#AND FORGETTING ONE OF HIS DEAREST FRIENDS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ryozakidesu · 8 months ago

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The Fine Art of Rejection - h.rj

3/4 diary of the heartbreakers

summary ➸ ♡ Huang Renjun, the sweetie of the year, is one hard star to catch. Not as easy as his other friends, he's quite difficult to have. Although he has a fair share of affairs with girls, it is considered to be a rare occurence. But you? Oh boy were you something. You were quite head over heels over him. His friends could never understand, but you were persistent to get the boy. No matter how much he refuses your advances, Its like you found art in rejection. But to what degree can you hold it out?

"I can be everything I want, but fuck, I only wanted to be yours. Even though you couldn't be mine."

GENRE: Unrequited love, Humour, Fluff, Angst, Smut

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Language, Explicit sexual content, Violence, Alcohol Usage, cheerleader!reader, asshole!renjun

AUTHOR's NOTE: This has gone way too angst-y than I planned but hey, i thrive for angst. Longer than what I expected but it's not gonna be a ryo fic if I stuck with the expected wc lmao. also i cried while writing this fic lol

WC: 19k (told ya)

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

Enjoy reading! -ryo

My dearest Renjun,

I hope you had a wonderful day! I heard you have an exam today. Don’t forget to eat on time, okay? Here’s some brownies, I know you love them xoxo

-y/n

You clicked your pen after writing the letter, spraying a bit of your perfume on the note. You put it nicely on top of the box of brownies before putting it on your bag.

You checked the time, and you nod when it says exactly 7am.

“Seriously, a handwritten letter? You’re crazy,” your roommate, Julie, sassed at your small box of sweets.

You tighten your shoe laces, before turning around to get your bag. You smiled at Julie, “It’s a habit,” You hear her scoff, but before she argues again, you are fast on your feet.

As soon as you entered the school premises, you were greeted by some of the freshmen, waving at you. You of course, waved back and gave them a good morning back. It was nice to greet people, even if you don’t know them. You don’t know when a simple greeting could make someone’s day. It sure makes your day better at least.

You’re supposed to go left at the gym because you have practice at 7:30 sharp and you’ve used up all your chances to be late. However, if you run fast enough, you’re sure you’ll get there in time.

“Hey, y/n! Be careful!” One student says as you run through the hallway. You still manage to respond with a smile.

You look at your watch, and you silently curse. 7:15.

Once you made it at the school garden, you hover your eyes at the entire field and sure enough, you see who you’ve been looking for.

There he was. He sat with his three other friends, which you knew of. Usually, it’s only him and Jeno, but this time, there’s Jaemin and Haechan with him at the picnic table. Haechan slumped in the table, Jaemin mindlessly watching something on his phone and Jeno, along with Renjun, seemingly studying for their upcoming exam.

You put on your best smile, and dust off your cheer uniform.

Once you reach their table, you clear your throat. It was Jaemin who granted you attention first, and as soon as he looked at you, his smile beamed brighter than the sun. He’s good at that, a charmer, really. Too bad it doesn’t affect you in any way.

“Renjun, someone’s here for you,” He says through his smile and nudging Renjun.

You hear the boy grunt, and let out an exasperated sigh. Finally, he turns to you, and even if you swore you had a big smile, seeing him made it even bigger.

“Hi, Renjun! Uh,” you waved at him, and then brought the box of brownies out your bag, glad to see it's still in pristine condition. “--I brought brownies.. For you and your friends,”

That’s when Jeno and Haechan, who suddenly woke up from his sleep, looked up at you.

Renjun rubs his forehead, and sighed again. He puts down his pen that he was holding from earlier. “Y/n, I told you, stop making these for me.”

You gulp in nervousness. “Do.. do you not like them?” you can’t help sound dismayed, with the end of your sentence getting quieter.

“I like brownies. I just don’t like when it comes from you. Don’t you get that?”

Honestly, you were expecting this. Renjun was always harsh, however, you like to think he’s just brutally honest. But you would be lying if you say that it doesn’t sting.

“Oh-kay,” Jaemin joins the conversation, attempting to dilute the tension. Your smile falters for a second but you try your best to smile again. Jaemin continues, “Sorry, birdie, he’s just extra grumpy today ‘cause of the big exam later.. I’ll get that,” he grabs the brownies out of your hold.

You whisper a small thank you to Jaemin. “Renjun, if you change your mind, I guess Jaemin has the brownies..” you still tried to sound cheerful.

Renjun, however, didn’t say anything.

“I’ll shove it down his throat if I have to. Go on now, Birdie, I heard you guys have cheer practice at 7:30.” Jaemin answers for him again, sweet as ever.

That piqued your interest. You raised your brows, “How’d you know?”

“I have a friend in your squad. Now, shoo! Don’t wanna be late! Renjun says fighting!” He grabs Renjun’s hand and waved it forcefully, but Renjun just pulls away from his hold.

“Okay. Uh, bye everybody! Bye, Renjun.” Your eyes glanced at him with hope, but came to no avail when he just continued reading his book. Jeno waved a little bit and Haechan just gave you a fake smile. Haechan, for reasons unbeknownst to you, doesn’t seem to like you either. But you don’t dwell on it too much because frankly, you don’t care.

Jaemin smiles, waving at you. You turn your heels and start to run. You have two minutes to get to the gymnasium. It was worth it tho, you like to start your day seeing him.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

After a few hours of practice, you were dismissed due to the classes you have later on the day.

“Why were you late this morning?” Sunghoon, one of your spotters on the squad, asks as you walk to your class.

You didn’t have a chance to answer, when Minnie spoke. “Duh, she did her daily rejection therapy, of course.”

You shook your head and chuckled at her. “It’s not rejection therapy, Minnie.”

“Oh please, Huang Renjun could literally stomp at your feet and you’ll still show up with freshly baked cookies the next day.” Minnie was annoyed more than anything, but you still smile at her. You know she means well.

You chose not to answer because really, what’s there to say? Minnie might sound mean, but she’s just telling the truth.

Huang Renjun has rejected you more times than you can remember. Honestly, you think you’re immune to it now. Sometimes, you find it really interesting that he just won’t budge, at all. He hates your guts, but as long as he doesn’t have a girlfriend, and he doesn’t verbally say to your face that he hates you, technically, there’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing.

Much more women do worse, actually. Renjun’s really popular with women, despite the attitude and sass he possessed. Some girls are intrigued, curious as to how they could get with Renjun. Going further as to literally kneeling in front of him just to sleep with him. Poor Kim Chaeyon.

You’re not at that level of extremities yet, thank god.

Although he was picky, he did kind of have a fair share of girls. Some students call the girls he’s been with the chosen ones, making you laugh. Renjun has a standard, and he likes to abide by it.

Unlike his friends, Renjun can count in his fingers how many girls he was with. And boy, were they special.

Renjun is picky. He’s not someone you can just get together with just because you’re pretty. His standards are sky high, but hey, they don’t call you Birdie for no reason.

“I don’t get why you keep on pursuing Renjun, to be honest. Yeah, I heard he’s hot shit, but come on. You’re Y/n. NCU Cheersquad Captain, Thee Bird, and not to mention, a Mathematics Olympiad runner up. You’re like.. Einstein’s hot little sister.” Minnie didn’t stop, even after class she blabbered about your undying admiration for Renjun, claiming it doesn’t make sense to her.

It doesn’t really matter how many times Minnie likes to remind you that Renjun isn't worth your time, your answer stays the same.

“I just like him. It doesn’t have to make sense to you, Minnie.” You say casually as you bite into your apple.

“Ugh! You’re insufferable,” She says before standing up and stomping her way out. You just laughed at her reaction. Minnie’s easily pissed, and it amuses you.

It’s past five when you finished your day, ready to head back to your apartment. Your routine was consistent, it sometimes just differs depending on your practice and classes. You never really enjoyed going out with your friends, not a party-goer, and most especially, you’re not really amused by other boys, much to your friend’s dismay.

There have been attempts, here and there, of trying to pursue you. You just don’t feel like giving attention to any of them, when you already set your eyes on someone. It feels like a waste of time.

When you enter your dorm, you see Julie, all dressed up and ready to go out. You eye her up and down and give her a smile. “Going on a date?”

“Yeah, uh,” You notice she’s struggling to clasp her bracelet, so you try and help her with it.

“That dress looks cute on you,” you compliment her.

Julie never really dresses up for dates, well, at least you don’t see her getting this dolled up for a date. You have always questioned that, because she’s always out on dates and she looks good in dresses as well. But hey, each to their own.

“Thanks, y/n.” She replies with a forced smile, but you assumed it’s because she’s nervous.

You walk inside further, leaving her in the doorway putting her shoes. “Hey, don’t forget your keys.” You remind her.

“Uhm, I think I won’t need them.” Your smirk got even wider at her response, understanding exactly what she meant.

“You go, girl. Enjoy your date.” You giggled before you entered your room.

You sigh as soon as your back hits the soft mattress, relieved that you’re now in the comfort of your own home. You don’t let your eyes rest for more than three minutes because you have papers to finish tonight and you don’t intend to accidentally pass out earlier than what you’ve planned.

You did your basic night routine, ready to turn on netflix before drowning yourself in papers.

Your last step was to put your phone on Do Not Disturb, but before that, you shoot a text to the one who matters to you the most.

[8:01] to: renjun <3

just got home! i hope u ate some of the brownies from earlier, it’s really good! enjoy your night and see you tomorrow, renjunnie!

xoxo -y/n

[9:05 read]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Just go talk to him, y/n. Get your mind off that Renjun boy.” You roll your eyes at Minnie who nudges you.

You don’t know why people even attempt to ask you out. You’ve made it clear that you only have eyes for Renjun, and the fact that you never went out with anyone should’ve made it obvious. Do you have to write it across your forehead?

Sungchan’s nice. Really tall, not bad with the eyes either, and from what you’ve heard he’s a real sweetheart. Not a bad bone on his body. A perfect man, maybe, but not for you. Nobody really is for you unless it’s... well, you get it.

“Listen, atleast I tried, right?” He snickers, but you can tell it’s unenthusiastic.

“I’m sorry, Sungchan.”

“Should’ve listened to Jeno,” He whispers, one you can’t make out but you didn’t push. He then bids you goodbye, but before leaving, he asks you if you two could be friends.

“Of course, we can be friends, Sungchan.” You’re glad he offered to be one, at least you don’t turn him down in every possible way. There’s still something there.

He smiles at you again and now fully walks away. You also stood up and turned around, but when you do, you see Renjun, on the sidelines talking to Jeno and Yangyang.

Speak of the Angel.

You widen your eyes in great surprise, smiling ear to ear as you see him, hands folded in his chest. Seeing him instantly brightens your mood— even looking like the most intimidating person ever.

You silently run back, putting an extra hop in every step. You stop where Renjun is, and waved at him.

“Good morning,” you smile at him. You always give your best smile towards him, and not that you put an extra effort to, but he just brings it out of you. A magic pull, in some ways.

He takes a deep breath, “Morning,” he muttered, not even sparing you a glance before going back to whatever they were talking about.

You don’t know why, but you still stood there. You’re waiting for something, but you don’t exactly know what it is. Maybe, it’s just an excuse to look at him longer.

“What time is your lunch? Wanna grab lunch later?” You ask and you hear Jeno snorts on his side..

“I’m in the middle of a conversation, do you mind?” Renjun says, again with his usual cold tone towards you. In some twisted way, it made your chest flutter.

“You’re really cute,” you say, making both Jeno and Yangyang laugh. You don’t know what they find so funny. You’re just telling the truth. Renjun’s cute when he gets grumpy. Tho, sometimes you wish it’s not directly at you.

Renjun closes his eyes in frustration and grunts, you can tell there’s another strong statement that’s boiling in his mind. Before he could though, you heard Minnie’s voice from afar.

“Birdie! Practice back on!”

“Oh, gotta go. Bye Renjun!” You say in your most cheerful voice, throwing him a wink before running back to your squad.

You giggle as you run through the field. You got to talk to Renjun!

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Today, you’re opening auditions for the squad, to prepare for the upcoming cheerdance.

Pulling up your phone to track the time, 6:54am.

You carefully place the cupcake on the box, getting rid of your pink mittens and finally, a perfectly tied bow to finish it off.

A glimmer of a smile appears on your face as you admire the box.

Packing it safely, you made your way out of your apartment, looking at your wrist watch, 8:32am.

"Just on time." You whispered to yourself.

"Hi, y/n!" A junior student greeted you as you passed by, which you bowed back. "Hello!"

"Good morning, y/n." You waved back to another student.

Finally, reaching up to the fourth floor, you strutted yourself to the empty hallways until you reached the abandoned elementary library.

"Do Not Entry" It says on the door.

Knocking three times, finally, someone opened.

"Oh, hi, y/n-ie. I'm guessing this is for Renjun?" Jaemin, with his sweet smile, asked as his eyes fixed on the box you were holding.

"Hi, Jaemin. Yeah. Is he here yet?" You tried looking pass Jaemin,into the room, but to no avail, as he was literally blocking everything inside.

"No but I'll make sure he got this, alright?" Jaemin grabbed the lunchbox from you, not missing the opportunity to wink at you.

"Oh. I guess he's late. Okay, Jaemin. Thanks." Disappointed that you didn't get to see your Renjun, you turned around bitterly.

You decided to just get to your first class early. Only a few people was in the room, because its quite early for the class to start. You crossed your arms over the desk and rest your head.

You're sure Renjun's just running late. Biting your lip,

You pulled out your phone, texting Renjun.

[9:01am] to: renjun

hi goodmorning! i brought u a cupcakes today. are u running late? be safe! xoxo -y/n

You didn’t see him the entire day, and even though you tried to focus on other things, your day didn’t seem complete without seeing his face. But you didn’t let it ruin your day, of course. You’re sure tomorrow, you’ll get to see him again.

You hop your way back to your apartment, with your laptop bag on hand. It’s getting chilly, you notice. You thought about what you’ll eat for dinner when you exit the elevator.

You were about to take a step out, when you see someone in front of your apartment, hugging whom you assume is your roommate.

You can’t be mistaken. You’re sure it was Renjun. You can never mistake him for someone else.

Renjun’s hugging Julie, before smiling at her and letting her enter the apartment.

Your lips fall ajar, baffled at what you saw. Your clutch in your bag tightens, and you feel sick. Renjun and Julie? Since when?

You immediately step back into the elevator, pushing the button desperately, just to get it to close. You don’t know if you can look Renjun in the eyes, at least not right now.

When it slowly closes, you still stand there frozen. In a split second, in the tiny gap of the elevator, you see his face. And there, you see the shock on his eyes. But before anything else happens, the elevator closes.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

That night, you slept at Minnie’s apartment. You were lucky that her roommate’s nice enough to let you, although Minnie says that you don’t ever need any permission to sleep over at hers. You smiled at the thought that at least, you have Minnie.

It was rough, to say the least. You weren't a stranger to heartbreak, especially when it comes to Renjun. You’ve literally liked him for so long, and you’ve witnessed him with girls before. This one’s just special because it’s your roommate. It’s Julie, for christ sake.

She witnessed your Renjun shenanigans for months. She would even laugh at you for waking up early just to prepare food for Renjun. God, you sure looked stupid.

Despite Minnie’s disapproval, you still sent a text to Julie, informing her that you wouldn’t be going home tonight. You still apologize for making her wait, if she ever did wait for you. You never received a reply back, but she’s just probably asleep by now.

The next morning was tough. You don’t know if you should still bring snacks to Renjun, maybe you should respect his relationship with Julie. So you didn’t.

You went to the campus half asleep, Minnie offering to buy you a drink from the cafe. You seriously can’t thank her enough.

Sunghoon was the first one to greet you at the gymnasium.

“Hey, captain!” He waves, completely oblivious to your bad mood. However, you still waved back and gave him a smile.

“How many are auditioning?” You ask as you sit in one of the chairs that's laid out.

“Thirty? I don’t know, but I recall seeing your roommate on the list tho? You never told me that your roommate’s interested in Cheerleading?”

You froze. Julie’s auditioning? You might just pull your hair out. You really cannot catch a break, huh?

You scan the paper he held out, and much to your dismay, her name’s listed. Han Julie.

You mentally curse at yourself.

And in some effed’ up timing, you hear a couple of steps coming in the gymnasium. You assumed it was your other teammates, or one of the students that's auditioning, but you were dead wrong.

Sunghoon stood up, looking at your back since you’re seated facing back at the hall.

“Oh? Renjun, Haechan and Jaemin’s here.” He says in a casual tone, you, on the other hand, just wanted the floor to eat you alive. There’s no way this is happening to you right now.

“Can you deal with them for a bit? I have a headache,” You rub your temples to up your acting, Sunghoon obediently nodding and walking towards them.

But before you can even catch a breather, Sunghoon returns.

“They want to talk to the captain, Birdie,” He says carefully, afraid to piss you off. But you can never be pissed off, silly Sunghoon.

You smiled, and stood up. You start walking towards the three men who stands out like a sore thumb, with Haechan’s leather jacket and Jaemin’s baggy ripped jeans. Renjun, still looks like an angel, and in your eyes, he fits wherever he goes.

“Hey, hi. You guys need something?” You ask, in your usual tone. Avoiding looking at Renjun because you know you can’t help but to melt in his stare.

“Hi, birdie. Actually,” Jaemin smiled, grabbing Renjun’s shoulder and pushing him slightly towards you. “--Renjun here, just dragged us here. Apparently, he wants to talk to you!” He wiggles his brows excitedly.

“Oh?” You act surprised, now looking at Renjun because you literally have no choice.

“You want us to give you some space or—” Before Jaemin could even finish, Renjun interrupted him, grabbing at his friend’s forearms, to avoid him leaving.

“No, this’ll be quick,” His tone was cold, nothing new to you.

Haechan, on the other side of him, just looks bored. Honestly, he looks like he just woke up. But when he saw the other cheerleaders walk in, his body jolted. Typical.

“Listen, y/n.. uh,” Renjun clears his throat, “My friend.. Julie is auditioning. I just want to let you know that she’s really good at cheer and I want you to really consider letting her in the team.”

His friend? Oh, you want to throw up. He’s sick. He’s really… ah, he’s really done it now. You didn’t know Renjun could ever ruin your day, but wow.. He just did.

“Wait, what the fuck?” You hear Jaemin curse beside him, Haechan just letting out a laugh. You wanted to burst out in anger and bash his head in concrete, but that’s not very nice.

You decide that you can’t handle this kind of conversation at 9 in the freakin’ morning.

“Renjun, I would love to let her in the team, but she really needs to pass the auditions first. I’m not the only one who decides if a someone gets in. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say anything, but let out a deep sigh. “Alright, I know she’ll pass the audition. Anyways, we’ll watch…”

You nod, not having the energy to keep up with him. You immediately turn your heels and you walk away. Yeah, this will be a long day.

Surprisingly, there’s a lot of people who showed up for the auditions. Apparently, some had an info that Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno and Renjun are watching, (Jeno showing up half an hour after the other three arrived) and that’s when a wave of students came in.

You didn’t let your sour mood ruin your judgment, so you put on your big girl pants, and watched every audition in full professional mode. You don’t want to sabotage the team, by letting just about anyone join just because you’re not in the mood.

They were good, you have to point out some hopefuls that didn’t fit the criteria, in the nicest way you could. However, Minnie took her role as your ‘anger translator’ seriously.

“Are you sure you know what you were auditioning for?”

“Oh honey, you’re really good! You should really try to be a singer.”

Or sometimes, just cutting off the music mid-performance. Of course, you scolded her for that and let the girl continue, but there’s just no coming back from that.

“Babe, I’m sure you can work on your cartwheels a little bit better. If I’m still here by next year, just call me out and I’ll for sure get you in the team. But for now, you can practice, okay? You can even call me for guidance, okay?” You say softly at Sofia, after her performance. She just nods eagerly, but you can tell she was about to cry.

You really want to go up there and hug her, but you can’t because you’d have to do that with every single one you reject.

This is why you hate auditions.

You were still arranging the papers at your table, anticipating the next person when you heard Minnie curse.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

You whip your head up, seeing Julie walk up on the stage.

As soon as she stood in front, you knew she had knowledge in cheerleading. Her stance says it all.

She started the performance, and even if you want her to be bad, she isn’t. She’s really good, and it annoys you so much. God, why does she have to be good?

The routine she did wasn’t easy either, and she nailed it to the ground. Some of your team was actually impressed, and you can’t lie and say you weren’t. That back handspring was perfect, to say the least.

“You guys know that we judge not only with skills, but with personality and attitude as well, right?” Minnie just sounded eerily like a mean girl, saying it to your team but also loud enough for Julie to hear.

You silently nudged her, earning a whine from Minnie but you looked at Julie instead, giving her a smile.

You don’t know what to say, to be honest. Your cheerleading captain side of you, says that this girl is perfect for the team. But the y/n part of you wants nothing to do with her.

You roam your eyes across the bleachers and like a magnet, your eyes swiftly went to him. Surprisingly, he’s also looking at you. Or at your direction, at least.

His elbows are in his knees, his entire upper body leaning his height on his elbows. He looks to be anticipating your answer, because at the end of the day, what you say goes.

You took one final breath before tapping your pen. You look up at Julie, and finally, giving her a wide smile.

“Welcome to the team.”

A mix of cheers, clapping and a curse from Minnie fills your ears. You look up, back at Renjun, seeing him smiling and clapping his hands as well. You look down, ignoring the ache you’ve got going on in your chest.

You hope you won’t regret this decision. You really hope so.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“That’s fucked up, you know. That’s really fucked up,” Jaemin won’t stop bitching up until they got home to their apartment, and Renjun just wants him to stop.

In his head, there’s nothing wrong with what he did. He tried to help a friend, to get a spot she fully deserved. He just did a favor, but it seems to Jaemin that it means he’s a horrible person.

“She passed the audition, Jaem. I didn’t do anything,” Renjun says, stirring his iced americano in hand.

“Yeah but d’you really need to talk to Birdie about it? Like dude, everybody in this world knows that she’s head over heels for you. Then you get in her face talking trying to get some other chic on her team? That’s messed up!”

“She’s the captain of the cheerleading squad! Who else am I supposed to talk to?” Renjun can’t see where he ‘messed up’.

Sure, he did have a hint that you were affected with his whole situation about Julie, especially when he saw you at the elevator that night. You looked genuinely hurt, but there’s nothing he could do about it.

He told you many times that he wasn’t interested. He doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t just stop seeing other people because of you.

“Man, I say she deserves it.” Haechan joins in the conversation, taking a sip from Renjun’s drink.

Jaemin gives him a disgusted look, “You’re such a hater, Lee Haechan.”

“She deserved to be treated the way Renjun does, especially when she did those things before, right, Renjunnie?” Haechan scoots up into Renjun’s side, leaning his head onto the boy’s shoulder.

“Come on, that was years ago! You can see she clearly regrets it by now,” Jaemin continued to be at your defense, confusing Renjun as to why because he has never seen you two around each other. Jaemin doesn’t know you like he knows you.

“Do you wanna be with her, Jaem?” Jeno joins in and smirks at Jaemin.

“No! Of course not! I won’t do Renjunnie like that!” Jaemin quickly on the defensive state.

“I’m literally right here?” He states, reminding his friends of his presence because they seem to talk about him like he wasn’t in the room.

“What I’m saying is, can’t you just put all those things behind you now? I just feel bad for the girl,”

In Renjun’s head, Jaemin makes a lot of sense. And yeah, Renjun really did tried to forget all of the things that happened in the past.

He tried to leave it all behind and just completely start fresh. Because really, he’s got way better life now. He basically could have the world now if he wanted to.

Wouldn’t it be better if he left all his baggage behind?

Unfortunately, all those are all easier said than done. Considering that everytime he looks at you, he’s just reminded of the fact that you made his life miserable for your own gain.

He relates your smiles to all the tears he had way back when he needed you the most.

For everyone else, you were an angel in disguise. To him, you were the devil he once loved.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

A few years back

Ever since you were ten, you’ve dreamed of being a cheerleader.

The entire saga of Bring It On was your lifeline as a kid, and every part of that movie is engraved in your mind. Every dialogue, every routine and every single pose in that movie is burned in your brain.

Ever since then, you knew you’d be a cheerleader.

Whatever it takes.

It was summer, you remember it vividly, sophomore year when you met Renjun.

Your first meeting didn’t go well, though. You still laugh when you think about it.

It was the first day Renjun moved to your school. The teachers announced a Chinese boy joining the class, and you were excited.

Then here goes a pale and soft looking boy walking into class, with a pair of glasses and a bag that looks heavier than him. You were dumb, of course, assuming that Renjun would only speak strictly Chinese.

So you pulled your phone out, and tried searching Chinese words to impress the boy.

You finally chose one and practiced it over and over, and when you decided you were comfortable enough, you approached him.

“See-sow-jian zai na-lee?”

You tried your best to not sound like an asshole, but you really wanted to strike a conversation with him. He looks at you oddly, blinks a couple of times before he breaks into laughter.

“You’re asking me… where’s the bathroom?”

You were shocked to hear him speak your language fluently. You furrow your brows before smiling at him, as he keeps on laughing. You found it somewhat cute.

And ever since then, you became friends with Renjun.

He was timid, shy and overall an introvert but you liked that about him. You like that he’s not some cringy highschool boy trying to impress you or other girls. He’s just unapologetically him.

“Wait, what homework!?” You panicked as you try to backtrack your classes from yesterday, remembering if you did in fact had homework that you missed out on.

“Geometry, stupid. Here, copy some of mine,” Renjun pulls his notes out, allowing you to completely copy off of him.

You thanked him furiously as you tried to tweak some of the details off his homework, but ended up copying it as it is. Renjun didn’t complain, he finds you cute when you cram.

The class ended and both of you got a perfect score on your homework, and you got Renjun to thank for that.

So the following morning, you begged your mother for a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie, and packed it carefully with a ribbon on top. This was the only thing you could think of giving him, as a thank you.

“D’you like choco-chip cookie?” You ask, as if you’re just asking a random question. You see him furrowing his brows at your sudden question, but smiles otherwise.

“Yes. I love home baked ones,” He answers, still smiling at you.

You take that chance to grab the pink container on your bag and give it to him. “Mom baked those,”

He was speechless at first, looking at the cookies, before looking back at you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. “Wow. Thank you, y/n. This is like… the first time I’ve received a gift like this.”

“Well, buckle up dude. There will be a lot coming from now on.”

You and Renjun became inseparable after that day. Having Renjun by your side swiftly became a norm for you, to a point you’re comfortable in saying that Renjun’s your person. It kind of feels that he was always meant to be with you, and you’re meant to be with him.

You never really found the need to find more friends than him, he just filled that need himself.

The first bump in your friendship happened three months after that day.

Renjun quickly became the talk of the school, and the longer he settled in, students started to notice just how good looking he actually is. He barely wears his glasses now, and he styled his hair differently. But Renjun never seems to realize the attention he was getting from it.

You never thought it would affect the friendship you had, when you yourself have been making efforts to make friends other than him. However, your sole reason was to just be familiar with the school, because you’re planning to audition for cheerleading this semester. Renjun was still at the top of your priority, you still think of him as your best friend.

You were waiting at the library for him, this has been your daily routine since you’ve been friends. At first, you thought you were just early, or maybe there has been a change with his schedule so you just thought he’d be late.

But the library alerting you that they’ll close in five minutes snaps you from that thought.

You got hurt, yes, but not too much where you had to ask him to apologize. Naturally, you just gave him the benefit of a doubt and think that he just maybe forgot. He did apologize the morning after, and you just kind of forgave him after that.

However, when it happened for the second time, that’s when you question if he really just forgot or he just never really wanted to hang out with you anymore.

It sucks, sure, and you wish you didn’t attach yourself to him as much as you did, but you were never a confrontational person so again, you just let it happen. This time, you don’t make an effort in hanging out with him, and actually try to avoid him.

On the evil part of your brain, you thought that maybe, you were just a stepping stone for him to climb up the status quo, and now that he was popular, he doesn’t find any real use to be your friend anymore.

You hate to think about that, because the guilt of even thinking bad about someone as nice as Renjun eats you up inside.

You focused on your own, starting to work on your goals solely and completely stopped hanging out with him. It seems like he has found a new friend circle, and you assumed that’s just how it ends.

You sat by yourself in the cafeteria, planning to just ditch lunch for today. You look like a complete loser, and you don’t want to spend more time wallowing in your sorrows alone. Before you could stand up and leave, you saw Renjun walking in, with his friends.

He was drastically different than the first time you saw him, and it feels like he’s not the same person. But when he laughs at something his friend says, his smile stays the same, reminding you that he’s still somewhat your Renjun.

You sigh and look away, and on your second attempt at leaving the area, somebody sat across from you.

“Y/n?” He asks, with his brows lifted as if genuinely curious.

“Yeah?” You kind of recognize him, but nothing really pops up in your head.

“Hi, I’m Kim Sunwoo. I’m part of the Cheerleading squad and our captain told me to speak to you.”

You froze on the spot. That’s where you remember him from!

You’ve been watching the cheerleaders at the sidelines recently, in hopes to get hints and further knowledge about the team. You were fascinated, of course, because you feel like you’ve always belonged in that team.

You loved watching them, it’s almost like you’re almost living the life you’ve dreamed of. It feels like you’re on your own Bring It On movie.

Especially when you watch Uchinaga Eri, more known as Giselle, the flyer and the cheer captain.

She’s really great at what she does, and it motivates you to work even more harder to finally be on the same team as her.

“Y/N, right?” Giselle is now standing in front of you, looking at you like she was judging your form. You felt nervous, of course.

“Y-yeah.”

“You sent that audition tape?” She asks again, now looking at you from head to toe.

“Yes,” You say, although nervous, you managed to stand still. She reminds you of a mean girl, but that’s not always a bad thing. She just reeks of confidence, and you aspire to be that someday.

She smirks, looking back at her co-cheerleaders, and walked backwards, giving you space.

“Okay, then, y/n—” She clears her throat.

“—Front handspring, step out, back handspring, round off back handspring, step out, full twisting layout.”

Your eyes widen at her order, heart stumping off your chest. You’re wearing denim jeans! What the hell were you thinking!

You take a deep breath, before pulling your bag over your shoulder.

This is the moment that could potentially write your future, y/n.

You shake your hands, letting your body loose before walking back to gain your momentum. That routine is a lot, and you’re gonna need a lot of space.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. You’ve practiced this before. You’re just gonna have to put them all together! It’s easy!

Deep breaths.

Okay.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

You walk out of the stadium overjoyed, gripping the plastic that was given to you— containing your own cheer uniform. You let yourself shriek quietly in excitement.

You made it to the team. Torrence Shipman would be proud.

Over your small celebration by yourself, you hear somebody call for your name.

“Y/n.”

You whip your head over to where it came from, standing there with a bouquet of tulips in his hand, is a face you’ve missed dearly.

“Renjun,” you softly say, not registering that he’s now walking up to you.

He hands you the flowers, and you accept them despite your state of confusion as to why he’s approaching you now. Yellow tulips.

“Do— uhm, do you need something?” You feel that darn butterflies fluttering in your stomach again, as he stands before you.

“No, no. Uhm, I don’t— ah, shit. Okay,” He inhales, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I haven’t hung out with you recently and If you ever felt that I abandoned you, I’m sorry. I was just really scared—“

“I got in,” you say to him, smiling ear to ear.

“—because I was a cow– what?”

“I got in the cheerleading team!” You yell excitedly, opening your arms to hug him tight. You didn’t care, you’re just so happy right now. What made it better is him, being here.

It takes him a full second to hug you back, burying his face on your neck. “I’m so proud of you.”

And with that, you felt like you won twice today.

You got a spot on the squad, and you got your Renjun back.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Today

It has been a few weeks after the auditions, and it’s safe to say that you’re not feeling well.

Back-to-back exams, training the new members of the squad and working on side projects for school credit has been killing you these days.

Being a Cheer captain is a heavy weight to carry. You need to succeed in both cheerleading and academics, and the responsibilities sometimes get overwhelming. You never once complained tho, because you wanted this. You needed this.

Cheer is the only thing that made your life make sense. And well.. Renjun too, of course. So there will be times like this. But you’ll endure it, as you should.

Not to mention the emotional torture of having to see Renjun and Julie all the time, thanks to Julie inviting him over everytime she’s got a chance.

Just like tonight. You were exhausted from all the school activities and you just want the comfort of your bed. So when you finally enter your apartment, to your dismay, you see Haechan, Jaemin, Renjun and Julie snuggled up in the couch of your apartment, watching some movie you didn’t care to look.

Your body is sore, and so is your brain. If you have a choice, you’d take a vacation to anywhere else than your apartment right now.

And although you already accepted the fact that Renjun and Julie has got something going on between them, it’s still a stab in your chest everytime you see them together.

“Hey, uh, Birdie, I invited them over for a movie night.. I just thought you’d be over at Minnie’s. I’m sure you don’t mind, right?”

You smile at them. “Oh, no. Enjoy your movie. I’m a bit tired so.. I’ll just head in.” You say, not exactly welcoming as you want to be, but you just can’t be energetic as you usually are tonight.

You see Jaemin waving at you, Haechan not acknowledging your presence as always, and Renjun sparing you half a second glance before focusing back on the movie.

You head straight to the kitchen, hoping to see anything that could fill your stomach. You just need to eat and then pass out for the night. You can’t find time to mend your broken heart, when your entire body feels like convulsing the next minute.

“It’s been two weeks since the last brownie. Finally got tired, huh?”

You look back at whoever’s speaking, and to your unpleasant surprise, it’s just Haechan walking over the kitchen.

“I just got busy, Haechan.” You say, managing to smile at him.

“You and your damn cheerful attitude. Still gonna pretend like you’re the perfect little birdie?” Even tho his voice was quiet, his tone still pierced through you.

“I’m not quite sure how I should respond to that,”

“Of course you don’t. You’re always nice. Whoever that bitch that fucked my friend over years ago is long gone, right?” His smirk splattered all over his face makes your eye twitch.

God, you know hate is a strong word to describe an emotion. You’re not one to hate on anybody. But you give yourself a pass, because you just maybe hate Lee Haechan right now.

“Haechan, please. I just want to rest.” You say, closing your eyes frustratedly.

“Sure. And just so you know, he’s very happy with Julie right now. She treats him better than you— fuck it, she cheers better than you too.”

He just had to hit you where it hurts the most, doesn’t he?

You wanted to curse at him, real bad. You wanted to yell, scream at him for pete’s sake. Your chest is heaving with animosity, to the point where you want to cry. But you kept your composure, at least until you weren’t in the safety of your own room.

“I understand Renjun is your friend, and you want to protect him. And I also do understand that you don’t know everything that went down between me and him so I’ll just try and ignore everything you say to me. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going to bed.”

You left Haechan in the kitchen, the growling of your stomach long forgotten. You don’t think you could still have an appetite after that.

The hunger you feel was overpowered by the tears you want to let out.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

You’re awoken by pounding in your head, nose stuffed and difficulty breathing. You were convulsing. You had a hunch that you’re having a fever before you even went to bed— but chose to ignore it and just sleep on it.

Which you know to be a bad decision now that you’re drowning in your own sweat and tears.

You needed something. Advil— whatever the fuck is available to you. You need to get up.

Dragging your feet and standing up from your bed, you immediately feel like you’re going to faint. This might be the worst fever you’ve gotten so far.

You get your phone to call Minnie, she’s only in the next building. You see that it’s not even 3 hours when you went to bed. There’s clattering sounds outside your room and you’re sure they’re still out there.

Minnie didn’t pick up, meaning you’d have to fend for yourself.

You close your eyes in frustration, even your eyelids burns.

Shit, you have practice tomorrow.

You grab your oversized hoodie and ultimately decided to just go out in the kitchen, and find the medicine kit. There’s one out there, you knew it for sure because you were the one who put it there.

You really don’t want to look like a sick girl out there, so you just buried yourself with the hoodie.

You make your way to the kitchen, and to some poop luck, they’re all there in the counter enjoying two pizza boxes. You practically salivate over the sight, but there’s no way you’d ask for some.

They all turn their heads at you, each having an expression you can’t read.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jaemin’s the only one who sounded concerned. You shake your head and smiled at him.

“I’m good. Just—” cough. “–need to get something.”

You see Renjun looking over at you with his brows furrowed, following your figure as you move around the counter. The medicine cabinet is exactly where he was standing, so you just muttered a weak ‘excuse me’.

“You don’t look good.” He says as soon as you stand next to him. You didn’t respond, but you just rummaged through the cabinet just to find anything.

You were stunned when you felt his hands over at yours, looking up at him with your confused eyes.

“You’re fucking burning up, y/n.”

He pulls your hood down, and then proceeds to put the backside of his hand on your forehead, checking your temperature. You were baffled, at his sudden concern but you don’t dwell on it, you physically think of anything but the raging headache you’re suffering from.

You gently swat his hands away, “I’m really okay… I just– Julie, where’s the Tylenol?”

She looks at you, as if you were interrupting something. “Don’t you keep them in your room? You didn’t have to come out,”

You shake your head and you almost respond, before Renjun cuts you off.

“You should lay down, I’ll call someone,” He says strictly.

“What? Dude, she says she’s fine. She’ll live!” Haechan interjects, but Jaemin hits him on his shoulder.

“She’s literally dying, Haechan. Are you fucking blind?” Jaemin.

Haechan rolls his eyes, whispering something about ‘attention’ and Julie looking at him with a smirk.

You didn’t have the energy to be offended or anything, and you’re almost sure the world’s spinning.

Before you know it, you heard Renjun curse and that’s when your vision turns absolutely pitch black.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Probably just over fatigue, just a little bit of rest and she should be okay.”

Renjun rubs his temple as he sighed a thank you to Nurse Suh through the phone.

“I told you, she’s just really over dramatic sometimes,” Julie says, in a comforting way, massaging Renjun’s shoulder. He was sitting in a single chair beside the couch, where you were laying on.

He bit his lip, looking over at your figure sleeping soundly. He doesn’t even know why he’s still here, Jaemin and Haechan already left half an hour ago.

“Why’re you even so worried, Renjunnie?” Julie chuckles.

“She literally fainted in front of us. Why aren’t you worried? You’re her roommate,”

Julie looks to the side, straightening up. “Yeah, but we were never close,” Renjun frowned at her response, but still shrugged it off.

Honestly speaking, Renjun really did kind of snapped the moment you fainted. He was scared to death, he knew you weren’t feeling good the moment you entered the kitchen. And when you passed out, he felt the air snatched from his lungs.

He panicked, he admits. And he hates it so much, the way he acted. He wasn’t supposed to care. But what can he do when you literally faint in front of him? Every decent human being would do what he did.

Except maybe the part where he woke up a school nurse in the middle of the night in panic and sat beside you for three hours trying to monitor your temperature waiting for you to wake up.

When your temperature finally seemed to had gone down, that’s when he decided to go home. And on the walk back to his car, he silently drove back to his apartment, simmering on his own thoughts, disappointed in himself.

“I hate her so much.” He says to himself, more so convincing himself. Even his body seemed to detect his lies, every word burns in his tongue.

Among the texts you sent him, he finally texts you first.

[12:37 am] renjun: take a break.

Why can’t he just.. let you be? Why do you affect him this much? Still, after all this time?

He blames you. He blames your consistency. He blames your overconfidence, every time you look at him. He blames you for smiling at him every chance you get. He blames those stupid fucking cookies you give him everyday. He blames your entire personality, making him melt in a puddle every single time. And more importantly, he blames you for acting like you’ve never done anything wrong.

You make him feel like everything that happened in the past was a mere imagination. Like the pain he felt was a pigment of his own mind. Because no normal person would act the way you do if they’re aware of the damage they did to another person.

However, what kills him the most is the way he still wants to hold your stupid hand and kiss you in your stupid lips. He would never admit it, even to the devil himself, that after all that’s said and done, he’d still adore you with your hands around his neck.

“I told her to take a fucking break. What in the hell is she doing?!” He muttered to himself when he saw you doing stretches on the matted floor of the gymnasium. He had gone down there in disguise of visiting Julie, but in reality, he just wanted to check if your stubborn self didn’t listen to him.

“Chill out.” He hears Haechan on his side. Haechan tagged along with him, as always, under the excuse of wanting to see Jeno practice. Who’s he kidding? He’s here to check out the cheerleaders.

Jaemin was on his side too, having no classes to attend and not much better to do, he just went along.

“You’re so sweet, that’s for me?” Julie’s high pitched voice slashed through his ears, and that’s the only reason he even saw her in the first place. He caught himself staring at you and he immediately brought all his attention to Julie.

“Uh, yeah.” He lied, giving Julie the gatorade that was supposed to be for you, but he felt stupid giving it out to you. It’s embarrassing.

He watched at the sidelines, along with his two friends. His eyes were laser focused on you, and when you suddenly slipped during one of your stunts, his whole body flinched like a reflex.

“At least try to not be so obvious, Injunnie.” Jaemin laughed beside him.

“Shut up, dude. I just had a few extra cups of coffee today.” Even he, himself, cringed at his stupid excuse.

“I thought we hate her, dude? Come on, stand the fuck up! She’s playing you dude. I hate girls like that, acting all perfect and cheery when she literally fucked you over before.” Haechan complained, following it with a huff on his side.

“I still don’t like her, at all, okay? I’m here for Julie, and no one else.”

“Sure, Injunnie.” Jaemin folds his arms on his chest, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

“Say it with me, Injun. We hate Birdie!” Haechan says with two clenched fists moving simultaneously up and down.

“You know what, Haechan, with the way you’re bitching all the time, why don’t you wear the cheer uniform and pompoms?” Jaemin snickers, earning a hit from Haechan.

“Fuck you,” Haechan spits.

“Sorry, honey, but I don’t swing that way. And even if I do, you wouldn’t even reach the list.” Jaemin and Haechan continued to bicker, with Renjun in between.

He’s still deep in his own thoughts, remembering that he shouldn’t even look at you right now. He has Julie, and that’s what he should be focusing on. Not you.

But when he invited Julie back to his place, and he found your lingering eyes amidst the crowd, with a hint of pain splattered on your pretty face, he almost wanted to push Julie off of him and run to you.

And at that moment, he curses at himself.

He cares.

He still cares.

He will always care.

And that’s his fucking problem.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“The game’s in two weeks, and you all should’ve nailed the routine by now. What is going on here?”

Coach Evie goes on rampage with the squad, most of the blame pointed at you.

“Y/n, I will only say this once. You’ve been chosen as the captain of this squad for a reason. Don’t make me doubt you.”

This was the first time you felt upset. Not because of the rage that was poured onto you, but because you knew Coach Evie was right. You have not been giving your all these past few days.

There’s something wrong with you. Emotionally and physically.

Ever since the incident that happened last practice, you find it hard to do all the routines because of your left knee. You didn’t want to think about it, hoping it would just go away.

It never did.

Emotionally, you felt horrible as well. Renjun was still with Julie, and from what you can see, they look like they’ll be together for a while. It hurts, yes, but there’s not much you can do about it. It’s never your forte to force yourself onto a man that’s spoken for.

So you decided to take a break. Maybe a few days without practice will do you and the squad good. You focused on your studies, your classes and other stuff.

That’s why you found yourself in the middle of a random basketball player’s party Thursday night. You came with Minnie, and in typical Minnie fashion, she disappeared with a random stranger within twenty minutes into the party.

This wasn’t what’s on your mind at all when you say that you needed a break. But Minnie was persistent, saying everybody has been waiting for you to finally show up with one of these parties. Because again, this wasn’t your scene at all.

She basically guilt tripped you into attending.

“Oh, no, I don’t like alcohol.” You politely refused, for the nth time this night. Even though some were absolutely drunk and stubborn to accept rejection, you still politely responded to every single one of them.

“Shit, Birdie’s here!” You hear someone yell, and it turns out it was Sungchan, standing tall on the other side of the room pointing at where you were.

A small commotion breaks out, some even gasps at seeing you. You didn’t expect it to be this big of a deal, you didn’t know these people at all.

After Sungchan’s announcement of your attendance, people started swarming you. You didn’t want to say it because it sounds so cringe in your head, but you were as if a celebrity attended a random student’s party. It was odd.

“Hi Bird,” You flinched a bit when somebody suddenly pressed on your side, a strong smell of weed filling up your nostrils.

“Uh, hello.” You smile a little, taking a step away from the stranger. He smirks at you, biting his lip as he looks you up and down.

You press your cup of orange juice in your mouth as you look back at him.

“Fancy seeing you here,”

You furrow your eyes trying to remember him. You don’t want to be rude and disrespectful so you did try your best but you just can’t remember.

“I’m Eric, y’know.. basketball team?” He says to spark familiarity in your head and it sure did. That’s where you knew him from!

“Yeah! Yeah that’s right!” You sounded so proud of remembering him now that you‘re sure you looked stupid.

He laughs– a bit too much actually before stepping again in your space. You didn’t know what to do, because you don’t want to confront him causing unnecessary drama. There’s too many people in here and the last thing you want to do is to bring attention to yourself.

You silently prayed that Minnie finishes up quickly. You don’t know how to handle this kind of stuff.

“Wanna go somewhere quiet? Some privacy—”

“Really, dude?”

You prayed up above, but the devil spawned from down below. It was Haechan who showed up.

Eric rolled his eyes and looked at Haechan, muttering ‘whatever’ before leaving.

You finally take a breather, and close your eyes in relief. Even tho you think Haechan is a pain in your butt, his interference just saved you. You have to be grateful with that.

“Thanks.” You say sincerely.

“I didn’t do anything. What, you got tired of chasing Renjun’s tail and now you’re trying other options?” And there he goes again. As soon as you give him the benefit of a doubt, he goes right back in with his horrible remarks.

“I’m tired of this,” You say, wearing down your guard and putting your drink down on the counter.

“Finally! What a fucking relief. We also got tired of your pathetic ass running around my friend—“

“What did Renjun tell you to hate me like this, Haechan?”

He falls silent. Suddenly not knowing what to say, completely perplexed at your sudden change of tone.

“You don’t know what happened, Haechan. And all this time I’m trying to understand all your hatred towards me because I know you’ve been told one side of the story. And I know I was in the wrong—”

“Y/n.”

Your words hang in the air, swiftly looking over your shoulder seeing Renjun standing with his arms crossed along his chest, leaning his body on the counter.

Cheeks flushed, eyes droopy. He’s intoxicated.

“Renjun,” you whisper upon looking at him.

“Haechan, please leave.” Renjun slurred a bit in his words, but strict enough for Haechan to take it seriously.

“But she—“

“Leave.”

Haechan huffs, giving you one last glare before walking away.

You wipe away any tear that might’ve escaped your eyes, before gaining back your composure. You stand there before Renjun, not knowing what to say next. Should you leave? Should you stay?

“Your oven broke or something?”

His question caught you off guard. That’s definitely not what you’re expecting him to say. You’re confused, really, really confused.

“What?” You say almost breathless.

He smirks, letting his head fall backwards, eyes closed as he whispers something to himself, one you can’t quite understand.

“It’s been weeks, no cookies, no brownies or any bullshit you used to give me. What, you give up now, Birdie?”

The way your nickname falls off his lips so smoothly makes your heart thump in excitement. This is the first time he acknowledged you by the way everybody calls you. It sparked a light in your chest that maybe, just maybe, this is a step.

“N-no, I-I’m just.. respecting your relationship with my roommate.” You don’t even know why you had to mention it. You could’ve just lied and told him you were busy, but the atmosphere of being in a party fed your courage to be reckless.

“Relation— bullshit. Me and Julie aren’t together, at least yet.”

There he goes. He brings you up just to tear you down. It’s an endless roller coaster with him, but he would always be a ride you won’t ever regret.

“I thought you don’t like them,”

“I don’t. I like the fact that you’re trying so hard.”

“I don’t understand Renjun. What are you— do you want me to keep running after you?” You state, extremely nervous about what he’d say next. Every breath you take was calculated, every second mattered.

You don’t even know why you’re having this conversation with him when he’s clearly drunk. However, there could be no other opportunity for him to give you attention other than this.

“I don’t want you to do anything. I don’t want you, period. It’s just… why the fuck do you give up on me so easily?” His disencourage tone was evident, a slight hoarse in his throat made it obvious. He’s drunk. He doesn’t mean it.

“You’re with Jul—“

“I’m not— fuck!” He sounds like he’s running out of patience, gripping the edge of the counter as if to hold himself back.

“I’m asking you one more time, Renjun. Do you want me to keep trying? Do you want me to keep chasing you?”

This time, he looks at you with an intense gaze, saying the words that won’t come out of his lips, with a hint of resentment and despair. You know him too well.

You bite your lip as you try to hold back the tears threatening to escape again. “Because I will, Renjun. Just tell me the words.”

If anyone could hear you right now, they’d be horrified at how desperate you sound. You, the cheerleading captain, down so bad for a man to the point of begging to let you chase him desperately. You’re so ridiculous that it’s not even funny anymore.

Not that you would care. When it comes to Renjun, you’d do worse.

“Go home.” He spat, turning around just before your eyes started letting go of the tears you’ve been dangerously holding on to.

A dagger through the heart, but you are to blame. You're willing the blade through your own heart.

And you won’t have it any other way.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Ever since that party, you’ve discovered new courage— much like before.

You went back to baking sweets for Renjun, approaching him any chance you get, and smiling at him at all times. It’s like you were motivated to do things for him again.

Despite the glares Julie consistently gives you, you can’t find it in you to care. Renjun said it himself, they’re not together yet. He was practically saying you’re welcome to do anything you’d like.

Well maybe you assumed that but tomato, tomáto.

“Oh, hi Birdie. Long time no see, huh?” Jaemin’s smile was the first to greet you as you knocked in their hangout place.

“Hi, Jaemin. Renjun there?”

“No, but I’d gladly take that cookie off your hands and give it to him.” He nicely takes the box from you.

“Tell him good morning too.”

Jaemin chuckles and scratches his brow, “Sure thing, sugar.”

You don’t know what he finds funny, because you were serious. But oh well.

You happily walked back to your department, ready to take on one of your classes. A few waves to some students who greets you, stopping for some who attempt a conversation with you.

You remember what Minnie said, you’re always late because you don’t like ignoring people or saying no to a conversation, it doesn't matter who it is.

But you just really don’t like coming across rude. It feels wrong.

You were almost at your class when you stumbled upon Renjun walking in the hallway with his earphones on.

Smiling to yourself, you skip over to his side. All it takes was a soft tap on his shoulder before he takes off his earphones and turns around to look at whoever grabbed his attention.

“Hi, Renjun.” With the sweetest smile you have to offer.

“You need something?” You felt really giddy hearing his usual cold tone, his voice making you flutter.

“I brought you cookies up at your hangout place but you weren’t there. Jaeminnie took it so you can just get it from him. And oh, good morning!”

For a quick second, you see irritation across his eyes. Creasing his brows down at you.

“Since when is he ‘Jaeminnie’?”

Your smile faded, hinting something new at his demeanor. This is new. His tone was something different and the way he looks at you seemed far from what you’re used to.

Is he… no way.

“Since he..” You shook your head, “Nevermind. It’s freshly baked too so it would be good if you eat it as soon as possible. I don’t want you skipping breakfast or any meals—”

“Junnie.”

You snap your head back, only seeing Julie approaching you two. You almost scowl at her presence but you decide it’s not very nice to do. So you just kept the smile you had before and waved at Julie.

“I thought we’ll meet at the cafe?” Renjun asks, the change in the way he talks was prominent.

“I figured we should walk together..” The glance Julie gave you was short lived, obviously trying to question why you’re still here.

And to be honest, you don’t know too. You look pretty stupid standing in a conversation you don’t belong in.

You were about to walk away, when your name got called.

“Y/n!” You turn to see Sungchan, waving at you with a wide smile spread across his face.

“Hey, Sungchan.” You wave back.

He looks at the three of you, but ultimately keeps his focus on you. He seemed to read the room, and when you thought he’d sweep you away, he stood tall.

“Hey, Renjun, Julie. Uh,” he turns to you, “Mr. Hong canceled the class.”

“Oh really? Okay.” You nod, thinking where you should go. You turn to Renjun who’s looking at Sungchan, visibly irritated by the boy’s sudden appearance.

“We should go, Injunnie. The cafe could be crowded by the time we get there.” Julie clings onto his side, tugging him slightly.

“Dream cafe? I heard they’re giving out free croissants! Y/n, we should go with them!” Sungchan, way too enthusiastic as he put his arms around you. You flinch a bit, thinking about Renjun seeing it.

But when you see him and Julie, you opted to just let it be.

“I don’t—“

“Let’s go!” Sungchan pulls you with him, and you hesitantly walk with him. Renjun lets out a scoff, looking to the side before following.

“What are you doing?!” You whisper at Sungchan.

“I’m helping you, silly.” He answers quietly, and you wanted to ask for an explanation on how this is helping you, but you were greeted by a student walking by.

“What’s your order?” A lovely barista greeted Julie.

“Spanish Latte for me, Injunnie?” Iced Jasmine Tea. You silently whisper to yourself.

“Iced Jasmine Tea.” You smirk to your triumph. Little wins matter!

“Psh, simp.” You heard Sungchan on your side, you immediately elbowed him on his side. How the heck did he hear you?

“Shut up.” You growl at him, but quickly smile as you look ahead.

“How about our pastries?” You look to the side and there’s deliciously looking treats displayed. You would order one yourself, but you’d already eaten your own baked cookies.

“Cheesecake for me and.. you, Injunnie?” You note the additional pitch Julie adds in her voice whenever she talks to Renjun. She sounds cute.

“No thanks. I have cookies back at my place.”

You hitch your breath. Is he.. Is he talking about your cookies? The one you baked for him? Widening your eyes, you look at him in disbelief. Did he just acknowledge your cookies? Oh my god!

“Hi Birdie!” Your trance was cut-off by the barista’s enthusiastic approach, even waving excitedly at you.

“Jesus christ, Even outside the campus people know you?!” Sungchan asks in astonishment.

“Of course! I love her, she’s like one of the reasons I’m trying out cheerleading next year. That routine you did last summer was so perfect!” The barista gushed on and on, making your cheeks red.

“I’ll have Iced Americano and she’ll have..” Sungchan looked back at you.

“Caramel Macchiato, please.” You say sweetly, and the barista happily put your order in. You were about to pay cash, but before you could even bring out your wallet, a ping on the cashier.

You look back and see Sungchan smiling like an idiot after tapping his phone.

“I got that.” You complain.

“I got it first tho.” Sungchan smirked. You open your mouth to retort back, however, Renjun starts walking away— probably to one of the tables. You quickly follow pursuit.

“Hmm, so big game next week, huh?” Julie was the first to initiate the conversation.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, heard you guys are performing at the game?” Sungchan looked at you.

“Ye–”

“Of course. We’re already almost finished with the routine. Just kind of sucks that we had to take a break for no reason.” Julie says in the most oblivious way, as if she just said something casual.

You blink thrice, processing her words. Didn’t you need to take a break because she didn’t do her job causing you to have knee problems?

“I’m sorry about that,I just really needed to let my knee relax. But I'm alright now.” You still smiled and took a sip off your coffee.

“You hurt your knee?” Renjun’s sudden concern made the three of you look at him, but he didn’t even flinch. He’s still waiting for your response.

“Yeah uh, it’s just the usual… not that big of a deal.” You say, words stumbling upon your throat. You’re not used to him being like this.

“Didn’t I tell you to take a break?”

“I did…that’s why the practice got held back afew. But I’m fine now!” Your tone was cheerful, hopefully to convince him that you’re really doing okay now. You don’t know where this sudden concern about your well being came from but you’re not complaining either.

However, If looks could kill, Julie might’ve committed murder by now.

“She’s doing fine now… she’s Birdie, after all.” The sarcasm laced in her words are strong.

The tension was too much to handle, so you excused yourself.

As soon as you were in the bathroom, you let out a deep breath. You really don’t know how to handle confrontation. When someone’s being obviously rude towards you, you just fold.

There’s something really wrong with you. You can’t seem to be comfortable with defending yourself, or just straight up calling out people for their rude behavior. You’d rather just sit there and take it. You can’t even curse, for christ sake!

“Y/n.” You look at the mirror, only to see Julie entering the bathroom as well.

She looks upset. Like really, really upset.

“Hey Jul—”

“You know that me and Renjun are a thing, right?” You stop whatever you’re doing, and turn around to really face her. Did she have to lie straight to your face?

“According to him though, there’s nothing going on between you two.”

“Come on, you’re supposed to be smart. There’s clearly something there.” She rolls her eyes.

“And unless you and him say it verbatim, there’s nothing wrong here.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Are you hearing yourself? You sound ridiculous. What’s not clicking, y/n? Renjun hates you. He finds you annoying. He probably thinks you’re a desperate bi—”

“Julie, get the fuck out of my face. I’m not gonna say it twice,”

She let out a small gasp. You were shocked as well. You can’t believe that just came out of your mouth. You inhale and close your eyes, exhaling when you look at her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. But if you could just… just leave, please.”

“You’re gonna regret this, Birdie.” You can see that she meant the threat, and you can’t help but to feel anxious. You were about to question it but she walked out before you could do so.

When you go back to the table, Renjun and Julie are long gone. Apparently, Julie went on about feeling sick, and Renjun had to go with her.

“I really don’t get it, y/n. You really like that man? He’s clearly interested in Julie. And not to mention, he treats you like shit.” Sungchan was perplexed, to say the least.

You just gave him an apologetic smile and continued sipping your coffee. You’re tired of convincing people on why you’re into him.

They don’t need to understand. As long as it makes sense to you and Renjun, that’s enough.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Game night.

NCU vs SHU. Two universities that've been butting heads all year. Jeno leads the NCU neocats, whilst Dino leads the SCU ravens. You’re all in for NCU, of course.

The gymnasium was packed. The first game was on your campus, opening its gates for both universities for tonight’s game.

It’s always exciting, the marching band started playing, indicating that the game is about to start.

“Alright, guys! Warm up!” Coach Evie calls. You quickly sit on the grass, stretching your legs, reaching it with your fingertips.

Everybody else was stretching as well. But you can’t help but feel the daggers that've been throwing at you ever since practice.

Julie has been glaring at you. And you can’t help but feel anxious. You pull Minnie to the side.

“Switch main base with me?” You ask nicely.

“That would ruin the routine, Birdie. Why would you want to switch anyways?” She questions, kind of confused at your sudden request.

“I don’t feel secure with some of my support. It’s only for the toss, Minnie.” You didn’t want to say Julie’s name, careful not to single her out. But you also feel bad pertaining to all your main bases when they didn’t do anything at all.

“Oh, is it that bitch Julie? What happened? You want me to beat the lights out of her? Because I will—”

“You know what, nevermind. I hate that you resort to violence for anything, Minnie. That’s not very nice.”

Maybe you’re just paranoid. Julie won’t intentionally ruin your routine. She won’t.

Minnie kissed her teeth, putting her hands on her hips. “I know that you know switching main bases last minute is a horrible idea. You’re the captain, for christ sake. So that means one thing. Julie said something that would make you want to switch. I will keep an eye on her, don’t worry. If she tries shit, I will fuck her up, okay? Now go, captain. We’re about to start.” Minnie hugged you tight, stepping away after just to fix your bow.

You’re really glad you have Minnie. You wouldn’t know what to do without her.

You glance around the bleachers, finding someone that would definitely soothe your overthinking brain.

And there he was, in the midst of the busy crowd, looking graceful as always as he sat in between Haechan and Jaemin. It’s like seeing him made you calm down. The effect of his presence made you relax.

And as soon as he connects his sight to yours, he sighs. You thought he’d just look away, but he smiled. Mouthing the words, ‘Goodluck, Birdie’

You felt your chest burst, instantly nodding at him. You didn’t even think about it when you whispered the words you have always wanted to say.

‘I love you’

And then he visibly froze. But before he could react, Coach Evie called you.

You didn’t have a choice but to bring your attention back to the squad.

“Birdie, lead the squad. Alright, everybody. Finish the routine safely and perfectly. This is just the beginning. The real competition is the next game, the National Cheerleading Competition executives will be here as judges— they will pick a winner between you and Scarlet Heart. But that doesn’t mean y’all can slack on this one, alright?” Coach Evie really needs to work on her pep talk.

You sigh, shaking your entire body to loosen up. You were about to go into position when you noticed the entire squad looking at you.

“Whatchu wanna say, captain?” Minnie smiles at you, and you realize they’re waiting for you to say something.

“Oh, right, uh–” You clear your throat, “Cheer like it's your last?” You were unsure, and so as everybody, but Minnie, being the ever sweetheart that she is, she clapped and cheered.

As the announcer yelled for the NCU Squad, the familiar feeling rushed through your body. The adrenaline starts to creep in and you get high in the feeling. Everytime you perform, you get the chills that you have always craved. Like this was your calling. Like this has always been what you’re meant to do.

The music started, and you swore you had nothing on your mind. Your body moves on its own and it somehow perfect every single step. It was more of a reflex by this point, every position, every beat tatted in your brain.

But then there comes the part where you get tossed in the air. And although you memorized everything in the back of your head, this particular moment was extremely dangerous. You get tossed almost nine feet up in the air, and everything goes once it’s executed. So it’s natural to get nervous, however something’s not right.

You don’t have time to figure it out, the crowd already hyping you up. They know the climax of the routine, and that’s when the air lifts are performed. And you’re usually the person who gets thrown– so they know when it’s your turn.

“Birdie, Birdie, Birdie!”

You take a deep inhale, before starting to climb up on a couple of bases.You glance at the bleachers, finding your courage from one person but he isn’t where he’s at earlier. You didn’t have time to think about it, and on two counts, the bases started to gain momentum. And just right before you get thrown, you look at a pair of eyes that made your blood run cold.

The rage behind Julie’s eyes was evident. You performed the pose in the air, executed it perfectly, but when you’re about to land, everyone went silent.

Julie stepped back from her spot, causing you to land on your injured knee immediately the pain made you lose your balance.

A sharp, stabbing sensation shot through your leg. A searing pain lanced through your knee, buckling your leg. You hold it in place as you process the entire situation.

Everybody was silent. It felt like a slow motion, most of your squad immediately running to you. You can’t breathe. The initial shock felt like a dagger through the heart. Your jaw slacks, as you look at Julie running away from the field.

Minnie immediately shook you from your trance, and that’s when you looked at her. The pain has gotten worse when you snap back to reality. You felt your entire cheerleading career crumble in your hands. The tears follow through as you look up at Minnie.

“Minnie, I’m done..” You can’t believe it. “Oh my god, I’m done.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

A few years back

“Huang Renjun, you’re close with him, right?” Giselle asked.

“Yeah..” You hesitantly say. You saw her look back at Ningning, and they both smirked at each other.

“I was just asking.” Giselle shrugged, and even though you were sure that there’s underlying meaning behind her question.

It has been about three months since you got in the cheerleading squad, and to be honest, it has been underwhelming. Giselle rarely calls for practice, but she’s always in cheer uniform. She also only has very limited rotation between the team, mostly her, Ningning, and Yiren always in the center.

You? You were always at the back. Which you never complained about, because Giselle is the captain for a reason, what she says, goes. And you’re a newbie, there’s no room for complaints, especially from you.

“What happened? Why’d she call you?” Renjun’s soft voice instantly turns your mood up. He waited at the parking lot, leaning on his car as he watched you walk towards him.

As soon as you close the distance he smiles warmly, then proceeds to fix the hair that was all over your face, and tucks into your ear.

“She just asked a question,” You didn’t lie, technically. You just withhold a minor detail.

“Ready for tonight?” He smiles warmly at you. You nod excitingly at him.

Renjun promised to take you out on a ‘friendly’ date tonight. It’s one of his ways to make it up for the time he lost with you. You swear to him that he didn’t need to do all this, but he insisted that you come with this ‘date’ tonight.

You didn’t want to expect anything, but it’s hard not to when you’re literally head over heels with Renjun. A little assuming won’t hurt, sometimes.

“Are you sure I don’t need to change my clothes?” You pat down your pleated skirt, a bit conscious about your outfit. You were only wearing an oversized knitted sweater– and your everyday sneakers for this ‘date’.

Renjun is also rocking a casual outfit, but he still looks dashing. It's honestly not fair.

“No, I promise you, you look good in anything.”

There’s also a change in how Renjun talks to you. He talks to you with a bit of… flirting? You didn’t want to assume anything, again, but being delusional naturally is registered in your system.

You didn’t know where Renjun was taking you, but you didn’t care as long as you’re with him. Nothing could make this man look bad in your books.

When the car stops, your hand moves to the car door, but Renjun held your wrist.

“Come on, you don’t need to open the door for me.” You chuckle a bit, finding his chivalry cute.

“No, we don’t even need to leave the car.” You furrow your brows at him. As you turn your eyes on the front, you get suddenly blinded by a cinema sized LED screen.

You hitch your breath as the familiar movie starts.

“Bring It On!” You squeal, fascinated and somewhat perplexed as to how Renjun got this drive in cinema play a movie from the 2000s.

You turn to him with, corners of your mouth going up. He smiled back, reached at the backseat— and suddenly, a bouquet of yellow tulips separated your eyes from him.

You can’t help but blink rapidly, trying to make sense of it all. Is this an actual date? Not a friendly one? Whatever is going on right now, one thing’s for sure, you’re loving every second of it.

The movie started, and it feels like you’re straight out of a novel. However, as you try to relax, your fingers brush against his, and you swear you felt a slight spark.

At this very moment, the movie is long forgotten. All your undivided attention is on the way your skin feels hot, and your focus is on how to initiate more contact with Renjun.

“Want something to eat?” He asks softly, glancing at you with the sweetest eyes you could ever imagine.

“Not exactly that,” you let out an awkward chuckle and shifted in your seat.

“What’s the problem?” God, he’s so oblivious, you just want to jump his bones right now. You shake your head off with the dirty thoughts.

“Why– why’re we doing this? Why are you doing this, Renjun?” You gather courage to actually address the elephant in the room.

His jaw slacks but he swiftly kept his composure. “I thought you’d want to finish the movie first—”

“I’ve watched that movie 54 times. I could probably cite the next dialogue without thinking. So what is it, Renjunnie?”

He gulps one time, before he starts fidgeting with his hands. “I love you, y/n. I have loved you for a long time now and I was a coward because I had thought that a loser like me didn’t have the right to want you. So I gained my confidence, tried befriending other people to gain popularit–” Before he could even finish, you threw the bouquet on the back seat of his car and grabbed his collar. Next thing you know is you’re already making out with him on the passenger seat and you did not care about anything else.

You pulled away, breathless, “I love you too, Renjun.”

You could not take your hands off of each other as soon as you entered his apartment. He shared it with a guy named Donghyuck, but he was out tonight, which you thanked the heavens for.

“Y/n,” He whispers your name every chance he gets, which is not much since your lips are connected at every moment ever since you stepped foot in this apartment.

You didn’t want to rush things with him, but you just felt like this was the right moment. This was the perfect timing. He’s the right person to do this with.

He kissed you hard, but softly at the same time. It was like you were drowning, but you didn’t mind it.

“Shit,” curses sounded heavenly when it came from his mouth, turning you on even more.

You didn’t even realize you were already in the confinement of his bedroom, until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. You let your balance loose, allowing yourself to lay back on the mattress.

He looked at you in a way that made your spine shiver, your entire body burning with desire.

“Are you sure about this?” He carefully asks as he lowers himself to tower over you. You look at him with the same passion and nod your head. “I’m always sure about you.” You take his lips once more.

You can tell he was hesitant to touch places you wanted his hands on. So you take the lead, grabbing his nervous hands and placing it on your breast. “Please touch me,”

His jaw slackens, a new sensation traveling down his body. “I’-I’m sorry, I haven’t done this before.” He stuttered, but you just bit your lip.

“I haven’t either. We’ll be each other’s first,” You smile reassuringly at him, caressing his cheek as he looks at you warily.

He started to massage your breast, whilst his lips traveled down your neck. You can feel your stomach flutter at the feeling, never expecting such a move would make you go crazy. He then looks at you again, holding the hem of your shirt, almost as if asking permission. You gazed over at him with lust that you knew he got the message.

He lifted it up, and in every skin that gets exposed, he blessed it with his lips. The wetness of it makes your breath hitch. “Renjun, please.”

He pulled your sweater up until you’re now only left with your bra. He slowly reaches at your back, which you helped by arching, and with a snap, your bra falls undone.

The cold breeze around your nipples did not last long because as soon as his eyes fell down, his lips attached to one of the peaks. You shudder, gripping his hair, gently pulling it. You’re a moaning mess.

“Touch me more,” You managed to blurt out. He seemed to understand, with the way his hands traveled down your skirt. Still making out with your exposed breast, paying attention one after another, he started playing with your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already.” He felt the dampness over the cloth, directing his middle finger on the slit. You gasp in pleasure, flinching every time he explored further.

“Jun,” You whine when he starts pulling down your skirt, along with your panties. His jaw opens slowly as he looks at you with hunger behind his eyes, but the softness of adoration still present at his expression. You clench at the sudden coldness but he didn’t allow you to suffer any further as he moved fast and removed his own clothing.

“Shit, baby you’re fucking gorgeous.”

He parted your thighs and squished himself in between, his member hitting your core ever so slightly. But the thought of it drives you nuts, and it takes all of you to not do anything about it. He went back to making out with you as his hands do wonders.

“Uh, my gosh.” You inhale once his fingers start rubbing your pussy, trying to steady your hands on his body. He pulls away just to watch you fall apart in his hands.

He bites his lip as his fingers started moving down, where your hole is. “I’m.. I’m gonna finger you first, okay?” He asks ever so carefully, and it’s obvious that he’s also as nervous as you are.

“Okay, baby. I trust you.”

And just then, he applied pressure and eventually entered you, making you flinch a bit. He moans with you, a foreign feeling enveloping at his fingertips. This is the first time he had ever touched somebody, and he can already tell that you’re the best.

“R-Renjun.” You whine as he starts moving in and out. ]

“Fuck, fuck you’re dripping, oh-” He takes a glance at your wet core, where his middle finger disappears. He pushed another finger in and you swore you almost felt like you’re coming.

You see his other hand leave your breast, moving it down his own body and you just knew what he was going to do. You swiftly take his hand away and replace it with yours. You knew enough from videos, ones that were shown to you by your former friends.

He muttered out a deep groan once you made contact with his cock, immediately moving your hands in the same rhythm he does with his own fingers.

You never knew it would feel this good. The look in his face, the way his mouth slackens and the way he falls vulnerable on your touch felt dangerously addicting.

There was a strange feeling on your stomach, like a thread that’s waiting to snap. Like you were about to explode. “Renj– oh, I’m.. I think I’m coming,”

You cry at the feeling, making him work even harder. He licks his lips as he went faster, and you can just feel your body shake. Your hands can no longer move, and in the next moment, you felt euphoria. You were shaking, grabbing at his wrist, trapping it in between as you rode the wave of pleasure.

“That was so fucking hot, baby.. God I can just cum right here.” He says, now trying to calm you down. He placed a kiss on your forehead and whispered ‘good job’. Your eyes are still closed when he positioned himself on top of you, the tip of his cock aligning in your entrance.

“You ready?” He asks, moving his tip up and down your slit. You nod, even when tired, you’re still filled with eagerness.

“I need to feel you now,” You say. He gave you a peck on your lips and just when you know it, he started to stretch you out.

And it hurts. It hurts so bad, but it's so good.

“It hurts,” You just couldn’t believe how painful it was. Yes, you knew it would sting a bit, but not like this. You almost wanted to stop right there but when you felt him shiver, and hear him moan, everything washed off.

“I’-I’m sorry baby, fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” He says, whining even louder than you. He cages your head with both his forearms, making you look up at him, and him only.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He says, tears on the edge of his eyes.

“I love you so much,” You whisper. Swiftly, by looking at his eyes, the pain subsided. “You can move now, baby.”

He nods and in every thrust he makes, the pain slowly turns to pleasure. Like magic, it dissipates into thin air, only replaced with the pure euphoric feeling.

Your tears were one of those tears that came from pleasure, and that pleasure not only derives from him fucking you, but also from the fact that it’s him you’re doing this with. The boy you love the most.

“I can’t, baby. I can’t last, you feel too fucking good.” He whined in your ear, embracing you so tight that you might’ve broken a rib, not that you’d care.

You hugged him back, “It’s okay, baby. Let go.”

“Ah, ah— shit, I love you. I love you, y/n. Please tell me you— fuck —love me too.”

You were there with him, both your climax approaching fast, even faster when he called your name. “I love you so much, my baby, my Huang Renjun.”

You both came, looking at each others eyes. He dived down to kiss you torridly, caressing your hair.

And with that intense state of pleasure and love, you hold him like you’ve never before.

Everything was perfectly in place for you, and you’ve never been happier.

You’re achieving your dream of becoming a cheerleader, and your dream of being with your first love, Huang Renjun. It all seemed dandy, until Giselle asked you to stay behind practice.

“You know Theo? The main base? Yeah, he likes you, y/n.” At the end of the practice, Giselle and Ningning basically cornered you. You had no idea about what they were talking about— one thing’s for sure, you’re not interested.

“I don’t like him like that.. and besides, I have a—”

“And our Ningning here likes Renjun. So I suggest giving her a chance, yeah?” Giselle crossed her arms across her chest, lifting her brows.

You were puzzled. You and Renjun just officiated your relationship last night, how can they ask you this? Your breathing quickens.

“I-I— Giselle, what are you saying? He’s my boyfriend,” Your voice started to shake.

“Don’t piss me o—” Ningning rolled her eyes at you and even attempted to lunge at you, making you flinch but Giselle blocked her.

“Nings,” Giselle reprimanded before staring back at you again.

“You know that cheerleading is all about sisterhood, right, y/n?” Her voice was ice cold, her eyes making you shiver. The Giselle you idolized was long gone, only replaced by this cold hearted person.

“I—”

“But it’s fine. However, you can’t just turn down Theo like that, right? He’s been talking about you nonstop, and to be honest, I like him as my brother. So, be kind and meet him at the back of the gym tonight. You can do that, right?” Her attitude screamed authoritative, but also soft, as if to trick you into manipulation. She didn’t let her smile fade while waiting for your answer.

You shake your head, “I will talk to him when I want to, Giselle. But I don’t think its a good idea—”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to go against the cheer captain? You'll see him after this. And you better not tell Renjun. Or else, I’ll kick you out of the team.”

You were in a state of shock. You feel highly strung, why is she being like this? Threatening to kick you out because you refuse to obey her nonsense order?

You couldn’t say anything when they left. You were conflicted on so many levels.

When you become Captain, you will never be like her. You’ll be better, in every conceivable way.

But now that you’re still starting, you can’t do much. So you followed her. Convincing yourself that nothing worse will happen. You'll just have to talk with Theo, that’s it.

[6:34pm] injunnie <3: baby are u done? meet me @ the parking lot

Your fingers shake, typing out a lie. You cannot fathom lying to him, but still, you did.

[6:35pm] you: hi babyy <3 uhm, not yet. i need to practice a few stunts :(( i’ll just text u, ok?

[6:35pm] injunnie <3: ok baby. see u later! love u :*

You brush your hand across your hair. Not even a day in your relationship, and you’re already lying to him about meeting a guy. You felt horrible.

Yet, here you are, standing a few feet away from Theo.

“Hi, y/n.” He was smiling at you, but you felt uncomfortable. He started walking towards you rather aggressively, to the point that your legs started to step away backwards.

There was a measure of anxiety spread all over your face, however, you still managed to talk.

“Giselle told me–”

“She’s right, y/n. I asked her to help me. And I’m glad you decided to talk about this–”

Your brows knitted together, but you thought that maybe he had a wrong impression about you coming here to talk to him. “Actually, Theo, I have a boyfriend.”

He froze, smile fading, his expression accenting his confusion. You almost felt bad, but in a swift moment, his lips stretched into a smirk and leaned his head to the right. “Well, you could just give me a lil’ kiss then, right?”

Your lips ajar, brows furrowed as you try and process what you’ve just heard. Deeply offended, you attempt to call him out on his brazen request, but he continues.

“Giselle would be so mad to hear that you can’t even give me a single kiss, y/n. She loves me, and if I told her how selfish you are, she’d have no problem banning you from cheerleading up until college. She has connections, y/n.”

All other words suddenly fled your mind. Theo’s basically blackmailing you into cheating. Your nose wrinkled in disgust upon his words, but you can’t seem to say anything. Heart beats intensely as you weigh the choice you need to make in this situation.

“Giselle won’t–”

“Oh she will. You’re outshining her in the squad and she’d be more than happy to make up a reason to ban you. Come on, y/n. Your boyfriend doesn’t need to know.”

You’d be forbidden to join up until college. You wouldn’t be able to cheer ever again.

He takes a step forward, this time, rooted in your place, you feel your stomach twist. Your eyes burned in tears. Theo’s touch burned, and you gulped as his palm laid on your cheek.

You couldn’t move. Your skin tingles, heart rapidly beating within your chest as your breathing grows tighter.

He doesn’t have to know. Renjun wouldn’t know.

At the moment his lips touched yours, you knew you made a mistake. You felt disgusted, you can’t find it in you to respond.

“Kiss me fucking properly.” He growls. You clench your fist, and tighten your eyes as you kiss him back despite the tremble of your lips due, a wave of revulsion swept through your entire body.

You’re cheating on Renjun for your dream of being a cheerleader.

Then there was a terrifying moment when you feel someone else being present in this vile affair that you’re forced to partake in. You open your tear filled eyes and right there and then, your whole world shatters.

There he was, the love of your life, standing a few feet away. Behind him was Ningning, sporting a smirk as if she’d won. Your mind tells you to step away, run to Renjun, and beg for forgiveness. But your fear overshadowed you, staying right where you were, slowly digging your own grave.

His eyes were poisonous to even look upon, so much hatred tainted in his mind. You knew he’d hate you, no, he’d despise you. And nothing breaks your heart even more than seeing him walk away.

You immediately pushed Theo, and landed a sharp slap across his face. Tears surged in uncontrollably as you slowly realize that you’d already lost the only person you loved.

Whatever it takes, huh?

You see Theo leave, and when it’s just you and the overflowing guilt alone, that’s when your legs give out. You sat there, clutching your hand on your chest as you cried, desperately wiping your lips until they hurt.

In the quiet moments that followed, the only sound was the echoing resonance of guilt, regret, and shame.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Ruptured patellar tendon on your knee, Ms. Y/N. Unfortunately you’ll have to undergo physical therapy, and most likely, you'll never be able to perform in cheerleading indefinitely.”

You felt like a bucket of ice cold water was just poured all over you. You stared at nothingness, hoping all of this was just a dream.

Why should this even happen to you? Is it karma? If it is, isn’t this too much of a punishment?

You cried and cried until your eyes dried up, having to accept the fact that at the age of 22, your dream was snatched away from you.

Was it cruel? Yes, absolutely. Did you deserve it? Arguable.

Cheerleading was the only thing you know, and now it’s off the table. It was as though a veil of sadness had been draped over your eyes, distorting your perception of the world and casting everything in shades of gray. What are you supposed to do now?

A swarm of support follows you on the third day of your hospitalization, and you swear you’re grateful for all of them, however, you can’t seem to find gratitude for any of them.

Most of the cards called you Birdie, and how are you supposed to live up to the name if your wings were broken off? You’re no longer Birdie, and the only remaining sentiment that name carries is sadness and disappointment.

“I beat her up, you know?” Minnie says one time she visited you.

You look at her in shock. A laugh traveled through her, “Not ‘beat’, actually. I just landed a few on her face. Nobody in the squad snitched, because they knew she deserved it. Her boyfriend seemed mad about it tho,”

For the first time in a while, you thought about Renjun. Your mind was in a different space the entire time that you forgot about him. He wasn’t there when the incident occured and it would be possible if he didn’t know what happened.

“Does he know?” Your voice was scratched, and a glint of hope laced in your tone.

“I don’t think he knew of the severity of the injury, and I’m sure that bitch already switched up the story. He’s a dumbass.”

“He wasn’t there, he didn’t see what happened. I’m sure he’s–”

Minnie snapped, raising her voice. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Birdie. Stop defending him! You should get your mind off of him. It’s pissing me off that despite what happened, you still find a way to give people the benefit of a doubt. And I bet you don’t even blame Julie, you’d rather blame yourself,” She’s right. Not that you’re not mad about what Julie did, but you’re more so empty. You don’t know what to feel, and even debated if you deserved it or not.

You sink more on your seat in shame. “Please, learn to be mad. Learn to be angry, and hold people into accountability. Not everyone deserves a second chance.”

That made you think, not only about this entire ordeal, but also the past. Not everyone deserves a second chance.

Does that mean you too? With what you did with Renjun? Did you not deserve a second chance?

Maybe you’re too nice because you’re overcompensating for what you did to get what you had. And now you’ve had your time, it was cruelly snatched from you.

Maybe that dream wasn’t yours to begin with.

And maybe, Renjun wasn’t meant to be yours, too.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Renjun felt uneasy. There’s something weird about the atmosphere that night of the game.

Before your performance that night, he had to take a call from his mom, asking him to come home for a favor. He was conflicted, because although he masked it greatly, he did liked watching you perform.

However, he thought that you still had a final performance in the next game, which was twice as important than that night so he just opted to leave before the game.

The next morning, he was overwhelmed by Julie’s tears.

“M-Minnie, that fucking bitch beat me up!” She screams, pointing at the slight bruising at her temple.

He heard about the incident last game, and it killed him to get the news that you were injured, again. The last time that happened, he almost wanted to take you home and take care of you properly. Yet, something in him always reminds him that you chose this career.

You chose this over him.

But Renjun wouldn’t lie if he said that he didn’t feel bad about Julie right now. From what he has heard, the entire thing was an accident. Julie did not deserve to be hurt physically, at least that’s what he thought at first.

Julie had become a close friend of his, quickly forming a bond with shared interest in some things. Julie’s really pretty as well, and even though Renjun doesn’t care about that stuff, he’s sure as hell won’t deny the truth.

He tried, he really did. Julie was a perfect partner, and she seemed sweet and kind, one of the qualities Renjun liked about her. So, yes. Maybe he did plan to be with her, at least sleep with her.

But when he saw your pain stricken face in that elevator, he was suddenly unsure.

“Why did you have to put your hands on her?” He asks Minnie calmly. He had no intention confronting her, he just wanted to know the reason and she happened to walk past him.

She stared back at him with a cold grin, “That bitch deserved more.”

For some odd reason, Renjun didn’t say anything after that. Rather, he’d questioned why Minnie did it to that extent, why is she so angry that she’d resort to violence.

It wasn’t until the day before your big performance that Renjun started to worry. It has been more than a week and he still hasn’t seen you.

He snuck out from classes just to peek at the cheerleading practice and you weren’t there. Not in your usual classes, hallways or cafeteria where he’s usually seen you.

Out of sheer desperation, he asked Julie.

“What happened at the last game?”

He saw a glimpse of fear run through her eyes when it widened upon hearing his question.

“I told you, It was an accident.” Julie’s tone was defensive.

There’s a voice inside Renjun’s head, saying to not trust her.

For the reason being that you’d never not show up in your classes, even with simple injury. Sure, you’d skip practice for a few days but you’d be back on your feet the next day. Especially with an event like this.

His worry grew, now stressing on why you’re still not around. It’s the final game, and you should be here, if not to cheer, but atleast watch your squad. You’d always done that. So why are you still not around?

He curses at himself for caring about you this much. He felt like he betrayed himself, his own morals and beliefs because he should not care about you anymore. Afterall, you cheated on him. No matter how nice you are, no matter how much you claim that you’ve changed. There’s no way he could just forget the pain he went through.

So why is he standing outside the field, waiting on any of your friends to show up and ask them where you’ve been?

“Where’s your captain?” He asks the first person he saw wearing the squad uniform.

“Oh, she’s almost here, wait, there she is!” Sunghoon says pointing at the back.

A wave of relief washed over Renjun. Shit, you’re okay. You’re here.

But when he turns around, he sees Minnie. He furrows his brow, quite perplexed as to why he’s pointing at Minnie when he knows damn well she’s not the captain of cheerleading.

“If you’re here to ask where’s Julie, I kicked that bitch out. Sorry,” She sneered at him.

He almost yells that he’s not here for Julie. He couldn't care less about her. He’s here for you.

“You’re.. You’re not the captain. Where’s y/n?”

Minnie’s smirk faded, as if his question shifted the mood. “You really don’t know, huh?”

He felt the first thump in his chest. “What?”

“Better ask her yourself.”

With that, she left Renjun hanging. He couldn’t try and stop Minnie, asking her for any explanation because he felt like he was going to explode.

His lips fell ajar, as everything clicked.

You had an injury, and right after that you didn’t go to any of your practice, then Julie got kicked out and now Minnie’s replaced you as the captain.

He covers his mouth in realization, adding another layer of fear. He needs to find you.

Fortunately, Renjun doesn’t need to walk far. He had heard that you’re in the premises to watch the game, and the first place he had thought of was the gymnasium.

He finds you, sitting alone on the bleachers with a pair of pompoms on your side. You weren’t wearing your uniform.

“Y/n,” He whispers, yet the resonance of his voice echoes. He approaches you carefully, assessing the entire situation. He wants to be there for you, but he doesn’t want to force you if you want to be alone.

You look up at him, and when his eyes meet yours, he can just hear his heart break. You looked defeated. You look tired.

“Why aren’t you in uniform, Birdie?” He asks softly. Deep inside Renjun, he knew why. But he can’t accept it. Not when this is your life. Not when he knows it’ll break you to give up.

You slowly shake your head helplessly at him, on the verge of despair. Gripping both your hands on your knees, like you’re holding yourself together.

“The game’s about to start–”

“I can’t, Renjun, I can’t dance anymore.” He takes a huge breath after hearing your voice break, and he takes two huge steps to reach you. He kneels before you, grabbing your cold hands.

“There has got to be another way, baby. We’ll get you the best doctor out th–”

“I’m done with cheerleading, Renjun. I.. I can’t even fucking walk properly!” You broke down in front of him, and he swore he’d never felt so horrible in his life. His own tears betrayed him, but he doesn't care. When you, his entire world, is falling apart in his hands.

He pulls you in a tight embrace, letting you wet his shirt completely. Caressing your hair as he attempts to calm you, but in his mind, he’s also hanging by a thread– seeing you like this, completely giving up, breaks him to his core.

“What do I do now, Renjun? What–” you sobbed in between your words, and he bit his lip hearing you like this. It hurts him so much to see you like this. He closes his eyes, gently trying to soothe your shaking shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, my baby.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head repeatedly.

At this moment, Renjun swears in his grave, that he will never forgive whoever did this to you.

And if your sweet smile never comes back after this, all hell will break loose. Because he’s never afraid of his own scars, but yours? Oh, that’s his deepest, darkest fear.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Neo Culture University Newsblog

“NCU’s Top Cheerleader, the captain of NCU Squadron, the first ever cheerleader to perform the highest basket toss in NCU cheerleading history, Y/N, L/N, famously known as The Bird, announces her departure from the squad after the incident at the first game between NCU vs SHU.

Also known as Birdie, had suffered a career ending injury after falling whilst performing a routine last Thursday night. It was announced by the cheer committee that Hwang Youngmin will be replacing her as a captain of the squad.

Furthermore, investigations involving a former cheerleader who’s accused of sabotaging the Cheer Captain’s career, causing her to retire from cheerleading. Foul play is suspected, and we’ll be reporting more on it soon. So far, it has been confirmed that said cheerleader is now kicked out of the squad. Updates soon.”

Renjun is filled with nothing but rage.

That was your dream. That was your everything. And just for… a fucking bitch to ruin it all for you?

“Calm down, man. I’m sure the school will handle it.” Jeno, ever the mediator says. This was the first time his friends saw him this fuming.

“No. Fuck no. I want that bitch out of this school.” Renjun was adamant about kicking Julie out. He’d do everything in his power to make sure she didn’t step foot on this campus ever again.

“Are we even sure about what happened—” Haechan attempts to cut in on the conversation but a sharp look from Renjun made him freeze.

“Do I look like I care? Accident or not, I’ll make sure she suffers. I’ll make up a dumb fucking reason, anything, to get her kicked out. I’ll fund the fucking investigation against her. I’ll make sure she pays for it. Whatever it takes.” His voice was dangerously calm. Every word carrying weight, every threat sounded like a promise.

It doesn’t matter to him now. He could lie and tell everybody he hates you, but nobody could ever hurt you like this. Not on his watch.

You could cheat on him a million times but he’ll never be angry enough to let this happen to you. Not when you were once his everything — not when you’re once his lifeline. Everyone else doesn’t matter.

When it comes to you, he’d do worse.

Haechan, Jeno and Jaemin looked at each other, worried about what Renjun would do. They had never seen him filled with this much rage. It was horrifying, the lengths he’s willing to take for you.

And deep inside, they knew that behind the cold exterior he always treated you with, is a man who is still deeply in love with you.

Also, one common knowledge among them is never to mess with Renjun.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Thank you, Ms. Lin! See you next monday,” You waved goodbye to your therapist, as you went out for your weekly physical therapy.

After the surgery, it was really hard to adjust. You needed to use clutches for what it feels like forever, and there were restrictions that you needed to follow. The school granted you a scholarship, which was really awesome to hear. At least that was taken care of.

“Baby,”

You look up front to see Renjun waiting for you in his car. You smiled at him and waved excitedly. He runs up to you, swiftly taking your bag with him.

“Right on time, impressive.” You sneer at him. He grabs your hand and hooks it over his arm.

“I was here fifteen minutes early, baby.” He winks at you, giving you a light peck on the lips. You giggled, watching him open the car door for you. You put your injured knee first, before sitting with your entire body.

“Where are we going?” You ask. He didn’t tell you about the plans today, but you didn’t bother to ask either. You just assumed he would take you back to his apartment and you’ll just burn a hole in his couch watching netflix the rest of the day.

You can never really pinpoint on when you and Renjun decided to get back together, or at least you think you’re back together. Ever since that day at the gymnasium, Renjun never left your side. You didn’t dare ask him what’s going on, afraid to ruin whatever it is.

You sat there, a bit uncertain on why Renjun still hasn’t started the car. You turn to him, looking for any reason as to why he just sat there gripping the steering wheel.

“Giselle called today,” He exhaled.

You widen your eyes in aghast. That’s a name you’ve never heard before. Or more accurately, that’s a name you wished to never hear of ever again.

Nonetheless, you guessed this topic should be discussed sooner or later. You can’t always avoid the inevitable, hiding from the ghosts from the past. And you believe that the both of you are much more grown now to handle it maturely.

“She saw the article, apparently. And uh, she told me.. Well, everything.” You take a deep breath.

You clear your throat and nodded, calculating on how you should go about the conversation. You’ve rehearsed begging him for forgiveness a thousand times before, however, you realize that you should just tell him what you feel at the moment. Not some rehearsed bullcrap, because Renjun deserves nothing but the raw truth from you.

“How’s Giselle? I hope they’re doing good,” You start with genuine curiosity.

Renjun furrows his brows as he looks at you. “Baby, they gave you hell and you still wish them the best? I–I don’t think I can ever forgive them for ruining us, ever.” He claims, grabbing your hand, intertwining it and kissing the back of your palm.

You smile warmly at him. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll forgive them for the both of us.”

He shook his head, disagreeing. “No. You’ll have to learn how to express anger for people who deserve it. You can’t let them get away every single time. They’d just do it all over again.”

A semblance of a smile had gently flickered onto your lips as you admired him. “Alright, baby. I’ll try. But good thing you’re with me now, right? You can be the bad cop and I’d be the good cop!”

Through his serious demeanor, a small smirk threatened to sneak its way on his mouth.

“And I’m so sorry for treating you like shit. I was deep in my own hateful charade to mask the fact that I still wanted to be with you. I guess I was a puss–”

“Language, baby.” You faked an angry tone, but immediately smiled after. “Besides, I understand. I wouldn’t want to be seen with a person who cheated on–”

“You didn’t, baby. You quite literally had no choice.” He warned.

“Okay, sure but you also have to let me earn your trust. At the end of the day, I still kissed somebody else when we’re together. But at the same time, I also feel terrible because it seemed like I sacrificed our own relationship for nothing.”

Everytime you remind yourself of the decision you made when you were young, hurting the person you love, for something that was taken away from you way too soon, makes you feel so stupid. So disappointed in yourself.

“I trust you with my life, baby. You’re responsible for me now, so don’t you dare leave me again. Okay? I love you.”

Before you wallow in guilt, Renjun kissed you deeply and passionately. Your lips move in a rhythmic manner, as if it was a melody that played in the silence of your hearts, a song of tenderness and affection.

“Shit, baby we should go. We’re going to be late,” He pulled away too early, despite your pleas and looked at his wristwatch.

You turn your head in confusion. Do you have plans today? He didn’t say anything and began to drive. You were sitting in your seat demented, wondering where he’d take you. You try to familiarize the road he’s taking, but you are left clueless.

He stopped at an expensive looking hall, seemingly a restaurant, or an events place, honestly you’re not sure. There's a waitress waiting at the reception. Renjun just says his name, and the woman just nodded and smiled at you. You hesitantly smiled back, and that’s when she guided you inside.

“What is this?” Your heart is now pumping out your chest, as you try to figure out Renjun's plan.

He just turns to you and puts his index fingers on his lips. The waitress stopped at a double door, knocked five times, odd to say the least, then gestured for Renjun to open the door.

For a moment, Renjun unlinks your hands from his arms to open the door. And as soon as you took a step inside the dark room, a collective excitement shrieked as the lights turned on.

“Congratulations, Birdie!”

Your eyes widened, your mouth fell open as you saw everyone who ever mattered to you greets you with the widest smile as they held their own party prop. The confetti drowns you, but it doesn't baffle you. What touched you the most is your cheer squad, Minnie leading them as she blows the small horn.

‘Celebrating Y/N “The Bird” L/N’s legacy in NCU Squad’ it says on a banner.

You covered your mouth and immediately broke down, Minnie running to you and hugging you so tight.

“Bitch, you’re gonna make me cry!” She whines as she tries to wipe your tears off your face.

You clutch your chest, being overwhelmed in joy. Sniffing silently as you greet the other people.

“There she is!” You hear Coach Evie emerging from the crowd, embracing you.

“Thank you, Coach.”

“You’re by far the best cheerleader I’ve seen in my career. But I know you’re much better than just being a cheerleader. Please remain as hopeful as you were before, Birdie.” She says, making you sob even more. You murmured more gratitude to her.

“Uh-Uhm.” You look at someone clearing their throat beside you, and you see an awkward Haechan standing there looking at his feet. Renjun harshly nudges him forward to you, Jeno and Jaemin smirking behind him.

“I apologize for my behavior, and I regret everything I have said that’s hateful towards you. I wish we could get along and be friends. And again, I’m sorry.” He says, almost robotic, and most people would find it insincere, but you just chuckled.

“Did Renjun ask you to memorize that?”

“Renjun asked more, actually. He was supposed to kneel, Birdie. Just wait for it..” Jaemin snickers, Jeno laughing at the entire thing.

“Psh. It’s fine, Haechan. I forgive you.” You say in the middle of a laugh, finding it almost adorable how Haechan is scared of Renjun. Somehow, it just makes sense.

It was Jeno’s turn to hug you, “Congrats, Birdie.” He’s always been soft and composed. You always appreciated that about him.

“Come here! Congratulations Birdie!!” Jaemin runs to you and embraces you, spinning you around. You yelp, not expecting it but Renjun quickly holds Jaemin’s shoulder as he pulls you from him.

“Not too much on my girl, dude!” Renjun shouts, as if Jaemin just kidnapped you in broad daylight. Jaemin carefully puts you down, pointing at Renjun with a mischievous smile splattered all over his face.

“Ooh, Is our Renjun jealous?”

The three of them clowned Renjun on, “It’s just–! She’s injured!” He says in defense.

As much as you want to watch him have fun with his friends, you’re afraid what’s on your mind can’t wait any longer.

“Baby,” You gently pull at his hand. He whipped his head towards you quickly.

You caress his furrowed brows, smoothing it then caressing his cheeks. In the middle of the chaos, the noise and the sea of people, you looked at him as if you two were the only people in the room.

His eyes fill your chest with warmth, the familiarity of his touch calming your soul, and the comfort of his smile soothes your entire wellbeing. He is your solace, and you won’t ever fucking do anything to hurt him, ever again.

“I love you,” You say, silently, eliciting a smile from him. He leans down, kissing you with intensity, almost sparking a flame between the two of you. You hear the crowd cheering, as you two pull away.

“I love you, and you will never be unloved by me. I’m sorry baby but you’re stuck with me. Be my girlfriend again?” He asks loud enough for just the two of you. You nod eagerly, kissing him again.

That’s when you felt the world cheer for your happiness. It’s now clear to you that your happiness is with him. Not with cheerleading, not with anything else. Your dream could change, your future could give you the biggest plot twist ever known to man, but one thing’s for sure.

Just as long as you’re with Renjun, you’re gonna be okay.

To: My dearest Renjun,

I will love you in this lifetime, and the next, because forever doesn’t seem enough. My love, you’re worth it all. xoxo

-y/n

-end-

748 notes · View notes

yv0nn1e · 5 months ago

Text

"we were born to a world with dead ends."

gravity — rafayel

summary: to be betrayed in one timeline, to find out the truth in another, and now, to seek revenge in the current.

pairing: rafayel x non!mc fem!reader

cw/tw: angst? mean reader, some twists from the myths and the actual lore itself.

note: an alternate version of my backburner rafayel fic where instead of falling in love with rafayel, reader gets angry when she realizes lemuria's fall is actually because of rafayel.

word count: 2k+

non!mc reader who remembers the excruciating pain of losing her life in every single timeline where rafayel was involved.

non!mc reader who, in the current timeline and at eleven years old, starts to get flashbacks of her past lives, not knowing what they were until the memories fill each other in as she matures. the older she gets, the more refined those visions become, until she reaches the age of fifteen where a rough vision of rafayel, her beloved, gives up his heart, and lemuria for this strange yet certainly unforgettable girl. non!mc reader who, realizes that she might have died at rafayel's hands— that lemuria fell under rafayel's sacrifice and love.

non!mc reader who, at fifteen, decides to walk away from the sea and from her dearest friend who, she now knows, had betrayed their people in their past lives. she goes to land with her aunt, finding solace in her passion for acting and the dramatics. rafayel had tried to stop her, or at least, get him to accompany her yet he could never forget the underlying anger that had filtered her eyes.

"you're really leaving? but why?" rafayel asked. he wasn't sad, not exactly. perhaps just a tad bit melancholy at the thought of his truest friend walking away, leaving him all alone to face the pressure of the sands and seas all by himself.

"i can't achieve anything here." she replies, the duality of the meaning behind her words floating above rafayel's head. she can't achieve anything if she stays right where she had always been after all these years, after all these lives: right next to rafayel. she will be bound to the same ending if she stayed any longer.

they bid each other goodbye, and non!mc reader was more than ready to start a new life. perhaps, if she stayed away from rafayel, if she had stayed away from lemuria, then she cannot befall the same painful fate that she would during her previous lives.

non!mc reader who physically and internally experiences the actual pain of the lemurians' sufferings in her past lives whenever she would get a vision despite the fact that she had already stirred far far away from the sea.

talia looks at her worryingly as non!mc reader sits on the plush of the luxurious couch, her hand in her chest as she took in deep breathes— each and every inhale activating that painful tightening in her chest, the same sensation of internal stabbing.

"did you get another vision?" talia asks, her soft and delicate fingers rubbing non!mc reader's back. the girl could only nod as she takes one last deep breath before slumping her back towards the headboard of the couch.

"how much longer will i have to endure this? do you even get visions like mine too?" non!mc reader chokes out as she takes a glass of water. her aunt talia visited her on set today. it had been long since non!mc reader had decided to live above water and join the humans. she's an adult now, in her twenties, and a successful young actress at that.

"dearest, you know i don't. we've spoken about this. you're— you're different." talia says in a hesitant tone. these two have tried to figure out the root of non!mc reader's visions, how do they happen, and why they're happening in the first place. but nothing. they have nothing. the only thing they were certain about was the fact that the visions are highly implied to be true. the tales and myths about lemuria align with the visons and flashes.

"perhaps, there is a reason that you, out of everyone, has been bestowed such gift." talia comforts, a gentle pat glides over non!mc reader's shoulder blades.

she could only scoff. "this is no gift. this is a curse."

non!mc reader who falls into shock as she stumbles upon a familiar purple set of hair on a tall figure during a banquet. could it really be— "yn!" her name rolls off his tongue so softly, gently. all so familiar and nostalgic that for a second, non!mc reader forgets that the man whom her love transcended one life over another for had been the cause of her impending doom.

"rafayel?" she minds his presence. he looked a lot older than she'd last seen him. he was a lot taller, his lean figure built stronger with grown muscles, his aura being more elegant and confident. and yet, she questions whether or not he had changed. "what are you— why are you here?"

he tells her that he's settling in linkon for a while. he says that he's got a lot of business advocates and opportunities to stumble upon the city as he pursues his artist career. he then reveals to her that he too had left the sea not long after she had gone, saying something about how the sea's weight felt a little too heavy under ground.

"does it really get easier up above the water?" she throws the question out rhetorically as they find themselves in a secluded seating area of the banquet.

rafayel wasn't dumb. surely, he felt the venomous tone in her voice or the unwelcoming glare from her gaze. he wishes it would be his mind playing tricks on him but the more he stares deeply into her eyes, the more he feels as though something was not right between him and his dearest friend.

"i don't really think so." he replies to her rhetorical question.

one thing about non!mc reader is that she isn't entirely certain that her snarky remark wasn't applicable to her. over the years, she often doubts whether or not trying to escape her home was better for her.

the both of them stare at each other. one pair of eyes gazing at the other's figure filled with confusion and nostalgia. wondering where he went wrong or if he had done something wrong. the other set of eyes staring in regret, unsure of whether or not joy or anger should control her thinking as of the moment.

the silence was louder than ever, until it was interrupted with that even louder ringing in non!mc reader's ears, that stabbing pain becoming stronger— probably the strongest she's ever felt as every fiber of her being was aching.

and yet she was too stubborn to let a slither of her vulnerability and truth slip past the cracks of her facade.

"i have to go." she tries to say confidently or rather, in a more composed way as she stood up, grabbing her purse and clenching her chest with her free hand which earned her a concerned and confused gaze in rafayel's face.

"are you okay? i can take you—"

"im fine, rafayel." she insists, pushing past him as he stood up to reach her.

"it was certainly something to see you again." she coughs out a fake scoff as she takes one step forward, only for a gasp to slip past her lips when her ankles bend, cause her whole body to not only pulse in excruciating pain, but to fall.

she feels the pain take her away from consciousness, a flash of white turning into a silhouette of a younger boy, his hair the same shade of violet as rafayel's, his voice more playful, as the image of her childhood in the prosperous kingdom of lemuria in a previous life takes place in her mind for a while, but the realization did not go unnoticed.

no, it does not get easier above water. as long as gravity exists, the weight of the world will always pull you down to the ground where one must acknowledge the truth.

non!mc reader who realizes that the pain she feels whenever she gets visions started when she left the sea.

she finds herself waking up in a bed of soft silk and fluffy pillows. this wasn't her home, the ambiance was rather softer and cleaner as the sun's rays painted dawn against the windows.

"you're finally awake." she gets taken out of her trance as she turns her head to the doorway, a smiling rafayel leans against the frame of the door. "you good now? maybe next time, don't insist that you're fine when you're not."

"what?" she's confused. she's never passed out from a vision before. sure, at first the pain was unbearable, but years of endurance has built her some kind of immunity or rather, suppressants that makes the ache less painful.

"you had a really high fever last night. what's worse is that, the tides weren't even low. we don't usually get that sick but i guess you're just a bit helpless without me, yeah?" rafayel teases as he brings her a tray of food and medicine. she stares at him in awe, that buried affection for him attempting to break past the cracks, but she does not let it go.

non!mc reader starts to see clearer visions now that rafayel is back in her life. with the added age and maturity, the flashes are longer and less vague. so when the moment a full vision of what happened during the sea god's ceremony played, anger resurfaces her mind.

non!mc reader who swore to avenger herself and lemuria, her beloved land. which is why, when rafayel introduces his new bodyguard, she immediately knew that she was the sea god's bride. that rafayel's miss bodyguard had his heart. literally.

and if it was what's needed to restore lemuria, she would stop at nothing to have it in her hands.

non!mc reader who is staring as the main lead in a new linkon tv series that depicts a tale about an ancient underwater civilization called lemuria. she could only laugh hysterically at her role. was she really playing the role of the sea god's bride? the sole thing she could never be in whatever universe or timeline she was in? oh how destiny loved to mock her.

non!mc reader who asks rafayel for help, feigning vulnerability and saying that she needed his bodyguard too, saying something about her old bodyguard going away for a while, even offering to pay double what rafayel was paying her.

non!mc reader who takes this chance to let her suppressed anger over the centuries and lifetimes that have passed out. it started with complicated coffee orders to fetch then upgraded to delivering her wardrobe, only to accuse miss bodyguard of practically sullying the dress with her reckless actions. in general, just treating her like the worst. miss bodyguard could quit whenever she wanted but rafayel had asked her so persuasively to induldge in non!mc reader's request since she was one of his closest friends.

non!mc reader who gets attacked by one of her visions, the pain stronger than what she assumed was the strongest attack when she met rafayel in that banquet before. what's more severe was that she could practically feel and hear the screams in her more recent visions.

non!mc reader who is sick and tired of suffering the regrets of the past, tired of carrying the weight of a future that is clearly telling her to take responsibility. so, one day, she flat out says to rafayel to do something about lemuria. to take his heart back, to end his people's sufferings. and yet, rafayel, like in all those visions she would see and remember, only replied with the same thing: that there would be other ways.

non!mc reader who damns it all, never stopping at one ask to convince rafayel to take his heart back. every chance she could, she would try to bring it up with rafayel which results into the man questioning his bestfriend's eagerness. she wasn't usually like this. she was never this insistent. despite the rejections, non!mc reader is thankful that rafayel was asked to be an illustrator in her new project because it makes it easier for her to bother him to own up to his responsibilities.

yn lets out an exhausted sigh as she looks at herself in the mirror. this costume was ridiculous, she thinks, as she analyzes the decor of the dress— the director said it would be a close-to-accurate replica of lemurian bridal attires. her top, a delicate yet structured piece, bared her midriff, emphasizing her poise, while bands of gilded accents traced the contours of her shoulders and arms. a flowing sash, transparent like morning mist, hung from her waist, its shimmering fabric embellished with ornate patterns that mirrored ancient symbols of wisdom.

fuck, they were right. it was close to accurate. so much so that non!mc reader starts to pity herself, thinking that the only moment she would have gotten to dress up like a true lemurian bride would be in a show, a fictional, unrealistic series that depicts the story of her beloved and the other woman he had chosen and would choose in every other life.

she steps out of the dressing room, the staffs getting the scene ready as the director yelled out orders. rafayel was with his bodyguard in a corner, discussing with the other illustrators what to do or add into the scene to make it more vibrant.

"it's a wedding scene, it's supposed to be colorful." he rolls his eyes, his bodyguard chuckling in amusement at his sulking. non!mc reader wonders how the producers even got the rafayel to agree to being part of the project. initially, she would've thought that rafayel thinks they would sully the lemurian culture and tale itself and yet, here he was, ever so passionate in the intricate coloring of the set.

"honestly, these people look like they're trying to disrespect the lemurian legacy—" rafayel stops speaking as he turns around, only to be met with non!mc reader in that traditional wedding gown. she looked certainly beautiful in it, he could not deny that. in fact, it looked rather fitting on her, as if she was meant to wear it.

she was currently distracted, practicing her lines with her partner in the show so rafayel's gaze goes unnoticed.

non!mc reader who has to poorly go through a physical and actual demonstration of how the end of lemuria was met because of this stupid show that somehow, got every detail accurately correct.

the way her limbs trembled at the set, the lines, and the impending remembrance of what was to happen after the ceremonial scene in the story. her terror was so obvious that her stutter and shaking figure immediately warned the director and everyone else that something was wrong.

the recreating of the scene in a different perspective terrified her so much, the trauma of reliving that kind of pain and watching it replaying in her mind. the fear was strong enough to trigger another vision, clearer than ever.

"excuse me. i'll be back." she manages to speak, immediately running back to her dressing room to handle the pain all by herself.

non!mc reader who has never told rafayel about the visions. the only person who knew about them were talia and herself. so one could only imagine the feeling brewing in rafayel's guts when rushes to open the door of her dressing room, only to see the actual pain his yn has to go through. all alone. all by herself.

it only then hits him. this must be why she had been so insistent on taking his heart back. this must be why she had left. why she had been so distant— why she acted the way she did.

she was angry at him. albeit, she was literally hurting because of the actions, the bond, the devotion he had sacrificed and given away.

his beloved yn was suffering because of him.

in every universe, he would give his heart to his love, causing him the loss of his kingdom and his entire being. in every universe, non!mc reader has to endure the physical manifestation of the regressing feeling of neglect and abandonment from the one true person that holds her protection in his hands.

in every universe, they were always bound to be met with dead ends.

#rafayel #rafayel angst #lads angst #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lads rafayel #lads mc #lads x reader #lads #rafayel smut

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anonymityisfunwriter · 1 year ago

Text

The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy

Pairing: Greaser!Bucky Barnes x Uptown Girl!Reader Summary: Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

A.N. - Here's a long awaited request from one of my dearest readers @oneofstarkskids, it definitely strayed a little from that initial request but i hope you enjoy! "just reread this and it's still so amazing 😭 do you take requests? if so, would you be inclined to writing a grease themed bucky au one shot?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Picture this... he's from the wrong side of the tracks. He's everything every mother in your neighborhood warned you about. His hands perpetually stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips, scuffed leather jacket snug around his broad shoulders.

You're none of those things, the complete opposite. Pearls strung around your neck. Perfectly done up, lips painted the perfect rouge. You're as educated as a woman could be in your day and age. You're an Uptown girl. Capital O - Old Money.

Your friends are enamored with Bucky Barnes and his friends - though you all know they'll never do anything about. Not as long as their parents had anything to say about it. And none of them are prepared to give up their high class life. It's just fun for them. A way to sow some wild oats before their parents introduce them to their future husbands.

Every chance they get, they pester you to take the long way home. To walk by that mechanic shop where Bucky and his friends hang out.

They never approach those Brooklyn boys. No, they never offer more than a coy smile and a languid, flirty twinkle of their manicured fingers. They just relish in the attention they get from walking past them.

You hate it. You hate their arrogance. You hate the smell of nicotine that hangs around him. You hate everything about them, down to those oddly charming Brooklyn accents.

"Hey," a blonde boy calls as you and your best friend walk past their mechanic shop one day. "Hey!"

"I told you this was a bad idea," you hiss at your friend, locking your arm with hers. "Now, look."

"I think they want to talk to us," she squeals under her breath.

He picks up his stride, doing a half jog until he reaches where your friend holds you hostage on the pavement. "We see you ladies passin' through every once in a while. Thought we could be friends or somethin'."

Your friend is immediately entranced with the blonde boy. Her face flushes as she beams at him, "We would love that!"

"We have enough friends," you simultaneously reply.

"She's kidding," your friend nervously chuckles, elbowing you in your ribs.

The blonde boy laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I'm Steve. My friend there is Bucky."

As if on cue, Bucky saunters up beside Steve with an equally arrogant grin. He tips his head at each of you. "Hello, ladies."

Your friend nods at the two of them, an ear to ear grin taking up her entire face. "It's nice to meet you, Steve, Bucky."

The brunette's eyes flash over to you, speaking through that infuriating smirk, "Pleasure's ours."

"Would you ladies like to join us for a Coke?" Steve offers.

"We'd love to!" she immediately replies.

You shoot your friend an intense, incredulous glare. "I'm sorry, could you excuse us for a second?"

"Sure thing." Steve nods, ambling away from you and your friend to give you a moment of privacy.

Bucky doesn't move an inch. He stands before you with that same arrogant smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I'm good right here."

"Fine," you scoff, speaking as bluntly as you can. Despite your polite upbringing, you you find don't care about offending him in the slightest. "We are not staying here!"

"Come on," she pleads. "What's the harm?"

"Where's the good in staying?" you shoot back.

"They're just so handsome," she fawns, looking over her shoulder to give a coy wave to the blonde boy. "And there's one for the both of us, it's fate!"

"It's not fate. They're nothing but trouble."

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes, "You remember that I'm still right here, right?"

You shoot a glare at Bucky. "I know."

He playfully clutches his chest. "You're hurtin' my feelings, Doll."

You can feel the anger raising your blood's temperature. You don't like how quickly he's gotten underneath your skin. "I'm not your Doll."

"Princess?" he suggests with an infuriating wag of his eyebrows.

There's an embarrassingly large part of you that wants to stamp your foot at him and yell at him to stop teasing you. You keep it together just enough to contain that visceral reaction you're having to Bucky Barnes. Mostly. "I'm not your anything!"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "What did I ever do to you, Princess?"

Your eyes narrow in accusation. "I know your type."

"Charming? Irresistibly handsome?"

"Horrendously arrogant," you seethe at him. You turn back to your friend, only to find her missing, "Now, can we please go-"

"Your friend ran off the second you were focused on me."

Your eyes flicker to behind Bucky to your friend, who sure enough is enthralled in a conversation with Steve. "I was not focused on you!"

"Then why didn't you notice your friend runnin' away from you?"

"You're incorrigible."

The corner of Bucky's lips twitch up. "Didn't they teach you in that finishing school that it's not polite to insult people who are tryin' to be your friend?"

"And how would you know that I went to finishing school?"

He quirks an eyebrow at you like the answer is obvious. His eyes rake over you. From the way you hold yourself. To the dresses that oozed quiet luxury. You and Bucky were as different as night and day. "I know an uptown girl when I see one."

"And I know trouble when I see it," you shoot back. "And you Brooklyn boys are nothing but trouble."

It only gets worse from there. After that first interaction, your friend in fully infatuated with Steve Rogers. There is no tearing her away from him.

And that means, as your friend's dutiful alibi, you were dragged down to Brooklyn far more than you ever wanted.

And worst of all, it meant you spent most of your free time in the presence of Bucky Barnes.

"Please, just be nice," your friend begs as you trudge up to their garage. "I'd settle for polite even."

You scoff at her, rolling your eyes, "I'm always polite - just like I'm always nice."

"Not to Bucky, you're not."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, walking into the garage. Your friend takes off, immediately falling into the arms of Steve Rogers. Leaving you with Bucky Barnes to sit with him on the the couch that's become your most constant companion on days like today. As you walk past Bucky, you snipe, "James."

Bucky quirks a brow, smirking at you, "Oh, so now I'm James?"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

He walks away from the bike he spends most of his time working on, snatching a rag from his tool bench and wiping his hands of motor grease. Your eyes involuntarily wander to his hands, the care he puts into wiping each and every one of his fingers.

You stare for a second too long for Bucky not to notice you staring at his hands. "Remind me to thank Steve for tellin' ya that."

You roll your eyes, finally snapping out of it. "It's far better than the alternative."

He flicks the rag over, resting it on his shoulder. "So you like my name?"

You softly snort as you settle onto the couch. "I didn't say that. I said it was better than the alternative."

That smirk only gets even bigger. "What else do ya like about me?"

You roll your eyes. "Not a thing."

He settles into the couch beside you. Far too close for your liking. You can almost feel the rough denim of his jeans through your skirt. "I just love these conversations of ours."

"I don't."

His entire torso turns towards you, mischief and amusement gleaming in those blue eyes, "I mean, why would I want warmth and affection when I could have blind hatred?"

"It's not blind hatred." In spite of easily Bucky gets under your skin, you can't deny just how unfairly handsome he is. Even now, you find yourself lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "It's perfectly reasonable contempt."

He gently runs a finger down your cheek. "I love when you talk smart to me."

You swat his hand away from your face. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not!" Bucky insists. "I really love it! I know it's just your way of flirting with me!"

You scoff, making no attempt to hide your offense, "I am not flirting with you!"

He tilts his head at you, that arrogant smirk once again tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, just admit it, Doll. You're a little sweet on me."

"I am not your Doll!" You fly up out of your seat with an indignant huff. "And I most certainly am not sweet on you!"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when I walk around here without a shirt. Or the way you were staring at my hands just now. What exactly were you picturin' my hands doin'?"

"I was not picturing anything." Your cheeks flame as you continue to bicker back and forth with him. Sure, he was possibly the most gorgeous man you'd ever laid eyes on. And yes, he could be incredibly charming. And sometimes, you found yourself staring at him in an not so innocent way. But you hated him. He infuriated you to no end. "And I was not staring!"

The grin is practically splitting his face. "And you've definitely thought about kissin' me."

"I would rather walk from here to Jersey than kiss you."

He slides up off the couch, taking a long step towards you. "You've got a hell of a temper, you know that?"

You refuse to back down. You press an accusing finger into his chest. You can't help but notice just how firm the muscles underneath that white t-shirt are. "I just think you're real good at pushing my buttons."

"Real good?" Bucky teases. "I think Brooklyn is startin' to rub off on you."

"You know what I think?" Your chest starts to heave with the anger and frustration you feel towards Bucky Barnes. "I think that you're the last person I would ever let rub off on me. I think that you're an arrogant smart ass that likes to spend his day running his mouth."

"And I think you're a repressed priss that couldn't take what she wanted 'less it's handed to her on a silver platter."

"You wouldn't know a damn thing about what I want."

"You wanna know what I think..." He leans closer, lowering himself to your eye level. "I think that you're pissed off because you know deep down those punk ass rich boys will never make ya happy, I think you're pissed off 'cause you're bored, and I think you're pissed off 'cause you want me - even if you'll never admit it."

You don't have a response to that. There's not a single word that comes to mind. You don't think you've ever been this mad before.

And because you can't think of a single word to assuage your heaving chest and boiling blood, you do something that a polite, good girl like you would never even dreaming of doing. Before you can think, you find your hand opening and winding back.

Before you can even make contact with his cheek, he catches your hand, gripping your wrist between his warm, calloused hand. He hauls you forward until you stumble into his chest.

For a moment, you can almost hear a pin drop. The tension is so thick the only air in the room Bucky's breath dancing across your lips. "I think I'm gonna kiss you."

A soft breath stutters from your lips. "And I think I'm gonna let you."

You weren't sure what it was, but after that first kiss, you couldn't get enough of your Brooklyn boy. Even after your friend and Steve had mostly fizzled out, you couldn't get enough of him.

You waited for the moment that they all talked about, the moment when you had your fill of the boy from the wrong side of tracks, when your wild oats were sufficiently sowed, but it never came.

Every time you laid eyes on him, the seal on your fate only solidified more and more. The more you saw him, the more you wanted him. And the more sure you were that you would never be able to let him go.

You weren't a stranger to the boredom and monotony of your upper echelon life, but this was different. This wasn't boredom, he wasn't a distraction. From the moment you met Bucky, you lost all interest in the upper echelon of it all.

Suddenly, you don't care what your friends think, what your parents would think. Suddenly, you were throughly repulsed by the thought of marrying one of those repressed, trust fund babies that littered your street.

And even your friends, the same ones that lived off their fleeting attention, didn't understand.

Your friend rolls her eyes again, a sigh of irritation leaving her lips as you ready to go meet Bucky, "Are you really going back up there?"

"You're the reason I met him in the first place!"

"I know. I know," she groans, clearly disappointed that you hadn't lost interest in Bucky like she had with Steve. "And I'm happy for you! I am! I just I want to make sure..."

Her tone finally gets your full attention. You put your bag down on the table, your eyebrow pulled together, "Make sure what?"

"You're just sowing wild oats, right?"

Your entire face puckers with distaste, "What?"

"That sounded bad," she backtracks, a guilty look painting her face. She takes a deep breath, resting a condescending hand on your shoulder. "You just - you know your future isn't with Bucky, right?"

You shake her hand off your shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"He's from a different world than we are. You know that."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," you scoff. "I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Come on, he's not exactly the sort of guy you can bring home to your parents."

You snort, turning away from her, "I have to go."

"You know I'm right!" she calls after you.

You didn't know that. In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you saw why he was exactly the right person to bring home to your parents. He was everything you could ever bring yourself to hope for and more. Sure, he was different than you and your family, but he was a good man. He was perfect for you.

Surely, your parents could see that. Surely, they could see how good he was for you.

So that's exactly what you were going to do.

Bucky sighs against your lips, "I missed ya."

You don't know when that happened, but you've come to find a comfort in the scent of the faded leather of his jacket, in the feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing dangerously high on your upper thigh.

In the backseat of his beloved car, you curl closer into his side, resting your head on his chest, "Me too."

He kisses the top of your head, watching as you stare off into the distance, "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

You pull back slightly, lifting your head off his chest. With a furrowed brow, you ask him, "How serious are you about me?"

"Dead serious," he replies in an instant.

You lightly swat his chest. "Quit playing."

"'M not playin'," he swears. He does an 'x' over his heart, "Cross my heart."

His answer gives you all the reassurance you need. All there was to do was ask him. Still, there was a hesitancy. You worry that this will just make him realize that you two might just be insurmountably, irreconcilably different. You decide that the best way to ask is just ask. "Then what would you say about meeting my parents?"

"I'd love to," Bucky coolly answers.

You can't help the way your face lights up with hope. "Really?"

"Of course. Anything for my girl."

You really like the way that sounds. His girl. You could get used to being his girl.

The look on your face is worth it all to Bucky. He only hopes you don't see the anxiety in his expression.

He wasn't oblivious to how different your worlds were. He knew there was a good chance that this wouldn't last forever. It didn't really matter what he wanted or how much he was willing to fight for you, he knew the reality of it all.

He couldn't offer you half of what someone in your neighborhood could. Your worlds couldn't be more different.

And he's never been more aware of it than on the eve of meeting your parents.

Steve smirks at Bucky as he fiddles with his tie again. "You're really seein' this through, aren't you?"

Bucky smacks Steve upside his head. "Don't be a jerk."

"I'm just sayin'," Steve shrugs, settled into the couch of Bucky's family home. "I'm happy for ya, Buck. You really like this girl."

"I wouldn't be dressed like this for anyone else. Are you sure this is right?" Bucky tugs at his tie again. Maybe it was that the suit hadn't seen the light of day in a few years and was a little more snug than he remembered. Or maybe it was just that he'd only dressed like this for funerals and weddings, but everything about his getup today made him feel like a fraud. He was sure if your parents saw him like this, they'd see right through him. "I feel like I'm goin' to a school dance."

"Where does she live again?"

Bucky tries his best to hide his wince. He'd never been to your side of town, but he'd heard stories. Sure, most of them were made up, but there had to be some truth buried in the tall tales. "Upper West Side."

Steve pats his shoulder. "Stick with the tie, Buck."

He listens to Steve's advice and sticks with the tie. As he walks through your neighborhood, seeing houses bigger than entire apartment buildings on his block that line your street, he's pretty confident in trusting Steve up until the moment he sees you.

Your smile stutters as you see him waiting outside the gate of your home. It was just his luck that your house was one of the biggest on the block. Your eyes trail up and down Bucky's uncharacteristic attire. "What are you wearing?"

His heart sinks. He looks down, patting his blazer and tie. "Am I - Am I not this thing right? I knew it - I told Steve -"

"No, no," you quickly interject. "You look great! I've just never seen you... like this."

"What's wrong with this?" Bucky hedges.

Your soft smile up at him is the only thing soothing his knotted stomach. "Nothing, I - I just wanted them to meet you, to meet the Bucky that I know and - and I want them to know you. Not whoever this is."

"I - I didn't think they would like that Bucky very much," Bucky confesses.

It doesn't escape you that he's nervous, especially as he fiddles with this tie over and over again. You're well aware of how intimidating this all is. Even as someone who grew up in this social circle, in the thick of the upper echelon, you still found yourself scared of doing and saying the wrong thing.

You knew he was only trying to fit in as best as he could. Still, you missed the smell of his leather jacket, the waft of motor oil that often clung to his skin. "Well, I like you the way you are. Greaser and all."

"Thanks." It's comforting to him. Still, as his eyes rove over your house, he can't help but be glad he listened to both Steve and his mother. He holds out the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "My Ma told me to bring these for your Ma."

An endeared smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. He was really trying to win over your parents. He really was serious about this - about you. "My mother will love this."

"Your mother," Bucky corrects himself, doing his best to tame his Brooklyn twang.

"Just be yourself," you assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you make your way up the long driveway. "No one else, just you."

"Any other tips?"

"If you run out of things to talk about ask my father about his cars. He collects them."

It takes everything in Bucky not to gape like a fish out of water. "He collects... cars?"

You ignore his question, continuing to fill Bucky in on your parents, "And my mother, well, she's a terrible gossip. If you can get her talking about her friends, you've won her over."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Just relax. They'll love you."

As he walks into your home, greeted by a man wearing a nicer suit than he is who offered to take his coat from him, Bucky's not quite sure he believes you.

Your heels click against the sleek marble flooring as you guide him through your home. He holds on tight to your hand, half afraid that you'll let go and he'll get lost in the labyrinth of pristine beige hallways.

Your father is the first to greet Bucky in your living room. He extends a hand out to Bucky. "You must be the boy we've heard so much about."

"It's nice to meet you both," Bucky returns the firm handshake before turning to your mother with the warmest smile he can muster through his anxiety. "You have a lovely home, ma'am. I brought these for you."

She takes the bouquet from Bucky's hand. "Oh, that's very kind of you..."

"Oh, it's Bucky," he supplies.

"Bucky?" your mother dubiously repeats. "How unique..."

"It's James, actually," Bucky corrects himself, already feeling himself getting flustered. "James Buchanan Barnes. 's where Bucky comes from."

Your mother nods, offering a tight smile, "How lovely."

As your mother hands off the flowers to one of the wait staff, he can't help but already feel like he's already made that dreaded bad first impression.

As though you can see the despair forming in the pit of his stomach and dampening the glimmer in his blue eyes, you give his hand a squeeze along with a smile.

"Dinner is ready," your mother announces. "Why don't we make our way to the dining room?"

"That sounds wonderful," you beam, leading Bucky into the next room. You stutter to a stop just before the dining table. You look at the table as you take your seat, your eyebrows furrowed at something that Bucky hasn't quite caught on to. "Mother? I thought we agreed on a more simple menu tonight."

As you speak you reach under the table, giving Bucky's hand an apologetic squeeze. Just from your inflection, Bucky can tell what awaits him will not be pleasant.

"Nonsense." She dismissively waves you off. "We have a guest."

"We talked about this," you admonish. "You promised."

"Bucky?" your mother calls. "Do you mind having a more formal dinner? I know it might be a tad unusual for you."

"Mother," you sharply warn.

"Um, no, ma'am," Bucky awkwardly lilts. "That sounds lovely."

A self satisfied smirk settles on your mother's face. "See? It's fine."

"Why are there so many forks?" Bucky whispers under his breath.

"Just work your way in," you reply as quietly as you can.

"Do you change forks every bite or somethin'?" It's half an attempt at a joke, half an honest question.

"In between courses."

"Courses?"

Before you can answer Bucky's question, your mother is already beginning her interrogation. "So, James, tell us about yourself."

"There's not much to tell," Bucky replies. "I was born and raised down in Brooklyn."

Your father snorts, "Really?"

You're not quite sure if Bucky catches the sarcastic lilt to your father's question or if he really does just try to rise above it. It's hard to tell with how he rolls with the punches. "Yes, sir."

"Any siblings?" your mother asks.

"I'm the oldest of four, ma'am."

"Any plans for your life?" your father finally pipes in.

"Dad," you hiss.

Your father shrugs, "It's an honest question."

Once again, it rolls off of Bucky's back. "Well, I'm workin' at a garage right now. Me and my friend, Steve, we're hopin' to buy it out. We've just about saved enough between the two of us to buy it from the ol' man when he's ready to retire."

"A man with a plan. I like that."

"Thank you, sir." You're sure that you hear Bucky's sigh of relief as he finds his footing. You can practically see his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your daughter tells me that you have an impressive collection yourself."

You weren't entirely sure how he pulled it off, but by the end of the night, Bucky is talking to your parents like they're old friends.

You're not even sure why you're that surprised, you hated him up until the moment you succumbed to his charm.

As the evening comes to a close, he stands in the doorway, shaking your father's hand again, offering your mother that charming grin once more, "Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious."

"You're welcome back anytime, James."

"Thank you." You're almost shocked at your mother's open invitation. He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "I'll see ya later."

The three of you stand in the foyer of your house as Bucky walks down the steps and down the driveway with his hands shoved in his pockets. You look up to your father, face filled with hope. "So?"

"He's a nice boy."

You're not sure your grin can get any bigger. "I really like him."

"You'll grow out of it."

Your heart sinks the moment the words leave your father's mouth. "What?"

"It can't come soon enough," your mother groans. "You're far too good for him."

"You don't know him."

"We know his type, dear," your mother condescendingly sighs. "And good girls like you don't belong with boys like that, but I do think it was sweet of you to invite your little infatuation to dinner."

You feel like all the air has been knocked out of you. For a moment tonight, you really thought they were coming around. You truly thought it would all work out for the best. "Infatuation?"

"That's what this is, right?" your father asks, concern painting his expression when he sees the furiously determined look in your face. "You're just... rebelling?"

You look up at your father, shaking your head. "No, no, I'm not just rebelling."

You fought with them the whole night before you went to find him the very next day. They threatened you with everything they could think of. When that didn't work, they bribed you with everything they could think of. You didn't care for any of it.

The moment you see him, you know he knows. You're not sure if he realized it the moment he walked out of your door or if it took him a quick recollection of the night to realize it, but he knows all the same. It looks like he hasn't slept a wink. A deep frown replaces his usual grin. He looks entirely and totally distraught.

He notices you the moment you walk up to his garage just like you did all those times before.

This time, it's obvious is different. There aren't barbed words or verbal jabs. You don't bound into his arms. Even Steve offers you a sad twitch of his lips.

Bucky watches you for a long moment before you break the silence. He reaches into his pocket, lighting a cigarette in between his fingers. "Hi."

"They hated me, right?" He doesn't waste words. Your lips press together in a tight line. He takes a large drag from his cigarette. You can't remember the last time you saw him smoking. He shakes his head, hissing under his breath, "Damn it..."

"Bucky?"

He takes another large pull from his cigarette. Even from feet away, you can smell the nicotine in the air. "Just do it. I understand."

"What?"

"That's why you're here, right? Just get it over with."

Your eyebrows furrow. "I don't understand."

"I'm not an idiot, alright?" he spits. "I know I didn't pass their little test, so just call it already."

"Is that really what you thought last night was?"

"What else would you call last night? 'Cause I think I was the butt of the joke from beginnin' to end."

"You were not the butt of the joke, Bucky."

"Oh, please, I fell face first into their punchline."

You suck in a shaky breath, both your own hurt and the cloud of smoke around Bucky burning at your throat, "Is that what you think of me? That I was tryin' to set you up?"

"Yes! No- No! I just - I - Don't you see it?"

"See what?" you demand.

"That I'm not good enough for you!" he desperately exclaims, tossing his cigarette on the pavement. "And everyone else already knows it! Last night proved that!"

"My parents are assholes, Bucky. I came here to apologize for them, to tell you that I don't care what they think."

His voice quiets, the anger melts off his words until all that's left is a heartbreaking sincerity, "You should. You deserve so much more than what I can give you."

"They don't know you, but I do." You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. "And I think you've got everything I want. I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

"Do you mean that?"

"Every word."

"What did I do to deserve you? My perfect girl." He kisses the back of the hand he hods, using it to tug you closer to him. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him. "What?"

You wrinkle your nose at him. "I hate the smell of smoke."

"I'll quit," he immediately replies.

"You'll quit smoking? Just like that?"

"That surprise you?"

"It's just - Maybe you Brooklyn boys aren't as tough as you think you are," you tease.

He smirks. "Maybe we're not. Maybe I'm not - but I think it's because I'm in love with an Uptown girl."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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sqgeism · 16 days ago

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love mail — 🍒 ⨾ if we are gonna get mad at anyone BLAME @sillyseraphie IT WAS HER IDEA!!! lol hi seraphie hope u like it (HEAVILY inspired by frieren.) listen to promise & serendipity by laufey while writing so give it a shot! (*･ω･) tagging alex cus he likes mydei @strwbrydreamz check comments for a surprise!

GRIEF

/ɡrēf/ • noun

deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death.

mydei watched the dirt bury his dearest friend.

he listens to the sound of shovels digging into the ground, and the thud of soil against your coffin, while trying to convince himself that this isn't the reality of his world.

he wants to stand tall, to be that unbreakable wall, but he fails. just as he had failed you that night, as you took that hit for him in the back—and unknowingly saving his life.

and to think he barely knew you, only fifteen years together and you sacrificed your life for a man who was basically a stranger. there was so much you didn't know about him—so much he wanted to tell, and now nothing at all.

the last bit of earth covers your casket and he lets out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding, as a choked out sob finally escapes him. it was then when the realization was coming in waves, drowning him, with no way to swim out of it.

you were truly gone.

he spent so much time with you, yet so little.

mydei can't remember what life was like before he met you, like it's all a blur.

like he only started living with you. which explains why you're always there, in every good and bad time—in every memory.

people built statues of mydeimos to pay tribute to his strength, yet he wishes they were all of you. he wouldn't have been able to perservere if it wasn't for your smile.

for all the nights you spent caring for him.

for all the whispers of secrets, ones you've carried to your grave. and so will he.

for all the times his fingers brushed over yours, and you quietly took his hand when it did.

for all the love for you that he hadn't realized he held, and still does.

and.. maybe it would've been nice, to have at least one statue of you—so he wouldn't be able to forget.

but he never will, not a single thing about you. even if he doesn't know it.

because there is a place in his heart had been perfectly carved to your silhouette, an impossible gap to fill. an impossible figure to forget.

grief was such a silly thing. it was once love, but now with no place to go.

#ㅤ 𐔌᭥ᩙ༉ㅤnew flower bloomed ! :ೃ࿔𔓘 #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #mydei x reader #mydeimos x reader #mydei x you #mydeimos x you

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miryum · 2 years ago

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A Green and Silver Ring (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

An arranged marriage between you and Mattheo, one that might lead to something beautiful

Word Count: 10.3k

I know I haven't posted in a long time but I have a plan trust the process. Also, this is me coming out and saying that I love Mattheo Riddle and he's amazing

Warnings: Swearing, bad and manipulative parenting from both Mattheo and reader’s parents, a lot of misogyny (a bit from Mattheo but he gets better by a lot and it’s not that bad), arguments, Tom isn’t Mattheo’s brother and Tom is a creep, arranged marriage, one bed trope, enemies to lovers, greek mythology reference, talk of kids, needing kids to carry on family lines, and kids. Mistress is the feminine term for master (so reader isn’t Mattheo’s side piece when I refer to her as mistress), old timey talk a bit, reader is a bookworm

From the desk of Ginevra

My dearest friend,

My parents have informed me of your engagement. I was ecstatic, yet surprised, when I heard the news. I was of the assumption that your parents were allowing you to choose your husband as your family line is secure in your brother and his wife. Yet, once I learned who your husband-to-be is, I was trepidatious.

My thoughts are with you, my darling friend, and I pray for you to write to me the moment you get my letter.

I hate to break the news, but you and your fiancé are the talk of high society. Never before have two such families been intertwined. Even I have had to scold my brothers for their gossip. They seem to forget that our families are close friends.

I do not ask why your parents have made such a decision. I know they are intelligent adults and surely must have a motive, but I admit that I am blind in that regard. Your engagement seems sudden and unwarranted to me. When questioned, my mother sighed and said I would understand when I grew older. My mother continues to baffle me. I have borne two children and a third on the way! If I am not mature now, I better gain some knowledge quickly.

Always remember that I am by your side. If you ever need anything, my door is always open to you. I am sure Harry will agree.

I love you, my friend.

Ginny

From the office of Lorenzo

Miss. L/n,

I believe we’ve never been formally introduced. I’m saddened to say that this letter is as formal as we’ll get - at least until your wedding. I am sure you must be taciturn and mercurial as of now. My father has told me much about you and I believe we’ll make excellent friends and confidants in our hectic world.

You’re to be my new half-sister, aren’t you? My relatives and friends are petulant to meet you.

Before any rumours (either about myself or your fiancé) hit your ears, I’ll put a rest to them. Bellatrix, your fiancé’s mother, had an affair with my father. They produced me and in return, I have the privilege of being your fiancé’s half-brother.

Being a bastard child, I’m no stranger to being ostracised and ridiculed. To be blunt, I’m sure that you will be ostracised alongside me and I believe that is one reason we can connect.

For rumours of my half-brother, I simply say this: do not fear him. He relishes in the consternation he places in other people, yet when he heard he was to marry you, I saw panic in his eyes like no other. It seems the tables have turned. He is hesitant to be wed, but you are not the problem. He simply doesn’t want to have the responsibility of another’s life on his. Your fiancé is used to belittling people - not supporting them as a husband should.

Any questions you have about your fiancé and my half-brother (whom in case I didn’t make clear, are one and the same), refer to me without any qualms. I am eager to meet you and hopefully make your transition into the Riddle family smoother.

I am well aware you have also lived your life in the upper echelons of society. But, as I’m sure you know, there are multiple circles in our complicated community. The L/ns, the Weasleys, and the Potters, for example, have grown their fortunes truthfully and innocently. They have earned the respect of their people and those whom they employ. The Riddles, Blacks, and Berkshires, on the other hand, have climbed the ranks in unconventional means and by skipping a few rungs on the ladder. They thrive and make their living on the terror and duress they cause those under them.

I’m looking forward to making your acquaintance.

Lorenzo Berkshire

P.S. I hope I haven’t scared you off.

From the office of L/n

Daughter,

You’ll be pleased to hear the engagement has gone through. Your mother and I met your fiancé last night. He seems like a nice man. He will be able to provide for you. His family is influential.

We will return home late tomorrow evening. You will depart for Riddle Estate in a week. Begin packing.

Your father

From the desk of Ginevra

Y/n,

You worry me with your lack of communication. Usually, you can’t wait to gossip with me. We have such fun at dinners and balls, yet with the most important aspect of yourself, you don’t respond. I’m simply worried, my friend. Are you alright? I can envision you curled in your bed, not letting anyone, even your nursemaid, into your room. Please do not let your impending marriage affect your state of health. It will turn out alright. Everyone I know (even me!) had apprehensions about their marriage. And with everyone I know, it turned out alright.

Misters Sirius and Remus visited Harry and I the day before last. They came to see James and Albus, but I know there was a hidden reason as well. They know of our friendship and came to ask if the rumours are true. As much as my husband adores them, Sirius in particular can be prone to gossip. The pair tittered and tsked when I told them of your fiancé. Sirius wishes to distance himself from his family, and I know he has pre-existing thoughts of the Black family, and by extension, the Riddles.

Sometimes I take a moment to gaze at the family tree upon my drawing room wall. It is full of interconnected lines and squiggles that sometimes, it makes my head hurt! The web of family ties is complicated and if we’re not somehow related already, I know that we will be once your marriage takes place. It seems the Black family spreads its roots into the Weasley family and the Riddle family- the latter of which you’ll soon be synonymous with.

Give yourself some grace. Your fiancé falls far from the tree; I am sure of it.

Please write to me. I need to make sure my closest friend is doing well.

Best wishes,

Ginny

P.S. Hermione wishes to inform you that, from what she’s heard, your Mr. Riddle is quite attractive. I have yet to hear any of the rumours myself, but at least your husband will be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it will make the marriage more bearable.

***

Mattheo strode leisurely through Riddle Manor. It was one of the many estates his family owned, and it was soon to be officially his. Just as soon as he married the L/n girl.

The manor was spacious, which Mattheo couldn’t help but detest. How was he and a wife supposed to fill this void of empty rooms and dark halls? He knew servants and cooks would move in, but they wouldn’t occupy the dozens of upper rooms that were vacated.

For a brief moment, Mattheo couldn’t help but envision a set of children running around the halls. One of the children would run up to him, shouting, “Papa! Papa!” Mattheo would scoop the child up, grinning, and would carry them to their room. The room would be bright and cheerful, and maybe, just maybe, you would be sitting on a settee, cradling a newborn or helping an older child with their school work.

But for now, the room was dark and uninviting and he had yet to meet his future wife. He had seen a portrait of the L/n family and while they were in lavish, colourful clothing, Mr. and Mrs. L/n seemed cold and stoic - just like his parents. The children, an older son and younger daughter (whom he presumed to be you), seemed kinder and by their body language, Mattheo could tell that the two siblings were close.

Mattheo slowly made his way down the hall. There were three wings of the manor; two were residential and the other was designed for taking guests. The East Wing - in which he and Miss. L/n would stay - was also fit with an office for him. He was expected to take over half of the family business once he got married. The West Wing would remain empty for now, sans for a large library and the furniture in the bedrooms.

The boy knew that his bride was to arrive later that day. She would stay at Riddle Estate until the end of the week. Just three short days before they were to be wed in name. Mattheo would move into Riddle Manor tonight, giving servants time to wipe the dust off of tables, shine the silverware, and fluff the pillows.

Mattheo walked the halls of his new home. His mind was devoid of any thoughts. Perhaps it was simply because he was always numb. Even when he heard of his engagement, Mattheo didn’t make a fuss. He didn’t remember thinking anything. Nothing such as ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!’ or even, ‘I can’t believe mother and father are arranging my marriage! She better be obedient.’

No, Mattheo had thought nothing of the sort. He had spent his childhood quietly observing his father and mother, noticing the amount of fear they could inflict on people just by silence. You didn’t have to be loud and dramatic to be powerful. You simply couldn’t be afraid to follow up on your promises - however deadly they were.

The only question Mattheo had asked when Bellatrix informed him of his engagement was, “and what do we gain from the L/n’s?”

Bellatrix had shot him an callous and apathetic look. “Do not ask questions you needn’t the answers to, boy.”

Mattheo had glowered, but shut his mouth.

As he neared the foyer, Mattheo couldn’t help but think how marriage was a component in all aspects of his life. When he got married to the L/n girl, he would inherit a portion of his father’s estates, company, and wealth. Mattheo chucked to himself. Maybe he should’ve gotten married sooner.

***

“Pray tell, why weren’t you here when she arrived?” Bellatrix snarled as she gripped Mattheo’s arm. Her nails dug into his suit as she dragged him towards the drawing room.

“I was busy,” Mattheo replied harshly. Love was not a thing that came instinctively to his family.

“Doing what? Planning your suidide?” Bellatrix scoffed. “I would march to the Underworld and choke Hades to bring you back.” Mattheo glanced down at his mother, hesitantly surprised. But he knew better than to raise his hopes and dreams. “We need this contract with the L/n’s,” Bellatrix continued and Mattheo’s jaw ticked. Of course. She didn’t love him; she never had. Her son was purely business. He should’ve known better.

“Maybe if you would tell me what the L/n’s provide for us,” Mattheo pulled Bellatrix back before she threw open the door to where you were. “Then I would be more complacent.”

Bellatrix sneered. “You think you’re smart, boy. You think you have everything figured out in that pretty little head of yours. But remember: you’re nothing without the Riddle family name backing you up.” She paused and licked her lips. “But if you must know,” Bellatrix sighed, giving into Mattheo. “The L/n’s just came into some very… lucrative land that we could gain from if you marry Miss. Y/n L/n.”

Mattheo’s eyes flickered to the drawing room door. After a moment, he asked, “is that her name? Y/n?”

Bellatrix stared at him, aghast. “You didn’t bother to learn her name?!” She scoffed. “With a son like you…”

She pushed open the drawing room doors and Mattheo trudged after her, muttering, “at least I know her name now.”

You had been waiting for seven minutes and thirty nine seconds in the drawing room of Riddle Estate, the trackage of time dependent on the old grandfather clock standing ominously in the corner. Its pendulum swung back and forth continuously as its second hand ticked by. Mrs. Riddle had left seven minutes and thirty nine seconds ago to fetch her son.

While the room was perfectly clean, not a speck of dust on even the highest chandelier, it was still a cold and morose room, yet oddly epochal. The wood was the darkest mahogany you had ever seen and the lights cast odd shadows on the dark green wallpaper that had inlays of gold.

Your teacup that you were trying to hold steady was filled with a sad excuse for tea. There was a ring of gold around the mouth of the teacup. On the table beside you, a notch that looked as if someone dug a knife into the surface caught your attention. It was the little things like this that you noticed when you had nothing else to do. Your mind was trying to distract you.

The door then swung open and there stood your fiancé, his stare daring you to oppose him.

“Uh,” you stood, your teacup and saucer still in hand. You quickly placed them on the table, right over the knife nick. “Y/n L/n,” you introduced yourself. You bowed your head in an informal curtsy.

Mattheo’s eyes flickered over your face. “Mattheo Riddle,” he said coldly. His voice was practically velvet. You didn’t mean to look him up and down, but you couldn’t help it. He was to be your husband, after all.

Mattheo’s hair coiled at the end and his eyes were just as dark as his curls. His nose had a scarred cut on it that looked as if it was just beginning to heal. Your fiancés cheekbones were practically sculpted from marble and for a moment, you believed that the gods had simply breathed life into a statue. Did this make you Pygmalion and Mattheo Galatea?

If it weren’t for their lethal eyes and stern posture, perhaps more would be friendly to the Riddles.

Mattheo spoke, “you’re to be my fiancée.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” You had the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end, but you bit your tongue.

Bellatrix hissed something to Mattheo and thrust a small object into his hands. Mattheo rolled his eyes and stalked towards you. “My family ring,” he grumbled. He held out an intricate silver ring with three bands interweaving. A green jewel cut into a thin diamond shape sat steadily in the middle. “It has been in the Riddle family for generations. It’s tradition to pass it down to the wife of the firstborn son. And now that is you…”

He trailed off and handed the ring to you, it laying flat on his palm. You took it from him, trying to minimise contact with Mattheo. You nodded in thanks and slid it into your ring finger.

It seemed too concrete to fathom.

Mattheo stared at the ring on your finger. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “My… wife,” he murmured halfheartedly.

***

Three weeks had passed since the wedding and it was as if you had never gotten married in the first place. Yes, it was unsettling to wake up in a bed that wasn’t your own next to a man that you were supposed to call your own. But other than necessary, Mattheo had hardly uttered a word to you.

In the three weeks you had stayed there, you had seen Mattheo a total of twenty eight times, including mornings and nights when you were forced to sleep in the same bed.

Your mornings, afternoons, and nights were all incredibly boring. You took long meals, pushing your food around. Sometimes you just sat by the window and watched the wind blow bits of grass and dirt past the window. The servants were still extracting the dust between the couch cushions and you tried to stay out of the way, but it only made you feel more isolated.

Mattheo was holed up in his office day in and day out. He had now inherited a large portion of his father’s company and Mattheo was determined to uphold the honour bestowed upon him. He had drafted contracts, sold and bought land, and even hosted a few dinner parties for his associates.

You detested the dinner parties. Thankfully, Mattheo had yet to invite you to one - hell, he had yet to speak to you about the dinner parties. You had learned of the first dinner party when you had wandered downstairs one late evening because you were thirsty. You had stared at the group of strangers, all dressed in elegance, as they stared back at you in your night clothes. Not saying a word, you had sighed and returned upstairs.

You hadn’t been eager for the marriage, but wouldn't it befit Mattheo to show some affection? Or at least acknowledge your presence?

While you had continuously tried to get your husband to open up to you, his answers had been short and venomous.

It had been a long, monotonous day for you. You had returned to the master bedroom about two hours earlier than you normally would have if you were at home.

With the wealth that you came from, the opulence was sure to be evident, but you had underestimated the Riddle family’s prestige. When Mattheo had first shown you your shared bedroom, you had to allow a flicker of surprise break through your facade. The bedroom was larger than any room in your old home and had a large bed in the middle. The lamps on the bedside table were always dimly lit and the design of the room was the same as the rest of the house - dark and bereft of love and care.

Your hair had been brushed enough, but you kept brushing simply for something to do while Mattheo finished up in the bathroom. Mattheo walked out of the ensuite with a towel wrapped around his waist. His curls were plastered to his forehead and a bead of water ran down his sternum.

Your eyes flickered to his figure through the mirror, taking in the dips and curves of Mattheo’s muscles as he silently got ready for bed. You tore your gaze away, berating yourself.

You built up your courage and tried to think of a conversation starter. You commented, “my parents wrote to me today.” After no reply from Mattheo, you continued, “they asked me when we would give them grandchildren.” You set your hairbrush down and stared at Mattheo through the mirror, looking for some sort of reaction.

Mattheo hummed noncommittally and put on some sleep pants. He used his towel to begin drying his hair. “It would be behoove us to produce some heirs,” he spoke. His tone was dismissive, as if children were nothing more than an obligation or duty to fulfil.

“Right,” you muttered, knowing that an uninterested reaction was all you were going to get out of him.

You stood and moved towards the bed. “Goodnight,” you whispered, turning off the bedside lamp and tucking yourself into bed. Mattheo was still putting on his nightclothes and had yet to get into bed.

As you turned off the light and got into bed, Mattheo finished drying himself off and slid into his own pyjamas. He sat down beside you, but didn't bother turning off his own lamp. Instead, he laid against the headboard, reading a book. "Goodnight," he finally mumbled, not even looking at you.

You curled into your blanket. After a moment, you asked quietly, “what book are you reading?”

He looked at you over the top of his book. "None of your business," he replied curtly.

You simply uttered, “okay.”

Mattheo felt an unwanted and unusual feeling root itself deep in his stomach. He scoffed and said sarcastically, "fine. Go ahead and keep asking questions all night long if it amuses you so." He opened his book again and pretended to read.

A longing and lonely pang resonated in your chest at his harsh words. You didn’t respond and instead turned your face into your pillow. You had known that your marriage was to be loveless, but it still hurt at every unspoken word. Perhaps, if you had been five years younger when you married Mattheo, your spirit would still be alive with the juvenile belief that you could stand up to him.

Mattheo huffed and his gaze turned up to stare at the wall ahead of him. “If you’re so miserable, then why don’t you just leave?” he snapped, not even bothering to hide his bitterness. “I am sure your family would simply love to have you back.” He flipped another page in his book, not even bothering to look at the printed words.

“I never said I was miserable,” you answered quietly, even though Mattheo knew it wasn’t true. Perhaps, though, you believed it to be true. You took a steadying breath, closing your eyes.

Your husband smirked and leaned against the headboard. “What do you call your attitude, then? Why are you so downtrodden and defeated? Surely, you can’t blame me for being frustrated by it.” He knew that he should be taking account of making you feel this way, but he still tried to justify his behaviour.

“Goodnight,” you reiterated.

Mattheo sighed dramatically. “Whatever,” he grunted. He closed his book, threw it on the nightstand, and turned off his lamp. The room was encased in darkness except for the dim moonlight coming through the window. He shifted towards the edge of the bed, making sure a noticeable gap was between the two of you.

He thought back to your conversation. “Why don’t you just leave?”

It was too late now to apologise.

***

Mattheo let the door swing shut behind him, returning to Riddle Manor after an outing with friends. He glanced around, waiting for a servant to take his coat, but no one answered. An eyebrow cocked, Mattheo slowly walked up the stairs, hearing you instruct the servants on something, every other sentence of yours either containing, ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. Up on the landing, he found you directing a servant who was pulling a rack of your clothing. “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “Have you lost your damn mind? Are you trying to send a message or something?”

“You’ve made it perfectly clear that you have no interest in me, so I’m trying to make this marriage as civilised as possible,” you said diplomatically. “I believe that if I move to the West Wing and leave you in the East Wing, it will benefit our marriage.”

“What exactly do you hope to accomplish with this piteous attempt at attention?” he asked rhetorically. “Do you think it’ll make me want you more?” He stuck his tongue in his cheek, grinning incredulously. “You’re delusional if you think that’s even remotely possible.” He stepped closer to you, towering over you with anger in his eyes. “This is not some game, L/n. This is marriage. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“I’m aware that we’re married, Riddle,” you retorted. “And don’t refer to me by L/n anymore. I am now a Riddle - just like you. However, I am not going to live in a state of constant sorrow and dejection. Having a wing of the mansion to myself may help.”

Mattheo’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, irritated by your resistance. “Fine,” he growled. “But don’t expect me to come running after you when you decide you want attention. You’re on your own now.” He turned away from you and walked into his now solo bedroom. “Just remember - this is your choice.”

You felt your anger inflate. “I thought you would like this!” Your voice rose and you tugged a hand through your hair. It was the first time in your marriage that you had fought back. “I have done everything I can to please you, yet nothing is enough for you!” Your voice turned desperate. “What do you want from me?”

He stopped in his tracks, turning around with surprise and disgust on his face. “Dammit, Y/n! Don’t yell at me like that!” His voice thundered, stepping towards you. “I never asked for any of this! I didn’t ask for a wife or for you to try so hard to please me! All of this is ridiculous.” His hand slashed through the air to make a point. “All I want is some space. Space to figure out what the hell I want. But let’s make one thing clear: I don’t care about you.”

“Am I not giving you space?” Your fists clenched at your sides. “I am moving out of the bedroom and out of your way. Yet, you erupt at me and get angry over nothing! You send me mixed messages and I don’t know what to do.”

Mattheo took a breath, trying to regain control over his emotions. “I am not erupting! Lord, you are so sensitive!” he snapped, running a hand over his face. “Can’t you listen for once? I am not sending you mixed signals. I am trying to figure out my place in this unorthodox situation we’re in.”

After a beat of silence, you asked firmly, “did you talk about me?” After seeing a flicker of confusion on his face, you clarified, “when you were out with your friends, did you talk about me? Did you rant about how annoying I was? Did you complain about marriage?”

His lips parted before taking a breath. “Yes, I talked about you,” he admitted begrudgingly. “I complained about how frustrating I find you and how frustrated I am with my parents for arranging this senseless marriage.”

“What did they say?” you insisted. “Did they sympathise? Did they laugh at me? Did they add fuel to your fire by commenting about how… how ‘needy’ and ‘sensitive’ I am?”

Mattheo made a low sound in his chest and rubbed his temples, frustrated by your persistence. “They agreed with me, yes. A few believed that you are too emotionally attached and sentimental. Others chalked it up to the pains of an average marriage.”

Your anger flared up and you said, “Let me tell you this: I never wanted marriage either. But I at least tried. I tried to be a nice and loving wife and a kind human.” You turned on your heel, marching out of the bedroom and towards the West Wing.

Mattheo watched you go, an unwanted feeling of guilt washing over him. He sighed and walked over to the window. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Why is everything so damn complicated?”

For the next couple of weeks, you stayed true to your word. You avoided Mattheo and his office and stayed in your wing of the mansion. After a week or two, you decided to explore the mansion, stumbling upon a magnificent library. You inhaled in veneration when someone cleared their throat. Mattheo stood behind you, raising an brow. After a silence, you said recalcitrantly, “you never told me that Riddle Manor had a library.”

He smirked at your thinly veiled hatred, amused despite himself. “Well, now you know,” he said dryly. “It’s a perk of living in a Riddle household.” He walked over to a bookshelf and began browsing for a book he required for a contract that was being drafting. He showed no sign of embarrassment or discomfort at your presence. “You may use it whenever you want. But don’t expect me to join a book club or anything juvenile.”

“I would never dream of it,” you said sarcastically. You step further into the library and can’t help but gape at the vastness. You trailed your fingers over the book spines, breathing in the smell of old books. You crouched down to examine a series of poetry titles. “I can read any of these?” you asked hesitantly.

He nodded and leaned against the shelf behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Feel free to read whatever you would like. They’re here for the entire household. Well, the servants don’t have time to read books, so in a Riddle household, the parents and children use the library the most.” Your hand faltered over the titles. “If you find something that catches your eye, go ahead and take it. I won’t stop you.” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, as if he wished to know what topics and books piqued your interest. You hummed quietly, not fully acknowledging his words. You were already picking up a book and leafing through it. Mattheo watched you for a moment, his eyes softening briefly.

Everyday, you returned to the library. It was an escape from the walls of your room and the walls that Mattheo had put up around his heart.

Eventually, the servants recognised your routine and began to start a fire in the fireplace to keep you warm. They moved a loveseat in front of the fire that you gratefully used. You devoured the poetry collection, including Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe, and started on the classics. Every once in a while, Mattheo would come into the library, but he wouldn’t talk. He simply took a book and returned to his study. Sometimes, you wondered if he remembered you lived in the mansion with him.

Mattheo found himself frequenting the library more often, looking for books he had never needed before. A swell of pride filled him whenever he saw you by the fire, knowing that something in his home brought you such comfort. He still refused to speak to you, maintaining distance and ignoring your existence, but he found himself increasingly drawn to your presence.

One day, on a whim, he decided to take a risk and left a stack of his favourite books on the table next to your chair. That afternoon, you found the stack of books. You smiled despite yourself, though you didn't make any comment to Mattheo. You picked up the first book, sat down in the chair, and began to read.

A week later, Mattheo was hosting a dinner party for his associates. He didn’t say a word about it to you, though you heard the servants preparing for it. You decided not to go, opting to stay in your safe haven of the library.

After an hour or so of faint music, you heard the door to the library squeak open and your head whipped up. You saw one of Mattheo’s friends, Tom, enter and look around. He spotted you and his lips curled up into a smirk. “So you’re the wife we’ve heard so much about?”

Your stomach clenched and you replied, “I guess so.”

Tom’s smirk grew wider as he took in your terse response, enjoying your obvious discomfort. He approached you with a lecherous gaze in his eyes before asking, “and how do you find life as Mrs. Riddle? Are you enjoying your… arrangement?” His words dripped with sarcasm, not believing for a moment that you and Mattheo were married for love.

You stared at him. “It has its perks,” you said simply.

Tom laughed derisively at your response, not convinced by your nonchalance. “And what are those perks?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Extravagant gifts? Luxurious vacations? Or simply the privilege of being married to such a powerful man?”

You squared your shoulders. “I am powerful without a man,” you said sharply. “I do not need a man to determine my worth and prowess.”

Tom scoffed. “Really? How exactly did you become powerful on your own?” he asked, challenging you. “I find it hard to believe that you could ever achieve anything significant without the backing of a powerful husband behind you.” He leaned in closer, grinning.

You closed your book with a snap. “The L/n family,” you said, talking of your maiden lineage, “has had control over many estates and affairs for decades. Without Mattheo Riddle, I would’ve inherited half of it, second only to my brother. I would’ve had four auspicious companies at my ready disposal, capable of doing most anything. So, yes, sir, I would have been momentous without him.”

Tom’s smirk faded as he recognised your family name. He remained undeterred, however, stating, “that explains why your husband was so eager to marry you. He must see you as a valuable asset to his business empire.”

As you opened your mouth to retort, the door banged open and Mattheo strode into the library.

Mattheo had noticed Tom’s absence from his party, but when it became too long to be excused as a restroom break, Mattheo had asked his brother, Enzo, if he had seen where he had gone. Enzo had smiled a small smile and whispered, “Tom went to the library. Where your darling wife stays hidden.”

Mattheo saw red.

He barged into the library, a deadly, lethal, and borderline possessive look deep in his eyes. When he saw Tom flanking you, Mattheo’s expression darkened and his hands clenched into a ready fist. “What the hell are you doing here?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “This is a private wing of my home - not some place for you to bother my wife.”

Mattheo moved closer to you, placing himself between you and Tom as if to protect you from further harm.

Tom quickly stepped back and placed a confident demeanour on his face. “I was simply having a conversation with your lovely wife here,” Tom gritted his teeth.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, showing clearly that Tom was lying and intruding. You saw Mattheo’s eyes flicker down to you, his eyes softening reassuringly before snapping back to Tom, malice in his gaze.

“Don’t lie to me,” Mattheo snapped at Tom. “There’s no need for any sort of interaction or conversation with my wife unless I am present.” Mattheo placed a hand on the top of your chair, his fingers gripping it and his bicep flexing slightly to warn Tom.

Tom’s eyes flicked with something you hadn’t seen before: fear. Fear commonly associated with the Riddle name. He adjusted his collar and straightened his posture. “Of course, Mr. Riddle,” he said bitterly.

You raised a brow. “I think it’s time for you to go now,” you said, your face stoic. Tom bowed his head slightly before exiting the library. You didn’t look up to meet Mattheo’s eye. You murmured, “you didn’t have to do that. I had it covered.”

Mattheo watched Tom until he completely left the room before turning to look down on you. His voice was threatening, “you may have been able to handle Tom, but I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting or harassing you while you’re under my roof. Consider this a warning - if anyone tries to cross you again, they will regret it.”

“Perhaps you should tell your coworkers that. Not me,” you replied.

Mattheo’s expression was cold. “Fine. I will,” he growled. “I will not sit idly by and allow anyone to disrespect my wife.” He let go of your chair and adjusted the cuffs of his suit. As if in a business meeting, he said, “And consider this another warning: if you continue to act so stubbornly, I won’t hesitate to remind you of your place in this marriage.”

“My place in this marriage is your wife!” you cried out, finally standing up. “Your equal! Something you seem to forget until it’s convenient for you. Or until another man threatens your… your property! I doubt you see me any differently than this house or your assets.”

Mattheo grabbed onto your arm tightly, pulling you close and leaning down so his face was inches from yours. “Do not ever speak to me like that. You are not my equal - you are my wife and I decide what is best for both of us. If you cannot accept that, then you should reconsider your place in this marriage.” He released your arm and turned away from you, striding towards the door. “I suggest you reflect on your behaviour,” he added icily, leaving the room without looking back.

After he left the library, you let out a scream of frustration. You shoved the pile of books that Mattheo had carefully curated to the floor. They tumbled down, book after book, covers opening and pages bending. Tears pricked at your eyes as you examined the scene.

You slumped into your chair, the fire in front of your crackling softly, emitting a calming warmth.

Eventually, you fell asleep in the chair, tear stains on your cheeks. In the morning, you woke to the serene morning light filtering into the room - a vast contrast to your mood. The fire had dissolved into crackling embers. Tucked on top of you was a thick blanket and the stack of books that you had pushed over had been re-piled and stood majestically atop the table.

You sighed, knowing you should thank the servants for taking care of you and cleaning up.

After you walked to the kitchen, your footfalls heavy, you thanked the servants, who were finishing preparing breakfast. They exchanged glances and one piped up, “Ma’am, while we appreciate the sentiment, we didn’t do that. We weren’t aware that you were still in the library. We believed you had retired to bed before the social last night.” They paused and then added, “however, Mr. Riddle didn’t go to bed. He was in his study until morning light.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. You bid them an awkward goodbye before entering the dining hall.

Mattheo was already seated at the head of the table, his expression exhausted and distant. He didn’t acknowledge you when you approached, focusing instead on the uneaten plate of food in front of him.

You sat down opposite him and muttered, “the servants informed me that you blanketed me last night and cleaned up the books.” You hesitated and finally said, “thank you.”

Mattheo looked up briefly, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t respond directly. “It was necessary,” he said simply. “You should not be cold and uncomfortable in your own home.” He doesn’t make any effort to engage in conversation beyond that. Something was weighing heavily on his mind and he seemed preoccupied by it.

You hummed in response. Eventually, you stood and whispered to your husband before walking out, “you are not as cold as you want to seem. You needn’t keep the facade up with me.”

Mattheo looked up briefly before returning to his food. His expression relaxed, but he didn’t respond.

***

Later that day, Mattheo sat in his study as he always did. A knock came from the door and he glanced at the clock. It was a bit early for lunch to be delivered, but he announced, “come in.”

The door creaked open and your head peeked into the room. Mattheo’s brows furrowed - not with malice, but with scrutiny. You entered and sat in one of the two seats next to his fireplace. Silently, you cracked open a book you had brought and began to read.

Mattheo watched you intently, his gaze never wavering as he took in every detail of your face. He tried to find any acrimonious intent behind your actions, but you looked so peaceful. He found himself noticing the details of your face and your beauty as the fire cast warm highlights on your eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked eventually, his voice holding an armour of needed suspicion.

“Reading,” you said simply.

Mattheo frowned, not convinced by your answer. Why would you read in his study after the way he had been treating you? He leaned back in his chair, his work forgotten. “Isn’t there something more important that you could be occupying your time with?” he challenged.

“Not particularly,” you responded. “You’re in charge of the companies and estates. I have nothing to do. I thought I would accompany you. You must get lonely in a study by yourself.”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, but ultimately nodded slowly. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “But don’t think I will stop working simply because my wife is here.” His posture grew taut as he began looking over documents again. “This is still my office and I expect you to behave accordingly.”

“I’m simply reading,” you murmured, a smile inching its way up your lips.

Henceforth, a routine was established. Every morning, you would knock on Mattheo’s study door, usually an hour or so after he began working. There was rarely conversation, the silence being broken by Mattheo’s scratch of a quill or you turning pages, occasionally being disrupted by the loud crack of a log in the fire.

One day, you had finished your book (it was an excellent book, one from the pile Mattheo had recommended) and stood to go retrieve another one. At the sound of your footsteps leaving his office, Mattheo’s head darted up and he suddenly asked, “where are you going?”

You paused and turned back to him. “I’m to get a new book. Unfortunately, as wonderful as this one was, it had an ending like all books do.”

Mattheo frowned and a hint of vulnerability broke through his exterior. “Get a servant to do it,” he offered.

“Well, I don’t know which one I want,” you counted, raising a brow in a smirk.

He huffed and shook his head, returning his eyes to his documents. He grumbled, “I will commission the servants to build you a small bookshelf for my office. You can keep your books there.” You stood, watching him for a moment, admiring him until his gaze snapped up. “Well, go get your book,” he said sharply. “… but hurry back,” he added in a mumble.

You finally smiled at him before exiting and Mattheo gazed at the place you once stood, trying to memorise how your lips curled up and your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

He rather liked it when you smiled.

***

“Are you alright?”

You sniffed and laughed. “Yes, yes. I’m being foolish.” You wiped some tears from your eyes. “My book is very good.”

Mattheo chuckled lowly. “And what made you cry, hm?”

“A daughter and father interaction,” you replied quietly.

“Was the father cruel to the daughter?” Mattheo laughed tersely, shaking his head at his documents. “Are your feelings not strong enough to withstand their wrath?”

You frowned at Mattheo, setting the book down. “No,” you corrected slowly. “The father was being kind to his daughter. He was supporting her and loving her; as a father should.” There was a pause as Mattheo looked up at you. “I know that the Riddles are a harsher family - I’ve known ever since I knew I was to marry you. But… but are you alright?”

You felt absurd asking the question. Yet, when Mattheo couldn’t meet your eye, a wistful sadness blanketing the room, you felt as if you should’ve asked the simple question weeks earlier.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then Mattheo turned in his chair so his back was facing you. "I'm fine," he finally answered, his voice rough and strained. "I am used to dealing with it, I suppose." Despite his insistence that he didn't need anyone's pity or concern, your words seem to have affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit.

“May I ask a question?” you asked softly.

Mattheo hesitated for a moment before nodding, his eyes never leaving the window as he spoke. "Ask away," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He then cleared his throat and said, "but I won’t give a warm and fuzzy answer."

There was a pregnant pause in the air as you gathered your courage up and suddenly thrust your fears upon your husband. “If we ever have children, which we’re somewhat expected to,” you added hurriedly. “I don’t want them to grow up in a household where they feel as if they have to vie for love or attention. And I don’t want me to be the only one giving them attention.” Mattheo turned his head so his face was angled toward you, but his eyes could still stray to the window if need be. “If we have kids, can you promise that you’ll love them? Even if you don’t love me?”

Even though your voice was steady, Mattheo knew of the vulnerability deeply rooted within you.

He nodded cautiously, his expression serious. "I promise," he said firmly. "I may not love you, but I will love our children unconditionally. They will never have to compete for my affection or feel neglected. I may not be a fond father, but I will provide for them and protect them as best I can." A protectiveness filled his veins just at the thought of something happening to his future children.

You nodded once, a sad smile on your face. “Perhaps we’ll have a big family. Enough children to start a sports team.” You smiled at the thought, laughing lightly.

Mattheo smiled, despite himself, imagining a large brood of children running around the manor. It was an oddly appealing idea, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. "We'll see," he said noncommittally. "I'd rather have lots of sons; they'll carry on the family name and ensure my legacy continues." He turned back around and attempted to focus on his work.

“And daughters too.” You frowned, staring at your husband, even if he wouldn’t spare you a glance. “Daughters can carry on the family name just as well as sons.” A muscle in your jaw ticked.

Mattheo scowled at your defiance, his eyes narrowing slightly. Why hadn’t you just fallen into line? "Fine, daughters too," he reluctantly agrees. "But make no mistake, they will be raised to be strong and capable like their brothers. The Riddle name demands nothing less."

“And the sons can be soft and caring and sensitive,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have to vie for affection. I thought we agreed that they wouldn’t have needless competition in their life. I don’t want them to grow up… like, well… you.” You finally uttered the words that had been hanging off your tongue dangerously.

Mattheo’s expression hardened as he clenched his fist tightly. "Fine!" he snapped. "They can be whatever the hell you want them to be! But don't expect me to sit back and watch while they become weaklings and failures. We need to teach them to be strong and ruthless like I am." He stood up abruptly, knocking over his chair in the process.

You jump up after him, crossing towards him. You whirled to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger towards his chest. “Listen here, Riddle. Just because someone is kind and vulnerable doesn’t mean they’re weak!” You growled, “and just because you grew up like that, does not mean that’s the type of household I am going to have.”

Mattheo stepped forward and his hand flew up to grip your wrist. His eyes blazed with anger, but then something changed in his expression and he took a step back, looking surprised at his own reaction. "You're right," he admitted begrudgingly. "I shouldn't have assumed that being vulnerable meant being weak." He ran a hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, yet resolute in his decision. "But don't expect me to be a pushover either. I'll still teach them to be strong and independent."

“Strong and independent are good qualities,” you conceded. “Both for the boys and girls.”

"Agreed," he said. Mattheo straightened his cuffs and cleared his throat. "Our children will be taught to be strong and independent, regardless of gender. They will know that they are loved and valued by both of us, equally." He held out his hand to you, indicating that the argument was over - for now at least. "Deal?"

“Deal.” You shook his hand defiantly. It was a business deal, but a good deal at least.

Mattheo exhaled and brushed past you. “I’m to a meeting,” he informed you. It was a simple comment , one that was an offhand remark, but to you, Mattheo had just let you into his life. It was something he had never done before. Even if it was just a response to where he was off to, it was a window into his life. A life that now may have enough room to hold you.

Mattheo paused when he reached the door. “I never knew the way I grew up was wrong until I saw other families. I saw the parents bending down to listen to their children instead of hushing them. I saw parents comforting their children after scraped knees, not pushing them to the kitchen for some rubbing alcohol. I saw parents beaming when their child could plunk out the simplest of tunes on the piano. No one else got berated for being out of rhythm or playing a D instead of an E. I never saw another child get slapped by their parents or scolded as harshly as I was. It was around then I realised that something was wrong. But what was I to do about it?”

Words dried in your throat. You wanted to cry at his words, but you felt dried out. How could someone treat their child like that? It explained so much…

Your husband was a fragile man, you were just realising. And he was trying to pick up the pieces and present them to you in the only way he knew how.

"The stars remind me of you,” he said quietly, the change in conversation sudden. “I mean that in the best possible way.” His voice was the softest and most tender as you had ever heard it. You hoped he would keep speaking the melodies that made your heart sing in tune.

“How so?” you asked, afraid to break the plane of existence that you and Mattheo were carefully standing on.

"They are so beautiful, yet so far away. I may see them, but I can never touch them."

***

The servants didn’t know what to do. The master and mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, seemed to be at a ceasefire. The cooks lamented at how they had seemed to be doing so well. The maids thought they were destined to doom from the start. The butlers gossiped about Mr. Riddle’s letters to a Mr. Tom, terminating their long-term partnership. The scullery maid still had hope that the husband and wife would come to their senses and live a happy life.

It perplexed the servants when the mistress requested to move her belongings back into the master bedroom and the master looked on, a soft smile on his lips. It confused the servants when the Mr and Mrs began taking meals together and talking in hushed tones late into the night. And it bamboozled the servants when, one summer afternoon, the Lord of the household stood from his desk, cautiously moved to his Lady that was reading by the open window, and asked her to accompany him on a walk. She had accepted.

There was to be a dinner party, this time hosted at Mr. Draco Malfoy’s manor, that Mr. Riddle was expected to attend. Per usual, the master didn’t invite the mistress, but she was content to stay home. A maid briefly heard the madam whisper to her husband, “hurry home, please? I don’t like it when you’re away.” The maid had scurried away before she could hear the reply.

Mattheo returned home that night, just before the sun was setting. He climbed the steps, unbuttoning his cuffs and loosening his tie. The soft glow of light was still shining under your shared bedroom - something he still hadn’t gotten used to - and Mattheo couldn’t help but smile.

“Why are you still up?” he asked quietly when he entered the room.

“You promised to be home early and I wanted to see you before I go to bed,” you reminded him, a small book in your hands.

“Right, right.” Mattheo chuckled and shook his head, slinging off his tie and jacket.

“How was the dinner?”

Mattheo hummed noncommittally. “Not the worst. A couple of my good friends, Theo and Pansy, were there to help alleviate the pain of socialising. But… I found something odd happening.”

“And what was that, husband?” Mattheo took a moment to relish in the way that word curled off your tongue effortlessly.

“I found myself wishing you were there. Nay,” he quickly corrected himself. “I wished I was here with you.”

“Oh?” Your eyes flickered up towards Mattheo, a slight blush coming to your cheeks. “Why… what do you mean by that?”

Mattheo began to unbutton his shirt and moved towards his closet. “Well,” he admitted, mumbling to himself. “I simply mean that instead of having to socialise with people who are too tightly wound and whose only intent is to take my money,” he chucked his belt into his closet and rolled up his sleeves, “I would rather be at home with my darling wife.”

A smile inched up your lips. “Really? Tell me more about this darling wife of yours.”

Mattheo hummed, stepping towards the bed. He crawled down on the bed, leaning on his forearms to lean up towards you. “My wife… I’ve come to care deeply about her. She is a beautiful, elegant woman, one who has a fiery tongue about her and an intelligent brain that even I cannot rival. She always seems to get her way, even when I try to fight back. It’s as if my wife has a command over me that I have willingly submitted to. And I am not ashamed to say so.” He lightly caressed your arm, sending a trail of goosebumps up your skin.

“You must be careful, Mattheo,” you uttered. “That sounds an awful lot like love.”

Mattheo brought his eyes up to meet yours, the sting of tears building up behind them. His voice cracked as he said, “that’s the first time you’ve called me by my name, Y/n.”

Your lips parted in shock. “I- I didn’t realise. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Mattheo demanded before reaching up to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, hungrily trying to gather every ounce of love from you. His kisses were feverish at first, his strong hand coming up to cup your jawline, his fingers just teasing behind your ear, before his lips slowed. Mattheo was a starved man and he wouldn’t let anyone take away his only solace. He shifted so he could be closer to you, gently taking the book from your hands as you surrendered yourself to him. Your hands found his silk shirt, gripping it in your fists. He placed the book on the nightstand and moved so he was hovering over you, never once letting a second go by without feeling your skin against his.

Mattheo slowly, achingly pulled away from you and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “My darling, my love, my life,” he murmured, dragging a knuckle down your cheek. “I apologise for everything I have ever done or said that made you feel inferior. I would be happy to kneel for you in front of my associates and family members - just to show them how much power you have over me.” He took a breath before persisting, “I was foolish. I was incompetent. I didn’t realise how much love I held for you. It is, and always will be, only you. I will promise you this: you will be the only woman I ever touch, the only voice I ever want to hear, the only skin I will ever caress, and the only eyes I ever want to see. I will wake and fall, every morning and night, thinking of you. You are the other half of my heart, for it is you who I love. I will place the galaxies and stars in the night sky for you. If you are ever unhappy, my love, I will not rest until I see you smile again. If you are ever mad, my love, I shall smite whatever upsets you, even if it is I. And I would die a happy man if you could give me only an ounce of what I give you.”

Your breath shook and you swore Mattheo had injected ambrosia into your veins for you were sure your blood was singing with the love that was filling your soul. “I wrote a letter to your mother today,” you offered quietly, as if your mere words could ever compare to the love poem Mattheo had just gifted to you. “And I thanked her.” Mattheo’s eyes flashed with confusion. You continued, “I thanked her for birthing such a wonderful husband and for raising him. I know you u wish to renounce your family, but as of now, I want to thank them with all my heart. Mattheo, I love you.”

“And I you,” Mattheo whispered, bringing his forehead down to rest on yours. His nose bumped against your cheek and he couldn’t contain his grin anymore. “How did I ever get so lucky?” he mumbled.

You laughed lightly. “Luck? Fate?”

Mattheo shook his head and his nose brushed light curves over your skin. “No, my wife. Simply love. Pure, unconditional love.”

***

The house was bright, the curtains pulled as far open as they could be. Some servants scuttled around, holding laundry or preparing for dinner. Meanwhile, Mattheo strode leisurely through the halls, smiling lovingly as his nephews chased each other through the halls. “What do I say, boys?” he called after them.

“Have fun, be safe, and don’t get caught!” they yelled back before running around a corner.

Enzo jogged after them and grumbled to Mattheo, “it’s not your duty to rule them up.”

“As their favourite uncle, yes, it is.”

“Your wife is in Andromeda’s room,” Enzo told his brother before sprinting off after his sons. Enzo wasn’t usually at Riddle Manor, but today was a special day. It was Orion’s birthday.

Mattheo chuckled to himself before Orion raced up the steps, panting. “Papa! Papa!”

Mattheo grinned widely and scooped Orion up. “Are you alright, hm? What’ve you been up to?”

“Aunt Pansy’s carriage just pulled up!” Orion bounced in Mattheo’s arms, beaming.

“And you’re not even dressed,” Mattheo stared at Orion, pretending to be stunned. “Where’s your mother, Ori?”

“She’s helping Andy get dressed,” Orion announced. Mattheo nodded and carried his son to his daughter’s room. “Mum!” Orion cried out, seeing Y/n standing behind Andromeda, knotting her hair into a braid.

“Oh, my darling,” Y/n tied Andy’s hair up before crossing to Mattheo and taking Orion from his arms. “Are you excited for your birthday?”

Orion hummed excitedly and wiggled down from Y/n’s arms. He darted to Andromeda and wrapped himself around her in a tight hug. Andromeda grumbled, but allowed him to cling to her as she finished her hair and rouge.

Mattheo took Y/n’s hand and pulled her back toward him, nudging his nose against hers. “Look at that,” he murmured, reaching down to play with the silver and green ring on your finger. “Mine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion from your children, he backed you up and caged you against the wall in his arms. “Seven years with you and two beautiful children to show for it.”

“Hey, mum? Where’s my- eugh!” Andromeda turned around and reeled back from the scene in front of her. “For the love of Salazar, please get a room!”

“We are in a room.” Mattheo smirked, glancing up from the crook of your neck.

“Aren’t you two, if I'm doing my calculations correctly, nearing thirty years old?” Andromeda tsked and rolled her eyes.

“You believe that simply because we’re getting older, I’m going to stop loving your mother?” Mattheo chuckled before pressing a light kiss to your jawline.

You shivered and tucked your face into your husband’s chest. “Matty, spare the poor children,” you chastised lightly. “What do you need, darling?” you turned towards Andromeda.

“You used to call me that,” Mattheo whined. He stepped back from you, letting you out of his embrace.

Andromeda sighed and asked, “where is my white shawl? It’ll go well with the dress I’m planning to wear to Orion’s party.”

“Why does it matter what you wear to Orion’s party?” Mattheo asked, puzzled.

“Because Albus Potter is going to be here,” you said as if it were obvious.

“Harry Potter’s son?” Mattheo asked incredulously. “That scumbag?”

Both you and Andromeda ignored Mattheo and Orion left the room at the sound of Aunt Pansy entering the foyer and shouting out for her favourite nephew.

“Your shawl should be in the library,” you answered. “Ori was using it as a blanket yesterday.”

Andromeda sighed and turned towards the door. “He needs to stop taking my things. Just last week he stole my candelabra so he could read in the dark. Perhaps you should accelerate his schooling. He’s getting bored, you know.”

“We’ll raise our own son, thank you, Andromeda,” Mattheo raised a brow. Andy huffed and and flicked her dress out behind her dramatically, exiting the room. Mattheo turned to you and said, “they get that from you. The love of reading.”

“Yes, but they get their flair for the dramatics from you. And lest us not forget, you keep fuelling our love of literature by buying more books and expanding our library,” you countered.

Mattheo hummed. “‘Tis true. But how could I live without spoiling my wife and children?” He whirled you around in his arms and pressed a long kiss to your lips. “Speaking of children, what would you think of expanding our family?”

You let out a laugh. “You simply like the act of making a bigger family.”

“I love my children too,” Mattheo defended.

You reached up and brushed some of his hair away from his face. “Yes you do,” you smiled up at him. “You love your family very much.”

“Always.”

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thepigeonhasapen · 7 months ago

Note

I was wondering if you could do the Olympian Gods with a reader whose asexual? Like, what would their reactions be, would they mind, stuff like that d:

Asexual Reader, Olympian Edition

(Doing these asks out of order but shhhhhhh. Also strong warning for acephobia because Zeus in an ass)

🩷Aphrodite🩷

Very chill about it. She's the goddess of love and that includes ALL kinds of love. Self-love is one of her favorites. The fact that you know and accept who you are and that you're willing to let her in on it? Well, Aphrodite might just adore you even more than she already did.

"You’re...? Well of course I don't mind, dearest! In fact, I think that's positively wonderful!"

Regardless of whether or not you're interested, Aphrodite still can't refrain from making comments about your physical appearance. She'll try and curtail some of them if you find them uncomfortable, but she loves lavishing praise upon you and talking you up to her friends.

Partially jealous to be perfectly honest. She can't help but wonder if you have a more pure understanding of beauty because you're not looking at it though the rose-tinted lens of horny. Aphrodite is deeply fascinated by asexuality and even if she doesn't quite understand it, she tries her best.

⚔️Ares⚔️

Doesn't mind. Honestly, it doesn't even really impact him that much. Just neatly writes sex out of the equation and carries on.

"You seem nervous, my dear. You... oh? Is that all? No need to distress yourself so much over such things. I love you as you are and knowing this will not change that."

May ask you a few questions at the beginning but mostly leaves the subject alone after that.

If anyone's giving you shit, all it takes is a dirty look from Ares to shut them up. What can I say the man has a way with not using his words.

🏹Artemis🏹

You too?? Artemis tries to play it off cool but she's low-key thrilled actually. Internally screaming because thank the Fates, she can get as close to you as she wants and she doesn't have to worry about things getting Weird™️

"You’re ace? That's... cool. Sorry, that came off as really insincere. It's just... me too, you know? I got a little surprised is all. And um, we've been hanging out for a while and I just wanted to say, you know, now that we're talking about this and I know you're not gonna take this the wrong way, I think you're really neat. I love hanging out with you. ...Don't go spreading that around though, okay?"

Artemis is sex-repulsed. If you are too, she drags you to family events so she can make faces at you whenever her family starts talking about their sexual conquests. If you're not, she's deeply fascinated and will probably ask you WHY on earth you would want to do that.

Despite the fact that Artemis doesn't want to have sex, I feel like she'd still enjoy certain kinks. Primal play, petplay, and leather are things I feel she'd enjoy partaking in. (Source: I am ace and very kinky lmao)

🦉Athena🦉

What a good match, Athena is asexual too! She probably blanks your confession to be honest because she sometimes forgets that people actually have sex frequently and on purpose.

"Asexual? Yes, alright. And how fared your journey up to Olympus by the way? I hope Hermes treated you well."

Sex-neutral. Will occasionally give sex a go if her partner happens to bring it up but will mostly just forget it's existence as a thing entirely.

Athena is actually quite haughty about her asexuality. She is definitely looking down on anyone who is swayed from the path of wisdom by someone else's sex appeal. Loves that you can understand her point of view on the subject.

❄️Demeter❄️

As Demeter has aged her sex drive has shrunk to like nil so really nothing about your relationship is much different.

"Asexual...? Ah, like young Artemis, yes? Fascinating. I've never been able to pin her down long enough to converse upon the subject. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Demeter tends to be a touch more overprotective than she needs to be. If anyone even so much as gives a hint of giving you shit for it, Demeter is sending them an absolute withering glare that has the potential to kill even the most vibrant flower. She follows it up with some bitterly cold words if necessary but it rarely comes to that.

She's honestly quite relieved about it really. She was never really that horny of a person and is happy to find someone who can relate to that. I personally think Demeter is some kind of acespec but that might also be my asexual ass projecting my aceness onto every character I get my grubby little hands on lol

🍇Dionysus🍇

Chill about it. He's chill about literally everything, what do you expect? Dionysus is commonly associated with trans people and I like to believe that queer people in general just flock to him because he's just so open and accepting.

"Ace, yeah? Congrats, man, thanks for telling me. Just let me know if I ever step on any toes, 'kay?"

Not gonna lie, he secretly corners Artemis and Athena to bother them on the subject just in case he's got it wrong. He didn’t as it turns out, but he's glad he checked in anyway because it was an enlightening conversation. With Athena anyway. Artemis runs off at the first available opportunity.

Happy to go whatever speed you want, if you want to go any speed at all. He may still get a little handsy sometimes but he doesn't mean anything by it, he just really likes holding you like a teddy bear. Honestly, I think he'd get a real kick out of somebody aegosexual and think it was such a super fun party trick that you can say such horny things and not be interested at all. Probably mildly pesters you to engage with smutty things because he finds your unamused expressions absolutely fascinating.

🪽Hermes🪽

Bursts out laughing when you tell him. It's not for the reason you think and he does feel really bad about it when he sees your face.

"Haha, of all the...! Haha– oh, hey, hey, I'm sorry, it's not that. I totally don't mind you being ace or anything, far from it, it's just that I seem to have an accidental habit for attracting your type and I seem to be collecting you."

Besides you, the person Hermes spends the most time with is Charon... who is also asexual. Hermes, the uberhorny hypersexual fuckbunny who would literally die for a quickie every five minutes find this hilarious. Opposites attract I guess? Hermes has a good giggle about it everytime he thinks about it.

Doesn't mind if you don't want to have sex. If you do, great! But if you don't, it's not a big deal.

🔱Poseidon🔱

Poseidon is... confused. It'll work out better if you're sex-repulsed and straight up don't want to have sex ever, otherwise poor Poseidon will absolutely struggle. He doesn't understand the difference between sexual attraction and aesthetic attraction and is just genuinely so out of his depth. You like the way he looks... but you don't want to have sex with him??

"What's that? Asexual? I, uh... okay, just between the two of us, you're gonna have to explain that one to me, babe."

He talks to Dionysus. Even after that he still doesn't get it. Poseidon tries his best to be supportive but has like no idea how. Probably shooes away people who try to even mention sex in your vicinity. It's gonna take awhile before he understands how this works. Confused but he's got the spirit kinda?

May initially try to convince you that you just haven't had good sex yet. Sit him down, explain this all to him, and he'll probably get it. Okay, let's be honest, he still doesn't get it but he respects your choice and generally leaves the subject alone. His libido is quite high though so he will frequently sleep around just to scratch that itch.

⚡️Zeus⚡️

We were doing good until we got to you, huh Zeus? Zeus just quite firmly doesn't believe in asexuality. He definitely thinks you're just confused or that you haven't had sex right yet or that you'll change your mind at some point.

"Asexual? Oh dear, have you been talking to that daughter of mine, Artemis? She's always on about something or other, if she chooses to talk to us at all."

Zeus won't force you to have sex but he will make subtle (he thinks he's being subtle anyway) comments about how you're a tease or a prude. If you're interested in having sex, Zeus doesn't understand the definition and just thinks you don't find him attractive. His feelings are now hurt. He will be throwing a violent totally-not-a-tantrum now.

Will eventually, probably shut up about it. Look, he's never gonna understand it so shutting up about it is the best you're gonna get from him. This idiot thinks with his penis, okay? Athena stole all the intelligence from him at birth. Just doesn't get it, very confused, cannot even comprehend the idea of not wanting to bang everything in sight.

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burekforsatoru · 5 months ago

Text

just like old times

sebastian (stardew valley)/f!reader | read it on ao3 you come back to the place that holds your dearest memories to take over the farm once your grandpa died, now everything feels different. your friends feel different. five years away have done their damage, now's the time to fix it. wc: 12.5k tags: eventual smut, grief/mourning, a fuck ton of flashbacks, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), creampie, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, slight angst

you stand on the pelican town ground once again. it looks like the old times, but the feeling of dread reminds you that it isn't, and it will never be as exciting as before.

for one, the bus ride seems longer. the hills and plains interchange outside of the scratched and dirty windows as the vehicle’s stiff suspension makes sure you feel every bump in the road. second, there's no more of that excitement you felt as the bored bus driver announces pelican town when the bus lurches to a stop and the door opens with a squeak. no more carefree holidays at your grandparents’ farm, no more staying out until the sun comes up and sleeping until lunch time. now it's time to gather all that knowledge of farming collected over the years, of which there is none, and take matters into your own hands, making sure the family farm is well looked-after.

you step off of the bus with a heavy sigh and even heavier bags.

the air is cooler than usual, this might be the first time you’re witnessing pelican town spring, cherry blossom leaves filling the air with their soft pink color.

you look around, already emotional with the realization that there will be no help in the form of the old man shouting an over-excited welcome as he makes his way shuffling across the bus stop to embrace you tightly, smelling of earth and herbs. no, there will be no help from him. time has decided so.

swallowing your sadness, you pick up the heavy bags and start towards the farm.

“you’re back!” a breathless shout sounds from the direction of the town square and you see the usual sight. a tall figure with a blond mop of hair on his head, a shorter one with a tidy ginger bob, accompanied by two even smaller figures. the surprise at their company stops you wallowing in sadness, breaking you out of the already set frown on your face and instead making the corners of your lips curl up slightly.

“how did you–?” your gaze drops down to the kids following penny’s steps. the few years you haven’t been here didn’t seem that harsh, not until you notice their heights. “oh yoba’s tears, what are they feeding you two? hey guys!”

vincent sprints over and nearly knocks you over as he wraps his little arms around your waist, giving you his usual enthusiastic greeting. seeing the happiness in his action, you start feeling that growing sense of guilt for not visiting lately. jas walks over, staying closer to penny as they all approach. she shyly looks down at the ground before murmuring a hello, still as shy as ever before warming up to such a rare presence in her town.

“gotta say, it feels like summer now that you’re here, almost makes me forget about my a-a-aller–” sam sneezes, making you lean back in surprise. funny how a few years can make you forget such mundane things like how loud sam’s sneezes are. wiping his nose with a tissue, he rambles on about some shit or other, it’s difficult to understand him when he’s mumbling. penny smacks his arm, looking at you apologetically.

“i’m so sorry for your loss, truly.” her words make your smile drop again. you nod, taking a heavy breath as you thank her for the condolences.

“oh… yeah i’m so sorry. i didn’t wanna bring you down, but if you need anything…” sam awkwardly scratches the back of his head before noticing the heavy bags on the ground, the dye on handles already rubbed off from straining with the weight. “well, let me carry these at least.” he picks up the bags with a little less effort than you used, and starts walking towards the farm, vincent following after his brother with a happy bounce in his step.

penny offers a small smile as you both follow after the boys, jas trailing after penny with her smaller steps.

you arrive at the creaky gates, your heart nearly rips out of your chest once the familiar green roof peeks through the treetops. it’s worse than you expected, the steps to the porch seem like they’ve seen better days, the scarecrows are barely hanging on, threadbare and spilling hay from their bodies like gutted corpses. it’s a horrific sight, tugging on the fond memories you have of the place. of the colorful fields of fairy roses you played in when you were little, of the sunflowers you ran through with your friend until grandma chased you out of them with a stern tone but a gentle smile, making you seek a way to pass the time on the beach. the beach . you wonder if she still likes the sea and sunflowers.

shaking those memories from your mind and pushing the gate open, you follow sam’s path through the overgrown grass to the porch.

“robin already said she’d be here today to fix these steps and the door.” sam kicks a loose plank with the toe of his shoe, waiting for you to unlock the front door.

once the jingling of the keys stops, he takes your bags inside, leaving footprints through the thick dust settled on every surface inside. penny remains outside, keeping the kids from running in and touching what they shouldn’t, but sam walks into the old kitchen, testing out the tap and lights, making sure they’re functional before he can leave you to your devices.

once alone, you busy yourself with dusting the place, lifting the old shutters to let some natural light in. dust particles dance in the air around the bedroom, looking magical as they sparkle in the spring sun spilling through the open window. you sneeze once, twice, wiping your nose with a tissue before tying up your hair and deciding to save the weeping for later. there’s work to be done.

you manage to sweep the floors with an old broom and dust most of the surfaces when robin’s gentle face pokes through the front door, knocking on the old wood when she spots you sweating as you try to make the place look decent again.

“hey, cherry,” she calls you by that silly nickname that reminds you of your granny, smiling as she slowly steps inside with a toolbox in her veiny hand, “i’m just gonna fix your step, okay? sorry in advance about the noise…” voice dying as you approach her and sink into the comforting hug you took for granted so many times before.

she always gave them out so freely, showing her affections with a gentle pat on the head and a tray of freshly cut apples when you were over at sebastian’s for the day. it was a given, on the days when the summer heat made being outside impossible, that you would spend most of the time in his bedroom, lying on the floor under the ceiling fan or playing games on his computer. robin would always make sure you forgetful kids didn’t die of dehydration or hunger. she would call you up into her husband’s lab to watch him make sparks fly by mixing different liquids or laugh when he made something expand and overflow, leaving a horrible smell in the air.

you would then leave the house to sit at the edge of the lake while sebastian sneaked out a couple of cigarettes smuggled from abby’s dad’s secret stash. those first few tries were nearly the end of his rebellious attempts, but then demetrius had to comment on the smell of smoke on his clothes and how you would regret even lighting a single cigarette. that was the day when sebastian finally mastered the art of holding the smoke in his lungs and not coughing it out immediately, all he had needed was spite.

now, robin’s hug is a little tighter, like she’s trying to pull pieces of you back together and slot them into place with her hold. she lets go with a little huff and a sniffle, but you smile at her through the sadness, silently thanking her for not repeating those words everyone keeps saying. sorry for your loss, my condolences, he was a great man, what a shame… yeah, it’s true, but there are only so many thank yous and yeah he was amazing you have left in you. robin pats you on the head like she did when you were younger, turning on her heel to start on that stupid broken step.

wiping the corners of your eyes, you continue cleaning, checking every light bulb and power outlet before stepping out onto the porch again, just in time to see robin get up and wipe the sweat off her forehead.

“there we go, it should be good as new. even better than new, really.” she pats you on the shoulder before taking her stuff to leave. just as you’re about to go back inside to try unpacking, she calls out to you. “oh, cherry? i’m sure sebby would like to see you, too.”

with that, she walks off, wincing as the gate creaks and making a note of it to fix later.

alone again, you walk back inside, noticing from the corner of your eye that robin left her best hammer on the floor. cheeky woman, she knows what she’s doing. you consider for a moment if you should feign ignorance, leave the hammer there until she needs to get it back, but some part of you is buzzing with excitement at the idea of seeing sebastian again. it’s been years . the friendship is surely still there, he’s never been high-maintenance, never insisted you stay in touch after the summers, always content with hanging out for the summer and saying goodbye until the first day of the next one. he wouldn’t hold a grudge, not when that was how you functioned for more than a decade.

groaning, you bend down to grab the hammer and begin the well-known hike up into the mountains, watching the sky get warmer in tone. the muscles in your legs haven’t forgotten the path, taking over as your mind wanders to reminisce on the simpler times. starting tomorrow, you have to take matters into your own hands, clear the farm, and start planting crops – something you’ve done with grandpa countless times over the years, mouth full of questions you would list out, not letting a single moment go without a why or a how . all while your granny took care of the greenhouse, her pride and joy, walking out with a heavy basket full of ripe fruits on her hip every morning.

the cherry picking days were the best, for they meant that granny would set a big bowl of those dark red fruits next to an empty one, and the two of you would spend the afternoon removing pits from them, eating too many in the process and painting your lips, fingers, and clothes red. the sticky stains stayed until granny rubbed them off with a rough towel, making one of those mornings’ adventures result in a sweet new nickname - cherry.

hardly anyone uses your real name anymore, at least here in pelican town. it’s been cherry ever since. little cherry, like the blossoms floating through the air every spring.

seeing smoke coming out of robin’s chimney shakes the longing thoughts from your head. you check the watch, she would be closing at this time, that is if she didn’t change anything in the past five years.

a quick rap on the heavy wooden door and she is already on the other side, pulling the door open to let you in with a wide, innocent smile. unsure if she knew that you saw through her little stunt or not, you give in, walking inside to place her hammer on the counter while she apologizes profusely, her mind must’ve been all over the place to forget something so vital. with a quiet chuckle you dismiss her apologies. after all, you would’ve walked over to say hello to everyone anyway.

demetrius is murmuring as he paces the lab, writing something down on a clipboard while maru holds two seemingly identical rocks, listing off differences as she notices them. you lean on the door frame, knocking slowly on the white wood of the door to the lab. maru stops mid-sentence, nearly dropping the rocks she was holding.

“sweet sodium thiosulphate, is it monday already?” the curly girl rushes over to embrace you, squealing in excitement despite her father’s less than excited face. he doesn’t approve of her abandoning experiments and research for something as frivolous as greeting an old friend. regardless, he finishes writing down what maru said earlier and puts the clipboard down, taking off safety gloves and goggles. you smile over her shoulder, her curly hair tickles your nose as she sways left and right embracing you. “ohhhh it’s been so long, mom kept going on and on about you coming back. we were so excited!” she pulls away to look at you better.

demetrius walks over to shake your hand, as is tradition. “ah, cherry, good to have you back. terrible circumstances, certainly, we would all rather have you here of your own accord. naturally, there is no way one could stop the ruthless nature of life and d–”

“fucking hell, man, give her a moment.” like an arrow straight into your soul, that familiar bored tone breaks demetrius’ rambling. you turn your head to the side, meeting eyes with him. sebastian. with the same hair and the same crease between his eyebrows. the ring on his nostril is new, though. and so is the one on his eyebrow, his ear, yoba, he was busy since you last saw each other.

“hey.” a weak greeting leaves your lips, too busy playing spot the difference on him to even employ a single brain cell for rational thinking.

he seems to be a little taller than before, but his posture is still as bad as ever. there are traces of black on his fingernails, so he must have painted them again and picked the polish off in the meantime. you watch as he takes a pack of cigarettes from his hoodie pocket, his sleeve uncovers a little bit of his wrist, enough to see a black, now very faded, bracelet tied around it. your heart clenches at the memory, at the thought that he has kept that silly little accessory all this time. not even a bracelet, but a strap you ripped off your favorite top when it got ruined by one of maru’s experiments. it was the last time you spent your summer here, unburdened by the real life , and sebastian insisted you save at least a part of that beloved shirt. so you did the only logical thing, you ripped both straps, tied one around sebastian’s wrist and the other around yours. the one from your wrist ended up in the trash somewhere since it didn’t fit with the dress code of your stupid fancy job at joja corporate. now you regret it, seeing its pair right here in front of your eyes.

“you coming?” his murmured half-invitation sounds just like old times, bringing the last time you heard those words to mind.

you nod and wave good bye to the rest as sebastian walks out the front door, expecting you to trail behind him as always, leading you to the lake. it holds many secrets, the clear surface of the lake in the mountains with its ever clear water and rich life. it’s been witness to every late-night adventure all those summers, it holds the memories of happy times and the promises you made under the night sky. the promises you broke by not being here. sebastian stops and lights the cigarette that dangles from his lips, taking in a few drags before turning to you.

he says nothing, but it would be easier if he just shouted, you know he wants to, he has that look in his eyes. that i’m fucking pissed off but i don’t want to waste energy yelling look he so often had when he was a teenager and only just discovered rebellion against parental figures.

you say nothing, but it would be easier if you did, you really want to, your face certainly betrays the need to explain. to explain why you weren’t here, to ask if he’s mad at you, to reach out and make everything okay, make it better, make it easy like before. the silence between you is no longer light like it was years ago, it feels like a thread tugged completely taut and all it takes is one word to make it snap.

“so…” you start, trying to sort your thoughts out as you speak, trying to put all the concern and emotions into the tone of your voice. but sebastian has never been a very patient man.

“five years.”

he looks away again, still standing in that same spot that he picked for smoking all those years ago when he was still sneaking out of the house with you and abby to cough out every painful drag, making for a lot of laughs bouncing off the lake. yet another memory that the water holds.

“i know.” you sit down, take your shoes and socks off, and roll up your jeans. it’s been a while since you could rest your feet in the cold water and not feel the overwhelming hurt of missing pelican town. sebastian stands there for a few long moments before joining you, though not dipping his feet into the lake.

“five years without a word.” he’s bitter. sure, your grandpa had some news of your well-being, though not much more. that corporate job sucked out all joy from life, made taking vacations impossible, made you into a husk of who you once were, not the person who went skinny dipping with her friends almost every night in the summer right here in this lake. not the person who sneaked out of the farm house to smoke joint after joint with her best friends and make out with all of them, exploring the possibilities of human bodies. “and then you show up all smiley and try to pretend nothing’s changed.” sebastian spits the words, holding the cigarette in shaking fingers as he relights the end of it. “i didn’t think you’d show up even now that your grandpa–” “i get it.” you cut him off, stopping his angry tirade before it spirals into something else. “i get it, i wasn’t here. i feel guilty enough already, your negativity is… noted.” with a heavy breath you sigh and slide a little closer to the edge of the lake, getting the legs of your jeans damp, but it doesn’t matter. you deserve the shouting, you deserve the anger and frustration. but you’ve been putting yourself through it already, sebastian’s words only add to the burden already on your shoulders.

“why weren’t you?” he asks a question you pose to yourself every day. why didn’t i quit and come here? why didn’t i help grandpa after granny died? why didn’t i take a chance on a better life? you don’t know, it felt easier to follow some expected path. desk job, awful manager, boring dress code, decent pay, but declining motivation. in the end, you would’ve ended up completely dead inside, a shell of the girl you used to be, the girl who used to pack her bags as soon as school ended so she could be on the first bus to pelican town to spend her days helping out on the farm and the nights hand in hand with her favorite people in the world.

that girl would daydream every day about her friends, about the loud laughter and water splashing around her. purple hair swaying as abby ran to get the ball from the other end of the beach, alex throwing his gridball a little too close to pierre’s shop and running away together to avoid the punishment, haley’s annoyed voice when you messed up yet another carefully directed candid photo by laughing at just the wrong moment. emily draping you in silly fabrics to play dress-up when it was too hot to spend time outside, penny’s look of utter horror when you would crack the spine of your own book, running to maru’s secret lab to avoid her father’s chores when she couldn’t be bothered to do them. late-night bonfires with sam’s guitar as his mellow voice chased away the silence, sebastian’s eyes peeking over the top of his comic book as you sat across from each other on his bed and read together in peace.

now those eyes almost avoid yours, instead focusing on the tree in the middle of the lake. yet another piece of your summer lore, the memory of swinging from that tree to throw yourselves into the lake screaming and laughing. you wonder if sebastian thinks about those times as well, or if he’s so bitter that he can’t push past the abandonment.

“why wasn’t i here? i had a job , sebastian, i couldn’t just up and leave for the summer like i used to.” pushing the guilt away, you narrow your eyes, ready to put him in his place.

he doesn’t know what it feels like, being a slave to a big company, chained to your desk in an uncomfortable chair and a perpetually cold office. he’ll never be a part of that life, he said so himself, all those years ago as he decided to chase his own dreams, even if it meant struggling. you agreed with him then, promising to be an outcast with him, another promise this lake witnessed, now broken.

the comment stings, practically throwing your old agreement in his face, but you can’t care about that right now. it’s not easy, living in the city. he’s romanticized it all his life, always saying how lucky you are that you live somewhere so interesting, but it’s hardly that glamorous. it’s too busy, loud, demanding. there’s none of the energy you filled up on in those summers.

even the unbearable heat was somehow made less so when you were running from shade to shade, playing hide-and-seek with penny and sam before being called back to the farm to help granny in the greenhouse. gone were your favorite days, seeing drops of sweat on sam’s shoulders as he practiced his skateboard tricks in front of his house. abby and you sat on the step with ice cream melting down your hands, making everything sticky with liquid sugary vanilla in between your fingers. sometimes jodi would bring out freshly squeezed lemonade in a pitcher full of the cold beverage with huge ice cubes. you’d down the drink before sucking on the ice cubes until they also disappeared. it was easy, it was comfortable.

those memories kept you sane in the summer weeks in the office. the air conditioning didn’t work as it should and the company was too cheap to replace it, so the only solution was to fan yourself with thick notebooks that had photos of your friends stuck to the covers. photos taken with haley’s old polaroid camera, a little scuffed on the edges from being shoved into an old diary during packing. photos starring those sweet smiles that came to your friends’ lips so easily whenever you were around, smiles that lit up your nights and chased even the darkest nightmares away.

“oh okay so you became little miss very important and immediately forgot about the rest of us? you couldn’t have come to see us once ?” sebastian’s words hurt, but nobody can put you down quite like you yourself. you’ve been doing it for over twenty years, the experience is irreplaceable.

“that’s not fair, you could’ve called. the phone works both ways,” you reply, furrowing your brows further, “and besides, you think it was my idea to not have any fucking time off when i could actually come here?”

sebastian scoffs. of course he doesn’t think that, but it’s easier being angry with you than accepting the fact that he felt rejected, abandoned…

confused, especially after that last summer five years ago.

granny had passed away early that spring so you were needed on the farm then more than ever. grandpa’s hands didn’t work as well as they used to, his fingers were weaker and shakier, his knees gave out more often, and his back never truly straightened anymore. he worked harder than ever attempting to escape the overwhelming loneliness with the love of his life gone without any warning. your parents never got into the whole farming business. they came over for the funeral and kept asking if he would move with them to the city so they could keep an eye on him . he would’ve rather died alone in the middle of his parsnip field, he said. you had to admire the stubborn old man, the unwavering sense of loyalty to his land was something else. so he wiped his tears and kissed the framed photo of granny smiling with a large sunflower on her head every morning before he left the house to work. you focused on the farm more, finally having reached the age when he could trust you with more tasks, and you loved every second of it.

it was therapeutic, the cold earth between your fingers helped you become more connected with the land, and the animals seemed to look forward to your entering the barn and coop every morning. it was a life you thought you could get used to, even if it brought tears to your eyes whenever the greenhouse demanded attention. it was hers . it had granny’s heart and soul embedded in the glass panes and the fruit trees and those precious flowers. once you finally got over the anxiety of entering the warm structure, you could hardly leave again. sebastian found you in there often, remembering it as a place you were most likely to get stuck in if you hadn't shown up to the lake or to his house.

it was his gentle hands that picked you up off the ground and walked out with you to greet the moon and the stars. it was him who helped you talk about her and how much you missed her. it was him who kissed your cherry flavored lips when he saw them quiver. and it was you who leaned into the kisses every time, who lay down to feel his body on yours and his hands ridding you of your clothes. it was you who sought it out almost every day that summer, it didn’t matter when or where.

you had him in his bed, against the wall of his bedroom, on the beach, and behind a tree in the secret woods. he had you by the tide pools, on his desk, and in the lake by his house, making it another secret that the water kept.

both of you did your best to keep those bite marks hidden, not being able to keep your teeth to yourselves when the sex felt so good.

that summer could have very well been dubbed the best summer of your lives. if only it didn’t end with that cursed job offer.

“i know it wasn’t your idea, dumbass, but you could’ve let m– us know that we won’t see you again.”

“i’m here now.” it’s a piss poor response to his words full of hurt. he puts the cigarette out into the ground and doesn’t reach for another, instead turning to face you again, making you look into his eyes and see the state that he got himself into, spending five years wondering…

“yeah but are you? is it you or is it some… piece of shit corporate pawn that you swore you’d never be!” his hands shoot out to gesture as he raises his voice, finally showing the repressed emotions that have been bubbling up inside his chest for years, pushed down because he didn’t want to show that he cared, that he was hurt, that he felt discarded. was i really only good for that? good to fuck the grief out of you and have years of our friendship erased? he wondered that at night when he tried to sleep but all he could do was think about your body moving on top of his, he could still feel the dips in the mattress where your knees were when you threw your head back and moaned out his name. you looked like a goddess then, under the dimmed lights of his bedroom as his cock disappeared into you and elicited cute little curses from your red lips. “i thought we were on the same page.”

“i hardly had a choice, you know? a job is a job, and the money was good. i didn’t have the option to stay with my parents forever–”

“oh yeah, ‘cause i’m so thrilled with staying in my mom’s basement at this point!”

“you know what i mean and don’t put words in my mouth!” you sigh, it wasn’t supposed to turn into a fight.

all you wanted to do when you got to the lake was ask him how he’s been, not have a shouting match out in the open. he keeps quiet for a while, deciding to slide off his shoes and socks to cool off in the water. he doesn’t stop there, for the rest of his clothes also find themselves on the ground and he pushes himself into the lake. you can hardly believe what’s happening, it’s been so long since you saw his body only in boxers. sebastian swims away, not caring that he’s leaving the conversation or that there are words still stick in your throat.

exasperated, devastated that this is how your first meeting after five years is going, you lie on your back in the grass, keeping your feet in the water. fuck . of course it has to be terrible. of course, your expectation of sebastian always being such a low-maintenance friend should’ve ended the minute you let him go down on you the first time. but how were you supposed to know he really meant it? that it wasn’t just a thing friends did with each other when they got to the point of being too horny to function. you were so tired that summer, so worn out with sadness and exhaustion from taking on more farm work, it was easy deciding to cross a line with him. you’d thought about it extensively years prior, imagining what it would be like, but never really assumed it would happen outside of your head. and now you’ve fucked it up. destroyed nearly everything you’ve built since the first time you came to the farm.

“cherry…” sebastian’s voice startles you, making you flinch and immediately sit up. he swims closer, nearly to your knees with his hair swooping up as he pushes it back with one hand. he wipes his face with it, looking up with those familiar eyes. he’s missed you, despite being furious and crushed by your abandonment, he’s missed you more. “why didn’t you call?” his voice is nearly pleading, but you know he knows why. he knew what you were like, he’s spent many of your crises helping you breathe, rubbing your back, and whispering sweet hopeful words into your ear.

“i…” you swallow your tears and anguish, the guilt that devours you from the inside. “i couldn’t handle it anymore. i love it here but i was too fucking sad.” biting your lip for a second, trying not to burst into tears, you shake your head. this is not the time to lose your composure. so with another deep breath you continue. “i was so fucking sad because I felt that my life didn't lead anywhere if I didn't make something of myself in the city. stupid, I know. but once i was successfully made a cog in the machine I just got tired . I couldn't get away for long enough to recover, it was draining everything that made me me. and you would've hated me.” the tied strap around his wrist catches your eye again, sebastian places his palms on the edge where you sit, on either side of you as he looks up from the lake, wet hair pushed up and water droplets glistening on his pale face.

okay, so he hasn't changed that much, despite the images that your anxiety put into your head during those years away. he still has those deep eyes and unfairly thick eyelashes. he has a few healing scratches, most likely from the mines, on his cheek, the one that usually gets covered with his long fringe.

“how could I hate you, cherry?” his voice is still pleading, for a moment almost making you forget that he has every right to be angry. “sure, I was pissed off, I wanted to hate you. but you know the deepest parts of my heart, I could never feel that way about anyone else. even when you’re acting like a dick…” his hand reaches for yours, bringing it to his chest, right where his heart beats, “even when you're an insufferable, selfish, annoying brat that pushes all my buttons… even then I cannot hate you.” there is a hint of a smile on his cheeky lips, but you know you owe him more than what you gave.

“i’m really sorry. i missed you every day i was away.” you confess, eyes meeting his in an intense stare. his hand tightens around yours, like your apology is the last piece of the puzzle he has been trying to solve for years. “i missed everyone here, but I thought about you most of all.” you swallow, feeling your throat become drier than ever.

it's the most open you've been with someone since grandpa died, having responded to everyone's condolences with a sad smile and a weak thank you . but with sebastian it was never like that, you never felt like you had to hide what you were feeling, even if it was pain. both of you have been there for each other, and a bond like that doesn't snap so easily.

“missed me the most, huh?” his face shifts into a mischievous smile as he holds your hand against his heart.

the grip of his fingers tightens for a second, reminding you of all those times you ran with sebastian to escape the mayor’s stern look when you were sneaking around town, planting rotten vegetables under his door mat to piss him off after he shouted at sam for skateboarding in town. sebastian took your hand then, much like now, and he ran, dragging you after him to his house where you could finally stop and catch your breath.

you want to say more, reveal the depth of your feelings and how he infiltrated your poor heart, how you cried your heart out nearly every night since you got that job, how you became what you had promised him you never would, thinking he would hate you, call you a sell-out, see you for the weak conformist that you sold yourself to be. you want to tell him he has the central role in your dreams. that he matters most, and you need him now more than ever, already having felt his care and support when granny died.

everyone tiptoed around you and avoided mentioning her name that summer, but sebastian made sure to keep her memory alive by getting you to talk about her, joining you in the greenhouse to pick cherries with you, eating more than you'd put in the large basket. his fingertips were as red as yours, and you chased each other around the flowerbeds trying to wipe the fruit stains on one another’s face and clothes.

and now his cheeky smile reminds you of the one he wore then, hell-bent on keeping you, making sure you're not closing off from him and disappearing into your thoughts. it means trouble.

it distracts you long enough so you don't realise he's tugging you by that hand into the lake. with a quick, cut off yelp, you end up underwater. clothes and all. luckily, you have nothing in your pockets, your shoes have already been off, and all that's ruined in any way is the tiny sliver of dignity you had left. gasping for air you come up above the surface, hair stuck to your face, sebastian’s laughter in your ear. he holds your hand still, keeping you oriented as you cough out some water that entered your nose.

“you dick!” you cough out more, holding onto his chest and wiping your eyes with the other hand “oh i hate you so much!” a few more awful sounding coughs and you are fine, glaring at sebastian as he nearly drowns himself laughing at your angry face.

“no you don't, you can't !” he wraps one arm around your waist, using the other to swim and bring you both closer to the edge of the lake, letting you hold onto the firm ground as you push the hair out of your face.

“I could !” you protest, reaching out only to attempt to punch him in the chest, the water making your attempt laughable.

you both know it's a damn filthy lie. as you keep moving your feet to stay afloat, sebastian pulls you closer, turning you to face him. there is no escaping his attention now.

“don't disappear on me again,” his tone is serious, a contrast with his earlier laughter and mischief, “or i’ll have no choice but to glue myself to you. got it?”

“okay. promise.”

he nods, quickly pushing himself up and out of the water, offering you a hand to help you out. you can do it yourself, with only a little bit of wiggling before bringing a knee up to push yourself up as well and sit next to him, completely drenched as your clothes stick to your body.

“you look like a wet rat.” sebastian comments, nearly starting laughing again, but your glare in his direction stops him.

“i’m gonna get you back for this,” you promise, but you can’t stay angry for long, something about his wet body next to yours mellows you out and requires attention of your eyes on the pale glow of his skin and the way droplets race down his lean frame to reach the ground. memories of that same body flood your mind, how good it looked when he moved on top of you on this very grass, how well it fit against yours when you were pushed up against the shed door at the farm.

“gonna have to stick around for that, you know?” it’s like he’s testing out what you said earlier, trying to figure out if you really meant it, that you’re not going to disappear.

“i’m staying, g-gonna restore the farm. i owe it to them.” your hands gather all the wet strands of your hair and wring it out, you’re already on your feet and picking up your socks and shoes by the time that sebastian makes a move to gather his clothes and starts walking towards his house.

“you’re doing what ?” his tone is surprised like he didn’t even think that something could be done about the once-thriving farm that’s now overgrown and abandoned.

he must’ve ventured there occasionally, checking in on the state of it while it was occupied only by a weakening old man that enjoyed sebastian’s visits because he’d get to talk about his granddaughter. the man would tell him how proud he was of her success even if he wished she would make decisions that would bring her more happiness. they both knew she was happier in pelican town than anywhere else.

you shiver with the cold that attaches itself to your wet clothes, seeping into your bones quicker than you expect. sebastian notices and pulls you closer with an arm thrown over your shoulders. despite the fact that he is also wet, not providing much warmth at all, you’re grateful for the gesture. it reminds you of all the times you went skinny dipping with sam and abby. shy at first, but within what felt like only minutes, you stopped giving a shit about nudity, instead just having the time of your life with the best friends you could’ve asked for. if anything, it made all of you develop more appreciation for each other, seeing what you looked like under shimmering moonlight as water droplets reflected it off your skin.

“restoring it. i n-n-need to, grandpa l-l-left it t-to me– f-f-fuck i’m too c-cold.” your teeth chatter and it makes sebastian shift into gear, dragging you along to rush you into the house. robin’s barely covering a snicker while maru looks at you two with a raised eyebrow.

“what happened to you ?” maru chuckles, covering her mouth with one hand while the other holds a clipboard with way too many sheets of paper attached.

“decided to jump into the lake. she’s so silly, isn’t she?” sebastian quickly lies, dragging you down the stairs to the basement before you can tell him off and snitch on him.

“y-you little…” his laugh stops you from cursing him, it's a sound you've been dreaming of for five years. as he helps you out of your soaked clothes, not minding the puddle of lake water appearing around both of you while his bare feet left marks on the floor, you recall the first time you heard him laugh.

you must have been five at that point, and the memory is still clear as day in your mind. he'd always been suspicious of new people, so when you first saw him on the beach - him accompanied by robin and a very tiny maru in demetrius’ arms, you by your granny - he squinted at you as if to warn you not to come closer to his sand castle. you'd never made one yourself before, so the very idea of creating something so fun out of the thing you walk on was interesting. he waited for you to approach, and as soon as you did he told you he'd push you into the water if you ruined it. it was a simple, small construction, and you crouched to take a closer look, careful not to provoke the boy’s already present disdain. sebastian gave you a few moments to observe with wide eyes until he started explaining the purpose of each of the towers. this is where the prisoners are and the knights sleep in this one. this tall one is the wizard's tower. he can turn people into furniture. have you met the wizard? my mom says he doesn't like people that much. but he doesn't turn them into tables. I didn't ask about the frogs. do you think he turns people into frogs? his questions were neverending. he finally found a person who didn't seem to get annoyed with him for asking, who didn't look down at him for his fantasies of knights and wizards and castles. he made up adventures, led by groups of valiant warriors, fierce mages, and comforting healers, and laid them out so vividly, painting the world before you while all you could do was sit in your damp bathing suit on the wet sand and adoringly listen to him talk and gesture and raise his voice as the story came to an end.

in the end, with his little smile showing off a few missing teeth, he looked at you like he finally found his match. both sporting ice cream smudges on your faces, you spent the entire day talking over the sandcastle until your respective guardians decided it was dinner time and you were dragged away to get cleaned up before the meal. sebastian turned around and giggled over his shoulder why do you have red on your shirt? you hadn't even noticed it before, so looking down you remembered that granny asked you to remove cherry pits with her on the porch. it's from cherries! robin put her son's beach towel in a bag while her husband carried the baby, everyone waved goodbye but sebastian still took a few moments to look at you one last time that day, laughing again before waving with his small hand. okay, bye cherry! granny kept chuckling to herself as she wiped your cheeks clean of any ice cream you had smudged on yourself and she brought you a clean shirt. such a sweet boy, she chuckled at the nickname he had given you, don't usually hear sebastian talk to people much. she kept humming an old tune as she took your hand and walked back to the farm, the two of you catching the last orange rays of sun before the moon came out. she started calling you cherry that evening, and the idea spread throughout the town. sebastian. you repeated in your head. I wanna know more about the wizards.

twenty years later that same boy walks back into his bedroom only wearing his soaked boxers, but holding two large towels, passing one to you as he wraps the other around his waist and slides off his boxers from under it. you are still shivering like a leaf, peeling off your underwear to wrap yourself in the soft towel, leaving the clothes on the floor of his room before sitting on the edge of his bed.

“you okay?” his voice is as low as it usually was in this room, it’s his sanctuary, free from any loud noises that could ruin his peace.

“just thinking.” you offer a smile, this room brought back so many memories, including the ones of your first ever exchanged words and ideas.

“oh, careful, don’t want you to hurt yours– ouch!” he laughs when you punch his shoulder, holding onto the towel with one hand as the other withdraws from him.

you’re slowly getting back into the usual routine, the usual state of things that has always been so natural between you. with a sigh of relief you look around the room. it hasn’t changed much. almost at all, actually, though the keyboard on his desk is different and there are a few more books and comics on his shelves.

other than that, it’s how you remember it – posters covering most of the walls, along with a few photos stuck to the brick with messily torn tape. photos of his friends, of beach shenanigans, of sam’s birthday trips to zuzu city, and sleepovers in this very room. they coax a smile from your heart, tugging on the corners of your lips until sebastian notices and reaches out to poke your cheek gently.

“are you staying?” his voice is hopeful, so different now from the way he spoke to you when you just showed up at the door.

shaking your head, you force yourself to stand up. the movement reluctantly kicks him into gear, he nods and turns to his wardrobe to pull out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. you stop him bending down to grab a pair of soft boxers from the drawer.

“there’s no need, i’ll just put mine on when i get back.”

“right. you still got a big ass that barely fits into my boxers, eh?” his slight disappointment at your not staying over is masked by a cheeky teasing line.

“you little shit, that was one time! ” you try to swat at him again, but he laughs and throws the hoodie and sweatpants your way, making you reach out and catch them, dropping your towel onto the floor in the process.

it distracts him, the clear view of your damp body. the few seconds he has to catalogue every glowing inch of you soon end and he clears his throat, awkwardly unwrapping his own towel and turning to put on a dry pair of underwear.

“the one pair i will never be able to wear again, all because of your ass.” he chuckles and throws the comment over his shoulder, facing you again as he grabs the towel off the floor and starts drying his dark hair. you pull the string of the sweatpants tight, securing them around your waist, and cover the waistband with the hoodie.

“you keep complaining, but…” your cheeks heat up, visibly flustered you chuckle, “you and i both know you like it just the way it is.”

sebastian laughs, taken by surprise as you bring it up. yeah, he’s smacked it many times, grabbed it in his hands, kneaded it with those long fingers countless times. he’s left bite marks after bite marks on it, enjoyed the feeling of the soft flesh under his teeth.

“alright, alright. fine.” once he’s dressed and you’ve put your shoes back on, he throws one arm around your shoulder again, slipping back into the familiar flow of walking by your side. “let’s get you home then.”

it’s already dark by the time you’re out of the house, making the air a little colder as you walk down the path off the mountains. sebastian doesn’t ask you much, and you’re thankful for it. his hand is warm on your arm, holding you close to him like the old times. he always walked you home, no matter where you hung out, no matter how tired or stoned he was. it was the thing he never missed out on, waiting at the farm entrance until you’re inside, safe and sound.

he'd message you once he was home as well, partly because he didn't want you to worry, and partly because he wasn't ready to end the day.

and you loved those texts, pressing a pillow over your face so you don't wake up your grandparents with giggles as the sun came up. this time there is nobody to wake up as you two walk up the now-fixed steps of the porch and reach the hardwood door to the house.

your gaze settles on the bench by the door where granny used to sit. in an attempt to stop yourself getting emotional, you walk over to the railing and lean against it, postponing the inevitable moment when sebastian will have to leave you. the moment when you’ll be left alone in the farm house for the first night in your life. sebastian follows, his elbows rest on the smooth wood while he looks at the land ahead… and then at you. your skin tickles under the weight of his gaze, but you don’t sink under it. you return it. there’s that tension again, crackling in the air, electrifying the distance between your lips. if only you could…

“you can ask me to stay, you know?” sebastian’s voice is low, you can barely hear him as your eyes flit between his lips and his eyes.

“stay… here?”

“yeah, you don’t have to be alone. at least tonight.” his offer sounds like a plea, like it’s for his benefit just as much as it is for yours.

“just say you want to stay then,” you challenge him, feeling a smirk curl your lips, “say it and i’ll give in.”

you remember how he always had a way to make you agree to things, he always knew when you were just holding back for whatever stupid reason. it was always a stupid reason, and when you gave in you were glad you did. nights were infinitely better when sebastian was involved.

he rolls his lips together, hesitating only for a moment before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your temple. it’s the kind of softness you haven’t felt in a while, there was no time while you worked for joja corp. left to your own devices, you rarely ventured out to find a vent for the pent up frustration. and even when you did, it was never as good as it could’ve been, never as good as when it was with him .

“i want to stay.” sebastian murmurs, the shapes of the words traced on your cheek before he presses a kiss there. and another, slowly inching closer to your lips, challenging you to stop him. but he knows you won’t. you know it, too. all it takes is one move to end this tumultuous day with a bang. you tilt your head to the side, speeding up his lazy kisses until they reach the corner of your lips and stop. it takes enormous effort not to huff like a brat, not to furrow your brows and stomp your foot, crossing your arms just like when you were little and granny wouldn’t let you eat ice cream before lunch.

“cherry, don’t be like that…” sebastian shifts and pushes off the railing, moving to stand behind you and press himself against your back. those familiar palms of his glide up your arms, chasing away the slight bite of cold in the night air. “can’t go from not seeing you in five years to giving you everything right away.”

he drags his hands up to your shoulders and then down your torso, gripping and grabbing along the way, reacquainting himself with every part of you. fingers trailing your skin under his hoodie, yoba he loved seeing you wear his clothes , lips dragging along the nape of your neck, sebastian is indulging in all the fantasies he has had for years. your mind is racing, recalling every instance when you’d lie in bed struggling to sleep and resort to getting yourself off to an old memory of sebastian’s head between your thighs. it never felt the same, his tongue just knew your body too well, it felt better gripping his soft hair than closing your fists around cold sheets of your uncomfortable bed back in zuzu.

a little sigh escapes you once his lips reach your ear. with a gentle tug of his teeth on your lobe he drags a startled moan out of you. you can feel his self-satisfied giggle better than you can hear it as he trails those smirking lips down to the corner of your mouth once again, before capturing it in a devouring kiss.

head tilted to the side, your lips move together like a well-oiled machine, familiar in the way they taste, of coffee and a little bit of smoke. his one hand rests on the softness of your stomach while the other kneads your breast gently. the hoodie rides up and the cold air sends shivers through you, but sebastian keeps rolling his hips against you, grinding against your ass. despite how long it’s been, his hands seem to still know your body, despite how many people he’s been with since – a thought you don’t want to dwell on – his touch on your skin feels like home.

sebastian sounds more and more desperate, the little groans as your tongues glide together betray him. as you open your eyes, he keeps moving, pulling away from the kiss to hungrily suck on the skin of your neck, all the while his hands quickly tug the waistband of his sweatpants you’re wearing down, once again baring your plump ass to his eyes. one bruise blooming on your neck, another is already in the making as he thanks yoba you didn’t take his boxers when you changed in his room. it’s a quick exchange, a breathy do you wanna answered with an instant yes please ‘cause you have always been polite, even when bratty.

the usual, grabby, movements of his hands knead and savor the flesh of your body, as if mapping it out to make sure it’s still the same body that left him five years ago. it’s a little different, but so was his, you have a little more meat on your bones, something that sebastian cannot seem to get enough of. with a fluid movement he tugs his own sweatpants down, freeing his erection as it springs out and immediately ends up pressed against you again.

“sweet yoba on a treetop, cherry… i missed you more than you know.” breath glides from his mouth along your neck, it’s warmer than the memories it brings up.

you murmur something sappy back at him, making him chuckle through the heavy breathing as he slides the sweatpants lower on your legs, letting them pool around your feet. your movements are almost as smooth as that last summer you were here, only a little rusty as you lift one leg up, stepping out of the sweatpants and resting the knee on the railing and leaning forward. immediately it’s a familiar feeling, the tip of his already leaking cock pressing so gently against your soft cunt, almost being sucked in with how much you’ve missed him. even when you found the time and will to go out, none of the encounters felt good like this, none of them left you feeling anything other than disappointment and regret. you try not to think about them, or about him fucking anyone other than you, and those creeping thoughts are swiftly chased away by the intense feeling of him fitting his entire length inside you. sebastian groans, shifting his hips to feel the softness of your ass against him, to feel your wetness gather at the base of his cock while he adjusts to the feeling of being inside you once again.

“five years…” he shakily breathes out, repeating the same words he said at the lake, but in a tone of relief, his anticipation finally coming to an end. “i’ve imagined it a lot, but nothing comes close to the real you.”

and so it starts. with a gentle groan against your skin, with a slow moan slipping from your lips, he pulls away only to thrust back into you. this is it , you think, what i’ve been chasing . this intimate feeling even though you’re outside, not the riskiest thing you two have done, but enough to check the adventurous box on your shared checklist. with a tilt of your head to the side you catch his blissed out face, his soft lip caught between his teeth and eyes closed as he thrusts again, colliding his hip bones with your flesh, his balls gently smacking against your clit. it’s difficult trying to keep your eyes open, but the expression on his face is too beautiful to miss out on. your juicy lips part, letting out sweet honeyed moans that you almost try to stop, instincts telling you to be quiet around the farm house. instead, you grip the handrail as hard as you can, feeling it dig into you with every lurch forward.

sebastian holds you by the hips, digging his fingertips into your supple skin to hold you steady while fucking into you, fitting his cock head against all your sweet spots, hitting right where you need him to, where you’ve needed him for years. hearing those raspy moans coming from his throat brings up so much warmth in your belly, already building up the orgasm even though you have just started, and you suspect it’s the same for him. maybe it’s because of the fact that you haven’t had sex in a while, maybe it’s the roller-coaster of emotions you’ve gone through in the past twenty-four hours, or maybe it’s a secret third thing, but you can already feel your orgasm approaching as you near the brink. sebastian’s hand creeping around your body to rub your clit in circles doesn’t help hold it off either.

“i’m n-not gonna last–” you stutter out, still keeping your eyes on his perfect, blushing face.

“me neither, c-come on cherry…” he groans, circling your sensitive clit with gentle fingers, always working perfectly with what your body needs.

the pace of his hips changes as soon as your warm cunt tightens around him, squeezing him and keeping him in while your legs shake, threatening to give out. he stutters in those slow movements, speeding up to carry you over, and leans down to press tender kisses to your bruised neck, whimpering as he pulls you by the hips a little harder, moving you against him until he gasps and spills all he has inside you, sticky white liquid covering your soft walls. sebastian slowly comes to a stop, taking a few long moments to kiss you, holding your head turned towards him as he pulls out with a sigh. now soft, he groans at the sight of his release starting to drip out of you and onto the deck. it’s almost enough to make him take you again, but he’s spent, having finally experienced you again, pure pleasure that was just out of reach until today, perfection incarnate.

“think it’s dripping on your sweats,” you chuckle, finally catching your breath, “sorry.”

sebastian shakes his head, pulling up his boxers and sweatpants before helping you lower your leg and picking up the crumpled (and stained) sweats off the floor. one day you’ll stop apologizing for things that aren’t really your fault, but today is not that day. jiggling the doorknob you stumble inside, carried by wobbly legs as sebastian trails after you.

it’s odd going through your usual nightly routine in a nearly empty house. the radio is off, and so are most of the lights. the bathroom light takes a few seconds to turn on, you make a mental note to fix it in the morning, but for the time being it’s enough just to exist in this space, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. it feels different when it’s only yours, when it will be only yours for a long while. despite the heaviness of that realization, sebastian’s footsteps ease the pain, his satisfied humming disperses the bad thoughts looming in the corners of your mind, silencing them as he comes up behind you while you brush your teeth.

his arms wrap around your waist, your shoulder is the perfect spot for his chin to rest on while he presses little kisses to the bruises he sucked into your neck earlier.

“i put the sheets on your bed, that okay?” his gentle voice fills your chest with relief. you didn’t tell him that you wanted to sleep in your own bed, not yet ready to take over the main bedroom as your own. he just knew. you nod before leaning over the sink to spit out the foam and rinse your mouth. kissing him feels like the safest way to say thank you, not triggering the tears again.

the two of you drag yourselves to your old room, undressing slowly until you’re naked before reaching into your suitcase to put on a pair of panties. deciding to forgo a pyjama top, you slip under the fresh sheets smelling of sebastian’s fabric softener – robin must have taken them for a wash before you got here. pulling the string on the bedside table lamp immerses the room into darkness once more. dark and silent, it would be enough to push you into a pit of despair were it not for sebastian’s warm arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you so close that you entwine your legs with his. nearly face to face now, you close your eyes to inhale his scent, thanking the universe for giving him enough initiative to stay with you tonight. gently, he hums, presses a few delicate kisses to your forehead, and starts rubbing gentle circles on your lower back.

“thank you,” you murmur against the base of his neck, feeling your minty breath against your lips, “i wouldn’t have made it to bed if you weren’t here.”

“hmmm,” pursing his lips before pressing another kiss to your forehead, he sighs, “but thank fuck one of us has common sense, huh?”

a gentle chuckle shakes his chest, words leaving his mouth causing you to attempt a smack on his shoulder, but you give up, instead giggling along. you fall asleep to the sound of his voice, slipping into the sweetest sleep you’ve had in a while as he tells you about all the random things that have happened in the valley since you left, now with no bitterness in his voice.

waking up to the chirping of birds was the norm in the summer, but the sound wasn’t quite right this time. it is an owl, the low hoot snaps you out of your peaceful dream making you lift your head to get you bearings, take a moment to remember where you are and why you can smell sebastian’s presence.

it’s okay, we’re okay, you comfort yourself, once again settling into his embrace, smiling as his arms instinctively tighten around you.

then he moves, taking a deeper breath and shifting to roll over on top of you. only once you feel his lips trail along your neck do you realize he is also awake, alert, and not interested in simply falling back to sleep.

it starts with gentle kisses, lips savoring the taste of your skin, along with some light touches, his hands roaming your sides and settling on your hips. his lips connecting with your skin are the only source of noise in the room, finally being joined by moving bodies against the sheets once you arch your body into sebastian and let his hands travel around your back, squeezing every piece of flesh he can reach. he doesn’t start grinding against you immediately, instead he kisses down to your chest, taking a nipple between his lips while one of his hands sacrifices its warm place on your hip to hold the other breast, kneading it to make some tasty moans spill from your lips.

like he’s getting drunk off the sounds from your mouth, he gently presses his teeth against your nipple, tugging on it how he remembers you liking it. moving downwards, he lifts his gaze up to see you jutting your chin up, pressing the back of your head on the pillow as your hips lift, seeking for more, for what only he can give you. warm kisses make a winding path down your bare stomach, peppered with gentle bites of his impatient teeth as your thighs spread, letting him slot himself in between them like the good old times.

sebastian’s clever fingers hook under your panties, but he doesn’t remove them, the cheeky fuck. instead, he presses them tighter against your soft pussy, slowly getting wetter with his attention and creating a sweet little damp patch on the fabric. he cannot help but press a delicate kiss to it. the tiniest whimper leaves you, spurring him on to press another kiss, and then another, making your underwear wet with his saliva as well as your arousal. his voice vibrates over your sensitive clit as he hums, praising you quietly as he slides his wet tongue along the material of your panties, pushing it in between your squishy folds before he finally slides them off, once he’s had enough of teasing you. once more he kisses your bare pussy, showing his affection through murmured praises and compliments. look how pretty, sebastian hooks his arms under your knees, bringing your legs over his shoulders before he dives in. so sweet f’ me , your breath gets shorter quickly, his tongue glides around your clit slowly, pretty and wet how i like her, he parts you with practiced ease, making you remember how it felt back then. how it felt when he was just starting, getting better with each night that he spent between your pretty thighs, i’ve missed it so much, making you scream out into his pillow and thanking yoba his walls were thick enough for his whole family not to hear you. could do this all fucking night, gentle slurping noises mixed with the hums coming from his mouth fill the air, coaxing moan after moan from you. it’s the first time you’re doing anything like this in the farm house, a christening in a way.

very soon, your moans get higher in pitch, they give way to whines as your hands find purchase in sebastian’s hair, tugging it only a little closer, cum for me, cherry, come on baby. and then your toes curl. shuddering, you cry out a desperate plea, lifting your hips up once more for sebastian to feel your slick cover his lips and chin. feasting on you, he licks his lips, not letting a single drop of you go to waste. he’d rather drown in you, rather give you his all than give up a molecule of your release, because it’s his. it’s all for him and it’s all because of him. he slowly helps you ride it out, licking gently between those slick folds as you relax, as your breath gets slower, and your legs stop shaking. one last kiss, he tells himself, pressing a single tender kiss to your clit as he pulls away slowly, wiping his face with his hand and licking it off, almost moaning and savoring the taste of you.

finally you open your eyes, the fuzziness around the edges of your vision persists, but the goal has never been clearer. sebastian leans in for a kiss on your lips and you snake your arms around his neck, bringing him in to wrap your legs around him, a move you would always pull in an attempt to wordlessly say thank you for treating you so well, for giving you what you needed without asking for anything in return. but you always gave him something in return, always made time for him, especially that summer. much like then, but with a little more desperation and need, he rubs his clothed cock against you, making you wince as it teases your overstimulated clit.

“shit i’m sorry.” he starts apologizing, stuttering over his words. you’re quick to shut him up, kissing him and poking at his tongue with yours, moaning as you taste your release on his lips. it’s the sexiest thing, the undeniable proof of his devotion to you. and when he pulls away for a moment to slide his boxers off, you use it to look over his body, sighing with satisfaction at seeing him in the sliver of moonlight dripping through the window of your room, bouncing off his lean torso and the lines of his beautiful face. your breath hitches in the second before he leans back down, this time grinding against your pussy with no barriers, no cursed clothes between you. leaning on his elbow, he reaches down with the other hand to lift your leg up, hooking it around his hips as he gently prods your entrance, hissing once his tip pokes into you.

“ h-aah please, seb… need you again.” your syrupy plea has him groaning as he dips his head to bury it into your neck, trying to hold on and keep his breath steady.

“cherry… fuck i’ve missed you, missed you so damn much i couldn’t breathe…” sebastian’s raspy voice glides over your skin as he sucks on your neck once more.

“i- i missed you too, so much, so much.” you gasp when he pushes his tip into you again, settling nicely inside as he keeps pushing, keeps making you take him again, “ so fucking much .” he hears you whine, ears perking up once he’s fully in. feeling your wetness on the base of his cock, feeling you contract around him, it’s almost enough to make him give up on the niceties and use you like a fuck toy, like his own hand that was getting the sticky end of things for five long years.

“whine for me again, p-please, cherry.” he swallows hard, staying buried in you until you gather your thoughts, take a few short breaths, and whine like your throat was begging for it.

only once you let it out does he pull back and thrust into you again, setting a slow pace to make you feel every vein on his aching cock, every inch that was waiting for you while you were away. and he gives them to you, so readily he feeds your cunt all his passion and all his love, stuffing it full of him as he speeds up a little, aiming to hear more of those saccharine moans you willingly let out of your throat. they fuel him, make him snap his hips harder, reminding you what’s been waiting for you all this time, what you can have with him. almost like feeling you for the first time, like you didn't fuck on the porch mere hours ago, he ruts into you desperately, needily pulling noises from your throat and his own.

heavy breaths roll off his tongue, groans and whimpers and curses mixed with your name. your eyes teeter between opening and closing, catching glimpses of his parted lips, his focused eyes, even looking down to see that old strap of your shirt tied securely around his wrist. you sniffle, taking a moment between lewd moans to take in the fact that he really waited for you, that he’s been sure of your connection and you never left his mind. you didn’t just belong to the summers, salt drying on your bodies as the sun burned memories into your skin. you belonged to eternity.

when you cry out his name, coated in that pretty, desperate tone, you know he feels you getting close. his thrusts speed up, bringing you both to the edge of an orgasm while your breaths quicken, mixing together until he hungrily dives in to kiss you again, to steal the whimper from your lips. grabbing for him, gripping his back with one hand and his arm with the other, you hold yourself steady, moaning into his mouth until you break. colors spark behind your eyes, electricity zips from your fingertips to your toes. you finish with a whine that sebastian immediately takes for himself, stuttering in his movements once your tight cunt contracts and squeezes him, keeping his cock inside while he spills his release inside you, slowing down to moan and breathe against your plush lips. the whole world stops when you’re done, sebastian’s weight covering you like a blanket of solace, his breath dancing on your cheek as he gathers strength to pull out and slump onto the mattress.

once again you find yourself in a comfortable position, sebastian’s arms wrapped around you, your face buried in his chest, legs entwined together under the warm covers. he’s softly talking into your hair, peppering you in gentle kisses in between sentences while you both try to drift off to sleep.

“and after coffee we can take a shower, we can drag out the morning, you’ll see, nothing important happens on spring mornings. then i’ll help you unpack,” his voice slows down, and so does your mind, “and… then we can… we can clear the farm together and…” he yawns, a small sigh escapes you as you snuggle a little closer, completely spend and happy. “and then we’ll get to work on th… the land and–”

you don’t get to hear the end of his train of thought, already dozing off, already dreaming again, tired and safe in his embrace.

♡ if you enjoyed this, consider leaving a like, reblog, or a comment. interaction helps keep your writers motivated! also if you don't agree with any aspect of this that's okay, this is just my opinion and it's hella self-indulgent!

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