#snowflake training classes

[gemgdynamight0]

hc for Katsuki's sidekicks:

two sidekicks who are UA 3rd years/just graduated and they're both girls and very competitive rivals who are very serious in their job and they both grew up admiring Katsuki's skills, passion and spirit when he's fighting so they want to surpass him (that's why he accepted them). But they don't really like each other and get annoying sometimes because they fight and argue a lotttt, like imagine they're in a mission and are arguing through the comms and Katsuki is so annoyed and face palming telling them to "FOCUS IDIOTS" but he secretly smiles because it reminds him of his rivalry with deku when they were young.

They also spent their 1st and 2nd year internships with Katsuki and he trained them soooo hard because he sees boys and girls equally and also saw so much potential in those two. that made them so happy (I'm assuming their society is still misogynist like it was during the sport festival)

Part 2 of my sidekick au

[novelistwriter]

The Ice Skater

DP x DC Prompt

Danny is living in Gotham, attending college because Jazz forced him to. He would've been fine not attending college, but he couldn't say no to Jazz when she wasn't the Psychologist in Training and instead his sister. He's majoring in engineering with astronomy as his minor class.

Because he is a Halfa, Danny doesn't have an obsession like the full Ghosts, and Vlad is the same. He's just obsessed with him and his mom normally, well, as normal as a human and not a Ghost.

Danny had discovered that he liked ice skating during one of his visits to Frostbite. He was very bad at it at first, but learning from Ghosts who liked to ice skating or had ice skating as their obsession was helpful (he just had to reassure them that they wouldn't be punished for messing up because he's the Ghost King).

Danny uses ice skating as a way to relieve some stress when he can't view the stars. He's been doing that a lot after moving to Gotham. He unknowingly uses his Ice Core while he skates, which causes a thin but noticeable stream of frost and snowflakes to be released from him. He becomes the center of attention whenever he skates, so much so that a Wayne boy has become mesmerized by his skating when the family was bonding at the ice rink.

[starmapz]

what you know - ch8: hysteria || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. mutual pining. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic (attacks). mentions of difficulty eating. vomit. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 17.7k (oops).

❦ a/n ; please note the tags have been updated.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

Although not particularly cold throughout the holidays, a frigid air settles over the city shortly after the date turns to the new year. As usual, Gojo held his annual frat party that you’re required to be at by virtue of being his friend, though you end up being one of many single party-goers who dips into a corner as the clock strikes midnight. The idea of a stranger’s lips wandering to yours doesn’t sit well in your stomach and although you asked if he would attend, Sukuna had promised his little brothers a celebration, just the three of them. Not that you would kiss Sukuna anyway, of course-

Yuji had apparently never celebrated the new year, too young to understand previously, though based on the photo in your email inbox, he didn’t get to celebrate this one either. A blurry photo taken from the camera on Sukuna’s laptop, pointed down at Yuji sound asleep in his lap while he and Choso had MarioKart running in the background had been the telltale sign.

You can’t blame him for not having a phone, but sometimes you do wish you could text rather than email. Especially with your friendship seeming to blossom as of late. It took a bit of nurturing to get to this point, but Sukuna seems to recognize his faults and actively tries to work on and better himself. Regardless of his often-irritable demeanor, you appreciate the effort on his part.

Snowflakes settle in your palm as you hold it out in front of you on the walk to the lunch hall. Settling back into the flow of having classes early in the mornings brings with it a dreary haze that hangs over the student body, yourself included. Not a single soul seems to be well-rested, apart from one person.

“Good morning,” Kento greets you with a warm smile, running a hand through his golden locks.

“Morning, Kento,” you greet him in return, your attention trained on the snowflakes melting on the warmth of your skin. “How was it, going back home?”

“It was relaxing,” he replies, a frown pulling at his lips as he takes in your dazed expression. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to join us.”

“That’s alright! I really did appreciate your offer to pay for my tickets, but it didn’t feel right,” you shoot him a smile, though quickly return your attention to your hand.

Auburn irises flicker down to your palm, trying to figure out what’s holding your interest so adamantly. “I understand, although it really wouldn’t have been a big deal.”

“Really, it’s fine, Nanamin. Satoru, Suguru, and Sukuna all had me over and I talked to my parents a bunch,” you assure him, finally dropping your hand and wiping the condensation on the front of your coat.

“Sukuna?” He asks, his brows raising, though it’s more of a rhetorical question as he’s already aware he’ll be doing Sukuna a favor at some point in the new year.

“He’s put in a lot of effort to make up for what happened.” Your tone is somewhat clipped, coming out unintentionally defensive.

Nanami’s gaze flickers to your face, catching the minute knit of your brows and tension in your shoulders. “I should hope so. Either way, I wasn’t making any accusations. Simply an observation.”

You sigh. “I know, sorry. I think I’m just a bit exhausted,” you chuckle, shooting him an apologetic smile. “I can’t believe we’re already back to it. The break felt so short.”

“I agree,” he hums as he opens the door to the lunch hall for you. With a grateful smile, you slip past him and head towards your regular table. Looks like you won’t be the first to arrive this semester. You and Kento are the last to arrive, taking your seats and beginning to pull out your lunches as you get back into the swing of lunches on campus.

Just as you pull out some leftover pasta, Sukuna takes a seat beside you. He looks worse for wear, even more exhausted than you. His sleep schedule is always atrocious, so you can only imagine what it would look like without classes.

“Hey, Kuna!” You grin as you greet him.

In usual Sukuna fashion, he leans over the table on his elbow, resting his chin against his palm. “Princess.” He yawns quietly, his eyes briefly fluttering shut.

“Long day?” You ask, amused but sympathetic.

“Long fuckin’ day,” he agrees, his chest rumbling in faint laughter. “Y’know, you usually don’t look as tired as I-”

“Hey hotshot, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” Gojo blurts out suddenly, interrupting Sukuna.

With a deadpan expression, the tattooed man’s jaw clenches in barely-masked irritation. Of all days, Sukuna could only have hoped Gojo would keep his mouth shut today, unable to deal with his bullshit in this state. “The hell did I do?” He rolls his shoulders, as though prepping for a fight. 

Can’t these two get along just for once?

“You were on my balcony at the end of finals party, and let some couple fuck on my bed!” He points an accusatory finger at Sukuna’s chest, his nose scrunching in disgust at the mere thought.

Slowly, you bring a hand up to cover your mouth in realization. As you glance at Sukuna, you’re surprised to see his expression has relaxed somewhat, a smug smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “What, you think I broke in to let some other couple fuck?” Sukuna sneers, practically reveling in the way Gojo scoffs. “I didn’t do it on purpose, asshole.” He tilts his head towards you, crimson eyes filled with amusement. “Why don’t you tell him?”

You can tell from his tone he’s enjoying this way too much. “Um- well-” you wince as Satoru’s expression falls, dramatic betrayal written across his face in bolded marker. “I may have unlocked your room to get some air and… kinda didn’t lock the door behind me.” You mutter the last portion into your hand, a sheepish shrug the best you can offer him.

“It was you?” He whines, lip curled in utter disbelief.

“And to think he blamed Sukuna this whole time,” Suguru butts in, amused.

“I saw him leave the balcony!” The frat boy counters, turning his attention back to you. “I had to stay on Suguru’s floor while my mattress got cleaned,” he gripes.

“I can’t even imagine my floor was that much cleaner,” Suguru quips teasingly, a mischievous glimmer in his golden eyes.

Satoru jabs him in the side before turning his attention to you. “You owe me. No, you double owe me because I had you over for Christmas dinner too!” He waggles his spoon at you, before dropping it in his soup with all the dramatic flair he can muster.

“I’m so sorry, Satoru! I promise it was an accident.” You offer your best apologetic smile.

He shuts his eyes for a moment, sighing. “It’s fiiiine. Just… buy me drinks next time we go out or something.”

“I’d like to think I should be compensated for dealing with Satoru’s whining,” Suguru chimes in, entertained by the whole ordeal.

Shaking your head at the raven-haired man’s blatant teasing, you giggle quietly, your elbow lightly brushing Sukuna. He’s still leaning over the table, close enough to feel his breath fan your arm with each rise and fall of his chest.

“After consulting my bank account, I can get Suguru one drink, and Satoru two,” you offer.

“Deal!”

“Deal.”

Sukuna shakes his head, shooting a final glance at Satoru that doesn’t hold the amusement he regarded you with before his full attention shifts back to you. “Just gonna throw me under the bus like that, huh?” He gruffs. Beyond the tired glaze that paints his eyes is a mirthful gleam, reserved only for you as he observes the way you sheepishly chuckle.

“My bad,” you scratch at the back of your neck, your cheeks heating up as his arm brushes yours. “I was gonna jump in, I swear!”

“Mhm.” Sukuna lets out a long breath, leaning back comfortably over the table and putting some distance between you. Just as he begins to zone out, lost in thought over the lawsuit, he sits up straight, his attention drawn to Kento. “Did you find a time to meet with- uh- Kento?”

“Oh!” You gently nudge Kento at Sukuna’s reminder. “Can you and your friend meet up on…” you glance back at Sukuna to fill in the blank as his schedule is much more packed than yours usually is.

“Friday. After four.”

Kento spins to face you, his watchful gaze doing a once-over of Sukuna. “I can get back to you on that. It should work for me, but I’ll need to speak with him.”

You grin. “Great! If that works, can we meet at the cafe across from the Science building?”

Kento nods. “I’ll let you know this afternoon. I believe I share a class with him.”

The two men on either side of you exchange another tense glance, letting the uneasy atmosphere dissolve as they mutually redirect their attention elsewhere. Sukuna leans forward on the table, resting his chin on his crossed arms, his eyes watching with mild interest as you take a bite of your leftover pasta.

Just as you’re about to offer him a bite, your lips purse in surprise as two men you don’t recognize take seats in front of Sukuna. It only clicks who they must be when Uraume takes a seat on Sukuna’s opposite side. You shoot them a warm smile as the salmon-haired man’s head lifts.

You can’t tell what’s going through Sukuna’s mind as he grunts out a “what are you doin’ here?”

The man sitting on Gojo’s left, who’s currently receiving a deeply displeased glare from your snowy-haired friend, has black hair that falls straight over his forehead and a scar on his lip. Beside him is a man with spiked brown hair and a toothpick between his teeth. His lips seem to be drawn in a perpetual frown. He speaks up first. “We haven’t seen you since the party.”

The man with the scarred lip smirks. “That, and Uraume was mentionin’ your girl wanted to meet us.”

Sukuna’s lip curls in frustration, a deathly glare burning his friend for calling you his girl. He introduces you, making a point of calling you his friend, before pointing out Toji, with the scar, and Atsuya.

With a grin and deeply warmed cheeks, you point out each of the members of your friend group. Haibara and Shoko are as sweet as ever, while Geto and Nanami are kind. Gojo, on the other hand, seems frustrated with the arrival of the group, in particular Toji, which you suppose makes sense if the man’s got a penchant for being a pain even by Sukuna’s standards from what you’ve heard.

In spite of Toji’s immediate overbearing teasing, he seems nice enough, and with their arrival, Sukuna becomes slightly more talkative. He’s slowly coming out of his shell around you, which you’re grateful for.

“So,” Toji begins, mischief dancing across his emerald irises, “how in the world did ya manage to get through to this asshole?” He questions you, jabbing a thumb towards Sukuna at your side.

You giggle, not missing the way Sukuna’s jaw clenches. “Not easily.”

“I’ll say. I’ve known ‘im since we were kids and I’m still not part of his Christmases,” he scoffs.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a fuckin’ dick, I’d invite you,” Sukuna scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“You could always invite Sukuna, could you not?” Uraume points out to Toji, who scoffs, his expression deadpan.

“Oh yeah, who wants t’ come to the Zenin Family Dinner? Drop on by, we got my fuckass uncle, my asshole grandparents and Naoya. Who wouldn’t wanna join?” He jeers, sarcasm dripping from each and every word.

“Is that the ‘Naoya’ you punched?” You ask, keeping your voice low for only Sukuna to hear as you lean towards him.

“Mhm.”

“‘Sides,” Toji begins, “your dad used to invite me every year, dunno what I did to get uninvited.”

Oh.

Oh.

He doesn’t know.

Sukuna’s leg bounces absentmindedly under the table at the mention of his father, his gaze averting to a nearby wall in an effort to keep his reaction neutral.

“You know, I could host something next year,” you offer in an effort to divert attention away from the topic of Sukuna’s father. To your horror, the table goes silent. The tension coming off of Satoru and Toji in waves is palpable, and you’re beyond grateful for Shoko, Kento, and Uraume, the first three at the table to chime in.

“Sounds like fun.”

“I would join.”

“That sounds lovely.”

You let out a sigh of relief as gradually, the rest of the table begins to agree, even the two men who seem to continually be at odds with one another. You have half a mind to wonder how that even happened given that Satoru’s usually the one to get under others’ skin, not vice versa.

As conversation begins to return, Sukuna quietly mutters a “thanks” in your ear that sends a shiver straight down your spine before burying his face in his arms as you finish your meal. The tension in the air doesn’t fully dissolve but at the very least, Satoru and Toji choose to simply not acknowledge one another.

With a glance at the time on your phone, you begin packing up once you finish your lunch. A couple of others at the table check the time as they take notice of your actions, using the opportunity to pack up as no one wants to be late on the first day of class. With nothing to pack up himself, Sukuna swings his bag over his shoulder and mumbles a “see ya,” heading for the door before you can stop him.

Even with how far your friendship has come, it seems some things never change.

With a sigh, you turn back to the table. “It was nice to meet you, Toji and Atsuya,” you smile politely.

“Likewise,” Atsuya agrees with a tired smile.

“‘Course. Had to meet the woman Sukuna’s been ditchin’ us for.” Toji shoots you a shit-eating grin, something you don’t dare read into as your face warms at the mere thought of being the person Sukuna seems to always choose.

“See you all later,” you call out to the broader table, met with a chorus of goodbyes. “Text me, Sho!”

Hurrying out the door to your next class, you zip up your coat as you make your way through the frozen wasteland that separates you from Literature History. At least the weather had relented somewhat from the beginning of December, offering a more mild bite that didn’t seem to seep into the very fiber of your being.

Still, it’s a hell of a lot colder than it was before the new year.

With a huff as you cross the barrier into the building where your next class is, you let the warmth envelop you, grateful for the shelter from the bitter wind outside. Winter had only really begun to settle over the city in the last month, but you’re ready for spring to arrive. Even if it means more finals.

Sighing at the thought of starting the entire dance over again- class, studying, finals, not to mention your required internship- you push through the door to the lecture hall, briefly pausing at the bottom of the class to search for a familiar face.

And god fucking damn it, the way your eyes light up when you spot Sukuna could practically make him dizzy. He’s careful that his crimson stare doesn’t give away the strange way his chest tightens at the mere sight of your beaming smile, keeping his expression indifferent as his gaze trails your path.

You jog up the stairs until you find a place beside him, grinning as you slide into the seat. “I was gonna ask what your next class was, but you left so fast,” you comment, getting settled as you pull out your laptop.

“Mm,” Sukuna watches your movements, his eyes trailing your manicured nails. Pink. They almost match his hair.

Why is he even thinking about this?

“Didn’t wanna be late,” he excuses his actions, finally meeting your eyes.

Your bottom lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout. “At least walk with me when we have class together.”

He lets out a long breath through his nose. “Yeah, alright, princess,” he teases, unable to help his smirk as he settles back into familiar territory with you and the strange flutter in his chest eases.

The professor walks in, writing her name in large font across the whiteboard at the front of the room as she begins her introduction to the class.

“Y’know,” Sukuna leans closer, his voice lowering so as not to disturb the other students. “Apparently the prof’s a huge conspiracy theorist.”

“Really?” You ask, interest gleaming behind narrowed eyes.

“Mhm. Supposedly she believes Shakespeare never existed.”

“Like, she believes the anti-Stratfordian theory?” You ask, tilting your head. That’s not an unreasonable theory, to believe that many of the plays typically associated with Shakespeare were perhaps written by another famous playwright or author under a pseudonym that happened to match the name of a living man.

“Nah. ‘Parently she believes he never existed,” Sukuna shrugs.

“But- he did. Maybe not the one we know, but there’s proof of his birth and death records. He has a grave,” you point out.

“I know that,” he smirks. “I heard she rambled about that theory and Dickens’ death for an hour last semester.”

You blink twice. “You’re kidding.” Groaning as quietly as you can muster, you drag your hands down your face. “I can’t afford to have another history professor who rambles. And the Dickens theory isn’t even interesting,” you tack on in a grumble.

“You’ll be fine,” Sukuna chuckles, amused at your reaction. “Literature’s your thing, ain’t it?”

“Well… yeah, but you know how I am with names, dates and faces.”

“And you know how to study for that,” he points out, nudging your shoulder. “‘Sides, you’ll have-”

“If something is so interesting that you feel the need to interrupt, Mr. Sukuna,” the professor’s voice booms around the lecture hall as all eyes land on the pair of you. Sukuna keeps his cool, which you’re thankful for as you pale and shrink into your seat. “Then I would suggest you come up here and share with the class.”

He doesn’t bother to reply, simply giving a wave of his hand for her to continue. It’s not exactly the polite response you would have given, but with a final glance between you both, she turns back to the broader class to continue the lecture.

Sukuna eyes you from his peripherals as you slowly relax back into your seat when you’re no longer the center of attention. If you bristled so much from just being called out, he can only imagine the pain you went through when he left you hanging last semester. He frowns to himself at the thought, his attention never fully given to the professor as much as he tries.

His mind wanders between the introduction to Elizabethean and Jacobean literature and the way your nails tap against your keyboard as you type up notes. As the class drags on and his mind drifts further and further from the lecture, he leans back in his seat and roughly drags his hands over his face.

He’s exhausted beyond belief, frustrated with his schedule for this semester, frustrated with Toji for sticking his nose in Sukuna’s business, irritated with himself for not paying attention for something he’s paying a lot of money to attend, and to top it all off, he knows he has a long day ahead of him.

It’s not like it’s a first, most days are long in his world, but today he’s all the more frustrated and it’s wearing him thin.

So caught up in his thoughts, he doesn’t even realize the room is shuffling until your laptop shuts beside him, the dull snap bringing him back to reality. As you slip your laptop into a sleeve and delicately place it in your bag, he follows suit, tucking his laptop into his backpack and throwing his coat on.

He even supposes he’ll wait for you this time around, given that he has some time before picking up his brothers for once.

You pause in front of him, zipping your jacket up as you type out a message on your phone. “Looks like Friday works for Kento’s friend.”

Sukuna nods, his brow knit. “I’ll need to bring Cho and Yu. Uraume’s got late classes this semester and our neighbor’s away this week.”

You pause for a moment as you consider what that means. “You’ll need to tell them.” Your tone is somber, your voice quiet. He almost doesn’t hear you over the bustling of students exiting the lecture hall.

He nods slowly, a muscle in his jaw ticking. One might even argue he’s too aware of that fact. You can physically see gears turning in his mind, a question sitting atop his tongue that he doesn’t want to voice.

“What’s wrong, Kuna?” You query gently, tilting your head to look up at him. The tattoo along the length of his jaw stretches along his skin as he grimaces.

“D’you have another class?”

You shake your head.

“Don’t wanna talk about it here.” With a large hand on the small of your back, he directs you out of the hall and back into the cold, his palm lifting from your warmth to run through his tousled locks.

If only he knew the way your stomach flipped from such a simple touch.

Regardless, he probably should have asked if you had any plans for the afternoon, rather than simply dragging you off campus and towards his brothers’ school, but the thought is lost on him. Luckily for him, you might be a little too understanding of the man who unknowingly holds your heart, so you don’t say a word as he silently leads you in a direction that you recognize.

Really, you could have at least gotten your car instead of trudging through the cold.

Before you can protest, Sukuna finally finds the words to voice his thoughts.

“What if I’m lookin’ at this the wrong way?” He gruffs, tense and raw with emotion that isn’t often something you associate with him.

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but you can’t quite tell where his meaning lies. “What way is that?”

“Been thinkin’. I mean, she’s their mother, right? What if they’re better off with her? What if they wanna go with her and I’m puttin’ up a fight they don’t want me to win?”

It hits you like a ton of bricks. The impact nearly pushes the breath from your lungs and causes your stride to falter. If Sukuna notices, he doesn’t slow down and it takes you a moment to catch up, his words still sinking in.

“Wait- What?” You splutter, grappling with the severity of his grievance. He keeps his pace up, not even sparing you a glance. “Sukuna, wait-” You tug on his forearm, tearing his arm from his pocket as he pauses to look at you finally.

Distant. He didn’t hear you.

Blinking twice, you pull him to the edge of the sidewalk to keep his attention on you and away from the noise of the city around you. The lights, the people, the cars, it all seems to encroach on you and muddle your thoughts, you can only imagine the mileage his mind is currently making.

Certain that you have his focus now, you repeat yourself. “What are you talking about? You know they need you.”

He sighs, an air of irritation settling over him as he stares at the brick to your left. “They need a guardian, doesn’t mean they need me. Been thinkin’ maybe they’d want to go with her. With their mother.”

You pause, considering the question for yourself for a moment. You can sympathise with wanting what’s best for them, but it doesn’t sit well with you that he doubts himself so much when you can see what he means to those kids.

“You need to tell them what’s going on anyway, so I think it’s worth asking,” you agree. It’s the right thing to do regardless of the outcome. “But,” you add in a gentler tone, offering a kind smile, “they’ll choose you.”

His eyes snap to you, a tense set to his musculature. “What makes you so sure?” He almost sounds offended.

“They love you, Sukuna.” His brow twitches, his mouth opening to protest, but you continue. “You told me you couldn’t get a hold of their mom when your dad passed, right?”

He nods tensely.

“What kind of mother does that?” You point out. “Imagine how that would make Choso feel.”

You pause, letting the thought sink in. Sukuna doesn’t reply, absently cracking a knuckle.

He’d been so caught up all those years ago in the loss of their father and his own grief that he’d hardly considered that Choso’s grief had likely been twofold. The child had lost his father just like Sukuna, but he’d also had to deal with the loss of his mother. Not only that, but it was more like the active rejection of his mother, because the reality is that Sukuna tried hard to get a hold of her. Looking back, he knows he was in no way ready to parent his brothers and it was rocky at the start. He should never have let Choso sit at his side in tears as he tried every method he could to reach her.

Sukuna had always accepted that Choso got quieter as simply a part of his grief. The little boy had always teetered on the shy side of things, but Sukuna wonders now if there’s more to that. If his silence is a result of sitting alongside his frustrated and grief-stricken older brother as his mother chose not to reply.

When Sukuna’s silence extends, you do your best to guide him from the dark recesses that his mind attempts to take him to. “Would Yuji even remember her?”

Shit. Sukuna’s all Yuji’s ever known. If he doesn’t remember their father, there’s no way in hell he remembers his mother.

Sukuna drags a hand down his face. Coming to terms with the gravity of his own mistakes is one thing, but they don’t even begin to match up to the rejection of their mother.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, taking a step back to pace in front of the wall. Giving him the space and time he needs, you simply watch as he huffs and sighs. Fiddling with your neatly manicured nails, you wait patiently for him to organize his thoughts, only to frown when he shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette. In one smooth motion, he flips his lighter open and smoke trails like rippling water up into the cold air. He leans against the wall, leaning his head back against the brick as he exhales smoke into the overcast sky.

The nicotine calms his jittery mind enough to allow him the space to function within the claustrophobia of his thoughts. Inhaling deeply, he pushes off the wall and returns to you finally, looking up to exhale smoke away from you.

���Uraume’s right, you know.”

Any other time, Sukuna would have let that slide, knowing it was meant to be a cheeky little quip about his vice.

But today’s a bad fucking day for him.

“So I’ve been told.” There’s enough bite to his words that you’re actually a bit surprised at his choice of tone, but even looking back on that drunk night fumbling through apologies, this is the most stressed you’ve ever seen him. His face is gaunt, pale with dark shadows beneath his eyes, and as you take in his outfit, you realize he’s wearing the hoodie he usually throws on after his showers.

If you were to wager a guess, he’s probably wearing last night’s clothes. He doesn’t attempt to hide the tension that grips his muscles and claws at his brow, either.

It’s clear that the thoughts he’s been sharing with you are ones that have been plaguing him as of late. He’s likely been grappling with the idea of telling his brothers about the lawsuit since you last saw him at Christmas. But that’s the thing about Sukuna, he would never ask for help. It’s a miracle he wanted to talk at all.

You let his snappy tone slide, giving him the benefit of the doubt that it’s not intentional. After all, he did ask you to come out here in the cold with him to talk.

Well, maybe ‘asked’ is the wrong word, but he made it clear he wanted you here to talk.

Still, the tension that hangs between you isn’t the usual alluring tension that draws you to him. It’s not uncomfortable, but you would certainly prefer the usual silence with him. It hangs between you in the delicate balance of Sukuna’s startlingly fragile tenacity, which only serves to sympathize you to him in spite of his loose temper.

Sukuna taps a finger on the edge of his cigarette. The ember tip falls to the ground in a pile of ash, melting a small crater of snow at his feet. Choosing not to acknowledge the rigidity that strains the quiet air, he casts a glance at his watch and nods in the direction of his brothers’ school.

“Don’t wanna be late,” he grunts, smoke escaping from the corners of his lips. With one final inhalation, he tosses the cigarette on the ground and stomps it out, turning on his heel to lead the way to the school.

You chew absently on your lip, trailing slowly after him.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, your mind grasping at the conversations of the people passing you by in an effort to fill the dead air. It’s suffocating being in Sukuna’s presence when he’s made a point of having you near, while simultaneously being bull-headed as he holds you at arms’ length.

“They ask for you a lot.”

You take a couple of long strides to catch up with him, thankful that he breaks the ice. Fiddling with the woven bracelets that are still tied to your wrist, you smile. “That’s really sweet. They’re good kids.”

Sukuna casts you a glance. He can see uncertainty in your eyes. He’s not stupid, he knows it’s his fault. But some stubborn part of him holds something akin to a grudge against you for pointing out something he knows is bad for him.

He’s got bigger problems than his nicotine addiction.

When Sukuna doesn’t reply, you swallow nervously. “You’ve raised them well, Kuna.”

Piercing irises snap towards you, flitting between your eyes. “‘M not so sure about that.”

“Aren’t you proud of them?” You push, tilting your head.

Sukuna’s chest clenches. He averts his gaze, grimacing. “‘Course.”

“Then why wouldn’t you think you raised them well?”

“I’m not what they need,” he replies simply.

Your gaze narrows, lips pursing in confusion. “They need a roof over their heads and food on the table. You’re good to them, Sukuna.”

He sighs heavily. “They need someone more attentive. Someone who can be home and dote over them.”

“Dote?” You parrot, the corner of your lip twitching up. “I’ve seen you dote.”

He scoffs. “As if.”

“What do you call your gifts to them?”

A crease forms between his brows. “That wasn’t doting. It hardly meant anything.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, and I don’t think you do either,” you tease, prodding his shoulder and chancing his patience with you.

He scowls down at you, huffing.

You giggle quietly, your breath visible in the air before you. Quieting down, you nudge him gently. “You know just how much those gifts meant to them. You’re exactly what they need, Sukuna. And I think you’re what they want, too.”

Sukuna falters, catching himself quickly enough to play it off like he tripped. Somehow, that’s the less embarrassing option here, he thinks.

“Maybe.” It comes out weaker than intended, and he’s grateful that the steps up to the front of the school offer an escape from the conversation. He may have started it, but like most other difficult conversations he dragged you into, he usually finds himself reluctant to continue them.

Something about how well you know his brothers, how well you know him, shakes him to his very core and he’s not willing to touch that thought with a ten foot pole.

To his relief, the bell rings and a teacher guides a class of young, bright-eyed children out of the school to reunite them each with those meant to pick them up. As Yuji crosses the school’s barrier, she points the two of you out and the little boy goes barreling towards you both.

“Kunaaaaa!” He cries out excitedly, attaching himself like a koala to his older brother’s leg. Sukuna grunts, lifting him into the air as he easily keeps his balance. The little boy giggles, his eyes opening to look at his brother, when he spots you.

Hopping from his brother’s arms with wide, excited eyes, he leaps into your arms as you extend them to him. “You’re here!” He cheers, arms wrapped around your neck in a tight hug.

You giggle, doing your best to hold the boy up as he clings tightly to you. “How was school, Yu?”

“It was great! We’re learning about the oceans and sharks, and-”

As Yuji excitedly tells you about his day, Choso dips through the doorway, his eyes scanning the steps for Sukuna. As he spots both of you, a small smile makes its way to his lips and he jogs over with his hands pulling at the straps of his backpack.

Sukuna ruffles the boy’s hair, who smooths it down in response, a gleam in his eyes as he waves at the sight of you beside his brother. You smile back at him, unable to wave with the youngest Itadori in your arms. Sukuna begins leading the way back towards his apartment, listening to Yuji’s ramblings.

“- did you know that seals eat penguins? I could never eat a penguin, they’re so cute. I think seals should eat something else.”

“You think so?” You giggle at Yuji’s adamant statement.

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding his head. “They should just eat fish and get along with the penguins. Like you and Kuna.”

Your brow raises and you cast a glance at Sukuna, who’s also now staring at the pink-haired boy with mild interest.

“What do you mean ‘like me and Sukuna’, sweetheart?” You ask curiously, your heart doing a flip.

“You’re like a penguin because you’re really cool and nice and Kuna’s like a seal because he’s a meanie but he’s also cool. I think if seals were more like my big brother, they’d get along with penguins. Like you guys.”

Kids are wild.

You laugh as Yuji explains himself, your tone sitting somewhere between genuine chortles and something to fill a silence that might otherwise be awkward. “Tell me more about your brother being like a seal,” you urge, knowing it’ll ruffle Sukuna’s carefully preened feathers.

Yuji stares up at the clouds in thought. Your arms are beginning to tire, but you’ll hold him as long as you can, even if you know you’re holding up the walking pace. “Ummmm… well, some seals have spots and Sukuna has some on his shoulders, but he’s more stripey, like a tiger-”

“They’re not stripes, brat,” Sukuna hisses, but Yuji continues on without a care in the world.

“- and seals eat a lot and so does Kuna-”

“Alright, I’ve heard enough.”

Undeterred, the little boy continues. “- and apparently seals are really good parents, just like Kuna. I know he’s our brother, but he’s the best parent ever.”

It hits Sukuna like a shot through the chest, piercing clean straight through his heart and leaving behind a bloody hole. His jaw is heavy set as he does what he can to mask the way his little brother’s words affected him. The last thing he needs is a worried twelve-year-old and an ‘i told you so’ from you.

Because it’s then that it strikes him that you’re right.

Time and time again, you prove to him just how much he means to his brothers and each and every time he’s left balancing precariously on a cliff as he does what he can to hide the way his feet damn near betray him at the edge. It’s not like he has any reason to be upset with you over this, but to be known is to be seen, and that’s not something Sukuna’s accustomed to.

He has no issue with being the campus’ mysterious and hot ‘bad boy’, as much as the title serves to make him roll his eyes. It’s little more than a generic title given to him for surface-level facts and rumors.

To have you call him out so clearly, to be so utterly correct time after time when it comes to him and his family… He’s not sure how he feels about that. It stirs something deep within and he grits his teeth as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

Sukuna’s brow is deeply furrowed, his steps falling heavily on the snow-clad sidewalk. Ever observant, of course you caught the way his jaw trembled subtly when he heard his brother, but the moment was gone before you had a chance to consider it. Now, he just looks frustrated, even more so than usual.

It seems the new year brought with it the realization of just how close the court date is, and how horribly underprepared he is.

“Is that so?” You question Yuji, although your gaze never leaves Sukuna, brow knit in concern for him.

“Yeah! He’s the coolest!”

“He is, isn’t he?” You reply softly, shooting a look at Sukuna, who scowls at you both with an expression you can’t place.

You have to set Yuji on the ground fairly soon after, and ask Choso how his day was. The walk is spent listening to both brothers chat about their days as Sukuna is otherwise silent. Arriving at Sukuna’s front door, he tells the kids to head inside and wait for him in the lobby, waiting until they’re two doors away to talk to you.

“Will you be alright?” 

Something akin to offense passes over his eyes. It’s clear that no matter what you do, everything is getting under his skin today, so you think it’s best to leave. Besides, this is something he needs to do on his own.

“I’ll be fine,” he grits, continuing to scowl down at you. Even as frustrated as he is, his gaze softens as he stares past you and realizes you’ll need to walk back to your car on campus. “Email me when you get home,” he mutters, turning on his heel and leaving you standing out in the cold without another word.

Before he can shut the door behind him, you hesitantly take a step forward, catching the edge of the door. “Let me know if you want to talk.”

He stares at you for a split-second, contempt burning behind red irises that has you frowning at him, hurt that he’s been so short with you today. As though he realizes the same, the furrow to his brow lessens and he hums, nodding.

If that’s the most you’ll get out of him, so be it.

He turns back towards the lobby, passing through the second set of doors and following the kids as they lead the way up to the apartment. Choso reaches for Sukuna’s keys and unlocks the door, pushing through the barrier into their home. Yuji immediately goes running off to drop his bag in their room.

“Hey! Once you’re done I need you both back on the couch,” he calls after his little brother, his shoulders so tense it physically pains him to roll them back.

He can see Choso’s unease immediately, eyes wide and worried. Fuck.

Choso timidly sets his bag down in front of the couch and takes a seat at the edge of the cushion, fiddling with his fingers, the nails chewed raw. Sukuna had never noticed his brother developed that habit.

Yuji bounds excitedly to the couch, oblivious to the weighty air in the room. Choso bounces slightly as his little brother hops on the couch and plops down.

With a deep breath, Sukuna kneels down to the boys’ level, glancing between them.

“I heard from your mother,” he starts. Excitement overtakes Yuji’s expression, while Choso stiffens, his gaze anywhere but on Sukuna. “She’ll be in town soon.” He’s beating around the bush, he knows that. But how the hell do you tell two children about a lawsuit?

“Can we see her?” Yuji asks in awe.

“Lemme finish, Yu.” Sukuna takes a seat on the coffee table as his knees begin to get sore. The old wood creaks beneath his weight, not intended to support him, but it does nonetheless. “She wants ya both back.”

Sukuna pauses, letting both boys process his words.

Choso’s lips are pursed, his hands fiddling uncertainly in his lap.

“Like, we’ll all go live with her?” Yuji asks, his head tilting curiously.

Sukuna shudders at the question. If only it were so simple. “No. Just you and Choso.”

“She’s not Kuna’s mom,” Choso mutters.

In truth, Sukuna’s done a bad job of explaining their family to Yuji, making the assumption he’s too young to understand. Maybe he’s right, but it seems Choso’s willing to tell him the portions that Sukuna doesn’t want to touch.

“But… Kuna’s our brother too,” Yuji protests, frowning.

Sukuna sighs, a pang in his heart. “Listen,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, “if she takes you, I won’t get to be a part of your life. If that’s what you want-”

“No!” Yuji cries out, interrupting Sukuna’s question. Choso’s fidgeting hasn’t stopped, but he has yet to say a word.

“Gimme a moment, Yu. If that’s what you want, that’s fine. I’ll let her take ya-”

“Kuna? Why do you keep saying ‘take’?” Choso finally finds his voice, eyes teary as though he already understands.

Sukuna’s lips press into a thin line, his leg bouncing as he contemplates his reply. The coffee table creaks relentlessly beneath him.

“Your mother doesn’t think I’m fit to take care of you. She’s-” he cuts himself off, running his tongue over his teeth in his mouth. “She’s tryna take you back, legally.”

“Legally?” Yuji parrots, his lips pursed.

Sukuna averts his gaze, looking for answers anywhere within the apartment, but he’s met only with a dull silence and Choso’s quiet sniffles. It’s clear he understands, and Sukuna wants nothing more than to assure him that he can win the legal battle, but the bitter truth is that Sukuna doesn’t want to lie to them.

And he’s not so confident that he can win.

“Yu, d’you remember when we watched Mrs. Doubtfire?”

Slowly, the little boy nods.

“D’you remember the part where the mom and dad are in a big room with a judge and he takes away the dad’s custody?”

Yuji blanks, nodding, although it’s clear he still doesn't fully understand.

“Well, custody is who gets to take care of kids. Right now that’s me. She wants it to be her, and neither of us get to decide that. It’s up to the judge,” Sukuna explains, trying as best as he can to offer an unbiased explanation.

“Tell her no!” Yuji cries out.

Sukuna bites down on his cheek, his brow furrowed. “I don’t get to, Yu. She’s forcing me to show up in front of the judge.”

Ever so slowly, Choso stands up off the couch, trailing closer and closer to his older brother until he’s leaning into Sukuna’s side, silent tears trailing down his cheeks and soaking into Sukuna’s shirt. Yuji seems to be starting to understand, now standing at the edge of the couch as he adamantly stands his ground as though the lawsuit is a personal attack to him.

“No! No, I don’t wanna go without you!” He proclaims loudly, his eyes beginning to water.

Sukuna can only frown as he watches the boy grapple with something he doesn’t understand.

“I don’t-” sniffle, “- I don’t wanna!” His tears now freely fall as he barrels at full force into Sukuna as well, crying into his side. He pulls both brothers closer, his exhausted gaze set straight ahead. “Please, Kuna, please!”

The apartment is filled with Yuji’s bawls and babbles, while Choso silently clings to him. The coffee table creaks beneath the three of them with every movement, threatening to give out at any moment.

“I won’t,” sniffle, “go, p- please don’t make me go! I don’t want to,” he sobs, “I don’t want to, I don’t want to!”

Denial after denial, it’s all that fills the apartment for longer than Sukuna knows what to do about.

“I don’t-” a sob wracks Yuji’s tiny body, “- even know her. I don’t remember her,” he bawls. Sukuna squeezes him as an acknowledgement, though he’s not sure what comfort he can offer. “Why can’t you come with us?”

Sukuna bites down harder than intended on his lower lip. “Your mother doesn’t like me, Yu.”

“But you-” he gasps for air between sobs, “- you’re the best.”

The taste of iron fills Sukuna’s mouth as he swipes his tongue over his lips. His chest feels as though it could implode as he tugs his two brothers tighter against him. Yuji tightly grips Sukuna’s hoodie, his little hands tugging with the full force of a five-year-old.

“I’m gonna fight for you both, okay?” He assures.

Choso sniffles, pulling back just enough to look up at his brother. “You want us?”

If Yuji saying he was the best parent earlier was a shot through the heart, this took out whatever was left. The question barreled straight through him like a train, leaving nothing behind but pieces for Sukuna to pick up. Each piece serving as a mistake in the way he’d raised the boys.

He knows all too well that this question comes from a place of insecurity, and while Choso’s mother may have laid the seed, Sukuna watered it. 

It was never intentional, he would never want Choso to feel that way, but Sukuna remembers the moment he likely solidified Choso’s insecurities all-too-well.

Three letters. Seven emails. Forty eight calls.

Make it forty nine.

“Fuck!” Sukuna slams his phone down on the table that was once his father’s.

The house that surrounds them feels foreign without his life.

Choso stares at the wood grain of the table, his eyes tracing the way it swirls. He’s long grown numb to Sukuna’s anger, especially over the past couple of weeks. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word.

He sat alongside Sukuna through each call. Through all fifty nine attempts to reach his mother, each one further solidifying Sukuna’s fate.

Sukuna, barely able to be considered an adult, is a guardian. By all accounts, he’s a parent.

Sukuna, who works for a cannabis dispensary. Sukuna, who never wanted a second family to begin with, who never wanted this responsibility, who never even wanted brothers, let alone kids, now bears the burden of fatherhood.

The legs of his chair scrape the wooden floor as he stands abruptly, running a hand over his face as he paces a small distance from the table.

He makes his way to the sink, turning the faucet to cold water and splashing it over his face. With dripping hands, he grips the edge of the counter and leans over the sink and his stomach churns and bile threatens to upend.

It wouldn’t be the first time since his father had passed away that his stomach had decided to empty itself.

With his jaw slightly ajar and his chest heaving, he pushes a wet hand through his hair, pushing himself back to his full height.

He wipes the water from his face on his sleeve, shaking his head in an effort to free his vision from his hair. His father had been so sick that Sukuna hadn’t had the time, nor the money, to bother with a haircut, or even shaving. His stubble, that of a boy barely considered an adult, is still uneven and leaves him looking as disheveled as he feels.

His eyes trail the length of the kitchen, which morphs into the living and dining room area, until they land on Choso.

The healthcare system had taken every last penny his father had left behind, and without the support of Choso and Yuji’s mother, he’s at a loss of where to go from here. Even disregarding money, he had to look up how to change a diaper. How sad is that? Looking up Youtube tutorials on what to do?

It’s not like he hadn’t looked after his brothers before, but his father never left him alone long enough to need to worry about that sort of thing. Now it seemed that changing a diaper was the least of his problems.

He teetered constantly somewhere between pissed off and lost and had no one to fall back on, something that became painfully obvious when he’d contemplated going to the hospital when his chest tightened so much that breathing was a forced effort. In the end, he’d been able to do little more than clutch desperately at his chest as he laid on the floor of the bathroom, the cool tile the only reprieve from his lonely agony.

He could reach out to Toji. Hell, he should. But when his father got sick, Sukuna pushed him away. He pushed everyone away. He thinks he’s more comfortable alone now, even if that leaves him staring at his little brother without a clue of what to do.

Choso hasn’t said a word to him since the whole ordeal occurred. The grief had taken its toll on Sukuna’s body and attitude, but it had completely silenced his brother. Although he still stuck around Sukuna, somehow still wanting to be around the grief and anger-stricken man, he never said a word.

The oldest brother cares. He cares a whole lot about his two siblings. Even if this isn’t what he ever wanted, even if he wasn’t prepared to handle the burden of two young kids. Even if he didn’t want siblings to begin with, Sukuna grew to care.

It doesn’t change the fact that he’s filled with contempt towards their mother for shoving the two boys onto him like this.

As he stares at Choso, a stark contrast to himself and their baby brother who both resemble their father, he sees her staring back at him. Choso and Yuji’s mother.

He shouldn’t have done what he did next.

He should have thought about his reactions.

He would change everything about how he acted towards his little brother in a heartbeat if he could.

But Sukuna, mentally, was on another plane as his lip curled in disdain. “Won’t fuckin’ answer,” he mutters, more to himself although he looks straight at his brother. “Some fuckin’ mother you’ve got, kid.”

As if on cue, Yuji begins crying from another room.

“Fuck!” Sukuna cries out again, trudging angrily across the kitchen to the toddler’s room.

Just in time to make sure he doesn’t see Choso’s tears.

Sukuna’s sure that moment replays in the boy’s head constantly. He sees it every once in a while, the seed of doubt that Sukuna watered that day, along with every other day before and following. He would give anything to take back how he acted. But what the hell does one expect from your stereotypical troubled teen who doesn’t know how to cook, hardly cleans, and has no one to talk to?

What the hell was Sukuna meant to do when he’d thrown up the previous night’s dinner and laid on the floor until he woke up in a sickening daze early the next morning to Yuji crying?

He hopes, prays, to whatever god on earth will listen, that he can make up for it. Make up for all the mistakes, all the problems. Make up for the ways he’d failed his brothers.

“I do, Cho,” he answers, the first certain thing he’s managed to say since they’d arrived home. “Promise.”

Choso’s grip tightens as his face collides with Sukuna’s side so hard he thinks the poor kid’s gonna bruise his nose.

“I love you, Kuna.” Choso’s voice is so quiet that Sukuna hardly makes out what he said over his little brother’s sobs.

Yuji parrots the middle brother, though his words come out a choppy mess behind his tears. “I- love-” sniffle, “- y- you, Kunaaa.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he gruffs, grimacing. He stares at the couch, his eyes flickering between the three indentations that have formed over the last three years. The material is significantly more worn on his side of the couch, the least worn in the center where Yuji likes to sit. In the back of his mind, something akin to guilt rears its ugly head and he continues his thought before he says something he regrets.

Or, more specifically, before he doesn’t say something and regrets it.

“Love ya both too.”

–

It takes a long time, but Sukuna manages to quiet both brothers down. As a treat, he buys them chicken from Strip Joint, which they were about as thrilled as two devastated young kids could be.

He’s not sure exactly how soundly they’ll manage to sleep, but he’s thankful when Yuji passes out fairly easily after a long afternoon of relentless tears.

Shutting his door behind him, Sukuna sighs as he’s finally able to catch his breath for what feels like the first time today.

He collapses onto his bed against the headboard, running his hands over his face.

Pulling his hands back, he stares at his palms, warm and wet.

Tears.

Is he so worn thin that he can’t even feel his own tears?

Shit.

He wipes his tears on the sleeve of his poor hoodie, which is covered in Yuji’s tears, snot, and spit, Choso’s tears, and now Sukuna’s too.

He pulls it up over his head, pushing his hair back out of his face. It’s getting long again, but Sukuna doesn’t have the time to deal with it.

He hopes to god that his previous transgressions from all those years ago don’t repeat themselves simply because Sukuna’s at wit’s end.

He scratches uncomfortably at his chest, desperate for a shower, anything to take his mind off of the shitty day he’s had. Undressing, he wraps a towel around his waist and walks down the hall to climb into the shower, splaying his hands on the tiles as hot water runs over his body, cleaning him of the dirt and grime that plagues his body, alongside some of the tension in his muscles.

He blinks his eyes open as water trails down his hair, falling in a steady stream down his chin.

The day feels like a blur.

His chest tightens as his muscles relax, a familiar feeling that he fears will leave him laying on the bathroom floor again.

It hasn’t been that bad in years. He didn’t think it would ever be that bad again.

Pushing himself up, he runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back and wiping water from his eyes as he finishes showering. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he slips back into his room, inhaling sharply as his chest seems to compress against his lungs.

Too tired to bother with the outside world, he slips under the covers without a second thought. He doesn’t bother to check if you made it home safe. He doesn’t bother to set out his clothing for tomorrow. He doesn’t even bother to set an alarm. He simply shuts his eyes and hopes to god that he can get a full night’s rest.

Unfortunately, that’s not in the books for Sukuna.

–

Much to your dismay, you don’t see Sukuna again until Friday, four days later. It took him nearly twenty four hours to get back to your message about being home, or the subsequent one the following day upon realizing he wasn’t at lunch, nor in class.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Tuesday, 5:29 PM im fine. cho didnt sleep. been a long day

You had grimaced and offered condolences, but at the end of the day, you suppose there isn’t much more you can do when he’s not looking for help.

That doesn’t mean Shoko didn’t have to drag you out to the mall and convince you not to show up at his door regardless. Thankful for her distraction, you indulged in getting yourself a new sweater and celebrated the fact that oh my god, your history prof from last semester was suspended for his (terrible) teaching methods?? If only the school had done that one semester earlier.

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t be nearly as close with Sukuna if that were the case.

Maybe that would have been for the best.

But the tightness in your heart tells you otherwise as you sit alone in your Literature History class.

It’s funny, that without Sukuna’s distraction beside you, you’re somehow finding it harder to focus without him in the chair beside you. Absently typing at your keyboard, you stare at the screen, your eyes trailing the notes you’ve been taking. They mostly make sense, but your brain must be working on autopilot, because you haven’t processed a single word the professor said.

Rubbing the crease between your brows, you do your best to tune in, chewing on your lower lip and narrowing your eyes as if it’ll do you any good.

The door at the front of the class loudly swings open and Sukuna barges in without a word, trudging straight up to your seat with his hoodie up.

“Class started twenty minutes ago, Ryomen.”

From your angle, you see the snarl on his face, you see the way he practically whips towards her with a world of stress in his eyes and the anger to match. But whether he chooses to take the high road, or simply decides it isn’t worth it, he manages only a measly “yeah. Whatever.”

He should consider himself lucky he isn’t sent away for that, but with only a disappointed grimace, the professor chooses to carry on.

“You’re here,” you whisper, as quietly as you can manage so as not to get him in further trouble.

He sighs. “Finally managed to get them to class today.”

“They haven’t been going to school?”

“Couldn’t get ‘em to,” he mutters, keeping his head low behind his laptop screen as he slumps back in his seat.

You glance at him, a sympathetic frown adorning your lips, but you keep quiet to avoid getting called out by the professor again. Sukuna keeps unusually quiet and withdrawn throughout the entirety of class, packing up as quickly as he came.

He’s on his feet and charging down the stairs before you have so much as a moment to with him.

“Ryomen! A word.”

You watch with dismay as Sukuna whips around angrily to the professor, grumbling out a less-than-thrilled “what?” as he reaches the last step near the door. “Make it quick. I got somewhere to be.”

You grit your teeth, watching with horror as the professor’s brow raises in disbelief at Sukuna’s attitude.

“Mr. Sukuna, if you don’t want to be here, you’re more than welcome to drop my class. You’ve made it very clear that this is not your priority, and-”

Sukuna drops his bag to the ground with a thud, as the students who haven’t already slipped out, including yourself, all watch the interaction in trepidation. “Yeah, you could say it’s not,” he growls. “I got other shit going on.”

“I can sympathize with that,” the professor replies. You have to applaud her patience with the man. “However, I have a class to teach. Whether you choose to show up or not is on you, however I’ll ask that you please don’t distract other students by arriving late.”

Sukuna’s jaw clenches, visibly biting his tongue to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret. “Yeah. Sure,” he dismisses, turning to grab his bag. He slings it over his shoulder and slams the door ajar with his shoulder, barging out without another word.

You traverse down the stairs and chase after him, jogging to catch up to his long strides.

“Sukuna!” You call just before falling into step with him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he hisses, shooting you a glare. He falters when your expression recoils appropriately to his prickly reply. Sighing, he runs a hand down his face. “I’m fine,” he repeats, less edge to his tone this time.

“Oh. Okay. Um, are you still good to meet with Kento and his friend?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, clipped.

“That’s good,” you agree, nodding as you search for common ground, something Sukuna might be a bit more receptive to. “Did you want company while you pick up Choso and Yuji?”

He casts you a glance, his expression unreadable. “Up to you.”

He’s not making this easy.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing how they’re doing.”

He doesn’t even bother with a reply this time, he simply shrugs.

“Okay, um, I’ll come with you then,” you mumble hesitantly, gauging his reaction, but he remains silent, pulling ahead to walk in front of you as he heads for the doors and turns in the direction of his brothers’ school.

The silence no longer carries a familiar warmth, or even the relative discomfort from earlier in the week. It hangs over you like a fog now, uncertainty tucked within its blanket. Sukuna hardly seems to notice you’re there, never turning to acknowledge you nor straying off his path. Each time you contemplate talking, the words die in your throat at the sight of his tense jaw.

At least it’s warmer today than it was on Monday.

Standing at Sukuna’s side as you arrive at the school, you quietly examine his face. His eyes are sunken and heavy and his shoulders hunched as though the weight of his burdens are hardly being held up anymore. His eyes are glazed in a way that tells you his dismissive attitude towards you is because he isn’t all there, not present even within his own body.

Clearly the talk with his brothers has had adverse effects not only on them, but him as well.

Hesitantly, you reach out in hopes to ground him, setting a hand near his wrist, where the tips of your fingers graze his skin as they breach the edge of his sleeve. His eyes sharpen as he stares down at the contact of your hand.

Sukuna is accustomed to the way that your skin always seems to sear him. He’s chalked it up all this time to lust, but as the contact of your skin, so soft and gentle, just barely brushes his, he second-guesses himself for a split-second. As if on auto-pilot, he can only watch as he pulls his hand from his coat pocket, flipping it to brush the tips of his fingers against yours. Offering a comfort he isn’t familiar with, one that keeps him present, he fiddles with your fingers as you simply observe his face.

“Are you okay, Kuna?” You keep your voice low, your tone gentle as you take a step towards him, letting him run his thumb over your knuckles as he pleases.

It takes a moment, but he meets your gaze, really meets your gaze, for the first time today. His eyes fall again to your hand as he avoids your question. “They didn’t take it well.”

You nod slowly. “I didn’t think they would,” you admit with a tight-lipped smile. “The nightmares…?”

“None of us have slept.”

“I…” You grimace. “Can tell.” You gently squeeze the tips of his fingers that continue to fiddle with yours.

His chest rumbles in something akin to a laugh, though it lacks humor. “I figured goin’ back to school would do ‘em good, maybe help with sleeping. Cho wasn’t thrilled.”

“He’ll be alright,” you assure Sukuna, the school bell sounding from behind you. His fingers pause for a moment, before he drops his hand back to his side.

Yuji is one of the first kids out the door. He seems to be managing, although his usual energy is certainly dulled. He runs at full force straight into Sukuna, who picks him up with ease as the child clings to him.

“Missed you, Kuna.”

Sukuna hums, gently nudging the boy with his shoulder. “Look who’s here.”

Yuji lifts his head, flipping it around until his gaze finds you. He calls your name happily, though it’s still dulled from the usual excitement that surrounds him. His arms reach for you and Sukuna plops him down on the snow to let him run straight for you.

“Hey sweetheart,” you greet, kneeling before him to let him hug you. Reeling back, you gently brush his hair from his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” He pouts, shaking his head. His hair falls back over his forehead again, so you brush the stray pink strands from his eyes once more. “I miss my brother.”

“Hey,” you coo softly. “He’s not letting you go, honey. We’re going to meet one of my friends for some advice, okay?”

Yuji’s head tilts. “Huh? Advice for Cho?”

You mirror him, brow furrowed. “What’s going on with Cho?”

“He doesn’t wanna play anymore,” Yuji pouts, staring down at the snow under his little feet as he rocks side to side. His little cheeks are red, whether from the cold or unshed tears, you aren’t sure.

With a grunt of effort, you pull the little boy into your arms. He clings to you, burying his head into the crook of your neck as you turn to his older brother. “Is Choso okay?” You query, concerned.

“I’ll let you judge for yourself.”

You turn to the door where Choso emerges, his appearance ghostly. His movements are mechanical as he makes his way up to you and Sukuna. He shoots a glance up to you, but doesn’t acknowledge you otherwise, staring blankly off to the side as he waits for Sukuna to lead the way.

“Hey, Choso.”

Silence.

You frown, precariously balancing Yuji in one arm to reach down and gently run a hand over Choso’s hair. He blinks a few times, meeting your gaze. Although the boy traditionally looks tired, his eyes are devoid of warmth. He’s running on empty, completely gassed, and you can understand suddenly why all three of them had no desire to show up to classes.

“You know what I think this day calls for?” You shouldn’t be shocked to find that none of the three brothers reply, but Sukuna at the very least gives you his attention. “How do you three like cinnamon buns?”

“I like them,” Yuji mumbles into your shoulder, gripping your coat.

Well, at least one of them will give you an answer. If that’s the best you can get, you’ll take it.

“Great! You can get whatever treats you’d like, alright?”

Your enthusiasm is met with silence. This is one of those moments where it becomes glaringly obvious who raised the two boys.

Simply to fill the silence, you inquire with Yuji how his day went, plopping him onto the ground when he becomes too heavy to carry. He gingerly reaches for your hand, squeezing it as he talks about his day and a book his class has begun to read.

Yuji begins to drag your hand, falling further and further behind as he grows tired, practically trying to clamber onto your back as you stop to wait for a crosswalk.

Taking notice, Sukuna reaches down to pick up his little brother. “C’mere,” he mumbles as he lifts the child over his head until he’s sitting soundly on the man’s shoulders. You smile softly at the sight. They may not share a mother, but you’d hardly believe it. They’re like twins, only born several years apart.

Yuji idly tugs at Sukuna’s hair as he sits atop the man’s shoulders, a good six feet taller than where he usually stands. His older brother swats at his hands with a grimace, staring ahead as the boy settles and leans his torso on the back of Sukuna’s head.

You keep an eye on Choso, who begins to trail behind the closer you get to the cafe. You’re a good thirty minutes early, but you don’t think it’s a particularly good idea to have the kids listening into the legal discussion either way, so this will give you a chance to grab a table just for them.

Sukuna ducks as he walks into the cafe, ensuring he doesn’t smack his brother’s head on the doorframe, while you trail behind to wait for Choso. When his eyes meet your feet in front of him, they slowly trail up until he finds your gaze. It twists your heart, to see how blankly he stares at you.

“Hey honey. If you don’t want to talk, that’s totally fine, but I just want you to know I’m here.”

His eyes flicker between yours.

Kneeling down to his height, you smile softly. “Do you remember when you found that paperwork and I told you that your brother would talk to me if he needed help?”

Choso blinks a couple of times, and for a moment, you think that’s the most you’ll get from him, but he finds it in himself to nod.

“Well, he did come to me for help. We’re gonna meet my friends at the cafe in a bit and they’re gonna help your brother. He’s fighting for you. We’ll figure things out, okay?”

He nods again, taking a meager step forward before finding his way into your arms. You hug him back tightly and rub his back.

“Thank you.” It’s quiet and hoarse, you can tell he hasn’t spoken in a while. But it’s a step forward, and you’ll take it.

A knock on the glass grabs your attention and you pull back a bit to look up at the cafe window above you. The picture of stoicism, Sukuna stares down at you from within, pointing behind him with his thumb.

‘Got us a table,’ he mouths through the glass, before turning back towards the interior. You don’t catch a word he says, narrowing your eyes as you try to make out what he’s trying to tell you.

“He got a table.” Choso mumbles, the tiniest hint of a smile on his face as you turn back to him.

“Is he, like- really bad at that?” You ask, smirking as you point a thumb in the direction where Sukuna was moments ago.

Choso nods, his smile turning up sliiiiightly more.

“And here I thought it was just me,” you grin, standing back up and leading the way to the back of the cafe where Sukuna’s got two tables reserved, one with four seats, and a smaller one with two. He must be on the same wavelength as you, having deliberately chosen a table with enough distance to keep the conversation private, while still having the kids nearby.

He pulls a stack of very ripped and wrinkled papers from his bag, setting them face down on the table as Choso crawls into a tall chair beside his brother. With an arched brow, you set your hand on the paperwork as you take a seat beside him, asking a silent question.

“You can read ‘em if you want.”

Flipping them, your eyes first skim the tape that holds each page together, then the contents themselves.

“What happened to them?”

“I was pissed.”

Clearly. But you keep that thought to yourself. You skim the contents of the legal documents, nails tapping against the faux wood grain table rhythmically.

Case No. 2493

Social File No. 34785-98

Next Court Date: March 23rd.

In The Matter of Choso Itadori and Yuji Itadori.

Turns out, it only takes four sentences before you’re frowning at the page, the legal jargon a little bit beyond you. Of course, it’s not entirely illegible and you’re thankful you’re an English literature major, but the jurisdiction codes and notes are a bit beyond any English diploma.

“This is… a lot.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Sukuna mumbles, glancing at his watch. “We got some time, you want anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks Kuna.” Keeping your head buried in the paperwork as you try to dissect an ounce of what the documents say, you chew on your lip as Sukuna drags his brothers to the counter before stepping off to the side to await his order.

With your head down and brow furrowed in documents, you don’t notice Kento standing opposite you with a decently sized box from your parents.

“Good afternoon,” Kento greets you, punctuating the sentence with your name. Your head whips up with a smile as you greet the two men. Standing beside Kento is another tall man with tousled short brown hair, sunken eyes, and a prominent nose. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, with a blazer over top, which is about what you would imagine a law student wears. “This is Higuruma,” he introduces the man.

“Hiromi is fine,” he chuckles, surprisingly informal for someone leaning in to extend his hand to you.

Shaking his hand, you flash him a grin. “Nice to meet you,” you greet him, imparting your name. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this.”

“It’s not a problem,” Hiromi chuckles kindly, taking a seat kitty cornered from you while Kento sits across from you. Hiromi has an air of tiredness about him that’s not entirely dissimilar to that of Sukuna.

Sukuna returns just in time, a tray of cups held high above the ground to prevent a certain young boy from dangling off his arm and spilling them.

That same young boy happens to be dangling off his other arm, though it hardly seems to weigh the man down as he easily holds both the boy and the bag of treats up. He mumbles something to Choso as he sets the tray down, making a motion for the boy to look in his backpack.

Kento and Hiromi watch in barely-masked shock as Sukuna gently directs the kids to a smaller table in the corner, handing them the bag of sweets and a cup of hot chocolate each. Choso tucks a couple of coloring books and markers beneath his elbow as well as they leisurely make their way to the little table in the corner.

With a heavy, tired, sigh, Sukuna takes a seat beside you, pulling the last two cups out and setting one in front of himself and one in front of you.

“Oh, I don’t-”

Ignoring you outright, Sukuna speaks up. “Woulda gotten you both somethin’ but I don’t know your orders,” he gruffs to the two men opposite him, his jaw tightening at the painfully obvious shock and hint of guilt that gleams in Kento’s eyes.

“That’s… Quite alright,” Kento clears his throat, introducing Hiromi and Sukuna to one another before passing you the box of belongings your parents had sent with him. Hiromi extends his hand again, though Sukuna’s not so eager to take it. It’s all a bit formal for him.

“So, I assume this has to do with legal questions,” Hiromi chuckles wryly as you take a sip of your drink.

Your exact order.

Sukuna remembered.

Sukuna hums, sliding the papers across the table without a word. Hiromi coughs once at the sight of the ripped papers, stifling a laugh at the unsightly state of them. It fades almost immediately as his eyes trace the Times New Roman that litters the page.

With a sigh, he runs a hand through his hair, leaning over the table.

“Right. Before we start, I need to make something clear. What I’m doing right now is illegal as a student, so you can’t breathe a word that I was here,” he states firmly, hollowed eyes flickering between the both of you.

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” Sukuna mumbles, amusement pricking the edge of his tone.

Hiromi glances back at the kids, catching his meaning. “They’re yours, then? Legally, I mean?”

“Yeah.”

Hiromi sighs again, nodding. “I see. Give me a moment to read these.”

“In the meantime, can I get you both something to drink?” You ask politely.

“Coffee, black, please,” Hiromi replies, leaning over the table on his elbow as he tilts the first page read over a rip, casting the glare on the tape elsewhere.

“That will be fine for myself as well, thank you,” Kento smiles kindly. He waits until you’re out of earshot to speak to Sukuna while Hiromi reads. “She cares about you a great deal, you know.”

A muscle in Sukuna’s jaw ticks. He had a feeling this was coming, though he’d hoped you simply wouldn’t leave his side. He can only avoid his mistakes so long, it seems.

“She’s a good friend.”

Kento’s reaction gives nothing away, his observant expression looking for a break in Sukuna’s aloof features, any sign that he’s the shallow asshole Kento had taken him for. When he doesn’t find it, he nods slowly.

“She is. She deserves that same treatment back.”

Sukuna’s lip twitches, bordering on a snarl that he only holds back out of courtesy of the blonde doing him a favor. “I’m aware.”

Kento sighs, his posture relaxing in his seat as Sukuna bites his tongue, matching Kento’s sigh with a striking glare. “Listen, I believe that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, and given how close she is to both of us, I’d prefer to be on friendly terms.”

“Mm.”

Gathering that Sukuna isn’t one for words, Kento continues. “I see now that there are…” he pauses, his eyes sliding to the right where the two kids are quietly coloring. “Extenuating circumstances behind what happened and I may have misdirected my anger. So, I apologize.”

Sukuna quietly observes Kento’s surprisingly sincere apology, nodding slowly. “I appreciate you lookin’ out for her.”

Sukuna doesn’t exactly verbally accept the apology, but that’s not uncharacteristic of him. Besides, he can’t exactly hold a grudge against the man who’s helping him in a legal battle. 

“Of course. Let it be known, however, that if you hurt her again, I will not take it so lightly.” Kento adds grimly.

Sukuna huffs. “‘Course.”

“Great.” Kento extends a hand as an act of good will.

“Can we cut the formalities? They aren’t really my deal.”

Kento cracks a smile, nodding. “Sure, Sukuna.”

The sounds of the cafe make for a relatively comfortable silence in spite of Hiromi’s obvious discomfort of the conversation happening over his head. The sounds of the coffee machines, clinking of glasses, and slamming of fridges help to make the environment a little easier on the three men.

“Alright,” you plop down in your chair once more, “two black coffees.”

Both men thank you as you settle beside Sukuna.

“How are the kids?” You quietly ask, leaning back to glance at them.

Sukuna shrugs. “Coloring Spider-Man probably. They seem fine.”

“Alright,” Hiromi taps the stack of unkempt papers against the table, grabbing a pen from the pocket of his blazer and a stack of sticky notes from his pocket. Somehow that’s just so law student that you find yourself with a lopsided smile as you watch. “I’ll need a bit of extra info, can I ask some questions?”

Sukuna slides back in his chair, grimacing to hide his disdain for needing to share his personal life. “Shoot.”

“Right. So, I’ll need the relationships of everyone involved in their lives. Parents, grandparents, and siblings.” He positions his pen to take notes.

Sukuna, begrudgingly as ever, sighs. “Kaori and Jin Itadori are their parents, Jin passed away three or so years ago,” he begins, his leg tapping beneath the table. You’ve noticed he seems to do that whenever the subject of his father comes up around people he isn’t comfortable with. “I’m their half-brother. Father’s side.”

Hiromi nods, writing away with his pen.

“No family remaining on the father’s side apart from myself. They got an uncle and aunt on the mother’s side, as well as a grandfather, I got no contact or names for any of ‘em.”

Hiromi glances up, his eyes sliding towards you. “And your girlfri-”

“We’re friends. She looks after ‘em sometimes,” Sukuna interrupts, keeping his gaze straight ahead. You’re grateful he does, your cheeks absolutely alight with heat. Pulling your hands politely into your lap, you fiddle with your fingers.

Sensing he may have hit a sore subject, Hiromi scratches the back of his neck. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, returning to his notes. “Right. How’d you end up with custody to begin with?”

“Their mother moved for a job before Yuji turned one. When I reached out when our father passed away, she didn’t respond.” Sukuna keeps his replies short and simple, only divulging what he needs to.

Hiromi pauses for a brief moment to stare at Sukuna, as if in disbelief. Kento’s expression matches, but he quickly clears his throat to keep the conversation going. “And the contact with their uncle and aunt? Grandfather?”

“They ain’t my family. I don’t have contact. Lawyers tried, no answer.” He shrugs.

Hiromi jots down more notes, pointing the back of his pen towards Sukuna. “That’s good for you, by the way.”

Sukuna nods slowly, though he’s unable to let his guard down regardless.

“What methods of contact did you use?”

Hiromi clicks his pen a number of times and Sukuna crosses his arms over his chest. “Email, mail, and phone.”

“Was she in communication before Jin passed?” Hiromi queries, leaning over his notes.

Sukuna pauses, narrowing his eyes in thought. “I think so. I don’t have Jin’s phone anymore.”

Hiromi hums, scratching his jaw as he takes down notes. “I see. Are the kids…” he pauses, swinging the end of his pen in the direction of their table, “aware of this?”

Sukuna visibly tenses. “Yeah.”

Gingerly, you slide your leg closer until it’s sidled next to him. Although he doesn’t react, his bouncing leg slows to a halt, as does the subtle shaking of the table. You smile to yourself that you’re able to bring him the comfort he stubbornly refuses to ask for.

“Did she come to you first before sending these over?” Hiromi asks, making a motion towards the legal documents.

Sukuna shakes his head.

“Right. That should do it for the petitioner’s side,” Hiromi hums, tapping the back of his pen against his notes. “Let’s talk about you and your brothers.”

“My favorite subject,” Sukuna grumbles.

Hiromi offers a sympathetic smile. “I get it, believe me. I’m a pretty private person, too. Now, what’s your major?”

“History.”

Hiromi’s brow raises. He seems somewhat surprised, though he doesn’t voice it. “Got anything lined up for when you graduate?”

“No.”

“I assume you’re working as well.”

Sukuna grits his teeth, fed up with the overly personal questions. “Yeah. I’m a mechanic and I stock shelves.”

Hiromi leans on his arm as he jots that down. “You’re a busy guy,” he mumbles, met with Sukuna’s glare at the unhelpful commentary. Hiromi seems unphased, chuckling. “Sorry, my bad. Do you own or rent?”

“I rent an apartment.”

“Three bedroom?”

“Two.”

“Got it. Alright,” he sighs, running both hands through his hair and leaning back in his chair until it’s precariously balancing on the back two legs. With a thud, the chair slams down onto the floor. “Sounds like a fairly standard case. There’s a number of things here that’ll work in your favor, but-” he pauses, wording his statement carefully. “Trying to win a guardianship case against their biological mother isn’t something I would call easy.”

Sukuna nods.

“Let’s go over the basics. She’s trying to claim them as her right as their mother, but she’s also claiming you’re unfit for guardianship on two counts, lack of funds and irresponsibility. That means you’ll need to prove otherwise on both counts, while also convincing them that the right place for the kids is with you,” Hiromi states, shuffling the opening page aside to briskly scan the second page. “At the end of the day, the judge will choose what’s right for the kids. The mother will have a bit of a leg up on you since she won’t have to fight any claims of ill-doing.”

Sukuna frowns. That doesn’t exactly bode well for him.

“You’ve got some good things going for you, though. You should have a record or be able to pull a record of your contact with her. Having two jobs, although not ideal, has its merits as well. Your brothers are clearly both healthy and I assume you’ve kept them in school as well and you’ve had them for three years now, that’s a strong argument.”

“There’s a ‘but’ somewhere here,” Sukuna frowns.

“There… is,” Hiromi agrees, running another hand through his tousled hair and disheveling it further. He leans forward, picking up the stack of legal papers. “I’m assuming the reason she took a job overseas in the first place is for money. She’s paying for a good lawyer,” he points out, setting the paper back down on the table and sliding towards Sukuna. “They’re expensive for a reason, and they’re not just the best in the city. They have national renown.”

Your heart sinks at the sound of that. “So, pro-bono…?”

“It’s certainly an option,” Hiromi avoids your gaze as he replies, something that doesn’t sit well with you. “Legal clinics and pro-bono are meant more for standard cases-”

“You said this was standard,” Sukuna contains his growl, his voice strained. His leg presses hard against yours, his anger contained with all the strength of a bottle cap.

“It is, on paper. The problem here that I’m concerned about is her choice of lawyers.” He taps his pen on his notes as Sukuna drags his hands over his face in exasperation. “They aren’t… exactly known for losing.”

“Fucking... Just fucking great,” Sukuna gripes, leaning over the table on heavy shoulders. He downs what’s left of his coffee, pressing a thumb into the crease between his brows.

“I would be willing to bet that she purposely chose to spring this on you before the kids are old enough to testify.”

“Choso isn’t old enough…?” You query with a frown.

Hiromi slides the legal papers back towards himself, looking over the listed birth date. “No, he’s one year off, and even if he was, you would still need to convince them he’s mature enough.”

“Fuck,” Sukuna sighs, his chest tight. “So my odds aren’t good then, are they?”

Hiromi watches his words as he scratches the back of his neck. “Uh, they’re not ideal. I’d say two to one, but not impossible. You do have a lot going for you.”

“What do you think he should do?” You ask softly.

Hiromi sighs. “Your best bet will be to really lean in on the fact that you’ve had them for three years because she never replied. Call your cell carrier and get phone logs if they’ve kept them, grab any copies of letters sent, pull up emails, anything you can to prove you reached out.” Hiromi pauses, setting his pen on the table as he takes a sip of coffee. “Pull up every record you have that proves the kids are in good health. Things like vaccination records will go a long way. If you can get your employers to write letters detailing your work ethic, that’s worthwhile too. Anything to prove you’re fit.”

Great. His employers get to know about his brothers. Everyone gets to see into Sukuna’s personal life.

Just fucking great.

Sukuna leans hard against his hand, roughly rubbing his eyes. “Sure,” he huffs, swinging a hand through the air. “Why the fuck would she be doing this in the first place?” He leans back suddenly, whipping his hand through the air in exasperation. “Three years ago it wasn’t her fuckin’ problem, so what changed?”

Hiromi flips to the third page of the documents. “If I were to guess, she wants the government grants for childcare.” His eyes skim the second paragraph on the page, pausing as he thinks over what legal code the paperwork is recalling. “I assume you get that right now with two dependents.”

“Yeah, it pays my fuckin’ rent. She’s got money, though, what the fuck changed?”

Sukuna’s clearly running out of patience, to no fault of Hiromi’s, but he’s completely unphased by him. Whatever type of law he’s going into, he must be accustomed to this kind of behavior.

With a tight-lipped smile, Hiromi shrugs. “All I can do is guess. I don’t know.”

Sukuna rakes a hand through his hair. “So, what the hell do I do about the pro-bono thing?”

“I have some contacts that I can recommend that might give you a break on the cash side, but yeah. I’d recommend against going the free route. I really don’t think you’ll have a foot to stand on if you do that.”

Sukuna stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the tile flooring. It echoes loudly around the little cafe, pulling all attention towards him, but he pays it no mind. His brow twitches, crimson eyes filled with distress. “How expensive are we talkin’?”

Hiromi frowns sympathetically. “Two months’ rent I’d guess, though they may cut you a break but it’ll depend on how long you spend with them.”

Looking between the kids and Sukuna, you can see the questions rising from them as their brother holds the cafe’s attention. In an effort to keep everyone calm, you brush your fingers gently against Sukuna’s wrist, your nails dragging softly over his wrist tattoo. “Take a seat,” you urge him, pointedly tilting your head towards his little brothers, who are both staring at him with wide eyes.

Sukuna inhales sharply, taking his seat again. “Is that the high or low end of your guess?”

“High,” Hiromi tries to assure him.

“Great,” Sukuna growls, his anger directed at no one in particular.

“Is there anything else we should know?” You query quietly in an effort to keep the conversation from Choso and Yuji.

Hiromi taps his fingers on the table in thought. “I get it, Sukuna, I really do, but you need to have the patience of a god in court.” Sukuna’s teeth grit on instinct. “A judge won’t take kindly to a mouthy defense. Only speak when spoken to. Got that?”

Sukuna scoffs with all the dramatism of a man falling apart at the seams. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“Thank you, Hiromi. This is a huge help, really.”

He offers a kind smile. “It’s no problem, really. But remember, you got this info online or something,” he chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ll have Kento send you some of my contacts.”

“Thank you. And no problem, this was nothing more than a helpful websearch,” you giggle, checking on Sukuna in your peripherals. He’s staring at his little brothers, the sound of clinking metal muffled by his pocket as he opens and shuts his lighter.

You give him a nudge, pulling him back to the present, if only for a moment. “Mm. Thanks, Hiromi.”

Hiromi, clearly sympathetic to what Sukuna’s going through, smiles. “Happy to help. Thanks for the coffee.”

You say your goodbyes and gather the kids’ belongings and the box from your parents, offering Sukuna a ride home. It’s chilly and getting dark, and the last thing you need is for a man not in his right mind to try to walk two scared kids home.

Fuck, what a situation he’s in.

He accepts your offer with a nod, letting you lead the way and chat with the kids as he trails behind.

The ride is quiet. Even by Yuji’s standards, it’s painfully quiet. He points out some street art of a monster with a crown that he likes, but it seems to be the most even the five-year-old can manage. Their whole family is emotionally drained.

Even by your standards, you’re running on empty at this point. There’s only so much emotional strain you can handle and between the concern that had distracted you all week and a long day of walking on eggshells around Sukuna, your social battery is running low too. There’s only so much you can handle when the man in your passenger seat has nestled his way into your heart and left an irreparable hole in which only he could fit.

Your heart can only handle so much distant love.

It became increasingly clear over the past week that his absence was making your heart grow fonder. Although you were apart for a while after Christmas, his continual emails sated the part of you that craved him so desperately. Without that, a chasm opened and swallowed you whole, unable to fight it for even a moment.

Still, even in the bone-weary silence of your car, being surrounded by Sukuna and his sweet little family holds a temporary bandage around the pieces of your heart. It’s flimsy at best, fleeting as it begins to unravel with each disheartening snap and gripe that comes from Sukuna, but you can’t blame him when his entire world is caving in around him.

Hell, you can’t even begin to worry about the pain the squeezes your heart when he’s barely holding it together beside you. Usually the face of stoicism, yet his well-put-together seams are cracking, revealing his facade not just to you, but to everyone.

Sukuna’s door swings open the moment you park as he stumbles on his feet as though your vehicle had been claustrophobic. He sets a large palm on the hood of your car to steady himself, dazed.

Pushing down the uneasy feeling building in your chest, you keep calm as you lift Yuji out of the back seat and watch him run over to Choso, getting on the tips of his toes to whisper something into Choso’s ear.

Rounding the car, you try to grab Sukuna’s attention, the look of helplessness on his face catching you off guard as he makes a point of hiding from his brothers. His grip on your car is unyielding, his knuckles white from the effort of holding himself upright.

“Keys?” You whisper quietly. He blinks a couple of times, his chest rising and falling startlingly quickly as he fumbles in his jacket pocket with his spare hand. “I got it.” Gingerly reaching out, you slip your hand into his pocket, careful to pull out only his keys and not his lighter.

Jogging up to Choso, you smile reassuringly. “I just need to talk to your brother. You two go upstairs for me, okay? Lock the door behind you.”

Choso nods, pausing to peek past you at his older brother. There’s a silent question in his eyes that he won’t voice. Whether that’s a trauma response or that he knows you understand, you can’t say for sure.

“He’s okay, don’t worry sweetheart,” you reassure him, ruffling his hair.

He puts his trust in you with a half-hearted attempt at a smile and grabs Yuji’s hand to lead the way into the building.

The sun has mostly set over the horizon at this point, casting dark purple hues over Sukuna’s tattooed cheeks. He hunches over the hood of your car, leaning his body so heavily over the vehicle that it dips under his weight. He exhales shakily, dragging his hands down his face.

In your best effort to comfort him, you gently rub his back. His muscles are taut beneath the down of his winter coat, his back rising and falling just a bit too quickly for your comfort.

“Sukuna?”

He forces himself upright, raking his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck!” He barks, taking a step away from you to pace along the side of your car. His mind is a jumbled mess and he doesn’t know how to make sense of the thoughts that seem to relentlessly batter him, leaving him with a heaving, tight chest, searing anger, and something he can’t put a name to.

Anxiety.

“Sukuna?” You try again as his pacing grows erratic.

“Fuck, I don’t fucking-” he stammers, fists balling at his sides as he struggles not to launch the closest thing to his hand into the wall. Again. He doesn’t need to break his lighter twice in only a couple of months.

You take a step towards him in an attempt to disrupt his pacing course, but he simply turns on his heel in the other direction.

“That fucking-”

“Sukuna!” You jog around to face him, gripping the open front of his black coat and stopping him abruptly.

“What?” He snarls breathlessly, pulling back against your grip.

You don’t relent, keeping him in place although you know he has the strength to tear himself from you if he wanted.

“Can you breathe, Kuna?”

He tugs against you once more, gripping the top of your vehicle. It’s cold on the pads of his fingers, a sharp contrast to the blazing heat his body is overproducing. He doesn’t, can’t, reply to you, but you don’t need him to, the answer is written plain as day for all to see.

He’s panicking.

He’s spiraling downwards harshly and his anxiety is taking along with it the strong front that Sukuna has worked relentlessly to maintain. His own body is forcibly breaking down the walls he built not only to keep himself safe, but also his brothers.

His body is begging you for the help he’d never ask for, lest he suffer alone.

“It’s okay if you can’t,” you soothe, your voice low and gentle as he leans against your car. “Sit down in the back of my car,” you urge sternly, attempting to tug him towards the back door.

He forcefully pulls back out of your grip. “I’m not my fuckin’ kid brothers, don’t fucking treat me like them,” he hisses, fire swirling beneath the surface of his eyes. It’s a meager attempt to mask his distress.

You frown, unmoving as you contemplate how to help someone who doesn’t want your help. Someone who doesn’t want pity or sympathy, who wants only respect and nothing less.

It doesn’t matter how much respect for him you have when looking back at him he sees only sympathy in your eyes.

“Please, can we talk? It’s cold out here, just sit in the back of my-”

“For fuck’s sake, what the fuck is there to talk about?” He yells, whipping his hand through the air. He reels back, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes. “I can fucking handle things, stop sticking your nose in my damn business,” he hisses in a strained tone, rubbing at his chest in discomfort.

Your eyes trail down to watch the way he clutches at his shirt and pulls the collar from his neck as though it’s choking him, his lips slightly parted as he struggles to breathe. “Sukuna, I know you can handle things. Just listen to me, okay?” His eyes snap to you. “Have you had a panic attack before?”

“I’m not havin’ a fucking panic attack, christ, just- gimme some fuckin’ space,” he backs away from you, walking over to his apartment building’s exterior and rummaging through his jacket pockets in search of cigarettes. He pulls out a small cardboard box, flipping it open with shaky hands and muttering a curse under his breath as he comes up empty. He tosses it at full force into the building, leaning his head against the wall a moment later as his vision grows white at the edges.

“Sukuna,” your tone is firm as you come up behind him. “Please sit.”

By some miracle, he flips until his back can slide down the wall and he’s finally sitting, his gaze fixed nowhere in particular behind you.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you lower yourself down to your knees to sit in front of him. Thank god. Even as the cold snow melts beneath you and seeps into the warmth of your pants, chilling the skin of your knees, you push through. Setting your hands on his forearms, you rub soothing circles into them.

“Here, are your hands cold?” Sliding the tips of your fingers along his arm and raising goosebumps with your touch even through the barrier of his jacket, you gauge the temperature of his hands, nodding to yourself. “They are cold… here-” you lift his hand up to cool the back of his neck, which is overheating even in the below freezing weather. “I think that should feel good.”

It shouldn’t piss him off as much as it does that you’re right. It does help, leaving him completely at your mercy, as Sukuna himself doesn’t understand how to quell this feeling.

“Breathe with me, okay?”

He doesn’t react, but his crimson gaze falls to your chest, studying the rise and fall. You direct him by repeating a gentle “in… and out,” moving your thumb along his arm in time with your own breaths and instructions. He closes his eyes as the pain in his chest eases and he’s able to catch his breath.

Continuing to soothingly run your thumb along his arm, you carefully reach up to brush his sweat-slicked hair from his forehead. He stiffens briefly, but quickly relaxes without bothering to open his eyes.

Your heart twists at the intimacy of the situation, but it’s neither the time nor place to concern yourself with your own emotions.

You can handle the way your own chest tightens as Sukuna’s finger twitches and brushes your wrist, settling against the warmth of your skin.

You don’t dare interrupt the peace, giving him the time he needs to find his grounding. It takes him a few moments, but he moves his hand from the back of his neck, settling it on his knee. His gaze fixes on something in the distance as he takes a long, exhausted breath.

To your surprise, his arm that you’re still rubbing circles into flips and his thumb and fingers wrap around the circumference of your forearm. With a lopsided smile, you squeeze his arm back.

“Talk to me.”

With the sun completely set over the horizon, the only light that illuminates Sukuna’s face is that of the light over his apartment building. It glows faintly, flickering every so often with a golden hue that paints the broken expression on his face in such a way that even in this dire situation, he looks ethereal.

His gaze travels upwards as the light flickers again, the golden hue glimmering against the packed snow beneath your (very cold) knees. “I can’t afford a lawyer,” he mutters shamefully, his brow furrowed.

You contemplate your next words very carefully given Sukuna’s nature. “What can I do?” To help?

“Nothing,” he scoffs, his eyes not leaving the point where his hand connects with your arm. Even with a jacket between you, your presence brings him comfort. “I’ll figure shit out like I always do.”

“You don’t need to do this alone, Kuna.”

The glare he shoots you is sharp. “I can manage.”

“Manage until- until what? You have another panic attack?” Although your tone is still gentle, there’s a prickle to your words.

“I didn’t have a fuckin’-”

“Bullshit!”

Sukuna blinks. He can’t remember if he’s ever heard a curse leave your lips. There’s a fiery determination lit beneath you that he won’t quench with his distilled anger.

“You’re allowed to need help, Sukuna. It doesn’t make you weak.”

His grip on your arm tightens, almost uncomfortably. He doesn’t know how to take your words and his vexation is only growing. “I’ll need to take more shifts,” he mumbles.

“I’m here. If you need someone to watch the kids,” you offer.

His chest rises and falls heavily as he exhales slowly. As if coming to some sort of conclusion, he frowns. “You’re too kind, princess.” His tone is uncharacteristically weak and painfully distant. He squeezes your arm once, before dropping it to pull himself up off the ground. He brushes snow from his pants and coat and picks up the empty cigarette box crumpled on the ground. “I’m gonna head inside.” His gaze turns down to your knees as you follow suit and stand before him. “Go warm up and dry off.”

“Are you sure you don’t need-”

“I’m fine.” He assures you, turning towards the door without so much as a goodbye, but he thinks twice on this and pauses before he can enter his building. He examines your frown as he fights an internal debate. His sharp gaze traces your movements as you swipe your tongue over your lower lip and bite down on it.

He’s caught up on a strange inkling in his mind that doesn’t really make sense to him, but he gives pause to it.

Your lips look like a goddamn invitation. He’s not thinking about your body, or the way your skin sears him when you brush his hand. It’s something entirely else that he wants to act on, and all you’re doing is standing there, the picture of uncertainty as you fiddle with your fingers and chew on your lips.

Your god forsaken lips.

“Sukuna?” You meekly question, tilting your head.

He swears you could have the world if you truly wanted with just a tilt of your head.

It’s a shame Sukuna knows he doesn’t belong in your world. You’re too kind, you always have been. You’re like the syrup they drizzle over cheesecake, or the decorative sprinkles that top that shitty whipped cream that bakeries love to use. The sugar-free kind that doesn’t quite taste right and you’re not sure why they even bother with it, so they add the sweetest sprinkles to compensate.

Once again, Sukuna thinks about how you’re the sun, and he’s nothing more than a distant star sputtering out on the horizon. He doesn’t consider that every star is a sun to someone else.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Was just thinkin’. Thanks for organizing today, gave me a lot to work with.”

And with that, he’s pushing through the door before you can even tell him that he’s welcome.

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❦ a/n ; OOPS ALMOST 18K CHAPTER. honestly it just didn't feel right to end it before the discussion with higuruma and sukuna's reaction to it, so here we are. forgive me for the angst :((( i love these babies sm and it physically hurt to put them through this 😭 the support for this series has been so overwhelmingly lovely and heartwarming, i really can't thank you all enough. seriously, y'all are the sweetest and the comments and asks i've received about this series brighten my day every single time 🫶 anyway, ily all and i'm sorry 😭

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

@yenayaps @rinachains @aiicpansion @fushitoru @gojoscumslut

@hellish4ever @kasukuna @theonlyhonoredone @catobsessedlady @timetoletmyimaginationfly

@clp-84 @coffee-and-geto @candyluvsboba @favvkiki @gojodickbig

@spindyl @ohmykwonsoonyoung @kyo-kyo1 @officialholyagua @coldluminarykoala

@ieathairs @cinnamxnangel @nessca153 @aerareads @after-laughter-come-tears

@tillaboo @thepassionatereader @erencvlt @v1sque @a-girl-with-thoughts

@lauuriiiz @blueemochii @paradisestarfishh @erenxh @call-me-doll8811

@toulouse365 @dabieater @janrcrosssing @satsattoru @moonchhu

@privthemis @captainsarcasmandsass @ryomeowie @vitoshi @kunasthiast

@axxk17 @toratsue @bluestbleu @yuji-itadori-fave @totallygyomeiswife

writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

[with-my-calamitous-love]

OCEAN BLUE EYES / I FEEL LIKE I MIGHT SINK AND DROWN AND DIE ༄

ua! touya todoroki x ua! reader headcanons <3

inspired by gorgeous

- villain touya is a ruthless, cold-hearted maniac. ua, hero-in-training touya is just a prick.

- he’s the kind of student that skips class religiously, but somehow gets amazing grades. he’ll give attitude to anything with legs, including you, but somehow pass every test. he’s also unreasonably competitive, joining about every sports he can make the time for.

- becoming friends with him was inevitable, giving his magnetic field being just a little too strong. at first, he should have taken it as a compliment the way you’d talk to everyone in the room but him. he’s unreasonably gorgeous without even knowing it.

- he’s an asshole, but he’s also funny. he’s the kind of guy that just knows what to say, so fucking cool it makes you hate him so fucking much. he has you feeling like a dumb high school student with a dumb high school crush. because you are.

- little do you know, that feeling is mutual. you’re ruining his life by not being his.

- on the outside, he’s smart, strong, and a great student. on the inside, he’s still got those same battles you’d come to know him for.

- he’s in ua, yes. he’s becoming a hero, yes. but he still wonders if it’ll measure up to what his father wants. sometimes he wonders if he’s doing it for himself, or for the bastard back at home. and though half the reason he’s in ua is to rebel against and piss off his father, he also wonders if he can at least be acknowledged by him.

- during training, he’s thinking about his worth. in class, he’s thinking about who he is. every waking moment spent at school, at home, or alone, he’s terrified of being nothing more than a failure.

- the only time he doesn’t feel like that is with you. which is why he’s so furious when he can’t say anything to your face. how dare you make him feel this way?

- he does the unthinkable, and goes to his mom for advice.

- “touya, you obviously like them.”

- “SHUT THE FUCK UP! sorry, love you.”

- its then you learn more about who he is, beyond just who he’s trying to be. you learn he loves winter, and tries to catch snowflakes on his tongue like a little kid. you learn his favourite meal is soba, and how you learn to make it how he likes it. you learn that he’s an oldest child, and as much as he insists his siblings are pains in his ass, he’ll help natsuo with his math homework, walk fuyumi home from school, and tuck shoto into bed.

- you teach him its okay to just be who he is now. that sometimes, just being happy is the sweetest vengeance against someone who hurt you.

- so you help him pick out his hero name, design his costume and fuel his dreams. he learns that he can be a hero for him. fuck everyone else, as he would say. except you.

- touya becomes your best friend, your ride or die. its this beautiful, parallel universe, one where its possible to save him. one where the light in his soul is nurtured and seen, and one where he’s happy.

- touya todorki is touya todoroki. in every universe, he’ll burn down anyone that gets in his path, whether thats being a villain or a hero. but he’s sure that in every one, you’re there waiting for him.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

huge thank you to @sukunaes for helping me with this! i published this a while ago, but for some reason tumblr hid it 💔 but i’ve gotten to rewrite and add some more thoughts! i also have more ua touya stuff in my drafts 🫧❄️🪽🤍🐚🎧

[hyunjinspark]

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 19

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned. 

word count: 40K (yeah....i promise it doesn't feel like that much!)

warnings: cursing, lots of casual drinking, mature content, angst, mutual pining, a shit ton of sexual tension, slight jealousy, making out, kissing, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, reference to depression, some self-blaming, whipped! hyunjin, a lot of fluff

a/n: this is definitely one of my favourite chapters, and ends with an arc I've been looking forward to for a while. it's a very hyunyn centric chapter, which is why i love it. i honestly could have worked on this chapter forever, because there's so much i wanted to include, and i hope you like the finished product. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read, and some light music to match. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

The snowflakes had settled on his coat, melting slowly in the warmth of the apartment, battling the cold from the outside where he’d left the door open. His eyes were filled with confusion, gaze moving from you to the duffel bag in your hands. The wheels clicked in his head, and oh, to know what went through Hyunjin’s mind when he put two and two together. You would kill to know how his mind worked, especially right now. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you said, “What are you doing here, Hyunjin?”

His brows furrowed as some kind of epiphany sank in, “Are you going somewhere?”

It wasn’t an answer to your question, and you had no energy to justify yourself right now, “That doesn’t concern you.”

“What do you mean?” He took a step up tentatively like if he stepped too close, you’d run away. But you were, weren’t you? You were running away. You didn’t want to talk to him, not when all of your latest conversations with Hyunjin had ended in heartbreak. You had made up your mind, and you were going home. He obviously didn’t want you in your life, as he’d explicitly stated every time. So why the fuck was he at your doorstep?

You looked him in the eye, a bubbling anticipation rising within you at his possible reaction. He obviously wouldn’t care though, would he? He wanted you gone too. You swallowed, speaking clearly so he wouldn’t misunderstand, “I’m leaving, Hyunjin.”

“What?” A flash of confusion crippled his features. Just then, Jeongin’s voice carried through the stairwell, and you heard his footsteps as he ran up the stairs, yelling, “The taxi’s here! I already put your suitcases in the trunk.”

Hyunjin frowned, “Your suitcases? What is he talking about?”

Helpless, you stared at him. You had no clue how to explain this to him because it would mean admitting that you were wrong about everything. About moving here, about the classes, about Jieong… You weren’t going to be weak in front of him. His cheeks were red, courtesy of the quickly developing storm outside. It just meant you needed to get out of here as soon as possible, you couldn’t wait around for your train to get delayed because of the increment weather. It was fitting, because the snowstorm matched you. You tightened the grip on your bag, taking a step ahead, and your voice didn’t waver as you said, “It means that I’m going home, Hyunjin. To Daejon.”

“I’m sorry…what?” His eyes widened. You stepped closer, lugging your bag with you, “You heard me…” Finally, you came eye-to-eye with him in the middle of the staircase, “I never should have come here. It was my mistake. So you don’t have to worry about me being in your life anymore, and since you’re probably never coming back to Daejon then….” You swallowed, staring at him, and suddenly it was harder to speak the following few words, “Then… I guess this is goodbye, Hyunjin.”

He blinked at you, voice raising in his prolonged disbelief, “Wait…What are you talking about? What do you mean, you’re going home?”

You had no clue how to explain this to him, you suppose it was out of nowhere…but what did he expect? Right at that moment, Jeongin finally caught up to you on the sixth floor, and he stopped to catch his breath, hands on his knees, panting, “I have no idea why I just ran up all those stairs.” He straightened up, finally noticing Hyunjin, “How did you get into the building?”

Hyunjin looked back at him as if this was the last of his problems, stating bluntly, “I pushed open the door. It wasn’t locked.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just come into a stranger’s building, what the hell, dude” It should have been expected that Jeongin, obviously was unaware of and possibly didn’t give a fuck about idols. In any other circumstance, you might have found it funny. Hyunjin frowned at him, “I’m not a stranger. She knows me.”

You sighed, “Jeongin, I’ll be down in a minute. Thank you for getting the taxi.” Jeongin was still suspiciously glaring at him, then looked at you, face immediately relaxing, “Okay. The drivers really hate waiting, so I suggest you go soon, Y/N.”

Your decision was suddenly settling in and becoming more real. You gave him a nod, “Right. I’ll get going then.”

You stepped past Hyunjin, brushing his shoulder, and a part of you was satisfied that he didn’t have as big of an effect on you as he used to. You didn’t stop dead in your tracks because of him. You’d decided what you would do, and nothing Hyunjin could say would change your mind. It seemed like he was still catching up to this new information you’d dumped on him. His face was in disbelief as you passed him, and you hurriedly descended the stairwell. If you stopped to think about this decision, you might regret it, or you might cry, and you weren’t going to let either happen. The front door was in sight, and chills ran up your skin the closer you got. Your head was pounding with the weight of this hurried decision. You won’t regret this. You couldn’t. Daejon was your home, and you needed to be there.

Through the fog of your thoughts, you heard Hyunjin call your name. At first, your name sounded like a realization, and then it was more in desperation. The taxi waiting for you honked loudly, and you paused at the front door. Hyunjin’s footsteps were loud in the atrium, and he was running down the stairwell. He was running to catch up to you. It was a stupidly dangerous thing to do. He could fall or trip. That was the only reason you stopped, turning around in frustration, “What are you doing? You could get hurt.”

He gripped the rusty railing, and his coat flew behind him as he caught up to you, breathless, “What’s going on? Can you please just tell me?”

“It’s stupid to run down the stairs. What were you even thinking?” You frowned, heart calming down at seeing that he was okay.

“I’m not thinking.” His teeth grit together, and he was still breathing heavily, voice hoarse, “I don’t understand. Can you just please talk to me?”

“What part?” A sorry laugh escaped you, “I told you. I’m going back home. That’s it. There’s nothing more to tell. Goodbye, Hyunjin.”

He reached out, grabbing your arm to stop you, “No, but why?”

You weren’t going to tell him about what happened. Of course not. “I don’t know Hyunjin. There’s nothing in the city for me to stay for. Why are you even here? I thought you said you couldn’t be a part of my life.”

Hurt flashed across his face, which you couldn’t even comprehend. How could he be hurt right now after he’d pushed you out this whole time? You’d been in the same city as him for months, yet he never reached out to you, or apologized. He couldn’t just suddenly want something else when it was convenient for him. 

“But…what about the classes? What about Kim Jieong? He wouldn’t want you to leave.” He knew nothing about your time in the classes, he had no right to question you now. You squeezed your eyes shut, and all the emotions you suppressed came up. Just then, the taxi honked again, and the phone in your pocket started buzzing too. You looked at the caller ID. Felix was calling and you picked up, eyes on Hyunjin’s briefly, “Yes, Lix?”

“Have you left for the train station yet, love?” He was concerned, so full of care for you. Your heart softened, and your voice dropped as you held the phone tightly to your ear, “No, I’m on my way. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

“It’s getting late. I’m worried about you.” He spoke. Hyunjin was staring at you as you took the phone call. Your gaze briefly flickered over him. Even now, after running down the stairs and walking through a freaking snowstorm, he looked like some kind of angel. There was snow all over his coat and his hair. His nose and cheeks were dark pink, and his lips were still bitten raw. “Don’t be worried. I’ll be home soon,” You mumbled, calming Felix’s tendency to worry about you. Felix had an unspoken excitement in his tone, “Okay. Love you. See you soon.”

You swallowed, highly aware of the man in front of you, “Love you too.” It’s as if those words changed the atmosphere. Hyunjin’s tense shoulders dropped as if resigning to a chosen fate. When you hung up, pushing the phone into your pocket, Hyunjin spoke, “So you’re just leaving? That’s it?”

“Yeah. What would you want me to do? Say goodbye? Maybe I would have, if I still had any way of contacting you,” You said. A taunt and petty jab, sure, but it was also the truth. Hyunjin wasn’t there when you needed him, so why was he here now?

He closed his eyes in regret. He couldn’t argue that. He knew it was the truth. After all, you two were practically strangers right now. You didn’t know what was going on in his life. You didn’t have any of his information. Yet he was here, in your apartment building. Curiosity tickled you, and you tilt your head, “Why did you even come here tonight, Hyunjin? Did something happen?”

His eyes pierced through yours, “I… wanted to talk to you. I would have come before, but… I’ve been traveling all month, I couldn’t help it”

“Right. Japan. Must have been nice.” 

You were aware you sounded like a bitch, but that was the only way you could distance yourself, so leaving him behind would hurt less. Except that would only work if he let you leave. He grabbed your arm again, pulling you close, “Y/N… what’s going on? Please…tell me what’s wrong.”

His eyes seemed so sincere. He seemed so sincere. And concerned for you. Your heart squeezed in worry. He must be so confused. If you really wanted to hurt him, you would leave right now with no explanation. It would show him how you felt, how it felt to be on the other side of things, to be cut off like this. But you weren’t him, so you’d at least try to offer an explanation.

“Hyunjin…” Before you could continue, the cab outside honked twice impatiently, and you realized all your suitcases were in the trunk. If the driver got pissed and drove off, your stuff would be gone too. Not that there was anything you still cared for in it. But you panicked, “Fuck…I would like to explain, but I don’t have the time. He’ll leave, and all my stuff’s with him. I’m sorry, you’re too late, Hyunjin.”

His face dropped into despair and that was all you had time to register before you turned away, walking out the door. The taxi was parked right outside with the engine running to preserve warmth. The apology was already on your lips, “I’m sorry sir. I got held up.”

The driver looked pissed as hell, and he glanced at you from his window, “You’re heading to the station? Because it seems like you’re wasting my time.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” 

He rolled his eyes, slurring words, “Either get in, or take your shit and get out”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” 

Oh god. 

Hyunjin had followed you out, obviously having overheard this. You turned to him, “I got this, okay? You don’t need to—”

“Dude, I have other customers too!” The guy yelled at him, clearly pissed by how Hyunjin talked back, “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

Hyunjin was staring at him, eyes narrowed in annoyance. You didn’t know how he’d react. You’d never seen this side of him, and you reached out to him, “Hyunjin, whatever you’re thinking of doing, please don’t”

He bypassed you, stepping up to the guy, leaning in to rest on the driver’s side window, “How much?”

“What?” The guy spat back.

“How much does she owe you?” Hyunjin repeated in a calm tone. The taxi driver was eyeing him back, “For this nonsense, three hundred thousand won”

You almost laughed, “What?”

“Okay,” Hyunjin replied, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He took out his credit card, and handed it to him calmly, “Please open the trunk”

The guy also didn’t seem to believe it, and he was wide-eyed, grabbing Hyunjin’s credit card to swipe it. And then with ease, Hyunjin grabbed your suitcases, pulling them out and settling them down on the curb.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir. I hope you have a good night,” Hyunjin said to him, still in a calm voice that contrasted with the drivers’. The guy looked up at him, “Yeah. Whatever, dude.”

And then he drove off in a plume of smoke and snow.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?” 

You’d been too shocked to process the state of things. Hyunjin looked back at you, the ever-present image of calm, “Can we go inside?”

You stepped up to him, in disbelief, “No, no, we fucking can’t. That was my ride. Why did you just pay him off? And three hundred thousand won? Are you insane? He completely ripped you off! And why the hell are you making decisions for me?”

“If you really want to go, I’ll drive you to the train station, but I’m not letting you get into a car like that, he seemed wasted.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms, “You’ll drive me to the train station?”

“Yeah, I will, if it means you’ll be safe.”

“From how you’re acting right now, you seem pretty wasted too.”

“Look.” He suddenly said, “Kairi told me you haven’t responded to her texts in a week. She got worried—”

“And she sent you here to check up on me? Kairi should know better.”

Hyunjin ignored your jab and continued talking, “And clearly she was right to be worried, because you’re moving out in the middle of the night in a freaking snowstorm!”

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Not really.” You stared at him, hugging yourself tighter. The snow was coming down heavy, wind building up so you could barely even hear each other. He seemed unaffected by every attack of yours, “I know you don’t…but… she’s worried about you. The least you could do is tell her what’s going on.”

You glared at him, “So you’re only here for her, right? If I call her right now, you’ll leave?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, sighing, “No…I’m worried about you too. I…don’t understand.”

Of course, he was worried now, the only time it seemed to matter the least. You were freezing, and the time for leaving seemed to have come and gone. You could book another taxi, but the snow was only growing, and there was still time for your train, so it wouldn’t make any sense to stand outside in this terrible weather. So you said, “Yeah. Sucks not to know things, doesn’t it?”

Hyunjin ignored the taunt yet again, and picked your suitcase up, “Can we please just wait inside?”

So, you didn’t argue for once and let him follow you back inside. It was just a matter of time, but this meant you’d need to have an actual conversation with Hyunjin, and you were dreading that. 

“You live on the top floor?” He asked, looking up the atrium. You took your bag from his hands, “Yup. I’ll take that.”

“What, no” He didn’t let you, pulling it back, “You’re not carrying that up.”

It wasn't even heavy but you gave in, too tired to protest, letting him follow you up the stairs to your apartment. You were so annoyed that you only just realized that this meant he’d see where you live. You suddenly felt embarrassed. The stairwell was rickety and shabby. Your apartment was so small, it felt like a joke. And he’d see it. Maybe this was a bad decision, but it didn’t matter anymore what he thought. He probably already thought terrible things about you. He certainly wouldn’t have ignored you for months if he didn’t.

You pushed open your door, and he stepped in tentatively. There wasn’t really much for him to see, yet his eyes traveled across the entire space and all your furniture as he took it in. He’d never even seen your room in Daejon. So he must think you live like this all the time. Poorly and with no taste. It was laughable how different you two were.

“No art?” He questioned, staring at the empty, barren walls. A pang hit you as you realized, “I got rid of it.”

He glanced at you, eyes wide, “Oh.”

You sat on the armrest of your couch, facing him, and he still stood at the threshold, processing your apartment. He seemed weirdly fascinated with it and asked, “Can I come in?”

“You’re already like, halfway in, so yeah” You mumbled. He stepped inside, for real, shutting the door behind him. This all felt so insane. Hyunjin was in your fucking apartment. Why? You thought you’d got rid of all the anger in you, but you certainly hadn’t. Your conversation with Minnie and Jamie came back to you too. He used you, because you’re so fucking nice. They like the thrill of the chase, and when they actually get the girl, they’re bored of her. Is that why he was interested in you again? That’s probably why he was chasing you again.

“So…um, I know you don’t owe me an explanation, but what about your friends? Kairi…and the people from your classes. Do they know why you’re leaving in the middle of the night?”

You stared at him, observing his expressions. If you told him about Kim Jieong, you’d have no idea how he’d react. You mumbled, “No. They don’t. It doesn’t concern anybody but me.”

He nodded slowly, hurt flashing through him, “Okay. Can…we talk about something else then?”

You crossed your arms, unsure what he even meant, “Yeah. We can talk about how my train leaves in three hours, so I have to be at the station before then.”

He swallowed, “You’re…not going to show me around your place? This is the first time—”

“From where you’re standing, you already saw all of it,” You replied, feeling embarrassed despite not wanting to care. He nodded, “Oh. So…you sleep on the couch?”

You let out a dry laugh at that. Obviously, he was right to assume that based on what you said, but it was still funny because it could have actually been true. You’d been so stupidly fucking desperate for the city you’d have literally slept on a park bench if you had to. Hyunjin frowned at your laughter, “I…I was just asking. Sorry”

“No, I sleep in my bed, which is in my bedroom and I don’t really see why you’d care about that, so…can you cut to the chase and tell me why you came to my apartment in the middle of the night, in a snowstorm?”

He swallowed, resting his head against your front door, “It wasn’t snowing when I left…”

“Oh, right. That’s inconvenient for you. You wouldn’t have come if it was.”

“No, I still would’ve come.” His eyes narrowed, “Please…just…can you talk to me normally?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I understand that you’re pissed at me, but I just want to have a conversation. I came here because I was worried about you. I would have come sooner if I could, but with my work it’s impossible. So please…can we just talk?”

No, you couldn’t because if you 'just talked’ to him, you’d remember how crazy in love with him you still were, after all his repeated rejections and ghosting, and not wanting you. You changed the topic, “You know that cab driver ripped you off, right? That ride isn’t worth that money.”

Hyunjin swallowed, “I know. But…he was drunk, and it’s not safe for him to drive anyone. With that amount, he wouldn’t have to take any more customers for the night. It’d be enough for the week.”

So he was still kind to everyone except you. Even to your wasted taxi driver. Good to know.

“There. I answered your question. Are you going to be answering mine?” He spoke, for once matching your fervor and energy. You stared at him, “Which question? You asked me, like ten.”

He sighed, stepping away from the door, and closer to you. He was so tall, he really did make your apartment seem small. He was almost as tall as your couch. You gripped the sides of the armrest, looking up at him. His face traversed many expressions like he was struggling with the right thing to say, and then he spoke, “Are you okay?”

You chose to be honest, chewing on your lower lip as you admitted, “I will be when I get home.”

His face fell, like he’d been expecting something else, and his whole body seemed tense. You suppose it was a valid reaction because this had been your dream, so he couldn’t possibly understand why you were running away. “But…”

“But what?” You asked, looking up at him, not wanting to leave any breathing room for emotions because now was not the time. If you went down that spiral, you’d never come back out, “It’s your turn to answer now. I still can’t understand why you’re here, after our conversation in the car.”

He contemplated for a second, looking away, and then back at you, saying, “I came here to make sure you were okay… that’s why I got on the first flight back home.”

You stood up, staring at him, “Flight back from where?”

“Bangkok.” He stated, a tinge of embarrassment in his features, “We had a schedule there…a show, but Kairi told me that you hadn’t responded to her texts, she was really worried…I had to come back.”

You stilled, and he surprised you for the first time that night. “What about the others?”

“The rest of the band is still there.” He spoke, “I just… couldn’t wait”

“You…took a flight for this?” You were having trouble processing this. He nodded, resignation and disappointment in his voice, “But clearly I should’ve come sooner.”

For a second, you allowed yourself the luxury to wonder if things would be different, had he come sooner. If things had been different, had he never left you at all. You couldn’t even imagine the other side of things — a reality where he stayed with you all this, and maybe all those bad things wouldn’t have happened to you. You couldn’t blame Hyunjin for everything that went wrong in your life after he left, but it sure seemed convenient to blame him. A myriad of thoughts overwhelmed you. He was confusing you too much. You needed to get out of this city, far away from here, and it felt like you were suddenly leaving with no good memories. Hyunijn was looking at you so deeply, so you swallowed your pride, “Can you do me a favour, Hyunjin?”

“Anything. What is it?”

“Can we just…stop by the Atelier before you take me to the station?” You asked, hoping he would oblige you in this last request since he seemed far too eager anyway, “Please.”

“Oh. Okay.” Defeat sank into his shoulders as he realised you had indeed made up your mind. Maybe he expected to hear something else from you. He didn’t protest though, because he had already agreed. In deafening silence, he led you to his car, which was parked around the block. When he opened the trunk, you saw his own suitcase. A simple black suitcase. He really had just come from the airport. It shocked your heart in a way you’d craved for all this time. When Yeonjun had come home to make up with Hana, you’d wished that someone would love you that much, to fly across the country for you. And Hyunjin did even more than that. He flew from another country… Yet you didn’t know what to make of it. He only came because Kairi was worried for you.

He carefully placed your bags next to his, as if anything was fragile in them but your clothes. He was uncannily quiet as he drove you, and you had nothing left to say. You watched the passing skyscrapers, and craved for the quiet of the mountainside back home. The Atelier wasn’t too far from your place, and he already seemed to know the way.

“So why are we here, Y/N?” He asked, as you both stared up at the towering glass building that was home to your classes. Seeing it now in the dark, it was one of the prettiest buildings you’d seen, built like art, for artists. You remember seeing it on the front page of the brochure you’d found years ago, and it had decided the trajectory of your life. It was still snowing, flakes falling on the two of you, and it was so cold in the parking lot. You owed him an explanation so you spoke, “This last week, I was working on a painting. It was becoming something really special, but… I forgot it in the classroom. I’d like to take it with me when I go.”

“Oh.” He simply nodded like it made all the sense in the world, not questioning this stupid request, and followed you to the front door. Obviously, nobody was here. It was after hours, and no security guards were in sight. You stared at the revolving doors, trying to figure out a plan. “Is it locked?” Hyunjin asked you, sounding impatient in this weather, “You don’t have the access card?”

If you entered the building with your keycard, it’d send a notification straight to Kim Jieong. That’s how he’d known you were here the last time. The memory sent you a shudder, and the last thing you wanted was to bump into him. You bit your lip, “Wait. I’m thinking.”

The cold was making you do stupid things, like shifting closer to him, so your shoulder would brush his. Simple body heat. Even through your thick coat, and his, the touch sent a flutter to your stomach. Hyunjin glanced at you as you did that, and his lips were becoming icy cold, “Well… it’d be nice if you could think faster. I wouldn’t want to die of hypothermia before you figure it out.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sudden sass in his tone, “Are you done?”

“Give me your keycard, let’s just go in.” He let out a breath, fog leaving his mouth. You frowned, not wanting to explain the whole story, “I don’t have one. It’s deactivated.”

“Okay…” He sighed, looking around the facade, “Is there another entrance we can use?”

You thought over his words. You had an idea. It was a stupid idea. You shrugged, hands deep in your coat pockets, “The back door.”

“Well, why don’t we just use that?” He asked. You shot him a tight smile, “It’s technically off-limits.” It was the emergency stairwell. You’d heard enough lectures about it, but you didn’t care right now. That was the only way to get into the building. You’d just have to suck it up. “I’m going to have to…technically break in.” You stepped ahead. His eyes widened, and he reached out to stop you, “What?”

“Only technically. You should probably go back to the car, because if someone comes here, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble. It could hurt your…reputation.”

“No, it could put us in jail.” He stated matter-of-factly, and the cold must make him more sassy or annoyed or something. You didn’t have time for this. You sighed, crossing your arms, “That’s exactly why you should wait in the car. I promise I’ll be quick. I’ll grab my stuff and come.”

He let out a forced laugh, and there was a shiver in his voice, “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be quick,” You reassured him. He stared at you, deadpan, “You’re not going in there by yourself.”

You frowned at his displaced concern, “It’s just an art school, Hyunjin, nothing’s going to harm me in there”

He glanced up at the towering building that did look kind of ominous right now, “You don’t know that. I’m not taking any chances.”

You felt frustrated because he was only protesting and not offering any solutions, “Well, you’re not stopping me, Hyunjin.”

“No, I’m coming with you.” 

“What?” You scoffed, “I’m breaking in. If somebody finds out, you’re going to get into trouble—” 

“I don’t care.” He interrupted you harshly and then took a breath, repeating, “I don’t care if I get into trouble. I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.” 

Your eyes widened, watching him. Did he really not think of the consequences? He spent all his life protecting his public image, and now he was willing to risk it for you? His words sent an unpleasant feeling down your spine. He cared. He cared about you to the point that he was okay with being caught. That was a new kind of feeling you couldn’t process. All this while, you’d prioritised Hyunjin’s needs and the consequences in his life because he was so much more important than you. This was new.

“Are you sure?” You asked. He glanced at the building and then around the abandoned parking lot as if he was seriously reconsidering this absurd request. You saw the hesitation in his posture, his lips parting as if to say no he was only joking, and he would never do something as stupid as this. Then his eyes landed on yours. They flickered over your face, the cold in his gaze melting into strange tenderness, “Of course I’m sure. I can’t let you go alone.”

“Fine.” You nodded, breath coming out in a cold puff, “We should be quick.” He followed you to the back of the building, the big glowing EXIT sign, and the notice that read, ‘This is not an entrance. Please use front door access’

You sucked in a breath for good measure, pushing the door open, and when no immediate alarms rang, you stepped in. Hyunjin followed you into the darkness, and you switched on your phone's flashlight to guide you. You were still shivering. There was no heating in here, and he asked, “Now what, Y/N?”

“My class is on the top floor,” You whispered, just in case someone was in the stairwell.

“I’m guessing we can’t use the elevator?” He deadpanned. You gripped the handrail, “Yeah. Using the elevator’s too risky. If someone’s still in the building, they’d realise.”

“This painting must be really important to you.” He spoke, following you up the stairs into complete darkness. The Atelier was fancy, but this stairwell…was not. It was industrially exposed, the sound of a loud generator buzzing and a flickering light above you. There was a constant banging sound that you guessed was from the pipes in the wall. You tried not to overthink this situation, where Hyunjin was breaking and entering with you in your dream academy. Each little sound was putting you on edge. You heard him mutter, “This is really creepy.”

Over your shoulder, you peeked at him. He had his flashlight turned on too, and it shone into his face, dark shadows over his jaw and lips. “Are you afraid?” You asked. He shook his head, “Let’s just get this over with, Y/N.”

You climbed the rest of the floors in silence, preserving your voice and breath. It was still freezing in here, and you did feel bad that you’d dragged him along for this. But out of everything, this was the least he could do. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you probably wouldn’t have had the courage to come here alone, not after what happened the other night with Jieong. You were glad he insisted to come with you, even if you never would have expected him to in a million years. Finally, you reached the landing for the highest floor and stopped to catch your breath. There was a door marked ‘Rooftop Access’, that led to the greenhouse-studio. 

“Do we exit here?” He asked, reaching out to the knob. As he pulled the door open, light flooded the stairwell from outside. The lights in the studio were usually always turned off, but if they were on.… The cogwheels in your brain clicked just in time.

“Stop!” You whisper-yelled, grabbing him by the coat and pulling him back towards you. He stumbled, losing his balance in the dark and you steadied him. He braced himself against the wall, unintentionally pressing you to it.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, eyes wide.

“The lights were still turned on. That means someone’s in there.” You breathed, heart racing fast. You could have easily been caught. You weren’t really worried for yourself because you had nothing to lose, but Hyunjin…you really didn’t want to get him into trouble, even if he was completely okay with the consequences. He squeezed his eyes shut, “Oh. Okay”

He stepped away from you, and you could hear his heartbeat. “You scared me” He mumbled, after a while. He reached up to fix his messy hair, moving it out of his eyes. “I didn’t know you were scared of the dark, Hyunjin.” You mumbled. He narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m not. I’m…scared of people yanking my arm suddenly in confined spaces.”

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” You touched his arm, brushing over the coat, wondering if you’d grabbed him too hard. Had you bruised him? He didn’t stop you, as if he enjoyed being fawned over and then spoke, “So what is our plan? Are we going to stand in the stairwell forever? I thought you were in a hurry to get to the station.”

“We’re waiting for them to leave, whoever it is” You mumbled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall to rest, “I don’t want to run into anybody.”

“What if they decide to stay here the entire night?”

“They won’t. It must be a janitor. They’ll leave soon. Nobody even comes in after hours. The other night when I was—” You cut yourself short, not wanting to tell Hyunjin about the events of that night. He picked up on it though, tilting his head, “When you were what?”

You cleared your throat, “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

His lips pursed, but he didn’t question further. Suddenly, you heard footsteps. Hyunjin’s head whipped to the door, then to you, “Are they coming in here?”

Clearly he was still scared of being caught, despite all the talk of not giving a shit about the consequences. In panic, you pressed your finger to his lips, “Can you please be quiet?”

He instantly shut up, not that he had a choice with you shushing him like this anyway. His lips were soft to your fingertips, and you stared at each other in the low light of your flashlight. The footsteps sounded again, and you heard the elevator ding. Whoever was in the studio had just left. You were in the clear. 

You retracted your hand, his saliva sticking to your fingers, and if it had been anybody else, you would have wiped it off immediately because that was gross. But with him…you didn’t care. You’d lick your own fingers to taste him, if he wasn’t standing right here. The thought crossing your mind was insane and you felt annoyed at yourself for trudging into that territory again. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with you the last time you met, and the time before that, and before that. Why were you so fucking weak around him? All your frustrations with him couldn’t seem to damper the attraction you felt. “They’re gone now” You mumbled, hoping to sound as emotionless and detached as you aspired to be, wiping your hand on your coat, and Hyunjin noticed that, his cheeks tinging pink.

“Let’s go” He slowly followed behind you into the elevator lobby, where the massive glass doors led to your studio. He looked confused, “I thought we were going to a classroom”

“Yeah. We are.” You replied curtly, pushing open the doors and walking onto the metal walkway. Plants drowned you on both sides, and your company's only telltale sound was his winter boots loud on the metal grate. Hyunjin was looking around in awe, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes would always give him away. He was awestruck. A small part of you was satisfied. You’d been dreaming of this reaction ever since you’d joined these classes. At least you got to see it before you left. He reached out, touching the petals of a dozen different flowers as you passed them, until you entered the studio space. You used to feel so much joy stepping in here. But it had always been coupled with sadness too —you’d been moving on from Hyunjin in this very space, and here he was, none the wiser. 

“Shit. This is your classroom?” He stepped into the centre, doing a full circle, head tilted up to the glass ceilings. The view was so pretty at night, revealing the beauty of the lit-up skyscrapers. The famous city lights that Hyunjin loved. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, walking over to the storage cupboards. You tried not to think of Kim Jieong and what had happened the last time you were here. You had a mission, a singular focus, and you ripped open the cabinets, rifting through them to look for your painting. It was a massive canvas, but maybe somebody had rolled it up and put them here. There was no way they’d throw it away, right? You’d been working on it so deliberately. They’d have to know it wasn’t trash. Kim Jieong wouldn’t do that to you either. But after looking through every cupboard, your heart sank. There was nowhere else it could be. Maybe he did throw out your artwork, because none of the paintings you’d made in the last few months were here. Shockingly, it seemed you knew nothing of him. 

In defeat, you leaned against the desk, staring into the empty cupboard. You…had just wanted your unfinished canvas, as a stupid souvenir or something to take home with you so your time here didn’t feel wasted. You’d poured so much energy, hours of research and experience behind it. It was the first art piece in the city you’d genuinely been excited about, and now it was just…gone. Like it never existed in the first place, and you’d only been gone a week but it felt like you were already being erased.

A short laugh interrupted you. You turned to see Hyunijn bent over a telescope that looked out into the city, “This…is a dream. Holy shit.”

“I’m glad you like it” You mumbled, fiddling with your coat as you stayed in place. At least someone was having a good time. He glanced at you, cheeks red, and stood up straight, “This…is the coolest art studio I’ve ever been in.”

“Yeah. It is pretty cool”

“The range of this thing…is insane. I actually think I can see a planet from here” He spoke, focusing on the telescope again. It was cute, his tall frame bent over the telescope that was meant for much shorter people. He was so easily excited about things, like he had forgotten you’d broken into this building, and that you’d been arguing with each other less than an hour ago. It reminded you of how fixated he would get on the things he loved. 

“A planet? Wow…” You mumbled.

“Do you ever use it in class?” He asked, excitement in his tone.

“No…I never got the chance to.” Your voice dropped, trailing off at the what-ifs and your missed opportunities. You were running away from the place you’d dreamed of for so long. All because of a stupid man. It wasn’t fair to you. Nothing about this was fair. Why had you worked so hard for it to be thrown away? He blinked at you, as if he noticed the sadness in your voice, “Do you want to?”

“I don’t really know how it works.” You swallowed, staring at the empty cabinets, and your heart felt so heavy, like a huge weight was pressing down on it, and you couldn’t breathe right. All of the anxiety bubbled up in your throat, filling your lungs with it too. Your lip quivered, a tremble traveling through your spine, and the heaviness in your chest was only getting worse as reality set in. You were never going to be in here again. So much for chasing that dream.

“Come here.” Hyunjin’s soft voice broke your avalanche of despair. You sucked in a breath, hoping any tears would disappear and glanced at him. He stood against the large floor-to-ceiling window, hands around the telescope, the city as his majestic backdrop. You didn’t want to protest. This was your last night in the city, you might as well indulge in it. You walked over to him, and each step felt like so much effort, your boots loud in the quiet room.

“Stand over here” He said, his voice low but filled with excitement. “Did you forget we’re in the middle of committing a crime right now?” You couldn’t help but say, wondering if it’d snap him back to reality, if he would stop being such a romantic. His lip curled up into a smile, and Hyunjin was so pretty in the moonlight, voice dropping into a secret, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

God. His words sent chills down your body, momentarily displacing that heaviness. A secret night with him. The temptation was screaming. You stepped up to the telescope, bending down to the eyepiece. Hyunjin grabbed your hands without hesitation, placing them in the proper position on the metal tube. His voice was tender as he explained, “Now, put your hands here, and try to look through the eyepiece in that direction.”

Had you completely derailed from the plot? Your train home was in a few hours. Each second being here was literally a crime. Still, you indulged him, squinting to see where he’d pointed it. You could only see black and perhaps you weren’t special enough to see magnificent things such as celestial planets. You felt frustrated, trying really hard to see, but it was a big blob of nothing.

“Do you see it?” He asked, voice a whisper. You saw nothing of significance. 

“No…never mind.” You breathed, standing up straight with disappointment. “Wait…” He spoke, quick to want to fix it, “Can I…?”

You shrugged, not understanding what he was asking. He grabbed you by the waist, adjusting you slightly. His hand curled around your thick coat, and you wished he was touching your skin. He was so close to your body. Your breath was stuck in your throat, and then he said, “Can you try now? Bend down again.”

You followed his instructions like they were the words of god. You tried not to fog up with the eyepiece with your breath and to focus on the view, but Hyunjin was touching you and standing behind your body, so how could you possibly focus? You mumbled, “I just see…a big white spot.”

“That’s it” He whispered, leaning down, his mouth brushing against your ear, “That’s Jupiter, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you gripped the tube tighter for a better hold, “But it’s just a speck of light…”

He chuckled, breath warm on your ice-cold skin, “I know, we’re so far away from it, but it’s bigger than we can ever imagine. You see those two circles in the centre? Those are the cloud belts.”

“I see them.” You spoke, suddenly feeling so small. It was so huge, a real-life planet, and from here it was just a speck in the sky. Your place in the world felt even more trivial. It was so majestic. You tried to imagine all the pictures of Jupiter you’d seen, placing them into this context. Hyunjin’s hand was still on your waist, not that you could feel it much through the clothes, only a ghost of a touch. You straightened up, and he left his grip on you as you asked, “How do you know so much about this?”

He shrugged, like it was no big deal, “I’ve been doing some reading. We’re lucky the snow stopped. Usually, nothing is visible. The lights and cloud cover are too much.”

You stepped away from the telescope, wondering where he found the time to read up about this between his very busy life, “I see.”

He had a hint of a smile, “What did you think? It’s surreal, right?” 

It was. It was so beautiful.... 

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, “My painting isn’t here. We should go.”

The smile on his face dropped, and he nodded, voice returning to a normal octave, “Right. Where do you think it could be?”

“I don’t know” You sighed, and the weight on your chest was back, and you couldn’t look at him right now, “I checked everywhere. They probably threw it out. I should just go to the station, it’s getting late.”

“Oh. Right.” His voice sounded hollow. You didn’t want to leave him. But he wasn’t even here, was he? He was just…doing you a favour, and then he’d go back to not wanting you in his life. 

“I can…help you look for the painting” He suggested, “Couldn’t it be in other places? We can check the rest of the building.”

“No, it’s gone. We came here for nothing. Please, let’s just leave.”

His shoulders dropped in disappointment, “This studio is beautiful. I’d…actually do anything to have a space like this to paint in, feels like I’d never run out of inspiration.” 

You stared at him, wondering what point he was trying to make now. Then he said, “Why do you want to leave this, Y/N?” 

You didn’t answer him, a horrible twisting in your gut, and glanced at the exact spot you’d been standing when Kim Jieong cornered you against the table, making all kinds of suggestions to you. You felt sick to your core again.

“It’s not because of me, right?”

You looked at him, feeling overwhelmed, and suddenly, the weight wasn’t pushing down but pulling you instead. You felt like you were drowning, lungs crushing with the force of being dragged down and you had tunnel vision, overwhelmed with everything, “What?”

“You’re leaving. Is it…because of me?” His voice was low, and his words were not helping. You couldn’t tell if Hyunjin was drowning you, or savi you right now.

A lump formed in your throat, forbidding you from speaking as you processed those words. Were you leaving the city behind because of him? Maybe. He was a big part of it, but you’d never run away from Hyunjin. You’d chase him forever if you could. How could he even think that it was cause of him? You bit your lip, “If it was because of you, I’d be gone a long time ago, Hyunjin.”

You turned to leave, and Hyunjin’s next words echoed through the large room, “Please don’t go.”

Your eyes widened at his…blatant, crude request. He’d done nothing but push you away. How could he ask you to stay?

“I know… I’m the last person who has the right to ask you to stay, but… there’s so much for you here. I know you would love it.”

You turned to face him, “Like…what?”

It’s like he didn’t expect you to actually humor him, and he blurted, tripping over his words, “You can’t leave without having seen Christmas. Everything’s…a blanket of snow, and it’s lit up, and the city lights…are so beautiful, Y/N. You can’t miss that. You can’t not see them.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and you wanted to cry at this. What kind of reasoning was this? Hyunjin was asking you to stay, and you must be dreaming, right? 

“Christmas is really far away, Hyunjin…”

He took another step closer, more confident like he'd found his reasoning now, “I know, but it’ll be so worth it. It’s my favorite time of the year. You’ll fall in love with it too. It seems like you hate this place, and it feels like my fault, but there is so much for you here. I’ve only been back a few months and I’ve already seen a hundred things you would love. You would appreciate them more than anybody, and I’ve thought of you every time. You belong here, not…in that town back home.”

It was so tempting, especially when he said it like that. “I can’t stay, Hyunjin”

He stepped even closer, “Why?” He asked, a desperation slipping through. He cared so much. You wish he had shown it before. It didn’t matter now. Things had immeasurably changed, in this very room. You had been trying so hard to not feel the weight of everything, but it was impossible. Not when he was looking at you like that.

The dam broke.

A single tear at first.

Then a sob. “Hyun…”

Immediately, without any question or hesitation, he closed the distance between you and pulled you into his arms. 

His touch brought on a wave of tears. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest, pitiful sobs bubbling to the top. For the longest time, he just held you in his embrace and you cried. All you could register was his hold on you, and his heart racing against your ear. He squeezed you tightly, hugging you to him to pull you even closer to his body, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“He…he tried to—” You sniffled, unable to form the words.

“What?” He tensed in your grip. He clearly hadn’t expected to hear anything of that sort, but his hand still ran circles over your back, “Who did what?”

“Kim…Jieong.” You mumbled, eyes squeezed shut in his chest, not wanting to burden him with this knowledge but your throat felt clogged with emotion that you couldn’t contain within yourself anymore, “He…said I could convince him”

You were aware that you made no sense, but it was enough for him to understand. Hyunjin pulled back, hands holding your shoulders as he looked at you, and his eyes were wide, “What? Did he touch you?”

“No…” You sniffled, lip trembling, “He…just…”

Hyunjin’s hand came up to your face, holding your chin unbeknownst that your professor had tried the same. You were only filled with terror when Kim Jieong did that, but right now…you felt the safest in the world. Your face was hot, his hand was warm on you. His thumb wiped your tears, the other hand holding your face tight, “What did he do?”

You shook your head, vision blurry from the tears in your lash line, and you had no idea how to explain this, “Hyunjin. I… don’t even know how to deal with this.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.” He said. You looked up at him, eyes blown wide, “What do you mean?”

He took in a breath, still holding you strongly, as his thumbs gently wiped the tears streaking down your face, and his soft gesture was a stark contrast to his next words, “Tell me what he did. I’m going to talk to that piece of shit.”

“No, you can’t. I…I don’t have any proof, Hyunjin and I don’t even know if he was trying something—” You trailed off, struggling with your words but he wasn’t even listening. He was staring into the distance, “I have to go talk to him.”

“What?”

He started walking out. What the fuck was he doing? You ran after him, tugging at his arm, “What are you talking about? It’s the middle of the night.”

He turned to you, his eyes were dark, and his jaw was clenched. and there was more emotion in his face than you’d seen in the past hour as he said, “He…he fucking touched you. He can’t… do that.”

“Oh my god, you can’t go after him” 

“Why?” He asked, eyes searching yours. You weren’t equipped to deal with whatever anger he held in him. It seemed like Hyunjin had quickly forgotten who he was in this world. A world-famous celebrity who definitely couldn’t go after a renowned artist, especially not at this time of night. As much as you appreciated the gesture, it wasn’t thought out at all, and it pissed you off, “You don’t even know what happened, Hyunjin!”

“It doesn’t matter. I know enough.”

“Can you please just…calm down?” Your eyes widened, regret soaring through you, “I…I knew I shouldn’t have told you. It was a mistake.”

He frowned, stepping closer to you, “Fuck. Don’t… don’t say that. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to react. I just wanted you to listen.” You said. He let in a deep breath, like he was physically calming himself down, running his hands over his face, “Okay. I am listening. I just…need a second.”

You could see the anger surging through him, and you mumbled, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I’m…not thinking straight. I’m sorry, I just…”

“I should never have brought you here. I could have been on the train home already. You were right, okay? I am running away.” You admitted, lip trembling, “I’m sorry.”

His voice softened at your state, “What are you apologizing for? Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, and you realised you’d have to tell him the whole truth now, because you’d stupidly brought it up. You wiped at your face with your sleeve, but he reached into his coat pocket, handing you a tissue, “Let me…”

“You…carry tissues with you?” You vaguely registered through your clouded judgement, wiping your face. He was quiet for a minute, and you tried to collect yourself. You were embarrassed, and your face was burning hot from crying, and from the shame, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry…I ruined your coat.”

“Come here…” He led you to the nearest table, pulling you to sit next to him. He hesitated before reaching out, hand on your back as he spoke, “I’m sorry for reacting. I…I didn’t expect to hear that, but you can’t understand how this makes me feel. I know you don’t want to talk about it but I’m going to drive myself crazy if you don’t tell me what happened.”

He was right, and you probably would have reacted worse if someone had hurt Hyunjin. You would have lost your mind. You had thrust this information upon him unwillingly, and he did deserve to know the truth of it. Now that you tried to recall it, most of it felt like blanks in your mind and you muttered, “There’s an art scholarship that we were told about. It was a big one. If we won, it would pay for the rest of our year, and we could present our work in this gallery. It was supposed to be a huge honor. I was working on a painting for it the other night. I was here by myself…and…Jieong saw me working. I don’t…know how it led to that. I don’t remember most of it, but he said he liked that I was… desperate.”

“What?” Hyunjin interrupted you. You swallowed, “He said that I was desperate to be liked and respected and that I could go a lot of places in the world, if I…convinced him somehow. That all I had to do was ask him…and my dreams could come true.”

He scoffed, “By sleeping with him?”

“I don’t know. I left after that.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, “I was really confused.”

“He hurt you?”

You shrugged, a fresh wave of tears springing up, “No…at least not physically”

His hand reached out to yours, “I’m…really sorry that happened, Y/N.”

You pulled your hand back before he could touch it. You weren’t here tonight to seek Hyunjin’s comfort. You were just offering him an explanation so he wouldn’t be left in the dark after you were gone. You said, “But nothing even happened, Hyunjin. Nothing I can prove anyway. Except that he’s cancelled my scholarship.”

“He can’t do that” He said. You mumbled, “I missed out on an entire week of classes. He…has valid reason now.”

“Did you tell anyone?” He asked, “Any of your friends from class?”

As if having this conversation once wasn't embarrassing enough. You didn't plan to tell anybody else about it. It would be a secret you'd take to the grave. If you told people, all they'd question was your obsession to come here in the first place. After all, why would a married man come on to you at all, risking his career? You must have come on to him -- at least that's what everyone would think. You shook your head, “Nope…Just…you.”

“I’m…sorry that this happened. I wish I could…do something to help.” He spoke. You looked at him, unable to comprehend that he was being kind to you again. He was so tender and caring right now, but how long could this really last? The last time he was this tender was in the storage closet, and he’d kissed you so passionately and then immediately cut you off. Wasn’t this compassion just temporary? You stepped away from him, running a hand over your face to wipe away the dried tears, “Yeah. No biggie.”

He noticed the change in your demeanor, dropping his hands to his lap, but said nothing of it. You stared at the place where Jieong had tried to make a move, and where your canvas had been. You wish you hadn't come here that night at all, then you could have been blissfully unaware of his behaviour and stayed happy. The longer you stayed here, the sicker you felt. 

“We should talk about this in my car.” Hyunjin said, offering his hand to you again. You stared at his soft palm and inviting touch, but you didn’t take it. If the rejection hurt him, he didn’t show it. You just hugged yourself, “Okay”

You followed him into the elevator lobby, about to head for the stairwell again, but he pressed the button for the elevator. You frowned, “We can’t go out the front door. If they see you—”

“I really don’t give a shit about that right now” He spoke, pushing a hand through his hair, and you noticed how tense he was, “If they catch me, I’d have a lot to talk to them about anyway.”

“But… this is not worth it.” You spoke, as the elevator doors opened. He took in a breath, facing away, running another hand through his hair, you realised he always did that when he was nervous, “I just… can’t believe they let an artist like that work with them.”

You steadied yourself against the elevator wall, as the floors went by. The doors opened into the lobby. You prayed that nobody was in there. No matter how much Hyunjin didn’t care, you didn’t want to cause a scene and you definitely couldn’t handle jeopardizing his job. If anybody saw you two… they could call the cops and he couldn’t afford to be put under scrutiny. It would risk his career and everything else that mattered. Uncaring of this, he stepped into the lobby, footsteps loud as he walked towards the front door. You followed, looking around and thankfully, the front desk was empty. The odds were in your favor, perhaps. He almost looked disappointed that there was nobody to confront as you exited the building. He was walking so fast, and you struggled to keep up as you made your way to the parking lot. Once you were sitting inside his car, you asked him, “You’re not going to do anything stupid, right?”

“I don’t know. He…needs to be fired. He can’t just get away with what he did to you. Once he gets fired, they’ll put in a new teacher, and…you can continue the classes. And for what they’ve put you through, they should grant you a new scholarship anyway, no questions asked. He should be the one to leave, not you.”

Before you could think about his words, your phone on the console buzzed, and you both glanced at it. He read it the same time as you. There was a text from Felix. have you made it to the train station yet, baby?

Hyunjin looked up at you, eyes that were suddenly devoid of anger, but…a new desperation, “Do you…still want me to take you?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of everything on your shoulders again. Your suitcases were packed and waiting in the trunk. Your train was booked. You’d made your decision. You stared at the window, “Your…plan sounds fine Hyunjin, but… I’m not important enough for them to fire their biggest artist ever. Nothing good can come out of me staying here with that false hope.”

His eyes flickered over your features before turning away. He started the engine, and said nothing, pulling out of the driveway. You tried to gather your emotions, watching the snow piled up by the sides of the street. Your first and last snow here. You imagined being home already. It would help so much. Felix, Minho and all your friends. You'd go back to working at the art shop. Maybe you could pay a grand and enroll in the classes at the Chateau, and practice art under Seungmin. Nothing would come out of it but at least you’d be occupied. Some people weren’t built for greatness, and you could be okay with that, unlike the boy next to you. Hyunjin suddenly spoke, hands gripping the wheel tightly, “It’s not false hope. Something like this can have serious repercussions. You should’ve told me the second he did that. He would already be out of his job by now.”

He was redirecting the conversation to him, when it was about you. Your head hurt at this faux chivalry. Did he really even care about Jieong or did he just want someone to pin his anger on? You stared at him, “I don’t even have your fucking phone number, Hyunjin.”

He stopped the car, bringing it to the side of the road. You hadn’t reached your destination yet, and you were in the middle of a random neighbourhood. You stared at him, unsure of what was going through his mind, “What are you doing?”

He reached into his coat pocket, took out two identical phones and handed one to you, “I was going to give you this tonight.”

You grabbed it from him, “What is this?”

“It’s…a phone with my number on it” He said, looking right ahead, “I bought it for you.”

Your brows raised, “You…bought me a phone?”

“And this one…” He lifted his own identical phone, which also seemed brand-new, “This is mine. The only thing on it… is your number.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s so we can talk to each other” He turned to face you, “And nobody can trace it back to us, The phone isn’t connected to anything else, except…to each other.”

You blinked, trying to process this, “Oh”

He looked frustrated as he spoke, “I know what I said to you last time. I know that I said we can’t be in each other's life, but… I’m trying my real hardest to find a fucking way around it. What I did and said was uncalled for. I realize that…it hurt you, but you have to cut me some slack, Y/N. I’m…really trying to figure it out.”

“I’ve cut you more slack than I ever would with somebody who’s made it absolutely clear they don’t want me around them” You blinked. He sighed, “I’m sorry. I understand that what I said hurt you, and…I really didn’t mean to. You know me, Y/N, better than anyone in my life and…I would never want to hurt you like that.”

“Then why did you say all those things…?”

He let out a sigh, turning to look at you, “I was only thinking about myself. I guess… I was running away too.”

You stared at him, the irony of tonight striking you. You were blaming him for what he’d done, when you were now doing the exact same thing.

All the fight died down in you.

“We’re more alike than I thought.” He mumbled. Maybe now you could finally understand where he came from. The urge to shut down and cut everybody out had felt far too tempting. You glanced at him, holding the phone tight in your hands. This could be the last time you saw him. He’d never come to Daejon, and you couldn’t afford to come back here. Was this really it? The last time you ever saw Hyunjin. A new emotion overwhelmed you, and you weren’t ready to say goodbye so soon. “Can you please just tell me something before I go?”

His hands rest on the steering wheel, and it seemed like he’d already given up on convincing you to stay. His question came out defeated, “What do you want to know?”

You stared at his side profile, “How did you get the pictures? The ones from the booth.”

“I…went back.” He responded, not questioning the randomness of what you’d just said. You were confused, “What? Went back here?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, “Later that night, I went back to the summer carnival. After you’d already left. When we were in the booth, I deleted our pictures before they could be printed, but…they were still saved to the database. The machines have a backup server, they keep the data for a few hours before it’s overwritten.”

“How was that even allowed?”

“The guy that works there, I…asked him for a favor…and he obliged because well, it’s stupid…”

“Tell me.” You breathed, itching to know the story you’d been wondering for so long. His lip curled up into a reminiscent smile, “I promised to sign this album for his little sister. She really liked our band. Anyway, the guy, he let me access the backup, and…I printed them out.”

Your heart jumped at all of this effort, “Why did you do all of that after deleting them?”

He swallowed, “I changed my mind. I told you, Y/N…I wanted to remember that moment. I needed to.”

You looked away into your lap, “Oh…well…thank you for putting them in my sketchbook, but I’m sorry… I lost the pictures.”

“You what?” He looked at you. You breathed, feeling guilty, “They got ruined…so you did all of that for nothing.”

“Oh.”

There was no way for you to get them back. The summer carnival was long over, and the pictures were erased. It was strange how you two talked about them, clinging to a memory that was long gone, and he never questioned you and why you wanted them. He didn’t question why you were so fixated on them or what they could possibly mean to you. Hyunjin nodded, eyes glazing over you as if he lost deep in thought, “How did they get ruined?”

“They got wet in the rain.” You swallowed. He still seemed shocked at your previous statement, “So…you had them with you? I thought that you would throw them away, after we stopped talking…I thought you hated me.”

“You know me. I hold on to things stupidly, even if I was mad at you. Anyway, not that it matters now…” You shrugged. He nodded, like he was still in his head, and then he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He opened it, pulling out a strip. Your eyes widened. 

He had them. In his wallet.

“You made a copy?” You couldn’t believe it. He let out a laugh, saying, “I went to a lot of effort for these, Y/N. Do you really think I wouldn’t have made a copy?”

“And… they’re in your wallet.” You realised. He swallowed, “Yeah”

“Have they been in your wallet this whole time?”

He blinked, “Yeah. In hindsight, it was a really stupid decision because if I ever lost it, anybody could have seen these. Guess I haven’t been thinking straight, but…you can have my copy”

You delicately grabbed it from him, and it was only worth a few coins but you handled it like it was worth millions. It was a treasured memory. A moment when you’d given in to each other completely, and you had been so happy then. You'd give anything to have those secret moments again, even if they stayed a secret forever. Nothing had felt as rewarding as his lips on yours, making you feel like he wanted you just as bad.

His copy was wrinkled, like he’d taken it in and out of his wallet a million times to look at it. Your copy used to be pristine, it stayed in your sketchbook but his…it was tattered with use. There were folds after every image, and you slowly moved your fingers over them. Your voice was soft, “Have you really changed your mind?”

“About what?” He asked, curiously. You looked at him, “You showed up at my doorstep. It must have been…for something.”

“I changed my mind about a lot of things…” He spoke, the dim streetlights reflecting in his eyes. Curiosity overwhelming you, your voice was a whisper, “You said you were running away too. What made you stop?”

In the darkness of the car, the shadows on his face were intense, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “That night in the car. You said that… all this time you haven't been okay, and that you still aren’t and I couldn’t stop thinking about that. You said you didn’t know the real me, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Who I was in Daejon, that’s…the best version of me, and it took me a really long fucking time to realize that. It was an asshole move that I did. I know I apologized to you, but I wanted to do it again tonight. I’m…really fucking sorry for pushing you away, Y/N. I should have just explained what was going on.” He paused, “But…I guess I’m too late since you’re leaving anyway, right?”

You looked away from him to the snow on his windshield, “Yeah, what will I do in Seoul anyway?”

“He should be the one that’s scared of you, not the other way around”

“Why would he be scared of me?”

“Because you can literally ruin him, and his career. Who knows if you’re the first person he did this to?”

“Well, clearly nobody spoke up against him yet. He’s a legend. Nothing I say will change that, and I…really don’t want to deal with the repercussions of this. I just…want to stay away from it and pretend it never happened.”

He sighed, “I have to tell you about Karina”

“What?” You looked at him.

“She’s…a friend, I guess. A couple of months ago, I asked her if she could get me in touch with Jieong. I wanted to talk to him for you, but she said she isn’t on good terms with him. Something about the way she said it makes me think that she’s been through something similar, like you, and that’s not fair. He doesn’t just get to do that and still have a fucking platform where people worship him.”

Frustration crawled from your chest, “What am I supposed to do about that, Hyunjin?”

He squeezed the steering wheel, “I don’t know, but I’ll help you figure it out. You’ve wanted to come to the city your entire life, you even hid it from your friends, you worked every summer for it. You can’t just give that up so easily. You have to stay.”

“Stay and do what, Hyunjin?”

He turned to face you, shifting closer in the little space, and his voice was quaking with nervousness, staring right into your eyes, “I don’t know. We’ll figure that out too, but…I know you, and this isn’t you. What you did, coming here all by yourself, getting into the program, that wasn’t easy. You did something most people can only dream of, and I know I didn’t express myself well, and that I should have told you sooner but I’m… I’m so fucking proud of you. My first few years here, the only reason I could survive was the members but you…you did that all by yourself. But… you’re not alone, not anymore. If you want to report Jieong, I’m going to help you. If you don’t want to do that, I’ll respect your choice.” He swallowed to breathe, lip trembling, “If you want to stay away from that drama, I’ll understand, but please…please don’t stay away from me.”

Your eyes widened, hearing his plea, and your heart was beating so loud you feared it’d burst out of your chest. Your gaze searched his, and all you saw was honesty and…fear. 

For the first time ever, you recognized the look on his face. 

He was scared of losing you. 

He had flown all the way here just to say this to you, and despite how horrible everything seemed…he was here with you. Your heart was shaking, unable to comprehend this side of Hyunjin, and you found yourself saying, “Tell me about the Christmas lights.” 

His eyes lit up, “They… they’re beautiful. They cover the whole city with them, it looks like a dream and…you have to see it. If not for long, at least stay till then, and…you can make your decision after that.”

Your eyes flickered over his form, and the desperation in his face that made your heart beat faster than it had in a while, “Okay.”

He let out a breath like he couldn’t believe your words, “Okay?”

“The lights better be worth it, Hyunjin.” You spoke, and he laughed, at your words in slight disbelief and relief. You felt a strange sense of relief too, as he drove you back.

»»————-

Hyunjin was in your apartment again. He helped you bring the suitcases up, and he was breathing heavy as he shut the door. The snow had stopped, but the temperatures had dropped more. He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them. Your apartment wasn’t much warmer, but it was still a relief to be indoors, after the long night you’d had. You looked at him from across the room, standing in your little kitchen, “Do you…want tea?”

He stood out so much in this little space. He looked at you, “I can make it for us.”

“No, that’s fine…” You declined his offer, turning to your cupboard to bring out the little box of specialty tea you’d procured from a nearby market. In your peripheral, he simply nodded, looking around the living room. You’d unknowingly put as much distance between the two of you. Him being in your space made you so nervous. Earlier, you were in such a rush, but now…he could actually see things for what they were. You’d ripped your art from the walls, but other traces of you were still here. Your little tray of knick-knacks on your coffee table, the fluffy pink blanket on your couch, and the little plants that decorated the space. You hadn’t bothered packing them up, and now you were glad you hadn’t because you wouldn’t want to redecorate all over again. He stood still near the door, taking everything in. 

“You can take your coat off.” You realised belatedly. He seemed uncomfortable in it, and it was wet from the snow. He looked at you, “Right. Okay.”

You’d taken yours off, and you stood in your white sweater. He slipped his coat off, and he wore a black turtleneck inside. He seemed so awkward. You were too. You knew that things wouldn’t just go back to normal, you couldn’t just pick up where you’d left off. Instead you watched the water in the pot boil, bubbles coming to the surface. 

“Have you been to Myeondong yet?” He suddenly asked. You looked at him, stirring the water, “Uh, not yet. What is it?”

“You haven’t? It’s a popular street here. They have a lot of shops, boutiques and food. They have really good street food. I think you’d like it.”

“Do you go often?” You asked, and stopped yourself from suggesting that perhaps he could take you. He replied, “No, it’s…too crowded. I can go but the company doesn’t recommend it.”

You nodded, turning back to the pot, glad you hadn’t asked only to be shut down by him. It was stupid to think otherwise, “Right. You need their permission. Do they know you’re here?”

You heard a soft sigh, and perhaps you’d offended him, “No… I know it doesn’t seem like that but we can still do whatever we want. It’s not like we’re under constant supervision…it just feels like that because they’re not the only ones watching us, we also have to worry about the media, about…anybody with a camera who might see me.”

“I saw Baekhyun at a club once.” You blurted. His eyebrows shot up, “You did?”

“Mmh. He was making out with two girls at the bar, and nobody really seemed to care” You elaborated. He nodded, “Yeah. He’s famous enough to get away with it.”

You bit back a scoff, “Get away with what…? Kissing? You make it sound like a crime, Hyunjin.” 

You were clearly more honest with him than you had been in the past, ridiculing all the crazy stupid standards of the industry he was a part of. Since when did people like him let a commercial, capitalist corporation decide how they live their lives? It irked you that Hyunjin gave into it so easily. Why didn’t he challenge it? Why was he just settling for it?

He seemed to have no response to your accusation, and instead said, “I thought you understood why things are the way they are.”

You did understand, at a point. When he kissed you for the first time, he had very kindly explained to you that he couldn’t let this become anything more. Yet it had. The phone he’d given you lay on the countertop, and you eyed it, “It seems like you really thought things through when getting me this phone. So what exactly happened…?”

“My managers found out about you.” He stated. You glanced at him, surprised how he said it so calmly when it had been his biggest fear, “What? How?”

“Yeah, they…overheard me and the boys at a party.” He said. You blinked, “You were talking about me at a party?”

“Be careful, the water’s going to boil over.” He stepped closer. You looked back at the pot, realizing this, and turned the stove off. He continued, “And yes. It was at the album release party. I called you that night”

“Oh” You recalled, and he had been drunk on the phone that night and you had wished to be next to him, “I remember…”

“So, anyway…they found out about you that night. It was my mistake…and they gave me a bunch of documents, and I don’t know I guess I kind of freaked out.” He came to stand opposite you, crossing his arms against his chest. His sweater was so tight on him and his arms bulged when he crossed them. You couldn’t help but notice.  It was tucked into his pants, a thick belt holding them up. You leaned against your kitchen counter, facing him, “What kind of documents?”

“A…press release statement, and an NDA.” He cleared his throat, “I guess they thought we were dating.”

“Oh. So is that what happened then? Why you acted the way you did?”

“Some of it. I didn’t want to involve you in any of that legal stuff, and they didn’t believe me when I said we were just friends. Things were spiraling with Chan and the others, not that it’s their fault, but I…I guess cutting you out felt like the easiest choice to make at the moment.”

You looked away from him, a pang resonating in your chest at those words, and bitterness filled you. Maybe it was a mistake calling him here. Maybe he should leave. He noticed the drop in your expression, “Did I say something wrong?”

“It was easy?” Your voice was hollow in the little apartment, heart-shattering at his admittance.

“What?”

You glanced at him, “Cutting me out was easy for you?”

He gulped, staring at you and his eyes burned through you, as his lips parted to say, “No, it was…the hardest thing I ever did.”

For some reason beyond your understanding, you believed him. Everything in you wanted to believe him. It was a genuine response.

“The tea,” You said, realizing you’d forgotten it. You wanted to ask him a lot more about how the past months had been in your absence, but you’d take it slow. This was a lot for one night. 

He stood up straighter, “Yeah.”

You turned around, reaching into your cabinet to take out two little mugs. You didn’t have much crockery, you hardly had people over much, and Hyunjin stepped up to help you. “Is everything you own pink?” He asked, taking the little mug from you.

You looked at him, embarrassed, “Just the mugs…”

“And the blanket…” He pointed out, looking at you. A little, teasing smile tugged at his lips. You fought your own smile, “Just drink the tea, okay Hyunjin?”

He nodded, smiling still, and poured the water into yours and his, levelling them the same. He dropped the tea bags in it, and handed it to you. You grabbed it from him, loving the warmth on your hands, “Oh. This is hot.”

He agreed, testing out a sip, “It’s nice. It was freezing outside”

You nodded, “You can sit, if you want.”

“No, that’s okay.” He shook his head and walked over to your kitchen window, bending down to peer out, “Do you keep it open always?”

“Yeah. I…like the sounds,” You told him, taking another sip, but you ended up burning your tongue, and you sighed, putting your mug away, “I heard you were in Japan. How was it?”

He had his hand out the window now, tracing the melted snowflakes that lay on the ledge, and he spoke, “Tiring, but…beautiful.”

“Kairi told me you were there for an award show?”

He turned to you again, snowflakes disintegrating in his palm, “We were”

“Did you win?”

He laughed, smiling at you, “Yeah. We won…a few. Album of the year.”

“That’s really nice.” You said, warmth blooming in your chest, “You deserved it, I’m sure.”

He laughed again, “You don’t even know who we were up against.”

“Well…” You traced a circle on the kitchen slab, “I don’t, but I heard your album. The day it came out. It was…really nice, Hyunjin.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know you listened to it.” He had a little smile as he spoke. His hair fell into his face, but some of it was tied up behind his head. Him standing with the tea in his hands, in the dim lighting of your kitchen, made him look like a dream.

Your phone buzzed, dragging both your attention to it. Felix was calling. 

“Uh, I should take this.” You told him. Hyunjin’s smile fell, giving way to another neutral expression and he just nodded, “I can head out, if you want me to.”

You looked at him. You wanted him to stay but…for what? Things were awkward, and you were so overwhelmed. Plus, it’d probably be a long call explaining to Felix that you’d actually decided to stay, and that you’d only panicked beforehand. You didn’t look forward to that conversation. Hyunjin was ready to go now though, and you wished he would stay. You wished he would once again ask you to stay. All of his passion from earlier had settled into…awkwardness, like he didn’t know what to do with himself after such a heavy confession, after begging you to stay. 

You spoke, “You haven’t finished your tea.”

He looked down at his mug, and he’d been drinking extra slow or maybe he’d poured more tea for himself just so he could stay here longer and find an excuse to talk to you, “But…Yongbok…”

Your phone kept buzzing, vibrating on the counter. You didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat, “You should talk to him, he must be worried. I… think it’s best if I go, and I should be back at the dorm before morning. I don’t want to raise any suspicion. When I took the early flight here, I told the company it was because I was sick, so…they’d be expecting me to be at home.”

Your heart deflated, and you agreed, “That makes sense.”

There was such a strange bond. You could be angry at him all you wanted, but he was the only person you could be yourself around. The only one who brought you comfort, just by his mere presence, even if he said nothing. You had no idea what the two of you were right now, but you were warming up to him again, and things could almost be okay if this continued.

“But if you want me to stay here with you tonight, I can.” He added, “I don’t…want you to feel alone, not tonight.”

But what about every other night? You would always feel alone without him. Your eyebrows shot up at his suggestion, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I…I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

He nodded, “You’re right. I should go. That’s probably the right thing to do.”

“Okay.” You swallowed. He put his mug away, unfinished tea, and then approached you, “If you…need something, my number is on that phone. You can call me, anytime. Don’t worry about disturbing me or anything.”

“Yeah. Okay”

He exhaled a breath, “I’ll see you soon, then. Goodnight.”

He was so close to you that you could smell the cologne, and you could smell him. His shampoo, or whatever it was. It smelled so good. You forced a smile at him, “Goodnight, Hyunjin.”

He walked to your living room, grabbed his coat, and slipped it on. 

You stood where you were, not wanting to be that close again, not trusting yourself with what you might do and regret. He looked at you from the door, “I’m…really sorry about what happened, with…Jieong, again. You don’t deserve that. Nobody does, but…yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s…not your fault.” You told him, the constantly buzzing phone not letting you think straight. 

“I know, but…I should have been there for you. I’m sorry about that too, but…call me if you need me, please.”

Your heart was crumbling, not being able to comprehend this. After all these months of sadness, was he really in your life again? None of this felt real. It was like a dream you’d conjured up to stop yourself from being so sad, but he was here, right now in your apartment. He turned the knob, and you blurted, “Wait—”

He looked back at you immediately, eyebrows raising in hope, “Yes?”

You stepped up, eliminating the distance between you, looking up at him, “Do you really mean it?”

His eyes searched yours, “Yeah.”

“You won’t get in trouble? If I contact you? What if…your managers find out about the other phone? Will you have to block me again?”

Hyunjin stared at you, and there was a determination in his eyes that you’d never seen, and a confidence, “They won’t find out.”

“If they do?”

He swallowed, gaze falling to your mouth briefly, “I’m willing to take that risk.”

“Oh.”

Your phone kept buzzing. He spoke, “You should really take that call. He would be worried.”

“You’re right.”

He glanced at you one last time, before leaving. 

You picked up your phone, voice shaky. You told Yongbok you’d decided to stay and when he asked you why, you didn’t know what to say. All your reasoning had blended into a mush of emotions and longing. Hyunjin must have said something really convincing back in the car, but you couldn’t remember what any of it was. You just knew that it had worked. You talked to him for the rest of the night. It was chilly and you should have gotten into bed, but you lingered in the kitchen for hours. It still smelt like him.

»»————-

You were woken up by a ringtone you didn’t recognise. Sitting up in bed, a heavy feeling settled in your chest. This had been happening for the past week. Each morning was compounded by sadness. As soon as you were conscious, you’d remember what happened with Jieong. Today, disorientation overtook the sadness. 

A phone was ringing. 

The ringtone…was a stupid silly love song that you were obsessed with back in Daejon. You reached for your laptop, pausing a rerun of The Vampire Diaries. You must have fallen asleep watching it, and you couldn’t comprehend what episode you were on now, having missed most of it in your asleep. Grabbing the blanket around your shoulders, you trudged to your living room, and sure enough, your new phone was buzzing. There was only one person who had this number. It was still baffling how Hyunjin bought you a flip fucking phone just so you could talk to him.

hyunjin hey, i just wanted to make sure it was working so i guess this is a test message you yea. its working. hyunjin oh im sorry. did i wake you up? you yup  hyunjin sorry…i hope you got enough rest. how did yongbok take it? you he was disappointed. he really wanted me to come home.

hyunjin i can imagine. did he ask why you changed your mind? you why? you want me to tell him that it was because of you? hyunjin it was? you i don’t know hyunjin. im still trying to figure it out. im kind of all over the place. hyunjin i understand

You stared at his texts, and this must have been the millionth time he had said sorry, but did he even know what he was sorry for? So much had happened in his absence, and it seemed like he had no idea what his loss had meant to you. Every conversation still felt like walking on eggshells, you didn’t know what he wanted from you now. Did he still have feelings for you? The night in the Atelier, he had said everything to get you to stay, yet nothing at the same time. All of his words were so carefully constructed for you, and you wish he’d been clear about what he wanted. Your heart was so fucking torn and confused. A part of you was still pushing Hyunjin away, and perhaps your anger was still lingering. But oh, you missed him so much.

He wanted you to see Christmas. You found yourself searching through search engines for pictures of Seoul during that festive time, and it sure looked beautiful and pretty, but it didn’t seem like a big enough deal. He must really love Christmas or something. You glanced over at your suitcases that lay at the edge of your bed, second-guessing everything when your phone began ringing, and you didn’t have the heart to ignore him. You crawled over to where it lay on the nightstand, and put the phone to your ear, listening quietly.

“Hey.” He spoke, a relief in his tone, “You picked up.”

You lied back down, pulling your covers over yourself, “I did.”

“What are you doing right now?” He asked. You stared at your ceiling, “I was watching a show…” You hadn’t been the most responsive tonight or this past few days. You were having trouble figuring out what this new relationship between you and Hyunjin meant. “You…haven’t unpacked?” He asked. You shrugged, “No. I’d prefer having it ready to go if I change my mind.”

There was a pause on the other end, “Right. Well, if you do plan on leaving, I hope you don’t do it in the middle of the night again. It’s not very practical.”

He was joking about it, but for some reason it made you smile, “Yup. I’ll be sure to wait until dawn next time.”

“Back when I was at the academy, I always had my suitcase packed up under my dorm bed, and I hid it there, just in case I needed to leave one night.”

“Why would you need to leave?” You frowned. He chuckled, harshly, “Um, training was hard. I almost quit…a lot of times.”

“Why was it hidden?” You sat up. It felt weird that you’d known him all this time but never known this. He laughed, “I was too nervous to admit I was scared. If I thought of quitting, it would make the other trainees think I was weak. I couldn’t let them see that. That’s the fastest way to be targeted.”

You heart hurt at the thought of a younger Hyunjin being scared, “You never told me that…”

“Yeah, it’s…something I don’t really like to talk about.”

“I’m sorry for making you think about it.” You bit your lip, feeling guilty for reminding you of a worse time. His tone was light to reassure you, “It’s not your fault. I guess seeing you the other night reminded me…of me.”

“Yeah. Why are you up at this time though?” You glanced at your bedside clock. He spoke, “I’m waiting for the guys to get home. They’re coming back from Bangkok tonight, and they have a late flight. I hope you’ve been getting enough sleep though.”

It was a strange feeling, knowing you and him were in the same city, unable to fall asleep. This was a first. You wish you could call him over, and maybe you could help each other fall asleep. Holding him would definitely help all your worries, and you could imagine how warm his body would be to cuddle. Would he even fit in your bed and on your cheap mattress, or would you have to be on top of each other? The thought made your heart squeeze. You were so tired of holding back all these thoughts, you wanted to be able to say them out loud. There was no point keeping these feelings to yourself, but for now, it didn’t seem appropriate for this new friendship you two were discovering. You swallowed your desires, saying, “I have to go to the Atelier this week to withdraw my application.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“What?” Yes. Yes. You wanted him with you all the time.

“I just thought that you might feel anxious, and…I can wait for you. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you can let me know and I’ll take you home.”

It was funny how he always knew the right thing to say, pushing all the right buttons that made your dopamine go batshit insane. It was funny that he was perfect for you, yet you still weren’t together.

“But you can’t even be seen in public with me.” You responded, and you hated thinking with your head and not your heart. He was quick to offer a solution, “I’ll…be in my car. It’ll be fine. Nobody will know I’m there.”

You chewed on your lip, considering your options, “You don’t have to go through all of that effort. It just sounds like an inconvenience for you to be there.”

There was silence on the other end, and Hyunjin spoke, “I don’t want you to be around Kim Jieong by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine.” The idea of Hyunjin accompanying you sounded tempting, but you couldn’t take responsibility for something like that. You’d caused him enough trouble in his life as is.

»»————-

Later that week, the receptionist of the Atelier was staring at you, a disapproving look on her face, “Are you sure? Once you input this request, you can’t change your mind.”  

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m…positive” You spoke, hands flat on the front desk. She frowned, “You’re… positive that you want to withdraw your admission?”

The words sent a pang through your chest, a cruel reminder to your predicament, but you nodded, “Yeah.”

A familiar, comforting voice suddenly rang through the lobby, and you turned to see Jeonghan run up to you, a huge portfolio bag in hand. He was a sight for sore eyes. He looked so relaxed in his bucket hat and an oversized mint-green cardigan, with a smile on his face, “Y/N! Are you feeling any better?” …Right. He thought you were sick. He thought that’s the reason you hadn’t shown up to any classes. You smiled up at him. You hadn’t seen him in a while, “Yeah. Can you just give me a second? I’ll finish up here.”

“Sure. I'm just waiting for my friend anyway.” He nodded, slinging an arm around you, pulling you close. The receptionist blinked at you, unfazed by Jeonghan’s affectionate arrival, “And you’ve spoke to Mr. Jieong about this?”

“Yes, I’m sure he knows” You spoke, “Spoken to him about what?” Jeonghan asked, looking at you. You bit your lip, glancing up at him, “I… it’s not important”

He frowned, a sassy look on his face, “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“I can’t withdraw your admission unless you get your professor's signature" The receptionist said, handing you back your documents.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jeonghan laughed. You sighed, stepping away from the front desk and he tagged along, “I’m fucking tripping, right? Or did she just say you’re withdrawing your admission?”

You shrugged, staring at the documents in your hand, “I don’t know, I can’t afford it anymore. I have to talk to Jieong. Do you know where he is?”

“Probably in his office.” He said, “But are you not going to explain what’s going on?”

“I can’t get into it right now. Will you please come with me? I don’t want to be by myself.” You asked. He spoke without hesitation, “Of course I’ll come with you.”

You felt a different kind of terror and disappointment when you entered Jieong’s office. Jeonghan was right next to you, holding your hand and he didn’t even know what was happening but you were glad to have his support. Kim Jieong was hunched over his desk, looking through what seemed like portfolios, until he noticed the two of you walk in. He smiled brightly at you as if nothing had ever happened, “What brings the two of you in?”

You stared at him, figuring out what you could possibly say. Jeonghan’s hand was on the small of your back, and he squeezed you lightly as if encouraging you, and he said, “Just accompanying a friend.”

You looked at Jieong, and the way he sat like a king in his chair, and spoke, “I…needed your signature on something.”

“Nate. Do you mind if I speak to Y/N alone?” He asked, sending him a sweet smile. Jeonghan nodded, “Sure, of course.”

You could say nothing as he left you two alone. Jieong took off his glasses, staring at you, “This is ridiculous, Y/N.”

“I can’t do the classes anymore” You told him. His eyebrows shot up, “After everything you did to get in, you’re giving up like that? I know it’s hard, but don’t be so temperamental.”

“I’m not giving up. I’ll…still paint” You mumbled. He tilt his head, “For yourself? Where is that going to get you? I just think you’re making a big mistake.”

You swallowed, “So what, I come just back to classes and pretend nothing happened?”

“Well, what did happen, Y/N?” He chuckled, “I came to check in on you. As a concerned adult, I am responsible for my student, and you just ran away. And then you decided to skip classes for some reason. Now you’ve lost the chance for the scholarship, but you can still continue in the program.”

You stared at him, not even realising that of course he’d deny everything. You wondered if you should address it, but maybe now was the only time you could. “You…you said I should convince you.”

He leaned forward on his desk, “By making your greatest painting yet, of course. How…else? You are an artist at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“Can you please just sign my document so I can leave?” You spoke, more venom in your tone than you intended. He was pretending it didn’t happen. He frowned, clicking at his pen, “You’ve already paid for the next few months classes. You’re just going to let that go to waste?”

Were you making a big mistake? You were acting too much on emotion. Yet you couldn’t imagine being in the same room as him again, and feeling comfortable. He had ruined this for you.

“You used to be my favourite artist...” You said, almost accusatory. He stood up, the sound of his chair dragging against the wood was loud, “Used to be? Does someone else have your heart now?”

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket, Hyunjin must be calling you, and Jieong stepped around his table, walking closer to you. You hated this. You hated looking at him, and feeling this fear and anxiety when you should only feel admiration. “Please. I just need your signature and I’ll be gone. I haven’t said anything to anybody and I’m probably moving back home anyway, so please just do this for me.”

He crossed his arms, talking so nonchalantly as if this were a casual conversation, “No. If I let you withdraw, that’d be wasting your talent and potential.”

“So you want me to stay in the program?”

“That’s all I’ve wanted since day one.” He laughed, “You’re one of my most talented.”

Your head was beginning to hurt, “Then why did you cancel my scholarship…and why are you being like this?”

“I’m not being like anything. I’m just asking you to consider staying in the program. I don't know why you're so insistent on running away.” He stepped closer, and a month ago, his tone would could comforted you but not anymore. You made sure you were near the door so you could leave if you needed to, and you tried to find the least offensive way to say what you felt, “What do you mean? You made me uncomfortable the other night.”

“What did I do? Am I not allowed to check up on my students anymore?” He was acting clueless, and it pissed you off.. You felt insane like you were speaking to a child who couldn’t comprehend anything, “I don’t know…you tried to grab me.”

“No offence, Y/N, but you’re not exactly my type. In case you forgot, I’m a married man.” He held up his hand, showing you his wedding band, “If anything, you’re the one who’s been coming on to me.”

“What? No, I haven’t.”

“Really?” He didn’t seem like he believed you, and you didn’t have to justify yourself anyway. You felt frustrated by the way he was addressing this situation, making you feel crazy. “I’ve …never come on to you. That’s…insane. I have a boyfriend. I would be crazy to do that, not to mention how…inappropriate that is. Do you think I’d risk my—”

“You have a boyfriend? What you told me the other night was different.” He tilt his head. You were only going in circles and not going anywhere, as you said, “I try to keep my professional and personal life separate.”

“What’s his name?” He asked, clicking the pen in his hand, the noise driving you mad. You almost ended up saying Hyunjin’s name, until you realised you obviously couldn’t fucking do that. Hyunjin couldn’t be the convenience in this case, you don’t know what Jieong could do with that information, especially if he found out who Hyunjin really was. You swallowed, “Nate. Obviously.”

Jieong’s expression shifted, “I see.”

You weren’t sure if he believed you or not, but you wouldn’t stick around to find out, “I don’t even know why I’m talking about this with you. I just need you to give me my documents, so I can leave.”

“I’ll think about it.” He spoke. Your eyes widened, “What?”

“You can come collect them later, in case I change my mind.” He said, returning to his desk and sat down nonchalantly. You stared at him in disbelief, not wanting to start an argument or make him mad. This was pointless. You left his office, feeling worse than before, informing the receptionist that you couldn’t even fucking resign right now. Everything felt harder than it should be. A hurdle for everything. Getting into this program had been impossible, and it seemed like getting out of it was just as tough. 

The phone in your bag kept buzzing, and you stepped into the bathroom, picking up his call, “What?”

“Y/N…” Hyunjin seemed surprised at your tone, “I…was trying to reach you. What happened?”

Your eyes brimmed with tears of frustration, “Nothing. I’ve had a bad day. Why were you calling me so much?”

“I was going to come to the Academy. Are you still there?”

“You’re what?” Your voice shot up. His voice was calm on the other end, “I can’t let you speak to Jieong alone.”

“Where are you right now? You can’t come. They keep a record of every visitor and… you can in trouble with your company for being here. And I already talked to him so there isn’t any point.” You spoke. It was also frustrating how you wanted Hyunjin to be there for you, but you had to think of his life and his job always first, before yourself. It had always been the case though. He was quiet for a minute and then said, “You were alone with him? Where are you right now?”

“Nate was with me.” You said, staring at yourself in the mirror, and you looked like shit, in a hoodie you had worn for three days straight, “He’s…waiting for me outside.”

“I see…” Hyunjin responded, “I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you.”

You sighed, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Hyunjin. I’m fine. Jieong was absolutely useless though. He didn’t even let me withdraw! He was…being cryptic, and frustrating. I had to tell him Nate’s my boyfriend just to get him off my back.”

Hyunjin’s response was dry, “Oh. Okay.”

“I mean… I was lying.” You were stupidly justifying yourself, and he mumbled, “Yeah. Makes sense…I haven’t been able to focus on anything else but you since I woke up, so I just thought it’d be better if I came over there.”

“You don’t have to leave work for me, Hyunjin." You suddenly felt guilty, "I’m sorry we haven’t talked much. I just haven’t been in the best state of mind.”

“I just…want you to know that I’m here, if you ever want to talk about it. I’m sorry that you’re having a bad day.”

“Don’t worry about it, it's not your fault or anything.” You mumbled. He said, “I’ve been thinking and…I want to take you somewhere. I think it’ll take your mind off things.”

The request excited you, but coming from Hyunjin’s mouth, you couldn’t really believe it, “Somewhere in the city?”

“Yeah.”

“But is that allowed? For you to be seen with me in public?” It was the only question you had. You didn’t mean for it to sound so cold. It came out harsher than intended. Allowed as if Hyunjin was a child who needed permission to do anything he desired. He was quiet, and you feared you’d crossed the line, but then he suddenly said, “I…asked my manager for permission.”

At those words, your eyes widened. That was certainly something you hadn’t expected. “And what did you say?”

He let out a nervous chuckle, “I may have lied and told him my cousin was visiting from America and that it was my… responsibility to show them around the city. He obviously can’t stop me from hanging out with family, even if it’s in a crowded place.”

“So…I have to pretend to be your cousin?”

He laughed, “No. God, no. You don’t have to pretend to be anything. You can…be yourself. It’s just gonna be me and you.”

“Really?” You didn’t know what this was. Hyunjin was…definitely opening up to you in a way he hadn’t in months. You had no idea what to make of it. Perhaps this meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he was only being friendly to make up for his behavior.

“Yeah. Is that okay with you? If it’s just…us?”

Just you and him. You’d craved for him this whole time. He seemed nervous since you hadn’t answered, “Y/N?”

“I’m here,” You said. He must have expected that you hung up. “Oh,” He replied, his tone relieved at hearing your voice. 

“So where did you want to take me?”

“You said that you haven’t been to Myeon-dong, and… that’s a crime. I was hoping to show you around.” He added, “But I… don’t know. I would understand if you were still pissed about… what I did, and if you don’t want to go.”

“I’m not pissed…” You thought about his words, “I’m just kind of confused, Hyunjin.”

“About me?”

“No, actually, let’s not discuss this over the phone…things get misinterpreted and… I’m really tired right now,” You mumbled. Hyunjin suddenly wanted to hang out with you again and this was a lot to unpack and shouldn’t be done now. He agreed, “You’re right. I'm sorry again that I couldn’t see you. I really didn’t want you to feel like you had to do that alone. Because I’m here, for you. I know I haven’t been but…yeah.”

When he said stuff like that, your stomach twisted. You’d been trying to maintain a line between you and him, a boundary based on all of the recent events, yet it felt futile. Your voice dropped, “Yeah, thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You nodded, and a part of you already felt lighter at this proposition, “See you then, Hyunjin.”

You stepped out, making your way to the entrance and Nate spotted you. He ran up to you, pulling you into a half-hug, “How’d it go with Jieong? I can’t believe he kicked me out of his office.”

You shrugged, squinting under the sun, “I may have told him you were my boyfriend…”

He laughed, a smirk on his face, “What? Is that your way of asking me out?”

It was kind of nice that he had no idea what was going on. You could still pretend that things were normal. You felt embarrassed, pushing your hands in your pockets, “Jeonghan…no.”

“I know. I know. I’m kidding” He smiled, then took off his bucket hat, placing it on your head to protect you from the sun, “You need to get yourself a pair of sunglasses.”

“Thanks” You smiled. It was nice to be distracted from your disastrous exchange with Jieong. He looked around at all of the art students walking to classes, then back to you, “So are you coming back to class on Monday? You know it sucks without you, right?”

“Really? I take it you guys miss me a lot then.” You smiled. He rolled his eyes, “Of course I do. Honestly, you were my favorite thing about it, especially this last semester. Jieong’s got a stick up his ass for some reason. Anyway, me and Minnie miss you. Well, me more than her. I don’t have anybody to teach me your crazy ass techniques anymore. I mean, you’re the only one who can make me get my hands willingly dirty and paint with them.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “They weren’t crazy. I thought you enjoyed painting with your hands. You’re a dick.”

He grinned, tapping your hat, “Only for you.”

You then noticed the black and gold bags at his feet, “So, what’s in the bags?”

“Unfortunately, nothing for you.” He sighed. “I was shopping for a tuxedo. Actually, now that you're here, I did have a crazy favor to ask you.”

You looked up at him, in anticipation, “Yeah? What’s the favour?”

“My sister, she lives in Busan, I told you, right? Well anyway, she’s getting married next Saturday, which is crazy in itself but…long story short, you’re coming with me. There’s no way I’m surviving that alone.”

“You want me to be your plus-one?” You asked. He shrugged, “I mean, you already told Jieong you’re my girlfriend…so it doesn’t hurt to keep up appearances does it?”

“I mean, I have to think about it. Do I have to dress up fancy and all?” You asked. He nodded, “Yeah, a formal dress preferably, but if anyone can pull that off, it would be you. You being by my side would actually make it bearable. Will you think about it and let me know? If you absolutely can’t go, that’s okay, I’ll take Minnie along, but… I’d…really prefer if it was you. After all, I can’t make out with Minnie when I’m drunk.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s almost like you’re trying to convince me not to go.”

He smiled, “Please let me know about it. I gotta go meet my friend now. I’ll hopefully see you next Saturday?”

Maybe going to a fancy wedding would take your mind off things, and you smiled as he kissed your cheek goodbye, “No promises.”

»»————-

This was the Seoul you’d seen in the movies. It’s as if you’d stepped into a full spread of a magazine that you’d fawn over in your school library as you stared at Myeon-dong street. A seemingly endless alley of shops, food, and anything a person could want for. It was the afternoon, and it seemed to be the busiest time as throngs of people filtered in and out through the streets. Your gaze fell upon families, couples, and teenagers filling the streets still in their school uniforms.

There was a newspaper stand set up next to you, selling magazines and papers of all kinds, it even had some pop merchandise, random objects with pictures of idols on them, ranging from socks to mugs to paper fans. It was bizarre. The lady at the shop smiled at you, “Looking for something in particular?”

“Um, no, I was just looking.” You shook your head. She was dressed really well, and she smiled at you, “What’s your favorite group, sweetie?”

Your eyes meandered over the merchandise, and for a moment you considered saying the name of Hyunjin’s band but quickly decided against it, “Uh, I don’t listen to…” Just then, a teenage girl and her friend came behind you, filming a vlog of some kind, and the lady asked them the same question, her attention switching in a millisecond away from you, “Looking for something?”

To your surprise, the girl enthusiastically nodded, “Yes, please! Could we get a Hwang Hyunjin and Changbin necklace?”

Your eyes widened, and you stepped away from the stall to hide your reaction. You could see the lady reach into her supplies, pulling out several decorative items, along with t-shirts and necklaces. Hyunjin was on half of them, and a strange sense of pride and wonder filled you. That must be so fucking weird for him, but you suppose it also must be satisfying to be this famous. The teenage girl immediately reached for the Hyunjin necklace, a pendant with his name carved out in silver, and it was actually pretty, and not tacky, and a part of you wanted to get one for yourself but he’d think you were crazy if you did. She immediately put it around her neck, a big smile on her face. You stepped away, a strange jealousy building in your stomach.

It was almost the time he said he’d meet you here, so you walked to the junction, hands pushed into your deep coat pockets, looking around for the familiar face.

In the midst of the crowd, he was waiting for you.

He stood tall in a suede trench coat, a turtleneck, and a bag slung around him. He wore a black mask, obscuring his face from the onlookers, but people were still looking at him. Of course they were. He didn’t need to show his face to be the most beautiful man in the room.

He was looking around too, and you waited for him to notice you. Would you stand out to him too, like he did to you? Could he pick you out of a crowd of hundreds?

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, wondering if he would call and ask where you were. But then he noticed you. Even in this distance, you saw his eyes light up in recognition, and immediately, he stepped ahead, pushing through the moving crowd to get to you. You waited where you were, as he got closer and closer. Your heart pound to a different beat now. You had no idea what today would be about or what any of this meant to him, and one of the reasons you’d agreed to meet was to find out. He finally approached you, and his eyes crinkled as you imagined the hidden smile under his mask, “You’re here…”

You nodded, looking up at him, “Have you been waiting long?”

He shook his head, voice muffled, “No, don’t worry about it.”

You wish you could see him without the mask, but too many people here could recognise him. “There’s a couple of places I wanna show you.” He said, gesturing you to move. You walked next to him, and the tight space pushed you two together, arms brushing mistakenly. You looked around, “There’s a lot of people here”

“Mmh. It’s one of the busiest times of the day.”

“Why did you pick this time then?” You glanced up at him. He looked at you, “Well…Right now, we can just blend into the crowd. If there’s less people, we’re more likely to be noticed, and draw attention.”

So he had thought of that, and he was right. You weren’t really looking at other people because there were just far too many to keep track of, so they likely wouldn’t be looking at you too. To them, you just seemed like a normal couple on a day out. Your arms brushed against each other the whole time, and his hand hovered over your back. You kept sneaking glances at him, and it was harder because you were moving so fast, and he was taller and there was only so much of him you could see. Every time there was a change in the crowd, he’d quickly switch sides, grabbing your arm to keep you close. When you looked at him, his eyes crinkled as he tried to justify, “Just making sure I don’t lose you.”

The words sent a flutter through you, and you asked him, trying to be heard over the cacophony of sounds, “Did you know shops here sell merchandise with you?”

He looked back at you, distracted. He was seemingly too focused on finding his way through the crowd, “Um, yes, I’ve seen a few. Wait… this place has the best fried chicken, you need to try it. If we come later in the evening, there will be a really long wait for it. Changbin once made me wait two hours for it.”

“Oh, wow. Was it worth it?” You asked, stopping at what looked like an inconspicuous stall. He laughed, “I don’t know about that, but I’d do anything for Changbin, so I definitely wasn’t complaining. Anyway, the last time I was here, I could’t help but wonder what you’d think of it.” He then ordered a plate for the two of you, and you watched the vendor prepare it. It already smelled amazing, and you eagerly waited, hands in your pockets, “So do you come here with the guys often?”

He shook his head, “No, we haven’t gone out in a while. We’ve been so busy with promotions….and the album, haven’t really found time to relax.”

“I’m sorry. That sounds stressful. Do you not get any vacations?”

The vendor had finished preparing the chicken and was now seasoning it, sprinkling all kinds of spices over it. Hyunjin shrugged, “I think I used up my lifetime of vacations in Daejon.”

“Right.” You recalled all of his months there, “I hope you still got paid for it.”

He shook his head, face buried in the front of his coat, “It was still worth it though. I got to meet you.”

You blinked, wondering how and why he said such soul-changing stuff so casually. Like at a fucking chicken stall on the sidewalk. How did these things come so easily to him, but love so difficulty? You shrugged, “Right. I guess that’s why you didn’t need me anymore when you came back home.”

It was a joke, obviously, but Hyunjin’s eyebrows crinkled, “Y/N…”

“Oh, look, our food is ready.” You changed the topic, suddenly feeling guilty for bringing it up, and not wanting this to be awkward. He didn’t protest at your lack of subtlety, “Yeah. Come on, we can go into this alley so we’re not in everyone’s way.”

You followed him into a nearby alleyway. It was less crowded, so Hyunjin seemed more at ease at not being recognized yet you could see he was still a bit on edge as he kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with any passerby. He leaned against a brick wall, and you stood opposite him, savoring some of the chicken. He asked you, “You like it?”

To be honest, you couldn’t even process what you were eating. It was kind of hard to focus on other things when he was here, and this could have been the best chicken in the world but your internal monologue ran on a loop of Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. It was annoying, and you wish you could focus on the environment you were in, on the other people around you, on the street food. But you nodded, your crazy urge to be a people-pleaser and said, “Yeah, this is so fucking good. Are you gonna have some?” 

He shook his head, laughing, “I’m good. I’m just glad you like it.” You hummed, “Thank you for making me try it…”

You hated that the mask obscured his face. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you anxious. He didn’t say anything for a while as you ate, like he was building up the courage to ask, until he finally did say, “So…how are you feeling, really? And please…don’t just say you’re fine. I want to know how you’re really doing. And how you’ve been the past few months. I’ve been wondering that for a while.”

Your eyes searched his, and that certainly didn’t seem like street side conversation but it was all you had, “That’s a pretty loaded question, Hyunjin, but I guess it’s good to be out of my apartment. Thanks for bringing me out here. I was kind of getting sick of my routine.”

He nodded, “I can imagine. You hate routines.”

You laughed, surprised that he knew that about you even though at this point, he probably knew you better than any human in the world, “Yeah.”

“Did you tell Nate that you’re thinking of withdrawing? I hope he convinced you to not do that.” He asked, hope in his tone. You shook your head, “No, he was in a really good mood, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“He seems like a really good friend, and I know I didn’t really have the chance to talk to him, but he seems cool.”

“Yeah. He definitely helped. Seeing him had definitely put me at ease.” You reached for another piece of fried chicken, “When I was about to go back home, he didn’t really even cross my mind…but I realized, yeah, it would have been unfair to him if I just left without a word. I would definitely miss him. He was…such a big part of my last few months. I wouldn’t have adjusted to living in the city without him.”

Hyunjin was quiet, and then he spoke, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” You laughed, feeling embarrassed at the memory, but Hyunjin was the one who wanted to know all about your life the past few months, “I was so lost when I moved here. Everything seemed so…scary, but he made it easier for me.” Hyunjin was still staring at you so you elaborated, finding the need to explain, “He…made me meet his friends, he took me out to some really cool bars, and going to class was scary but he’s probably the reason I didn’t go back home sooner… now that I think of it.”

“Oh.” He pushed off the wall, choosing to walk along the alley, and you followed him, trying to keep up with his footsteps. Little hair salons and souvenir shops surrounded you. As you walked, you observed how your feet fit in the cobblestones just so you wouldn’t feel so nervous around him as you replayed the last few months in your head, “Yeah. Wow, I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until you asked. I mean…he had no reason to be so nice to me, especially because…this is embarrassing to talk about—”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, looking at you. It felt weird to think of all those months, but you were only talking about this because he asked. You’d been crying almost every day, because of…well, him. Everything had seemed so hopeless without him in your life, and now…you had bigger problems. Such as your dreams of a lifetime being absolutely fucked and burnt into the dust. So perhaps you had made your peace with what Hyunjin had done. Nothing could have made him change his mind, and there was…no point crying about it. 

You snapped back to reality, realising he was waiting for you to answer and you wonder how honest you should be. Something about how detached he’d been the past few months made it easier for you to open up, “It’s embarrassing because I was really all over the place. I was kind of…depressed? I don’t even know, but…Nate didn’t mind. He was so nice about it.” You then laughed, suddenly remembering the blind date Minnie had set you up on, “Oh, and I had this horrible fucking date, man it was so bad. Some people can be such assholes.”

“You were…depressed?”

You looked up at him, realizing how serious that could sound, “Um, I mean…that’s a big word…I guess.”

“Why…?” He looked at you, confused, eyebrows knitted together in sadness, “You weren’t happy about the apprenticeship?”

The happiness of that could never have compared to the sadness of losing him. You’d really dug yourself into a hole. You wondered how to say this without making it all about him. How could you tell him that he was your favourite thing in the world? You swallowed, “Uh…I…I was kind of lonely, I guess.”

Hyunjin stared at you, something flashing through his eyes, and it looked like…regret, or guilt. You immediately felt bad, gut sinking. He looked away from you, and cleared his throat, blinking, “So…you had a date? With Nate?”

“No, this other guy,” You explained, “A date with Nate would have been a million times better, but no, it was with this total ass. He…just wanted to get into my pants, I guess, and on top of that he also had horrible taste in beer. Nate did rescue me from it.”

“So…then what happened between you and him? At the party, you were…” He trailed off, staring at the ground as he walked, “You guys looked close.”

“I don’t know. We were just…fucking around. It doesn’t mean anything. He kissed me, and I guess that’s how it started.” 

Hyunjin glanced at you, “He kissed you?”

Why did it even matter right now? You clarified, “Technically, I kissed him…after my terrible date. And he returned it. Then, I guess we just…were casual friends who kissed.”

“Oh…Okay” 

“Yeah. You missed a huge chunk of my life.” You chuckled, and you’d finished all the chicken, so he threw the plate away in a trashcan. He then asked, “So…what else did you do in the city ever since you’ve been here?”

“I…uh…not much.” 

“What were your favourite moments?” He asked, “You must have had some good ones, right?”

You drifted off, trying to remember the times you’d been happy, and it was weird how you couldn’t think of many, “Well, when I got accepted. I was the happiest then. Then…when Jieong told me that I was talented, and when my paintings got complimented on in class. I was happy when I discovered a thrift store near my house, and…they had the cutest skirt in my size. It looked really cute on me.”

Hyunjin must be smiling, because you could see his eyes crinkle over the mask, “And?” 

“And…I was happy when I was with Kairi. We found this cute cafe we would go to. They had these really, really good sandwiches. I was happy when…” You stopped.

“When?”

You looked up at him, pushing your hands in your pockets, “When…I saw you, in the storage closet.”

He was quiet, processing your words, and then he said, “We’re almost here. Come on.”

You thought you’d just been walking aimlessly, but it seemed like Hyunjin had a destination in mind this whole time. There was a brick building hidden between K-marts and department shops. It looked abandoned. “Can we even go in?” You asked. He laughed, “Of course.” There was an incognito entrance, hidden from the public as you stepped in through the doors, “Are you sure? It feels like we’ll get murdered in there, Hyunjin.”

He glanced at you, “That’s a funny way of saying you don’t trust me.” 

You shrugged, playing along because it felt nice to pretend that things were normal again, “So, if there was a serial killer in there, you would fight him for me?”

He let out another laugh, looking at you, “I obviously would, and no there isn’t anybody in there, but maybe I should be asking if you would do that for me?”

“Nah, I think I’d sacrifice you so I could get away.” You smiled at him, and he laughed as you entered a fancy corridor. There was a huge map on the wall with different levels marked on it, and far too much detail than you’d expect. You still had no idea where you were. You tried to read it but Hyunjin walked ahead, and you caught up to him asking, “So…where are we?”

“It’s this…really cool concept store, for mainly streetwear. It’s one of a kind, all their clothes are inspired from the 90s and the coolest part is nobody really knows who the designer is. People speculate and such, but it’s anonymous and because their identity is hidden from the world, they can pretty much get away with anything, controversial designs and stuff. Ever since my stylist told me about, I knew I had to bring you here. It’s like…if Banksy made fashion, you know?”

The thoughtfulness of that didn’t miss you. He’d been thinking of you for a while, it seemed, and it looked like he was right. The first room you stepped in was already breathtaking. Cool technology surrounded the open floor plan, a suspended spaceship hung from the center, and clothes of vivid colors were displayed on racks amongst art installations and paintings. It seemed more like a museum than a fashion store. “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding.” You spoke, taking in all the futuristic displays,  “How much are these clothes even worth?”

Hyunjin laughed, “Just the same as any other high-fashion store.”

“So… insanely expensive,” You mumbled, running your hand through the variety of jackets hung up. They were the coolest designs you’d seen, and the precision that must have gone into designing them was obvious. Each had something that made it unique: different fabric patches, pockets of uncanny shapes, and neon colors that you couldn’t imagine pulling off. But in Seoul, there was an outfit for everybody, and these definitely weren’t for you. Each of them felt expensive to the touch, and you probably shouldn’t be touching them like so. 

“I wore something like this for a stage performance last month, and I was so stressed about ruining the sequins the entire time. Do you like any?” Hyunjin asked you, browsing through them too. You laughed, “Um yes, I love them, but I shouldn’t.”

“This one is really cool,” He spoke, eyeing a purple jacket, with lavendar fur on the neckline and sleeve loops. It looked like something aristocrats or royals would wear in Buckingham palace or something, so you laughed when Hyunjin asked, “Do you want to try it on?”

“If I get a speck of dirt on it, would I have to sell my soul?” You raised an eyebrow. Hyunjin scoffed, “You’re allowed to try them on. Come on. There’s a mirror somewhere here.” He grabbed the jacket off the shelf so casually, walking through the maze of displays until you reached a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror. He held the jacket up to you, and you couldn’t take this seriously, “That is so not me. It would look good on like Gigi Hadid or something.”

He rolled his eyes, “Just try it on.”

“Sure. I’ll humour you this once, but after this, I get to pick something ridiculous for you to wear.” You took off your winter coat. Hyunjin grabbed it for you, and you slipped on the purple jacket. Immediately, it felt like you were wearing millions of dollars, rich and thick fabric. It hugged your body perfectly. You turned to the mirror, running your hands over the fur, it was so soft. Wearing this would definitely make anybody feel confident.

Hyunjin hadn't said anything yet. Your eyes darted to his, and he was staring at your reflection. His eyebrows were raised, eyes wide, but you couldn’t see the rest of his face and that bothered you. You held your arms up, turning to the side to observe it, “It’s like a work of art.”

“Yeah. You make it look like one.” Hyunjin spoke. You glanced at him, feeling shy suddenly. He was so observant, so fixated on you.

“Well. Anyway. It’s my turn.” You walked to another section of the store. Hyunjin followed you through all the abstract installations. There must be a narrative behind it, but you were just happy appreciating the visuals. Silver water fountains, clothing displays that moved on their own... everything about this place screamed future. It was inspiring just to be in here. Hyunjin was sifting through a rack of streetwear. A sunglasses case rest next to it, and you stared at them, grabbing a design off the rack.

“You should try this,” You told him, offering him the glasses. His eyebrows shot up and he laughed, “Really? You don’t think they’re tacky? The gold borders?”

“I think they’d look good on you” You mumbled, but kept them back based on his reaction, “But fine, you don’t have to try them if you don’t want to—” 

“I’ll try them, Jesus” He interrupted you with a laugh and put them on. There were mirrors everywhere and he looked at himself. You wonder if he fell in love with himself too each time he saw his reflection. He pushed his hair back, a smirk playing at his lips, “Huh. I actually kind of like that. Makes me feel like a rockstar.”

He sparkled under the store lights. You’d only wanted him to wear it as a joke, but he actually made them look so good. He looked expensive, and... so out of your league. He was absolutely beautiful, and you mumbled, “You are kind of a rockstar. You should get them.” 

He glanced at you, eyebrow raised as if it was even a question. Those glasses seemed to be made for his perfect face. He pulled them off, observing the frame, “You think?”

You just nodded, not trusting what you might blurt. Probably something embarrassing along the lines of how hot he made them look, even though they were just fucking glasses, but him in them was doing something unnatural to your body.

“I can’t remember the last time I bought something for myself” He stated, pushing the glasses up over his head. You leaned against the mirror, looking up at him, “Is it because you always have to wear sponsorships and stuff?”

He nodded, “Yeah. It’s easier in a way because I don’t have to pick out much of my clothes.”

“That’s such a first-world, rich person problem, Hyunjin. I can’t believe you just said that.” You rolled your eyes. He laughed, “Hey, I’m just being honest with you, sorry.”

“You’re pretty lucky. I wish someone would buy my clothes for me” You sighed, “Unfortunately, I don’t have a stylist, and a make-up artist, and a personal shopper and a manager—”

“Stop” Hyunjin laughed, interrupting you, “I think what you pick out for yourself is pretty fantastic.”

“Yeah, I know it is.” You smiled, “So, is there any other cool stuff in this store?”

He nodded, stepping back from the mirror, and his hand fell to your lower back again as he guided you, “Yup. There’s a cafe. That’s where I was initially going to take you until you got distracted by all the jackets.”

The cafe was a beautiful rooftop establishment, looking out at the views of Seoul. You had to hold back your gasp when you walked in. There were hardly any people in, just a few men that looked like CEOs seated at far tables. Your eyes fell to the menu that hung over the counter, where every bakery item was easily more than 30,000 won. Everything was so expensive, and probably explained why this place wasn’t buzzing with people. Not everyone could afford this taste. “You should try the Pain au Chocolat. It’s one of the best in the city.” Hyunjin nudged you. You looked at him, “That statement indicates that you’ve somehow tried all the chocolate croissants in the city.”

He laughed, “Not nearly. I come here with Changbin and Jisung often though. A few weeks ago, I tried it and I just…kept imagining how much you’d like it.” 

You looked back at the menu, feeling giddy at the thought of being on his mind so often, in your absence. You stepped up to the counter, ordering two coffees and croissants. You’d come all this way after all.

“Hey, I got this.” Hyunjin said, stopping you before you could pay. But if he paid for your coffee, it would increasingly make this feel more like a date, which this wasn’t. You couldn’t make yourself feel delusional by thinking it was. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You dismissed him, handing your card to the cashier. He frowned, clearly not happy with the outcome, but you wouldn’t let him buy it for you. The cashier also seemed expensively dressed, with good taste, and she input your order and then said, “Unfortunately ma’am, you can’t wear the store merchandise around.”

You realised you were still wearing the lavendar fur jacket, loving the feel of it on you just like Hyunjin had loved it on you. Gosh, you wish you could never take it off just to see the look in his eyes again. Except you weren’t just playing dress-up. This was probably worth hundreds of thousands. You felt so embarrassed, and you immediately reached to unbutton it, “Shit. I’m so sorry…I can go put it back now.”

Were they going to charge you a lot for this mistake?

“Oh. It’s not merchandise, ma’am. We’re taking it home.” Hyunjin interrupted, and then looked at you, “You can keep it on.”

The cashier just smiled, “Oh, of course. My mistake then. Your order will be out in a few minutes. Have a nice day!”

You gaped at Hyunjin, “What?”

He laughed, tugging your arm to pull you away from the counter.

“Are you insane?”

“Oh, don’t hurt my feelings, Y/N” He joked, leading you to a table in the corner. He sat down, comfortably stretching his legs. You were still processing it, “This cost a fortune, you can’t just do that on a whim. I’m not okay with that.”

He sighed, gesturing at you to sit opposite him, “Come on. It’s not a big deal”

You crossed your arms, “Is this a way to get back at me because I paid for our coffees?”

He laughed, “Only you’d think someone’s getting back at you if they buy you a gift.”

You frowned, sitting down, “Well, I don’t like feeling like I owe someone something. This is far too expensive and I did nothing to earn that”

“Hey. You don’t owe me anything” He leaned forward, “I wanted to buy that for you. You can’t stop me.”

“Why?”

“Because…you look beautiful in it. It’d be a shame for anybody else in the world to wear it, and…” He looked embarrassed, “Because I saw that a few weeks ago and imagined it on you."

His compliment made your heart jump, and you wish you weren't so weak and crumbling over a boy of all things, but you didn’t want to feel ungrateful, “Oh….Thank you…Hyun.”

“So… you’re not mad at me then? You haven't called me that in a while.” He laughed. Your voice fell, touching the expensive material of the jacket, “No…I really love it. It’s beautiful.”

His smile grew, eyes crinkling, “I know. You look great in it.”

You eyed his mask, and that certainly could't be comfortable and you felt brave enough to finally say, “Are you going to wear that thing all day? I can’t even see you...but I guess I understand if you need to.” 

He looked around the cafe. He must have deemed it safe, because there weren’t many people on this floor, so he reached up, slipping his mask out finally. And god, he looked so fucking perfect under it. His nose was red from the cold. His lips were just as plush as you remembered, and they curled up into a beautiful smile for you, “Is that better for you?”

“I hate that you have to hide yourself.” 

His eyes widened just a tad, and perhaps he hadn’t expected you to be so candid, but you just nodded, “Don’t make a big deal out of it or something. Everybody in this country is in love with your face.”

The waitress then brought a tray of your coffees, and croissants, placing them between you. The view of Seoul from here was beautiful. Your heart soared, watching the sun fall on him, and he slipped on his brand-new sunglasses. They really did make him look like a rockstar, with the reflection of the glass buildings in them. He pushed his hair back, but it was a useless gesture because the strands fell back into place, bangs covering his forehead, and his hair had grown out much more. You looked around at the few businessmen in the cafe and asked, “So your managers really don’t mind that you’re out with a girl…on a random weekday?”

He nodded, cutting into the croissant with his knife, “Yeah of course. They don’t have to know.”

You sipped your coffee and then realized what he’d said, “Wait, what? They don’t know you’re here?”

Hyunjin glanced up at you, mid-bite into the croissant, chocolate creaming his lips, “What?”

“You told me you asked him for permission, so you wouldn’t get into trouble.” You stated. Realization sank into his features, and he nodded, “Um, yeah. I did”

Clearly, he was lying…and the fact that Hyunjin lied to his company about today put you on edge. He clearly noticed that. A sigh left his mouth, “Please don’t worry about it, Y/N…I thought everything through. I wanted you to have a good day.”

You couldn’t understand. A few months ago, Hyunjin let go of everything just so it wouldn’t risk his job, and now he was willingly doing this? What changed? Was it that he noticed your desperation to leave and thought he was at fault? Was he doing this all out of guilt, because he asked you to stay? You wouldn’t get any answers out of him right now, so you just decided to enjoy the chocolate croissant. 

“I am having a good day, don’t worry.” You remembered, “By the way I saw some shops out front. They had a lot of merchandise with familiar faces on them…”

“Oh no. What did you see?” He laughed, covering his face in his hands. He was so cute. You smiled, trying not to get distracted by how adorable he looked, “It was cool but I just… couldn’t wrap my head around it. How does it feel having your face literally everywhere?”

He took a long sip of his cappuccino, “Well…it takes some getting used to, but after a point you do.”

“I don’t think I could get used to my face being plastered everywhere, and people having it in their homes and stuff? It makes me anxious just thinking about it” You shuddered at just the thought, “You’re very brave.”

“Well, yeah you’d have your artwork in people’s homes instead.” He shrugged. You looked up at him, surprised, “That’s so far in the future, I can’t comprehend that”

“Maybe I could be your first buyer” He leaned back in his chair, “Would youu sell me one of your paintings for…a half a million won?”

“If you spend that much money on my shitty paintings, people would definitely think you’re sleeping with the artist.” You mumbled. He lift the mug to his mouth, eyes on yours over the rim, as he drank, “I suppose.”

If you could record your heartbeat in the moment, it’d cross inhumane levels surely. You stared at him, fighting the urge to smile, “Unfortunately, you’re fresh out of luck. All my paintings are in the trash as of last week…including the one I was actually proud of…the one I was working on for the prize.”

He grimaced, “Can I ask you what that painting was about?”

“Um. It was just based off this scientific theory… it’s silly.” You felt shy explaining the concept — it was completely inspired by the things Hyunjin had told you in the comfort of the night skies of Daejon. He frowned, putting away his food, “Tell me”

“I remember you telling me that there weren’t any stars in the city, and I was wondering…what would happen if there weren’t any for real. At all. In the world.”

He seemed intrigued, “And what did you find?”

“Just a bunch of theories, but… it’d make the universe a pretty bleak place. Most life would cease to exist…and I was trying to paint the ruins of the universe, or what would be left when everything was gone. I was trying out this new watercolour technique, for it to be abstract enough that it was up for interpretation but also concrete enough that…people felt despair when they looked at it.”

“That’s…depressing.” He blinked. You laughed, “I guess. You inspired me, I suppose.”

“Well, it seems like that painting would have been really beautiful. I’m sorry you lost it, but…I don’t understand why you threw the others away. I thought…you liked keeping all your old paintings, and holding onto those memories…”

For some reason you found yourself being so truthful with him, digging deep into your psyche to how you felt, “Man, I don’t know…everything in my life kind of feels stupid and meaningless right now. I wasted years of my life trying to get into that apprenticeship, only to basically be kicked out one semester in… it’s funny. And now I’m sitting in my apartment in my dream city with nothing to do. I guess holding onto things just feels stupid now. There’s no point. I don’t even feel like painting anymore.”

“You… shouldn’t feel that way, Y/N.” He suddenly sounded so sad, looking at you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be sad anymore, you’d already lost everything. You shrugged, “It’s fine honestly… I’m sure I’ll eventually find some new dream to die over. I’m obsessive like that. I know there’s something out there…that’s meant for me. Probably.” The conversation seemed to have changed the mind though so you apologised, “Sorry for killing the mood.”

“You didn’t.” He responded instantly, and there was a deep emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t place. You’d seen glimpses of it before, in moments when he’d kissed you, when you’d talk to him back in Daejon, but you’d never seen it like this. It was ever-present now, and prominent, like he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. Your eyes traveled over his face, and he was gazing at you in a way that made you want to curl up into yourself. It was too much.  

You bit into the croissant, aware of the messy chocolate on your lips, and glanced in the window hoping to catch a bit of your reflection. You wanted to make sure you looked fine, especially sitting across someone who looked perfect, croissant crumbs on his lips. No wonder his face was in every shop here. You were seriously sitting across Hyunjin on a rooftop cafe in Seoul, for real. It felt like a dream. This wasn’t a date. Yet everything about it felt like one. It was hard to wrap your head around this reality. Hyunjin was draped in sunset light and casually sipped his coffee, looking at you like that — like he was simultaneously trying to figure you out, and like you also held all the answers to the universe.The sky was a beautiful hue of pink and orange, casting a bright glow over the entire top floor. He looked out the window, and you observed him, and then he swiftly reached into his little book bag, taking out a camera. He must want to capture the beauty of the sunset, but instead he surprised you, “Can I please take a picture of you?”

You stiffened up, “Right now..?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, pushing his sunglasses up so he could look through the camera viewfinder. You glanced at your reflection again, and you looked fine but your lipgloss was smudged. You felt conscious, “Do you mind if I fix my lip—”

“No” He immediately interrupted, sitting up, “I mean… Don’t fix it, please. I like it the way it is.”

You frowned, “But it’s all messy…”

“I know.” 

His gaze pierced yours, sending shivers down your spine. And hell, you were supposed to be mad at him for a million things but you don’t think anybody had ever made you feel this beautiful before and he hadn’t even said anything. It was just the way he looked at you, the depth of his gaze, the intensity in his expression and his eagerness to capture you like this.

“Oh…okay” You nodded, and his lips spread into a satisfied smile. He lift the camera up, snapping a few and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wish you were capturing the way Hyunjin looked at you instead. You could be a hundred years old and never get tired of that expression. His smile had given way to concentration, and he continued taking pictures of you. You wonder if you would ever get used to how he made you feel. 

You think all of this had to mean something. You weren’t stupid. He’d been flirting with you the entire day, and you hadn’t stopped him, or questioned it. After all, his way of talking didn’t feel like anything new. It was just how he used to be with you. Every compliment spoken so… easily and tenderly. After being away from his adoration for months, it felt like being plunged into an ice-cold bath. He had no qualms about being too direct or straightforward. He wasn’t sugarcoating anything. Had he finally given up on the charade of not wanting you in his life? Because right now, you were very much in his life. He put the camera down as if he’d heard your private thoughts, “Thank you for today. I was worried before that I had somehow ruined everything…” He paused, as if he was struggling with his thoughts, “With you. I know I dug myself into that hole…but…it feels good to be here with you. Feels like nothing changed since summer.”

Your heart constricted at those words, making you feel uneasy, but you smiled, because he seemed so happy in the moment. Except you didn’t want it to be like summer anymore though. Summer was beautiful, but it wasn’t enough. You desired and wanted more. You needed more of him with you, on you, in you, and now…after everything that had happened, after today, you somehow felt brave enough to not shy away from it.

»»————-

Your little evening with Hyunjin had already ruined you. You’d been home for just a few hours, and you’d already started reliving the events in your mind. You hadn’t even taken off the jacket he bought you, even though it would get crumpled the longer you wore it. You tried to distract yourself by cooking dinner so the scent of food could fill your apartment instead, but it still couldn’t rival the lingering fragrance of his cologne that clung to the jacket draped over your chair. 

Only an hour had passed and you gave up trying to distract yourself and sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about him, and you should probably try to protect your heart. You knew you should probably take off this jacket that cost hundreds. You’d worked so hard to try to move on but now that he was fighting to be in your life, it was like all your efforts had been for nothing. You ended up pulling up his videos, watching all of his performances from years and years ago, seeing the way he grew over time into the performer he was. All of the comments were in love with him. Millions, just like you, watching him in their bedrooms. You knew for sure, that you couldn’t let things go back to what they were: just fleeting moments of passion, and waiting on the edge of your seat for the next kiss. You knew now, that you needed something real from him.  You’d changed and pretending that your feelings hadn’t deepened in his absence would only be a useless task. 

»»————-

There was a voicemail in your inbox from Kairi. It had been a few days since you’d gone out with Hyunjin, and he’d unwittingly inspired you to step the fuck out of your apartment. You’d been walking through the market, browsing the collections of knick-knacks and shops, trying to find something Felix and Minho would really like. You wanted to mail stuff home that reminded you of them. You pressed your phone to your ear, trying to hear Kairi’s voicemail over the noise of the streets. She started out saying, “Hey, Y/N. I tried calling you, but I think you were busy so I just thought I’d leave you a message, and you can get back to me whenever. I know a lot is going on with you, and I haven’t exactly been the best friend I could have. I’m sorry, I guess I was still trying to readjust to having Chris back in my life.”

The electronics store you stepped into was huge, spanning almost five different floors, featuring tech that you hadn’t even heard of. The aisles were full of inventions and gadgets that Daejon could only even dream of. Kairi’s voicemail continued, “So what I was getting at is that there’s a…dinner party at my apartment. It’s…sort of an annual thing, I do it every year. My parents used to host them, but I've been doing them ever since they moved out. It’s fancy for no reason at all, but I love doing it because it’s a tradition? It’s not a lot of people, usually just me, the boys, and some of Chan’s friends. I’m going to make a six-course meal, and that sounds crazy. I guess it is, but I like doing it. Anyway, I guess this is just a long-winded way of me saying that…I would really like if you were there.”

You stopped in the middle of the aisle, listening to her continue, “I know that probably sounds like a lot for you, and… I’ve had these parties each year and I never really invite anybody, because it’s just…a really small gathering. The boys have been overworked too, so this would be perfect for them. I completely understand if you don’t want to come, but please consider it. I really want you there, and…you can bring Nate. I know that might put you at ease. Just think about it and let me know.”

Despite how warm her invitation made you feel, it was this Saturday. The same night you were going out with Nate. You had already long promised him you’d be his plus-one to the wedding reception. He was your friend and you couldn’t bail on him, no matter how much you craved to see Hyunjin and Kairi, and the others. Meeting him would just have to wait.

»»————-

Jeonghan’s arm fit perfectly on your waist, and he was all smiles as he introduced you to the rest of his family. Surprisingly, you weren’t nervous about tonight at all. His presence brought you ease. You’d bought a new dress, the color of cherries, a bow decorating the back, hoping it would match the vibe of everybody else at the reception. It made you feel confident enough to tackle tonight. It was a cold night, and the dress fell to your thighs, but nobody else seemed to care about the weather as they danced in strappy tops, and short skirts. Jeonghan, on the other hand, made you feel confident too. He’d proudly introduced you to everyone, and for a while there, it almost felt like you were going out together. He leaned into your ear, breath warm on your neck, “So, how are we feeling?”

You spoke through a smile, watching the guests on the dance floor, “Well. I’ve certainly never been to a wedding reception this fancy…people here really spend money on everything.”

He shook his head, “Nope. They just like to show that they can.” You glanced at him, “You know you are talking about your own family, right?” You had known Jeonghan was well-off, but truthfully, you never knew he was this wealthy. The wedding reception had been grand, and ice sculptures decorated each table setting. It was all a bit much, you could appreciate the grandeur though. He rolled his eyes, “Mum and dad have been planning this day their whole lives. I’m surprised they didn’t fly us all out to an island in the Bahamas.”

“Well, I would’ve loved to be your plus-one for that.” You laughed. He shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe for my wedding."

It was a beautiful location anyway, even if it wasn’t the Bahamas. An outdoor garden setting, hundreds of twinkling lights lit up the trees, and a dance floor where all the guests were letting loose, clearly very tipsy. You looked up at the canopy of trees, which were decorated with lush wildflowers, “Those alone must have cost you millions of won.”

“Much like your company tonight” He mumbled. You laughed, looking at him, “Whatever do you mean?”

He turned to face you, both hands grabbing you by the waist, “You know I really thought you’d ditch me tonight. Don’t you have your friend’s dinner party tonight?”

“Well…you asked me first. I made you a promise. I happen to be a good friend.”

Jeonghan smiled prettily, and he looked handsome today in the tuxedo, his hair swept back. He pulled you closer, hands on your bare back, “Thank you. Tonight would have sucked without you.”

“It’s your sister’s wedding. That’s not very nice to say” You frowned, teasing him. He chuckled, “Precisely. It’s her wedding, and I had no say on the guest list. You’re the only one I picked to be here tonight.”

You smiled, uncaring of the fact that you were in a very public space with almost all his relatives watching your intimate exchange, “I’m honored to be there for you.”

His eyes drifted over you, cheeks darkening, “You really do look pretty tonight. The other guy is definitely missing out.”

You rolled your eyes, the mention of Hyunjin stinging you a little bit, but all the wine you’d consumed tonight made it more bearable. 

“Nate, honey, can you come here a second?” An older woman interrupted, stepping over to you. One of the guests, who he’d introduced to you as his aunt, smiled at the two of you, “I’m sorry to interrupt. I need your help with something, sweetie.”

Unwillingly, Jeonghan let go of you, fingers brushing the bow on your back as he did. “I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.” He spoke. You laughed, “Don’t worry. Take your time.”

He leaned in, pressing a cheek to your kiss before following his aunt through the crowd. You smiled as he left whilst complaining about whatever task she put him up to. Being here with Jeonghan felt intimate, but it was never uncomfortable. You felt relaxed around him and his family, and he never pushed your boundaries. The reception had also been beautiful, and even though you didn’t know the wedding couple, the hopeless romantic in you craved for the kind of love they held. They’d been high school sweethearts, and the idea of that itself felt crazy to you. How must it feel to be so sure of your choice, and to have been in love for so long? You held your purse tightly, watching the couples on the dance floor. It was sweet. It was only ten minutes until Jeonghan was running back to you, “I’m sorry that took me so long. She wanted me to take pictures of her. Again!”

You laughed, “She must think you’re a real good photographer.” He rolled his eyes, “She just wants a new Facebook profile picture. I think I need more tequila.”

“That doesn’t sound like a smart idea.” You mumbled. He tugged at your hand, pulling you to the open bar, “Just one more wouldn’t hurt.”

You gave in since this was his party after all and you were only a guest, letting him lead you as he ordered you both a round of shots. He leaned against the bar, rolling his sleeves up and admittedly that made him look hot. You glanced at your phone, noticing a few messages from Kairi. You don’t know why you expected a text from Hyunjin, but in your hurry, you’d stupidly left your other phone at home. The one he bought you, where he’d text and call you. After all, keeping track of two phones was hard.

After a quick round of shots, you settled on the bar stools, watching all his drunk relatives, laughing about the stories he told you about them. The hours passed, and you were both tipsy, sitting so close at the bar. You could have easily kissed him. But you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin. It’s like Jeonghan knew that too. He was holding your face, thumb brushing against your mouth as he mumbled in a drunk-haze, “You know what I think?"

"Hmm?"

"I think you should really get to that dinner, Y/N. I’ll be fine here.”

“I can’t leave you alone. I promised you.” You spoke. He laughed, “And I’m glad you came, but…wouldn’t your friend feel bad if you don’t show up?”

“She knows I have…prior obligations. They wouldn’t miss me.” You frowned, and suddenly the anxiety was back in your stomach. You were a little tired, and the thought of showing up at the dinner, where Hyunjin would definitely be, paralyzed you. Yet you also told Kairi you’d try your best to make it, even if only for a little while to grab dessert and you had to be a good friend to her too. Jeonghan nodded, “Just show up for her. I’m sure she would want you there. Plus, you look…really hot tonight. It’d be a waste to only wear that dress in front of my traditional old relatives. I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”

He was right. The formalities of the reception was over and now it was probably just going to be a never-ending party until dawn. It would be nice to see Kairi and the others tonight, even if you weren’t mentally prepared for it at all. You hadn’t thought you’d get a chance to get there at all. You cracked a smile at his consideration, looking up at him, “I guess I should get going now, if I want to make it in time for dessert. Only because you’re forcing me.”

Jeonghan nodded, helping you jump off the bar stool, and you looked back at the reception party. Everybody was having so much fun, you wish you could stay the entire night. You let Jeonghan lead you to the street, where the taxi waited for you. He thanked you for showing up and kissed you a short goodbye. When you sat in the taxi, you sent Kairi a simple text that you were on your way, and you hope that you were still welcome there.

»»————-

Of course things weren't going to go your way. The cab driver dropped you off on the wrong street, and after a long struggle in your kitten-heels you finally made it to Kairi’s doorstep. The cold had definitely sobered you up a bit, bringing back your nervousness about being here, but Kairi had clearly felt comfortable enough to have you over so you’d suck it up. Her place was inside a lavish apartment complex, and you rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently. Your stomach was already twisting at the prospect of meeting everyone, and at seeing him again. It was Chan who answered the door, and for a second it felt like you had no idea what to say, until he grinned, “You’re here!” He stepped forward and pulled you into a half-hug, on his doorstep. You were taken aback, definitely not expecting the physical contact. After all this was only your second time meeting him, but you bought your arm up, hugging him back briefly. His hair was curly, and he smelled nice. It was all you registered before he stepped back, inviting you in. 

“I’m sorry I’m so late. I was at a wedding…” You began to explain, and he shook his head, curls bouncing, “Don’t apologise! Kairi told me you had plans already so no hard feelings. We’re just glad you could make it in time…let me take your coat.”

He grabbed it from you, hooking it on a coat hanger as you looked around. It was a decently sized place, far bigger than your apartment. A set of stairs led to another floor. Dinner must have been really good, because you could still smell the aromas. Chan said, “And…I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but sorry for my behaviour the last time we met, at Kairi’s birthday. I was really drunk and emotional, I’m not usually like that.”

“No, you were just really fucking desperate.” Kairi’s voice interrupted, and she ran over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Relief surged through you at seeing her here. She looked beautiful, in a midnight blue corset, and high-waisted black pants to match and you smiled at her, “You look so good. Thank you for having me over. ”

“Me?” She laughed, raising an eyebrow, “Look at you. You’re all dolled up, like a fairy.”

“I’m really sorry I missed dinner. It smells amazing.” You frowned. She sighed dramatically, “I missed you to death, but I’ll live. This just means we need to do another one of these soon. Come on, everybody’s in there!”

Before you could mentally prepare, she’d pulled you into another room, Chan following behind. You tried to register everything. It was a cosy living room, ambient purple and orange lighting cast over everything. A popular pop song was playing at a low volume in the background. There was a lot of seating, a couch, and a bunch of unique, colourful chairs surrounded the coffee table. There seemed to be a lot of people in the room, and maybe that last round of shots had been a bad idea as you tried to register all of their faces. They were all busy in conversation, wine glasses in hand, not having noticed you yet, and you hoped it stayed like so. That way, you could just slip into conversation with no embarrassing announcement of your arrival. This was the first time you’d be meeting the band. There were two other people here that you didn’t recognise. They were both dressed casually, in cargo pants and a white beanie, and you felt a bit overdressed. “They’re some of Chan’s friends, and they work with the band. That’s Hanbin and that’s Sunmi.” Kairi leaned in to whisper. Somebody in the corner was playing the piano, a beautiful low melody, and Kairi tapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Hey. She’s here.”

Immediately, he stopped playing. Jisung — the one on the piano — burst into a smile and stood up, “Shit. You’re actually like, here!” He pulled you into a hug, just like Chan had, and they must all be touchy or very drunk. As he stepped back, he continued smiling, extending a hand, “Han Jisung, by the way.”

“We’ve met before…kind of.” You said, meeting his hand with yours. Realisation sank into his face, and all his expressions were exaggerated as he nodded, “Right, right, we have. In the company building when I dropped all your coins at the vending machine…I was an idiot.”

“When are you not?” Somebody joined you, slinging a strong arm around Jisung. You recognized him from the pictures, “Hey, Y/N…You must know who I am, right?” Changbin had a coy smile on his face, dressed in a navy button-up that only he could probably make look this good. You smiled at him, “Yeah, I do. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

He smiled, gesturing to someone, “I don’t think you’ve met Hanbin.” At those words, the boy you didn’t know stood from the couch, and you regretted pulling them out of their comfortable conversation circle, “Oh, you don’t need to get up for me.”

In the midst of the chaos and onslaught of introductions, your eyes finally found Hyunjin. He was standing by the couch, a drink in his hand, at the far end of the room, laughing about something with a girl — who was probably Sunmi. Your stomach jumped, goosebumps rippling up your entire body. He looked absolutely fucking insane. In a good way, in the best way. His hair was tied up into a low ponytail, but strands of hair fell into his face, framing it perfectly. The purple light cast rhythmic shadows on his face. He stood in a black sweater, and tight denim-wash jeans, one hand tucked into his pocket. He was only standing in a living room, but he could just as easily have been posing for a Vogue photoshoot, by his perfect stance. He hadn’t realized you were here yet, or maybe he was pretending to not notice. You didn’t have time to think about it before Hanbin stepped ahead, blocking him from your view, “Kairi would not stop talking about you the past three hours.”

You flushed, “Oh… I wish I could have been here for the entire dinner. Knowing her, it must have been great.”

“We did save you some.” Chan added. You murmured a thank you, feeling dizzy from all the attention. They were almost all talking over each other, and you were already so overwhelmed. Jisung gestured to you, “Grab a drink and sit with me.”

“No, let her eat first. Baby, you mind heating up the leftovers for Y/N?” Kairi asked Chan. You shook your head, “Please, there’s no need for that. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

Kairi rolled her eyes, “Girl, you’re my guest of honor.” Chan smiled at you, “You can follow me.” 

So, you went with him into the hallway, passing by a doorway. A door was left ajar, a glimpse into a room. It was only half a second, but you saw a wooden bed frame and a sliver of a wall of art, “Is that Kairi’s room?”

Chan shook his head, “It used to be, but she made it into a guest bedroom. Hyunjin mostly sleeps in there now. Come on. The kitchen’s through here.” He said, his strong voice guiding you through the corridor. “Right, sorry,” you said, turning away from the door and following him to the kitchen. The kitchen was big too, and set up beautifully, with marble countertops and a small kitchen island. Chan reached into the sink, rummaging through some dirty dishes, “Sorry. We’ve been meaning to run the dishwasher. Kairi kind of goes crazy at these dinners.”

You leaned against the counter, “That’s fine. No judgement.”

“Thank you.” He laughed, looking over his shoulder at you, “We’re usually much more organized than this, I promise.”

“You have a lot on your plate already, Chan. I completely understand.” You told him, with a smile. He laughed, “You’re sweet. I’m just heating up some of the chicken and fondant potatoes for you. That good?”

“Could I actually have some water? If… that’s okay” You asked. He smiled, “Of course it is. Make yourself at home. There are some clean mugs in the cabinet. You can just grab one and help yourself.” You walked around the island, opening up the cabinet. Mugs of different shapes and sizes were arranged precisely in there, and Kairi’s unique taste was definitely recognisable. A cerulean blue mug made of porcelain rested in the very back. You rather get a mug they sparsely used, so you reached for it, pulling it out. Pushing it under the tap, you began filling it with water. Chan glanced at you and your selection, “Oh. That’s Hyunjin’s favorite.”

You stilled, “Oh. Sorry. Should I pick another?”

Of course it fucking was. Why did you have to pick that one amongst all of them? “No, no, go ahead. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Chan smiled, pushing a button to start the dishwasher and then crossed his arms towards you, “I’ll just go see if the guys need any more drinks.”

“Sure.” You responded, taking a slow sip from the mug, and the knowledge that it was his favourite mug made you feel jittery. Doing all those shots before coming to see Hyunjin had been a terrible idea. You grabbed your water and held it tight, returning to the living room, where you could hear loud laughter from. They were all back in conversation, and Changbin was imitating a silly dance, making Hyunjin laugh. You stood under the archway, watching them. A few seconds went by, and Hyunjin was still laughing, crinkled eyes, and he reached up to tuck his hair back absentmindedly, and that’s when he saw you.

You don’t know what you were expecting. He stilled, eyes widening, trailing off in the middle of his conversation. He really hadn’t known you had arrived. His lips formed a small smile, and that was so fucking attractive, and from across the room, he mouthed, “Hey.”

The tension within you dissipated. You had to fight your smile, feeling lovestruck and lovesick by a smile word. All he said was hi. Then why did your knees already feel weak? Why did it feel like the first time you had seen him, unable to comprehend anything except his absolutely, insane beauty? You shot him a soft smile, mouthing back, “Hey.”

He sidestepped his friends, walking over to you, and you felt shy under his intense gaze. His stance was casual and so confident, and in another universe you could imagine meeting him at a college party like this. “You came.” He spoke, and you tilt your head up to look him in the eyes, “Yeah. I did.”

His eyes fell to the mug in your hands, and you realised there was a lipstick stain on it. Your lipstick stain. On his stuff. You apologised, “Um, sorry, Chan said I can—”

“Don’t worry” He interrupted too quick, eyes flickering over your form, “How are you?”

You’d already decided this was your time to be brave, and you weren’t going to hold back tonight, “I’m okay. I’ve been wanting to reach out to you and I—” 

“So, what took you so long tonight?” Hanbin asked, stepping up to the two of you. You glanced at him, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you but he was being polite so you spoke, “Oh, I was at a wedding reception. I promised my friend I’d be his date.”

“Ahh. That’s why you’re dressed up so pretty. Was it a good reception?” He asked. You smiled at his compliment, “Yeah. I…had a great time actually. It was definitely a fancy event.”

“Can I see the pictures? Please tell me you took some!” Kairi asked, overhearing the conversation. She was perched on Chan’s lap, and you shot Hyunjin an apologetic smile, you’d just have to speak to him later and you handed your phone over to her, “Yeah, actually I did. Jeonghan is kind of obsessed with taking pictures, so we took a lot.”

She scrolled through your gallery, and Jisung leaned in over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the pictures too, “Wow. That shit looks…expensive.Your friend’s loaded.”

You laughed, “I guess his family is pretty rich.”

“He took a lot of pictures of just you.” Kairi teased, scrolling through, “I mean, I don’t blame him. You look like you stepped out of a fairytale.”

“Um. You should have seen the bride.” You laughed. Jisung was still nosily peeking into your phone, “So, who’s Jeonghan?”

“He’s a…friend.” You explained, while Chan handed you a drink. It seemed like one of his famous cocktails Hyunjin had told you about, but nothing could beat the drink he had made you on his last night in Daejon. Despite how much you wanted to try this, you really didn’t want to be drunk tonight, “Um…I shouldn’t. I already drank more than I should have tonight.”

“I mean, objectively, the best thing about weddings is the open bars,” Changbin pointed out. You laughed, “You’re right and Jeonghan used that same excuse to force me through five rounds of tequila.”

Jisung’s eyes widened, “You’re fucking kidding me. You must have a high tolerance if you’re so sober after five shots.”

“I think the walk in the cold definitely contributed to that” You joked, and then explained due to his perplexed look, “I must have put in the wrong location because the cab driver dropped me off a few blocks away.”

“In those shoes? I would have given up.” Changbin asked.

“So you took a cab alone?” Hyunjin suddenly asked. Your gaze darted to him, surprised he’d spoken up and you hadn’t realised how much you’d insanely missed his delicate voice. You nodded, “Um, yeah.”

“Your… friend sent you here in a cab when you were drunk and by yourself?”

“I mean…yeah. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Nate couldn’t have dropped you here?” He asked. You frowned, “It’s not like I was gonna ask him to bring me here, it was his family’s party.” His eyebrows shot up, “Isn’t he rich? I’m sure he could have figured out a way.”

“These pictures are beautiful,” Kairi spoke, cutting the tension in the room as she handed you your phone back. You were staring at Hyunjin, and at his misplaced concern. Changbin had also clearly picked up on it, because he nudged him in the stomach, “If you were so worried about her, you should have offered to pick her up.”

Hyunjin took a sip of his drink, nonchalant face, “I did.”

Your eyes widened. When did he offer that? You showed your honest surprise, “I… didn’t know.”

The room was quiet, and Jisung chuckled, “Must be the first girl in history to ignore your texts, Jinnie”. 

The others laughed, but Hyunjin genuinely looked hurt that you hadn’t taken him up on his offer. In all truth, you never saw that text. If you did, you would have said yes. You’d forgotten the phone he gave you at your bedside table, and you couldn’t be blamed for not being able to keep track of it when so much was going on. You shook your head, “No, I just…had a lot on my mind, I was with Jeonghan the whole day, I must have missed it.”

Your response satisfied the room, but seemed to be the wrong answer for Hyunjin by the slight hurt in his eyes that only you noticed. It sucked because the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like that tonight.

“So how do you know Kairi?” Hanbin asked, smiling attentively at you. You couldn’t focus, hoping Hyunjin wasn’t genuinely hurt and spoke, “Oh…it was just a coincidence. I met her in a bar.” Kairi nodded along, “And she offered to give me her jacket! Some fucking loser had thrown his drink on me.”

Hanbin laughed, adjusting his beanie, “I see. I see...So I take it you’re not a fan then?”

“Sorry?”

“You ain’t heard these guys’ music before?” He gestured towards the boys. You nodded, realising he was asking if you liked the band “Oh, some of it, yeah.”

“Oh, you’re hurting my feelings, Y/N.” Changbin pouted. Sunmi rolled her eyes, “No, it’s a breath of fresh air to see you not fawning over them. I like you already.”

Oh, if only she knew how much you did obsess over one of them. She would be concerned for you, if she could read your mind around him. You forced a smile, “I just honestly… hadn’t heard of it until a few months ago.”

Her eyes widened, “You’re kidding. How do you live in Seoul and not hear of them?” Then Chan leaned forward, adding to explain to you, “Sunmi’s one of our producers, by the way. She’s been with us since our second album. One of the best.”

“And Y/N isn’t a local.” Kairi added, “She moved here a while ago.”

“Yeah the music scene back home is….not the biggest.” You said briefly, not wanting to talk about yourself too much. You had been hoping to blend in, not be the centre of attention tonight and Sunmi asked, “And where is… back home?”

“Okay! A pause on the questions. I need Y/N for something.” Kairi interrupted, coming over to you and leaned in to whisper, “Wanna come with me to the kitchen? I’m getting another drink.”

You nodded, relieved she could pick up on your body language. As soon as you were out of earshot of the living room, she mumbled, “I’m sorry. They ask you a lot of questions. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being interrogated.”

“No, I don’t mind, I’m just kind of tired and feel like I may not be at my best social energy right now.” You apologised, leaning against the counter, as she made a cocktail for herself. Her eyes wandered over you, “You really do look beautiful. I love the glitter eyeshadow.”

“You like my bow?” You smiled, twirling to show her. She laughed, “It’s the cherry on top. So, how was it tonight with Nate? As far as I remember…. he has the biggest crush on you, or he’s just a very sincere… fuckboy.”

“Regardless…I had a really good time with him.” You said, running your finger along the marble slab. You could hear Jisung and Changbin’s loud laughter from the other room. They seemed like a lot of fun, and you definitely wanted to relax for the rest of the night. You wanted them to like you too, so perhaps you could do with a little liquid courage. As if she read your mind, Kairi finished mixing her drink then tilt her head, “You suuure you don’t want one?”

But every other time you’d gotten tipsy around Hyunjin, you’d ended up doing something stupid. “No, I…think I’ll stick with water.” You decided. She let out a sigh, taking a sip of her vodka, “Did you two kiss tonight?”

“Me and Jeonghan…?” You were surprised at the question. She hummed, “Yeah, sorry if that was weird to ask. I just know…things between you and Hyunjin…aren’t the best.”

“Did you hear us? The other night in the car?” You ended up asking, even though it was embarrassing for you to bring up that argument. She looked up at you, “Bits and pieces.”

“And what’d you think?” You bit your lip. She sighed, “I think you both…have a lot of pent-up feelings. It’s good you got them out.”

“It felt…immature to fight him. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I’m usually not…that vocal”

“There was nothing wrong with what you said. I mean, trust me, I’ve had a hell of a lot more aggressive fights with Chris. We end up saying a lot of stuff we don’t mean.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I meant everything. I don’t really regret any of it.”

“Then he needed to hear that.” Kairi agreed, “I didn’t know he cut you off like that completely. I would have been devastated if I was you. I’d say you handled it pretty well… Hyunjin doesn’t really talk to me about you, and I wish I could be more helpful. How do you feel now?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know if I mentioned it to you, but he took me shopping last week… I don’t know how I feel about it. It felt a lot like a date, but it wasn’t. I just…wish I had some surety from him, you know?”

Her hand landed on yours comfortingly, “Well, you don’t have to decide right now. I’m just glad you chose to come tonight.”

“Are you girls gonna spend the entire night gossiping without us?” Jisung interrupted. You turned and saw him in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. You hope he didn’t overhear anything. Kairi laughed, “What do you need?”

Jisung grinned widely, “Well, actually. I was gonna go get ice from the fridge upstairs, if any of you want to accompany me for that? Make you feel helpful.”

“I could come with.” You offered, smiling at him. He did a small fist pump, “Exactly the outcome I was hoping for. No offence, Kair”

As you followed him up the stairs to the storage room, he reminded you, “Be careful, your heels. I’ve fallen face-first on these steps more times than I’d admit.” 

Your heart warmed at his concern, and you grabbed the bannister to keep your balance.“Cool place though, right?” He asked, looking back at you as you observed the framed pictures on the wall and he continued, “Me and the boys used to spend a lot of our weekends here.”

“Oh? That must have been nice….” You walked into a storage room, of sorts. A mini-fridge stood in the corner and Jisung pulled it open, grabbing the ice box as he looked back at you, “Yeah. Kairi got so sick of having us over, she ended up turning her study into another guest room.”

“Of course she did.” You laughed, “Do you still come here often?”

He shook his head, reaching for more ice, “After Chan and Kairi broke up, we obviously stopped for a while, but… I’m hoping to get back to normal. Couldn’t be more thrilled that they’re back together.”

“Me too. They seem pretty…perfect for each other.” You smiled. He stood up straight, his ribbed top riding up, and you looked away. All of them were so attractive it was hard to comprehend such a pretty friend group existed. He grinned at you, “I should thank you for that.”

“Me? I… didn’t do anything” 

“Do you mind holding this?” He handed you the ice box momentarily, “Well, Hyunjin told me that you helped them meet up at her birthday.”

“Oh. Right.” You nodded, gripping it within your hands and it was freezing, condensation making it slip in your palms, “I…guess I did.” You had the urge to ask him what else he talked about with him, but this was your first time meeting Jisung, and that would be weird to ask. “Sure sounded like a fun party. Hyunjin told me you organise those a lot.” Jisung continued, taking back the ice box from you, “And tell me about it downstairs. I would love to talk to you in this storage room all night, but… let’s get this ice to them before all of it melts, and before Changbin threatens to kill me again.”

Back in the living room, the music seemed louder when you returned, and Hyunjin was engaged in an intense conversation with Sunmi and Changbin. Kairi was showing Chan something on her phone. You settled on a seat, and Jisung naturally pulled up a chair to be closer to you. He clinked his drink with yours, before he took a big mouthful, cheeks full of the liquid before swallowing. “So…what was I saying?” Jisung asked, dropping his voice so only you could hear him. You took a sip of your water, already feeling more at ease around him, “About how I’m a really great party planner.”

He smiled, “Right. That. Have you ever thought of doing that professionally?”

You laughed, “Honestly, I don’t know what Hyunjin was talking about. I’ve only organised two parties in my life…my best friend's and Kairi’s…they both ended in a disaster.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, I’m sure.” Jisung rolled his eyes, “So… he also happened to mention you’re real good at art. Can I see some of it or are you going to be shrouded in mystery forever?”

You giggled, reaching for your phone, “There is absolutely nothing mysterious about that, Jisung. You can see it, but… it’s not the best.”

He peeked into your phone gallery as you showed him a few paintings you’d made over the past few years, and Jisung probably wasn’t interested in art, but he still smiled, reacting overtly to each of them and even pointing out which ones he liked. He reminded you a lot of Yeonjun in that sense, where he took interest in something just because of his friends. He was playful, and it was nice to see the physical manifestation of all the stories Hyunjin told you about. You glanced up and Hyunjin was looking at you, probably curious about why you and Jisung were peeking into your phone, so you explained, “I was just showing him some of my paintings.”

He nodded, making brief eye contact with Jisung before he said, “Ah. I’m uh…going to check on the dessert.”

“Do you want my help?” You asked, already moving to stand up. He shook his head, “No, don’t worry. I wouldn’t wanna pull you away from the conversation.”

Disappointed, you settled back down, and Jisung spoke, “Can I ask you something, honestly though?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you leave your fancy wedding date to come here?”

“I…promised Kairi I’d try to make it here.” You replied, staring at the liquid in your glass. Jisung hummed, “Right, right. I see.” You were glad he didn’t push you further, seeing as how he was Hyunjin’s best friend and any answer you could come up with would be embarrassing. Before you could say anything further anyway, Changbin started talking about an incident on their trip to Japan, and you let yourself be swept up into the conversation. He was a great storyteller, and so charismatic. It wasn’t too hard to imagine why they were so famous. You’d only been here an hour or so, and you could listen to them talk for hours. Almost mesmerised by their dynamic, you watched the boys talk, losing track of time… and of how long Hyunjin had been gone. Your mug lay empty on the coffee table, and you stood up to refill it, when Changbin asked, “Where the fuck is Jinnie?”

“Probably hyper-fixating in the kitchen. Y/N, do you think you could call him out?” Jisung replied, looking at you expectantly. You blanked, feeling taken aback by the question. Kairi noticed, moving to stand, “Um, I can get—”

“No, that’s fine.” You spoke. You were braver than that and it would finally give you the chance to talk to him by yourself, “I can just get him.”

“Okay…” She settled back down, shooting you a comforting smile. You walked over to the kitchen, and your heels were so loud on the tiled floor that he’d definitely hear you coming. The door was closed, and you knocked lightly, not wanting to interrupt him. 

“Come in.” His voice carried to you. You pushed the door open, eyes falling on him. He was leaning against the counter, drinking from his glass, staring into nothing. Well. He was staring at the oven, but why was he alone in here? He looked over his shoulder, eyes flickering over your form, “Oh. Hey.”

You stood awkwardly by the door, hand holding it open, “Hi. Um. The guys were…asking for you. I thought you were getting dessert.” He looked around, at the mess of things, “I was. It’s still not ready, so I decided to wait for it. You can let them know I’ll be there soon.”

“Oh.” You spoke, wondering if you should leave… but you were curious, “You’ve been in here by yourself for really long.”

“Yeah. Just wanted to be by myself for a bit.”

A tinge of hurt hit you, “Oh…do you want me to leave?”

He let out a sigh, putting his glass on the counter, and turned to face you, “No…you don’t have to do that.”

“But…you just said you want to be by yourself.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you, amused look on his face, “That…obviously doesn’t include you.”

You’d been standing on the threshold the entire time, but at those words, you stepped in, letting the door shut behind you. You looked around the little kitchen, “Sorry I used your mug.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “That’s fine. I’m surprised you ended up picking mine. Guess we like the same things.”

“You could say that.” You breathed, hands behind your back. His gaze felt so strong on you, and it was so quiet in here compared to the chaos of the outside. He smiled lightly, when you asked him, “So…what dessert are we having tonight?” 

He glanced at the oven, “A…strawberry tart. You like those?”

You thought about it, “I don’t know. I haven’t had one since I was a kid anyway.”

Hyunjin put his hands on the counter, tilting his head, “Really? Felix never baked one for you?”

“He was kind of obsessed with chocolate…I had too much of that.” You recalled. Hyunjin smiled, nodding, “Right. I remember trying out the treats he made us…when we went to the Creek for the swim.”

“Wow…that feels like it was ages ago.” You remembered. Hyunjin nodded, “It was. I guess. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Do you miss it?” You ended up asking. His expression softened, “I…do. Your friends were fun to hang out with.”

“Aren’t they your friends too?” You laughed. He shrugged cutely, “Right, but I don’t think I would’ve talked to anybody in town if it wasn’t for you.”

You smiled, “I think you’re giving me too much credit. That was all Hana. She’s the one who…introduced you to us.”

“You miss them? Your friends?” He asked. You sighed, leaning against the door, crossing your arms to keep warm as you thought about it, “Yeah. Recently I’ve missing home so much and my friends, well at this point they’re…like my family. It sucks being separated from them. Kind of like…how you felt when you were away from the boys.”

“I’m sorry if I forced you to stay.” He suddenly said, “I realize that…it may have been my emotionally clouded judgment, and I feel like… I guilted you into staying here. Maybe it was selfish of me.”

Your eyes narrowed, a realisation sinking in as to why he seemed a little distant, “Is that why you’re in here by yourself?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Just needed to take my mind off things. I guess honestly, I just…miss spending time with you, like we did back home. The other night, I was learning a new routine and realised you’ve never even seen me dance. Not in person, at least. I mean, isn’t that crazy? We’ve known each other so long, but there’s so much of me you don’t know. The thought freaked me out, and then…”

“And then?”

“Then I started thinking that it goes the other way too. There’s so much of you I still haven’t seen.” He said, “Like the other day, when you wore the jacket, I realised…I only know you in the summer. I haven’t seen you in winter."

Your heart squeezed at his confusing but thoughtful words, and you smiled, “I’m the same in all the seasons, Hyunjin.”

He was looking at you from across the room, “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Did you know I was coming here tonight?” 

He shook his head, “I didn’t think you would. Kairi told me you had a wedding date with Jeonghan…”

“Yeah, I did. He understands though…this was just as important.”

He nodded, “Right.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I would love to see you dance…if you feel comfortable.”

He looked at you at that, smiling slightly, before a short embarrassed laugh, “Yeah."

The oven let out a ding, interrupting whatever you might say. He smiled wide, and his demeanour already seemed lighter, “It’s done. Do you wanna do the honor?”

“Oh. Sure”. You stepped over to him,, and he pulled open the oven door. He was standing so close now that you could see the perspiration slide down his jaw, droplets cascading down neck, and he must have been nervous this whole time. You bent down to see into the oven, and it smelled amazing, but before you could grab the handle of the hot pan, you felt a firm grip on your arm stopping you, “Wait—”. 

Startled, you looked up at Hyunjin, his hand circling your wrist tightly, “What?”

His eyes searched yours, “It’s burning hot. Y/N. You’ll hurt yourself.”

You then realised you weren’t wearing any mitts, and you were just gonna grab the baking dish like so, with bare hands. How stupid. Your hair fell into your eyes, making it harder to see Hyunjin, but you mumbled a pathetic, “Oh.”

He reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear, then let out a chuckle, voice soft, “What were you thinking?” 

You swallowed, staring at his lips, “I wasn’t.”

He smiled, standing up tall, “I got this.”

Your face felt hot, and you were only a little mortified. Carefully, Hyunjin placed the baking dish on the kitchen counter, taking off his oven mitts; they were red and matched your dress. He nudged you, elbow against yours, “You wanna be the first one to try it? I’ll let you have an extra piece and if you end up liking it and want the whole thing, I can just tell the others I burnt the dish.”

You laughed, looking up at him, “You’d lie to your friends so I could have more pastry?”

A knock on the door pulled your attention to Chan. He peeked in, “Hey guys. Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt…but Hanbin’s leaving, so he wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh. Of course” Hyunjin said, and you followed them out into the foyer, where Hanbin and Sumni stood in their winter coats already and everybody was gathered around them. Kairi was hugging them, when Hyunjin spoke, “You’re not staying for dessert? Come onn.”

Hanbin smiled apologetically, “Dude, it’s gonna snow again, and the traffic’s terrible. If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it home until morning.”

“Oh, you should still take some of the strawberry tart some with you” Kairi said, running back into the kitchen, “I have a few takeout containers.”

You looked at Sunmi, “You said traffic’s going to be bad?” She nodded, “Yeah, Seoul basically shuts down in bad weather. We don’t wanna risk it. It’ll only get worse, but …it was really nice meeting you tonight, Y/N.”

You glanced at Chan, realising they were probably right, and your stomach sank, “Oh. I guess I should probably get going too then.”

“What?” Jisung complained loudly, “You just got here.”

“We can drop you off.” Hanbin suggested, “Our car’s parked out front.”

Jisung let out a dramatic sigh. You didn’t really want to leave, you were just getting to warm up to Hyunjin, but you didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t leave, you could be stuck until tomorrow. You reached for your coat, “That sounds good Hanbin, as long as it’s not an inconvenience.”

Kairi walked back in with takeout boxes in hand, and her eyes narrowed, “What’s going on? Y/N’s leaving too?”

You slipped your coat on, tossing your hair out of it, “They said they could take me home. The snow’s piling up....” Kairi shook her head, “Nope. You’re not leaving.”

You laughed, stepping closer to grab her hand, “What do you mean? I don't want to leave but I I don’t exactly have a choice.”

She squeezed your hands, “Babe, you just got a few hours ago. Stay a while, and if things are still bad when you want to leave, you can just sleep in my guest bedroom. I mean, that’s what it’s for.”

You considered it, and then Changbin spoke, “See? You have no excuses. So if you still decide to leave now, that just means you hate us.”

You laughed, “Okay, I guess I can stay a little.”

Kairi squealed, pulling you into a hug. Your heart warmed at the idea that they all wanted to spend more time with you. It was only the first time you were meeting most of them, but they still reacted like that. It made you feel wanted. You’d only been craving that all this while. From the corner of your eye, you caught Hyunijn’s reaction. He wasn’t dramatically expressive, unlike Changbin or Jisung, who wore their emotions on their sleeve. Hyunjin was watching this exchange quietly from the corner, arms across his chest, leaning against a pillar. He seemed calm, like he was okay with whatever you ended up doing, but he was gazing at you so intently it made you want to stay just so he’d look at you like that the rest of the night.

»»————-

In a matter of an hour, the strawberry tart had been cut up and shared, and remnants lay on porcelain plates decorating the coffee table. Kairi had beautiful crockery. She had a beautiful home. She had beautiful friends. Changbin was funnier than you expected — Hyunjin had never talked about his humour before, and you were glad you were discovering it on your own now. He was also touchy, he’d find excuses to touch Hyunjin and Jisung every now and then, a giggle on his face when they unwittingly pushed him away. You’d only been here a few hours, but watching their dynamic unfolding was wonderful.

After Hanbin and Seonmi had left, you’d moved over to the couch, which was much more comfortable than your earlier seat, and Hyunjin had surprisingly stayed where he was…which happened to be right next to you. He was manspreading, leaning against the couch arm, a drink in his hand. The music playing was much softer now, so it was easier to have the conversations and listen to them, and Jisung was playing the piano again quietly. Kairi animatedly explained something to him, and Chan was just listening with a smile on his face, while he stroked her back. They were so cute it made you want to die. You snuck glances at Hyunjin to your right, every now and then. He was still calm as ever, but his cheeks were red from all the drinking. His hair was messier too, and it made him look hotter than you could ever imagine. It was hard to look him in the eye, when he looked this good, so you focused on everything else. You were so engaged in another one of Changbin’s crazy stories, you didn’t realize when you reached to pull your dress down, you accidentally put your hand on Hyunjin’s thigh.

You don’t know what you were thinking. You’d severely miscalculated the distance between you. It was only for a second, but he noticed. Of course he fucking noticed. Instantly, he tensed up, pausing in the middle of his sip. You wondered if he’d push it away. If he’d tell you to stop, or ask what you were doing. Instead, he lift the drink to his mouth like nothing happened. You pulled your hand back before anybody else noticed. It was only an accident after all.

Changbin’s attention was all on you; he’d been telling you about his favorite records and artists in the music industry. He was enjoying the strawberry tart Hyunjin baked, leaving crumbs behind, and paused to ask you, “So now that you’ve been here a while, what’s your favorite place in the city?” You tilt your head, mulling over it, “I’ll have to think about that…I haven’t seen all of it yet.”

“Nobody’s seen all of it, Y/N” Jisung rolled his eyes, punctuating it with a laugh, “Even though some of us have been here our whole lives.”

That was hard for you to comprehend. You knew every inch of Daejon, every rock, every tree, each house. You’d eaten at every restaurant, shopped in every boutique, and knew everybody. “This might be a stupid question but do you never feel like exploring more of it?” You asked. Changbin shrugged, “It’s not really possible. Nobody has the time or the energy, or the money.”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin spoke, surprising you. You glanced at him, and he paused from drinking to address you, “I feel that…people here get stuck in their little convenient routines and never feel a want for more.”

Your eyes searched his, “What do you mean?”

He swirled the drink in his glass, “So many people here…get so comfortable. Not that there’s anything wrong with comfort, but when you live in a city like this…I don’t understand. They only go to the same coffee shop for fifty years, the same restaurants, not really trying anything new.”

“I hate that.” You spoke up, before he’d even finished speaking. You hated the idea of that, of an endless routine, and an unchanging life. It was one of the few things in life you were sure about. Hyunjin was looking at you and only you, as he spoke, “I know. So many people here…build their life around a few places, and those places become their life. Even though the city is so much bigger than that, and I guess I hate…the idea of settling for whatever there is.” 

Changbin cleared his throat, “Well. I think I’m too drunk for this conversation.”

A tissue box lay on the end table next to Hyunjin. Turning back to the room, you asked, “Is it okay if I have the last piece of the pastry?” It was a unanimous yes, and when you bit into the tart, little crumbs fell to your thighs, and between your thighs. It was a mess so naturally, you said, “Sorry, could you pass me that, Hyunjin?”

He looked around, noticing the only thing next to him, the box of tissues. He nodded, “Yeah, of course” and reached in for a few, passing them to you. You took them from him, fingers brushing against his. Your stomach flipped at the sensation. His hand was so warm, and your fingers lingered on his a while longer — as long as you could without making it weird. Then, you simply wiped away the crumbs from your thighs, drawing Hyunjin’s brief attention to them. After all, you’d only been this messy with the pastry so you’d have an excuse to talk to him.

You wonder if he picked up on that. You hadn't been too subtle about it, being as messy as you could possibly be just so he'd have an excuse to give you the tissues. Hyunjin was so close to you, after being so out of reach. Being in the same room as him wasn’t enough, sitting on the same couch as him wasn’t enough. You wanted to touch him, be on him, and for him to be on you. You did feel kind of insane, but this was so much more than how crushes or boyfriends had ever made you feel. The desire you felt...you never even knew that was humanely possible. You were so lost in him, and his warm body sitting next to yours that you wouldn’t notice even if the room around you disappeared completely. Still, you owed something to the rest so you asked, “Um, what about you Changbin? What’s your favorite place?” 

He lift his glass up, a wide grin on his face, “That’s easy. The recording studio.” Chan laughed, picking up on your conversation, “I second that answer.”

They really loved what they did. You wonder why your favorite place wasn’t automatically the painting studio. Shouldn’t it be that, seeing as to how that was your biggest purpose in life? But ever since the past few weeks, you dreaded returning to a studio. The thought made your stomach sink. If you weren’t an artist, what even were you? It sent you into a spiral, and you were dissociating from this party, just thinking about it.

“You okay?”

You could drown in the softness of that voice. A gentle touch to your shoulder, and you looked at Hyunjin as he lowered his voice, asking again, “You feel fine?”

You nodded, gripping your dress tightly, “Yeah, I was just…thinking about something.”

“Good, or bad?” He whispered, not wanting to interrupt all of the conversations in the room. You stared at him, “I don’t know. Bad.”

“Do you want to step out of here?” He asked. He was so attentive. Maybe he could be the solution for your predicament too. You shook your head, “I want to ask you something but it’s kind of…random.”

“I’m listening.” He spoke, an amused smile on his features. You swallowed, fiddling with the glass in your lap, and it was easy to filter out every noise in the room when he was next to you, “We always talked about painting together. Would you still be up for something like that? Or…are you too busy with your schedule?”

“If that’s something you want to do, we can do it together.” He replied, “I have a personal studio…you could come to my place, or…I could come to yours.”

“Maybe I should come to yours. I…wanna see your room too.” You spoke. He cracked a smile, “We can make that happen.”

In the midst of all this, you shifted, absentmindedly inching closer to Hyunjin on the couch, until your leg was completely touching his. You felt like a school girl finding excuses to touch her crush, and even just this little touch sent fireworks in your belly. He didn’t move away this time either, and that was a triumph in your book. He just sent you a comforting smile. Of course, the bubble popped, and Jisung said something, pulling your attention back to him, “You should really visit our recording studio, Y/N. I think you’d appreciate the…precision and organisation of everything.” 

“How do you know that’s something I like?” You laughed. He shrugged, “I’ve only known you for a few hours, but you definitely give off that vibe.”

“Well, that’s pretty accurate, I’d say,” Kairi laughed, then looked to you, “I think you’d appreciate the way Chan organized my record collection.”

“You have a record collection?” You were surprised. She rolled her eyes, “Of course I do. I’m pretentious like that.”

“I can show you. They’re right by the TV.” Chan proposed, standing up. You didn’t want to leave Hyunjin’s side and warmth, but you didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity, so you stood up, “I’d love that.” It was in the same room, so at least you wouldn’t be too far from Hyunjin, and Chan began showing you the TV cabinet and how he’d arranged all the records in order of release and by band. He was giggling, explaining something, and you told him how much this reminded you of Yeonjun - he also had a similar collection of DVDs. Chan’s eyes lit up at that. He was surprised that people still bought DVDs, and you mentioned that he should meet Yeonjun. It was a crazy thing to suggest, but you didn’t think too much of it. Your two worlds colliding. You think they’d like each other. Thinking of it, Chan would probably like Felix, too. As he sifted through the records, you glanced back over to the couch where Hyunjin and Jisung were having an animated conversation. He seemed so happy, laughing loudly, eyes crinkling. You’d missed seeing him like that. You’d been getting used to meeting the tense version of him, and this was a welcome change. Around the people he loved, he seemed like the truest version of himself.

You wanted to catch a subtle glance at him for another split-second. But you caught so much more. He was staring at you. He was speaking to someone but his gaze kept flickering back to you, and he wasn’t even subtle about it. At least you had tried to not be so obvious, but he was blatantly checking you out. His gaze would flicker from his friends, to you, to your dress, to your legs. It made you feel dizzy, and you tried to not react.

You couldn’t still be upset at him for what happened all those weeks ago. He’d apologized, and he already said it was the hardest thing he had done. He had more than made up for it, hadn’t he? He had convinced you to stay. You’d tried so hard to move on, to force feelings for others, you’d kissed another boy, but it was impossible. Ever since he left Daejon…you’d tried to not think about him, but he was everywhere and in everything you saw. In your good moments, and in your bad. Even after he broke your heart, he was all around you.

Chan started telling you about his favorite records, and you got lost in the conversation until Kairi called him back, whining cutely from the empty armchair. So with a few top-tier record recommendations by Chan, you made your way back to the couch, and Hyunjin was still laughing over a silly joke. He shifted so you could sit, and as soon as you did, he asked you, “Find anything you liked?”

“Quite a few. I’m excited to hear them.”

And just like that, with a small smile and a nod, Hyunjin’s hand moved to your bare thigh. Your dress had ridden up as soon as you’d sat back down, and he had jumped at the opportunity with no hesitation. Your heart raced at the realisation. Anybody could see this, but he didn’t seem to care. He inched upwards, settling comfortably on your upper thigh, right where the hem of your dress ended. It sent a wave of arousal though you. Jisung began speaking again. Trying to be nonchalant was hard, when your heart was jumping up and down at this little development. A part of you was so happy he’d forgotten any and all unsaid boundaries that he had set himself months ago. Things had changed with him, and you wanted to dig into his brain to find out what led to this behaviour. What happened to not wanting you, to not taking risks, to not wanting a relationship or love? 

The others didn’t seem to care that Hyunjin was touching you so openly, or that he’d completely checked out of the conversation. He was too preoccupied with touching you. His thumb drew circles on your bare skin, and it was comforting, it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but how could it also not be? You’d been starved for this, so you couldn’t help the sensations through you at his simple touch. Chan spoke to you again, “You should really come to the building. We can show you around. Eunwoo would probably be okay with it.”

You guessed that Eunwoo was their manager’s name, and you supposed that Chan was directing that to Hyunjin, but Hyunjin had completely stopped participating in this discussion, forgetting that he held a purpose to this gathering other than touching you like this. But no purpose could be greater than that, could it? 

Each circle he traced sent a shiver down your spine, strokes of lightning down your thigh, between your legs. Jisung started talking about something else, and you couldn’t keep track. You were lightheaded. You were dying. Each second that Hyunjin’s thumb brushed against your thigh, you screamed a bit inside. He was so nonchalant with it, holding your leg at a party like you were his. You were his. Despite everything. His metallic rings were cold on your skin, and Hyunjin's hands slipped between your thighs. All of his friends were here, but nobody was looking at that. Hyunjin was talking to Chan, smiling occasionally, and groping your thigh at the same time. You wish he'd never stop. It was so fucking hot. Your head was spinning, and your heart felt like it might collapse from beating too fast. It couldn’t be normal for it to pound so loudly in your chest. Could everyone in this room hear you? Could they hear the insanity within you for him? Why couldn’t he should just drop this charade, take you away and fuck you right now?

A drink. You needed a drink. You interrupted the conversation, perhaps speaking far too loudly, “Han, could you please pass me the bottle of wine?”

Han nodded, reaching over with the bottle clumsily, and it was fine until it wasn’t. He was too drunk and preoccupied as he handed it to you. The wine spilled over, landing right on your lap and soaking your dress. “Fuck!” Jisung exclaimed, standing up, “I’m so sorry!”

Hyunjin pulled his hand back from your thigh, at the sudden sensation. It was like a cold shower, snapping you out of your daze. The liquid ruined your dress, and it was an expensive one, but it wasn’t Jisung’s fault. You wouldn’t blame him when it was entirely your fault. You didn’t want to disrupt the party, so you quickly stood up, “Don’t worry about it.” You glanced at Kairi, who’d vaguely registered that this had happened, “Could I use your bathroom?”

“Of course. Do you need me to bring you a change of clothes?”

“No, it should be fine. Excuse me…” You made your way out of the living room. You went up the stairwell, the music fading in the background. Your heels were muffled on the carpeted staircase, and your legs felt shaky. Jisung had informed you the bathroom was to the right. You stepped in, catching a glimpse of yourself in the reflection. Your hair was messier than it should be, but it was still fine. You hadn’t drank anything in the past few hours, but you definitely felt drunk. Opening the faucet, you splashed droplets of water onto your dress. The wine had completely spread out, staining the skirt, and your only respite was that it was red wine on a red dress. You braced yourself against the countertop, letting out a sigh, wondering if this had been a stupid idea.

A soft knock pulled you out of your despair.

“Come in.” You unlocked the door to Hyunjin standing there. He was leaning against the doorway, hands tucked in his pockets, “Hey…you okay?” His concerned gaze fell to your dress, “What’s the verdict? Will the dress survive?”

“You tell me.” You laughed, lifting it up to show him the wine stain. He grimaced, “Shit. You need help?” You didn’t. After all, what could he do that you couldn’t? But you nodded, “Yeah”

He stepped in. The bathroom was tiny. It was cute, with a marble countertop and Kairi clearly had a flair for decoration. Hyunjin pushed his sleeves up, wetting his hands in the sink and grabbed the hem of your dress, fingers rubbing at the stain. He was bent over, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated. He must be trying a new cologne. His scent was so strong, infiltrating your brain, your body, your being. It was sexy, and it was so him. It didn’t help how dizzy you felt.

“I don’t think it's going to come out.” You said truthfully, so he wouldn’t engage in a losing battle. He seemed determined though, “I’m sorry. Jisung can be…such a klutz sometimes.”

“It wasn’t his fault.” You said, as Hyunjin suggested, “There must be something in the cabinet that would help, like a wine stain remover or something.”

“I doubt it.” You laughed, leaning against the counter and Hyunjin dejectedly let go of your skirt. He was frowning, a stupid pout on his pretty face, “It’s a shame… That’s a beautiful dress.”

You smiled, accepting this loss and crossed your arms, “Don’t worry too much. It’s only temporary. I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“Maybe I can step into Kairi’s closet, and grab you another dress?” He suggested. You shook your head before he could finish, “You don’t need to do that for me.”

Yet he was about to leave, determined to get you out of this sticky situation. A surge of panic rose through you. You grabbed the front of his sweater, pulling him back in, “Wait, Hyunjin.”

He stumbled back to you, confused, “Yeah?”

Your voice fell to a lower tone, a little embarrassed at your urgency, “Don’t go just yet.”

His eyes met yours, an intense look in them, “Why?”

Your eyes closed, and you were still gripping onto his sweater, “My head is spinning.”

“You drank too much?” He realised. You opened your eyes to look at him, and he was much closer than you’d anticipated, “I guess I was trying to deal with being in the same room as you.” You joked, with a dry chuckle. He seemed amused, “You really can’t stand me that much?”

You bit your lip, glancing up at him, wondering if he missed all the obvious signs tonight, “You know that’s not true.”

“And I know that your head’s not really spinning.” He said without pause. You frowned, straightening up, “How could you possibly know that?”

His lips curled up, and he could probably hear your pounding heart, “You didn’t even have a single sip tonight. I was looking at you the entire night.”

So he noticed that all you drank was water tonight, but you had to keep up appearances, “You’re accusing me of lying?”

“Maybe you’re just trying to keep me in here with you.”

Your voice dropped, “Why would I do that, Hyunjin?”

His eyes crinkled, an amused expression on his face which was so cocky that it pissed you off and turned you on at the same time. He said, “I don’t claim to know your secret agenda.”

“I don’t have an agenda.”

He shrugged, a smile playing at his lips, “Spilling wine on yourself on purpose sure makes it seem like you have one.”

“What are you talking about?” You gasped, laughing in disbelief at his accusation, “Why would I do something so stupid?”

“Because you knew I’d follow you.” He gripped the marble counter behind you, caging you between his arms. You lost your words, heat rising to your cheeks, and suddenly reality was settling in. He was closer to you every second, and you could see every detail on his face - you could see yourself in his eyes, and his lips were so close to to being on yours. The situation seemed all too familiar, and you had to think straight. You couldn’t let yourself be driven by lust again, you couldn’t just be conveniently kissing him, no matter how much you wanted it, without knowing what it meant to him. You mumbled, hands reaching up to his chest, like a physical barrier between your bodies, and it took you strength to do and say so, “Hyunjin…you can’t kiss me if you’re just going to leave again.”

His voice was soft, “I think for me to leave you tonight, someone would have to kill me."

Something in you shifted, and your body was buzzing and tingly all over. He never had trouble leaving you before so you couldn't understand, “What... changed?”

He paused, as if finding the right words, “Even when you were gone…you were everywhere.”

His gaze fixated on yours, like he could see right through you, into your soul, and maybe he could this entire time. Maybe that’s why everything he spoke was thoughts you’d kept hidden, and every touch felt like coming home. When he was gone, he was everywhere too. If you ever needed more of a sign...then this was it. There were so much you could say to him in that moment, but you just settled for saying, “You were right.” 

He was incapable of looking in your eyes, gaze fixated on your lips, “About what—?” And in the same second, you pulled him to you, unable to keep any of this charade up longer, fists knotted in his shirt, crushing his lips to yours. 

A surprised noise left his mouth at your urgency but Hyunjin was a lover before he was anything else and so he recovered within seconds, grabbing your face to kiss you back. His grip was tight, and desperate, and you pushed him until he was against the door. His lips tasted of a strange combination of red wine and of strawberry tart, and he pressed his mouth to yours so hard it could bruise, one hand around your neck, the other gripping your jaw, and it wasn't enough. He only pulled back to breathe, and let out a breathless chuckle, “I was right about what?”

“I did drop the wine on purpose.” You admitted, wondering his reaction, but he just immediately grabbed you again, crushing your mouths together again. It was stupid but you just needed to be alone with him, and it was the only way you could think of. He laughed in between the kiss, “That’s so stupid.” He pressed you to the counter, hands tight on your waist, knocking over whatever Kairi had so perfectly curated on the countertop. Your head spun with desire, and he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. He accommodated you so easily, tilting his head to kiss you better, falling back into this rhythm like it was natural to your body. You let go of his shirt, leaving it crinkled, so you could tug at his hair. His hands were everywhere. Around your neck, in your hair, at your waist. He groaned, pulling away for a second to mumble, “I missed you so much. You could have just asked me... And I thought I did stupid things to get your attention.”

“I missed you too.” You breathed, hands resting at the nape of his neck, sifting through his hair as you looked up at him, doe eyes, and since he wanted you to ask him, you would, “Please kiss me again.��

He didn’t hesitate, pressing his lips to yours and grinning into the kiss. Your hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans, and you tugged at them, trying to unbutton it. He must have sensed your urgency, a whine mixed in between your pecks, so he grabbed your thighs, lifting you onto the marble countertop. He didn’t stop kissing you for a second, fingers skimming your skin, sending a rush through your body, and his tongue slipped into your mouth again, and you wish you could swallow each other whole.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, so reminiscent of the first time you’d kissed him. It had been on a night like tonight, and the longing had built up so much it was pouring out of you. All of this pining certainly couldn’t be good for the two of you by the roughness of your touches, like you were both afraid to be pulled away from each other. You tugged at his sweater, pushing it up to his chest, so you could touch his skin. Your hands were cold, and he shivered at the touch, but he didn’t stop you, kissing your jaw at the same time you felt him up. Your head tilted to the ceiling as he trailed kisses down your neck, you let your hands explore his body, feeling the muscles in his abdomen and tightening your hold on him. He was so compliant. He was so desperate. You felt him undo your bow, unzipping the dress. A fire burned within you, and his name was a familiar moan on your lips, “Hyun…”

“Yes, baby?” His voice was hoarse, and his mouth and his face was covered in your red lipstick. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. A giggle escaped you, and you brushed your thumb against his lips, “You have some of me on you.”

He shook his head, unbothered, leaning in to kiss you again, “I have all of you in me.”

It meant something deeper than red lipstick. It meant so much that you could probably wonder about it for days, but you just grabbed his face in your hands, cupping his soft cheeks. All of him was in you too. He was a part of who you were, and you couldn’t recall a time before Hyunjin in your life. He kissed your cheek, trailing kisses down your neck. It was hard to think straight when his mouth was sucking on you, and the bulge in his pants was pressing against you. You're sure Kairi kept a condom in here somewhere. You would let him fuck you. Right here. Right now. But a familiar worry festered within you, and it was physically impossible to pull back from the kiss as you whispered, “Wait.. you’re sure about doing this?”

He opened his eyes to look at you, and he looked so lovesick, eyes-half lidded, breathing heavy, hair messy and your spit and lipstick coating his lips, “About what?”

You touched his face, tracing your fingers over his cheeks and his pretty mouth, tracing it all to memory again after it had been ripped away from you for all this time. Perhaps you were ruining the passion of the moment, but you couldn’t let yourself go through that heartbreak again, “I don't want you to regret this. You said you didn’t want to start something that could put you…or the band at risk. So are you sure about…what we’re doing?”

It seemed to be Hyunjin’s biggest fear — a relationship, falling in love, somebody finding out about you. His company. His managers. His fans. The press. The rest of the world. 

“I was sure the minute I asked you to stay, Y/N.” He whispered, kissing you again, “You’re…everything to me.”

The confession seemed drastic from the Hyunjin who had pushed you away countless times, from the Hyunjin who kissed you only to tell you he could never want a relationship. Yet you still didn’t know what he actually wanted. Would he wake up and regret this? He kissed the corner of your mouth, like he couldn’t get enough of you, squeezing you in his grip, and said, “I’ve been doomed for you ever since I saw you. Nothing changed. I just…decided to stop fighting it.”

His words implied a sense of… inevitability and fate. You were doomed for him too. No matter what pulled you apart, something pushed you together always. It felt like an endless cycle…a trajectory you two were on that neither of you could control. Your eyes widened, and you'd never been this happy, “You’re…not just saying this because you’re drunk?”

He smiled at your words, cupping your face, “I’m not drunk, Y/N. If you really want to know what changed…the past month, I’ve just been feeling so fucking stupid. Seeing you with somebody else. I think I wanted to die when I saw you kiss Nate…and not being able to talk to you about everything, god, for the past few months, I couldn’t get you out of my head and I would have so much to say and no one to say it to…and then on the other hand, I see Chan the happiest he’s ever been, and I feel…so fucking stupid.”

His eyes seemed so sincere, so genuine and you whispered, “So…what are we doing to do now?”

“I guess... now we have to go back downstairs, because our friends are waiting for us…and you’re still soaked in wine.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, and he pulled you closer, like he didn't want to let you go.

“Right…” You trailed off, tightening your grip on him, “That’s probably what we should do.”

“Yeah. That’s the right thing to do.” He mumbled, but he was already eating up his own words, swallowing your breath, and pressing you to the mirror. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer in a starved, hungry kiss and it didn’t feel humanely possible to be closer than this. He let out a moan, pressing kisses to your lips, “Fuck, I missed you so fucking much.”

You nodded, matching his every frenzied kiss, “Me too. I want you so bad.”

This rush. It seemed to always consume you, and Hyunjin squeezed your tits through your dress, pushing the skirt up and you were both losing control again. He pulled back, restraining himself, “I…we shouldn’t do this here.”

He said that, but he still kept kissing you, and this was a vicious cycle you would always find yourself in. You had wanted him for so long that you didn’t care where you were, but surely…this wasn’t the place. Your first time being that intimate with him shouldn’t be on top of a marble bathroom countertop, with so much opportunity to be interrupted by your friends. You’d just be setting yourself up for failure if you continued. You pulled back from the kiss too, “I think somebody needs to physically separate us for that to work.”

He laughed, and his voice was hoarse from all the kissing, and his lips were swollen. You were capable of waiting a while, instead of jumping each others bones right now. You were both adults, and you could restrain yourself. It was hard to take him seriously with imprints of your lipstick on his mouth. It made him look romantic. It made him look like yours. You wish you covered all of him in it, lip prints over his whole body, leaving no spot un-kissed. You’d missed him so much, it just felt dumb to stop now, but you did. He breathed in, calming himself, “You’re right. We…don’t have to rush.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “I want to rush though.”

He laughed, fingers caressing your jaw so softly, “I just…I have to ask you something, before we go back downstairs—”

“Yes?”

“I know that I’ve acted stupidly about this in the past, but when I told you all those things, when I said that it’s a risk, that’s still true, Y/N. It’s still dangerous. You don’t know how wild it can get, if…anybody finds out about you. People are just looking for an opportunity to hurt us, me, the other guys, and…if you’re around me, then that includes you too. I can’t let anything happen to you, or hurt you. I would never forgive myself.” Hearing him talk made you afraid again. This was where it had always ended. This would be the last thing Hyunjin would always say to you, after kissing you. It always ended here, like a dead-end to your perfect dream, and you dreaded his next words, heart pounding like you'd pass out. You expected it.

But instead he said, “I want you. So much. I know that now, that nothing can replace the feeling of you.”

Your eyes were wide, and this was already a different direction than it. had ever gone last time, “What are you saying, Hyunjin?”

“I’m saying that…if we…really do this, there’s going to be a lot of…discretion. It’s probably going to be difficult and frustrating as fuck, and we’re both going to have to be really careful. Is that… really okay with you?”

You understood what Hyunjin was asking you. If you and him were to be together, it could only be a thing of secrecy. 

It wouldn’t be a relationship you dreamed of. Nothing about it would be normal, or usual. It would only exist behind closed doors, and in storage closets, and in the privacy of your bedrooms. If you and him were to continue this…it would always have to stay a secret. 

It would be hard to restrain your love for him, but in all honesty… you had done nothing else since you were fifteen and saw him in the art shop. You had loved him since then, and you could love him in any circumstance, even if it was in secret. Going back to not having him in your life was impossible. You leaned in to kiss him, to remind yourself of how real this was, and how much he was worth to you. An excitement bloomed in your chest from what was to come as you whispered against his lips, “I guess it’s a good thing then that I’m good at keeping secrets.”

»»————-

masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 

[autlantic]

CHAPTER 1 | ICE QUEEN

words : 1.1k

notes : hi guys ☺️ it’s me again. kinda love the plan i have for this story, so hope you enjoy! to be added to taglist just comment or send me a dm <3

masterlist | next chapter

Returning to UA for third year felt surreal.

After the violence and total hell, to put it simply, that you’d all faced in the past two years, the fact you were still standing and attending school as normal was honestly shocking. Even more surprisingly, you were actually excited to return to class for the first time in history.

Summer had been busy- you’d completed your longest internship yet with Hawks, unable to see your friends (excluding Tokoyami) more than a handful of times due to the constant training and patrols. It was all worth it though, an offer to join the exclusive agency shining at the end.

Faced with the massive door labelled ‘3A’, a shiver of excitement and also sadness runs up your spine, familiar voices spilling from the classroom.

The second you open the door, a loud squeal of your name catches your attention and sends a massive grin across your face. Mina has you wrapped in a hug in seconds, the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo filling you with affection.

“It’s been too long!! Oh my god, i’ve almost dropped dead being away from you all summer.” She starts chattering away, pulling at the little diamond covered snowflakes hanging from your ears and asking if they’re new. “Come sit, I saved you a seat!”

Following the pink haired girl, you sit down and snicker noticing your seat is directly behind Bakugou’s. There’s your entertainment sorted for the year. Sero and Kirishima are in the midst of harassing Kaminari for the details of his new relationship, the flushed boy sighing in relief at the sight of you.

“You’re here! We thought you were gonna miss home room on first day.” He laughs, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder affectionately. If anyone deserved to have the fairytale high school relationship, it was him and Jirou. You’d witnessed him pining and staring at her all pink-cheeked during classes, and the little soft launch pictures she’d been posting over summer made you grin every time.

“I’d never do that to you all, not after you’ve been missing me so dearly all summer.” You smirk, before leaning forwards on your arms to kick at Bakugou’s chair legs. “Especially Bakugou, right blasty?”

Probably a bad idea to start picking a fight before Aizawa had even arrived, but it’s hard to resist when you’ve been put in the power position of the seating plan. Bakugou’s head spins round almost in slow motion, kind of like an owl. You snicker at the thought. His crimson eyes are narrowed, brows furrowed so deeply you wonder if they’ll get stuck like that.

“In your fuckin’ wet dreams, snow queen.” He snarls, pushing your arm out from under your head and barking out a satisfied laugh when your head almost hits the table. You don’t get a chance to snap back before Aizawa sulks into the suddenly silent class, slamming a mug of what you assume is coffee onto his desk.

“Don’t think you’re gonna get off easy because the year has just started.” He starts, voice gruff. “Pack your bags back up, we’ll be attending a training camp on Wednesday.”

❄️

It’s hard to focus in physical training later that day.

Mountains! Skiing! Hot tubs! All things you’ll get to enjoy on the trip, and not in the sweaty gym that had somehow been turned into a desert landscape. Even the temperature had been artificially increased, sweat making wisps of hair cling to your forehead in sticky barcode strips. Your quirk, ‘winter’, wasn’t cut out for this type of environment- you could make and manipulate ice, snow and wind, but in this heat it was a lot harder to produce the cold substances.

A loud bang exploded in the distance, making you grimace. Dealing with Bakugou right now sounded like a pain you’d rather not have to deal with. Your quirk was powerful, but it made you struggle to maintain the correct body temperature. Excessive heat or cold was bad, leaving you weakened.

“Oi!”

You groan, frosting your palms over and rubbing the cold slush over your face in search of some relief. God he was the bane of your existence. A larger explosion goes off, a lot closer this time, and you send a wave of slippery ice over the sandy ground for easier movement.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Bakugou sneers, palms sparking as he storms towards you.

“I’m flattered.”

You and Bakugou have been stuck in this rivalry since first year; ever since you had claimed Todoroki was a bigger threat at the sports festival. Shoto was supposed to be your natural born rival- ice on ice, element on element. Your ice abilities were stronger, but he had an entire second quirk on top of that which seemed a little unfair. It was only a throw away comment, but Bakugou had taken it personally and blown you to absolute smithereens in the ring. You hated him for it then, and you still did now. Since that day, you’d trained harder than ever to take him down- and you had, many a time.

“I’m too hot to fight you, Bakugou.” You pout, clicking your heels together so the little blades would shoot out. Hatsume had saved your life with these babies.

The boy sends a massive blast your way, forcing you to skate off to the left. Creating a path of ice under foot, you expel a gust of wind to throw him off course mid air, sharp splinters of frozen water hidden in the blow.

A harsh siren blares, signifying the end of class, and you clap gleefully at the thought of lunch and air con. Turning to Bakugou, you resist the urge to point out that you made the last move, deciding not to rile him right before meeting your friends. Kirishima was insistent on making the two of you ‘bond’, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him his two best friends weren’t going to magically get over their differences and start skipping along hand in hand.

Maybe one day, if pigs learned to fly.

taglist : tba

[oddinary4bts]

Be With You | ch 1

☆summary: who knew that the hot guy you've been paired with for a class project is also a kind soul? Certainly not you, and you feel yourself falling even though you know you shouldn't. Will it be your demise, or will it all work out in the end?

☆pairing: Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: slow burn strangers to lovers, college!au, smut, angst and fluff

☆warnings: this one starts with a memorial service, childhood/high school friend of brother died in car accident, mentions of flat earthers and other conspiracies, mentions of alcohol, cursing, a school project, Byeol <3, oc's birthday, san is cute and cocky at the same time, explicit content: grinding, dirty talking, jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, he comes in her mouth, big dick!San, oc is a brat hihi

☆word count: 12.9k

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here

☆a/n: chapter one is hereeee hope y'all enjoy <3 and the beginning of this one might be a lil hard to some of y'all, don't hesitate to reach out if you need to talk! Last but not least, thank you to @moonleeai for your amazing work as my beta reader, I love you and am forever thankful for you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

Cold snowflakes Withered down Until you bloom As a spring flower I'll be with you

Be With You, Ateez (english translation)

☆☆☆☆☆

Sunday, September 22nd

You’ve been staring at a light ray for a couple of minutes, the serene ambiance of the church making you feel sleepy.

Or as sleepy as one can get during a memorial service.

Dust plays in the light ray, the stained glass colouring the light and dust in different hues of red, blue and yellow, with some green sprinkled into it. The priest is talking at the altar, relating a passage from the Bible that you don’t care to listen to, and all you can think about is the stupid project you have to do after this.

It’s not that you didn’t care about Nick - he was a friend through high school, but three years have passed since you graduated and last spoke to him. More than that, you’ve never been of the emotional kind, especially not in public. You cried when you got the news, but that was that.

Your brother shifts next to you, and you shoot him a look. He answers with a sad smile, and you pat his thigh, trying to offer him support.

Yunho was always closer to Nick. Maybe because they are both guys, and they were on the same hockey team for years. So, learning about Nick’s car crash hit him like a train, and he’s been a mess since you’ve learned. Luckily enough, your best friend Sydney has been here with you, and if there’s one thing that can cheer Yunho up, you know it’s her.

He’s been in love with her ever since he figured out what love was in middle school, after all. 

Sydney nudges you with an elbow, and you throw her a look next.

“You okay?” she mouths.

You nod but then motion towards Yunho. She leans forward just enough to catch sight of your brother, and a crease appears between Sydney’s eyebrows as she frowns. She then sits back, sighing, and you purse your lips before resuming your attention on the memorial service.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur of dust and amens and prayers, and then you’re walking out into the early fall evening, the rich scent of the forest surrounding the church hitting you head on.

Yunho walks with his head down, aimlessly kicking a rock, and you push Sydney towards him, knowing that she’ll be much better than you at cheering him up. She falls into step with him, hooking her arm with his, and Yunho throws her his “lovesick puppy” look that she never interprets.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he says.

“Of course,” Sydney answers back. “He was my friend too.”

You consider chiming in from behind with the same thing, but you let them have their moment, instead pulling your phone out of your purse. You’ve received a couple of text messages, most of them from the guy you’re doing your project with later.

[4:12 pm] San: still on for tonight? [4:39 pm] San: hello? [5:01 pm] San: please let me know [5:02 pm] San: cause if not i’ll plan something else😉

You roll your eyes, swiping up so the conversation opens, and you quickly fire back an answer.

[5:10 pm] You: chill, i was at a memorial service [5:10 pm] You: yes, we’re still on

You’re sitting on the back seat of Sydney’s car by the time San replies, and you sigh audibly as you read.

[5:14 pm] San: lol my condolences [5:15 pm] San: come to my place anytime

“What’s wrong?” Sydney says, and she glances at you in the rearview mirror.

“This dude is annoying,” you say, raising your phone. “And I’m fucking stuck with him for my populism and conspiracy culture class.”

“Not your flat-earthers class.”

You laugh. “Yeah.” You show her your phone. “And San is just this random, classic college fuckboy that the professor assigned as my partner.”

“Choi San?” Yunho lets out.

You frown. “You know him?”

Yunho glances at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, we’ve got friends in common.”

Your frown deepens. “You have friends?”

“Y/n!” Sydney chimes in, and you burst out laughing.

It wins you a smile from Yunho, and that most of all makes it worth it, if only so that he stops looking so devastated.

The rest of the ride is spent in easy conversation, though you all avoid the topic of Nick, the heaviness from the memorial service still lingering in the air. You text San to ask if you could meet at the library, but apparently it’s closed due to a water leakage.

When you get to the apartment, you follow behind Yunho with Sydney as he unlocks the front door, and then you climb up the stairs to the third level. Yunho opens the door, and you kick off your shoes the moment you’re in.

“You guys want to eat something?” you say to no one in particular.

Yunho shrugs, the grief clearly hitting him again, and you look at Sydney, before pointedly looking towards Yunho. Sydney gets the message, and she pulls Yunho to the living room while you head to the kitchen.

Though there are some pizza leftovers in the fridge from last night’s dinner - your birthday dinner, yet you don’t particularly like pizza - you decide to cook some mac’n’cheese for the three of you, seeking a meal you know always cheers Yunho up.

It takes you about fifteen minutes, but then you’re walking out of the kitchen with two bowls wafting steam, and Yunho meets your gaze as you stop in front of him and Sydney where they’re lounging on the couch.

Each on their own side, but you don’t miss the way Yunho is slightly leaning towards her.

“Eat this,” you tell your brother, shoving the bowl in his hands.

You hand the other to Sydney, who thanks you while Yunho just stares at the food. You narrow your gaze, tapping the top of his. “Eat, Yunho. You need the food.”

It’s like he snaps out of a daze, and he nods as he picks up the fork and takes a bite. You wait until he’s eaten a couple of them before heading back to the kitchen, where you grab your own bowl. You’re back in the living room in no time, and you sit on the floor with your back against the couch, eyes going to the TV.

“Are you guys really watching Love is Blind?” you ask, almost in disbelief.

Sydney laughs sheepishly. “I just thought it could be great to watch a dumb show for a little while.”

“I like the show,” Yunho deadpans, and you think of course he does.

Maybe it’s the hopeless romantic in him, but he’s indeed always liked dating shows. It’s something you and Sydney don’t relate to - there’s just so much human stupidity you can take before getting annoyed.

“You need to get better tastes in TV shows,” you fire back, and then you eat a spoonful of noodles.

“And you need to stop being a bitch.”

You glare at your brother over your shoulder, though you don’t miss the teasing glint in his eyes. You love to see it there, so you let the insult slide, instead focusing on eating and watching the show in comfortable silence.

You’re almost done with your food when your phone vibrates on the floor next to you, where you put it down when you sat. Your eyes slide to it to notice it’s San texting you again, and you keep your annoyance at bay as you pick up your phone.

[6:34 pm] San: are you going to be here soon?

You can’t help it - you sigh again, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Sydney.

“That guy again?” she asks.

You nod. “I don’t know why I said it was a good idea to do the project tonight,” you say.

Because of course you’d been the one to suggest it last Monday, though you hadn’t planned to have a memorial service today. 

Not that it’s something you can usually plan.

“I’m pretty sure he’d understand if you cancelled,” Sydney says. “It’s your birthday, and with what we were up to today…”

You shrug. “Ah, it’s fine. We celebrated my birthday yesterday.”

You did, and though you didn’t drink a single sip of alcohol, you still managed to have fun with your friends, Yunho even tagging along because you didn’t want to let him mope at home.

“Still,” Sydney insists.

You shrug again, and this time you don’t bother answering before texting San.

[6:36 pm] You: what’s your addy

You finish eating while waiting for his reply, and though part of you does find it strange that he wants you to meet at his apartment, you still call an Uber once you’ve put your bowl away in the sink, Sydney promising that she’ll do the dishes later.

“Do you want me to drive you there?” Sydney asks once you’re getting ready to leave.

You shake your head. “My Uber is already almost here, just stay here with Yunho.”

Yunho shoots her that same lovesick puppy look that she’s entirely blind too, and Sydney ignores it, as she always does.

“Do you need me to come pick you up?” she adds a heartbeat later

You shrug your shoulders. “Nah, I’ll just call an Uber again, don’t worry about it.”

Sydney narrows her gaze as she looks at you from where she’s standing by the kitchen, having followed you out after you put the dishes away. “Are you planning to not come home tonight?”

You snort. “No, I’m definitely coming home. But I want to get a lot of this project done, so feel free to head home before I come back.”

“I thought the plan was for me to stay over,” she says.

She’s right - you’d planned for her to stay after the memorial, though you’d then completely forgotten about your project when you’d planned so.

“True, true,” you let out as you put your shoes on. “Stay here then, and I’ll see you guys later.”

They echo the sentiment, and you finish getting ready, grabbing your school bag and making sure that the Uber is here.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Yunho teases as you get the confirmation that the Uber is downstairs, your hand already on the doorknob.

You cock an eyebrow. “I highly doubt that a project on the Illuminati will be a lot of fun, so I got that covered.”

Sydney chuckles. “I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

You don’t miss her wink, and you ignore it, rolling your eyes. “You guys don’t have too much fun without me!”

Yunho’s cheeks slightly tint with pink, and you don’t know how Sydney misses it. But then again she’s been oblivious to Yunho’s feelings for her ever since he started having them all those years ago.

A moment later, you’re sitting at the back of the Uber with your school bag next to you, and the car starts driving towards San’s apartment. You text him that you’re on your way, and then you look outside the window, enjoying the sunset and the gold that it paints the world with. The clouds up above are drenched golden, like they were dipped in liquid gold, and it’s a sight you’ve always loved - there’s beauty in endings like that of the day, or so you like to tell yourself.

You’re not quite sure there’s such beauty in the ending of a life like that of Nick, but you try not to think about it, not wanting to get emotional before you’re supposed to meet with San.

The clouds have turned to pink by the time the car drops you in front of San’s apartment, and you thank the driver as you grab your bag. You then get out of the car, moving towards the entry, though you stop out front to snap a quick picture of the sky that you send to Sydney.

You’re stopped at the second door of the building, this one locked despite the first one being unlocked. You eye the screen next to you - San lives in a fancier building than you first imagined. You search for his name on the screen, sighing in relief when you find it.

It rings for a few seconds, but then the door unlocks, and you walk in. You’re greeted by an older lady at the reception that nods at you, and you politely smile as you head to the elevator.

You press on the call button, and you scroll through your phone as you wait, stepping in as soon as the doors slide open. You click on the eighth floor, and the elevator shots upwards, coming to a halt quicker than you expected it would.

It takes you a minute to find San’s door, but then you’re standing in front of it, hesitating for a few seconds before you knock. You hear soft footsteps inside, and then the door unlocks, and San appears before your eyes.

The first thing you notice is the black tight-fitting athletic t-shirt he’s wearing - mostly because you’re almost at eye level with his chest. And the shirt leaves nothing to the imagination, so much so that you feel your cheeks burn as you look up to meet his gaze. He’s smirking, his eyes slightly crinkled at the corners, and his hair is unruly, a strand falling in front of his eyes even as he cards his hand through his hair.

“Hey,” he greets you with a smooth voice, and your eyes dip down just long enough to see that he’s wearing grey joggers.

“Hey,” you answer, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze, probably because your black dress pants and turtleneck combo does not match his look at all.

He’s the perfect picture of coziness, and here you are still in your memorial service outfit.

“Come in,” he says, and he steps aside so that you can walk in. 

You do so, and he softly shuts the door behind you, locking it and leaning against it. A second later he’s folding his arms on his chest, and you quickly look away from him.

“You have a nice apartment,” you say.

He does. It’s modern, with tall windows that currently show you the remnants of the sunset, and his living room is inviting, especially with the blanket abandoned on the large L-shaped couch. The kitchen is connected to the living room, and the island sports a marble counter that seems freshly cleaned, with some dishes peeking out of the sink.

There’s music playing, and you only understand why when you notice that the TV is currently on, the screen showing the pause menu of some videogame. A grey cat is sitting on a low table underneath the TV, its tail swishing from side to side as it looks at you with piercing blue eyes.

“Tha-” 

“You have a cat!” you let out excitedly, interrupting San. You immediately feel bad, but his soft laugh distracts you long enough for him to speak.

“I do,” he says, and then he’s walking towards the animal. He picks her up, walking back towards you, and you can’t help the smile that overtakes your lips when San stops next to you. “Meet Byeol.”

“Hi Byeol,” you coo, and you let the cat smell your hand before gently petting its head. “He’s adorable,” you say, and you meet San’s gaze before looking into the cat’s blue eyes again.

“She,” he corrects.

You wince. “Sorry for misgendering you,” you tell Byeol, patting her head. 

“She won’t forget.”

San’s teasing tone makes you narrow your gaze as you look up at him again. “Is that a threat?”

He chuckles, wetting his lips. “Maybe?”

Your throat feels dry, and all of a sudden, you understand San’s reputation - he isn’t one of the biggest fuckboys in your program for nothing. Indeed, there’s something effortless about his charm, about the way he glances down at your lips as if he knows he has an effect on you.

And he does. He fucking does, and it’s unexpected - you’ve barely ever spoken to him before except when the professor gave you the subject for your project, and he was clearly hungover then.

You clear your throat, taking off your shoes if only so then you don’t have to look him in the eye anymore. He puts the cat down, and then he’s walking back towards his couch, shooting you a look over his shoulder.

“You can grab the slippers by the door,” he tells you.

You glance at them, and you’re not surprised to see that he conveniently has smaller slippers, clearly for when he needs them for his… dates? 

Though you’re not sure he’s ever really gone on a date before. Not that you want to judge - he’s allowed to do whatever he wants to do, and it’s not like you haven’t had your share of adventures before.

If you can call them adventures.

You put the slippers on, and then you follow behind San, glancing to your left as you pass in front of an open door that leads to his bedroom. His bed is messy, black sheets in a bundle, and there’s an abandoned pair of socks on the floor. It’s boyish, yet it screams of comfort.

You push the thought away, shyly sitting on the edge of the couch while San gets comfortable under the blanket. He picks up a PS5 controller, and then he resumes his game of Elden Ring, as you can now see, his character riding a horse through the wilderness.

“Let me just finish this real quick,” San says, and you cock an eyebrow.

“Don’t we have a project to do?” There’s bite in your tone, and San’s eyes widen slightly before he bursts out laughing.

“Don’t get upset, I’ll be all yours in like two minutes.”

You don’t like the easy flirting in his words, so you don’t reply, busying yourself with getting your laptop out of your school bag and turning it on. Though it takes him a little more than two minutes, San soon follows your lead, turning off the game and the TV, then picking up his own laptop that was on the armrest of the couch next to you.

“So, what is this shit about?” he asks.

You snort. “This shit is about the Illuminati,” you answer.

“Sounds ominous,” he lets out. “What do you have on them?”

“The rich and elite are apparently part of them, or something of the sorts,” you say, tilting your head to the side as you scan the Wikipedia article you pulled up while San was finishing his quest, or whatever it is that he was doing in the game. “Some artists too.”

San peeks at your computer. “I don’t think Wikipedia is a good source.”

You side-eye him. “Just trying to figure out where to start is all.”

“Sure,” he lets out, and you don’t miss the teasing smile on his lips.

It’s strange - the teasing is familiar, easy, like you’ve been friends with him your whole life, and not only partners for a college project.

“You got a better idea?” you challenge him.

It’s like he was waiting for you to ask. He smiles, his eyes sparkling with male satisfaction, and then he opens a doc on his laptop, and your gaze widens as you see he’s already done a lot of research.

A lot more than you have, which amounts to absolutely none besides that Wikipedia article.

San shares what he’s found, and you help him reorganize it so that it makes more sense. He lets you do it, and it leads you to sit closer to him, your nose picking up the scent of the cologne he put on earlier today, or maybe yesterday evening.

He smells of something like whisky and vanilla, and though you’d never think the two scents would mix well, they do on him.

The sun is fully set once you finish going through everything that he already has, and you pull out the instruction for the first part of your project, which is a short report you have to submit by the end of September. 

“You hungry?” San asks as you’re trying to figure out the first sentence of the report.

“Huh?” you let out, your eyes begrudgingly leaving your computer screen to meet his gaze.

He’s closer than you thought he’d be, and you can’t help but notice the dimples on his cheeks. “I said, are you hungry?”

You purse your lips. “I ate before I came.”

“Weren’t you at some…” he trails off, motioning vaguely at your outfit.

He looks uncomfortable as you say, “At a memorial service?” He nods, and he seems even more uncomfortable when you add, “Yeah, I was.”

“There was food?”

This time you laugh - there’s something endearing about Choi San getting uncomfortable about something. The confidence he’d exuded earlier seems to have disappeared, and there’s a slight pout to his lips, like he’s wishing you wouldn’t be talking about that at all.

“I ate at home before coming here,” you explain. “But feel free to eat something.”

He seems relieved that you’ve maneuvered away from the topic of the memorial, and he shrugs his shoulders. “Nah, I can eat when you leave.”

“Does that mean you want me to go now?” you ask.

His gaze widens, his mouth falling open for a second. “Wait, no, what?”

You laugh at his bewildered expression. “You okay?”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “I’m actually starving. But you don’t have to go!”

“Well then, grab something to eat, I’ll just be here with Byeol.”

Byeol indeed has joined you on the couch, lying between you and San. You already like her - though you’re not usually around cats a lot, you just can’t help yourself.

“She’s supposed to be mad at you,” he reminds you.

You smile, and he looks down at your lips, a soft smile following on his own face. He seems to realize it quickly, and he shakes his head, putting his laptop away as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Does she look mad?” you tease, petting the cat. “She was lying closer to me this whole time.”

San chuckles, and you look away from him as he walks towards his kitchen. “You wish, Y/n.”

You don’t know why. But the way he says your name… 

You feel different, like no one’s ever said your name before.

“Calling me by my full name, I see,” you joke, as if trying to hide the vulnerability he’s ignited in you.

If it’s vulnerability, and not something else entirely. Something much more… unnecessary when it comes to a college project partner.

“What do you want me to call you?” He remains silent for a moment, but then adds, “I don’t even know you.”

“Ouch,” you let out, and you put your laptop down, effectively distracted by the conversation. You turn towards him, meeting his gaze. “We’ve had a lot of classes together.”

He smirks, eyebrows raising. “Have we?”

“We’re not going to that big of a college, you know that right?”

He turns away from you, grabbing something in the fridge. “I know,” he says over his shoulder. “I just think it’s funny that you remember seeing me in class when I don’t remember you.”

You roll your eyes, choosing to remain silent. You instead stretch, glancing at Byeol where she’s still sleeping next to you. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat anything?” San asks.

You get up, your slippers padding on the hardwood floor as you make your way towards the kitchen. “I had mac’n’cheese before.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Maybe just a snack?”

He grabs a plate, and you watch as he empties the Tupperware he’s holding. You’re not surprised to see it’s broccoli, rice and chicken - San seems like the kind of gym guy who only eats broccoli, rice and chicken, after all.

“Nah, I’m good,” you say as you stop on the other side of the island. “I ate a lot for my birthday yesterday and I think I’m still full.”

“Your birthday?” he says, stopping halfway through emptying his dish. “It was your birthday yesterday?”

You tilt your head to the side. “It’s my birthday today.”

There’s a short silence as he just stares at you. He looks dumbfounded, almost insulted, and you feel a little awkward standing there.

“You did not come here to do a school project on your birthday,” he eventually says.

Your cheeks burn. “I… did?”

“And you had the memorial on your birthday too?” When you don’t reply, only staring at him sheepishly, he puts his dish down. “That won’t do.”

He moves towards a cupboard, and you watch him, a confused crease between your eyebrows, as he pulls a box of vanilla cake mix from there.

“You’re lucky these are my guilty pleasures,” he says, showing you the box. “I’ll bake you a cake.”

“God, no,” you quickly say. “You don’t have to bake me a cake.”

He glares at you. “Just sit down and let me bake you a cake, okay?”

He’s determined, that much you can tell. “I feel bad,” you mutter, yet you do sit on a stool. “You really don’t have to bake a cake.”

He opens the box, shrugging his shoulders. “This is going to be a much better dinner than what I was planning to have anyway.”

You laugh softly. “Not too fond of the gym meal prep?”

“Who is?” he jokes. 

“Clearly not you.”

He laughs, and the sound makes you glance away, only to see Byeol trotting towards you. She rubs her head on your calves, and you bend down to scratch her.

“Your cat is obsessed with me,” you say.

San chuckles. “Hard to resist.”

Your cheeks burn, yet this time you choose to bite. Maybe because he’s baking you a cake, which is more than your ex has ever done for you.

“Am I now?” you tease, straightening.

A smirk tickles the corners of San’s lips while he busies himself with pouring the cake mix into a large bowl. “Maybe?”

You narrow your gaze, though you can’t help but snort. It turns San’s smirk into a smile, and you just look at it for a few seconds, hating how endearing he is right now.

It’s the dimples. It has to be the dimples.

“I didn’t even ask,” he says as he grabs butter from the fridge. “You do like vanilla cake, right?”

You nod. “It’s actually my favourite. Not that I eat a lot of cake but…”

He grins then, nodding once. “You and I are going to get along well.”

You match his grin, if only because you can’t resist. “Just because of the cat, though.”

He widens his gaze, and then bursts out laughing. “I’m wounded.”

You make a show of eyeing him up and down, which proves to be a mistake as your eyes inevitably get stuck on his chest, on the way his muscles stretch the fabric of his shirt almost to indecency.

“Where’s the wound?” you ask, trying to sound teasing, though you’re pretty sure he doesn’t miss the breathiness aspect of your voice.

“Maybe you’ll see it if you come closer.”

You wet your lips. “You wish.”

San tilts his head to the side before looking down, letting out a small laugh. He doesn’t answer for a moment, and you think he’ll let it go. But then he looks up, meets your gaze, and says, “So what if I do?”

It’s the way he looks at you. You feel seen, as if you were in a crowd before and suddenly everyone’s disappeared. It’s just you and him, and the air fills with electricity, your brain deciding to conjure up an image of what he would look like without that shirt on.

You feel bad, guilty, yet it makes you feel… alive. 

“You always flirt with girls like this?” you ask, cheeks burning.

He wets his lips. “Only the pretty ones that come see me on their birthday.”

You roll your eyes, slightly shaking your head. “I did not come to see you, Choi San. I’m here for the Illuminati project.”

He narrows his gaze. “And here I am baking you a cake.” He looks down at said cake - which right now is just a mixture of cake mix - and he scoffs lightly. “Maybe I should stop here.”

“And eat your plain, boring chicken?”

“I put spices on it!” he quickly says, and he makes a show of pushing the plate towards you. “I’m not that uncultured.”

You laugh, and the smile that blooms on his lips is like a flower in the spring sun, and you once again find yourself looking away, searching for his cat as if that will make you forget the dimples adorning San’s cheeks.

“Yet you want to eat cake instead?”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, and then he’s popping his plate in the microwave. “I’ll eat both. Happy?”

He says it with a slight pout to his lips that just makes you laugh again. You can’t help it - you really feel like you know him, like you’ve known him your whole life. It’s easy complicity - understanding without having to say a word - and you bask in it.

If only to forget that you were indeed at a memorial on your birthday. At the memorial of someone just a year older, someone that should have had a long life stretched in front of them, yet lost it in a car crash.

“Okay,” San lets out a moment later, after he’s mixed eggs, milk and oil into the bowl. “I’ll put this in the oven-” His gaze widens. “I did not turn the oven on.”

You snort at his expression. “What an expert baker.”

This time when he laughs, his eyes close, his dimples flashing quickly. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“I take offense,” you say as you lay a heart on your chest. 

He just slightly scrunches up his nose as he glares at you, and then he spins around to turn the oven on. A second later, he’s pulling his reheated plate from the microwave. He opens a drawer, grabbing a fork and then closing it with his hip. 

“I’ll eat while the oven heats up and then we can work on the project some more,” he suggests.

You nod your head. “Sounds good.”

He sits next to you, and you let him eat in peace as you scroll on your phone. He ends up doing the same, and he’s done eating by the time the oven blares through the apartment, letting you know that it’s warm enough.

San gets up, and you’re dumbly aware of the way his arm brushes yours as he does so. You pretend that it doesn’t have any effect on you, yet a shiver shoots along your arm, leaving goosebumps behind.

San pours the cake preparation into a metallic dish - not before rubbing butter on it to make sure the cake doesn’t stick - and then puts the cake in the oven. You look up from your phone to watch him do so, and he catches your gaze momentarily, flashing you an easy smile before grabbing the plate from his dinner. He leaves it in the sink, and then rests his hands on his hips.

“Time for work.”

You stretch, nodding as you hold a yawn in. “Let’s do this.”

San ends up grabbing your laptop and bringing it to you so that you can work at the counter. He sits next to you again - too close for comfort, yet you don’t tell him to move.

Maybe because you don’t want him to.

Working on the project is easy. It really doesn’t make any sense to you. It’s like the professor knew San and you would work well together. Indeed, by the time his timer lets you know that the cake should be ready, you’ve almost finished the introduction for the report, and San declares it enough work for the evening.

“We’re on a roll,” you say. “Shouldn’t we try to finish it all?”

San shrugs as he gets up, and he remains silent for a moment. He instead grabs oven mitts to pull the cake out. You watch him stab it with a butter knife and quickly pulling it out, confirming that the cake is indeed ready, and then he finally looks at you.

“It’s your birthday,” he states. “We’ve done enough work for today.”

“We have to wait for the cake to cool down before we can eat it anyway,” you say.

He smiles. “Good thing we can watch a movie, mmh?”

You’re not sure it’s a good idea, but you keep it to yourself. Maybe because he looks cute like this, soft in a way you wouldn’t be able to explain even if you had a gun to your temple, and you don’t want to disappoint him. 

“A movie?”

He nods, his smile widening. “Yes. Or a show. Or anything really. It’s your birthday, you choose.”

“Mmmh,” you let out, chuckling. “Can I watch you game?”

“You want to watch me game?” he asks, as if not sure he heard you right.

You nod, offering him a smile.

“Wouldn’t that be boring for you?”

“No!” you say. “I love watching people game.” You pause for a moment, and then you smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief. “If they don’t suck, that is.”

He sees it for the challenge that it is. “You really are a brat, mmh?”

His voice is low, face more serious than you expected it to be, and red slowly tints your cheeks as they burn from the sudden heat in his gaze.

“Am I?” you innocently reply.

He breaks out character to let out a laugh, and then he nods his head. “You definitely are. But you’re the birthday girl, so I’ll do my best to impress you.”

You like that he wants to impress you. Like that he tells you to sit on the couch and offers you his blanket. It faintly smells like him, like vanilla and whiskey, and it’s warm, soft like you imagine his skin to be. 

“Do you want a drink?” he says after he’s turned his TV and PS5 on, and the game loads. 

“I don’t drink,” you admit. “But thank you.”

He purses his lips, then glances at the TV. “I can mix you a virgin drink, you know?”

You watch as his character appears on the screen again. You’re surprised he doesn’t ask you why you don’t drink - it’s usually the first question everyone asks.

“You’re being too nice,” you say teasingly.

He smiles. “Just today,” he says, winking at you. “I’ll go back to my usual self when it’s not your birthday anymore.”

You glance at the time on your phone. “You’re telling me I just have two hours and a half left?”

San shrugs, getting up from the couch. He hands you the controller, and you cock an eyebrow in question before grabbing in. He walks to the kitchen then, and you only understand what he’s doing when he grabs a large plate from a cupboard to put the cake on it. 

Once the cake has safely made it to the plate, San walks back towards you, laughing at your expression.

“What?” he says. 

“Why did you give me this?” you ask, waving the controller around slightly. “I don’t know how to play.”

“I can show you,” he suggests. “In the two and a half hours we have left.”

You smile and you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your lips before the corners of his lift upwards too. 

“I really do want to watch you, though.”

He nods. “Then give me this.”

You do, handing him the controller back, and then he plops down on the couch next to you. He’s close enough for his arm to brush you again, and you slightly lean into the touch, if only because his gravity is pulling you in.

“So,” he lets out, and then he starts showing you the controls. 

It takes longer than you’d imagined it would, yet it’s easy, comfortable. There’s some sort of coziness to the moment, of easy familiarity you indulge in, and he ends up letting you ride a horse for a while. It’s fun, though you eventually fall from a cliff, which just earns you a fit of laughter from him as you profusely apologize.

“Don’t worry, I saved before,” he tells you, flashing you his dimpled smile. “You still want to play?” 

You sheepishly lean back into the couch, dropping the controller on his thighs. “You’re a lot better at this than I am.”

He chuckles. “You’ll get better in time, I’m sure.”

You highly doubt - you don’t have a PS5 at home, and you don’t think you’ll come back here anytime soon. Not that San is not good company - he definitely is, but you don’t want to get too close.

Not when you know his reputation, and when you have a semester-long project to do with him. 

San plays for a while longer, long enough for your eyelids to grow heavy. He doesn’t comment, but you’re sure he’s noticed the way you’re slowly sinking into the couch, the whole day and its exhaustion catching up to you despite you trying to focus on the screen. You end up dozing off, your head on his shoulder - when did it end up there? - only to wake up some time later as he gently shakes you.

“Hey, sleepy head,” he says as you open your eyes. 

You look up, meeting his gaze, and the world feels like it’s slowing to a halt. Like it’s pausing for you and him, to give you a moment to just admire his features from up close. To admire the way his eyes are soft, shining from within, and the way just a few inches separates you from those pretty, pink lips of his.

You’re struck dumb. Struck silent, struck with your eyes slowly widening, and you refuse to voice the tension that arises in your whole body. Refuse to give in to it, to even think about it. Instead, you straighten, stretching your arms. 

“Shit, my bad,” you apologize.

He laughs cutely. “Don’t worry about it. You looked like you needed it.”

Did you? You did, and your heart warms inevitably - of course he’d notice.

“And, you woke up just in time for us to put the icing on the cake,” he says, eyes sparkling still.

“Right.” You yawn, and then snort. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so tired.”

“Hey, it’s totally okay.” He glances at the TV - he’s paused the game, and the music is low, yet it sounds like he was in an important spot. “Besides, we only have less than an hour left to your birthday. Gotta make the best of it.”

You grab your phone, surprised that so much time has passed, yet he’s right - it’s 11:33 pm, and only twenty seven minutes lie between you and the next day.

“Before you get mean,” you tease, reminiscing about your earlier conversation.

He chuckles, though his gaze narrows. “What makes you think that I’m normally mean?”

You make a show of pondering, tapping your chin with a finger. “Maybe because you don’t remember me from all of the classes we’ve had together?”

At that he laughs, shaking his head. “You really are insufferable. Maybe I was just too busy paying attention to the class, mmh?”

“Or too busy chatting up all the pretty girls, right?”

He rolls his eyes, his lips curving upwards. “Only the pretty girls,” he says, giving in to your teasing. 

“I’m glad I make the cut, then,” you proudly say.

Byeol jumps on the couch between the two of you, and San pets her as she climbs on his lap. “What makes you think you’ve made the cut?”

Your mouth falls open, yet you don’t find any snarky comeback. All you do is watch him as he bursts out laughing, and you soon follow him.

“I thought you were supposed to get mean after my birthday was over,” you say with a pout when your laughter recedes.

He shrugs. “Just giving you a taste of it in advance.”

You like this. Like the teasing, the strange familiarity. The way that you put the icing on the cake together, talking about everything and nothing while San fights Byeol to make sure she doesn’t touch the cake. It’s domestic - a scene straight out of a romance movie. You want to hold onto it, but it feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.

Or maybe it’s just that the emotions you’ve suppressed the whole day are slowly creeping back in, nostalgia clinging to your heart like a second skin.

“There you go!” San exclaims once you’ve finally finished icing the cake. “Shit, Byeol!” He quickly picks up the cat, holding her at eye level. “Stop acting feral, we have a guest over.”

She doesn’t move for a time, like she’s waiting for the perfect comedic timing, and then she lets out a long meowl that makes you snort.

“I think she’s saying that she wants cake too.”

San shakes his head no, tutting. “She’s insufferable.”

You laugh, totally agreeing with him, and then you watch him as he walks to the couch, putting her down on the blanket.

“You stay there,” he scolds her, a fist on a hip while he’s threatening her with one finger. The scene is adorable, and you’re smiling wide when he turns back towards you.

He immediately grins and that, most of all, pushes the shadows back to the recess of your mind, shedding light on the day.

“Should we eat now?” you ask.

“Hell yeah,” San answers enthusiastically as he walks back towards you. “Just grab a plate and cut yourself a piece.”

You nod, and then you do as he says, grabbing one of the small dessert plates he’s already put on the counter. Soon enough you have a large piece of cake on the plate, and you hand it to San.

“For you,” you say.

His gaze slightly widens, and he lets out a small chuckle. “No, no, take it for yourself, I can cut myself a piece.”

You narrow your gaze, plate still extended towards him. He snorts, but he does grab the plate. “Good,” you let out. “That was too big for me anyway.”

You grab a piece for yourself, and then you walk around the counter so that you can sit next to him. Byeol thankfully has chosen to stay on the couch, and you can focus on enjoying the cake without having to watch her, sharing a light conversation with San.

“Yeah, I came here when I was in middle school,” San is telling you. “I grew up in Namhae.”

You don’t know a lot about Korea, even though your grandparents originate from there. So all you do is furrow your brows. “Namhae?”

“It’s in South Korea,” he explains.

You roll your eyes, though the shit-eating grin on his lips is all worth the teasing. “I know that,” you say. “I meant I don’t know where it is in Korea.”

“In the south.” He chuckles, and then he takes the last bite of his cake. Silence surrounds you while he chews and swallows, and then he adds, “It was a cultural shock when I got here, honestly.”

You can imagine.

“You seem to have adapted well.” You vaguely motion around you. “Look where you are now.”

That earns you a sweet dimpled smile. “I did. Not at the beginning though.”

You exchange a laugh, and then you finish eating your cake, the atmosphere comfortable despite the momentary silence.

“What about you, though?” San asks once you’re done eating. “Where did you grow up?”

You tell him about growing up outside of the city - about the school yard that led to a field where flowers grew in the summer, attracting all manner of bugs. You tell him about the small park where you and Sydney used to go because it had the best swings. You tell him about Yunho, and San listens with a small smile on his lips, like he doesn’t mind listening to you blabbering on and on about things that don’t really matter anymore.

“Annnd,” you say after a moment. “That’s pretty much it.”

“Loved the details,” he says, and you can’t resist. You punch him in the shoulder, and he bursts out laughing. He rubs at the spot, adding, “I’m just teasing you.”

“Of course you are,” you mumble, cheeks burning. “Sorry about that.”

He slightly frowns. “About what?”

“Mmh,” you hum, shrugging. “About dumping my whole backstory on you like that.”

“Hey, no, don’t apologize.” He fully faces you, tilting his head to the side. “I did love listening to you. You’re really cute when you tell a story.”

It hits you deep. Right to your core, and it seems he didn’t mean to compliment you. Indeed, his cheeks turn pink, and you reckon maybe this moment is surprising him just as much as it’s surprising you.

“Oh,” you let out. You chuckle awkwardly, your whole face burning. “Thank you.”

He wets his lips, nodding once, and then he straightens before getting up. “Liked your cake?” he asks.

“I did,” you say. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” he says as he grabs your plates to go rinse them off in the sink. “Happy birthday, Y/n.”

You smile softly, heart too warm for your own good. “Thank you. Even if I feel like I’m just repeating myself now.”

He laughs at that, and it eases the tension that had filled the room. It returns to the teasing familiarity that you’ve been growing accustomed to, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It’s because I’m the best,” he teases. “Of course you have to thank me.”

You snort, looking up at the ceiling. “Here we go again.”

He laughs at that, and then he glances at the time. “Birthday’s over though.”

It is - it’s ten past midnight, and you reckon you probably should head home. You have a nine am class tomorrow after all.

“What a shame,” you dramatically say. “I was getting used to it.”

“You’re greedy, aren’t you?”

You’re not sure what he means, but it’s said with that same teasing tone, and all you can do is chuckle as you nod. “Maybe I am.”

There’s a silence while you just share a look, yet you’re too much of a coward to hold his gaze, your eyes dropping to the counter. You know you should be leaving, yet you can’t bring yourself to say it.

Not when you know the shadows and emotions from earlier are just a second away from circling back to you, and you don’t want the vulnerability just yet.

“When should we meet again to work on the project?” you ask.

He purses his lips. “I think I’m free on Wednesday. And the library should be open then if you’d rather go there.”

You glance at Byeol, who’s now curled up on the couch, fast asleep on the blanket where San put her down. “When would I see her again?”

It’s said with a small pout, and you’re painfully aware of the way San looks at it before he replies. “You can always come over.”

There’s more to his words, a truth left hanging, and he looks at you as if waiting to see if you’ll catch. And you don’t know if you should. Really don’t think it’s a good idea to get involved with San, but there’s something in the air. 

There’s been something in the air all day, be it quiet grief and nostalgia and the realization that life comes to an end one day.

You don’t want to have any regrets later on.

“Can I…” you trail off, and you feel the blush creeping on your cheeks. “Can I stay a little longer?”

You tell yourself that you need it, that you need to feel alive for a little while longer. And perhaps that’s just what San’s been doing - acting as a reminder that there’s life, and that despite the grief you know your brother is going through, life always ends up shining.

You think San understands. You’re pretty sure he does - he nods, walking back to the living room and plopping down on the couch.

“Come here, let’s watch a show.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. You get up, immediately making your way towards him. You’re forced to sit even closer than before if only so that you don’t disrupt Byeol’s peaceful slumber, and San takes it in stride, raising an arm to wrap it around your shoulder.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

As if he needs your permission.

“Yes,” you whisper.

He smiles, and then he grabs the TV remote. He maneuvers to HDMI 1, and then he opens Netflix. He hands you the remote then, letting you choose what to watch. You settle on The Office, seeking the comfort of a show you’ve watched a hundred times before already, and then you give him the remote back, offering him a sheepish smile.

“I hope you don’t mind watching this.”

“Not at all.” He leans his head back into the couch, and his arm tightens around you. “I’ve actually watched it before, though.”

“Who hasn’t?”

He chuckles as the episode starts. “I wonder what makes this show so famous,” San ponders. “I feel like it should be offensive.”

“I think that’s what people like?” you say like a question. “And Steve Carrey is hilarious.”

“That he is,” San agrees. “The show wasn’t the same after he left.”

It wasn’t at all, and you love that San agrees. Love that you end up talking for the whole episode, barely even paying attention to it. It’s just so easy - it flows naturally, like the river to the sea, and you’re surprised when the credits roll in, and you don’t think you’ve heard a single thing in the whole episode.

“Shit,” you let out. “We really can’t shut up, can we?”

That makes San laugh, a cute laugh full of dimples on his cheeks and smile lines around his eyes. It makes you look at him, like you’re proud you’re the one making him smile. He meets your gaze, and there’s a moment of silence as his laughter recedes, his gaze finding yours.

You think his eyes soften. You’re convinced they do, and then you’re leaning forward, pressing your lips on his.

Electricity shoots through your bloodstream, and if San is surprised, he doesn’t let it show. He kisses you back, his lips just as soft as you imagined they would be, and he cups your cheek before pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You sigh into the kiss, sigh into the life that it creates inside of you - the warmth, the sun, beauty like that of lingering summer, of a sunset painting clouds in gold and pink and everything in between. 

There can’t be shadows when the sun shines like this.

You tilt your head to the side, deepening the kiss. San follows your lead, his tongue teasing your lower lip, and you let him in. Taste him, tease his tongue with yours. His arm around your shoulder pulls you in closer as one of your hands lands on his thigh, and then you reach a little higher, putting it on his stomach instead.

His abs are rock hard under your palm, and you sigh appreciatively.

The kiss lasts for its small eternity, your thoughts scattering like dust in the wind as San’s hand gently grabs your wrist to pull you on top of him. You don’t resist, and you reckon you were expecting it.

Expecting to find yourself perched on the bulge in his pants, and this time your sigh turns breathy, more like a moan than anything.

It unleashes something in the two of you. San’s hands find your waist, and he makes you grind on him while yours cradle his face before moving to the back of his head, keeping him from pulling away.

You feel warm, hot, and nothing else matters than the way he sucks on your lower lip, slightly biting at it.

“Shit,” you curse against his lips.

He immediately leans away from the kiss, fighting against your grip before you loosen it. “Everything okay?” he asks.

He’s breathless. He’s breathless, his chest rapidly going up and down, and you struggle to get oxygen in your lungs again as you sit there, his dick pushing against you despite the fabric between you.

“Yeah,” you let out. “I…” you trail off, unable to break eye contact despite the redness flushing your cheeks. “Do you want to… to stop?”

You don’t know why you’re stuttering, why you’re feeling shy all of a sudden. He’s hardly your first, yet it feels different.

Perhaps because of the whole circumstances surrounding this moment in time.

“If you want to,” he murmurs. He takes a deep breath. “I’m down to keep going, but I’m aware it might be weird for you considering…”

You silence him with another languid kiss, and his grip tightens on your waist. You grind into him again, and he grunts, his dick twitching in his pants. And even though you want more, you can’t bring yourself to disconnect from his lips. Not when he kisses you so damn well, every swipe of his tongue emptying your brain until there’s just you and him and that whiskey and vanilla scent of his.

It smells of sweet addiction, and for tonight, you want to revel in it. Want to feel alive, want to remind yourself that you are alive.

Maybe that’s why you pull away, breathing raggedly, to ask, “Can I suck your dick?”

San gulps. “Shouldn’t I be the one pleasing you?” 

You furrow your brows, wetting your lips. “Why do you think sucking your dick won’t please me?”

This time he wets his lips, and a smirk slowly takes over his features. “You want it that bad?” He doesn’t give you time to answer, instead leaning forward to capture your lips into another embrace, and you roll your hips. He grunts, pulling away. “By all means,” he says, his voice low and husky. “I want to see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

You bite at your lower lip, circling your hips one last time, just so that you can see the way his mouth falls open, a pleasured frown taking over his face. And it feels good, far too good, as his dick rubs on your core, on your clit, shooting lightning along your nerves.

Once you’ve had enough, you pull away, kneeling on the floor between his legs. You run your hands along his thighs, appreciating the strength of them, while he just watches you through half-lidded eyes, his chest still moving fast as he keeps on breathing raggedly. Your eyes hold his gaze for a few more seconds before they drop to the imprint of his dick, and you gulp.

He’s big. That much you can tell despite the clothing, and when you run a hand along his length, you know he’ll hurt your jaw. Yet the way he arches when you touch him makes you want to please him, makes you want to hear the kind of sounds he’ll make when you’ll be choking on him, and you know you won’t stop.

“Can I take your pants off?” you ask, your eyes trailing back to his face.

“Let me help.”

He bends down, immediately pulling his pants off, though he leaves his boxers on. They’re tight, revealing even more of his dick, and you run your hand on his length again when his sweatpants are finally off.

“You took a shower today?” you ask as you crawl a little closer.

“Huh?” he lets out.

You cock an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side as you wait for an answer.

“Yeah,” he adds. “Yeah, I took a shower after the gym.”

You wet your lips. “Good boy.”

And then you bend forward, licking at his tip through the fabric of his boxers. You taste the salty precum that’s already stained the fabric, and you immediately want more. So you pull his boxers down enough to free his dick before wrapping a hand around his base.

His dick sits heavy in your hand, and it’s flushed with arousal, darker than the rest of his body. The head is stained red, looking ready to explode, and veins run up and down his dick, inviting your tongue. Most of all, he really is large despite not being too long, and you lose some of your confidence.

How are you even supposed to fit him in your mouth?

“Shit,” you let out.

“Mmmh?”

You meet his gaze for a few seconds before looking down at his dick. Before you reply, you slowly stroke him up and down, your tongue teasing his slit once.

“You’re so big,” you praise.

“Yeah?” He pushes your hair away from your face, holding it in a makeshift ponytail. “Don’t worry, baby. You can take it.”

It undoes you. It’s the way he says the word, with so much praise, yet so much barely concealed lust.

You want to please this man, and you won’t stop until he’s had his fill of your mouth.

You lean forward, swirling your tongue around the tip of his dick while holding eye contact. He doesn’t blink, only grunts lowly, his mouth falling open when you flatten your tongue and tap his dick on it.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath.

“How do you like it?” you ask, and you spit on his dick, using your saliva as lube so that you can jerk him off faster.

“I like it in your mouth,” he says. “Be nice for me, yeah?”

You tilt your head to the side, smirking. “Or what?”

You suck on his tip once, and his hips lift from the couch, seeking for more friction, yet you don’t grant it to him.

“You’re such a fucking brat.” It’s whiny, but the way his dick twitches in your hand tells you he likes it.

You tease his frenulum with your tongue. “Am I?”

His lips stretch in a thin line as he holds your gaze, and he curses, looking away. “Thought you wanted to suck my dick.”

“Oh, I definitely do,” you say. 

You dive in, wrapping your lips around him, taking as much of him in as you possibly can. But then you pull all the way out, stroking him fast instead, and San grunts in frustration.

“What are you trying to do?” he asks, and he lets out a small moan as you take him in your mouth again, sucking on his tip as your tongue teases his shaft.

You think the moan rewires your brain. Because it unleashes you, and you start bobbing your head up and down, your hand following the motion, and soon San starts guiding your head, his hips moving up to meet you.

It’s no wonder you choke on him, and he lets you pull out just long enough for you to take a breath, and then you’re back on his dick, sloppily sucking him dry. You’re drooling, his taste inebriating, and you feel it on the back of your hand, dripping down to his balls. 

It’s only when you get that thought that you pull away so that you can lick down his dick, pressing a kiss on one of his balls. He fucks into your hand, moaning again, and you look up to see that he’s thrown his head back on the couch, the tall column of his neck the only thing visible from where you’re kneeling between his legs.

“Do you want me to suck on your balls too?” you ask.

“Fuck, Y/n,” is all he answers, and so you lick a large stripe between his balls, more tentative than anything else. That snaps him back to reality and he leans forward, cursing loudly. “Just…” He takes a deep breath. “Just be careful, they’re really sensitive.”

You nod, and you gently lick at them this time, before going back up his shaft to swirl your tongue around his tip.

And then you sit back on your heels and ask, “Do you want to fuck my mouth?”

He wets his lips. “I kind of just want to fuck you.”

You shake your head no, sucking on his tip again. The heady taste of his precum coats your mouth, but you want more.

You think you’ll always want more with him.

“Just my mouth,” you say after. “I don’t want to have sex right now.”

That’s a big fat lie if you’ve ever said one - you just don’t want to know how good he can make you feel, not when you know you can’t do this again.

If he looks disappointed he doesn’t say. All he does is nod, and then he says, “Move back.”

You do, allowing him to get up. He’s huge like this, towering over you as he looks down at you, and he gently cups your cheeks. You open your mouth, tongue flat to allow him space.

“Fuck,” he curses again. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Wreck me, San.”

He doesn’t need you to say more. Indeed, he grabs his dick, taps it on your tongue as you just patiently wait there, your hands on your thighs. You crave to touch him, but something about the way he’s looking down at you tells you he likes to have his control, likes to be the one seeking his own pleasure.

And you want him to use you. Want him to come down your throat.

“Stop me if it’s too much, okay?” he says as he rests the tip of his dick on your tongue.

You lick at his slit. “Okay.”

“Fuck.”

His curse is all he says before slowly pushing in. Your jaw is stretched, eyes watering when he hits the back of your throat, and then he’s slowly pulling out, eyes fixated on the place where his dick disappears inside of your mouth. He’s so large you know he has to feel your teeth a little, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Maybe because you’re trying to use your lips to not hurt him, and it seems the sensation is driving him insane. Because the next time he pushes in, he’s faster, a hard thrust that you answer with a moan, and then he fully loses it, shutting his eyes tightly. 

San establishes a quick rhythm, grunting and groaning as he fucks your mouth, drool soon covering your chin. He tastes good, something heady, and the sounds he makes are music to your ear. He’s impossibly hard, and you think of how he’d feel inside of you.

You’d see stars, that much you’re sure of.

“Fuck, Y/n,” San says. “Your mouth feels so good.”

You moan, and he looks down at you. His cheeks and neck are reddened, his hair falling in front of his eyes, but you still feel his gaze piercing through yours, so much so that you feel naked kneeling there.

And maybe you are, in a much more important way than the physical.

“I think I’ll be able to come,” he says, and he pulls out, slowly jerking himself off. “Where do you want me to come?”

You lean forward, sucking on his tip. “In my mouth?”

It seems he was still holding back. Indeed, his gaze goes feral, lustful, and you prepare yourself as he grips your hair in a makeshift ponytail again, his other hand landing on the side of your head. And then he smirks and says, “Open up for me, baby.”

You do. You fucking do, unable to be bratty anymore. Not when he’s looking at you like that, and especially not as you crave him already.

He doesn’t disappoint. San pushes inside of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat so hard you choke on his dick. Your eyes water, a tear slipping free, and he dries it carelessly before fucking into your mouth again.

This time, you hold in the gag reflex, focusing on flattening your tongue, and then dragging it on his dick as he moves in and out. San moans, and you echo it. He pulls on your hair, hard, and you sit back on your heels, a string of spit connecting your lips to his dick. It breaks when he taps his dick on your cheek, and you just keep on looking at him, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

“I gotta admit,” he says, and he strokes his dick up and down. “I have trouble coming while standing. Do you mind going to the bed?”

There’s something cute about the way he asks, and you smile, chuckling. “Sure.”

Your voice is croaky from his dick fucking your throat, yet San doesn’t mention it, only smiles down at you before patting your cheek.

“Let’s go.”

He holds a hand out for you to take, and then he pulls you up to your feet. You wince - your knees hurt more than you were realizing - and San chuckles before gently leading you to his bedroom.

And the bedroom is simple, consisting of just an unmade bed with dark sheets, a small bedside table, and an open door that leads to a walk-in closet. San lets go of your hand, and then he plops down on the bed amongst the sheets, his eyes on you.

“Think you can suck me and make me come?” he says, a smirk on his lips.

So maybe he doesn’t need to be in control to come after all.

You move closer, kneeling on the bed next to him. San watches you as you run a finger on his abs, and then you hook it under the hem of his shirt, pulling up.

“Take this off,” you say.

He wets his lips. “And why should I? You’re still fully dressed.”

You cock an eyebrow, and then you take your shirt off, throwing it to the side. San’s gaze widens before dropping to your breasts, and you unclasp your bra, also taking it off. You put it on his abs, and then your hands return to your breasts. You pinch your nipples, making sure they’re all perked prettily, and then you say, “Better?”

“Much better,” he says, voice so low it sounds like a growl. “Can I touch you?”

He makes to sit up, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “No.”

He groans in frustration, yet lies back down, awaiting your next move.

“Tonight is about me making you come,” you add after. “I don’t want you to distract me.”

He takes a shaky breath in when you run your finger along his sensitive dick. You bite at your lower lip, trying to hold a smirk in, but it’s to no avail.

“Then get to work again, baby,” he says. “Better make me come.”

You bend down, blowing a breath on the tip of his dick. “Yeah?”

He nods, cursing underneath his breath, but then you dive in, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out a small, pleasured moan. And though your jaw is sore, you suck him hard, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. It’s easier to hold the gag reflex in when you’re in control, so you go up and down sloppily, your spit coating his dick thoroughly. 

San soon starts to groan louder, the sounds turning into breathy moans that have you soaking through your panties. It’s hot, sinful, and for a moment, you wish you could just sleep with him.

Wish he wasn’t your partner in that stupid project so that you could just indulge.

But he is, and he’s gripping your hair, guiding your movements.

“Shit, I’m going to come soon,” he grits through his teeth, and you look up to see his throat again, the flushed skin of his neck beautiful.

You moan, and his dick twitches once before his hands move to the side of your face. He thrusts up twice before stilling, and the taste of his cum fills your mouth as he comes deep in your throat.

You suck him through his high, suck him dry, only stopping when he pulls on your hair gently. You let go of his dick with a satisfying plop, sitting back on your heels.

There’s a moment of silence only interrupted by San’s heavy breathing, and all you do is watch him as he lies there, his eyes closed. When his eyelids finally flutter open, San meets your gaze, letting out a disbelieved laugh as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Holy shit,” he lets out.

You scrunch up your nose, holding a shy smile in. “You liked it?”

He chuckles again, tilting his head to the side. “I think you just sucked my soul out of my body.”

You laugh, your cheeks burning as he grabs your hand to pull you closer. You understand what he wants as he scooches over to make space for you, and you lie down next to him, laying your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you.

“I’m glad you liked it,” you whisper, suddenly shy at his proximity. 

Not that he wasn’t close when he was deep in your throat, but this feels different, more intimate, vulnerable.

It’s the kind of thing you don’t usually do.

“Of course,” he says, and then he sighs in contentment. “I gotta admit this is the first time a girl has ever made me come by sucking me.” He chuckles, and it’s a low rumble in his chest, almost like the purr of a cat. “So yeah, I loved it.”

“No way!” you let out, pushing m up on an elbow to look at him. “I don’t believe that.”

He cups your cheek, then just gently pats it. “Well, it’s true.”

“Don’t you… sleep around a lot?”

He must not like your words. He frowns slightly, eyes narrowing, and his hand falls away from your cheek. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Sorry,” you immediately apologize. “I did not mean it in a bad way at all.” You purse your lips, looking between his two eyes. His features soften slightly, but there’s still a wary edge to them, and you hate it. “It’s just that I didn’t think I was that good?”

You say it like a question, because it frankly is. You’ve had your share of partners as well in the past - an ex-boyfriend, and then a line of ephemeral relationships that didn’t last more than a few weeks to a few months.

It’s the college experience after all, isn’t it?

“Are you getting insecure on me?” San asks, and his features finally earn that teasing sparkle from earlier. “Confidence looks better on you, Y/n.”

You blush. You can’t help it - there’s something in the way he’s looking at you right now, holding your gaze, that makes you feel incredibly vulnerable.

You feel too seen.

“My bad, then,” you mutter, and you put your head back on his shoulder if only so that you don’t have to look him in the eyes anymore. “I know I’m the best.”

He snorts, and his arm momentarily tightens around you. The silence prolongs for a moment, and you just breathe in time with him, listening to the beats of his heart. He eventually sighs, shifting until he’s on his side, facing you.

It brings your face right in his chest, and the scent of him engulfs you deeper, like a blanket wrapping around you.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you feel good too?” he asks in a whisper.

You nod against him. “I probably should just go home for real, now.”

He makes a sound that you can only interpret as a groan. It’s cute, endearing, and at the opposite of what you’d imagined Choi San would be like.

“Why don’t you spend the night?” he suggests. “It’s getting pretty late.”

You wince. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Even if I sleep on the couch?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Even if you sleep on the couch,” you say. “We have a morning class tomorrow.”

“We?” he says, and you hear the smirk in his voice. It makes you want to roll your eyes, yet you’re too comfortable right now to truly be annoyed.

“Yes, dumbass,” you answer. “We.”

“I have a friend that records all the classes,” he reveals. “I could get you the recording and then you could stay and we could sleep in.”

It’s weird - does he really want you to stay that bad?

“Thank you for suggesting it, but I’d rather just go home and go to class tomorrow,” you say. “Another time, maybe?”

He’s pouting. You know he is, partly because he pulls his head back enough to meet your gaze. “That’s boring.”

You chuckle, a little embarrassed. You don’t even know why you are. You just sucked his dick like there was no tomorrow, yet you feel like you need to flee the scene, like maybe a crime was committed.

You wonder, is it a crime to hook up with your project partner? Surely it has to be.

“Well then, call me boring, Choi San.”

He looks like he’s considering it, but then he says, “Nah. I get it, today must have been a wild day for you.”

It… was. You’re glad he understands, even though some part of you does want to stay over. It’s mostly for that reason that you make your way to the door after having grabbed your stuff, and San follows you, his grey joggers finally back on.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say, offering him a small smile.

He smirks. “I feel like I should be the one to say thank you.”

“I meant for the cake.” You roll your eyes as you speak, and San just laughs cutely. “And for actually being a decent project partner.”

He narrows his gaze. “What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t know,” you say, and you chuckle. “I think I’m just getting really tired.”

He nods in understanding, and then looks behind himself. “Do you want to say goodbye to Byeol before you leave?”

“Yes please!”

You must be beaming because San grins, laughing lightly as he turns around to seek out the cat. He comes back with her, her tail swishing in the air, and you gently pet her, cooing at her like you would to a baby. San lets you do it, his smile everlasting, and when you’re finally ready, you look up to meet his gaze.

He’s close, and for a moment, you want to kiss him again. Want to stay, want to return to his bed so that he can hold you in his arms. The emotion is so strong you have to take a step back, and you awkwardly clear your throat, your gaze dropping to the ground.

“So,” you let out.

You don’t find anything else to say, and San saves you by saying, “Do you want to meet again on Wednesday to work on the project some more?”

“Yes.” You nod, relieved he found something to say.

Relieved he wants to meet again.

“Yes, let’s meet at the library,” you add. “Just to keep things…” you trail off, chuckling awkwardly.

“Are you afraid of what’ll happen if we’re left alone again?” he asks teasingly.

“Gosh, San.” You chuckle awkwardly. “You’re annoying.”

“I made you cake!”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re annoying.”

He pouts. “You’re mean.”

You look up to the ceiling, but it’s to no avail - there’s no salvation on San’s ceiling.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe that’s why I sucked your dick.”

He bursts out laughing, and it’s a little loud, so much so that he startles Byeol and she jumps out of his arms before trotting away.

“Right,” he says after having watched Byeol leaving. 

There’s another pause in the conversation, and it slowly fills with tension as you once more just share a look that seems to hold so many words unsaid you can feel their weight on your shoulders. It brings a light blush to your cheeks, and you look away, pulling at some dry skin on your lower lip.

“So I’ll see you on Wednesday?” you say.

He nods. “Yes. But also in class before then.”

“Alright then, Choi San. I’ll see you in class.”

He offers you a gentle smile, one that reminds you of why you kissed him initially - you wanted to feel alive, and you think his smile carries life, warmth, breathing vitality to your soul. It chases away the shadows from the memorial earlier today, and reminds you that you’re breathing. That your heart is beating, and that your neurons carry little sparks of electricity to make you into the full, functioning human that you are.

It’s comforting, reassuring, and you can’t help but echo the smile.

Later that night, when you’re finally in bed, you can still feel the ghost of that smile on your lips, and you fall asleep to the memory of Choi San’s lips on yours.

Teaser | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

hihihihi i guarantee that it is a slow burn lmaooo trust me <3 please let me know what you guys think!:)

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2025. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[applesaucesims]

After a while of laying awake with his thoughts, Louis had only just fallen asleep, when he heard the faint melody from "Waltz of the Snowflakes." Of course, he immediately knew whom he was going to find sitting on his desk. He had not dreamt of dancing with his nutcracker in a while, especially since taking real ballet classes, and he was a little confused why he'd appear again now. There was no need for Sammy to teach him anything that he could learn from his teachers anyway.

The mention of his teachers was immediately regretted, when Sammy suddenly disappeared in a shimmering cloud, instead appearing right next to Louis - but looking and sounding just like Miss Lambert. Louis was barely able to stutter a few words, when the figure next to him disappeared again, appearing in front of him as Mr Booth, gently caressing his face.

The thoughts were racing in circles inside Louis's brain. Only when he covered his eyes, letting out a quiet mix between a scream and a groan, could he finally utter some coherent words again. Sammy seemed to think his humiliation was the funniest thing in the world, as he could hardly stop laughing at him. However, he was quick to make up for it, spinning the topic back to the dance he promised to begin with. And dance they did.

[TRANSCRIPT]

Sammy: *humming Waltz of the Snowflakes (from the Nutcracker)*

Louis: *yawns* "Sammy?"

Sammy: "That's me."

Louis: "What are you doing here?"

Sammy: "I'm here to teach you dancing, dummy!"

Louis: "You know I've got teachers for that now, right?"

Sammy: "Is that so? My mistake."

Sammy/Renée: "You'd prefer someone more... authoritative?"

Louis: "Uhm, I-"

Sammy/Albert: "Or perhaps someone... stronger?"

Louis: "M-maybe-"

Louis: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

Louis: "Why are you doing this!?"

Sammy: *laughs* "You should see your face! That's true entertainment!"

Louis: "I think it's pronounced 'embarrassment.'"

Sammy: "Ah, don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

Louis: "It's not like you can tell anyone."

Sammy: "True, but I can dance!"

Louis: *laughs* "You still want to?"

Sammy: "Of course! That's what I'm here for, isn't it? Just like old times?"

Louis: "Well, almost. I've had some training now!"

Sammy: "Well then? Let's see what you've got!"

[akiranzee]

Hi there! Can I request Akaza x Fem! Demon Slayer? 

When Y/N sees Rengoku fighting an upper class demon she heads over to help him and when Akaza sees Y/N, she reminded him of his past deceased wife, Koyuki. Also when Y/N rejects Akaza’s offer of becoming a demon, Akaza ends up winning the fight against Y/N and kidnaps her.

Thank you!!!!!!<333

❤️‍🩹 • ° ` — “LOVE? IS THIS?”

-> PAIRINGS: Akaza x f!Demon Slayer!Y/n -> SUMMARY: Love could sometimes go wrong. -> WORD COUNT: 1.4k+ -> CONTAINS: angst (?), stockholm syndrome, kidnapping, mentions of blood, akaza is ooc!, rengoku’s alive, violence, kissing, dead person, fighting, swearing, & akaza is 200 while reader is 27. -> A/N: HI THERE!! IM RLLY SORRY FOR NOT DOING UR REQUEST FOR SUCH A LONG PERIOD OF TIME😭😭. i saw ur request abt this again it made me feel guilty

-------------Loading…------------

------------Complete!------------

Running toward the sounds, voices, and clashing of swords, as you reached the mugen train, was the first thing you ever did.

You just so happened to be in the mugen train station, after all.

As you reached the distant forest, you happen to see multiple familiar faces, mainly; Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Nezuko.

The bright burning fire that lit in front of all of you only hinted you that, Rengoku was fighting a demon. Not just any demon, but one of the higher ranking ones.

You wanted to back him up, but you can’t see a hole to insert into. It all happened so fast, the fire, the clashes, all hindered your plan of saving Rengoku.

When Tanjiro pleaded you to save Rengoku, you thought of the worst thing that could happen; you’d be too late to do so.

But Rengoku was your close comrade, one that you could only consider tolerable in all of the hashiras. Rengoku was always there to comfort you, protect you, or save you wherever you were. He was like a big brother you never had.

That’s why, you’ll never allow such a thing to happen to him.

A fog covered the surroundings, one that your breathing technique had mastered, completely putting an end at the endless fight Rengoku and the demon had.

As your sword neared the demon’s neck, a bright flash hovered over your eyes, causing a great wonder in your mind. Suddenly, as your eyes dolted open, you wondered where your sword went, hoping the demon didn’t catch it.

But alas, it was in his hand. You signaled Rengoku to do something, perhaps to ambush, but he was too weak and is clutching his side already. He wanted to, but his body wanted and needed to rest.

However, Akaza’s eyes sparked and lit up when he saw your sword’s feature, perhaps because of the small snowflakes attached to the rain-guard of the sword, one that he does not usually see in other slayers, and one that is too familiar, its grip too is a royal yellow, whilst its body is none but a mesmerizing pink. It seemed to have reminded him of something, but beknownst, he is a demon after all, one who could not recollect any of his memories of the past.

But, his eyes lit up brighter, and widened bigger, when he saw your face. Ah, he remembers now, but only vaguely. The pink silk you are wearing — embroidered by beautiful snowflakes on the bottom of your kimono, having a unique hairstyle, that he can not even guess if your hair is to be presumed as long, or short. Then, a snowflake hairpin that matches just about you and your sword, and a royal yellow comb that keeps your bangs up.

Simply put — everything about you reminds him of a certain someone. I would have already flawed honesty if I were to tell you that his jaw did not drop even the slightest. Even the spectators had shocked themselves to what they have witnessed — a demon hesitating to kill someone.

Then, Akaza suddenly chuckled, his laughter echoing through the battleground, as he saw the undying determination burning in your eyes. “Ah... how would you say becoming a demon, hmm? Your efforts would not go to waste unlike this one.” You frowned at that, ready to prove him wrong, “no! All you demons are selfishly unkind, I would never be a part of your kin!”

You quit looking at his eyes, that gave away half of all the emotions he has been keeping, and looked at your sword in his grip instead. As you tried to think of all the realistic, and unrealistic ways to steal your sword from his grasp, all were put to vain as he so easily let go of your sword and threw it right in front of you. You swear you could hear him click his tongue, as he then said, “fine. Have it your way.” He beckoned you to come closer — to charge right at him, his once sinister and obnoxious smile is not found again, rather, a gentle, teasing, and playful smile had been replaced.

You would be lying if you didn’t find him handsome for a few moments there, but it is already perceived as a sin to even compliment a demon.

Lest to say, that all the damage you have dealt taking over Rengoku’s place and fighting in his stead nonstop was not from the demon, but fall damage you had impacted on yourself.

He truly was one unpredictable demon — he had his own way of thinking through things, maybe even smarter than you are — but not once, did he try advancing and taking advantage when you fall over and your guard lower when doing so.

It seems as if he is enjoying this little encounter way too much, that confusion has arisen amongst the spectators and witnesses, especially Tanjiro, Rengoku, and the others.

His soft laughter ringing in your ears was a nice melody, his gentle smile shining in front of you, and his tender hands touching you physically whenever he had the chance. But all of those were soft and gentle, making you have second thoughts if he was really the demon you were up against just minutes ago.

It had made your heart swirl, had made your stomach churn, had made you feel as if this was not a fight at all.

But, in the end, he won. You had stumbled on your ass once again, but this time, it hurt really bad for you had a hard time standing up.

But, this encounter is nearly ending, as the sun is setting. You took note of that, and felt quite a pang when you were about to kill him; or if he would run away once noticing it. But a demon slayer and a demon can never be together.

That’s why, as your role in this world, you jumped on a high tree and charged at him, having wished it would be the last, and final time, as you closed your eyes, hoping for your victory.

But no — it all happened so fast, as you felt the heat of the sun radiate toward you, a strong, muscular arm had wrapped around your waist, as the winds have lost control and slithered their cold on every single part of you.

Slowly, you opened your eyes only to see that the place you had battled on was far away, as it shrunk smaller and smaller on your vision, as you felt the winds were up against you, its strong current had made your hair fly to places, even when the royal yellow comb was still held intact on your hair. Yet, not once has something wavered.

You still felt the running, and the tight grip an arm has around your waist, you turned to look back, and see who had captured you, but Tanjiro called out suddenly, “AKAZAAA!!! You coward! Hand Y/n back to us!!!” Then, he threw his sword on Akaza’s leg, making him stumble, but he still stood up and continued to run, until you could no longer see Tanjiro, the battlefield, and your sword that is left alone, stabbed to the ground.

For some reason, you had felt dizzy, your mind swirling hazily, as your vision blurred, while letting Akaza only take you away to wherever, as darkness followed and consumed the both of you, to the dark forest.

~~~~~

The hazy feeling was still around, but slowly it died out. As you slowly opened your eyes, it had caused your mind to swirl and hurt once more, but it cleared out as you see the darkness in front of you.

You slowly stood up and looked around, only to find out you were laying on a soft mattress laid down on the floor, the only light within the dark room is the flickering bulb.

As you reached out for the door, someone had already opened it — Akaza. It took you by shock, but you had already caught on that he was your captor. Although, you really didn’t expect him to look so... tired.

He had sweat amongst his forehead, dripping to his jaw, neck, and body... Ah shit, he was completely half naked.

Flustered, you turned away, “What- where did you take me?” clearing your throat, as you tried to start a topic.

“Somewhere.” Nonchalantly, he answered as he dragged you towards the soft mattress, causing you to fall on your ass, but this time, it didn’t hurt as much, as afterall, the mattress is soft enough.

“You are not to leave this room, ever.” Chills ran down your spine as he pointed and glared at you, his pale blue eyes glowing within the dark room.

But that didn’t stop you.

“What? Why not...? I-If you think I am afraid because I have no sword, then you’re dead wrong.” On a fighting stance you stood, but shivers and quivers have failed you. You were nothing more than food to him without your sword, after all.

Akaza merely chuckled, his fangs brightly present as the light rested on his face, slightly flickering.

It had feared you, but it was obvious he could not do such a thing such as to harm you.

“Are you sure? I’m impressed by your bravery, but your face gives it all away.. how cute..” He laughed more, but confusions had only filled your mind.

“You are to stay here forever, with me, because you are meant to be mine.” Akaza’s playful smile had turned into a serious frown, “you were always meant to be mine, Y/n. No matter what life this may be, but you had always been mine.”

“What... do you mean?” It had left you with nothing but a gaped mouth.

“Koyuki... I know that it is you.” Akaza smiled gently, and caressed your cheek.

Suddenly though, you slapped his hand away, “you’re crazy!”

“...Call me that, but I do not care. You are mine, you are my Koyuki.” Fear had flowed through your veins as he kept repeating the same, unknown name again and again.

“Who... the fuck is Koyuki?” You backed away, enough to prepare to defend yourself for any upcoming blow.

“My wife. My darling. You.” Akaza continued to speak in riddles, but you had probably solved it.

Ah... this demon had a wife when he was human, huh? But... how? How could he have remembered it? How could he have remembered who his wife was, or his memories of her, that led him to think you and his wife were the same person?

“I... I am not this Koyuki nor wife you think of...” You hesitated unknowingly for a bit, but Akaza cut you off, “No! You are her! I know it! You have the same hair, the same face, the same smile, the same eyes, the same voice — the same warmth that I could all remember! You can’t just tell me you aren’t her!”

God, he was desperate. A demon who had longed for a human, is it now? You stopped and remained frozen for a moment, knowing and perhaps understanding how he had felt after long, painful years of unknowing yearning.

Perhaps it was because you felt sorry for him, that he had to be taken away from his humane life, that he had turned into this frightening, man-eating demon. Or perhaps it was because of the sadness that filled his voice? The sadness that he didn’t even know he was long hiding. Or could it be because... of the tears that had wetted his cheeks, that had dripped and flowed down, that had revealed his entire and pure being?

To be honest, you felt sorry. Really sorry. Because you were too, no stranger to the emotion called sadness. You had felt it again and again, as if an unstoppable loop. Pity had filled and won over you. But he was an enemy, more so — he can kill you anytime, maybe even now.

Trust, a fragile thing to ever exist. But what has this life led to? Wasn’t it just the same as demons? Continuous killing and surviving, yet the only difference is one saves, and one harms. You only live to wake up and continue killing these demons anyway, and your seek of revenge against the demon king is merely impossible. So what difference would it make in your life to fill the heart of the human still remaining within this demon for centuries old?

Akaza had already fallen, bent down to the ground helplessly crying. Ah... perhaps he had been reminded again, of the gruesome figure he had to witness.

Pain and pity completely filled you, as you cupped his cheeks, “I will stay with you.”

★ • ° ` — BONUS:

“Wait- don’t- I promise I won’t do it anymore-! AAAAAHHH!!!” Tears and yells of horror had filled the dark room, as blood had flowed out of the now lifeless body.

“Akaza, you eat so... messy.” You looked away from the scene, as Akaza only chuckled and stood up, “I think this one’s enough to fill me up for a whole week.” licking his lips and fingers, as he walked towards you.

“A- no! Don‘t even-!” You backed away as Akaza continued to walk to you with open arms, with a playful grin in his face.

God, fuck. His slimy and sticky arms wrap around you, his hug icky but warm.

“I missed you. Where’ve you been?” His wet, sticky, bloody lips attached itself to your scalp as your face filled with terror and disgust.

“A- ew ew EW EW EW!!!” You pushed him off as his loud laughter had filled the dark room and your ears, musing over your squirming.

As the laughter died out, he wiped his hand on some cloth laying around, and grabbed your hands to help you up. “Let’s take a bath, hmm?”

~~~~~

“Akaza you big shit.” Dread filled your face as he splashed soap-filled water on your face, as he only laughed and laughed. The wooden hot tub was shaking from how much Akaza was moving too much, probably because you decided to splash some back at him.

As the laughter died out, his now clean lips had attached itself to yours, completely hovering your soft, plush ones.

It had taken you aback for a second, but you returned his soft, gentle affection. Although, you can’t help but wonder.. is this alright?

Having fun and affectionate with a demon.. no more or less the enemy of mankind, and you are a human. Would it be okay to say that you’re content and satisfied with this life than the life you had lived on before? Where you kill evil humans and feed them to him? Or the life in which you kill demons and help mankind, whether bad or good?

This was a forbidden romance, and no one can change it, not even if the world stops turning.

You pulled away from the kiss, the so little humanity in you questioned you once more, if should you really be having fun with a demon, the so very kind of those that had killed the beloveds of your comrades.

“I love you, Koyu- Y/n.” After all, he sees you as no more than the deceased wife he had always, and forever loved.

a/n: hes so out of characterrrRRRRRRR

[oceanofsinners]

“They love me, they love me not.”

Yan!Pervy cupid x gn innocent succubi/incubi reader ♥︎

[mdni, or do, i don't care enough to block y'all tbh. NSFW, first time in a while writing it so apologies ack. tw/cw: mentions of violence, blood, religious stuff kinda. lmk if i have to add smth else too! also?? sorry for disappearing i got stuck in the hospital, ouchies!! also holy fuck this is 2.k words ive never wrote that much...]

Nova wasn't...normal. Well, to be fair, it wasn't their fault he was created this way. It was Father’s fault.

 

Being born a Cupid, but being unable to feel most emotions, or even love. How ridiculous. Pathetic, even. Compared to their brothers and sisters, he was useless.

 

They grew up alone and isolated, no one wanted a Cherub whose expression was always bored. No one wanted a Cherub who never wanted to play with the others or found joy in small things. 

 

He grew up in one of the few orphanages in Paradise, some human souls for foster parents who weren't able to have kids themselves, happy to have any.

 

Angels were meant to be cheerful and optimistic, they were neither. Many thought he'd grow up to be a Guardian Angel or an Archangel. 

 

Never a Cupid. Especially a Love Cupid. Maybe a Heartbreak Cupid, even Erotic Love Cupid, but Love? They didn't even truly understand what the word meant. Or so everyone thought. 

 

Angels were meant to be non-judgemental. Meant to be “kind” and believe in everyone. Angel’s are not. Angels are just as judgemental, perhaps even more than humans. 

 

The other Cupids always watched him in disdain when they were training, he always dragged their class down, being worse at it than most of the others.

 

But then, in high school, something changed. See, Angels and Demons typically don't like each other. 

 

Angels hate Demons for falling, and Demons hate the lies Angels say. But in the end, they are one and the same. 

 

Only one’s halo is broken, the other’s is perfectly fine. No, not halo, horns. If there was one thing special about Nova, it was their “halo“, or horns. 

 

They were a beautiful baby pink color that matched the pearly white hair that reached his shoulders, with pretty gold and bright pink streaks, that made their purple eyes pop. 

 

Even though Nova couldn't feel anything, he was beautiful. Freckles were made in the forms of constellations scattered over brown skin, and white eyelashes that looked like snowflakes. 

 

They were beautiful. Ethereal. An Angel, through and through. He never imagined they'd fall willingly, even hating the thought. 

 

But, maybe for one person, he would. That person is YOU. 

 

The Demons and Angels made an agreement, there was an academy built, for both Angels and Demons of all ranks and backgrounds, a sort of truce.

 

Nova was one of the angels chosen, amongst many others. They didn't care about it, just wanting it to be done already. To get the embarrassment over. 

 

Days turned into weeks of staying in the shadows, going to boring classes, eating lunch in empty classrooms, studying all night, and repeat. 

 

It was boring, but it's not like Nova had anything he could do about it. Another day of stupid school, of stupid wars between haughty Angels and Demons who liked fighting. 

 

Except this time, Nova got caught in the crossfire. Cuts covered their skin, golden blood leaking down and ruining his beautiful clothes.

 

One of the Demons had them pushed up against a wall, claws to his throat, and they stood there blank gaze. Nova raised a brow as the Demon got pushed, and went to walk away. 

 

Then YOU came. You seemed confused at the fight, trying to make peace despite it being fruitless. You paused at the sight of him, before gasping and quickly running over. 

 

“Ah, you're bleeding! Gosh, I told these dummies to stop fighting, they just don't listen!” You frowned, trying to appear upset but you just looked like a kicked puppy with a pout. 

 

You pulled them off to the side, reaching inside a black messenger back absolutely covered in cutesy stickers and pins from different bands. 

 

Nova took the time to look at you, really look at you. It was strange. Why was his heart beating so fast? Wings fluffing up? You were beautiful. One of the prettiest Demons they’d ever seen. 

 

That's what clued him into what you were, an Incubus or Succubus. Really, there was no difference between the two except for their behavior. Incubus tended to be more assertive, and Succubus more passive. 

 

Before Nova could think about anything else, you pulled a first aid kit out, opened it up, and pulled a pack of bandaids out. 

 

You started disinfecting their wounds, before putting those cute, colored bandaids on each wound.

 

Nova looks silly like this, mostly black, Gothic ensemble, even with his pastel eyes and horns, they still looked less like an Angel and more like a Demon. 

 

And there you were, broken halo turned into a pair of horns, dressed in cutesy clothes, putting brightly colored bandaids on the mean-looking Cupid. 

 

With every fleeting touch, Nova felt embers light under his skin, his cheeks warming even further. ‘...What...What is this feeling? I don't...’

 

Before Nova even realized it, they were leaning even further into your cold, almost dead touch. You paused, before giggling and roping your arms around his shoulders. 

 

“Wow! You're super friendly, I like you, your hair too, it's super duper long! What's your name?” You asked, playing with his long hair, curling it around your fingers.

 

“Casanova. But people call me Nova, usually. What's yours?” Nova looked up at you, a lovesick hazy look in his purple eyes, heart pupils. How amusing. A Cupid falling for an Incubi/Succubi. What are the odds? 

 

“Oh! Right! It's—” Before you can finish, a teacher begins herding everyone to their classes. Nova’s pissed —‘How...Why do I feel so angry?’— but goes along with it, delighted to see you wave with a sheepish grin, fangs showing. 

 

Nova doesn't know your name. But he doesn't need to. You're his angel in their mind, the one and only made for him. 

 

Very quickly you become a prominent part of his life, their parents even allowing you to stay at their house while the program goes on, happy to see their child so happy for once. 

 

With so many emotions suddenly hitting him all at once, it's no shock they fall harder than he should, becoming obsessed fast and hard. 

Nova begins realizing things they'd never realized before. The curves of your body. Those soft eyes he wants to see sobbing from pleasure. Those lips open, gasping their name—

 

But it ends far too soon. The program is forced to close, and you're gone just as fast as you came. Nova hates how empty he feels when you're gone, wondering how he ever lived without you.

 

He feels cold inside, a part of him disappearing with you. Something they can NEVER get back. He tries to be normal, smiling when he should, crying when he should, just be normal. 

 

It's easy for a while. To pretend. No, BE normal. Far too soon, or maybe far too late, he graduates high school. Then college. 

 

Years fly by, “friends” come and go, lovers he didn't give a shit about disappear after they get bored, and more and more blood then just his is on their hands. 

 

But you weren't always gone. You'd sneak out of hell and sneak onto paradise sometimes, and hang out with them. But it wasn't enough. He wanted all of your time and attention on him. Just once, they want someone to be there as a constant. 

 

Eventually he lands a job at Soulmates Corp. A Cupid work place, and he starts working. It's actually pretty simple and interesting. Sure, they don't use bow and arrows — usually. But being able to look through humans lives, to choose who they fall for. It's interesting. 

 

And then, one night, you innocently invite him to a club in hell. They instantly agree, after all, it's YOU. His angel, their savior, his LIFE LINE. Their EVERYTHING. 

 

Funnily enough, over the years the two swapped clothing styles. Nova wore more cutesy, sweet, pastel color clothes, and you wore darker, more “sexy” clothes. 

 

Nova arrived at the club, absentmindedly toying with the pockets of his pastel blue cardigan. Tonight would be the last night of your freedom - independance, after all! 

 

Nova walks in, you on his side, some of your friends accompanying the two of you. He could care less about these bastards, and soon makes sure to seperate you from your “friends”.

 

He watches you with loving eyes the entire night, making sure you get drunk so bad you can't stand. It's easy, you're too trusting. Too innocent for this world. 

 

He'll save you, just like you saved them! Eventually they take you to their place. At first it's tame. Friendly. 

 

“N—Novaaahhhh...C’mere, I hic! wanna see yer pretty faceeee...” Your voice is whiny, the alcohol really hitting you hard. Nova coos, walking over. 

 

They yelp, quite loudly, as you drag them onto the bed, curling into his side. It's innocent. His thoughts should be too. 

 

But all they can think about is your chest pressed against their arms, how easy it would be to just slip your shirt to the side, and touch. Feel.

 

He shakes his head, even if you're both drunk, he can't take advantage of you like that. They refuse to taint you, and that pretty little head of yours. 

 

Stuck in their own thoughts, Nova doesn't even realize you straddle him until it's too late. Your eyes are hazy with lust and alcohol, and he can't help but gulp nervously. 

 

“Angel, really, you...you need to sleep.” Nova tries to reason with you, but reasoning with a horny, drunk Demon, much less an Incubi or Succubi is like arguing with a wall. 

 

You whine, lips lazily smashing against his. Nova can't help but melt into it, and they hate how hard they are from just a touch, a single kiss. 

 

This is wrong. Both of you know this. Yet neither of you can stop it. One kiss turns into two, into three. 

 

“An-Angel!” Nova gasps out as you nip at his collarbone, their neck already covered in love bites and pretty blue and purple bruises. 

 

“Mmph..Wan’ more...Need more, Nova...” You growled out, one hand playing with his chest the other curled in their hair. 

 

More marks. More bites. So many. He looked so pretty like this, a crying mess under their ‘innocent’ friend. 

 

Still, he held enough restraint to stop you, not wanting to ruin your first times together. But, due to your insistence, they do give you some pleasure~

 

Nova sits on his knees, you splayed out on their silk sheets, your slick dripping onto the bed as you whined. Hips jerking up to meet his tongue, hands curled around their halo. 

 

Nova’s tongue swirls against your sex, whining from the taste of your juices against his tongue. It was better then he imagined all those nights, hand playing with their cock, desperate for some relief. 

 

With every swipe and sucking of his mouth, you get closer and closer to that sweet relief you desperately need. With one last gasp, your eyes roll back and hips buck against Nova’s mouth. 

 

Nova laps up every bit of your sweet essence, fucking you through your orgasm. He's gentle after you finish, murmuring praises into your ears as they carry you to their bathroom. 

 

During the bath you end up falling asleep, Nova carries you to bed and the two fall asleep, intangled in each other. 

 

It's morning. Your eyes flutter open, yawning softly as you groaned. Fuck, that's a horrible headache. You glance around, pausing as you feel a weight beside you. What the...

 

Your eyes glide to the person laying beside you, and you pause, your cheeks warming. Nova. You're in Nova’s bed. 

 

Nova, the Cupid boy you met as a kid. Nova, the Cupid you fell for, hard. Nova, the Cupid who always seemed so clueless and innocent. 

 

And they truly look like an Angel right now. The sun shines against against his white hair and skin beautifully, wings folded behind them. 

 

Your face feels even warmer as embarrassment fills you as you see bite marks all over their neck. Bite’s are how Demon’s mark their claim, usually on their mates. Angel’s too. 

 

He let you bite them. And yet, you can't find yourself to be mad over it. Nova’s eyes flutter open, glancing up at you. A soft smile appears on their face, as they lean up and kiss you. 

 

The Angel traps you in his wings and you giggle, curling into them. He's yours, and your his even if you don't know yet. 

 

You took their heart a long time ago. It's time he takes yours too. ♥︎

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Hypothetical AI election disinformation risks vs real AI harms

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (Feb 27) in Portland at Powell's. Then, onto Phoenix (Changing Hands, Feb 29), Tucson (Mar 9-12), and more!

You can barely turn around these days without encountering a think-piece warning of the impending risk of AI disinformation in the coming elections. But a recent episode of This Machine Kills podcast reminds us that these are hypothetical risks, and there is no shortage of real AI harms:

https://soundcloud.com/thismachinekillspod/311-selling-pickaxes-for-the-ai-gold-rush

The algorithmic decision-making systems that increasingly run the back-ends to our lives are really, truly very bad at doing their jobs, and worse, these systems constitute a form of "empiricism-washing": if the computer says it's true, it must be true. There's no such thing as racist math, you SJW snowflake!

https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2019/02/aoc-algorithms-racist-bias.html

Nearly 1,000 British postmasters were wrongly convicted of fraud by Horizon, the faulty AI fraud-hunting system that Fujitsu provided to the Royal Mail. They had their lives ruined by this faulty AI, many went to prison, and at least four of the AI's victims killed themselves:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Post_Office_scandal

Tenants across America have seen their rents skyrocket thanks to Realpage's landlord price-fixing algorithm, which deployed the time-honored defense: "It's not a crime if we commit it with an app":

https://www.propublica.org/article/doj-backs-tenants-price-fixing-case-big-landlords-real-estate-tech

Housing, you'll recall, is pretty foundational in the human hierarchy of needs. Losing your home – or being forced to choose between paying rent or buying groceries or gas for your car or clothes for your kid – is a non-hypothetical, widespread, urgent problem that can be traced straight to AI.

Then there's predictive policing: cities across America and the world have bought systems that purport to tell the cops where to look for crime. Of course, these systems are trained on policing data from forces that are seeking to correct racial bias in their practices by using an algorithm to create "fairness." You feed this algorithm a data-set of where the police had detected crime in previous years, and it predicts where you'll find crime in the years to come.

But you only find crime where you look for it. If the cops only ever stop-and-frisk Black and brown kids, or pull over Black and brown drivers, then every knife, baggie or gun they find in someone's trunk or pockets will be found in a Black or brown person's trunk or pocket. A predictive policing algorithm will naively ingest this data and confidently assert that future crimes can be foiled by looking for more Black and brown people and searching them and pulling them over.

Obviously, this is bad for Black and brown people in low-income neighborhoods, whose baseline risk of an encounter with a cop turning violent or even lethal. But it's also bad for affluent people in affluent neighborhoods – because they are underpoliced as a result of these algorithmic biases. For example, domestic abuse that occurs in full detached single-family homes is systematically underrepresented in crime data, because the majority of domestic abuse calls originate with neighbors who can hear the abuse take place through a shared wall.

But the majority of algorithmic harms are inflicted on poor, racialized and/or working class people. Even if you escape a predictive policing algorithm, a facial recognition algorithm may wrongly accuse you of a crime, and even if you were far away from the site of the crime, the cops will still arrest you, because computers don't lie:

https://www.cbsnews.com/sacramento/news/texas-macys-sunglass-hut-facial-recognition-software-wrongful-arrest-sacramento-alibi/

Trying to get a low-waged service job? Be prepared for endless, nonsensical AI "personality tests" that make Scientology look like NASA:

https://futurism.com/mandatory-ai-hiring-tests

Service workers' schedules are at the mercy of shift-allocation algorithms that assign them hours that ensure that they fall just short of qualifying for health and other benefits. These algorithms push workers into "clopening" – where you close the store after midnight and then open it again the next morning before 5AM. And if you try to unionize, another algorithm – that spies on you and your fellow workers' social media activity – targets you for reprisals and your store for closure.

If you're driving an Amazon delivery van, algorithm watches your eyeballs and tells your boss that you're a bad driver if it doesn't like what it sees. If you're working in an Amazon warehouse, an algorithm decides if you've taken too many pee-breaks and automatically dings you:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

If this disgusts you and you're hoping to use your ballot to elect lawmakers who will take up your cause, an algorithm stands in your way again. "AI" tools for purging voter rolls are especially harmful to racialized people – for example, they assume that two "Juan Gomez"es with a shared birthday in two different states must be the same person and remove one or both from the voter rolls:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/eligible-voters-swept-up-conservative-activists-purge-voter-rolls/

Hoping to get a solid education, the sort that will keep you out of AI-supervised, precarious, low-waged work? Sorry, kiddo: the ed-tech system is riddled with algorithms. There's the grifty "remote invigilation" industry that watches you take tests via webcam and accuses you of cheating if your facial expressions fail its high-tech phrenology standards:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/16/unauthorized-paper/#cheating-anticheat

All of these are non-hypothetical, real risks from AI. The AI industry has proven itself incredibly adept at deflecting interest from real harms to hypothetical ones, like the "risk" that the spicy autocomplete will become conscious and take over the world in order to convert us all to paperclips:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space

Whenever you hear AI bosses talking about how seriously they're taking a hypothetical risk, that's the moment when you should check in on whether they're doing anything about all these longstanding, real risks. And even as AI bosses promise to fight hypothetical election disinformation, they continue to downplay or ignore the non-hypothetical, here-and-now harms of AI.

There's something unseemly – and even perverse – about worrying so much about AI and election disinformation. It plays into the narrative that kicked off in earnest in 2016, that the reason the electorate votes for manifestly unqualified candidates who run on a platform of bald-faced lies is that they are gullible and easily led astray.

But there's another explanation: the reason people accept conspiratorial accounts of how our institutions are run is because the institutions that are supposed to be defending us are corrupt and captured by actual conspiracies:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

The party line on conspiratorial accounts is that these institutions are good, actually. Think of the rebuttal offered to anti-vaxxers who claimed that pharma giants were run by murderous sociopath billionaires who were in league with their regulators to kill us for a buck: "no, I think you'll find pharma companies are great and superbly regulated":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

Institutions are profoundly important to a high-tech society. No one is capable of assessing all the life-or-death choices we make every day, from whether to trust the firmware in your car's anti-lock brakes, the alloys used in the structural members of your home, or the food-safety standards for the meal you're about to eat. We must rely on well-regulated experts to make these calls for us, and when the institutions fail us, we are thrown into a state of epistemological chaos. We must make decisions about whether to trust these technological systems, but we can't make informed choices because the one thing we're sure of is that our institutions aren't trustworthy.

Ironically, the long list of AI harms that we live with every day are the most important contributor to disinformation campaigns. It's these harms that provide the evidence for belief in conspiratorial accounts of the world, because each one is proof that the system can't be trusted. The election disinformation discourse focuses on the lies told – and not why those lies are credible.

That's because the subtext of election disinformation concerns is usually that the electorate is credulous, fools waiting to be suckered in. By refusing to contemplate the institutional failures that sit upstream of conspiracism, we can smugly locate the blame with the peddlers of lies and assume the mantle of paternalistic protectors of the easily gulled electorate.

But the group of people who are demonstrably being tricked by AI is the people who buy the horrifically flawed AI-based algorithmic systems and put them into use despite their manifest failures.

As I've written many times, "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, but we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job"

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

The most visible victims of AI disinformation are the people who are putting AI in charge of the life-chances of millions of the rest of us. Tackle that AI disinformation and its harms, and we'll make conspiratorial claims about our institutions being corrupt far less credible.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/27/ai-conspiracies/#epistemological-collapse

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[javishifts]

25 Days of Shiftmas! MHA DR ｡𖦹°‧

⌗ 𝟗. snowflakes ; What are some headcannons you have about people in your dr?

I have soooooo many for everyone but I'll cut them down to the ones I interact with the most

Izuku

broski can fall asleep ANYWHERE. We found him face-down snoozing on the coffee table thing in the common room

can't lie to save his life

loves dinosaurs; me and him bond over it (my favourite is a deinonychus, look it up)

swears he isn't judgemental but gives the nastiest side eyes ever

on edge at all times. I walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder to ask him something and he quite literally jumped out of his own skin and almost used air force on me. Bless his heart

biggest back in the class

Bisexual critter

Katsuki

loves kicking the back of people's knees

very clingy when he's tired

his mom is one of those who signed their kid up for everything so he has a bunch of random talents

Massive Kendrick Lamar fan; Mina complains about his 'spitting bars' all the time

loves anything outdoorsy (I think we all knew this)

occasionally uses me as an armrest; I'm like 3 inches shorter than him but he still does it

his mom posted a picture on Facebook of him as a baby wearing a bear onesie and it was actually the cutest thing ever; Denki would not let him hear the end of it for 2 months straight

Pansexual; bro likes what he likes what can I say

"I'd rather shove my fingers up my nose and nuke my brain so you idiots have to watch it all ooze out" - his response when Mina wanted to do his makeup

Shoto

has a bit of 'tism i think

says 'no shit' a lot

has very deadpan humor

sometimes we train together; He makes ice spikes shoot up from the ground or blasts fire in my direction while I use my wind to avoid them or use it against him. He finds it funny when I lose my footing and slide down on his ice while I'm fighting for my life not to get impaled

we text back and forth the most random things in the middle of the night it's actually so funny

My nose just started bleeding I know I did that Telepathically How dare you

there's this one picture of me and him looking at someone with a disgusted face during our work studies that Izuku took and the class used it as a meme for weeks it was hilarious

Straight but was fully convinced he was gay once for no particular reason

silliest

Ochaco

unhealthy obsession with cinnaroll from sanrio; Momo bought her a huge plushy of it for her birthday and she cried

does little excited hops

her love language is physical touch; we were riding on the bus to the training camp together and she dozed off on my shoulder and it became my life's purpose to stay as still as possible

we're both huge space geeks; I got her a solar system model for her dorm and she got me a NASA tapestry

Is kinda chubby but she's got the craziest sleeper build

Bisexual

Momo

always, and I mean ALWAYS, has her nails done with french tips; material girl fr

literally the sweetest soul ever

we always have spa nights in her room because she has a massive stash of face masks and skincare products

devious at times; once snuck up behind me and started strangling me WITH MY OWN BRAID. I was talking to Sero and Kiri when she did it and they started laughing their asses off and rolling around on the floor

her wardrobe consists of designer brands

uses 'oh!' as a reaction a lot like that one tiktok audio

I have this habit of poking people in the side right below their ribs cuz it's fun; I've done this to Momo so many times to the point where she keeps her arms glued to her sides at all times around me

She gets so worried and insecure for no reason; Her and Shoto were in a talking stage for a while and ended up setting up a little coffee date and she would keep asking me what clothes or perfume she should wear and how to do her hair like girly just calm down you're perfect 😭

Straight; never really put much thought into it

Hanta

we make dance tiktoks together

we had a Minecraft server for a while until he killed my dog and blew up my house. I didn't talk to him for two days until he apologized by buying me a keychain that looks like Runo (my actual dog)

loves wearing beanies; has a whole collection of them

has one of those wheezing laughs

thinks saying 'I'm gonna touch you' with no warning whatsoever is the funniest thing in the world. I laughed a total of two times mostly because it was so out of context

Tugged on my braid really hard during training once and almost made me fall back; I chased him and strangled him with it

actually crazy at Mario kart

we were taking turns insulting each other for no reason at all and I called him a power ranger from temu because of his costume and let me tell you, his face dropped so fast and he turned around and walked away. I laughed SO hard at him bro everyone in the common room at the time was concerned for my life because I was coughing so much after

We were making a tiktok when some of us were training in gym gamma and you can just see Izuku and Kats just beating the shit out of each other in the background; it got over a million likes and people used it as a meme for the longest time

will randomly tape peoples mouth shut when they're talking; his current fave to do this to is Monoma and he gets so pissed LMAO

These aren't really headcanons I know but I treated it as if I've shifted and experienced these things firsthand

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

Characters in Showdown: Electric Boogaloo (2) Currently

Notes:

1.) This list is subject to change; characters will be added, some could get removed (very unlikely). Not all characters that have been submitted have even been reviewed yet. Characters are under the cut.

2.) The groupings are to make it a bit easier to find characters, they are broken up like this bc that’s how I did it last time.

3.) The form is still open, if you want to submit more propaganda for a character on here go ahead.

4.) Rejected characters are in a separate post here, along with characters that we are on the fence about. If you submitted someone and they aren’t here or on the rejected characters list feel free to ask about them, but just know it’s probably only because we haven’t gotten around to checking them yet.

5.) If there is a character you think doesn’t qualify you can ask us and we can tell you why they have been added. Just because a character can be deemed problematic isn’t grounds for removal.

Video Games:

Neve Gallus from Dragon Age: The Veilguard (2)

Siffrin from In Stars And Time (5)

Snake from Zero Escape (3)

Olivia Haas from Fear and Hunger: Termina

Miles Edgeworth from Ace Attorney

Kim Kitsuragi from Disco Elysium (2)

Tavish ‘Demoman’ Finnegan DeGroot from Team Fortress 2

Wyll Ravengard from Baldur’s Gate 3

Willow from Reverse: 1999

Hong from Adventures with Anxiety

Chamel from Love, Ghostie

Harrier ‘Harry’ Du Bois from Disco Elysium

Kurogane from Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle

Other Language Media:

Tan Yin from Blue Canvas of Youthful Days

Jiang Shao Peng from See Your Love (4)

Rose Lavillant from Miraculous Ladybug (2)

Heart from Moonlight Chicken

May from Pluto

Harry from Sleep With Me

Luna from Sleep With Me

Anime / Manga:

Johnny Joestar from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Steel Ball Run (2)

Hange Zoë from Attack on Titan

Monkey D. Luffy from One Piece (2)

Roronoa Zoro from One Piece

Kikunojo ‘Kiku’ from One Piece (3)

Laois Touden from Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon

Qifrey from Witch Hat Atelier

Animated / TV Show:

Takashi ‘Shiro’ Shirogane from Voltron: Legendary Defender

Ghoulia Yelps from Monster High

Frankie Stein from Monster High (g3)

Krester from 1899

Frank from The Last of Us

Sameen Shaw from Person of Interest (2)

Amaya from The Dragon Prince (2)

Korra from Avatar: The Legend of Korra (2)

Lottie Matthews from Yellowjackets

Ben Scott from Yellowjackets

Cassandra from Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure

Scorpia from She Ra and the Princesses of Power (2)

Ballister Boldheart from Nimona (Film)

Eda Clawthorne from The Owl House (2)

Victor from Arcane (2)

Leonardo from Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Norma Khan from Dead End: Paranormal Park (2)

Luz Noceda from The Owl House

Sam Eliot from The Society (2)

Gobber from How To Train Your Dragon

Star (Wars, Trek, ect.) / Superheroes:

Bruce Wayne from Batman / DC

Irene Adler / Destiny from Marvel (X-Men)

Matt Murdock from Marvel

Felix Gaeta from Battlestar Galactica

Darth Maul from Star Wars

Luke Skywalker from Star Wars

Timothy ‘Tim’ Drake from Batman / DC

Books:

Harrowhark Nonagesimus from The Locked Tomb (2)

Murderbot from The Murderbot Diaries (2)

Piper McLean from Heroes of Olympus

Will Solace from Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Jean Moreau from All For The Game

Frodo Baggins from The Lord of the Rings

Charlie Spring from Heartstopper

Adam Parrish from The Raven Cycle

Wu Zetian from Iron Widow

Dezi from The Sunbearer Trials

Tamarin from Wings of Fire

Anemone from Wings of Fire

Tyrannus ‘Baz’ Basilton Grimm-Pitch from Carry On / Fangirl

Snowflake from Wings of Fire

Other Stuff:

Marckus from Hunter: The Parenting

Juno Steel from The Penumbra Podcast

Buddy Aurinko from The Penumbra Podcast

Vespa Ilkay from The Penumbra Podcast

Valerie Day from Paranatural

Lillium White from Countdown to Countdown

Ayda Aguefort from Dimension 20: Fantasy High

Melanie King from The Magnus Archives (2)

Princess Sapphia from High Class Homos

Terezi Pyrope from Homestuck

[fungifanart]

Subzero Sonata

Characters: Male reader, Yuu!reader, Vil, Epel, Lilia, Malleus, Silver is mentioned

Word Count: 888

CW: Violence. The reader can sing. Also, the reader can use magic. (I'd recommend not thinking about it too much)

Notes: *Slaps Word document* This thing can fit SO much self-indulgence in it! I wrote this as part of a TWST Halloween collab organized by @twistedchatterbox. So, uuuhhh, sorry I'm late. I've been working a new job recently on top of class, so I haven't been able to sit down and write much.

(In case you were wondering, this is the song)

--------------------------------------------------------

You feel your determination solidify inside of you as you face down an army of possessed students and as the group splits up to take on each threat, you move towards the crowd and call out to the others, "I can help you guys with crowd-control, but I need you to cover me!"

"What? What are you gonna do??" Epel questions.

"Hey Vil! Remember how you said I'd make an excellent opera singer?" You ask as the man in question looks at you with wide eyes, "Well, you're about to get your wish!"

—--------------------------------------------------------

The sound of a ringing bell echoes throughout the hall, as if signaling the coming of the frigid wind that is now blowing across it.

The Prefect kneels in the center of the protective circle Vil and the others have formed as a flurry of ice and snow swirls around him and the first notes of a song echo from seemingly nowhere.

The music builds as the flurry disperses into cold mist, revealing the Prefect in a completely new outfit, going from a white shirt, white sweatpants and a white faux fur shawl, which Vil had only begrudgingly approved of, to a fine-tailored suit reminiscent of an opera virtuoso's accentuated with delicate snowflake patterns along the sleeves and rims, all topped-off with a pure white parasol.

Vil stares in awe as the Prefect begins to stand up and speak as the music swells, "Good evening, masters. Is this the new recital stage?" He says while giving a small bow.

The music gains more orchestral instruments and fully begins as the Prefect closes his parasol and walks forward, "Oh my! Such a large audience! I'd better jump into the chorus then!" He says before clearing his throat and releasing a powerful high note in time with the music that sends out a wave of pure ice magic into the air, forcing nearby ghosts to abandon their host bodies and leaving any stray ghosts in its path on the ground, frozen solid.

The Prefect keeps singing as the air grows colder and Vil turns back around to focus on fighting. However, as he does so, he sees more blasts of ice magic being shot at the possessed students with each new note the Prefect hits.

Vil tries to keep his focus, he really does, but hearing the Prefect’s voice repeatedly go up and down musical scales with such elegance and precision that he didn't think the other man possessed makes it extremely difficult.

However, with the Prefect’s help, they've managed to hold their own so far, and with Vil getting only slightly distracted by the beautiful singing happening behind him, just for the Prefect to stop singing as the song progresses to the next verse. Hearing this, Vil glances behind himself to ensure he's okay and sees a burst of icy mist call forth large snowflakes that dance around the Prefect as he stands firm with perfect poise and posture before opening his mouth to continue singing.

Things are seemingly going well as the Prefect sings…until Lilia takes notice and jumps completely over both defensive lines made by Silver and Vil's groups, razor-sharp nails trained perfectly on the Prefect’s neck.

However, before anyone can react, the Prefect reaches an elongated high note that he aims directly at Lilia, buffeting him with a concentrated storm of ice magic that sends him flying back towards Silver's group, covered in frost that hinders his mobility to ensure he won't be making a jump like that again.

The Prefect’s song continues as the biting cold encroaches on the enemy with each note, forcing more and more ghosts out of their mortal hosts and eventually drawing Malleus's attention, who sends a barrage of green fireballs at Vil's group from his place at the pipe organ, all of which are neutralized by the Prefect’s ice.

Finally, the song reaches its climax, which is signaled by the Prefect’s voice going up an octave, causing Vil to have to resist the urge to stop fighting and pull up a chair just to watch the rest of the performance. Which he may well be able to do at this point with how many possessed students have been saved now, but Vil decides not to leave anything up to chance and continues fighting as the ice and frost on the floor creep their way up the platform where Rook's group is still engaging with Malleus, the heat from his fire attacks being the only thing that stops them from overtaking him.

However, any remaining heat in the air quickly disappears as the Prefect reaches a note so high for him that it causes Vil's heart to skip a beat while sending a torrent of sub-zero temperatures across the entire hall, liberating the last of the possessed students and coating every surface in the grand hall with a solid layer of permafrost.

The song ends with one final high note from the Prefect before he holds his parasol above his head once again as his outfit reverts back to what it was before.

And, despite his disappointment about the Prefect’s outfit, Vil can only stand there, enthusiastically applauding the other man's performance and silently hoping that his makeup can sufficiently mask the heat he feels blossoming on his face in spite of the overwhelming cold encompassing the area.

[hyunjinspark]

Can we have a chapter snippet🤞

yes! here is a teaser for your patience, since it's taking me longer (and killing me, in the best way) to edit this 40K chapter...

The snowflakes had settled on his coat, melting slowly in the confused warmth of the apartment and the cold wind from the outside, where he’d stupidly left the door open.

His eyes were filled with confusion, gaze moving from you to the duffel bag in your hands. The wheels clicked in his head, and oh, to know what went through Hyunjin’s mind when he put two and two together. You would kill to know how his mind worked, especially right now. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you said, “What are you doing here, Hyunjin?”

His brows furrowed as some kind of epiphany sank in, “Are you going somewhere?”

It wasn’t an answer to your question, and you had no energy to justify yourself right now, “That doesn’t concern you.”

“What do you mean?” He took a step up tentatively like if he stepped too close, you’d run away. But you were, weren’t you? You were running away. You didn’t want to talk to him, not when all of your latest conversations with Hyunjin had ended in heartbreak.

You had made up your mind, and you were going home. He obviously didn’t want you in your life, as he’d explicitly stated every time. So why the fuck was he at your doorstep?

You looked him in the eye, a bubbling anticipation rising within you at his possible reaction.

He obviously wouldn’t care though, would he? He wanted you gone too.

You swallowed, speaking clearly so he wouldn’t misunderstand, “I’m leaving, Hyunjin.”

“What?” A flash of confusion crippled his features. Just then, Jeongin’s voice carried through the stairwell, and you heard his footsteps as he ran up the stairs, yelling, “The taxi’s here! I already put your suitcases in the trunk.”

Hyunjin frowned, “Your suitcases? What is he talking about?”

Helpless, you stared at him. You had no clue how to explain this to him because it would mean admitting that you were wrong about everything. About moving here, about the classes, about Jieong… You weren’t going to be weak in front of him.

His cheeks were red, courtesy of the quickly developing storm outside. It just meant you needed to get out of here as soon as possible, you couldn’t wait around for your train to get delayed because of the increment weather. It was fitting, because the snowstorm matched your turmoil. You tightened the grip on your bag, taking a step ahead, and your voice didn’t waver as you said, “It means that I’m going home, Hyunjin. To Daejon.”

“I’m sorry…what?” His eyes widened.

You stepped closer, lugging your bag with you, “You heard me…” Finally, you came eye-to-eye with him in the middle of the staircase, “I never should have come here. It was my mistake. So you don’t have to worry about me being in your life anymore, and since you’re probably never coming back to Daejon then….” You swallowed, staring at him, and suddenly it was harder to speak the following few words, “Then… I guess this is goodbye, Hyunjin.”