#and the amount of detailing I want would change the piece enough that I’m okay with just letting this out rn

[chocosvt]

best friend’s brother

⚬ pairing: joshua x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 37k ⚬ warnings: alcohol, mentions of unsafe sex/unplanned pregnancy  ⚬ genres: timestep, romance, angsty angst, major feels abt having a crush, lots of flirting, smut, drama, happy tears.

✧✎ synopsis: joshua happens to be your best friend's older brother. he's pretty, and he's got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.

 ✧✎ a/n: this is a rewrite of an old fic that i uploaded in 2016. keep in mind the original version was only 13k! i've made so many changes to this story and i really hope those who read it enjoy it! thank you sm!

⇢ here is this fic’s inspo playlist ⇢ smut section is marked! ⇢ taglist included in final author’s note

13.

You flipped to the next page of the plastic binder and squiggled a small ‘seven’ inside the margin. Then, your eyes wandered back to the math textbook sitting in between you and your best friend. It was difficult to study on Jennie’s bed, but she liked it that way, and there definitely wasn’t enough room at her desk.

“Okay, this part shouldn’t be too hard,” she said, using the tip of her pencil to trace the question, “we just have to graph this line, and we already know the y-intercept is going to be negative three.”

“This would be so much easier if the teacher handed out graph paper. Look at this grid I just drew, it’s so ugly.”

Jennie leaned over her left shoulder to look at your binder and started laughing. It was probably the saddest grid in history.

“I have a ruler somewhere,” the girl offered, pushing up onto her knees and patting around the bed, “at least, I think I do… or—maybe he took it. Yeah, of course, he definitely has it, stupid idiot.”

“Who? Joshua?” You asked.

She huffed again, sliding back onto her stomach.

“Mmhm, told me he needed it for his physics homework,” she uttered the word in a fancy-established way, as though she were making fun of it, “he never gives back any of my stuff.”

The only thing you could do was swallow and nod your head, meanwhile this awkward smile was slapped onto your mouth. You loved Jennie, you really did, but the only reason you agreed to homework and supper at her house was because of a very specific reason—this was the one night her older brother didn’t have any guitar or baseball lessons, or some outing planned with his friends. And, well, you hadn’t seen him at all since you’d gotten here, but he’d inevitably have to come down for dinner. Joshua, that was his name.

He was about two years older than you, and despite never having a conversation with him before, there was a lot you already knew about him. For example, Joshua always wore the same beat-up pair of white converse sitting in the front foyer. He liked collecting these weird, colourful band t-shirts and he routinely made Jennie bring him a piece of Double Bubble whenever he didn’t have any. It was pretty unimportant information, actually, but not to you.

“Shoot, it’s almost time for to eat,” Jennie announced, looking back at the alarm clock on her bedside table, “my parents will probably call us down any minute. Guess no more homework.” She flipped the textbook shut and cleared all her notes away. “Also, what do you want to do after dinner? My mom said we can walk to the river. We might be able to catch some frogs.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, we should do that.”

“Totes,” Jennie smiled, “okay, I’m gonna see if they need any help setting the table. Hey, do you wanna grab Josh from his room? Tell him to come down?”

Almost immediately, you shot up onto your knees.

“Me?” You reiterated, aiming a finger at yourself.

Jennie threw on a small wool cardigan from the spine of her desk chair, tilting her head at you in amusement.

“Mmhm. Yeah, you. Who else is in here? Just grab him, ‘kay? And make sure you knock kinda loud ‘cause sometimes he’s got his earbuds in, so he can’t hear.”

Before you could even hope to oppose, she was already out the door and skipping downstairs, and you listened to the sound of her socks sliding against their hardwood floors until everything was silent. Okay, yes, you’d wanted to see Joshua and maybe find an excuse to say even a word to him, but as your docile, thirteen-year old self, asking him to join you for dinner was like…like asking you to take the sun out of the sky—very much impossible. But you were also too worried to not do anything, so you settled for a nervous walk down the hall, where Joshua’s door was covered with posters.

You knocked, though not that loudly.

When there was no answer, your face exploded into heat and you already questioned just leaving him to his devices.

But you tried knocking again, harsher this time, only to be met with the same poster of a woman wearing red, star-shaped glasses. You pressed your ear to the door. It sounded a little too quiet. And for some god awful, stupid reason that you could not compute, you decided to open Joshua’s bedroom door and just waltz right in like it was second nature. Except, there was no one. His room was empty, the shades fully drawn so everything was tinted dark, and surprisingly, it was quite neat for a fifteen-year-old boy. You saw his guitar propped in the corner, and some shiny medals dangling above his bed from baseball competitions.

He had a lava lamp sitting on his desk, purplish and hot yellow, which left a very impressionable dent on you, because you’d always wanted a lava lamp and this cute boy just happened to own one. You even saw Jennie’s ruler sitting next to a massive textbook on his desk, beside a tiny glass and acrylic cube of the solar system.

His room seemed like the most fascinating place on Earth.

“Uh, did Jennie tell you to come in here?”

Shoot!

It was horribly audible, that embarrassing suckle of breath you heaved in through your teeth, and when you turned around to meet the boy who was looking at you so concerningly, you realized he wasn’t mad (which was wonderful, since you already felt on the verge of tears and having this boy snap would definitely be the hand to push you over the edge). He reached out to flick on a light.

“Dinner’s ready,” you told him, your voice shaking a little.

“Okay,” Joshua answered, “are you… looking for something?”

“No, sorry, I’ll leave now. I’m really sorry.”

You didn’t know what you were saying as you stumbled past the boy blindly, but he’d moved to let you shuffle by, even tapped the door open a bit wider for you. By the time you were downstairs, you grabbed a large glass of water and chugged it, knowing that was the first time you’d ever felt this winded—the fact it had made the air simultaneously thicker and harder to breathe. Joshua came down about a minute later to grab a soda can from the fridge, meanwhile Jennie and her parents were adjusting the table.

“Do you like cream soda?” He asked you.

“My mom says they’re not hea—um, never mind.”

Yeah, say that, you thought, and he’ll think you’re a big loser.

“I’ll leave one in the fridge,” Joshua responded with a shrug.

When he popped open the tab to his drink, it started foaming and spilling orange soda onto the rim, which he slurped up quickly over the sink. You just stood there idly, watching him, thinking he was the most attractive thing in the universe, and you didn’t begin to question these feelings until you were standing alone in the kitchen.

What did it even mean to be attracted to someone? And should you really be this giddy about your best friend’s brother?

14.

You were standing outside, balancing on the edge of the curb, trying not to sway backwards due to the immense weight from your backpack—stuffed with two textbooks, a gigantic binder, and the big thermos that had held your lunch. Jennie was crouched down beside you, twiddling her thumbs as she stared at her phone. Exams were starting in the middle of June, so you two decided to get a leg up and take the study sessions to her house. Joshua was supposed to come around front and pick you up, but he was pretty damn late.

“Bet he’s fooling around in the parking lot w’Hansol,” Jennie grumbled, clicking off her phone and shielding her eyes from the bright summer sun, “I’m gonna melt. It’s so freaking hot out.”

“Do you want to go back inside and use the fountain?”

“No, ‘cause that’s when he’ll show up. He left me here once, y’know? All because I went back inside to get my gym shoes.”

“That doesn’t seem like him,” you said, smiling.

Jennie reached out her hand and you pulled her up.

“Mmhm, he just pretends to be all cute and Mr. Polite when my friends are around,” the girl rolled her eyes, “but he’s so mean.”

Mean? You couldn’t imagine Joshua being mean. You suppose he did order Jennie around sometimes, nagging her to do his chores or grab him another can of soda, but that just seemed like normal sibling behaviour. Besides, there were times when Joshua was plenty sweet, like when he’d come into the basement to bring you and Jennie ice cream (though you might’ve heard his mom urging him to do it, because there’s a ‘guest’ over). With a voice like his, you couldn’t even imagine him yelling.

“Oh! There! Finally!” Jennie flung out her arm to point at the silver-bullet car approaching the curb. “Gosh, took him forever.”

The passenger seat window rolled down, and you recognized Joshua’s best friend, Hansol, who wiggled his fingers to wave.

“You’re late,” Jennie barked through the window.

Joshua turned down his radio ever so slightly, only to shake his head and gesture for her to hurry up and climb inside. When you wriggled into the back, there was hardly enough room between your knees and Joshua’s reclined seat, forcing you to sit the uncomfortable backpack on your lap. Jennie leaned forward before she clicked on her seatbelt, giving her older brother a whack on the head.

“Pull up your chair, dummy. Give the girl some room.”

“Oh—shit, sorry.” He mumbled, and it seemed like Joshua hadn’t even realized you’d climbed into the car until his eyes glanced into the rear mirror, and suddenly, the seat was yanked forward.

Hansol turned around, “are you guys thirsty? I’m trying to convince Josh to stop at Joe’s Corner Store for some alcoholic beverages.”

“Why did you whisper it?” Jennie asked.

“Because it’s illegal.”

“Yeah, no duh. We’re all underage.” She folded her arms.

“Pretend I meant sodas,” Hansol smiled wide and gummy, revealing his rows of brace-covered teeth, “so what’chya thinking?”

“Yeah,” Jennie obliged, “I guess I’m thirsty. Let’s do it.”

Joshua was already at the stop sign, shaking his head.

“No, alright? Mom wants us home by two-forty-five. If we stop at Joe’s then we’re gonna push it, and I just got back car key privileges. Can’t you drink something when we get home?”

You were fully inclined to stay out of their sibling disputes, so you settled for looking out the window instead, watching a sprinkler shower a garden. That is until you felt a nudge against your elbow and Jennie was gesturing at you with her head to say something.

“He won’t say no to you,” she whispered between her teeth.

“U-Um,” you piped up, feeling hotter than the blacktop, “I’m, uh, really… I’m really thirsty too. Can we stop at Joe’s?”

Jennie pinched the back of your hand, murmuring, “y’have to add in ‘please, Joshua’, and sell it too.”

You were blinking at her awkwardly the entire time.

“Um… please… Joshua.”

Even though both directions were clear, her older brother still hadn’t turned yet, and from the way Jennie was clasping her hands together expectantly, you were hoping that pathetic ask was enough. When you glanced toward the rear-view mirror, Joshua was already looking at you. Honestly, you didn’t think you had the power to sway him even relatively, but then he flicked his signal to the right.

“Yes!” Hansol shouted from the front, “I’m gonna mix the cherry slush with the blue raspberry, and no one can stop me!”

“No one wants to,” Jennie remarked.

She then sent you a wink, which seemed unnecessary and kind of confusing because it felt like she was saying, ‘see, I told you.’

At your age, it was easy to take Joshua’s compliance as a gesture much bigger than it actually was, and for some reason, you already knew that. He was just being nice, is all, sweet, like he had to.

You were his little sister’s best friend.

“A large? Your brain can’t handle a large, Hansol.”

Jennie was standing behind Hansol at the slushie machine, watching him with a judgemental expression as he bent down the little handle and a bunch of icy, cherry red slush fell into his cup. You didn’t really know a lot about Hansol, minus the best friend to Joshua part and the fact his shaggy brown hair desperately needed a trim, but you did pick up that Jennie was always bickering with the boy and trying to get his attention. Most times, you ignored them.

Despite bending to your friend’s plea and asking Joshua to stop for drinks, you didn’t have any extra change lying around, even in the crevices of your backpack. Jennie was using money she earned from her allowance, and Hansol had just gotten payed the other day due to his first job at the bowling alley. You were staring at the glass display of bottles and cans across the store when Joshua came around the corner, holding onto his usual—an orange cream soda.

Pretending not to notice him seemed like a definite way to erase his presence, but you surely weren’t that dumb at fourteen.

“Are you almost ready to go?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Joshua reached into his pocket and checked his phone.

“Five minutes to get home,” he sighed, “it’ll be close—hey, didn’t you say you were thirsty or something? Changed your mind?”

You shrugged, “I realized I don’t have any money.”

“Oh,” Joshua responded, and the silence that hung in the tacky, air-conditioned sweat lodge that was Joe’s Corner Store was suddenly palpable, “I, um, I don’t have any extra on me, sorry.”

The only thing you could do was smile at him, and it must’ve creeped him out or something, because Joshua decided to turn around and go find Hansol who was inquiring about lottery tickets at the front counter. You waited outside while everyone paid, sat down in the shade provided by the cute, kitschy overhang painted with soft green and spring flowers. Joshua came outside first, which you noted from the pair of white converse that had just stepped beside you in the stones. And then, a can of cream soda was lowered to your face.

“Do you want this?” Joshua offered.

You glanced up at him, but only for an instant.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded.

When everyone shuffled back into the car, Hansol was already jabbering at Joshua to crank up the air while he rolled the slushie against his cheek. Jennie was just about to poke a straw into her cold tea when she noticed the bright orange can in your lap, which you’d wanted to hide from her. It was just that, one time she begged Joshua for about half an hour that he give her the last can of cream soda in the fridge, yet he wouldn’t relent no matter what.

But today he let you have one, no problem.

The rest of the day went pretty accordingly. You weren’t allowed in the basement because Joshua and Hansol were apparently watching ‘scary movies’ that weren’t suited to anyone younger than sixteen, even though Jennie assured you she’d already seen them and they were mild at best. You finished the can of cream soda, and you nearly had a heart attack when Jennie went to throw it in the trash.

“N-No! I, um, I’d like to keep it, actually.”

“Really?” Jennie sounded too surprised. “It’s just a can.”

“I’m—” quick, think up a reasonable lie that won’t mislead her into suspecting you only want the can because of her brother, “I’m collecting cans, like Elsie Bolger. She gets money back from them.”

“Oh, okay then,” Jennie shrugged, “it’s all yours.”

Because of that dumb lie you told Jennie, you were stuck with a hobby you didn’t even want over the summer, and a gigantic plastic bag lumped in the garage half-filled with tin. Your mom proposed that you start going on ‘neighbourhood walks’ to pick up any extra cans people might’ve throw into ditches or left at the parks, which was how Joshua drove past you at seven in the morning, on his way to baseball practice, catching a glimpse of you wandering through a slippery trench that you’d quite literally fallen into.

Great, you were now probably the biggest loser he knew.

The neighbourhood walks didn’t last too long though, as you came to realize there were a lot of disgusting, unsterile things that got thrown into ditches, besides coffee cups and soda cans.

Your safest bet was to ask the neighbours on your block, and by the end of July, you’d gotten a few people to start saving their cans for you. Additionally, Jennie offered to pitch in, and thus every Saturday you rode your bicycle to her house hoping that she’d remembered to save at least one can so your journey wasn’t futile.

Last week, you’d stopped by on a Sunday.

And not much could’ve really prepared you for that.

That morning, it wasn’t Jennie who answered the door, still dressed in her pyjamas with the little flamingos on them because she would sleep into lunch if she could—nope, it was Joshua. Shirtless Joshua. Shirtless, only dressed in sweatpants, with damp and mussed back hair Joshua. You couldn’t even whimper out one word. It was so obvious that you were trying not to let your curious, adolescent eyes roam that tanned torso of his like he was a dessert pamphlet. Your bike was resting against the garage—you could make a run for it.

“Jennie isn’t here,” Joshua said, “doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh,” you still weren’t looking at him, but at this pebble on their doormat, which was clearly very interesting, “I was supposed to come yesterday, but, uhm… never mind. I’ll just grab my—”

“You’re doing the can thing, right? Like, you’re collecting them to exchange at the corner store? I know about it.”

For some reason, your mind immediately lurched to that rainy morning about two weeks ago, when you were caked with mud and humidity from slipping around in that stupid ditch, rather than the far more logical answer of Jennie simply telling him you were collecting cans because they were siblings and lived together.

Joshua opened the door wider, “she has them in a bag somewhere. I can go look for it—uh, come in, if you want.”

Of course, sweet Joshua would never let you stand outside where it was slightly too windy and slightly too sunny and slightly too fragrant because of the lilac pots beside the front door. You definitely weren’t overthinking that gesture at all, and your mind was definitely working exactly as it should. So, you slipped off your sneakers and took a seat on the couch, waiting in complete, stifling silence as Joshua disappeared into the house. You got so nervous and fidgety that you rearranged the coasters on the coffee table and used the shiny edge of the fake fruit bowl to check your reflection.

Not long after that, Joshua came back to the living room.

“Hey, I’m sorry but I can’t find where she keeps that bag. I checked the garage and everything. You should phone her.”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll just come back next week.”

Honestly, you didn’t want this to be it. Gosh, you’d daydreamed so many different scenarios in which you were alone with Joshua, exactly what you’d say to him, how you’d laugh, and, oh—maybe you’d playfully bump his shoulder, or accidentally brush his hand, and the touch would create this insatiable, romantic spark between you and—all of those things seemed impossible.

As you bent down to re-tie your shoes, Joshua stopped you.

He then walked over to their fridge and pulled out a can.

“Cream soda,” the boy shrugged, “I mean, once you drink it, it’ll be empty and you’ll have a can for your… can thing.”

He tossed the soda to you, which you almost didn’t catch because it immediately slipped between your fingers, but somewhere along the struggle it managed safely into your hand.

“It’s cold,” you said, a very dumb observation to point out.

Joshua opened the front door. And then he smiled at you—just, a dazzling smile, so soft but kind of teasing and seraphic at the edges and made one-hundred percent worse by his lack of shirt.

“It was in the fridge, and fridges’ make things cold.”

The moment felt like it was too much. You were burning up, hardly even breathing as you slipped past him to hop outside and grab your bike off the garage door. That smile, those eyes, his voice, it was all you thought about during the ride home, feeling the sun kiss the back of your neck and imagining the warmth as Joshua.

You didn’t even use the can for your exchange.

Instead, you kept it beside the last one he’d given you.

15.

Unironically so, the day had just started and it was already shaping up to be one of the worst yet, even worse than the time you got stuck in that child’s swing at the park and lost your shorts trying to wriggle out of it. At least you could partially hide the water-lined eyes and trembling lip by stepping as far into your locker as possible, but that wasn’t going to save you from the bell.

That first physics test had kicked your ass. 

Sure, you wasted last Saturday cleaning out and redesigning your entire room, and maybe you could have stayed home Monday night instead of going to the Laser Tag Center with Jennie, but you still studied. And you still got a whopping fifty-four percent. To make matters worse, this tumultuous feeling had been sitting in your abdomen since breakfast, a twisty type sensation, like someone was squeezing your insides using their fist. It made you sweaty hot, and then colder than ice, and at one point you swore something fucking trickled out of your body when you sneezed on the bus.

Great, just great.

Bad grades, possibly poisoned, holding back a meltdown—it would have been the complete trifecta of misfortune and general misery.

But it became more of a “quad-fecta” when you glanced down the hall.

Joshua was poised at his locker, talking to Hansol, with his arm lounged comfortably around Elsie Boulger’s waist, the autumn-haired sweetheart of his grade whom everyone only had wonderful things to say about. They were laughing, and Joshua suddenly nudged Elsie in closer against his side to pop a kiss on her cheek. You didn’t want to be jealous, because jealously felt awful, like something icky and slimy crawling around in your gut that you wanted to throw up. Jennie said that Elsie was cool, and inspirational (whatever that meant), and that she smelled of a juicy, clean citrus.

Maybe Jennie was in love with her too.

It seemed like the whole world was in love with her.

Or maybe it just felt like that because Joshua had been making an increasingly bigger impression on you as a person.

He sort of became your world.

When the bell to second period started clanging, you made a snap decision to skip and escape into the music room, which was always open and empty at that time anyways. You melted into the first chair you saw. The lights were off, and everything was pleasantly dark in a way that made you feel invisible. No one could hear you snivelling or see those thick blobs of tears on your cheeks, and it occurred to you that this room was a lot more enjoyable when there were no freshman screaming through their trombones.

But then you spotted a silhouette outside the door. Your first thought was that someone had squealed on you, and now a teacher had sought to find the juvenile foolish enough to skip Careers of all courses and send them straight to detention. God, what a shitty day.

Except… oh no, Joshua.

There was nothing you could do to hide. Was he better or worse than a teacher? You didn’t know. Neither had seen you cry, and like he’d even want to console you when you’d just shoved a tissue up your nose and tears were dribbling off your chin.

“…Uh, are you oka—”

“I’m fine,” you cut him off to save the awkward space.

Joshua tilted his head, clearly not believing you because the evidence was sitting right in front of him, pretty damning.

“Well, not to be rude, but I think that’s a lie. And—” he let the backpack slide off his shoulder, “you’re sitting in the dark. I suppose if I turned this light on, you’d want to rip my face off.”

Dabbing the crumpled tissue under your nose, you laughed half-heartedly. You were surprised he was even tolerating you.

“Something like that.”

“Can I sit next to you?”

A pulse of energy shot straight into your chest.

“Why? Don’t you have class?”

He snickered, “don’t you? This is my spare, and the only acoustic guitar in the whole school is sitting in here.”

“… I excused myself,” you tucked your knees close together, and tipped your head to the chair on your right, “you can sit there.”

This was abnormal. This was electric. This was… almost too good to be true. Why should Joshua want anything to do with the girl who probably annoyed him each time she was over at his house, taking up the couch and always giggling at the top of her lungs and drinking all his cream soda? You weren’t really friends, but it could be considered more than acquaintances—enough for Joshua to drop into the seat beside you and then proceed to edge closer.

Rubbing a palm underneath your eye, you heaved in a big breath and sighed out, “I failed my first physics test. I failed it.”

Joshua pulled one foot onto the edge of his chair to tie his shoe, and you watched him shove the loose ends down his ankle.

“Almost everyone fails that test,” he said, “no one really takes it seriously, no one studies, and about four people drop. Guaranteed.”

You swallowed. There was that obnoxious rush of heat again.

“If it makes you feel any better, I got a sixty.”

“Joshua—” your voice wobbled, another tear wetting your cheek, “I got a fifty-four. And you were probably way smarter than me!”

Despite his innocent intentions, that comment did nothing but take any ashes of, ‘it’s not so bad’ and blow them into a wispy scattered dust. Leaning over into your hands, an emotional torrent gushed through you, unlike anything you’d experienced before. It wasn’t doing you any good to keep sitting here. Maybe outside would be better. Some fresh air to get your endorphins buzzing.

Once you got up, so did Joshua.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he stumbled, “I wasn’t trying to be a jerk.”

“I know, I know. I’m just having a crappy day. I mean, obviously. Everything is all over the place and I would so rather be at home crying than here.”

Joshua nodded, his eyes seeming glittery and sympathetic.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make you feel better. I thought having a little sister would make me good at that stuff, but Jennie is like a honey badger when she’s upset. No one can get near her.”

You laughed, and it cleared the weight in your throat. But, laughing also triggered that same trickling sensation you experienced earlier while sitting on the bus. And it wasn’t a little trickle, it felt like it was flowing and—what the hell, this? Of all fucking days, of all moments, your body decided now was the perfect time to get its first period. No wonder you were a mess with icy fingers and toes but a shiny sweat down your back. No wonder you couldn’t handle even the tiniest bit of pressure or stress without feeling like a being made from porcelain glass.

And why the hell did you decide to wear light blue jeans. They were in the laundry hamper and you still pulled them out because the black ones didn’t suit your top the way you wanted. 

That moon-eyed look on your face was as good an indication as any something had happened, if the firmness that had planted itself into your body wasn’t already noticeable. Joshua chuckled a little, most likely confused by your comportment.

“What’s happening? Do you need me to—”

“This is…” you heaved through your teeth, “the worst…”

He tilted his head and pursed his bottom lip.

“Seriously, if you need to go home, or— if you need a ride or anything like that, I’m okay with it. Like I said, I’ve got a spare, so���”

Your gaze wandered back to his face, prompting Joshua to shift his weight from right foot to left as you stared almost through him, like he was a piece of plastic. Even if it was tempting, you couldn’t just whip out the door with that blood staining your pants, because the way your luck was going, someone would step right behind you and how could they not notice a gigantic red patch—Oh my god! There’s something wrong with this girl’s pants!—which would undoubtedly cue everyone rushing out to see you humiliatingly crumble.

You swallowed, fumbled with your fingers, only for Joshua to bite his lip.

“Did something else happen today?”

“Yeah,” you answered, sucking in sharply, “but, I’m not sure if I can… I just don’t want to—Joshua, I—I think I just got my period…”

He was quiet at first, and that small gap between his mouth pressed shut. You were even more rigid than before, almost quivering, and it was quickly dawning on you that maybe he didn’t want to hear about your body and how it was literally leaking blood.

“Oh, that’s it?” Joshua exhaled, almost seeming… relieved?

Were you hearing things correctly?

“I thought you were gonna like, confess to a crime or something,” the boy then rubbed his neck, laughing, “jeez, you were scaring me a bit—but, uh, okay, you’ve got your period, unexpectedly I’m guessing. Have you got any pads or tampons? Or spare cloths?”

“N-No, I—” your unstable emotions, they were spilling all over again and closing up your throat and thickening your voice, “I don’t have those. I-I don’t know what to do. It’s bleeding through.”

He flitted you a careful smile, passing his hand up and down your arm for a moment, “hey, it’s alright. Just relax. Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll grab Jennie from class? She always keeps stuff like that in her locker. Here—” Joshua then wriggled off the black windbreaker he was wearing, “tie this around your waist.”

You sniffled, biting the inside of your cheek before you accepted the jacket, still feeling uncertain despite his hospitality.

“Are you sure I can use this?”

Joshua was already picking up his knapsack from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder while he nodded his compliance.

“Yeah, I can get it back later. I won’t be long, okay?”

“Okay.”

He flashed you another smile, and then slipped out the heavy door which closed with a metal squeal, narrowing the ray of light that had split across the tiles. You breathed out shakily, nose still somewhat runny and your eyes bleary, as you tied the windbreaker tight around your waist. That day was officially awful, you were certain of it, though Joshua had managed to make things a little less messy, and while it could have just been the influx of hormones twisting in your abdomen that influenced your thoughts, you were starting to really, really like him. More than what it was before.

This spark you had—it was growing.

It was turning into something much bigger than attraction.

You hauled the smooth blanket up to your chin, making no move to help as Jennie crouched by the system box underneath the television. She was trying to figure out something technical, which involved pushing random buttons and clicking her remote every time the screen flickered. It wasn’t like you knew the television any better than she did, so you settled back against the couch, throwing cheeze-it’s into the air and poking out your tongue to catch them.

“This is all Josh’s fault,” she grumbled, wiping her hands along her pants, “he always screws up the settings to play video games, and never bothers to switch anything back.”

“I thought your mom made him draw up an instruction card thingy on how to fix all that,” you answered, flicking another cheeze-it into the air, “don’t tell me you lost it already?”

“He was the one who lost it.”

“Okay, so let’s just ask him what to—”

Jennie held out the remote after tampering with the system box for the umpteenth time, and the television blipped, revealing the proper screen with the little sparkling logo. She nearly sent the remote flying from her hand when she hopped up triumphantly.

“Or, I’ll fix it,” Jennie smiled, jabbing a thumb at herself, “I’m clearly not the most tech-savvy person—and that’s probably why I kept hitting the applause sound affect during the funeral scene at our school’s last play—but I do know my way around some things… even if it took me…”

You checked your phone, “fifteen minutes?”

Tossing the remote onto the couch, Jennie laughed, and remembered to grab her bowl of party-mix off the floor (with everything but the baby breadsticks included because she always said they were most useless part of the snack). You were supposed to watch this movie for your English class, though you couldn’t even remember the name, something about a vendetta. However, before the introduction scene could even play, the door squeaked at the top of the stairs and Jennie immediately pressed pause, groaning.

Joshua bounced off the last step, rubbing his hair.

“Don’t give me that look,” he nagged, “I’m not down here to bother you, I’m just looking for our soccer ball.”

“Well, chop chop. We need to watch this movie ASAP.” Jennie said, craning her neck around to glare at Joshua as he rifled through some storage bins shoved near the basement corner.

“Yeah,” you agreed (not really, but only to back up Jennie), and stuck out your tongue, “you’re making a lotta noise, too.”

“I can’t be any quieter than this,” Joshua responded, taking off another storage lid to sort through the contents, “I still have all my notes from that movie, y’know? Not that I’d give them to you.”

“That’s why I didn’t bother asking,” Jennie retorted through a mouthful of party mix, “I jusfftt knew you’d be a dick about it.”

Finally, Joshua dug out his soccer ball.

“Does mom know you swear like that?” He smirked.

“Does mom know you lied about staying over at Hansol’s last Friday so you could actually meet Elsie at some stupid party?”

The boy stiffened, meanwhile Jennie gave him a falsely sweet grin, dropping another handful of snacks into her mouth.

“I literally payed you to keep quiet about that.”

“Oh, pfft—five bucks! Thanks Mr. Charity.”

You weren’t entirely sure if you were supposed to be hearing this conversation, though neither Jennie or Joshua seemed concerned about your presence. It’s not like you would tell, anyways, and you already knew Jennie had quite the fair share of secrets up her sleeve that she’d convinced Joshua to keep.

“This conversation is over,” Joshua stated with a smile, snapping the lid back onto the storage bin, “oh, and—” he then pointed his finger at you, “I know you won’t say anything, but pretend you didn’t hear about the party. Seriously. I’d be screwed.”

“Okay,” you gave him a reassuring nod, “I promise.”

Joshua positioned the soccer ball under his arm and ran upstairs, to which you heard him softly click the door shut. The moment he was gone, Jennie’s head slumped back into the couch.

“I sense that he’s got a dangerous influence on you.”

“He doesn’t,” you giggled, whacking Jennie harmlessly on her shoulder, “now, just start the movie before I fall asleep.”

“Fine,” the girl huffed, sticking out the remote and clicking resume, though you didn’t miss how her eyes remained on you for that extra breadth of a second, like she had questioned your answer.

You lied, of course. Joshua did have an influence on you.

But you didn’t think it was dangerous.

A few weeks later.

“Ow!”

Pulling the wooden spoon out from the pot, you shot a scornful look over your shoulder, realizing that it was Joshua who’d just bumped the top of your head with the ladle in his hand. You couldn’t help the harsh expression flickering into a wide smile.

“How’s the sauce? Is it almost done?” He asked impatiently, coming to stand beside you at the burner while breathing in the flavourful smells, wafting up and sizzling from the pot.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“It’s getting there, alright? I’m just stirring it for as long as Jennie told me to. She’s the one who knows this recipe.”

However, it seemed like Joshua wasn’t absorbing a word you’d said, rather he dipped his ladle into the sauce and stole a small amount to drink. You screeched at him, switching the spoon to your latter hand while the other just grazed his shoulder. He’d escaped to behind the kitchen island, continuing to blow at the thick sauce.

“No tasting until it’s done!” You laughed, wanting to sound as serious as possible, but utterly failing because it was Joshua.

“Too late,” the boy replied, licking at his index finger where he made a bit of a spill, “I already tasted it. Sucks to suck.”

Reaching out to the dial, you turned the heat down a little more until the sauce frothed a quiet, bubbling simmer. There was a towel next to the stove that you grabbed, using it to wipe a pretend smudge off your hands, though you lashed it across the island to nip Joshua on the chest, which had been your intent from the start.

“Well,” your arms folded, “since you betrayed my trust and tasted the sauce anyways, what do you think? Missing anything?”

Joshua leaned to the right, tossing the ladle into the sink.

“Don’t think so, but I’m also too hungry to care ‘n—hey, is anyone gonna start making the pasta?” He came to your side of the counter and poked at the rolling machine used to thin the sheets.

You leaned a palm into your cheek, “Jennie said she was gonna start, but then one of our friends rang her up, saying they desperately needed her notes for our English essay. She’s been upstairs for like, almost half an hour. D’you know how?”

He straightened his back, “how to make pasta? Uh…” he flicked the handle on the machine, watching it spin, “I haven’t done it in a while, but I don’t think it’s hard. We just need—” Joshua suddenly spun around, opening the fridge and then delving into another drawer, “eggs, some flour, salt, and, olive oil, I think.”

“Oh, so you’re going to make it?”

Joshua smiled as he organized the ingredients on the island and cuffed up his sleeves, “it’s not that I didn’t want to help. Jennie told me to stay out of the kitchen. But, she’s not here right now.”

Chuckling, your eyes danced after Joshua as he moved over to the sink, switching on the water and cleaning his hands.

“Why’s that? Are you secretly a fire hazard?”

“No, she said I’m a distraction,” he scoffed, using quoted fingers and heightening the sound of his voice to mimic his sister.  

“Really? A distraction?”

You twisted your body to follow Joshua’s every movement, watching as he opened the door to a small broom closet in order to grab an apron hanging off a hook. He nodded his head.

“I find that hard to believe. Jennie’s pretty good at blocking you out, and, well, she’s had lots of practice at it.”

Joshua pursed his lips, blowing at some loose, black hairs that had shifted over his forehead. As he was tying the strings behind him, the boy glanced up, catching your gaze for a very brief, peculiar second before he was back at the island, measuring out the flour.

“Um, yeah…” he exhaled, “she said I’d be distracting you.”

At that, you froze. Even the dreamy smile that was constantly stretching wider and wider from one corner of your lip to the other had flattened, meanwhile Joshua was already concentrated on patting the flour into a bowl shape that would support the eggs. As if directly on cue, the sauce left to simmer in the pot changed from pleasant herbs and garlic to something a bit too crispy and… burnt.

“Shit,” you coughed under your breath, quickly removing the pot off the stove and giving the sauce a thorough stir.

“I think you’re the fire hazard,” Joshua softly laughed from behind, pushing and kneading the sticky clump in his hands.

As much as you hated admitting it, Jennie had been right.

You needed to get these feelings more under control.

Later in the evening, it was almost supper time. The ribs had just finished brazing in the oven, and the pasta that Joshua went through immense effort to make (as detailed by the speckles of flour on his cheeks and the hairband he borrowed from Jennie to keep his hair pushed back) had been strained and deliciously buttered up.

Joshua whizzed by you in the corridor, still dressed in the apron as though he were orchestrating his own restaurant.

“There’s a little something on your face!” You called out to him, each word clearly sung by a much too happy smile.

“I realize that!” He shouted from inside the washroom, and you heard the sound of water gushing into the sink.

“Oh—” their mom caught you in the hallway, one hand occupied by the sauce pot and the other with a bread plate, “I’m sure I just heard a knock at the door. Do you mind getting it, dear? This sauce is superbly warm and kind of burning me right now.”

“Yeah, sure thing. Please don’t drop it!” You giggled while rushing toward the main entrance, “I worked so hard on it!”

Jennie popped up from the basement, heaving hard and dragging an extra chair as she sighed, “y’mean, you stirred it.”

“Close enough.”

Honestly, you’d never been more excited to eat. When you first began staying the night at Jennie’s house, family dinners terrified you, and no one could get you to speak more than a few words (which basically consisted of saying yes or no to seconds or dessert). But Jennie had been your best friend for a long time now, and her family seemed to adore you like a daughter. Yet, the second you’d pulled open the front door, all that energy and luminance drained from your body so quickly it was almost disorienting.

You were standing face to face with Elsie Bolger. She practically beamed upon greeting you, and presented a glass bowl that was sealed with a plastic film. Inside, you were sure there was strawberries and sliced-up bits of yellow cake.

“Elsie?!” Jennie poked her head around the corner, “oh my gosh! I totally forgot you were coming! I’m such an idiot. I’ll get another chair!”

“Oh, it’s no worry at all,” Elsie assured, “I brought something for you guys, it’s a dessert my mom makes.”

At this point, everyone except for Joshua had filed into the main living area. Jennie’s father took her jacket while their mother accepted the bowl. For some reason, Jennie handed Elsie a fork.

“That’s the special fork,” she said, “the last prong sticks out weird. I think it’s finally your time to use our most sacred utensil.”

God, that stupid fork—you briefly recalled the memory of Jennie almost squashing Joshua down onto the floor a few years ago, simply because he’d managed to swipe it before her.

“You used it last time!”

“That didn’t count!”

“What do y’mean it didn’t count?!”

“Just give me the fork, Jennifer!”

“Ow! Mooommmm! Joshua just punched me in the boob!”

“No I didn’t—my hand—you—you’re such a liar! Mom, she’s lying!”

Jennie actually had lied, though she believed it was a justified lie considering her brother had just called her Jennifer, which was a bridge no one should cross. You were glad that era was over and done with.

“Uh, thanks, Jennie,” Elsie smiled, ruffling the girl’s hair, “and, as I was saying about the dessert—it’s like a strawberry shortcake thing. It has strawberries of course,” she paused to laugh nervously, “angel food cake, and this homemade custard.”

“It looks so freakin’ good,” Jennie salivated.

Her mother lit up in an appreciative smile, “that’s wonderful, thank you so much. Joshua’s just cleaning up—he’ll be out soon!”

“Oh, perfect,” Elsie stuttered a sigh of relief, “I’m ready to eat.”

In that moment, you weren’t sure what you despised more—the half of yourself that wished Elsie had never showed up, or the crushing amount of internal guilt that felt like it was going to destroy you for being so… jealous. Elsie was clearly nervous, and sweeter than sugar, and there was no plausible reason to treat her coldly.

“Is this your first dinner?” You asked her on everyone’s way to the dining room.

“My second,” she said thickly, “I’m not very good at this stuff.”

“It’s okay. Jennie and I will try to steal all the questions, so you can just relax and eat. It’s gonna be really tasty, I promise.”

She looked at you gratefully, “that would be amazing.”

It wasn’t long until Joshua entered the dining room before everyone settled down to pass out plates. You didn’t want to stare, but at the same time, you were itching to watch as Joshua rested his arm around Elsie’s waist and pulled her in for a light kiss as well as a whisper, probably something to ease her nerves. He hadn’t taken off Jennie’s hairband yet, to which Elsie pinched his cheek.

“I like this on you,” she cooed, “it lets us see that forehead.”

“Ah, it’s blinding!” Jennie teased, using her placemat to cover her eyes, “dear god, it’s been ages since it’s seen the daylight.”

However, Joshua pulled it out, giving his head a shake.

“I only wore it when I was making the pasta.”

Elsie raised a brow, her smile tiny but clearly impressed, “oh, you made something? Now I’m even more excited to eat.”

Joshua flushed, and suddenly, he was pointing at you.

“She made the sauce—”

“Ahem,” Jennie coughed into her fist, “she stirred the sauce.”

“Which has to be the most important part,” Joshua added, pulling out Elsie’s seat before taking his own, “critical, in fact.”

“Sorry,” you then whispered to Jennie, who gave your hand a gentle slap under the table as she shook her head lightheartedly.

Dinner went by in a flash—mostly because you hunkered down into the plate and gobbled everything like some neanderthal who’d been introduced to food for the first time. The sooner you finished, the sooner you could escape the table, as well as all the little laughs and sentimental gazes passed between Joshua and Elsie. Her dessert was delicious, but you ate that quickly too, crunching your hand fiercely around the napkin on your lap when Elsie grabbed Joshua’s face to swipe some custard off his lips. Clearing your plate before everyone else was somewhat awkward, though it gave you an excuse to wash up alone in the kitchen.

Afterward, you and Jennie went into her room. The girl collapsed onto her bed with a gigantic huff, groaning in delight about how stuffed she was as she stretched into a starfish. You took a seat at her desk chair, fiddling with some coloured pencils, trying to ignore the laugh you just heard echo from Joshua’s room, followed by a yelp that seemed to be abruptly silenced in the middle. Jennie shoved herself up.

“We can go the basement if y’want,” she offered, “that way we don’t have to hear their dumb playfighting. We can watch a movie. Or if you don’t want to do that, we can take out my paint set and do those Mandala rocks. My mom said she really wants more for the back porch.”

You didn’t respond right away, instead rolling a sky-blue pencil under your palm until it slipped out onto the floor.

“How serious do you think they are?”

Jennie scrunched her nose, “what?”

“I mean your brother, and Elsie,” you winced, sensing how dramatically your stomach had bloated when you bent down to pick up the pencil, “does it seem like they’re super serious?”

“Serious how? Like, I-love-you serious? That’s the only serious I know. Unless you’re asking if they… if they like—if they’re—y’know, doing the thing. Because I have no idea and I really don’t want to know—”

“Never mind—stupid question. Forget I asked.”

Bringing a palm up to your chin, your eyes fluttered to Jennie’s windowsill, decorated with an assortment of different rocks she’d been collecting from her trips to the science museum—pink, sparkly granites that looked like hardened sugar and the tiniest angelite stones, which were an ashy sort of blue. Joshua once told you they were candy and tried to get you to bite one (which you might have done if Jennie didn’t burst in). Then, the watercolour paintings she’d taped over the glass. Your favourite was the butterfly with holographic glitter wings. It stained her floor in an opal tint whenever the sun shone through. Joshua always hated it, because he said he found sparkles all over the house for weeks after she’d finished, even in his backpack and on his pillow.

Jennie rubbed her neck, her face soft and sleepy.

“Can you be honest? I have to ask something.”

Swivelling in the chair, your toes curled, and you nodded.

“Do you like J—”

At random, Joshua threw open the door and came into the bedroom. 

“Jesus Chr-crickets! Gosh, can you knock?!” Jennie shouted, shuffling up hurriedly on the forest colours of her bedsheets.

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Not my fault you didn’t hear it.”

Jennie lopped her head back and groaned.

“You’re so—you’re just so—,” she crumpled her hands together as though she were imagining her brother’s head as a squishy grape, “—bleck! I don’t even have the words. What do you want, anyways?”

Twisting in the chair, you noticed Joshua holding onto a cream soda and a squishy packet of blue raspberry  juice that he tossed to his sister. You couldn’t tell if it was obvious or if you’d been intentionally searching for anything odd, but his hair seemed messier, with strands flicked out all over his head, and you were certain Joshua was hiding something when he pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“Mom just wanted me to bring you guys drinks.”

Jennie jammed the straw into her juice.

“Was this the last blue raspberry?”

“I think so—don’t even think about taking the cherry.”

“Woah, I’m not!” Jennie lifted her hand defensively. “Slow your roll, idiot. The cherry tastes like medicine, anyways. You can have it.”

He merely furrowed his brow at the girl before turning to you, sticking out the can of cream soda. Jennie sunk into her pillow with her head propped up, sipping loudly at her juice and narrowing her eyes.

“How come she gets your stupid cream soda? Where’s my cream soda privileges? I’m your blood. I bet you don’t even let Elsie have any.”

Joshua looked like he might snap, “can you shut—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted, “I’m not thirsty.”

If you were anyone else, it wouldn’t have been a big, dramatic deal to decline wanting a soda, but you knew it would definitely seem questionable and possibly hostile and cultivate the weirdest tension because you always accepted it whenever Joshua offered. Even Jennie was shocked, lifting herself off the pillow to stare at you in confusion, meanwhile Joshua had actually flinched, his head leaning to the side limply as though you’d just uttered some alien dialect.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“Elsie still collects for the recyclable can drive, right? You should give it to her. I can always come down later and get a water.”

Joshua breathed out sharply through his nose.

“I’ll just put it back in the fridge,” he said, almost stuttering in his movement when he turned around, trying to compute the situation.

As soon as the door closed, Jennie cackled.

“Did you break him or something?”

16.

You whacked the tip of your shoe into a pebble, struggling to track its explosive path down the sidewalk until you decided it was lost for good. But now you wanted something else to kick. Chiefly because you were frustrated. And moody. And hating the supposedly celebratory milestone that was turning sixteen. You didn’t exactly know where you stood in all the changes. Everyone around you seemed to be morphing akin to tree leaves in the midst of autumn, though you felt somewhat like a crinkled, dry leaf—one that always got stepped on just to hear the crack.

And maybe that was normal.

Maybe everyone was experiencing the same sentiments beneath all their new personalities. Except, you didn’t know who to approach or how to express this. Jennie had made friends with these two girls from her health class, and it wasn’t like she’d forgot about you, but there was something to note about how she was suddenly into white-gel tips and miniskirts and drinking an almost obsessive amount of caffeine when she used to express how much she hated all of those things combined. 

If you were to be completely candour, you missed how she was before. Jennie loved critiquing movies and painting in watercolour and could never keep a polished manicure because she loved turning up rocks or bark to catch beetles and frogs. You missed that girl so much.

But, had you changed too? Without being conscience of it?

Folding your arms tightly, you were on the cusp of punting another rock into the sun itself when a silver car pulled in close to the curb, maintaining a barely-there pace to keep in tune with your walking.

The passenger window rolled down.

“Hey!” He called from inside, stretching his neck over while flittering his focus between you and the road, “want a ride home?”

Even worse—you still hadn’t gotten over Joshua. He was eighteen now, less gawky, more piercings, a voice that was smoother than butter, but the same pair of eyes that were deep and calm and undeniably heart aching. His relationship with Elsie was rather intact. You saw them kiss every morning before slipping into your calculus class, and it was only yesterday that you’d been seated behind them during the school’s monthly assembly, a bitter taste in your mouth whenever she leaned into his side to whisper or giggle. He even slipped her an earbud so they could listen to his music instead of the principal’s boring, monotone speech.

When you didn’t respond to him, Joshua cleared his throat.

“Just—I know you don’t always take the bus, and Jennie went home with Marina, and—” his eyes shot back to the road, narrowly avoiding a pothole before he straightened the car again, “um, as I was saying, I can drop you off at home. I don’t have guitar today.”

You kept nibbling a sore patch on your bottom lip, trying inconceivably hard to pretend he wasn’t there. It was for his own good, honestly. One slip-up and your anger would pull you under.

He continued steering the wheel with one hand, the other resting almost irritably against the top of his backward baseball cap. He sighed.

“Okay, I can understand ignoring Jennie, but what did I do?”

Still, nothing.

“You’re making me look like an idiot.”

That one almost got you to smile.

“Or some weirdo who’s trying to seduce you into his car. Please, I’ve gotten the silent treatment before, and it fucking sucks. Especially when I don’t know what I did. If you don’t want a ride then—”

You finally slapped your fingers onto the handle and pulled the door open with a gigantic huff, to which Joshua stopped the car. He watched you collapse into the passenger seat, maneuvering your bag to your lap while you pressed your shoes to his dashboard. Neither of you uttered a word as he steered away from the curb. While Joshua allowed the wheel glide under his palm, he shot you a speculative glance through the rear-view mirror, teeth sunk into his lip like he was contemplating.

But then a minute or so passed, with the boy drumming his hands restlessly at the stop light, and you knew he’d ask regardless.

“Did you have a bad day?”

The silence stretched itself thinner.

“Look, that’s understandable. I can get not wanting to talk as well. I’m only being annoying ‘cause I care, actually.”

Your head tilted in the direction of the window.

“I know I’m not the first person you’d run to with all your problems, so I won’t ask you to spill them. But I’m not completely useless when it comes to advice n’ all that. I’ve gotten way better at it.”

He eased his foot over the gas pedal as the light changed. And you heard him chuckle before heaving a sigh of disbelief.

“I guess I’m not gonna get one word out—”

“You know what I don’t get?” Slipping your shoes off the dashboard, you shuffled up in the chair and rolled the window further down, feeling a gentle breeze massage the edges of your face, “I don’t get why everyone is being so fucking insufferable. Like, everyone. Even my teachers. I’m on the verge of failing calculus right now, just because Mrs. Panek is so awful at teaching. She boasts about her low class averages like it’s something to be proud of. She only pays attention to the geniuses, thinks everyone else isn’t trying hard enough.

Oh, and it makes me so mad whenever Jennie blows me off to hang out with Marina. Like, it was literally just a few months ago when she told me she loves laser tag, but suddenly it’s not her anymore, and now she’d rather fucking blaze with Marina in the washroom before class and talk about how hot her art teacher is. I mean, she used to like slasher films and stupid crystals and weird, nerdy science-y stuff which makes me think Marina’s brainwashed her. And if I have to see that one couple shove their tongues down each other’s throats on the stairway right outside the library one more time—I’m gonna fucking lose it! You didn’t just get your hormones yesterday! I’m so sick of—of everyone!

But then I’m confused too. About myself. It’s been fifty-one days since my last period. I was so scared, I bought a pregnancy test, even though I’ve never even had a boyfriend. Can you believe that? And I can’t even change comfortably in the locker room now since some girl made fun of the fact that my bra is like—it basically looks like a middle-aged woman’s bra, but I just wear them because of comfortability, y’know? But the funny thing was, that got to me, so I bought a new bra, and it’s so stupidly itchy. I’m wearing it right now and my chest feels like it’s gonna burn to bits if I scratch it again—”

You slipped a hand up the back of your shirt, undoing the clasp to the undergarment, which you squirmed off and threw out the window.

Sucking in a long, quivering breath, you felt the heat tingle across your face and melt your cheeks. With an elbow digging into the car, you rubbed two fingers against your temple, which was now pounding terribly as though someone had clocked it using their fist. A salty taste hit your tongue, and you realized that a few tears had trickled down to your jaw during the rant—that Joshua had pulled his car into the empty lot just beside the lake, overlooking the stillness of the water.

And that’s when you tightened every bone in your body, twisting your head around painfully slow to gauge his expression.

But he didn’t appear anything other than relaxed.

“W-What’s wrong w’you?” Came your very slurred, clogged-with-emotion question. “You should be telling me to get out.”

Joshua huffed, furrowing his brow.

“You’re asking me to punish you for feeling like a teenager?” He pulled up his knee, extending his elbow across it. “Why the hell would I do that? You clearly had some stuff building up.”

“I basically cursed out your sister. And I just threw my own bra out the window—there’s no way you should be calm about this. ”

He rolled his shoulders in a shrug.

“She’s not exempt from criticism. Just because she’s your best friend and my sister, doesn’t mean we have to like her all the time. And, yeah, can’t say I was expecting that. But now you’re not itchy and uncomfortable and shit, right? I’d probably do the same.”

Turning back to the window, you sought for the breeze and sunshine, closing your eyes wetly and inhaling deep. Joshua was right, you were merely human, and sometimes things irritated you. And like anybody else, you let them accumulate and fester and take up space in your chest where you were supposed to feel weightless.

“Well…” you exhaled, flicking the zipper on your backpack, “at least I’m not pregnant. I really thought, maybe I was… I dunno.”

Joshua groaned as he stretched an elbow behind his head.

“It’s probably stress. You should talk to your doctor.”

“I really just feel like falling into a hole, if I’m honest.”

He smiled at you, “want to do something?”

“Like what?” You responded tentatively.

Without bothering to elaborate, Joshua kicked open his door and whipped it shut before proceeding to your side of the car. He folded his arms on the open window, causing you to move back ever so slightly because he didn’t seem to care about how closely he leaned forward—you just knew there was a dangerous spike in your heartbeat when his gaze ensnared your own, almost pulling you into his warmth like a riptide.

“Get out,” he said, smirking, “and I’ll show you.”

And that’s when you remembered: Joshua was oddly exceptional at skipping stones. You followed him down to the rocky shoreline, in which he politely extended his hand for you to grab when you nearly face-planted your way to the water instead. He instructed you to start collecting stones that were tiny, flat, and smooth, which you organized into a pile beside your shoe. At first, you let Joshua demonstrate, closely monitoring his stance whenever his wrist sharply flicked and the stone would practically bounce its way across the calm sheets of water, leaving the neatest ripples to disrupt the surface, almost hypnotic.

“I’m not going to be good at this,” you told him.

He shook his head.

“Not about being good or bad. It’s just, a mindless task, something to relax you. Or, think of the rocks as your… problems, or—yeah, think of them as all these little irritations you just expressed to me, and each time you throw a rock, you’re getting rid of some stress.”

You breathed out hopelessly, wearing a flustered smile.

“Fine. Who knew you were so full of wisdom?”

“Wisdom is one of my many attributes,” Joshua grinned, sending another rock to dance across the water, “as you’re just understanding.”

Picking up a round, purplish stone, you flipped it between your fingers, getting a feel for its weight and texture.

“Well, doesn’t that also mean you’re getting older?”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay forever young. Isn’t that a super power?”

“No, that’s like flight and stuff. Invisibility. Heat vision—”

“Oh!” He snapped his fingers at you, “heat vision—I want that.”

“Why?”

“Because you can like, burn stuff with your eyeballs. It’s in the name. I’m guessing you didn’t watch a lot of cartoons.”

“No, I did,” you laughed, “it’s just that, heat vision isn’t usually what people would pick. Like, it’s not the first thing in their minds, y’know?”

“Okay. So then tell me what you’d want.”

“Um... flighhh—no! Actually, telekinesis.”

“Oh, so mind-reading?”

“Why’d you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“You said it so disappointedly.”

“No, I didn—you’re just wasting time so you don’t have to skip that rock in your hand. It’s easy once you get the hang of it. Try it, at least.”

Of course, you weren’t expecting much from your first throw. It vanished straight through the surface in a depressing plonk. You weren’t sure if he was mocking you, but Joshua tossed his rock next, accomplishing three perfect skips before it bubbled under the water. He retreated a few steps back, rolling up his sleeves and scanning the shore for another suitable rock. Your eyes drifted after the boy like they were attached by a lure. Everything he did felt necessary and gentle.

“What if I can’t get it to skip even once?” You complained.

The next attempt didn’t fare any better, and served to prove your point. That’s when Joshua decided to hand you his next rock.

“I can show you again,” he offered.

You broke into laughter, “I’m standing exactly like you stood!”

“No, I’ll guide you, is what I mean.”

At first, you were still a little hazy on what he intended to do, but then you immediately understood the very second Joshua moved behind you, and every single nerve in your body had positively lit up like the flashing lights on a pinball machine. For some embarrassing reason, you couldn’t calm down no matter how slowly you breathed, and this visible shudder wracked down your spine as Joshua pressed himself against you and slid his fingers to your wrist. His touch was like silk. His voice beside your ear was warm and delicate and you were burning ash. You didn’t process a word he’d softly spoken. You breathed in mint and aftershave.

In fact, when he helped to guide the angle of your wrist and the stone made one very prominent hop across the river, you hardly noticed.

Because then Joshua had squeezed your waist with both his hands, giving you an excited, innocent shake. For you, your world nearly went black. It was merely a teaspoon of what it could be like to have a relationship with him, and it was intoxicating you dauntingly fast.

“—told you it wasn’t that hard!”

He was away from your backside, already picking some more stones into his palm when you caught the end of his exclamation.

“W-Well, you helped…”

Dammit—you sounded so stupidly breathless—

“Just do as I showed you, n’ you’ll be stress free in no time.”

But little did he know, you’d already forgotten all about that wild rant in the car. Now, your mind couldn’t conjure up any sort of thought other than what it would be like to know Joshua the way Elsie did—to whisper in his ear and kiss the edges of his kitten mouth and nuzzle your head into his shoulder while you listened to his music. To constantly breathe in his scent and feel his hands anywhere you desired. He mumbled something else to you, though you didn’t quite catch it.

You were floating far too high.

Rather than home, Joshua drove you back to his house. He’d told you his parents were going to be out late for a business dinner and you already knew Jennie was staying the night at Marina’s—not that one single part of you cared. Spending time with him was better than heating up some artificial, frozen dinner in the microwave while you waited in tears for your mom to return from her placement in the city.

Joshua toasted a sandwich for you, and you observed him with adoring eyes as he busied himself about the kitchen, washing and slicing the ingredients. He set the plate down in front of you, then filled up a glass with some juice.

“No cream soda today,” he frowned, reading the large bottle of juice, “Ocean Spray’s the special…. uh, Very Berry or something like that, with no artificial flavours or colours.”

“You’re such a restauranteur,” you laughed, forcibly stopping your feet from swinging under the island like a giddy child waiting for their ice cream sundae. He excited you in ways that should be magic.

He flipped the dish towel over his shoulder and winked.

“I want all these compliments going into my tip, ma’am.”

Joshua settled with leftovers from the fridge. Neither of you really spoke while eating, but there was no pressure in the air that suggested you might need to—it was cool and quiet. The boy flicked through a few texts on his phone meanwhile you slumped back into the chair with a satisfied puff, one hand rubbing along your shoulder blade.

“Are you also a massage therapist by any chance?” You whined. “I have a knot like, right around here, and I can’t get it at all.”

He slurped some noodles into his mouth that had been hanging from his chopsticks, and swallowed with a peculiar smirk.

“Pushing your luck just a bit, aren’t you?”

You felt an invisible jab against your stomach.

“I am?”

But the boy just huffed, shaking his head.

And you that’s when you realized the jab against your stomach had actually been fear. Joshua had a girlfriend. Joshua was in a happy relationship, and just because he’d kindly comforted you didn’t mean it was deemed suitable to edge the situation beyond that. In that moment, you’d shrunk in shame. It had just been so… reassuring, and validating, to pretend this boy could be more than just the brother of your best friend who only looked out for you because it felt like an obligation.

You were about to apologize when Joshua beat you to speaking.

“D’you wanna go my room?” He asked.

Hardly able to breathe, you uttered out a very quiet okay.

Joshua didn’t close his door all the way, instead leaving it about a quarter open. You took a seat at his desk chair, hands folded in your lap.

His room hadn’t changed much over the years—the walls were still the same dark grey, there were more medals hanging above his bedframe and he’d taped up a few new posters, but he’d kept the lava lamp and his acrylic cube of the solar system. Teeth rubbed over your bottom lip as you watched Joshua pick his acoustic guitar off its stand in the corner. He returned to his bed, propping one leg on the edge.

“This is my favourite one to play,” Joshua said, plucking a few strings, the sound which resulted softly tuned and as pleasant as birdsong, “the wood’s Nordic cherry. It’s such a deep and rich colour, don’t y’think? I had the lacquer redone a few days ago.”

“It’s really pretty,” you agreed, keeping your feet on the floor.

He was tying together a song, swaying his body back and forth to match the gentle nature of each chord. There had been a number of school assemblies where they asked Joshua to play the guitar, mostly to accompany the choir or the band. You always thought he was the best part, even if you had to watch him from between heads and shoulders.

You were lucky enough to sit at the front one time. He’d frequently whisper to the percussion player whenever the principal was speaking (usually Hansol, who was either awkwardly holding his symbols or maracas or whatever instrument the conductor trusted him with), leaning over his guitar with his earbuds dangling out from under his collar. It had intrigued you to know what they were saying. And then there was the way he’d chuckle quietly to himself afterward, licking his lips and proceeding to put on a bored face as his eyes swept into the crowd. You assumed he must have been looking for Elsie.

“What d’you think of the melody?” Joshua asked.

Clearing your throat, you stated simply, “calm.”

“Right? I thought it would be nice to play something like this.”

You didn’t say anything more, but glanced down into your lap with a smile that was imploring to burst at the seams. It brought you to wonder why Joshua did the things he did for you—give you rides home when it would’ve been easier to breeze right by, submit his favourite drink again and again because there was something about the way you glowed when you had a cream soda in your hand. Lend you nothing but normalcy at times where you or your body felt nothing but normal, listening to all your quarrels about the confusion of growing up, feeding you dinner and reminding you of all the ways there was still tenderness and compassion waiting to smooth the soul of its roughness.

Tapping your ankles together, you mumbled his name.

Joshua lifted his hand from the guitar.

“I can’t hear you if you’re gonna whisper,” he said before slapping the spot beside him, “come here, right next to me. It’s fine.”

And so you rose up cautiously from the chair and took your place on his bed, sitting atop your hands to stop their apparent fidgeting. He strummed his guitar once, almost like a prelude to your demure smile.

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

Joshua looked at you, raising his brow.

You shifted again, sucking in a breath, “like, for tolerating me today, even when I was being kind of an asshole. I guess I just needed someone to talk to but I didn’t know who. It’s just—I feel like I can talk to you, I guess. Even though I probably overshared and said a lot of things I shouldn’t’ve said, especially about myself…” you chewed into your cheek, angling an embarrassed glance toward the floor, “so, I’m sorry about that, but I’m glad you listened to me anyways. Really, thank you.”

He watched you for a moment with his delicate eyes, until he decided to remove the guitar from his lap, leaning it against the bed. His thigh pressed slightly into yours and you tried not to squeak.

“You can come to me, y’know?” he said softly, folding his arms low across his chest, “you’re not some stranger. And I’m also not a judgemental jerk, so if you have to be a bit dramatic, I don’t care.”

A small huff of laughter left your chest, and you nodded to show how much you appreciated the sentiment, because words just wouldn’t perform the right justice. Closing your knees together, your brow stiffened, and you thought it was a good time to ask the question.

“D’you think that I… that I’m different? From when you first remember me? Or that I’ve changed a lot?”

“Of course you have,” Joshua answered so obviously that you cocked your head back and nearly bulged your eyes out at him, “when I first met you, you wouldn’t even look at me, or speak, really.”

“Can you blame me for that?”

“No,” Joshua chuckled, “I know you were shy. Most of Jennie’s friends were like that. But if you’re worried on whether or not you’re seeming fake, or coming across as an asshole for thinking Jennie switched up on you—whatever it is that you’re wondering—it’s okay. It’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’ll probably meet different people and someone will say you changed, too. It’s not a bad thing. In fact, just about everyone’s thinking the same things.”

You swallowed, heavy and bitter.

“What if—what if Jennie like, forgets about me?”

Joshua shrugged, “I can tell you confidently that won’t happen. She’s stubborn. Just give her time. She probably feels pressure to make it seem like she’s maturing by doing what feels grown to her. I promise she won’t forget about you,” he smiled, “you’re not someone people forget.”

And your whole body seized up with laughter.

“Please forget that I threw my bra out your car window.”

He grinned at you, splaying his arms behind him and nudging his knee against yours. A surge of heat throbbed throughout your face.

“I said I don’t judge. We can always go back and get it.”

“Nope, no way,” you sighed, “I’ll stick to my middle-aged woman undergarments. But it is an unfortunate fifty bucks down the drain.”

“Seems like you’ve got it all figured out,” Joshua said.

“Oh, and—is there a chance you cannot mention any of this to Jennie? Like, even the fact I was here? Is that okay?”

The boy nodded his agreement, “yeah, ‘course.”

It’s not that you wanted to start keeping secrets. But today had been important, and special, and sometimes it felt necessary to keep such moments between you and whoever else was concerned. A day geared to end horribly had turned into a memory so perfect you wanted to encase it in amber, take it into your dreams even, and preserve it until the end of infinity. Maybe you meant more to Joshua than you initially thought.

You stood at your locker, wriggling in the textbook that you’d nearly forgotten in the geology classroom. The lunch bell was going to ring any moment now, though your teacher had wrapped up the lesson early and dismissed everyone with very little homework (which you were most likely going to procrastinate because the newest drama you’d picked up definitely wasn’t going to watch itself). Just as you were about to close the door, you noticed Jennie walking down the hall, thumbs tapping a flurry on her phone while she chewed something that was undeniably a stick of Double Bubble. You panicked, and nearly sank into the locker.

But she strutted right past you, not even glancing up once or forcing a greeting under her breath, and you truthfully couldn’t decipher if she hadn’t noticed you or was clinging to her phone as a scapegoat.

Not that you wanted it to be either of those things—your relationship was already wearing thinner by the day, and you always wondered which interaction between you two might end up as the last.

Jennie stopped at her locker down the hall, seemingly typing out a few more texts before she finally tore her gaze from her phone and nudged the door wide open with her foot (she always forgot her combinations), beginning to rifle around inside. And for a moment, you weighed the options of approaching her. She looked especially gorgeous today, with her long midnight hair in loose curls, almost falling to the belt that wrapped around her white-buckle skirt—you were still adjusting to her in such attire. For the five years you’d known her, she was always wearing knee-length shorts and Joshua’s plethora of old soccer jerseys.

It felt unnecessary, practically performing deep breathing exercises at your locker just to ruminate a conversation with the girl who was supposedly your best friend. You decided to give it a shot.

No harm, no foul, right?

“Hey Jennie,” you said, clutching your hands awkwardly.

She tossed an orange folder to the top shelf of her locker, her eyes remaining forward as she replied, “I don’t know where Joshua is.”

Visibly, your entire body stuttered, like a printer trying to force out its last bits of ink. Without hardly any breath, you stood there stiffly.

“I’m not, uh, I wasn’t looking for him,” it came out sounding like a question, “I thought I’d ask you about our geology homework.”

“Oh. What about it?”

She’d pulled out a small tube of lip gloss, quickly running the applicator across her mouth before stuffing it back into her bag. You struggled to comprise a response, watching the girl readjust her hair in the magnetized mirror, hardly paying you a lick of attention. It felt like a slap in the face. You couldn’t help touching your own burnt cheek.

“Well, I—”

The lunch bell rang, and almost instantly, the halls gushed with students, the static of everyone talking at once remarkably loud. Before you could inch out another word, Jennie had slammed her locker door shut, swinging a black lunchbox over her shoulder.

“Text me about it,” Jennie said, already beginning to walk away and disappear into the crowd, “I’m going to see Marina right now.”

No—it wasn’t just a slap, it was a brutal, fist-flat punch.

You didn’t really know what to do, frozen in place until the tenth grader with the locker right beside Jennie’s came trudging up and barely muttered an ‘excuse me’ before grabbing at their lock.

During lunch, it was usually less hectic on the second floor, so you grabbed your plastic-wrapped sandwich and headed upstairs, trying inconceivably hard to ignore the trademark couple who were too busy devouring each other’s tongues and groping. You went back to the geology classroom. Thankfully, it was empty, and so you took a seat at first counter on the left while bracing through the overbearing amount of mayonnaise your mother had slathered across the bread.

When the door creaked, there was an electric burst in your chest, thinking it could be Jennie who’d finally come to decide that hanging out with the purple-haired, face-studded Marina wasn’t as interesting as you (even though you assumed it was probably better—she had a pet tarantula for god’s sake, and her own car). But you definitely weren’t disappointed to realize Joshua had entered the geology room instead, shouting a goodbye to Hansol before the door heaved shut.

You didn’t want to smile so eagerly, fearing that it might weird him out, though you were helpless to stop the automatic stretch which always appeared at the sight of him.

Turning around on the stool, your eyes fluttered.

“What’re you doing in here?”

He paused, scanning the classroom almost frantically.

“I forgot my pencil,” Joshua answered, approaching a desk and picking one up that clearly wasn’t his, about as short as his pinky.

“Yeah, right.”

“I have my physics in here, first period.”

You folded your legs and smirked, “but you don’t even sit there.”

“How would you know that?”

Tilting your shoulder to the right, you directed Joshua to the black surface of the workbench, where his name was poorly etched.

“Okay—I didn’t do that,” he laughed, “it was Hansol, with a pair of scissors, and I literally begged him not too. He didn’t care, obviously.”

You squirmed back around on the stool.

“Right, and that’s not a random pencil someone just forgot?”

“No, not at all… that, and I might’ve seen you slip in here before I walked Elsie to her Envirothon meeting. But make no mistake. I didn’t come back here for you.” He was acting fidgety as he said it, and though the room was dark, you wanted to believe he’d blushed.

Nonetheless, Joshua slid onto the stool beside you, his fingers attempting to untangle the wire earbuds he’d just pulled from under his collar. You watched dotingly while he struggled, only to surprise the boy as you pulled your seat closer and batted his hands away.

“Let me, since you’re lacking the dexterity for this.”

He huffed, leaning his head to the side, his fawn eyes bouncing to every corner of the room as though looking directly at you was a sin. But once you’d loosened all the knots, Joshua seemed to relax.

“So,” you edged back on the stool, “are you excited?”

Joshua scratched his ear. “Excited for what?”

“You graduate this year, dummy. Are you not excited?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I am. I made some applications a few weeks ago, and I already heard back from one. It’s not my ideal choice, though.”

Leaning your elbows onto the table and squishing your cheeks between each palm, you exhaled a big breath.

“You’ve got good grades and all that. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Mm.”

“What about Elsie? Didn’t she want to go far away?”

Joshua’s adam’s apple pointed sharp against his throat.

“Um, she’s not sure yet. We haven’t discussed it much. She said, like, if I moved really far, she’d figure it out and come with me.”

Your eyes popped wide, and you tried to dim your surprise.

“Oh, wow. She must really like you—I mean, that’s obvious. You guys are dating after all. For a while now, I guess. Over a year.”

“Yeah.”

As Joshua thrummed his knuckles a few times on the table, you sensed he wasn’t exactly keening to examine the subject, not to mention the way his voice had thickened and the rustling of his knee was a bold spelling he was uncomfortable. It was nothing to take personal, yet that didn’t stop the little fissure which struck somewhere deep in your heart and made the air harder to breathe. Joshua had said you could come to him—you merely wanted him to know that he could trust you, too.

Sitting in closer against the table, you smiled at him.

“I may be a bit younger, but I can still give advice.”

Joshua furrowed his brow playfully.

“What d’you mean by that?”

It was surprisingly difficult to push the words past your teeth, almost like your body was issuing a mechanism to stop yourself from saying anything you might regret, anything that might scare him, or nudge him to develop the inkling you were beyond interested in him.

“I want you to trust me like I trust you.”

Each his pupils dilated further than they already had in the shadily lit room, and it was so apparent that you had to clench your fist, dig in your own nails until it stung to ensure you weren’t dreaming.

His answer was simple.

“Alright.”

You rubbed nervous, excited circles against the indents on your hand.

“There’s a prom party at the end of the month,” Joshua said, pulling out his phone as it vibrated, “You should come. I know Jennie’s going.”

“Uh, that sounds fun. I think.”

Slipping off his seat, Joshua grinned.

“Come find me if you decide to go—anyways, Hansol wants to get a burger and apparently I’m the only one he knows with a car. See ya.”

There were so many butterflies in your stomach, you tried not to cough one out as Joshua made his way toward the door—forgetting that stupid pencil of course. He liked writing all his notes and homework with pen, and you hated knowing such a specific, trivial fact.

“Yeah, talk to you later.”

It didn’t take much contemplation for you to agree to the prom party, even if you had yet to configure a ride or the location or how you’d get your hands on some alcohol (because you definitely weren’t going to enjoy one of those things sober), hence your decision to entreat Joshua for his phone number. 

It was only to ask about the details.

You learned the party was going to be hosted at Jeonghan’s house, probably the most popular senior in the entire school, and that there was a very strict designated driver policy. Well, at least you could scratch one bullet off your list, leaving just the ride and the alcohol. There was no way you were going to ask Joshua to be your escort—like he’d want to have his little sister’s friend stuffed in the backseat, it would be a total mood kill. 

Jennie was apparently going too. You’d try to avoid her if you could help it, even if it meant locking yourself in some washroom that reeked of liquor and smoke and impulsive decisions laced with vomit.

By the time the party rolled around, you were having a severe case of thought seconds, unable to sit still and constantly checking your phone and wondering how many times you could possibly change from the black skirt back into your shorts before you decided something. Chan, a boy from your English class, was kind enough to offer a ride—even some alcohol that his older brother had swiped for him. He texted that he’d be outside your house around nine o’clock, though it wasn’t until half an hour later that his car crunched into the driveway.

“Sorry,” he apologized the instant you opened the door, “I got busted—my mom found the beer in my backpack and got all mad. She thinks I’m still in my bedroom. I had to sneak out the window.”

Clicking on your seatbelt, you threw the boy a perplexed look.

“Uh, are you sure that was a good idea? I can probably just try to mooch off people. I don’t want you to get in serious trouble.”

Shrugging, Chan ignited the engine and set his navigation system to the party’s address, seeming disproportionately unconcerned.

“No, but I wasn’t going to bail. My brother said he’d take most of the heat, anyways. Oh—I really like your skirt by the way.”

“Thanks,” you replied, inching closer to the window.

Because you didn’t know him all that well, the car ride was a little awkward, your ankle twisting in these back and forth circles conveying just how nervous you were. Only the placid voice of the navigation system broke the silences, until Chan cleared his throat and lowered its volume.

“Did you hear the big drama that’s going around?”

Your ankle paused, and you looked across the glove box.

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, well I have the scoop. So, basically—wait, you know Elsie Bolger, right? The Envirothon girl? And Joshua Hong. I mean, I think everyone knows them ‘cause they get around and stuff. And you’re friends with Jennie so you probably know Joshua.”

“Yeah, I know both of them.”

Chan only kept one hand on the wheel, his other motioning around like he was giving some sort of speech, “okay, so they broke up, right? On Wednesday. Apparently, it was after school, and Elsie was like, sobbing, asking why and what went wrong, ‘cause it was him who broke the ice about it. I heard Joshua was saying that he saw her more like a friend, but Elsie kept adding pressure that there was another girl. Not that he was cheating or anything, but I don’t think he loved her, so I kinda agree with Elsie. There has to be someone else he likes—or, shit, maybe even loves. I think it’s that choir girl with the long arms. ”

He threw you a curious glance, as though he were anticipating your angle on the situation, though you couldn’t express much apart from an unhinged jaw and a stutter that fell to hot breath in your chest. When your tongue tapped the roof of your mouth, it was dry, and Chan must’ve thought you looked nauseous because he offered to roll a window down.

“I had no idea,” you admitted, smoothing your hand over a crinkle in your skirt, “I really hadn’t heard anything about it, so…”

“Really? That’s surprising. Who’s side, though?”

“What?”

Chan opened his window an extra inch and smiled.

“I mean like, who do you think was right? Joshua or Elsie?”

Honestly, at that moment, the idea of yanking the door open and bailing onto the dirt road seemed extremely tempting. How could he expect you to answer a question like that? When you were younger, you used to daydream about this: Joshua at long last detaching from his girlfriend, in which you could somehow swoop in to take her place and dust out his memories of her like you were cleaning a closet. But now that opportunity had actually presented itself. And you felt miserable.

Why would Joshua even decide that a party was what he needed right now? Why wasn’t he at home, heartbroken and grieving?

Chan snapped his fingers.

“Well, who’s side?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stuttered, “and I don’t want to choose.”

“Student cards, please.”

At the end of Jeonghan’s long driveway, a booth had been set up by the student council. You didn’t know the girl who’d asked you to present that pointless card you never thought would be useful, but once you flashed it to her, she grabbed your wrist and pressed a stamp to the back of your hand. It seemed that the night was really starting to take shape around ten o’clock—indecorous music echoed from the house and smoke was curling up into the blackness, courtesy of an impressive fire that crackled in the backyard. You weren’t sure what to do without Chan, who was already halfway along the driveway when you caught him.

“Please don’t wander off on me,” you sighed, taking a skittish look around the property filled with strangers, “I mean, I’m not gonna tether you to my side the whole time, but you are my ride.”

Chan pulled open the double doors to Jeonghan’s home, and a burst of heat welcomed you, steadily fanning your face. He obviously wanted to be inside, though you would have preferred to stay outdoors where it was cooler and a bit quieter and the likelihood of a guile senior cornering you against some table or couch was far lower.

The boy glanced around, stretching his neck to peer into the different rooms, “I won’t wander. I’m just looking for someone…” he mumbled, paying you next to no attention as he pardoned his way into the adjoining kitchen. Not wanting to be abandoned, you followed him.

“Oh—look, there’s Seungkwan!” Chan exclaimed, pointing his finger into the room past the kitchen.

Again, you hurried after him, squishing between two seniors who were nonetheless unenthusiastic at hearing your apology, and you were half-expecting to get a solo cup thrown at the back of your head. The friend Chan had met, Seungkwan, was gathered with a few others at this little counter in the living room, each whom you recognized from your grade. Seungkwan wasn’t one to drink, so when he asked if you wanted his cup of hard lemonade, you took it almost immediately and used it as an excuse to not fully join their conversation. Instead, you meandered more around the outside of their circle, surveilling the room and trying to catch any familiar face that presented itself. Well, not just any face.

You were specifically hoping to see Joshua.

Since Chan had told you about his breakup with Elsie, your whole demeanour shifted, and a fog had creeped its way into your brain. You couldn’t think about anything but him. Even standing next to the speaker responsible for blasting a salacious song about messy sex and drugs wasn’t doing much to distract you. Jeonghan’s house was considerably large, therefore Joshua could be anywhere. And you had yet to understand it. Was he intentionally glossing over his own misery by forcing himself to enjoy a party? Or was he happy to escape a relationship that he might’ve never truly wanted in the first place? That didn’t seem like him. He definitely loved Elsie. You needed him to be okay.

“Can you not just stand there? You’re blocking the way.”

You had no idea who they were, but this girl who was vastly taller than you appeared, holding onto the hand of a guy you assumed to be her boyfriend—either that or a quick, meaningless hook-up.

Without uttering a word, you stepped aside and let them pass.

And then you looked back at Chan, staying true to his vow and steering clear of drinking. Hovering beside him the entire night like a shy puppy wasn’t going to make you feel any better, nor would engaging in synthetic conversations with people you barely talked to at school, so you decided to break your own promise and wander. Your guesswork of the house led you out a random door, into the backyard where the bonfire was sparking and jouncing as students threw in more wood. Sipping at your hard lemonade, you examined everyone as best you could, though it was practically impossible to decipher all the blurry faces.

The very second you stepped off the deck onto the grass, someone’s arm was sliding around your shoulders, and as you were being tugged against this body you realized that Joshua had found you first.

“Aww, so glad y’could make it!” He slightly fumbled the pronunciation of his words, dragging them with a laziness that could only indicate he was inebriated, or teetering on the heated edge of it.

It took you a moment to regain your footing.

“Almost forgot y’were coming—” he paused to laugh, rubbing one hand beneath his nose, leaning on you heavily, “but I saw you n’ I remembered! M’so happy to see you, soso happy.” Joshua’s arm then tightened around your shoulders, like you were his support crutch.

“I’m, uh, happy to see you too,” you answered.

If it weren’t for the deep breaths you were subtly taking, you might as well have fainted. Joshua had never treated you like this in all your years of knowing him—even the moments when he’d come home late at night, tipsy and wobbly and Jennie would have to cover for him come morning. The fact was that there had always been an unspoken boundary between you, an invisible line, which now seemed completely erased as the boy pressed at your shoulder blades and urged you forward, something about meeting his friends, his face glowing with the surge of alcohol and his eyes completely clouded. This confused you further.

Because even though he was drunk, this was so unlike his character. You suspected that breaking up with Elsie must have shattered him. All his pieces hit the floor and he just left them there, broken.

“Are you doing alright? I, uh… I’m just wondering…”

Joshua stopped, unwinding his arm from your shoulder to fix his hat, combing back the thick hair underneath with his fingers.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Fan-fucking-tastic,” he replied, seeming unconscious of the words leaving his own mouth.

“Well, that’s… I mean, that’s good. I’m glad to hear that, really glad, because I just—I heard some stuff and—” you nervously wet your throat with another sip from the solo cup, feeling your body shake, “it’s not my business or anything! Like, not at all, and I don’t want it to sound like I’m prying, or that I don’t believe you, but I—”

“Jeonghan’s just over there,” Joshua interrupted after fixing his backwards cap on, “we have a couch outside. Come sit w’us.”

He slid an arm around you again, pulling you forward.

And you stepped alongside him, shrinking yourself as much as possible to avoid colliding with another intoxicated body, smelling the fresh charred wood and smoke that desiccated the night air. Your little heart was beating so fast that you had to talk with a second pulse.

“You do? T-That’s cool. But, like I was saying, I guess I just want you to know that I’m sorry about what happened with Elsie. And I really hope that you’re okay and everything. I’m here for you, so—”

It happened in the blink of an eye. One minute you were occupied with speaking, and the next, Joshua’s warm, soft lips had pushed to yours, effectively shriveling your next thought as he held your shoulder. The kiss was transient. Before it could even click, Joshua had already pulled away like it was nothing at all but a hair to the wind.

“I said I’m fine, ‘kay?” Joshua slurred, and you looked into his eyes with enough intensity to burn a hole, “I’m g’nna take you to the couch. We can sit down and stuff. Jeonghan’s there.”

“Okay.” You agreed quietly.

However, as you made your way to the couch propped close by the bonfire, desperately scanning the crowds and ensuring no one had seen that unpredictable moment, you caught glimpse of a face that was so familiar it made you weak. The hard lemonade nearly dropped from your hand and soiled in the grass. Because Jennie was practically glaring at you from the trees, her arms folded and her mouth uncordially slanted.

You didn’t know what to feel any more.

It was definitely an old couch, one that Jeonghan’s parents were probably on cusp of throwing out, especially with all its patches and prickly seats and burnt spots from cigarette butts. You were wedged against the arm while Joshua drank beside you, spreading out his legs and pretty much exiling you to as little space as possible—not that you really blamed him considering his lack of awareness right now. Jeonghan was decent, though you knew he would never even be talking to you if not for your connection with Joshua. So, the senior seemed to deal.

He chucked another log onto the fire, and a big swoop of sparks and ashes puffed upward like a volcanic breath. Once Jeonghan dusted off his hands, he sat himself down on an old table and cracked open another beer. Your lemonade was one sip away from being completely empty. It still felt a little strange to be drinking something that wasn’t cream soda.

“Pass me that,” Joshua asked, slumping forward and gesturing to the beer his friend had just drank from, “or pour some into my cup.”

Jeonghan chuckled, guiding him back by the shoulder.

“I think you’ve had enough, Shua,” he answered, “you had some fun. Now it’s time to mellow out a little. You’ll thank me when you aren’t stuck in the bathroom throwing up your guts an hour from now.”

“You suck so fucking much,” Joshua complained, crumpling up his solo cup and then proceeding to toss it over his shoulder.

“I suck, yeah, yeah,” Jeonghan clearly didn’t take the comment to heart, instead knocking his fist atop Joshua’s head, “I’m gonna take a lap around the house—” he suddenly pointed at you, “make sure he drinks a glass of water or something. Or at least keep an eye on him until Hansol comes back. And don’t let him mooch. You got all that?”

With a stiff, tiny smile, you nodded.

“Sorry to dump the man on you. I’ll be back soon.”

Even though you hadn’t been getting along spectacularly well with the senior, you still wished he could have stayed. You felt unprepared to console Joshua, and that it wasn’t exactly your place to start controlling his alcohol when he was evidently going through something. But, then again, your concern outweighed the uncertainty, and you found yourself grabbing the boy’s shoulder, gluing him back to the couch when a girl had shuffled by with a bottle wrapped in a brown bag. He threw his head back, sunk lower into the cushions with a groan.

“I’m sorry,” you squeaked, “I’m just doing what Jeonghan said.”

“What do y’have left n’here…” he asked vacantly, pulling at your arm and looking into the solo cup, “what is this? Can I have it?”

“There’s hardly any left. And—”

“Mm, you’re gonna say no, right?” He didn’t give you the chance to respond before he was already pushing his weighted body off the couch, stumbling slightly. “Get some myself then… w-whoa—”

“How about you just sit down? Please Joshua?”

You stood up too, planting your hand on his lower back to stabilize his toppling movement. It didn’t help that one of his friends walked by, her and Joshua exchanging a quick dap before she giggled something unintelligible. She let Joshua have a swig of her drink, and you almost fumed at her in a blind rage, because how could she not care enough about him to see that alcohol was far from what he needed? In less than a second, you’d ripped the drink away and thrust it back.

“Okay, relax,” the older girl tutted condescendingly, “this is a party, y’know? Why don’t you have a sip yourself and calm down?”

“I’m just—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving. Later, Josh.”

Like some sort of animal guarding its territory,  you watched her until she disappeared into the crowds, and it was only then that you exhaled long and slow, realizing Joshua had already collapsed back onto the couch. You sat down as well, though at the very edge.

“Where’s Hansol?” You asked.

Joshua folded an arm behind his head, “dunno.”

“Well, once he comes back, I’m going inside.”

The boy’s head fell in your direction, the fire flooding his eyes with sunset orange as he questioned, “why are you waiting for him?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Why?”

You shot him an anxious but stern look, “why d’you think?”

“I’m seriously fine.”

“Uh, you’re seriously not.”

Joshua laughed, a hiccup caught in his throat. His gaze traveled away from your face and back toward the fire, extremely dilated.

“It’s not even your business, so I don’t get it...”

“I know that—” for some reason, you felt yourself getting emotional, and your knees started tapping together as the nerves expanded, “but you saying that doesn’t make me not worried. I know if it were me, you’d be acting the same way. Wouldn’t you?”

Joshua was silent for a moment, but then he tensely swallowed and pushed his way back up the couch. He looked at you with the most clarity you had witnessed from those eyes all night, and suddenly, his hand had come to rest on your bare knee, squeezing it gently. He wanted to say something. It was loaded on his tongue like a bullet, but then—

“Uff—I’m back!” Hansol plopped down on the couch, sprawling out all his limbs and placing a water bottle behind Joshua’s head.

His hand was already off your knee.

And you were already making your way inside.

Honestly, you never envisioned yourself as the type to hide away in a washroom at a high school party, sat on the floor with your arms folded like some woeful delinquent who thought they were too unique for the world. Too unique? Not exactly. A woeful delinquent? Yeah, pretty much. You hadn’t bothered asking Chan to leave. The last you saw of the boy he was enjoying his time examining Jeonghan’s record wall.  

Almost three hours had passed. One in the morning was just around the corner, and somehow the party was still twirling with energy.

Just Dance, that was the song, the only Lady Gaga hit on the entire playlist that somehow made the walls shake whenever it played. The heat was thick enough for you to force open the bathroom window where breeze was faint, but you leaned into it regardless. Not many people were concentrated to this side of the house—mostly because there wasn’t anything out there aside from a generator and some trees. You would hear voices occasionally, though you could never deduce what they were saying. Jennie and Marina had walked underneath the window at one point. You had pulled back so quickly that your head spun.

This had all been a mistake. Almost as if the universe willed to prove your point, an obnoxious knocking berated the door, prompting you to uncomfortably swallow and call out a hoarse, “occupied!”

But the doorknob continued to jiggle, and then there was more pounding that jerked you hastily and fearfully to your feet.

“I said occupied!” You shouted, pacing a few steps forward and wondering what was the best possible item in this washroom to defend yourself—most likely the can of hairspray (you made a mental note).

After you still refused to unlock the door, the stranger left, and you assumed they were either left partially deaf due to the music or were off their rocker on whatever drugs and alcohol had managed to circle around the house. Brought back to sitting on the floor, you checked your phone again, groaning at the red sliver of battery you were prolonging.

Hungry, tired, sweaty, and slightly sick, you contemplated lying flat across the rug in an attempt to fall asleep. It wasn’t a good idea, but you didn’t care. The thought of closing your eyes was heavenly, and before you could pick a verdict they were already fluttering shut, the music beneath you sounding incredibly distant, turned to a soft echo that seemed like it was pushing through layers of concrete.  

Someone else came to the door.

When they knocked, you were convinced it was the stranger from earlier. Now, you were angry, angry enough to unveil whoever this person was (and pray the first thing they didn’t do was projectile vomit all their nights liquor onto your shirt). Yet, when you saw Joshua’s face through the mirage of dark, crimson colours mottling the corridor, you wished it could have been that stranger holding down their stomach. He looked a little more focused, though his hair was mussed up in spikes and his cheeks were visibly blotched pink in the mugginess. One of his hands braced against the doorframe. Joshua wasn’t sober, just steadier.

“Can I come in?” He asked, keeping his head angled to the floor, rubbing the tip of his nose with a knuckle.

“Were you looking for me?”

“Jeonghan said he last saw you going into the washroom.”

With a reluctant sigh, you grabbed Joshua’s arm and pulled him inside, kicking the door shut with your foot. Whoever was in charge of the music had opted to play the song even louder, and you heard the living room crowd belting along to every lyric, even from upstairs.

He sat on the edge of the bathtub. You joined him.

Joshua then leaned forward, elbows on his knees. For a moment, you questioned if it was right to ask him about the kiss—you were burning to know his intentions, drunk or not. The boy proceeded to grin.

“What?” You were intrigued—tempted to laugh, even.

“Nothing,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I just—I feel numb, or something. Like, I feel everything: how hot it is, sweat on the back of my neck, the chills in my fingers, but at the same time, I don’t really feel it.”

You sniffled, twisting your ankle in nervous circles. Joshua leaned back a little less, though he dragged a hand through the thick strands of his hair, and you now understood why it was so messy.

“Where’s your hat?”

“Lost it,” he smiled.

“We should switch places.”

“Why?”

“So you can be closer to the window. There’s a nice breeze.”

Once Joshua had slid over, you two sat in silence, listening to each rhythmic thump. He pulled one of his banged-up converse onto the edge of the tub, propping an arm across his knee while he stared into the moonlight. You wanted desperately to know each thought in his head.

Then, he was suddenly looking square into your eyes.

“Did I kiss you?”

With a careful nod, your fingers clenched.

“Fuck, that was just a stupid, stupid accident. I’m sorry. I thought I dreamt that for a second—I keep fucking up.”

An accident? A stupid, stupid accident?

No, that makes sense. Of course it’s an accident.

But it hurts. God, it really hurts.

He was drunk. That’s why. You already knew that!

Why is it so much harder to breathe?

Your eyes are stinging. Pull yourself together, holy shit.

He really doesn’t see you like that. It’s obvious, always has been.

Don’t you dare cry. Pull it together. Pull it together.

Pull it together!

“Hey,” Joshua tapped your arm, “I’m really sorry.”

“No, I—” you pushed off the edge of the tub, leaning against the clam-shaped sink instead, taking a second to blink and force back the wetness at your tear ducts, “it’s fine. I get it. I’ve just been sitting on the floor for like, the past three hours. I need to stand a bit. But— I’m just thinking, maybe you should go home. It’s been an intense week.”

The older boy agreed, nodding his head as a lopsided smile touched at those perfect lips. You nibbled your inner cheek.

“I don’t know why I came, I just—” Joshua threw his hands up defeatedly, “Elsie and I, we wanted different things. She was amazing, and I have only good things to say about her, but I…”

You weren’t sure if you could handle this. It didn’t help that your mind was still whirling from his earlier apology, thoughts and emotions spinning and spinning like a spool of slippery ribbon coming undone. But at the same time, you wanted to be there for Joshua. He must be unraveling about this heartbreak because he trusted you, though, as he stumbled and continued correcting himself and paused every minute or so to look deeply at the moonlight, you began believing that Joshua had forged his relationship with Elsie as some sort of distraction.

And this sparked a flicker in your dark eyes.

Was it easier to be with Elsie than it was to be with you?

But you didn’t say anything. Instead, you stood there silently, letting Joshua reminisce, gulp back his tears, pick up those shattered pieces he’d dropped that bitter Wednesday afternoon—as he should be doing, rather than stuffing his heart into an ice bucket and letting it numb. His smile reflected as less broken by the time he’d finished.

“Well, I sorta unloaded. I hope it wasn’t too much.”

“No, you needed to do that. I’m glad you did.”

Joshua finally stretched his leg off the edge of the tub, meanwhile he raked through his hair again, flopping it all over the place.

“I’m glad I did, too,” he admitted, steadying his gaze on you.

Your lower back pressed further against the sink.

“I mean, you’ve listened to me complain about pretty much everything under the sun. Even your sister. You’re just caching in.”

“Should I be caching in more often?”

“Wow—perfect Joshua Hong has more stuff to get off his chest?”

He huffed, “since when have I been perfect? Like, ever?”

Whoops, that had been a revealing slip of the tongue. You crinkled your nose and swung your smitten head toward the window.

“I didn’t say perfect.”

“But you did, though.”

“You’re hearing things.”

Joshua rolled his shoulders, capitulating to you easily.

“Whatever,” he said, finally rising from his seat with a smirk that felt familiar, “I’ll take the compliment, even if it supposedly didn’t exist.”

At that moment, you thought he was going to leave the washroom, and once again you would be left to sit on the floor until Chan overwhelmed your phone with texts, asking where you were. There was no way he could still be admiring the record wall. He’d probably moved onto something else obscure yet alluring. Jeonghan’s house was just as pretentious as the senior himself. But Joshua didn’t disappear.

He grabbed your shoulder, and you froze.

“Thank you, I should say before I forget.”

The mould around you crumbled away.

“Oh yeah, for sure, um—no big deal,” you mumbled awkwardly while pulling him into a hug, losing your words in a mere instant.

His arms curled around your waist, firm on each side, and there was a soft squeeze to your body that left you breathless. Your right hand landed at the back of his neck, fingers moving almost instinctually toward his black hair, feeling each lock slip through, a bit tangled and damp with sweat. Shit—your heart had never raced like this before. He could probably sense it against his own chest. Joshua had started pulling away, and so you replied with a slow, obviously unwanted retreat from his body. For some reason, Joshua left a hand on the hip of your skirt, which he seemed to be looking down at for a notable time.

You should kiss him.

Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him. Don’t let him go. Pull him against you. Lick into his mouth and move his hand back to your hip. Show him he doesn’t need to distract himself anymore because you’re right here.

Except—you did none of that.

Joshua said thank you once more. And he slipped back into the misted, red lights that glowed outside in the corridor.

You had never gotten into a fight before, though you’d been a witness to one or more at school. The first fight—which your principal incessantly referred to as an ‘altercation’—was three years ago on the green, when two senior footballers had gotten into a shoving match that resulted in the meeker having his cheek rubbed against the dirt for a solid five minutes. The second fight was a year later, between two girls who were opting to practically pull the other’s hair out in the locker room.

But you, yourself, had never gotten into an actual fight.

Maybe sixteen was the year you’d throw your first punch.

You just never anticipated that the girl on the potentially-receiving end would be Jennie Hong, a former best friend since the age of twelve, now converted to a thorny stranger who’d gotten the tiniest sip of popularity and clung to it with stunning avarice. Ever since your falling-out, you always assumed this day would pull itself out from the leaves—essentially a disinterring of what had killed the friendship—though you hadn’t expected it here or now. It had only been a weekend since the party. Jennie couldn’t even keep her burning remarks until two-thirty.

Instead it was lunch, at the base of the staircase outside the library, just without its centrepiece couple to clog the path. Nobody was really filtering through at that moment, but you could already imagine how the tight space would bubble with a crowd once someone caught wind of the shouting. How the hell do you throw a punch, anyways?

“You know what—I don’t have to answer to you. It’s not like you’re my boss or anything.” Right, and when was the last time Jennie actually responded to a text message? She let the friendship fizzle.

“No, I’m not letting this slide, because what you did was one of the shallowest things I’ve seen—like, ever.”

“Ever?” You gawked, feeling an instant sharpness in your gut.

Jennie exaggeratedly rolled her doll eyes, and for some reason, you contemplated how it might feel to grab a stinging handful of her stupid, silky, coconut-smelling hair and rip it flat out.

“Yeah, ever! My brother just went through a huge break-up with the love of his life! And, you see this little window, so you come in and take it. I legit saw you kiss him. It made me think how selfish you are.”

“What is wrong with you, Jennie? That’s not how—”

“That’s basically what our friendship turned into. You’re fucking obsessed with my brother. You were supposed to be my one friend that wasn’t, but guess I was wrong. Joshua doesn’t want you, at all.”

For a quiet, hollow moment, you were speechless, meanwhile Jennie had this tart yet overtly prideful countenance, like she had so tactfully shone a beam on how horrible you were—an announcement to let the entire world know her ex best friend was the textbook definition of fake. You had noticed a few faces peeking through the doorway up the stairs, and this heat began stifling over you like smoke from a fire. She wasn’t going to listen or even reason with anything you could say.

“I-I don’t care what you think you saw. I’m not shallow, or selfish, and the fact that you have to like—even convince yourself I did something wrong is showing that you—you’re—you’re basically—”

“You can’t even say it!” Jennie threw a ridiculing finger out at you and cackled. “I’m right. I’m so fucking right about you.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Kitty got claws?”

“Shut up, Jennie!”

“No, I won’t. I have every right to feel hurt ‘cause of you! The truth is, you just like Josh ‘cause he’s the only boy that’s ever paid you any attention, so you obsess over him, thinking he’s gonna what? You’ll finally lose your v-card or something? I never wanted to think y’were just using me to know him, but that’s exactly what happened!”

You couldn’t stand listening to her, and tried to drown out the cacophony of her voice instead, rubbing harshly at your ears while you blurted, “just shut up! Shut up, shut up!” like it would make her vanish.

“Then do something to make me stop!”

And that’s when you felt the crackle skip down your wrist and bumble at the tips of your fingers. Could you really punch Jennie? The girl whom you’d once laughed with and cried with and spent a memorable chunk of your earlier adolescence figuring out the world with? God, you had never hit anything in your life, unless you counted the time you accidentally struck your mother in the jaw when she’d been trying to blow raspberries on your tummy. But that wasn’t intentional. And Jennie used to be a real outdoorsy kid, digging up snails and shaking beetles off bark. She wasn’t afraid to get her nails dirty.

You took a few steps toward her, and Jennie’s eyes widened. The slight lagging of her expression indicated that she genuinely hadn’t expected the slightest action from you, though, you’d lost the urge to strike her as quickly as it festered up. Besides, someone must have relayed the argument to the staff, because you heard the blips from the on-duty teacher’s walkie-talkie at the top of the stairway. An entire crowd of students had bunched behind them, watching a little too excitedly.

“There a problem here, girls?”

Surprisingly, Jennie was the first to cough.

“No.”

The teacher then glanced at you, folding his stout arms across his chest and pushing up the glasses on his red nose.

“No…” you repeated dully, your eyes trailing off to the side.

You took back everything you said about bad days.

This was officially the worst.

Monday.

[ don’t answer | 3:28 pm ]: hey.

[ don’t answer | 3:28 pm ]: something happen at school today?

[ don’t answer | 3:28 pm ]: jennie wouldn’t talk to me in the car.

[ don’t answer | 3:28 pm ]: thought you might know what happened.

...

[ don’t answer | 4:30 pm ]: are you taking a nap?

[ don’t answer | 4:30 pm ]: or is it physics? i can help.

Tuesday.

[ don’t answer | 3:20 pm ]: am i an idiot or were you avoiding me?

[ don’t answer | 3:25 pm ]: did i do something?

Thursday.

[ don’t answer | 5:50 pm ]: i’m trying to give you space rn.

[ don’t answer | 5:50 pm ]: just thinking about you.

[ don’t answer | 5:50 pm ]: hope everything’s okay.

Sunday

[ ______ | 2:30 am ]: im sorry. messages were being weird.

[ ______ | 2:30 am ]: i don’t think we should talk any more.

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: why?

[ ______ | 2:34 am ]: it looks weird.

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: i’m not sure what happened bu

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: *but if i did something please tell me.

[ ______ | 2:34 am ]: it has nothing to do with you.

[ ______ | 2:34 am ]: im just trying to respect jennie.

[ don’t answer | 2:34 am ]: are you talking about that fight? call me

don’t answer is calling…

call declined at 2:34 am.

[ don’t answer | 2:35 am ]: why not? idc what jennie thinks.

[ ______ | 2:35 am ]: well i do.

don’t answer is calling…

call declined at 2:35 am.

[ ______ | 2:35 am ]: joshua don’t i won’t pick up.

[ don’t answer | 2:35 am ]: this is easier if we talk.

[ ______ | 2:35 am ]: i don’t want to do that right now.

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: find me tomorrow at school, ok?

[ ______ | 2:36 am ]: where?

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: physics, at lunch.

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: my grad partys coming up soon.

[ ______ | 2:36 am ]: excited?

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: yeah.

[ don’t answer | 2:36 am ]: one sec. sending a picture.

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: IMG.124_313

[ ______ | 2:37 am ]: new amp?????

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: early gift from vernons mom lol.

[ ______ | 2:37 am ]: no way she fucking bought u that!!

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: she loves me more than him.

[ ______ | 2:37 am ]: im not getting you anything like that, sorry 

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: nah nah your presence is enough.

[ ______ | 2:37 am ]: u want me there??

[ don’t answer | 2:37 am ]: obviously wtf.

[ don’t answer | 2:38 am ]: are you gonna skip bc of my sister?

[ don’t answer | 2:43 am ]: did you fall asleep? or are you avoiding the q?

[ ______ | 2:43 am ]: sorry, phone died.

[ ______ | 2:43 am ]: i don’t want stuff w jennie to ruin your day.

[ don’t answer | 2:43 am ]: you’re not gonna ruin anything.

[ don’t answer | 2:43 am ]: what if i told you

[ ______ | 2:44 am ]: told me what?

[ don’t answer | 2:44 am ]: that i want you there more than anyone else.

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: why do you keep disappearing?

[ ______ | 2:46 am ]: you’re such a liar lol.

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: you’re coming, ok?

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: i’ll make you promise me tomorrow.

[ ______ | 2:46 am ]: you can’t make me do that.

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: we’ll see.

[ ______ | 2:46 am ]: yeah we will.

[ don’t answer | 2:46 am ]: ngl i’m tired. but find me on monday.

[ ______ | 2:46 am ]: i know. goodnight.

[ don’t answer | 2:47 am ]: goodnight.

1 month later.

[ ______ | 6:50 pm ]: hey, answer me asap.

[ ______ | 6:50 pm ]: need extra thoughts on what i should wear.

[ joshua h. | 6:53 pm ]: wear whatever you want.

[ ______ | 6:53 pm ]: but how formal is it?

[ ______ | 6:53 pm ]: could i get away with like……

[ ______ | 6:53 pm ]: a really nice camisole and jeans??

[ joshua h. | 6:53 pm ]: yeah.

[ ______ | 6:53 pm ]: what are u wearing?

[ joshua h. | 6:54 pm ]: dress shirt and slacks.

[ ______ | 6:54 pm ]: that’s at least noticeably formal!!

[ ______ | 6:54 pm ]: i’m going to wear my skirt.

[ joshua h. | 6:54 pm ]: okay lol. see u there.

[ ______ | 6:54 pm ]: this frjdsy, right?

[ ______ | 6:54 pm ]: whoops **friday

[ joshua h. | 6:55 pm ]: yeah. come at like 8-ish.

[ ______ | 6:55 pm ]: will do.

How were you supposed to feel about Joshua leaving? Honestly, you tried not to ruminate on it. Your relationship had definitely evolved more than it ever had these past few months, and now that you were finally shaking off the thick chrysalis of being his “little sister’s best friend”, Joshua would be coasting away to university. New people, new experiences, new environment—how were you going to ensure you were the thing that stuck? That, when he was in the midst of some homecoming party with a girl sliding her fingers down his arm, in the back of his mind he was thinking of you to an annoying degree.

You didn’t know how to do that.

It felt awkward to even muse about such a thing as you stood in the Hong family living room, occasionally scraping a few pieces of crackers and cheese off the platters organized on the island while everyone buzzed and mingled around you. Jennie was somewhere. You didn’t know where, but at that point you didn’t care any longer. The fight had wedged you two apart for good. Thankfully its details hadn’t circulated much, and if Joshua had any indication the precise details of the fight, he was very polished at hiding it. His mother had swung by a few times to talk with you, and you always saw Joshua’s seraphic eyes in hers.

“Every time I walk past, you’re glued to this spot,” she smiled genuinely and gesticulated with a wave of her wine glass.

“Oh, just enjoying the crackers,” you replied, “and, um, the cheese. But it’s okay. I don’t mind people-watching.”

“Need anything to drink?”

“I’m good. Thanks, though.”

She squinched her face for a moment, “I might offer the wine, but you are by far underage. Of course, I’m saying this like you haven’t already drank before. Most teenagers find a way. Jennie uses Joshua who uses his older friend, Seungcheol. I’m not condoning it, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you grinned, flitting a wink at her.

“Oh, I miss you,” she half-exhaled, half-laughed, grabbing onto your shoulder with a touch of comfort you’d almost forgotten. “I’m still trying to figure out how to handle Jennie’s new friends.”

With a distant hum, you agreed, “that makes two of us.”

Someone suddenly called her over from the next room, and she politely dismissed herself, fitting in a graceful comment about your outfit before she strode away. And that was when you started feeling… disheartened, a bit empty, dreary about the future and how you were supposed to wake up relatively excited for school knowing that Joshua’s kind, sweet, stupidly pretty face wasn’t going to be there. It felt like a kick in the teeth, and it hadn’t even happened yet. Did he care that he was going to be leaving you here to sink further into your loneliness?

As you picked at another cracker, Hansol came up from the basement with Jennie following suit. They were holding extra paper plates and cups, and you watched from your peripheral as Hansol kept the door open for her with his foot. He was graduating too, though his family hadn’t glamorized it as much as Joshua’s, to which you figured the boy was dually enjoying the praises he got in the mix. Jennie and Hansol walked off together into another room, talking animatedly and constantly brushing shoulders and smiling a little too gleefully for two people who just got sent to the basement for some cardboard and plastic.

Where the hell is Joshua?

You got here at eight, and hadn’t seen him once.

Well, if he didn’t want to be found, then you’d just follow the very obvious trail that lead to his bedroom, the door cracked open and the aging, peeling poster of that lady with the star-shaped sunglasses still staring at you just as placidly as always. When you thought about it, she was the only one to ever see you stop and stare at his door over the many years, watching your wonder of him turn into a crush, and then whatever you called it nowadays. Using your foot, you tapped the door open slightly, exchanging a nervous glance with the star-shaped glasses lady.

Joshua hadn’t even noticed that you’d entered. He was squatted in the corner, wires snaking around his feet, some plugged into a few outlets on his amp. Of course, this is what concerned him right now.  

“So, you’ve been up here, playing around with a bunch of wires, instead of like, enjoying the graduation party you forced me to come to.”

He flinched, at first jarred by your presence, but you noted Joshua’s relaxed smile as he rose up while sweeping some dust off his hands. You stood in one place, like roots were sprouting from your socked feet into the floor, hands fiddling behind your back.

Standing near his desk, Joshua gestured to the lava lamp.

“Do you want that?” He asked as a bright, yellowish gob of liquid floated gradually upward, merging into the purple.

“Why would I want it?”

“You said something to me once about always wanting a lava lamp. I don’t really need it anymore.”

Rolling back your shoulders, you chuckled. “I said that like, two years ago. And I think it’s a staple of your room. You should keep it here.”

“Good point,” he answered, reaching for a soda can on his desk.

Cream soda, obviously. Some things never change.

You sighed, though it ended up whisking out your mouth in a much sadder tone than you intended, and for a second your heart skipped a beat because you didn’t want Joshua thinking his graduation party was insipid or boring. If anything, you were reminiscing, and it just wasn’t in your nature right now to be especially pert when you knew he was leaving. Not to mention, you hated him in a crisp white dress shirt that he’d clearly been fiddling with because the sleeves were too long and the fabric was too stuffy. He’d cuffed the material up to his elbows and undid a few buttons that unveiled a deep amount of his skin.

Were collarbones intended to be that attractive?

“Everything okay?” Joshua questioned, tilting his head.

You leaned against the desk with him, the room hardly aglow in the dull heat from his lava lamp. Honestly, you did kind of want it.

“Well, you’re going off to university…”

“I am.”

“So, you won’t be here. Like, at all.”

“Are you forgetting the entire summer before I leave? And reading week? And Christmas? And whatever else? I’m not ‘gone’,” he quoted with his fingers, “you have my number, anyways.”

You scoffed, smiling at him to lighten the tension. “Pfft, yeah, like you’re even going to be hitting me back. You know you won’t, right?”

Joshua merely shook his head in disagreement, folding his arms.

“Never mind any of that stuff. I don’t mean to make it about myself—” Jennie’s face scorched across the canvas of your mind like a lightning strike, that comment about you being selfish, “how are you feeling? I mean, shit has been… a little different for you this year.”

The boy bit his lip softly as he agreed, and his eyes almost glazed over for a particular second, as though he were flicking through heavy pages of old memories. Was he thinking about Elsie? You really hadn’t spoken to her since their breakup, apart from an excruciatingly awkward encounter in the girl’s washroom where you basically expressed your empathies to a brick wall. She had been scrubbing every cell of her hands with soap, smiling and nodding and probably wishing you’d just dissipate. Since then, you hadn’t seen the autumn haired girl much.

“Yeah,” Joshua hummed, tilting his head in your direction, “I guess it has been different. But… good different…” his eyes stilled on you like they were focusing a picture, and you swore his gaze drifted up from your legs, your hips, ever so briefly along your chest and to the sort of frozen expression painted stiffly and crookedly to your face.

What the fuck does that mean?

“So… you’re ready to leave?” Experimentally, you adjusted your hand on the desk, having your fingers slightly overlap with his.

“Pretty much.”

He stared at you again, and this sitting, small frog in your chest charged into a hop as  Joshua’s ring finger slid overtop your pinky, hooking the two digits together. Nervous was an understatement—you felt downright nauseous, the dry-mouthed, heart-hammering, sweat-slicked kind where fainting seemed like a possibility if you didn’t go into cardiac arrest first. Despite the guileless brushing of your fingers, Joshua’s face hadn’t budged that much. He was about as easy to read as a stone tablet, only if someone used scissors instead of a chisel.

But was it right to doubt yourself? This could be the perfect moment served on a silver platter. Maybe you didn’t know what you were doing, or how to kiss someone, or how to look at this boy’s sweetly plump lips without feeling tingly and dehydrated, but if you didn’t just make that fucking move you’ve been waiting on like a birthday wish then—

“Oh, yeah! Totally forgot to mention this but—”

“Wait, Joshua—”

He had taken a step away from the desk, and without thought, you latched onto his shoulder in an attempt to reel him back.

The boy turned around almost automatically, unable to purse another word past his lips as he realized the seriousness that had desaturated your aura, feeling the shaky hands that pulled down the smooth front of his dress shirt, arms now curling their way around his neck. You had pressed him in close against you, not a flicker of space between, and Joshua still hadn’t said a word as you touched your lips to his in a light contact. Unsure if you should continue, you almost stepped away, surprised to consequently feel two firm hands on your hips which guided you back in, his lips now eagerly pushing against yours.  

But it quickly dawned on Joshua that he needed to go slower for you, and there was an almost grateful, relieved breath into his mouth when he extended each kiss into a gradual pace. Working softly, letting you pause to take in as much air as you needed, occasionally smiling against your mouth whenever he added something like an experienced touch of the tongue that you clearly enjoyed and responded to. Almost blinded by the desire you felt, you were immediately desperate for more, having Joshua sit down in his desk chair while you climbed onto him.

“Wait—” he huffed between your kisses, accepting each one and nipping back too, almost like he couldn’t stop himself, “wait just a sec.”

His calloused hands landed on your bare thighs. You couldn’t help but twitch the instant it happened, losing another fleck of sanity, chills dancing up your spine when his fingers inched further to play with the short, black hem of your skirt. To your displeasure, Joshua suddenly abandoned that idea all together. Almost like he’d contacted something burning hot, the boy chose to grasp your waist instead.

“What?” You mumbled breathlessly against his neck, exploring the skin with licks and bites.

This was something you had never done before, something you didn’t even know you were capable of, but the desire was flowing out and you didn’t know how to stop it. His addicting scent fluttered around you, making it beyond difficult to concentrate. Joshua’s fingers then grazed your cheek, pulling your face back toward him where he slotted your mouths together once more, wanting to kiss you harder but knowing he needed to stop. You sensed it too—he was confused and apprehensive.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you leaned back on his lap and frowned. “Is there something wrong? You don’t want us to?”

Joshua reached for your face again, moving you back in.

“Listen,” he said, using that satin-dipped voice of his which could only indicate he was about to let you down gently, “it’s not that… I just—you’re beautiful, and thoughtful, and as much as I want to—” he sucked in a breath that seemed deeply regretful, moving his thumb across the crest of your cheek with such fragility as he admitted, “I can’t, and I feel like I shouldn’t. I’m so, so sorry. I really am.”

“So… what does that mean? You don’t like me?”

It was akin to pinpricking a balloon—just the slightest puncture had instantly deflated you, and there was a horrible, useless feeling that soaked into your bones as this boy caressed your face so tenderly.

“No, I like you. Fuck, of course I do,” Joshua whispered, sitting up further in the chair, black tresses slipping into his eyes, “but—”

“I’m just your little sister’s best friend, right?” Damn it, tears had glistened up as you said it. “Well, not even best friend. She fucking hates me, thinks I’m pathetic or whatever. And, is she even wrong? I mean, I’m literally sitting on her brother’s lap thinking he—you’d actually want me.”

“Slow down—” Joshua reached for your wrist as you squirmed off his lap, but you flinched away from it and wiped your cheeks instead.

“Please, you don’t have to leave. I mean, I’m not gonna hold you here, and— okay, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Fuck, I’m so sorry—“

He pushed out of the desk chair, reaching toward your face.

But you stepped back at the same time, maintaining the equidistance.

“What did you mean to do, then?!”

“I-I don’t know, honest. I really don’t know. Just—not this.”

Everything was fucking sweltering and stinging and you had never hated yourself more for thinking Joshua saw you as anything else but that dorky sidekick to his sister. And, you didn’t want to hear him elaborate or try to sugar coat his truth because that would only shove the knife further into your back. You wanted to leave, chiefly because you knew he wouldn’t follow, though nothing had ever hurt more in your life than when you slammed his door shut for the very last time. As you hurried down the stairs and anxiously buckled your shoes back on at their front door, Jennie had wandered into the corridor holding onto a plastic cup, at first extremely confused to the tears caked over your face.

“Um… should I get you a tiss—”

“Actually, you were right.”

Jennie perched an eyebrow, then scratched at the bracelets on her wrist. She was too stunned by the situation to bother responding.

“Your brother doesn’t want me, at all.”

And just like that, you were out of their house in an instant.

This could be a good thing, exactly what you needed, even.

Age thirteen was the first time you had seen Joshua, and for some unshakeable reason, your brain decided that he was the only boy worth fixating over—coursing enough serotonin and dopamine through your receptors like a drug that seemed harmless enough to keep injecting until one day, it just wasn’t. Joshua wasn’t even that great. What did he do anyways, apart from having eyes as captivating as the fine details of an oil painting, and a voice that sounded what a daydream felt like, and this seemingly genuine attentiveness to your life that made you forget the blizzard that often whipped around it?

Right, Joshua was not all that.

There must be other people out there who could elicit that rush, and maybe you would have met one or two of them if you hadn’t been so tethered to the older brother character who’d pinned you as this one-dynamical permanent friend. And that’s why you had come to the conviction that he needed to be cut from your existence, not just in physicality, but in thought. The second you got home from the party—letting your bicycle crash against the asphalt driveway because it was a fossil anyway—you took every single can that you had kept over the years, shovelling them into your knapsack while trying not to blubber.

Flinging the bag over your shoulder, you saddled onto the bike and pedalled off toward the quarry near the edge of the town. There was a huge, earthy hole dug into the middle, and most people had decided to start treating the pit as a trash site. It was nearly pitch black by time you arrived, so you had to balance a tactical flashlight on a rock, your enlarged shadow cast along the big, graffitied construction boxes sitting opposite to the hole. You grabbed a soda can out from your bag and twisted it into the dirt, pausing for no less than a second as his pretty face eclipsed your thoughts, perhaps one last opportunity to weigh the scale.

No—follow through, don’t be doubtful.

Crush the can. Crush the crush.

Using your heel, you stomped the soda can, hearing the metal contort and crack like you had squeezed out its breath. Then, with a gust of the leg, you sent the flattened semblance of a disk sailing through the air into the pit, which seemed as deep and infinitely dark as the sky. You did it again. And again. Crush and kick. Crush and kick. Until there was nothing left inside your bag, emptied down to its dust and crumbs.

It would have been an incredibly victorious, fulfilling moment.

If only you had not been crying so hard the entire time.

[ joshua h. | 11:45 pm ]: this is my fault, and i’m sorry.

[ joshua h. | 11:45 pm ]: i shouldn’t have kissed you back and messed with your expectations. but it’s not that i don’t like you or think about you.

[ joshua h. | 11:45 pm ]: bc i do. i just don’t know what’s right.

[ joshua h. | 11:46 pm ]: can we talk again? please.

[ joshua h. | 12:58 am ]: i’m sorry. i hurt you. i’m so fucking sorry.

[ joshua h. | 12:58 pm ]: i’m still gonna be here for you if you need me.

[ joshua h. | 12:59 am ]: goodnight.

Are you sure you want to block Joshua H? You will not receive any of this user’s messages.

…

Yes.

17.

Being seventeen was relatively new. Jennie Hong was no longer in your life. She was past a point of dislike and stuck on indifference. You heard from your mother that it was worse to be meaningless to someone than to be hated, and… you agreed. Chan, the boy responsible for driving you to Jeonghan’s party, was your boyfriend, and you two had started dating at the beginning of September. He had an oddly thrilling personality, a small group of friends, wasn’t too clingy or detached, and, well, he certainly tried at your relationship. Chan was the perfect amount of normal—balance, could be a better word, someone you looked at and sensed their life was exactly where they needed it to be.

Contrarily, your life had never felt like that, though that could have been due to Jos—him. Just, him, because you firmly decided that he was to remain a blank, faceless cut-out in the branching cloth of your memories. Right now you were with Chan, and he was lovely.

“What if—for the spaceship scene—you have her ride in on one of those harness thingies? And just get her to hold a cardboard painted  ship. We have the budget for a harness-pulley system, right? All it takes is some rope and muscle, really.”

“We’re not doing that, Chan. I appreciate that you want to lessen the burden of my stage coordinator B.S, but after the Peter Pan incident last year, harnesses were fucking stripped from any future production.”

“Oh! That’s right. Wasn’t that what’s-her-face’s fault?”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, “basically, yeah.”

Theatre wasn’t exactly your school’s forte. It was proven year after year, beginning with the tragically iconic incident of the mattress pile toppling in the Princess and the Pea. The most recent incident—referred to ominously as the “harness” incident from last year’s Peter Pan production—nearly sent the theatre’s jewel, Lee Seokmin, straight to the hospital, though he was kept content with a hot fudge sundae and a coupon book. How that worked was beyond your understanding.

You had known Seungkwan since middle school, and it had always been his dream to be appointed stage coordinator. While it was bestowed to him under hapless circumstances, he was taking the school’s original production, Lost on Planet Smeckle, to an almost concerning degree of seriousness, constantly walking around with a pen spinning between his fingers and an “inspiration” notebook tucked at the elbow which you assumed was rather void. In truth, it was a particularly hard job to get suspended from. Jennie used to operate the sound panel for the plays. You swore she almost never hit the right button or was either incredibly delayed at doing it, and she was never admonished once.

“Are you going to contribute any ideas or not?” Seungkwan quipped, leaning back in his chair with an ankle propped on his knee.

Squishing up the sloppy remainder of your sandwich into its plastic wrap, you chucked it at him, knocking the pen out his hand.

“Like I know how to spice up Lost on Planet Smoogle—”

“Smeckle!”

“Smeckle—whatever it is. You’re asking the wrong girl.”

After sliding his pen back with his foot, Seungkwan seemed to agree that you were impracticable, therefore illuminating Chan as the rubber to bounce any incoming ideas off. Lunch was nearly over anyways. You decided to let the boys hash out whatever they could.

“I’m going to the library.”

Chan reached for your hand, fluttering his eyes sweetly.

“I’ll come find you after chemistry, okay?”

“Sure thing,” you smiled, leaning down to give him a peck.

Speaking of the library, it had finally dawned on you that the couple who routinely opted to swap spit on the staircase were gone and  graduated. While you had never been fond of them, they probably had the strongest relationship in the entire school. Chan occasionally joked about taking their place—it always earned him a thwap to the forehead.

Honestly, you weren’t sure why you escaped to the library, because hanging out with Seungkwan and Chan felt… right. They offered the company you always longed for in high school—a small, concrete group that was free of toxicity, the type of friends to groan with you about how unpalatable the cafeteria food was, stand with you outside your classes when the teacher was notably late and giggle about that stupid rhetoric of skipping after fifteen minutes. They were normal and familiar and that was all you could ask for. Seventeen was boring. Good boring.

A few minutes had gone by as you picked through the spines.

You kept sliding out and re-shelving the books without any actual intention of having them stamped. But then you pulled out a thick history novel that was at eye level. It revealed a perfect gap into the next aisle—exactly where Jennie and her friend Marina were standing. It surprised you so abruptly that you had flinched, cramming the book back into place as though you were restoring a bewitched, sacred artifact you definitely shouldn’t’ve touched. You should have left too. Except you didn’t, instead hovering close to the shelf where you deeply inhaled the scent of dusty paper, eavesdropping their conversation.

“Is that the one about the Galapagos finches?”

“Nope, dunno what it is—oh, there, barn owls. Not quite.”

“Maybe I should switch my topic. I fuckin’ hate biology. You think if I paid you ten bucks and half a joint, you’d write my project?”

“Yeah, no way. I’ll help you, though.”

“C’mon! You’re the only one I know who’s getting a ninety-five in bio. The teacher fucking loved your poster on those weird frog things.”

“The poison dart frog? Those are cool. I always went to their exhibit at the nature museum with my brother. You can get them as wooden toys with a stick. They sound like the actual frog.”

“Pfft, the nature museum. You’re such a loser, Jen. Ah—since you mentioned him, how is that dude, anyways? Mr. Beautiful.”

“Joshua?”

“Mmhm.”

Okay, this has to be your exit. Even just hearing his name feels like a tiny scalpel running the length of your heart. It’s been months and that chapter has closed. You’ve sutured your own cuts and moved on.

“He’s doing pretty good.”

Wait, pretty good? You paused. Pretty good, how?

“Uh, classes are fun. He really likes his roommate. Remember Jeonghan? He’s got an apartment with him. Life’s good for that idiot.”

No—what the hell are you doing? You don’t care!

“Okay, nice. Has he gone to any like, crazy parties? Everyone says the parties at uni are unmissable and you’re guaranteed to eat an edible without even knowing it. I’m not sure if that’s good, though.”

“Uh, yeah. He’s been to a few.”

Is it just you or did someone slick this part of the floor with glue?

“Got a girlfriend yet? I wouldn’t be surprised with those daydreamy eyes of his and the deceivingly angelic voice.”

Your breath stilled, lungs contracting, nerves simmering. Jennie hadn’t answered yet. It felt like time was viscous and nearly unmoving. At first, she chuckled, sliding a book back onto the shelf until it clicked.

“A girlfriend? Don’t think so. And never say those things again.”

In one gigantic exhale, the air gushed out your nose. If not for the bell startling you into reality, you might have slid down against the shelf due to anxiety, melted into a puddle even for the janitor to scrub away.

Something inside you had embarrassingly given.

It could not happen again.

Your fork sliced into the edge of orange, mashed sweet potato until it clinked against the plate, stainless steel scraping porcelain as you dragged it up and set the prongs onto your tongue. Chan was cutting rosemary asparagus in half to your left, keeping his eyes fixed on the stalks that were glimmery in butter and sauce. Picking up her wine glass, your mother took a slow, savoury sip. She watched the both of you.

Dinner was always so fucking awkward. Your mother had insisted she throw something together despite the fact she’d come straight home from work, still confined to her button-tight blouse and knee-length pencil skirt she hated, stalking around the kitchen in her clicky heels. She had met Chan once or twice before, though he never stayed for dinner. It was her opportunity to finally pin him in place, and it was going horribly.

Maybe it was weird to think, but some people just weren’t good with mothers—not purposefully or accidentally or by unimaginative curse, but in a way that was rather ignorant. Everyone’s house was their house, and unfortunately, that was Chan. If you had known this was her plan, you would have dragged him upstairs, pushed him down in your swivel-back chair, flipped around the for-emphasis chalkboard and instructed him on exactly what not to do. Yet, there hadn’t been the opportunity for that.

“So, any ideas for college or university? A gap year maybe to secure some money? I know that you’re very interested in performance and theatre.”

“Oh, yeah,” Chan agreed, bits of green flashing in his teeth as he spoke with a full mouth, “I want to be like, a really amazing dance teacher, but work my way up to it doing tons of gigs—,” he paused to chug a gulp of water, “and um, I don’t know. I want to be like Usher or something.”

“Really?” Your mother remarked, her wine glass settling onto the coaster with a light thud. “Usher? I guess he’s more your generation.”

“Yeah, probably,” Chan answered, also placing his cup back on the table, completely missing the coaster, “there’s this one song I really love, it goes like—”

Oh no. You braced a palm against your forehead, hardly watching from the edge of your vision as Chan sat up straight and pitched his hand.

“Shorty got down and said “come and get me”, yeah, yeah, I got so caught up, I forgot she told me, yeah, yeah, her and my girl, used to be the best of homies, next thing I knew, she was all up on me scream—”

You grabbed onto his arm, disguising it as a sincere, thoughtful touch despite your nails teething down on his skin.

“That was really great. Thank you, babe.”

“Well, I just—I hadn’t got to the rest of it yet.”

“No, I know,” your nails clawed a little deeper, “that’s fine.”

It was best to stop him before he entered a whole performance number in your dining room, to which you could picture him tripping over his own feet and tearing a photo frame off the wall, or elbowing the fine china teapot that had been a gift from your grandmother. He didn’t have the best spatial awareness, or awareness of anything, really. Your mother was sitting back, smiling, one leg folded over the other with her head in a slight tilt that seemed deceivingly warm and intrigued. She wasn’t going to say it, but she didn’t have to. Chan was below your standards.

“You know, that’s good.” She pointed a finger at him. “I’d love to see the full routine one day. You’ve got that…” she swirled her hands around as though she were clearing a crystal ball, “that star factor. Very cool.”

“Thank you.” Chan grinned, setting his elbows onto the table where he then hiccupped quietly into his hands (it was more of a belch, but you were admittedly trying to water down how insensible he was in even your own mind).

If wizards were real, you were dying for one to zap you with the end of their wand, preferably into a pile of sparkly ashes.

Somehow, dinner came to an end. While Chan excused himself for a bathroom break, you stood at the sink with your mother, dutifully polishing the forks she’d set into the dry rack. It was silent for a minute or two. At least her heels were finally off, though bits of hair from that slicked updo were beginning to tickle her face while she scrubbed away at the plate. You really didn’t want to discuss what happened anyway. But after you organized the cutlery into the drawer, your mother gave you a look that felt loaded as she let the soapy water drain.

Well, here we go.

“You know, I don’t dislike him as much as you think I do. There’s definitely character. He’s just… far below you, in my opinion. And I wish I could say I understand why you’re dating him, but I don’t.”

Opting to stay silent, you wiped down the puddles around the sink.

“I won’t throw up all my inklings onto you now, especially when I know the kid’s down the hall, doing God knows what—and I can tell by this little shoulders-buckled, lip-tight thing you’re doing that you don’t wanna talk about it. Gosh… at least we’ve got leftovers for tomorrow.”

“Mmhm.” You hummed, just to acknowledge you’d heard her.

“Oh, you know who I liked? That brother, the brother of that girl you used to be best friends with. Jennie and… J-something. They both had names with J’s. Their mother is in such better shape than me. Help me out here. I know damn well that counter’s dry by now.”

Crossing your arms, you rolled the very corner of the dish towel between your thumb and pointer finger, feeling his name rise along the back of your throat like it was being summoned out, against your will.

“Joshua.”

“Yes! Him! I adored that one. I always thought he liked you, too.”

“Mom! I don’t think we should be talking about this.”

“It’s true! I mean, he drove you home from school all the time. He always bought you things. And he had these eyes that were just… he looked at you different, so deeply, like he truly cared about you. I just—I know he’s older, two years or something, but I felt safe whenever you said you were with him. I kept waiting for him to come here for dinner.”

“I said we shouldn’t be talking about this and you’re talking about it!”

“Okay well I—”

The bathroom door squeaked open from down the corridor.

Both of you sealed your mouths shut.

It was 10pm, and Chan was asleep at your side, the two of you miraculously cramped onto the twin size bed shoved against the wall with the sheets pulled a generous amount onto his half. Not that you cared. It was warm in your bedroom, and the heat from your hard backs pressed together was making you slightly sweaty. To feel uncomfortable in your own home was one thing—but in your own bedroom? The place you had perfectly cultivated over the years to always feel comfortable? Part of you wanted to crawl out from your own skin like that was something humans did. Chan was a great friend. Maybe it should have stayed like that.

Or, maybe it was just late, and you were too warm to think with clarity.

Wedging out your phone from beneath the quilt, you took a cautious peak over your shoulder, only to see the dark, dim outline of Chan’s shoulder bone digging into yours. Then, you turned back to your phone.

Instagram. That was usually what you did when you couldn’t sleep. A filtered and superficial glance into the very uninteresting lives of people who thought they were interesting was certain to make you tired.

A picture of Seungkwan with his empty script book.

Oh, there’s Seokmin eating ice cream with his girlfriend.

Marina? Since when did you follow her? Apparently, you did. Probably when you thought it was still possible to mesh yourself into her friendship with Jennie and become the triplet friend group everyone was envious of. Except you strongly disliked Marina. And Jennie hated you.

You two still followed each other.

@jennie.hg commented on @marinascapilatti’s photo: “HOT. SMOULDERING. FUCKING SEXY AS FUCK.”

@marinascapilatti replied to @jennie.hg: “LMAO. love you sm babe!!”

For some reason, you clicked on Jennie’s profile. Thumbing to the bottom, you realized she hadn’t removed the old pictures of you two together, even if they were from two or more years ago. Jennie had never been one to constantly delete pictures and reshape her account as she got older. She liked the memories. The beauty of an archive. Letting people know exactly who she had been because that was never a concern to her.

You opened a picture she had posted on your birthday three years ago.

@jennie.hg: a lot of u ppl know this girl. she’s my best friend or something. since sixth grade. it’s her birthday. so if you don’t wish her a happy birthday then you’re dead to me and you suck! xo.

That day, people you had never spoke to more than once or twice said happy birthday to you in the halls, or in the lunch line, on the way into your next class, even in the washroom. You decided to look at more comments on the picture, pausing on one in particular.

@joshua_hong_1230: it’s your birthday? happy birthday!:)

Fuck. Were you really about to do this? With your boyfriend asleep beside you, so close that he was crushing you into the wall?

A deep, deep sigh.

Yes.

First, you had to unblock him, convincing yourself it would only be for a moment or two as you quickly gleaned his account (out of curiosity and definitely not the emotion tugging your heart in a very sensitive direction). Pressing onto the most recent picture, you bit your lip.

404 likes. 51 comments. @joshua_hong_1230: clink.

Him and his university friends crowded around a restaurant table, half-emptied glasses of alcohol and dinner plates everywhere. You only recognized Jeonghan who was right beside Joshua in the photo. On his other side, a girl you had never seen before. She was leaning into him closely, her hair tousled in pretty, effortless manner that somehow reminded you of Elsie. Continuing down the rabbit hole, you opened her profile. Her name was Daphne. She was in biomed. Cute sundresses that hugged her shape in all the right places glowing from her feed. 

As much as you wanted to believe you were genuinely interested in this Daphne girl’s life, you weren’t. What you really wanted to know was obvious. In fact, it slapped you in the face, filled you with shame and embarrassment and now you were stuffing your phone beneath the cold side of the pillow hoping it would disappear.

Stop thinking about him.

Stop comparing yourself to everyone in his life.

Valentine’s Day seemed to come out of nowhere. One minute you were scalding your tongue with the taste of disgustingly hot cocoa, attempting to stick together a gingerbread house using prayers and pastry icing, and peeking between your blinds at the carollers who were singing the loudest version of Silent Night that you’d ever heard. But then you had blinked, and suddenly everything was pink. Roses were being sold in the front foyer (you specifically told Chan not to purchase one because you knew that under your care, it would wilt in a week) and the number of cinnamon hearts you’d smelled on people’s breath was almost concerning. Not to mention the Stupid Cupid Dance was tonight.

At first, you didn’t want to go. Most memories you recalled of the dance were actually quite pleasant, though Jennie had still been your best friend then, and jumping around manically with her while student council showered the crowd with candy grams eased the sting of not being with him. However, Chan was oddly passionate about going. He didn’t swoon to your idea of staying home with a movie and some cheap sugar cookies. In fact, he even offered to accompany you with your dress shopping, though you both got insanely bored halfway through the process and decided to play games at the arcade instead. The best outfit you could muster was a long, oversized dress shirt with a stylish belt to wrap around the waist, alongside some thigh-high pink socks.

It was… definitely something.

The dance was roughly two hours away. You were lounging across your bed, twirling a cherry-flavoured sucker against the inside of your cheek. Chan was sitting on the floor, still trying to fix his tie.

“Do you want me to look up a tutorial or something?” You asked in a bored tone, temple feeling sore from leaning against your fist.

With his tongue curling against his lip, Chan declined. “No, no, think I’ve almost got it… just gotta slip it up and under and… there!”

You could hardly choke out a lukewarm congratulations as you completely spread out across the bed sheets, blinking up the ceiling with the sticky taste of cherry on your lips. Chan edged off the floor and sat beside you, prompting you to raise your head onto his lap.

“Dunno if it’s a good thing to bring up, but your mood is a little… it’s not doing too great, babe. Is there anything I can do?”

Obviously, you wanted to skip the dance. It’s not that you believed it would be unenjoyable with Chan—he did have the tendency to wander and was easily absorbed into conversations with friends, almost exiling you to stand there stiltedly the entire time—but other than that, he was a fantastic dancer and you loved watching him (you had never once danced with him at a party because you felt more like a hindrance to his spotlight). Besides, the gym was only so big, and since Jeonghan had graduated there was no one else at the school to host blow-out parties.

“What if we just didn’t go?” You mumbled around the sucker.

“Uh—no! We have to! Seungkwan’s gonna meet us there.”

“I know, I know. But we can do something fun that’s not the Stupid Cupid Dance! Like, um—we could—there’s always—how about we go the river? It’ll be a little chilly but we can bring our jackets. I think fresh air is what I need. You could teach me to skip rocks.”

Chan’s hand fell into your hair. It felt sympathetic.

“Skip rocks? What makes you think I can do that?”

Pushing yourself up, you groaned, “I don’t know, Chan. I just don’t want to go. Can we make a compromise at least?”

Your boyfriend paused for a moment, slumping against the wall and pursing his lips like he was tediously wracking his brain.

“We can stay for two hours. Then we can go to the river and throw rocks, or whatever it was—the thing you just said.”

“Yes, thank you, thank you!”

He seemed surprised at how ecstatic you behaved, his hands  rather delayed as they climbed up to your hips, responding to the hug you had draped him in. You pressed a kiss against his cheek, then a swift one to his mouth, knowing he could taste the cherry and how sweet it was.

“The song—the song, they’re changing the song!”

“Yeah, I know, I can hear it—”

“Can you hold this? And this? And my phone—last time it flung out of my pocket and I got big crack in my screen protector.”

“No, Chan—can you wait? It’s almost time to go—”

“I promised that I would do this dance with Seungkwan!”

“So you’re leaving me alone?”

“No, no, no—just—it will be fun! And I’m really good at the dance for this song. Watch me and you’ll see. Thanks, babe! You’re the best!”

“The promise you made to Seungkwan,” you sagged, attempting to hold his suit jacket, drink, and phone all in one severely cramping hand, “what about the promise you made to me?” Walking over to the bench in the gym corner, you set all his possessions down one at a time, gritting your teeth. “I love how much I matter to you, babe.”

You squinted at the exit across the room and attempted to maneuver your way toward it, twisting and wriggling and tiptoeing around everyone until this girl had stepped backward into your way. She flicked a straight curtain of hair over her shoulder and you smelled tart perfume—almost nauseating—as she talked with her friend.

“I feel like these parties were so much better when they weren’t school-sanctioned! No one in student council is stepping up. Why do all the seniors suck this year? Where is everyone with surgeon parents?”

“I know. People were moving the tiles in the girl’s washroom at lunch so they could put Vodka bottles up there. It was so funny.”

“Someone will snitch and they’ll make us do the breathalyser thing—no way they’re doing that to me! It’s like, my right or something.”

“Hey guys, pardon me, I’m going that way.”

“You’re going where?”

“That way, to the exit.”

“You’re trying to leave? Are you going to the washroom? They make you write down your name, y’know, on this clipboard, and they time you. Isn’t that fucking stupid? Like, if you take an extra minute to piss or open a tampon, they’re going to call your parents.”

“Um, that’s—”

“Like, ouuu, I’m so scared. Hey, are you rich by any chance? Not even rich—just like, you’re moderately above average and it’s likely that you have an inground pool? Or, you know someone who is rich?”

“I don’t, sorry…”

“Fuck—it’s whatever.”

“Can you move now? I’m leaving.”

“Oh, yeah—sorry. But you heard the thing I said right, about the washrooms and the clipboard? I hope you’re not going piss!”

Her and her friend were now too far behind you for a response to be meaningful. Your head was throbbing, almost like there was gun powder sitting in your skull instead of a brain, awaiting the flare to thunderously ignite. You tried to slink past the vending machines on your way out, hoping to be inconspicuous and unimportant.

“Uh—excuse me, young lady. I can’t let you walk out. It’s a little loud but I know you hear me.” The teacher started waggling her finger.

“Sorry.”

“Where are you going? Washroom? You’ll need to write your name down on this clipboard as well as the time. I know students have been complaining about this, but it’s a rule and no one is exempt.”

“No, I don’t need the washroom. My head hurts.”

“At least four other girls have told me that, then I saw them all together with this big bottle, stumbling around the track field when I was supervising. Just hold on a moment, I’ll radio a teacher to go with you outside. That way you can get some fresh air, and we know you’re not up to anything that’s against the rules. Can I have your name?”

“Is it for the clipboard?”

“Yes… I have a pencil—here.”

“Well… I don’t need someone to go with me outside.”

“It’s the rule. We need to keep track of all students.”

“I don’t have any alcohol. Or cigarettes.”

“I understand that, but—hey! Hey! You are not allowed to go anywhere unless—young lady, this is not okay!”

You heard the blip on her walkie-talkie as she attempted to alert some other teacher. She’d been following you to the doorway at the front of the school, though she stopped the second you were outside, picking up your pace until you were almost sprinting away from her. It was hardly rebellious—in your eyes, you saw it as less than pathetic. You had decided to turn cheek and flee from her like you had been sent to your room.

Chan wasn’t anywhere close to the boyfriend you had been convincing yourself he was. You didn’t even take his phone or dump his things on the floor or break up with him in the middle of the dance floor as some sort of hedonistic, petty revenge that wouldn’t bare any significance a year from now. Everything had felt so colourless and dull lately. You couldn’t tell if it was your own fault or not.

Balancing your feet at the very edge of the curb, you wondered why February had to be such an awful month. Nothing good had happened since it started. And now it was chilly and wet and dark outside, with big lumps of grey, dirt-speckled snow spilling hideously all over the place. You had left your jacket inside. The thinness of your long dress-shirt let the cold prick you like little razors, and you were beyond tired at pulling up those thigh-high socks which kept shrinking down your legs. February felt like it was asking to be punched in the face.

It seemed like just yesterday you were standing in this exact spot, beside Jennie, squinching through the brightness of a summer sky. You remembered waiting for her brother to appear around the corner in his silver car, his stereo vibrating with different songs each time, the interior smelling like mint gum and foam cleaner. Hansol was always in the front seat, sticking his hand out the window, singing confidently into the oncoming breeze with the boxiest grin on his face. You remembered the intense nervousness you felt accidentally catching Joshua’s eye in the rear-view mirror—how your fingers curled from the anxiety.

The air was too cold for you to stand still. Once a shudder wracked along your arms, you decided to keep walking, kicking a pebble that had melted out from another mushy pile of snow. Upon reaching the end of the sidewalk, extremely bright lights flooded behind you and the pebble was somehow swallowed up. An engine was guzzling heavy at your side and you contemplated crossing the street despite the pixelated red hand glaring at you. Then, you heard a window roll down.

“Are you the type of girl I can p—”

“I’m seventeen,” you interrupted, refusing to acknowledge the man who was eyeing you a little too excitedly from inside his vehicle.

“Well, I have a nice warm truck right here, in case you want to hop inside if you need a ride anywhere. I can unlock the door for ‘ya.”

“I said I’m seventeen.”

“I’ve seen lots of women like you when I wa—”

“I’m not a woman, I’m a teenager.”

You looked at him once through the inky shadows and saw that merely the outline of his face was visible, with slight glints hollowing what you suspected were his eyes. Something in your chest wobbled. The second the walking-man appeared, you hurried across the street with your thumbs tucked deeply into your fists. Too afraid to continue home alone, you swung into the corner store with the spring-painted overhang you had loved so much in your past, pretending to need something. You paused at the slushie machine—the greatest contributor to all your after-school brain freezes and headaches. An ‘out of order’ sign was taped to the glass. From the peeled, slightly stained edges of the paper, you assumed no one had bothered stopping by to repair it in months.

There wasn’t anything you could buy anyways. Joshua had always bought you a drink or a bag of mostly-air packaged chips when you stopped here—either that or he would give you something he bought for himself. At times you would sit beneath the overhang together, bracing through salt and vinegar flavoured chips that stung the soft, cushioned inside of your mouths, drinking soda, throwing the little stones at your feet. For the first time in a long while, you admitted it.

You missed him.

When the clerk disappeared underneath the counter to dislodge another magazine he had most likely read for the hundredth time, you slipped out the door delicately. You then removed your phone from its very convenient spot (tucked between your bra, obviously). For a moment, you studied the number that you had once blocked in the dusk of summer—certain it would never be touched again no matter how much you could be hurting, crying, or grieving the pieces of love you had somehow lost along the way. And you stayed true to that certainty. You didn’t unblock Joshua’s number, rather you just tempted yourself with the idea of it, like smelling a piece of cake but never taking a bite.

Of course, it was unsatisfying. But you pretended it wasn’t.

The river had to be nearby, the sort of thing you could always tell was getting closer and closer because the water sounded like busy wind in tree leaves. It started appearing over a distant crest, which you eventually came to pause at, staring down unto the bank and its large slabs of rock that were now frosted with snow. This was the place you were supposed to be with Chan—if he hadn’t completely ignored your compromise. The fact he wasn’t texting you, worried sick or even an inch concerned, engendered you to think you weren’t really anything to him at all. He didn’t want to be tethered by a girlfriend, that was obvious.

You stared for a little longer, growing colder and stiffer, tracing the places you stood when Joshua had been showing you how to skip stones. But then you started hearing footsteps crunch in the snow, and as you squinted down the bank, you sucked in a dry, freezing breath.

“Jennie!” Your voice cracked. “What the hell are you doing?!”

The girl stopped abruptly, and her shoes sunk awkwardly into the snow, her face visibly flushed in the street lights shining down on the shore. She seemed almost embarrassed to be caught by you, though it should have been the other way around, considering your last words to her were about her older brother rejecting you whilst sat on his lap.

“I’m walking to the corner store!” Jennie shouted back, burying herself deeper into the brown coat draped over her shoulders.

“Why?!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“… Uh, I dunno!”

“If you keep yelling, you’ll start an avalanche somewhere!”

“You’re yelling too!”

Somehow, you successfully managed your way down the riverbank without slipping on a hidden piece of ice. Jennie huffed as you approached her, shaking snow clumps off her sneaker.

“Why don’t you just take the sidewalk?” You asked.

It felt inconceivably strange to look at her face this directly after the fight—to gauge the slow unfurling of maturity in her cheekbones and jawline—to realize how tall she suddenly was—even her impressively long hair which surrounded her like a rippling, black sea. She took a moment before answering, leading you to believe she had studied your face as well. The thought made you uncomfortable yet pleased.

“Why are you dressed like a Dollar Store hooker?”

You couldn’t help but guffaw at that—her humour hadn’t evolved much.

“I went to the Stupid Cupid Dance.”

“Oh—that.”

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Uh… I don’t know,” Jennie shrugged, her eyes drifting along the dark expanses behind you, “I didn’t have anyone to go with.”

“You don’t need a date—”

“No—like, I know that. I don’t have any… friends, I mean.”

“That’s not true. I see you with people all the time. You’re popular as shit. What about Marina? Is she sick?”

“No. We haven’t been talking lately. I don’t think I missed out on anything, anyways. You already left, and by the looks of it, the dance was so bad you didn’t even want to stay to get your jacket. I don’t know how you’re not freezing your tits off. I’m cold, and I have a coat.”

“Yeah, I am cold, but I didn’t wanna go straight home ‘cause this weirdo pulled up beside me at the crosswalk. I was actually supposed to come here with Chan—he clearly had other things that mattered more.”

“Your boyfriend’s kinda lame.”

“Okay—yes, you’re right. Ouch, though.”

“I mean, you tend to like lame guys—my brother, for example.”

The nausea in your stomach dropped. It was a very sickly swirling of butterflies and the slight urge to vomit onto the snow, though you tacked a smile upon your face that definitely wasn’t as soft as you thought. Jennie then blew a strand of hair from her eyes, beginning to shake her head at you. It seemed that she wasn’t bitter, just confused.

“Well, he rejected me,” you stated simply.

She huffed in a gloomy breath, “I know.”

It was quiet again.

“I don’t like him anymo—”

“Oh—just stop, okay?” Jennie exhaled deeply through her teeth, and her gaze burned into yours like a flaming arrow. “I always suspected you had a crush on him. I don’t care anymore. I just wanted reasons to be mad at you since we were growing apart, and there wasn’t even a good explanation for it. I thought if I made up a reason to just—I don’t know—hate you, then it would make me feel better about us. We aren’t friends anymore and that’s fine. That’s what happens. That’s life.”

You struggled to swallow. It felt like the cold air had somehow frozen your throat, and now you could only stare at Jennie, speechless.

“He was so angry at me,” the girl continued, brushing something wet and shiny from her pink-stained cheek, “when I finally cracked and told him about our fight. I mean, he’s been like, ‘mad’ before, but never angry. Until then. Almost yelling at me—just, a bunch of emotion all over his face and stuff. I knew he was in love with you. He never wanted to say it, but he didn’t have to—like I said, he’s lame.”

For some reason, you couldn’t help chuckling.

“Oh yeah, he loves me—like a friend.”

“He just didn’t want to pressure you.”

“Jennie, I was in your brother’s fucking lap, kissing him. He didn’t pressure me at all. And he said something like, ‘I can’t do this, I shouldn’t do this’, and he didn’t even try to stop me from leaving. How could I have made it any clearer I wanted him?”

“Okay—well! My brother is an idiot, then! I don’t know what else to tell you—he got cold feet, he was worried about a long-distance relationship, it all felt too soon, he wasn’t sure how I’d react—I don’t know what he was thinking. I just know he had feelings for you, and if I somehow interfered and ruined it for you two, I’m sorry. But at this point, I don’t care what happens. I honestly never did. Just don’t pretend that you’re not still in love with him ‘cause you think I’ll be mad about it.”

After a tired, musing sigh, you broke off from her eyes and stared across the river, rubbing at your cheeks that were numb and stiff. It was then you realized how fucking insufferably cold you were, to which Jennie unzipped her long brown coat, gesturing for you to huddle beside her underneath it. You didn’t hesitate—not even for a second.

“It’s atrocious out here,” she breathed unsteadily into the lashing wind, “my house is closer than yours. You can warm up there.”

“Didn’t you need to go to the convenience store?”

You heard the smile she fought to supress as she huffed, “I lied. I was just taking a walk. I don’t know why I lied about that.”

“When it’s this cold?”

“Shut up! You have no room to talk right now.”

“I know, I know. But, really—you could have just stayed home.”

With a secure grip on her far shoulder, you both made baby steps up the riverbank, back toward the street. Jennie clutched your waist.

“I’m tired of being at home. I don’t have anything to do there.”

You giggled, “why not watch a movie? Or play a video game?”

“It’s not fun by yourself.”

“Well, we should do that—watch a movie or something. I wanted to stay home, anyways. And we can make big mugs of hot chocolate.”

“I think we have marshmallows,” Jennie said while smiling.

For some reason, you thought you could cry. There seemed to be a distant, swelling sting pressing at the back of your eyes, enough for you to sniffle and thickly swallow, though the tears never actually fell. It was just… nice… to talk with Jennie again. She was the one part of your life that you believed would always stick, and having her slip so rapidly from between your fingers had been a tough knife in your back. You weren’t positive if after tonight things would still be this cordial. Maybe you two would wake up again, knowing there was nothing left but dust in all the cracks and crevices of your friendship. It was impossible to say.

Right now, however, she was the person you needed most.

You sensed it was the same for her.

Joshua came home at the beginning of June.

A little less than a year had passed since you last saw him at his graduation party—the day responsible for birthing your abruptly decided choice to weed him from your life. It was easier to commit to such an extremity knowing he was hundreds of kilometers away. Yet, that didn’t mean it was easy exiling him. How were you supposed to forgot about someone who spent the last five years comfortably burrowing in your head and heart? And—right when you thought it was possible to finally cut the remaining wire, he pulled back into the Hong driveway in that silver bullet car like he’d never left. As easy as a cool breeze.

You were walking to the corner store that day, knowing they had a help wanted sign currently hanging in their window. It seemed like a simple gig, it’s just that you wouldn’t be allowed to ring up cigarettes, lottery tickets or beer. Passing Joshua and Jennie’s house was almost inevitable, though you had officially accepted the portrait of their driveway without that silvery, shiny car. So, when you casually flicked your head left to glimpse their house across the street, you were stunned and even horrified to see the vehicle once erased from your thoughts.

It was reversed into the driveway. The trunk was popped open, and judging by their open garage, someone was lugging suitcases into the house. You didn’t move for a solid minute. Instead, you watched the trunk, as you swore that someone was digging through it. And then you saw a hand touch the top edge, running along its chrome embellishment before beginning to slam it down. You knew it was Joshua before you even saw the person’s face—he had very particular ways of doing things. At first, he didn’t notice you while adjusting the duffle bag strapped over his shoulder and the backpack hanging off his other arm. The lanyard to his car keys was cutely dangling from his mouth.

His eyes impetuously scanned the street, whisking over you like the dull detail nobody was moved enough to highlight—until something about him jerked and suddenly he was squinting directly at you. He slowly took the car keys from his mouth, continuing to observe you from across the street, most likely attempting to fill in the differences of your face and figure—decide if it was even you, he was squinching at.

Immediately, you felt sick to your stomach.

Every single emotion, thought, and feeling came stampeding back through your bones and your skin and your blood. It was almost suffocating—like witnessing a tidal wave of your own secrets looming so far above that you needed to crane your neck to find where it stopped. In your next breath, you were walking away, refusing to look back.

The worst part was feeling Joshua watch you.

The worst, worst part was knowing you weren’t any less in love with him than before he left.

[ jenn-E | 2:14 pm ]: if ur heading to the house now I prob won’t be home for another half hour. stupid dentist appointment!! >:(

[ _____ | 2:14 pm ]: do you not have a drill in ur mouth rn?

[ _____ | 2:14 pm ]: you’re being such an irresponsible patient!!

[ jenn-E | 2:14 pm ]: she left the room. and I like the drill.

[ _____ | 2:14 pm ]: weirdo alert

[ jenn-E | 2:14 pm ]: RUDE!!!

[ jenn-E | 2:14 pm ]: see u soon <3 garage door should be open

[ _____ | 2:15 pm ]: okay! byebye <3

You slid the phone back into your shorts pocket, continuing down the sidewalk with one eye pierced shut. The sun was beaming on you so intensely that you felt the warm sting along your arms and legs, and there was probably a sweaty shine brighter than the north star reflecting off your forehead. Sometimes summer was insufferable. It felt like there was nothing you could do to cool down. There better be ice cream in the fridge, you thought, or a whole package of popsicles. As you drew nearer to the house, you saw that the garage door was indeed open. Then you started walking hurriedly into their driveway.

It was too goddamn hot out.

“Yeah, I’ll try that next… Mmhm… I thought it went the other way?... No—the other, other way… Dude? Are you fucking stupid?... I didn’t mean that, I didn’t mean it… Never mind Jeonghan, I meant it.”

Oh no. Joshua wasn’t supposed to be at home today. His car wasn’t in the driveway, so you hadn’t anticipated marching straight into this astonishingly awkward predicament. You forgot about the old couch they kept in their garage. Jennie used to quip and demand for Joshua to play his guitar there since she couldn’t stand the noise of him railing on the chords. He was speaking to someone on the phone—Jeonghan, his roommate—though he was wearing his earbuds so Joshua hadn’t heard you come in. For a snap-instant, you contemplated turning the other way and making a very understandable sprint back home.

“Okay, just send me the chord progression you’re thinking of then… Oh? Wait, I have my guitar, listen to this… Good, right?... If there’s tweaks then—yeah, yeah, exactly… Just send me it and I’ll—”

Well, it was too late for that, anyway. Joshua had finally noticed you standing like some ghostly apparition who definitely thought they were invisible by the garage threshold. His eyes widened in shock, and you couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile as he attempted to push his roommate off the phone. You sighed, walking toward him slowly.

“I have to go—‘cause, I do!... No I would never do that, I really need to go, though… Send-me-the-chord-progression-okay-bye!” He chucked the last sentence together so quickly it sounded like one word and proceeded to pull out his earbuds.

You had no idea what to do, what to say, or how to piece together an expression on your face that wasn’t strained. He cleared off the coffee table of its old magazines and thick newspapers, to which you sat down across from him with clammy hands clutching your shorts and the largest lump in your throat. God—you hadn’t seen his face in nearly a year, and what a beautiful face he had. His hair was the slightest bit copperier, like it had been sun-kissed, and his skin seemed to have tanned as well. Even his cheeks had maturely sharpened out. You had trouble staring at him, especially his eyes, because you knew exactly how they made you feel—it was a drink of something warm and sweet and glimmery.

“So…” Joshua started to lean back, plucking a few soft strings on his guitar, “I’m still blocked, y’know? Just in case you forgot.”

“I haven’t,” you reminded him in an instant, trying inconceivably hard not to let the dopiest fucking smirk take over your face.

“You hate me?”

“No.”

“Do you want to hate me?”

“What’s the point of this?” Discretely rubbing off your palms, you managed to lock eyes with him, though only for a second.

Joshua shrugged, quirking his head at you.

“I’m trying to figure out why I’m still blocked.”

“Because I needed to get you… out.”

“Out of what?” He chuckled. “Your life?”

His question, you didn’t answer. These weren’t exactly things you wanted to admit aloud, let alone to the face of the person who was the subject. It seemed embarrassing, and maybe it shouldn’t be—maybe you should just own how you felt during those moments because you deserved the chance to finally just breathe. Stop holding things so tight until they popped into an explosion like the fight with Jennie.

“Yes,” you sighed after the brief silence, “I was hurt, and I was angry, and I didn’t want to sit in those feelings. That’s it.”

Joshua nodded, “because of what I said to you that day.”

“Essentially, yeah.”

You weren’t sure if he was going to apologize again. It hadn’t done him any good the last time, so you assumed he wouldn’t bother. For a moment, you contemplated asking him about what Jennie had told you that night at the river, when she revealed that he supposedly loved you.

Nothing ever left your mouth. The timing wasn’t right.

“So, do I get unblocked or not?” Joshua huffed.

Your feet crossed shyly. “Um, I’ll think about it… how’s school?”

“Uh, it has its ups and downs, highs and lows. I’m guessing you didn’t come here to ask about that. Jennie’s not home until later.”

“I know. She’s at the dentist.”

Joshua smiled, sitting up straighter and setting his guitar aside.

“Well, I’m glad you two patched it up. That doesn’t always happen. Not that there’s anything wrong with drifting away. I wasn’t sure if Hansol and I would keep talking. He’s in South Korea right now.”

“I heard, from Jennie.”

“Yeah,” the boy sighed, “they text and stuff.”

“Are you bothered by that?”

“No…?” Joshua replied ambiguously, scratching his head. “I haven’t decided yet. Hansol is cool, anyways. I’m not worried. But what about you? How’s your life been since I hit the city?”

At that, you leaned back against the coffee table and laughed, covering your mouth with a nervous hand. Upon first glance, it had been a boring yet deleterious mess—convincing yourself that you were happier and better off despite the very conspicuous hole suckling like a whirlpool in your chest. But if you looked a little deeper, it had been a journey of acknowledging said mess. You didn’t know how to explain it to Joshua.

“It was interesting.”

“Really? That’s all I get? I think you’re skirting the question.”

“Obviously,” you giggled again, “it’s a long story and not one you’d want to hear right now. I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Fine,” he succumbed, shoving his hands in his pockets, “did you get a boyfriend? Is that why you don’t wanna say anything?”

The heat engulfed you instantly, almost as though you were back outside and suffering under the density of those sun rays. The relationship with Chan had ended after the dance. He was utterly confused about the reasons why, prompting you to feel a bit of pity as you broke up him with him on his porch the next morning. Joshua tilted his head curiously, something a little playful and glinting in his eyes.

“I had a boyfriend,” you answered simply, almost whispered.

He started grinning, moving into an engaged position with his elbows on his knees. You quivered subtly at the closeness.

“Of course. Who?”

“Just, someone from my grade,” you prevaricated.

The boy’s gaze had fixed on you indefinitely.

“Who?”

“Someone.”

He gripped your shoulders—“Who?!”

You were burning up, and pushed him back—“Someone!”

Joshua collapsed against the couch, beginning to cross his arms while making a tsking sound with his teeth. The urge to excitably laugh hadn’t left the back of your throat, and you couldn’t stop mumbling around it as Joshua furrowed his brow at you. Having him touch you so suddenly struck a match. Your feelings hadn’t subsided in the slightest.

“I don’t think it’s important who. And, besides, you don’t deserve to know right now. We broke up back in February.”

“So, I don’t get to just know things about you now?” He asked, melting further down the couch. “I have to earn it?”

“Mmhm.”

He smirked, “fair enough… why’d you break up with him?”

“I didn’t say that I broke up with him.”

“Okay,” Joshua shrugged, losing his transient half-smile, “but we all know you did. Why? He didn’t treat you well enough, yeah?”

Your hands clenched together, pressing uncomfortably.

“We can talk about it later… what about you? Girlfriend?”

“No.”

You raised your brow and decided to poke at him, “wow—even with those eyes? Or does your sweetheart act not cut it anymore? Have you resorted to drugs, Joshua? It’s okay, you can tell me.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking funny,” he pretended to laugh while pushing his sneaker gently against your knee, “I just didn’t want one.”

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. Taking it out from your pocket, you saw that Jennie had sent a text about how she was heading home now. You swallowed tautly, glancing up at Joshua who seemed to realize what the vibration was. He looked rather disappointed, and you felt it deep in your gut too. There was so much more to talk about and joke about and this little sliver of time in the cool, shady garage had whipped past in a mere blink. But at least there was more transparency. Jennie knew and there was no reason to play coy. The whole summer and all its vibrance was still at your feet. You didn’t have to rush anything.

“It was nice catching up with you,” Joshua said, pulling the guitar back onto his lap, “shoot me a text whenever you decide to unblock me.”

“You won’t ignore me? Even with your big fancy university lifestyle now? Greasy takeout and bags of coins for the laundromat?”

“Never,” he smiled, winking casually, “by the way—”

Turning around in the doorway, you tilted your head at him.

“You look really pretty.”

18.

Joshua’s October reading week was nearly over—he’d be packing his suitcases tomorrow morning and escorted back into the city alongside some help from his father. You’d been invited over to their house for sushi night, to which you were currently fighting Jennie off with your chopsticks for the last yam tempura roll. She decided to let you have it, muttering something along the lines of, only because you’re the guest.

It had been roughly three years since your last dinner at their house, and while it was a bit nerve-wracking, you relaxed continuously throughout the night (which could be also attributed to the saké that Mrs. Hong let you pour a decent-sized cup of). Jennie slipped back into the dining room once she grabbed a soda can from the fridge, leaving you alone in the kitchen to decide between the last fried wonton or vegetable spring roll. You sighed, pinching your chopsticks in thought.

“Save room for dessert, y’know? They gave us ice cream.”

Joshua approached the sink, rinsing off his plate and emptied glass under the water. He’d drank more from that saké bottle than you, indicated by the peach-pink glow traversing his cheeks.

“I know, but I’m greedy. I haven’t eaten sushi in forever.”

He came beside you (who still couldn’t decide) and opened one of the drawers to remove some spoons for the ice cream. Joshua then proceeded to pick up the last golden-fried wonton with your chopsticks and dropped it onto your plate. You gaped at him as he nudged a quick kiss against your temple, watching the boy now pull open the freezer.

“I hadn’t made up my mind yet!”

Joshua shrugged, “now you don’t have to. The wonton is good, anyway. It’s got this slightly sweet cream cheese filling.”

“Blah, blah.”

Mrs. Hong entered the kitchen, exchanging a few words between you and Joshua while she cleaned her dishes. She said that her and her husband would be going upstairs to their bedroom for a movie.

“You and Jennie are welcome to do anything. Joshua—I’m guessing you’ll be in the garage? Or will you start packing tonight, dear?”

“Uh, I’ll start tonight. Makes it easier.”

“Okay, perfect. Here—I’ll help you take out the ice cream.” She took two of the bowls, but stopped in the doorway, “are you coming?”

“Yeah, I will,” Joshua replied, “in a sec.”

Once she left upstairs, you felt Joshua’s body push against your spine, his hand tapping your chin and lightly guiding your head to tilt back onto his shoulder. His parents didn’t know of the relationship and neither did yours. Only Jennie was aware. She had been easy to tell.

“I want to do something with you tonight,” Joshua whispered into your ear, his breath warm and ticklish, “after hours, of course.”

“Like what?” You asked in a soft, hushed tone, smiling against your bitten lip. The depth of his eye contact was so exhilarating that you wanted to pounce on him right then and there, refraining by a mere hair.

His hands drifted down to your hips, squeezing them.

“Nothing too special. I’ll surprise you.”

“Okay,” you lilted, “I like surprises. Sometimes.”

Immediately pushing up to meet his lips, you kissed him, lifting a hand behind you to run your fingers slowly through his hair. Put simply, the relationship had ignited just before Joshua left for his second year of university. He came to walk you home from a night shift at the corner store, the both of you kicking pebbles down the sidewalk and dancing around the topic that was so evidently dying to burst. That’s when you decided to ask him about what Jennie had said.

“Was she right? Were you in love with me?”

“Honestly, at the time, I don’t think I could have given you a straight answer. I knew that I felt something, but I wasn’t sure if it was right. You were always in the back of my mind. I thought about you more than I’d care to admit. But when I look at you now, I can definitively say I loved you... I love you, still. ”

Since the fading aurora of that late summer night, you two started dating. It was a fairly covert operation, yet that made it all the more alive and electrifying. The topic of the graduation party had consequently resurfaced—Joshua said he was just overwhelmed by his feelings for you, and that he crumbled in the moment. You didn’t care about the incident though. He was kissing and holding you now.

“Okay, let’s meet Jennie back in the dining room,” you giggled, pushing him away from licking and teething a mark to your neck, “and I’ll let you know what I think of this very crispy looking wonton.”

This year you and Jennie would be graduating. She had offered to do your nails and make-up, which were skills she had picked up from hanging out so frequently with her old girly-girl crowd. You had met some of them—the actually genuine ones who you could imagine holding back your hair during a wicked hangover or offering their most treasured life advice through a bathroom stall at a party. Jennie had maintained some of her interests from them, though she still liked the things you had originally known her for. It was a wholesome change.

“What style of nails do you want? Personally, I like the really pointy stiletto ones because it’s so easy to scratch people.”

“Of course that’s why you like them,” Joshua rolled his eyes, spooning some mango ice cream into his mouth.

“Maybe you could practice a bit on Joshua,” you laughed.

“Yes!” Jennie exclaimed, reaching over to ruffle her older brother’s pretty, mussed hair, “that’s so perfect, isn’t it, Joshy Woshy?”

He swatted her hand away, “I told you to stop calling me that. I don’t call you Jennifer anymore.” A gradual smirk crossed his lips.

That was the cardinal sin. Never call her Jennifer. You opted to stay quiet and finish your deep-fried wonton while they bickered and sniped at each other. At least it wasn’t about the fork with the oddly-dented prong this time. That always tended toward a wrestling match.

nsfw warning. 

skip to next divider if wanted!

“Shit, right there!”

Your hand flung into the darkness, bumping against the glass of the backseat window, its condensation wiped off in a messy, uncoordinated smudge. It felt too fucking good—his tongue, pressing up your most sensitive area, indulging slowly in each swirl and kiss and flick as if he would never get the opportunity to taste you here again. It was sometime past one in the morning, his car stalled in the empty lot overlooking the river bank, one single lamp post scattering the windows with a distant, glowing tint. You breathed in deep, closing your eyes.

“You like it that much?” Joshua laughed huskily, readjusting the leg cast down his shoulder. “You’ve got tears all over your face, baby.”

“Just give me more,” you whined in impatience, thrusting your hips toward his mouth with frustration, sensing his hovering breath.

He smirked, placing his thumb just above your clit and pulling back against the skin to expose it more clearly. Everything between your thighs had been generously drenched with your arousal and his spit.

“Are you sure? Think you can take cumming again? I won’t give you a break this time.” There was a teasing nature about his voice.

“Fuck, Joshua, I don’t care! Just keep licking me, please!”

“You’re so fucking whiney,” he murmured, suddenly jerking your body further down the upholstery, “I’ll let you drown me, then.”

In the next instant, his face was stuffed back into your heat, the touches of his tongue and the relentless slurping shooting every nerve in your body to starlight. You couldn’t help but thread your fingers into his wavy, sweat-dampened hair, holding him there as he practically drank you, feeling the pleasure tick higher and higher and higher. Even your hips adapted a mind of their own, attempting to grind against his face so that you could engulf him as much as possible. He caught onto your clit again, sliding his tongue directly into its most sensitive golden spot.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you moaned into the thick air, “like that, like that—hh-holy shit! M’g’nna cum, Joshua! Please, keep going!”

At that point, you didn’t even know what to articulate. A sheen of sweat had soaked through the thin t-shirt you wore to dinner, your skirt left in a pile in the passenger seat as it had been ripped off earlier. Joshua focused relentlessly on that one perfect spot until you tipped over the edge. The scream broke down in your throat before it could even hit the mugginess around you, not that anyone would have been able to hear you given the time. Contortions twitched through your face while your hips spasmed. And Joshua took it. He took everything. He was most definitely smirking as he slurped your pussy like ice cream—even pinned down your wrist when you began to weakly push and nudge at his head.

“Holy fuck, yy-you’re crazy, Jos—nngh!” Your voice wilted at the sensation of his tongue curling inside of you, wriggling just to ruin you a little further. Half your consciousness was floating in an intangible dimension behind your eyelids. “M’gonna be so fucking sore.”

Once he was satisfied with licking clean the mess between your thighs, Joshua ripped apart the buttons on your pale shirt, kissing up your stomach, your chest, pushing his slick lips onto yours and digging his warm tongue into your mouth. You grabbed his pants, helping tug them off while tasting every bit of yourself.

“I need t’fuck you so bad,” he whispered into your ear, his honeyed voice becoming coarser with desire, “while I still have your taste on my tongue—” your leg was then stretched over his shoulder again, “I need to be inside you more than anything—” he guided himself in with a single thrust, your gasps flushing together, “all these things I wanna do to you, all these things I wanna make you feel—” your nails carved into his back, dragging in scores across the muscle, “I want you t’keep crying for me—” his hand pressed into the slippery car window, leaving an imprint in the fog as he fluidly moved his hips against you, staring down at your wet, breathless face, “I want you to know how much I’m in love with you when I fuck your pretty body like this.”

Your lips trembled into a reverie-like smile. Gripping gently at the back of his neck, you sunk him down for a slow, thorough kiss.

“Love you too…” you whimpered, “ss-so much…”

The desperation and strength of your lust had just been too surmounting in the moment. Joshua hadn’t pulled out onto your stomach like he usually did, opting to keep himself nested inside as he shuddered and let his body release. When you came around him, there was next to nothing you remembered apart from the stars that twinkled through the open sky-light of the car and the intense convulsion you experienced while gazing at them. Joshua laid against you while he caught his breath. You couldn’t stop staring at the world above that resembled a beautiful black beach. There was something so spectacular about it—something so comfortable about quirking Joshua’s head toward the roof in order for him to see what you were seeing.

He nudged your temple with his nose.

“I didn’t plan for the stars to be out. I got lucky.” He answered in between warm breaths.

You turned to look at him with a faint simper. The tingles and throbs of pleasure were still pricking you, fading ever so gradually.

“I like to think they popped out just for us.”

He chuckled, “to see us have sex in the backseat of my car?”

You mushed a hand into his face, “don’t ruin the moment!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Joshua apologized, to which you stopped squishing your palm awkwardly into his cheek, “you’re right, they’re shining for us. Um, and, you’ve got your morning after, right? You said it was in your bag or something.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. We probably shouldn’t be that careless.” You laughed.

“Probably. But you feel so good.” 

“I know,” you poked out your tongue playfully, “let’s just not make a habit of it.”

“Fair enough.”

“It’s getting pretty late, though. Don’t you want to be home at least a little early? Catch more sleep before leaving?”

He shook his head nonchalantly, then notched you closer against his bare skin by the hip. The motion prompted you to shiver at the sensitive feeling of him still deep inside you, a soft breath exhaled from between your lips. Joshua decided to sweep his fingers delicately up and down your face to relax you, knowing your nerves were rather burnt out.

“It’s alright. I have time with you now. That’s what I care about.”

Present.

It wasn’t the most ideal day to be moving cardboard boxes of your appliances, pictures, and whatever else miscellaneous belongings into the building— especially considering the three staircases you had to climb. Unfortunately, you couldn’t control the weather, and that seemed to be proved almost spitefully as a fat, cold raindrop spat directly onto your forehead. With two boxes balanced against your chest, you let it dribble down toward your eye, until you spotted Jennie hopping out the front door to the complex and whined for her to wipe the droplet away.

“At least all the super heavy stuff was moved up yesterday,” she tried to include something positive, flipping up the hood of her plasticky-green raincoat, “this is just the knickknacks. I hope.”

“Mostly—hey, can you grab that box with the lamp? It’s sitting behind the passenger seat. Oh, thank you—you’re a gem.”

“I know,” Jennie chirped, poking out her tongue.

By the time most cardboard boxes were moved into the apartment, you had experienced one downpour and another ditzy, sweet-smelling rain shower about half an hour later. The bottoms of your feet were aching. You kicked off your wet shoes onto the welcome mat and proceeded straight to the fridge, pulling out the first drink you saw—an orange cream soda. Officially toasting to your first apartment with some fancy alcohol would come later, when you weren’t damp and hungry and ready to chew someone’s head off like a dog with a meaty bone.

Joshua then pushed open the door, carrying what you assumed was the last box. He walked over to the living area, pausing for a brief moment as he decided where amongst the brown sea of cardboard it should be placed. You watched him balance it atop another big box.

“Please tell me there’s no more,” you pouted, leaning all your weight against the island countertop, “I’m about to disassemble.”

“Disassemble?” Joshua laughed, toeing off his shoes beside yours on the mat, “are you a Polly Pocket or something?”

“Yes, I am. You’re in a relationship with a piece of plastic.”

“Hm, I can’t believe I’m just figuring this out now.”

He opened the fridge, peering around inside. There wasn’t much to look at apart from some bagged vegetables, cheese, a single carton of coffee creamer, and the orange soda cans. You had opted for takeout tonight, but Joshua insisted that he should cook something special—a little market area was just down the street, anyway. He ended up grabbing a soda can, cracking it open over the sink with a satisfying hiss.

“Well, we live here now,” Joshua said, rubbing his hand down the back of your jacket, “was it a pain in the ass? Yeah. But we have a home.”

You straightened out, peeling yourself off the counter. The terrace was most definitely going to be your favourite part come summertime. Joshua liked the floor-length windows for the sunlight.

“Do you think you can buy garlic bread? Or—no—focaccia? The rosemary kind like we had at that restaurant in the fall? Don’t you remember how good that was? We couldn’t even eat our dinner.”

Joshua grinned, his hand lingering at your lower back as he brought the soda can to his lips, “I remember that place. I’m pretty sure I could make the focaccia too. Probably not too hard… anything else?”

After taking a sip from your own drink, you raised a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anything else you want for dinner?”

You smiled at him, leaning back against his chest.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

Suddenly, Jennie had poked her head through the door, waving you over with a hand. You exchanged a quick kiss with Joshua and approached her, to which you were abruptly dragged outside into the corridor, yelping. Jennie reached into her pocket for a moment.

“What’s this all about?” You grumbled.

The girl then shoved a tiny pink and white box into your chest.

“Oh my god—Jennie, I’ve told you! I’m not pregnant!”

“Like you actually know!” She rebutted, folding her arms and moving her soaked feet about nervously. “From what you’ve been telling me, it seems at least likely. You need to try it. And tell me!”

Taking a few seconds to glance over the box, you could only upend a gigantic sigh. Sure, you had told Jennie that your period was running late (but that wasn’t particularly rare for you), and you also complained about urinating more than usual. Besides, you and Joshua were fairly careful. You couldn’t remember a time when you hadn’t swallowed a plan b pill the following morning. Massaging at your sore temple, you decided to just capitulate and shove the box in your pocket.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“All you gotta do is pee on a stick, babe.”

“I know what I have to do—” you gesticulated with a wildly flailing hand, puffing out an exhale, “I just think these changes or irregularities or whatever you want to call them are a coincidence.”

“Blah, blah, blah. Just take the test.”

“Obviously, I will.”

“Thank you,” Jennie said, patting your shoulder, “I just don’t want this to sneak up on you—in case it’s true! Note I said in case!”

“Yes, I did note that,” a smile managed to plant on your exhausted face, “I’ll try it, okay? Are you staying for dinner?”

“Nah,” the girl waved her hand dismissively, “I’ll let you two enjoy the first night here, alone. But I will be returning, and I will be expecting Joshua to cook me an entire meal like he’s doing for you.”

“Aw, Hansol still hasn’t found his way around a grill, huh?” You giggled, recalling the last time you visited them for supper and the boy had somehow charred everyone’s burgers into measly black pucks.

“His mind wanders,” Jennie sighed hopefully, “he’ll get there.”

“I believe that too.” You agreed while taking a step forward, wrapping your best friend and her crinkly raincoat into a hug. She returned the embrace. Both of you were practically leaning on the other for stability, clearly beaten from those heavy, clunky boxes and the number of steps you’d taken since lunch. You stayed like that for a minute, until there was a mutual choice to lug your weight off each other.

“Sleep in tomorrow!” Jennie sang as she continued waving goodbye from down the corridor. “Get him to make you breakfast, too!”

“Obviously!” You called back, smiling and admittedly a bit teary.

When you returned inside the apartment, Joshua had already pulled out some things from the boxes. All the paintings were leaned up against the wall while a few of the kitchen appliances had been organized onto the counter. Looking outside, you saw it was starting to brighten up between the clouds, the still drops on the windows glistering.

Joshua then collapsed onto the couch he’d cleared off.

“So, what was that all for? Gossiping about me?”

You huffed innocuously and plopped down beside him.

“Imagine a world where we have nothing better to do than gossip about you? Can you imagine it? No? Me either, sweetie.”

He pulled your hand away from shaking his jaw.

“You’re annoying—what was it?”

Digging a hand into your pocket, you touched the edge of the pregnancy test, though you hesitated before revealing it. The more you thought into the possibility, the more your heart started pounding with the idea that it could be true—maybe you really were pregnant. No, you had to swat the anxiously bubbling feelings away. Cross the bridge when you get there. Heaving a big breath, you flicked the test onto his lap.

Joshua merely stared at it, until he picked up the box and began reading the label. His mouth fell open in a stutter, but then it closed and he quirked an eyebrow at you because his words just weren’t conjuring.

“Um, yeah. Jennie thinks I might be pregnant. So… that’s something fun I can try tonight. Dinner and a pregnancy test.”

“Are you actua—I mean, d-do you think you are?”

Pressing your head back into the couch, your eyes drifted along the ceiling in search of some concrete answer that just wasn’t there.

“I… don’t know…” you finally said, looking to your boyfriend who was glancing at the test again, “I told you about my period being late, but that’s happened before. And I’m having to pee a lot more than usual—I get headaches now and then. I just—maybe I am!” You slid further down the couch, biting your lip. “How would you feel if it was positive?”

“How would I feel?” He echoed, leaning forward to set the test on the coffee table, his hands clasping and rubbing together. “Obviously I’d be fucking ecstatic, sweetheart. But, I mean, this is your body, and—”

“Really?” That caught you by surprise.

You sat up and pulled your knees to your chest, angling your body to face him properly. “This is something you want? Like, I know we’ve glossed the topic before and we both agree that, yes, this is in our future. But… you’re okay if it… happens now?”

Joshua scooted closer to you, fitting his palm perfectly against your cheek. His gaze poured so intimately into yours, and it felt like an invisible thread was connecting your stream of thoughts and emotions.

“If it happens now then I’ll be even more excited,” his dampened hair brushed your forehead as you softly pushed your lips together, fingers skimming through his hair, “we’ll start with dinner, and we’ll see what happens afterward, okay?” 

He kissed you again, pulling your body closer and firmer into his chest. “I love you.”

You nodded appreciatively, whispering, “I love you, too.”

Of course, you had no idea what was going to happen with the pregnancy test, and even if you could somehow see into the future, what was the point of spoiling things for yourself? What was the point of knowing the punches if you were better off getting hit, anyway? You just needed to be patient. You needed to take each second, minute, and half-hour at a time, because the universe always seemed to have a place for you, even when it felt like you were floating alone at the farthest perimeters of its arms. Joshua got up from the couch, grabbing his wallet off the coffee table and slipping back into his shoes. He was going to the market. At least the sun was starting to make its golden blips down onto the earth after all the rain, so he wouldn’t be walking underneath darkness.

Right, dinner first.

That was how this whole thing started, anyway.

✧✎ TAGLIST: @02psh / @ally-127 / @astersg4rden / @aunty-tiger-potato / @boowanie / @celestialpearls / @dokyeomblr / @gventaken / @hesbambi / @honglynights / @hyuckworld​ / @j4d​ / @joshuahongsfuturewife / @joshuas / @junhuilov3r / @kellyooo13 / @koishua / @lovelywoo / @quicksilverster / @rae-blogging / @sseastar-main / @ucantstopthefunk / @woozes​ / @wonwoonlight​

Could not be tagged: @lovelacejun / @manamiyx / @notscoupy / @soonchanshua 

✧✎ a/n: OKAY. I’M SO HAPPY THIS IS DONE. this fic wouldn’t have taken me so long if 2021/2022 hadn’t been as busy as they were!! again, i just want to fork out a massive apology for my inactivity! i hate producing so little writing but knowing ME and my undying urge to write questionably long fics, i somehow created a very counterproductive system LOL. 

anywho, i honestly loved every opportunity i had to work on this fic since it follows the reader as they grow up, and, coincidentally, i also grew a lot during the literal fucking year it took me to finish this. there are so many new scenes compared to the og version and i personally adored writing the side-arc between reader & jennie:_) and i tried to add some humourous stuff too since it got a little angsty at times!! i hope anyone who finishes this fic develops even the slightest bit of joy that i felt while writing it. THX SO MUCH! LUV U.

[sunnydayjackass]

Who?

It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair at all.

He could only piece together so much of what transpired, he knew what happened- how you were wronged, but some of the details, the amount of time between then to now, Jack only knew so much. You didn’t like to talk about it and he never blamed you, no- how could he? Never would he want to reopen a wound he was working so hard to heal. And he was doing anything and everything he could to make life easier, to make each day better than the last for you because that’s what best friends did. That’s what you did when you loved someone.

A concept Jack was convinced Ian was entirely unaware of yet the other man continued to take up real estate in your mind and occupy your thoughts with his incessant calling. It was constant, it was aggravating, didn’t he get the hint?? Jack wasn’t always proud of it but when you’d leave your phone unattended to grab snacks from the kitchen or change out of the uniform you hated so much, he’d ignore the call with a quick swipe over the red button on the touch screen and clear the notification. It was better that way- he told himself that. He’d seen the way your face would blanch or the slight furrow of your brow any time Ian’s name flashed across the lit screen. It was just better when he could give you some peace.

Jack was bent on being that peace for you and if it meant getting his hands a little dirty well…you’d understand. Wouldn’t you?

Today though…today at work, being called in on your day off right after Jack had gotten his first oh so real taste of you- Ian had to ruin that high further. Another call in the line of who knew how many but you’d mistakenly answered. Pleading and sniveling to attempt to reconcile, how badly Ian wanted to be with you after wronging you in such a way. To betray your trust, to wound your delicate heart, all was unforgivable as far as Jack was concerned. He could tell immediately upon seeing you that you were upset about it. That you’d been unprepared to take the call. The way your watery gaze lingered even when you tried to brush away at your cheeks and recompose yourself. You tried so hard to be strong, you were doing so well, Jack always made sure to praise you as often as he could for each step you were taking.

And he’d be damned if Ian was going to set that back. But hearing you say that you were moving on, even with that little stutter and crack in your voice- Jack knew the morning was still fresh in the forefront of your mind. The way you’d tugged on his shirt so meekly yet found the courage to slot your lips against his own, getting to trace his hands over the soft curves and dips of your body, the way your hips anchored down onto his own… Passing through the door, Jack inquires if you’re okay. You both know you’re not and Jack says as much with a little levity at the end to hopefully get a more positive reaction from you. And even though your eyes are still teary, that you manage to crack a little grin and chuckle; it’s enough for him. Anything from you is always enough. “…I want to hear your truths, they’re what make you…you. And I’m telling the truth when I say I’ll be here for you whether you’re okay or not.” From the highs to picking up the pieces, there is no place Jack would rather be than beside you. When he moves to touch you, to feel your warmth there’s a pause. The gears in your head are turning, what your thoughts are he can’t entirely be sure as you hold his hands in yours and put a tinge of space between you. It stings to have you pull away, to have these small forms of not quite rejection but hesitancy. It’s such a contrast from this morning he can’t help but place the blame solely on Ian- though he doesn’t voice this. No- instead he will prioritize your comfort, if he did something wrong or untoward. He just wants to help, sunshine. “I can help you. Just tell me what you want. What you need.” He hopes and prays every day that someday that question can be answered with you reaching out to him, for him. The mere thought has warmth bloom in his broad chest. Jack so badly wants to bridge that gap, to take that pain away from you, to pick back up where you’d been. You felt for him, he knew you did. Why else would you have made the first move? Jack hadn’t wanted to, despite the near constant urge to. He loved you and unless you felt the same, he didn’t want to ruin whatever relationship he could have with you. His lips part to say something else but the chime of the front door pulls both of your attention back from the bubble the pair of you find yourselves in. Following you back out while you give the greeting you loathe, it’s three men- one of which sneaks peeks at you, he's trying to be subtle that much Jack can tell but he’s also aware of the pink flush over his pale skin. There’s that little quirk of the same viscous feeling bubbling up as when Ian called. He shouldn’t be surprised, who wouldn’t find you wonderful? Who wouldn’t find you attractive? Despite all you’re going through, the hole you’re fighting to get yourself out of- Jack doesn’t feel you give yourself the credit you so deserve. As you do your job behind the counter, weighing and ringing up totals, Jack puts a warm hand at the small of your back innocuously. He feels you tense only for a second before relaxing against his touch that draws a warmer smile to his lips, rubbing small circles as the blushing boy from before dawdles his words before departing. It isn’t much longer until it’s time to close down shop, Jack puttering around behind you to keep you company as you do so and on the walk back home. Home, where he can see stress melt off your shoulders as you eagerly make way to your room to shuck off that uniform and into something comfy. Today’s choice is a well worn T-shirt sizes too big for you and loose fitting shorts with a drawstring that’s seemed to have been lost somewhere in the waistband. The shirt runs low and the shorts run high and ultimately between the nice view of your legs and the relaxed posture of your body as you flop onto the couch- Jack fluidly follows suit. Draping an arm over the back of the couch, with you tucked into his side again, Jack swallows and glances at you from the corner of his eye. “So…who’s Ian?” he prods gingerly, “You mentioned him before.” Good save, as he could see you give pause as though to rack your brain if you had or hadn’t. There’s a thoughtful look on his face as though he’s turning over the scraps of information he has himself. When Jack voices his concerns and you share your feelings, he wants nothing more than to make you forget about Ian. He voices his offer, smoothly that seems to make you shiver slightly against him. His arm shifts to instead rest around your shoulders, gloved hand massaging your shoulder soothingly. You raise your gaze to his and Jack slowly cranes his neck down his lips just a breath away. “Maybe it would be better if I did something about it…would you like that, Sunshine?” His voice is low, looking for your approval or your movement to rebuff him again. His breath fans over your lips and you tremble but push to meet his lips again with a soft mewl. Jack returns the kiss, lips working slowly over your own as his free hand rests on the plush flesh of your thigh and giving it an affectionate squeeze that has you pressing your thighs together. Maybe he can’t get rid of everything just yet, but for the moment…he can make you forget about Ian, he can touch you, love you, better than your cheating ex ever could. Jack’s tongue runs over the seal of your lips that you part obediently to let him taste you once again. Your hands clutch at him again, so eager and touch starved, your temperature feels like it’s spiking under his touch as his hand creeps upwards towards the flimsy cotton blend of your shorts. “Oh, Sunshine…” Jack pants softly resting his forehead against yours as he feels you squirm slightly on the couch. “…It’s been a long day…let me take care of you.” Jack croons against your skin as he lifts his hand from your thigh, pulling the glove away from his hand with his teeth. Your gaze is hungry as you watch him do so, feeling the throb between your legs and lower stomach. Jack shifts to cage you under him on the couch, you move that your legs are hitched comfortably at his hips, face flush in eager anticipation as his exposed hand pushes the oversized shirt up at your collar exposing your torso before dragging down to the waistband of the shorts. On instinct your hips lift for Jack who chuckles warmly meeting you for a kiss before dragging down your jaw line to your neck. Your breath hitches as his hand dips down the front of your shorts sneaking past the elastic of your underwear. A large finger swipes against your entrance, teasing at it gently as his lips press heated open mouthed kisses to the column of your throat. A need whimper that reverberates from you has Jack groaning hotly in your ear that has your hips bucking up into his hand needily. “I’ve got you…and you’ve got me.” He murmurs into your hair, his erection strains in his jeans but your pleasure is the priority- you are the priority. A thick digit begins to push inward, the first knuckle sinking into your depths that has your mouth parting in an absolutely sinful sound that has Jack’s teeth digging into his lower lip. “You feel so warm, Sunshine…so perfect.” He coos into your ear as he withdraws and pushes a few times, prepping you before sinking his finger in forward, curving up towards that gummy bundle of nerves that has you clenching around him. “So eager for me…just so good…” the praise drips from Jack’s lips like honey as your eyes glaze over in rapture before your lashes flutter shut to enjoy the euphoria. Your hands clutch the couch cushions so hard your knuckles turn white as Jack fingers you, slowly, oh so slowly to work you as you writhe against him eager to press your hips at his beckoning finer before a second digit sinks into your tight hole. You’re a mess from his fingers alone, Jack salivates at the idea of how you’ll feel stretched around his throbbing cock. Muffled words leave your lips that has Jack lift his head to take in your blissed out features, the way your cheeks are flushed a rosy hue up to your ears and down to your heaving chest. You’re just so fucking pretty like this. “…what was that, Sunspot?” Jack lilts softly, fingers stalling within you which in turn only pulls a sound of frustration from you as you peek up at him through your lashes. “…m-more…please Jack…” Your hands reach up to card through his brilliant blue locks and pull his face to yours in a searing kiss that has Jack reeling as his fingers resume their ministrations, your fingers pressing through his hair to lace around at the back of his neck to keep him close as you rock your hips in rhythm. To anchor him to you is such a beautiful thing, all Jack can focus on is you. Soft moans and mewls leave your lips as you gasp his name, hearing it from your mouth feels so right, it makes Jack feel so whole- he doesn’t know if you’ll ever know just how much he loves you but in this moment he’s willing to start showing a little more freely with the dam being broken. You feel pressure begin to build, the coil in your abdomen growing tight and hot within you as a third thick finger slides within you making you feel impossibly full. “Jack…’M gonna…” you whine looking at him with teary eyes as you scramble for words. Jack drops his head to your exposed chest, peppering it with sweet teasing kisses, heated tongue laving over your pert nipples before nipping at it teasingly causing your back to arch sharply. The warm haze settling around you with the slick sound of his fingers fucking you so lovingly paired with your wanton whimpers. He can feel you clenching around his fingers, slick drooling out of you and onto his hand, walls trying to suck his fingers in to continue pressing against those soft spots that make you see stars. “…I want to feel you cum…” He whispers against your skin between gentle love bites and kisses that trace back up to your mouth. You frantically paw for him to meet you in a sloppy kiss as fireworks explode between your eyelids with a muffled moan. Jack groans against your lips as he feels you climax, the spasms of your walls around his fingers that clench around him as he works you through your orgasm. Your breathing is ragged, lips kiss swollen and hair an endearing mess and matted to your forehead. Jack props himself up to watch you bask in your afterglow with all the love and adoration beaming- you feel like you’re under the warmth of the sun. “You did so well, Sunshine.” He murmurs fondly as he presses a delicate kiss to the crown of your head before removing his fingers from you eliciting a soft sound of protest from you now being empty. He sees your hazy gaze dart down to his erection and his gloved hand tilts your head to look him in the eyes. “Maybe another time…you’re exhausted. Let me clean you up and tuck you in, okay?” He can tell that you want to protest but know you don’t have the energy to go through with it- not with the day you’ve had. “I told you, I was going to take care of you.” He smiles softly, running his thumb over the plane of your cheekbone before fixing your clothing and gently coaxing your form into his arms. He loves how you nuzzle into his broad chest and sling your arms around his neck. Carrying you to the bedroom, you shuck out of your clothes that feel sweaty and sticky and extend your arms with that still blissed out look lingering lightly on your features. Once you’re perched safely on the bed rather than your weak leg, Jack slides off his jacket and shirt that slip over your head. Another sight he hopes to see more of and will never tire of. He disappears for a moment into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean you carefully before gathering it and your spent clothes into the hamper. Joining you in the plush mattress, Jack tugs the blankets up around the pair of you and you give a content sigh as you curl into him, sleep taking you quickly. For a while he lays there beside you, arm around you and other hand stroking your hair soothingly. Ian who?

[en-hale-archives]

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

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When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

————✧————

(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝘼𝙐𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

i wanted to use this picture so badly but I knew it would ruin the mood.

∘ request(s):

"ayo? they’re not sleeping with anyone else??? does that mean???? raw??? w edgy karl????????

"ooooo i’m lacking in edgy karl content😩 for the next one could you do one where maybe the reader is being a brat and karl puts them in their place? if that makes sense?"

"Ever since I read your edgy Karl x reader I been getting massive brainrot where reader is just questioning their relationship and Karl is just dismissive about it. It feels great to get that off my chest. 😭"

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, prostitution (sort of), drinking, Todd the frat boy, crude/suggestive language, degradation, asphyxiation, spitting, angst

∘ word count: ~5k

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ song recommendation: Come Here by Dominic Fike

a/n: y'all really drive this series oml. thank you to all your requests! should I do song recs on these or is that dumb? happy reading :)

♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

You adjusted your dress, attempting to not look as unkempt as you felt. Your hair had luckily survived the bus ride to Karl’s, yet your clothing was wrinkled from being smashed against various girls with the same destination in mind. You scoffed to yourself as you leaned against the side of the house, tugging your heel into a more comfortable position as one of the women in the group knocked on the large door.

It felt like there was always some random party blaring out of the windows, so you were surprised to be mixed into an excited group of girls waiting to be invited in by one of the Brothers. The only time when you’d been over to visit Karl and there wasn’t some kind of celebration of a random event was directly before spring break.

A nameless member dressed in a tux answered the door and you bit back a laugh as he welcomed everyone into the foyer. As you scanned the crowd for Karl, you noticed the number of older people lounging about in formal attire. You furrowed your brows slightly, knowing that Todd was probably behind whatever cultist bullshit was about to happen.

You wracked your brain trying to remember if Karl had mentioned anything about the importance tonight, but knowing the two of you, he’d probably begun to tell you only for him to get distracted.

A familiar laugh drew your attention to one corner of the living room where a man who looked dangerously like Karl playfully shrugged out of the grasp of another frat member. His nails were bare and he lacked any piercings, his hair even tamed so it fell just right over his forehead. You couldn’t deny the way your mind ran absolutely feral at the view of him, as if you’d stepped into some strange alternate universe where Karl was actually Carl.

As someone else struck up the conversation in his group, he turned to look over the crowd, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. His eyes brightened as he spotted you in the mix of the group. Whoever had let you into the house handed you and the rest of the people a brochure, something you then realized most of the room was holding.

You snorted slightly as you read, “46th ANNUAL MEMBER AUCTION,” printed boldly across the front page in elegant script. Your stomach twisted slightly at the discovery. You flipped open the pamphlet, seeing a list of numbers and the names of corresponding Brothers.

Karl was 23.

“I didn’t even sign up, honestly,” a voice called in your ear as Karl leaned over your shoulder, peering at the page in your hands. His cologne was more expensive than he usually wore, made obvious by the way it complemented his natural scent with a fuller smell.

You turned slightly, nearly leaning into his warm breath above you as you moved to look at him. “Come on, let them pimp you out,” you joked, your finger underlining one of the details on the back. “It’s for the frat Karl,” you mocked, making him roll his eyes playfully. “You look awfully pretty to not have signed up,” you chided, a small amount of jealousy tugging in your chest.

He ran his tongue across his teeth, his eyes dancing with mischief as he looked down at you. “Do you want me to?”

You shrugged. “You know how loyal I am to this frat. I think it’s only right,” you continued to josh, eliciting a low chuckle from him. The smell of his whiskey hung beautifully on him. You’d be damned not to acknowledge what a catch he was.

He pulled his hand from his pocket and settled it on the small of your back, the two of you mumbling to each other as you headed towards the kitchen so he could pour you a drink. As he explained the process of the auction, your nerves started to change drastically. Luckily, your exterior kept this from Karl because you weren’t even sure yourself why you could be feeling so strongly about the event. “... Really, only the married guys get out of it without being heckled all night. It’s… I don’t know. It’s pretty lame.”

“So basically, it’s an event where the guys objectify themselves in the name of the frat." You jested, your eyes glued on his pinky ring, the only symbol of the Karl you knew. "Have you done this before?”

Karl shook his head. “I wasn’t old enough, thank God.” He leaned against the counter beside you, his back to the circulating groups of people so he was only looking at you. As he slouched, he matched your height.

You reached forward, taking the unbuttoned collar of his white shirt between your finger pads. “I’m trying to decide if I’m scared or aroused by this version of you,” you tittered, wanting so badly to feel his teeth against your skin. He smirked at you. “It’s like Wonderbread you. Like you’d have to sign a contract with me before you gave me a hug,” you teased further, making the smug look on his face twist into a laugh.

He leaned closer to you, his hand brushing to lay against the curve of your hip. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can still rip you in half.”

You took a sip of the Brandy in your glass to hide the moan wanting to rip through your throat at the closeness of him. His lips brushed against your skin before pressing a kiss behind your ear subtly. You nudged him away from you reluctantly as Todd strolled into the kitchen, arms raised slightly as if he’d been searching the high heavens for Karl.

He moved to stand between the two of you, reaching for a decanter of a liquid you couldn’t place. Karl crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Karl, I have been looking everywhere for you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pin with Karl’s number on it and nudging it towards him on the counter. “You know, it’s kind of fun that partners can’t bid because-” he paused before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his side. You let out a laugh, resting your hand against his chest as Karl’s eyes darkened at the two of you. “-Your lovebug can have me tonight then, huh?” He mocked, smirking.

“Well, technically, I’m not his partner…” you added, pretending to touch Todd flirtatiously.

Todd’s arms pulled you closer. “You know what I mean, Princess.” You snickered, pushing him off of you as he moved to lean against the sink behind you. “Come on, Karl. I’m practically handing you the opportunity to hook up with MILFs, random TAs, and sorority girls,” he begged, making Karl pinch the bridge of his nose.

“That does sound intriguing,” you chimed, making Karl giggle mildly.

Todd’s eyes lit up with a sarcasticness as if you were actually promoting the idea. “You can go instead if you want to, babygirl,” he offered, tilting his head in an action to resemble a car salesman.

You looked to Karl with raised eyebrows and he shook his head in disbelief at the stupidity of whatever banter you and Todd were striking up. “That would be fun! Please, illegally pimp me out instead. I want to be solicited-”

Todd’s hand reached out to clamp over your mouth. “Okay stop.” He straightened his tie and the pin on his lapel in the shape of a number 12. You quietly wondered who were in the top places and what they were doing to be in those spots. “Karl, you’re a legacy dick. Most of those women out there probably hooked up with your family members and are back for more of that sweet sweet Jacobs-”

Karl cut him off gruffly. “-I’ll do it if you don’t finish that sentence and never bring that to my attention again.” Todd pretended to zip his lips before pointing to the pin and walking off. You took the pin in your hands, trying to ignore the shakiness of your fingers as you pinned it onto his jacket. “You know his name is actually Mark, right? He pretended to be a Romney for his first two years here.”

You snorted. “Don’t feed me that information right now.” You wet your lips, feeling his eyes on you as you brushed your hands down his lapels. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to… I was just joking.” You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Like, we can leave if you want,” you offered softly.

Karl chuckled, moving his hands up to rest over yours. “Someone’ll pay fifty bucks to take me to some dodgy hotel for ten minutes. It’ll be okay,” he assured. “Maybe I'll have fun, who knows.” He drew you closer once again. You swore you could get drunk off the intoxicating allure of his breath. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly worried about having that conversation with him. “If you’re okay with it, I am,” you answered quietly, sending him a small shrug.

He popped a piece of gum in his mouth, shrugging back at you.

Everyone began to gather around the grand piano in one corner of the living room. You could suddenly feel the heat of the massive fireplace against your bare legs as Karl rested an arm against the wall above you, leaning over you slightly. “How much would you bid on me, if you could?” He whispered as Todd explained some rules to the bidders.

You looked up at him reaching up to play with his lot number. You hummed slightly in mock thought. “Maybe a packet of ramen, a Speedway rewards card, and…” you trailed off before digging into your purse and grabbing a handful of quarters, “five dollars in linty coins?” You joked, sending him an innocent smile.

He bit back a laugh. “I feel like you’re the only one that knows my true value,” he quipped sarcastically.

As the auction began to kick off, men were being bought for various currencies, from picnics in the park to gala dates and etcetera. The tension in your shoulders began to cool as there were fewer ambiguous payments. The women and men that paid sums of money were the ones that worried you the most. Karl’s hand slithered up your back until he reached the back of your neck, pressing his fingers into your skin almost possessively.

You focused on the crowd, trying to notice any peering eyes cutting into Karl, but no one seemed to have the slightest clue. Karl’s fingers worked at a knot in your neck, making you want to moan at his touch. You hated being this close to him and unable to mark him as your own. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to the skin on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by your dress. “Relax,” he whispered, heat raking through your body at the sound of his voice.

Finally, his number came up. Before the auctioneer could finish introducing him, a handful of sorority girls sparked up with heavy numbers in the air. Your eyes widened and you could feel Karl stiffen behind you at their urgency. As their bids began to grow and add zeros, your heart began to beat in your ears.

“$5000.” Your mouth grew dry as the number halted the noise in the room. Bewilderedly, you searched the room until your eyes landed on a woman in her early-50s. You couldn’t help your mouth slightly fall open. “I’d like to bid $5000,” she repeated. You downed the rest of your Brandy, letting the alcohol sting your throat and warm your stomach. As Karl’s turn closed, your mind went blank. What did I expect to happen? You scorned.

After about an hour, the bidding was over. You plastered on a smile after everyone exited the room, standing before Karl and spending the time you had left letting your mind race with emotion. “What’s wrong?” Karl asked, nudging your arm with his elbow.

You swatted him off. “You excited to spend time with your new mommy?” You chided, making him raise his eyebrows. Your voice came out a bit more condescending than you’d intended.

Something dark flitted across his expression. “Definitely.” He pressed closer to your ear again. “I bet she cums on the slow stroke,” he leered, making you inch away from him. He giggled slightly at his own joke, before noticing your quietness. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, unable to explain just how you were feeling about the situation. It was as if reality had seeped into your bones at what had happened.

Karl ran his fingers against his bottom lip as he looked at you, the skin flushing a deeper red. You’d seen the color too many times to count, but it was usually due to stimulation from you. “Don’t be like that. What’s going on?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms softly. This seemed to only further allure him. “If you’re gonna act like a brat, I’ll start treating you like a brat,” he whispered, perking your attention. You let your eyes wander back to the ground. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. His calm expression added arousal to your swimming cauldron of feelings.

You pulled out of his grasp. You bit your tongue, grasping at your thoughts and searching for what you wanted to tell him. His grey irises swirled with some kind of worry and what you could only describe as fondness. Instead, you chickened out. “Just use protection, okay?” You faltered.

His features remained quiet as if in thought. In one swift movement, his hand brushed against your jaw, pressing his lips against yours. Your whole body relaxed into his touch, your eyes closing to relish in the feeling of silent loyalty to you. As his tongue brushed against your lips, it was as if he was stating just what you meant to him. If you weren’t in the right mind, you’d moan a gracious pledge of your mutual devotion into his mouth.

He pulled away shortly, leaving you flushed and winded as he reached his thumb up to swipe away the smearing of your lipstick. “I’m in your fuckin’ pocket, remember?” He acquiesced almost emotionlessly, before dropping his hands and letting you stumble. You had to will your body not to grin at what he’d said as the woman who bid on him approached the two of you.

She shook hands with both of you talking about the thrill of the event and how she’s gone for the last couple of years. “Ma’am, he’s a virgin. Please be careful,” you noted as Karl helped her into her coat. Karl’s eyes shot daggers into you, biting back a laugh of his.

The woman giggled with her whole chest. “Oh, darling. That won’t be an issue,” she gasped as she caught her breath. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your smile as you made eye contact with an ill-looking Karl.

You opted to head back to your apartment, eyeing the clock each time you get an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your roommate had gone out for the night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts. As two hours passed, you were beginning to feel phantom notifications from your phone, your heart skipping with faltering hope.

As if your prayers had finally been answered, a brief knock at your door sent you jumping over the back of the couch and tugging on a hoodie before you threw open the door. Karl stood leaning against the frame and cracking his knuckles. He eyed you curiously as he noticed your urgency. His shirt was barely buttoned and untucked, hair ruffled and curling here and there. As you let him into your apartment, your mouth grew dry with anticipation. Karl slumped onto your couch, kicking his feet up on your coffee table and raising an eyebrow at you.

You wet your lips, sitting on the arm of a chair near his side of the couch. “How was it?” You asked. “Did you learn anything?”

He scoffed, humor dancing behind his eyes. “You will never guess where I was.” You furrowed your brows at him as if it wasn’t obvious. To this he shook his head, sitting up to lean his elbows on his knees, reaching forward to pull you into the empty spot beside him. “So, that woman owns an art studio downtown and she holds classes for whoever. The nail polish girl in my art class is like the right-hand man to that woman and she caught wind of the auction,” he paused to loosen a few more of his buttons. “The woman has always gone to the auction, but the girl knew I was participating this year and recommended me.”

“Okay, so… You were in an art class all night?” You probed, making him grin smugly at you.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Not exactly.”

You snorted, leaning into the cushions and turning towards him. “They weren’t drawing you nude were they?” You joked sarcastically, the mental image proving to be almost unthinkable. His eyes shifted to his lap as he chuckled and you punched his arm. “You’re kidding!”

He shook his head, biting back a grin. “I had old dudes staring at my dick for two hours straight and trying to recreate it in charcoal.” You covered your mouth with your hand, waiting for him to reveal that he was joking. “They liked my cheekbones,” he taunted.

You huffed in disbelief. “Oh my fucking God.” Your mind was utterly blank. “So, you didn’t sleep with anyone?”

He smiled at you. “Nope. You’re still my only one.” Your cheeks flushed at this. “That being said, you were so incredibly immature earlier,” he chided, making your eyebrow perk with discontent.

“Excuse me,” you nearly hissed.

His eyes navigated your body. “Jealous little brat, honestly,” he scoffed. “Make it up to me.” You stared at him blankly, as if unable to comprehend his words. He moved his arms to rest on the back of the couch, letting his legs spread a bit further. You watched him intently as his jaw tensed, looking slightly intimidating as he eyed you. His calm expression started you, gears turning behind his eyes. “Did I stutter?” He nipped.

You climbed onto his lap, letting his hands slip beneath your hoodie as he gripped your hips, pulling you down to grind against his leg. Heat spread across your body at the friction, realizing now just how needy you’d been for most of the night. Funny how you didn’t even think of taking care of yourself without Karl there.

He tugged your collar to the side, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, his warm breath a stark contrast to the cool temperature of the room. You felt his teeth glide over the valleys of your collarbones as if threatening to mark you as the brat you were. His brat.

His fingers dug into your skin, his knee bouncing slightly as he pushed you to increase your speed. You moaned against his shoulder, reaching the hand that wasn’t planted securely on his arm towards his belt. The clasp was almost second nature for you, considering the various places and positions you’d been in and wrestling with it.

As you slipped your hand into his pants, he groaned, bucking against your touch as if he'd been hungry for you all night. He rested his hand in the crook of your neck, roughly bringing your lips to his own. Instead of kissing you immediately, his lips brushed against yours, the smell of his breath dancing against your skin and forcing you to want him more as your hips moved to make up for the lack of his taste on your tongue.

Your hand gripped him through his boxers, earning a muffled grunt of pleasure from Karl. His eyes threatened to roll as you began to palm him, his breathing deep and needy. Curses hissed through his teeth, the sound further adding to how turned on you were. "Give me your mouth," he moaned, a demand you were more than happy to fulfill as you slipped onto your knees in front of him. Karl's hand gathered your hair as you tugged his boxers down. Your fingers traced the hem of his dress pants that ran against the inside of his thigh before attending to his arousal once again.

Then something clicked into your mind. "I've been thinking about what Todd said," you began, Karl's reaction dulling as you began to pump your hand around his dick. "About me sleeping with him," you continued, your voice dripping with a venomous innocence.

Karl twitched in your hand, his grip on your hair tightening. You moaned slightly as his eyes hardened. "Tread lightly, pet," he nearly growled. The gruffness of his voice sending goosebumps down your back. "You're on thin fucking ice already."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, crowding his lap. "I wonder if he's bigger than you," you commented.

You seemed to find the last straw rather quickly as Karl grabbed your arms, pulling you up and throwing you on the couch beneath him. "Fucking bitch," he snapped, ripping your underpants down your legs. "And here I was about to make this about you," he chuckled darkly, leaning on his knee to slip his jacket off his shoulders and discard his button-up shirt.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you towards him before he ground his hips against yours roughly, clashing his lips against yours. He tugged on your hair tightly, tongue pressing into your mouth.

His lips left yours, pulling your hoodie over your head and throwing it across the room before digging his teeth into your chest. You moaned at his efforts, basking in the roughness of his actions. Karl pushed himself into you without warning, and without hesitation, he began to snap his hips into yours. Your thighs tightened around his waist, attempting to adjust to his speed before he hooked one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, pushing it towards your chest.

His hand moved to wrap around your neck possessively, his eyes burning into yours with a mix of lust and glimmers of the sadistic side of him that loved to see you tremble beneath his touch as he restricted your breathing, only for you to gasp for air when he allowed. "Fucking brat," he barked, pounding into you faster. "Bring him up again and I'll make your life miserable," he groaned, spitting into your mouth to illustrate his point.

You let him take his anger out on you as you fought not to grin at the pure sparks of pleasure pulsing through your veins at the view of him completely dominating you. Your eyes fluttered shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in an attempt not to cum from the intense stimulation, your fingers digging into the softness of the couch beneath you as you searched for something to anchor yourself.

Karl leaned back slightly, dragging a hand through his hair as he slowed his hips, his eyes glued to yours, the new angle driving him deeper into you. The view of him above you like this oddly reminded you of when the two of you went to parties and spent the night grinding against each other in the massive crowds of your peers to an unidentifiable song.

Any idiot could tell Karl could fuck by the way he danced.

Karl pressed his hips firmly against yours, bucking into you relentlessly once again, pulling your hands above your head and holding your wrists in his fist. He kissed you harshly once again, swallowing your attempts to catch your breath and dragging his teeth across your lips again.

You felt unable to control your orgasm as it raced through you, your moans echoing into Karl's mouth as your body tensed. Karl used your orgasm to ride out the rest of his own pleasure, smirking slightly at your disheveled appearance.

As the air settled, the two of you straighten up the living room, making sure to find each article of clothing so your roommate wouldn't comment. Karl sat back down on the couch, reaching an arm out for you. You raised an eyebrow at him hesitantly, with a small smirk playing on your lips.

He huffed jokingly. "Come on, I can't fuck your brains out and not hug you at least for a bit," he joshed, gesturing for you to join him.

You let out a small laugh. The man with multiple piercings, tattoos, and a glare that can insight nightmares, was always the first to ask to cuddle. You tucked into the spot beneath his arm, letting his grasp tighten around you as you wrapped a blanket around the both of you.

His heartbeat thumped against your ear, making you want to slip into a deep sleep. "I think we should set Todd up with Nail Polish Girl," you joked, breaking into the comfortable silence between the two of you. You glanced up at Karl as you said this, hoping to gauge his reaction as you silently apologized for what you'd said earlier in the name of getting him riled up.

He chuckled shortly. "We should probably straighten ourselves out before we meddle in other people's relationships," he mocked. It'd come out as a light-hearted statement, but it tugged heavily at your nerves.

You pushed yourself to sit up and look at him, suddenly anxious. "What do you mean? We're fine, right?"

Karl smirked. "Well yeah, but sooner or later we're going to have to figure out what we're doing." He wet his lips. "I mean, how much longer are we supposed to just mindlessly hook up."

"We're not mindlessly hooking up. We're friends too," you reasoned, your voice uneven as you attempted to inject humor in your statements, hoping to mask your hesitation.

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah, but don't you want more? Like who do you say I am when your friends ask?" He raised his eyebrows, shortly waiting for a response before continuing. "A booty call, right? Am I supposed to be a booty call forever?"

You were taken aback slightly. His tone wasn't provocative, but that didn't stop your heart from racing. "What are you saying?"

He shrugged. "What does it sound like I'm saying?" He sat up a bit more to angle towards you. "I don't mean now, but eventually I'd like this to mean a bit more."

You stood up from the couch, nearly tripping over the coffee table as you reached for a pair of discarded sweatpants and slipped them on. "This is a lot to think about," you mumbled, unable to make eye contact with him. Your mind raced with the different outcomes of what he was talking about. Also, all of them involved the two of you going stale and him finding comfort in other people. "I mean… what we have now is good. Isn't it?"

Karl stood too, raising his hands slightly as if he were consoling a cornered animal. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I thought we were on the same page?" You rubbed the back of your neck nervously, looking for words. "I- uh. I'm sorry." His hands fisted at his sides awkwardly, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Sirens wailed from outside your windows, the street becoming the only noise in your apartment as he awaited your next move. "I'm actually… gonna head out. I'll uh… I'll text you later," he stated, grabbing his jacket, gauging your reaction.

Your tongue felt like sandpaper as you chewed the inside of your cheek. "No, uh… I think I need some time…" you trailed, your eyes flashing to his. "... To think…"

He nodded slightly, taking one last look at you before slipping out your front door, the lock clicking shut behind him.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu

[leetotters]

Hi! Can I ask for a long sugardaddy mob Tom fic? You’re first like blurb kinda did it for me ☺️☺️

mobsugardaddy!tom holland x reader

warning: daddy kink(he's a sugardaddy here lmao), curse words, oral (male recieving)

summary: basically request just short😔

"Don't you fucking come near her again" Tom spat on the man's bloody face colliding his fist to his swollen eye one last time, he gripped the man's jaw making him let out a groan at the mob boss firm hold. "Don't go touching things that don't belong to you" Tom gritted through clenched teeth as the image of the man in front of him attempting to grope your ass played in his mind once more. Tom roughly drew his hand back, pushing the man's face to the mucky floor, he instructed his right hand man Harrison to finish up for him, knowing you would be fretting why he was taking so long.

Tom exited the back door of the pub, pulling out a handkerchief from his suite wiping the blood from his fists and knuckle, mumbling profanity words when he noticed his knuckles were bruised red. Tom made his way to his car, where he was met with the sight of you laid back in the car seat scrolling through your phone, your dress hiked up displaying your red thong that was surely doing a poor job covering your cunt.

Tom opened his door, sliding in his seat as he pulled his seatbelt over his chest, pressing the start button. "Hey babydoll, sorry for taking so long daddy had.. some business to deal with" Tom knew better than to tell you what he was doing, he knew you didn't mind his choice of work but he was smart enough not to get you involved.

You nodded your head acknowledging Tom, you kept your eyes on your phone screen skimming through dresses and jewelry you wanted Tom to purchase for you. "Ohh look at this Daddy" you gasped at the ivory satin dress with corseted details that exposed a fair amount of cleavage to Tom, he only smiled at you resting his hand on your thigh pecking your plump lips, "Looks lovely doll, you should add it to your cart" You beamed saying a soft thank you as he clicked the plus icon.

"So where are we going now" You inquired setting your phone on your lap, pulling Tom's hand from your thigh interlocking your fingers together, twisting the silver rings that adorned his fingers. "I was thinking that Italian restaurant you wanted to try" Tom answered pulling your hand to the steering wheel as he circled around the road.

"Yes let's go there, the menu is a bit pricey though" You stated earning a hearty laugh from Tom, "M'sure I can manage the bill darling" you rolled your eyes at his cheeky response but broke out grinning knowing he wouldn't give a damn about the cost.

After your extravagant dinner you went home your stomach full with the delicious full course dinner and your favorite dessert. "Tommy I think you're trying to get me fat" you whined poking your belly, pouting at Tom, he looked at you shaking his head placing his hand on your stomach giving it a gentle pat. "Course not doll", he pecked your lips focusing his eyes on the road as the light turned green.

When you arrived at Tom's mansion you got out of the car, handing your coat to the maid as Tom did the same telling her to expect Harrison to stop in later to collect some important documents, you made your way to Tom's room which was practically yours since he insisted that you had your own personal closet, the reason being you spent most of your nights here instead at the luxurious apartment he bought you.

"Doll I have to finish up some work so don't wait for me" Tom spoke walking up to his bed undressing himself leaving him in his button up shirt and his boxers. "No Tom it's a Friday night" you whined out like a child, wrapping your arms around his torso resting your head on his clothed back, your fingers fiddling with his pendant.

Tom turned around latching his lips to your pouty ones, "As much as I want to spend my night with you doll, I have some stuff to get finish up" You huffed pulling your lips from his as he tried to deepen the kiss as if he was going to finish what he started. "Well go ahead, m'not stopping you" You went to the bathroom taking your dress off leaving you with your thong and bra on, you thought Tom already left to go to his office so you began wiping your makeup off.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror making sure you got all your makeup off, exiting the bathroom ready to dress yourself for a lonely night with Netflix. Before you could bend to pick up Tom's trousers from the ground you were hoisted up in the air, your legs instantly wrapping around the middle of person as you let out a loud scream. "Sh doll" Tom quieted you, his hand holding the back of your thigh while his other stretched the fabric of your thong letting it go to slap against your skin making you yelp at slight sting.

"What the fuck Tom" you jeered pretty sure he should be in his office doing his work or killing a man for all you knew. "What doll did you not want to spend the night with daddy" he smirked seeing you attempting to clench your thighs together, he knew how much you loved the daddy title.

"Put me down Tom" You uttered trying to come down from Tom's sturdy hold. "What did I tell you about calling me doll" Tom quipped through gritted teeth not liking your tone and name you just used, giving you the chance to correct yourself, his free hand unclasping the hooks of your bra revealing your perky breasts.

You gulped answering him like the good girl you are for him, knowing tomorrow he was suppose to take you out for your daily shopping spree because of your good behavior. "Sorry Daddy" you mumbled eyes trained on Tom's shirt not daring to meet his gaze.

"Much better" Tom rest you down on the floor patting your ass as a little approval, you smiled up at him happy that he wasn't using his mean tone and you probably still had the chance to buy latest Chanel handbag you saw earlier. "Since you behaved bratty today why don't you show daddy how sorry you are" Tom spoke his hands tweaking your hardened nipple.

"Yes daddy, I really am sorry" you sunk to your knees, internally cheering that your grumpy self got him to give you his cock, you pulled his boxers down his legs, your finger tracing over the cross tattoo on his ankle. Tom's cock stood high and proud slapping his stomach breaking free from it's prison, you grasped his length your hand pumping his brick hard cock, vaguely dipping your tongue on his tip tasting his moreish precum.

"C'mon doll better start sucking or else I'll not buy that cute little handbag you so badly wanted" Tom lifted your hair pushing his cock in your mouth making you gag, but wasted no time suckling his length, your hands playing with his balls as Tom kept his hand in your hair pushing you deeper so you were now deepthroating him. "Just like that babydoll" he groaned thrusting forward inches away from his end.

You looked up at Tom through your lashes, your eyes glossy blurring your vision of his beautiful face as he came in your mouth, his hold of your head tightening eager to come all over the tip of your tongue, that was more than gladly to collect his come. "Yes doll swallow Daddy's come" He ordered, you didn't need to be told twice immediately swallowing the warm liquid.

"Open up babydoll" You opened your mouth showing him you swallowed just like he asked you to. "Good girl" he praised softly patting your cheek prompting you to close your mouth, Tom pulled his boxers up his legs tucking his now wormy looking cock in.

You were about to speak but was cut off by the ringing of Tom's phone which made you roll your eyes but you stayed quiet knowing better than to upset him. Tom answered his phone giving you his winsome smile before entering the bathroom to continue his call.

You changed slipping in to your satin ruffled two piece pajama set waiting for Tom to come cuddle, you clicked on Netflix playing Gilmore Girls once again even though you finished the series. You laughed at one of Lorelai jokes twisting the rose gold tiffany and co bracelet Tom bought for you a while back at the first three months in your 'arrangement'.

Tom exited the bathroom his smile long gone and replaced with a miffed expression throwing his phone carelessly on his dresser running his hand through his curls. "What happened To- Daddy" you asked softly not sure if he would want to reply to you or not. "Nothing doll just someone fucked up again" He groaned slamming his fists against the wall letting out an annoyed huffed.

You jerked up at the sound, standing from your spot on the bed making your way to him, gently pulling him in a hug kissing his forehead, his whole mood changing embracing you in his muscular arms pecking your nose snuggling closer. "What happened" you asked a few minutes after.

"Just this new guy fucked up, lost me thousands of dollars too, big dumbass" Tom scowled pulling away grabbing his coat from the leather chair, clasping his Rolex on his wrists, combing his locks. "I have to go see about this babydoll" Tom kissed your lips, "But tomorrow I'm yours for the entire day, me and my credit card" He laughed seeing the way your eyes widened at his last words.

"Yes okay daddy don't be long" You pecked him waving him out the bed room door, jumping on the king sized bed pulling out your phone scrolling through yet another site.

[spenciegoob]

A Short Film

A/N: hey hey hey... mid writing this I realized how much I jumped the gun and thought this was a good concept, but now that I’m thinking too hard about it, maybe it’s not. I also wrote too much of it to back down now, so hopefully someone out there enjoys this as much as I did in my head lol.

Summary: Spencer steps way out of his comfort zone to ask his film major girlfriend a question.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: nothing really...  Spencer hardcore struggling with technology

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

___

“Hey Garcia, do you think you could help with something?” Spencer asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and not looking up from the floor of her office.

“Of course, Boy Wonder? What can I do for you?” Garcia answered while excitedly turning her chair back to her wall of screens.

Spencer grabbed the extra chair in her office and mumbled, “Actually um,” causing Garcia to completely abandon her position and fully face the genius.

“Spencer, are you okay? Is something wrong?” Spencer couldn’t blame her for asking. He was sweating more than usual, his face was bright red and he hadn’t stop fiddling with his hands since he shut the door.

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just, uh, I don’t really know how to ask this,” Spencer stumbled back. It was the truth after all. No life experience had prepared him for such a request, one that in the grand scheme of things was not a lot, but to Spencer.

To Spencer, it was everything.

“That’s okay. Take your time,” Penelope stated back, and coming from anyone else, Spencer would have believed it was sarcastic in nature. But he also knew that Penelope was one of the only people he could never find judgement or maliciousness from.

You were the other.

“So Y/N and I as you’re probably aware have been together for 2 years now, and you also know that she just got her degree in cinematography and design, which is really funny if you think about it because I know nothing about any of that, but she knows everything. You know, sometimes she’ll explain to me what she sees through her eyes and it’s nothing like what I’ve ever been able to. I’m rambling now but I want to do that,” Spencer spurted out, and once he was done, he took a breath so deep Penelope whole-heartedly believed if he spent one more second talking, he may pass out.

“Woah there, slow down. First of all, that’s adorable. I love Y/N so much. Second of all, how exactly am I supposed to help you see things that way? Shouldn’t she be more help?” Penelope questioned, now completely confused about Spencer’s intentions with this very early morning visit.

“She can’t exactly know. It’s kind of a surprise thing,” Spencer answered shyly. He hadn’t even gotten to the punchline and yet, he was contemplating every move.

Was this a good idea?

But when he saw the way Penelope lit up before she yelled, “Tell me everything, and spare no details. None!” He knew he would stop at nothing to make this perfect.

“So here’s what I was thinking.”

That was 1 year ago today, and since then, Spencer has tried to figure out what to say when he revealed his big project. He stood in front of the mirror every day for 365 days trying to find the perfect way to put it. Still when you sat on your shared couch gazing up at him in amusement, confusion and adoration all at once, his mouth was dry and his throat clamped up.

“Spence, you’re starting to scare me. Are you okay?” You asked, watching as your boyfriend stared at you like a deer caught in headlights with a laptop and assorted cords in his hands.

“Uh, yes! Yes I am okay. I just need to um, this needs to go. You know what? I wasn’t told how to do this part, can you help me?” Spencer paced back and forth between you and the TV four times while he was talking before he stopped defeated in front of you. He wouldn’t have asked for help unless he was certain Penelope was smart enough to insert a black screen in the beginning of what caused the laptop to burn a hole in his hand.

“Yes, of course,” you said, slightly chuckling at his confusion. Spencer Reid and technology, whilst tragic, was also very adorable. “What are you trying to do?”

“I need the video on the laptop to play on the TV,” he stated simply. At least he knew what he wanted. That was a new, first step in the right direction.

“Okay easy. Just hand me that cord, and,” you drew out the ‘and’ as you bent around the TV and plugged in the cord. “Perfect. Now just plug this end into the laptop and hit play.” You handed Spencer back his end of the cord, watching as he examined the object and the side of the computer to know where exactly to put it. It almost felt like watching a toddler try and find the rightly shaped hole for the triangle piece, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t endearing.

Before he could break anything, you stepped in. “I know you’d be able to figure it out, but it’s that one.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled back sheepishly. 

“Okay so a little back story. A year ago today, I asked Penelope to teach me how to record videos on my new phone. Thank you for that by the way, the camera on it is really cool, and I’m not just saying that because it’s one of the only things I know how to work. Anyways, I started secretly recording videos of you, of us, anything that reminded me of you, and me talking about you. So I sent them over to Garcia and she pushed them all together, and I think what I’m trying to say is I made a short film? Home video? It doesn’t really matter, but I’m showing it to you now.” Spencer didn’t acknowledge the shocked look on your face as he settled next to you and put the laptop on the coffee table.

But as you watched him find the video and set up, your jaw stayed slack. Spencer Reid, the world’s biggest technophobe, figured out how to use an iPhone camera just for you. While to others it may not seem like a lot, to you. 

To you, it was everything.

“Spence, I don’t even know what to say. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” It didn’t feel like enough. The amount of awe, and love that filled your chest was so comforting, so warm.

It felt like home. It felt like Spencer.

“You don’t have to say anything, just watch,” he stated before hitting the spacebar, something he’s seen you do plenty of times.

The video started out with Spencer crouching down slightly to where the phone was set up against a bookcase in front of the couch.

“Is it recording?” He whispered, and when he realized it was, he took a step back and gave a thumbs up before rushing to sit on the couch. You couldn’t help but let a full smile stretch across your face, an involuntary act when it came to Spencer.

“Hey, love bug. It’s Spencer, but wait you knew that because you can see me.” There was a small pause as Spencer squinted to see if you could actually see him from his position on the couch. When he realized he was in frame, he continued. “This is totally weird that I’m technically talking to myself right now, but I hope future me gave you an explanation. I tried to wait for a good time to start recording this, and in the two weeks I’ve known how to work that thing,” Spencer said as he pointed to the camera. “We’ve been on a case. I came home tonight, and you’re sleeping right now, but if I stay quiet enough I can say what I need to.”

You looked over at Spencer as he was twiddling with his fingers. Something he only did when he was nervous. You reached over and grabbed one of his hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but when you tried to pull away so as to not truly disturb his fidgeting, he caught it. So, you intertwined your fingers together, and continued to watch past Spencer.

“I came home today, and all I wanted to do was hold you. Granted, that’s every day, but today was just, it was really hard. When I came home you were asleep on the couch. One time you told me you didn't like to sleep in our bed while I was away, something about it being too big. At first, I was mad because your poor back, but today I changed my mind because the amount of steps to get to you was much less.”

Spencer unlocked the door to the apartment, resting his head against the wood as he inserted the key into the lock. The most recent case had ended with the death of both the latest victim and the unsub, and he couldn’t bear another second of remembering the scene play out in front of him.

All he wanted to do was lay in her arms, but when he opened the door, the apartment was completely silent.

And then he saw a little fuzzy sock clad foot sticking out from underneath the huge, fluffy blanket on the couch. Slowly, he walked towards you, finding you fast asleep with a t-shirt of his tightly snuggled up to your neck and face.

Spencer got down on a knee in front of you, and brushed the hair that had fallen over your eyes. Slowly, they fluttered open at his feather touch, only to widen with realization.

“You’re home!” You squealed, throwing your hands around his neck. Immediately, he reciprocated the hug, tighter than usual. Spencer tucked his head into your neck and inhaled the scent of your shampoo, a grounding technique he would never tell you he developed. The hands he delicately placed at first across the expanse of your back grew heavier, drawing your body closer to his. 

You pulled your head back, him following your movements, and stared deeply into his eyes for a second. The moment you two locked eyes, he knew the jig was up. Spencer knew you could see right through him, and he knew that even if you weren’t there to witness what he had, you saw it replaying over and over in his eyes.

“You must be tired, let’s get you to bed.” Your words shocked him at first. Usually, the people in his life would ask insistent questions on his mental well-being, and while they were greatly appreciated, Spencer was never one to open up when asked to.

You, however, didn’t meddle, you didn’t push. You simply gave him a place to feel safe as you two settled under the duvet together, never letting go of one another even for a second. You held the back of his head, slowly brushing your fingers through his curls as he laid against your chest. Your fingers were medicinal to him, softly taking away the pain and violence of the day, and replacing it with security, comfort, love.

“No one’s ever been that excited to see me before, let alone knew how to take care of me the way you did. I just,” Spencer trailed off and looked towards our bedroom, where you stirred in your sleep looking for him. “You’re about to wake up and wonder where I went. Now you know what I was doing in “the bathroom” for 30 minutes actually meant. Alright, see you next video, love bug.”

The screen cut to Spencer obviously holding the phone close to his chest, the only thing in frame the space where his shoulder and neck met. The soft chords of the start of Vienna by Billy Joel can be heard from outside the room he was in. 

“Okay, I’m gonna have to sneak up on you. I’m sorry in advance.” 

Spencer finally addressed the camera. As the Spencer on the TV quietly left his position in what you could only assume was your bedroom, you looked over at your very real Spencer softly smiling at the TV.

When he caught your stare, he said “Watch, this is my favorite part.” Turning back to the TV, you watched as Spencer carefully tiptoed to the living room, placing the camera to lean against the vase in the middle of the dinner table to face the kitchen.

In the kitchen, you watched yourself very poorly sing along with Billy Joel using a whisk that you just got done washing as a microphone. The blush that crept up your neck and to your cheeks with embarrassment still felt the same as it did that day.

You hadn’t heard Spencer sneak up on you, not until he was right behind you and let out a soft chuckle at a note you missed. Spencer had never seen someone jump out of their skin as much as you did when he made his presence known. 

“Jesus Spencer, you scared me!” You yelled before a smile crept up your face. You couldn’t help it, even in the most embarrassing times, not when Spencer looked at you like that.

“Sorry, love bug. Although, I didn’t mean for you to stop the show.” At that you hit his chest with the whisk/microphone, both of you laughing fully now. “Come here.”

Spencer took your hand, pulling you softly to his chest where you laid your head to his heart. Wrapping his hand around your waist, the two of you started to slowly sway to the music. You both were incredibly offbeat to Vienna, but listening to Spencer’s heart, you realized that the tempo you were dancing at matched up. Unbeknownst to you, due to the adrenaline of being scared, Spencer could feel your heartbeat on his abdomen, and was swaying to that.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, dancing to the in sync beat of each other’s hearts.

The clip of you dancing however only lasted 10 more seconds as the next scene of Spencer bundled up for the fall played. You had met Spencer during the fall, and fell in love with the way the red, yellow and orange leaves contrasted against his honey eyes. This clip was no different.

“Hey, love bug. I’m on my way to deliver this coffee to you in between classes, but I had to stop so I can show you my new friends I’ve made along the way.”

The camera panned down to 4 little ducklings surrounding Spencer’s converse, most of them just waddling around, but one was insistently pecking at the rubber toe of his left shoe. Spencer pointed at the little deviant and said ‘that’s you’ before bringing the camera back up to his face.

“I may have made the mistake of feeding them the fruit I was bringing you, which reminds me I should probably go get you more. I don’t think you’ll be mad though. How could you? Look how cute they are! I kind of want to take them home, but I definitely know that’ll make you mad. Anyways, I just wanted to show off that you’re not always the animal person in this relationship. See you soon, love bug.”

“Oh my god, Spencer. That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, but to confirm your thoughts, yes, I would’ve been mad,” you stated, the giddy smile never leaving your face, and giggles spreading themselves through your words.

“I know, I know. They belong in the wild,” he said back, holding up his free hand in faux defeat.

A new scene presented itself to you, this one being Spencer setting up the camera on the bathroom sink while brushing his teeth. You knew you were approaching by the music slowly getting louder.

You entered you and Spencer’s shared bathroom, Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John playing out of your phone. He was brushing his teeth, and you followed suit, not stopping the small dancing as you did.

You looked at Spencer, and started moving side to side, your free hand grabbing the crook of his elbow to join you. Looking in the mirror expectedly, you watched Spencer look up at the ceiling before joining you, a smile on his face.

Slowly, the two of you fell into a rhythm to the beat of Elton John, making funny faces to each other in the mirror as you did so.

You reached out fully to lean your head on Spencer’s shoulder as you watched.

The scene on the TV shifted once again to show a very flustered you standing in front of the TV with Citizen Kane paused. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you were sporting one of Spencer’s old Caltech t-shirts, and fuzzy black pants with little pumpkins printed everywhere.

Spencer was also wearing the same fuzzy pants.

“Spence, I’m gonna sound crazy here,” you sprinting off the couch after pausing the film you were currently trying to study for your film analysis class. 

“You’re not off to a great start here,” Spencer laughed out. Spencer once told you that no matter what he thought about a book or film, he wanted to listen to you ramble about it for hours. The first thing he fell in love with about you was the way you challenged his thinking, expanding his mind to the possibilities of learning about the difference between production design and cinematography. You taught him something that no class, book or person could ever.

Your mouth dropped open, an over exaggerated gasp leaving your lips, your hand meeting your chest softly. 

“Meanie.” Spencer and you chuckled at the antics, and when the laughs died down, you continued. “Here me out, though.”

And from there, you went into a deep dive about the unreliable narrator, and how it affects camera placement in the scene you two just watched. 

“Oh my god. I talk that fast?” You asked Spencer, who just let a breathy laugh out at your realization.

“Don’t worry, I think it’s adorable,” he whispered the last part, the smile on his face turning from one of hilarity to one full of love.

30 seconds into your rant, you realize the phone he was attempting to hide close to his lap. Your eyes flicked between the camera that was pointed at you, and Spencer, who’s face filled with confusion as to why you stopped talking.

“Are you recording me?” You asked, a smile never leaving your face. Oh no, he’d been caught. Spencer has to think of a believable excuse, and quick.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I just uh... I figured instead of you trying to write it down later, you’d want all your notes now.” Perfect!

“Damn, that was good,” you said, nodding softly at his swiftness. You couldn’t be mad he lied, how could you when the truth was this beautiful?

“I know, right? I came up with it on the spot,” Spencer joked with you. As if TV Spencer knew he was interrupting a moment, a throat clearing came from the video. The Spencer you saw was from 3 days ago, and was sitting in his car in what looked to be the Quantico parking garage.

“Hi, love bug. I’m days away from showing you this, and I still don’t know what to say. I hope the me you’re with now has figured it out. So, uh, yeah. That’s it. Uh, take it away, future Spencer. Actually, you’d be present Spenc-” The video cut off, courtesy of Penelope Garcia.

“Y/N,” Spencer started, turning to face a very emotional you fully. “I still haven’t found the right words. None of them could express my love for you, and perfect doesn’t come close to describing you. I know you have a thing for supporting evidence, and I think I just provided a lot to prove that the best thing to ever happen in my life is you.” You let out a small giggle, the tears welling in your eyes breaking free. “Oh no, if you cry, then I’m going to.”

You let out a full laugh now as Spencer wiped the tears falling down your cheeks before continuing.

“Before you, I was reckless. I didn’t care what happened as long as I did something to help. Now, I have a reason to be careful, a reason to care. I can’t do that to you, and if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, I need to live.”

You inhaled softly as Spencer reached into the pocket of his pants, taking your hand in his.

“Which brings me to my question,” he said with a small smile and cocked his head. Slowly, he dropped down to one knee in front of you.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” Spencer opened the velvet box to reveal a simple silver band with a square cut diamond delicately placed on top.

“Spencer Reid, yes. I will marry you.”

With shaky fingers, he slid the ring on your fingers, the fit perfect. You couldn’t wait any longer, and grabbed his face in your hands to pull his lips to yours. Your lips molded together in perfect harmony, lulling you deeper into Spencer’s embrace. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I love you, too,” Spencer answered, only pulling back far enough to mumble before kissing you again.

Note to self: thank Penelope Garcia.

____

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[shushiyuii]

tiny naga ranboo being nomed by giant techno because it was cold

It is done, my dear Anon! :3

(I can just hear Mario kart blasting from my brothers rn lmao)

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma and Soft vore

Words: 1.5K+

The calming ember sounds of the fire filled the room, crackling echoes. The occasional sound of a page-turning or grunts could be heard from the pinkette situated not too far from the windowsill as it was right next to the desk.

It was a comforting silence, at least from Technoblade’s standpoint. It couldn’t be quite the same for Ranboo. He watched as the snowflakes fell softly onto the window, being small he could make out the details of the snowflakes and their design.

All different and unique, it was distracting… But maybe not distracting enough. His thoughts clouded with worry, panic. Not that he’d display this worry in front of Techno though, since he didn’t quite have a good history with the two, he was worried about.

But what if they froze in the cold? If he couldn’t keep them warm or protect them? He knew he had no reason to worry about his other tiny friends because they could more or less handle themselves, but he couldn’t help but worry.

“You alright, Ranboo?”. Ranboo turned his head to see that Techno had now directed his attention towards him. He hissed low as he coiled in on himself a bit more, he hadn’t noticed the chill that came from the window as he finally came to reality.

He was freezing himself, “I-I’m okay! No worries, Techno!”. Ranboo could handle himself in this weather, he’d done it many a time before since he used to live in the Antarctic constantly, not only that but now in Snowchester.

He could handle a bit of the cold. “You sure? You look rather chilly there.”. It seemed that Techno had no interest in what defiance Ranboo had to say as Techno walked over and offered his hand to the naga.

“…”. He hissed softly and placed his hand onto Techno’s, a pleasant change in temperature. So much so that his instincts took over and curled around Techno’s arm, embracing the warmth. He looked up just to see Techno smile.

A rare sight as the Piglin rarely ever displayed affection, it just went to show the trust between the two. “You sure you aren’t cold?” It was a rather teasing tone, Ranboo just huffed in response, a rare sort of sass from himself. “Now what’s gotten you so bothered?”.

Well, it was apparently obvious that something was on his mind but how was he supposed to tell Techno he was worried about the one who betrayed him and the government that had attempted to kill him at some point?

“Uhh- It’s nothing, promise”. Techno hummed, he knew it wasn’t just nothing, but he wasn’t one to press on matters, especially if they weren’t any of his business. “Alright, but if you want to talk or something. I’m uh- here, okay?”.

Ranboo smiled up at Techno and smiled, “Thanks.”. “No problem, now uh- How about some food eh? You’re probably tired after having to travel to the Syndicate meeting today-“. Techno made his way to the fireplace he cooked food on, Techno grabbed a small bowl and filled it up with the stew.

He made his way back to his desk, placing the bowl beside his work. He allowed Ranboo to get off his arm towards the meal, then sat down at his seat. So, the two sat there in silence, the naga eating as much of he could of the bowl’s contents and Techno writing away, most likely plans to demolish a government.

…

“I uh-“, Ranboo broke the silence. He wanted to tell Techno, but he was worried about what Techno would think of such things. Then Techno hummed, an indication he was listening. Great now he had to tell him, didn’t he?

“I’m worried…”

“About what?”

“About uh- Tommy and Tubbo…”.

Techno turned to face Ranboo but it wasn’t with malice or anything, if anything it was of concern. “How come? Is something the matter?”. “I- I kind of left without warning- So, I’m worried that the two will come looking for me, and in this weather, it won’t be good for the two…”.

He coiled in himself sightly, worried for the Piglin’s response of anger.

Instead, a gentle finger ruffled the naga’s hair, “We can go look for them if you want?”. Techno’s face was soft and gentle, meaning that the gesture was genuine, but Ranboo couldn’t help but question that fact. “B-But I thought you-“

“Hated them?”, he was cut off. A sigh came from Techno as he pinched his snout. “I don’t, rather it’s displeasure. Even though what they’ve done, I’ve never hated them for that fact.”, “W-why?”, “Because, well… If you think about it, Tubbo was a young president, wasn’t he?”.

Ranboo nodded, “That means he had a council, meaning he was under the influence of others, that he in fact didn’t quite have full control. As for Tommy, I may have a fact to confess. Didn’t really want to announce it but I might as well”.

He continued as he picked up a piece of paper from the side, “A crow recently came to me with a letter, it was strange because Phil lived next door. But, the letter itself wasn’t from Phil, it was from-“, “Tommy?”, “Yes”.

“He sent a letter of apology yesterday, stating regret for his actions and such. Wishing to work on what he had messed up”. Ranboo perked up at that fact, he knew he and Tommy had discussed Tommy’s past actions and such, but he didn’t think Tommy would live up to it.

“Wow- I didn’t think-“, “Yeah, I was surprised as well. But it seems the boy is changing. So, I’m more than happy to help. Besides, after all you’ve done for me, I think I owe you a favour or two, don’t I?”

“What?! No, No! No-“, a giant finger pressed to small lips. Well, it seems he couldn’t quite argue with Techno at this point.

Then, he shivered. It surprised him because he hadn’t noticed it had gotten so cold. In fact, it seemed that the snowstorm outside was picking up. He looked to Techno, “As much as I appreciate the offer Techno it’s freezing outside.”.

Techno hummed, “Piglins can handle cold temperatures. Actually, I’d be completely warm during the whole storm. Now, come here.”.

Techno lent his hand again, confused he looked at Technoblade’s face. “What?”, “Aren’t you going to come with me?”, “I- Techno it’s-“. “It’s fine, I’ll store you”.

Ranboo sighed in defeat and coiled around Techno’s hand securely as Techno brought Ranboo towards his face. “Y’know it’ll be better than out here; I’m built for the nether.”. Ranboo hummed in response and hissed softly, showing he was comfortable with that fact.

Then, it began as Techno opened his maw wide for the Naga to slip inside. Ranboo shrieked back slightly at the sight of the number of sharp fangs on display. In a second, Techno’s tongue wrapped around his torso in a comforting matter as it picked him up and brought him into the man’s mouth.

It was undoubtedly warm as Ranboo instinctively hugged the tongue that now laid beneath him. To which it responded by giving him a few licks. The mouth vibrated slightly as he could hear purrs admitting from Techno’s throat.

To which the tongue then began to quickly poke and wrap around him a bit more, it seemed that Techno was rather enjoying the Naga’s taste. (Most probably due to the fact that for Techno, it tasted like a mix of Vanilla and Chocolate.).

Despite the mouth itself is warm and comfortable, it couldn’t quite be the same for his tail as he hung out from the mouth between Techno’s lips. Then, the mouth shifted upwards slightly. Not enough for Ranboo to slip down but rather an indication of communication.

Ranboo picked up on that, so he responded by rubbing the roof of the mouth, allowing Techno to know that he had the approval of swallowing. And so, the room shifted more upwards as Ranboo slipped into the entrance of the throat, to which he was gently swallowed.

The purring increased as his throat pressed up against him, it was squeezing him but not in an uncomfortable manner. He almost made him want to laugh as he was still technically outside with his tail.

In a fun manner, he moved his tail slightly. Techno’s purring then stopped suddenly, it confused him as he heard nothing from the Piglin, only the feeling of the throat pressing him down. But suddenly, he made him almost want to laugh as a tickling sensation was felt on his tail.

Techno slurped up his tail like a noodle and swallowed and continued until Ranboo landed in his stomach. And when he did, Ranboo couldn’t help but laugh after what played out, in fact, it had actually cheered him up of his worries.

“Thanks, Tech, I needed that.”, Techno hummed “No worries just get comfortable, I gotta find two other brats now.”. A comforting rub could be felt from the walls, he rubbed back with a smile.

Techno then grabbed his cape and crown, opening the doors to a barreling amount of snow attacking his face, but shook it off as he had to find two maniacs that were probably wandering around in the snow.

He smiled, it had actually been a while since he had stored somebody. The last time he had done so was with Tommy, hiding him from Dream. He actually missed the boy...

At least for now Ranboo was safe and comfortable, now he had to worry about those other two idiots.

[theladyofdeath]

Another First Date {Fatherhood}

An extension of Oblivion. It’s not necessary to read the story first, but if you’d like to, here is the masterlist: Oblivion

A series of short stories that revolve around Cassian as a single father, raising his daughter, Lily.

Fatherhood {Oblivion Masterlist}

Cassian looked in the mirror and slowly shook his head.

He felt ridiculous.

It had been almost ten years since Cassian had been out on a date and he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. If it hadn’t been for Feyre and Elain’s constant asking of him to get himself back out there and be happy, he wouldn’t even be doing what he was about to do.

It wasn’t that Feyre and Elain wanted him to forget about Nesta. Instead, they insisted that he was lonely, even though he really wasn’t. He had no time to be lonely.

Lily kept him on his toes.

At nine-years-old, she kept him just as busy as she had when she was a newborn. Instead of changing dirty diapers and gifting her unending bottles, though, he was taking her to dance and soccer, helping her with homework, and bringing her and her friends to the park on playdates. 

But, after his sister-in-laws thought he should be doing more for himself, they had set him up.

He had a ton of emotions about it.

Nerves being at the top of the list.

Excitement from time to time.

An excessive amount of guilt. 

Which was ridiculous. Of course, he knew Nesta wouldn’t have minded him finding someone else. It had been nearly a decade since her death. By now, most people would have moved on and found someone new. 

Cassian just hadn’t been ‘most people’.

“You look nice, dad.”

Cassian spun around, not having heard his daughter creep into the doorway. Kiara, their golden retriever, sat by her feet.

“Yeah?” Cassian asked, looking back in the mirror. “I shouldn’t wear the red shirt?”

Lily shook her head, arms crossed. “Definitely the black.”

“Alright,” Cassian sighed. “Thanks, kid.”

Lily nodded. ‘Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome. While you were getting yourself all prettied-up, Aunt Lainy got here. She’s ordering pizza for me and Nora.”

Cassian nodded as he grabbed his wallet and keys from off the top of his dresser. He slowly faced his daughter. “Look, if you’re not okay with this-.”

Lily groaned and rolled her eyes. “Dad, I told you it's fine.”

“I know, I just-.”

Lily, apparently having heard enough, turned on her heels and walked away, Kiara keeping just behind her. He had asked Lily the week before if she would be okay with him going on a date.

And he had continued to ask her every day since.

She’d never seemed concerned about it, had told him to go and have fun. He then went on to go into detail about what dates entail, and she told him to please shut up when he told her he may be kissing some random woman.

He also told her that no one would ever replace her mother.

It was impossible. 

And every time Cassian had asked Lily if it was okay, she had told him it was.

So, here he was, feeling like an inexperienced teenager, about to go out on a blind date. Tanwyn worked with Feyre, and Cassian knew very little about her. All he knew is that she was nice and pretty and liked kids.

Cassian figured it was a good starting point. 

When he went downstairs, Elain, Nora, Lily, and Kiara were all on the couch together, turning on a movie. When Elain saw Cassian, she whistled. 

“Look at you, handsome,” she sang.

Lily and Nora covered their mouths and broke into a fit of giggles. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, as he reached the floor and headed toward the door. He stopped in the living room, though, and knelt down in front of Lily. “You’ll probably be asleep when I get home, so if that’s the case, I love you and goodnight.”

“I love you, too,” Lily beamed. “Now leave. It’s girls night.”

Cassian snorted and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. “Be good.”

“She’s always good,” Elain said, shooing him away. As he walked by her though, she whispered, “Have fun, Cass.” 

He would.

He would try, anyway. 

As he got into his truck and put Tanwyn’s address into his GPS, though, he felt like he was going to puke. A date. What did people even do on dates these days? Was romance still a thing, or was it all about sex?

Sex.

Mother’s tits, it had been a long time since Cassian had sex. He’d become quite friendly and familiar with his hand throughout the years, though.

That had been Rhysand and Azriel’s chime when he told them their wives were trying to set him up.

Look at it this way: even if it goes bad, at least you’ll get some.

As Cassian stopped at the stop sign at the end of his road, he felt the strong temptation to turn around and haul ass back home.

But, he knew that would only lead to a scolding from Elain, so he turned right and made his way toward the main road. 

Ten minutes later, he was pulling into Tanwyn’s driveway and regretting everything. 

Leaving his truck running, he strode to the front door, rang the doorbell, and waited.

He could hear hurried steps on the other side of the door, and then it was thrown open.

Feyre had been right - Tanwyn was pretty, and perhaps only a year or two younger than Cassian. She wasn’t much shorter than he was, with her long, tanned legs and long, brown hair. 

She smiled when she met Cassian’s eyes. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Cassian said, then cleared his throat. “You look...nice.” 

She wore a red dress that showed off a generous amount of cleavage. 

“You look pretty good yourself,” she said, and stepped out onto the porch, shutting and locking her door behind her. “I’m Tanwyn.”

“Cassian,” he said, and held out his hand like he was at a damned job interview.

Tanwyn let out a quiet laugh before shaking his hand, delicately. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Cassian, the gentleman he was, opened the passenger side door and helped Tanwyn up into his truck. He then got behind the wheel and put the truck into reverse.

“Feyre’s told me a lot about you,” Tanwyn said, when they began driving down the road. 

“Uh oh,” Cassian muttered. “All good things I hope.” 

Tanwyn nodded. “All good things.”

They fell into a silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, even though Cassian’s thoughts remained racing at a million miles an hour. 

What was she thinking?

What exactly had Feyre told her?

Was she aware that he kept glancing at her breasts?

It was going to be a long night.

They pulled into the restaurant and Tanwyn made a comment about how much she liked the place he’d chosen. It had been years since he’d been there, the last time being for a company Christmas party, but the food was good and it was upscale enough to be considered fancy. 

They sat in a corner and there was a candle lit between them. The waiter brought out a bottle of white wine, and Cassian wasted no time downing his glass before filling up again.

Just a little to take the edge off.

“You seem nervous,” Tanwyn said, at last, after the waiter brought them a basket of bread.

Cassian took a slice of bread out of the basket and buttered it up before he asked, “Exactly how much did Feyre tell you about me?”

Tanwyn’s eyes softened, and there it was.

The pity.

“I know about your past, if that’s what you’re referring to,” she said, and took a piece of bread for herself. “And I know you have a daughter, too. Lily, is it?”

“Yeah,” Cassian said, finally finding a subject he was comfortable talking about - his daughter, his love. “She’s almost ten, although she thinks she’s sixteen.” 

Tanwyn chuckled. “I get that. I don’t have kids, but I have a niece I’m close to. She’s the same age. Maybe we can get them together sometime.” 

Cassian nodded as he gave her a nice, gentle smile. “That sounds nice.”

The dinner went on like that. Tanwyn was kind, and she seemed genuine. There was nothing about her that was a turn off, nothing that seemed strange or out of place.

Which is why, when Cassian brought her back home after dinner and dropped her off, he walked her up to her front door and leaned down, pressing his lips softly to hers.

The kiss lasted a few seconds, and it was nothing heated, nothing intense.

It was….nice.

But that’s all it was. Just nice. 

When they pulled apart, Tanwyn smiled. “Goodnight, Cassian.”

“Goodnight,” he said, and she walked inside.

So much for getting some. 

Cassian made his way back to his truck and got inside, and drove back across town to his house. There was a soft light on in the living room, but the rest of the house was dark. He looked at the clock on his dashboard. It was just after ten. 

When he opened the door, Elain was sitting on the couch by the lamp on the side table, watching some horrid reality t.v. show. As soon as she heard the door, though, she was looking over her shoulder, brows raised. “You’re home early.” 

Cassian chuckled as he strode to the couch and plopped down next to his sister-in-law. “Yeah, don’t tell your husband that.”

Elain smiled, but she nodded as she looked back toward the t.v. “So, how’d it go?”

Cassian thought for a minute about the right way to answer such a loaded question, but he eventually settled on, “It was okay.”

“Okay?” Elain repeated. 

“Nice,” Cassian pushed. “It was nice.”

She looked over at him, then. “Will there be a second date?”

Cassian let out a breath through his nose and shrugged. “I don’t think so, Lainy.”

“Why not?” she asked, only curiosity in her voice. “She’s nice, and gorgeous, and judging by the pink lipstick on the corner of your mouth, she’s into you, too.”

Cassian hesitated as he reached up and wiped off his mouth. Sure enough, on the back of his hand was the softest tint of pink. He laughed, quietly. “She was nice. And, yeah, she’s beautiful….but, it just didn’t feel right, you know?”

"Because of Nesta?” Elain asked, resting her head on the back of the couch.

“No,” Cassian answered. “Yeah. Both yes and no.”

Elain just watched him, waiting for him to continue, patiently. 

“There was just no spark, you know?” Cassian said, at last, staring absently at the wall beside the t.v. “With Nesta….it was like this all-consuming fire. Constant flame, passion….” He shook his head. “Every time I even thought about her I would get so weak in the knees that I couldn’t function, and my mind….would just lose all train of thought. When I was with her, even when we were just kids, starting to date, I had no doubt in my mind that she was the one that I wanted. Even after the years we spent apart, I never lost sight of that, never stopped feeling that way about her. Even now, after ten years without her, Elain, every time I think about her…” His words trailed off as a lump caught in his throat and his vision blurred. He cleared his throat, and even though Elain didn’t push for him to continue, he said, quietly, “Nothing and no one can ever compare to what we had. And, I know relationships aren’t meant to be compared and that I could probably get together with Tanwyn, or someone else, and be happy enough. But, when you had a love like Nesta and I had….everything else just seems….small. Insignificant. Underwhelming.” He looked at Elain and he saw what was left of a tear that had fallen down her pale cheek. “I loved too greatly to love again.” 

Elain opened her mouth to speak, surely to protest, but Cassian shook his head. “And I’m okay with that. I’m at peace with it. You and Feyre worry too much. I’m not lonely. I have a great job, a great family, and an incredible kid,” he said, tossing his arm around Elain and pulling her into his side. “As for sex, Tanwyn was too nice for a one night stand. Good thing my hand is great company.”

Elain laughed, pushing off of him. “I can always count on you to ruin a moment with something inappropriate.”

“Yeah, that was an Azriel and Rhys comment, wasn’t it,” Cassian said, even though he was grinning. “True, though.”

“TMI,” Elain commented, shaking her head. She stood, taking her empty wine glass with her to the kitchen. “Wine?”

“Considering it’s mine?” Cassian chuckled as she disappeared around the corner. “Yeah, sure.”

She came back a moment later with two full glasses. “I thought I’d crash on the couch tonight since Nora is already asleep with Lil in her room. Azriel won’t be back from his trip to Adriata until tomorrow afternoon.”

“He needs a new job,” Cassian muttered, taking the glass from her outstretched hand. “Travels too much.”

Elain hummed in agreement, but the job paid well, and Cassian knew that’s why none of them ever complained. 

Cassian kicked off his shoes and watched crappy t.v. with his sister, instead of having spent the night with a beautiful, single woman. Elain didn’t push him any further about it, even though Cassian was fully aware that she most likely had a thousand more questions.

He had meant what he’d said, though. 

I loved too greatly to love again.

His relationship with Nesta had been more than a relationship. She had been his soulmate, and when two hearts connected on the level that theirs had, there was no going back to those simple, mundane relationships.

They just didn’t compare.

And Cassian was okay with that.

He wouldn’t trade what he’d had with Nesta for anything, even though their time together was cut far too short. He’d do it all again, even if it led to the same outcome.

Every damn time.

It was better to have loved Nesta Archeron and lost than to have never loved her at all.

[elliottspond]

The Chess Game

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: (Fluff) Reader finds a white pawn moved on a chess board, so they start to play a game against a stranger...a very adorable stranger, as they come to find out.

Word Count: 2.0k

Warnings: None! :)

A/N: Spencer is on his temporary leave in this fic, as it states that he goes to the shop every day.

[Please do not steal my work. Reblogs are appreciated. Happy reading!]

You unlock the front door to the coffee shop you own, escaping the cold air outside while you turn on the lights. You walk to the back to put all your stuff down before starting to get everything ready for the day. 

One of your employees walks in and you greet them, both of you talking about random things as you check everything behind the counter and he goes around, taking the chairs off the tables and pushing them in.

“Have you touched the chess board at all?” Finn suddenly changes the topic and you look away from what you were doing to look at him, noticing he’s standing by the board. You narrow your eyes, wondering why he would bring it up now.

The chess board is placed on the corner of the counter that holds extra things for customers, like sugar and napkins. It’s not hidden, but most people think that it’s just decoration because of where it’s placed so no one ever uses it. It used to sit on a small table, but even then it sat unused and it was taking up space, so you had to move it.

It has been a topic of conversation amongst you and your employees. You’ve said that you should take it out of the shop since there’s no point of it being there if no one uses it, but your workers want you to keep it. They’re argument is they’re “learning chess so they can play against you”, but you know they’re definitely not. 

It would feel weird if it wasn’t in here anymore since it’s been in the shop since you opened it, which is why you think your employees still want it here, even if it’s in the corner.

You walk around the counter to stand next to Finn, both of you now looking down at the chess board. One white pawn has been moved, all the other pieces having remained in the same place.

“I haven’t touched it since I last dusted it off.” That was two nights ago, so whoever moved the pawn must have done it yesterday.

The bell above the door rings, making you and Finn turn your heads to see Lolly, another one of your employees. “What are you guys doing?” She walks over while adjusting the bag on her shoulder, eyebrows furrowing when she sees the board. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” You sigh, wondering who decided to only move one piece. “Did you see anyone touch the board yesterday?” She shakes her head, mumbling a quiet ‘no’.

“Maybe someone else working yesterday saw?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to ask when they come in later.” Finn and Lolly walk away from the board, but you stay and move one of the black pieces, wanting to see if another white piece will be moved. Hopefully the same customer will come in today, and you’ll be able to catch them.

As the day goes by, you try to look over at the corner as much as you can to see if you can catch anyone, but you have no luck. It’s difficult to see if anyone touches the board since it’s in a place where a lot of customers go, but you try your best. When the workers with afternoon shifts come in you ask if either of them saw anything yesterday, both of them saying they didn’t notice anyone touching the board.

When the time comes to close, you’re upset. Someone finally noticed the board that had been sitting, collecting dust. Is it too much to ask what nice human wanted to start a chess game? You’d been looking over at the board practically all day, yet you didn’t catch anyone over there.

The last customer walks out so you lock the doors to keep anyone else from coming in before starting to clean up along with your workers. You put the chairs up on the tables, then you walk over to get the broom to sweep the floor. As you start to sweep your way over to the counter where the chess board is, you notice it.

Another white piece moved.

You let out an audible sigh, staring at the board for a few more seconds before you move another one of your pieces, hoping that the same person will come in again tomorrow, and you’ll be able to catch them.

But that’s not what happens.

The next two days go by, and you still haven’t been able to catch anyone moving a piece on the board. Each day by closing, another white piece has moved and each day you become a little more frustrated as you move another one of your pieces.

//

On the third day, you go through the same routine, updating Finn and Lolly on what happened the day before while you set everything up for the day. You keep a close eye on the board like you have the past few days, all the while trying to do your job.

“Excuse me?” A customer calls out, Finn and Lolly both busy so you stop what you’re doing and look over. You see one of your regular customers, who you know by the name of Spencer Reid.

You don’t know much about him since you’ve never talked to him except to take his order. You only know his name because of the FBI ID he used to wear. He hasn’t worn it in a while, though, and you kinda miss seeing the picture that was on it. More specifically, the small smile he wore.

He always comes in in the mornings when Finn and Lolly are working, so all three of you know his name, but you all sometimes refer to him as ‘Agent Diabetes’ because of how much sugar that man puts in his coffee. You never say it to his face, of course, just as a joke between the three of you. The first time he came in, you thought you were imagining how much sugar he used.

Besides his name, you also know he’s really smart, but can also be really dumb. You’ve caught women go up to him because he’s no doubt attractive, but he never knows that the women are trying to hit on him. However, you’ve overheard him a few times going into detail about whatever topic that woman brought up and you’re always shocked about how much he knows.

“How can I help you?” You walk over to where he’s standing, noticing he’s holding an empty container.

“Can I get some more sugar?” Of course. He holds out the container that you now know is the sugar holder, and you take it.

“Sure.” You give him a smile before turning, putting the empty container down and grabbing a full one. You hand it to him and he takes it, thanking you while giving you a small smile like the one on the ID he used to wear, one which you return.

He walks back to the counter, and you turn to fill up the container he gave you so it’s ready and no one has to do it later. While you’re refilling it, a commotion makes you turn around to see that Spencer spilled his coffee.

You tell Finn and Lolly that you’ll get it, and you get the cleaning supplies before walking over to where he spilled. He apologizes over and over again, and you keep assuring him that it’s nothing to worry about.

When you finish cleaning the half coffee, half sugar liquid from the floor and the to-go cup was thrown away—by him, insisting that he wanted to help—you tell him to wait while you make a new drink. Before you manage to make it behind the counter, though, you catch a glimpse of the chess board.

Yet another white piece has moved.

You keep staring at it, wondering how this person has managed to move a piece multiple times when you’ve been watching the chess board as much as you can. 

“Everything okay?” Spencer snaps you out of your thoughts, and it takes you a few seconds to process that he asked you a question.

“Oh. Uh, yeah.” You go to put the cleaning supplies back so you can start on making him a new drink, but he stops you.

“Were you looking at the chess board?” Your head whips over to look at him, and he’s pointing over to where the chess board sits. He seems confused, wondering why you were staring at the board, but you’re also confused as to why he would be asking you that question.

Is it him? It could be…he comes in everyday, and he seems like he knows how to play chess. He’s pretty smart, after all. “Yeah,” you hesitantly let out. “Why?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it after a few seconds. His eyebrows furrow and he purses his lips, like he’s thinking about what he wants to say.

“You’ve been playing chess with someone.” He says it as a statement, and not as a question like most people would. Not only is he smart, but also perceptive.

You nod your head, mumbling a quiet confirmation and he looks surprised. “Why?” You repeat yourself.

You’re pretty sure you know why, but you want to make sure. He could have just noticed how a few chess pieces have moved each day while he pours sugar into his coffee. With the amount he puts in, he stands at the counter long enough to notice something like that, but you hope that’s not the case.

“You’re pretty good at it.” You immediately furrow your eyebrows, and before you can say anything someone bumps into your back. Realizing you’re standing in the middle of the shop, you motion for Spencer to go stand to the side of the cash registers as you put the cleaning supplies away.

After you wash your hands, you walk over to where Spencer is, the two of you now separated by the main counter.

“So you’re the one who I’ve been playing against?” He nods his head, and you notice he’s smiling wider than when you gave him his sugar. “And what do you mean I’m good at it? We practically just started the game.”

“I usually win in a few moves.” He says it like it’s no big deal and it makes complete sense, but it doesn’t make sense to you. It must’ve been obvious, because he continues to explain. “I have an IQ of 187.”

But that does nothing except confuse you more. This man is more than smart. “So you’re like, a genius?”

“A certified genius.” He confirms quickly, and you can’t help but laugh at how specific he is. He lets out a small laugh as well, although it’s kind of an awkward one, like he doesn’t know why you did it in the first place.

“Alright certified genius, let me make you your coffee.” You turn around to start it, and all you can think about is how adorable this man is once you start talking to him. Wanting to talk to him more, you know you don’t have the nerves. Now that you know how smart he actually is, you find him a little intimidating, but you soon find that you don’t have to worry about that.

As you give him his coffee, he asks a question that catches you off guard. “Do you wanna play an actual game of chess? One where we can move more than one piece a day?”

A small smile grows on your lips and you feel your cheeks warm up, and he definitely notices because the same thing happens to him. “Yeah, I’d like that.” You grab a notepad and pen, ripping a piece of paper off to write your phone number on it and you hand it to him.

He takes it with the hand that isn’t holding his coffee, and says one last thing before he leaves that causes the butterflies in your stomach to flutter.

“And we don’t only have to play chess. We can go out to dinner or something, if you’d like.” He starts to walk away before you can say anything else, and he holds up the paper you gave him like he’s saying he’ll text you.

And he does.

[wandsandwheezes]

NASCAR III | G.W

WARNINGS // 6.9k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex, one ass slap.

A/N // the series that nobody expected to become a series has now officially done just that. @darthwheezely​ and I do be hoes for these racer boys xoxo 🏎🦋 ILYSM PHIA MWAH <333

“Fred, have you seen my jumper?”

“Yeah, it’s on the bed, baby” he called. Fred was not often a meticulous man, but (as Lee said) ‘if the fit called for a bit of work, it was always worth it.’ 

And to Fred, going to a press conference with his exceptionally hot fiancé warranted at least basic perfection, right?

Fred made a low whistle as she came out of the bathroom, a towel around her. “Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes.” She came to stand in front of him, pressing one, two, three kisses to his mouth, the flavour of fresh toothpaste still on her mouth. He hummed in contentment and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Love, it’ll be fine, this will be my tenth, glorious win-“

“-and you almost got in a crash last time because you were being a tosser, remember?”

“Mmmm, that’s in the details,” he said softly. He searched her eyes and sighed, pulling her flush  into his body.

“I promise I’ll be okay this time, you know I’m a great driver and that this isn’t anything different...I still intend on marrying you in one piece, you know.” She chuckled at that and he tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring:

“I love you, you know that?”

“And I love you, Freddie...even though you are a tosser.” 

He slung her over his shoulder, rolling his eyes dramatically, and threw her on the bed, her giggling at the action.

“There’s my saucy little minx, now how about a pre-press test drive, yeah?...”

—

“I can’t just not go, babe.” George sighed, pushing the hair from his face, a sudden clammy feeling of his clothes against his skin indicating just how nervous he was for the up and coming press conference. 

“You’re running a fever, George, I’ll call Lee and tell him that you need the rest and that–” You rambled, pressing the cool back of your hand against his forehead, then neck and chest, feeling that thin veil of sweat forming against his hot skin.

“Don’t.” He mumbled all too abruptly, cutting your flow of words short. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at him before shaking your head. He recognised the tone at which he had spat his word, immediately pulling your hand into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry I snapped, I know you’re only looking out for me.”

“It’s okay, Georgie, I still think you should stay here with me.” You sighed, climbing over his legs to be sat in his lap as you breathed out softly, watching as his eyes softened only for his eyebrow to raise, a smirk soon finding his lips while his hands rested on your waist.

“Any old excuse to keep me at the hotel then, eh?” George licked his lips, pulling you closer into his chest as he eyed your expression, the giggle that fell from his lips like pure music to his ears.

“I just want you better for the race, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, his lips finding your cheeks to pepper kisses there with a smug grin on his face.

“I think I could win this one you know, regardless of me being sick or not, I have a good feeling about it.” He hummed, forehead pressed against yours lovingly.

“What makes you say that?” You prodded, running your hands through the hair at the back of his head.

“I have one thing nobody else has; you.” He praised, only for you to bury your face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath as his hands ran up your back. “I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you too, George, more than you’ll ever know.”

—

The conference room was packed - that’s an understatement, really. Every journalist alive came to talk to the new dominators of modern NASCAR racing, George and Fred Weasley. Although, as George spitefully knew:

He was somewhere because of Fred. Again.

That familiar feeling of resentment threatened to bubble in the younger twin’s throat, and he immediately began to push it down. The fights, the mutual disgust and disdain - that was done now. Ten wins for Fred should mean legitimately less than nothing but excitement for his older brother. 

So why was that feeling still there? 

“Hello, everyone, I’m sorry I’m late!” Fred entered from the back of the stage, nothing but glimmer (and gloat) in the elder twin’s face. Good mood Fred could always either be an impending disaster, or one of the best things the world has ever seen.

Of course he’s late, he’s always late, George thought, before guilt immediately settled in. 

Fred took a bottle of water, winking playfully at the young lady who got him one, before settling in his seat next to George. 

“Right then, questions?” Fred boomed, that familiar sunshine of a smile very evident on his face. The man behind them, George’s manager was directing questions, and George swallowed at what questions would appear. 

“This is for Fred, do you predict another victory in this race?” The journalist asked.

Fred leaned a bit forward in his seat and dipped his mouth into the microphone:

“Does the pope wear a big hat, love?”

George however sniggered to himself at the question, holding back a laugh at Fred’s answer. Of course he would answer in the cockiest way known to man, only lighting a fire under the younger twin’s arse to kick into gear and take the baby driver down a few pegs. 

“Something funny, Georgie?” Fred turned his head slightly to the side, the smile still there, but dark eyes venturing into icier territory.

“Nothing, Brother, just think you should remember there is always tough competition, no matter how cocksure you are.” George murmured loud enough into the microphone for his words to reverberate around the room, some reporters eyeing each other before vigorously taking notes. 

Fred had been taking a sip of his water and nearly choked, eliciting a “sorry everyone!” into the microphone. He gave George a brief side eye, but no - he wasn’t going to let him ruin his moment again. They’ve moved past this, George can have his own fun, why couldn’t he be a little confident for a change?

“Hi, this question is for George,” Fred only heard that much before a brief but very definite prickle of resentment tingled at his skin. He started to feel a bit warm but was determined to brush it off, turning towards George a bit.

“You’ve had a fantastic season these past couple years, and although you’ve lost the past ten races, you still stick to the top five - will we get our own Crimson Wonder back, or is that Fred’s title now?” 

George held back on his instinct to bite at his brother’s ego, instead taking a sip of water to collect his thoughts before speaking, his mind trailing back to the words he had said this morning; ‘I have a good feeling about this one’.

“Fred and I both train hard, as does every other racer out on that track,” George swallowed thickly before continuing his sentence, “But I think my own winning streak is far from over, who knows, as you say, you may get your Crimson Wonder back yet.” 

Fred attempted to register and probably stop the inherently blank expression on his face, but honestly? It was too much. Yes, George was great, and yes, he was proud of him but.

Why was there a deeply unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach? Twintuition as they called it was something not out of the ordinary at all - but why was it that somewhere in the back of his mind he just felt this...this negative foresight.

There was one thing Fred didn’t like more than avocados (Fred hated avocados) and that was losing.

“My baby brother, so inspirational isn’t he? Gets it from my mum, absolutely.” Fred curled his lips into his mouth, gnawing on his bottom lip, in complete understanding of what he just said. The reporters didn’t have to know that any time he brought up their age or said my mum instead of our mum, it kind of lit a match in George. 

In short, Fred knew exactly what he was doing. And George didn’t really like that, but he wasn’t about to stoop to Fred’s level and ruin his public imagery, not with his wife-to-be and his sister-in-law-to-be watching and murmuring to each other with pained faces: they knew the tension was there too, of course they had.

“I think we should leave the rest of the heat for rubber burning on the track.” The moderator cut in, taking final questions from the press aimed at the others on the panel, letting the twins simmer in their own jealousy toward one another as the conference came to a close.

The boys’ demeanours had completely shifted, George staying behind to take pictures and leave autographs for fans, smile on his face and a sense of pride in his chest, while Fred had made a swift exit in just the way he arrived, looking absolutely miserable.

—

“Georgie,” Fred called out from the locker rooms, “just what the fuck was that?” His bare chest red while he angrily scrambled to get his uniform on.

“Please,” George scoffed, zipping his uniform up calmly, before pushing his bag into his locker with ease, “I could ask you the same question.” 

“I was actually trying to give the press what they wanted, a good show, you, on the other hand, just wanted to be a proper arsehole in front of everyone.” He slammed his locker door shut, his knuckles on his hand against it surely white now from childish rage.

George closed his locker with force, not so much anger, running a hand through his hair before picking up his helmet, his tongue truly in his cheek, the angel on his shoulder begging him to stay quiet while the devil paralleled telling him that it was about time he spoke his feelings. “I’m the arsehole? Check your own actions first, mate.” 

He breathed but he wasn’t done, the words flowing like vomit as he finally let go all of the bottled aggression, “You don’t know the first thing about being a racer, how fucking tiring it is and you use it against me like its something I’m not good at and I’m fucking tired of it.” 

George went to continue, but the guilt of spitting every thought in his brain suddenly overcame him, instead he clutched at his helmet a little tighter, taking a deep breath before muttering as he walked away, “Good luck out there, you’ll need it.”

Fred stood there watching him walk away, something a bit more unfair that self-loathing and resentment lingering in his chest. It was dizzying, it was a feeling he altogether hated and actively tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Fred Weasley, in short, was guilty. 

—

The Arizona sun was beating down on the track, everyone watching on with baited breath as each car lined up on the Phoenix Raceway, engines revving in anticipation of the start of the race. Fred was clutching at his steering wheel tightly, blinkered only on one thing; winning this one. George however, knew the racers he was up against; some of the best in the NASCAR cup and even some that had been driving as long as he had been alive, was lucky to find himself there, taking a deep breath. George wasn’t a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god to grant him some good luck. 

The green flag waved, signalling the start of the race, each car zooming by as the engines roared. The race was a tough one and everyone watching on knew that. The first ten or so laps went just as smoothly as planned, a backhaul crash in the 18th lap just missing the twins, but nevertheless cutting the number of racers pretty much immediately in half. 

George grew more confident as he crept up the rankings, sitting comfortably in about 6th place for a grand majority of the race, while Fred trailed much behind him in about 8th place. The tension of the conference had truly stumped the older twin, pushing him to want to be up in the top dogs, but to no avail, every attempt was blocked for him. 

The final three laps, George was in fourth and Fred was nowhere to be seen, well sat in his 11th place, seething at his inevitable loss. The younger twin was content with his placing, watching the third place drop down to 5th pushing him into the top 3. George swore he felt every single beat of his heart as he zoomed past the lap line. Two to go. Third place was enough for George, especially in a race like this. He zoomed past the lap line again. White Flag. Last chance.

In a flash, a car from behind George pushed forward, striking the first place car, sending three cars spiralling off the track leaving behind only dust sparks and fire in their tacks. It didn’t click for George that he had passed the finish line in 1st place until it blared through his headset.

“I fucking did what?” He shouted as he continued speeding around the track, the confirmation of his win ringing through his ears as he let out a loud but satisfied yell, the stress of weeks of losses finally leaving him in an exhale, welcoming the new feeling of pride. 

Fred in the heat of the crash had fallen to 12th place, pushing him to be the last of all the cars on the track past the finish line - a loss he was not ready to accept no matter how much pride beamed from him hearing the news that the winner had been his own twin brother. 

—

“George, how does it feel to have a trophy back?” 

“Honestly, it feels so surreal - I’m so grateful for my team, crew, and absolutely amazing fiancée, Y/N - I love you so much, baby,” he shouted over the noise, cameras completely swamping the victory stage and hallway down to the bar. He had everything he could’ve wanted, you, a real win again, happy sponsors - but there was one thing missing.

Fred. Where was Fred? Did it really matter? He knew he hadn’t placed very far, but surely he wouldn’t be that angry would he? But then - no. No, George won, he deserved to win again after Fred had been hogging all the sunny days and he was still supportive. So where was his twin now? Even after everything.

He stopped you on his arm and said: “actually, there is one more person I really do have to thank.” He faced directly towards the camera, you utterly confused.

“Thank you, Freddie, for being the best supportive big brother a guy could ask for. You’ve always been a winner to me.” And with a shaky swallow, knowing he wasn’t here, knowing he probably could give a shit whether George thanked him or not, he went off with you on his arm to have a drink.

God knows he needed it.

—

The older twin sat in the lockers, his elbows resting on his knees, his bare arms and chest tensing periodically with pure and spiteful rage. What the absolute fuck had he done differently? He had been on his highest alert, his most pristine focus, what went wrong? 

He didn’t crash, he didn’t bitch and moan to his pit crew, he didn’t fly off the handle - yet - so why did he get the curt, “I’m sorry, son, we all lose sometimes,” from Vinnie, his new manager like it was just normal. 

Fred Weasley didn’t lose. Especially not after a ten time winning streak, no, he refused. 

So there he sat, knowing his fiancé was probably making excuse after excuse as to why her husband had fled the cameras and the questions, why he wasn’t congratulating his brother on his fantastic win - but he didn’t have the energy to feel guilt. All he felt was loathing. He barely didn’t register the soft clicking of his soon to be wife’s heels clacking against the tile floor. 

“Fred Weasley, what the fuck are you doing naked in the locker room, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said with great exasperation. She looked stunning, in that pretty little two piece skirt and black crop number, not at all like a woman frantically in search of her formula 1 MIA husband. 

“You look great, sweetheart,” he mumbled, barely looking up at her before getting up and turning to his locker, getting out his change of clothes. She watched his back ripple with tension and at the sight alone felt her thighs break for a second.

“So were you planning on telling me where you were or just sulking in here?” 

“I was taking a shower, actually...I don’t get why you’re so pissed at me.” He snapped, not even bothering to turn around. 

“I’m ‘pissed’ at you because your brother loves you and you’re in here acting like a five year old who got his teddy taken away from him.” She retorted. Fred turned around then, slamming the locker door shut for the second time that day, the sound echoing in the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He seemed to punctuate every word in the sentence, but his voice very quiet - too quiet. 

“You’re - just get your clothes on and knock it off, Weasley,” she scoffed, trying to walk off the very minor but very palpable fear she felt, and the evident arousal pooling in her thighs. Fred, unfortunately, knew this, and in Fred fashion, was feeling quite a good many ways about this. 

“Get your ass back here, right now, sweetheart,” he snapped, his volume gaining to a low roar. When she kept on walking to the door, his long legs loped to a brisk walk in front of the doorway, right in front of her. She didn’t realize that she was holding her breath for a second until she exhaled, and his thumb came up to grace her bottom lip.

“Open,” he said quietly, and then she did listen, her lips opening up to his thumb immediately. He always did this mannerism, when he said open he’d open his mouth too, almost showing her how she needed to be before usually saying “theeere, it is” but right now, he was silent, his mouth pressed in a thin line. 

But then she bit. And hard. Pushing him off her and making him gasp, her heels clicked down the tile as fast as she could walk. But Fred wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. In an instant he threw his elongated and toned arm out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the wall, caging her in his hold.

“You’re being an absolute twat, you know that?” She spat. He delicately slapped the side of her face and squeezed her cheeks to form an o.

“And you’re being a prissy little bitch, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” He said harshly, scanning her eyes before yanking her in for a kiss. She immediately released a desperate moan into his mouth and he slid his hand through her hair and all the knots and tangles possible to reach the back of her head. His other hand slid down up her skirt to grope her thigh, hoisting her legs around his waist. 

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, I swear,” she breathed out, before his lips messily met hers. He always kissed with his jaw, she noticed that, when he’d hit his strong jaw out to move with her and nuzzle her face and then she always moaned like she was doing now.

In an instant he was carrying her back towards the shower, the shuffle of so many movements causing the towel around his waist to fall off.

“You ready to take a winner, baby?” 

— 

After a couple of drinks it was safe to say that you and George had gotten a little closer than you usually would have sober. He wasn’t even tipsy, feeling no more than the pride of his win but even with that he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that his girl was practically purring for him while clinging to his arm. You were so desperate to pull him in for a kiss, hell you probably would have let him have you in the hall out of pure lust for your husband-to-be.

It had been so long since you’d seen him smile the way he was now, pride radiating off his skin alongside the heat of his lingering fever, making you remember that not only had he won the hardest race he’d ever driven, but he’d done so while sick. A smirk spread over your lips as you went to push up on your toes, lips pecking a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“What’s that for, angel?” He smiled down at you, his lips now ducking down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“Just a taste of how I’m gonna congratulate my winner later.” You mumbled playfully as his arm snuck around your waist to pull you in tighter, leaning to whisper in your ear as his lips grazed over your earlobe.

“Guess I should think about getting you to bed then, yeah? That what you want bub?” He pulled away from your ear with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

You nodded bashfully, letting him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the rosy hue on his cheeks apparent just from being close to you, in this moment. George didn’t care about the press or his manager or really even the win anymore, not when he had you right in front of him, begging him short of being on your knees. 

He made an excuse, whatever it had to be to get you alone, to get away from the champagne, cameras and chatting. His jacket was draped over your shoulders as you found your way out of the celebration lounge, giggling like teenagers as you walked hand in hand to his car, the echoes of laughter humming around the underground car park before he had you trapped between his body and the passenger side door.

“I can’t wait to get you back to our room.” He mumbled, lips just hovering inches away from yours. His hand slipped just under the hem of your top, his hot touch sending sparks flying through you.

“The things I want you to do to me, Weasley.” You breathed out, hand reaching behind his head to pull his lips down to yours, letting him leave no gaps between you, him and his car. 

“Oh yeah?,” he murmured breathlessly, nose knocking against yours, “Like what, princess? Don’t be shy, we have a whole journey for you to run that pretty mouth of yours.”

“You’ll ruin me one day if you keep talking like that, George.” 

“I think I’ll ruin you tonight instead, love.” 

—

“Freddie, please-“

“No, I’m not stopping until you cum on me, princess, I deserve that much,” he snarled, his cock rippling through her over and over. He had intended on fucking all his anger out on her ever since he pushed her into the shower, everything only mouths and melded hands. 

“Feels - feels so good, Freddie” she whined, her legs barely able to sustain being wrapped around him. His hips whipcracked into her at an entirely new angle, prompting her to mewl and claw at his back like a cat. 

“Oh my poor baby, can she not take my cock? Would another racer do a better job at - “ he pushed deeper into that new spot, her mewls and whines turning to wanton cries. “ - stretching you out instead of me?”

“No one can do this, Fred, I promise, love,” she murmured, her eyes rolling vacantly to the back of her head. He sensed her climax was arriving soon, she was like butter under his hot embrace.

“Look at me,” he growled, squeezing her face and tilting it upwards. “I want to see my prize when she makes a mess everywhere, you hear me, princess?” Her widened eyes bore into his deep chocolate ones and when she finished, she truly could not look at anything else except him, it was always him and only him that made her feel like this. 

“Thaaaat’s it, baby, look at you, being such a dirty little girl for me. You like making messes for me, princess?” He cooed, his soft and caring tone a total opposite to the way he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream and be flush against him. 

“M-mhm,” she murmured, Fred shaking his head as he chuckled, carrying her dripping out of the shower, still inside her. “Do you want me to take you off?” He whispered, the anger still in his throat, but...she would always be more important. Making her feel safe was always important, even in the worst of his rage. Fortunately, she nodded at him and kissed his jaw, a soothing gesture that always meant she loved him, everything was okay, he didn’t hurt her. He smoothed the top of her wet hair down and gave the top of her head a kiss, his ring finger stroking against the centre of her spine.

But then, a certain thought excited him blackly. 

“Baby…who put that ring on you?” He asked pensively. No, he didn’t win that idiotic fucking race, and no, he didn’t beat his brother in this race but - he still won her. He suddenly felt his dick twitch deep inside her and he groaned, clenching his jaw at the sudden awareness of her engagement ring digging into his shoulder. He fully stopped looking at the ground and the towel on the locker hanger, reaching for it and dropping it flat on the ground.

“F-Freddie?” She asked weakly.

“Mhm?”

“What - what are you doing?” She released a high pitch whine at the feeling of Fred twitching again, and at that he flipped her over on the towel, backside up, his cunt and his ass being fully presented to him like that. And then he moaned, his eyes shutting after and his jaw rolling when he saw her buck her ass up to try and meet him wherever he was behind her. 

“God, you are just a good for nothing little Formula 1 whore aren’t you?” He breathed out, his hands sliding to cup her ass and squeezing, relishing in the scarlet rash of skin that came and went with a blink of an eye. 

“You’d like to think so,” she quietly quipped, his hands suddenly freezing on her ass.

“Oh...is that so? Well, then…” and at that he slowly began to squeeze again until she was squirming, then bringing his hand down to the centre of her ass, a loud smack echoing in the room. She cried into the towel and bucked her ass towards him once again. 

“Yes, yes, I’m a Formula 1 whore,” she wept, Fred chuckling and positioning his cock at her entrance, just barely letting his tip brush her cunt.

“What if I just stayed here, hmm? Didn’t even let you have my cock, just gave you a taste of what it would be like to get fucked by me and go use another checkered flag slut instead, that sound good, baby?” He said crisply, trying not to let the tortured feeling of his cock get to him. 

“Fred, I-“ and with a final growl, Fred pushed himself to the brim inside her once more. She cried out his name into the towel, his free hand not bracing himself from behind pushing her head into the towel. He was devouring every noise that came from her mouth, mostly strained cries and pants that registered with every crack of his hips inside her. He felt her near her release again, his as well, his hips losing tempo.

“Gonna marry you and stuff you with aaaall my babies, isn’t that right princess? Gonna make my trophy wife swell up, you won’t be able to even fathom seeing that pretty pussy of yours in the morning” He panted, groaning at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in her - in his - cunt. 

“Please, wanna be so full, of your...of your babies, Fred,” she whimpered, his name falling from her lips like alphabet soup as she, with a final rock of her ass against him, came undone around him. He gripped her hips and with a sharp “I love you, fuck” followed her in the same way, his hips rolling ever so gently back into her to soothe their highs.

After a moment he pulled out of her, dismantling the baby hairs sticking to her forehead out the way, pressing kiss after kiss there. 

“Weasley, you got any car plush toys on you by chance?” She quipped, prompting a grin from Fred and a chaste kiss to her lips and nose.

“No, but the Babies R Us near home might…”

—

The second you were parked up, George had his hand snaked around the back of your neck pulling you in to peck your lips over and over, warm and comforting giggles slipping from your lips between every kiss. The trip up to your room took twice the time it would usually take, stopping frequently to evade the hotel staff, as well as missing your floor entirely in the elevator; too distracted by the taste of his lips and the way his hands gripped desperately at your hips.

Once well inside your hotel room, you found yourself underneath him, hair sprawled out beneath you as he marvelled at your beauty. A toothy grin spread across his lips before his head ducked down to press a kiss just below your ear, sucking a deep purple mark against your warm skin as a giggle erupted through his throat, the vibrations causing you to do the same, hands pressed against his shoulders to push him away. 

“Good lord, woman, I love you.” He breathed out, his lips moving to press a kiss to your forehead. You sighed out a moan as his fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric up as he pushed it up your torso and over your bra, exposing the plain but gorgeous lace.

His lips soon pressed against your exposed skin, sucking mark after mark down the valley of your breasts, humming in satisfaction at the way you writhed beneath him as your hands wove through his soft, ginger locks, tousling them perfectly as you giggled together.

“You may have won today, Georgie, but I’m winning now.” You whined, keeping him pulled close to you as his free hand snuck just underneath the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing against your sensitive clit as he swallowed each and every moan, taking pleasure in slipping the flimsy lace to the side to sink his fingers into you quickly and with no mercy, letting you chant his name as you begged for more. 

It didn’t take much for him to oblige, hardly pulling away from you to slip his cock free, teasing your entrance for a moment before he was pushing slowly into you, letting you get used to the feeling of the first few inches, only for him to pull back out, chuckling darkly at the way you writhed against the sheets. “Baby please, don’t tease me like that.” 

He pouted mockingly, dipping his head down to press a slow and intimate kiss to your lips, nose nudging against yours before he mumbled into the kiss, letting you lean into it. “As you wish, princess.” 

Almost all at once, you felt him move your hips to the right position, continuing to tease you as he sank slowly into you, not daring to pull away again as he eyed the way your face contorted with pleasure, your hands slipping under the thin t-shirt, he wore, pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room, your nails dragging down the freshly exposed skin, pulling a groan from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you so deep, bub, gonna make you scream and give you a baby.” He groaned, hands pressing your head down to the mattress as he cradled it, hot breath fanning over your face as his slow thrusts pulled moan after moan from you.

His strong arm hooked underneath you, pulling you up and into his chest, as his hips continued in pushing in and out of you at the most antagonising pace. He smirked at the way your head immediately fell to rest on his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut from the new angle. 

“Bet you’re loving this aren’t you? Not so bold anymore, angel.” His gravelly voice rumbled through your ear, hand gripping that little bit tighter as he felt your small shallow breaths growing deeper at the intensely slow lovemaking you were far from expecting tonight.

“I’m still bold.” You whispered, nudging forward to pull his earlobe between your teeth before peppering sloppy, wet kisses along his neck.

“Funny one, love.” He smirked, beginning to pick the pace up a notch, enough to bring the hanging release down on you, pushing you to be clenching around him as you begged for it. “I knew you’d like that.”

He had a way of completely dumbfounding you, making you lost for words, finding yourself against the sheets fully again, this time he had hooked your legs over his shoulders only to lean down and press his lips to yours, all the time his skilled fingers toyed with your clit. 

You felt as if every sense had been awoken, stimulated by his very touch like a fire had been lit around you, pulling you into the embrace of the flames as you found yourself screaming his name, the inevitable high falling over you.

“That’s it, baby, doing so good for me…” He breathed heavily, his lips pressing to your forehead as he continued to ride out your high, his own release painting your walls as he fucked it into you, pulling true on his promise of filling you up.

You felt so full, his love washing through you from head to toe as he lazily kissed you, slipping your legs off his shoulders to pull you back into his arms, keeping himself bottomed out inside of you. 

“I’m dead serious about giving you a baby, princess.” He chuckled, hand trailing up and down your back as he traced languid shapes into your soft skin.

“Good, I’m dead serious about having your baby.”

—

Fred knocked on the door, his foot tapping on the carpet outside George’s hotel room. He was always a fidgety man, but today would be all too different for the eldest Weasley twin. 

He knocked once more, altogether considering just going home and leaving a lengthy but probably nonsense voicemail, if not entirely fueled by alcohol then by sheer force of nature that was his fiancé alone. 

He had decided on giving up, his legs stretching as he turned around. But then the door opened, the equally messy haired ginger behind it looking so much calmer and more serene than Fred ever could. 

“Heya, Georgie,” Fred breathed out. George would never have said it out loud, but Fred looked like absolute death. He could tell his older brother had gotten little to no sleep, his eyes sunken in. He knew Fred was hurting, and George never was one to rub it in. If anything, George would always be the one who understood him the most, they rarely ever had to apologize to each other for things like this, their souls simply understanding when pain was evident. 

“Morning, Freddie…” George spoke warmly, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, smiling lazily at his twin as he pondered his next move. “D’you wanna come in?” 

“Yeah...yeah, that’d be nice,” he swallowed, smiling softly at his slightly younger (but in many ways, much older) twin. 

George stepped aside, letting his brother in as he shut the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together, a smile that rounded his cheeks on his face as he sensed the awkwardness in the room. This wasn’t like them at all. “Everyone missed you yesterday, Fred, parties aren’t the same without you.”

“As in, no one drank all the rum and Coke at the party without me is what I’m hearing?” He cracked a small smile, attempting to avoid as much eye contact with Georgie that wasn’t necessary. 

“George, I’m so sorry.” He said softly, his jaw stilling. 

“You don’t have to apologise, Fred.”

“No, but I do. I...I know how special being behind the wheel is to you, and you’re right. I don’t know what it means to win, at least not like you, and...George, you’re my best friend, stupid.” He aggressively wiped under his eyes. “I want to be happy for you and lately I haven’t even been thankful for you and that isn’t fair, mate, I...I love you. So much.”

“I feel like I was losing you there, Freddie, I’ve hardly seen you, we don’t talk unless it’s a press conference and just… Fuck I hate this, I miss being able to call you and talk about all the dumb things we can do together.” George sighed, looking up to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling.

Fred’s, however, were already hitting the ground. “I hate it too, Georgie...I hate it so much. It’s fun, being a racer like you - with you - but I just...I want to fix your tires again, man” he tearfully chuckled, watching George do the same. “I want to say stupid shit like ‘baby brother, your blinker fluid is out’ over the headset and listen to you cuss me out, and I want to be able to know I’m still on your team at the end of the day.” He curled his lip inward. “That’s all I’ve wanted. Is to be on your team.” 

“You have no idea what it’s like to win without you, when you’re out there making sure that everything is okay I just know my big brother is there looking out for me and I miss it, I miss telling everyone that it was you who made it possible, Freddie, you’re my star man.” George smiled, scratching his arm nervously, wanting nothing more than for things to be like old times.

Fred let out a breathy laugh, his eyes still brimming with fresh tears. “I’m the last one to thank, you big wanker, I don’t drive the damn thing constantly, that’s all you and your foolishness.” He swallowed. “I just...if you’ll have me back, I already talked to the Wood Brothers and everything but um...there’s a deal where I would be able to also drive once a month or so, and be your Pit Crew Pit Bull the other races. If that was okay with you - I want to be there with you again.” His knee bounced in the silence, his guilt and fear bouldering in his throat.

“I’d want nothing more than to have you back, I think it’ll be good for you to still stay driving, you have to get that adrenaline fill somewhere… I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you, proud of what you’ve achieved.” George smiled, the toothy grin brightening up the room as the awkwardness seemed to fade. “Even though you do become a cocky bastard sometimes.” 

Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes. “One does not become a cocky bastard, Georgie-kins, one is a cocky bastard...also, I have to be,” he said getting up and moving to where George was sitting. “if I’m going up against my snot-nosed little brother who’s getting married and is going to expect me to babysit for a thousand hateful children,” he waggled his eyebrows and threw a pillow at him. “But thank you...I mean that. You know you’re easily the best on that track every time. Every time. I’m...I'm proud to be your twin, Georgie.”

“I don’t know how I survived without your brilliant humour gracing us all, Freddie, I truly missed the inspiring wit,” George chuckled, gently nudging his twin with his fist, “After all, you’re not too bad of a brother to have, not everyone can be me but you’re as close as anyone’s gonna get.” He smirked, eyebrow raised as he looked over to his twin.

“I truly am so distraught I did not destroy you in the womb when I had the shot, but here’s to the wish anyway,” full on slamming George in the face with the pillow and howling at the action. “Top that, bitch,” he barked.

“It’s on now.” George laughed, throwing the pillow back at his brother, sending an eruption of laughter echoing around the hotel room, the two boys flinging cushions around like there was no tomorrow.

But the laughter didn’t end, only continuing as loud roars and giggles as time passed. You found yourself swinging your legs out of bed, trudging towards the source of the noise, only to find feathers everywhere and the twins laughing together in a childlike manner. “Could the two of you be any more loud?” 

“Sorry, baby… didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N.” Fred chimed in.

“You’re damn lucky it isn’t early, Weasley.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled off towards the warm embrace of the morning shower, thankful to see the twins as they should be, happy and together once again.

A/N //  so phia and i have pretty much decided that we’re gonna keep this going so... part IV coming sooooon ;))))

taglist // @slytherinsunrise @gcdricreads @theweasleysredhair @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @whizboingies @pansydaisy @darthwheezely @lumos-barnes @starlightweasley @valwritesx @weelittleweasley​

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Nanny  ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

GENRE: Angst, established relationship, slice of life, married life, family au

PAIRING: Jungkook x fem reader

Hiring a nanny was supposed to be beneficial to both you and Jungkook, you were heavily pregnant with your third child so having a nanny seemed like a good option but looking back on it now it didn't seem like it to you. Irene was lovely at first but the longer she worked for you and Jungkook the more you began to grow insecure about her. It wasn't like she wasn't good at her job she was fantastic, the best nanny someone could ever wish for but she was this 5''5 perfectly toned woman with jet black hair. Breathtakingly beautiful and young, everything that you weren't anymore. 

The 24-year-old had moved into the house that you and Jungkook owned so that she could help look after the kids while Jungkook was at the studios throughout the day. Her job was basically to become like an older sister to your daughter and son, helping you around the house with things that you weren't able to do. 7-months pregnant meant you couldn't do as much as you used to with the kids and she would help to step in whenever things needed doing. Another thing that being heavily pregnant do was making you feel as though you weren't good enough for Jungkook. Whenever he would try to be affectionate with you, you would blow off his advances and ignore them. It wasn't because you weren't interested because of course, you were, he'd been your husband for twenty years. You were hopelessly in love with him and always would be but it was because you didn't feel good enough. The hormones were always playing on your emotions making you feel worse than you needed to. Making you overthink every small little detail going on around you.

"Mrs Jeon?" You turned around from reading to your youngest daughter to see the nanny getting ready to leave for the night. 

"Yes, Irene?" As you looked at her you took in her appearance and your mouth could have dropped open. She looked insanely beautiful, more so than usual. Her long hair was curled perfectly and she was standing there in one of the tightest black dresses you'd ever seen. Irene smiled softly at you as she looked at your daughter who was almost asleep in your arms, 

"I was just coming to tell you I'll be at my boyfriend's this weekend if you or Mr Jeon need me you have my number." Her boyfriend, you'd met him a couple of times and neither you nor Jungkook approved of her taste in men but it wasn't your place to say something to her since she wasn't your daughter. It wasn't as though he was a bad guy it was just a bit of a jerk, never picked her up or dropped her off in her car and would make her pay for 99% of their dates despite him earning more than she did. 

"That's fine, I think we should be okay. Jungkook has the weekend off," You whispered as you daughter crawled into her bed to fall asleep, both you and Irene stepped out of the room and began heading down the stairs. She walked down the staircase first being careful not to fall or make too much noise since your son was already asleep in his bed.

"Are you going to dinner tonight?" You asked as you watched her putting on some high heeled shoes, Jungkook walked over to you when he heard your voice and smiled wrapping his arms around your waist to greet you. 

"You look lovely tonight, date night?" Shivers ran through your body as he complimented her, your brain instantly reminding you of how many times he used to compliment you and that he no longer did it. 

"Yes! I'm meeting San at the restaurant." She announced happily as she picked up a bag ready to get into the cab that was outside waiting for her but Jungkook stepped in. 

"You're catching a cab?" Jungkook unwrapped his arms from around you and began shaking his head at her.  

"Yeah. It's no big-" As she was about to tell him it was no big deal he interrupted her, insisting he would take her.

"I'll take you. Y/n go get in a bath while I take Irene to her date. You're not catching a cab this late at night," Without giving you a chance to tell him to stay here Irene and Jungkook were out of the door leaving you behind as you stared at the front door. 

"Sure. Take her." You mumbled as you kicked the floor, turning around to make your way to the bathroom to have a relaxing bath. 

"Did she get to the restaurant alright?" You asked as Jungkook came into the bathroom and started rubbing your shoulders. He'd been gone for almost an hour so you assumed the restaurant was far away. Jungkook rubbed circles into your skin as he kissed the top of your head,

"She got stood up, she's in her room crying. San broke up with her in the car over text," He sighed as he continued to massage your shoulders but you just shrugged his touch away from you. The thought of them being out of the house alone together for the last hour was starting to seem unsettling to you. She was in such a nice dress and she was stunning, you wouldn't blame Jungkook if he'd thought about her before. 

"Turn around while I get out?" Jungkook sighed at you as he looked into your eyes, trying to convince you that you didn't have to hide your body from him.

"I've seen you naked before Y/n-" He tried to speak to you but you shook your head,

"That was before I carried three children, covered in stretch marks and my boobs started to sag." You cut him off harshly and he shook his head at you turning away as he mumbled something under his breath that you couldn't hear.

"Not all of us can be twenty-something and be stick thin Jungkook! I'm sorry I don't flaunt my body for you to see anymore!" You yelled a little too loudly as you wrapped the dressing gown around your body but Jungkook turned to look at you ready to ask what everything was about when he caught on. 

"Irene isn't flaunting her body for me to see," He told you as he looked at you shaking his head at the thought of himself even looking at Irene as anything more than a daughter in his eyes. 

"Well she's not walking around the house on the weekends in nothing but a shirt and booty shorts for me is she?" As soon as you snapped at him he knew what was going on in your head but you just pulled yourself away from him and headed to the main bedroom.

The next morning Jungkook was sitting in the kitchen with a large mug of coffee, he'd spent the night on the sofa wanting to give you space to think over what you had said. 

"I'm sorry." You mumbled as you walked into the kitchen to kiss his cheeks, you'd spent most of the night thinking about how long you and Jungkook had been together. The amount you'd been through when he was younger, he would never leave you just because you were pregnant and weren't as active together as you used to be. 

"I promise there's nothing going on between us, she's like a daughter to me...I'm going to shower." He whispered as he kissed you lovingly on the lips, you smiled as you felt the same sparks you had over the years. 

"I'll shower, change and we can take the kids to the park. Sound good?" You hummed in response to him and he wandered off towards the bathroom. Irene coming into the kitchen not long after him in nothing but a hoodie and some shorts. 

"I'm sorry about San," You told her as you began to pour her some coffee and yourself some tea, trying to play nice with her as you thought back on what Jungkook said. Nothing more than a daughter to him. 

"It's no big deal. Plenty of fish in the sea," She smiled at you looking around the kitchen, 

"Where's Mr Jeon?" She questioned as she put her hair up into a bun, showing off her neck to you as you watched her. Along her pale skin was several deep purple marks up and down it. 

"H-He went for a shower, did you end up going out last night?" You stared down into the mug trying not to let your mind go where it was going but it was too late. Irene smirked as she looked at you, 

"No." She took the mug from your hands before turning to leave the room. Those marks weren't on her neck the night before she left so there was only one way she would have gotten them.

"Babe?" Jungkook asked as he walked into the kitchen to look for his phone, as soon as you heard his voice you dropped the mug onto the floor letting it shatter into pieces and splash the scolding liquid up your skin. 

"Mrs Jeon?!" Irene's voice ran through your body like nails on a chalkboard as you looked at her in the doorway and then to Jungkook who was standing in front of you in nothing but a towel with a concerned look splashed across his face. 

"I see her as a daughter?!" You asked as the pregnancy hormones took over your brain, pointing over at Irene who's neck was still on full display for everyone to see if they wanted to.

"What are you talking about-" Jungkook stopped himself when he turned to see the marks on her neck, his eyes widening as Irene sent him a playful smirk. 

"Baby. No. I would never do anything like that to you," He reassured you as he stepped closer to you but you stepped back away from him yelling at him not to touch you. 

"I-I get it! I get it! I mean I'm pregnant, why wouldn't you want to go off and be with someone like her," You mumbled as you watched Irene wander into the room, attempting to clean up everything that was on the floor but Jungkook snapped at her to get out of the room and leave you alone. 

"But you could get her," She whined out, placing her hands onto Jungkook's chest as he stared at her, 

"Don't act like something is going on in front of my wife, there is absolutely nothing going on and there never will be." He moved away from her touch and she glared at him, 

"I'm so much better though, you could have me...You won't need someone who's pregnant, she hasn't let you touch her in months. I know that for a fact." Tears began to roll down your face at the thought of her knowing every detail about what was going on between you and Jungkook. The truth was before you began to grow jealous of her you'd confided in her about your insecurities towards Jungkook. How you hadn't slept with him or even let him hold you since getting pregnant with your third child, you thought you could trust her. 

"So what? I love her! I would never throw away a twenty-year relationship with her because she won't let me touch her." He snapped once again and you watched him as he handed Irene a wet cloth, 

"Rub that shit off your neck. You're fired." The colour drained from Irene's face as she stared at Jungkook and then to the cloth in his hands. 

"You can't fire me-"

"I can, I did and you signed an NDL so you can't talk to the press about anything you heard in this house without being sued. Wipe it off your neck, pack and leave." You stared at Jungkook as he looked over at you, Irene rubbing her neck to remove the purple stains throwing the cloth into the sink as she stormed off. 

As soon as Irene was out of the house Jungkook locked the doors and turned to look at you, 

"I would never do anything like that to you Y/n, ever...I'm sorry I didn't see what she was doing until now." You shook your head at him as he brought you into a tight embrace, 

"I'm sorry I assumed something was happening," You laughed weakly as you kissed his chest,

"I love you," He kissed the top of your head 

"Yeah mum we love you," You turned behind him to see your daughter holding onto your son's hand as she helped him down the staircase. 

"I love you guys too, shall we all go to the park?" You asked as you watched their faces light up at the mention of going to the park together. 

"Go and change, I'll get dressed and we can go have a picnic." You told them as they both began to climb back up the staircase towards their bedrooms, 

"I'll go and help," Jungkook whispered as he kissed your lips lovingly, heading up the stairs after the kids.

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @rjsmochii​ @bisexualmess007​ @innersooya​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​

[dabiboy]

Hawks and reader are both virgins, doing it for the first time ! The mans busy, he hasn’t got a chance to smash yet 😆

I’m so so so so sorry this one took me ages 😭 I finished it just now, after like two weeks, hope you enjoy it!

[Warnings: NSFW, protected sex, virgin Hawks and reader, curses] Word count: 4343.

Free Fall 

''I really don't understand why did we have to travel all around the globe to see a suspect.'' You whined as you left the bags in the middle of Keigo's apartment.

''Commission rules, you know how they are kid. Can't tell them no'' Keigo walked across the apartment stretching his wings wide, it was lucky that he didn't break anything.

You and Hawks worked together, you were not trained by the commission but they were aware of your abilities, and decided that you and Hawks should work with each other. And that's how you ended traveling to California, but the guys they had checked was just a suspect, and it turned out that he had nothing to do with your case, so in order not to waste more time you had to fly back all the way to Japan. And there you were, feeling tired as hell in Hawk's apartment.

''I hate them so much'' You said again, taking your shoes off. ''Mind if I take a shower?''

''Go ahead, and you need it. You stink'' Keigo teased as he let himself fall on the couch.

You were not only working partners, but the two of you were also very good friends, trusting enough to ask him to get a shower. And even borrowing one of his shirts without asking him. So that's what you did when you got out. The bathroom was inside his room, so the first thing you saw when you got out was the large and comfy bed. Damn, you wish you could just lay there and have some good sleep. His bedroom was rather big, kinda messy but tidy at the same time, and it smelled like him, his perfume and scent. Maybe it was a bird thing, you thought. But it wasn't uncomfortable, on the contrary. It was nice.

After picking a random Keigo's shirt, you went back to the living room, and the blonde man's eyes went wide at your image. His shirt too big for your body, covering almost half of your thighs. Naked thigs. Maybe later you were going to ask him for a sweatpant.

"Earth to Hawks?" You called him with a smile by the third time. "You good?"

"What? Yeah, I just love that shirt" he could say.

"Oh, should I take it off? I don't mind"

"No, keep it on. It looks good on you" he scratched the back of his head as he stood up "I will take a shower too. Are you crushing here tonight or want me to fly you home? It is pretty late though"

"Oh, I'm not a damsel in distress, winged hero" you lifted an eyebrow "but I was thinking of staying, I feel too lazy to go out. Besides it is cold as hell" you pouted.

"Oh shut up" Keigo let out a low chuckle "Ok then, make yourself home" that was the last thing he said before heading to the bathroom.

The truth was, that things between you were kind of complicated. You had a crush on him, but you were good at hiding it. How could you not fall for someone like him? He was funny, caring, handsome, a bit of an asshole but that was part of his charm. However, you knew him a bit more than the rest. You had seen him worried after you got injured on a mission, or sad whenever he had failed. Or done something he wasn't proud of. You even knew his real name, but it was not common to call him like that.

But it thinking about it was not making things different. He was a busy man, and he should have an army of women behind him, there was no way he had the same feelings for you. You were just friends. That's it.

Minutes went by, and after drying your hair you went back to Hawk's room, it was about time to borrow those sweat pants. However, you got distracted when you saw the view from his room; the entire city shining at your feet. Your eyes went bright to at such beauty.

"What are you looking at?" A Keigo dressed in a tank top and grey sweatpants took you out of your thoughts.

"The city looks so pretty from here" you smiled "so many lights and colors. Don't you get distracted when you fly?"

"Yeah, sometimes when I'm just patrolling. Most times I don't even pay attention to it. To busy fighting the bad guys y'know" he laughed and stood next to you. ''It is not as bright as your smile, though'' Did he think his words? he didn't.

You felt your cheeks getting a bit red, what did he mean by that? He had it so clear. Since the day you walked into his office, he felt his blood rushing through his veins, the need to talk to you, to get to know you overwhelmed him. There was no way a jerk like him could get close to you. But it changed when you started working together, and it was as if two pieces of a puzzle finally found each other, working in perfect sync.

He looked back at you, a shy smile still plastered on his face. It isn't worth it to tell her how I feel, she must have a lot of guys waiting for her, Keigo thought. Or maybe he should risk it all, fuck it.

''Y/n? I-You'' He stopped ''You're the best sidekick I've had'' That was a compliment? You're an idiot, Hawks. He said to himself.

''Well, thank you. You make it easier though'' You gave him a sided smile as you left a strand of your hair behind your ear.

''Yeah, anytime'' Keigo smiled back at you.

There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you. His golden eyes were stuck on yours as yours were on his. You could swear he was analyzing every detail of your face, and you couldn't help but make your eyes take a little trip on his facial traits too. Smiles vanished as both of you realized what was happening, yet no one wanted to talk about it. Or let it out. Finally, Keigo parted his lips to let out some words but he got interrupted by his phone ringing.

''Shit, sorry. Gotta take this one'' He apologized, turning away from you quickly in an attempt of hiding his blush. He hated whoever was calling.

In the meantime, you let out a sight. It was the first time he had been so close to you, so close it was possible to see the definition of his stubble, a stronger color in his eyes, details that daily were unnoticed. Maybe you were crazy and those were hallucinations.

Getting away from your thoughts, you got closer to the big window, resting your hands on it as you look down drawn by the lights. But you had no idea that the window was not closed. Keigo left it open when he got out the last time. And there you were. Everything happened in a split of a second, the big window opening, you feeling the weight of your body being pulled down by gravity, Keigo ending his call and turning back at you. His eyes went wide and his wings puffed immediately.

That was it? That was the end of your life as a hero and as a human being? All those years of intense training were vanishing in a second. What the hell could you do if you were free-falling?

But there was one detail you forgot. Hawks was there.

His reflexes worked on time when he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you back in with the help of his wings to get the right amount of strength. He couldn't lose you, not before telling you everything he felt.

You ended up falling anyway, but not from the last floor of the building. You fell right on the floor, over the winged hero who had you secure in his arms. Keigo's wings hurt when he fell with his back on the floor, but you were fine. That's all he cared about.

''Shit kid, you good?'' He asked you, panic still present in his voice as he looked at you.

''Yes, damn that was so quick'' You let out a nervous laugh, and waited for a few seconds for him to set you free from his strong grip. ''Uhm, Hawks? You can-You can let me go now'' This time there was no nervousness from almost falling, they were because of the little distance that was between the two of you, the way his hands felt on your back and how his body felt against yours. Suddenly, his body started shivering lightly, and the following words just slipped out of his mouth.

''No, I can't. I really fucking can't... Ever'' He whispered that last word.

''What do you me-''

''Fuck it''

That was all you could hear before he slammed his lips on yours. It was a messy and shy kiss, but you felt even dizzier than when you were about to fall. He tasted like mint, and the way his stubble tickled your chin felt amazing. Your lips moved softly against him, in an attempt to calm him down.

''I like you. I fucking like you, y/n'' He said, eyes pleading for a positive answer ''I can't let you go cause I don't wanna be away from you. I just can't''

''Hawks...'' You whispered ''I-''

''Listen, you don't have to say it back. I know you must have lots of guys waiting for you, and better than me. With normal lives and-'' This time, you interrupted him crashing your lips with his one more time.

''I like you too, and there's no one else'' You said when your lips were still slightly touching ''You never leave my head, Hawks''

If someone were looking at that scene, they could notice the tension from miles away. And then they would ask, why do they keep wasting time? Hawks lifted his head to kiss you once more, this time eagerly. His hands found home on your hips as you softly rested your hands on his chest.

You felt your heart racing, it was the first time you found yourself in such a circumstance. It felt odd yet familiar, you didn't want it to stop. Daringly and as if it was an agreement the kiss turned into a heated one, his tongue caressing yours with need but with shyness.

''Call me Keigo'' He whispered as he sat on the floor, wings wide open.

You tangled your legs on his waist, feeling totally unsure about it. Was he comfortable? Was it like that? Those feelings and emotions you were experiencing, were normal? Thousands of questions roamed through your head as you continued kissing him. And then you felt it again, his hands shivering on your hips.

''You okay?'' You asked him tenderly, a hand caressing his cheek.

''Yeah, it's just...'' He looked away, hiding from your eyes. ''I've never...'' His golden eyes were looking at you again. Embarrassed, shy, and even scared. ''Damn, this must be so depressing'' Keigo scoffed, drifting his eyes away one more time. However, you felt a relief inside of you. And you couldn't help laughing a bit awkwardly.

''It's fine, I... I haven't either'' You shrugged your shoulders, his eyes lighted up looking up at you.

''Really?'' you nodded ''We can stop it here, though. I can go take another shower and-'' You shut him up again.

''I want you'' a whisper left your lips, sending shivers down his spine. You could feel now his hard crotch against you and your cheeks turned red.

''Are you sure you want me to be your first?'' Keigo's voice was almost unhearable, and you melt in tenderness when he caressed the back of your head with such affection.

''Are you sure?'' You laughed nervously.

''Totally'' His smile could brighten an entire city, and that night it was shining just for you. He moved a bit, creating friction between you and him. You let out a surprised yet pleasing whimper ''Shit, sorry''

''Don't worry, isn't that what is this all about?'' You laughed again.

''Yeah, you're right'' A kiss on your chin ''Come here''

He lifted you with ease so he could lay you down on his bed. And it was as comfortable as you thought it was. After a long struggle of getting rid of Keigo's shirt between laughs and jokes, he was kissing you tenderly and fiercely, feeling his own body shiver under your touch. You took the time to appreciate his body. It was not as muscular as other pro heroes, but his muscles were still well defined.

His lips on your neck feel like heaven, the way he kissed and lick your kiss had you wanting more, but the fear and the doubt were there too. And he could feel the exact same thing. Keigo's shaking hand move to the end of the shirt you were wearing. Once it was off, you tried to cover yourself. You were supposed to sleep in the guest's room that night, therefore wearing a bra after a long trip was not the best idea, but nothing said that you were going to be under Keigo's body.

He sat on his knees looking at you, jaw hanging low as he licked his lips.

''Shit, your gorgeous'' You heard him say as he crawled back to you again, kissing your mouth ''Can I touch you?'' His voice was still low, and even though he was trying to keep it cool the way his body was reacting was betraying him.

''Of course'' You said biting your lower lip.

His hand moved down until it reached your breast, cupping it delicately. He let out a sigh over your lips when he felt your hardening nipple against his palm. The slow squeezes were amazing. You were human, you had needs. You had done that before trying to stimuli yourself, but his touch was nothing compared to his. His was magical.

''I want to...'' Keigo said to himself as he lowered his face towards your chest. He licked your nipple and you moaned loud enough for him to hear it. He repeated his actions, kissing the underside of your breasts, sucking them tenderly, and trying to make you feel good. And God he was wishing he was doing it well. As he carried on with his not so shy ministrations, your hands touched his torso, feeling his warm skin on your hands. It was possible to feel his hard length pressing against your thighs, and surrendering to the temptation you played with the edge of his pants.

''Is it Ok if I-''

''Please do'' His voice came out a few octaves low as he went back to kiss your neck.

Carefully you slid one hand inside of his sweatpants, and he wasn't wearing underwear. How convenient. You gripped his hard cock on your hand, and your mouth went open in surprise. It was thick. And long. You gulped as you started moving your hand up and down, blushing when he bucked his hips.

''You can do it a bit tighter'' He said with a shy smile, and you did what he said ''Fuck, yes. Just like that''

The way his heavy breath was on your ear was working you up faster than you thought. And instinctively you moved your hips towards him as well. Keigo used one hand to get in between the two bodies, sliding his middle finger down your slit, trembling at how wet you were. It felt nothing like the porn videos he used to watch on the nights he needed some relief. A moan escaped your lips when you felt his finger on you, moving slow and even a bit fearfully.

In an attempt of digging your free hand on his back, it landed on one of his wings. They weren't as sharpened as you used to see them whenever he was fighting or patrolling, they were soft. You moved your hands through the feathers, but just when you did an erotic moan left his throat.

''Fuck don't do that, I won't last long if you touch my wings'' His voice was tight, making you knew that it was a sensitive area.

''Sorry'' You said, kissing his jaw ''They're just so soft'' The way you spoke in his ear sent shivers down his spine again, and as you kept stroking him he said in between breaths.

''I need you'' His voice was low but filled with excitement at the same time.

''Do you have a-'' Keigo finished for you.

''A condom, shit. Yes I do''

He suddenly remembered. Every single feeling was overwhelming him, it was the very first time he was in such a situation with a woman, and not with any woman. With you, the one who stole his breath from the very first time, the one that took care of his wounds, the one he tried to protect every day.

He stood up from the bed quickly, moving to the nightstand that was next to it. Nervously he looked among all the useful and useless things, and then he found them. Keigo remembered that night clearly, how one of his drunks friends at the party held in his apartment had told him to use them with some hot chick, but instead, he just kept them on the nightstand. To busy to do that while he was saving the world.

Going back to the bed he sat on his knees right in front of you. His chest was cleary moving up and down as he stared at you, and you could tell you were looking the same. Shy, exposed, uncertainty in your head, but confidence was in your head too. You trusted him with your life, and your feelings for him were strong. You just had to take that leap of faith. That free-falling.

''I will... Can I take them off?'' Keigo asked, looking at your still clothed sex.

''Yes'' you managed to say, feeling your face burn in embarrassment.

Carefully, he slipped the cotton piece down your legs, making you completely exposed to him. Your breathing became erratic, what was he going to think? Was it ok? But his eyes, his eyes were yelling his thoughts. They looked brighter, and the golden melted in them seemed shinier than never. Keigo licked his lips and swallowed at the image in front of him, and almost as a primal instinct he slid a finger on your wetness, making you and him moan.

''Fuck you're so wet'' He murmured, repeating his actions.

''Is that good?'' you asked timidly and a humming sound was made with your throat when he slid a finger along your cunt again.

''As far as I know, it is'' He laughed nervously. It was calming to know you weren't the only one feeling like that.

Your eyes went wide when he pulled his pants down, his cock sprang free from its confines, and just as you felt it when you stroke it earlier it was thick and long, not extremely big but it had a good size. And honestly a scary one for a first time. Even for him. With shaky hands Keigo opened the silver package, and after fast seconds he rolled the condom down his length.

''Ok,'' He took a deep breath, leaning close to you again. You moan when his erection rubbed your entrance, and you could feel your heart beating like crazy inside your chest. ''You sure about this?'' Keigo asked one last time.

''I am,'' You said ''But be gentle'' You said holding your breath for a short while.

''Sure thing'' He said above your lips ''I'm not less nervous than you are'' Keigo laughed, and the sound of it felt like peace among the sea of emotions you were at. ''I don't wanna screw this up'' Now he looked at you, eyes full with concern.

''It doesn't have to be perfect'' You reassured him, caressing his face, making him nod like an excited child who was trying to hide their emotion.

''I'm gonna do it'' A kiss on your lips ''Just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, ok?''

After agreeing with his statement you looked at him getting on his knees again, pulling you closer to him. He spread your legs once he was in between them and with a shallow breath he grabbed his length, aligned it on your entrance. Softly he pushed his hips towards you, and a sharp pain made you close your eyes.

''Shit, are you good?'' Keigo stopped his motions immediately, not even thinking about the heat taking over his body.

''Yeah, you can go on'' You said clenching your jaw, adjusting to him.

He moved his hips a bit more, and a loud moan filled your ears. That felt a lot better than his hand. Keigo kept pushing slowly, hating the fact that he was hurting you. But it was supposed to stop, wasn't it? You moaned again, this time with a mix of pain and pleasure.

''Fuck your big'' You managed to say, closing your eyes again as he started to pull out slowly again.

''Sorry, not my fault'' He joked to lighten the mood. He bit his lower lips trying to oppress another moan. And without even pulling out completely he thrust inside you again, as slow as the first lunge. ''I... I need to move'' He said, closing his eyes with strength too.

You gave him a nod right after digging your fingers on his shoulders. Keigo's hips started moving again, a soft and steady pace as he was filing you up. He cursed at the feeling, so warm and so tight, he thought. It was hard to keep that steady pace with each thrust, but he waited. Waited until you felt comfortable enough.

The pain was becoming less by the second, at it was being replaced with pleasure. He felt so good, all of him. Not only the way he felt inside you, but the comfortable weight of his body on top of yours, his fresh scent after the shower, the praises he was whispering in your ear, all of that was bigger than the pain you felt with those first movements. And you loved it. It was with one specific thrust he hit the perfect spot, making you throw your head back and moan loudly, tangling your legs on his waist.

''More'' You said.

Maybe it was your instincts talking, but you didn't care. You wanted him, all of him.

Keigo's movements became sloppier, messier. He had never felt that way before, but it was amazing. And the truth was, that he wanted more as well. He moaned lowly, burying his face in your neck as he started pounding faster and deeper. You felt that tension building in your lower stomach, and when he twitched inside of you something tell you it was about to end.

''Fuck I'm close'' He said with a drowned voice.

''Do it, Keigo'' You caressed the back of his head while you whispered in his ear, the coldness of his earing feeling better than it should. How could a simple detail make you shiver?

Your hand traveled down his neck, to his back, and then to his wings. Another loud moan escaped his lips when your fingers dug in his feathers, playing softly with them. Lots of 'fucks' were leaving Keigo's mouth, and moans were leaving yours when he needly sped up.

And there it was. Something hit you, and it sent you right to the place where you could see the music and listen to the colors. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, bucked his hips towards him as you fell into a void of just pleasure.

Keigo bit your neck as a growl was made with his throat, his hips still moving a bit as he came undone. His sweaty forehead landed on yours, and he couldn't control the urge to kiss you deeply.

''You good?'' He asked when he ran out of breath.

''Never been better'' You said with a lazy smile on your face, making him chuckle.

''I lasted too little'' Keigo almost apologized, as if that was a bad thing. Once again you caressed his face, pulling him in for another kiss.

''It was perfect'' You whispered in between his lips.

''Was it?'' A tiny smile appeared on his face ''Stay tomorrow. Let's have lunch, like a proper date. What do ya' say, mhm?'' He said, using the tip of his nose to trace your cheek.

''It was'' You assured him. Eyes went wide in joy and surprise at his proposal ''You won't be able to get rid of me, then'' You lifted an eyebrow in an attempt of being cocky but laughing right after.

''Fine with me'' Now it was him the one who was smiling cockily. His lips were on your again, smiling between the kiss. ''I guess you're not staying in the guest's room tonight, right?'' He looked at you, using his arms to make you free from his weight. He pulled out, and the two of you moaned lowly again.

''I wouldn't even think about it, I've been wanting to cuddle with you for so long'' You admitted making him laugh.

''Well that makes two of us'' A kiss on your chin ''You'll get all the cuddles you want'' A kiss on the tip of your nose.

''But first, we gotta take another shower''

''Yes, this is so messy'' Keigo laughed and threw the preservative to the trash bin next to the bed.

''Keigo'' You called him out of nowhere, and he looked at you like a confused bird at such a sudden call. ''I like you. A lot'' A shy smile was on your lips. He smiled widely.

''I like you too. So, so much'' He whispered, and pulled you in for another tender kiss. Good things were to come.

[imaginesntingz]

Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.

————————-

You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.

Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you

Spiraling

down

And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?

“My love? Why are you still awake?”

Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.

“ . . . Can’t sleep.”

You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.

“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”

“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.

Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.

“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”

And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.

“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”

He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”

Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.

“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”

A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.

“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”

His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.

He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”

“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.

A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.

“(y/n), I would never fight you.”

“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Mhm.”

“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.

Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.

“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”

“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”

You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART THREE

Part One, Part Two

Warnings: just some swearing

May 1995

“We’re totally gonna get a record deal!”

Luke said for the tenth time in the past hour as he bounced in his seat.

It was Friday night and normally, you would all be messing around at the park, the beach, or just watching a movie in the studio. But when your phone rang and it was the booking manager for the Orpheum telling you that Sunset Curve is officially the new opener next month, the boys insisted on being there the second your shift at the diner was over.

So instead of arguing about having another Star Wars marathon or playing at the pier, you were all packed in your regular booth at Cece’s for celebratory milkshakes. You sat on the very edge of the booth, practically falling asleep on Alex. Ever since you got the call that morning, every cell in your body felt supercharged with excitement.

But now that the day was coming to an end, you could hardly stay awake enough to pay attention to the conversation.

Bobby, who was in your usual spot, pinched Luke’s arm. “Don’t jinx it, dude.”

“It’s not jinxing if you know for sure.” Luke said. “I mean, we’re awesome! And we’ve worked so hard to get to this point. It’s all gonna pay off.”

As much as you wanted to believe him, you were still nervous. There was nothing you were prouder of than your music, and you knew that a crowd that big would be good for gaining a lot of new fans. But the idea of that many people seeing you perform and hearing your lyrics was nerve-wracking.

You could tell the others felt the same way. Bobby was biting his nails, Alex was bouncing his leg so hard it almost hit the table and Reggie was slumped against the wall. Luke just stared at all of you, his bright smile never fading.

He snapped his fingers so loud that you jumped at the noise, then he started digging in his pockets. “I know what’ll cheer you guys up.”

Luke pulled out a safety pin, then brought its point down into the table, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in concentration. After a few minutes, he brushed off the table and presented his design proudly. It was four words in huge slanted letters.

‘SUNSET CURVE WAS HERE’

“Seriously, Luke?” Alex said, his eyes wide. “Cece’s gonna kill you!”

Luke just smirked and handed him the pin, gesturing to the space under the words. “‘C’mon, man. You’re up first.”

It took a lot of convincing, but Alex eventually gave in, and one by one, you all signed your names.

‘Alex,

Bobby

Reggie

Luke

(Y/N)’

You heard the sound of Cece’s heels hitting the floor as she exited the kitchen. Panicking, you shoved the pin in your pocket just in time as she came up to the table. 

Before she could even see that anything was different, Reggie pointed at Luke.

“He did it!”

Cece frowned before inspecting the table, letting out a deep sigh and putting her hands on her hips.

“Are you vandalizing my diner, Patterson?”

Luke paled. “It was a group effort.”

“But it was your idea,” Alex said with a smirk, no doubt trying to pin the blame on Luke to keep his spot as Cece’s favorite. You had to bury your head into his shoulder to contain your laughter.

You could tell from the way that she was struggling to keep a straight face that Cece wasn’t actually mad but you weren’t gonna tell Luke that. He tried to kick Alex’s leg under the table but he hit yours instead. You hissed in pain and Luke paled even further.

“Shit, sorry, (Y/n).”

“And abusing my staff?” Cece joked, shaking her head.

Luke flashed her a charming smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, Cece. Just got a little excited.”

“I can see that.” She laughed then turned to you. “Hey. Get up. I got you something.”

You looked up at her in confusion but she didn’t offer you any answer as you dragged yourself up. Cece pulled a small blue box out from behind her back and handed it to you. “What’s the occasion?”

Cece rolled her eyes. “Just open it.” 

The first thing you saw was a folded piece of paper with your name on it, under it was a silver key. You picked it up and held it in between your fingers as you carefully unfolded the paper to see three words in Cece’s careful handwriting.

just in case

You looked up at her, eyebrows knitted together. “Cece?”

She just winked as she put her hand on your cheek. “Honey, you know that I couldn’t have more faith in you and your rockstar dreams. But just in case things don’t work out...well, I couldn’t imagine giving this place to anyone else.”

You flew into her arms and hugged her so tight it was a little painful. Of course, all you wanted was for Sunset Curve to get signed to a label and take over the world. But this place was like home to you and the idea of owning it some day made your heart swell. “Thank you!”

The booth erupted in cheers and Cece playfully glared at them as she tucked you under her arm. “But you have to promise you’ll keep these boys of yours from doing any more damage to the property.”

Bobby scoffed. “Hey, we’re not-”

You slapped your hand over his mouth before nodding at Cece. “I’ll try my best.”

The bell on the door jingled to announce the arrival of another customer, and Cece left to greet them. You twirled the key around in your hand and looked at the boys' smiling faces, unable to hide your own.

As you settled back in the booth and took a sip of your milkshake, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was coming together.

2020

L.A was somehow so different, yet exactly the way you remembered.

The way the bright lights flooded the streets, to the way that every surface you see was decorated with a piece of art, made you anxious to re-explore the city you loved so much. 

You couldn’t help but stare through your swinging legs at the crowds walking around below, listening to the soft buzzing of the Orpheum’s sign above your head.

An hour ago when Luke had suggested walking around the city, you figured you would end up here eventually. But now that you were actually here, you couldn’t help the hollow feeling that settled in your stomach.

It must’ve shown on your face because Luke launched into one of his motivational speeches. “C’mon, guys. I know being dead wasn’t our first choice. But you gotta admit, it is easier to get around.”

Reggie pouted. “Easy for you maybe. I lost my shirt on that one.”

You hadn’t even noticed that he was shirtless until it reappeared in a flash and he sighed in relief.

“So, why did you bring us here?” Alex asked Luke. “Just another painful reminder of where we never got to play?”

You smiled sarcastically. “Yeah, thanks, Luke.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Because, we’re not done yet!”

He slung his arm around Alex’s shoulder, and gripped yours as he poofed you all down to the sidewalk, pulling away from you as fast as possible once your feet were back on the ground.

“I’m telling you.” Luke said. “We’ve been given a second chance. Let’s go see how many clubs we can hit before sunrise!”

He started walking down the street and Reggie was quick to follow, leaving you and Alex behind. As you watched them skip down the sidewalk, Alex let out a sharp ‘hey!’ and you whipped around to see him rubbing his shoulder.

A man in a long black suit stared straight into your eyes before tipping his hat to Alex and disappearing down the street. Every hair on your body stood on end as you stared at the spot where he was just standing.

“That was weird.” You said, turning to Alex. “You okay?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m good.”

You could hear Luke and Reggie’s excited shouting as they ran down the street, but you and Alex kept your distance. He reached his arm out to you and you took it automatically.

Over the last six months, Alex had become your best friend. You had always been close but last summer when things got bad with his parents, he turned to you.

And when things started to get weird between you and Luke or you had a fight with your mom, Alex was the only one you wanted to talk to. 

“Alright.” Alex sighed. “Out with it.”

“Out with what?”

“I know you’re dying to talk about Luke.”

“I am not!”

Alex raised his eyebrows, clearly not convinced.

“Besides, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Nothing-” He took in a sharp breath. “(Y/n), for someone so smart, you’re acting like a dumbass.”

You put a hand on your chest, dramatically gasping. “Alexander Mercer! I had no idea you were capable of using that kind of language.”

He flashed you his middle finger before unlocking his arm from yours and pulling you into his side. “Seriously though. What’s rolling around up there?”

You were quiet for a few minutes as you rested your head on his shoulder. “I just want to know what I did, you know?” 

Alex nodded, but didn’t say anything, as he knew that you were just getting started.

“I mean, he’s always been there. He's always been my person. The one who I could count on for anything. Then that night in the studio, I thought…” 

You trailed off and Alex held you a little tighter. Even though he wasn’t there, he could probably describe that night in exact detail from the amount of times you had told him about it. “I just miss him."

“Yeah, I know.” Alex said, his eyes glued to Luke’s back. “But, hey, you know that he loves you, and that didn’t change because of one night.”

He started to say something else but cut himself off as he saw Reggie and Luke approaching, both with big, goofy smiles. Reggie took your arm that wasn’t around Alex’s back and locked it in his.

“What are you guys talking about?” He asked.

“Nothing!” You said way too fast, cringing to yourself as you dragged Reggie down the sidewalk. “Come on, Reg. Let’s go see if that old comic book shop is still around.”

As the night wore on, you became more and more thankful that you weren’t able to get tired.

You spent the whole night sneaking into concert venues, clubs, and pretty much any place you wanted now that there was no chance of getting caught. It wasn’t until you passed a small street-side café that you let yourself think about the one place you hadn’t been yet.

Cece’s Diner.

When Julie told you it had been 25 years, you assumed that it had closed down. That Cece had moved away. Maybe even reconnected with her son and lived out her life. It seemed like such a perfect thought that you didn’t want to ruin it with reality. 

But now that you had seen the way things had changed in the time you had been gone, you were now filled with a sense of urgency. You launched up the sidewalk until you were in front of the boys.

“Hey, guys?” You asked. They all stared at you curiously as a smile slowly spread across your face. “Anyone up for milkshakes?”

-

When you walked up to the diner - for only an instant - it was as if no time had passed. You felt the urge to run inside, throw your hair up in a ponytail, and make a beeline for the kitchen before you got in trouble for being late for your shift. 

Only as you got closer, you realized how much had changed. The building, which had always been a little ordinary and worn like a well-loved home, now felt about twenty stories tall. You dragged yourself forward toward the door, unable to look away.

The boys lingered behind you, but no one said a word. 

Your hand reached for the doorknob before you remembered that you wouldn’t actually be able to touch it.

I really gotta get used to that, you mumbled to yourself as you walked through the door.

It looked so different that you almost didn’t recognize it.

The bright blue paint had been replaced with brown on every wall, bookshelves lined the corners of the room, and long leather couches had replaced the booths and tables. The old jukebox had disappeared, and some old jazz song was playing over speakers over your head.

“Can I help you?” 

A voice asked from behind the counter. It was a boy that looked a little older than you, messy black hair and an uninterested smile. He dragged a blue pen across the margins of a book as he waited for your answer.

“You can see us?” Alex asked, to which the boy rolled his eyes.

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” He said, raising his eyebrows when you all failed to answer either of his questions.

“My, my. Aren’t we chatty.”

“Who are you, exactly?” You said, trying to mask your annoyance with a smile.

“Teddy.” He said, pushing himself off the counter and making his way around until he stopped just a few feet ahead of you. “And you’re (Y/n).”

A shiver ran down your spine. “How do you know that?”

“You were a friend of my grandma’s.”

Before you could ask what the hell he meant by that, a man came walking out of the kitchen. He looked so much like Cece that it made your stomach flip. It was her son.

And as you looked back at Teddy, your mind slowly connected the dots. “You’re Cece’s grandson?”

He nodded.

“Okay, this is just too weird.” You said as you rubbed your temples. There was no way that this was actually happening, right? Maybe you somehow fell asleep and are having some weird ghost dream. 

“Okay, well I definitely feel old.” Alex sighed.

Your head was spinning. “What is even happening right now.”

Teddy smiled. “Well, it’s too bad we’re dead or else I would buy you coffee and explain it to you.”

You internally cringed at his pick-up line but you couldn’t help but laugh a little. Normally, random guys flirting with you made you uncomfortable but behind his cocky attitude, he seemed like a genuine guy.

Maybe it was the way that he twirled his pen between his fingers the way that Cece used to, but something told you that there was more to him than meets the eye.

Before you could answer, Luke spoke up. “Well, it was nice meeting you. But we really should be getting back home.”

You could see that he was right as the pale light came in through the windows as the sky started to lighten.

But you couldn’t help but notice that this was the first time he had interjected in the conversation since you got there, and a small part of you wondered if that had anything to do with the way that Teddy was staring at you.

You shook those thoughts from your head, giving Teddy a soft smile.

“Maybe next time.”

Though you weren’t capable of getting cold, you still shivered a little as you walked through the door and back out onto the street. You could feel Luke’s eyes on the side of your face, flickering down to the sidewalk when he saw you looking.

You gave him a light nudge on the shoulder, and he gave you a soft smile that you couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind.

That was pretty much all you got from Luke these days.

“So,” Luke said, his enthusiasm returning in full force as he threw his arms over Alex and Reggie’s shoulders. “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially back in business.”

-

The second that you landed in the studio, your jaw dropped.

Julie was sitting at the piano, her voice shaky but full of passion as she belted out the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard. Her fingers hit the keys expertly and you smiled.

You closed your eyes, listening to her voice echo through the room and getting lost in the warm feeling the lyrics filled you with. It wasn’t until she stopped singing and sniffled quietly that your heart dropped.

Both you and Alex surged forward to comfort her but Luke shook his head and swirled his finger, signaling to meet up outside. You wanted to protest. To stay and comfort your new friend.

But Julie sniffled again and you thought that maybe it would be a good idea to give her space. You made a mental note to talk to her later and poofed out of the garage.

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13

Let me know if you want to be added!

[lovely-ateez]

Vampire Shift~

ꕥPosted: 5/23/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut, Angst, College!au, Horror!au

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Vampire!Jongho (feat Wooyoung and Minho from skz)

ꕥWord Count: ~5.9k (whoops)

ꕥWarnings: Horror themes, Language, Thigh riding, Unprotected sex, Mentions of blood and blood sucking (please lmk if I missed anything)

ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay

ꕥA/N: I hope you all don’t a more spooky concept! Halloween is my favorite holiday and even though its May, it’s always spooky season to me lolol. Also! Feel free to listen to Vampire Shift by All Time Low while reading this (it’s only on YouTube I cry) since this is inspired by the song :)

It was a terrible idea, really, to work the night shift at a gas station alone. Even more so when you’re a young woman whose only defense is the pepper spray on her key chain and 911 on speed dial. Alas, college bills don’t pay themselves and every spare opportunity to get cash was one I had to take.

The digital clock sitting on the counter next to me briefly flashed, indicating another hour had gone by. It was currently four a.m. and it was safe to say I was losing my mind. I’d worked for five hours now, and not a customer had come in. That was the only advantage, really. So long as no one was around my boss let me finish any assignments I had, which came in handy on more than one occasion.

I was only six paragraphs into a five page report and had been staring at my laptop screen for over an hour, feeling beyond brain dead. I was assigned the topic of financial statements and country trade deficits, and wanted to cry every minute I thought about it. I was half convinced to pay someone to write the report for me.

The ringing of a bell indicated a customer opening the door and I closed my laptop to peer around the counter, ready to greet whoever entered. The first man to catch my attention was wearing sunglasses which fazed me, but I tried not to stare. The man that followed had black hair with blond underneath, a combination that I strangely liked. Both men were donned in all back, their faces stoic. They were attractive, I had to admit, but neither were my type.

And then, the last man entered. He looked over to me as he walked through the door, giving me a nod and a slight smile. His slicked back black hair matched his black ripped jeans and highlighted his red leather jacket. He was so handsome he looked like he jumped out of a magazine and I had to suppress a ‘wow’. A string of butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I did my best to ignore them, not even knowing his name.

The three of them wandered through the aisles until I could no longer see them, and I scolded myself for being so thrown off that I forgot say any form of a greeting. I sighed and turned my attention back to my laptop, opening it and blankly staring at the screen. My ears perked when I heard the men’s hushed voices.

“Y’oughta get that girl’s number. I saw the way you looked at her.”

“Yeah, Jongho. She’s pretty cute. If you don’t get her number you know I will.”

“Shut up.” One of the men, Jongho apparently, responded with a laugh, “Let’s just get some snacks, okay? It’s gonna be a long night. Also I’m buying tonight so get whatever.”

A smile crept on my face and I looked down, fiddling with my thumbs.

They think I’m cute. Maybe Jongho’s the one in red?

I heard the bell ring once more and a girl entered who I vaguely remembered from high school. She was popular but for good reason, probably being one of the nicest people I’d ever met. Our circle of friends overlapped slightly so I’d spent a fair amount of time with her. She was smart as a whip and gorgeous all the same, which seemed to stay with her. She looked bright, long red hair falling around her face, freckles still prominent as ever.

We met eyes and she smiled, “Hey y/n!”

I smiled and waved, “Hey Annabelle. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

“Good! I got into my dream college and it’s been great, although I’ve had to take some pretty hard classes.” She giggled, walking towards me. It’s honestly not too far from here. You go to Westgate University, right?”

I nodded and I put my laptop aside. She spoke again, genuinely excited for me, “That’s awesome! Congrats!”

“Thanks,” I smiled, “I’m taking it you got into Orholt?”

“I did! I was really-”

One of the men that entered earlier—the one still wearing sunglasses—shouted the redhead’s name and caught her attention, “Hey Anna do you want a Redbull or a Five Hour Energy?”

“Redbull! I’m not a monster.” She laughed.

The man nodded and walked toward us with several drinks and snacks in his hands.

“Oh! I want to introduce you to my boyfriend!” Annabelle turned to the man still wearing sunglasses and reached for his arm, “This is Minho. I met him at Orholt.”

Minho gave me a slight nod as I introduced myself and he placed the food and drinks on the counter. I began to scan the items, the mindless routine that I was used to by now. The loud sound of laughter made me look up, seeing the two other men approach us and place their snacks down as well. I watched them long enough to notice the way two-tone—my new affectionate name for the man with blond and black hair, I decided—shamelessly checked me out, a cocky smile on his face when I caught him. I just let out a small laugh before resuming my task, watching his confused reaction in my peripheral vision.

“Oh my god I totally forgot to introduce you to my friends.” Annabelle giggled and pointed to two-tone, “This is Wooyoung.”

“Hiya, Wooyoung.” I said with a confident smile, enjoying the way he still had a slightly confused look on his face.

“And this,” Annabelle nodded towards the man in red, “This is Jongho. Both him and Wooyoung go to Orholt, too.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jongho. I’m y/n.”

“Very nice to meet you.” The man smiled before he sent me a wink.

I had never been a particularly shy person, but as he did so my eyes darted down as I felt my face flush. I didn’t notice the gears turning in Annabelle’s head as she put the pieces together.

I placed the final items in the bag, raising my head as Annabelle addressed me,  “You know I’m having a bonfire tomorrow night at my place and you should totally come!”

I stopped to think, first trying to remember if I worked the next day, then wondering if I was willing to go the bonfire when I realized I didn’t have to.

She sensed my hesitancy and her face fell, “Aw do you work tomorrow night? It’s a Saturday!”

“Oh no, I don’t. I...” I stopped to think for a minute. Although I likely didn’t know anyone else who would be there, I was familiar with Annabelle’s house, which brought me a bit of comfort, “Are all of you going?”

Annabelle gave a knowing smile, “Yes. All of us will be here.”

I nodded, accepting the credit card Jongho gave me, quickly after handing them the bags, and returning his card, “I’ll go.”

“Yay! We’ve gotta head out but I’ll send you the details. You’ve still got the same number, right?”

“Yeah I do.”

“Alrighty! I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

Annabelle left with a wave, her boyfriend on her arm and Wooyoung behind her. To my surprise, Jongho didn’t leave with them, the cocky look on his face all but telling me why he stayed.

I looked at him with wide eyes, playing innocent. “Can I help you?”

He placed an arm on the counter, his dark eyes seeming to put me under a spell. The confidence he was radiating was almost palpable and I felt myself being pulled to him. It was intimidating, to be honest.

“You’re really cute and I want your number.”

I let out a surprised laugh, “You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“No, not really,” He propped his other arm on the counter, leaning towards me and raising an eyebrow, “So what do you say, doll?”

A smile crept on my face as I mirrored his actions and leaned towards him, “You gonna memorize my number? Or do you have a phone I can put my number into?”

Jongho’s smile got brighter as he reached to grab his phone, handing it to me. “You’re a firecracker, aren’t you?”

I shrugged, “I’d like to think so.”

When I handed his phone back, our fingers brushed and I could’ve sworn I felt sparks shoot through me at the simple interaction.

“Well I need to head out before the rest of them get too annoyed,” He nodded towards the exit where Annabelle, Minho, and Wooyoung left, “But it was enchanting to meet you, y/n.” He bowed, drawing a laugh from me.

“Ah yes. You as well, absolutely delightful.”

He gave me a smile, “I’ll text you later.”

"Sounds good. I’ll hold you to your word.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” And with that, he was out the door, leaving my heart a fluttering mess.

-

Me [8:37pm] So is there a dress code for tonight?

Annabelle [8:42pm] Nope! Wear whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m wearing this if it helps at all!

Annabelle [8:43pm] 1 Image Attached*

Me [8:45pm] So leather jackets and crop tops?

Annabelle [8:48pm] Haha sure! We can match!

Me [8:51pm] Lol bet. See you at eleven :)

Annabelle [8:51pm] See you then!

I started the process of slipping on a white cropped top followed by my light washed ripped jeans. I knew I was getting ready far earlier than I could have, but something about new events made me anxious and I had to make sure I looked nice. I giggled at the black leather jacket I was throwing over my shoulders, not having worn it since high school. In the middle of debating whether or not I should add another layer of mascara to my lashes, my phone dinged.

New Number [8:59pm] Y/n this better be you. This is Jongho and I’m texting you for a really important reason and I need you to reply quick

Me [9:00pm] Yeah it’s me. What’s going on are you okay??

New Number [9:02pm] I’m gonna go grab some food before I head to Anna’s. You wanna come with?

Me [9:02pm] Oh my god don’t do that to me, you buffoon. You scared me so bad rip

[New Number name changed to A Cute Buffoon]

Me [9:03pm] But sure I’m down lol. Here’s my address btw

Me [9:03pm] 1 Location Shared*

It occurred to me perhaps a bit too late that I was sharing my address with someone that I’d met only once and in a gas station.

I mean, he’s friends with Annabelle so he’s gotta be good right? God I hope so. I thought to myself.

A Cute Buffoon [9:04] Then it’s a date :) I live pretty close so I’ll be over in 10. That work for you?

Me [9:06pm] Fine with me!

A Cute Buffoon [9:06pm] Sounds good. I’ll see you soon ;)

I set down my phone and thanked myself for already doing my makeup. I checked myself out in the mirror, satisfied with my appearance and proud of how well my makeup turned out. I grabbed my bottle of perfume and spritzed the liquid in the air, letting it gradually fall on me so it wouldn’t be too overpowering.

You look beautiful, babe.

The waiting game was harder than I thought, not knowing what to do except awkwardly sit around and play an assortment of phone games. When exactly ten minutes had passed I heard my doorbell ring and I lifted myself from my couch, grinning at his punctuality.

I opened the door to see Jongho holding a bouquet of flowers, a smug look on his face. “Lovely to meet you here, stranger.”

I wanted to make a joke back but I couldn’t seem to think of anything, too surprised by the flowers in his hands. It wasn’t anything extravagant, the small bouquet of violets, but I felt my heart swell.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

My voice was small when I spoke, “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

His eyebrows furrowed as a confused look painted his face, “Really?”

I nodded, taking the flowers from his outreached hands and smelling their sweet fragrance, “They’re beautiful.”

My eyes flickered to his, the tender look on his face making me feel as if I was melting on the spot, “You’re beautiful.”

I squealed, my face undoubtedly turning pink while my mind short circuited. I’d never become so shy around someone before and the only thing I could think of to say in response was another ‘thank you’ followed by ‘I’ll go get a vase for these.’

I opened my door further, rummaging through my cabinets for a vase when I noticed Jongho was still standing by the door, “You can come in, you know? That’s why I opened the door.”

He laughed nervously, “Sorry about that. Force of habit, I guess.”

I raised my eyebrows in a teasing manner, “What? Are you a vampire? Can you only come in if someone invites you?”

I thought I saw a flicker of shock on his face for a moment, but it was gone before I could register it and I shrugged it off, my eyes finding the perfect vase for the flowers.

“It’s just how I was raised.”

“I get that.” I placed the flowers in the vase, giving them a bit of water before walking up to Jongho and gently patting his cheek, “Your good manners are appreciated.”

He laughed in surprise, full gummy smile on display as he playfully swatted my hand away from his face, “Alright, alright. Let’s head out already.”

I made a sound of agreement before noticing a slight pink on his ears. I was temped to tease him, but ultimately decided to save it for later. If I could fluster him once I knew I could do it again.

-

The diner we went to was one I’d never heard of before, let alone been to, and I was beyond frustrated that I didn’t even know about it’s existence. It was an adorable fifties style diner and even the attire the waiters were wearing fit the theme.

“This is the cutest place to ever exist, I’m convinced.” I said as we sat down on the same side of a bright red booth.

“I really hoped you would like it. This is my favorite restaurant ever and they have fantastic milkshakes. If you’d like to share one for desert, I’m all for it.” A wink.

I bit my lip and hid my face in the menu that was placed in front of us, thankful for any method of escape.

“You’re so cute.”

“Ahh no don’t say things like that.” I giggled from behind the menu.

His hand grabbed the top of the menu, pulling it down so he could see me, “Why’s that?”

“Because you make me nervous. Like a good nervous!” I tried to explain, which only resulted in becoming even more embarrassed, “I-I mean I’m excited to be around you but I’m also nervous. I hope that doesn’t sound weird.” I cringed at myself. Never in my life did I think I’d be blushing and stuttering over some man, but my god did he prove me wrong.

“Not at all,” he reached over to take my hand in his, “because I feel it, too.”

Before I could properly react our waitress came over, taking our order and effectively saving me from becoming a human tomato.

We handed our menus back to her after ordering and she looked at us with a soft smile, “You two make a cute couple.”

While I was a bit too stunned to say anything, Jongho didn’t seem to have the same problem and went along with it, “Thank you, ma’am. That’s kind of you to say.”

When she left, Jongho leaned closer to me, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by saying that we we’re a couple. I thought that-”

“No, I didn’t mind it!” I bit my tongue after likely saying that way too fast with far too much enthusiasm, but I meant it, “I didn’t mind it,” I said again, softer this time.

The tips of his ears once again turned a faint shade of pink, “Good to know.”

The food was as wonderful as it possibly could’ve been, their fries alone being one of the best things I’d ever consumed. Just as Jongho suggested, we shared a milkshake, which led to shy eye contact and laughter and my crush becoming stronger by the minute.

Just as Jongho paid and we were about to leave, a certain song began to play and he looked at me with an air of mischief, holding out his hand to me, “Dance with me.”

I took his hand, trying to hide my smile but failing. He led me away from the table and next to the jukebox. The area surrounding it was more open, probably with the intention for people to dance near it. He grabbed my waist, holding the hand of mine that wasn’t placed on his chest and looking at me in a way that could make any woman fall in love on the spot. We swayed to the music and I couldn’t help but feel full. Like I’d found all that I’d ever need.

Put your head on my shoulder~

“Do you know this song?” He asked with a smile.

I scoffed, “Of course I do! It’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s one of mine, too.”

Hold me in your arms, baby~

I mouthed along to the words as I felt the need to prove it to him. As if to one up me, Jongho began to sing along, his gorgeous voice amazing me.

Squeeze me oh so tight, show me~

That you love me, too~

I blushed as he looked at me while singing along, becoming a bit flustered himself when the lyrics clicked with him.

Put your lips next to mine dear~

Won’t you kiss me once, baby~

As if we were in sync our eyes darted to the other’s lips at the same time. I could feel Jongho’s breathing becoming heavier before he said in a hushed tone, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” Was all I could respond before I pressed my lips to his, fireworks igniting inside me when he kissed me back. His lips were so soft and warm and as crazy as it sounded, he felt like home. I felt him smile against my lips as the music continued to play.

Maybe you and I will fall in love~

-

The fire was loud, crackling and lighting up the faces of all those crowded those around it. It was essentially the only source of light in the dark of the night, except for the distant lights still on in Annabelle’s house. My hands were interlocked with Jongho’s as we sat around it’s warmth, both of us finding it hard to separate from one another.

Conversation was flowing all around us, and I was relieved to find that everyone I had talked to was kind and welcoming. I was more nervous than I realized, but having Jongho next to my side alone calmed me. Someone around the fire mentioned an old story involving Annabelle and I began to wonder where she was, having not seen her since Jongho and I first arrived. I mentioned I was going to look for her and he nodded, at first wanting to join me but then getting pulled into conversation with one of his former classmates. I told him I’d head off on my own and he nodded again.

I looked around what seemed to be the entire property and still there was no sight of her. At that moment I heard yelling coming from her house, startling me. I felt my blood run cold when I recognized one of the voices as Annabelle’s. The yelling didn’t sound like it was out of fear, but instead more aggressive, out of pure anger. Without thinking I ran inside, hoping to calm the situation but instead found what seemed to be out of a work of fiction.

An unfamiliar man was on the ground, obviously trying to get away from a hidden figure before him that seemed to be cloaked in darkness. He let out a sound that I’d never heard a human make, one that I couldn’t even compare to something I’d heard before, and a shiver ran down my back. As the figure took a step forward I recognized it as Annabelle, or what seemed to be some version of her. Her normally grey eyes were now bright red, sharp fangs on display as she snarled at the man. A group of people were surrounding them, alarmed looks on their faces but hardly trying to intervene.

“What the hell?” I whispered, my eyes wide as I tried to back away without anyone noticing. But of course, I just had to step on an empty soda can, all eyes pointing my way. As I looked at the people around me, their expressions seemed to mirror mine and I swallowed, suddenly feeling immensely claustrophobic.

I met eyes with Annabelle and she seemed to change in a flash, her eyes returning to their former color and fangs disappearing. She looked more panicked than I had ever seen her which only scared me more. She was always able to keep her stressors under control, but as she stared back at me, I saw a version of her I never had before.

I was barely able to form a sentence, adrenaline coursing through me at a rampant rate, “Um...” 

Annabelle slowly walked towards me, “Oh—hey! Sorry I disappeared for a while but how’s the party going? Are you having fun?” Panic was still evident in her voice but I knew she was trying to keep a hold of the situation.

“I...I don’t-”

A stern voice came from left, and I nervously turned to meet Jongho, an unreadable expression crossing his face, “Y/n.”

“Yeah?” My voice squeaked as I began to regret agreeing to come along in the first place, still hyper aware of all the eyes on me.

“Come with me.”

His eyes softened at my panicked state and he held out a hand, “Please?”

I was hesitant, but being anywhere away from the crowd and whatever Annabelle turned into seemed to be a good idea. I took his hand and watched as he exchanged a look with Annabelle that seemed to calm her. Turning on his heels he led me back to the bonfire, sitting in a chair and motioning for me to do the same. Seeing no one around us gave me a feeling of both anxiety and comfort, and I wasn’t quite sure which feeling was winning at the moment.

“Well I’m sure you have plenty of questions.” He started, “I won’t lie to you and try to convince you what you saw wasn’t real, because it was, but I need you to know that no one is going to harm you. That guy is Anna’s roommate and they get into an argument at least once a week. Sometimes it can be nasty, but they never get physical and neither would ever hurt anyone unprovoked. No one here would.”

I was silent for a few minutes, trying to process what I saw on top of the time bomb of information he dropped on me. “Is she...is everyone....are you a vampire?” I whispered the last words, almost too stunned and afraid to say out loud.

He smiled slightly, his kind eyes making me feel safe. “Yes. We’re what you’d call vampires.”

I took a breath, almost afraid to hear the answer to my question, “Am I in any danger by being here?”

“No, everyone here is good. They don’t pose any threat. There are plenty of dangerous vampires but we stay away from them. Besides,” He placed an arm around my waist, playfulness in his eyes, “If there were, I’d protect you from them.”

“Oh? And how don’t I know you’re not dangerous?”

He leaned closer to me, clearly enjoying this, “You don’t, I suppose. Doesn’t that make it fun?”

“That’s very much debatable,” I smiled for a moment before a frown took over, “Everyone just seemed really...I don’t know, startled I guess?”

Jongho let out a loud sigh, looking down at the ground for a few seconds before looking back up at me, “Humans aren’t normally invited to these parties. It’s assumed that everyone here is a vampire. The perfume that you’re wearing, whatever the hell it is, is masking your scent. If I didn’t meet you before today I wouldn’t have known you were human. I guess Anna didn’t tell everyone, either.” He placed a hand on my knee and looked at me with kind eyes, “How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly calm considering that I just learned vampires exist.”

Jongho laughed, “Yeah I’d say you’re taking it pretty well. Like I said earlier though, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions, so fire away.”

“Yeah I have a few.” I hesitated, hoping he wouldn’t be offended by my question, “Exactly how old are you?”

“Oh are you gonna age shame me?”

“No but it’s probably an important thing to know...since we kissed and all.”

He laughed again and leaned back in his chair, placing his arms behind his head,  “How old do you think I am?”

I used his question as an excuse for my eyes to wander over his body. He was beyond attractive, very clearly fit and he knew it, which equal parts pissed me off and turned me on. As hard as I tried, I kept finding myself being pulled to his thighs. Even through his jeans I could tell he had strong thighs and I had to press my fingernails into my palm to keep from drooling. “From your appearance? Early twenties. From what age fiction usually tells us vampires are? I’d guess you’re a hundred and three.”

Jongho nodded with a smile, “I’m not quite that old but that’s a fair guess. You had it right the first time. I’m a pure born and we actually age, but we don’t age as quickly as humans. I’m twenty.”

“Pure born?”

“It means both of my parents are vampires.”

I nodded as another question came to mind, a smile on my lips. “Do you sparkle in the daylight?”

“Oh my god,” He covered his face with his hands, a mixture of a groan and a laugh escaping his mouth, “No, we do not sparkle in daylight, “His hands came to rest on his knees, “But it sucks that we really shouldn’t be in direct sunlight for over two hours a day. That’s normally the rule to go by. It’ll burn us if we’re in it for much longer than that.”

“So do werewolves and witches and everything like that exist, too?”

“Yeah pretty much. We don’t all get along, but we have to coexist. It’s something we’ve struggled with for a while, unfortunately. Basically everything you’d believe to be supernatural exists.”

I was silent for a while, not really knowing what else to say.

“Y/n? Are you doing okay? If you’re not comfortable being here I can drive you home right now or if you’d rather be alone I can call an Uber or—”

My heart skipped a beat at his kindness. “No, I’m okay. I guess I’m just surprised I’m learning about this just now.”

“We do a good job of hiding it. Also it was probably a given, but keep this as a secret if you can. Having a lot of people know about our existence can be risky.”

I gave him a silent nod, unintentionally leaning closer to him. The sound of approaching footsteps made me jump into Jongho’s arms. I didn’t know why I found comfort in him, knowing that he could be dangerous as well, but he’d been nothing but sweet to me. I had no reason to fear him.

Annabelle approached us but stopped, taking a few steps back when she saw how I was buried in Jongho’s arms.

“Hey y/n.” She rubbed her arm, looking down as if she’d done something wrong.

“I guess Jongho probably told you everything at this point. I’m really sorry if I scared you and I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore.” Even in the dark I could see tears beginning to stream down her cheeks and I felt a pain in my chest.

I got up from Jongho’s hold and wrapped my arms around her, feeling her stiffen, “I trust you, Annabelle.”

Those four words seemed to relax her and she returned my hug, still sniffling, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. We aren’t supposed to tell anyone and I thought you might hate me—”

I pulled back, “Why the hell would I hate you? You’re still you.”

She laughed through tears, gripping me tighter, thanking me over and over for not pushing her away.

We’re gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay.

-

Not too long after, Jongho drove me home. The ride was more silent than when we were headed to Annabelle’s house, but the air wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. Feeling tired, I laid my head on Jongho’s shoulder, faintly hearing ‘sleep well, baby’ before drifting asleep.

When I woke, I was in my bed. I reached for my phone on the bedside table and found a little note placed next to it that read:

I hope you don’t mind that I carried you inside. I tried to wake you for like five minutes but you were out cold. Anyways, I had a really good time with you yesterday and I hope you had fun too :) Text me when you wake so I know you’re okay. -J

I looked at my clock and saw that it was still early, but I texted Jongho anyway.

Me [3:00am] Not sure if you’re still up, but I really enjoyed yesterday, too. I’m exhausted so I’m gonna go back to sleep but I just wanted to say I’m okay and everything is good :))

A Cute Buffoon [3:00am] Sleep well, darling. We can talk in the morning

-

It had been roughly a month since Jongho and I started dating, and while I felt like I knew him pretty well, we had only known each other a little over a month, on top of the fact that he was a vampire which was essentially an entire separate culture. I’d asked him most questions I had early throughout our relationship, but one in particular kept replaying in my mind.

We were currently sitting on the couch in my apartment, cuddling each other. The TV was on but neither of us were really watching it. I was far more interested in the warm body in front of me, and based off of how Jongho was looking at me, the feeling was mutual.

I bit my lip, anxiously mulling over the question I’d wanted to ask him for weeks. I didn’t know how he would take it, let alone how I would bring it up, but I needed to ask at some point. Knowing he could probably sense my nerves, I gave in. “Jongho, can a human turn into a vampire?”

He hummed, turning to face me. “Why do you ask?”

“I just...I didn’t know if it could happen or not.”

Jongho chuckled, “Yeah it’s possible. It’s a long ass process to go through though, and there’s a lot that can go wrong, so it rarely happens.”

I shifted in my seat, trying not to appear overly interested. “Why is that? What can go wrong?

He smiled and raised a brow, his cocky persona resurfacing, “You sound so eager to know, dear. Do you want to become a vampire?” His eyes briefly flickered towards my lips before he tilted his head, dragging his soft lips across my neck. I let out a gasp when I felt the tips of his teeth lightly scraping the skin, “Or maybe you’re just looking for an excuse for me to put my mouth on you?”

Like with anything that exuded him, I felt myself becoming quickly overwhelmed, my mind now hazy and distant. I shut my eyes in an attempt to gain some semblance of control over myself.

“Your thoughts are swirling, doll.” Jongho began leaving gentle kisses along the side of my jaw, “Don’t think too much. Just let me take care of you. Okay?”

“Okay.” I said through a short breath, knowing we’d just have to have the conversation another time.

We’d had sex before, so it wasn’t like this was new territory for us, but every time felt like the first, leaving me just as out of breath each time.

He lifted me and placed me on his thigh, dragging me across his flexed muscles. I felt my eyes roll back at the simple motion, my need growing at an embarrassing rate. I grabbed his shoulders as I began to drag myself against him, whines and whimpers spilling from my lips.

“God you’re hot,” Jongho said through hot breaths, beginning to kiss my neck, no doubt leaving marks.

“Thanks I try.” I managed to say, pleased when Jongho laughed.

“You don’t even have to, and it’s completely unfair.” His hands moved under my shirt and danced along my skin, “It’s like you’re an angel come to life.”

I let out a loud moan, feeling tears well in my eyes from his praise, “You always make me feel so beautiful when I’m with you.”

Jongho responded with a smile, carrying me to my bedroom and laying me down on the bed while hurriedly discarding both of our clothes.

“You’re always so eager, babe.”

He nuzzled my neck as he climbed on top of me, his hands finding my own and holding them, “As if you’re not.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

He then moved in between my thighs, teasing me with his fingers as he ran them along my wet slit, occasionally rubbing my clit, drawing small whines from me.

“Jongho please just fuck me already.”

“Sweetheart, do you even think you’re wet enough for me?” He cooed.

Feeling frustrated, I pushed my fingers inside myself with ease, pulling them out and spreading them so he could see my essence dripping down my fingers, “I don’t know you tell me.” I said with far more sass than I intended.

Jongho’s eyes widened at the sight and wasted no time positioning his cock at my entrance, pushing in and letting out the most beautiful groans.

Neither of us ever bothered to use protection because, to put it simply, vampires couldn’t get humans pregnant. It was only possible when both partners were vampires, and we took full advantage of that.

“Fuck—baby you feel amazing. You’re so warm and tight ohmygod.” Jongho moaned as he began to move, thrusting in and out of me at a steady pace.

I clenched around him, loving when he was vocal. His sounds helped get me off just as much as his actions, at times it seemed.

“You feel...really good...too.” I said through heavy breaths. And as much as I wanted to last longer in bed, with Jongho, I never could.

“I don’t know if it’s because you’re a vampire and you’ve got like magic powers or something or maybe you’re just a sex god—but holy shit...I’m close.”

He threw back his head and had the audacity to laugh, something I really couldn’t stay mad at with how good he was making me feel. “Babe it’s been like six minutes.”

“Don’t be an asshole.” I joked, my laugh turning into a moan. It only spurred Jongho on, making him angle one of my legs up higher, hitting deeper inside of me.

“I know you’re close, baby. I can feel it. Cum for me, baby girl. Let go for me.”

He reached down to tease my sensitive nub, drawing quick circles until I was seeing stars, chanting his name like a prayer.

After Jongho came down from his high, he disappeared into the bathroom as he always did, coming back with a warm towel. As he pressed the towel to my thighs I tried to ask again.

“So...about the human to vampire thing?”

“Well,” Jongho sighed, “I didn’t think I’d be able to distract you forever.” He smiled, “It’s mostly done because couples want to stay together. The thing is though, the vampire obviously gets a taste of the human’s blood and it can be hard to stop once you’ve marked them, especially since smell is such a big allure for us.”

He took a long breath, “Then the human will almost always pass out, and needs to be taken care of for the next couple days because they’ll be so weak. Another problem is that the scent of their blood will be amplified during those days and it’ll be harder for the vampire to not, you know...” He looked away, not able to say the words. I knew what he meant, we both did. In some cases, vampires would kill their human partners for of their blood. Sometimes it was beyond their control. Just a primal need that would betray them. “Then their scent is more easily detected by other vampires and the whole thing is just kinda a mess. I think I’ve only heard of five attempts and only one of them was successful.”

I nodded, not really knowing what to say.

“And then on top of it all, it can be harder for the human to adjust and it can put a lot of pressure on the relationship. Human and vampire relationships are dangerous.”

His face was serious as he ran a hand through my hair. I looked up at him and leaned into his touch.

He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, a shy behavior I hadn’t seen from him before, “I guess it’s important for you to decide then.” His eyes met mine again, “Is this still something you want to continue?”

“Our relationship?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course, are you crazy? You mean the world to me.” I swallowed, realizing he hadn’t voiced his own thoughts, “What about you? Do you want this?”

“I think you have a pretty good idea of what I want.” He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, his eyes sparkling.

“Hey Jongho?”

He hummed, looking at me.

“I want to spend forever with you.”

[angsty-omi]

arms tonite

fuckboy!atsumu miya x fem!reader

genre: angst, unrequited love,

cw: suggestive content, swearing, heartbreak

word count: 1.5 k

Different girl every night and no repeats; that was the rule of law Atsumu Miya lived by. Whether it was Asians, Whites, or Black girls he didn’t discriminate. If they had a beating heart and a pussy then he was set. Hearing about these conquests as his best friend, really made you think ‘wow who’s the poor that let Atsumu put his dick in that night?’ And as you would find it, soon enough it’d be you.

Media portrayal of college students, especially in movies, falsely portrayed college students and gave unrealistic ideas of how they live. These media outlets give impractical ideas of what college students are- intense party seekers, people who have all the time in the world, or just lazy nonworking students who revolve everything around their social lives. This was, by all means not true.

You, and many other diligent college students, can attest to this. The heavy number of finals and research papers due would soon drown you in your sleep. To prevent you from feeling overwhelmed, you always went to him. The one person who could talk your ear off, which though annoying, kept your mind off things, Miya Atsumu. See, Atsumu had the ultimate college experience. The ones that occurred on screen, the ‘intense party seeking’ events where somehow your invite was always lost in the mail. Every Wednesday, you’d always fit him into your schedule for brunch, which mostly consisted of him talking about the ‘new freshman babes’ at the Inarizaki Frat House, and you lived vicariously through him, not because you were envious of his lifestyle, rather, you were just interested in what could’ve been. 

“Did you get that Y/N?” Your thoughts were interrupted.

“U-uh, yeah! Of course, I did.” You tried playing it off, but Atsumu could see right through you. He knew all your mannerisms, for example, when you bite your lip, it’s a sign that you’re prepared for a big change or if you handball your T-Shirt, you’re feeling insecure. He could tell you had something weighing in on you, but he decided to ignore your blatant lie and wait for you to tell him.

“So, are you gonna tell how you’ve been doin’?” He lightly asked. 

“Yeah, uh life has been hard for me… I guess. It’s just that- with all these finals I am feeling so overwhelmed,” you buried your face in your hands to attempt forgetting about school. Knowing Atsumu, he would just drown out your sorrow, or so you thought. You continued, “I can’t eat, sleep, or you know-,” not even acknowledging the fact you just referred about your inability to get off. Atsumu became was suspiciously quiet. 

“What,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Nothing, Nothing,” he shook his head, chuckling.

 “No, seriously what’s so funny?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Ya’ reeeaaaallly want to know?”

“I said yes already, just spit it out,” you irritated with anticipation. 

“I could help your little issue down there,” Atsumu grinned. Studying? When has Atsumu Miya ever wanted to study with you? The only reason he got into this school was because  he was a D1 athlete. Unless, he turned a new leaf and he chose a path where you don’t slap a ball back and forth because quite frankly you thought that it was risky caree- Oh. That little issue. “You’ve got to be kidding, I would never,” you felt offended. It wasn’t that he was ugly, it was quite the opposite. He had a charming personality, while also being built like a Greek God, and with a face like that it’s no wonder these girls fall for him. However, you felt too prideful to sleep with him. Sure, you may have some underlying feelings for him that you shut down deep inside, but you didn’t want to be treated like a human toy. So, that thought was always out of the question.  

“Never say n-” He was interrupted with his corny ringtone.

“Hello?... Yeah, I’m free, right now… Alright, see you then.” 

Atsumu always did this, it was like clockwork. He’d bail on you when you clearly were in distress and he could not even prioritize time to listen. He even, left you with the check. Sure, he’d Venmo you afterwards, but it still hurt nonetheless. On the walk back to your dorm, your thoughts were full of cursing Atsumu out for always bailing on you. Holding it in for so long only lasted you so much before you exploded. 

That night, Atsumu came over, not even expecting your wrath. 

An hour in, and he still couldn’t understand your argument. “Atsumu, if you could just.. I don’t know- not bail on me? Cause you know, it’s common courtesy!” You exclaimed. 

“Dude, it was literally just a few times, I don’t know why you’re getting so upset?”

“Upset? Upset? Upset is an understatement. How would you feel if I dropped you for some dick?”

“Like that would ever happen. C’mon, Y/N, you’re acting like my girlfriend and I’m uncomfortable.” He blurted, frustrated that this argument has lasted almost two hours. He just rejected you, and you didn’t even get the chance to even address those feelings. 

“Get out.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

“I don’t care, get out.” You wiped a treacherous tear from your eye. You opened the door, and gestured him to leave. But, he just stood there. Moving over to him in tears, you tried to push him out. Your measly arms were incomparable to his toned abs that he’s built since high school. He grasped your arms, and for a moment you could feel his padded thumb, wiping your cheek. Your faces were only a few inches away. This was your chance to get a taste of him, before he turned into a stranger. You leaned in his lips.

The lack of return made your heart drop. You let go and rambled with apologies,“I-I’m so sorry. Look, I-” He shut you up with another kiss, more passionate than yours. “I told ya’ I could fix that little issue of yours.”

The morning after, you woke up with your body aching in pain. Drool all over your chin, and in disgust, you wiped your mouth and skimmed your calendar. ‘The biomedical final isn’t at 10, it’s at 8-’ whispering to yourself. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Then, you slowly gazed at your alarm clock, ‘7:57 AM’ it read. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” you screamed to yourself. Without thinking, you dashed out the door and sped to the testing center. At the entrance, your professor met eyes with you. “Testing entry is closed, I thought you were better than this, Y/N.” Scolding you up and down. I only missed the final by a couple of minutes, why is she shunning me? You thought. But before you could continue, you looked down. There you were, love marks all over, in your panties and an oversized T-shirt to top it off. 

You rushed into your dorm, to find the vampire who did this to you. The universe was seemingly against you once more, because on your way over to your bedroom, you slipped on a textbook. How ironic. The loud slam woke him up, making him sit upright. “Oh my God Y/N are you okay?” He said with a concerned look on his face.

“Why the fuck are you still in my bed?” 

“Well if you wanna know the details-” He smirked, “No no no, I’m okay,” you interrupted him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what went on. 

You felt blood drip on your upper lip. Both of you just stared in shock. Immediately, he swiped you up, bridal style, and plopped you onto the sink. He stood in between your legs, soaking your nose with numerous amounts of toilet paper. There was a comfortable silence in the air. You know, Atsumu was quite beautiful with his mouth closed. The way the sunlight accentuated his sharp features, with his eyes reflecting a shade of light hazel. In an impulse, you pecked his lips and to your surprise, he reciprocated. 

It’s been a month since you’ve been hooking up and it’s become your new normal. As a small treat, you wanted to do surprise.

Prior to this dynamic, as best friends you always had a spare key, which his twin brother made sure of because Atsumu was forgetful. As tacky as it was, you were wearing a trench coat, that covered your bright red two-piece lingerie underneath. Silently twisting the knob, you walked into to his bedroom. The apartment was still clean, signaling that he wasn’t home. In which, gave you enough time to position yourself on his bed. After many awkward attempts of seductive positions, you chose the cross-over leg at the edge of his bed, which accentuated your hips. 

You heard his front door open, and his loud voice gave you the signal. You felt relaxed, but it wasn’t until you heard another voice. High-pitched and fruity, it was one of those voices you could tell it’d belong to a pretty girl. You panicked, and mentally scolded yourself for pushing Atsumu to go with a minimalist aesthetic for his bedroom, which left nowhere to hide for you. The knob was opened slightly, where only he could see you. Eye contact was made, and he immediately slammed the door shut. 

There was a muffled, “Hey! uh- my room is kind of dirty right now. Let’s go over to yours.” And after, hearing the front door shut, you assumed she complied. In awe, you mentally kicked yourself over and over again. You took off your attire immediately walking into your bedroom, it burned your skin with insecurities and embarrassment. So much for putting yourself out there. Although, what hurt the most was the way his eyes were full of disgust when he saw you.

That night, he knocked at your door. You opened it, thinking it was your food.

Your heart was beating rapidly, because just an hour ago you made a whole scheme of routes to take without seeing him. You coyly responded with, “you’re not my DoorDash,” and tried to close the door. But he blocked it.

“We need to talk,” he said in the most serious tone you’ve personally ever heard from him. How could those words scare you when you’re not in a relationship.

“What was that shit you pulled earlier?” He irritated. You felt so small under his gaze.

“I thought it would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. “Nice? That girl was the president of one of the most notorious sororities. She could’ve seen you.” He yelled, continuously blaming you. The way he viewed her, would never be the way he saw you. You were just a friend who needed a favor, not someone he actually wanted to pursue.

“You know what? Fine, my fault. Sorry that I ruined it, sorry that I showed up, sorry that I even planned it, sorry I ever thought that you saw me more than just a skank, sorry I even called you over that night, and finally, sorry for ever loving-” it just slipped out. His eyes widened, “Finish that sentence, Y/N. If I knew-”

“Knew what? Knew that I loved you, you wouldn’t have gotten involved? Yeah, well it’s too late. You know what? Just get out. I never want to see you again, Miya,” you sobbed, tears flowing down your face freely. Pounding your fists against his chest. His immobility gave you a small sliver of hope.

“I’m not ready, Y/N. I can’t give you what you want.” Conflicted, unbeknownst whether he was talking to you or himself. “But we can still be friends.”

That sentence was the nail in the coffin.

“It hurts to even look at you Atsumu.” Your voice cold. For someone that could read you so well, why did he think that would save your relationship? “I’ll.. be on my way then.” He slowly got up, and turned the knob. Selfishly enough, he made one more glance at you. He embraced this last glance. Did you know you were beautiful? Even with snot, running down your nose. Of course, you didn’t look back, you were too focused on biting your lips.

Atsumu’s face went pale. He knew what sign that meant. And the change was him. You were really set on ghosting him. With the door closed and Atsumu leaning on it, he couldn’t help to question why that made a pang in his heart.