#if anyone has any requests for who I should do next lmk!!

[sparkp18]

I present the next of my boyos: Skywarp :D!! One more to go and the trine will be complete ehehe

Lineart under the cut !!

I am lowkey ridiculously happy with this design LMAO. I feel like the long hair is maaaybe ooc for him but ehhh fuck it we ball

I’ll do TC next and then who knows!! Soundwave maybe??

[theproverbialpen]

So I uh. Thought of a joke while moving. And unfortunately, I am the final boss of “Commit to the Bit.” So have an unnecessarily detailed series of drawings lol.

Anyways hi! Hope y’all have been well! Other than answering asks, it’s been a while since I dropped content up in this B. Updates below the cut, if you’re curious :)

Proverb’s Personal Life

As of last week, I am officially moved into my new place! Still working on unpacking (you can accumulate a lot of shit over two years) and my PC will need a good ol’ dusting before I get her back online, but we’re making progress slowly but surely. Hoping to get settled and make some time to start writing again next week :)

However, updates will be slower than I originally anticipated becaauuuuuse I also got promoted at my job! Very excited for this next step but it uh, does mean 5 hours of overtime every week (the pay is worth it I promise, we must do what we must do in this capitalist hellscape). So, will be making time to write when I can but there’ll definitely be more of a gap between posts versus pre-move.

Speaking of writing though:

Update “Schedule”

Schedule in quotations because I’m not going to have dates attached to these per se. However, wanted to give y’all an idea of what you can expect to be coming on this here blog:

Hermes Lap Dance One-Shot. Should be easy enough to write and I think it’ll be a good warmup for getting back in the groove!

Chapter 7 of SiSeSo. I think this next chapter is gonna be smut? Have to see how it flows once I get going, but I have a basic skeleton and if it feels natural, we’ll be heading right back into the spice very soon 😈

Poseidon x Reader A/B/O Drabble. Listen I…as we can see, a bitch commits to the bit. If anyone has any fic recs for inspiration lmk cause I really do kinda want to send it on this one 😂

I also have a WIP drawing of Rockstar Poseidon in the works, as well as some other doodle ideas. More art on the horizon, but who knows when I’ll get those done haha.

Also, my ask box is always open if you have requests! I’m a little rusty in the writing department at the moment so happy to work on some drabbles and such if folks have anything they’d like to see :)

AO3 Scrape Incidents

I reblogged something a little while ago about the AI data scrapes that happened on AO3 and it’s still something I’m looking to address. I’ll probably be switching my works to Registered Users Only when I get the time just so folks are aware. Considering doing a series of backlog posts here on tumblr of all my content just so folks have another option to read. But, if you want to continue reading on AO3 and you don’t have an account, please be aware that you’ll need to register for one moving forward!

I think that’s everything for now? Hope you enjoyed my stupid little comic and I’m looking forward to being more active on here again！

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[jezabelle9299]

First Time(s)

Overture-- Light angst, light smut. These two virgin losers are in LOVE and I've been meaning to post this for like months. Also also it's a while into their relationship but there's no excessive meaning put on sex in particular, it's more of an insecurity thing.

A/N-This part is like 2k words already so I'll do a second part for this around tomorrow I think? Also this is my first time writing anything sexual, and my first time writing anything in like 4 months so lmk if you have any critique, but go a little easy on me. And again please let me know if you have any ideas or requests because I'm trying to get back into writing more consistently.

CWs-- SEXUAL CONTENT-- No penetration but almost everything leading up to it (it just got so so long I'll do the next part soon I swear). No mention of birth control or condoms (that comes later). Loss of virginity but no mention of hymens because I hate that imagery.

It was a beautiful date. Spencer was such a gentleman, you both had a great time, and now on top of it all he was driving you home. One hand on the steering wheel and one hand on your thigh, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling in your brain at the end of every date since the first. The what would happen next decision. The way he looked at you like you were the world.

“Hey, can we talk when we get back to my apartment?” you rushed out, and his eyes narrowed as his brow furrowed in confusion. Then his hand immediately tensed on your thigh. and you knew what he was thinking. He thought this was a breakup conversation, when it was quite the opposite. You and Spencer had done some things, but they were pretty PG. You hadn’t gone out with anyone before Spencer, let alone done anything. The guys you liked were shy, and since you were too, you were out of luck on the dating front. Until Spencer, who was absolutely perfect, and absolutely freaking out. 

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise you’ve been perfect.”  He relaxes a little, but you could see the confusion still etched on his face even though his eyes were on the road. 

Luckily you brought this up when you were close so he didn’t have to sit in anticipation long. When he pulled into the same spot he always parked in, he immediately jumped up to open the door for you. Obviously, he’s opened every door for you since you started dating almost 2 months ago. You made an attempt to reassure him by holding his hand on the walk up to your apartment, but he was still worrying. After locking the door behind you, you lead him to the couch, before sitting next to him and turning to face him. 

“So-uh what did you want to talk about?”  Well now you can’t hide the embarrassment on your face at having this conversation. You may have initiated it, but actually doing it is way harder than expected. I mean you’d never done this. And you may not have any experience but you’re sure he has. I mean he’s an FBI agent, he’s so smart, and sweet, and handsome, he must have done this before. He’s been panicking about this conversation for like 10 minutes now so you have to tell him, there’s no going back now. 

“So-um- I really like you, and we’ve been dating for a– for a bit, so maybe the–um sexual stuff will come up soon. So I thought that I should probably tell you, that I haven’t–really…uh” And while you were floundering by the mercy of god he interjected, and for the first time since you asked him to talk recognition filled his eyes. He realized what you meant, or at least thought he did.

“Oh. Oh. You’re a virgin?” While relief painted your features at him guessing half of it, you still had a bit to get through, so you bit the inside of your cheek and looked down to gather your courage. 

“Well, yes, but also I’ve never done… any of it.” He’s confused again. Full head tilt, furrowed brow, confused. You had to continue. 

“I’ve never gone out with anyone else, I guess no one’s really ever liked me like that, and um before our first date I had never– kissed anyone else.” 

“Oh.”  realization dawned on him and you were ready for him to run for the hills. He didn’t though. He was as nervous as you, but he just leaned forward, elbows on his knees, so he could look you in the eye.

 “Did I do anything that made you uncomfortable?” Oh no. No. You needed to correct him. Fast.

“No! No, everything’s perfect. I just thought that I should tell you. I mean I get if it makes you uncomfortable, especially since I’m sure you’ve had experience and I really like you, but I know there’s pressure from that, and I didn’t want to put that on you. And I also don’t know how–uh, how good that would be.” He moved closer and a wave of relief washed over you when he grabbed your hand. 

“Hey, I don’t you know, have experience that is. I mean I’ve done some things but not–not all of them. That’s why I hadn’t really brought it up, I was a little nervous because–” his cheeks were probably as red as yours by now, and he couldn’t look you in the eyes for more than half a second at a time. 

“Because I really like you too and you're really, really hot.”

“The entire time we’ve been dating I don’t think you’ve ever described me as hot before.” That was exactly what both of you needed to undercut the tension of the moment, dissolving into small fits of laughter that sent you leaning into each other. 

When you sat back up you moved the hair that had fallen in your face behind your shoulder and looked at where your hands were joined. You couldn’t look him in the eyes for this part. 

“Would you like to try?” He looked shocked, as if you hadn’t just been talking about it. But he gave a rushed nod, and you leaned over to kiss him. His perfect lips. His hands ran across your body, before landing firmly on your waist. He hesitantly pulled you onto his lap and you squealed, surprised by the graceful show of strength from him. He started to kiss down your jaw, and you giggled as he moved down your neck. Partly because you were just so happy, and also because his hair was tickling your shoulder.

He loved the sound of your laugh. It was his favorite sound, he couldn’t help but smile into your neck as he kissed you– god he could stay like this forever. The close second to your laugh was the sound that came after. He sucked on your neck, right on the pulse point and you moaned. He needed you, more than anything or anyone ever had. The couch however, wasn’t exactly the most romantic place. This was your first time too, and he had to make sure you were ok to keep going.

“Do you want to–” He let out a shaky exhale, almost like a laugh, and not quite a moan. “Bedroom?” He finally spoke into your neck, before pulling away to look at you, with those big brown puppy dog eyes, hair all tousled from you running your hands through it. You couldn’t say yes fast enough. 

You held onto his broad shoulders to move off his lap before running your hands down his arms until your hands joined again. You pulled him off the couch and down the hall before arriving at your room. 

As soon as you were in there you were back on each other, clumsily unbuttoning his shirt while trying not to break the kiss, until he pulled back. His hands found the hem of your shirt, and paused, waiting for you to indicate it was ok to remove. When you nodded, he smiled. That nervous, perfect, smile you saw for the first time when he asked you out for your first date, and you said yes. 

When you’d both managed to pull your shirts off, he laid you down on the bed. He knelt beside you, arms on either side of your body as he kissed down your torso, muttering compliments into your skin all the time. “Is this ok?” he asked when he got to your waistband. You nodded, immediately replying with a breathy “Yes, Spencer, please.” 

He was still flushed, and he nodded, his eyes looking up at you and they were practically glazed over. He looked perfect like this. When he slid his hands down, he removed your underwear with your pants. Then he moaned. You hadn’t even really gotten to touch him yet and he was the one moaning.

“You’re so perfect.” He placed an open mouthed kiss to your hip bone. “There’s something I–really want to try, can I? It might not be very good, but I really–please?” You had a guess as to what he was wanting and you were nervous. You were sure he’d take care of you though, and you could never say no to him. You never even wanted to try. 

“Anything Spence, just please touch me?” His eyes lit up, he still couldn’t believe this was happening. You, amazing, beautiful, you, wanted this. Wanted him. He kissed up your inner thighs, savoring every second, until he got where you really needed him. 

He was…ambitious, and surprisingly good. Especially since he was as new to this as you were. When he brought you to your breaking point, sucking on your clit after what felt like hours of sweet torture, but was realistically only minutes. he held your thighs apart as they shook, his touch equal parts reassuring as it was firm. With your head lolled back and eyes closed you didn’t see him as he started to stick one of his fingers inside you. The sensation caught you off guard, and all you could think was Spencer, Yes, and Please? 

The sound that snapped you back to reality was his voice, as he moaned more praise into you. “Oh my god you’re so perfect, feels so good.” Your eyes snapped back down to him. He was enjoying this as much as you were, he was grinding down on the bed. His eyes met yours as he curled his finger inside you, hitting a spot you couldn’t reach if you tried, and you had tried. The sensation wasn’t what pushed you over the edge for the second time, it was the image of him. 

His eyes were all pupils, his hair a mess, and squirming against the bed just from touching you. But he didn’t stop after you came back down, not until he cleaned you up. When you started wincing away from overstimulation, he moved back up your stomach, leaving open mouth kisses all the way. 

“Do you want to keep going? I know you just–, if you want to be done we can be.” 

You were not ready to be done. You pulled his lips back to yours, then let your hands move down his chest to unbutton and unzip his pants. When he pulled away to catch his breath, you decided to tell him you wanted him one more time for safety. 

“Please, Spencer, I just need you ok?” His eyes were already wide as saucers, but they somehow got even bigger. In one motion he was as bare and vulnerable as you were. You looked down, and he was–big. You were as ready as ever, especially after the last few minutes, but this was still not going to be without difficulty. But you wanted to try, you wanted this. When he looked into your eyes though he didn’t see the overwhelming love and desire you had for him though, he saw the flash of hesitancy. In his worst nightmare he thought he saw fear. 

“What’s wrong, did I do something? We can stop anytime, I promise. What can I do?” You knew it would crush him if he thought for one minute you didn’t want this, want him, but were continuing anyway. You were quick to correct him. 

“No! No– it’s just that you’re bigger than I had expected and I wanted this to be perfect and I’m worried I’ll ruin it.” His eyes went from panicked to full of empathy. 

“You are perfect. You could never be anything less than wonderful, we can try, if you want and if it gets to be too much just let me know and I’ll stop that very second. Does that sound alright?” He was perfect.

“That sounds good” You breathed a sigh of relief, but Spencer still had a flash of hesitance on his face. When you asked him if he still wanted to, he nodded immediately, but he needed to gather his courage for this.

“Could you just. If you hate it, could you promise you’ll tell me? I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.” He knew that right now you wanted it as much as he did, but he also knew you’d do things you hate for the sake of another person’s feelings. His greatest fear was you doing something to spare his feelings, laying yourself down on the altar, suffering for his benefit. 

“I don’t think I could ever not love it when it’s with you. I have very good taste.” With that you pulled him down to you by the shoulders, kissing him and starting again in earnest.

[heartzfromel]

Hello !

Please make my dream come true! 50!s Agatha protecting lesbian reader who wear men's clothing (if you are ok writing this topic of course)

Thank you very much !

and what about it? || 50s!agnes x reader

tags; touchy agnes, agnes & wanda are r’s best friends, dottie being evil, r being made fun of for how she’s dressed, yearning, light makeout

a/n; i actually loved writing this, i hope i did ur idea justice! also i love this pairing so like if anyone has any other requests for these two, not as like a series but as a group of one shots that can still be standalones pls lmk bc i ❤️ 50’s!agnes !!!!!!!

hands shaking, you made your way over to the group, who sat huddled together around dottie’s pool, except for agnes and wanda, who both sat slightly further away, agnes pouring more alcohol into her glass, and wanda sipping what she already had gently as the pair giggled at what seemed to be an inside joke. as the gate creaked open, the pair spun around to look at you.

you knew you dressed differently to the other women, opting for trousers and jackets over dresses and cardigans, but you didn’t see why it should be as big of a deal as it was, and neither did your two friends. you could tell that this was not going to be the case with this particular group of people as soon as you saw their expressions.

“oh my god, what is she wearing?” dottie asked, earning a giggle from the rest of the girls, bar agnes and wanda, as she swirled her drink.

this is a bad idea you thought, grateful that you’d recieved an invite from wanda, but currently wishing that the idea to do so had never ever crossed her mind. as you spun on your heel, deciding that you should just leave, agnes grabbed your wrist, tightly.

“hiya, hon!” she grinned, moving over on the seat and motioning for you to sit next to her. the grip on your wrist loosened, but never left as she began to fidget with a chain bracelet that you wore around it, a birthday gift from wanda. dottie opened her mouth to say something else, but agnes shut her up quickly, sending a glare in her direction. she seemed to get the hint as she looked back at the other girls to join in on a conversation, probably about some gossip that you didn’t care about.

you sat, listening to wanda recounting a story about when she was moving in with vision, as the three of you giggled. agnes lifted her hand, and when she put it back down, it rested on your thigh, causing your breath to hitch slightly. you had always known agnes to be quite a physical person when it came to showing affection, you had both seen it and experienced it first hand, but the way she linked arms with wanda and touched her arm when she found something shocking or funny were very different to her holding your waist when she was talking to or messing with your hair when she thought you weren’t looking.

suddenly, the conversation going on with the other women died down, and dottie cleared her throat.

“you know, y/n,” she began, causing agnes to roll her eyes and reach for the wine yet again, “you could be really pretty if you weren’t dressed like that.”

“well thank you dottie, really appreciate it.” you spat, ready to leave.

“why is it that you dress like that again?” she asked, glaring up at you.

“because i like it.” you replied, frustration lacing your tone.

“but you look like a boy.” she replied, furrowing her brows.

“and what about it?” agnes butted in, something in her tone that you’d never heard before, “what’s it doing to you?”

“agnes-“

“no, hon! i want her to answer me.” she was seething.

dottie could do nothing but mumble as agnes downed the rest of her drink, and dragged you out of dottie’s garden by the waist.

“agnes, you didn’t have to-“ you mumbled as she led you out.

“i know i didn’t, doll.” she nodded, as you stopped out on the street.

“so why did you?” you asked, wanting answers,

“i didn’t like how she was talking about you, baby.” she replied, before she stopped as the nickname seemed to slip out of her.

“what is this, agnes?” you asked, preparing yourself for her answer.

“what’s what?” she laughed, nervously.

“this.” you motioned between you, “this ‘doll, baby, hon, darling’.”

“well they’re just nicknames.” she smiled, trying to play it off.

“i don’t see you calling wanda baby.” you pressed.

“well that’s because…” she started, but the words seemed to run away from her.

“that’s because what, agnes? use your words.” you whispered, as her hands pulled you closer and yours fell onto her waist. her breath hitched.

“i don’t want to.” she let out all in one breath, and she couldn’t even take another one before her lips were on yours. you weren’t sure what you were expecting when she kissed you, but it was not this. you couldn’t get enough of each other. her lips fought with your own as she backed you into the wall of dottie’s house, gasping for air between kisses. she kissed you harder, running her hands through your hair as you let out a quiet noise.

“what do you say i take you home, huh hon.” she mumbled as she attempted to break the kiss.

“sounds good.” you replied, before you closed the gap between you again.

[heartburriedinvenice]

the end is undeniably near (and i keep running towards it) - steve h.

(steve harrington x hopper!reader)

a part of my phoebe challenge 🎞🪐💌🕯

based on the song "i know the end" by phoebe bridgers

in which you always wanted to escape hawkins, indiana, until you didn't anymore.

or

in which the billboard said "the end is near"

content warning post season 3 (SO SPOILERS), mild cursing (maybe), ANGST like the whole time, unhealthy coping, and hawkins being hawkins, reader is an implied theater kid (im sorry not sorry)

a / n i disappeared on y’all, I’m sorry!! you know life is getting weird when i randomly return to tumblr.  just dipping my toes back in the water of all this so i apologize if i am a little rusty. this is just a piece of a hopper!reader show rewrite that has been in the works for a while so if anyone likes it enough, lmk, I’d be be happy to start posting the whole thing,starting from season 1! any feedback would be awesome (and also requests cause I need inspo back). okay enjoy some angst!

No one ever got out of Hawkins, Indiana. Like the town was somehow enclosed within some heavy-duty bubble, only a few people ever got the nerves to squeeze through. Until you did, until you did the one thing you believed was impossible. You packed your bags, loaded up your car, and left hell. And you did it without a goodbye because the only way to do the impossible was without one. And deep down you knew you were a coward, even after fighting monsters and otherworldly creatures, you were a coward. You could not face what was left behind or allow yourself to acknowledge it.

And it ate away at you in a way you could have never imagined. Too busy pretending like it never crossed your mind, like Hawkins never existed in the first place. Still, it chipped at you piece by piece until the guilt of escaping Hawkins, Indiana finally caught up with you. Until one day that guilt would sneak up and trip you, sending you tumbling all the way back down a hill to only land right back at the gates of Hawkins, at its green sign, Welcome to Hawkins! That warm welcome, the warmest welcome, with its murders and second dimensions and its people. Those people. Those people who worked their way so deep into your heart before you could even realize it. So deep that leaving felt like removing deeply grown roots from a garden, so impossible, so hard to tell where they even stopped growing.  You weren’t sure entirely when they grew so deep, you don’t really remember at all how they got there. When you let them? Why did you let them? After everything, you should have known better. You shouldn’t have let them.

You were fifteen when you knew you could never live in Hawkins, Indiana your whole life. It never felt real, artificial, fake. Mass-produced nuclear families and white picket fence houses and stale dead-end jobs. 

And then Steve Harrington needed an extra art credit and found his way as the lead in Hawkins High’s production of Romeo and Juliet. When rehearsing turned into giving Steve girl advice and driving with him to drop off flowers. When running lines became swinging a bat of nails and finding an alien in a fridge. When the day before the play performance had turned into icing Steve's bruises on your couch as you ran lines back and forth because neither of you could sleep. When a whole group of middle schoolers sat in the front row and your dad sat center with a bouquet of flowers. They were your family. Your strange and messy family all pretending to be interested in the gibberish mess of Shakespeare on stage. Them watching with stifled laughs as Steve stumbled through lines, as the balcony scene turned into him and you having a staring contest trying to figure out whose lines were next. And though your director would have your heads later, the two of you sat giggling during intermission and had to hold the laughter again when your director asked why you didn’t have time to be memorized to perfection. Because you had all the time in the world, didn’t you?. 

Unbelievable as it was, you began to question what you at fifteen had promised you would do. Because you had found more than stale every day Hawkins. You had found their odd-balls who taught you to play Dungeons and Dragons in their basement, who reminded you so much of your sister. And you had found Steve Harrington, a pretty boy with a heart of gold, who risked his life for his Juliet that night at the mall. Who held you tight when it all got too much.

When you moved back to Hawkins, Indiana, after Sara, after your parents split, you were sure life would never be the same again. You needed a fresh start, to completely reconfigure your life and pretend none of what had happened had happened. That you never had a sister, that your dad hadn’t completely changed, burrowing himself under alcohol and late shifts. That your mom wasn’t actively trying to forget and build another life over the one that had been left abandoned in that New York apartment. You were so sure you would have to move on, cut it all out the minute you graduated from high school. You were sure you had to escape on your rickety old bike right out of town.

Then things happened and somehow you found yourself again, found your father again as you sat together for your first Christmas dinner in years. Celebrating the return of the young Will Byers and the return of something else, something more, something familiar and warm. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was yours. You saw your father again for the first time in years that night, Christmas Eve, sitting on the porch as light snow fell and hit your heads, bundled in warm jackets, pretending the coffee you made was not mediocre at best. The police chief and his daughter, a messy duo. And that was perfect to you.

And then things happened again and again and again and finally everything just shattered.

And you left. You did what you had always hoped to do. But you didn’t feel the pride you had thought you would feel when you dreamed it at fifteen. You weren’t heading towards a new life, you were sitting in a stuffy apartment in the city. You were stuck again at what felt like the beginning. Unable to go with the Byers, you immediately made other plans, back at the apartment you had spent so many nights trying to forget. 

No one ever got out of Hawkins, Indiana. Like the town was somehow enclosed within some heavy-duty bubble, only a few people ever got the nerves to squeeze through. Until you did, until you did the one thing you believed was impossible. You packed your bags, loaded up your car, and left hell. And you did it without a goodbye because the only way to do the impossible was without one. And deep down you knew you were a coward, even after fighting monsters and otherworldly creatures, you were a coward. You could not face what was left behind or allow yourself to acknowledge it.

And it ate away at you in a way you could have never imagined or wanted to imagine. Too busy pretending like it never crossed your mind, like Hawkins never existed in the first place. Still, it chipped at you piece by piece until the guilt of escaping Hawkins, Indiana finally caught up with you. Until one day that guilt would sneak up and trip you, sending you tumbling all the way back down a hill to only land right back at the gates of Hawkins, at its green sign, Welcome to Hawkins! That warm welcome, the warmest welcome, with its murders and second dimensions and its people. Those people. Those people who worked their way so deep into your heart before you could even realize it. So deep that leaving felt like removing deeply grown roots from a garden, so impossible, so hard to tell where they even stopped growing.  You weren’t sure entirely when they grew so deep, you don’t really remember at all how they got there. When you let them? Why did you let them? After everything, you should have known better. You shouldn’t have let them.

You were fifteen when you knew you could never live in Hawkins, Indiana your whole life. It never felt real, artificial, fake. Mass-produced nuclear families and white picket fence houses and stale dead-end jobs. 

And then Steve Harrington needed an extra art credit and found his way as the lead in Hawkins High’s production of Romeo and Juliet. When rehearsing turned into giving Steve girl advice and driving with him to drop off flowers. When running lines became swinging a bat of nails and finding an alien in a fridge. Or jumping into a hole in the ground and lighting up never-ending tunnels of vines straight from those horror movies you used to watch with your sister. When the day before the play performance had turned into icing Steve's bruises on your couch as you ran lines back and forth because neither of you could sleep. When a whole group of middle schoolers sat in the front row and your dad sat center with a crumble bouquet of flowers. They were your family. Your strange and messy family all pretending to be interested in the gibberish mess of Shakespeare on stage. Them watching with stifled laughs as Steve stumbled through lines, as the balcony scene turned into him and you having a staring contest trying to figure out whose lines were next. And though your director would have your heads later, the two of you sat giggling during intermission and had to hold the laughter again when your director asked why you didn’t have time to be memorized to perfection. Because you had all the time in the world, didn’t you?. 

Unbelievable as it was, you began to question what you at fifteen had promised you would do. Because you had found more than stale every day Hawkins, you had found their odd-balls who taught you to play Dungeons and Dragons in their basement who reminded you so much of your sister. And you had found Steve Harrington, a pretty boy with a heart of gold, who risked his life for his Juliet that night at the mall, pulling you up when you twisted your ankle running up a flight of stairs and getting you out to paramedics when it was over. Icing your ankle and holding you when it all got too much. When you watched everyone exit the mall but the only real family you felt like you had left. When the police told you your fathers body couldn’t be found, buried under ash and grime in the mall fire. That he was the hero, that he saved your lives sacrificing himself. 

When you moved back to Hawkins, Indiana, after Sara, after your parents split, you were sure life would never be the same again. You needed a fresh start, to completely reconfigure your life and pretend none of what had happened had happened. That you never had a sister, that your dad hadn’t completely changed, burrowing himself under alcohol and late shifts. That your mom wasn’t actively trying to forget and build another life over the past one that had been left abandoned in that New York apartment, calling only for holidays and those important life events she was so sad she had to miss. You were so sure you would have to move on, cut it all out the minute you graduated from high school. You were sure you had to escape on your rickety old bike right out of town.

Then things happened and somehow you found yourself again, found your father again as you sat together for their first Christmas dinner in years. Celebrating the return of the young Will Byers and the return of something else, something more, something familiar and warm. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it was steps in a direction. You saw your father again for the first time in years that night, Christmas Eve, sitting on the porch as light snow fell and hit your heads, bundled in warm jackets, pretending the coffee you made was not mediocre at best. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something for the two of you. The police chief and his daughter, a messy duo. And that was perfect to you.

And then things happened again and again and again and finally everything just shattered.

And you left. You did what you had always hoped to do. But you didn’t feel the pride you had thought you would feel when you dreamed it at fifteen. You weren’t heading towards a new life, you were sitting in a stuffy apartment in the city. You were stuck again at what felt like the beginning. Unable to go with the Byers, you immediately made other plans, back at the apartment you had spent so many nights trying to forget. 

Spring of 1986, the New York apartment was driving you insane. You felt like you might start running up the walls if you didn’t get out soon. At least that would be ten times more interesting than sitting and watching your Step-Dad watch golf—a sport you didn't understand. Seeing how bored you were, he tried to explain it, but you didn't process a single word he was saying.

You didn’t want to have something with him, you didn’t want a thing you bonded over and you especially didn’t want that thing to be golf.

You debated moving, you debated being drastic and dying your hair to make your mom upset but what good would that do other than feed the part in yourself that no longer cared, no longer wanted to care. Everything you cared about had slipped from your grasp, had disappeared, no matter how tightly you clutched it was gone.

Fuck.

You stared at the wallpaper, one you knew your mom had probably gushed over at the store and chosen. And you glanced at the patterned carpet, and the family picture you were not in. And even though they all reassured you that you were family, deep down you knew you had uprooted their whole routine. You especially saw it in your moms eyes when she looked at you a little too long, a constant reminder of what she had lost all those years ago.  

You listened to the busy city traffic below the apartment and the sound of wailing sirens you had completely become ignorant of after you lived in Hawkins so long. You glanced at the kitchen, the sink with no dishes and a fridge actually filled with food that wasn’t leftover take-out, mediocre pasta you had cooked, or boxes of Eggos. And you looked at the man beside you, silent, watching golf. It was all so different.

Every day it remained that way, your mom got home from work late, your stepfather came home before you got back from school, and then Liam, your step brother would come home.

He made it all a little more bearable. The littlest but only because he reminded you of home. He reminded you of Dungeons and Dragons in Mike Wheeler's basement, and your found sister, and the party that always had you on your toes. But even you could not warm up to the boy because he would never be them. And it was unfair. It was cruel of you to make comparisons between Hawkins and New York, to allow that to shut out the only family you now had. But it was one habit you could not seem to break no matter how hard you tried.

Hawkins, Indiana was quiet, it was small. Hawkins, Indiana was both a breath of fresh air and a tightening grip that had you gasping, clawing for a second to breathe. New York was loud, so loud that the sounds of sirens and blaring car horns became only white noise in your head. It was big, not big in the welcoming and warming way. Not big in the feeling of catching sight of a friend in a crowded room. It was big in the way you could not point out a single person at school that you had seen more than once.  It was big in a way similar to that of being alone in the middle of a large party. It was so big that being alone in a quiet, dark, empty room would feel the same as walking amidst the large crowds on the street.

And New York didn’t have Steve Harrington. New York didn’t have crazy kids and weird aliens, New York didn’t have Robin Buckley or Nancy Wheeler or Jonathan Byers, New York didn’t have comforting hugs from Joyce, and New York didn’t have your dad and it never would again. The thought of it was enough to make you sick, nausea filling every inch of your body, barely able to swallow down the fact. But you would swallow it down like you always did, like you did everything else.

Your mom would always tell you you could talk to her if you needed to, that no matter how long you were a part she still cared about you. But you still remember the look on her face when you had turned up at the apartment after all those years. Finally back together face to face, the only words she was able to muster was, “you grew up”. 

You kept busy filling the days with nothing. On a good day Liam would show you some project he did in class that day, him seemingly the most unbothered by your move-in. And your stepdad, Bill, would ask you how school was to which you would reply fine. It was fine, it would always be just fine.

And you would stare at the phone on the wall in the kitchen. Dialing and hanging up and dialing and hanging up, hearing him pick up and then slamming the phone down, falling back into the chair at the kitchen table. Sometimes he would call back, you knew he caught on, you would just listen as the phone rang, head in your hands. You couldn’t face it, it was all too much and answering that call, hearing that voice would only throw it all back at you at once. It would knock you down and hold you there as you tried to gain control of the emotions you had locked up so tight once again. You felt sick to your stomach once again and the feeling spread, it spread all throughout your body, all the way to your fingertips and toes. For the first time in your life, you begged your body to just throw up, hoping the feelings would go along with it, until the pit in your stomach was completely washed away. 

It was this sinking feeling every time you heard the phone ring and as much as you wanted to convince yourself otherwise, you weren’t sure if you would ever pick up. Maybe you would just forget about it all. But it was hard when your mind was plagued with images of creatures you could only describe as otherworldly and when every time you looked at yourself in the mirror before a shower your eyes would draw focus to the deep cut scars that littered your body. You would never truly escape Hawkins, Indiana, it was impossible, and it would follow you around until you finally gave up and went back. But you refused to allow it to have that control, until you picked up the phone…by accident.

It was late, a Saturday evening of all things. Your mother was working late that weekend, your step dad was asleep on the couch, and your step brother had abandoned his books on the table and gone to bed. And the phone kept ringing and ringing and ringing, over and over in repeated increments. One call, two minutes passed, another call, three minutes had passed, and a third call with three minutes passing and on and on and on-

“Will you turn the damn thing off!” Yelled the man on the couch, whose deep sleeping was even disturbed by your past trying to creep back in. 

And it worried you, as you apologized and turned back to the phone, head aching from the noise. It worried you because every time before, the phone would ring one, maybe two times before the line went silent. But tonight, you had lost track of just how many times you had slammed the phone down to stop the ringing.

You looked up at the phone again, quiet for much too long, longer than before and RING. RING. RING.

The grunt of your step father filled the empty room and without a second thought, not wanting another lecture from your mom about not getting along with him, you reached for the phone line. Slowly placing it against your ear, you instantly pulled it back as a voice blasted through, louder than the ringing of the phone itself. “Goddammit! please pick up the phone-”

“Hey,” was all you said, it was faint and quiet in contrast, laced with guilt that had piled up from months of avoidance and pretending Hawkins didn’t exist. But it was loud enough to stop the yelling as murmurs and whispers filled the background of wherever your caller was calling from. 

Your Steve Harrington, your Romeo who deserved answers. After everything you had been through he deserved something from you that you had failed to deliver.

“Oh thank god, you don’t know how happy I am to hear your voice,” and what you expected to be anger was anything but, rather the clearest sound of overwhelming relief. Relief that all came crashing down the minute he spoke his next words. “You need to get back here, like... like-“

The sound of struggling came from their end of the phone and your heart rate sped up in a panic, only realizing how tightly you were holding the phone to your ear.

Dustin’s voice quickly came through the line, a complaining Steve evident in the back, “like right now, like ASAP, like as soon as possible.”

Dustin’s voice, his tone did nothing to loosen your grip on the phone, nothing to ease your panic and you almost slammed the phone down again. Back home, back in the familiar, back to memories of people that haunted your every thought. You wondered if they had called the Byers, your sister, you wondered if she was there too. 

“We can pay your bus ticket, but I can’t really explain like this and we just, we need your help,” Dustin practically cried. “We all need you. We can’t let anyone get hurt again.”

That was all you needed. Hawkins had a pull on you, a force you tried to ignore but eventually pulled you back anyways. Steve was back on the line soon after, you already scribbling a note to your mom, phone pressed against your ear by your shoulder. And when you heard his voice again your breath caught in your throat…it seemed to always do that with him.

“Steve, I-”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“No, but, Steve I really, just…I don’t know where to start,” you tried to explain, losing any of the words you had planned to say while lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling. 

“You don’t have to,” he simply said. But you knew you would, you had too many words to speak. “Just show up, just be here. We need you, even if you don’t believe me. It’s getting crazy again.”

Hawkins would never not be.

“I will be,” you reassured, really reassured. “I will be, I promise.”

And if everyone in Hawkins knew something, you never broke a promise, never. You got close sometimes, sometimes it seemed like you would, but you always met your end of the bargain. You said you would be back in Hawkins, Indiana and you would be. Setting the phone down back on it's holder with a quiet click, you jumped from your chair in the kitchen, as the wood chair quietly screeched against the floor. Open and close, open and close, the drawers in the kitchen were opening and closing until you found a tape role, cutting away a piece. Grabbing your note off the counter, you secured the piece to it and stuck it against the fridge where it would be noticed by your mom.

She would know what it meant, you knew she knew all along, that New York hadn’t been your home in a long time. That Hawkins had grown into something much deeper than you could have ever anticipated. And even then, in that kitchen, in that busy city…you knew, the end was near

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field XIV

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation (both of them lowkey)

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: omg so the next part has over 5k words and its not even close to being done?? should i post it all at once or break it up?? lmk your thoughts! also!! i think there's only two parts left omg... BUT do not fear bc i'm also writing another little thing for this and i feel like i'll keep doing that :)

series masterlist

You run back out to the stage, just as the Covey band's song is about to end. It was the last one, you thought, if their at home rehearsals were any indicator. You climb back up the side with an exaggerated stumble in your step, drawing the attention of Lucy Gray. She gave you a confused look, having expected that you and Coriolanus would be quite busy, especially after your song. She didn't expect you back on stage at all that night.

You smile and take the mic before she can say goodnight to the audience. "How about one more? I've had a second wind!" You say, looking to the band for their approval. Everyone besides Lucy Gray just giggles at you and nods.

"Alrighty, well, we'd really love to but our Sage here has clearly had a bit to drink and needs to get home." Lucy Gray tries to save it with a joke.

"Oh, come on, Lucy Gray. Live a little!" You laugh, playfully nudging her shoulder. "Who wants one more!" You call out which is returned with whistles and claps of encouragement.

"Alright, alright. Just one more, though." She agrees, smile returning to her face as he shakes her head.

The song ends and the band is packing up, and you can only hope that Coryo is long gone. The floor empties out, and you watch as Maude Ivory hops off the stage.

"Hey, Maude Ivory!" You call after her, hiding the sense of urgency in your voice. "Hey, can you help me clean up the floor before you grab a drink? I'll grab you your water." You offer, hurrying behind her to keep her from going to the back room. You didn't want her to see the bodies you assumed were still back there.

"Yes ma'am." She nods, giving you a quick salute.

"It's not a lot today, just a few bottles we can reuse." You smile at her as she skips out to start at the opposite edge of the room. "Lucy Gray, c'mere." You call to her as she closes up her old guitar case.

"You okay?" She asks, confused by your sudden sobriety.

"Come with me." You whisper, leading her into the back hallway in front of the door.

She follows, worry creased into her brow. Suddenly, she notes the red spots across the front of your dress which were almost invisible under the stage lights and among the red accents of the fabric.

"Something happened, okay? You can't let them come back here." You insist, referring to her family. "And you can't tell anyone."

"What?" She asks in a hushed tone, glancing past you toward the door. "Is it Coriolanus?"

Before you can explain, she's pushing past you and shoving the door open. You follow her quickly, reaching your arms around her to cover her mouth to keep any kind of reaction from being heard. You effectively muffle a cry of shock, and she's shoving you away and turning to face you. "That's- that's Billy Taupe, and, and Mayfair-"

"Shh-" You hush her quickly. "It was self-defense, okay? She was going to get us all killed. You included."

"I- no, I don't-" She tries to articulate her thoughts as her eyes fill with tears.

"I know, okay? It's less than ideal. Coryo is handling it. We just have to stay quiet." You promise. "Let's just grab everything and bring it all out, pretend you saw nothing. Maude Ivory and CC can't see this, do you understand?"

She nods, sniffling and looking between the bodies. "Hey, don't look at them." You remind her, gently turning her chin toward you. "They hurt you. Now you can move on, okay?"

"Okay." She whispers shakily, nodding again as you gather all the Covey's backstage supplies to bring out.

The next morning, you're awoken to a pounding on the front door of the small home, the four of you who shared a room all shooting up at once.

You scramble to get a peek out the window, spotting the grey shade of peacekeeper uniforms and cursing.

"Who- who is it?" Maude Ivory asks, scared as she looks between you and Lucy Gray.

"Peacekeepers. Lucy Gray, we have to go." You say quickly, closing the shade and grabbing your dress and Lucy Gray's arm.

"What? What's happening?" Barb Azure asks, rubbing her eyes.

"They're going to bust in if you don't open the door. Just tell them Lucy Gray isn't home. Don't mention me and if they ask, you don't know who I am. Do you understand?" You ask frantically and the girl nods fearfully.

As quickly as possible, you and Lucy Gray are flying out the back door and making a sprint for the trees behind the house.

"Any sign of the guns, or the girl? Mayor Lipp is sure she did it, or at least knows who did." A gruff voice of one of the peacekeepers has you and Lucy Gray both looking at each other, hands clutched over your mouths to keep quiet.

"None." His comrade replies, standing almost directly beneath you after they searched the yard. Clearly not very thoroughly, if they didn't see you and Lucy Gray sitting only about ten feet above their heads.

You cringe as he walks right over your garden, crushing the blooming raspberry bushes. "They arrested Plinth. Just got word, apparently, he was involved with rebels." The first man speaks again, and your eyes widen.

"Plinth? He's two beds down from me. Didn't expect that from him. He's a nice guy."

"No, I know. Anyway, he'll be executed this afternoon." You have to bite your lip to keep it from shaking under your hand, as if somehow that could give you away.

"Whatever, we'll come back later to get her." One of them says, making their way back through the house.

You hide in the branches and leaves until you're sure they're gone before carefully unsticking yourself from the ridged bark you were sitting on for far too long. You carefully climb down after Lucy Gray, making a quick effort to pull any stray sticks of leaves from your hair.

"What are we gonna do? They think I did it, I didn't do it, they'll kill me!" Lucy Gray panics, and you think about it while you quickly change into your dress.

"I think you have we have to run. Like you planned to do. We just have to follow through." You tell her, nodding to yourself.

Lucy Gray sighs, tipping her head back to look up at the sky. "I didn't even really want to go, I just wanted to get Billy Taupe off my ass."

"Well, he won't be there now." You say, looking her over. "How were they going to break that girl out?"

"Lil?" Lucy Gray asks, confused as she looks back at you. "I... I don't know, but it doesn't matter now, does it?"

"Did they have a plan? Did they write it down anywhere?" You ask again.

"Well, yes, but they didn't write it down. It was too risky."

"Tell it to me. Every detail you can remember." You urge her, trying to settle the panic rising behind your ribs.

Coriolanus had been out all morning with his team, looking for the weapon that killed the mayor's daughter and praying every moment that they wouldn't find it. After breaking down the doors of countless homes, he thought he would start to feel better. There was no way they would be caught, but he was regretting not taking the initiative to hide them himself. That way, he would at least know.

With his issued weapon in his hand, they were pacing down a desolate street. By now the whole district knew to lock themselves away, except for whoever he just saw in his peripheral vision through a narrow sidestreet. He turns his head fully, just catching the ends of their hair and the red in their short dress before they disappeared. He stops, quickly taking the turn into the side street and looking back to make sure no one had seen him depart from the group.

With the bag of tools thrown over your shoulder, you tried your very best to be quiet while walking through the city. Walking down a sidestreet, you found it was a challenge to be both fast and silent. At the sound of footsteps behind you, you hold the bag in your arms to prevent the tools from knocking together and step into a narrow doorway, back pressed to the wall.

You're breathing heavily, but keep it steady as the footsteps on the gravel of the road come to a stop. You hear them turn, presumably looking in both directions. You're in the middle of cursing yourself for being spotted when you hear a whistle. A calling one, baiting you to peek out from your hiding spot, but you don't budge. Another whistle. "Hey, Y/N? Is that you?" The whistle is followed by Coryo's voice whispering your name, and you're infinitely relieved.

You stepped out quietly, and you couldn't help but smile when you saw his familiar face. He meets you halfway, and you're quickly wrapping your arms around him. "Coryo..." You sigh, not ready to let go of him just yet.

"Hey, Y/N/N..." He whispers back, kissing your head. "Are you okay? What are you doing out? You need to get home."

"I can't." You shake your head, finally dropping your arms from around him. "Did you hear Sejanus got arrested this morning? He's going to be executed."

Coryo is in shock, jaw going slack as he tries to decide what to say. It must have been his recording, because there was nothing linking him to the murders.

"I'm going to break him out. Like they planned to do for that other girl."

Instantly at your statement, he shakes his head. "Absolutely not. You'll be caught and you'll be next. There's a poster of you in the head peacekeeper's office. I've seen it. They're looking for you here, it's too risky."

"I'm not going to let Sejanus die over something he didn't even do." You whisper, voice picking up in anger as you glare up at him.

"You can't, Y/N. I get why you'd want to, but it's not worth it." He insists.

"They won't catch us. I'm getting him out and we're running, just like they planned to do anyway."

Coryo scans your face for any sign at all that you may be kidding, but he finds none. "Don't. Don't go. I wanted to tell you this last night, but they're relocating me to Two. You can come with me. I'll get us both out of here."

"Closer to home?" You ask, a hint of hopefulness flitting in your eyes before it's quickly replaced with sadness. "Wait, no. No, they'll ship me back home, and then what? I'll be killed anyway, or worse." You sigh, shaking your head as you look down. This is probably about to turn into a goodbye you never wanted to say.

The idea of leaving him behind was breaking your heart, but would you really be leaving him? You knew what would happen to him. He'd go to Two, rise quickly in the ranks, and be elected president by the time he turned twenty-five. He would be okay, but would you be without him? You couldn't stomach the idea of taking such a bright future from him just because you had nothing left. "I have to go with them, Coryo. It's my only choice."

He can already see that there is no shot you'll be happy out there. You probably wouldn't last the week, either. He nods a little bit, taking your hand. "I'll come with you." He nods again, deciding it for himself. Coriolanus Snow is not about to say goodbye to the love of his life for the last time as someone she was pretending to be but never truly was, nothing more than a rebel from District Twelve.

"No, your relocation, it's your ticket home. You have to take it." You reply.

"It doesn't matter. If they find the gun, I'll be killed either way. Here, in Two, or back home. I can't escape it, same as you." He promises. "There's nothing for me there anyway. Not without you." Coryo says, rubbing his thumb gently over the side of your neck, warming the chilled skin there.

How could you say no? "Okay." You whisper, nodding slightly as your cheeks flush pink. "Can you leave tonight?"

"Uh, I, no." He shakes his head. "Earliest I can get away is sunrise."

"Shit... okay." You hum, looking around as if that will help you think. Undistracted from his all-consuming blue eyes looking into yours. "We can try and wait, then meet us at the hanging tree at dawn. If we're not there, hike to the cabin. We'll wait there if we can't hide here overnight."

He nods in confirmation, looking quickly over his shoulder as you both hear cheers and whoops of excitement making their way down the street toward you. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow." He agrees.

"See you tomorrow." You give him a small smile, turning to continue on your way when he grabs your wrist. He's quick to pull you back to him, colliding his lips with yours. He always kisses like he's starving. God, you wouldn't be able to live without that.

"Be careful, Y/N/N." He warns as he pulls away. "Stay safe."

"Yes sir, mister president." You grin, kissing him again quickly before walking away. You turn as you walk backward to face him, giving him a salute.

Coryo smiles to himself smugly, nodding at you before rushing to rejoin the other peacekeepers in his squad as they drag Spruce back toward the compound.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

[mochamamii]

yandere!nct: you have children.

▹ a/n: hello loves, I got a request to write the yanderes as fathers a loooong time ago loll lmk what you think!

▹ triggers: yandere!au, toxic relationships, controlling partner, abduction

▹ pairing: yandere!nct 127 x fem!reader

Taeil definitely wants kids. He's more the traditional type so he'd like for you two to be married first. But no matter when in your relationship children come he will be ecstatic nonetheless. Taeil's obsession with you will only intensify once children are involved. He will love your children just as much as he loves you and is willing to kill deal with anyone who threatens his family.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you and our children safe. I promise."

Johnny would welcome the idea of children. Johnny doesn't do anything without intention, and whilst he'd be able to love his children like a regular father, he'd probably see them as another means of keeping you under his thumb. He'd hope having a baby might detour you from wanting to run away. He's definitely the type to weaponize your access to the children, punishing you by keeping them away from you until you behave.

"You're mistaken if you think there's anything I wouldn't do to keep you right here where you belong. Our children are no exception."

Taeyong is more partial to the idea of having children. If it happens great, if not he won't feel like he missed out on something. Taeyong would see children as more of a liability than anything else. More opportunity for people to pry into your lives. Naturally, Taeyong is just as protective of his kids as he with you. He cares for them and wants them to be happy but isn't all that attached to them like a normal parent might. However, he sees them as an extension of you and loves them for that alone.

"There's no one I'd rather have be the mother of my child than you, there's not a single doubt in my mind about that."

Yuta wants kids for sure, and a lot of them. He's not concerned about whether you want kids yourself or not. Once he's made his mind up about something that's the end of it. He'd want kids sooner rather than later but is at least willing to give you a little time to change your mind. Once the first kid is born this man isn't wasting any time and is ready to make the next one. Lowkey has a pregnancy kink. As a father, Yuta is the unconventional wacky parent. Rejects gender roles for his kids and wouldn't want them going to a traditional school.

"What's one more kid? You look so cute with a swollen belly..."

Doyoung wants children but only when he feels you're both ready. From the moment Doyoung laid eyes on you he's imagined the day the two of you welcome a child into the world together, but he's not the type to impregnate you recklessly. To Doyoung, it's important that you want this just as much as he does, a happy mommy means a happy baby. As a father Doyoung is on the strict side. He's big on good manners and high marks. Doyoung appreciates order and detests disfunction so he might struggle in the early years whilst your child is still young.

"Sometimes you act just like your mother. You should know by now little one that attitude gets you nowhere with me."

Jungwoo wants as many kids as you will give him. Before meeting you kids were never really on his radar. Whether you want kids or not is not that important to him, he will be sad if you don't want them like he does, but after all Jungwoo is the one who's always known what's best for you, right? Jungwoo is definitely the type to trap his significant other. Any birth control you have is either getting thrown out or replaced with something else behind your back. As a father Jungwoo is super involved. He wants to be involved in all your child's milestones, big or small.

"I didn't think it was possible to love you any more than I already did but now that you've given me a child, how could I possibly ever let you go now?"

Mark is indifferent to the idea of having children. He wouldn't mind them but ultimately he would see them as more of a distraction for the two of you. He'd only want kids if they were something you really wanted. Lowkey is scared his children will take after him more than you. As a father I think that Mark would be caring but distant. It's difficult for him to care for anyone else even half as much as he cares for you.

"You know anything you want I'll give you, I'm not opposed to tiny versions of us running around."

Haechan wants kids someday for sure. How many you two have is less important to Haechan, I see him being satisfied with even just one child. As a father Haechan is the laid-back and relaxed parent. Whether the child is a boy or girl he will want them to be his little miniature twin. He will love his children but isn't above using them as pawns to control you with. You want to leave one day? Sure, go ahead, but the kids stay.

"Don't act like you're trapped babe. The door is right there, waiting for you to use it anytime you want. But don't think I won't chase you to the ends of the earth if you ever even think about taking my kid from me..."

[monstrouslyobsessed]

…tumblr can you go and soak yourself in a burning pit of hot sauce…i never even got notifs of any of the older asks i got…

so very sorry if you've been waiting for like two months on my answers;;; and here i was wondering how dead my inbox was last month…rude, tumblr, very rude. all the asks are under the cut!

just a quick note, to the super sweet asker who send in two very long asks v recently, ima answer them separately after this one, if thats okay!! <3

tw / tags: dirty confession, monster fucking, breeding mentions, implied noncon, brief pregnancy mentions, long post, beastfolk / beastfolks characters mentioned: lady hyena, the lioness, conservative lion, papa bull, duke, cerelos, father fox, velarius

I love Daddy Bull and Duke, (along with so many other of your works!), do you have any plans on doing a confrontation between the two bulls and the reader? My thirst is dryer than the Sahara for these two bulls. I need more content. I’m a desperate whore… 。・゜・(ノД`)・゜・。 —anonymous

hm i'm STILL chewing on how this saga should go tbf because it really could go any way!!! i might just bite the bullet and write au's of papa bull and duke saga, even if i feel a little weird making varying storyline au's of my characters.

it was just supposed to be a bull daddy enjoying his little human, how did duke end up there lol

I know everyone is dying over Baldur’s gate rn but have you heard of Lustful Desires on itch.io? I just got into it and I’m dying to talk about it. They literally let you have a poly relationship with 3 different werewolves it’s so good —@flameshadowwolf

i've never heard of it! ima have to check it out now, thanks for the rec <3

Sorry if you consider this a request, but I'm very interested about your OC's yandere MBTI types (from @ddarker-dreams), so if you feel like it, can you identify them in this system? —anonymous

i…ah, am kinda bad with these mbti things. idk if its because i'm older than most writers i know (hi lock my love!! hope you're doing fantastic!), but i guess i can make my best attempt…? i'll just pick a few characters and list them for ya. if you want more specific characters or want me to make an official post with expanded explation, lmk and i'll make my best attempt

here's the link for anyone who are interested

lady hyena: reverent, delusional(?), manipulative (?), lenient, rdml the lioness: reverent, aware, honest, and strict(?), rahs conservative lion: cruel, aware, honest, and strict, cahs papa bull: reverent, delusional, honest, and strict(?), rdhs duke: cruel(?), delusional, manipulative, and strict, cdms father fox: reverent, aware, honest, and lenient(ish), rahl valerius: reverent, delusional(?), manipulative, and lenient, rdml

that's just a few! and they're all beastfolks since they're more fresh in my mind, aha. i tried my best hhh

Thirst chat thought: Have you ever thought that Cerelos could just find a way to tie up his wife underneath him as a cock sleeve, gag her, and just walk around a bit for the day doing royal duties and stuff? The man already has a equine skirt he wears, so he can easily hide everything underneath… (Also I’d happily give this man a dozen babies because I am a simp for him 💕) —anonymous

i think i touched upon that at one point! i wanna say he did that during a large meeting, maybe with his darling magically gagged? lemme see if i can find that post…

found it! its super brief but still

well, now i wanna write that…that's one more to my long to-do list, aha.

also you're valid

I am a simple man all I desire is your happiness. Tis all. I noticed you were feeling sad lately and I thought man next time I have extra money I'll kofi MO but recently I acquired a small fortune and I was happy to find a way to repay you for the time my friends and I giggle and go horny over your works Re-Reading your works is payment enough ….but if you wish to repay me I wouldn't mind maybe a dilf monster vampire (kinda like what you did for wolf pack? but Victorian times) or sequel to snake movie star or sequel/prequel dragon But I would rather you do what you are passionate about! Share your creations with the world! Rejoice in your delights! —anonymous

hi i love you and i swear i answered this before

i did the snek boi just for you <3 i hope you (and your friends!!) enjoyed it! he's a difficult boi to get through but i had fun writing him and his weird camera hobby

link: SMILE FOR THE CAMERA

Also increase your kofi goal —anonymous

im…okay. i didn't really have a goal target in mind so i hope thats sufficient??? sdfkdfj

Which of the beast folk are most likely to mate with humans? Like what about big cat beastfolk? —anonymous

it'd be fangedfolk, since they're canine (dogs) and are most attracted to the humans'…hm , simplicity and openness, i suppose you could say? and possibly treefolk (primates). i based my beastfolks' basic common grounds with irl animals, as canines are pack animals and dogs are more emotionally connected to us. as for primates, humans have evolutionary connections, similar social intelligence, and the shared abilities to solve problems and such.

that said, while fangedfolk are the most likely to have a human "companion", they are also most likely to have a poly pack with their human. whiskeredfolk (feline) are probably in the top-middle of that list, if we were to have a most-to-least likely ranking, with toothedfolk (rodents) due to their prey/nervous natures and seafolks (aquatic) on how dangerous/rare they are to communicate with, at the very bottom. the reason why i feel the whiskeredfolk being in the top-middle is that they can be fairly arrogant and being independent, but adores the complete attention their human can give them and how easily they are to manipulate.

that said, this is extremely generalized list, since the list is not really factoring in specific sub-groups under these categories, such as lions being social animals and are more likely to acquire a human lover, cheetahs more likely to need a service human pet to help with their anxieties, maned wolf being solitary type, etc. and other facets, like countries/areas, cultures, when/which eras, political affiliations, etc.

hope this answers your question, love!

Hello, I've been binging your Masterlist and I just want to say your OCS are exquisite —anonymous

i think you're exquisite as well, love! <3 thank you~

Are you eventually going to do more father fox content?? He's my favorite and I love him so much ♥️ —anonymous

ye! i have couple requests for more hcs for him~though they're all kinda pretty broad. if you have anything more specific for a hc request, hmu! i'd love to write a full piece of him someday too, since i think his quietly manipulative personality is fascinating to work with.

Daddy Bull and Duke content soon? I NEED these two fine beasts in my life!!! And can’t wait till the cute baby arrives!!! And hopefully many more…😋🥰 —anonymous

send in a request then~! preferably something a bit less broad, aha, but yes!

i especially would love to write a full story of those two someday, maybe as a book?

Hi hey sorry to bother you, hypothetically if I wanted to make an ai bot of one of your beastfolks, would that be alright? If not I totally understand, I just want to make sure! —anonymous

as long as there are proper credits included, go for it! just please be sure to link back to me if you do make one &lt;3

whewwww, i...really hope i didn't miss anyone. most of them were (or looked like) a request of some kind and two i wanted to put into their own posts for me to answer soon.

hope yall are doing wonderfully and are having at least a decent holiday season!! ima try and get something nice out by christmas so heres hoping!! just...gonna decide on which i wanna do...lol.

[k4shixe]

Street Rat.

Request; can you write a oneshot featuring Izuku and all might in an Aladdin AU please?

Characters; Izuku as “Aladdin” , All Might (Yagi Toshinori) as “Genie” , Bakugo (Kacchan) as “Aladdin’s Monkey, Abu”

A.U; Aladdin A.U.

Warnings; Theft, brief mention of someone getting killed, not proofread, (I think thats all, lmk if there’s more)

Word Count; Almost 2k

Summary; Izuku always has to survive with whatever he can get and gettjng chased by guards until one night he finds an oil lamp that changes his life.

“Thank you for the bread!” Izuku says as he runs down the street to a cart with fruit. The street was filled with merchants who were there to make their daily earn to provide for their families. Although Izuku didn’t have anyone to provide for but himself, he did need a way to feed himself. Was it a selfish act? Yes, indeed it was, but he had to do what he needed to survive, besides he did thank the sellers as well as apologise to them.While running he grabs a some goods like an apple and a few tangerines, quickly stuffing them in his sack before running around the fruit stall.

“He’s over their! Get that thief!” One guard says as 2 more charge towards Izuku. He takes a sharp left turn and slides under a stall which has a cloth covering all sides below the table. He takes a deep breath before hearing the guards questioning everybody on the way over.

“Have you seen a green haired boy with a potato sack?” A heavy voice says as another stomps around.

“Oh maybe… but it’ll cost a little something” a lighter voice answers back to the guard and next he here him scream in pain and Izuku shivers at the thought of him being next. He may have been breathing a bit too loud when he feels something rough grab his leg and pull him from under the table.

“Their you are.” The guard smirks. Izuku looks around for the other guards who are busy dealing with the guy who thought he could trick the royal guards for some cash. He turns back to the one holding him.

“May I add that I’m also extremely sorry” He says with an apologetic smile before he tried shaking out of the guards grip and accidentally hitting the guard on the face as he was swinging.

“Oh your gonna get it now kid!” The guard says and wipes the spot he got hit on before something pulls his hat down, making him unable to see.

“Nice work Kacchan!” Izuku says as his pet monkey goes on his shoulder. He quickly retrieves the sack and runs off before any of the guards notice. Izuku climbed up the building and entered through the window of an abandoned building. Most entrances for the building were blocked off but he managed to move the plank enough to get through at the back if the building where people wouldn’t consider going.

“That was a close one” He sighs as he gets out a tangerine and peeled it open before handing it to Kacchan.

Izuku took a piece of bread while he looked infront if him thinking of his next move.

What should I do now?

I can’t keep living like this, can I?

He took a deep breath and dusted himself off as he got up. “I’m going out. Stay here, okay?” Izuku says as he takes the bag of food. And climbs down the building.

Izuku walks through the night market, a few lights illuminate the street as people walk to each stall to purchase things, it feels almost magical. Almost. Izuku was still on high alert as the guards never stop looking for the ‘criminals’ that are wanted, especially the people they consider ‘a problem for the public’. He stopped by some children who needed some food and handed them some of every he had in the sack. Leaving a tangerine and a small piece of bread for himself and his friend (Kacchan).

He stayed clear of everyone who seemed of importance as he also looked at what each stall was offering. Fruits, clothes, jewellery, just the norm. He walked to the back where there was one stall standing near the end of the street as buildings surrounded it, and the stall didn’t seem to have a seller. He stalked the items on the table, which seemed to only have things for decoration such as rugs, vases and, oh, a beautiful looking oil lamp. How nice. It seemed like it would cost a pretty penny so why not borrow it and resell it to the seller or perhaps to someone else who would pay more?

Izuku looked around, making sure it was clear and stuffed it into his sack. Did he feel guilty? Yes. But it was for a good cause, right? He would buy something from the owner after he got some money to make up for the oil lamp. He went back to his little place he called home but stopped when he heard a few people on the other side.

“We say him go in there chief. We saw his pet leave through a gap somewhere. Maybe the back?”

Oh. No. Izuku turned around and walked as fast as he could, trying to not make a sound. Maybe if they do here something they’ll think its a bird? He continued walking until he made it back to the centre of the town. He found an old cloth that he wrapped himself with to cover his face and hair and wondered around the ends of the town looking for a place to stay for the night. He found a small looking house. It didn’t look like much but it no one was living in it so it was his best shot for survival. He entered through the back of the building and sat in a room with not much entrances except for a window that he could fit through to escape.

Izuku sighed as he dropped the sack on the floor, he heated a ‘clank’ type of sound as his sack hit the floor. He dropped down next to the sack and opened it up revealing the oil lamp that he had ‘borrowed’. It was an old, antique looking thing. One that you’d find in a palace of some sort. It had a few bread crumbs and some juice from the now squished tangerine. He scrunched his face up at the smell he hadn’t noticed before. He shook his head and stood up before dumping whatever was left in the sack out on the floor. He grabbed the end of the sack and used that as a cloth to clean off whatever was on the lamp.

“Gonna need to clean this if I want to sell it for a good price and pay back the owner”

He rubbed it gently, making sure it isn’t going to leave a mark and as he was an thick smoke emerged from the lamp, blinding Izuku.

He threw the lamp on the floor, coughing out the dust that he breathed in when a bright yellow light lit up the dark-end room.

“Who seems to woken me from my slumber?” A deep, strong voice spoke put from the smoke. Izuku squinted his eyes to see through the fog, the only thing he could make out was a figure of someone while waving the smoke away from his face.

“Oh. Its just you.” The voice spoke again.

Izuku looks up again after finishing his coughing fit and made out a muscular looking man, with no legs? How could that be possible?

“How did you find me human?”

“Huh? Wha- Wait a minute! You- your a genie! I thought they were just myths but I guess I was wrong! Oh my god!” Izuku kept mumbling on, the man, who Izuku found out was a genie thanks to the many books he had read after he ‘borrowed’ them.

“Hey! I was meant to give you an introduction!”

“Oh um sorry” Izuku looked down embarrassedly.

“I am the great All Might! I am indeed a genie in a lamp and I can grant you 3 wishes!”

Izuku stared at shock. This has to a joke right? This can’t be real? “Pinch me.” He accidentally whispers instead if thinking.

“Sure!” The genie extended his arm and pinched Izuku, making him jump. Izuku rubbed the spot that the genie had just pinched.

“I wasn’t being literal!”

“Sorry! Young man!”

“My name is Izuku”

“Gotcha!” The great All Might replied as he gave a double thumbs up.

“What would you like to wish for? A better house? To become rich? Oh, how about both!” All Might says as he magicked up a few things to represent what he meant. Izuku thought for a moment. This was a big opportunity to do whatever he wants, but what should he wish for? Money and wealth would be the obvious choice but what more could he wish for? Taking a deep breath, Izuku gathered up his thoughts and decided to wish for a mix of the obviously options.

“I wish… to be a prince.”

“Done!” All Might snapped his fingers but nothing had changed, why?

“What why hasn’t anything changed? I asked to become a prince” Izuku asked confused as what just happened.

“Yes! And now you are!”

“What about the palace and money?”

“Im sorry but you didnt ask for that”

Izuku furrowed his brows in confusion.

“But princes have all that stuff?”

“Ohhh, I see, you wanted to become a rich and famous prince. Fine. One famous prince coming right up!” All Might stretched his arms before waving his hand around and doing another snap with his fingers. Izuku had blinked and when he had opened them he was now in a palace.

He looked around, speechless at the drastic changes around him. A tall marble inside, with priceless and luxurious artifacts are placed and decorated around the room.

“Now! Young man! Your second wish?” The genie pointed up two fingers in a ‘peace’ sign as he smiled hugely. Izuku thought for a minute before smiling at the thought of his next wish.

“I wish for everyone who’s struggling to have a safe place to live with enough food and water to survive”

The genie smiled wider at this wish.

“What a kind young man you are Izuku!” All Might snapped his fingers, although it seemed nothing had happened, Izuku had learned the first time that it has already been put in place. He walked towards the window of the palace and looked outside at the moon, shining brightly, lighting up the town. In the corner of his eye he had noticed something moving and by the time he had moved his head, something had jumped on his face which he had recognised to be “Kacchan! There you are! I was getting worried about you” The animal climbed on Izuku’s head, eating an apple he had picked up on the way. The happy moment was disturbed by someone clearing there throat. Izuku turned his head to remember the genie, All Might, who had been waiting for His last wish.

“What is your third and final wish Young Izuku? All Might the genie says, awaiting his response. Izuku thought for a moment, he has now have everything he ever wanted and needed. Wealth, safety of everyone and freedom… Thats when it clicked in Izuku’s mind.

“I wish for you to be free All Might!” He says with a smile so big and eyes glistening in the moon light. The genie hesitated for a second, thinking back at what he said. Him have freedom? “Really?” All Might says, still not believing it.

“Yes! You’ve done so much for me!”

All Might looked up Izuku, and hugged him, Izuku was a bit taken aback but leaned into the hug too.

“Are you sure Young man?” Izuku nodded his head and The genie stepped back, giving a small wave to Izuku, before snapping his fingers and vanishing. Only thing left behind was the rusty looking oil lamp with its lid off, that was left with a small note.

‘Thank you’ - All Might

A/n; I have gotten this request a few months ago and have been slowly working on it, due to school and some other stuff I haven’t gotten the time to finish it until now. Im sorry but I hope you enjoy! @princeasimdiya12

[iuwon]

X ▸ yang jungwon (part i)

▸ DESCRIPTION : what do you get when you have a stupid asshole of a bestfriend (who’s completely head over heels for you, should he add) and a fucked up ego that refuses to admit any form of defeat? you guessed it: the summoning of a jealous ex-boyfriend who dumped you two years ago, and is hell-bent on winning you back.

▸ PAIRING : ex!yang jungwon x female reader (feat. nishimura riki)

▸ GENRE(S) : angst, fluff, slow burn, exes au, college au

▸ WORD COUNT : 28.5k+

▸ WARNING(S) : this is very fast-paced for a slow burn, VERY cringe-y angst and writing (pls spare me it’s my first time😭), fake-dating with riki, JUNGWON REDEMPTION ARC ON PART 2, breakup scenes, indication of hang-ups and love triangles, jealousy, profanities, mentions of a car accident, blood, flashbacks from before and after the breakup, both reader and jungwon have issues :D, this has a second part because the fic is too long, not proofread, kindly let me know if there are any more ^-^

▸ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST : here

▸ UPDATED A/N : hello!! i finished this fic on the start of 2022 and then left it like that when i went on my hiatus, so rereading it nearing the end of 2022 .. i CANNOT take this seriously LMFAOO i was high and i dramatized everything im sawry. But. this is the longest fic i’ve written so far and for that i’m sort of :D i have little to almost zero experience of writing long fics AND angst, so i really hope to any who read this won’t have any high expectations T^T pls lmk your thoughts on this one!

▸ REQUESTED! for my scorpio twin anon :)

SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST LIKE KITES.

Someone had said that once, you remember. They’re the type of people that don’t have their two feet planted anywhere near the ground. They fly, and they keep flying. They have their mind fixated on solely reaching higher and higher up the sky just to blissfully enjoy the breeze. 

They continue to fly up once the string is held securely in someone’s hand. The thought never crosses their mind that the person holding the string might ever grow tired, or that the person would only continue to hold on because it’s hard to release the string - because it’s hard to let go.

Sometimes, the kite flies away. Either the wind current was too strong, or maybe it slipped out of your grasp. In the end, the one holding the kite is always the one to blame for carelessly losing them - it’s the person who mourns of the lost kite and suffers the consequences.

.

.

.

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

You were the type that always focused on studies. 

A homebody was what you were. To you, school was meant for school. The topic of boys never interested you, and Yang Jungwon wasn’t anywhere never of an exemption. 

Yang Jungwon, the notorious musical genius – the charming boy-wonder who lived in his own 4D world. People could say countless of sweet things to describe him, but you would forever see him as a person who was incapable of holding an interest for anyone for longer than his short attention span could hold – much more a romantic one.

You hissed in frustration, “Yang Jungwon, I swear to God, if you will not leave me alone -” your tone doesn’t faze him at all, as expected. He was immune to all your threats and remarks long before. A wide cheeky grin splits open his features before his hand reaches over and snatches your chemistry textbook at the mid-sentence of your threat, peeking over at it, “Chemical bonding?” he reads aloud, titling his head. 

And he irritates you further. Your mid-term finals were next week, and you were barely getting any of the subjects done at this rate. You were close to college, and you did not want to have anything, or anyone mess it up. 

You glare at him, “I’ve been at the same topic for the past half hour because of you,” trying to reach over your stolen textbook from the boy who never just seemed to leave you alone, his lips tug downwards in a musing pout. He stares at you before his eyes light up in thought. 

Without another word, he leaves his chair beside you, not before passing you your book. You immediately grip onto your textbook with relief, skeptical that he’d grab it back away from you again.

Moments pass and you have the time all to yourself to study, but it’s too quiet for you - despite being at a bustling café. You turn your head to both your sides, eyes subconsciously searching for him. You blink, where did he go? Did you manage to kick him out once and for all -?

A whisper from your left ear interrupts your thoughts, and you feel a warm figure lightly pressing against you from behind, “try to sing out the formulas, they’re easier to remember.”

You almost yelp in surprise, jumping away from him. Where the hell did he come from? “Yah, are you crazy -?” you began, but he starts to lightheartedly poke fun. “C’mon, do it. It’ll be easier to remember,” he encourages you, pulling out a guitar from behind. You didn’t even bother to question where he had the time to get his guitar. All you were thinking about were ways to make him leave.

You shot him a look, annoyed. “Do what?”

He was always so childish. So bothersome.

He randomly strums out his guitar strings before picking up a tune, “Sing the formulas out,” his eyes momentarily directed you to the textbook laid out on the table, “I’ll help you with the melody. Go on,” you were ready to throw a harsh retort at him, telling him off to how he was wasting your time and how his idea was stupid - but his eyes; his perfectly shaped eyes looking ever so purely earnest your way.

You hated it.

You weren’t a musical genius or any of that sort, that was all Jungwon. You couldn’t just whip out the best melodic high note nor could you memorize a thousand slide powerpoint discussion even with the help of music. He didn’t have to worry about his grades - hence, his carefree attitude - and he didn’t have to stress over finals week when his career in music was already made out for him. All he ever did around school was tag along and annoy you, try the most obnoxious attempts to ask you out, play his guitar, and listen to music in the earphones he never took off. 

You hesitantly look away, if you went along with him - maybe he’d go away once he got what he wanted to do. Little did you know how helpful the technique Jungwon suggested came out - or how fun it actually tuned out to be despite how awful your voice was, he was still looking at you like you were the singing like the angels. 

Barely another hour later, you remarkably managed to get it all by heart and cover the topics that couldn’t have been covered in at least three days - with the help of the one person who has been disturbing you from studying in the first place. You could only gawk dumbly at his guitar. 

Jungwon could sense your astonishment from miles away, and that made him all the more complacent with the huge beam he was wearing on his face. He wasn’t going to merely let this go. That trademark boyish look of his is back. “For my payment of very helpful service,” he starts as if you had ever asked him in the first place as he pretends to think, humming, “I’ll accept it in forms of you allowing me to take you out,” he suggests gleefully, his eyes sparkling in mischief. 

You would normally scoff at his attempt yet again, telling him off - but this time. You couldn’t keep count of the endless tries he’s pulled this trick. This time you helplessly shake your head with a roll of your eyes. You couldn’t keep count of anything anymore, nor were you going to start now.

Yang Jungwon wasn’t going to give up on you.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

.

.

.

TWO YEARS LATER [ JUNGWON’S POV ]

Through the extent of his memory, you never failed to take care of Yang Jungwon.

Not once. No matter how hard you would push him aside and passively act like you didn’t care much about him, you would be there for him; you would always be there. By his side.

And then you were gone.

Jungwon was two years older now.

Checking the items in his shopping bag to see if everything was complete, he leaves the grocery store, rummaging through his purchased items when his body swiftly crashes onto something. He takes a few steps to regain his stance as he stumbles backward.

“Oh, sorry,” someone says, and it takes a moment or two before he snapped out of his daze. He turns instinctively to the direction of the voice as he tries to readjust his grip on his pile of bags.

That voice. He knows that voice. 

But for a moment, his breathing halts, body stiffening instantly at the sight of someone he’d never expected to see. Never. Never again. Because this time, it’s you.

You.

You blink, showing mild surprise. And indifference. As if you were looking straight at a stranger. Your eyes pointedly averts itself away from him while you keep the proper formalities and try to start a conversation with your composure, “Uh, hello. How are you?”

To say that he’s caught off guard is too much of an understatement.

You looked different.

You looked good.

No.

You looked beautiful.

Is he dead? No, wait. What? Air gets knocked out of his lungs and he feels like he’s been punched in the gut at the same time.

You looked more beautiful than the image that he had of you for the past years, and it breaks him.

Like nothing has ever pulled you down – as if leaving you only did you good – as if it never happened or affected you by the least. 

How could you look so well?

To say that Jungwon looked like a mess was an understatement.

He bit his tongue, cursing for choosing the greatest timing. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, subtly trying to adjust it. What should he do . . . now? How should he start? 

How were you? Why didn’t you look for him? Were you doing fine? Did you find someone else? Have you moved on? Should he move on? Did you -

In the short silence, you seemed to be relieved to receive a text message, the ding that gives you an excuse to look away and check your phone. You make a face, feeling suddenly alarmed. Expression rushed, you formally bid him goodbye, and it fucking hurts him even more. “Nice seeing you. I should be on my way now. Have a nice day.”

A strangers’ nice pleasantry. With no sincerity. 

But you walk away, leaving him – not bothering to ask him for another meet-up. Jungwon is left standing in the middle of the street, dumbfounded.

Like it ended here.

Is this it?

He wasn’t even able to get to say anything.

This was worse than being nothing to each other.

It was worse than being treated like someone you hated.

He tries to inhale. 

Jungwon has no idea, honestly. Not anymore. 

One day, he had told himself for years.

One day, he would broadly smile at you. He’d stand proudly confident, and you’d know that he’s gotten over you for good. He’d win and see that he’s no longer suffering. You would see. You would. He’d get over you.

But bumping into you for the first time in years had Jungwon rethinking if he’s ever gotten over your eyes in the first place.

.

.

.

PRESENT 

You can sulk for a little, throw a tantrum - but a kite is a kite. There’s no chance of it coming back; once you let go, it doesn’t look back at you to pause and run back to your hold. There was only one thing you could do from thereon: you could always forget about it, toss it aside like a child does, and replace it with a new one; making sure it’s a much better kind. 

That. That was something you reminded yourself time and time again for the past two years. Though the line was taken from a measly television show that you’ve watched long ago, it’s been the only line of string that kept you from looking back - like a mother telling her child to stop crying over a lost kite.

But, right then and there, it was like time itself pauses for you when you stand in the same café four years ago, hearing the all-familiar voice that you could never forget. There, when you feel your heart beating out of your control and dropping dead. There, where you’re not sure of the extent of what you could restrain yourself from doing.

You don’t know how you’re suddenly transported to the direction of the soft voice - it’s familiarity greeting you, and for a brief second, the memories you’ve burned long ago painfully flash back to mind - you almost flinch.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ train wreck by james arthur ] 

“I don’t wanna lose this, but I’m not getting through this. Hey, should I pray? Should I pray? Yeah,” Yang Jungwon.

It’s him.

Him, with his stupidly beautiful voice and his damn entrancing presence dragging you back harder than you remembered, and the pain he’s trying to immerse himself in as he ignores his physical surroundings. 

And you.

You, as you’re trying to fight away the haunting flash of memories that are slowly starting to accompany you, and you, as you could do nothing but fleetingly watch him. 

This was the second time you’ve bumped into him. You snorted, why was he always everywhere you went?

And it was like after the years of methodically stitching yourself back together, you’re transported back to the same person you were two years ago. 

A fool.

“To myself? To a God? To a savior who can …” 

You admit, there were days where you forgot his face - or in other words, days where you refused to acknowledge how he used to look at you. Days where it was too painful to even think about. 

You swear to yourself that those days are long over.

Standing across the end of the room after three years of absolutely nothing from him felt suffocating, as if there was no air to breathe. You didn’t realize you were holding in a short breath, and when you exhaled - you felt pinning, and needles, and knives stabbed deep into your lungs. 

“Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words. Find hope in the hopeless - pull me out of the train wreck,” 

When Jungwon’s eyes slowly open, the first thing he sees is you. 

Both your eyes meet, and he freezes. All too slowly. Everything in motion. You notice how his eyes widen, and how the old memories flash in his eyes all the same. 

PainMiseryHurtDisbeliefHope-

The regret.

All this happens in front of you. A dream. A nightmare. All at once. Your face remains passive and unaffected, hard - nonchalant with ease, refusing to feel bothered. Time seems slow, but you don’t hesitate to casually walk away, being the first to break eye-contact. You didn’t want to spend another second in that room.

Your grip on the drink in hand tightens in its own accord.

You’ve moved on.

But what was this sort of feeling enveloping you in?

A teasing wolf-whistle startles you on your way out of the café, ripping you out of the lethargic trance you were warped into. “Was that an ex I saw over there?” You find Nishimura Riki with his shit-eating face and his waggling of eyebrows up beside you. Grimacing at his face, you harshly nudge your elbow to his sides in annoyance. 

Breathing is a little bit easier with him around.

But you still feel like vomiting. “Is shutting up not part of how your brain is wired?” you roll your eyes, showing no effort at all to hide your agitation. He lets out an amused laugh, his playful gaze only duplicating itself as he proceeds to brutally tease you. 

Riki isn’t an asshole. Not really. He’s what you’d call your best friend … without much other choice. Though he can perfectly embody one, he knows his limits (though you may sometimes find yourself doubting it) and the extents to where he can joke around. He can be all sorts annoying and a douche whenever food is on the line, but he’s the only one who’s stuck with you since day one of what happened two years ago - and never bothered to pressure you into questions that tormented you even further.

You lost contact with the friends you had once shared along with Jungwon. It felt embarrassing and uncomfortable to hang around them with everyone aware of what happened, until it was long months later that it just didn’t seem right to suddenly start hanging around them again after your efforts vigorously avoiding them.

You’ve lost a lot.

And you just met the man behind it all.

Nishimura Riki was sort of all you had, and he knew that too. He figured everything that happened eventually through time, by himself. Picking up the little things wasn’t too difficult to do, neither was piecing everything together with a little help and slow nudge from you over the years. 

“He’s moving in this building, you know,” he looks over to your side.

Your stomach lurches, freezing in place. Your jaw nearly drops to the floor, gaping at him like your eyes would bulge out any second. 

Over your fucking dead body. 

That building was precisely the building you lived in. “What?” you nearly yell, causing passersby walking along the sidewalks to throw the both of you looks.  

He rolls his eyes, “Geez, princess, clam down. I was kidding,” he bumps his shoulder next to yours, as if he was trying to shake you up. He starts going over about how you were showing ‘hang-ups’ symptoms before you start barking a mouthful of threatening-nothings to have him shut his mouth, running after him.

Something rings different, however.

Yang Jungwon.

The name lingers in the back of your head, no matter how hard you try to push it away. It’s been three years, but when the kite you’ve lost years ago - the kite you swore you’ve already forgotten about - comes back, what then? 

.

.

.

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

You weren’t necessarily the warmest type of person.

Blank faces, blunt responses, and sharp glares were all people received from you. You got others avoiding you in return, it was a give and take situation that benefited perfectly on both sides – perhaps more on your side. It worked as a repellent to kept everyone off your radar. And you liked that. You enjoyed being left alone. You found peace in your own solitude, away from other people. You were never exactly fond of people, either way.

Yang Jungwon was certainly a different breed.

Maybe it was the challenge that he liked, at first. You; the unwavering and ‘unbeatable’ challenge that provoked him – enticed him. That kept him coming. You were a brick wall, and he was someone who had the world at the palm of his hand.

But you don’t know how his intentions changed along the way.

You don’t know what made him change his mind – or what part of you that he saw that made him choose to do so, but it wasn’t of any use to figure out how.

Because he wanted you, now.

And he would ever-so-bluntly admit that.

All your efforts of shrugging him off made him fight harder for you. It was useless. The more you would curse at him with the harshest words just made him want to tag along by your side even more with that boyish grin never leaving his face.

He was a weird one.

“You know, you’re not as mean as how the people label you as.”

“And you’re more annoying than they claim you to be,” you don’t crack an amused smile. Jungwon wonders if he’s ever seen you smile – or even wear anything else of an expression that didn’t look bored, annoyed, angry, or enraged. He takes a moment to visualize how beautiful you would look when you smile and decides that he’ll do anything to see that happen. Just like that.

“You keep tossing me away,” he defended himself, the corner of his lips tugging downwards in the smallest pout.

“You keep coming back,” you retorted back, eyes shooting daggers.

By the look of his face, you realize your response wasn’t the best. “I’ll keep coming back to you,” he finishes. A lopsided grin. His brain was wired differently.

You didn’t hold back your prolonged suffering exhale.

It was a careless remark.

Such a recklessly made promise.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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.

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

[ JUNGWON’S POV ]

No one loves you like Yang Jungwon.

Whenever you’re blabbering about something with the biggest smile on your face, every time at that exact moment Jungwon knows that no one can ever be as fucking in love you like a dumb plain sheet of white paper like he can. Nor can they get to know you - or the 2 am you. They wouldn’t get to know how beautiful you look with the one side-lamp illuminating a side of your face - and the little things that come along with it, it’s only him. 

It’s only him.

But when he stares into your eyes, he knows it all too. No one is as bad for you as Jungwon is either, he believes, and it fucking destroys him as he holds onto you tighter, his hands slightly trembling. He can’t lose you, he doesn’t want to, and he doesn’t know the person he’ll become if he ever does. He doesn’t know if he’ll even make a day after it. 

Why didn’t he think that there would ever be an end to a sweet dream?

Yang Jungwon is your first, but someone else is going to be your last.

Someone else that wasn’t him. 

He muffles the sound of the soft cries that escape him as you peacefully sleep next to him in his tight hold, unaware of what’s to come.

He’s everything that he promised you he would never be.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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THE NEXT WEEK

Riki must’ve placed some sort of curse on you for this to happen.

You could vividly imagine his shit-eating face with his loud laughter already.

Whatever witchcraft or shitty attempt of ‘fate’ this was, Nishimura Riki was going to be the cause of your death. Though this has barely anything to do with him, you can’t think of anyone else that brings that much bad luck to you. You’re seriously starting to think the world is unreservedly just fucking with you for entertainment.

Just when you thought you were never going to see him again.

Yang Jungwon stands at the front of the classroom, leaning on one foot with a backpack slung over his one shoulder. You almost facepalm, this was some Egyptian curse that was going to follow and haunt you, wasn’t it? Perhaps the ghost haunting you was in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

Of course, the new student had to just be him.

You never thought you would ever see him again. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice you and sits the farthest from your area. You keep your head focused on the individual work assigned to the class. If this whole thing could keep up, you could probably spend the next semester without him knowing you’re in the same class, then, you could hopefully change classes by the next - it wouldn’t be so bad. You didn’t have to acknowledge him.

That is, until the Professor starts assigning him roles and tasks. “There are the modules for you to read, and then around four individual minor projects to keep up with. The fifth individual project, however, majorly affects your grade,” he pauses, lightly smacking his lips as he scans his student list. 

He flips through papers as he continues, “since you’ve missed most of the term, I’ll be pairing you up with Lim Seoyeon,” he drags the last word, scurrying through his papers to find another name, “and Y/L/N Y/N. Both are only lacking their thesis papers, while the others are still lacking to submit three projects, so it would be most convenient for her compared to the rest.” 

Your stomach churns, feeling sick. Physically cringing, you felt like creating an uproar. Wherever Yang Jungwon goes, trouble always follows; this simply could not be happening to you. Lord, it was the least convenient to you. 

This world couldn’t hate you this much.

You wanted to curse any of the gods above you placed you in this shithole, being beyond frustrated and unwilling. Anyone but him. You could only mournfully regret passing all your projects in advance, it was ironic. You get yourself into fucked up situations for being a good student? What is this university? 

The Professor doesn’t clarify anything with you - nor does he justify the situation and the injustice, but only throws a nod in acknowledgement in your direction before he waves at Jungwon in dismissal - excusing himself from the classroom.

Your eyes could almost bulge out.

What was happening . . . ?

Jungwon’s eyes sweep over the room before he finds you, but you note how he doesn’t look the least surprised to see you. He stares, trying to discern your expression, but you once again break eye contact within a second.

You were in hell.

You had no option to stalk up to the teacher’s desk to bargain when the professor wasn’t there in the first place. You were fucking stuck with him. You felt the burning flames when he got up to make his way to you, and as he stood right in front of you. Choking to death because of a meatball in live television seemed like a much peaceful idea that kept most of your remaining dignity. 

Maybe if you kept your head buried with studies, he would go away.

“Y/N,” a voice acknowledges you.

Fuck, you could remember that voice anywhere. 

“It’s nice to see you.” Yang Jungwon. 

You made a noise in response.

The feeling was not reciprocated.

You hate the way he sounds.

Like he wasn’t the same person three years ago.

You forcefully nod curtly at him, and you’re drowning.

Suddenly, we are strangers again. An unwanted stranger. There was no other option rather than tolerating him until it was all fine. You could do this. You didn’t want to, but you had to, otherwise you’d be at the polar end of the classroom by now if you had the choice. 

But you chose to ignore him: Ignore the fact that he sat right next to you in close proximity, ignore the fact that you could smell his cologne - the familiarity of it and how it smelled like home, and ignored him like he never existed when he tried asking questions. In your defense, either they were a waste of time to answer, or they could easily be found in the textbook. 

“Hi, I was wondering if –” Ignore it.

“Do you know where the questions for –?” Ignore it.

“Don’t you think this project is pretty difficult –?” Ignore it.

And you turned a blind eye to the fact that you disregarded him because you didn’t know if you could control yourself.

Seoyeon was a lifesaver, managing to keep you sane as she voluntarily chose to step in to help Jungwon out after hearing all his questions directed to you left unanswered. You wouldn’t know what you would do if you were forced alone with him. She reads the room but doesn’t question anything. 

You tell yourself it was anger that made yourself this way.

Blind consuming anger.

You hate how Jungwon could still manage read you after all this time.

A quiet and gentle question, “Y/N, are you mad at me?”

You barely react, but your eyes squint on their own. You weren’t going to lie nor deny it, you do really wish he hadn’t chosen to interact with you. Staring blankly at your laptop screen, you don’t move. A hushed voice - a subconscious that you swore you lost long ago - in the back of your head whispers an answer before you force yourself to shove it down. You almost scoffed; are you mad at him? What kind of a dumb question is that? 

He was nothing but an ass, he hadn’t changed. 

“No, why would I be?” You answer brusquely, your tone signifying that you were keeping a distance from him without having to say it.

You hope the cue was taken.

There was no need to keep the friendliness with him – you weren’t obligated to. Formalities were all there was left. At least you would treat him with the respect that you were scraping your skin out for, right? Whatever you had with him - it was over. It was long gone. 

You refused to be controlled under the palm of his hand ever again.

You swiftly pack your belongings and left him without a work or glance to spare his way the second you hear the bell signal the end of the period right on time. You don’t even bid your classmate, Seoyeon, goodbye. You’d apologize to her later and explain things to her, hoping she’d understand and lend a helping hand.

It’s been two years and the minute he shows up, you find yourself crumbling and unable to control yourself, and that frustrates you. You’re slipping.

Being around him was a waste of energy.

You remind yourself that you feel nothing. 

He was a stranger to you now.

Once again, you walked away from him, gripping the strap of your backpack tightly in sheer annoyance and vexation. Mind racing, you try to find a reason; why was Yang Jungwon in your major and university and what in the heavens above does he want from you?

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LATER

Riki roars in laughter, his hand slapping his knee as he nearly falls off the chair. You were almost tempted to push him off. 

“You think it can’t get any funnier than that, but it does!” he pretends to wipe away a fake tear, “you ignored him all the way through!” he bursts into fits laughter once again. 

“Poor guy, getting the silent treatment from someone like Y/N on your first day at college is depressing,” he empathizes, though it doesn’t sound by any means sincere. Nothing about Nishimura Riki is sincere. “At least I’m not the only one Y/N treats like shit!” he notes positively with a beam on his face, but you’re not sure if that’s anything that’s supposed to be of positive news.

You whack the back of his head, and he whines. “When have I ever treated you like shit, you dumbass?” 

“I’m taking this as a form of harassment,” he grumbles.

You stick your tongue out at him mischievously, “Oh, boo-hoo, you big baby, ‘s not like you don’t bully the hell out of me,” you roll your eyes, “and help out and do something about Jungwon, will you?” you ask him for a favor, your tone indicating exhaustion.

He furrows his eyebrows at you, “What’d you want me to do - bury his body? Doll, I barely even know the guy.” 

You swing your arms - shooing something nonexistent away for gesturing, “Just keep him away! I don’t know, do one of those stupid ideas that you always come up with. I can’t stand seeing his face,” you complain, almost childishly stomping your feet in outrage. This was unlike you.

He lowly whistles, “I was really hoping for some real kind of exes-to-lovers type of k-drama lead coming to life,” he comments, and you muster the biggest disgusted glare at him. He only shrugs his shoulders with a mere ‘hey-what-can-you-do?’.

“However, there’s a …” he trails off, lighting up like a lightbulb with an idea in mind already. 

You raise a brow, “A what?” 

He looks at you with a grin, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, “We can fake-date.”

You were dumb to ask him for ideas. You groan. “Not again.”

“C’mon,” he probes you, tugging at your arm. Was he really that bored with his life to want to fake-date you?

You blankly stare at him, deadpanned. “You get dumber and dumber the more I talk to you,” you don’t hold back from telling him, receiving a dirty scowl thrown at you, “I’m serious! Isn’t that what people do whenever one of their exes show up?”

Squinting at him, you ask, “Just how many fanfics have you been reading?” 

He crosses his arms, “Make fun of me all you want, but we both know that those ideas never fail,” he huffs, “you wanted him gone, didn’t you?” he tries to resonate, “Everyone thinks we’re already a thing anyway, it won’t be too hard, or would it be much of a trouble if we just went on with it. We’re basically pros at this dating thing, aren’t we?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yes, and getting back at him would feel rightfully good as hell and all but,” you sigh in exasperation, hating to be the one to ruin the fun, “doing that would mess everything up even more, I’m sure. We’d be the ones ending up as the dumb fools in the situation. Did you already forget the time we fake dated to get that girl obsessed over you off your back? And how it backfired on us?” you stated, and Riki’s thoughtful silence justified your stance. 

You’d rather die the most undignified death than have Yang Jungwon win the second time around, and that was not happening under Nishimura Riki’s watch.

“If I could just turn into a wizard or anything like that and ‘magic’ him away,” you plopped an arm up on the desk, resting the side of your cheek at the palm of your hand, “probably turn him into a damn ugly and useless broomstick while at it, too.”

Riki lets out a humorous short laugh at the sight of you, “Cheer up, princess,” he slings an arm around your shoulder, poking your cheek, “I’ll help you too, and I’ll beat him up whenever he tries to go near you; hot sexy Nishimura Riki cares about your cute dumbass,” You bump your hip playfully toward his. I’m not leaving you alone, is what he was trying to say.

He’d excuse it as simply returning the favor that he asked from you. The time when the both of you fake-dated, and it backfired – forcing you to reach extreme measures that went on for months.

Right, you had Riki. And he wasn’t going to just ditch you, not like him. He’s stayed firmly next to you for the past two years through all the shit you put him though (and all the shit he put you through). Riki may have been a rascal, but he was nothing compared to how shitty Yang Jungwon was.

You simply just had to keep going and help Jungwon out in certain parts while interacting the least you could and ignore him (or preferably call Riki to tell him off, he’d love to finally be given the chance to annoy the shit out of someone) whenever he tries anything funny. As soon as it was over, you’d do your stay out of his way and pretend like nothing happened. After all, he was the one who left. If anyone was trying to run away, it’d be him.

Everything was going to be fine. You didn’t care.

It was no big deal; no extensive measures were needed.

A sharp inhale.

You didn’t know if you were lying or if you were telling the truth.

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.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ yellow by coldplay ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

Jungwon liked to follow you around.

He also liked dragging you along with him with whatever excuse he could come up with. You never could really decipher what that oddball was thinking, just when you thought you caught up to him, he surprises you with something new every day. 

Lee Heeseung, your senior, was discussing that week’s event that the school was holding with you when Jungwon swoops in and drags you away without second thought, “Sorry, hyung! Gotta borrow her today ~” he throws a grin, and Heeseung could only roll his eyes, staring in playful disbelief after the both of you, “ya, that’s what you said the last three times too!”

Jungwon gives the kind of pleading look you know Heeseung couldn’t resist, “I swear I’ll pay you back with free lunch, hyung!” he yells back. You were used to being dragged away or trailed around by him; it wasn’t anything of the ordinary. He winks at you. 

No matter how hard you would try to avoid him or threaten him, he was always looking at you with the most mischievous silly and crazy ideas in mind. 

On the other hand, he didn’t really enjoy the idea of you hanging out with other guys.

Could you call him delusional? You really wanted to.

And then there was this other instance, where Jungwon had sulked behind you the whole period, making noises that surely irritated you whilst you interviewed Park Jay for a class paper, who was a part of the varsity team. It forced you to spend the entire day with him for the interview, which Jungwon did not seem to like. It came to the point where you had to embarrassedly excuse yourself from the number of huffs and noises he was making. Jay was left giving confused looks, completely distracted from the whole topic that the whole interview was pointless no matter how hard her tried to ignore Jungwon.

“What is your deal?” You hissed at Jungwon in annoyance as soon as you scurried away from the varsity team, “you completely embarrassed me over there, you rascal!” He doesn’t hear you. He seemed deep in thought, as if he was battling with himself. Jungwon faced you with the biggest frown - looking more distraught than ever, “You don’t like him, right?”

Your mouth slightly hangs open, thrown off-guard. What?

“He isn’t your type, isn’t he? He doesn’t look like it. You’d never go for a guy like him.” He looked ridiculous – and it wasn’t much of a shock to you. An idiot and a loser. You figured it’d only be a matter of time before he completely lost his mind. It was as if he was talking to himself. You lightly whacked his arm, trying to get some sense into him and snap him out, “What are you talking about, you rascal?”

He bores his eyes onto yours, “Whatever. I won’t let you, anyway. I’ll stay by your side you ‘till the day I die if I have to.” His eyes were set with firm determination, yet you didn’t bother pressing on - being sure he was up to no good, as usual.

He was speaking, but you couldn’t piece together what he was trying to imply. You didn’t really care either, he was a weird guy. Still, you were frustrated at him for just having to mess everything up for you again, “I can’t believe you,” you muttered incredulously, turning your heel to start walking away from him – you were done with this boy. 

“Hey – angel, no, wait. Where are you going –?”

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

Admittedly, you didn’t hate Yang Jungwon as much when you had first met him, but the dislike started to grow at a profound rate when he started acting as a nuisance the more occasions he stuck around.

You weren’t exaggerating. Jungwon was just the epitome of overbearingly unable to understand social boundaries and your extreme dislike of having him in a 2-mile radius near you.

And you had your dignity, but Jungwon was an entirely different topic. Hiding from him in the gymnasium lockers was your last resort.

“Gotcha,” a cheery voice slides in beside you out of nowhere. Your heart almost jumped out of your body in fright, did he always have to jump-scare you out of nowhere?

“Seriously –?!”

“Stop playing hide and seek with me, angel. I’d love to play this game some other time with you but not now! We have somewhere else to go!” He has got to be shallow. Or dumb. Really dumb. You don’t know. As much as he loved blabbering endless nonsense around you that never seemed to make sense and was barely capable of leaving your side, you barely knew anything of him.

 You glowered at him, “I’m not playing hide and seek with you, you rascal! I’m obviously avoiding you –!”

He pats the top of your head before gently grabbing your hand, interrupting your nth effort to knock some sense into him. “Let’s go! It’s my turn for a Y/N day.” he points forward, leaving the library baggage hall that he found you hiding in. A Y/N day? What were you to him, an item? You groan, sounding sorrow. You really thought you got away from him this time. “Yah, we’re going to miss class!” 

You didn’t even know why you bothered.

Jungwon tilts his head, giving you a look as if to tell you to not worry, “We’re going to the river today, anyway. I brought my boombox with me,” he proudly tells you, and you aggravatedly sigh, feeling defeated. You swore you made all the measures needed to carefully avoid him, thinking you were finally left alone. 

“Why do you always bring me along?” you deadpan, trying to wriggle free from his grasp. He was probably going to insert another flirtatious line or something among those actions. Why don’t you ever leave me alone? 

You never really got it. Any of his interests, in fact. Why was he so determined to pursue you? There were countless of girls who were more of a ‘challenge’, and they were all the more interesting than you, with no doubt. What did he see in you? “Don’t you have any other friends?” you pulled a face at him. Jungwon has been by your side for such a long time that you grew accustomed to his presence, still, you weren’t going to admit that. 

“I don’t want to hang out with them, I want to go with you,” he simply explains, as if it was the most obvious answer.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, irritated, yet curious as you stress, “Why?”

He pauses, still looking ahead as he guides you forward, “Being around you makes me happy.” You simply glance at him and the look he has makes you shiver.

Jungwon was always straightforward. There was not an ounce of shame in that man’s soul. He said what was on his mind without any filter, and he also had a peculiar way of thinking, which in terms, you guess, made him intelligent. 

A beat passes, and you don’t find a retort to throw back at him.

Jungwon was like this beaming sunshine and busted in the dark hell you drowned yourself in.

Even if you enjoyed the darkness.

He always knew where to find you.

He found you.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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.

Every year.

Every moment.

Jungwon was always there.

Yang Jungwon always knew where to find you, it was like his sixth sense. He could spot any of your bullshit or anything that you were hiding from him in a mile radius. There was no bother in hiding from him. He would always pop up by your side with a lopsided smile, carrying his guitar around and whining to you because he wanted to do something fun.

He was a bothersome child.

He was there in the times you didn’t want to see him, and he was there in the times where you needed someone but there was no one to turn to. It was as if you could summon him, you would always retort. 

Making up excuses was his specialty, he always seemed to disregard everything to tag along with you. He made crazily creative alibies that never seemed to run out just in order to be able to stay by your side.

Until one day he stopped.

Until one day he ran out of reasons.

So, where was he and what was he doing two years ago when he left you the moment you needed only him the most?

One day, you woke up and he was gone. You haven’t heard from him since. Not a trace left. Not a ghost left to haunt you. And somehow, that haunted you even more. 

Where did you go?

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

You liked the pastries that Jungwon used to make for you.

You remember that he made them for you a lot. Whenever you did a job well done on a simple test or if you overworked yourself, you always found a box of your favorite flavors on your desk or locker the following day. You didn’t have to question who it was from; he didn’t have to say anything.

You weren’t accustomed to having that kind of treatment. A simple job done is merely a simple job done. There hasn’t been much of a pat on a back or a congratulatory party for the little achievements, and that was completely fine you. However, that wasn’t the case for Jungwon.

Puzzled, you held up the mysterious box, “What is this?” 

“Sweets. Try them and tell me if you like them or not,” you could tell that he was anxious in anticipation. You try and hand it back over to him, “Oh, I’m not really in the mood for sweets, you can go ahead and give them to Minju though, she loves -”

“I didn’t make them for Minju,” he stands in front of you, sort of dejected and earnest. That was a new look on him. His face seemingly somewhat deflated, and somewhat embarrassed. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, refusing to meet your gaze as he shakes his head and changes his mind, trying to reach over the box to save his dignity in the situation.

Your eyes slightly widen, processing, “Wait,” you withdraw your extended arm, looking back at the box, pointing to it, “you made this?”

“It’s not really any -” Jungwon starts, reaching out for the box for him to take back but you swat his arm away.

“You should’ve said so, dumbass! I love things homemade,” you explain lightheartedly, your eyes glittering once you open the box to reveal damn beautifully decorated chocolates. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape from the blow, almost gasping.

He did that?

“You don’t have to act all that, you know,” Jungwon adds, and when you spare him a glace, you realize he’s being serious.

You roll your eyes at him, ready to punch his arm. Acting? He wishes! Was he just wanting more compliments from you, or did he really believe that his baking didn’t look like the prettiest things ever? They looked too beautiful to eat but you didn’t know if you could manage to restrain yourself from eating something that looked so delicious. “Shut up, look at that! Are you, like, a world-renowned baker or something?” 

As soon as nearly half of the box was eaten by you, you mentally felt something hit you, like a pang. Though you couldn’t exactly discern what. You felt something, a lurch of it. A swell of happiness, a swell of being seen, a swell of not being alone, not anymore. “Jungwon?” you looked at him.

He leaned his weight against the wall in the front of you, taking one of his earpieces off, “Mm.”

“Thanks,” It was casual, but you meant it. You really did. He could read it from your eyes. He probably spent a lot of time making these, you thought. Then you realize that’s all he ever did to you; spend his time on you. 

He’s sincere. A troublesome rascal, definitely. But sincere. It’s funny how it took him to just make some homemade sweets for you to see and realize, “you’re not that bad.”

You don’t know if you left him speechless, but you walk down the hallway with him staring after you. Words left unspoken.

Something new had changed then.

You didn’t know what to call it. 

But it felt good.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ meet me at our spot by the anxiety ]

THE NEXT MORNING

[8:04 am] unknown number: hi good morning

[8:04 am] unknown number: it’s jungwon :)

[8:05 am] unknown number: i just wanted to wish u a good day

[8:06 am] unknown number: i’m really proud of u

Four text messages to ruin the start of your day.

And in addition, there it was: the exact familiar box of pastries on the desk you were at yesterday that morning.

You nearly got yourself nauseous at the sight.

Were you dreaming? 

Blinking it off, you snap out of it. You scoff, Jungwon was more shameless and a lot bolder than you thought. What was the box supposed to signify? ‘I’m proud of you’?, ‘I’m sorry’?, or an ‘I miss you’? Either way, you never knew Yang Jungwon could ever stoop so low.

Two years and the first thing he does is give you a box of sweets, was he thinking it’d pay back all the shit he pulled? Bribe you with sweets and suddenly everything would be okay?

Your resentment for him grew even more.

Anger was a better feeling to experience other than any of the other emotions.

At the side of your eye, you could see Jungwon. You pretend not to, and you try so hard. You don’t miss the glances he throws you, he was probably waiting for your response.

Surely, he should expect from you that the response was going to be nothing good. Does he know you at all?

Throwing it away seemed over the top, but you didn’t know what the rest of your options were. You hesitate, eating it would only make him believe that everything’s okay. And in case Jungwon didn’t get the memo: everything is not okay. 

This won’t hurt you.

You toss the box to someone else; your hands slightly freeze on its own for a moment when you realize Jungwon was watching. Only for a moment.

You weren’t taking his bait.

You didn’t want it.

You don’t look at him, and you don’t bother to see his reaction. Biting down your tongue, you jabbed your pen down the desk forcefully - you ignore the sense of guilt. He asked for it.

It takes a bit more effort to remain nonchalant this time.

Jungwon was getting in your nerves. Again.

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LATER

You were dragged into a library group filled with people you barely knew of by Ningning and Seoyeon. You recognized Jake Sim from chemistry class, and a few others that you weren’t entirely confident you knew the name of. Jungwon was there. Of course, he had to be.

Though you were an expert at turning invitations and confessions down, you really weren’t much of the action type. Some would call you the ‘all bark, no bite’ type, but that was mostly because people who ensued and pressed on having it their way was just stubborn.

Most of your life, people went along your bark, it was rare that anyone went against it – but not impossible. Yang Jungwon.

The name flashes by your mind involuntarily as if it was a burn.

As if your mind works on its own, you find yourself staring at him – he paid no interest in the conversation as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, bored. The only word he had ever said was when he had assertively stated that he wanted the seat that was close to yours. He had also joined the conversation and firmly voted against Jake sitting next to you. What a problem boy.

[02:44 pm] yang jungwon: u look good today

You were bored, but definitely not bored enough to be willing to immerse yourself into that mess.

You were entirely out of the group’s topic of conversation yourself, immersing yourself all in your head and thoughts until a girl named Naeun – you think – waggles her brows at you. “What about you, ms. ‘most-popular-with-guys’?”

“How many of them did you turn down this week?” Lee adds into it lightheartedly, poking fun.

Jungwon’s attention is immediately averted to you – and you hate that you can feel his gaze boring into your face.

You feel more uncomfortable than ever, trying to argue with them, “What? That’s not true—!”

Ningning’s eyes glint in mischievousness, taking in your denial as something you were embarrassed about as she joins into the conversation. But it wasn’t, not entirely. 

You were highly uncomfortable. “Don’t deny it. You’re more than just ‘popular’ with guys. I swear I saw with my own eyes at least two guys try and hit you up on this exact library alone from the past few days.”

You could hear chortled laughter from around you.

You know none of the voices belonged to or were from Jungwon.

You’d rather suffocate.

“I heard you were pretty popular with the guys during your high school years too!” Seoyeon chirped. You felt nauseated. Where did they even hear that information? You incredulously retorted to yourself.

“D’you date any of them?” Lun from literature class pipes in, interested. You feel your face turn hot against your will. “Any hotties you can introduce me to?” someone adds into it suggestively, clearly enjoying the topic of discussion.

Your face starts to sour, reeking of irritation.

“Ooh! I remember hearing Y/N dated a guy during high school. That’s probably why she wasn’t able to date much?” Ningning suggests, and you wanted to kick her out of the room. Was anyone just not able to pick out on social cues? Was everyone not able to notice how uncomfortable you looked?

Seoyeon’s eyes enlarged in alarm, “Y/N dated before?” Despite the distressing situation, you almost slipped out a laugh, you were always known for your strong dislike towards romance and men and you liked it that way. You guess the impression still hasn’t changed.

He’s in the exact same room right now, you wanted to spit out. Your face hardens, but you don’t say anything. 

“What’s the big deal? We were barely anything anyway.”

Ningning does not get your clue, instead, she looks more confused than ever. “Huh? From what I heard; you both were pretty serious.”

“You never told me anything about him,” Seoyeon complains, grabbing your arm and repeatedly swinging it around. With everyone’s attention on you, your usual ‘i-hate-everyone’ façade falls into dust.

You snort, keeping your tone casual, “About what? He was barely anyone special, in the first place.”

A bunch of unanimous curious ‘oohs’ were heard around the room. “Oohlala, spill. What made the relationship end?”

You take a thoughtful pause, as if it was the first time you were giving it thought, “He was selfish.” A shrug.

You ensure that the whole table hears your answer, especially him. Ningning scrunches her nose in distaste at your answer, “Ugh, typical. Boys really aren’t shit.”

“You’d give your entire world to them, and they decide that it’s not enough. Discontented assholes.” Lee comments with a bunch of insults thrown away without regard, and the Seoyeon pretends to vomit at the mention of boys. “Dirtbags. His loss,” is all she says.

You really don’t have any idea of what to do in this situation.

A strangled noise escapes Jungwon, and he covers it up with loud coughs. He looked like he’s just been badly burned, and you try to casually shift in your seat. The rest of the group takes it as a cue to ask him the same question as well, figuring he wanted to be included.

“And what about you, newbie?” Jake notices, an effort to try to get Jungwon to feel included. “Ever dated before?”

He stares blankly in response. A glance your way, and it takes a fraction of a second for you to avert your eyes away. You hope no one caught that. A moment. Or two. Until, “No, never.” Casually, with a helpless shrug before his attention was back on his phone. He doesn’t even regard that you were ever a part of his past.

Your insides clenches on their own.

That was it. The signal. You were back to being notoriously known for your cold behavior, good grades, and popular game with men, while Jungwon was back into his reputation of being a cute and care-free affectionate and loveable brat that would never do anyone wrong. 

Everything was back the way it started.

Rewind. A start over. Where Jungwon doesn’t get to see the nurturing, caring, childish, and mischievous side of you, and where you never got to see the depth to him: his coolness and his silence. The eyebrow lifts, his head-pats, his reliability, his loyalty, his promises, his stories, his determination – everything about him that everyone missed, that was simply nothing now.

We’ll never be those kids again.

Your phone buzzes.

[02:52 pm] yang jungwon: i figured u didn’t want them to know.

[02:54pm] yang jungwon: are you mad?

Both your eyes meet in the midst of the others bickering with each other.

All the remnants of history erased.

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↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

[ JUNGWON'S POV: 1 YEAR AGO ]

“I’ve been looking for you all night!” she skips, twirling in front of him, “What d’you think? I figured you might like this outfit.” She had an annoying voice, and was definitely way too clingy. Black long hair or something, honestly, any of the faces he’s seen were all only just blank and empty to him.

Jungwon doesn’t even regard her existence.

“C’mon ~” The girl drags, tugging at his arm. He doesn’t even know her name. He’s probably crossed by her more than a couple times with the way she was acting.

She was annoying. Not like you at all. No one was like you.

Jungwon was already in a sour mood. “You’ve been stuck at the couch all night, you lame-dummy!” She points a dragging finger to his chest, “No one wants to be a lame-dummy, c’mon, come with me! It’ll be fun,” she tries to persuade in a sing-song voice, inviting him in.

It doesn’t shake him by the least.

He shakes his head, shortly emitting a single scoff in irritation as he jerks away the hand on his shoulder. His tense facial features say everything. Without saying another word, he chooses to leave the room quietly and awkwardly without bidding goodbye to the other friends who invited him.

These parties were useless. Everything was useless. Every day was too boring and empty without meaning.

He had no place here.

This wasn’t where he belonged.

He damn well still belonged to that person he always has belonged to.

You.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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[09:12 pm] yang jungwon: hello bo ;]

[09:12 pm] yang jungwon: i hope u had a good day :)

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: i’m always here if u need me

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: just so you know 

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: i’ll always be there

[09:20 pm] yang jungwon: and i hope i crossed your mind at least once..

read

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A FEW DAYS LATER

You were beyond thankful to have Seoyeon around him to save yourself the awkward interactions.

She was the icebreaker. The only factor that allowed you to act as if Jungwon wasn’t there in the first place and ignore his existence. Given that she was an icebreaker, she was also clueless. 

She had no idea of the hatred you had for him - or the reluctance to look his way, much more interact with him. It wasn’t her fault, but you wish you rather didn’t have to explain the situation to her as the only option for her to stop trying to get you and Jungwon to talk.

“Wasn’t yesterday fun? It was nice having new people around,” she brings up as a conversation starter. Jungwon was minding his business working on his project on the side, the both of you had your free time. You politely smile at her, and you know it looks genuine. Explaining things to her wasn’t ideal – you shudder that the possibilities that would happen once you’d confess the situation.

Maybe Jungwon was a private secret of your past that you were never meant to bring up to those in your present.

“That reminds me, who’s the group you hang out with? We really should hang out more.” She slightly frowns before adding, “You’re really fun!”

“You too,” you add with a half grin, and you genuinely mean it. You kindly nod in agreement with a laugh, desperate to end the topic – but Seoyeon doesn’t cease her intent of giving up her first question.

She smiles at you expectantly as she awaits for an answer, and though you know she’s really just trying to make friends, if awkward topics were all that she was going to be bringing up around you, you would rather not converse with her at all. “Oh uh, that question,” you forced a laugh that comes out awkward, “no one else, really.”

Her lips form a small ‘o’ shape, apologizing for intruding. She softly gasps, alarmed, “Really? To be honest, I think it’s because everyone’s intimidated of you. It was until a few seconds ago that the whole campus figured you had countless of friend groups. Me included.”

You furiously shake your head at her, making a dreadful face in which she giggles at, “Oh God, no.” you comment, “it’s really just me,” you pause, “and Riki of course. Riki. Me and Riki. No one else. Kind of a loner,” you coughed out an awkward ramble, but Seoyeon never even seemed to mind.

“That’s cool, neither way! I get to have you to myself,” she teases lightheartedly as she links her arm around yours.

You were too flustered to notice that Jungwon had heard everything.

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THAT EVENING

[10:21 pm] yang jungwon: hi love

[10:22 pm] yang jungwon: you must be tired i hope u rest up tonight :)

[10:22 pm] yang jungwon: i’ve really missed u

[11:49 pm] yang jungwon: goodnight love, sweet dreams :) ♡

read

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By the next day, at the end of class, you’re forced to work with Jungwon at the library for the afternoon. Seoyeon was running late by fifteen minutes. This was the only time you didn’t mind.

The air is cold, and the tension was cutthroat, you could suffocate, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Starting a friendly conversation? Why even bother?

You decided to ask him straightforward the moment he tries to initiate conversation by asking you a question, cutting him off, “What are you pulling at?” you blankly stared at him, pokerfaced. Maybe you went off too aggressive, but his face slacks; he was definitely accustomed to your whole act of ignoring his existence, and probably never expected you to even spare a glance his way.

A long pause before he regains his composure, “What do you mean?” his voice is a lot quieter and controlled compared to the past. Now that you notice it, he’s changed in a lot of ways. He’s no longer the bright happy-go-lucky rascal that you were once familiar with. No longer the one who didn’t care about grades, but the one sitting beside you at one of the best universities. He’s … matured a lot.

“The messages?” cutting directly into it, your eyes narrowed on him, “what are you trying to pull at?” you interrogate him. Tell me lies. Tell me the truth. Tell me you’re leaving. Tell me you’re staying.

Surprise is written all over his face, catching him off gaurd, “They’re nothing,” he clears his throat, words getting caught in the midst of it. “I just thought … I, um,” he trailed off, avoiding direct eye contact.

Your hard gaze doesn’t falter, patience running thin. “Spit it out, Yang.”

He winces at your tone, and you wished you hadn’t seen that. “I just thought that you needed it. Not needed it exactly, but, well, I assumed - I wanted to let you know -” he doesn’t finish his sentence, but starts another one instead, “I just miss you,” he states, and he’s looking at you - you remember that kind of look. The kind of look that would once tug at your heartstrings.  

Once.

You don’t know what Yang Jungwon is pulling at.

Hm. 

You stare down hard at him - eyes narrowed, prospecting, judging, and surveying. You no longer tremble at his words. You don’t falter. Have you grown immune to them? Maybe you were sincerely and truly over him after all.

He was pulling at his charms. His thoughtfulness - the little aspects that’d make you believe that he actually cared; the things you so easily fell into. Not anymore. Not after you believed, once. 

Once was enough. It’s all a simple game to him, isn’t it?

The day you break down in front of him and let him hold the strings again would be the day you would die.

Not showing a flicker of emotion, you nonchalantly tsked, irritated, “Don’t bother again, will you?” 

Jungwon doesn’t say anything, but you feel his lingering stare.

Your settling glare on the textbook in front of you could burn holes. You let him go – you dismiss him, but he never leaves his spot.

Why does he always linger behind?

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[01:03pm] yang jungwon: i don’t know if we should be alone together

read

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[02:54pm] yang jungwon: i really can’t control myself when you’re around

read

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[04:23pm] yang jungwon: i miss the old you

[04:26pm] yang jungwon: im sorry

read

How much was it going to take for you to admit that you felt the same?

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[05:33pm] yang jungwon: just so you know i didn’t mean it that way

[05:33pm] yang jungwon: i just noticed that you’ve changed

[05:33pm] yang jungwon: of course you’ve changed

[05:35pm] yang jungwon: you don’t look at me the same anymore

read

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[04:47am] yang jungwon: hi bo

[04:47am] yang jungwon: im sorry but i cant

[04:48am] yang jungwon: i really cant let you go

message delivered

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A FEW WEEKS LATER

It didn’t take much for her to piece together. She noticed the pattern of behavior from you, your sour and aggravated persona, and Jungwon’s desperate efforts, then figured you were probably his ex.

“You know,” she clicks her tongue, “the thing about love and hate is that there’s a very thin line between them.”

She squints, fingers fiddling around with a penny as she tries to explain, “they’re two sides of the same coin.”

You made a face. She’s been going about this for hours and showed no sign of stopping. Whining, you turn her way, “what are you taking about this time?”

A grin. She raises both her brows in surrender, “You guys got a lot of unfinished business.”

You give her a look, unimpressed.

“The guy nearly snapped his head yesterday the moment he heard you laugh because he wanted to know what you were laughing about,” Seoyeon stares down at you steadily, provoked that you managed to toss the fact over too easily.

You throw her a crumpled piece of paper, and she easily dodges your throw. “Sure.” you snort, barely feigning any interest.

“Cut him some slack! He was your ex for goodness’ sake, some feelings for him still have to be there at some point. You can’t hate your ex that much without actually-maybe-probably loving them,” she singsongs teasingly. This was lighthearted, you knew, but. 

You deadpanned. Feelings. 

She has got to be serious.

Some feelings still have to be there.

Your heart didn’t feel anything.

Not anymore.

She stares at you in the silence, faking astonishment.

Her mouth forms a small ‘o’, “You’ve got to be serious.”

You only blink at her.

“Stop … don’t you feel anything for him anymore? Or is it like … nothing at all?” Of course, she was talking about him, you knew that - but why were you suddenly caught off guard? This was crazy.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

No one has ever asked you this question.

How were you going to answer that?

You resented him.

You were angry. More than pissed.

You hated everything about him.

Your face scrunches up in disgust at the thought, but you answer her question after a pause, “One thing I know for sure,” you start casually, pausing in consideration, “is that I don’t want to see that annoying face of his again.”

You meant every word, this time.

You were willing to do whatever it took for that to happen.

At that moment, Seoyeon then concludes that the both of you had unfinished business. Jungwon was clearly not over you, anyone with a mile radius could see that. The boy was drop-dead crazy for you.

The more you try and repress feelings, the larger it grows.

How cliché does that sound?

She tilts her head to the side, glancing your way. But in a way, she knew it wasn’t one-sided, either.

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ all too well by taylor swift ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ 

“Jungwon?” you whispered incredulously. Rubbing your eyes due to your half-asleep state, you leaned your frame against your door with your worry starting to alarm you awake. “What’re you doing here?”

Standing at your apartment door, your boyfriend appeared rugged, his eyes tired and drowsy. You noticed his clothes were still of what you saw him wear yesterday morning. your heart ached to see him in such a state, concluding he had spent the whole day producing, working, and overworking himself without rest. You hated whenever he did this to himself.

Seeing you frown, Jungwon pulls you to his embrace, wrapping you around his arms with a contented sigh, “Just wanted to see my baby,” he mumbles out incoherently, fighting through sleep, “I’ve missed you.”

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You clung onto him, your face still at a cloudy state of haze – unreservedly astounded. Meanwhile on the other hand, Jungwon continues to laugh over your dumbfounded look. He pinches the sides of your cheeks, cooing over at you. As you try to wriggle yourself away, you found yourself embracing your figure back into his arms to squeeze his waist tightly in fear that he might disappear. He teases you at the action, lightheartedly calling you his little koala, but you don’t miss the endearing tone to his voice – or the way his breath hitches from your embrace.

“You’re here,” you managed to breathe out to yourself, burying your forehead against his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you desperately hoped to the gods above that the moment you opened them, everything wasn’t just going to turn out as another dream of yours. You could barely process much more comprehend what was going on, ‘he’s here, he’s here, he’s here’ were the only notions you could formulate by the slightest, chanting through your brainwork repeatedly for you to comprehend. Humorously, you didn’t wonder how he was possibly here, or why. He shouldn’t be - he was too busy. 

You didn’t think about the fact that he’s supposed to be halfway across the world working on his production, and definitely not here. Inhaling his scent, your ongoing worries and stress had seemed to evaporate, your form relaxing almost immediately. He smelled like home.

The loud chatters and distinctive outside noise from people passing by that surrounded the both of you, along the fact that the both of you were in a public place – all had seemed to drown out and appear forgotten. You clung to his warm figure after months of being apart, out of all the days you’d secretly dreamed about him surprising you, you never figured today was going to be that day. You clasped onto him even tighter, your smile growing wider by the second, it’s been quite some time since you ever felt half this happy.

He let out a low vibrating laugh with your face pressed against his chest, engulfing you tightly around his hold whilst swaying the both of you side to side. It was little moments and acts of efforts like these that mattered most to you. You drowned yourself at the rhythm and sound of his heartbeat that spoke the words the both of you already knew; he had missed you.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

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Maybe you were always too busy for Yang Jungwon when the both of you dated.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe that was the reason why.

Or maybe he simply always seeking attention from you, constantly and childishly. He complained about you studying too much as he started sulking alone was, he wandered around the place ‘miserably’, while you were trying to place your focus on your book, refusing to give into him again.

A little later and he tossed the fact that he had to pick up some errands, and you volunteered to help accompany him since he mentioned that he’d only be out for a while.

But after picking up the things he had acquired through his errands, the rain was against your luck and poured heavily. You cursed at yourself, having brought no umbrella with you. Looking at Jungwon, you could judge immediately by then that he didn’t bring one as well.

“Running for it sounds pretty good,” you suggested with a beam on your face, but you noticed how Jungwon huffed in disagreement, not approving of the idea; worrying that the rain might get you hurt or sick as he starts pulling out deliberate excuses and reasons.

“It’s too slippery out in the rain, you might fall,”

“Car accidents happen more often in the rain,”

“You’ll get sick, can you afford to be sick at a time like this?”

You ignored all his protests when you decided to just audaciously leave the store entrance before walking into the rain without any given warning.

He doesn’t say anything, and when you glanced back at him in question, you immediately noticed how visibly irritated he was with you misbehaving and ignoring him. Jungwon was always overly protective over you.

Though you appreciated it, his over-protectiveness wasn’t something you exactly needed at this time of your mid-terms. You just needed to study, and Jungwon could simply work on his music. The place you were at wasn’t too far from home, so it wasn’t exactly too absurd to make a run for it. 

His eyes zeroed on you, giving no humor in his eyes, “Come back in here.”

You looked at him with fake-pleading eyes, “I left my notes back home,” you frowned.

“I don’t care. You are not getting sick.”

He wanted to sit the rain out, of course he did. But you didn’t know when the rain was going to stop, or if it ever showed any signs of stopping, in the first place. Just by your boyfriend’s tone itself, you knew you got yourself in trouble. That was not a good sign, he would always pull some crazy idea that would always try to teach you a lesson. 

You didn’t move an inch from your spot.

Jungwon hurdled at you once he realizes that you were being stubborn, wrapping his arms around your waist securely regardless of the hefty downpour of rain, “Step another foot further and I’ll make sure you’ll never be touching your beloved notes again.”

“Ugh, Yang Jungwon, are you crazy?” you argued, trying to untangle yourself from him but his firm grip wouldn’t let you go.

“Jungwon, I’m serious! I really need to study, I have my exams—!”

“Aish, you’d be on your deathbed, and you wouldn’t even think of me at all, you would only care about studying!” he contested nonsensically as he dramatically complains.

You scowled at his comment, your face souring as you try wriggling yourself out of his grasp even harder, “Yah, you rascal!”

“Come back inside and I’ll let you go,” he conditions, a small grin showing that he had won. You glower at him, but having no choice but to subit and wait the next two hours by the porch of the store for the rain to subside. He covers you by towering in front of you, ensuring that you weren’t going to get hit by the rain.

Jungwon was a lot of maintenance - a lot of people would say, but he was adorable.

And most of all, he was yours. 

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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PRESENT [ JUNGWON'S POV ]

Jungwon spends the rest of his night at school fixing up your science project, without an ounce of sleep.

He finds Sunoo dropping by the room, slightly jumping in surprise at the sight of him there. He covers his chest with his hand, “What the hell are you doing here?” he lightheartedly scolds him.

But he pauses squinting at him, “Were you . . .” his eyes widen, “Dude, did you spend the entire night here?” he asks Jungwon, bewildered. “Doing . . .” he tilts his head, taking a peek, and his mouth hangs open as he finally pieces things together, “-Y/N’s science lab project . . .?”

Sunoo’s eyes almost budge out of his sockets. “Isn’t this what Y/N’s been worrying crazy about –? How did you –?”

He couldn’t exactly admit that he’s overheard you complaining about your project and begging others to help you with it miserably. He knew you always took your grades seriously, but, how could he explain this to Sunoo of all people?

Jungwon looks conflicted, immediately standing away from your project. He was finished wish it, anyway. He just needed to get here undetected by you. Kim Sunoo was a problem, however. There was no way Sunoo wasn’t not telling you about this.

“Don’t tell her I did this,” Jungwon tells him, reading Sunoo’s next moves.

His eyes dart from the project to Jungwon. He frowns, confused. “Why not?”

Jungwon hesitates with his words, being careful. “Just because. Don’t.” What the hell can he say? The bell rings, and he panics. 

“She has a hell of an ego, you know this. Tell her you fixed this or something. I don’t know. Make some shit up.”

He scurries out the lab but hangs behind at the entrance door for a few seconds.

Jungwon emphasizes what he’s told Sunoo. “I’m counting on you, bro.”

He slips away like a ghost.

Sunoo tells you that Ningning and Jake helped with your final lab project, and you believed it – eyes sparkling with relief and complete utter gratitude. You wondered how they got to finish the project in a day. They were the chemistry experts of the class, anyway – who were you to question them?

Sunoo sees Jungwon at the side of the room looking at you and your project. He watches him watch you. How happy you were with the project, and the endless showering of compliments. Was he really just . . . not going to tell you?

Sunoo takes a look at both you and Jungwon and scratches his head in utter confusion. What was going on with the both of you?

He has no idea what that boy is hiding.

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A FEW DAYS LATER IN THAT WEEK

Jungwon really was getting in your nerves.

On your way to class, you did nothing but mind your own business when he swirls out of nowhere and pushes you aside, refraining you from entering the classroom. You furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, trying to wriggle away from his grasp, but his grip stays firm. He’s holding the sides of both your arms to let you stay in place, looking anxious and rushed. “Wait.”

“Yang Jungwon, what the hell?”

He tries to find words to say, but he can’t find any. “I . . . like the color of your hair. Did you dye it?”

Your stare is blank. “What?”

“I need recommendations. I might use it too, so –“

“This is my natural hair color.” you deadpan, without an ounce of friendliness, “now if you’ll excuse me –”

“No! Gah,” he lets out a frustrated noise, rushed, “. . . the speech report! I need help in –“

He was messing with you. He had to be.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you try to breathe in calmly, but you were talking through your gritted teeth. “You submitted your speech report last week,” you hissed, your patience running thin.

You finally wriggle yourself free from his grasp, and that was when the panic was evident in Jungwon’s features.

You barely get to move an inch before, “Do you still have hang-ups on me?” He rushes out of nowhere, an attempt of desperation.

What?

To say that you were at a loss for words was an understatement.

You freeze. Staring at him, dumbfounded.

Were you simply a joke to him?

What was he saying? He was desperate, willing to just have your attention anywhere else. You could not enter the room. That was his plan.

You were trying to regain composure. Clamping your jaw down hard, your eyes narrowed. “Please, kindly fuck off.”

You stalk away, pissed off.

As soon as he ensured that you were walking the opposite direction, and Jungwon heaves a small sigh of relief. At least.

He budges the door classroom open – the room he had noticed that a couple of asshats were trying to pull on harsh pranks on – and immediately, an old tray of leftover food spills from above, falling flat on the floor instead as Jungwon dodges it from anticipating this beforehand.

And you piece thing and thing together.

This was what he was driving you away from?

Because that could’ve been you.

His eyes settle on the group of bullies seated at the end of the room. He cracks his knuckles. Jungwon’s eyes have never been so deadly.

Jungwon comes in class later with a purple bruise coloring his upper left cheek, and a busted lip.

You don’t ask him the story, but instead, you assume the worst in him. Like you always do.

He’s up to no good.

He always was.

.

.

.

[08:12pm] yang jungwon: are you going?

[08:21pm] you: ?

[08:21pm] yang jungwon: oh hi love

[08:22pm] yang jungwon: are you coming to gyeonju tower tomorrow? i wanted to tell you in person today but you seemed like u were in a rush to leave

[08:24pm] you: ? what do you want

[08:25pm] yang jungwon: i wanted to explain things

[08:25pm] yang jungwon: and explain myself

read

[08:53pm] yang jungwon: i want to make things right

[08:54pm] yang jungwon: please let me, bo

[08:54pm] you: im busy.

[08:57pm] yang jungwon: i’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at 1pm

[09:00pm] you: i said im not going.

[09:02pm] yang jungwon: just one chance, please

[09:04pm] yang jungwon: one last one

read

You didn’t care, you weren’t going.

.

.

.

THE FOLLOWING DAY

You’ve decided that you wouldn’t go.

You won’t go.

You won’t go, end of discussion.

You spent the last night considering it until two in the morning. You’ve finalized your decision. “This is a no-brainer. Who does he think he is? I’m not giving him the satisfaction,” you rant morely to yourself - it was almost as if you werer trying to convince yourself instead.

You tug at the ends of your hair in frustration, hissing. Both Ningning and Seoyeon watches you in silent amusement after being told of the situation. The two were the only ones who knew about you and Jungwon, and the only two who you’ve been ranting to for the past two hours.

“I’m not going,” you repeat aggravatedly, exclaiming as you fling your arms. You pace around the room. 

Ningning languidly lazes around the chair as you frantically pace around the room, “So you’ve told us for the past forty six times,” she can’t help but comment, fighting away her grin. You scowl at her, grabbing the strap of your bag to sling it around your shoulder.

“You guys are annoying. I’m leaving.”

Both Seoyeon and Ningning stare after you, waving you goodbye at your stressed state.

Ningning props herself up with her elbows, leaning her cheek with the palm of her hands as soon as you’ve left the room. She stares at Seoyeon, who was mindlessly scrolling through her phone, “She’s definitely going, isn’t she?”

Seoyeon tosses the bag of chips that she’s been hogging Ningning’s way - which she accepts immediately, munching down on the ones on her palm with disinterest, “Yep.”

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.

.

LATER, 1 PM

You tug awkwardly at your sleeve, eyes searching for a certain figure in mind as they bunglingly dart around the place.

So, maybe you really did end up going to the tower. Just to check things out. That was it. And maybe see if he was there. If he really showed up. Hear what he wanted to say if it was important. Nothing more. You felt bad just leaving him alone - you weren’t like him, intentionally leaving someone on for hours to wait for you. 

You had a conscience. You simply showed up because you didn’t want to be burdened by it. 

You don’t know how long you waited on the first half of the period under the heat of the sun from the tower, but by the time you take out your phone to check the time, it was half past one in the afternoon.

Tick-tok.

Tick-tok.

You stare at your phone’s lock screen, expecting a text from Jungwon to pop up any second to inform you that he was probably running late. Anything.

An hour passes by.

You figure you’d give him another thirty minutes. Just another thirty minutes. If he wasn’t going to show up, you didn’t care anymore. You would leave.

It was past 30 minutes.

Another hour passes by.

Until rain starts to lightly drizzle.

Until clouds start to darken.

Until your legs start to ache.

And until you were soaking and clothes drenched with water in the pouring heavy rain.

Again.

Until it dawns on you.

Jungwon isn’t here.

He wasn’t coming.

He was never going to.

And there you were, standing alone stupidly – a fool. A fool who never learned her lesson after two years.

He was enjoying this; toying with you, he’s got to be.

You don’t know why you really expected anything else from him.

A heavy exhale.

You don’t know why you hoped you did.

.

.

.

You get a call from Jungwon by the evening. You were dumbly weak enough to easily get manipulated to answer the phone.

He sounded frantic, “Hello? Y/N? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t able to attend our meet-up. I’m - I’m really sorry, I was really planning to go -” You wish you could believe him.

“Yeah. It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you sound too monotone for your words to sound like you meant them.

“I’m so sorry that you waited on me, I promise I’ll make it up to -” No more promises. No more, Jungwon. I can’t take anymore.

You harshly cut him off, oppressive. “What do you mean? I didn’t come. I told you I won’t, didn’t I?”

You still had your dignity. Lies were all that you had left. You’d lie just for Jungwon to not get that sense of satisfaction from you. You wouldn’t let him.

He is silent, “Yeah, I know.”

You inhale, vexed. Your eyes flicker around the room, feeling flighty with apprehension. “What’s up, anyway? What held you from coming?” you made an effort to sound as casual as possible bringing it up, as if you didn’t care. As if you didn’t spend the whole afternoon drenched in pouring rain waiting for him.

A long silent pause again. You could tell he was hesitating to answer.

He tries to let out a lighthearted laugh as he waves it off, "It’s nothing.” 

It was nothing, again. It’s always nothing. Were you ever something - anything - to him?

It takes a moment for you to register his response. How effortlessly care-free he was about it. Your tone appears tight, “Okay. Well, it’s good that you weren’t able to go. I wasn’t there anyway.” You didn’t know what else to say other than stressing that you never came. That you didn’t care.

Lie.

“Oh,” is what Jungwon replies with, he sounded distracted - like his mind wasn’t in the conversation. He wasn’t interested in talking to you anyway, why did he bother calling? 

You grit at your teeth, “I’m not a fool, Jungwon.”

You don’t know if he’s even listening to you, you start to question. It takes long for him to respond, “I know.”

He was being as short with his responses as ever. Was this what he called explaining himself? You doubt if he ever cared about making it up to you in the first place. You try to hide your disappointment in your tone with impatience, “Is that all? I’m gonna go now. I’m busy.”

You don’t wait for his reply.

You immediately end the call and toss your phone as far as you could.

You hope that was worth it for Jungwon.

.

.

.

[ JUNGWON’S POV ] . . . what really happened

Jungwon woke up three hours earlier that day.

When Jungwon was getting himself dressed, a boy from across the city was still sleeping through his alarm that he wasn’t able to set the night before. Meanwhile, a girl was waiting somewhere in the city’s lobby, waiting for her boyfriend to pick her up.

While that happened, Jungwon was on his way to a jewelry shop to buy you a gift. He was beyond excited to see you. The boy from across the city was still sleeping, but the girl’s boyfriend eventually came to pick her up. On the other side, Jungwon had forgotten his credit card, and had no other option to pay by cash.

By this time, the sleeping boy’s mother barges into the boy’s room to wake him up as he was late for class – and asking him if he spent another late night playing with his friends. The girl in her boyfriend’s car receives a text from her ex while her boyfriend stops by to pick up the cake they ordered for their anniversary.

Jungwon was nearly at the Gyeonju tower when the boy who was running late for class stumbled out of the house, got on his bike, and peddled as fast as he could. The girl was already texting her ex-boyfriend by this time, and before she could tuck her phone away as soon as her boyfriend got into the car, the boyfriend had caught her already.

All the while the couple slowly started to argue about her talking to her ex, Jungwon was stuck in traffic and anxiously waiting – frustrated. Though he had more than an hour to spare, he wanted to see you as quickly as possible. This was the moment of his life that meant most to him. The boy who was running late took a wrong turn because he was not on the right state of mind, still half-asleep.

The couple argued all the way to the girlfriend’s parents’ house while the boy in the bike running late was trying to find his way out of the unfamiliar place, completely flustered. Jungwon had already arrived at Gyeonju tower, parking his car before trying to fix up his hair. He never really cared about how he looked like, but Jungwon’s nerves were jittering. This was the first time he was so anxious to see you.

And finally, at the same time, the boy was too distracted to see the couple’s car in front of him – as well as the couple, as they were still too busy arguing. Jungwon had just gotten out of the car, crossing the road.

It all happened too quickly.

If the son had set his alarm the day before and wasn’t running late for his class, if the girl hadn’t picked up the call from her ex-boyfriend, if couple hadn’t been arguing while the boyfriend was driving, or if Jungwon didn’t take his time in the car mirror trying to make sure he looked good for you - then maybe he would’ve gotten to meet you that night.

Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten into that car accident.

Maybe none of this would’ve be happening right now.

Life is a series of multiple interactions, they said.

The next situation Jungwon finds himself in was lying still – unable to move – in the hospital emergency room with blood – his blood? – covered all over his clothes, and when he gains the smallest bit of energy to barely open his eyes, he feels like he’s lost everything all over again.

In spite of all the events, he remembers you.

Your smile.

And his promise.

But he blacks out.

.

.

.

The moment Jungwon awakes into consciousness, his first thought isn’t what he was doing in an emergency room hospital, all alone. It isn’t wondering why he had blood all over his clothes, or why his body physically hurt too much for him to move.

His first thought was you.

His first thought was always going to be you. Where were you? What-? He sees the small bag settled beside him, squinting at it - before realizing it was for you. For the meeting. Today. Shit. In less than half a second, he ignores the pins and needles of his skin feeling like it was being stretched out just to reach his phone and dial your number. 

“Hello? Y/N? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t able to attend our meet-up. I’m - I’m really sorry, I was really planning to go -”

Your tone interrupts him midway, seemingly clipped and tight. “Yeah. It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” were you mad? Guessing by the tone of your voice, you seemed upset. Lord, he begged for that one chance you gave him and he had to go through this out of all the occasions?

You pinches the bridge of his nose after running a hand through his hair, cursing inwardly. How many more chances could you give him? You would never believe him ever again. “I’m so sorry that you waited on me, I promise I’ll make it up to -” 

Your response hits him right in the gut, harder and more painful than any of the stitches and bandages he had being freshly reopened. “What do you mean? I didn’t come. I told you I won’t, didn’t I?”

His throat constricts, eyes lowering as the grip on the phone tightens, “Yeah, I know.” He hangs his head low. 

You shrug it off with disinterest, your tone indifferent. “What’s up, anyway? What held you from coming?”

He hesitates, glancing down at the patches of bandages and stitches. He doesn’t try to explain. He doesn’t want you to know. What could he say to cover things up? He tries to avoid sounding suspicious with a lighthearted laugh, “It’s nothing.”

God, it sounded fake.

Your indifference rings through his mind over and over again. Did you really not care about him anymore? Did you really mean it when you said you weren’t going to go? A sharp stab in the heart each time the thought rings through him.

A pause.

“Okay. Well, it’s good that you weren’t able to go. I wasn’t there anyway.”

“Oh,” was all Jungwon could respond with, he was beginning to feel dizzy - overwhelmed and exhausted. A sharp buzz rang deaf through his ears.

The room started to spin as you continued through the call – unaware, “I’m not a fool, Jungwon,” you remind him. Was it really the end?

Has he finally lost you?

He doesn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t deny the fact that it hurt. Everything hurts. Fuck. A long pause, “I know.”

“Is that all? I’m gonna go now. I'm busy,” you harshly end things, not bothering to expant the conversation or on the details. You don’t push him. You don’t care.

The line went dead.

A piece of him along with it died too.

Jungwon sits at one of the emergency room’s beds alone and he realizes that the hospital could heal all his physical wounds and scars, but he doesn’t think the internal pain he’s feeling could be treated.

A nurse that was passing by finds him passed out, unconscious, and unresponsive only long minutes later.

.

.

.

A WEEK LATER

Initially, you had planned to keep away from Jungwon at all costs the moment classes started again. He could suffer all he needed.

But.

You don’t see Jungwon.

Not that you cared if he was around - it was a relief to you that you didn’t have to deal with him, but didn’t you .. deserve an explanation? 

No.

That’s right. An explanation from Jungwon for ditching you was something you would never get. That hasn’t changed, and you were a fool for believing otherwise. 

You repeatedly sneak glances by his desk - anywhere, for a sign of him. It was useless to ask anyone else. His friends? When had Jungwon ever tried talking to somebody that wasn’t you? 

Not that you ever took notice, either. 

It’s been a week.

Seconds tick by slowly, and lectures drag in what seems like hours. It comes to the point where you almost decide on texting his number and demanding where he was. It took every part of yourself to manage to not do so.

Your notifications remained empty this time.

No messages. No calls.

He’s gone again.

.

.

.

THREE WEEKS LATER [JUNGWON’S POV ]

With a fractured arm and multiple wounds and stitches, Jungwon had to opt to wait three weeks before he was able to attend classes again.

He only looks forward to seeing your face.

To explain everything to you.

He messed up again.

Maybe you were looking for him? It’s been three weeks, maybe you had wondered for a fraction where he went all of a sudden? Maybe you were worried? Maybe you were concerned? Or maybe you didn’t care? Maybe you were celebrating right now?

He flinches that the thought. 

He spots you by the hallways after his hour long search around the campus. You barely looked bothered at all. That was fine, Jungwon reminded himself. He walks his way towards you with the gift he had bought you weeks prior, when the accident had happened. The gift he had protected with his life to save, and had held on for weeks to give to you. If he wasn’t going to explain things, he at least wanted to give you the gift he had picked for you. 

He thinks you’d look pretty in it. 

However, as soon as he tries to open his mouth to speak to you once he was close enough for you to hear him, you coldly ignore him entirely. You pack up your things once you hear the bell, ringing just in time for classes to start. You barely even spare him a single glance.

You walk past him like was invincible.

Like you couldn’t care any less of what happened to him.

It turns out, you were never worried at all.

That fucking him hurt more than being hit by a car a hundred times ever did.

.

.

.

[01:24 pm] yang jungwon: im sorry

[01:29 pm] yang jungwon: can we talk?

[read]

You blocked yang jungwon’s number that day.

.

.

.

[JUNGWON . . . ]

Seoyeon made you laugh.

It was unintentional, he guessed. But she made you laugh. In a way. Other’s might’ve called it a snort. It was a goofy side-comment he made when you expanded the instructions on the chapter needed to be finished. He felt himself destructing and freezing while his heart soared and ripped itself apart. He swore he was flying while being drowned six feet under at the same time.

As someone who spent his entire life on music, Yang Jungwon has heard many sounds. Various melodies and tunes, but none of them were like yours. He’s been walking around tone-deaf for the past few years because it was like he forgot the way your laugh sounded and the way it made him feel like he could do anything.

It was like you immediately regretted it - laughing with him in the room, and maybe his emotions were written all over his face because Jungwon was losing you all over again when you disclose your emotions off once again from him. Then he’s all but greeted with a cold face - an effect of the mess he caused.

He remembers the time where you were his to call, and now, you couldn’t even stand to look at him - or be in the same room as him. He remembers the time where you would look at him and the way your eyes would light up, and now, he looks at your eyes for a fraction of a second and they’re dead. Once vibrant and easy to read - now empty and desolate. Nobody is home. They’re emotionless for him.

Your eyes only tell lies now.

You’ll never be like the way you used to be again.

To think that he ruined it. That he ruined a smile that ran so deep and had so much meaning. A smile that was always for him. A soul that had so much love and kindness for him. He shattered that. That was because of him.

He remembers the time where receiving ‘I love you’s from you were everyday like routines to you, and he compares it with the flash irritation that would cross your face and the petty tone of anger he would get from you every time he tried talking to you. 

You’ve changed.

He doesn’t know what those two years have done to you.

What he’s done to you.

Maybe he really messed it up. Maybe he should run and leave and never see you again so he would stop hurting you and fucking you up over and over again. Maybe he should let you move on and let you be happy with someone else. Maybe he should just stop hoping because the gods above know that they don’t trust him with you alone. 

It was killing him.

Jungwon couldn’t do any of that.

Getting to see you every day - it was already much of a blessing compared to the two years in the shithole he went through without you, waking up to feel nothing but empty - if it’s not endlessly torturing and tormenting himself for putting you through what he had to. 

But couldn’t Jungwon be a little selfish? Just this once? Couldn’t he ask for a little bit more?

If Jungwon could admit, he never wanted much, nor has he asked for much either. To say the truth, he doesn’t care about ninety percent of his life: fuck his gods be damned ‘career’, fuck air and water and happiness and money. 

Yang Jungwon was someone that had no interest in the world. He never really got to care about anything. But you. He met you. You were his first. You were all he cared about. You were all that really mattered.

And that was his world.

You were his world.

It’s been two years since he lost you - since he let you go for good, and that was worse than dying. Each moment was as if it was meant to come back at him and break his soul - or whatever’s left of it. All Yang Jungwon gives a damn about is you. 

He was damn well still in love with you, and he was never getting you back.

He’s lost you.

And the separating distance between the both of you proves it better than anything.

.

.

.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

THE TWISTING POINT

.

.

.

Jungwon wasn’t in a good mood today.

It was most likely because of work, so you didn’t want to question or pressure him into dwelling into it any further. You stayed smiling, knowing that whenever you were down, Jungwon knew exactly what to do. He needed sunshine.

You hear glass shatter, and loud clanging accompanied with it. You sprang upwards, racing to Jungwon’s aid to check yourself if he was hurt.

As you stared at the mess created, and the person who seemingly intentionally created the mess, you only stood by the doorway. 

You knew him, he wasn’t the type to let his anger consume and get the best of him, nor was he the type to physically express his anger. Especially around you. Jungwon loved the idea of you seeing him as a laid-back unique oddball, and you’ve rarely ever seen him irritated or angry. You’ve never seen him like this, however. 

You remained silent; your gaze downcast. Whatever happened in the studio today must have been seriously rough enough to affect him into a state like this. 

The room is too silent. “Won?” He loves being called that name; he’s told you. It gets him erupting with happiness in no time, but why isn’t it working now? 

Why does Jungwon’s eyes look so empty?

“Can you leave?” he asks you when you try to help clean up the broken shards of glass, finally uttering a word after the first time you’ve seen him today. 

“I don’t need you here right now.”  

Jungwon sees the way you freeze. The way confusion flashes over your face. The way your hopeful and gentle eyes crack by a fraction.

Jungwon sees it all.

You purse your lip in hesitation, worried, but you follow his request with a nod nonetheless as you quietly slip out of the room. I’m always here for you if you need me.

Jungwon feels nothing but emptiness.

.

.

.

“Jungwon, you’ve missed two meals.”

He’s stuck in his music room. Again. Your lips pull into a forming frown at his state, placing the plate of food that you’ve organized for him at a table nearest to you. 

He only gives you a glance before his attention is back at his music, “I’m kind of busy here,” he blandly reminds you the obvious, and you feel yourself mentally deflate, a bit. 

A pause. You sucked in a breath. “I know, but you shouldn’t skip meals, okay? Take some rests,” you keep your voice gentle, hopeful. 

He barely gives a grunt in reply.

Why didn’t you see that he didn’t want you anymore then?

You swallow, trying in another attempt, “Um, do you need any help in -” Jungwon swivels his chair abruptly, turning completely at you. It’s the first time you see him look at you in a while, “No,” the look in his eyes is something you’d never forget, “I’m fine, Y/N.” And when he turns his back on you, you feel a jab in the gut. 

Ah.

You get the message.

You weren’t wanted around.

“Okay, I’ll uhh … I’ll …” you don’t finish your sentence, merely signaling that you were going to leave, but well aware that Jungwon was already back facing his screen. You don’t think he notices. You don’t think he ever notices anything at all.

No response. Not even a glance your way.

You felt so lonely.

.

.

.

Jungwon was going out again, as he’s all done for the past week.

Maybe you were overthinking all of this, but you felt as if he was doing whatever it took to avoid you. To avoid looking at you. To avoid talking to you. To avoid spending time with you. Of course, it was all in your head. 

He would never hurt you like that, Jungwon was just busy. He was just going through things. He had it rough, you should be considerate.

It was just you alone most of the time, and you started to wonder if he was doing fine. If he needed you, at all.

“Jungwon?”

He turns to you, his body almost out of the door. “Are you okay?” you gently ask him.

He blinks. “I’m fine,” he replies after a pause.

You wanted to help him, whatever he was going through. You wanted to go through it with him together — you wanted to be there for him. “You don’t seem fine,” you try to start, “Jungwon, I’m here for you, you can talk to me if you—”

An exasperated sound of displeasure cuts you off, like a tether piecing everything together that snaps. “Can’t you do anything else other than bother me?” he waves you off, slamming the door in visible distress. He leaves you like that, and he doesn’t have to say anything else to make the wound hurt all the more.

The words left unsaid were enough.

He doesn’t come back the next day.

You wished he’d have told you how he loved you before he left, even if he didn’t mean it.

.

.

.

The air was cold. You know that it was not because of the weather.

Your mind wanders.

Sometimes you consider the fact that there could be someone else.

You wonder where everything started to change, and somedays, the thoughts get heavy and immensely difficult for you to carry. Sometimes they hurt too much to think about. You can’t help but wonder where your love lacked for him, in where you gave him everything. Even if it costed more than you could afford, it was worth it. But was it not for him? Was it not anymore?

It’s hard to fight what was fated.

But you would’ve still ruined yourself to fix him.

Even if there was another person, you think, you just wished he told you - so you would stop foolishly hoping and trying to convince yourself that this was all a sick phase of his that would eventually pass. So, you would stop foolishly assuming that there was ‘together’ and ‘forever’ for the both of you. You wouldn’t insist on it anymore, if that’s what made him happy. Watching him torture himself like that and choosing not to say anything to you was more painful than anything else.

You knew you were not the one in his heart.

This was all going to pass, right?

Jungwon, talk to me.

.

.

.

Jungwon can make it better.

He always has. You could never remember a time where he didn’t come to swoop in and save your day.

Was this the timing in where you realize that things were permanently going to change?

A simple month changes you a lot.

You believed, but you were slowly losing the light.

You gave so many signs.

So many warning signs.

He walked past every single one of them.

You couldn’t be the only one fighting for something that was already gone. Something that was thrown away and given up on. Because you have been, for as long as you can, and you don’t know if you can still continue to allow yourself to put yourself through it - because you don’t know if you can take it. Even if it was just one last time.

But still, you were willing to offer him anything he wanted the moment he needed it. You were ready to run to his side even if it killed you. Waste my time, waste it all.

The painful fake smiles, and pretending if everything was perfectly fine, as if you were okay, and the desperate pair of eyes that he always seemed to ignore.

You don’t know when it would stop.

You could only wish he would stay a bit longer to savor before he was going to make it hurt for you.

You felt the fatigue, then.

It’ll get better soon.

.

.

.

THE BREAKING POINT

It was all about him.

You don’t know if you could take this any longer.

“Jungwon?” you called out to him - through the empty house, “I’m tired.” Faintly.

You were washing the dishes after immediately arriving home from your part-time job. No time for giving yourself a rest, or for catching up on the upcoming exam the next day. It was eleven o’clock at night. You heard the door slam, and you knew Jungwon was home.

He could mope around and throw things around. He was entitled to treat you harshly because he was going through a rough time. He could do absolutely nothing. That was how everything worked.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t cry. You couldn’t pause and rest. You weren’t entitled to feel angry or irritated because you weren’t going through whatever he was going through. You had to take care of him, and you had to endure getting treated that way our you could leave and walk through the door.

The shuffling of footsteps stops. You don’t move. You leave the faucet water running, eyes staring distantly - somewhere. But you don’t look over at him. You know that the courage that you’ve spent months trying to build up would come crashing down the moment you do.

There is no noise, only the running of the water. You know he’s listening.

“I can’t do it anymore,” you bat an eye, and your shoulders ease up a little. There is a certain stillness in the air.

“I feel like I’m just wasting my life in this relationship,” you’ve thought about this. You’ve tried to shrug the feeling off, but you wanted to know if you wanted to fight for him too. “I’m always looking stupid. I’m always left behind,” Isn’t it exhausting for you too, Jungwon? 

Nothing. Silence. No response. 

He wasn’t pushing you.

He wasn’t begging you to stay, like he always did.

He wasn’t going to even just try to change your mind.

He’s letting you go.

That infuriates you further, and you hate that he’s making you feel like you’re being too unreasonable without having to say anything. You hate the words he’s saying to you without even him having to open his mouth. Silence is all you’ve been receiving, hasn’t it? It’s always turning his back. It’s always the cold shoulder, whatever he had to say - he wouldn’t say it. It’s always been that way. Itwas always you that had to adjust. 

You hated this.

You hated this so much.

It was him leaving you alone to your degrading thoughts that would break you more than he ever can, “It’s all about you. It’s all just about your sufferings, isn’t it? It’s all just yours!” 

Why wasn’t he stopping you?

Why wasn’t he trying to fix this?

You wanted him to explain himself and assure you that everything was going to be okay. You wanted to work this out. Good God, you did. More than anything. But what happened to the day when you missed the most important exams for him just because he was too in his head to take care of himself? Where was he? What was he doing? Where was he when you were called to the school’s office because you were nearly falling off school? Where was he when you cried countlessly from overwhelming stress because of that?

Where was he when you were pacing back and forth at four in the morning without a wink of sleep, waiting for him to come back home and wondering to the heavens what the hell had happened to him? Where was he when you felt so isolated and alone? Where was he when your parents turned your back on you for you giving up everything for a boy who already seemed to have given up on you? Where was he to fight for you? Where was he to look you in the eye and give you a reason to keep fighting - to stay?

Jungwon was going through shit. That was something you understood. Something you wished he never went through, something you know he doesn’t deserve. And you were there for him. Every step of the way. But that didn’t mean that you had it all easy, either - did it? Didn’t he know? Or did he just not care? 

You wanted to work this out. But … did he?

Soft, too soft. You could barely hear. “So desperate,” it was murmured. A pause, a shift in movement, and he was gone. 

He was gone. He walked away. Like it meant nothing to him.

It stays, lingering. But he leaves.

You can’t believe him.

So monotone.

So emotionless.

Like it doesn’t mean anything.

He breaks you.

You crack open.

He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t fight for you. He doesn’t feel anything for you. He doesn’t find a reason to stay. 

He finds a reason to leave.

That was it. And you weren’t even sure if he said it. Maybe it was a flicker of your imagination. Maybe you were going insane, was what it was. Did he leave?

He couldn’t have.

It was the end.

End.

The end of the both of you.

After that end, there was … nothing.

It was the end?

Your weight leans against the counter table in support, breathing heavily. Your heartbeat racing, your mind processing. A minute passes by, and you still stand frozen.

No. The stillness was too much to handle, you needed Jungwon, even if the only words he was ever going to say to you would hurt. You stumbled, rushing after the door as you tried calling after him. You didn’t want him to go. You couldn’t let him, you won’t give up on him. You needed him there. You were tired, and you needed Jungwon.

“Jungwon.” Where was he off to the moment you finally told him how you were feeling? Was it a mistake? Should you have stayed quiet instead?

“I didn’t mean what I said, come back and we’ll talk this out,” you called after him. You would take it all back.

He was gone. 

You turned, and you turned, and you hoped. Nothing. Pitch black. Darkness.

“Jungwon?” you were crying now, crumbling a little. “Jungwon, I’m sorry, please come back, please.” you begged. And you kept calling him, until even the gods above could hear you. But where was he? No, he was going to come back for you. He was. 

He was going to explain that he was sorry and that he never meant to hurt you. He was going to pop up right next to you like he always used it. He was going to smile at you with a cheeky grin and make fun of how you fell for his sick joke. He was going to give you a reason to stay and you were going to be okay.

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” you shouted after him, numbly trying to follow his footsteps that weren’t there. Footsteps that were erased. The footsteps of someone who promised he’d never leave your side. It was pathetic. Your desperation was pathetic.

Where did he go? Which way did he go? Please show up. Please. Please.

You shivered at the cold. Why was it raining so hard? You could barely see a thing. It was too dark. Not a single light in sight. You didn’t even realize it was raining. But it didn’t matter. You wouldn’t go home until Jungwon was back. And safe. Everything will be okay.

Moments pass and you don’t know if it took hours. Jungwon wasn’t there and you were losing him the way you were losing yourself. “Please,” your voice came out a whisper as your legs gave up on you, falling into your knees, “come back to me,” your body shakes, and that was the end. 

All you were left with was the memories. 

The both of you were nothing but memories now.

Ended because of happenstance.

He was still gone the next day.

And the next.

And the next after the next.

And the week after.

And the month after.

And after that.

You waited.

He promised.

You believed.

Ah.

You felt it, then.

The light you held onto exhaled and took its last breath.

Expired.

When things are expired - when things pass its due date, no matter how much big of a waste it is, or how much you were looking forward for it; you can only throw it away.

Because your relationship wasn’t the only thing gone and lost to disappear that day. It wasn’t only him - or it wasn’t the one thing you cared most about. It was you. You came along with it. You; a simple crumpled worn-out paper thrown away. A rough draft. Scrapped and forgotten. 

He wasn’t coming back. 

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

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[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ skin by sabrina carpenter ]

PRESENT TIME, THE FOLLOWING DAY

The group was chatting with each other as usual. You were with Ningning and Seoyeon, catching up with the latest most random topics while you were making it a point to ignore Jungwon’s longing stare. Until Jake Sim takes a glance his way and points out of nowhere, “What happened to your arm?”

He immediately replies, “Nothing.”

When you sneak a glance over at Jungwon’s arm, he catches you and straight away tucks his arm away from your side’s view as casually as possible. Why did he have bandages? Your brows furrowed at him, skeptically surveying him.

What was he hiding this time? 

.

.

.

It was in the middle of individual study period when Ningning queries out of nowhere, “Y/N, Is Jungwon trying to win you back?”

A few glances your way at the sudden uplifting noise through the quiet room.

You almost choke. You wish you did. “What?” Loudly whispering, you snap your head over her direction, eyes blazing down at her incredulously.

“He isn’t?” Seoyeon pipes in, questioning incredulously, all the more surprised than you. The both of them were never going to let her newfound discovery of exes that were quote “fated back together” end quote. You stare blankly at the both of them, unamused.

She shrugs innocently. “He looks like it,” she answers her own query and peeks over his way. Explaining, she heaves a casual exhale, “He keeps looking over at you every five seconds with those starry hopeful eyes as if you’d change your mind.”

Your face hardens at the mention of it. You hadn’t told what happened between you and Jungwon to anyone. Once both Seoyeon and Ningning had asked for the details of what happened, you simply brushed it off, not wanting to talk about it. They had assumed something went wrong.

Whatever Seoyeon had in mind to be out of a romantic film - this wasn’t the case. You had no idea what he was up to, but it was most probably something that would put up some entertainment to aid his boredom before he fleets away again. 

She playfully nudged you with the edge of her elbow, “So, what made you dump him?”

She laughed. Loud. She was talking quite too casually that you speculated Jungwon could hear the conversation. His head was bowed, supposedly reading. You couldn’t read his facial features. You don’t want to.

“Poor dude, he looks like he’s had it rough.” Of course, everyone would assume it was Jungwon who was dumped. That it was him who was hurting. That it was him who got the mistreatment. You were the bad guy. In the end it’s your fault.

A chill runs down your spine. You dumped him? You almost laugh aloud in sarcasm, but it comes out as a snort. Waving her off teasingly, you motion the both of them to shoo away, “Shove off.”

Seoyeon gives a toothy beam before scribbling something down her notebook, Ningning peeks over to read it and giggles. You barely catch a glimpse of it.

‘Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath.’

.

.

.

LATER, AT THE LIBRARY

Another day. That meant another meeting with both Jungwon and Seoyeon in the library. After long hours, the group meeting was finished. All there was left to do was to submit the chapter’s draft for corrections to the professor; it had been decided already that Seoyeon and Jungwon were to do it.

You were leisurely taking your time packing up your stuff when Seoyeon hurriedly scurries out on her way to exit the library. “Hey, Jungwon, I’m really busy today, so I can’t accompany you to pass the papers. I just realized I have soccer practice,” she forms her lips into a pout, faking a thought. It occurs to you then that Seoyeon doesn’t have varsity. 

Your eyes narrow at where this was going. “What about ask Y/N to do it? She has nothing to do anyway!” she winks, lightheartedly hitting Jungwon’s arm. He was taken aback, looking confused and somewhat lost himself, but having no choice left other than nodding, he agrees. “Uh . . . sure.”

Seoyeon turns your way and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at you as soon as Jungwon had himself distracted with the papers in the meantime, giving you a thumbs up as if to say ‘you can do this!’ before slipping out of the room - faster before you could protest.

You scowled darkly, clenching down your jaw. If looks could kill. That girl.

On the other hand, Jungwon continues to arrange the pile of papers with a shuffle before quietly handing them to you, he then started on packing up his things. It was suffocating. Would leaving the room make it seem like you lost this nonexistent battle between the both of you? 

He cuts you out of your trance of thoughts, “You were there that day at the tower, weren’t you?” he asks you out of the blue. He doesn’t even look your way as he stuffs a few books in his bag, and he doesn’t have to give context for you to know what he was referring to. not a look of uncertainty was evident in his eyes, “I know you were.”

Anger starts to boil inside. You have to remind yourself that this is what he wanted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you casually dismissed.

He inwardly huffs out a breath. “Was it tough for you?” he changes the topic, and you swear it was only a matter of time before he gives you the biggest whiplash.

You were raging with endless anger and fury, yet you keep your face was void of any emotions – standing in front of him as his form blocked your path, stressing you even further. You gripped the strap of your backpack tightly, “Move out of my way, Jungwon.”

“Answer me, first.” he pleads with you. “Was it tough for you, then?”

He doesn’t budge and stubbornly remains rooted to his spot.

You grit your teeth, ripping apart your poorly concealed anger bit by bit. Jungwon didn’t care. He wanted you to feel emotion. Any emotion. Even if it was blinding rage. To scream at him and punch the living lights out of him. It was better than receiving your blank emotionless stare all the time. He couldn’t take it.

He was definitely testing your patience carelessly. Was it tough for you? You laughed humorlessly. A stab to his gut. A knife filled with poison. “I don’t know what you want, but let���s be mature people here. You do whatever hell you’ve been doing the last two years, and I’ll continue do the same. Okay?” you spoke, your tone hostile. You take the folder placed beside him before leaving him there, disinterested.

It wasn’t as simple for you as it has been for him to simply walk the relationship off down the drain. 

Not when he promised the world.

Not when you believed him.

Not when he was standing there right in front of you acting as if he didn’t know anything about the shit you had to go through without him. As if he was just innocent. As if he had nothing to do with it. As if he cared. And especially not when he was the one who put you there and left in the first place. 

This is what had become of the both of you. Jungwon and you. Worse than strangers, haunted by what’s left of something that was long gone. 

All he had to do then was apologize. Actually, he just had to come back, and you would do the apologizing for him. You were always the one who gave in, in the end, anyway. 

You would’ve accepted him.

You would’ve even begged for him.

The things you would have done.

None of this would’ve happened.

But.

None of that would work now.

None of that mattered.

It was all too late.

The both of you were just so different now.

.

.

.

LATER

Riki was confusing, truly.

“Didn’t you make fun of me two years ago about how much of a dumbass I was?” you rolled your eyes incredulously at Riki picking at you to how rude you were being to Jungwon, “You hated him, what’s with the change of attitude?” you snort.

Riki shifts his weight, fixing the strap of his bag, “You were a dumbass,” he agrees, pulling a face at you, “and I still hate that guy,” he continues, his expression turning sour at the thought of him, but pauses.

“But you were happy,” he looks over at you deliberately.

 A happy dumbass. You could cringe, that was the old you. The desperate old you. Long gone.

You were most definitely not having it, your facial expression hard. “Did you have a head trauma or something? A fever? Are you forgetting the past two years?” you press the back of your hand to his forehead, checking his temperature and warmth for dramatic effect.

He pushes your hand away, “I’m just saying,” he starts, talking to you as if you were a child, “he left, but he’s back, isn’t he?” he throws his hands around for emphasis.

Then he shrugs, like he doesn’t know any better either, “He’s gotta be back for a reason.”

You don’t care. You don’t care what reason he’s back, or whatever he wants from you. “He can’t just come and go as he pleases, idiot,” you forcefully shrug it off, grumbling. “that jerk made his decision that day. He made his bed and now he has to lie in it.”

And Riki gives up on how stubborn you are, “You really do hold grudges, don’t you?” he ruffles your hair up, amused. 

Strangling a sound, you kick the back of his leg, but he dodges.

Oops, your eyes slightly widen, anticipating a fall. You lose your balance, nearly tripping - but luckily, Riki notices within a half of a second and catches you before your face plants flat on the ground, hoisting you back to his chest by the grip on your waist.

You were going to laugh at your mistake, your face already breaking into a smile - but your eyes catch someone a few feet away.

You blink. Your smile slowly starts to drop at the sight of him.

Of course, it had to be Yang Jungwon.

For a split second, your shock doesn’t allow your eyes to leave his. 

Riki snaps you out of it, releasing you from his grasp and guides you to his side as he slings his arm around your shoulder - like he always does. You’re sure Riki knew well enough and had an idea of how Jungwon looked like. He recognized him straight from the café, and you never questioned how he knew. How were you going to walk out of this one?

Riki doesn’t look at you in confirmation - you have no idea what shit he’s going to pull, but you’re sure as hell it isn’t going to be good.

He nods once in acknowledgement over at Jungwon, but Jungwon pays no mind and choses to ignore him as his eyes flicker onto the arm around you.

Riki notices it.

You don’t know what to do.

“Hey, I’m Riki,” he starts - and for some crazy reason, he sounds as if he was gloating, “who are you?” he throws back casually. Too casually. You would be irritated to talk to him, if you were in his place. The dislike in Jungwon’s features is evident enough. You don’t know what Riki was playing, but he extends his hand out for Jungwon to bro-shake, whatever that could even signify.

A long pause. Jungwon barely glances at it before his attention is back on you, ignoring him beside you as a whole. 

“Why are you with him?” he tries to casually question you - as if he was trying to create small talk - his voice is calm - but Jungwon’s eyes never lie. He could never hide anything from it. You knew that look, and you didn’t like it. It made your blood boil. The guts of this self-centered arrogant asshole. 

Riki answers in your stead, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to answer. He laughs, throwing his head back a bit, “Oh, don’t mind us,” he curtly replies, “my girl over here ‘s just really clumsy.”

You forgot how much of on asshole Nishimura Riki really is.

Riki effortlessly sighs, openheartedly shrugging as if to say ‘what-can-you-do?’. It was friendly, but you understood the underlying meaning. He was testing him. Picking at him. Provoking him. You wanted to facepalm. Provoking was the only thing he was ever good at, why did you even bother? What was this, some fighting-for-the-alpha-spot werewolf shit?

Nishimura Riki, you asshole! 

Jungwon understands the message. A muscle up on his clenched cheek twitches, his eyes slightly narrow. Was he threatened already? You were in a state of disbelief, Riki was barely even doing anything. Seriously. He never changes.

“Why are you with him?” he asks you again, this time his voice comes out somewhat strained in the end. The old Jungwon would’ve probably started a fight right then and there, lacking any sort of composure. Jungwon changed, hasn’t he?

But you have, too.

Riki peeks at you, “Babe? Do you know him?” Confused. Curious. Innocent.

You had to give it to him. Riki was an amazing actor, he could’ve fooled you if you didn’t know any better yourself. 

You merely glance at Jungwon, barely a pause before you answer, “No.”

No hesitation in your tone. A ‘no’ as if he was simply a stranger standing before you. Nothing. You observe how your answer hits Jungwon. How the simple word destructs him. You could only watch. Everything was different now. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?

But where was the sense of satisfaction?

You tug at Riki’s arm, “Let’s go, you promised me to bring me home today.” 

You leave Jungwon like that. You leave him with the uncomfortable feeling that was bubbling up. Riki is surprised. And confused. You don’t know if he’s still continuing the act when he affectionately waves Jungwon goodbye before immediately following after you.

Yang Jungwon strikes again.

.

.

.

You whacked Riki at the back of his head the moment you were as far from the gods-be-damned-scene and as far from Jungwon as possible, “Idiot!” you hissed, “What the hell was that?”

He rubs the back of his neck soothingly, glaring at you. “You know, just a little ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

“’Thank you’, my ass! I told you to not pull any stupid shit!” You threaten to hit him again, vexed at the stunt he pulled. The situation was only going to get worse from there and you couldn’t take back anything at this point. You retreated your arm, groaning in horror of what’s to come.

“The moment called for it!” was his only excuse.

You scowled at him, as if your eyes could annihilate him at the spot.

You got Jungwon, you had to admit. A few more of these blows and he would leave your sights. This was a bad idea, but your mind didn’t seem to pay any care. 

Hurt him.

Right then and there, your ego allows Riki to participate in whatever crazy-sick game this was. You just needed Jungwon far away.

Riki smirks at you and flashes you a winning smile. He knows you’ve agreed to his idea without having to say anything else. You had no other option, either way.

“You won’t regret this, ___. It’ll be fun!” he singsongs, draping his arm around you.

It’ll be fun, you echoed.

You’ve been lying to yourself for two years, what’s a couple days more to you?

.

.

.

THE NEXT DAY

Jungwon finds you asleep, leaning your head on the desk with your cheek pressed up against the table. 

And Nishimura Riki was by your side, reading gleefully. Mostly watching you sleep. A fucking weirdo, Jungwon inwardly comments. His stomach turns at the sight. His mood has already dried.

He stands there for what seems like a torture of infinity before Riki sees him there. He just grins at him. Jungwon would want to do nothing more but throttle him and that shit-eating look off his face.

“Here for the thesis paper?” was all he asks, he starts collecting himself and his things, preparing to leave, thankfully, Jungwon praises.

But when Riki decides to act like the biggest fucker to piss him off all the more when he leans in to gently tuck back the hair covering your face as as you sleep, Jungwon defensively takes a step forward to you by instinct, ready with a handful of swear words.

Riki notices it, and only press his index finger on his lips, indicating to keep his voice down. Jungwon’s jaw slightly ticks as he stays in place - not risking your sleep.

He pats Jungwon’s shoulder on his way out, but he stops by the door. He motions him closer, as if he were to tell him something hugely important. Jungwon presses his lips into a thin line, walking up to him and trying to keep it as civil as possible.

He holds up a finger, as if to gesture ‘and-one-more-thing’, “Oh, and tell her to keep the hoodie she’s wearing, will you?” 

Jungwon raises both brows in question, and instantly regrets it.

Riki further explains himself, "She likes stealing them from me. God knows she has a whole rack of them on her closet.” He shrugs, a growing smirk on his face. “But eh, I like it on her, it suits her better.”

That little shit.

He was about to give him a phony nod and thumbs up to let the whole agitating conversation over with when Riki presses his luck even further, “She’s pretty.”

God. Jungwon’s patience was running thin, his jaw flexes.

“Oh, and tell her -”

Jungwon nearly slams the door on his face.

He wondered what you saw in that guy.

Walking back with his hands stuffed in his pockets - something he does when he was definitely pissed off, he yanks a chair, face displaying irritation at its finest when he arrives back at your table. He doesn’t bother to spare you a glance your way, he knows you too well.

“I know you’re awake,” he says out of nowhere, his voice tight. “Stop pretending.”

It takes several moments before you start faking a yawn. You could easily fool anyone, but sadly for you, he knows you too well. His glance is blank as you outstretch your arms as if you had just woke up, you greet him as if you hadn’t expected to see him there, “Oh . . hey.”

Jungwon had already looked sour from his encounter with Riki, his pissed off gaze averts away from yours. A muscle from his jaw ticks as he huffs, “Your boyfriend left.”

You nod, blinking as if you were slowly trying to register everything. Jungwon wanted to ask you a flood of questions: what was he doing here? Were you already awake when he was being a creep and staring at you while you were ‘asleep’? Why are you wearing his hoodie -? “Okay.”

That aggravates him even more, and his tone turns curt and strained. “I’m going to work on the thesis. You do whatever.” he dismisses you, heaving a short breath.

He stalks off, but not before grimacing at your outfit up and down - more than fumingly horrified, spitting out through gritted teeth, “And take off that hoodie. It looks horrible on you.”

.

.

.

THE WEEK AFTER

You wake up in Monday morning with aching pins and needles, not being able to move an inch of your body. Your eyelids were too heavy to keep open, weighing tons of your effort.

Of all days, you were sick.

Lord.

Releasing a cough, your hand reaches for your ringing phone. Riki, the contact label name displayed. You try to clear your throat as you answer the call, in effort to not sound as sick as possible. “Hello?” your groggy and hoarse voice could be depicted from miles away by a total stranger. Much less Nishimura Riki.

“Princess?” His voice answers through the call, perceptibly worried, “what’s wrong? You sound . . . off today.” You could tell he was squinting as he said this.

“Uh. . .” you sniffed, trying to come up of a lie, “just watched a sad film. Cried a lot.”

Riki hums, giving no humor in his voice. “Mhm. And that’s why you’re late four hours to class?”

Your stomach lurches. You were what? You had classes today, and you didn’t even remember. Were you missing on anything important in university today? Shit.  

Racing for the most reasonable excuse, “I wanted to . . . enjoy a day off?” Bad liar. You were nothing but a bad liar. You were too exhausted to create a better and more creative lie.

Riki, being way too observant on things he shouldn’t be, clearly wasn’t buying it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m coming over. Don’t go anywhere. Stay in bed,” he orders you shortly before ending the call. He doesn’t scold you or lecture you, and he leaves it at that. 

You moan at the surge of pain once again located in your stomach, you had no plans of leaving the bed even if you wanted to anyway, given your current state.

.

.

.

Riki texts you that he was outside around less than ten minutes later.

If you could complain, you’d rather have Riki come in your room to help you up. Like he always did. You found him not doing so rather odd, as he would always make the weirdest reasons to come drop by your house. Moving the slightest inch was hard as it already was. 

It takes you what seems like hours for you to get out of bed, and even more for you to bag your bag and head outside. You were ready to grumble about how efficient and less painful this would’ve been if Riki had come to help you until more than one figure greets you outside your yard. 

Riki and . . . hands stuffed to his pockets, head bowed - you know that side profile -Yang Jungwon?

Both stayed at opposite ends, standing in front of their cars, awaiting for you with the hardest glares sent the other’s way. What was happening? Jungwon was most likely the reason Riki wasn’t able to go inside your house to pick you up. That was the only factor that made sense - the rest was something you couldn’t connect the dots of. 

Both their cars parked out of your house, and you could feel the tension slicing you in half the moment you step foot outside. These two could never stay in the same room, sticking around to wait for you was strictly meant for you.

Jungwon is the first to break the glaring match as soon as he sees you, being the first to approach you while gently holding you up. 

“Love, are you okay? Let me bring you to the hospital - come on,” he pleads with you, gesturing towards his car. 

“This isn’t the time to joke about something like this in her state,” Riki forces a fake smile through his gritted teeth, irritated as he sneaks his arm around your waist, holding you up himself all the better with a single hand, “just so you know.”

Jungwon’s gaze darkens, “It isn’t about fighting for who gets her, just so you know,” he mimics, “I don’t trust her with you, you dipshit.”

Riki scoffs to himself, shifting his weight as he continues to press you tightly against him, not budging an inch of you to Jungwon, “And look who came to talk.”

Jungwon opens his mouth, his eyes ruthlessly set on Riki’s before you try and weakly cut in from your lack of energy. However, your weak knees give up on you and you almost stumble down, not before both Jungwon and Riki reaches out their hand to grab your arm within half a second. Riki half-yells your name, all the more uneasy and concerned than you were.

“Y/N? Love? Are you okay?” Jungwon’s hostile tone towards Riki not seconds ago immediately dissipates, conveying his tone of worry and panic at your weak state.

“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Jungwon additionally suggests, trying to have you lean his weight on him for you to stand property, and in that way he could easily carry you back to his car.

“Hell no,” Riki growls, in the other hand.

You notice Jungwon’s eyes darken at the corner of your eye, “And who exactly are you to her to begin with-?”

“Her boyfriend, nice to meet you, you dipshit,” Riki retorts.

Jungwon lets out a low noise, pissed off at a topic that was seemingly sensitive to him. “Over my dead body would you ever be her boyfriend.”

He rolls his eyes in disinterest. “Still going through the stages of grief? Is this the denial stage?” he taunts, clicking his tongue with a tsk.

“Bo,” Jungwon calls you - candidly ignoring Riki’s shitty statements, but his sharp eyes never leave Riki’s, “let’s get this over with and tell us who would you want to -” 

This was getting too prolonged, you were so close to vomiting again. You definitely did not want to vomit here of all places. “Riki,” you called out faintly, interrupting Jungwon, “please take me to the hospital.” 

All parts of your body ached painfully, and you were too miserably ill to deal with this situation. You imagine Jungwon’s expression crumbling, deflating. 

Riki straightens, visibly surprised, but he doesn’t hesitate. Not before giving Jungwon a final look, he carries you with you gently, making sure you were watching your step as the both of you left the defeated Jungwon without another word. 

You were too weak to look back at Jungwon – he helplessly stares after the sight of his girl - his girl - being taken away from him when she needed help the most. 

Again.

.

.

.

You spend three days in the hospital for a diagnosed viral infection.

Thankfully but not surprisingly, Riki stayed by your side through every minute, only leaving for a shower, buying take-out, and for getting you new packs of clothes. It was Ningning and Seoyeon who came over to take care of you during Riki’s leave.

He sticked around from the moment you were submitted, to the insertion of the IV, through your countless trips to the bathroom to puke and for him to hold your hair back, and through your dischargement.

The both of you were on your way to the car to load your things. Riki had all of his hands filled. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot, thanks for the wanton noodles,” you mention immediately as soon as you remembered, “How d’you know they were my favorite?” You don’t recall ever brining it up to Riki.

Instead of bursting up his signature winning smirk, Riki furrows his brows at you, “Wanton noodles? What wanton noodles?”

You perked up a brow, “The one you left by the door earlier when you were paying the discharge bills?”

Riki had nothing. He blinks at you as if you had been hallucinating. “Why would I leave food by the door?” he shakes his head, “Doll, what in the hell are you talking about?”

“The wanton noodles that you –“ You stop mid-sentence, freezing. Realization dawns on you then. The note, you recall as you piece things back together.

Stop skipping meals. I got you your favorite. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.

Yang Jungwon.

There was no name from who it was from, you had simply assumed it was from Riki. This wasn’t your first time realizing that Jungwon had never dropped by, you had simply figured he didn’t care. Your stomach sinks, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me’. The double implications.

Riki waves his hand in front of your face, “Earth to princess? Hello?”

Ah. Right. You blink, shaking your head – you meet his eyes with a smile, “Nothing. I just thought I remembered something.”

.

.

.

WEEKS LATER

Jungwon was a lot quieter than usual ever since you’d been discharged.

Since . . . the night he and Riki were there. You slightly wince at the memory.

You almost managed to successfully spend a thesis discussion with him without having to say much - to your great pleasure - until he just had to ruin it for you. He was filling in his part for the thesis paper while you were scanning through the pages of the book you were reading, skipping to the ending.

“Hey,” he starts, humor laced in his voice. “D’you still read the endings of books like you used to? I remember –“

Your head snaps up. You don’t smile. You don’t flush red in embarrassment. You don’t laugh like the way he’d expected you to. The way you always did. You stared harshly down to his eyes. It wasn’t the heart-fluttering kind - nor was it the passionate or the fierce or the loving kind of stare. No, it was a heart-piercing glare - so full of pure hatred, the kind that had his breath hitching up his throat in the worst way possible and his heart sinking into your stomach.

“Don’t.”

Ah.

No double meanings. Nothing else. The essence couldn’t be taken as a mere mistakable, conveyed with just one simple word that held the heaviest weight, yet it was enough for him to understand. He doesn't try to catch himself or his smile as it fades - along with the antagonizing agony that accompanied it.

The light in your eyes has gone.

They were so dark.

It doesn’t shine the way it used to.

He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He struggles. It takes him two more tries. Two more times of you opening and closing his mouth for him to finally unknot his tongue and drag the words to the surface.

“You have a …” he hesitates to say it, “boyfriend?”

It was so close. A few seconds until you would leave, and he just could wait. Stuffing your university belongings back into your bag, you exhaled, your lips tightening into a hard line. “What is it to you?”

A second or two passes, “Oh,” he replies, “I didn’t know, so -”

“What difference does it make?” you rhetorically question him, your patience running thin, “if you didn’t know or if you did?” You were being absurd - you knew that, but you wanted anything but the idea of having to talk about that subject with him and act like it was fine. 

Being snappy at him wasn’t the greatest idea, but you know Jungwon was trying to get at somewhere. You would do whatever it took to defy him. That quiets him down, only forcing a painful nod.

You needed to leave. You couldn’t stay away from him, especially whenever he was near. God knows only a few words from Jungwon would be all it would take for him to manipulate you back into his strings.

Painful silence.

Until, “Does he make you happy?”

You find yourself freezing.

A sick feeling in your stomach.

Does he make you happy?

Happy.

Why was he asking the question like he meant it?

Your eyes flicker his way, and there is no hint of humor or taunting mock in his face. Was he serious? The man who broke you to pieces and disregarded you stood before you and asked if another man was making you happy, as if he cared. As if he ever did.

You don’t say anything.

You don’t have anything to say.

Jungwon knows that.

You try to breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

You walk away, and he lets you. You walk away because walking away was the only thing you’ve ever done. Because walking away was the only thing you could ever do around him. Because you can’t risk another goodbye from him.

You were done gnawing back at the past.

.

.

.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ spring day by bts ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

AFTER THE BREAK-UP

.

.

.

And the both of you became back to being nothing.

Just like that.

You told him your secrets, and you let him in. All the good, all the bad. You trusted him and brought down your defenses. You let him know your weird thoughts or funny inside jokes and the deep insecurities. 

But he never got to know the little things, you realize the moment it’s over. The little things that infuriated you. The little things that made you laugh. Or the little things that would always put you on a better mood - the little bits and pieces of you.

You barely got to know him at all.

Was that the reason?

Was the fact of loving him just as plainly as that - nothing more, and nothing less - the root of it all?

Or was it just the big things that held the both of you together, and the small things that caused you to fall apart?

.

.

.

You don’t believe it’s over.

Because it’s not.

You’ve been stuck inside the house for longer than you could count. You’ve memorized the number of tiles on the floor and seen every miniscule crack on the wall. You know how many steps it takes to walk from here to the door.

And you know just how many steps Jungwon took to leave.

Your eyes remained fixated on the door, waiting at the dining table for him to come home.

Like every other day.

He was still finding his way back home, you reminded yourself.

Busy. He’s busy.

Tick-tock.

He’s on his way.

He'll come back. He always does. He promised.

You form hundreds of thousands of excuses for him.

But the door doesn’t swing open to reveal Jungwon in all form and glory beaming down at you, apologizing, telling you that it was a mistake, telling you that he didn’t mean it. Every day is the same.

But nothing.

Nothing.

.

.

.

Riki knows it’s one of your days.

He reaches for your hand to grab and the fact that you have no response alone proves his assumption even further. 

He doesn’t mind, Riki decides to walk you home.

You have those days where you go completely silent. Worse than ever. So quiet that he could never guess what you’re thinking or if you’d ever come back from it. Eyes empty as if there was no one home. He doesn’t know how he could help you specifically, how he could make you snap out of it.

The only thing he can do is talk. Talk and talk and talk and talk. He talks for hours about anything on the top of his head, and Riki himself is surprised he could somehow manage to not run out of topics to tell you about. 

Even if you don’t respond. Not even a flicker of recognition to any of his comments or jokes.

Riki never knows what you’re thinking.

But this time, that day, he knows it’s about Jungwon.

Someone asked you about Jungwon today. How he was doing, where he is, and what happened to him. As hard as Riki would shield you away from situations such as these, it wasn’t hard enough.

Riki was so close to making you smile the other day. He was finally doing it.

And then he’s back again to square one.

After his efforts of trying to get your attention by the food stalls the both of you passed by, Riki starts to go quiet. 

There is no noise - nothing between the two of yoou. Only the rustling of leaves. The cool breeze of air. The sound of footsteps on cobblestone. Cars driving by. Indistinct chatters. 

“Why are you still holding on?” quietly. So quietly, but you easily catch on Riki’s question. Then your hands slightly tremble.

You don’t answer him, you’re afraid of saying too much. You’re afraid. 

He never said goodbye.

That was your reason.

He never said goodbye.

Jungwon always bids you goodbye, you’d explain to Riki if you could.

What makes this time any different, right?

He won’t leave without saying goodbye. He wouldn’t. Only you could understand.

He never said goodbye.

A part of you still believed that meant he was coming back.

.

.

.

When Riki tries dropping by like any other day - a sneaky reason to check on you, from the start of early morning, he sees you there. 

You spend the whole day stuck in the kitchen.

Riki knows what day it was without having to ask.

By the evening, you bring out the cake that you’ve been preparing for and set it down the table, in front of an empty chair. The chair you never let anyone sit on. It’s still belonged to someone else. 

Riki knows who it’s for.

Your eyes are distant, as if they were caught up in a dream. Light. You were there - physically, but you were far away. Far, far away. Riki started to wonder if this was just how you were. He wondered if there was ever a time where you were really alive. 

He wondered the extent to how much this guy did to break you. 

Your eyes looked so empty.

But you were still holding on, weren’t you? You’ve never responded to him, but he knew. Riki made no noise, but he clenches his hands into fists. You don’t acknowledge him standing there.

You set the candles down the cake with the lighter.

You only stare at the cake, expectantly. Waiting. Waiting for someone to blow the candles off. Waiting to sing the cheerful ‘happy birthday’ song and make a wish. But it wasn’t just anyone. 

He doesn’t attempt to do anything - or say anything. But he stands near close to your proximity. Watching over. Silently. He doesn’t leave you that day. 

You take a seat next to the empty chair, simply and patiently letting time pass as your eyes affixed themselves with the dancing fire.

Until the candles blow out themselves hours later from the cold air. 

That night, Riki also knew who it was for when he heard your uncontrolled crying and broken whimpers pass from your room for the first time.

.

.

.

There was a period wherein you stopped leaving the house entirely. And Riki stopped pushing you to.

Everything reminds you of him.

The house has never felt so big.

Alone.

You miss the way he smells.

The overbearing feelings starts to compress, and you feel it expanding within your chest. It gets hard to breathe. You feel helpless.

Jungwon won’t like it if he sees you like this, wouldn’t he?

You keep reminding yourself.

He might come in any second, and you wanted to be at your best.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry.

You won’t cry.

You’d make it up to him.

You don’t want it to end.

He’ll come back.

He’ll come back.

.

.

.

You don’t know how many months it has been.

That’s a lie. You do.

You find one of the notes he wrote for you in an old shoe box.

It reminds you that what you had was real, that what you had wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It wasn’t a dream. 

You picked up the first letter, your fingers tracing through his handwriting.

It was painful. A shard of glass piercing through your skin.

To my one and only girl,

You couldn’t breathe.

It was merely the first line of the long letter, and you couldn’t breathe.

This time, you don’t pretend to forget that you aren’t Jungwon’s anymore. You don’t pretend that this was all a phase. A nightmare. A joke. 

This time, you don’t pretend to wait at the living room for him to come back home, swinging the door open with a grin and greeting you from a long day like he used to. Not anymore. Even if you had so much to tell him. So much news to show off to him. So much news to be happy for. To celebrate. But you weren’t.

This time, you almost suffocate.

You torture yourself even more this time. You open the letter again and it rips your heart out. It stabs you and leaves you bleeding. You read the last line. Sealed with a promise. A broken promise that meant nothing now. 

I’ll make you the happiest girl, I promise. I love you :)

You could imagine his cheeky smile as he wrote this, sealing the promise - among with every other one that he’s made. Every single one that he didn’t claim responsibility for. 

Liar.

He was a liar.

He was reckless and a liar.

He broke you to the point where you couldn’t even manage to bring yourself to say his name.

You wish you were brave enough.

What a fool you were.

A dumb, useless fool.

.

.

.

“Kant’s metaphysics?” Riki answers, lying on the edge of your bed. He lounges carelessly with a review paper clutched on his left hand. 

You rest a hand on your hip, pacing around your room. “No, but you’re somewhat close. It’s categorical imperative.” You corrected, recalling your philosophy lesson by memory through mentally singing a tune to yourself. 

 The philosophy oral examination was this coming Thursday that next week. It was Saturday. Riki complained, saying he needed help and tutoring, and you, other than staying cooped up at home debating your life choices and burying yourself in academics, there wasn’t really anything else you did. 

He squints his eyes in confusion, “But how does that relate to the second follow up question after that?” you pause, staring hard at the desk beside you to remember the answer, you take minutes - but nothing.

You run a hand through your hair, visibly frustrated and stressed. You had all the more topics to go through. Hell, you had to go through the whole book and you couldn’t get past the second lesson yet.

Releasing an exhale, you shut your eyes tightly. Shit. Shit. 

Jungwon always knew what to do. He knew how to calm you down and rile you up and make you laugh right after like he was born with it. He’d drop everything at the sight of you overthinking and over-stressing school work, embracing you and telling you that you didn’t have to worry. That he was there. He’d let you cry it out, vent out your frustration and stay by your side through it all, running a hand through your hair soothingly to comfort you.

He knew exactly how to take care of you. 

You need him.

You needed him.

Just for this moment.

How much longer?

Biting down your lower lip forcefully, you chant the words over and over again. 

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

You know he’s not coming back. 

You know.

You’re back to pacing across your room, back and fourth. ‘”I don’t know, I really -” you cut yourself off, irritated. At this point, you’re ready to erupt from the heavy weight of his absence. At this point, you want to drop to the floor and stop time to give yourself a breath. 

Riki has sat up at this point, silently watching you. He’s probably either thinking that you were worrying and stressing over the amount of workload given to you like the usual. Or, does he know that academics isn’t what you were worrying about at all at that moment?

You try to level your breathing.

Come back.

Jungwon, please.

Come back to me.

.

.

.

To: won 😚🙄

[03:46am] you: hi i’m graduating this wednesday. i’d really like it if you could drop by. 

error. message undelivered. try again?

[03:50am] you: hey did you know my graduation is nearing?? haha you should come :)

error. message undelivered. try again?

[05:18am] you: jungwon

[05:18am] you: are you there?

[05:19am] you: you’re gone and i really need you.

message sent.

do you want to delete this message? 

message successfully deleted.

Contact user: [ENTER] 

Contact: yang jungwon

by pressing [Confirm] you are allowing the name changes to be saved.

changes saved.

.

.

.

“The sun’s so clear out. Lighten up, princess ~” a voice calls you out of your thoughts and you realize you were trapped in a dream.

Identifying reality with dreams seemed entirely difficult to you. There was something fiction in the way reality was going to you.

Reality was as crazy as dreams were.

“Your moping is bad for my skin,” Riki comments lightheartedly, scrunching up his nose.

It’s been a week or so since he came along. Since he bumped into you and started to grow interest towards you. You don’t ask him, and you don’t really care. Nothing that every happens around you matters to you as much anymore.

You only blink in regard to him. That was more than a sign of acknowledging his presence that he was used to.

Riki is used to this. He doesn’t mid this type of behavior, nor did he expect anything else. He self-proclaimed himself as your guardian angel – two days after he’d met you – who’d look after you “since you lack the ability to look after yourself” end quote. Which was true. You couldn’t look after yourself. Especially due to the past circumstances that he pieced together himself.

You were probably someone’s ex-girlfriend.

To him, Y/N was a detached-from-reality schoolmate of his who was definitely more than what meets the eye.

You were someone he wanted to get to know, until you stopped becoming that person, one day.

Until you became someone he wanted to protect.

Sliding himself into the seat next to yours, he pouts at you. “Y’know . . . I think it’s time for you to . . move on,” he struggles finding the right word for it. You know it takes a lot in him to try and be gentle, as he probably would’ve been teasing you with a bunch of insults.

Your throat encloses, and you feel like burning up.

Moving on meant accepting that he was gone. Gone from your life. Accepting a future without him, and that wasn’t something you were ever going to be ready to do.

He was long gone.

Jungwon was long gone.

The magic you once felt with him wasn’t there anymore.

He wasn’t there anymore.

And neither were you.

Waiting for someone is painful.

Letting go from someone is painful, too.

But not knowing whether to wait for someone or let him go?

It hurts more than anything.

.

.

.

You were out inside the bathroom for the first time in hours since you’ve left your seat from blankly staring at your phone.

It was all pure coincidence when Nishimura Rik stumbles upon the open phone screen that you’ve been torturing yourself endlessly with.

It was all pure coincidence.

And coincidence just happened to align with his curiosity. 

you: S.O.S. [7 hours ago]

you: come back [7 hours ago]

[Read]

Riki doesn’t have to read the contact name to see who it was.

.

.

.

It must be Riki’s professional job; being the only one around able to spot where you are when you suddenly disappear from the face of the earth.

“Princess?” Riki finally finds you along the benches, alone. He figures it weird, he’s not exactly sure what you were doing there exactly.

Until he sees your face. Your tear-stained cheeks.

Ah.

“It hurts.” Out of nowhere. He has never prepared himself for this. Your voice cracks a bit, “Riki, it hurts.” You plead with him as if he power to take it all away. Small. Helpless. That was what you sounded like.

He offers his open arms to you, and you bury yourself in them. He lifts you up from the darkness, even if it was just by a centimeter.

“I’m in so much pain, can you stop it?” you tell him in a managed whisper, your voice hoarse.

He’s afraid anything he’d say would only break you even further. He only hugs you tighter.

Fuck, why did he give too many shits about you? This wasn’t the least like him at all. What in the world have you managed to do to Nishimura Riki? He stares at you, not being able to do anything.

“Why does it hurt so much?” a small vulnerable child whimpering in pain – pain they were forced to believe was their fault. That was how you sounded. 

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s frozen, in fact. “Riki I want to –“ you pause, trying to start again, “I’m tired,” you struggle with your words, your eyes closed shut, “Please make it stop.”

His eyes flicker.

Please make it stop.

Riki isn’t much of a person who really cared about anyone else’s business. He never poked his nose around because he never bothered enough to. Everyone was black and white to him.

You were a quite peculiar one to him, though. It drove him crazy, what was so good about you? You were clearly dead hungover your past ex. Barely talked. Barely did anything, at all. 

But he saw the most beautiful and vibrant colors when he looked at you in the whole life that he’s been walking around colorblind to any other.

He was just being pulled down deeper.

For the first time, all Riki wanted from someone was just their happiness. Purely. Passionately. Their happiness for his happiness. He just wanted you . . .

He just wanted you.

Nishimura Riki is done for.

If this was what he thinks it is, he’s done for. Because Riki was ready to be anyone you wanted him to be.

You gave be something I’ve never had, he wants to tell you. And I have nothing special to give you - but I will give you everything I have.

He doesn’t break promises. Especially if it’s you.

Riki will mend what was broken.

Whatever it takes.

One step at a time.

He was getting himself into the biggest mistake in his life, God, he sure as hell knew that. But Riki was never going to regret what was to come.

He was going to make it stop. All of it.

.

.

.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

PART TWO

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Part 2

Eyeless Jack x Reader (NSFW)

Part 1

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss tysm darling, I really appreciate the support <333

I've given it a title so therefore, I have officially made it a ✨thing✨ The outline has 6 parts rn, but I'm far from done~

AND once I finish Dirty Little Secret on my patreon, I'm thinking I'll rewrite this series but in like,, the reader's POV. So anyways, all that to say I've very much been enjoying this and I'm excited to keep it going uwu 💕💞💓

I've also been having some formatting issues on this one, for some reason?? I tried fixing it up but please lmk if there's anything off AND lmk if you enjoyed <3

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Join my Patreon if you’d like to support me <3

Masterlist: x

It comes as no surprise when he ends up in bed, hard dick in his hand, thinking of you for the god-knows-how-many-th time

Try as he might to fervently rut into his clenched fist, he knows no feeling would ever compare to you bouncing on his cock instead

The taste of you on his tongue had dissipated much too quickly, but that doesn’t stop him from desperately trying to reimagine your arousal on his lips

He grunts, his hips grinding up, cock tensing and twitching in his hold

It’s torturous

He needs you

Precum beads up at his tip, and all he can think about is the way you’d lap it up with your tongue

Friends

Every time he imagines all the ways he could fuck you senseless, the word friends interrupts his fantasy

Really, he knows what he’s doing is wrong

He shouldn’t be having such depraved thoughts about someone who doesn’t want anything to do with him beyond friendship

But he can’t help it

You drive him wild

The sounds of your pretty little moans and whimpers are stuck on repeat in his head

The way your body writhed in his touch, the way your perfectly wet cunt tightened around his tongue—everything about you gets him drunk with lust

His room feels unbearably hot

Try as he might to relieve the throbbing ache of his stiff cock, it’s no use

He can’t be satisfied without you

And he realizes, fuck, you’ve triggered a heat

The next few days are absolute hell

He’s on and off his heat

Every time it’s on the cusp of dissipating, his thoughts scramble back to you, and it starts all over again

He waits at least a week before leaving his room—just to be sure seeing you won’t jeopardize anything

And it’s only a day or two after he leaves his room that he runs into you again

It’s an early morning, with pale sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows

You’re at the table, sipping on a coffee, and a few other creeps are scattered about the dining room and kitchen

He doesn’t know whether he should be irritated or grateful that there are other people around

Probably the latter, considering he wouldn’t know how to act if it was just the two of you

But it’s hard to feel grateful when Jeff decides to take a seat right next to you

And god, does he ever hate the way that guy looks at you sometimes

He debates staying or going as he makes his coffee

Staying might aggravate him if he notices Jeff trying to pull any moves on you

But on the other hand, leaving might risk something developing between you and Jeff

The more he can interfere between you and other potential suitors, the better

He can’t let anyone else have you

So even though he’s, admittedly, being childish when he takes the other open spot next to you, he tries to play it off like it’s nothing

Like he hasn’t been jerking off to the thought of you for the past week

You don’t seem to notice, but Jack doesn’t miss the way Jeff glares at him when he sits

Try me, Jack wants to say

Jeff huffs out a breath when he realizes the hybrid won’t back off

And the sheer audacity of that guy—thinking he can just waltz up to you and have you all to himself—it unlocks something primal within Jack

“What’s wrong?”

Your voice, as angelic as ever, suddenly breaks the mounting tension in the room

Jack feels like a filthy perv when the first thing that comes to mind is all those pretty sounds you made when you came against his mouth

He just wants to fuck more of those precious sounds out of you

Deep breaths, deep breaths

“What? What do you mean what’s wrong?” Jeff answers your question with his own, trying to act dumb

And thankfully, the grating sound of his voice is enough to snap Jack out of his fantasy

“Why do you look so aggravated all of a sudden?” you ask, your tone lighthearted and joking as you sip your coffee

“Yeah, Jeff, is something wrong?”

Jack tries to keep his voice as genuine as possible when he backs you up, but he knows Jeff is fully aware of the cocky grin he’s wearing beneath his mask

And he has to suppress a snicker when the guy glowers at him

“Just… life,” Jeff haphazardly grumbles, not wanting to admit Jack’s ruined the alone time he wanted with you

A cruel joke comes to the demon’s mind

It’s dumb and immature, and he knows he shouldn’t say it, but he wants to say it

So, he does

“Oh,” he hums, “is it that problem you’ve mentioned to me before?”

Jeff’s eyes meet his, brow arching

“What problem?” he asks, taking the bait

“You know,” Jack continues, trying to act as natural as possible, “that issue you’ve been having. I told you, you might need to change your diet. More fiber would help you become more regular…”

His chest practically swells with pride when you snort out a laugh

“Oh my god, is that what it is?”

You burst out laughing even harder at the expression on Jeff’s face

“The fuck!? That’s not even true! Why would you say that—what the fuck is your problem, man?!”

He can try to say whatever he wants, but it’s no use; he knows Jack’s gotten the best of him

With an angry snort, he stands

“Whatever, I’m over this,” he growls

And just like that, he walks away, leaving you and a very self-satisfied Jack alone at the table

He finally has you all to himself

Well, minus the creeps coming in and out for coffee and breakfast

But at least none of them seem particularly interested in you

Not in the way Jeff seemed to be, anyways

“Christ, he’s so dramatic,” you chuckle, shaking your head with a smile on your lips

There are suddenly butterflies in Jack’s stomach

God, you’re so fucking cute

“Was that even true?”

You look at him when you ask the question, and he almost forgets how to breathe for a minute

He shrugs, hoping you don’t notice the effect you have on him

“If he’s constipated? I mean, I don’t know if I should say anything about it. Seems like he’s embarrassed about it…”

You shake your head with a snicker

He wants to kiss you

Fuck, he really, really wants to kiss you right now

Crash his lips into yours until he’s all you can think about

He wants to wrap your legs around him, slam your back against the table and make out with you until you’re a pretty little dazed mess beneath him

Blood rushes to his junk

He shifts in place, trying to ignore it

Friends

As unwanted as ever, he’s reminded of that fucking word again

But even despite it, he isn’t entirely sure where the two of you stand

Hell—he’s more uncertain than ever

Did you really want to forget that whole thing happened in the first place?

Go about things like normal—as if he hadn’t buried his face between your thighs?

As if you hadn’t pulled his hair and whimpered his name when you came against his lips?

He takes a sip of his coffee in a vain attempt to distract himself

But it’s hard to think straight when his dick keeps throbbing for attention

He quietly clears his throats, as if that could help anything, and he shifts in place again, subtly trying to readjust himself in his grey sweats

It’s only when his knuckles accidentally graze your bare thigh, only when he hears your quiet little gasp, that he freezes in place

The sound was barely audible, but he knows what he heard

He glances down, and he almost groans out loud when he notices what you’re wearing

It’s those same fucking shorts

He’s at a loss for what to do

The both of you are in the middle of the kitchen dining room—for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be having half the thoughts he’s having right now

But even then, he can’t bring himself to pull his hand away from your thigh

The minimal amount of skin-on-skin contact is making his head spin

He needs more

He’s never felt so insatiable

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist stroking at your leg

The motion is slow, soft, calculated, so that he can enjoy every inch of your perfect skin

Neither of you move as he gently traces over your thigh with the back of his knuckles

His chest is pounding

He can hear your heart beating, your breath hitching in your throat whenever he gets closer to the edges of your shorts

He wants you

God, does he ever want you

That pesky word keeps coming to mind again, but he forces himself to forget about it

For now—at the very least

You don’t make a move to stop him

You almost seem to welcome his touch

But that uncertainty is still there

Which is why he takes things unbearably slowly when he moves his hand between your legs to grasp at the flesh of your inner thighs

You make what sounds like a quiet whimper

And the sound goes right to his cock

As if a whole week of jerking off to you wasn’t enough

Inch by inch, his touch dances further up along your thigh

And though it’s subtle, he can’t not notice the way you part your legs just the slightest bit more for him

You’re giving him permission to touch you—right here, right now—of all places?

He breathes in, and when he gets a whiff of your scent, he decides fuck it, there’s no way he can let this opportunity slip him by

So under the cover of the table, even despite the few creeps still lingering about, he pushes past the material of your shorts to access your sex

You’re wet

You’re already turned on for him—he can feel it through your underwear

Screw anyone around to see, he wants to bend you over this table right now and fuck his cum inside you

He wants to breed you and mark you and make sure everyone knows by the sounds of your screams that you’re all fucking his

He strokes your slit up and down through your panties, and he adores the way it has you squirming in place

Fuck, you’re so cute

He wants to ruin you

But he also wants to enjoy every second of this

So he takes his sweet, sweet time running his fingers along your covered sex until he can feel you getting wetter and wetter

It isn’t long for you to thoroughly soak through your panties

And all he wants is to taste you all over again

He swallows down a growl at the thought

His body’s burning for yours

You keep squirming and quietly gasping as he teases you

And he’s so entranced by you, he nearly forgets you’re in an open room

All he can focus on is the way your body’s reacting to him

Whatever delicate threads of control he’s still grasping onto feel like they’re slipping from his hold

When you whine his name out, so cute and desperate and needy for him, it’s all the approval he needs

He pushes your underwear to the side and runs his fingers up and down your slit

The way your arousal gathers on the pads of his fingers almost makes him lose it

He just wants to pull you into his lap and fuck up into you until you’re gushing around his cock

But somehow, he manages to hold himself back

He teases at your clit very, very briefly, before then slowly sinking two digits into your opening

His chest rumbles with an involuntary groan as he immediately feels you clench around him

You bite back a moan, but he can still hear the way you sigh at the feeling

You’re so wet, so perfectly tight around him

He imagines how good you’d feel wrapped around his dick

You shift in place, breathing his name out in a shaky moan, and it’s a miracle he still has the self-control to not screw your brains out yet

He’s about to suggest taking things to your room when Hoodie walks in and locks eyes with you

If Jack were any more coherent beyond his lust, he’d probably pull his hand out of your pants

But he’s beyond giving a shit at this point

The proxy pauses, almost curiously, and instead of going for the fridge or pantry, or wherever he was going to go, he makes his way towards you

Jack feels you stiffen

You clench around his fingers, your breathing uneven

He knows he should stop

But he’s not done enjoying the warmth of your tight cunt fluttering around him

And so what if Hoodie notices?

At least then, he’d know who you belong to

The demon is entirely aware he’s being selfish

But he can’t bring himself to care

He’s too far gone

So even as he watches Hoodie greet you, even as he watches you, dazed and horny and sex-drunk off his fingers, struggling to greet the proxy normally, he doesn’t pull away

Let him know

Let him know who you’re allowing to do such depraved things to you

“(Y/n), you missed our training session this morning,” Hoodie says, and a bout of anger flares up in Jack’s chest

Oh how he loathes the thought of another man getting physical with you

It makes him curl his fingers inside you to reach right up against a spot that has you cinching around him

You squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip briefly before you can recover

“Y-yeah, uhm, sorry about that”

Your voice is shaky, your face visibly flushed

But you haven’t even tried to stop Jack yet

You want this as much as he does

“I, ah, I meant to let you know, but I—I forgot… to mention it”

In and out, the hybrid painstakingly slowly pumps his fingers inside your velvety walls as you try to talk normally

He flattens his palm against your clit, and your hips buck against his touch, which you quickly try to pass off as shifting in your seat

“Hm, that’s alright,” the proxy hums, then tilts his head curiously. “Is it because you weren’t feeling well? You look kind of… off”

Jack stiffens as the man reaches out to press his hand against your cheek

It’s just to check if you’re feverish, the logical part of him knows that, but the irrational part of him despises that he’s just laid a finger on you

A warning growl emanates out of his chest—low enough that it seems to slip Hoodie’s attention, but loud enough that you seem to notice it

You’re his—what’s not to fucking understand?

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just… ah, j-just didn’t sleep too well—“

Something like a choked moan evades you again, and you have to pretend to cough to avoid suspicion

Jack grinds his hand against your clit, and your whole body reacts to his touch

“S’alright,” the demon hums, and he briefly wonders if Hoodie notices the unusually husky timber of his voice when he does, “she might have the flu, but I’m checking up on it. She should be fine, nothing serious”

You squirm, and he teases at your sweet spot again, the calloused pads of his fingers rubbing right where you need it most

You can’t look Hoodie in the eyes as your thighs start trembling

Your hand looks unsteady as you bring the coffee to your lips, but you manage to drink it down without spilling anything

The proxy glances between you and Jack, and Jack wonders if he’s caught on yet

Either way, if he has, he doesn’t show it

“Well, alright, I hope you feel better soon. Let me know when you want to train next time”

You nod, humming to hide another whimper as Jack’s fingers don’t relent

And then finally, finally, Hoodie leaves

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jack crams his fingers into your inviting heat in a slew of rough thrusts

You gasp, almost moaning out very loudly before you manage to cover your mouth to muffle it

It doesn’t take long for you to cum around his digits

And god, you’re breath-taking as you do so

Your back arches, body tensing as your teeth bite down hard into your lips to prevent a scream from escaping

How he wishes those were his teeth biting into you instead

And just like that first time he made you cum, he can’t seem to bring himself to stop

It’s only when you’re shaking from the overstimulation, only when you reach out to pull his hand away, that he finally relents

His fingers are dripping with your arousal

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist bringing them up to his mouth to taste you off his digits

And fuck, you taste just as good as you did the first time

You’re panting, chest heaving, a perfectly unfocused look in your eyes

He wants to pick you up, take you to the nearest bedroom and fuck you stupid

Friends, fuck-buddies, potential partners—he doesn’t know where the two of you stand

But at this point, labels don’t matter, he thinks, not really, anyways

He’s not letting anything come between the two of you

You're his

[fordohyon]

BEAR MASCOT...

PAIRING -

Kim Woonhak x GN! Reader

SUMMARY - (not really s summary but a preview(ish) thingy??)

You sigh as you remove the heavy mascots head, a cool breeze from a fan chilling your flushed cheeks. You notice one of the basketball players standing behind you. Number 23. "I never knew you were a girl," he comments. "Or pretty."

TAGS -

fluff, fluff, and…. fluff!!

WARNING(s) -

mistaking reader for a girl, calling reader pretty, Mutual pining? maybe being too short. English isn’t my first language so please expect grammatical & spelling errors 😭

lmk if i left out anything,, Not proofread!

WORD COUNT - 1.3k

A/N - should i make this into a series??? also plz tell me if there are any grammatical errors or what. I'd also really appreciate it if you give me feedback and reblog!!

It's been precisely two hours since you donned the bear mascot outfit representing your school. You only agreed to do it because no one else volunteered and thought it might be fun. However, the experience has been anything but fun. With only 30 to 40 minutes left in the costume, you are counting down the seconds until you can take it off.

The basketball jersey, hat, and shoes the bear is wearing are decorated with your school's logo, with the school's signature colors of yellow and green accenting the trim, number, and player names. You are thankful that nobody from other sections knows it's you inside the costume; otherwise, you would feel incredibly embarrassed.

You check the time and realize that 20 minutes have already passed. You hope the game will end in the next 10 minutes or so. A few students request a picture with you, and you oblige them. Five more minutes pass, and the game is nearly over. You can’t wait to get out of the mascot outfit and take a shower.

Sweat drips down to your ankles, causing you to shiver. This is the longest you have ever worn the mascot, 2 hours and 10 minutes.

After what had seemed about an eternity, the game finally finished. All of the players and spectators collected their belongings and fled. Except for a handful who freshened up or spent time with their friends prior to heading home, unfortunately for you, Kim Woonhak happened to be one of those individuals, for whom you were growing feelings.

Once everyone had left, you finally had the chance to rid of the ludicrous costume that had caused you to sweat profusely. Though you noticed a few lingering figures in the vicinity, you chose not to approach them, assuming they were likely teachers, janitors, or guards. As you removed the mascot's head, a cool breeze struck your face. you were taken aback to find Kim fucking Woonhak standing there, his jaw dropping and eyes bulging in what appeared to be an utter shock - as though he had just witnessed the most unbelievable thing in his life.  "I... I never knew you were a girl, or uhm.. uhh... pretty!" Holy shit. This is extremely mortifying. You can't even begin to express the depths of humiliation you're feeling. The fact that it involves Kim Woonhak, the person you've had the most obvious crush on since sixth grade, makes it incredibly, excruciatingly, so intensely humiliating. Is it just you or does it seem like the fan isn't working? 

"Thank... you?" The words slipped out of your mouth, your voice wavering with uncertainty. As you fidgeted with the bottom half of the mascot, your hands betrayed your nervousness. The expression on your face told the whole story - a mix of embarrassment, anxiety, and the discomfort of being caught off guard. Sweat trickled down your forehead, emphasizing the redness that flushed your face, a combination of the stifling heat and the overwhelming humiliation of the moment. Woonhak's unexpected presence only intensified your unease, leaving you at a loss for words. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I-I was just checking if anyone was here since I was uh, gonna lock up the.. uhm... gym!" Woonhak stammered, his apology filled with genuine concern. He tried his best to shed the awkward tension that enveloped the air but fell short in his attempt.

"It's alright. No need to apologize," you reassured him, your voice trembling slightly. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here either. I assumed it was just teachers and guardians. Guess we both got caught off guard." You utter as you took hold of the lower half of the costume, a sudden chill in the air sent a shiver down your spine. The contrast between the hot and humid gym and the cooler surroundings intensified the discomfort, further adding to the already awkward situation.   

Woonhak nodded in agreement, his eyes still fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel self-conscious. You tried to disregard it, but the emotion only grew stronger. You wished you could just evaporate- or at least get out of this sweaty, reeking costume.

As you struggled to remove the rest of the bear suit, Woonhak stepped forward to help. You were grateful for the gesture, but it only caused you to feel more exposed and vulnerable. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your hands were quivering so badly that you could barely get a hold of the zipper.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, you were unburdened by the costume. You took a deep breath of fresh air and felt the calm draft wash over your sweaty skin. You turned to thank Woonhak, but he was already walking away, his head down and his hands playing with the fabric of his jersey.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you couldn't blame him for wanting to get away from the awkward situation. You gathered your things and headed out of the gym, feeling fatigued and embarrassed. you couldn't help but replay the uncomfortable encounter in your head, wondering if things would ever be the same between you and Woonhak.

As you make your way out of the gym, you notice Woonhak and his group of friends looking at you. Just as you try to avoid their gaze, he rides up to you on his bike, beckoning you to join him. "It'll be faster if you ride with me. Don't forget to take a warm shower, wouldn't want you to catch a cold. I want to see you tomorrow!" His words catch you off guard, and you can't help but feel a mix of confusion and excitement.

Up close, Woonhak looks even better than you remembered. His endearing smile and delicate demeanor make him seem like a big teddy bear. You hesitate for a moment, recalling the events that happened earlier, but ultimately agree to ride with him. "Uh, okay," you reply, your voice tinged with nervousness. Despite your uneasiness, you're grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with him.

As Woonhak makes his way down the road on his bike, he suddenly turns to you. "Hug me, so you don't fall." he says with a smile. You're surprised by his proposal, but you don't hesitate to envelop your arms around him. As you hold on to him tightly, you feel a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you. It's as if all of your nervousness vanished at that moment, and you can't help but feel grateful for his presence. Being in his arms feels like a dream come true, and you can't help but wonder if this is the start of something special.

As you ride on his bicycle, you can't help but feel a sense of security and contentment. The wind rushes through your hair, and the relaxed breeze washes over your skin. You feel alive and free, and for the first time in a long while, Woonhak's company is enough to make you feel safe.

As you reach your destination, you shift to thank Woonhak for the ride. But before you can say anything, he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. You feel your face flush with warmth, and your heart races with excitement. You can't believe that this is happening to you - it's like something out of romance fiction.

"Thanks for the ride," you murmur, your voice barely audible. Woonhak beams at you, and you feel a sense of belonging wash over you. Maybe this is the start of something special, something you've been yearning for all your life. As you make your way back home, you can't help but let out a squeal of excitement. You're grateful for the unexpected turn of events, and you can't wait to see what the future holds. But for now, you're content just being in the moment with the person who makes your heart skip a beat.

do not translate, repost on other websites, or take my work. posts on tumblr, stay on tumblr. I do not cross-post my work unless I say so!

[nicolesainz]

Pretty cute, if you ask me (LN 4)

Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: extreme fluff

Special dedication @freedaxf1 !! I hope you like it. This one’s for ya! If you have any other requests lmk. Love you!

Summary: Hints everywhere. Cheeks flushed and heart beating. Everyone has picked up on your feelings towards Lando, but do they know the truth yet?

“I sometimes regret having you around. I enjoy my peace and quiet during the weekends” I let out a defeated sigh as I remove my headsets.

“You only enjoy it because you get to be alone with mister McLaren” Fertwell comments as he nudges me playfully.

“Truly wrong judgement here, Max. Try again maybe” i roll my eyes

“Oh no she’s lying. They are both attached to each other, I still don’t understand how he managed to even do a few proper laps during free practices” the former McLaren driver, Daniel Ricciardo, adds, fueling the interest of my other friends.

“We should definitely attend the races more often. We are being excluded from the best moments” Ria smirks lustily at me, making my cheeks flush

“It’s the first time I’ve head a driver sing so much during free practices on the radio to his friend. He’s the only one who’s done it and probably will continue to be” the Australian drops another hint, sparks amongst the group being lighten.

“Since Y/N, refuses to tell us the truth, please Daniel, give us more details. What is my adorable baby sis doing around Norris, when we aren’t in sight” my older sister almost begs ex McLaren driver to be a inside source.

“There’s nothing to say for the love of god!” I shout at the same time as the mechanics work on Oscar’s car, getting it ready for another session.

“It will be the first time I’ll believe anyone else but you sis, sorry!”

“How do you explain the multiple pictures and stories then? Your gallery has more pictures of Lando than anyone else!” Daniel keeps pushing my buttons as if he’s doing it on purpose, which he is

“That’s not true! I just like to share things.” I shrug my shoulders as Max scrolls through his phone and shoves it on my face

“It’s the 5th story you’ve posted with Lando this week. I’m not buying it, Y/N”

“I don’t get why I have to alert you about anything that happens in my life”

that’s wrong! I tell them everything that happens in my life. Everything except one thing.

“Fine! Don’t tell us. I’ll ask Oscar. Rookie will be too much under pressure not to blurt anything.” My sister is almost threatening me to the point it scares

“And what if he doesn’t? You’ll go to Zak? Or his race engineer? They say curiosity killed the cat!”

I’m trying to hide the fact that nervousness runs through my entire body. Oscar is easily persuaded and knowing my sister, he’ll tell her whatever she desires to find.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen that Ma-“ I grab Oscar’s arm and move us somewhere farther away from my friends who were now occupied talking to Daniel.

“No need to be aggressive. Are you alright?” The new Aussie asked me, worried about my anxious presence.

“If my sister asks you anything about Lando, I beg you to not say anything. Even if she bribes you.”

“I wasn’t planning on saying anything but sure! I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you! You’re the best” I give him a quick hug before letting him go and running off to the group I left behind

As I was approaching them, I saw Lando moving towards them as well. Oh fuck.

“Hey guys, hey baby” he welcomes everyone and lands a soft kiss on my cheek, while wrapping his arm around my waist. I could feel my whole face turning red

“I KNEW IT!” My sister exclaims loudly

“You’re a very bad liar Y/N” Max continues

“Hey, leave my girlfriend alone. She’s a shy one” Lando bites back playfully and gives me the sweetest look of comfort.

“Now you know why I post about Lando regularly. And why I want my peace.”

“Yeah, I will agree to the second one. Someone had forgotten their mic on and I could hear the whole conversation. Try to be more discreet next time” Lando tries to hold back a laugh, as a look of horror covers my whole face to the idea that everyone could have heard this

“Aww, don’t worry love. I only heard it. No one else. Our little secret is safe. Also I found it pretty cute if you ask me”

[borahaerhy]

BTS While High - Headcanons

While my inbox is filled with unwritten requests and the latest chapter of my WIP is in dire need of some heavy editing, I decided the best use of my time is to write my headcanons for the members after smoking some devil's lettuce in honor of 4/20.

Happy 4/20 everybody, I hope you enjoy :)

It does get slightly horny at times, so viewer discretion is advised. Also if you want me to do anymore headcanons, just lmk, I love doing these.

Jin

Chaos

Laughing at everything that's happening

To the point he's falling over

Trying to make jokes

But he can't stop laughing long enough to actually get them out

Definitely not sitting down

He's up and moving

He's trying to make a pillow fort out of couch cushions and throw blankets

Or he needs to get everyone's attention so he can give a presentation on an idea he had 2 seconds ago and is now obviously the most genius thing he's ever come up with

Trying to go somewhere probably

"Yo, we should definitely go bowling"

or even

"Does anyone wanna go to Walmart?"

But you're not going to Walmart to go shopping or to get things

It's absolutely only to hula-hoop and chase each other around the store with children's toys

If you're in a relationship with him?

He's 100% fucking with you the most

There will be no peace

Only war

You have to be just as excited as he is

Or he will try to fight you

In a joking way obviously

But ultimately, he probably just wants you to scratch his head and play with his hair

And once you do that?

Nap time :)

Yoongi

Couch locked

Blank face, not really saying anything

If he's paying attention to whatever conversation is happening, he'd laugh if something was funny

But chances are

He's zoned out and has no idea what anyone's saying

But that's only for the first 20 minutes or so

After that

He's overcome with affection

He's just looking around at everyone

And is so overwhelmed with love

The sappy little bitch

Definitely pretending he isn't tho

But the second anyone says they need anything

He's on it

You want a snack?

He'll go find one

Would definitely cook you dinner

Need a blanket?

Done

Do you need someone to hold your hand?

There is literally nothing that will stop him from holding your hand

And that goes for anyone he cares about

But especially his significant other

If you two were dating

You could make literally any request

And as long as it was physically possible for him to do it

It's done

Especially is it involves affection

Tbh just hold his hand when he's high, that's literally all he wants

Hoseok

Honestly?

The most normal out of all of them

This is not his first rodeo

He's very calm

It's business as usual for him

But is 100% very interested in everyone else's antics

He's listening to the jokes

He's paying attention to the one (probably Namjoon) going on about life's greatest mysteries

If someone's panicking

He's on it immediately

He'd notice quickly and try to help them in whatever way he could

Tell them that everything's gonna be okay

And that they probably just need a snack

And would immediately make them a snack

Wouldn't leave them alone until he was sure that they were okay

If you're dating

He's very chill on the outside

Especially if other people are there

But you're sitting next to him

And his hand is on your thigh

He's very subtle about it

But he's doing anything he can to drive you absolutely insane

Would 100% leave in the middle of a conversation with the guys to go find a bedroom with you

Then emerge an hour later

Hair messed up and wearing different clothes

And have absolutely no shame

Namjoon

Very casual while smoking

Carrying on in normal conversation

But when it hits him

He's gonna go quiet for a minute

Then launch into a monologue

About what?

Who knows

Could be anything

The meaning of the universe

How much he absolutely loves army's

His philosophical beliefs

If there's a whiteboard available he's ON IT

Idk what he's writing or why but he's definitely doing something

Probably to try to explain whatever he's monologuing about to everyone else

But

At some point

He's gonna say "I'm gonna go get a little snack"

And come back with a four-course meal

Like when I say munchies

I mean MUNCHIES

He's literally eating everything he can find

He's inhaling that shit

And if he's in a relationship

He'll honestly probably forget you're there while monologuing

But if you say something

Or he looks over at you

The biggest grin will spread across his face

And whatever he was talking about doesn't matter anymore in the slightest

You're the only thing that exists now

And in the most wholesome ways

He wants a hug

And will be giddy anytime you even look at him

Jimin

I mean this with the utmost respect

He's a thot

And he's extremely shameless about it

Flirting with everyone

Making everyone flustered

Prolonged eye contact

But everything is funny to him

Laughing at everything anyone says

Thinks Jin is absolutely hilarious

Falling over laughing so hard

Will fall out of his chair

There's just no way around it

But the shamelessness

You could dare him to do literally anything

And he'd do it

No exceptions

And if you're dating him?

I pray for you

He's like Hoseok in the way he'd drive you insane

But it's much less subtle

Like he's kissing your neck

And pulling you to sit in his lap

very territorial tbh

No one else should really be allowed to look at you

Like if it's just you with the guys, that's one thing

He trusts them

But if you guys went with Jin on his Walmart adventures

And someone looks at you for just a second too long

He will start making out with you in the middle of the bike section

And fully prepare to not be allowed out of his sight for more than a few minutes

Wants you on his arm at all times

Will wait outside the bathroom door for you to get done so he can show you off some more

Taehyung

Also couch locked

Probably in a baggy hoodie

Hood up

Slouched down as far as he can get into the couch

Eyelids low

Either completely zoned out or just listening to everyone else talk

Probably snacking on a bag of chips

No idea how though, because he definitely didn't get up to get them

But inevitably

He too will launch into a monologue

But unlike Namjoon

It wouldn't be about existential crises or how important the bees are

It's about how the birds are fake

They're definitely government drones

And the president?

100% a lizard

But is very easily distracted

If he's talking and someone interrupts him

He will not remember what he was saying at all

But doesn't mind

Because that topic of conversation is just as important

If there's an animal there, he's petting them

They're his new best friend, and literally no one else matters

But if you're dating him

He will not let you off the couch

His arms are around you and they're not going anywhere

If he's couch locked so are you

You're gonna watch this movie together

Or listen to your friends carry on conversation

But unless there's an emergency

Neither of you are getting up until tomorrow

Jungkook

A lot like Jin

Pure chaos

He's up and moving

Probably trying to pick fights with people

Just being an annoying little shit

Just so he can have an excuse to suplex someone

and he's laughing hysterically the whole time

Will do anything to avoid being serious

Would 100% go bowling and still somehow get a perfect score

But he's only doing trick shots

Like he's doing the absolute most

Will start dancing

No music playing?

That's fine, it's just the choreo to "That That"

And he's not particularly hungry

But if he starts eating

He's not stopping until he's comatose

And it doesn't matter what he's eating

It's the best thing he's ever eaten

And he will express this using his entire body

While dating you

He's trying to get you annoyed enough to swing on him

Just so he can pick you up and throw you over his shoulder

And you're not getting down anytime soon

In fact

The more you complain

The longer you're staying up there

But once he's calmed down

And you're eating

He's gonna feed you everything he eats

Because it's all just so good

And you have to experience it too

And after the food coma sets in

It's nap time

And there's no getting out of cuddling with him until he falls asleep

[the-bau-quinjet]

what about doing a steve x reader? maybe where the reader gets hurt during a mission by hydra?? just an idea!! xx

He’s Like a Brother to Me

Summary: Pretending to be a couple for a mission is normal, so why is your Captain so upset?

Warnings: being injured on a mission, kissing, a swear word or two

Word Count: 2202

a/n: My first request!! To the anon that requested this, thank you! I hope you like it :) Sorry if it's not angsty enough! I really tried, but once I got this idea in my head I ran with it. 

Also! I didn't do my normal tag list since y'all requested to be tagged when I was only writing Criminal Minds fics. Just lmk if you want to be tagged in marvel or CM or both!

"The mission is simple. You two will go to the gala as newly weds, pretend to be interested in more than the charitable events of the evening, figure out the chain of command for the weapons dealing, and put a stop to the weapons dealing assholes." Tony laid out the plan as if nothing could go wrong.

You turned to the super soldier on your left, relieved to find a matching grimace on his face.

"We have to pretend to be a couple?" You asked, turning back to Tony.

"Yes. The invites we secured are for Mr. and Mrs. Farley, so you two will be Mr. and Mrs. Farley for the evening. Any other questions?" Before you could chime in with the 17 questions in your head, Tony kept talking. "I didn't think so. Your clothes have already been dropped off to your rooms, so get ready. You'll have Rogers and Wilson doing surveillance in case anything goes wrong." Without another word, Tony forced you and Bucky out of the room.

"I guess I'll see in an hour, husband." You tried to joke, but your smile didn't meet your eyes.

"Same to you, wife." Bucky's face held a similar expression as you both turned your separate ways to get ready for the gala, trying to put the awkwardness behind you.

You and Bucky have been incredibly close ever since he first came back from Wakanda. You became fast friends since you are both so close with Steve.

It was easier for Bucky to open up to you than he anticipated, and in part it's because you remind him of his sister. Similarly, Bucky is like the older brother you never had. The two of you mesh, in the most platonic of ways.

He is there to tease you about your not-so-secret crush on Steve, and your there to help Sam come up with more annoying nicknames (starBucks being one of your favorite to date).

When it comes down to it though, you look out for each other. Of course, that won't make pretending to be a couple any less awkward.

-

You and Bucky enter the gala just after 8:00 pm. The large hotel ballroom is lit up by three enormous chandeliers, spaced throughout the room, with small sconces lining the outside walls. There are round tables around the outside of the room, framing a large open space for dancing.

People are mingling in small groups scattered throughout the room, waitstaff wondering around the room in precise lines to ensure anyone who wants a drink has access to one.

With a deep breath, you link your arm with Bucky's, laughing at the surprised look on his face.

"We have to at least try to sell it." You whispered in his ear, trying to play it off as a cute couple-y thing. "Even if we'd both rather be anywhere else." That comment earned a laugh, easing the tension from his shoulders.

Steve's voice in your ears refocuses you on the mission. "We just got video feed from the security cameras, so we have eyes on you now." You would have sworn you could hear an unfamiliar strain in Steve's voice as he spoke, but you chalked it up to just being nervous for the mission. "Try to mingle, figure out who's in charge."

Mingling was easier said than done. Every time the two of you tried to talk to anyone, the conversation was awkward and tense. You just didn't know how to answer questions about falling in love with each other. Ultimately, you decided eavesdropping was your best bet. Bucky pulled you to the dance floor, whispering in your ear as he held you, "dancing is the perfect cover for moving around the room."

You nodded your head in response, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"What are you doing? I said to mingle, not dance." Steve's voice in your ears surprised you. Normally, he'd stay quiet unless he received intel that could help with the mission or noticed something for you to look into.

"We're listening to other conversations, relax punk." Bucky's voice was light as he spun you around, closer to the most suspicious people you've found thus far.  

"What time is it happening?" The woman seemed nervous as she checked her watch.

"A few minutes. Relax, we'll meet them down the hall at 8:45." The man was calm and collected as he took her hand, leading her across the dance floor and out of the room.

"Guess that's our cue." You stated the obvious as you and Bucky went to follow them out of the ballroom. The couple turned down a side hallway, pulled out a key card, and entered a room, about halfway down.

You and Bucky made quick work to reach the room, pausing outside to listen in. You heard the couple, along with an unfamiliar voice.

"Do you have them?" The unfamiliar voice asked.

"We do. They're hidden in another room down the hall." the woman again sounded nervous.

"You" the unfamiliar voice must have pointed at someone, "go get them. Your wife will stay here to keep me company. Make it quick, Hydra has more important things to do."

Yours and Bucky's eyes went wide at the mention of Hydra. This mission wasn't supposed to have anything to do with them. Before you could react, footsteps could be heard coming toward the door. You had a few seconds max to figure out a way to hide.

With no other options in sight, you pulled Bucky across the hallway into the world's most awkward kiss. When the door swung open, you pretended not to notice, too lost in your "relationship" to care.

The man you saw earlier walked a few doors down before entering another room. You pulled back from Bucky, wincing slightly at the expression on his face. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't think of anything else to do to make it look like we weren't listening..." You trailed off.

"No, no it's fine. It was the only option." Bucky cleared his throat, still slightly dazed and very thrown off.

"Could the two of you stop staring at each other and get back to work?' Steve's voice was again present in your ears, and this time he was definitely angry.

"Right! Right, of course. Let's go." You awkwardly pushed off the wall, moving down the hallway to the room you saw the man enter. On the count of three, you burst into the room together. It was easy enough to over power the lone man in the room, but you and Bucky were still a little shaken up after the kiss. You handcuffed him to the bedpost, taking the key card he used earlier and moving back down the hallway.

After a brief, awkward eye contact, Bucky opened the door with you rushing in behind him. The only two people in the room were the two you heard earlier, making for a fairly easy take down.

"Cap, we got 'em. Two in room 217 and one in room 223." You started to fill him and Sam in, unsure if they still had eyes on you. At that exact moment, three more Hydra agents ran in from an adjoining room, catching you off guard.

You yelped when the gun went off, surprised at the sudden noise after thinking the mission was over. You and Bucky managed to take down the three agents without much more difficulty.

"Scratch that Cap, five in room 217." You again began filling him in, but the room started spinning. Your voice was wavering when you collapsed, the last thing you heard a mixture of Steve's voice in your ear and Bucky's in person calling your name.

"Y/N!" Then everything faded to black.

-

"What the hell happened in there?" Steve and Bucky were standing just outside of the med bay. After you collapsed, Bucky realized you had been shot in the stomach. While other Shield agents came to collect the men you had stopped, Bucky carried you to the quinjet, meeting a pissed looking Steve at the door.

The two didn't talk at all during the short flight back to the compound. It wasn't until you were in the med bay receiving medical attention that Steve rounded on Bucky.

"There was never any indication that more agents were there. They caught us off guard! I didn't even realize she had been shot until after we had them contained." Bucky was beating himself up. He let his guard down, still trying to get over the lingering weirdness of you kissing him.

"Caught you off guard? Buck-" Before Steve could yell anymore, Dr. Cho came out to talk to them.

"Y/N will be fine. She lost a lot of blood, but she should recover relatively quickly. She'll likely wake up in the next half hour." Dr. Cho got straight to the point, trying to ease the nerves of the two super soldiers.

"Thank you so much. Thank you!" Bucky called over his shoulder as he ran into the room, planting himself by your side. He may be weirded out by the kiss, but he knows you were too. You're still like a little sister to him, nothing could stop him from being there for you when you wake up.

Steve followed Bucky into the room after thanking Dr. Cho and briefly discussing the timeline for your recovery.

"As I was saying. Caught you off guard? I've never seen you caught off guard before." Although he was whispering so as not to disturb you, his words were nearly venomous. "The two of you let your feelings get in the way of this mission."

The look of guilt already present on Bucky's face multiplied tenfold. "You think I don't know that? I should've seen it coming. If I wasn't distracted I could've stopped them before Y/N got hurt."

You woke up at some point, hearing Bucky blame himself. Instantly, you wanted to ease his worries. "Hey," the two men turned to you, concern clear on their faces. "It wasn't your fault, Buck. I was just as distracted. Neither of us saw it coming, even though both of us should have. It doesn't matter though, because we got them, and I'll be fine." You sat up, wincing slightly at the pain in your abdomen.

"How can you say that? Of course it matters! You could have died, all because Bucky was too busy making heart eyes at you to-" Steve's words were cut off by identical sounds of laughter from you and Bucky.

"Heart eyes?! Oh my god, that's hilarious." You stuttered out the words between laughs. Steve look so confused, you couldn't help but laugh at his cute expression.

Every time you thought you were done, one look at either Bucky or Steve had you laughing again. "Oh god, make it stop! It hurts to laugh!" You pouted slightly, begging Bucky to stop laughing and Steve to change his expression.

Finally, Bucky reined it in enough to speak. "I was distracted because Y/N like a little sister. It's definitely a bit distracting to feel like you just kissed your sister" You and Bucky each made a face of disgust as you looked at each other.

Meanwhile, Steve had a look of complete shock on his face. "Wh-what? You two aren't ... ya know?”

Again, you and Bucky share looks of disgust. "God, no. He's like a brother to me."

"Yeah, I love Y/N like a sister. I'm definitely not in love with her." Bucky agrees.

Steve's expression is sheepish as he tries to explain himself, "but, but after the kiss you were staring into his eyes like you were in love!"

"We most definitely were not." Mumbling under your breath, you kept talking "his aren't the blue eyes I'd like to lovingly stare into."

Steve was shocked into silence by your statement.

"I think that's my cue to leave." Bucky wore a smug grin as he slapped Steve on the back, uttering a quick "good luck, punk" before leaving.

It was quiet for a minute, neither of you quite sure what to say.

"Who's blue eyes do you want to stare into?" Steve broke the silence, shuffling closer to sit on the side of your bed.

"What?" It took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you said that sentence out loud. "I said that out loud?" You threw your hands up to cover your face, mumbling about being an idiot to delay having to answer.

"You did. So... who's blue eyes?" Steve's demeanor quickly shifted from shy to confident. He slowly moved your hands off your face, tilting your chin up to look into your eyes. One look had you confessing all your secrets.

"Yours. It always been yours." He rubbed his thumb across your cheek, leaning in closer to you until your foreheads were touching.

"Let me take you on a date." His words were barely a whisper, the warm air from his breath sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded in response, not trusting your voice.

He leaned in closer, barely brushing his lips over yours. "I need words, sweetheart."

You pushed forward, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss.

"Yes."

[jasontoddswhitestreak]

Papa!mcu! Quicksilver with a pair of boy/girl twins headcanons?

no wait bc i love this idea so much!!

summary: in which you have twins with the love of your life, pietro maximoff.

content warning: pietro maximoff x fem!reader, pregnant reader, fluff! set in a world where pietro and vision aren’t dead and wandavision doesn’t take place but wanda has the twins <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (lmk if you want to see more content like this! <3)

masterlist

He’d be so nervous every since he found out about your pregnancy, given his whole upbringing he wouldn’t know how raise a kid, let alone two kids. He’d want to give his kids everything he never got as a kid.

He’d never have a favourite twin, he’d love both kids equally, Pietro knew what it was like to be the least favourite twin, he knew what it felt to not be wanted and people preferring his sister over him and he’d make sure neither of his kids would have to experience that ever.

He’d tell them stories during your pregnancy, laying down next to you, his hand resting gently on your stomach while you napped. He’ll tell them all of kinds of stories, about the avengers, about him and wanda, about you. When he thinks you’re in deep sleep he’d softly sing them a Sokovian song his mother sang to him whenever he had a nightmare.

He’d coddle you so much, he wouldn’t let you get up and do anything, not wanting any harm to come to you or the babies, and you bet your ass he didn’t let you go on any missions, even after the babies were born he’d be hesitant, he had more to lose now.

The first moment he held his newborn daughter was a moment the two of you would cherish, his eyes were full of love, his fingers trembling as a tiny hand wrapped itself around his pinky finger. His first born, his prinţesă. She had his eyes but your hair, Pietro couldn’t stop staring at her, he knew then and there he’d do anything for her.

Your son came out kicking and screaming, a carbon copy of his father, feisty with a short temper. Pietro couldn’t stop crying when he held his newborn son in his arms, he knew he’d do anything for his son. Pietro knew he’d tell his son how proud of him he was every single day. Pietro would tell his son all the things Pietro wished his father would tell him.

The moment where Wanda and her kids met your kids was a moment Pietro would cherish in his heart forever. The way little Tommy and Billy ran up to see their little cousins. The fact that his kids would have two older cousins that would do anything to protect them.

“She has white hair like me!” Tommy exclaimed, pointing out the similarities in their hair colours. Pietro knew the possibility of his daughter having super speed was high and he couldn’t wait, he’d couldn’t wait to see her grow into a strong powerful woman just like her mother.

Your daughter was much more timid compared to her younger brother, resting in Pietro’s arms comfortably while her older cousin Billy held onto her tiny hand gently, whispering stories to the younger girl.

Pietro would be hesitant to anyone holding the baby, he’d make sure their arms are in the right position, that they used hand sanitiser before hand and has no flu or cough because he wouldn’t want to risk anything at all.

Due to Pietro having so much energy 24/7 he’d let you sleep during the middle of the night when he hears the cries of your children, rushing to go comfort his children.

“What’s all this noise? What’s wrong prinţesă? You don’t want to wake up your brother do you?”

He’d hold her in his arms, rocking her gently to sleep while humming the same songs he sang to them while they were still in your body. Pietro would be better at calming your daughter than you, his singing putting her at ease while your son preferred to be in your arms.

Pietro believed his kids were born with powers, he believed they were powerful from the beginning just because of how quick he fell in love with them, he’d do anything for them, he’d hurt anyone that laid a finger on them. Pietro never had a family like this before, only remembering glimpses of his parents. He didn’t know how to do the whole dad job, he was afraid, he was terrified, incase his daughter grew up to fear him, incase his son grew up to resent him. He loved them with all his heart.

The “terrible two’s” was an understatement

There was no silence in the Maximoff household. Whether it was your son crying because he wanted a specific item or your daughter crying because she had an item stolen by her brother. Pietro was almost like a baby whisperer, when he walked into the room those cries would turn into bubbles of laughter. You’d walk into the living room to see Pietro sitting cross-legged on the ground while your kids sat next to him drawing with their father.

You bet your ass you put all on the fridge.

There would be a mini competition between you and Pietro. You were trying to see which baby would say their first word before the other, You thought it would be your son who was the carbon copy of his father, Pietro however believed it would be your daughter.

And he was right. (And he constantly reminded you that he was right)

Even when the kids got older Pietro would spoil them whenever he got a chance to do so, whether that was ice-cream for dinner or letting them stay up later than usual to watch a movie with him, they’d adore him so much and love spending time with him.

Pietro would try convince them that Quicksilver is the best avenger and should be their favourite Avenger. Your son agreed with his father, your daughter however preferred her aunt, the Scarlet Witch.

“Really? You chose your aunt over your beloved father, dragă? I bought you that thing you wanted the other day!”

The three of them agreeing the best avenger was in fact, you <3

Pietro would love movie nights, it would remind him of the movie nights the two of you had before you even got together, when your friendship consisted of stolen glances and hidden feelings, afraid to take the relationship to the next level.

Pietro remembered talking to you about the future during those movie nights, he told you how scared he was for the future, he was scared of what would happen to him and Wanda. And he remembered you being there for him and comforting him, reassuring him that no matter what happens, you’d always be there for him.

Pietro would do anything to protect the family he finally got. The family he always dreamed of having.

all works: @teenwonder @amourtentiaa @husherstan

pietro maximoff taglist: @vibingpotatoes @paige0103