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happy womens day to everyones favorite woman

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im swooning

the misfortunes and misconceptions of lee heeseung

❝ i'll let you in on a little secret: wanting nothing to do with y/n starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her. ❞

PAIRING ▸ slytherin!heeseung x hufflepuff!fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, hogwarts au, idiots to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, the classic amortentia trope because what screams valentine's day like love potions, heeseung is down horrendous, sunghoon missing half an eyebrow, jake is babygirl, lots of catastrophizing, minor bending of canon for plot convenience, and a kiss scene of course

SUMMARY ▸ by no means does lee heeseung hold any romantic feelings toward you. the mere possibility is jarring, considering his luck seems to take a turn for the worst whenever he’s around you. from getting hit with a bludger during quidditch to getting into trouble with filch for setting off dungbombs in his office, heeseung starts to think you’re some sort of bad omen. he’s prepared for disaster when you two become partners in potions, but why does the amortentia smell like you?

WORD COUNT ▸ 13,497 words

PLAYLIST ▸ lavender kiss by the licks

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is jayflrt's valentine for you ♡

LEE HEESEUNG WAS CERTAIN YOU MUST HAVE HAD AN AFFINITY FOR NEARLY KILLING HIM REGULARLY.

When he, Slytherin’s prized Seeker, got knocked off his broom by a bludger, there was only one potential suspect he could narrow the crime down to in his head. 

In your hand was the very bat that sent the bludger in his way, hitting his miserable self square in the gut. 

This seemed to be a pattern between the two of you, where it was mostly Heeseung experiencing great misfortune because of the Hufflepuff’s mere existence. His best friend, Park Jongseong, told him that he had probably wronged you in a past life for him to suffer this much around you. While Heeseung initially brushed it off as a joke, he couldn’t help but start to question if it was actually true.

Back in his first year, Heeseung met you during the Sorting Hat ceremony, where you accidentally tripped him right before he walked up to get sorted. Everyone in the Grand Hall laughed at him, which was not his idea of a welcoming initiation into Slytherin, so he glared holes into the back of your head for the rest of the year. 

In his third year, you ran into him at King’s Cross station, causing all of his trunks to go flying. While you were helping him repack everything, you two realized that the Hogwarts Express was long gone, and neither of you could even access the magical entryway to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Heeseung cried into his hands at the train station until a professor Apparated to pick them both up, and then you teased him about his tears for what felt like forever. 

In a similar sense, Heeseung had somehow always managed to get into trouble when he was around you. Now, he had naturally grown out of disliking you for causing him so much suffering (mostly because he was far more popular now and everyone had forgotten about how you sent him flying during a duel, unfortunately revealing his strawberry-patterned boxers to an entire room of second and third years), but Heeseung was still wary about the adversity that seemed to follow you.

Were you a friend? Heeseung couldn’t tell for sure. You two spent an awfully long amount of time together, but you both also had your separate friend groups that hardly intermingled. Heeseung supposed you were more of a thorn in his side that hurt more when he tried to yank it out.

Now, there was nothing left for him to do now but clutch his stomach in pain and pray that he didn’t need to spend another night in the infirmary because of you. (Madam Pomfrey started to keep a tally; “Oh, Miss L/N didn’t injure you again, did she? Have a toffee, sweetheart,” was what he was expecting to hear from the school nurse.)

“Heeseung! Are you okay?” you asked, running up to him with your other hand clutching your broom. Thankfully, Heeseung had managed to grip his broom with one hand on the way down until he had safely landed, so there were no damages to his Moontrimmer. “Who did this to you?!”

“I know you’re holding the bat behind your back, Y/N,” he got out through gritted teeth.

He watched as you let your arm fall defeatedly to your side, revealing the Beater’s bat that violated practically every safety protocol.

“Oh, how embarrassing,” Kim Minjeong, the Chaser for the Slytherin team, said with a giggle from behind her palm. She was still floating a few feet from the ground, witnessing the damage done from her broom. Heeseung glared up at her. “Not a good look for you, Captain.”

Normally, he would shut Minjeong up with his usual threat that went something along the lines of putting a curse on her bloodline. This time, however, Heeseung was in far too much pain and humiliation to come up with a witty comeback.

Madam Hooch came running across the field to see what happened to her star Quidditch player. On the bright side, Heeseung knew that you wouldn’t get in trouble because game was game; you were just doing what you needed to ensure your victory, even though Slytherin still had a huge lead on Hufflepuff. After momentary deliberation, however, Heeseung realized that the bright side should have been the fact that he was still alive. Why was he thinking about you, anyway? He would pay galleons to see you get in trouble—but not too much trouble (and Merlin’s beard, he was far too soft).

“He needs to be taken to the infirmary,” Madam Hooch said. She spared you a glance before making a shooing motion with her gloved hand. By this time, his friends (Park Sunghoon, a sixth year who Heeseung ‘adopted’ in his second year, and Yang Jungwon, a broody fourth year with a penchant for rule-breaking) had come running down the stands and across the field. “You can visit him after you finish the match, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey can handle this.”

“Yes, of course,” you murmured, turning to Heeseung again and muttering a pathetic apology, to which he cracked a grin at. Maybe he shouldn’t have been grinning since you nearly cracked his skull open, or maybe he had really lost it this time. 

“It’s only been a week since you’ve managed to nearly get me killed.” Heeseung shuddered at the memory of you accidentally setting his cloak on fire last week with a Blasting Charm. “Don’t worry. I knew something was gonna happen sooner or later.”

Words of affirmation weren’t exactly his strong suit. 

But upon seeing the awkward grin on your face, like a blast of light that hit him all at once, Heeseung was suddenly painfully aware of everything—the awfully pleasant scent of lavender wafting from you, the searing ache from his injury, the way your hair framed your face, and the cool metal balled in his fist. 

Wait—metal?

Before he was about to be carried out in a not-so-dignified manner, Heeseung raised his arm to open his palm, revealing the Golden Snitch that sat obediently, fanning its wings out once before closing again. A gasp rose from the crowd, and then the shocked looks from both teams followed. Minjeong nearly fell off her broom. The Slytherin house all but exploded in cheers after Madam Hooch gaped at the sight, fumbled for her whistle, blew it loudly, and then announced Slytherin’s victory over Hufflepuff. 

Heeseung sighed in relief and fully collapsed onto the ground, looking up at the clear sky with contentment lifting the anguish from his brows. And now that he knew the verdict of the match, the pain finally hit him all at once, and he hoped Madam Pomfrey could fix him up before his house started celebrating their triumph. 

“Heeseung! That was an incredible play!” Nishimura Riki, a fourth year Gryffindor, cried as he came running from the stands. If by incredible, he was referring to Heeseung getting bludgeoned to the ground, then sure, incredible—outstanding, even. The flash of Riki’s camera went off, capturing a pathetic-looking Heeseung lying limp on the springy turf. “This’ll definitely make the front page!”

Ever since the Nishimura kid got an internship at the Daily Prophet, the Slytherin team had been worried about appearing on the news unprompted—most likely in unflattering angles, too. It had even gotten to the point of Song Eunseok pinning up a poster of Riki to a corkboard in the locker room, as if he was a wanted criminal at large.

“Er, could we retake—”

“You grab his legs,” a voice from behind him ordered. It was Sunghoon, who had come running with Jungwon to carry him out of the field. “I’ll take his arms.”

Heeseung balked. “Guys, wait!”

But it was no use. He was already in the air, and Jungwon and Sunghoon were both ignoring his protests.

As if he was a rather sad sack of potatoes, Heeseung was carried out, body dangling and his eyes screwed shut as he heard more flashes of Riki’s camera going off. Most of all, he wondered if you caught sight of how pitiful he was. Surely, you found it hilarious, didn’t you? He was certain he would get teased endlessly in Charms next week. 

“Nice game, champ,” Jungwon commented oh-so-casually, and Heeseung’s blood started boiling. 

“Can you put me down already?! We have magic for a reason!” he blurted out, but his two friends ignored him all the same. 

“I saw Sunoo being carried out like this the other day outside of the Dueling Club meeting room,” Sunghoon mused, and Heeseung imagined the poor Slytherin also being hauled to the infirmary like a ragdoll. “I heard he got hit with a nasty Disarming Charm. Someone nearly blasted the poor guy right into the Clock Tower’s pendulum.”

“I know. He’s better at dodging than I thought,” Jungwon replied unsympathetically. “What a shame. I’ll get him next time.”

Heeseung blanched. Poor Kim Sunoo.

But then he remembered his current state and thought Sunoo was better off than him. At least Sunoo wasn’t carried out in front of the entire school. 

Really, the reason why Heeseung was so agitated was because being Slytherin’s Seeker meant that he had an important role. It was a responsibility that clearly set him apart, and it surely had to look impressive to others—for example, you—but here he was, being carried out of the Quidditch pitch like an idiot. It put all of his hard work and countless hours of practice to shame. 

Thankfully, although his failing jock status might have damaged his ego to the point of no return, Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to think his injuries were too severe this time. After a few healing charms, which made him feel back to normal in no time, Heeseung was ready to leave the infirmary. 

Sunghoon and Jungwon ended up leaving right after dropping him off, claiming that they had to go celebrate their win in the Slytherin common room. Heeseung found it completely disrespectful to ditch the very person who brought them to victory. 

To his surprise, you were waiting outside the door, twiddling your thumbs and doing that annoyingly cute habit of yours where you chewed on the inside of your cheek whenever you were in trouble (which, frankly, happened a lot of the time). He made a great deal of effort to adjust his cape before walking over to you with raised eyebrows, wondering if an apology was coming his way. 

“I just wanted to say,” you started, voice uncharacteristically small and wavering, but then you followed up with an incomprehensible mumble that Heeseung could hardly decipher.

“What?”

“Uh,” you raised your voice this time, keeping it steadier with extra effort, “on the way here—funny story, really—I was telling Jake about how you set off a Dungbomb in Filch’s office the other week. Honest to God, I didn’t even see Mrs. Norris!”

Although you didn’t provide a solid conclusion, he was able to connect the dots and figure out what you were getting at. He almost wished he stayed oblivious because how was this happening to him twice in a day?

Heeseung’s face fell. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Filch is looking for you,” you finished with a guilty look drawn across your face. 

It happened to be your second guilty look of the day, actually. Two too many for Heeseung to handle. 

There was one thing Lee Heeseung was quite sure of, and it was that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you from now on. 

The aftermath of his scolding from Filch resulted in him receiving evening detentions for the rest of the week. All you brought him was terrible luck wherever he went, and despite how nice you smelled and how shiny your hair was, he didn’t need your misfortune clinging to him like it would be the last breath he’d take. 

Honestly, any longer around you and he was pretty sure he would be taking his last breath soon.

But it was honestly ridiculous how hard Heeseung had to restrain himself from going near you. He would pass by your unbothered self in the Courtyard, hoping to get some verbal recognition from you that would change his mind about his whole ignoring thing, but you simply just paid more attention to stupid Jake Sim from Hufflepuff. 

Who cared about Jake Sim, anyway? Surely not the several girls in his year that threw themselves at him. There was nothing redeeming about him, not even with his perfect smile and perfect grades and perfect robes. Honestly, where did he get those robes? Heeseung bought his at Madam Malkin’s, like virtually every other student, but they weren’t as perfectly trimmed and fitted as Jake Sim’s perfect robes.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Park Jongseong, a sixth year Ravenclaw, sneered once he saw the glower across Heeseung’s face. “Wanting nothing to do with Y/N starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her.”

“Who said I didn’t not want anything to do with her?” Heeseung fired back, but even he was confused about his response, taking a few extra seconds to process what nonsense had just spewed out of his mouth. “Okay, look, just pretend I said the funniest thing you’ve ever heard when she walks by us.”

“Actually, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Heeseung gave him an exasperated look. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re not that funny to begin with. Kind of hilarious that you think you’d be able to tell me the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You literally just told me I said the funniest thing ever.”

“Funny because it was such a pathetic thing to say. There’s a difference.”

“You’re a stupid git, you know that?”

“Am I now?”

“The stupidest of stupid gits.”

In truth, Jake was the stupid git. Jongseong could tease Heeseung all he wanted, but Jake Sim was the one grinning down at you with a stupid sparkle in his eyes, taunting the Slytherin with those evil, perfect corners of his lips. Didn’t he have better things to do? Like not taking up the oxygen in a place where he was clearly unwanted?

Also, to set the record straight, Heeseung needed to make it perfectly clear (to himself, too, because this was clearly confusing for him and everybody around him) that he was not into you. 

Probably.

Sure, he felt a smidge of fondness because you two had gotten into life-threatening situations before (all your fault, by the way), so there was probably some semblance of friendship that was only due to the fact that shared trauma often brought people together. But that was all it was. Heeseung’s feelings did not extend into anything remotely romantic; he even shuddered at the very thought. 

That was right. He was your friend, and that was all he wanted to be. Heeseung most definitely did not think about anything like holding your hand, or plucking flowers to braid into your hair, or kissing you in hidden corners of the castle. That would be ridiculous and completely unlike him.

And then you really did walk past him and Jongseong, so Heeseung took it upon himself to punch his friend’s shoulder hard and burst into forced laughter. He tried extremely hard to convince himself that this was a very normal thing to do, but soon after the act, he wanted to lay on the floor of the Owlery until the owls collectively decided to fly his body out somewhere far away—hopefully another country.

“Idiot, I’m the one who’s supposed to laugh,” Jongseong reminded him once you were out of sight. (You did not pay attention to his charade, Heeseung was sad to note.) With a scoff, he added, “You should probably hit the books ‘cause acting’s clearly not up your alley.”

Heeseung let out a retired sigh and stood up from the stone bench they had been sitting on. “I’m going to Potions.”

“Oh, you attend class now? Shocking.” 

“I prefer not spending my evenings in detention.”

“Alright. I’ll update you later on the Jake-and-Y/N show.”

“You do that, and I’ll show you how good I’ve gotten at the hair loss curse,” he spat. “I’d start investing in some hats.”

“Is that why Sunghoon’s missing half an eyebrow?”

Heeseung didn’t answer. Honestly, Sunghoon’s predicament had nothing to do with him, but he left it up to Jongseong’s imagination for the sake of intimidation.

As he stormed away (well, more of a brisk walk; Heeseung wasn’t one to storm), he realized that his friends had all sorts of misconceptions about him. He couldn’t wrap his head around why Jongseong would possibly think he was concerned about you and Jake Sim. Sure, he spent a good portion of the morning glaring daggers at Jake Sim, but there was no way that meant Heeseung was that concerned about the Hufflepuff. 

What was there to be concerned about, anyway? Heeseung was the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, scored five O.W.L.s last year, and he was the top duelist at Hogwarts. Jake Sim was just another pretty boy who Heeseung could crush under the sole of his shoe if he wanted to. 

His mind wandered to thoughts of you and Jake Sim walking back to the Hufflepuff common room together. Your melodic laugh echoing through the halls because of a joke he told; your fingers entwined with his as he carried your books for you; and your eyes practically glowing with admiration as you watched him intently. 

The thought made Heeseung sick to his stomach. Not because he liked you or anything disgusting like that, but because Jake Sim didn’t deserve to receive that much attention—not even in a hypothetical scenario that played out in Heeseung’s wild, almost sadistic imagination.

One thought comforted him, though: You had Potions with Heeseung, meaning you had to pry yourself from Jake’s side to attend Slughorn’s class. 

As he was about to approach the classroom door, Heeseung realized he had forgotten his Potions textbook. He debated whether to go in without it or run to his dormitory to fetch it, and he eventually went with the latter to avoid being clueless if today required brewing a potion. This resulted in him being about ten minutes late to class, which he decided was your fault somehow. 

Immediately upon entering the room, the pungent scent of lavender filled his nostrils, and it was all he could smell. He later recognized that there were a few other smells mixed in—the smell of butterbeer and the smell of fresh ink. The lavender, however, was so intense that it overwhelmed his senses.

It smelled like you.

Before Heeseung was about to blurt out and ask why you doused the entire classroom in your perfume, Professor Slughorn turned to look at him with brows raised in pleasant surprise.

“Ah, Mr. Lee,” he greeted. “You’re early today.”

He was ten minutes late.

“Uh, just forgot my textbook,” he said, holding up the Potions textbook he walked several, brutal flights of stairs to retrieve. 

“If you’re ready to join us, I was just going over Amortentia.” 

If Heeseung’s memory served him correctly, that was either the potion that boosted one’s memory or the potion that induced laughter. He hadn’t exactly been doing his reading over the summer, which was probably not an intelligent decision on his part considering he was in N.E.W.T. level Potions.

Either way, he was a little too preoccupied mentally replaying how his eyes met yours briefly. Heeseung walked over to stand next to you—for research purposes, of course—because he needed to know if you had really drenched yourself in lavender perfume, or if he had just gone crazy.

He nudged you with his elbow and muttered, “You reek.” 

Okay, that was definitely not a chivalrous way of putting it.

“Excuse me?” Your unnaturally high-pitched voice was hardly a whisper, but Heeseung could detect… panic?

“No, I mean your perfume,” he corrected quickly. “It’s everywhere.”

“Is it that strong?” You lifted your sleeve to sniff at it. 

“Yeah? It’s—”

“—the most powerful love potion known to wizardkind,” Heeseung heard Slughorn say as he redirected his focus to the actual lecture. “Amortentia’s said to smell different to each person, according to what attracts them.”

So it turned out that his memory didn’t serve him correctly at all.

Heeseung had his fair share of near-death experiences—probably a few more than the average Hogwarts student.

Never had he wanted so badly to combust into flames on the spot like a phoenix. Except he didn’t want to rise from the ashes; he was perfectly content with staying dead and buried without ever having to relive the last couple minutes of his life, which he was sure would scar him forever. 

Immediately, Heeseung stopped focusing on Slughorn’s lecture to conjure up some lame excuse in his head. Maybe he could tell everyone that his Muggle-born father owned a lavender farm back in the day, thus his love for lavender scents bloomed. But, Merlin’s beard, that didn’t even make sense! Just because he loved the smell of lavender didn’t mean he was in love with it. The smell was always attached to the person—the very object of his desires.

And, of course, it all pointed back to you.

Heeseung should not have had the realization that he was in love with you in the middle of Potions, of all classes. Astronomy? Sure. He thought it would be romantic to come to terms with his feelings whilst observing the celestial bodies in the sky. Divination? Even better. Gazing into a crystal ball for answers made complete sense. 

But Potions? Seriously? This was probably the least romantic place in Hogwarts aside from the haunted bathroom in the South Wing. 

No, on second thought, Heeseung saw some potential in the haunted bathroom. Something about the complete isolation of the facility made it all the more exciting.

Potions, on the other hand, was simply downright dreadful. 

“Amortentia, as you all know, is extremely dangerous. I only have it out here for educational purposes, so do not even think about touching that cauldron,” Slughorn warned. “Instead, for today’s lesson, I want you all to partner up and brew something… more lighthearted—say, Elixir for Inducing Euphoria. You can find it in your Potions books in chapter eight.”

After his lecture, Slughorn made everyone write down what Amortentia smelled like for them, warning his class about the dangers of the love potion being slipped into someone’s food or drink. Heeseung hastily wrote his down on a scrap of parchment before pocketing it where he would surely forget it existed.

He had been hoping Potion-making was going to be individual work today. He despised partner work, especially when that meant Heeseung would potentially be working with you, which didn’t prove too successful for his heart or his grades. 

More importantly, Heeseung did not, by any means, want to work alongside you after accidentally admitting that the Amorentia smelled like lavender to him.

Not to mention you were atrocious when it came to Potions. Heeseung needed more than two hands to count all the times your cauldron blew up in your face this year. Even when Heeseung took the reins and stirred the ingredients himself, you would somehow manage to expertly worsen the situation.

Thankfully, Kim Sunoo also took Potions, so as soon as Heeseung spotted the Slytherin, he grabbed his robes by the nape. 

“You’re working with me.” 

It came off more as an order than a request, but Heeseung needed to be firm to emphasize the gravity of the situation he was in. What if he died working with you? Did Sunoo want him dead? 

“No way,” Sunoo refused. “I already told Sohee I’d work with him. Plus, you never bring the right ingredients.”

Well, that was that; Sunoo hated Heeseung and wanted him dead. 

“Are you serious? Sohee?” Heeseung asked, acting as if Sohee wasn’t one of the top students in Potions. “You’re turning your best friend down?”

“No, I’m turning you down.”

“Okay, ouch.”

“Sunoo, d’you have any Sopophorous beans on you?” Lee Sohee asked as he approached the two, reading off his Potions book. “I have Worm—oh, hey, Heeseung!”

With little enthusiasm, he greeted, “Hi, Sohee.”

“Heeseung needs a partner,” Sunoo explained.

“Oh, really?” Before Heeseung could stop him, Sohee turned his head and cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Y/N! Heeseung needs a partner, too!”

“Sohee!” Heeseung hissed, suddenly wishing Sohee’s head was a Quaffle he could launch into oblivion. He lowered his voice to mutter, “Have you considered that maybe I’m asking Sunoo because I don’t wanna partner with Y/N?”

He shrugged in response. “How was I supposed to know that?”

Oh, this was horrible. Not only did Sunoo hate Heeseung and want him dead, but Sohee had joined in on the cause, too. They were both clearly plotting something wicked against him.

But now he had no other choice. It wasn’t like he could turn you down after Sohee had blatantly lied about Heeseung’s intentions. This was the worst outcome yet; he was probably going to fail Potions because of you, and then he would have to write a make-up paper on the stupid elixir they were supposed to brew.

“No one wants to partner with me!” you complained, shoulders sagging and lips forming a pout when you walked over to the Slytherin. “I can always count on you, though, Hee.”

Heeseung couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

No one wanted to partner with you? What had the wizarding world come to? Where was the comradery? 

He was almost infuriated by how spineless the rest of his classmates were. Sure, Heeseung was complaining about working with you seconds prior, but you said it yourself: you could always count on him. At the end of the day, failing today’s class and writing a make-up paper was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Heeseung would always extend a helpful hand to those who needed it, or someone he was potentially crushing on.

Get a grip, Heeseung, he scolded himself. You do not have a crush on her. She’s just a good friend, that’s all. A perfectly normal, platonic friend of yours who gets on your nerves sometimes… and smells rather nice… and sort of looks extremely pretty when she has her hair tied up… and—

Okay, this was getting ridiculous.

“Yeah,” he got out in an embarrassingly choked voice. “You were my first choice, anyway—well, after Sunoo turned me down.”

There often came a time when a man had to put himself through tough situations to overcome adversity. As Heeseung approached their table, his shiny cauldron gleaming under the lamp light, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Make sure you didn’t lay a finger on his bloody cauldron.

Sunoo and Sohee were working at the same table, standing at the bench across from them. Heeseung quickly sifted through his bag, and, as Sunoo predicted, he didn’t bring any of the ingredients necessary for the elixir. What the hell was he going to do with Fluxweed and rose oil?

“I have porcupine quills,” you said, pulling a glass jar out of your bag.

“Uh, okay, so I need you to get a Shrivelfig and Wormwood from Slughorn’s closet,” he instructed you, giving you a thumbs-up once you nodded. “I’m gonna beg Sunoo for his Sopophorous beans.”

After you walked off, Heeseung leaned over the table and muttered, “Sunoo, please give me some of your beans.”

“No,” the prick replied. 

“Please,” Heeseung begged. “Eunseok’s table took the last of them from Slughorn’s closet.”

“Maybe, but I want something in return.”

“What do you want?”

A sly grin spread across Kim Sunoo’s face. “Tell me what the Amorentia smelled like for you.”

Honestly, Heeseung was perfectly content with writing another twenty inches to make up for a failed potion. He would even take detention, if needed. Anything to get himself out of this sick and twisted situation. 

In his head, he imagined Sunoo getting what he deserved, and that was his ass getting properly kicked during Dueling Club. He envisioned Jungwon flourishing his wand and blasting Sunoo square in the gut, knocking him straight into the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

He gave his friend a reproachful look. “I wish Jungwon’s spell hit you.”

Sunoo chuckled darkly and held up his jar of Sopophorous beans, waving them teasingly in the air. This was almost too much for Heeseung, but he committed to working with you, so he couldn’t let you down while you were off getting the rest of the ingredients.

“Lavender,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “The Amorentia smelled like lavender.”

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Hear that, Sohee? Heeseung smelled lavender. You know who else usually smells like lavender?”

At that moment, you returned with the rest of the ingredients. You showed Heeseung the jars and bottles you brought over, but he was too distracted to properly examine them. His gaze remained fixed on Sunoo, eyes burning with resentment. He prayed to Salazar that Sunoo wouldn’t slip up in front of you.

Sohee, who clearly had no idea who Sunoo was referring to, blinked slowly. “Uh, Professor Longbottom? He probably smells like it—you know, with all the time he spends in the Greenhouse.”

“Yes, Sohee, I’m in love with Professor Longbottom,” Heeseung deadpanned. “Thank you for your wonderful insight.”

You made a face. “You’re in love with who?” 

“No one,” Heeseung replied quickly once Sunoo finally handed him his desired ingredients. He lit the fire under the cauldron, dropping a sprig of peppermint inside to counterbalance the possible side-effects. “Just peel the Shrivelfig and chop the porcupine quills while I stir.”

The potion-making seemed to be going smoothly for the first few steps. However, when you were chopping the porcupine quills, Heeseung’s chest leaped when he heard an ouch come from you. He forgot about his cauldron immediately and looked over to see your finger bleeding.

“What happened?” He grabbed hold of your hand, inspecting the blood oozing from your cut. “Did you slice your finger?”

“M-my hand just slipped.”

This was bad. If Heeseung didn’t disinfect and bandage the wound, then it could possibly get infected and you’d die. (Merlin’s Beard, Heeseung, it’s hardly a flesh wound, his thoughts annoyingly cut in.) He needed to get you to Madam Pomfrey before—

“Heeseung!” Sunoo yelled from over the table. 

He whirled around to see that elixir had turned a deep purple hue, bubbling up to the rim. That was strange; it was supposed to be a bright yellow color by now. Considering he was handling the cauldron the entire time, nothing should have gone badly wrong. Time seemed to slow down as Heeseung speculated what in Salazar’s name he managed to screw up.

That was when he noticed the green bottle next to the cauldron—the Infusion of Wormwood he poured in earlier. Except it wasn’t Wormwood; the brown tag hanging from the neck of the bottle read Flobberworm Mucus.

Before he could curse himself for not reading the label properly beforehand, the failed elixir rose all the way to the top and shot out of the cauldron, spewing purple liquid all over their table and burning a hole through the wood. Slughorn’s head turned sharply in their direction, and he crossed the classroom to see what mess you and Heeseung had caused. 

“Evanesco!” the Potions teacher shouted, making the substance vanish in an instant. Slughorn looked mostly unsurprised as he turned to face you and Heeseung, letting a retired sigh slip. “Five points from Slytherin and Hufflepuff—and twenty inches on the properties of Amortentia by next class.”

“Twenty?” you cried, nearly gasping from the shock. “But, Sir, we have so much work from our other N.E.W.T. classes already!”

“And we have the Hogsmede trip after class,” Heeseung chimed in. 

And, bless his heart, Slughorn was far too kind of a soul to be too strict with either of you. He typically had high expectations for those he taught, especially the ones he sought out for his reputable ‘Slug Club,’ but he had a soft spot for his N.E.W.T. students.

“Alright then, well… you and Mr. Lee can write twenty inches together and bring it to me,” he decided in his bumbling voice. 

When he walked away, Heeseung let his shoulders sag. He couldn’t believe he had to write a paper over this—and with you, no less. He should’ve known that he was cursed to stumble upon misfortune again, but, at the same time, he just couldn’t find a way to blame you. Sure, you were the one who took the wrong bottle from the Potions cabinet, but Heeseung really should’ve double-checked the label before he poured it into the cauldron.

“Oh, well,” Sunoo simpered, wearing a proud smirk, “writing about Amortentia shouldn’t be hard for you, huh?”

Heeseung demonstrated his hair loss curse on Sunoo after class.

“I might get a D on my N.E.W.T. for Potions, Hee,” you complained to him later when you both had snuck away to the lakefront to work on your remedial paper. There was a nice patch of grass that Heeseung liked to sit on and contemplate his miserable life, so he figured that he’d share the location with you. “Or maybe even a T—oh, Godric’s Heart.”

“Hey, failing with distinction would be much more impressive than just downright failing,” he tried. 

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.”

Heeseung had a total of four words written on his parchment so far, which happened to be both of your first and last names. He wasn’t sure how he would get to twenty inches without delving into the smells of Amortentia, which he already figured he would need to use a personal anecdote for. He was trying his best to avoid that since it would lead to a rather awkward conversation. 

However, everyone was leaving for Hogsmede shortly, so Heeseung was hoping that you would decide to set aside the rest of the paper for later. 

As if the universe was rubbing Heeseung’s misery in his face, Jake Sim came strutting over in his stupid, perfect robes. (Except it was quite a normal walk; no strutting whatsoever, actually.)

“Just got out of Arithmancy?” you asked him with a gut-wrenching, brilliant smile on your face.

“Yeah, Seunghan and I were heading to Hogsmede with everyone else,” Jake answered before his gaze drifted to Heeseung. Something seemed to light up in his eyes and he started reaching into his robes. “Hey, nice game yesterday! Did you see that, uh… where did I put it…” After some rummaging through his pockets, Jake pulled out a piece of parchment which seemed to be a clipping from the school newspaper. “You made the front page!” 

Heeseung peered to see a moving picture of himself laying on the Quidditch pitch, half-conscious as the Golden Snitch rested in the palm of his hand. Next to him, Sunghoon and Jungwon gave the camera a thumbs-up and feigned shock at the sight of the Seeker on the ground. 

He was definitely going to be sending Riki a Howler. 

“Lovely,” he replied half-heartedly, fighting down a scowl when he realized that Jake wanted him to keep the clipping. “I’ll hang it up with the rest of my collection.”

Jake laughed, even though Heeseung was dead serious. He had an archive of mortifying photographs of him that Riki had taken ever since he stepped onto Hogwarts grounds. Collecting them was intentional, of course; Heeseung needed evidence for the Wizangamot if he planned to sue Nishimura Riki for defamation one day. If Heeseung had known how much of a nuisance the Gryffindor would be, he would’ve plotted for the kid to be sent back home right after his Sorting Ceremony. 

“We have a remedial paper to write,” you told Jake glumly, “so I don’t think we’ll be going to Hogsmede today.”

Jake shrugged. “I’ll see you in the common room later, then.”

“Bye-bye.”

Once Jake walked off to find his friend, Heeseung shot you a dark look. There might have been something warm and soupy in his chest whenever he even looked in your general direction, but he wouldn’t let this slide. 

“I’m not skipping the Hogsmede trip.”

“But we have to finish—”

“But Hogsmede,” he whined. “Can’t we meet in the library after and work on it?”

“I have a Transfiguration quiz I need to study for.” You sounded distressed for a moment, but you quickly brightened up. “Who are you meeting in Hogsmede?”

“Uh, well, no one in particular. Just wanted to check out some stores.”

“Then how about we go together?” you suggested. “We can work on our paper in The Three Broomsticks.”

“Oh.” Heat suddenly rose to Heeseung’s cheeks, and although he desperately tried to convince himself that your proposal did not sound like a date, he couldn’t shake how excited he was to spend some one-on-one time with you. “That works for me.”

On Salazar’s name, Heeseung was going to murder Sunghoon and Jungwon in cold blood.

While you and Heeseung had gotten cozy in an empty booth, brushing shoulders as you two looked over the first paragraph you started, his two dear friends decided to show up where they were clearly unwelcome. Apparently, mouthing get the fuck out of here wasn’t sending the message across.

Sunghoon was on some long tangent about how he barely scraped by on his O.W.L.s, but Slughorn finally gave him the green light to take Alchemy. For some odd reason, Alchemy was only available as a N.E.W.T. class, so Sunghoon had been anxious the whole summer over whether his O.W.L. results would be enough. 

“Didn’t you get five O.W.L.s?” Jungwon asked, bored.

“Six—A in Herbology,” Sunghoon corrected. “I hate plants.”

“Longbottom let you in with an Acceptable?” Heeseung raised his brows with mild interest, but he quickly steeled his expression. He was not entertaining their company, no. He started practicing the fine art of Legilimency to send a message to Sunghoon: go away, go away, go away, go away.

“He said he was especially impressed that I got into his N.E.W.T. class.”

“Oh, yeah,” you spoke up, pointing at Sunghoon. “Yizhuo told me she had no idea you were in her class until you showed up for exams.”

“I also didn’t realize she was in my class until you mentioned that.”

“How’d you even pass?” Heeseung asked.

“No clue,” Sunghoon replied honestly. “The exam was fine, but I thought the practical would be the end for me. Turns out I’m a natural. They even clapped after I ripped the leaves off a Venomous Tentacula. Like, big deal, it’s a plant.” 

Everyone at the table froze. Heeseung practically jumped seconds later, hitting his leg against the underside of the table. He had long abandoned his goal of kicking Sunghoon and Jungwon out of The Three Broomsticks. You choked on your butterbeer, wiping some of the foam off your chin. Jungwon’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. Heeseung’s knee hit the underside of the table, suppressing a groan. There was a shuffle below.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you ducking under the table for a moment. However, he was too astounded by Sunghoon’s story to divert the topic. 

Heeseung set his butterbeer down and asked, “You just walked over and used your bare hands?”

“I suppose not showing up to class has its upsides,” Jungwon said. “Ignorance is bliss.”

“Sunghoon, do you even know what a Venomous Tentacula does?” you asked.

“What? Photosynthesis?” 

“Well, other than the snapping jaws that can either stun or kill you, and the vines reaching out to strangle you when you’re least expecting it,” Jungwon started (which didn't sound like a very pleasant start, to be honest), “there's also the venom that shoots out from its sprouts—oh, and the thorns that can kill you if you prick your finger.”

Sunghoon looked disturbed before muttering to Heeseung, “And they call Hogwarts the safest school on Earth. What a joke.”

You excused yourself shortly after the conversation came to an end, claiming that you spotted a friend a few tables over. Heeseung pretended to listen to Sunghoon and Jungwon trying to guess how old Professor Binns was, but really he was keeping an eye on you. Minjeong was whispering something to you, paused when you wrapped your arms around her, and then turned her neck to say something with sudden enthusiasm. 

Heeseung wondered how it would feel if he was sitting in that seat instead of Kim Minjeong, if your arms were draped around his shoulders like that. He thought of your hair falling into his face, how he’d brush it away and turn his head to kiss you—

Dangerous waters, he warned himself. Do not go there.

“Every time I ask him—and, mind you, it was only a couple of times—he falls asleep before he can even give me an answer!” Sunghoon complained, bringing Heeseung’s attention back to the topic of the ancient History of Magic professor. “Heeseung, has he ever told your class how old he is?”

“Couple hundred years probably,” he answered. “Can you guys leave now?”

They gawked at him, offended. 

Now Heeseung had realized he had driven himself into a corner. He couldn’t tell them the real reason why he wanted them to leave. If his friends found out that he wanted to spend time with you alone, then they would misconstrue the situation into something involving feelings—something which Lee Heeseung might have had but refused to admit out loud or to himself. 

“You two have been distracting us from finishing our paper,” he said instead, pointing at their unfinished essay. “Twenty inches! And we hardly have two.”

Jungwon, who saw right through him, asked, “You just wanna spend time with Y/N, don’t you?”

Heeseung coughed loudly, as if that would cover up whatever the Slytherin just said. “What?”

“It’s so obvious,” Sunghoon said. “Would we really be your best friends if we couldn’t pick up on who you’re into?”

“I am not into—” Heeseung paused to weigh his words. His recent revelation brought him to the point of no return; he couldn’t just lie about how he felt now. He threw an anxious look over his shoulder to make sure you were still preoccupied with Minjeong. “We have a paper to write.”

Sunghoon threw his head back to laugh. “See? You can’t even deny it.”

“It doesn’t even matter; she’s into Jake.”

They went silent. Glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes. 

“Jake Sim?” Jungwon asked. “And Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Jake Sim… and Y/N.”

“Yes,” Heeseung repeated with impatience seeping past his teeth. 

“What makes you think she’s into Jake?”

“Uh…” Heeseung was now irritated that he was being put on the spot because nothing was coming to mind. He just thought of you and Jake laughing together in the courtyard and jealousy wrapped tight around his heart. “I saw them together.”

“I saw you in Filch’s office the other day,” Sunghoon said. “Are you two a thing?”

Heeseung scowled at him, but before he could fire back at his friend, Jungwon said, “Just tell us you want us to leave so you can spend time with Y/N, and we’ll go.” A sly grin spread across his face, and he scarily resembled Kim Sunoo at that very moment. “You should probably make up your mind before she gets back.”

Struggling for a way out of this situation, Heeseung gave them both dirty looks. He had no choice but to give Jungwon and Sunghoon what they wanted. You were going to wrap your conversation up with Minjeong any minute now, so he had to act now before his friends terrorized him for the rest of their Hogsmede trip. 

“Fine,” he said sharply. “I wanna spend time with Y/N alone, so leave.”

Right on command, the two boys made a big scene about having to leave, throwing their hands up in exasperation and getting to their feet slowly. Sunghoon shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as if it was a pain for them to be ordered around. Heeseung sank back into his seat in embarrassment. 

“Alright, alright, we’ll go,” Sunghoon drawled, “but you better tell us all the details after.”

Heeseung gave them his word, even though he was sure the update would simply be finishing their essay. Once Jungwon and Sunghoon strode out of the pub, he turned his gaze back to Minjeong’s table. For a moment, he just watched how your hair shone under the warm lighting. Heeseung had to avert his eyes when you turned around again to walk back to his table. There was a strange look on your face, like you were trying to work through a puzzle in your head. 

“Where’d the others go?”

For the entirety of their Hogsmede excursion, Heeseung had been trying his hardest not to look at you when you were so close to him. Now, though, with his friends gone, it was just you and him sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder. 

He realized he was staring at your lips instead of answering your question. He licked his lips involuntarily and looked away. 

“Uh, went to check out some stores, I think,” he lied. “Should we get back to work?”

Slightly distracted, you replied, “Yes, let’s.”

The remedial paper was finally at an impressive twenty inches by the time you and Heeseung thought it would be best to start walking back to the school.

There weren’t many students around anymore as most people didn’t want to miss dinner in the Great Hall. Heeseung felt like something was off. You were focused on the paper the entire time, hardly engaging in any side conversation or recalling some fun memory. When you two ran out of things to write about Amortentia and stumbled upon the topic of describing its scent, Heeseung managed to steer away from writing about how the potion smelled for him. Instead, you two went for a more informational route with zero personal anecdotes.

The walk back to the castle was long, but Heeseung really hadn’t expected you to bring up the topic of Amortentia again. He thought hours of writing a paper on the potion would put you off of it for a long period of time. 

“So, you remember Slughorn showing us the love potion in class, right?” you started timidly while the two of you were crossing a bridge in Hogsmede. You didn’t even let Heeseung get to the trail to Hogwarts before you started your interrogation. “What’d it smell like for you?”

Fuck.

Why was everyone so interested in what the Amortentia smelled like for him? It wasn’t supposed to be some groundbreaking piece of information, and it wasn’t a big deal that it smelled like your signature scent! There were far more interesting things to converse about, like how nicely the leaves were arranged on the trees, or how interesting of a shade the sky was. 

But there was no way for him to avoid this question—not when you were staring at him so adamantly—so he resorted to lying. A white lie never hurt anyone, after all. Or, well, anyone important. 

“Like… books,” he answered, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. 

“Maybe you and the librarian are meant to be,” you teased.

“I guess sneaking into the restricted section makes the heart grow fond.” 

You laughed, and, Merlin’s beard, what a melody. Heeseung could listen to your voice all day. Preferably on a warm day while he was stretched out on some grass with your head on his lap, or maybe he’d like to be laying on your lap. Either way, he would be perfectly content just listening to you talk his ear off until—

“Y’know, that’s funny ‘cause… well, you wrote lavender here,” you said, chewing on the inside of your cheek and holding the very scrap of parchment that was supposed to be tucked away in Heeseung’s pocket.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to shut himself in the Slytherin common room and never hear you speak to him again.

In the couple of seconds he was malfunctioning for, many thoughts raced through Heeseung’s head.

First, he wondered if there was still time left to request a Ministry-issued Time-Turner under the guise that he would use it for his classes. Instead, its intended purpose would be to reverse time until Heeseung had somehow gotten himself out of this situation or destroyed that stupid piece of parchment.

The second revelation that struck him was that he must have dropped the paper in The Three Broomsticks. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he hit his knee under the table. There was a moment when he noticed you picking something up from the floor, but he hadn’t dwelled on it, expecting it to have just been a napkin. 

Lastly, he had gone extremely still—to the point of halting in his tracks and staring at you, wide-eyed. His body had completely seized up to the point where he almost thought he was shaking. Shaking—but he was shaking. He was shaking all over. Or maybe he wasn’t. He couldn’t tell. Heeseung clenched a fist to make sure he had control over his body. 

“Heeseung?”

You stopped walking, too, looking at him curiously. For a moment, it looked like you were going to apologize for reading what he wrote down, but you looked down at it again.

“Did the love potion smell like lavender?” you asked in a soft voice. Looking visibly flustered, you said in a rush, “I’m just asking because Minjeong said I always, uh… smell like lavender, and I just thought…” 

He needed to run. He needed to get out of here. He needed to disappear.

Heeseung felt like his blood was rushing through his ears, pumping so loud that he couldn’t hear anything but his heartbeat for a moment. You were saying something, but he couldn’t even make out the words your lips framed. The world had slowed down, and Heeseung wasn’t quite sure if his feet were planted firmly on the ground. 

He would have rather been anywhere else—maybe at Sunghoon’s house where his mother’s baked goods wafted from her kitchen window. He could envision the meadow right behind their house and how he spent the summer in the grass, practicing Quidditch with Sunghoon and his little sister. Jongseong would arrive days later to complain about his O.W.L.s for three hours straight until Sunghoon and Heeseung felt the life oozing out of their bodies. 

But here, with your eyes sparkling with determination, Heeseung felt like he was about to melt into a puddle. He was consumed with the ungodly urge to grab ahold of you and kiss you until his blood felt like electricity in his veins. Yes, he needed to be anywhere but here—anywhere where his feelings weren’t worn on his sleeve for the world to see. 

You started again, “Heeseung—”

Before you could get anything else out, Heeseung, who was overcome with the will to escape, felt something pulling him from behind. In a flash, he was whisked out of thin air with a tug behind his navel, leaving you gobsmacked and stranded in Hogsmede. 

He felt like he was being pushed through a thin vortex, squeezed by the fabric of reality tearing and reshaping itself around him. It took him some gasping breaths to get lungfuls of air into his body, but once he could breathe right again, he realized he was definitely not in Hogsmede.

“Excuse me?” Heeseung asked a nearby townsperson who was walking past him. He must have looked ridiculous in his Hogwarts robes, body awkwardly sprawled over two bales of hay. “Where am I?”

“Feldcroft,” the wizard answered.

He Apparated to Sunghoon’s hometown.

Not only did Heeseung spend thirty minutes trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, but he was late for dinner. You were long gone, of course, but it seemed like you hadn’t exactly abandoned Heeseung. When he arrived on school grounds, Slughorn and McGonagall were waiting for him at the gate. This was definitely going to earn him a detention or two. 

Apparently, you ran back to school to tell McGonagall about what happened. The headmistress also noted that you were sobbing because you were convinced that it was your fault somehow. You happened to be under the belief that Heeseung wouldn’t know how to get back, which he couldn’t argue with because he considered himself lucky to Apparate back without splinching himself. 

After receiving a lecture from both professors about the dangers of Apparating unsupervised, Heeseung received two punishments: one week of detention and he wasn’t allowed to go on the next Hogsmede trip. However, he also received a pat on the back from Slughorn and a congratulations from McGonagall for a successful Apparition. 

When he recounted the story to Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo in the common room the following morning, they were howling with laughter. He had to pause approximately four times for them to catch their breaths.

“It’s not that funny,” Heeseung deadpanned.

Sunoo, who was wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, replied, “It’s kinda funny.”

Sunoo was also missing several patches of hair, which Heeseung generously didn’t point out. 

“Did my mom give you anything to bring back?” Sunghoon inquired. “I’ve been craving her tarts.”

“I didn’t exactly have time to drop by your mom’s and pick up some tarts! I was trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, if that wasn’t already clear!”

“On the bright side,” Jungwon said, “you’ll probably pass your Apparition exam now. Sunghoon lost half an eyebrow while he was practicing yesterday.”

Sunghoon, with one and a half eyebrows, grimaced.

“So, you left Y/N hanging and she had to walk back alone?” Sunoo asked, tutting lightly as he shook his head. “Now you stand no chance of asking her out.”

Heeseung tried to cover up how taken aback he was by coughing into his arm, expertly hiding his reddening cheeks from his friends. “It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh,” Jungwon said. “So, you’d be perfectly fine with Y/N going out with Jake?”

Heeseung’s face turned sour as he turned to look at the Slytherin. “She’s going out with who?” 

“It’s a hypothetical question.”

“Well… who she goes out with is none of my business.”

Sunghoon barked out a laugh. “Then why’d you get so worked up?”

“I’m not getting worked up,” Heeseung replied firmly, huffing as he got to his feet. “I simply don’t think she and Jake Sim are compatible, but my opinion’s got nothing to do with her.”

“Yeah?” A ghost of a smirk was plastered across Sunoo’s face. “Why don’t you think they’re compatible?”

There was a fire in the center of Heeseung’s chest, blazing and scorching his heart. He felt as if he would pass out from the immense pressure in his chest, but then his body felt so hot that everything seemed to slip away. He thought of you and Jake again, thinking about how you smiled up at him in a way Heeseung had never seen you smile at him.

The fire in his chest raged. 

“Because I exist,” he answered loudly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class to attend.”

Whether they were awestruck or dumbfounded, Heeseung’s friends watched him leave the common room with crooked grins on their faces. He was extremely satisfied that he managed to get his two cents in without his voice cracking or wavering.

After Sunghoon was left in the common room with Sunoo and Jungwon, he slumped back in his seat and asked, “Since when did he go to class?”

Defense Against the Dark Arts was Heeseung’s favorite class. Not because he particularly enjoyed dueling or any violence of the sort, but because Professor Weasley was the only teacher who didn’t assign papers every other day. He preferred a more hands-on teaching method, which usually involved partnering up and practicing spells on fellow classmates.

Plus, when Heeseung was in moods like these—moods where he felt like he was going to burst into flames much like a phoenix would—he looked forward to blasting someone across the room. Someone preferably like Jung Sungchan, who didn’t take it personally when he conjured columns of fire in rapid succession. 

Because he was so hot with unexplained anger and unrestrained emotion, Heeseung had to set the record straight (evidently for himself, too) that he most definitely harbored romantic feelings for you.

Admittedly, this was clear after he smelled the Amortentia, but Heseung refused to allow Potions to be the class that made him aware that he was in love. He could almost envision Slughorn taking credit for his future wedding, and the very thought made him shudder. 

The fire in Heeseung’s chest grew into more of a wildfire tearing through his body once he saw Jake Sim in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He completely forgot that Jake took this class, too. The cherry on top was that Jake and Seunghan decided to sit at the desk right behind Heeseung and Sungchan, so he could hardly focus on Sungchan rattling on about Trelawny giving him detention when he was trying his hardest to eavesdrop on Jake’s conversation.

Right when Heeseung heard Jake talking about something potentially dark and dangerous (buying a Pygmy Puff), Professor Weasley raised his wand to signal that he was starting class. 

He started discussing familial curses, which Heeseung found especially interesting because he had almost considered a career path as a Curse-Breaker. It was a dangerous line of work, according to Professor Weasley, who used to be one himself before the second wizarding war, but Heeseung thought it was an honorable job to help remove dangerous curses.

Professor Weasley decided to stray from his usual ‘partner up with the person next to you’ and instead asked everyone to practice the Shield Charm with another student who was sitting around them. This, in turn, made Heeseung’s heart drop to his stomach.

If Sungchan wasn’t an option, then Heeseung was hoping he could partner with Seunghan. He quite liked the Hufflepuff, despite him being friends with the public enemy named Jake Sim. Seunghan had always been fun to talk to, and they became closer in fifth year when they were both sent to the infirmary and had beds next to each other. Madam Pomfrey was eventually tired of the two boys practicing jinxes on each other. 

Sungchan and Seunghan partnered up almost immediately, and then the girl sitting in front of Heeseung had run off to her friend as soon as the words slipped from Professor Weasley’s mouth. There was no one else for him to turn to—no one but Jake.

“Do you have a partner yet?” Jake asked shyly, and Heeseung had to fight down a bitter retort; obviously he didn’t have a partner, or he would’ve gotten up by now. “We can practice together, if you want.”

Heeseung reluctantly got to his feet. “Sure.”

They were an odd pairing, for sure. Heeseung couldn’t help but feel awkward around Jake, and it seemed as if Jake felt the same way, even though he did his best to be overly-friendly. 

Jake decided to be the one defending himself first, so Heeseung was graced with the opportunity to cast offensive spells at him all he wanted. He was having far too much fun casting Expelliarmus and Stupefy at Jake and watching the Hufflepuff draw his wand up just in time to shield himself. 

“You’re really good at this!” Jake said, eyes wide with what Heeseung assumed was fear. “Do you duel often?”

“Not really,” he answered. “I just have good aim.”

“Quidditch.” He made the connection quickly with a far too happy look on his face. “I’ve seen you fly. You’re really good.”

Quit playing nice! Heeseung was yelling at him in his head. It was proving quite difficult to viciously attack the Hufflepuff while receiving compliments in return.

“Yeah?” Heeseung gritted his teeth. “Do you watch Y/N—Stupefy!—play?”

“Y/N?” Jake looked confused for a moment, but his smile never faltered. “Yeah, of course! I always support Hufflepuff.”

Oh, right. They were in the same house. Logically, this was where Heeseung should’ve backed off, but jealousy seized him by the throat and made his head go funny.

He sent another streak of orange light flying in Jake’s direction, aiming right for his perfect hair. Jake deflected it. 

“Anyway,” Jake continued as he started to get the hang of performing wandless magic, “you guys are playing against Gryffindor next, right? I really think Slytherin’s gonna win. I mean, you guys have such a strong team, and…” 

As he kept droning on about how great the Slytherin Quidditch team was, Heeseung couldn't help but feel a bit confused. He was here to intimidate the Hufflepuff, but now he felt like he was at some sort of meet and greet. Why was Jake so bent on praising the Slytherin team? Heeseung assumed that the whole incentive for Quidditch games was for house pride, but Jake seemed to be taking it way too seriously. 

Come to think of it, Heeseung did find it strange that Jake had that defamatory newspaper clipping of Heeseung injured on the ground. Why would he specifically go looking for an article of the Slytherin team’s victory?

Heeseung lowered his wand when he heard a yelp to his right. Hong Seunghan had his wand raised over his head, a nearly-invisible shield circling his body that Heeseung could vaguely make out under the lamp light. 

“Watch it! This isn’t target practice, Heeseung!” Seunghan cried, looking absolutely distressed as he hastily adjusted his yellow-trimmed robes.

Heeseung’s Stunning Spell would’ve hit Seunghan if he hadn’t reacted in time. On one hand, he felt bad; on the other hand, he really thought Seunghan should’ve been patting himself on the back for his quick reaction time instead.

“My bad,” Heeseung mumbled. So much for his so-called good aim.

“And you,” Seunghan said—to Jake, this time, “stop distracting him with all your Quidditch talk!” 

Yeah, you tell him, Seunghan, thought Heeseung, who actually quite enjoyed talking about Quidditch.

To his surprise, Jake’s face started to flush pink. “I-I’m not trying to distract him or anything… I was just making conversation.” 

Seunghan threw him a lazy smirk before turning back to Heeseung and rolling his eyes playfully. “Put him out of his misery and set him up with your friend, will you?” 

“What?” Heeseung couldn’t stop himself from fuming at Seunghan’s words. The fire in his chest ignited once more, blazing with the heat of a thousand suns. 

Sungchan, who had been waiting patiently to attack Seunghan, rubbed the back of his neck. “Er—can we get back to—”

“Seunghan, drop it already,” Jake pleaded, his voice growing smaller and smaller. “It’s not happening.”

Seunghan shrugged and returned to blocking Sungchan’s attacks. The two of them seemed to be having fun with the exercise, at least. Heeseung and Jake were a disaster; Heeseung was far too vexed to think straight, and Jake was as bashful as a first year.

“You can ask her yourself, you know,” Heeseung said coldly, shooting a jet of red light in Jake’s direction. Jake barely managed to cast his shield in time to deflect Heeseung’s spell.

“I can’t,” Jake replied, all meek and timid again, which made Heeseung’s blood boil. 

He saw how comfortable Jake was around you, so why was he acting like this now? He was comfortable enough to walk up to you while you were with another guy; he was comfortable enough to keep eye contact while you smiled so radiantly at him; and he was comfortable enough to ask you to go to Hogsmede with him, so why was this such a big deal? 

Heeseung felt sick to his stomach. He wanted this class to be over so that he could go to his dormitory and wallow in his miserable state.

Jake sighed wistfully. “She probably has no idea I even exist.”

Heeseung blanked. 

He tossed around Jake’s words in his head a couple of times, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Heeseung perfectly understood being shy around a crush, but wasn’t this a bit much? From what he had observed, you most definitely knew of Jake’s existence.

Still confused, Heeseung replied, “I’m pretty sure she does.”

“Really?” Jake’s voice was louder, more hopeful. “She does? I mean, I guess she has to know I exist since we’re in the same class and all, but has she… has she ever mentioned me?”

Heeseung wondered if he should just stun Jake and leave class early.

Deciding against it for the sake of not receiving another week of detention, he answered, “Well, yeah, a couple of times.”

“Really? What did she say?”

“Uh…” Heeseung scratched his head as he tried to remember. “Something about telling you how I set off Dungbombs in Filch’s office.”

It was Jake’s turn to look confused. 

“That was Y/N,” he said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Wait, did you think I was talking about Y/N this whole time?”

Heeseung had to duck this time when his spell rebounded off of Jake’s shield and went flying in his direction. He stood up straight again, this time with his eyebrows furrowed and his ears bright red from realizing that he was about to embarrass himself yet again. 

“You’re not?” he asked.

“No!”

“Then who are you talking about?” 

“M-Minjeong,” Jake stammered out. “Kim Minjeong.”

Heeseung stared at him. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if this was reality; this could have all been some hyper-realistic dream—one of those absurd ones that hardly made sense but left him gasping for air when he woke up. 

But Heeseung’s feet were planted firmly on the ground and he had all ten of his fingers, so this couldn’t be a dream. Yet, when he drew in a shuddering breath, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was very wrong about this whole thing. Had he really been wrong about Jake Sim this entire time?

Also Minjeong? When he was friends with you? Heeseung wasn’t one to judge people’s tastes, but he’d swim oceans for you yet hardly cross a puddle for Minjeong. (Perhaps that was just because he resented the Slytherin girl for always making fun of his Quidditch screw-ups.)

So that was why Jake had been overly-invested in the Slytherin team. He wasn’t a Quidditch-fanatic whose house pride flew out the window; he was just harboring a crush this whole time! Heeseung was so relieved that the inferno in his chest had quelled. 

In fact, he was so relieved that he let out a shaky laugh without having half the mind to hold it in. Jake must have thought Heeseung was making fun of his crush, but Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh and laugh about how pathetic he had been this whole time. He had lost sleep over Jake Sim, only for him to like someone completely different. 

How ridiculous.

Heeseung crossed the distance between them and patted him firmly on the back, taking the Hufflepuff by surprise. “Minjeong, huh? I’ll introduce you.”

Jake’s eyes shone. “You will?”

“Of course I will. Now, tell me,” Heeseung started, his voice taking on a serious edge as he slung an arm around Jake’s shoulders, “where did you get your robes?”

It was such a lovely day outside; the grass was greener, the skies were bluer, and there wasn’t a single cloud in sight—perfect weather to fly. Heeseung could even hear the birds singing as he strode down the hallway, trying very, very hard to keep himself from skipping. 

He wasn’t even trying to eavesdrop, but he picked up on the conversation a couple of fifth years were having nearby.

"—heard they both had to go to the infirmary!” one of them whispered to the other. “It was that bad!”

“Over a silly game?” The other girl, who Heeseung named Girl Two in his head, scoffed. “I’ll never understand Quidditch.”

Girl One shook her head. “Not over the game. It was over Lee Heeseung.”

Heeseung, who was slowly realizing that he was the Lee Heeseung they were gossiping about, suddenly felt very engaged in this conversation that he wasn’t part of. His guilty pleasure happened to be listening in on all of the scandalous happenings at Hogwarts. For him to be indirectly involved was even more exciting.

“Lee Heeseung?” Girl Two frowned. “Why would Y/N pick a fight over Lee Heeseung?”

He nearly tripped over his own feet. Heeseung had to scurry behind a pillar before anyone saw him blushing like a madman, but now he was worried about how strange it looked for him to be spying on a couple of fifth years from behind a pillar. 

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. You fought someone? And you were in the infirmary? His sick happiness was quickly replaced with dreadful worry. 

(But he also wasn’t too worried; you could clearly handle your own.)

“No clue,” Girl One said. “I suppose they’re dating.”

Heeseung couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping his lips. He clamped a hand over his mouth as soon as it slipped out, and Girl One and Girl Two looked around suspiciously. 

“Who was that?” Girl Two asked sharply. 

“Must be that Ravenclaw girl,” Girl One replied bitterly, taking her wand out of her robes.

Heeseung had no idea who ‘that Ravenclaw girl’ was referring to, but he knew that he was no longer safe in their vicinity. After casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he fled the scene immediately, only removing the charm once he was safely down the hall. 

He hadn’t even realized his heart was racing faster than it ever had in his life until he found himself sprinting in the direction of the infirmary. 

“Mr. Lee, no running in the halls!” Professor Longbottom cried over his shoulder, gripping the pot of a Mandrake tightly. “That’ll be five points from—oh, forget it.”

Madam Pomfrey looked unsurprised to see Heeseung walking in, all sweaty and panting. She simply pointed in the direction of where your bed was and walked off to tend to some second year who, judging by the twigs in his hair, decided to test his luck with the Whomping Willow.

You were sulking in bed, turned on your side so that your back was facing Heeseung. It looked like you were mostly unscathed, but when Heeseung rounded the corner of your bed, all he could see was red when he noticed the cut on your lip and gash on your cheek. 

“Heeseung!” you gasped, sitting up straight so that you could swing your legs off the bed. “How’d you know—”

“Who did this?” he asked angrily, drawing out his wand and looking around the infirmary. He remembered Girl One saying that both parties were sent to the infirmary, so they must have still been around. “Who hurt you?”

“It’s not that bad, I just—”

“Not that bad?” he repeated louder. “You’re hurt!”

“It’s not that bad,” you said again, quieter. You held onto Heeseung’s bicep with gentle hands, which happened to immediately calm him down. “Sit.”

Heeseung sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed. He had felt remarkably happier after finding out that Jake did not, in fact, have a thing for you, but now he was riled up again. He wondered what you thought about Jake, but then Heeseung wondered why you were picking fights over him.

“It was the Seeker from the Gryffindor team,” you told him in an oddly calm voice, although he couldn’t help but notice how you were fiddling with your fingers too much. “She was talking down on you during class, so I picked an argument with her after class. That’s how I got these.” You pointed at the cuts on your lower lip and cheek. 

“But you don’t need to worry about her; she’s worse off than I am. I got her with a knee-reversal hex,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Let’s see how she flies after this.”

Heeseung stared at you. “You’re insane.”

“I believe the words you’re looking for are thank—”

“I love you.”

He believed he said it very, very softly, but his words echoed in his head so loudly that Heeseung couldn’t be completely sure that he hadn’t yelled it for the infirmary to hear. If it weren’t for the second year complaining loudly about how unsafe it was to have a murderous tree on school grounds, then Heeseung was sure the room would have been dead silent following his confession. 

You didn’t move. The worst was happening right now; Heeseung had boldly blurted out his feelings just for you to not answer him and soon hate him for the rest of your life. It was fine. You two would graduate soon. He would no longer have to see you again, even though the smell of lavender would be a constant reminder of his first love and first heartbreak. He would die alone now. Oh, and he’d have to tell his parents with deep regret that they would not have grandchildren. 

“Heeseung,” you whispered, and your lips started framing soundless words that you couldn’t get out.

The cat was out of the bag, so all Heeseung could do was stand up and own up to his words.

“You were right,” he said. “My Amortentia did smell like lavender—like you.”

He grabbed the rag on the table next to your bed, soaking it in water and wringing it out. Normally, Heeseung would have been shaking like a leaf, but he was oddly calm as he delicately held your chin, tilting your head to the side enough to get a good look at you. 

“I must’ve fallen in love with you years ago—maybe even from the first time you tripped me at the Sorting Hat Ceremony,” he said softly as he dabbed at your fresh cut, and although your eyes were wide and glossy, you hardly even flinched. Heeseung was pretty sure he had never even admitted what he said out loud to himself. When he was done and set the rag aside, he said, “So… glad I got that out before I kept it to myself for the rest of my life. I’ll get going now and hopefully not kill myself on the way.”

He hurried past Madam Pomfrey, making eye contact with no one except the Gryffindor Seeker, whose knees were bent at an awkward angle. She leered at him, to which Heeseung paid no attention because he had far bigger things to worry about, like the fact that his life was over.

Before he got all the way down the hall, though, he heard footsteps getting louder and louder. When he turned to see you speeding after him, Heeseung panicked and started running himself. 

“Why are you running?!” you cried.

“Why are you chasing me?!” he yelled back. 

“Stop running! Get over here, Lee Heeseung!”

“No!” He was very embarrassed to note that his voice did indeed crack. “I’m scared!”

“Colloshoo!” 

It was like he had rammed right into a wall. Heeseung felt like his shoes were glued to the floor, and, with a grunt, he ended up falling forward and landing on his face when they wouldn’t budge. If only you had waited to hex him after he reached the grassy outdoors instead of the hard, stone flooring of the breezeway. 

“You hexed me!” He turned to look at you, exasperated. “How could you hex me after hexing someone for me?!”

“Now stay there.”

“No.” Stubborn, Heeseung started walking ahead—right down to the Great Lake so that he could wallow in embarrassment in that particularly nice patch of grass. He abandoned his shoes and trudged ahead in his socks. “And don’t follow me!”

“Heeseung,” you warned. 

He groaned and turned on you just before he was looking forward to sitting down on the grass, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You—you’re terrible luck, you know that? Sheer bad luck. You know I’ve lived eleven years of my life perfectly fine until you showed up? Suddenly, everything goes wrong when I’m around you! And it’s not just missing the Hogwarts Express or blowing up a potion, it’s everything else!”

You calmly listened to him as he continued in his wild craze, “I can hardly breathe when I’m around you! I can’t even look at you for too long, or else I’ll probably combust. You make it so impossible for me to stay away from you, even though the very thing I need for the sake of my sanity is to stay away from you!”

“Are you done now?” you asked calmly, not quite breathing as hard as he was, but your chest was still rising and falling as if you were winded from running. 

“Yes,” he said, “so I’ll go drown myself in the—”

Before he could finish the rest of his sentence, you grabbed Heeseung by the front of his robes and pulled him down to kiss him senseless. He thought he had been hit with a Stunning Spell from how still he was, but when he realized that this was real life and you were indeed kissing him, his hand made its way to cradle your jaw as he kissed you back with searing passion.

He was ashamed to say that he had dreamt about this scenario many times, charted all of his next moves in great detail, and fantasized about doing much more than he’d like to admit. Heeseung felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, but he kept his lips pressed to yours like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. 

This was everything and more than he ever expected. He was certain he could never grow tired of the taste of your lips, and he was honestly scolding himself for not having done this sooner. 

Your arms naturally found their way around his neck, and Heeseung took that as his cue to drop his to your waist. Still locked in a tight embrace, you pulled away to catch your breath, leaving Heeseung to chase after your lips.

“—Great Lake,” he finished his sentence in a breath, “and hopefully get eaten by the Giant Squid—”

“Oh, shut up,” you cut him off to kiss him again. 

Heeseung had no further objections. He supposed this meant that he had the shiny new title of being your boyfriend, which he considered a higher honor than Quidditch Captain. This was saying a lot because Quidditch Captains got to use the really nice bathrooms.

Your kiss was slower this time, as if you both realized you had all the time in the world. And when you both finally broke apart, Heeseung let his fingers trace the outline of your lips to commit its shape to memory. 

This time when you smiled, it was far brighter than any Patronus Charm he had ever seen.

“I love you, too,” you told him with a shy grin. “Always have.” 

“Seriously?”

“Since our first year. Tripping you was by accident, of course. I just thought you were cute.” 

Heeseung was pretty sure the average wizard's heart couldn’t handle this overload of emotions. In a few seconds, he was sure he would need to be admitted to the infirmary himself. 

Then, you punched his shoulder. Hard.

“If you didn’t Disapparate on the spot back in Hogsmede, then maybe I could've told you sooner!” 

“It’s not like I wanted to Apparate away, but… but you put me on the spot!” he exclaimed. Heeseung let his shoulders sag. “Either way, I thought you liked Jake.”

“Jake?” You looked confused before you burst into laughter. “What made you think I liked Jake? He’s so clearly into Minjeong!”

It seemed to be that everyone thought the notion of Jake and you liking each other was absolutely ridiculous. If it wasn’t too late, Heeseung was up for pitching himself in the depths of the Great Lake.

Girl One and Girl Two would surely get a kick out of this. 

“Okay, I get it. I’m stupid,” he said, but you wouldn't stop laughing. Heeseung sighed heavily as you wiped tears from the corners of your eyes. “Alright, that’s it, you’re so getting it.”

This time, he grabbed hold of your face (gently, of course, because he didn't want to add pressure to your gash), and he peppered kisses all over your face. You scrunched up your nose, giggling as Heeseung kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and then finally your lips. 

And this—this moment he had been anticipating for seven years—was loads better than letting the Giant Squid eat him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ the next morning, heeseung wakes up and basks in the afterglow of finally confessing to the girl of his dreams!! jay hands him the paper during breakfast and a picture of his shoes glued to the floor is on the front cover. anyways i hope you liked this fic!! so fun to write because i'm deep in a harry potter phase (how did this happen??) but happy valentine's day & thank you for reading <3

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[hrtbreakanniversary]

heart - shaped scallion found In pho . reblog for good luck & yummy soup 500000 forwver

[hrtbreakanniversary]

[hrtbreakanniversary]

feeling everything rn

butterfly lovers opla zoro screaming crying throwing up

butterfly lovers

opla!zoro; 7,106 words; fluff, kind of childhood friends to lovers, slowburn af, nsfw, pron with TOO MUCH plot, opla!canon divergence, ships doctor!reader, fem!reader, riding, "good girl", emotional sex

summary: yours and zoro's story, from two different perspectives.

a/n: @halfvalid this is ur fault. take responsibility pls. also the smut is literally just one part of a larger story, but it does actually get explicit so. do with that info what u will u__u.

false start.

most good stories, scholars and storytellers would both agree, have a beginning, a middle, and an end. though, famously, not necessarily in that order. and this particular story — well, it has several places one might call the beginning. and one of them is here — in shimotsuki village, in a patch of rich green forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and earth.

it would be a lie to say that the story begins here, at a doujou where eight year old boys and nine year old girls swing wooden swords hundreds of thousands of times each day. where you’d seen zoro for the very first time.

the story could have started here, but alas, it did not.

because you see, you’d never been great, or even particularly good at swordsmanship. and zoro — zoro was one of the best. even from the beginning, his raw, unfettered talent was a force to be reckoned with. but the reckoning came in the form of the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, and you were no more part of zoro’s story then than a drop of ink in a midnight ocean — lost to the tumultuous waves of childhood tedium, of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

but you’d known him then, watched him as he grew, as he got better and better and better. bigger, stronger, quicker, sharper. and beside him was kuina, steady as the shifting tides, relentless in her efficacy, tireless in her craft. he was good, but she was better.

until one day, when very suddenly, she wasn’t.

the story, as it is, does not start here, because you’d made the solemn walk to kuina’s funeral altar with the rest of the students at the doujou in complete silence, had knelt there in equal silence and watched as sensei had bestowed the wadou ichimonji upon zoro, watched as he had gripped the sword with both hands, his knuckles going white as the sword’s moon-washed sheath, and bowed his head in acceptance.

it does not start here because later, instead of following the same, silent procession of kids back to the doujou’s main compound, you’d slipped away, silent as a shadow, and sprinted through the wide, cedar forest to a secret, open patch of grass where the sun bled from a stretch of endless sky blue enough to sting, and tiny little white-petaled flowers had sprung from the still-damp earth, turning their faces towards the coming spring.

you’d run, screaming through the field till you’d run out of breath to scream with, and collapsed among the tiny white flowers, panting and staring up at the endless blue sky, feeling the helplessness pulse through your veins. because even though kuina hadn’t been your friend — you’d exchanged perhaps a handful of words in all the years you’d spent here — she’d been a constant presence in your life. and now, she was gone. and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

you laid there for longer than you can remember, and then, as the sun finally dipped beyond the far horizon and the darkness grew longer than the sea was wide, you got up and trudged towards the clearing’s edge. only to find a small creature huddled against the trunk of a thin sapling tree — it looked like nothing more than a bundle of white-spotted fur, and it took you a long moment to realize that it was a fawn, curled into a pile of gnarled roots, shivering, eye wet and wide and terrified.

you blinked, staring at it for a few seconds before you’d noticed the gash on it’s hind leg, jutting out at an uncomfortable angle. your heart had stuttered inside your chest, and you’d dropped down to your hands and knees, cooing softly as you slowly approached the creature, trying to look as unmenacing as possible.

“hey there… are you hurt?” you’d said, crawling towards it, trying very hard to make your movements as slow and smooth as possible.

the fawn shivered as it stares at you, apparently caught between sheer terror and curiosity. you tried to smile, before digging into your pockets and pulling out a handful of peanuts, offering them to the fawn on an open palm.

“c’mon, i’m not gonna hurt you… i just wanna take a look… at that leg of yours, can i do that?” you’d asked, inching in closer and closer until the fawn’s warm, wet nose dug into your palm, it’s smooth-edged teeth grazing your skin as it crunched through the peanuts. you took the chance to glance down at it’s injured leg — it wasn’t a deep wound, but judging by the angle, it was a bit dislocated and would need to be set back right if the fawn was ever going to walk again.

slowly, you reached out a free hand to gently stroke at the fawns haunches, feeling it’s muscles tense up beneath you, even as it continues to snuffle against your palm, eager for any remnants of the peanut shells. you ran your hand along it’s leg and quick as a flash, you pressed against the odd jutting of bone, even as it snapped back into place with a satisfying crack.

the fawn made a shrill, screeching noise, jerking to its feet, but a moment later, it seemed to realize that it’s leg was no longer hurting. you held up both your hands in what you hoped was a calming gesture before tugging out a few more peanuts holding it out as an offering.

the fawn blinks it’s dark, watery eyes at you a few times before limping forward to dig its nose once more into your palm. you allowed yourself a smile then, and a soft relieved laugh as the fawn limped forward a few more steps, testing the weight of it’s body on its newly repaired leg. it looked more confident now, seemingly realizing that the wound was somewhat fixed, and it gave you one last, lingering look before it bounded off back into the sunset forest, leaving you with nothing more than a handful of peanut shells and a tightness in your chest you can’t quite seem to put your finger on.

you’d snuck back into the doujou that evening, smelling of mud and moss and cedar, and you’d lain in your futon, staring up at the high slatted ceilings, streaked with moonlight, wondering where on earth you truly belonged.

the next morning, everyone woke to neatly a folded futon and a wooden training katana, the hilt carved with your name, laid across your pillow.

so you see, the story could have started here. but it didn’t. and perhaps we should be thankful for that.

the cost of ambition.

the story, as we know it, starts then at the baratie, on the morning after a meal was eaten and not properly paid for, after an ill-fated duel between a boy with a mouthful of ambitions and a man who’d forgotten what it felt like to be truly surprised. well, he was surprised that morning, watching the boy fall back with a gash the size of the world spurting blood across the docks.

“grow strong,” he’d said, “and come find me.”

and it starts, when a pirate in a straw hat comes crashing into the baratie’s kitchen, shouting about a dying friend.

“help! help! zoro… zoro needs a doctor!”

“whoa, whoa, slow down, chore boy — i can’t understand a word you’re saying,” zeff holds up a hand to stem luffy’s panicked rambling.

“my friend is dying…”

“the nearest doctor’s on the conomi islands —”

“wait, no —” sanji frowns, cutting zeff off, “lemme look at the reservations from last night —” he hurries off to the front desk and returns with a thick leather bound volume, flipping it open to scan through the seating chart for the night before.

“i knew it!” he says, pointing at a name written in deep, ocean blue ink, “there — her! i’ve heard of her — she’s the best ship’s doctor in the east blue, and if i’m not much mistaken, her ride’s not due to leave till this afternoon.”

“great! c’mon — we haven’t got time to lose!” luffy says as he rushes out of the kitchens, leaving sanji and zeff to exchange an exasperated look before following after.

they find you on the loading docks, your nose buried in a notebook, your hand flying across the page, ink smudging your unrolling sleeve.

“please! we need a doctor! my friend — zoro — he’s dying!”

you jerk up from your notes, the name ringing in your ears like an alarm bell, rocking through your body like the base boom of a signal flare. zoro? here?

you look around even as luffy makes his way to you, pressing in too close, a hand on top of his head to keep his hat from flying away, the other curling around your upper arm.

“w-wait — what’s going on? did you say someone was dying?”

“yes! my friend! he got into a fight with this warlord guy and now he’s bleeding from everywhere —”

“show me,” you say, lurching to your feet and shouldering your leather knapsack, pursing your lips as your vision threatens to tunnel ahead of you. zoro. it’s been such a long time since you’d heard that name. sure, you’d heard of his exploits in the east blue. how could you not have?

demon, bounty, pirate hunter. hunter, hunter, hunter —

you take a deep breath as luffy leads you onto the deck of the going merry and ducks below, motioning for you to follow.

when you step into the room, you don’t notice the orange-haired girl or the long-nosed boy, instead, your eyes are drawn to the body on the kitchen table as a magnet would a compass rose. his shirt torn into barely more than ribbons, a large red gash oozing blood, bisecting his torso like some unbridgeable canyon in miniature, his skin paler than you’d ever remembered it being, sweat beading his flickering brow —

oh, zoro…

you resist the urge to press your hand to your mouth. so instead, you swallow back your heart and try to assess the damage. massive blood loss, possible head trauma, and who knows what else?

“you said a warlord with a giant sword did this?” you ask, hurrying to the table and frowning down at the gaping wound.

“y-yeah — he — he had a big hat with a white feather on it —” luffy starts.

“mihawk. his name was dracule mihawk,” the orange-haired girl cuts in, her voice sharp and a bit too forced to be steady, “he told zoro to get stronger, and that… it wasn’t his time to die yet.”

you grimace, chewing on your bottom lip as you dump your supplies unceremoniously onto the countertop next to him, digging out the necessities.

“well, he wasn’t lying — the cut’s clean and judging by the size… he could’ve cut much deeper. but he didn’t,” you sigh, absently rolling up your sleeves as you pull out a hooked suture needle and a length of thread.

they watch you work in silence, first cleaning the wound, and then slowly, painstakingly pinching and stitching him back together. by the end of it, you’re nearly dizzy with exhaustion, and the sky outside has already turned a deep, bruising purple.

you sigh, wiping down your hands.

“can someone go and ask the waiter for a fish? any fish’ll do, but the fresher, the better. oh, and a bottle of scotch.”

“got it!” the boy with the long nose bolts up and is gone in a flash.

you slump down into a nearby chair and let your head loll back. a moment later, you feel someone pressing a glass into your hand and open your eyes to find the orange-haired girl holding a glass of water.

“here… you looked like you could use it.”

“thanks,” you say, taking a grateful gulp.

“i’m nami, by the way… thanks for —” she waves at the shape of zoro still on the kitchen table, “and that one over there is luffy. the guy that just left is usopp and —” her breath catches as her eyes fall back onto zoro’s form.

“i know who he is,” you say, your voice quiet as you look down at the glass clutched in your hands.

“you know zoro?” luffy’s voice is loud, but not unpleasantly so.

you glance up and feel the truth pulsing against the back of your throat like a heartbeat. then, you shake your head with a soft smile.

“i mean, he’s got quite the reputation.”

luffy lets out a laugh, “yeah! he sure does — he’s a great fighter! probably one of the best i’ve ever seen!”

you nod, staring at the sloshing liquid in the bottom of your glass.

a few moments later, usopp returns with sanji in tow, holding a bottle of scotch in one hand and a dead fish in the other.

“you’d better have a good reason for this,” he says, his expression grim, “zeff’s not gonna be happy when he finds these gone.”

you force a smile, “well, i can promise that at least one of those things’ll be put to good use — can you just skin the fish for me, please?”

sanji frowns, “and the scotch?”

you glance around before shrugging, “i don’t know about you guys but… i think we could all use a drink.”

the cliche of the morning after.

when zoro wakes up the first time, it’s to a world-muffling quiet. he coughs, uncertain of where he is, his head throbbing, his chest feeling too light and too heavy all at once.

“oh! you’re awake — here… have some water. you’ll need it.”

he hears the voice, both familiar and foreign, and then, he feels the cool press of a glass against his lips.

he gulps down the water greedily before pain rockets through him and he lets out a loud groan.

“i… i had a dream…” he says, his head spinning, the words slurring from him, and for a second, he wonders if he’d just been fed alcohol instead of water, but the pain seizes him again and he can’t stop talking.

“yeah? what did you dream about?” the familiar, foreign voice asks, soothing, as a cold palm presses against his forehead.

“shimotsuki village… i — i made a promise. i told her — i’d be the greatest… swordsman…”

his voice is fading, and the world is fading with it.

“yeah… you did, huh? and i’m sure you’ll fulfill it, one day…”

zoro sighs, sinking gratefully into the warm, welcoming arms of darkness once more.

“but not today,” you say, reaching out to wipe the sweat from zoro’s brow, your voice so soft that you’re sure no one else can hear, “today… you just need to keep on living. and that’s the greatest promise you could ever make to me.”

smooth sailing.

when he wakes up proper, you aren’t there to greet him. but he doesn’t miss the shape of you as they all pile onto the merry to go looking for nami. he doesn’t miss sanji’s too-wide grin or the unpleasant, burning itch that shoots through his healing wound as he watches the cook ask you about your favorite foods.

he keeps quiet for the most part, but you find him still, and you ask him how he’s doing with a ship’s doctor’s professionalism and efficiency.

“how’re you healing?”

“fine.”

“any tenderness?” you ask, your brows knitting as he tugs open his shirt and lets you peel the bandages away.

“not really,” he lies, because the the tenderness is not skin deep. he feels it in the labyrinthine galleys of his soul and he can’t quite figure out why you, of all people, might make him feel this way.

you run a surgical hand along the stretch of puckered skin and he sucks in a long breath, feeling his cheeks flood with inexplicable heat.

you smell of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth and for the life of him, he can’t remember why it makes his entire body go soft with memory. it reminds him of… something.

something, something, something.

“i hear you, y’know,” you say, and he jerks back to the present, with you absently rolling up your shirtsleeves before tugging at a fresh piece of gauze to wrap him back up.

“don’t know what you mean.” he looks away, willing himself to stay still as you daub a pungent cream against his chest before applying the layers of bandage. he lifts his arm to give you more room even as you shoot him a disbelieving look.

“sword practice, in the middle of the night. i told you that you need to rest — you’ll only prolong your own healing if you keep on pushing yourself like this. rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro narrows his eyes. because he’d heard that from someone, somewhere before.

“your bodies need time to repair,” his sensei used to say as they all gathered after dinner at the doujou for evening meditation, “and a disciplined mind leads to a disciplined body. don’t forget that rest is it’s own brand of practice.”

zoro had never been good at it, but over the years, he’d managed to endure.

“there. all done.”

you lean back to admire your handiwork, unaware of zoro’s eyes as they scan over the shape of you, taking in the length of your hair, the bright of your eyes, the limber, spider-quick thinness of your hands and fingers.

“thanks,” he says, slipping off the kitchen table, pausing as he notices how still you’ve gone, your eyes wide as you blink at the planes of his chest, inches from your nose. a second later, you stumble back, clearing your throat, a sweet dawning pink dusts the high of your cheeks as he cocks his head to watch you, fascinated by your reaction.

he almost grins, letting his stomach flex as he takes his time in doing up the buttons of his shirt, before grabbing his swords and slipping from the room, leaving you to clean up your medical supplies, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

zoro wonders, just briefly, how it might feel to catch your lips between his own teeth instead.

ink, skin, and bullets.

it’s you who bandages nami’s self-inflicted wounds, you who spends four meticulous hours tattooing over the sawfish curl with a pinwheel spiral that curves into a tangerine’s plumpness. you, who soothes eucalyptus balm over nami’s arm before wrapping it up in a fresh roll of gauze, waving away her hiccupped thanks.

and it’s you, who gets a shotgun pressed into your palms by a stony-faced nojiko as you all prepare to march on arlong park.

“if i can’t go with you… then at least, i can give you the tools,” nojiko says as she wraps your fingers around the butt of the gun.

zoro narrows his eyes as he watches the way your fingers shake as you weigh the shotgun in your palms.

“i don’t like it,” he says.

“yeah, you shouldn’t come with us — we’ll need you to patch us up after,” sanji agrees with a wink, much to zoro’s displeasure.

but you shake your head, a steely light in your eyes as you clutch the shotgun to your chest, “no, i — i want to come. i mean — like luffy said… it’s our fight, after all.”

arlong park.

the flurry of battle is as it always has been. you use the shotgun more as a blunt instrument than as a projectile carrier, but it seems to work just as well. you’re small, and quick, and your knowledge of anatomy (yes, even fishman anatomy) allows you to maneuver the head of the shotgun into the softest, most venerable places on a fishman’s body as you all fight your way through arlong park.

but zoro is never far off, keeping close to you as he fends off the worst of the snarling fishmen, his sword flashing like fish scales in the midday sun.

there comes a moment when he slices an oncoming fishman right through the jugular that you let out a long breath, wincing as the fishman’s body hits the ground with a dull thud, and zoro sighs, turning towards you. but a second later, he freezes as you grab the hilt of his sword and shove it backwards.

he feels it resting against thick, bullet-proof flesh and he hears the loud panting of something next to his ear as he sees in the reflection of your eyes — a fishman standing behind him, frozen against the tip of his blade, the hilt clutched in your shaking, shivering hands.

“d-don’t — i’ll kill you —” you say, your voice a forceful, fractured thing.

zoro searches your eyes before clasping his hands over yours and slowly tugging the sword from your gasp.

“hey…” he says, deliberately drawing your gaze away from the fishman before he jerks his sword back and feels, with a satisfying shink, the weight of the blade sinking into unforgiving flesh. he feels your fingers trembling beneath his as he pulls the sword away, and the fishman behind him sinks to his knees before falling sideways with the dull thunk of a no longer animate body.

you try to tug away, but zoro holds you steady, running his thumb in soothing circles along the backs of your hands.

“s-sorry — i — i couldn’t —”

zoro shakes his head, pulling you up by your elbow.

“it’s okay — don’t apologize.” he whips his swords around and catches another fishman in the stomach, dropping him with a flicker of silver and a splash of red.

“you never have to apologize…” he says, as he reaches for your hands and curls them in the warmth of his own, callused palms.

finding neverland.

you kiss for the first time after a brutal battle. after the deck has been washed of blood and the railings have been hung with the remnants of the tattered sails.

repairs are much needed, but zoro had saved you yet again. you pull him to you in the darkness of the midnight deck, the crow’s nest empty because, well, he’s supposed to be up there, keeping watch. but you’d caught him instead, curling your fingers into the soft linen of his shirt, your mouth seeking out his in the relative dark.

“mnph —”

he grunts as his hands find purchase against your shoulders, pressing you back and back and back, till you’re pushed flush against the thick totem of the main mast, and your panting breaths are all he can taste against his desperate lips.

“s-sorry…” you let out a helpless laugh as he pushes forward, his teeth clacking against yours.

“quit that,” he says, his voice nothing more than a panting breath on the open sea air.

“hm?” you blink, lashes fluttering in the moonless night, your lips kiss-swollen and delectable even as zoro forces himself to pull back, studying you with an accusatory eye.

“you’re always saying sorry,” he says as he brushes a strand of hair from your cheek. above you, the main sail whoomps, catching an evening wind.

“i’m not… i don’t…” you look away, embarrassed to be caught. zoro reaches down to grab your chin, forcing your head back towards him.

“yeah, you do,” he says, his voice gentle, even as he cups your cheek.

“you don’t ever, ever, have to apologize for just... being you. got it?” and there’s a burning ember in the spark of his voice as he twists your face up towards him, his lips hot and hungry as he brands you with this promise, and you’re powerless to do else but accept it.

you find your fingers in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, his breath cascading over your lips even as you press in close, close, closer. a helpless whine twists its way up the back of your throat as zoro hoists you up, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs.

“z-zoro… please,” there’s something broken in the tenor of your voice that breaks him more completely than he has the words to describe, so he settles for holding you tighter over his hips and carrying you to his room. it takes a bit of finagling to get you comfortably situated in his hanging bed, but once he does, he can’t help the soft sigh that escapes him as he looks over the length of your body.

from your pink-flushed cheeks to the loose, crumpled material of your button up shirt, all the way down to the hem of your skirt as it brushes up along the skin of your thighs. he leans own to press an indulgent kiss into the dip of your collarbone.

“'please' though… i like a little bit more,” he says, reaching down to pop the top button of your shirt, to revel in the way you hiccup as he teases a line down your chest, his lips following his fingers as he undoes your buttons one by one.

“i — ah —” your fingers curl into the soft moss of his hair and he groans, long and lush into the creamy expanse of skin above the waist of your miniskirt.

“again…” zoro says, whispering the word against you, tugging on the elastic of your skirt, pulling them down the length of your legs.

“z-zoro, please!”

your head tips back as you feel his tongue flick over the hot button of your clit, his fingers digging into your hips, the pads of his forefingers tracing gentle circles around your hip bones as he holds you to his mouth and moans.

there’s a fumbling of fingers and a clashing of teeth as he wrenches himself up from between your legs to mouth at your lips. you taste yourself on his tongue and shiver at the indecency. still, the coals of desire burn in the pit of your stomach as his fingers press into your spit-slicked folds and you feel your whole body arch up in response.

he has always been quiet, but none more so than when he’s working three digits into your fluttering core, his eyes dark and fixed as they watch his own fingers pull out of you and push back in, slick and shiny with the evidence of your arousal.

“fuck…” he whispers the word like a prayer, slipping passed his lips like some holy thing. you can hear the near reverence in his voice as he slowly removes his hand and presses them to his lips for a taste. the lewdness of it makes the hot coil in the pit of your stomach twist all the tighter. and this time, when he drags himself up the length of your body to kiss you, you whine against his mouth, tasting your own tang on the heat of his tongue.

“ngh — fuck —!” you echo, as he flips onto his back and tugs you over his hips in one, fluid moment, his palms helping you grind your sodden folds over the length of his cock, the friction all-consuming and dizzying. a thin string of arousal connecting the tip of his cock to the seam of your cunt and zoro is helpless to do much else but moan thickly at the sight.

“shit.”

you whimper softly as he teases at your entrance, your palms splayed against his chest for support, your thighs shaking on either side of his hips as he eases you down inch by slow, excruciating inch, ontohis thick, throbbing cock. you toss your head back as he pushes into you, the fit of him fiery-tight and stretching you in ways you’d never thought was possible.

you feel him pulsing against your walls, and you wish briefly that you could’ve tasted him as he’d tasted you, before he sheathed himself inside you. how would he taste, you wondered, and you feel your mouth water at the thought of his heavy, salty weight on your tongue.

“n-ngh!” your voice cracks as he rocks his hips experimentally against yours, the drag of him inside you driving you to near incoherence.

“good girl,” he whispers, the words falling from him like second nature. you keen beneath his praise, bracing yourself as he plants his feet on the bed and jack hammers up into you, his stomach tensing in deep breaths of tight, sinewy muscle, his arms flexing as he helps you rock down above him.

“pretty… fucking… girl…” he intersperses his heavy groans of pleasure with soft exclamations, fucking you now to the light, rhythmic rocking of the ship, even though there’s nothing light about the way his cock bullies it’s way into your cunt again and again, forcing you to clamp down around him on each and every thrust.

there’s nothing gentle about the way he digs his nails into the flushed skin of your hips, how he leans up to latch his greedy mouth onto one of your pert nipples, moaning as he savors in the way you arch against him, pushing your chest more fully into his mouth.

“r-right — right there —”

“yeah?” he asks, half-smirking as he looks up at you, his warm gaze betraying the hard, teasing edge behind his voice, “where do you want me?”

you keen, whining as you drag your hands down your own body to press against your stomach, grabbing his hand to push it against you as well, his palm hot and flat as it lays along your tummy.

“r-right here —”

“fuck — that’s right —” he jerks up into you, burying his face in your chest with a clipped moan as he quickens his pace, his one hand pressing against your stomach as you feel him pushing up farther into you than you’d ever imagined possible.

the pleasure is intense, an other-worldly feeling as he finally pushes you over the edge, his hips stuttering as he feels you clench around him, your arms winding around his torso, to act as both tether and tide as he holds you to him, grounding you to this feeling while simultaneously casting you against the rough edges of this most selfless and selfish pleasure.

“h-holy… fuck me…” you breathe out, clutching at zoro’s back, digging ruddy red grooves into his shoulder blades as he rolls over to fucks down into you, relentless in his chase of his own climax, groaning deep and throaty as he finally spills into you.

you hiss as you feel the heat of him pooling inside. and it’s not till a few minutes later that he picks his head up from where his face had been buried in your neck to shoot you a wide, lopsided grin.

“yeah, pretty sure that’s what i just did,” he says, rolling onto his side and letting out a deep, soul-steadying breath.

you roll your eyes before turning to look at him, only to find him watching you with a gentle, anchoring softness. and like this, it’s hard to see him as the battle-hardened warrior. like this, it’s hard to imagine that he’d ever made such a promise as to become the greatest swordsman in the whole, entire world.

like this, he just looks like a lovestruck boy, forced to grow up much too soon, searching for any remnants of pleasure he might have left to hold on to.

an irony of hands.

it’s never easy, the night after enemy raids, the deck pooling with bodies and blood, the sea the color of a scabbing wound, flotsam and jetsam like bloated body parts floating on the dark, inky waves.

you’re helping usopp push some of the dead bodies overboard, but then you find one man with three deep gashes on his torso and blood bubbling on his lips.

“… gonna… gonna report — never… escape…”

you nearly yell as you see the tiny den den mushi in his hands, his fingers quivering as he tries to dial the emergency line. you smack it from his hand and press your tiny, surgeon’s scalpel to his throat. it’s sweet, polished silver gleams wicked beneath the moonless night.

“don’t you fucking dare,” you say, even though your voice shakes, and there are perhaps a million other ways of taking care of him more easily. but you know that if you throw him overboard now, he’d bob, half-drowning and helpless, for a few hours, or maybe even days before he’d finally succumb to the terrible, patient drag of the ocean (and most likely, dehydration).

“no,” a voice says, steady and firm, as a long, rough-fingered hands enter your vision and carefully tug your hands way from the man’s throat.

you look up to find zoro, his hand still clutched around yours, an unspoken sweetness flickering behind his eyes.

“i — if we toss him over — he'll just —” you swallow thickly, tearing your gaze away from zoro’s face as his expression shifts into something of the unreadable and soft. you hate to let him see you like this, so hesitant, so incompetent.

“let me do it,” zoro says, giving your hands a light shove before, with one swift arc of his blade, he severs the man’s carotid, leaving him slumped and bleeding on the blood-stained deck.

“oh… oh god…” you press your shaking fingers to your lips, the silver scalpel falling with a loud clatter.

“c’mere,” zoro says, tugging you up and leading you down to the hallway below decks. he slows as the pair of you enter the darkest part of the hallway, and he turns to hold you at arms length, his fingers tight on your arms as you feel his eyes scanning you over, and over, and over.

“you’re not hurt?” he asks, voice quiet and clipped.

“no,” you shake your head.

“not even a little?”

you shake your head again, pursing your lips this time to keep the sob from pouring through.

still, he sees it, and he pulls you to him, cradling your head in his large, warm palm, the other arm wrapping around your middle.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, light, into your cheek even as you let out a bitten off sob against his chest.

you hiccup, curling your fingers into the material of his shirt, "i — i couldn’t do it,” you say, squeezing your eyes as he holds you to him and lets you cry.

“i — i couldn’t kill him.”

zoro sighs, pulling back to smooth a hand over your hair, bringing it down to cup your now tear-stained cheek.

“yeah, i know. but that’s not what your hands are made for,” he says, letting his own hands trail down and down and down, till he’s got both of your palms cupped in his like a wishbone.

“don’t you get it?” he asks, staring down at your palms, upturned against his, “these hands were never made for taking lives…” he looks up, his eyes too bright in this borrowed darkness. and then, he smiles.

“they were made for saving lives instead.”

confessions, part i.

you stare at him for a full ten seconds before letting your body fall laxed into a soft, bubbling fit of champagne-colored laughter.

“i love you,” you say, the words tumbling from you, more truth than any story or poem or legend or myth either of you have ever heard.

“i love you, zoro,” you say again, tasting the words on your tongue like fireworks, like pop-rock candies, like the first, stinging breath of autumn after the hazy veil of summer has finally lifted. and slowly, in the clarity and truth of your declaration, you think you can see his lips as they lift up in an open-heart smile, as he too tastes the words you’ve just so recently mustered the courage to say.

confessions, part ii.

zoro stares back, and or a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. then, for too long. and you think you’d made a mistake, telling him how you feel. but then, he smiles — a true smile, a smile that lights up his face and erases all the grooves and lines that should’ve been worn there by the weathers and weights of hardship.

and still, listening to your words, he smiles — a smile that makes him nothing short of incandescent.

he nods, squeezing your hands in his.

“i love you too.”

false start (redux).

every story as a beginning, a middle, and an end. though not necessarily in that order. and, looking back, roronoa zoro knows that if he had to pick, his story probably begins here — at the ripe age of eight, in a doujou nestled next to a forest that always smelled of cedar and moss and freshly turned earth.

it probably starts with an endless parade of sword practice and sparring, of warm up laps and cool down stretches.

its true — it could be said that his story starts with kuina, the doujou sensei’s blue-haired daughter, who was better at swordcraft than zoro thought he ever might be. and to some, this is a good enough kind of beginning to latch on to.

but no, zoro knows, because he knows himself now, and he knows that stories, just like swordsmanship, is an art that requires a certain amount of tempering. a certain degree of trimming and tailoring. a certain kind of articulation.

so he’s certain that it starts here, when he’d seen you for the very first time. and it’s true, you’d seemed like nothing special then, just another quiet little girl who’d been forced into the doujou by some faceless set of rigid, expectant parents, and you’d worked just as hard as you could have, given your natural inclination for anything but sword play.

he’d known that you’d never be great shakes at swordsmanship, but still, he’d found himself drawn by and to you, as a magnet would a compass rose, as one might find their destiny, or their soulmate. he had found his eyes tracking you whenever you weren’t looking, found himself watching as you’d patter around after sparring practice to ask everyone how they were feeling, to dig your tiny fingers (strong and dexterous as they already were) into a knot here, an aching muscle there, a pinched nerve that might’ve been really bad if not found here, and left to fester in that vast, horrible elsewhere.

but he’d been a shy, quiet, kind of boy, absorbed by his sport. and kuina’s skill was more than enough for one growing, teenage boy to contend with without worrying about the strange attraction he had towards perhaps the least “swordsy” person in the entire class. and so, he’d never plucked up the courage to talk to you, never questioned when you’d kept away from his side of the classroom after sparring practice, when all the other girls would flutter around him like a flock of unwelcome pigeons, asking if he wanted to be their stretching partner.

then, the morning came when shimotsuki-sensei had informed him in not so many words that kuina was gone. and the funeral had slipped by in a hazy blur of bodies and incense, and the next thing he knew, he was holding the wadou ichimonji, and sensei was saying something about keeping kuina’s dream alive.

he’d seen you flit from the funeral march of black-clad children, shadow-dark and raven-quick, right off into the thicket of trees. and he’d followed you, because he couldn’t think of a place he’d like to be less than back in that suffocating practice room with all his fellow classmates, half of them casting him curious looks, the other half avoiding his gaze like the literal plague.

he’d followed you to the clearing, and watched as you’d sprinted, screaming around the field of tiny, white-petaled flowers until you slumped down, panting with your face upturned to a sea-breeze sky. he caught himself before he could burst out laughing (or crying, he wasn’t quite sure which he wanted to do more at that moment), and he’d forced himself to sit still behind the trunk of a large tree and watch as you pushed yourself up. the light of the dying sun washed your figure in a great, dream-like ream of orange and gold.

then, just as it seemed like you were going to head back, he spotted you spot the injured fawn, curled into the gnarled roots of a sapling cypress tree. and he’d watched still as you slowly approached the creature with a handful of peanuts before distracting it and crack — he’d heard it clear across the clearing — the sound of a bone being set back into place.

the fawn had screeched and bolted to it’s feet.

but you were just as fearless as you always were, holding out your palm with more peanuts, and zoro had watched, with a mounting fascination coiling in the base of his stomach, as the fawn dug its nose into the palm of your hand.

he’d seen the brilliance behind your eyes, heard the bell-toll sound of your soft, everlasting laughter.

and he vowed, then and there, to become the greatest swordsman he could be, the greatest swordsman in the world, if only to protect you from those who might hurt you. from those who might threaten to take away the light — the life — that thrummed, ever present, in the palms of your very own hands.

a/n: i know, i know, there was an authors note before. but i feel like i can explain this better now that you've read the fic -- to me, the story of "butterfly lovers" is and always has been as story of someone pretending to be someone they're not, right? so in that sense, you/reader was just trying to fit into a mold that wasn't quite made for her before discovering her true calling as a doctor. and the fluff and romance was that, unbeknownst to her, zoro's known that this entire fucking time. u__u anyways. i hope you enjoyed. bless up and simp zoro, fam.

opla!zoro requests are open!

[hrtbreakanniversary]

Back to Me | Satoru Gojo

I could make you mad, I could make you scream I could make you cry, I could make you leave I could make you hate me for everything But I can't make you come back to me

pairing: prince!satoru gojo x maid!reader

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), modern royal au, mentions of sexual activities, suggestive, they are college aged (gojo is about 23 and y/n is nearing 21), no use of japanese honorifics

word count: 1k

_

Annoyed was an understatement for what Y/N Y/L/N felt at the moment.

At the break of dawn, Prince Satoru Gojo begins his routine of an early morning run before going to the gym.

He's tried to do a public gym once but someone took a picture of him from an odd angle that made it look like the woman that was helping with his weights so that it didn't fall on his chest was sitting on his face. Social media went into a frenzy for the prince's exhibitionism. His publicists having a field day and his parents having a hard time believing him too because of his reputation that constantly bought him a spot on gossip websites.

Because of so, he's been instructed to stay home by his parents until everything dies down and also to just contain him. They have no idea what they did to create what they call an "embarrassment to the throne." and his need to cause destruction to his title.

Workers around the castle struggled to keep up with the male's new schedule. His very unpredictable new schedule.

One of these being Ms. Y/L/N herself who was up much earlier to direct the staff of what to do. Having basically raised the boy since he was born, she knew just about everything about him. How Satoru liked his breakfast. How he liked his clothes smelling. How he liked his bath.

Since it was the summer before her junior year of college, Y/N decided to come back home from the summer and visit to spend time with her Mother. Always forgetting that her mom's second home was the castle and that is just about where she spent all on her time.

Each summer consisted of her working at the castle to help her mother out. Well since it was legal to at the age of 16. All the summers and weekends before that when Y/N wasn’t preoccupied with school or homework, she too find would have considered this place her second home as well because how often she was here but the perception of that was ruined when she turned the grand age of 15 and heard who she once considered her safe person, her best friend, whispering things to Suguru Geto, another prince from the neighboring city that tore her heart into two.

Some would say it’s petty to hold such a grudge for so long. But she didn’t care especially with how bothersome he was being at the moment.

“Ow… Ow…” Satoru swatched at the other maid’s hand, “Are you trying to exfoliate my skin off? Shit hurts.”

In fear, the young maid moved away. Dropping the sponge into the tub, bowing with apologies spilling from her mouth.

Muttering underneath his breath, he looked at Y/N who stood in the corner of the room with her arms crossed.

“Aren’t you suppose to be doing this?”

“I’m teaching her.”

“Well, she’s rubbing me raw.”

“Sad.”

“Shouldn’t you be showing her how? What kind of teacher are you?”

“It’s 2023, Gojo. Don’t you know how to take your own showers?”

“It's Satoru to you. And don’t you know procedure?”

“I don’t know. Seems like I’m hearing this is the first time we've done something like this and that you specifically requested it.”

He should’ve known better. I mean your mother was the head steward. Of course, she’ll go into detail about specific things. Especially about how he suddenly required assistance in the bath. Complaining that he was struggling to scrub his body because he pulled something earlier this morning. Y/N too rose an eyebrow as Satoru didn’t usually take baths, he just took showers because it took less time and he was able to leave the castle quicker when he did so.

“Just hurry up and get over here.”

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes. While picking up the wet sponge from the tub, she also resisted the urge to let her eyes wander down to his sculpted body, features of his abs and biceps prominent because the water that dripped down. Harshly pressing the sponge against his back, she began to roughly rub up and down his back.

Satoru warned, "Y/L/N."

Turning her head to the younger maid, Y/N glanced towards the door. Granting permission for the younger maid to excuse herself from the room before Y/N began to scrub again. Not as rough but definitely not gentle.

"I'm just doing my job, it's all."

Y/N ran the sponge up and down his back once before moving to his arms. Running the soap up and down the muscles xf his biceps that still appeared even though his body was relaxed. The motion reminding her of the last time she had her hands on him like this.

That's when she began to apply more pressure again, resulting in Satoru turning his head to look at her from over his shoulder. Her hands falling into the water behind him.

"What are you doing?"

"Perv."

"How am I a perv? I'm just trying to get washed up after my long workout." A smirk played it's way onto his lips which pissed her off more.

"Oh please! Who does this anymore?"

"Some people do!" Satoru actually got this idea from a tv show he watched on Netflix the other night. Although the show was set in the 1800's and the clothes that they were wearing were much older than what they're wearing.

"Yeah, babies do! You're a grown man."

"I can't move my arms." He pouted. "I need help getting to certain areas."

"Is this the only way you can get a woman to touch you, is that why? Oh my, are the rumors in fact untrue? Is the crown prince being a playboy a facade? Is he actually just a virgin?" Y/N switched positions so she was kneeling on the side of the tub and was now facing him. She placed her hand swiftly onto his chest, resting where his heart is," Tell me, is your heart beating fast just from the opposite sex touching you like this?"

“You, of all people, should know I’m not a virgin.” Satoru's blue eyes falling from hers down to her lips.

Y/N quickly yanked back her hand. The memories from 2 summer ago flowing in. Grabbing a handful of soapy water, she tossed it into Satoru's face before standing up abruptly.

"Whatever, do this yourself."

Y/N splashed him again with the dirty tub water, her back towards him as she walked to the door.

"I'll tell your mom!"

"Oh yeah? What is she going to do? Fire me?!"

_

a/n: might make this into a series hehe

[hrtbreakanniversary]

The hanbin fic was everything, I owe you my firstborn and a mansion

😘 and we shall live it in it together

[hrtbreakanniversary]

photograph | suguru geto

warnings: no use of honorifics, reader is described as a female but it can be read as gender neutral, y/n simping very hard for geto, him simping just as hard

word count: 2k

Y/N resisted the urge to grab the brown-haired bobbed girl by the hair as she playfully rolled her eyes at the suffering she was putting her best friend through.

Shoko asked her if she wanted to go to the cherry blossom festival. Originally she thought it was only going to be just them two. A little bestie date away from tiresome missions and Yaga's constant lecturing. She was especially excited to post on Facebook about their day with cute photos. No one mentioned that that Satoru Gojo was tagging along as well. And wherever Gojo was, Suguru Geto went along too.

"You'll be fine. They're super nice and I've told them a lot about you," Shoko nudged her on the side," Plus we can have Gojo buy us crepes." before interlocking their fingers and joining the two tall males that stood only a few feet away from them.

It wasn't that Y/N hated them. No, it was quite the opposite. She honestly was quite star stuck by them.

Meeting Shoko was by chance because of a bad injury she had from one of her missions. She underestimated the grade of the curse. Almost risking her life and becoming immobilized that Nanami had to take over and finish up the mission on his own. She apologized every day after when he visited her in the infirmary for making him carry the workload that day. The typically stoic blonde haired male only shrugged and told her to get better soon each time.

While in the infirmary because of her severe injures, she spent a lot of time in there especially with Shoko that was practicing her reverse curse technique on her. They bonded over their love for the K-pop group, Girls Generation.

The chorus of Into the New World blasting through the speakers that Shoko bought comforted her as she felt her bones getting rearranged.

Despite them being best friends for a while now, Y/N still never spent time with Gojo and Geto.

Being a first year student, it's not like Y/N would cross paths with them often especially since the two were always sent out on missions together. She would often hear things from other female classmates that would fangirl over "the strongest duo".

Y/N couldn't say she wasn't any different from them especially since she harbored a huge crush on Geto. She was just more quiet about it as she admired him from afar, taking a look at him each time he was doing his daily evening run through her dorm window.

It wasn't just physical either. It was his personality. He was kind and looked out for the underclassman. There was a time that Haibara wasn't being his usual cheerful self as he was being hard on himself after practice and it was hard to get him out of the mood no matter what Nanami or her did. Later that night when she snuck out to get a drink from the vending machine, she saw Geto talking to him outside of the showers. A smile appearing on his face the next second.

The next morning, Haibara came bearing gifts from Kyoto that he said one of the second years got for them but didn't disclose who. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

So each day, she found herself wanting to get at least a glimpse of his face. Enough just to see his face but not enough for him to notice her or have a conversation like a normal person would.

Which is why she despised Shoko at the moment.

Shoko wasn't at fault at all though. Heck, the girl doesn't even know about this big fat crush of hers.

But Y/N knowing that the boy she has been pining for the past year was going to be closer to her than he's ever been before. How on earth was she suppose to function now? Should she be flirty? No, that's too much especially when you don't even know how to. Should she be quiet? No, what if he thought she was rude. There was no time to conjure up a script or a personality that would fit today righ-

"Hello."

Stuck in her thoughts, she hadn't realized she was now standing right of him.

Her breath getting caught in her throat, watching how his hair that was normally in a bun was now flowing down to his shoulder. Tied halfway up with a bang that dreamily over his eye. His slightly chapped lips moving as he moved on to greet Shoko, moving his hand up so he could ruffle her hair.

Shoko pushed his hands away in a hurried movement. Quickly wrapping an arm around Y/N's shoulder and pulling her into her side in a tight side hug,"This is Y/N Y/L/N. The first year that I've been telling you about."

"You never told us that she was pretty", Gojo smirked, his glasses tipping down so she could see his bright blue eyes.

Geto only smiled at her, greeting her with the crease of his eyes. Oh my god. That smile. She always saw it when he would be laughing at Gojo's antics but seeing it up close was something else.

Simplest way to put it: the man is gorgeous. Her heart thumped so hard she could feel it in her ears.

"You're a little shy, aren't you?" Gojo teased. Shit, was she just staring in the space again? Shoko pushed him by the shoulder.

"Leave her alone. You two are just too much. I told you to tone it down."

"You two? I haven't even done anything." Geto held his hands up in defense.

"Yet. You haven't done anything yet."

Gojo sheepshly shrugged and immediately hugged Y/N into a tight bear hug. His skinny yet firm frame engulfing her as he swung the two of them around. Over his shoulder, she made eye contact with Geto who tilted his head into her view.

" Anybody that is a good friend of Shoko is also a good friend of mine."

"Mine as well." She heard the white hair male mumble into her shoulder before getting pulled away by Shoko.

"Let's get moving. I got hungry waiting for you guys."

Because they decided to come on a weekend, it was super crowded. No space for any elbow room. Every single teenagers, adults, and their child if they had one was on this street tonight. Trying to snag a picture before pushed out by another person that wanted that same view or angle. Shoko voiced her annoyance each someone accidentally bumped into her. Normally she would be agreeing with her but she could hardly focus on that fact when she could feel Geto's muscular arm that was brushing against her. Remembering to breathe was more important.

She was almost bound to faint from how dizzy she was feeling each time he moved her in closer or out of the way from people rushing by.

It didn't help that she opted to wear a short sleeve dress today that kept flying up so she had to keep her arm down instead of moving it away from his bare arm that was exposed from the muscle tee he chose to wear instead of the school's uniform that she typically saw him in.

This totally changed her peripheral on things. She thought he made the school uniform look fantastic but he looks even better in casual clothing.

"Yo, let's take a picture here. The trees here blocks out the buildings." Gojo pointed out a spot that was a quick walk from them if they fast walked. Shoko groaned, asking if they could eat first but Gojo insisted that it was better to get their photos first so they could just sit down to eat and chill after.

Despite grumbling under her breath, Shoko easily got into line for Gojo's selfie. Gojo continously snapped pictures, the four of them striking poses. Considering how close Geto was to her, she surprisingly was still able to naturally snap poses with the group like she was friends with them for years.

"Oh, I have a polaroid!" She dug into her purse, pulling out the device. She snapped pictures of herself then of Gojo who asked for some.

Y/N found herself giggling at the silly poses that Gojo conjured and Shoko's refusal to waste film if he wasn't going to be serious about it. In the midst of it all, she hadn't noticed Geto was still standing behind her until she felt a tug on the strap out her bag.

Ready to defend herself a potential robber, she only saw Geto looking at the Keroppi keychain on her bag. "This looks familiar."

It was one of the keychain that Haibara got from him that night.

"Oh yeah. One of my classmates, Haibara, gave it to us."

Of course she knew he knew that Haibara was one of her classmates but she didn't want to accidentally slip up that she knew that specific detail about him.

"Funny. The last time I asked Haibara about his keychain, he said that he had to take it off because it got too dirty and the string broke. Nice to see yours is still intact."

"Of course I-"

She cut off herself when she remembered the reason why. It was only still intact because it was from him. Heck, Keroppi wasn't even her favorite character. It was Kuromi but Haibara wanted Kuromi and being the one that was personally gifted all the keychains, he got first choice. Before today, it was the only type of interaction she had of his and a gift was indirectly given to her. Of course, she had to take extra good care of it. Keroppi is still good as new, attached to her purse that she uses every time she goes out.

"Quick! Pose, Y/N!"

Y/N quickly snapped her head back to Shoko whose face was covered with the camera. Maybe it was instinct because Shoko did this almost all the time but she quickly posed with Geto and smiled for the picture.

After watching Shoko put the camera down and pull out the film, Y/N realized the position she put herself into. Eyeing her arms that was wrapped around his one arm with his hand still gripping onto the Keroppi.

"Of course what?"

"I'm in need of smoke break." Shoko waved around the photo for it to develop faster," There's too many people, it's stressing me out. Geto, you in?"

"Or you're just hangry." Gojo hummed, earning him another hit on the shoulder of the day.

"I will be if you don't shut up."

In fear that hell would break lose, Y/N unlatched herself from Geto, missing how his arm seemed to follow her like a magnet. "Gojo, do you want to get some crepes with me?"

Shoko winked over Gojo's shoulder at Y/N at what she considered a great suggestion, raising a thumbs up. As the two walked away, Shoko shouted for her to get as many toppings as she could fit into the treat.

"What does she think? That I'm made out of money?"

"Yes."

_

The nicotine filled stick left Shoko's turned up lips. She stared at the male who had his own cigarette in one hand and in the other, the photo that was taken only five minutes ago.

"You totally weren't expecting that, were you?"

Geto smiling down gleefully at the photo, his wallet pulled out to tuck it into the slot that would typically hold an ID card.

In the photo, Y/N was practically cuddling into his side. Because he was shocked at the sudden intimate interaction, he was looking down at her in the photo. If anybody else had seen the photo and didn't know them, they would've thought that they were a couple.

Which is exactly what Geto loved about the picture.

"You sure you don't want me to put in a good word for you?"

"No, I got it. I’d like it to happen naturally. Plus I don’t even know if she likes me back.”

“ Well you better find out because you begged me to let you come. I didn’t know you were going to bring Gojo with you.”

“ I needed my wingman.”

“That wingman is going to expose you if we don’t get back to them right now.”

“Crap, you’re right.”

After the two of them stomped their cigarettes, they walked back towards where all the food stalls. Geto stopped momentarily at one booth to pick up and buy a Kuromi keychain. Maybe one day he’d buy it all for her.

[hrtbreakanniversary]

i wake up, i think about satoru gojo, go to sleep, think about satoru gojo, in my dreams, think about satoru gojo, in the shower, think about satoru gojo, losing my mind, think about satoru gojo, doing nothing, think about satoru gojo, reading a book, think about satoru gojo

[hrtbreakanniversary]

i SWEAR your hanbin fic is literally so good i cant stop reading it its LITERALLY my comfort fic now 100%!!!! i hope you'll write more zb1 in the future 😭😭🫶🫶

YES IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE MORE FOR THEM.

thank you so muchh, ilyy <3

[hrtbreakanniversary]

i will cry, the hanbin fic is soooo goooood🙁 the way you crafted it is so impeccable! i loved it so so so much💌🤍 lysm!🍓

AHHHH THANK YOU!!!

thank you for reading and i appreciate your support (((:

i love you sooo much

[hrtbreakanniversary]

Hihi!

I wanted to see if you could do a twist on this

I asked an author to write this but yet I feel like I need more because I love the prompt sm (a lil bit delulu)

But can you write about hanbin and his 5 kids mattchu, tae, ricky, gyuvin, gunwook, and yujin you can make the other two his friends

tyty !

so ig its hanbin x yn and his 5 kid

i will attempt it (: although, it may come out later than sooner!

[hrtbreakanniversary]

hi! OMGGGSSJS i really loved your hanbin fic secret love song 💕 it was really good and i loved how balanced it was, it was so heartwarming yet so angsty🥹 im a sucker for angst so that fic made me emotional LOL i really enjoyed reading it the whole way and its probably going to be one of my fav fics from now on🫶

OMG IM GONNA CRY

thank you so much 😭 im so glad you loved it! i love and appreciate youu so muchh

[hrtbreakanniversary]

Secret Love Song | Sung Hanbin

And nobody knows I'm in love with someone's baby I don't wanna hide us away Tell the world about the love we making I'm living for that day, someday

summary: afraid of having attention on herself from dating the school's most beloved, y/n y/l/n hides her relationship with sung hanbin. pressured to keep this act up, she begins to reap the consequences of doing so.

pairing: sung hanbin x fem! reader

word count: 12k

playlist: secret love song - little mix, cornelia street - taylor swift, shadow - seventeen

warnings: jealousy, suggestive, both of their thinking gets a bit toxic imo, lots of miscommunication, y/n has trust issues, hanbin is a little insecure, anxiety, profanity (lmk if i missed any!)

The cafeteria was busy with everyone rushing to get a meal in the small period between classes. Friends talk about the outrageous amount of homework that teachers assigned or the crazy things that they were taught because they forget that the people they are teaching are just young high school students. Failed whispers gossiping about what happened over the weekend.

A topic being on the school's basketball team's pointing guard, Sung Hanbin, being tied down to cheer captain, Yoo Jimin. Witnesses talking about how they caught them underneath the bleachers outside near the football field during the halftime of last week's game. His lips on hers and their hands where they shouldn't be in public.

This could be rumors. This could be the truth. It's up to the recipient if they choose to believe it or not.

Y/N knew it wasn’t true because they have been dating for about 6 months now.

"Honestly they're pretty cute. It's nothing surprising if they are a thing." Zhanghao's voice muffled behind the straw as he took a sip out of his drink.

"Dude." Yunjin whacked the male on the arm. She quickly reassured Y/N," Don't listen to him. Everyone knows that they're just close friends."

"You're acting like Y/N is going to do anything about her crush. Don't give her that toxic positivity."

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N scoffed out," Thanks for believing in me, Hao. I appreciate the hope you have for me."

"I'm just stating the facts. You've liked him for how long? And I have not seen you guys talk at all."

"Yeah, they have!" Yunjin tried to recollect exactly when but blanked out.

"Like once? When he asked for the answers to the science homework? I’m sorry. He and his whole posse are totally out of our leagues."

"I hope you fail tryouts tonight."

"Yunjin." Y/N sighed," Too far."

"He's pissing me off."

Zhangho mocked Yunjin, flicking her off in the process. In response, the girl whacked him on his head. While her best friends bickered, she couldn't help looking over at the table in the middle of the room. Zhanghao was right. Despite them already dating, she still struggled to believe that she was. And the way that Zhanghao talked about it like it would be something atrocious, this is why she preferred to keep their relationship under wraps and away from the public’s eye. If her own best friend couldn’t see them together, how could anybody else? And she knew the comments from people who didn’t know her would be more harsh.

Y/N eyed how Jimin was sitting so close to him. With every movement, their arms and shoulders would touch.

Jimin rose her arm to hang off his shoulder, leaning into his ear to whisper into his ear that made his lips raise into a smile. Just as Hanbin was about to reply to whatever the girl had to say, another body came into her view and blocked away the school's new "couple". Letting out a breath that she didn't know she was holding, she looked up to find Matthew. He was a year younger, a grade below, but she had American literature with him. They didn't really talk much except when they would get paired during class but then again, Y/N didn't really talk to people outside of her circle.

"H-Hey, Y/N."

"Hi."

Matthew gleamed at the simple response, his fingers playing with the strap of his backpack. As he remained silent, she looked around the table before looking back up at him," Is there something you need?" "Oh… uhm…" he stumbled to take his bag. Placing it roughly on the table that had the three of them grasping at their trays so that their food didn't jump too far out of their plates. Digging deep into the trenches of his bag, he spared each of them a bright smile before pulling out a crumpled-up flower. A single white rose and he shyly began to hand it to Y/N.

More like shoved it into her hands.

"I was wondering… if you would like to go to the winter formal with me. I mean I know that you don't know me too well and I don't know you too well but I've always thought you were pretty. And maybe we could get to know each other through this. So be my date?" In the corner of her eyes, she saw his friends huddled at the door. One of them filming the whole interaction.

“Matthew, I’m sorry.", His face fell in disappointment. Y/N quickly shook her head, attempting to stop him from crying but she could see the tears already beginning to fall," It's just I wasn't planning to go is all! I'll have to figure it out with my parents and I don't have money to go. I’ll get back to you, yeah?"

Blinking away the rest of his tears, he let out a sigh of relief, "Oh. Okay. Well, I'll see you later."

Before Y/N could even say anything, he scurried away. Pushing past his group of friends that ran after him, slapping him on his shoulder and back as they made a commotion.

"That wasn't easy to watch," Yunjin spoke through clenched teeth. Zhanghao picked up the rose from Y/N's lap who was still staring at the empty door in complete guilt.

"Well… this is how you can tell someone likes you." He rose it in the air as if he were examining an exotic flora. "So start living in reality. The both of you. Because Sung Hanbin has never spared more than a glance at Y/N in the past four years”

Funny enough, Hanbin himself had not been able to take his eyes off the girl for more than a minute since the second she walked in. _ Right foot. Left foot. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

Y/N let out a dry heave, crouching over her knees. Having physical education right after lunch was pure evil. She could feel today’s lunch. Maybe chugging the banana milk before coming out was a bad idea too. It was beneficial for the people in sports that had to leave early to compete at other schools but she wasn’t a part of any sports so they could’ve put her during any other part of the day. Her body was pulled forward by Yunjin who kept her speed at a slow jog. Huffing through each breath,” The faster we get this done, the more we can hide from Coach Kim.”.

“Left!.” A crowd of male voices exclaimed, running past her in a speed that mocked her. Damn basketball team. Their heights offended her too. The grimace on her face stayed until that familiar flop of hair running in the back appeared. Of course, Sung Hanbin being the captain of the basketball team had to lead an example to other players and make sure all his teammates were accounted for. So despite possibly being the fastest, he stayed towards the end to make sure that the players who weren’t able to keep up and no one was left behind.

Suddenly, Hanbin turned around and began to run backward. Raising an eyebrow in question, Y/N continued to jog. He looked around the area, especially on Yunjin who was still beside her before his eye fell down into a wink at her before turning back around and catching up with the rest of his team.

All prior complaints dissipated into the air. She struggled to hide her blush from his flirtatious attempts but that failed when Yunjin stopped them and held her cheeks together. Worried that she was going to faint from the way her cheeks were turning so red.

After everyone had finished the two laps, Coach Kim lined everyone up along the white lines. “Alright, before I send off half of you, we’re going to play a little game of dodgeball.”

Coach Kim earned boos from the tough crowd but he waved them off and began to read down his roster.

“Coach, why don’t we play it a little differently? Couple dodgeball? Girl as striker and boy as the defender?”

“That’s so boring too! You all take too long to get each other out!” A girl shouted from the other side of the line.

“How about we change that up too and have the boy as the striker and the girl as the defender?” A girl with pig tails asked.

Coach Kim obviously thought that was a good idea since he didn't wait for a vote from the class as he immediately divided the class up in half using the method of giving a person a number between 1 and 2.

Y/N looked around at everyone frantically picking their partners. During this game, she always partnered with Yunjin. They always purposely got out so that they could run off and hide somewhere away from everyone’s view to watch episodes of this anime named Bluelock. But now that Yunjin was split apart from her and on the other team, she didn’t know who to choose as her partner and if anybody even wanted to be her partner.

“1?” A familiar voice came out from the chaos of the crowd, their hand reaching to grab her wrist. Hanbin smirked down at Y/N’s look of surprise, her eyebrows raised and lips ajar. His hand slowly trailed down to interlock their fingers together.

Oh he’s getting quite brave. The fight to hide her blush failed once again. But reality hit when she heard other people in their team complaining about how they wanted to be Hanbin’s partner. The ones reminding her why they were in this position in the first place as they questioned who she was and how in any way she was special enough to have Hanbin choose her so quickly. She began to try to pry her fingers out of his,” Hanbin, we can’t.”

“What? Be partners? I don’t see why now.”

” Yeah but partners don’t hold hands like we are.”

Almost like he wasn’t paying attention to a single thing he was saying, Hanbin used his thumb to rub out the crease between her eyebrow created by the pout on her face. Y/N turned her head from side to side to shake his hand off, “Hanbin!” She whisper screamed.

“I don’t know who that is. I only go by one name.”

“Whatever.”

“Whose Hanbin?”

“Shut up, dude.”

“Dude? Hanbin? What are these names?”

Binnie was just on the tip of her tongue but the sound of the whistle brought everyone’s attention to the middle. Using this distraction, she snuck her hand from Hanbin's grasp before any more questioning glances made their way.

All while Coach Kim was trying to give instructions on how to play the game, she could feel his hand linger near hers. The feeling of his fingertips on her palms, close to interlocking their fingers but never doing it. She loved him. Loved how he respected her space and despite pestering her so much about it, listened and didn’t continue actions that made her uncomfortable.

She ached to hold his hand in public.

Wished she didn’t care too much about the retributions.

The whistle rang through the air again to commence the beginning of the game. Everybody rushing into their sports and grabbing a ball from the middle of the court.

Y/N knew it wasn’t going to be normal. She also knew that they were going to be one of the first ones to get out.

Normal partners, they held onto their partners by their shirts or by holding them on their shoulders.

But Hanbin’s arms were around Y/N’s waist, holding her tightly to his chest. It was honestly a little hard to maneuver around with the limitations of space.

The sound of the ball rushing through the air buzzed in Y/N's ear as she flinched away to avoid getting hit all while pushing Hanbin behind her who felt like a 3 potato sacks that she was dragging. The boy was much too happy while playing a game of dodgeball, his grip only tightening as he tucked his chin into her neck.

"Binnie, you're going to have to move if you want there to any chance of us winning."

Longing the vowels in each word, he whispered into her ear," I don't caree~".

To everyone’s surprise except hers, they were the second pair to get out. Gasps of how Hanbin usually lasts until the end. Walking off to the side, they stood and watched the remaining teams. After few minutes and nobody else getting out after them, Hanbin leaned down to whisper in her ear,” Do you want to get out of here?"

She rose her eyebrow," And how would we do that?"

Hanbin looked over at the game and examined the game. More like he was checking to see how Yunjin and her partner was doing. The duo were pretty still very much into the game and it seemed like they weren't going to get out anytime soon. Y/N watched as his arm shot up to garner Coach Kim's attention who stared over at them in question.

"Do you need more balls from the storage, sir? Y/N and I would have no problem grabbing some."

Coach Kim eyed the balls that went off the distance. He shrugged and nodded, honestly not really caring.

Hanbin wasted no time and walked in front to guide them toward the storage. His long legs allowed for their trip to be shorter and faster despite Y/N’s little complaints from her struggling to catch up, practically jogging. He kicked away the rock that held the door open in a comical way that almost fostered a giggle out of her. With a gentle smile on his face, he held the door open with his one hand. Y/N shook her head at his antics, rushing to get inside so he wouldn't have to hold it any longer for her.

Once the both of them were inside, the door was shut between them. Only the light from the windows shining in for them. Luckily the balls were in an easy find because they were in a visible place. Y/N being the one who found it decided to grab it especially since Hanbin was doing who knows what behind her with the jump ropes.

The only con is that it was a high place tucked besides two boxes.

But it was doable. Getting up onto her tippy toes, she reached up. Stretching out her body to grow tall to grab it but to her avail, it failed. So she tried again, jumping with more force each time. It took the fifth try for the bag to finally budge, it slowly sliding down. What she didn't know was that as she moved the bag, it was moving the box to the right forward.

"Cmon." She muttered underneath her breath, grabbing a handful of the net to pull it forward.

In the corner of her eye, she saw the box tipping forward. Quickly, she reached her other arm out to catch it but a body came up behind her to help catch it as well.

Once she turned her head, Y/N's mind was going haywire. She could not focus with how close he stood to her. You'd think she would be used to it by now. But each time, she got a close glimpse of his face. Starstruck is what could be used to describe; her heartbeat pounding in her ears and her breath picking up a pace. Looking over the details of his face from the curvature of his nose to his soft lips, she couldn't look away.

"You know… usually, people say thank you for their life rather than just checking them out."

Her face scrunched up in disgust," I was not checking you out!"

Hanbin ruffled her hair with one hand and pushed the box back into place. He then helped Y/N pull down the rest of the bag. Y/N pulled the bag up to her chest to distribute the weight better. She tried to back up of the little corner she was in but Hanbin's body blocked her from doing so.

"What are you doing?"

Hanbin quickly motioned to her to be quiet with a finger to his lips before cupping a hand behind his ear. Y/N turned around so she was now facing him with an raised eyebrow.

"Doesn't sound like anybody got out."

A smirk grew on his face, her cheek crinkling up to look like cat whiskers. Like muscle memory, her thumb ran over the lines of one of his most beloved features.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I might just kiss you."

Y/N snapped out of her trance, her hand falling onto his shoulder and resting there. She leaned forward so that her face was under his. She tilted her head up, looking him straight the eyes. "Would you?" A loud shriek escaped from her mouth as her feet were suddenly off the floor and she was placed on a tower of mats. His arms caging her between them, slitting himself between her legs. He leaned in so close that the tips of their noses brushed against hers, his lips barely hovering over hers.

Like a game, she leaned back against the wall to run from him. His lips chasing hers, desperate for even the slightly touch. A small peck given by her. Hanbin groaned in annoyance.

He moved one hand to rest against her bare thigh while the other wrapped around her waist to pull her closer to him.

Like magnets, they stuck to one another. The space between them now closed as their bodies mushed together like a perfect puzzle piece.

The white noise of the fan mixing together with the sound of their heavy breathing. Y/N could feel the butterflies going crazy in her stomach when his hand that was previously on her waist slip underneath her school t-shirt.

The way his hands slowly moved and brushed against her a sensitive spot that evoked a giggle. Hanbin couldn't help the smile at the sound. "Come on, babe. I'm losing it here."

"I don't know. It doesn't feel right snogging another women's man."

With his forehead against hers, Hanbin frowned in confusion, " What do you mean?"

"Last I heard, you were dating Jimin."

"Jimin, huh?" Hanbin dramatically leaned away from Y/N, his arm still secured around her waist. He let out a deep sigh," You're right. I shouldn't be having such thoughts about another man's woman."

This time, Y/N rose her eyebrow up in confusion.

"With that junior."

"Oh, Matthew?" "What was going on there anyways?"

"He asked me to the formal."

"Oh is that right?" Hanbin wiggled his eyebrows," How cute is that?"

"Shut up." She pushed at his shoulder that didn't budge at the movement.

"Did he give you flowers?" A peck on her forehead," Balloons?" A peck on her cheek, " What color are you two wearing?," A kiss on her lips.

"You're soooo annoying. I said no to him."

He tucked a strand hair behind her ear, " Good. Because you're mine."

"Yours? I'd be surprised. Everyone is saying you're Jimin's."

"Would I be in your arms if I was hers? I wouldn't want to be anywhere else than here." He ran his thumb over cheek," I'd go anywhere to be with you." Pulling her back in for a tight hug as he wrapped around of his arms around her waist.

Y/N couldn't help the way her cheeks burned. To hide her reaction, she tucked her face between the crack of his neck and returned the hug back to him.

The moment was interuppted by a rapid knock at the door that had her immediately push Hanbin off of her. His hand quickly grabbed onto hers when he stumbled back against the cushions behind him. Yunjin's voice could be heard outside of the room, asking Y/N if she was in there.

"Crap." Y/N started to push her hair back into place, adjusting her clothes back into place. "Dude, hide."

"What, why?" He whispered in a hush tone.

"Don't you think she'll find it odd if we're just chilling in here together?"

"And what's wrong with that?". It was as if he couldn't see the seriousness of the situation. A boy and a girl in a room alone was strange and questionable in so many ways. Especially with how he was leaning his body into hers again, squeezing her hand, "I think it's about time she found out."

"Binnie, just-" The door opened before she could finish her sentence, the doors were open and Yunjin was in the room with them. Luckily she was looking around the room first since they were tucked away in the corner. That quick second allowed Y/N to realize that their hands were still interlocked together and yanked her hand out of his grip. She had unintentionally done it so fast and rough, failing to see how Hanbin's eyebrow began to furrow.

"Yunjin~" She called out to the lost girl, grabbing the bag of extra balls beside her. Yunjin's head quickly snapped over in their direction, her eyes immediately looking Y/N in hers and widening at the sight and thought of the two being alone in a room together.

Y/N rose her hand up to show the bag of balls in her hands, " You came just in time. Can't find anything in this junk yard."

"Right…" Yunjin only moved only because Y/N dragged her out of the small, congested room. She frantically waved goodbye to Hanbin whose gaze were directed to the floor. Yunjin herself wasn't able to figure what emotion he was showing but couldn't help but see that he resembled a kicked puppy on the side of the road.

Finally breathing in some fresh air of outside, Y/N threw the bag over her shoulder and began walking back to the game that wasn't even halfway done yet.

Behind her, she could Yunjin jogging to catch up to her. Whispering yelling underneath the breath that she couldn't wait to tell Zhanghao about how Y/N got to spend time with her "crush". _ Yunjin has been Y/N's best friend since kindergarten. There is no Y/N without Yunjin and there is no Yunjin without Y/N.

So maybe it wouldn't hurt for Y/N to tell about Yunjin about the fact that she isn't single and has a boyfriend that she's been with for six months now. Also that the boyfriend is Sung Hanbin who she has been gushing over and slightly obsessed with since middle school. Yunjin rambled on and on that she was happy that Y/N was able to interact with Hanbin especially after all these years and that she totally thinks that Hanbin is into her despite the fact that in the two minutes that Yunjin saw them together, Y/N tried her best to not look over at him in fear that she would reveal things just by the way that she looked at him.

Maybe it wouldn't be too bad if they went public.

Jimin and Hanbin's friendship never bothered her especially since she knows Jimin views as a brother. But maybe going public would also put a halt to all the rumors about Jimin and him that irked every time she thought about it.

Y/N pulled her shirt over her head to put on her button up instead. Currently she was in one of the empty shower stalls. While she's known most of the people out there for long as she has been attending public school, she preferred to have privacy while changing.

While clasping the buttons together, she got a big whiff of cigarette smoke.

The shower stalls had a vent that was just placed perfectly on a wall that has an alley on the other side where all students that smoke hid to have their daily dose of those nicotine sticks.

She opted to ignore it as it was none of her business and all she had left to do was to tuck her shirt into her skirt. As she pushed the bunched cloth into the hem, her movements halted when she heard the mumble of her name.

"Yeah, she was with him most of the time."

"Damn that sucks! Weren't you trying to be his partner in the game? Isn't that why you brought it up to Coach Kim?"

Y/N inched closer to the wall, keeping up onto her tippy toes as the vent was so far high up on the wall.

"And he partnered up with Y/N instead?"

The girl let out a long and heavy sigh, seemingly taking a drag of her cigarette before continuing her rant," Partner up? More like she leeched herself onto him. So annoying. Then they were the first to get out."

"Oh my gosh. Hanbin must've been so annoyed. He's literally the best at any sports he plays."

"Right? Then they disappeared off and I never got to talk to him because by the time I found him, he was already with his friends."

"What? Didn't you get out right after Hanbin and Y/N?" The other girl let out an horrendous cackle," And way to make it so obvious. I'm so surprised that Coach didn't say shit about that. "

"That old man is tired. I was doing him a favor by making the game shorter. But anyways, I couldn't find him. Gosh it was so annoying."

"Oh well. The time will come."

"I could've gotten it over with if Y/N wasn't in the way."

"Hey… at least you know she isn't any competition."

"Right? In no way would Hanbin ever go for someone like Y/N."

"You're like 10 times prettier than she is, hands down."

"Girl, I already know that. Like literally he is way too good for her and if she confessed like anyone else would, let's just pray for her because that wouldn't end well."

Having enough of this conversation, Y/N threw on the rest of her outfit and snatched her backpack out of the ground. Pushing past half of the girls, she rubbed at the tears that were fighting to come out. She couldn't believe she was crying because of a gossip. She couldn't believe she was running away from Yunjin who would be the one to comfort in times like this.

She couldn't believe she was dumb enough to even think that the world would accept them. _

A kiss on her neck distracted her from the spam of messages coming from Yunjin about how Matthew asked about her after school. The culprit’s hand pulled the cellular device away from her and placed it on the night stand. Hanbin’s warm hand coming back down to run over the exposed skin of her midriff. A giggle escaped from her lips as he began to lay multiple pecks running down to her collar bone.

Pushing him off slightly, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get your attention.” He pouted,” I’m so tired and all I want to do is cuddle with the hottest girl in school.”

“Hottest girl?”

He hushed her, bringing up his index finger to her lips.

“But she’s too busy talking to her friends that she spends 24/7 with.” He dramatically sighed, allowing his body to fall on top of hers. Tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

“Oh shut up. I know you chose me as your partner on purpose during that game. I don’t want to place blame on anybody but if you weren’t too hyperfocused on hugging me the whole time, we could’ve won.” No snarky response was heard. Instead, she could feel him breathing in her scent that had her scrunching her neck in response.

“Dude, I probably smell like sweat.”

“No, you smell so good.” His voice muffled,” Like cheese.”

Pushing him off again, she mumbled underneath her breath,” Idiot.”

“I wanted to get out first so I could spend time with you. Don’t act like I don’t know yours and Yunjin’s secrets. But she just had to get out so soon.”

“Well you have me all to yourself now.” Y/N pushed back his hair out of his face. Like a puppy, Hanbin gleamed at the gesture and words that came out her mouth.

"By the way, what's your favorite number?"

"_" She raised her eyebrow up," Why?"

"No reason."

"You sound very guilty right now."

He pulled his phone out and began typing hurriedly on his phone. Y/N propped herself up into a 45 degree angle, trying to get a peek of his screen but Hanbin quickly hid the screen with a devilish smile.

"Heyy…" She began poking his shoulder, hoping to annoy him enough to get him to give in. But instead, Hanbin took the opportunity to roll over and lay his head on her stomach. He grabbed her hand that was poking at his shoulder and began to nibble at her finger.

“Stoooop, you little vampire.”

Hanbin placed her hand onto his chest, bringing his phone up high enough so the both of them could look at his screen.

"You're going to put that number on your jersey?"

"Yeah, I want to show that I'm yours somehow."

"That's pretty smart."

"Told you I was."

"Mhm and that's why this was suppose to be tutoring session for your D on your latest Stats test." Hanbin shushed her before pulling up his Instagram and successfully distracting them again from changing their cuddle session to what it was suppose to be before which was a study session.Occasionally they would laugh at the reels that would pop up but his feed was full of a lot of people she didn’t really know or talk to. So Y/N resorted to playing with the strings of his hoodie. Suddenly the loud commotion of earlier today caught her attention. Looking up, she saw an angle of Matthew’s proposal. Someone had sent a video to the school’s instagram account to post for the Assuming where the camera was, it was his friend that was recording earlier today.

She could feel herself physically cringe at watching it all go down again. Expecting Hanbin to laugh about it, she quickly covered his mouth to intercept any sort of teasing that may come to his head. But instead his face remained stoic and he sat up, her hand falling down to her side. He was hunched over as he rewatched the video again.

To get jealous was rare for Hanbin. In the time frame of their whole relationship, which isn’t long but isn’t too short, Hanbin has never showed any signs of jealousy except for one incident before they started dating. He was pretty confident in himself and the two of them always reassured one another that they were the only ones that had each other’s eyes.

“Wait, what’s wrong?”

“You didn’t say no.”

She sat up fully as well, scooching closer to the end of the bed where he sat. “Well, I’m planning to.”

“Why didn’t you say no right then and there? You told me that you did.”

“I just didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his friends.”

“It seems like you’re going to say yes to the guy.” He pointed at his phone.

“But I’m not. I’m planning to say no.”

“He doesn’t seem to think so.”

“I’m going to tell him no!” And while they were on this subject, she couldn’t help but bring up something that’s been bothering her as well,” Why aren’t you denying the rumors about Jimin?”

“What rumors?”

“There’s rumors that the two of you were behind the bleachers and that the two of you are together.”

“Well first of all, the girl I was behind the bleachers with was you. And those rumors have been around since the minute people realized that we’re friends and hang out in the same friend group. It’d be weird if I deny them now if I never acknowledged them before. Besides, those rumors have never bothered you until now. Why are they bothering you now?”

“Then why are you so bothered that I’m planning to say no later? You know I wouldn’t go to the dance with somebody else.”

“I asked you last week and you straight up told me no. He asks you and he gets a, “I’ll have to see. ”

Y/N ran her hand through her hair in frustration. “You know why I said no to you.”

Hanbin returned his gaze back to the dark screen of his phone,” Yeah… yeah… I know. Everyone is going to have something to say about you and me and it’s just too much attention.”

“If I told Matthew no right away, I wouldn’t hear the end of it, especially since he did it in front of so many people.”

The two in silence. Both coming to their conclusion. Y/N came to the conclusion that the both of them were in the wrong and getting a little too jealous. But it didn’t feel like everything was said as Hanbin stayed perched at the end of his bed, his phone back on and scrolling through the comments underneath the video. She reached out an arm out to him but he abruptly stood up. He was quick to grab his duffle bag which was tucked away beside her closet.

“I’ve got tryouts.”

“Binnie…” Getting up onto her knees and was about to get up off the bed to walk over to him but he stopped her ,” Cmon..”

Using his hand on her shoulder to guide her back down into her bed, Hanbin leaned a placed a kiss on her forehead, “I'm sorry." He brought his hand up to cut her cheek, running his thumb along her cheek," I overreacted. I'll see you later?" Even though he looked her in the eyes and said that. She struggled to believe him. Reluctantly, she nodded her head slowly. Before she could even utter another word, he was out of the door and down the stairs.

Despite facetiming later that night, Y/N still felt there was something on Hanbin’s mind. Like he still had something to say. That morning too, she didn’t receive a message from him telling her to have a good morning. 

Not that she wanted him to always send it but it was so out of character for him not to. 

So she couldn’t help the pain in her chest when he walked past with her friends like she didn’t exist.  But this was something that was a regular occurrence. She was the one who told him to do that. So why did she want him to look at her? 

A tap of her shoulder shook her out of her shoulder. Turning again, she found Matthew with another flower in his hand. He motioned for Y/N to take it. The girl slowly took it from his hand. Honestly, she was trying to avoid him until after the dance so that the whole proposal would be useless and forgotten but she already knew that was impossible. 

“So?” 

“Matthew… I’m sorry. I can’t go.”

“Didn’t you say it was about money? I could pay for your ticket!” 

For some reason, even though Matthew was in front of her, she couldn’t help but look over at Hanbin who was leaning up against a locker, talking animatedly to his teammates every so often.  

“No… No.. it’s something else. I just can’t go with you.”

“Do you mind me asking why? I mean I know we don’t know each other all that well so I think that this would be a great time for us to get to know each other.” 

“You’re quite persistent, you know?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all.” 

“Okay, Matthew, it’s not something else. It’s someone else.” Feeling apologetic, she held his hands in hers ,”It doesn’t feel right for me to go to the dance with someone when I’m completely and utterly in love with someone else.” 

“Is it Hanbin?”

She looked back at him in shock, “Woah, how’d you figure that out so quickly?” 

“I mean, minus the fact that you won’t stop looking over at him, I think the bruise on my leg is clear evidence. He was super nice when everyone first got there and he was even giving me tips but then I mentioned my proposal to other players to make myself look cooler because they were all calling me kid because how short I am and he started getting rough.” 

She knew it. She knew he was still bothered about the proposal. 

“You used me to make yourself look better?”

“ I’m sorry for that. I honestly deserved getting roughed up.” 

“Yeah and for also thinking that I could up your game in any way.” Y/N laughed at the thought but Matthew looking at her with an incredulous look as if she were insane halted her from continuing on. 

“What do you mean? You’re one of the coolest and sweetest girls I’ve ever met. Anybody that could have you would be lucky to have you.” He shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing. “ I just don’t understand why I never see you two together.”

“Well he’s him. And I’m me. People would just look at us weird and question how someone like me could be with someone like him. Like he could do better, you know?” She didn’t know why she was spilling her feelings out to someone she barely knew. But it felt so good to say it aloud. 

“Who cares about what everyone else says?”

“Me. Because I will have to hear the disapproval from everyone and how strange it is that we’re even together.”

“What matters is that the two of you like each other and that’s all that matters. Anybody else that cares and has something to say needs to get a life. And to stop watching so many movies because this is real life and those “status quos” don’t exist.” 

The first bell rang signaling that their first class was about to start in 5 minutes and they needed to go now. Matthew leaned in and kissed Y/N on her cheek before she could deny it. “I truly wish you will take in what I say. Don’t hide your relationships for the sake of people you shouldn’t care about.” 

The younger boy walked away before she could even say anything, leaving her dumbstruck. 

Someone colliding into her shoulder snapped her out of her thoughts. 

Matthew's word ran over and over again in her head like a broken record. The way he tells her like it's so easy to do so.

Maybe it is if she learned to not care so much.

The second bell warning pulled her out of her mind. The teacher from her calculus was beginning to notice that she was starting to come late to class a lot more than she should be. She bound to pull her aside to talk about it soon. Pivoting around, she rushed up the stairs to her first class. 

Hanbin stood by himself at his locker now. His hands tucked into his jeans as he watched Matthew walk away. His jaw clenched tight as the loud slam of his locker echoed through the empty hall. 

_ 

Apologies spilled from her mouth every millisecond as she hovered through the crowd to get to the entrance of the tunnel where the basketball team gathered. 

The pep rally was about to begin in 10 minutes and she managed to escape from Yunjin and Zhanghao to be able to talk to Hanbin. To talk about their argument last night and their relationship. Because Matthew was right. Why do other people’s opinions matter? But there was still that fear and that voice in her head that told her that wasn’t a good idea.

Finally reaching an area that had some elbow room, she maneuvered past the associated student body to where a large group of boys in the school’s basketball uniform circled around who knows what. Not seeing the face she wanted to, she decided to see if he was more towards the front. 

“Excuse me.” She squished past the sweaty boys and landed at the front where she found the cheerleaders putting face paint on students and athletes. The boy she was looking for had his legs spread out so he could be the same height as the girl in front of him. The girl dangerously close as she held onto his shoulder, her head leaned in to ensure that the lines she was painting on his face were perfect. 

When she leaned back to laugh at something Hanbin said, Y/N realized then and there that it was Jimin. 

She had to think about what she was going to do next. If she was going to do something that she regretted because of that green feeling that was currently bubbling in her chest. First, she knew that Jimin was a sweet girl that would never take another person’s boyfriend and she never cared about her friendship with Hanbin because what she had with him was so secure. Second, she wasn’t so sure how secure they were anymore and it wasn’t like Jimin knew that Hanbin was tied down, it seems like all her actions were definitely advances to something more. 

So now here Hanbin and her in a janitor’s closet where she pulled him away from a confused Jimin. Y/N muttered something along the lines that she had to talk about something from Chemistry despite that class being one that took two years ago in their sophomore year.  As she walked away, she could hear people asking questions such as, “ who is that?” or “If I was Jimin, I’d be upset if someone was touching my man like that.” 

“You expect me to be okay with dating rumors when you’re going around, acting like that?” 

"Y/N, she was just putting face paint on me." His eyes remained away from you and on something in the background. Trying to avoid her glare.

“She’s all over you and it annoys the hell out of me. Yeah, I didn’t care before but I care now.” She couldn’t believe the words that were going to come out next,” If you want her, then go ahead and go for it. But you have to let go of me first.” She didn’t mean a single word.

“Did I actually ever have you?” 

Y/N stopped her prancing in the small room and turned her body to look at Hanbin who was already looking at her.”What do you mean by that?” 

“Sometimes I'm just here for fun. For the pleasure of it all. Our dates consist of hanging out in our houses and occasional dates outside of the city because you are scared to be seen by anybody else. Here, I have to act like you don’t exist and you act like I don’t exist. I want to brag about you to my friends but I can’t. I even have to remind my mom not to say anything about you to them even though she absolutely is in love with you. And I assume you never told yours about me because of how you hid me away from Yunjin. Are you that ashamed to be with me?"

“Binnie-”

“I want to hold your hand when I want to. I want to kiss you when I want to.” And he too could feel that green monster building up again at the memory from earlier today. .

He saw that? Y/N waved her hands and shook her head,”It’s not what it looks. I didn’t know he was going to do that and I wouldn’t have wanted him to do it if I had known. I’ve told you multiple times that Matthew and I have nothing going on.” 

“ Then why aren’t you believing me when I say that Jimin and I aren’t as well. You’re asking why I care so much about Matthew? It’s not Matthew that I care about. It’s the fact you have never been so open to talking to me in public  and you didn’t even push him away when he kissed you even if it was a simple one on the cheek. You didn’t say no to his proposal so now I have to hear whispers about things I know that aren’t true. And I get why you did it so people wouldn’t talk but there is inevitability some. Why can’t you let there be whispers about us?”

She  watched as his face scrunched up, his fingers running along his forehead to massage the tension headache forming. “Y/N, I’m just tired. I’m so tired. Of running around. Of acting like I don’t care that we have to hide.” The pain in the chest made it hard for her to breathe as she could feel the three words threatening to come out of his lips.

Wanting to cut him off to tell him that she didn’t hide them anymore, his phone rang frantically. They let it go to voicemail but right after, it rang again. 

Though the both of them didn't budge a single movement for what felt like the longest time, his phone went off again after the other one finished. Hanbin pulled the device out of his pocket, letting out a sharp exhale. “I’ll just tell them to go on without me.” 

Before he could lift up the screen to see who it was, Y/N shook her head, “ It’s fine, just go.” 

“No, I’m not leaving us like this again. It’s just a pep rally. I don’t have to be there.” 

“And if you go missing, the whole school will freak out. Personally, I don’t want to be the reason that the school star player is missing.” 

“Y/N, this is it. This is what’s wrong. Who cares about what anybody thinks? Do you not have anything to say about this?” 

“I’m trying, Hanbin! I’m trying. But everyone you miss a basket or the team is having a off day, I have to listen to the crowd talk and assume things about you guys. And most of them talk about you being distracted and having a girlfriend. I don’t want to be blamed for that and have everyone scrutinize me. It’s also the fact that no one could ever imagine you with me. It’s always Jimin. It’s always who the heck is that? whenever they see me with me.  Shit, even Zhanghao can’t imagine us together.”

“But we are. And people are going to have to accept that.” Hanbin hung his head back. “And I’m trying my best to just do what we’ve been doing. Keep our relationship a secret but I can’t find the strength to go on anymore. Because sometimes I feel like I love you more than you love me. And I honestly don’t know if I can stay any longer, feeling that.” 

Her heart thumped at the three words. They haven’t said I love you to one another yet. Always dangerously on the tip of their tongues but never finding the right times to do so.

And this wasn’t the context in which he was hoping he was going to say it.

Her attention shot back into the room when Hanbin’s phone rang again. He cursed under his breath, seeing his Coach’s contact name on the screen this time. “I’ve got to go.” 

A silence granted permisssion to end the converstion. Hanbin slowly grabbing his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. Y/N let out a shaky breath as he began to pass her, their shoulders brushing against each other.

“I love you, Hanbin.” 

The sounds of his shoes signaled that he halted in his steps. She could hear him let out a breath of air before starting to speak.

Then the door slammed open. The short, stubby janitor shouting out,” What are you two doing in here?”

(a/n: i meant to put sports, not spots! so sorry for the typo)

After the janitor caught them, his screaming caught the attention of the basketball coach who was searching the hallways from Hanbin. The star basketball player was pulled away from her before he could even reply to her declaration. Though he could see Hanbin struggling to get out of the older man’s grip, looking back at her every so often until they turned the corner to the gym. 

It was true she wasn’t feeling all that well. The dizziness from nervousness and the bile rising up her throat, trying to imagine how it would be if they changed the premise of their relationship. Truely, she needed to lay down before she fell to the cold, dirty ground of the hallways. 

She hoped that he saw it to be true and not said out of desperation to fix their falling relationship. Checking the clock in the corner of the room, she wished the time would go by faster so they could finish their conversation and she could tell him how much he means to her. 

Multiple buzzes from her phone prompted her phone to check whatever her friends had to say now. She could feel her heart drop to her stomach and bile rising up her throat again. This time there was no way to stop it from coming out.

Opening the notification from her friends and repeated tweets from the school's gossip account. The recent headline highlighting Yoo Jimin asks Sung Hanbin to WakeOne's annual winter formal! He says yes! The photos showing different angles of the proposal. A clear look of surprise on Hanbin's face as flowers handed to him from left and right from other cheerleaders. The last photo shocked her gave her a sharp pain in her chest as Chaewon's arms were wrapped Hanbin's neck, his eyes only simply looking down at her face. His hands nowhere near to pushing him off.

Covering her mouth to control her impending sobs, Y/N quickly stood up to run over to the trash can to empty the contents of her stomach. Though Hanbin hadn’t outright said it, she could feel him putting that pause or ending their relationship in the last sentence that he had spoke to her.

He was going to be with someone that treated him right and was perfect for him.

She had her chance and she lost him. 

Turning to look at the school’s nurse, she raised the question if she could stay for the rest of the day to avoid and hide her problems outside of this room but she was already scribbling down a note, shaking her head at the disgusting smell.

_

As the last bell rang, Y/N apologized to the nurse who told her that was nothing and to rest as it seemed like she was sick from stress. And the stress was beginning to take a toll on her body.

Y/N could only imagine if the nurse knew what type of stress she was going through. She would shake her head at the teenage girl.

The nurse began prepping the word and just as Y/N was about to sit down to wait, the door bursted open. A disheveled Yunjin appeared. She slapped a hand against her forehead and shook her head,” No fever.” She grabbed Y/N's face by the chin and twisted it around to check if there was anything abnormal but nothing. “Girl, you look and feel fine. So you left me alone to those heathens for nothing?” 

"Tell that to the three times I've thrown up in the past hour. Guess I should’ve trusted you and just threw away that 6 dollar boba.” 

"I could always buy you a new one. Are you feeling better now?” 

“Yeah kinda..”

Yunjin linked arms with hers,” Great, then, let’s go meet up Zhanghao to check if he made the team or not.”

“I’m actually going to head home right now. I’ll catch the two of you tomorrow at the game-” 

“Oh my gosh, noo! He’d kill us if we forget the promise we made with him.  We have to be there for him to either congratulate him or console him with a dinner.”

“I know but I still don’t feel all that good.” 

Yunjin hummed in response. Although not completely convinced to let Y/N go home. While Y/N waited for the nurse to complete the last of the paperwork, she saw in the corner of her eye a familiar tall figure.

Maybe it was her nerves that prompted her to do so but she grabbed Yunjin who was completely thrown off by the change of energy in the environment. Y/N quickly pulled them both behind a curtain just in time for the door to open again.

"What are you doing-"

Y/N covered the brunette's mouth, peeking through the small slit of the curtain.

Hanbin stood inside of the nurse's office, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. "Hello, by any chance, did a Y/N Y/L/N come by today? I heard some of her friends saying she would be here."

"Oh uhm..." The nurse stumbled over her words. Crossing her fingers behind her back, Y/N hoped that she could read the room and understand what Y/N wanted. "She just left."

"Oh..." Hanbin sighed. "Do you mind if I asking what's wrong with her?"

"Hanbin, you know I can't disclose other student's health with you."

A soft chuckle filled the air and Y/N feel her heart warm at the sound. But it was still heavy with the news she read only two hours before.

"I get that. Can you just let me know if she's okay?"

"She's alright."

She could see him slowly nod and tuck his hands behind his back before bowing. "Thank you. Have a good rest of your day, I'll see you at the game tomorrow."

"Good luck tomorrow, Hanbin."

She waited for sound of the door clicking close before taking her hand off of Yunjin's mouth. Thanking the nurse profusely for lying for her despite not knowing the situation, she could feel a tug on her sweater. Turning to look at Yunjin whose face was decorated in so much shock that it was almost comical, " Why are you acting so weird? And was that Hanbin just looking for you?"

"I can explain."

_

"Wait, then why did he say yes to Jimin?" Yunjin scoffed, shaking her head.

Y/N hugged her pillow close to her chest. The tears beginning to fall again. She managed to hold herself together as she confessed about the secret relationship between Hanbin and her but the reminder that they were potentially over clouded her mind. She shrugged in response.

"That makes no sense though. Because he never actually broke up with you."

Zhanghao sighed and grabbed tissues from her desk, handing them over to her.

"I'm sorry."

The two girls looked up at him in confusion. In the years that they've all been friends, they have never heard those two words come out of Zhanghao's mouth. He was very unashamed of his actions and if he was ever sorry for something, he would show it through his actions.

"That I was pushing Matthew on you. That I kept saying that Hanbin wouldn't look your way."

"You're not wrong though, Hao. He wouldn't have paid attention to me if it wasn't for us having the same part time job during summer."

"Y/N, don't say that." Yunjin nudged her with her shoulder.

"You’re absolutely gorgeous. You both are. And I kept making comments like you were less than what you are."

"It's fine, Hao."

"Yeah but still I was such a dick."

"You were just trying to help me get over him. Nothing wrong with that."

Zhanghao fell back into the plethora of stuffed animals tucked in the corner. Though all was forgiven, the male couldn't stop the feeling of embarrassment and shamefulness he felt from how he acted in the last week.

Yunjin all of a sudden began giggling which earned confused looks from the other two poeple in the room. "He was so jealous then."

A smile perked up on Zhanghao's pout, " That's right! He was going so hard on Matthew that one day at tryouts. I feared for his life."

Yunjin tickled Y/N's side, her tongue sticking out," Look at you having two boys fighting over you."

"Dude, it was making me so sick. I can't even act like I could brag about it because it was stressing me out so much."

"That explains why he was asking the nurse about you. Aw, Y/N, he was looking for you!"

"Yeah... after he said yes to Jimin during the pep rally."

"I don't know if he even said yes to her. Everything happened so quick and he didn't even smile or do anything through the whole thing." Zhanghao tapped his chin," He was just... in shock."

A sudden knock on her door silenced them all. Peeking in was her mother. "Honey... Hanbin is downstairs."

Plushies flew each side of the room as her two friends scrambled to leave the room through the window but Y/N stopped them. She kneeled to the end of her bed," Can you tell him I'm sleeping already? That I'm still sick from earlier today?"

Her mother frowned before nodding, shutting the door behind her.

"Why are you avoiding him?" Zhanghao questioned, crossing his arms together," And are you not getting his texts or calls?"

"I... blocked him."

"What? Why?"

"Hao, I just don't want to deal with all of this right now. It's too overwhelming."

"If you avoid your problems, they only get worse."

"I just need some time to think about everything, okay? I feel like I got the ultimatum that I have to choose having our relationship public or losing him. Then I also think that Jimin is so much better for him because if he's with her, it'd be so much easier because she's used to the attention. "

"But he doesn't like her, he wants you." Zhanghao waved his hands from left to right," Hence why he was crying over a photo of you and him."

Y/N covered her face with the pillow that was still in her arms," I know... I know... but if he was with her, he wouldn't have to even deal with this bullshit."

Yunjin wrapped her arm around Y/N's shoulder, "I get what you're thinking but he seems like he's all in for you."

"I know... I know... I just don't know if I'm ready. I thought I was. And what if I just disappear from his life. Act like I never in it like I was before. Then he could get over him."

"So you're just going to avoid him until when?"

"Not forever. I just need a moment to think to myself. I've already heard what he has to say."

"So you're just going to let Jimin swoop up and take your man like that?"

"What? No? Yes? I don't know." Y/N abruptly stood up, shocking both of her friends. "You guys are suppose to be helping me but instead you're making me want to throw up some more." Speaking of which, she could her stomach beginning to rumble and the feeling of something up her throat. Stumbling over sheets and pillows to the bathroom, she shut the door behind her. Praying that the fan would cover the noise.

Zhanghao huffed and pulled out his phone. Yunjin decided to keep quiet and watch the show that was put on before Zhanghao came over. When he becomes stressed or annoyed, he tended to find comfort in his phone especially when he's trying to calm down and not blow up on the person he was talking to.

But at that moment, he was currently texting Hanbin to tell him the truth. For two reasons he did so. One, so he didn't have to watch his friend mope around. He disliked seeing Y/N upset especially when she begins to self deflect herself. Two, so he doesn't want to have his teammate mope around when their first scrimmage is tomorrow. While it wasn't a real game, it was still a pretty big deal.

After Zhanghao and Yunjin left, Y/N went downstairs to wash and put away the dishes that they used. Sitting on the couch was her mother, catching up on the shows she missed while at work. In front of her on the coffee table was a white pharmacy bag and bento boxes that were opened up. She walked over to see Mrs.Sung's infamous rolled egg omelette.

She always mentioned to the older lady that she makes the best.

"What's this?"

"Hanbin brought this earlier when he came by. He told me you went to the nurse's earlier that day?"

Y/N sat down and nodded. "Wasn't feeling too well."

"Well, he brought you medicine. Mrs.Sung made you congee. It's on the stove."

Using her finger, she took a peek into the bags and boxes. She could her heart melting at the sight, a note at the bottom of the bag from Hanbin. The message was short with the simple words of Get Well Soon but it meant so much more. The way he went home after practice and still came by her house to drop all of these things off despite it being a bunch of back and forth.

She could feel her mom side eyeing her and honestly, she would too.

The words replaying in her head of how he felt like he was more in love with her than she was with him. Which simply just wasn't the truth and it pained her heart to ever think that he thought that way because her actions are what prompted him to believe so.

She pulled out her phone to text Yunjin and Zhanghao if they could help her for what she was conjuring up in her head. She passed Hanbin's contact in her favorites. Debating if she should unblock him or not. Scared of what's to come next. But in order to get to the next step, she had to. Quickly, she unblocked his contact.

Soon, a spam of notifications appeared. Stating that she had 6 new notifications from messages.

As she read through the messages he sent her, her vision began to blur from the tears brimming her eyes. Hearing those words written out so beautifully by him.

Cursing herself for realizing it too late. Through every comment she's heard that upset or scared her, she was given the constant reassurance by him that she'll be safe with him. Through everytime she considered that they should break up, she always told herself that Hanbin is worth it all.

Hanbin will always be worth the pain.

_

Though she tried to talk to Hanbin earlier in the day so that it wouldn't seem like she was ignoring his texts from the night prior, it seemed like the world wasn't against her today.

Because of the game tonight, the basketball team was able to leave during PE so she missed him in their last two classes that they shared together. She was able to conjure the confidence to walk up to him during lunch but she pulled away from the planning committee to help plan for the class floats that were going to come out during halftime.

At least he knew that she was going to talk to him and wasn't planning to ignore him until the school year was over. His wide eyes and the clear shout from down the hall, telling her to come to the game tonight, an indiction of so.

It was better this way especially since she wanted to surprise him tonight and she knew she could never hide anything as big as this from him. So this no talking period between them both pained and relived her.

It also gave her more time to sneak around and plan her surprise for him in the period that she was waiting for the game to start with Yunjin. They had planned to grab some hotpot to fill their stomachs but Zhanghao forgot his shoes because of first game jitters so they had to go to his house and grab them. And while they did this task for him, he also complained that he needed it before the warmups started and told them not to take so long. Text messages rushing in every other minute to check up on where they are. He was unknowingly rushing them but they let it slide this time because they will never understand men's weird obsession with smelly clothes being their good luck charm and that it was his first game.

After giving the princess his stinky shoes, the two girls went to a nearby dollar tree to get the materials she needed for what she wanted to prepare for Hanbin. Yunjin dropped Y/N back at home so that the two of them could get some rest before heading out to the game. Yunjin asked Y/N if she wanted her to pick her up but being the person she is that didn't want to inconvenience anybody, Y/N insisted that she would walk there especially since it was still going to be light out when the game started.

She had so much running around today so who could blame her for falling asleep on the couch while watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy?

Maybe then if she took Yunjin up on the offer, she wouldn't have woken up to about 35 missed calls and 60 unread texts combined from both of her best friends. She wouldn't be frantically trying to grab everything and pay for an uber to school so she could get there before the game ended.

She slept through three and half quarters. With only 10 minutes remaining in the game.

Surprisingly with how fast she threw everything together and rushed out of the house to get into the car, she didn't trip over her foot once as she stumbled out of the uber. Leaving a hefty tip for the middle aged man who had to deal with her asking if he could drive any faster despite there being traffic to the school.

Struggling to catch her breath, she saw a large crowd of people exiting the gym. Confirming the worst possibility of all the possibilities.

The game ended on her and Hanbin was left thinking that she flaked on him.

Running towards the entrance, she immediately found Yunjin who grabbed the girl by her shoulder and pushed her away the crowd that stampeding out.

"Y/N! I tried calling and texting you. Where were you?"

"For the life of me, I could not wake up."

Yunjin sighed and began to rub her forehead in frustration," The balloons are still in my car and they should still be inflated. The game just ended and they should still be getting ready to go home."

"Then we have enough time."

"We have enough time."

Y/N took a deep breath, a shaky one that was filled so much anxiety.

"Hey, you don't have to do this. A man's love is not worth risking it all for something that you are not yet comfortable to do."

Y/N quickly shook her head," No, I want to. This is for him and for me."

Yunjin gave her a tight, warm hug," You'll do great. If all goes wrong, I'm just a phone call away and Hao will be nearby." And a quick second, the soft Yunjin was gone. A strict look on her face as she pointed her head towards the large tree at the side of the school," Let's get to work."

_

Y/N nervously tapped her foot against the pavement, crossing her arms together to gather warmth as a strong gust of wind flew by.

The sound of boys yelping and clammering of the locker room gained her attention, turning her head to find Hanbin in the crowd.

Because they are teenage boys, everyone looked the same especially after taking a shower. There were no differences in hair to tell them apart. Ignoring the side eyes and quick glances, she stepped closer to the entrance just to make sure she didn't miss.

Accidentally bumping into strong frame that immediately caught her.

"Y/N!" Matthew cheered, a wide smile at her appearance. " I didn't know you were coming tonight!"

"Oh... yeahh..." Y/N smiled softly back, her eyes darting from his face to whoever was coming up behind him.

"Did you see the basket I got? It was so intense because all of the guys from the other team were like ganging up on me and honestly I kinda rushed to throw the ball and it actually got in."

Y/N's mouth dropped down in shock," Dang, that's some real talent. But I'm sorry, I didn't get to see it. I... missed like the whole game."

"Wait then why are you here?"

Y/N leaned down to whisper," I'm actually going to ask Hanbin to homecoming."

Matthew's gasp came out louder than Y/N expected, his hands clasping down together with hers. "Dude no way!" He quickly pushed her into his arms and wrapped her into a hug as he swung their bodies left to right," I'm so proud of you. It's going to be great. I can't wait for you guys to-"

Y/N quickly pushed Matthew off when she opened her eyes and found Hanbin standing at the entrance, only a few feet away from them. He was already focused in the position the two were in, his eyes wide. When he finally snapped out of it, the emotions ran dry from his face as he cleared his throat.

"By all means, do not let me interrupt."

"Crap." Y/N and Matthew mumbled underneath their breaths as Hanbin began to storm off in the direction of the parking lot.

Without bidding a goodbye to Matthew, Y/N ran after the boy. His long legs benefitting him as whenever she thought she was caught up to him, she wasn't.

"Hanbin!" She yelled, her voice cracking as she never really spoke that loud unless she really needed to.

He stopped in his steps but continuing on.

Groaning out of frustration, she quickly ran again to grab his arm and made him face her. "Hanbin, please."

"No!" He threw her hand of his arm," You didn't text me back all night. And then I see you with Matthew. Y/N, you could've just told me what you wanted and spared me the shock because I'm already heartbroken as is."

Not finding the right words to say in the heat of the moment, Y/N pulled him in the direction of the soccer field.

Hanbin didn't resist but questions spurred out every second, telling her to say something or asking where she was taking him.

As they reached closer to the tree, she couldn't find which one it was as she couldn't seem to find the decorations that Yunjin and her rushed to do in 10 minutes. Curses sprang from her mouth when she finally found the sign. Only the sign. That wrote out Wanna Dance? in Zhanghao's chicken writing.

She immediately dropped Hanbin's hand, looking at the bare trees that no longer had his favorite colored balloons tied to them. And the lights that were scattered throughout the grass with the flowers all over the place. It looked like a tornado had blew through this place.

This was suppose to be perfect.

But it was all ruined because they didn't read the wind advisory warnings or tie down everything tight enough so that it would stay.

Tears quickly brimmed her eyes, turning back to look at Hanbin who still hadn't said anything or gave any type of reaction which worried her more.

"Binnie... I swear there was so much more. I wouldn't... I wouldn't do something as basic as this. I had everything planned and it was so pretty when I finished setting it up with Yunjin." The salty tears ran down to her mouth, causing her to involuntarily bring her hand up to rub at her eyes. Between sobs, she whispered underneath her breath," I had it all planned. I wanted it to be perfect for you because you've done so much me and I love you so much. I wanted to prove to show you that I love you just as much, if not more, as you do."

She kept rambling on and on how everything was ruined.

She would've jolted if not for the fact that his warm touch was comforting on her skin. His hands pulling her arms down so that her hands were off his face.

"Binnie... I'm so sorry. I understand if you don't want to get-"

Lips halted her mid-apology. Hanbin's cupping her cheek as he moved his lips against hers. He pushed in harder, encouraging her to join him which she did. Her arms wrapped around his neck, eyes fluttering close as their lips fought eagerly against each other.

"Don't finish that sentence." His lips connecting against hers before he pulled away to catch his breath," You know I'll always want you. I love you."

BONUS:

The group's instagram stories after Y/N and Hanbin made their relationship public.

(a/n: hello, this fic is heavily unedited so plz lmk if any part seems funky or sounds weird. i also slightly rushed the end so i apologize if it seems like that. thank you for reading. i love and appreciate you! <3)

[hrtbreakanniversary]

got my heart clenching

the consequences of the voice in your head ; toji fushiguro

pairing toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary it was easy to love toji but, sometimes, it was difficult to make peace with loving toji.

word count 4k

content warnings angstyyy, hurt/no comfort kind of, open ending kind of, grieving, self-loathing, comparing, lots of overthinking. toji's a good good dad, megumi's a lil ice hockey kid, naoya and toji r civil and almost friendly cousins in this

Breaking habits was difficult. Waking up on a Monday at seven in the morning was difficult. Love was difficult. These were all things you knew, and they always lingered in the back of your mind ready to put their claws into any thought that questioned why? Daybreak came and went everyday, sunlight got chased away by silver streams of moonlight, and these thoughts—no, facts—remained asleep, waiting for the moment to pounce onto the occasional question that flitted across your mind: why was love difficult?

You knew there was no true answer; there was no prose you could read written by a qualified doctor on WebMD that told you exactly why love was difficult. It just was. You could ask friends, family, and even strangers on the street and they could give you an answer that, in their own circumstance, ranging from calm to increasingly tumultuous, was true. But you could never get an answer for yourself from anybody but yourself. Perhaps breaking habit was difficult for Toji Fushiguro because he had learned that love—not the fleeting kind that you have when you meet a one-night-stand and immediately feel like the stars had aligned that night for the two of you, only to feel near to nothing for them until they turn into a silly anecdote—could only happen once, with one person. 

For you, breaking habits was difficult because when you were thirteen, your friend handed you a cigarette and said once you get used to it, it’s akin to the feeling of laying on your bed and the duvet is warm to the bone on a chilly day. 

Waking up on a Monday at seven in the morning was difficult for you probably because as soon as your eyes flickered open, you would see Toji staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows with a rueful look on his features. The first time you’d seen this image was the morning after you, Toji, and little Megumi Fushiguro moved into your new place. It brought a smile to your face, the kind of smile that is only worn by a person when they admire somebody when they aren’t looking. That was until he opened his palms and stared down at his fingers, right hand coming up to softly brush the empty ring finger. He’d bit his lip slightly, and you just about missed him from seeing you awake, before he reached down to the pocket of his plaid blue sleep shorts you’d gifted him and pulled out a ring—the ring, you’d realized—and placed it on the empty finger he was focused on. 

You had beat yourself up over witnessing him having a moment as private as that for the next week without his knowledge, but there was truly no way to bring it up to him afterwards organically. 

You could say, “Hey! I actually saw you put on your ring from your last marriage on your finger that morning when you thought I was asleep.” But that would, in nearly every case, not go down well.

Toji had told you, though, why this had grown into a Monday morning ritual. Well, he didn’t exactly tell you that he woke up a few minutes before you to reminisce about his late wife and their marriage, but you’d put the pieces together like you always did. Apparently, Toji’s late wife would always wake up early on Monday mornings and prepare an otherworldly breakfast for herself, Toji, and Megumi; she claimed it started off the week right, and it always made four-year-old Megumi more inclined to wake up on Mondays. In hindsight, perhaps it was silly that you clung onto that little tidbit Toji had told you in passing when Megumi brought it up, but when you saw him wake up on Monday mornings and start his day off by playing a video reel encased in his mind of Megumi’s mother, Megumi, and himself, it was difficult for you to feel comfortable by your presence around him on Mondays. Still, it was hardly Toji’s fault for missing somebody he’d spent years with who got taken away from his life so suddenly. 

You were just overthinking like you always did.

A Thursday in late June marked one year since you had been living with Toji. A year of going to sleep next to him and waking up with him there. It was a silly anniversary, and you weren’t going to mention it for it would most likely garner confused looks from the Fushiguro’s, but you still decided to cover the dining table with a variety of well-enjoyed foods between the three of you. 

There was a small photo-frame that stood in an arbitrary corner of the table where nobody sat. It was a small, old digital camera picture of you, Toji, and Megumi on a lake and camping trip your friends had dragged the three of you to. It was simple; Toji was sitting on a log, five-year-old Megumi between his legs who grinned wildly with a s’more in his hand, and you sat next to Toji with your head leaning on his shoulder. Your friend had gifted it to you on a random Tuesday, and when you smiled so wide at her, she embarrassedly brushed you off and said, “The person who printed this said there’s a discount if I get two pictures printed for the price of one. I just thought the picture of me and my husband would look good with you and your… Toji.”

Neither Toji nor Megumi had seen the picture. Well, not until the moment Toji walked in with a sweaty Megumi wearing his junior league hockey uniform. Megumi was babbling about the delicious smell until he saw the new addition to the table (after cooing at the takoyaki from his favorite restaurant and telling his father he knew he could smell it while they pulled into the driveway) and picked up the frame with his growing, stubby fingers.

“Is this from Lake Ashi?” he asked excitedly, eyes tracing every corner of the picture as if he was recounting the exact moment it was taken. When you nodded, he said, “I had such a good time there!”

You smiled, and ruffled his dark locks before retracting your hand and saying, “Go shower!”

He stuck out his tongue at you before he ran upstairs, saying something about how nobody can start eating until he’s back. 

You walked to Toji who was watching the scene play out from the other end of the table and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Hey, how was your day?” You grinned slightly as your body melted against his frame, a strange sense of euphoria enveloping you even though you’d only been apart for a day.

His arms wrapped around your waist and he bent down slightly to peck your lips. “Thrilling. I watched a bunch of seven-year-olds run around ice with sticks longer than them.”

“Sounds like a fun time,” you replied, nuzzling into his chest, right against the soft thumping of his heartbeats.

“What’s the good food for today?” he asked, stepping away from your hold and scanning the dishes on the table with a puzzled expression.

You smiled teasingly. “Why? Do I not make good food everyday?”

He snorted, and you concluded that the way he looked at you then was with love. The usual deep set of his brows were relaxed as he reached over to you and flicked you on the forehead. Lovingly. “I cook all the meals because the last time you tried, there was a fire alarm and the entire building had to evacuate.” He paused, staring at you while you opened your mouth to stop him from continuing. He beat you to it, though, by saying, “At four in the morning, too.”

“Me and Megs wanted a late-night-snack,” you argued playfully, slapping his bicep. 

“That you ended up getting in a 24 hour convenience store after running the entirety of the fire department and residents wild.”

“Semantics,” you brushed him off. Walking over to the plates, you started scooping portions and placing it on the plate until you remembered Megumi’s demand.

Your body unconsciously carried you to the photo frame and you picked it up, smiling slightly. Toji walked to stand beside you, his eyes uncharacteristically focused on the slightly overexposed picture. His fingers reached to pull it out of your hands and you didn’t stop him when he walked to the small ledge above the (fake) fireplace to place it between the small collection of Megumi photographs. It was a small gesture, but it was more than you could ever ask for.

Your mind skipped over the fact that all the other photos on the ledge were either taken by Megumi’s mother (five of them were) or had her in them holding Megumi (two of them did). Although whenever your friends had come over to your place, they’d cautiously asked you if you truly are OK with keeping pictures of his late wife in your living room and you’d always said that you were perfectly fine with it. Honestly, it was never your intention to erase her from their lives because, after all, she was Toji’s wife and Megumi’s mother. There was no erasing her, and that was fine whether or not you had a place in their lives.

When you came home from work the next evening, the house was relatively quiet. 

You walked into the living room, feet aching from having to wear short-stump heels but, still, heels all day. Every single day at your job as an editor for a magazine made you question whether or not you truly had the skill to walk around heels, even short-stump ones. But once again, the feeling of taking them off with delicacy because you were afraid the rough insides would scrape the parts of your skin your sock didn’t cover gave you a feeling of triumph. You were convinced that the day you come home without the visceral urge to shred the dark pieces of footwear into pieces would be the day you could claim you were invincible. 

You didn’t call out to Toji because you figured he was probably with Megumi, shopping and whatnot, doing simple father-son activities. He hadn’t texted you all day, and the little demon slithering through your thoughts wanted you to overthink (like you always did) and go berserk. But you had learned to tame that little demon (severely distracting yourself by doing anything and everything).

When you had changed out of your work clothes, showered under a moderately warm stream of water, and thoroughly washed your face to stave away the office particles, you sat down on the couch expecting a text from Toji. It was nine in the evening, and it was dark outside. He had never gone this long in a day without dropping you a text, even if it was just a word, and you weren’t wrong for expecting it. Breaking habits was difficult.

When you scrolled through your missed notifications and scrolled past your friends’ messages, making a mental compartment in your mind to reply to them later, you were surprised to find that Toji had, in fact, not texted you but Naoya Zen’in had. Toji’s cousin. It was simple, short, lighthearted, and it read:

missed you today!

It could have been Naoya texting the wrong person (it wouldn’t be the first time) but an itch in your mind told you it wasn’t.

??

It was simple, short, and lighthearted. You were surprised at how quickly the bubbles appeared on his side of the chat; you barely had time to exit the screen before he’d replied:

the stupid zen’in dinner is boring without you there to annoy toji

he said you were feeling sick tho. feel better

It was rude not to reply, but it was ruder for you to find out this way. Find out what, exactly? That Toji had simply not wanted you to go to the once-in-a-while Zen’in family dinner you had been to a grand total of one time. That was one incident you always pushed to the back of your mind—something you couldn’t do with the Monday morning incident(s) because they always played out in front of you, never missing a week—because if you thought about it too much, you would end up shattering your entire heart and it would all be your own, unstoppable mind’s doing.

Toji wasn’t the one to invite you to dinner last year. Surprisingly, the callous cousin who had manifested in the form of a breaker of peace today was the one to invite you. Your boyfriend had his jaw clenched throughout the entire interaction, and you were sure it was because Naoya wasn’t meant to meet you. You had been at his apartment while Megumi was in school to spend time with him when Naoya burst into his cousin’s home through the spare emergency key Toji had hesitantly given him. It started with Toji yelling at his cousin that it is actually rude to barge into someone’s house without knocking and that the rule applied even if they were cousins and yes, it still applied after they had come closer after being distant and despising each other their entire childhoods. It progressed to you making tea for Naoya that burnt his tongue and Toji telling him that you are no good with anything that heats up. It ended with Naoya bringing up the dinner and how he, too, was introducing his girlfriend (now his wife) to the family and it would be lovely for you to be there, too. He’d said something about divided fire.

The dinner itself was what you could call pleasant. You met his family and they were as civil as they could be surrounded by many people who are related to them. The entire time, though, Toji was bouncing his leg up and down and brushed off your hand when you tried to stop him. 

You do remember his mother had said something to you that ticked Toji off, and it wouldn’t take a mastermind to figure out why. 

“You’re the perfect girl to have as a daughter-in-law, dear.”

Truthfully, you hadn’t realized that Toji would see her words and level its severity higher than you would. That was why after the longest hand of the clock ticked thrice and his chair scraped against the floor when he stood up and walked away wordlessly, you were shocked.

You assumed that, today, Naoya had taken his wife to the Zen’in dinner. You could have texted her to confirm, but you knew. And you weren’t sure if you had any right to be mad at Toji over this. 

When you walked over to the television next to the (fake) fireplace, you noticed something missing. You knew it was missing because despite it only having been a day, you had looked at the picture of the three of you on that ledge for so long the night before when Megumi was fast asleep and Toji was immersed in a book and the image of the scene had been ingrained into your mind. It was somewhere beside the habits, Mondays, and love compartment. 

The picture wasn’t there.

And the only trace in the living room of you being a part of Toji and Megumi’s life had vanished as soon as it materialized. It was just a picture, but it was the first one that you had brought out in the house. Toji was the one to keep it between the other pictures, and he was the one who took it off, too. You understood second-thoughts, and you knew he probably had strong feelings about it but it still hurt. It was akin to being handed candy as a kid then having it taken away from you after the first bite.

You had been heartbroken before, but the way your heart sank into a cold abyss was a feeling you had never experienced before. You weren’t sure if this was your heart breaking or the tendrils of a boyfriend-girlfriend argument sowing its way into the universe and you were just the first to realize it. It had been a year and a day in this apartment you were convinced turned into a home over that time. A year and a day since you and Megumi began collecting stickers from the different stores you went to and stuck to the corners of his whiteboard. A year and a day since you and Toji woke up with each other in the same room after a night of you tossing and turning, coming to almost-there consciousness when Toji would steal the blanket back from you and pull you into his warm embrace because you had a tendency to hog it. 

The door clicked and you weren’t sure when you had gone back to the couch and began wordlessly staring at the ledge. You weren’t sure when this house stopped feeling like home for you, despite your best efforts to make it one. You weren’t sure if it ever was because there were no pictures of you, Toji, and Megumi in the living room.

You barely noticed Megumi coming towards you, pressing a slobbering kiss against your cheek and mumbling, “So tired. Gonna go to bed now. Goodnight.”

When Toji was the only presence you could feel—not see, because you were sure that seeing him would ruin you when you were in this state—in the room, you continued questioning whether or not you could get upset at him over this.

So, you said simply, “I haven’t had dinner yet.”

You heard him sigh softly. When he came to sit next to you and say, “Sorry, love. ‘Gumi’s practice ran late.” You knew Toji, so you knew he probably thought it was overkill to use his son for this lie.

It was like a time bomb was ticking, and you were the time bomb. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, and he was sweet. It made you think, for a hitch of a moment, that he cared. And you knew he did. Care, you mean. Just not in the way you had convinced yourself he did. It might’ve been your fault because you always saw Toji as your boyfriend when, in harsh, world-turning reality, Toji was just your boyfriend.

You have had many boyfriends over your lifetime, so what prompted you to believe Toji was anything more serious? Just because Toji came with a past baggage that weighed just about what you could help him carry and an adorable, hockey-loving seven-year-old kid? Because he moved in with you? People move in together all the time. Hell, you lived with a girl you only spoke to when you had to make a cleaning schedule for the room back in university for a year.

“No,” you replied truthfully. 

In that moment, you were scared of how this interaction would end but you were more scared of how the words you carefully locked away in your mouth had been tampered with by some universal force and were just about to come out. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You finally turned around to look at him, and you didn’t realize you had stared over every inch of his face, as though memorizing it to a tee. He seemed to realize that, too, because his fingers fished for your hands and suddenly your hands were warm. Under his touch. 

“I haven’t had dinner.” You were sure the words would come rampaging out of your mouth, ready to strike blows at Toji where it hurt, but you were reduced to a mere shell within now and the minute you saw Naoya’s text. 

“Baby?” he asked and it hurt. “D’you want me to make you something? I can. Whatever you want.”

“How was dinner?” you asked, and you wanted to make yourself believe you weren’t waiting for a ‘ha, got you!’ moment, but you weren’t perfect. 

“We just stopped by the convenience store to get some food.” You hated that he was lying because if you didn’t know the truth, you’d believe him. Toji, you realized, was good at lying. 

“Naoya texted me,” you said, shaking your head as if you were trying to get rid of any thoughts.

“What?”

“Naoya texted me. Said he missed me at dinner.” At this point, you knew Toji could see the cracks in your facade. 

Toji didn’t reply for a moment, and you felt like you both were blessed with the silence you needed for a moment. You weren’t prepared, you didn’t have a set of bullet points you wanted to discuss with him like you usually did when you were at odds. No, this time you were discussing everything you always omitted from those bullet point lists; they were off-the-table because you knew they would do more harm than good. They would break the cycle of a comfortable relationship. 

“I didn’t think you wanted to go,” he said, sighing as he squeezed your hands lightly. 

You exhaled sharply. “Please don’t lie, Toji.”

“I mean it—”

“Please don’t lie.” If you weren’t aware of Megumi upstairs, you probably would’ve raised your voice an octave higher. Just because you felt like you had to. But as you pleaded with him, your words came out soft, delicate, and a complete contrast to the red, hot, fiery anger taking space through your veins. 

“I didn’t want you to go,” he admitted.

You had never been stabbed, but you were sure this is close to what it would feel like. “Why?” you croaked out. 

“My family, they’d start asking about when we’ll get married and… yeah. Jus’ didn’t want the hassle.”

“Will we?” You didn’t think before you spoke. 

“What?”

“Get married.”

“What?”

You changed the topic swiftly because truly, you didn’t care about getting married to Toji. As long as you had him and he had you. “Where’s the picture, Toji?”

“What picture?” Surprisingly, he sounded almost OK with talking to you and didn’t curl into himself like he usually did whenever topics such as this almost arose. Almost, because they never completely did. 

You felt like you were breaking an unwritten rule. 

“You know what picture.”

“I kept it in the room, Y/N,” he said, sounding as though he was treading carefully. As though you were a hibernating bear, ready to pounce. 

This shouldn’t be hard. Love shouldn’t—

“Why?” you whispered, closing your eyes as you felt the salty wetness build up. 

He didn’t respond, and you weren’t patient. 

“Why, Toji?—”

“Because it didn’t belong there.”

You wanted to laugh. He might as well have kicked you and knocked the air out of your lungs because the latter did happen. You found it hard to breathe under his stare, his nostrils flaring in annoyance the way they did. 

You didn’t want to ask why, because you knew why. You understood why, and you wished you could be blind to human emotion, to human flaws and errors because it would be a lot easier to walk away from this with the feeling that he was wrong and you were right.

When you stood up, your joined hands pulled away, too. If you weren’t as cynical as you were in that moment, you probably would’ve thought it was symbolic. Because a part of you was slowly pulling away from him, too. And love can be hard, you realized and accepted once again, but it doesn’t have to be dealt with all the time. 

You weren’t sure if you could continue fighting constantly with the thoughts inside your head just so you could feel that Toji is here because he wants to be, and he’s not doing it while comparing you to his late wife. It was difficult to feel you being pushed away from him and his son’s life, even though it happened in the form of a photo frame from a small printing store. But maybe, just maybe, love shouldn’t be harder than you can handle. 

“Do I belong here, Toji?” you asked, a sad smile forming on your lips. 

[hrtbreakanniversary]

thank you 🥹🥹

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒:  

‣ One of Us @forever–darling​

‣ No Swapxi Left Behind @writerinlearning​​​

​‣ Worlds Apart @vgilantee​​

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒:

‣ Love Lost @vgilantee​​​

‣ Love Me Love @hrtbreakanniversary​​​

‣ The Heart that Binds Us @loaksky​​

𝐋𝐎'𝐀𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒:  

‣  

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒:

‣

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒:  

‣  

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒:

‣

‣ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎: 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

[hrtbreakanniversary]

JUJUTSU KAISEN: s2ep4 // JUJUTSU KAISEN 0: The movie