#god I am so nervous about this fic lately...

[hysteria-things]

Can you make a two part fic about Chris x reader having twins a girl and a boy you can choose the names!

PHOTO ALBUM (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a trip down memory lane when chris discovers a photo album.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SO MUCH FLUFF, flashbacks, happy tears

CHRIS AND READER ARE SET TO BE OLDER!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,299

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i’m debating for part two to have a little bit of cute smut in it. what do you guys think🤔

the knot in your neck pops as you move your head from side to side. you love them to death, but having twins is hard work, especially if they’re six months old.

it’s their afternoon nap time, so you just put them in their cribs. you walk down the stairs, seeing baby toys still scattered all over the place. chris was supposed to clean up, but instead, he’s sitting on the sofa with a photo album in his hands.

he’s smiling widely, dragging his finger down the page and flipping. crossing your arms, he looks up at you. “i’m sorry. i got distracted.”

you giggle. “i can tell.”

“but come look at this.” he motions with his hand for you to go over. you do, sitting on his lap as he flips back to the cover. “we haven’t updated this in a while.” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder.

written in black marker were the words BRAEDEN AND LYDIA.

starting this album was chris’ idea. he and his family love photos because photos are memories. he didn’t like the idea of taking pictures on just a phone, and he had a camera lying around. why not put it to use?

PHOTO I

“hi guys,” you say into the phone, glancing around the bathroom. you’re not actually showing this to anybody, but chris isn’t home yet and whenever you’re nervous you like to talk to somebody, even if it is to yourself.

“so, um…” you trail off, grabbing the clear blue pregnancy test box and putting it into the frame. “i’m like ten days late.” you chuckle, opening the box with your shaky hand.

you bite your lip, reading the directions before doing your thing and closing the cap on the test. “so now we wait… what is it? three minutes?” you double-check before nodding. “yeah, three minutes.”

tapping your fingers impatiently, you stare at the loading screen. a simple screen that can determine the rest of your life in a matter of minutes. “i’m scared, but also excited. chris and i weren’t trying but we wouldn’t be upset either. like whatever happens, happens, you know? we’re prepared either way.” you laugh nervously, rambling on and on.

this is the longest three minutes of your life.

“it’s time.” you say, taking a deep breath and covering the test. “oh god.”

a few inhales and exhales later, you uncover your hand cautiously to have a peek. it takes you a bit and a double-take before you grab the object and bring it closer to your face.

a happy sob leaves your mouth before you cup your hand over it and turn the test to the phone. you’re shaking from the adrenaline, but the words are clear on the screen.

‘pregnant.’

while washing the dishes, you hear the front door click open. you smile over your shoulder when chris starts walking to you. “hey.”

“hi!” he exclaims, kissing you on the cheek.

you nod your head to the pot of pasta on the stove. “i made some noodles.”

“thanks,” he says, still smiling and kissing you once again, but this time on the lips.

as he goes to make himself a bowl, you stop him. “i want to show you something.”

furrowing his brows, he looks at you confused. “am i in trouble?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “no.” there’s a hint of emotion in your tone. “close your eyes and open your hand.”

he wants to question you but decides not to and follows your instructions. your eyes start to tear up, pulling the pregnancy test out of your pocket, and place it in his palm.

he opens, seeing your beaming face until he looks down. his eyes widen tremendously. “you’re lying.”

you shake your head, wiping the tear falling from your eyelid before grabbing his face. “you’re lying!” he repeats, this time more energetic as his tears start to form, even though he’s fighting it. “we’re going to have a baby?” he whispers, voice cracking.

“we’re going to have a baby.”

you wipe his eyes until he jolts. “hold on.”

he jogs over to the bookshelf in the living room, grabbing the camera that has been sitting there for god knows how long, and putting it up to his face to look through the hole. “pose!”

the shutter goes off, and that’s where it all begins.

PHOTO II

sunday dinner is a tradition the sturniolo’s have. chris insisted on doing a post-dinner photo, making the others confused but do it anyway. he’s never this excited.

he finishes setting the camera up on the tripod, sprinting back to the group since it’s on a timer.

the camera beeps as it’s counting down, and once it’s at the three-second mark, he speaks. “everybody say… y/n’s pregnant!”

the flash goes off, getting everybody’s reactions all in one.

PHOTO III

“it’s going to be a little cold, but you should be used to it by now.” the ultrasound tech says, and you chuckle. chris sits beside you on a stool, looking at the moving black-and-white picture.

everything’s going smoothly with your pregnancy, a small bump now visible. it’s the twelve-week scan.

you get chills on your body when she puts the gel on your abdomen, moving the device in circles to find the baby as the three of you look at the screen with her stethoscope is in her ears. “huh.” the doctor hums, scooting closer to the monitor. “do twins run in either of your families?”

you and chris look at each other, and then back at the woman. “i’m a triplet.” chris says.

she smiles, nodding her head and bringing her pointer finger up to the screen. “see these? there’s baby a and b. i’m hearing two separate heartbeats, too.”

you rub your forehead while smiling, chris staring in awe at the two moving babies in your belly.

the tech lets you two have your moment, printing out the ultrasound photos. “congratulations.” she says, handing the photos to you.

PHOTO IV

matt and nick were the gender holders, and they dropped off two little cakes from the bakery not long ago.

you and chris didn’t want a big party. you wanted this moment to be between you and him.

you guys set up a picnic blanket in your backyard, the cakes labeled A and B between you.

he’s wearing a blue shirt while you’re wearing a pink summer dress. “are you ready?” he whispers, hovering the knife over the first cake. you hold the other one.

you nod, biting your lip to keep the excitement flowing through your body. “three… two… one…”

slicing a piece, you wiggle in thrill as you plop your piece down on a plate. he mirrors you.

his piece is bright pink, while yours is bright blue. he leans in, squeezing you tight and kissing you passionately on the lips.

“i love you so much,” he says, smothering pecks all over your face. he makes sure to capture this moment on the camera that leans against the picnic basket.

“i love you more.”

PHOTO V

there’s nothing like holding your child for the first time. in this case, there’s nothing like holding two at the same time.

“they’re so precious.” you say, cooing at the one you named lydia. “and so tiny.”

the nurses and doctors left after checking everything to give you guys space. they’re both perfectly healthy. a tear trickles down your cheek, now staring at braeden. “thank you, chris.”

he shakes his head. “this was all you, baby.” he kisses your temple, going to the end of the bed and adjusting the lens. “smile for me, beautiful.”

CLICK!

there are other photos from holidays, but the first five pictures have a special place in your heart. they’re the key moments to your little family that you and chris are growing.

together.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual

[devilmademewriteit]

Drabble request for dbf!joel getting blown under the table or something while he's having a convo with reader's dad?!?! IDK I just love your dbf!joel!!

You Can Be the Boss

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

warnings: rough oral (m receiving); petnames (angel, baby, sweetheart); age gap; choking; hair pulling; (yall this is pure pure daddy issues FILTH, I warned you. I warned you hard).

Hi y’all ty for sending me all ur requests. ummm you guys are insane ! and so am I ! maybe more because I’m actually the one writing these ! this one is so dirty ! don’t say I didn’t warn you !

more to come hehehe. I don’t tag ppl for my smaller drabbles / fics so turn on notifs or whatevs ;)

-em<3

—

“As close as I’ll get to the darkness, he tells me to, ‘Shut up, I got this.’”

- You Can Be the Boss

—

It was still a secret, after all.

Sneaking into his apartment, late nights in alleys, abandoned cars lining the streets of the QZ… you’d managed to keep your joint intoxication with one another under wraps.

Today… today was risky. You usually waited until the wee hours of the morning to even walk by his place, let alone enter, but you’d needed to drop off a sweater that Tess had leant you the previous week, intending to leave it folded up on the doormat before bolting down the hall. Your footsteps were nervous and heavy, which led to the door swinging wide open on its hinges, a gruff “where you runnin’ off to, Angel?” and a set of rough hands pulling you through the doorway.

Then you were spread open against the tattered table cloth of his (busy) kitchen table, underwear shoved to the side, watching a hunched over Joel Fucking Miller spit on his hand and run it up down his heavy, hard length.

“Shouldn’t come here during the day,” as he’d lined himself up, “Can’t fuckin’ help myself.”

That’s when you heard the definite sound of a key twisting inside a lock. Joel’s head shot up — your eyes barely had time to widen before he was shoving you under the table, panties still twisted around your ankles.

A quick zip, then footsteps.

“Oh, sorry man—”

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“—Tess said you wouldn’t be home.”

It’s your father.

You thank God for your his poor observation skills (and the tablecloth) as Joel responds, “ah, no worries,” frustratingly non-chalant as ever.

“While you’re here though,” and your heart sinks, identifying your dad’s intention to stay, “Was wondering if we could go over the plans for our new routes. FEDRA assholes blocked off another south-east one today.”

Your blood turns to ice inside your veins as both men pull out their chairs, settling into a purely-business conversation. Joel barely hesitates, cool as ice.

Not fair that he gets to be so calm while you’re so… not.

Not fair.

If only there was a way to even out the playing field.

Crunched into yourself, you scoot closer to Joel’s calves, clinging onto his denim and doing your best to make as little noise as possible. When it’s clear, however, that your father’s far too invested in the practicalities of the conversation to suspect or inquire into or even notice anything else, your eyes wander towards the slowly softening bulge, still visible underneath Joel’s belt.

And you get an idea.

The man always tortured you, and you were well aware that what made your arrangement especially enticing — for the both of you — was the taboo-ness, the wrongness of it all.

So your pussy drips just thinking about it.

Slowly, delicately, you slide your hands up Joel’s thighs, feeling his every muscle respond, tensing, turning to stone, or jolting with electricity beneath your playful touches.

It’s hard, quietly pulling down his fly. Still, metal tooth by metal tooth, you eventually succeed, unable to hold back a smile of vindication when his cock springs up, swelling and hardening between your fingertips. Joel covers his choke with a cough.

Just as you duck down to lick a fat stripe up his cock’s dark underside, noticing how the lungs above you constrict — freezing — the conversation changes.

“You been seeing a lot of my daughter?”

Joel takes an uncharacteristically long time to grunt out a “here n’ there.”

You hold in a laugh, both at your dad’s timely question and the reaction it causes. Placing a hand at the base of him, you consider this the perfect moment to start teasing his tip with patient, innocent little kitten-licks.

“Been acting weird,” your old man continues, unphased and unassuming, “Worried she’s been gettin’ herself into trouble.”

Trouble? You’re looking at him.

Your dad’s whole “fatherly concern” (not like he’d ever shown any before) angle makes you bold. You want to make it harder for Joel to deny your father’s suspicion.

You want to make him lie through his teeth.

You part your lips, wrapping them adoringly around the entire head of his cock before gliding down, using your hand to assist you as you please every inch of him.

While he mostly manages to keep it together, his legs don’t, gently parting with desire to allow you better access.

“She-she’s a good girl, man,” Joel manages, and while his delivery borders a groan, he stays surprisingly level (your body doesn’t forget to note his praise, either, aching cunt growing wetter and wetter at his every word). “‘Bit juvenile sometimes, and reckless—” he pauses, and it’s very clear he’s not speaking to your father, “—but good—” you work every inch of him with your hands, throat, and mouth, savouring the feel of his ridges and veins, the taste of his salt on your tastebuds, “—so good.”

You freeze, scanning the room for tension as both you and Joel try to figure out if his desire-stricken tone’s given you away.

It hasn’t.

Of course it hasn’t.

Your dad continues on as if everything were normal, as if Joel’s tip wasn’t kissing the back of your throat. “Just not sure if I’m raising her right—or… or if I was much of a father at all.”

Yeah, probably not. You know, given that I’m under the table sucking your best friend’s dick.

You watch, head still slowly bobbing up and down his length, a hand carving a careful path down his leg. Joel’s fingertips breach your shoulder, his palm slowly graduates to cupping the back of your head.

And he shoves you forward, forcing every punishing inch of himself down your little, gasping throat.

“Just needs a little discipline,” your torturer responds, raising his gravelly voice to mask the definite sound of choking.

“A heavy hand.”

You huff against his abdomen. Just like that, Joel’s taken the reins of your little operation.

Like he always did. Like he always does.

“You’re probably right,” your father responds, sighing with concession. Tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes while your lungs burn for oxygen, mouth stuffed and nose pressed into Joel’s skin. He chuckles, slapping the table. “Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile, huh?”

“That’s right,” Joel responds, a soft coo, tightening his grasp in your hair and somehow forcing more of himself between your lips.

Making his point.

You hold back a whimper, nails hopelessly clawing at his jeans.

Your dad raps his knuckles against the wood, pushing his chair back to leave. Unfortunately for you, Joel doesn’t move, holding you there like a prisoner — suffocating you.

He clears his throat. “I’d walk you out, but, you know—” your eyelids grow heavy, little stars beginning to dance in your vision “—been goin’ hard recently. Wearin’ myself out.”

A huff of understanding and concurrence from the other side of the room.

Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, hinges squeak, goodbyes are uttered, and your father’s left you alone with his buddy again.

Joel’s chair scrapes back — he pulls you along with him, attached to him, out from underneath the table.

Finally, finally, he releases his grasp.

You jump off of him, strings of saliva trailing from your lips, gasping for air as if you were seconds from drowning.

You aim to collapse against his knees, but he quickly grabs you by the throat, presses his big thumb under your chin, and forces your wet, tear-lined eyes up to meet his.

They’re filled with a lust so dark, you wonder if just that look might swallow you whole.

“Prouda yourself?” He speaks, voice low.

Dangerous.

And you just smile, dazed, nodding. Nodding because you know where it’ll get you. Nodding because you just know how much it’ll entice him.

“‘Course you are,” he continues, softer, “Shoulda been honest — shoulda told your old man he raised a fuckin’ slut.”

Joel lifts you up, indelicately shoving you down on the table, right back in the position you’d originally started the visit in.

His eyes darken to black when he sees how wet you are, how fucked-out, needy, and unapologetic you are.

“And you know what, baby?” A deceiving coo as he lines himself up at your entrance, using his other hand to squeeze your jaw — tight.

You look at him with big, begging doe eyes, eyebrows already knitting together from the tantalizing contact.

“I’m really fuckin’ glad he did.”

And as Joel Miller roughly sheathes his cock inside your young, tight cunt, you find yourself agreeing with him.

—

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

AO3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Your frustration mounts as you click the permissions again to allow the camera and microphone access. It’s so annoying! It just keeps running you in circles. Great. This is off to a good start. Late for the interview. That’s always the best first impression. 

When at last your firewall stops blocking the call, you flinch at the sight of yourself in the corner. You’re further jarred by the man staring back at you. Your mouth opens and for a moment, you’re frozen. You were so focused on troubleshooting, you forgot about what was waiting on the other end. 

“Oh, hi,” you squeak. “Sorry, I--” you look around, glancing through the clear walls of the library study room. It’s the first time you’ve been to this branch but you didn’t think the clutter of your apartment would make a good backdrop. “I was having issues with my camera.” 

“Quite alright,” he responds with a grin and a lilted accent. He sounds as professional as he looks. 

He wears a grey jacket over a muted teal shirt that lights up his eyes, even over the screen. His short hair is combed back neatly and there’s not a speck of stubble on his jaw. Under the structure of his attire you can tell he’s well-built. 

You resist the urge to look down at yourself. A white blouse. Boring but professional. It gets the job done. Hopefully. 

You force a smile. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he begins through your nervous silence. “I do appreciate your time and I would hate to waste it. So, we can hop right in.” He looks unflinchingly into the camera, “oh, let us not go so far past courtesy. I am James, we’ve been corresponding, yes?” 

“Uh, yeah, I remember. James.” You gulp. 

He says your name with a keen inclination. “This is rather not the position which requires those cliche questions so I won’t trouble you with asking what animal best reflects your personality.” 

You cough out a humouring chuckle and fold your hands on the desk. 

“Forgive if I should seem to the point. You see, it’s a very practical position. I think it’s best we go over what is expected before we go into the finer details; expenses, relocation, dates--” 

“Mm,” you squeak and put a finger up, “s-sorry, um, I thought we were interviewing but it sound like you’ve made a decision?” 

“Well, yes, I’ve reviewed your CV and your submitted profile and your answers to the questionnaire were acceptable. I didn’t think there was much else to consider,” he intones. You shift and try to hide your surprise. 

“No, of course, that makes sense,” you say. “Thanks, I guess I was confused.” 

“Not to worry. I find that written communication can often lack clarity so I thought it best we have a face-to-face in this circumstance,” he looks down as if he has a book or paper before him. “So, did you have any questions before I proceed?” 

“No, no, really, I'm sure you’ll answer them all.” Your cheeks bloom in a half-smile. You were so nervous about getting the job but you’ve already got it. 

“Right then,” he sits back and once more stares down the camera. “It is a very old property but the upkeep has been consistent. There should not be any glaring necessities for maintenance, this more of a custodial position. So, you would be the one to keep the place clean, make sure it is aired out, tend to the lawns but we do employ a grounds keeping service that comes fortnightly to trim.” 

You nod. It’s intriguing. You were sent photos of the property but you’re not quite sure of its purpose. Judging by the clustered pines in the background, you would guess it’s remote. A getaway that could be a goldmine for those wanting a vacation from the urban jungle. 

“You would have a roster, you see, of those you could contact for service so you will not require any specialisations. You are the day-to-day and would be expected to bring in the appropriate support for higher-touch difficulties.” 

“Right,” you try not to show your anxiety. 

“Albeit I should warn you that the reception in that location is not the greatest so if you cannot call out, you would need to keep trying. It will eventually catch but uh, not to mind, as long it is attended is what matters, not when,” he says.  

“Mhm, that makes sense. Um, can I ask what the property is? Is it like a summer home or...” 

“Ah, family inheritance,” he answers primly. “I’ve not much use for it past the sentimental value and I thought of leasing it for traveling parties but I’ve heard horror stories. Right now, I’m merely sitting on it until I figure out exactly what to do with it.” 

“Oh, right. Wow. Quite the inheritance.” 

“Hm, yes, my uncle did rather adore me. I was the only one named in his will but he was a bit of a curmudgeon.” He laughs. “Now, I must ask the most important question--” 

Before he can, the door swings open and you jump in your seat. Your heart sinks. You signed the room out for ninety minutes. You thought it would be more than enough. Surely it hasn’t been that long. 

Shoot. It’s him. How did he find you? You deliberately went out of your way so that he couldn’t. 

“Jake,” you stand and turn to him, trying to block the computer. “What are you doing?” 

“There you are,” he touches his chest as if he should be the one so afraid. “You didn’t come home--” 

You growl and cross your arms. 

“Jake, go away,” you grit out. “Not right now. Please.” 

“I had to make sure you’re okay,” he steps into the room and you push yourself back against the table. “Who else is going to look after you?” 

“I will scream, alright,” you warn. “Now leave me alone. I’m tired of telling you.” 

He sighs and his jaw squares. “I don’t get you. You act like I’m such a bad guy and I haven’t done anything to you. I never hurt you but you hurt me. You just spit in my face--” 

“Pardon,” the voice rises from the speaker at your back. “If I may, she is occupied and you are interrupting. I have a mind to contact emergency service should you persist.” Your mouth falls open and you turn to look at your laptop. James leans forward to glare at the lens, “Not sure who you are, fellow, but the lady has been clear.” 

“Who-- who is he?” Jake sputters. 

“Please, just go,” you plead. “Or I will call the police.” 

Little good they will do, you think, but that doesn’t need to be said aloud. 

He frowns and his eyes glint dangerously. You stare back at him, tense, fingers curling and uncurling nervously. That man on the screen won’t stop him and you don’t know if anyone would hear you from the desk. 

“Fine, guess I’ll see ya around,” he relents and backs out. 

You don’t move until he snaps the door shut. You hurry over and twist the lock on the inside. You don’t know why you didn’t do that before. 

“Are you alright?” James asks, drawing you back to the desk. 

You sit and look at the keyboard, “I’m very sorry. I...” 

“He doesn’t sound like a friend,” James says. You shake your head. “Well, then, it does sound like you’re in need of a fresh start. I do hope this can be that for you.” 

You look up and bat away the glimmer on the brims of your eyes. You’re not just afraid, you’re embarrassed. His kindness is as comforting as it is unexpected. 

“Thanks, um, anyway...” you exhale, “you were going to ask something.” 

“Yes, uh, yes, I was,” he reconfigures and puts another smile on. “When can you depart? I would of course arrange travel to be sure you get here safe and sound.” 

“Oh, when... whenever is best. Not to be too desperate but as soon as possible,” you say. 

“Wonderful,” he praises, “absolutely wonderful. Is tomorrow too soon? Pardon my own desperation.” 

“Tomorrow?” You utter and shake your head. “Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.”  

It's sudden and scary but it’s good. The sooner you go, the less time Jake has to figure out what you’re doing. The less chance he can follow. It’s an escape. Not a perfect one but it’s all you have. 

🩸

You spend all night packing. You parse down what you have to the essentials and put the rest in bags. You don’t care about the furniture. You say as much in your email to your landlord, telling him to use your deposit for the disposal. 

You whittle your life down to three bags. A large suit case, a knapsack, and a single purse. You have it ready to go by the door. 

You feel uneasy about it. You stare at your luggage, the lights off, windows closed. Your phone buzzes and you put it to silent, ignoring the messages from your personal pest. You’ll be done with him too. You wonder if you should just toss your cell. 

You don’t sleep. You can’t. You still can’t believe you’re getting out. You hope you haven’t given the game away. 

There’s a tap on the window. You nearly roll onto the floor. You look over and hear it again, a harder impact. Are you serious? He’s throwing stones. He could break the damn glass. 

You shake your head. You won’t fall for it. Not again. You remember when he came to your door and cried until you opened up. He even smeared ketchup on his face to make you think he was hurt. It’s hard to tell the difference through a peephole. 

Almost there. Almost out. You just need to make it a few more hours. 

As you ignore the incessant tapping and the light of your phone glowing ever few minutes, your thoughts turn bitter. You should message everyone who turned their back on you and tell them exactly what they’ve put you through. Somehow, you think they’d care as much as they did before. 

Sleep eludes you but a foggy daze comes over you as the windows soften with the early morning. There’s no more pebbles bouncing off the pane. Just you and the buzz of the sleeping city. 

Your alarm chimes and you get up as your head pulses. You’re used to the constant fatigue. It will ease up and you’ll just feel a bit heavy. When it’s normal, you don’t notice as much. 

You get ready and have an instant coffee by the door. James messages just before nine. Your car will be there in ten. Oh, early. You don’t mind about that. 

You won’t go out and wait. You’ll stay here, where it’s safe. 

When your phone goes off again, you expect it to be Jake. It’s James. Whew. You’re so close, you can’t believe it. 

You grab your knapsack and purse, and drag your suitcase out behind you. You lock the door and throw the key through the mail slot. You hurry down the hall and take the stairs over the elevator.  

You don’t look back or anyway but forward. You look at your cell. 'Black Jaguar’ followed by a plate number. Jaguar? Holy moly. 

The tinted window rolls down and reveals the same face from the Zoom call. You didn’t know he was coming himself. You assumed he was sending a cab or something. You slow as you come out the door. He smiles and pops open the door. 

Before you can come forward, another figure appears, blocking your way. 

“Hey, I've been calling all night,” Jake says. You stop short and nearly yelp. Of course! 

“Jake, move.” 

“Where are you going?” He looks at your bags desperately. “Wait, you can’t--” 

“Pardon me, sir, is there some issue?” James strides up behind him. 

Jake turns to face him and stiffens, “and who are you—wait, you’re that guy from the computer.” 

“I’m none of your business, as is her life,” James insists. “Now, seems you’re used to picking on those smaller than you but let’s see how you do against me?” 

James steps closer. He’s a few inches taller than Jake. You can’t move as they stare each other down. You wait, expecting chaos. 

“I was only talking,” Jake shows his palms and shrugs. “It’s whatever. She’s a bitch anyways.” 

He turns and snarls over his shoulder at you. You back up. As Jake turns, he’s knocked off kilter as James hurls his fist into his jaw. The shorter man staggers and falls to one knee, catching himself in the grass. 

“Well, that was a lovely chat,” James smirks and beckons to you, “shall we?” 

[kamii-2]

you should make a kk arnold or ice brady or nika mühl fic when the reader is straight but one of them turns them 🌸 and then it ends in like a heavy smut.

so basically like pick from one😭, but like imagine one of them with a strap and they whisper in the readers calling them a slut for them😱.

especially nika in her accent 😱😫

-👾

hi 👾 anon!! i love the request so much and this is my first time writing for nika so i’m sorry if it’s out of character and im so sorry it’s so late ive been busy lately and right now is the only time i get to write. this story is pretty long ALSO i might make this a series bc i love this request so much bro 😭

warning(s): cussing, smut

genre: fluff & smut

pairing(s): nika mühl x reader

not proofread ‼️

==================================

everyone knew you were gay but you just didn’t know it. the way you stared at nika every time she walked past made everyone suspicious, except yourself. you took it as you had a friend crush on her even though you guys were already friends, you thought that maybe you jsut wanted to get closer to her? you weren’t sure and hoped it stopped but didn’t at the same time. nika on the other hand, she knew you wanted her but played it cool because she knew you were confused about your sexuality. you had told her that you were straight but she’s no idiot, she sees the way you eye her down.

-

it was 8:39pm and you were in your room, listening to music. you were scrolling on instagram when nika popped up and you got the familiar butterfly feeling. you set your phone down and started to think of her, which lead to you thinking of fucking her, then after realizing you thought about fucking nika you immediately started to realize..

“holy shit, i’m gay.”

you knew she would be awake so you asked to come over. you texted her and she immediately replied to you, she said you could come over so you grabbed everything you needed and walked to her dorm that was at the other end of the hallway. you thought about everything that just happened as you made your way to her dorm.

when you reached her dorm you opened the door, knowing she left it unlocked for you. the moment you walked in you went straight to her room where she was sitting on her bed on her phone. when you walked in she stood up am dah be you a hug and you returned it before wucikly pulling away. “nika.” you said, “y/n.” she said with a bit of a concerned voice, you dragged her to her bed and sat her down. “you’re gonna want to sit for this.” you said and you looked down at her, she sat on the bed leaving back a little, man spreading, she looked so fine.

“okay so,” ypu hesitated, “i was in my room and i was on instagram and i started thinking and i realized im gay.” you said kind of fast and you were very nervous, you were getting hot from being flustered and near your ‘new’ crush. she smiled at you, “baby, i’ve known since forever, the way you stare at me gives it away.” she told you while sitting up and grabbing your waist. you weren’t gonna lie, you were getting wetter and wetter every second just from the sight of nika. you imagined all of the things you guys could be doing right now, and she was obviously thinking the same thing.

she pulled you into a kiss and you immediately kissed back. she caressed your body with her hands, she grabbed your ass and it took you by surprise so you gasped and she slipped her tongue in your mouth, the kiss turned from hot to heated real fast. the sexual tension was through the roof, you wanted her and she knew it. nika has been thinking about this moment for a while now, she wanted to know what your moans sounded like, what you tasted like, what you looked like under your clothes, she knew you were beautiful under but she wanted to see for herself, she wanted you and needed you badly.

she broke the kiss and stood up. “God, y/n. i need you so bad.” she said as she flipped you two around and made you lay down. she kissed you then kissed all over your neck, leaving a few hickies here and there and licking you. you needed to be touched, you were getting desperate. “please nika, do something to me.” you pleaded. she smiled on your skin before getting on her knees in between your legs, she looked up at you for consent even though she already knew the answer. “nika, just put your fingers in me already. i need you so bad.”you begged, you were getting frustrated by how slow she was going. “stop being so whiney.” she said while taking your shorts and panties off, she smiled when she seen how wet you were for her. she stuck her two fingers in you with no warning and pumped in and out of you at a normal pace. you were moaning and it was just like she had imagined.

the sound of your angelic moans made her want to taste you, she added her mouth and ate you like you were her last meal. you were making all of the fantasies come true, you moaning and she uses her fingers and mouth to fuck the life out of you. nika was soaked at the sight of you, she knew she was gonna have to teach you some stuff but she didn’t mind.

you were so close the cumming, a few thrust you might explode. “oh, i’m about to cum.” you moaned out, “that’s too bad, you wanna give attitude then you’re not about to do shit.” she said non-chalantly. the longer you held it the louder you got, “please nika, i need to cum. i’ll do anything im sorry for being a bitch.” you pleaded, your legs were shaking, you couldn’t take it. she removed her mouth a continued to finger fuck you and she stood up and leaned into your ear. “go ahead and cum for me.” nika whispered in your ear and went down to your neck and left big and dark hickies all over. you came and she stood up, pulled her fingers out, “i’ll be right back.” she informed you as she left the room.

when she came back she had a towel and a amazon box, she put the box the floor and helped you stand up. nika placed the towel down and told you to sit on the towel, she opened the box and pulled out a strap. “wow.” you muttered, “first time?” she glanced over at you as she took off her shorts and shirt, leaving on her black panties and bra. “no im not a virgin, just didn’t expect you to be the type to use a fake dick.” you told her with a small giggle. she looked up at you with a smile as she put the strap on, “well i am.” she told you as she walked over to you and lined herself up with you, “ready?” her hands were on your hips, gripping them hard. you nod in response, she slowly pushes into you, using your wetness as lube.

nika starts to go faster every couple thrusts and the faster she got the more pleasure you felt, “oh God!” you moaned out. your legs were threatening to close around nikas waist but she held them open. the way she thrusted in and out of you had your legs shaking after a few minutes of it.

while she was fucking you stupid and you were moaning her name she leaned down to your ear, “you’re such a slut for me.” her words made you moan loud, it gave you butterflies and it made your urge to cum stronger. she loved your reaction to this so she said something else, “who do you belong to?” this sent way over the edge, “yours, i’m all- oh, y-yours.” you were trying hard to not stutter and moan while talking but it was not easy, “yes baby, that’s right. you are all mine.” she reassured you, the pet name was your last straw, you came all over her strap. she helped you ride out your orgasm before pulling out and taking the strap off and setting it on top of you. she went to get another towel the wipe the strap snd you down.

“nika.” you called to her, “hm?” she replied as she was putting the strap back in the box. “let me please you, i want to make you feel good.” you told her while you stare at her, she smiled at this and replied with “sure, i’ll help you if you need it.” she said as you guys traded places. you got on you knees in front of her and removed her panties, she automatically spread her legs for you. you looked up at her, “im sorry if i fuck up.” you say as you start to suck on her clit. “damn, y/n i thought you didn’t know what you were doing.” she whimpered, “i don’t.” you replied from in between her. you added a finger in snd plunged in and out of her, she took your hand and made you add another finger, the amount of please was over whelming and she was a moaning mess. “fuck!” she moaned as her legs closed around your head, you pry her legs back open with one hand. you started to suck harder and finger her faster, she pushed your head down into her pussy. she was moaning loud and cussing, some words in english some in croatian.

“oh, y/n i’m cumming.” she informed you while her legs were shaking, “do it.” just as you said those words she came in your mouth and you licked all of it. while you got off your knees she walked to the bathroom to clean up, you followed her and helped her.

-

you guys were both getting dressed when she sat next to you, “so, what are we?” you asked her. “y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” she asked you, “yes nika i will.” you smiled and kissed her.

you both spent the rest of the night cuddling, watching movies, and more. you were happy you came over after your realization or none of this would’ve happened.

==================================

i’m so so so so so sorry this took so long to get out but i hope you enjoyed!! also id like to clarify the strap nika used was NOT used on anyone else but anyway i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[benevolentbones]

hi!! could i request an elle greenaway x bau!reader fic where elle gets sick (like a bad case of the flu or smth) while the team is away on a case? and like she keeps insisting that she isn’t sick until she finally lets reader take her home and take care of her. tysm!!

stubborn girl | elle greenaway x reader

warnings: none really? gender neutral reader

word count: 0.9k

a/n: i hope this is okay!! first time writing an elle x reader but love her to death<3 feel free to request more characters!!

elle greenaway was as stubborn as they came. you would know, as you had been dating her for just over a year.

you were aware of her habit of never backing down from a case until it was over, never taking the easy way out of things. which you really admired about her at first, but at this stage it was just dumb.

the team was on a case, just a state over from headquarters. everyone had set up in the local police department and were gathered around for a briefing.

“we know the unsub is a male in his late twenties, he’s nervous-“ elle paused before letting out a loud string of sneezes.

you let out a sigh, leaning back in your seat. you had tried to convince her to go home, leave the case to the rest of the team as she clearly wasn’t well, but she wasn’t taking it for an answer.

so here she was, sinuses blocked, killer headache and a temperature.

“elle, you don’t look too good.” reid commented, giving a concerning glance your way. you simply shrugged, giving him a defeated smile.

“spencer’s right elle. you need to go home.” hotch stated, his lips pressed in a hard line.

“no, i’m fine seriously.” she let out a cough, pulling a tissue from her back pocket and wiping her nose.

you locked eyes from gideon who was sitting across from you, you shot him a pleading look and he immediately understood.

“greenaway, you’re off the case. go home and rest up, it’s an order. l/n, you drive her home, make sure she gets in.” gideon stood up, and reached to grab the case file that was in front of elle.

she let out an exasperated sigh, before grabbing her bag and walking out of the room. you mouthed a small ‘thank you’ to the team and followed her out.

elle trudged out of the building, to where you had parked your car. she raked her hand through her brunette locks, her harsh eyes softening when you came to stand in front of her.

she looked upset, and you understood why. it was an intense case, and it was coming to a close. but she had been sick for the last few days and it was just getting worse, so it was best for her to leave it.

“i’m fine, y/n. really.” she huffed, folding her arms over her red shirt.

“mhm whatever you say, baby.” you smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her temple before opening the car door for her.

the drive back to elle’s house wasn’t too bad, after her initial fifteen minutes of complaining she had fallen asleep. her head rested against the passenger car door, her feet tucked up on the seat.

you looked over every so often, to make sure she was doing alright. she looked so peaceful. god you loved that stubborn girl.

you pulled into the driveway, putting the car in park. your eyes flickered over to your girlfriend’s sleeping form. after reaching over to unbuckle her seatbelt, you got out of the car, strolling over to the passenger side.

you swung the door open, scooping the sleeping brunette up in your arms, and shutting the car door with your hip. you often thanked that the physical aspect of your job allowed you to lift her with ease.

you finally reached elle’s bedroom, after struggling to open the front door whilst holding her. you laid her down onto the soft sheets of her bed, pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

“mm where am i?” she began to stir, big brown eyes blinking the sleep away.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you up, you’re at home in bed now. you wanna change out of your clothes? i’ll make you some tea.” you smiled sweetly.

although her hair was somewhat dishevelled from her nap in the car, dark rings plagued under her eyes and there was a slick sheen of sweat covering her forehead, you thought she looked beautiful.

one thing you noticed about elle throughout your relationship was, when in public she always wanted to be independent. she didn’t want any help from anyone. but behind closed doors, in the company of just the two of you, oh she loved to be looked after.

she nodded yes, sitting up amongst the plush pillows. you wandered over to her wardrobe, pulling out a pair of pyjama pants and one of your hoodies that she had stolen a few months ago, passing them to her to get changed into.

“i’ll be back in a minute, elle.” you smiled to her, before going back downstairs to make her a drink.

on your way back up to her bedroom, you could hear the faint sound of the tv.

you pushed open her bedroom door to find elle, surrounded by a mountain of pillows and blankets, big doe eyes transfixed on her tv which was playing an episode of gilmore girls.

“good choice.” you smiled, she scooted over in bed to allow you room to sit beside her. you passed her the ceramic mug and she took it gratefully.

“i’m sorry.” she mumbled, taking a sip of the warm liquid.

“why’s that babe?” you quizzed, leaning back into the soft pillows.

“i know i’m stubborn, im hard work for you. and you do so many nice things for me..” she trailed off.

you reached over to grasp her hand, her tired eyes staring into yours, her eyelids heavy.

“you’re not hard work, i love you just the way you are.” you smiled before leaning in.

she leaned away for a second before speaking. “i don’t want to get you sick.” she pouted.

“i don’t care.” you cupped her cheek, and she leaned in and closed to gap between you, pressing her soft lips against yours.

she pulled back, pressing her forehead against yours.

“i love you too.”

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Now Loading...

Starring: Frat boy! Sukuna and a (possibly) pregnant reader

Synopsis: Funny how something as small as a grain of rice can cause a shift so massive in so many lives. Deny all he wants, you're having a baby and now Ryomen has to comes to terms with being a young dad. While it can be read on it's own, this is also part of the Frat Boy Au, which you can read here!

Content Warnings: a pregnancy scare, other than that, it's mostly fluff ;)

(Also, if yall want a song to go with the fic: New Mistakes by Jellyfish inspired it)

You had experienced time slowing down before. It slowed down as you walked across the stage for your high school graduation. It had slowed down again when you got your acceptance letter to college. It slowed down the first time you saw your now boyfriend, and when you met his mom for the first time. But it had never been slower than it was now, as you sat on your bed, staring at the Clearblue pregnancy test in your hand.

“Well, what’s it say?!” You roommate, Mei Mei, asked- arguably more nervous than you were. She knew Ryomen was bad news, but she didn’t think he was this fucking bad. She moved to try and take the test from your hand, only for Shoko to slap her shoulder.

“Stop making a bad situation worse Mei.” Shoko growled, irritated from not being able to light a cigarette during this high stress situation.

“Two lines…” You mumbled, not looking up from the stick, “Two lines, what does two lines mean!?” Their expressions told you everything you needed to know. Panic filled you as you dropped the test and grabbed a pillow to scream into. God, how could you have let this happen?! Your period was only a few days late, you had taken the test mostly to put Mei Mei at ease. You didn’t know if you were happy you took it or not anymore.

“It’s okay Y/n, we’ll figure this out.” Shoko sighed as she rubbed your back, failing to hide the disappointment in her voice.

“How am I supposed to tell him?!” You panicked as you ripped your head up from the pillow, “How do you tell someone you ruined there life?!”

“You ruined his life?!” Mei Mei scoffed in disbelief at the assertion, “You should be asking him how the hell he plans to make this up to you! He ruined your life!”

“Nobody's life is ruined!” Shoko snapped at the both of you. “It’s a baby not cancer, Jesus fucking Christ. And it’s not like you don’t have options. You’re the one in control here Y/n, whatever you want to happen will happen.” She said, motherly assurance uncharacteristically thick in her tone. It did make you feel a little bit better about the situation. You weren’t absolutely powerless here.

And it wasn’t like you were against being a mother. Quite the contrary, you liked the idea. Of course, you never thought it would be this soon in your life, but…the universe had a funny way of handling things. And if you were going to have a baby, you didn’t think you could have picked a better guy than Ryomen. He was loving, and kind, not to mention the fact he was guaranteed a good job out of college. But, you also knew that he was beyond nervous about being a dad one day, terrified by the notion of becoming his own father.

“I need to talk to Ryomen.” You sighed. 

🍼🍼🍼

“Dude, In what world does a theoretical physicist need to know about the themes of The Metamorphosis, so a dude becomes a bug, so wh-”

“Hey, shut up Y/n just texted me.” Ryomen cut Satoru off as he checked his phone, the buzzing alerting him to a notification. They were sitting next to each other on the couch, venting about classes they hated. Sugruru was sitting on the arm of the couch closest to Satoru, and Nanami taking up an entire love seat across from them as he played on his own phone. It was a relief to have an excuse to end this conversation really. Ryomen did not have it in him to try and listen to his frat brother straight up misunderstand classic literature for the millionth time.

“And you couldn’t wait to answer it until I finished my sen-”

“No, Y/n texted.” Ryomen said without looking up from his phone, but trusting his tone got across his annoyance. Satoru knew you took precedence, Ryomen didn't know why he was acting like you didn’t all of the sudden.

“And she couldn't wait for two-”

“Are you still talking?” Ryomen snapped. Satoru let out an irritated grumble, frustrated he couldn’t go on his (ill informed) rant about how classic American literature, and literature in general, was useless. “Y/n wants to come over.” Ryomen informed his frat brothers. “Like, now.”

“What’s up with Y/n?” Suguru asked from his spot on the arm of couch, deciding it was safe to enter the conversation now that there was no hope of Satoru going on his rant.

“No clue, she just says we need to talk.” He grumbled softly as he typed on his phone. It wasn’t like you to be this cagey about anything, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t concern him at least a little.

“Dude, shes gonna break up with you.” Satoru's mouth moved faster than his brain did, and for it he got a swift elbow to the stomach. 

“No she’s not.” Ryomen hissed. “She just wants to talk.”

“It’s probably to make plans for fall break, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Nanami said, quickly getting irritated with all the arguing. 

“Yeah, the dorms close in, what, like two weeks?” Suguru confirmed, “She’s probably gonna ask to stay with your family so she doesn't have to fly back to her own.”

“You’re probably right.” Ryomen took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. That made sense. You got along great with his mom and brother, and your own family basically not at all. It tracked that you would rather drive a few hours and spend a week with people you liked than fly out to people you didn’t. Yeah, that made sense. Yeah.

So why did he still feel so anxious?

🍼🍼🍼

Ryomen had never been more convinced that you were going to leave him than he was now. As you sat across from him on the bed, starring at your fidgeting hands as if they held the secrets to the universe. Something was palpably wrong, he could feel it hanging in a thick veil between the two of you. He didn’t know if he should reach beyond it to hold you, or give you your space and let you come to him. He settled on nervously picking at his nails.

“So, uh, you wanted to talk?” He asked.

“Yeah, I, uh..I’m just trying to think of how to say this.” You muttered. He felt the color drain from his life when you said that. What did he do? Was it about Amy- or whatever the fuck her name was? That was a month ago now, surly it wasn’t that. Was it someone else? That thought made Ryomen realize that actually, he was capable of murder. 

He could feel his jaw clench at the thought of you with another man, white hot rage filling his hands and emotions while images of you with a stranger flashed in his head against his will. What the fuck did that asshole have that he didn’t? What made them think they were worthy of your smile, of your laugh, of you? Who did they think they were?

“Ryomen, I’m pregnant.”

“He’ll never love you like I do.” There was a thick silence of a different variety as they two of you spoke over each other, both of you trying to process what the other said.

“A-are you saying the…baby won’t love me?” You weren’t offended, you were just confused.

“You’re fucking pregnant?” Ryomen could feel his entire world shifting in real time. Thank god you weren’t leaving, but…Pregnant?

“Yeah, that’s what I said, what did You say?” You questioned again, trying to figure out where the fuck that came from. Of all the things you expected him to say, it wasn’t whatever he said.

“It doesn’t really matter what I said, forget I said anything, how long have you known?” He asked, finally pushing past the veil to wrap his arms around you. 

“Like…maybe thirty minuets?” You sighed, rubbing your face as the stress came back. “My period was a week late, so…I took a test, and well…Baby.” You still weren’t sure this was all real.

Ryomen felt the world freeze around him as reality took hold. A dad? He couldn’t be a fucking dad. He was in his fucking twenties, he still had two years left until he graduated, he couldn’t be a dad yet! He thought about his own father, who buckled under the pressure and ran off the moment things got hard. What if he inherited that kind of cowardice? Hell, he didn’t even have the spine to tell his dad to fuck off when he came back in his life after eleven years of radio silence just to completely take control of his future, how the fuck was he supposed to raise a child?!

“Babygirl, that’s amazing!” He smiled, pulling you into his lap and kissing your forehead, “You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

“You think so?” You whispered, taking some comfort in his confidence, It eased your own fear about the uncertain future. 

“Of course I do.” He assured you with the grin that got you into this mess in the first place. Ryomen was fucking petrified of what came next, and he could tell you were too. To him, easing your fear was the most important thing. He could have his own freak out later, right now he needed to be here for you. 

And his words did the trick. Slowly you could feel the tension melting from your shoulders as it settled in that he wasn’t mad, and you weren’t in this alone. “God, I was so scared you where going to leave.” You confessed, feeling the tears pool in the corner of your eyes. His arms tightened around you, holding you like he feared you might be the one to run.

“I’m not going anywhere Babygirl, I promise,” He swore to you, kissing the top of your head, “Wherever you are, that’s were I’ll be. Right next to you and our baby.” His smile was so reassuring, for a second, you actually felt hopeful for the future. He pulled your face to his, and you melted into his kiss.

Ryomen laid with you in his bed, cuddling and talking softly until you finally passed out. He insisted on you staying the night with him, if for no other reason than he found comfort in having you near. He waited until he knew you were in a deep sleep, breathing softly and steadily. He kissed your cheek before he slipped out of bed, into the kitchen for a beer, then out to the balcony to drink it. He was leaning against the old wooden railing, running a hand through his hair as he tried to visualize what his future would look like now.

“So a baby, huh?” He nearly jumped out of his skin at Suguru's voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ, a warning Geto!” He hissed as he took a drink of the cheap beer, giving Suguru the side eye as he leaned next to him.

“Sorry, I’ll make sure to yell at the top of my lungs everywhere I go from now on.” Suguru chuckled softly.

“How do you know we’re having a baby?” Suguru grimaced a little at the pink haired mans question, knowing he got the information through unethical means.

“Satoru listened in on yours and Y/n conversation.” He said as if his ear wasn’t pressed up against the door too, “Sorry.”

“Mmm.” Ryomen groaned, not wanting to accept the apology, but acknowledging it none the less.

“So…whats the plan?” Suguru asked the question no one really wanted to ask, but everyone wanted the answer to.

“The plan is I’m going to be a dad, I guess.” Ryomen grumbled, not really use to the idea yet. He took another drink.

“Well, in that case, congratulations then!” Suguru smiled, taking the cheap beer from Ryomen’s hand and lifting it up, “To the new dad! You’ll do great.” He said as he took a drink.

“Gee, thanks you’re too kind.” Ryomen scoffed.

“Hey man, I’m serious.” Suguru insisted, “I think you’ll be a great dad, if for no other reason than cause your dad sucked. You have the perfect example of what not to do.”

“No I don’t.” Ryomen argued, stress edging into his tone against his will, “My dad wasn’t even there to show me what to not do, he was fucking gone! I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do!” His panic was getting the better of him. He took his beer back and took another drink.

“No one does.” Suguru chuckled, still as calm as ever. “You think this shit comes with a manual? No parent in the long history of parenting has ever known what they were doing. But, you’re worried about it. You’re worried about being a good dad. And that’s further than any shitty parent gets. Probably further than you’re dad got. It shows you care man. And besides, you’ll have Y/n with you. She’s going to be a fantastic mom. If shes got the patience to deal with us, a toddler will be a breeze.”

“I don’t know man. What if…what if I am just like my dad?” Ryomen muttered. He looked just like him. He was going to take over his business. Hell, after his dad forced him to be a business major, Ryomen even changed his last name back to his fathers. It made sense at the time, a Sukuna should be the one to take over the Sukuna family business. But, now? Now that he had to pass that last name on? He wasn’t sure he wanted it. “What if it’s just…in my blood to be my dad?”

Suguru actually laughed at that, hard enough to embarrass the man next to him. “Ryomen, being a shitty person is not genetic I assure you. If it was, Nanami would be a lot more insufferable. It’s not up to our parents to decide who we are as people, that for us to decide and us alone. You’re not your DNA sequencing, you’re the actions that you take and the choices that you make. Your father has no control over that.”

“I mean…yeah. I guess you’re right.” Ryomen muttered, taking another drink before handing the bottle back to Suguru. As cliche as it may have been to say, he was starting to feel better. Maybe he wasn't doomed to be his father. Maybe the Sukuna name wasn’t a death sentence.

“Of course I’m right.” Suguru grinned as he finished off the beer. “So what are you going to do now?” He asked.

“Now?” Ryomen sighed, “Now I need to go talk to my mom.”

🍼🍼🍼

It was a week before Ryomen found the time to make the drive home. A week that he spent attached to your hip. A week making sure you didn’t have to lift up a single thing, a week of threatening anyone who dared smoke around you, and a week of coming to terms with his new future. The two of you had spent the time researching doctors, and on baby forums looking for advice. He was relieved to admit, he kinda became fond of the idea of having a little baby running around. 

He started to imagine what they would look like, what they would sound like, and what their favorite color would be. Money wouldn’t be an issue once he took over Malevolent Shrine International, so he wasn’t worried about that. Honestly, you wouldn't have to work if you didn’t want to, and if you did want to he could afford child care. The two- No. The three of you were going to be okay. He hoped it would be only three.

He knocked on the door of his childhood home, having forgot his key and not being willing to go all the way back for it. Much to his dismay, Yuji answered the door. 

“Sorry, sign says no solicitors.” He said, quickly trying to close the door. Ryomen was fast to push against him, trying to get his body through the crack in the entry. 

“Open the door brat or I’m going to wipe your hard drive.” Ryomen threatened,

“College hasn’t changed you one bit, has it?” Yuji scoffed, sticking his tongue out at his brother. 

“It’s made me more prone to violence, wanna see?” Ryomen growled as he pushed against the door harder. Yuji stood firm though, an immovable object to Ryomen’s unstoppable force. 

“I’m going to tell Y/n you said that!” It was Yuji’s turn to threaten, “I’m also going to tell her that you beat me up! And you’re mean! And that you kick kittens!”

“Why you little-” Ryomen finally got his arm through the small space, almost getting a hand on his little brother before his mothers voice brought the entire show to a halt.

“Are you two Trying to break my door?!” She sounded exasperated, “Yuji, let your brother in!” The moment their mother got involved the boys remembered how to act, with Yuji calmly opening the door and Ryomen walking in like he wasn’t just trying to strangle his little sibling. 

“Hi Mom.” He said, smiling warmly as she came up and hugged him.

“Hi Honey,” She said, giving him a soft pat on the cheek. “Wheres Y/n? I made coffee.”

“She had a test today, she couldn’t make it.” He said. That was a lie. You were completely free, but, he didn't want you here for this conversation.

“Mmm, you know your ears turn red when you lie, right?” His mom laughed as she walked to the kitchen. He followed her with a roll of his eyes, sitting at the kitchen table.

“She was busy, alright?” He defended himself as his mom put a coffee cup in front of him, sitting across from him with her own.

“Sure. So what did you need to talk about sweetie?” She asked. Ryomen took a moment to really study his mom. She didn’t look so different from how he remembered her in his childhood. A few more wrinkles, a lot more gray hair, but still his mother none the less. He wondered how she felt when she realized she was having a baby.

“So, um…Y/n is…” He couldn’t make eye contact.

“Ryomen, don’t tell me you got that poor girl pregnant.” She gasped, putting down her mug and looking at him with demanding eyes. 

“Why would you jump to that?!” He tried to deflect.

“Then tell me she’s not.” She said, looking at him with a scowl that dared him to try and lie.

“....She is.” He sighed, taking a drink from his coffee to get away from her disappointed gaze.

“Sweet Jesus...” His mom sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead. Then she laughed a little, shaking her head with a soft smile she tried to hide behind her coffee cup.

“What?” He asked. She shook her head again.

“Nothing just…well, I guess I was around your age when I had you. A little younger. You can’t really be mad at the apple for not falling too far from the tree now, can you?” She chuckled softly, and it put Ryomen at ease. So she wasn’t going to eviscerate him. Good. 

“Yeah, well…Gotta honor some family traditions, am I right?” He tried to joke, only to be quickly shut up by his mothers disapproving glare. 

“So whats your plan big man?” She asked, “You’re not going to leave her alone with this, that’s for damn sure.”

“No mom, I couldn’t even imagine-”

“Good, cause I’ll choose Y/n over you every time.” She teased. 

“I know mom.” He smiled, “Good to know you like her, cause that makes this question a lot easier to ask.”

“Oh?” He really caught her attention now.

“I was wondering, do you know where Grandmas wedding ring is?” He bit his lip as he finally said it out loud. Even before you were pregnant, every time Ryomen imagined his future, it was always with you as his wife. He couldn’t conceive of a life without you by his side, now more so than ever. He was going to make things right, and unlike his own dad, he wasn’t going to wait for the second baby to do it. He knew he was on the right track when he saw his mothers proud smile.

“As a matter of a fact, I think I do. I think I know where some of your old baby clothes are too, hold on.”

🍼🍼🍼

“Ryo!” You smiled as he walked into the entry of the frat house, carrying a walmart bag of old baby clothes. You were down the stairs and in his arms in an instant, laughing happily as you jumped to him. He caught you with a grin, spinning you around before putting you back on the ground.

“I could get used to that.” He teased. You smiled and rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“I’m sure you could. Ryo, I have amazing news, I- wait, what’s in the bag?” You asked as your brain finally registered that there was something in his hand. 

“Oh, yeah!” He smiled excitedly as he put the bag on the coffee table, “Remember how I went to talk to my mom? She says hi by the way, but look! She still had some of mine and Yuji’s old baby clothes!” He said, pulling out a truly precious onesie, covered in stars and a rocket ship, followed by a red, blue, and yellow stripped jumper.

“Oh baby-” You sighed as you realized your good news might actually not be good news.

“I know it’s not a lot, and its all kinda old and used, but it’s a start, you know? Something to bring the baby home in.”  He said, putting the clothes down and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Baby, I’m not pregnant.” You dropped that like a nuke. He blinked at you as he tried to process what you just said.

“Huh?”

“I’m not pregnant Ryomen, I’m sorry. I got my period.” You said, gently cupping his cheek. You did not expect a reaction like this at all. Confusion, sure, but not…disappointment?

“But I thought you took a test?” He asked, trying to catch up to reality.

“I did, but it must have been a false positive. Apparently that’s pretty common with my birth control.”

“Oh…” He wasn’t expecting to feel so upset about this either. Like the entire world he had build up in his mind was gone. He realized he was going to be mourning the death of someone who truly never existed, and felt so ridiculous about it. He didn’t realize he was tearing up until you brushed a tear off his cheek.

“I’m sorry Ryo…but, hey! Look on the bright side, we get to keep our twenties!” You chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled gently and nodded.

“You’re right it’s just…I don’t know. I kinda liked the idea of starting a family with you.” He confessed softly, an idea that would have made his skin crawl just a little over a year ago. You really did force him to grow up. You laughed a little more sincerely this time, and gave him a quick kiss.

“Sorry Ryo, if you want a family, you’re gonna have to upgrade from the girlfriend package to the wifey bundle.” You teased him. 

“Y/n!” Gojo yelled from up the stairs, “Nanami got tired of waiting for you, he un-paused the game!” You paled as you realized that Nanami was unfairly demolishing you at street fighter.

“Hey! That’s illegal!” You yelled as you ran up the stairs to try and salvage the round. Ryomen watched as you ran away, an unfamiliar fondness growing in his chest. Normally, he would have been unbelievably jealous you were hanging out with his friends- especially without him. Now though? He saw it as a good sign.

“Upgrade, huh?” He muttered, mostly to himself. His hand dropped into his pocket, clutching the ring box there. “Don’t worry Y/n. I plan on it.” He promised as he went up stairs to join you. 

[arlana-likes-to-write]

oh god i think i have an idea for kate x yelena x reader??

maybe something before the 3 kids?

(i was on twitter the other day and i read about people saying the importance of feeling represeted in fics, and i thought about this lately, so uhm from my pov, i would like to uhm propose like a reader with maybe selfharm addiction??? maybe reader doesn't say that she relapsed because kate and yelena have other thoughts like missions and mission reports and hard training and she do not want to be a burden??? but like she doesn't realize that she matters more than all those things to Kate and Yelena and almost towards the end reader can no longer hold the weight inside and one evening she confesses it to them??? gosh this is a lot i know lol

(I HAVE TOTALLY NO IDEA IF YOU WRITE ABOUT THIS TOPICS if not im sorry for the request but this is something that is stuck with me but im getting better, so yeah sorry)

Take My Hand

This is a prequel to Domestic Life but can be read as a standalone.

Warning: mention of past and current self-harm, online bulling, self deprecating thoughts, poor self image, implied sexual content (Kate and Yelena are down bad for their girlfriend), pet names (princess; baby, babygirl)

Breathe. Breathe. Take five breaths in and five out. Your hands shook every time you passed your brush through your hair. The only sound your brain was registering was the music Kate demanded to play so you all could get ready. There was a party at the Avenger Tower; some active Avengers were invited, along with politicians and other top-dog individuals in the city. You weren’t worried about that. You spent so many years in customer service that you could talk to anyone smoothly. It was the media that worried you.

The world knew that Kate and Yelena were dating; they were among the most talked about couples behind Natasha and Maria. You’ve spent hours scrolling through blogs created for them where random people reposted pictures and kept updated on every aspect of their lives. It was a little weird. It was always Yelena and Kate, Hawkeye and the White Widow for a few years. Recently, they’ve hinted at a third in their relationship that many blogs caught on to. That third was you, and for the past five months, the two superheroes kept you out of the public eye. They wanted to keep you to themselves. Everything changed now that Kate wanted to take you on dates.

You were anxious. Compared to the likes of the Avengers, you were a no-one. Just a small-town girl who got lucky their car broke down in your town.

Suddenly, Kate’s arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush to her chest. “Where did your mind run off to, Princess?” Her chest rumbled after each word, and her lips tickled you underneath your ear.

“Just,” you giggled. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” You tried to escape, but Kate held you tighter and rubbed soothing circles onto your skin.

“Princess,” she warned. “You know the rules.” In your opinion, it was a stupid rule, but you knew it was to foster better communication between you three.

“Just nervous,” you answered honestly. Kate nodded your head and hummed in agreement.

“So am I,” she admitted. You looked at her in shock. “I am,” she smiled. “Everyone is going to see how much hotter and cooler my girlfriend is than me, and they are going to convince her to leave me,” she looked directly at you, so you knew who she was talking about. With a roll of your eyes, you faced back towards the mirror.

“You are such a dork, Bishop,” you mumbled.

“I’m telling the truth,” she turned around slightly but still had her arms on you. “Yelena,” she called out. “Tell our girl she’s the prettier one out of the three of us.” How Kate called you ‘our girl’ made you feel warm and fuzzy. Through the mirror, you saw the blonde appeared in the doorway. She decided on a green cocktail dress that matched the color of her eyes. She smiled at you.

“I am ready to keep the vultures off of her,” she said. “Because she is ours.” It was ridiculous. The so-called vultures would be after your girlfriends, and you would have to fight them away. Still, you believed them. It was the way they looked at you, the way they touched you. You never felt more loved.

*

The party was going well. You mingled with team members you saw less frequently and listened to some of the politicians on their upcoming policies. You preferred talking to the Avengers over them. At first, one of your girlfriends stayed with you, but you ensured they enjoyed themselves.

So you were standing with Maria, nursing a drink that Yelena made for you. The blonde had a heavy pour when it came to her bartending skills. Maria told you a story about Yelena and Natasha; somehow, the blonde’s white suit accidentally turned pink when it was Natasha’s turn to do laundry. The sudden smirk on the agent’s face gave your girlfriend away. Kate moved behind you, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath. “Ignore me,” she whispered. “Pretend I’m not here and keep having your conversation.” That was easier said than done, but Maria kept talking, and you tried to focus on it.

Sober Kate was touchy and flirty but knew when to dial it back in public. Drunk Kate was a completely different beast. Her one goal was to make you a flustered mess. She was doing it now. “You look so good,” she mumbled, and goosebumps formed on your skin. “Fuck, I wanna rip this top off and fuck you right here,” you took a sip of your drink to hide the whimper that threatened to escape. “I want everyone here to know you are ours. Too many of these pigs have their eyes all over you.” She was how when she got jealous and possessive.

“Detka,” you weren’t sure when Maria was replaced with Yelena. Her hand was on your chin, and her fingers were cold. A shiver went down your spine. “Are you okay?” You nodded.

“Kate is drunk and horny,” you smiled and ignored the gasp the archer let out. Yelena let out an amused chuckle and leaned closer to your lips.

“I can say I am not surprised with how good you both look,” you watched her green eyes darken before she kissed your lips. Kate let out a breathy groan.

“Would it be inappropriate to leave now?” The archer asked. “I need you both.” You giggled against Yelena’s lips.

“I think we’ve shown our face long enough,” it was all the consent Kate needed before dragging you to the elevator. You pretended to ignore every Avenger’s knowing looks.

Delete Created with Sketch.

A week had passed since the party, and you made it your mission to stay off social media. You focused on your job, studies, and relationship with Yelena and Kate. Everything felt great. When you entered the break room, a few coworkers suddenly stopped talking. “What?” You asked as you opened the fridge to put your lunch in. “Do I have a hickey on my neck again?” Kate left one on your neck when she refused to let you go to work. Your coworkers had a field day for the next few days after.

“No hickey this time,” Tina said with her phone in her hand. “We saw this online and thought you had the right to know.” You took her phone, and you stared at a blog. It was a picture from the party which you’ve seen before. Natasha sent it to you, and you made it your lock screen. Yelena stood in front of you with Kate hanging onto your back. The blonde’s finger was on your chin, and her lips barely touched yours.

“It’s a cute picture of the three of you,” Tina said. Your coworkers knew of your relationship with the two Avengers. It was hard to keep it a secret from them when Kate and Yelena liked to surprise you at work. “It’s the comments we were reading.”

Curiosity killed the cat, right? That was the only part of the phrase people remembered. A part of you knew better to read them. The opinions of random people online did not matter, but you were curious about what your coworkers read. So you scrolled down.

It was nice to see some positive comments. They liked how happy Kate and Yelena seemed. They said you fit in well with them. But it was the negative comments that outweighed the good. To the comments, you were a whore, a homewrecker, a slut, and they could not understand what Kate and Yelena saw in you. They picked at every flaw they saw in the picture.

You handed the phone back to Tina. “You know what they say,” Tina smiled. “Those who pick on others are just jealous and self-conscious of themselves.”

“Right,” you said. “Now, enough gossip,” you teased. “Let’s get to work.”

*

When you entered your shared apartment, it was quiet. Not even the dogs were home to greet you. On any other day, you would be sad that you were alone, but you needed the tie to get your head on straight before everyone returned home.

You went into the bathroom, stripped out of your work uniform, and stepped into the shower. The water ran hot, and you watched your skin turn red from the temperature. When your body was clean, you stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you. You wiped the condensation off the mirror and stared at your reflection.

Maybe the comments were correct. You could stand to lose weight, eat a little better, or change how you dress. The constant battle of your self-image was something you struggled with your entire life. You weren’t the most popular, prettiest, or smartest in high school. Your family lived paycheck to paycheck, so that you couldn’t afford the name-brand clothes. Every day, you compared yourself to those around you, and those on top of the social hierarchy smelt out of your weakness.

They added to your deteriorating self-image. You felt out of control as you slipped deeper and deeper into the abyss. You needed to get control back. One night, when your mother was at work, you took a razor to the thighs and watched the blood form at the surface. It scared you at first, seeing you bleed by your hand. You promised it would never happen again. But it was a habit you could not easily break when it was the only thing to release the pressure on your chest.

The pressure was back. You entered your shared bedroom and pulled out a small gift box from your Black Widow girlfriend. Inside was a knife with her and Kate’s initials carved into the hilt. Before your rational mind took over, you dragged the blade across the top of your thigh. With each cut you made, the pressure was less, and your mind was less dark.

*

You glanced up from the couch when the apartment door opened. The pup’s feet running against the wood made you smile. It was your only warning before a one-eyed golden retriever jumped on top of you. The air was pushed out of your lungs as he covered your face with kisses. “Lucky, stop!” You laughed and tried to push him off. “Get off!”

“Alright, don’t suffocate her,” Kate pulled the dog off of you and wiped the drool off your face with a towel. “Missed you today,” the archer mumbled and bent down to kiss you. You would welcome her lips on your any other day, but today, they felt wrong. The kiss turned your stomach.

“Missed you too,” you said. Kate moved your legs, sat down, and placed them on her lap. The sudden movement caused the fabric of your sweatpants to rub against the bandages. You winced, but both of your girlfriends missed it except Fanny. The American Akita was watching you closely. “I ordered food from that Thai place. I didn’t feel like cooking,” you went back to doom scrolling on your phone and missed the look between Kate and Yelena.

“Is everything okay, dorogoy?” You heard Yelena ask from the kitchen. You hummed in response, barely paying attention to what Yelena asked.

“Hey,” you were surprised by your phone being ripped out of your hands by the blonde. The Russian ignored the pout on your lips and put your phone on the table out of reach. “That was mean.”

“No, what is mean is that there is something wrong, and you are not telling us,” Yelena knelt by your head. “We have this rule for a reason, detka,” you looked at the archer, hoping your other girlfriend would save you. She stayed quiet but squeezed your thighs for support. You huffed, threw your head back, and felt tears burn at the corner of your eyes.

“It’s stupid,” you said. “Work just sucked, and both of you deal with much bigger problems than mine and-” Yelena quieted you with a gentle hand on your cheek as she pushed away your tears.

“Never think your problems at work are less than ours because we do different things,” the blonde said. “They are still important.”

“Besides,” you turned your attention to Kate, a playful smile on her face. “I could never be as polite and nice to some of the assholes you deal with,” she was able to make you smile. “Baby girl, you are a saint in your work.” You rolled your eyes and wiped away some of your tears.

“Do you want me to get you some food, and we can cuddle on the couch?” Yelena snapped her fingers. “We can watch the show with the talking dog and his high human?” You titled your head and narrowed your eyes at the blonde.

“Do you mean Scooby-Doo?” You questioned.

“Yes!” Yelena smiled. “Come, Kate Bishop, help me with food,” the Black Widow dragged the archer to the kitchen. You chuckled and reached for your phone.

Yes, work sucked, so you told the truth. Your mood turned as soon as you read those comments. The half-truth tasted bitter in your mouth. But this was your problem to fix. Yelena and Kate were Avengers, and you were a nobody.

*

“Princess, where are you going?” Kate asked from her spot on the couch. You were putting on your sneakers and placing a leash on Lucky.

“Taking Lucky for a walk. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s Sunday,” she said very slowly. “It’s not your day,” you shrugged.

“Just want to stretch my legs,” you said. “I’ll be back.” You felt the apartment before Kate could say another word. You used the stairs to warm up, stretching as you went down. You broke into a slow jog when you hit the sidewalk.

It was a new addition to your routine. Sometimes, you wake up early or stop by the gym after work. Some nights, you skipped on your sweet treat. If your girlfriends noticed the change and were worried about it, they kept it to themselves.

You were making progress, but you still cringed when you saw yourself naked compared to your girlfriends. Every flaw you saw was heightened, and you felt disgusted by yourself. Each time those thoughts entered your mind, the only way they left was when the blade came out and moved against your flesh.

The guilt was suffocating, and you wanted to climb into your girlfriend’s arms to forget all of your problems. But the dark voices in your head overpowered every rational thought.

*

“That was good,” Wanda said. “Why don’t we call it there?” You felt gross with the sweat dripping down your back, and your muscles ached. Training with Wanda was making faster progress than on your own. There was a deadline. With another gala happening in 2 weeks, you wanted to look better. You needed to look better for your mental health. You shook your head.

“I can keep going,” you said, stretched out of your sides, and took a deep breath. You needed to keep going.

“Breaks are good,” Wanda said. “They help your body recover and prevent injuries.” Logically, you knew she was right. Your body wasn’t used to this training, and you needed to work up your strength and endurance. But your mind was too dark to think logically. She saw you as weak and lesser, just like everyone else in those comments. This was a mistake. You weren’t an Avenger; you were just a nobody who got lucky. Wanda must have thought you were pathetic.

“Yeah,” you forced a smile. “Sounds good. Same time tomorrow,” you left the training area and headed for Yelena and Kate’s room before she could say anything else.

*

“Kate Bishop, give me the cup,” Yelena reached for the smoothie cup, but the archer held it above her head out of reach.

“No!” The archer laughed at the pout on the blonde’s face. “She asked me to make her workout smoothie, and you will put healthy stuff in it. She deserves a sweet treat!” The sound of Wanda’s laughter forced the archer to look away.

“Are you going to help me, Maximoff, or just stand there?” Yelena asked. The witch shook her head.

“I am not getting involved with this. But,” she sat in the empty seat. “I think you both need to check on your other half.” The duo turned serious when she mentioned that you and Kate had placed the cup on the counter.

“Was she hurt?” Kate asked, and her anxiety only lessened slightly when Wanda shook her head.

“Not exactly, but I would go check on her,” Wanda sighed. “I didn’t do it on purpose, but my powers wandered into her mind during the workout. They weren’t very nice thoughts about her image.” Yelena sighed.

“I knew we should have confronted her about this,” the blonde said. “She has been off since we had that Thai food,” Wanda left the couple and told them that if they needed anything, they should come get her. Kate put her hands on her hips.

“It must be bad if she hid it from us. We have that rule.”

“We must be smart about this and get our girl back.”

*

It was only a matter of time before they came to find you. You were sloppy around Wanda and let your thoughts get too loud. You had time to take a shower, change into comfy clothes, and sit on the edge of the bed. Picking at the skin of your thighs helped as it was unwise to take the blade you hid in your side of the dresser. The action was mindless and soothing. You missed the door opening, and Kate grabbed your hands. “Hi, Princess,” the archer whispered. “Are you here with us?” You felt Yelena sit down next to you.

“Yeah, I’m here,” you whispered, and your head fell onto Yelena’s shoulder. “I’m tired.” The blonde hummed in agreement.

“You have been hiding something from us, data,” the blonde softly spoke. “You might feel better if you told us the truth,” you closed your eyes as you felt tears form in them.

“It’s so stupid,” you said. “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey,” you opened your eyes to look at Kate. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that. I think she is brilliant and beautiful.” You smiled at the goofy look on her face. Sighing, you knew it was the right thing to do. Everything felt so heavy.

“A week after the Stark party, a picture of the three of us circled one of those Avenger blogs that report on you,” you took a deep breath in and out. “My coworkers found it and showed me. Some of the comments were awful towards me. They highlighted everything I hated about myself.”

“Why did you not tell us about this?” Yelena asked. She tried to mask the hurt in her voice, but you heard it. You never wanted to hurt them by hiding this.

“I worried if I told you, you would see that they saw and leave me,” you admitted. “I wanted to fix what was broken before you saw it. I am a nobody compared to you.” You angrily wiped your face.

“Princess, take my hand,” you gave one hand to Kate and the other to Yelena. “Nothing about you is broken. Those assholes are jealous and spiteful,” you knew that. You knew that from the beginning.

“But,” Yelena pushed loose hair out of your face and kissed your forehead. “Our mind is our biggest enemy, right?” You nodded. “You are our missing piece. We are whole because of you.”

“But I’m not an Avenger or a hero or—” Kate hushed you gently, moving her thumb across her lips.

“We don’t want you to be a hero,” The archer said firmly. “We want and need you to be you because you are a constant reminder of life outside of fighting and Avenging.”

“You are the reason we come home after every mission,” Yelena added, kissing the tears that fell down your cheek.

“We need you, baby,” Kate smiled. “And we will remind you every day.” She kissed the scars on your thighs, and the simple action caused more tears to leave your eyes. “Where is the blade, baby?” You weakly pointed to the dresser. Yelena quickly stood up and went to find it. Kate maneuvered you to lie down on the bed with her arms tightly around you. There was more to discuss, more things you needed to work through. Right now, you felt safe in your girls’ arms.

*

The night of the Gala, you felt your normal nerves with all the eyes and cameras on you. But Yelena and Kate quieted every doubt that entered your mind. As much as they said they needed you, you needed them.

[coqvttes]

hello!! first of all, congrats on 600!! you honestly are an amazing writer and truly deserve it. anyways i was wondering if i could get a drabble with leon kennedy and lana del rey’s song playing dangerous?🩷 (my thing for hot police officers is at it again 😭)

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 hey! thank you, love, you're the sweetest i really appreciate it! yes, you can, i really love this song and it goes so well with rookie leon, i might turn this into a whole fic! (i mixed the lyrics a little bit to make it fit better)

nsfw : fem!reader, sub!leonish, teasing rookie leon, suggestive.

"everybody knows that i'm a good girl officer"

'knock knock!'

rushing to open the front door, you wonder why on earth someone would be knocking at this hour. you forget to put on something decent and open the door to be met with a handsome police officer. you find yourself looking at him up and down, too busy checking out the man to even think about why a police officer was knocking at your door this late.

"could i help you, officer?" you ask sweetly, fluttering your lashes at the handsome man in uniform. he looks young; he must be new. this town is fairly small and you swear you've never seen him before.

a faint flush adorns his charming features as he fully takes in your appearance, dressed in a skimpy little nightgown with eyes innocent and nervous that gaze up at him. he coughs out of his trance and you finally get to hear his voice.

"sorry to bother you at this hour, i'm officer kennedy, leon kennedy, we just got a call about suspicious activity around here, could i just ask you a few questions, please?"

"no, i wouldn't do a thing like that, that's for sure"

"am i in trouble, officer..?" your voice is meek and your eyes are concerned. you look straight into his eyes and blood rushes right to his dick. his eyes move lower to avoid your gaze but then he finds himself staring right at your cleavage. fuck.

"n-no! it's- i just need to ask you a few things, its a simple procedure nothing serious!" he pries his eyes away from your chest to look at you again.

"tell me, do you always work alone so late?"

he goes over a few simple questions but you don't pay much attention, too busy fiddling with the necklace around your neck as you nod along with him. he finds himself stuttering over his words, unable to concentrate with a pretty girl like you teasing him.

he tries so hard not to stare at your tits peeking out of your skimpy dress with the way you lean in closer to hear what he’s asking, even though you know exactly what he's saying, you just have to make it so difficult for him, don't you?

he notices how you shiver slightly from the chill in the air and doesn't think before he speaks.

"gosh, i'm a little shy standing here in my nightgown​"

"perhaps i could talk to you inside?" his eyes widen at his own words as heat spreads across his cheeks and you offer him a charming smile before nodding. god that sweet smile of yours, it's going to kill him.

that's why he can't help himself when you invite him into your home, offering him a glass of water as you sit ever so close to him on your sofa. your hand resting on his tense thigh as you lean in closer, your tits pressing against him arm. he's realizes how hard he is and then you're making an excuse that its too hot in the room, so you slip off your thin shawl.

let's just say rookie officer kennedy went a little overtime tonight.

[luvfy0dor]

"We're gonna be timeless !!" ♡⁠˖ BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Chuuya Nakahara, Nikolai Gogol

Warning; Spoilers for mersault arc/Fyodors means of communication in his part, soft!Fyodor bc I am goin thru it, relationship intolerance, Nikolais bit isn't in exact correlation w/ the song

Description; Drabbles inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift

A/N; Writing this while trying to figure out what to do for another fic help I'm so nervous the person isn't gonna like it but we ball 🫡 in Nikolais part I tried avoiding saying balls like it was the plague but yk

Love Letters w/ Fyodor Dostoevsky

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “I would've read your love letters every single night, and prayed to God you'd be comin' home alright”

• His love letters are romantic and very detailed, making sure he conveys exactly how much he misses you. He likes to write you short poems, understanding how much your heart swoons at the sweet and romantic words.

• Fyodor writes to you while he's in Yokohama, telling you how his plans are going and his estimated time of arrival at home. He continues this habit, even when in Mersault. He sends letters to you via the manipulated vampire guards, instructing them to take great care of the thin envelopes.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Your heart beats quickly as you made your way to your mailbox to check for a letter from your lover; already prepared for the slight sadness you'd experience should the small compartment be void of a note, yet still excited for the possibility of receiving one.

You excitedly open the door to the mailbox, grabbing the numerous envelopes that filled it. Sifting through them, you start to loose hope before your eyes land on the slightly sloppy handwriting of your boyfriend. You drop the various other things on the table, including bills and junk mail in order to pry open the letter excitedly. You make sure to do it carefully though as not to rip anything.

Once you've successfully separated the paper from the envelope, you lay down on the couch on your front while giggling excitedly. You unfold the paper and start to read the comforting and familiar handwriting, feeling as though this letter was a warm and sweet hug from the Russian man.

“My dearest, Y/N,

I know I restate the same thoughts in every letter I send to you, but I truly miss you more than anything in the outside world, including my freedom. I am perfectly fine in captivity, but it truly makes my heart ache to be without my love for so long. I hope you are doing well and holding up without me, not because I doubt your individuality, but I know just how much you miss me. It is the same way for me in this prison. Even with Dazais company, my heart doesn't feel nearly as full as it does when you are around, my dear. However, when our plan succeeds, we will get the happily ever after we deserve. As for our plans, they are going as intended currently.

I cannot wait to embrace you again and to feel the reassuring sensation of your breathing against my skin and feel your arms wrapped around me so tightly and lovingly. Though I would have went about my plans regardless of your support or not, I still appreciate you staying and supporting this, although I can only imagine it has caused you much stress. No worries though, my dear, we will prevail in the end no matter the obstacles. In the meantime, here is an excerpt from a poem I memorized many years ago, I feel it may catch your interest and reassure you a bit.

Wait for me, and I’ll be back,

Disregard the fate,

In the morning with my bag,

Should you only wait.

They will hardly understand,

How I could survive.

Waiting me from foreign land,

You have saved my life.

Let them say that it’s too late.

What you feeling tells?

I’ll be back, because you wait

Like nobody else.

Again, I miss you dearly. Just in case I needed to rephrase it, my heart will not rest until you are back in my presence, for I feel our souls are intertwined. I cannot wait to reunite with with you, my love. I will see you soon.

Sincerely, Fyodor Dostoevsky”

Your heart couldn't help but flutter as you held the letter to your chest, having rolled over onto your back. Your face is warm with blush as you smile and laugh. It was beyond you how Fyodor could remember all of the information he knew, as well as numerous languages and poetry, but you certainly weren't complaining. After all, your boyfriends sweet sayings made your day every time without fail. With every letter he sent, you only became more impatient for his return.

Eloping w/ Chuuya Nakahara

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “And run away and left it all behind, you still would've been mine, we would've been timeless”

• Eloping with Chuuyas is such a fulfilling act, especially when you don't have people whispering in your ear about how dangerous it could be.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Romantic relationships with port mafia executives as an outsider or regular civilian were frowned upon in the organization, meaning if you and Chuuya were going to be together, you needed to be sneaky about it. The port mafia had connections all over the city, which really limited your options for dates, but you were both content with just lounging in each other's homes.

You loved leaning against his chest on his couch, a movie playing softly in the background as you both cuddled together. You liked cooking with him in your kitchen, making a mess together while giggling and then having to clean it up together. Every time you would just sit in his arms in your back yard, watching the wind blow the flowers and leaves around, was a memory with Chuuya that you were grateful for.

So, when your lover proposed the idea of elopement to you, you were over the moon. You had always wanted to marry him, youve know that he was your soulmate from the get go. Even in a billion lifetimes, you felt as though you would find each other repeatedly. You said yes, ofcourse, and started planning immediately.

It had gone exactly according to plan, too. The both of you wore rather nice clothing for the actual ceremony, exchanging pretty rings and slipping them on to one anothers fingers. The kiss you shared, the first one of your elopement, was like no other. It felt sweeter with emotion and certainly tasted that way, too, because of Chuuyas cherry chapstick. You held each other's hands tightly as you quickly walked out of the courthouse, getting into the car that had been packed with as many necessary belongings as possible, including but not limited to clothing, legal documents, and money.

Sure, the luxury of a port mafia salary was one that would probably be missed by the both of you, allowing a nicer place to stay and finer wines to drink, but you could live with Chuuya in a rundown shack for all he cared. As long as he was with you, he would be perfectly happy. Chuuya is a romantic at heart under his tougher exterior, only letting bits and pieces of that romanticism slip through the cracks.

Chuuya drove with you down long and winding roads, the both of you deciding to end the day by stargazing while sitting on the trunk of the car. You sat on Chuuyas lap, his face pressed against your back. He drew soft shapes on any part of skin within his reach, even tracing out letters and words, spelling terms of endearment such as "my love".

"You know, I don't doubt one bit that mafia affiliates could be lurkin' around here, but it's much less likely. Something like this would be frowned upon real hard back home, which is why I feel I will never regret this decision." He says, speaking straight from his heart, not caring about vulnerability anymore. He had you, and you would be the very last person to take advantage of such a delicate thing.

A grin tugs at the corner of your lips with enough force to change your facial expression immediately. You leaned back into his touch, your hand caressing his that sat against your abdomen, hugging you closer to him. "I won't ever regret it either. I'll never regret any decision I make for you, my love." You softly murmur, looking up at the stars in the beautiful, blue night sky. The blue night sky filled with glamorous and shiny stars, yet they could never compare to the shimmery glint in Chuuyas eyes every time he came around you. The blue night sky that provided a calming darkness in the world, allowing you to further relax against your, now husband's, body.

"I'll always love you, darlin', I'm so happy I can openly have you now." He speaks quietly against your shoulder, almost whispering. You reach your hand back to gently touch his hair a bit. "Me too, my love. Me too."

Crowded Streets w/ Nikolai Gogol

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “In another life, you still would've turned my head, even if we met on a crowded street in 1944”

• Should you meet Nikolai during one of his street performances and accidentally fall victim to his juggling skills (or lack there of) , he would look forward to seeing you around the town and in the streets again to make up for his fumble with an entertaining mini-show.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Walking through the busy streets, your eyes fell upon a tall man, dressed as a jester while standing on the sidewalk. "A street performer." You simply thought, trying to discreetly glance at him without making eye contact and avoid the make believe obligation to give him money. You noticed that he was juggling, tossing three red balls in the rotational pattern while blabbering on about random things to passersby.

You lowered your head as to not look at him or make eye contact as you started to pass him, before you're head jerks right back up at the loud man's voice saying "watch out!". Right in front of your face was one of the red, foam spheres, kept motionless between two bony, lanky fingers covered in the cloth of the mans red gloves.

"Aw, I'm real sorry, darlin'! That sure was close, wasn't it?" He says, his bright, toothy grin glimmering in the sunlight. You nod, inhaling and steadying your heart rate.

"Yeah, no worries though, it didn't actually hit me." You say, a bit embarrassed by the situation for seemingly no reason. He slinks backwards into a completely upright position. "I wouldn't have let it hit you regardless, sweet cheeks." He says as he creates a portal and tosses his props into the yellow opening. He rests his fingers on his chin while examining you. "You've got quite a lovely complexion! You must be quite popular when it comes to romantic affairs, I'm sure of it." He compliments. The other people bustling by make you topple a bit as their shoulders bump into yours. Nikolai gently grabs your hand and leads you away from the crowd into a more spacious area.

"You're quite handsome if I do say so myself. Especially that scar." You say, pointing at the healed wound. He smiles. "Well thank you, how sweet is that." He excitedly beams. He removes his hat from his head and slightly bows towards you. "I have yet to formally introduce myself, I am Nikolai Gogol." He says, adjusting his posture yet again to be standing straight up. You smile. "Hello, Nikolai. My name is Y/n." You smile with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Well then, Y/n, can I ask you if you enjoy quizzes?" He asks, his head tilted, gravity dragging the long braid along with his movements. You furrow your eyebrows a little. "I'm not too fond of the academic ones, if I'm being honest. Silly ones I don't mind." You say with a small shrug of your shoulders. He laughs.

"Perfect! Let me quiz you then, Y/n." He takes your hands in his excitedly. "Are you aware of the difference between a jester and a clown?" He says, his face about the length of a outstretched palms thumb to pinky tip away from yours. You think for a moment before speaking. "Clowns follow a routine, whereas jesters are more spontaneous and satirical, no?" You say, gazing into his eyes, surprising yourself with your eagerness to hear words of confirmation or denial slip from between his crimson painted lips. He pulls back and claps a bit.

"That's right! Marvelous! How smart you are." He says, removing his hat and placing it on top of your head. "Not many people get that right, you know? Many peoples first answer revolves around a jester being a part of a royal court, but that is simply not their differentiating characteristic." He says, patting your shoulder with a grin. You keep eye contact for a couple of seconds before he erupts into a fit of snickers.

"I'm around this area often during the week. You should come see me, I can promise to give you the very best show I can muster." He grins and with that, he is gone through a portal. He has left you there, a bit flustered as you held onto the hat tightly. You suppressed the excitement in your heart before sneaking out into the crowded pathways once again. Maybe you would take him up on that.

[roses-for-rosalyn]

The Old Church Parking Lot

Look, I had an idea for a fic and all the sudden it was 4:00 am. I promise one day I'll write a fic where reader isn't a goddamn pillow princess, but today is not that day. Enjoy my darlings.

word count: 3k

minors dni pretty please 🔞

content warnings: Dealer! Ellie, innocent reader, friends to lovers, drug use 🍃, kissing, teasing, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), reader being a pillow princess

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re joking.” Ellie raises her eyebrows at you like she actually expects you to take it back. “You have been on this earth for 19 years and you haven’t smoked weed?” You shake your head. “Ever?” You can’t help but laugh, her stunned expression doesn’t leave her face. She won’t take her eyes off you despite the fact that she’s literally driving.

“Eyes on the fucking road Els Jesus.” She nods and hesitantly turns back to look at the street. “I just never had the chance I guess.” You shrug your shoulders. “Grew up in a small town, not many friends. We mostly just got drunk. It was easier, and less illegal.” You have no idea why this information shocks Ellie to her core, but there’s something else there, an excitement maybe? 

“We’re gonna fix that. Tonight. I’ll pick you up after work.” She was definitely excited and extremely eager. She pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park. 

“Oh yeah? And where are you gonna get it from, not exactly like there’s a store we can stop at.” 

Ellie looks straight ahead and tales a beat before she answers “I kind of…deal the stuff.” She still won’t look at you. “It’s a side gig type thing, helps me stay afloat.” You can’t say you're shocked. You haven’t known Ellie long, she was one of those friends that you kind of just started spending a shit ton of time with out of nowhere. She was still new to you even though it felt like you’d known her your whole life, you were still learning about each other slowly. 

“Ok that’s…incredibly convenient, but where do we go?” You were both home from college for the summer, hence living with your parents. Ellie turns to face you, she brings her hand up to her mouth and starts biting her nail in concentration. It was an incredibly cute little habit, you could see her brain working to find a solution. 

“We’ll sit in the old church parking lot, I can drive us home after.” 

“Works for me.” You shrug. “See you later I guess.” You smile at Ellie and she has this devilish smirk on her face like she knows something you don’t. 

“God I can’t wait.” Her voice was breathy and low, something you hadn’t heard before, but it was incredibly…attractive. You go to open the car door and step out onto your driveway. 

“See ya.” 

“Bye.” You shut the door and head inside, having no idea what you have just agreed to. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You have tried on your entire closet at this point. You usually weren’t like this with Ellie, normally you couldn’t care less what you looked like, but something felt different between you two lately. The type of different where you felt like you needed to look good when you saw her. You’re not gonna dwell on it though, that would just make everything worse. 

You finally settle on just an old, cropped graphic tee and jeans. It’s something you wore all the time, unfortunately your whole wardrobe was strewn about your floor, so this was the best option. 

Jesus why were you nervous? Probably because you were about to do drugs for the first time. Definitely no other reason. 

You pass the time by doing your makeup. It always helps you relax, makes you feel good inside and out. Before you knew it Ellie was texting you she was on her way. She pulls into the driveway, her headlights lighting up your living room. You begin the trek out your front door to her car. It feels like it takes forever, you go through each motion as if you're moving through water. You finally get to her small car and open the passenger door. 

“Hey princess.” Ellie is smiling ear to ear, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her this elated. 

“Hey.” You can’t help but laugh at her exaggerated expression. 

“You ready? You excited?” She’s still smiling, she looks fucking adorable, it’s ridiculous.

“Definitely not as excited as you clearly are.” You can’t help but be a little nervous trying something new, but you were trying it with someone you trusted. 

“We’re gonna have fun. Promise.” With that she turns up the music and pulls out of your driveway. 

On the way to the parking lot you and Ellie belt out 90s hits at the top of your lungs. The windows are down, the wind blowing on your face and through your hair. It almost completely gets rid of any nerves you had. You look over at Ellie, watching her exaggerated expressions and hand movements. She acts out the words in the song like she’s performing. You can’t help but smile at her ridiculousness.

You pull into the parking lot and Ellie turns the radio down. Her arm reaches over your lap to the glove box. Her arm faintly brushes your thighs as she opens it. She pulls out a little baggie with what you would assume are blunts in it. 

“These are pre-rolls. Normally you would have someone else test them out first. This shit could easily be laced with fentanyl, which can kill you. You don’t know where it comes from, you never touch it first.” She looks at you with a serious expression on her face. “Got it?” You nod vigorously, she is obviously in her element here, trying to teach you everything she knows to keep you safe. “Words princess, that’s the most important thing I’ll teach you tonight.”

“Yup, got it.” Why is this so incredibly hot? The way she wants to make sure you’re safe, she’s acting like a stern teacher and it's severely throwing you off. 

She smiles and then continues “But, since you’re getting it from me, and I know where this has been and where it’s from, we’re safe.” You smile and nod, appreciating the reassurance. She takes the preroll from the baggie and grabs a lighter from the console. 

“So you’ve never smoked anything before?” You shake your head “Ok so I’m gonna light this end,” She taps the tapered end of the roll, “You’re going to put your lips around it like a straw and inhale once to get it into your mouth, and then a second time to get it to your lungs.” 

“That made absolutely zero sense to me.” Ellie laughs, shaking her head. 

“You want me to go first, so you can watch?” Oh god yes. 

“Yeah, that might make it easier.” Ellie nods and brings the preroll to her lips. She lights it with her green gas station lighter and you watch her inhale as she puts the lighter back down. She exhales a cloud of smoke towards you and you are immediately turned on. Why did she have to make exhaling seductive? 

“Your turn.” She hands you the roll and you take it between two fingers. You bring it to your lips like Ellie said. Inhale once, twice. Fuck.

You immediately feel the smoke tickle your lungs and throat. You cough out the smoke rather than elegantly exhaling as Ellie did. God, it fucking burns. 

“Try to breathe through your nose babe, here I brought a water bottle for ya.” You immediately grab the water bottle, trading Ellie for the blunt, you eagerly gulp it down. The water sort of soothes the burn, your violent coughing turning into heavy breathing. 

“You didn’t warn me I’d have a fucking asthma attack.” You cough again while Ellie giggles at your pain. 

“I forgot. But I knew you wouldn’t die, plus the surprise on your face was kind of funny.” She takes another hit and passes it back to you. You try again, but a smaller breath this time. It doesn’t burn as much this time. 

“I also forgot to mention, like how this shit makes you feel. It’s different for everyone really.” You pass the preroll back to Ellie. “Mostly it just makes you relax, but some people get talkative, some get sleepy, and most people get incredibly hungry.” She pauses like she’s thinking of saying something but is holding back.

“What?” Ellie shakers her head.

“Nothing… I didn’t even know if I wanted to bring it up, but like it also can make everything feel incredibly good.” 

“What do you mean?” This seems like it’s going in a direction you and Ellie have never really gone before. Ellie would talk about her sexual ventures with other women on occasion, but you never really discussed anything in detail about yourselves. It’s not like you would have much to add with the sex stories anyways, you just listened to Ellie and nodded. You definitely did not have the experience she had.  

“Like it makes people touching you feel 100 times better.” She sighs and laughs “It basically makes most people horny.” She looks at you with a kind of sheepish look. You wouldn’t expect someone with as much experience as her being shy talking about this stuff. Was she… Blushing? It was hard to tell in the dark, you could have definitely imagined it. 

You start to feel a smile tug at your lips and a warmth slowly floods your body. “I think...it’s hitting.” You giggle at literally nothing, which makes Ellie giggle. “Feels really good.” You breathe out. You caress your own arm, testing Ellie’s knowledge. “Woah.”

“What?” Ellie’s smiling at you, she decided she likes how you act high. It’s probably one of the more adorable things she’s ever seen.

“Touching does feel weird.” You continue to caress your own arm, you can feel the warmth of your own hands grazing across the small hairs of your forearm and it tickles. 

“It’s usually other people touching you that feels weird, but whatever works for you over there.” You look at her and back at your arm.

“You touch me then.” You reach your arm out, eagerly inviting Ellie to come closer. 

“I can’t.” She looks down, taking the last hit from the blunt. She won’t meet your eyes.

“Why?” 

“If I start touching you I can’t guarantee I can stop.” She stops herself abruptly like the sentence was forced out of her. She puts out the blunt before finally looking up at you, her confession lingering in the air between you. She’s searching your eyes for any disgust or rejection. She finds none.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Ellie just looks at you, eyes wide with disbelief. You’re suddenly aware of how desperately your body is craving her touch. Your entire body ignites with a type of electricity, it courses through you causing your skin to become tingly. 

Using your sudden desperation as a sort of courage you climb over to straddle Ellie’s lap. You hold onto her shoulders to steady yourself and Ellie backs the seat as far away from the steering wheel as she can. She keeps looking at you with those wide eyes. She moves her hands to cup your face gently, like she’s convinced you'll disappear. She keeps searching your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation and all she finds is pure hunger. 

She kisses you, her lips are so soft and warm you immediately relax. You move your hands from her shoulders and thread them into her hair and she kisses you harder. She uses her tongue to open up your mouth and you groan at the sensation. She moves her hands down under the hem of your shirt. She grabs your breasts and starts roughly massaging the soft skin. She pulls down one of the cups of your bra and starts teasing your nipple. She pinches it between her fingers and you moan into her mouth at the feeling. She stops the kiss to pull your shirt over your head and immediately continues as she throws your shirt into the passenger's seat. She moves her mouth down and encloses it around your nipple, you gasp at the feeling of her warm tongue sucking and circling your sensitive bud. The ache between your legs has become more noticeable, it’s demanding attention. You start grinding a bit on Ellies lap. The seam of your jeans is barely teasing your clit through your underwear. It was heavenly, but not enough. 

Ellie is trying to devour you. She moves her mouth from your breasts to your neck. Exploring with gentle kisses until she finds just the right spot. She nips and sucks until you're squirming on her lap uncontrollably. 

“Back seat.”  She breathes out. You nod vigorously and climb off her lap and awkwardly maneuver your way to the back seat. You lean up against the car door while Ellie adjusts her seat again to make room. It gives you a moment to breathe before she moves to straddle your waist and continues where she left off. She kisses between your breasts down your stomach, gently making a trail down your body with her lips. She’s so gentle and slow, the feeling of her soft lips on your body is driving you insane. 

She gets to the hem of your jeans and unbuttons them. This is where you start to realize you’re entering uncharted territory. You’re trying not to panic, but suddenly a breathy “Ellie,” Escapes from your swollen lips. She immediately pauses and looks up at you. She sees the slight nervousness in your expression and immediately understands.

“No one’s ever-” You don’t even know how to finish that sentence without embarrassing yourself. 

“I know,” Her face softens “We’ll go nice and slow, tell me when I need to stop okay?” 

“Okay.” You nod and Ellie continues unbuttoning your jeans. Nervous butterflies invade your stomach, despite your altered state. Ellie pulls the jeans off and throws them on the floor. She then takes off her flannel leaving her in a black tank top. Her biceps and veins are enhanced by the moonlight, You can see her muscles flex and move as she does. She moves down kissing along the hem of your panties before placing a kiss on your clit. The sight of her head between your thighs is enough to push the ache in your cunt to an unbearable level. She teases you over the fabric, rubbing her fingers up and down your slit slowly. She brushes her finger over your clit repeatedly and a desperate whine escapes from your mouth.

“I know princess, just a little longer.” Ellie is savoring you like you’re the last thing she’ll ever see. She places light kisses on your inner thighs as she continues to tease you. 

Finally she moves your panties to the side. She runs a finger from your entrance to your clit collecting the wetness that pooled between your legs. You can’t help but whimper, your clit feels ten times more sensitive than usual. Every time Ellie is near it the feeling reverberates through your entire body. She blows out a breath on your cunt and the feeling is heavenly. 

“Doing ok, pretty girl?” She looks up from between your legs and you have to resist squeezing them together at the sound of her voice. It was low and raspy, and every word sounded like honey. 

“Yes.” You nod, your eyes squeeze shut in frustration.

“Look at me.” Her voice was lower, demanding. “I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise.” And with that she lowers her mouth onto your bare cunt. She laps at your clit lightly, she moves her tongue in circles around it, continuing her teasing. She licks from your entrance up to your sensitive bud and begins sucking on it. Your hips immediately buck up towards Ellie’s mouth at the foreign feeling. You are moaning loudly and uncontrollably, you had no idea anything could ever feel this way. It’s almost too much. 

Ellie moves her finger to circle your wet hole, once you relax a little she starts to slowly push her finger into you. She makes sure to be slow and careful. 

“Ellie.” You whine out once curls her finger and hits just the right spot inside you. She continues sucking on your clit and slowly curling her finger inside of you. 

“God you're so tight, you gotta relax for me princess.” You try to focus on relaxing around her finger, once you do Ellie adds a second finger. Your cunt swallows it greedily and you whimper at the pressure of two of her slender fingers inside of you. She sucks at your clit even harder and you gasp out “Ellie please ‘s too much.” 

Ellie pauses for a moment “I know baby, you just have to breathe for me. Here, hold onto me.” She places one of your hands on her arm which is wrapped around your thigh. You do what she says and relax under her. You try to let your body melt into her. “That’s it, you’re doing so well for me.” 

She starts sucking lightly on your clit again. You impulsively use your other had to grab at her hair at the feeling. The pleasure in your stomach is starting to come to a high point, you’ve never felt this before. It was all consuming. Ellie is making little groaning sounds which vibrate through your body. You can feel her start fucking you harder, her fingers hitting that spongey spot inside of you at every thrust. Your back starts to arch while the pressure in your belly grows. Nothing has ever felt like this, it's building to a point so intense you almost start to worry.

“Els, what-” You barely get your question out before blinding pleasure takes over your body. You moan out Ellie's name loudly over and over as she continues to fuck you. It moves in waves, crashing through you causing you to buck your hip into Ellie's mouth and fingers over and over. You whimper and whine each time her fingers move in and out of you. She fucks you through the whole thing until you start squirming away. 

She pulls her fingers out of you and sucks them clean. You stare in disbelief, you didn’t even know someone could do that. Your arousal was covering her lips and chin, glistening. She crawls on top of you to kiss you and you can taste yourself on her tongue. If your limbs weren’t jelly that alone would be enough to make you want to do all of that again. 

“I am so glad you chose to get high with me, you have no idea.” Ellie’s smile is contagious. It has just registered you’ve never seen it like this, laying below her, it felt right. 

“Yea let’s do that again sometime soon.” You both laugh a little. Ellie lays her head on your chest and sighs. 

“Very soon.”

[valley-of-headcanons]

bachelorettes reacting to you getting hurt || headcanons

these bachelorettes vowed to stay with you, in sickness and in health! part two here!

warnings: you get hurt (obv) by: the mines, ocean, farming, tree, electrocution, and animals. if you're scared of that, don't read this :)

requested by: anon! thank you so much for the request! oh how i love comfort fics <3 it was kinda hard trying to figure out unique things that would hurt the farmer so pardon the slightly goofy scenarios 💀 had to screenshot anon message because tumblr hates my guts and won't let me post. anyway, hope you enjoy! :)

abigail

• You told Abigail you were heading to the mines, and it was rather late. She was worried, but she knew you'd be fine. You've done it several times, what would make this time different? Well, seeing as you didn't have enough food to keep your energy and help up ... uh oh. You weren't doing well, pretty beat up at this point. Tons of scratches and more blood than there really should be …

• Once it hit 2 AM, Abigail couldn't rest anymore. She was worried sick about you. Yes, you both were adventurous spirits, but everyone has their limits. So, Abigail got ready to head into the mines to find you. She descended through the floors, searching for you while slicing the monsters. She was more scared than she'd like to admit, and it was evident on her face.

• Once she found you passed out cold on a relatively low floor, she freaked the fuck out. She eventually got you to wake up through enough pushing and shoving. You looked to see your frantic lover's face for only a moment before she pulled you into a deep hug. She wasn't one to be emotional, she didn't like talking about that stuff, but when it came to you ... she loved you too much to hide it.

• “God- you had me worried sick! It's three in the morning- and you were- you were knocked unconscious and ... I was worried I lost you ... you can't do that to me, you had me so worried, I ... God, I sound like my dad ... just- please. Be more careful. I was worried I ... I was worried I didn't have the power to wake you up. Or ... anything did. I'm just glad you're awake, now let's get to Harvey's ASAP.”

• Abigail hurried with you to Harvey's, trying her hardest to stay calm with deep breaths. Despite the blood that was pouring on her clothes, her shaking hands, and her worries ... she stayed externally calm for you. She got you to Harvey's in no time, and he stitched you up with some warnings. Abigail made sure you stuck to them. Yes, she encourages rebellion, but not when it comes to health.

emily

• You decided to do some late night fishing. You had made kind of a big purchase today, so you needed to make up for it with some fish sales. Emily knew where you'd be, down by the beach. You go fishing all the time, it's not like this time would be very different. But when you hadn't come home, and the clock is striking 2 AM ... something was fishy.

• Emily made her way toward the beach, her intuition telling her something was wrong. Something didn't seem right in the slightest. But, she tried to keep her cool, as nothing that bad could've happened, right ...? She's one of the most calm and collected bachelorettes, despite her eccentric nature. She's truly the most emotionally mature. So ... why was she so nervous?

• When she saw you face down in the sand, it all clicked. She raced over to you, taking off her shoes and slinging them across the sand so she could get to you faster. She turned you over, trying to get you to respond. Worry laced her expression, trying to think of what to do. She had to learn CPR to work at the Saloon, so she decided to try it. She's out of practice, but ... when your eyes popped open, coughing up sea water and sand, everything seemed to be remotely okay.

• “Jeez- you had me worried for a second there! We've gotta get you to Harvey's tonight, you crashed out. I should've told you that something didn't feel right about fishing tonight, but I thought it'd be okay ... that's behind us. Right now, we've gotta get you back to health! Let's get to Harvey's. I'll be your crutch, 'kay?”

• As she helped you to Harvey's, she was a bit nervous but she knew you'd be fine. You were in good hands, and no matter what, something like this couldn't take you down. So, after getting to Harvey's, she sat by your side and held your hand as Harvey checked everything out. She trusted that fate knew what it was doing, and it did. She knew something this simple couldn't take you down.

haley

• Bright and early, you needed to do some work on the farm. Haley had opted to stay in the bed, claiming to need her beauty rest. Even though she didn't need it, you let her rest. You didn't need your partner sitting on the porch for you to do farmwork! It's not like you were a toddler who needed to be supervised, right? ... right?

• Haley woke up about an hour or two after you had, fixing herself some morning tea and admiring the scenery. She gazed out the window, looking at the beautiful life you two had created together. She was really proud of you, and the life you provided for her, even though she didn't say it nearly enough. She was shook from those thoughts when she noticed that you weren't tending to the farm like you normally were. You were laying in it. Not moving.

• Essentially launching herself out of the cabin in a robe, she ran to your side. Haley was screaming and panicking, dragging you out of the crops and sitting by your side. She shook you, trying her hardest to get you to wake up. She didn't know what was happening. Heat stroke? An undisclosed illness she didn't know you had? But then she noticed the already forming bump on your forehead ... you hit yourself in the head with your hoe? Really? Once your eyes began to open, she hugged you really tight before letting you have it.

• “Babe! How did you hurt yourself with a hoe?! You've got to be more careful! You're so- ... you're so stupid. I love you, you've gotta take better care for yourself! What if I hadn't seen you and you suffocated or something! I can't be around all the time! ... let's get you to Harvey's to get you checked out, dummy ... no, I'm not mad. My nerves are just super heightened now ... you know I worry about you, right?”

• Haley took you to Harvey's hoping that you hadn't done significant brain damage. When she knew that you were fine, she apologized for freaking out and giving you a kiss on the cheek. She'd still tease you about it, but she didn't raise any more hell. She was genuinely worried about you, and she doesn't respond to stress well.

leah

• Leah was hard at work on a sculpture, chipping away at the driftwood on the table in front of her. You wanted to do something nice for her: cut down a tree and give her the wood for her projects. She gives you so many things, so it's time you give her something in return! So, you set out on this journey, unbeknownst to Leah. She started to get a bit worried when you hadn't been around in a while, though …

• She had gotten so sucked into her work, she didn't realize that you had been gone for so long. It was getting pretty late, where could you be? She racked her brain for answers as she stood, calling out your name. She looked across the farm, not seeing you. Her last resort was to head into town, but she needed to drop by her old cabin for some materials. So, she headed through Cindersap Forest. She didn't expect to see you, helpless under a cut down tree.

• Leah's heart raced as she called your name, rushing by your side. Her first course of action was to pull the tree off of you, huffing and puffing but eventually getting it off of you. She looked over your body, seeing that you were mostly unharmed aside from maybe a broken leg. The tree must've hit you on the head on the way down. She dragged you to Harvey's without waking you up, she knew that this was probably dire. You woke up to Leah sitting beside you in the hospital.

• “Hey love, you scared me there ... I was worried I had lost you. What happened? ... ah, I see. Please, be more careful. I can lend you a book on how to more carefully cut trees? ... I love you. I don't say it nearly enough, even though I think I say it all the time. Please get some rest and get healed up, Harvey's gonna take care of you. No, don't apologize, you're fine hon.”

• After Harvey put your broken leg into a cast and explained how to properly take care of it, you looked over to Leah. She smiled at you softly, holding your hand. You knew that you were in safe hands with her. She was going to make sure you were taken care of, whether you liked it or not. She wasn't going to rest until she knew you were better.

maru

• Maru was working on a big project and needed some batteries. You were happy to provide! The lightning rods on your farm were the best way to go about it. Finally, you woke up to a rainy day! Maru was already hard at work in the home, so you went out to do your chores. Batteries were ready! You just had to grab them, and- pzzzt!

• She was very sucked into her work, not noticing that you had been gone for a remarkable amount of time. About midday, Maru got up to get herself a drink of water. She started to wonder about how you were doing and where you had gone, so she decided to step out into the rain to look for you. She didn't expect to find you laying in the dirt beside the lightning rods.

• Maru rushed over to you, pulling you away from the lightning rods and looking over your body. You were breathing, but you were definitely out. She tried to wake you up, but nothing. This was out of her nursing expertise, so she dragged you to Harvey's, slowly but surely. She got you there shortly, letting Harvey take care of you and helping him to the best of her ability. When you woke up, she was right by your side.

• “Hey hon, did you get electrocuted? ... yeah, I got you to Harvey's. Yes, you're fine, I assume you hit your head hard on the fall down. Is there anything else that feels odd? ... yes, you have a minor concussion, but I'll be home to help you out. You worry me, farmer ... I love you, though. You keep life interesting.”

• Maru followed Harvey's orders exactly, making sure you were on the way to recovery. She kept you fed and medicated for your pains. Taking care of someone is not something Maru normally does, despite her being a nurse. But she knows what to do and tries her hardest, giving you small little kisses in between your requests. She shows her love for you by doing everything you need.

penny

• You were going about, doing your daily chores while Penny was out with Jas and Vincent. This was the usual, despite your married life. You were working with the animals, as per usual. Tending to the cows and chickens was a daily chore, but it wasn't too bad! But sometimes, accidents happen. Sometimes you get accidentally kicked pretty hard by your cows. Y'know, it happens, right?

• Penny made her way home after working with the kids, waltzing into the cabin with a spring in her step. She didn't see you out on the farm, so she assumed you'd be home. She was surprised to see you not in the cabin, so she glanced back outside. She tilted her head, wondering where you could be. Well, in the meantime, she could go say hi to the cows! She loves the animals on the farm, and she can't wait to see them. She didn't expect to see you knocked out against the wall of the barn …

• Fight or flight mode kicked in on Penny. She stared at you for a moment, analyzing your breathing. You were alive, probably not too badly hurt, but definitely passed out. She shook off the panic, trying her hardest to push through despite the tears pricking at her eyes. She tried to shake you awake, but nothing. She knew she couldn't get you to Harvey's by herself ... so, she had to bring Harvey to you! She ran at full speed down to Harvey's, begging him to come visit the farm for you. She brought him to you, and he checked up on you in the barn. Penny sat right by your side as you woke up.

• “Love, I'm so glad you're awake! You had me so worried, I didn't know what had happened! I-I ... God, I'm so glad you're okay ... did one of the cows hit you, or something? ... hmm, I didn't expect that, that's really weird ... but, I will be right by your side until you feel better! Harvey said you had a broken rib, so I'll be taking care of everything that I can for you! ... just rest up for me, okay?”

• Penny stayed by your side for your entire recovery, helping you with anything you could ever need. You're so important to her, and it shows through every action. She would drop on her hands and knees for you if you asked. She cares so much for you, and she wouldn't dare put you in any discomfort! Penny is an incredibly devout wife.

[speedingkamori]

hi!! saw in ur rules u write for yandere content👀 if ur down for it, could you write for yandere scout?? lowkey obsessed w ur jealous fic so maybe you could piggy back off that?? just a though?? thank you !!! -🐌

Bandages | Yandere!Scout x reader

Unofficial sequel to: jealousy

Warnings: obviously yandere (possessiveness, extreme jealousy, anger, maybe a little bit of gaslighting… etc), SLIGHT medic x reader if you squint.., not proof read and probably not very good ;-;

I’m glad someone liked it lolol I mentioned before that I haven’t written anything in foreverrr and am very rusty- especially when it comes to things that aren’t fluff @_@ Also SO so sorry for the wait, genuinely did not mean to take this long ugh </3

Scout was ecstatic- over the moon! Now that you we’re finally his, things we’re starting to look up. For the longest time he was being eaten alive by his own unrequited love, sinking deeper into this sickening feeling he had in his gut every time he saw you- but now you belonged to him! He finally had you!

You’d been together for a little while at this point and he expected this awful feeling to go away once he had settled into your new relationship, but to his surprise it was only getting worse.

He felt his stomach drop anytime he saw you talking with any of the other mercs. The way they patted your back when you did good out on the field, the way you’d laugh when they told some stupid joke. God, it was disgusting.

After a particularly tough mission he watched as the medic pulled you into his office, gently tending to your wounds.

“You’re really banged up…” Medic remarked, a small chuckle slipping from his lips. “Not to worry, you’re in good hands!” He had his usual crazed smile as he tended to you.

Scout couldn’t take it anymore and cleared his throat to announce his presence.

“Is all that really necessary, Doc?” He huffed, leaning in the door way.

Medic was a bit taken aback by his questioning, but before he could answer you stepped in, excited to see your boyfriend after such a hard battle.

“Jer!” You smiled excitedly. “You came to check on me? Do you care about me or something?” You teased as he let himself into medics office, wrapping an arm around a bit too tightly.

“Course I did, I was worried sick. Glad to see you’re holding up okay.” He wasn’t lying entirely. He knew you’d be fine, what really worried him was you being alone with Medic. I’m his mind everyone wanted you to themselves the same way he did, he had to make sure they didn’t try and take you away.

“You ready to get outta here?” He asked the question as if you weren’t receiving medical treatment. You turned back to Medic, giving him a nervous, but sympathetic smile.

He rolled his eyes, sighing at your antics. “Young love.” He remarked. “Ja, I suppose you’re good to go- just take it easy for the next couple days.”

“Thanks, doc!” You jumped down from the desk excitedly. “You’re the best.”

That set something off inside Scout, he clenched his fist tightly as he felt this rage bubbling up inside him. You grabbed his hand, temporarily snapping him out of his trance as you lead him out of the office. The door shut behind you and he stopped in his tracks, his hand slipping from yours.

“Aw- sorry doll, there’s somethin’ I need to talk to Medic about…” he pressed a firm kiss to your temple that seemed to linger a bit longer than normal. “Why don’t you head back to my room and relax a little bit, I’ll meat you there soon alright?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head as you toddled off. It was pretty late and you were tired, you had 0 issue getting all comfortable in bed.

Once you were out of sight his sweet expression fell as he re-entered the medical wing.

“Hey, Doc.” He spat. “I gotta bone to pick with you.”

Medic looked up from the supplies he was cleaning up. He sighed in annoyance, not wanting to deal with Scouts shenanigans.

“Alright, but make it quick.”

“I don’t like the way you keep feelin’ up my girl.” He hissed. “I see the way you look at her, but she’s with me! So back off.”

Medic couldn’t help but laugh. “You can’t be serious…” he looked down at Scout, seeing the anger in his eyes, he sighed again and rested his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Look, I understand, you are jealous and insecure-“

Scout slapped his hand away, grabbing him by the collar.

“This ain’t about me! This is about you.” He snarled. “I’m tellin’ you nicely to back off, this’ll be your only warning. Don’t make me get ugly.”

“Du bist ein verlorener Fall…” Medic pushed Scout off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, fine. I’ll- I’ll back off.” He wasn’t taking Scout very seriously at all but he was honestly too tired to deal with any of this. Despite this, this was a satisfactory answer for Scout and he seemed to let up a bit.

“Glad we have an understanding…” he huffed. Without another word he turned and left quick.

Medic watched him leave, shaking his head disapprovingly. “There’s something wrong with that boy…” he remarked to himself.

Scout walked away with his heart pounding on his chest, still a bit angry from the perceived competition. In his mind it was obvious that everyone wanted a piece of you- I mean how could they not? You were perfect!

He paced back and forth outside his own door- he knew you were in there waiting for him. He was mulling over every detail, trying to figure out exactly what to say to you. He had to keep you no matter what, he couldn’t let anybody else get in the way. He sighed, relenting as he finally entered.

“Hey dollface. Ya miss me?”

You were obviously excited to see him again and quickly pulled him in, placing a kiss to his cheek.

“Course I did.” You smiled.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to take so long I just-“ he stopped himself, thinking for a moment before he let out a small sigh. “I got to talkin’ with Medic and I guess I just got wrapped up in everything…”

“What’d you talk to him about?” You asked it so innocently, not realizing you had taken the bait he set out.

“Just checkin’ up on an injury from awhile back- no biggie.” He shrugged a bit, scrunching up his nose. “But he made a few weird comments about you after you left and- I mean I couldn’t just ignore that.”

You seemed a bit taken aback, your expression immediately falling. Sure, he was a bit eccentric but Medic had never once made you feel uncomfortable.

“What? What kinda stuff did he say?” You laugh nervously, hoping it wasn’t anything bad. Scout say you down on the bed and began to tell you all the uncomfortable remarks the doctor had made. He held your hands tight and said everything so earnestly- you had no reason not to believe him. He had never given you a single reason to doubt him.

“Of course I had to speak up, I mean, I’m not just gonna let this creep disrespect my girl…” he pinched your cheek a little, in an attempt to make you feel better or lighten the mood.

“Thanks, Jeremy.” You let out a heavy sigh, hanging your head. “I-I don’t even know what to say…”

“Hey, you don’t gotta say anything.” He reassured you, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’ve dealt with it. You don’t gotta worry about him no more… if you want next time you get hauled in there, I’ll come with- keep watch and make sure he doesn’t try nothing.”

“You’d really do that for me?” You asked quietly.

“You kiddin’? ‘Course I would!” He held on to you tighter, running his hand up and down your back gently. “I’d do anything to make sure you’re safe…”

You laughed softly. “Thanks Jer. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Apart of him felt guilty, for slandering Medic the way that he did. But it was all for you, right? He had to do whatever it took to keep you safe, even at the expense of the other mercs.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi. I’m sending this anonymously but if tumblr glitches and it isn’t anonymous please don’t post this because I’m absolutely completely entirely mortified.

I’m 20 FtM. About a year and a half ago, when I moved out and started at college, I discovered fandom, and began to get really into reading fics on AO3. My parents had heavily restricted my internet access growing up, and as new adult I began to discovered the barrage of content online.

Soon enough, I was spending about an hour or two every night reading smut fics. I never thought anything of it, because, well, it’s just words, it’s not *actually* porn, right?

Recently I did start watching some explicit videos but tried to limit myself to only once or twice a month because the shame I felt as well as the strange dissatisfaction just wasn’t worth it.

After doing some research, I found a study that said that watching porn for more than an hour a week was unhealthy. I thought, yeah, okay, fair enough.

Then I realised: does my fanfiction reading count as pornography?

I kept thinking to myself that because it was text it didn’t count, but —does it? Is that the reason that lately I’ve been feeling strangely dissatisfied and empty after reading/watching? Will I feel like this when I eventually have sex?? (still a virgin, mainly for dysphoria reasons)

I found all this stuff online that says porn addictions can screw you over for life, that you can’t find sexual satisfaction with a partner.

Should I cut back?

I don’t normally masturbate while consuming porn. I feel too ashamed. I normally just sit there and read/watch.

Am I a porn addict?????? Should I quit reading smut? Help.

If you can’t tell, I wasn’t raised in a very sex positive environment and I feel very ashamed. I don’t really know who to talk to and I just feel very guilty so I’m resorting to an anonymous ask on Tumblr.

If you read this, thank you for taking the time. I appreciate it.

— Jason

hi Jason,

I don't think you're a porn addict. I think you're probably just an anxious 20 year old from a pretty restrictive background and now that you have a little more freedom you're kind of nervous about it, which is very normal.

I want to be super clear: written porn is porn. porn is any sexually explicit material designed to titillate; it's existed since WAY before the moving picture existed and it will exist long after the internet has crumbled to dust. people like porn! and it's okay to like porn. the text-based stuff is particularly high on the list of porn that's pretty unambiguously fine, morally-speaking, because you never have to worry that the performer you're watching has had their video stolen by pornhub or that, god forbid, anyone onscreen isn't a willing participant, but I want to be super clear that liking sexually explicit photos or videos of real people is also 100% fine.

obviously I have no idea what study you read, but I'd be cautious about any study being boiled down to such black and white, attention-grabbing headlines. you can interpret a study to mean virtually anything if you want to, and there are a lot of interest groups with a vested interest in demonizing porn. if reading smutty fan fic makes you happy and isn't interfering with the rest of your life, you should do that.

unfortunately it sounds like it's not making you happy lately, dissatisfied and empty feelings. in the kindest way possible, I don't think much of that is being caused by the porn itself. it sounds like it's coming from your gnawing worry that you're a porn addict. maybe it's best to take a little step away from porn and smutty fic for a while, if only until you feel able to engage with it without feeling bad.

also, speaking of porn addiction: that's a very dubious condition, and one that's not scientifically or medically recognized. to be certain, people can develop a reliance on porn that disrupts their daily function and can wreak havoc on their lives, but that's true of anything that causes your brain to spit out happy chemicals. anything that become a maladaptive coping mechanism, including and especially things that are fine and even necessary in small doses. sleeping, exercising, and going shopping are all things that can be life-ruining if done to harmful excess, but that doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong if you like to sleep in, go for runs, or browse your favorite online stores every once in a while.

if reading smut isn't causing you to skip out on your more important obligations, fail to take care of yourself, or bringing on bankruptcy, I think you're probably alright. the biggest danger I see here is you beating yourself over the head with your own anxiety about this, which may be a sign that it's a good idea to take a step back for entirely different reasons than you were worried about.

[dawnisdreamlanding]

CHAPTER 2

Ghost x Reader x Konig

Neighbor! and Roommate!au hehe

About me | Masterlist |

Author's note: Happy Hanukkah! I'd like to say THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT FOR THE FIRST PART AAAA!! I've been wanting to write fanfics for agess but I was always too nervous to hahahdsf so all the support means so much to me, especially for it being my first fic. But less talk, more story, I hope you enjoy part 2! <3

‘Why am I meeting so many tall, buff guys today? Well, not that I’m complaining,’ you chuckle inwardly. Konig’s so tall that when he greets you, he bends down slightly. Talk about being short. You mentally shake that thought away before smiling and telling him to follow you to your apartment.

Everything goes smoothly, and he ends up moving into your apartment the following week. It takes him a couple of days and a little head-banging on the door frame due to his height for him to get used to your shared apartment.

It’s been a month since then. You learn he’s from Austria, and he starts to call you ‘Maus’ which was self-explanatory. But you never really learned anything else other than that. So, to recap, both your neighbor and roommate are both silent and secretive. And they’re hot. You quickly shake that thought away. You shouldn’t be thinking about them like that!

Speaking of Simon, you haven’t seen him for a couple of days. You wonder what he’s doing. After a few extra moments of silence, you realized you’ve spaced out from doing your work. Your gaze lands on the long list of emails you’ll be needing to respond to by tonight, followed by the time on your computer on the bottom right of the screen. ‘7.43 pm’. Ugh, this looks like you’ll be staying back late in the office tonight.

It’s already been a few hours since the last of your coworkers said goodbye to you, and the office lights has been turned off except for your section of the office. The darkness surrounding the office was a little unsettling if you were being honest, but you pressed on with answering those emails. Your phone buzzing makes you jump in your seat and the bright screen in contrast to the surroundings makes you squint a little.

Oh, Konig’s calling. You pick up the call and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to hear someone’s voice after hours of overtime. The line’s a little staticky, but his voice comes through the phone. “Hello, Maus? Where are you?” Konig sounds worried. “Hey Konig!” You try to sound a little upbeat, but your exhaustion comes through nonetheless. “I’m working overtime tonight; I’ll be coming home late.”

Home. You don’t know when you started referring to your apartment as ‘home’, since you’ve always thought your apartment felt so soulless since you moved in. If you think hard about it, the emptiness of your apartment only ever seemed to disappear when Konig’s large frame started to fill in the empty space in your apartment. Despite not knowing much about Konig’s life, the two of you spend quality time together, bonding over shows on Netflix ranging from ‘The Good Place’ to ‘Emily In Paris’. Though you’d have to admit, the more mind-numbing the show is, the more entertaining it is when you hear all Konig’s quips and comments while the two of you watch it. God, you wish you were hanging out at home with Konig now.

“Maus?” Konig calls me once again, snapping me out of my train of thought. “H-huh? Sorry could you repeat that?” I reply. “It’s looks like its about to rain hard tonight, do you need me to bring you home?” his voice gets a little more staticky by the second, and you’re only able to get out a “it’s fine” before the power in the office shuts down.

“Oh hell no,” you say out loud to yourself. You watched enough horror game playthroughs to know that you’re not staying a second longer in office if you want to see another day. Your line gets cut off and you groan. If this isn’t the start of a horror movie.

You managed to exit the office without tripping in the darkness with being little on edge. Little droplets of rain start to fall to the ground, slowly painting the pavement a darker shade of grey with each drop. Your line comes back and you were seconds away from calling Konig to ask him to drive you back home but then a hulking figure leaving the nearby grocery store enters your field of vision.

You are quick to look at this guy because who the hell is he and why is he dressed in all black at night, looking like a robber? Oh my god is he a robber? Oh, it’s your neighbor, Simon. You should really stop bumping into him in such shady situations.

---

Simon ends up driving you back to your apartment complex. This time around, you try to talk to him the car ride there. In between the awkward silences, the two of you managed to bond over some shared bands playing on the radio and you learn that he’s from the military.

“’s not fair that they’re makin you work overtime like this.” Simon grumbles out. “Yeah well, what can I do? Besides, they pay me quite well.” You reply. It was true; the company you worked is quite taxing at times, but the benefits and pay holds you back from quitting.

“Well,” he inhales as he puts his car into park. “If you ever need a lift home, just let me know.” His offer puts a smile on your lips. For someone who you’ve gotten to really know in the span of a 20 minute car ride, he has a heart of gold. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

He has the manners to walk you back all the way to your apartment — you ignore the fact he lives literally right next to you — and makes sure you enter your apartment safely before unlocking his own door.

 You sigh and drop your bag onto the floor. Your eyelids feel really dry and the constant urge to get some shut eye makes the tasks of getting ready for bed seem to stretch on for far too long. Part of you debates on sacrificing dinner so you can sleep a little earlier but that’s when you hear Konig call out for you in the kitchen.

“Eat.” He speaks. “I cooked dinner for the both of us, but I didn’t know you were staying in the office.” A slight pang of guilt shoots through you at the thought of Konig waiting alone at the dinner table for you to come home. “Thanks, Konig.” I smile at him. “I’m glad to be home.”

Konig tries to ignore the warmth that creeps up on him during moments like these. His eyes naturally drink in the sight of you sitting across the table, happily munching on the food he’s cooked you. Fuck, maybe being a househusband wouldn’t be so bad, especially if its for you. He quickly shakes off that thought. He kills. He likes to kill. What was he even thinking?

“Emily in Paris?” he suggests when you finish your dinner. You sigh and shake your head. “Sorry, too tired, Ko.” The nickname slips out of your mouth so easily that you don’t notice it, but he does. His body freezes up and his brain short circuits. He’s so focused on the nickname you used for him that he doesn’t even feel sadness when you rejected his suggestion. He hums in acknowledgement.

“Maybe this weekend?” You say and he nods, watching you turn to head into your room. He decides not to tell you he’s leaving for work that weekend. Leaving to kill people. “Next weekend.” He confirms. You smile tiredly at him and the warm yellow light illuminates your features. “Goodnight, Konig.” God, he wishes you could call him Ko again. “Goodnight, Maus.”

Taglist! @gojo-mochi

[joshusten]

honeysuckle (guy/honey, redacted audios)

Guy is having not-so-wholesome thoughts about his recently turned roommate-to-lover.

NSFW CONTENT!! (minors dni pls!)

(suggestive, making out, dirty thoughts, implied sexual content at the end)

3.2k+ words [ao3 link] [masterlist]

[cw/notes: idk man guy is horny and theres a lot of horny stuff but it's not SUPER explicit (i think) and plsplsss im asking for feedback bc this is the first time writing something this suggestive hope u enjoy!! OH also as always theres probably grammatical errors and guy might be OOC]

A HUGEEE thank you to the wonderful @slushiepizza for all the amazing suggestions and support throughout writing this fic!! this rlly would not be finished without ur help thank you for ur service in providing quality guy/honey content SHAKING U RN ILY!!!

Guy is a daydreamer.

Ask anyone who knows him, from his grade school teachers to his apartment neighbors, and they can attest that Guy never seems to run out of topics to talk about. Never a dull moment, much less a dull idea to mull over when he’s around.

In fact, his imagination is something he prides himself in. After all, as an aspiring writer, it’s what gives the very soul of all of the stories he wants to share with the world—whether it’s the exciting plot of a potential novel he has been writing (and rewriting) all night throughout the week or an epic fantasy he was able to make up on the top of his head and narrate to the kids by the playground of the middle-school he makes deliveries to.

Guy is a daydreamer. 

And it might be the very trait that would be the root of his current predicament.

Slow hands, languid movements

“Does this feel good, Honey?”

Heavy breaths, sharp gasps

“You can get r-rougher, babe. I can take it…”

Warm bodies, warmer lips

“M-mhm, Guy…”

Fuck. Their lips…

“Guy?”

Fuck.

“Guy!”

Fuck.

“Hello? Earth to Guy? You with us, buddy?”

Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit.

“Wh-wha-what? H-hi! Yeah, of course I am. I am here. On the earth. Present. With you guys,” Guy cleared his throat awkwardly after seeing the unconvinced, deadpan looks on his co-workers' faces. Rosa specifically had her brow raised in suspicion to which Guy responded with a nervous smile. “Uh, what’s up?”

“What’s up,” The woman repeated, “Is your constant staring into space! You almost burned the dough if it weren’t for me keeping an eye on you! I’m used to your head in another world but you’ve barely said a word for the past few hours!” The others nodded in agreement. 

Rosa's hard eyes softened, “Is everything okay with you? Something botherin’ you or what?”

Right. Dough. Pizza. He’s making pizza. He’s kneading dough. The flour clinging to his hands suddenly felt heavier, the scent of basil overwhelmed his nose and the chattering of the customers increased in volume but that meant that everything was starting to make sense. He took in his surroundings, which were quickly clearing up for him, to finally decipher that he was still in Max’s, in the kitchen and it was still his shift.

Definitely not with his recent roommate-to-lover and definitely not in their dimmed bedroom, straddling them on their bed with a delightfully sinful expression painted on their face as his shaky hands slowly creep up between their—

Oh my god.

The very thought of them already leaves Guy's legs feeling like jelly. These daydreams had been a problem for him for quite some time. It wasn't like it was a crime to get all hot and bothered over his partner! Yet, lately, an unexplainable sense of shame builds inside him whenever his mind wanders to more…impure scenarios with them. 

Because despite what anyone might think of him and how he jokes about it, he's a little scared of being intimate with someone—no—with Honey.

Oh fuck, someone asked him a question.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a lil’ tired, I guess.”

And he isn’t lying, really. The fatigue of making pizzas and serving tables was no joke and, with all the very interesting fantasies occupying his mind, his shift slightly just got more difficult to get through than what he was used to. (Thank god he's not on delivery duty right now. He's self-aware enough to know he would get into an accident with his current situation)

His co-workers still looked suspicious but accepted his answer nonetheless, hurriedly going back to their tasks to avoid the wrath of their manager. The man let out a sigh of relief as he resumed his own tasks for the day.

As his grueling shift came closer to an end, he was more than ready to take the apron off and get the absolute fuck out of that kitchen.

—

Guy might actually be the first person in all of Dahlia to dread coming home to an apartment that he shared alongside his (literal!) dream partner who was waiting for him after a long, tiring day at work.

Honey, who was all bundled up in a blanket on the couch, paused the show playing on the T.V. to face their boyfriend and properly greet him, “Hey, welcome home. How’s work?”

“It was shit. Did you eat already?”

He saw them already heading their way to their small kitchen, reaching for something in the refrigerator. “Yeah, I left some for you in the fridge. We can heat it up if you want?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I ate back at the restaurant. What are you watchin’?” But before he could get a reply, Guy’s body stiffened when he felt a light shock from where Honey had suddenly touched his upper arm. 

Light touches.

Heavy panting.

Hot air.

“Oh, f-fuck, Guy. Do that again, hon. Please. Don’t stop, don’t—”

“ —think I didn’t hear you, mister! What do you mean your day was shit?” If Honey had noticed their boyfriend flinching at the mere tap on his shoulder, they didn’t comment on it. 

“U-uhm,” He coughed and shrugged lamely to hide his reaction. “Just the usual stuff.” The man put down all his stuff on the nearby coffee table. “C-can I just lay on your chest for a while? If it’s okay with you.”

Despite Honey’s aloofness, they can recognize when their partner is truly in need (And who could say no when their boyfriend’s usual chaotic self sounds so adorable being shy?) The gentleness in their gaze was enough to calm Guy’s frazzled mind, even just for a bit, before sitting on the sofa and patting on the empty spot beside them, albeit looking quite unsure on how to comfort him.

“C’mere. Do…do you wanna talk about it?"

Guy simply shakes his head before letting himself crash onto the couch and into his beloved's (with the second "e" pronounced!) welcoming arms—or, at least, what welcoming might look on Honey. He can feel the rigidness of their posture, remembering how awkward they can be with physical touch, yet here they are, going out of their comfort zone just to make sure he feels better. 

It makes him guiltier to know why he was acting like this in the first place.

“Can you…talk about your day instead, Honey?” 

They rolled their eyes with a fond smile, “Fine, but don’t think I’m letting go of it that easily, m’kay?” 

As Honey recounts the events of their day (which honestly isn't much), their stiff demeanor eventually relaxed to the point where they were more comfortable with absentmindedly giving affection, unaware that they’d been playing with Guy's hair for the past few minutes. The gentle massages on his scalp were a much-needed distraction for his mind.

That is until he felt a sharp tug from Honey in an attempt to untangle their fingers between his messy locks.

Fistfuls of hair.

Skin on skin.

Arched backs.

"Fuck, keep doin’ that, Honey. Oh–” 

“—shit! Sorry about that. Did I pull too hard?” Honey was already moving their fingers away from his head before Guy quickly (a little too quickly) halted the movement. Guy guided Honey’s hand back to its original place on his head, squeezing ever so slightly.

“No! It's okay, Honey. Just…keep it there.”

Honey gives him a knowing smirk, “You are acting so weird, you know that?”

“Just indulge in a poor man’s wishes, will you?” Guy dramatically lamented, really wanting to avoid the conversation and go back to relaxing and getting some rest. 

“Whatever you say, man,” They replied, resuming from where they left off with their story. 

As much as Guy would love to listen, his focus started wandering elsewhere as his mind drifted to sleep. 

The ticks of the clock, the scent of Honey’s body wash, the number of their eyelashes.

The texture of Honey's soft blanket.

Messy sheets.

Desperate thrusts.

Sweat dripping.

"Oh god, G-Guy, I think–I think I'm g-gonna–"

"--come?"

"H-huh?" Guy hadn't realized how hard he was gripping the throw pillow on his lap. At this point, he’s going to expose himself one way or another if he keeps being out of it. He tried his best to compose himself, hiding his distress behind a laugh. "S-sorry, Honey. Could you repeat that?"

Honey did a face, softly chuckling for a bit, before repeating their question. "I said; 'I'm gonna go buy a gift for Ollie’s birthday tomorrow morning, do you wanna come? It’s your day off tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, y-yeah. Of course. I’d love to, Honey!”

Honey stared for what felt like forever before making a face again, this time, looking like they had just been enlightened by something and letting out a snort that was so adorable, Guy almost forgot why he was avoiding their gaze.

"Pfft– Guy, you—" Honey said through their stifled giggles (that was a tell-tale sign of the belly laughs they only share with him and no one else). They never got to finish the sentence, trying but, ultimately interrupting themselves with their own laughter.

He smiled, happy to see them show this much emotion towards him when to others they tend to be more closed off (albeit, a little confused about what caused it so suddenly). “I'm what, Honey? Hey! I'm what? Do I have something on my face?”

“You’re—pfft!” 

Familiar playful slaps targeted his thighs with a faint sting he’s too far used to. He notices that their smile had their teeth showing, too busy laughing to cover it with their hand like they often do. 

Guy’s crumbling.

He knew his desires were seeping through the cracks and it took all of his willpower to resist tackling them then and there—to feel every inch of their body and give them every last bit of pleasure they rightfully deserved. But he can't. He shouldn't.

So, he opts for a kiss on the cheek instead. 

Something sweet enough to mask how hard his mind was reeling with overly aggressive affection. As he continued with his fleeting, featherlight attacks on Honey's face, his lips felt the smile that their mouth formed (accompanied by an out-of-breath “Guy, that tickles!”) and he found that pulling away was more difficult than he thought.

After a while of innocent pecks and bubbling snorts, Honey raised a hand to wipe a tear from their eye. They were looking directly at him now, eyes soft with their lips slightly parted and panting from laughing too hard.

Lips. Their lips.

“Guy, you good?”

A man can only have so much self-control before he breaks.

The next few moments felt like a blur. A hitched breath, a tightened grip. His lips hungrily meet theirs and the moan he immediately lets out was almost pathetic. But he couldn’t give a damn about anything other than the pleasurable weight grinding down on his crotch. 

They felt so good. Everything felt so fucking good. The spinning in his mind paired with the aching throb of his cock were all too much to handle that he can’t even tell if this was real or if it was the same fantasies that had been torturing him all day.

No. It’s real. It’s all real.

Despite the haze in his surroundings—despite all the noise—the only thing occupying Guy’s thoughts were the whimpers coming out of Honey that were better than anything he could have ever dreamed of. 

“Fuck,” He swore under his breath, the friction against his growing bulge breaking down any sense of sanity he had left. Guy squeezed their thigh a little harsher than intended, making Honey loudly moan out in surprise.

He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into their mouth, lapping up all the sounds he managed to coax out of them. Honey’s hands found their way to his hair, tugging like last time with more intent than before and it dragged out a needy whine from his throat muffled between their lips.

Unfortunately, the breathlessness he was experiencing isn't the same type he feels when he's around Honey and he remembered that humans do, in fact, need oxygen in their system. He pulled away from them for a quick breath, taking pleasure in how they desperately chased his lips with a soft whine, before immediately aiming at their jaw, sucking, licking, and biting skin as it trails down on their neck. 

Honey is quick to respond, their fingers ghosting the hem of his work uniform before sliding them up, keeping his squirming body steady by grabbing his waist with one hand as the other roams to his chest, the shirt riding up with it and they feel his heartbeat speed up against his ribcage.

The sensation leaves Guy lightheaded. He swore he could see stars, especially after their warm palms stroked past a particular spot he didn’t even know he was sensitive to. The action had him writhing under the weight on his lap and Honey’s sudden thrust against his clothed dick brought out a stuttered gasp from him with his hips bucking up involuntarily. 

“Shit, baby,” Honey whispered, the strain in their voice evident as they grind down harder just to hear Guy’s wanton moans one more time. “So fucking needy.”

Hot breaths.

Bare skin.

Intoxicating scents.

This felt like Deja vu.

Guy had seen this before. He dreamt of it so much that it felt like second nature for his body. During nights when his partner hadn’t been home yet and he was feeling oh so, lonely—so desperate. Nights when his imagination had gone truly wild, the same scenario that he had been replaying over and over again. The one where he would have them in a panting mess.

He vividly remembers what goes next. The movement is practiced—etched into his memory. Every bone, every nerve in his system practically has it memorized in its core. 

He pins them on the arm of their sofa, the air is hot and heavy. One final passionate kiss, one final slip of his tongue, one final grind between their legs, and his hands would reach down, down where they needed him the most to—

“A-ah, Guy, w-wait!” 

And just like that, Guy’s mind snaps back to reality. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.”

“No, no, I’m really sorry. I–” He hurries to back away, pushing off his body and sitting upright with an arm’s distance away from an equally disheveled Honey. Fuck, they looked so pretty with their lips swollen like that. His eyes guiltily avoided the abundance of purple marks he wasn't even aware he left on their neck. Shit, focus!  “I don’t know what came over me. I’m–”

“Guy, it’s okay, I like it!” Honey cuts him off, not allowing their boyfriend to give himself to blame for something that didn’t even need his apologies. “I like it a lot. I was just…worried. Ever since you came home you were acting kind of off and I don’t want you to go through with this when I feel like something’s bothering you.”

Honey reaches out to him with concerned eyes, which should probably be an indicator for Guy of how odd he has been acting as of late. Their fingers find his knuckles, gently tracing circles on them as they patiently wait for his response.

Guy never knew his heart could beat faster, given how…intimate their latest activities were, but here he is, out of breath and falling in love all over again.

“I-I know this is kinda weird and I’m being really weird and everything is weird right now but I…uhm. Well, I guess you were right about me being all bark but no bite after all, eh?” He cringes at the way his voice cracked at the end and clears his throat for the nth time today.

“Okay, what I’m trying to get to is that…I've…been thinking about you…in a not-so-wholesome way for a while now. And I know, I know, this isn't new. I've flirted with you before and you already said you were okay with it, even with the raunchier ones but I'm just…"

Guy nervously looks away to the side, his eyes downcast to avoid Honey's curious stare. "This feels like a whole new thing now that we’re actually together and it really means a lot to me. Us. You're actually one of the best things to ever come into my life and I don't want my lack of…keeping it in my pants…to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner."

The deafening silence that followed his vulnerable confession might possibly be one of the worst things he ever had to experience. Then, a sudden giggle tore through the tense atmosphere.

Honey was laughing again.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh but w-was that the thing that’s been bothering you?”

They moved closer to their boyfriend, that's currently sporting a comically betrayed look on his face. “I've noticed your hard-on already, Guy. And don’t worry, I've been…thinking about you like that too for a while now.”

Guy wished nothing more than to get swallowed by the ground beneath him.

“I–What the fu–YOU—!” Guy sputtered, not quite sure if he should feel relieved or embarrassed at the moment but one thing stuck to his thoughts, Honey felt the same.

“Honeeeey! You can't just say that and—I can’t believe you would—! Oh, you have no idea how much I've been through today!”

“I'm sorry!” But their shit-eating grin says otherwise and Guy can't help not to get mad anymore with that face. “Besides, it was kinda cute seeing you all flustered for once. Serves you right, you brat.”

“Oh wow, I’m the brat in this situation? You…torment me and now you degrade me with such scornful slander?” The man places a hand on his chest melodramatically. “I’m heartbroken, Honey…and still hard!”

"Hm…Well, then," Honey's half-lidded gaze directs itself to Guy's lips. The sultry tone of their voice tickles his brain in the best way possible. "Do you want me to—"

Guy lets out a surprised squeak as his back suddenly hits their sofa with a forceful 'thump!' Their hand is placed on the side of his head, fingers twisting around his curls. The other found its way on his thumping chest, carefully sliding downwards at an antagonizing pace.

"—lend you a hand? After all, I must’ve been quite the headache for you, in more ways than one." 

“Oh no,” Guy started, easily maneuvering their positions to have his partner on their back “No, no, no, you’ve been teasing me for far too long, Honey.”

“Let me," He drags his hips across theirs and he revels in the way Honey chokes on their breath. “Handle this. Is that alright with you, baby?” He wishes he could take a picture of this moment. Seeing them writhe under him was a sight he never wanted to forget.

Honey gulps before their lips form a nervously excited grin. Their pupils are blown wide in anticipation. "You better get to work then, Guy." 

Then, they slowly lean towards Guy to whisper their next words to his burning ears, “And don’t worry about being rough, hon. I can take it.”

Guy is a daydreamer.

But no daydream can ever compare to the reality he's going to be experiencing right now.

[sungbeam]

nonidol!lee hyunjae x fem!reader

your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him!

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, fluff, angst, comedy/humor, swearing, college au, pining, hyunyn r kinda franchise movie buffs, shirtless hyunjae......, slow burn-ish lol, if ur a theater kid i am so sorry, stress and academic pressures, mentions of a bitter ex-friendship and ex-relationship, sabotaging and low-key terrorizing by an ex-friend, kissing, insecurity, lots of jargon i looked up and hope i'm using correctly, massive leaps in time and multiple chapters that span one day 💀, denial is a river in egypt so ig hyunjae's in egypt

▷ total wc. 30.9k (i actually overshot this one r we surprised 0_0)

this is the fourth installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to other fics, and all prev and future yns will be referred to as __!yn !! i do recommend reading at least one of the prior storylines ;')

a/n: mmmmmmmmmm idk what to say but have fun bye!!! AND REBLOG FOR GOD'S SAKE REBLOG PLEASE—

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): ONE ON ONE

“HAVE you always wanted to be a playwright?”

The question caught you off guard as you glanced up from your tablet screen, the white blue-light contrasting sharply against the warm amber radiating from the small, battery-operated lamp seated on the plastic folding table. There were a couple of technical issues going on behind the curtain at the moment, so the transition to the next person auditioning would be delayed by a couple minutes. In retrospect, it was nothing, but when you were already a couple weeks late behind schedule, a couple of minutes was everything.

A young and bright second-year student sat to your right in the middle rows of the university performing arts center nosebleeds. She was peppy and eager and passionate—all the things that you sometimes saw yourself as when you were her age. Her name was Bae Sumin, and she wasn’t here to audition, nor was she here for you. She was actually here to interview a few of the dancers for the winter showcase in representation of the university’s premier newspaper called The Daily. She had asked if she could sit in for a few of the auditions and observe, maybe ask a few questions; who were you to refuse an eagle-eyed undergrad who reminded you so much of yourself?

“Oh, well,” you began, eyes flitting to the velvet curtain where you saw a man in a dark baseball cap—Lee Jihoon—give you a swift thumbs up, “kind of. Playwriting was my first love, but it eventually turned into screenwriting over time.”

“So why choose playwriting for your capstone instead of screenwriting?” Sumin followed up, as you and her attention turned to the spotlit stage where your next auditioner walked out onto.

You knew the answer to that; you really did. But the audition was beginning, and though he was introducing himself to you, you couldn’t quite get your head in the game. Why did you choose to write a play over directing a film? You quickly murmured an answer to the second-year beside you as the student onstage had gotten so nervous he dropped his copy of the script on the floor. “I guess, when it counts, you always go back to your first love.”

— ✶

It was times like these where you really valued a good, strong cup of coffee.

“—I’m gonna stop you right there.” The poor kid—you really did feel bad for cutting people off sometimes, but you swore it was wholly necessary—froze like a deer in headlights. You stood up from your chair and began making your way down the aisle and into one of the rows that were closer to the stage. “Michael, is it?”

Michael, the student on stage who had been auditioning to play the role of a Napa Valley wine salesman, bobbed his head in affirmation.

You dipped your head. “Okay, Michael. Let me ask you: what is your motivation for this scene as a wine salesman? Because, if I’m being honest, dude, I’ve counted like… four different ways you’re playing this character.” In this singular scene alone. Your head was spinning from stress, and his mannerisms felt right for the role, but his acting itself just wasn’t hitting the mark. (If that even made sense, but your initial thought when he first walked onto stage gave you the aura of a business major.)

“Um,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head, “my motivation is to… sell wine?”

“Sell wine, and? What else?” Please pick up on the lines. Please tell me you read the other lines of this character.

He rifled through his packet of stapled script papers, clammy fingers flipping through and his eyes racing over lines. He probably printed out multiple sheets to audition for multiple parts in case this one fell through. “Oh! I, uhm, I’m supposed to eventually lock Alex and Kai in the wine cellar.”

“Because…” You prompted.

“Because… my boss is the… second cousin of the bride’s uncle?” He quickly added on, and you could see the cogs in his brain turning like rent was due (your rent—your rent was due—oh shit), “Wait! Wait! And Uncle Lee overheard the ex-boyfriend plotting to get Alex alone, so he asked me to hide Alex, and I do it because I want to get promoted.”

You punched the admittedly sky-high ceiling of the performance art hall. “Bingo. Now give me desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman, Michael.”

Michael did indeed give you a desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman. He did so, very well, in fact, that you declared that you were done for the day. Because you definitely were. If you saw any more people and heard the same lines of script over and over for any longer, you were going to commit murder. At least, not without filling your stomach first. When Michael was done and scurrying off stage, you caught one of the sophomores working with Jihoon—you thought her name was SW!Yn—and asked if she could have the house lights turned on.

You trudged back up to your original seat up in the nosebleeds and found that Sumin had disappeared off somewhere. However, she left a baby pink-colored sticky note on the table for you to read: I realized that I have an actual job to do, but watching you work was so cool. Thank you for letting me sit in! x, Sumin. She’d scrawled her phone number below the message line in case you were up for a proper session to let her pick your brain, and you felt yourself smile as you tucked the note into the back of your phone case for later.

“Yn-ie!”

You settled into your seat, an eyebrow cocked in blatant amusement as you watched your best friend, Lee Hyunjae, leap down from the stage and bound up the aisle to where you were. “Where’ve you been for the past two hours?” You mused as you began packing your things away into your backpack at your feet. Hyunjae had come in with you early this morning at seven, and for the three out of five hours you’d been conducting callbacks and auditions, he had been seated beside you to keep you (relatively) sane and to give you his opinion.

He, of course, had not been allowed to sit in for Kim Younghoon’s audition, because that was favoritism. Hyunjae tried to convince you by saying he would be even more judgmental of Younghoon, but you had effectively booted him out of the auditorium. After that, he disappeared to god knew where, and Sumin replaced him.

“I’ve been around,” he said to you casually. Instead of coming into the aisle were you were, he went up one more row. “I’ll tell you about it at lunch. Hungry?”

You patted your stomach, leaning back in your chair and stretching your limbs over your head like a cat. “Yes, sir. I can go for a buffet and a half right about now.”

“Oh, a buffet and a half?” He chuckled. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms over your upper half and rested his chin on top of your head. Your heart skipped about a dozen beats then; his embrace was always very warm. “So that must mean you're resuming this train in the afternoon, too.”

“Glad to know you pay attention.”

“Hey!” He squawked indignantly, no doubt jutting his bottom lip out in a Younghoon-esque pout. “I do pay attention to you.”

You made a face that he couldn’t see, but he could feel you pat his hands. “Sure, buddy, sure.”

Cleaning up didn’t take too long, as you reassured (more so reminded) Jihoon that you would be back at around 3 o’clock sharp. If he or Chan weren’t in to turn on lights and the like, you were certain you could hold your own. You and Hyunjae agreed on heading over to one of the closer restaurants on the Ave, only a few minutes’ walk from the performing arts hall. It was a cozy sort of cafe that served really good wonton noodle soup for both winter and summer days (Hyunjae always teased you for drinking hot soup on hot days, but it was something you had done since you were a kid).

Once the two of you had settled in a booth tucked away into the corner of the establishment, you were both swift to relay your orders to the waiter. Saying you were starving would be an understatement.

“You know, there are just some people who I can’t understand how they’ve made it so far in the program,” Hyunjae said to you as you squeezed a wedge of lemon juice into his glass of water. “Thank you,” he beamed boyishly, accepting the lemony beverage to sip. “—I mean, I’m sure they got in somehow, and like—I have no right to judge, but at this point, shouldn’t you understand the basic principles of design?”

You gave a meager bob of your head, taking your own glass to repeat your actions with a new lemon wedge. “They should if they’re all graduating in one quarter, too.”

“They’re all doing capstones,” he confirmed.

You offered him an amused smile. “Well at least you know that you’re doing okay, then.”

Hyunjae sighed, leaning back against his booth seat. His gaze flickered out the window for a second, then his lip curled upward as he returned his attention to you. “I guess so. Oh!”

He straightened and leaned forward again, bracing his forearms onto the table so he inclined himself toward you. “I was gonna tell you all about my backstage adventure!”

You chuckled. “Do tell, Jae.”

“Well, we begin our adventure with collecting dance kids like Pokemon—”

You sputtered around your straw, nearly snorting water from your nose and you swiftly slapped a hand over your mouth. Hyunjae’s eyes lit up as he laughed, but he was reaching over to hand you a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “I did not expect you to say that,” you managed to croak through your miserable laughter.

Hyunjae wagged his eyebrows at you. “What can I say? I am hilarious.”

“One out of a dozen times.”

“One out of one.”

“One out of ten.”

Hyunjae simply smiled. He could do this all day. “One out of one.”

But so could you. “One out of ten.”

He leaned closer. “One out of one.”

Not one to be beaten out by your best friend, you inched closer with a slightly narrowed gaze. “One. Out. Of. Ten—”

“Order of wonton noodle soup and an order of dan dan mian?” Both you and Hyunjae shot apart, heat crawling up to your cheeks, and you wondered if it was obvious to the bored-looking waiter setting your food down on the table. You passed a glance across the table at Hyunjae, but as always, he seemed practically unfazed. In fact, he was grinning like a madman.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. When the waiter disappeared and left you and Hyunjae to your own, strange devices, Hyunjae took a pair of plastic chopsticks from the collection on the table, wiping the pair down, then handing them to you. You thanked him as you accepted the utensils from him and wiped down a soup spoon for yourself.

As the two of you began digging into your separate dishes—with Hyunjae dipping a spoon into your soup and with you reaching over to pluck a couple pieces of minced pork from his bowl—it seemed that a silent truce about the matter prior had come to settle.

Hyunjae suddenly cleared his throat, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t using his chopsticks. “So as I was saying earlier—I found Juyeonie somewhere—I can’t remember. And then we found Sunwoo. The poor kid was just wandering around like a lost sheep; he was looking for Changmin, so we all went searching for him. And then Younghoon caught up with us—how’d his callback go, by the way?”

You swallowed the bite you had in your mouth before answering. “He did great, as usual. But you’re not allowed to know more than that.”

He sent you a playfully unsatisfied deadpan. “Hmph.”

“Hmph, back at ya,” you teased. You arranged a perfect spoonful of noodles, soup and wonton, carefully blowing on the surface. “So where did you guys end up finding Changmin?”

"In a closet."

You lurched, furiously holding back your snort as you closed your mouth around your bite. Bad. Idea.

Hyunjae didn't bother hiding his giggles as he watched you struggle to chew and swallow your bite of food. "You okay over there?"

With a glare that needed no extended interpretation, you wrestled the food down your throat. "I hate you."

"Hehe, whatever you say," he sang. "He was technically in a dressing room, but same thing. He was miserable, dude. Looked so perturbed."

You scoffed. "Perturbed? What is this? The Fast and the Furious?"

"Hey! Leave my man Vin Diesel alone!"

You cocked a brow at him as you slurped noodles into your mouth. "No." And then you added, "There is literally no reason for there to be so many Fast and Furious movies."

He huffed at you. "You know, that's exactly what people say about all franchises. What would you say if somebody came after Star Wars or Marvel like that, hm?"

"I'd murder them, and you'd help me hide the bodies."

A beat passed. "Touché."

Your lip curled in mild satisfaction. "Okay, so why's the squirrel feeling so down in the dumps? Something about that ex of his?"

Hyunjae motioned vaguely with his free hand. "Ex dance partner. Apparently, it was this whole thing that happened in high school, but I didn't get all the details."

"Ah," you replied. "I'm sure a good cup of coffee can get him to perk up just fine."

"Agreed." Hyunjae's eyes went skyward as a thought occurred to him. You couldn't help but admire the definition in his jawline as he did so. "There was something weird that happened."

"Oh?"

He quirked his mouth to the side and a crease formed in his forehead. "Yeah… we were talking about your play, right? And I was agreeing with Changmin that the whole thing was my favorite because you wrote it—"

Oh. You nodded your head indulgently, expression set in a way that seemed like you were incredibly invested in what he was saying. In reality though, your insides were flaring and you could feel the sweat dripping down the back of your neck.

"—and they just looked at each other? Like that thing you and I do when we know exactly what the other person is thinking, but I didn't get it." Hyunjae wrinkled his nose, reaching for his water. "Wondered what that was about."

You averted your eyes to your bowl of soup, trying to get ahold of yourself. "Yeah," you laughed, and you hoped it didn't sound as nervous as you thought it did, "I have no idea what that's about."

He simply shrugged then. "It's probably just something stupid," Hyunjae mused, then chuckled. "Just my friends for you. Silly geese."

You cleared your throat. "Yeah…silly geese, for sure."

And you were going to have a talk with those silly geese.

EPISODE TWO: LET'S ROCK 'N' ROLL

THIS was not your first rodeo, and it certainly would not be your last. It was approximately two weeks later, the Saturday at the caboose of Spring Break, that you found yourself standing in one of the first few rows of nosebleeds with your hair pulled up and out of your face and a packet copy of your script in hand. The entire acting cast sat in a sort of half circle mass on the stage with their own copies of the script. Today was Script Read-Through Day—as well as an intermittent fitting day.

Thanks to the efforts of your fellow workaholic, drama nerd classmate Kim Hongjoong, a handful of costumes for the entire play had been completed over the length of Spring Break. You'd asked your cast to find time over finals week and Spring Break to get a quick fitting done by Hongjoong and his team, and luckily, all of that had gone smoothly.

Now, it was your turn to lean in.

"Let's get down to business, everyone!" You said with a clap of your hands to capture everyone's attention. Your eyes roamed over the faces of the people who were selected and your heart thundered in excitement. This—this was just one part of the rush you lived for. You didn't bother to suppress your grin. "Thanks for being on time and making it back here; I know I cut your break short, but we're on a very tight schedule. Can we start with going around and introducing ourselves with name, year, major, and role?"

The circlet of introductions began at Cha Eunwoo, the young man in your year who you selected for the role of Kai, the main male lead. Younghoon was cast as Ryan, Kai's best friend, and the guy who was marrying Choi Miyeon's character Lily. Minatozaki Sana was playing Alex, opposite Eunwoo. You had been surprised Younghoon hadn't auditioned specifically for the role of Kai, but you were content that he'd gone for Ryan instead—a simple chemistry reading with the four main leads the week prior had confirmed to you that you'd made all the right choices.

The main cast also included Jung Eunbi, Jung Yerin, Choi San, and Dong Sicheng, another close friend of yours. All in all, you had been incredibly lucky with the ending line up of cast members, and the supporting cast, too.

The read-through carried along smoothly—well, mostly.

“—why, of course, dear Prim! It mainly trickles down to a few… specific details—Yn,” said San as he abruptly broke out of character. Everyone’s heads shot up from their scripts, including yours, as you watched San’s hand air-gesture to an invisible beard on his face. “I’m getting one of those weird old man beards, right?”

There was a murmur of chuckles throughout the group, and you gave him a small smile. “Of course, you are. I asked Hongjoong for the perverted-looking ones, specifically.”

He grinned, nodding. “Nice!” He thought about it, “Wait…”

Younghoon coughed up a laugh. “Shall we continue?”

You inclined your head in affirmation. “Thanks, Hoon. Yes, let’s get back to it. We were at Uncle Lee’s line about ‘specific details’.”

San had been selected to play the character of Uncle Lee, the role quite literally taken from the original Shakespeare play yours was based upon: Much Ado About Nothing. Your thesis play, the biggest project you would ever conduct in your undergraduate years, was called Jasmine. The storyline centered around ex-somethings, Alex and Kai, who were Maid of Honor and Best Man to their best friends Lily and Ryan, respectively. Because of Alex and Kai’s troublesome past, they acted like they hated each other, and Lily schemed to make them finally see eye to eye—as a wedding gift to herself, of course. She also convinced a party of characters to get in on the plan with her. It had all been very fun for you to write, and you imagined that the actors up on this stage now would make it all the better when they brought it to life.

With the read-through completed, you began splitting up groups to begin chemistry exploration readings. While you ushered Sicheng, Eunwoo, Sana, and a couple of the key supporting cast members onto stage, everyone else hopped down and scattered into the nosebleeds so they could get to know their fellow cast members more intimately.

You stood in the second row of the audience in the smack middle, one arm crossed over your stomach and the other propping your script up for yourself. Younghoon settled on one of the seats next to you, a small smile appearing onto his face as he folded his leg over the other. "Why hello Miss Director."

You hummed good-naturedly. "Why hello Mister Groom. Not up to saying hello to your fellow cast members yet?" Usually he was good about introducing himself to everyone; he was quite the charmer.

"I told the lovebirds I would pay attention to their chemistry reading for pointers," he grinned, eyes sparkling beneath the dim lights. "Kai's nervous about it."

"Ah," you voiced, glancing back to the stage where Eunwoo and Sana began interacting with Sicheng and the others on stage. "Awful nice of you, Ryan. Where's your darling bride?"

He gave you a show of wistful glance as he turned his eyes toward the ceiling and propped his cheek against his fist. "My beloved? Well, she is working her magic for the wedding. I told her—" he leaned forward onto his knees then, gesturing with his hands, "—I told her, darling! This is your special day. Anything you want is what I want. You should have seen the smile on her face—a daisy in bloom, Miss Ln.”

An amused expression fixed upon your face, you tipped your imaginary hat to him. “I think you should go find your bride, sir, before her plans get out of hand.”

“Her plans could never get out of hand,” he dismissed with the flick of his wrist.

“So you’re a Yes Man now?” You replied, your brain racking for the one part in the script you had written with this exact dialogue.

You saw the recognition flicker in Younghoon’s eyes. “That’s what love does to you, my friend. It’s not the same as those tally marks you always draw in that notebook,” he replied swiftly, gesturing to your script like it was the notebook that Kai was supposed to keep. “Say, you’ve never told me what those were for.”

Pleased, you arched an eyebrow. “That’s not the line, Hoon.”

You saw the moment he snapped out of character. He smiled, the kind of Younghoon trademark everyone could recognize and become spellbound by. “I don’t have the entire script memorized yet, Yn-ie.”

“I bet you have at least half of it memorized.”

He opened his mouth to remark something when someone hollered, “Oy” from the stage. Both you and Younghoon turned your attention to Eunwoo, who had captured both of your attention. He threw his arms open wide with a teasing grin. “Ryan, you’re supposed to be watching my back, man!”

Sana shot him a scowl. “Hey, if you get a second in this duel, then I get one, too. Lily!”

“As much fun as dueling you and winning would be, Alex, I’m not stuck in ye old days—”

“Your savior has arrived!” Everyone’s heads whirled in the direction of the doors at the back of the auditorium. There was a good handful of people who began filing in through the doors, with a very familiar blond at the helm of all the madness. Reminiscent of that one fiery Elmo meme, your best friend had his arms raised with an ear-splitting grin on his face.

Kevin Moon, one of the people amongst the masses, rolled his eyes as he passed Hyunjae to enter the auditorium. “They’re rehearsing, man.”

Choi Chanhee was swift to follow his friend. “Yeah, Hyunjae,” he teased with a grin.

You fixed your friend with a confused look. “Uhm… Hyunjae, what’s happening?”

Hyunjae jogged down to where you were, leaving his army of… people? behind. “You said you needed volunteers to help you prepare set pieces, right? Well, I told you I’d recruit some people and—” He made a wide, sweeping gesture toward the large group of people now simply crowded at the back of the room, awaiting instructions. Kevin and Chanhee sent you boyish smiles as they waved in greeting. “—I did!”

The lightbulb went off in your head. You couldn’t believe you forgot. “Oh, my god. You actually listened.”

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. “Hurtful.”

Younghoon laid his head against his arms over the back of his seat with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “Aw, how romantic.”

Hyunjae pointed to his lanky actor friend. “Is he in character?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Your head shot over to Younghoon just as his eyes met yours. The man shrugged with feigned innocence, standing up to greet Chanhee and Kevin as the other two began slowly leading the army of volunteers down to where you all were setting up. You wondered how on Earth that man’s partner could stand his impish antics.

Hyunjae slipped into the row with you with a wince. “Aish, I can never figure out when he’s in proper character or not.”

“He is,” you blurted. You knew for a fact that Younghoon hadn’t been in character, but Hyunjae didn’t need to know that. Ignorance was bliss, after all. “But that’s besides the point—Jaehyun—”

He flashed you a smile, bringing his hands up to make a jazz hands gesture. “Uh oh, that’s my name-name. I either did really well or screwed up big time.”

You laughed, pressing your free hand to your forehead. “You did really well—”

“Yes!” He cheered while punching the sky. He laughed, bumbling over to you with arms open wide to embrace you. You simply could not escape him. “You’re welcome.”

You lightly punched his chest. “I never said thank you. But thank you. I appreciate it a lot.”

He let you go, lightly patting your head. A warm wave of energy made your nerves feel fuzzy at their synapses. “You don’t have to thank me for doing this for you. By the way, YH!Yn is on her way over; she’s just coming back from her internship.”

Younghoon suddenly, out of nowhere, appeared in the row again. “I heard YH!Yn’s name,” he chirped with a smile that looked like a heart. He waved his phone screen around, as if you could actually read what was on his screen, “Yeah, she said she’s on her way now.”

You nearly melted. “Oh, really? She doesn’t have to if she’s uncomfortable, Hoon. I know big crowds make her anxious—”

“Ah, it’s all good,” he said. “She’s happy to do it, really. It’s not that big of a crowd here, and you’re her friend, Yn. She wants to help out.”

“Speaking of more friends helping out—” cut in Kevin with Chanhee in tow (where did all of them pop up from, goodness), “—Cobie just texted that he, Sangyeon, Juyeon, and JC!Yn are all on their way, too. What’s the plan for all the set pieces then, Yn?”

All eyes went to you, and you felt your heart swell with love, pride—quite literally every happy emotion there was. This whole project had plagued your every waking and unconscious thought for months now. The pressure for this production to be good… there were too many people watching you now. But as you led your friends and your supposed army of volunteers to the backstage area, you felt like there was no way you could fail.

Right?

— ✶

You were cleaning up for the night. Your throat ached and exhaustion wore at your bones from the very extensive day you and everyone else had. Almost the entire cast and volunteer and tech crew members had cleared out by now—your friends had all decided to get dinner together, and you would all head over once you had finished with your business here.

You hiked the strap of your bag over your shoulder with a haggard sigh as you passed beneath the ghost light hanging backstage that signaled that Jihoon was practically done for the night. You caught a glimpse of the man hustling down the corridor and you called out to him.

“Hey, Jihoon-ah! I was hoping I could catch you on your way out.”

Jihoon glanced up from his phone, his slight smile illuminated in the pale blue-light of his phone screen. “Ah, hey, Yn-ie. Good first rehearsal today?”

You fell into step with him as you both maneuvered the dark backstage corridors together. “Yeah, actually. I’m very proud of everyone’s progress so far. I was so stressed about being a couple weeks behind, but… I’m lucky I have such a good group of people here.”

He hummed, nodding. “Definitely. That one—your Hyunjae—”

Your heart stumbled. “Hyunjae? What about him?”

“It’s nothing, but I thought I should mention that I heard a couple girls gossiping earlier—”

You nearly stopped in your tracks, and you felt something crawl beneath your skin. “What’d they say?”

Jihoon glanced over at you, maybe a bit surprised at how sharp your tone was, but he continued on smoothly, “You know that I don’t like involving myself in that petty drama, right? But they were volunteering with the set pieces and stuff, and they were talking shit about him. The usual, like, cocky, arrogant bullshit. Something about wondering how you put up with him all the time.”

You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. “Jesus,” you swore. “Who were they? I’ll deal with them—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said to you, firmly but not unkindly. The two of you had stopped in the middle of the corridor now, your voices hushed yet harsh still. “Hey, Yn—I took care of it. I don’t tolerate that shit in my theater, you hear? You have a lot on your plate, so I didn’t want you to worry, but I wanted to make sure you knew.”

Breathe, Yn. Your eyes shuddered for a moment. Hyunjae wasn’t always as well-mannered around other people as he was around you and his friends. He was like that for good reason—there were some things in one’s past that shaped who you would become, and unfortunately, that was one thing that you hadn’t been able to protect him from back then. So hearing something like this? You felt awful.

You finally gave Jihoon a nod. “Right, yeah… thanks Jihoon. Really.”

He nodded back. “Of course. Does that happen often?”

You rubbed the place between your eyes where an ache had formed. “No—I mean, he’s just got a front he puts on, but it’s not often. Maybe those girls just witnessed him on one of his bad days. He—” You shook your head.

“I get it; no need to explain it to me,” Jihoon murmured. He gently guided you toward the door out into the main auditorium where Hyunjae said he’d be waiting for you. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know. He’s great.” I love him.

When the two of you emerged into the darkened auditorium, the only light present was the one from Hyunjae’s phone. Your best friend glanced up from his screen, pocketing it away as he stood up to meet you. “Hey, everything okay?”

You and Jihoon exchanged glances. You met Hyunjae’s eyes, your smile small. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

EPISODE THREE: WE’RE ALL JUST TRYING TO KEEP THE STAGE LIGHTS ON

IT was Monday evening when you determined that you had reached the point in time where everything would only escalate from here. There was something about seeing the backstage crowded with techies that made everything seem ten times more real. Your day had begun an hour or two earlier than the actors’ as you came in to meet Jihoon and Bang Chan about set pieces and creative direction. When your actors had come in, rehearsal commenced by working through the first act of the script and creating a deeper understanding of motivations and purpose.

On Saturday, along with the chemistry explorations, there was also a moment where you had to sit everyone down and give them a better understanding of what this project even came from. (There was a real inspiration to the story, but there was no way you could expose yourself like that, especially in front of Hyunjae.) There had been yet another run through of the script, with some of your actors switching up the way they played their parts just slightly. That same experimentation would continue today.

You were in the box with Chan and a couple of his underclassmen peers as the few of you were discussing the matter of spotlights and the like. It was early in the rehearsal process, but it definitely killed to be early.

You heard a slight commotion as the doors at the back of the auditorium opened.

“You got it covered in here?” You asked Chan, already one foot out of the tech box.

Chan flashed you a dimpled smile and a thumb’s up, and you were on your way out and toward the sounds of newcomers. You could already make out the figures of your friends Park Jihyo and Wen Junhui from where you were running up to them.

“YN!” Jihyo squealed as she rushed to come bury you in a hug.

“Oh my god, thanks for coming, you guys,” you gushed, crushing yourself to her.

Jun scurried over, wrapping his limbs around the two of you, as well. The two of them had quite literally insisted on coming to this rehearsal as your sanity check, which you deeply appreciated. Well that, and the fact that Jihyo was helping you manage the finances for this project, as well as any sponsors who came through to support the play. You had never been good with that stuff, but luckily, your econ-business-major friend was. (Jun was always there for moral support; him being versed in acting also helped, too, with directing when you couldn’t.)

The three of you immediately got to work, and you were finally able to return to your own actors as the lot of you worked through the first couple of scenes of act one.

“What do you suggest we talk about?” Eunwoo asked from stage left where he and Younghoon lingered with their scripts in hand. They were standing opposite the stage from Miyeon and Sana, who were supposed to walk onto the stage from the right like walking into a restaurant. The main focus of the scene was supposed to be Miyeon and Sana, but because Younghoon and Eunwoo were still onstage, they had to act like they were actually doing something even if their microphones wouldn’t be activated.

Younghoon gave a shrug and an easygoing smile. “What do you think Kai and Ryan talk about?”

“Kai feels like the kind of pompous jerk who speaks only in Ralph Waldo Emerson and Sylvia Plath.”

“That could be an interesting dynamic,” Jun chimed in.

You lifted a shoulder in agreement. “I say ‘yes’. Let’s just see what this looks like—Eunwoo, play that; Younghoon, play the exact opposite.”

Younghoon sputtered a laugh, but he saluted, understanding your directions (somehow… it was probably because you had worked with him for a long time over the course of both of your academic careers). “Aye-aye.”

You made a waving motion toward stage right where Miyeon and Sana were poking their heads out from behind the curtains. “Ready? Action.”

It turned out that the overly smart version of Kai was not what the scene needed. After a couple of new directions to Eunwoo about this little thing, you eventually settled on a nice in-between that reminded you awfully of a certain someone…

Lo and behold, you heard the doors at the back of the auditorium open up once more. You didn’t turn your attention away from the scene playing out before you, but you had an inkling of who had entered the sphere of the dramatic.

It wasn’t until the brunch scene had finished, you pursed your lips, nodding. “I like that.”

“I like it, too,” Jihyo said, paired with a nod from Jun.

You flipped through your script, asking for the actors taking part in the next scene—the bar scene—to come to the stage. “Uhm, let’s see… I need all of the main cast, barring Kai and Alex, to the stage. I also need Bartender 1 to come out, as well.” You waved your hand around toward the middle of the stage. “Make a little cult circle or something—yes, Younghoon, you have to stand next to Miyeon, silly goose.”

It was now that you finally turned around to confirm your prediction of who had joined the crowd. Just a few rows up from where you and your friends were sat three eager faces. Presently, it was Hyunjae, Eric, and his girlfriend, the former of which greeted you by raising up what looked like an iced caramel macchiato. God bless.

You hustled up to where they were, making grabby hands at the frost drink. “Thank you,” you sighed, accepting the drink and straw from him.

“Aye! Hyunjae!” Younghoon hollered from the stage. “Where’s my drink?”

Hyunjae cupped his hands around his mouth. “The kid has it!”

“I’m not a kid,” Eric sulked as he attempted to cross his arms over his chest while also not spilling the iced americano he was in possession of.

“That’s right!” EC!Yn mused, then added, “You’re my baby.”

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose at the lovey-dovey young lovers. “Oh, now that was awful, EC!Yn,” he groaned. He nudged your elbow from where you stood next to his seat. “Wasn’t that gross?”

Your brain was filled with caramel and caffeine. “Leave them be, Jae. At least they have someone to be gross with.”

Hyunjae mocked a face of offense, and Eric and his girlfriend slipped past you two in youthful giggles to go deliver Younghoon’s drink to him down at the bottom stage. When the two of you were left alone, Hyunjae pressed his cheek against his fist as he peered up at you. “How’s today been so far?”

You finished your sip, swallowing down the sugary, caffeinated goodness. “It’s been alright so far. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well,” he sighed, “I knew you were probably going hours without water, so I thought I’d at least bring you something pleasant.”

You sat down on the floor beside his aisle seat, silently offering him a sip of the drink he had treated you to. “You know me too well. And what do you mean? You did bring me something pleasant.”

Hyunjae took a ginger sip of the drink then pushed the cup back toward you. He grinned, flipping a lock of imaginary hair behind his shoulder. “Ah, you mean me—”

“I meant the kids,” you teased as you smiled around your straw with a look that was hardly innocent.

He deadpanned at you. “Never letting my head stay in the clouds ever, huh, Miss Ln?”

“Someone has to keep you humble.”

A soft laugh fell from his lips as he shook his head, then pressed his lips to his knuckles. “Well I guess if it's gotta be anybody, it should be you. Then again, that Chanhee keeps me on my toes, too."

"Weren't you the one who said he had no ass first?"

He let out a snort. "I only speak the truth."

"That you do," you agreed.

Hyunjae flicked his phone screen on for a second to catch the time and grunted. "Ugh, I have to go meet with my group members for a project in Public Infrastructure."

Your lips curled downward. "It's literally the first day of the quarter—you have a project already?"

He huffed sharply out of his mouth, sending one of his longer bits of bangs flying upward. "That's what I'm saying. Professor is insane this quarter, especially for putting me in this group. He said he picked our groups for us because we 'don't always get to choose in the real world'." He made a face. "Somebody has hurt that man, and we are paying for it. Pretty sure the people in my group don't even like me."

Your chest ached at that, and you leaned your chin onto his arm rest while he settled his head against the back of his chair. "I'm sorry, Jae. I know group projects are hard with strangers, but maybe they'll be cool with you? Are you just a little anxious maybe?"

"Dunno," he mumbled, picking at a stray thread on the red seat. He raked a hand through his hair, shifting. "I'm just dreading it, I guess. I just have that feeling y'know?"

"Yeah, I get that." You bumped your hand against his, mustering up an encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, Jae. I believe in you."

Hyunjae collected himself enough to smile back. "I can always count on you, Yn."

"Of course," you said, as easy as breathing air. You exhaled, "What are best friends for?"

— ✶

You found yourself seated in the darkness of the auditorium seats, the ghost light of the stage your only company. The ghost light was a single bulb that hung from mid stage in order to prevent any mishaps or accidents from happening when one had to stumble about in the darkness of the theater. It was a single part of theater superstition, as well as a sign that Jihoon and Chan had gone on their way for the night, leaving you to lock up. You'd been given charge of empty theaters before, and frankly, the peace and quiet was something you needed.

The time was nearing nine o'clock though, and your stomach growled at the thought of going back to your warm townhouse shelter for some pity ramen.

You finally shut the lid of your laptop, slipping it into your bag so you could stretch your aching limbs. You popped a couple joints as you did, then reached for your drained cup of iced caramel macchiato.

The rest of rehearsal had gone reasonably well. You were making progress, and that was the important part. Eric and his girlfriend had left a little before Hyunjae had in order to go get dinner together. Hyunjae had understandably been reluctant to leave, but he basically convinced you to let him call you while he made his way over to his project meet up location. You were directing as he did, but he didn't seem to mind and listened quietly with the occasional humorous comment.

You hoped he was doing okay.

Just as you slung your bag over your shoulder, typing out a fast text to Hyunjae to ask about how it went, your ears picked up the faint sound of creaking wood.

You froze, your head whipping around the very empty theater for the sound.

You heard it again—it was the slow, haunting creeeak, like someone was taking a deliberately drawn-out step. The hand around your phone tightened as you turned your gaze to the stage. The ghost light hung eerily in the now-quiet hall, its amber light creating a circle of light beneath it like a beacon for creatures of the night.

Creeeak… creeeak…

"Jihoon?" You called out. "Chan? Is that you?"

The creaking stopped; a shiver crawled down your spine.

"Is someone there?"

When you were met with silence, you pressed a hand to your forehead, speed-walking up the aisle of the theater and out into the lobby. Swiftly locking all the doors behind you as you made your exit, you figured you were probably just hearing things.

As you deposited your empty cup into the trash bin just outside the theater doors, you received a reply from Hyunjae. The performance hall door thunked closed after you twisted the lock mechanism into place.

With no more than a glance at the dark windows, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for the bus stop.

EPISODE FOUR: IT'S ALWAYS THE DARK AND STORMY NIGHTS

FRIDAY night brought an onslaught of the sky's wrath in the form of a storm. Rehearsal had progressed decently, and while you did appreciate how hard everyone was working, you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t rush the process if you wanted a phenomenal end product. You just needed to have faith in the people you were working with.

Nearly everyone had gone home by now, barring yourself, Jihoon, Chan, and a couple of undergrads they were keeping around to show them the ropes. You were in the backstage area packing up your things to head out for the night. You could hear the voices of your peers echoing slightly through the bowels of the theater, but none of them were too near to your location.

The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stood up as you reached for a page of script cues that one of the techies had left behind on a stool.

You straightened, your eyes scanning the backstage area. All the lights were on tonight since Jihoon and Chan were still here. The ghost light was not your only companion tonight, and yet…

There had been a feeling creeping up on you this past week… something unsettling like you were being watched. Perhaps it wasn’t you specifically being watched—it was more so that you were never truly alone when you knew no one else was here with you. There was something bothering you about the shadows of the theater lately, and they had almost never been anything but comforting.

You had to visibly suppress your soul from jumping out of your skin when you heard that goddamn wooden creaking sound.

“Yn-ie?”

Your heart did about five cartwheels and a barrel leap as you whirled around to find Chan coming in from the other side of the curtain. He noticed your jumpiness and concern fell over his features. “Hey, you good?”

You usually weren’t so much of a scaredy cat, dear god. You let out a laugh, though it sounded more nervous than you liked. “Yeah—no, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little antsy, is all.” Yeah, that’s it. You slung the strap of your bag over your shoulder and walked over to Chan to bump fists with him in greeting. “You and the others wrapping up?”

Chan’s eyes swept over you and his mouth quirked into an expression that told you he didn’t believe your “I’m fine” bit at all. But he was never one to pry where he believed to be crossing a line. “Not really, actually,” he sighed, cupping the back of his neck above the headset hanging there, as the two of you moved back into the main auditorium together. “We just realized that some of the speakers have been left on for the past week. They seem to keep coming on even though we turn them off; just outdated tech, I guess. But we’re trying to see if we can fix them before considering getting new ones.”

The hammering in your heart subsided for a moment as your brows pinched together and your brain switched into work-mode. “Really? Okay, well, let me know if I can do anything to help—that is weird.”

You eventually said goodnight to everyone left in the performing arts hall as you let yourself out through the front doors. The rain seemed to have subsided from earlier, and the night was left with dark cumulus clouds looming above your head, and rain-soaked streets that smelled heavily of metal and petrichor. A cold, biting wind swept past your face and nipped at your extremities as you pulled your jacket around you tighter.

The walk to the bus stop wasn’t an awfully long one, but…

You stopped.

You swore you just heard a clattering sound from just behind you. Your attention went to a collection of trash cans sitting only a few meters behind you. When no animal revealed itself to be the source of the noise, you clutched your small canister of mace into your fist.

A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, and you turned on your heel to start walking faster toward the bus stop.

There weren’t many street lights posted in this area of campus, but if you could just get—

“YN!”

You nearly screamed when someone grabbed you by the shoulder, and you lifted the can of mace up in between you and the person.

“Shit, Yn. It’s just me!” Hyunjae slapped his palm over yours and shoved the nozzle of the mace can down and out of his vision. He wrestled your body to a stop, anchoring you to reality. “Holy shit, honey. Shhh, calm down. It’s just me.”

You furiously inhaled and exhaled, your chest rising and falling as you pressed a hand to your sternum. “Lee Hyunjae, what is wrong with you?” You growled. Had it been him this whole time?

Hyunjae dared a cheeky smile. “Well, I just saw you from down the street and I thought you saw me, but you kept walking. I guessed you were just in your head tonight, so I thought it’d be fun to surprise you.”

“You don’t grab a girl in the middle of a darkened, abandoned street and yell in her ear to surprise her.” Your eyes were hard as you reprimanded him; he was your best friend, yes, but you nearly had a heart attack right then. Your nerves were so on-edge that you just couldn’t joke with him at this moment.

He winced then. “Ah, when you put it like that…” He pressed his lips together, eyes taking in your tense form. There was something else in your face other than annoyance at his stupidity—something that troubled him. His voice grew soft, his touch even softer, as his hand cupped the back of your shoulder in a warm hold. “Hey, everything okay? I’m really sorry for doing that; it was stupid of me.”

You huffed a sigh and avoided his eyes. “This isn’t the first time I thought someone was watching me,” you confessed lowly, so not even the wind could hear you.

Hyunjae’s eyes widened when you said that, and he was swift to wrap an arm around your shoulders and gather you against him. His gaze surveyed your surroundings and the shadows seemed to dance in his view; his breath hitched. “Let’s get you home,” he murmured then, “I’m parked nearby.”

EPISODE FIVE: THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

THE next day, Jihyo, Jun, Jacob, and Kevin were seated deep into the nosebleeds within the dim areas of the theater. Straight ahead, you and Hyunjae stood in the first few rows of seats as the actors were doing a run-through of the first act of the play. Hyunjae simply sat in the seat next to you, but you were doing your director thing. It wasn’t out of the ordinary at all to see you two so close, but something had shifted overnight from the last time all of them had seen you and he interact.

“Remind me again why you guys are here so early?” Jihyo’s question was directed toward Jacob and Kevin as she sipped on her morning cup of coffee. Everyone in the row was armed with their own cup of caffeinated brew, too; that was simply what being awake at nine on a Saturday morning called for.

Kevin peered at the other two from around Jacob. “His girlfriend and Chanhee are grocery shopping.”

Jun snorted. “Are they roommates? Why’s Chanhee grocery shopping with JC!Yn? Sounds a bit random.”

“They’re with her roommate and Changmin, too,” Jacob replied with a joking roll of his eyes. “Kevin’s just petty that they’ve never thought to extend the invitation to us.”

“Hey! You always hint at wanting to join them, too. It’s not just me, good sir.”

“I asked once, and when she said no, I never asked again—”

“—he’d only say that because he’s been scorned by love,” Younghoon lamented from the stage, his arm braced along the back of Miyeon’s folding chair. Props were still being finalized between a couple options, but Jun had found a bunch of folding chairs in a closet that you could use for the bar scene. Everyone’s attention moved away from invitation-less friends to friends playing pretend. He made a dramatic gesture, clutching his heart, then straightening with a laugh as he teased his friend who wasn’t in the scene. “I still think it’s stupid that he and Alex never worked out.”

Eunbi’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline as her hand, holding a water bottle that would later be replaced with a drink glass, froze in mid-air. “I’m sorry? This is news to me. Since when did Kai and Alex even have a chance at ‘working out’?”

Miyeon let out a delighted gasp. “Oh, where to begin?”

Yerin piped in with a lazier gesture with her water bottle. “They weren’t always sworn enemies, y'know. Once upon a time, the ‘lovebirds’ were actually lovebirds,” she chuckled at her own joke—or, her character’s joke.

Younghoon explained, "Their parents pretty much pitted them against each other since the end of middle school. They used to be friends, actually, and they were top of their class in practically everything. Except…"

"Academic League?" Eunbi guessed with her brows twisted. "I remember hearing about something like that."

"Yeah, I mean," Miyeon added, "something happened in junior year and it's been like that since."

"What happened in junior year?—"

Jihyo watched the performance with narrowed eyes, her body leaned forward onto her knees. "This sounds awfully familiar."

The three boys turned their heads her way. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head, eyes fluttering. She made a face and cocked her head to the side in thought. "Okay, maybe it's not exactly like what I'm… Jun, you remember when Yn told us about—you know?"

"That she almost confessed to Hyunjae? Ow! I'm sorry!" Jun yelped as Jihyo slapped his shoulder, hard.

Jacob and Kevin exchanged wide-eyed glances. "She almost confessed to Hyunjae? When?"

Jihyo sent Jun another hard glare, to which he sheepishly raised his hands in surrender, before replying, "Yn said offhandedly once that in junior year of high school, she was almost going to confess her feelings to Hyunjae, but then suddenly decided not to."

Kevin leaned his chin onto his fist. "Huh…"

"I don't know how I didn't even notice this before when I read through the script," Jihyo thought aloud. "Alex and Kai are Yn and Hyunjae—just…with a different ending."

All four heads turned to face forward once more, except, their attention zeroed in on you and Hyunjae. YH!Yn had appeared beside you, most likely updating you on the progress of the massive prop project she was working on for the play. You listened to her report intently as Hyunjae sat next to you, his head leaned onto your shoulder as he played some game on his phone. It was far too soft, far too—there was no way you based this all off of your own experience with Hyunjae, right?

In fact, it was possible.

As YH!Yn let you know that she would have to buy a few more PVC pipes from the hardware store, you assured her that she would be reimbursed for those expenses.

“—I know how busy you are—”

YH!Yn smiled sweetly as she cut you off, “Oh, no worries at all! I’m happy to help, as Hoon said before. Plus, this is a lot more fun than my internship; feels like a little creative project I get to nerd out on.”

You grinned at that sentiment. “Ah, I totally get that. Well, I won’t keep you from it any longer. Thanks again.”

YH!Yn gave a brief goodbye, then stood up to head back out to the backstage area where she was putting together the portable fountain she was building (you had given her a list of possible “show-stopping” prop ideas you had and she had picked the fountain). As she left, you watched as she passed by the bottom stage to catch Younghoon’s hand. Something like yearning ached in your chest. One day…

The mass weighing on your opposite shoulder stirred as he let out a noise of surprise. “Huh?”

You glanced over at him as best you could, then flashed Younghoon a thumb’s up to signal him that you were paying attention now. “Huh what?”

Hyunjae sat up straight, his nose scrunched, eyes pinned to his phone screen. “Didn’t you have a friend named Ellie in like, high school?”

Your lips curled into a slight frown at the name; it definitely rang a bell. “I did, what about her?” You asked. The sounds of the dialogue happening on stage faded to glorified background noise as you leaned over to peer at Hyunjae’s phone screen. There, he had a new text thread pulled up with an unknown number introducing herself as Ellie, a “classmate of his from high school”. Not only were you frowning, but your forehead creased, too. It had been ages since you had last been in contact with her. The two of you had been the best of friends before you drifted apart.

To be honest, you had no idea how the two of you drifted apart so easily when you’d been so close to her, but you ended up getting closer to Hyunjae anyway. You chalked it up to differences in interests, but maybe now you could get some answers. Well, that was depending on why she was texting Hyunjae.

“She texted me,” he said, holding the screen between you two. “Recognize the number?”

You could barely remember your own number. Shaking your head, you lifted your gaze back up to the stage where your actors had already moved through most of the scene. “Nope. Might be a new one since it’s been so long. Wonder how she got your phone number.”

Hyunjae blew out a puff of air as he laughed—you saw him begin to type out a response from the corner of your eye. “How do people not get my number at this point,” he grumbled under his breath.

— ✶

It wasn’t until you were seated in the booth of Junhui’s favorite Chinese restaurant on the Ave that he and Jihyo ambushed you with The Question™.

“So when were you going to tell us that the play was about you and Hyunjae?”

Your movements paused, then resumed so you could properly settle into your seat. "At least let me order first."

To their credit, your friends withheld from further questioning until the waiter had come by to take the table's order. When she had gone and was out of earshot, Jihyo pounced, whipping her head over to you and placing a hand on the table between you. You realized suddenly that you were trapped between her and the wall.

"Spill."

Your eyes widened a smidge, intimidated. "How did you guys figure it out? I mean, it's not that obvious, is it?"

Jun shook his head. "Nah, not really. Ji was just on five shots of espresso this morning apparently."

Jihyo sent him a pointed look. "I was not on five shots of espresso…" She murmured, "It was two."

"Okay, five shots, two shots—" Jihyo flapped her hands around as she angled her body toward you. "It was the bar scene and they were all talking about Alex and Kai. And I thought that the bit about junior year sounded really familiar."

"I can't believe you didn't confess to him back then," Jun feigned a disproving shake of his head while clicking his tongue.

You leaned your face against the palm of your hand with an unpretty fwump. "Guys, the play is basically centered around the idea: what if I had confessed to Hyunjae and it went wrong?"

"Just ten times more dramatic," Jun pointed out.

"And," Jihyo added, "their roles are switched. Kai's the one who confesses to Alex in the play, and it's Alex's ex who makes a grand showing at the wedding festivities to cause trouble. Yn doesn't have an ex."

"Uncalled for," you grunted.

Jihyo gave a charmingly beautiful smile that could make all the world fall at her feet. "You love me."

"You're lucky you're cute."

Jun sipped on his water. "I'm right here."

You and Jihyo bursted into giggles, the sound like twinkling bells. Jun sighed softly, but you saw the corners of his lips lift up into a small smile. For a moment, you had forgotten what the topic of this conversation was.

You sobered slightly, your hands reaching for your water glass to take a gulp, then nurse it between your palms. "Have you ever heard the saying that we always try to recreate our first heartbreak in order to rewrite how it ends?"

Jihyo and Jun quieted. They peered at you with eyes that could peer straight into your soul if you let them. That was why you couldn't exactly meet their eyes as you tried to articulate your thoughts behind writing this whole mess. "I mean," you pursed your lips, "it wasn't a heartbreak; it was never a heartbreak. My heart hadn't been broken because how could it be broken if I never even let it. You know?"

"That's not how a lot of hearts are broken, Yn," Jun murmured with a sincere depth to his dark brown eyes. There was something so soulful about them. "Most are broken in silence."

You huffed slightly. "That was a great line."

"I know—"

"Ahem," Jihyo said, reigning the both of you drama geeks back into the realm of real talk. She leaned over to wrap her arms around you, her head resting on top of your own. "So you wrote this… to conquer your fears? To comprehend your feelings?"

"To imagine, to wish, to dream," you added. It was quite sad, really. You couldn't quite think of writing anything else when the time had come to start drafting your thesis. "We write what we know best."

"I thought Hyunjae was basically there throughout this whole process," Jun said, his elbows resting on top of the table as he gestured vaguely. "How has he not figured out that Alex is him?"

You gave a shrug. You couldn't imagine how he hadn't yet figured it out, but it wasn't exactly the most obvious thing. You would soon rather go missing than Hyunjae ever figuring out the truth behind the play's inspiration. Whenever he asked you, it was always "I was so inspired by Kenneth Branuagh and Emma Thompson's rendition of the play" and "I wanted to spice up an old, timeless play and give it a kick of Today". He believed that you were writing a play based solely upon the themes of childhood manipulation, academic pressure, and miscommunication. And you were—just not only those things.

Your thesis would have never been accepted if you'd only presented a skeleton of a play about your nonexistent love life. All of the additions and embellishments to the story had come easy as you pieced together the plotline. But the two main characters had never changed.

With that now settled, the food arrived at your table. (What a brilliantly timed, cosmic coincidence!) You and your friends thought it best to move onto other topics of conversation. Somehow, you had reached the topic of your recent week of weird feelings. Not just about Hyunjae, but about the strange feeling of constantly not being alone. You'd even explained the entire debacle from last night, with Hyunjae scaring you then rushing you home.

Jihyo and Jun both replied appropriately: "Girl, what the fuck?"

You brushed it off with a nonchalance that was not convincing. (Then again, you were never an actress yourself.)

The rest of dinner progressed relatively smoothly, and when the check had come and gone, you wanted to offer a mint to your friends.

"—shit," you swore as you dug around in your bag. When your hand came up empty-handed, you brushed that same hand through your hair. "I left my Altoids in the theater."

Jihyo finished signing her bill, tucking her card away. "Oh? Well, let's go get them."

Jun bobbed his head as he shouldered his coat on. "Yeah, it's no problem, Yn-ie."

"Really? You guys don't have to; they're just min—"

"Nonsense!" Jihyo chirped. She stood up and out of the booth, giving you the space to slip out after her. She then linked your arm with hers, then hooked her other with Jun's. "Power in numbers, my love."

You could do nothing but agree—wholeheartedly. The way your heart rate slowed when she insisted that she and Jun would accompany you showed just how grateful you were. You probably wouldn't have even gone to retrieve them tonight, but waited until Monday instead. They were just mints, after all, but you were appreciative nonetheless. Even for a small item, they would be by your side.

The journey back to the theater was a brief one as Jun drove the three of you back to the performing arts center and pulled into the space right by the stairs up to the hall. You recalled leaving them on one of the dressing room tables in the back corridors, so you used your student ID to buzz into the back hallway of the performing arts building.

You and your friends' voices hushed as you all crept into the dark, abandoned building. When the door closed behind you all, you turned your phone flashlight on to guide your way toward the dressing rooms.

"It should be in one of these rooms," you told your friends as you entered the hallway of doors. You located a familiar number and pushed into the room, swiftly retrieving the teal-colored metal box of minty sweets on the vanity table.

The door closed softly when you slipped out.

"Hey, how's YH!Yn's fountain project coming along?" Jun asked as the three of you began to make your way back toward the back door.

"Oh yeah!" Jihyo perked up. "How's that going? She's so badass for that."

"Isn't she?" You gushed. "Do you guys wanna see her progress?"

There was an obvious answer to that, and the three of you made a hard one hundred eighty degree turn, swerving back down the corridor from which you had just come from. Your conspiratorial giggles echoed within the rafters and bowels of the theater, as if you were pixies from A Midsummer Night's Dream, frolicking through the forest in which they dwelled.

When you reached the vicinity of the backstage area, your footsteps faltered.

It was still dark.

You frowned, slowly stepping into the backstage area.

"Yn? What's wrong?"

Jun said it before you could, "Huh. The ghost light's not on."

Indeed, the bulb that was supposed to be on when no light was, was pitch black. A cool breeze drifted down your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck and your arms stand up.

"Could Jihoon or Chan have forgotten on their way out?"

"You know Jihoon's not one to forget."

You drifted away from your friends as you slowly stepped into the backstage area. Your flashlight shone toward the walls first as you aimed to make your way toward the lights panel. It would be an easy fix—

Your heart dropped clean into the pit of your stomach.

The light of your flashlight illuminated the absolute chaos.

Setting and backdrop pieces that had been painted by volunteers, articles of clothing collected for people's costumes, scripts left behind torn out of their staples—all of it was flung about and scattered over the backstage floor. It was like a tornado had swept through the area, and you knew your friends were seeing what you were seeing now.

You held your breath for so long you were pretty sure you were imagining the hands shaking you.

Somebody had come in and took their rage out on your play. But who, and more importantly, why?

EPISODE SIX: PHANTOM OF THE PERFORMING ARTS HALL

"WHAT'S up with the ghost light anyway?"

There was a group of you gathered by the stage of the performing arts hall, the house lights having been turned on after you'd made a call to Jihoon and campus security. Along with Jihoon and campus security, however, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Eric, and Younghoon had also appeared. You had shot Hyunjae a text about what had happened and he'd rushed over with his friends—you felt awful about pulling them away from whatever they were doing, but Hyunjae didn't say anything about it.

You sat on the edge of the stage next to Jihyo with Jun and Hyunjae standing by you both on the floor of the auditorium. Well, Hyunjae stood in front of you and you leaned your chin on top of his beanie-covered head while the lot of you waited for whatever security pulled up from the limited amount of cameras. Jihoon had disappeared somewhere to make a call—you would hear from him, too, soon.

The question had been posed by Juyeon, who sat next to Eric and Younghoon in the first row of nosebleeds.

Jun dragged a hand down the side of his face, then rubbed his mouth. "Ah, it's uhm, old theater superstition," he replied. "Usually, backstage crew leaves the ghost light on so anybody coming in doesn't trip on anything or accidentally get hurt or, y'know—break anything."

"It couldn't have just gone out because of the power then?" Hyunjae asked.

Younghoon shook his head. "Usually it runs on the same electricity that every other light runs on. I've never been in a theater where the ghost light just randomly goes out, and there weren't any power outages today either."

"The problem isn't even about the ghost light," you said. Everyone's eyes flickered over to you and Hyunjae. Hyunjae patted one of the legs you had on either side of his upper body as a means of consolation or comfort. "It's about the props and costumes. We're just lucky that they were just scattered and not properly damaged. We would've been set back another week at least."

Eric perked up. "Maybe it's the ghost of Shakespeare haunting the hall!"

A snort fell from your lips as you mused, "Shakespeare in the park?"

Hyunjae cleared his throat as he prepared his best rendition of the Iron Man line: "Doth mother know you weareth her drapes?"

As the two of you shared a giggle and fistbump, the other remaining members of your party sent you strange, confused looks.

Younghoon gave an eye roll. "Oh dear god, you two really are meant for each other."

You caught Jun and Jihyo whip their heads toward you, but before anything else could be said, Jihoon was hustling back into the auditorium from the lobby doors in the back. He brushed the hair out of his eyes as he jogged over to where all of you were gathered, those signature bags under his eyes prominently featured. Oh, you definitely felt terrible.

"What'd they say, Jihoon?" Jihyo asked first.

Jihoon tucked his hands into his pockets as he joined the loose cult circle. "Security found that the locks on the front of the hall were picked open, so they wouldn't have gotten a record of somebody's card being used. Cams picked up someone dressed in black, but they knew where the camera would have gotten a clear shot of them. But because there wasn't anything officially damaged, there isn't much legal action we can take."

Juyeon offered quietly, "Breaking and entering."

Jihoon gestured to him. "Right. Breaking and entering, but that's about it." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "It wasn't just a prank or whatever. At least, I don't think so. What do you think, Yn?"

You swallowed, straightening slightly. "I don't think so either. I mean, I don't think any drunk pranksters would go through the trouble of picking open a lock. Even a sober one."

"Maybe a spiteful classmate," Jun suggested with a meager shrug. "Some people are ruthless."

"If there isn't much we can do, or much security is willing to do," you muttered, "then we should call it a night. We just have to take pains to lock everything up every rehearsal now."

Jihoon nodded sharply. "Right. Pains, but necessary ones."

"I'm sorry this happened to you," Eric frowned. A murmur of agreement echoed from everyone else in the group.

You pursed your lips. "It's okay, I—it's not okay, obviously, but I'm glad no one's hard work was properly destroyed. That's all that matters." Even if your nerves were a little shaken. Who could have done this?

The remainder of your time spent in the theater was picking everything up and putting them in their rightful places. By the time the group of you had finished locking everything up, the night had slipped away into its proper depths. Everyone was ready to get the hell out of here and go home to their beds, and Jihoon was certain to show you the ghost light being turned and sustaining for at least a couple minutes before the two of you were the last out.

Juyeon, Eric, Younghoon, and Jihoon said their goodnights and goodbyes, already departing their separate ways to go home. You lifted your head up to find where Jihyo and Jun were waiting for you when you saw Hyunjae standing closer to the entryway of the hall. He gave you a sleepy smile, opening up his arms for you to walk right into.

"Tired?" He chuckled, the sound creating a soft vibration in his chest as you shoved your face into his pretty-smelling sweater.

"Mm," you grunted. "You didn't go home with Younghoon?"

"Nah. I wanna go home with you."

In any other context, in any other situation, that would have meant something completely different. You swallowed, wrapping your arms around his frame. With a nod, you screwed your eyes shut and swept away those wistful thoughts. "Okay, fine."

You didn't know why you kept doing this to yourself. But he was your best friend, and tonight was… a lot. A friendly sleepover was something you needed—at least, that was what you were telling yourself.

— ✶

Being the oh-so courteous guest he was (especially since he practically invited himself over), Hyunjae let you take the shower first. You shared a townhouse a bus ride away from the university campus with two others whom you knew from rooming with them your first year of college. You had lucked out with the random roommate assignments that year, and the three of you weren't the closest nor best of friends, but you found great housemates in each other, which was just as valuable.

You had your own room and ensuite up on the topmost floor, so you and Hyunjae had a bit of privacy and wouldn't bother your friends below. You had finished with your shower a bit ago, so you were settled on your bed, flipping through emails and ensuring no important ones had ended up in the spam folder.

When you heard the door open from the bathroom, you glanced up, but returned your gaze back to this one email about a sponsorship that needed to be added to the playbill later.

"I accidentally grabbed the wrong shirt."

You hummed in question as you quickly forwarded the email to Jihyo, then looked up. A laugh sputtered out of your mouth as you took in Hyunjae taking up the space of your doorway. He was in a pair of his own sweatpants that he often left here, but instead of one of his t-shirts, he must have accidentally grabbed one of your tops. It was a Hello Kitty one you'd found in the back of your closet awhile ago, and fit you pretty nicely, so it looked strained on Hyunjae.

You flopped onto the bed, rolling around in your own laughter. "Jae!—your tits don't fit in that, honey."

Hyunjae's mouth stretched into a grin, his tongue darting out for a second. His dirty blond hair, damp and curly, hung slightly in his eyes over his forehead. "Oh, shut up."

To your detriment (you deserved this, you really did), he then smiled (more like, smirked) as he casually lifted the top over his head.

Your eyes widened just as your entire body lit up on fire. "Hey, woah there! Dude!" You jokingly covered your eyes—your whole face—with your hands as he flicked the shirt off, straightened it out, then stalked over to your closet to swap tops.

Hyunjae rolled his eyes as he ripped another shirt from a hanger and came to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "You've seen me shirtless before, Yn. Calm down."

No. How could you just calm down—? It was nearly impossible when you saw the way the muscles in his back rippled as he yanked the new, white T-shirt over his head. With muted sadness, you watched as the toned muscle on his stomach disappeared beneath the fabric.

Damn.

"You're drooling."

Your eyes darted up to where he was grinning down at his phone screen now, only looking at you from his periphery where you were still lying on the bed.

You huffed, rising onto your knees and hoping your embarrassment wasn't plain as day. But you subtly swiped your thumb across your lower lip to make sure you weren't actually drooling. This is your best friend, Yn; control yourself. "Loser."

"Child."

"Chicken."

"Weirdo."

"Nerd!" You shot back, making him laugh as you draped yourself over his back and tucked his head under your chin. His wet, cold hair tickled your skin, but it was a welcome sensation.

You peered down at his phone with him from your perch. "Who's that?" You asked as he opened up a new text notification from a new number.

You were scanning the message the sender had texted while Hyunjae huffed. "Another of your suitors, milady," he drawled sarcastically.

The message said something like "would she be interested?", the "she" referring to you.

Hyunjae typed out: In you? Probably not.

You let out a gasp, hitting him playfully on the (muscle of his) shoulder. "Hyunjae!"

He snickered, exiting out of the text chain, then deleting the number. "What? I'm just being honest. I feel like every dude who's interested in you goes through me to ask and it's so lame."

You absentmindedly watched as he opened up Instagram and started brainlessly doom-scrolling. "Maybe it's 'cause you've so clearly friendzoned me," you muttered incoherently under your breath.

"Huh? What was that?"

"Maybe it's 'cause they see you as the gatekeeper," you amended, leaving him to climb off your bed and step into the bathroom to prepare your toothbrush for use.

You could hear the incredulity in his voice. "Gatekeeper? Pfft, no way. They're all just cowards; they don't deserve you if they can't ask you out to your face." After a second, he added, "Hey, I don't gatekeep you!"

You made a face at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth. "Uh-huh."

"That's not reassuring, Yn-ie."

You poked your head out of the bathroom and made eye contact with where he had rearranged his position so he sat up against the headboard. "I was just agreeing with you," you teased, then retreated back into the bathroom to finish up your night routine.

"No, you weren't, you menace."

You flicked the lights in the bathroom and bedroom off and rolled onto the bed next to him. The two of you laid facing each other in the dark, your bodies kept to your own sides of the bed and blanket. You both were propped onto your sides, one arm tucked beneath your head.

"I don't gatekeep you," he said into the silence, his voice lowering to match the volume of darkness. He poked your cheek with a finger, as if he could stamp the declaration there.

You gave a small smile. "Okay, Jae." A thought suddenly occurred to you as you broke your stare-down to twist around and grab your phone from the nightstand to see if Jihyo and Jun had said something to the group chat. "Oh, by the way, did you ever figure out what Ellie wanted?"

Hyunjae shifted so he was on his back now, one hand still braced behind his head and the other resting on his stomach—but his eyes still watched you. "Something about a random high school project from senior year. She couldn't find the file for it and wanted to draw inspiration from it or something."

"I didn't know you had a project with her in senior year," you said offhandedly, shutting your phone off and replacing it onto the nightstand. You sighed, slipping further beneath the covers and closer to Hyunjae.

He drew you close, tucking you beneath his chin this time. "Yeah, it wasn't really important. Nothing to worry about."

"I wasn't worrying."

You could already feel yourself drifting off into dreamland, the exhaustion in your eyes making your eyelids close like valance curtains at the very front, lowering to mask the backstage magic from the audience. Except, the magic were your thoughts rocketing into the realm of the fictional. For a split second, you thought about somebody being in your position with your best friend one day. Would it hurt to think about then as much as it did now?

You couldn't exactly think about that future right now. Hyunjae, you liked to think, was far from letting anyone new into his carefully-maintained walls. He had been hurt by people before, and you'd be damned if you didn't protect him from that ever happening again.

You thought Hyunjae had fallen asleep until you felt his thumb brush against the back of your shoulder. "When have I ever friend-zoned you?"

Your heart stuttered in your chest for a moment, but it wasn't enough to wake you up completely. As you drifted off fully, you convinced yourself that you had imagined him saying that. You were both awfully tired, anyway.

EPISODE SEVEN: OH SHIT, WAS MY MIC ON?

TWO whirlwind weeks had flown by. You could hardly even soak in the moments of this last undergraduate project before it all began to blur together. The only ways you were able to properly tell time were crossing out calendar dates and—

“Oh my god, oh my god! Get it out, get it out!”

You, along with everyone present in the main auditorium of the performing arts hall, came to a screeching halt as a flurry of squeals erupted from somewhere deep backstage. You and the conductor of the pit orchestra exchanged concerned expressions before you were making a beeline for the fastest access point backstage. Younghoon and Eunwoo were swift to accompany you, and though you had a sinking feeling you knew what this was, you held your grimace for when you confirmed your suspicions.

Over the past couple of weeks, the feeling of being watched had not faded from the back of your mind. You tried to adjust rehearsal schedules so that they were a little earlier in the evening, but people had lives and you simply could not inconvenience them based on someone trying to scare you. Plus, with the spring season flying in swiftly, the sun retired a lot later, which gave you some peace of mind, at least.

But over that same time, the person meddling with your show had ceased to cease. One day it was sky blue fabric strewn all over the main stage; another day it was peacock feathers left in the projection box; there were cables missing from tech, headsets changed to radio channels. Somebody was clearly pulling out all the stops to ensure that this theater and production was full of old theater superstitions and bad luck, either to scare you or the people you were working with (or both), and frankly—it was working. To an extent.

You stormed into the back corridor of the performing arts hall, the supporting cast and tech crew all sprinkled about the hallway, anxiously watching you and your friends pass by them toward one of the larger dressing rooms.

“What is going on?” You demanded as you entered the dressing room. There was a small gathering of people gawking at something—the dressing room vanity mirror. The breath left your lungs at the sight.

The surface of the mirror was vandalized, the infamous word “Macbeth” scrawled all over its reflective plane in red lipstick. Some of the product had begun to melt from the heat of the lightbulbs around the mirror and dripped down the mirror like blood. It would have been a comical prank if this wasn’t a theater. You felt a stiff, cool breeze run across your skin.

Somebody was really trying to fuck you over, huh.

You shoved down a swallow. “Somebody get me some Windex,” you croaked. When nobody moved, you repeated yourself, forcing a bit more strength into your voice.

Chan appeared in the room, his own eyes pinned to the subject matter upon the mirror, as he handed you a bottle of Windex and an old rag.

You snatched it out of his hands with a “thank you”, then marched up to the mirror. With shaky hands, you began scrubbing away at the word written over and over on the mirror. You heard Chan corral everyone out of the dressing room and back to their original activities. All your senses had dulled by now, and you felt Younghoon gently pry the rag from your hands so he could reach the spaces that you couldn’t.

“Who is doing this?” You voiced to the now sparsely populated dressing room. You sat in one of the dressing room chairs with your hand pressed to your forehead with Younghoon, Chan, and Jihoon present. Eunwoo had gone out to calm people down, but you knew that this was going to draw a line for some people. It was a known superstition not to utter the name of the notorious Scottish Play in a theater, and it had just been named about a couple dozen times on the mirror behind you.

Your friends could offer no suggestions.

Your pride took an even bigger hit when you decided to cut the remainder of rehearsal for the day; you were certain there were at least a handful of people who were scandalized by what just happened.

“Are you okay, though?” Younghoon asked you for the third time as the two of you watched people leave the performing arts hall from the base of the nosebleeds. “I know that you’re not usually so… swayed by superstition.”

You could only give a stiff shrug. “I’m not,” you agreed, “but this is going to be the biggest project and production of my undergrad career. I don’t—I can’t take any chances.” You smoothed a hand over one half of your face. “God, I’m just tired, Hoon. I’m so stressed, and cutting rehearsal short today—we’re gonna be set back another day—”

“Hey,” he soothed, grasping you by the shoulders so you would look him in the eye. He offered a kind smile, “You’re doing great, Yn. I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under right now for this to go perfectly, but I think you have to have a little faith in all of us, including yourself. One rehearsal is not going to make a difference in the long run. We’ve got a lot of talented, hard-working people who will sleep this mishap off and come right back to make up for lost time.”

He squeezed your shoulder. “And whoever’s been doing this? They’ll get their due karma.”

You let his words soak into your brain. You needed this; you needed those words said to you. With a nod, you and Younghoon deigned to head out with everyone else. Jihoon and Chan were swift to shut the theater down for the evening, as well.

As you and Younghoon stepped out into the early evening, the sky still glowed a buttery yellow swirled in purpley-blue. There was another breeze wafting by, but instead of the chills you got before, it was slightly warmer and made you inhale deeply. The air out here made your lungs less constricted, you realized, and maybe you’d been stuck in that theater for too long lately. This would be good for you, as well as everyone else.

“I think me and some of the cast are gonna get together to go over some scenes at the grove,” said Younghoon as he peered down at his phone screen. “Wanna come with?”

You brushed a strand of hair from your face, a decision coming to surface. “Nah, I think I’m gonna take a walk. Get some fresh air.”

Younghoon passed you a brilliant-sort of smile that gleamed in the golden hour light. “Alrighty, director. Sounds good. Have a good night then, Yn-ie.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for today, Hoon.”

You and Younghoon parted ways there, and while he traveled down the stairs toward east campus, you traveled northward toward the quad. The quad, a place most known for the cherry blossom trees that bloomed in the early spring, was no doubt full of people taking late afternoon strolls in the temperate spring climate. It was the perfect environment for you to relax and let some of the stress and pressure fade from your pulsing temples.

There were no longer cherry blossom flowers blooming upon the dark branches, but healthy, dark green leaves. Even if they were shades of pink, they were still beautiful nonetheless.

After making a full loop around the quad lawn’s perimeter, you made a detour down one of the side pathways that were lined in trees that yawned toward its partner on the other side of the pathway. It was noticeably quieter and less populated here, and for once, you actually didn’t feel like you were being watched.

You were walking for only a few minutes in the serenity when you saw a pair of people standing in a clearing of trees just to your two o'clock. You stopped, a familiar blond haired best friend catching your eyes.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Was what you heard from Hyunjae, and you almost marched right up to them to defend him.

That was, until you saw the girl's face.

You hadn't recognized her at first because she had her back facing you and she had changed her hair. But it wasn't difficult to recognize your old friend, Ellie, the one who Hyunjae said had contacted her. Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. Why were they together right now? You thought Hyunjae had said weeks ago that she was just trying to get ahold of an old project they'd done together in high school.

Ellie placed her hands on her hips, her facial expression stony and unreadable. "Can you think rationally for a second and listen to me all the way through? That's what you agreed to when you said you'd meet me."

Huh?

You pressed your side against the nearest tree trunk, your heart thundering your eardrums.

When Hyunjae said nothing, Ellie continued, exhaling sharply, "Okay. As I was saying earlier, do you even know what the play's about? …No. Look at you; can't you see? You don't even know what it's really about."

"Of course, I know what it's about," Hyunjae sneered. "It's about how academic pressure and miscommunication can ruin relationships—"

Ellie laughed, the sound mirthful, and yet carried an air of malice that made your skin crawl. This wasn't the Ellie you remembered… "That's funny, oh my god! You really don't know what it's about."

"What are you going on about?"

"I think you should ask her," she said with a smile. You peered around the tree, feeling utterly stupid like one of those characters from a teen drama eavesdropping on their lover and their nemesis. "Ask her, Hyunjae. I'm sure she'll tell you what it's really about when you mention that I told you she st—"

"Yn?"

Oh, for fuck's sake. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Jihyo's voice from behind you. You quickly grabbed her and dragged her down behind the tree trunk next to you. When she sent you a look that told you she thought you were completely deranged, you pressed a finger to your lips.

She indulged you, thank god, and followed your lead as you crept around the tree trunk again.

"It's cute that you have so much trust in her," was what you heard Ellie say next.

Jihyo squinted as she tried to identify the girl. "Who the fuck…?"

You kept your eyes glued to the pair before you, but muttered to Jihyo quickly, "That's Ellie. Old friend of mine from high school, but we drifted apart. Haven't talked to her since."

"She and Hyunjae are friends?"

"No, I have no clue what's going on." Yet, your stomach twisted and churned and you felt bile crawl up the length of your throat.

A muscle feathered in Hyunjae's jaw, but he couldn't seem to get himself to say something.

Ellie looked upon him pitifully. "One day, she'll drop you, too—when she finds someone better. That's what she did to me, y'know? I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories."

You saw red.

This time, Jihyo had to grab a fist full of your shirt and yank you down next to her to prevent you from clawing Ellie's vocal chords clean out of her throat. Because you would have.

Anything—you would've done anything to never see the flash of shame, hurt, and anger across Hyunjae's face when she said that. It was like she'd slapped him, clean and hard. Your chest ached as you watched his hand tighten into a fist at his side.

"You don't know anything about me," he said icily.

And it was over all too soon. Ellie said something to Hyunjae, but it was too quiet to hear. When Ellie left her own way, Hyunjae stalked off in a different direction, leaving you and Jihyo where the two of you remained hunched behind the tree.

You made to get up, but Jihyo pulled you back down again. "Ji, I have to go make sure he's okay—"

"I know you do," she told you firmly while keeping you seated down next to her. "But you're not in the right headspace, and neither is he. You need to breathe, especially after today and whatever the hell that was."

When you sent her a questionable look, she explained, "I bumped into Sana on my way to the performing arts center and she told me what happened. Then Younghoon told me you went on a walk and I just tracked your phone to here."

Your jaw dropped. "You tracked my—"

"Shhh," she shushed you, pressing a finger against your lips. "That's besides the point! Are you okay, Yn? For real."

You leaned back onto your palms, a frown coming up to your lips. "Everyone keeps asking me that lately."

"It's a valid question."

That was fair, you supposed. You released a sigh. "I mean… not really? I'm just stressed, and I don't even know what to think or how to comprehend what we just witnessed." Your brain was buzzing with every one of Ellie's biting words. What had she meant by all of that? She sounded so bitter, so malicious… What had happened?

Jihyo pressed her lips together, sitting down properly onto the grass. "What was that? Did you and Ellie end on bad terms?"

Your brows creased together and you absentmindedly scratched your jaw. "No," you murmured. "Not that I remember. It was just like we drifted apart over time. At least, that's how I remember it. I dunno."

You blew out another breath of air. Ellie and you had both been really good at what you did—theater, writing, all of the works. You two were a dynamic duo; if people now claimed you were a prodigy, then Ellie was your twin. In a way, you could probably say that your characters from the play you wrote almost mimicked yours and Ellie's creative abilities and technical prowess, but just in different spheres. While the love story was based upon you and Hyunjae, the foundation had been from you and Ellie.

But it eventually faded, that friendship. You figured that was just how things worked, as unfortunate as it was. You both moved on, and you found Hyunjae.

You relayed all of this to Jihyo, your friend listening to your words intently.

"—but I've never carried any ill will toward her," you reiterated at the end of your spiel. "I truly haven't heard from her since and she hasn't reached out either. I don't know what could have caused her to tell Hyunjae all of that."

Jihyo pressed her mouth to her knuckles as a thoughtful frown graced her porcelain features. "Hm, yeah. It's curious, for sure. What were they saying before I got here?"

You gnawed on your top lip. "She kept insisting that he didn't know what the play was really about and that he should ask me."

"Huh."

"I know right." You carded a hand through your hair. "I'm screwed."

"Only if he actually works up the guts to ask," she countered. "Though, I think you should beat him to it."

You cocked your head to the side in question. "What do you mean?"

She lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "Y'know—like you have to confront him about meeting with Ellie. You can't keep this from him; I know you."

Yeah, she was right. It would eat at you if you let that guilt swirl in your stomach. Plus, all of those things Ellie had said to him… you hoped he was okay. Dear god, you hoped he was okay.

(But the question now, you supposed, was who would bring it up first?)

EPISODE EIGHT: EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT SHE'S THE BO-BO-BO-BOSS

FUNNY story: it took a week before you and Hyunjae could even have a proper conversation, in person.

With the quarter well underway, there was little to no time to stop and smell the flowers anymore. This had now become a race toward graduation, meaning that everyone was focused on their own problems. The “pranks” had dulled down, but they were, by no means, completely gone. There were always the occasional cord missing, or that dreaded creaking noise in the wings on late nights.

You’d grown used to it by this point, and so had your peers, luckily. The conversation between Ellie and Hyunjae sat in the back of your mind at all times. You always knew it was there, but you had so many things to worry about. Act two was just about wrapping up though, and so, play progress was chugging along well on schedule.

You really did have nothing to worry about—maybe it had all been jitters. Maybe it would all just finally go smoothly.

Friday night rehearsal was a little slower tonight since everyone had been here since noon. You’d all practically spent the entire day together, having lunch first, then diving into proper rehearsal. It had been a rehearsal full of laughs and a good time, and by the time Hyunjae stepped foot into the performing arts hall, you felt that you could take on anything. Even the conversation that needed to take place.

“Hey, you said you wanted to talk to me about something?” He said as the two of you stepped into the privacy of the sound booth, the tails of laughter still lingering in the air from the scene he had come into. You were currently rehearsing the directions of the first scene of act three, where Younghoon’s character was going through a full-on “groom-zilla” mode while Eunwoo’s character couldn’t stop talking about Sana’s character. It had been a full one-eighty character swap between the two friends.

You licked your lips, trying to press your smile down a little. “Oh, yeah. I was taking a walk, like, a week ago—and I saw you and Ellie talking.” You figured it would be better to just air it out right away; there was no need to beat around the bush. You lowered yourself onto the edge of one of the tables inside the booth, the air turning stuffy from the insulation inside the box. Crossing your arms loosely over your front, you watched as Hyunjae’s mood shifted, his body shuffling as he sought a comfortable position against the wall by the door.

Hyunjae cleared his throat, head ducking as his hand cupped the back of his neck. “Oh, really? You saw that?”

“I heard what she said to you—”

His head whipped up at that.

“—and I can’t believe she said that,” you said, those dagger-sharp words echoing in your mind from what Ellie had said to him about his own character. “Are you… are you okay?”

Hyunjae’s eyes widened a millimeter. “Am—am I okay?” He stammered.

“Yeah, I mean, she said that you were awful and it was…” You shook your head with a haggard sigh. “I’m sorry she said all that to you.”

“Thanks,” he exhaled, peering over at you through his eyelashes. He looked so small for once. “I—” He huffed air out from his nostrils, leaning his head back against the wall as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. “Is that all you heard though?”

No, I also heard her insist you ask me what the play is about. You blinked, your own voice seemingly trapped in your throat. Why couldn’t you just own up to it?

But he must have taken your silence as you saying that you hadn’t heard anything else, so he gathered his wits to ask you, “Yn, what’s the play really about?”

The breath left your lungs. “You know what it’s about, Jae. You were there while I wrote it.” Please don’t make me say it. Please don’t make me say it. Because a part of you knew that if he pushed, you would give. You would tell him because… how could you not? If he wanted you to be honest with him, then… oh god, would you really? Would you risk this little secret of yours and ruin a friendship? Either way—it could go either way.

His tongue darted out for a moment as he carded a hand through his hair; he took a couple steps toward you. “I know, Yn. But—Ellie kept on insisting that I ask you what the real idea behind the play is. And she—and she,” he laughed, the sound disbelieving, “she said that you stole the idea from her, which is crazy! I know it’s crazy, because I watched you labor over this thing for months.”

She what? All thoughts except for one left your brain at that moment: why in the world would Ellie tell Hyunjae that you stole the idea for Jasmine from her? You didn’t remember ever seeing this kind of work from her before. “I didn’t steal anything from her.”

“I know,” he replied again, placating you. He now stood right in front of you, but your eyes raced back and forth about a mile a minute as you mentally went through the things you remember ever writing with her. You couldn’t remember; you couldn’t think. Why would she say that? “So I just wanted to ask,” he said slowly, his words drawn out as he leaned down slightly so you would look him in the eyes, “what is the play really about? The real meaning.”

There were pros and cons to telling him. On the one hand, you could spew the same surface-level bullshit that you usually did, but you had a feeling that one wouldn’t work this time. On the other hand, you could tell him—the truth. That was the worst pill to swallow. It could end in utter catastrophe or it could end in your wildest dreams. But what if, when he didn’t feel the same about you, had to let you down easy and your friendship would never be the same ever again? You couldn’t bear losing him, you just couldn’t. You loved Hyunjae…

“Yn, you’re scaring me,” he said with an anxious laugh.

You met his eyes then. “You don’t trust me?” You blurted before you could stop yourself. Those words, that tone… it sounded to you like he really was starting to believe what Ellie told him.

Something flashed across his face, and he was racing to defend himself. “What? No, of course I trust you. I just—I just want to know what the real meaning behind the play was about; that’s all!” And if you can’t tell me, then what else am I supposed to believe? “Yn, come on, honey—please—”

“It’s about you.”

All breath left him. You saw the way one hundred and one emotions flickered through his eyes; all of thoughts racing about at once as he tried to comprehend. “What? I don’t—I don’t understand.”

You balled your hands into fists in front of you as the frustration suddenly bubbled to the surface. “I wrote it about us, Hyunjae,” you told him. “Alex is based on you, Kai is based on me. I’ve been in love with you since junior year of high school, and that is what the true premise of the play is about.” Your hands were shaking now, gesturing between the two of you in stiff, constrained motions like the feeling of your chest’s range of movements at this time.

You watched it dawn on him, watched him swallow—hard. “Yn, I’m sorry—”

“Jaehyun.”

He shut up immediately.

You pressed your fingers to the space between your eyes. For a second, you swore you could feel tears tickle the insides of your eyes, and you blinked them away, inhaling deeply to get your body to calm the fuck down. Why were you crying? There was no reason to be crying right now. “Can you—” you stumbled over your words for once, “—can you give me some space. I can’t… I can’t think.”

He obliged you, backing up a few steps, and you said fuck it. “Hyunjae, I need space. Please.”

You thought you saw hurt flash across his face, but you just wanted to be out of his eyesight. You couldn’t bear to feel those soft, sympathetic eyes on you. You couldn’t bear the weight of his “I’m sorry I don’t feel the same” right now.

“Okay,” he said, though barely audible.

It took a minute, but he left and you were finally able to suck in a large gulp of air. You strode out of the sound box and realized that everyone on stage was either looking your way, or had quickly turned their heads to pretend they hadn’t just seen that silent argument take place through the sound box window.

Your face and neck were on fire, but you swallowed your pride and returned to your rightful place in the middle aisles of the floor seats. You picked up your script from where you’d abandoned it by your bag. “Right,” you said, your voice shaky until you cleared your throat. (Your hands were definitely still a bit wobbly, but that wasn’t your greatest concern right now.) “Where were we? Scene one, right?”

Everyone slowly began making their way back to their original positions, but Younghoon walked up to the bottom stage and lowered his voice to say, “Yn, we can take a break if you need one. Take five, then reconvene.”

He probably knew what just went down in the sound box. Yet, you found yourself shaking your head. “No, it’s fine,” you assured him, un-reassuringly. “I can do this, Hoon.”

He frowned at you then—those damn, soulful eyes—but nodded, respecting your decision. Like everyone else, he returned to the original position his character was in at the top of the scene.

I’m sorry, his voice seemed to echo in your ears. A part of you ached at the thought of that stark hurt on his face, but you were hurting, too. Why would you send him away like that?

You blinked, your head clearing. “Okay, everyone. Let’s see it.”

— ✶

A few hours later, you finally had everyone wrap up for the night.

“Thanks for all your hard work today!” You exclaimed as the actors and techies began swarming the stage to put props away. You climbed up to the stage, too, jumping onto one of the backdrops that Younghoon was wheeling backstage to help him direct it through the heavy folds of the backdrop curtain.

Younghoon shot you a smile from the other side of the prop. “Well, Miss Director, nice work today.”

You returned the expression wholeheartedly. “Thanks, man. The same goes to you; I appreciate all your hard work today. And that idea for the wedding sequence was absolutely brilliant.”

He chuckled at that, and the two of you worked together to slot the prop onto the cart with the rest of the ones that were just like it. A couple of stagehands then moved the assembly line along and rolled the cart down the hall to lock up in one of the dressing rooms. “I like to think I’ve been to enough weddings at this point to know how to spice them up.”

“Ah, that’s right,” you mused along with him as the two of you began walking down the backstage corridor to where you knew his partner was hard at work with that miraculous fountain. “I remember something about yours and YH!Yn’s first proper outing being to your cousin’s wedding?”

Younghoon threw his head back with a hearty chuckle at that. “Your memory serves you correctly then,” he confirmed. “Well, it wasn’t our first proper outing together. Technically, we met at an outing—”

“What do you think they were arguing about? It looked like they broke up or something.”

The line caught you off guard, and your footsteps faltered. Younghoon gave you a confused look, eyebrow arched. Your ears strained to eavesdrop on the conversation happening in one of the open dressing rooms you just passed by.

“No way that they were dating! … okay, I guess that would make sense why she put up with him all the time,” a second voice scoffed. “Maybe she finally got tired of his bullshit and cut him off.”

“That would make sense as to why he got out of the theater so fast. I went to their high school, and even after Hyunjae left, the year above me still talked about him—”

Your hand slammed against the doorframe of the dressing room, effectively making the two stagehands inside jump in surprise. They gaped at you with wide eyes, lips parted in shock as you addressed them with a carefully-made blank expression. “Let’s not go sticking our noses where they aren’t appreciated, yeah? Worry about yourselves, thanks.”

The two bowed their heads, apologies crawling from their mouths, and you turned back into the hallway where Younghoon was waiting for you.

You resumed your walk down the hall, and your friend casted you a side-long glance. “Thanks for standing up for him like you do,” he said to you. “I don’t know what happened today, but…”

“It doesn’t matter what happened today,” you said to Younghoon with a small exhale. You gave him a smile, even though you knew it wasn’t convincing. “I’ll always stand up for him.”

“Even when he doesn’t deserve it?” Younghoon joked with a laugh.

Your smile curled a little wider. “Even when he doesn’t deserve it.” In reality, you knew that he deserved to have someone stand up for him. Whether that be you, or Younghoon, or even Jihoon—you knew that everyone deserved to have someone watch their back when they weren’t around. You might have pushed him away earlier this evening, but that would never stop you from continuing to protect him. It was simple, really; you loved him.

EPISODE NINE: ARE DRAMA MAJORS ALWAYS SO DRAMATIC? WAIT, DON’T ANSWER THAT.

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have done this in the grocery store like you guys always do,” Hyunjae grumbled as sounds of livelihood raged all around him: pots and pans clanged to the sizzle of food on the stove, the TV played some random American murder mystery show on low volume, and Hyunjae was sandwiched in between two others on his and Younghoon’s apartment couch.

Chanhee, who sat on the other side of Juyeon (who was on one side of Hyunjae), snorted. His nose was in his phone as he scrolled through Instagram, but didn’t look up as he replied, “As if we’d let you into Grocery Aisle Therapy. That’s exclusive admission.”

“That’s true,” Jacob chimed in from Hyunjae’s other side, as the man spooned a generous helping of Frosted Flakes into his mouth, “I tried.”

“And if even Jacob was denied entry,” Sangyeon mused from the kitchen as he turned off the stove and hood range, carrying over a bowl of the fried rice he had made for himself. Haknyeon skipped behind him with his own bowl and his cheeks were already full of the delicious food. Eric and Sunwoo were swift to follow their friend’s lead and raced into the kitchen to get a helping for themselves.

Changmin made a face from where he sat on the floor below Chanhee and Younghoon. “Not for lack of trying. You should’ve seen JC!Yn try to resist his goo-goo eyes. Bleh,” he gagged.

“I admire her tenacity then,” Hyunjae sniffed. “Not everyone can resist Jacob.”

Jacob beamed.

Kevin narrowed his eyes at Changmin. He sat just a few spaces away from the glasses-wearing menace, but carefully cross-legged and cradling a bowl of popcorn in his hands. “You say that when you literally pined after your girlfriend like an angsty teenager for three years.” He feigned a face of contemplation, then added, “Oh wait, you actually are an angsty teen—aye! Dad, Changmin hit me!”

“I am so sick of this family,” Sangyeon mumbled under his breath as he collapsed into the armchair adjacent to the sofa-sectional everyone else flocked upon. “Enough, both of you. Why were we all called here, again?”

Eric slid back into the living room on the polished wood floors in his socks, then perched atop the arm of Sangyeon’s armchair as he feasted upon his bowl of fried rice. He carefully lowered each spoonful of rice into his mouth so he wouldn’t dirty the fluffy cardigan he now wore. "Hyung's in trouble with his lady lover."

“Lady lover?” Sunwoo echoed with his face scrunched up like he just ate something sour. He had taken the spot between Kevin and Changmin to hopefully stop one from kicking the other again (hopefully).

"You're so judgmental."

"And you're—"

Sangyeon massaged the migraine pulsing in his temples away furiously with a clear grimace. "Shush, children. What did you do this time, Hyunjae?"

Hyunjae's jaw dropped, an image akin to one particular Pikachu meme. "Why am I immediately assumed to be the one at fault?"

"You summoned us all here," Haknyeon said with a shrug. "And Younghoon hyung said that it looked like you and Yn-ie suffered a break up in front of the entire main cast of Jasmine."

Hyunjae threw a displeased glance Younghoon's way; the tall man grinned sheepishly as if saying "what was I supposed to do—lie?" Hyunjae stared down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers and the watch on his wrist. "It wasn't a break up…"

Kevin made a disapproving noise. "Oh, we know."

Hyunjae glared down at the top of Kevin's head. "Rude."

"Okay, so explain what happened," Juyeon prompted.

The man in question sucked in a breath. Where to begin? Someone muted the TV, so Hyunjae and Younghoon's apartment descended into a coat of silence. Everyone waited for Hyunjae's response.

Hyunjae decided that there was only one logical way to start. He began when he first received a text message from the elusive 'Ellie', your supposed best friend before him. He couldn't believe you had a soulmate other than him, but it only mattered that you two had found each other—not that that mattered—

He went through the entire spiel: Ellie had texted him about some project they worked on together in senior year of high school. He hadn't known why she would even care about something dumb they'd done in high school especially when she was a fourth year in college like the rest of you. But she had asked politely and he wasn't one to just dismiss someone when it was a simple, innocent request. However, when he had finished with this little task, he should have stopped there.

Their conversations eventually escalated from innocent "oh, you remember when…" to "if we meet, you have to agree to hear my side of the argument." He remembered her exact words: "You'll be very shocked to hear the truth" regarding your business with the play. He wanted to look out for you like you always did for him (and screw it, he was curious), so he obliged Ellie and met with her.

That had been one of many mistakes he made. The biggest mistake was what went down at the theater a couple of days ago. And now? He had just made you confess to him, he had broken your trust, and he didn't know how he was going to make it up to you.

(He had to admit though, that once he finally got space to think about what you said to him, there was something about the prospect of you being in love with him that gave his heart a lively kick-start—)

Chanhee reached over Juyeon's head and swatted Hyunjae's neck like there was a very large mosquito there. "You dumbass!"

Hyunjae yelped, his hand reaching up to rub the aching place furiously. "Ow!"

"Deserved," Kevin sang as he tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "That was super not cool, man."

"You don't think I know that?" He rolled his eyes.

"Yes," everyone chorused together.

Cue his next set of eye rolls.

"Hyung," said Sunwoo as he shifted so he faced Hyunjae. His eyes squinted up at him, his curly bangs falling into his pupils as they usually did. "How could you not see that she was in love with you? You have to be blinder than a bat."

"You've been hanging out with SW!Yn too much," Changmin teased.

"Hey, don't bring her into this and taint her good name! Even she saw how perfectly enraptured Yn-ie is."

Changmin opened his mouth to make another unnecessary comment, but Sunwoo slapped a palm over his friend's mouth.

"I guess that leaves one question," said Juyeon, finally, after a long stretch of his silence.

"And what's that, Juyeonie?" Sangyeon asked.

Juyeon pursed his lips together in a slight pout. "What else? Are you in love with Yn, too, Hyunjae?"

Oh—

Hyunjae's thoughts careened to a stop when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He maneuvered around on the couch cushion to retrieve the device, his heart pounding in anticipation—but that emotion was immediately swapped out with utter disdain.

His friends observed this flip with great interest. "Who—"

An indignant spark lit Hyunjae's dark irises as he furiously typed something to the sender and promptly blocked the number.

Jacob and Juyeon, who were able to peer over at Hyunjae's phone screen, both widened their eyes in scandal. Jacob grinned, lifting his hand to delicately hide his snickers. "Well that answers our question."

Hyunjae sulked, swiping through his contacts, then blocking Ellie's number, too. He should have done that so damn long ago.

"It was some guy asking if he knew if Yn was free in two weeks—"

"And she's not," Hyunjae grunted, shoving his phone back into his pocket, then standing up to go get Sangyeon's fried rice in the kitchen. "These fucking guys, man. Like, what the fuck am I gonna do? Hype you up to her? No way in hell—" He scoffed, slapping a spatula of rice into his bowl with a strength that the bowl, rice, and utensil didn't deserve.

He couldn't believe that one stupid, little thing the two of you had done in freshman year of college had led to this spam of dudes flooding his inbox for you. If he had half a mind, he would declare that you weren't on the market anymore and that you weren't even interested in seeing any… body…

The thought marinated in his head for a moment as he slowly chewed the fried rice. Why did he want you "off the market"? You were his best friend, but you weren't his to covet or shield or speak for. You weren't his.

You weren't… his.

"Oh my god, you can actually see the neurons firing in his brain for once."

Hyunjae plopped himself back into his original place on the couch. "I hate you guys."

"So you've realized that you're in love with her?" Younghoon asked exasperatedly, his hands splayed out on his legs like he was begging to the cosmos.

Hyunjae made a face and pretended that his heart wasn't palpitating and that a drop of sweat wasn't dripping down the back of his neck right now. "What? Of course not," he said through a mouthful of fried rice.

One could hear the collective exhale of disappointment all the way to your townhouse.

— ✶

It was Thursday evening when you found yourself walking out of the performing arts hall after yet another rehearsal, and coming face to face with the person who had become one of your greatest problems over the past month.

Your hand stopped in midair from which you were brushing the hair out of your face when you and a young woman made eye contact. She was seated on one of the benches facing the entryway of the performing arts hall, her attention lifting away from her phone and to you. The sky remained alight and streaked in its dazzling sunset colors, and yet, the sight of her made everything feel grayed.

She smiled at you. "Ah, you're done."

Something crawled beneath the surface of your skin. For a second, you thought it was disgust, but upon further thought, it was really something bittersweet. You swallowed, adjusting your hold on your bag strap. "Can I help you?"

"Do you remember me, Yn?"

"Of course, I do, Ellie." How could I forget you?

Ellie's smile shuddered and you suddenly couldn't read her face. It was strange seeing her four years into the future. You remembered catching glimpses of her in the hallways, her sweet smile and button nose, the freckles sprinkled across her cheekbones like kisses from the sun. "I guess that's one thing out of the way."

Her biting words to Hyunjae appeared in the forefront of your mind. "What you said to Hyunjae—"

"Was true," she cut in. "And based on the fact that he blocked me a few days ago, I'm guessing that something happened between you two." Her lips curled upward, "How does it feel to know he actually doubted you? If I'm being honest, it makes me fucking sing, Yn!" There was a shiver-inducing giddiness to her voice and you wondered if this was all a joke. It would be a cruel joke, but anything would be better than this.

Could she see the horror on your face? "Ellie, we were friends," you managed to say.

She pressed her lips together. "We were friends until you decided that we weren't."

"What are you talking about?" You threw back at her. "We drifted apart—"

"You abandoned me," she quipped. The smile was gone now, her mouth set into a taut line. "You left me to rot."

Your heart dropped into your stomach. About a million things flashed through your mind, but most of all, you came to a very fast epiphany: you'd always thought she was happy. "Ellie," you said, slowly, softly, "I'm sorry that you felt that way. Really, I am so sorry."

"I've made sure you feel that way."

"But you should have left Hyunjae out of this."

Ellie laughed and the sound was harsh. "This isn't about your stupid best friend, or whatever. This is about you and me. I can't believe you thought—how could you prefer him over me? Why did you stop talking to me, Yn?"

You were so confused. All this time, you had thought that yours and Ellie's friendship ended on a mutually neutral ground. You thought that you had just drifted away from one another from the eventuality of time. Was that not how she saw it this entire time?

The end of Ellie's question took on a raspy undertone, the gleam in her eyes less so that of anger, but the melancholy underneath. You wanted to make things right, but you didn't know what that was.

When you had yet to say anything except for letting the breeze waft past your face, she let out a scoff. It was a somewhat embarrassed sound, her eyes skittish. "You know that my parents always compared me to you. Constantly. You remember what you said to me?"

You swallowed. "'They can compare all they want, but you'll always be enough for me.'"

"I didn't want to bother you when we 'drifted apart', as you say," she continued on with a huff. "And then I saw you and Hyunjae, and the way you looked at him—god, I knew right away, Yn. And I was so bitter. Just so, so bitter." She shook her head. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

Dear god, you hadn't known this whole time. You'd wished you had known. You didn't know what you might have done differently—maybe not have been so blind—but… what if you couldn't have saved that friendship? Was this always meant to happen in the grand scheme of the universe's stage?

You made your way toward her and she simply watched as you stopped a handful of paces away from her. “I didn’t mean to drift away from you or to make you feel like I was replacing you in any way.” For a moment, you were quiet, and you inhaled a deep breath to query, "What made you suddenly want to confront me after so long then?"

She peered up at you, a mixture of sadness and something sharper in the reflection of her irises. "You didn't have to keep getting better and showing off. I just got sick of living in your shadow when you weren't even there."

You bristled at that. “What else could I have done? I’m sorry you felt that way, really, but I had a lot of pressure on my shoulders, too. I wanted them to stop expecting more from me, but each time I did something right, they kept pushing for more. And I—”

“I just wanted my friend back!” She exclaimed.

The words died on your tongue, dissipating in the tense air between you two. The fight left you then, seeing the hard break in her expression, a sliver of the girl you remembered from so long ago. What happened to her? She’d been poisoned by whatever feelings were locked inside her, and you supposed that it was only inevitable that those same feelings would one day be unleashed. You wished she didn’t have to confront you this way. "So you thought lying to Hyunjae would have done the trick?" You finally murmured.

"You didn't figure out who's been messing around with your production all quarter?"

The question caught you off guard, but you were quick to catch on nonetheless. Your breath hitched as you stood there, stunned. "That was you?"

A nod.

"All of it?" Disbelief struck you clean across the face and you felt like you'd just been slapped. A new level of anger boiled in your blood; all of those nights you spent creeped out of your mind, the extra stress from all the superstitious bullshit—

"This is our last act," she said, her tongue darting out for a moment. "I don't want anything else from you after this."

You couldn’t believe she would go through all of this trouble—all for what? All to prove what? It was utterly childish, preposterous, dramatic. “Good,” you asserted, as firmly as you could muster, “I don’t want anything from you either.”

And there was a split-second where you saw a crack in her expression, truly. Before, when you’d seen that bit of melancholy seep through, it must have been purposeful. Perhaps it was to draw some kind of sympathy or guilt from you, but after she admitted to doing all of that crap to you and your peers, you weren’t about to lean into that, old friend be damned. Of course you felt bad that she had felt like that for so long. You pitied her. But it didn’t mean you had to forgive her; not for this.

Maybe this was it though: all she wanted from you was for you to feel as helpless as she had, but you simply couldn’t feel that way. All that you could feel was cold fury.

“Fine,” she cleared her throat, straightening. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

You let out a scoff, the sound making her eyelids shudder. Your teeth grated against each other as you closed yours and her “final act”: “And I hope you’ve learned yours. I hope I never see you again.”

You turned brusquely on your heel to walk away before you did anything rash. But a sudden thought appeared on the tip of your tongue, and you found yourself stopping. When you glanced back at her, she was watching you leave with an emotion you couldn’t quite detect. The two of you had been such good friends, and… you really wished you could understand her position better. “I just don’t understand why you went through all this trouble. If you had just—texted me, called me—” You made a gesture with your hand then let the limb fall limply to your side, “You could’ve just said hi.”

You left her behind after that, purposefully this time. Did people like Ellie deserve their chance at redemption? Maybe when the dust had settled, but for now, you hoped she received her due karma.

EPISODE TEN: GOOGLE, DEFINE DRAMATIC IRONY.

THEY said that a terrible dress rehearsal marked a production for a brilliant opening night. As Michael, the wine salesman dude, forgot his fifth line of the rehearsal; as the tech staff in the box forgot their second lighting cue of the night; and as Hongjoong continued to have to fuss over San’s Uncle™ beard for the third time, you were trying very hard to keep that saying in mind.

Weeks had passed—you didn’t know how many, maybe five, maybe two, maybe an entire year—but that entire time, you didn’t feel Ellie’s presence haunting you anymore, nor had you heard from Hyunjae yet. He was busy with his architectural capstone project, anyway, and you felt that you both needed to take this time to yourselves to focus on more important things. (You thought this as if your friendship with him didn’t mean the absolute fucking world, but you were pretty sure you were seconds away from setting this building on fire so—)

The dreaded Tech Week had descended upon the cast and crew of Jasmine. Not only that, but it was also Finals Week, meaning everyone in this room was just as stressed out as they usually were, except, five times more. It made for a great rehearsal, clearly.

“—remember that as soon as she says ‘fine!’, you have to be out here to pull the rug out from beneath her feet,” you instructed the stagehand, who looked a millisecond away from passing out right there on the stage.

When they nodded their understanding, you turned away with a migraine pounding away at your temples. You just had to get through one more act, and you could call it a night. Opening night was literally in four days, and you were trying not to yearn after your best friend and feel guilty about pushing him away—and then there was the guilt that had slowly bubbled up over the past few weeks from what happened with Ellie. Maybe it had been all your fault—

“Yn, your eye is twitching.”

“Huh?” You perked up from where you were seemingly glaring a hole in the ground of the nosebleeds. Younghoon shot you an amused, yet mildly concerned look from within the winds of the stage. “Oh, sorry. Can we take it from the top of act three, please? One more act, people; let’s hang in there.”

That latter bit was more for you.

By the end of rehearsal, everyone was just as happy as you were to head home. Today was Monday, the beginning of the week, and yet you wished it was Saturday already—graduation. Now that was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Younghoon held the door open for you as the two of you exited out the front doors of the performing arts hall. When you murmured a thank you to him, he fell into step with you easily. The walk to the bus station seemed impossibly long with the ache in your legs.

Younghoon released a low-sounding whistle. “So…”

“Hm?”

“Are you coming to Cobie’s surprise birthday party tomorrow? I know it’s finals week and tech week, but it’d be nice to have that little break beforehand.”

Oh, right. Hyunjae’s friend Jacob was having his birthday party—well, it wasn’t him who was hosting, but his girlfriend. She had organized all of it, and had even had the good will to extend an invitation to you. At the time, you couldn’t find it in you to say no, despite the knowledge of your busy month at the forefront of your mind. But even now, you found it hard to really formulate a concrete response. The uneasiness was creeping up on you again.

“I dunno, Hoon…” you said lowly with a wince. “Maybe I should just catch up on sleep, y’know? And plus, I don’t want my feelings for Hyunjae to ruin the mood or anything. I’m kind of a Debby Downer right now,” you laughed pitifully.

Younghoon’s mouth curved into a frown. “Yn, you’re not a downer. You’re stressed and you have a lot of burden on your shoulders, but… I think something carefree will be good for you, no? Maybe you should at least stop by and say hello to people—take advantage of Hyunjae having to be in charge of providing free booze for everyone.”

You glanced up at him, meeting his kind eyes. “I’ll think about it,” you promised. You were probably too tired to think logically about going anywhere else but your bed at this moment.

Younghoon nodded. “Okay.”

As the two of you carried on down the stairs now, the bus stop in sight, you gathered your wits about you. “How is… how is he, by the way?” You asked.

Younghoon peered at you with something akin to gentleness and sympathy. “He’s… I think he’s okay.” He squinted one eye as he looked up toward the night sky, the thoughts meandering about his head. “You just have to give him some time. You know how stubborn he is,” he joked.

You could only give a shallow nod at that.

Not one to let a friend leave him so upset, he nudged you with the back of his hand. “Hey, don’t worry too much about him, okay? You have a lot on your plate right now, and you deserve to have your head in the game, okay? It’s all gonna be okay.”

“You always have such a way with words,” you laughed lightly as you wiped a tear from your eye—whether it was from emotions or just being plain exhausted, you couldn’t tell.

He smiled again then. “If I wrote down these words, I’d be stealing your job, Miss Director.”

Your laugh was a little brighter at that note. “Okay, Actor Extraordinaire. We’ll see about that.”

The two of you shared a laugh, and when you reached the bus stop, Younghoon waited until the bus came by to pick you up. It wasn’t yet deep night, but he was a gentleman all the same. You climbed up into the bus, scanning your transportation card as you went, then sat by a window to wave to Younghoon.

When the bus pulled away from the curb and away into the night, Younghoon pulled out his phone to the text chain with his partner. He’d come to a decision then, and as hungry as he was, he figured he could channel this annoyance into confronting one certain man by the name of Lee Jaehyun.

younghoon’s phone: love, i think i’m going to be late for dinner

beloved mastermind: i’ll save u a seat &lt;;3

— ✶

The lights beneath the swimming pool glowed an ethereal shade of fluorescent blue. It reminded Younghoon of a mermaid's cove with the way the light waves reflected off the ceilings of the building to create scales on the rafters. The emptiness of the indoor swimming pool was offset by the thrashing of flesh against water as a lone swimmer stole lap after lap across the great blue.

Younghoon lowered himself onto a steel bleacher and watched Hyunjae bolt from one end of the pool to the next, hardly taking the time to breathe air, like he breathed chlorine and water instead. The familiarity of the smell—warm stone, pungent chemicals—sent flashes of Younghoon's own days on the high school swim team to his mind.

At last, Hyunjae took his final lap, his breathing coming out labored as he swept a hand up his face and through his hair. His locks slicked all the way back, and his chest rose and fell harshly as adrenaline pumped through his veins and his lungs fought to consume oxygen without asphyxiating on it.

Hyunjae clambered his elbows onto the deck. "How'd you—know I was here?" He managed to say, nodding his thanks as Younghoon handed him the water bottle at the other end of the bench from him where Hyunjae's duffle bag sat.

Younghoon gave a meager shoulder shrug. "I know you too well not to," he said. The two were both swimmers, and where else would swimmers go to put their head somewhere else and to escape the world?

Hyunjae couldn't argue with that.

The two friends were quiet for a minute as Younghoon let Hyunjae catch his breath. There was something troubling about seeing him so tense, even after pumping out so many laps. The exhaustion didn't seem to outweigh the conflict warring in his mind.

Finally— "Hyunjae-ah, what are you doing?"

Hyunjae blinked up at him, perplexed. "Huh?"

Younghoon leaned his cheek against his palm, elbow resting on top of his knee. He fixed him with a stare. "What are you doing?" He repeated.

This time, the message seemed to have been delivered successfully. Hyunjae licked his lips, his gaze averting away from Younghoon. "Did you come here just to scold me?"

"No, I came here to tell you you're being an angsty teen."

Hyunjae scowled, his lips pressed into a pout. "No, I'm not."

Younghoon rolled his eyes just as his stomach grumbled in protest at him not going straight to meet his partner for dinner. Instead, here he was, trying to talk sense to a wall. "You're so childish sometimes."

He quieted. Hyunjae leaned his head against the meat of his forearm, eyes fluttering closed against the warmth of the heated pool deck. "How is she?"

"She's not good, but she's also not bad," Younghoon replied. He sighed, leaning forward onto his forearms for a more comfortable confrontation position. His lips pulled into a line. "Stressed, of course, but I think that was a given."

Hyunjae rubbed his eyes. "I fucked up, Younghoon."

A solemn nod. "I'm glad you see it now."

"This isn't a joke."

"I'm not saying it's a joke."

Hyunjae squinted at him. "Sometimes I don't believe you."

Younghoon smiled cheekily. "Well, sometimes you have to pick who and what to believe."

That hit a nerve, even if Younghoon didn't mean it to. Hyunjae immediately thought of yours and his last conversation. He couldn't get the image out of his head of the look of betrayal on your face when you asked him if he didn't trust you. He'd been stupid to be so curious, but of course he trusted you. He'd always trusted you. Who else could he trust but the very person who always protected him and was by his side? So why did he have to go and be so stupid?

He backed away from the wall for a minute and simply stood in the middle of the shallow lane as if the water could give him wisdom. "I," he began, then sighed, "I miss her a lot. I've wanted to text her, to call her so many times." He smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "I think I just don't know what I would say."

"An apology would be a good start," suggested Younghoon.

"Right…" That was obvious, and yet, it was always the most difficult step. Would you let him come back into your life after a reveal like that? Feelings were such fragile, fickle things.

His heart sank at the idea of losing you forever though.

One day, she'll drop you, too, those damned words replayed over and over in his head like a broken record. —When she finds someone better… I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories.

Once upon a time, Hyunjae hadn't always been "awful" or dogged down by other people's negative testimonials about his attitude. So what if he had been "scorned by love" as you so lovingly put it one time? That experience had been enough for him to shut down all access points, keeping you sheltered in with him. It was hard for him to think of wanting to be with anyone else… but you.

He didn't mean to latch onto you so tight, but perhaps he had grown so dependent on you all this time. You had never given him reason to doubt how much you cared—god, why had he been so stupid?

Younghoon watched Hyunjae's inner conflict through the windows to his soul, glowing with the cerulean blue of the chemically altered pool water. "Hyunjae, do you love her?"

Of course he loved you. That was out of the question. But this was a different type of love that Younghoon was referring to, and it called for something much larger in the grand scheme of things.

That kind of love—what a frightening prospect, he thought. But didn't you make everything so much less frightening?

EPISODE ELEVEN: PLACES, EVERYONE!

"YOU stole my boyfriend, by the way." Hyunjae huffed as he set down the last two grocery bags he had helped bring up to the apartment from Juyeon's car.

JC!Yn barely batted an eyelash at him as she swept past to organize the utensils and cups set out on the breakfast table. “You snooze, you lose, Lee,” she teased with a sing-song tone.

From the front door, Sangyeon bumbled in with a clean, crisp white box, as he whistled a happy tune under his breath. JC!Yn greeted him at the entryway, thanking him profusely for picking up the cake, then taking the box from him so she could transfer it to the fridge for safe keeping.

“Chanhee says that he’s bringing his best friend, so he wants everyone to—I quote—‘not be embarrassing’,” Changmin snorted and giggled loudly from the couch where he relayed the information from his texts with Chanhee.

“That’ll be difficult for you,” CM!Yn quipped back so fast that Hyunjae couldn’t even suppress the high-pitched laugh he let out. Not that he wanted to suppress it; he had to admit that Changmin’s girlfriend was just as much a menace as her boyfriend was.

As Changmin’s jaw dropped and he pounced on top of her to tickle her into submission, Hyunjae averted his gaze elsewhere. He pulled his phone out, leaning against the granite kitchen countertop while he read Younghoon’s latest text notifications.

bread face: we’ll be there soon

bread face: i think i saw kevin and jacob a few cars behind us at the intersection, so i’m making haknyeon step on it

hyunjae’s phone: lol i was gonna chastise u about texting and driving hoon

bread face: tch pls, i’m better than that 🙄

bread face: i would at least make yh!yn do my texts for me 🤪

Hyunjae glanced up just in time to see JC!Yn’s front door open to reveal Chanhee and Eric, along with their plus ones. He tongued the inside of his cheek, thinking offhandedly at the fact that so many of his friends had found people to be with. It felt like they were all growing up far too fast; even as a fourth-year in university, it was unimaginable. Where would they all be in ten years? Where would he be?

He hoped, at the very least, that he might see you in his future—one way or another. As long as he could pull his shit together and finally talk to you.

hyunjae’s phone: almost everyone’s here btw r u guys close??

bread face: yeah, pulling up one block over so they don’t see hak’s car

bread face: hey, do yk if yn’s coming today?

Hyunjae’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, then he typed in the clear answer: no, not a clue. I have a feeling she won’t be here though.

He tucked his phone away, looking over to see that JC!Yn’s roommate, Kei, had just stepped out of her room with a finished “Happy Birthday, Jacob” banner. “Hey, you need help with that?”

— ✶

The party was well under way, and suffice to say, the surprise party had been an entire success. Because Jacob was definitely not a fan of being jumpscared, it was good foresight that everyone was just in sight when he and Kevin opened the door. He had no clue that his partner had organized this for everyone and that everyone else was in on it. (Even Eric was able to keep the secret in the wraps, no doubt with the help of his significant other.) Almost all of his friends had brought along a plus-one, minus the singletons (himself, Juyeon, Kevin, and Sangyeon—though, that was still debatable) and Haknyeon and Sunwoo who’s significant others weren’t too close with the group just yet. It was a marvel that Younghoon’s girlfriend decided to come, too, but she said she would probably leave early anyway.

“You’re so sad-looking,” said Juyeon as he hopped onto the island counter next to Hyunjae. The two of them could scope out the whole apartment from this vantage point; the mood seemed to be at an all-time high, despite it being an incredibly stressful week for everyone.

Hyunjae made an indignant noise and he lifted his plastic cup of soda to his lips. “Pfft. I’m not sad-looking.”

Juyeon gave a meager shrug. “Every time you see someone and their partner, you look like your puppy just got taken.”

“That’s—” he stammered in protest, “—that’s not true. I—I just keep thinking about my arch capstone, that’s all! School is ruining my life.” The lie was so stark that even Hyunje winced to himself.

“Ah, well, I can relate to that,” his friend sighed. The two gazed out at the party, their ears perking up when they heard Sangyeon say something about him and Jacob needing to step outside for Jacob’s birthday gift—whatever that meant. Hyunjae and Juyeon exchanged strange looks with one another, before bursting into laughter.

Not even a few minutes had passed before Jacob and Sangyeon walked back into the apartment with everyone’s curiosity piqued. Jacob had on the best poker face that he could muster, his lips pressed together but a muscle in the corner of his mouth twitching upward like he was either trying not to laugh or smile.

“Well?” Kevin was the first to voice. He, along with everyone else over at the couch, leaned over the back of the furniture, their eyes wide like dogs waiting for a treat. Hyunjae and Juyeon probably looked similar from their perches.

“He asked for proof of my girlfriend,” Sangyeon said as he closed the front door behind him.

Hyunjae snorted, catching a slight glare from the eldest in the room. For however long, their friend group had an ongoing inside joke that Sangyeon pretended to have a “secret girlfriend.” It was only because Sangyeon had never once provided concrete proof, and maybe it was because he purposefully withheld it, but Hyunjae simply couldn’t understand why. Thus, the hilarious teasing of their eldest friend. Nonetheless, Hyunjae and everyone else remained curious as to the truth.

“Well then?” Juyeon pressed, “What’s the verdict, Cobie?”

The smile on his face really couldn’t be suppressed anymore, and it looked so close to a smirk. Jacob grinned, strolling over to the couch to resume his place between his best friend and girlfriend. “No comment.”

The room erupted into a loud groan from seemingly everyone. “What kind of answer—”

Even Sangyeon looked frustrated and his eyebrows furrowed together, paired with a slight parting of his lips. “Birthday Boy has so much audacity today. Dude, I literally showed you—”

At the sound of the doorbell tone, everyone paused. Hyunjae hopped off the counter, chirping, “I’ll get it!”

No one was opposed to Hyunjae opening the door as everyone else engaged in a battle of wits commenting on Jacob's refusal to confirm nor deny the existence of a future Mrs. Lee Sangyeon. Hyunjae reached the front door and peered through the peephole curiously—then stiffened.

You stood on the other side, your hands fidgety as you played around with the little gift bag in your hands, no doubt for Jacob.

He could hardly believe his eyes—you actually came.

He opened the door without much else left to do. Your gazes clashed in the front threshold of JC!Yn's apartment, your breaths leaving your lungs at the sight of the other. Hyunjae swallowed; he hated this tension, hated the way he couldn't just wind his arms around you as easily as he had done before. The palpitations of his heart were teetering on dangerous territory, and he chalked it up to the fact that he was nervous he might be making you uncomfortable.

"Hey, come in," he murmured low but soft, stepping aside to give you space. He barely registered the background noise at this point.

"Thanks," you said back, your voice barely audible. You stepped out of your shoes and nudged them toward the massive pile by the shoe rack, like an ocean of footwear wherein one must play a matching game in order to leave. You coughed, "Uhm, is there a place where I can put this?" You lifted your gift bag half-heartedly.

"Oh, I can put it—" he automatically reached out for it, and when his fingers grazed against yours, the two of you jolted, "—away," he stammered. You let go of it so he could quickly grab hold and make his very awkward escape.

He dipped into JC!Yn's room where all the presents were being stashed, allowing himself to soak in a bit of quiet, even if he could still hear the muffled party just outside the room. That had to be the worst thing ever. Why was he so jumpy around you? It couldn't be that you professed your being in love with him, right? He wished it wasn't like this.

He needed to talk to you, damn it, he needed to fix this—

But when he emerged from the room and into the main living space, he saw you chatting with YH!Yn and Kevin and Changmin. He watched you smile at them and laugh and look way less awkward than you'd been with him just a minute ago. He remembered what this week was, what Friday was.

Opening night: the culmination of months' worth of blood, sweat, and tears.

He'd been there for you since the beginning of it. He couldn't see you fail, and this was the first time he'd seen you not stressed. He didn't have the heart to ruin that for you right now.

So instead of marching up to you and requesting an audience, he made his way over to a few of his other friends to join whatever conversation they were having. He would fix things when you didn't have five thousand other things to worry about. Today wasn't about him, after all.

EPISODE TWELVE: CALL TIME, BABY!

TONIGHT was the night. You thought you were going to throw up, to be honest, and you gently sipped on an iced caramel macchiato to keep your energy up. Perhaps the caffeine was making you just a little jittery, but it was probably the nerves—

"Yn!"

"Yeah, what's up?" You exclaimed, stopping in your tracks and just barely dodging the pair of stagehands hustling a backdrop past you.

Jihoon gestured wide with his arms. "Where are you going? Preshow's in seven minutes."

Oh, right. Your eyes widened in incredulity at your absentmindedness and practically jogged over to Jihoon and the other end of the corridor that led back toward backstage, instead of wherever the fuck you were off to… "Sorry," you muttered, waving vaguely to your head, "dunno what's up with me right now. Is everyone ready? Everything in place?"

He nodded, his eyes leaving you for a second while someone said something to him in his headset. "Ugh, shit. We can't find SW!Yn—ever since she got that boyfriend of hers—"

Your hands flapped between the two of you as you nodded your head vigorously—yeah, it was definitely the caffeine. "She's probably in the sound booth with Chan and the others. She's not that boy crazy."

Jihoon made an unconvinced expression, but bid you farewell nonetheless. He probably knew more than you did, but that was expected since you weren't exactly a long-term staff member working backstage. Jihoon ran a tight ship; there was no way anyone would risk a Jihoon stare by saying hi to their significant other.

You held your head in your hand and set your drink down on one of the stools by the edge of the room so it wouldn't get knocked over. Tonight was Opening Night—the night. Tonight, there was a full house, including your friends and family, everyone at school, and about a dozen or so industry experts. The latter weren't just here for you, but for your acting peers, as well. This was a critical night for everyone. It absolutely had to go right.

You shifted the headset on top of your head and made your way back down the corridor. You were far too antsy to just stay in one spot.

"—can one of you go check Jess's hair and makeup—no, don't just rip it, hon, that's not how it works!" You recognized that anguished cry anywhere, and you peered into the dressing room Hongjoong and a swarm of other busy people were.

"What's going on?" You asked.

Hongjoong's head whipped around so fast you were surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Yn, thank God! You know how to braid?"

"Jess still needs hair and makeup?"

"Yes, one of my people had to call out sick—thanks Yn-ie!" You were already on your way to find where Jess was before he had finished his sentence. You'd hardly even processed the fact that one of the costume staff had to call out sick—that wasn't your main concern right now—you literally had less than five minutes to locate Jess and yeet yourself backstage.

The sound in your headset sparked to life. "Sound to Yn, Yn to sound. Can you hear me?" Bang Chan's voice echoed into your ears.

You narrowly got beheaded by a portion of the wedding arch coming down the hallway. "Loud and clear; fuck, it's a mess back here, Chan." God, your head hurt and the play hadn't even begun yet.

"Hey, man. Take a little breath, okay? Yeah, there you go."

You sucked in a very large breath of air. The adrenaline was pumping through your veins and your hands suddenly felt very cold. "Hyunjae usually helped me through opening nights," you exhaled, your head swerving left and right as you checked each room for Jess's presence. "Where is she?"

"I know, Yn," he said gently. "You can do this though. I know you can. You've been waiting for this for four years—hell, even longer than that."

Your head bobbed up and down as if he could see you—oh shit, was that her you just saw?

"He's probably sitting in one of those velvet seats, absolutely pumped for you."

"Even though I completely fucked up our friendship?" You choked out, flagging Jess down. The poor girl looked frantic as she was trying to finish her stage makeup while also braiding her hair. There was no way she could do both, but you admired the attempt. You began to help her out with her hair as she used her phone as a mirror.

"I don't know what happened, Yn, but he loves you too much to not be here tonight."

It was suddenly very difficult to swallow.

"Preshow in two. Are you ready for this, Director Ln?"

You finished the braid, snapping the elastic with a crisp thwip. Tapping Jess to let her know she was good to go, you made an immediate reverse maneuver to backstage. You took a deep breath in once more—held it—

Get your head in the game. Chan was right—you'd been waiting for this for far too long, worked far too hard. You needed to put faith in your abilities and your peers. "Let's do this."

When you returned to the main backstage portion, you found techies ready to go, as well as your main cast. You caught Younghoon's eyes, silently asking for him to round up Eunwoo while you got Sana and Miyeon. Quickly, the five of you met in the middle.

"Everyone feeling okay?" You asked them, making eye contact with each and every one of them.

There was a buzz about the air, both nervous and excited. You could feel it in the way your hands shook, but you reminded yourself this was what you lived for. Someone, probably Chan, gave you the one minute warning.

"We're gonna do great out there," Younghoon affirmed.

"And when in doubt," Miyeon chimed in, "just improvise."

A small chuckle rang out, and you could hear the countdown in your ear. You had to go out on stage and greet everyone.

"Okay, I got my cue," you said to them. "Break a leg, everyone. Chins up, alright?"

"You too, Yn," Younghoon said to you with a pointed look.

A smile graced your face then, and something settled within your chest—finally—something like a calm. "I will."

— ✶

The only reason why Hyunjae knew how expensive flowers were was because he was well-versed in the nature of presenting you with them after each production you'd completed, whether that be through theater or film. It was all standard practice, and he couldn't believe Sunwoo had the audacity to argue with him and his girlfriend about when to send flowers backstage.

Flowers were to be withheld from reaching the actor, staff, or director until the end of the performance. It was just one of those other superstitious things.

So here he was, sitting shoulder to shoulder between Juyeon and a stranger, with a lap full of vibrant blooms in what he thought were the best seats in the house: the lower balcony seats. They were probably his favorite place to get a proper view of the stage while also not being as high as the top balcony and seeing the top of actors' heads. Maybe it was the child in him that liked anything concerning the balcony.

The play had been going strong for the entire run time. You had come out on stage at the very beginning to welcome everyone and thank them for coming tonight. All the relevant information about the play could be found in the playbills that were handed out at the door, and he had instinctively flipped through each page until he could confirm your name and Younghoon's were there. That had definitely brought a smile to his face.

But even now, as the play was coming to an end and the main characters ended up happy together, Hyunjae still couldn't get the smile off his face.

At curtain call, all the actors lined up on stage to take their bows. When you came out to gesture to your acting peers and take your own bow, everyone in Hyunjae's row, especially himself, stood to give you the standing ovation you deserved. Hyunjae's eyes watered as he whooped and cheered and whistled as loud as he could since the flowers made it difficult to clap.

As he and everyone else sat back into their seats, he had to sneak a hand up to delicately wipe his right eye.

"That's my best friend," he said to no one in particular, his laugh watery but proud.

The woman next to him heard him, though. "She's incredible."

Hyunjae smiled at her, then turned his head toward the stage again where you were corralling the main cast in a massive hug onstage. "I know; she's amazing." I love her.

— ✶

The entire performing arts hall was in a state of utter pandemonium. Both the auditorium and the backstage areas were swarmed with people trying to get out of the building, trying to find their friends, and a butt load of other things. You and all the cast members began helping backstage crew take everything down and lock them up; after all, they would need to be preserved for the next two performances of the show that would carry on through the first couple of weeks of summer. Opening Night was only the "presentation" of your thesis.

Tomorrow was Commencement Day—there were a great handful of you graduating literally tomorrow, including yourself, and so you'd all resolved to go home and save the celebration for another night.

As you wandered through the corridors and dressing rooms, you were sure to congratulate everyone for their hard work tonight. Your cheeks ached from smiling, pride singing through your blood, as well as the lingering adrenaline. But you couldn't deny that you were relieved that the night had gone, and gone well.

Friends and family members of the cast and crew began trickling into the backstage area, so the space to roam lessened considerably.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjae had rushed back here faster than his friends could stop him, antsy to finally congratulate you and let you know how proud he was and how great the play was. He craned his head over the sea of people, half his bouquet no doubt squished, but he was still determined.

There—he spotted the blazer you wore on stage—but you were all the way at the end of the corridor. There was no easy way through the people, and who knew if you would leave before he could get to you.

"Yn!" He hollered over all the noise.

Like clockwork, your head whipped around from the stagehand you were speaking animatedly with in search of who had called your name. You locked gazes with him, and there was a softening in your features.

(In a crowded room, all I'd see is y—)

His heart leapt and his legs jump-started into high gear, murmuring out sorries as he maneuvered his way toward you. There were tears pricking at his vision; he never cried for anything or anyone, but you'd been the only one to draw such emotion from him. You were the only one who deserved that emotion.

"Jae, you're here," you breathed out, but then somebody tapped your shoulder and nodded in the direction from which you came.

He saw the concern on your face, the sense of responsibility, and yet the reluctance, as well. "Call me when you're done," he said. He mustered a smile, pushing the flowers into your dumbfounded hands. "Promise to call me."

You managed to nod. "Yeah," you swallowed, "thanks for coming tonight."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

EPISODE THIRTEEN: ALL THE WORLD'S OUR STAGE

A couple of hours later, you'd managed to express your gratitude to nearly everyone and their mother for their work and help, as well as convince Jihyo to answer any calls that came in regarding the play tonight. It was a big ask and you had been reluctant to ask that of her, but you also knew you needed to talk to Hyunjae.

You made your way out the back door of the performing arts hall and into the warm, early Summer night. There weren’t too many people still around since the only handful of people left in the performing arts center were all older staff members and faculty. You spotted Hyunjae leaning against the wall by the staircase, his gaze lifting from his phone when he sensed you coming toward him. A small smile curled onto his lips, and you realized how much you missed the sight of it.

“Hey, sorry you had to wait for a while,” you said as you approached.

He tucked his hands into his pockets. “No, don’t worry about it. The play was—it was incredible, Yn. I’m really proud of you.”

Those words struck you even harder than you imagined him saying he loved you back would have. It meant a lot coming from other people, but it meant the most coming from him. “Thanks,” you rasped, the emotion shining through your voice, and you had to consciously reign yourself in. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, and I know that my confession was kind of unexpected.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for that, Yn,” he said gently, his teeth biting down on his lower lip slightly. “I’m the sorry one. I mean, it was so stupid that I even entertained the idea of Ellie being remotely correct. It was a breach of trust and I crossed a boundary that I shouldn’t have. For that, I’m so sorry.”

You motioned to the path leading down the stairs and toward a path even you knew not where it would lead the two of you tonight. Hyunjae heard your silent suggestion, and the two of you began descending the stairs together, side by side. “Maybe I thought I wasn’t ready at that moment,” you confessed, “but maybe it was what needed to be said, you know?”

When you glanced over at him, you found that he was already looking back at you, clinging onto every word that came out of your mouth.

Your heart rate was still rocketing into the atmosphere right now, but you knew that it wasn’t from the play. “I think that I needed to say that—no matter if I was ‘ready’ or not. I don’t think I would have ever been ready, but…” Your foot hit the bottom step of the stairs, and you turned on the ball of your feet to face him, guiding the two of you down the path and away from your normal direction toward the bus station. “Before you say anything, just hear me out, okay?”

Hyunjae gave a nod, and your heart stuttered in your chest as you forged onward. “You don’t have to affirm my feelings if you don’t feel the same way,” you said, returning to your normal position at his side, “I think that was why I’ve been so afraid of telling you all this time—that you wouldn’t feel the same. That, and the fact that I was scared that telling you would absolutely wreck our friendship like it did these past few weeks.”

From beside you, Hyunjae managed to keep quiet, but his voice was also jammed inside his throat. It was filled up with all the things he’d wanted to say to you first, all the things that he wanted to say in response to what you were telling him now.

“Ellie confronted me the week after our fallout.” Hyunjae stiffened—had she done anything to you? “She told me that she was the one behind all the ‘pranks’ or whatever throughout the play rehearsals.”

“Yn, those weren’t pranks,” Hyunjae couldn’t help but cut in, “it was plain sabotage.”

Sabotage. You’d come to fear labeling her actions with that word, simply because you didn’t want to believe that that was her true intention. You struggled to swallow, stopping in the middle of the walkway. The two of you faced each other then, his eyebrows pressed together in shock and anger and every emotion in between. “She told me she did it to get back at me.”

“For what?”

“I abandoned her,” you told him. That emotion on his face shuddered like ripples in a pool of water. “It’s neither of your faults either, but I guess what I thought was drifting away from her and becoming closer to you, she saw in a more malicious light. And she said that she’d been sick of living in my shadow despite not even being in my life, and I’ve just been thinking about that for a while.” You said you’d be there for her, that she’d always be enough for you… how ironic that you’d been the one to drift away.

Hyunjae peered at you, a mess of things going through his head. You couldn’t imagine what he was thinking about right now, but you knew he was never the best at expressing his emotions and vulnerabilities.

It was okay, though. He didn’t have to say anything. “In that moment, I cut off all ties with her,” you clarified, “when she told me it was all her doing. Now, I just feel a little sad; I wished she would’ve just said hi to me.”

Hyunjae wet his lips, grasping your shoulders to get your attention. “You know you didn’t deserve any of that, right? All that shit she gave you? I mean, she pretty much terrorized you, Yn, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

You wondered—no, you knew—he was probably beating himself up inside for the argument the two of you had, too. The combined force of all of those tough conversations, as well as the pressure from the play… “I’m okay, Jae,” you reassured him. This time, you even believed what you said. “I’m shaken, no doubt, but it’s something that will pass with time.”

In this lighting, he was beautiful, ethereal. The amber streetlight casted a heavenly glow upon him, and made his eyes glimmer like the moon off a still body of water. You’d written something like that description somewhere in the original script, and you realized just how intimately you’d projected your reality into the lines of that production. Perhaps one day, you’d have the strength to point them all out to him.

A thought suddenly occurred to you in the silence, and your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Oh my god.”

“What? What’s wrong—”

“I never got to see your finalized capstone project!” You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth in scandal. “Shit, the showcase for it was yesterday, wasn’t it? Oh shit, I’m awful—” For as supportive as Hyunjae had been with your final project, you had neglected to even think about his thesis these last weeks. Guilt coursed through your body in waves and you wanted to screech—

“Hey, honey,” he chuckled good-naturedly, “it’s okay. You were busy; don’t sweat it.” He bit his lip again, but it did nothing to suppress the shit-eating grin on his face. “Wanna go see it now? I’m sure they haven’t cleaned everything up yet.”

Your heart skipped for a new reason now. “You’re gonna break into the architecture building?” You laughed.

“It’s not breaking and entering if you have access,” he said in a “duh” tone, waving around his student ID.

As the two of you made a swift reverse back up the stairs from which you’d come from, you gaped at his ID card in disbelief. “I can’t believe they gave you clearance.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. “Why wouldn’t they grant their top student clearance on his last week?” He sniffed jokingly.

The pairing of dialogue and execution made a giggle sputter out of you, the sound making Hyunjae’s chest feel warm and fuzzy. He hated the tension that had wrapped itself around the bones of his ribcage, but those vines were slowly loosening and blooming into something familiar, and yet new.

The trek to the architecture building was well-worn by both you and him. You hadn’t been by the architecture building in awhile because of your busy schedule, but you used to always pop by to either walk him to lecture or to come visit him while he was working. The building was built in a Greco-Roman style with columns and arches, and beautifully carved marble murals and statues around the perimeter of the roof. You knew that the building style in particular was never Hyunjae’s taste, but you remembered when the two of you had toured the school in your senior year of high school, he had been awestruck nonetheless.

Just as he had said it would, his ID card slid against the panel outside the front doors to the architecture building and came up green.

The two of you, feeling just like you were kids again, giggled as you crept into the darkness of the foyer. Hyunjae grabbed your hand without thinking and dragged you down the right hallway toward one of the larger conference-style classrooms on the ground floor. He didn’t bother turning on any lights in case security came by and saw, but there was a conveniently-placed streetlight right outside the window anyway.

“There’s my masterpiece,” he said quietly, a sort of jitteriness coming through his voice.

You let go of his hand so you could inspect the model he constructed. The feature piece seemed to be the massive clear dome on the top, as well as the smaller, surrounding establishments. “It’s amazing, Jae. This is so cool.”

He almost looked shy as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest and watched you. “Ah, thanks. It’s, uh, a proposed model for a new performing arts department.”

Your head turned to him then. “No way.”

“Yes way,” he smiled. “I don’t know if it’ll get taken up by the board or not, but I gave them my whole spiel yesterday.”

“You’re gonna give me the spiel, too, right?”

Hyunjae made a face, feigning reluctance, but you were already dragging one of the chairs over so you could sit for his little presentation. “I mean, I guess I remember enough to do it again.” He took up his rightful place right next to his model, in front you, and cleared his throat to give you his speech.

The speech went wonderfully; you cheered as quietly loud as you possibly could. Your face was split by a bright smile that you were sure was enough to power the lights in this building if you really wanted to. If the board didn’t take up Hyunjae’s proposed new model after that, then you were about to send a strongly worded letter to the dean.

Hyunjae took on a boyish sort of smile after the moment had come and gone. “Hey, you wanna see something cool?”

“Cooler than this?”

“Pfft,” he dismissed nonchalantly, “you flatter me. But yeah, actually. Come on—it’s on the second floor.”

You quickly shoved your chair back into place and followed Hyunjae as he practically ran out of the room and up the stairs to the second floor. He had far too much energy for it being around ten o’clock at night, but when you saw the absolute glow on his face when he took you from project to project, gushing and nerding out about all the clever designs, you didn’t have the energy to even question his energy. There was something utterly contagious about hearing him talk about his major with such passion; you were so glad he had found a home in this field.

When the two of you finally let yourselves out of the architecture building, it was probably around an hour later. Your body ached with exhaustion, but your brain was abuzz with activity. You had missed this, missed him so much. For the first time in a very long time, you had never felt this carefree before.

“Can you believe we’re actually graduating tomorrow?” You asked him as the two of you walked toward the direction of the street your town house was on.

Hyunjae snorted. “No, not at all,” he said with a shake of his head. “Well, I’m actually so glad that I’m finally getting out of here, but it’s kind of scary, too.”

You gave a nod, then tilted your head back to breathe in the comfortable, night air. There were stars up in the sky tonight. “Yeah, I get that. Like, where will we all be, y’know?”

“Right.”

“But I think that the unknown in general will always be scary,” you added. “In the end, we’ll always know that everything will turn out okay.”

“And if it’s not okay, then it isn’t the end yet,” Hyunjae replied with a pointed look.

“Exactly.” You had a few options lined up for you after graduation, but you’d told yourself beforehand that you would deal with all of that after commencement day. After months and years of working nonstop, you deserved a little rest before fully stepping into the adult world. Wow, what a scary thought, indeed. "I'm proud of you, Hyunjae."

He had to stop himself from breaking down right there. "I'm proud of you, too, Yn."

The walk home was quiet, but it was as if a layer of film had been laid over just you and Hyunjae. The white noise of the night became somewhat calming for you, and you felt yourself sinking into a state of serenity. You had confessed your love for him already—he finally knew how you felt—but funny enough, that was freeing.

That had been your biggest secret, and finally being able to lift that burden from your chest was… it was good. Everything was good now.

Hyunjae softly said, "I know that you probably have so much to do after graduation tomorrow, but we've always wanted to go on a road trip cross-country."

When you looked up over at him, he could read the excitement glittering in your irises. "You're right! Man, that conversation was so long ago. I mean… I won't be so busy after graduation, not immediately. I want time to enjoy freedom with you," you laughed, lightly punching his shoulder.

He chuckled, your words soaking into his skin like sunlight on the first warm day after a harsh winter season. "I think it'd be nice, just the two of us." He couldn't wait.

There was an earnestness in the way you looked at him then. His thoughts had been all over the place before, but now, they were beginning to clear. "I think that'd be nice, too."

Your townhouse was now in sight, and a distinct feeling of anxiety rose in his throat. It was bitter-tasting, the way he dreaded leaving you for the night even if he would most definitely see you again tomorrow. He didn't know why inviting himself in like he usually did was so difficult now, but suddenly, you were both standing in the middle of the entryway and you were getting your keys from your bag.

It was late; he shouldn't keep you up. You'd had a long day.

"—you tomorrow then. Thanks for tonight, Jae."

He wrapped his arms around you just as you hugged him, his face pressed against the crown of your head and yours pressed into his shoulder. He didn't want to let go, but it was late—

"Good night," he said, nearly inaudibly.

"'Night," you said, going into the house and closing the door.

Maybe it was the physical, literal visual of you closing the door on him, but the epiphany hit him like a bus.

EPISODE FOURTEEN: AAAND THAT'S A WRAP!

YOU were about five steps from dropping to the floor and sleeping for about five years. Of course, you could not do that because you literally had to wake up to graduate tomorrow, but right this moment, you were so excited to just face plant into your pillow.

Tap!

The first time, you hadn't even heard the tiny noise as you shuffled into your attic bedroom and set your bag on the floor at the foot of your bed.

TAP!

Actually, you hadn't even heard it the second time—

BONK!

"What the…" Your head whirled around toward the window. You could have sworn you heard something hit the window pane. Cautiously, you walked up to the glass and peered out into the darkened street. It was a little difficult to see given the contrast between the light of your bedroom, the dark of night, and the fogging acrylic pane—

You nearly screeched as a small pebbled hit the window, right where your face would have been. What the fuck—?

Immediately, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Could this have been Ellie trying to spook you again? No way, right? Plus, wasn't Hyunjae just walking by?...

Oh, wait.

With a huff of indignation, you wrestled with the latch on the window pane just as another tiny rock came flying at the glass. "Hold your horses," you muttered, finally managing to haul the dusty window up. You only ever really opened this window during the warmer months, and so you hadn't used it since probably late fall quarter.

You stuck your head out the window, and surprise surprise, Hyunjae was tossing another piece of ammo up and down in his palm, down at street level. "What is wrong with you?" You stage whispered.

His mouth curved into a frown, head tilting, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

"What," you repeated firmer this time, "is wrong with you?"

"I needed to get your attention," he shrugged.

"You couldn't just text?"

"Isn't this what Romeo did?"

Clearly, someone hadn't been paying attention when you were studying for your classes on Shakespeare in both high school and second year of college. "No," you quipped, "and Romeo was stupid."

Hyunjae sighed, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, dropping the pebble in his hand to the ground. "Okay, so maybe I'm not some Romeo—" You weren't quite sure where he was going with this.

He started walking around, pacing the sidewalk in front of your townhouse since he couldn't stand directly below the window (your roommate would kill him if he killed her azaleas). For a moment, you were ready to go down there yourself and shake the words from him, but it seemed he was able to snap himself into focus.

"I just… it's taken me a long time—god, it always takes me a long time to come up with the words for this type of stuff," he stumbled over his words, and you felt yourself grow increasingly tender. He was never good at wearing his heart on his sleeve. "And my friends have been saying it this whole time—hell, I've probably been aware of it unconsciously this whole time, too! But you know how I am. I'm too damn stubborn to cave, even to myself."

You let him continue on without breaking his monologue. Though you couldn't be too sure what this was, your heart still galloped in hope.

"Yn, I'm—" he said, head tilting back to meet your eyes so you could see those beautiful irises of his, "—I'm in love with you, too."

This was really happening, huh? Your fingers curled around the window sill and you opened your mouth in an effort to say something, but then you closed it. The words and the thoughts were there, but it was so foggy in your mind that you couldn't even string the words together yourself either.

You watched the hope, the light, gradually fade from his expression, even if he wasn't actively trying to show it. "Please tell me to go home if you're not gonna say anything," he said to you next. "I know you're tired, but god, I just stood here and realized I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't tell you. I know it's selfish, but…" He lifted his hands in sort of a helpless gesture, his hands then falling limp at his sides.

Finally, you found your voice. You cleared your throat, then asked quietly, albeit a tad nervously, "This—this isn't just because you feel bad about what I said about not reciprocating, right? I mean, higher levels of excitement and arousal can be misattributed to feelings sometimes—"

Hyunjae shook his head. "Dear god, no. I've just been… I've just been really stupid, so, uhm, maybe I am like Romeo?"

You fought the smile on your face, but it seemed you lost the battle. "Silly goose," you teased, laughing as you shook your head. "You ain't no Romeo, Lee Jaehyun, but I've never wanted anyone but you anyway."

He broke into a laugh at that, the sound echoing in the streets, and it sounded like, if one could bottle up pure delight and release it to the world. "You're so much better at this than me."

"Clearly."

"Well," he bit his lip, his smile impish, "can I kiss you to make up for it?"

Oh, there went your heart—there it went, carrying you down the stairs and out the door—you would have leapt out the window if you were physically able (you weren't). Your heart carried you all the way outside again until you arrived in your best friend's arms, his face, his smile illuminated in the soft glow of the streetlight.

And he held you so tight, you couldn't tell if that beating at your chest was his heart or yours. The two of you wasted no time in pressing your mouths to the other, tasting the other's smile in one more way than you'd ever done before.

It felt, at that moment, that this might have marked act three of one part of your life—but act one of the next was just beginning.

Perhaps it was true then: when it counted, you always went back to your first love.

a/n: heyy thank you for reading thru!! i hope u enjoyed and if u did, pls do consider commenting, reblogging, or sending an ask :] we do love a bit of humility in the end ayo :3 the original plan is to go for sunwoo's next o7

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