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haologram · 4 months ago

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how to be a latin lover ♡ h.js (m)

♡ synopsis: the dreadful semester has started — meaning your summer vacation has come to end, and so has your summer fling…or has it? ♡ genre: summer fling au ; big dummy dumb idiots to lovers ; ta x student dynamics. ♡ pairing: spanish ta!joshua hong x chaebol!fem!reader | side pairings: lee chan x jung haerim (weki meki) ; wen junhui x lee saerom (fromis_9) ♡ word count: 26.8k ♡ rating: 18+. minors do not interact, i beg. ♡ warnings: honestly, a little toxic if you squint. lots of pining. hella slow burn. lots of suggestive commentary but no smut because i'm ass at it (sorry if you wanted some, maybe during the lore drops for this fic later this year i'll add some) and very, very toxic mother-daughter dynamics [official warnings: joshua and y/n are absolute idiots. i’m talking the dumbest mfs you’ve ever encountered, you’ll want to scream at them through the screen.] ♡ what to listen to: otro atardecer - bad bunny, the marías ; get to you - mac ayres ; sky full of stars - coldplay ; brave enough - leehi ; qué locura enamorarme de ti - eddie santiago ♡ a/n: it's finally here! thank you to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be a part of such a wonderful collab (and i promise hoshi will be out by next week!) thank you to @tomodachiii , @wqnwoos and @highvern for betaing this stupid behemoth and telling me to stop being a little bitch (no one said that). hopefully i will see everyone soon with the hoshi version! thanks for reading!

Monday, August 29th.

Summer is over.

A sad fate deemed inescapable, despite your sunkissed glow and endless array of swimsuits begging you to stay on the beach – you were forced to return to reality after spending six weeks in Mexico, away from the shackles of your mother's constant nagging and the fall semester of impending doom. Your trip was all-expenses paid, of course – thanks to daddy's big, fat wallet.

You had no worries – your skin was clear, your hair was bouncy, your belly was full of delicious food as you pranced the streets of Puerto Vallarta with your best friend, Lee Saerom. Your father didn't even know he'd footed the bill for her, too. He didn't check the credit card report after you booked your trip – just nodded absentmindedly and waved you off, his voice echoing the walls of the office. "Have fun, honey."

Well? The fun you had…is now here to bite you in your sweet, sunkissed ass.

Summer flings have been your thing since you were eighteen – so since your parents finally let you out of their grasp to 'explore.' Whatever the hell that meant, you didn't know, but you gladly took the plane tickets and went off to wherever they sent you. One year, it was Greece, and your summer sweetheart grew a bit too obsessed with you – leading you to change your number and start using burner phones for vacations.

You covered all your tracks. You didn't even give this guy your social media accounts, you gave him your burner number…you didn't even tell him your last name. Yet, you are so undeniably screwed.

"Hello, everyone!" He scans the room as he takes a sip of his coffee, glancing at the door. "I'm unsure if you all received the email, but Professor Lee won't be in today." He's still scouring faces, taking in new ones and recognizing old ones. He hasn't seen you, and you're sure if you just sink a bit further down, he won't. "I'm Joshua Hong, and I'm Professor Lee's teaching assistant this year. She asked me to review the syllabus with you, in lieu of her absence." He taps the stack of papers on the large oak desk, clicking his tongue. "I'm gonna put the digital copy up on the projector, and you guys can just pick one of these up on your way out. Sounds good?" The class seemingly nods simultaneously, and you find yourself sliding down your chair as he walks to dim the lights. "That being said, welcome to Beginning Spanish Conversation! I took this course last year, and Professor Lee is super nice so you won't have to worry about getting into any scuffles with her."

He's speaking to himself as he connects everything, the home screen of his laptop popping onto the projector screen. It's him and two other guys dressed as the Powerpuff Girls. He giggles to himself before using the laser pointer. "Not that you guys care, but these are my friends." He points to the one dressed as Buttercup, tied to a moving dolly with a sour expression on his face.

"This is Jeonghan. He's another TA on the East Campus, and the secretary of my fraternity! If you ever see me off campus, I'm likely with him and this guy." He points at the one dressed as Bubbles with a tiara on, a guy you recognize but can't seem to place. "This is Seungcheol. He's President of Beta Tau Omega, in case you're wondering where you've probably seen him before." You freeze as he opens his Safari, hoping that comment wasn't directed at you. It opens to the syllabus, and you feel your lips twitch at how cute Professor Lee made it. There is a floral border surrounding the page, and he points the laser on the screen again.

"Okay, so. Again, I'm Joshua Hong and your professor is Lee Hyori. This is Beginning Spanish Conversation, so we'll be learning a lot of vocabulary and common phrases. Enough to get you by in case you're ever stranded in the middle of Guadalajara with no phone and no money." He smiles, and someone raises their hand in the front.

"Are you speaking from personal experience?" It's Jung Haerim, a girl from your World Cultures class last semester.

His smile only grows slightly wider as he shakes his head. "No, and yes. I got lost in Denmark. Copenhagen, to be exact, and I had to flirt my way onto the train. Not as fun as it sounds, trust me." He returns to the screen, carefully going over what the students could expect in the coming weeks. He reiterated that Professor Lee loves pop quizzes, so stay prepared. It was only then when he finally stopped speaking, flashing yet another award-winning smile.

"Any questions?"

Your hand is crawling to cover your face as people start asking questions, further prolonging your suffering – when you feel eyes on you. Peeking through your fingers, you see him peering at you over the rim of his tumbler. They hold a mischievous glint, and he casually continues answering questions.

Where are you from?

"Los Angeles. I moved here when I was about…nineteen? Yeah." You already knew this.

How was your summer?

"Pretty good, I spent eight weeks in Puerto Vallarta. I got back maybe three days ago, and only then did I find out I got this position." You knew this, too. He probably remembers you.

What's your major?

"I'm a Music major, with a minor in Jazz Studies." He told you this on your third night together, over an IPA and a shared basket of chips and salsa. You burned your tongue on your food that night, you couldn't taste for days.

Oh? Why that?

"I've always been passionate about it. Funny, I took Spanish to broaden my horizons for it. I'll hopefully be a producer after graduation."

Your impatience begins to show as you bounce your leg irritably, and it's almost like he can hear your thoughts. "Alright, alright. I'll literally be here every time you guys are, so save your questions about me. Or, find me after! We can hang, I'm usually at the frat anyway." He shrugs, gesturing to the pile of papers on the desk.

"Syllabus, take one!" His smile is bright as you scramble down the steps, snatching the piece of paper off the desk and just about sprint to the door. You can feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment as you barrel down the hallway, deciding to skip your next class in hopes of drowning in your shame.

You spot Saerom a few feet down the hall, smiling and talking to one of your other friends, Chan. He was rushing that stupid fraternity this year, so if your math was right – you wouldn't be able to avoid Joshua at all this year.

"Saerom, I'm so fucked." You call, and she immediately spins around, a look of discernment on her face.

"Y/N, what are you on about this time? The last time you said that, it was because you left your Dior lip oil in Morocco." She deadpans, and you scoff. "Maybe it's about her classes." Chan reminds her coolly, and you sigh as you slump your forehead against his chest, earning a pat on the back from him.

"For once, the twink is right." Groaning, you bury your face further into Chan's chest. "I've got to transfer out of Spanish, or the University. I cannot be on this campus."

Your words are muffled against Chan's shirt, earning a sigh from Saerom as she places her hands on your shoulders. "Get a grip, Y/N! It's the first day of your last year, it's not the end of the world. You will not see any of these people next semester, trust me."

She's not understanding the severity of your issue, and only when you hear someone stop behind you, do you attempt to explain. "Saerom, you're not listening–"

"Saerom, is that you?"

She looks up, her eyes lighting up as she gently gestures for you to hang on, pushing past to envelop whoever it was in a hug. You look over your shoulder, eyes wide as you see him looking down at your best friend.

"Shua! Oh my God, it's been so long! How's your mom?!" Shua. Oh, you feel sick.

Your breath hitches in your throat, before Chan's amused face comes into your line of vision as he drapes his arm over your shoulder – effectively hiding you from Joshua. "We'll let you guys catch up. See you later, Saerom?"

He tugs you away without getting an answer from her, and you almost make it out of the hall when you hear your name slip from Saerom's lips. "Oh, Y/N is my best friend! I'll have to introduce you sometime, you'd love her."

You barely catch Joshua's response as Chan makes a left out of the hall.

"I'm sure I will."

Friday, September 2nd.

"So…anything you want to tell me?"

Saerom is standing next to you, placing forks next to slices of cake. The two of you had missed three birthdays on your trip, and you'd invited said birthday buddies over for a celebratory movie night to make up for it. You'd bought a cake on your way home from your first Organic Chemistry lab, and Saerom had set up the apartment with the small gifts you'd brought back from Puerto Vallarta.

To your luck, Saerom had pulled you aside while you were cutting the cake to talk to you.

"Uh, no? I skipped Spanish today? I used the last of my face wash?"

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she turns to face you. "You were never gonna tell me that you slept with someone this summer?"

"I don't know what you're talking about? Obviously, you knew I'd find someone."

You try to hold in the heat of embarrassment, but Saerom's like a dog with a bone. "Right, of course. How would I, your best friend, not know that you, my best friend, slept with a guy over the summer?" Soonyoung, Junhui and Nagyung were playing Mario Kart on your television, and couldn't hear the conversation being had in the kitchen. You felt your cheeks warm as you stared into the cake, a bit of chocolate frosting smeared on your knuckles. "Sae, it was just some random guy I met when you slept in. Why does this matter?" "It matters…" She huffs, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and you give her a look of get on with it. "It matters because he's my cousin, Y/N."

Your grip on the spatula tightens. You can feel your stomach drop, eyes wide as you look back at her. "He's your what?"

"I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're thinking. I'd never be mad at you for that…even if it is weird for me." She says quietly, and sighs as you feel panic set into your skin. "I just…Why didn't you tell me? I transferred to this university for you, I tell you about all my hookups, and I had to find out through him that you guys were sleeping together for the last three weeks of our vacation?"

"How could I have possibly known the two of you were related? Better yet, why does it matter? It was just a stupid fling, Sae. I'm not trying to marry into your family, God." You mumble, placing the spatula in the sink and covering the rest of the cake with the plastic lid. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't think it would come back to bite me in the ass." "It doesn't. I thought you already considered me family, Y/N. It seems I've been under the wrong impression for a while." Her eyes are cold as she moves the cake slices onto a tray, and you feel taken aback. "What the hell does that mean?" "What the hell did you mean? As if marrying into my family would be so fucking bad? We're a great family. We're loving, open, and honest. Nothing like you, it seems!"

You gape at her, before you feel a bit of anger claw at your throat. "Saerom, I didn't think I'd ever see him again! Of course I'm going to hope he doesn't expect anything more from me, because I can't handle that. I want a career, I want to own my parents' businesses after graduation. I can't let a guy tie me down, no matter who he is to my friends. You have to get that." Her eyes are hurt, contrary to the furious tug on her brows. She knows what you want out of life, she always had – at least, what you would let her believe. Your parents had expectations, and you, as their only daughter, had to fulfill everything. Taking over your father's companies, inheriting your mother's properties, continuing the bloodline. It was all on you.

God forbid a girl have a little fun on vacation.

"It's always about you and your career, isn't it?" She mutters, grabbing the tray and walking towards the living room. She stops in front of the doorway, looking over her shoulder. "I thought I could trust you, Y/N. It seems that being a Risk Analyst may not be my perfect fit, after all."

You kind of hate that this is happening.

No, scratch that. You hate that this is happening. You don't even really understand what just happened, or how Saerom could have possibly interpreted what you said as something bad. Despite these horrible circumstances, you knew that Joshua couldn't possibly be a bad guy. Granted, you'd skipped your Spanish class twice now, doing everything in your power to convince Chan to enroll into it so you wouldn't have to face Joshua alone. You even said you'd pay his stupid fraternity dues if he got in, no matter how bad you hated Beta Tau Omega.

Joshua was sweet on vacation, but everyone has their vacation persona, and their normal life characteristics. At home, you were serious, studious, and even slightly uptight.

On vacation, you were…flirtatious, unhinged, a bit wild. You took shots from strangers and stayed out in clubs and bars until the wee hours of the morning. You'd play games of chicken with cute guys, letting them kiss you in bathrooms and put their hands up your skirt.

Joshua did none of that, he didn't indulge your behavior. At least, not right off the bat.

He'd caught your eye at a restaurant, speaking perfect Spanish to the waitress. He looked…refreshing. Sweet, different from your past romances. He looked like someone you'd actually date, but you were on vacation and you weren't looking for a long-term, potentially long-distance boyfriend. A quick fuck, a cum-and-go, if you will.

You'd bought him a mimosa, ignoring his line of vision as you befriended a few girls you'd met at the pool of your hotel. Saerom decided to sleep in that morning, and almost every other time you managed to catch Joshua alone – she wasn't in your presence. Maybe that was the universe protecting the both of them, while scorning you.

He'd sent a glass of white wine to your table, also avoiding your gaze and continuing his breakfast conversation with his friends. Jeonghan and Seungcheol, now that you can put a name to the faces. You didn't bother then, it didn't matter.

Not until now, of course.

You remember walking past his table on your way to close out your check, slipping your name and burner number on a napkin. You remember his friends teasing him, even hearing one of them give a low whistle. You remember said burner phone buzzing in your pocket less than an hour later, and meeting up with him that night at a salsa club down the beach.

You also remember cuddling on a hammock with him, pointing out stars you'd memorized as a kid because you wanted to be an astronaut. You remember him kissing your fingertips as you talked about your life back home, leaving out details of where you lived, where you went to school and who your parents were. You remember his eyes scanning your face, lingering on your lips as you sighed, voicing your unhappiness.

You had truly opened up to a stranger faster than you had anyone else. Even Saerom didn't know you felt this way about your life. How could she? She was under the impression that you loved it, you loved feeling important, you loved the money your lifestyle was funded by. That you didn't care about your parents' emotional absence, and the overwhelming amount of nannies being rotated in and out of your childhood in place of them.

Some things are better left unsaid, you remind yourself. You have to remind yourself that this façade needs to be upheld. You have to make your parents proud. You have to.

Right?

You're still standing in the kitchen when Nagyung appears in the doorway, her voice soft as she calls out to you. "Y/N?" You jump, a hand to your chest as you look up. She apologizes, "Sorry! It's just…the movie is starting. Are you coming?" "Yeah, sorry. I'll be right there." You gesture at the mess of cake crumbs and frosting, and she gives you a quick smile before scurrying back to the living room. You turn to wash the spatula, your mind just reminiscing as you grab the soapy sponge.

"So you're going to take over your father's business?""Yeah, I'm an only child, so I don't have much of a choice. If I don't take it, it just goes to the highest bidder. In my mind, it wouldn't be the end of the world if that happened, I'd get to pursue my own path."

"If you think that, why are you taking it over? Why not tell your parents that you have dreams you want to pursue? I know it's easier said than done, but office jobs are not good for the soul in my opinion." He spoke confidently, his fingers twirling your hair.

"I'd be ungrateful, I'd be throwing away hundreds of properties and investors. I'd be throwing away this lavish life I live, funded by my father's money. I'd be throwing away a secure future…and I'd be letting them down."

You didn't want to be an astronaut anymore. You'd long let that dream go, along with an eight-year-old you that had posters of Yi Soyeon and constellations plastered all over your room. You remember your mother standing in the doorway of your bedroom when you got your first poster of a supernova, a glass of Merlot in her hand as she sighed. "You'll never be like them, you know? Going into space…eating peanut butter on crackers and floating. It's not possible." She had been right, anyway. You had put all of those posters up in your attic, along with your rocket models when you moved for college. The only thing you kept and brought with you to University was the orrery your last nanny gifted you for your fifteenth birthday. It sat pretty on your desk in your room, mocking your every move.

You were getting a business degree. You were majoring in Marketing. You're taking Spanish for the same reason Joshua did, to broaden your horizons, and make business boom. To feed the greed that festered in your parents, and give them what they want.

But…unbeknownst to them, you were also majoring in Physics. You wanted to give yourself the sliver of hope that they wouldn't actually want you to take over the firms, that you'd get to continue your education and get your doctorate. That you'd be a plasma physicist and watch everything happen in real time for space research, without having to leave Earth's surface.

Delusions, all of it.

"Welcome. You missed the first fifteen minutes." Soonyoung scoots over, offering you the lit joint between his fingers as you sigh. Taking it, you plop down on the couch cushion, your leg draped over the armrest. "Takes time to have a clean house, Hoshi." Saerom glances at you from her spot on the floor, her eyes unreadable as she blinks. She frowns slightly, returning her attention to the television. You can tell she feels uneasy about the entire situation. She's probably asking herself how she didn't catch on, or why she didn't ask.

And the truth is, you're kind of glad she didn't. Had she done so, you probably wouldn't have slept with him. You probably would've found out they were family and completely ghosted him, or at least told him that you were her friend. You would've let him down much more easily, instead of leaving Puerto Vallarta without saying goodbye and throwing your burner phone in the garbage at the airport.

Everything would have been different, you would have acted differently.

Nonetheless, you can't dwell on the past. You can't keep skipping Spanish, and you can't let your grades slip over some stupid summer hookup. What you can do is pretend it didn't happen. Pretend you've never seen him in the nude, pretend you don't know what his lips feel like. Pretend like he didn't affect you deeper than he did, because it wasn't just sex.

And you hate that it wasn't.

Monday, September 5th.

"You love me, Lee Chan!" You'd done it. You'd convinced him to join your class so you wouldn't be subjected to Joshua's nonexistent wrath alone. Seeing Chan leaning on the wall next to the door was a sight for sore eyes – even if he was trying to subtly flirt with Haerim.

"Y/N, you're going to scare the hoes!" He speaks through gritted teeth, allowing you to envelope him in a tight hug. "Ugh, you've saved me from a world of misery." "You're so needy." He mutters into your hair, making you pull away with a smug look on your face. "Well? Why is everyone out here?" "Professor Lee isn't here today. We're waiting for Joshua to get the door open." Haerim speaks as she locks her phone, shoving it into her pocket. She eyes you up and down, noticing the slight frown on your lips. "Why did you skip twice already? The semester just started." Grimacing, you make up a lie. "Prior commitments. Couldn't miss 'em." "Right…" She gives you a look of discernment before fishing her phone back out of her pocket. "I'm gonna skip, actually. You still have my number, right? Can you forward what you guys do today?" Upon seeing your nod, she gives you a lazy smile and worms her way through the crowd of students forming around the door. Everyone is whining and complaining, but you're now searching the hall to see if you can also make a run for it…

"Hey! So sorry, guys. Professor Lee just called me." A slightly disheveled Joshua appears behind a group of girls, holding up a set of keys. You look away, meeting eyes with Chan – who is squinting at Joshua as if he knew him. "Is that…Isn't he the Vice President of Beta Tau Omega?"nk

"Leave it up to one of my best friends to befriend the enemy." You scowl, before looping your arm in his to tug him into the classroom. The front few rows are already filling out, with Joshua regaining his composure at Professor Lee's desk. You and Chan make a beeline for the back of the classroom, taking the last two seats in the third row.

"I'm rushing this year, I need to know my higher ups." Chan whispers back, and the two of you whip your heads towards the front of the room at the sound of Joshua clearing his throat. "Sorry again, everyone. Unfortunately, a late start will be followed by a quiz." He winces as a collective groan follows his announcement, and you feel your stomach flip. You don't know enough Spanish to pass this class by the seat of your pants. You barely retained how to introduce yourself from high school. "Don't worry, since this is the first quiz of the semester, I'll go easy on you. Just some general conjugation, and it's to see where you fall on the scale." Joshua speaks confidently as he walks around the room, handing stacks of the quiz to the first person in the row. You feel your eyes glued to the floor as he holds the stack out for you to take, and you hate how your hand shakes as you do so.

What you hate even more?

"Nice to see you in class, Miss Y/N." He whispers, before crossing his arms behind his back and walking down the steps. Chan snickers next to you, earning a smack. "Not funny!" You grit, whacking him again with the stack of quizzes.

"Once you are done with your quiz, I will grade it. You may then leave for the day, because I really do not have the energy to think of anything else to be done." He's rubbing his temples, and you hear a few people sigh in relief.

"Easy money." Chan whispers to himself, before clicking his pen and beginning the quiz. You glance down at it, your lip tucked behind your teeth. The quiz seems standard – a few conjugations, a few multiple choice. One short answer at the bottom, asking you to describe what you did over the summer in Spanish.

"Fuck." You mumble.

You can't lie to yourself, you probably fucked yourself over by skipping those last two classes. They probably reviewed, took notes. Maybe even engaged in actual conversation with each other, with Professor Lee…with Joshua.

Nonetheless, you feel your skin crawl when you notice that you've spent so much time agonizing over this, that you're one of the last students left. Chan finished at some point and you didn't notice, because now he's waiting by the door for you. You feel your throat tighten, forcing you to zero in and just scribble an answer at the bottom of your quiz.

Grabbing your backpack, you fling it over your shoulder before trekking the steps, noticing Joshua giving you a warm smile.

"Miss Y/N." He greets, taking your paper. You give him a tight nod, before spinning on your heel to leave. You're barely two steps in the right direction when you hear him again. "Ah, ah, ah! We need to speak, Miss Y/N. Turn around." You're semi-grateful that the classroom is nearly empty, because you know you look embarrassed as you turn back around. "Yes, sir?" His smile drops as you stand in front of him, and he taps his pen on your quiz. "You missed two classes consecutively. Per the syllabus, you can only miss six classes per semester, and we don't accept late work. You can't excel in this course if you're not physically here, you know." He's not being a douche. You know he's not, but you can't help and slightly bristle.

"I had other matters to attend to, sir. I'll be on time for the remainder of the semester."

This doesn't seem to satisfy him, and his brows furrow slightly before he shakes his head, sighing. He turns your quiz over, the capital C minus grade in red ink.

"I know you don't want to be here, it's clear in your attitude. However, if you intend to pass this class, you have to show up. My tutoring hours are on the syllabus, revisit them and send me an email when you get a chance so we can get you back on track."

Your mouth opens slightly, and Joshua gives you a rather stern look. "Don't. I'm trying to help you." "Yes, sir." You mutter. He tilts his head towards the door. "You can leave." Huffing, you storm out of the room and nearly shove Chan out of the way when you reach the door. "Woah, hey! Don't kill me, Y/N!" He grabs your elbow, and you groan loudly. "Dude, what's your deal?" Chan asks, taking hold of both your shoulders as the two of you round the corner out of the hallway.

"My deal, Chan, is that I fucking slept with the TA over the summer! That's my deal, dude!" You throw your arms up in exasperation, and a lightbulb seems to go off in Chan's head as his mouth forms an O-shape. You lean against the brick wall of the building, slowly sliding down and covering your face with your hands.

"You..fucked Joshua Hong." He speaks, and you let out another groan, similar to that of a goat. "Yes, Chan. I fucked Joshua Hong in Puerto Vallarta in a random villa on the beach." "Spare me the details, will you?" He grimaces, running a hand through his hair. He squats next to you, making you look up at him with his hand. He gives your look of defeat a laugh, a concerned smile remaining on his lips as he touches his head to yours. "Don't worry, Y/N. He won't be anything but professional, I promise you."

"How do you know?" You whine, Chan's smile of concern turning into one of reassurance. "He clearly takes his job seriously, and he could've told the entire frat by now. Joshua Hong banged the biggest chaebol on campus, Kang Y/N. Crazy." You can tell he's trying to make you feel better, but you already knew Joshua wasn't the type to kiss and tell. Tell anyone other than Saerom, of course – but the two of you didn't speak much over the weekend so you felt a bit down in the dumps anyway. You didn't have dinner together or even go on a morning coffee run like you usually did – choosing to rot in your own rooms until hunger forced you out.

"He's Saerom's cousin, Channie." You pout, allowing him to tug you up off the wall and fling his arm over your shoulders. He sighs, resting his head against yours before he speaks. "Well, it can't get any worse than this, can it?"

�� ☆ –

You scribble a reminder on a sticky note to kill Lee Chan for his earlier words – it has gotten worse.

You had forced yourself to review the syllabus upon returning home, especially after your Organic Chemistry professor informed everyone twenty minutes before class started that it was canceled. You then forced yourself to type out a concise and polite email to Joshua Hong, and you forced yourself to press send.

Ten minutes later, you forced yourself to read his reply.

And now, fifteen minutes after reading it, you were parked in the lot, your head resting against your steering wheel as you repeated some positive affirmations. "I can do this, I can do this. He's gonna be professional, I'm going to fix my hours, and I'll be on my way home."

Hopping out, you make sure to press your keyfob twice to hear it lock. Breathing in deeply, you made your way towards the hallway, seeing a few stragglers still on campus. It was nearly six in the evening, so they were probably also in office hours. Seeing the small office come into view, you stare at the names on the bronze plaques. Wow, you think. How important.

Kim Namjoon…WED. 3PM-7PM.

Jennie Kim…THURS. 4PM-8PM

Joshua Hong…MON/TUES/FRI. 2PM-6PM

Jeon Soyeon…MON-FRI. 10AM-1PM, OCHEM II ONLY.

Sighing, you grabbed the doorknob and twisted, pushing it open to reveal Joshua speaking on the phone. His eyes dart to you, a hand to his chest before gesturing to the table in the corner. You roll your eyes, before shutting the door and flipping the sign that reads In Session.

"Yes ma'am…mhm…I will get that done." Joshua is pinching the bridge of his nose, making you snort to yourself as you sink into the surprisingly comfortable chair in the corner of the room. You set your backpack on the floor, pulling your laptop out and a notepad. Clicking a pen, you fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to finish.

"Yes, I will see you on Monday, Professor. Alright, take care." He hangs up, taking a moment to process. He blinks twice, before shaking it off and opening one of the drawers. "Good to see you, Miss Y/N. This is the review that you missed on Wednesday, and you missed an oral introduction on Friday." Standing, he holds up a packet. "This is just verb conjugation. I was originally going to use this for extra credit, but seeing as you got the highest grade out of anyone in the morning session, I think it's safe to say you probably won't need it." You're silent as he hands it to you.

"You will have to make up for lost time here, so you can stay for…an hour today, and then you can make up the other two on Friday." He's checking the calendar by the door, taking a pen from his pocket to write it in. "Sounds good?" You don't answer, just nodding your head. He raises his brow at you, "Cat got your tongue?" Grimacing, you glance up at him. "Sounds fine, sir." He smiles a bit, before clicking his tongue. "Actually, just take it. You can go, Miss Y/N."

He walks to the desk, shutting his laptop. Confused, you look at him. "You want me to go?" "I don't want you to be anywhere you don't want to be, even if it's for your own benefit. You can leave." He nods, sliding his laptop into his bag, zipping it up and hiking it over his shoulder. "I have a prior commitment I can't miss, so consider this a favor." Snorting, you just shake your head as you put your things away. "I don't need any favors from you." You mutter to yourself, and Joshua smiles brightly as he holds the door open for you. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Miss Y/N. Have a good night." "You too." You grumble, pushing past him to see Jeonghan and Seungcheol leaning against the wall. Seungcheol is holding an extra cup in his hand, and Joshua just lets out a sigh before greeting them warmly. Unfortunately, they're walking in the same direction as you, so you reach into your hoodie pocket for your headphones – but not before you hear a low whistle. "She looks familiar."

You just shove your other hand in your pocket, wondering if they'll keep talking. Does the other one remember you? Do they know you slept with Joshua? Did he tell them? "It's funny to think you'd remember anyone, when you're one of the biggest whores on campus." One of them speaks, and you can hear Joshua laugh lightly. "She's my student, so shut up. Anyway, how'd things go with the new OChem professor? I heard he's a mess, canceling classes back to back." You decide to tune them out as you reach the end of the hallway, not wanting to entertain them as the parking lot comes into view. You can see from where you're standing that there is a ticket stuck under your windshield wiper, and you groan. "Son of a bitch."

Jogging over, you take it off and see that it's not actually a ticket, but a note from someone saying they hit your car. Gasping, you round your car and see a huge dent in your bumper, black paint scraped off and your tail light broken. "Motherfucker!"

You can hear the trio of men getting closer, hearing the beep of the car next to yours as it unlocks. Scowling to yourself, you take your phone out to call your father. He should know what to do..right? His assistant picks up on the second ring. "Kang Enterprises, Gyuri speaking."

Sighing, you speak to her for a moment. She tells you he's in a meeting, and can't come to the phone at the moment. It's nearly seven at this point, what could he possibly have a meeting about? She says she doesn't know, but that your mother is also at the office and she's available. You reluctantly agree to speak to her, leaning your forehead against your rear windshield.

"Y/N? Why are you calling?" She sounds disinterested in whatever matters you may have, and you feel Jeonghan skirt past you as he rounds to the driver's side. "Sorry," He mumbles, and you scoff before moving out of the way. He grimaces before hopping in, and you can hear Joshua speaking to Seungcheol as he also rounds to the driver's side.

"Hello, Mother. Someone hit the beamer–" You barely get the words out before she starts responding. Yelling, actually – and so loud you have to pull the phone away from your ear. Joshua is unfortunately hopping into the passenger seat, and he can see the look of defeat on your face. He gives you a sympathetic smile, and you frown before turning away.

You're still standing there as they pull out, but you've put her on speaker now. She's yelling about how irresponsible you are (and let's not forget you weren't the one who hit a car here) and that she can't believe you expect them to send you another. "I don't want another, I just want Daddy's advice on where to take it to get it fixed." "I don't care, Y/N. We'll get another one down there tomorrow. Just…be more responsible, will you?!"

She hangs up, and you tongue your cheek so as to not cry in frustration. You don't want to drive the car home in this condition, you could get pulled over and then it's worse. Pulling up your messages, you scour who you could call. Chan is at a stupid pledge thing, you're not speaking to Saerom. Sighing, you quickly shoot Soonyoung a text, before calling the local towing company. They towed Chan's car last year when the two of you accidentally swerved into a fire hydrant trying to teach Nagyung how to drive.

Msg From: Soonyoung 🐯

[7:01PM] tf you mean someone hit ur car

[7:01PM] your PARKED car??? i'm literally in the shower, y/n

[7:03PM] ok uhh i think jun is on his way, if you wanna wait for him? if not i can finish up here in like 10 mins

Great.

Wednesday, September 7th.

"Shua." You hear Haerim speak from the front of the room. Your mother had angrily called you last night and said Gyuri would be dropping off your replacement vehicle today, so you were anything but focused until you heard the nickname slip from her lips.

"Haerim." He speaks, not taking his attention away from the corkboard he's putting up on the wall. It has Polaroids of all the students in your class and a few others you don't recognize. They probably took those on the days you weren't here.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you single? My friend drops me off on her way to French with Professor Bae and she thinks you're cute." Haerim is very casual with her conversation, making Joshua laugh lightly as he turns, holding a few thumbtacks between his fingers. "I am single, but I am unfortunately not on the market. Sorry to your friend, Haerim." She shakes her head, about to speak when you hear another person pipe up – Kim Myungjun, a guy you hooked up with at a sorority stoplight party your sophomore year. "How come? Did you get your heart broken or something?" Joshua smiles gently, sticking another Polaroid onto the board. He sighs, before turning back to face the room. "Something like that. I met a girl over the summer. Didn't end very well."

You can't believe your ears, and you can feel your eyes narrow as Chan shifts uncomfortably in his seat. You're willing to ignore it, until you hear Myungjun speak up. "Man, don't let that deter you from finding your soulmate! Love is everywhere, if we let one person dictate our confidence, we give their opinion value. I read that somewhere." Joshua nods, his smile never wavering, when he meets your eyes. His head tilts to the side, but he speaks while looking at you anyway. "I dunno, man. Something about that girl…she was different." Chan coughs awkwardly next to you, and you welcome the distraction as you tear your angry eyes away from Joshua's mischievous ones. You pat Chan's back, offering him a sip of your water bottle when Joshua returns to his conversation with Haerim (and apparently, Myungjun.) "Anyway…yeah. I'm alright for now." You spend the rest of the class with your face hidden behind your hair, studying the stupid Quizlet link Joshua had sent out last night. Professor Lee would finally be in this Friday, and she was expecting all A's across the board that day. You watch the clock on your phone, willing time to go faster with your mind.

The moment the clock strikes noon, you're out of your seat – only to hear Joshua call after you.

"Chan, Y/N, if the two of you could hang back for just a second." He says, as the students shuffle out. You glance at Chan, who has an unsettled look on his face. The two of you take the steps down quietly, waiting for everyone to file out when Joshua holds up the pink Instax camera. "You guys weren't here for class photos, so I just wanted to get those out of the way. Professor Lee uses them to remember names." Chan engages quickly, and you feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

Msg From: Jang Gyuri (K. Ent.)

[12:05PM] Miss Y/N, I am outside with your new vehicle. It seems I am on the West Campus.

Shit.

The panicked look on your face doesn't go unnoticed by Chan, even as he's blinking away the effects of the camera flash. "Are you okay?" "Gyuri is here, and she has my keys." You respond, clicking away on your phone when Chan covers the screen, wiggling his eyebrows at you. "I'll get them for you! Please, please, please—" "You're only asking because you think she's pretty." You roll your eyes, and Chan flashes you a mischievous smile. "Correction, I think she's beautiful. C'mon, I literally do everything for you!" "Fine, fine. Only because you make me feel guilty." Chan beams at you as he hitches his bag over his shoulder, the both of you completely forgetting this meant you'd be alone with Joshua. He calls over his shoulder that he'll wait for you in your new car, making you snort.

"You can stand right here." Joshua points at the small piece of tape on the floor. You grimace, sliding your bag onto Professor Lee's desk and fixing your shirt. "Your necklace is twisted," He speaks again, and you feel around for it.

"Here…can I?" He sets the camera down, and you give him a rather sour look before agreeing. "Fine." "No need to act like this, Y/N." His breath is minty, and it's softly hitting your skin as he works the clasp to the back of your neck. Your grandmother gave you this necklace. He knows, you told him about it tipsy off a mango margarita.

"She got me this on my tenth birthday. I have never taken it off.""She believed in you.""What a shame, right?"

His fingers linger on the glittering pendant, before centering it on your blouse. "Ready?" "What did you mean by different?" You blurt, and his eyes widen as he reaches for the camera. "What?" "You said I…nevermind. Just take the picture, I have somewhere to be." You force a smile, and Joshua gives you a questioning look. He positions the camera, but sighs. "Too forced. Just relax, Y/N."

Huffing, you soften your face, letting your cheeks reach your eyes as you smile gently. "Much better." He whispers, taking the photo quickly. You blink a few times, before reaching for your bag. "And Y/N?" "What!?" You gripe, and he smiles. "Not everything is about you, pretty." Rolling your eyes at the slight lurch in your stomach. Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you stop as he huffs. "Wait, it came out wrong. Can you stand here again?"

He flicks the faulty picture onto the desk, and you quickly position yourself in front of him again. You clear your throat, smiling again as you move your hair to your face – when you see him smiling tenderly behind the camera. "Why are you looking at me like that?" "Hm?" He snaps the photo, taking it as it prints and covering it with his hand from the light. "Nothing, you look a lot nicer when you smile." You don't reply, waiting silently to see if the photo develops nicely. He doesn't speak either, before flipping the photo. You're smiling back at him, and he holds it up. "Satisfied?"

"Yeah, whatever." You shrug, and he nods. He hands you your bag, and gives you a warm look. "Have a good day, Y/N." You hesitate, but take your bag. "You too."

– ☆ –

"Hey, Shua."

He looks up to see Saerom standing in the doorway of his bedroom, her arms crossed as she drags the tip of her shoe against the hardwood.

"Hey! What are you doing here? And if you say you're here to see any of these perverts, I'm going to escort you out myself." She just laughs, shaking her head as she enters his bedroom. It's a bit larger than the others, and she flops onto his bed. "Why did you tell me you slept with Y/N?" Joshua chokes on his spit, coughing harshly in his desk chair. Saerom looks slightly amused as he regains his composure. "Just right out with it, huh?" "Well, she's my best friend. I don't know how I didn't know you were in Mexico, too. I literally watch your Instagram stories." Saerom pouts, and Joshua laughs. "Maybe because I like to live in the moment? I don't document every part of my life, Rom." "I mean, yeah, but still. And how did you guys even have time to meet? I was with her all the time." Saerom wails, making Joshua just shake his head. "She did mention she was on vacation with her best friend. She never mentioned your name, and we also hung out mostly at night. I'm assuming if you guys didn't share a room, you wouldn't have been able to notice, anyway." "We never share a room when we go on vacation together. We like our privacy." She rolls her eyes, and Joshua smiles knowingly. "I know, I was there with Cheol and Han, and I practically begged the front desk to get me one of the beach villas. I did not want to share a room with them, or whatever girl they managed to tag team."

"As your cousin, this is a weird conversation to have. As Y/N's friend, I feel awkward. We fought a bit, and I can't really talk to her knowing that you guys…did it."

"You're so…Okay." He snorts at her theatrics, before opening his laptop. He sees the photo he took of you in the corner of it, your smiling face peeking out at him. He shuts it quickly, having forgotten he took it with him. The photo developed after you left, so it's not like he lied.

"Anyway, she's such a cold person normally. It's hard to get in there." Saerom sighs, and he feels a pang in his chest. You'd opened up very quickly with him, but Saerom didn't know that – nor did she need to. "I guess it works, though, she can be personable when she wants to. Can't believe she wants to own that big ass company her father has. I'd cry myself to sleep if I had that much pressure on my shoulders." You're living such a double life and your best friend doesn't even know it. How can you hide those things from her? Do you fear being judged, or being seen as less than? Someone who can't handle the pressure of being the golden child, someone who can't hold a candle to her parents? Someone who disappoints.

"Yeah, me too."

Saerom keeps talking about you, but he can barely hear her. His phone is open in his lap, and he's staring at the message thread with your burner number.

Msg To: Y/N (PV)

[06/29] hey, this is joshua. [06/29] you left your number at my table.

Msg From: Y/N (PV)

[06/29] hi handsome ;) [06/29] are you free tonight?

He had been free.

He remembers the stupid white dress you wore when you met him at the salsa club. He remembers the confidence radiating off you when you asked the bartender for your drink. You made it evident you didn't need him, that you weren't looking for anything serious – but you slowly dropped the act. You let him in just a bit, you danced with him and you let him walk you down the beach to your hotel room.

You were the one who asked to sit on one of the hammocks on the beach. You were the one who asked him about himself, wondering what his own life was like. You encouraged him to dig deep and tell you his darkest secrets, assuring him you'd share your own as well.

Your life was much more intense than his. He was studying music, he was living it, breathing it, enjoying it. He wanted that, more than anything, and nothing was going to get in his way. But you…you wanted so much more than what you were told you could have.

You wanted to be more than your parents. You wanted to explore, you wanted to live. He remembers how sweet you were when he told you his dreams. how gentle you were when you voiced your opinion on them. He appreciated your honesty and your kindness, and he enjoyed your presence. You…were more than just the intimacy. More than just the makeout sessions you initiated, including that night in the hammock. More than the way you made him chase you just enough. About as much as one can for a vacation fling, anyway.

"...And she makes the best bolognese, Shua. You'd love it." Saerom sighs, making him nod quickly. "I'm sure." "Anyway, I gotta go. I was supposed to pick up dinner, so I can extend the olive branch." She chuckles, getting off the bed. "I'll see you around, Shua." "Bye, Rom. Be safe, let me know when you get home." "Will do." Saerom exits his room, closing the door behind her. He opens his laptop, fishing the photo of you out of the corner and shoving it into his wallet. He should feel weird about keeping it, but that means a perfectly good photo is going to waste! It'll be safe in his wallet.

Unlocking his laptop, he sighs as he sees his email pinging him.

From: [email protected]

Subject: Office Hours

Sent: 10:32PM

Hello. I hope this email finds you well.

I am not able to attend Friday's office hours. I will also not be able to attend office hours next week, as I have prior commitments I must tend to. I know it is rather unorthodox, but would you be available tomorrow? I do not have classes after 1PM and I frankly don't need a language class to tarnish my perfect record.

Let me know if this works for you. Thanks.

Best,

Kang Y/N

010-1230-1995

Thursday, September 8th.

From: [email protected]

RE:Subject: Office Hours

Sent: 11:21PM

Thank you for reaching out. I understand prior commitments can make attending office hours difficult.

I am not able to promise availability for Thursday. Jennie Kim has the office, she is the TA for Professor Lee Chaerin in French II. This being said, I can accommodate in two ways.

I can give you an assignment to be turned in on Friday. You will have to come by the classroom to retrieve it. Or, you can get a study room in the library and I can offer two hours of my time for your use. Please email me back before 10AM if the latter is your choice.

Best,

Joshua Hong

010-9999-8212

Bad idea, Y/N.

Very, very bad idea.

You should have gone to pick up the stupid assignment. You should have picked up the stupid, fat packet he was going to torture you with to make you regret being a douche to him despite basically making the guy fall in love with you over the summer.

Instead, you suffer here. You suffer inside these four walls, with a freshly showered Joshua Hong standing in the doorway, his friends bidding him goodbye. Jeonghan and Seungcheol peer in, their eyes twinkling with something devious – making Joshua roll his eyes as he shut the door with his foot.

"Sorry about that, they're nosey." He's holding a basketball under his arm, backpack hiked over his shoulder as he walks around the room to settle at the table.You haven't spoken yet, just eyeing him down. "Your hair is wet." "Damp, not wet." He corrects you, opening his bag for his sweatshirt. "It's freezing in here, Jesus Christ." "Maybe wear a proper shirt next time." You roll your eyes, opening your laptop to see the digitals you had developed from your vacation. Saerom took a lot of them – you drinking out of a fresh coconut, you wearing a pretty pink dress to the beach, you in a new swimsuit you bought specifically for the trip. There were photos of the two of you together – one a little girl took of you having a picnic on the beach, another of the two of you getting matching tattoos on your ankles.

And one you took of Joshua.

You were sitting on him, right after the two of you woke up in your hotel room. The photo was taken from an odd over-head angle, but his smile was wide and so natural. You were making him laugh, you remember.

"Come on, just one picture!"

"You literally just pinched my leg to wake me up, give me a second!""God forbid a girl wants to wake you up. Come on, I leave in two days!"

You'd lied, you left that night. You dumped your burner in the airport trashcan, not bothering to read the few texts he'd sent you only moments earlier to your arrival there. They were gone forever – and you hadn't felt guilty then, not really. You knew you'd miss him a bit, you knew yourself that much.

You wouldn't have missed him at all if you knew that you'd see him again…for sixteen consecutive weeks. And possibly for the rest of your time on this campus. And possibly, the rest of your life, since you were best friends with Saerom.

The pictures haunt you a bit, you notice.

You're staring at them in silence, feeling a bit of anxiety crawl up your throat when you hear Joshua clear his own. "I brought a few assignments, in case you don't want to do…this." He gestures to the room, and you just shake your head.

"Paying for the class, I might as well try and get along with you." You mutter, clicking your tongue when the photo of Joshua comes back into circulation. "I'm going to the vending machine, do you want anything?" You abruptly get up, grabbing your wallet out of your bag and stalking to the door. He looks up at you, a soft look in his eyes as he shakes his head. "I'm okay." Nodding, you retreat to the vending machine down the hall. You're staring at the ground as you walk, fully expecting to have an uneventful trip not even ten feet away.

However, it seems that even that can't go right for you.

"Hey. You're Y/N, right?" Your head snaps up, seeing Seungcheol and Jeonghan at the vending machine. Your eye twitches a bit, and you clear your throat before nodding. "And you are?" Jeonghan gives you a knowing look, but entertains you. "I'm Jeonghan. This is Seungcheol." With pursed lips, you nod. "Uh, nice to meet you. You guys are in…Beta Tau, right? My friend is rushing it." You stand awkwardly, and Jeonghan gives you a slight smirk. "Yeah? Good luck to your friend, Y/N.' "Yah, don't be like that. Did you want the vending machine? We're still deciding." Seungcheol tugs Jeonghan back a bit, and you quickly feed in your change, pressing the buttons to get what you want. In your frenzy, you get two bottles of jasmine tea.

"Say, Y/N. How was your summer?" Jeonghan asks gently, and you feel your shoulders tense before you glance over with a scowl. "Is it really on your mind that much? I fucked your friend, so what?" "Wow, no need to get so feisty! Kitty has claws." He smiles, elbowing Seungcheol, who just pinches the bridge of his nose. "Whatever, man. God forbid a girl has fun on her summer vacation." You turn on your heel, walking back down the corridor and hearing Seungcheol scold Jeonghan behind you. You nearly rip the handle off the door of the study room, seeing Joshua standing in front of the whiteboard with a textbook draped open in his hand. He looks back to see your furrowed brows, and the two teas in your hand.

"Are you alright?" "Did you have to tell all your friends that we slept together? Because I didn't tell anyone. I didn't even tell my best friend, you told her. I'd appreciate if you would stop ruining my fucking reputation." You slam the bottles on the table, and Joshua gives you a surprised look. "What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?" "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Joshua. Your stupid friend just cornered me at the vending machine, asking me all these stupid questions like he knows something about me. Newsflash! He doesn't, and neither do you!" You sit with a huff, and Joshua's ears are slightly red as he tongues his cheek. He glances down at the textbook in his hand, closing it and sliding it onto the table. You don't bother looking up at him, hearing the jingling of the door before he speaks. "Excuse me."

The door shuts behind him, and you look up to see that he didn't take any of his things. Meaning that he'd be back, after doing God knows what, and you'd have to deal with it. Sighing to yourself, you rub your temples, wondering how things got like this.

The semester just started. You didn't have time for this.

Silently, you begin to pack up your things. Your laptop goes in the designated slot, your extra tea gets packed snugly into the front pocket. You click your tongue, about to get up when the door opens and Joshua emerges with Jeonghan in tow, looking like a kicked puppy.

Your brows nearly reach your hairline as Jeonghan shuffles forward. Joshua gives him a hard look. "Apologize."

Sucking his teeth, Jeonghan gives you a once over before speaking quietly. "I'm sorry that my assumptions and behavior made you uncomfortable, and it won't happen again." The hand gripping your backpack loosens a bit, and Seungcheol pops up from behind Joshua with a sheepish look on his face. "I'm also sorry, Y/N. I know this is an odd situation for the two of you, and our instigation doesn't make it any better." Your jaw is a bit slack, and Jeonghan looks at Joshua. "Can I go now?" "Did you hear her accept your apology?" He asks, and Jeonghan sighs. "I guess not." Blinking, you just give Jeonghan a thumbs up. "You're…you're good, yeah. Uh, don't worry about it. You either, Seungcheol." You look over Joshua's shoulder to the older man, who smiles in response.

"We'll get going, then. We've got a party to plan." Seungcheol says warmly, and Jeonghan turns on his heel to exit the room. "I don't want to hear this shit from you guys again." Joshua mutters, all but slamming the door after them.

"You didn't have to do that." You mumble, and he looks at you with a scoff.

"Yes, I did. Whether we slept together or not is none of their business, and the only reason they know is because they were there. I don't need that being spread around campus or them being douchebags to you." He grabs the textbook again, uncapping the dry-erase marker before glancing at you. "Sit down, you've got me for two hours." You don't like the slight flutter in your stomach, or that your body involuntarily does as he says. You silently unpack your bag again, and he finishes writing example problems on the whiteboard. Feeling your stomach a bit uneasy, you uncap the tea to take a sip.

"Conjugation is very important. When I was grading your quiz, I noticed that was your biggest problem. I don't know how you got a B, really, when most of that quiz was conjugations, but I digress. Can you do these for me?" He holds out the marker, an expectant look in his eyes.

"Sure."

Friday, September 16th.

It'd been a little more than a week since you met with Joshua in the library.

And since the two of you officially acknowledged that you'd slept together. What you didn't know was, while he was having his own feelings about the history that weighed the two of you down, he wasn't going to force you to return his affections. In fact…he even felt a bit silly, liking you so much off of three weeks of getting the full experience of…well, you.

Better yet, he wasn't even going to tell you there are any residual feelings on his end. If he knew anything, it was you and your type. If he came off too strong – flowers, a date, chocolates and the like, he'd scare you off even more. You were skittish, like a deer, and he had to either slowly gain your trust…

Or irritate the living hell out of you every chance he got.

Subtle flirting, double entendres, maybe the occasional lingering look. He knew that if he wanted a chance, and man did he want it – he was going to have to work for it. No problem, though. You were definitely worth the wait.

"So, as you can see, the proper conjugation is hablar, not hablando." His laser pointer is steady at the bottom of the projector screen, and he looks up to see half of the class staring intently and the other half jotting down notes. You were neither of the two – your head was resting on Chan's shoulder, eyes low. He cleared his throat, your head jumping up and a wince crossing your features.

Joshua knew Chan was really no threat. The fraternity really liked him, and he was set to move in this weekend. According to Chan's Instagram story, you'd been at his dorm the night before helping him pack up. Saerom had also been there, and Soonyoung – another Beta Tau member. You had been holding a can of Red Bull and in one of the following videos, you were shotgunning another.

"Any questions?" He calls out, and Haerim shoots her hand up. "Yes, Haerim?" "Since this is a conversational class, how would we ask someone out? Or, for their number?"

The classroom fills with childish snickering, and Joshua just smiles as he shakes his head. "Well, I-" "I don't think this is an appropriate question, to be honest." Your voice is heard from the back of the classroom, and Haerim turns in her chair, a wicked smile crossing her lips as Joshua rounds the desk, perched on the edge of it. "And why not, Y/N?" She asks, and Joshua can see you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

"This is Beginner Spanish Conversation, not Coffee Meets Bagel. Flirt on your own time, at your own pace." You scoff, and Haerim's smile only grows wider. It's like she knows something about you, and Joshua notices you begin to bristle slightly. "Why are you so uptight about it, Y/N? It's just a question." "I'm paying for this class, as is everyone else. I think I'd like to appreciate my money's worth by learning something I'll actually use." "Alright, ladies. Honestly, Miss Y/N is partially correct. This is not Café y Rosquilla, but I do think that this is…a learning moment. Asking someone out does involve conversation, you know." Joshua attempts to diffuse, but he can see your subtle annoyance at his siding with Haerim. "So, for example, if I wanted to ask out…" He looks around the room, before a flash of diablerie crosses his eyes. "If I wanted to ask out Miss Y/N, I'd have to make conversation. I'd say…eres muy bonita." "Yeah?! What else?!" You hear Myungjun shout from the far left side of the room, and you can feel Chan's knee bumping yours. You scowl at him, earning a smile as he hides in his hoodie. "I'd say…" Joshua scans your face, and he knows you're probably embarrassed. Embarrassed, but enjoying his subtle attention. He pushes off the desk, pacing in front of the students. "Hm, I'd probably say I like her dress, or me gusta tu vestido."

He watches you cross your legs, tucking the extra fabric of your black dress under your thighs. "Okay, but how do you ask her out!?" Haerim interrupts excitedly, and Joshua is on the first step of the stairs before he catches your eyes again.

"You don't just ask someone out flat out like that. You build repertoire, you make conversation." He rolls his eyes playfully, and you think you're about to get off without any further embarrassment when you hear Chan speak up next to you. "How much repertoire can you even build at this point? Psychology says it only takes two minutes to decide if you like someone." Joshua sees you gape at Chan, before pinching his bicep. Chan pouts in your direction, rubbing his arm as Joshua holds back a laugh. "Psychology also says that there are five components to figuring out if we will have a crush on someone. Physical attraction, proximity, similarity, reciprocity and familiarity. Miss Y/N is very pretty, so physical attraction is checked off. Proximity is also checked, as we see each other three times a week for this class." "What about similarity?" Myungjun pipes up again, making you sink lower in your seat. Joshua is enjoying making you squirm a bit, and he steps up a few more. "Hm, I think that's something I'd have to figure out. Tell me, Miss Y/N, do you enjoy…long walks on the beach?" Your eyes are full of fire, and you'd be almost scary if he didn't notice the way your lip wanted to twitch into a smile. Haerim shouts for you to answer the question, making you send her a scornful look – and she just sticks her tongue out at you like a child. "I do…enjoy long walks on the beach."

"What a coincidence, so do I! Now, we have a similarity. Miss Y/N is familiar, because again, I do see her quite often. Now, it's about reciprocation. This is when you ask the question, this is when you try and make a move." "Shua, how do we make the move!?" Chan asks, and you kick his shin, about to tell him to shut up when Joshua finally reaches your row. He's looking you dead in the eyes, his hand gently wrapping around the edge of your desk. He leans forward, and you can hear the stupid woo-ing of your classmates. "Señorita Y/N, ¿le gustaría salir conmigo?"

Somehow, this all feels like some stupid romcom for the both of you. The class is egging you both on, and Chan is next to you with the most idiotic smile you'd ever seen. You huff, the class is now chanting for you to agree to said…"fake" date.

"No." You say quietly, and Joshua feigns pain. He holds his hand to his heart, a pained expression on his face. "You wound me, Miss Y/N."

He turns to the class, all of which are giving you the dirtiest look ever. "Now, now. This was just an example, don't look at her like that." He scolds, and the class turns back to face the front as he barrels down the steps, checking his watch.

"Shit, it's already ten past noon. You guys are free to go, and if any of you are taking Psych with Professor Seo Jungkwon, tell him I fulfilled his lecture for the day." This earns a laugh from the class, except you. You're angrily stuffing your laptop into your bag, the class eagerly exiting the room. Chan is holding your arm, apologizing most likely, but you don't seem like you want to hear any of it. By this point, Chan looks a bit like a kicked puppy as he quickly takes the steps down, with you following slowly behind him.

Chan is out the door by the time you make it to the last step, and the classroom is empty.

You arms are crossed as you approach the desk, where Joshua is quietly shutting down the projector. His eyes don't meet yours as he disconnects the machine from the wall, winding the cord up to tie together. "Y/N." He calls gently, and you huff angrily. He bites back a smile.

"Why do you insist on embarrassing me? The first week, it was you running your mouth to my best friend. Last week, you practically held Jeonghan at gunpoint to apologize to me. Today, it's putting me on blast in front of an entire classroom with people I will continue to see for the rest of the year."

"Oh? Was it embarrassing?" He's nonchalant as he looks up, tucking the wrapped cables behind the projector. Your eyes are narrowed, and it seems you've caught onto his little game. "Do you get off on this or something? Knowing you fucked one of your students?" "Hm, not necessarily. And none of what was done was done to embarrass you, per say. It's just decent honesty, and we both know you deserved an apology for Jeonghan's behavior." He states matter-of-factly, making you purse your lips. "What about your behavior? You asked me out in front of all these people!" You gesture to the empty room, and Joshua gives you a small smile. "And you rejected me in front of all of those people. The way I see it, it's a teaching moment."

He's on the same side of the desk as you now, resting against it as you complain. HIs smile seems to be getting under your skin, because you grab his shirt by the collar, pulling his face close to yours before you speak through gritted teeth. "Use someone else as your stupid guinea pig. I don't want to be with you, Hong." You're holding him so close, your lips just barely brushing his. He can't help but scan your face quickly, his hand reaching to brush a stray curl off your face. Your eyes follow his fingers, feeling them tuck the hair behind your ear before he swallows carefully. You can feel your stomach flip slightly as his hand drops, ghosting over your hip as he pushes off the desk, making you slightly stumble back. His fingers grab you gently, pulling you flush to him before his nose is touching yours. "Tell me you don't want me," He whispers, his breath hitting your lips making your lashes flutter closed as you press your lips to his. A whimper escapes his throat as he kisses you back, his grip tightening as your hand lets go of his shirt, your palm resting against his stomach as your other hand holds his waist. The kiss is slow but desperate, your tongue licking into his mouth in the way that drove him crazy over the summer.

He can't help himself, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, moving his lips down your jaw and exposed neck. A sharp inhale from you as he reaches one of the many sweet spots he'd discovered, a soft whine sounding in his ears making him feel dizzy as he nips at your skin. Pulling back, he holds your face close to his as he speaks again. "Tell me you don't want me, and we can stop this right now. I'll be nothing but professional for the rest of the semester."

He can tell that wasn't what you were expecting. Your eyes are wide and full of mixed emotions, but overall, they flash with a bit of fear. "I…" Your hands move to rest on his hips, a frown on your lips as you let go, and he does the same. His arms cross with an expectant look on his face, and you grimace.

"Stop embarrassing me in front of people, and if you don't have a good reason to talk to me or be near me, don't engage at all."

He gives you a nod, his smile reappearing as he reaches to wipe your lip gloss from his lips. "That being said, I'm guessing you will not be attending office hours tonight?" Huffing, you look away. "No. I have to help Chan move into the frat house with you and your hooligan friends."

"So I'll see you tonight anyway." He speaks with a grin, and you tongue your cheek. "Leave me alone, Joshua."

You spin on your heel, but his arm is on your elbow before you can walk away. He pulls you back, pulling you into a hug, pressing his lips to your hairline as you hesitantly wrap your arms around him. He speaks against your hair, "One more. For the road."

"Joshua." You groan, trying to hide the giddy feeling spreading in your stomach. He smiles at you, planting a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Just one, and I'll let you slam out of here like we were arguing."

You roll your eyes, but let him slot his lips with yours, the minty taste of him still lingering from the previous kiss. This one is much gentler, the warmth of his body against yours comforting as he pulls away with a chaste kiss. And another. And another.

"You said one." You grumble, swatting at his side to make him let you go. He smiles, his thumb coming to wipe at your lips. Your lipgloss is gone entirely, just glitter remaining. "Mmh. I'll see you later." "Whatever." You pull away from him, and he watches as you slam your way out of the classroom, a few students from your class still lingering in the hallway catching his eye. They look questioning, but he just shrugs as the door closes. He sighs as he looks around the empty lecture hall, a glimmer on the third step up calling his eyes.

Making his way towards the steps, he sees the gold plating of a seven-pointed star, a message engraved in the back.

For my brightest star, Y/N.

Picking it up, the diamonds mock him.

He feels slightly stupid to think this is fate, while knowing that once you realize it's gone, you'll be panicking. It seems nothing is really going right for you these days – your car being hit, fighting with Saerom, not being able to stand your ground against him…and now your necklace is 'gone'. He wants to be selfish and say it's because you're being a bit of a jerk to him.

So he'll believe that.

– ☆ –

"Chan! It's not here!"

Your hands feel disgustingly dry, having practically ripped apart every cardboard box you helped him pack. You'd managed to haul everything from his dorm to the fraternity house a few blocks down, having begged Saerom and Soonyoung to help you steal a flatbed from the construction majors. The three of you were helping Chan unpack a box of his underwear when you swiped your hair back from your neck, not feeling the chain of your necklace on your skin.

The four of you had stopped unpacking the moment you started panickedly patting yourself all over, and even standing up to shake off your shirt and hair. Now surrounded by a few of Chan's blankets, you were doing all but ripping up the carpet in the bedroom to find your cherished gift.

"It's not in the hallway! Going downstairs!" You hear Saerom call, and Chan is emerging from the bathroom with his flashlight on. "I swear you had it on when we fought earlier."

"Fuck, what if it fell off there?" You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remember if you felt anything off after leaving the room. People stared at you as you barreled out of the language hall, you kissed Joshua…

You kissed Joshua.

"I'm pretty sure I had it on when I left! Remember, I even changed clothes when I got home so I wouldn't dirty my dress helping you move. I swear I felt it!"

At this point, you're shaking your hair out once more and Chan is throwing ripped cardboard into the hallway, hitting a passing Joshua. "Ouch!"

"Shit, sorry!" Chan winces, and Joshua scours the room, before his eyes land on you. Your hand is gently patting at your chest, where your necklace would usually sit as you shake out your sweater. He gives Chan a look, making him look back at you. Joshua glances at the cardboard boxes on the floor, and Chan gets the hint.

He clears his throat, garnering your anxious attention, "I'm going to take these down to recycling, and I'll check outside, okay? Just keep looking in here, it's gotta be somewhere."

Your eyes are slightly wild, and you just nod as you begin to shake Chan's blankets. A pair of underwear falls out, making you huff as Chan exits his room. Joshua leans on the doorframe, watching as you move around calculatedly. "What's got you so frantic?" You look over your shoulder, now squatted over a pile of shirts. "Why is it any of your business?"

He sucks his teeth, hands resting in his hoodie pocket. "Maybe I can help you? Ever think that I'm not out to get you like some sort of Boogeyman?" Your shoulders sag in defeat, and you just beckon him into the room. "Shut the door." You mutter, and he does just that before squatting in front of you, his ringed fingers splayed across the shirts in your hands.

"Shake these off."

"For?" He asks, but takes the first one and does as you ask. You feel a tear threaten to escape, but blink rapidly as he takes the next shirt. "Just do it." He does, but by the fifth shirt, he looks up at you. "You know…if you tell me what you're looking for, I may be able to help further." He says it like he knows something, and you just roll your eyes as you move onto the stack of Chan's sweatpants. "I lost my necklace, okay? I can't find it."

Stopping his movements, he smiles at you. "Hm, any idea where?" "No." You sigh, shaking off another pair of pants. A dollar bill floats out of the pocket, but neither of you bother to touch it as it floats down to the carpet. "I think you're wasting your time looking in here, actually." You look at Joshua, who is now moving to stand up. Scanning his face, your eyes narrow. "Where is it?" Stretching, he extends a hand to help you up. You scowl, getting up on your own as he shrugs. "Come on." He walks towards the door, flinging it open as two of the members run past with a basket full of eggs. "You better not be throwing those in here!" He barks, and their giggles only get louder as they barrel down the stairs.

He leads you to his bedroom, leaving the door ajar for you to close as you enter.

Your eyes scan the bedroom – it's very…serene. It's bigger than Chan's, and the bed is right under the window. There is sheet music pinned up to a corkboard above his desk, a few guitars propped up against the wall. His walls are covered in photos of him and his friends, and you spot one of him and Saerom as kids pinned higher on the wall than the rest. There is a small bookshelf, with a Bible and a few candles on top of it.

You're standing at the foot of this bed when you feel his hands on your neck, making you jump slightly. "Relax." He murmurs, the cool metal of your necklace making you shiver slightly.

"I found it on the steps in the classroom. Your clasp broke, so I took it to my friend in town. She's a jeweler, and she fixed it. I have the original clasp, in case you wanted to keep it." He holds up a plastic baggie, no bigger than the palm of his hand. You turn to look at him, your hand ghosting around for the star that hands in the middle of your chest.

"I should have texted, or emailed, at the very least. I just figured, I'd see you anyway—" "Thank you." You interrupt, your arms instinctively enveloping him into an embrace. You squeeze slightly, his own hands hovering over your back before touching you gently. "You're welcome." Without moving away, you speak into his sweater. "I'm sorry I've been such a douche to you lately."

He laughs a bit, his chest moving against your cheek. "Yeah…you have been. I'll send your parents an invoice for emotional damage." His fingers are rubbing circles in your back, and you hate that he knows you joke about your parents' emotional unavailability. Biting back a laugh, you push off him. Your hands linger at his sides, and he tilts his head.

"I meant what I said, you know." He states, and you glance up at him with a quizzical look on your face. "What?"

"That if you don't want to do…whatever this is, I'll leave you alone. I'll be professional for the rest of the semester." He gestures between the two of you. You don't look as taken aback as you did in the classroom, but a scoff does escape your lips as your arms fold across your chest.

"Okay? What does that have to do with now?" He steps a bit closer, making the back of your knees hit his bed. You sit out of instinct, watching as he runs his hand through his hair. He's so handsome.

"It has everything to do with you, and your general existence. Your best friend is my cousin. You're friends with Soonyoung, Jun and Chan, and they're all members of my fraternity. You're a student in a class I assist, we're going to be around each other no matter our feelings about each other." He's not really giving you an out of this conversation.

"I know you don't like that I told Saerom about what happened between us during the summer, and I want to apologize for telling her in the first place. It just slipped out, and I am sorry." He speaks sincerely, and you blink up at him before scooting slightly back on his bed, crossing your legs. He takes this as a sign to continue.

"I also want to say that what happened between us doesn't have to mean anything to you, at all." He shifts uncomfortably, making your eyes narrow. "I know it was just a fling, and I'm probably just confused about my feelings."

You hate the way tears prick at your eyes, before he spins his desk chair out, sitting down and leaning forward.

"I wanted to ask if you want to be transferred out. I have the transfer form ready, there is a spot in Professor Yoon Mirae's class. She said she'd gladly take you if that was the case." Your head snaps up at this, his eyes boring a hole into the pictures on the wall. "You…want to transfer me out?"

He stares at his fingers, toying with one of his rings as he replies. "I think it would be best for you. It only meets twice a week, and you'd probably get along better with Somin." He looks up at you, and you don't know what expression is on your face for him to immediately soften. "You don't want to?" "I think you…" You swallow thickly, scooting towards the edge of his bed, moving to stand up. "I think we need to forget that anything even happened between us." You whisper, and you can see hurt lace his eyes before he clears his throat, looking away from you as he nods. "Right." "I don't want to hurt you, Joshua." You fake confidence, noting the way he blinks rapidly, before standing up. "You're not hurting me, Y/N. We fucked over the summer. It's not like we dated."

You wince at his use of words. "Yeah, but–" HIs hand pushes the baggie with your clasp in it into your hand, "Don't worry about it, Y/N. I'll see you in class on Monday." Your fingers instinctively close around his, moving to squeeze his hand before he pulls it away. You stare up at him, feeling your face slightly burn in humiliation. You know that he's sensitive, and that the kiss earlier today probably meant a lot to him. Why is he acting like this? Like you didn't open up to him and tell him everything you couldn't even tell your best friend, like you didn't sleep with him for three weeks straight before leaving Puerto Vallarta.

You remember Chan's words…something something forming a crush in two minutes.

What can happen in three weeks?

"Was that all it was for you?" You ask gently, watching as he turns away from you. "I really don't want to have this conversation right now." He mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose and walking towards the door. He tugs his hoodie off, the white muscle tank showing off his broad shoulders. Shoulders you dug your nails into that summer, and you can see the remaining faint lines from you trailing down his back.

"Was it just sex?" You ask again, and he sighs. "No. It wasn't."

He hangs the hoodie up on the hook behind the door, and you take a step to him. "Then why are you acting like this?" He turns to look at you, eyes wide with incredulity. "Me?! Why are you acting like this? For almost a month you couldn't keep your hands off me, you couldn't stop talking about hating your life here, and suddenly, through whatever force of the universe, we're both stuck in this life that you dread. Excuse me if my best effort isn't enough for you." Eyes narrowed, you can feel your stomach bubble with a bit of anger. "There's no way you're the same guy I fucked for three weeks, Joshua. We were on vacation in a foreign country. I was telling you everything about me because I wasn't worried about ever seeing you again." "No, you did that because you're a liar." He mutters, making you suddenly feel a lot smaller than usual. "I am the exact same person I was then, Y/N! I'm not like you, I can't just flip-flop between two personalities. I can't lie to everyone that I care about just because I'm too afraid to stand up to my parents. You're doing yourself a disservice."

He's breathing heavily, and you can feel the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Your pride is stronger, though, and you let out a humorless laugh. "I'll see you on Monday."

You shove past him, throwing his door open and slipping out before you slam it with all your might. You see Jeonghan carrying a basket with Chan's name on it down the hall, his eyes wide as you storm past him.

"Are you o-" "Fuck off." You spit, not bothering to swing back into Chan's room for your stuff. Saerom could bring it home, or leave it there, you don't really care. All you really know is that this place has got to be the most suffocating you've ever felt.

Wednesday, October 12th.

It'd been almost a month since you'd last spoken to Joshua.

You weren't in class the following Monday, having instead driven out to one of your mother's properties. You stayed the weekend there, and only drove back in the middle of the night on Tuesday. Professor Lee emailed you, and so did Joshua – though his was very much a copy-paste email. You didn't seek him out, you didn't speak to him. He didn't even attempt to make eye contact, almost always being the first to exit the classroom. You didn't even really talk to Chan or Saerom since you'd helped him move into the frat house, and you could tell they were growing worried about you.

Especially Saerom, as she heard Wherever You Will Go by The Calling play through your speakers almost everyday since. You played this song the first time the two of you went on vacation together, you were nineteen and your grandmother had just passed away that past November.

You didn't have time to worry about their feelings, though, as you parked your car in the lot, Chan silently unbuckled his seatbelt. It was nine-forty-six in the morning, and the two of you sighed simultaneously. "Want to take the long way? We've got fifteen minutes." You check your watch, and Chan gives you a slight nod. "Sure." The long way was walking around the language building into the technology hall – and Chan decided now would be a good time to update you on how Jeonghan and Seungcheol had an ongoing prank war with Mingyu and Wonwoo. It apparently wasn't going to end this weekend, and the reason? Beta Tau Omega was notorious for holding the best Halloween ragers. They held the largest one every year, with the other frats on campus stumbling to be pre-game parties and sororities simply giving up and going to the parties instead of hosting. The problem here was sourcing – Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua planned the party every year, including the random Jell-O wrestling and drinking contests. The liquor was never-ending, and the clean-up after was a mess (and at the hands of the newest members.)

This year, Mingyu insisted that he and Wonwoo could plan an even better party than the trio – hence, facing the wrath of practical jokesters Seungcheol and Jeonghan. Joshua insisted he wasn't involved in this, and would help either duo with the planning if necessary.

"Are you even listening?" You hear Chan snap his fingers in your face, and you blink at him. "Yeah, sorry. Planning?" He begins to speak again, allowing you to loop your arm with his and rest your head on his shoulder when you look up – and see Joshua leaning against the wall, twirling a strand of Baek Hyejin's hair. She was the Organic Chemistry TA, you got your labs graded by her. She was always very sweet.

You can feel eyes on you as you and Chan walk in lockstep down the stairs, and you see Joshua staring at you as Hyejin speaks to him. Nodding along as if he's listening, as if he cares. You scoff inwardly, shaking your head as you force your eyes forward, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach.

It doesn't even matter. You don't like Joshua, and you wouldn't date him, either. You had too much to lose.

Seeing as you drove down to one of the properties, you met with your mother, as well. Your Saturday was spent in your mother's office, designing a new building with her to place on one of her newest properties down south. "You're going to manage this one first. The other tenants don't know you yet, and you'll have to ease into getting them to like you."Your father wasn't around the entire weekend. Your mother sighed repeatedly over dinner, before ultimately abandoning her plate at the table and whisking herself away with a bottle of Merlot. You didn't ask many questions, but you do remember walking by her study before going to the guest bedroom and hearing her on the phone, presumably with her sister.

"I wonder when she's going to get married. He can't be some random guy…do you still keep in touch with the Mins? Maybe Yoongi is willing this time." You hadn't even graduated yet, and she was already trying to pawn you off. Your father had stated strictly that he didn't want you to marry until you were firmly situated within the companies he owned, and your mother constantly bickered against it. No one ever asked you what you wanted.

Not that it mattered, anyway.

"...And so, Mingyu had to wash flour out of all his bedsheets. I think we'll have to get a new washing machine." Chan sighs as the two of you turn into the language hall, and you grimace. "You probably will, that shit sticks like glue." "Yum, gluten patterns." Chan laughs as you shiver, walking into the classroom. Somehow, Joshua is already there, making your grip on Chan's arm tighten a bit. He gives you a concerned look, but allows you to pull him slightly closer to you as you climb the steps to your regular seats in the corner.

"Good morning, everyone!" Joshua calls with a smile, and you hear the majority return the greeting as you and Chan situate yourselves. Crossing your legs, you face forward to see Joshua holding up a three-page packet. "There is a quiz!" A collective groan echoes the room, and Joshua gives a sorry grin. "I know, I know. However, it is an open-note quiz! Feel free to use your notes, and there is no time limit, even if you go over the noon end of the class. Take your time, and you can leave right after you're done." The class just fills with murmurs as everyone begins fishing through their bags for their notebooks, but you made no effort to do so as Joshua began walking around to distribute the papers. He hands two to Chan, who passes you yours and you notice the way Joshua's eyes linger to Chan's jacket on your shoulders before going back down the steps.

"I'll be grading these tests over the next two days, and I'll submit your grades by Thursday night. That way, we can review on Friday and you can attend office hours later that day if you're not satisfied with your grade or just feel like you need a little more help. Sounds good?" He asks, and earns a resounding yes from the class.

Time seems to be dragging on as you carefully read and re-read every question, hoping that your lack of notes won't fuck you over. You remember Chan giving you shit last week for only taking notes on your laptop – and you probably should have listened to him when he told you. Why? Because now you're without notes and you're possibly a little more than screwed, you've only been studying for your other classes.

Your 'how hard can it be?' mindset was now biting you in the ass.

You glanced up to the clock, seeing that there was fifteen minutes to noon – and three students remained aside from you and Chan. Clearing his throat, Chan inched his notes closer to the edge of his desk, making you kick his foot to move them back. He huffed, closing the notebook and standing. He tucks it into his backpack before hiking it over his shoulder, whispering that he'd meet you at the cafe as you'd planned last night. You nod, blowing him a joking kiss before hearing Joshua clear his throat.

The two of you look up, seeing the assistant with a raised brow, beckoning Chan towards the front. Chan gives you a small smile, before making his way to the front. You can hear them whispering at each other, and another two students stand up. You can feel a bit of nervousness sinking into your stomach as the last student stands as well, her bag on her shoulder as she drops her test on Joshua's desk. They chat for a bit, and you hate how you can hear his smile.

"B plus, way to go, Jiwoo. Keep this up, you'll get an A on the final!" He cheers, and she gives him a thumbs up before prancing out of the room. You feel small in the giant room, and Joshua sighs as he leans back in his chair. His laptop is out, and you assume he's going to start inputting grades.

Instead, you hear soft music flowing from the laptop as he starts moving around, grabbing the broom from the corner of the room. "Let me know if it bothers you, I'll turn it down." He speaks, and you just wave him off without looking at him.

You're staring at the stupid question for five minutes before huffing, not knowing why the difference between the subjunctive and the indicative mood even matters for this class. (Yes, you do. You're just being stubborn because you don't know the answer and it bothers you.) "Having trouble?" Joshua calls from the front, a smile on his face as he texts someone back on this phone. Probably Hyejin.

Probably planning a stupid date at a stupid restaurant where they'll order stupid dishes. Probably staring at each other like idiots and liking each other so much that nothing seems to satisfy their carnal needs–

You stop scribbling on your paper, blinking at your sudden train of thought. Why do you even care? Why does it even matter who he's texting, and what he's doing after this? Why? "Y/N?" He calls gently, and you look up to see a worried look on his face. "You okay? Thinking kind of hard, aren't you?" You huff, grabbing your bag by the strap and slightly crumpling your paper as you grab it. Your anger seems to radiate off you as you rush down the steps, nearing the desk with a sour look on your face. "So much for taking my time, huh?" He gives you a small frown, holding his hand out for your quiz. "I wasn't rushing you, just asking if you're alright. Your face was scrunched for twenty minutes." You know it was. You can still feel the tension between your brows as you rub it gently, a pout on your lips as you hand him the paper. "Yeah, well…your job isn't to stare at me. See ya."

"Hmm, but I like staring at you." He hums, uncapping his pen with his teeth as you make your way to the door. "Have a good day, Y/N." You hate the sing-song of his voice.

– ☆ –

The cafe had been super packed, so you and Chan decided to take your drinks to go. Unfortunately, Saerom was holding a study group at the apartment, so your only option was Chan's room at the frat house. You begrudgingly let him try to cheer you up as you sulked up the stairs to his room, holding your drink as Chan carries your bag for you.

"You know, one of the brothers thought we were dating? They asked me after I left Spanish earlier." He ponders aloud, and you snort. "Yeah, I can see why. I do get…pretty affectionate." You reply sarcastically, taking his hand in yours for extra emphasis.

He rolls his eyes as the two of you reach the top floor, and he fishes his keys out as you continue to tease him. "I'd never date you, you're a snotty-nosed brat. I bet you don't even know how to kiss." He sticks his tongue out at you, making you gape.

"I may be a snotty-nosed brat, but I'm a great kisser. Not that you would know, you've never felt the touch of a woman." You bite back, making him gasp. "I have too felt the touch of a woman! You literally took my-" He cuts himself off, looking over your shoulder down the hallway. You furrow your brows, looking over to see Joshua whispering sweet nothings in Hyejin's ear as he hugs her, and her giggles as she brushes her nose against his.

"I'll see you later?" He mumbles, eyes low as he nearly kisses her. She giggles again, before placing her manicured nail on his chest. "Bye, Joshie." "Bye." He smiles, letting her spin out of his arms, watching as she walks down the hall to the stairs. Only then does he notice that you and Chan are standing there, and his face flushes lightly. "Hey, guys. Sorry you had to see that." "Don't be." Chan nods awkwardly, his hand finding your hip to pull you into his bedroom. You grimace in Joshua's direction, before skirting into Chan's room. Chan lingers at the door, before sighing, and entering his room.

"Don't be upset, Y/N." He murmurs as you kick your shoes off, setting your drink down on his desk and shrugging off his jacket. "I'm not upset." You mutter, grabbing your bookbag and pulling out your laptop.

"I can tell you are." He sighs, slipping his shirt over his head, and opening his drawer to reach for a new one. "He's just our TA for a little longer, then we'll both pass the class and get the hell out of there." You look over your shoulder as he pulls a new shirt over his head, rolling your eyes. "It doesn't matter. He's gonna fuck who he wants to, so all I can do is the same." "Y/N, I am only a man." He gives you a warning look, and you snort. "Not you, you rabid dog." "Hey! I've gotten better! I even invented a stroke, I call it the helicopter." He moves his hips in a circular motion, making you shriek out a laugh. "You're a fucking freak."

"I'm just saying, I'm available. If not, I heard that Myungjun is still into you." He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. You wrinkle your nose, taking a seat on his bed. "Hell no. He likes to talk about his hookups, I don't like blabbermouths." "Then you're fucked, Y/N." He smiles, taking a seat at his desk. "But, I have a proposition." "Chan, if it involves your dick anywhere near me, I'm going to kill you." "You liked it the first time!" He throws an eraser at you, and you snicker. "I didn't know any better then. Anyway, I see the way you look at Haerim. You're not slick." You wag your finger at him, and he flushes lightly.

"So my plan is, I let you act a fool in here and make it seem like we're fucking, and you have to help me get Haerim. Tit for tat." He points his pen at you, and you scoff. "That is so not tit for tat! Haerim is a distinguished young woman, she'd never go for a gremlin like you." "Hurtful!?" He slumps in his chair, making you snicker. "I appreciate your help, Channie. But really, I don't care. It's his life." You shrug, and Chan knows you're lying. "I'm gonna get some water, I'll be back."

You hop off the bed, smoothing your skirt as you open the door. "Can I also steal snacks?" You ask, and Chan nods. "Go for it, Seungcheol buys them." He snorts, and you give him a grin as you close the door behind you.

You take a deep breath as you brace the stairs, hearing a few of the frat brothers speaking quietly in the den. Peering over the banister, you see a card game strewn on the coffee table, with Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Joshua holding cards. They're all dressed comfortably, and Seungcheol has an ice pack on his knee. He looks up, seeing you peering over the banister. He doesn't speak as you smile at him, only returning it as you continue down the steps. You make it back down to the first floor, giving them a curt nod as you walk past them into the kitchen. "Gentlemen." "M'Lady." Jeonghan replies without looking up, and you look over his shoulder to see that he's got a dirty deck of cards, and he's about to win. "Don't mind me." You skirt into the kitchen, grabbing two cups out of the cupboard and helping yourself to the ice machine. You mind your business as you move around, grabbing a bag of chips and a packet of Gushers, before you see a woven basket on the counter with an assorted amount of condoms. You grab a rope of them, holding it between your teeth as you tuck the chips under your arm and the glasses in your hands. You move back across the den, once more greeting the men. "Gentlemen."

Joshua looks up to see why your voice is different, seeing the blue foil packet reflecting the light. Seungcheol snorts, "Have fun, don't be too loud. Minghao is sleeping across the hall from you." "Will do, Cheol." You reply, carefully trekking the stairs. You can hear a soft Ow! What'd you do that for!? as you reach the top floor, hearing the front door slam. You put the cups down on the windowsill next to the stairs, and look over the banister to see Seungcheol and Jeonghan snickering. "Did he leave?" You call, and Jeonghan gives you a thumbs up. You rip the top condom off the thread before tossing down the rest. "Thank you, Beta Tau Sluts!"

"You're welcome!" Seungcheol calls back, catching the condoms before they land in his drink. You grab your drinks again, carefully opening the door with your elbow and Chan looks up to see you. You set the glasses down on his desk, holding up the condom between your fingers.

"Use this with a really special girl, I just pissed off the Vice President of your frat with it." You snicker, and Chan just shakes his head. "Get in here, idiot. We need to study, or OChem is going to eat us for breakfast." "Oh, me first!"

Friday, October 14th.

Joshua put in grades the night before, and you were one point shy of a B minus.

You pretend it doesn't bother you.

Chan was sick, so he'd texted you that morning asking to take notes for him. You took the opportunity to invite Haerim to sit with you – and talk him up. Luckily, there wasn't much talking to do – she already thought he was very cute, but didn't make a move because she thought the two of you were together. You were honest about the past between you, and she just snorted, admitting she'd done the same with a friend of hers.

Msg To: Channie ♡

[10:33AM] mission haerim x chan is a go! [10:33AM] i gave her ur number so…don't fumble.

"Hello, everybody." Joshua calls from the front, and you and Haerim snap your heads up. He starts setting up the projector after everyone replies to his greeting, and she glances at you. "I wonder who broke his heart over the summer." She sighs, and you nod.

"I don't think she meant to." You shrug, your heart warming a bit at the memories. You really regretted it, of course – and it bothered you that it didn't bother him more. You'd been spending a lot of your nights just thinking about it, about him, about opening up to him.

"Well, I hope he heals. She definitely messed up, I've heard he's an absolute sweetheart." She nods, and you smile tightly. "Yeah, he is. His cousin is my best friend. Saerom?" She nods again, "I have Psych with her." "Alright, we're reviewing today." He sighs, and you notice how tired he looks. Eyes are a little swollen. Maybe Hyejin dumped him.

You don't like the giddy feeling you get at that thought.

The review goes by quietly, with Joshua's voice growing more and more tired as he speaks, and he wraps the class up with almost thirty minutes to go. Students walk by and say they hope he feels better, and he just nods at them. You linger, telling Haerim you need to talk to Joshua about office hours, and she leaves without a second thought.

The door closes behind her, and you clear your throat.

"Sick?" You ask, holding out a bag of cough drops. You'd bought them that morning, after Saerom complained of sore throat. He glances at you, and the bag, before shaking his head. "I'm good." Frowning, you step closer to him as he puts his laptop in his bag. "Then what's wrong?" Your voice is gentle, and he stiffens at the sound of it. "Nothing is wrong, Y/N. Thank you for worrying, but I'm fine."

He looks up at you, his eyes lightly rimmed red. You go to speak, but he pulls his bag over his shoulder, moving away from you. "I'll be at the house today, Chan is sick. If you need to talk." You say, before spinning on your heel to leave.

He doesn't respond, only turning away with a frown. "Have a good day, Joshua." "You too, Y/N."

– ☆ –

You were standing in front of the Beta Tau house, waiting for someone to come open the door. Jun was at a study session with Saerom and Soonyoung was out teaching a class, so you were at the house alone. Hearing the doorknob jingle, you look up to see a sleepy Seungcheol opening the door.

"Hey, Y/N. Come in, Chan is in his room." He yawns as he opens the door wider, and you just shake your head in amusement. He and Jeonghan had stopped being a problem after Joshua called them out, and it wasn't long for you to figure out they were friendly based on their treatment of Chan. Very brotherly…very…teasing.

"Hey, Y/N." Jeonghan gives you a curt nod as he stands in front of the mirror by the stairs, giving himself a once over before turning to Seungcheol. "I look okay?" "Yeah." He nods, and you look at Jeonghan over your shoulder. There is a silver packet sticking out of his pocket, "Might wanna tuck that in a little further." You call, before turning back around and trekking the stairs.

"Thanks!" He calls, shoving his hand in his pocket with wide eyes. Seungcheol laughs as you reach the top, before you hear the door open and close with Jeonghan's departure. "Boys." You roll your eyes, before reaching Chan's door. You carefully open the door, trying not to let too much light in.

Chan is draped across his mattress, a fever patch plastered on his forehead. There are half empty bottles of electrolyte drinks all over the floor, and a bowl with Jeonghan's name printed across it. You look inside, seeing broth lingering.

They're taking care of him.

"Y/N?" You hear him croak, and you almost coo. "Oh, Chan. You're a mess." You set the bag of goodies down on his desk, fishing the thermometer out. "Open." You command, peeling the patch off his forehead and sticking the thermometer in his mouth.

You pick up a bit before the thermometer beeps, and you stare at the numbers. "Pretty mild, you've got a 101° fever." You grimace, shaking the thermometer off before skirting around to unpack the bag.

"I'm going downstairs to make you some tea, okay? I'll be right back." You mumble, before peeling the plastic off another fever patch and sticking it to the back of his neck. He shivers a bit, but nods as he closes his eyes.

Exiting the room just as carefully, you sigh. Taking the stairs quickly, you spot Seungcheol on the couch, "Hey." "Hey. He took some Advil a bit ago, and we've been alternating." He informs, and you can feel warmth spread across your chest. "Aw, you guys really care about the pipsqueak." "He's a good kid." Seungcheol nods, taking a sip of his water before eyeing the ginger root in your hand. "Cutting board is in the bottom cabinet, to the left." "Thanks." You smile, making your way to the kitchen. You see Joshua standing against the dishwasher, arms crossed and eyes closed. There is a popcorn bag in the microwave, likely his. You don't bother to say anything, just quietly opening the cabinet and retrieving the stone cutting board, rinsing it with water.

"He's also thrown up everything we've given him the past twelve hours." Joshua murmurs, his eyes still shut as he nods. "Oh. Sounds like viral gastroenteritis." You sigh, opening the drawer for a knife as the microwave beeps. He doesn't move towards it, but fills a pot with water for you and puts it on the stove. He watches silently as you slice up the ginger root, your shoulders tense.

The water starts to heat up, and you move to find a mug and honey. "Here." Joshua pulls one out from behind him, water droplets still on it from being freshly washed. You take it, "Thank you." "Can we talk when you're done? I'll be in my room." He murmurs, and you nod slowly. "Yeah, sure. I just need to feed him, something is something." He nods, opening the microwave to pull out the bag. He turns, opening a cabinet to retrieve a bowl and pour the popcorn in. He gives you a tired nod before exiting, and you peek around the corner to see him hand the bowl to Seungcheol, who thanks him quietly.

You sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. You strain the boiled ginger tea, pouring it over three cubes of ice and a hefty amount of honey. You clean up quickly, and organize things in the kitchen before exiting again, a spoon in your hand in case they didn't give you one for the porridge you bought.

"Good luck." Seungcheol smiles at you, and you give him a soft laugh. "Thanks, I'll need it."

Trying to get Chan awake proves to be most difficult once you get back to his room. He rolls over lazily, and you have to prop him up so he can drink the tea. You also carefully prepare his porridge, even going as far as spoon feeding him.

"It's so bland." He whines, and you just shake your head at him. "It's supposed to help your stomach, Channie. Just eat." He gets halfway through the bowl before he decides he doesn't want anymore, asking you to just leave it. You nod, putting the lid back over the top and choosing to clean up the mess in his room. Bottles, plates, cups, all in your arms as you exit the room once more, carefully walking down the stairs.

Seungcheol sees you, and quickly gets up to take them from you. "Woah, I didn't realize it accumulated so fast. Here, I got it, pretty." He grabs everything in one hand, before taking it to the kitchen. You follow, rolling up your sweater sleeves when he waves you off. "You're a guest. I got it, go." You find yourself floating back into Chan's room one last time, just peeking in to make sure he's sleeping. You call out, telling him to call you if he needs anything, that you'll be here for a bit. He just gives you a thumbs up. You take a deep breath, seeing Joshua's door slightly ajar. You walk over slowly, knocking on the door gently and poking your head in. He looks up from his desk, his laptop open to six different tabs and a drafted email. "Come in."

"Hi." You greet, closing the door behind you. He sighs, rubbing his palms on the fabric of his sweatpants. You inch toward him, looking at his screen. It's full of drafted projects, and the email is addressed to a certain Kwon Jiyong, DMA. You reach over and gently close the laptop, his tired eyes watching you do so.

"What's wrong?" "I'm sorry." He confessed, and you tilt your head. "Hm?"

"I was a jerk to you, the other day." He blinks up at you, and you stand for a moment, thinking back. "You mean when you called me a liar?" You smile, a soft laugh escaping. "I'm not mad anymore, you're weren't wrong. I am a liar." Shrugging, you point to the bed. He nods, and you take a seat. "Whether or not you are one…doesn't give me the right to treat you the way I did. I blew up on you, and I never do that, and it's frankly been eating away at me." He admits, and you nod, trying not to let your eyes go too wide. "Losing sleep?" "Unfortunately." Muttering, he opens the laptop again, typing in his password for the tabs to pop up again. "This isn't helping, either." he spins the mouse all over the screen, and you nod.

"Maybe you should take a breather. Go for a walk, find a muse." You offer, and he looks at you with a pained expression. You think this is the smoothest conversation you've had since your reunion. "Come on, let's go on a walk." You stand, offering your hand. He looks at it, and you wiggle your fingers.

He stands, taking it cautiously as you walk forward, grabbing his sweater off the hook and handing it to him. You open the door, seeing Haerim in the hallway with a bag in her hand.

"Haerim?" You call, your hand tightening around Joshua's, and she jumps. "Shit, Y/N. You scared me." She holds her hand to her chest, before holding up the bag. "I bought him some stew, Mingyu told me he's been really sick." Joshua peers over your head, making Haerim's eyes widen like saucers. "Shua?" "Hey, Haerim." He nods, and only then does she see the tight hold you have on Joshua's fingers. "I can explain–" You start, and she just smiles widely. "Damn, I didn't recognize your game. Respect." She nods, holding her hand over her mouth. You wince as he shrugs, tugging you slightly forward.

"Text me." She whispers as he walks past you, and you nod quickly. The two of you walk down the stairs, and Seungcheol is now sitting on the couch again – and he gives you a lazy smile. "Damn, Y/N. You've got hella game." You laugh embarrassedly, as Joshua fixes the way your hands are intertwined. He slots his fingers between yours, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door and opening it. "Ladies first." He murmurs, and you wave goodbye to Seungcheol before stepping out into the cool October air.

"Where to?" He asks, closing the door behind himself. You shrug, shivering slightly as you start down the path. "Wherever you need to."

The two of you walk aimlessly, before you spot the hill you used to visit during your sophomore year, before you finally convinced Saerom to transfer to your university. You'd lay on this hill with Jun, staring at the sky and talking to him about the stars. He was always surprised about how much you knew, but was kept in the dark like everyone else.

Everyone but Joshua.

"Here. I used to come here all the time." You point at the lavender-covered hill, and he lets you lead him up, before standing amongst all the flowers. "Look at the sky."

You tilt your head up, watching as the evening sunset looms overhead. He does the same, before speaking quietly. "I'm not dating Hyejin." Your head lolls to the side, a knowing look on your face. "I know." You lie, shrugging nonchalantly as you turn back to the sky. "How?" "You like me. Hard to move on so fast." You hesitate, and he inches closer. "Yeah?" "Yeah." You breathe, feeling the warmth of his body radiating onto you. You shiver a bit, and he sighs, tucking you into him. His sweater is open, and he lets go of your hand to wrap your arms around him. He does the same, wincing lightly at the cold feeling of your hands on his back.

"I'm still very sorry, you know." He laments, and you give him a tight smile. "I shouldn't have said any of it, especially not about your parents." He looks down at you, your eyes peering up at him already.

"My parents suck, don't take back what you say about them." You shrug, scanning his face. "I am confused about the Hyejin thing." "Right, that." He sucks his teeth lightly, a slight blush coating his cheeks. "She…asked for my help, and I have a really hard time saying no." "Of what nature was this 'help?'" You make air quotes, and Joshua can see a glint of the green-eyed monster in your demeanor. He smiles, moving to card his fingers through your hair gently. "Making an ex-boyfriend jealous kind of help." "Doesn't explain why you two were about to kiss when Chan and I got up the stairs." You say pointedly, his fingers toying gently with your earring. Another gift from your grandmother, he remembers these, too. A sun and a moon. "Let's just say I could recognize your voice from a mile away." You quirk a brow at him, before scoffing. "You're obsessed with me." "Since I saw you in that white dress." He nods, making you roll your eyes. You bite back your smile, "Can I kiss you?" "You're asking?" He tilts his head, and you snort. "Some of us don't like to assume things." You say with a tinge, and he shrugs. "I know when someone wants me." "I don't want you." You shake your head, a frown on your lips as you run your own hands through his mussed hair, peering over his shoulder to see an empty campus. Odd, for this hour. "Oh, you don't?" He entertains your shenanigans, before tilting your chin up to look in your eyes. "Nope." You pop the 'p', nuzzling your nose with his. His fingers are gently tracing your jaw before he presses his lips to yours. You melt into his touch carefully, his other hand softly holding your hip, squeezing before he pulls away, touching his forehead to yours. You blink up at him, "I don't want you. I need you."

"Did you sleep with Chan?" He asks, a bit roughly as he adjusts his hold on you. His hands move to rest on your back, and you shake your head. "Not recently, no." "Recently?" His eyes widen, and you snort. "Once, three years ago." You roll your eyes, and he nods. "No plans of sleeping with him soon?" "None." You murmur, and he bites his lip, a smile threatening to take over. "Plans of sleeping with anyone else?" "Don't know, there is this one guy." You pretend to think, pulling his hands to the front and lacing your fingers with one, taking him further down the hill slowly. The flower field comes into view, and you look up at the sky to see it's darkened remarkably. "Do you know the story of Altair and Vega?" "The story of Altair and Vega?" He echoes, allowing you to sit him down, plopping down next to him before clearing your throat. You nod, placing his hand on your inner thigh. "For warmth." You roll your eyes, before leaning back on your hands. "It's an old Chinese legend. Altair is the brightest star in the Aquila constellation." You search the sky for it, before spotting it overhead. "There." You point, and he nods.

"You told me about those three stars over the summer. Vega, Altair and Deneb." He recalls, and you feel your smile take over your face. "You remember that?"

"We can talk about that later." He shrugs, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you nod carefully. "Right…so, out of the three, Vega is the brightest. In their story, Altair is nothing but a shepherd. He herds cows after being abandoned by his family, and he yearns for love. His only love is music, and he plays lovely melodies on the flute."

Turning slightly to face him, you shrug. "Vega was said to be a goddess, from the Heavens that was forbidden from interacting with mortals, but she heard his song and it was love at first sight. She would leave the Heavens at sunrise and sunset to be with him. They even had children together. Her mother grew suspicious, and demanded she return to the Heavens. She did so."

"The shepherd had a beautiful ox with thick skin. Seeing the way his owner yearned for the love of the goddess, he offered his skin as a sacrifice to reunite them. It didn't work."

"Why?" Joshua asks gently, his eyes still staring up at the stars overhead. "Her mother was enraged. She created a band of stars to separate them. Their love can't be, not the way they want it." You sigh, and he glances at you.

"So what are you saying?" His voice holds no malice, only curiosity. You feel his hand tighten around your thigh slightly, prompting you to remove it and swing your leg over his lap, adjusting yourself to sit on his thighs. He gives you a look of confusion, but you just lace your fingers with his before taking a deep breath. "I'm saying that I'm a coward." You admit with a mutter, not able to look him in the eyes as you blink back the sting of tears. "I'm saying that…I want to, you know. I want to be brave, I want to tell my parents that I'm not their puppet, I want to pursue my own dreams." "What's stopping you?" He murmurs, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. "Fear." You sigh. "Fear of failing. Fear of…not being good enough." "Good enough for what? You're smart, you're passionate. You love this." He gestures at the sky, and you look into his eyes, his face blurry behind tears as you whisper just loud enough for him to hear you. "Good enough for you."

He sighs at this, reaching his fingers up to wipe at a few fallen tears. "There is another story in your legend, but in Greek mythology." Your head tilts to the side, and he smiles. "Lyra, means lyre. Orpheus was a musician in mythology, and a renowned poet. He even went down to Hades' hell to try and save his wife." "Eurydice." You murmur, and he nods. "He loved her more than anything, alongside his music. The story of how Lyra came to be, is that Eurydice died. She was bitten by a venomous snake and had long died by the time Orpheus found her. He was so heartbroken, he played the saddest melodies known to man and it affected everyone else just as much as it did him. He loved her so much, he went to the depths of Hades' hell to beg for her back, to live her full life, to enjoy her time."

He scans your face, feeling your fingers trace shapes into his abdomen. "Hades broke the rule, one time. He sympathized with Orpheus, and since they were both mortals, he knew they'd eventually return to him once their lives were over. The catch?" He took a piece of your hair between his fingers, twirling it through nimble fingers.

"Eurydice had to follow him out, and he wasn't allowed to look back at her until they got back to Earth, lest he'd send her right back." He said with a hum, watching as your lips pursed in discontent. "He turned back, didn't he?" "He feared she'd get lost in the dark. Just before they got back, just before they made it, he looked back and the gates to Hades' darkness were shut. He wept for her, for seven days and seven nights outside of those gates, but he never saw her again." He sighed, tucking the strand of hair behind your ear. "He was beaten to death by drunk women four years later, during a celebration for Dionysus. He never moved on, and was deemed a woman hater because he consistently rejected any and every woman for his Eurydice. His lyre was thrown in the river, and Zeus sent an eagle for it. That's how you got Lyra."

Pointing at the sky, the two of you watch how the sky slowly turns.

Without looking back at him, you whisper, "What are you saying?" "I'm saying…I don't want you to be Eurydice. Lost forever because I can't let you go." He splays his large hands across your thighs, the cold of his fingertips making you look back down at him. "But, I know that Orpheus and Eurydice deserved a happy ending. And I know that three weeks is a very short time to get to know someone, but I think…I know you better than almost anyone in your life." You stifle a laugh, nodding. "Nobody knows me like you, Joshua. Saerom doesn't even know I'm a double major." "Bad girl, very bad." He scolds you teasingly, before his thumbs press lightly into your thighs. "I want you to be happy. And if it means that this…whatever, we are…is a secret for a while, I'm okay with that." He shrugs, and you glance down at him.

"You know you deserve better, right?" You murmur, and he sighs. "It's either you or that lunch lady from my freshman year that's been after me for ages. Please, please save me." His tone is joking, but the look in his eyes is serious, solemn.

"Are you sure?" Your thumb pads his slight under eye bags, and he leans into it. "Yes, but don't give in to me so easily. I like the little mind games you play."

Snorting, you flick his nose gently. "What, so you want me to keep being defiant?"

"It's kind of hot." He crinkles his nose at the admission, and you let out a laugh. A genuine laugh, unlike your normal ones. "You're so…" He trails off, tilting his head to the side before sighing.

"I'm so what? Annoying? Stubborn? A snotty-nosed brat?" You prod, and he just smiles. "Yes, all of that. But…I don't know. You're so…easy to love."

"You…love me?" The confusion in your voice makes his chest ache. "I can't, uhm, I can't say I'm super well versed in the topic." He clears his throat, seeing your eyes become slightly glossy. "I just…I know that you feel right. I know that seeing you makes me less stressed. Nobody has been able to pull me away from my desk all week, Cheol had to physically drag me out earlier to eat something. I keep thinking back to our first night together, because the stress of some deadlines I have coming up is just driving me mad. But closing my eyes and just thinking about you, and knowing that you're not really this person you've painted for ages, I know. I think I feel closer to you, knowing that you've confided in me to keep this secret of yours, and I'm honored. I want to make you feel…wanted, needed. I want you to know that you are so much more than 'good enough.' If anything, I will never be enough for you, and I could spend the rest of my life working to earn you and your love." You're silent for a moment, taking in his words as your hands ghost over his. You give him a small smile, toying with the ring on his finger. "I should get you home." You murmur, and he smiles as he straightens, placing his hands on your back so you don't topple. "Anywhere you are is home, Y/N."

You don't respond, choosing to give him a chaste kiss. "We really need to get you home, I have to check on Chan." You speak against his lips, and he nods. "Fine, fine." The two of you get up, and Joshua files your lack of response into the back of his mind. Was it too much? Did he cross a line?

The walk is quiet, but you're holding his hand tighter than you had on the stroll earlier. You're holding him closer, even holding onto his arm with your opposite hand and resting your head slightly on his shoulder. When you reach the frat, he unlocks the door to see Seungcheol and Jeonghan debriefing about Jeonghan's date on the couch. Jeonghan almost calls him over when he sees you float in after him, a loud whoo! from his mouth.

"Shut up!" You groan, gesturing up the stairs. "Chan is sleeping!" "Woo!" Jeonghan cheers again, albeit quieter, and you roll your eyes. Joshua takes your sweater off your shoulders, and you allow him to do so as he hangs them on the rack by the door. "How was your date, Jeonghan?" "Good! She was very sweet, good taste in music." He smiles softly, before glancing between you and Joshua. "Did you…talk?" He clears his throat, and you feel Joshua's hand on your back, his eyes looking up the stairs.

"We can debrief what happened between us…at a later date." You smile, and Jeonghan gives you a knowing look. Seungcheol sips his beer with a smirk, shaking his head as the two of you climb the stairs gingerly. "Check on Chan." Joshua whispers, kissing the back of your neck before turning to his room.

Knocking gently, you open the door to see Haerim watching him carefully. She's holding the thermometer in her hand, shaking it as she sighs. She doesn't startle when she sees you, a warm smile on her face as she holds it up. "Still mild fever." "No vomit, right?" You ask, closing the door behind you. She shakes her head, pointing at the empty stew bowl she brought. "He practically inhaled it." "Traitor, he didn't want to eat the porridge I brought him." You scoff, and she laughs. "How was…you know." She gestures in the direction of Joshua's room, and you feel yourself get a little giddy. She notices the wry smile on your lips, giving your arm a soft smack before nagging you. "What happened!" "He likes me." You shrug, biting back your squeal as she bounces on her toes with a toothy grin. "He likes you?!"

"Yes!" You giggle, bouncing with her, and Chan groans behind the two of you. You both clench your teeth shut, lowering your voices. "I'll update you some other time, okay? I'll be at his beck and call, so don't worry about Chan." Haerim nods, not bothering to probe before she hikes her knapsack over her shoulder. She leans, pressing a soft kiss to Chan's hairline, telling him she's leaving. He nods weakly, squeezing her hand before she pulls away. "Should I get one of the guys to walk you home?" You ask, and she shakes her head. "My roommate's been waiting for ages for me to call her. I'll see you on Monday?"

She walks towards the stairs, and you nod. "See you, Haerim."

"Chan, I'm going home. Call me, or have one of the guys call me if you need anything." You call into the room, and he groans in response. You snort, grabbing your purse off his desk and carefully shutting the door, sighing as you take a few steps down the hall to Joshua's room. You knock lightly, opening the door when you hear him hum.

He's sitting in front of his laptop again, a frustrated look on his face as he connects a soundboard to his laptop, before feeling your presence. You smile at him, arms crossed before you speak, perching on the edge of his desk. "I'm going home."

"I know, I asked Cheol to walk you because I really need to focus." He says, a bit of sadness peeking through. You nod, "Thank you." "Can you text me when you get home?" His question is more of a demand, but you can see he's not trying to push it. "Yes, sir." You push off the desk, reaching to wrap your arms around his neck as he leans into his computer.

"Don't work yourself too hard, lover." You whisper in his ear, pressing a kiss to his temple before feeling his hand on your wrist, twisting his head to look at you. There's a soft blush coating his cheeks. "What'd you say?" "I said I'm going home." You change your expression to a stoic one, and he almost chokes on his laugh. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah, for sure." He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, "Let me walk you out, at least." "Don't kiss me in front of your friends." You warn, and he snorts. Standing, he watches as your arms drape to your sides before you clasp your hands in front of you before walking out into the hallway. You both barrel down the stairs, and hear Jeonghan whining over a bottle of tequila about his date. "She's so hot, Cheol, you don't get it." "I get it, I get it." Seungcheol replies distractedly, his eyes flickering up to you and Joshua reaching the foyer. "Ready to go, Y/N?" He stands, going to the closet to rummage for a jacket. "Yeah, thanks for doing this." You smile sheepishly, and Jeonghan looks up. "Oh, you're going home?" "Yeah, Chan's sleeping and…" You clear your throat, giving Joshua a quick glance. He catches on, "I'm busy. Doing shit. Important, you know."

"Tell us more about how you wouldn't be able to control yourselves, why don't you?" Jeonghan grimaces, and you snort. "This is why you're here, yearning for your date instead of being back at her apartment." "The hell is that supposed to mean!" He pouts, and Joshua snorts as he helps you pull your jacket on. "It means you're a bitch, Han."

"Don't make me tell Y/N all your dirty little secrets, Hong." Jeonghan tilts the shot glass in his direction, making you go wide eyed as Seungcheol returns, a blue and white varsity jacket draped over his shoulders. "Alright, let's scoot. The night is young." He stretches, and you smile at Jeonghan.

"Hope you get the girl, Hannie." You say softly, and his eyes soften. "Thanks, Y/N." "Bye, Joshua." You murmur as Seungcheol steps outside, muttering about the cold under his breath. Joshua looks to Jeonghan, who has his eyes closed, before pulling you into him. "One for the road?" You roll your eyes, "One for the road."

Thursday, December 29th.

The past two months had been a mess. Your parents had continuously dropped by randomly (and they dropped by the night of the Beta Tau Halloween rager), making both you and Saerom annoyed. She'd recently started seeing Jun (which kind of makes you grateful you're not in the apartment for their study sessions, who knows what freak shit they're on) and neither of you could study or rest in peace without feeling like they'd drop by.

Missing the party was the least of your worries, because you knew Joshua wasn't going to be involved in it anyway. He sent you a text from his desk, his guitar needing to be restrung because he couldn't pull himself away from his work. You'd told him to go for a walk.

Message From: Joshua Hong (TA) [11/03] What use is a walk if you're not there to kiss my worries away? You hadn't replied, opting to choose to scream into your pillow like a giddy teenaged girl.

In this time, you'd also managed to sit Saerom down and really speak to her about yourself. You told her that you didn't feel like yourself, and when she asked why, you broke out a bottle of wine and the two of you broke down the last few years of your lives. You admitted that you didn't want any part of your family's business, and Saerom had only given you a softened look.

"Don't pity me, Rom. You know I hate that shit.""I don't, my love. I don't pity you at all."

You'd cried quite a bit, and she'd just watched quietly and wiped your tears as they came. She understood, and she voiced that she thinks she would also do the same – the lying, the escapism, the misunderstandings. She apologized, saying she was sorry that she ever made you feel like you couldn't confide in her – smiling slightly when you said that she was never the problem, it was knowing that you'd be admitting to failure. She understood that, too.

The apartment felt more homey after that – Saerom took the time to go out and buy a few things she thought you'd like – a few constellation posters, a Lego set for you to build together of the Milky Way. She built the astronaut and NASA shuttle herself, placing those in your room when you texted her a few days after she bought them saying you'd had a rough day. She heard you crying in your room, only entering to comfort you when she heard you call her name.

These weeks were also particularly difficult because you'd seen less and less of Joshua. You never considered yourself the clingy type, and the Beta Tau brothers were definitely becoming more familiar with you as the days passed. You saw Joshua outside of class maybe twice, and it was once during office hours and once by going to the house to check on Chan right after Joshua admitted his feelings for you. He'd gotten a lot better, but you'd picked up his assignments from classes you didn't share so he wouldn't fall behind. He'd asked you what was going on between you and Joshua, and you just shrugged.

"We're taking it slow."

"Please don't fuck while I'm still sick, I don't want to hear it."

You and Joshua seemed to have no plans of doing so, it seems. Your schedules did not line up, and you could see him become slightly more stressed every time you saw him. Your classmates noticed something different about him, and you and Haerim just giggled in the back when he'd steal a glance at you. She never said anything to anyone, either.

Once school let out for the winter break (and you disappointedly passed Spanish with a B minus), you did everything in your power to avoid going home. You told your parents any lie you could grapple at – Saerom was sick, you were sick and didn't want to get them sick.

The truth? You just wanted to ring in the New Year with your…boyfriend? You didn't know what the two of you were, and you weren't afraid to admit that to yourself. He was graduating soon, and possibly taking a gap year before continuing his studies. You knew this much through texts – the one thing the two of you did have time for. He sent you voice notes on his way to anywhere, he'd send you pictures of the night sky before going to bed – asking if you could point out any constellations for him.

Message From: Shua <3 [11:32pm] Are you home? [11:33pm] Before you answer this, is Saerom home? I don't feel like explaining myself, I just want to lay the fuck down.

You snort at his message, giggling to yourself at his new contact name. You don't know if you'll ever get used to it.

Message To: Shua <3 [11:33pm] Saerom went home for the break. Something about introducing Jun to her mom.

His reply is almost instant. Message From: Shua <3 [11:34pm] Open the door, I'm freezing.

From your seat on the couch, you hear Joshua groan behind the door and you laugh. Tossing your phone to the side, you quickly get up and unlock the door. You see a pouty Joshua holding a bag of takeout, eyelashes lightly coated in snow as he enters the apartment. "You hate me." He whines, and you snort.

"I can make you go back out in the cold, if you'd like." You shrug, making him scoff as you carefully unravel his scarf. He closes his eyes as you take his jacket, and yank his beanie off his head with no care. "When do I get my kiss? I haven't seen you since finals, I deserve a kiss."

"It's like, twenty minutes until your birthday. You can't wait?" You roll your eyes, feeling a ball of fabric hit your back. You look down to see his pink glove on the floor, making you scoff out a laugh. "Now you're definitely not getting a kiss." "Oh my Goooood, you hate me!" He pouts, grabbing your arm and pulling you close to him. You shake your head, gently nuzzling your nose to his cold one. "Not one bit." You still hadn't told Joshua you loved him. Granted, the two of you were not dating and hadn't properly seen each other in literal ages – as much as 'ages' can be for two idiots in love.

"Why are you dressed like this? And why have I never been here before? This place is cool." He looks around, spotting the astronomy figurines Saerom had started getting for you, the walls covered in photos of you together and he spots the photo of you and your parents gathering dust on one of the shelves. He doesn't mention it.

"Dressed like what? My pajamas?" You look down, and he tugs at the seam of your shorts. "Rather…provocative." "Shut the fuck up, it's almost bed time." You roll your eyes, swatting his hand away from the bare skin of your thighs. He smiles amusedly, planting a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, before peppering them all over your face. His lips meet yours lightly, a chaste taste of his strawberry lip balm lingering on your plush lips as he pulls away.

"The bag is just mochi. I already had dinner." He says sheepishly, and you shrug. "I did, too. To be honest, I wasn't expecting company." "I didn't think you'd stayed on campus." He nods, and you sigh with a sad smile. "Don't wanna see my parents." "Right. How's that going?" He asks, pulling you to the couch with one hand. You let him lay down, pulling you on top of him. Your knees hug his hips as you straddle him, his hands resting high on your thighs. "It's…going. I should call them, but I really don't want to–" You hear the doorknob wiggle, tensing in Joshua's hold as you turn. The lock turns, and your muttered whisper of fuck makes all the alarms in Joshua's mind go off. You climb off of him as the door is pushed open, and you can feel your skin heat in embarrassment as your mother scoffs, stepping into the apartment. Joshua carefully slides off the couch, stepping next to you.

"Jesus, she keeps this place a mess." She groans, looking at the bag of takeout on your dinner table. She hasn't seen you yet, placing her giant designer bag on a chair as your father comes in behind her. "All you do is judge the girl, no wonder she doesn't want to come home." He rolls his eyes, but they land on you – standing with beet red cheeks and an equally embarrassed Joshua by your side. Your father's eyes dart to the link between you – Joshua's hand gingerly interlocking your fingers. You don't speak, and he looks at Joshua's eyes filled with slight worry.

"Can you go get her? She's probably holed up in her room, looking at those stupid mo– Who the fuck are you?" Your mother has turned now, her narrowed eyes on Joshua before landing on you. "Who the fuck is that? You said you were sick, and you have company over?" Your throat is dry, and you feel frozen when Joshua steps in front of you, shielding you from your parents' view. "You must be Y/N's parents. I've heard a lot about you, I'm Joshua."

He extends his hand, and your father eyes it before taking it, shaking it firmly. "Nice grip you got there, son." Your mother scoffs, tugging her scarf off her neck with a visceral anger. Joshua can feel you cower behind him, your fingers gripping onto the back of his shirt. "Joshua what? What do you do for a living?" He clears his throat, watching as your mother walks around the apartment without taking her shoes off, taking down stuff from the walls. "Joshua Hong. I'm a producer." He lies through his teeth, and your mother scowls as she sees the Lego version of the Milky Way hung right by your bathroom. She takes it down, tossing it carelessly on the couch.

"A producer? You won't make much money."

"That's enough." Your father speaks up, and sees you peer at him from behind Joshua. "What are you to Y/N? Boyfriend?" "Not allowed!" Your mother announces, her hands now occupied by your opened mail. Bills, bills, a credit card statement, bills…and your summer internship at the Korea Astronomy and Space Institute.

"I am…her boyfriend." Joshua whispers, losing a bit of confidence as your mother angrily walks back to your foyer. "What's this?" She holds the acceptance letter up, your eyes shutting closed as you see it in her hand. "Fuck." You murmur behind Joshua, and your mother begins to read it aloud.

"Esteemed Miss Kang, it is with great pride that we award you with the July KASI internship studying plasma physics." She crumples the paper slightly in her fist, and your father pries it from her hold as you step out from behind Joshua, and she really lays it on you.

"We told you from the start that these silly little dreams about space and stars were not going to happen. You are the sole heir to the companies, the properties, you have to continue the family business. Don't you care about that? Don't you care about paying us back for everything we've given you, and continue to supply you with? Don't you get that this is not an option?" She's not yelling, but her words cut deep as you nod slowly, the words tumbling out before you can stop to think about them properly. "I don't care." Your mother looks taken aback, and you feel your stomach flip as you clear your throat. "I don't care about properties, or companies. I don't care about money, or marrying for wealth. I…" You breathe in shakily, and Joshua instinctively puts his hands on your shoulders, an act not unseen by your mother's beady eyes.

"I don't care about being part of a family that is fueled by greed. I can't do it anymore. I hope that…you find another fit." The last part comes out as a bit of a sob, and you cover your mouth quickly. Your mother is fuming, and she turns to your father, who is silently reading the letter in his hands.

"I didn't know you liked plasma physics." He murmurs, and you feel Joshua's fingers squeeze your shoulders lightly. "I didn't even know what you were studying, if I'm being honest." Your father admits sheepishly, smoothing the crumpled edge of the sheet carefully.

"This is a very hard program to get into. I would know," Your father holds the letter out to you, and you reach to take it, holding the corner gingerly in your fingers. "You would know?" Joshua echoes, and your father nods.

"I applied. I got the June internship for aerospace engineering, my best friend was so jealous." You don't know the last time you saw your father smile. "I'm…proud of you. I know it's a little late in saying that, I've been quite the absent father.I guess, I can't even really say father."

Your mother is tapping her foot, garnering your attention again. "Whatever rebel strike you're on isn't cute, Y/N. I've got investors waiting to meet you, wanting to draw up contracts, to build new properties with your name across the front." Your father sighs, shaking his head as he looks at the two of you again. "Joshua, could you give us a moment?"

You turn to look at him, your eyes pleading him not to leave. He gives you a sorry smile, squeezing your shoulders before kissing your hairline. "I'll be in your room." He murmurs, and you nod, watching as he walks away, slipping into the only open door in the hallway. He shuts it behind him.

Your father sighs, leaning against the door frame. "Your mother and I are getting a divorce."

You can feel your eyes widen as far as they go, your mother flushing furiously. "Can I ask why?" "It's none of your business." She grits, and your father scoffs. "I'm selling the company. I'm tired, Y/N. Being in business is not what I want to do." He shakes his head, and you try to bite back a smile.

"It's not?"

"No. I'm donating the money to the Aerospace Engineering program here, actually." He gestures around you, indicating the University. You feel your lips tug into a smile, your father's warm eyes matching yours. "I don't understand why you can't just leave the company in Y/N's name so she can take over when we're both dead and gone. At least it sets up a stable future for her!" "She won't be happy, Bora! That's why I can't do that. Nothing in this life means anything if we're not happy." He groans frustratedly, and you feel almost taken aback by your father's words. He'd always been a silent man – a bit cold, with two friends and love for one thing: baseball.

And space, you now know.

"This is fucking ridiculous. I cannot leave my investors hanging, and I refuse to hand over my properties to someone I don't even know!" Your mother is exasperated, and you almost want to laugh at how you and your father shrug simultaneously.

"Whatever." She grumbles, snatching her purse off the chair, pulling it over her shoulder. She gives you a nasty look, "I assume this means you will also bail on meeting the Mins' youngest son? Yoongi has been waiting to meet you."

"Yoongi can shove it." You shrug, and she just shakes her head in disappointment – but for once…you don't care. She slams out of your apartment, her scarf flung over the back of your couch. Your father gives you a gentle smile, and you return it.

"I'm sorry for not being a better father to you, Y/N. I should have tried harder." He laments, and you see his eyes begin to gloss over with tears. You step forward, enveloping him in a loose hug. "I think…standing up for me and what you believe in, is a step in the right direction. I haven't been a very present daughter, either."

He laughs shakily, giving you a tight squeeze. "How about you and I get dinner in the next few days? You can even bring Joshua, I kind of like that kid." He mumbles, and you feel your stomach flutter at the mention of your…boyfriend's name. "I'll check our calendars and shoot you a text, okay?" "For sure, kid." He pulls away, softly patting your head. "I'll see you, okay?" "Yeah. See you." You nod, opening the door for him. He leaves with another word, your mother's scarf in his hand as he exits your apartment. You feel a wave of relief wash over you, but bite back your tears as you lock the door and march to your bedroom. Opening the door, you see Joshua flopped diagonally across your bed, phone in his hand.

It's twenty minutes past midnight, and the date reads December 30th.

"Hey, you." He looks over his shoulder, and watches as you pin the acceptance letter to the corkboard above your dresser. You put your hands on your hips, staring at it with a bit more content in your heart.

"Hey, boyfriend." You say, turning to face him. His ears turn pink, and he sits up. "It just came out, okay? I'm sorry, I know I haven't even taken you out to dinner or anything but I really, really–" You crash your lips to his, pushing him back onto your bed as you straddle him. "Yeah, yeah. No need for explanations." You peel your shirt off, tossing it to the side as he looks at you with wide eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Happy birthday, lover."

Saturday, May 6th.

"Joshua Hong."

You cheer loudly from the stands as he crosses the stage, watching his cheeks tinge pink as he hears you over the clapping and yelling from his fraternity. He smiles as the photographer takes his picture, before looking up at the stands to find you. You wave excitedly, and his eyes brighten all the more. I love you, he mouths.

I'm proud of you, you mouth back. Wimp.

– ☆ –

"Hey, gorgeous. You a tourist?" You're standing at the bar of the same salsa club you and Joshua danced at last summer when you hear Joshua's voice behind you, and you struggle not to roll your eyes. The two of you only stayed at the graduation long enough to watch Jeonghan cross the stage, before Cheol texted the group and said he was sneaking out.

The three of them had booked a last-minute trip…back to Puerto Vallarta.

"The city where you fell in love!" Cheol teased as the group loaded into the car, with you sitting on Joshua's lap in the backseat. Saerom was sitting next to you, and Junhui was giggling at the redness of your cheeks as the pair of douchebags teased you to no end. It didn't matter though – you felt Joshua smile into your shoulder as the group pulled into the airport.

"Yeah, I am. Are you?" You played his game, waiting until he finally came into your line of vision with the same baby blue guayabera you first saw him in. Your stomach flutters lightly as his hand ghosts your back. "Nah, I've been here before. Got my heart broken by a cute thing, she looked a little like you." "Alright, that's enough roleplay you weirdo." You scoff, shoving his hand away from you as he laughed, He stepped slightly closer, ignoring your faux annoyance. "Right, right…I know some cool places here, if you'd care to join me." His eyes twinkle something mischievous as the bartender slides you your drink. You take it with a thank you, before sighing and linking your arm with Joshua's. "Do you, now?" "I do. There's some pretty hammocks down the beach, you can see all the stars right now." He glances up at the sky as the two of you leave the club, your shoes clutched in his hand as your toes sink into the warm sand. You smile up at him, "What do you know about stars?" "Someone very special once told me a story about two lovers who couldn't be…and they reside in these very stars." He points at the sky, and you nod. "You know, I once heard a story like that, but they were involved in Greek mythology." You stare up at the sky, when you reach the hammock the two of you shared that first night.

"Really? Was it about Orpheus and Eurydice? I love that one." He smiles as he helps you on, fixing the skirt of your dress to cover your legs more. "Your star-crossed lovers, were they Altair and Vega?"

"So you do know stars." He slides in, and you rest your head on his chest. "I do. Love them, actually." "You're my brightest star." He murmurs, kissing your forehead lightly as his hand maps out the Lyra constellation. "It's so pretty, isn't it?" Looking back down at you, he sees the gloss over your eyes and sits up. "Babe! Don't cry, oh my God–" "I love you." You blurt, watching as his brows raise, his ears tinging pink in the low light of the moon. He lays back down slowly, and you scrunch your face before sitting up and looking down at him. "Hello? Big moment here, asswipe?" "Just a second." He smiles painfully, and your brows only furrow more. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm hard." He whispers, making you glance down. "Don't look at it! What's wrong with you!" He pouts as you burst into laughter, your hand resting on his stomach as you muffle your laughter with his shoulder. "It's not funny."

"You're such a LOSER!"

Pulling back, you wipe at your eyes, catching your breath.

"But you love me too, right?" You ask, peering down at him as he rolls his eyes, smiling widely. He brings you closer to him, his lips ghosting over yours as he speaks softly.

"I love you so much, I'd bring down the stars if you asked me to."

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 1 year ago

Text

I DREAM, NOW, OF A NORMAL LIFE WITH YOU ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content.

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways.

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk

you: …… um. you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug.

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes.

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics.

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds.

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here!

and there he is.

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor.

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence.

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky.

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it.

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder.

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now.

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes.

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely.

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…”

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss.

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm.

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental.

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers.

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours.

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat.

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real.

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat.

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.”

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears.

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough.

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him.

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend.

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day.

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?”

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever.

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace.

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more.

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more.

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you.

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming.

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved.

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about.

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him.

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are.

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever.

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him.

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue.

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling.

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat.

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take.

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind.

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead.

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable.

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover.

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done.

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise.

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face.

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement.

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks.

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you.

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause.

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork.

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking.

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever.

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently.

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend.

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know.

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

#finalllyyyyyyy took the time to finish this r u proud of me 👉👈#im very very soft for this sugu in particular :< kinda takes place in the same universe as the breakfast sugu fic !!!!#he’s ur smitten husband-to-be <333 i love to see suguru geto thrive and be happy i think being a househusband could save him #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #jjk fluff #geto fluff #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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hamliet · 7 months ago

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Derry Girls: A Masterclass in Detailed, Thematic Writing

Several years after the end, I finally watched Derry Girls, and it's become one of my favorite shows. Not only for the way it captures the absolutely unhinged aspects of Irish families (askmehowiknow) but for the sheer writing skill.

The vast majority of the episodes are laugh-out-loud hilarious, while also offering insightful commentary on the Troubles and on humanity's foibles as a whole. The characters are allowed to be human and act in unlikable, unsanitized ways, and to still be human and come back from that. (Almost like a metaphor for the Troubles or something.)

The story is also incredibly detailed; for example, when the girls are accused of killing a nun and Erin points out the nun was like, 98 years old and askes "might that shed some light on the situation?" there's an hourglass behind Sister Michael--emphasizing the idea that her time was up. Even more than that... the window is behind the hourglass, literally shining a light on it.

But that's a micro level. On a macro level, I also appreciated the way the story discusses the political backdrop that is part of its premise. Even as Erin, Michelle, James, Clare, and Orla grow up in a place that's been in a state of low-level warfare for decades, they live full lives. In fact, that's kinda the point.

Case in point: episode 4 of the first season, wherein Erin gets an exchange student from Chernobyl. The way the Northern Irish in general treat the Ukrainians is hilariously awful and patronizing, believing that they are giving them a respite from the troubles "over there" while Northern Ireland isn't in a much better state. But, as Sister Michael assures the Ukrainian students, the Irish troubles don't matter because "we're the goodies."

This line gets to the heart of what the episode is saying about political divisions and the way people view an "other." Everyone sees themselves as the "goodies." Because of that, they don't self-examine and wind up hurting the people they see themselves as wanting to help/save with their ignorance. It's a paradoxical egotistical (and frankly teenage) worldview that is also unwilling to look critically at oneself. The focus on their own perceptions over focusing on the actual humanity of the other results in ruining gifts that could come with cross-culture interaction, as seen in how Erin's misunderstandings and petty jealousy of Katya leads to her literally ruining a surprise gift Katya had prepared.

And the end of the episode also comments thematically on the story. One of the Ukrainian boys turns out not to be Ukrainian after all--he's actually Irish and from just down the road. He just didn't know how to say that. The ironic message is clear: despite differences in culture and views, they are actually all human beings, and assumptions make it hard for people to speak. If they could actually talk openly and without presumptions about who is "good" and who is "bad," they could prevent and solve a lot of problems.

This kind of background, symbolic commentary on the Troubles continues in just about every episode of the series. For example, even after the ceasefire, season 3 has an episode where it's discussed how negotiations are stalling, and the entirely of the rest of the episode takes place on a train that stalls between two separate places.

The Troubles are always something affecting their lives, but the only time the Troubles ever become the main story is in the finale episode. Which is also an episode that makes everyone cry. Michelle's brother is finally mentioned for the first time the entire series, yet it doesn't feel like a retcon so much as a recontextualization, and again mirrors how a lot of society (and Michelle's own family) have treated those who murdered others during the conflict.

Erin and James' relationship also works as a metaphor for the Troubles--an Irish Catholic girl and an English boy. Earlier in season 3, after they finally kiss, they're told they can't be together, that it's wrong, and that it'll create problems for everyone around them. Michelle doesn't want things to change. And Erin agrees that it's not good to pursue something.

But, in the final scenes, as Erin prepares to vote in the Good Friday Agreement and talks to James, she directly states she thinks things can't stay the same forever--thereby countering what she said to reject James earlier:

There's a part of me that wishes everything could just stay the same. That we could all just stay like this forever. There's a part of me that doesn't really want to grow up. I'm not sure I'm ready for it. I'm not sure I'm ready for the world. But things can't stay the same, and they shouldn't. No matter how scary it is, we have to move on, and we have to grow up, because things... well, they might just change for the better. So we have to be brave. And if our dreams get broken along the way... we have to make new ones from the pieces.

Symbolically, also, given that we know the outcome of the Good Friday Agreement, I think it's pretty clear Erin and James end up together even if we're not directly shown it.

That the last shot of the episode (besides the funny epilogue) is Grandda Joe, one of the eldest characters, helping his youngest toddler granddaughter Anna leap over a threshold as they leave the voting station, is also incredibly clear in its symbolism.

Erin: People died. Innocent people died, Grandda. They were someone's mother, father, daughter, son. Nothing can ever make that okay. And the people who took those lives, they're just gonna walk free? What if we do it, and it's all for nothing? What if we vote yes and it doesn't even work? Grandda Joe: And what if it does? What if no one else has to die? What if this all becomes a--a ghost story you'll tell your wee-un's some day? A ghost story they'll hardly believe?

I dunno, I think this is a sentiment we need more of in the world. A peaceful future means taking risks and accepting that punitive justice will not be perfectly doled out; however, if you allow more people to be hurt, is that not also injustice? It's a paradox that the story leaves us without a dogmatic answer to (for example, we never find out if Michelle's brother gets released), but it's also hopeful--because we know that the Good Friday Agreement largely worked.

(For further analysis of the final scene, I recommend PillarofGarbage's analysis on YouTube!)

#hamliet reviews #derry girls #erin quinn #michelle mallon #sister michael #james maguire #orla mccool #clare devlin

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ghostlycod · 2 months ago

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MDNI

what if reader is some Russian oligarch’s daughter (yknow, old money) and due to her parents supplying information to the task force, their daughter (you) comes under threat, so until the motherfucker who’s out to get your family is taken care of, they demand that you be placed in a safe house under SAS protection

queue weeks of hell for the guys being trapped in a safe house with your boujee, high maintenance, Russian princess-type ass. fucking 20 step evening routine, 10 step skincare, walking around in that creepy white paper cucumber mint face mask at night when the lights are off, doing yoga to “uplifting beats synth princess pop” music at the ass crack of dawn, bringing your own all organic gourmet fruits and veggies because you refuse to eat whatever bullshit they have stocked at the safe house, demanding special treatment for His Royal Highness Mister/Mistress Snuffles (your dog or cat (or both)).

and oh the attitude on you. spoiled, boujee, and picky. it’s not that you’re rude altogether, you don’t even say anything when you’re displeased really. you just expect certain things and turn your nose up when they refuse. no commentary necessary, your disapproval is clear even when it’s nonverbal. doesn’t that just make them sooo angry. Sooo frustrated. puts thoughts in their head like maybe someone needs to fuck that attitude right out of you. precious perfect spoiled little princesss, you’ve never had it rough, have you? but these are rough men, not used to comfortable and soft things, and they won’t go easy on you

maybe it’s not them stuck in here with you. maybe it’s you stuck in here with them.

#141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod mw3 #cod mwf2 #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #john “soap” mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #price x reader #captain price x reader #captain John price x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

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greyhoundone · 1 year ago

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Some things I found interesting from Rachel Talalay's live commentary of Heaven Sent at Chicago TARDIS:

- The story was originally set in a haunted house with weeping angels.

- Sometimes a single line would be shot across a mix of three locations: two actual castles and a set.

- The script was clear that the castle should have no interior lighting except for the fireplace where The Doctor dries their clothes. Rachel got some pushback from the crew on a shaft of light coming at an angle from outside, asking where the light came from. Her response was, "It doesn't have to come from anywhere. It comes from 'It looks good.'"

- Rachel worked to give more of a horror vibe to certain scenes. She did things like add a spooky wind, have Peter play the tone more for horror, and even consult with Murray Gold to keep the tone consistent. She also pushed for a “creepy garden” as opposed to the formal garden Moffat had scripted.

- Jenna wasn’t available for most of the shots where Clara is writing on the TARDIS chalkboards. They originally used a double, but the double was too obviously not Jenna. It was actually the person who did the colour grading who found other usable shots of Jenna from behind and put them in the final episode.

- Everyone was very worried about Peter hurting his hand punching the wall, especially since he had hurt his hand punching the TARDIS console in "Death in Heaven." They were going to have Peter just fake the punch and get a stunt person for close-ups, but Peter insisted on doing the punches himself because of the importance of the moment for his character. Rachel agreed on the condition that, "If you hurt yourself, you're the one who tells your wife." (He did not hurt himself again.)

- When the Doctor burns themselves and their hand dissolves away to nothing, the hand was sculpted out of Lush bath bombs. Rachel had the idea and suggested it as a cost-effective solution. So they just sculpted Peter's hand out of bath bombs and poured some water on it.

- When the Doctor breaks through the wall and the Veil collapses, the collapse was achieved by filling the Veil costume with helium balloons and then popping them.

#Doctor Who #Heaven Sent #Rachel Talalay #Chicago TARDIS #Peter Capaldi #Steven Moffat #New Who #Twelve #Twelfth Doctor #The Doctor #The Veil #Doctor Who behind the scenes #Dr. Who #Doctor Who cast #Doctor Who conventions #Jenna Coleman #Clara Oswald

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1920sladydectective · 2 months ago

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Christmas Tree Smut - NSFW

I wrote this because my wife bought me all of the Rocklove jewellery Ambessa and Mel collection as a surprise for finishing my uni assignments and then we put up the Christmas tree. So thank her. :D

Not proof read, some pet names and choking but it’s a short drabble so not much.

Ambessa was tall. You were fully aware of this, it had its multitude of uses and attractions. This, though, you had yet to see this year.

There she stood, bundled in furs with a stern eye, surveying the tree.

“I think it’s fine,” You muttered to her left, tipsy smirk on your face.

“Since when has fine been acceptable, Dear? Do you love it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say love,”

“Then it is wrong,” She marched off down the sea of green, analysing as though picking new recruits.

You had been looking for two hours, and she had bought you five glasses of spiked mulled wine. Still she would not pick one. You just wanted to decorate a tree, have too much stollen and then kiss underneath the mistletoe. Instead, she was striking the fear of God into the farm attendant as she looked for her “Perfect” Tree.

From the uncharacteristically loud yell of joy, you hoped she’d found it. You were determined to love it even if it was half dead, just so you could leave. It was, in all fairness to Ambessa, astounding. Ten foot tall, plush and full, it loomed just as she’d wished.

“Will it fit?”

She looked at you like you were an idiot. Of course. Her castle ceilings were insanely high, that’s why you’d come to this farm in the first place.

The farmhand chopped it down, with constant commentary and criticism from Ambessa until you whacked her with your handbag and growled. Poor boy must have been a teenager, and Ambessa was calling him a spineless fool.

Then, in a flash, the magic happened. She picked it up, as though it wasn’t over three feet taller than her, and began to wander off to the soldiers waiting to transport it. You tensed, blindly handing the boy far too much money for the tree as you trailed behind her glamorous, toned form.

Her eyes sparkled as she placed it down, a wry grin on her face, “Something intriguing darling?”

“Don’t tease,” You sighed, gazing happily at her.

The journey back was simple, your wine addled mind floaty and dozing against her shoulder until she kissed you tenderly to wake you.

Once the great, hulking thing was situated, Ambessa began putting the lights on. You were not allowed on the wooden ladder, as if a glass bauble prone to dropping. That was fine with you, you’d just stare at her arse the whole time.

Finally, blissfully, you could decorate the fucking thing. Boxes and boxes of glass ornaments from your marriage and travels were brought into the room by attendants, a large wooden table used to spread them out as you contemplated how you wished to decorate this year.

Humming carols to yourself, you danced around Ambessa placing baubles and standing back to survey. She was only to place them where you said further up, your tone demanding and clear. It made her smirk, your perfectionism. Each year she grew to love it more.

Swiftly, she hugged you from behind and began to nibble your neck as you placed a pair of robins on a lower branch.

“Y-“ A huff, “You’re distracting me,”

“You’re distracting me, Little one,” She purred, nuzzling against your nape, “So commanding, so artistic, how am I supposed to resist such seduction?”

You melted slightly against her, taking in the warm glow of the lights as you tilted your head, offering more of your neck.

Ambessa left large, sharp marks all down your throat and collarbone, relishing in branding you as she wrapped her arm around you and began to tease your nipple.

Your knees buckled, ripping an amused moan from your lips, “You do this every year, you never let me finish the fucking thing,”

She pinches your nipple through your dress, hard enough it hurts, “But I let you finish don’t I? And isn’t that so kind of me? Aren’t you so thankful?”

“Yes,” You slur slightly, going limp in her hold as she tugs whimpers and sighs from you. This was how she liked it, the tree would be half done and she would fuck your under it’s great branches and then allow you to finish it naked with your legs trembling.

This year it seemed she had grown especially impatient, and started the process only a third of the way through. You were powerless to resist though, namely because you didn’t want to.

She lay you on the floor, fluffy blankets and pillows preemptively placed, as her wicked tongue trailed down your body, hands preoccupied with abusing your tits until your eyes rolled. Once she finally touched your molten core, you were already in the blind throes of pleasure, her name echoing for all to hear. She allowed you your wantonness in these moments, body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you.

The sparkling of the tree made your vision blur, pleasure merging with whimsy as you smiled dumbly up through the branches.

“Pretty girl,” Ambessa groaned against you, “Perfect slut,”

She stripped herself of all clothes, spreading your legs wider as she positioned herself between them, brushing her cunt against yours. Rutting against you, she wiped your mind of anything other than your clits rubbing against each other, tongue hanging out as you spluttered and leaked.

Panting, her eyes hazy, she squeezed your neck lightly as you came, squirting all over yourself at the overstimulation. Her orgasm was loud and shameless, wrecking you on her search for pleasure as she lent down and bit your nipple between her teeth.

“I love Christmas,” You giggled nonsensically, smiling at the mistletoe bauble directly above your head.

“As do I, my darling,” She huffed, curling you both into a blanket as you basked in each other.

#ambessa x reader #ambessa medarda #reader insert #arcane #arcane ambessa #ambessa smut #christmas smut

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alotofpockets · 18 days ago

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Fun facts | Grace Clinton x Reader

5k celebration prompt: “Do you ever run out of fun facts?”

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.4k

-----

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. For the past hour you had been debating your outfit, switching between a top every five minutes. But, the knock on your door meant that Grace was here to pick you up for your first date, so the top you were currently wearing had to be the one.

You quickly make your way to the door, not wanting to leave her waiting for too long. When you opened it, Grace’s face lit up. “You look amazing.” You feel your cheeks flushing, already by even such a small compliment. “Thank you, so do you.”

Grace moved into your apartment building a few weeks ago. The thick Liverpool accent had caught your attention instantly when you were making your way downstairs. None of the neighbours that you knew had that accent, so your curiosity was instantly triggered.

What you hadn’t expected to find around the corner was the contents of a moving box scattered over the hallway floor. “A single cardboard box can be reused 5 to 7 times before it starts to break down and lose its strength, yet here I am on my first use with my stuff scattered all across the hall.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the unexpected commentary as you stepped around the corner. “I think you might’ve gotten the one box that has a vendetta against moving. Clearly it wasn’t cut out for this life.”

The girl looked up, startled but amused. “Ah, so it is the box’s fault, is it? Not my fault for not using proper packing rules, and putting more weight in it than you’re supposed to?”

Within ten seconds of meeting this stranger, you already loved her humour. You crouched down to help her pick up the scattered items. “I mean, who am I to argue with a moving box expert?”

She laughed at your joke, the sound of her laughter like music to your ears. Never had you imagined you’d be able to fall for a stranger so quickly. The way she so effortlessly joked around with you, made you want to get to know her better.

“Oh, I’m full of fascinating facts about boxes, and well just random facts in general. Stick around long enough, and you’ll learn loads!” She stood with her hands now filled with her items.

“Well, if this is how you introduce yourself to your new neighbours, I am definitely interested in sticking around for more. I’m y/n, by the way. Your neighbour who now knows more about moving boxes than she ever planned to.”

The girl chuckled. “Grace, the neighbour who might’ve just exposed her weirdest talent way too early.” With a smile and a shake of your head you say, “I think it’s cute.” You noticed the light flush of her cheeks before she quickly turned her face away from you. “What floor are you on? I’ll help carry your stuff up.”

Since that day the two of you have been chatting every day, whether it was face to face or over text, the two of you were connecting. It was instantly clear to the both of you that it wasn’t just a neighbourly or even just friendly connection, and you wanted to explore it more.

So, Grace asked you out on a date and now here she is standing in front of your door. All your nerves faded away as you walked down together, and she started talking.

“Did you know that dates involving outdoor activities create stronger connections?” If you had learned one thing over the past few weeks is that Grace had a fun fact on just about every topic. “I didn’t, but it makes sense if you think about it.”

She agreed, “It’s why I wanted to grab some coffee to go and walk through the park on our way to what I have planned.”

“That sounds lovely, and also very adorable, telling me you want to have a stronger connection with me.” You smiled at her as you walked out of the apartment building.

Grace paid for your coffee, even if you told her that wasn’t fair because she was already paying for the rest of the date. “You can get them next time.”

“Oh, you already know that there will be a next time?” You said with an amused smile. “Around 66% of people say that they know within the first thirty minutes if they’re interested in a second date.”

You chuckled, of course she had a fun fact for that too. “Thirty minutes sounds doable for getting the vibe of a person, but Grace we’ve been out for like five minutes.” She smiles and shrugs, “I already knew before I knocked on your door.”

Gosh she was a smooth talker. “I think I may need the remaining twenty five minutes to decide.” You joked back, and the glint in her eyes was enough to make you cave in. “Fine, you got me. I was already thinking of what I could plan for our next date before you knocked on my door as well.”

You continued on your walk, sipping on your coffee, and talking with Grace. If you had only done this for the duration of the date, you would already have considered it a good date. Grace had more planned though, as she led you into town and you stopped in front of one of the buildings.

“Are we going to make pottery?” You asked as you took in the shop’s window. “Close, but no. We’re painting pottery.” Her smile grew when she saw the excitement on your face.

Once you were inside and you were all settled in at one of the tables, surrounded by a bunch of different pottery dishes, paints and brushes, Grace started speaking excitedly about pottery. “Did you know that pottery is one of the oldest human inventions, with the earliest known pieces dating back over 20,000 years?”

With a shake of your head you say, “Wow, that is so long. Isn’t it cool how some things stick around for so long?” She nodded, “Yeah, I love it.”

You decided on a mug for your first pottery piece, while Grace went for a bowl. You thought for a moment on what you wanted to paint on the mug, deciding on some tulips. After dipping your paint brush into the green paint, you fill the mug with the stems and leaves, leaving room to add the flowers in different colours.

“Did you know in the 17th century, tulips were so valuable in Holland that they were used as a currency?” At this point you weren’t even surprised by Grace’s random knowledge on all topics anymore. “That’s crazy, imagine getting coffee somewhere and just paying with tulips.”

“Yeah, it’s so weird to think about, right? They even named the period Tulip Mania.” With the new knowledge about tulips, you fill the already painted stems with red, orange, and pink tulip flowers.

When you looked over to Grace’s bowl, she had filled the outside with small watermelon pieces, and she was now working on painting the inside of the bowl like the inside of a watermelon.

“Yours looks so cool!” You say in awe. “Thank you! I love it, and yours too. Did you know that watermelons belong to the cucumber family? Technically they are classified as both a fruit and a vegetable!”

“Do you ever run out of fun facts?” You say with a soft chuckle. Amazed at her excitement over the classification of a watermelon.

“Oh, is it too much? I can stop.” She says taken back. You’re quick to reach out your hand and place it over hers. “Please never stop, I love it.” Her smile grew again. “Yeah?” You nod, “It’s so cool that you have all this random knowledge, and I love that you want to share it with me.”

The rest of the date was amazing, and like you had already said at the beginning of the date, a second date was definitely happening, and you couldn’t wait to plan something for her.

-----

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simp-ly-writes · 1 month ago

Text

The Assassin's Wife

─────── · · A 'Day of the Jackal' (TV series) FanFic

Pairing: Charles "Jackal" Calthrop x Wife!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: To put it simply, you are the wife of Charles Calthrop having met him at a work event over a decade ago, your romance was story-book perfection up until when you learned he kills people for a living...

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, fluff and angst, scenes of stalking, blood, violence, injury, guns, and obsessive behaviours, hurt/comfort, arguments, swearing, lying, kissing, the Jackal being a ultra charismatic mf, Marissa (OC), not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,570

─ · · A/N: post number 300! woohoo! soo... I kinda really loved this ask and wrote a whole bunch for it. Be ready for some fluff, angst, and then fluff again!

─────── · ·

─ · · You had been married to your husband, Charles, for well over a decade now. You had met him while attending a work event overseas, your job always had you traveling keeping you from starting any longterm relationships up until you met Charles that faithful night.

─ · · You remember the deep navy blue suit he wore with a light blue dress-shirt underneath. His accessories were silver and by the family signet ring on his finger, you knew him to be coming from wealth and to your surprise as he greeted you with a kiss to the back of your palm, he made his empire himself as he described to you over a few too many glasses at the bar.

─ · · Charles swept you off your feet that night with his lingering looks on your lips, the way he gently held your hand, interlacing your fingers before pulling you outside and to a cab. You remember his touch trailing up your thigh as you gasped at the back of the cab before clearing your throat and placing your head against his shoulder... much like the position you found yourself in currently as you watched your husband sleep, his arm snuggly around your side, head against his bare chest as you traced the various scars across it with curiosity.

Your husband explained to you the multitude of stories on how he obtained each scar and warp of skin as you kissed everyone the same; with love and attention as he had shown you. You simply adored how hard working he was, always away and coming back with that necklace you were eyeing in the market or a surprise vacation. But you couldn't help but miss him, want him with you, and you didn't know if that was selfish of you or not to want him with you constantly when he provided for you with utmost dedication.

─ · · But after so many years of gifts and hugs at the airport as you waved him goodbye. You felt lonely sitting in the parking lot wondering the next time you would see your husband and quite frankly, all of your friends told you he was most likely cheating on you by how often and long he was away without messaging or calling you.

You always waved away their concerns for your wellbeing as you took care of the estate, went to work for a few hours of the day before busying yourself with random hobbies and studying various topics for the off chance Charles would bring it up in conversation during one of his work rants, you liked to call them. Remembering the weight of his head in your lap, the feeling of his soft golden curls running through your fingers as he said every time, without fault, "I'd much rather be here with you, my love." But did he ever fall through with those words? no. But you loved your husband regardless.

─ · · You would always pick him up form the airport when he called the night before, waiting in a sundress with drinks and snacks ready in the car for the long ride back. Charles would place his large hand on your knee as you drove, charming you endlessly with his commentary the whole ride home, "I was beginning to forget just how beautiful you were, had to come back." "What an angel, you are. My guardian angel just meant for me." "You look as raidient as the sun in that dress, my love." "Remind me to kiss you with the same desperation I feel now when we stop."

And like clockwork, you would flush under his loving stare and words before being pulled into bed in an outward display of his love that would leave your legs weak in the morning and him bringing you both up breakfast in bed before presenting you another gift.

You held a tight smile while accepting the gift this time, not wanting to seem ungrateful yet your heart desired the non-material... and it seemed Charles understood this, had been planning something for awhile. You observed the box to be moving and to have... hole in it? You thought to yourself before looking to your husband with shock and confusion as a little bark sounded from inside.

"Charles, darling. You. Did. NOT," you gasp before throwing off the lid as a puppy comes bursting out to your chest, licking your face with gratitude before exploring the bed. Charles picks up the fluffy creature, leading it back to you before sitting near the foot on the bed, massaging your leg gently with a smile, "I know you've been feeling lonely recently and I apologize. I promise that after this next job... I won't have to work as much, this is just the last thing, I promise."

You stare into his eyes for a moment, the puppy wigging in your arms as you pet their head and scratch behind their ears with a subconscious smile growing on your face. "Really?!" you ask excitedly, blinking away tears of hope in your eyes seeing as Charles chuckles softly before you, crawling towards you both and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, catching a kiss on the chin by your new pet as well, "Yes."

─────── · ·

─ · · Charles had actually stayed for longer than you were used to, something about preparing and studying his opponent to strike the best deal. You nodded along, interested but confused on the details of this supposed interaction he had planned as you both walked the dog around the garden property line.

"When we get back, I just have to jot-down the rest of the details before I can join you two for dinner. I picked up your favourite bottle from the market earlier that I was thinking we could share?" You nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek before unclipping your new companion from their leash, watching as they run inside and to their water dish.

Charles's arms wrap around your waist as he presses a kiss to your exposed neck, feeling his smile against your skin, "I love you, darling." You rest your hands atop of his, leaning against his chest and close your eyes, enjoying the warm evenings breeze drifting across both of your forms before taking a deep breath and watching as Charles leaves you and heads to his study.

You get dinner moving, dancing and singing around the kitchen as your puppy runs between your feet, barking cheerfully and trying to dance alongside you. Giggling you pick him up, resting his upper arms on your shoulder as you use them as your partner, spinning and twirling towards the living before placing them in their back in their bed.

Your phone goes off as you rush back to the stove and take the tray out and leave it to cool in front of an open window before cutting the bread. "Smells divine in here," you jump, starting and nicking yourself on the knife, cursing softly as you watch the blood drip from the small cut with a wince before heading towards the sink.

Charles is distraught at the sight of you bleeding, taking quick long strides over to your form, holding your elbow gently as he inspects the small nick, "I'm so sorry," he mumbles a few times between kisses to your face before he moves to get the first-aid kit underneath the skin, patting the counter for you to sit upon as he stands between your legs and dresses the cut.

You smile at how softly he touches you, apologizing as you wince at the solution to cleanse the cut before kissing the bandaged finger afterwards. "I'm quite alright, Charles. Just a minor thing-" you begin to explain yet your husband just shakes his head, annoyed with myself. "I shouldn't have distracted you, got you hurt in the first place, I hate seeing you with this," he holds up your hand in front of both of your faces.

You press your forehead against his own, closing your eyes, "Charles, my love. I would forgive you even if you shot me. No need to worry," You joke in a loving tone- not understanding to the way the Jackal tenses feeling your touch. Visions of your corpse flashing before his eyes with life-like accuracy as he begins to feel queasy, shaking in your hold.

You pull away once feeling him start to breath heavily. His touch falling from your hand to grip the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white as he sees you look up at him with tear-covered eyes, his hand shakes with the trigger- "Charles?" you call out softly, hand hovering over his cheek, feeling as he flinches at the touch, taking a step away while shaking his head to himself before appearing... scarily calm again.

You watch as he smiles, brings up dinner and walks past whatever... episode he seemingly just had as if it had never happened in the first place... a mere fragment of your imagination. You furrowed your brows, jumping down from the kitchen counter before filling up both your plates and following Charles out to the patio where a table set with candles was prepared for you both.

Your heart tremors in your chest, watching as he pulls out a chair for you before pushing you in and seating himself. Pouring glasses of wine for you both with a cheers you gulp down the liquid quickly before gently placing the glass back down on the table and taking a bite of your food, debating weather or not to bring up what had just happened or not.

You ultimately decide not too, enjoying this moment that has been few and far between in recent months as your husband charms you like the first day you met, with coy smiles and charming words that have you falling into his arms and back into bed where you rest upon his chest, listening to his heart beating for you once more.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your friends call you in the morning as you invite them over before telling Charles, you rush towards his office in case he is still undressed for they all would be coming shortly to use the pool.

Knocking at the door, his voice invites you in to see the puppy in his lap as Charles fixes his glasses, looking up from the documents scattered across his desk to you with a loving smile and crinkled eyes, "good morning my love, I'm sorry I was not there to wake you."

You wave a hand on his face walking over and pulling him in for a kiss before looking over the papers and blueprints curiously, hand hovering over the smear of red ink against the corner of a crumpled page before Charles' voice redirects your attention with a hand to your hip, giving a gently squeeze, "was there something you wanted to say?"

"Oh, yes!" you jump back to your previous thoughts watching as he turns away from the desk, the dog jumping off his lap and running down the hall leaving the seat empty. You stare for a moment debating, knowing that if you sit down you might not be ready in time. The Jackal did not care about what you were thinking in the moment though, simply gabbing you by your waist and allowing you to fall into his lap.

"Marissa and my other friends are coming over shortly to use the pool, I just thought to let you know beforehand so you could get ready as well," you explain, playing with the buttons to his creme linen shirt listening to him hum. "I'm afraid that I still have-" you look at him with pleading eyes, hand brushing against the skin of his chest and trailing down, watching as the words die on his lips, "...alright. I'll be there shortly."

You quickly stand back up with a smile, cheering happily listening to him laugh before rushing back to your wardrobe to pick a swimsuit and throw-over for the occasion.

─────── · ·

─ · · A knock sounds at the door that has you nearly falling down the stairs and rushing to hug your guests. Marissa squeals in your ear, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you both swing side to side. She presents you a bottle of wine and a platter of fresh fruits which you bring out to the deck, showing your guests to where the fridge and restrooms were.

─ · · You feel overjoyed having the house filled and to see the dog running around and jumping after their toys in the pool. You lean back in a lounge, soaking up the sun before a shadow overtakes the warmth. You peel up your sunglasses, as Marissa tits her head to the side, mouthing, follow me. You raise a brow in question but follow her nevertheless into the pool house in which she quickly closes the door and shuts the blinds on both of you.

"Marissa?" you call out her name, squinting through the darkness before flicking on the light," Is everything alright?" you ask again watching as her smile wavers, hands shaking as she moves to grip your own. "I think it's best for you to sit before I say anything..." her thumbs brush against the back of your hands soothingly, your heart races- debating of weather or not to quickly grab Charles for whatever news you were about to be it with.

Seemingly knowing your thoughts, Marissa shakes her head, taking a seat beside you on a stack of spare cushions for your outdoor furniture. "This is about Charles," she explains- you debate weather or not to roll your eyes. "Of course it is. What news do we have this time?" you ask, feeling irritated as you side your hands away from her touch. She looks at you for a moment before sighing, "I know you feel as though I am in the wrong for calling out your relationship and maybe I am, maybe I'm not but I only want you to be safe and happy... you're my best friend, hun and I don't want to see you get hurt."

You nod smiling, "same goes to you-"

"Yes," Marissa cuts you off, playing with her hair, "thats why I'm telling you that your husband isn't who you think he is." She bites her lip, waiting on your reaction. You lean your head forwards, "go on?" wanting to indulge in another one of her 'stories.' She cuts right to the chase.

"He kills people." You gasp, standing up and shaking your finger, "No, NO, Marissa! That is too far this time!" you stomp your way towards the door, shoulders rising upwards and tight, I can't believe she has the audacity to say such a thing. "PLEASE," Marissa runs up, gripping your arm, nearly on her knees begging, "let me explain... I-I have evidence." Your heat drops at her sincerity, the way her large tearful eyes grip your own, forcing you to take a seat again as she pulls open her phone- your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

You look at the various articles she has saved to her camera roll, the dates of the murders lining up with the most recent trips of your husband. "This could only be a coincidence right?" Marissa does not say a word, simply flipping her phone horizontally and pressing play to a news broadcast recording:

"Witnesses have identified the assassin to be a 6ft male with an athletic build. Crime investigators have released the following identikit based upon multiple accounts and ask that if you have any information on where the killer is or where they plan on going to contact local and world police immediately for the safety of the greater public."

You feel sick, head falling between your knees as you shake and cry, knowing that illustration to be hauntingly similar to the love of your life... or so you thought him to be.

Marissa rubs your back in soothing circling motions before looking towards the door and whispering her next words to you carefully, "Please, come with me tonight. Say that something happened with my family and that I need your support. We'll pack and bag and get you out," you nod along, lost in your thoughts and not quite catching her words- ears ringing from overstimulation, the clothes on your body soon feel to hot as you grip your skin in panic.

"I-I he wouldn't lie to me this way... he said he-he loved me?" you hiccup in between cries, now walking around in circles within the small space- wavering on the line of hysteria. "I have to go talk to him, this is a misunderstanding, they have the wrong accounts, they, they..." you shake your head, trying to clear your mind to no avail.

Marissa stands, gripping your shoulders, shaking you, begging you to listen to her, "Please, stay with me for tonight at least. I don't feel safe leaving you here with him, not with what we both know... he could kill us if he knows... we know..." You fall over, back into the cushions, your head feeling to heavy for your body as your spots of black start to cloud over your vision. "M-Marissa?" you beg for what you don't know as she hugs you, begging you to stand and move with her.

"Please, we have to go now. Stop the tears, we must leave-"

"I-I can't!" you shout before watching as her eyes widen, the sounds of the other guests dying down from your outburst. A knock sounds at the door, your heart drops... you both allow a moment to pass before another knock sounds, more rushed and heavy against the wood, "my love? are you alright in there?"

Charles. You and Marissa both share a look, you swallow deeply- clearing your throat, "I'm alright Charles, just an wardrobe malfunction." You hear as your... husband chuckles, "alright, I have a plate of food waiting for you by the pool."

"Thank you, darling!" you shout back before hearing as his footsteps become distant. You let out a breath you didn't know to be holding as Marissa pulls you up, wiping your face with her towel, determination in her eyes. "We. are. leaving." You nod, not trusting your words as you follow her outside, wincing at the light coming into your eyes and heart.

─────── · ·

─ · · You walk swiftly pass the crowd and upstairs, throwing the closet open to find a duffle bag as you begin to pack a weeks worth of clothes. You stop yourself from grabbing one of Charles shirts to sleep in, your fingers twitching as your heartaches, you bite your lip to conceal a cry as your eyes well before turning towards the ensuite bathroom.

You startle bumping into a chest as arms steady you, hand brushing against your cheek as Charles stares down at you- worry clouding over his eyes as he takes in the sight of your tears. "Whats wrong?" he asks quietly, brushing your hair as you shake in his hold... knowing what those hands have done. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax in the memory of his touch before pulling away and heading towards the bathroom.

Charles stands there still where you left him, glaring at his reflection in the mirror of the closet before turning around determined to find out whatever or whomever made his darling wife cry. He leans against the doorframe watching as you grab a hairbrush and a few hair ties before brushing past him and throwing them into your luggage- hands shaking as you zip it closed and place it over your shoulder.

But just before you can reach the door, Charles picks you up in his arms, you scream, and places you on the bed- standing at the foot with his arms crossed. "Running away from our issues only prolongs them. What. is. wrong?" he asks, muscles flexing as he forces himself not to physically comfort you seeing as you flinch from every slight sound you hear. Who scared you? What do I need to do in order to protect you? The Jackal thinks to himself, foot tapping in wait.

You sound out the party happening down stairs, focusing solemnly on your breathing, "I-I have to help Marissa with somethings. Her family, things went badly and she needs me?" you try and lie yet your words appear more like a question.

Your husband sighs, head tilting to the side as he analyzes your form, eye twitching... no, she couldn't know that. I've hid it well and no one else would know in the slightest... You watch every small expression tick over his features, shifting in your spot watching as he does the same, mirroring your movements- you feel trapped knowing that Charles was not going to let you leave... not without the truth nevertheless.

You look outside, hoping to catch Marissa's eyes to come and save you yet can see no sights of her. Your bag drops to your feet as you grip your hair, Am I ready to die? You ask yourself, thoughts automatically going to the darkest parts of your mind before you suddenly remember your conversation last night in the kitchen...

─────── · ·

Shit, you think to yourself... his prior actions all making sense now. You timidly look into his eyes, purposefully trying to make yourself appear small... make him feel the heart you have loved ever-so dearly up until this point, and to some degree, you still do for the years of affections you both have shared.

"Tell me what you know," The Jackal asks calmly, your blood runs cold as he stares down at you, nose twitching, eyes daring you to try and lie again to him.

You open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say before letting lose knowing that you were not making it out of this room no matter what so you might as well do it with morals and truth. "I know you kill people," you begin to say.

The room is dead silent as you both stare into one another's eyes, "Tell me that you don't," you whisper, tears silently falling down your cheeks that you do your best to try and blink away resulting in only more coming. Yet in your husbands move not to answer you provides you with the most deafening answer yet... he does.

You shake your head, nails digging into your palms, threatening to break skin. You flinch again to his touch, feeling as the Jackal gently pulls your fingers away from hurting yourself- your heart hammers in your chest like a drum, you know he can hear it to by the way his head falls. "Tell me that you don't," you whisper-shot, shaking your head, confused as to how the soft and intelligent man you fell in love with, that you married and planed to have children with... kills people.

"I kill people for money," the Jackal whispers quietly, a part of hoping that you do not hear his words, that you would return to your smiling and loving self, taking him back with open arms- unknowing once more yet you understand what he says, "Listen to yourself and say it again," you demand of him.

The Jackal removes his touch, taking in a shaky deep breath, closing his eyes as his hands shake down by his sides into fists, you slowly crawl back on the bed, "I kill people for money," he says a bit louder. You scoff into a cry, "say it again."

"I kill people for money," the Jackal states picking up his head to look you in the eyes, his heart breaks seeing your tears, watching as you flinching when he moves to brush them away. You'e afraid of me, Charles thinks to himself. I've failed to protect you, the Jackal thinks to himself. You are shaking in your spot, "say it again, say it-"

"I KILL PEOPLE FOR MONEY. Is that what you want to hear? Is that enough? Is it enough?" The Jackal snaps at you before falling to his knees, head in your lap as an offering. You feel the way he grips your sides, sobbing into your skirt, pleading for you to love him. Yet you just stare forwards, looking out to the sun and all the people downstairs, your eyes catch Marissa's as you stand, his body rolling off of yours as he stays collapsed against the floor watching as you slowly pick up your bag and close the door on him.

─────── · ·

─ · · You felt disgusted for not being able to go to the police about your husband... or well ex-husband. You sent the divorce papers in at Marissas request after your first month out on the run from your heart but no matter where you seemed to go, what disguises or excuses you used when he would just find your new phone number again, you still loved him.

─ · · A part of you knew deep within that not every moment you shared together could be a lie. He trusted you to sleep beside him, to cook for him, to be his confidant to his "work rants," and spent his pay check on you... but he kills people... you think to yourself, 'only the bad people, promise,' you remember him telling you via letter to your mailbox during your first week in Australia where Marissa left you before returning back to Spain. You shake your head, confused with yourself; head and heart competing...

But when you saw golden locks out of the corner of your eye, green-eyes hidden behind tinted shades and tall muscular body draped in a fine linen suit... it would be an understatement to say you folded in the first seconds and fell back in love in the first moment when he picked up your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it and refused to let go, intertwining your fingers together on the table as he payed for lunch and all your drinks without a second thought.

And when it started to rain in Amsterdam where you were currently "hiding out," he draped his jacket over your shoulders and picked you up so that your feet wouldn't get wet in all the puddles and potholes. Carrying you all the back to the apartment you were renting, waiting at the door for you to invite him inside and you did.

─ · · You watched as he unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves to his forearms, veins flexing across his skin as he clenched and unclenched his hands when you moved past him to sit distantly on the couch. He thought about the comforting pressure of you on his lap, the feeling of your head on your shoulder and your lips against his own. He wanted nothing more than to feel your skin against his skin, to get a taste of you once more... but he allowed you space, for now... until things are safe... until the job is done, Charles thought to himself, taking a sip out of the tea you prepared for you both.

─ · · After some catching up on both of your sides, your concern grew not only for yourself and your safety, but for your husbands as he was being pinned down on two fronts. One by the police, the other by his target and his men... a part of you knew that your safety did relay on the Jackal getting his work done and knew that from you not going to the police right away, not protecting the 'public', you were in some part just as guilty as he- a participant... "let me help you.... please." And the Jackal nodded.

─────── · ·

─ · · Returning to Spain, the Jackal gave you a series of instructions and lists of where secret rooms, weapons, and security lockdown procedures he had installed for a moment that you had no clue existed before and never would have.

─ · · You shiver at how precisely Charles can check the various weapons on himself, flipping knives in his boots, checking his magazines and checking the sights down the barrel of his gun before giving you a kiss and telling you to go sit in the bedroom upstairs with the dog, waiting to flip a switch in the wardrobe at his request to cut all the power to the house through your earpiece.

You nodded, pulling him in for a second kiss, lingering before pulling away slightly and kissing all the way across his cheek to his ear, whispering, "live for me." You didn't receive a response, only a pat at your hit, silently demanding you to move as you pick up your furry companion and closed the bedroom door, putting on a record just like intersected... sitting still and looking pretty and innocent, just waiting on your husband to return.

─────── · ·

─ · · You didn't bother to look at the clock, watching as the minutes ticked over and the dog laid asleep at the foot of the bed. Your fingers running across the soft fur of their back only to startle as you hear your front door be blasted through and two pairs of boots stomp their way into your home. Your breath hitches as you quickly stand and look at the window seeing no addition people in the tree line.

You double check to ensure your door is closed before pressing down on your ear, listening closely for your queue... "Do you hear me darling?" Charle's soft tone floods your ear, you can hear him taking shallow long breaths in and out, most likely hiding somewhere in the walls. "yes," you whisper, starting to make your way into the closet- waiting... "flick the switch, gorgeous." Lights out!

─ · · You are suddenly surrounded in darkness as you tip toe your way back to the bed and place yourself on top of the covers, scrolling through your phone once hearing their boots near the door. The dog shuffles by your feet but does not move as the door creaks open and two flashlights are shined in your eyes, causing you both to stand alert. "HANDS UP!" a woman shouts, you wave your hands in the air. "P-please don't hurt me! Take whatever you want from the house!" you beg, tears starting to drown across your cheeks as you work to distract the women. "Please!" you beg over and over again dramatically, falling to your knees as your hands press against her boots.

"I'm here to protect you ma'am, just do as I say and we will have no issues," the woman in uniform tells you- you nod your head. "Stand," she demands and you oblige, rising to your feet and grabbing your pet in your arms. "Do you have any idea what your husband does?" she questions you, moving you both towards Charle's study and telling you to sit at his desk. You nod your head, hearing as her breath hitches, "he works in global sales for an insurance company," you explain.

"I can show you the new logos?" you ask confusing the woman. "No, I don't care about that... you are married to Charles Calthrop, correct?" You nod your head again, "Yes, that is my husband." The floor suddenly creaks down the hall, the woman turns around sharply, flashlight pointing down the hall as you hide underneath the desk in preparation yet hear no rounds fired.

Looking up slowly, the room and the hall now appear empty as you listen to boots run down the hall and turn down the stairs into the living room. "Stay where you are," Charles demand comes through your ear, "okay," you whisper, holding onto the dog closely as you brace, listening to the distant conversation and then... BANG... a pause... BANG BANG. Another two shots sound and then... silence once more.

"Good girl, you did your work perfectly, my love," Charles praises you before telling you to come downstairs with the luggage for you both. You feel as your husband quickly pulls you in for a hug, caressing your head in an effort for you not to see the body behind him. You feel as he kisses the top of your head, "All ready to go?" he asks you.

"I'm ready," you respond with determination.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: no part 2's to this one!

─ · · JACKAL TAGLIST: @swiftietevitdrewjew @groovyponypatrollamp @alelo23 @apaperflowerreader @itz-stuts

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