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ddaehyeon · 4 years ago

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。✧ hyacinth; park serim + reader

— pairing: fashion designer!park serim + photographer!reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff, exes au, post-breakup, slightly suggestive (one scene only!)

— word count: 7.1k

— warning: arguments, heartbreak, mentions of anxiety and emptiness

— summary: years had passed since you broke up with serim; life had been continuously patching up ever since. his name had marked several clothing lines, while your studio was well-known in the small city you lived in. who would’ve known that a sight of him on a bus stop would be enough to bring back wounds you thought had long ago healed?

— navi: playlist | video teaser | cravity masterlist

— a/n: my wips suffered from a major slump and this is quite an overdue fic (i also have another overdue fic help) but i hope someone would still at least read this though >< the first ver of this didn't satisfy me and though this ver didn't satisfy me that much, i feel like after rewriting almost half of the fic, this one's better. i'll do my best to pull something better soon!

autumn must be the most magical part of the year. the leaves experiencing a color alteration, scarlets and golds carpeting the ground— a yearly harvest of the earth where everything was gradually being taken away. long gone was the heat of the summer; the chilly evening breeze sure was much friendlier than of winter. the season served as a comforting quilt. it was such a great time for warm drinks that could lift up the mood even for the wariest.

you let go of a breath as you stared at the window, the sun was setting. the color fleshed out in the sky golden, jiving well with the surrounding that was already of the same palette. with an indoor shoot for a seasonal issue of a magazine, it sure was a tiring day. the sound of camera clicks still ringing in your head, along with the hushed talks and chitchats coming from the staff members and the models.

at first, you were hesitant to accept the project. afraid that you’d bump by one of the renowned fashion designers in your region, park serim. but then, you couldn’t just chicken out when a hefty sum was to be paid. the relief you had when you saw that his name wasn’t on the list of designers was almost the same kind of relief you'd have after preventing big trouble from occurring.

“i finished placing back the props in the room.” hyeongjun’s voice was still as bright as it was this morning as if not touched by any fatigue. he was one of the photographers you hired in your studio, offering only fine shots. “i’ll be going home early, just send me a message about what time tomorrow’s shoot will be!”

“thank you, junie.” a smile was on your brim as you nodded on his words, watching him pack his camera and leave afterward.

silence melted in the room as soon as hyeongjun stepped out. alone in your photography studio, you sat on a stool used earlier by one of the models. the room was dimly lit with only one of the umbrella lights open. it was only by then that you realized your thighs were already stiff from the nonstop work earlier. you wanted to go home and just be in the comforts of your bed.

pulling out your phone, you dialed your brother’s number, frowning when it took him quite a while to pick up. was he busy or did he just forget that he was supposed to pick you up tonight?

jungmo would always fetch you by your studio after his working hours concluded. with the two of you living together in the same house, your brother just found it ideal— bringing you to your work every morning and giving you a drive home every evening. it might seem like he was babying you, but it was a gesture you grew fond of.

“y/n?” jungmo gasped on the other line. it seemed like he was outside, music playing in the background which mingled well with the peals of laughter. “shit, i forgot to tell you.”

you raised a brow, questioning his words. “what’s the matter?”

“can’t fetch you today.” you can already envision the pout he had on his lips. “i’m at a party with allen and woobin, catching up with my colleagues. i’ll make it up to you tomorrow, i promise!”

“alright. i’ll just ride the bus then.” it was your turn to purse your lips. you can’t bring yourself to complain about it though. “have fun! just stay in woobin’s apartment tonight, don’t drive!”

“i will, i will,” jungmo replied, a call of his name following. his friends might’ve been looking for him already. “text me alright? get home safely, y/nie.”

at the end of the phone call came another sigh from you. a tightlipped smile braced your lips as you stood to turn off the remaining lights. you retrieved your camera and placed it back in one of the drawers. making sure everything was back to its place, secured; you gave the place one final look. something you’d do every single day before going home. a reminder of the thing you loved the most. a reminder of what could have been.

the sidewalk wasn’t as empty as you imagined it to be, maybe you weren’t used to walking to the bus stop anymore. strangers of different day occurrences exchanged various looks that shared one same element, tiredness.

when the wind blew, fallen leaves danced along with it. the slight coldness making you tuck your hands inside the pocket of the cardigan you were wearing. you loved the cool breeze, but not when you knew you had to stay out on an open shed with it as your companion. cold weather could be your friend, a company for a better evening sleep. but rather a harsh fellow when you had to be alone, when loneliness can easily be injected to your senses.

tracing the path, a memory went to play in your head. way back in college, this was the same sidewalk you’d walk in with your ex-lover. a camera on your hand while he had a roll of satin in his arms. it was such a usual view for the two of you as you talked about how the day went, ranting about the monotonous lectures, gushing over how you missed each other’s company and how you wished that the two of you could get back to your shared apartment as soon just so you can snuggle on the couch.

you glanced at the sky, the cloud hiding the few scattered twinkling stars. a faint smile spread upon your lips, only to disappear when your gaze went back to the bus stop. the male that passed by in a form of fleeting memory earlier was standing right in front of you as if fleshed out from your mind. a lavender-colored paper bag was hanging on his arm, the logo of his product line delicately stamped on the middle. his phone was resting on his other hand, if he was scrolling through sns or texting someone, you weren’t sure.

the magical feeling he used to offer long gone, your stomach twisting into several knots. a cold sensation went down in your spine as a familiar tug came to pull your heartstring. he’s back? what is he doing here? he lives here again?

your thoughts were loud in your head, but none of it was pulled out loud. each word ending up as a lump in your throat. the air was thickening, your heart beating fast, not out of excitement, but out of the clashing thoughts that left you so nervous and confused. it had been years, how come a single sight of him made you feel like all your resolutions are gone? how did a single sight of him become enough to shatter the glass that protected you from the ache that night had caused you?

it was cold. but no, it was no longer because of the autumn breeze.

“serim?” the name was uttered in the same way you would before everything came crashing, yet it held a much weaker tone. you can’t even remember the last time your voice came to wrap around the syllables of his name.

the male turned his head to look at you, a brow raised as he stared at you. no obvious emotion, his eyes held no recognition.

and his reply? it sent a shiver down your spine, your stomach flipping in a horrendous manner.

“who are you?”

for a moment, the air caused such a nauseous feeling— thin and hard to inhale. it was only three words, yet it was powerful enough to serve as a punch in the gut.

how can he forget?

how can he forget how the two of you first met?

not that it was a very momentous event, just a regular struggle faced by two college students that needed someone else to accomplish a project for a major subject. there were no butterflies involved, nor did sparks fly the moment you met. regardless, up until now, that day burned fresh in your mind.

“i know someone from that department,” woobin said without even looking at you, his eyes focused on his book. though you weren’t sure if he was really paying attention to the words written there as he kept on diving in the conversation every now and then.

“and who might that be?” the dreadful task of having to pair up with the design department had been inhabiting your mind ever since it was given to you. pressure rising as you saw your other blockmates having no hard time getting themselves out there and communicating with the department they weren’t really accustomed to. you still have a month and a half, you were sure you can still make it. it was just a photoshoot anyway, featuring your partner’s designs.

“park serim,” woobin finally answered as if he had to think hard of the person’s name. “i think no one had asked him to become their partner, he’d be available to do it.”

desperate to get over with the task, later that day, you found yourself by the catwalk the design students would take. it was a path that connected their building to the main gate directly. your building wasn’t exactly far away from theirs, but still of a different building. with their building equipped with supplies and machineries for final products, yours were of computers, lightings, and screens.

you stared at your phone, his instagram profile opened. earlier, you already took the pleasure of checking his works out and without much filtering, him as well. he sure does love taking pictures of himself; something that could work perfectly with him being your subject. once satisfied, you left him a dm that was probably one of the most awkward sentences you had ever typed in the entirety of your life.

a notification popped out as you look at your screen, which was shortly followed by another. it was only of common courtesy to follow him before asking him for a favor right? you did that before messaging him and now he followed you back and replied to your dm. unlike you, he didn’t spend much time wandering in your profile. well, as if he had so much to look unto aside from the sceneries and some stories posted.

‘you were the person woobin was talking about? i’ll be out in two minutes. see you in the catwalk.’

it wasn’t too long of a duration, you allowed yourself to simply jump from a social media to another, mindlessly scrolling and liking some post every now and then. only lifting your head up when a wave of students began getting out of the establishment. most were holding mannequins with unfinished clothing attached to them, some were holding rolls of fabrics you weren’t sure what to call.

with squinted eyes, you tried to look for him among the crowds. woobin said that serim was a fashion design major, so he’d probably be holding the same thing as the other students that came out.

and he was.

leaning on his shoulder was a mannequin, asymmetrically dressed in silk. it wasn’t sewn yet, only supported by sewing pins. an arm wrapped around a roll of what seemed to be linen of pastel blue color. there was also a paper bag hanging on his arm which seemed to have some extra fabric and maybe some other supplies.

you walked towards him with a wave to which he gave you a confused look at first, the frown melting away when he realized that you were the one who messaged him not even an hour ago.

“you’re y/n?” he asked, merely to confirm.

you nodded your head and offered a hand in carrying the paper bag. something he didn’t refuse to. “so…” unsure of how to bring up the means of meeting with him after his class, your voice trailed.

“what do you need anyway?” he supported your words as he traced the path of the sidewalk. “take pictures of me or take pictures of the clothes i make?”

“both.” a chuckle left your lips, laced with nothing but sheer abashment, at the same time mentally cursing this project. you were okay with taking pictures, but the negotiation that comes with it wasn’t a task you were so used to doing.

serim hummed, saying an almost inaudible ‘i see’ before taking a big step and stopping in front of you to do a curt observation. his gaze trailing from toes up to your shoulder. “i’ll agree to do it, if you’ll model for me for a project.”

blinking your eyes multiple times, a baffled frown came to mask your countenance. “what?”

“i need a model that will wear the dress i’m doing by the end of the semester,” serim uttered nonchalantly, proceeding to turn his back to you and resume walking. “that would be quits.”

“i’ll do it,” you said, despite still being hesitant. having close to zero knowledge about how such a presentation would work, you were so close to disagreeing. but then again, it would only be a good way to repay him, right? and perhaps the other fashion design students would ask you of the same thing if you try to team up with them.

turning to look at you, there was a curve that formed on his brim. “that’s a deal then.”

how can he forget how the two of you confessed to each other?

two months. it took two months of random meet ups, daily conversations, and occasional hanging out to get to know each other. the awkward messages of checking up on each other’s side of the project turned to asking about each other’s day, sharing rants about academic life or life in general. the occasional hanging out turning to planned dates and spontaneous ones when the two of you both have the time to spare.

you’d usually stay in his unit as he worked on the dress for his project, a clothing that perfectly suits your figure. late night talks induced by the slightest energy given by coffee the two of you had clung into in hopes of being able to finish what was due.

it seemed like time flew by and before you knew it, you were in the backstage. serim was pacing back and forth, more nervous than you were. he wasn’t the one that was going to the stage, but sure his body was restless.

“are you alright?” you asked him once the two of you were left alone in the dressing room.

this was enough for serim’s movement to come to a halt. even when his eyes landed on you, it was obvious that his mind was floating. in fact, it even took him hot seconds before he was able to commit to a verbal response. “i am.”

“you are?” a smile broke out of your countenance which was eventually followed by a chuckle. “are you sure with that?”

your laughter was adequate to ease his nerves a little, a curve appearing on his lips. “i am.”

one of his classmates who was in charge of the flow came knocking to the door, signalling that you should be on standby.

“i’ll do my best,” you said, walking toward the door. it would be a definite lie to say that you were not at all nervous. a deep breath taken before twisting the knob, stopping when serim called you. it was covered with a bit, yet noticeable hesitation that it made you cock a brow for a moment.

“good luck.” it was all that he uttered, along with a gesticulation of him raising both fists. though serim’s mind spoke of different words, words he had little courage to let go of. at least not yet at that moment.

you gave him a smile, nodding your head afterward. “thank you.”

and off you go.

roaring crowds and camera clicks; the auditorium set up for the use of the fashion design students as they exhibit their works through their chosen models. formerly, you’d find yourself among the crowds, snapping pictures and admiring the clothes done by the other students. but this time, you found yourself clothed in a floral print silk-blend asymmetrical dress designed by serim himself.

the lights were blinding, being always part of the photographers, you were quite accustomed with how you were part of the persons behind the camera lense. serim was in the dressing room, watching the runway from the screen that displayed the live broadcast. some of your friends were among the crowds, your older brother even telling you before the show started that he’d be sure to take pictures of you.

fortunately, the few days of practice didn’t go to waste, no major mistakes happened when you modeled serim’s design. perhaps the only problem was you were a little stiff, something too trivial for some audience to notice.

as soon as you stepped by the backstage, serim’s proud smile welcomed you. unable to rest in the dressing room once he saw you getting out of the stage, he practically ran to meet you behind the curtains.

his eyes were filled with adoration, not just for the dress he finished making, but for the overall beauty you radiated. without much thought, he walked closer to you, soon wrapping you in an embrace. tight, yet gentle.

“you did well, y/n,” serim whispered, not letting go.

a soft chuckle was heard from you, your cheeks burning. “you did well,” you corrected. “please, it’s your design.”

“thank you.” releasing you, a smile lingered on his visage. “i’ll make you a better dress in the future.”

“you don’t have to, but thanks,” you replied before the two of you sunk into silence. regardless of how the surrounding was of heavy music and cheers, peace had found its way to emanate in the dimmed part of the area.

no words spoken, yet feelings poured when serim leaned closer. his lips easily capturing yours enough to make your heart pound in your chest, louder than it did while you were in the catwalk.

serim broke the kiss, his lips still close with yours. his eyes were of another glow when he uttered a set of words, familiar yet foreign. “i love you.”

once again, you were under his spell. soft kiss turning into a sloppy one once he guided you to a more secluded area. it would be such a waste to rip the dress off given that it was an original design, yet as the person who sewn each part of the clothing you were wearing, serim had his way to resolve the small dilemma.

the surrounding was silenced, your body frail under each of his touch, breath taken away, chest heaving. sure, it was a night you won’t be able to forget.

how can he forget about how the two of you practically lived with each other for years?

the exuberance exuded while the two of you carried several boxes into an empty unit you called home. maybe it wasn’t really about the place, but it was who you were with. his arms served as a shelter. his hand caught tears of both happiness and sadness. his lips pressed affection that no one else could offer. everywhere with serim was of comfort, of tranquility— a home.

living with another person, being under a single roof wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to adjust to. throughout the first few months of living together, your head was filled with memories of sheer trial and error as the two of you tried to learn the curves. this included adjusting for each other or at least compromising for what the other likes that the other doesn’t. silly mistakes became such a fond memory.

the smell of burnt food that wafted in the air when the two of you decided to stay on the balcony while cooking dinner. astonished by the stars and the almost endless stories that passed on both lips the meal you were preparing was left neglected. that night, the two of you shared bitter food of dark exterior, quite hard to swallow. but the laughter that filled the house after the incident lifted up each other’s mood. despite the bad-tasting meal, it was probably one of the best dinners you had in that apartment.

it didn’t end there. who would forget about the laundry disaster that rendered one of serim’s white long sleeves saturated with colors you weren’t sure what to call. the mixture of forget-me-not blue and azalea pink stood as the most distinguishable pigment along with the other colors. serim only let out of a chuckle at what occurred, even joking that maybe the two of you could start a business of dying white clothing in such a way.

the best memory thus far was a late-night run by the convenience store when the two of you were chasing a morning deadline. a grumbling stomach that broke the mutual silence the two of you exchanged, along with a suspecting look that ended up with laughter.

“let’s buy some food,” serim suggested, removing the tape measure from his shoulder and settling it to the mannequin.

you hit save on your laptop, the editing could wait for a few minutes.

pulling yourself off the chair, you gazed at him with a smile. it wasn’t a surprise that he had the same beam, as bright as the morning, regardless of how the evening was already crawling onto the whole city. sometimes, you wondered how a simple smile could give you so much energy. what kind of magic does a beam flashed by the person you love hold?

a few snacks picked up by the convenience store; a bag in his hand, your hand on the other as the two of you walked back to your unit. the evening sky and the soft gush of wind amplifying the peacefulness provided by the city. no words were exchanged, yet the silence was enough of a word.

deadlines momentarily escaping the mind as you allowed yourself to be engulfed by his presence. his soft voice breaking the silence, the phrase that left his lips drew a curve on your lips. “i love you, y/n.” you weren’t looking at him, but you could perceive the smile he had. “so much.”

“i know,” you replied.

serim’s steps became slower as he looked at you, waiting for the actual response. with a tilted head and shining eyes that reflected your figure and the street lights, his gaze didn’t waver.

a chuckle left your lips, finding yourself lost in his eyes for a moment. “i love you too, serim.” you squeezed his hand, cueing him to continue walking. “so much.”

sighing out of content, a radiant smile decorated his lips.

at that moment, the two of you wished nothing more but just to be next to each other for as long as life would grant you.

how can he forget about your first anniversary?

it wasn’t grand, just the two of you sitting by the balcony. the bouquet he bought abandoned on the dinner table as the two of you gushed over plans you were sure were realistic enough to be achieved. your eyes twinkling with mirth, a lifetime with him sure was the ideal one you’d want to spend.

“y/n,” despite being just beside you, serim called.

you looked at him with a brow raised, catching his eyes on yours. “mhm?”

a smile simply spread onto his lips before he broke the gaze. his hand seeking for an item inside the pocket of his hoodie, a small box retrieved afterward. there, a necklace sat. the pendant was of a ring that was not entirely decorated with fancy stones, rather a lone blue sapphire stone was on it.

“the pendant is a promise ring,” serim explained before scooting closer to you. his hand reached for the back of your head while the necklace rested on your skin. he locked the jewelry on your neck, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead after.

you were silent the whole time, not because you didn’t like the gesture. but because you were sure words wouldn’t be enough to express the satisfaction and light feeling that was blanketing your heart.

serim had a faint smile as he admired the necklace for a moment. just like you, his heart was in an ocean of peaceful joy. lifting his head to look at you directly, he gave your lips a light peck. “i’ll buy you a better one once we’re ready for it.”

“thank you.” your countenance mirrored the same expression serim had— of joy and serenity. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too.” serim leaned in for another quick kiss, swift yet lingering. “i can’t wait to spend a lifetime with you.”

the evening droned on and on with the two of you staying by the balcony, exchanging conversations about the future. two hearts in one home, seemingly able to find the path where both can hold each other’s hand. minds filled with dreams where the other can also be spotted. a considerably spacious studio apartment became the foundation of your plans and dreams.

aspirations that soon became the neglected cause of why your relationship with him gradually crumbled down.

how can he forget about your very first fight?

gazes that held no definite emotion, silence that cut through the air— it was all an unfamiliar experience, hard to swallow. something that you weren’t able to forget easily as it was the first time you’ve ever seen serim with such a cold expression.

the coaster of shows on the television had long passed, a few recaps played. something that wasn’t really able to get a hold of your attention. your mind drifting elsewhere and the few notifications appearing on your phone were the only ones that managed to pull you out of your daze momentarily.

“where’s serim?” for the nth time that day, you asked. the room was quiet with only a few chatters from the screen in front of you. the evening was growing older and older, but you haven’t received any message about serim's whereabouts. neither had he sent you a message the whole afternoon.

worried, you opted to stay up and wait for him. even prepared a meal that can be easily heated so he can have something to eat once he arrives in case he hasn’t eaten anything yet.

with the door clicking, you were quick to get off the couch. the faint footsteps signaling you right away.

“you’re finally home,” you said, a smile easily located on your brim. only for it to melt away at the sight of serim’s stern look. his gaze piercing through, enough for chills to trace your spine.

he walked past you, not even offering you the regular hugs and kisses he would do every time he’d arrive. all that was left were cold stares. something you attempted to break. and heck did you regret doing so.

“why haven’t you been answering your phone? have you already eaten?” the worry you had accumulated coming through in waves of questions.

a sigh was emitted out of his mouth as he went to get himself a drink. it seemed like a verbal response was not an option for him since he continued to ignore your questions. at this point, it was as if there was no one else in the room. it was like you weren’t there.

“did something happen, serim?”

a minute. it was all it took for the entirety of your relationship to come to an unknown turn. the curve strange, it crawled to the skin with such a frigid touch enough for your stomach to flip horribly.

“can you give me a break?” serim hissed, a glare shoot in your direction. his voice growing power word after word. your breath was taken away, how can words suffice to make you feel so small? he placed his glass on the sink, the item almost meeting its demise. he turned to look at you once again. “can’t you see, i’m tired?”

“i waited for you.” the words spilled out of your lips, disappointment hugging your tone.

“who told you to wait for me?” serim snarled and before you knew it, you were already standing on the same page. similar expression, different cause. yours were anchored in concern, while his were of fatigue from the whole day of heavy workload. those seemed to have lulled both of your senses, blinding each other.

“oh well, i was just worried about you because you didn’t send me a message the whole afternoon up to this point.”

“do i really need to report my actions to you?”

“no, but you have to at least tell me if you’re going home late.” your voice gradually softened, a tear held back.

no, you can’t cry. no, not in front of him. no.

“i was worried,” you broke out. but it wasn’t enough for his fumes to dissolve. like gasoline poured into flames, each of your replies only intensified the exasperation boiling in his stomach.

“i’m going to rest.” serim sigh was audible as he stormed off to your room, leaving you with tears in your eyes.

a minute.

it only took half a minute for everything to fall out of its order. that fight wasn’t the last one and each passing day, the unit you once called home was stuck with unfamiliarity.

it was no longer a home.

how can he forget about that night?

cold meals by the table had your eyes fixated on them. the date encircled in red, a supposedly special day that turned bitter. different from how you used to spend it before—of laughter and warm touches— serim wasn’t there. he was far too involved with projects that your shared unit only became a short shelter. words were barely exchanged, yet alone gazes. you still sleep on the same bed as him, but no warmth was offered.

you weren’t sure which was better, to continue living with him even if it felt like you weren’t living with him or to have him gone in your life for real. regardless of the turns that occurred, the continuous erosion of your relationship, you couldn’t find it to yourself to let go. still tied by your attachment to the former serim.

a sigh left your lips, desolated gaze trailing on the table. you tried. but it seemed like those attempts were futile. it takes two people’s efforts. you can’t revive a relationship alone.

switching place, you went to the living room and sat by the couch. the place dimly lit by a lone lampshade. the city lights filtering through the window. the air gradually thickened around you, it held your throat in a vice grip. the photographs displayed by the shelves were foreign to you, despite how it was simply you and serim. it was like you were staring at completely different people. smiles had long been taken away, touches had melted, flutters subsided— all that was left was a terrible feeling of helplessness. something that seemed to guide you to nowhere. you were lost.

before, you were sure of how the story was to be written. how the chapters were to unfold. but right now, you weren’t even certain what would be on the next page. it was like the next ones were torn from the spine, gone. oh hell, you weren’t even sure what page you were on right now or if the story was bound to be written in the first place.

serim’s arrival went unnoticed at first. only until you heard the clink of the glass meeting the sink did you turn in his direction. an empty gaze was earned and for some reason you found yourself offering him a faint smile. a small gesture packed in pain that was quick to course through your senses.

sighing had become his way of greeting. dark circles under his eyes and the disheveled look emanated how his work had been weighing him. but your mouth was closed regardless of how you wanted to speak of reassurance and praise. it was strange, the inability to speak of warm words around him. why were you so held by fear?

“serim,” you called, breaking the floating silence.

he looked at you, eyes deep like he was examining a piece of fabric. it was enough for your stomach to churn. the stillness continued after your call. you weren’t sure how to continue it; it was as if his name was unnatural in your tongue. not only was your breath sucked, but also all the possible words had dissipated.

yet again another sigh as he tore his gaze away, stepping towards the bedroom. “i’m so tired, y/n,” he uttered, setting a line for you to not cross onto. “very tired.”

resurfacing on your brim was a smile. your eyes weren’t exactly skillful of lying though as tears soon gathered on it. heart hollowed in emptiness as if a scream would echo on its wall. likewise, your voice decided to betray you— shaking. “serim, i’m getting tired too.”

for a swift moment, serim tried to come up with an answer. but just like you, comforting words seemed to be an unfamiliar language. even aware of how a look would be inadequate, he only stared at you. his eyes don’t speak of words nor radiated comfort— it was vacant. lowering his head, he carded his fingers on his hair before letting go of a breath.

serim finally stepped inside the bedroom.

and that was how the two of you parted ways.

how can he forget about you?

it went on and on in your head, the question continuously striking.

a gush of autumn breeze pulled you out of your daze. serim was still looking at you, his eyes slowly lightening with recognition. a few blinks and he spoke. “oh, wait.” he tilted his head to the side. “y/n?”

you weren’t exactly sure what kind of answer to give, but you gave it your best to offer a faint smile. “yes.”

still— despite how other people were walking on the sidewalk and how vehicles passed by the road, the surrounding seemed to come to a stillness you didn’t ask for. denying and pushing away the feelings you’ve long ago tried to bury and made yourself believe that you’ve healed from only brought a new wave of pain. as if you were its child, sadness came to hug you.

just in time, the bus arrived as if to save you from further drowning in emotions you didn’t wish to engulf you in. to your surprise, serim also boarded in. while you chose to sit somewhere just nearby the driver, he went to the last row.

usually, your rides on the way home were the most relaxing ones. a time to just stare at the window and watch the night spread into the city. it will always be accustomed by jungmo asking you on and on about how your day went and also sharing about how his day went. but your brother wasn’t around for that kind of support right now. and you can’t blame him for it. you can’t blame anyone for this unexpected meeting with the person you never knew you’d ever meet again.

the ride was sickeningly slow, all you wished was to get home and allow your voice to echo in your room. to release the emptiness if it was even possible to empty something that was already vacant. the sky held no comfort. its color dissipated and all that was left was an empty canvas that like a broken record, played memories. it was silly how despite those quick memories popping in and out of your mind, questions still managed to penetrate.

serim was living in another city, why did he ride the same bus? was he to meet his new lover? maybe to meet an old friend?

or did he perhaps mean to meet you? this was a guess you despised. the hope it brought that maybe an answer for all the questions formed that night were to be given tasted bitter in your mouth and offered restlessness in the heart.

an urge to talk to him surfaced, but then you asked yourself why. why would you want to talk to him? for what?

despite being curious about the reason why he left that night, a certain fear crawled onto your senses. the fear of knowing.

what could knowing his reasons possibly bring you?

the time when the two of you loved each other wasn’t of the best timing. two newly graduates seeking career growth, wanting nothing but to achieve various goals. those were dreams drawn with the other person placed as a part of it. however, during the process of achieving those, that same person where the aspiration was rooted gradually disappeared from the mind. the path the two of you promised to take together came at crossroads and you ended up taking something different from what he preferred to go to.

at first, there was a powerful yearning that made the two of you grow more fond of each other. but it was slowly replaced by numbness towards it, making love such a foreign word.

you understood. but it wasn’t something you had fully accepted.

a familiar shed came to flash on the window, your stop nearing. and when the vehicle finally came to a halt, you gave serim a final glance. he was looking at you, not moving from his seat. dismissing the contact, you walked down the bus and began tracing the sidewalk with heavy steps.

disappointment curled into your stomach when you arrived near your house, realizing that the recurring questions will not be answered. however, fate played its game. anxiousness arose when once again you heard your name wrapped around serim’s voice.

you turned to look at him, his lips hesitant to let go of a word.

serim was also in deep thoughts, mind all over the place despite how he already had the resolution to talk to you, not to explain and justify himself, but to apologize for the damage done.

“i’m sorry for that night,” serim began, the initial words already clinging into his chest, weighing down. “i should’ve been more honest with you and trusted you more with my struggles.”

there was nothing serim wanted but to prove himself worthy of you. achieve things that could make you be proud of him and deem him as someone who deserves you. working up to late hours, diving into designs in order to perfect his craft. the thing was, he forgot that you already loved him even when he was simply that serim. that you loved him as park serim.

blinded by the goal, the mean diminished. as he was too caught up with it, he was no longer striding towards it for you, but for himself.

“it was selfish of me to decide for something we both should be deciding for. i left that night thinking it was better that way without even considering how you will feel,” serim continued, his voice weakening. he lifted his hand as if to hold you, but stopped midway. it fell to his side as he breathed in. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.”

“i was hurt, but you were probably hurt as well.” the way those words left your lips ever so calmly surprised you. “it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but i hope we both learned from it.” a smile became evident on your visage. “promise me one thing serim, do not make the same mistake with your future lover.”

“i will not,” serim replied.

both of you never really imagined the end of your relationship and as the page of it was torn years ago, an ending was deemed impossible to earn. closing a book would never be that easy, but some stories were meant to end— yours included.

“also, this is for you.” serim handed you the paper bag he was holding. “i told you years ago that i’ll make you a better dress, and here it is. i figured that i wouldn’t be able to keep the promise laced on the ring i gave you before but i at least want to have one of my promises kept.”

you looked at the item for a moment before turning to serim once again. “thank you.”

“i also want you to know that i truly loved you.”

never at once did you doubt serim’s love for you. the thing about it is that people will grow and know love from a better perspective. know how to best keep it. know how to best show it. but it will not change the fact that back then, you felt that it was love.

serim had a single flaw and that was to hold everything to himself to the point that those created a wide gap between the two of you. the distance far enough that reaching his hand became impossible despite how you wanted to hold him.

and maybe during that time, parting was the best solution. and up to this point, it was too.

“it’s nice seeing you again, serim.”

“likewise, y/n.” a genuine smile crossed his lips. “goodbye?”

“goodbye.”

tonight, you gave him a piece of your heart. it was his, to begin with. whatever he was to do with it— keep it, throw it, crush it— it was a decision for him to make. keeping something that shouldn’t be there would only bring further destruction, it’s way better to have an empty spot in your heart rather than keep a damaged one.

the breeze embraced you. the goodbyes uttered were to serve as a beginning. there were new questions that formed and you knew there were tears that were yet to be spilled. but it was a start. opening a buried wound would never be pleasant, but it was way better to open it yourself than have it bare you.

staring at the newly planted hyacinth in the neighboring flower bed, you let go of a sigh. they will bloom in the spring. and you hoped that you would experience the same.

#cravitywriters #cravity imagines #cravity oneshots #cravity scenarios #cravity x reader #cravity angst #cravity fluff #serim x reader #serim #this has been in my drafts for quite a while...#finally got that push to post it u_u #cravity

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achliegh · 4 years ago

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Golden

(Sorry if this Chapter is lack luster :/ )

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Ladies Love Country Boys

Bonfire Playlist: Spotify, Youtube

Watching Airplanes

Chapter 2:

Cowboy Sweet Ass sent you a Location

New Message from Cowboy Sweet Ass

See you there ;)

Finn was nervous, he wasn’t gonna lie, Logan and Him are leaving tomorrow for Gryff and this is the last night they can see Leo. Who, neither of them will admit this, has kindly wiggled his way into their brains for every minute of everyday. Sometimes to break a long silence between the two of them they will talk about Leo. How they were going to cope when they can’t see him again is unknown and something he didn’t want to think about.

They hadn’t actually seen Leo in the past five days, with their training schedule and Leo helping set up a charity arena for the thing they were supposed to meet him at tonight, it was just late night calls that were still kinda awkward at times. But always had them smiling as they fell asleep.

Walking up the dirt path, where the uber had dropped them off, Logan and Finn weren’t sure they were in the right place until they saw the huge crowd gathered around a tall metal fence with bleachers and an announcers corner that's up on a hydraulic lift, speakers set up so people can hear the quick talking of the men commenting on whatever was happening.

Horses and people on them were everywhere. This causes Logan a lot of stress, as someone who is terrified of horses… This is not ideal. Especially when one is trotting toward them at a scary fast speed.

Finn recognized Clayton immediately, trotting over at a leisurely pace on a cool looking horse he waves. He notices Logan hiding himself completely behind Finn’s back. Finn held his hand out for Logan to take and squeeze if everything got too much for him. Logan wasn’t good in big crowds.

“Well look who it is!” Clayton hops off his living vehicle and patting her neck. “Let me introduce you to my babe, This” He gestures towards the mare, “Is Leroy, she is a Blanket Appaloosa! Have you guys met Peanut yet? He’s chilling with Eloise, Leo’s mom, you better hope he likes you or else… yeah, or else.” Clay flashes them his slightly crooked but stupidly white smile as he absentmindedly pets Leroy’s neck.

Feeling a squeeze of his hand he looks back to see an absolutely terrified Logan, not knowing about his fear of horses Finn is just confused. So, he goes into a ‘ get Logan alone’ mind set.

“We will find you in a minute, we’re gonna explore!” Finn smiles back and Clayton nods as he swings his leg back over Leroy and clicks his tongue so she struts back towards the group of other yeehaws on their own horses, they all had numbers pinned to their backs which was weird but Finn guessed Leo would explain later. Claytons was CR243, and it looked like it was about to fall off. He notices how someone would go in real fast and then come out after a minute or two. The announcer talked too fast for him to catch.

Leading Logan to a more open area he turns to face him and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, what's wrong?”

“Ummmm, J'ai peur des chevaux….” Logan isn’t looking him in the eyes and has an embarrassed flush to his face. Finn, having no clue what he said, gently grabs his chin to make him look at him, Lo hasn’t run his finger through his hair yet so that means he isn’t nervous around Finn at least. Fixing Logan with a slightly irritated but still worried look, Logan sighs and tries to say something but instead what comes out is a terrified yelp as something takes his hat off his head and pulls some of his hair at the same time, then drops it at his feet.

Whipping around and jumping into Finn’s arms bridal style Logan shrieks as he is met with a blonde horse that almost looks smug. The little splotchy white stripes on its snoot may make it look kinda cute but Logan knows what can happen if you get on a horse's bad side. It happened to Sydney, he didn’t need it to happen to him too.

“Peanut!” A very tall and beautiful older woman walks over to them laughing a little, she has a hearing aid in her left ear and soft blue eyes bright with amusement stare them down. “Sorry Y’all, he likes to find new people to mess with.” She smiles and there is just something so familiar about those deep dimples and sharp cheekbones. She is wearing tight jeans with knee high army green cowboy boots, a white button up with a black cowboy hat contrasting the golden curls falling out from under it. She is wearing a sash with the words ‘Miss Louisiana 1971’ the wrinkles on her face didn’t make her look old and crinkly like people like to think, but more like a gracefully aging woman. She holds her hand out to Finn for him to shake, Logan is still in his arms so it is as much of an invitation to him as Finn. “I’m Eloise, this is my son’s horse.” She looks them up and down after shaking both their hands. “He would like you two.” She smiles one last time, giving them a giant wink and leads Peanut away from them back to the bullpens where they spot Leo sitting on the top of a fence talking to a couple of people.

Finn looks at Logan and sets him down.

“So.. horses?”

“Shut up”

“You go for a cowboy and are afraid of horses!” Finn is bent over laughing and clutching his stomach while Logan crosses his arms and looks around annoyed after he dusted off his hat and put it back on his head.

“What’s so funny?” they look over to see Leo in full get up. Smiling bright, showing off his chipped tooth. His hair was flattened by a black sturdy cowboy hat, his blue button up vibrant under his black vest. The vest had a couple of logos stitched into it for Absolut Vodka, Mt. Dew, and Ariat…. Leo was sponsored? He was also wearing some jeans that fit him just right around his booty that they could see through his assless black chaps that had iridescent tassels on them, with his black boots and belt to match. His silver buckle stood out with the light reflecting off it.

“Wow… you look great.” Logan just melts into Leo’s side when Leo wraps an arm around his shoulders. “But tell Finn to stop being a jerk.” Logan put on his best pout when looking up at the taller man, who looked at him with a look that made his heart feel like it was about to jump out of his chest. It didn’t alarm him though, it was nice to feel like this. But it can’t last forever.

“What's he doing that's so mean.” Leo turns his attention to Finn who is smiling at them like he's watching two kittens cuddle into each other. His eyes bright with happiness, his smiles wide.

“He’s making fun of me because I’m scared of horses.” Logan wraps his arms around Leo’s waist and squishes his cheek into his chest to look as cute as possible, so Leo will be on his side. Which… fails.

“You’re afraid of horses!” Leo hugs Logan as he starts laughing, smacking a kiss on the top of Logan’s annoyed forehead and squeezes him. “You’re so cute.” Suddenly they hear numbers coming over other speakers and Leo perks up. “Oh I’m up soon! I hope y’all are gonna stay and watch because I would love to take you to the bonfire tonight.” He pulls Finn into the embrace and gives them both a quick peck on the lips, smiling when they chase his lips. “There should be an open spot in the bleachers or, you could watch from Peanut.”

“Bleachers!” Logan gets out of Leo’s arms and starts pulling both the boys towards the crowd without horses. Leo helps them find a spot next to some girls who flirt with Leo but he has no fucking clue. He is just focused on getting Finn and Logan a good spot.

“Alright, my number is BR11710, so when you hear that you’ll know I’m up! I think Clay might come and find you, he had a good run earlier wrangling those troublemaking claves, so keep an eye out for him.” He smiles and climbs down the bleachers gracefully until the last small step where his spur gets caught and he has to yank it out of the cevous it got stuck in. Looking back up at Finn and Logan his cheeks were red as he shrugged and sauntered off towards the chutes.

“Hola losers!” Clayton plops down above with and slaps a hand on their shoulders. “Excited to see him ride? Or have you already? Actually I would know because we overshare way too much.” Smiling, Clayton is covered in dirt and his cowboy hat has been traded out for a ball cap and his button up taken off to be just a white tank top. A tall pale girl sat down with Clayton and was scrolling on her phone looking uninterested. Clayton sits up and wraps an arm around her waist. “Oh this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” She looks up and gives them an irritated wave before going back to her phone.

“Ride? What’s he doing?” Finn looks at him confused after sharing a look with Logan about the irritated girlfriend, then they hear the announcers call Leo's number.

“Alrighty ladies and gentlefolk! We have something special for y’all! One of our very own PBR riders is here to ride the roughest toughest bull of the day! Ole Forty Days!” The crowd cheers as a confused Finn and Logan look at Clayton who whoops and hollers for his bestie. Whistling with his thumb and forefinger in his mouth.

“Alright Jimmy lets get in some commentary before the ride starts, Leo Knut is a 19 year old Professional Bull Rider, his Mother is Eloise Knut also known as Miss Rodeo of 1970 and Miss Louisiana of 1971. His father was Wyatt Knut, Air Force Veteran who was also Leo’s biggest role model.”

“Was?” Logan whispers and gives a sad look to Finn who is busy watching Leo, he is on this tank of an animal, large, white, horns the size of his whole forearm. Leo was adjusting the way he is sitting and has an underside grip on the rope around the bull, wrapping it around his palm to make sure there isn’t a tether that can be stepped on and yank him off.

“Ole Forty Days is the only PBR bull here today, worth millions he is undefeated 32-0 in his career this year. Will Leo who is 30-2 this year be able to stay on those eight seconds.”

Leo hits the challenge button and the gate flies open, Ole Forte days is wild! Finn is automatically on his feet as he watches Leo with his hand up in the air, eyes hard from focusing and counting in his head. Forte turns a 45 degree buck and just about tosses Leo but his grip is so tight that he lasts those eight seconds. The announcers went crazy the entire time.

As he dismounts the still bucking bull his wrist gets caught in the rope he was holding earlier because of the way his glove is falling apart. The rodeo clowns distract the bull fast enough for Leo to get himself detached, falling on the ground. The bull tosses Leo onto the ground and just misses stomping on his ankles. Leo hops onto the fence, the adrenaline is pumping through his veins and his eyes are bright as he searches for the boys in the stand watching him with fear etched into their faces. When his eyes met Logan’s the fear turned into relief and Leo felt the adrenaline making his heart beat even faster.

After Forte is corralled back into the pen to have the rope around his hips removed Leo jumps off the fence and takes his hat off bowing to the crowd, and they love it, whistling and whoops are heard. He points to Finn, Logan and Clayton. Clayton is so excited and starts dragging the other two down the bleachers leaving Ashley behind. Leo doesn’t like her at all so it's fine. Leo turns around and walks towards sports medicine and lets them take a look at his wrist. As his adrenaline starts to fade away the tweak in his wrist starts to bother him as the medic wraps it up.

“You just ruined Forte’s career!” Clay hugs him from the side and picks him up all excited, his girlfriend who decided to join looks at them unapprovingly. Finn and Logan basically tackle Leo to the ground once Clay puts him down. One on each side of him, balanced.

“Are you insane! That could have killed you!” Finn is shaking a laughing Leo by his collar as Logan examines the way his wrist is wrapped.

“I know, I technically wrecked at the end but I still got my eight seconds!” He smiles and takes his hand from Logan, cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb over the soft skin.

“You never told us you rode bulls! Leo, a little heads up would have been appreciated!” Logan whacks him on the back of the head after they stand up.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?” Leo puts an arm around them and kisses their temples. They had an idea. Where to do it was the question.

The rodeo ended not long after Leo’s ride, the charities the winners chose would be given a five thousand dollar check courtesy of the Knut’s. After Leo was done taking down the arena, a large pile of wood was set up with large equipment. Leo pulled a Clayton and took off his chaps, vest, button down, and hat off so he was wearing a white shirt and a ball cap.

Leo made up for scaring Finn and Logan by pulling them into the back seat of his truck. Leo sitting in the middle of the seat with Finn straddling one leg, hunched over and sucking on Leo’s neck. Logan straddled Leo’s other leg and kissed him with a ferocity that made them both groan. Leo rested his hands in Finn’s hair and on Logan’s hip. Pulling away Leo turns his head to face Finn, guiding him from his neck to lips. He feels Logan push his hand underneath his shirt and smirks into his kiss with Finn. Moving his hands to squeeze both of their asses, causing Logan’s breath to hitch and Finn to moan. He is about to suggest something spicy when a knock on the window alerts them that the party has started.

Why does Clay always have to stick to his word? Leo asked him to let them know when it was time to move his truck to have the tailgate facing the fire, and now was that time. Leo’s head thumps back onto the seat as he lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Well, I guess we have a party to attend… I’m gonna get so drunk.” He smiles and gives his boys one last kiss before he ushers them out of the truck so he can get out of the backseat to move it.

Finn wanders over to Clayton who has Ashley under his arm, she is tall and very skinny. Her long brown hair was in a French braid, she was wearing short shorts, boots and a crop top. He has a very sour look on her face as Finn walks over to them. Logan on the other hand, goes to take a piss in the porta potty. Something he is not fond of doing.

Leo moves his truck and gets out to put the tailgate down so people can sit on it, climbing into the bed of the truck he opens the cooler in the back and takes out two budlights, Leo doesn't really care for budlight but they need to be drunk.

“CLAYTON!” He shouts as the three walk over to the truck, chucking the beer at his friend; they both take out their keys, puncturing the cans and shotgunning the beers.

A few hours and a lot of drinks later Leo was singing to Finn, standing between his legs as Finn sat on the tailgate next to Logan who was filming.

“You can train 'em, You can try to teach 'em right from wrong. But it's still gonna turn 'em on!” Finn can’t help but laugh and wrap his arms around Leo’s necklaces he sang, every once in while facing Logan's phone and singing into the camera as he filmed. Taking a drink of his beer he smacks a sloppy kiss on Finn's cheek and skips away to Clayton to dance like idiots as Luke Bryan sang about shaking it for birds and bees.

The two drunken best friends wrap and arm around each other hips with their drinks in the other hand, putting left side to right side they swing back and forth to the beat as they scream out the music.

Later on Leo picks Logan up so his arms are around his neck and his legs are around his waist and spins around while humming to a song about wheels and Finn looks so smitten that clayton takes a picture to show him and laughs as he send it to Leo, who has managed to misplace his phone… for the millionth time.

Setting Logan down he wraps his arms around the shorter man's shoulders and rests his chin on top of his head as he bounces to the beat. Logan leans his forehead to rest on Leo’s chest and uses his hand that isn’t holding his water to loop his finger into one of Leo’s belt loops he wishes he could take a screenshot in his brain.

Hours passed, singing and horrible dancing, more drinking for Clay and Leo until it sounded like a good idea to see who could crush a folding table by jumping off Clayton’s truck. Finn managed to lead them away before they actually tried it by telling them’ Leo could def dance better than Clayton’. Which turned into the worst dance battle ever seen. Two drunk teenagers and country music make for terrible dancing but a lot of laughs. Eventually, the fire dies down, the drinks run out and the boys get tired. Finn wrangles Leo into the back seat of the truck after lifting the tailgate, moving to go to the drivers seat because Logan might be to short to drive and they are to dumb to figure out how to move the seats, Leo latches onto him and pulls him into the backseat with him.

“Hey! How do you expect me to drive back here!” Finn pokes Leo’s nose and Leo catches his finger in his mouth biting him. Finn squawks and pulls his finger away. Looking at Leo offended, laughing a little as Leo is looking at him with this tiny smirk. “That was rude.” Leo narrows his eyes playfully and flips them so Finn is laying on his back with Leo snuggling into his chest.

Logan gets in on the passenger side and looks up to see Finn in the back seat being snuggled by an oddly cat like Leo who is rubbing his face on Finn’s soft t shirt, when his eyes meet Logans he blushes so vibrantly pink and has the shyest smiles as he hides his face in Finn’s chest again. Logan looks at Finn who looks like he's dying from cuteness overload. Logan moves over to the driver's seat and sits all the way on the edge of the seat to be able to touch the petals. Logan doesn’t have a clue where Leo lives… but he does remember how to get back to the hotel.

Trying to get a clingy 6’3” cowboy into a hotel room while he is intoxicated is a lot easier than you would think. He was tired, stripping down the second they walk into the door he lands on the bed in his boxer briefs and spoons Logan and grips Finn’s arm as he falls asleep.

They all slept incredibly well that night, warm, close, and together.

The next morning was the morning The Lions leave to go back to Gryffindor. Leo was up before the other two, showered and dressed when he woke them up with peppering kisses all over their faces.

“Good morning, Honey Bees. Y’all need to get up and get ready to leave, you go home today.” Leo runs his hand through Finn’s hair as he greets them with a sad smile. He doesn’t want them to leave, but he knows that this isn’t some fairytale where two princes will give up their dreams to be with him. That’s not what he wants anyway. The other two finally get up, Finn goes to shower as Logan changes and packs his bag. Glancing at Leo every once in a while, like he wants to say something.

“Leo, what are you still doing here?” Logan drops his bag by the door and turns around to face the taller man, crossing his arms and giving Leo a cold look. Leo is a little taken back by this, Logan has never looked at him like that, and he wasn’t expecting it from how nice yesterday was.

“I was to see you two off… is that okay?” Leo starts to feel uncomfortable under the harsh eyes he found so pretty, he starts picking at the wrap around his wrist, breaking eye contact with Logan as a sinking feeling seeps into his chest. He never expected anything to actually come from this but he ached for it.

He knows where this is going.

“I don’t know what you think is going to happen after we leave, but we aren’t going to be fawning over you when we are busy with our own careers. You are just… a guy who we had a fling with. Finn and I aren’t even together so don’t expect anything.” Logan's voice stayed low in volume but echoed in Leo’s ears.

“I wasn’t expecting anything. I just wanted to see you guys leave, say goodbye, maybe…” Leo didn’t finish his sentence when he looked up at an annoyed and frustrated Logan. “What did I do?” He hears the bathroom door open and Finn walks into the room whistling in fresh clothes as he dries his hair with a towel.

“You don’t mean anything to us Leo'' Finn hears Logan and knows exactly what’s going on, Logan has done this to him many times. This is Logan’s way of cutting off something he wants in a way he knows won't bring the person back, even though he always feels horrible eventually. Finn has been a victim of Logan’s lashing out many times, and he hasn’t left, because he loves Logan. He really really likes Leo, he gives his heart a similar jolt that Logan does. From what they have discussed, Logan felt the same. Logan doesn’t allow himself the luxury of feeling like this though.

Leo looks absolutely shattered after Logan’s words sank in. He looks over to Finn who looks like he��s in his own head, then back to Logan. “I really really like you guys-”

“Stop being a fucking child Leo! This isn’t something we can continue after we leave, we would get torn to shreds by the league! Not everything is about you and we don’t want you! So just go back to your fucking farm and forget us.” Logan grabs his bag and walks out the door slamming it shut, going to be the first one on the bus that just pulled up to take the team to the airport.

Leo stares at where Logan was when red catches his eye, Finn stops and gives Leo a sad smile, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. Finn then turns his back to Leo and follows Logan out the door. Leaving Leo alone in the hotel room… He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the hotel keycard, standing up he goes to leave it on the table of the room, he stops just before he sets the key down.

He takes the card and walks out of the room, Climbing into his truck that was horribly parked, he finds his phone on the floor of the passenger side. Picking up his phone, he calls up the only person he knows who would be willing to hang out even if he was sick from last night.

“Clay? Can you meet me somewhere?”

A half hour and some McDonald's hash browns later. Clayton and Leo were sitting on top of Leo’s truck hood watching the airplanes take off, sipping on soda they got with their food. They watched in a comfortable silence as planes brought people in and took people away.

Logan and Finn were on one of those.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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setterspirit · 4 years ago

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long time no talk, huh?

❥ ‑‑‑‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑

the game had gone by agonizingly slow for suna, because now that he knew your name, he wanted to know if you were her, his best friend from childhood. he cheered when it called for it, stayed silent when atsumu would serve (really nothing had changed from high school), and searching for you between breaks, hoping to catch sight of you and maybe, depending on how perceptive you were, possibly ask you with his eyes if he could talk to you. eventually he found you, across the stadium, sitting with tsukishima and mai, cheering for both kageyama and hinata.

komori noticed suna’s actions, raising an eyebrow curiously at the fox eyed middle blocker. osamu caught on and mouthed “i’ll explain later” to komori who simply nodded skeptically and let suna continue to stare at you across the way.

between your excited cheering for two fo your favorite people in the whole world, to tsukishima’s annoyed comments about how loud you were cheering, to mai’s laughs as you continued to cheer, you didn’t notice the eyes on you, though in the back of your mind you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. you were just being paranoid though, right? who would be staring at you? and if they were, then why would they be staring at you? it wasn’t something you could explain, so you just shook the feeling off and continued to cheer.

at the end of the game, tsukishima meets up with the rest of his first year volleyball team, you and mai following behind because he’s your ride. you excitedly greeted kageyama and hinata, giving both high fives rather than hugs seeing as they were still sweaty. then tsukishima claims he’s had enough of socializing with his old teammates, waving goodbye to them and gesturing for you and mai to follow. you and mai quickly caught up with the middle blocker, still speaking quietly amongst yourselves as tsukishima led the way to the car, driving you both home before he too, headed for his own home.

suna had seen you leave, following quickly behind the middle blocker and whispering quietly with mai, but he chose not to follow, rather, he stayed with osamu, komori, and washio, greeting atsumu as he came out of the locker rooms followed by sakusa and bokuto. suna smiled and congratulated atsumu on the good game, rolling his eyes when osamu and atsumu started to bicker, just like the old days. sakusa and komori were quietly discussing who knew what, and washio was simply off to the side, having congratulated bokuto already. suna went to stand next to the other middle blocker quietly, waiting for komori to finish up what he needed to so they could go back to the teams home.

komori had finished soon enough, heading over to the pair of middle blockers, waving to osamu as the trio left, getting into komori’s car to head out. suna got into the passenger seat, having beat washio to the door, the latter cursing at suna for stealing that spot.

as soon as they were safely buckled up and on the road, komori couldn’t hold it in anymore, so he finally asked the question that had been burning his mind since he noticed suna’s actions. “suna, what, or who, were you staring at during the breaks?”

“oh-” suna muttered, clearing his throat in shock, surprise etched onto his features because he didn’t know komori had caught him. “um- well, when ‘samu and i went out to get dinner, we went to this soba shop that this group went to as well, and there was a girl there that looked so familiar... then ‘samu said she was at the game and that he got her name and- well, let’s just say...i may or may not know who she is.”

“what do you mean ‘may or may not?’” washio questioned from the backseat, eyebrow raised questioning despite the fact that suna couldn’t see it.

“well, it’s been- over ten years since i last saw her, i mean she has the same name, and there are some small signs like the way she smiles or the way her eyes twinkle that give off the vibe that it’s her, but...” suna replied, glancing out the window, missing the look komori and washio exchanged from the mirror.

“well, since you know the name, try finding her twitter, she might be on twitter,” washio suggested, suna nodding slowly in agreement.

first, he typed in ‘l/n’ to no avail, then ‘l/n y/n’ again to no avail. his last hope, which was a huge stretch considering a lot of people could have your name in their users, was to try ‘y/n.’ just as he was about to give up on his search, he came across your profile, the handle making his eyebrows crease in confusion. clicking on your profile, most of your tweets were about someone named eito, the same eito mentioned in your bio, at least from what suna could guess. from reading your posts, he found that eito was your child, and that you seemed to treasure him more than life itself, not that he could blame you when he came across some photos of you and the little boy.

continuing to scroll through your tweets, he was about to give up all hope when he came across an interesting tweet...

his heart jumped to his throat as he stared at the tweet. hyōgō, where she used to live before she moved. no, it couldn’t be her, could it? he knew they hadn’t talked for more than ten years, but just how much had you changed since he’d last seen you?

fingers shaking as he pressed the follow button, didn’t catch the quiet question from komori, worry etched into the liberos features when he glanced over to the seemingly nervous suna. rarely had the libero ever seen the middle blockers usually disinterested or lazy facade fall, but whenever it did, it never failed to throw komori for a loop.

suna quickly typed out a message to you, quickly pressing send before he could chicken out and take back his messages. he was terrified for your response, but if you remembered him, if you could somehow reconnect with him, it would all be worth it, nerves and all.

then he clicked his phone off, though his nerves never eased as he waited for your reply. he was so tempted a few times to go back and delete those messages, but he decided against it, wanting to see for himself if you remembered him or not. little did he know you were already at home, curled up and asleep, aiko having put eito to bed.

when you had arrived home, you profusely thanked the teen for watching over eito on such short notice. she reassured you that it was fine and that she loved coming over to hang out with eito. smiling thankfully, you paid aiko for her services, tipping her a bit extra for the fact she was able to come and babysit on such short notice, before she got a text from her parents to say they were waiting for her to drive her home.

then you started to get ready for bed, going about your nightly routine before you got into bed. no later had your head hit the pillow were you out, quietly snoring peacefully. not too long after you had fallen asleep did your phone ding quietly from it’s place on your nightstand, lighting up the dark room with the light from the small screen.

boy, would you wake up to a surprise tomorrow morning.

TALK ABOUT SURPRISES

[ masterlist | three | four | five ]

word count; 1.2k+

fast facts;

fact #1; suna is nervous because it’s been so long since he last saw y/n that he’s not sure if she remembers him or not. not that y/n would be any different. she would be just as nervous if she were in suna’s shoes, if not more nervous.

fact #2; aiko has been babysitting for y/n since eito was a year old. she absolutely adores the child, happy that she’s been able to see the little kid grow up. she was actually the one that found eito when futakuchi had left him at the amusement park. at first she had shaken off the feeling she knew the kid, but upon closer inspection, she found that it was, in fact, eito. she questioned what sort of idiot would leave eito alone at an amusement park until futakuchi had come to get eito. then it all clicked for her. she knew of everyone in y/n’s group, knew how they all were when it came to the little kid.

fact #3; komori has only ever seen suna break down two times, either time not knowing what to do. he usually ends up calling osamu to see what suna needs, as the ex-wing spiker probably knows better what suna needs than he does.

fact #4; y/n has wanted to go back and visit hyōgō a few times since coming back to japan, though she usually gets busy whenever she is able to even think about that, hence the (at first joking) tweet.

✨) summary; l/n y/n is a single mother living with her 5 year old son in sendai. suna rintarō is a professional volleyball player, the middle blocker for the ejp raijin. the msby black jackals vs the schweiden adlers is a game between two of japan’s v league division 1 teams that bring together many old rivals. y/n is dragged to the game by her cousin, tsukishima kei, claiming she needed to get out and do more than just work and take care of her child. reluctantly, she goes along with the usually salty blond — leaving her 5 year old with a babysitter — to watch the game between two of tsukishima’s ex-teammates. suna makes the executive decision that he will be going to the game to support his former teammate and setter, miya atsumu, with komori asking if he could accompany the middle blocker so he could support his cousin, suna readily agrees and they also invite washio to go with them, knowing he’d want to see bokuto as well. a chance encounter at the game of old reunions brings together two old friends and feelings start to re-emerge. follow y/n and suna as they get to know each other again, fend off any unwanted attention, and work through parenthood in “talk about surprises!”

updates every monday!

taglist; @pieckiya @its-the-aerieljeane @amatee @crayonwriting @reblogthatgoodfanfiction @mint-mai @akaashiwife @kac-chowsballs @sugarb0 @bdanie @the-golden-jhope @goodpop9 @navymacaroons @tendo-sxtori @sirachano0dles @seijqhigh @hannahlxu @mattsunsupremacy @winunk @briidge @kageyamasgirl @yongboxerrr @kiyoovmie @elianetsantana @ofmiceandsharks @bokutokita @honeydrip @tycrackculture @madmelle @kitkozume @gushinim @luckypartyranchmug @kenssister

bolded and strike through means i couldn’t tag you!

check out the masterlist to see how you can be added to the taglist! <3

#talk about surprises #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu smau #haikyuu suna #haikyuu suna rintarou #suna rintarou #suna rintarō #suna rintarō x reader #suna rintarō smau #suna rintarou smau #pro volleyball!suna #suna x reader #suna x y/n

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plus-ultra-oof · 4 years ago

Text

Break Time! | Bokuto & Kuroo | Haikyuu!! | Tickle Fic

A/N: This is one of the fastest things I’ve ever written lol. I love Bokuto and Kuroo’s friendship a lot but this could be read as Bokuroo too.

Disclaimer: Includes swearing and minor spoilers for the timeskip (Kuroo’s future plans are vaguely mentioned)

Summary: Kuroo’s working himself to death with exam season on the horizon and Bokuto has just the idea to “help.”

——————————————————

Upon a third glance at Kuroo in just a few minutes, Bokuto had determined something was wrong. He could hear him sigh and shift in his seat from where he was sat on his bed. It wasn’t in the restless way that Bokuto was feeling right now though. It was a lot more tired. He narrowed his eyes at his friend, taking in his stiff posture and tense jaw. Rubbing his eyes with one hand Kuroo scrubbed an eraser across his paper with the other, the movement far harsher than necessary. He craned his neck to read something out of a textbook and his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to comprehend it. The near silence in the room aside from his friend’s quiet frustration was honestly freaking Bokuto out.

When he’d shown up at the other captain’s front door, he’d been ready to go get food, screw around in his backyard, and maybe see an action movie or something. They’d planned this for weeks in advance —their schedules were both pretty packed— and as far as Bokuto knew they were both really looking forward to it. He’d prepared to just mess around and have some simple fun, so he was really surprised when Kuroo opened the door with a tight frown on his lips and not at all dressed for a day out.

“Bo?” Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows as his arms came up to cross over his chest, “what are you-“ Realization took over his features and after a few mumbled curses to himself, Kuroo opened the door further and let him in. The house was the same as Bokuto remembered it: Clean, but still clearly lived in. The mild clutter was charming in its own way and Bokuto had seen it when he’d visited his friend in the past. Kuroo himself was actually the only thing that seemed different.

His hair was messier than usual somehow and the beginnings of dark circles were smudged under his eyes. Instead of his usually clean and neat clothes, he was in a ratty white t-shirt and some old looking red sweats with “Nekoma” written down the sides in faded white block letters. It wasn’t just that though, all of his apologies and attempts at conversation also seemed off as he led Bokuto up the stairs to his room. Like his heart wasn’t really in it with his mind so preoccupied.

“Sorry man, I completely forgot, my bad it’s just-“ he cut himself off with a sigh as he heavily dropped into his desk chair. Bokuto felt overwhelmed just looking at the numerous stacks of heavy books lining the desk, so of course he hadn’t protested when his friend asked for another hour to finish up. He hadn’t been excited to sit and do nothing for an hour, but even he wasn’t going to complain when the usually cool and collected guy seemed so frazzled.

So after running back down to the kitchen to grab some snacks, he’d settled down on Kuroo’s bed to wait, scrolling aimlessly through his phone to try and quell his boredom and keep his restlessness at bay for a bit.

That, of course, didn’t work for long. After maybe 50 minutes —a new record!— he started stealing glances at Kuroo over his phone and as time continued to pass he became more and more concerned. He could practically feel the stress rolling off him in waves as he flipped through another workbook, so Bokuto did the only thing he could think to do at the moment, with what little information he had on whatever was happening; He messaged Kenma.

After tapping out a simple “whats wrong with Kuroo?” he’d set his phone down, not expecting much from it. Even though he barely contacted the guy on his own, Bokuto knew Kenma was terrible at responding to anyone who wasn’t Hinata. This obviously meant his chances of getting a reply before the day ended were slim. He practically jumped to grab his phone when it lit up again, only minutes after sending the message. Pretty damn fast for Kenma of all people.

From Kozume Kenma:

entrance exams. he’s been like that all week.

Ohhhhh. That made sense. Bokuto looked over at Kuroo again, as he glared down at his calculator, a new kind of disdain burning in his eyes. Bokuto hadn’t given the exams much thought honestly, but to Kuroo they surely mattered a lot.

When Kuroo told him that he was going to be quitting Volleyball once they graduated to pursue a career in the marketing side of things, Bokuto’d both understood completely and not gotten it at all.

He’d never really know how anyone could give up something that gave him such a thrill and brought him such joy. Sure, Nekoma wasn’t exactly a powerhouse school, but Kuroo was still a damn good blocker. He surely could’ve made it onto at least a division 2 team if he tried. Still, his friend was different. He wanted something else and that was okay. What wasn’t okay was the fact that he seemed set on working himself to death for it.

To Kozume Kenma:

k im gonna fix him

This time the reply was instantaneous. A simple “good luck” that felt suspiciously like Kenma doubting him. He scoffed, looking over at Kuroo again. The guy was probably even more tired than he looked. Koutaro could definitely take him in the messed up state he was in. Then again, he was incredibly stubborn when he wanted to be.

Bokuto glanced down at his phone. He’d already gone 20 minutes over the promised hour. That plus the whole week Kenma described had to be enough time for now. Going for that long without a real break sounded insane to Bokuto, and there was no way it was healthy either.

“Hey Kuroo,” Bokuto called, sitting up and grabbing his phone after sending a final text off to Kenma (An assortment of emojis portraying his confidence and competence at the given task). When his eyes fell on Kuroo, he hadn’t moved at the sound of his name.

“Kuroo?” He tried again. Still no response. It seemed the blocker was lost in his own world of textbooks and pages on pages of meticulous notes. Bokuto practically shuddered at the sight. He didn’t know how his friend could stare at all of that for so long.

Standing and taking a few steps away from the bed landed him right behind the desk chair. He frowned. Kuroo still hadn’t even noticed him moving around. Then he reached across the desk to retrieve a different colored pen and an idea popped into his head. Bokuto, always quite the impulsive person, followed it without question.

He quietly set his phone down on the opposite side of the desk to free his other hand and then reached out and jabbed him in the ribs on both sides. The action was instantly rewarded with a jolt and a squeak from Kuroo, a clatter from his pencil when it fell from his hand, and a loud triumphant laugh from Bokuto himself. Kuroo whipped around, scowling, “What the hell, man?”

“Your hour is way up bro,” Kuroo raised an eyebrow at him and scrambled for his phone. Once he found it beneath a large stack of colorful print outs, Bokuto saw the suspicion and slight annoyance in his eyes turn into guilt.

“Shit,” he turned to actually face him and Bokuto could see the way his shoulders sagged and his hands fidgeted in his lap in a very un-Kuroo-like fashion, “I’m sorry Bo,”

Koutaro gave him a bright smile in an extra effort to assuage his guilt, “It’s no problem, we can just go now!” He exclaimed, straightening and nodding at the door. Kuroo hesitated at that but before he could say anything, Bokuto’s phone chimed from its place on the desk. It lit up for both of them to see and Kuroo’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Why’s Kenma texting you?” He asked. A hint of his usual smirk flashed across his face as he peered at the deadpan emoticon, familiar and characteristic of his childhood friend. Bokuto bristled at the question. Why wouldn’t Kenma text him? Sure they weren’t exactly close, but Kuroo didn’t need to look so smug about it!

“I text a lot of people!” He replied, tucking his arms to his chest petulantly, “and you were busy,” he added before he could think better of it.

Kuroo immediately deflated at the reminder of his work. The glimmer of his usual playful self vanishing as he looked back over at his collection of practice booklets and papers and whatever else was strewn across his desk. Then he bit his cheek, and Bokuto knew he was going to argue before he even forced it out.

“Bo, I should probably keep going,” Kuroo frowned, his words almost pained, as if just the idea of going back to studying hurt him. That was what really solidified everything in Bokuto’s mind, “Maybe we can-“

“Nope,” Bokuto said succinctly before launching his attack with the overwhelming energy of a hyperactive athlete who’d just sat in one place for way too long. Kuroo squirmed in place as the spiker snuck a hand up his side. He was unable to stop from giggling already, too caught off guard by the suddenness.

“W-Whahahat the fuhuhuck, Bokuto?”

Bokuto shrugged and used his other hand to scribble at his neck. He made no effort to hide his shit eating grin when his friend squeaked in response, attempting to lean away in the chair, “You’ve been doing this for wayyyy to long,” he chuckled, grin only widening when the best defense Kuroo could muster was to slap at his wrists. Weak at best, but compared to his usual struggle, it was even more lackluster for the self proclaimed provocation master, “You can barely even fight back!”

“Shuhut uhuhup- Bohoho!” Kuroo’s volume went up in slight alarm. Bokuto grabbed onto his arm, using it to pull him out of his chair while simultaneously continuing his attack on his waist. Then he sent him falling back into his bed with a gentle shove, easily maneuvering him into a semi-pinned position with a practiced grace. Now with one of his arms held firmly away from his side, Tetsuro was feeling a lot more vulnerable. The shift was evidenced in the more frantic giggling as he tried to muster enough energy to pull away from Bokuto’s playful torment.

“Don’t worry, we can get you some barbecue! It’ll fix you right up!” Bokuto exclaimed, as if he wasn’t currently digging his wriggling fingers into Kuroo’s stomach to make him shriek louder. Still, he shook his head wildly.

“Ngh- ahahah ihihi- ihihihi neheheed to stuhuDy!” He tried, his voice shooting up an octave when Bokuto decided that the dips in his hip bones were a suitable place to grab and squeeze. Damn Bokuto and his stupidly extensive knowledge of this particular weakness.

“Mmm no,” Bokuto responded, slowing his fingers to fluttery circle to let the other captain breathe, “From what I hear you’ve already done way too much of that! It’s break time!” Kuroo took in the extra air greedily. As he did, he leveled his friend with an incredulous stare.

“How did you even-?” Kuroo started before his expression dropped and his eyes darkened in realization. His gaze went back up to Bokuto’s face where he was leaning over him curiously, “Kenma,”

“Yup,” Kotarou laughed boisterously and nodded his confirmation, “This is an intervention man,” The blocker scowled and started to say something that sounded like the word “traitor” but he was quickly cut off by his own hysterical giggling. The break was over, and Bokuto had decidedly shoved his hands higher to scratch at his friend’s ribs at the sign of continued resistance.

“He- aHA shihit! Hehehe’s lying!” Kuroo yelled through his laughter, desperately trying to catch Bokuto’s wrists as his hands seemed to continue crawling their way up his torso, “Lehehehet mehe uhuhup!”

Bokuto scoffed and smirked at his panicked movements, “Not a chance,” His hands didn’t pause for a second as they avoided Kuroo’s grasp. When they honed in on the space between his top two ribs he threw his head back with a helpless cackle. Bokuto had to bite down on a fond smile at the sound, “Now come on! Just say you’re gonna stop overworking yourself and come get food with your best friend!”

“KehenmahaAh’s my behest friehehend!” Kuroo jeered defiantly, apparently still sassy despite everything. Bokuto narrowed his eyes and dug into his ribs harder, making him throw his head back with the force of his laughter.

“Rude,” If Kuroo wasn’t so busy dying, he would’ve teased Kotarou for the childish pout on his face, “but fine, your second best friend,” he corrected laboriously, as if the Nekoma student was in any place to properly respond to him.

“Gahahahah yohou’re ridihiculous!”

“Blah blah blah, let’s go get food Kurooooo!”

“I hahave to- wahahait! No no no Bo DoHON’T!” The resounding screech that Kuroo let out when Bokuto’s fingers finally made contact with the soft skin of his underarms was priceless. He fell into a fit of insane laughter as the other captain watched proudly. His hyena laugh even made an appearance, sending Bokuto himself into manic giggling as he set about driving his friend crazy. “BWAHAHAHA NOHOHO NAHA BOHOHO!”

“What was that?” He teased watching as any final hope of escape fell away, leaving Kuroo a laughing mess. His hair was skewed all of the place along with his clothes that had ridden up in his struggles. His face was bright red, from embarrassment, laughter, or both Bokuto didn’t know, but it was entertaining any way. It was also comforting to see that even in his almost catatonic pre exam state, his friend was still capable of loosing himself in something as simple as tickling.

“FIHIHINE! FINE FINE FIHIHINE!” Kuroo screamed, giving up his pride at last. Anything was worth it at this point just to stop the sensations taking over his brain. All he could think of was the way Bokuto’s deft fingers were scribbling over his underarms and how no matter how he jerked or squirmed or squeezed his arms to his sides it just wouldn’t stop. He could never handle being tickled there long and Bokuto was taking full advantage of that information, “AHAH YOHOHOU- GahHAH YOU WIHIHIN DAMNIT JUHUHUST STAHAHAP!”

Bokuto shot up from the bed, stopping to throw his arms up in a cheer. His loud shout of “HEY HEY HEY!” in victory was lost on Kuroo though. He was too busy trying to catch his breath where he laid K.O.ed on his bed. Still, when Bokuto finished celebrating and turned back to him he looked better. Still tired, but significantly less stressed out of his mind.

Even as he punched him in the shoulder in revenge, his posture had relaxed and there was a wide grin left on his face. And as the last of his giggles faded away, Bokuto was inclined to believe that it was genuine.

“Come on bro, I wanna go check out the new Rec center by the park!” Bokuto yelled, earning a raised eyebrow from Kuroo as he moved around his room, picking out new clothes for their outing. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into his laundry basket before turning to face him.

“I thought you said we were getting barbecue?” He asked, amusement coloring his tone as he picked up a new shirt. Bokuto smirked.

“Both,” he replied, squeezing Kuroo’s sides as he lifted his arms to put it on. He laughed loudly, batting his hands away and shaking his head.

“Ahaha enouhough!” He giggled, taking a few shaky breaths. Then his taunting tone returned at last, “As long as you’re paying man,” His usual smirk was now secured back in its place, for better or for worse.

Then he ducked into the bathroom just in time to avoid Bokuto’s distressed groan. Rest In Peace his wallet.

Still though, he was admittedly happy that Kuroo was back to normal, even if that meant that he was back to being a stingy jerk.

#Bokuto Koutaro #Kuroo Tetsuro #ticklish!Kuroo #haikyuu! tickle fic #tickle fic #tickle #tickling #tickles #fanfic #thanks for reading

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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

Text

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty | Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I (Part 2 of 2 | His POV) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Song Referenced

• • •

did he give you an exact date?

Unfortunately, no.

At first, I had at least until the end of the year, but…

CPS wants this resolved quicker than he thought.

guessin' you need to finish tourin' the underground first then, right?

Yes.

Would it be possible the day after tomorrow?

Or just… sometime this weekend?

I can go by myself, but…

Asgore won't allow that unless I'm with someone else.

Says I shouldn't be walking so far and so long alone if I haven't recovered yet.

you don't need to go alone, either way.

be it my job or not, I still wanna help out.

so the day after tomorrow's fine with me, bud.

we can discuss those details better when we drive over to tori's school tomorrow.

Are you sure?

And…

Does that 'we' imply you'll be picking us up?

100%

but yeah, i'll drive you guys there.

and pick up paps on the way, too.

it's easier for all four of us.

Mhm.

don't believe me?

Oh, I believe you.

I just don't think that's the only reason why you're picking us up, when I already have the address.

so what's the other one?

Don't get cocky, Serif.

I'm not gonna type that out.

It's a godsend Frisk will be with us, too.

'Cause I sure don't trust being alone with you anymore.

inna bad way?

Nah.

niiice.

pick you guys up tomorrow, then?

Yes.

We'll see you tomorrow.

And thank you in advance.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ waving goodbye ∆

"You've changed, Sans."

He ignores that comment to view (Y/N)'s last two messages again.

While he doesn't know why that particular sticker bothers his mind so much, a few scrolls up to revise his chat history with the human reveal this is the first time they've shown any sort of informality or spontaneity in their typing. (Y/N) came off cold in their texts, though -- based on how they acted outside of a chat app -- that wasn't their intention, but more of an automatic way for them to talk with someone they didn't exactly deem trustworthy enough yet. He grins at that thought and feels his face warm up, something he confirms when touching his cheekbone, cold palm contrasting with that heat.

"You're wasting your time with that human," Drunk Bun says, snapping him out of his daydreaming.

They've sat themselves on the bar stool next to him and slam what looks like their tenth can of cheap, off-brand beer against the counter, crunching it down into more than half its size. He doesn't know how long they've stood there or why he's lost this much awareness of his surroundings. The bar's practically empty and calm now compared to before, though there's loud music blaring from the jukebox, playing an already overplayed song on repeat. There's no excuse for his distracted mind other than having lost himself while texting with the human, so he admits that fault with partial sourness, against accepting he's that smitten with them.

"You're changing for the worse," his company adds, narrowing their eyes at him. "Every time we come here to catch up, you mention something stupid about that (L/N) person, or just text the whole evening away with them. I... I've never seen you worry so much about someone so inconsequential." They scoff and cross their arms tight. "I may understand you caring after Frisk as a way to repay them for rescuing us, but (L/N) is completely useless. They've done absolutely nothing remarkable beyond creating a huge scene at that bus you were both on."

"Being harassed by a rando and faintin' after's them causin' a scene?" Sans asks, quirking an eye socket.

"Oh, screw off, bone boy -- You know what I mean. They've brought you nothing but trouble and needless responsibilities!" The bunny grits their teeth and slams their hand over the table, dragging eyes to their side. "I'm betting you can't go a day without texting them or without you doing something for them."

"You need to-"

Beep-beep.

The phone is snatched from his hands just as quick as that noise rings.

"Give that back."

"No." They keep the phone right above him, taking advantage of his shorter height. "Your fault for not putting a lock on it."

Drunk Bun scoots away and holds the phone tight as they fumble with it. Then, they stop to look at what he assumes is another text message from the human. A grimace shows on their face and they grasp the device tight, enough to make the screen complain and warn them over the pressure they're exerting against it. "Now this is beyond pathetic, Sans," they comment, letting out a loud, burst laugh. "Is this seriously the one you're sacrificing your entire personality for?" They give him his phone back, though not before hesitating when it's time to let go. "That human is-"

"Gimme a sec."

His attention falls on the picture displayed on screen, revealing (Y/N) and Frisk posing in it. The adult wears a suit and tie while the child has Toriel's school uniform on. The former's pose appears forced and awkward while the latter seems to be the reason the picture was taken with how excited they seem about their outfit.

Frisk wanted me to show you this.

It's what we'll be wearing for tomorrow!

There's a three-minute interval between that and the next message.

I know classes still haven't started there, but… They wanted to wear it, so I joined them by trying on something special for, well…

That job offer you told me about.

I don't know if I'll accept or not yet, but…

Thank you for the opportunity, and for believing in me.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ giving a thumbs-up ∆

"You're grossing me out, honestly. What kind of look is that?"

It takes him a while to react, focus glued on (Y/N)'s messages.

"What look?"

"That lovesick look on your face." Tears form on their eyes -- almost abruptly, hadn't their voice shaken right before that. "I- I've been flirting with you for years, and yet you've never once looked at me like that before." They stand up straight, stare down at him, and rest their hands on the table, blinking their tears away throughout. "I've known you for so damn long, and yet you fall for the first human you see up here? I-"

"So that's what this's about," he says, chuckling. "You're-"

"Don't you dare brush everything off as me having a crush on you, Sans." They hiss. "You're not the same as before, and that's as clear as day. You worry a lot more now, and… And you actually seem to care more about other stuff beyond your job and sleeping on it. Y- You-"

"Aren't those good things?"

"Maybe, but your entire personality changing isn't. I liked you better when you were less worked up with stuff that's none of your business." They stop to grab his phone again; a grin breaks the sorrow on their face. "But hey, y- you're just doing your job, aren't you? You should set things straight with that human and remind them you're only with them because Asgore told you to in that agreement letter you gave them."

"Won't work if I flirted with 'em first. Pretty sure they'll see right through my lies."

"Y- You flirted with them first?!"

"Yeah."

He dodges a punch aimed right at his face.

"Wait-"

They throw a second punch -- this one turning out to be a spoof -- and laugh at the sight of him falling for it; they then toss the phone high over his head after he's finished dodging that fake attack, and aim yet another punch right after.

He salvages the device, though at the cost of taking the blow right on his left eye socket.

"How can you admit that so easily? You're awful!"

"'Cause you're only a close friend. I don't owe you an explanation about who I'm dating, and even less if you're gonna be actin' this way."

Drunk Bun springs at him, only to be held back by the rest of the regulars sitting near the scene, sufficiently fast enough for them not to wrangle Sans in anything major. They struggle and thrash at everyone around, trying to break free, but failing each time. It takes a fully-armored guard dog and a buff bear for them to be fought back into their rightful place, and yet another strong monster for them to let go of a wine bottle they insist on downing when seated.

Grillby intervenes as well by warning them to calm down, unless they want to be kicked out. Meanwhile, Sans turns on the camera and looks at his reflection through it, revealing a faint soreness already forming around his eye socket -- right where his companion had punched at. Being primarily made out of bones brought advantages, but having magical properties often led to him bruising easily.

Another regular approaches him and offers him a first aid kit, one he brings back to his seat to heal himself there.

While he takes out an antibiotic and some cotton pads with one hand, he uses the other to busy himself with (L/N)'s messages, against leaving them on read for so long.

no probs.

here at your service.

frisk looks great, btw.

and you? hot. 😘🔥

awkwardly hot.

hotwkward.

Frisk is reading the replies, you know?

damn.

i mean…

darn.

don't tell 'em i said that.

∆ Audio | 0:46 ∆

He clicks on it to hear Frisk giggling along with (Y/N) commenting they won't. It later continues with them asking if he's alright, specifying what they mean by highlighting a picture, this one sent by him. Blurriness makes up most of it when he clicks on it and zooms in, yet he can identify what looks like his companion from earlier, who'd apparently snapped and sent the human a photo by accident.

that's a friend o' mine.

they're, uh, kinda tipsy, so they got inna fight with me.

Really?

Are you okay?

yeah, just a lil' sore where they punched at.

What?!

i'm fine, puddin'.

dw about it.

Where's that bar at?

I'm near the mall, so I can drop by if you need anything.

aren't you still shoppin'?

take it easy.

I'm almost done.

Just trying out one more outfit.

can I see?

👀

Sure.

∆ Attachment | 2 images ∆

To his surprise, they're not only posing much more freely now, but they've also made the effort to strike another pose from a different angle. The human's outfit is composed of a dark green, semi-formal (suit/dress), fit for a night out. They've gone as far as to edit a wink emoji and some hearts at the corner of one -- the most flirty of the two.

So...

What do you think?

*jaw drops to floor, irises pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, soul beats out of rib cage, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of teeth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens jacket, combs skull* ahem, you look real lovely.

*bwushes* Thank uwu kindwy, handswome. I'm vewy fwattewed.

...frisk ain't there anymore, right?

If they wewe, duwu uwu twhink I'd be twyping wike thiws?

faiw poiwnt.

Anyway…

I noticed the changes you made in that copy-paste, and…

You didn't edit the tongue part out.

So…

What that tongue do, baby?

😳

…lick…

...ice cream.

🔥🔥🔥

Ah, that's hot.

Or should I say cold?

And speaking of cold…

I'm gonna get you an ice pack or something.

You should take care of where it's sore, if you don't want it to bruise more.

whatta way to change the subject away from our moment, puddin'.

but uh, thanks in advance.

Anytime, teddy bear.

uwu

owo

• • •

"Am I really changin', Grillbs?" Sans asks, emptying his beer in three long gulps. "Be honest with me."

The one questioned takes the empty can from his hands and shakes his head in what looks more like disapproval rather than him answering that question. He first warns the skeleton about getting drunk, and reminds him to stay sober if he wants an answer as well as prevent himself from drunk-texting the source of his lovelorn self. When receiving a promise from him in response, he later answers with a 'no' and that he's still the same whenever he came to visit the bar.

"So I'm only different when I'm talkin' about 'em?"

Grillby nods.

"Inna bad way?"

He shakes his head.

"Then…"

Sans is stopped with a hand over his and faced with a stern look, despite the owner of it having no eyes or mouth.

"If they make you happy, then it's alright for you to show it," a regular states, intervening in the conversation. "You're not a lifeless machine. And nobody's one-dimensional either, so you shouldn't force yourself to act the same, strict way all the time. If you want to be all mushy with that human, then so be it. Aren't you the one who always says stuff like 'nothing really matters; in the end, we'll all die'? What's stopping you now of all times? Where's that hardcore nihilist I've known since years ago?

Sans rubs the back of his neck and huffs.

Clearly, neither the regular nor Grillby understood what he truly meant to say with his questions. He didn't mind his relationship with the human, but he also didn't want his old self to be replaced by someone he wasn't, as a result. There were things he didn't want to change about his old self -- things he feared would fade away now that he seemed to be getting into something as complex as a romantic relationship. There were parts of him he needed to keep in case the world were to start over again -- in case something went wrong. He couldn't allow himself to grow soft.

A pat on his shoulder lets him know he's lost himself in those thoughts.

"It's alright to fear change, but don't let that hold you back. If you like that human and they do, too -- Then what's there keeping you from going for it?"

It's not that easy.

Still, he keeps that thought quiet and replies with, "Thanks, but I'll probably have to give that more ti-"

The door of the bar opens to reveal someone new to it, but not so much unknown to Sans, who already finds himself distracted by them. (Y/N) stands in front of the entrance, looking this way and that. Frisk holds on to their hand, while a reusable shopping bag's hung over their parent's arm; a pharmacy's logo and name can be seen stamped on it. The eldest human approaches the area with caution, until their child assures them -- once, twice, and then thrice -- they've been to this place before and that it serves other purposes beyond that of providing alcohol and provoking fights. When they look forward, he meets their eyes and tries to glance away quickly, only to be called out by them soon after. They don't take long to smile wide and bright, wave, and -- finally -- approach his side after he waves back at them.

Rather than giving him whatever's in the bag, they instead let go of Frisk's hand, ask them if they want anything to eat, and give them some money when they sign the word 'fries'. Then, they sit on the stool next to his and settle the bag on their lap. "Come closer, and close your eye sockets," they say, still smiling. "It's your left one, right? It looks really sore already."

He nods and tries to ignore the warmth in his soul when they place a hand over his.

In his favour, they let go of him not long after to disinfect their hands and slip some gloves on when these dry out.

"I-"

"Shh."

(Y/N) holds his chin with their hand and grazes their fingers against his injury, their touch slow and careful as they apply some antibiotic over and around it. They then slide an eye patch on him and assumedly check around for any more bruises, based on the feeling of their hands grazing against his torso, arms, and neck. "The ice pack's in the bag -- Remember to throw it in the freezer when you get home." They touch his chest again, even more gentle this time. "So..." He notices some hesitance when they pull their hand back. "You're not hurt anywhere else?"

He shakes his head, words caught in his throat.

"Alright, but don't look yet."

Doing as told, Sans waits for whatever comes next. He stays still and stiff, until he feels their lips brush close to his eye socket, where they lay a soft, ticklish kiss at. They do the same with his other one and finish it off by kissing his nose cavity.

"Now you can."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

...

......

🌋🔥💥 ANNOYING NOTICE TIME 💥🔥🌋

So, here's a summary of all the events happening this month, which will affect Fairytale Complex's update schedule in various ways:

1. I will be rewriting all my other fics that aren't FaiCom, since I'm pretty darn happy and proud of the new writing style I've developed with this fanfic, and so I want to implement it into my older stories (with the exception of the Tom Nook x Reader one -- I'm rewriting that one despite being recent because it started off as a wild, 3 am energy project after finishing with finals, but then I actually had way more fun than I originally anticipated, so I'll be turning it into a long fic just like this one, lol). This means FaiCom will be taking a short, 1 to 2 week break after Arc 2 (Chapter 25) ends, to dedicate some time to all 4 of these stories.

2. I'm taking extracurricular classes/hobby workshops this summer, so I need to tweak my schedule again. This means FaiCom will be changing its schedule back to the old one, composed of weekly updates on Mondays, Wednesdays, and/or Fridays.

3. As mentioned previously, Pride Month is here, so I'll be making some one-shots and drabbles related to it, meaning updates might be slightly less frequent this month. BUT, a good majority of them are FaiCom related ones (and they will be posted on a different book to avoid conflicting with regular updates, too). More on that later on!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

@merak0

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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xonepeacelovex · 4 years ago

Text

my cinderella prince

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader

Genre: Angst and Fluff | Friends to Lovers AU

Summary: You’ve been waiting for a text message but you got different message this time.

Warning: Alcohol consumption. Also not proofread.

A/N: This is the result of binge reading all of Mark Tuan’s fan fictions. This is also my first GOT7 fanfiction. I know I did an incorrect quotes before for GOT7. :) Anyway, this is lowkey based on real life and I wrote this for closure because I had enough of the waiting game. I’m letting people go so new ones can come in in my life. Feel free to send me a message or ask. Thank you for reading!

10... 9... 8...

Everyone around you is shouting the countdown and already popping the bottle of champagne. Different colors and shapes of fireworks light up the night sky, making everyone more excited and at awe.

7... 6... 5...

Four seconds before the clock strikes 12, and the beginning of the new year. You look at your phone and scroll the notifications. You are met with notifications from Instagram from the pictures you are tagged in and a few last minute greetings from your family and friends. Deciding to answer the greetings later you press the power button of your phone. Getting the open bottle of red wine and pouring yourself a drink. Finally smiling, relieved that the year is ending. Quietly joining the countdown.

3... 2... 1...

People clinking their glasses and you simply raises yours, smiling warmly to everyone. You sip from your glass and started greeting everyone a happy new year. Though New Year’s Eve is something you always celebrated, you sometimes still get overwhelm with how noisy it can be.

After drinking everything on your glass, you put it down on the table and started your little quest of finding a quiet place in this party. You followed a couple heading upstairs, head shaking at how the holidays spread love and happiness in the air and somehow forgot someone like you. You found an open empty balcony, a perfect place to clearly see the fireworks.

You felt your phone vibrates on your pocket, instinctively getting it. You open your phone, a smile on your face, kinda expecting a message from a particular person, only for your smile to turn into frown when it is another notification from Instagram.

Disappointment should be the last emotion you should feel tonight. Yet somehow, you cannot stop yourself from feeling it, mostly for the fact that he didn’t missed a single greeting for the last 10 years. Sighing deeply, trying to shake off the sadness bubbling in your chest.

Looking up, the fireworks are still decorating the sky. In some way, being alone makes you feel less lonely. Downstairs everyone has someone to put their arms around and kiss when the clock strikes 12. Here, in a balcony, watching the night sky alone, actually makes you feel good. Promising yourself that this year you will celebrate your birthday and new year on a beach, somewhere where it is okay to be alone and not look at with pity because you don’t have someone beside you.

Perhaps its the alcohol taking over your system, the one responsible for your thoughts. Who told you its a good thing to pre game before coming to a New Year’s Eve party, where you’ll surely drink just before your limit? Slowly breathing in the polluted air of the city, hoping it will help you sober up a little.

You left the balcony in search for a bottle of water, you cannot let yourself get too drunk. When you found a glass of clear liquid, you drank it immediately without much thinking it will be an alcohol in which it is. You take a sharp breath, feeling the burn in your throat. Feeling light headed you immediately went back to your own little space for a fresh air.

And possibly it is really the alcohol taking over your system when you saw a familiar face in the balcony. Mark Tuan.

You stumbled forward, not believing that the man you waited a text message from for a whole night is in front of you. Steadying yourself, you take a careful steps this time, towards Mark. Where you think you looked like shit, he is casually leaning against the balcony rail, looking handsome and cool. You think, he didn’t remember you at all at how he just stare at you or maybe its because he knows you and cannot believe that you are drunk already.

Ten years is a long time to change. And high school for you is the worst era of your life so it should not be a surprised that you will be different from what he knew back then and the same goes for him.

After a long time, you finally reached the balcony, grabbing the rail for support. You can see clearly now his face and from the way he smiles at you, you know he knows you. You returned his smile with a grin, “Tuan,” greeting him like before. “Y/L/N,” he replied, smiling widely this time.

You forced yourself to look at the fireworks and stop the urge to keep staring at Mark, breathing in the air to sober you up. With the faint noise of people chattering in the background, he said to you softly, “Happy New Year.” Blissfully, or in reality half yelling, you greeted him back “Happy New Year!”, looking at him in the eyes.

It is silly to be disappointed at him for not greeting you on your birthday when you are barely friends even back in high school. Besides he just message you every December 31 and after that like a silent agreement between you two, no one will dare to start a conversation for a whole year unless its December 31 again.

Once in a while, Mark crosses your mind and in some way you always felt a connection between you two. You maybe treat each other as a friend or less than that but you always knew the relationship is special because what kind of friends only texted each other once in a year.

It is funny to back read your conversation, it is only every December 31. The thought that you never greeted him in his birthday made you feel guilty. In addition to that guilt, you felt disappointed at him because he didn’t greet you yesterday when you never greeted him. Losing the smile on your face, you simply look up again at the sky.

It is not a baseless assumption but an educated intuition, you like to word it like that, that maybe Mark really did have feelings for you. You are not a kind of person to believe in rumors especially if it is not from him directly. But all of your friends before always teases you to Mark. Whenever that happened, he just say sorry to you and you’ll dismiss it like a joke because of how embarrassed he looks like. Not wanting to be awkward with each other because of the teasing. So even though everyone says Mark likes you, you go ahead and found yourself a boyfriend. The teasing stopped and Mark also stayed away from you. That’s why him greeting you after high school surprised you because he knows and he apparently still treats you as a friend.

Definitely, you still like to avoid awkwardness so when the silence filled the room, you decided you should already go home. Even though 10 years is a long time to gather enough stories to entertain each other. Letting go of the balcony rail, leaning against it instead. Mark also lets go of the rail, this time turning his body to you.

You chuckle at how awkward you both are, no one is expecting to see each other. “I’ll get going,” you said to him, standing up straight now. You don't want to seem drunk to Mark so you tried your best to walk straightly not until he stop you by grabbing your arm. Pulling you towards him, making you dizzy, stumbling upon him. “Wait,” he said while balancing you in his arms, “I have something to say,” that made you even more dizzy.

Putting your hands against his chest for support, you tried to stand up alone. When you did, you remove your hands from his body, “Go ahead,” you replied to him.

“Happy birthday,” the greeting you are waiting for. Heart beating wildly against you chest, you smile at him, genuinely happy that he didn’t forget, “Thank you.”

After this night, you’ll never see him again. You are sure. No need for your heart to beat fast for him, because like before, there will be no words spoken and the hearts will still remain clueless. And you can’t play this game anymore, not when you feel emotions you didn’t felt before for him like disappointment and guilt. Because he’s just a friend who always remember your birthday, nothing more, nothing less. You will not ask for more from the universe, you started walking away. You are maybe, once again, taking Mark for granted. Actually you’ll never know because he never said anything, leaving you in the middle.

What Mark did when he saw you leaving again after giving him that breathtaking smile was to pull you back... again. You found yourself in his arms, clinging to him. You are taken aback with Mark’s actions. You looked at him, confused, “Do you anything else to say?”, tired of this push and pull between you and Mark.

“Yes, and I hope I am not too late,” he said nervously, still holding your arms. You chuckle at him, “Mark, you already greeted me a happy birthday,” tilting your head to look at his eyes which is avoiding yours. “You also greeted me already a happy new year,” you reminded him.

“No, it’s not about that,” this time he took a deep breath. “It took me years to finally have the courage and maybe a glass of wine to tell you this,” he stopped, holding your hands in his, “I like you since high school,” he confessed and that left you speechless. “I want to talk to you everyday but I don’t have an excuse except when its your birthday,” Mark continued. “It’s okay if you don-,” that’s when you decided to cut him off with a kiss that surprised him initially but he returned with the same eagerness.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for this,” smiling, you whispered against his lips. Mark also smiles, biting his lower lip when he heard you say those words. Now you know why Mark just messages you once in a year.

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bbhyeoliskooks · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do a Beomgyu Imagine where you try to break up with him cause he keeps ditching plans with you to hang out with his friends and he begs you for a second chance and doesn't leave until you agree?

ᓍृ∗੭ᐝ 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐃𝐨 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 ᓍृ∗੭ᐝ

You find that it’s best if the two of you break up.

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader (female)

Genre: 3 cups of angst, but the 4 cups of fluff overwhelms it in the end !!

Warnings: a cheesy and cute ending, cursing

Song: Best Part

(Yo, even if this seems like a lot of angst... you need to read to the end !! It’ll be all worth it, I promise. Also, I’m so sorry to the anon who requested this that it took long... I didn’t expect it to, so I hope it’ll all be good in the end! Also, unedited due to school !!)

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

For heck’s sake, where did you go wrong?

Where or what did you go wrong in your relationship?

You don’t remember doing anything destructive that would damage your relationship with Beomgyu, so why did he keep ditching you for those friends with his?

Every day he would arrive home late, his newly dyed blonde hair tangled in a mess as if had been doing something extensive for the whole day. He would place his jacket you gifted him last year on the tall chair beside your bed while you asked him how is day went. Only doing that would snap something in him, believing that you were being a pest.

You got used to it, more or less.

On nights where you would actually beg him for cuddles or a little bit of attention, he would push you off to talk to his friends on the phone. Being nosy, you would try to listen to what they were saying, but Beomgyu would whisper quietly before going to the bathroom. You wanted to go there with him, perhaps pretend to use the toilet, but he would only shoo you away to go to the one downstairs. If you remembered correctly, the longest one was until three in the morning though you weren’t counting.

You checked the electric bills the next morning, and the one for his phone was off the charts compared to normal. Maybe he had to do a favor for them, but it was a constant cycle where he would ignore you almost every day just to "help” his friends.

Not being able to anything but watch your heart slowly but surely break, you picked up a few clues that could possibly help you in this mess.

First was the ever growing curiosity that worried you, but he would only push you off since it really wasn’t your business. Each time he would glare at you as if you had done something wrong, and the part that frustrated you the most was that he was adamant on not telling you! Then was the fleeting glances he would send you when he checked his phone for messages. They would usually come during the time where you two had a date inside, so that just extremely brought down the romantic atmosphere you put up.

Third, but not the last was that he’d get angry at you when you snooped a little bit on his phone as he took a lengthy shower. This happened on the other day, specifically just a week ago. You could understand him since it was his privacy, but he was receiving a few texts from someone named Mira. There were no emoticons or emojis at the end of her contact but when you called for him to pick it up he rushed towards you, his lips tightly painted in a line. There was this mean snarl on his face when he aggressively grasped it from you, telling you to screw off.

That night you cried alone, nose dripping with snot and pathetically lingering as you waited for your boyfriend to come back and say sorry.

It must’ve been worry or something of the sort if you were acting like this. You weren’t jealous since you knew you could trust him, but why was he being suspicious? He never kept any secret from you, telling you right away because he wanted at least one person to know.

This kept going for a few weeks already so, quickly you got frustrated. Wasn’t he your boyfriend? Definitely not his friend’s, and you were his girlfriend. Trust was vital but with the time he kept losing to talk to his other friends, you couldn’t bring up the issue. There was nothing else you could do but feel your strong relationship crumble little by little each time he avoided you.

So... for the last time, where did you go wrong?

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

“Hey, Gyu? Do you want to get ice cream today?” You tugged a little on his soft, winter seasoned sweater as he sent you a small grin. You noticed right away that it was not genuine, but you ignored it in hopes that he wouldn’t say something rude about it.

Well, at least he smiled at you now! Maybe he was going to say yes for today! You specifically checked his schedule for an answer yesterday, so you hoped that he could spend time with you and only you. You even pulled out your puppy dog eyes today, so it was going to work!

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I want to hang out with my friends today. I hope you can understand.”

He put on his heavy jacket, not caring to say goodbye to you. He seemed too anxious to leave, running to the front door. Little did he know that he took your broken heart with him, purposefully forgetting to kiss you on the cheek as a goodbye. You hid your frustrated tears well this time.

You opened the door shortly after he left to see him excitedly get into his friends’ car, but you noticed that there was a woman in the front seat. You had never seen her before, who could she be?

You internally slapped yourself on the forehead, becoming frustrated at yourself for thinking too deep about this. But the fact that he had forgot about an important date weighed on your mind, and you concealed your feelings hoping that he would do something sweet for you later.

Even in melancholy situations like this, he never failed to call you his princess... not to mention, that it was your third anniversary too.

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

Weeks had gone by, and he still kept this up. The long phone calls, the glares, especially the sudden disappearing whenever both of you had a date- it was safe to say that you were drained from it.

You came to the conclusion that he didn’t love you the same way anymore. He couldn’t when he kept pushing you away from his life, but what was the cause? When did he stop seeing you like that? Were you too boring for someone like him?

There were too many what ifs and questions that kept repeating over and over in your head which caused a pounding headache in your head. You felt a little faint, although forcing yourself to do the laundry which had been laying there for a while now.

You strolled tiredly to the room where Beomgyu was scrolling and texting on his phone. Of course, he was... you rolled your eyes, putting in some effort to have a sing-song voice in front of him.

“Hey, could you give me your shirt? It’ll go with the laundry I’ll do tonight.”

“Um, sure. I could do it, if you’d like!”

Well, that was disgustingly sweet for him to offer! So now he was going to pretend that he loves you, huh? You snarled at him, grimacing at how innocent and pure his eyes were when he glanced up at you from his device. “No, Gyu. I’ll do it myself; just leave me alone.”

Beomgyu gulped nervously at your cold, snappy tone. Something must’ve been bothering you, but he didn’t want to say anything in fear that it would annoy you even more. Instead, he threw the shirt he was currently wearing towards you, to which you caught with ease. You muttered a thank you under your breath while he went back to texting his friend.

Almost fifteen minutes passed by when you separated all the clothes since you were too preoccupied with your thoughts. Your eyes landed on his shirt beside you. It was a bit dirty with a few speckles of brown on the side, but you figured it must’ve been his friends pranking him like they did every once in a while.

You grabbed the shirt on its side, inspecting it closely in the black of the room. There was a prominent spot on the sleeve, and you squinted your eyes to see it. Once you realized what it was, you dropped the shirt smack dab on the floor in repugnance.

It was a lipstick stain, hell it was a fucking rouge lipstick stain!

Hiding your face in your hands then threading your fingers through your hair was enough to show that you were frustrated. He was being unfaithful to you, and it was right under your nose! You rubbed the tear that had already fallen out of you right eye. This was it. This was the evidence that you had been searching for, for a long time.

Jumping to conclusions wasn’t the best but... certainly you could because he had been avoiding you this whole time. With the way he was acting lately, it was no doubt that he had probably lost interest in you. Of course you felt guilty that you suspected him of cheating with you, but this- this just took the cake. It was the icing on the top, telling you that hell, he didn’t love you anymore.

He was cheating on you with another woman. For how long now? You didn’t want to know, trying to save a bit of blissful ignorance from the happy scenarios you made up in your head every night before you went to sleep although he was right next to you. So close, but still so far away was a good way to put it.

The fancy perfume that wasn’t your own proved it all, as well as the lipstick stain on the side of his shirt’s sleeve.

Straightaway, you sprinted into the room, bumping into the closet door from how fast you were running. Your cold hands quivered while you gathered a few clothes from the hangers. Beomgyu sleepily walked in, rubbing his eyes at the sudden brightness from the light of the room.

“Princess...? Is there something wrong?” Hearing his voice was enough for you to dash out of that condensed room.

Crap! You totally forgot to be quiet when he was sound asleep. There was no time to worry about that though, as you snatched your phone on the drawer beside. Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows at your hastiness, perplexed at what you were doing when it was the middle of the night. He grabbed your quivering arms while you struggled to get the suitcase under the bed that you two shared.

A suitcase? What would you need that for? Unless you were leaving... all of the fatigue that dragged him down simply disappeared when he noticed that you were putting more and more of your possessions in.

“Y/N? Y/N, what are you doing?!”

“Leaving, Beomgyu!”

“Stop it! Why are you leaving?”

“Because... because- you already know! Stop pretending that you don’t want me to leave!”

A mocking scoff was permitted from his mouth, and he tapped on your shoulder several times to get your attention. You weren’t being serious, right?

“Y/N! You need to listen! I don’t fucking want you to leave!”

You continued to ignore him, shoving whatever things you could fit in that suitcase. “That’s your fault, not mine! Don’t expect me to stay with you when you ruined us!”

He ruined the two of you? You were pulling on his leg, he was sure of it. There was nothing that he did to hurt your feelings, if he remembered accurately! He searched his memory, but nothing turned up. “What are you saying?”

He waited for you to answer him, but you only threw your phone into the back of your pockets ignoring him like he did to you for weeks. Rolling his eyes at how strange you were being, he snatched involuntarily at your hands that was weak against his will.

“Stop putting more clothes into that damn thing and talk to me!”

“And what for?! Talk about our breakup? Because we’re over- if you haven’t got the memo.”

If you had said that when he was wide awake, he would be on his feet flinging you on the bed so that you would talk it out like adults... not in that way though!

“O-our breakup?! We aren’t breaking up! You can’t do that!” Those were the only things he could say in his hazy mind, willing to put up even a weak fight so he wouldn’t have the love of his life leave him for good.

“Watch me, then! You know that I can, and I will! You can’t stop me from-” he instantly wrapped his arms around you when he comprehended what you had said. You can’t leave him! He was just about to do something for you, you couldn’t leave now when things were going his way for the first time!

He inhaled the familiar scent of your shampoo that you applied just earlier today when your relationship seemed perfect. To Beomgyu, of course, not knowing of the pain he unintentionally put you through. Still he went on, tears of agony trickling against the both of his cheeks. He was having a difficult time breathing through his nose and mouth, clearly in disbelief that you were actually going to leave the door of his heart.

“Princess... please. Please, don’t leave me. You promised you wouldn’t, so please just don’t leave me.”

“Beomgyu, stop it. I-I said,” you harshly scratched against his arms, desperate to leave the embrace that used to have you in euphoria. Used to.

“I’m leaving! I was so stupid for always staying with you when you called me a pest every single fucking day! I don’t want to be with someone I love if they can’t even give me what I deserve!” Finally you pushed yourself out of his grasp, backing up into the wall so he wouldn’t pull a manipulative move like that again. He can’t just say that when he knew he was breaking your heart for the other slut he was seeing!

The fact flew past his head, and he just held on even tighter to you in fear that he was going to lose you. “I don’t understand. Why do you need to leave? Did you suddenly stop loving me? Tell me! You know that we’re absolutely perfect for each other, and that’s the way it should be.”

“We were, Beomgyu. We were perfect until you cheated on me.”

“Cheated on you?! You think I would cheat on you?! Wow, that says a lot about your trust with me.”

“Can you really blame me though? These past few months gives the whole package away, not even a damn hint. And then the repulsive perfume that was leaking off your shirt for sure isn’t mine, there’s nothing to say. It’s so obvious you’re spending time with another woman you love... while I’m here waiting in the wee hours of the night for you to come back.”

“Y/N, I-” “you what? You’re sorry? Sorry isn’t enough to make me stay.”

With one harsh push away, you grabbed your suitcase ready to leave. The front door was just right there, so you rushed to open the doorknob. He couldn’t see you like this when you were about to break down! You promised long ago to yourself that he wouldn’t see you cry, and you planned to keep it unlike him and his promise to love you forever.

When you were just a footstep away from unlocking the door, you heard a crescendoing yell from your ex.

“No, listen!”

He ripped the bag from your hands, all of the clothes that you had managed to pack falling out. Mistaken and shocked that he had arrived home early, you easily forgot to zip it up. You went to grab them smack dab against the floor, but he had grabbed your hand tightly so that you weren’t able to go away from him for the last time.

You hissed at his seemingly icy touch. He really had the audacity to do things like this when he hurt you in the first place! “Why the fuck are you ordering me to do when you’re cheating?”

Beomgyu shook his head back and forth, searching for the answer on the wall as if it were there to tell you what he had been doing. “Y/N... please understand; that’s not it.”

“Then what is it? Explain the shit that you’ve done to me this past month! It’s crystal clear that you’ve stopped loving me a long time ago, and I can’t do anything about it! So, what did I do wrong?! Please, do tell me! I don’t want my last memory of you to be in vain-” before you could end what you were going to say, he smashed his face against yours in desperation, kissing you so you could be quiet. He was planning for it to be one that caught you off guard for a little while, but that didn’t happen since he was too caught up in what was happening to realize that he still had things to say.

You responded back to his kiss eagerly, submitting to the warm lips that pressed passionately against your own. It had been so long since he had done something like this, you couldn’t get enough when he only brought you deeper. A couple of seconds had passed when the two of you had to gasp for air. He reluctantly pulled away, smirking a little bit just to tease you when you turned red at the embarrassment of him knowing you loved his kisses.

“That was the only way to make you shut up, princess. Consider listening to me, and I’ll tell you the truth.”

He took a deep breath of air, the pace of his breathing becoming quicker when he tried to speak. You looked away- anywhere from his twinkling eyes, feeling extremely disappointed in yourself for getting affectionate with him once again. The train of thoughts that reminded you over and over again that he was a cheater was shattered when he gently tucked a hair strand behind your eyes, afterwards brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“I’ve been ditching you to go to my friends because I wanted to surprise you. I thought that it would be a short and sweet month of preparation since they kept helping me, but some things got in the way. I guess the stress got to me, and I yelled at you. I’m sorry...”

Oh no... your heart dropped to your stomach, horror only an understatement at how rude you were being. Immediately, you had to apologize for being such a dumb idiot for not trusting in him. He was being so kind to you while you accused him for being with another woman. You felt terrible, now knowing that he only wanted to make you happy. That was until he placed a blissful kiss on your hand, the edges of your lips becoming a small curve from how truthful he was being.

“I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, so I asked one of their girlfriends to help me with one of these things.” You tilted your head, a bit puzzled at his statement. “Like what?”

“Just close your eyes for a second.” He booped the tip of your nose lovingly, and you glared at him to hurry up and stop teasing you. “I don’t see your point-” he quietly chuckled at your endearing stubbornness. “Just do it, please?”

You heard the shuffling of his clothes, growing confused each second. Once he told you to open your arms, you found him kneeling in front of you, his eyes shiny and pure from the tears that had fallen down. Even in the dim light of the room, you could see that he was smiling softly.

When your eyes roamed farther down even more, landing on the luminous diamond perched in his hand, you raised in eyebrow in confusion.

Wait, was that a ring...?

Its band was golden and shimmering overwhelming the darkness surrounded the two of you. It was the middle of the night when you decided to leave him, but you couldn’t when he suddenly pulled that beautiful thing out! There was a diamond in the middle, reflecting many bright colors off the moon when he pointed it towards you.

You gasped in shock. Where could’ve he had the time to buy something as gorgeous as this? Surely, he wasn’t going to say those sweet words...

“You’ve always dreamed for this moment to arrive, right? Well, I guess I should say them now just so that you know that I truly, dearly love you the most.”

“We can’t end like this because of my foolish ignorance. If we did that, I know my world will fall apart without you. You really are the coffee that I need in the morning, I can’t do this without you.”

“We’re soulmates, and you can’t ever say that we aren’t. You’re going to be bind to me forever, so I guess I just have to ask this one time.” His voice trembled when he looked back at you, the courage that he had built up for a while crumbling when you raised a surprise eyebrow at him. He wasn’t going to be surprised if you rejected him from the way he had been treating you, but he just needed to ask.

“Will you marry me, princess?”

Waves of realization rushed over you again and again while you watched one of the tears in his eyes fall out from how happy he was to finally ask you the question that you’ve been pining for all your life. He was going to marry you after three years of your relationship! For the first time in forever, you didn’t need to wonder what life could be without him because you knew that he was going to be by your side until the two of you went to heaven together as breathtaking angels.

This journey of prosper was going to be difficult, but yet it was so beautiful. He was yours, and you were his. Even if it takes a long time for the two of you to really fall in love with each other, you’re glad that it’s him and only him. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You threw your arms around him in pure joy, relishing in the way that he had hugged you back with the same, reciprocated love. Giggling, you hoped never to let go of the warm embrace he enclosed you in, tightly gripping the back of his head as if he would disappear any second. You shut your eyes, sniffling silently at the precious feeling he had gifted you after a stressful argument. Only he could make you feel this special, if not being your fiance wasn’t enough.

What other answer could be, if it wasn’t already a yes?

“O-of course, my prince!”

With one strong, effortless pull, he took you into his arms and swung you around while you both laughed from the euphoria that was rushing through your veins. His smile was so big this time, and you took the opportunity to reciprocate the same delight. It seemed as if everything had stopped in time, reminding you that everything was going to be fine.

He slowly set you down on the floor again, holding you in his arms as you gathered your effort to stand up straight. There were tears in his eyes, but he didn’t want to show you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank gosh, you said yes. I’ve been dreaming you to say that for a long time...” He somehow brought himself much more closer to you, his nose pressing against your cheek. There was a faint smell of his cologne from the sweater that he owned, and he inaudibly groaned in your ear. Your saccharine perfume was always the best for him, whether you realized it or not, but he found it absolutely precious whenever you wore his home clothes looking so innocent like that. You just grinned at his little wish, pecking him on the cheek. “How could I not? You said it yourself, we’re soulmates.”

Like the many times in rough patches of this relationship, you realized that you couldn’t go wrong in this relationship as long as you remembered to trust Beomgyu.

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

Posted: 9/29/20- 8:18pm

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spine-buster · 4 years ago

Text

t h e c o l o u r o f a c o n s t e l l a t i o n | elias pettersson

Summary: Life comes at you in moments. Elias and Svea are on solid ground now. Back in Vancouver after an idyllic time in Sweden, they are faced with personal decisions that will affect their future together – both on separate and different paths professionally, though personally their connection is stronger than ever. Many things are up in the air, but one thing that Svea and Elias know for sure is that they will always be together. So how hard could those decisions be?

Word Count: 15k

A/N: This is the final part of “The Space Series” although there will be an epilogue (because this bitch loves an epilogue). It’s a bit more piece-y than I wanted it to be, but at the end of the day I’m still proud of it and I hope you enjoy! We need more Petey love around here!

PART ONE - MADE OF OUTER SPACE // PART TWO - LIPS LIKE THE GALAXY’S EDGE

Svea got the text message from Grace while she was in class. I’m here to pick you up. Don’t ask questions. And don’t check your notifications.

Svea did as she was told, but that didn’t mean that her heart wasn’t beating out of her chest as she left her seminar room and saw Grace’s Porsche at the bottom of the steps of the building. When she approached, Grace reached over and opened the car door. “What’s going on?” she asked, sliding into the passenger’s seat and clutching her messenger bag against her chest.

“The stupid media picked up your stupid boyfriend saying he has a girlfriend on a stupid camera, and now it’s everywhere,” Grace explained in an annoyed voice, signalling to rejoin the road. She was very clearly annoyed, judging by how fast she rejoined the other cars and by the rev of her engine. “You know, for such a quiet guy he’s got a big mouth.”

“And how do they know it’s me?” Svea knew how stupid that question sounded the millisecond after it left her mouth. She and Grace gave each other the exact same knowing look, one that said absolutely everything that needed to be said between the two of them. It began happening as they grew closer, and now, it happened almost all the time. “Never mind. Why can’t I check my notifications?”

“Because God knows what’s going on in your DMs right now,” Grace warned. “Anyways, what do you want to do? Go shopping? Go for a manicure? How about we go for a manicure so you can’t check your phone.”

Svea couldn’t help but laugh. She knew Grace was protective – had been since that night she came over to Elias’s place with Pippa and Svea was making sausage stroganoff – but this was taking it to a whole other level. “Do you think it would be that bad?”

“If it’s anything like what I got from Brock’s fan club, then yeah, it’s pretty awful,” Grace said. “And I’m serious – manicures? You’re going to have to start getting them regularly if you want to be a hot shot lawyer,” she winked. “Or, I don’t know, the speechwriter for Chrystia Freeland or Justin Trudeau. Whatever you choose.”

***

When Svea walked into hers and Elias’s apartment later that day, after she’d been pampered with some Starbucks, a manicure, and a pedicure, and even a cheeky mimosa by Grace, she found Elias lying down on the couch scrolling through his phone. She put down her bag in its usual spot before walking over to him and lying on top of him without warning. After an entire day without him, she wanted to get close to him, to feel every inch of him.

Elias smiled as she nestled into him, ditching his phone and paying complete attention to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him. When he kissed her, she sighed into the kiss, knowing that she was home and in her favourite place: the place where she felt the warmest, the most protected, the happiest she ever could feel – in his arms, of course. And as they continued kissing on the couch, not bothering to stop for air – because really, who needed air when you were kissing the love of your life? – Elias shifted their bodies so Svea was on her back, and he was on his side perching himself up with one arm while the other snuck under her button-up shirt. With his hand gliding against her bare skin and his tongue down her throat, Svea moaned slightly. Elias took the opportunity to start unbuttoning her shirt to expose her bra.

“Elias…” she breathed out.

“Shhh…” he kissed along her jawline and down her neck. His hand groped her breast. He pushed the fabric of the cup down and began kissing along the curve of her breast until he reached her nipple, sucking on it gently. Her back arched up to him. “I missed you,” he finally hummed.

“I was gone for eight hours,” she huffed out as she felt his tongue slip along her skin. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt him move towards her other breast. She was gone at least a few hours some days because of classes, so it wasn’t like her absence was out of the ordinary.

“Too long.” He sucked on her other breast. When he heard her moan again, he kissed a trail back up to her lips. Eventually, he grabbed at her wrist – the one wearing the bracelet he got her in Stockholm – and placed a kiss on the inside of it tenderly. She was trembling by the loss of his lips on her skin, but she smiled at the gesture. “Hello pretty girl,” he cooed playfully.

“You’re the worst,” she huffed again, annoyed this time.

“How was your day?”

She couldn’t believe she was sprawled out on their couch with her shirt unbuttoned and her bra pushed down with her breasts exposed and Elias was asking her how her day was. He was playing a game and she knew it. “Besides the fact that I still don’t know what I’m doing with my life? Fine,” she said. “How was your day? I heard microphones are really strong these days.”

Elias closed his eyes and groaned. He buried his head in her chest and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot sometimes. Brock told me that for such a quiet guy I have a big mouth.”

Svea snorted at the reference. For all that Grace and Brock liked to say Svea and Elias were the same person, she and Brock were astoundingly similar as well. “Grace said that too.”

“Well, you know how they are,” he said, resting his chin against her chest, in the space between her breasts.

Svea ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s fine, Elias.”

“Is it though?” he asked, worried. “I don’t want anybody to bother you. Not now, not ever. But especially this year when you have so much to figure out.”

“They’ll just be noise. They’re not a part of my life,” she assured him. “Not like you.”

Elias sighed, moving up and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. He inhaled sharply, smelling her scent that he loved so much. She smelled like everything he loved about her – flowers; vanilla; lavender; the saltwater waves of the Baltic Sea crashing again the Swedish shore; the crisp Swedish air during an early morning, though now it was later in the day and they were in downtown Vancouver. She was magic to him, made of the moon and stars, and he wanted to keep her safe and happy as much as possible now that it was out in the open, however unwillingly, due to his big mouth. “I love you,” he mumbled.

“I love you too,” she said easily. Easily because she knew – it was the only thing she was certain about in life these days. “Can you do me a favour?”

“What’s that?”

“Can you keep using your tongue, Elias?” she asked boldly, a small smirk playing on her face. She was getting more confident with all of this – not just their new situation, but the activities that accompanied their new situation. She felt safe and listened to and respected and catered to whenever she was in bed with Elias, always satisfied. Elias, for his part, was also getting more confident with everything.

“Oh?” he arched his brow at her words. “Keep using my tongue, eh?”

“Eh? Canada’s really getting to you.”

“Mmm,” he mumbled, kissing her chest. “Let’s git er done,” he put on an accent.

Svea burst out laughing, shaking her head and pushing him away like she was disgusted with him as he tried to continue to kiss her. She began wiggling to get out of his grip. “Nooooo no no no no, not after you said that with that accent!” She knew his teammates were responsible for that bit of lingo coupled with the accent, and while it was hilarious, she wasn’t exactly happy with it. She knew Elias would use it constantly now.

“Come ooonnn!” he begged, laughing and grabbing at her body so she wouldn’t wiggle away.

“We lost the moment the second you put on that accent!”

>< >< >< >< ><

Svea loved the UBC campus. It was so beautiful, with enough old buildings to make it feel regal but enough new buildings to make it feel modern. And the trees – God, the trees – the campus was full of lush trees, so many and so close to the water. When she was stressed, she could always take a walk down the coast and admire the Pacific Ocean, the mountains in the distance, and the crisp British Columbia air. After being at UBC for going on four years now, she understood why her mother loved it here so much; why it was so hard for her to give up when she moved to Sweden to be with Svea’s dad; why she constantly talked about it growing up, like it was some magical place not fit for the real world. Svea understood now. She thought the same things. She didn’t think she’d ever be lucky enough to experience the things that her mother did growing up in Vancouver, but she did; she got that experience now, in university, with her own love of her life.

Despite all the stress in her life and the looming decisions she had to make, she at least had that: Elias, the love of her life.

As she grabbed her coffee from the barista and made her way to the seminar room, where she’d spend two hours learning about global uprisings, she thought about the decision she’d have to make this year. On the one hand, she could go to law school – another three years of school, articling, and then pass the bar (all hopefully in British Columbia), and then she could join a firm or open her own. She was already prepped and signed up to write the LSAT. On the other hand, she could apply to the Masters of Public Policy and Global Governance program – another year and a half of school, gain her Masters, and then hopefully work in politics, but in the background, like a chief of staff or a senior advisor or even a speechwriter. She had all the prerequisites and knew she could get in.

But which one did she want to do?

Svea settled into her seat beside her friend Devansh, greeting him with pleasant conversation while taking out her laptop, notebook, and textbook, flipping it open to the chapter that she knew the professor would be lecturing about. Her big decision seemed to be the only thing she thought about these days besides Elias. But the more she thought about it, the more stressed she got. And the more stressed she got, the more—

“So, like, you’re dating Elias Pettersson?” her friend Francesca asked as she plopped down into the seat beside her dramatically. Instead of grabbing her notebook and laptop out of her bag like she usually did, she was intently focused on Svea who was sipping on her coffee innocently.

“Wait – Elias Pettersson, like from the Vancouver Canucks?” Devansh perked up once he heard the name being tossed around. “That can’t be…that’s not…no.”

“Wow, Dev,” Svea deadpanned.

“Wait – you are?” his eyebrows raised.

“H-How did you know?” Svea focused back on Francesca, still perky, still not taking out her laptop, still not taking out her notebooks.

“So apparently Petey said something on camera? And this journalist from the Vancouver Sun, like, scoured his Instagram and his tagged photos and found your profile kept popping up tagged in pictures with him, so the two and two were put together, and there’s an article about it on their website today! It came up as a notification on my phone!” Francesca held up her phone as if it was still there. It wasn’t – it was full of Snapchat notifications, but the point still stood. “I mean, they’re right, aren’t they? Svea Nilsson…you are dating Elias Pettersson?”

Svea was mortified. Elias had the common sense to just say he had a girlfriend out loud, not broadcast her name for the microphones to pick up too, but they’d found her profile anyway – by stalking his, essentially. She thought things would die down, especially because her profile had always been private, and though she did get some intense DMs like Grace knew she would, there wasn’t a bombardment and she’d just deleted them all without looking at them. Now that her name was published in a newspaper, she had an entirely new problem on her hands.

She noticed Dev and Francesca were still waiting for an answer. “I…yeah, I’m dating him,” she said meekly, not wanting to say too much.

“How did you even meet him?” Francesca asked. “I mean, no offence, but you don’t exactly come out with us a lot.”

“He’s my childhood best friend,” she said, immediately putting an end to the notion that she’d met him at some bar. “I…I grew up with him. We’ve been best friends since we were three and he essentially followed me to Vancouver because I came here first. He’s the person I live with and—”

“Wait – you live with him?!” Dev was shocked at her revelation. Svea was always pretty secretive of why she never moved into a place near campus after first year, and always eluded questions as to how she was able to afford a pricey apartment in Yaletown. Now he knew. “You live with him and that’s why you live in Yaletown?”

“Yeah. We…” she stopped herself, not wanting to reveal too much. “It’s…I’m dating him, okay?”

“Svea, this is huge,” Francesca’s tone was a mix of serious and excited.

Francesca said it as if Svea didn’t know how much of a big deal it was that she was dating the biggest star on the Vancouver Canucks. Svea knew how much of a big deal it was. Clearly. If people from newspapers were stalking Elias’s profile to see who she was, it was a big deal. It was just that, Elias, as a person, wasn’t a big deal to her. He was her best friend. He wasn’t the star first line centre. “Yeah, I know.”

“Massive,” Dev commented too. “Well I’m happy for you if you’re happy, Svea.”

“Secure that bag, girl,” Francesca quipped.

Before Svea’s jaw dropped, and before her brain could function to say anything to Francesca, their professor walked into the room and greeted the class loudly, thus ending their conversation. He almost immediately started lecturing.

Svea began typing, and Francesca was scrambling to get everything out of her bag.

>< >< >< >< ><

“It’s ready, pretty girl,” Elias called from the kitchen as he finished stirring the pasta in its sauce. He looked over at Svea sitting at the dining room table, head in a giant textbook that looked menacing to him. She looked so concentrated and focused on what she was reading, but when she heard his voice, she looked up momentarily. She let out a loud sigh.

Elias remembered back to the summer, back in Sweden, when they went to Emma Gardner’s dinner party and he was intimidated by Soren’s supposed ‘smarts’ and how emotional he got by it all the next morning. When they came back to Vancouver and Svea began her last year of university, he wanted to change things. As much as they resolved the issue right then and there, he knew he needed to do more – and he was willing to do more. He was making a big effort to be in the know – not exactly to understand everything she was studying, but to at least know what it was. Now that he was with Svea, he wasn’t the most important person in his life anymore – it was her. He needed her to know that. He made sure to show it to her every day, through his actions, his words, and his priorities when he was away from hockey.

When he brought the plates over, he wouldn’t set hers down in front of her until she kissed him. The textbook was cleared by then, off to the side where she didn’t have to look at it while she ate with him. When they came back to Vancouver and she began her last year of university, she wanted to change things. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t be distracted by school work during meals, especially meals with Elias. She could tell Elias was making a huge effort to know more about her studies, and she wanted to reciprocate. There was no way she wouldn’t put in the same effort he was into the relationship. Now that she was with Elias, she wasn’t the most important person in her life anymore – it was him. She needed him to know that. She made sure to show it to him every day, through her actions, her words, and her priorities when she wasn’t engaging with school.

“Everything okay?” he asked as he settled into his seat across from her after their kiss.

She nodded her head. “Just reading about the Cuban Revolution.”

“Is it interesting?” he asked.

“Interesting enough,” she shrugged. She began digging into her pasta in vodka sauce. Now that Elias had finally mastered the art of cooking some pasta, and didn’t over or undercook it every time, she could enjoy him making dinner at least once or twice a week now. Though the first time he cooked ravioli was an absolute fucking shit show (there was spinach and ricotta floating everywhere in the pot because he left them in too long and they all burst open), he’d gotten the hang of penne, spaghetti, and fettucine. “How was the gym with Brock?”

“Same old,” he answered, eating his pasta. “Grace told him how much you were screaming at the game the other night.”

Svea snorted. She’s almost embarrassed herself by how much she was screaming and swearing. She didn’t know what came over her. “It was pretty bad. I’m surprised she left with me, to be honest. She wasn’t even that loud, and you know how she gets.”

“I can’t believe it took Vancouver to get you to scream at my games,” Elias quipped.

Svea laughed, but the comment panged her a little bit. Growing up in Sweden, she was always at his games, but her head was, as Brigitte so lovingly put it, ‘always in a book instead of in his lap’. It wasn’t that she didn’t care – because she did, she knew how much hockey meant to Elias – it was just that she had different interests. But she was always there; she always supported him. Suddenly, she wondered if that was enough. “Did…did that make you mad?” she asked softly.

“Did what make me mad?”

“Me being quiet at your games growing up. Me having a book in the stands and reading in between periods,” she said. He knew because the girls told him as a means of gossip. “Like, did you hate it?”

“Of course not,” he furrowed his brows. “Why would I hate that?”

“I don’t know…”

“Svea, I hate nothing about you,” Elias said. “Not even the fact that you’ve started to talk in your sleep sometimes.”

“I do not.”

“Yes you do.”

“Then what do I say?”

“Oooooh, Elias, right there.”

She kicked him underneath the table, but he was ready for it, grabbing her foot with his free hand. “You’re an ass,” she sneered.

“So you don’t have wet dreams about me?”

“You wish,” she stuck her tongue out like a child, causing him to smile and laugh.

“For what it’s worth,” he began, trailing his hand up her leg, “I didn’t care about any of that. You reading at games or whatever. You’re your own person, Svea. I don’t care what anybody said. The fact that you were there was enough for me – like, the fact that I could see you in the stands with my family or whatever. When you made it back to Vaxjo after flying in from Vancouver, and you watched me score that game winning goal and then surprised me on the ice – Svea, that was, like, one of the greatest moments of my life. And it wasn’t because I’d just won the championship. It was because you were there for it.”

Svea smiled. Elias knew to say all the right things, but what was better than just saying them was knowing that he meant them, fully and completely. “I love you, Elias.”

“I love you too, Svea. More than anything,”

There was a comfortable silence between them as they ate dinner, Svea’s foot still propped up in Elias’s lap after she’d tried to kick him. “Are you going to be able to come to the game on Saturday?” he asked once they were almost finished.

She nodded. “I’ll finish this reading tonight easily and I’ll be back yelling in no time.”

“Good,” he smiled. “I like it when you’re loud.”

She kicked him again.

***

“Brock reminded me that Grace is setting the date soon for the next Parkinson’s gala,” Elias said later that night, after dinner and after clean up and Svea finished her reading and after they cuddled on the couch and after they watched a few episodes of Jeopardy at Svea’s request like an old married couple. They’d gotten themselves ready for bed and Svea watched as Elias fluffed up their pillows while she pulled the covers back.

“That’ll be fun,” Svea said. “Every time we’ve gone it’s been a blast. I can’t wait.”

“And we have Dice and Ice again this year too. I wonder if they’ll make me play Family Feud again,” he mused as they both got into bed.

Svea giggled. “Maybe this time you can announce to six hundred people that you finally have a girlfriend – oh wait, you already did that a few weeks ag—HEY!”

Elias pulled her into his body in one quick tug and wrapped his arms around her, peppering her face with kisses as she began to laugh at the sensation. He flipped her around so she was beneath him. “Yeah yeah, I’ve got a big mouth, I know,” he mumbled against the skin of her neck as he bit down on it gently.

“Mmm,” Svea hummed, enjoying the feeling like she always did. “How about you remind me what else you can do with that mouth.”

A low chuckle erupted from deep within Elias. “With pleasure,” he smiled devilishly. Almost immediately, he shoved her old t-shirt (technically, his old t-shirt) up and over her head and moved down her body. He hooked his fingers into the hem of her shorts and pulled them off too, watching as he saw a smirk appear on her face. “What’s got you smiling, pretty girl?”

“You,” she purred. “I’ll always regret waiting so long to be with you. We could have had so much more time together.”

Elias brought himself back up, placing a tender kiss on her lips. “Don’t regret that. We have the rest of our lives together, pretty girl. We always did.”

Svea smiled, pulling him down by the neck to kiss him again. The universe knew that them being together was always endgame; it just took them longer to realize. She liked Elias’s optimism – not focusing on what was in the past, but instead focusing on the future. “Elias…” she mumbled in between kisses.

“Hmm?”

“Show me I’m yours,” she whispered. She knew it would set him off completely, just like it did the first time, just like it did subsequent times since. “Show me I’m yours, Elias.”

He audibly groaned, slipping his way back down her body before forcing her legs apart and lowering his face between them, lapping and sucking so expertly that Svea was squirming within no time. Her pants and callouts of his name only fueled him as time went on, and when she ran her fingers through his blonde hair and tugged on it, he let out his own groan.

“Fuuuuuck,” she breathed out, tugging on his hair even more. “You’re so…your tongue is so good Elias.” He moaned at the sound of her voice, the vibrations causing her to squirm even more. He brought his arm around her thigh and held her hips down. It made her huff out in slight frustration. “Elias.”

His only response was to push down harder. Her response was to pull his hair as tight as she could and squeeze his head between her thighs. All the while, he kept up his movements, looking up at her with his striking, beady blue eyes. “You taste so sweet, pretty girl,” he mumbled against her wet lips. “So sweet for me.”

“Elias—”

“Are you gonna cum on my face, pretty girl?”

Svea nodded her head fervently. “I’m so close.”

“Mmmmm,” he hummed, the vibrations yet again making her squirm. “Cum for me, Svea.”

Svea arched her back, and after a few short moments, she was screaming out his name, squeezing his head in between her thighs even tighter than before. Elias kept lapping until she calmed down, sucking up the last of her juices before looking up at her again. “I could taste you all day, pretty girl,” he mumbled against her lips, the last thing he did before moving up her body and placing open-mouthed kisses and dragging his lips along her stomach and up to her breasts.

“I need you inside of me right now,” she said, her breath hot and frantic as she moved to wrap her legs around him.

“So impatient,” Elias mused.

“Fuck me, Elias. I can’t wait anymore.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. When she felt him enter her, quickly and in one swift movement, she dug her nails into the skin on his shoulder blades and almost immediately rocked her hips against his, trying to get him even deeper. “Svea…” he groaned out, feeling how deep he was inside of her. “Svea…fuck, you’re desperate, aren’t you?”

She nodded. She couldn’t help it. She was desperate. She was always desperate for him. Desperate for his voice, his touch, the sound of him, his smile, his laugh, how he filled her up, how he felt above her and beneath her – everything about him. “You like it when I’m loud, right?” she asked.

Elias’s eyes bulged for a moment. “Y—Yes.”

“You want me to be loud?”

His pupils dilated. “Yes.”

“Let me ride you.”

Svea wrapped her arms around Elias so he would stay inside her before he turned onto his back. She quickly got comfortable, adjusting slightly, and Elias brought his hands up and their hands intertwined, letting her lean against his elbows so she had something to brace against. When she began to rock back and forth slowly, he let out a groan. “You feel incredible, baby,” Svea said as she quickened her pace slightly.

“You do, too,” Elias said quickly. She began to moan loudly, like she knew he wanted and liked, and she could see his eyes practically roll to the back of his head. Elias liked knowing that it was him who made her feel this way. As she continued her noises, he didn’t know where to focus – her hips, her breasts, her eyes, how his cock had disappeared inside her – but he knew that everything felt good. He was left speechless by everything.

She led his hands to cup her breasts, but he had other ideas. Instead, he used his arms to push himself up so he could kiss them instead, his hands on her back. He remembered back to their little rendezvous at the lake during Midsommar, what she’d done and the quiet confidence in which she’d done it. He had obviously never done anything like that before. “When we get married these are going to be all mine,” he mumbled against her breasts, licking at the space on her chest where he remembered his cum covering her.

“They already are,” Svea mumbled, lost in the feeling. She brought her hands up to run through his hair so she could tug on it and so he could look her in the eye. When he was, she said what she wanted to say – what she knew he wanted to hear. “I’m all yours.”

Elias smiled. “I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” Svea repeated.

They kissed, wet and sloppy, and Svea could feel herself getting close again. She dug her nails into the skin at the nape of Elias’s neck. When he felt her walls tighten around him, and heard her cries of pleasure at the feeling, he came completely undone as well. They clung on to each other, riding out their highs for a long as they could until they finally settled down, their breathing laboured and shaky, their chests heaving less and less as the time went by. Neither let go of each other. There was no need to.

Elias slipped out of her slowly, and Svea whimpered at the loss of feeling him fill her. He wrapped his arms around her as he fell back slowly, laying them on the bed. They stayed close, wrapped in each other, giving each other quick, soft kisses. “I love you,” Elias mumbled, his voice tired.

Svea smiled slightly. “I love you too.”

>< >< >< >< ><

An advertising executive must schedule the advertising during a particular television show. Seven different consecutive time slots are available for advertisements during a commercial break, and are numbered one through seven in the order that they will be aired. Seven different advertisements – B, C, D, F, H, J, and K – must be aired during the show. Only one advertisement can occupy each time slot. The assignment of the advertisements to the slots is subject to the following restrictions: • B and D must occupy consecutive time slots. • B must be aired during an earlier time slot than K. • D must be aired during a later time slot than H. • If H does not occupy the fourth time slot, then F must occupy the fourth time slot. • K and J cannot occupy consecutively numbered time slots.

Svea read over the logic puzzle three times, breathing harder every time. She wrote the requisite lines and letters. She moved on to the first questions.

1. Which of the following could be a possible list of the advertisements in the order that they are aired? a. BDFHJCK b. CJBHDKF c. HBDFJCK d. HDBFKJC e. HJDBFKC

Svea tried not to panic as she tried to work out the first question based on the parameters presented to her. When she took at her answer, then at the options, none of them matched. She tried again. No match again. She tried not to panic irrationally, but when she tried a third time, she still couldn’t get the right answer. She felt her cheeks heat up and her eyes start to well. No. No. There’s no crying in doing logic puzzles. She moved on to the next question, seeing if she could at least solve that one, but she couldn’t. Okay, back to question one. She tried a combination one more time and finally, finally found a match, so she circled the option.

She checked her time. Six minutes had passed, and she had five more questions to answer based on this logic puzzle alone. On the LSAT, they got about eight minutes per entire puzzle and four puzzles, for a total of around 35 minutes for this section. So she was severely behind. Like, severely. She looked at the note in the margins of her book.

This is generally considered one of the easier questions.

Svea whimpered. Audibly. She felt a few tears falling down her cheeks as she tried to move on to the second question, realizing it was now predicated upon the answer from the first. Seven minutes. And based on the wording of the question, her answer for the first one was wrong. It wasn’t even possible.

She let out a sob.

Eight minutes. She’d officially already failed this section of the LSAT.

As she tried to wipe her tears away with the backs of her hands, she heard the lightest knock on the door. As she looked over, she saw Elias’s head peek through the doorway, a bowl in his hands. “I brought you some raspberries,” he said softly, closing the door behind him. “How’s it going?”

Svea shook her head and started to cry again. “Elias…”

“Heeeyyyyy hey hey,” Elias cooed, rushing over to her and putting the bowl on the desk. He pushed out her chair, moving it so she was facing him, and knelt down in front of her. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Elias, will you still love me if I fail?”

“Svea—”

“Be honest,” she interrupted. “Will you still love me if I fail the LSAT and don’t get into law school and don’t get into grad school and just become a bum? Will you?”

“Svea, don’t say stuff like that,” he said, running his hands up and down her thighs trying to sooth her.

Svea shook her head fervently. “I’m dumb. I’m so dumb,” she whimpered out.

“You know you’re not dumb, Svea—”

“But I am!” she exclaimed. “I couldn’t even do this logic puzzle in time. I had eight minutes and I couldn’t do it. And it’s one of the easier ones! Imagine me sitting in that room trying to write the LSAT and I can’t even get past the logic puzzles!”

“Shhhhh,” he cooed, bringing his hands up to cup her face. He began wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, still kneeling in front of her. “Svea, you know that I love you more than anything. I’ll love you no matter what.”

“Even if I fail?”

“You won’t fail. But even if you fail, yes, I will still love you,” he nodded, knowing it was what she needed to hear right now. She wouldn’t have dropped it if he didn’t say those words.

“And here you are, bringing me raspberries like a good boyfriend and I can’t even get a log—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Elias warned. “Svea, it’s fine. You’re probably just very tired. You had a day full of classes, then homework, now this. I bet when you have a fresh and well-rested brain tomorrow, it will be much easier for you.”

Svea whimpered again, wrapping her arms around Elias and squeezing him against her chest. He was such a good boyfriend, always bringing her snacks or water or tea without her even having to ask, and she was just being a blubbering mess. She’d missed some of his games lately due to her studying and she felt horrible about it, and it all led to this: he was the one still comforting her about the long-term goal of why she was even studying in the first place.

“And Svea?”

“Hmmm?”

“You know I’ll always love you. You know that you’re going to be successful. This is just a little bump, that’s all.”

She took a moment to consider his words. She knew he was right, but it took her a while to digest. She hated that it did – that it took her so long – but her mind was off right now, overtired and overworked from a full day. “Maybe I should go to bed,” she mumbled as her head rested in the crook of Elias’s neck.

Elias didn’t even have to say anything. All he did was move to pick her up, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and her legs wrapping around his torso, and he carried her across the apartment to his bedroom, now their bedroom, with her face still tucked. He could feel her tears on his skin, and when he lay her down gently on the bed, he made sure to wipe the rest of them away before he began undressing her, helping tug her shirt off and pulling off her jeans, leaving her in just her underwear. He did the same quickly, stripping down to his boxers before climbing into bed and pulling the covers over them.

They gravitated towards each other in bed like they always did, Elias wrapping an arm around her and Svea tangling their legs together. He began running his fingers gently through her hair and could hear her sigh, like she was letting out all her frustrations, all her nerves, and all her stress. “I love you, pretty girl,” he said softly as he continued his motions, knowing that it would soothe her, calm her down, just like it did for him when she did so. It was one of the best feelings in the world, when he thought about it.

“I love you too, even when I’m in my own head too much,” she responded, her voice soft and almost a whisper, but there was enough there. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

>< >< >< >< ><

Back in her global uprisings course, Svea took a moment to stretch as the professor gave them a five minute bathroom and coffee break. She debated on whether or not to go down to the main floor and get a coffee and croissant, or just stick it out until lunch time. She made sure to save her notes before she closed her laptop.

She’d finally gotten the hang of the logic puzzles and was doing them like crazy now. She’d seen advertisements on the bulletin board on the main floor for LSAT prep classes, and she wondered if she should take another round of them, even though she’d taken them last year as well. But then she had the fact that she needed to finish her application for her Master’s. There were a few more things to do on the supplemental application and some other things she needed to perfect before submitting it. She’d need someone to look it over. She needed to make sure the professors she’d asked to be references actually wrote their letters. She needed to—

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Francesca asked suddenly, snapping Svea from her thoughts.

“I’m thinking about the LSAT,” Svea decided to be honest with her. “The LSAT and my application to grad school.”

“The LSAT? Grad school?” Francesca asked like it was the most absurd thing that Svea was continuing her education and applying to these programs. “What’s the point, Svea?”

Svea furrowed her brows. “What do you mean what’s the point? I want to work in law and politics. You know that.”

“I mean, what’s the point when you’re with Elias now?”

Svea’s body stiffened at Francesca’s words. “What do you mean? I have to make a living, Francesca.”

“Do you? Do you really? Isn’t Elias gonna be signing, like, a huge contract at the end of this year? Do you honestly think you’re going to need to work to support yourself for the rest of your life when he’s going to be making, like, ten million dollars a year? Minus endorsements? I mean doesn’t he already support you?”

Svea was taken aback by Francesca’s line of questioning, and, to be honest, deeply hurt by it as well. Did Svea give off the airs and graces that she was fine with being a kept woman? Had she ever made it seem like she didn’t want to do anything with her life? That she didn’t care? She didn’t think she did ever. But for some reason, Francesca was bringing it up. “Francesca, I can’t let my boyfriend support me for the rest of my life.”

“You can’t? Because I can,” she quipped. She said it in a joking manner but Svea knew she was completely serious. The next line of questioning confirmed it for her. “I mean, does Elias have any teammates? Brock Boeser maybe? Or is he still with that Gillespie girl? The billionaire?”

Svea furrowed her brows. She didn’t like the direction this conversation was going, and she didn’t want Francesca anywhere near Brock or Grace. “They’re still together. He’s madly in love with her,” she mumbled before turning away from her and back to her laptop.

“Damn. Should’ve told me you were dating Elias earlier so I could’ve jumped at the chance.”

“Hmm,” Svea hummed, just to acknowledge what she said. She began typing something so Francesca would leave her alone.

When class was finished, Svea took out her phone and immediately texted Elias.

I’m going to be the most horrible housewife on the planet

Svea wtf are you talking about

Francesca said today I didn’t have to apply to law school or grad school because now I have you to take care of me It was the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever heard

Not even thirty seconds later, her phone began to ring. When she picked it up, Elias didn’t even greet with any formalities. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, too,” he said. “I mean, who says something like that?”

“Someone who wishes she was kept, I guess. I mean, she asked about Brock afterwards and I had to break her heart and tell her that he’s still madly in love with Grace.”

“What do you mean kept?”

“It’s a saying. It’s like a girl who has a nice and lavish lifestyle because of a rich man,” she explained.

Elias was silent on the other end trying to understand what Svea was explaining to him. “Did she just call you a prostitute? Or one of those sugarbaby things or whatever?”

Svea snorted. “In her own way, probably. I mean, when you think about it…” Svea tried to joke, seeing the humour in the situation, finally. Elias did pay for most things and Svea did enjoy a nice, comfortable life because of it – an apartment in Yaletown, access to a luxury car, an $8000 gold bracelet screwed onto her wrist…

But that didn’t mean she was kept. They were equal partners in their relationship. There was no power dynamic. Elias didn’t do those things and provide her with what he did because he wanted to control her, or because he wanted to have sex with her, or because he wanted to keep her at home all the time doing nothing besides looking pretty and being ready in bed for him. He did it because he genuinely loved her, because she was his best friend, his soulmate, his sun and his moon and his stars, and because he could, because what the hell else was he going to do with all this money? Spend it on himself? He already did that and there was a ton left over. Who better to spend it on than Svea?

“What is it with everyone trying to get into our business? We’re happy this way. It works for us. What the fuck does it matter?” Elias asked. “And why is everybody so obsessed with money?”

“It makes the world turn, Elias.”

She heard him huff on the other end. “Just…don’t worry about what she says. It doesn’t matter. You’re going to law school or grad school or you’re doing what you want to do and that’s that.”

“Why did I have to love debating in high school? Why did I have to like law and politics? Why couldn’t I have loved to bake and like…I don’t know, opened up some hipster coffee shop here or in Stockholm and just made coffee and cake and cookies all day?”

“Because then you wouldn’t have been Svea,” Elias said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You would have been someone else. And I don’t know who that someone else is, but it’s not you.”

And he was right. He was so fucking right that Svea was taken aback by the simplicity of his words but just how deep they were; how they hit the nail right on the head and how they were just so…right. She wouldn’t be the same person if she never debated, if she was never a precarious kid checking out books at the library. She wouldn’t be the same person if she had baked cakes and cookies and opened some hipster coffee shop with vegan treats made exclusively from organic ingredients. She wouldn’t be the same Svea. She wouldn’t be the Svea Elias loved. She wouldn’t be the Svea her friends loved. She wouldn’t be the Svea her family loved, that Elias’s family loved. She almost teared up for how right he was. “Thank you, Elias,” she said softly, not knowing what else to say.

“For what?”

“For loving me the way I am.”

She could practically hear him smile bashfully on the other end. “I love you for the way you’ve always been, too. And the way you’ll be.”

She knew he would. That was the best part.

>< >< >< >< ><

Svea clicked send.

Your application to the University of British Columbia’s Master of Public Policy and Global Affairs has been received. You will receive a confirmation email with your application number shortly.

She took a deep breath. Now she waited.

***

Svea clicked send.

Your application to the Peter A. Allard School of Law at the University of British Columbia has been received. You will receive an email shortly confirming your application.

She took a deep breath. Now she waited.

>< >< >< >< ><

“It would be chic to wear black, right?” Svea asked Grace as they scoured through the racks of dresses at Holt Renfrew, the iconic upscale Canadian department store, looking for something to wear to the upcoming Dice & Ice fundraiser the Canucks held annually. Grace loved to shop, and she was good at it, so Svea was confident they’d find something to wear.

“Well, it’s always chic to wear black,” Grace said as she pulled out a beige coloured, skin-tight dress. She took a good, long look at it before deciding it wasn’t the one and pushing it back in. “But you need to spruce it up a bit.”

“Spruce it up?”

“You’ve got a great body and you need to show it off. You’ve been wearing your knit sweaters for so long that I’ve forgotten what your boobs look like, Svea.”

She snorted. Leave it to Grace, the professional dancer with the near perfect body, to mention her boobs. “Grace, I barely have boobs.”

“Doesn’t matter. You can still show off your figure. It’s to die for. And I’m sure Petey would love it.”

Well, that was true. Svea kept that in her mind as they continued to look through racks and racks of dresses, never quite finding the right one, though they pulled some to try on just in case. Grace always had something to say about the dresses Svea pulled – “You’re going to look like my uncle’s fourth ex-wife if you wear that” or “That looks like something a retired art teacher would wear”. Svea couldn’t help but laugh. She was thankful to have Grace along for this ride since Grace had a sense of style and what would look good on her body; if she wasn’t here, Svea wouldn’t probably end up picking a dress that made her look like a 17th century peasant woman from Croatia ready to milk the cows. As Grace would say.

They verged into the designer departments. Grace picked out a dress from Dolce and Gabbana, and handed one from Gucci to Svea. They checked in Yves Saint Laurent and Versace but there was nothing. Chloe. Louis Vuitton. Celine. Miu Miu.

“What about this one?” Svea asked, pulling out a gorgeous dress from the Miu Miu rack.

From down the line, Grace looked up. “It’s black.” Svea took it off the bar completely, holding it against her body, showing its crystal-studded top. “Ooooooooh,” Grace’s jaw dropped at the detailing. She immediately let go of the dress she’d pulled out and walked over to Svea. “Now that’s a good one.”

“You think?”

“Mhm,” she nodded her head fervently. “Let’s go try these all on now. I need to see that dress on you.”

The first few dresses Svea tried on and modeled for Grace didn’t “work”, according to her. There was something off about them – a hemline, a cut, the fact that it made Svea look like a nun – that sent them back on the hanger. But when Svea put on the Miu Miu dress she pulled, even just seeing herself in the dressing room with it half on, she knew it would look good. “Um…I think I’m going to need to take off my bra for this one,” she called out to Grace is the dressing room beside her.

“Then take it off.”

“There’s gonna be a lot of side-boob. I’m not sure that’s appropriate for a gala raising money for children…”

“Nothing a little double-sided boob tape can’t fix,” Grace retorted. “Now get out here so I can see.”

Svea pulled back the curtain. When she did, Grace’s jaw dropped. Grace was standing in a beautiful dress of her own, but she didn’t even care – her full attention was on Svea now, and the dress she was wearing. “Oh…my…God,” she gave Svea a complete up-down, a giant smile forming on her face afterwards. “This is perfect. This is it.”

“But what about this?” Svea moved to show Grace her side profile.

“Like I said, boob tape. But we’ll bring it to a tailor as well. We want this thing pinched in and showing off that body.” Grace approached her, moving them so that they stood in front of a mirror together with Grace behind her. Svea could feel her hands on the low backline of the dress. Grace tugged on it. “See?” she said, getting Svea to look in the mirror. Even just the simple pinch covered up some of the side boob – enough that Svea felt more comfortable and more appropriate. “Now imagine what my tailor can do. This thing will fit you like a glove when he’s done with it.”

Svea nodded her head. She did look good. And she had a feeling Elias would like the open back and the fact it would be tight. Elias liked her in anything but her dressing up did something to him. He would treat her as a present he needed to unwrap. “Is there any point in trying on anything else?” she smiled.

Grace smiled back. “No way.”

***

“D’you ever think about marriage?” Grace asked suddenly as she and Svea ate lunch at Coast, raw oysters in between them arranged perfectly on a platter.

Svea was taken aback by the question, which was posed out of the blue. She thought anybody would be, all things considered. “Uh…sometimes. Why?”

“I just think of you and Elias a lot. And Brock and I, obviously, but more so you and Elias. Because, like, we both know you guys are going to get married one day. I mean, so will Brock and I…but…I don’t know. Do you ever just think of what marriage will be like?”

Svea knew what Grace was trying to get at. In her own roundabout way, she was expressing a deep-rooted fear. Not of marriage in and of itself – the act of it, of getting a legal document and signing it and being attached to a person through marriage – but the dynamics of it instead. How to make it work. Communication. Trust. Traveling. Schedules. Children. Her parents notoriously didn’t speak to each other after their horrible divorce and used her and their lawyers as pawns. She got along well with her step-brothers and all was well and fine now, as an adult, but divorce traumatizes kids. “I do.”

“What do you think your marriage with Elias will be like?”

“Comfortable,” Svea said without any thought. She felt the need to clarify. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just mean that like…I think it will be easy. Easier. We’ve known each other our whole lives and our relationship is already strong. I don’t think that signing a document and becoming husband and wife will drastically change anything in our relationship.”

“Because it’s bound to happen,” Grace said.

“Exactly,” Svea nodded her head. “Like I know it will change, but not by much. And Elias and I talk about what we want and what we want to do, and we sort of just, like…already know. So it’s not going be this, like, seismic shift. He’ll still be Elias. He’ll just be my husband, Elias.”

Grace nodded her head. She thought long and hard about what Svea was saying. She envied Svea, somewhat, because she also had good role models in her parents to base a marriage off of. Grace didn’t really have that luxury – though she had her mom and her step-dad now, but that was different. Because after everything that happened in the divorce, Grace couldn’t look at marriage the same way. “Do you ever look to your parents and what they went through?”

“Somewhat. I mean my mom uprooted her whole life for my dad. She moved to a foreign country and learned the language and brought up two daughters in a small town…I don’t think they would have lasted if she didn’t know my dad loved her unconditionally like Elias loves me now,” Svea explained. “I mean they obviously weren’t perfect but they provide a great example. Same with Elias’s parents. I think they provided a good example for him.”

“When I think about my mom and dad, and what happened with them, it doesn’t make me scared about Brock and I, because I know we’re different,” Grace began. “But what gets me scared is, like, the possibility. Like there’s always a possibility we could end up like them.”

Svea shook her head. “You can’t wage your happiness on a possibility, Grace,” she said sternly. “If we go by that logic, of possibilities, that means there’s a possibility that Elias would cheat on me and break us up.”

“That would never happen. Elias would never do that to you.”

“Exactly,” Svea said. “You and Brock are nothing like your parents. So let me ask you the same question. What do you think your marriage with Brock will be like?”

Unlike Svea, who answered with one word in a heartbeat, Grace thought about it for a while. It wasn’t because she wasn’t confident in their relationship – she was – and it wasn’t because she couldn’t see herself married to Brock – she could – but it was more so because what she had with Brock was indescribable. It had all happened pretty quickly, but everything about it felt right, and felt like it was supposed to happen. Marriage would feel the same way. Having kids would feel the same way. “Comfortable,” Grace repeated Svea’s word. “Because he gives me a sense of comfort than no-one else has. He makes me feel safe and happy all the time. And because we want the same things. We always have.”

Svea smiled. “See? Comfort isn’t a bad thing. Not everything has to be a rollercoaster.”

Grace nodded. She knew Svea was right. She just wished she didn’t have such bad examples to base a marriage on. Svea was wise and knew these things because she had good examples. “Has Elias ever brought up marriage?”

Svea smirked slightly, grabbing her water to take a sip so she could avoid the question. Grace wiggled in her seat excitedly, knowing the answer based on her response. “In passing, mostly. We were in bed once, too.”

“Oh God, did he propose once when you two were having sex?”

Svea snorted. “No, thank God. Nothing awkward like that. It was more so, like…” she trailed off, wondering if she should even say anything. She told Grace pretty much everything these days. “When we get married, so and so…” she mimicked Elias’s voice.

“Ah, I get it,” Grace nodded. “I once gave Brock a blowjob so good he called me his wife afterwards.”

Svea burst out laughing, which caused Grace to laugh as well. Both of the girls had to wipe away tears and take a drink of water before they could resume talking. “Brock would totally do something like that,” Svea commented.

“I know. He’s so predictable,” Grace rolled her eyes playfully. “Is it weird these things happen with our boyfriends during sex? I swear they only share one brain cell.”

“They definitely do, but we love them for it.”

>< >< ><

“Do you want to marry me?”

If Svea was a dog, her ears would have perked up like someone was opening the treat bag. She and Elias had finished dinner and had been cuddling on the couch when Svea thought they needed a snack and went to go microwave a bag of popcorn. The question didn’t make her nervous because she knew the answer. If anything, she wondered what exactly it would lead to. “Of course I do.”

“Now or eventually?” he asked again.

“Eventually,” she answered.

“Why not now?”

Svea poured the popcorn into the bowl. “Because I don’t know what I’m going with my life yet, and I think it’s important to establish that before I get married.”

“So if you establish it, we would be able to get married?” he asked, using her logic.

“Eliiiiaaaaas…” she elongated his name, taking the bowl and bringing it back to the couch. He sounded like a four year old with all of his questions. “What’s this about?”

“I’m just wondering when we can get married,” he said like it was so simple.

“Why are you wondering that?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Elias, we’re only twenty-two,” Svea said. She wanted to turn the tables. “And besides, do you want to marry me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my soulmate,” he said automatically. “Because I love you more than anything. And we waited long enough to get together, so why wait to get married?”

“Elias…” she whispered. Instead of sitting down by his side like she had been, she straddled his lap. It brought them much closer, of course, and Svea could look at him face-to-face. She brought her hands up to cradle his face. “Listen to me. I love you. I want to marry you. There’s no doubt in my mind about that, okay? None whatsoever. But there are a lot of things happening this year between me and my future and you and your contract,” she said. “I feel…I feel like once all of that is…I don’t know, settled, then we can start seriously think about getting married. And I can’t do that when everything is up in the air with me.”

Elias moved into her touch, eventually nodding his head. He looked so cute and his lips were so pouty, Svea felt like kissing him right then. But she knew she couldn’t until they finished their very serious conversation. “I just don’t want to wait. I’ve already waited too long for you, you know?” he asked.

“I know. But I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better not be,” he mumbled, leaning forward to rest his head against her chest. She moved her hands so one was still cradling his face while she ran her fingers through his hair with the other. “I hope you don’t think I’m pressuring you or anything.”

“You’re not.”

“I just really want to marry you. I really want you to be my wife. I know it’s probably stupid of me but I don’t care how young we are. I would’ve married you at eighteen.”

Svea smiled. “If we hadn’t denied our feelings for each other we probably would have been dumb and done it,” she laughed. “But you’ve gotta get me a ring first.”

“Oh, that’s no problem. I’ll make sure the ring is bigger than your eyeball.”

“And you still gotta kneel. I want the whole kit and kaboodle. I don’t care that I know it’s happening. You still have to kneel and ask me.”

She felt Elias smile against her, giggling slightly. “I plan on it. I meant it when I said that time in Stockholm wasn’t the last time I would kneel in front of you.”

“Good,” Svea smiled.

“But we can still get a pet, right?”

Svea snorted. She was very, very, very well aware of how much he wanted a pet. With Diesel, Whiskey, and Tequila far away in Sweden with Fanny and Emil, he had limited access to animals. And after spending practically the entire summer with them, he was desperate for some animal contact. Grace bringing Pippa around was always nice, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t cuddle with Pippa whenever he wanted. Pippa wasn’t at his home. “Elias.”

“What if I brought home an iguana one day?”

“No,” she said loudly, pulling away from him so his head wasn’t on her chest anymore. He had a cheeky smile on his face. “I told you to stop sending me reptiles to adopt.”

“But what if—”

“If you bring home an iguana or a reptile or God forbid a snake, you’re not allowed to marry me anymore.”

“Whooooooaaaaaa whoa whoa hey hey hey, let’s not get crazy here,” he held up his hands. “Okay, I’ll stop sending the reptiles. But that means I can send you more dogs.”

“Okay, deal,” she smiled, finally getting her opportunity to kiss him. “You’re lucky I’m already crazy for you, because you’re gonna drive me crazy.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed happily, snaking his hands up her shirt. “I’m crazy for you too. And I can think of a few crazy things we can get up to right now.”

>< >< >< >< ><

“Elias—”

“—Svea—”

“—Elias we’re already late—”

“—Pull up your dress—"

“—Eli—oh, oh Jesus,” Svea felt herself getting pushed against their bedroom’s glass window. Elias was behind her pulling her dress up and bunching it around her hips. She could hear the buckle of his belt clink as he rushed to get it unbuckled. “Elias—”

“Bend over.”

She let out a hot sigh as she did what she was told, trying to grip onto the glass as she bent over slightly, her ass sticking out and grinding on Elias’s already hard member. She could feel his hand on her ass, slipping her lace panties to the side. She’d bought them specifically for tonight. No set, because she wasn’t wearing a bra (only boob tape, as per Grace and her tailor). She’d planned on surprising Elias after the gala but he apparently had other plans. She felt his fingers play with her folds, letting out a mewl at his teasing to get her wet, eventually slipping two fingers inside of her, causing her to cry out. “That feels good, Elias,” she whispered, looking back at him.

“You like that?” he asked, to which she nodded her head. “You think looking that sexy in this dress wasn’t gonna make me do this?”

She smiled slightly. “I knew it would. Just thought you’d be able to wait,” she smiled devilishly.

“Nuh uh,” Elias shook his head, curling his fingers and making her visibly shiver. “No waiting. Can’t wait.”

“Then fuck me already.”

Elias entered her with such force that they crashed together against the glass. Svea let out a loud moan as he filled her up, feeling his hot breath right behind her ear as her own hot breath fogged up the glass in front of her mouth. She absolutely loved the feeling of him filling her up – always had, always would – but this was different. This was hot and fast and raw and rough, and she liked it, God did she like it. “Fill me up, Elias,” she breathed out. “Fill me up and fuck me.”

He crashed into her hips again, and she sent out another shout. His body pressed up against hers gave her little room to move but she liked it. Another crash. Another shout. Another crash. Another shout. On and on and on, the more shouts and moans escaped her body without her having any control over them. On and on and on, she got louder with each passing one. He could see her knuckles turning white from trying to grip the glass unsuccessfully. “You like being fucked like this?” he mumbled into her ear.

“Yeeesssssssss,” she nodded.

“How much?”

“So much,” she breathed out. “I love it when you fuck me hard, Elias. I love it. It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.”

It wasn’t meant to last long – rendezvouses like this never did – and so with a bite of the neck and an arch of the back and a slip of Elias’s hand around to her core, rubbing and teasing, Svea came undone, coming loudly and shaking as she tried to keep her balance. She could feel his breaths shorten, and soon after, he came inside of her, hot and wet and causing her own orgasm to last longer. As they tried to catch their breaths, Svea could feel Elias’s lips on the open skin of her back, placing soft, tender, loving kisses along it as they came down from their highs.

Elias’s lips moved from her spine to her shoulder blades and along her neck. “I love you,” he whispered softly, placing a quick kiss on her jawline.

The fact that he was still inside her made it that much more tender to her. With her skirt still bunched up and the heat still pulsating in her core – evidence of what they’d just done – it was a nice bring-me-down, a return to reality for Svea who had just been seeing stars thanks to her boyfriend. “I love you too.”

When he softened and he finally slipped out of her, she whimpered as she always did at the loss, though she knew that more would be waiting for her later. She adjusted her underwear upon hearing Elias’s belt clink again. After rearranging themselves, they looked at each other to see the other perfectly well-kept, as if Elias didn’t just fuck her against the window. Elias had a smile on his face – a proud one, not one filled with lust like minutes before. “We should get down to the car,” he said, though neither of them bothered to move. “You do look beautiful,” he added.

“We clean up well,” Svea smiled back. She stepped forward to help him arrange his tie and collar.

“I can’t wait to see you in a wedding dress,” Elias said, looking down at her.

Svea looked up. “Yeah?”

He nodded, clasping her hand in his. “Yeah.”

***

“Svea, you look fantastic!” Jacob Markstrom smiled as he bent down to hug her. Almost the entire team and their significant others had sad variations of the same thing to her as they saw her, so she knew she had picked the right dress. She and Elias were one of the last couples to arrive, but it seemed like things were running slightly behind schedule anyway because of people trying to find their seats in the giant room. It saved them, really.

“Thanks Jacob,” Svea smiled. “You look quite dapper yourself. A change from the scruffy bear you turn into when we’re back in Sweden.”

He let out a hearty laugh before moving on to greet Elias. Svea looked around the room to see it already almost full of people mingling. The stage was lit up in blue and green lights, and the DJ was playing music in the background of everything else that was happening. There were already food stations open in the middle of the room. Svea wondered if the boys could eat before they had to go their designated stations – she knew Elias and Brock were going to be set up in the photobooth part just like last year. That meant she and Grace could gossip and get a good talk in before dinner, where they would inevitably be separated at different tables.

About five minutes after Svea and Elias arrived, Brock and Grace did too. They made their rounds with the team. When Grace approached Svea, she gave her a good up-down. “You look phenomenal,” she said before going in to hug her. “Was Petey able to keep his hands off you?” she whispered in her ear.

Svea giggled. “No.”

Grace nodded knowingly as she pulled away from the hug. “Brock wasn’t either.”

Soon, the boys were called to their “stations” and Grace and Svea found their tables before going to the bar. A lot of people were approaching Grace because they recognized her from her father, and they asked questions about her and her initiatives and her uncles as Svea stood awkwardly with her, barely acknowledged or subtly acknowledged with just a nod of the head. Grace knew how to work a room, so it was fine, and she tried to include Svea into the conversations as much as possible, but people weren’t interested in her as much as they were interested in Grace. It was fine. Grace came from a prominent family of billionaires who were famous in Vancouver for their philanthropy. Svea was just…Svea. To be honest, she somewhat liked it. She could never be in the “limelight”, so to speak, as Grace was. That’s why if she went into politics, she’d be an advisor. There was no way she’d run for public office, even though she could debate better than the best politicians.

At one point, Svea and Grace unfortunately got stuck with quite the…character. Young, brash, and somehow invited to a gala that benefitted children, he was making jokes left, right, and centre. Most of them inappropriate. Both girls wished he noticed their awkward laughs and buzzed off, but such was not the case. He just had to chat up the daughter of Hamish Gillespie.

“You girls having a good time?” Brock’s voice was heard suddenly as he crept up behind them, putting his hand on the small of Grace’s back. Elias wasn’t far behind, smiling slightly.

“Whooooa ho ho! Brock Boeser!” the man exclaimed, doing one of those slap-shaking of hands boys always did with each other – if they were friends. Brock had no idea who this man was. “What’s up, Boes? Just talking to your girl here about where the Gillespie’s are donating money next.”

“Hmm, really?” Brock said, eyeing Grace and seeing the look she was giving him. “You’re talking to Grace about it?”

“Yeah, your girl.”

Elias watched as Grace rolled her eyes. “I was just about to say it’ll probably be another arts centre somewhere,” she said curtly.

“And what about you?” he nodded his head towards Svea. “Raya, was it?”

“Svea,” she deadpanned.

“Svea’s looking to do public policy and work in politics,” Elias interjected, saying the information proudly.

The man laughed out loud. Like, actually laughed out loud upon hearing the news. “You gonna be a political husband, Petey? The Good Husband? Like that TV show?” he joked.

“I don’t get it,” Svea interrupted before Elias could respond. She knew what she had to do: she had to use the technique of playing dumb and not understanding the “joke” in order to have someone awkwardly explain why they thought their racist/sexist/misogynist/ableist “joke” was funny, thus shining a light on their horrible character. She could bask in the awkwardness of them stumbling over their own words and seeing how truly ridiculous and stupid they really were. “Can you explain that to me?”

She watched as the man’s face fell slightly. “Oh, you know,” he tried to play it off. “It’s just a joke.”

“What’s the joke?”

Now his face really dropped, but he still tried to keep a smile on his face, which just made him look completely like that Chrissy Teigen meme. “It’s just…you know…”

“I don’t know.”

The man shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Petey doesn’t need his girl working in politics,” he said. “What are you even gonna do in politics anyway? How’s Petey gonna feel about that? Having his girl running around with a bunch of politicians?”

“I’m not exactly sure where you’re going with this,” Svea said. She couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. “What exactly are you trying to achieve? Please explain to me how having a successful wife is so threatening to a man’s ego?”

“Does he need the trouble?” he continued. “You can’t be out there…you…I mean, shouldn’t you just do what all the other wives and girlfriends do? Be with the kids and tend to the house like a good wife? Petey is the important one here.”

Svea was so shocked her jaw didn’t drop. She closed her jaw, curtly, and closed her mouth, curtly, out of fear of saying something she might regret. It was Brock who had to intervene. “I think it’s best you leave now,” he said as calmly as possible.

“I—It’s not—”

“Leave,” Grace stressed.

The man scoffed and walked off. Svea could feel Elias grab her hand and squeeze it. He had an angry look on his face, understandably, as he watched the guy walk off, back to his table and back to his group. Elias would make sure to walk by the table to see the company they came from so he could make a complaint. “What a fucking asshole,” he mumbled.

“What a crock of shit,” Grace piped up even louder than Elias. She looked up at Brock. “Can we kick him out? I’m serious. Can we go speak to someone so he’s thrown out? Let’s go.”

“It’s fine,” Svea said.

“But Svea—”

“Honestly, it’s fine,” she stressed. “I’m going to be a woman in politics. This won’t be the last time somebody is going to make a comment like that.” Grace was still visibly mad. So was Brock. But they listened to Svea’s wish and didn’t pursue it any further. “Let’s go sit.”

***

Despite the man’s horrible comments, Svea forgot about them for the duration of the gala and had an amazing time. There were some hilariously funny moments that the organization put the players through, and Svea was laughing almost the entire night. She had some great talks afterwards, as well, with Jacob and Troy and Bo and Holly, and when the night ended, she was tired but happy as she and Elias made their way back home. Grace suggested they go for late-night pizza but Svea was too tired. They promised Grace brunch the next morning instead, which was readily agreed upon.

“I appreciate that you don’t expect that life from me,” Svea whispered as she stood in their bedroom in front of their mirror, Elias behind her unzipping her dress. She’d already been to the bathroom to wash off her makeup.

He knew exactly what she was talking about. He honestly wondered when she was going to bring it up. They’d been through this discussion months earlier when Francesca made her comments. He couldn’t believe they had to put up with them again. “I know you do,” he said from behind her.

“I just…I haven’t gone to university and pursued a life and career in public policy or law just to be called your girlfriend and become…become a…a trophy wife! A wag!” her anger was coming through now. “And I know I shouldn’t be angry and—and I’m not, I swear, because I know how ridiculous he was, but I…still.”

“I get it. It’s okay,” Elias said as he finished unzipping her dress. “You know I’d never want to dull your shine, Svea. I never want you to settle for anything you don’t want because I know you don’t want me to do that either.”

“You don’t…” she stopped herself, thinking if she should even ask the question, since he posed the same one to her when they were in Sweden after the entire Soren debacle. “You don’t think I’m holding you back, right?”

“How would you?” he asked, his tone showing he thought it was the most absurd idea on the planet.

“From like, doing stuff with your friends. Going out, having fun…I don’t know Elias. Normal guy stuff. Normal hockey guy stuff,” she clarified.

He’d been shaking his head since her first word. “No,” he said definitively. He dress fell to the floor, leaving Svea standing in front of the mirror in just her lace underwear. “I see what some of my friends and teammates have gotten up to on the road and I don’t want that for me. The only things I want in my life are my family, hockey, and you. There’s nothing else I need.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” he nodded. “You keep me grounded, Svea. I don’t need to do that shit when I have you at home.”

“I just don’t want you to miss out,” she said.

“I’m not missing out. Trust me. I still have my fun but I have it on my terms.”

Svea internalized his words and nodded her head. She turned around and began helping him undress, undoing his tie and the buttons on his dress shirt before moving to his belt, the clinking of the metal reminding her of their previous activities just hours ago. “I know that you love me. And you know that I love you. I just want to make sure you’re living the life you want because I know you want me to live the life that I want. Which is why I’m comfortable with telling you the next thing I’m going to say.”

“Which is?”

“If we get married, we’re not having kids anytime soon. I’m not even entertaining the idea,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “Like, it’s not on the table. It’s not an option. I’m going to school and I’m working. And when I’m ready, we’re having kids.”

Again, Elias was nodding from the beginning of her first words. “I’m fine with that. I—yes, I’m fine with that.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” he kept nodding as she pushed his dress shirt back with her hands, letting it fall to the floor as well. “There’s no way I can even think about taking care of a kid right now anyway, so there’s no way I’m gonna do that to you. I wouldn’t put that on you while I go live my dreams. You have to live your dreams too.” He bent down slightly to give her a light kiss on the tip of her nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

That night, as Svea was on top of him, under him, on her hands and knees for him, spooning him, and everything in between; as every orgasm coursed through her body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes like a tidal wave, leaving her a shaking, moaning, mewling, whimpering mess, she was shown time and time again how much Elias loved her, how much he adored her, how much he would do anything for her; and she was shown, more than anything, that they were in this together.

>< >< >< >< ><

Dear Miss Nilsson,

Congratulations! We are pleased to offer you acceptance into the Peter A. Allard School of Law…

***

Dear Miss Nilsson,

Upon review of your application, we are pleased to offer you acceptance to the University of British Columbia’s Master of Public Policy and Global Affairs…

>< >< >< >< ><

“Stella! Stella! Speak!”

“Brrrrrrrraaaaark!”

“Gooood girl, Stella!” Svea gave her a treat. “Okay, now twirl!” she did the hand motion, and Stella spun around and sat down when she was finished. “What a good girl you are, Stella!”

“RrrrrBARK!”

Svea watched as Elias came up behind Stella and picked her up in one swift movement, swooping her up in his arms as he brought her up to his face. He snuggled his face into hers, her wet nose tickling his skin before she started licking his face. Svea laughed at the sight, and soon Elias was laughing too because Stella wouldn’t stop. “You’re just like mommy, Stella.”

“HEY!” Svea opposed, pinching him on his side and causing him to wince. “That’s not very nice.”

“It’s true though.”

“So what if it is,” she mumbled as she watched their puppy continue to lick his face. “We should put her harness on her now if we’re going to take her to the park.”

“But before that,” Elias said, placing Stella back down on the floor before walking over to their fridge. He bent down to open the freezer and took out a bottle of champagne. Stella waddled over to him, trying to see what else was in the freezer. “What’s that?” Svea asked as he set the bottle down on the counter. It was an expensive bottle too – he’d really gone all out.

“You didn’t think I’d just give you that necklace to celebrate you getting into your programs?” he asked with a smirk on his face. He took out two champagne flutes from a cabinet and set them down on the counter.

Svea touched the necklace sitting pretty around her neck – the Cartier Love necklace in yellow gold with diamonds, of course to match her bracelet that she hadn’t taken off since. “Elias…”

“And I know you still have to think about which one you’re going to choose,” he said as he took the foil off the top and began to uncork the bottle, “but we’re still going to celebrate. Because you’re my Svea, and I love you more than anything.”

Svea bent down to pick up Stella and cradle her in her arms as Elias poured the champagne into the flutes. “I did choose,” she said softly. “I came to the decision mentally, like, half an hour ago and I was going to tell you at the park.”

“Oh yeah? And?” he asked as he finished pouring.

She took a deep breath. “The Master of Public Policy and Global Affairs.”

Elias smiled from ear to ear, handing her one of the flutes to hold. He stepped towards her and wrapped an arm around her, cradling her and Stella against him. “To you, my pretty girl,” he said softly as he looked down at her. “My moon, my stars, my Svea.”

>< >< >< >< ><

@ThomasDrance: BREAKING: Elias Pettersson has signed a contract with the Vancouver Canucks. More to come shortly.

@ThomasDrance: Sounds like a long-term deal. Elias is staying. Canucks fans rejoice.

@ThomasDrance: Somebody on the media beat just screamed. Another danced. One is just smiling as he’s staring down at his phone. Just in case you were wondering how happy the people of Vancouver are.

>< >< >< >< ><

“You guys want to meet up on…let’s say Saturday?” Svea asked Grace on the phone. She was lying on the couch with Elias giving her a foot massage and Stella sleeping on her chest.

“Yeah, of course. Pippa down!” she asserted. “What were you thinking?”

“We kind of want to go super-fancy,” Svea said, knowing that Grace would be able to help with that. “Like, really nice outfits. And I want Brock in a suit.”

“I’ll make reservations at Hawksworth,” Grace said like it was the easiest thing in the world – because it was for her. Everyone else would need to wait weeks. But not her. “And I’ll stuff Brock too-many-cookies-gut into a suit, no problem.”

“Make the reservation for 1:30 in the afternoon. But can we meet at 11?”

“Of course…” Grace said. “Why so early?”

“For Stella. We need to show you something with Stella.”

>< >< >< >< ><

Elias waved Brock down outside once he noticed his car. Elias was dressed in his best suit, one he’d know he’d never wear again from now on. He watched as Brock parallel parked the car on the street. Grace got out first, wearing a very pretty and fitted yellow dress with a boatneck and cap sleeves, looking especially elegant. Her hair was sleeked back into a low bun, and she had a pair of high-heeled sandals on to complete her look. Brock followed behind her, wearing one of his particularly well-tailored and fitted black suits, shiny new shoes and a skinny tie.

“Why’d you make me dress up?” Brock asked as he approached Elias, adjusting his jacket so he could button it up.

“You know I like seeing you in a suit.”

Brock winked. “I do, but you see me in one almost every other day. Why my best suit?”

Elias didn’t have the opportunity to answer, because Svea came up from behind him to hug Grace and Brock. They both bent down and kissed Stella as well. “Do you guys mind if I leave my jacket in your car? It’s getting a bit hot out,” she asked as she began unbuttoning her trench coat.

“Yeah yeah, of course,” Brock nodded, moving to open the backseat door for her.

When Svea handed the handle of the leash to Elias and took off her trench coat, she had everybody staring. She revealed the dress she was wearing: plunge V-neck, frilled outline, sequin-embellished waistband, flowy skirt.

White.

“Wait…” Brock held his hand up, not bothering to close the backseat door even though Svea was finished throwing her jacket in the back. Finished and waiting. He had a confused look on his face. But then it suddenly hit him. “Are you guys getting fuckin’ married?”

Svea smirked. When Grace saw, she screamed at the top of her lungs. Brock looked at Elias, who was now smiling and laughing at Grace’s reaction. “Are you fucking joking?” Elias shook his head. “You guys are getting fucking married?! Right now?!”

“Yup,” Elias finally nodded his head. “You and Grace are our witnesses, and you may or may not need to FaceTime in our parents and siblings.”

If it was possible, Grace screamed even louder before jumping up and down and lunging herself at Svea, who was ready to catch her and hug her. Brock and Elias watched as she kept changing “ohmygodohmygodOHMYGOOOOODDDDD” over and over again before she finally had the wherewithal to grab Svea’s left hand. When she did, she saw Svea’s ring: a beautiful yellow gold pave ring with a sapphire halo around the centre diamond – a giant round cut that took up most of Svea’s finger. She gasped at the sight of it. “Oh my God this is stunning,” she said, inspecting it before turning to Elias. “You picked this out?”

“Wow Grace. You don’t have faith in me?” Elias smiled.

She turned to Svea. “Our men have no taste. You have to tell me who picked it out.”

“HEY!” Brock protested. “I have taste!”

“We went to the jewelry store together. I chose the diamond and he said to get it bigger—”

“—Good—”

“—and then I wanted the pave band. But it was Elias who actually suggested the sapphires in the halo.”

Grace nodded. “The sapphires make it. They truly do.” She gave Elias another look. “Good job Elias.”

“Thanks Grace.”

“So are we gonna do this thing or what?!” Brock asked, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get married!”

***

The picture was simple, and taken by Brock. In it, Elias and Svea stood on the steps outside Vancouver City Hall. They stood side by side, and were holding hands. Svea held her bouquet by her hip, and in Elias held the leash for Stella, who was sitting in front of them, smiling at the camera. They were smiling, too. Formal smiles, mostly, but in Elias’s unabashedness, and in Svea’s absolute pure joy.

Elias posted a simple caption.

💒

***

@of_pettersson: The Church of Pettersson could have married you!!! Alas, we bestow best wishes to you and your bride!

@peteyfan40: pettersson married? What a way to ring in his contract!

@canucklehead406: gotta love that the first thing elias does after signing a contract is get married. Remember that ice and dice when he said he’d never had a girlfriend? What a change

@vancitybaby: ok, so I’m not the only one who think elias looks super cute with his new wife and puppy, right? Like I basically sobbed.

@ThomasDrance: Signs a contract, gets married. Bride is childhood best friend Svea Nilsson. Congrats to Elias & Svea. Bright things are in their future.

@BBoeser16: So happy for my two best friends and to have been there with them <3

@gracegillespie: I love love. Congratulations to Elias, Svea, and Stella.

>< >< >< >< ><

Elias and Svea cuddled on the couch. Svea was in Elias’s lap and Stella was sleeping in hers. Elias placed a kiss on Svea’s temple. “I love you so much, Svea.”

She smiled. “I love you too Elias.”

For at least a moment, everything was perfect.

202 notes · View notes

kimnamjoonsrightthigh · 4 years ago

Text

1.1/Friday afternoon/KNJ

Series Protector, protected

Part 2/?

Summary On your way home, you encounter someone in need of your help. Giving it earns you six new friends and one new enemy.

Genre(s) Drama, fluff, bit of angst, bit of antagonists to lovers, eventual smut, hurt/comfort.

Pairing Namjoon x Reader.

Warning(s) Alcohol consumption.

Tags Tourist!AU, reader is a clumsy brave idiot, Jungkook is everyone’s baby, possessive!Namjoon, this will be a long one.

Wordcount 1.5K.

A/N I’m new to the social media AU sphere and also not from the US, if anyone could recommend me an app or a program for good fake texting/insta/twitter, that’d be amazing and I would love you forever.

On Friday afternoon, you were frowning into your gin tonic. Ani slumped into her seat across the table from you. A sigh left her lips, which went unnoticed by you as you watched the ice cubes in your drink. She narrowed her eyes at you and your expression.

“Earth to Y/N,” she said slowly, “are you here with me?”

“Hmm.”

“I take that as a no.”

“Yeah.” You considered the glass in front of you critically, with a look so scathing that it was usually reserved for incompetent colleagues, or annoying plaintiffs. Diluting liquor, you mused, seemed like a waste of everybody’s time, and yet you couldn’t stand shots without a chaser. You wanted to cling to that train of thought, somewhere between cocktail recipes and youthful memories, but you couldn’t. Mentally, you were still stuck on the group you encountered last night, replaying the encounter in your head over and over again. Your regrets had launched you into a full-on anxiety spiral that morning. You should have insisted on going with them. You should have insisted they take Jungkook to the hospital. Hell, you should have at least given them your damn name so the cops would have a witness. Bottom line, you should have done anything that didn’t include you awkwardly shuffling your way out of there. You felt like an idiot even thinking about it, but you couldn’t not think about it, either, because you were simply too old to behave like a headless chicken.

“I’m hungry,” Ani said, picking up the menu again, “let’s split some nachos.”

You hummed a response. Nachos seemed like a good way to take the edge off before you ordered another gin tonic. And then another. With ice. Which was cold. Like nights usually were. Unlike last night, when you had left a group of helpless tourists standing in an alley on their own… damn it. You had almost managed to pull yourself out of it. Almost. You forced yourself to look at Ani, whose eyes were focused on something behind you. She shook her head before saying: “That dude is wearing two fanny packs. No, three. Tourist much?”

Your head whipped around so fast you almost snapped your own neck. Sure enough, there was Seokjin, digging into one of his many pockets while Namjoon was fiddling with his phone and Hoseok studied the menu board of a restaurant further down the street. You nearly fell out of your chair in disbelief. They were all there, all seven of them. Either you got heatstroke at lunch and were now hallucinating, or the universe was sending you a sign to make things right.

“Order the nachos, Ani,” you mumbled. Without acknowledging her answer, or considering your choices further, you pushed to your feet and started walking towards the men. You were a few feet away, heart hammering in your chest, when you called out Namjoon’s name. More than one head shot up. You scanned their faces quickly, and they all seemed okay. Jungkook’s bruises looked better in the daylight, too. A smile blossomed on your face as the relief crashed right through you. Hoseok and Jungkook smiled back at you.

“Hey, guys,” you said.

Namjoon’s expression was unreadable when he looked at you, the hint of a strained smile playing about his lips. “Hello, Y/N.”

“You all look alive. And kicking. That’s good.” You felt a familiar nervousness claw its way up your spine, settling at the back of your neck like an oversized memory. Your hand came up to brush your hair from your face, and you found it trembling a little. “How’re you, Jungkook?”

“I’m good, thanks.” There was that grin again, slightly mischievous, but mostly sweet. You had no idea how any self-respecting mugger could have picked him of all people as a victim.

“Good. Great, actually. I, uh, wanted to apologize for running out on you like that yesterday. I should have stayed. Did you end up going to the police?”

“We did,” Namjoon said, “They wanted to put out a call for witnesses when we couldn’t give them your name.”

You blushed at that, because of course they did, and you didn’t think of it. “Yeah. Again, I’m sorry. I’ll get down to the station next week.”

“Seven strangers late at night,” he replied, shrugging in lieu of mentioning what seven strangers late at night might be capable of, “I would have wanted to leave, too.”

“Oh no,” you were quick to assure him, “No, not that at all. Just… that was my first mugging, too. In a way. I’m just glad Jungkook is fine.”

He crossed his arms against his chest and you wondered if that was his defense or offense. “Jungkook is fine, alright. We’ve been his friends for years, we took care of him.” You raised an eyebrow at him, very inclined to meet his tone at least halfway. The underlying challenge was not lost on you.

“Except for the time you lost him, of course. His English is good, though, I’m sure he would have found his way back – eventually.” You noticed that the other six had taken a few steps back, Hoseok and Yoongi grinning at each other, the others looking away.

Namjoon’s jaw was working hard to contain whatever unfriendly things he was undoubtedly thinking. You watched a range of emotions cross his face before he managed to settle on a smile.

“Again, thank you for your help,” he said, clearly intending to end the conversation there. You were ready to accept that, knowing now that they were safe and well, when Jungkook put his hands on Namjoon’s shoulders from behind and mumbled something into his ear. You were close enough to hear that something was being said, but not what.

“Would you be open to us buying you dinner as a thank you?” Namjoon sighed. You perked up immediately.

“It would be my pleasure,” you practically purred. You never said no to free stuff, categorically. It was free stuff, after all. Also, during your day of self-inflicted mental torture about the fate of the seven strangers, you had found yourself curious about them, their dynamic, whether they had enjoyed their vacation so far. There were things you wanted, no, needed to know. You didn’t believe much in fate, but two chance encounters were one too many for even you to ignore. So before Namjoon could change his mind or grab Jungkook and make a run for it, you pulled your phone out and motioned for him to do the same. Seokjin seemed to put as much trust in Namjoon as you did, because you saw him typing while you recited your phone number out loud.

“Tomorrow?” you asked, “I can come pick you up if you want.”

When Namjoon smiled this time, it seemed almost genuine. “Our treat, so we’re picking you up.”

After a few more waves and bows and goodbyes that were slightly less awkward than before, you returned to your table from where Ani had been watching the situation unfold, always ready to intervene if you showed any kind of discomfort or alarm.

“Don’t tell me that was them,” she scoffed into her beer.

“Yep.”

“And when did your life become a romantic comedy?”

“There’s nothing romantic about it,” you protested immediately. “It’s called civic courage. My duty as a citizen.”

“You’re full of it, Y/N,” Ani said, “but they’re hot. Whoever Jungkook is, you should have carried him to the hospital bridal style and locked that shit down.”

“Shut up and mind your boyfriend instead of ogling tourists.”

“Getting possessive already, are we?”

After running some much needed errands on Saturday morning and getting some even more urgent cleaning out of the way, you were contemplating your closet when your phone vibrated with a new notification.

“I have no time for more of your boyfriend drama, Ani…” you mumbled to yourself as you picked it up. It wasn’t Ani, however, it was Namjoon, confirming the dinner time.

“Ever the gentleman,” you told your empty bedroom, but texted back something affirmative anyways. The big question remained, what in the fuck am I going to wear? So far, “dinner” was all the information you had. That could mean anything from a pizza slice to an actual reservation. You didn’t know where, what, for how long, would there be dessert? Should you wear a dress, or a dress? Sneakers or boots, in case you had to walk? The uncertainty was stressing you out more than any meeting you’d had this week. You decided it was high time to call the cavalry, but then Ani didn’t pick up and you were left to your own devices once more. Frustrated, you flopped down onto your bed to scroll through some apps. Your messenger was still opened to the last message, and you figured even Namjoon wouldn’t find a reason to get annoyed at you over a simple question.

You groaned, burying your head in your comforter. He really had to make this harder than absolutely necessary – not that you had expected him to be actually helpful. But even without his expertise, you were dressed and ready when 7 came around and your doorbell rang.

#BTS #BTS fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon

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kareofbears · 4 years ago

Text

plainly in truth, chapter 2/5

“Without you around, it’s sorta like stuff is just kinda…bleh.“

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

Yusuke wasn’t too sure if what he was doing was of the right mind, but his heart is definitely in the right place.

There’s a lapse in time between Jails and hitting the road. Everyone is out soaking in the last of Sendai; Ryuji and Akira (and by extension, Sophia) are on a quest to buy any last minute supplies that they might need while the girls and Morgana are taking in the sights that they didn’t quite manage to explore as much as they’d like.

Well, the girls who like crowds and sightseeing are on a quest, at least.

Futaba and Yusuke are in the trailer by their own volition—he didn’t need to see anything else that wasn’t a timeless statue, and he learned early in his life that if you pace your spendings, you can then use that money to spend in the future. Quite the contrary, Futaba has had a little too much excitement these past few days and is more than happy to hide away in her top bunk with only her laptop charger peeking out from the bottom of her fleece blanket.

(A cartoon rendition of the Sendai temple is printed onto the fleece. Apparently Haru had yet to see Futaba purchase anything ‘tourist-y’ and action figures of various anime characters don’t seem to count.)

He tugs on her laptop cord. “Hello.”

“...What?” she grunts, voice slightly muffled. Through the thin fabric, he can see the illumination from her screen.

“I need help reacting to something.”

“And you decided to ask me?” she deadpans. “The literal shut-in?”

“The previous shut-in,” he corrects. “You haven’t been a shut-in in nearly a year. A marvelous feat, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah, and this is my way of celebrating.” The lump on the bed seems to curl further in on itself. “Begone. Do a painting or something. This is my me time. The equivalent of guzzling down a boat load of Arginade. There’s barely any time to be by myself considering the whole group is treating this RV like a pimped out party bus, so shoo.”

J-pop starts playing from inside the blanket fort, and even Yusuke knows a dismissal when he hears one. That won’t stop him, though.

He tugs again, harder. “That is the reason I’m asking you now. I can’t have this be heard by prying ears.”

Had there been a cat on the bunk bed, its ears would have twitched. “Is this…?”

“Yes,” he nods sagely. “It’s a secret.”

Futaba’s head pops out, eyes wide and nearly glowing in excitement. If there was one thing that she liked more than recovering her energy, it's uncovering every nook and cranny of people’s lives, whether they want it or not.

“Inari, you should’ve said something!” She throws the blanket off herself, snatches her laptop in her arms and jumps down. Slamming it down on the booth, she throws herself on top of the smooth faux leather. “Tell me everything. The deets, the specs, all down to the last dirty drop of tea.”

He slides in to join her, albeit much slower. “Before you tell me that I misled you, I want to make it clear: I don’t know what the secret is.”

“What!” she slaps her forehead, groaning. “Yusuke, why would you do me like that? That’s false advertising to the max, and I do not appreciate you tricking me.”

“There wasn’t a trace of trickery. What I’m about to say really does have to do with a secret, but I need your help with how to deal with it.”

“I’m gonna level with you here pal,” she puts a hand on his wrist. “I’m not the right person for this, but I’d be darned if I let you walk away without telling me anything. So let’s hear it! I’m ready for some juicy goss. Oh! Can I guess? Is it about Haru?”

He frowns. “No. Is there something about Haru?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I was asking you!” she says, patting her hands rapidly on the table. “Come on, just spill the beans already.”

“There are no ‘beans’ to spill yet, and besides, that sounds like a waste of perfectly good food.” He leans back against the plush cushion. Only a pinch of guilt arises in him as he says it. “It’s about Ryuji.”

“Ooo, Skull himself. Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting him.”

“It relieves me that you said that. I share the same sentiment—it wasn’t until I had run into him the night before when I had started to truly suspect something. And what I found was…” he trails off.

Her lips pull downwards. “That bad?”

“It was worrying, to say the least.”

She sighs. Most of the energy in her seemed to have filed out in the presence of a more serious topic. “Dang. I knew it was fishy when he left, but he’s always been able to just hash things out on his own.” Her expression changes as an idea pops into her head, and it morphs into one he recognizes. “Does—?”

“No. Akira doesn’t know, apparently.”

Futaba splutters, and he has to resist the urge to nod his head at her reaction. “He—Akira—wait, what? He doesn’t know? Oh, it must be bad bad.”

“My thoughts exactly. Initially, I had thought that whatever this was, it was manageable. Like that time he had spent his month’s allowance on a claw machine to win Makoto that light-up buchimaru.” Idly, he touches her keyboard lightly, appreciating the kaleidoscope of colors that emanate from it. “You know how I feel. We’re the Phantom Thieves; we can’t allow anyone to suffer alone, even if the one we’re helping is a Phantom Thief himself.”

Futaba raises an eyebrow. “And how do you want to help him?” she asks. “By talking to him? Let’s be real, you and I have the lowest social stat in this group. Combined, we can maybe reach the nerd student council president, and the guy who can and should handle this doesn’t even know about it!” Biting down on her lip, “Should we tell Akira?”

“Absolutely not. That was the one thing he had requested, and we cannot go against it. By extension, I don’t think we should tell anyone else.” A thought comes to him. “Wait, he mentioned that Ann knows of his situation.”

“Great! Someone who knows how to deal with people’s problems and isn’t us. What are we waiting for?” She reaches for her phone, and Yusuke proceeds to smack her hand out of the way. “Ow?”

“Don’t call her!” he hisses. “Ryuji said that she’s, and I quote, ‘part of the problem’. We can’t have her knowing that we know something.”

“Ann is?” Futaba exclaims, shoving her glasses up her nose. “This is getting too deep. We don’t even know anything yet, and it’s really starting to feel like we’re part of some conspiracy.”

“That’s right, we don’t know anything, and it is our largest road block.” Yusuke crosses his arms. “We don’t know what happened between Ryuji and Ann, or if something even occurred between Ryuji and Ann. What if they had an argument? What if they’re fighting, and it becomes irreparable between them? What if it begins affecting our Jail runs?”

“You really gave this some thought, huh?”

“But of course. I must nurture the few friends that I have managed to treasure.” He glances outside and sees the crowds clambering to see their tourist spot. “We may be different from most teenagers, but I don’t believe we’re immune to the nature of cliques or dramas or even insecurities.”

“God, what a good friend you are, it’s bugging me,” Futaba accuses. “So what the heck, Mr. Philanthropist? We’re stuck between a rock and our friend group here. This mission was doomed before you even dragged me out from my hideout,” she says, eyes drifting away to stare longingly back at her bunk bed.

“Stop making that expression. There’s a reason why I talked to you about this.” He leans forward. “What I’m asking is, to be frank, unfavorable, but I really do believe that it’s worth it to do this.”

She looks at him, and it only takes her a few seconds for realization to set in. Her jaw drops. “Oh Inari, that’s vile.”

“If you’re uncomfortable with it—”

“I didn’t say I was uncomfortable with it,” she cuts in. The grin on her face is wide; a woman in her element. “I just thought you’re the one who’d be all against this kind of thing.”

Futaba pulls her laptop towards her. “Sit back and observe the master at work.”

He watches as her fingers breeze through the keyboard, eyes inscrutable as light reflects off of her glasses. “So you can do it?”

“I’ve hacked into the Diet Building’s security cameras on a dare back when I was twelve,” she snorts. “This is Mario Kart Baby Park with the railings up.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It means—” With a flourish, she hits a key before glancing up at him, smug. “That this will be very easy. I’m thinking we can start with their text messages and work our way up to the big stuff.”

“Oh, right. You can go through our phones,” he grimaces. “You’ve stopped doing that, yes?”

“Of course I have! By the way, did you figure out what courses you wanted next term? I saw your advisor was bugging you about it, you should really email her back.”

“Yes, I’ve finally decided on sculpting as opposed to visual photography since it lets me focus on the anatomy of...” he pauses. “Wait—”

“Okay, looks like I got his text messages with Ann, so let’s all focus on this now!” she says loudly. “Scooch over, let’s go through ‘em.”

He does, and she moves to sit next to him. Yusuke peers at her screen. “Nothing out of the ordinary. There is a significant drop in the frequency of his replies, but that’s been the case for me as well.”

“Same here.” She continues scrolling up rapidly, so fast he wonders how she can keep up with herself. “Memes, memes, lots of ‘where you at’ texts, more memes…”

Something catches his eye. “Hold. Go down slightly, I think that link might be interesting.”

“‘How to treat knee pain: 11 steps with pictures’?” she reads aloud. “His knee is acting up again?”

“What’s peculiar is that I haven’t seen any sign of it.” He squints at Ryuji’s response to it—generic gratitude. “Even in Jails, he runs around without a care in the world.”

“What’s even weirder is that Ann is actually sending Ryuji wikihow links on how to treat his knee,” she snorts. “Let’s put a pin in this one and move on, Ann’s chat is chalking up to be a dead end.”

Rubbing her hands together, she straightens up like a professor in front of a lecture hall on the first day of classes. “Now Yusuke, when you’re looking to crack someone open like a tasty, moist omelette, there are two things that you must look into: their email and their bank account.”

After some clicking, Ryuji’s email pops up. “Email is obvious, since this pretty much tracks anything big. Delivery shipments, subscriptions to websites, acceptance letters. It’s all here in a neat little bow, ready for us to read.”

“‘Manga’s are 20% off for this weekend only,” he reads. “‘Anime convention next weekend’, ‘Pizza coupons’.”

“Ugh, he’s so boring! Next!” Clicking sounds through the RV, emphasizing how much they were snooping through their friend’s private life. “Bank account, show us your wisdom.”

“My word,” Yusuke gasps when the tab opens up. “That’s quite a lot of funds.”

“Inari, four thousand yen is definitely not a lot of money. How much do you have in yours?”

“I don’t have an account,” he admits. “I was on my way to the bank to open one, but I ran out of train fare. By the time I had gotten there, it was already closed. Quite rude, considering that it was only two o’clock.”

She levels him with a look. “Was it a Sunday when you did all this?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Never mind,” she shakes her head. “Okay, so nothing conclusive or even embarrassing. That means that whatever this is, he really doesn’t want anyone knowing about it.”

Futaba hops out of the booth and starts rummaging through everyone’s luggage. “That means we unlock the secret, classic, never goes out of style method of snooping—” with an expression of triumph, she showcases Ryuji’s backpack to him. “Going through their stuff IRL.”

Yusuke winces. “Don’t you think we might be going too far?”

“Hey, what’s with the cold feet? Where was your ‘justice’ from before?”

“I’m all for justice,” he watches her unzip the backpack, recoiling. “But even this seems a little excessive.”

“Look, we already went through his email, his bank account, his text messages. At this point, it’s kind of weird if we don’t find anything. Like—” she throws a pair of shorts behind her as she rummages. “What kind of teenage boy doesn’t have anything to hide? And also, it’d be kinda messed up to go through his stuff and come up empty-handed. If we didn’t find anything—” she pulls out several t-shirts and a crowbar and places them on the ground next to her. “Then we’d just be a bunch of snoops.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he reluctantly agrees. “Above all else, we need to find out what’s happened in his life to make him so upset.”

“Exactly. Oh man, wouldn’t it be crazy if we just found some porn mags or something? Retro to the max, but I can totally see him as the kind of guy to lug something like that along. Unless it’s of Akira.” She makes a face. “Ew. Funny thought is no longer funny.”

“Karma, if you will.”

“Shut it. Oh ho ho, what do we have here?”

“You found something?”

“It’s some fancy looking letter.” Futaba flops herself on the ground. She clears her throat. “'Sakamoto Ryuji. This letter is to inform you that…'” she stops all of a sudden.

“Futaba?” he probes.

“Um,” she blinks, and laughs nervously. “Um?”

He reaches over, and she doesn’t resist when it slips out of her hands. Skimming through the letter, only his eyes dare to move. When he finishes, he lets out a breath. “Oh no.”

“We shouldn't've read that,” she whispers, a perfect summation of what he was feeling. “We really should not have read that.”

—

There’s something to be said about the quayside in Sendai, in the way that it’s almost exactly like Tokyo.

Sure, the buildings here are definitely shorter—gone are the towering structures back home, and instead they’re replaced with shorter structures with cute local designs and colorful patio restaurants. The people here are different, too. Maybe it’s something to do with the water here, in how it’s cleaner and how you can actually see some fish down in the canals if you know where to look. Don’t even get him started in the air; jeez, do they infuse the oxygen here with something? He hasn’t stopped taking deep breaths ever since they got here.

But despite all of those discrepancies, the feeling of Akira’s hand in his is just like being home.

“And it’s actually really interesting,” he hears vaguely. “Because back in Leblanc, there used to be a couple issues about the temperature and stuff, but in my hometown there’s…Ryuji? Are you even listening to me?“

Akira’s telling him something. A story about Morgana? And Ryuji’s sure it’s very interesting, but he’s too focused on the way that sunlight hits his cheekbones.

“I’m listening,” he lies. “Keep going. This is just my listening face, I promise.”

“Sure, sure,” Akira agrees easily. “That’s just your listening face, rather than me and my wicked good looks, right? I totally believe you.” He wiggles his fingers. “Give.”

Ryuji offers him the caramel ice cream cone in his other hand, letting him bite into it like some kind of psychopath. “Done?” he asks, shifting the tote bag tucked into the crook of his elbow, careful not to rattle the eggs inside. Akira bravely offered to carry the groceries, but he had obviously refused.

“Mmm. That’s good stuff.”

“Right? I read about the ice cream here when I was younger, and they were really hyping it up on the ad.” He takes a lick, grinning when the taste hits his tongue. “And on a summer day like this? Unbeatable. It’s really reminding me of last summer when we hung out everyday in your room eating crap, taking naps, and playing games.” It also helped that hanging out with his crush was a daily thing, he thought.

“And I got to hangout with my crush a lot too, so that’s always a plus,” Akira adds.

Ryuji stops, and Akira turns around to give him a weird look. “What?”

“You get me,” he says in awe.

“I sure hope so,” he tugs him forward, and they continue their walk, their shoes rhythmically landing on the wood in unison. A comfortable silence takes over, but that’s no good. Ryuji wants to hear him talk.

“So imagine you get ten million yen,” he starts. “What do you do with it?”

It’s not the first time he’s asked this. They discuss it often, eagerly like the dreaming boys they both are. Akira considers it and Ryuji loves that about him. It doesn’t matter how stupid his questions are—he will always answer them with as if it were a serious question.

“For starters, Yusuke’s getting a place as soon as possible.”

“Duh,” he snorts. “Apparently, his roommate brought someone back to hook up with them. Poor guy got so traumatized he slept over at Haru’s.”

“We should be glad that he didn’t ask them for poses,” Akira laughs. “Next, I’m making sure that Sojiro has enough for retirement.”

“Obviously. Rest in peace Leblanc—you make fire coffee, but no one’s there to drink it.”

“And then I’m making sure your mom has the funds for retirement for sure.”

“I love you,” he sighs.

“I know.” Akira starts swinging their hands back and forth. “Then with the rest, I’ll buy us some new shoes for when we start training again together, and whatever’s left we can split it up with the rest of the Thieves and they can do what they want with it.”

“I bet Ann would go on a shopping spree in France,” he says.

“Haru would probably donate hers.”

“Makoto’s is going straight into university. I can see her going in to get a Masters with that kind of money.”

Ryuji refuses to let his expression fall. “That’s her. Big bookworm with a capital B.” Stop talking about this, stop talking about this. “How about you, Sophia? Any clue what you’ll do with a boatful of moolah?”

A harmonic beep rings through the air and Akira passes her over to him. “I would invest in cryptocurrency and turn ten million into one hundred million,” she says cheerfully. “Then I would take that hundred million and turn it into one billion yen.”

Ryuji coughs, sliding her into his back pocket. “You know what? That’s my bad. I should’ve expected that, honestly.”

Akira plucks the remainder of their ice cream cone from his hand and throws it in his mouth, munching. Wordlessly, he takes out a pack of wet-wipes from his pockets and hands it to Ryuji.

“Thanks.” Reluctantly dropping his hand, he thoroughly cleans through his sticky fingers. “You didn’t ask me what I was gonna do with my money.”

He nods in a go ahead way.

“After I give most of it to my mom, I was just gonna give the rest to you.” Ryuji kicks a stray pebble. It skirts off the edge of the boardwalk. There’s a tug on his arm. “Yeah?”

Akira covers his mouth with a hand, before making an incomprehensible garble of noise.

“Huh? My bad, I didn’t catch that.”

A few seconds of vigorous chewing, he swallows. “I said,” Akira says, eyes glimmering the way it does when he gets really excited. “I was going to do the exact same thing.”

“Dude!” Ryuji throws his arm around his shoulders, tugging him in close. “You understand me like no one else does. What the eff!”

“I’m glad,” he says softly. Wrapping his arm around him, Ryuji blinks at the unexpected hug. “It’s nice that we're on the same wavelength.”

Suspicion tingles across Ryuji’s skin. “Hold up.” Pulling away, he squints his eyes at him. “No.”

Akira immediately looks to the side. “What?” he says, defensive. “It’s nothing.”

“No freaking way.”

“I think I saw a cool arcade back there, it has cool prizes that I think you’d like, and—“

“Kurusu Akira,” he says sternly, grabbing his face between his hands. “Don’t tell me that you’re jealous.”

“I’m not!” he insists, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. “I’m not, you know I’m not that type of guy.”

“But?” Ryuji prompts.

“But…” he hesitates. “I’d be happy for you, if you find that it’s easier to talk to other people that aren’t me.” Akira straightens up, pulling out of Ryuji’s grasp but inspects his hand like it were something to be studied. How strange it was to see his long, elegant fingers grasp his brutish, blistered ones. “I’m relieved that I didn’t leave you alone. I just...miss being your go-to, I think.”

“Akira.” He says slowly. “My man. The love of my fucking life. You are never not gonna be my go-to. You’re my go-one.” Rapping his knuckles against Akira’s temple carefully, “Your hometown is messing with you up here, making you say weird shit like that.”

“I know, I know.” Running his index finger down his wrist, Ryuji can feel how cold he is. “You knew what you were getting into when you started dating an overthinker.”

“As a chronic underthinker, no, I did not.” He kisses Akira’s palm. “But it works out, so it’s all good.”

Turning them both around, Ryuji starts walking. “I know this is super duper impossible for a guy like you, but I’m gonna have to ask you for a favor.”

“Anything.”

“You have got, to the best of your ability,” he bumps into Akira’s shoulder. “Stop stressing out.”

He frowns. “It’s my job to stress out.”

“It’s our job to stress out,” he corrects. “You and me. Founding Thieves. We share the burden, bro. We got into this together, we’re getting out of it together. That includes you worrying about our relationship outside the ‘Verse, and extend it all the way to what dingy hometown you took the bullet train from.”

“I’ll try,” he says doubtfully. “You’re kind of enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean? No way I can enjoy the most perfect person on the planet be a little jealous over his boyfriend getting attention, what kind of asshole would I be?” And before Akira can say anything, “I know, not jealous, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“I love you.”

“I know,” he flashes a peace sign.

“I know you know.” A group of middle schoolers pass them, chattering about nothing and pointing out random things on the quay, all enjoying their summer vacation. “You know that you can tell me anything, right?” he asks suddenly.

Unable to help himself, he ruffles Akira’s hair, pitch black and hot to the touch. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

“I don’t?”

Gray eyes look into his brown ones, earnest and trusting. Just like that, the light feeling in Ryuji’s chest vanishes. “No,” he responds slowly. “You don’t.”

“Good,” Akira nods, and sees where they were heading towards. “Oh, you took that seriously?”

“You bet your crisp ass I did,” he says, pushing the glass door open. The arcade is bright, neon, and littered with claw machines. Add that to the list of similarities from Tokyo. “I don’t fuck around with arcades. I’m in the top hundred players in the Gun Gale in Shinjuku.”

“Was that with Shinya or without?”

“Not important.” He surveys the area. “There it is. Can you grab us some change? I’ll pay you back.”

Akira waves his hand, walking towards the coin machine. “Don’t. What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I let you pay for our dates?”

“A hot one!” he yells. When he turns the corner, Ryuji collapses into a bright red racing chair. “Fuck,” he hisses, heart beating too damn fast for it to be normal. “Chill out, Sakamoto, jesus.”

It only gets worse when a familiar beep rings out. “Ryuji, your heart rate is at 160. Is everything alright?”

“Sophia!” he wheezes out, relieved. “Can you—will—” he stops, scrunching his eyes closed. “I’m having a panic attack, I think.”

“Searching for how to treat panic attacks,” she says immediately, and he sags into the cool plastic gratefully. “Deep breaths will help, slowly to the count of ten.”

His heart is beating so hard that he can barely hear the jingles and the whirrs of the machines around him. “Count out loud. Hurry, before he gets back.”

She does, and he grips the side of the chair as he focuses on breathing. The attack passes by faster than he hoped it would. “Thank god,” he breathes. “Thank you.”

“No prob,” she says, before hesitating. “Akira—”

“Will not know about this,” he cuts her off, rubbing his hand over his face. “I’ll tell him eventually, don’t worry, et cetera. I know all this. Ann’s been hounding me non-freakin’-stop. Just don’t tell him, Soph. Please.”

Before she can say anything, Akira comes back, pockets full of change and that signature small smile resting on his lips.

—

The bright side about missing out on Sapporo’s snow festival is having its tourism as its lowest point when you visit it in the summer.

Even the shopping district just outside Susikino isn’t very crowded; there’s the usual street vendors and shops with bright pastries and cute clothes. But even having it right beside the Sapporo Tower, it’s still nothing uncomfortable. At least, it’s not uncomfortable when you get to observe the environment through a phone lens.

“This is nice, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve had much of an opportunity to talk to you yet, which is quite rude of me.”

“No prob,” Sophia replies easily. She was swaying from Haru’s neck, hanging by a silicone phone holder that she had bought from a convenience store. Futaba had guffawed when she saw it, but Sophia’s happy about the purchase. It’s fun, and it lets her people watch from the perspective of one of her friends. “I have been meaning to talk to everyone one by one as to better understand each of you.”

“Oh, good! What better use of a nice chat while doing some shopping along the way?” Haru chirps, thumbing through a rack of out-of-season clearance sweaters as they pass. “I have to admit, I’m not the best when it comes to fashion and whatnot. Most of the time, I ask Ann-chan to accompany me.”

“I can try my best! Online websites are constantly updating in order to provide their readers with the newest trends.” Idly, she takes a peek. “Wide-legged pants are back in style.”

“That’s a relief,” she sighs. “I never pulled off skinny jeans too well. Long, flowy skirts have always been my thing. It just gives off such a nice aesthetic, doesn’t it?”

Sophia smiles. “I think you’d look good in anything. Have you considered going punk? You’d look very dope and intimidating with a black streak in your hair and a leather jacket.”

“Now that I can agree with, but that’s more Mako-chan’s style, I’m afraid.” She pauses. “Actually, I bet Mako-chan would actually like that. Sometimes I feel as though she isn’t willing to branch out of her circle of clothes past a pair of Oxfords and a deep-coloured sweater. A push might be what she needs.”

She considers this. “Is it possible to buy clothes for her? That can be a possible ‘push’, quote unquote.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so. She would never let us do such a thing.”

“One moment.” Pulling out a few files from inside her memory storage, she clears her throat. “According to my data analysis, Niijima Makoto has high difficulty straying away from well-mannered behaviours. Do you think that includes saying no to gifts given to her? That can be advantageous.”

Haru stops walking and pulls the phone up so that they’re at eye-level. “Sophia-chan,” she beams. “I have a feeling we’re going to be very good friends.”

They continue walking down the street when Haru gasps suddenly. “You literally can’t shop, can you?”

“Of course I can. I can get anything in the world for you,” she says proudly. “Anything.”

“Alright, we’ll have to test that later, but I mean you can’t use what you buy,” she frowns, eyes troubled. “Your sweater is adorable, but you’re forced to wear it everyday, right? Can you even do your hair differently? Is it possible for you to pin it, or even let it down?”

Sophia finds it endearing that she would let such a thing bother her. She doesn’t even have a social insurance number, but Haru’s worried about hair clips. “No, but I quite like it the way it is. It doesn’t get in the way when I do my work, and in the Metaverse, it gets completely hidden as to let me do my fighting,” she explains, karate chopping in her screen. “But I can understand the human desire for change.”

“Would you like that?” Haru asks gently. “To change? Um, change out of your clothes, and change mentally. Either one.”

“Change mentally, of course! I’d love to understand my friends better and understand how to help them. It’s a vast mountain of knowledge, but I’d want nothing more than to decode the mystery of the human heart,” she says eagerly. “But for clothes...I’m not sure. I haven’t tried it. I’m pretty sure I can’t try it.”

“That settles it,” Haru looks both ways before crossing the street, jogging slightly.

Sophia perks up. “If you’re heading somewhere specific, I can give you directions.”

“No need.” She has an intense, hungry look on her face, not unlike the one she had when the new axe Akira bought had finally arrived at their RV. “We’re just about here.”

They stop in front of a store, and she can barely read the sign from the phone’s angle. “‘Case in Point’?”

Haru pushes the glass door open, greeting the cashier. “It’s a phone modifier shop.”

There’s no effort to explain anything else, but Sophia can confidently add ‘anticipation’ onto her growing list of experienced feelings.

—

“Out of curiosity—” Haru begins as they exit the modifier store, the cashier still bug-eyed from the tip she had left at his counter. “Can you see everything inside Akira-kun’s phone?”

“Yes,” she replies. The environment that she lives in, and more specifically, Akira’s phone, is now a bright, perfectly polished shade of rose gold with a mint outline. A far cry from the matte black that it was before. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Her voice is sweet as sugar. “Out of curiosity once again, is there anything interesting? Anything worth noting?”

She jumps as Sophia’s voice suddenly morphs into Akira’s without warning. “Nice try,” the phone plays. “But no.”

And just as quick, Sophia comes back to the phone. “Sorry about leaving,” she says. “Akira had asked me to play that clip if someone ever, and I quote, ‘tried me.’”

Haru giggles. “Just like Akira-kun to be so thorough. Impressive as always, leader.” She peers down at her watch. “I suppose it’s about time to head back, isn’t it?”

“We still have eight minutes to spare.”

“We do. Perhaps we should take a stroll around the park?”

“Cool,” she says. “Wanna ask Futaba and Yusuke if they want to come with?”

“Sure?” Haru blinks. “That’s very specific.”

“On your two o’clock,” she points out. “In front of the book store.”

They watch as Futaba and Yusuke stand across the street from them. Futaba is aggressively pointing her finger at the books on display, then slapping her fist against her palm like she was devising a war strategy. Yusuke shakes his head wildly, comically putting his hands in his pockets and revealing that there was nothing inside. She sighs and walks away, tugging along a dejected boy behind her.

“Aren’t you going to ask them?”

“In a moment.” Haru takes them to the front of the store. “This isn’t a bookstore, I don’t think. What’s it called Sophia?”

After a quick search: “‘Sapporo’s School Supply Store’,” she says. “The alliteration makes it fun to say.”

“Indeed it does.” Peering into the store, Haru makes an introspective noise. “Now isn’t this interesting?” she hums. “Do you mind if I make one more purchase?”

“Not at all,” Sophia says, thrilled to add another point she had learned: If Haru wants something, there’s nothing that will get in her way.

—

“So,” Makoto starts, and Ryuji has to hold back a groan. He knows that tone. He’s memorized that tone. All the second years can feel her tone from a mile away. Hell, Ann probably took an instinctive step back just now. “Have you started to think about university?”

“Nope,” he says, wiping the sweat off his brow as they jog around the corner of Odori park. Back before he had left for his hometown, Akira and Ryuji would be up at dawn to train. Lately though, he’s been using any free time he has that isn’t planning for, prepping for, or actively doing a Jail run to sleep in the RV. And hey, he has no beef with Makoto, and it’s not like she can’t keep up with his training (she can most definitely kick his ass in hand-to hand), but she has a tendency to push when it comes to this sort of stuff. “Not a single thought towards it. It’s been pretty good, actually.”

“I can tell,” she agrees. “It’s almost like you blocked my number.”

“I did not!”

“So you actively choose not to answer any of my texts?”

“Ugh, don’t set me up like that,” he winces. “You know I’m stupid enough to fall for shit like that everytime.”

“Hold on.”

Ryuji grunts as he feels a hold on his shirt, forcing him to stop. “Ew, don’t touch my back, it’s Nigeria there.”

“First of all, it’s Niagara.” She spins him around. He’s only a little taller than her, but something about her always seems to tower over him. “Second, do you know why I keep pushing all of you to go to university?”

“Because you hate us?” he mumbles.

Makoto glares at him. “Try again.”

“...Because you don’t hate us?”

“Because I don’t hate you,” she repeats. “You’re all rowdy and wild and sometimes I don’t understand the jokes you make—”

“You’re just mad ‘cause you fell for a deez nuts joke.”

“But I do, inexplicably, love all of you,” she pushes on, and that shuts him up. “I know what you’re all capable of. Amazing things! I understand you all believe that I’m the be-all end-all, and I appreciate your compliments, but there are some things that only Ann can do, or Akira, or Yusuke.”

Makoto continues running, and he reluctantly follows suit. “And you. You can achieve things that I can’t even dream of, Ryuji.”

He resists the urge to yawn. “Thanks for the pep talk, Niijima.” Looking left, the gelato is looking real good. “Wanna get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“You aren’t very good at hiding secrets, Ryuji.”

Now that grabbed his attention. “Whoa, whoa, whoa there, prez!” Speeding past her, he holds out a hand to make her stop. “What do you mean by that?”

She raises a brow. “Nothing in particular, but your reaction is showing me that I should have meant something by it.”

He gnaws on the inside of his cheek roughly. “Okay, but why did that come into your brain? Why do you think I have some kinda secret?”

“I live with a prosecutor everyday of my life, of course I know when something’s afoot.” Pushing her hair back, she squints up at him. “You’ve been more...jumpy lately, yet somehow more laid-back than usual. I wanted to talk to Akira about this—”

Blood pours into his mouth when he accidentally bites too hard. “You talked to Akira?!” he half yells, red dribbling from the corner of his lips.

“Oh my god!”

“Fuck,” he clamps a hand over his mouth. “Sorry. Bit too hard.”

“N-no! Don’t apologize!” she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a napkin, pulling him to a stone ledge. “Sit and take this so you don’t bleed all over yourself. I’ll be back.”

He doesn’t bother speaking, only nods as she turns around. When she comes back, she’s holding a water bottle. “Here.”

Taking it gratefully, he takes deep gulps before spitting it out. “Why the hell does this taste like the beach?” he splutters.

“I didn’t say to drink it! It’s salt water to get rid of infections!”

“Why would you do that to me?!”

“Because I thought you knew to do that from the second-year health class!” she shoots back. “Gargle it and spit. Near the gutter, mind you, it’s rude to spit in front of kids. They might get the wrong idea.”

As if kids are gonna see him and think that there’s something worth remembering. He sips, sloshing it around his mouth before gently letting it dribble into the grated sewer. “Blegh.”

“You’re welcome. Keep at it. And while you’re doing that,” she sits next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “Do you want to tell me what’s been making you anxious?”

He pauses. “Anxious?”

Makoto gives him a stern look. “‘Experiencing worry, unease, or nervousness, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.’ It was covered in your midterm.”

“Ah, right,” he mutters. Gripping the fabric of his shirt, his heart is beating too quick for it to be normal. Then again, when was the last time it wasn't? “You think I’m anxious?”

“I’m not sure. Keep gurgling,” Makoto chides.

He does, the salt water still red whenever he spat, and she continues. “All I know is when my anxiety gets really bad, I chew on my lip. Sae used to chide me when we were younger, but you know, she got busy,” she shrugs, as if he didn’t know how much it pained her to lose her only family member to a career of protecting the wrong people. “When I mentioned it to Akira, he took it upon himself to check up on me regularly during exam weeks.”

To prove her point, she takes her lower lip and flips it out for him to see—white teeth marks, but old scars instead of anything fresh. Letting go, her expression is smug. “He hasn’t felt the need to check in for a while now.”

Spitting, water finally running clear, he grins. “Good for you. I’m glad to hear that, dude.”

“Thank you, but that wasn’t the point. My point was that I was only able to get better because I told someone about it. Someone I trusted.” Makoto turns to him, her gaze serious. “I know that’s what Akira is to you. Habits like these are harmless at first, but they can turn into something else more dangerous. I won’t stand for that. My own justice won’t stand for that.”

Ryuji opens his mouth, before closing it. I’ll tell Akira, he wants to say. How many times does he have to repeat that line before he starts believing it himself? “Okay,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can say without hating himself even more.

“Okay.” She pats his knee before standing. “I can get us some gelato.” She stretches, wincing as her joints crack into place. “If you’re feeling up to it, start your cool down. Unless you wanna keep training?”

“I’m good. Felt enough blood rush for the day.”

She goes to the ice cream stand, and he stares up at the blue sky.

Makoto’s right, because of fucking course she is. She’s right, he knows she’s right. But she doesn’t get it. To her, Akira’s a friend. A guy who helped her out and changed her life, yeah. If he hadn’t met her when she did, maybe she would’ve become a scummy adult who didn’t look up from market pricing and hedge funds.

But Ryuji? Ryuji would be dead without Akira. That’s a fact and a half.

To Makoto, Akira’s a friend. To Ryuji, he’s Akira, and you can’t be on a higher pedestal in his mind than that.

—

It was Yusuke who took the first step.

“Ann,” he greets cordially. “How do you do?”

She gives him a weird look. “Kinda trying to focus here,” she says, gesturing at the scene in front of them. They, Morgana, and Sophia were in the B team as they watched the rest of them try and get rid of the remaining Shadows in Mariko’s Jail, tersely attentive and waiting on Joker’s word in case they needed a last minute switch. The Jail was environmentally brutal; the ice underneath the soles of their shoes makes them skid more often than they’d like. It almost makes the fights seem quicker, one notch faster than usual.

Yusuke pays her dismissal no mind. “I, myself, am learning many new things lately. Can the same be said about you?”

In the corner of his eye, Futaba pauses typing on her laptop to face palm.

“Are you...” Ann says after a brief pause. “Is this a threat? Are you threatening me?”

“No—”

“Panther!” Akira’s clear voice rings out.

Ann dashes forward without question, high-fiving Morgana as they trade spots.

Futaba marches forward, glaring at Yusuke like he was crazy. “You dolt!” she hisses. “What was that supposed to be? I said be slick and cool, not act like a fool!”

“While I admire the rhyme scheme, I don’t understand what you want from me. That was as ‘slick and cool’ as I’m capable of,” he furrows his brow. “I even opened with a question that seemed as though the conversation would be a normal one, but then used that to transition into what I actually wanted to discuss.”

“Stop looking so proud of yourself and—”

“Fox!”

“Back in a moment,” he says before he’s gone, Makoto taking his place, leather uniform still smoldering from when she took a fire move head-on.

“What was that about?” Haru asks, swinging her axe like a picnic basket.

“Nothing, Noir,” Futaba sighs, plopping back into place where Ann had stood. Carmen had kindly left a warm patch of concrete in her wake. “Just Inari became a big ole’ dumb-dumb.”

“I see,” she hums. “So this has nothing to do with what you two have been conspiring about lately?”

Her eyes shot wide open. “Con...conspiring?” she stutters out. “What do you mean by—”

A particularly loud scream rips into the air, and everyone turns their heads to see Captain Kidd slam his hook into the ground, purple arms erupting from the snow and wiping out a huge chunk of Shadows all in one go.

“Hot damn,” Futaba says, directing her focus back to her laptop and making sure Ryuji has enough health to keep going.

“He’s strong,” Haru observes, all playfulness gone.

“Too strong.” After Futaba gives everyone on the main team a good amount of health, something on her screen makes her pause. “Huh…?”

“Noir.”

Haru turns around to see Makoto waiting for her. “I need to discuss something with you.”

“Of course,” she steps closer to her and drops her voice. “Is everything alright?”

“I’d bring this up with Joker, but I don’t want to bother him if I’m not sure if there’s anything wrong yet,” Makoto pushes her mask up. “But have you noticed Skull's been acting strange lately?”

“Mona!”

He swaps with Ann, her pigtails covered in snow. “Ugh,” she grimaces as she shakes it out. “I could try and melt it, but it’ll just drip down my back and freeze later on, and I do not want that.”

“Panther, I’d like your input as well, if you don’t mind,” Makoto says.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I was just talking to Noir about this, but did you notice anything strange about the way Skull’s acting lately?”

Ann takes a step back. “Well, what—No—I mean, that’s your opinion, I think!” she exclaims. “To me, Skull's acting is completely normal. He’s normal—actually, scratch that, he’s better than usual. Nothing about him is wrong, I think, and that’s pretty outstanding and impressive once you consider that he’s the one with the life-long injury. Not that that has to do with anything!” Ann yells. “I just wanted to point out how far he’s come, and how much he’s kicking ass right now. Actually,” her voice shifts to a stage whisper. “Don’t mention this because I don’t wanna cause drama, but Fox has been a little weird.”

“Weird how?” Makoto whispers back, looking extremely lost.

“Just earlier, he asked me how I was.”

“...I’m not following.”

“No, Panther-chan has a point,” Haru breaks in. “I can’t say for certain, but I have a strong feeling that Fox and—” she points at Futaba conspicuously. “Are up to something.”

“Sophie and Fox?” Ann breathes.

“Panther!”

“Damn, again? That’s what we get for going into an ice Jail,” she grumbles, swapping with Yusuke.

Haru sighs. “Panther-chan isn’t the best with context clues, is she?”

“Hello ladies,” Yusuke greets. “What were we discussing?”

Makoto gives him a suspicious look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His jaw drops, bewildered, but before he can say anything, Futaba waves him over. “Get your fox butt over here!”

“I...Alright,” he says, resigned.

“Look at them,” Makoto nods at the pair. “I think you’re onto something.”

“I think so too, but I don’t want to be too hasty. After all, the two of them are such good friends now; it would be unfair to assume negative outcomes without evidence, or at least confront them first,” Haru says nonchalantly.

She understands immediately. “You have evidence?”

“Something of the sort.”

“Noir!”

“Duty calls,” she gives her a thumbs up, before Ann comes back once again.

“I can’t wait for us to go to a really hot place again,” she kicks the snow with her heels. “Then I’ll be comfortably in the B team because all the Shadows have fire resistance to the max.”

“Oh good, she’s back,” Yusuke’s expression is one of relief.

“Fox—” Futaba warns without looking up from her laptop.

“Come here. There is something we would like to discuss with you.” Whether or not it was intentional, he rests his hand on the handle of his katana.

“Okay but before we start, I just wanna ask—what are you doing with Sophie?” Ann accuses. “It’s fine to be friends with her, but you have to be careful. She’s really susceptible to what we say right now, and if you try anything funny—”

“What are you even saying?” he says, offended. “I barely even talk to her!”

They all glance at Sophia, who had been standing perfectly still and silent. She gives them a wave. They all awkwardly wave back.

Makoto places a hand on Ann’s shoulder. “Panther, Noir meant Fox and Oracle.” Ann flushes red as she continues. “And while we’re all here, I wanted to bring this up with you as well. Have you all noticed something strange with Skull?” Futaba stops typing. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but I think he’s extremely anxious about something. You all know that I’m an overthinker, so I might have the wrong idea but…” she trails off.

Futaba glances at Yusuke. Yusuke glances at Ann. Ann helplessly glances at Ryuji, still fighting alongside Akira and the others.

“I know nobody asked me,” they all jump a foot in the air when Sophia speaks beside them. “But I can at least confirm for suresies that there is something strange with Skull.”

“Which is…?” Makoto prods.

“I don’t know the specifics.” Ann, Yusuke, and Futaba let out a breath. “But he did have a panic attack recently.”

“I knew it!” Makoto snaps her fingers. “He’s had signs of being anxious, but I wasn’t too sure about it.”

“Queen!”

She runs out, and Ryuji comes in, looking exhausted but pleased. “Hey y’all, what were we talking about?”

It was dead silent before Sophia steps forward. “Look what I can do!” she exclaims, changing the expression on her screen to be an emoji with a flower.

“Whoa!” His eyes bug out, and they all sigh in relief. “That’s awesome! Can you do more?”

“That’s super cool Sophie, but,” Futaba looks at Ryuji, skeptical. “Don’t you feel weak right now? Your health is way down.”

“Oh, I didn’t even notice,” he rubs the back of his neck. “Sophie, you mind?”

“Not at all.” She calls for Pithos and green sparkles fall on him. “Better?”

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

“Skull!”

“When the king calls, his knight answers,” he salutes, sprinting out as Makoto comes back in.

“So,” she glares at the rest of them. “What do the rest of you know?”

Ann groans. “Even if I did know something, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you.”

“Wait,” Futaba points an accusing finger at her. “What do you know?”

“What do I know? What do you know? And for that matter, what does he,” Ann points at Yusuke. “Know? Noir said you guys are doing secret stuff together!”

“That’s preposterous,” he scoffs. “If it was secret, she wouldn’t have known.”

“That’s the dumbest argument I’ve ever heard.”

“How is it dumb?” he asks. “You can’t possibly think that just because Futaba and I are doing ‘secret stuff’ that it has anything to do with Skull’s situation!”

There was a pause. “Are those two connected?” Sophia asks. Futaba buries her face in her hands.

“That was...not the question I expected,” Yusuke answers weakly.

“Sophie!”

“God, I wish Joker would call for Inari instead,” Futaba groans.

Rushing out, Sophia high-fives Ryuji on the way. “Guess who’s back, motherfuckers?”

In an effort to bury their conversation, they all begin cheering overenthusiastically, Yusuke clapping politely. Bewildered, Ryuji instinctively gives them a thumbs up. “Thanks guys. Usually, my jokes don’t really land, but that made me real happy.”

“Uh, Skull,” Futaba raises an eyebrow. “How do you keep losing health? I didn’t even notice you taking a hit.”

“I’m low again? Damn, I didn’t even notice,” he groans loudly. “Queen, can you—”

“I’m on it.”

Just as Johanna heals him, Akira calls out once again: “Skull!”

“Joker really does rely on you, doesn’t he?” Yusuke observes.

Ryuji laughs. If they didn’t know any better, they would think it sounded a little nervous. “Well, gotta jet!”

High-fiving Makoto, he runs out. She stares at the remaining members of the B team. “You all know something,” she accuses. “And I understand if you’re all being loyal to him by keeping what you know close to your hearts. But remember this:” she takes a step forward, and they all take an unconscious step back, Futaba scooting from where she sat on the ground. “There comes a point where it’s actually more important to keep a person safe and healthy than to uphold a potentially dangerous secret.”

They all digest her words for a second, and flinch when a flash of blue flame appears, taking Akira’s Persona away.

“Finally.” He stretches his shoulders, satisfied. “That took awhile. Good work everyone, let’s keep going.”

Making their trek deeper into the Jail, Futaba half-jogs, half-speed walks to Ryuji. “Your health again,” she chides. “Seriously. I know I like to play around, but I always have my eye on you guys when you’re fighting. I literally have not seen you take a hit, but you’re getting drained like milk in a sink.”

He shrugs, unperturbed. “Whatever. You see my hits today, though? They were tough.”

“Yeah,” she agrees reluctantly. “But your health is still low. I’ll call Joker about that.”

Before she can turn, he grabs her wrist. “Nope,” he says. “I’ll ask Panther. Thanks though!”

Ryuji goes to Ann, and he can feel everyone’s eyes on him, watching him, surveying his every move.

All eyes except for the one that really matters.

#p5 #p5s #yusuke kitagawa #mine #fic tag #plainly in truth #ryuji sakamoto #akiryu #pegoryu #chapter two! neat #akira kurusu #persona 5

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gleerp-2021 · 4 years ago

Text

And here is what you missed on The roleplay!

I am updating this regularly because people should know what’s going on and scrolling through the old messages in that group chat is literally impossible.

They arrived the house. The first thing to decide was: who is sharing rooms with who?

At first Tina went to share their room with puck, but Brittany is pucks best friend and she really wanted Tina to let her share the room with Puckerman instead, so Tina, with no hard feelings, decided to find another roommate.

That roommate is now Marley. Katie was alone in her room until Blue came in, they are best friends and sharing the room.

Quinn is sharing her room with Hendrix, Kurt and Blaine are sharing their room with Hartley. Sam and Santana were the hardest to give up. Sam said he was gonna share the room with Santana and she was like “no way, who knows? You might open your mouth during your sleep and end up swallowing the whole room” but eventually she gave up.

The day passed by and they were just saying funny things, flirting with each other, doing crazy things... until Hartley accidentally set the kitchen on fire. Lucky for them those “rich people are paying all of their expenses during the summer”

Sam gave Hartley confidence to come out, and Hartley came out as gay, at the same time he admitted to have a crush on Blaine.

Since they couldn’t make any food, they decided to get drunk. Quinn was the first one to get drunk, but the others weren’t much better. They decided to play spin the bottle.

Brittany and Quinn kissed and Brittany truly thought she had found her one true love, so she asked Quinn to marry her. Quinn said yes.

Blaine and Kurt kissed and made out, and now, as Santana says, there is a “pathetic sexual tension between the two of you, but not as pathetic as Blaine’s blush whenever I bring that up, so I’m guessing you’re not acting on that”

Sam and Santana already kissed, more times than necessary, and now they are dating. Everybody went to bed super drunk and somehow Brittany, puck, Blaine, Kurt, Sam, Quinn and Santana ended up on the same bed.

In the middle of the night Santana thought they were snoring too much and decided to go to her own room. She had a nightmare that led her to an anxiety attack. It was awful and she had locked the door so no one would see her “so vulnerable” Sam was the one that helped her calm down, but he was terrified. Seeing Santana like that.

After that he asked Katie puck and Blaine for help and Katie said Santana probably wasn’t taking her anxiety meds. She talked to Santana and gave her the pills, but Santana secretly tossed them on the toilet.

Quinn, Blaine and Kurt were pretty happy. And hungover. But mostly happy. Blaine bought cronuts for everybody. But Santana was still in her awful mood because of her crisis earlier and ended up making a rant to Blaine, Kurt and occasionally Quinn.

Kurt gave up first and left the room. Blaine tried a little more, tried to talk to her about her break down, but the efforts were in vain. Quinn didn’t give up and stayed by her side with a smile.

Blaine and Kurt were talking and then they decided to go shopping because it always helps Kurt and Blaine doesn’t really mind.

Then Blue came in. Blue said Santana was playing the victim, that she was a bitch that said whatever she wanted and then played the anxious. They had one hell of an argument. Puck got involved and threatened Blue, who didn’t give up and kept pushing, but puck just decided not to do anything. Then Sam happened. He showed up and also threatened to punch blue, but blue and Santana just said they were sorry and everything is fine now. Well, not exactly fine, but no one is dead.

Tina decided to just go to the bar and get drunk. Sam and Santana went out to have dinner (aka she gave the idea and told him he was gonna pay), Marley and Quinn went to the Central Park just so they could leave that house too. Brittany asked if puck could take her to feed the baby squirrels and he did so.

Brittany found a baby squirrel that was hurt and wanted to take “baby Finn” with them, but too many people were looking and Puck was pretty sure that was illegal, but he can’t deny anything to Britt so he just called Santana and Sam and asked them to bring his and Sam’s guitar so the two of them could sing as Santana and Brittany literally kidnap “baby Finn”.

They succeeded, but the cops arrived. They ran so fast and when they reached the car, Brittany obviously forgot about her engagement as she kissed puck. Puck and Brittany made out and Sam and Santana started making out too, and then... well....

But at the house, Katie was probably the only one not mad at blue. They were talking and then started flirting, and then intensely making out and we don’t know what happened then.

The other day Rachel came. She was late because she was on a Broadway cruise and couldn’t come earlier. (Aka they made me create a new blog to roleplay with them <3)

Quinn dragged Rachel to an empty bathroom and locked the door. She gave Rachel a necklace and told her she was sorry for everything she did to her during high school and that she was a Star.

Tina and Brittany thought Quinn had cheated on Brittany but everything got clear once they explained what actually happened. Somehow they started talking about Sam’s ass and Santana realized Blaine still thinks about it, pffft.

Tina, Blaine, puck, Rachel, Brittany, Sam, Santana and Kurt left to eat hot dogs and Quinn stayed. She stayed and got drunk again.

When Marley found her, she was drunk and they cuddled and kissed. Sam and Santana also cuddled to sleep. After Marley left, Hendrix showed up and he and Quinn had sex.

Brittany and Blaine have a secret sex room where they have cameras and they have sex tapes of everybody that has ever had sex in that house (a lot of tapes).

Tina and Quinn found that out yesterday, now everybody knows about their room and it’s not a secret anymore. They are all pervs and they know it. (Though Quinn really does wanna watch the threesome between Katie, Santana and Tina).

Mercedes came in! They celebrated! (As far as I know) she isn’t sharing the room with anybody yet. Sam told her everything that happened when she wasn’t there, including the fact that he is engaged to Santana.

Mercedes and Kurt spent the night at the boy-so-secret-anymore sex room watching other people’s videos. Quinn and Tina obviously wanted each other.

The next day, (today) they were all in the not so secret anymore sex room talking. Sam and Mercedes were acting a little weird and Sam said he wanted things to be like they were before, that he wanted to be friends with Mercedes. Mercedes said “he was engaged, there was no way things would be like they were before”.

That’s when Santana realized what was going on. She was obviously mad and upset about it, but decided to just leave the room and “let them talk alone, kiss and make out” pretending she didn’t care, when she obviously did. Mercedes stopped Santana, telling her that she should stop pretending she doesn’t have feelings.

Then, they talked about how Santana keep her feelings bottled up inside and Tina agreed with Mercedes on that. It turns out Santana is just afraid. Afraid that he will leave her, like everybody else. Afraid that he will realize how much better than her she is. She thinks she doesn’t deserve him, but Mercedes does.

Mercedes doesn’t give up until Santana is talking about her feelings and she ends up crying. Brittany, Blaine, Kurt and Tina were watching, since Blaine and Kurt were too scared of Santana to do anything and Tina and Brittany loved to watch the shit unfold.

Blaine is feeding the baby squirrel (baby Finn) when Sam joins him, saying that he doesn’t know what to do anymore because Santana doesn’t understand that he actually loves her. Blaine and Sam talk and Blaine says he should give her a little time.

Tina goes talk to Mercedes after everything was over, to see how she was and say it was really nice the way she didn’t leave Santana’s side, no matter how the girl begged to be left alone.

Mercedes and Tina are talking and Mercedes let out that she liked both, Sam and Santana, and that it hurt to know they would never like her back because they loved each other.

Tina says Mercedes should try talking to them since Sam probably still feels something for Mercedes and Santana opens up to Mercedes like that. But Mercedes just can’t tell. Because “how do you tell your ex boyfriend that you are in love with him and his fiancée?” You simply don’t. Now Blaine, Kurt and Tina were shipping Samtanacedes (that’s Sam, Santana and Mercede’s ship name now).

But Blaine and Kurt had different plans. While Mercedes and Santana were talking downstairs they were watching the two of them talk. Kurt even screamed “ITS NOT GAY IF ITS IN A THREE WAY”. Then, when they saw both girls weren’t gonna kiss, Blaine leaked the same gas that sue used with him and Kurt in the elevator.

Santana and Mercedes eventually kiss and start making out. But something goes wrong and the gas soon was filling the whole house.

Blaine and Kurt were alone in the room together and feeling horny, so they kissed, started making out and it obviously led to them having sex and them cuddling.

Hendrix was feeling hot and took of his shirt, then he and Tina started talking, Tina mentioned she was feeling horny and they ended up making out, but when Hendrix took Tina to a room, they found Quinn masturbating, so Hendrix invited her to join them, which she did gladly.

Santana and Mercedes were making out in the living room couch, when Sam showed up and asked what was going on. Santana and Sam secretly felt something for Mercedes too (aka the three of them ooc are down to a poly relationship in the rp). Santana asked Sam if he wanted to join them and he obviously did.

They decided to play truth or dare. Quinn was first and she was dared to give Rachel a lap dance. Then, it was hartleys turn. He picked truth and said the person he would like to sleep with in the house (the temptation house, as they self proclaimed) was Blaine.

Then it was marleys turn. She took her shirt off and let Tina take a picture of her shirtless. Then, when Santana picked Truth, she admitted she’s been wanting to sleep with Mercedes since they sang ‘candy man’ and then it was Puckerman.

He was supposed to be blindfolded, and he had to lick peanut butter off of the person he first touched. He touches Katie and had to lick peanut butter off of her breasts. Rachel chose dare and she had to make out for one minute with three people in the house. Quinn, Puck and Tina. But Quinn looked very bothered by the fact that she had only one minute and when she was looking at Rachel and Puck...

Once the game ended, they all went to bed, but Quinn went to the kitchen with Mercedes, and they ended up hooking up. Then, when Mercedes goes to her bedroom, she sees Sam on the hallway and says she needs to talk to him.

Mercedes admitted she had feelings for both, Sam and Santana, and also said she knew they didn’t feel the same way. Sam didn’t know why she would think they didn’t feel the same way, but he knows he is very confused right now, because he thought he would take a break from the drama of that house, but apparently he didn’t. He asked if he could take Mercedes and Santana on a date so they could talk about... what happened. Mercedes said she hadn’t really talked to Santana about this and told Sam that maybe he should too since he admitted he still felt something for Mercedes.

The next day, Mercedes and Santana talk and both admitted their feelings for each other, but Santana said she had to talk to Sam first.

Tina goes to Blue and Asks him if he wanted to do something, they end up crossing paths with Quinn and Santana and the four started drinking. Until Blue and Santana started arguing again and Tina decided she has had enough, so she said the truth about Santana, Quinn and Blue. Blue told Santana to “go wash these two faces you have” and when Tina tried an intervention Santana said it was “your bug eyed hypocrite self proclaimed best friend that decided to add to his personality the dick he was lacking in his pants” and then Blue and Santana started arguing as Quinn was laughing.

Tina said that Santana needed to stop being such a bitch all the time and pretend to be all tough when she is actually not like that at all. She also told blue he is “wannabe male version of Santana” and told Quinn to stop cheating on her Fiancée all the time.

Blue, Quinn and Santana left. Quinn, Kurt and Santana got drunk and Santana drank until she passed out in her room. (And let’s never forget the “fuck you, Tina” thankyou).

Brittany and Sam were on a trip to go chase unicorns, Santana thought it was stupid so she didn’t want to go with them.

Finn joined the house, yay! Well, not everyone was happy since Santana was still being bitter to him. Finn didn’t care, he just let Tina show him the house and explain what happened to him. Tina also “stole” puck’s toast bread.

Later that day, Puck is starving and asks Tina to go make him toasts since Tina ate his. (The iconic moment) Puck asked Tina what he would do without her, she just shouted from downstairs: STARVE!!!

Now Puck needed money, so he went for Santana. She said she wasn’t gonna help him because last time he said he needed money he ended up in juvie. Blaine asked them what was going on and Puck told blaine to ask Santana what had crawled up her ass and died. He did ask this and Santana just answered “I would say the same that crawled up yours last night but that would be Kurt’s dick, so...” she said.

Blaine asked “yeah, but what crawled up yours?” And Santana just answered “Sam’s dick, of course, who else’s would it be?” And Blaine said the most truthful thing ever: he said it was hard to know because everyone sleeps with everyone in that house.

And that’s true. Blaine slept with Kurt and had a threesome with Brittany, who also slept with Sam and Puck and Quinn. Quinn slept with Hendrix, hooked up with Mercedes and had a threesome with Hendrix and Tina. Tina had the threesome and also slept with Puck and had a threesome with Katie and Santana. Santana had the threesome with Katie and Tina and also slept with Sam (obviously) had a threesome with Rachel and Puck, got eaten out by Brittany and had a threesome with Sam and Mercedes; Mercedes also slept with Hendrix.... well, it’s confusing, for sure, but they know just how to work things out and nothing is weird and everybody knows who slept with who.

Puck, Blaine and Santana settled on Robbing a jewelry after discussing if they should rob the jewelry or consider prostitution. They went for the jewelry. Tina and Kurt already said they’re down to bail them out of jail when they get arrested. Now Blue is also joining Plaintana in the robbery.

Tina was fully convinced that Santana and Sam were making a video call and that Santana was about to masturbate so she, Marley and Rachel left the house to go get ice cream because they “didn’t wanna hear it”. In the middle of it, Santana got mad and when Quinn asked her if she wanted something Santana said “want what? Want you to leave me alone? Yes, yes I do” and Quinn cried and ran away.

Santana went after Quinn and said she was sorry like, a thousand times, and said she wasn’t mad at Quinn, but at the other girls. Quinn said she wasn’t so upset about what Santana said, but about everything else and said she didn’t feel like she was enough.

Quinn went to the drugstore and when she came back, she locked herself on the bathroom and a few moments later they heard her screaming. Santana and Marley started banging on the locked door and a few moments later Quinn leaves with her new hair cut. With pink and short hair. Skank Quinn is back.

Quinn picked up a fight with Tina and Santana, but Neo, being Quinn’s best friend, helped Quinn. The four of them were arguing when Santana started dropping some pretty awful comments towards Neo. Quinn left Neo alone with Tina and Santana and started driving to somewhere.

Quinn said she thought that Santana, out of all people, would understand. But Santana didn’t. She just made snarky bitchy comments.

After the fight, Santana locked herself in her room. Tina went to hers and Neo was still feeling bad because of her comments. He locked himself in the bathroom and tried to kill himself. Tina heard the screams and whimpers and tried to open the door, no success. She kept trying and got desperate. She opened the door and saw Neo’s body.

Neo were took to an ambulance and is currently on the hospital. Mercedes made Santana go to the hospital with her and Tina, and Santana, reluctantly, went there. Today, when everyone woke up, tension filled the house.

Santana thinks it’s her fault and it’s isolating herself from people and being nice. Calling them by their actual names and saying nice things. Blaine is concerned with her. Tina is explaining to Kurt what happened. Quinn is feeling bad for leaving Neo and Rachel is not helping and is just blaming Santana.

Santana put one of Sam’s big hoodies and left the house since she needed to clear her mind. Blaine finds her and she and Blaine go to a karaoke diner and start singing ‘Train Wreck’ by James Arthur together (omg this song’s amazing). Kurt, Quinn and Tina go to the same place and they can all see how hurt Santana actually was. After that she just jumps out of the stage so no one would see her crying and she leaves. She asks Blaine why he is even worried about her when she never did anything good to anyone, leaves Sam’s hoodie with him and then walks away.

Mercedes was with Neo in the hospital and when he woke up she texted everyone to tell he was better. Marley and Hendrix went to see him and Tina and Blaine went to look for Santana. Neo admitted he likes Quinn, even though Quinn said to Rachel earlier that: “(...)and I can’t believe that out of all people I fell in love with you!” After Rachel said that it should have been Santana instead of Neo.

Now Santana is back in the house alone with Rachel, who said she didn’t know Santana could even regret anything since last time she checked Santana was heartless. Santana said “suck my dick, Rachel” but didn’t make any rant. She just feels like she can’t anymore. Rachel said something about not being a slut like Santana and all and Santana started to tell but quickly stopped before agreeing with Rachel and leaving the room. She still can’t be bitchy or make rants at people.

Quinn is probably gay, or bi. But now Neo has a crush on her and he only told Marley about that.

Okay, it’s been 2 weeks since I last updated this oh God... sorry, I can’t quite remember everything but I will try explain in topics what happened.

Blaine and Kurt finally gave up and started dating, but now they just jump at each other at any chance they get. Quinn and Marley are like that, to be honest. But they were a little more complicated since days ago Marley found out Quinn slept with this random girl at a bar and Quinn is also still married to Brittany, even if they have a “open marriage” as they self proclaimed. Tina and Puck were gonna leave to have dinner (aka a date) but ended up having shower sex instead when Tina asked him if he wanted to shower with her when he was leaving to let her get herself ready to their dinner. Now we don’t know what’s going on with them.

Quinn said Santana had to be bitchy again and that she being nice was starting to get weird and concerning. Quinn even slapped Santana in the face to see if Santana would make one of her usual rants but she didn’t. Santana just told Quinn to “please stop, because it’s not gonna be pretty if you keep pushing me”

Sam and Brittany are back from their trip and Tina just said it was good that Santana and Sam wouldn’t have to have online sex anymore.

They all decided to go to a sex shop, well... that’s self explanatory, isn’t it? and In the end, Mercedes and Santana ended up hooking up again. Same for Quinn and Marley. (This gc is getting pure filthy I swear..... but I ALSO SWEAR ITS FUNNY AS FUCK AND WE ARE NOT JUST A BUNCH OF PERVS❤️)

__________

Sophie joined the house! Now she’s sleeping in Quinn and Hendrix room, being the third roommate. The next day Quinn, puck, Kurt and Santana started the day off drinking, everybody was feeling like partying so they all got tequila shots and played spin the bottle.

Sophie kissed Santana, Quinn kissed Sophie, puck kissed Quinn.... also, Brittany convinced Blaine she and puck had made something that let her get as small as an ant. They got small and saw “pucks magic stick” which apparently is “one of the seven wonders” (don’t even ask).

Marley now thinks she’s supergirl (I think it’s the alcohol talking) and Tina was talking about how Loud Santana is during sex because she can hear she and Sam. Also, she said Kurt and Blaine needed to find a way to be les loud, just like Sam and Santana, because she can’t sleep, and she also said the house is becoming a motel. Tina even said she was willing to buy Sam and Santana and Kurt and Blaine ball gags to keep them more quiet.

Also, Santana is back! Apparently Rachel pushed her so far Santana made a rant and how she is back with the rants.

(It’s been a while since I last updated this (again) but I will keep updating)

Mike just joined! He tried making a big entrance, but no one was at the house when he tried kicking the door to be dramatic, so he just gave up.

Santana went to the kitchen and puck followed, they were about to get drunk with Tequila when Mike knocked on the door again, this time he got his big entrance. The three of them were drinking the tequila when Tina joined, she welcomed Mike friendly. A bit too friendly, and made puck a little jealous, but ‘sex is not dating’ as Santana says. They were pretty drunk when Quinn decided to join them, she was also drunk, for no one’s surprise!

They decided to drink more and Santana ended up shouting the lyrics to Valerie while Mike played the song. Sophie got downstairs and a very drunk Tina started dancing with her. Now they found out Puck and Santana have weed they are all gonna get stoned.

What happens next? Well, I don’t know, they don’t know, nobody knows. hopefully we will have all the answers soon, but you know what they say: tomorrow is a mystery, and something we are still gonna write. In this case literally.

(I don’t know if I’ll keep updating this because it’s getting too long and honestly, probably no one even read til the end)

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nikki-writes-stuff · 5 years ago

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Sweet As Sin - Part One

Summary: After losing your job and having to spend all of your savings, you find yourself completely broke as you desperately search for a job. On a whim, you join a website for sugar babies and sugar daddies can meet, and you’re surprised when you immediately make a connection with Captain America, of all people. But as you grow closer to Steve, you start to realize that there may be a dark side to America’s golden boy.

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Steve Rogers x Reader, with eventual Dark!Steve Rogers

Read Part Two here!

After reaching a certain point in life, people generally come to the realization that the old adage of “when it rains, it pours” is true. At least, that was what you were thinking as you walked to your car, cheeks still burning with shame from what had just transpired in the grocery store.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your card was declined. Do you have any other methods of payment?”

The words echoed in your ears as you drove home; of course you didn’t have another method of payment. You hadn’t ever since your job laid you off. You’d been living off of unemployment for a few months now, barely able to afford rent and living off a diet consisting mostly of ramen noodles. What’s more, you’d just had to get your car fixed after someone t-boned you at the intersection across from your house. So now, you didn’t even have any more savings to fall back on. It was even worse than when you’d been in college; back then, there had at least been a goal in mind. Just graduate, you’d told yourself, and then you’ll find a job.

Well, you’d graduated a year ago, and now you were back to where you’d started – broke and desperate.

You slammed the door shut when you entered your apartment, kicking your shoes off before throwing yourself onto the sofa. You lay on your back, looking up at the ceiling as your stomach growled at you.

“Yeah, I’m hungry, too,” you told it. Looks like it was noodles in broth for dinner again, tonight.

Anxiety was constantly clawing at your chest these days, especially now that you were too broke to afford your medication. Later on that evening, you stood over your stove while typing ‘how to make money fast’ into Google. It was a cheap shot, one that you didn’t foresee getting you anywhere, but it was at least something to take your mind off of things while you waited for the water on the stove to heat up.

That was when you saw the add. ‘Finding Arrangements – Where beautiful, successful people find mutually beneficial relationships’ – basically, a website for Sugar Daddies looking for a pretty set of tits to spend money on. You huffed a laugh and scrolled past it, only to return to it a few seconds later.

You chewed on your lip, pondering the link sitting right there on the screen, so engrossed in your thoughts that you jolted when the water started boiling over, sizzling onto the stovetop beneath it. With a curse, you turned down the heat and added the noodles, stirring them in with the seasoning packet as you thought it over. It wouldn’t hurt to check, right? Just a quick glance wouldn’t hurt; if you signed up and didn’t like any of the people you matched with, you could just delete your profile and pretend it never happened.

Your thoughts lingered on the idea as you sat on the couch, still hungry after finishing your meager meal. You’d brought the link up on your laptop, and now you were staring at the site’s homepage. To the right, there was a link to sign up, and to the left, there was a picture of a man in a business suit surrounded by three beautiful women. You gulped, starting to psych yourself out as you stared at the image. But then you closed your eyes and thought about the number in your bank account, and it was enough to motivate you to start typing.

You filled out your personal information and clicked the link the website sent to your email, confirming your new membership. When it came to choose a profile photo, you chose one of yourself from your graduation day. You were standing in your college’s auditorium, wearing a dress made out of gold fabric that was covered with thick black lace; it was your favorite picture of yourself, and you hoped that the dress wasn’t too revealing. It had a high neckline, but it had only come down to about mid-thigh.

You filled out the ‘About Me’ section and then paused when you came to the next question – What are you looking for in a relationship? You thought for a moment, biting your lip and turning over your words before starting to type again.

This is my first time trying out a relationship like this, you wrote. So I would like to find someone who I can trust to guide me through it. In return, I would like to be able to give my (you cringed as you typed the next two words) Sugar Daddy a fulfilling, comfortable relationship in return.

After reviewing your profile, you uploaded it, forcing yourself to sit back from your laptop and breathe. It was out there now; people would see it. Wealthy, presumably powerful people would see it. You closed your computer and hurried to put a movie on, choosing one of your old favorites; it had helped you when you were feeling anxious before.

By the time you finished the movie, you’d mostly calmed down, controlling your nerves until they were just a dull ache in your chest. Before you stood up and went to bed, you checked your phone, eyes bulging when you saw that you already had five replies to your profile.

You opened your notifications, scrolling through the different profiles. Four of them were from men with one of them being from a woman. Your nose wrinkled up when you saw that one of the men were in his 70s, and you quickly deleted his message without even reading it. The next one was in his early 50s, and his profile picture was of him standing in front of a car that looked like it cost more than the entirety of your college tuition. You didn’t delete his message, but you definitely felt dismayed as you skimmed through the rest of them.

You paused, though, when you saw the last one. His profile said that he was 38, making him the youngest of those that had replied to you. His username was Captain_Grant, and his profile only showed his silhouette outlined against a setting sun. The only thing you could see about his features were his defined, slightly-crooked nose and the shadow of a beard against his jawline, but you were more interested in seeing the message he’d sent you.

Good evening, miss. I hope you’re having a nice day. I saw on your profile that you liked to read?

You furrowed your eyebrows, laughing a little. The other ones had pretty much sent you the same thing – “hi”. One of them had had the courtesy of adding a smiley face afterwards, but the fact that this guy had actually taken the time to read your profile made him stand out amongst the rest.

Good evening, you typed back. I do love to read; right now I’m in the middle of a great book.

His reply came only about a minute after you sent your response.

What’s it called?

You typed out the title of the book. After another minute, Captain sent you a picture. You held your breath as you opened the attachment, praying that it wasn’t a dick pic, and you were pleasantly surprised to see a photo of a bookshelf. The book you’d mentioned was resting on it along with a few others by the same author.

I’m a fan of theirs, too, as you can see.

You grinned and got up, taking a quick photo of your own bookshelf and sending it to him. You’d bought it from IKEA years ago, and its thin shelves had started to sag under the weight of all of your books, but you loved it anyways.

You have quite the collection, miss.

You chuckled at how polite he was and sent him a message that he call you by your first name.

‘Miss’ just seems so formal, don’t you think?

I was going more for polite, but I see what you mean. Well, then, you should call me Steve. ‘Captain’ isn’t really formal so much as it’s just weird. …I’ve been told I’m not good at picking out profile names.

You giggled at that; Steve seemed like a dork. But a cute one.

I think your profile name is great, for the record, but I’ll stick with Steve. What made you join this website, Steve?

It took him a few minutes to respond, and you worried for a second that you’d asked something too personal. But as you got ready for bed, you saw that he’d finally responded.

I’m an old fashioned kinda guy, and in the past I’ve been told that I’m a bit too…overbearing in a relationship. But I’ve always believed that a man should take care of the woman he’s with. So a friend of mine suggested this site, and I figured I would try it out. You’re the first girl who I liked enough to send a message to, though.

You smiled at that, feeling warmth bloom in your chest.

What made me different from the rest?

All the other girls on here only talked about what they wanted to get out of a relationship in their profiles. You were the only one who mentioned what she wanted to give.

You felt as if butterflies were flying around your stomach, and your thumbs started typing of their own accord.

Do you think we could meet sometime? Maybe grab a cup of coffee?

I would love to, doll. I’m out of the country right now, but I get back in a week. How about we meet up then? Your profile said you live in Brooklyn; is that right?

It sure is; I’ve lived here ever since I finished college.

You’re a girl after my own heart; I grew up in Brooklyn. There’s a bagel shop that also serves coffee that I highly recommend. We could meet there if you’re up for it.

You didn’t even think before you answered him back.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

________

Over the next three days, you and Steve messaged each other as much as possible. He was so easy to talk to; you’d almost forgotten about the financial element of your relationship. During the day, when he was busy with work, you found yourself missing him. Right around the evening, you would start jumping for your phone any time it buzzed, and your heart would sink with disappointment when it wasn’t Steve.

You were on such a high from meeting Steve that you’d forgotten all about the things that were causing you anxiety. That was, until your landlord sent you an email talking about how rent was going to be raised an extra $50 each month. The news had washed over you like a bucket of iced water, sending you into the worst panic attack you’d had since college.

You’d spent the next few hours either pacing across your living room or crying in bed, curled up as that same feeling of helplessness that had haunted you for the past few months settled over you heavily. You hadn’t even realized that your phone was buzzing. At least, not until the fifth or sixth buzz. Wiping away your tears, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened it up, seeing several missed messages from Steve.

Hey, doll, just got done with work for the day.

How was your day?

You ok, doll? You’re usually around by now.

Are you ok?

I’m sorry for hovering, I’m just worried about you.

You there?

You felt guilt settle over you as you began to type with trembling fingers.

I’m so sorry, Steve. I just had a really rough day; I didn’t even realize that my phone was going off.

His reply was instantaneous.

God, you scared me, doll. Are you alright? What happened?

My landlord raised the rent by an entire $50. Rent is due by the end of the week, and I have no idea how to come up with the money.

You sniffled and waited for him to reply, and when he did you felt you felt your tears subside for a brief moment.

Is that all? That’s why I’m here, hon. Do you have a PayPal?

Steve… Are you sure? This is so much.

You could almost hear his laughter in his next reply.

Doll, I promise that $50 is NOT a lot to me. Besides, that’s part of this whole thing, isn’t it? Me taking care of you?

But I haven’t done anything for you in return…

He waited a few more minutes before responding.

Well… What if you did something for me tonight? Would that make you feel better?

Your felt your heart start to beat faster at his words, wondering what he would have you do.

What do you have in mind? you replied, trying to keep your words neutral.

Give me your phone number and let me call you?

Your breath puffed out at such a simple response, and you sent him your number without a second thought.

A few seconds later, your phone began to came, and unknown number appearing on your screen. You took a deep breath, feeling your heartrate skyrocket once more; you’d only known him for a few days, and yet a simple phone call from him was enough to make you feel breathless.

You fumbled with your phone, accepting the call and hesitantly raising it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, doll. It’s Steve. Although… Well, that was probably obvious, right?”

Your laugh sounded more like a hiccup, and you cringed at the sound, trying to blink away the tears that were still trying to escape.

“Hi, Steve,” was all you could sigh. “It’s…really good to hear your voice.”

And it really was; it was somehow even better than you’d imagined it – not terribly deep, but warm, so warm that you wish you could curl up and get him to read bedtime stories to you.

“Have you been crying?” he asked, a touch of worry working its way into his voice.

“Oh, um… Yeah,” you sighed. “This whole rent thing has really got me anxious.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he replied. “Can you give me your email address?”

You gave it to him, hearing the typing of a keyboard in the background.

“Thanks, doll. Just give me a minute, ok? I’m still trying to get better with my typing skills.”

You chuckled, picturing him typing with his two pointer fingers, but you still didn’t understand what he was asking you to give him a minute with.

“What are you doing, Steve?” you asked.

“Just wait; I’m almost done.”

After a few more seconds of typing, you felt your phone buzz, and you pulled it away to see that it was an email from PayPal. Your eyes went wide as you opened it, audibly gasping when you saw the message waiting for you when you opened your account. You have $250 waiting to be accepted.

“Steve!” You heard his laugh from the other line, and for a second you were caught off guard; you immediately loved the sound more than you’d loved any other laugh you’d ever encountered.

“This is too much!” you cried out. “I only needed $50! Steve, I’m no mathematician, but you gave me two hundred more than that!”

Steve only laughed again.

“I won’t apologize for taking care of my girl,” he said, making your cheeks heat up at the term of endearment. “You deserve it; you’ve had a rough day. Go out and get a massage, or buy something nice for yourself. Do something that’ll relieve some stress.”

Your eyes went half-lidded for a second at the thought of a massage; you couldn’t remember the last massage you’d gotten. But no; you needed to be smart with your money.

“Well… Thank you, Steve,” you sighed. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Every penny is worth getting to hear your voice,” he murmured. “It’s even prettier than I imagined it.”

“Steve…no…”

“No?”

“You gotta stop saying such nice things. It’s bad enough through text; actually hearing you say them is gonna make me spontaneously combust.”

Steve’s laughed rumbled across the receiver once more.

“Well try your best not to. At least not until we meet face-to-face.”

“Tell me about it. I still don’t know what you look like.”

You could tell by his voice that Steve was smiling when he spoke next.

“What do you imagine I look like?”

You grinned and stretched out in bed, your anxiety from before completely melting away.

“Well… You’re probably tall,” you started. “No… You’re definitely tall. I can tell.”

“Really? What gave it away?”

“You just seem like a tall person.” He chuckled at that, but you kept going on. “I could tell from your profile picture that you have a beard, and I bet you keep it trimmed all nice and neat. And… I’m going to guess that you have brown hair.”

“Well, I’ll be back in three days. There’s only one way for you to find out if you’re right.”

“I know. Still planning on the bagel shop at 9 am sharp, right? On Sunday?”

“Absolutely, doll. It’s a date.”

_______

The next day, you were able to pay your rent early, much to your landlord’s delight. After that, you decided that you would treat yourself to some actual groceries. Having a full shopping cart was a novelty to you; usually, you would load up with a basket containing ramen, maybe some chicken, some eggs, and whatever toiletries you needed. But today, you actually put together a meal plan and a list before going shopping.

Later on that day, you were grinning ear to ear as you put your purchases away in your tiny kitchen. There were green things in your fridge again! And they weren’t mold!

You were cooking a late breakfast for yourself when your phone rang, and you let out an excited squeak when you saw who it was.

“Steve!”

“Wow; someone sounds happy today.”

“I just got back from the grocery store,” you told him. “Thanks to a very wonderful, generous person, I was able to get food! Like, fancy food!”

“Fancy food, huh? What kind of fancy food?”

“Um… Well, I got stuff for salads! And I’m going to make a casserole for dinner. And I have some pasta, some beef, some taco stuff-“

“…Baby, that doesn’t really sound like fancy food. It sounds like regular groceries.”

“Well, it’s fancy compared to what I usually eat,” you pointed out.

“And what is that?”

“…Um…Ramen, mostly. Not that I mind! It’s better than nothing. I’ve got really creative with ramen recipes; it’s a skill I learned in college.”

Steve let out an exasperated sigh.

“That’s gonna have to change,” he asserted. “From now on, I’ll take you grocery shopping once a week, and I want you to get food with actual nutrients in it. Understood?”

You grinned as you flipped the omelet in the pan.

“Only if you let me cook for you sometime,” you bargained. You felt your cheeks heat up when he let out a groan.

“God, I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal,” he sighed. “I wish I could come back sooner.”

“You can make it for two more days,” you said. “I believe in you.”

“Well, I’m glad someone does.”

The two of you talked until your breakfast was ready, and for the rest of the day you worked on applying for jobs. You kept the news on your tv at a low volume, but later on, while you were cooking your casserole, you heard something about Moscow that made you perk up; Steve had mentioned that he was in Moscow on his business trip.

You hurried to pull the casserole out of the oven and place it on a cooling rack before jogging into the living room and turning up the volume.

“….in Moscow today. It is reported that the small terrorist organization was eliminated by Captain America, Natasha Romanoff, and a group of American agents with them. Luckily, the attempted bombing was stopped before there could be any casualties.”

You watched as the footage cut to Captain America standing in front of a group of reporters, decked out in his uniform with his signature shield strapped to his back. He shifted on his feet, looking out over the room before starting to speak.

“I’m relieved to inform you that the terrorist threat has been eliminated,” he began, and you frowned at how familiar his voice sounded. If you didn’t know any better, then you would think that it was Steve talking to you, your Steve, but you knew the idea was ridiculous. You smiled at the thought; you’d have to ask him later on if anybody else had noticed the similarity.

“The group was small and disorganized, and we believe that they acted independently of any larger organization,” he continued. “Our men and woman, however, are keeping a close eye on any and all other suspicious activity in this and the surrounding countries. For now, we advise you to rest easy, and-“

You muted the tv once more, heading into the kitchen to grab a plate of food. You sat down on your couch and pulled your phone out, dialing Steve’s number. You frowned when you reached his answering machine, but you left a message anyways.

“Hi, Steve! I just saw something on the news about a terrorist group in Moscow… I guess I just wanted to call and make sure you were okay. Just shoot me a text or give me a call when you’re able to. I’ll talk to you soon!”

After that, you ate your food, reveling in having something on your stomach other than the same old noodles. It was while you were wrapping your casserole to put in in the fridge that Steve called you back, and you rushed to answer the phone.

“Hello!”

“Hi, doll,” Steve sighed.

“You sound so tired.”

“Yeah… I guess I am. It was, uh… A rough day at work. But the good news is that I get to come home a day early. Think we could move our date to tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? You can get here all the way from Moscow tonight?”

“Sure can. I’m on the plane right now.”

“Wow. Talk about company benefits…” Steve chuckled, and you smiled fondly as you closed the fridge. “I worried about you when I heard about the terrorists. Is everything ok? No one you knew got hurt, did they?”

“Nah, we’re fine, doll. But you’re sweet to ask.”

“Well, I saw Captain America talking on the news about it and just wanted to make sure. Hey, have you ever noticed that you sound a lot like him?”

“Uh… You think I sound like Captain America?” Steve seemed flustered, and you grinned as you walked back to your couch.

“Yeah; you guys have practically the same voice,” you grinned. “Crazy coincidence, right? You sound like him; you have the same first name… And did you know that he’s grown a beard since-“

“Hey, doll? The plane is experiencing some turbulence. Would it be ok if I let you go?”

“Oh. Yeah! Sure thing, Steve. But we’re still planning on tomorrow morning?”

“You betcha. I’ll see you at 9, and I’ll text you the address.”

“See you soon!”

With that, he hung up, and a few minutes later you received the text with the address. You sent him back a smiley face before getting ready for bed; you would need to get up early to get ready for your date.

It took you a while to fall asleep that night; your mind wouldn’t shut off. Over and over again, it would play possible scenarios of how meeting Steve might go – about what he would look like, what you two would talk about. Eventually, though, you were able to fall into a peaceful slumber, and even your dreams seemed happy that night.

______

You surveyed yourself in the mirror, looking for any imperfections that needed to be sorted out before you left. You’d somehow wrangled your hair into a nice-looking style, although you were pretty sure you’d killed half of the remaining ozone layer with how much hair spray you’d had to use to keep it that way. You were wearing a red set of leggings with an oversized, cream-colored sweater overtop it; despite the fact that the clothes were old, they still looked good, and you hated the fact that you didn’t have better shoes to complete the ensemble. You pulled on your black high-top Converse, deciding that they were the best looking pair of shoes you had, and you checked yourself out in the mirror one more time before walking out the door.

The bagel shop was only fifteen minutes away from where you lived, but the drive seemed to last for fifteen seconds and fifteen eternities all at once. You tried in vain to calm the frantic beating of your heart, but it was still pounding by the time you pulled up in front of the restaurant. You took a short moment to calm yourself, letting out a deep breath before getting out of your car.

You tried to walk with confidence as you walked into the bagel shop, inhaling the scent of baked bread, cinnamon, and coffee that lay heavy in the air. The walls inside were painted a bright, sky blue, and black-and-white sketches were hanging on the walls. The entire wall behind the display case had been turned into a chalkboard, and the various menu items were written across it in neat cursive font. One of your favorite songs from the 60’s was playing over the radio, and you smiled; you already knew that this place would become one of your regular hang outs.

At the moment, though, your eyes were scanning the shop for Steve. All you knew about him was that he had a beard; that is, if he hadn’t shaved it since taking his profile picture. There were only a few people dotted around the room, and most of them were with someone else. In fact, there were only two people there who were sitting alone. One of them was sitting at a nearby table, and he was a man who looked to be in his late 50’s; you hoped to God that he wasn’t Steve.

The only other person there was sitting at a table in the far corner, and he had his back to you. His hair was blonde and slicked back neatly, and his shoulders were incredibly broad. Letting out a sigh, you started walking towards him, wringing your hands as you grew nearer.

“Steve?” you finally asked when you were close, and you saw him straighten up.

When he turned around to face you, though, your eyes grew wide and your lips parted in surprise. There had to be some mistake; this couldn’t be him.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “I’m here to meet, um…”

Captain America, or rather, Steve gave you a soft, sheepish smile, and he stood up to face you.

“Hey, doll,” he sighed.

“…I can explain.”

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