#elementary school me didn’t know the treasures she had as a kid and let those pkmn cards get damaged from playing thru the years

[akkivee]

i’m going to make a vtuber whose only gimmick is being into hypmic and buys all these rng based products in hopes she gets bad ass temple stuff and will be treating this like unboxing pkmn cards LOL /J

[baekguuuuu]

Better Than Revenge

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Smut, Angst

Word Count: 20.1k (im sorry i tried to make it short but it just happened ><)Summary: All those years you are convinced that you only like the same gender. However, you decided to start anew after ending a long-term unhealthy relationship, not expecting to meet new people and him.

I should have seen it coming. 

For almost nine years, I let myself turn a blind eye to what was bound to happen. 

There’s nothing wrong with loving someone of the same sex.  

My parents had assured me that when I started dating this girl I met during my first year in university.  

I’m an only child.  

As a kid, I was my dad’s princess and my mom’s precious daughter.  

I grew up in a very loving family. My dad is a cardiologist, and my mom is an elementary music teacher. Both are nearing retirement but still doing their best in their career. 

My parents met when they were in middle school. You know, the cliché, my dad made fun of my mom to hide his little crush on her. When high school came, my dad finally gathered all his courage to ask my mom to be his girlfriend. 

My dad is a gentle, loving man. Since I was a kid, I’ve seen his effort to show love to my mom despite his busy schedule at the hospital. He’s never absent on anniversaries and birthdays; he never once missed holidays and family reunions.  

I remember my friends in middle school told me how their parents would always yell and fight with each other almost every night. They were surprised when I told them how my parents treated each other. 

“They’re probably just not showing it in front of you,” one of my so-called friends scoffed, rolling her eyes bitterly. 

I was a child and asked my mom when I got home that night. “Mom, do you and Dad ever fight?” 

My mom, she’s the sweetest person I’ve ever known. There’s a reason why she had been teaching for the longest time, and her students—those mischievous children, love her.  

She smiled gently, caressing the apple of my cheek with her thumb, “Of course, honey. But instead of screaming from the top of our lungs to each other, we would always choose to sit down and talk, remind each other why your dad asked to marry me and why I said yes. Sometimes, we would even recite our vows from our wedding day. I love your dad, and I will always choose to love him over anything. And, of course, we—your dad and I love you very much, my baby. You will always be our treasure.” 

I wanted that kind of love. 

I keep telling that to myself until the end of high school. The boys hated me so much for declining their invitation for a simple date or even saying no to a party that my parents even gave me permission to attend.  

In my mind, I was looking for someone who would treat me like how my dad treats my mom. But living in a different generation from my parents, the boys back in high school were all about sliding your panties down your legs, and after that, see ya! 

When I met Yunjin, I didn’t expect a romance would spark. It was a friendly encounter, then hanging out after lectures to study dates. Until the day Yunjin confessed that she was attracted to me and wanted to ask me for a date. 

I was a nervous wreck. I didn’t know what to do or what to say.  

But I agreed. And it made me happy. 

She made me happy. 

Until she didn’t. 

You see, after university, Yunjin convinced me to apply to a huge international corporation for which she had wanted to work forever. We submitted our CVs, and we were called for an interview. 

I didn’t want to go, honestly speaking. I originally wanted to work for a government institution, but I had no choice; otherwise, it would become another silent treatment I’m somewhat used to. 

I got accepted, but she didn’t. 

And it all started going down since then. 

I endured disrespect, dishonesty, and manipulation for the rest of our relationship because I love her as a partner and as a person. 

She had been talking shit behind my back to our mutual friends, saying that I’d been arrogant since getting accepted to her dream company. She had been making me feel like garbage every time we were together, would purposely ignore me whenever I was talking or would humiliate me in public instead of lecturing me in private. 

I was twenty-one when I started working in the company that began every downfall of our relationship. 

I’m already twenty-seven—turning twenty-eight, and it took me nearly seven years to realize that enough is enough. 

The last straw was when I found out that she had been unfaithful for quite some time.  

Her phone was left unattended, and it rang when a call came in. She hated it whenever I’d go near her personal belongings, especially her phone, so I didn’t pick it up. But as soon the device stopped ringing, another call would come in. 

I answered it, and it came to my knowledge that she had been seeing another woman from her workplace. 

When I confronted her about it, instead of apologizing, she almost made it seem like she had prepared a presentation of what I had done wrong and what I could’ve done better. 

“How come this became my fault?” my voice cracked as a salty stream of tears escaped my eyes. I was seated on the couch in the living room of our shared apartment while I watched her pack her belongings.  

Yunjin continues shoving her clothes into the duffle bag I got her last Christmas. She scoffs, zipping the bag and slinging the strap to her shoulders while her other hand grabs her old suitcase. “If you weren’t so conceited and would always shove into my face that you have a better career, salary, and status in life, I probably would have stayed with you. But no, you’ve done this, you’ve done that. Your family doesn’t even like me—” 

“Why do you always have to bring my family to every argument?” I get up from the couch and walk in her direction, thinking I would have understood her point better if I had stood close to her. 

Yunjin sighs my name, dropping the duffel bag from her shoulder. Her hands rub her face tiredly before facing me with an exhausted face. “We’re two individuals who came from different worlds, okay? You don’t even have a student loan because your father could pay for your tuition without sweat. While I had to work twelve hours a day to buy food still while I pay off my debt.” 

I shake my head, smiling bitterly. My bottom lip trembled, and I had to bite it to hide my vulnerability. My body is shaking from anger; at the same time, I want to bawl my eyes out, scream on the rooftop, and punch a mirror so the pain would be diverted to my fist instead of my aching heart. 

“Just go,” my energy is on its limit. I’m beyond exhausted, and I just want to be alone at this point. The thin thread that I’ve been holding on to for years has finally given up, and my palm is bleeding for holding on to it for so long. 

She left, and I cried the whole night. 

I cried for the years that I lost being with someone who didn’t see my worth and who didn’t appreciate who I am and what I achieved in life. 

I cried for days, weeks, months.  

Until I couldn’t anymore. 

When I decided to move back to my parents’ house, I had never seen them so delighted for the longest time.  

I do not understand Yunjin’s sentiments about my parents. They’ve been nothing but nice to her. They even offered to help her get a job when she didn’t get accepted to the company she wanted, and they even offered to help us with the deposit when we decided to get a place of our own. 

My mom had always wanted a grandchild; she does, but she has never spoken about it out loud. Too considerate that she might offend us. I heard about it from my aunt, who loves to gossip here and there. 

I also want it, especially with someone I see my future with. 

When I asked Yunjin if we should consider adopting a child of our own or opting for IVF, she laughed at my face, saying that I was ridiculous for even wanting a child. 

“You know you’ll lose your freedom with a kid on board, right?” 

I also quit my job as it reminds me how Yunjin would always say that I’m conceited because I got in, and if it weren’t for her recommendation to apply, I wouldn’t be where I am. When my high school friends heard the news, they all called me and comforted me. However, one suggested, “You need to get the things you’ve given her. Take it all back! We need to revenge what she did to you.” 

Another one even suggested, “Make a TikTok on how she cheated on you. We’ll make it viral, and she would lose everything.” 

Although thankful for their thoughtfulness, I decided to deactivate all my social media accounts and spend time healing.  

When the third month came, I searched the internet for a job, preferably with a much smaller group of people. And I’m glad I found a posting three days ago looking for a Mobile app Developer. I read the company’s background and was thrilled to see it was a startup company. 

“Why did you decide to leave your previous job?”  

Since it’s a startup company built just two years ago, HR warned me that the final interview would be with its founder.  

“He’s meticulous,” they said, more like a whisper, though the tone of their voice was more on the playful side. 

Kim Junmyeon. That’s his name written on the nameplate on his desk. 

My lips stretched into a polite smile, patting myself on the back for rehearsing in case I get asked this question. I want nothing but to be honest. “I’ve been there for seven years, and I can say that I contributed many ideas and showcased my skillset to the company. However, I had to take time off and focus on my well-being for personal reasons. But now that all is well, I’m confident I can return to work and optimistically deliver my potential to this company.” 

Kim Junmyeon looks at me momentarily before nodding his head, though his brows are still furrowed, as if he’s still unconvinced by my answer. “But why not apply for a much larger company than us? Their salary range would be way higher than ours. Don’t get me wrong, but your resumé is impressive, and not that I doubt my business, but why here?” 

I clear my throat, straightening my posture before rubbing my palm on my pencil skirt. “Do you mind if I’d be honest?” 

“Please,” his response is quick as if he’s been waiting for me to say those words. 

“It’s not about the compensation,” I start, sighing as I remember the stress I experienced from working in a larger corporation. “I’m looking for a place to work where I can be excited to get up from bed and drive to work. Not worry about being on top but just enjoying where I’d be while doing what I could. And I see potential in your company. Not only in economic growth but also in providing employees with a healthy environment while paying their dues.” 

The founder’s eyes are on me, unmoving a muscle as he stares at my face, studying my expression while I talk. When I receive no response from him, I continue, “Am I wrong?” 

My heart felt like it would jump out of my chest any minute, and I couldn’t be more thankful when his brows finally relaxed. He leaned on his chair, sighed, and finally smiled.  

“There’s only one way to find out, right?” 

Back in my previous job, we were supposed to always show up at the office in business attire; it didn’t matter what department you are from, everyone needs to follow the policy. 

I couldn’t be more surprised when I walked into the office, noticing that most of the employees are wearing jeans and sneakers; while I’m dressed in a dress shirt and tight skirt, I’m even wearing a pumps heel. 

Jessi, the team leader for the Marketing department, eyes me from head to toe with a judging look. We just met ten minutes ago when HR endorsed me to her team for the time being while they actively acquire other Developers to join the company. 

“Girl, who died?” 

Nayeon, one of Jessi’s team members, gasps, “Jessi, that’s not a nice thing to say!” 

Instead of feeling humiliated, like when Yunjin would say things like this, I laugh, shaking my head as I shrug my shoulders. “I didn’t get the memo that I can wear pajamas at work.” 

Jessi snorts, clapping her hands at my remark. “You can be nude, and one of the executives will be more than happy to welcome you.” 

Throughout the day, I did nothing but chat with Jessi and her team. They are all nice and welcoming, though a bit sarcastic. I learned a lot about the company and its policies, and I know that HR might have missed disclosing information when I signed the job offer. 

The company is on a first-name basis; it was not like we are not allowed to address upper management formally, but it was said that they prefer to be called by their first name.  

So, should I call the founder Junmyeon? Just Junmyeon? 

I shiver when Jessi tells me to be comfortable with the executives; they are nice people who care about their employees’ well-being. 

Back at my previous job, I remember stopping in the hallway and bowing my head until it reached my stomach every time I’d pass by a boss. 

“Girl, just be comfortable,” Jessi pats my shoulder before throwing her laptop inside her bag and grabbing her keys when the clock hasn’t hit exactly five in the afternoon. It’s still 4:58. 

When she notices my baffled expression, she gives me a pitiful look, caressing my face with her thumb, and it didn’t fail to make my heart thump inside my chest. “You’re so precious and fragile. Come to Mama when someone here makes you cry, alright?” 

Jessi walks out of the operational floor laughing when she realizes how hard I am blushing just hearing her words. 

Nayeon, who sits across my workstation, shakes her head and starts packing her things. Her smile shines bright when she turned to look at me. I suck in my breath while I wait for whatever she’s going to say. 

Gosh, why is everyone so freaking gorgeous here? 

“We have flexibility regarding our work schedule,” Nayeon explains, standing up from the ergonomic chair and waving the other team members goodbye. “As long as you’re done with your task for the day, you can go home or whatever. If you notice, we don’t need a badge to log in and out for the day. The company hired us because they trust us.” 

I’m the last one to leave my table. Everyone in Jessi’s team came to my cubicle to say goodbye and tell me to take care of myself on the way home. 

I’m in shock—in utter shock. Is this what they call a culture shock? It's a good thing, though. I even had to slap my cheek to see if I’m dreaming, but when the stinging pain on the right side of my face seemed real, my chest suddenly feels light, and my eyes brim with happy tears. 

When I wrap my things up, I glance at the place I’d be working, hopefully for a long time. I want to see myself contributing to this company and building relationships with the awesome people I’ve met so far. 

While waiting for the elevator, I look down at my outfit, take a mental note to clutter my office attire somewhere else and opt for more casual clothes once I get home.  

I can’t help but bounce on my feet in excitement once I get home and tell my parents how work was today. I feel like a kid whose parents are waiting at home for their child to tell them how school was for the day. 

When the elevator dings, I look up from the floor and am greeted by a young-looking male who looks like he’s been sleep-deprived for days. I bow my head and smile at him as I step inside the lift. My index finger lifts to press the basement parking but lets out a soft oh when it’s already lightened up. 

I gave the man a tight smile when I realized he’d watched my every movement. My eyes are locked on the small screen atop the elevator, watching the number of floors decrease by each second.  

“Are you a new hire?” a velvety voice rings through my ear, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.  

With my eyes wide open, I shift my eyes away from the screen and turn my head to look at him with the gentlest smile I could ever give a person. “Yes, sir.” 

When he made a face from hearing me say, sir, I pursed my lips, closing my eyes for a second before uttering an apology. However, he just chuckled huskily while shaking his head.  

I heave a deep sigh, turning my head to look away from him and face upfront. I didn’t even notice that I was holding my breath for the rest of the elevator ride until I stepped out of the box.  

My hand fishes out my car keys from my bag and was about to turn on my heels to the left side of the parking space when the man from the elevator cleared his throat to catch my attention.  

“Welcome to the company,” he smiles, raising his left hand as if to greet me from afar, and walks away. 

The interaction was so quick that I didn’t even get a chance to say thanks or raise my hand as a greeting, but I did the latter on his back as I watched him unlock a sleek black vehicle with four rings aligned horizontally on the grille. Damn. 

It’s finally Friday. Don’t get me wrong. I’m having the time of my work life here, but I still need a break. I will spend the rest of the weekend at home in my pajamas and binge-watch a new series on Netflix.  

When the clock hits three in the afternoon, surprise is an understatement when everyone cheered from their seat and went to the Zen area of the office.  

Jessi, who seems to be my trainer when it comes to things I should know about here, closed my laptop without permission and asked me to stand up from my chair, and when I did, she hooked her arms with mine and dragged me to where everyone was hurrying to. 

I’m in awe when the Zen area is rearranged with tables, drinks, and food. Everyone converses happily while holding a glass of champagne, while the others have wine. 

“This, my child, is what we call a Happy Hour,” Jessi tightened her hold on my arms while her other hand slowly moved from left to right to educate me about their culture here, exaggeratedly—her words, not mine. 

We are listening to Jessi’s rant about her Tinder date last weekend when everyone notices Junmyeon walking in the area. I could feel Jessi’s eyes on me while she waited for me to bow my head off out of reflex, but I scrunched my nose at her when I didn’t. 

When Junmyeon walks over to our table to greet Jessi’s team, I notice someone walking behind him. It was the man from the elevator on my first day in here. 

He looks neater than when I saw him last time. His dress shirt is unbuttoned until he reaches his chest, showing his prominent collarbone and the skin of his chest. His hair has been brushed up, showcasing his clear forehead. 

“Ah, Baekhyun!” Jessi hollers, slapping the table with her palm as the two men reach our table. “You finally decided to take a shower, huh?” 

The man from the elevator, whom Jessi addressed as Baekhyun, laughs, snatching Jessi’s glass of wine to take a huge sip. “I finally paid the utility bill yesterday, so the water’s back.” Everyone from Jessi’s team laughs, even Junmyeon, who sat in front of me.  

“Oh, she’s the new hire!” I tense in my spot when Baekhyun sits on the empty chair beside me. Nayeon just walked out to the toilet, and he quickly moved to occupy her spot. Junmyeon rolls his eyes, shaking his head at Baekhyun’s unnecessary enthusiasm.  

Nonetheless, I plastered a kind smile, nodding to confirm his statement. “I am the new hire, yes.” 

Baekhyun raises his brow, and the corner of his lips quirks as he stares intently at my orbs. “No, sir?” 

I almost choked on my saliva, the event from high school when boys would blatantly flirt with me flashing right before my eyes. I laugh awkwardly, my foot under the table, blindly nudging Jessi’s shoes to ask for help. 

My attraction to the opposite sex is nearly nonexistent. I would feel awkward until I gathered the courage to let them know my preference. 

I heard Jessi sigh, and I turned my head to look at her like a clueless sheep. “Just ignore him.” 

“Hey, that’s not nice!” Baekhyun complains, his voice turning to a whine.  

“Baekhyun, can you not flirt with every female in this company, please?” Junmyeon interrupts, though the tone of his voice is gentle and kind. 

“Excuse me? I do not flirt with every female in this company. You guys are making me look like I’m a total perv.” 

“You are a perv, Baekhyun. Stop fooling yourself.” Jessi deadpans, and I saw how everyone subtly agreed. 

Baekhyun huffs, crossing his arms on his chest. “You guys, I thought we’re all friends here, yet here you are, ruining my moment.” 

I decided to ignore him, just like Jessi’s advice and turn my focus back to her disastrous Tinder date. However, every time Baekhyun tried to start a conversation, I would still respond politely, but with a lack of interest, to send a message that I did not want to associate myself with his thoughts. 

It has come to my knowledge that the company would have a Happy Hour every other Friday where drinks and food would be available from three in the afternoon until five.  

“We’re into work and life balance here,” Nayeon giggles, a bit tipsy, when I asked her why a company would serve an alcoholic beverage to its employee when they were supposed to work their asses off. 

Weeks have passed, and I’m getting used to the company’s culture. I started to enjoy getting out of bed and running a bit before preparing to get to work.  

My parents even noticed the improvement in my mental and physical health. I’ve literally stopped crying and would meet people on weekends instead of locking myself inside their homes. 

I also became much closer to Jessi and her team, especially Nayeon, who I found out is a few years younger than .e, and this is her first job, so I decided to stay rather than look for a larger opportunity. 

Junmyeon, the founder of the company, is a very hands-on man. He would have to walk to each department every other day to talk to the team and ask them for any concerns he should know about and any feedback an employee might have. 

I also found out that Baekhyun, that playful man when he’s not behind his laptop, is the executive director of the company. Built the company beside Junmyeon and is two years older than me. He’s single and loves to play computer games in his free time.  

How do I know all of these? 

Well, he’d magically appear at Jessi’s team meeting whenever he’d have a chance to inspect and get an insight into the Marketing team’s status. Those were his excuses when Jessi tried to kick him out. And since I’m not actually part of Marketing, I would idle at the corner of the meeting room, and he’d sit beside me as he rambles while doodling on his iPad. 

I feel sorry for judging him during my first Happy Hour experience. Baekhyun is a nice guy. A good person, a funny one. He’s comical—and yes, flirtatious, but when it comes to work, he takes every detail seriously.  

“Do you work out?” Baekhyun suddenly asks when I bump into him in the elevator when I’m done for the day.  

I shrug my shoulders, stretching my neck from side to side, totally spent from working the whole day. “I run every other morning, but I used to go to the gym when I was younger.” 

Baekhyun’s laughter booms inside the lift, and it is so loud that I swear the elevator shook a little. “You talk like you’re already in your sixties.” 

“Well, it feels like it.” 

I couldn’t stop the smile that was slowly spreading on my lips when Baekhyun was unable to stop laughing; he even slapped my shoulder and arm, though not forcefully. 

When we got out of the elevator, I realized that he was walking to where I parked my car. I looked at him to silently ask what he was doing, but when he fished out his car key from the pocket of his pants and pressed the unlock button, the vehicle beside mine lit up—indicating that it had been unlocked. 

I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head. I open the driver seat side, and before going in, I peek over my shoulder to give him a playful judging look. “Do you really need to park beside me?” 

Baekhyun shrugs, crossing his arms on his chest leaning the side of his body on his car. “What can I say? I’m a clingy guy.” He even ended his sentence with a wink while biting his bottom lip. 

Knowing how playful he can be, I pretend to stick my index finger down my throat to induce a vomit. 

His laugh echoed around the basement, and before he got inside his car, he called my name. “Do you want to know why I ask if you work out?” 

“Why?” 

“Because I’ve never seen an ass look that good when you wore that tight pencil skirt on your first day.” 

I gasped loudly, stomping my feet to hit him or even had a thought of pulling his hair out of his scalp, but before I could reach his spot, he immediately opened his car and locked the door, sticking his tongue out when I tried to open it, slamming my fist on his window. 

He drove off, leaving me all flustered in the empty basement parking. 

When Baekhyun realized that I do not get offended by his advances—many provocative advances, I must say, he started texting me on weekends, asking me about random stuff, or sometimes even asking me to meet up. 

Where the hell did you get my personal mobile number? Sent | 9:48 PM 

Omg, did Jessi give it to you? Sent | 9:48 PM 

Ah, no. She’ll chuck you in the head before you even ask for it. Sent | 9:49 PM 

I can’t believe that I’m sitting on my bed, grabbing the remote control to pause Netflix just to respond to this guy. 

Haha! Received | 9:51 PM 

I may or may not have sneaked into your resumé. Received | 9:51 PM 

You look hot in your photo in there. Received | 9:52 PM 

I couldn’t help but scoff at his last text message, though a smile was forming in my mouth. My fingers are quick to type a reply. 

Sometimes, I get scared of what goes on in your mind. Sent | 9:58 PM 

Do you need anything, by the way? Sent | 9:59 PM 

Let me know before I go to sleep. Sent | 9:59 PM 

His reply came in an instant. It’s like he’d been waiting for me to ask, and he’s already typed his answer. 

You, baby. Received | 9:59 PM 

I left him on read, jumping from my bed to take a cold shower—too bothered by his response and by the way he addressed me. This is the first time he has called me differently than my name. 

The next morning, I was awoken by the birds chirping outside my window. I tap on my phone and see that it’s already 8:30 in the morning. I turned off the Do Not Disturb feature, and several messages appeared in the notification. 

I’m hurt that you left me on read. Received | 10:30 PM 

Are you still there? Received | 10:48 PM 

Are you that old to sleep this early? Received | 11:05 PM 

I’m going to call you grandma starting today. Received | 11:10 PM 

I think you really have gone to bed. Received | 11:25 PM 

Good night, baby. Dream of me. Received | 11:27 PM 

Oh, sorry. Received | 11:27 PM 

Good night, Grandma. Received | 11:28 PM 

I snicker upon reading his messages that I slept on. At the same time, my mom knocked on my door before peeking inside when I told her to come in.  

“I made pancakes, darling.” she smiled, knowing how much I love her pancakes and seeing me excitedly jump off my bed to run downstairs. 

Throughout the day, I helped with house chores since my dad had to go to work, and my mom needed to prepare a lesson plan for her homeroom class. I didn’t have a chance to check my phone for notifications as I deactivated my social media, and my friends haven’t contacted me since. I prefer not to work on weekends. Also, there was some advice from Jessi and Junmyeon to stay away from work-related things during the weekend. 

I had an early supper with my parents and had to take the two rescued dogs my mom adopted from the shelter to walk before I was done for the day. 

I groan when my back touches the fluffy duvet on my bed. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before unlocking my phone and was honestly surprised to see tons of messages from Baekhyun.  

“Oh, shit,” I cursed under my breath when I realized that I forgot to reply to his last message and left him on read again. Even though he annoys me on a day-to-day basis, he’s someone who doesn’t deserve to be disregarded when he’s done nothing wrong. 

I scrolled through his texts, and most of them were just whining and complaining about why I was not responding to him.  

Are you really that busy on Sunday? Received | 11:18 AM 

I’m starting to think that you really are a grandma who has nine children and forty grandchildren. Received | 3:10 PM 

His last message was sent twenty minutes ago. 

Can I call you? Received | 8:10 PM 

Without thinking further, I tap on the call icon and place my phone on my right ear as I wait for him to answer the call. 

Instead of the normal hello when someone answers a phone call, I received a gasp then, “Grandma knows how to make phone calls now!” 

I shake my head, laughing softly, before I sigh and plop my head on the pillow. “I was busy the whole day, sorry. What’s up?” 

“My dick.” he sniggers on the other line—he should be thankful that he did not just say that in front of me, else I’ll probably slap the shit out of him. 

I purposely yawn for him to hear, shuffling on my bed to lie on my side. “Your dick is like my patience—short.” 

I could hear the sheets from his line, and he was probably on his bed as well. “You did not!” 

“I just did,” I smirk even though he can’t see it, it’s still satisfying. 

“Do you want me to send you a picture to prove that he’s not small?” he challenges, and I’m surprised that he actually sounds offended. “Because I will.” 

“Baekhyun—” I hiss, sitting up on my bed and rubbing my temple, just thinking that he might really send a picture of his shaft. “Do not freaking send a picture of your penis to me, please. I’m going to screenshot your message; if you do, print it on an A4 paper, laminate it, and send it to Junmyeon. I swear, I will.” 

“Okay, that was a good threat.” Baekhyun laughs it off, and I’m glad that he just moved on from the topic so quickly. “Sorry, I was bored the whole day. I don’t have any schedule, and I honestly wanted to talk to you.” 

“Seriously, Baekhyun. Why don’t you just play your game or something? I thought you love gaming and stuff.” 

I stopped rubbing my eyes with my fingers when he didn’t respond to what I just said like he always does. He stays silent on the other line for approximately more than fifteen seconds, and I had to confirm if he’s still there. “Hello? Did the line get disconnected?” 

But when I heard him clear his throat and take a sharp breath, I knew that he had heard what I had just said. He’s probably just tired; that’s what I thought. 

“Y-yeah, I’m still here.” 

“Oh, alright. Well, you’re probably tired and—” 

“No, no! I’m not tired or sleepy. I’m just—” 

“Just?” I press on, getting bothered by how the Byun Baekhyun everyone knows at the company is stuttering and at a loss for words. 

“That’s the thing, baby.”  

Once again, I tense upon hearing the pet name he’s been addressing me by since last night.  

“I would normally ignore all calls and texts when I’m playing—even from my own mother, but I’ve been pausing the game the whole day to check if you texted me back or even read my texts.” 

It took me a few seconds before I comprehended the meaning behind his words. My eyes widened on their own, my saliva was caught in my throat, and I couldn’t find my voice to speak and respond to him. 

“Baekhyun, I—” 

“Please don’t say no—please don’t.” he cut me off, his voice loud as he spoke. “I’m trying to figure things out. I’m trying, okay? I really am. I—this is new to me. So, please... don’t say no for now.” 

I didn’t know what to say or how I would break into him if I swung for the same team. He sounds so sincere that I do not have the heart to crush his soul, especially not on a Sunday night.  

“O-okay...” was all I could say. 

I believe that made him satisfied as he’s back from his usual chirpy self and continued complaining about how I should handle my messages as they could be important. 

“What could be so important that I need to drop everything and answer my phone?” I snort, my hand reaching to my nightstand to turn off the light so the darkness can lull me to sleep. 

“Me, of course.” 

Jessi has warned me, not really warn, but informed me that Baekhyun is a huge flirt and I should just ignore him as he is known to woo every single new hire in the company. I heard stories from every department as well that Baekhyun was too friendly to them when they first joined the company. 

But this was before he started getting too close to me. I didn’t mind because he is kind and considerate despite the fact that he would annoy the shit out of me every single time he’d get a chance. I could see him as a friend. 

I thought that he’s just playing around, that the stories I’ve been hearing are a hundred percent true, and he would move on to the next new hire once he met her. 

But boy, did my heart flutter when Jessi has a new member added to her team as a Brand Associate, and I’m already expecting Baekhyun to make the same move he had done to me when he suddenly appeared at Jessi’s corner with an iced latte in his hand and placed it on my table without any funny business but a soft good morning and a pat on my head before walking away, not even glancing to the new hire. 

Ever since I switched workstations with the new hire, whose name is Miyeon, my gossip buddy, Jessi, has had to send me a message via MS Teams instead. Hence, it didn’t come as a surprise that a notification ding chimes from my laptop as soon as Baekhyun walks out of sight. 

Jessica Ho | 9:03 AM: What the actual fuck just happened? 

I just responded with a laughing GIF, not knowing how or what to reply to her message. Because I, myself, am astounded as fuck. 

A little over two months after I joined the company, I got accustomed to seeing Baekhyun in the elevator after work so we could go down to the basement parking together—it was like he knew what time I usually finished my tasks, so when the elevator arrived, and he was not there, I was utterly dumbfounded. 

Where are you? Sent | 5:01 PM 

Is everything okay? Sent | 5:12 PM 

I sit inside my car as I stare at the sleek black vehicle parked beside mine. I waited for another thirty minutes to see if he’d respond to my messages or would appear in his car, but neither happened. Therefore, I decided to just drive home. 

We’ve known each other not too long ago, but I can’t help but feel worried about his whereabouts when he would normally pop up like a mushroom literally anywhere.  

However, I don’t want to pry on it too much.  

Not that we are just friends, but Yunjin used to yell nasty things when I would ask where she was or what time she’d be home—I’m scared that Baekhyun might do the same. 

Would it be too annoying? Should I delete my messages before he can see them? 

I flip my bag upside down so the contents would scatter on my bed as I hastily look for my phone. I decided that it’s better to just delete the messages, just because. 

When I see the unread messages I ignored while I was driving, my heart starts to thump loudly in my chest. Did he find it annoying? Would he ask me to stop texting him without any reason? 

Shit, baby, I’m sorry! Received | 5:48 PM 

I was in an extended meeting. The stakeholders needed my input, so I couldn’t check my phone. Are you still in the office? Received | 5:49 PM 

You didn’t wait for me? ): Received | 6:00 PM 

I was biting my bottom lip when I read his texts, but laughter escaped my mouth when I viewed the image he sent. It’s a photo of his car parked in his usual spot and the empty space on the left side where my vehicle usually parks. He added a crying sticker to it to emphasize how surprised he was to see that I left without waiting for him. 

Please text or call me once you get home safely. Received | 6:02 PM 

I’ll let you know next time if I’m going to be late. I’m sorry. &lt;3 Received | 6:02 PM 

Why is he apologizing? Shouldn’t he be mad about how I disturb him during work hours? Baekhyun is a busy man, but he has an important role in Junmyeon’s company. 

Nonetheless, my fingers start to tap on the screen of my phone to respond. 

Yeah, I just arrived home. Sorry for asking. I was worried that something might have happened. Hope the meeting was a success. Sent | 6:31 PM 

Once I cleaned up the mess I made on the bed while I was frantic over a text that I sent, I strip my clothes to shower, but when I was about to enter the bathroom, my phone starts to ring, indicating a call. 

Baekhyun’s name flashes on the screen as he waits for his Facetime request to be answered. 

“Why’s the camera facing the ceiling?” Baekhyun laughs; his voice is husky yet gentle. His surroundings are a bit dim, his face being illuminated by the red accent light of his car while he drives. “Let me see your gorgeous face, baby.” 

Getting used to the endearment he always uses, I scoff while rolling my eyes even though he can’t see it. “Why are you calling me while you’re driving?” 

He shrugs, his face full of smug. “We didn’t see each other the whole day. You were busy, and I was busy. Payroll missed another deadline. My secretary fucked up a report. Junmyeon was demanding. Everyone was a bitch, basically.” 

I laugh, my eyes crinkling in the process as I listen to his rant. Since he was talking a bit faster than usual, his dialect unconsciously came out, and it was freaking adorable. 

“My hands are on the wheels, baby—don’t worry. Now, let me see your face, please—with a cherry on top?” 

“Baekhyun!” I shriek, thankful that I am home alone at the moment. “I’m about to take a shower, and I’m butt naked, alright?” 

He dramatically gasps, hands hurriedly rotating the steering wheel to the side of the road before pressing the hazard button, and the ticking sound resonates from his line. 

“Oh yeah?” His voice turned sultry as his eyes switched to a more intent gaze. “You really know how to de-stress me, huh?” 

Like a fish out of the water, my mouth opened and closed on its own as if I’m having a hard time breathing. “You—Baekhyun!” 

“Come on, baby. I won’t even look that much.” His tone was back to playful when he covered his eyes with his hand, and then, for a little while, he peeked through the spaces of his fingers.  

Knowing Baekhyun, he won’t stop and would bother me all night long—or probably until the next day, but I don’t want to be hussy. Thus, I finally tilted my phone to show my face and my bare shoulder—showcasing my collarbone to the front camera. “I really need to shower, Baekhyun. I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“I misheard it with: I’ll show you later,” he cackles, his eyes forming a crescent shape as he laughs, and his perfectly aligned teeth are shown. “Alright, baby. Call me when you’re done.” 

“Alright,” I assure with a purr while raising an eyebrow when an idea pops into my head. “And about showing you later—we’ll see about that.” 

I wish I was able to capture the moment Baekhyun’s eyes almost pop out from their socket, and his jaw dropped upon hearing my words, before I tap the end call button. I honestly didn’t expect that kind of reaction from him, and it’s kind of amusing.  

“So,” Jessi bumps her hips with mine while I wash my hands after using the toilet. She uncapped her lipstick and reapplied the makeup on her face. “How many times do you and Baekhyun do it in a week?” 

I swear that I heard my neck crack how fast I snap my head to look at Jessi with wide eyes. “You’re being ridiculous!” 

She scoffs, leaning the side of her hip on the sink as she turns to give me a judging look, arms crossed on her chest. “We’re both adults, and there’s nothing wrong with discussing your sex life with a friend.” 

I choke on my own saliva, “My—my sex life?”  

To be honest, I haven’t been touched since my last relationship. Of course, it crossed my mind here and then, especially when Baekhyun started putting his hand on my thigh every time we sat beside each other, or the way his hand would automatically wrap on my shoulders—sometimes my waist, a bit too intimately; he has also started kissing my cheek—though it’d be just a quick and light one, it wouldn’t fail to leave me blushing for the rest of the day.  

But as much as possible, I don’t want to put much thought into it since he’s that playful. 

“Wait—so, and you’re saying that—” Jessi stops mid-sentence like she’s solving a fraction in her head, her brows furrowed. “You guys haven’t had sex yet?” 

“No!” I quickly defended, my hands flicking some drops of water to her face, making her hiss. “We’re not like that.” 

“We’re not like that,” Jessi mimics with a high-pitched tone of her voice, rolling her eyes before zipping up her make-up bag. “Honey, Baekhyun would always look at you like he’s going to eat your vagina.” 

“Can you not?” I gasp, turning on my heels to get out of the washroom to hide my flushed face. I swear I feel how warmth crept through my body.  

Jessi followed my suit, laughing as she closed the door behind her. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Update me when it finally happens!” 

That incident made me reject Baekhyun’s phone calls when the clock hit five. I left the office quite early to avoid any interaction for now—hopefully. It’s not only that I got bothered sexually, but the fact that I haven’t told anyone, even Baekhyun, that I have not been together with a guy before—and the fact that I’ve only been attracted to a woman... up until Baekhyun. 

Yes, I am not denying that over the time we spent together, I got attached to him. Like, if we don’t see each other during the day because of our workload, both of us would make an effort, be it via Facetime, a quick drive late at night, or sometimes I would drive near his place, or he would drive near mine so we could meet for a meal or drink. 

Baekhyun is a sweet guy. He’s considerate, though a pervert. He notices small things and makes it matter how I like my coffee in the morning, how I don’t like pickles in my burger, or how I’m fond of adorable cheap stuff that he once gave me a three-dollar pastel keychain because it reminds him of me, on how I love my mom’s dogs that he bought them few toys to chew on, or even creating a playlist on Spotify and sending it to me. 

The list goes on... 

And one thing I’ve noticed since he started sticking around. He has never, ever flirted with another girl, at least not in front of me, or not in my knowledge. 

I remember one happy hour in the office when Miyeon tried to start a conversation with Baekhyun. He was civil and got engaged with the topic; however, when he noticed that she started to get tipsy and touchy with him, he got up after giving some lame excuse before looking for me, who was busy at my desk and unable to join the event.  

That story came from Nayeon. She was surprised, to say the least. “You got him all whipped,” she said, giggling like a teenager. 

I didn’t even know the reason at first when Baekhyun appeared in Jessi’s corner, wheeling a chair with him and sitting beside me, watching me work for two hours straight before giving up and calling it a day. 

“Don’t you have any important things to do?” I snort, packing my things up and slinging my bag on my shoulder, but I was snatched right away by Baekhyun, who carried it instead. 

“You’re important to me, baby, or you haven’t gotten the memo yet?” 

That conversation stayed in my mind until now. And I don’t think it’d flow out of my head for a while. 

I know what we have been doing is far beyond what casual friends would do. And I didn’t stop him the first time. Why didn’t I? If I don’t like him, I should’ve told him that, hey, I’ve been attracted to women—only women. Or so I thought. 

At the same time, I’m scared. 

My last relationship didn’t end well. I was treated like garbage for years. I was humiliated and stepped on everything I did. My ex made me feel like I didn’t deserve whatever I accomplished after university—that everything I have is because of her. 

And although I tried so hard to connect my ex with my parents, it just didn’t work.  

“We’re adults now, and we don’t need to be with our parents.” That’s what she reminded me of every time I’d ask to see my parents and be with them on holidays or even on their birthdays. “Just send them a text.” she’d add. 

My dad and my mom didn’t say anything. They were supported and would say that they didn’t want to be a cause of argument between us.  

But I know. 

I know they wanted me to be there; they wanted me to come home and eat dinner with them and laugh and chat in the living room while a variety show plays in the background. 

But Baekhyun won’t do that, right? 

If I finally take a step forward, he’s not going to change, right? 

Because it would hurt like hell because I trust him. 

For the short amount of time I’ve spent with him, he made me feel like no one else—not even my ex when we started dating back in university. 

Are you okay? Is everything okay? Received | 9:03 PM 

Did I do something wrong? Received | 9:04 PM 

I snapped out of my thoughts when my phone dings as messages came in. It’s Baekhyun. I glanced at the screen of my phone. It stopped ringing an hour ago due to countless phone calls he was making. 

I don’t know if I did something you’re mad about, but please let me know if I took something too far. I will apologize and make it up to you. Received | 9:08 PM 

But please don’t ignore me. Received | 9:09 PM 

I kept staring at my phone as I read his messages and waited for another one to come in. 

You’re reading my texts, but you’re not answering my calls, baby. I’m honestly getting worried. Received | 9:11 PM 

I’m sorry if I made you angry, but can you at least tell me if you’re okay? I’m going crazy over here. Received | 9:25 PM 

Reading his last text, I finally decided to move my fingers to reply. He has done nothing wrong, and I’m the one who has an issue. Hence, it’s not fair for him to endure whatever I’m doing. 

I’m fine. Just not feeling a hundred percent. I’m sorry for not responding. Sent | 9:32 PM 

Don't worry, I’m not mad. :) Sent | 9:33 PM 

I throw my phone to the side, and my hand extends to the lamp on my nightstand. I shift my position to my side, pulling the duvet up to my shoulders as I close my eyes to sleep for the night. 

I had enough thoughts running in my head, and sleeping this early on a Friday night might be a good idea for my mental health. 

I think I slept for like thirty minutes until my phone started to vibrate under my pillow, waking me up. I blindly reach for my eyeglasses on my side and wear them before answering the call.  

Baekhyun. 

I sit up on the bed, eyes wide, as I tap the green button to accept the call. “Hello?” I croaked, rubbing my throat. It felt really dry upon speaking. 

“Oh, crap! You were asleep?” 

I grunt in response, running my fingers through my hair before getting up from the bed to turn on the lights in my bedroom. 

“Oh, I think I got the correct house.” 

“H-huh?” I’m half-asleep and unable to comprehend his sentence clearly. 

“Did you just turn on the lights, baby?” 

As if I didn’t know, I look at the ceiling light to see if it’s really turned on, and almost face-palm myself when I remember that I flicked the switch literally ten seconds ago. “Yeah, I did. Why?” 

“Ugh, I thought Junmyeon would lie about this.” he exhales, and I heard him getting out of his car. “Can you come out for a bit, baby? I’m outside your house.” 

Without ending the call, my phone still pressed on my right ear; I hastily run downstairs, almost tripping on the way down, earning worried looks from my parents, who are still in the formal living space, chatting. 

“Oh, God, honey!” My mom stands on her feet, her hands on her chest when I reach the floor. “Careful, please!” 

My dad stands up as well, walking in my direction to check if I had any injury when I didn’t fall. “Let’s end this night without any injuries, alright, sweetheart?” 

I nod my head hurriedly, plastering an innocent grin on my face, pressing the end call button on my phone. “Sorry, sorry. I just—someone’s outside, so... I’ll be heading out quickly.” 

My dad nods his head with a fatherly smile, telling me to be careful, and I think he’s just happy that I started going out again. At the same time, my mom looks like she’s going to peek out the window to see who I’m meeting at this hour. 

“Uh... dad? Can you please control mom?” 

My dad turns his head to my mom, who immediately smiles innocently. It's like she’s not about to ask me thousands of questions about who I’m going to meet in my sleepwear. 

He shakes his head, though fondly. “Just go, sweetheart. I’ll handle your mom. Tell her we said hi.” 

I nod, grinning widely. “Of course. I’ll let him know.” 

My dad blinks several times before gasping loudly, and like a signal light, my mom squeals, jumping on her feet happily.  

I laugh at their reaction before opening the front door. “I’ll be back later!” 

Baekhyun’s face lit up upon seeing me getting out of the door. He starts to walk to meet me halfway and engulfs me in a hug. His hand is on the back of my head, while his other hand is placed on the small of my back. “I was so worried.” 

I rubbed his back for a while before I reciprocated the hug by hugging his waist closer to me. “I’m sorry.” 

He pulls away, placing a hand on my forehead and then my neck. “You don’t have a fever...” 

I chuckle, slapping his chest lightly. “No, I’m not sick. I’m just tired and have a lot going on in my head for days now.” 

His eyes lock with mine, as if trying to read what has been going on in my mind. “I’m here if you need me.” 

Before I could even respond, I heard rustling inside the house. I peek over my shoulder and see how my mom and my dad hid behind the curtains by the window. Baekhyun follows where I’m looking and tilts his head in confusion when he sees nothing. 

“My parents are watching us,” I shake my head as I try to pull Baekhyun towards his car. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

“Huh—” he turns around to face my parents’ house again, and his eyes scan the façade to look for them. “What—where? I can’t see anyone.” 

I sigh, shaking my head as I cover half of my face with my hands, embarrassed with the thought of my parents’ idly tattle, at the same time ecstatic that they didn’t view my last relationship as something to be wary about.  

“Just raise your hand and wave a little. They’ll see you.” 

With furrow brows, Baekhyun hesitantly raises his left hand and moves it a bit. Not even five seconds later, the window in the formal living space is opened, my mom’s face peeking out. “Hope to meet you soon! Come over for a meal sometime!” 

“Mom!” To say that I’m horrified is an understatement. Everyone knows my mom as a gentle, kind, prim and proper woman, but no one knows, except my dad, how she can be when she gets eager and exhilarated. 

Baekhyun gasps loudly, straightening the coat he’s wearing before bowing politely to my mom and my dad, who is trying to pull Mom away from the window. He waves goodbye before closing the window and drawing the curtains as well. 

“Okay,” I chuckle, shaking my head at my parents’ action, though a fond smile is on my lips. “That was my mom and my dad. I—uhm, you can come over, you know—if you want.” 

“I’d love to,” Baekhyun answers immediately as if he’s been waiting for me to invite him myself. 

Despite hanging out together for months, it’s my first time to be Baekhyun’s passenger in his car. We both laughed about it when he said, “I even thought about slashing your tires so I can drive you home.” 

Since I currently live in my parents' house and I haven’t introduced Baekhyun formally to them, I can’t invite him in an instant. When I explained this to Baekhyun, he didn’t even hesitate to suggest driving us back to his place. 

“No funny business, I swear,” he removes one of his hands from the steering wheel to draw a cross on his chest with his finger. “You’re already in your sleepwear, so I can’t think of a place to go to unless you have somewhere in mind?” 

“That’s fine. As long as I get home in one piece.” I shrug, holding onto the plastic bags on my lap.  

Being a thoughtful Baekhyun, he purchased a bunch of different snacks I’ve been eating since we got close to each other. The chips I keep munching on when work gets too loaded, down to the chocolate bars I keep in my drawer at the office. There’s even a fever patch and a paracetamol in a small paper bag on the side. 

Baekhyun’s place is tidy. I didn’t expect it to be this neat in the first place, as much as how rude it sounds. And at the thought that he didn’t expect to have a visitor, I feel ashamed of the clutter in the corner of my childhood bedroom at my parents’ house. 

I’m also surprised that he even crouches on the floor to help me wear an indoor slipper that is suspiciously in pastel color.  

“I hope I got the size right,” he mumbles under his breath as he observes the footwear.  

“Yeah, it’s perfect.” They’re a couple of centimeters larger than my usual, but it’s much more comfortable this way. “Thank you.” 

He chuckles huskily as he stands up, flicking the tip of my nose with his index finger, a thing he has been doing for quite some time now.  

I follow him to the kitchen, where he places the plastic bags on the kitchen counter. My eyes scan the place further, and I can’t help but be in awe of how he keeps it neat when he’s busy with work. 

“My mom comes over from time to time,” Baekhyun suddenly speaks, snapping me out of my trance as if he’s reading what’s going on in my mind. “But I do like keeping my place clean and organized, else I wouldn’t be unable to function.” 

I scrunch up my nose at him, “Well, thank you for making me feel bad about the pile of laundry in my room.” 

He laughs out loud, eyes crinkling and forming into a crescent shape as he does. “I can help you with that, baby. Just hit me up.” 

I roll my eyes at him with a playful smile on my face. I sat at the barstool, and he followed suit. “But seriously, I didn’t expect you to behave. No offense, but I thought you’re going to slam me on the wall and do the deed as soon as we arrived.” 

Baekhyun gave me a baffled expression before placing both of his hands on his chest as if he were hurt by what he had just heard. “I didn’t know you think so low of me.” 

I cackle, hitting his shoulder with my fist lightly. “I’m just kidding, you idiot.” 

He chortles before placing his hand on the side of my neck. “Baby, I’m not going to slam you on the wall if we’re going to do it. I’m going to lay you on my soft, comfortable bed before kissing the hell out of you.” 

“Oh,” was all I could mutter before chucking awkwardly, scratching my cheek before looking everywhere else but his intent gaze. 

I thought I’m ready for this kind of conversation with him. However, my hands suddenly feel clammy, and my heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest any second. 

Without removing his hand from my neck, he steps closer to where I’m seated. He stands in the space between my legs as his other hand holds my cheek to make me look at him.  

“You’re nervous,” he remarks, his face void of any expression. 

I am unable to find my voice; I can only grunt as a response.  

Baekhyun caresses my cheek with his thumb, his gentle eyes assuring me while his mouth forms a smile. “We’re not going to do anything if you’re not comfortable with it.” 

I nodded my head, though I held onto his wrist when he was about to pull away. “Baekhyun, I—” I close my eyes for a few seconds before opening them. Seeing Baekhyun’s worried look made me exhale shakily. 

“I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone at the office yet,” I wince when I realize how my voice sounded so small and terrified, like I’m going to confess that I stole candy from the candy jar in kindergarten. “And I’m going to ask you something, and I’d like you to be honest, okay?” 

Baekhyun, all of a sudden, drop a kiss on my forehead, which he hadn’t done before. My body feels warm as a blush crept up on my face. “Okay, baby.” 

“I’ve never been with a guy before,” I confess before pressing my lips together in the hope that he’ll take the news well. 

He raises his brows as he tilts his head to the side, “You never have a boyfriend before? Was it you, or was I just dreaming when you told me that you just came out of an unhealthy relationship? Did I drink a lot to not remember?” 

I look at him as he rambles, and when he ends his sentences, he looks at me like he’s expecting me to laugh or confirm his assumption that he’s just dreaming, but I keep my eyes on him without any emotion but silently pleading him to get to my point. 

It takes him almost a minute before he widens his eyes in realization and gawks. “Wait—you—you’re—” 

The corner of my lip turns down when he removes his hold like I’m a burning hot iron. With a sad smile, I nod my head. “I’m sorry for not telling you, and it just didn’t cross my mind that we would actually be taking things too far.” 

Baekhyun stands still, his mouth still agape as he stares at me with wide eyes. Reading the room, I nod my head, patting his arm before jumping off the barstool. “I’ll see myself out.” 

As soon as my feet land on the floor, I’m carried back to the barstool with a loud thump. Surprised, I look at him with my eyes wide open.  

“Where the hell are you going?” he growled, hands gripping my sides as if he’s trying to prevent me from running away. 

“I—” I flinch from the tone of his voice as for months I’ve known Baekhyun, he has never raised nor shown his anger or even annoyance in front of me. 

I think he notices how my orbs shake when I cower in some fear and anxiousness. His brows are furrowed, and he is suddenly relaxed, and his grip goes from rough to gentle. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he breathes out. He looks surprised by his action as well, more than by my reaction. “I’m sorry, I was just surprised. But where do you think you’re going?” 

Letting out a deep, trembling breath, I bite my bottom lip as I lock my eyes with him. His kind and considerate demeanor finally comes back. 

“I just thought that you didn’t want to do anything to me upon hearing my confession,” my voice is small, and my fingers start to fidget the seam of the sweatpants I’m wearing—a habit that I have when I’m nervous and frighted.  

“Baby, I—” Baekhyun sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead on mine. I could feel his breath fanning my face, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes while I waited for his next words. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t know. I just—I genuinely like you. It doesn’t matter to me who you have been with, but I like you. And I want to be with you... if that’s okay.” 

I peek through my lashes to see that he’s still not opening his eyes. I raise my right hand and place it on his cheek. A smile automatically spreads on my lips when he leans on my palm. 

It’s not the first time Baekhyun has said that he likes me or is interested in me. But the first time, he said it without any playful remarks like he has done before. 

“Baekhyun, can I now ask you something? Can you be honest?” I murmur, caressing the skin of his cheek with the pad of my thumb. 

Baekhyun only grunted in response. 

“Why me?” 

This time, he slowly opened his eyes, though not looking up to meet my eyes. He’s silent for quite some time while he thinks about my question, and I’m grateful that he seems to be taking my two-word question seriously. 

“You make me laugh,” Baekhyun finally answers. His voice comes out as a whisper, and he exhales through his nose before finally meeting my eyes. “And I love to laugh.” 

I snort, shaking my head before leaning away from his forehead. I scrunch my nose at him when I see how he stares at me with a fond smile on his face.  

“Did it bother you, though?” 

“Bother me?” I asked, tilting my head in confusion about his query. 

“That I took advances towards you when I have, you know—” Baekhyun innocently shrugs, licking his bottom lip like he’s hesitant to say the next word that’s about to come out of his mouth. “Dick.” 

My laughter comes like a whistling kettle while I hold my stomach from laughing so hard. He looks confused and a bit offended, but he joins in when he realizes that I won’t stop laughing for a while. 

“Sorry—” I cough, trying my best to stop another round of my ugly, hysterical laugh. “Well, to tell you honestly, the first time took me by surprise, but I got used to it. You keep texting me dick jokes that it suddenly felt like a normal thing. Although I’m grateful that you didn’t send a photo of your penis, or I’d really hunt you and stab you in your sleep.” 

It’s his turn to laugh, and my heart finally feels light, as if the awkwardness from my confession is drifting away. I bit my bottom lip while I watched the twinkle in the corner of his eyes as he opened his mouth widely and roared laughter, showcasing his perfectly aligned teeth. 

The room had slowly gone quiet when his eyes met mine, and we stared at each other for a few seconds before he decided to break the silence. 

“Are you going to hit me if I kiss you?” 

I scoff, rolling my eyes playfully. “I might if you don’t.” 

I let out a long, satisfied sigh when he finally placed his lips on mine. It’s what I’ve imagined all along. Soft and warm.  

Warmth. It’s what creeps from my neck to my face when Baekhyun cups my jaw to tilt my head to the side to have better access to my mouth.  I couldn’t stop the moan from the back of my throat when he spread my lips with his to open my mouth, and my tongue met his. 

That made Baekhyun pull away from my mouth, and my eyes are unable to open for a few seconds as the feeling of his lips lingered on mine.  

“You are breathtaking,” Baekhyun’s voice is hoarse, and when I open my eyes, his orbs are dancing around my facial features. He runs his thumb on my bottom lip before leaning forward for a peck on my lips and pulling away in an instant. “So, what do you say?” 

“I’ve never thought I could like someone like you,” I exhale through my nose, and my voice comes out like a whisper.  

“Because I have a dick?” he chuckled huskily, sending me a cheeky smile. 

I burst out laughing, pushing his chest lightly before hooking my fingers on his belt. “You seem to be eager about your dick, Baekhyun. You sure it won’t disappoint?” I playfully taunt him, raising a brow suggestively. 

Being dramatic as he is, he gasps loudly, clearly offended—still. He hastily unbuckles his belt and is about to unbutton his pants. “I can prove it right now—” 

With my eyes wide open, I stop his movement by holding his arms firmly. I chuckle, a bit abashed with my facetious remark about his pride. “How about the bed?” 

Baekhyun has a cheek to blush when he realizes that I gave him the consent to really show me his shaft, maybe even do more. It’s actually the first time I’ve seen him flushed. It had been the other way around. 

I’m a giggling mess when Baekhyun visibly struggles to carry me to his bedroom. I was honest with him when I told him that I like keeping a healthy weight. I don’t do fad diets, and he knew that I eat a lot of not-so-healthy stuff when I’m stressed out. But he still insisted on being “romantic,” as he said. 

When my back finally hit the soft mattress, I let out a cough from laughing too much before meeting Baekhyun’s eyes. Despite grunting all the way to his room, he seemed fine; his gaze was dancing around my facial features. 

“What?” I tried my best to keep a straight face when, in fact, our current position on his bed made me realize how intimate we are, and also close, probably—if things go well, on doing something besides kissing each other. 

I almost melted on the spot when Baekhyun displays a gentle smile on his face while his fingers tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “A man is just appreciating his woman’s beauty.” 

My eyes roll playfully, though I can feel how my stomach flutter from his smooth words. “Alright, mister. Are we going to be just sappy all night or...?” 

Baekhyun chuckles huskily, leaning his body weight on top of me and diving his head down to kiss my lips. Then, it traveled to my chin and to my jaw. 

My mouth falls open when his mouth reaches my neck. It started with his soft, puckered lips on my skin until he started with an open-mouthed kiss on the base of my neck.  

We are moving quite fast, but I’m too occupied by the way his tongue is brushing on my skin, his teeth biting the soft flesh before sucking on the spot. 

“Shit—Baekhyun,” I sigh from the stimulation, closing my eyes when I feel the tightness in his pants as he moves to place his lips on mine again.  

A silent whimper escapes my mouth when Baekhyun suddenly pulls away. I snap my eyes open, furrowing my brows at him. But before I could even open my mouth to ask him why he stopped, he beat me to it.  

“Are you okay—is this okay? Am I making you uncomfortable?” 

“I’m okay. C’mere.” I answer in an instant, grabbing his neck to kiss him again, but he pulls away. 

“Do you want me to keep the lights on, or do you prefer it off?” 

“I’d prefer it if you keep your mouth on mine,” I deadpan. The built-up frustration in me starts to act up. 

I expect Baekhyun to respond sassily or to laugh as he normally does, but he looks a bit somber, and it somehow makes me feel guilty. 

“I just don’t want to ruin this, baby,” Baekhyun explains, heaving a sigh. “Trust me when I say that I want this more than you do, but I’m thinking that this might be your first time—” 

“With a guy, yeah...” I cut him off, fiddling with the button of his dress shirt. “I’m sorry—I didn’t think about that.” 

“Hey,” Baekhyun nudged my nose with his to call for my attention, and it did. I see his bright eyes, and he immediately smiles. “Why are you apologizing? I'm honored that you want me, but let me take care of you, yeah?” 

I nod my head with a smile, “Okay.” 

Dropping another kiss on my mouth, he starts lifting the oversized sweater I’m wearing, exposing more skin for him to touch.  

“Oh, shit,” Baekhyun curses under his breath when the hem of my sweater reaches above my chest, exposing my bare mounds to him. “No bra?” 

I giggle, placing my palms over my nipples when I see how he ogles on them. “I was sleeping when you called, remember? Who wears a bra when they sleep?” 

He gently grabs my wrists, pulling them to my sides before removing my top completely. My back arches when he puts one nipple in his warm cavern, his teeth grazing the surface before completely sucking my areole further into his mouth. 

My hand flies to his head, bunching his hair softly when his tongue starts swirling around. He makes sure to treat my other boob the same, giving me the same pleasure as the previous one.  

I let a moan when he starts trailing kisses down to my navel, squirming a little bit when he purposely licks on the side of my stomach when he notices that I’m quite ticklish. 

He unties my sweatpants, pulling them down from my thighs to my legs until they reach the floor. I’m left in my plain cotton underwear, and I can’t stop covering my face with my hands when he holds my knees before pulling them apart. 

I should’ve at least worn a much decent piece if I just knew that I’d be bare in front of Baekhyun. 

But that thought flies outside the window when I feel his index finger lightly rub against my clothed private part. When I open my eyes, I’m surprised to see that Baekhyun is already looking at me as if waiting for a negative reaction or refusal. 

“Oh, God—” I prop on my elbow to get a better view of him rubbing me down there, my jaw slack for a silent moan. “Keep going, please.” 

Taking it as a go signal, he proceeds to remove my underwear, leaving me completely bare before him.  

I throw my head back down to the mattress when Baekhyun positions himself down on the bed, spreading my thigh wider, his breath fans on my womanhood.  

The pad of his thumb rubs my folds. His movements are gentle and slow, but they don’t fail to make me roll my eyes from the sensation, letting out a grunt.  

I squeak when the tip of his nose makes contact with my clit, his finger parting my folds to expose the bundle of nerves. He then starts giving my bud a peck repeatedly. The action makes my womanhood produce its own lubricant, and I only realize that Baekhyun did that to stimulate me rather than forcing me to be wet in an instant. 

Damn. He’s good. 

“Ha...” I moan when his tongue finally runs through my folds. I hold onto his head when he grunts in response, and the vibration makes the tip of my toes curl. “Fuck—yes, please.” 

I heard Baekhyun snicker at my womanhood upon hearing me curse—which I rarely do, sucking on my clit before flicking his tongue on it. My hands, absent-mindedly, push the back of his head further between my legs, feeling the knot in my stomach quickly forming. 

I can’t stop the noise coming out from my mouth when he shakes his head, stimulating my womanhood intensely. His middle finger sneaks inside my hole before pulling away to peer at my face.  

“Please—don’t stop,” I beg, biting my bottom lip when he added another finger, thrusting them faster. “I’m almost there.” 

Baekhyun grunts, his mouth coming to my clit again to push me to the edge. I almost lost it just as he started sucking on the bud, making an erotic slurping sound across the room. 

My thigh clamps his head as I try to pull away when my climax hits, but he’s much stronger, making sure he gets all the substance from my entrance.  

I prop on my elbow even though I’m still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm he gave me. I watch him with hooded eyes as he continuously digs his tongue on my entrance, moaning like he’s satisfied with my cum. 

When my muscles start to twitch from overstimulation, I push his face away with my hand before covering my womanhood as he attempts to have a taste again. 

“Okay, you’ve had enough,” I laughed light-heartedly, grabbing his face for a kiss.  

Baekhyun moans when I part his lips with my tongue, tasting myself on him. “I’ll never have enough of you, baby. I don’t think I can ever get enough.” 

I wrap my arms around his neck, climbing onto his lap for us to switch positions on the bed. I trail kisses from his lips to his jaw, and when I reach his neck, my fingers start to unbutton his dress shirt, pushing the fabric away from his body to expose his toned torso. 

However, before I could even completely remove his pants, he stopped me from doing so, and I looked at him with a baffled expression.  

“Are you alright with—” 

“Sucking a dick?” I snort, tugging his pants again when he lifts his hips for the garment to slide down his bottom. “I’ve never tried it before; thus, your guidance will be very much appreciated.” 

Baekhyun grins upon hearing my statement, although he closes his eyes in an instant when I circle my fingers on his member without any warning. He’s already hard, and I’m unable to hide my amusement at how it keeps twitching when I start moving my hand.  

“Baby...” Baekhyun growls, snapping his eyes open to observe what I’m doing. “I had a long day; I don’t think I’ll last long tonight. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

I snicker, pumping his length continuously. “I thought I heard you say that it won’t disappoint.” 

“It won’t,” he glares, though the furrow on his brows quickly vanishes when I grip him tighter. “But someone decided that it was a great idea to ghost me this afternoon.” 

I finally stopped my ministration, giving him a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” 

“I had to endure Jessi’s nagging when I asked her about you and that you were not answering my calls. She thought that I did something wrong to you.” 

I jut out my bottom lip on him to act adorable, but it’s obviously a failure when he visibly grimaces playfully. I hit his chest before throwing myself on top of him, giving his mouth a smooch. “I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about us, and it’s eating me alive. You know what happened with my ex, and as much as possible, I don’t want it to happen again.” 

“I will do my best not to hurt you, baby,” he kisses the tip of my nose, which I find to be too endearing. “I may play around a lot, but I take my relationship very seriously. My friends and family know that.” 

“And you’re thirty,” I press my palms on each side of his cheek, giggling when his lips turn into a pout. “You need to settle down, old man.” 

Baekhyun gasps, holding my wrist and sitting up on the bed. “Are you proposing to me right now?” 

I know he meant it as a joke, but my mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He probably noticed how flustered I became, and he laughed it off, kissing my lips to calm me down. “I’ll do the proposing, baby. Don’t worry.” 

His words didn’t help, and my whole body felt like it was on fire. Tonight is officially our first night together, and the discussion about marriage has already been brought up. It’s obvious that we are moving too fast, but somehow, it doesn’t bother me... at all. 

We are just looking at each other for a few moments, in each other’s embrace. Hence, I finally decided to break the silence. 

“Can I suck your dick now?” 

Baekhyun laughs out loud, caressing my bare back with his palm. “Alright, baby. Just for a bit?” 

I nod my head with a wide smile on my face, tucking my hair behind my ear. He sees that I’m struggling with my hair, and thankfully, he decided to hold it for me.  

I lower my head until my lips touch his tip. My eyes flickered to see Baekhyun’s reaction for a bit when I heard him hiss. His face is scrunched up, and he’s biting his bottom lip while watching me go down on him. 

Feeling encouraged by his response, I spread my lips wider to take him in my warm mouth. My heart feels like it’s being tickled by soft feathers when he moans loudly, “Oh—shit, baby.” 

His grip on my hair becomes tighter when I started bobbing my head around his length, not forgetting to circle my tongue on his tip every time I need to take a breath. 

“W-wait, I’m close, baby,” he pulls me up from my position and guides me to lie down on the mattress while he positions himself between my legs. 

When he reaches his nightstand for protection, I immediately stop him from opening the packet. “Is it alright if we do it without the rubber?” 

It’s his time to be surprised by my request. He raises his brows in shock, although he seems to be tempted. “Are you sure?” 

I quickly nod my head, “Yes, I want to feel you.” 

Baekhyun throws the packet of condoms on the floor, placing his palm on the mattress beside my head for support as he lines his length on my hole, seemingly pleased with my justification. “Okay. I’ll just pull out—” 

“Can you come in me?” I’m so embarrassed to ask him this question, but I’ve been meaning to, as I really want to feel it. In case he feels uncomfortable with the idea, I instantly added, “I’ll get pills tomorrow to avoid any unplanned occurrence, I promise.” 

“Relax, baby,” Baekhyun gives me a reassuring smile, slowly pushing his length into me. My jaw goes slack, and my eyes close from the stretch. It’s not that painful, as I’ve used stuff for penetration before. 

“I don’t mind the idea of you being swollen here.” He places his hand on my belly, rubbing the skin with his thumb. “In fact, I’d love it. But you have the final say, baby. It’s your body.” 

My bottom lip is caught between my teeth as I whimper when he sheathes his member deep in me. I throw my head back on the mattress, and he takes it as an opportunity to lick and bite my exposed neck. 

When I tap his shoulder to let him know I’m ready, he straightens his back, holding on to my hips as he pulls out and pushes in my womanhood.  

It seems impossible, but it feels like my walls can perceive the veins of his cock. It twitches from time to time, hitting a spot in me that would make me roll my eyes to the back of my head.  

I’ve used toys before; my ex loved to use them, but this is different. His length is snug on my walls and rubs my insides perfectly. Not to mention the way his hips would snap on my pelvis, stimulating my outer lips as well. 

My chest starts to heave as I pant when Baekhyun adds his finger to the scene, rubbing my clit while his thrusts go faster. 

“Oh, gosh!” I squeak, frantically gripping the sheets, when I feel the tight knot in my stomach close to bursting. “I’m close—please, don’t stop.” 

I didn’t expect that he could go faster than he already had, but boy, he truly didn’t disappoint when he went faster, and his thrust became firmer. 

“I’m almost there, baby,” he grunts, removing his hand away from my clit so he can support his weight when he leans down to place his lips on mine.  

I moan in his mouth, holding on to his back, when I feel something warm shoot inside of me. The warmth almost feels like a tickle and surprisingly satisfying. I never thought those explicit videos I watched when I was a teenager were true. 

My arms hugged his figure closer to my body when he finally gave up and lay on top of me. His face is buried in my neck while he catches his breath. It takes him a good minute to remove his weight on me, not even giving me a chance to comprehend what he’s about to do. 

He stuffs two of his fingers in my hole, and his lips go to my clit to suck the bud. I let out a high-pitched scream as I grabbed a fistful of his hair, totally overwhelmed by his quick movement. 

“I’m coming—I’m coming!” 

My legs convulse from the intensity of my second climax of the night, and I almost cried when Baekhyun wouldn’t stop slurping the juices from my hole. I didn’t expect it to happen, and I guess he didn’t see it coming as well, but a thin liquid gushed out from my vagina from overstimulation. 

I was about to apologize to him but was surprised when he looked so pleased, sticking his tongue out before licking a stripe on my folds one last time before climbing up to devour my mouth. 

“That’s so hot,” he remarks, pertaining to what happened. “I’d pay with my soul to make it happen again.” 

I chuckle at his statement, though tiredly, “I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you.” 

Baekhyun laughs, biting my bottom lip and pulling it with his teeth. “And I hope I didn’t disappoint you either.” 

A smile formed on my lips before giving his lips a chaste kiss that I could say that I poured my heart into. “You’re perfect.” 

When I decided to activate my social media again, I instantly received many messages from my high school friends and people from university.  

My high school friends were so ecstatic when they saw that I uploaded a story on my account after being unreachable for months.  

It was a silhouette of Baekhyun and the sun setting in the background.  

They were supportive and happy that I was seeing someone again after the bad break-up with my ex. 

While the people I know from university didn’t even say any greetings and went straight to, “Who is this?” or, “A guy???” some even sent, “You’re straight now?” 

I chose to ignore the toxicity from those people and focus on the good side. I left them on seen and went on with my life where everything seems to be falling into place. 

And I think that irked them as someone sent me a screenshot of their conversation in a group chat that my ex is also a part of—and which I was kicked out of when we broke up. They were talking about the story I uploaded and how I am probably rubbing it on their faces that I’m dating someone again, notably a man. 

I don’t mind their tattles, but what my ex said bothers me a lot. She said, “He’s just a tit for tat from our break-up. It’s only going to be joyful at first. They’ll break up in a few months, believe me.” 

I remember my face turning so red when I read her message. However, I did my best to keep my cool and replied to the person who sent the screenshot with a simple, “I’d rather not include myself in their narrative. But I appreciate the thought of you reaching out.” 

Because she couldn’t be more wrong.  

A week after we officially got together, Baekhyun was the one who asked if he could meet my parents. I told my mom about it, and she enthusiastically invited him for dinner.  

To say that my parents love him at the first meeting is such an understatement. Baekhyun is a charmer. Everyone could be swooned by his tactics, and my parents weren’t an exemption. 

A week after that, he was already playing golf with my dad, and he would play the piano with my mom. 

In the third month, Baekhyun invited me to attend the wedding of his cousin. His parents would be there, and he wanted me to meet them. It was such a nerve-wracking moment since I never got a chance to be close to my ex’s parents or any of her family members. 

But boy, was I wrong. 

His mother linked her arm with mine almost the whole time at the reception. She asked different questions that weren’t personal and made me promise at least five times to visit them at their home for me to try her cooking. 

His dad was the calm and serene one but would say the word: daughter-in-law when someone would ask who I was. 

I also met his older brother and his family. They were all nice and friendly. Baekhyun’s nephews even started calling me aunt. 

“You’re the second girl Baekhyun introduced to us,” his brother told me, tipping his head in Baekhyun’s direction while the latter was engaged in a conversation with their relatives. “The first one was his senior in high school. She was his first girlfriend. She shouldn’t be included, to be honest, because we’ve known her before they started going out. So, technically, you’re the first.” 

I was not uncomfortable with the mention of my current lover’s past relationship, and I appreciated the honesty instead. “He mentioned that he dated quite a few before me, though.” 

His brother snorted, shaking his head. “He did. Mom would always ask him to bring them over. But he kept saying that he wouldn’t bring someone he won’t marry.” 

Baekhyun was confused and quite worried on the drive home because my face was crimson red the whole night. He kept checking my forehead and neck to see if I had a fever or if I had eaten something bad at the wedding reception. 

I wasn’t planning on telling him the reason for my sudden change of behavior and why I was blushing like crazy, but when we arrived at his place and were about to go to bed, he insisted on going to the hospital so I could get checked. 

Hence, I decided to tell him what his older brother told me. I hid my face in the space on his neck, abashed, and I was pretty sure that my blushing went over and beyond. 

I was expecting him to laugh, to make fun of the silly thing his brother informed me. But a kiss on my forehead and a back rub were the things I received from him. 

“Of course, I do see myself marrying you,” his voice was like velvet as he spoke, his hand never stopping caressing my back. “I can’t see myself with anyone else besides you.” 

I was about to cry, but he might’ve realized that what he said was mushy and decided to be his playful self again. “Because who else can tolerate your dad's jokes except me?” 

My fist came in contact with his chest, although a bubble of laughter escaped my lips. I also couldn’t see myself with anyone else but him. 

That was the first time we said the three words to each other, as we both came from our love-making relationship. 

In the sixth month, I told my parents that I saw an apartment near the office that fit my budget and was planning to get a place for myself as I felt bad about living in their house at my age. 

They told me that they would love it if I stayed with them since they did get lonely when I was still with my ex. But at the same time, they assured me that they would respect my decision, whatever it would be. 

I promised that I would visit them if I ever moved out and told them that they could do the same.  

Before I could contact the realtor, I decided to tell Baekhyun about my plans as well. He was surprised, to tell the least, and I honestly didn’t expect him to react the way he did. 

“Why would you look at a different place?” Although he wasn’t yelling, it was obvious that his tone of voice was close to being upset.  

“I’m just planning, babe,” I told him, squeezing his arm to ease his mood, but he just brushed me off, which was shocking. I cleared my throat before clarifying what I said. “That’s why I’m telling you first before I inquire with the realtor if I could check the place and apply for a lease and—” 

“And I asked you why.” 

It was also the first time I’ve seen him in this mood, and it made me want to cry on the spot. Not because I got scared of him but because he was upset because of what I told him—because of me. 

“I feel bad living with my parents, Baekhyun,” I confessed, looking at my lap as I fiddled with the seam of my pants. “I’m already twenty-eight, and I shouldn’t be a burden to my parents. Also, the place I’m eyeing is only ten minutes away from the office, and it would somehow make my life easier.” 

Baekhyun scoffs, turning his head to me. “And the distance of my place is also ten minutes away from the office. That didn’t cross your mind?” 

I opened my mouth but closed it right away when I couldn’t find the courage to tell him that I did. However, I didn’t have the guts to tell him—and I was embarrassed as hell to even think about it, so I opt to look for a place on my own. 

“Do you even love me?!”  

I gasped loudly, my eyes wide as saucers as I stared at him like he had grown another head on his neck. “What the hell, Baekhyun? I told you about it because I care about your opinion. Why are you getting angry at me like I did something horrendous?” 

I believed that made him slap some reality on him. He closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, “I—I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to shout. I just—I don’t want you living by yourself, it’s not safe. And I have my own place. You can move in with me—and honestly, I’d love that if you do.” 

I rolled my eyes at him, shaking my head, and it made him panic, thinking that I was declining his proposal. “I’ll think about it, you idiot.” 

Baekhyun exaggeratedly pouted, huffing as he tried to act cute, which never failed to make me cringe every time he did, by the way. “You didn’t even think twice about renting another place. What’s so wrong with living with your awesomely handsome boyfriend, huh? You get to see my face first thing in the morning, get to shower with me because, you know—conserve water and all that, and seriously, you don’t have to pay rent.” 

I was about to cut him off when he mentioned that I wouldn’t have to pay rent if I moved in with him, but he placed his index finger on my mouth, shushing me like a child. 

“I won’t accept any kind of money for rent, baby. A blowjob, maybe?” 

My palm hurt from slapping his arm repeatedly, but he just kept laughing as he dodged every hit. “You know I do that for free.” 

Baekhyun bit his bottom lip, raising a brow suggestively. “Shit, now I’m hard.” 

I didn’t know how our argument would always make us tangled in bed, but it just happened. Always. 

And you can blame the euphoria or whatever, but it made me agree to move to his place. He asked when I literally just came, and I wasn’t even done screaming his name, and my muscles were still convulsing from the intensity of my orgasm. 

He played dirty, but I didn’t regret my decision a single bit. 

In the eleventh month, something unexpected happened. 

Actually, two things happened. 

I received an invitation from a university acquaintance to her wedding. I didn’t want to go because this person was part of the group chat where they gossiped about my life. But Baekhyun told me to go and be the bigger person. 

I knew he told me to go not to become the bigger person, but because he read her text and specifically said, “Bring your boyfriend with you.” 

He knew about the screenshot of what my ex had told other people when I uploaded a photo of him. I wasn’t planning on telling him because I found it completely ridiculous, but I was drunk, and my mouth ran before my brain did. 

“You just want to show how hot you are,” I rolled my eyes, chucking a pillow on his face. 

“Oh, so you admit that I’m hot?” he trapped my figure on the bed with his arms, grinding his bulge on my private part. 

“Eh, you’re okay...” I shrugged my shoulders, dismissing his growing ego. 

“That’s not what you told me last night when I was eating you out—” 

“Alright, alright! I’ll go, okay? But you need to come with me. I don’t think I’ll survive more than an hour there.” I covered his mouth with my hand, and he had the audacity to smile and kiss my palm.  

He removed my hand from his mouth, dropping a kiss to my mouth and then to my neck while his fingers yanked my underwear, throwing it to the floor. “Of course, I’ll come with you. But for now, I’ll come to you. How’s that sound?” 

I hugged his neck, and a throaty moan escaped my lips when his length plunged into my womanhood, caressing my walls satisfyingly. “Oh, I’d love that.” 

When the day came, I felt under the weather, and Baekhyun had an impromptu meeting. I was about to text my friend, but before I could, she already left a message thirty minutes ago.  

“I’m expecting you to be there! I haven’t seen you in a long time. Just because Yunjin will be there, you’ll bail out on my wedding day!” 

I can’t remember if we were that close back in university for me to be an important present on her big day, but as I stared at her message, I realized that they just wanted me to be the main dish. 

Baekhyun even told me to stay at home and that he’d come home right after his meeting, but I had already responded to that person, confirming my attendance. 

He called me stubborn when I explained that I wouldn’t back down on their schemes, although he still drove me to the reception.  

I kissed his lips, thanking him for driving me before getting out of the car.  

“I’ll come right after the meeting. Call me if anything happens. And when I said anything—anything, alright?” 

I kissed him one more time, totally swooned by his caring personality. “Okay. I love you. Drive safe, yeah?” 

“I love you too, baby. I’ll see you later.” 

As expected, she invited me just to meet Baekhyun. I was almost fuming in annoyance when they kept laughing at how Baekhyun was not there. Even my ex was laughing with her punchline, “I’m starting to think that the guy on your story was just a random photo you saw on Google.” 

I didn’t want them to think that I was getting affected by their jokes that I knew were half-meant. So, I decided to laugh with them, and I wasn’t ashamed to show them that it was by force.  

Baekhyun texted me to say that he was running late, and if he didn’t make it to the reception, he’d still come and pick me up. I told him that it was fine and assured him that no one was harassing me when he sent: IS SOMEONE BOTHERING YOU THERE???, in all caps. 

The second thing happened when my ex sat beside me and handed me a glass of wine. The smell of the alcohol, although quite subtle, when it reached my nostrils, I wasn’t able to hold back my gag. I peeked at my ex, and gladly, she didn’t see it. 

But one person did. The one who sent me the screenshot of their group chat messages. 

She eyed me with concern when I gagged once again before deciding to place the wine on the table where I wouldn’t smell it. 

Remembering that I wasn’t feeling well this morning, I was about to call Baekhyun, but at the same time, I didn’t want to bother him for a while since he mentioned that it was an important meeting with a stakeholder. I knew he said to call him if anything happened, but I thought that I could still handle it. 

Since it was nearing the end of the reception, more alcohol came into the hall, and I started getting dizzy. I ran to the toilet and tried to stick my finger on my mouth to induce vomit since I’d been gagging and thought that it was a good idea to just let it all out. 

“No—wait, don’t do that.” 

It was Jisoo who sent me the screenshot. She held my hand away from my mouth, brushing away the hair that got stuck on my face as I started breaking into a cold sweat.  

She closed the cubicle door and sat on the cold tiles in front of me. “I saw how you became sensitive to the smell of alcohol. How many weeks are you in?” 

I tilted my head to the side, not having an idea of what she was asking. “Sorry?” 

“Oh,” she smiled sheepishly, “aren’t you pregnant? I’m sorry if you find it offensive. I—” 

I chuckled nervously, not expecting to hear that from her or from anyone. “I probably ate a lot earlier, huh? That it bloats my belly.” 

I haven’t tracked my period due to work, and I got busy when Baekhyun and I decided to re-décor the apartment. But we are careful. I have been taking after pills since we got accumulated on not using protection nor pulling out.  

“Oh, shit...” 

My eyes widened in realization as I remembered the night that Baekhyun came home when I was already asleep. He was tipsy as he met with his friends for a drink, and when he saw me sleeping just with a loose t-shirt and underwear, he initiated intercourse. 

I was tired, so I let him be. I quickly went back to sleep when he finished, and when morning came, I rushed to get ready for work since neither of our alarms went off for some reason, and the afterpill on the medicine cabinet was left untouched. 

Jisoo gasped upon seeing my reaction, “You—you didn’t know?” 

I shook my head slowly, still in faze by the fact that I could be, and a large possibility, pregnant. “I—we were busy. I was feeling normal until today...” 

“I—” Jisoo rummaged through her purse, groaning when she didn’t find what she was looking for. “I usually carry a test with me, but I don’t have it right now. I—uhm, I can ask the hotel clinic if you want to. Or would you want to do it by yourself at home?” 

“I—uh,” I heaved a deep sigh, not knowing what to do but to dial Baekhyun’s number with my shaky fingers. When he didn’t answer, I left him a message, hoping that he’d read it soon. 

Come pick me up, please. Sent | 7:45 PM 

Jisoo stayed by my side as we went back to the gathering. She even got a different chair for me to sit on rather than the seat next to Yunjin. I gave her a grateful smile, and she just squeezed my hand to tell me it was fine. 

I was bouncing my legs for at least ten minutes straight when I decided to tell Jisoo that I wanted to test it now, and she nodded her head, telling me to wait for her while she went to the hotel clinic to see if they had a test kit. 

When she came back, she nonchalantly asked me to go with her to the bathroom as she needed to retouch her make-up. The other girls just waved us off, not really caring about us.  

On the way to the bathroom, I finally received my boyfriend’s reply, and I couldn’t help but sigh in relief. 

You alright? Received | 8:18 PM 

I hastily typed a simple Yes, and his response calmed my nerves a bit. 

On my way. Give me 15 mins max, baby. Love you. Received | 8:19 PM 

I read the instructions carefully and made sure that what I’d done was correct when the result finally showed on the kit. I bang my head on the cubicle’s wall, alerting Jisoo on the other side.  

“Is everything okay?” 

“One line means negative, right?” I asked dumbly, not knowing how to react to this situation.  

“Yes,” Jisoo confirmed, knocking on the door to ask me to open it, and I did. “Is it negative?” 

I handed her the kit, my face blank of any expression.  

She gasped loudly when she saw the two lines, pushing me back inside the cubicle and locking the door. “Congratulations!” 

She jumped on her feet as she hugged my almost limp figure. When she noticed that I wasn’t excited about the news like she was, she looked at me with concern on her face. “Are you not planning on this?” 

I shook my head, biting my bottom lip as I got worried about Baekhyun’s reaction to the news. We both discussed marriage but haven’t gotten further about a child coming into play. 

What if he didn’t want a child like my ex? Will he change? Will he leave me as well? 

Yunjin being unfaithful and breaking up with me was painful, and it took months for me to feel alive again. 

But the thought of Baekhyun walking out of my life was unthinkable.  

I just couldn’t. 

I was beyond grateful to Jisoo when she held my arm as I decided to leave the venue and wait for Baekhyun to pick me up. However, as soon as we got to the table to bid them goodbye, I saw everyone gushing about Baekhyun. 

“I saw you on LinkedIn, and you’re an Executive Director of the company you built, right? What are you doing here? Are you related to the bride or the groom?” one of them asked, resting a hand on my boyfriend’s thigh, and it didn’t fail to make me raise an eyebrow in annoyance. 

“Right! I knew he looked familiar the moment he walked in. I’ve heard that it’s a great place to work. You have an impressive accomplishment at such an age, I must say.” Yunjin even joined the conversation, seemingly immersed in seeing Baekhyun. 

Jessi once told me how Baekhyun has achieved incredible credibility in terms of corporate business, and a lot of multinational corporations have asked him to join their team, but he chose to stay with Junmyeon, his good friend, since grade school. 

Fortunately, Baekhyun brushed her hand away, eyes scanning the place to look for me. “It’s the company of my close friend, and I’m just helping him. And I’m looking for my—” 

“You’re such a humble guy. Can I have your number—” 

“Oh—there you are!” Baekhyun sighed in relief and smiled sheepishly when he saw how unhappy I looked upon seeing the interaction. He walked in my direction and kissed my lips in front of everyone. 

“My conscience is clear, baby,” he whispered to my ear before facing them, whose eyes were wide and their jaw almost reaching the floor. “I’m here to pick up my girlfriend. And we’ll get going now.” 

I forced myself to smile, waving them goodbye, and couldn’t stop the amused chuckle I felt when I saw their incredulous look, especially when Baekhyun intertwined our fingers in front of their faces. 

“Thank you,” I mouthed to Jisoo when Baekhyun tugged my hand as a signal for us to leave the place. I felt sorry because he must’ve been uncomfortable from their questioning earlier. 

Jisoo smiled widely, raising a fist in the air, whispering, “Fighting! And call me.” 

And that made me remember the reality that I have a child in me, and I must tell Baekhyun about it. 

When we reached home, we washed up together and went to bed. I knew it was a long meeting, and he must be so tired, but I couldn’t stop the negative thoughts in my head. And I won’t be able to sleep in this condition. 

He was already breathing heavily, a sign that he fell asleep, and I confirmed it when I raised my head from his chest and peeked over to see his face.  

I huffed, feeling pathetically frustrated with myself. I could’ve told him on the drive back home, but I waited, and now he was asleep.  

I started whining his name to try to wake him up, but he didn’t even budge. I tried kissing his neck since he was a bit sensitive in there, but all I received was a tired groan.  

“Baby... I’m tired. Tomorrow, okay?” 

I didn’t know if it was because of the pregnancy or if it was just all in my head, but when he turned around so his back would face me instead, I exhaled shakily, and tears started forming on the brim of my eyes.  

I pursed my lips so he wouldn’t hear my soft hiccups. It was a petty thing to do, but I grabbed my pillow and went to the living room, settling myself on the couch with a single pillow and a throw blanket.  

I was sniffling when I closed my eyes, and a salty stream of tears flowed to the side of my face, praying that everything would be okay and that sleep would come so I could rest my mind for a bit. 

My eyes snapped open when I felt the space beside me sink and an arm wrapped around my middle. It was still dark outside the window, so I guessed that it was still dawn. 

I was still somewhat hurt when he turned his back on me, so I decided to do the same, having him taste his own medicine.  

“Baby... don’t do this...” he sounded so fed up, and being at the peak of my emotion, I hid my face even more when I felt a prickle in my nose, and tears started welling up again. 

I was normally reserved and wouldn’t make a big deal on things. I’d like to stay calm and think before I open my mouth on a serious matter. So, this was new to him. 

“You know I’ve never said no to sex before, but please, baby, let me sleep for at least three hours, and I’ll do anything you want.” 

That made me sit up from my curled-up position, and he was beyond shocked to see me crying. “Sex?! You thought I was asking for sex? What the fuck, Baekhyun!” 

“No—wait, baby. Don’t cry—oh, my God.” he tried to initiate a hug, but I slapped his hands away, glaring at him. “Why are you so mad at me—where are you going?!” 

I was sobbing violently, trying to push his chest away, when he literally tackled me on the couch when I attempted to walk away. He waited for me to calm down, not saying anything, but would peck the tip of my nose when I would hiccup. 

When my sobs finally ceased, he tilted my chin so he could look directly into my eyes. “Are you going to tell me now why you’re so mad at me?” 

I just sniffed, not answering his question. 

“How am I going to fix it if you won’t tell me?” he sighed, closing his eyes in probable annoyance. 

“Are you getting tired of me?” I croaked, biting my lip when it trembled.  

He rubbed his face tiredly before huffing. “What—” 

“Just say it if you’re fed up with me. I won’t make things complicated, and I will leave you alone.” 

“Baby—do you hear yourself? What the hell is wrong with you?” Baekhyun hated the instances in which he would raise his voice at me, but this time, it seemed like I needed it from his point of view. “Why are you breaking up with me? Did something happen—did I do something wrong? Tell me so I can fix it—at least give me a chance to fix it!” 

“I—” I lowered my head as another set of tears formed. 

I heard Baekhyun sniff, and his voice started to crack. “Baby... please... tell me what’s wrong.” 

I raised my head to look at him, and guilt crashed through me when I saw his eyes turn red and glossy. “Promise me you won’t get angry... please.” 

“You know I would never be angry with you.” 

I gulped audibly before opening my mouth to finally tell him what I should’ve done earlier. “The girl you saw earlier, the one whom I was in the bathroom, she thought I was pregnant because I became sensitive to the smell of wine.” 

He nodded his head, urging me to continue. 

“She asked me to do a test. And, uh... it came positive.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes widened in surprise, and his mouth fell open. “You—we—we’re pregnant?” 

“Yes,” I confirmed his question, anticipating his next action. Is he going to be mad about the unplanned pregnancy? We haven’t even been together for a year. Will a baby be a hindrance to our—his freedom? 

Baekhyun exhaled heavily like he was holding his breath for a long time, “Baby—that’s—you should’ve told me. Is that the reason why you’re frustrated at me?” 

I was breathing heavily, thousands of thoughts running through my head, when he didn’t directly confirm if he was fine with it or if he wanted to be out of the picture. “You’re okay with it? You’re not mad?” 

Baekhyun looked at me like I’d said something I shouldn’t have. “What—why would I be mad about it? We’re having a baby, my love. This is good news! Where the hell you got the idea of me not wanting to have a child with you?” 

I’d like to blame it on the pregnancy this time when I started sobbing, throwing myself to Baekhyun as I hugged his neck tightly. He must’ve sensed my sincere emotion, that I was frightened that he could’ve thought otherwise about the situation. 

Baekhyun hugged my figure, caressing my back and the back of my head to calm me down. “Please don’t ever doubt my love for you. I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you. Please don’t forget that, although I will never get tired of reminding you every day.” 

I cried even more with his confession, wailing: I love you, as I hid my face in his neck, climbing on his lap as I made myself comfortable in his hold. 

Baekhyun showered my face with kisses when I pulled away, despite my cheeks being soaked with tears and my nose probably snotty. He looked at me like I was his greatest treasure. “My baby is such a crybaby.” 

I sniffed, though a smile finally formed in my mouth. “I guess I’m not your baby anymore, huh.” 

Baekhyun scrunched up his nose, nodding his head. “Yeah... I mean, I’d go down on one knee right now to make you my wife instead, but I haven’t bought a ring yet. Will a Ring Pop do for now?” 

I placed a chaste kiss on his lips before laughing. “As long as it’d be strawberry flavor, I’ll say yes.” 

Baekhyun laughed so loud that I had to cover his mouth with my palm as it was still dark outside, and our neighbors might report us if we didn’t tone down our voices. 

“But seriously, babe,” he hummed as he laid me down on the bed and attacked my neck with his lips. “Why did you turn your back on me earlier? I was so hurt when you did that.” 

Baekhyun looked so done with me, but instead of getting bothered by it, I found it amusing how he went on for almost an hour, explaining that he didn’t do it on purpose and he was just half asleep and wouldn’t do it if he was fully awake. 

In the twelfth month, Baekhyun finally went down on one knee. Asking me to marry him with a proper ring adorned in his fingers. Our families and our closest friends were there.  

I couldn’t help but tear up to see them celebrating for us. 

On the fifteenth month, I walked down the aisle to vow to take Baekhyun as my husband. The wedding was rushed, and we thought it wasn't plausible. But a good friend of mine, Jisoo, who is a wedding organizer, made it happen. What are the odds? 

By then, I stopped counting the months and just lived in the moment with him.  

With Baekhyun. 

Baekhyun is different. He proves to me every single day that I’m finally with someone I can feel safe with. Someone who will celebrate my success—our success together. Someone I can lean on and someone who needs me as much. Someone who trusts me as I trust him. Someone who loves me as much as I love him. 

Someone who respects me as much as I respect him. 

I couldn’t be more thankful that I didn’t take my friends’ advice about vengeance. 

Because you know what’s better than revenge? 

Moving on, then finding contentment and happiness. 

It could be at work, financially, family, or in person. Let time heal you, and once you feel like you can take a bath and eat breakfast, keep moving forward and focus on what and who makes you happy. 

You’re going to be okay. I promise. 

It took me a long time, but I finally found the love I’ve always wanted. 

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢. — 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Tags: @itsnottilly

Summary : after the troubling interrogation, Y/N sets back off, possibly created contact with an ex-friend, a bully, a douche bag. Learning the conflict and grudges, tension is brought to them.

Navigation — Mixtape

“Y/N, Y/N. Y/N!” A shout flickered the girl back to the futile, cold office, accompanied by the principal, chief, and the officer, who seemed slightly worried about the girl who seemed to have dozed off into the abundance of memories and thoughts overflowing her own emotions, a sense of guilt welling up on her, “Are you listening?”

Her eyes blinked, watching the concerned adults, who were looking back at her. She shakes her head, her brittle hair moving from side to side, trying her best to hold back tears, not wanting to know of the possibilities of Will not being safe. Remembering a bit of the event that carried on last night, she spoke forward, “I-I only remember leaving early, since I had to be home by six. Will was with the party, so I don’t know much from there.”

Callahan cleared his throat, taking the seat next to her, “Do you know what street he usually takes to go home?”

”Mirkwood,” Y/N fixes her jacket, watching her dad rolls his eyes, remembering the fuss the party made while they interrogated them about a few hours ago. She looks around, the diplomas displayed on the back, tears slightly welled up in her E/C eyes, feeling a pit in her stomach, “I-I’m sorry. Is there any way I could help?”

She snapped.

Heavy streams of tears dropped onto her pale cheeks, now one of her responsibilities of whom she had promised to take care of was gone. If she should’ve stayed a little longer, just an hour more, she could’ve prevented it. It’s all her fault, all her fault. No wonder she was a failure, maybe those dorks from years ago were right. It was all her fault her mom ever divorced Hopper. It’s everything, all her fault-

“Y/N,” A large hand rubbed her back up and down, making her try to feel better, the girl that had her hands buried into her face, looked up to see her dad, sitting beside her, “You just have to keep a brave face, and no investigating okay?”

Her heavy eyes drift towards the bearded man, watching her sternly beside her, she frantically nods. Later then, she provided a bit more information about Will and his family, now that she’s been with them for five years now. Ever since that broad decision was made, it would become one of the most treasured moments in her life, the strong bond brought them together.

Excused from the staff, she strolled back to the hallway, barging through her cluttered backpack to try to find a fresh pack of cigarettes, but none were to be found. She sighed loudly, to swing her backpack to its default position and pacing along the hallway. The realization kept hitting her, her eyes burned, while she quivered, biting her lip. That same feeling inside the principal’s office, the guilt. What was there to be guilty about anyways?

“Oh, won’t you look who it is!” A cocky tone appeared from afar, Y/N gave no shit to turn to the voice but instead continue watching the shiny floor, reflecting the lights above, “I guess Hopper is weeping for her mommy. Oh right, she doesn’t have one.”

Furious at the remark, her eyes darted across to find a brunette, with ‘perfect’ hair, leaning against the metal lockers. Steve fucking Harrington. This boy had it all against the girl, ever since those harsh words being repeated over and over, like a broken cassette, threw her into the lowest state. Y/N’s expressions turned bitter, her nose wrinkled, and pursed her lips, “Stop acting like you’re ten, Steve.”

”I see you’ve been listening,” He raises his eyebrows, snarlingly commenting, shifting his hands to his pockets in his khaki jeans.

“So?” Y/N spoke back, slowing her pace down to be able to talk to him although feeling like the need to ignore back again. Why was she going to bother her time with him?

Oh right.

Steve, her old friend. Accidental friends after he was helping his mom bringing in the groceries on a cool December day, back in her elementary school years. After the kind offering Y/N gave during a small ride around town, it evolved to an odd friendship, one to which Y/N had been too attached. Steve might have found it odd that a girl, a girl, like Y/N Hopper would be around him so much. Clingy, was the word he gave her, was it offensive?

Maybe.

But due to stereotypical construct, you would’ve guessed everyone calling them annoying names, couple names, like two romantics although they were only like, twelve. From “When are you going to marry her?” and the “Where’s your girlfriend?” Honestly, no one else was surprised by Y/N’s small reoccurring crush on him. Stuck like glue, Steve didn’t like this bubbly, excited Y/N anymore, she was pushy. Sick of the repetitive comments to him and meeting new friends, who were dickheads in the girl’s eyes, he wanted to push her away, she was annoying, bratty, and clingy. He listened to those kids, these kids that Steve considered ‘friends’ were total assholes, persuading him to become sort of like them. Only the beginning of the 6th grade. They were stupid, naive, reckless, are what other parents claimed to be, couldn’t they move on.

To this day, she still reckons why she ever told Steve, why was she so dependent on someone with who she’d only been friends for months? Why Steve? Why out of all the friends she supposedly had, why him? It seemed like an utter dependency she had for him, she even knows she must’ve scared him off for being well..... her. Y/N was young, it was one mistake to tell a secret to someone you somewhat knew would tell everyone, right?

”Can I tell you a secret Steve?” Y/N crossed her legs in front of him, playing with her fingers nervously. Awaiting for a bit of truth to be let out. As everyone has supposedly known, Y/N had a supposed mother and sister who were alive, and together. Everyone believed that the Hopper’s were the happy family, her sister was alive along with her mom that was still with them. Truth was, Sarah was dead, Diane divorced Jim when the girl was eleven years old. A broken family, from papers to fighting for custody, it was all crumbled to pieces, unlike close and tight-knit families.

Steve looked up from the ground to meet the girl’s eyes. He slowly shuffled closer to her, “Yeah okay tell me.”

Y/N breathed in and out, before leaning into his left ear, “I don’t have a sister nor a mommy.”

”What?” His chocolate eyes widened, scooting away from her, getting up rapidly to avoid contact, “That’s weird! Everybody has a mom! You’re a freak!”

Frazzled, Y/N sat still, watching him running away, feeling a bit hurt due to his reaction. She thought maybe she trusted him with her life although he didn’t feel the same, she thought that he could’ve been more supportive. What if he was right? Anyways, it was ok, it was his first reaction, it’s normal, right?

Nope, it wasn’t. After finding such intimate information about this girl he wanted to get rid of due to popularity, he set off to tell every single kid at school. Maybe this was for the best, he would get her out of the way to focus on his supposed friends. Creating such influence in the school, he somehow got ahold of everyone to turn their backs on Y/N. Oh, what entirety of hurtful words that they targeted poor Y/N with. Everyone excluded her, the freak, weirdo, dumb girl that didn’t have parents and a dead sister. Everybody no longer liked the lonely Y/N, just a bit of trust would be one to ruin a life. It consequently grew worse, it wasn’t even verbal teasing, it became physical. Steve being stupid and reckless had ruined her life, and for what? Just getting rid of her. Realize, how the effect of one's words to make a benefit can create a rumble over people, they were young and stupid..... can’t that be a proper excuse to move on?

Everyone knows Y/N. Y/N Hopper, the stubborn, tired and selfless girl who held grudges against everyone. They all knew she wasn’t going to move on anytime soon. Subtle changes to herself and her personality, she became quiet, reserved yet so outspoken about her opinions. Everyone seemed to have moved on, back into high school, more mature and old enough to hold responsibilities, but Y/N. A slow hatred burned inside her, even though it was years back, everyone liked Steve. That stayed the same for sure, he was more prissy and above it all, unlike Y/N. It may have seemed like........ they never knew each other. Strange, maybe it was better that they stayed apart.

Gallantly watching her feet stay still under her, she looked back at him cheekily smiling as if nothing had happened. Why did he forget everything? “Shouldn’t you be in class, since when has the Y/N Hopper been so rebellious?”

”I was called to the office,” Y/N mumbled, shrugging her shoulders, trying to drift off into the narrow hallway, “What about you?”

”Thought I could skip, Mrs. Wyatt doesn’t do shit.”

Without spatting anything back, the annoyance of the school bell rang for the third period, students piled out of the classrooms in the crowded hallway. Girls and boys trudged along the place, like birds migrating to their destinations automatically, it may seem like a normal fall day in town, but it would be a life changing experience for some. No one knew Will Byers, why would they care anyways?

Before Steve could look back at the girl, she disappeared into thin air, never to be seen for now, back to the boring classes, but with a small change of Will’s disappearance. One disappearance that could change the whole fate of small-town Hawkins, Indiana.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 7

Day 7 - There is a string tied around your pinky that only you can see, the end of it leads to your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Kid AU! Intrulogical

TWs: Remus being Remus [though not overly so, he’s like, 9 here], some swearing

–

Remus Castillo and Logan Smith were two very different children; former was creative and bursting with chaotic energy, while the latter preferred to be more logical, more stable. One studied hard into the night despite his young years, the other decided that a good time was filling a blender with crayons and silly putty to see what would happen. Both attended different schools, lived a good distance apart, and neither of their families knew the other existed.

What could possibly bring together such opposing forces?

If your answer wasn’t being forcibly dragged kicking and screaming from the local museum by security for tampering with the exhibits and screaming about historical theft, then congratulations; you’re most likely still sane.

How did these very different children meet, you ask? 

The story began on a Friday lunchtime - as all good stories often do - when Sanders Elementary and Faraday Academy For Gifted Children both booked their museum visits for the same time slot. Thankfully, the museum staff speculated that they could indeed handle two classes of fourth graders at once - those poor, unfortunate souls - and decided to start both classes off on either sides of the museum with a little overlap.

Logan entered the foyer with his peers, gazing around at the array of trinkets and treasures adorning the space. Though he hungered for knowledge of all kinds, his heart was set on the cosmos, reaching for a copy of the museum’s map when his hand was blocked by another. He recoiled and turned to face the other; a boy with tanned skin as opposed to his own pasty complexion, with wild green eyes that bore into Logan’s own, and a grin like a shark about to snap Logan’s hand up in it’s jaws.

“I call dibs, four eyes!”

Logan huffed, straightening his glasses, “There are plenty of maps to go around, there is no need for rudeness-”

“Why do you talk like you’ve got a stick up your ass?”, the boy asked with no hint of remorse nor shame, “Just talk like a regular kid, jeez!”

Logan was flabbergasted. No one had ever talked to him like that before. Then again, no one ever really talked to him in general. Perhaps that was why his lonely little brain could only think to stammer out, 

“Who ARE you!?”

The boy roared with laughter, “Wow, thats all you have to say!? And they call ME weird!” , he shot a hand out towards Logan’s, not removing the one touching the map, “I’m Remus! What’s your name, frankenstein?”

Logan huffed, “Logan Smith. And you know,”, he began, puffing his chest out proudly as he yanked the map away, “Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster, therefore, you’re not insulting me-”

Without hesitation, Remus leant into Logan’s space and licked the map, causing Logan to jolt back and drop it. Picking up his spoils, Remus chuckled manically, “You look smart but you’re super dumb. Frankenstein IS the monster, dumbass, that’s the whole point.”. Without waiting for Logan’s rebuttal, Remus made his way back to his class, leaving Logan to frustratedly grab another map and return to his class, unaware of the string that formed around his pinky…

The tour was everything Logan had hoped for; an informative romp through space and time, enjoying the sights of the planetarium and a walk through a tunnel lined with geodes. And yet, all Logan could think about was that stupid boy who stole HIS map. Hmph! How dare Remus call him stupid! Whatever, at least they would stop soon to have lunch in the Polar Exhibit and he wouldn’t have to think about- 

Oh god dammit.

As they entered the wide circular room, he laid eyes on the boy from before pretending to have gotten his tongue stuck to the giant fake iceberg in the centre of the room. Cheering him on was a gaggle of other children while their teacher seemed more content to just eat his own lunch and try to pretend it wasn’t his problem. Logan huffily stormed over to the nearest empty seat and popped open his Big Hero Six lunchbox, ready to moodily munch his jelly sandwiches when a painfully familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

“We meet again, professor!”

Great.

“Remus.”, Logan hissed, though he tried to maintain composure, “A pleasure, I’m sure but I must be-”

“- crazy to run away from your soulmate?”, Remus finished, leaving Logan, once again, speechless.

“E-Excuse me!?”

“Check your pinkie, dingus.”

Logan checked and finally noticed the string, and to his horror, the end of it that tied itself around Remus’ pinkie.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for life! Unless I die, then you’re stuck with my corpse. Oooh! Maybe you can bring me back to life! Really earn that Frankenstein nickname-”

“This HAS to be a mistake!”, Logan squeaked, flustered and shocked by the news, “There’s no way YOU are my soulmate!”

Logan made eye contact with Remus and for a moment the boy looked hurt, but he plastered on a grin and poked Logan in the arm, “Nope! Fate thinks you’re my future husband, so suck it!”

Groaning, Logan let out an exasperated sigh, “Fine, then I suppose you should tell me about yourself, Remus.”. Logan would - for eternity and a day after - deny that the smile Remus gave him made his little heart flutter for the first time.

As the two ate, Remus went into a long tangent about his life and Logan found himself absolutely fascinated. 

Remus Castillo had a twin brother, Roman, who enjoyed Disney movies and being “an overly wordy drama queen”. They had a single father, much like Logan’s own, whose wife had apparently decided she was destined for greater things that didn’t involve unplanned twin boys (Remus’ words, not his). Logan listened as Remus told him all about his family’s culture, having moved from Aguascalientes to Florida a year ago for work related reasons; retelling fond memories of watching the parade of Calaveras along the Avenida Madero with his father and brother each year. Logan found Remus really enjoyed a mixture of colourful and morbid subjects, each tangent sending Remus on a fun winding road down memory lane or through a vague memory of some educational book.

Logan Smith had wanted nothing to do with the boy who’d licked his hand and stolen his map, but as lunch ended and both classes were being called away to their respective classes, he found he didn’t want to be separated from Remus.

Very apparently, Remus didn’t want to either. If they way he was gasping Logan’s arm and hauling him towards the class from Sanders Elementary instead of his own was any indicator. 

“Come on! You can hang with us! Roman won’t mind! And my buddy Remy’s lotsa fun too-”

“Remus Castillo, stop right there.”

Remus indignantly ignored his teacher, plowing through his sentence, “You’ll LOVE my class, they’re all weirdos like us-”

“REMUS!”, barked his teacher, already done with the nine year old terror, “You let that boy go this instant!”

Remus defiantly clung tighter to Logan’s arm, “No!”

“Remus Castillo, you’re to let go NOW.”

“But he’s my soulmate!”, Remus yelled, causing his classmates to chatter excitedly. It made Logan feel a little self conscious, but Remus didn’t seem to care, “Pleeeeease let him come with us!!”

His teacher rubbed his temples as if it could massage the exhaustion away, “That’s nice, but you are NOT going to cause more trouble, soulmate or not!”

By now, even the children and teacher from Logan’s academy were watching the commotion. It came to a head as Remus’ teacher tried to separate the two of them, earning the tiniest war cry from Remus as he stomped on his teacher’s foot and clung fully to Logan like his life depended on it.

“I’M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT HIM! I’LL STAY HERE UNTIL WE’RE A GROSS MUSHY PILE OF SKIN AND BONES IF I HAVE TO!”

With that pleasant image in his brain, Logan decided to perhaps appeal to his own teacher,

“Miss, can Remus perhaps stay with our group so we may avoid further-”

“Absolutely not,”, she turned up her nose at Remus’ display, “Our school has a reputation to uphold, I will not have it sullied by such a rude child.”

Well that backfired. Now both teachers were having to try and separate the two of them. It took two of the museum’s security personnel to finally haul Remus off of Logan, carrying the writhing child as they assured his teacher that they’d put him in the tantrum room. With the way they handled his feral yelling and attempts to grab at any nearby exhibits for something he could use to bash them with, this probably wasn’t their first Rabid Child Rodeo.

Logan watched dejectedly as they hauled his soulmate out of sight while his teacher ordered him to get in line as they continued their tour. He couldn’t focus on any of the various bewitching artifacts that the guide presented to them on their tour of the ancient world though, all he could think about was Remus. Alone. Stuck in some room. Missing out on the exhibits. Missing him.

“....Emile?”, Logan asked the boy standing to his left.

“Yes, Logan?”

“I’m about to do something very, very impulsive.”

“.... Okay?”

“And reckless.”

“...Right-”

“In the name of fate.”

“........”, Emile sighed, “What do you need me to do?”

“Either talk me out of what is likely a terrible decision that will without a doubt go on my permanent record and possibly disappoint my father. Or encourage me so that I may spend time with my soulmate for as long as possible.”

Emile shook his head, “Well, if cartoons have taught me anything, it’s that you’re gonna go for it no matter what I say so...”. He placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder, “Make it good, Logan, I wanna remember the day the untouchable Logan Smith lost his mind.”. With a shared chuckle, Emile let him wind up for whatever he was about to do, while Logan waited for his moment. The tour guide was gesturing to an exhibit of ancient Mayan armour when Logan chose to strike, raising his hand while Emile awaited the fireworks show to come.

“Sir? I have a question.“

“Of course, what is it?”

“Did the museum ask permission to have that armour?”

The guide looked confused while Logan’s teacher looked ready to have an aneurysm.

“I… don’t understand what you mean. Anyway this-”

“I’m merely asking,”, Logan interrupted, ready to keep pushing until he would be  hauled off by security, “because I believe that if it were my culture being mercilessly appropriated and stolen from, I would be rather upset.”

“We’re allowed to have it because it’s for education-”

“But it’s still stealing. And stealing is always wrong, correct?”

“Well, it-”

“It’s a yes or no question, please answer as such-”

-

Remus hadn’t expected company in the tantrum room, but he wasn’t complaining as Logan was marched in, looking positively proud of himself in spite of the way the security guard nearly tossed him inside with obvious frustration. With a bright grin, Remus pat the beanbag next to him, positively writhing with unbridled joy, “Spill! What’d you do?!”.

Logan tried to play stoic and prideful, but the excitement cracked through in his voice, “I merely inquired as to why museums considered their historical thievery to be ethically justified until the tour guide got angry and attempted to ignore me.”. “Sick!! Then what!?”, Remus’ delighted eyes met Logan’s with a similar sparkle of mischief.

Logan chuckled as he admired their string of fate, as people called it, slowly pulling his eyes from it to meet Remus’ again, “I screamed. Loudly. For quite the duration. I must say, I’m rather proud of my own lung capacity.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness in it.

“Naturally, security came to try and calm the situation.”

“And then they brought you here?”

“No, they attempted to calm me down”, Logan snickered, “But, one of them put a hand on my shoulder rather rudely. So I bit them-” “YOU BIT ‘EM!?”, if Logan could bottle the light that radiated from Remus there and then, he would have, his own smile growing while his soulmate’s grin threatened to tear through his cheeks, “Logan, mi alma, you’re insane! I love it!”

“Mi alma?”, Logan queried, his cheeks losing the great blush war as his face radiated a nice rosy crimson.

“Oh, right!”, Remus explained, “It means ‘my soul’, it’s what people call their boyfriends ‘n’ stuff back home. I figured since you’re my soulmate, it makes sense to call you that!”

For a moment, Remus faltered, “Uh…. if you don’t mind I guess? It’s whatever, I’ll stop if you hate it-”

“No, no, I rather appreciate the sentiment,” , Logan awkwardly smiled back at Remus, “Mi alma?”

The wilder of the two threw his head back in a roar laughter, “Man, your pronunciation sucks! And that’s an easy one!“, he teased as he shuffled his beanbag closer to Logan’s and continued with a wild smile, “Looks like I gotta stay with you for sure now and make sure you get it right! You’re stuck with me, Nerdy Wolverine!”

It would be hard work convincing his father to let him move schools to be with Remus, Logan knew that. Despite the fact his father adored love in all forms and regarded the bond of soulmates as sacred, Logan knew it’d logically be a hard sell to ask his father to not only pull him out of an expensive academy, but also to have him possibly move home or make a rather lengthy commute. 

But as Remus’ had met Logan’s, the latter found himself locking fingers with his wild soulmate, banishing that thought while they still had time together. Whether it would work out right away, after a couple of months, or even over the course of a few years, they’d make it work.

“Falsehood,”, Logan smirked, “I believe it’s you that’s stuck with me.”

-----------

Okay, this one’s the cutest thing hands down. I’m so proud of this one! As a tidbit, I had it in mind that their single fathers were Janus for the twins and Patton for Logan. 

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

[mostlycompetentwriter]

TMT One-Shot

F/M Pairing: Y/N x 3racha (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: High School AU

Warnings: Lots of smut and language; mentions of alcohol

Summary: Y/N is the shy, awkward girl who can’t talk to boys while doing her best to exist as a shadow throughout her high school life. Her two brothers, Minho and Felix, are the complete opposite. Minho is the cool, suave music addict who wants to be in his own band one day, while Felix is the stereotypical popular kid whose best friend, Han Jisung, tirelessly trails after his friend’s older sister. However, despite their differences, the three siblings share a very close relationship and Y/N considers them to be her only real friends. 

One day, Minho brings home two classmates from his community college and Y/N realizes, for the very first time, that the sweet taste of desire is highly addictive.

When my mother died, I was only 10-years-old. She slipped away like a ghost, quietly and without notice, and I was left feeling broken on the inside. If I was a therapist, unlike the contemptuous older woman who always spoke to me with a condescending tone, I’d likely attribute the traumatic event to the person I started to become. 

Instead of bouncing back from her death like my brothers Minho and Felix, I started to feel sad all the time. Accordingly, I lost many of the friends I met in Elementary school because I chose to sit quietly in my classes when I didn't feel like talking to anyone else. Likewise, I also declined their invitations to visit their houses or ride with their parents to the movie theaters. Actually, I exchanged those friendships for the solitude of my bedroom at home where I usually spent the evening staring vacantly at the ceiling while trying not to cry anymore.

Yeah, I guess it was kinda my fault.

Overtime, my status evolved from the kind, amiable Y/N who everyone at school admired, to the sullen and despondent weird girl who sometimes spoke to imaginary friends. I spent recesses inside with my teachers, helping them clean the whiteboard. During lunch, I sat alone with my school tray and thought about how my mother used to pack my lunches for me because I complained about the mystery meatloaf....Oh, right, thinking about my mother inevitably made me feel sad again and sometimes I cried at school in front of my classmates. 

Needless to say, my youth wasn’t exactly as voracious as my peers...or even my brothers for that matter. Actually, Minho and Felix were perfectly normal because they mourned our mother’s death for several months before inexplicably moving on as if it had never happened. Thereafter, Minho developed a passion for music and my father allowed him to take guitar and piano lessons after school. Felix started to play sports and he was quite good at baseball despite his smaller stature. Likewise, in between classes, I heard my classmates frequently gossiping about my brothers: mysterious and alluring Minho who all the older girls adored, and popular and beloved Felix who was the envy of our classmates. 

I didn’t mind being considered an outsider in comparison to my brothers because they still treated me like a friend. In fact, my brothers and I were extremely close, especially after our mother’s death. Despite my introverted tendencies, Minho and Felix often went out of their way to include me in their activities. For example, Minho liked to offer his demos as background music for the raunchier parties in our town and he always begged me to come along and hear his new songs. My older brother was so incredibly talented that I rarely refused his offers, finding myself sitting next to Felix in the backseat of Minho’s car while we drove across town to the wealthier districts. I would spend the rest of the night hanging around my brothers while listening to Minho sing about everything from his ex-girlfriends to the pot he liked to smoke with some of the younger guys.

In any case, I could always count on my brothers to liven my spirits, which might explain why I was so uncomfortable when Minho graduated and applied for University. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because Minho was only driving thirty minutes everyday to attend his classes and he still lived at home. But it still felt like an unwanted change, and I wasn’t sure how to cope with my brother’s sudden desire to build a studio in the basement of our childhood home while he brought new classmates to fawn over his equipment.

Thankfully, I managed to avoid the unfamiliar faces, and I started spending more time with Felix. Unfortunately, spending time with Felix inevitably forced me to endure the endless pandering from some of his more unsavory acquaintances. For example, when I wanted to play video games one afternoon, I knocked twice on Felix’s door only to find myself in the company of someone who was decidedly the complete opposite of my brother. His name was Han Jisung, and he was Felix’s best friend. “Y/N,” he said quietly, sheepishly attempting to fix the mop on top of his head. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said, glancing over Jisung’s shoulder. “Where’s Felix?”

“Bathroom,” Jisung said, pointing at the door. 

I groaned. “Are you busy?”

“We’re never too busy for you,” Jisung smirked, but he always flirted with me shamelessly as if he didn’t care that I was Felix’s older sister.

I ignored Jisung when I walked into Felix’s bedroom, finding a relatively clean spot on his bed to wait for his return. In the meantime, Jisung lingered by the doorway, watching me with those ridiculous dark eyes. “I heard Minho made another demo.”

“He’s always making demos,” I replied, wondering why Felix was determined to take his time for once.

“Yeah, but he’s really proud of this one.”

“Minho thinks he’s a genius,” I said. “If you were to ask him, then every song he made would be a masterpiece.”

“Well, he’s the reason why I've started to pursue music.”

“You?” I scoffed, finding the idea of Jisung as a creator of anything other than enormous messes on the kitchen counter to be nothing short of hilarious. “Jisung, you can’t even finish your math homework.”

“That’s not true!” Jisung protested. “It’s just not that interesting, and I like music so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You’ll find something else to like in a few months,” I said, watching as he frowned with that ridiculous pout he always wore when he wasn’t getting his way.

“Yeah? Well, when my first mixtape comes out,” Jisung grumbled. 

“I’ll be the first one asking for an autograph,” I teased him, rolling my eyes when he sat next to me and held up his pinky finger.

“Promise?”

“Fine,” I sighed before trying to move further away from Jisung.

He didn’t allow the space for very long, sliding right up against me without any traces of his previous frustrations. “Y/N,” Jisung said, hand reaching out for my shoulder. “There’s a party this Friday.”

“I’m not in the mood for a party,” I said. “I have a lot of homework this weekend, and-”

“Actually, Minho invited us,” Felix interrupted, and I didn’t even realize that my brother had returned. I was also surprised to see Minho behind him, stretching his arms above his head like he had forgotten to sleep again last night.

“You’re going too?” I asked Minho.

“It’s Chan’s party,” Minho explained. “He’s playing some of my demo tracks.”

“Bang Chan,” I repeated, narrowing my eyes because I had heard my brother mention that name dozens of times. Actually, if I didn’t know any better, then I would think Minho had some kind of infatuation with his new college friend.

“I think Minho is in love,” Felix teased, dodging Minho’s playful swing before he joined Jisung and I on the edge of his bed.

“He’s just a friend from one of my lectures,” Minho said. 

“Minho also thinks he’s a genius,” Felix whispered to me, but it was loud enough for our brother to overhear. 

“You like him too,” Minho protested.

“Felix met him?”

“Last week,” Felix beamed. “Minho and I ran into him on the way to get coffee. Your lazy ass was still asleep at 12:00.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I stayed up late to finish an essay.”

“College will kick your ass, Y/N,” Minho said. “If you can’t survive high school literature...”

“I get it,” I groaned. “I don’t want another lecture.”

“Good, but you’re still coming to the party because I want you to meet Chan and hear your brother’s masterpiece.”

“Please stop calling your mixtape a masterpiece.”

“I’ll consider it,” Minho smirked, “as long as I see you at Chan’s house this Friday.”

“This is considered blackmail, Minho,” I sighed. “But fine, I’ll need the time and address, please.”

I stood on the porch in the frigid cold wearing a party dress that might’ve been overkill, and I had a desire to return to my house because nobody was answering the door. Actually, when I really thought about it, this complex was too nice for a college student, unless Chan had discovered Blackbeard’s treasure or something. I snorted at my own joke, waiting impatiently for someone to let me inside because my brothers weren’t responding to my text messages. 

The music sounded faint from behind the door, which made me wonder if Minho had given me the wrong address. It wouldn’t be the first time that my brother gave me some kind of misinformation, but I thought he really wanted me to come tonight and hear his music. “Hello!” I yelled, banging my fist against the door. “Minho? I’m leaving in exactly ten seconds if nobody lets me inside!”

I started the countdown in my head, jumping up and down to warm my muscles, when a sudden expulsion of heat relieved the tension slowly numbing my fingers. “There you are,” Felix said with a drunken smile.

“Isn’t too early for you to be plastered?”

Felix giggled. “They’re playing Minho’s music next.”

“Well, let me inside you asshole,” I said, pushing my way into the house because my brother had clearly forgotten that it was basically snowing outside.

“What do you think?” Felix asked. “It’s pretty nice.”

“I can’t see anything,” I complained, narrowing my eyes since it was difficult to notice the details when the house was packed wall to wall with intoxicated college students. The lights were also dimmed, which meant that walking was an unnecessary chore as Felix took my hand and brought me into the kitchen where he promised Minho was waiting.

At least he wasn’t fully incapable. 

“Y/N,” Minho grinned, tossing an arm around my shoulder as he pulled me closer, allowing me to smell the nasty liquor on his breath.

“Drunk at your mixtape reveal party?”

Minho laughed. “I haven’t had much.”

“Felix has,” I said, grimacing when I spotted my younger brother bouncing from person to person with an unmaintainable energy.

“Let him have fun,” Minho said. “I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Whatever, but he’s your responsibility in the morning when he’s suffering from a hangover.”

“I’ll handle it,” Minho reassured me. “Anyway, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh?”

“Chan! Get your ass over here!”

“What a good friend you are,” I remarked, and I was fully prepared to tease my brother further until I realized that Minho was waving down one of the most attractive men I had ever seen.

Chan was absolutely gorgeous, appearing nothing short of debauched under the low-hanging lights of the kitchen. Neatly styled blonde-hair parted down the middle, and bright blue eyes that held the stars inside an endless sea of black. “Are you guys having fun?” he asked with an accent that I couldn’t place.

“The place is fucking awesome, man,” Minho said, wrapping an arm around Chan’s shoulders as he nodded in my direction. “This is my sister,” Minho said with a proud smile. 

“Hello,” I said, cringing at my tone.

“Y/N,” Chan smiled, and I decided that nobody could ever say my name again with such a sexy tenor.

“You have a lovely home,” I said, swallowing hard when Chan leaned in closer. 

“Minho talks about you a lot,” Chan said with a smirk. “Do you want something to drink?”

I nodded without thinking, keeping my eyes trained on his beautiful visage as a beer slipped into my hand. “Pace yourself,” Minho warned me, but I ignored him as I swallowed down the bile-tasting liquid.

“I like her,” Chan nodded, looking at me seductively from over the top of his bottle.

“She’s a bit uptight,” Minho chuckled, and I glared at him because this was not the time to embarrass me. “Are my songs playing next?”

“I’ll make sure everything is ready,” Chan said, giving me one last lingering look.

“Let’s find a good place to hear everything,” Minho suggested, and I followed my brother with thoughts and fantasies consumed by Bang Chan.

Minho’s mixtape was really good, and I begrudgingly congratulated my brother and even allowed him to tell everyone that it was, in fact, a masterpiece. However, while my brother was distracted by a group of younger fan-girls, I slipped away to try and find somewhere peaceful to recover from my headache. It had developed sometime between the pounding bass line of “BEWARE” and the aggressive tone of “Boxer.” 

I paused next to the foyer where there were considerably less people. In fact, only one student lingered next to the open window, and I leaned against the wall as I closed my eyes against the distinct ringing in my ears. Next time, I would wear earplugs when Minho forced me to stand at the speakers.

“You’re not going to pass out, right?”

I blinked several times as the room swam into focus. “I’ll probably make it.”

“There’s a bathroom upstairs,” the rough voice continued, and I finally addressed the hooded figure standing at the window. I realized that he was smoking, holding the bud of the cigarette outside so that the ashes collected somewhere on the porch. “I’m Changbin,” he smirked. 

“Oh,” I cleared my throat. “Do you mind if I share the window?”

He shrugged, tossing his hood back so that I could see the way his black hair fell flat against his head. “Sure.”

I carefully felt my way along the wall until the generous cold breeze was hitting my flushed skin. “Thank god,” I groaned, practically forcing my head outside.

“Drink too much?”

“A combination of that and the music.”

“I heard a rumor that the beer was definitely spiked,” he said, dark eyes looking me over. “You’re obviously new here.”

“I’m with my brother,” I offered cautiously in response to his sudden advances.

“Do I know him?”

“Lee Minho.”

Changbin’s eyes widened. “We’re in the same music composition lecture. I thought he mentioned you in class.”

“He invited me,” I continued, but I didn’t understand why I felt the need to justify myself to him.

“I bet he did,” Changbin nodded. “Why would he hide you from us?”

I shivered. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Is that right?” he asked before cornering me against the wall with a hungry gaze. “You hear the song playing?”

I nodded. “It’s loud.”

Changbin chuckled. “I made it.”

I nodded again because that certainly explained the explicit lyrics. “It’s...interesting?”

“Yeah?” Changbin purred. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” I gasped, feeling one of his hands grab me around the waist.

His lips brushed against mine, soft and sensual, while he inhaled deeply. “Y/N, is this your first party?”

“No,” I whispered because it suddenly felt like we were the only two people left in the room.

“I just assumed,” he said. “From the way you’re reacting.”

“W-what?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted to go someplace else with me,” Changin said.

I was completely baffled by his assumption, searching for the right words, but they never came. However, the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat forced us apart, and I was surprised to see Chan standing so close. “I guess you’ve met Minho’s little sister,” Chan said and I hated how immature the introduction sounded. 

“She made sure to tell me,” Changbin smirked. “I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

“He’s looking for her,” Chan continued, and I was confused by the hostility in his tone. “You probably shouldn’t do anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Changbin retorted, planting one of his hands next to my head. “She’s feeling sick. Tell Minho I can take her home.”

“He won’t like that.”

“Oh? Is anyone else sober?”

Chan was quiet for a moment, eyes darting between the two of us. “Wait here.”

“What a good host,” Changbin snarked, but Chan was already walking away and I was starting to feel the effects of my alcoholic consumption darken the edges of my vision.

My brother was nothing short of incoherent, swaying back against Chan as he tried to give me a stern look. “Y/N, I hope you didn’t drink too much.”

“Really?” I snorted. “Isn’t that hypocritical?”

Of course, my admonishment had no effect on Minho. “Chan said that you were feeling sick.”

“It’s just a headache,” I said, although my churning stomach seemed to suggest otherwise.

“I thought I could take Y/N home,” Changbin interrupted. “I guess she could use some fresher air.”

“Sure,” Minho nodded, eyes glassy. “I don’t mind.”

Minho was readily willing to entrust his sister into the care of someone she had just met, and that’s when I knew that he couldn’t be trusted to take me anywhere. “Is that what you want?” Chan asked.

I shrugged because it might be nice to finally escape the endless drumming of Chan’s intricate sound system. “I might be saving myself some trouble.”

“I need more cigarettes,” Changbin said. “I’m running low and I know there’s a store near Minho’s house.

I frowned, but figured that Minho had brought Changbin over to our house before during that brief phase at the start of his college semester when I saw a new face in the basement every week. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“As long as you behave,” Chan warned him quietly, but I never had the opportunity to question him before Changbin was forcing us both outside onto the main porch where the snow was starting to build along the sidewalks.

“This way,” Changbin said, resting one of his hands against my lower back as he guided us down the street.

Changbin’s car was a very old model and the paint was starting to peel from the doors. He helped me inside slowly, reaching for my seat-belt before I slapped his hands out of the way because I could manage to do that by myself. He chuckled at my glare. “Comfortable?”

I nodded in response and waited for him to turn on the ignition before I was savoring the accompanying blast of heat even though it smelled distinctly of ashes. “Minho’s little sister,” Changbin said, eyes focused on the road in front of him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I replied because the growing distance between us and Chan’s party music was actually nice. “I guess the music gave me a headache.”

“That’s how Chan likes it,” Changbin said. “He’s gotten at least a dozen noise complaints from this past month alone.”

“How many parties does he have!”

Changbin smirked. “He likes to keep his house full.”

“It might’ve been too much tonight,” I said, leaning my head against the cold window. “I’ve never seen so many people.”

“Exams,” Changbin said. “When college students feel stressed, they like to get shitfaced.”

“But you’re not drunk.”

“Who said that I was stressed?”

His tone was strangely flirtatious, especially when he looked at me. “You didn’t have to help me, you know?”

“I know, but it was my window we were sharing,” Changbin said. “You looked like you were seconds away from crashing.”

“I can take care of myself,” I replied, even though it was rather harsh to criticize someone who was currently neglecting the speed limit to take my home as quickly as possible. “When did you meet Minho?”

“A few weeks ago,” Changbin said. “We worked on a project together.”

“I guess you’ve already been to my house.”

“Yeah, but I sure as hell don’t remember seeing you.”

“I don’t really like to socialize with most of my brother’s friends.” 

“Well, that explains a lot,” Changbin said, briefly glancing at me. “Are you that type? The unattainable girl next door?”

“I just don’t like people,” I grumbled, but Changbin seemed to think it was funny, laughing at my expense while reaching down to turn on the radio despite the fact that music had caused my headache in the first place.

Of course, I didn’t want to be that type, so I endured his self-promotion, listening to his gravelly voice suspend the entire car into some kind of hip-hip haven. He talked his way through the introductions of every song on his mixtapes, bragging about his compositions and arrangements. “It’s all about authenticity,” he explained when we finally pulled into my driveway.

“Is that so?” I sighed, frowning when I realized Felix had forgotten to turn on the front porch light.

“I guess I should wait until you’re inside,” Changbin chuckled.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching out for the door handle.

“Woah! Baby, where are you going?” Changbin asked, and I quickly returned my hands to my lap. “Are you trying to get away from me?”

“No,” I shook my head, breathing heavily when he reached for my thigh.

“You probably don’t hear this a lot,” Changbin continued. “But you’re really sexy.”

I startled at his words. “Thank you?”

“I mean it, Y/N,” he continued, fingers inching along my thigh like it was free real estate. “Thank god you wanted to share my window.”

I shook my head rapidly when he turned off the ignition, navigating the waistband of his panties to drag his hand against my sensitive core. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I’m trying to make you feel good,” he said. “Do you want me to?”

I nodded this time, waiting with my fists balled against the leather seats while he penetrated the soft walls of my core, moving in and out slowly to help me adjust to his fingers. I tried to relax, dropping my shoulders and controlling the way I was panting in desperation for more of the addicting feeling he was creating in my lower abdomen. It all felt entirely scandalous, feeling the way his fingers dragged across my insides, curling against the most responsive parts and watching me with an intensity that I could barely tolerate. I was moaning for him, calling his name softly because he was starting to increase his movements, and I focused on the way his wrist reappeared from underneath my skirt before losing itself in a sea of denim fabric.

“It’s wet,” he remarked, and the sounds of his penetration were growing louder, intermingling with my rapid breaths and the dark tone of his voice. “I can feel it.”

I knew what he meant because my entire body was pulsing in time to the pace in which he played with me. It was like I was his personal experiment, testing how I reacted to certain touches, especially when he crooked his fingers and a moan would displace the temporary quiet. “Changbin,” I whined, reaching for his arm because everything was starting to feel overwhelming.

“I got you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me, Y/N, I’m not gonna stop until you cum.”

I orgasmed at his filthy words, falling down from the place he sent me and into a deep headspace. He pulled his fingers back, holding them up so that I could clearly see the evidence of my release in the faint light from the street lamp outside. “You didn’t expect that,” Changbin said calmly, reaching for a tissue from the backseat while I tried to figure out what just happened. “I don’t really care who your brother is,” he continued, moving in close. “I think we should fuck next time.” 

“Changbin,” I said, “if Minho finds out-”

“Why are you always worried about him?”

“He’s my brother!”

“Oh? Well, in that case, since you want to be good for your older brother,” Changbin smirked. “I guess I’ll have to find a different way to see you again.”

The next morning, I took a shower because I could still feel traces of Changbin’s touches between my thighs. The water was hot, fogging up the mirrors and making it difficult to breathe. It was necessary because I could function better when I re-emerged with fresh clothes and a sudden hunger for those little chocolate muffins my mom bought at the store.

I walked downstairs, noticing Felix and Jisung both sitting at the counter while they talked over their breakfast. Felix noticed me first, watching as I grabbed a leftover pastry from the fridge before leaning back against the cabinets. “Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes, but then I realized that his question was innocent because he definitely didn’t know about Changbin. “It was nice.”

“What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I haven’t made plans.”

“You can hang out with me and Jisung today,” Felix suggested. “We’re just going for coffee.”

Jisung met my gaze from over the table and he quickly looked away as if he wasn’t expecting the contact. “Yeah,” I nodded. “I could use some coffee.”

It wasn’t often that I accompanied Felix and Jisung when they decided to actually leave the house and my brother’s massive collection of video games. Felix was never the problem, but I could only endure so much of Jisung’s flirtations before I inevitably made another pointless vow to try and ignore him. It was an impossible promise to keep since Felix was practically glued to his hip, and I can’t remember the last time Jisung actually spent the night at his own home.

However, coffee was nice and the taste was bile so it sat heavy on my tongue and provided a good distraction, even if that meant listening to my brother and Felix talk about the party. “I met Chan,” Jisung said. “He was really cool.”

Felix nodded, eyeing his coffee with obvious distaste. “Minho seems to like him.”

“He introduced me to his partner, Changbin,” Jisung continued and I fidgeted nervously at the mention of his name. “Apparently, they do a lot of work together.”

“I’ve heard their stuff,” Felix said, finally pushing away his coffee cup in exchange for his orange juice. “I think they’re really talented.”

“It’s like you’re meeting real professionals,” Jisung gushed and I rolled my eyes. “I let them listen to one of my demos,” Jisung chuckled. “I think they want to work together.”

“Really?” Felix gasped. “That’s amazing!”

“I guess they need another partner,” I remarked, shivering when I thought about my encounter with Changbin from the previous evening.

“You can always come with me to the studio tomorrow,” Jisung said. “If you want.”

The idea of being alone with Jisung wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities. “I don’t know...”

“Changbin will be there too,” Jisung added. “Minho said he really thought you were cool at the party.”

“I bet he did,” I grumbled.

“Why are you inviting her instead of your best friend?” Felix pouted.

“You said you needed to work on a project,” Jisung reminded him. “Actually, you made me swear to keep away distractions!”

“Alright, fine,” Felix sighed. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with it.”

Jisung ignored my brother’s sullen expression. “Y/N? Do you want to come?”

“I guess,” I said, and I had no idea what possessed me to agree with his request until it was too late.

The next morning, I met Jisung outside of the address he had sent to my phone with several rather inappropriate emojis. I made sure to scold him for the messages, but he was far too excited, ignoring my complaints when he started talking about the new project he was working on with Chan and Changbin. “Come on,” he said, holding open the door as I walked inside the tiny lobby of the simple two-story building. “We’re on the top floor,” Jisung smirked as if that was something to brag about considering the condition of the worn-down warehouse they were using as a studio.

However, I knew that he was excited, so I feigned a smile as he continued talking about the building’s intricate history while we walked up the staircase to pause outside of a studio room. “Is this it?” I asked.

He nodded, reaching for the door handle. “They should be inside.”

True to his word, Chan and Changbin were standing together in front of a large computer monitor, turning around when they heard me and Jisung enter the room together. “There you are,” Chan said, but his gaze was strangely focused on me.

“We have some stuff for you to hear,” Changbin said, stretching his arms above his head. “I need some coffee first.”

“There’s a gas station down the road,” Jisung said. “I’ll go with you?”

Changbin looked at me for a moment before agreeing to Jisung’s proposal. “We’ll have plenty of time to work when we get back.”

“You’re in for a surprise, Jisung,” Chan said. “Actually, while the two of you are gone, maybe Y/N could look at some of the tracks?”

“Really?” I asked, surprised that he would be so willing to share, but he was already dragging me down into the desk chair, pulling me closer to the monitor.

“You can take you time and browse,” he said, joining Jisung and Changbin at the door.

They started talking about something else, but I was too busy admiring the vast number of tracks listened in sequential order on Chan’s computer. Despite how I might feel about Changbin, it was impossible to deny that their work was impressive, spreading across years of effort. It felt like I was being allowed an intimate glimpse of the artists who were growing more popular everyday.

“Try to be back in twenty minutes,” Chan said, and I watched Jisung and Changbin leave together, whispering in low tones while Chan shut the door behind them. “Your music is really good,” I said, scrolling through the library of his songs. It only made him that much more appealing when I could see the evidence of his passion.

“Are we going to stop playing games, Y/N?”

I frowned at his question, turning around in the chair. “What do you mean?”

Chan smirked, and I realized that it wasn’t playful. “Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?” he asked.

“Chan...” I trailed off, frozen in place while he slowly leered in my direction, taking several, meaningful steps before he was bracing himself on either side of the desk behind me. 

“Changbin told me about what happened in the car.”

I swallowed hard. “W-what?”

“Is that all it takes? A couple of fingers to satisfy you?”

“Chan, I don’t understand,” I tried, gasping when he picked me up out of the chair, legs wrapping around his waist automatically before he sat me down on the desk.

“Do you want it again?” Chan asked, running his hands alongside my waist before crawling his finger across the bare skin of my thighs, disregarding the thin barrier of my skirt. I felt him press the palm of his hand against my wet heat, fingers testing the edges of my panties. “I can make you feel good.”

The sensation was too much, and I found myself nodding without really thinking about the consequences. “Please.”

His fingers were suddenly penetrating my delicate walls, sliding in and out at a vicious pace that left me aching for something more. “Tell me, Y/N,” Chan demanded, using his thumb to circle my throbbing clitoris. “How does it feel?”

“I want it, Chan,” I moaned, bracing my hands against his firm chest as he continued to pleasure me. Unlike Changbin, I could tell that Chan was determined to make me cum as soon as possible, twisting his hand and jamming his fingers like he was aiming to make me lose my mind. I practically fell against him crying, riding out the waves of my high, while he ignored my whimpers when everything was suddenly feeling overstimulated.

“Come here,” he said, pulling out his fingers before falling against his chair and patting his thighs.

My legs were shaking when Chan helped me onto his lap and I moaned when his fingers crooked against my walls again. “Do you want my cock?” he asked and I nodded viciously, sending strands of my hair flying in all directions. “What a good girl,” he snarled, ripping his fingers away and leaving me whining around the empty space he left behind.

“Chan,” I groaned, resting my head against his shoulder while I watched him make a show out of undoing the belt around his waist, unzipping his skinny jeans before shoving the material down his thighs. His erection strained the silky material of his boxer shorts, and I was practically salivating.

He reached down to rub himself through his shorts, outlining his cock in a way that made me realize that I wasn’t going to leave this studio without an obvious limp. “Y/N,” he said. “Take off your skirt for me.”

I whined, but obeyed him instantly, bracing one hand against his shoulder while the other practically ripped the fine material of the pretty skirt down my legs and into the studio floor. Chan’s eyes darkened, grabbing my waist between his hands to grind the front of my soaked panties against his erection. “Please,” I cried, wanting nothing more than to take matters into my own hands, but Chan’s grip was impossible to break.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy,” Chan growled. “Can you last long enough for me to come inside?”

“Yes,” I whined, stuttering around a broken sob when he pulled his cock into the studio light, stretching my panties to the side before sinking deep inside my pulsing heat.

“That’s right,” Chan said, eyes closed. “You feel so good.”

“Chan,” I moaned, eye widening when the stretch felt impossible, like he was splitting me open even when common sense told me that it was just my body accommodating to his cock.

His hips slammed into mine, and I could barely reciprocate when he easily overpowered my attempts to meet him somewhere between our bodies. Instead, he took control and I let him have it because he knew exactly what to do before sending me over the edge again, ignoring my cries when he continued to chase his own high, grunting against my ear when he came inside.

“Y/N,” he sighed, keeping me in place despite the fact that his cock was completely flaccid. “Such a good girl.”

I was incoherent and incapable of offering a response in return. Instead, I buried my face into the side of his neck, smelling the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the sex polluting the air around us. His body was firm and warm, and I closed my eyes because everything felt like an incredibly lucid dream.

I was still exhausted from the previous afternoon, unable to walk much further than from my bedroom to the living room before the painful reminder of my unexpected session with Chan started to ache between my legs. There was a movie playing on the television, but I was only somewhat focused on the lazy plot and characters. Instead, I was thinking about my interactions with Chan and Changbin, wondering if the two men were playing some sort of mind game with me.

I only managed to tear myself away from those thoughts when I saw Minho as he walked down the stairs with Felix and Jisung talking about something to do with a sports competition. “There you are!” Felix exclaimed. “We were just talking about your visit to the studio with Jisung.”

“I heard you got a tour,” Minho said. “That was nice of them.”

“Yeah,” I agree because there was a lot more to talk about besides the tour of the dilapidated studio.

“I haven’t had a chance to visit,” Minho said. “But they said I could record my new demo there.”

“Another one!” Felix gasped, looking at my brother with wide eyes. “You’re a fucking genius, man.”

“Oh, I know,” Minho smirked. “Actually, I can show you before my first lecture,” Minho said, starting in the direction of his bedroom.

Jisung watched Felix trail behind Minho before he joined me on the couch. “What did you think of the studio?”

I swallowed hard. “It was fine.”

“I think it’s really nice,” Jisung said. “Chan said something making us a permanent trio! He even gave us a name and everything!”

“Oh?”

“3racha,” Jisung giggled. “It’s like a pun-”

“Yeah, I get it,” I sighed impatiently. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

Jisung was undeterred by the sharp comment, and he buried himself further into the cushions before turning his attention back to the screen.

“Our first show is tomorrow, Y/N,” Jisung giggled, and I finally turned to look at him. “I hope you can watch?”

“Where?”

“It’s a club somewhere downtown. I can send you the address? I know that Chan and Changbin were both insisting that you come.”

“I’m sure they were,” I grumbled, but Jisung was more interested in talking about his contributions to the album. 

“It would mean a lot to me,” he managed after thoroughly explaining their newest concept. “You don’t even have to stay for the whole show.”

“I don’t know...”

“Minho and Felix are coming!” he quickly added, and I wondered if he knew that I would feel more comfortable with my brothers around.

“Okay,” I finally relented, groaning when he started jumping up and down on the couch like an overzealous puppy.

I rode to the club with Minho and Felix who were excitedly chattering about the impending concert while I looked out the window despondently. It felt like a huge risk to show up to the concert considering the recent events concerning my meetings with Chan and Changbin. However, I didn’t want my brothers to be suspicious, so I reluctantly followed them inside where we squeezed together around one of the tables in the middle of an enormous crowd.

The atmosphere was euphoric, draped in a haze of alcohol and the flashing neon lights decorating the stage. It was actually quite civil considering the fact that we were moments away from listening to loud music full of pounding bass and fast rapping. I was half-way convinced that the other guests had no idea what they were actually getting themselves into by coming here tonight.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an annoucement blared overheard, “please welcome, 3racha!”

The audience started clapping while a familiar melody began softly playing, and the fans around me started to cheer for the three shadowy figures who had suddenly walked onto the stage. “Let’s go!” Chan shouted, beginning his verse of the song which I now recognized as one of the tracks they had played for me at the studio. They were all wearing black, matching the tone and vibe of their music, playing through each track with an infectious energy. However, I was still unnerved because I noticed that they all managed to look at me at some point, even though the crowd, and I was starting to feel hot all over my entire body.

“They’re really good,” Felix remarked, and I nodded in return even though I was finding the table much more interesting.

“Thank you, 3racha!” an overhead announcement said and the audience were rising to their feet in synchrony to offer the artists a round of applause for their stage.

“Jisung sounded amazing!” Felix said as if he couldn’t resist the opportunity to brag about his friend.

“Maybe we can meet them backstage,” Minho suggested, and I halfheartedly protested when my brothers forced me to accompany them.

Subsequently, Minho forced Felix and I to wait by the stage for his friends because he was convinced that I really didn’t have an important project to complete before tomorrow. “You never do anything last minute, Y/N,” he said, smiling when he spotted Chan’s messy hair from the middle of the crowd.

“Hey!” Chan greeted him, accepting Minho’s failed attempt at a cool handshake. Changbin and Jisung followed him, and I couldn’t help but notice how the youngest had started to stumble on his feet. 

“You guys did great,” Minho said, talking extensively about his favorite performance while a sudden bombardment of alcohol hit my senses.

I instantly recoiled, covering my nose when the smell grew stronger. “How much did you drink, Jisung?”

“Not much,” the younger boy slurred, and I noticed that his eyes were distant.

“I’ll grab us more drinks,” Changbin said, giving me a familiar dark look before disappearing into the surrounding crowd.

“He’ll be fine,” Felix said, tossing an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “You deserve to celebrate tonight, man!”

I tugged on Minho’s sleeve to catch his attention, unwittingly drawing Chan’s gaze at the same time. “I think he’s drunk.”

Minho sighed, ready to launch into one of his world-famous lectures, when he was interrupted by the DJ onstage who confronted Chan. “Hey! We couldn’t find you after the show.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “I was out here the entire time.”

“Well, you need to pick up your CD backstage,” the DJ said. “The owners will throw it out tomorrow.”

“I’ll be right there,” Chan grumbled while glaring at the DJ.

“Now,” the man growled and Chan quietly excused himself with a brittle tone. Meanwhile, I had to help Felix with Jisung because his friend was starting to sway dangerously back and forth.

“He needs to go home,” I sighed, watching as Jisung leaned more of his weight against a much smaller Felix.

“I’d take him, but I already had two beers,” Minho said, looking at Felix expectantly.

“Me!” Felix whined. “But I want to stay.”

“He’s your friend,” I glowered.

“Alright,” Minho groaned. “Y/N, you haven’t had anything to drink and you’re way more responsible than Felix.”

It was easy to meet Minho’s stern gaze since this was the perfect opportunity to finally leave the club. “Fine, I’ll take Jisung home.”

“Then it’s settled,” he agreed, tossing me his spare set of car keys. “Take him to our place.”

“Okay,” I said, groaning when Felix helped Jisung wrap his arms around my shoulders and waist. The additional weight was burdensome, and I cursed Jisung under my breath as I helped him through the club to where the bouncer waited at the exit. “I’ll never let you forget this,” I hissed, waiting for the bouncer to open the door while I took one last look over my shoulder to check on my brothers. Instead, I found myself looking directly into Changbin’s dark eyes as he waited by the bar, a familiar smirk making him appear even more dangerous. I shivered in response before I slowly shuffled to the car with Jisung practically breathing down my neck.

When I finally managed to accompany Jisung inside my house, I unceremoniously deposited him on the couch, ignoring the way he groaned in complaint. “I’ll find you some medicine,” I said, searching through one of the side tables.

“It hurts,” Jisung whined, and I rolled my eyes after shoving a bottle of Aspirin in his direction.

“Remember that when you decide to be stupid again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping two pills into his hand before swallowing them eagerly.

I grimaced as I sat down next to him. “When did you start drinking?”

“Before the show,” Jisung said. “Changbin said it would help take the edge off.”

“Yeah? Do me a favor and don’t listen to him anymore,” I said, frowning when Jisung curled closer to my side. “What are you doing?”

“Tired,” he said, looking up at me with a smile. “You look beautiful.”

I scoffed, trying to push him away, but alcohol apparently made him bolder because he was suddenly twisting one leg around my hip to hold himself in place. “Jisung, you need to stop,” I said, gasping when he brought his lips against mine, kissing me with skill and a surprising amount of tongue. “We can’t do this!”

“Please,” Jisung whined, grinding his hips against my legs. “Just one night, Y/N?”

“Your drunk,” I said, which was only one of a dozen problems with the scenarios currently playing out right in front of my very eyes.

“I’m sober,” Jisung promised, frantically chasing my lips with eager kisses.

It was nothing short of desire, the way he was looking at me, while I watched our clothes end up in a pile around the couch as Jisung fumbled with the condom before I helped him roll it onto his erection. He groaned at the contact, and I moved my hand up and down his cock a few more times before directing him between my legs. Jisung slid inside with a messy exhale, and his arms trembled as they supported his body looming over mine with his delicate frame.

It was a pleasant contradiction because Chan’s thrusts had been nothing short of confident while Jisung’s inexperience showed in the frantic way his hips stuttered against mine. He tried to move faster, losing his previous rhythm, and his cock fell all the way out, erection sliding between my thighs instead. He whined pathetically, rutting against my legs for several moments before he re-adjusted himself deep inside. “Y/N,” he moaned.

“It’s okay,” I told him, petting my fingers along the crown of his head. “You’re doing so good.”

“I like you so much,” Jisung replied earnestly and my heart ached at his words.

He looked unbelievably sinful, eclipsing my body against his as I felt the fabric of the couch against my skin. The friction was delicious, and I focused on the way his cock felt, thrusts growing more and more assured as he finally found a way to please us both, thumb brushing across my clitoris. He was still kissing me, tongue moving across mine deliberately, and I was breathing harshly as I fought to control the rising heat building in my abdomen. It was an intense build-up to an orgasm that I could’ve never anticipated since Jisung was always Felix’s friend who I usually avoided. The same Jisung whose endless flirtations usually annoyed me, but something had changed the moment I looked into his eyes and saw the lust and desire coming together to create an intoxicating mixture.

It was suddenly impossible to ignore the way he made me feel and I felt him come deep inside with a stuttered moan. His hips moved harshly against mine, and I chased my release with a sensual grind of my hips until I was throwing my head back with a cry, groaning when his lips found the sensitive skin of my neck. “Jisung,” I murmured, watching him through a haze of darkness as he rolled over next to me with a moan.

I studied the way Jisung’s hair fanned out across the cushions, making him look angelic beneath the influence of the moon’s light breaking the barrier of the  curtains. It made me feel guilty, realizing that I had finally returned Jisung’s feelings only after my tumultuous affairs with Changbin and Chan. In fact, I was nothing more than the very girls I often mocked when they threw themselves at the most popular boys in school. I swallowed hard at the realization. “What have I done?”

[yuta-nakamots]

[11:36am] smile on my face - k.ji (established relationship!au, fluff) 0.5k

You looked up ahead down the road you were currently on, Kai’s reassuring hand on your thigh. The only difference was that he wasn’t the one driving, you were.

“So I’m supposed to turn left over there?” You just didn’t have the time to learn how to drive and get your license so finally, Kai, your longtime boyfriend, took it upon himself to teach you to drive.

“Turn left and head into the parking lot,” he confirmed, giving your thigh a comforting squeeze as you came upon the intersection. “Go forward just a little bit,” he advised, “yeah, keep going a little more, we have to let the other cars know we want to turn.”

When you finally saw an opening in the oncoming traffic, you took it and turned into the driveway of your old elementary school which was thankfully almost empty because you weren’t about to show off your terrible parking skills to a bunch of kids. “Where do you want me to park?”

Kai scanned around the lot before pointing over to the right at a stall with no other cars near it. “That one but reverse in.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, not really wanting to reverse when you could have pulled in easily but you followed his instructions, it was his car anyway. Once you got the car at the right angle to start reversing into the stall, Kai started giggling as you began looking back with an arm propped up against the seat, slowly navigating the car in. “What? What’s so funny?”

He shook his head, “here, do it like this.” He took hold of your arm that was awkwardly sandwiched between yourself and the backrest, moving it to hold onto his headrest.

“Oh, you like that?” You teased, glancing at him every so often as you kept going. By the time you had parked the car, Kai’s cheeks were so warm and pink, it almost looked like a sunburn.

“Thank you for taking me out today and for just helping me learn how to drive in general,” you told him, taking his hand in yours as you did so. “I can’t believe you actually trust me enough to drive your car.”

“Of course I trust you, we’ve been together for so long already,” he reasoned, “besides, I didn’t help you at all that time. You reversed into the stall perfectly all on your own.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘perfectly’,” you mumbled. Both of you opened the door and realized just how crooked the car was.

Kai burst out laughing, never failing to smack your shoulder when he laughed like this. “Looks like we still need more practice.”

happy birthday to our Jongin! I think it was just fate that I saw him all those years ago, that he inspired 7th grade me to dance. if little me saw how far I'd go and progress, she would be absolutely floored. and to think it was all because I saw Jongin dancing. he’s one of the kpop idols I treasure most since I know for a fact that I'd be nowhere near the person I am today if it weren’t for him and I want to sincerely thank him for that. anyways, here’s to hoping he had a great birthday and I wish him many more in the future <3

[carewyncromwell]

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, So we'll know where you are --  Gleaming in the skies above, Lead me to the one who loves me...”

~“The Second Star to the Right (cover),” by Simone

x~x~x~x

HEY PETER PAN ANON! I MADE YOU SOMETHING!! 8D

Hahaha, yes! This is Peter-Pan!Orion and Wendy!Carewyn (Carewyndy?). No, I won’t be writing this AU before the Tangled AU at least (and yes, I should have that up hopefully by next week)...but I couldn’t resist doodling these and talking a bit about the daydreaming I did based on this concept. Orion’s ripped pants were kind of based on how the pants are ripped in the 2003 Peter Pan’s costume, but I just couldn’t resist giving him his canon fingerless armwarmers. (I see them being forest green just like his pants, though, while his tunic is a light tan.)

Basically I see eternally 12-1/2-year old Orion Amari taking a strong liking to 10-year-old Carewyn Cromwell when she comes to Neverland. Even though she does act a bit too grown-up sometimes, it’s largely because of how deeply she feels for other people -- she’s determined to protect others, whether from bullying or actual danger, and she hates the thought of anyone feeling alone. She actually is the only person who’s ever asked Orion if he was lonely, being the only child who was destined to never grow up. And as much as Orion will airily state that “to die would be an awfully big adventure,” he finds that it’s Carewyn who believes this most, for the idea of growing older doesn’t frighten her the way it does her grandfather, the man now called Captain Hook. If anything, what makes her saddest about leaving Neverland is not for her sake, but for Orion’s -- she, Jacob, Charlie, and Bill were all going home to London, along with a good chunk of Orion’s friends among the Lost Kids...and Carewyn hated the thought that she’d never see her friend Orion again. So she reminded Orion that she would always have her window open at night, if he ever wanted to come and visit, hear her read a story or two, or even just listen to her singing while she did her evening chores. Sensing Orion’s hesitance, she reassured him that she’d never forget him. 

Orion proceeded to return to life in Neverland, embarking on those same old adventures that make the days blur and make it easy to forget things. Forgetting was part of Neverland’s magic -- even Bill had almost forgotten he had a new baby sister back in London, when he, Charlie, and Carewyn had been there with Orion and the Lost Kids. But, as Orion would often tell himself, adults forgot things in the other world too: they forgot the joys of childhood, they forgot the freedom and the simple pleasures and the bottomless daydreams. All of them, every last one of them, eventually forgot how to fly. 

But perhaps because of Carewyn’s final promise, every time Orion thought of how easy it was to forget things in Neverland, and therefore how easy it was to forget things outside of it, Carewyn’s face and words always returned to his mind. And so, the memory of her conviction and caring never strayed too far from his mind...and with it, other thoughts would crop up too. How stable things had been, when Carewyn was around. How well she understood him and how easy it was to talk to her and trust in her. And it was then that Orion realized that he really, truly missed Carewyn. It was a feeling he’d never really experienced that deeply before, not even for the other children who had eventually returned home to their families. Even Bill and Charlie, who Orion likewise grew reasonably fond of, didn’t make him feel like his stomach was always empty, no matter how much food he ate -- like his heart was scraping at the inside of his chest like a hungry animal desperate to devour something outside its cage. And that feeling only intensified when his fairy guardian Merula would try to urge him to go challenge Torvus and the centaurs to a race or splash around with the mermaids, even when Orion wasn’t in the mood to do so. 

Orion felt restless, unsure of quite what was wrong with him and not knowing how to explain his muddled thought process to McNully and his remaining Lost Kids. One day Orion was eventually persuaded by McNully to lead an expedition to find a lost chest of pirate treasure, and for a short while, the Boy Who Never Grew Up was simply able to enjoy pulling one over on his old enemy and sharing the loot with his gang. That changed, though, when Captain Hook crashed the party. 

Orion and Hook traded as many blows as ever, throwing insults at each other like they always did -- but this day, Hook said one barbed phrase that stuck in Orion’s ear more than he ever would’ve admitted.

“Already forgotten my dear Winnie, I see. But I guess I can’t be surprised. After all, the only thing that can break through Neverland’s curse -- that thing that makes everyone forget...is love. And you -- ha -- you don’t know anything about that, do you, boy?”

Love. Yes. That was the thing that made Carewyn remember her lost brother and mother, even while she was a Lost Girl. That was the thing that had made Charlie remember his parents, even after he’d forgotten London altogether. That was the thing that made Bill remember his other siblings, once he remembered how his baby sister Ginny would always cry after her afternoon nap until he came home from his newspaper route and bounced her up and down for a minute or two. That was the thing that had made Jacob remember his little sister in London, even after he was kidnapped by Hook and commandeered into piracy. And, Orion realized, it was the thing that he missed most about Carewyn -- her ability to love more deeply than anyone else he had ever known...like a mother would, and yet like an equal...a companion, more than just someone to go on adventures with. 

Orion tried to broach this topic with Merula, but the huffy little fairy put up her walls and stubbornly refused to let them down. Feelings were grown-up things, and Orion didn’t need grown-up things! Orion wanted to agree, but the feelings he felt were becoming heavy -- so heavy, in fact, that he found it harder for him to find his center, to think thoughts happy enough that he could fly to any height he wanted. He actually found himself hovering and floating more than flying...and this troubled him. It made him more anxious than he could remember ever being. 

Then the thought struck him -- why didn’t he just go and visit Carewyn? She said he could, whenever he wanted. She could tell him some stories and sing some songs for him -- maybe she could even sew him a new pocket for his shirt! These thoughts perked Orion up a bit, and he decided to leave for London straightaway. 

He hadn’t expected it to be so cold -- for you see, in Neverland, it’s every season all year ‘round, all except winter. It was a fact Carewyn had lamented, for winter was her favorite season. She loved the Christmas holidays and how everyone would gather around the fireplace with warm food together and sing Christmas songs and tell stories. It had actually sounded kind of nice to Orion, when she described it to him and the Lost Kids -- but on this day in London, Orion didn’t think the cold was so nice, nor the gray, dreary city itself. There were buildings that had been crushed and holes in cobblestone streets, made by bombs that had been dropped by German Zeppelins, and just about nobody raised their heads enough to look skyward. The adults prowling the streets were just as lacking of joy as Orion had always imagined them to be, yet it wasn’t due to stupid grown-up things like wearing a tie to work or paying bills. Instead there was exhaustion, sadness...pain. Orion hated these people’s wrinkles even more than the ones he’d see on the pirates’ faces, from dwelling on mindless things like how much treasure they had or what their daily duties were. 

But none of that mattered, of course. What mattered was seeing Carewyn. But alas, when Orion arrived at the Weasleys’ house, it was still daytime...and the window to the room Carewyn, Bill, and Charlie once shared was locked. 

Orion rattled at the window desperately, slapping the glass and pulling at its handles as he cried her name. All logic left his mind -- his breathing became raspier and weaker even as he shouted louder. 

She had to be there -- she had to be there -- she couldn’t have forgotten -- she wouldn’t have forgotten -- she promised -- she promised she wouldn’t forget him -- love was what kept someone from forgetting -- Carewyn knew love better than anyone -- she loved her brother -- she loved the Weasleys -- she loved the Lost Kids and Torvus and the mermaids and the fairies -- she loved Orion -- didn’t she love -- ?

As Orion’s anxiety spiked, the magic of Merula’s fairy dust began to abandon him. He found himself becoming heavier. He tried to cling onto the windowsill, pulling at and smacking the window, but it wasn’t wide enough for him to hold onto while it was closed. Soon enough he found himself falling slowly, like someone drifting down to the bottom of a pool...and when he landed on the ground, he landed on his knees, shaking. He clasped his hands together, his eyes wide and hollow upon the frosty ground as wintry condensation fell from his panting lips. 

He’d lost his happy thought. He’d lost it. 

He tried to fly. He tried desperately to fly, only to fall and scrape his knees and hands. Never in his life had Orion Amari ever been so frightened, shuddering from head to toe in the freezing cold. 

He shakily got to his bare feet and, barely knowing where he was going, he walked. He wandered aimlessly, his eyes glassing over as he gasped for air, searching every revolted and anxious face that he passed as the faces’ owners cringed at the state of his long hair, ripped clothes, and lack of shoes. 

Orion wandered for what felt like hours, until at long last, as if by fate, he ended up not far away from a Church-funded school, which taught both elementary and higher-elementary-level students. One of those such students was a girl with a ginger braid and almond-shaped blue eyes, walking home with several classmates, including a black-haired girl with glasses carrying a bunch of books, a rather pretty blonde with pigtail braids, and a rather cowardly-looking boy with blond hair, brown eyes, and a very thick sweater and mittens over his Church-provided uniform. The ginger-haired girl herself was wrapped up in a rather thick old dark blue blanket she’d turned into a shawl after it got ripped and had been holding it tightly around herself when, all of a sudden, she heard her name being cried by a misty, and yet anxious voice. 

“Carewyn! Carewyn...!”

One can only imagine what Carewyn’s school friends Rowan Khanna, Penny Haywood, and Ben Copper thought, seeing such a scrawny, ragamuffin street boy running toward their friend. Rowan actually tried to step in front of Carewyn as if to protect her, while Ben made as if to cling onto Carewyn’s arm in terror. But Carewyn herself, her eyes very wide upon the boy, immediately tore away from both Rowan and Ben and ran to Orion without a single shred of hesitation. 

“Orion?!”

She barreled over, whipping the shawl off her shoulders and wrapping it around his instead. 

“Orion, what are you doing here?! You’re going to catch a death of cold!”

Orion hadn’t been able to stop shaking for an instant, but her shouting his name, rushing to take care of him -- her remembering him -- it made his heart feel like a beast craving food again. Her concern wet his appetite. He wanted it. He wanted her caring. He wanted her love...

She was as tall as him. She’d been so tiny before...

“Carewyn...you know this boy?” asked Rowan, looking bewildered.

“Yes,” said Carewyn, glancing over her shoulder, “he’s a friend. Rowan, this is Orion. Orion, this is -- ”

“You’ve...grown older,” Orion’s absent mumble cut her off. 

Carewyn fixed him with a faintly reproachful look. “I’m afraid that does happen, in the span of three years...”

Thirteen. She was thirteen. ...She was older than him.

Carewyn’s eyes welled up with concern as she looked Orion over. She turned to her friends quickly. 

“...I’d better get him inside and warm...I’ll see you all tomorrow, okay?”

She quickly bid her friends goodbye, before wrapping an arm tightly around Orion’s shoulders as best she could, rubbing his arm through her shawl in an attempt to warm him. 

“Orion, what were you thinking?” she whispered, her voice full of concern as her eyes stayed locked ahead at their path. “Coming here in broad daylight, in this cold...”

Orion had started to shake again, his hands clasping more tightly. 

“Your window was shut,” he mumbled. 

Carewyn looked very upset. “...My old window, you mean? The one I shared with Bill and Charlie? Oh, Orion, I don’t share a room with Bill and Charlie anymore -- I share with Ginny now. Girls’ room, you know. Charlie and Percy actually share that room now...Bill’s sharing a flat with several other boys, closer to the newspaper’s headquarters in the East End...” 

Her eyes rippled with pain. 

“...Ginny’s and my room doesn’t have a window,” she explained. “I’ve told Charlie and Percy to keep their window open for me, but...well, Percy’s grown up way too fast. He must have closed it to block out the air raid sirens last night and forgotten to reopen it...”

Orion didn’t understand half of what Carewyn was saying, but the tone she spoke with held such reassurance and remorse that it soothed the racing anxiety that had so paralyzed him. He closed his eyes as the adrenaline his anxiety had built up ebbed away, leaving him oddly drained and colder than ever. He was so out of it that he barely seemed to acknowledge that his head flopped down onto her shoulder. 

“Orion?” said Carewyn, startled and worried. 

But Orion merely inhaled and exhaled slowly. Her caring fed that beast in his chest. He wanted a bit more. 

“Carewyn,” he murmured, “did...did you think of me?”

He felt Carewyn adjust her arm around him. 

“Of course I did,” she said softly. “I told you I would never forget you.”

The tenseness in Orion’s clasped hands and face loosened its grasp. “...Because you love me.”

Carewyn looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “What?”

But Orion barely reacted -- as if he didn’t think what he’d said was the least bit weird. 

“There’s only one thing that can prevent someone from forgetting...and that’s love. For once you love someone, your heart never really forgets them. Instead they become part of you...an indispensable piece...that would make you feel incomplete, if it was ever removed.”

Orion slowly opened his eyes, his lips spreading into a small, rather soft smile that made him look a bit more like his usual self. 

“...It’s what helped you remember your brother and the Weasleys, while you were with me...and your brother remember you, while he was with Hook,” he said. “It’s something I know nothing about...but I know you know it very well.”

Carewyn considered him for a moment, before returning her gaze back to the road. Plenty of people passing by gave her and Orion the side-eye, but she didn’t care. 

“I don’t know if I’d say you know nothing about it,” she said at last. “You remembered me just as much as I remembered you, did you not?”

Orion’s smile faded from his lips as his eyes widened ever-so-slightly. Then his expression slowly relaxed.

“...Perhaps...”

His black eyes trailed over her arm around his shoulders and her hand rubbing up and down his arm hesitantly. His arm beside her chest twitched slightly -- then, very, very tentatively, he tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders in return. It was a bit awkward, with the shawl wrapped around him...but once Carewyn sussed out what he was doing, she adjusted enough to give the shawl enough slack that he could successfully hold her in return. Once he had gotten his arm around her, he seemed oddly proud of himself, his smile spreading and his eyes closing again as he leaned into her, his head beside hers on her shoulder. 

They stayed that way for several blocks, walking in silence and simply enjoying each others’ company. Orion felt his center of balance returning to him. It was like having this stable place, with his arms wrapped around Carewyn’s shoulders and hers around his, was the earth he needed under his feet to launch himself back up into the air. He felt like he might even be able to fly again at some point...maybe not yet, but soon. Time always moved more slowly in Neverland than in London anyhow, so no one would mind if he took his time...

“...Carewyn?” 

“Hmm?”

“I...don’t know if I can make it back to Neverland,” he confessed. 

Carewyn looked at him, her eyes once again flooding with concern. 

“I fell, when I failed to open your window,” Orion explained. “I’ve only ever fallen like that once before...when...”

“...When Grandfather made you think unhappy thoughts,” Carewyn finished grimly. She turned away from him, facing the road again. 

Orion nodded. His black eyes flickered across her face, even though she was no longer looking at him. 

Hook had taunted him then that Carewyn had no reason to stay in Neverland -- that she preferred the thought of growing old and dying to staying with him -- that he could never meet her high standards. He’d taunted that one day, Orion would go back to find her window locked and barred -- a grown woman who’s forgotten all about him, about Neverland, about how to fly...who’s replaced all of it with adult things Orion could never understand. Ambition. Family. ...Husband. 

Carewyn wasn’t an adult yet, but she certainly wasn’t a child anymore either. There was a practicality to her posture -- a steadiness and gravity to how she walked. There was a neatness and meticulousness in how she handled her appearance. And yet even so, her hands were still so warm and her eyes were still so soft...and the sincerity in the little wrinkles that creased her brow and eyes and kissed at the corners of her lips was just the same. 

Carewyn raised her head in Orion’s direction, but her eyes couldn’t quite reach his. Instead they landed vaguely on his shoulder. 

“...I never told you...Grandfather was wrong, did I?” she asked quietly. 

Orion tilted his head. “...I suppose it depends on which thing he said that you’re thinking of. You did say you’d never forget me, or Neverland...or how to fly.”

“Yes,” said Carewyn, “but I didn’t say that he was wrong, that you’d never understand ambition or family. That’s definitely not true. Ambition isn’t just an adult thing -- you dream of never growing up, of never losing your freedom or your independence...your spirit. That’s a wonderful ambition. And you have a wonderful family too, in Neverland. The centaurs and mermaids -- Merula and the fairies -- the Lost Kids! You take care of them as if they were your family.”

Orion stared at her for a moment, his face very unreadable, but his black eyes rippling with a strange emotion. Then he curled his fingers into the puffy white sleeve of her shirt. 

“...And...the last thing?” he asked softly. “‘Husband?’”

Carewyn frowned deeply. “Is marriage something you even want to understand?”

“No!” said Orion instantly, looking revolted. “No...but...well...”

He swallowed, his own gaze drifting away. “...If you grow up...you’ll eventually want one, won’t you?”

Carewyn cocked her brows coolly. “It’s possible. But honestly, marriage seems like a bit of a bother. I’ve had to answer to plenty of adults in my life: I’d hate to have to answer to one more by choice. Especially if it means I have to give up Jacob, my friends, and my dreams just to make him comfortable.”

She said this so huffily, and yet it comforted Orion more than he could ever properly express. His own chest seemed to lighten and he felt better able to breathe again. His eyes softened upon Carewyn’s face. 

“...I see.”

The two finally reached the Weasley home again. Orion noticed the house across the street that Carewyn had once pointed out was hers and Jacob’s had been boarded up. 

“It’ll get torn down soon,” said Carewyn, noticing Orion’s gaze. “The family that lived there had their house ransacked, just because they were German...”

Her eyes narrowed. 

“...It’s disgusting, how they were treated,” she added to herself. “They were very nice to Jacob and me, when we first came home...”

“Where is your brother?” asked Orion. 

Carewyn deflated. 

“...The war front,” she said sadly. “He’d been saving up so we could move into our own place, but...well, the army needed soldiers, so both he and Mr. Weasley signed up. Mrs. Weasley let me stay here, so I wouldn’t have to struggle to find a place to stay myself.”

Orion felt something oddly like pity prickling at his chest. “You mean you’ve lost him again, after only just getting him back?”

Carewyn didn’t answer as she opened the door of the Weasley home and bustled him inside. Once the door was closed, she guided him over to the main room and into an armchair, wrapping several more blankets around him. 

“Wait here,” she said. Her lips spread into a fuller smile. “I’ll make you some hot cocoa -- that’s sure to help you fly again.”

Orion felt his heart give a somersault. 

“Do you remember?” he said very quickly, before she could leave the room. “...Do you remember how to fly?”

Carewyn beamed. 

“Of course. All you need is faith and trust, and to have been brushed with fairy dust. Then you think happy, wonderful thoughts, and...”

She spread her arms, and -- amazingly -- her feet actually came up off the ground.

Orion’s black eyes widened. Then his mouth slowly spread into the fullest, brightest smile as he found himself coming up off the ground himself. He floated just below her, spreading both of his arms too so as to take her hands and hold them out on either side of them.

Even when the world was so miserable -- even when she had so much reason to forget...Carewyn still knew how to fly. 

“You’re flying,” said Carewyn with a warm smile. 

Orion’s eyes sparkled as he guided her around in a circle, just as he had when they danced with the fairies. “I found a happy thought.”

“Did you? What is it?”

“A person whose company makes you feel stronger, when you’re at your worst.”

Carewyn smiled. “I believe that’s what’s called a ‘friend,’ Orion Amari.”

Orion’s midnight-black eyes gleamed.

Yes. A friend. Not just someone to go on adventures with, or look after, or play make-believe with, or give direction -- but someone to be your shoulder to lean on. To listen, to comfort...to love. That was a friend. As much as he cherished the Lost Kids, he was the one who had found them -- they answered to him, seeing him as leader, since there was supposedly no one else who could. 

This friend...he wanted this friend by his side forever. “Forever,” as Carewyn had once reminded him, was an awfully long time -- but he didn’t hesitate in this thought at all. 

And so, not long after, the Boy Who Never Grew Up returned to Neverland. He passed his mantle of leadership onto Lost Boy McNully, said a quick goodbye to all of the members of his Neverland family...and decided to leave for good. Even his short trip back to the Second Star to the Right took up a few weeks, but when he returned to London, his friend was waiting for him. And Orion and Carewyn grew up together, as close of friends as teenagers and later adults as they were as children. Orion grew more than just a fraction of an inch -- he soon towered a good head over Carewyn once more. He even grew a mustache, and a beard too! And yet even with this, it was never beneath his dignity to climb a tree, nor to engage in food fights, nor to read adventure books about pirates, nor to crow like a rooster upon winning a game. No matter how much his other classmates at school would frown, and no matter how much the adults would disdain and scold him, Orion never cared -- and neither did Carewyn, or Bill or Charlie, or any of the other friends he made over the years. 

So you see, even if Orion grew older, he never truly grew up...for all children grow up, except one. And one day -- many, many years down the road from when Orion first made the choice to stay -- he looked at Carewyn and realized that his first and dearest friend had become something even more precious: a friend he wished to love, cherish, and live beside far longer than forever. A friend he would call “lover.” 

[aprils-arcadia]

By the River

Member: Shownu Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1,9k Summary: You watch the sunrise from your favorite place in your hometown, when you are suddenly interrupted by a handsome stranger. 

She was sitting on the little concrete slope near the river. Once it was probably used to let boats into the water, but that had stopped even before she was born. Now it was just one of the nicest places to sit and think. With the river to her right and the embankment to her left she was surrounded by trees in this little nook.  

She used to come here quite often when she still lived nearby with her parents but by now she had moved into the city and the visits to her parents were less frequent than she was comfortable with. Work had taken up way too much of her life and driving home with public transport had always been a hassle. So over time the visits got rarer and rarer, making her miss this place and her parents even more. No matter where she went she always treasured this little fleck of earth in the town she grew up in and spent so many happy years of her childhood. Whenever she came back a smile always adorned her face no matter if it was snowing, bright sunshine, or raining like it just had a second ago.   

It had been a nice summer shower, washing away the dust and the dry heat. Unfortunately it was over before it even really began. Her clothes had already dried within the last few minutes but the remaining raindrops on the embankment still glistened in the now returned sun. 

This wasn’t a famous tourist spot or a hotspot of the local youth, no this was her secret spot. The spot she spent so many hours as a kid, talking to her friends or just being alone with her thoughts. In this little niche beside the river she had her privacy. If she wanted to cry nobody would notice and if she laughed nobody would care. 

It had been the right choice to take the week off, to get away from work and to spend her little vacation here, right where she would always belong. The week housesitting for her parents brought back so many memories, memories that were still ever present in the house itself, be it the old photobooks in her dad’s office or the big framed picture depicting all her family members, her uncles, her cousins and she herself: A young girl forced to wear a dress to look pretty but her hair the usual unkempt mess. She was sitting next to her mom and desperately tried to hide a patched-up finger behind her back but the white bandages still shone brightly next to her dark blue dress.

She stretched her arms into the air and a yawn escaped her mouth. It had been worth getting up at 5 a.m., seeing the sun rise over the horizon, colouring the sky in a bright orange was a sight that was worth every minute of lost sleep. She probably should go back to get ready for the day but not yet, instead she rolled her jacket into a little pillow and layed down on the hard concrete, the tiny stones hurting her back a little but not enough to make her want to leave. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. The earthy smell of petrichor and the fresh scent of the river filled her lungs and she smiled to herself. 

She truly loved this place. 

The sound of the steady waves lapping on to the shore whenever a boat went past, the screeching of the lone seagull that had made its way down south and the rustling of the wind in the leaves around her lulled her into a comfortable nothingness.

Her reverie was interrupted by an unfamiliar smell and the sound of the dry grass being crunched under someone’s feet. Lazily she opened her eyes only to look up at a young man around her age. 

"Oh I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you.” He took a step back. “I'd better leave". 

"No worries." She sat up and turned around to look at him properly. He was wearing a pair of black running shorts and a black sleeveless top. His hair was disheveled and still wet either from the rain or from the sweat that was also running down his arms making them shimmer in the morning sun. “I wasn't really sleeping and I should probably leave soon anyway."

"I didn't mean to drive you away. It's not like I own the place." He shrugged his shoulders and smiled shyly. 

"True" she giggled. He looked kind and trusting. His eyes radiated a calm and warm aura that made her feel instantly comfortable around him. "Do you wanna sit down?"

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind." He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, so that it no longer stuck to his forehead but now lay in strands. 

She scooted over and gestured at him to sit down. "Not at all. There’s plenty of room for the both of us." 

He sat down next to her, adjusting a bit so that their shoulders would be far enough apart.

"I'm sorry that this is gonna sound like one of those cheesy pick up lines but do you come here often?" A sweet laugh left her mouth, as warm as the summer sun. "Cheesy doesn't necessarily mean bad, I mean that one's a classic.” 

"No,” He corrected quickly “I just meant that I've never seen you around here." 

"I used to live here when I was younger,” She brushed off the sand from her calves and unfolded her little jacket pillow. “Now I'm just housesitting. What about you?" She looked into his eyes as if it was the most natural thing, somehow awkwardness never crossed her mind.

"I've discovered this place on one of my morning runs.” He leaned forward to tighten the knot on his bright blue sneakers. "And now I always stop by here each morning when I'm done."

"Commendable" 

"If you say so.” He smiled at her, his face losing all its rough features instantly. “I just really like this place.” His gaze wandered over to the water that was slowly receding only to be pushed back onto the shore. "It's nice to just sit, watch the waves and just be for a second."

"I agree.” she said. “Nobody really bothers you, well normally at least." She scrunched up her nose and they both laughed.   

“Yeah, sorry about that.” he apologized, still smiling brightly.

“Soo…” she leaned back examining his broad back and shoulders trying to read the letters that were printed on his shirt. “Sho-”

“-Shownu.” he finished. 

“So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Shownu? I mean there isn't really anything here.” Her hometown had always been a place for old people, sure they had an elementary school but that was about it. The local businesses were slowly moving to the city and apart from one big company, a few bakers and supermarkets it was pretty much just a residential area. No nightlife, on the contrary even, this neck of the woods still clung to their night and sunday rest rules so tightly that loud music after 10 p.m. could easily be answered by the old lady two houses over calling the police on you. The cinema in the nearest town had gone bankrupt and you had to drive half an hour by bus to even get to a decent clothing store. It was no wonder that everyone moved to the city when they finally got the chance.  

"Well, I got seconded here a few months back. I work over there.” He pointed to the big building visible on the horizon on the other side of the river. “I found a nice flat on this side so I just took it. The ferry isn’t that bad of a commute”

“I loved to ride the ferry as a kid.” She said enthusiastically, remembering all the times she went over to the other side to go to the beach or to walk around with her friends and their dogs.  

“Well it gets old rather quickly I can tell you. But the water and the fresh air is a nice wake up on an early morning.” He leaned back steading himself on his hands. 

“And how do you like it here so far?” she asked, playing around with the little blade of grass she had plucked to her right. 

“To be honest, in the beginning it was quite the change. I grew up in a big city and was always so used to the bustle on the streets and the huge amount of people. This is the complete opposite. I mean I once went a day without seeing another human soul on the streets. It had quite the apocalyptic vibe.” He laughed. 

“It probably just meant that the local football team was playing.” She shrugged. Those had been the best days, when almost everyone was out and no one roamed the streets anymore. As a child she used those days to play badminton in the streets with her brother or go for a walk without ever meeting anyone. It was a nice change of pace each time. 

“That makes sense. Anyway it’s actually really nice to live here.”

“Why is that? I mean I know my reason but I’d like to hear yours.” The blade of grass in her hand was now a tiny ball of knots. She put it down beside her and gave it a little flick, watching it roll down the concrete and into the water. 

“I think it’s quite idyllic. When I lived in the city everything seemed so cold, distant and impersonal. In comparison this place feels unbelievably warm. This is probably gonna sound stupid but it feels loved”

She didn’t answer. Instead she just looked at his profile, at the kindness in his eyes and let his words slowly sink in. This place feels loved. To hear someone else say this made her incredibly happy. 

“Sorry that was a bit weird.” he said sitting back up, looking at her. 

“No, not at all.” She let her head sink between her knees looking out onto the shoreline and the line of grasses which gently swayed in the wind.

“I’m really telling you everything here, huh” he chuckled a little shyly and rubbed the back of his head. 

“Sure seemed that way.” she smiled. 

“Must be this place, makes it way too easy to open up to a complete stranger. Well now you owe me one. What brought you back here?”

“Since we are already on the sappy side of things I can just hop onto the train.” She took a deep breath and sighed “I miss this place. It makes life seem so simple and easy. I can forget about work and the stress of the city when I come here.” She smiled, more to herself that to anybody and her eyes were clouded with nostalgia. “In the end it’s home, simple as that.” 

Without warning a loud ringing tone interrupted their conversation. “Oh sh*t.” Shownu got up, quickly turning off the alarm on his phone. “I’m sorry to just leave like this.”

“Nah it’s fine. Wouldn’t want you to be late for work. I better get going as well.” She got up and wrapped her jacket around her hips.

“Hope to see you again soon” he said and sprinted off. 

Me too, she thought. Maybe just now she found another reason to come back here more often. 

[ackb]

When I was young we lived in a two bedroom house half a block from my elementary school. A small brown house with a tiny green lawn and a one-car garage. There was a plum cherry tree by the fence on the far side of the little back yard and I could see it from the window of my bedroom. I can still feel the sensation of reaching up to pick a cherry and tugging down the whole branch, feathered with maroon leaves, only to let go and see it fly back up and right itself. 

When I was eight years old, my parents sold the house. We piled boxes in the car and drove across town, where Mom and I moved into the back bedroom of her sister’s family’s house. Having displaced my cousin into a room with his brother, we had little twin beds like the ones in old 50s sitcoms, though usually I’d fall asleep alone since Mom worked nights. A long three months passed, until Dad finally found work in Seattle and we packed up the car again to go north to join him.

For reasons I've never understood, those months, plus the few we lived in Seattle, formed a kind of swirling vortex into which all my childhood memories spin. If I'm telling a story about being a kid, it's practically a given that it's set in 1982.

Sometimes, during those first three months, when I was feeling homesick, I’d go out to the garage, where there was a stack of boxes from our house and I’d dig around until I found something from my room. A stuffed animal, sometimes, but usually a Star Wars action figure. My cousins had every Star Wars toy imaginable and we played with them all often. But I had my own little collection of figures too. My prized possessions. 

I didn't know then why my heart beat so fast whenever Princess Leia was onscreen. But wow. There's a moment when she's resting on her side, propped up on her right arm, and she moves her left to rest against the hill of her hip. Queer 80s kids—you know what I'm talking about. That moment replayed in my mind like a skipping record, wearing a groove into my eight-year-old heart. I felt a longing that I thought meant I wanted to be Leia. This unreadable childish lust vined and twisted around the real impossible longing: escape. I wanted so deeply to be rescued. So playtime was Star Wars and I was Leia. Always. 

We moved back from Seattle after just a couple of months. Everyone was angry that year. We lived with my aunt for just-one-more month—-like a warped, prescient Groundhog's Day--before finding a little apartment a few blocks over. Escape. But at some point along the escape route, a lot of what was in those boxes from the garage went missing. It was as if our lives that year were carried forward in a big leaky bucket, sloshing, dripping. My Star Wars toys were gone. A lot of things were gone. 

But I grew up anyway. Sixteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-Two, settled into my own rental house, swimming through busy days of school and work alongside a Beloved I cherished. Things that were gone followed me everywhere, and I worked and worked to stay hidden from them. I didn't know then that it wasn't about the Star Wars toys and so I became a collector. 

In those days I headed to work at 5pm in black pants and a white button-up, with a neon green plastic bowtie. I had been shoveling popcorn and selling tickets through a little hole in the bottom of a plexiglass cell for three years when Star Wars roared back into theaters and the job was suddenly fun. Everyone on staff was a big fan. We'd drive through Taco Bell on breaks to score kids meals with Star Wars toys. Figures rushed back into stores like they were making a Kessel run. Big chunks of paychecks fell off into the sea of salve for my broken hearted inner eight-year-old. I bought everything. I pinned action figure boxes to the walls of my office until I was surrounded by them. The bookshelves that had dominated the room found themselves clothed in the green, yellow, and black boxes of vehicles and accessories and stationery and lunchboxes. 

A photo of me survives from those days, clutching my newest purchase, eyes wild and joyous. I am absolutely surrounded by Star Wars Stuff (as I called it then and now) as if posing from a crowded museum gallery. I am thin in the photo, practically buried in the stuff, only half there at all. 

The next time we moved, it was my idea. We moved so that I could pursue a brand-new dream. Not so different than my dad, I think to myself now, though my failure took longer and cost more than his. I lovingly packed up my treasures. They slept. Then another move. And another. Then a cross-country move. Then a cross-town one. The treasures rested in their boxes in my office closet until it became the nursery closet, then, when the twins separated into two rooms, just my son's closet. Resting. I didn't need them anymore. They were memories, translucent. 

Something has tipped, gone over. I open the box. It's filled with another life, a crowded need I barely recognize. I take item after item out of the box and cannot help but laugh at myself. Who was this person? Oh, I remember now. The wounds. The narrow escape. The secrets. The missing persons. The crumbling foundation. The band-aids and the longing. I want to hug that small person. I want to lay her down in a nest of my daughter's blankets, pull up the cover to her small chin and turn on the machine that makes stars circle on the ceiling. I want to bring that young woman a cup of tea and sit with her at the kitchen table, gesture out the back window to the trees. Look. 

Once upon a time I thought I needed to replace things, to take control, to buy and to stuff myself up, to assuage the longing. Maybe I did. But I also needed to box it all up. To build a stronger structure around it, to allow a skin to form that can look like the real me, the whole me. 

And now, with the box open, packages all over the bed, one more stop. I post a photo to facebook. Anyone out there still love Star Wars? An acquaintance from high school messages me. I tell him what I have. One thing prompts three exclamation points in his response. "That's the one figure that was lost during our move!" He sends me a video of his sons opening the box. Joy. Tears. Repair. 

A circle closing.

[uwua3]

hi! first off, congrats on the new blog!! i read that misumi piece and i really enjoyed it hehe,, if it's alright, may i request some domestic fluff with kazunari? mayb looking over old photo albums of each other from when they were kids and laughing and telling stories about what happened in the photos? thank you very much and i hope u have a nice day :D

hi!!! this made me so happy 🥺 thank you so much, i hope to keep this blog running for a long time! also, i saw your reblog of my jealousy hcs and i wanted to say thank you for your sweet comments!!! i go back to it whenever i need motivation, you inspire me to keep writing ♡ thank you! i hope to continue making you proud as a writer :D <3

summary: kazunari had to stop living in the past and make new memories outside of his yearbooks with you

author’s note: this is definitely a much happier piece than my others! this was refreshing to write and i treasure it dearly, it’s definitely much more on the humorous side! no angst today, folks!!! (ok just a little, but it’s barely noticeable!)

this is just a little look into a hoarder named kazunari and his sentimental, nostalgic personality ♡ i, myself, am a marie kondo supporter so i love decluttering! if you are a hoarder like kazunari, honestly go you! you keep those knick knacks that remind you of memories! do whatever makes you the happiest :D

word count: 2,151

music: make you mine – public, tongue tied – grouplove (this song is so Kazunari !!!)

nostalgia.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was that time of year again

kazunari hated spring cleaning with a passion. so what if his art supplies were all over the dorms? he knew where everything was! uh, mostly...

(if you ignore his daily panicked house searches which kept everyone up way too late if he couldn’t locate a very specific paint shade for a big project he definitely procrastinated)

so, it took, so much bribery to get kazunari to even consider cleaning out his entire dorm room

(muku was a very Good Boy and already had his side of the room perfectly dusted and organized)

yes, you had to promise to pose as a model for one of his paintings one day (hopefully, not the type of class you were thinking) (kazunari’s suggestive wink didn’t help)

the thing about kazunari was he was somewhat of a, putting it politely, hoarder

as an extremely sentimental person, it would take the whole mankai company to even force him to throw something away

(“no! it has a special meaning to me! i remember what happened when i got this~” kazunari would whine, holding the useless item between his hands with no intentions to ever look at it again)

so the boys employed you to be kazunari’s rational judgement when cleaning that day

(“please actually make him do something.” sakyo looked like he was on the border of begging; kazunari’s abundance of random knick knacks and shopaholic addiction problem was becoming an issue that affected everyone)

rule #1 of cleaning kazunari’s storage room: don’t open anything because kazunari will become very sentimental and nothing will get gone

so therefore, as a team, you two tackled the rather spotless room. the interior was minimal and modern, just like kazunari liked it with pops of color here and there

(he had one blank white wall and you realized it was the backdrop he used to film all his social media posts [dancing tik toks, fashion #ootds on instagram, daily vlogs on his growing youtube channel])

at first, you were confused where all his stuff went until you opened a closet against his terrible and unconvincing distractions

without time to react, you found yourself buried in tens of books you couldn’t even fathom how it all fit

(“i’ve played way too much tetris.” kazunari would admit later on when asked about his immaculate stacking)

“you’ve got to be kidding me!” you groaned, pushing your head above the surface of book covers that have either never been opened or were way too old to even be functionable

“i’m sorry~ please, forgive me!” kazunari pleaded, immediately pulling you out of his own mess and using all his cuteness to make you roll your eyes fondly at your best friend

you almost started ranting at him about the dangers of taking up too much closet space with useless items before you realized:

wait! stop! he’s trying to get you to forget about throwing these books out! you thought suddenly, crossing your arms as you stared at the pile, trying to figure out how to approach the situation

“you cannot distract me. we are going through this mound and you will be getting rid of something today.” you ordered, seeing his shoulders drop in defeat as he nodded solemnly, but accepting his fate without any arguments. thank god for that

you two bent down and organized all the books into categories. popular photography instruction guides, creative advice columns, and all his past art textbooks kazunari couldn’t sell were put into a seperate group because luckily, they were relevant to his art school

things like old newspapers with funny comics were recycled (you refused to let kazunari read them in fear of invoking some form of nostalgia) (also because he had the whackiest sense of humor ever and would die laughing)

it was going well, until you reached the thickest photo books of them all (you had almost forgotten what you and kazunari’s school mascot was)

but unsurprisingly, kazunari had every single yearbook from each year of his education all the way until his last year in high school piled high to his chest

even he looked somewhat shocked from his mass accumulation from his teen years

“ah! i’m so old now~ look at all this! what else can i do except die?!” kazunari dramatically flopped onto his bed, tired of lifting so much weight. hey! his arms weren’t meant for exercise, he was a painter!

lifting his head to see you were distracted from alphabetically sorting the first section lovingly dubbed, “art shit”, kazunari mischeviously grinned as he leaned down to snatch a random yearbook

flipping to a random page, kazunari smiled as he realized it was the first time he ever met you back in elementary

kazunari sang your name as he sat upwards, having a shit–eating look on his face as he started swinging his legs back and forth

oh no, he was up to something no good, you knew it but humored him anyways

“yes, kazu?” you turned your line of sight to the most horrible picture possible: you with the ugliest haircut in the entire world with kazunari’s black hair taking up the entire photo as you two sheepishly smiled for the camera. it was not a proud moment

okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, you just couldn’t help but shriek at the sight of your hair

“oh my god! you can’t just jumpscare me like that!” you laughed despite yourself. you knew you had to be serious and focused on decluttering, but one look at your past made you remember all the good times before so–called “adulthood”

“look at your hair!” you cackled, reaching up to playfully yank at his mullet as he yelped and lightly smacked your hand away. rubbing the back of his neck, kazunari huffed childishly and pouted like he was back in his youth

“come on! this was the pinnacle moment i realized, i should not be a hair dresser.” kazunari commented, making you remember how you just let a random 8–year–old boy waddle up to you with safety scissors and advertise his salon business like a professional

(yes, you bought into it right away. your teacher had a heart attack when she saw you with a majority of your hair on the floor and kazunari keeping small talk like an actual hair stylist)

thinking back after the haircut incident, you weren’t allowed to chat with the funny class clown anymore as you were forced to wear a hat every day

(it was either that or go completely bald to fix the job kazunari did to your head)

it wasn’t until you received a very creative and colorful apology letter with tons of sad faces drawn with waxy crayons that you snuck out to play with him on the swings in recess

“i can’t believe we became friends because i wanted free hair cuts for the rest of my life.” you added, staring at the picture with a sense of nostalgia. you kinda got where kazunari was coming from, memories were fun to look at every once and a while

at least, eleven years worth of memories after being inseperable from that moment forward

(maybe, you should’ve held onto it, you thought, not knowing that would be the first of many art pieces you would be gifted by him)

kazunari knew he won. excited, he dropped down to lay on his stomach as you leaned against the bed, watching as he thumbed through the pages with ease, leaning his head on yours comfortably

it was rare to find kazunari quiet, he must’ve been like this all the time when going through his stuff, you thought, at peace for once

lazily smiling, kazunari put his finger against your yearbook pictures as he reminisced on the past. something about everyone ever in your grade, how kazunari knew everyone and had a special memory with each person, no matter how big or small

“—and here, the teacher somehow caught a pic of us swinging wayyy too high for kids our age!” kazunari laughed, breaking your train of thought as you snickered at the absolute joy radiating from both your faces as you two competed to see who could reach the clouds

(kazu won. you fell off right after and had to get picked up from your parents after badly scraping your knee. it took another sorry letter and art of you two holding hands with a heart for your parents to forgive kazunari)

“let’s go back.” you interrupted him, making him sit up confused as you swung your keys out from your back pocket. it didn’t take any convincing for kazunari to nod right away and took the elementary yearbook into his arm

you two only had to exchange a secret look before formulating a plan to sneak out, leaving music on from kazunari’s speakers to act like kazunari was still cleaning

you two giggled amongst yourselves before clambering into your car, speeding off and laughing loudly from your successful getaway. the manager was none the wiser!

during the short car ride, you and kazunari played your favorite mixtape of all time

(“you kept this?!” kazunari yelled, giddily bouncing up and down from excitement when he discovered the mixtape stash)

he slipped the disc in as you two yelled along to childhood favorites with the windows rolled down, letting the entire neighborhood know the best duo were back in town

(seriously, there were so many you stashed away in your glove department. all labeled in sharpie with compelling titles connected to the inside jokes only you two found funny)

arriving at the destination, you two exited the vehicle to see the play pen was abandoned as the teaching staff went home for the day

the sun was setting and it felt like the playground was in another rift of time as you approached it, hearing the weak movement of the swings going back and forth on their own. you sat down, holding onto the chains. you hadn’t been back ever since you graduated. it hadn’t changed at all

kazunari opened the elementary yearbook back to the original page, pulling out his tripod and phone he always had on hand in his backpack as he set it up right across the swing set

“what are you doing?” you inquired, tilting your head as he fumbled around pressing different buttons and filters too complex for you to remember

looking up, kazunari grinned as he set a timer for 10 seconds before sprinting back to the swing next to you

“swing contest right now! i bet i could swing higher than you ever could!” kazunari challenged childishly, quickly kicking his legs for the momentum. you narrowed your eyes, refusing to lose as you two laughed over the sound of his phone taking a burst of photos

you realized what he was doing. he was re–creating your memories together

but you turned to look at him and your heart skipped a beat. you never remembered him looking this, different, in the purple lighting. for a flashing moment, you swore you saw the silhoutte of his black–haired, child self sit next to you before you blinked and saw him. kazunari was the same, just older now

you slowed down your swing by dragging your sneakers against the wood chipped ground. you grabbed both the swings’ chains to hold them together

you didn’t want to live in the past anymore. you wanted to grow up with him, too

“what—” kazunari started, matching your pace before being cut off by your lips against his, the phone going off for one last time

you pulled yourself in close enough just to smile. he smelled the exact same as he did when he discovered cologne for the first time. he never changed

you pulled away first even if he tried leaning forward for more, like he was waiting all these years just for that one moment. like he saw you in the same light, too

“i wanted to do that for years.” you confessed, watching as he took your hand carefully, like he was afraid you were going to leave. for once, he didn’t know what to do, which face to show

“me too...” kazunari agreed, seemingly speechless before straightening his back, like he was about to run away. the hair on your neck stood up, what was he about to do?

“i promise i won’t cut your hair anymore, unless?” kazunari winked dramatically, mimicking the shape of scissors with his fingers as he tried snipping at your hair

he laughed as you shoved him with all your might, hopping off the swing to chase him throughout the school parking lot

now this was a memory kazunari would never throw away, no matter what

(no one thought the two of you escaped until kazunari posted the pics on his instagram, both of you getting a scolding from sakyo this time)

(busted!)

[allie1804-fan]

The Middle of the Road (Chapter 16)

Chapter 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8 , 9, 10, 11 , 12,  13  14 , 15

Warnings: None

September 2024 – Toronto Emily and Keanu flopped down on the bed in their room at the apartment they were renting in Toronto for the week of The Toronto International Film Festival. They had just arrived from LA and were travel weary. He had just had his 60th birthday and would be receiving a Tribute award at the festival, a great honour for any film maker but an especially treasured one for Keanu who had grown up in the city. He remembered when the festival used to take place in his neighbourhood of Yorkville in the late 70s so the whole event was very close to his heart.

The whole family had decamped from LA including their Nanny Maria which would enable them to attend the evening events as well as do some promotion.  Keanu had done voice work in a film being premiered there which had a U certificate so they would all attend the afternoon screening. They were taking a bit of a risk with Hannah but Emily or the nanny would be able to take her or Johnny out if either of them got unsettled.

 After they had rested up a bit, they all went out to a local Italian restaurant around the corner from the apartment and enjoyed a simple relatively quick meal before getting the babies back home to bed.  The next morning found Keanu and Emily enjoying some free time looking around his old haunts – he’d shown her his home in Yorkville, his elementary  school, ice hockey stadium, the Leah Poslun Theatre and the location of his first kiss!

 “Right there?”? Emily was pointing with an aghast expression on her face at a dingy alley behind a bike rack at the back of an old Walgreens store.

 “Yup – I know. I’ve got a bit classier in my old age I hope you agree.”

 “And what was her name?”

 “Angela”

 “Now THAT is a 70s name if ever I heard one. I guess at least your name is just totally unique and not linked to an era like some”

 “She was sweet – but not long lasting!”  Anyway, I think that is the complete high, and low, lights for you. We better get back and get  some lunch before this afternoon’s shenanigans”  He was referring to the premiere of his film which was an afternoon affair so kids could attend. Some local children would attend as well as press and the stars and their families. Johnny and Hannah would be there – with the exit strategy of mum or nanny if it was too much. They had watched films at home and had quite good attention spans but Hannah had only been in a movie theatre once and so was a bit if an unknown quantity behaviour wise.

It was also to be their first red carpet as a family. They had kept the children well shielded so far but, accepting that  complete privacy wasn’t realistic, they had decided to attend this premiere all together. They all dressed in smart casual clothes rather than the suits and ballgown style of Oscars and that was needed given they would have the kids next to them snacking on ice cream! The press and fans were enthralled with the kids, both dark haired and with big brown eyes strongly favouring Keanu but with the delicacy of Emily’s features. After letting her walk on wobbly legs for a little while, Keanu scooped Hannah up and carried her while Emily walked with Jonathan and Marie brought the buggy and a change bag just in case. Hannah loved waving at everyone and fans called her name which made her laugh. Johnny joined in with waving too, sensing that this was something special but not really at all clear what. It was going to be a while before they understood that their Dad wasn’t just special to them!

The kids enjoyed the film and made it through the whole hour and half without a melt down to everyone’s relief.

That evening Emily and Keanu appeared on a panel about a project they were working on together. There were inevitable questions about how husband and wife could work together which they fended off deftly  - working together was after-all how they met and it felt easy compared to parenting and they were glad to keep the topic work focussed.  In the next couple of days they each took part in other promo for their work and had a meal out, just the two of them.  There they talked about the award show that would be the following night.

                                                            “You nervous?” Emily asked as she sipped her coffee.

“Am I ever!” He groaned. “All that intention is intense – I’m used to parts of it – the red carpet, the photos, being filmed in the audience, even being on stage handing out awards or receiving a less significant gong but such focus, and a speech – phew, it’s crazy”

“It’s what you deserve honey, you know that inside don’t you”

 He shook his head,

 “It’s an honour, such an honour but, no,  I don’t know it – it just feels surreal”

 “Well just try to enjoy it if you can, hun – OK?, Want to run through the speech back at the apartment?”

 “Sure, that would be great to have a writer’s input”

 The award day came and they passed as much of it as they could focussing on the kids, taking them to one of the lakeside beaches for playtime and a picnic but eventually time came for the ‘dressing up game’  as Keanu called it. Both of them would spend a few hours being “made beautiful” for the cameras with stylists primping and polishing their hair, clothes and make up to within an inch of their lives. They left the children with Maria and they would tune in later to see Mommy and Daddy on the TV walking the red carpet.

Emily was wearing a stunning sleeveless, full length taffeta gown in red and her birthday necklace to match her ruby engagement ring and Keanu was in the tux he’d worn to the 2020 Oscars.  Emily’s palms were sweaty even before they left to go to the theatre. She’d attended public occasions before where there were paparazzi but only one awards show about 4 years ago so she was nervous of the attention, especially as the news of their marriage was still quite fresh.

As they climbed out of the car, Keanu whispered in her ear  “Just imagine everyone naked”  before they started to make their way up the red carpet, making her giggle and relax just a little.

“I feel like the wives in Apollo 13, if they ask me anything. I’ll just say “I’m proud, happy and thrilled”

“Are you likening me getting an award to going to the moon or a life-threatening mission?!”

“the former for you and maybe the latter for me!”

At first she held Keanu’s arm in a death grip but gradually she relaxed especially as she saw the smiling faces in the crowd and she saw Keanu relax too, signing photos, DVDs and books and posing for photos. Several fans encouraged her to pose alongside him, surprising her.  It seemed some people were happy to see him happy with his marriage and kids and thus welcomed her with open arms.

There were a few reporters on the red carpet who stopped them for a few words. Keanu made her laugh, though she tried to hold it in, when he responded to the question of how he was feeling to be receiving the Tribute Award.

“Well I’m proud, happy and thrilled” he said, giving Emily a wink which made the laughter bubble to the surface. They moved on and at last made it into the auditorium and were shown to their seats.

There were several other awards before his but at last it was time for his big moment.

The presentation started with a show reel with clips from his most famous movies as well as some of his lesser known early ones which made him blush. He leaned over and whispered to Emily

“At least they’re not showing the Coke and cornflakes ads!”

After the reel, there were some video clips from some of his directors and co-stars praising – his work, his character and his work ethic. There was Chad Stahelski, Sandy Bullock, Carrie-Ann Moss and Lilly Wachowski. Then it was time for the award  itself which Lana Wachowski presented. As he walked up to the stage, the whole auditorium stood, clapping and cheering. He was right, Emily thought, this was really overwhelming! She dabbed a tear away as he took his place at the podium and took a moment to let the applause fade.

“Firstly let me say a huge thank you for this great, great honour  - to receive this in the city where I spent my formative years is really very special so thank you.”

More applause erupted then quickly subsided allowing him to continue.

“I owe this award to many other people  - first and foremost,  I’d like to pay tribute to my mom for believing in me all those years ago when I asked her one day, would it be ok if I was an actor and  she simply said ‘whatever you want son’.

And thanks must also go of course to the teachers and directors at the schools where I did plays and at the Leah Posluns Theatre where I really began to learn my craft-  thank you for lighting the fire.

Looking back, the reel you showed just now only served to remind me how much I love movies. And a key reason over the years for that love and indeed for much of my success has been the joy of collaboration when making them. Collaboration with many wonderful directors, actors, cinematographers, stunt coordinators, make-up artists, caterers, runners to name but a few is what I thrive on. And they have all made me look good.  And I know sometimes I’ve made my fellow actors look good too by how bad I was! Special thanks to Winona and Gary in that regard!

And I can’t forget the writers, for one thing my wife would never forgive me if I didn’t give them a mention.”

Keanu looked over and caught Emily’s eye as she sat in the front row beaning with pride.

“Writers have gifted me some amazing, memorable characters, some of them coming back time and again  like Ted, Neo and John Wick.  And I think special thanks are due for all the Johns, Johnny’s and Jacks and the quarterback punks that have been a recurring theme for me and such fun to play.

So I love movies and I love the opportunity they give me to tell stories.

But this year, as I hit a big milestone birthday,  I am in a new phase in my life and I’m planning on being focussed less on the stories in films and more on my own story.  Over the years, my fellow actors and the crews have been like family to me, a band of brothers and sisters if you will.  But 5 years ago I met and fell in love with a wonderful woman and she became my family.  Then 2 years ago we became parents - and now there are 4 of us. And this year  I also became a husband - in all these things as you can probably tell I was a late starter!

So whilst I’m not retiring,  going forward I can’t and I don’t want to be the man who  is all work and no play.  I want to be with my beautiful  wife and my kids as they grow and play my part in guiding them in their lives, in their story.

And hopefully, I’ll bring the riches of that experience of being a parent and a husband to my future roles.

Thank you”

There was rapturous applause at this end to his speech and Emily found herself crying once again at his very public commitment to a more balanced life for them all going forward.

Keanu took his leave, heading back stage where there would be a few interviews to do before he could re-join Emily and head onto the after-party.  There was a brief break in proceedings and Emily made her way back stage to meet up with him.

Keanu was just taking his leave from one of the news teams  when he glimpsed Emily weaving her way between the throngs of stage hands, actors and publicists.

He headed in her direction and indicated a small alcove to the side to aim for. She reached it first and waited for him to join her, his progress being slowed by people stopping to congratulate him on his award and speech. When he finally got there, she threw he arms around his neck.

“That was, just, just”

“Wow  have I actually rendered you speechless?” he laughed.

“You didn’t share THAT part of the speech!”

“You mean the bit about marrying a wonderful woman and sharing my story with her?”

“yes that part, you sneaky devil, you made me cry”

“Happy tears I hope?”

“Yes!” she smiled planting a kiss on his smiling lips.

@penwieldingdreamer @fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @ladyreapermc @witty-wallflower @gatsbynouvel @bitchyslut99 @keanureevesisbae @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @kindainlovewithkeanu @paperplanesandwallflowers

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Yours Truly [Part Eleven]

Summary: Chris and Layla return from Minnesota.  Pairing: Chris Pratt x OFC, Chris Evans x OFC Word Count: 1810 Warnings: FLUFF. A/N: This fic was previously posted on my multi-fandom account; in honor of OC Appreciation Day, I figured I would queue it all up for your reading pleasure throughout the day! This was a collab with @captain-s-rogers , and I will link her chapters at the end of all of my posts! Some GIFs were difficult to find again, so if there’s no credit, they’re from Google Image Search or from the original post. 

July 13

Caroline,

I skipped a few days of letters, waiting for Chris to head to Minnesota. I dropped him at the Kansas City airport this morning, and in a couple of days, I’ll pick him and Layla up and bring them home.

I have an interview this afternoon with the elementary school that Layla will be going to. I’m excited, especially after having met a few of Layla’s friends at her party. They seem like good kids, and would be so fun to teach. I like the town, and staying close would be good.

How are things with Chris? Ugh, I’m so torn between wanting you to be able to keep your job and not have to deal with the media, but also wanting you two to be together! He’s just so perfect for you, and even seeing you on stage next to him – you’re adorable together. I hope you haven’t completely given up on him.

See how I’m avoiding talking about my Chris? I can’t even write the words, but I guess I have to since we have sworn off the phone again. The date was pure perfection. He made me dinner and we ate outside on the patio with the first sunflower blooms of the season in a vase on the table. We danced to that Billy Currington song I’ve always been obsessed with, and then it started to rain. We ran inside and he kissed me and then – don’t you DARE say I told you so! – told me that he loves me.

Caroline. Why does that terrify me? Chris is amazing. He makes me laugh – like really laugh, not the polite way like when something is kind of funny, but the kind of laugh that comes out when you don’t expect it.

I know why it terrifies me. It’s because he also told me that I filled a hole in their home. What if he only thinks that he loves me because I’m filling whatever void Emily left behind? Honestly though, I think that’s what worries me the most, and it’s because – am I really about to say this? – because I love him, too.

What the hell is going on with us, C?

Yours truly,

Sadie

After donning the same outfit she had worn for her date with Chris, Sadie tucked the letter into her bag to mail out later, and headed for the elementary school.

Mr. McCaffree, the elementary school principal, greeted Sadie cheerfully when she arrived, and welcomed her right into his office. He asked all the usual interview questions, and seemed very impressed with Sadie overall.

“I do have a couple of other interviews, one today and one tomorrow, but I have to tell you, Ms. Coleman, they’ll be hard-pressed to do better than you,” Mr. McCaffree told her with a smile. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Sadie smiled back. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

He nodded. “I’ll call you by Friday.”

“Sounds great,” Sadie replied, shaking hands with the man. “Thank you.”

She left the school, stopped at the post office, and then headed back to the farm. She changed into a tank top and shorts, and decided to take a walk around the property. With the distraction of the interview over, there was only one thing on her mind.

The last few days with Chris had been wonderful. He had apologized immediately after blurting out that he loved her, assured her that he wasn’t out to rush her and there was no agenda behind his spontaneous confession.

“You’ve stolen my heart,” he sighed before kissing her knuckles. “I don’t expect things to happen so quickly for you, but, please, tell me I haven’t ruined what we’ve started.”

Sadie had assured him that nothing was ruined. Though she knew she felt the same way, she didn’t let on to that fact — simply told Chris that rushing things would likely ruin the connection between them, and she didn’t want that.

“It’s more and more clear the longer I’m here, there’s a reason this job posting came to my attention. There’s a reason it all worked out so well, losing my job back home but finding an opportunity here with you and Layla. But, I don’t want to lose this, either.”

They had spent the rest of the evening talking on the couch, once they changed into dry clothes. Sadie avoided going to bed, knowing the storm would keep her awake; Chris wasn’t in any hurry to leave her while she was frightened. They fell asleep together on the couch, comfortable and warm.

The next couple of days after that, Chris gave her her space to process his confession. He was always open when she approached him, but wasn’t in her presence more often or for longer than need be. The night before he left for Minnesota, Chris took her out to dinner in town. Their interactions were easy and comfortable, despite the confusion and uncertainty Sadie was experiencing about their feelings for each other.

At the airport that morning, Chris had kissed her sweetly and promised to call when he could. It was a short flight to Minneapolis, but there would be a couple hours’ drive to the town where his parents lived. Sadie had a lot to think about, but so did Chris. After all, he hadn’t planned on saying what he said; he hadn’t planned on falling in love with the woman he hired to teach and care for his daughter over the summer – and certainly not so quickly.

No closer to reconciling her mixed-up feelings on the matter, Sadie wandered into the shed. She had been in this building only once before, and that was to retrieve Layla who had gone out under the pretense of asking her father a question, then stuck around to bug him.

She looked around at the tools in the shed, recognizing some and wondering about the purpose of others. Finally, she came to Chris’s workbench, smiling at the pictures of Layla from over the short years of her life. Finally, she found a copy of the picture of Sadie and Layla from Layla’s birthday party. Sadie remembered making an extra copy for Chris, but never thought he would put it up anywhere. She took the photo down from where it was taped to the inside of a tool box lid, studying the image for a few moments before flipping it over.

“My girls at Layla’s fifth birthday party,” Sadie read on the back of the photo. As a smile spread across her face, she repeated, “My girls.”

With those two words, every bit of confusion was erased from Sadie’s mind – and her heart.

When the day came for Sadie to pick up Chris and Layla from the Kansas City airport, she was so excited, she left the farm a full hour sooner than necessary. The house had been too quiet without Layla, and just plain lonely over the few days that Chris was gone.

While she waited for their flight to arrive, she sat and read a book, although she was so excited, she had to read several of the pages two or three times. Focusing on the content of the book was not her mind’s priority.

“Adie!”

Sadie dropped her book just in time for Layla to launch herself into Sadie’s arms. Sadie squeezed the little girl tight, feeling relieved at having her charge home once more.

“Did you have so much fun with Grandma and Grandpa?” Sadie asked.

Layla nodded earnestly. “I did! I have something for you, but you have to have it at home Daddy said because it’s in my suitcase.”

“Fair enough,” Sadie chuckled, tucking her book back into her bag and handing the keys over to Chris. “Glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” he smiled, as Layla ran ahead to the baggage claim. “I haven’t told her about us yet. I thought I’d let you decide when you’re ready for that.”

“Soon,” Sadie promised. “Layla, sweetie, stay where we can see you, please!”

Chris’s and Layla’s suitcases showed up about ten minutes later. Once the car was loaded up, they were headed back home. Another rainstorm had set in on the last twenty minutes of the drive, which meant Layla and Sadie made a mad rush for the house when they arrived, while Chris grabbed the luggage and ran in behind them.

“Daddy, now can I give Adie her present?” Layla pleaded.

“Take your bag to your room, let Sadie help you unpack. You can give her your present while you’re in there.”

The two girls made way for the bedroom. Sadie retrieved Layla’s dirty clothes for the laundry, while Layla dug for an envelope. Adiewas scrawled across the front of the photo envelope in Layla’s handwriting; Sadie smiled and took out the paper folded inside.

“Is this us?” Sadie asked, her heart swelling with love.

Layla nodded. “That’s me an’ you an’ Daddy! With the sunflowers. See?”

Sadie looked at the picture, unable to stop her smile. In the picture, the three of them were holding hands, and each one had a red heart on their shirt.

“It’s ‘cause we all love each other,” Layla said, pointing at the hearts.

Sadie held the picture to her chest. “I’ll treasure it always, Layla. Thank you, so much.”

Together they finished unpacking the suitcase, then Sadie tucked the picture safely away in the nightstand in the guest room, under Layla’s close supervision.

“I thought you two went to bed!” Chris teased. “Who wants to watch a movie?”

“Me!” Layla replied, jumping up and down. “Can we have popcorn? And get pizza?”

Chris exchanged a look with Sadie, who shrugged. “I suppose coming back from vacation is a good time for a movie night. You got it.”

“Yay!” Layla cheered, dancing around.

With a little more convincing by the five-year-old, every pillow and blanket in the house was constructed into a fort-type structure for them to watch movies. While Chris went into town to get the pizza, Sadie helped Layla with her bath, got her into pajamas, and braided her hair. Sadie braided her hair as well, got into a pair of sweats and a tank top, and kept Layla busy until Chris returned.

They only made it through a portion of the first movie before Layla was asleep between the two of them. Chris picked her up and tucked her into bed, returning a few minutes later. He put his arm around Sadie’s shoulders; she tucked her head against his chest.

“Missed you while you were gone,” she told him.

“Missed you, too,” Chris said, laying a soft kiss on her lips. “Up for another movie?”

In truth, Sadie was feeling tired, but to be there cuddled with Chris in a pillow and blanket fort – she would never be tired enough to turn that down.

Part Twelve

[mrsmunsons]

Red and gold and black and white

These answers are long and I am SORRY, but thank you very much for asking.

Red: What’s the first book you remember reading?  -- UM.  The Very Hungry Caterpillar.  I was absolutely, 1000000% OBSESSED with that book.  I'd even go so far as to call it the first piece of art I fell in love with.  The reason I read and reread (and reread... and reread) it so many times is because I thought the illustrations were so damn beautiful.  I actually still feel that way.  Second to that would be Nancy Drew.  I've talked about this many times before, but my mom gave me her omnibus of the first two books when I was a kid, and I treasured it.  It's what gave me my love for that series, and for Nancy as a character.  I also had a really unique copy of Aesop's Fables (I think it was specifically for kids; that would make sense) that I enjoyed, too.  I'd stay up past my bedtime reading through them.

Gold: What is your most prized possession? -- I don't know why this is such a hard question for me, but it is.  There are a lot of things that I hold very close to my heart, and when I think about my childhood I don't think much about material things--which is what I'm assuming this is asking, since I've only ever seen "prized possession" used in that context.  But... there's this one family photo we have that I love.  It's from 1945, and in it are my grandma, her sister, brother, and their mom.  The reason I love it is because of another thing I've mentioned before:  it's the same photo from the story I previously told, about our family friend saying my grandma's mom is guarding me (that lowkey paranormal experience).  It makes me feel safe, when I see it.  I even have a digital copy.  Other than that, I'd have to say any shirt of my mom's that I've managed to steal and squirrel away in my own closet... that she is never getting back.  😇

Black: Favourite band? -- I didn't grow up in a space where going to concerts was a normal thing, so I'm not someone who has a storied history of attending live shows and things like that.  The feelings I get for specific bands comes from much smaller memories (and yes, I know that still counts).  So bands like The National, Dashboard Confessional, Incubus, The Killers, Linkin Park, and so on, mean a lot to me for simple reasons.  They remind me of high school.  Of stupid jokes with friends.  Hearing those songs for the first time and falling in love with them.  Waking up to any number of them playing on my alarm clock radio.  I still can't really nail down a true favorite, but those all come pretty damn close.  Honorable mention Florence and the Machine, who I mention too often these days.  But it's Florence.

White: Favourite TV show? -- The way I laughed at this, because so many -- SO DAMN MANY -- shows have ended up disappointing me in some way.  Let's see.  Frasier.  Elementary.  Orphan Black.  Westworld.  Castle.  Good Behavior.  Stranger Things.  Being Erica.  I can rewatch these and still feel good when I do.  I love sitcoms, too, even if it doesn't seem like it based on this list.  I just don't think of them as readily as other shows... Frasier notwithstanding.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #274

“now i can hear the marching feet / they’re moving into the street”

What color was the last swimsuit you wore? I only have a black one. Is your dream job attainable? I mean define “dream job.” I’d ideally be a meerkat biologist if I was willing to live in Africa and could handle even mild heat, but I can’t/won’t do either of those, so it’s not obtainable to me. I’d also love to be a paleontologist if I could travel and handle heat once more, but again, I can’t. My only *attainable* dream job is being a photographer, which I am aiming for. I’d LIKE to focus on nature/wildlife photography, but that’s unlikely to be able to support me, so. Do you have to go to school or work tomorrow? N/A Have you slept for longer than usual today? Yes, but only because of my nightmares. I tend to take at least two (though sometimes one) hour-long naps during the day because if I wake up once during the night, as I usually do, I’m fucked because I’m very likely to have an intense nightmare. It seems like the medicine I’m on wears off with consciousness, I guess. I only allow myself to sleep an hour at daytime because my mother has noticed if I have a nightmare, it’s usually no earlier than one hour into sleep. Even then I still have them occasionally. Have you ever taken classes for a musical instrument? Recorder in elementary school was necessary for whatever stupid reason, and then I played the flute for years. Out of school, I took guitar lessons for a while. I got semi-decent (at best I could do the intro to “Crazy Train” at normal speed, I think), but it didn’t last because it was annoying/time-consuming to build up the calluses that make playing painless, I was really bad at overthinking where my fingers were, and I just wasn’t invested quite enough. I’ll tell you, it gave me mad respect for guitarists, that shit isn’t easy by any means. Have you ever been on vacation with someone other than your family? Yes, though it was brief. I was a kid (okay, pre-teen, w/e) still in my separation anxiety from Mom phase and it was literally because of me we had to go home. I still feel shitty about it, though no one seemed upset at me. How old do you think you’ll be when you move out on your own? Who the fuck even knows anymore. Do you have a job? If so, where do you work? If not, do you want one? No; N/A; yes ultimately but no at the current moment because I have to keep watch over Mom. If you wear make-up, which brand of foundation/powder do you use? N/A Would you call yourself a “people” person? Nope. What is one change you need to make in your life this month? Just one??? What’s been tugging on your heart lately? My PTSD plus self-image has been very, very bad. What is the last thing you did that made you feel guilty? Mom had to clean up my cat’s projectile vomit even though she’s supposed to stay away from this kinda stuff through chemo. I literally cannot fucking touch vomit, never mind what came out of him that night. I felt like absolute fucking shit and I still do because WOW I’m a great adult right!! Do you have any physical traits that are bothering you lately? Like, everything. What kind of dog is your favorite? I’m biased to beagles. What was the last thing you received in the mail? A book. What is the last thing you wrote? Like, physically? My signature at the doctor’s office. Do you still care about the person you first kissed? Way fucking more than I should. Do you require a lot of private time? Definitely more than most people. Do you have any songs currently stuck in your head? I haven’t listened to it in forever for ~reasons~, yet “The Mortician’s Daughter” is stuck in my head badly and really needs to fuck off. What was the last song you downloaded? I dunno, I went on a download binge a while back. Have you ever read a really funny book? I remember at least one. “Bite Me” by IDR-Who. Some vampire satire. Have you ever done something humiliating while drunk? Never reached the point of being drunk. How would you react if your celebrity crush came to your door? fuckin YIKES I am NOT attractive rn go away Has your mom/dad ever walked in on you kissing or anything more with someone? HAHA my mom has always had the decency to knock, not so much his mom a;lwkejrewoei but the answer’s still no. What electronics are in your room? (DVD player, CD player, etc) This laptop, my phone, a Nintendo DS, my iPod… Do you have a box anywhere with special items you'll to keep forever in it? Yes, actually. Grew up calling them “treasure boxes.” Do you have any pictures of yourself on your bedroom walls? Lol no, I’d definitely prefer to not see myself as much as I can. That sounds melodramatic, but I’m being serious. It either depresses me or makes me angry. Does your dad collect anything? The Cleveland Browns’ football team stuff, for one. Maybe Carolina Hurricane stuff, too? Idk. I don’t live with him and don’t go in his “man cave” at his house often ha ha. What's better, a desktop or laptop? Explain. A laptop. Portable; that’s all the explanation ya really need. Do your parents still hide chocolate eggs around on Easter for you? Nah. What do you typically do on Easter Day? We go to my sister’s house to watch the kids do their egg hunting and open their gifts, then we usually go to Ashley’s in-laws’ for dinner. Is there anyone you literally need to exist? Apparently not. Thought so. Never let yourself into that state of mind. What would you prefer to get from a guy/girl: flowers, a hand-written poem, a picture he drew of you or a nice night out? Oh, a hand-written poem would wreck me, yeesh. Or a drawing. But any would be very sweet. Do you remember why you made the last mistake you did? I don’t know the most recent mistake, but probably because I’m just in general a terrified person who second-guesses or overanalyzes everything. Did you check how many calories the last thing you ate had? Yes. I’m back on my calorie-counting obsession again. Are your nails long or short? Short, always. I can’t keep them long. What is your favorite kind of cookie? Just the ordinary chocolate chip is fine. What was the last compliment you received? I don’t know. Who will be the next person you kiss? I normally delete this question because the answer should be so obvious, but I feel like just pointing it out that no one fucking knows who they’re gonna kiss next. It’s a dangerous mindset. Don’t make assumptions about what you’ll have even tomorrow. Have you ever made your own icon? Yeah, on many sites. They’re just about always just edits, though, not truly original work. What color is your computer mouse? It’s black. Have you ever been sung to on your birthday in a restaurant? Yes. Do you like black olives? I don’t like olives period. Do you actually think there will be a zombie apocolypse? Personally, no. I do think it’s scientifically possible, we already see this in insects, but I just don’t imagine it happening to humans before we’re our own downfall. Do you like the person you’ve become over the past years? Fuck no. Have you ever gone to church just to get a significant other? … No…? Have you ever punched a wall out of complete anger? No, that shit is terrifying. Are you really ticklish? YES don’t fucking touch me. How do you decide what you're going to eat each day? I just follow what I’m craving that day. How are you similar to your siblings? Different? Compared to Ashley and Nicole at least, I can’t think of any real similarities off the top of my head. They’re intelligent, motivated, outgoing, successful, yada yada, then there’s me. What's your favorite type of non-fiction literature? Autobiographies by people I’m actually interested in. Do you believe in souls? Soulmates? Souls, absolutely. Soulmates, no. It’s fairytale ideation to think your soul has a perfect match with another, hate to break it to ya. Favorite soundtrack? BITCH don’t make me choose between Shadow of the Colossus and Silent Hill 2. Fucking masterpieces. Pianos or guitars? *shrugs* Depends on the music and my mood. Did an animal ever bite you? Never seriously. How many languages do you speak? Only English fluently. I’m poor at German by now. Wiggly worms or bumble bees? Worms gross me out, bees are Good Boys. Religion? I don’t really identify with any. I just believe there’s some form of ultimate intelligence and essences beyond just the body, and that’s all I even pretend to know. Fog, thunder, or rain? Fog gives me that Silent Hill Vibe *Italian kiss* What regret keeps coming back to haunt you daily? The way I treated Jason after the breakup. If you could cure yourself of one allergy, what would it be? Damn pollen. Do you know anyone else with your name? Yeah. What would you be most afraid of happening if you were to visit Africa? Viruses or botflies. Where are you tempted to move to sometimes? I very legitimately want to live in Canada by now, but I won’t because I’m not moving that far from family. Who seems like they have the perfect life? I try not to make that assumption of anyone. Do you ever take pictures of negative moments? Does taking pictures of roadkill count???? lmao probably Do you think it would be a good idea to post photos of negative moments as well as positive? Well… I guess it depends. Like ngl, the pictures some people share of them having panic attacks to just show how fucking real they are definitely touch you, as do those depicting poverty, etc., BUT I really do think there are limits and also differences in motivations. What time zone are you in? EST. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? Wow, speaking of. No. ^Why or why not? I am an UGLY cry-er, my man. But I also just don’t want people to see that, and it’s definitely not on my mind to take a picture during a breakdown. What was the last thing you cried about? My life. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Yes. Do you know anyone who has twins? Yes. Where do you buy calendars from? I don’t. Do you shop at the dollar store often? Not *often*, but we’ll stop by for a snack or something sometimes. Are you following in the career path of any family members? No. Do you feel you missed out on a lot as a kid? I guess in some ways. Who was that best friend you ever had? Sara. What color is your laptop? Black. What are five careers you think you’d be good at? My work history has shown I can’t do shit right. Are you thriving in your life right now? lmao no one is in 2020. Who do you have moral support from? My family, doctor, and a few friends. Who encourages you to go after your dreams? The same as above. Do you have people in your family who want you dead? Wow, I hope not. Do you have a walk-in closet? No, but my room at the new house will. :’) Not that I need one, it’s just pretty cool. How do you feel about people like Elon Musk, Bill Gates, and Jeff Bezos having so much power and control in the world? Do you believe that any one person should have so much power? Let’s be real, in our current world, money is power, and no one should have that much control of the world, especially if your intentions are bad. NOW I don’t know jack shit about any of those are far as morals go, but just saying. It’s dangerous. Has your anxiety alone ever prevented you from doing something you wanted to do? This is ACTUALLY the story of my fucking life. Do you enjoy reading stories and novels that are heavily stylistic, poetic, or unconventional or do you prefer your prose to follow a familiar grammatical structure? Okay, I LOVE those, like Johnny Got His Gun and The Handmaid’s Tale that’s kinda like, run-on writing. Just letting a train of thought go. Those are two of the most powerful books I’ve ever read and they’re both written in a unique fashion. Have you ever fallen for any sort of Internet-based hoax? (e.g., fake celeb death, satire news article…) I’m sure at some point, especially as a kid. Do you tend to read reviews before you watch a movie or read a book? What do you hope to get out of doing so? NO. I don’t wanna have any precognition. When you go to a concert, how far must you travel for the most usual venues you visit? Most are on the other end of the state, and NC is long, so. We’re lucky if they come to Raleigh. Do you rent movies frequently? I never do, really. What is your favorite thing to do outside? Take pictures or swim. What’s your favorite meal to cook? I don’t cook. What movie has been taken WAY too far, as far as sequels go? Oh, I’m sure there are some, but none immediately come to mind. I’m not that into movies. Do you refuse to eat certain foods because of what they look like? Yes. I am VERY poor at getting past how a food looks. What are you listening to? NSP’s cover of “Don’t Fear The Reaper.” It’s fuckin gorgeous. How much homework do you have tonight? N/A Are you wearing any bracelets? Yes; one that Sara got me as well as an ovarian cancer awareness one. What's physically wrong with you right now? JINKIES I just feel really lethargic like always. Do you take any medications daily? Ha ha thanks for actually reminding me I need to now. When was the last time you moved to a new house? Two years ago, and now we’ll be moving to a much better place by the end of this month/early September, finally. When it comes to relationships, are you the jealous type? Nah. Which gift cards do you have in your wallet? Idk actually. It’s not like I use it a lot. Can you remember the last time you felt ill? What was wrong with you? A few nights ago. I was extremely hot, dizzy, and pretty nauseated. I was fine, though. If you wear make-up, do you take it with you, to reapply throughout the day? Does your make-up stay for a long time after you first apply it, or do you find that you need to reapply often? Are you wearing any make-up atm? I pretty much never wear makeup so have never really had a reason to reapply it. I’m definitely not wearing any now. Does your kitchen have a theme? No. Do you like ice cream sandwiches? GIRL yes. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? Earbuds. They’re more comfortable imo but more importantly block out exterior noise very well. Are you a fan of any independent films? ngl, I don’t know exactly what that is and I don’t feel like looking it up. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I very genuinely think some of the RP stories I’ve taken part in are novel-worthy, yes. I wanted to make them books when I was younger, but now I no longer do mainly because there are areas that are just way too fucking dark that I don’t wanna put out there but play massive parts in the stories, so like… Do you regularly watch the news? I never do. Facebook is my “news” source lmao. Who was the last person you video-chatted with? I don’t remember for sure, maybe some doctor? What do you want the theme of your wedding to be? I don’t really think about this, seeing as my mind has changed enough, and it also depends on what my partner wants, too. Have you ever been caught passing a note in class? Noooo, I absolutely hated passing notes because I was genuinely a good student. I only did so very, very rarely if another friend started it. Have you ever had dandruff? I have dandruff AND a dry scalp. It’s a wonderful mix. Have you ever gone through a phase of crushing on EVERYONE? Definitely not. Do you have any clothes with spikes/studs on them? I have a spiked choker, and I might still have gloves with studs? Can you remember what you last clapped for? My mom’s birthday! :’) Have you ever given a pet to someone else? Yes, with cats; we had to do that quite often when I was a kid because we had so many cats, none which we could afford to fix. Then we’ve done it with two dogs we just couldn’t handle. Oh yeah, I gave my iguana away too because he was too high maintenance for me, but also because he DESPERATELY needed a much bigger terrarium, which we couldn’t afford. I absolutely could not watch him in that tiny tank. I miss him a LOT, but he went to a wonderful home! The lady who adopted him sent me pictures upon pictures months after taking him in. Do you know anyone named Walter? No. What's your least favorite ice-cream flavor? Strawberry is fucking disgusting. And that’s coming from someone whose favorite fruit is strawberries. What's your least favorite song by your favorite artist? I’m not sure. There’s a handful that just don’t grab my attention that I don’t even remember them. What was the last good news you heard? I can FINALLY talk to my psychiatrist tomorrow. Who’s your favorite singer of all time? Probably Freddie Mercury. What airline do you fly most? Idk, I don’t really pay attention. I haven’t flown very often though anyway. Do you have a dog that is destructive? I don’t have a dog. What’s one TV series you’ve seen every episode of? Meerkat Manor is the most obvious, ha ha. Maaaaany times. Assuming you have Facebook, who last left you a wallpost? Probably my friend Sammi. Assuming you have hair, how are you wearing it today? It’s too short for me to “wear” it any particular way. It’s just… there lmao. Assuming you're not homeless, what kind of living arrangements do you have? I live with my mom in a house she’s renting. Have you or have you ever considered messing around with the same sex? I’m bisexual so you can guess I’m not opposed to it. Are you particular about any brands of food you will or will not eat? Are there any restaurants you refuse to go to? Brands, no. I don’t eat Chick-fil-a because they’re run by fucking homophobic bigots that monetarily support conversion therapy and other anti-LGBT projects. I’m not giving you any fucking money. What was the most current dream you can remember about? Do you generally dream every night, or hardly at all? It was actually last night, when I dreamed about accidentally running into Jason where I last knew he worked, and he was really hostile. If I don’t take my medicine, I always have nightmares when I sleep.

[bucket-girl]

Chapter 2-1 Personal Info logs

In chapter 2, it’s possible to buy the personal info of Nao, Reko, Gin and Q-Taro with tokens, but it’s easy to miss. Reloading saves and redoing minigames is a hassle so I wrote them down for convenience. Most of them are in the form of conversing with AIs, I’ve put Sara’s lines in italics. Text under cut.

Gin > History ...History? What should I talk about, woof? "Hm... Just an introduction would make me happy." Gin Ibushi from Heiwa Elementary Class 6-3! I'm 12 years old, meow! I take care of the animals, meow!! "Is school fun for you?" Hmm... It's not that fun 'cause of some guys I don't like, meow. But it's fun to meet friends, woof! We play games together, meooow! "Do you wear that outfit to school, too?" Nah, because people get mad. It's only when I'm at home, woof! ...It's kinda easier to talk when I wear this, meow. But I can't wear it to school, so I get uneasy, woof. So people at school tell me I'm obedient, woof! But that's wrong... meow... My aspirations are to live with animals all the time, meow! "Heehee... What kinds of animals?" I'm way into gators right now, meow! They're cute, wooooof!

> Physical Info I'm 138 centimeters and 35.5 kilograms, meow! That's 4 foot 6 inches and 78 pounds, woof! And I grew 2 centimeters at my last checkup, meow! "Your growth spurt and voice change must be coming up soon." Obviously, meow! I'm gonna be bigger than you, big sis Sara! "Ahaha, I'm sure you'll look really cool. I've got high hopes for you." Yeah! I'll sweep you off your feet, meow! Be grateful, woof! "Okay, let's make it a promise." Got it, meow! A promise for when I outgrow you, woof!

> Relatives My family's a double-income household, meow! I don't have siblings, so... It's lonely when I'm there by myself, meow... My mom's super nice even when she's exhausted, woof. No matter how late she gets home, she always makes dinner... And no matter how much I tell her not to overwork herself... "Do you like your mom?" I love her, meow! I'm worried how she's even busier lately, woof... "What about your dad?" I don't like some things... but I like him, meow. But I super hate when he's a drunkard who causes trouble, meow! It's embarrassing, woof! And he's always getting yelled at by mom and apologizing, so it's like he's got no dignity, woof. I don't wanna be that kind of pathetic grown-up, meooow! ...But I'm sure I won't, meow. 'Cause I'm not blood-related to dad, woof. "Huh...?" I heard he married mom when I was 2, meow! So that genetics stuff won't make me turn out like him, woof! "Is that so...?" Well, it's not like I hate dad, woof. It's true, meow!

> Death Game info I dunno, meow... It's scary, woof... What's dying feel like, meow...? "I... don't know either." I don't wanna never meet mom and dad again, meow... Big sis Sara... are you scared too, meow? "...Yeah, I am." "...Really scared..." .......... I'll definitely protect you, meow! Come see me anytime, woof! "Heehee... Thanks..."

> What he holds dear What I hold dear...? That's hard, meowww. Hm... It's gotta be mom and dad, meow! I'd be sad if they went away, woof! Ah! And the Mew-chan cushion I'm always with! They're super precious to me, meow! We're always together, so I forgot, meow! Sorry, Mew-chaaan! Woof... "Mew-chan is family to you too, huh?" That's right, meow! I got seriously mad when dad was gonna throw them away, meow! Unforgivable, woof! Get me a new one?! No way, meow!! You're a dummy, woof! I'm getting furious just remembering, woof! Mom should yell at him again, meowww!

Q-Taro > History I was raised up in an orphanage that's just a mite bit weird. Had people from all sortsa countries. I got a lotta dialects and stuff mixed in me... 'Course, they sent me to compulsory education up 'til high school. Can't thank the place enough. An' now, I'm a pro baseball player. ...Kiddos at the orphanage root for me, too. I wanna hurry up and show 'em... That even guys in situations like ours can get on a mound and have the stadium roarin'... Well, point is, I got no history yet. I'm about to be makin' some radiant records! Better get yer autographs early, Sara!

> Physical Info 6 foot 4 inches! 230 pounds! And lemme tell ya, it's all muscle, not fat! My position's pitcher, but I got confidence in my batting, base-running, and fielding! But my greatest weapon's my head. Gotta be smart to be a first-class athlete. "Is that how it is?" 'Course, I'm reflecting on the time I tore apart those puzzle rings by force, but...

> Relatives .......... "Is it hard to discuss?" Nah... there's just nothing to discuss. 'Cause I've never seen my birth parents' faces. Only place I knew was the orphanage. That's why... the people there were my moms and dads. Doesn't matter our blood relation. But, well... I do get thinkin' sometimes. What kinda people was I born to, and what kinda genetics do I got...? I started baseball jus' for fun, but... I've thought how if I pitch as a first-string pro... maybe my birth parents'll be watchin'. "...Do you want to meet them?" If we could talk and laugh it up, that'd be the best. All at ease, like "I'm havin' a great life"...

> Death Game info Huh, you're doin' this Death Game, right...? Knowin' me, I doubt I got even the slightest notion of dyin'. Hell, to a second-stringer, baseball's a Death Game with my life as a player on the line! But to do some self-analysis... I wonder if maybe I'll try an' win within the rules of the game... In the saga of a sports player, ya tend to forget about breakin' the rules. Maybe somebody like you, young and not knowin' fear, is more suited to findin' a path to survival. "...Is that so..." ...Sorry to make it sound like it ain't my business. I mean look, I'm an AI, y'know?

> What he holds dear Hold dear, huh... The caretakers at the orphanage, the kiddos... Of course, baseball, and... Myself... probably. I ain't gonna sugarcoat it. I don't wanna die, and I don't want the people I like to die. So I don't like to kick people... But if I gotta, I got the resolve. But I hate the kinda asshole who's got that as their first thought! ...Sorry for gettin' all fired up. Shouldn't have said that all cocky-like when you're involved in it... Don't you mind me.

Reko > History Err... I'mma super cool, 23-year-old singer-songwriter... Something like that? I've liked music since I was a kid. Classical, folk, heavy metal... I listened to all of it. Think around grade school, I found myself starting to compose and write lyrics. My instincts moved my body. That was a fun time... People praised me, and my parents were just plain happy... Once they started calling me a gifted kid... Then there started being more noise. Old bastards in the music industry wanting money... My pops craving the limelight... Before I knew it, I was making music that my heart wasn't in. In middle school, I rebelled. I was a rocker! I made tons of songs nobody even wanted! But even then, noise swarmed around me. Man, even my spirit had to give in. From high school on, all the spice was gone... Didn't even have anger... My activity dried up. I had tons of chances to be famous. But I smashed 'em all. I was totally just the industry's problem child. Everybody kept their distance from me. Once I couldn't even gather members, I borrowed Alice to make a band... Hahaha. Then two and a half years ago... He caused that incident... ... Well, at any rate, I am who I am now 'cause of that shitty past. Learn something from that, Sara?

> Physical Info 5 foot 7, 121 pounds. Pretty proud of my reflexes! And I can remember choreography in a snap, so... My memory's bangin'! Well... I'm not great at baseball and stuff... Hell, maybe I'm not great at anything that's got nothing to do with music. "By the way, what are your measurements?" N-No reason to tell you that, right?

> Relatives Family... Well, uh... ...I like my mom. Though she's a little weird. She's affectionate... and I cause her lots of trouble. Yeah, I gotta show my appreciation more. My old man... Well, he's a good guy... But let's say he gives in to temptation. He's not the most true to his convictions. I hated him for the longest time... But he's woken up now, and gone back to his plain and simple personality. After them is... Alice, huh. He's... what should I say? Why'd he do something like that...? A while after he got arrested... I left music Ahh... I just remembered. At the time, I wrote in my diary, which is rare... I wrote that music, the thing I'd poured my soul into all this time... suddenly felt like a cold series of notes... this inorganic thing. I wondered, was this how music sounded to people who didn't care about it...? ......... I always thought I didn't care about my brother, and never listened to him, but... Truth is... Maybe I was a little jealous of my normal brother. And acted that way out of spite. ... ...You shouldn't ever murder somebody...

> Death Game info Why do I gotta go through this shit...? Do we have anything in common...? I haven't got a clue...

> What she holds dear Believe it or not... I think family's important, right? I wanna show appreciation to my parents. But like, right now... The original me is being put through this Death Game, yeah? If she dies, she can't do... anything. So when you think of it like that, what's important's my own life, ain't it? "...What about your instruments?" Instruments...? "When I first met Reko... I heard she treasured her bongos." Bongos...? Well, sure. I'm playing bongos in my new band, but...

Nao Unlike the others, Nao's personal info comes as documents you can read wherever. > History Egasaki Elementary School ... Graduated Egasaki Middle School ... Graduated Third Kurotsuki Private High School ... Graduated Takesasa Private College of Art ... Currently 1st year Middle-class, born and raised by a very ordinary family. School grades below average. Focused on art starting in high school, and now seems interested in pursuing only that. Looks up to an art club advisor she met in high school, staying deeply intimate with him even post-graduation. Often seen going to the man's atelier. Doesn't appear to have many friends, but has a long association with most she does have, so it's suspected she values relationships. Also, refrains from going out at night, generally staying at home even on days off. No information known on what men she associates with.

> Physical info Nao Egokoro Age: 19 Gender: Female Height: 162cm (5'4") Weight: 55kg (121lb) Has little experience in sports and the like, limited to P.E. classes in compulsory education. Even so, her reflexes are poor. Perhaps due to her inclination toward art, she has very good eyesight. Her ability to remember a scene for a long time or recognize the individual flaps of a bird's wings is within reason, yet superb. Since much of this comes from practice, about the only thing that can be called a born talent, it is thought, is her passionate love for art. No other notable characteristics, although she has a large bust. (Sara will remark that the last line is harassment and tear it out)

> Relatives Born to a middle-class, extremely average family. Both parents are in good health. Having good relations with them, her situation is common yet happy. The father has been an office worker for 20 years. The mother has carried various jobs. No siblings. The father is under his wife's thumb. When they fight, it appears Nao Egokoro often defends her father to resolve the conflict.

> Death Game info Safely cleared the First Trial. Survived the first Main Game. Greatly affected mentally by death of her teacher. Took off with teacher's head and ran amok. This could be taken as mental weakness, but endurance of great shock could make her that much more mentally sturdy going forward.

> What she holds dear Most likely, Nao Egokoro treasures the artworks she has created, and brushes et al. received from her high school teacher. Due to minimal desire for money, she does not seem the type to want expensive things.

[forrestleaf]

??????????????????????????????? ♡♡♡♡ :**

Is that payback?? 31, at least I counted that much >//< like, I have no idea, but I feel like you're being passive aggressive in a friendly way rn, but I really have no idea

Aaaaanyway

If I'm outside with someone, I always get a little anxious and I also have this talent of getting lost, so I usually kids hide behind ppl and grab their sleeves or sth anime style, sometimes I'm bold enough to grab their hands, but I can't do that if I'm not comfortable around them and usually my friends are all annoyed that I do this

I shake my legs

If I sing around people, they're very special to me and I trust them very much

I always talk to myself, even when I just got a message, I first talk to them, and then write down what I just told them by talking to myself

Sometimes, I get scared of being annoying just with being me, so I do stuff that annoys others just so I know what is annoying about me

I love hearing people say stuff about themselves just as much as I love talking about myself, I just don't ever know how to reply to them talking about themselves

I'm sure that the first time you'd see me, you'd barely be able to hear what I say, I'm actually super silent until I feel completely comfortable around new people even if I know ppl, I have to get used to talking to them first

I love necklaces, especially if they look magical

Under my bed, I have like 2 chests, and they're filled with so much stuff, I keep wanting to clean those but I never get to it and I'm way too lazy, but you'd probably even find some treasures there

I love anything horror related and am actually kinda a person of darkness but I'm way too soft to ever do anything bad

In kindergarten, I once wanted to take a bug home and have it as pet but one of the kids told our teacher and I was so upset at the kid

In elementary school, a boy once stepped on a spider and it's legs kept itching and I nearly missed the bus and got into trouble with the teachers because I didn't want to leave the spider when it had it's last moments, and in the bus I cried at how bad that boy was, I hated him for that

I'm feeling like everything is spinning rn, even myself

No one ever really hugs me when I'm crying, partially be ause they don't care and partially because I don't have the guts to let others see I'm crying. Resulting in me never really having received affection from people around me. Not even my mom, unless she slapped me before

Sometimes I wanna say deep stuff and am already doing so but then I back out

I used to be a terrible person some years back but I've changed, people don't really believe me when I say this, but it's true

I can be very childish for my age even if people call me mature

I sometimes jump when ppl wanna do a high five

I'm in general very jumpy, you can scare me easily, or rather, make me jump

I keep looking around the room if I'm trying to come up with ideas

I have been diagnosed with add as a kid but never knew what it meant

I once saw a summary picture of bpd and it reminded me of my dad doesn't have to mean a thing

Some nights I walk around the house with a knife because I'm scared of ppl

I love chilling on the floor

I love being anywhere in weird positions

I'm always wearing a rubber band around my wrist I don't mean hair tie but forgot the word

I have a pretty bad resting bitch face

I love when ppl consider me cute

Sometimes, I hate myself just from talking to myself and wonder how people can put up with me

I have a this thing that I'm just very unable to cry, not completely, but if I'm crying, I'm not sad I'm probably doing horrible but can't admit that

I love you very much