#we’re not even in the dead of winter yet

[tvslashers]

i have been called off of work today bc it’s too cold. the time of year of wallet pain is upon me

[sscieloz]

Live my life

band!aespa x groupie!reader

Synopsis: It’s been less than a year since the band Aespa was created. Karina, Minjeong, Giselle and Ningning travel all over the country with nothing but a few gigs, little money and much love for the music. They’re far from superstars, and they still don’t have a lot to offer, and there’s something they can’t quite grasp: why you, the band’s most faithful fan, follows them blindly.

Warnings: smut. lowk confusing… but it’s the aesthetic

Word count: 9.9k

Notes: I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE DEAD 😤😤 I was obsessed w the MV as soon as it was out so I wrote this work!! it ended up being too long (lol) so i decided to split it in 2. I SHALL NAWT VANISH ANYMORE PINKY PROMISE.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4

—

“Do you think it’ll fit?” Ningning’s hesitation is easily explained by the amount of suitcases hanging from the small hood of the car. The four girls agreed to bring each a single backpack of clothes for themselves, so the instruments and sound equipment could also be transported.

Clearly, it was still too much.

“It has to.” Winter answers, her tiny frame reaching up as she tries to grab one of the big suitcases herself. With Ningning’s help, she manages to do it, and they both stare at the car, wondering about an adjustment that would work.

Just as both girls imagined how to rearrange the space, Giselle and Karina stepped down the house's stairs, frowning.

Karina, is, as always, not amused by the struggle placed in front of her, but Giselle scoffs, judging her bandmates for not having things ready yet. They were supposed to pack their stuff in the car while she and Karina prepared their snacks and made sure all the windows and doors were closed, so they’d find no surprises once they got back home from their trip. Now, they’d leave later than expected, which would result in them facing the road at night— which was exactly what they were avoiding.

This day was starting to piss her off.

“What are you doing?” Giselle crossed her arms against her chest, trying her best to not sound as irritated as she was. They all knew, though. The girls know each other too well.

“Playing Tetris.” Minjeong stared back at her, with a tone that was just as presumptuous. “What does it look like we’re doing, Gigi? The space is obviously too fucking small for all of our stuff.”

Karina takes a step further before Giselle is able to open her mouth and give her friend a petty response. Her clumsy hands rearranged the suitcases so fast the three girls barely registered her actions, closing the hood of the car in a quick motion so everything wouldn’t fall off.

“Mhm, you won’t be able to see much of what’s behind the car, Gigi, but I don’t think it can get any better than that.”

The girls simply stare, impressed by Karina’s skills.

“So… problem solved?” Ningning asks, and they all nod.

Without a word, the four girls enter the small car, squeezing themselves as they prepare for their small trip. It wasn’t uncommon for the band to spend hours stuck in Giselle’s stepfather’s old 2000 Civic, but the lack of space was always annoying, making them all feel packed in like sardines. However, the vehicle was the only option they had to make their way to nearby cities to perform, so they avoided making any complaints.

The band was just about an hour into their 4-hour drive when Giselle pulled over, cursing under her breath.

“Fuck.” She mutters, biting her nails as she looks at the line of cars being stopped by the police, just a few miles ahead. Her face was even paler than usual, which set the girls on alert mode immediately— out of the four of them, Giselle was the least likely to panic at any unusual situation.

As soon as her body tensed, the Uchinaga felt long, lithe hands on her neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to soothe her, filling her with reassurance. Karina’s, naturally. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Yeah, why did we stop?” Ningning adds to Karina’s question, just as curious.

Minjeong’s brows furrow and she adjusts her posture, trying to stare at the horizon in the same position Giselle was, from the passenger’s seat instead. As always, she’s quick to understand the situation. “They’re stopping the cars ahead, but it’s just their normal procedure. They’ll stop us, of course, since we’re young girls traveling by ourselves with a bunch of luggage, but we’ve got nothing to hide, so… keep going, unnie. It’s fine.”

Seconds went by before Giselle grunted, a tense atmosphere hanging in the air while she fidgeted her fingers. Only then, her answer came, barely in a murmur. “I don’t have a license.” She could only hope they hadn’t heard her.

Judging from the way her bandmates’ mouths opened in shock they all started to speak together, though, they did.

Such a selective hearing, huh. She always had to yell at them at least three times for someone to get up from the living room and do the dishes, whenever they were home.

“What the fuck, unnie?”

“Do you really drive us illegally? Girl, we go everywhere by car!”

“I can’t believe you’re so damn irresponsible, I fucking swe—“

Karina stops their banter by out-screaming the two younger girls, a few minutes after Giselle had shrieked down on her seat so much she could merge with it anytime. “Wait! Wait.” Three pairs of eyes stare at her, inquiring. The quietness was odd, but it didn’t last much anyway. “I thought you had your permit taken last month?”

It’s Giselle’s turn to roll her eyes, then. “I literally told you that I failed. Do you pay attention to anything I say?”

Despite the situation they found themselves in, Minjeong and Ningning couldn’t help but giggle. It wasn’t news that Karina’s got her head up in the clouds, but her innocence was always funny to the girls. Despite being the oldest, she’s just a big puppy, after all.

And she looks outraged, ears red from the thought of being fooled by Aeri.

“What? we even celebrated!” Her face comes to the realization, as Minjeong tries to hide her laughter with a fake coughing fit. Winter’s blonde hair blows effortlessly when she turns her head to the window, in an obvious attempt to escape Giselle’s piercing stare. “Oh! Was that why you were being such a jerk the entire night, at the club?”

Giselle ruffles her hair in frustration but nods anyway. “Yes, that was the reason. Thanks for reminding us of that wonderful day, Jiminnie.”

Ningning taps on Karina’s shoulder, in hopes of offering some comfort to the desolated girl. She whistles, then looks from Aeri to Minjeong as if hoping they’d pull a permit out of nowhere and start driving again. Once it’s clear none of them would provide any solution, she does so herself, lifting her hips to grab her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll call Y/n.” Is all she says, clicking on the red number with 13 missed calls on the screen. “She’ll do something about it.”

Karina’s even more outraged, then, staring at Ningning in disbelief. She tries to reach out for her friend’s phone, but the maknae pulls her hand away with a huff. “Why do you even have her number, anyway?”

Sure, you’d be at their presentation, even if it were at a nearby town, hours away from where they lived. Somehow, you always show up. The girls couldn’t even remember when it happened; all they know is that they played at Ningning’s cousin’s club once, and from then on there you were, accompanying them in every step. You took pictures, edited videos to upload on their YouTube channel, and even helped them get some gigs every once in a while. It’s difficult for the girls to understand the reason you spend so much time and effort with them— a broke, nugu band who’s been doing this for a little over a year, yet there you were. Their first and most faithful fan, ready to drop everything to help them with any situation, at any given time.

Just like now.

Nonetheless, they had agreed to keep you at an arm's distance, only so the lines wouldn’t get too blurry. With time, they got to know you better, and it was noticeable you were as spoiled, obsessive, and explosive as you were sweet and passionate about the things you liked.

Truth be told, you scared them a little.

“I thought we had agreed on not talking to the psycho anymore,” Minjeong commented, resting her head on the window.

Ningning pauses at that, muting herself on the phone for a moment before answering, straightforwardly. “Well, do you want to get there or not?”

Her honesty is harsh enough that Minjeong lifts her palms in surrender, while Karina and Giselle share a knowing look. Ning’s right, naturally —what matters is that they get to the club on time.

“Fine,” The blonde sighs, turning to point at Karina. “But you’ll have to handle that nightmare of a weirdo. Don’t let her freak out or anything, like she did last time.”

“Why do I always have to do it?” Karina pouts, rolling her eyes. “Come on! What the fuck.”

Giselle giggles, grateful that Karina can’t reach out to punch her as she nods. “I agree… it’s a leader’s duty.”

With her brows furrowed and her rosy lips, the oldest member of the band looks much like a doll, adorable in all of her mannerisms. Even when she scoffs, it doesn’t come out nearly as rude and intimidating as she intends it to be. She still looks like a painting, so pretty Ningning pokes her playfully, brushing the irritation out of Karina with her ticklish fingers. Once she’s left ticklish in her seat, Ningning drops her phone, done with her call.

“Y/n said she’ll be here soon.” She announces, and the girls hum faintly in response. It’s enough for her to giggle, reaching out for her bag in hopes of finding a snack. “Don’t be too excited, damn...”

“I just hope she doesn’t take long,” Giselle mutters, ignoring the glares she gets by being to blame for their current situation.

“Well, if someone had just passed their driving test, we wouldn’t—”

The Uchinaga turns to Winter so fast her neck makes a weird noise. “Shut the fuck up, Minjeong.” Her tone is full of mockery, which is dangerous. Giselle gets irritated easily, but it’s hard to get her mad. Whenever she does, though… None of the girls like that. “I don’t see you driving around either.”

Minjeong, who’d rather die than recognize she doesn’t excel at something, puts a hand on her chest with the comment. Her face is quickly filled with red and, in a minute, she’s defending herself as if she’s just received a 5-year sentence.

As much as their banter is entertaining, Ningning still clings onto Karina on the backseat, resting her head on her unnie’s shoulders.

“I do hope Y/n arrives soon.” She tells her friend, closing her eyes despite the noisy background.

Karina smiles, ruffling the maknae’s hair with tenderness as she relaxes beside the oldest. “Don’t worry, Ning. She will.”

If there’s something she’s sure of, is that you don’t play when it comes to their band. Be it for good or for worse.

—

“Hello, cuties.” You say, tapping your knuckles on the driver’s window to gather attention. It works: the girls all jump in their seats, cursing under their breaths as they try to gather themselves from the scare. “Your knight in shining armor has come! Hurry, hurry! You’re running late.”

It had been less than an hour since Ningning’s call, so there’s no way you could’ve reached them so quickly. None of them say those words out loud, of course— some questions are better left unanswered.

“Here comes the devil.” Minjeong mumbles. The smile she gives you is drenched in feigned politeness, yet yours is sincere, bluntly ignoring her grumpiness with a wave of your hand.

“Hi, Y/n.” Karina greets you as the four girls get out of the car. You hug each one of them energetically, clearly pleased to be urged to help.

It doesn’t even bother you that Giselle, Winter, and Ningning only mumble, not paying you much attention. If only, your happiness would take long to wear off.

Still swooning, you gesture to the van that’s parked beside their car where a handsome, baby-faced boy waves at the girls with ease.

“My brother won this van at a bet a few days ago, and fortunately, he lent it to us. It’s more fitting for a band anyway.” You gesture at their car, still explaining. “Gyu can take your stepdad’s car back to your house, Gigi. Don’t worry.”

They already know Beomgyu from the previous times he’s dropped you off at their rehearsals and shows, so it’s nothing new. Although Giselle doesn’t seem convinced about your idea, she reluctantly gives him the car keys anyway. There’s no other option; she can’t just leave the car on the road, even though giving it to a stranger makes her uneasy.

“Thank you, Beomgyu-ssi.” The girls bow at him, thankful for the extra space, to which he simply nods.

The girls are quick to transport the suitcases to the van, stretching their legs out as they sigh with contentment. It’s like they can finally breathe, now that they’re not cramped in a tiny space. Even Minjeong is smiling, her little banter with Giselle being long forgotten by now.

Giselle is in the passenger’s seat, this time, and she’s surprised to see how easy it is to talk to a happy Y/n. You laugh and gossip over other bands the girls come across sometimes, and you tell them the entire story of how Beomgyu actually got the van. Time flies by while you’re on the wheel, and soon enough the four girls find themselves at the back door of the club, fixing their instruments for the time they go on stage.

—

“Do you get all those insane takes with this old-ass camera?” Ning asks curiously, holding the straightener against her hair as she watches you record Winter, who’s busy tuning her bass and pretending you don’t exist.

“It’s vintage, unnie.” You correct her, zooming in on the blonde girl’s delicate hands and her precise movements against the cords. “It has amazing quality, still.” Because Ningning is still staring, clearly waiting for a more direct answer, you add, “Yes. Pretty Much. Hey Minjeongie, look at the camera so I can get a better shot of you.”

All Winter gives you is an irritated look as she scrunches her nose and shakes her head. The girls enjoy arriving early at their events so they’re able to gather a few minutes of quietude, strictly to relax and focus on not letting the nerves overcome their abilities to shine on stage. You know that— it’s something you’ve seen them do countless times before. You find it adorable how they’d just close their eyes and try to control their breaths, fingers tapping their thighs to ease the anxiety that always comes with the wait of going on stage. No matter how many times they perform, the thrill will always be the same.

Although you don’t mind interrupting Winter’s time of focusing at all. Seeing you won’t give in, Winter scoffs, dropping the bass onto her lap. “Be polite, Y/n. Say please.”

Her intentions are as obvious as daylight. She’s mocking you, defiant like the insufferable being she is. Out of the four girls, Minjeong is the most stubborn, and you’re much alike. She was the one you got into most arguments with, none of you backing down from the opportunity of being right.

Said banter is the reason you turn and adjust the camera focus to Ningning, instead of giving in to the blonde girl. Yizhuo looks pretty as always, smiling at you as you kneel to get a take of her from a better angle.

You’re immediately interrupted by the same girl who was irritated by your presence just seconds ago. In a blink, Winter’s hands go to your chin, forcing you to face her with an assertive grip. “No. Film me.” Her porcelain skin shines against her dark eyes, who pop out even more, making her intimidating aura stand out in the small room as she adds with an icy, commanding tone, “And have manners.”

God, you’d gladly take her down just to get rid of that cocky tone.

“Stare at the fucking camera so you can have some decent solo shots, Winter unnie.” Your reply comes immediately, tone dripping with venom, “Please.”

Winter’s face is so red you’re afraid she’s going to combust at any second. She never spares hurtful words during arguments, and you’re ready for her to give it all. Disaster is set to happen until Giselle pops her head backstage, looking for you. Her eyes disappear and her cheeks flare up as soon as she meets your face, breaking the tension with a smile once her presence unintentionally ends the small battle you were having with Winter.

“Y/n!” She calls, handing out her hand to help you stand up. “Could you come help us with the drums, please? The guys from the bar are trying, but they’re so damn useless… We need you.”

You look away and Winter’s grip on you fades, although her trimmed nails still scratch your jaw as she lets her hand fall to her sides and returns to the couch, tuning her bass as if she had never been interrupted.

“Sure, Gigi. Let’s go.” It’s impossible to not smile back, allowing yourself to be guided through the narrow stairs of the place until you arrive at the stage. You don’t bother saying goodbye to either Ningning or Winter, knowing you’re going back to them as soon as you’re done.

The two younger girls are left by themselves, in silence for the first time since you arrived to pick them up, hours ago. It’s unsettling yet peaceful; not uncomfortable by any means. They’ve known each other for too long by now, so being with each other is more than natural— it’s one’s absence that is unsettling.

After giving her hair a few finishing touches, Ningning turns to her bandmate, pulling the chair beside her as she gestures for Minjeong to sit. Its leather cover is torn and the comfort is long gone, but they don’t mind. They’ve performed in far more awful places anyway.

“Okay, I’m done! Be still while I do your makeup, now, unnie.” Minjeong does as told, closing her eyes while the maknae starts moisturizing her skin.

The silence has Winter’s mind replaying the previous banter nonstop. She tries to stay silent, but the memory of your petty smirk is enough to leave her fuming, pumping with rage.

“Can you believe her, Ning? That fucking bitch, ugh. She’s so insufferable.”

“Oh, definitely.” Ningning smiles, thankful Minjeong has her eyes closed. She lets out a small giggle, still focused on brushing the concealer through her friend’s face. “God forbid someone puts you in your place, right unnie?”

She nearly doesn’t escape the highlighter Minjeong throws in her direction, now laughing freely as she continues with her task.

—

Aespa is a band of many talents.

The girls all met during sophomore year of high school, all trapped in detention for the day (as much as Minjeong would rather die than admit she’s ever gotten detention in her life). Even though they differ in personalities, in a clear contrast of cultures, manners, and experiences — their differences somehow added to each other until there wasn’t something missing anymore. The feeling of longing and loneliness that had accompanied them for so many years had finally ceased. After that, the girls found themselves at peace: the world was finally silent, as long as they were together. No matter how chaotic it was, Karina, Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning knew they’d like nothing else but to be together.

Luckily, they all shared two main passions: the love for music and the desire for attention, so being in a band together was something that happened rather naturally. The members all agreed, then, that Karina should be the leader. She was soft-spoken, calm, and had the experience in the industry the others lacked, from being a child model. It was the right decision: the oldest would do anything to protect her girls, and knew just the right people to ask for opportunities. They weren’t famous, nor did they make enough money to live off exclusively from the music, but it was enough, for now.

They had trouble understanding you, though. It was hard to grasp why on earth would they have someone so faithful, so committed to following their every move when they weren’t even famous? They didn’t have money, influence, or anything to offer you whatsoever. Yet you were always there, giving them your endless support without asking for anything in exchange. You could be a handful sometimes, sure, but still… your commitment was something that left the girls constantly wondering.

Because you’re special. The world will see this too, someday. is what you’d always answer, followed by a giggle and a wave of your hand, muttering about how it all wasn’t that big of a deal.

But as Giselle watches you help them relocate their instruments and set the tripods and cameras straight, she wonders if that’s truly it.

“Hey, Gigi.” You smile at her, looking down at the ground once you realize you’re the object of her piercing, focused gaze. “Are you and the other girls ready to go? Everything’s in order here.”

Now isn’t the time for that, though, Aeri reminds herself. As of now, the only thing she should focus on is her upcoming stage. Music is one of the many things she was strict with: she pushed herself to nothing but perfection, no matter where she was performing.

The other girls are quick to follow your call, grabbing their instruments and getting into their starter positions as they’ve done countless times before. They all adjust their mics to the perfect height until Karina is the only one left in the center, tapping hers to make sure she sounds loud and clear. Ningning’s hands fiddle with her drumsticks nervously, paddling along with her whole body— surely from the energy drinks she’s had minutes before, while Minjeong and Giselle stay each on one side of the stage, waiting for their leader’s cue.

Offering free tickets for those who arrived before 11 PM was a great strategy that many clubs implemented to fill up their spaces. And even though you’re well aware the girls are known enough to gather such a crowd without that stunt, you’re glad to have a full house staring at the small stage with expectation.

Karina waits until you’re done with your camera’s finishing touches up to speak, her voice echoing through the noise so easily that your hands stop adjusting the device’s focus to pay attention to her. With a smile so big her eyes grow small, her face is like a beacon, gathering all the focus to herself without the need for a spotlight.

“Goodnight! I’m Karina, and those are my bandmates: Minjeong, Giselle, and Ningning.” She points to each of her friends, who bow and wave excitedly, still waiting for her cue. “And we’re AESPA! We hope you like our music, we’ve worked hard on our songs! Please enjoy.”

With that, Ningning taps on her drumsticks, as they’ve done countless times before. Minjeong’s bass and Giselle’s guitar sync with Karina’s voice as soon as they start playing, the melody echoing through the place like physical particles. Music is more than just a part of their lives: it’s who they are, how they express themselves, what they breathe, and it’s easy to forget they’re at a shitty pub and not at a fancy festival. As long as their voices and instruments are harmonizing together, the girls get lost in their passion and nothing else matters.

Even though they’re a new group— barely a year into the industry, original songs are not something that lack from their setlist. The public is screaming, the girls are jumping as they sing and dance along the rhythm and you try your best to capture their best angles, but the distraction in the form of a sin that is Karina prevents you from doing a good job. Her dark eyes glow in the dark, giving her an angelic aura as her strong voice reverberates through the place with ease, despite her shitty mic. It’s an impressive crowd they’re performing for, but she’s only staring at you. Preventing you to breathe or even move, afraid she’d lose her interest and look elsewhere.

No, you’d have none of that. Like all the girls, Karina was yours: you’d share her utter attention with no one.

So you stay at the front line, with your hands holding onto the camera as your head is held up in a frozen frame, looking at her.

You’d always look at her.

—

The afterparties are always one of the girls’ favorite events. The adrenaline rush is still present, giving them tons of energy to drink and party with strangers. They are constantly showered with compliments, being pampered, and indulged with all the attention they crave. It’s part of the reasons why they deal with music, obviously: Minjeong, Giselle, Ningning, and Karina. Because the desire to be seen and recognized for their music is a feeling they’ve been looking for ever since they can remember.

And that’s exactly what they were indulging in before hearing a loud crack from outside of the backstage room. The noise, followed by a bunch of ugly screams, startles the four girls, who exchange a quick, worried glance before storming down straight into the sideway alley.

“Damn.” Ningning whistles, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the smile coming from her lips. At her side, Minjeong and Karina are equally shocked and frozen at the scene unraveling in front of them.

People usually use the dark, space to smoke and get a break from the noisy, heated space of the club. Instead, the four girls find a huddle of girls so entwined with one another it’s hard to tell how many there are. Four, maybe five? Of them are vividly screaming, kicking, tugging, and pulling hairs. Despite the mess, the girls realize there’s one that keeps beating the shit out of them, which is impressive due to being gravely outnumbered.

As the commotion stops for seconds once the strangers become aware of the newer company, it’s easier to tell a specific head of honey hair apart from the others.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Minjeong’s murmur doesn’t come off nearly as disappointed as she intends to. If anything, she’s also holding back her laughter while you prove that one does not need that much muscles to win off a fight.

“Go Y/n!” Karina claps, cheering. None of the three girls make any move towards the scene, so Giselle turns her head towards them in disbelief.

The Japanese girl shrugs, quickly making her way onto the ground to break off the fight. She’s always been strong, and her time spent at the gym pays off as she grabs you by the waist and throws you over her shoulder, heading back to the backstage room as if you weigh nothing. Any attempts of resisting are useless, yet you don’t make Giselle’s job any easier— your kicking and screaming are now directed at her, hands curling into fists while you use your entire strength to hit her muscled back.

“Put me DOWN! I’m not done with those whores.” Your feverish voice is ignored by the four girls, who are used to your tantrums by now.

They know you’re naturally provocative, and never one to back down from a fight, even if you were in the wrong. And, somehow, you were good at it too: even if you left bruised and scratched, your opponents would somehow always turn out worse.

“Sorry ladies, we have some issues to deal with. If you excuse us.” As the group goes back inside, Ningning offers the poor beaten-up girls a calculated smile before closing the door on their faces. She doesn’t bother to check in on them— they’re strangers, after all.

You’re thrown onto the worn-out sofa with little care, suddenly staring at four serious faces. The funny atmosphere of the fight is long gone, so you cross your arms under your chest and grunt, face held high to put up with their judgmental looks.

This is their job, and they can’t have you causing trouble over anything. You’re associated with them by now, whether they like it or not. It’d be an awful occurrence.

“So, troublemaker, tell us.” Giselle is the first to speak, brushing the bangs out of her face. Even after carrying you for solid minutes, she still looks flawless, much different from your disheveled self. “What had you beating their asses out there?”

There’s a pout on your lips, and the defiant air in the room stirs up their nerves. It’s an annoying interruption of the fun they were having just now, and the alcohol makes it hard for them to stay patient.

Minjeong takes half a step forward, her hands messing up your hair even more. “Speak, Y/n. We have better things to do.”

She doesn’t coddle you, tone cold as it always was when directed towards you, but you don’t mind. If anything, you take pride in making her life a bit more difficult every time. You know they won’t give you their attention for much longer, though, which is why sigh deeply.

“I was defending your honor, you idiots!” You gesticulate towards the door, huffing. “Those whores were out there, talking about you, speaking the most vile things… I had to do something. You should be thanking me, and not look so pissed.” You roll your eyes, muttering the rest to yourself as you sink on the dirty couch. “You never acknowledge anything I do anyway.”

It had felt too hot inside, so you passed the backstage area to gather some fresh air at the alley when you encountered the group of girls. They were in love with the band, obviously, and were very vocal about the things they’d let the girls do to them: how their leather clothes were so tight and how hot they were… Hearing such things being said about your girls made your blood boil. They were yours, and no one else had the right to desire them like that. So you were quick to take action and make sure everyone knew who Giselle, Winter, Karina, and Ningning belonged to. As a matter of fact, It was a successful attempt: after the lesson you taught them, those girls would think twice before saying anything again.

Your gaslighting does little to the band; it’s easy to look further into your façade now that they know you. They don’t pity you in the slightest, well aware you’re one to be cautious around.

Karina smiles at your act. She can’t help it if the pout on your lips makes you so adorable, and your crossed arms are the reason your send nudes crop top rides up so your boobs are even more evident. “Which things, Y/n? What were they saying, exactly?”

“What they said doesn’t matter.” You huff, dismissing Karina’s question with a wave of your hand. “The important thing is that they’ve been dealt with, and your honor is intact. You’re welcome.”

The electronic music is loud, and it’s easy to feel the rhythm reverberating through the furniture, sending electric waves to your bones that rile you up even more. You’re energized, ready to go back to the crowd, drink, smoke, and stir up some trouble again.

Aeri must’ve been thinking the same thing since she merely shakes her head and leaves without a word. Ning is the next one to follow, proceeded by Minjeong, who rolls her eyes and points her finger right at your face.

“You’re such a menace, Y/n. Acting like an animal… you can’t behave at all.” You’re used to the disdain in her voice, so the only thing you do is mirror her snobbish stare as you watch her leave.

Unlike her bandmate, Karina’s eyes are kind— even though you’ve just messed up hard. You’re the only ones left in the room, you realize, as she holds out her hand to you. With her presence, the music ceases, and the only thing you can focus on is the sound of her heartbeat, and how her little chin mole goes up to match her smile, which is equally sweet.

Sweet, patient, and definitely too good for you: that’s Karina, a soul that should stay untouched, not yet ruined by the world and by other people.

Too bad that you’ve never been one to do the right thing.

You navigate towards her in a magnetic motion, taking her help so fast your bodies nearly crash once you get up from the couch. Instead of complaining or making fun of you for being so abrupt, Karina takes her free hand to your face, cupping your cheek before carefully wiping the dirt from your skin.

“Troublemaker.” She repeats Giselle’s words from earlier, although they sound almost reverent when said in her raspy voice, tired from the crazy routine they live with. “She’s a bit right, don’t you think?” The smirk on her lips is playful, and she toys with you. “You keep us on our toes, for sure. I guess someone has to.”

She doesn’t mind. If anything, Karina misses your presence when you’re gone— which is thankfully, a rare occasion. Sure, you’re stubborn, spoiled, and very annoying, but the band somehow needs you to keep their engines running. She knows the other girls feel the same way about you too, even if they’re good at not making it known.

Being with Karina feels right. She’s Aespa’s peace, their leader, and their oldest member. And, just like everybody that has ever met her, you long to be around the older girl.

“Let’s go back to the party, Jimin unnie.” You tell her, crossing your arms behind her neck. If there’s anything she’d want you to do, you would. Gladly. “I want to dance.”

She smiles back at you, looking at the half-open door before nodding. “As you wish, Y/n.”

—

Aespa’s hotel room for the night is precarious, to say the least. The wallpaper is peeling from the walls, the furniture is dusty— and the small dining table seems to barely handle your laptop and media equipment. The bed makes too many weird noises at the slightest movement, and the smell of mold is a bit unsettling for those with a decent sense of smell.

It’s Minjeong’s job to deal with their spending and to book their stays, whenever the band wanders off their hometown. Her father works as a treasurer at a well-established company and has taught her how to handle her own money from a young age. Sometimes, though, she tends to spend too little, given the fact that they still did not earn much with their performances, and the five girls would end up in situations like the current one. Not that they truly minded: they had two rooms to sleep in and breakfast by the morning, which was more than enough. They would handle the rest.

Karina, Giselle, Ningning, and Minjeong are all rockstars, it’s natural for them to thrive under attention. They live for it, and you love to record their pretty faces. Out of all the experiences of being with the girls, getting to take pictures and videos of their performances and looks— be it before, during, or after their shows. Editing might also be a pain and sometimes feel like a chore, but it was also something you enjoyed doing.

Besides, the praises and the proud, enamored look Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Minjeong gave you whenever you updated something new to their channel and social media was something you looked forward to, naturally. In fact, you’re so focused on your task that you barely notice a sudden wave of hot breath on your shoulder.

“How far are you, yet?” Karina’s wet hair clings to your neck as you breathe in her post-bath scent, so refreshing. You’re unable to see her sulk behind you, but her whiny tone is enough for you to figure her feelings out before she adds, “Also, why am I the one with the least videos, Y/n?”

You don’t even stop your work to look at the vocalist, who stares at your laptop’s screen with expectation: the answer is obvious to anyone who has ever had the privilege of getting to know Aespa's leader."

“Because I’m always too busy looking at you to focus on anything else.” The words leave your mouth immediately, exposing facts. “But I’ll improve for next time if that’s what you wish.”

Doing anything after Karina opens her mouth is impossible. Her angelic voice and sharp moves draw all the attention to her immediately; one would be completely insane to not be mesmerized by her. By all of her.

“It is.” She nods, still so close you’re able to feel her body pressed against you through the chair’s cracks. Like a kitten, Karina purrs, finally breaking the tension between you by pressing small, wet kisses to your neck. “Y/n…”

You’re doomed. You’ve known that ever since she left the bathroom, with wet hair and red, swollen lips that did little to hide what she was up to while the shower was running.

Karina’s long, purple-painted nails scratch your neck, forcing you to pay attention to her— as if you’d do anything else. You’re quick to comply, closing your laptop as you stand up and walk away from the oldest member, onto your backpack. Her confused brows are adorable, but the realization comes soon once she reckons the camera on your hands. By then, there’s a dirty smirk on both of your lips; you know she loves this as much as you do.

“Are you up for another show, doll?”

Karina nods, suddenly shy from all the dirty thoughts going through her head. Her skin throbs, and there’s a familiar sensation building up in her core from the anticipation.

After waiting for the camera to be well adjusted and centered in front of the bed, with the familiar red dot announcing the recording, she turns around, removing her robe with practiced ease. The silk fabric of her robe cascades from her back, exposing her milky skin in its most perfect form. She’s indeed like a doll; body still untouched, announcing it’s been a while since she’s had any fun, and her Venus dimples flare up with every step she takes towards the bed. Her curves are perfectly enhanced by her sensual walk— she knows so, grabbing her hair out of the way so you’re able to get a clear shot of her body.

You’re so lucky to even have the privilege of looking at her. Karina seems to think the same thing; her knowing smile turns malicious just as she sits on the bed, spreading her legs out for your delight. Playing around with her is almost a routine, by now: Karina needs something, someone to be her stress-relief, and you’re more than eager to help.

However, seeing her bare and so eager to welcome your touch was something you’d crave forever. No matter how many times it happened: you’d always be hungry for the slightest glimpse of her pretty pussy.

And it was no secret that Karina loved to show off, so you drink on her like you haven’t had a single drop of liquor in ages.

It had indeed been too long.

“How do I look, baby?” Her voice is soft, calm as she looks deep inside your eyes and taps on her pussy with two of her fingers. A small strand of wetness lingers between her fingers and her slit, and she takes her fingers forward to make a show for seconds longer. It’s only when the strand dissipates that Karina brings her fingers into her mouth, taking them in ever so naturally. You don’t even register the whine that comes from your lips once she releases them with a ‘bop’, right after licking them clean.

“Absolutely stunning.” Your answer comes in a heartbeat, which pleases her deeply. In a blink, you’re in front of her on the bed, although still careful to not cover up her frame for the camera. Not that you have to worry about that; Karina is well aware of her best angles. “As always.” You lick your lips, eager to have your mouth on her, licking every part of her body until she’s more than satisfied, coated with your saliva.

But you know better than to touch her without permission, so you simply wait, aware she needs more indulgence than merely a few words. You run your hands up and down her legs, ever so obedient, hoping she’ll allow you to touch her.

Instead, her fingers go up to her chest, groping her big, voluptuous breasts. She’s so evil— Karina knows how obsessed you are with her boobs, “You caused so much trouble today, Y/n… I shouldn’t let you touch me at all.”

Her feigned innocence only adds to your desire, dampening your pussy even more. Even though you’re burning up, you can’t help but be in awe by how much of a goddess she looks, and it takes everything in you to not just grab her by the ankles and suck on her clit until she was screaming and leaking white from her pussy. Still staring at you, Karina twists her nipples and moans, biting her lip as she breathes in deeply.

You’re already throbbing yourself, and she’s done nothing. That’s the amount of power she has over you.

“I’ve been bad.” You nod almost eagerly, ready to do whatever she commands you to if it means you’ll get to pleasure her. “Can I still have you, though? Promise to make you feel super good.”

At first look, Karina might be the most inviting one out of all of the girls, but you know better than to fall into her trap: just like her bandmates, the leader thrives on playing games, manipulating people, and fooling around. Thankfully to both you and her, you’re happy to indulge in all of her wishes. So you add, battling your lashes at her as you take off your clothes yourself, not bothering for a command on this matter. “I’ll do my best for unnie…”

Karina’s eyes darken at the sight of your naked body; it’s so empowering to know she’s just as affected by you, and she runs her fingers through your hair with practiced ease. Taking her silence as an encouragement, you lie down until your face is lined up with her soaked cunt, blowing warm, rapid breaths onto her sex.

She smiles, then, caressing your cheek before giving it a light tap. “Go get the strap, baby.” Your smile fades immediately, and you contemplate ignoring her words until she’s changed your mind before your cheek is met with more of Karina’s fingers, her touch stronger this time. “Now.”

You huff, muttering incoherences because she’s such a bitch, ruining all of your plans, but still do as told, grabbing the strap without much further fussing. With the toy in hands, you return to the edge of the bed, staring at her with a puzzled look on your face.

“Are you going to use it?” You ask, curious. Taking Karina’s cock was something you always looked forward to, and the sight of her pounding onto you was enough for your walls to clench, eager to welcome her.

Karina launches forward before you even finish your question, grabbing your thighs with practiced ease as her fingers brush your pussy. The surprise touch makes you let out a loud moan, which stirs up a laugh on the older girl.

“If only you’d behaved today… I had so many things planned for us to do.” Karina’s voice sounds almost regretful, making you kneel once again, “No, baby. Tonight’s only about me. Now suck.”

There’s little time for you to think her thoughts through. Your mind goes blank, and you open your mouth to give her a show this time, reversing the roles. Always eager to please, you gag on her cock. Saliva drips onto the sheets as she shoves it down your throat, but you don’t seem to care, emptying your mind to give her will over you to use you like a toy. She’s not sweet or slow by any means— Karina’s innocent smile, welcoming posture, and puppy-like personality make a good disguise for hiding how dirty she is. Part of her tells herself it’s wrong, and that’s why she tries to reject how much her body craves rougher actions, but the truth is that the hiding and the expectation also turn her on.

Those thoughts hover in your mind as you bob on her strap, looking at the leader through your lashes while you gather all your focus on giving your best for her. You try to look your best, and give your best for Aespa’s leader: she deserves nothing less, after all. It seems to be enough for Karina, who sighs at the sight of you staring from behind your lashes with your hair all over the place ever since her tangling hands went to your scalp, encouraging you to keep going for so long you’ve lost track of time.

“Beautiful. You look so beautiful like this, baby.” She murmurs with a low, sultry tone as she takes the strap from your mouth and seals your lips in a slow kiss. You’re starved for her; your boobs press together when you deepen the kiss, desperate for more. At this point you’re already soaked, leaving a deep, wet spot on the sheets— and your skin burns. “Don’t be rude. Say thank you.”

Such a tease, she is. You roll your eyes at her trying to rile you up, and she laughs. “Don’t even.” You mutter, rolling your eyes at her.

Karina’s hands go to your thighs, caressing your skin as she motions for you to get up once again. “You’re so stubborn.” She chants, adjusting the strap on you. Per her request, you lay back on the bed as soon as you’re done, somehow managing to sink under the shallow pillows.

There’s such a mean smirk dancing around her lips. Your cunt aches and it’s borderline painful; sweat covers your body and you’re nearly sure you’ll go insane if you don’t give her all the pleasure she’s worthy of very soon. All you want is to eat her out until she’s breathless, porcelain skin all marked begging for you to stop. Then, you’d lick her clean, making her cum so many times there’d be plenty of milk dripping from her hole for you to drink on. All yours. She’s all yours to tend to.

“Why don’t you just let me do it already…” You whine, drawing your head back when she grabs one of your nipples and twists— the friction feels so good it sends a hit of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Instead of indulging your needs, Karina laughs, and there’s a hidden mockery in her tone that only adds to your frustration. She comes close until her hips rest on your thighs, with the strap being the only thing that keeps a distance between you. Before you’re able to test her patience even more, she positions the dick on her entrance, slightly rocking back and forth so it hits deliciously against her clit.

“You can look.” She says, grabbing your shoulders to steady herself. “But you can’t touch. Understood, baby?”

Karina’s eyes, big and expressive, stare at you with feigned innocence as one of her hands caresses your jaw, lifting your face so you’d stare at her. Having her making such luscious sounds so close to you is like a death penalty. Karina’s mouth hangs slightly open, and you gulp whenever she aligns the fake dick with her entrance, giving you a serious look that makes it clear that she expects an answer to her command.

A huge bitch, she is. A hot, sexy, and huge bitch. It’s nearly impossible to stay still, but you can see the challenge in her eyes as soon as she cocks her head at you. Although her little act of defiance is silent, her intentions are as clear as day: she wants you to humiliate yourself: to beg for forgiveness so you’ll maybe get granted the privilege of touching her.

So you smile back, placing your hands on your hips and doing nothing else, even if you’re itching to run your tongue all over her body. “As you wish, unnie.”

Karina is so wet, of course she is— it’s not hard to leave her drenched. The dick slides in easily, and she takes her time with taking down its inches. Your grip on her hips turns slightly stronger at the sight of her looking so angelical, as her big, soft boobs are all in display to your face. That earns you a censoring look, and you move your hands with another eye-roll. There's nothing more you want but to touch her.

After a few breaths, Karina finds a steady pace, bouncing on your lap. The gushing sounds of her pussy that echo through the room are nearly pornographic, and you find yourself letting out desperate whimpers, too.

“So good.” She murmurs, lost in pleasure. Her grip on your shoulders tightens, and you feel her muscles tensing up.

You can’t help it— watching her pleasure herself is almost too much. Without much thinking, your fingers make their way to her clit, circling her hardened as you study her, testing out the waters. She lets out a gasp at the sensation, closing her eyes to enjoy the way her lower abdomen kept building up the tension. The tingling sensation increases with the rhythm of your strokes, along with her moves, and it doesn’t take much further for Karina to cum.

Just as always, Karina’s strong voice fills the room as she takes her head back, clenching her pussy once the waves of pleasure hit her with strong motions. Her entire body trembles, and she relies on you to keep her steady.

“You look the prettiest when you cum.” You tell her, after a few moments of silence.

The laugh she lets out is weak, more like a giggle as Karina sighs deeply, carelessly throwing herself on your side of the bed. She turns to you, then, so close your noses are nearly touching, disregarding your words as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “And you can’t ever behave, can you?”

You mirror her smirk, pecking her lips before shaking your head. “You like it that way, though.”

The two of you stay in a comfortable silence, one you don’t mind at all. The girls have had some busy, tiring weeks, and you know Karina needs rest. She’s tired—they all are, so the tension relief was well welcomed by the oldest girl. Despite being all sweaty and breathless, Karina is much less anxious now that you’ve helped her relax. She runs her fingers through your body, taking her time until she reaches your pussy. It delights her to feel how soaked you are: she’s aware of the amount of power she holds over you, and the fact that you’re gulping, still throbbing yourself, is something so empowering to her.

It makes her insides tingle all over again, asking for more.

“Jimin…” You whine again, opening your legs to give the girl better access to your entrance. You need her to touch you or else you’ll explode.

Two of her fingers enter your cunt before you can cry any further, hitting a fast pace without warning. The action is well welcomed, and you hold her wrist, motioning to go further. But Karina loves to make you frustrated; it’s almost as if she thrives on it: just like they made their way inside, her fingers are gone, and her mean smirk is back.

“You haven’t behaved at all today.” She repeats herself, laughing as she kisses your pout away. You bite her lip in response, which makes her pull your face away, although she’s still giggling. “You’ll get nothing tonight, baby. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at her, “You’re such a fucking liar! You’re not sorry at all!”

Karina turns her back to you, making a show of ignoring you as she grabs the covers just as a big yawn hits her. “Goodnight to you too, pretty. Sleep tight,” You roll your eyes, ready to give her a sneaky remark when she adds, “Oh, and don’t forget to turn off the camera. We don’t want you running out of battery or anything, do we?”

“You’re such a bitch.” Although you still get up and do as told, knowing she’s partially right.

Karina waits patiently for you to return to bed, with her small eyes and big smile. The sensuality and roughness from earlier have been replaced by her usual bubbly self, which you adore just as much. It has always been amusing to you how easily it is for her to just switch back and forth from the luscious, gorgeous woman she is to her puppy personality, and you adore her either way.

You hop into her arms, humming when she fills your neck with small, wet kisses.

“You have to behave, silly.” Is what she tells you, biting your skin gently. You’re one to bruise easily, you both know it as much. However, you say nothing, allowing her to do as she pleases. “Otherwise you won’t get a reward.”

“We’ll see about that.” You murmur, happy to get lost in her cuddles. “I sure need something after that torture session.”

Your words cause you to be pushed back, although you know Karina’s only joking.“Oh my God! Go to sleep, Y/n. Goodnight.”

“Ugh.” Is all you answer, closing your arms around her waist.

“Y/n.”

“Right, right.” You sigh, “Goodnight, cutie. Can I get a kiss?”

The hand that goes through your face is enough of an answer.

“Sleep. We’ll have a busy day tomorrow.” She commands.

And because it’s Karina, you obey. You’d always hail the band’s leader.

Your personal camgirl.

—

Breakfast has always been something you’d skip if you could. It’s a pain to wake up so early, and you need at least an hour to be somewhat presentable and another two until you can properly talk to anyone. However, the soon you leave this shitty hotel the better, so you resume sitting beside Giselle and Ningning while they talk excitedly. You chew on your bread with scrambled eggs with perhaps too much patience, still marveling at how composed they look despite running on 5 hours of sleep.

“So, we’ve got good news. Amazing news, actually. Like, the greatest news ever.” Ningning’s nearly jumping in her seat, her eyes darting from you, then Giselle, Minjeong, and finally to Karina multiple times in seconds. Yizhuo plays with her hands, nudging Karina while nearly dying of anxiety. “Unnie, would you please tell them? Go, go.”

The excitement in her tone captures enough of your attention; you, Giselle, and Minejong collectively sit up straighter, exchanging a confused look. The fact that they know as little as you do is comforting, and stirs up a nice, warm feeling of being included within your heart. The girls could be harsh and a little mean sometimes, naturally, but there are times when they’re also very sweet.

Karina laughs, pinching Ning’s cheeks. Even though Ningning pretends she despises it, you love to baby her and spoil her rotten.

“You can do it, Ning.” She encourages her baby girl to speak up, loving the smile that brightens up the maknae’s lips after the command. “Go ahead, tell them what we’re doing next.”

With her leader’s blessing, Ningning lets out a happy squeal and launches herself upwards. The upper half of her body hangs on the breakfast table as she looks around before whispering as if the topic is top-secret.

“So, this guy approached me after our show.” She stops abruptly at your reactions, waving her hands, “Hey, don’t make such faces! He wasn’t a weirdo or anything, I promise. Anyway, he came up and said he worked for AKT Music Ent. and that he liked our music and thought we had potential.” Ningning pauses, looking up to her leader for reassurance. Once Karina nods, giving her a knowing smile, she adds, “And then I told him to talk to Karina, of course, because she’s our leader and all… but basically, he invited us to compete at The Box, next month. Can you believe it?”

“You’re fucking with us.” Minjeong answers, in awe. She looks at Karina, with her mouth still slightly open in shock. “Please tell me you’re serious. That this isn’t a joke or anything.”

Karina has a proud look on her face as she nods. “It’s a thing. We’re doing it.”

“HELL YES!” Giselle screams, laughing loudly. She reaches out her arms and squeezes you and Ningning in a tight hug, her embrace so strong it’s borderline suffocating. Not that you mind— if anything, it fills you with warmth to be with them in their first big accomplishment. “WE’RE PLAYING IN THE BOX! OH MY FUCKING GOD. WE ARE AMAZING!”

Minjeong and Karina laugh at her reaction, just as happy from the news. Taking part in the event is an amazing opportunity for them: the mere thought of performing at the stage is enough to give them goosebumps, both of fear and excitement.

The Box is a week-long competition where the top 3 winners get a 2-year long contract, each signed with one of the Big 3 music companies of the country: SM, JYP or YG. It’s an elite program where successful bands have gained popularity and recognition, like SNSD. It’s set at a big, open area at the countryside and held much like a festival: the event has become more and more capitalized with every passing year. The companies make sure to hold a big show out of the entire thing, broadcasting the events that happen simultaneously 24/7— numerous interviews, commercials are shot by the participants to support the sponsors of the competition, which helps them to make their debut on national television. There are various foods, restaurants and parties being held at all times. It’s also a great opportunity for fans of nugu bands to personally interact with them, and actually super nice to meet other bands and artists. Besides the main goal, being at the event alone is a huge honor and opportunity for the band to grow as artists. They certainly won’t take for granted.

Minjeong claps excitedly. “We need to celebrate!”

“Absolutely.” Giselle agrees, looking in disgust at the men who kept sitting at the nearby tables even though it was still fairly early, and the Diner was still empty. “At home, though. Let’s get out of here, please.”

The five of you exchange a knowing look, collectively getting up at the same time as you grab your belongings and hurry to leave the shitty hotel. Your hearts are filled with pride, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

“You deserve this.” Is what you tell them, breaking the steady silence that reigned in the car. The girls look at you, all returning from dreamland.

Even though their only response is a faint hum, the satisfaction on their faces tells you they needed to hear that. “This is only a result of your hard work. All the hours of practice, the shitty-ass places you played at before, the No’s you’ve gotten… It’s going to work out, trust me.”

Karina’s arms go to your neck, in a gentle caress as she adds, looking at her bandmates. Her best friends. “Y/n is right. We got this.”

There’s nothing they can’t do, as long as they’re together.

[heartkaji]

SNEAKY LINK ★ k. bakugo

bakugo should’ve been here thirty minutes ago.

it’s thirty minutes later & you’ve got snowflakes crawling up your throat. you exhale warm breaths through chapped lips & watch smoky condensate disappear into thick air. your nose is peach dappled & your cheeks are freezing.

bakugo should’ve been here an hour ago.

it’s one hour later & your tongue is frozen & your cheeks are blood drenched & drugstore lip balm feels dry against your lip. you wipe your nose & pretend the night isn’t freezing & hope to god you won’t wait forever.

“you’re still here ?”

bakugo comes in like a thief in the night. his baritone has your bones shivering, (or perhaps it’s the cold) & you look up at him with bleary eyes. katsuki bakugo looks warm. you can smell spiced latte in his breath & dark chocolate pricks at your nose. you sniffle a little & hope he doesn’t notice.

“you’re late.”

“i know,” he breathes. “had to help priscilla sort out the kids.”

it’s easy to forget pro-hero bakugo katsuki is a taken man with wife & kids. his ten fingers are always bare & calloused so it’s easy to pretend katsuki is yours. tonight however there’s snow sticking to your boot heels & you wish katsuki would stick his mouth shut too. you don’t want to hear her name. not tonight.

not any other night.

“right. when are you getting that divorce again ?”

the sound bakugo lets out is close to guttural. his eyes are everywhere but yours so you have to remind yourself that body language isn’t all it seems. he’s scratching at his nape & his adam’s apple drags up his throat but body language isn’t always as it seems. he never answers so you let the question die.

“are you ready to skate ?”

katsuki nods. for the first time tonight his eyes meet your own & all of a sudden the night’s a little warmer. he presses gloved fingers to your forehead and you squeeze your eyes shut. the burn of the leather is grueling.

“you’re freezing,”

“i wonder whose fault that is,” you mutter, but katsuki has a hearing sharper than icicles. he cups your cheeks in burning leather & worn out goat fabric. your cheeks are blood drenched & your lips are teeth bitten & even like this katsuki thinks you’re beautiful.

“don’t wait for me next time, okay ?”

“okay.”

katsuki leads you with an iron grip. his thumb brushes over your knuckles occasionally so you don’t have the heart to tell him his hold is bruising. your wrist is aching but the night is quiet so you choose to focus on other things : a meow in an alleyway. groans of dying trees. the feel of a ring wedged between gloved fingers.

oh.

you don’t dare to comment. katsuki never wears his wedding ring—at least, not around you. you tread through winter with gloveless hands so the promise ring on your right index gleams brighter than ever. katsuki brushes over it occasionally & you squeeze at your chest & try not to vomit. your vocal chords slosh against your throat like blood.

“we don’t have to go skating today.”

“too late, we’re already here.”

you rest on the bench with wobbling knees. oak wood splinters dig at your thighs but you suppose the pain is neccessary. katsuki’s eyes are trained on the lake. it’s frozen & a shade similar to blue bells but it only serves to remind you of katsuki’s wife. you’ve seen her once before & she had eyes as blue as starlight. you hope one day she’ll crash & burn like dead comets.

you wonder what katsuki is thinking about.

you’re about to call his name when he gets on one knee. your heart skips for a minute until he begins tugging off your shoe. he ties the ice skates with a firm knot & you resist the urge to thread a hand through his hair. heaven knows his honey-gold locks will sting your skin & bite you back.

he presses his lips to your knee, “you ready ?”

“i’m ready.”

pro hero bakugo katsuki is a professional at things beyond heroism. you’re a wobbling, stumbling mess & you haven’t even made it to the rink yet. your cheeks are cherry bruised. katsuki doesn’t comment & you’re not sure if you should be happy or sad because you don’t want to be called a fool but the silence is deafening. you grip his shoulders to stead yourself & katsuki hoists you up like a sack of fresh peaches.

“damn you, making me come out here when y’can’t even skate yourself.”

you smile. his mouth is sharp but his touch is gentle. his thumb glides against your lower back. “will you teach me, kats’ ?”

katsuki eyes you. he lets out a sound akin to a scoff but it might be more of a grumble. “too much of a hassle, i’d rather just carry you.”

you nod. he sighs.

bakugo is strong. he glides along the ice with your figure in his arms but he never stops to break a sweat. you want to ask him if his muscles are aching but the ice on your tongue hasn’t thawed off yet. bakugo is beautiful—occasionally he does a little spin on the rink just so you’ll giggle & clutch him a little tighter. you swear you saw him smile the third time you laughed out his name.

bakugo should’ve left thirty minutes ago.

thirty minutes later he’s still here by your side. the white chocolate mocha between your palms is burning but the cold stings at your fingertips the moment you let it go. you take two sips & offer katsuki the rest—he scoffs at you because aren’t you the one who said you needed a drink ? but takes the cup between his lips anyway. he takes two sips & presses his lips to your face. your nose is pink & your cheeks are burning.

bakugo should’ve left an hour ago.

it’s an hour later & he draws shapes on your palm through goat glove fingers. you’re back on oak-thorn bench but this time your thighs are over katsuki’s so the wood can’t pierce your skin. ‘you should’ve worn some leggings,’ he grumbles, but his thumb grazes your thighs in the shape of a starfish. you hope his touch will burn you forever.

bakugo is leaving now.

all good things must come to an end, you suppose, but tears stream down your face like new waters. katsuki rolls his eyes. he hates it when you get like this & he hates that he makes you get like this & he hates that—

“fucking hell, just get over here.”

you dive into his arms & for the third time tonight bakugo rolls his eyes. you’re shaking & hes not sure if it’s a shiver due to cold or a quaking due to tears. your knees are wobbly so he tightens his hold on your hips & prays your legs won’t give out. heaven knows his arms are already aching.

“hey, look at me.”

there’s mascara smeared across your cheeks & your lips are swollen purple. your nose is runny & crystal frozen & bakugo thinks you’re absolutely beautiful.

“what are you crying for ?”

you’re crying even harder now so bakugo mentally slaps himself. “y/n, look at me.”

& you do. he cups your cheeks with gloved palms & kisses your nose, cheek, forehead. his mouth traces everywhere but your lips.

it’s always everywhere but your lips.

but you don’t complain, you never do. you don’t complain because in your head katsuki’s lips meet your own & your mouths bleed into each other’s forever. in your head, katsuki hugs you tight & shields you from the evening snow. in your head, katsuki is yours & you are his undoubtedly.

“same time next week ?”

not all dreams come true but with enough belief you know that yours will manifest. your chest is tight & you hope your heart won’t bleed forever.

“always. and next time, katsuki ?”

“what is it ?”

“don’t be an hour late.”

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[puckinghischier]

Sunburnt

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn

notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺

[3.3k]

(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)

You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.

Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.

You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.

You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.

Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.

Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.

Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.

Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.

This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.

You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.

You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.

“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”

Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.

“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”

Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.

“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.

“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.

You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.

Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.

“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.

“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”

Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.

“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”

You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.

“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.

“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.

Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.

You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.

“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.

Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.

He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.

“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.

Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.

You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.

The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.

You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.

“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.

You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.

You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.

“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.

You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.

“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.

“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.

“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.

Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.

The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.

At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.

“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.

“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.

“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.

You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wonder what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.

You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.

You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.

“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.

You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.

When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.

You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.

You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.

You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.

Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.

“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.

“Oh Lovey…”

You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.

“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.

Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.

Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.

You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.

Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.

“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.

He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.

You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.

“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.

“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.

He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.

“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.

You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.

After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.

“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.

“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.

Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.

He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.

“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.

“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Jack, I’m still hungry.”

“Do you want me to go grab something?”

“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.

Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.

Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.

He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.

“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.

You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.

“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.

“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.

“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.

“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.

“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.

He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.

Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.

He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.

“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.

“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.

He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.

You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.

“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.

“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.

“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.

“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.

Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.

Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.

[rhiannonsknife]

currently thinking about having a sleepover with lottie on a weeknight (because she didn’t want to be all alone in that huge house of hers) and waking up in the morning to a sleepy, grumpy girlfriend who absolutely refuses to let go of you.

you’re all- “lottie, c’mon, we’re gonna be late for homeroom.” and she just looks up at you like 🥺🥺 with little, incoherent grumbles about how she doesn’t want to get out of bed yet.

bonus points if it’s the dead of winter so you also don’t wanna get up because lottie’s just so, so warm and cozy and you end up falling back asleep and missing half the school day

turned this into one of my christmas works simply because it takes place in winter 😭😭

lottie’s arms are draped over your waist, her face tucked into the crook of your neck. the warmth of her body and the soft rise and fall of her breathing are steady, so comforting, that for a moment you let yourself sink into it, almost forgetting why you were trying to wriggle free in the first place.

then reality hits: school, responsibilities, the whole rest of the world waiting impatiently outside the comfort of lottie’s bed. you sigh, shifting slightly, but her hold only tightens in response, as if even asleep she’s determined to keep you close.

if you could, you’d spend every minute of the day like this; curled up in bed with your girlfriend.

“lottie,” you murmur, your voice still scratchy with sleep. “we’re gonna be late”

a soft groan is her only response, followed by her tightening her hold on you. you manage to shift enough to glance down at her just when lottie cracks one eye open.

“no,” she mutters sleepily. “don’t wanna get up. stay.”

her lips brush your collarbone as she speaks, and all your resolve weakens instantly. “lot…” you start, but she cuts you off with a quiet, sleepy whine, burying herself as deep into your side as physically possible.

“please,” lottie grumbles, barely coherent. “it’s so cold too! just stay”

and she’s not got a point: the air outside the bed is freezing. even when your hand brushes the comforter as you try to push it aside, the chill stings your fingers. the warmth of lottie’s body, on the other hand, her legs tangled with yours under the thick blankets, is so tempting.

you sigh, the initial determination to get up fading fast. “we can’t just skip school,” you reason, though you don’t sound so convinced anymore. it’s hard to sound firm when lottie’s arm tightens just slightly around your waist. she finally looks up at you, her sleepy eyes wide and pleading. she doesn’t even need to say anything. the pout of her lips, the way her hair is a mess around her face, and the fact that she’s so warm and cozy has you wrapped around her sleepy finger.

that’s what you get for spending the weeknight at her places

“okay, fine,” you relent, flopping back down beside her. “but just because the year is almost over and we don’t have any exams left!”

lottie’s face lights up as she shifts to rest her head on your chest. “knew you’d come around,” she mumbles, already halfway back to dozing off.

you roll your eyes fondly, your hand lazily brushing through her hair as her breathing evens out again.

by the time you wake up, the weak winter sun is streaming through the curtains, casting bright slants across the rumpled sheets. lottie stirs by your side as you shift to glance at the clock: an hour past lunch.

skipping the first period has promptly turned into missing the whole day.

“oh we’re so screwed,” you mumble, laughing softly.

“worth it,” she shrugs decisively.

[miley1442111]

treatment plan (part 2)- a.hotchner

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summary: aaron oversteps and it starts a fight.

pairing: aaron hotchner x insomnia! reader

warnings: angst, discussions of insomnia and feeling 'different' because of it, mental health, crying, happy ending, aaron is insecure, fighting, suggestive at the end

part of this au:

insomniac

treatment plan (part 1)

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You walked into work the next day, exhausted and rather irritated. Aaron was a tyrant as he shouted and screamed about anything small anyone did wrong, even when Derek made a dumb joke on the plane. The case was tough, three girls gone missing with nothing to connect them, apart from their clothing. You had nothing to go off of, and on top of it, it was a dead of winter in fucking Maine. Freezing didn't even begin to cover it. 

“This is a shithole,” you sighed as you walked into your hotel room. You knew Aaron was behind you, you knew he was going to try to talk to you, and in all honesty, you didn’t give a shit. You had absolutely no time for him. He’d called you selfish. When you did everything he asked of you, and more. Pathetic. He was the selfish one. 

“We’re in a remote town, what were you expecting,” his calm, yet cutting voice drove the wedge further between you, and suddenly the room became much colder. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “A Four Season’s?”

He scoffed. “Maybe then you’d actually sleep.”

He noticed how your face fell, and he really noticed when you locked yourself in the bathroom, taking a very long time to shower. He sighed as he sat on the bed, his pyjamas on, but he wasn’t tired. He was just… upset? Annoyed? Guilty? He wasn’t sure. What he did know was that he was sorry. He wanted you to come back home, come back to him. He wanted to hold you as you slept soundly under him, when you weren’t plagued with your anxieties and stress of the day. Those peaceful moments where you wouldn’t look back at him, because when you did he felt himself open. He felt like a raw, open wound when you looked at him. He often felt stupid because of it. Were you as affected by him as he was you? Was your world constantly flipped on its head every time he walked into the room like his was when you did?  

No, because Aaron Hotchner, boring, logical, unemotive, shy, Aaron Hotchner was nowhere near your excellence or beauty. Nowhere near your humour and tantalising smile. Nowhere near you emotional expressions and unwilling intelligence. 

Aaron knew he had no chance with you from the get-go, and he had been shocked when you’d asked him out, after months of pining after you. As he watched you with Jack, with the team, he saw himself slowly falling into your orbit, and falling in love. 

And he fucked it up, all because he was worried, and far too logical for love to work. 

He turned off his light and turned over. He didn’t turn around and comfort you when he heard your soft sobs, and he only let himself cry when he was sure you were asleep. God, why couldn’t you two just talk?

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You woke up before Aaron, a rare thing, so you took full advantage. You left the hotel before him, got to the precinct first, and kept going with the case, Spencer and Emily by your side. When Aaron came in thirty minutes later, you were already on your way out to interview the families with Jj, so he couldn’t talk to you. 

You two were called back after another body had been found later that day, the sky already dark as you two pulled up to the scene. Aaron was waiting. 

“I’ll take Agent Y/l/n, you can go back to the precinct Jj, thanks.”

And there was no room for arguing.  

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You and Aaron walked onto another crime scene, the dark sky and minimal light making the small path difficult to see. You didn’t even want to be around Aaron, let alone around him in a professional setting. Everyone on the team knew what was going on because Penelope cannot keep things to herself. You stepped, squinting to see the tiny dirt path through the trees and bam, you were sliding down a mud hill. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, finally stopping at the bottom. You were covered in mud, you were exhausted, and you were upset. Not a good mix. You felt the tears of frustration well up in your eyes, but swallowed them down when Aaron came to your rescue.

“Are you hurt?” he asked frantically, checking your body for cuts and bruises. “Y/n!”

“I’m fine Aaron, I just slipped,” you sigh, getting up with his help. “I’ll head back to the hotel and shower, I’ll see you in the morning-”

“Let me come with you, please,” he pleaded. You reluctantly agreed and off you two went, back to the hotel. 

You stood in the lobby, muddy and cold as Aaron got the room keys. 

He stared at you as you waited for the elevator.

“Let’s go Aaron,” you sighed. You walked in silence to your room, and when you went into the bathroom, locking the door behind you, Aaron sat on the bed and sighed. What the fuck was he going to do? 

He’d fucked up before, but not like this. He knew he was pushing you when he said what he said, but he was just so scared, so worried, so… uncontrolled. He didn’t know what to do, a new feeling for him. 

“Y/n,” he called from the other side of the bathroom. “I’m sorry.” 

He heard you mumble something. “Can I come in?” He asked. Suddenly the door was unlocked and he was let in. 

“What do you want?” You asked, washing your hair in the bath. Aaron gulped, god you were gorgeous. 

“I’m sorry about the fight,” he admitted, trying to keep his thoughts off your body. “I know I should’ve respected your decision, but I’m really fucking scared. I’m really, really scared. I’ve never had to think about this, and with all the awful facts Reid keeps telling me-”

“You need to stop listening to him,” you chuckled. “And I understand. It can be a lot, even for me.”

While you were annoyed at him, you understood where he was coming from. This was scary. The statistics were scary. The diagnosis was scary. He was just trying to look out for you, like he always does, and maybe a part of what he was saying was right. Maybe you should keep trying, it just gets hard when you are constantly told that you’re untreatable. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Can we start talking to each other again?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, and I’m sorry I ran away.” 

“I deserved it,” he chuckled. “So…?”

“So… I will go back to looking for treatment,” you said and his face lit up. “But if it gets too much for me I will stop again. And I’m not selfish for doing that.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry I ever said that, you’re the most selfless person I've ever met.”

“And also,” you added. “I love you, but you cannot keep taking your frustrations out on me and expect me to be alright. That’s not fair.”

“I promise,” he nodded. 

“Then, I think we’re back to normal,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his hand. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” he smirked, allowing his mind to focus on other things…

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[rachetmath]

Jaune Revenge

Winter: Ruby we found her.

Ruby: Cinder. Everyone it's time.

Yang: Ruby no-

Ruby: I have to stop her. I am the only one.

Jaune: What?

Ruby: It has to be me.

Jaune: Who the hell- who the hell decided that?!

Ruby: She is my problem.

Jaune: I know this- oh hell no she- Ruby!

Ruby: Farewell my friend. I pray that I return.

Jaune: Oh hell-

After a minute what seemed like hours of fighting.

Cinder: Yes finally.

Ruby: *barely catching her breath*

Cinder: After all this time… you finally die Ruby R-

*Boom*

Cinder: *screams in pain*

Ruby: *looks behind her* Jaune. 

Jaune: *throws the gun away and slaps Ruby across her face* The f*** is wrong with you?!

Ruby Ow.

Jaune: You really think I would let you steal my prey? My kill? After all the bull**** that b**** put me through. The f***!

Ruby: Jaune I-

Jaune: I had dreams. Dreams of when I have this b**** in my sights. As her life is now in the palm of my hands. Having her beg for forgiveness has I take what little breath she has from her now feeble hands. Oh God yes… 

Ruby: …. Um

Jaune: And have you learned nothing from your people? Penny? Pyrrha? Alyx?!

Ruby: Whoa Jaune don't be–

Jaune: Stop running off somewhere, prepared to die. We do not do 1 v 1. We jump people. It is the most effective means to win. You are not built for that kind of time. There is no shame in having a squad, especially for enemies.

Ruby: But-

Jaune: Like your uncle, he sucks. He has lost a one-on-one every time since Beacon. Winter, hit him. Tyrian poisoned him. Hazel could have ended his career.  Your uncle needed two other hunters to take Tyrian in. He even required Tyrian to fight Clover. Your uncle isn't about that action. 

Ruby: Well sheesh…

Jaune: Now you excuse me- *pulls out the sword* I will finish this.

Cinder: You weakling. You piece of crap. What are you going to do to me huh? Kill me. Don't make me laugh. You don't have the- *stab in her arm* Ah! *mouths is covered*

Jaune: Oh no Fall maiden, we are just getting started. 

Cinder: *scared*

Nora: Ruby, sorry we’re late but-

Cinder: *screams in agony* My legs! My legs!

RWBY: *shock*

Jaune: Nah-nah we ain't done yet. This is for Pyrrha.*beats Cinder down*

Cinder: *yells in pain* Help me! Help me! Ruby help me! Please!

NERO: *scared*

Jaune This one's for Penny! *Stab Cinder's chest*

Cinder:  *screams*

Jaune: *healing and stabbing Cinder repeatedly* No, you gonna feel this. Yeah. Yeah!!

NPRA: *Summer and Alyx are shocked while Pyrrha and Penny fist pump*

RHAW: *Glad they never met Jaune*

Adam: Oh it was good that I didn't try to fight him on the train.

Hazel: Even though I know I can beat him…. It scares me that he could have a chance of killing me himself. 

Ironwood: Oh so he finally learned. Thank God. 

Clover: Sir please-

Ironwood: We died because of these kids, Clover, I have a right to be like this.

Cinder: No. No. Not my eye. Not my last eye, please! *screams as her eye is pulled out*

Salem: *watching from a far* Oo she will die. Not my problem.

Jaune: *exiles* 

Cinder: *dead* 

Jaune: Finally. And Oscar.

Oscar: Um… yeah-yeah what is it?

Jaune: Are you Ozpin now?

Oscar: N-no. Nope. I'm still here.

Jaune: Your girl. Your problem. I am tired of being the third wheel. The seventh wheel really.

Weiss: I mean -

Jaune: Figure out what you want in life then we'll talk.

Emerald: Oh my God I have maiden powers. I was Cinder’s last thoughts. I-

Jaune: *readies his sword*

Emerald: Jaune-Jaune calm down. We are good. We are good. Best behavior.

Jaune: You damn right b****.

Emerald: Jesus what have you been through on that island?!

Jaune: Isolation is a b****!

Cinder: *in hell and curled up in a ball*

Rogue: How was your freedom as a slave?

Cinder: Shut up. And why are you here?

Hazel: Are you serious? He left you unsupervised, and in a family where you were put through extreme work conditions to survive. 

Adam: You were a slave and the only thing he did was train you. 

Roman: He didn't even get you out. He abandoned you. He is a monster.

[pernesophe]

Post Apocalyptic AU Kaji x Reader

Chapter 1: The Witch and the Vampire

(Minors, Ageless and Blank Blogs DNI)

WC: 6490. Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4 (links will be added as they are finished)

MDNI. TW for this post: fluff, angst, biting, blood drinking, past character deaths mentioned (Multi-part story, so TW for the whole series are fluff, angst, smut, character death(s)).

Synopsis: Set after an apocalyptic war where reader was born and raised in Furin centuries after the fall of society. Her town is the last patch of green in an otherwise barren world. Nobody knows what caused the war, just that a group of young heroes who were called "Bofurin" fought to save the town. Though records say there were no survivors, it is rumored one Bofurin managed to survive, and is still somehow alive all these years later. (This chapter is more to set the scene for the story).

Song: Playlist Post Kaji's Scent: Based on Brother Night by Apoteker Tepe Reader's Scent: Based on Basilica by Milano

Death is defined in many ways:

1. the action or act of dying or being killed; the end of the life of a person or organism.

2.the state of being dead.

3.the permanent ending of vital processes in a cell or tissue.

In this story a lot of people live, but a lot more die… and yet, with the definition of death provided and the knowledge that it occurs in the following story, it remains to be a fairly unknown concept. So, before beginning this story, I pose to you three questions:

What occurs after death?

Where does one go when they die?

Does existence persist?

“Y/N! Make sure you get more mint and rosemary while you’re out there. We’re gonna need to dry a ton for this winter - I can feel illness coming with the cold,” Kiyoko called out as you stepped through the door. With a cheerful wave and nod, you pulled the rickety wooden door of the hut shut and headed towards the edge of town.

The little town you had grown up in was a little damaged from the war, but what was left of the buildings made for a good home. It also didn’t hurt that the green overgrowth on the buildings and over the former streets were edible. Despite the barren grounds on the edge of the town, your little spot of green housed and fed the sizable community. Many elders credited the witches for coming out of hiding a few centuries prior and warding the town against the threats beyond the verdant foliage, but thanks to Kiyoko you were reminded often that your town has a different group to thank.

As you approached the abandoned building on the edge of town - rectangular with a tree sprouting out of the roof, and a high wall around the edge of the property that still had colorful drawings etched into the stone - you were reminded of the stories of Bofurin. The war had ended long before you were born, so you had no idea what caused the fall of society or why the world was how it was now. What Kiyoko did tell you was that your little community only survived because of Bofurin, a group of young men who defended the town during the height of the war. Unfortunately, none survived through the end.

Despite the lack of survivors, one woman - Kotoha Tachibana - carried on their story and the good they did. That’s why your little village still held a vigil every year on the day the last Bofurin died. A young man with locks split down the middle like the half moon, and dual toned eyes - one slate gray and the other amber. Sakura Haruka was his name, and it was rumored that Kotoha was inconsolable for months after his death. Proven by the fact that she wore black in mourning for the rest of her days. Even though it was recorded that Kotoha celebrated in the vigil as well, she also insisted that there was still one Bofurin remaining until her last breath. His name was never recorded, but it’s rumored that he still lived in the abandoned building on the edge of town.

Surveying the structure riddled with green overgrowth, you thought you caught a glimpse of a shadow pass by one of the dusty windows backlit by the setting sun. But you just chuckled and shook your head before pushing onward. Though a witch, even you had to draw a line at some myths and superstitions.

Ambling through the doorway devoid of any door, making your way up the stairs - stepping over roots as you climbed. Once on the third floor, a quiet cough drew your attention down the hall to your left. Immediately the hair on the back of your neck stood on end. This building had always been eerily silent until now.

“He-hello…?” you called out quietly. Hoping, praying, that no one responded.

A soft melodic voice, timid in nature, pricked Kaji’s ears towards the long forgotten sound of another person. Silently, he moved to the door of the classroom he’d decided to make home centuries ago. Peering out around a thick vine, he saw you. A mousy girl clad in knitted black tights, a red-orange floral patchwork tunic, and a marigold-yellow cardigan. A leather cord looped around your neck with a black stone pendant wrapped in copper wire hung low on your chest. Old, worn leather boots laced up to your ankles with gray wool socks peeking out the tops. A large, aged sack, the same worn brown as your boots, was slung over your shoulder. Notes of resinous camphor, fresh greens and incense clung to your clothes and hair. Just from your clothes and scent Kaji could tell you were a witch, and deduced you were probably coming to collect herbs from Umemiya’s garden. 

Releasing a soft sigh, the remaining Bofurin sadly smiled to himself knowing the old leader would have loved that his garden was still helping the town. Stepping back into the classroom, Kaji silently waited for you to pass on. The sun would be setting soon, and no one in town has stayed or come to visit the school at night in a long time. Not since Kotoha’s last visit. Resting the back of his head against the wall of the classroom, he sadly reminisced over his last remaining friend and just how long it had been since he’d spoken to anyone. 100 years? 150…? 200 years seemed too high, he concluded. 

“U-um,” a quiet murmur from the doorway tore Kaji from his rumination as his eyes snapped to yours. He hadn’t even heard you approaching - how could he be so careless? Silently he kicked himself before your gentle voice filled the room once more, “He-hello!”

This time you forced a bit more cheer into your tone and offered the silent stranger a smile. The man before you had medium-length blonde hair, cerulean irises, and a severe expression on his face. From the looks of the room, you could tell he’d been living here a while - alone. A bedroll was spread out in the corner with a standing lamp next to it, but other than that it seemed to be what the elders had described as a ‘classroom’. 

Even though his face was intimidating, with fists clenched by his sides, his eyes reflected a deep sorrow that tore at your heart. Eyeing his pale skin, incredibly aged clothes that you immediately recognized to be a Furin Uniform, along with the aroma of vaporous amber and rich marigolds you realized that he couldn’t be human. Not anymore at least.

“I’m Y/N,” offering softly as you took a slight step forward to not block the door, “what’s your name?” Inquiring hopefully as you tossed him another reassuring smile. The closer you drew, the more intense your scent became as creamy balsamic and crisp wood reminiscent of pencils enveloped his senses. Suddenly, he was struck with the memory of being in class with his friends just before heading out for patrol, when everyone was still… alive.

Overcome with a sense of melancholy and nostalgia, Kaji moved towards you with widened eyes and fangs poking out over his lips. Taking a slight step back, your heart hammered in your chest as you shook your head lightly and extended your hand to keep him back. In an instant he was sinking his fangs into your neck while gripping your upper arms bruisingly. Hints of rich, peppery smoke drifted from his jacket and tickled your nose while all you could do was squeak and tremble in his powerful hold. 

Kaji’s mind filled with the old days in Furin - patrol, Pothos, Kusumi and Enomoto - as the thick, warm liquid flowed over his tongue, soothing his parched throat. Now closer than before, he caught a comforting aroma of pure sweet-wood and velvety leather clinging to your skin. Then, an old yet familiar flavor cascaded over his taste buds that brought tears to his eyes. Peach Chupa Chups. All at once, he released your throat before collapsing - dragging you to the floor with him - his body violently racked with sobs. 

Stunned into silence, you sat there for several minutes as he clung to you with his face buried in your neck, shaking. Ever so slowly, you pulled your arms out of his hold and looped them around his neck - one hand gripping the back of his head gently while the other rubbed his shoulder blade. Softly, you hummed an old lullaby that Kiyoko would sing to the children during the dead of winter. Kaji instantly recognized the melody that had carried through the snow covered streets to the old abandoned school many winters in a row now. Gradually he quieted until he was just clinging to you like a life preserve, his face still buried in the crook of your neck where the comforting scent of creamy peach chupa chups flooded his senses.

“Ar-are you okay?” Whispering softly as you slowly released your hold around him. Gingerly, he pulled away from your neck to look you in the eye, his expression wrought with remorse. Parting his lips to respond, but a notch swiftly formed in his brow as nothing but squeaky air came out. Blinking rapidly at his perturbed expression that slipped into one of defeat, then you tilted your head and swept your hair away from your neck.

“Here,” urging softly as you leaned closer to him, but Kaji just stared back in disbelief. “You’re parched and can’t speak…” clarifying your reasoning as you leaned even closer, but he just shook his head lightly instead. “It’s okay - I’m a witch - I know a blood replenishing spell,” assuring him as you brought your neck inches away from his face. 

Kaji looked torn as his cerulean irises flicked from the blood still staining your neck, to your trusting gaze, and then back again. At this distance, your sweet-wood incense and crisply herbaceous essence was inescapable. Swallowing thickly, Kaji gently cupped your cheek so you could rest your head in his palm as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap. Drawing his mouth to the crook of your neck as he parted his lips, then he sank his teeth into your sensitive flesh before latching on once more.

The second your blood touched his tongue, Kaji’s grip on you tightened as he groaned against your neck greedily. Flavors he hasn’t tasted in God knows how long spilled over his taste buds. Fresh rosemary and sharp thyme clung to the red liquid first, quickly followed by delicate dairy like he’d find in sweet pastries from the Cactus Bakery. Then smoked, earthy cinnamon flooded his mouth the same as the liquor he’d drank with his friends at the start of the war. Finally, that old addicting flavor of Peach Chupa Chups swirled across his wet muscle as tears pricked his eyes. Kaji could feel his cheeks warming from your blood as he clung tighter to your smaller form and grunted deliriously into your neck.

At first you felt completely okay, but then as Kaji swallowed more of your blood the room began to spin. Your head felt heavy as you leaned fully into the palm of his hand. Heat pricked at you and sweat dewed across your skin as nausea pulled uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. The edges of your vision grew dark and fuzzy before you realized he wasn’t stopping.

“Hm, um-” your slurred speech finally broke him out of his trance as he felt the light tapping of your hand against his forearm. Immediately he detached from your throat and leaned back to see your incredibly pale face and half lidded eyes, a thin sheen of sweat covered your forehead. Your labored breathing caused your chest to rise and fall shallowly while a slight shivering overtook your body.

“N-no!” Kaji emitted a terrified gasp, while repositioning your shivering form so you were cradled in his lap as your head lolled against his chest. “Hey,” murmuring desperately as he began tapping your cheek lightly with his fingertips, “don’t pass out. Please don’t pass out,” he pleaded softly as your eyelids fluttered shut and then gradually cracked open again.

“Th-the spell! Hey, you need to do the spell,” his voice grew louder with urgency as he shook you gently. The sound of your weak heartbeat thundered in his ears tauntingly while primal fear stabbed through his own.

Blinking slowly, you nodded and reached up to grab the stone pendant around your neck. To Kaji’s relief, you brought it to your lips and whispered a foreign word he had never heard before, and then the color started returning to your face as the bite wound on your neck slowly closed. 

Humming softly, you tried to sit up but your face scrunched from still feeling light headed. Kaji gingerly helped you sit up, though he bore most of your weight on his chest, and looped an arm around your back to keep you upright. Ever so gently he cupped your cheek and tilted your head so he could look at your face clearly.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He asked quietly, cerulean irises swimming in guilt and remorse.

“Uh, mhm,” intoning just loud enough for his perceptive ears to catch it. Blinking slowly, vision slowly focused on his face as you tossed him a weak smile. “I’m okay… Wh-who are you by the way?” You inquired again, eyes flicking to the worn Furin button on the collar of his uniform. A pregnant pause passed as he seemed to be debating whether he should answer you or not.

“Kaji.” He finally responded. Instantly, your eyebrows shot up as you not so subtly waited for the rest of his name. Instead he just stared at you, stubbornly silent.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Kaji,” offering kindly and sitting up a bit more as the light headedness subsided. Despite bearing your own weight, he kept his arm securely around your back as he continued staring at you apprehensively. Tilting your head in question and peering at him, then you chirped out a cheery, “are you feeling better?”

“You taste like peach Chupa Chups,” he blurted out immediately as a notch formed in his brow at his own admission. Then his expression turned accusatory before he asked, “did you do that on purpose? Can witches do that?”

“Uh-um,” chuckling nervously as a crease formed in your brow as well. Slowly you shook your head as the mounting confusion showed clearly on your face. “N-no, we can’t… um, what are Peach Chupa Chups?” Inquiring with a curious titter as Kaji just blinked at you, completely perplexed. Silence filled the room for several tense moments - him regarding you suspiciously and you staring back obliviously - before his cracked voice broke it.

“They’re these… suckers,” his fingers twitched in your tunic at the word, but when you just looked confused he corrected himself. “Candies that I used to eat… all of the time,” he spoke slowly as tears collected along his lash line. Intaking a hissing breath, he then looked to the floor - trying to blink away his tears.

“Oh… I’m so sorry,” whispering softly as you searched for the proper words. Honestly, you couldn’t relate to having something all of the time like that, or what it would feel like to lose it. But it was evident that Kaji was deeply affected, so you gently placed your hand on his shoulder and squeezed comfortingly.

“Is there anything I can do?” You asked tentatively, and Kaji just looked at you with a mirthless twitch of his lips.

“Unless you can summon a millenia-old candy, then no, I don’t think so,” he said with a defeated sigh. Then he added with genuine gratitude reflecting in his eyes, “thank you though.”

“No problem,” whispering as you stared at his melancholic expression. Desperately you wanted to ask him if he was the last Bofurin, about the war, and everyone who fought to save your little town. But the look on his face told you it was better to leave it be.

Wordlessly the two of you sat like that in the darkening classroom for several minutes. You studied the fabled individual curled around you, and Kaji subtly inhaled your ambery oud-musk that enveloped him - knowing that you would be going soon. As dusk set upon the world outside, that moment finally arrived as you twitched in his arms and moved to speak. Kaji sadly met your gaze and awaited your goodbye.

“I-I have to go…” murmuring softly, your own heart breaking from his sorrowful nod. “But, um, would it be okay if I came back tomorrow?” Querying cautiously as you clasped your hands in your lap, twirling your thumbs nervously. Instantly, his whole demeanor brightened with surprise as he began bobbing his head without any hesitation.

Rising to your feet, a relieved smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you uttered a quiet goodbye and made your way to the doorway. Kaji just stared at you, a little dumbfounded, but with longing filled eyes. At the door, you turned back with a reassuring look as you promised you would be back first thing tomorrow evening. Silently, he nodded as you disappeared through the doorway, and then he listened to your quiet footsteps until you exited the building. 

The walk home was a little brisk with the coming autumn, but not cold enough to make you shiver. As you stepped over twisted roots and ducked under thick vines draped between abandoned buildings, you pondered what you could do for the lonely soul in that classroom. So deep in your rumination that when you walked through the wooden door of the hut you didn’t even hear Kiyoko speaking.

“Y/N? Did you get more mint and rosemary?” She asked again, regarding you with a worried expression from where she stood in front of the wood stove. Blinking slowly as you processed her words, and then you realized you hadn’t gone to the garden at all.

Guiltily admitting that you didn’t get them or any herbs while hanging your head, but Kiyoko didn’t chide you and simply asked what happened. She brewed a calming tea and sat on the floor with you at the short wooden table that dated back to before the war. There, over a cup of lilac-chamomile tea, you told her about your encounter with Kaji as you begged her not to tell anyone else throughout the entire tale.

At first she was too stunned to respond, but eventually agreed and urged you to tell her everything. So you told her as much as you could, even though you and Kaji hadn’t shared many words. Once finished, you made sure to convey to her that he wasn’t dangerous and seemed remorseful to have bitten you. Luckily, Kiyoko believed you so, taking a chance, you asked if she knew anything about “blood preserves”. A perplexed look crossed her face until you clarified that you meant “candies” - using the word Kaji mentioned before - hoping she’d recognize it.

Nodding slowly, she told you she might and went to find her grimoire. The room was quiet except for the flipping of pages, pausing at points to read more thoroughly, and then flipping once more. Several minutes passed like this until she stopped on a page with a tap of her finger and a triumphant aha! Returning to the table, she handed you the page with a prideful smile.

Gratefully, you thanked her and then asked if she knew of any elders who had pictures or writings from before the war. Kiyoko cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips before directing you to ask Mr. Sato, since he inherited everything from his ancestors who owned a popular store in Furin before the war. Again, you thanked her genuinely and promised that you would get the herbs tomorrow evening. You also told her that you wouldn’t be returning until the morning after and to not worry or send anyone looking for you. Apprehensive, she asked if you were sure, but you just smiled and nodded confidently in response.

After that, the conversation turned to town affairs. Mostly about the uptick in the birth rate and overall population, which was a major boon for the town, but also the fact that resources weren’t keeping up with growth. Kiyoko mentioned that the elders were becoming worried about what that would mean for future generations. Unfortunately you didn’t have any words to quell her stress, so you just gently took her hand and squeezed it. The two of you let the quiet consume the small hut before turning in for the night.

First thing the next morning you went straight to Mr. Sato and asked about anything he had from before the war. Surprised, but giddy to show anyone his memorabilia, he dragged you to the lower level of the old building he lived in to show you boxes upon boxes of magazines. After about 30 minutes of his excited babbling, he finally let you loose on the boxes and told you to let him know if you needed any help. It took you another 45 minutes of gingerly flipping through the aged pages until you came upon a printed word that you recognized. 

“Candies” was printed small in the bottom right hand corner of the page. In the center was a blown up picture of an oval, green candy on a stick. Printed at the top of the page, above the picture, were a sequence of letters that if you sounded out were similar to the word Kaji said. “Suckers.” 

The design seemed simple enough for you to replicate, so after that you sought out a few of the town’s children and asked them to help you find sticks. More importantly, ones that you could put food on, so not poisonous or toxic. Excited by the mystery of the task, they all pitched and then happily whittled their findings into long, smooth, uniform sticks. 

With all the materials gathered, you prepared to extract the final ingredient. Blood. More specifically, yours. Kiyoko was kind enough to help you collect enough to make about 30 suckers, and once they were set in their molds you not so patiently waited for them to dry. Multiple times Kiyoko shooed you out of the kitchen, and finally the hut altogether, and told you not to come back until the sun had set. As you ambled away from the hut she chided you about being so antsy that you were stressing her out.

So to pass the time and repay the kid’s hard work, you played a few games of hide and seek as well as sharks and minnows with them. As the sun began to dip behind rubbled buildings, casting long shadows from the vines over the streets, you promised to make them some treats soon while returning to the hut. Even though it was growing late in the year, you suspected there may be some late yields of berries that you could make suckers from as well. 

Kiyoko met you at the door of the hut with the suckers already wrapped up and your overnight bag in her hand. With a laugh she told you that she couldn’t let your antsiness back into the hut, lest she’d catch your stress for the rest of the night. Gratefully, you thanked her with a chuckle of your own and took both items before she shooed you off with a bright smile.

Frigid weather grew ever nearer as you approached the abandoned school. A harsh wind tore through your cardigan despite wrapping it tightly around yourself to brace against the swiftly approaching autumn. Though the mild season seemed to turn to winter quicker and quicker with each passing year. Soon you would have to break out the large Furin jacket that had been passed down to you from Kiyoko - she said it belonged to one of the Kings. Hiragi Toma.

Making your way through the doorway and up the gnarled, rooted stairs, you wondered how Kaji would feel about the town putting so many items from Bofurin to use. Halting at the top on the third floor, once again the building was eerily silent but this time you knew where to search for the fabled resident. 

Except when you stepped into the doorway of the classroom, you found it to be devoid of any sign of Kaji. The bedroll now gone, the small duffel bag strewn to the side replaced with papers shifting from a wayward breeze. Your heart wrenched as your eyes confirmed that all signs of Kaji had been swept away, though you weren’t sure why but you felt a lump forming in your throat and tears collecting along your lash line over someone you’d just met.

Hanging your head with a sorrowful sigh as you stepped backwards out of the classroom, but then a loud gasp escaped you as your back hit something incredibly hard and unmoving. Swiftly turning on your heel with raised fists to face the offending obstruction, but you were instead met with a pair of familiar cerulean irises.

“Kaji!” Crying out immediately as a wide smile spread across your face, the sound of your hammering heart echoed in his ears. He stared back in shock, mostly due to your expression that was mixed with excitement and… relief. “I thought you had left. Where’d all of your stuff go?” You asked with a worried tilt of your head, and again Kaji just blinked at your genuine concern.

“Uh,” his voice sounded a little hoarse before he cleared it with a cough behind his fist. “Winter’s coming, and the direction of the sun starts changing day by day, so I have to move a lot throughout autumn and spring to be safe.” He explained, and your gaze followed his gesture to one classroom over before coming back to his still regarding you with a mix of solace and disbelief. 

Nodding slowly as you took in all of the windows in the hallway, and the large ones in the classroom. For a moment you wondered why he wouldn’t just cover them, but as your gaze returned to his worn Furin jacket it dawned on you that it was probably familiar to him this way. Awkwardly, Kaji averted his gaze to the end of the hall with another cough behind his fist, which reminded you of the suckers. Quickly patting the pockets of your cardigan and tunic, drawing Kaji’s attention back to you with interest, and then you suddenly produced the wrapped bundle with a triumphant aha! Beaming brightly as you thrusted the wrapped package into his hands, but Kaji just stared at them for a moment before looking at you, completely perplexed.

“Open it!” You urged him with a laugh. Blinking slowly, then turned his attention back to the cloth in his hands as he slowly unwrapped it to reveal a slew of blood red candies on beige, whittled sticks. 

Suckers. 

All he could do was stare at them for a long, long moment. Then, ardently, he took one of the sticks between his thumb and index finger before bringing the candy to his lips and stuck it between his teeth. Iron was the first thing he tasted, then something freshly herbaceous, and finally creamy Peach Chupa Chup flooded his mouth. 

You observed the sucker pass his lips closely as his eyes fell shut, and then his brow creased in recognition before smoothing out completely with an expression of unbridled satisfaction. When his eyes cracked open to meet your gaze again, they were misty and filled with deep, nostalgic longing. Tentatively, you threw him a tiny smile - hoping that you did something right by him, instead of making him sadder. Instantly, he stifled a sob - trying to swallow it down - as he was reminded of all the times the townspeople offered him food and sweets with a grateful smile. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Exclaiming as you shifted your weight from foot to foot, having no idea how to comfort him. His face crumpled as he just shook his head at you and choked on his words. After several seconds of the hall being filled with echoing chokes and sniffles, you swallowed thickly and stepped forward. 

Kaji stilled as he felt your arms wrap around his torso and squeeze him tightly. Words were never something that came easily to you in these situations, but you had some experience with the town’s children. Whenever they would cry and couldn’t speak about it, you’d just hug them as tight as you could until they were able to speak again. So that’s what you did - hugged Kaji with all of your strength while rubbing his back comfortingly while softly humming the same tune from the day before. With each intake of breath, your lungs were filled with his essence of wood smoke, copal incense, and bitter marigolds.

Eventually the trembling from his sobs subsided and he was stuck standing in your embrace, utterly stunned. Peering down, he had to stifle a laugh at your scrunched face pressed against his chest to counter the melodic lullaby you were humming into his jacket; accentuated by you clinging onto him with all your might. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around you as well, the lullaby stopping short in your throat, as he buried his nose into the top of your head while crushing you into his chest.

“Thank you for the suckers,” susurrating into your hair as his eyelids fell shut. Several minutes passed of you remaining perfectly still while Kaji held you close, breath puffing into your hair rhythmically.

To him you smelled like any other witch that has wandered through: cedar soaked in cypriol oil, clouded in labdanum incense - reminiscent of the old candlelit rituals that would be held by the stone walls of the school. But underneath he kept catching whiffs of creamy, sweet peaches - the aroma that drew him to you and filled his mind with dreams of the old days. The aroma that kept weaving visions of you into those same dreams with a sense of comforting nostalgia he didn’t quite understand. 

Eventually, you felt your legs going to sleep from standing for so long, so you peered up at him cautiously. Kaji jumped slightly as your hair shifted against his nose, and when he cracked his eyes he was met with yours just inches away. From here he could feel the warmth of your breath fanning against his neck and jaw. Swallowing thickly, the sucker clinked against his teeth, as he gradually released you though he didn’t step away - your body heat still radiated through the gray sweatshirt to his skin underneath.

“Um,” murmuring as you shifted your weight awkwardly under his unblinking stare. “I hope it’s okay - I brought an overnight bag,” declaring as you held up the burlap sack, “to stay the night…” you quietly trailed off as Kaji’s eyes widened to an impossible degree. 

Before you could tell him that it was okay if not, or that you could even sleep in a different classroom, he nodded his head stiffly. Grinning wide, you started to ask him where you should put your stuff, but he grabbed your hand tightly and led you to the classroom he gestured at earlier. To your surprise, he didn’t let go until you were settled across from him on his bedroll, and when he finally did his eyes stayed glued to your hand for a moment before meeting your sympathetic gaze. Everything about him - from his eyes, to his expression and demeanor, to the clothes he wore and the place he resided - screamed loneliness. 

“Did you bring anything to sleep on?” He finally spoke, gaze drifting to your bag that couldn’t possibly hold a bedroll, then back to your bright red face.

“Well, um, kind of…” you laughed out sheepishly. “But I don’t really sleep on a bedroll at home - me and Kiyoko sleep on some old rugs that have lasted. So I just brought one that would fit,” explaining quickly as you opened the sac to reveal a printed mat that would maybe fit about half of your body. Kaji just stared at it incredulously for a moment before shooting you a deadpan look.

“You can take my spot,” he stated with a nod to the bedding the two of you were currently sitting on. Your mouth fell open as a hot, prickly sensation crawled over your body.

“Absolutely not! I can’t take your bed.” Arguing with a vehement shake of your head, before you continued seriously, “I sleep on the floor all the time anyway, so I’m used to it, and I just showed up without any real invitation. It would be rude of me to take it,” finishing your point with a decisive nod of your head. The corner of Kaji’s mouth twitched at your change in tone and the determined notch in your brow.

“Then we’ll share it,” Kaji conceded, despite the subtle twitch of his lips, his expression had returned to deadpan at this point. Before you could argue any further, he smoothly added, “you did show up without any real invitation. It would be rude of you not to take the sleeping arrangements offered.” 

All protests died on your tongue as you slowly closed your mouth and relented with a small nod. Though there was barely any change in his expression, you did catch a triumphant gleam in his cerulean eyes and your heart swelled at the tiny change in his affect. The two of you sat there quietly as the dusk turned dark while the classroom became shadowy. Eventually it was difficult to see Kaji at all, and when you heard a bang from the roof you jumped with a high pitched squeak.

Click, click, click. Suddenly the room was bathed in soft yellow light from a lamp in the corner where Kaji now stood. Breathing a sigh of relief, you watched as he settled on the bedding once more - your expression worried and questioning.

“Animals,” he explained after a moment - finally catching on to your silent inquiry. Instantly your eyes lit up with intrigue. It’s been years since any animals other than humans have been recorded in town. Honestly, it was assumed most died out centuries ago. “I guess you all don’t really get the chance to see them - most turned nocturnal a few hundred years after the war. Just generally safer for them I guess,” he elaborated, satiating your intrigue. 

“How big?” Leaning forward, bringing notes of sweet herbs and warm incense to his nose, as your eyes widened with excitement. Kaji smiled softly at you, relishing in the genuine human connection he’s missed for… God knows how long at this point. Then, he went on to tell you that it was mostly small animals: birds, rodents, some insects that have survived, and on occasion larger animals (mostly in the winter): deer, coyotes, the occasional bear. The latter, he explained that he’d scare them away from the paths that lead to town, but still let them eat what they needed.

You listened intently, eyebrows shooting up at the mention of bears, and your entire face lit up when he mentioned seeing a butterfly only a few summers back. Seeing Kaji being so open, you took the opportunity to ask about the old town, and he was gracious enough to share. 

He told you about how the town was kind of dangerous back in the day, because of turf wars between people, and how that led to the creation of Bofurin. You observed his face light up and eyes become distant as he regaled the times he had with his friends, even naming and telling you about some of them. Most you already knew from the records - Umemiya, Hiragi, Enomoto, Kusumi - but it was different hearing about them first hand. When he told you about how the townspeople used to depend on them, and celebrated them for protecting the town by giving them treats, you started to understand his reaction from before.

Eventually, as Kaji’s stories petered out, he finally asked what he’s been most worried about. How is the town doing now?

Throwing him a kind smile, you told him everything you could. First you told him about the elders, most of whom were designated to keep and care for the items passed down from Bofurin members. Though he looked happy about it, you still didn’t mention the piece you inherited - Hiragi Toma’s Furin jacket. Next, you mentioned how things were scarce sometimes, but for the most part you all managed, and how the population has actually been growing as of late. He seemed overjoyed by that fact, so you were careful when sharing some of Kiyoko’s fears about resources not keeping up with the new growth. 

Kaji looked perturbed over this and asked why you all couldn’t make more - assuming that the greenery was due to the witches’ magic. With a sad shrug you explained that magic couldn’t fix everything, and that the greenery was a bit of its own miracle that the witches couldn’t really take credit for. At your admission Kaji seemed confused, but also maybe a little happy that it wasn’t the witches’ doing. Though you didn’t ask him outright, after a quiet moment he shared that the original garden was Umemiya’s that was started at least half a century ago at this point. He didn’t know how or why it took over the town, but he was glad that it did because he knew Umemiya would be really happy about it still helping the town. 

“That makes me really happy too,” murmuring earnestly, which earned you a surprised glance from Kaji. “I’m really grateful to you, and the rest of Bofurin. None of us would be here if you all hadn’t fought for us,” you said genuinely with a firm nod. Kaji simpered despite his gruff demeanor before nodding as well, then the bright white moon caught his eye through the window. He hadn’t noticed how high it was in the sky until now.

“Did you sleep at all before coming here?” He asked as his gaze cut sharply to yours. Again, you sheepishly laughed and shook your head. Kaji rolled his eyes at you before moving to pull back the blanket.

“It’s already 3am - go to sleep,” he instructed, his tone slightly admonishing but lacked any true malice. Tittering softly, you crawled up the bedroll and slipped under the blanket. Kaji laid the blanket over you, and then began to settle on top of the bedding next to you.

“What are you doing?” Demanding as you sat up, untucking the blanket completely, Kaji just blinked at you before gesturing at the bed.

“Going to sleep. Like you should be doing,” he admonished you, but his cerulean irises couldn’t hide the amusement from the look of disbelief plastered on your face.

“You said we would share,” arguing petulantly which did elicit a chuckle from Kaji - he didn’t realize you had so much personality. “This isn’t sharing.” Defending your point as you tugged gently on the blanket that was over you and under Kaji for emphasis.

“Do witches not care about their virtue in this century?” Kaji posed with an arched brow. To his credit, he was able to maintain a cool facade as your face turned three shades redder while your mouth opened and closed like a guppy.

“That’s not it!” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. Kaji stifled a titter at your reaction - it reminded him of Kotoha or Tsubaki. Then your shoulders drooped slightly as you threw him an earnest look before tentatively adding, “it’s just getting close to winter… I thought you’d be cold.”

Kaji was taken aback by your genuine nature, and was unable to hide the surprise on his face - brows raised, wide eyes, lips slightly parted from speechlessness. Quietly he relented with a curt nod as he climbed under the blanket, immediately you tucked yourself into his side, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into his chest. Kaji laid there for a moment before hesitantly wrapping his arms around you as well, pulling you into his embrace. 

Notes of piney-amber incense and earth-smoked musk enveloped your dreams as sleep swiftly claimed you. Kaji laid there silently as your breathing slowed within a few minutes, hot breath puffing into his sweatshirt and warming his chest. That crisp, pencil-like wood scent, accompanied by sweet cinnamon clung to you and filled the space with your soft exhalations. An indescribable amount of time had passed since the last time he had felt such warmth, and even though it had been comfortingly shared between friends, it had also been short lived. But this was different - it felt inexhaustible and safe. 

When Kaji finally drifted off to sleep, his dreams were set in old Furin - patrolling with his friends, but oddly enough he kept catching glimpses of you. Never directly, just a swish of your tunic as you turned a corner, or a flick of your hair through the window of Pothos but when he looked you were gone. Near the end he was certain you were there, somewhere in town, as he desperately trailed after your scent through the streets and down alleyways. He woke before he could find you in his dreams, but his body sagged with relief the moment he found you still sleeping soundly in his arms.

Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4 (links will be added as they are finished)

Master List (I have no rights to these characters, the works they come from, or the art/screenshots/manga panels used in this post. Screenshots taken from pinterest or google, so if you know the creator please lmk! Divider is from @sweetmelodygraphics )

Tag List: None so far, but lmk if you would like to be added for this series or my other Wind Breaker Works!

[soobrat]

fuck up my life; hjs

milestone celebration masterlist

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ pairing; han jisung x afab!reader

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ words; 14.8k

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ genre; angst, smut, fluff

˗ˏˋ🎧´ˎ˗ warnings; descriptions of pain inflicted by extreme cold, SLOOOOW burn, mentions of extramarital affairs, cunnilingus, PIV, passionate sex, multiple reader orgasms, unprotected sex (leave me alone)

↻ ◁ || ▷ : Two things: my insistence on using Loona members means there is a character named Hyunjin in a skz fic who isn't skz Hyunjin. I was going to change it but I feel like it's not that hard. She's a girl, she's not Hwang Hyunjin, it's that simple Also, this is a fic that references a real place with a real culture and real people. NOTHING I write in this fic reflects how I feel about the people who live in Jeju or how Jeju actually is. It is COMPLETELY fictional and had nothing to do with anything I've witnessed about Jeju. (and yeah I changed up the little banner, I liked the idea of a little moodboard.)

act iii ➻ run

Winter 2025

“To the bride!” 

To say the group sat in front of Jisung were rowdy would be an understatement. They shout and laugh, effusing over the lucky couple’s merriment. Your husband looks to you, drowning in layers of white fabric, and raises his glass. The group doesn’t even try to be contained to their booth, spilling out of their seats onto the floor only to pile back up into the booth again. A waitress comes over and stammers a request for you guys to pipe down. None of you listen, in fact, you look over at the waitress with a twinkle in your eye as you gather her hands to her confusion.

“I’m a married woman now.” You say dreamily. As the cheering from your crowd gets louder, the waitress retracts her hands and retreats through an “Employees Only” door. Jisung clenches his glass, his eyes dead set on your figure. What he did to Jiwoo was for her sake, but it was also for you. Yet here you are. You’d rather traumatize yet another sad sap than just wait for him. Jisung is flogged with bitterness against his better judgment. He should know better than to accept this as reality, but his heart won’t listen to his head.

“We’re going to have to ask you all to leave.” A man speaks to Jisung’s right. He keeps his eyes on you. 

“Seriously?! It’s my wedding day!” You cry out, hoping the manager or whoever will understand how much heartbreak he’s causing you. 

“You guys are disrupting the other patrons. If you don’t leave, I’ll have to call the police.” The man remains calm, even offering these punks courtesy by lowering his voice. Jisung’s eyelids twitch, his eyes burning with his insistence to keep them on you.

“Sir, have you never had fun? Let loose? Sometimes rules are stifling, you know. Maybe you just haven’t met the right people to–”

The glass he’s been clenching is launched to the ground before the motion is even registered in his mind. Red drains from his vision as in one swing, all his frustration is emptied. He assumes everyone is looking at him, but he only sees you. Or… not you.

The woman looks shocked, a little scared. Suddenly not so enthused about her rowdy marriage celebration. Jisung is finally unclenched from his fixation, looking around the room at the confused and shocked faces. His hand dives into his pockets, pulling a couple withered bills coated in something. He drops them on the table haphazardly, rushing from his table and out of the door.

He slides in his car and slams the door shut. Heaving, he settles back into his chair. He knew that wasn’t you. He does this every fucking time. He swallows hard, his hands clumsily jam the key into the ignition.

He pulls into the complex’s parking lot and opens the sun visor. His key ring drops into his lap but his attention lingers on his reflection and what the couple and their group must’ve seen. His patchy facial hair, the turbulent mop on his head, eyes red with irritation surrounded by dark circles. Not much has changed, he thinks, despite a year passing.

Spring 2024

“What was the occasion?” The consignment shop owner asks absentmindedly, glancing at Jisung after he doesn’t get an answer. Jisung gapes at him, brushing his sweaty palms off on his pants. 

“A lot of men sell their suits after their weddings,” he starts again, rubbing the material of the suit between his fingers, “women are a little more sentimental about this stuff–”

“How much? Um, h-how much for it?” Jisung interrupts the owner’s chuckling. The owner looks up again, this time he seems to take in Jisung’s disheveled appearance and his agitated state. He doesn’t comment on the obvious, just offers Jisung a tight smile.

“This was tailored to you, correct?”

Jisung exhales tightly, rubbing his forehead. He didn’t even think about that. “Yeah, but–”

“Then I’m sorry, it’ll slice the price down.”

Jisung lets out a heavy sigh, the stress making him want to lay on the floor and yell. 

“I think… maybe around one thousand.”

“One thousand?” Jisung’s mood immediately flips. Both men look at each other, puzzled. 

“This is designer, right? Cucinelli?” The owner asks like he’s confused why he even has to.

“I-I don’t…” He didn’t buy it. His father in law did. “I’ll take it.”

The owner beams, looking happy to have such a nice piece for sale. “Would you like it in cash?”

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

He counts the cash as he thinks over his plan once more. He has more than enough for the ticket. When he gets there… maybe he’ll stay at a motel? Is it a walkable city? He can hear Jiwoo now, scolding him for not planning this out. He could have gone about this all in a different way. It doesn’t matter. And Jiwoo… she’ll be hurt now, but she’ll be better off this way. And he’ll figure it out. He has to.

“Next!” 

Jisung’s eyes dart up to the person behind the desk before gathering his cash. “Yes um, one way to… Jeju?”

“Sir. The next train from here to Jeju doesn’t come until tomorrow.” She responds in vexed monotone. The look on the employee’s face expresses exactly what Jisung is thinking. But wondering why he didn’t look this up beforehand won’t change the fact that he still has to wait. 

“O-of course! I’ll um…” Jisung gives up on trying to look less stupid and skitters away. As he shuts the door to his motel room behind him, a strong fear that he’ll be staying there forever crops up. He shakes it away for now. He can’t think that way for the sake of his sanity. 

The next morning he comes back to the train station with his tail tucked between his legs. 

“The next train will come at noon.” This employee was much more chipper as she delivered bad news. Jisung sighs, having gotten up at 6 am for no reason. It’s not like he was sleeping much anyway. He can brazenly blame his lack of sleep for his lack of preparation yet again, but the twisting in his stomach didn’t lie. He sits on the many wooden benches that resembled pews in the waiting area. Even sitting on them was eerily familiar. His body curves over, making it harder for his older self like always with the way he contorts his spine. Before he can examine his watch, he catches a glimpse of his warped appearance around the metal frame. It holds him, the warping doing nothing to hide how tired he looked. He’ll have to shave soon. Does he have a razor?

He’s ruining his life.

The thought booms, shaking him. Jisung bites down hard on his lip. No matter how much he tries to distract himself, the feeling won’t go away. 

“Train to Daegu?” A worker taps Jisung’s shoulder and jolts him awake. Jisung makes groggy noises, frazzled as he glances around before shaking his head. “If you’re taking the train to Daegu, start heading to track seven now!” The worker yells as he walks past the benches. Jisung hadn’t even noticed himself go to sleep.

He glances at his watch again. 10:35. Great. He readjusts against the solid wood before crossing his arms. 

“Train to Jeju?” The worker jolts Jisung awake once again. Once he gains his barings, he hurriedly gathers his duffle bag full of haphazardly purchased clothing. “Head to track 8, sir.” The worker nods at him before continuing down the walkway. 

As Jisung ventures between the trains he keeps seeing Jiwoo’s face. One of the train’s horns blows, making him jump. Even as he boards the train and makes his way to his seat, he sees that face she made when he looked back. The sheer horror and disbelief. He clenches his fists against his legs. No. It’s what needed to happen. Getting married would have been no better. His lengthy sigh is only a facade of relaxation. He shuts his eyes and leans back.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Winter 2025

Being in a fresh place with fresh faces, it would be better for you. That was the plan, at least. This house is perfect. The architecture is gorgeous, everything you dreamed about. That didn’t change the fact that it was a reminder. Nothing about the soothing sound of the waves crashing against the shore eased the sting. You explain all of this to your psychologist.

“That makes sense to me. Of course you’d still feel that way.” says Dr. Ha Sooyoung, who was surprised but intrigued to hear you weren’t married or engaged. Usually people who live there either immediately settle down or hightail it out of there according to her. Her telling you this worried you, you wondered if she was unequipped to handle such a trainwreck. You were hilariously wrong. “Who should we start with today?” She looks up at you, smiling to prompt you to answer. You still hesitate, knowing she doesn’t frame it this way to embarrass you. It still does.

“J-Jisung.” You want to disappear as soon as his name leaves your mouth. You bite your lip to keep it from quivering. 

“Okay.” There is no hint of a foul disposition in her voice. She smiles pleasantly. “I noticed we don’t talk about Minho as much.”

You shake off your self-pity and nod. “I feel better about him, I think.”

“I think that was thanks to you. Your last words to him were very thoughtful and mature.” She gives you props, seeming genuinely impressed. You nod more emphatically. 

“I find that I mostly want to know if he’s doing alright. I know he’s out now, but I try not to overstep. I just… I really hope he isn’t blaming himself.” You undercut your worry with a dry laugh. You wince, wondering why you feel like you have to filter your emotions around her after all this time.

“From what I understand, Minho really cares about you. I don’t think it’s just contained to romance or labels. He saw you, a person, at your absolute lowest and didn’t like what he saw. You said that when you brought it up he didn’t like it, right?” You confirm, letting Sooyoung take you for a ride through her thought process. It used to make you nervous, always thinking she was going to call you a piece of shit. At least you know better now.

“I bet it’s because it was a hard thing for him to see and think about. But I can guarantee you coming into that visitation area and calmly letting him go helped immensely. He doesn’t have to worry if you’re okay anymore. I think it’s time you stop worrying as well.”

You settle into the plush armchair across from her, feeling wrapped in a blanket of serenity. You smile at Sooyoung, the blanket slipping once you remember something.

“Sooyoung, will you be honest with me?”

“Always. What is it?”

“If I go back to Jisung… would that be cruel to Minho?” You almost don’t want to look at her, but you do. You can tell by the look on her face that she isn’t going to sugar coat it.

“I’ll ask you a question. How would you describe the state of you and Minho’s relationship?”

You laugh unintentionally, catching yourself shortly after and covering your mouth. “I’d say that’s long over.” You express after calming.

“Well, it has been about two years so I think that’s a natural take away. I’d say you two are at the position where maybe each other’s decisions shouldn’t bother the other too much.”

You decide to sleep on that. The nightmare you have that night makes you think sleeping on it might’ve been a bad idea. Once you finally rip yourself from your unconscious you whip out your phone. You instinctively text her at this point, letting her know that at least this time you did manage to fall asleep.

Ha Sooyoung: That’s great to hear. Try to get some more rest, watch something that’ll make you feel better. Text me in the morning.

You’ve deduced that that’s her nice way of telling you to stop texting her at 2 am. You imagine that it’s times like this people would recommend a diary. You throw on a kdrama, yet another decision that ends up screwing you. The kdrama you chose was one about a wife who takes her husband for granted and ends up regretting it upon hearing about her declining health. Your brain rewards you with a hazy dream where you’re bedridden and completely paralyzed. Watching everyone in your life slip away. You force yourself awake once more and decide to start your day at 7 am.

Waking up early was never your thing. You have passed on many employment opportunities based on how early they wake you. So in theory you’d be pissed you were pulling yourself from the comfort of your bed to make breakfast. But Sooyoung has taught you the importance of positive thinking. You used to think that was bullshit that people who didn’t have problems claimed was life changing. You have noticed a difference, though. 

Even when a couple pieces of eggshell fall into the pan and you burn yourself trying to get it, it doesn’t get to you. You smile to yourself once you notice. You take time with your breakfast bagel, savoring it. You grimace once you find the shells, but it doesn’t make the sandwich taste worse. You sigh, enjoying the brief serenity despite knowing it was going to expire. The nightmares still haunt you. It’s as if your brain doesn’t realize they’re not real yet. You sit with them like Sooyoung would want you to. Is this your mind expressing that you’re regretful? Obviously you are, there’s nothing more you can do now. You’ve spoken to Minho and Jiwoo and said your piece. You were a little unstable when Jiwoo contacted you, but what you said was true. Dwelling on it is only going to make it worse.

You’re already alone, anyway.

The final piece that you swallow is far too big. It climbs slowly down your throat, hurting the entire way down. You beat at your chest as if it’ll help, clenching your face hard. 

Just a minor setback, you think as you pick out your outfit for work. You found a stunning boutique in Jeju-si at the end of last year. You originally planned to go there to shop but saw they were hiring. They don’t give you a dress code, so you grab your favorite shirt. It defaulted to your favorite after you sold most of your clothing for extra cash. It’s a baby blue cashmere sweater. The beaded neckline and buttons on each sleeve were aesthetically pleasing, but the thickness and quality fabric made it ideal for the cold weather. You immediately feel soothed as you smooth your hands down the soft fabric.

As you stride down the sidewalk, you can’t help feeling extra cozy in your coat and scarf. You enter the boutique with a genuine smile. The usual patrons were young couples, old couples, and half of a couple looking for a gift. This would be the first time since working here that you saw a group of women your age. They looked like they shopped here, in fact you think you recognize a couple of them. Their vibe screamed polished but ultra-feminine. As they coast from rack to rack you become a fly on the wall. You listen as close as you can, spectating their movements and chatter. For a moment you imagine yourself with them, laughing derisively at the thought.

When they finish they make their way to the front. You notice one of the women staring at your shirt. Suddenly self-conscious, you tug and pull at it as if your actions will make it imperceptible. 

“Your shirt…” The woman speaks, slightly taller than the others. After she gets her fill she switches her attention to your face, priming a question. You swallow hard, wishing you could teleport out of there.

“Where did you get it? It’s gorgeous!” The women around her make comments and noises in agreement. Suddenly shifting back to your previous content, you smile wide. 

“I–! Um… I believe it was Khaite?” Again you’re met with rousing praise. 

“How beautiful! I don’t mean to be weird, but can I feel? I heard Khaite is popular for their cashmeres.” The woman speaks again, one of her friends seconding the request. You shrug as if you’re not absolutely loving the attention. You extend both arms and the woman reaches out before retracting her hand. She looks at you apologetically. 

“I feel like I should introduce myself first. I’m Hyunjin,” she starts before pointing to each person around her, “this is Kahei, Gowon, Jinsoul, and Yerim.” They greet you as each of their names are called. You greet them back, offering your name despite not being prompted to. You feel desperate suddenly, like you’re being met with a prime opportunity. Hyunjin returns to your sweater, brushing her fingers against the fabric. Gowon joins in, both of them remarking on the quality in shock. You can’t help beaming. How could you when the only consistent interactions you have are ones you pay for or are being paid for. Also, you feel like you’re finally hitting it off with everyone who hated you in high school.

The girls brief you that– as long as you’re okay with it– they like to have their first meeting with a new friend at said friend’s place. You agree, making a mental note to storm through your house like the Tasmanian devil to get it spotless. You throw on the outfit you hurriedly picked out at your store before looking in your mirror. The dress itself is lovely, of course, but looking at it on you makes you sick. Looking at yourself at all in the mirror does. All you see is every moment of preparation to inflict pain on someone who did nothing but love you. You shake the thought away, ears perking up at the sound of knocking on the door.

You take a few deep breaths, hoping it will offset the nausea. You plaster on a brave face as you open the door. The girls greet you excitedly before admiring your home. Gowon especially, who enters the home a lot more enthusiastically than the others. In a feat you thought impossible, Gowon’s eyes get larger. 

“I can’t believe it! This is the house! Me and my husband were just looking at this before it was sold. What are the odds?”

“Really?” You remark, matching her disbelief. “That’s crazy. Shocking odds, I’m sure.” You and her laugh. Each girl twirls around to get a good look at the house and your pride hides a deeper emotion that you push down.

“Oh! Please, have a seat! Make yourselves at home.” You urge as you guide them to your living room.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Gowon wiggles her eyebrows at you, hinting at something else. You stare at her for a moment as it hits you. You’re not sure what you’re escaping from quite yet, but your mind shouts desperately that this is your way out.

As the women settle in you notice something. “Where are my manners? I didn’t even check if you guys were hungry. I’m not much of a cook but we could order something.” You say frantically as you wipe your sweaty palms off on your dress. The girls look at each other, some announcing that they’re not hungry and others that they could eat.

“Anything you guys have in mind?” You ask as you take out your phone.

“Hmmm, I’ve been craving Chinese.” Jinsoul offers. Your thumbs freeze over your phone. The other girls agree, even the ones who said they weren’t hungry. So you place everyone’s order including yours. The one that you had offhandedly mentioned to Jisung. The one that he had ready for you before you ran out. Once the food is delivered and is set out on your dining room table it really sets in. You know what Sooyoung told you, but that doesn’t make you feel any better at this moment. You can’t look back at that memory. Especially not with the regret you’re feeling.

“So anyway, tell us about yourself.” Kahei diverges from the conversation topic you weren’t paying attention to. The girls turn their attention accordingly, tuning in to the grand story they seem to be expecting. 

“Yeah… tell us why you look like you’re always whimsically reminiscing about your husband who’s lost at sea.” Hyunjin raises her eyebrows like she knows you know exactly what she’s talking about. You choke out a squawk of a laugh in shock.

“Wh… what?!” You shout with a tinge of fear. You subconsciously cross your arms over your chest to prevent from telling on yourself anymore. The girls break up about the entire display, falling over the counter. You can’t help but genuinely laugh yourself, and you actually know why it’s funny.

“No um,” you gather yourself, eyebrows tightening at the fact that you’re going to admit any part of this, “I just… I’ve been eyeing this house for a while. Alone.” You bail out despite tacking that on at the end and making yourself suspicious.

“So no husband lost at sea.” Hyunjin playfully confirms while pointing at you with narrowed eyes.

“No.” You quickly reply. You laugh nervously amongst the sea of genuine giggles, eyeing everyone to monitor what else you might’ve let on.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“On saturday, he ate through one piece of chocolate cake–” Heejin freezes when someone knocks on the door. She looks at Mihee excitedly, causing Mihee to gasp. “I wonder who that is!”

Heejin grunts as she raises Mihee off her lap and sets her on the ground. She hurries to the door, opening it to confirm that both of her suspicions are correct. There he is, his hands too full to turn the doorknob. 

“Ji-Ji!!” Mihee exclaims as she runs to him. Jisung laughs awkwardly as she hugs his waist.

“Hello.”

Heejin rolls her eyes at the awkward display before prying Mihee off him. “Alright, go sit back down and wait for mommy.”

“Did you bring ice cream?” Mihee asks, already whining. 

“Hey! What did I tell you about asking him for things when I already said no?” Heejin maintains her firmness despite her daughter’s pouting. “Go sit by the couch, come on.” 

Jisung watches in awe as Heejin guides her daughter back to the floor by the couch. She never seems too harsh or too soft when it comes to Mihee. It’s like she always knows exactly what to say and what to do. He imagines Jiwoo would be the same as a mother. Maybe parenting that good comes with being a good person. 

He sets the groceries on the counter, releasing his grasp on them slowly as something distracts him. He moves to the stove, shocked by how shiny it looks suddenly.

“I cleaned it.” Heejin says from right behind him. He jolts and turns to face her. His shock morphs to slight disappointment. 

“I told you I’d handle that when I got home.”

“And I told you you didn’t have to. Wasn’t cleaning the rest of the house enough?” She asks rhetorically as she starts putting away the groceries. He just closes his mouth, knowing he’s not going to stop her. If it was up to him, she wouldn’t have to worry about anything but taking care of her daughter. It’s the least he could do.

Summer 2024

If he just focuses on one task it’ll be less overwhelming. He needs a new ID. For a new ID, he needs proof of address. For proof of address, he needs to find a place to live instead of couchsurfing. To find a place to live to acquire important documents, the landlords require said documents. He clenches his steering wheel, waiting for a hit. He stares at the app as if one will come faster.

A knock on his window scares him. He looks at the owner of the restaurant who’s parking lot he’s in.

“I told you you can’t sleep here!”

Exasperated, Jisung rolls down his window. “I’m not! I’m just–”

“Get out of here before I call the police!”

Jisung grits at the owner as they walk away before starting his engine. Maybe driving around will help him find someone. Surely enough, the rideshare app rings out. He hurriedly accepts the request, stabilizing his poorly hoisted up phone.

When he pulls up, a woman and man stumble in. He eyes them in the mirror, knowing just by the look of them that they aren’t going to tip. He begrudgingly starts the engine.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung drives aimlessly through the city as if something will just jump out at him. He can’t find a couch to sleep on tonight and his eyelids are getting heavy. He pulls into the first parking lot he sees. He’ll just get a little shut eye while the parking lot’s still full. It’s either that or causing a car accident. He wakes up to a stiff back and the sun in his eyes. He blinks away the burning sensation, catching a glimpse of someone unlocking the building he’s parked out front of. They glance in his direction and Jisung prepares to be shouted at. However, the older man just smiles stiffly and waves at him. Jisung hesitantly waves back. He checks his phone to see what time it is. The cheap screen is useless in even the smallest amount of sun so he cups his hand above it. 12:33 pm.

He steps out of his car, stretching until all the joints that locked up were sufficiently popped. He happens to catch a glimpse of the sign when he cracks open his eyelids. He’s parked outside of a bar, and judging by the owner flipping the sign, one that opens relatively early. Curious, he steps into the establishment. It has the stereotypical pool table, the bar, and a few places to sit and eat. It has that cozy, rustic feel that most modern bars try to replicate. Jisung hesitantly sits at the bar.

“Um, thank you.” Jisung says sheepishly. The owner cocks an eyebrow at him.

“What? You sleeping out there? You’re not bothering me. Just don’t park in my spot.” His bluntness makes Jisung reconsider his approach. “Can I help you?” He’s mixing a little impatience in now and Jisung immediately takes the hint.

“S-somaek. Please. Sir.”

The man grunts before grabbing a bottle and a can from under the bar. He slides both to him. “Nine dollars.”

“Oh sir, I don’t plan on drinking this whole thing. Can I just have a glass–”

“Nine dollars.”

Jisung sits for a moment, wondering if he should leave and never come back. Then he’d risk losing a solid place to sleep. Jisung presents his card to which the man presents a small Square terminal. He takes his drinks and a glass to a table in the corner of the bar. One bottle and can turn to three by the time patrons come and go. He finds himself comforted by the chaotic environment. As he gains more of a buzz he feels himself levitating. He sees you as his eyes flutter closed.

Day and night he spends his time at the bar. The owner seems less annoyed now that he’s a paying regular. People come and go, clouding his brain satisfyingly with the noise. Some even bump into him, apologizing despite his indifference. Fall comes as his health declines. For once the owner protests his presence, complaining about the smell. He physically kicks Jisung out, sending him tumbling out the door. 

“Fuck you, I don’t care about you anyway.” Jisung mumbles an incoherent slosh of words as he kicks at the ground. The action sends him tumbling back to the ground. 

“You okay?” Jisung looks up after being questioned by a gruff male voice. Above him he only sees you. It’s a confusing, inconsistent mess of what he still remembers, but it’s enough for him to act on it. He stands up shakily, clenching your shoulders that don’t feel like your shoulders. He calls out your name.

“I’ve been looking for you, I came here for you!” He says happily. You shake him off, remarking to someone behind you that he’s “totally out of it”. You and your friends leave and he shambles after you. He miscalculates his steps and falls especially hard. He cradles his knee, rolling around on the floor. It’s okay, he can still sleep here. He still has a place to sleep. He opens his back door and splays out onto the seats, his feet dangling out of the car. With his face squished against the seats he calls out to you again.

“Come find me...”

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung groans when he feels his body move. His head is pounding and he can see the sunlight through his eyelids. He groans again, this one more akin to a whine. He notices his body is still moving around. Then he feels a hand that’s not his patting against his upper leg. He jolts upright, the action sending a bolt of blinding pain through his brain. When his vision finally focuses, he sees two men rummaging around in his car. One leaning over the driver’s seat and carding through his center console and the other right beside him, reaching for the floor. Jisung shouts out in shock. The man in the front looks over at him, cursing before retreating out the door and slamming it. While he’s staring at him, he notices the other is especially close. He turns to see him closing in on Jisung. He screams in horror and shields his face. The man reaches past him and grabs his duffle bag before fleeing. That doesn’t stop Jisung from flashing back to his assault, trembling as he slips out of the backseat and scrambles into the front. He drops his keys, reaching for them urgently before shoving them into the ignition. He glances at the suspicious onlookers keeping a watchful eye on him. He floors it, swinging haphazardly out of the parking lot. All their faces are vivid in his mind as he speeds down the street.

Images of Minho’s enraged eyes as he pummeled Jisung distract him. Cars honk as they pass his swerving vehicle. He eventually decides to park near a bus stop, slipping from his car and staggering onto the sidewalk. The first thing his eyes catch when he looks up is a sign on a utility pole.

“Single mother looking for a roommate.You’ll have access to the living room futon and all the amenities. $50 a month. Contact me at xxx-3894 or come to the Bayview apartments and ask for Heejin.”

Jisung laughs at himself. Just his luck that he’d see this when he needed it the most. It’s like someone is playing a cruel joke, daring him to nearly get killed again. He takes it as a challenge, gritting his teeth. ‘I’m not afraid to die’, he thinks as he hops back into his car. A piece of shit like him should be able to handle at least this much. Pain throbs right behind his eyes as he types the apartment name into his phone. He has tunnel vision the entire trip there, strutting through the doors and immediately losing his confidence. A burly man sits behind the counter. 

“Yes?”

Jisung is met with that familiar impatience.

“There was an ad for a roommate…” Jisung finds it hard to think after months of letting his brain rot.

“You’re looking for Heejin.” He states as if to remind him. Jisung nods, swallowing when he notices his mouth feels like cotton. The man moves from behind the desk. “Alright, hands up.” He says as he approaches Jisung. Jisung stammers and looks at him in confusion, leading to the man raising his arms for him. Oh god, he was actually going to die. He feels tears prickle his eyes, anger and frustration filling him at the sensation. Why did he even care? It’s not like he deserved to live. The man pats him down before giving Jisung a hardy “Alright”.

Jisung looks up at him expectantly. 

“Third floor, room 308.”

As he exited the elevator, Jisung kept thinking of every horror movie he’s ever seen where they lure some idiot into a secluded area and torture him for their amusement. He watches as insects crawl out from tears in the yellowed wallpaper. Everything is screaming at him to turn around but for what? So he can find another bar to drink himself into an early grave? Is life the way it is so worth living that he should fear dying? Despite that, his fist shakes as he raises it toward the door. He grits his teeth so hard he feels like they’ll crack under the pressure. He lowers his hand, cursing himself for his cowardice.

The door opens anyway and he flinches before looking up. Before him is a woman around his age with short hair, carrying a toddler. The toddler is crying loudly and the mother looks very disheveled. Not as much as him, but still enough for it to be noticeable.

“Please! Come in!” She sounds friendly despite her clear exhaustion.

He doesn’t know what would’ve happened to him if he didn’t find her and Mihee that day. She insisted on the low price to stay there. If only she knew who she was being so gracious to.

Heejin stumbles across a small container of ice cream and scoffs. She presents it to him, her cocked eyebrow suggesting she already has an idea why it’s there, but is still asking for an explanation. Only the beginning of a sound leaves Jisung before he’s huffing through his nose in defeat. 

“Could you give it to her? I don’t know… like if she does something good? Say it was a surprise from you.” Jisung supplies to a disinterested Heejin. 

“You’re just like my mother! What’s the point of being firm and putting my foot down if all she learns is to ask the right person?!” Heejin rants, exasperated as she tosses the ice cream back into the bag.

“I know, you’re right. I just couldn’t help it. You can have it. Eat it after she falls asleep or something.” Jisung falls even deeper into defeat as he sighs and closes his eyes. Heejin examines him quietly.

“No.” Jisung opens his eyes for clarification, only to be met with Heejin’s annoyed exhaustion. “You’re going to give it to her after she follows my instructions without talking back. You’re going to tell her that’s why she can have it, and to not ask for things I’ve already said no to anymore.” Heejin reaches for the ice cream again and shoves it into Jisung’s chest. He clutches it as she continues. 

“Maybe she’ll listen if you say it.” Judging by the look on her face, she means exactly what’s implied. Jisung’s brain churns with turmoil. That little girl shouldn’t get used to trusting someone like him. He’s trying his best to minimize his interactions with her but it’s impossible. 

“That is a good idea actually. You’re so good at stuff like that.” Jisung says sheepishly. 

“And maybe this way you can practice interacting with her without treating her like an active grenade.”

Her words shock a strangled noise out of Jisung. “Like a what?!”

“Don’t play dumb with me. Every time she hugs you your arms hover in the air like a confused bird. And don’t even get me started on the way you talk to her. Kids are easy to talk to if you try.” The more Jisung stammers defensively the more potent her knowing look gets.

“Fine,” Jisung huffs, “ but it’s not easy. Maybe this stuff comes easily to people like you.”

“People like who? Parents? You know anyone can become a parent, right? You don’t magically become a child whisperer as soon as you become one. And please don’t tell me it’s because I’m a woman–”

“No!” Jisung protests loudly, slightly annoyed at her assumption. “It’s just… some people are born to help. Others are born to hurt.”

Heejin watches in awe as Jisung stews in palpable self disgust.

“Do you think I assume Mihee teleports into her bed after we doze off on the couch?” Is what Heejin settles on to summarize her thoughts. She doesn’t even let him respond, just leaving him to put the rest of the groceries away like she knows he wants her to.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Book club, pilates, mani/pedis, brunch. These are things you only heard of people doing. Mostly from girls in school and after school who would give you a dirty look if you showed interest. Now you were doing all of it with girls who looked just like them. They didn’t even have to tell you about their extensive morning and night routines. You don’t get skin and hair that flawless without hard work. 

“How about you?” Hyunjin says after calling your name. While you were admiring their perfect grooming they must have been talking about their personal lives again. You guess that because they’ve been trying to get you to open up about yours. Not many people move here without having family here or leaving soon after. It’s only natural that they’re curious. 

“What about me?” You frame it as you being humble, as if there’s nothing much to say. Meanwhile you actually didn’t hear her. 

“Oh come on. There has to be some interesting story there.” Hyunjin urges, playfully suspicious of your mysterious backstory. You wonder for a moment if you should tell them your current house is one you fantasized about moving to with your ex. That would give them something juicy to chew on for months. But then you’d be framing yourself as a heartbroken damsel, not a homewrecking monster. And you’re definitely not ready to tell the truth.

“I always thought Jeju was beautiful, and I couldn’t pass up such a beautiful home.” You explain, the girls nodding in agreement. Especially Gowon, and you know exactly what she’s going to say. 

“I’m just saying! Let me know if you ever decide to sell that puppy.” She raises her eyebrows at you as if she’s tempting you. She is. You give her a smile, hoping it comes across that you’re considering it. You’ve never been to a country club so you take the time to look around. The architecture is beautiful, you expect nothing less for such an affluent part of town. The warm browns of the wooden floors and paneled ceiling as well as the beige walls give it a very cozy feeling. The slant to the ceiling, however, gives it a modern edge. Being this far up, the windows offer a gorgeous view of the skyline and the ocean.

The country club isn't the only mainstay of the group. Hyunjin’s house was as well. You were well acquainted with her son, Seojun. He was a fresh toddler, exemplified by the turbulent wobble in his stride. Her husband, Jeongin, is someone you’re not as acquainted with. He seemed charismatic and has great bone structure. You could tell immediately that Hyunjin was in good hands. Initially, that is.

Hyunjin’s long hair tucked back by a thick, white headband with the exception of her straight across bangs exemplified her preppy look. It’s why you thought the two paired perfectly together. Jeongin is one sweater tied around his shoulders away from looking like a stereotypical man from the 50s. His perfectly styled hair made him resemble Ken, a perfect to match for his Barbie. This is the exact thought process when he stepped into the kitchen where you were straggling behind, cleaning your glass. You smile at him, it comes naturally as his uncanny resemblance to the doll amuses you. 

“What brings you to this town?” He asks, seemingly bewildered by your choice. You sigh, almost complaining about answering this question so many times, but the smile still on your face doesn’t lie. This is the least problematic problem to have. 

“It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?” You remark wistfully. Jeongin agrees, exaggerating each step he takes closer to you. 

“It’s a pretty empty place. You get to know everyone, settle down, and then boom!” You nearly drop your glass upon discovering he’s right next to you. So close he’s pressing against you. “Someone drop-dead-gorgeous moves to town.” He looks at you pointedly, his eyes dipping lower causing you to actually drop the glass, the pieces flying all over the sink basin.

“Woah! Be careful doll.” He reaches for your hand but you jerk it away. He looks at you, offended. You return the look right back. 

“What did you say?” You mean the question literally, to double check what you heard, and as a way to encourage some critical thinking. You barely know this man. Hyunjin was one of the first genuine friends you met here who pulled you out of your rut. 

“Geez. Don’t be so serious. I was just kidding!” He throws his hands up, surrendering from your grilling. Kahei rushes in and he flees just as fast.

“Are you okay?” She looks over the sink and then at your hands that are shaking. You nod dumbly. “Are you okay?” She asks again, skeptical of your previous answer.

“Jeongin just flirted with me.” You find the words flying from you before you can control it, disbelief coating them. Kahei looks at you sympathetically before rubbing your back. 

“Yeah… you just gotta ignore him when he does that.”

You look up at Kahei, not sure whether the shock, confusion, or indignation was showing on your face. So many emotions and thoughts flow through you that end up voicing one aloud. 

“A-are you guys sleeping with him?”

Kahei backs up from you, her looking affronted this time. “Excuse me?!”

“I-I’m sorry! That came out wrong, I didn’t–”

“If anyone did that, or does that in the future,” the pointed look she gives you feels like a searing hot iron branding your flesh, “they should be ashamed of themselves.” Her voice laps at you as she shoots you a sharp glare. She leaves shortly after, leaving you to grapple alone. As you walk out of the kitchen, completely forgetting about the shards of glass you left in the sink, everything around you is muffled and blurry. Hyunjin asks you something but your eyes are trained on the ground. What have you done?

Hyunjin shouts your name and jolts you to reality against your will. You look at all the married women before you. All married except you. You look at Kahei who is still staring daggers into you. If she told Hyunjin, that would be it. You’re the only bachelorette there and Kahei is her best friend of many years. Of course she’d see you as the scheming harlot there to steal all their husbands. The worst part was that you had to seriously consider if you did flirt back. You know deep down that you didn’t, but you keep replaying the interaction to see if maybe you made a face and led him on.

“I-I have to go.” You gather your things as the girls protest. As soon as you breach the doorway, tears pour down your face. You cover your mouth to contain the sob that spills from you. You walk as far as you can but barely make it to the bus stop before you fully break down. You turn away from the onlookers as the sobs rattle you. Of course this didn’t work out. Why would it?

The girls message you in the group chat and privately as an attempt to get through. You don’t even get your hopes up. They probably just miss gathering at your beautiful home. They can have it. You can’t take it anymore. You text Gowon and let her know you’re accepting her offer.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Other than smelling like the sea and his hands being numb from the cold, Jisung can’t complain about being a fisherman. He could focus on his thoughts since his coworkers didn’t speak to him much. Everyone just minded their own business and got the job done. Jisung pulls the buoy line up from the water, coiling the line right by his feet. His supervisor gives him a pat on his shoulder, signaling that this is the last thing he needs to do before he clocks out. Jisung just nods, appreciative that no one tries to yell over the noise of the wind and the boat. They just communicate with gestures and nods. 

As soon as Jisung walks through the door he’s only thinking of a hot shower.

“Ji-Ji!” 

But immediately upon hearing Mihee’s voice, his stress alleviates slightly. He gives her a soft smile, dropping it when she runs up for a hug. He stops her with a cautionary “woah”.

“S-sorry Mihee. Ji-Ji stinks.” He defaults back to that stupid awkward laugh. She frowns and walks back to where her mother emerges. 

“Still.” She doesn’t even frame it as a question, knowing the answer from his bird arms. He hurriedly drops them once he realizes. She shrugs.

“You’ll get there.”

“You don’t know that.” Jisung corrects immediately. “You don’t know me.” His words offer a challenge. In a few seconds, Jisung can make her regret putting faith in him. Possibly regret ever letting him into her house. Jisung attempts to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.

Heejin picks up on that same look from when they were putting away groceries. She breathes a laugh. “Unless you’re some sort of axe murderer or child predator, I promise you I’m not worried about you being around Mihee.”

The confidence in her voice unnerves him. The back of his mind screams at him to tell her because she deserves to know. 

“I cheated on my… ex-fiancee multiple times with the same woman. I even got off on the fact that it would crush her if she found out. I urged her to go on a trip with her friends when she just wanted to stay with me, all so I could invite over the other woman. She even called me during the trip because she missed me so much but I told her to stay. While I was inside someone else for a whole month she thought I was looking out for her wellbeing, I was actively destroying it for pleasure. The kicker is that she wasn’t even my fiancee yet. I let her propose to me, plan the wedding, fantasize about our future, and even walk down the aisle while I was thinking of the very same woman I moved to Jeju for.” Jisung pours his heart as if he was begging Heejin to vilify him. His eyes are pleading her, but not the same way his words do. He can tell that he’s letting it bleed through that he doesn’t want what he’s asking for. He shakes it away and continues.

“Jisung.”

“I left her at the altar. I embarrassed her in front of both our families on a day that was supposed to be the best day of her life. I just disappeared.”

“Jisung–”

“She screamed out for me–”

“Jisung!” Heejin snaps insistently, finally stopping his never-ending confessional. She huffs, seeming to prepare herself for something.

“You know, I gave birth to Mihee after finally breaking up with my husband. We fought all the time during my pregnancy, to the point where I thought the stress might harm Mihee. You can’t really blame my ex, though. He had sustained an injury from his job and his doctor suggested he abstain from any strenuous activity. It was so serious he wasn’t allowed to have sex for months.” She stresses the word as if to mock her younger, impatient self. It dawns on Jisung slowly but surely. His eyes don’t widen because he’s shocked by what she did, but that she did them.

“You could understand his anger now when he realized he wasn’t seeing things and there was– in fact– a baby bump protruding from his loving wife. Even worse is when she tried to gaslight him. Telling him she was just bloated and was seeing a doctor about it. Then the bump got larger, and he saw a tiny foot distend the skin of her stomach. I think what baffles me the most looking back was that I was so angry at him. So angry that I fought him in court for custody of the baby I wasn’t even sure I wanted. Well I won that fight thanks to the prejudice of the judge. He gave me a stern look and lectured me like he was my father, saying that now I had to stop screwing around and live the destined life of a woman. The entire trial my lawyer and the judge boasted about how amazing it would be for a child to have a parent who had a natural impulse to nurture. But I didn’t. My ex knew that, which is why he fought. After the verdict I didn’t hear from him for a few days. I was panicking every time Mihee cried, wondering why the nurturing instinct I was supposed to have wasn’t kicking in. Then he called me and I was so relieved, ready to do whatever it took to get rid of Mihee. But he absolutely let me have it. Said he was an idiot for trying to remain tethered to me in any way, that losing custody was like dodging a bullet. There was genuine relief and joy in his voice.” Heejin reminisces sarcastically, topping it off with a theatrical, wistful sigh. She gives him an emphatic look, like she was encouraging him to continue his confessions. Jisung looks lost and confused. 

“Heejin… you’re a great mother…” He says as if trying to rationalize what he just heard.

“Exactly!” She says excitedly, pointing at him. Jisung shakes his head as her point fails to compute. “I didn’t even know what to do after that. I was heartbroken, because despite my poor decisions and us getting married at eighteen like so many idiots from our hometown, I did love him. The guilt was strong. So strong that I couldn’t tell if the depression was from postpartum or the guilt. Then Mihee cried again one night and it just… clicked. I can’t do right by my ex-husband, but I could do right by her.” The hidden bitterness and pain finally surface as her lip quivers. She shakes her head and looks at the floor. She laughs before looking up again, a tear slipping from her eye. 

“Thanks a lot, Jisung.” She says playfully, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry. Hug my daughter back, asshole.” She slaps the back of his head before retreating into her daughter’s room. Jisung stares at the closed door with the most pitiful feeling of hope curdling in his stomach.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Kahei Hey.

Kahei We’re going to meet at the country club cafe. We were hoping you would come.

They must really like this house, you think, laughing derisively at your own joke. You chew on your lip after the humor of your distraction dries up. Did they tell Hyunjin? Is this some sort of intervention or group confrontation? You want to employ the healthy thought exercises you’ve learned but you keep replaying that moment after you walked out of the kitchen. The face that Kahei made inspired no confidence that you were going to be forgiven. You want to just sell the house to Gowon privately and high tail it out of there. You weren’t sure where you were going to go yet but you had to go somewhere.

You release a lengthy sigh, knowing where you needed to go.

“I think selling the house is a good idea.” Sooyoung informs you, her voice plain like it always is. Nothing for you to cling onto or stretch out of proportion. 

“Really?” 

Sooyoung lets a little amusement at your shock slip but nods through it. “I’d say you’ve been there long enough to know whether or not it’s a net positive or net negative. If it’s pulling you down, cut it off. Makes sense, right?”

“Yeah.” You’re surprised by how simple that was. “Huh.” You express, slightly satisfied. Slightly.

“So. Is there anything else you wanted to chat about today?” Now is when Sooyoung hints at an ulterior motive. You guys have been talking for long enough that she knows when you’re hiding something and that she can safely call you out on it. You could play stupid or delay your response, but that’s only drawing out the inevitable. You’re paying to be here, dammit. You grit and bear it, catching Sooyoung up with your split from the group.

“Did you flirt with Jeongin?” Sooyoung says the quiet part out loud and it catches you off guard. There’s an attentive look in her eyes that illustrates clearly that you have nothing to be worried about. The answer comes surprisingly easy despite the gargantuan unease tearing your stomach apart. 

“No, but–”

“Then you didn’t do it.” Sooyoung interrupts you for the first time in any of your meetings. She releases a hefty breath in relief before continuing. “I’m sorry I sprung that question on you like that, but I had a good feeling you didn’t do it. I promise I wouldn’t have asked you that in an accusing way. But you see now why you shouldn’t be worried.”

“I… I’m just– I feel sorry for Hyunjin, okay?!” You stress not only to her but to people not present in the room. 

“That’s very clear in my eyes. You may not have told Hyunjin what was going on, but you didn’t smile in her face knowing what was happening behind the scenes. If you have any fears that you’re walking into a confrontation of any sort, don’t. You should be the only person entering that cafe without a guilty conscience. And why is that?” This meeting with your psychologist turned into a pep talk suddenly. You feel slightly overwhelmed but you push through it.

“Because… I never deceived Hyunjin or purposely hid things from her.”

“That’s exactly right! You don’t need to go, especially if it will cause unnecessary stress and turmoil. But I think this is a good opportunity to stick up for yourself. And it may even be an opportunity to get your friend group back.”

You shoot her a confused look that makes her laugh.

“I don’t think it’s too late to mend things. If they’re really your friends, they’ll be able to handle you setting the record straight without getting offended. Plus, didn’t you say you enjoyed hanging out with them?”

“I really enjoyed it. It was like I was in a Hallmark movie.” You admit dreamily and partially in humiliation. Sooyoung laughs again and this time you join her. She stops for a moment and gives you a pointed, passionate look.

“You deserve happiness.”

That sentiment and the look in her eyes strikes something in you. You swallow hard, attempting to push down the large lump crawling up your throat. Your lips tremble and you look to the ground. You want to believe her. Every time you walk into this room, you want to believe her. You know it’s not going to be that easy, but damn it feels good to have someone rooting for you.

Through a tightened throat, you look up and thank Sooyoung.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

Jisung’s supervisor pats him on the shoulder as he pulls on his coverall over his clothes. He looks over at him for clarity on the strangely-timed gesture. His supervisor clears his throat but it’s still gravelly beyond belief.

“We’ll be headed over to a well-off area to fulfill a large order today. The people there are spooked easily, so the customer warned us to not trail off too far if we dock.” He pats Jisung again as if to punctuate his sentence. Jisung nods as if he wasn’t already staring at the older man’s back. Jisung had forgotten what he said as fast as he said it. He doesn’t wander far from the harbor anyway.

As Jisung casts the buoy line, he looks out at the view. He can already tell they’ve arrived by the architecture and tourist-friendly attractions. Namely the pleasantly designed walls to welcome incoming boats. He has to guess what each cute little shop and building is, being this far away. Eventually they sail toward a residential area. His hands freeze and loosen on the rope, causing a chunk of it to zip straight into the water. Someone yelling his name only slightly alerts him. He drops the rope and they continue to yell. The crashing waves drown them out and alert Jisung to how bad his idea is. 

Jisung looks from the water to the houses again and spots it. The rock pattern around the edge of the property is identical. The dark wood and gray bricks, the distant twinkle of fairy lights, how it looks in the snow. In a split second he goes from stepping up onto the bow of the boat to hitting the ice cold water. His body immediately tenses up from the cold but he pushes through it. His hands slice through the turbulent water as he swims like his life depends on it. Halfway there, the majority of his body is numb to the point that he can only tell his body is following his brain’s command to swim because he can see himself closing in.

He reaches for a pile of rocks leading up to the edge of your house and clenches onto one. Feeling nothing from the numbness, he slips off from it. He tries again, gritting and yelling as he pushes through the pain. He clenches onto each rock as he painfully pulls his body up. By the time his hand slaps down on the wall surrounding your yard his fingers feel like they will pop off. He eventually drapes himself over the wall, falling over onto your snow-covered grass. He grunts desperately as he pulls himself up, shambling toward the house. He walks past the window, the one he saw so vividly in his dream. He sees the fireplace that matches the listing and his dream. He stares at it as his body feels like it’s chilling to rigidity. He finally pulls himself away at no sign of you. He knocks on the door, each strike feeling like it’s crushing his bones. He doesn’t know if he’s crying from the excruciating pain or from the anticipation of finally seeing you but it pours out of him. He sobs until drool drips from his numb lips.

A woman with large eyes opens the door before hiding behind her husband.

“Hey pal, what’re you doing here?!” The man booms. Jisung’s brain pounds behind his skull and his heartbeat slows. His head lolls over his shoulders and his eyes flutter close just before the world tilts.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“Mr. Han? Can you hear me, Mr. Han?”

Oh no… he’s having a nightmare. But why about this? The last thing he needs is to be back here. He hears a woman’s voice he expects to be Jiwoo panicking, but he doesn’t recognize it. Who the hell is that?

“Oh dear god. Is he going to die??” The woman asks urgently.

“No honey, they said he’ll be alright.”

Jisung blinks his eyes open, all of his senses overwhelmed by the sudden realization that he’s conscious. The relief he feels that he’s not stuck in a nightmare is brief. The bright lights above him and the feeling of the stiff mattress beneath him brings back all the emotions from being hospitalized for his concussion.

“Where are my things?” Jisung asks weakly.

“Thank god!” He looks over to see the large-eyed woman from the house sighing in relief. The house he thought was yours. He really did move here for no reason…

“They’re here in this bag, but I highly recommend you stay for another day–”

Jisung swipes the bag from the doctor’s hand and leaps from the bed. From the taxi ride home to the freezing walk up to his apartment, many people try to get his attention. The driver asks him if he’s okay, passersby ask if they should call for help, the burly man at the front desk of the complex hurls many bewildered questions at him. They all watch him walk by emotionlessly, bare feet padding on the snow, concrete, dirty carpet. When the elevator dings looks out into the empty hallway with beads of tears hanging over his bottom lids. He pads out onto the poorly adhered sheet of matted carpet down to his apartment. 

Heejin hears the door open and Mihee yell “Ji-Ji!” so she doesn’t feel the need to turn away from the stove.

“Hey Jisung, could you do me a big favor and help me clean the kitchen after this? Dinner’s almost ready.” She carefully starts to roll the egg. Jisung hasn’t answered but she needs complete concentration to do this.

“I know you’ll offer to do the whole thing yourself but…” She laughs, her smile fading slightly once she realizes Mihee is quiet as well. She swiftly kills the fire and flips around. The scene she witnesses makes her cover her mouth. Mihee nuzzles into Jisung’s shoulder as he holds her even tighter in his arms. Her tiny legs wrap around him as best as they can. They both soak up the long awaited hug in silence.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“I did all of this to myself.” Jisung admits weakly after explaining everything (including why he’s in a hospital gown) to Heejin. They both slouch on the couch, full from the food and exhausted from the day. Heejin looks over at him, the beer in his hand mirroring hers.

“So then it’ll be all the more satisfying when you fix it yourself.” She offers.

“Fix it how.” He laughs derisively. “In an attempt to lessen my ex’s pain, I probably tripled it. And the person I hurt her for is nowhere to be found.” He states the obvious in hopes she will understand his predicament.

“Are those the only aspects to your life?” Heejin asks carefully. “You’re suspended, but you said you liked your job, right?”

Jisung groans, very aware of where this is going.

“And you care about Mihee.” She adds with a more serious tone to her voice. “And she really loves you. You better not let down my baby girl.” She scolds. Jisung nods obediently, knowing she’s not joking at all. She sighs and rests her head on the back of the couch. 

“It takes time. It’s going to be lonely. It’s been three years since Mihee was born and I've only just made friends. Speaking of which, you should come with me.” She looks over at him, pleading with him to hear her out despite the look on his face.

“Some of them are young mothers just like me, which is exciting!”

“And why you should go alone. I’ll look after Mihee here.” Jisung brushes her off.

“No! They invited me to this crazy nice place, you might love it! There will be other things to do there and we’ll get in for free!”

Jisung groans and melts back onto the couch.

“When is it.” He asks regrettably, making Heejin squeal.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

You readjust your bag and coat for the eightieth time outside the doors. You have to go in there like you mean business. Express that you don’t take back what you did, but you really would like to be friends again if they’re up to it. You sigh through your peaking anxiety. How the fuck were you going to balance that tone? You’re not a politician. You inhale sharply before pushing the doors open.

“Over here!” Kahei immediately yells for you. You look over to see her beckoning you over and the other girls waving. You walk over to get a closer look and to confirm what you initially observed. Hyunjin is nowhere to be seen.

“What…” All of the worst case scenarios swirl through your mind as you look between them. Should you even be here?

“Please, sit.” Kahei asks tenderly. The slightly melancholic air to the room suddenly makes your stomach drop. You sit nonetheless, because the unknown is frustrating. 

“Hyunjin hasn’t officially left the friend group, let’s just get that out of the way.” Gowon points out with both her hands lowered to the table. Kahei confirms before looking back to you. She says your name empathetically before laying her hand over yours. You feel like throwing up. 

“We all told Hyunjin about Jeongin,” Kahei starts and you swear the room is turning slightly, “that he flirted with all of us. We should’ve done this a long time ago. It is truly shameful that it took someone who hasn’t even known Hyunjin that long for us to realize how wrong we were. That shows just how much you care, and Hyunjin wanted us to thank you for her.”

You untense your shoulder and finally fully settle into your chair. “So, she’s just taking a break, or–” You ask as you look between them.

“Yes.” Gowon interjects. “And rightfully so, she’s probably processing a lot right now.” The others nod. You start nodding too, failing to stop the tears from streaming down your cheeks.

“She is. She really is.” You blubber through your tears. The girls coo, standing to come over and wrap their arms around you. You hide your face, correctly anticipating that your cries were about to get ugly. Their embraces feel so healing, though. Each pat and rub to your back and arms soothes you. You recover as quickly as you can, grabbing a napkin from the dispenser on the table and dabbing away your tears. You sniffle, looking at all of them gratefully. The overwhelming urge to apologize is consuming you but you fight it.

“I’m really happy to be back.” You beam.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

“I guess it does look nice.” Jisung admits with a small smile. Heejin says a small “See?” before entering the building. He doesn’t even notice her and Mihee being long gone as he takes in the huge building. Once he does he gasps and scrambles to follow them. He looks around at the architecture. The slanted ceiling is a really cool addition, he thinks. He hears someone call out Heejin’s name and his attention lags behind again. A cafe in a country club… Heejin just made some rich friends it seems. He looks over finally at said rich friends.

Jisung can faintly hear one of them tell Heejin that she’s right on time. Each of them take turns shaking her hand and greeting her. Including a hallucination. She looks like you, she sounds like you, she gives a name that matches yours. She’s looking at him. You’re approaching him. He panics and runs back out of the doors. He breathes heavily, trying to stop his heart from exploding. He rests his hands over it as his breaths become louder, until they transition into soft cries. 

“Jisung?!” You say, moving closer to him. He looks up at you with intense, watery eyes and you back up suddenly.”J-Jisung, are you okay?” You ask with a heaviness he can’t quite grasp. You look like you’ll cry with him. Through your anguished joy at seeing him, you look great. You look healthy, well dressed and groomed. You’ve been here for less time than Heejin but you’re already shacked up with a group of rich friends. You’re thriving.

“I-I don’t even know where to start…” You say, confused at his intense stare. Jisung does.

“Were you in Incheon?” He hisses, straightening up to look you in the eyes. You’re shocked by the accusation laced within his words.

“Minho was in jail and I felt responsible. He did this because of me, I had to apologize–”

“I was the victim!” Jisung shouts against his better judgment. Hurt flashes on your face split second but he can’t stop. So many thoughts flip through his brain and he doesn’t think through any one of them. Your confusion doubles by this point.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“I got a concussion and hypothermia– f-fuck I’ve lost my goddamn mind looking for you!” He explains, desperate, angry, and crazed. Sadness overtakes him as he continues. “But none of that is even close to the emotional turmoil I went through without you. I know you don’t care about me– your own words– but do you not care about what you did to Minho?” He asks moronically. The words leave him and he immediately wants to apologize and beg for your forgiveness. But that want is far too distant. His anger is so close.

“Excuse me?!” You finally match his volume.

“If you did and it was still tearing you up, did you go and solve it on your own? With some other asshole while I suffered alone? You were the only thing that kept me sane and you left! You knew me and Jiwoo weren’t going to work out, why… why didn’t you wait?!” He pleads, flinching at the quick laugh you let out. A glossy sheen slowly envelops your eyes as you shake your head at him.

“Wait for what, Jisung?”

“Don’t act like you don’t remember.” Jisung closes in on you, lowering his volume but not his intensity. “We were the only ones who understood each other. The only people we could turn to and you–”

“It’s time to move past that, Jisung.”

Your unexpected answer, delivered in a delicate whisper, stomped out all the drive and anger he had. “Wh-what–”

“We’ve paid for what we did. It’s evident by all the burnt bridges from our past. Why we’re both here, miles away. I can’t keep relying on excuses for my behavior.” The twinkle of pain in his eyes softens you. For the first time in two years, you see Jisung. You can’t help reaching up and cupping both his cheeks. He huffs, more tears pouring from his eyes.

“I have to grow, Jisung.” 

He clenches his eyes shut, crying harder. “You can grow too–”

Jisung shakes his face away and your heart falls. “That’s easy for you to say. Your life is all sunshine and rainbows.” He replies bitterly. You scoff at his incorrect assumption.

“The whole reason I’m here is because I almost did something stupid that landed me in a psych ward. D’you really think I wasn’t suffering, too?” You ask as you drop your hands from his face. “When I first got here, I couldn’t get through an entire day without breaking down. I couldn’t even turn to mindless sex because I was scared. And I only wanted you.” You look down, ashamed at your admission. 

“I felt like– I still feel like I’m not a functional human and that everywhere I go I ruin lives. I feel that way because of you, Jisung.” 

Jisung takes the opportunity to be affronted by an accusation now. “Because of me?!”

“Yes!” You reply incredulously before laughing bitterly. “I’ve been abandoned my whole life. Either because someone dies or I push them away. I almost prefer that my parents died, because at least then I wouldn’t have to live with them choosing not to be in my life because I was a sad excuse of a person. I kept pushing Minho, testing him to see if he’d leave. And when he did… I thought for a moment things could be okay. Why?” Jisung realizes before you say it, closing his eyes regrettably. 

“Because I had you!” You shout. You laugh pathetically at your next thought. “I thought maybe witnessing the worst moment of my life would make you realize how much I needed you. And then you would smile on the phone while your girlfriend gushes about how excited she was to come home and be with you again.”

Jisung wanted to protest, wanted to tell you that he still cared about you and wanted to see you. But looking at the hurt in your eyes flashed him back to the day you walked out. The way he couldn’t find an answer when you asked him what he would do if Jiwoo put two and two together. The answer wasn’t obvious at that moment, but he knew the moment Jiwoo proposed that the answer was run to you.

“So if anyone should be grilling the other about being abandoned, it should be me.” You say, looking exhausted. Jisung feels utterly horrible. He finally finds you and this is what he does to you? You sniffle, wiping your eyes.

“But Jisung, I’m past that. I’m still fighting my demons but I won’t let them take control this time.” Your smile is a thin veil over your pain. 

“Do you want to get coffee?”

You both agree that you want to speak to each other alone, so you’re both nursing paper cups of instant coffee back at your motel.

“So you were living in that house?”

“The one I showed you?” You ask and he nods. You look around before nodding back. Jisung sighs, wondering if he should tell you just how he got hypothermia.

“Did you like it?” He asks, keeping his eyes on you.

“No.” You admit, solemnly shaking your head. “It turned out to be a bad choice.” 

“Seems like we’ve both got plenty of those to go around.” You both laugh at yourselves. As you settle into a brief silence, you remember what you saw posted to Jiwoo’s Facebook page last year.

“It seems like a lot of people were angry at you on Jiwoo’s page.” You bring up hesitantly. Jisung groans.

“Please. I do not want to talk about that.” Jisung strains. You look over at him and he dodges your gaze. You rest a hand on his knee.

“As soon as I saw you standing in the cafe, I wanted to crumble and just melt into your arms. Tell you all my shameless thoughts no one else would be willing to hear. Like the fact that my friend’s husband who made a move on me was objectively attractive and charming. And the fact that you wouldn’t even flinch would be comforting. But I don’t need my psychologist any more to tell me that that’s not healthy.” 

He finally meets your eyes. Hesitantly, but he still does it. His heart grows heavier as he finally realizes that Minho was right. He did ruin you. You made each other complacent. After Heejin confided in him, he wondered if the right thing to do then was to marry Jiwoo. That didn’t feel like the answer and he knows now that it wasn’t. It was for you both to do right by each other. The consequences of each other’s actions.

“I regret it.” Jisung starts. “Every single day the look on her face haunts me. If I wasn't a monster before, I was definitely a monster for leaving her at the altar.”

“Honestly I was shocked to learn that’s what you did. You’re right, I didn’t think you guys would work, but I thought maybe you’d get divorced after years of an unhappy marriage.” You reflect thoughtfully despite your harsh words. 

“That’s precisely what I was trying to avoid.” Jisung side eyes you playfully. 

“I mean, it’s good you cut it off before that, but you could’ve done it any other way. And maybe a liiiiittle sooner.”

“When? The night you left?” He inquires genuinely after brief amusement.

“Maybe not. Mostly because I think you should’ve done it out of respect for her and not to pursue me.” You note as you stare into your coffee. “But also because I feel like we needed the journey it took to get here.”

Jisung snorts. “I beg to differ. But I get what you mean.” You both chuckle lightly. “What um… what did you say to Minho when you visited him?” He asks, silently wondering just how reconciled you two are.

“I told him he was allowed to hate me but he shouldn’t hate himself.”

“It sounds like you guys wrapped that up neatly.” Jisung deduces while nodding his head.

“Now I would beg to differ.” You start, amused, “He was in jail. The worst part is that he exhibited signs that he would become violent on my behalf and I ignored them.”

“Has he assaulted someone before?” Jisung asks in disbelief. You nod slowly, finally deciding to take a sip of your coffee. You grimace at the bitter taste.

“His best friend.” You smack your lips before looking over at Jisung who is wincing. He makes a long hissing noise that feels like rubbing salt in the wound. However, after a little time, you feel lighter somehow. Acknowledging it won’t make it disappear, but nothing will. You take another sip.

“Is that your girlfriend? …Your kid?” It’s your turn to be nosy. You peek over at him and he laughs. 

“No, I haven’t been here for three years.” He stops laughing as he realizes the other component of that question. “And no. I don’t have a girlfriend.” He states, suddenly nervous as your eyes meet. 

“Are you? In a relationship?” Jisung sips his coffee before you stand up with a smile. You grab his cup to join yours, setting both on the tv stand. You sit back on the bed, closer this time. You grab the hand nearest to yours, slotting your fingers under his palm. 

“No.” You reply softly. He slides his hand to wrap his fingers around your thumb. You wrap yours over the back of his hand.

“If we’re going to do this…” He starts and you feel yourself getting excited. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, realizing you’ve been wanting to kiss him since you entered the motel. “Taking care of each other…” He clarifies. You say a soft “Oh” in realization before squeezing his hand. 

“We should be upfront with each other. What do we want? I’ll go first, I want to take things slow.” He says and you deflate a little. “How about you?”

“Um, right now?” You don’t notice that you’re bouncing your leg until he laughs at you and places his other hand on it.

“No, going forward.”

“Oh! Well… honestly as long as I’m with you, it doesn’t matter.” You answer honestly though impatiently. 

“Yeah?” He confirms quietly and you nod. “And right now?” His voice is hushed, dropping in pitch suddenly. Your eyes lower to his lips and his tongue peeks out between them. You give into the urge, leaning in before he makes an admonishing noise. He lets go of your hand to hold you by your shoulders. 

“No?” You say in the most heartbreaking disappointed voice. He laughs again, he can’t help it. He bites his lip before speaking.

“Lay down.”

You excitedly lay back onto the bed, awaiting further instruction. He slowly moves to your side, his cold hand sliding under your shirt and cardigan. You gasp in surprise, closing your eyes. 

“What about this is taking it slow?” He tsks, moving his hand back down and reversing his progress toward your breasts. You whimper, his hands on your skin igniting a feeling you haven’t felt in ages. His hand keeps moving until it breaches the band of your pants. You gasp excitedly as he dips a finger between your folds. 

“Oh my god…” He remarks his shock. His finger sinks deeper into the sea of your arousal. He removes his hand and quickly moves it to his lips. He savors the taste, his eyes fluttering shut. You hum a turbulent moan, clenches your thighs tight. He moves back to your legs, situating in between them before baring your lower half. He discards the garments carelessly in favor of your exposed core. He plants a kiss or two, however many it took before you started to groan in frustration. 

He suckles at your folds, encouraging your clit out. Once it’s free he wraps his lips around it. His lips smack wetly before releasing. He licks up your folds, gathering the bud back into his mouth. The friction he provides with his wet tongue and mouth has you lifting from the bed. You grunt at the tight tugging sensation in your stomach. Jisung switches to a rapid flicking of his tongue that sends you falling back to the bed. You suppress your writhing, feeling a strong fear of disrupting the pleasure. Your repeat short, gasped moans as you watch him.

His hunger grows as he guides you to your high. He slurps at your clit until you’re mewling a warning. You finally let yourself writhe as your first orgasm dawns on you.

“F-fuck I need to fuck you.” Jisung growls against your mound.

Jisung shoves his jeans and underwear down, his cock flopping upon being freed. He grabs the underside of your thighs and pushes your legs back before moving to your arms. He slowly urges them over your head as he heaves above you. “‘m gonna fill you up.” He breaths, his eyes tracing absent-mindedly over your features. You hum pleasantly at the action. 

He slides his legs forward and his tip hits your mound. You jolt in surprise and excitement. Jisung mirrors your drunken smile as he slides in. Your smile fades as your jaw drops open. 

“It’s been so long–” You sob, your legs dropping over his shoulders. “N-need it…”

Pleased, Jisung hums and grabs your hips. He starts slow and shallow, testing the waters, remembering how good you feel. You’re flooding around him, squeezing every time he breaches into new depths. Upon bottoming out your head drops to the bed, your hands splaying out against the headboard. You choke out a moan that sounds like it’s being forced from you.

“God, fuck!”

He finally starts smacking his hips toward you and you frantically cheer him on with crazed chanted yes’s. Jolts of electricity run up from his abdomen to his throat and out his mouth through an urgent groan. He leans down over you, his breath hitting your face before he kisses you. You can feel how hungry he is, not aware that you’re returning the same amount of hunger.

He pulls out and sinks back between your legs before you can process what had happened. He immediately starts lapping at your hardened clit like a madman. Your anguished moan is cut off as he eases three fingers into you. He sounds and feels desperate. His movements are frantic and he can’t stop moaning and humming against you. His saliva mixed with your arousal drips down to your asshole in a thick glob. Not that you can dwell on it much. Not when his tongue is moving so quickly and expertly against you. You can’t help thanking any high power that would listen that you decided to hear the girls out today. He thrusts his fingers inside you faster as he switches to sucking your clit with an obscenely loud noise. He uses his tongue to rub long strokes against your clit. 

You reach down and tug at his hair so hard you think you’ll rip some of it out. You’re both whimpering like puppies in heat. The entire bottom half of his face is practically submerged into your mound. You buck up into him as another orgasm rattles you. You release his hair to fist the comforter with a deep groan.

Jisung crawls back up to position his cock at your entrance. He kneels right over your hips, making it so he can drop his cock inside you with lethal force. He starts with an accelerated speed that has you squealing desperate pleas. His balls slap at your asshole, making the already lewd sound of your wetness even more disgusting. You both sound like crazed animals as you claw and grab at each other. One of his hands haphazardly grasps at your breast to anchor himself. 

A sudden wave of euphoria overcomes you as you recognize his telltale signs he’s close to cumming. He seems to notice something too, reaching down to wrap both his hands around your throat. As he squeezes you rocketed to your orgasm, your cunt spasming around his throbbing cock. He pumps his cum deep inside you, bottoming out two, three, four more times until he’s completely empty. 

It’s like a ray of sunshine cascades over the both of you as he pushes back inside and lays over you. He rolls you both onto your sides, pulling you close like he doesn’t plan on letting you leave.

0:00 ───|────── 0:00

As you observe Jisung across the room, you wonder silently if he knows he bites his knuckles when he’s nervous. He paces, visibly frustrated by the limitations of the small space. He flips and walks to the other wall, the phone in his hand now facing you. The dingy lights of the motel room fail to illuminate him as well as the sun that has long since set. Despite that, you still catch his eyes widening.

“H-hi! Um… is Jiwoo available?” After a very brief break, his knuckles are brought back up to reckon with his teeth. “Right, I’m an… old friend. I moved away– alright! Thank you.” Jisung is excited before the anxiety takes back the reins. He switches to his cuticles, needing something to tear at. Your stomach is twisting for him. 

He glances over at you for the first time since he agreed to do this. The terrified look in his eye makes you want to snatch the phone away and hold him, but instead you give him an encouraging smile. You nod and he nods back. 

“Hello? Ah… yeah. This is Jisung.” He flinches at what you presume to be an increase in volume. “I-I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I am!” He responds desperately after a momentary pause. “But you don’t have to believe me. I was a coward… so I just wanted to do the right thing and give you closure.”

Jisung chews on his lip before his eyelids involuntarily close, almost like he was bracing himself for something and hated that he was. But as his mouth drops open and a look of hurt confusion twists his features. A tear rolls down Jisung’s cheek amidst the silence. 

“I am okay.” He assures her in slight disbelief only for him to laugh dryly seconds later. “That’s fair. I’d tell me to go fuck myself, too.”

Jisung shuffles and looks down at his feet. “And is he your boyfriend?”

You wince at how that sounds, only for Jisung to be immediately briefed on that fact. “N-no I didn’t mean it like that!” Jisung sighs, dropping his defensiveness. 

“You’re right. I was pretending to care about you. I was cruel.”

Jisung freezes suddenly, his face partially obstructed by shadow. “It was after we moved in together. I realized how different we were, but I wouldn’t let myself believe it. I wanted to change for you… or at least that’s what I told myself.” Jisung answers honestly despite sounding like he wants to do anything but. 

“I guess I thought being with you would make me less of an idiot. But me being an idiot was no excuse for what I did, Jiwoo. And I’m sorry.” He whispers as if he’s lost all his strength. It resurfaces momentarily as he tries to stop Jiwoo but then he takes the phone away from his ear.

After giving him some time, you turn to him. He faces vaguely in your direction, seeming ashamed of the tears threatening to spill. 

“Sh-she hung up–” Jisung starts only to get choked up. His head droops and you push off of the bed. You hurry to him and wrap your arms around him. His cries are quiet, just brief heavy breaths here and there. You rub his back. A few minutes of rocking back and forth encourages him to break the silence.

“I don’t want to leave.” He states weakly. 

“You can sleep here tonight, but I agree about taking it slow.” You pull back to look into his saddened eyes. You cup his cheek and he’s finally able to indulge in the tender gesture. You smile.

“We have time.”

end of act iii

skz masterlist

milestone celebration masterlist

[chuckle-clips]

Ted: And I leave— it’s a five and a half hour drive to Ithaca from my hometown. And it is not— it’s a pain in the ass, it’s the dead of winter, we’re talking yknow ten degrees, maybe five, what have you. I’m driving, I’m an hour in, and I’m chilling until I realize once I wanted to turn the heat on, that the heat didn’t work in the truck. 

Charlie: Uh oh. 

Schlatt: Ooh, no. 

Ted: And when I say the heat didn’t work, it’s not like… like, it’s a 2002 car, so it’s like if the heat doesn’t work it’s not like ‘oh, I can fiddle around with this and that and it’ll start working somehow.’ It’s not like a newer car where just something will eventually work or like ‘oh, the heat warmers will keep me going until then even though the air doesn’t work’. Just, the heats off. It doesn’t work. It’s five degrees outside—

Charlie: Did your car also have a hole in the floor at this point yet?

Ted: When did it have a hole in the floor?

Charlie: Did I just hallucinate that? 

Ted: When did it have a hole in the floor?

Schlatt: I don’t think I ever remember Ted’s Toyota Tacoma pickup truck having a hole in the floor. 

Charlie: I thought it had a hole in the floor. 

Schlatt: But, I do want to say, I would not be surprised if one day, Ted said “my Toyota Tacoma has a hole in the floor”.

Ted: It is an engine vehicle. 

Charlie: I think maybe you were driving in such a way that I hallucinated a hole in the floor because I swear to god there was a hole in the floor. 

Ted: No. 

Charlie: And I thought I was gonna fall out. Is this real? 

Ted: I think this is like a— this is like a…

Schlatt: You thought you were going to fall out of the vehicle through the hole in the floor of the car?

Ted: This sounds like a dream you had the other night. 

Schlatt: Are you like one of the six inch people that you talk about? Are you six inches tall?

Ted: What are you talking about?

Charlie: I think when you replaced your heating, you changed it with gas, bro. I don’t know what I saw, man, but I saw something there. I swear I saw a hole, man. 

Ted: Dude, you’re hallucinating some shit. 

Charlie: No, there was a hole there, dude. You’re gaslighting me. There’s a hole in your car, I know there is, I’ll find it. I’m coming over. I’m coming over. I’m gonna get into your car and you’re gonna ask how I’m missing a hole. 

[aqua-the-smiter]

Ferrus is feeling a bit cranky over Candlemass, so Sanguinius takes it upon himself to cheer his brother up.

Just some wholesome Christmas writing Divider by @squishyowl

“Hurry Ferrus, hurry!” Sanguinius called cheerfully to his brother,  laughing as he dragged him by the wrist through the streets of Macragge.

“Four bloody hells where are we hurrying?” He snapped testily half running and half sliding. “Why are we hurrying, we’re ghosts, why are we running at all?”

“Sorry! Still haven’t figured out the whole ‘manifest in the Materium thing’ yet. But we are not missing this! Especially not you. C’mon, you have got three feet over me. Use those long legs of yours and move!” He replied, his wings flaring as he leapt to avoid a knot of Ultramarine neophytes.

Technically with them both being dead obstacles weren’t a problem, a fact the duo proved later by blowing through an intersection and phasing through the vehicles as if they weren’t there at all, briefly leaving the occupants with either a very warm feeling or a very grouchy one.

Although even in his fugue state Ferrus had to admit that winter on Macragge was something to behold. The sky was overcast and mottled with clouds. Huge, fluffy snowflakes whirled through the air on the icy wind, blanketing the city of Macragge Civitas in a pure shroud of white (except on the roads where salt and slush turned it a dirty gray). She looked regal, in her pale veil. Elegant. As the evening had crept in the streetlamps flickered to life, bathing everything in a festive golden-amber glow. The citizens were all bundled up warmly in coats and cold weather gear, walking and laughing together or celebrating in the streets and squares with family and friends. Even a few of the Ultramarines themselves were out enjoying themselves, battle brothers rubbing shoulders with everyone from senators to starport workers. It was here he found himself being ferried along by his much more enthusiastic sibling, who ran with the grace of a deer to get to…somewhere. He hadn’t elaborated beyond ‘we’re going to cheer you up’. 

He ran with much less grace but no less speed. Not really a deer. A draft horse maybe, one of those big ancient Terran breeds with hooves the size of dinner plates. 

A candle glowed in nearly every window (no matter how many windows that building had). It was Candlemass, you see. Humanity had never lost its love for celebrating the end of the year, bringing festivities and good cheer to the darkest, coldest months. Saturnalia, Christmas, Yule, and now in the 42nd millenia, Candlemass.  It was, by and large, a joyous time, but Ferrus Manus was feeling far from festive.

For you see, while Candlemass is a time of celebration, it is also a time of remembrance. Honoring those lost in the last year and beyond, remembering the good times and the sacrifices made for loved ones. The Imperial Guard, the Astartes, the Sororitas. A few candles were even lit for the men of the Custodes and the women of the Sisters of Silence. Even Primarchs were remembered this time of year.

Or, most of them, anyway.

Ferrus never wanted to be worshipped like a god. As Roboute and now Lion did, he found the whole idea unpleasant. But while he didn’t want worship, he did want to be remembered, and therein lay the problem. He usually never was. His idiot gene sons were decrying him left and right. Of all his loyalist brothers, he had the least amount of shrines, icons, windows, etc.  Most of them were on Medusa, his homeworld anyway, which hardly counted. The ones that weren’t were all included in a group of shrines. It stung, and he was man enough to admit it. Being forgotten about when he had died in the manner he did. A few hymns and a little thanks wouldn’t be too disagreeable. 

He felt a fresh surge of hatred for Fulgrim, making the fiery halo above his head flare white with hot rage. 

At least his men and women in the Legion of the Damned remembered him. Contrary to popular myth, the legion didn’t just have space marine. Guard, Custodians, Sisters of Battle. If you were a soldier of the Imperium in any capacity, you came to him. He cared for them, truly, and he could see that reciprocated in admiration. And it was nice to have them around to keep him company on the other side. He enjoyed the stories he got from the guardsmen, the technical chatter with the Skitarii, even the theological debates with some of the more fanatic branches of Imperial military strength. 

But still. Some kudos from the land of the living would be appreciated.

Sanguinius of course had no such problems. He was beloved by all in the Imperium great and small. He even had his own holiday, Sanguinala. Even on Candlemass though, the good folk of the Imperium took time to light a candle for the Angel. He always loved this time of year, unlike his dour black armored counterpart. Thus, when he’d noticed Ferrus’s equally dark mood, he had taken it upon himself to lift his spirits in the name of Candlemass cheer. And he seemingly had the perfect way to do it.

The two were pounding up the stairs of the Fortress of Hera now. Through doors, through the corridors and courtyards to a grand cathedral near the center of the Fortress Monastery. 

“Here we are!” Sanguinius said with a broad grin. “Let’s go.”

Before Ferrus could get a word in he was dragged through the ornate double doors.

Inside was lit with thousands upon thousands of candles. It was beautiful, ornate but tastefully so. The light inside was a mix of warm amber from the flame and blue from the stained glass windows. Between all the Ultramarine iconography were the chapter banners of the loyalist legions. Astartes and baseliners alike sat in pews, and the music of a pipe organ soaked into the atmosphere. 

“I thought Roboute hated the Imperial Cult.” Ferrus said.

Sanguinius nodded. “Oh he does. But this is not a Father-bothering service in the least.” He replied, finally letting go of Ferrus’s wrist. The two stood in the aisle, watching as said service unfolded. “Watch.”

Ferrus looked around, noticing that the candles were all being put out. As the music faded, the sanctuary went dark. The only light coming from augmetic eyes and the duos’ halos which nobody could see anyway. 

“What’s going on? Come on Sanguinius, why did you drag me all the way here?”

“Shh.” He pointed. “Shoosh. Just watch.”

As he said it a light flared to life at the sanctuary. Roboute stood there, not resplendent in his armor but dressed in a simple white toga and a blue cloak, the Emperor’s sword belted at his hip.. Ferrus had to bite back a gasp of shock.

He looked so tired and haggard. His hair was longer and thinner. His eyes were sunken and had dark circles under them. His face was lined. But for all that he seemed to be in a good mood, and it was clear why. Next to him, also holding a candle lighter was none other than the Lion, dressed in a forest green doublet and a black sable cloak. His shield was slung over his back. He looked older too, his hair much paled in color and longer, his beard fuller. 

“As we bid this year farewell in its final few weeks and prepare to greet the new one, whatever trials and triumphs it may bring, I would like to take one last moment of your time this evening to remember those that are no longer with us. Ceremony such as this ensures those we have lost are always honored and never forgotten, even if their names have been lost.”

He walked to the side of the sanctuary and lit several candles as he spoke. “For the Imperial Guard, the brave men and women of the Navy and the Aeronautica. We are all grateful for your continued bravery and courage in the face of horrors. You are the strongest of us all.”

There was a round of applause then. Several members of the congregation stood, and were seated again when it died down.

Next Lion walked to the other side and copied Roboute’s actions. “For the Adeptus Astartes. My sons and my brother’s sons. All our nephews without their gene-sires to guide their blades and guns. We thank you for your unwavering spirits and loyalty in the face of hellish odds. I am proud to call you my kin.”

More ovations, and this time the space marines in the crowd stood up. Ultramarines, Dark Angels, and a few scattered successors of each. But the middle was still dark. Roboute moved inward a bit, and then Ferrus saw it.

Shrines. There were shrines. One for each of the loyalists. A beautiful crafted statue of each rested on a small altar, surrounded by candles, although the features were obscured in the dark. Roboute began lighting them once again. These were colored either a dark forest green or an antique gold. The Primarch himself had taken his seat, leaving Guilliman alone up front.

“For my brother Lion. You are a pompous, stuck up, trigger happy, smug bastard, and I missed you more than I can say. I am glad to have you back. You wear your age gracefully, which is more than I can say for your armor.” 

The Lion laughed aloud at that, grinning, and after a moment the Dark Angels decided it was ok to find it funny as well. Guilliman moved on to the next altar. The candles were white and red.

“For my brother Jaghatai. Your speed and skill are sorely missed, as is your dry wit. Dustier than the deserts of Tallarn, and as sharp as any power sword. May your battles in the Warp be victorious and your return home as swift as the hawks and horses of Chogoris.”

And the next. The candles here were storm gray and yellow. 

“For my brother Leman. As loyal a brother and faithful a friend as anyone could ask for. I miss your ferocity, your brooding, and your joviality alike. You were one of my Dauntless Few, and I feel your absence sorely and sharply. You who so masterfully pretended to be a beast to disguise the razor blade of a mind underneath the wolf’s pelt. One day I pray we may drink and share stories again, and that I may hear of your great victories and tall tales. Come home soon, and come home safe.”

The next candles were yellow and black. “For my brother Rogal. Stalwart, unbending, unbreakable. You couldn’t understand a joke if it wrote an after-action report to explain itself to you, and you were as blunt as an old knife. But you were my good brother. You were my friend, a man of my Dauntless Few, and we are lesser without you. May you rest peacefully, and know that the Imperial Palace still stands. Know that nobody has forgotten your immoveable soul or your determination. Rest knowing you did your duty to the utmost and that we are all grateful.”

He paused as he reached the next shrine. These candles were crimson and gold. When he spoke again there was a barely perceptible quiver in his voice.

“For my brother Sanguinius. Everyone knew you as the Great Angel. Refined, graceful, powerful. One of my Dauntless Few. I knew you as that and as a mischievous jerk more often than not. You are missed and beloved by all. I miss your kindness and good counsel. May you also rest in peace, and know that you are regarded as a hero, and rightfully so.

There was more laughter at that. Guilliman wiped his eyes and moved onto the next one. The candles were gold and emerald green here instead of forest.

“For my brother Vulkan. You were a much needed voice of kindness among my brothers. You who always remembered baseline humanity and encouraged us to do the same. Your hands made us all many wonders in your forge, and your sons carry that flame with them. May you return safely and swiftly to them and to us, and rekindle your forgefire once more.”

“A kind gesture, if nothing else.” Ferrus said dismissively.

Sanguinius raised an eyebrow. “What, are you jealous? Do you really think Roboute would forget you?”

“Everybody else has forgotten me except you.” His tone was bitter now. “Maybe because I died so ingloriously. Why wouldn’t he?”

“I know you’re jaded, and trust me I understand. But just keep watching.”

The shrine in the middle was still unlit.

Black and white candles flared to life. “For my brother Corvus. A liberator. May that spirit live on, because there are so many worlds that need liberation. May you return home and take up your mantle of freedom-fighter once more, because so many worlds need freedom. And may you have good luck in your hunt. When you come home, I hope your bring Lorgar’s head as a trophy. Throne knows it couldn’t happen to someone more deserving.”

A few hoots and shouts of agreement. 

Finally, Roboute made his way to the last shrine. He lit the candles here slowly, taking his time for each. They were a dark, inky black and a metallic, shimmering silver that glittered beautifully under the candlelight.

And it was then that Ferrus noticed that the middle shrine had the most candles out of all of them.

“And finally. Last but far from the least. To my brother Ferrus Manus, Lord of the Iron Tenth. You were one of the greatest among us. Not because of your metal hands but in spite of them. The greatest of my Dauntless Few. We remember your death not because it was dishonorable or tragic but because you were courageous and defiant to your dying breath. Your soul burned bright and beautiful and it does so even now as you shepherd the Imperium's loyal soldiers. We remember your skill in the forge and the might you granted the rest of us. We remember your strength and power in combat, your iron will and steel tenacity. We are lesser without you, my brother Ferrus. Know that I have not forgotten you. We have not forgotten you, and we never will. Not as long as I still draw breath. I remember you often liked to say that nobody knew you, and I believe that to be true. Nobody really did know you, and I regret not remedying that when I had the chance. Of all of us, I should have known you. May you find peace, and know that as with all my brothers, I love you.”

Ferrus felt a lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down no matter how hard he tried and his eyes prickled. He noticed a few wet trails on Guilliman's face as well, shining in the firelight before he scrubbed his face with an arm.

The rest of the service passed in a blur for him. Many of the baseliners and Astartes went up to light a candle themselves. Many more tiny lights flared to life by his shrine. But eventually the room emptied, and the four brothers were alone with each other.

Roboute turned to the two of them at the end of the aisle with a small smile. “Are the two of you planning on saying hello, or just lurking?”

The two finally faded fully into the Materium.

"You could see us the whole time?" Ferrus asked, incredulous.

"Not really see you per say." Lion said, coming to stand with Roboute. He'd been helping his brother extinguish the remaining candles. "But we felt the two of you there. I figured you didn't want to cause a scene. It…it's good to see you again. Both of you."

"Yes, it is." Roboute echoed. "Unexpected but it's wonderful to see the both of you."

Ferrus opened his mouth but found himself choked up. Sanguinius stepped forward, wrapping his arms and wings around his brothers wordlessly.

When they pulled apart, Lion had misty eyes, Roboute was openly weeping again and Sanguinius was beaming at them both like the sun. He grabbed Ferrus and yanked him forward.

“I came for this grump.” He explained. “He was in such a bad mood because he thought everyone had forgotten about him. Maybe he’s not as well loved as he deserves, but you two wouldn’t forget. I knew you wouldn’t. Your speech was lovely by the way. You always had an ability to talk perfectly. Not too simple, not too eloquent, always genuine.”

It was more than that. It had taken all of Ferrus’s considerable willpower not to cry like a child. He was touched. And a little ashamed of his earlier dismissiveness. Maybe not many still cared, but the ones who mattered did. His family remembered him.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Ferrus huffed, but before he could continue Roboute had wrapped him in a rib-crushing hug. He stiffened, but after a moment returned it.

“Throne but it’s good to see you again, Ferrus.” And damn him if it didn’t sound genuine. 

He blinked hard, trying to contain his own tears to no avail. “It’s good to see you as well, Roboute. I’m glad Fulgrim couldn’t take you down too. The bastard.”

“He nearly did. I got lucky.”

When they pulled apart Lion surprised all three of them by wrapping Ferrus in an equally strong embrace.

“You idiot. You bloody idiot. You really thought we’d forget about you? Give us some credit, Manus. Maybe we could have done a better job of showing it but your absence was sorely felt. I wish I had noticed something. Gotten the Laer Blade away from Fulgrim, I don’t know. I’m sorry Ferrus.”

“Don’t-” he swallowed. “There’s nothing you could have done, in the end. I made my own choices, foolish as they were.”

“He made worse ones.” El’Jonson said fiercely. “You are deeply missed.”

“More than you realize, you big lump.” Sanguinius smacked his shoulder with a wing. “See? What did I tell you? Cheer up, it’s Candlemass.” 

“I wonder if your xenos…friend could help…?”

Roboute shook his head. “With the state he’s in? I don’t know. I was a different case.”

“I appreciate the thought, but it could be much worse. And someone needs to look after the Legion of the Damned. Aeonid Thiel says hello, by the way.”

“I-well. It’s good to hear from him too.”  He paused. “I must ask, how are the two of you here? This isn’t something you can do regularly, is it?”

Sanginius shook his head. “I wish. I would have come far more often, but it’s really only doable, even for powerful ghosts like us, during certain times. Or when the energy is right and the veil is thin.”

“Trust me, if we could do this regularly my idiot gene sons would have already gotten an earful they wouldn’t soon forget.”

“How much time do you have left?” Lion asked. 

“More than enough.” Sanguinius flashed another one of his brilliant smiles. “That's the thing about ceremonies like this. Remembrance. It helps to thin the veil, draw power. All that raw emotion. It’ll linger for a while. We can stay and talk.”

“I like the sound of that. We have much to catch up on, don’t we?”

Lion nodded. “ We do. And I’m sure you’ve got a bottle of Macraggian red you can dig up from somewhere.”

“And there’s his real motivation.”

“Hardly. It’s tradition to have long talks over alcohol, you know that.”

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that. What about you, Ferrus?”

He shrugged. “I have nothing pressing at the moment. I’m sure my men and women can go a night without me around.” 

And he smiled in spite of himself. It was nice to be remembered.

[healerfromhell]

On The Night Nurse

hi dead boy detectives fandom, i’m here to give you the tea on the night nurse because i cannot watch her incredible lore get overlooked any longer. this post was initially a thread on my twitter but i wanted to cross post :3

long post under the cut

DOOM PATROL

we first see this iteration of the night nurse in what ruth described as a “backdoor pilot” in s3e3 of doom patrol. she’s only on screen for 3 minutes but in that time there’s an insane amount of implications in terms of her abilities.

she’s shown to have telekinesis, as well as shifting her appearance into a more “demonic” form, including her mouth seemingly splitting in half. finally, as the doom patrol escapes, she projectile vomits acid onto them which later turns them into living-dead style zombies!

it’s up for debate whether or not this is canon to the dead boys show, HOWEVER, in terms of asa herself we’re not given any reason to believe she isn’t functionally the same, even if this IS an alternate universe.

as such, it is likely that the night nurse possesses these abilities in dbd and we simply haven’t seen them yet. furthermore, she’s already canonically an “eternal, trans-dimensional being”, so while this is a different universe, it could potentially be a single, dimension-hoping night nurse.....

COMIC HISTORY

here’s where we get into the good stuff. it’s pretty much agreed upon that the night nurse is an adaptation of the comic character “nightmare nurse”, also known as asa the healer. she’s a demon of an unknown age and she’s absolutely delicious as a character.

asa first appears in the phantom stranger, but she’s most notably present in justice league dark. during this it’s explicitly stated that john constantine is her ex-boyfriend and that she’s sapphic! let's go through some of the most important connections we get from these comics.

Constantine

we see her make several references to her history with constantine, but she’s also pretty loud about how her priorities are, first and foremost, her job, as you can see here, which i think ties in nicely to her pendanticism in dbd — all she wants to do is her job.

Zatanna

here are a few panels in which she hits on zatanna, then kisses her, then says she’s a much better kisser than constantine. girl kisser asa you’ll always be famous.

by the way, that creature with the red eyes? yeah, that's asa. that's her demon form that she appears in after enduring the blackmare curse with constantine.

Alice Winter

it is revealed that asa used to work as a nursemaid for a sickly woman named alice, but eventually she decided to possess alice instead. this is the body we see her in throughout her comic appearances.

however, it turns out asa is the only thing keeping alice alive. when this becomes evident, alice invites asa back into her body for good.

Other Appearances

asa is also seen a few times in other comic runs, i’m just gonna add some of my favourites here.

Suicide Squad

i love her character design here and i think her ability to remove trauma like a cancerous growth is a nice tease at how she can literally go into charles’ head and watch his trauma in dbd

The Phantom Stranger

this is from issue 8 of the phantom stranger and there’s several reasons i love it. firstly, LOOK AT HER.

second, let’s go queer demon who enjoys threesomes! you’re an icon, asa. third, apollo and panacea. oh, apollo and panacea. we’re about to get tinfoil hat-y for this last bit.

FINAL THOUGHTS

so you might’ve noticed, up until this point asa’s mentioned having sworn an oath, but that panel has her outright stating she was actually FORCED into it by the gods. we also get a hint at this in jld, though they don’t explicitly name apollo and panacea.

“asa” quite literally means “healer”. her given name; every time somebody addresses her, they are calling for a healer. that cannot be coincidental. it makes me wonder if she even HAD a name before this oath was forced upon her, or if she was just… a creature. a monster.

perhaps the gods saw fit to name her asa as a means of throwing salt in the wound. not only have they branded her, even her name is a reminder of her new purpose. it gives a lot of weight to the numerous occasions on which she says that she is, no matter what, a healer.

because regardless of where she is, what skin she wears, no matter what… she has that oath, and her name is healer. there’s no escaping that for her. it’s the fundamental core of who she is.

and as a final, final thought i would like to draw attention to this casting because hooooooly shit. perfect.

anyway if anyone cares to see any more of my never-ending thoughts about asa you can find all my head canons on the carrd i have for my rp portrayal or my ao3 where i will no doubt be posting writings about her :3

[bradleysass]

Reckless - word count: 704 - Starchaser

The Black family manor was a spectacle of grandeur during Christmas. The chandelier sparkled with charmed icicles, evergreen garlands twined with silver ribbons adorned the marble bannisters, and the scent of mulled wine and freshly baked spiced cakes filled the air. Regulus Black stood near the grand fireplace in the main hall, a glass of champagne balanced effortlessly between his long fingers.

He was every bit the picture of aristocratic elegance: a tailored black suit with subtle silver embroidery, his raven hair perfectly combed back, and his sharp features set in a mask of cool detachment. Even in a room full of purebloods with similarly lofty airs, Regulus managed to command attention.

Sirius wasn’t here, of course. He wouldn’t be caught dead at a Black family Christmas party. Regulus envied him, sometimes, for his freedom to rebel. But someone had to keep the family name pristine, and it always fell to him.

Regulus was just about to excuse himself to escape the dull chatter when he caught a flicker of movement in the shadows near the ornate doorway. His brow furrowed. It wasn’t Kreacher—he could hear the house-elf bustling in the kitchens. His grip on the champagne flute tightened as he turned, expecting an intruder or, worse, one of his meddling cousins.

Instead, James Potter stepped out of the shadows.

Regulus froze.

James was slightly disheveled, his hair messier than usual, his Gryffindor charm muted by the anxiety in his hazel eyes. He wore a thick winter coat, its edges dusted with snow, and his cheeks were flushed, either from the cold or the sheer nerve it took to show up here.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?” Regulus hissed, striding over before anyone else could notice. “Do you want to get hexed?”

“I needed to see you,” James said, his voice quiet but determined. He looked Regulus over, his eyes lingering for a moment too long. “I’ve never seen you in such a fancy suit. You look… incredible.”

Regulus blinked, momentarily caught off guard. But then his usual defenses kicked in. “Flattery won’t save you if my mother sees you,” he snapped, glancing around. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know,” James admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I couldn’t wait anymore. I’ve been trying to owl you for weeks, and you’ve ignored every single letter.”

“That should’ve been a hint,” Regulus said coldly, though his voice wavered ever so slightly. “We’re done, Potter. You don’t belong in my world, and I don’t belong in yours.”

James took a step closer, undeterred. “I don’t care about worlds, Reg. I care about you. I made a mistake, I know that. I let my temper get the better of me, and I said things I didn’t mean. But I’m here now, trying to fix it.”

Regulus’s heart clenched, but his face remained impassive. “You think you can just waltz into my family’s home and everything will go back to how it was?”

“No,” James said softly. “But I had to try. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I’ll keep apologizing until you believe me.”

Regulus looked away, his gaze fixed on the crackling flames in the fireplace. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” James agreed. “But I’m your idiot.”

Regulus’s lips twitched, betraying the faintest hint of a smile. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet, here I am,” James said, stepping even closer. “Tell me to leave, and I will. But if there’s even the smallest part of you that doesn’t want me to go… I’ll stay.”

Regulus met his gaze then, his gray eyes shimmering with a mix of frustration and longing. For a moment, the sounds of the party faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in the glow of the firelight.

“You’re reckless,” Regulus finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

James grinned, his confidence returning. “Reckless enough to sneak into the Black family manor for you.”

Regulus sighed, but there was no mistaking the softness in his expression now. “Fine,” he said, setting his champagne flute down on a nearby table. “But if my mother finds you, I’m not saving you.”

“I’ll take my chances,” James said, his grin widening.

[lilacsbeeswax]

Could i request a story where Lorenzo and reader are siblings? And the slytherin boys are also like brothers to her. Except Theodore because he and reader are dating.

But like forgot that they had a date that evening and reader stood in the cold at hogsmead for almost 2 hours and came back to thr common room crying and Loreza askes her whats wrong and she tells him??

You can continue the stoie from here :))

Pairing: Enzo x sister!reader - Theo x reader

Notes: Gotta love 2 months of not posting 💀

Masterlist

——-

Hours. It has been hours since the time Theodore had told me he would arrive. Two to be exact, sitting on a cold bench waiting for him to come and say all the right things as usual.

It’s the dead of winter yet I can’t bring myself to leave. My fingertips turned numb a while ago and my nose had begun to run.

How could he forget? Am I that disposable to him? Am I not worth the effort? The thought alone caused hot tears to roll down my cheeks. The insecure questions kept racing back and forth through my mind. My breathing sped up and my brain felt as though it was rattling around my skull.

“Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.” I repeated, hugging my arms around my chest to self-soothe. It calms me enough to pull myself to my feet. Shakily breathing and still sobbing, I walk my sorry self all the way back to Hogwarts. Taking the most abandoned route I knew.

——-

By the time I made it into the Slytherin common room, I had hoped I’d be calmer, but tears still poured from my eyes regardless. I rushed through hoping to make it to my dorm without being seen by one of the boys.

I knew my plan had failed when I heard my brother’s voice calling me. When I didn’t stop he rushed over and stood in front of me.

“Y/n, why are you crying? What happened?” He asked.

I looked around the common room that was teeming with people before responding, “It’s nothing, Enzo.”

I tried to squeeze past him, but he blocked me. “It’s definitely not nothing.”

“Look, if we’re gonna talk about this can it be somewhere more private?” Tears continued to glide down my face. There was a massive pit in my stomach and I thought I might’ve thrown up.

Enzo led me up to my dorm and sat next to me on my bed. He wrapped his arm around and shoulder and squeezed me. “Now can we talk?” He asked.

My voice shook as I explained Theo not showing up to our date. I rambled until I ran out of tears, Enzo just sat there listening.

When I was done he hugged me closer and kissed the top of my head. He released me and announced, “I’m gonna go give Theodore a little visit.”

“Do you even know where he is?” I asked, standing and blocking Enzo’s exit.

“I know exactly where that nitwit is, come on.” He said, shoving me gently out of the way and rushing out the door. I scrambled to keep up as he half ran to their shared dorm.

Enzo sighed as he unlocked the door to reveal Theo passed out on his bed. Relief flooded through my chest, he hadn’t maliciously missed our date, he was just dead asleep. Annoyance replaced my sadness, as Enzo stepped aside and let me walk in closing the door behind me.

I gently sat on Theo’s bed before aggressively shaking him. He shot up with a gasp. “Good afternoon, jackass.” I smiled.

He rubbed the sleep from is eyes and half groaned, “What’s wrong baby?”

“I’ll give you a little refresher; you and me at Hogsmeade about 2 and a half hours ago.”

He sat still for a moment, before his eyes widened. “Oh shit! I’m so sorry Y/n!”

“You better be I stood outside in the cold for almost 2 hours waiting for you!”

“This isn’t an excuse, but I had fallen back asleep after quidditch. I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry, amore mio.” He stood up and walked to me, grabbing my face and cradling it gently. “I would never purposefully stand you up.”

“I know. It made me really sad when you didn’t show up though.”

“And I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I love you, principessa.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into a hug and a kiss.

“I love you too, idiot.”

——-

Masterlist

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I’ve been on a bit of a walking dead kick recently and fell in love with your writing. I was wondering if you would do a fluffy Daryl x reader. Where reader has been part of the group from the start and is super outgoing but is almost always with Daryl. They do everything together and he’s trying to work up the nerve to confess (maybe around Alexandria). Then one day she goes “how come you never kiss me?” And he’s so confused and she’s all like I mean we’re dating aren’t we? Could be a cute idea?

A Long Time Coming

Daryl Dixon x plus size reader

Daryl has loved you since the beginning; with all your softness and beauty, you always felt unobtainable to the hunter but as it turns out, he had nothing to worry about, because you were already his all along

Warnings: A big old load of fluff, Daryl’s usual angst and he’s a little dumb (is that news to anyone), implied smut

WC: 1.3k

Minors DNI

Spring hit Alexandria hard. Flowers popped up everywhere and it seemed that the forest around the township was coming back to life. But for Daryl, that meant he had to get back to work.

The sun was just barely over the horizon as the hunter quietly slipped from his home, crossbow slung over his shoulder. By his count, the scant deer population should be returning to Virginia about now and their meat stores have run dangerously low by the winter months.

He did like the silence of the early morning though. Everything was still and if Daryl closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough, he could pretend that the world was back to normal and he had just woken up from a fucked up nightmare. 

The houses around him were still dark as he walked the main road towards the gate. Well, all except one. He knew that he shouldn’t bother you, you were probably asleep on your couch again. But he really just wanted to walk in and take you into his arms and fall back to sleep with you.

It was a habit he had developed long before they found safety behind Alexandria’s walls. He was the natural protector of the group even if it was a reluctant roll at first, but he had always had this urge to constantly make sure that you were safe. If he couldn’t see you, his stomach would drop and his veins fill with dread as he imagined the terrible things that might have happened to you. Yet as soon as you would trot back into his line of sight, all of that fear was washed away in an instant. 

Daryl knew what he felt was love during one night at the prison. He had been on night watch in one of the guard towers when you sleepily stumbled into the room, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a pillow tucked under your arm and only one of your feet had a sock on it. Without any words, you plopped down next to him and cuddled into his broad shoulder before falling asleep.

You were his sunshine and he would do everything in his power to keep it that way, even if that meant hiding his feelings for you. In Daryl’s mind, there was absolutely no way that you would want him, he was far too broken, far too old. But still he yearned.

With dragging feet, he continued to walk past your home. He kept his head down, his greasy hair which was long overdue for a haircut falling over his eyes as if the dark strands could shield him from the ache in his chest that he always seemed to get when he thought of you. 

Abraham opened the gate for him without a word and Daryl slipped quietly into the wilderness, determined to run from his feelings, at least for a while.

——————

“Daryl Dixon you are a god!” Your squeal broke said man from his daze. The cigarette he had been smoking was now mostly ash and hung precariously between his thick fingers. You stood below him on the street, looking up at him as he sat on his porch.

“What’d I do now?” He answered sharply, eyes darting away from you since you had decided that today was the day you would wear the most distracting outfit in the world (one of his flannels and tight jeans). 

Your smile somehow got even brighter and you took that as your cue to skip your way up the steps to his home and plop down beside him on the small bench. Heat exploded all over Daryl’s body as your thick thigh pressed against the side of his leg. Your arms wound around his bicep so you could prop your chin up on the hard muscle. 

“You brought home the biggest buck I’ve ever seen! And now we all get to be well fed for a good while. You’re my hero.” You cooed. Daryl felt his brain short-circuit and, he hated to admit it, his pants tighten at the sight of your gorgeous eyes fixated on his face as you called him your hero.

Clearing his throat, he spoke with a slightly shaken voice. “It was nothin. Jus doin ma job.” You tutted and gave him a stern look while squeezing his upper arm.

“Stop it. You did good today, just like everyday. You deserve some celebration for all the amazing things you do for us, for me.” And his heart stopped. The way you held onto him, the way you looked at him, the way you spoke to him, it was all too much. The urge to confess to you how he truly felt was becoming an overwhelming need. It grew like a wave, slowly getting larger and larger until it was like a tsunami.

Your gaze softened as you looked up at the hunter. The wave was beginning to crest. A hand unwrapped itself from his bicep and was placed firmly on his chest, right above his heart. “Daryl?”

His words were caught in his throat, he couldn’t answer you so he nodded instead. You took a deep breath before speaking again. “Why don’t you ever kiss me?”

The wave broke, shattering against the shoreline of his heart. “What?” It came out as more of an exhale than words but obviously you understood him because your fingers curled into his shirt and you looked away as if ashamed.

“Well, we’ve been together for such a long time and you’ve never even tried to kiss me or initiate physical contact. And I know you don’t really like touching people but you always let me hug you and hold your hand. So I was wondering why you have never kissed me.” You spoke quickly in an almost panicked manner, the words falling from your lips in a torrent.

Daryl was frozen. “We-we’re together?” Your head tilted cutely as you regarded him.

“Yes? Daryl, we’ve been together since the farm. Remember, I told you that I loved you after you got shot and then I held you all night.” The memory slapped him in the face. You were right, that did happen but evidently, he forgot because of the copious amount of pain medication he had been on at the time.

“Fuck.” He growled. There was only a moment of hesitation as the air between you went still. His eyes dropped to your lips, then traveled back up to meet your gaze and then he kissed you. 

Your lips were softer than he had ever imagined. They tasted faintly of your homegrown tea and honey you farmed yourself. With his free hand, he cupped your soft jaw, his thumb brushing against your full cheek. His body was alight with electricity and a little bit of self-deprecation. How could he have forgotten you proclaiming your love for him?

He could kiss you forever but soon enough, you pulled back slightly so you could catch your breath. But Daryl needed to keep touching you. His own lips travelled down the length of your throat to the base of your neck. “D-Daryl.” You clutched at him.

He didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop, not now, not when he finally has you in his arms. 

“Jesus! Get a room!” You shot apart, startled by the sudden voice. Carl had his arms crossed as he glared at you both, a stern look on his face. “Nobody wants to see that.” He spat.

You rolled your eyes while you stood, pulling Daryl to his feet beside you. “Maybe we will.” You stuck your tongue out at the teen and he responded likewise as you walked away and into Daryl’s home. 

“We will?” The hunter asked quietly. You looked back at him from over your shoulder with a smoldering look.

“It’s been a long time coming, Dixon.” Daryl tripped over his own feet as you led him back to his room.

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Fluent Freshman - Part 40

PREV

The Winter Banquet.

Where the Spring Championship announcements happen for Collegiate Exy. A formal event meant to allow the ERC to showcase how their stars weren’t just brutes on the court. Look at how beautiful and handsome they all were. Look at how they danced together. Look at the smiles and laughter and-

Wait.

No.

Put that down.

Who had the great idea to put the Jackals next to the Terrapins? Things have been tense between the teams since the Captain of the Terrapins stole the Captain of the Jackal’s date during the Fall Banquet!

I thought we all agreed that there would never be any more steak knives! What was the point of paying for all the pre-cut tenderloins if we’re just going to give them steak knives?! 

Really gotta find an intern to pin this fiasco on.

Oh great the Foxes are leaving! Did we even get a picture of Kevin Day in his suit? Fuck it’s going to be a two intern firing kind of day isn’t it.

Someone get an eye on the Ravens before they try and grab some hapless idiot and sacrifice him to revive Riko Moriyama. If there’s even one more damn tabloid with a blurry photo of ‘Riko Moriyama’ to prove that his death was faked then heads will roll.

Honestly, the biopic that some Edgar Allan Film student is making about him seems pretty interesting. The ERC just wishes people would stop taking pics of the ‘lead actor’ and sending it to tabloids as proof that the King hadn’t died.

Fuck, the Foxes left before we got any decent pictures.

Well just great.

You’d think that after all these years of the Foxes leaving early they’d have learned that getting pictures as they arrive is the most important thing. 

Oh thank god it looks like the Trojans are starting to mediate the fight. You can always count on good ol’ Jeremy.

Fuck.

A Raven got too close to Jean Moreau and now Jeremy Knox has punched a Backliner. Great. The Trojans have formed ranks around Moreau but the kid’s just too damn tall. Someone has hit him in the head with an especially saucy meatball, he’s not injured, just confused. The Trojans are acting like it’s a gunshot he just took to the head.

The refreshment table just seemed to collapse in on itself and god wasn’t that just an allegory for this entire damn evening.

Anita Flores sighs as she watches yet another banquet go down in a riot. Honestly, she doesn’t know why they think these will end up differently. She finds herself often missing when she used to coordinate banquets for football teams.

She sighs and thinks about her least favorite interns.

Alex had been getting a bit too cocky lately. He’d make a good sacrifice.

***

(Three hours earlier)

The Palmetto State Foxes were on their way to the Winter Banquet. From what FF understood it was categorically always a 90% chance of a shitshow. Honestly FF was surprised that the percentage was that low.

There was a general tenseness in the air surrounding it that went beyond the Banquet’s propensity to become a fight. 

This year the Winter Banquet was going to be held up at the Binghamton Bearcat’s stadium. The nation knew the story from the news and FF knew the story from both that and from the Foxes themselves who were there at the time in bits and pieces.

Captain Neil had been kidnapped from this stadium and then he’d been tortured. FF hadn’t even been on the team when it had happened and he was anxious about Captain Neil going anywhere near the stadium.

“He was just…he was just gone.” Matt had said, “Neil was gone and Kevin said that he was probably dead when Andrew got back with his phone.” He continued as the two of them sat up late in the living room of the dorm one night back in early October.

“I thought Andrew was going to kill me y’know.” Kevin had said bottle in hand as FF tried to help him up the stairs because apparently he would 100% guarantee vomit if he was in the nausea box. “I thought that maybe I deserved it, since I didn’t help Neil. I just let him walk to his death.” He said and despite assurances that he wouldn’t puke FF’s shoes did not make it through that journey unscathed.

“We called…we called everywhere.” Nicky had stared up at the ceiling of his hospital room, “Andrew was adamant that he was still alive even though Kevin kept saying he was dead and that dead was the nicest thing he could hope for. I thought that was a terrible thing to say.” Nicky curled up closer to him.

“I told you, Andrew dragged me like I was nothing to get to Neil. I don’t think he even noticed the guns.” Wymack said to Abby as the two sat on the back porch during Aras’ going away party. “His eyes were on Neil.” he gestures towards where Andrew was watching Captain Neil wrestle with Matt.

“He looked like shit.” Aaron had said unable to stomach a diagram of different degrees of burn in his medical book. “At least he was alive.” He adds.

“A hero.” Andrew’s voice had been what could be considered teasing from Andrew, “Someone who looks like her.” he had said touching Captain Neil’s burn scars as they drove away from the stadium after coming back to pick FF up.

Captain Neil had come to him the day before they were set to drive out, “Take me somewhere no one will find me for an hour.” FF hadn’t quite understood what Captain Neil meant, he never hid anywhere. People just failed to realize where he was.

“Ok.” he says instead of trying to explain because being unnoticed means no one hid codes from him.

The roof of the Library wasn’t that much different from the roof of the Tower, only that it was taller and bigger. Captain Neil had shut his phone off after texting something, likely to Andrew, and then put it into his pocket.

FF settled on the roof, sat with his back against a heating vent to stay warm. Captain Neil settled next to him and they sat in silence. It felt like back at the start of this where Captain Neil and Andrew would come find him and just sit in silence. 

It was nice. He had missed-

“They act like the stadium is the thing that kidnapped me.” Captain Neil says.

Oh okay, quiet time is over apparently.

FF doesn’t say anything, figuring that nothing he could say right now would be the right thing and maybe Captain Neil just needs to talk through some stuff.

“That stadium is where I thought I’d have my last good memory.” Captain Neil explains, “I’m not scared of it and yet Andrew’s acting like I’ll die if I’m left alone for more than 2 seconds while we’re there. Every time we go there they all act like the most important thing in the world is that I get on that bus at the end of the night.” Captain Neil explains.

FF does remember how Andrew had grabbed Captain Neil after their October game up in Binghamton. How Captain Neil had complained bitterly but had gone after looking at Andrew.

“He’s dead!” Captain Neil exclaimed and FF couldn’t help but look over at the entrance and hoped no one heard them. “He’s dead! I watched him get shot! He can’t kidnap me again!” Captain Neil continued to yell and FF couldn’t help but worry that they’d be heard below, or worse bother a student trying to study below.

FF reached out and touched Captain Neil’s arm and bright blue eyes turned to him, “We’re on a library. Don’t yell.” FF said and Captain Neil looked at him incredulously.

Then he laughed. He laughed and laughed and FF was worried that he’d gone and broken his Captain.

He suddenly felt bad about his own bout of hysterical laughter a while back.

“Thanks Smith.” Captain Neil had said with a smile.

They had sat up there until it was dark and Andrew had started calling FF’s phone and Captain Neil took the call to say he was coming back.

Now they’re on the bus, dressed nicely, and on their way up to Binghamton’s stadium. Captain Neil and Andrew are hidden in the far back of the bus with Andrew looking far more like a watchdog than anything else the closer they got to their destination.

Captain Neil had seemed largely resigned to this treatment at this point. Eventually they were at the stadium and shown to their seats. They were sat across from the Trojans and it seemed like the rest of the team was quite pleased with that.

“Smith!” Captain Jeremy Knox is smiling at him, “Nice to see you again bud, nice name change too.” he says.

“It’s nice to see you too, Captain Jeremy.” FF says and doesn’t notice how Captain Neil’s head whips around to look at him.

“You two know each other?” Nicky asks looking between the two of them with excitement.

“Of course! We offered Smith a spot at the USC Trojans.” Captain Jeremy says and FF feels his stomach cramp at the memory.

That had been terrifying.

Coach Rheman and Captain Jeremy wanted to sit down to make their offer with his parents. He was still 17 and unable to sign anything legal without their permission. He’d tried to decline and move past them and Captain Jeremy had put the final nail in the coffin at the time for any thought that he could go to college on the power of his apparent Exy capabilities.

“I saw in your file that you have brothers! USC always gives a second look at student applicants who already have siblings in the university. You could go to school with your brothers!” he had smiled brightly like he wasn’t issuing FF one of the most terrifying threats he’d ever heard in his entire life.

He had given the firmest ‘No thank you, I’m not interested in playing Exy in college.’ he could and was running to his Grandma’s to breath into a bag for twenty minutes.

“I see you changed your mind about playing Exy in college.” Captain Jeremy said with the same smile that still feels like a threat.

“Coach Wymack and Captain Dan were convincing.” he says and looks to see if there’s any way he can move further away from Captain Jeremy’s attention.

“Can I ask what convinced you to be a Fox?” Captain Jeremy asks, “I’m always trying to see what support we should be offering. I found out last year that we missed out on Andrew because we didn’t offer spots to Aaron or Nicky. I thought since you had brothers that’d be the thing that got you.” Captain Jeremy leans across the table but stops when he notices the Foxes all tense. “Whoa, what’s up?” he asks.

Jean Moreau sighs from next to Captain Jeremy, “Not everyone wants to go to college with their family, Jeremy.” Jean says, “Did it not cross your mind that he changed his entire name?” he asks with a raised brow.

Jeremy blinks, “Oh,” he looks at FF, “I guess that wasn’t the right thing to offer.” he says leaning back in his chair.

“I guess I should thank you for offering that?” Nicky says wryly before turning to look at FF, “You look better in orange anyways.” he says.

“Thank you Nicky.” FF returns loyally.

The banquet gets started shortly afterwards. Food is served. The bar is opened. People are talking. FF finds himself relaxing the longer the conversations around him go on. Matt is talking with a backliner on the Trojan line named Todd in good cheer. Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean are all talking about the latest updates with Ichirou in French with the occasional gesture towards FF. Jean Moreau looks at him with a raised eyebrow but gives him a single nod when Captain Neil explains what happened.

Jeremy is chatting with Jack and even Jack was finding it hard to maintain his usual level of rudeness in the face of such unbridled positive energy. Nicky was talking with Katelyn and Alvarez. Aaron was chatting with a fellow med student college athlete who was an offensive dealer. 

It was shaping up to be a good night.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

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