#i am excited for the fluffy college au to finally begin

[jeonjungkookenthusiast1997]

First Loves and Second Glances

Han Jisung is madly in love with his childhood best friend/roommate and has absolutely no way of telling her so he does what he thinks is best and pulls away from her. The pair end up having a movie night where all is revealed, changing the dynamics of their relationship forever.

This is my own work not a reblog, please do not repost or translate! This work of fiction is 18+ so minors DNI.

Content Warnings - childhood friends au, college au, roommates au, friends to lovers au, nipple play, vaginal fingering, pet names, cursing, oral sex (male receiving), body worship, very very light angst, porn with feelings

Word Count: 5,360 (I am seriously incapable of writing short fics, I'm so sorry 😂🙈)

Navigation

Y/L/N Y/N and Han Jisung have been roommates for what seems like forever and friends for even longer, first meeting when they were both wide eyed and chubby 5 years olds looking for a friend on the playground. They had stayed at each other's sides through every up and down life thrown their way, for every big life event and now they were living together while attending the same college. Y/N was studying War and World History while Han was of course studying Audio Production and Engineering, it had seemed like the obvious choice for them to live together while venturing out into the unknown.

The atmosphere is calm and quiet as they sit across from each other, Y/N reading an interesting book about Dokkaebi while Han stares blankly at the ceiling. Y/N looks up from her book to see Han with his arms outstretched and his body slumped over almost fully on the floor as he screeches loudly before locking eyes with the girl across from him "I'm bored!" He whines impatiently as his arms flop around making Y/N giggle under her breath "do something productive then Ji" she explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world which makes the boy pout and whine "but do what Y/NNN" she rolls her eyes at his antics before suggesting "why don't we watch that marvel movie you like? the Spiderman one? we could make popcorn and get some fluffy blankets to snuggle up with? chilled night in" she finishes smiling at him.

Han's chocolate coloured eyes light up at the mention of the movie as he nods eagerly "yeah, that sounds like a plan!" He grabs her hand and starts to pull her along "let's go!" she shakes her head slightly while smiling and allows her friend to pull her from where she had been sat on the plush sofa "I'm coming Ji, you can set up Disney Plus and I'll grab the popcorn" Han finally let go of her hand and skips over to the TV stand, his excitement evident in his movements. He grabs the remote and begins to search for the movie on the streaming service, meanwhile Y/N makes her way to the kitchen to prepare the popcorn.

Y/N smiles as she thinks about how cute Jisung is when he's in moods like this but shakes her head of the thoughts and grabs the bag putting it into the microwave then dumping the contents into a large bowl and sitting back down on the sofa, Han finally finds the movie pausing it as the movie starts to play to let them get comfortable. He hums along to the familiar theme song, his excitement growing. Once everything was set up, he turns to Y/N with a bright smile "alright, it's ready I'll grab the blankets" she smiles back and nods patiently waiting for him to return.

Once he's back he throws the blankets onto her head with a laugh before plopping himself down next to her "you're such a child Ji" she laughs as she shoves the blankets back at him before draping them over the pair and smoothing them down, Han giggles like a schoolgirl and rolled his eyes playfully. He acknowledges in his own mind that she was just teasing him; he snuggles closer to her under the blanket, his warmth enveloping them both "you love it when I act like this" he laughs as she pushes his side playfully "do I?" she giggles pressing the popcorn bowl into his arms before she presses play on the device and settles herself into his side.

Han takes the popcorn bowl gratefully starting to munch on the popcorn, he rests his chin on her head with his eyes fixed on the screen. As the movie starts he let out a content sigh and snuggled deeper into the plush blankets, as he gets comfy Jisung's left hand moves down to rest on her hip effectively pulling her closer to his frame as his gaze is focused on the movie. Y/N feels him pulling her into him and her face heats up a little, they usually cuddle all the time but things have felt different lately Jisung's been acting a little standoffish and having him do close was causing an unknown feeling to inch across her chest.

She snuggles closer to her friend's chest and without looking at him breaks the silence "I've missed this, getting to chill out with my best friend watching movies y'know you haven't been around much lately" she can't help the pout that adorns her glossy lips, his heart skips a beat when he feels her hand on his chest.

He didn't want to admit it, but he had been pulling away from her a bit lately and the guilt he's been feeling is squeezing his chest as he sighs "I know and I'm sorry" he tears his gaze from the screen to look down at her "we'll do this more often, I've missed it too" she hums at his words and pushes his chest slightly giggling "we had better! You've been with Changbin and Chan a lot lately, I've been feeling kinda... left out" she admits as she pouts again and rests her head on his chest as she mumbles "been missing my best friend" Han's heart clenches tightly when she mentions Changbin and Chan.

He knew he'd been spending more time with them but he had to pull away from her for his own sanity. Being around the girl he harboured such a big crush on was hurting him, everytime she smiled at him or giggled at his antics it sent a harpoon straight to his heart and he couldn't be the friend she deserved unless he took a break from being planted firmly at her side. Even now with her small hand curled into his shirt and her head against his chest it was making his heart fill with love and affection "I know I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you I promise" she sighs softly at his words "I know you will Ji" she mumbled into his chest, her fingers tightening their hold on his shirt "I've missed just being with you like this" she admitted quietly, her cheek still resting against him and a small pink blush dusting her cheeks.

She clears her throat slightly before she asks "how are the guys? they've been keeping you so busy but you never talk about what you get up to?" She tries to smile as she pushes down the slight sting of jealousy setting root in her chest, Han feels her fingers tighten their grip and can't help but smile softly. She never was very good at hiding her feelings from him, he knew she was probably feeling a little jealous and of course left out as she had said and it stung at his chest that he had caused those feelings "they're fine" he shrugs "there's not a lot to tell honestly, we usually just hang out at the gym" she frowns at his words but decides to leave it if he doesn't want to talk about it "are you staying here tonight? it's been a while since my roommate stayed in his own bed" she squints her eyes in a mildly accusatory manner as she waggles her finger at him.

Han chuckled softly at her playful manner and grabs her finger tugging her fully into his body as they both laugh "yeah I am, after the movie I'll be heading to bed I think" as his words trail off he yawns and lifts his arms over his head making his shirt lift revealing some of his toned skin, her eyes flick down as she sees the material lift and gulps as his toned abs are flashed momentarily. She quickly averts her eyes so as to not be caught ogling her friend's bare skin as she tries to move the inappropriate thoughts out of her mind "aww poor baby had a long day huh Ji" she stifles a laugh as she teases him.

Han couldn't help but laugh at her reaction throwing his head back and whining "I'm fine, just a little tired" he shrugs his shoulders and looks down at her face which is now not attached to his body, making him want to pout and pull her back to him but he refrains "so how have you been lately since as you so eloquently put it I've been a little MIA?" she nods and shrugs "been okay, just gone to lectures and came home" she laughs softly as she shakes her head "it gets boring here with you not around so you need to come home more often okay?" She intertwines her fingers and gives him her best puppy dog eyes.

Han couldn't help how his heart beat a little faster looking at her cute face smiling at her puppy dog eyes as he covered his eyes dramatically "oh god no! not the eyes" he cries as she laughs at him "I'll try my best to come home more often" he pulls her back to him and nuzzles her cheek with his nose, the pair had always been physically affectionate with each other so having him not be around had left her feeling down and mopey.

Y/N playfully attempts to push his face away though she secretly enjoys and has missed his touches "good because otherwise I'd have to put my foot up your ass and drag you back here" she turns her attention back to the movie trying to concentrate a little.

Han couldn't help but chuckle at her playfulness, glad she had seemingly forgiven him, his heart still racing a little from her body being near his own "oh you wound me! You'd really kick my ass?" he teases with his body still pressed against hers "I most definitely would if you deserved it" she smirks at his shocked face "it would make me a little sad though to hurt your adorable face" she uses her hands to gently grip his jaw as she pushes his cheeks together, squeezing the soft skin under his fingers.

He looks down at her a little dazed as a blush creeps up his neck from her teasing, his heart skipping a beat as he looks into her eyes "you're so mean to me sometimes" he whines trying to hide racing heartbeat, his arms move to grip her wrists and his eyes can't help but watch her pretty face. Her thumbs smooth over his face as she stops playing his cute cheeks "I know and somehow you still love me" she giggles as she moves her hands away.

He bites his lip as he looks at her and nods replying before he can think about what he's saying "yeah, I really do love you" his eyes slowly sink down to her lips. Her eyes widen slightly at his words and she feels like can barely breathe as she realises her best friend is looking at her lips like he's about to kiss her "you what?" she whispers barely audible.

Han's eyes widen once he realises what he had said out loud but it was too late the truth was there, he loved her, and all he could do now to fix the situation was to try to brush it off "I mean, I love you, as a friend you know... yeah that what I meant..." he stutters as he looks away completely embarrassed and feeling a sting enter his heart as he took her reaction as a rejection. Y/N frowns as she looks at his dejected face, he's starting to move away from her as she realises so she needs to act quickly "wait Ji" she grabs his arms and pulls him back towards her but he just looks down and fiddles with the blankets "please look at me Jisung" but Han couldn't look at her, his lip was starting to wobble as tears started to brim against his eyelashes and he simply shakes his head not trusting his words.

She feels desperation claw at her chest as she scrambles to fix the situation "Jisung please just look at me, we need to talk about this" she pleads with him "do you really..." she can't finish her sentence as anxiety runs along her arms to her heart, the words she wants to speak stick to her throat and tongue. He closes his eyes tightly before he nods still not looking at her and sighs "yeah I really do" he takes a deep breath before he opens his eyes and looks at her "I really do love you, with all of my heart" he barely gives her a moment to digest the information before he's stuttering over his words "I always have but I don't expect... it doesn't have to change... I know you probably don't feel the sa-" his words are cut off as Y/N grips the back of his neck and plants a small chaste kiss against his lips "stop rambling Ji" she smiles as she kisses him again as gently as a feather brushing against his skin while she waits for him to calm down enough for them to talk.

Han couldn't believe it. He was stunned for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, his lips finding hers in a much more passionate kiss this time around. He groans into the kiss, his heart racing as he feels her body pressed against his. She giggles at his forwardness when just a moment ago he was so shy, she pulls away from his tight hold on her body just slightly so she can look at his face "I love you too Ji" she smiles before giving him a soft kiss on his lips then plants a kiss on the tip of his nose.

Han's heart skips a beat at her words, his eyes widening in surprise before he pulls her back into a hug, his face buried in her neck. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he speaks again "you do? fuck... please don't play with me Y/N" he whimpers as he holds her tight "please be really real with me right now" she frowns as she places her hands on his cheeks to holds him steady so he can look into her eyes as she speaks "I love you Ji, I'm so in love with you" she breathes out as she smiles "I love you so much and I have since the day you fell over that hot dog cart trying to get food for us…"she pauses as he smiles at the memory "you make me smile on my darkest days and you've had my back for so long now I... I can't imagine my life without you" Han's eyes widen in disbelief as he stares into her eyes.

Taking in every word she says. He feels like he's floating on air, his heart soaring with happiness. He's so lost for words all he can do is pull her onto his lap into his arms as a tears of happiness runs down his cheeks "oh Ji" she whispers as she uses her thumb to swipe away the stray tears "why are you crying" she frowns slightly, her brow creasing "I'm just so happy Y/N" he says, his voice cracking slightly as he wipes away more tears as they drop to his cheeks "I love you so much" he whispers, his lips brushing against hers softly before pressing into a more passionate kiss "always have, always will" he mumbles against her lips.

She nods and smiles at his words before she returns his kisses, greedily enjoying the feeling of his lips finally on her own wanting to take her time to live in this moment she has waited so long for. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls herself impossibly closer to his body, the movie long forgotten and the popcorn set to the side of the sofa. Han's heart races as he feels her pull him closer, his hands finding their way to her waist before sliding up to her back, pulling her body flush against his. He deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing her lips gently before slipping inside her mouth in a passionate embrace.

Y/N whimpers slightly, feeling his hands move over her body before she pulls away breathlessly, she rests her forehead against his own "how come you never told me" Han's breathing is heavy as he looks into her eyes, his heart racing. "I... I didn't want to ruin our friendship," he admits his voice barely above a whisper. "I wasn't sure you would even like me back" he mumbles as he sighs "you're so important to me sweetheart, I couldn't bear the thought that you'd reject me and it'd all be so awkward that we couldn't be friends anymore" she blushes a soft pink at the sudden term of endearment "I'd never be able to just walk away from you Ji no matter what happened between us, it'll always be us two against the world" she smiles as she rubs her nose against his own.

His heart swells at her words, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he nods "us against the world sweetheart," he whispers before giggling sweetly, his fingers tracing her jawline gently "god I love you so much" he bites his lip as he moves to place soft kisses against her cheek and jaw, her eyes flutter shut as she enjoys his soft touches "I love you too Han Jisung" she whispers as to not disturb the atmosphere that has settled over them she threads her fingers through his hair as she holds him close, still sat in his lap.

Han's heart skips a beat at her words, his fingers tightening around her waist as he leans into her touch "you have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that," he whispers, his lips brushing against her earlobe "and now that you have, I'm never letting you go again" his teeth graze over her earlobe as he nibbles on the skin gently.

A whine catches in her throat as he teases her "you'd better not, I know where you live" she smiles gently as she subconsciously shifts in his lap causing his grip on her body to tighten. Han chuckles softly, his hands moving to cup her face gently "you're stuck with me now," he murmurs before leaning in to capture her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. He lets out a groan as she continues to wiggle in his lip "I'm trying real hard to be good here sweetheart" he moves his hand down to grip her hips tightly "but if you keep moving I'll have no choice but to stop holding back" he looks into her eyes with a mischievous glint shining in his own irises.

Her eyes widen slightly as she realises what she's been doing and is now able to feel the start of his excitement poke against her inner thigh from where she's sat on his lap. She gives another experimental and this time purposeful roll of her clothed crotch against his own causing him to groan again "maybe I don't want you to be hold back anymore Ji" she breathes out as she bites her lip, Han's head tips back against the plush material of their sofa as he rocks his hips up against her body at her teasing movements "fuck" he groans unashamed, his heart races as he feels her moving against him his hands gripping her hips tighter "then I guess I'll have to show you what happens when I'm not holding back" he smirks as he attaches his lips to her neck.

Y/N bites back a moan at the feeling of his clothed member rocking against her core "I've always wondered what you'd feel like" she gasps as he sucks and nibbles against her neck "when your fucking me" she rolls her hips harder grinding down against his body making wetness start to form against her panties making the material stick to her lower lips. Han's breath hitches as he feels her moving against him, his heart racing with anticipation "you're so fucking sexy," he murmurs against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tighter, he pulls back slightly to admire the marks he's left along the column of her neck "never realised my sweet girl was so dirty" he smirks as he moves a hand from her hip under her shirt feeling the skin of her tummy as his hand travels up and stops at her lacey bra.

Y/N's body shudders under his touch "only for you Ji'' she whimpers as she lifts her shirt up and over her head to expose her half naked upper body she reaches down to tug at the hem of Jisung's shirt "off please" he hums a little as he pretends to think "only because you asked so nicely" he smirks as he pulls his shirt over his head watching as she explores his chest with her hands "like what you see baby? 'cause I do '' he admires her black lace bra for a moment before he reaches behind her back to unclip it, letting it fall to the floor exposing her nipples to the cold air of the room.

She nods her head quickly "didn't realise you'd gotten to big" she murmurs as she lets her fingers wander down his chest "all that time with Changbin and Chan worked out for the best I guess" she smirks before she gasps, her back arching slightly as Han suddenly takes one of her nipples into his mouth. Han smirks as he hears her gasp "sorry couldn't wait any longer" his tongue licks over the hardening bud and he can't help the groan that escapes his mouth as he feels her arching into his touch.

He releases her nipple with a pop and smirks "you'll have to thank them when I finally let you out of my bed" he smirks before moving to the other nipple giving it the same attention. She lets out soft moans as he teases her nipples into small peaks, sparks of pleasure slipping down her body straight to her core as it starts to become unbearably wet "Ji... baby I need you" she moans again as she grinds her crotch against his now fully hard covered length.

Han groans low in his throat as he feels her wetness start to seep through her pants "oh yeah? where do you need me sweetheart" Y/N whimpers and grinds down on him against but Han tuts at her "use your words baby or we'll stay like this" she groans frustrated and grabs his wrist putting his hand down her pants "look what you've done to me Ji" she sighs as she feels his fingers start to explore her body.

He chuckles as he feels her warmth and readiness for him. He slowly starts to tease her entrance with his fingers, moaning softly as he feels her wetness coat his fingers "you're so fucking wet and tight baby, this all for me?" she nods her head and closes her eyes as she feels his fingers teasing at her walls as he pushes two fingers straight into her waiting entrance, a moan floods past her throat as he pleases her "all for you baby, only you" Han growls as he feels her walls start to clench around his fingers.

He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of her tight heat, moaning her name as he takes her "that's it baby, take my fingers. Show me how much you want me" she nods her head quickly "want you so bad Ji, please I need it" she whines as she rocks against his thick fingers "need your cock now" the brunette underneath her groans as he feels her tight heat squeezing his fingers. He pulls his fingers out of her slowly, leaving her aching for more "not yet sweetheart, trying to prep you" he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks her essence off with a moan at her taste.

Y/N shakes her head "I'm good, I can take it I'm so fucking wet please baby. Please Ji" she begs as she moves away to stand tugging her pants and panties down and throwing them off to the side before she climbs back onto his lap, Han shakes his head while laughing "fuck... you have no idea what hearing you beg for my cock is doing to me" he groans as he taps her thighs "up" she lifts up off his lap enough for him to shimmy his pants and boxers down letting his hot thick length spring up as a bead of precum beads down the head.

Once his pants are down Y/N finds purchase back on his thighs as her eyes watch the pre cum leaking from his slit, without much thought she bends down and swirls her tongue over the head of his cock before moving down to follow the streams of his pre, she licks it all up dutifully as he gasps feeling her warm tongue over his sensitive length. She lets out a soft moan as she finally tastes him, his eyes roll back into his head as he feels her warm tongue swirling around his head.

He grips the sides of the sofa as he chokes out a moan "F-fuck sweetheart, wasn't expecting you to suddenly start licking my dick like that" she smiles as innocently as she can, batting her eyelashes at him "sorry Ji I couldn't help myself, had to taste you" she gives him one last look and a wink before she gets back to work swirling her tongue over his slit continuously, licking up all the fluid releasing from his body "fuck you taste good and so pretty too" she switches from gently licking to suckling on his dick using her tongue to lick at the veins that run on the underside of his cock.

Han's hands grip the sofa tightly as he feels her warm mouth engulfing his cock head. He groans deeply, his hips bucking up involuntarily "fuck... Y/N" he pants out her name between moans "you're killing me, if you keep sucking me in like that I won't last" his thighs start to shake against her dainty hands. She gives him one last hard suck before she releases him with a 'pop' and a satisfied smile on her face, she crawls back up to him and hovers just above his spit covered cock "wanna ride you now, 'kay Ji? need to ride you" his breathing is ragged as he watches her crawl back up to him, the sight alone making his dick throb with need.

He nods eagerly, his eyes locked on hers "y-yes sweetheart, I want you to ride me" he stutters out his hands reaching down to grab her hips "shit please, ride me" she nods eagerly giving him one last look to make sure it's what they both want before she sinks down onto him, slowly taking him to the hilt as he stretches her walls so deliciously that she has to close her eyes at the stinging pleasure, she takes a moment to enjoying having his cock spearing her wet pussy.

Han's eyes roll back in his head as he feels her tightness engulfing him so beautifully he chokes out a groan "fuck wait - shit sweetheart you feel SO fucking good... I need a moment or I'll cum right now- shit" he breathes heavily as she giggles watching his struggle. After a few moments he nods and moves his hands to grip her hips tightly. Taking his nod as her sign to move she slowly starts to rock her hips in shallow thrusts, the movement causing both of them to moan in unison "ohh Ji~ you feel soo good inside me, fill me up so perfectly" she babbles as she starts rocking up and down faster.

Han's grips on her hips turns bruising as he holds her tight enjoying the feeling of her bouncing on his cock "always wondered what you'd look like... fuck- taking my cock" he groans as he moves a hand from her hip to her breast teasing the nipple in his fingers "god it's so much better than I imagined" he huffs out a short laugh at the thought before it twists into a moan as she moves faster.

She whimpers at his words as her thighs start to shake and feel the burn of the position she's been in for a while now but she can't slow her rhythm not when Jisung's cock is hitting her g-spot so perfectly that it's making her thoughts turn to white noise "used to think of your thick fingers working me open to take your cock when I would touch myself" she moans as her hips stutter slightly after a particularly deep downwards thrust "f-fuck~" she bites her lip hard. Her confession shocks him slightly before the lewdness of it spikes across his chest and makes his dick throb "y-you'll have to show me one day... how you play with your pretty little pussy" he grunts as he feels her pace falter, seeing she's getting tired he takes matters into his own hands.

Jisung moves his hands down to her thighs spreading them open as he thrusts up into her setting a rough pace that has her mewling against him, all she can do is nod furiously as her moans grow in volume "there Ji~ right there don't fucking stop!~" she whines loudly as her head lolls back and her thighs tremble. Her grip on his shoulders falters as he thrusts faster to meet her request.

Han's groans as she tightens around his length "play with your clit baby while I fuck you" his thrusts get faster as sweat beads across his forehead and chest, Y/N bites her lip as she sucks on her fingers before reaching down and rubbing fast circles against her swollen nub, every thrust and swipe of her finger gets her closer to her peak "J-Ji I- shit! fuck!" she gasps her chest heaving as her orgasm starts to hit.

Han bites his lip as her pussy clamps down tight on his cock as one last deep thrust sends her over the edge, her body shaking wildly as she moans his name cumming hard "shit! shit! Baby I'm C-Cumming! gonna fill you up with my cum" Jisung bites his lip as he gives a few last deep thrusts before he cums. Hot ropes of thick white cum paint her walls as their highs crest together, Y/N chest heaves as she starts to come down from the intense high.

Han's grip on her body loosens as she falls onto his chest, his throbbing cock still buried deep in her walls ``that was... intense" she smiles as she rests her head on his bare chest, Han chuckles as he kisses her forehead "glad you enjoyed it sweetheart" once his cock finally softens he lifts her body slightly and pulls himself out of her before returning her body back to his own. Y/N gives him a bright smile before resting her head back on his chest "we should probably talk about this" she grips his side tightly "us" Han nods in agreement "in the morning, for now let's just enjoy the moment and go to bed" he kisses her forehead then her cheek before lifting her into his arms and carrying her to his room.

She sighs contentedly as he slips her into his bed before climbing in behind her and pulling her close, he kisses her neck one last time before whispering "I love you Y/N" her heart skips a beat as she feels his warm breath against her neck "I love you too Ji" she smiles before letting sleep take her tired body.

Banner by: @cafekitsune 💙

[cupofmiko]

LOVELY TO BE HERE (WITH YOU) - midoriya izuku x f!reader 

with midoriya izuku, some things have always been easy. other things, however, have not.

genre: a strangers to lovers to exes to lovers au, pro hero au | angst, fluff

warnings: aged up characters (you and Izuku go through your 20s during this fic), a right person wrong time fic, hurt/comfort, happy ending, Izuku is taller than you, insecurity, talks of a boss/employee relationship (nothing happens during that time), making out, some smut (fem!recieving oral, mating press, slight dom!Izuku?? some dumbification… not actually sure I’m just putting it in the warning just in case, use of “pretty girl” and “good girl”), mentions of an outside natural disaster, arguments, you and Izuku gets a little Mean during the argument, Bakugou and Kirishima are your Helpful Friends and Good Bosses, some recreational alcohol consumption at a party

word count: 22k 

a/n: vaguely inspired by that tiktok trend with the “ceilings” by lizzy mcalpine audio… if you know you know. this is so behind the trend lol it ended up so much longer than i thought it would be so a lot of this hasn’t been thoroughly read through i am sorry lol 

.

You are twenty-two years old when you get the email - an offer letter that confirms your acceptance for an entry level office assistant position at Deku’s agency. And for someone like you who is in the final year of university and has been looking for a job to get a head start on your career, this is a very exciting opportunity. 

Not only is it a foot in the door for the hero industry, a very popular and competitive industry for any young college student, but it is with Deku. The hero from UA, the one who has been destined for the top since he was a teenager. 

According to the hiring manager, Deku is officially returning back to Japan after spending his first few years post-UA abroad in different countries. Different contract work with hero agencies worldwide. But now, with several years of experience under his belt, Deku has decided to return back home and start up his own agency. 

It’s intended to start as a small agency, the hiring manager had explained to you, a small but multi-talented team who can take on different responsibilities. And you, young and enthusiastic, played up your retail experience and the tutoring jobs you took on during those earlier college years. 

Clearly, you talked yourself up well because now you stand in front of Deku’s agency - a moderately sized building whose simplicity is reflected in the warm earth tones inside. Something in your gut tells you that this is the first page of a brand new chapter. 

The beginning of your first day is slow and typical of any first day experience. You remeet the hiring manager who introduces you to your boss and your responsibilities, which will mainly involve managing the front desk and answering the phone and making appointments for Deku. It is a little overwhelming, but you mask that incoming anxiety with a determination to do well. 

Your afternoon is spent filling out information for email accounts, taxes, and pay. The phone rings a few times, and your boss lets you know what to do based on the different phone calls. For a top hero agency, it’s surprisingly normal. 

So normal, that you almost forget who you’re working for until he walks through the front door of the agency. 

You look up and immediately feel your breath catch in your throat because holy fuck, it’s Deku walking towards you. It’s very strange to see the boy you’ve only watched through a laptop screen stand opposite of you. He’s much taller than you thought. His suit is more detailed, his hair more fluffy, his muscles more defined in person. It’s strange, seeing someone the same age as you hold so much power and confidence in a single stance. But his gaze is open, kind, and curious when he looks at you. 

“Hi there!” he greets cheerfully, approaching your desk. “You must be the new office assistant! I heard you were starting today - welcome!! It’s nice to meet you!! Are you adjusting well?” 

You blink, feeling like your brain is lagging behind to process the fact that pro hero Deku is even talking to you. Then, you realize that he has asked you a question. You close your mouth (one that you hadn’t even realized you opened) and try to string together a sentence. “O-oh, thank you! And I’m doing well… thank you, Deku.” You test out the hero name. It sounds so strange saying it out loud. 

Deku laughs, a shy almost unexpected sound that makes something flutter in your chest. “I’m glad to hear that! And call me Midoriya. I’m glad to have you on the team!” His eyes flicker down, taking in the new lanyard you’ve received - it was part of your welcome package that is meant to hold your employee ID. “I can see you’ve already decorated your lanyard! I like your pin.”

Now you’re surprised for a multitude of reasons. Not only did he speak words to you, he’s actually continuing that conversation by noticing something you never expected a boss to notice. And he’s being sweet, warm, and welcoming. 

You look down at your lanyard, bewildered as if you’ve never been a lanyard before, and see the pin you’ve haphazardly attached to the fabric. Glimmering on the metal is a character from your favorite movie - Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle. “Oh, t-thank you!” you manage, feeling warm, partly with embarrassment of having to explain a private interest, and partly because Deku actually looks genuinely curious in what you’re talking about. “He’s from this movie I really like. Howl’s Moving Castle?” 

Deku ponders for a second. “Oh! Studio Ghibli right? I’ve never seen that one, but my friends introduced me to Spirited Away and I really enjoyed that one!” 

“That’s a good one too,” you reply, losing enough nerves to actually feel your lips curve up into a small smile. Deku traces the movement quickly with his eyes. “That one and Howl’s Moving Castle are probably some of my favorites.” 

He nods approvingly. “I’ll have to ask my friend to show that one to me someday.” He gets distracted momentarily by his phone, picking it up and frowning. “Ah, sorry, I have a meeting to get to,” he explains, putting the phone back down. “But it was really nice meeting you.” 

Your smile grows a little, your head bowing a little to see him off. “It was nice meeting you too. Midoriya.” 

He mirrors your smile, likely proud that you’re calling him Midoriya, before he walks towards the main office floor. 

The phone rings before your gaze can linger for too long. 

. 

A full month goes by before you accept it. You have a crush on pro hero Deku. 

To be fair, it’s hard not to have a crush on Midoriya. He’s just so open and sweet, thoughtful and considerate - a little shy, but reassuring enough to make you feel safe with just one smile. 

Honestly? It’s a little infuriating. After all, Midoriya is… well, he’s pro hero Deku!! He’ll help old grandmothers cross the street and save a truck from falling off a bridge and then tackle a villain the size of a building all within the same day. He carries so much greatness, so much power, yet so many expectations on just one pair of shoulders. You see it on the news, in the meetings you have to schedule for him. Everyone wants a piece of him. 

It’s harder now since he’s just starting up as a pro hero in Japan. There are things he must do, cases he must solve, and people he needs to save in order to climb that ladder and establish himself. 

But still, despite himself, he stops by your desk every day. Either at the beginning of your shift or towards the end. He’s always had a busy day - you can tell as much because you help manage some of his appointments. Yet he never shows his exhaustion. He comes by, same bright smile, always asking about your day and chipping away at your apprehension. 

It gets to the point where you’re comfortable enough finally sharing some interests with Deku rather than brush it off every time he tries to ask. You talk about the movies you like, the music you listen to, the dinner you cooked last night. Deku (Midoriya, you remind yourself time and time again) is always attentive. 

So, again, how could you not have a crush on Midoriya? 

And, to be fair, he doesn’t do much to quell that crush or fan the growing flames of affection you have for him. When he finds out that you really like that boba place thirty minutes away from the office, he starts bringing you a cup once a week. You try not to overthink the fact that he knows your exact boba order- down to the percentage of sugar you prefer. Or when he finds out you really like that Thai restaurant around the corner and starts bringing you your favorite when he knows you forgot to pack a lunch. 

It’s sweet. Midoriya is sweet, dangerously so. Considering you often only see him drop off food and drinks for you, it makes you wonder if… perhaps, he feels the same way. 

But a small, reasonable voice in your mind reminds you of a very important consideration: Deku was your boss. More than that, he was your boss’ boss. The big boss, if you will. There’s no way he could feel the same way, just from a moral standpoint. And even if you weren’t overthinking anything - a boss dating his employee? The scandals just write themselves. 

It’s another two months before you learn to leave your feelings on the backburner and write it off as nothing more than a puppy dog crush. Lots of people probably have a crush on Midoriya, you think bitterly, it doesn’t make you special and it definitely doesn’t warrant a crush back. 

Besides, you continue to think, Midoriya could have anyone he wanted in the country. In the world. There’s no way he’d settle with a measly secretary. He’s just doing these things because he’s a genuinely nice person - and it’s just convenient for him to make sure you’re eating proper meals and drinking proper (as proper as boba can be you suppose) drinks. 

It is officially four months that you’ve been working for Deku’s agency when you stay late for the first time. You’ve started taking on more responsibilities that take the form of helping organize paperwork and writing up data analytical reports for Deku and his small group of sidekicks. 

On the one hand, more work is great because it means your boss trusts you enough to handle important tasks. But on the other hand, it is stressful. Your perfectionist tendencies are not lost on you as you spend some extra time ensuring that a report is thoroughly. That means that by the time you are done, it is considerably later than your normal departure time. 

Your boss and other colleagues must have left during your autopilot drive to get everything done because the office is mostly empty by the time your brain catches up to the outside world. The exceptions are the janitor taking out the trash and the night shift sidekicks who are either getting ready for a nighttime patrol or are currently sitting at their desks. They say their goodbyes as you pack up to leave for the night, coat on and everything, before you head towards the building entrance. 

Only to find that it is pouring rain outside. 

You stop short, taking in the rain pittering and pattering onto the sidewalk and the roar of rainfall filling your ears. Normally, you don’t mind rain. But the fall is too heavy to walk through unscathed - a fate that looks inevitable for you considering you forgot your umbrella. 

You’re in the middle of wringing your hands together, debating whether or not you should just go for it, before you feel the agency doors open behind you. Then, a familiar voice calling your name. 

It’s Midoriya, looking bewildered at the sight of you. “What are you still doing here?” 

You blink back, equally as surprised. Last you had checked, Midoriya should have been long gone by now. “What are you doing here?” you quip back. 

“Well, I, uh, had to approve some of the reports my sidekicks wrote up before sending them to the police,” he explains, scratching at his hair. “But late nights are normal for me. I’ve never seen you work late before.” 

His inquisitive look leaves you warm with embarrassment. “I-I just wanted to make sure those data analytical reports were perfect before sending them for approval.” 

Midoriya ponders you for a moment, but he ends up smiling. “I appreciate you working so hard. I hope you’re planning to go home. Or at least planning to eat something.” 

You smile back sheepishly. “Guilty. I’m gonna go home- I have groceries that need to be cooked.” 

“Can I walk you to the station?” he offers, flashing his All Might umbrella towards you. 

You laugh. “Cute umbrella. And sure, that would be nice Midoriya.” 

He watches you for a moment. “Do you have an umbrella?”

“Oh!” you laugh again nervously. “No, I forgot mine at home. But it’s okay.”

Midoriya looks momentarily troubled at your predicament, but he smiles easily enough. “It’s okay! Here. We’ll share mine.” He opens up the umbrella and holds it over both of you. 

You still and immediately turn warm at the thought of sharing an umbrella with Midoriya. It seems too intimate of a situation to be in, all things considered. “O-Oh, don’t worry about me.” 

“How could I not?” he retorts, surprising you by wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you close. Though hesitate, your arms encircle his midriff. For the umbrella, you tell yourself, as you gaze up at Midoriya. He’s staring back down at you, gaze unreadable. 

A moment of doubt fills you. Was this too much? Self-conscious, you loosen your grip around him. But Midoriya tightens his hold, making you stop. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice soft. 

You manage to nod your head. Totally okay, more than okay. “Peachy,” you say, allowing him to lead you down the sidewalk towards the station. All the while, you do your best to ignore how romantic the gesture looks to people on the outside. 

You reach the station within a ten minute walk, all while bunched up together like any other normal couple. Midoriya insists on making sure you’re underneath a solid roof before removing the umbrella. Untangling yourself from Midoriya feels like the real world has resettled itself on your shoulders. 

So you take a breath, readjusting your backpack. “Thank you for walking me, boss.” 

He grins sheepishly. “No worries. I just have to make sure my employee gets home safe.” 

He’s trying to play along, but it feels a little like this cold wave of reality has just washed over you. You just try to manage with your best smile. “And some people have the nerve to say you’d be a terrifying boss.” 

Midoriya laughs. “You’re right. They should be saying I’m downright jolly.” 

That makes you laugh. “What are you, Santa Claus??” 

Another short round of laughter, before you pull yourself together enough to stop and look at him. He’s looking back at you, that crinkle of laughter in his eyes - which doesn’t mean anything. It means nothing at all. 

You look away first, fidgeting with the straps of your backpack. “I should go. Thanks again Midoriya.” 

You still don’t look at him as he replies. “You’re welcome,” he says. 

Without another word, you walk away. 

. 

Your ten month anniversary at Deku’s agency is around Christmas time, where the nearby shopping districts get taken over by holiday lights and festive trees of red and green. The weather gets colder, the days get shorter, and the work gets harder. Especially when most of your assignments consist of summarizing the events of the year. There are a lot of days where you are just trying to gather information. 

It’s busy enough that you almost forget about the agency holiday party, scheduled just two days before Christmas. You only remember because your marketing specialist friend (Karly) volunteers you to help with decorations. 

For The Most Wonderful Time of Year, it is rather stressful to make orders for the tree, the wreaths, the lights, and the Santa’s that are scattered throughout the office. 

The day comes fast. Two days before Christmas, Deku’s agency is filled with laughter and chatter. Per the rules of the night, everyone is dawning their ugliest Christmas sweater and are currently partaking in the borderline alarming amount of alcohol that was brought. After all, the white elephant gifts have been exchanged, the toasts have been made - all that’s left to do is drink. 

You’re no exception, as you have now found your way outside onto the balcony with a cocktail in your hand and a warmth in your cheeks. Being outside is nice considering how hot your body feels right now. You close your eyes as a nice breeze brushes against you. 

That is how Midoriya finds you. “There you are!” he exclaims, closing the sliding door behind him as he steps forward to join you. “Been looking for you.” 

You turn around to face him, eyes wide. He was… looking for you? “What for? Did you need something?” 

He stops next to you. “No, no, nothing serious. I just wanted to say you did a good job with the party.” He grins, cheeks also a little rosy from drinking. “Everyone seems to be having a good time!” 

You smile. “I’m glad. I would never have thought planning a party would be so stressful. But a part of me is glad I got to be in charge of it.” You glance at him, feeling unusually bold. It must be the alcohol. “Otherwise I would never get to see the great Deku in his Christmas sweater.” 

True to your words, Midoriya is dawning an All Might Christmas sweater - the brightest shades of blue, yellow, and red that you’ve ever seen. It’s cute. Horrifyingly so. 

Midoriya does a little pose that makes you laugh. “I mean, you could have seen this anytime. You just needed to ask.” 

The remark makes you still because was he implying he wanted to discuss his interests with you? 

The internal struggle leaves you a little winded, unsure how to respond to such a statement. “Is… is that so?” you reply softly. “B-But,” you stammer awkwardly. “I’m sure there are other people you could discuss your All Might collection with?” 

Midoriya hums softly, resuming his position next to you against the balcony. “Like who?” 

You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “I don’t know. Your girlfriend?” 

He laughs gently at that. “Who is this girlfriend you speak of? She doesn’t exist here.” 

Despite his behavior, it is a little surprising hearing that Deku doesn’t have a girlfriend. Especially considering that he looks the way he does and has literally been called Japan’s Sweetheart on numerous occasions. 

You don’t feel too nervous at being called out like this. It definitely has to be because of the alcohol. “W-Well, I just figured. Someone who looks the way you do should have no problem finding someone.” 

“Your confidence in me might be misplaced,” Midoriya returns. He turns to you. “Would you believe me if I told you that I have relationship problems too?”

“You? Having problems with women?” you joke. “Enlighten me then.” 

He takes in a small breath. “Well,” he starts shyly. “Hypothetically, there’s someone that I’m interested in. Someone who I would think is smart, funny… and pretty.” There’s a weight in his words that settles heavily on your heart. “But… the problem, scientifically speaking, is that us being together would be inappropriate. I would never want this person to think I’m taking advantage of my position to manipulate them. And even if we were able to go out, I don’t want this person to be viewed negatively. I don’t want people to think she has been doing well or that she even got a job because of my personal feelings. After all…” he gaze drops to your lips for a moment. Your stomach clenches a little. “This person is a really hard worker. And I would never want to take that away from them.” 

You wet your lips. “That does sound like a predicament, Mr. Deku.” 

He smiles, albeit a little sadly. “I suppose…” he starts. “That if this situation was real, it could definitely be seen like that.” 

You nod. “Right. Hypotheticals.” You take in a breath. “I guess you and I aren’t so different.” 

He glances at you. “Relationship problems?” 

You shrug. “Hypothetically, I could have problems.” 

Midoriya laughs, playing along. “Right. Of course.” 

“Let’s just say,” you start slowly. The alcohol buzz is starting to wear off. But you’re already neck-deep into this interaction and it’s too late to back off. “There’s this guy. He makes me laugh, looks out for me, and has never made me feel insecure. He’s patient, smart, and thoughtful - someone that I really admire, and someone I like a lot. The problem, hypothetically, would be that there’s a gap between us. Not an age gap or anything crazy but more just… the kind of gap where us dating would make him look bad. And he’s a good guy, who doesn’t deserve that kind of speculation.”

You dare to spare a glance at Midoriya for the first time since you started talking. He’s looking at you like it’s his first time seeing you - eyes wide and lips parted. But there’s some uncertainty in his eyes. Like he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions on who you’re talking about. You understand that. After all, his own situation could describe anyone. 

But he turns towards you with eyes open and vulnerable. And you are rooted to your spot, helpless to do nothing but watch him watch you. You watch as he steps closer, feel as he reaches out to grab at the bottom hem of your Christmas sweater and thumbs at the material. As if he is giving you permission to turn away. 

When you don’t, his fingers snake upwards to touch your hips. “It seems,” he breathes out softly. “We’re both a little stupid, aren’t we?” 

You exhale as his hands settle. You feel warm with something decidedly non-alcoholic. “So stupid…” You want to just close your eyes, lose yourself in Midoriya as you’ve wanted to do for the past few months. 

But. 

Your hands find him, your fingers curling around his wrist. It takes a lot of (obvious) effort to pull him away. “Wait,” you whisper. “W-We just talked about how this isn’t right. And I don’t want you getting in trouble for this.”

His eyes search yours, but he squeezes your waist once before relinquishing the grip. “You’re right,” he returns, smiling a little. “There’s a lot of alcohol at this party. Makes me do things I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head. “You don’t need to say sorry. Only if you don’t mean it and you don’t really like me.” 

His eyes have not left your face. “I do mean it. I do like you, a lot. I’m just sorry that it has to be like this. If things were different…” 

“I know,” you whisper. “But I… care about you. And I don’t want people to think you’re the kind of guy who’ll date an employee. Especially since you’re back and trying to establish yourself as a pro-hero here.” 

Midoriya laughs, but it’s not meant to be a humorous noise. He reaches out, thumbing your cheek one last time as if to commit the gesture to memory before he pulls away. “I don’t want us to pretend like this conversation never happened, but I hope that we can still be… friends.” 

Despite the unexpected turn of events (at a Christmas party of all places), you warm slightly at all how well he’s taking it. Not that you expected him to take it badly. And that, above all, he considers you a friend. “Of course,” you reply. “That’s what I want too.” 

The pair of you stare for another long moment before someone is sliding open the glass door of the agency that leads to the balcony. It’s Karly, calling out your name. 

You and Izuku look away, the moment gone. “I’m out here, Karly.” 

Said marketing specialist appears from the shadows, cheeks bright red from rose much like everyone else. But she stops short when she notices the two of you. “Oh! I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” 

“No,” Midoriya cuts in quickly. He’s not looking at either of you. “We’ve finished our discussion.” 

Deciding to leave him alone, you nod towards Karly. “Well, some people are asking about the cake…” 

“Oh!” you exclaim. “That’s right. I know where it is.” You turn towards Deku. “Will you be okay?” 

You mean it in two different ways. Deku looks at you like he knows what you mean. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” 

You make your way back into the party, refusing to think about what happens next. 

.

What happens is a quiet next few months. Midoriya becomes busy with joint patrols, an onslaught of photoshoots, and general paperwork. He still comes by your desk when he happens to be around when you are around, but the interactions are safe and surface level. It is a warped version of what you and Midoriya would call friendly conversations. 

While you miss the deeper conversations, you’re also guilty of not bringing up anything that could bring you back to that night. The fear of uncertainty gnaws at you, afraid of what could happen if you were to cross that threshold with Midoriya. 

Like you, Midoriya is also good at maintaining that friendly facade. He thanks you for your hard work on your one-year anniversary, allowing your boss to take you out for dinner. He signs a company congratulations card when you graduate from university and officially become a working adult.

And you’re thankful that he’s willing to… move on, you suppose? Perhaps avoid is a better word. It’s hard to smile and laugh with Midoriya when you’ve spent the better part of your employment at Deku’s agency wanting more. 

Despite those things, that isn’t the reason why you’re here now. “Here” being the corner coffee shop on a random Saturday, laptop open with a whole listing of hiring hero agencies displayed. Some of the reason is that awkward limbo with Deku, yes, but most of it has to do with the desire for a full-time job. Working part-time at Deku’s agency had been more of a necessity than a want, considering you had to work around a full-time student schedule. 

But with graduation under your belt, full-time has become an option. While the hiring manager at the agency has been open to the conversation of offering you that full-time position, this feels like a rare moment of opportunity to branch out. 

Besides, you think absently, there are a lot of good agencies hiring. 

Quietly, you apply to a few of them, wondering if your experience at Deku’s agency and all the hats you had to wear as a result of working at essentially an agency start-up could impress some of these bigger agencies. 

As it turns out, it does. Because over the next month, you garner the attention of Riot Ground. Again, quietly, you interview a few times before they offer you a position - one that will include working at a cubicle rather than a front desk and definitely involves a higher level of responsibility with a higher pay that you would be dumb to reject. 

Your direct boss is supportive of the decision, understanding that this type of industry exploration is what you want for the next chapter of your career. It’s a chance, she says, you need to take. Additionally, she accepts your two week notice. 

Telling Midoriya had been something you’ve wanted to avoid since Riot Ground offered you the position. In fact, it’s very possible that he already knows what is going on. It’s no secret that the Riot Ground agency and Deku agency are close - the leading heroes have known each other since high school. 

But you decide to just assume that Midoriya doesn’t know what’s going on as you knock on Deku’s office door, taking in a breath when he tells you to come in. He’s finishing up some paperwork as you open the door, definitely looking appalled by your appearance. You hardly ever visit him, especially not since the Christmas party. 

“Hey,” he breathes, closing his laptop. “Is everything okay?” 

You smile a little, trying to stay professional. “Yes! Everything is good. I just thought I should let you know something that’s coming up.” 

He frowns, but nods slowly. “Okay,” he says, a little confused. “What’s up?” 

“Well,” you start. “As you know, since I graduated I’ve been thinking about getting into a full-time position. I don’t know any kind of end goal for myself, but I want the opportunity to grow my experience however. And wherever. So… I just thought that I should let you know that Riot Ground offered me a position. And I accepted. I start in a month, but I already submitted my two weeks.” 

Midoriya is quiet for a moment, processing the ultimate conclusion to your words. Then, he laughs a little. Softly. “Kacchan… I mean, Bakugou told me that they had just hired someone from my agency. When he spoke about the new hire’s interview, I could tell he was impressed and excited to have that kind of person on his team. I just had a feeling that it was you.” He stands up, rounding the desk to lean against the front. “I’m really happy for you.” 

You smile, relieved. Although you should have known to expect nothing less from Deku. “Thank you, Midoriya.” 

But he does smile back, sighing a little. “I will say that I’m going to miss having you around. Getting to talk to you and see you at the end of a hard day always made things easier for me.” 

Your heart picks up a little. You hadn’t expected him to use that kind of line on you. “I-I mean,” you stammer. “It’s not like I’m going off the grid. The agency is just a subway ride away. A-And, I’m still going to be in the industry. So we’ll see each other around at events and such… Besides, we’re friends.” 

Friends. A delicate word to reflect on a delicate subject. And it shows in Midoriya’s eyes, watching you carefully. His eyes look you up and down, before he gives a half-smile. It looks like he has so much to say. But he eventually settles with, “Of course. We are friends.” 

A long pause follows. The pair of you take each other in, until the sound of footsteps pass by Deku’s office and it brings you back to reality. You look away first. “I just… I thought I would let you know. As a courtesy.” 

He nods. “I-I appreciate that. And I really am happy for you. Kacchan and Kirishima are good heroes, and they are good bosses too. I expect great things will happen with you on board.” 

You laugh. “Midoriya, you are speaking way too highly of me. It’s just an entry level position, The amount of influence I’ll have is probably second to none.” 

He shrugs. “So what? I believe in my friends - and I believe in you.” After a moment he clears his throat. “When is your last day?” 

“About a week and a half from now,” you reply. 

He nods slowly. “Got it. Well, thanks for letting me know.” 

You leave work that night a little unsettled, wondering if you’ve made the right decision in telling Midoriya. 

. 

The last week and a half of your employment at Deku’s agency is quiet. Midoriya gets pulled into a job on the other side of the country, meaning he doesn’t get to see you on your last day. You tell yourself that it’s normal that a big boss wouldn’t mind one of his part-time interns leaving and try to make peace with it. 

Midoriya is right about Bakugou and Kirishima. Despite being a little rough around the edges, Bakugou is polite and engaging. Naturally, Kirishima is warm and welcoming. Ground Zero is definitely a bigger agency compared to Deku’s up and coming roots - but the two heroes still take the time to greet you. 

It isn’t long before you’re taking on your own assignments - but your team is nice and supportive and Kirishima even tells you that the recent report you handed in was good. 

Two weeks after you start working at Riot Ground, Bakugou’s Vogue Japan article gets released and you are immediately pulled last minute into the afterparty preparations that Riot Ground is holding to celebrate. You’re more of a background shadow to provide support, but you are still invited to the party. Kirishima says you can think of your attendance as a rite of passage for your employment - one that you intend to take full advantage of. 

The afterparty is hosted at the top floor of this insane skyscraper in the city center - surrounded by lights and music and drinking. You spend most of the early night with coworkers, those in the same department as you as you all talk and laugh and make sure that things are going smoothly. 

This sense of ease is probably how you’re able to notice him before he notices you. 

Your stomach drops when you see Midoriya, someone who you hadn’t seen since that last conversation in his office. He’s at the bar, talking to some girl with a surprising amount of engagement and focus that you stare. 

You cannot help the sickly feeling weighing at the pit of your stomach - because you cannot remember the last time Midoriya talked to you like that. Actually, you can. It was before the Christmas party. Before you engaged in that game of hypotheticals with him. You’ve never regretted the way the exchange went down. But you have regretted the aftermath - the halted conversations, the surface level charades. Midoriya had said he liked you back, sure, but perhaps he only did nice things for you because he wanted something? And surely once he realized he was never going to get anywhere with you - he just gave up, didn’t he? 

That’s stupid, you think to yourself, because Midoriya isn’t like that. He’s sweet and earnest. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to just throw them aside when they are no longer of use. 

But, the other side of you whispers, things haven’t been the same since that night at the Christmas party. Perhaps it’s not out of left field for you to be doubtful. 

Across the way, Midoriya catches your eye and gives you a smile. You wave back half-heartedly. 

He tilts his head, giving you a look you hate that you can read. Is everything okay? 

You just give a shrug, turning back to your coworker before he could respond. 

You assume it’s the end of that conversation with Midoriya. In fact, the next time you (subconsciously) try looking for him, he isn’t at the bar anymore but on the dance floor with Uravity and Shouto. You disappear into an empty hallway that leads to the elevators, sipping the drink (water) you’ve gotten and try to ignore that vague feeling of relief upon realizing that girl was nowhere to be seen. 

You turn back to your water, perhaps waiting for it to drown you or give you answers to questions you are too afraid to ask. 

That is, until a figure slides up next to you. At first, you think it’s some stranger coming up to bother you. But it’s Midoriya. 

“You look lonely,” he comments. Despite the loud music coming from the main room just a few feet down, the hallway is insulated enough where you can hear him properly. 

You glance at him. “What do you mean? I’m peachy-keen.” 

He frowns, the first crack in his wall. “You know, people who say they are peachy-keen are usually the opposite of that. I just can’t help but notice that you’re here by yourself, and you’re drinking water.” 

“I’m on the clock,” you reply. 

Midoriya looks around for a moment, before turning to face you fully. “Is everything okay? Nobody’s bothering you, are they?” 

You look at him this time. “It’s fine, Midoriya.” You jerk your head out towards the main room. “Why don’t you go reunite with your girlfriend or something?” 

Midoriya blinks. “Girlfriend? What are you talking about?” 

Your eyes narrow into a glare. “Don’t try to play dumb with me, Deku. I know that you saw me looking. She’s cute. Thanks for letting me know about that, by the way.” 

“Oh, just like you told me that you were looking for a new job?” Deku bites back. Another crack in his game of pretend. He also seems annoyed you’ve addressed him by his hero name. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s Uraraka’s manager and has been her manager since we graduated high school. We’re friends - just like I thought you and me were friends.” 

You push yourself off the wall at that. “We are friends,” you protest hotly, defensive, not even sure if you believe your own words. “It’s just…” 

“Just what?” Midoriya snaps, that friendly facade gone now. “Just the fact that I thought things would go back to normal after that night, only to get blindsided?” He runs a hand through his curls. “Listen, I was and am really happy for you that you got a great job with Kacchan and Eijiro. I just wish you told me you were planning to leave. That’s what friends do.” 

“Well, why does it matter?” you retort. “A boss shouldn’t care too much if a lowly part-time intern decides to pursue a different agency for a different opportunity - !” 

“But you weren’t just a lowly part-time intern!” he says loudly, then lowers his voice. His admittance echoes in your mind, making you run warm. Midoriya watches you carefully, as if waiting for you to dismiss him. When you don’t, he takes a step closer, rounding on you so that your back is against the hallway wall. “To me, it wasn’t like that. At first, it was. But I grew to really like you as more than just someone I saw at work everyday. I liked you a lot.”

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down, remembering your doubts just a few moments prior. “Why does that matter now anyways? You clearly have more fun with that manager anyways.” 

He groans, stepping closer, hands settling on your waist to push you against the wall. “What is this about? It seems like we’re mad about two separate things.” 

You huff, trying to look away from him. “I’m not mad.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Baby, your glare could cut glass. I can be single-minded sometimes. But I’m not stupid.” 

You hate to admit it. But the pet name softens you up a bit. Enough that you turn your gaze back to Midoriya. “I was just frustrated okay?” you shoot back. “I was under the impression that we would stay friends too. But you were so distant after I told you I was leaving. You didn’t even say goodbye to me on my last day at the agency. I know you were away but… it still hurt me. And then I come to this party and see you for the first time in a month talking to some other girl. Not just talking - talking excitedly and happily. I just couldn’t help but overthink about why you enjoyed your time with her more than time with me.” 

His eyes flicker between your eyes, but he relaxes after a moment. “I always enjoy my time with you,” he explains softly. “But I’m sorry. I should have spoken up when I noticed we were playing this game of just pretending to be alright. I think the thought of confrontation made me more nervous. And I’m sorry for not being there for your last day.” 

You sigh. Perhaps hearing his apology is just what you’ve needed after all this time. “No. I’m sorry. It takes two people to have a conversation, and I was also not reaching out to communicate my frustration. I guess… perhaps, a part of me wanted to know what would happen with us. And if…” you trail off.

Midoriya raises an eyebrow. “If…” he coaxes, leaning in. When you don’t say anything, he smiles. “If I still like you?” 

You pout. “You have no tact, do you know that?” 

“I think the proper phrase is ‘relief knowing I can now openly communicate with the girl I’ve been crazy about for months’.” He pauses. “Unless you’re more of a show don’t tell kind of person?”

He’s teasing you. “I don’t know,” you finally manage, feeling warm all over. “What would showing me look like?” 

At your question, Midoriya smiles again. Less of a teasing smile, more of a soft and understanding curve that makes your heart race. Your anger is completely forgotten as one of his hands gently takes your chin. “Probably something like this…” 

He leans in. You close your eyes, heart thumping out of your chest - because was this really going to happen? Right here? Right now? And to think you were so mad at him just an hour ago… 

A call of your name. “Oi, I know you’re out here - oh. Fuck.” 

Midoriya pulls away, his grip on your chin and your waist gone as if both of you are ripped back to reality. You jolt, eyes flashing open and turning towards the source of the noise. Bakugou stands at the entrance of the hallway, lips parted and eyes wide and looking uncharacteristically startled. 

“Kacchan!” Midoriya exclaims, glancing at you before glancing back at your boss. “We were just… This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing…” 

Bakugou tsks, recovering quickly as he raises a hand up to stop Deku from spiraling into a flurry of conversation and tangents. “I didn’t ask, nerd. I just need my employee’s help with something.” 

You try to recover as well, ignoring your racing heart as you turn towards Bakugou. “O-Of course, what do you need?” 

You step away from Midoriya, but he catches your wrist in his hand before you can go too far. 

“Hey,” he says, stepping up next to you, not speaking until you’re looking at him. “Don’t be a stranger. If I promise to call, promise you’ll pick up.” 

You cannot help but just smile and nod. “Okay,” you return. “I promise.” 

He beams, and releases the hold he has on your wrist. You walk up to Bakugou, allowing him to lead you back into the loud dancefloor. 

“Bakugou!” you call out, feeling the need to fill the silence between the two of you despite the music and laughter around you. “Midoriya is nice! And I really like him!” 

Bakugou grunts, whirling around to face you. “Shut up!” he retorts. “I know. The stupid nerd hasn’t shut the fuck up about you since he found out I hired you. So I don’t think you need to worry. He likes you a lot too.” He pauses. “Now can you please help Eijiro set up the champagne fountain?” 

You grin for more than just the champagne foundation. You shoot your boss a thumbs-up before making your way back into the main party, definitely feeling better than when you first stepped in here. 

. 

True to his promise, Midoriya calls. And to your promise, you answer. It doesn’t take long for the pair of you to resume the same ease of connection that developed when you first met. Partly because you have all this history together, but also because the feelings have been put out there. The calls and texts continue without the worry of crossing past a boss/employee relationship. 

Having Midoriya in your life like this is different. There’s still a bridge to cross with him, but there’s a different openness about this compared to pretending not to be so into him. 

Now he knows how much you like him. And you’re waiting for him to take the next steps. 

But, again, it’s a line neither of you cross for the next few months. Midoriya is busy with work, and so are you. Ground Zero keeps you on your toes with increased responsibilities and solo projects that are stressful yet accomplishing. Yet, every “good job” thrown your way feels like a different badge of honor that heightens your confidence. It feels like some of the things you’ve wanted for your life (a stable career with responsibilities you enjoy doing and coworkers you actually like spending time with) are starting to come together. 

Although yes, you are in a predicament with Deku, you refuse to let that damper your attitude about your overall life trajectory. Things will happen when they are able to happen. 

It’s a thought that comforts you. For the next few months following the Riot Ground party, you maintain a limbo with Midoriya. Until there is a pounding on your door at three in the morning. 

You start awake at the noise echoing through your apartment, heart pounding and eyes suddenly alert. What time is it? The digital BT21 Koya clock on your nightstand reads 3:02 AM. Who is it? No idea. A handful of college students live in this apartment building, so it isn’t unusual to hear knocks at this hour. They’re usually short; this one is not. 

The persistence of it drags you out of bed and towards the door. Is it the smartest way to go about this situation? No. It could be a villain with super hearing, waiting for you to make a noise!! Or perhaps people pretending to be maintenance just so they can break in? 

God, you definitely need to stop scrolling through Tiktok. 

You sigh, tiptoeing to the peephole on your door. You’re expecting drunk college kids, or people you’re supposed to ignore. 

What you see, however, is neither of those things. It’s Deku, slumped against the wall, looking uncharacteristically tired and out-of-breath. Brows furrowing and eyes widening, you open the door with more force than necessary. “Midoriya!” you exclaim, lowering your voice towards the tail-end when you remember that it is three in the morning. “A-Are you okay? What happened?” 

Midoriya looks over at you. His face is bruised slightly and you don’t even want to know what kind of injuries he’s hiding underneath the suit. What happened? When he texted you earlier than evening, he looked and sounded perfectly fine. His eyes rake over you from head to toe, before he sighs. “Oh good. You’re okay.” 

You stare, trying to mentally decipher his words but find that you have no idea what he’s talking about. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” 

He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath before he pushes himself off the doorframe. Quietly, he leans into your space and slowly cups your face with his hands. Midoriya follows the curve of your face carefully, committing each detail to memory.

Clearly approaching the situation normally isn’t getting into his head. He’s too shaken by what he has seen. So you stare up at him, trying to catch his gaze. “Izuku…?” you try. 

That catches his attention. He shifts to look back at you. He sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just…” 

“Do you want to come inside?” you offer gently. 

Midoriya nods, allowing you to pull him inside the apartment. You make it to the living room, where he drops himself unceremoniously onto your couch. Despite his disheveled appearance, he is watching you carefully and looking more alert than before. 

You look back at him, continuing to assess his condition. What happened to him? Did he need to see a doctor? You try to echo one of those thoughts. “Are you okay, Midoriya?” 

He blinks. “I liked it…” he starts. 

You move to sit on the couch. “You liked it?” 

“You called me Izuku,” he clarifies. “I want you to keep calling me that.” 

You sigh, eyes slanting into more of a frown than the wide-eyed concern from before. “Are you drunk?” 

He looks away, rubbing at his face. “No, I’m not.” 

“Well, do I have to drive you to the hospital?” 

“No, I’m fine.” 

“I’d have to disagree. A Midoriya… I mean Izuku,” you correct when Midoriya gives you a look. “An Izuku who is normal wouldn’t come barging in at three in the morning looking like he’s just seen hell.” 

He doesn’t say anything to that, which worries you more. Well, if he doesn’t want to go to the hospital and he’s not drunk, you turn to the next best solution. 

You move to get off of the couch. “Let me get you some water.” 

“Wait.” His hand catches your wrist. He’s not even pulling you that hard, but his touch leaves you rooted to the spot. “J-Just stay here, if that’s okay.” 

You settle back on the couch, trying to catch his eye. Yours widen slightly when you realize that his eyes are glassy. Was Midoriya crying? “Hey, Izuku…” you start, sitting closer to him. “What’s wrong?” 

He looks up for a moment, before looking back over at you. “Can I…” he trails off. “Can I just…” When you don’t flinch away, he takes that as a sign. He wraps his arms around your waist, scooping you up and plopping him on his lap with your knees on either side of him. Straddling him, you let him manhandle you. You let him press you to him, chest to chest, and a hand at the back of your head to press your face into his neck. He noses at your hairline slowly. 

“Izuku,” you whisper, voice muffled into his suit. “Tell me what happened.” 

Midoriya takes in one more deep breath, before he loosens his grip enough for you to pull back and see his face. “I was finishing up my patrol when a group of villains ambushed me. That part was normal, since it’s the middle of the night and maybe they thought they could get away with it? Everything was fine until I saw you. One of the villains used his quirk and made me see something that really shook me up.” 

Considering that he’s here, hugging you like he’s trying to merge with you, you think you have a vague idea of what he could have seen. But you refuse to be self-centered. You gently fiddle with the hair at the back of his neck. “What did you see?” 

He doesn’t look at you as his fingers run over the hem of your sleeping shirt. “You showed up, and they took you away. No matter how far I ran, I couldn’t catch up. I couldn’t save you. Luckily, some of my sidekicks showed up so they didn’t get away. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what they had shown me. I just had to make sure you were okay.” 

You exhale, not realizing you had held your breath during Midoriya’s story. At the very least, this explains his frantic behavior. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m here.” 

He sighs, moving his hands to your waist. “It’s not okay though,” he returns, looking at you. “I think not being able to talk things out with you has freaked me out, thinking that I’ll miss my chance and lose you.” 

“You won’t lose me,” you say quietly. “I really like you.” You relax slightly in his arms. “We don’t have to talk about us right now but I don’t want you to rush into anything with me. I know that you’re here to protect people and you’re trying to establish yourself. I don’t want to get in the way of that. I don’t want you to spread yourself too thin.” You look down, suddenly nervous. “When this becomes something, I’m going to be a little selfish. I don’t want to feel like I’m coming in second place. I want everything that you’ll give me, and I want to feel like you’re always going to choose me. I know that in itself is selfish, but I just want to be upfront with you.”

One of Midoriya’s hands comes up to cup your cheek. He angles himself to meet your gaze. “Don’t ever call yourself selfish like it’s a bad thing. I want you to be selfish because I always want you to myself.” He starts mindlessly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I want to be honest with you too. I can’t promise you that I can respond to texts within the hour. I can’t even promise that I’ll be on time for every date. But I’ll always consider you. And I’ll always choose to come back to you.” 

Overcome with helpless affection for him, you cannot help looking down at his lips. Suddenly, you’re aware of what you’re wearing and what you’re not wearing. Your sleeping attire is just a Riot Ground t-shirt you got from a team-building event during orientation and some loose shorts. Your lack of a bra is the most obvious. 

Judging from Midoriya’s darkened eyes, he knows this.

A pause. Then he brings you down to him, kissing you softly. Time seems to melt away as you shut your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in him. You can feel Midoriya’s grip tighten, pulling you closer as little uncontrollable whimpers fall from your lips.

Without warning, you feel yourself get hoisted up again. One hand around your waist, one hand hooked around a leg as you are maneuvered onto your back. Above you, Midoriya is steady and comforting and warm. He stares down at you like it is his first time seeing you. The sight sends jolts of anticipation through your body. 

On instinct, your arms find the back of his neck as he leans down to peck your lips once, twice, thrice more before starting a trail of butterfly kisses down your neck. He stops at the base, nipping and biting. It tickles, causing little giggles to escape you as you twitch occasionally at the overwhelming sensation. 

Midoriya hums, lifting himself back up. “So sensitive,” he mutters. 

You pout, tighten your grip on the back of his suit. “Is that okay?” 

He smiles, leaning back down to touch your nose with his. “More than okay. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Want to keep going?” 

You cannot help but smile back, heart beating helplessly in your chest. “Yes,” you whisper, nervous but knowing that you trust him more than anything. 

So Midoriya kisses you again, his hands move to your waist to inch your shirt up higher and higher. He kisses down your stomach, fingers gripping the waistband of your shorts. “Is this okay?” he asks softly. 

You nod, realizing after a moment that he cannot see you. “Yes, yes, please Izuku…” 

You stare up at the ceiling as he pulls your bottoms down, exposing you to the air outside. It doesn’t stay unoccupied for long before he’s diving in between your legs, licking and sucking at spots that make you see stars. 

And when he curls up with you later that night under the blankets, refusing to let you go as you giggle and complain about needing the restroom, your heart is high with hope. Hope that perhaps it’s finally time for you and Midoriya. That perhaps, the game is finally over. 

.

The following day, Midoriya shows up to the Riot Ground agency. He had left early that morning, leaving behind a text apologizing and promising to make it up to you later that day. You hadn’t been entirely sure what making it up to you would entail, but you just told him you were looking forward to it. 

It’s a little bit before your lunch break when Bakugou comes stalking towards your cubicle. You’re still on the phone with the guys at HEROES MAGAZINE when he approaches, but he’s surprisingly patient as he waits for the call to end. 

You hang up after a few more minutes of last minute confirmations. “Everything okay?” you ask, redirecting your attention to Bakugou. 

He grunts, crossing his hands over his chest. “You have a visitor. Real insistent about seeing you.” 

You tilt your head. “Who is it?” 

He sighs, unfolding his arms. “Come on.” 

Nervously, you follow Bakugou into his office. Inside, you find Midoriya sitting on the couch. He’s talking to Kirishimia, but all the attention shifts to you as soon as you enter. Midoriya’s face lights up. “Hey!” he greets cheerfully, standing up to approach you. 

You let him, unable to help but smile back as the memories of last night fill you with warmth. The fact that those events were real and tangible still baffles you. “Hi, Izuku…” 

He scratches the back of his neck. “I really am sorry about having to leave after… yeah. After that.” 

You laugh, forgetting that both of you have company. “It’s fine. I know you’re busy. You’re here. That’s what’s important to me.” 

Midoriya smiles, actually looking relieved at your reassurance. “I’m glad…” 

From what sounds like miles away, Bakugou interrupts with a laugh. “Oh my fucking god.” 

You turn to look at him. “Something wrong boss?”

Bakugou is still smirking. He looks between you and Midoriya like he knows something you do not. He, however, makes it clear with his observation. “You guys finally hooked up, didn’t you?”

Immediately, your heart feels like it’s racing on overdrive as your entire body runs hot. “H-How did you… I mean, it’s just… I don’t…” 

Midoriya’s cheeks turn pink. “Kacchan, we’re in a workplace - can’t you keep things professional?” 

“Professional?” Bakugou echoes, smirking. “You have a lot of nerve saying that to me, Deku. Especially when the two of you are all googly-eyed right in front of my salad!!!” 

“Oi, Katsuki,” Kirishima interrupts, getting up from the couch and walking over to slap a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. “I think it’s cute. Go easy on them.” Kirishima shifts his attention to you and Midoriya. “So, what’s this? You guys just hooking up? Or boyfriend and girlfriend? No shame either way!! I think it’s great that we live in a society where every stage and every kind of relationship has an appropriate label.” 

The overall question makes you want the ground to swallow you whole. This is especially the case because you and Midoriya haven’t even discussed what this is yet. What if you answered and it wasn’t the answer Midoriya had in mind. Or would staying silent be the better option? Should you already know what kind of relationship you’re in with Midoriya? You know you talked things out yesterday but was making an assumption going too far?

Your silence makes Kirishima smile. “I mean, there’s also no shame in being undecided. As long as you guys are communicating.” 

Midoriya wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’m actually here to invite you to dinner tonight,” he says, pointedly ignoring his friends and their teasing smiles. 

You smile nervously, unsure whether or not to go along with Midoriya. You decide for it eventually. “Sure. I get off around 5. Can I meet you someplace?”

He shakes his head, looking at you with stars in his eyes. “No, no, I’ll come pick you up.” 

True to his promise, Midoriya is in the lobby of Riot Ground. He gives you that same bright smile, takes your hand. The restaurant he’s selected for the two of you is a few stops away, and he fills any silence with questions about your day and conversations like this is any normal day. Not at all like you’re about to go on (what you would consider to be) a date with Midoriya. 

It’s a sentiment you feel confident enough to echo once the pair of you are seated next to each other in the booth. You notice quickly that he’s taken you to a ramen shop you’ve mentioned enjoying once or twice. The realization draws out a happy, private smile. 

At your observation of this date, he mirrors your grin. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about this. It makes me feel less nervous about telling you that… last night?” He asks like he needs to make sure you know what he’s referring to. Like you need a reminder. But you nod, because Midoriya seems nervous. “That was all real to me. I know dating me would be challenging. But I really like you and I want to be with you. I hope that doesn’t freak you out.” 

Detecting his nerves regarding the subject, you reach out to take his hand. “Izuku, it doesn’t freak me out. I also mean what I said yesterday. I really like you.” You feel yourself go warm with meekness. “Although, I thought it was obvious that I wouldn’t freak out no matter what you said. You did spend the night, amongst other things… I don’t do that with guys I don’t like.” 

Midoriya laughs softly. “I just didn’t want to make any assumptions.” 

You nod. “Well, cease your worries. I am thoroughly into you.” 

Since you’re not rejecting his advances, Midoriya grows bolder. “So… can I do this…?” He laces your fingers together. 

You smile. “Yes,” you whisper, looking over at him. 

He moves closer, still wearing that fond grin. “And when I drop by the agency, can I tell Kacchan that I’m visiting my girlfriend?” 

Your smile morphs into a grin, but there are butterflies in your stomach. “You should probably be a little more professional around your Kacchan.” 

He pouts at that. “What if it’s for something important?” 

You gap slightly, unconsciously inching closer to him. “What could be so important with you and your new girlfriend that you need to visit her workplace?” 

He smiles at the question, eyes flickering down to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you. It’s firm and quick, startling you enough to elicit a squeak from the back of your throat. But he pulls away before you can relish in the gesture. 

When you open your eyes, Midoriya is still looking at you. You can feel the weight of his answer in his stare, making one very firm decision: you were going to suck his dick on the car ride home. 

.

Nearly one year later, the hero rankings are announced on a bright sunny afternoon. 

You are in your now shared apartment when the broadcast starts. When Midoriya is announced as the new number one hero. It’s a big moment within the hero community; not entirely unexpected considering the anticipation of Deku’s return and what he has been able to accomplish since then. It’s a moment that garners big cheers as Midoriya takes the stage alongside the other top ten heroes. 

You watch as each top ten hero makes a speech about their appreciation and their promise to continue protecting the country. As Midoriya makes his own speech, your heart feels light with pride and joy. 

It’s a feeling that continues into the late afternoon, when you’re fitting the bed with newly washed sheets that you hear the front door open and slam shut. “Baby?” It’s Midoriya. “Baby, I’m home!!!” 

You immediately come bounding out of the bedroom, dashing towards the entrance where Midoriya is slipping off his shoes. “Welcome back!! Congratulations on your ranking, Izuku!” 

At once, he sweeps you up into a hug, bringing your feet off the floor and your laughter in his ear. “Thank you,” he whispers earnestly, setting you back on the floor. He kisses your cheeks, spoiling you as if you were the one who has just ranked as the number one hero in the country. “Did you watch the broadcast?” 

“Of course!” you say, giving him a look. “It’s a big deal, Izuku.” 

He pulls back enough to send you one of his soft smiles. “Thank you.” 

You shake your head, cupping his cheeks. “How do you want to celebrate, Mr. Number One?” 

“Well, Uraraka is hosting a party later today to celebrate the new rankings. But…” he trails off, turning meek. He leans forward, nose to nose. “Kind of want to eat you out. Is that okay?” 

Your stomach flutters. His hands move up your shirt, touching at bare skin. “W-We should do something for you.” 

“You letting me eat you out is the something for me,” Midoriya returns, removing his hands to start messing with your shorts. He pulls both shorts and panties down, lowering himself down to let you step out of them. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he traverses down the hall back into your shared bedroom. Gracefully, Midoriya lowers you amongst the pillows. 

One, two, three more kisses along your forehead, cheek and lips, before Midoriya makes his way down your body. Lifting your shirt over your head, planting two kisses on each nipple, down your stomach, immediately wrapping his arms around your legs to keep them apart. A kiss on your clit melts into a lick that makes you choke on a whimper. 

Midoriya has always been good at eating you out. Ever since that first night, he is keen on prodding at the spots that drive you to the edge the quickest, or dragging things out as long as he wants to. It’s that scary observational skills from his line of work getting put to personal use. 

And you’re not complaining. 

In the fifteen minutes he spends in between your legs, you come three times. You’re shaking, gasping, overwhelmed by the time he lifts his head up with his lips shiny with juice. 

You’re still trying to catch your breath as Midoriya undoes his belt, takes out his cock. He runs it over your slit once before pushing in past the ring of muscle. The sensation makes you jolt, crying out as you arch and push at his chest. “Izuku… wait.” Your walls flutter, causing Midoriya to sputter. “I just need to catch my breath.” 

You take a few deep breaths as Midoriya thumbs at your hip in apology. “Sorry baby, I should have asked first.” 

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize.” Midoriya leans down, kissing your ear and down your neck, nipping gently at your collarbone.The gesture, while ticklish, helps relax you enough to reflect on the events of the day. You’re not sure how long it is before you speak again. 

“Hey, so since you’re the number one hero now…” you start once you feel like your head has cleared up enough. “You’re probably going to be a whole lot busier. Lots more people are going to be looking at you and relying on you. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted…” 

Saying the words out loud makes a new kind of reality dawn on you. How would you fit in this equation of Midoriya’s newest accomplishment? 

“Hey.” Midoriya’s voice draws you back. His head lifts from your neck, locking you in an intense stare, hands planted on either side of you. “I don’t know what exactly is going on in that head of yours. Just because I’m the number one hero now doesn’t mean that I still don’t care about you. It doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly going to stop considering you. I’m number one to the country, but you’re number one to me and that’s what is important.” 

You pause, letting his words sink in. You giggle. “Izuku, that was super cheesy.” 

“And what of it?” he purrs, using your giggle as the okay to readjust you. He takes your ankles, repositioning them over his shoulders. He leans in, bringing your legs to your chest, sinking deeper into you. The sensation makes you whine, arching your back and curling your toes. 

“Mmmm,” you whimper, unable to do anything else but lay there and take it. 

“Do you understand now?” he asks, pulling out until the tip and thrusting back in. “Do you understand how much I love you?” 

As if it wasn’t hard enough answering his question, he’s hitting something in you that makes it difficult to think. “Fffuck, Izuku… yes…” 

“Then, you think you can say it back to me, pretty girl?” He straightens up, keeping one of your legs on his shoulder as he increases his pace. His grip on you is strong, while his other hand starts drawing tight circles on your clit. 

You start fluttering around his cock, unable to move away from the simulation. So you try to push at his chest in warning. “Izuku… wait…” 

“I don’t know if I can, baby,” he says, almost disappointedly. “I can’t let my girl walk around not knowing how much I care about her.” 

“I do know…” you whimper, shaking when he finds the right angle to rub your clit. “Aaaaaa… I know how much you love me.” 

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Good girl. Wanna say it back?” 

He releases your other leg so that both fall on either side of his waist. Midoriya looms over you again, never once letting up his pace. “Say…” you manage, tongue feeling like jello. “Say what back?” 

He hums. Still circling your clit, he runs his other hand up over your curves, palming your breast. “Say you love me back.” 

“I love you - !” you squeal as he pinches a nipple. The coil in your stomach snaps, and white hot pleasure runs through your body. You shudder, tightening and fluttering and gasping. You weakly whimper as Midoriya continues to drive into you, your breasts bouncing with the movement. It stops when he gives you one last firm thrust, letting out a groan of his own that is so hot your walls flutter at the noise. 

The high of what you’ve started together starts to die down as the silence is filled with your gasps and his panting. 

Midoriya drops himself next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and nosing your hairline. “Hey,” he whispers. 

“Hmmm?” you hum, content and still trying to catch your breath. 

He doesn’t speak until you look at him. He leans in, touching his nose to yours. “I love you too.” 

You try hard to bite back a grin. “Still want to go to Uraraka’s party?” you ask quietly. 

He groans against your neck. “Not really.” 

You giggle. “You should!” you scold. “It’ll be fun. You’re the number one hero now. Don’t you want to celebrate with your friends?” 

“I’d rather just celebrate with you,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You roll your eyes playfully. “We just did. C’mon!” You push yourself off of bed, whirling around to face him. “I’m gonna pee. We’re going to shower, and then go.” 

Never able to say no to you, Midoriya sits up on the bed and climbs out after you. “Okay, okay, baby. We’ll go.” Without warning, he hooks his arms under your knee and under your back, lifting you up and carrying you to the shower - the sound of your giggles filling the air. 

The party is in full swing by the time you and Midoriya arrive at Uraraka’s house. Midoriya still has that post sex glow in his cheeks. It makes him clingy to you as you enter. The man at your side is immediately greeted by everyone, both friends and fans. It makes it easy for you to peel yourself away from your boyfriend, finding shelter in the living room. 

There, you find Bakugou at the couch, nursing a drink in his hands. 

Finding comfort in the sight of a familiar face, you approach him. “Bakugou! I didn’t think you’d show up.” 

He gives you a sideways glance. “I wasn’t,” he says. “Eijirou said I should, so people can see that I’m supportive of Deku taking over the number one spot. Like I give a shit what people think anyways.” 

You take a seat next to him. “I think you care a little bit. I know how much having that number one spot meant to you. Buuuutt,” you say, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I think it could be seen as good, friendly competition. What do you think? Gonna start working double shifts to get your spot back?” you ask teasingly, grinning playfully at Bakugou. The latter is surprisingly quiet. 

Bakugou gives you a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I knew it was only a matter of time,” he gruffs. “I really do hope as his girlfriend, you’ll never have to see this. But Deku? That nerd is crazy. Back in high school, during the war, he became this self-sacrificing maniac and acted out on his own. It’s a version of him I haven’t seen since then, but it’s a trait that never really went away. Deku lives to give back,” he mutters, so quiet that you wonder if you’re meant to hear him or not. “That’s why people gravitate towards him. It’s hard to compete with someone who would so willingly trade his happiness for others without hesitation.” 

Bakugou’s eyes find something. You turn, following his stare to see Midoriya chatting it up with other pro-heroes. The latter looks bashful, but proud - he blends right into this world you are only just now starting to adjust to. 

I hope you’ll never have to see it.

You watch as Midoriya’s gaze finds yours, waving when he smiles at you, trying not to ponder too deeply into Bakugou’s words.

.

Despite your wishes, you spend some time thinking about Bakugou’s observation. It’s true. Midoriya is a giver. He gives and gives and gives, hardly ever taking anything in return. He rarely asks to take time off, asks you to take care of him, and rarely ever thinks about himself. 

A year after Midoriya becomes the number one hero, you start to see what Bakugou had meant. 

It starts small. So subtle that you don’t even notice it at the time. It happens on a random Thursday night, when Midoriya stops kissing you hello after coming back from the office. It’s something you don’t even notice at the time. You had just continued cooking dinner, oblivious to what that simple missing gesture would spiral into. 

Then, he misses a lunch date. Texts about his whereabouts and any villain appearances on the news are non-existent, until you find out that he just got caught up on paperwork and simply lost track of time. He apologizes later that evening, promising to make it up to you. And he does. He brought flowers home the next day and took you out to dinner. So you forget about the incident, assuming that it was a one-time thing. 

Only, it isn’t just a one-time thing. He misses a few more dates, and doesn’t even tell you he’s coming home late one evening, before you decide it’s time to prod. Gently though, because you aren’t a confrontational person. 

It happens late one night, because Midoriya stops taking days off, when both of you are in bed. Midoriya still wraps one arm around you, using his other hand to scroll through his phone. 

“Izuku, is everything okay?” you ask softly, almost nervous to question it. 

He looks at you, smiling uneasily. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“N-No reason. I was just wondering if you’ve been more busy than before. It’s just that you’ve been coming home later and later. Not to mention that I know that you know there have been a few dates we need to catch up on…” 

Midoriya lowers his phone, pondering your words as he wraps both arms around you. “I know, baby. I’m sorry about that. You know, I didn’t realize just how many cases the police are working on at any given time. Big-case villains, small-case villains, missing people reports… so as the number one hero I’m trying to help out as much as I can.” 

You look over at him. “You’re working with the police to solve all those cases?” you try for a smile and a joke. “No wonder you’ve been so busy.” 

He grins, not noticing the fake smile you’ve plastered on your face. He’s looking at you, but it feels more like he’s looking through you. “People out there need me.” 

You touch his cheek, trying to root him back to you. “Well, I need you too, Izuku.” You try to sound lighthearted, but something heavy plants itself in your heart. 

At that, Midoriya’s eyes really do focus on your face this time. He cups your cheek. “Baby, I’m right here. Always.” 

Are you really? It’s a thought that your mind whispers to you softly, challenging you to say it. But you cannot rise to the task. You don’t say anything that night. You just nod, hugging him and thinking: this is the last time I’ll have to say this. 

Unfortunately, life does not work that way. It finds a way to topple down all around you. Not only does Midoriya remain busy, but you get promoted at Ground Zero’s agency. You move from a cubicle into your own office along with a clusterfuck of new responsibilities. 

The next few months feel like one thing after another. Every attempt both you and Midoriya make falls flat. You plan a birthday party for Midoriya, only to fly out on a impromptu business trip hours before. Midoriya makes reservations for the grand opening of this fancy sushi restaurant, but ultimately stands you up because he fell asleep on the couch. He tries to come home early to surprise you, but you’re out buying groceries for the week. 

Conversation between the two of you becomes as nonexistent as the plans you try to make. What were once joyful exchanges about the past or eventful tales from your jobs become surface level questions about the weather or if either one of you were going to be home for dinner - with the answer typically being no. It feels like another game of pretend with Midoriya - only this time, you’re pretending like this relationship is on the right track. 

Everything comes to a headway on a Tuesday morning. Midoriya is out of bed and out of the apartment. Typical. You didn’t even hear him come in last night (or early this morning). But you notice a text message from Kirishimia at six in the morning. Less typical. Urgent meeting at the heroes commission. Turn on the news when you wake up. 

The headlines jump out onto the screen as soon as you turn on the TV. 

DEVASTATING EARTHQUAKE STRIKES. TOP OVERSEAS PRO HEROES REQUESTED FOR REINFORCEMENTS. 

The footage is horrible. Buildings toppled down, rubble everywhere. People digging through. Children screaming. All the things of nightmares, not unlike the disaster you remember from your childhood - from the Liberation War all those years ago. 

It’s footage that continues to be displayed over social media and over the city as you get ready for work and take the subway to the office. It’s still there when you turn on the TV in your office when you show up to work. 

“It’s horrible,” Roni, your friend from the finance department, mutters, arms crossed over her chest as she joins you to watch. “The hero commission is probably trying to figure out which heroes to send over and which ones need to stay here in Japan.” She turns to you. “Any news from Deku?” 

The mention of his name makes your stomach churn. Truthfully, you haven’t spoken to Izuku, really spoken to him, in weeks. You don’t even remember the last time you existed in the same space together. You clear your throat. You check your phone with a weight in your gut, knowing that there won’t be any messages.You hate that your suspicions are confirmed. “Nothing.” 

He’s probably at the same meeting as Bakugou and Kirishimia, along with all the other top heroes. 

It is a few hours of tense silence in the office. Both for the fate of which heroes will travel abroad and if your bosses will be part of that departure. 

The aforementioned bosses return a few hours later, confirming that they will not be sent away. As part of the top five pro-heroes, they are tasked with staying. “Because some others at the top volunteered to leave. The commission wants to make sure at least some of us are still here holding down the fort,” Kirishima clarifies. 

You wring your hands nervously. “What about Deku?” you ask. 

Bakugou is noticeably quiet, something you pick up on. “You should go home,” he says instead. Then, he trails off into something softer. “That damn nerd doesn’t know when to stop.” 

Your eyes widen, your heart picks up, and you leave. You practically race home to your apartment, to your home. 

Izuku is packing when you arrive. 

You slam the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

For a moment, your Izuku peaks through the cracks. He jolts, looking startled and wide-eyed. But when he realizes that it’s you at the door, that facade disappears. You are facing Pro Hero Deku now, the hero who has just volunteered to fly away from here, away from you. “My flight is leaving soon,” he says, returning to packing. 

“You’re leaving,” you echo. “Just like that?” 

“You saw the news, didn’t you?” he challenges. “Those people need me. I have to help them.” 

“Without asking me?” 

He pauses. “This isn’t something I need a second opinion on.” 

You clench your teeth together, trying to swallow the hurt. You’ve heard the stories from Bakugou about Izuku during the Liberation War - about Izuku barrelling headfirst into tracking down All For One alone, without his classmates or his support system, without regard to himself. His warnings suddenly feel like a lifetime ago. “A second opinion?” you bite. “I’m not a fucking doctor, Izuku, I’m your girlfriend. I thought we were a team. Shouldn’t I have a say in this?” 

He throws his clothes on top of the ones he has already folded in. “What is there to say? How do you expect me to stand aside when I have a way of helping these people? How could you understand, when you don’t have the power I do.” 

Ouch. You never thought he’d pull that card. Just because you don’t have a flashy quirk doesn’t mean that you don’t want to help people, it doesn’t mean that you don’t care. But your anger turns into sharp words that leave your lips without warning. “Fine,” you snap. “Do whatever the fuck you want. You’re really good at that.” 

He glares at you. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Don’t act like you don’t know anything!” you protest loudly. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t been home in weeks, because you haven’t been here. Not really, anyways. Did you know this is our first conversation in days? But not just that. You’ve been standing me up, ignoring me for months. I thought we could eventually talk about this when things at work quieted down. But things have quieted down. All the other heroes, all your friends, are having date nights and friend nights. But you aren’t. You still aren’t here with me. You just stay out there, taking one police case after another.” 

“You knew what you were doing when we started going out,” Izuku snaps back. It’s like you’ve both been holding back on each other, only waiting until now for the dam to break. “I’m the number one hero now. My quirk comes from All Might, and so do his responsibilities. I can’t always be here.” 

It’s all coming out now, you think vaguely to yourself. The anger is overpowering the hurt you should be feeling. “I know that, and I’m not asking you to always be here,” you say sharply. “I’ve always said that I just want you to consider me and care about me. But I can see that something like that is impossible for you to do.” 

Stop, your mind whispers. Anyone with eyes could see that Izuku cares. He cares more than anyone else on the planet. That’s why he’s here. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’re in love with him, and that’s why it hurts so much.

“You’re right,” he finally speaks hollowly. “How can you expect me to neglect my job? Because that job, and the people that need me…” he pauses. “Are more important than what’s here.” 

The next words you were planning to say die down in your throat, as you both are left alone in the silence of what you’ve just said to each other. What is there to say after all that? 

That’s when the hurt settles in, the insecurities threatening to swallow you alive. You know that you’ve also said some terrible things, but the knowledge that Izuku has confirmed your worst fears renders you mute. That you, for all the love in your heart you hold for the man in front of you, will always see you as second place in his life.

“Fine,” you whisper, refusing to see the empty look in Izuku’s eyes. Not like you can see it anyways with the tears fogging up what’s in front of you. “Go do whatever you want. Save the world just like you always have, Deku. But you should know that if you get on that plane, I’m done. If you get on that plane, it’s over between us.” 

You remember to grab your keys off the counter before walking out the door. 

You don’t know how far you walk, or for how long. The nighttime bustle ignores your sulking as you continue down the sidewalk. You pass by night clubs, convenience stores, other apartment buildings - but none of those matter. All you know in your heart is that this might be the end of you and Izuku. And the last thing he would remember you saying is that he doesn’t care. 

You stop in your tracks. How could you say something like that? Izuku is the number one pro hero because he cares, and he has been a consistent source of comfort in your life because he cares. Was it really okay for you to give him such an ultimatum when you never said you could make him choose between work and you? Maybe you can return back, apologize, and try to talk things out. Perhaps he didn’t mean what he said, just as you didn’t mean what you said. 

You run back to the apartment. Had you walked further than you thought? Your lungs burn with air, your legs ache as you run up the stairs, and through the front door. “Izuku?” you call out. “Izuku, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said those things…” 

But the apartment is quiet, empty of Izuku and his immediate belongings. He’s gone. 

How could he just leave? Izuku may be petty, but never aggressive when upset. Especially when something as big as this serves as a roadblock to your relationship. Especially when you don’t know when you’ll see him again. 

On instrict, your hand goes to your back pocket to check your phone but it’s not there. You pat yourself down a few times, but come up to the same conclusion. No phone. Did you have it with you when you left? You swear you left the office with it in your bag. 

Your bag. It was thrown by the door upon first arrival. You tear into it, rummaging through laptop, files, notebook and planners before producing the damn thing. The screen lights up. 

9 missed calls from Izuku <3 

Izuku <3 (6:03pm): the driver is here. I wish we had more time. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry I have to get on this plane. But people need me. I can’t just stand aside. 

Izuku <3 (6:03pm): I hope we can talk soon 

The lump comes back and doesn’t leave. It makes the tears come fast and hard, the gasps leave your throat as you throw your phone somewhere faraway before curling up against the door. Because are you not someone he cares about? Don’t you deserve to have help from him? 

You bring your knees to your chest, feeling the bitter loneliness stronger than you’ve ever felt before. You always knew that Izuku was a hero above and beyond. The pair of you have been dancing around each other for as long as you’ve known him. You really assumed that things would be alright once feelings were sorted out and Izuku showed up that night all those months ago, promising a commitment to you. But you were naive. Feelings were not enough to enact the selflessness needed to love a hero. 

. 

Just before you fall asleep that night, you vaguely remember crawling onto the couch. Your body carries a heavy weight that lots of tears usually bring, along with a sore neck and back. You sit up feeling groggy and tired, immediately searching for your phone. Although the intention is to check the date and time, you still feel disheartened when you notice Izuku has not called or texted since his previous message. 

You do, however, have some texts from Bakugou. 

boss bakugou (9:46pm): Hey, call me when you get this. I should have told you about the nerd, but thought it was better you hear it from him. Hopefully everything has worked out. 

boss bakugou (9:46pm): Or whatever. I don’t give a shit what happens to you two. 

boss bakugou (9:46pm): I’m mostly kidding. 

boss bakugou (11:02pm): Did Deku leave???? 

You blink, reading the messages many times over because your tired mind cannot process it normally. You debate reading the message, or just ignoring it and also skipping work while you’re at it. 

you (6:34am): he left 

Your fingers hover over the keyboard.

you (6:40am): it’s over 

You should know that Bakugou would be awake at this time. 

boss bakugou (6:42am): Still want to come into work?

A part of you doesn’t want to. But a tiny part of you whispers that you should. 

you (6:54am): of course 

Despite your reassurance, there is a numbness that comes with hopping into the shower and washing away the messiness of yesterday. Because no matter how long you stand underneath the water, you cannot wash away the words and feelings. 

Because was this really the end of you and Izuku? He really did leave, finalizing everything with his choice - picking the world over you. Implying that you aren’t as important as his job and the people who need him is a bold claim. It’s not something one can just make up on the spot and not mean. 

Getting dressed is harder than you thought. You have to put some spoons in the refrigerator to help with the puffiness of your eyes. You have to step into your bedroom for the first time since Izuku left to gather some clothes. For some reason, the reality of what exactly you’ve gone through with Izuku doesn’t hit you. It makes you numb, sure, but it feels like these are problems someone else is going through.

Someone who is not you, as you leave your apartment and somehow manage to find your way to the Riot Ground agency. 

Kirishima and Bakugou are in the lobby of the building as you enter. 

You aren’t going to speak first, and the heroes in front of you seem to know that. “The nerd really left?” Bakugou asks. 

You really thought you wouldn’t cry, especially after crying last night and determining that you were fine enough to work. But somehow, external forces bring up the feelings and the lump in your throat returns. You tuck your hair behind your ears, internally cursing as tears start gathering in your eyes. “Well,” you start, unable to help the way your voice catches, the way it breaks. “He made his decision clear last night.” 

“Man, he was just like this when we were kids,” Kirishima grumbles. “Always putting others before himself. I just never thought he’d do that to you.” He looks at you. “I’m really sorry. I hope he didn’t say anything stupid. He was going a little crazy during that meeting.” 

“He…” you gasp a little under the weight of your tears, hoping that neither Kirishima nor Bakugou will comment on it. “He said… our relationship wasn’t important.” You sniff. “I mean… I also said some mean things. But… I really… didn’t think… he’d leave without saying… goodbye.” 

Bakugou wordlessly passes you a tissue while Kirishima guides you down the hall into his office. Neither of them press you for details as you sit in front of Kirishima’s desk, trying to calm down. 

“Deku isn’t thinking about himself right now,” Bakugou says quietly once your gasps have died down and the tears have stopped. “When he sees that people need him, and he knows he can help, he’ll self-sabotage himself. That doesn’t excuse what he said, but he likely isn’t thinking clearly.” 

You nod slowly, not sure if you’re acknowledging Bakugou’s words or just trying to get a handle on the overall situation. “I don’t know what to do,” you whisper. 

Kirishima nods. “It’s a lot to handle. And you don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure what anyone would do after hearing words like that.” 

What would be the next step anyways? A text from Izuku first implies that perhaps moving the conversation along falls onto your shoulders. But what is there to say? Hey Izuku, I know you said this isn’t important to you and you left for another country for an undisclosed amount of time even though I said our relationship was over if you left. Anyways, how’s it going? 

So rather than think about it - you wait, wondering if the right moment will ever come. 

And you wait. 

But you never seem to find the words to say.

.

Midoriya Izuku is away for a year and a half. 

Your phone remains empty of his texts, his calls, or his love for the entire time. But you see him everywhere, especially on the news where the world is praising him for yet another save. Whether it’s digging people out of the rubble, or helping other countries with villain cases, or teaching society how to rebuild their communities after disasters. 

He’s in his element. His tinge of sadness is probably the knowledge that he couldn’t save everyone, you think to yourself. Always watching him on your phone, or on your laptop when a breaking news notification comes up. 

You’re sure he’s happy with his choice. After all, a year and a half with no contact is quite telling about his decision. Yours too, because you never mustered up the courage to ask how he was doing. You never talk to him. 

Yet, you hear about him enough. Not just through the news, but through your boss and colleagues. It’s hard to avoid your pro hero ex-boyfriend when you work in the hero industry and so happen to have two bosses who have known the aforementioned ex-boyfriend since high school. 

For the most part, both Kirishima and Bakugou don’t mention Izuku. They keep their opinions to themselves with everyday that goes by. They didn’t say anything when you started showing up to work without the necklace Izuku had given you, when you removed the matching phone charm, or when the couple's picture you had framed on your desk went into the trash. 

It’s a line, however, that Bakugou crosses when you give him a box of Izuku’s things - the things he didn’t bring abroad with him like his extra sweaters, books, his favorite All Might mug, and that aforementioned necklace. “Listen,” Bakugou had said. “I know things have been hard for you, having to see that nerd’s face everywhere. But I’m sure it’s been rough for him. Why don’t you give him a call?” 

“What is there to say?” you had returned softly. 

Bakugou had rolled his eyes. “How about you start with saying sorry? I’m sure he also feels the same.” 

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Would sorry be enough to make up for what you said? Would sorry be enough to make up for what he said? Would that be enough to repair the underlying issues of your relationship?

It’s a quiet year and a half. You move out of that old apartment, into a newer but smaller one. You work, eat, and sleep. You see friends on the weekends and watch dramas on the weekdays. Eventually, you stop watching the news every night. You stop getting notifications about Pro Hero Deku on your phone, which is why it comes as a big surprise when Kirishima approaches your office on a random Friday morning. He leans against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. 

“He’s coming home.” 

Your stomach drops without meaning to. A name doesn’t need to be uttered for you to know who exactly is coming home. You continue typing out your email, doing well to ignore that feeling inside of you. “Is… is that so?” 

Kirishima nods, eying you worriedly. “The repair efforts are finally done. Deku refused to return until he knew everyone was okay.” 

Of course he would, you observe. “I-I’m glad to hear that,” you muster softly. 

Out of the corner of your eye, Kirishima is still watching you. “Ochako and Iida are hosting a welcome back party for him. I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested…” 

“Probably not,” you say, eyes not leaving your screen. “But thanks for the invite.” 

Kirishima makes a noise. “Hey, I think that Katsuki and I have been as hands-off as possible about you and Izuku - but don’t you think it’s been long enough? Why not just talk about your problems instead of avoiding them?” 

You look at him for the first time since he stopped by your office. “I’m not avoiding anything,” you point out. “Midoriya said what he needed to say. I said what I needed to say. Besides,” you look back at your screen. “It happened. He’s moved on. And so have I.” 

Kirishima walks until he’s standing right next to you. He leans back against your desk. “You’ve moved on, huh? Even more reason to go, right? That’s what a friend would do, isn’t it? Support your other friend who is returning home after a year?” 

“He has plenty of other friends,” you retort. You’re not even sure what you’re typing out anymore, but it’s better than looking at Kirishima. He’s likely disappointed in your decision. “He wouldn’t miss seeing me.” 

Your boss makes a noise of protest, but doesn’t say anything. He ends up leaving for an upcoming meeting, saving you the trouble of his further pestering. Not ever seeing Izuku again, you decide, would be the best option. 

. 

Unfortunately, life doesn’t turn out that way. Because three weeks after Midoriya Izuku’s alleged return, there is a knock on your door. 

And you, expecting a package, opens the door. Your stomach drops. “I-Izu- I… Midoriya!” you choke out, your heart suddenly feels like it is launching itself into the sun. Your stomach doesn’t fare well either. You swear it feels like it’s being wrung dry. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, eyes flying all over him as if trying to make up for the year and half you haven’t seen him in person.  

He’s different. His hair is a little shorter. It still has that curly texture at the top, over his forehead, but is that an undercut in the back? Oh dear. Today he is wearing jeans and a sweater with SWEATSHIRT in typed kanji. Well… some things are still the same. His eyes are still that deep forest green color. Today, they are sad. But they are wide, also looking you up and down like he is seeing you for the first time. 

“Hi,” you exclaim after realizing neither of you have spoken words for a concerning amount of time. You try to ignore how distant, how light your voice sounds. You eventually manage to close your mouth. “Sorry, I…” Your thoughts are scrambling. “I was expecting a package…” 

He seems to have found his voice. “O-oh!” he returns, holding up a box towards you. “That must be this. It was by your door.” 

You try hard not to look at him as you reach over. You cradle the package, glad to have something to distract you as you fiddle with the edges. The first time you’re seeing Midoriya in a year and a half, and you are uselessly mute. You do open your mouth, but only to say something stupid. “Seems like the pro hero stuff didn’t work out, if you’re a delivery boy now.” 

Midoriya blinks, quiet, and you curse yourself. 

You close your eyes for a moment, opening them to look at him. “Sorry, that was stupid to say.” 

He tries to smile. But it’s soft, sad, and doesn’t reach his eyes. You hate that you notice right away. “Not at all. C-Can I come in?” 

You inhale slowly, tucking the package behind your back as you open the door wider for him. “Sure.” You watch carefully as he enters your apartment. He leaves his shoes on, but lingers at the entrance. 

His eyes take in the new apartment. “I like the new place.” 

“Thank you,” you say. You place the package on the small table near the door. “Midoriya… what are you doing here?” 

He whirls around. “I’m actually here on business. Kacchan asked me to pick up some damage report.” 

“Oh!” That was unexpected. It’s hard to tell if it’s unwelcomed or not that Izuku actually has a reason for showing up. It’s also hard to tell if Bakugou was actually too busy to come over himself. But it seems like a waste to ponder on that. “Oh, yes. That. I can grab that for you right now.” 

You walk further into the apartment. Midoriya does take his shoes off this time to follow you. “Sorry for just showing up, by the way. I probably should have called you but…” 

You start digging through your work backpack. “Why are you apologizing?” 

“W-Well,” he stammers. “I know Kacchan sent me here on official business but… I don’t know. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m crossing a boundary or anything. I know Kacchan gave me your address, but still.” 

Perhaps he is overstepping. For a moment, memories of his neglect, of your words, flash through your mind. But where you once felt hurt now feels distant and foreign. “Not at all,” you reassure, producing the file and looking up at him. “I mean, we’ve always… been friends, haven’t we?”

If Midoriya is bothered by your question, he doesn’t show it. He smiles again. Yet, once more, it does not reach his eyes. “Yeah. Of course.” 

The silence feels like something dangerous. Izuku looks deep in thought, and it makes you panic. So you cover the distance and extend the folder towards him. “Here you go.” 

He takes it. “Thanks.” A pause. “So, uh, how have you been?” 

You rub your hands, definitely giving away the nerves. “I’m alright. Still working at Riot Ground, which is nice. I actually have to manage people… which is fun, but also nerve-wracking because there’s a team that relies on me to distribute tasks and be on top of everything.” 

“Well,” Midoriya starts. “You’ve always been really organized, so I’m sure you’re doing great. Kacchan and Eijirou always have nothing but praise for you.” 

You nod in agreement, not really thinking as you open your mouth to continue the conversation. “It’s nice that you kept in touch with them while you were away.” 

You shut your mouth but it is too late. The words have already been spoken, and you regret it at once. Why? You were content playing pretend, just as you assume he had been - but now you’ve gone and opened your big mouth. Even worse, you forgot to run your thoughts through that filter in your brain. 

Well. Not much you can do about this now. You’ve threatened the fragile peace of pretending, and now there is not much you can do independently. You pause in your movements, refusing to look at Midoriya. Instead, you stare at the wall behind him. 

But it seems like you underestimate his kind nature. He doesn’t rise to the bait. From the corner of your eye, you see his nod. “I talked to them occasionally,” he starts softly. He pauses, long enough that you look at him. He’s staring back. “I just wanted to make sure things were alright back home.” 

Your eyes widen, lips part. What exactly does he mean by that?

Your silence reads like an open invitation for Midoriya. He steps forward, opening his mouth - ! 

His phone rings, startling both of you out of whatever trance you were pulled into. You look down, shuffling. Midoriya jerks back, face shuttering before pulling out his phone. “K-Kacchan,” he grumbles. 

Noises on the other end of the line. Bakugou, likely reprimanding him for taking too long. 

After a moment, he jolts. “A-ah, you’re right! Sorry Kacchan. I got the files, I’ll head back over soon. No! No… there was no trouble. Okay.” He hangs up, looking at you. “That was Kacchan. I, uh, I should go.” 

You nod. “Uh, yeah. No problem.” 

He moves to make his leave. You follow behind just to see him out, but he turns around before he can leave. “Hey, so. Since I’m back… don’t be a stranger, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.”

Oh, a tiny voice whispers in your heart, fuck. He’s really continuing this game of pretend. 

Valid. Izuku has never been good at confrontation. Neither have you, so you give your best attempt at a smile. “Thank you… Midoriya.” 

His fingers twitch, but leaves soon after. 

. 

Pretending that you were always just friends with Midoriya is strange, but unsurprisingly normal considering your history with him. Now that he’s back home, his unexpected visit to your apartment seemed to enforce something: he’s willing to fake it as much and for as long as you are.

It starts small - hesitant texts he sends sharing something from patrol that remind him of you. Texts that transition into asking about your day, or inquiring about a show you mention. Naturally, you are hesitant to return the effort. But a small part of you, the small part that is soft on him, is elated that he is back and actually wants to talk to you. 

“Of course the nerd would still want to be friends,” Bakugou scoffs. “You clearly don’t know your own boyfriend that well.” 

“Ex,” you interrupt sharply. “Ex-boyfriend. And sorry I don’t have years of experience handling Midoriya like you do. Usually, when things end badly with an ex, ignoring each other is the bare minimum most people expect.” 

“Well,” he snaps back. “You idiot. Deku isn’t like most people.” He quiets down when he sees the guilt on your face. “What are you going to do now? I heard you were invited to Todoroki’s party.” 

That is true. Shouto himself extended the invitation to you through a text message you were surprised to get. After all, most of your friendships with the Izuku���s old classmates have slowed down a fair amount post breakup. In general, you’ve never been too big on attending gatherings of any kind. But since you and Izuku have reunited (i.e., you guys are just playing house rather than actually talk), it leaves you (once again) in a gray zone. 

You settle with just trying to stay aloof. “I was invited, yeah.” 

Bakugou glares at you. “What? You’re suddenly playing coy? You going or not?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know!!” 

He rolls his eyes. “It’s just a party. It’s not rocket science.” He pauses. “You should go.” 

“What are you, my consciousness now?” you retort hotly.

“Okay, fine,” he spits. “Go. Or don’t go. And deal with a paranoid Deku who is stupid sometimes but not stupid enough to know when you’re avoiding him.” 

You glare at Bakugou for a little longer, really hating how smart he is in spite of his brashness. You’re not really sure you can handle a confrontation with Midoriya right now, and you know that he’ll try to ask questions if you don’t show up. Especially because you know that he knows that Todoroki invited you himself. 

“Fine, fine. I’ll go just for Todoroki,” you say, defeated sigh and all. You pick up your phone to look at the time. It’s 4:30, almost time to leave work for the day. “I’ll go home first to drop my stuff off then head over, I guess.” 

“No,” Bakugou snaps, grabbing your work bag from the corner of your office. “I can see your tricks coming from a mile away. I’m not leaving you on the off-chance you’ll go home and pretend to be sick. We’re leaving now.” 

“No, wait, BAKUGOU!” you exclaim, frantically trying to shut off your electronic belongings and gather the items on your desk that need to go into that work bag. “This doesn’t even involve you, why do you care so much?” 

Bakugou whirls around in the doorframe of your office. “Because if that nerd tries to talk to me about you one more time I will blow his face off. We’re going.” 

You try to act as if Bakugou’s words have lit a fire of meekness inside of you as you follow him out of the office. “A-Are you sure we need to leave now?” you fight weakly. “K-Kirishima isn’t even back yet!” 

“Shitty Hair is patrolling until later today. He’ll be late,” Bakugou explains, practically shoving you into his car. “Besides, the sooner I get there, the sooner I can leave.” 

You huff. “Your intentions are definitely in the right place there, Bakugou.” 

He sneers at you, before turning up the radio and leaving the two of you in silence. It’s a bit of a drive to Todoroki’s house. But in Bakugou’s presence, you’ve never felt the need to speak words to fill the space. He’s enjoyed the quiet as much as you. However, today the quiet fills your mind with questions. Was it really okay for you to be at this party? Would your presence make things awkward? Was Midoriya going to be there?

Bakugou pulls up to Todoroki’s house soon, located in a quiet wealthy neighborhood away from the city. Despite the wealth that you feel in the air, Todoroki’s house is rather discreet and combines modern architecture with a traditional style. It’s beautiful - you’re simultaneously flabbergasted and impressed by how rich Shouto Todoroki is. With the high bamboo and trees, you almost don’t notice a gate on the property, unlocked by a code that Bakugou knows by heart. There’s a sizable driveway, filled with a few cars and a familiar figure that makes your heart both sing and drop. 

Midoriya is in what you assume to be his car, scrolling through his phone. His gaze lifts when he sees you and Bakugou pulling up. For a brief second, his eyes widen when looking at you. But by the time Bakugou parks and you’re hauling yourself out of the car, that glint in his eyes is gone. He’s also out of his car as well, walking over to meet you halfway.

You immediately write that previous look off as nothing. Instead, you smile and wave as you approach Midoriya. “Hi Midoriya, did you just arrive?” 

He smiles over at you. “Yeah. I was just answering a couple emails before you guys arrived.” He glances over at Bakugou with a look that is surprisingly… pensive? “Hi Kacchan.” 

Bakugou grunts in greeting as he immediately starts making his way to Todoroki’s house. 

You cast one last look at Midoriya, who is already looking at you. Feeling the awkwardness start settling in, you turn and follow after Bakugou. 

There are more people at the party than you originally thought as Todoroki opens the door to greet you. You weren’t sure what to assume, only knowing that Shouto Todoroki is a relatively private person - but there is his entire class from the UA hero course and people you can only assume to be his family. Additionally, there are people you recognize from his agency - sidekicks and his manager, who (thankfully) you know. 

Besides that, you are completely on the outside. 

Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. 

Still, Bakugou’s warning about Deku is too prevalent to back away from. Besides, you think bitterly, you yourself had said it best to Midoriya. You’re friends. 

You see Midoriya entering the house right behind you, and immediately make a beeline down the hallway. In your mind, the excuse is that you need to use the restroom. But asking Todoroki himself would subtract the ten minutes you’re banking on to find it. You’re not sure how long you’re going to be at this party. But every minute away from an unfamiliar crowd would be best. 

You do manage to find a bathroom at the end of the hallway, telling yourself that no one is out there wondering where you are as you fix up your appearance in the mirror. 

When you open the door, Mina is on the other side. She appears to be looking for something, until she sees you and you realize she’s looking for someone. For you. 

She exclaims your name, bounding towards you. “I thought I saw you!!” 

You shouldn’t be surprised that Mina is here, but your heart feels a little lighter knowing that you know another person. While dating Midoriya, you’ve had a few lunches or general hangouts with his old classmates. Everyone was always very friendly in that ‘this is my friend’s girlfriend’ type of way. From your memory, Mina was the someone who treated you more like a friend rather than Midoriya’s girlfriend. 

“H-Hi Mina,” you manage, trying for a small smile. “How are you?” 

“I’m good,” she says, mirroring your smile. “How about you? I… heard what happened.” 

“O-Oh really,” you reply, going stiff. 

“Yeah, from Izuku. I didn’t know right away that you guys had… broken up,” Mina explains. “I was also sent overseas after that big earthquake. But I’m sure it must have been challenging. Frankly, Izuku is an idiot for what he did!” 

You soften slightly. “Well… I wouldn’t say he’s an idiot. I think he just had to do what he thought was best.”

Mina smiles. “You’ve always been so nice and understanding. I’m glad to see that you’re doing well though! We should celebrate that.” 

You blink. “What do you mean?” 

“By letting me get you a drink, of course,” she exclaims, taking your wrist and dragging you back down the hallway. You catch Midoriya’s wandering gaze, but ignore him in favor of Mina taking you to the kitchen. She boasts about the soju and sake that Todoroki let her bring before the pair of you take a couple shots together. It leaves you warm, fuzzy, giggly, and prone to wandering around. 

Eventually, as Mina gets caught up in her own group of friends, you find yourself in the backyard of Todoroki’s house - the shishi-odoshi hitting the rock and bamboo echoing in the quiet night, the sound of your shoes crunching against the sand underneath your shoes. Todoroki has a little bamboo garden in the corner, fixed with a bench and other flowers whose color reflects off light from the house. 

Still cradling the mix Mina had poured for you, you take a seat on the bench. 

It feels like you’re sitting there for hours before you hear shoes crunching against the sand. You jolt, whirling in your seat and heart dropping when you see that it’s Midoriya himself making his way towards you. 

“M-Midoriya,” you stammer, tearing your gaze away first and staring down at your drink. “Did the party get overwhelming for you too?” 

He’s quiet as he takes a seat next to you. “Sort of,” he answers vaguely. “I also noticed that you weren’t with Mina anymore. I guess, I just wanted to see where you were.” 

You look at him. “You… knew I was hanging out with Mina?” 

He looks back at you. “Of course. I remember that you guys would talk whenever you hung out with my friends. Did you have a good time with her?” 

“Y-Yeah, we were just catching up,” you return, laughing softly. “I know it may look like it, but I wasn’t avoiding you or anything.” 

“You sure?” Midoriya asks. “Because it felt like every time I tried to look at you, maybe get a hello in or something, you would look away or run away.” 

Your hands suddenly feel wet and nervous. “M-Midoriya…” 

He sighs. “And that’s another thing. You don’t call me Izuku anymore.” He looks sad again. “I thought we were friends. But you call me by my last name and you avoid me and you…” he trails off, seeming to try and hype himself up for something. “Are you with Kacchan?” 

You blink, taken aback. “Am I what?” 

He gets nervous again. “Are you… dating Kacchan?” 

“No,” you reply dryly. “I’m not with Bakugou. He just drove us straight from the office. You of all people should know that I wouldn’t date my boss…” you cut yourself off, looking back down and frantically trying to figure out a way to end this conversation. “You know,” you say, just speaking words at this point. “You don’t need to be out here keeping me company. I’m sure your hero friends are more important than this,” you try to joke, but it comes out more serious than you were hoping. Your drunken words seem to unveil something unconscious inside of you that you thought you’d move on from. Goddamnit. 

Midoriya doesn’t say anything, as the reality of what you’ve said sinks in. You really hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. But here you are: drunk, cold, hurt, and feeling stupid. 

So you laugh, a hollow sound. “Wow, how much alcohol did Mina put into this? I better go find her and ask because this shouldn’t be allowed…” You’re standing up from the bench, leaving your drink behind, those internal red lights telling you to run despite your outward attempts to look composed. 

In fact, you are about to run because it’s just too awkward. But Midoriya calls your name, softly. And you, always drawn to him, just have to look back. 

He stands, slowly walking towards you. “I don’t know why I said those things. But I’ve always felt awful. I just never had the guts to apologize earlier.” 

You wring your hands. Was he really taking the bait now? He must have been drinking too. But his gaze is clear enough to tell you he’s taking this seriously, and you’re too scared to run away. So you speak quietly. “I know why you said that. And you do too. It’s because you love your job. You can say that you’re sorry but I’ve always felt like you put everyone else’s needs before mine or yours. So… don’t say you’re sorry. Not if you don’t mean it.” 

He’s quiet long enough that you turn around, about to return inside before Midoriya speaks again. “I was being selfish,” he announces, reflective enough to stop you. You turn around. He walks right up to you. “I thought about you everyday while I was gone. Hero work has always been important to me, yes, but you are my dream. You’re who I want to be with, who I want to love. I was stupid to take advantage of that.” 

Your lips part, a sensation filling your body. Is it relief? Perhaps, anxiety? 

You don’t pull away when his hand reaches out, waiting a moment as if expecting you to pull away. When you do not, he gently cups both your cheek, a movement so soft and warm that your heart melts a little. 

But… it doesn’t feel like enough. His touch alone cannot heal the wound you’ve unknowingly covered for a year and a half. Without meaning to, your eyes water. “What… What do you want, Midoriya?” 

He exhales softly, brushing a thumb along your cheek. “I just want to be with you.” 

That makes the breath catch in your throat, making you realize you are actually torn between that relief and anxiety. Relief that he feels the same. But anxiety because you don’t know if that is enough. “I feel like I’ve waited for you my whole life. But I don’t know if I can believe you.” 

His face falls as his eyebrows furrow and he closes his eyes. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes you in, breathes out. “I know,” he whispers. “After all that, I don’t know if I’d believe me either.” 

His eyes look disheartened and full of guilt. So much so that you cannot help but gently touch his nose with your own. “I’m not entirely innocent either. I said some mean things to you that night too, and I’m sorry. I should never have said you don’t care - that was wrong of me.”

He pulls away a little, but his hands are still on your cheek. Still sad but a little bit of hope glimmers. “No, you weren’t wrong for saying that. Once things calmed down overseas, Kacchan called me and gave me a lot of shit for what I said to you. I should have stayed, or talked things over with you. I’m sorry.” 

You inhale soft, feeling a weight lift off your chest and no longer feeling like you have to make a run for it. “It’s okay.” You smile a little. “I know I just said I’d have trouble believing you. But… I do believe that.” 

He laughs a little, more like a tiny exhale. His eyes are carefully watching your face now. “I’m glad.” 

Well, you think to yourself, now that everything's out in the open, it’s probably time to ask the important question. “What does this mean for us?” 

He hums softly, hands leaving your cheeks. But he does not pull away, likely trying to enjoy this moment as you are. His hands travel down to your waist, keeping you close. “I didn’t say all those things hoping we could try being together again. But I do want to say that…” he thumbs at the skin of your hip, always needing to be touching you. “I’m here. Really. I want to be here for you and for however long it takes you to believe me again.”

Your gaze flickers between his eyes, feeling the sincerity of his confession. “Thank you,” you reply softly. “I want to believe you again, and I want us to work together on that. I just think we need more time.” 

It’s neither a full rejection nor a full commitment - but enough where Midoriya grins brightly. “I’ll give you all the time in the world.” 

. 

Honestly? At first, you think Midoriya is full of shit. Not in a bad way. Just in a tentative ‘is he really going to follow through’ perspective. You’ve always believed in Midoriya as a person. But considering the history, the daily ins and outs have required a little more work. 

Midoriya had been away for a year and a half. You may not know his favorite food anymore or his favorite movie or his favorite song to fall asleep to. But something you haven’t forgotten about him is that Midoriya always tries. 

Texts become more frequent, as Midoriya grows more eager to repair that bridge between the two of you. Surface level questions about your day turn back into similar text conversations of how things were when you were dating. He still enjoys checking up on you, asking about your day, and recalling memories that actually make you smile whilst reading them. Despite his behavior, he never actually pushes questions about your relationship. 

He trusts you to communicate, just as you start to trust him once more with your thoughts, feelings, and insecurities. You go from pretending to be alright with Midoriya to actually being alright with Midoriya. And it doesn’t fill you with doubt. It leaves you content, happy to be where you are with him. 

It comes to a headway about six months after Midoriya returns home - and you get injured at work. 

It’s nothing serious. You sprain your ankle after missing a step going down the stairs at the office. Most of the heroes you could have called were out fighting some big villain on the other side of town, so the agency itself was empty of any heroes or sidekicks. Hence, your friend from finance drives you to the hospital. A couple hours of waiting, and you are admitted and immediately given ice packs, a pillow for leg elevation, and a recommendation from the doctor to get an x-ray scan to ensure no broken bones.

You decide to give Kirishimia a call after your x-ray, reassured by the doctor that the turnaround time for the results would take a little over an hour. 

You almost regret trying to give him a call, considering what he was doing at the moment, but are surprised to hear him pick up the phone on the last ring. He calls your name, confused. “What’s going on? Is everything okay? I’m still caught up in the fight. More support has arrived so I think it’s wrapping up soon. Luckily we’ve been able to contain the damage but the first aid station is packed right now.” 

“Eijiro, I just wanted to let you know that I’m at the hospital. But I’m okay.” 

“What? The hospital? What happened? Is everything okay?” Kirishimia calls. “Do you need me to head over there?” A pause. “The police just arrived so I really do thing the fight will be over soon. Not every hero has to be present for the paperwork. I can come over right away.” 

“No, don’t,” you say. “I’m fine, it’s just a sprain. I already did the x-ray scan and am waiting to make sure nothing is broken.” You smile. “It’s alright, Eijiro. Focus on what’s more important - protecting the people.” 

Kirishima makes a tiny noise of protest, but seems to find some validity to your point. He is needed much more where he is. “Okay, fine. But call me when you hear the results.” 

You nod. “I will, thank you.” 

He hangs up, leaving you in the silence of the emergency room ward in a bed surrounded by a curtain. The waiting is long, leaving you with only your phone to occupy you. You watch some of the tailend of the big villain fight. Luckily, the damage was limited to just one of the skyscrapers due to all the heroes that rushed onto the scene. You catch sight of some familiar faces, of this echo of green lightning and immediately jump to thoughts about Midoriya. How was he doing? You hope he’s doing alright. He’s supposed to come over tonight, so perhaps you can ask him how he’s doing then. That is, if you’re able to be released from the hospital in time. 

You’re about to take a quick nap before you hear the doors to the emergency room fly open. At first, you assume it’s a patient since you are, after all, in the emergency wing. But then someone is exclaiming, “Mr. Deku, please calm down! If you just tell me who you’re looking for, I can tell you where they are. Please don’t disturb the other patients!” 

Deku’s name feels like a bolt of electricity running through you as you push yourself up to your forearms, trying hard not to apply pressure to your ankle as your eyes train themselves on the edge of the drawn privacy curtain. 

Suddenly, Midoriya appears, wide and imploring eyes that immediately zero in on you with laser sharp focus. 

“Midoriya!” you exclaim. “What-?” 

“Are you okay?” he asks, quickly walking over to stand next to you. Without warning, he takes your face in his hands. Eyes search your face, likely searching for any signs of anything physically or emotionally out of the ordinary. “What happened? Where did this happen? Who took you here? Did you drive here yourself?” 

“Midoriya,” you say carefully, firmly, watching the way he closes his mouth to let him speak. “I’m okay. I just hurt my ankle at the agency. H-How did you know I was here?” 

He sighs, releasing his hold on your face. But he moves down to your hand. “Kirishima told me. And… it’s like with anything I do. My body moved on its own and suddenly I was running here.” 

You frown up at him. “But weren’t you in the middle of a villain fight? You just left?” 

His thumb is rubbing your hand. He shrugs. “We had a lot of help. The damage was at a minimum and things were wrapping up anyways.” 

You look down, still lost. “But you love finishing up cases. You love reassuring people and always needing to make sure that other people are okay.”

His movement ceases, a time of silence he takes to kneel next to your bed. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. You, helpless, look at him. “I know I was really bad at expressing this back when we were together. But I need you to know that you’re part of those people too. Not just that, but you’re the person I want to reassure the most and the person I need to make sure is the most okay. I’m sorry if you were thrown off by my arrival.” 

“No, not at all,” you reassure quickly, tightening your hold on his hand. “I was surprised, but in a good way.” 

He brightens at that, straightening up and kissing your forehead. “Okay. And I’m glad to see that you’re okay. Are they going to release you soon?” 

You nod. “I think so. I got an x-ray, so a doctor will be giving me the report soon. They just want to make sure that nothing is broken.” 

Midoriya brings your hand to his chest. “Can I wait here with you?” 

You give him a private smile. “I’d like that.” 

So Midoriya sits on the bed with you. Neither of you talk about his confession or what it means for the both of you. You just sit and joke around like no time has passed. He’ll occasionally fuss over your ankle, but it doesn’t last long. The doctor comes around and confirms no broken bones. He follows it up with strict orders to rest for the next four to six weeks before allowing you to leave. 

The doctor comments about how nice it is for your boyfriend to take time off from heroing to see you off. You smile, hold Midoriya’s hand, and try to sort through the butterflies in your stomach. 

.

Four to six weeks later, you take the subway to Midoriya’s neighborhood. His house is a place you’ve been to once, solely for work purposes so you still have the address on your phone. To be honest, you’re not even sure if Midoriya is home in the middle of the day. It’s Sunday, his new day off (or so he’s told you), so you imagine that he’s likely home resting. You hope so anyways. 

Well, only one way to find out. You knock on the door with one hand, using the other to balance the tray of breads and desserts you’ve just picked up from that expensive bakery in the city. If he isn’t home, you might just have to leave it on the front steps… 

The door swings open, revealing Midoriya in his casual attire of jeans and a shirt that says SUNDAY on the front.

You make it a point not to stare at the shirt in favor of looking at Midoriya’s frantic look. “Hi,” you greet cheerfully, holding up the box of pastries. “I wanted to bring you something.” 

“Baby, what are you doing?” he asks, dragging you in by the waist. “You just got out of the hospital, you shouldn’t be walking right now!” He’s pouting cutely. He’s been more generous with his touches and nicknames since your return to the hospital, and it’s put you on a hopeful high where maybe… perhaps… he’s down to go out and give this another shot. 

“I’m fine, Izuku,” you say mindlessly, not trying to fight your way out of his hold. You just hold up that box of pastries. “I was on strict house arrest orders from my boss and got daily visits from a certain someone so not only am I very well-rested, I am antsy. I’m not allowed back at work so it’s only right that I get a little bit of exercise. And I know how much you love this bakery and… are you okay?” 

You stop because Midoriya is looking at you with that soft smile on his face - the same kind of smile he’d wear before telling you something important. 

“No, it’s nothing,” Midoriya brushes off. He just takes the box from you and rests it on the table near his door. “You just called me Izuku.” 

A little bit of your cheerful disposition from before vaporizes. “Oh. Um, yes… I did.” You gaze up at him. You were speaking a little too freely. Even though you and Midoriya are in a really good spot, there are still some things that haven’t been firmly established yet. Like, for example, what the specific label of your relationship was. “Is that too much? It sort of just slipped out, I’m sorry…” 

“No, don’t apologize,” he says hastily, wrapping his arms back around you. “I guess with what happened between us and your trip to the hospital… things have just been feeling different.” 

“They have!” you say, a little relieved. So his question wasn’t for disappointment, it was just curiosity. Again, you’ve underestimated his kindness and his love for you. But you refuse to back down again. “I… actually came here for another reason.” 

His gaze is still trained on you. 

You keep your head up. “I’m here to ask you out.” 

Midoriya tilts his head, not fully understanding. “You wanna get lunch?”

“No, no, I meant… like, I want to go out with you. Date you. Try being your girlfriend again.” 

His eyes widen, bringing you closer to him. “Are you serious? You… you want to try dating? You… believe in me now?” 

His words from Todoroki’s party flash in your mind: I just want to be with you.

You nod. “I really believe in the things you’ve been doing to balance your life out more. I know you’re doing those things for yourself, and seeing you make the choice to take a day off or seeing me at the hospital made me happy. It makes me want to try being with you again, knowing that we’ve grown enough to put in our best effort.” 

Midoriya smiles at that, big and bright as he cups your cheeks. “I promise you that I’ll never make you regret this.” And you, filled with so much love and hope for this, kiss him. He kisses you back, firm, simultaneously scooping you up in his arms. 

You gasp out against his mouth, that shock turning into a fit of giggle. “Izuku, what are you doing?” 

“I’m protecting your ankle!” he points out playfully. “Want to come down?” 

You pretend to contemplate. He’s lifting you up so easily. “Hmm, actually no. Maybe I’ll just stay here and let you lead the way.” 

He leans up towards you, signaling what he wants next. You indulge him easily, leaning down halfway to press your forehead against his. He closes his eyes, breathes you in. “I definitely intend to,” he says.

[yepjugotdatright]

Chapter 5

“How could you do this to me?” Jisuk nearly yelled into her phone as she left the building on the university campus and walked to her motorbike. “What do you mean?” Jinah’s voice was a little tired. “You sent me to the fucking exam for the scholarship-program. You enrolled me into a university without telling me”. “Why are you complaining? This way you will have to pay like half of the surgery expenses…”. “Yeah, and can only earn half of the money I’ve earned before” Jisuk shot back and leaned against her bike. “There are some student associate jobs that pay you a lot more – stop worrying about money already. I mean, hello? Seoyun-stockholder speaking?” “Very funny – but I don’t want to use your money”. “Then go and sell your damn kidney!” Jinah said annoyed, “You go to Yonsei – Period!” “Then you go and find me one of these well-paid associates job!” Jisuk was about to hang up but moved the phone up to her mouth again just to bicker back: “Period!” She hit the red phone-button and put her mobile phone into her bag before mounting her bike to head home. It wasn’t even twenty minutes and Jisuk had her bike parked in the garage and walked inside the house. The shoes next to the door revealed everyone to be home and as she came into the living room she saw everyone sitting on the couch staring at a canvas put in front of the TV. Hyunshik stood next to it, proudly laying his hand on the top of the wooden frame as if he took a photo with his graduating son. “So, what do you think?” he asked the others who were still looking on trying to figure out what the painting portrayed. Jisuk walked through the living room and halted as she saw the artwork being left speechless. Kimiko was the first to speak: “I think it is very lovely”. “Lovely?” Hyunwoo snorted and raised his eyebrow, “I don’t think that’s the best word to describe this…” he tilted his head a little, “…this strong message!” “I don’t know what’s your problem – it is clear what the artist meant to portray” Kimiko shot back having everyone turn their back towards her. She coughed and continued: “The choice of color – the strong brush strokes between all the soft ones; it’s clearly about a young and passionate love”. “Woah~” they murmured admiringly. “I didn’t know you have an interest in art”, Hyunshik said feeling more than excited to finally have someone civlized in the house. Kimiko smiled shyly, “My mother is an art dealer… so she made sure I had some knowledge on how to appreciate paintings the right way”. Hyunshik nodded with a small melancholy look on his eyes and sighed, “Yeah, it seems that all art dealers are like that”. “That’s amazing! Why don’t you introduce your paintings to Kimiko’s mother? You might be able to set foot on the Japanese market” Aejin jumped up excitedly and laid her hands on Hyunshik’s shoulder while smiling widely at Kimiko. Kimiko was about o answer, however Hyunshik shook his head. “It’s okay the way it is” he gave his wife a genuinely happy smile and moved his arm around her waist. “Oho” Aejin chuckled, kissed him on the cheek and walked past Jisuk to the kitchen. Kimiko tried to smile; however, she looked awkward and stared at the painting. She knew the painting style – it was the same as the abstract hanging over the chimney in her living room in Japan. But there was no way she would tell Hyunshik that a painting of his was one of the most treasured belongings of her mother.

Jisuk walked up to her room and lay down on her bed. It was not long until her night shift delivering chicken would start, so she should get some rest. Actually it wouldn’t be that bad to start going to college. She would learn more about computer and stuff – which was more in her interest than working in the convenience store. But that would also mean cutting back a lot in her income. With three part time jobs she had a monthly allowance she could live with – after taking out the money for the rent, her aunt’s expenses and the columbarium fee for her uncle. Going to college she would have to at least resign from the convenience store – the one job with the most income. However, when the surgery on her aunt would be successful she wouldn’t have to pay for the Hyungwong Residence anymore – and she could have a proper job after graduating. But before that were at least three years she had to survive… without enough money and time. Her phone alarm went off two hours later and pulled Jisuk out of her dozing state. She washed up quickly, changed into the red polo-shirt with the logo of a chicken with burning eyes printed on her chest. Next was the incredibly ugly jacket – a loud red with the black lining showing at the collar and at the end of the sleeves. She looked at herself in the mirror. She wouldn’t mind giving up this uniform – red absolutely wasn’t her color. After tying her hair into somewhat a ponytail she walked down the stairs, slipped into her shoes and yelled her goodbyes before leaving through the front door.

  Almost a week had passed and Jisuk had continued her part-timing as usual – even almost forgetting that the whole college-business was even a topic. At some points she had even forgotten that the college was mainly the idea to finance her aunt’s surgery. But then she would see the pamphlet from Hyungwong and have a guilty conscience again. It was an up and down. So she returned from her café-waitressing on that Sunday late afternoon and lazily exchanged her fake Converses with a pair of slippers. The house was loud as always. She could hear Hyunwoo in the living room playing some game again and Aejin was busy in the kitchen preparing dinner for seven people. Jisuk walked to the kitchen and peeked inside. “I’m home!” she announced and Aejin turned her attention away from stirring the pot. “Oh, Jisuk! Your friend called – she’ll come over this evening after dinner”. Her voice didn’t sound that excited as she would normally do when guests came over. But that might be due to her disliking towards Jinah. Jinah was way too wild for Aejin’s taste and even though she did something worthwhile with her job Aejin couldn’t get around the impression she got from her in Daegu. “Alright – why didn’t she call me first?” Jisuk asked curious. “How would I know” she tried to sound indifferent and proceeded cooking the stew. Jisuk would have loved to hear the conversation between Jinah and Aejin; both very stubborn personalities and not afraid to utter their disliking for the other. “What are you making for dinner today?” Jisuk changed the topic and peeked over her shoulder. “Sundubu Jigae”, she said and offered Jisuk to taste it. Jisuk took the spoon and fished out a piece of tofu together with pork belly and little bit of the broth and ate it; “Mmh, delicious!”   “Don’t tell Hyunwoo though, he loves soft tofu stew…”. “Why? Is he going somewhere?” “He is going to his friend’s place today – probably watching today’s football game” Aejin offered Jisuk a tired smile. “First Hyunshik and Yunhee are going crazy because of the baseball game beginning in…” she looked at her watch “… about one hour. And then comes the youngest and whines why we don’t have Pay TV so he could watch this American Channel. Be glad you weren’t home today”. Jisuk nodded understanding, “Who’s playing today?” “I am not sure – I think the Baltimore Orioles against Arizona Diamond-something…” “The Diamondbacks?” It was more a rhetorical question. It would explain Yunhee and Hyunshik going crazy over the day. While Hyunshik was a huge advocate of the Arizona baseball team; Yunhee was a huge fan of the Orioles. “But how come an American Baseball game is broadcasted in normal TV?” Jisuk filched another spoon with the boiling stew and let it disappear quickly in her mouth. Upon Aejin’s reprimanding look she just grinned innocently. “There is this one Korean in one of the teams... the baseball idol of South Korea – that’s why” Aejin sighed and pushed Jisuk away from the pot before she would snack on the whole stew. “Ahhh – Yunhee’s Mister number 50” Jisuk grinned knowingly and left for the living room where she found Yunhee and Hyunshik in a heated discussion to which team was the better one. The smaller girl seemed totally prepared for the upcoming game with the well-known Doosan Bears tricot – a huge 50 covering the back. Jisuk walked just past them without bothering to greet them. They wouldn’t hear her anyways and she had no intention to join this discussion whatsoever. “Heyo, bro~” Jisuk sat down on the couch next to Hyunwoo who lazed about on the couch. He glanced at her shortly before continuing to hit the buttons on the controller in his hands and stared on the screen again. “What’s up?” “I heard you are going to stay out late tonight?” she raised an eyebrow at him. Hyunwoo nodded. “Are you sure it’s with a friend?” Jisuk wriggled her eyebrows thinking back how he had a crush on that class president girl. “Yep – with Linus… why?” “Ah, it’s nothing… I just thought that your sudden interest in football was a good excuse for you to date a girl without Aejin saying anything.” “I wouldn’t plan a date on a Sunday evening” he chuckled – which died out quickly and was replaced with a quiet: “Chaerin has a boyfriend anyways…”. “Oh” was all Jisuk could utter. “It’s better this way… looking at her boyfriend I could have never offered her the same”. “That’s bullshit – what does he have what you don’t have?” “A modeling contract with Codes Combine” he said without hesitating. Jisuk snorted, “So he is just handsome? Then Chaerin might not be the best for you… she is way too superficial”. “Don’t say that about her – she is not like that!” “If you say so…” Jisuk shrugged and leaned back to watch him play his video game. “Then is Linus your next love interest? Or why are you pretending to be interested in football?” Jisuk continued to grill him on that topic. He vehemently shook his head. “No, he is the new transfer student – the girls dig him so I thought becoming close with him would…” Jisuk’s hand met the back of his head. “What is that for?” he complained, “I died because of you!”. “Serves you right! You shouldn’t take advantage of people like that!” “Who are you? My mom?” “wHo ArE yOu? My mOm?” she parroted him and crossed her arms, “You either become friends with  him because he is an okay person or you don’t… with your lack of charms he wouldn’t be able to help you anyways” she stuck out her tongue at him. “Stop trying to play the moralizer – you kind of scare me” he shuddered. “Then don’t make me…” she was interrupted by the doorbell. “That must be him!” he jumped up from the couch and left Jisuk in midst her now harmless threat. Jisuk followed him curiously to the door where Aejin was already about to open it. A young boy with fawn  disheveled hair and a chic aura stood in the doorframe, “Oh my”, Aejin smiled at him and offered to come in. “Thank you” he bowed slightly and took a few steps inside casually waving at Hyunwoo. “I am Jung Linus, a friend of Hyunwoo” he introduced himself to Aejin and Jisuk. “What a nice name” Aejin clasped her hands together, “Are you a Korean American?” “Mom!” Hyunwoo complained impatiently – he wanted to just leave. Linus shook his head, “I am from Germany…” “Mom, do you smell that?” Hyunwoo asked fanning air towards his nostrils. Aejin let go of Linus and smelled the air – “Oh no! The dinner” she hurried into the kitchen. “Go quickly before she comes back!” Jisuk urged the two boys and waved them goodbye. Linus and Hyunwoo walked from the door to a beige scooter and Linus coolly threw a helmet towards his friend who caught it casually. “There is a slight change of plans” Linus began before starting the motor, “My parents decided to watch something else – we will be going to my sister’s place”. Hyunwoo shrugged – he didn’t really care. “Alright”.

Jisuk closed the door after seeing the back lights of the scooter disappearing on the street and returned to Aejin bringing the stew on the table. Hyunshik and Yunhee had postponed their discussions to some later time and set the table. “Where are Kimiko and Youngjae by the way?” “The last time I have seen Kimiko was when I left her reading in our room.” Yunhee shrugged. “She surely is still there – she had a huge chunk in her hands.” “Will you get her? Oh, and check if Youngjae is in his room”. Yunhee nodded and slowly went up the stairs. “What is he doing in his room all day long? He isn’t only playing games , is he?” Jisuk asked Aejin and Hyunshik who just shrugged, “You weren’t any better – if I remember correctly you were behind your computer screen all the time back in Daegu” Aejin replied dryly. “Yeah, but I didn’t just play games…” Jisuk murmured back and sat down on her usual seat. Yunhee came back with Youngjae and Kimiko following her. After everyone had eaten until their stomachs were about to burst they moved to the living room turning on the baseball game. It hadn’t started yet – there were some interviews with trainers and last but not least the interview with the star of the whole broadcasting – Kim Hyun Soo. “That’s your Mister number 50?” Jisuk asked a little disappointed - “I imagined him to be… a little bit more handsome”. Hyunshik laughed out loud. “You can say what you want – but that doesn’t change a thing. He is still part of the reason why I started playing baseball seriously!”. “Him? How is that?” “That is a very long story…” Yunhee smiled reminiscing about her middle school days, “The game is starting!” The door bell rang suddenly and Aejin looked at Jisuk and signed her to get the door. “Are we expecting someone?” Hyunshik put down his beer and looked at the young boarders. “My friend is coming by – don’t mind us” Jisuk got up from the couch and walked out of the room towards the front door already seeing Jinah’s silhouette behind the frosted glass of the door. “How you doin’?” Jisuk grinned at her best friend and let her in. “Work was hell today - everything was a mess and you know, kids aren’t very helpful when they want to play with you non-stop”, Jinah sighed and slipped out of her high heels making her tall appearance shrink  down up to Jisuk’s nose. “Yeah - I have the problem all the time” Jisuk rolled her eyes at Jinah as if she was stating the obvious. “However, the mailman brought something very pleasant”, she opened her handbag and fished out an envelope handing it over to Jisuk. While examining it she walked into dining room hearing the rest of the house cheering for the game. Aejin sat quietly at the side knitting and occasionally looking on the TV while Youngjae didn’t mind the game at all – he was too immersed in his phone. Kimiko walked past the two bowing slightly to the unknown woman and decided to go upstairs. “Good evening” Jinah bowed at them – everyone except Aejin gave her a polite greeting. “Who’s playing?” Jinah ignored Aejin and took a few steps towards them looking at the screen. “Ah, the Orioles are playing…” Jinah nodded and stood there for some time watching the game. Jisuk was way too occupied with the mail Jinah had handed her that she didn’t mind her friend. The insignia of Yonsei University was printed on the upper left corner with Jinah’s address in the lower right one. “It’s already opened…” Jisuk noticed and Jinah looked at her. “Duh, it’s my mail – of course I opened it”. “Why does my result gets send to you anyways?” Jisuk raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I was the one who registered you – so I have the right to be the first one to know”. Jisuk glanced at her friend one last time before she took out the letter and tossed the envelope aside. Without saying a word or even changing her expression in any way she read the letter and in the end looked into the glistening eyes of Jinah – who clasped her hands together. “Amazing – isn’t it?” “What is amazing?” the others sitting on the couch turned their attentions towards the two woman standing in the dining room. “Jisuk got accepted at Yonsei as a scholarship student!” Jinah squealed excited. Aejin was quick to jump on her feet and abandon her knitting-tools just so she could snatch the letter out of Jisuk’s hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you applied for college?” Aejin hit her shoulder – but didn’t even give her time to answer before pulling her into a tight embrace. “And on top of that: Yonsei! I am so proud of you!” Aejin’s excitement was way bigger than Jisuk who just shrugged it off – it was a pleasant feeling knowing she was cut out for one of the SKY-Universities in South Korea; but college had never been her goal so her happiness was limited. Hyunshik also joined them in celebration and left the game behind with Yunhee being the only one left actually watching it. “What made you suddenly change your mind?” Aejin asked remembering how Jisuk had always reacted annoyed every time she had tried to get her into college. And now she suddenly had a scholarship. “You didn’t tell them?” Jinah asked nudging Jisuk’s arm. Jisuk shook her head and smiled innocently –“There’s nothing to tell them… “ An awkward laugh left her mouth and Jinah huffed. “We’ll talk about that later”, Jinah whispered. “Of course, we will” Jisuk mumbled. Sudden yelling from the couch interrupted them and they saw Yunhee talking insistently with the TV ending with a dramatic drop on her knees. “Yaaas!” she victoriously put her hands up and Youngjae looked at her shocked from the back. “What is happening?” he laughed at the situation. “Homerun!” Yunhee imitated the batting and raised her hand to give the confused boy a high five. “Is that good?” he confirmed before letting their hands meet in the air. “You betcha!”   “No, no, no!” Hyunshik walked in front of the TV and tore his hair, “That can’t be!” “Who’s the better team now?” Yunhee sneered and crossed her arms satisfied. Hyunshik gave her a glare and sat down back on the couch again. “Okay – let’s forget about this for a moment!” Aejin grabbed the remote control and turned the TV off even though Yunhee and her husband were complaining. “Because we have something which a lot more worth celebrating for” Aejin pulled Jisuk to her side. “My only child who is going to college” she praised her. “What about Hyunwoo?” “I gave up hope long ago…” Aejin mumbled back. “Welcome in the club of Yonsei Students!” Yunhee said, pointing from her to Youngjae and then to the upper floor. Jisuk chuckled, “Yeah, sounds like a really cool club”. Jinah parked her car on the parking lot in front of the faculty of engineering and turned off the motor before looking expectant at her co-driver. “I am going to be honest with you – I am not very thrilled going in there” Jisuk said not even thinking about unbuckling herself yet. “You don’t have to be thrilled about a boring preparatory course… you just have to attend it”. “Ha ha” Jisuk replied dryly and removed the seatbelt. “It’s the best time to find some friends…” Jinah started but was interrupted by Jisuk: “Yeah, and we both know that I am very good in seizing this opportunity”. “Don’t worry about that, you are studying computer engineering as an average pretty girl – you won’t have any problems finding friends”, Jinah smirked mischievously. “Alright – I don’t think me being a girl would be an issue” Jisuk clarified making Jinah chuckle, “If you think so, just go in already – there are some people whose lunch break isn’t the whole day long” Jinah said impatiently. “You are your own boss… you can extend your break as much as you like” Jisuk opened the door, grabbed her bag laying in the leg room and got out of the car. “See you!” She shut the door again and walked up to the building with no motivation whatsoever. The room she had to go to was the same she had the surprise exam in and the docent giving this preparatory course was the one supervising the exam as well. As soon as Jisuk had opened the door she instantly knew what Jinah had meant with her being a girl would help her a lot – and that it was an issue. The room was filled with freshly graduated boys who one by one had sensed the other sex setting foot into the room and turned their head towards the door. Jisuk was a little overwhelmed – she wasn’t used to so many people giving her attention. They started murmuring and talking with each other while they occasionally but excitedly glanced at her. This definitely wasn’t helping in making the idea of going to college tempting for her. “Okay, everybody sit down!” the professor came into the  room – again wearing a knitted sweater. Jisuk hurried to the next empty seat in her reach and watched the professor writing his name on the blackboard. “I am Professor Ji Gongyoo. I am happy to see some familiar faces here” his gaze shifted over the crowd of students and Jisuk swore that he was also looking at her. “What I am going to tell you in this course might be nothing new to the majority here – but I’ll start with basic knowledge and vocabulary nonetheless. At the end of the week I’ll concentrate on organization of your schedule and the different study-portals we are working with” he summarized and Jisuk sighed leaning back. That sounded like a very exciting course. She noticed some of the students hurrying to get paper and a pen ready – rushing off to take notes of every word the professor said as if their life depended on it. Her neighbor however also leaned back relaxed and watched something on his mobile phone – giving the professor not even the slightest bit of attention. Not even ten minutes had passed and Jisuk was bored – so she curiously leaned her upper body to the side so she could look unnoticed on the phone of her neighbor. It was a foreign show, however, with Korean subtitles so Jisuk was able to follow even without the sound of the video. Totally immersed into the show she chuckled at the jokes and called her neighbor’s attention to herself. He raised his gaze to look at her through his thick black glasses with a dry expression. Jisuk noticed him looking at her and apologized quietly before turning her head towards the front again. “You want?” he reached out to offer her the other part of the earphones. Jisuk wasn’t sure if she should take it – she didn’t want to seem rude. But on the other hand, she saw no prominent reason why she should not to. “What’s your name?” he asked whispering. “Jisuk”, she replied putting the earphone in her ear and instantly heard the typical sitcom background laugh. “Nice to meet you, Jisuk. My name’s Bam Bam.” He reached out his hand for her to shake. “For real?” she took his hand staring at him unbelieving. There were no such parents cruel enough to give their own child such a name. “No, of course not. It’s just a nickname…” “You two seem to discuss a very important topic!” the professor suddenly called them out making them pull out the earphones quickly before he could notice them. “Mind to share it with us?” he inquired making everyone turn their heads towards Jisuk once again. The two slowly shook their heads. “Hm, didn’t think so. Then please postpone your conversation to after this course!” he said with a warning tone resonating with it. “So where was I? Oh, right – programming…” Jisuk blocked the professor out again and put the earphone back in exchanging an impish grin with BamBam. Maybe going to college wasn’t that boring as she had thought.

[skzsauce01]

Bird Is the Word

Synopsis: A series of drunk texts leads to one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to you. Or, Han Jisung is never going to let you forget the time you forgot the word ‘bird.’ College AU. Not a text fic but does include some texts.

Warning: alcohol, a lot of bird puns

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Han Jisung

2:23 AM [Me]: sOS SOS SOS SOSOSOS 2:23 AM [Me]: I NEED HELPPPP 2:23 AM [Jisung Bio]: You okay?? 2:23 AM [Me]: YOU SMART HELPPPPP

2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you want me to call the police?? 2:24 AM [Me]: WHAT ARE THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP CALLED 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Is this a code word? 2:24 AM [Me]: THEY GO FLAP AND EAT SEEDS 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you mean birds? 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you drunk?

2:25 AM [Me]: [blurry_photo_of_your_window.jpg] 2:25 AM [Me]: HERE LOOK 2:25 AM [Me]: YES BIRDS 2:25 AM [Me]: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH 2:25 AM [Me]: LOVE YOUUUUU

In your defense, you were drunk. And when you are drunk, your critical thinking skills disappear and are replaced by pure, uninhibited stupidity. It’s like some twisted Jekyll and Hyde situation, but only when you drink, you transform into this other version of yourself instead of suppressing it.

You mostly remember the things you have done and said while under the influence. The most embarrassing ones tend to be fuzzy. If it weren’t for the grainy phone video taken by Seungmin and your own voice cheerfully declaring that you had an idea, you wouldn’t have realized that you were the idiot who tried to make a chalk mural at the four-way intersection in the middle of the night. You didn’t even have chalk, but that didn’t stop you from drawing on the asphalt with a broken pen you found on the sidewalk.

Good thing Seungmin had the foresight to drag you back to the crosswalk before a car could come speeding by.

However, that legendary act of idiocy doesn’t even compare to this new one. Forget the fact that you could have died.

Your biology class just went over survival of the fittest using Darwin’s finches as an example. How in the world did you forget about the word ‘bird?’ Why did you think it was a good idea to ask the cute guy in your bio study group about “THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP?” And why, why, why did you insist on telling him that you loved him? The ‘THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH’ was already enough.

Jisung is never going to let you live this down.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not like you spent the entire Sunday morning knocking back glasses of water and wishing it was vodka instead. It’s not like you drafted about five different apology messages and deleted them all. It’s not like you have to see him in class tomorrow.

Really, you’re fine.

You go out of your way to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, which probably means you are very conspicuous. Do normal people not wear hoodies and sweatpants to class now, or are you just overthinking everything? The two people in the row in front of you are wearing jeans, and the girl heading down your row has a polka-dotted dress on. A secondary glance at the girl tells you that it’s another member of your study group. Speaking of the study group, maybe you should find another one. Preferably one without Jisung in it.

“Morning,” Lia says as she takes the seat beside you. She sets down her purple water bottle on the floor with a light clink. “How was your weekend?”

Terrible, but you say, “It was fine. I finished up the readings and did some notes. How about you?”

“Those readings took me forever!” she groans. “I was trying to finish everything on Saturday, so I could go out on Sunday. Which I did manage to do, so it all worked out. I got a new dress!” She plucks at the bodice of her dress, and you finally take a closer look at the pattern.

They’re not polka dots. They’re freaking birds — swoopy doves with outstretched wings. Or at least you think they’re doves. Your lack of bird knowledge speaks for itself.

“It’s pretty,” you hollowly say. The universe seems determined to remind you of your texts. Lia’s face falters, and you realize your disdain came across as you lying. “No, it’s not like that! Just… bad experiences with birds. You look really nice in this.”

She brightens up. “Oh, thanks! What do you mean by ‘bad experiences?’ What happened?”

“Good morning, birdbrain!”

“That happened.”

Looking far too happy for a Monday morning, Jisung takes the other seat beside you. He has a cup of coffee stacked high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, and you wonder if his extreme cheerfulness is from the caffeine or from your impending public humiliation. Why did you have to pick this guy to have a crush on? Sure, he’s cute and smart and sometimes nice, but there are plenty of people who have those traits without his witticism.

Lia looks at you with more amusement than concern. “So what happened?”

You tell her about what really happened during the weekend, and Jisung laughs all the while, reenacting his facial expression when he received your first frantic SOS message. Meanwhile, you sink lower and lower into your chair, ignoring your tailbone’s cries of pain as you slide further down the thin cushion.

“You can’t hide forever,” Jisung remarks as he looks at your slumping form. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad. And you were drunk anyway.”

Yeah, you were, but the whole thing is doubly embarrassing because of how much you want him to like you. The overenthusiastic, all-caps messages are normal whenever you text while drunk, but ‘I love yous’ and the even rarer ‘I LOVE YOUUUU’  are few and far between. Only six people excluding Jisung have received them: your parents, your best friend, and your statistics group project members because you accidentally sent the message to the wrong chat.

On the bright side, seven is a lucky number. It means absolutely nothing in this case, and it’s hardly relevant to how you’re feeling, but everyone copes differently. Yours just happens to be clinging onto any silver lining available for solace.

“Anyway,” Lia cuts in, saving you from replying, “you’re here early, Jisung.”

He shrugs and flashes her a playful smile. However, his eyes are focused on you when he says, “You know what they say: early bird gets the worm.”

You give him a pitiful attempt of a withering glare. “I hate you.”

“Okay, fine.” He tugs at the shoulder of your hoodie to motion for you to stop trying to melt into the ground and to help you up. “It’s ‘cause I knew you would be here early.”

You are calm, you are fine, you will not be flustered. He just teased you five seconds ago; you should not be this willing to forgive him under these circumstances. Nonetheless, you slide back up to a more normal sitting position and try to pretend that you are still mildly upset. His next sentences make that impossible.

“You guys want brownies? Felix was stress-baking again.”

One may call you easily swayed by food, and they would be right. Jisung lets you have a coveted corner piece, and you decide that he’s alright again. He stretches an arm in front of you to get to Lia, and you lean back to avoid bumping into him. It also gives you a clear view of his profile. Wow, is he pretty. Look at that jawline. Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his mouth splits into a familiar excited grin.

“Are those birds?”

“Yep,” Lia answers, looking over at you to check your reaction. She tries to hide her smile, but it’s clear as day. You’re not entirely sure what she’s going to say next, but you already know it’s going to involve your current least favorite animal species. “Pretty… dove-ly, don’t you think?”

At least you were right about them being doves. “I hate you both.”

Jisung laughs at her pun and holds out his palm for a high-five. “You know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.”

“I really hate you both.”

Your initial prediction that Jisung is never going to let you live this down is correct. When you meet your bio group again Thursday night to study for the upcoming quiz, Jisung brings lemon poppy seed muffins for seemingly no other reason than to tease you. His housemate is still stress-baking, and judging by the bird silhouette made of glaze, Felix is very stressed and very eager to indulge in Jisung’s ideas.

“They’re finches!” Jisung proudly announces as he sets one right in front of you. The stupid decoration on top mocks you, but the muffin looks and smells delicious.  

Hyunjin, who does not know about your current plight but does know about Darwin’s finches, appreciatively coos at them. “They’ve even got different beak shapes! These are so cool. Man, Felix must hate econ right now.”

“No kidding,” you mutter as you begin peeling off the wrapper. Felix must hate you as well because one bite of this is almost enough for you to forgive Jisung again. It’s that good. How are you supposed to stay mad at Jisung when he gives you free delicious food? “Forget college, he needs to be in culinary school.”

He smirks from across the table, and it takes a lot of willpower for you to pretend you’re unphased. “What if I told you that I made these?”

“Then I would call you a liar.” He better be lying. You do not need another reason to justify your crush on him.

“And you would be right.” He slides his plastic container down to Lia, who has just arrived and is eyeballing the muffins like a predator. “But I did help him.”

“It’s really good,” you admit. You continue nibbling on it, determined to make the muffin last as long as you can. “What part did you help him out with?”

“The birds on top. Turns out drawing them with runny glaze is hard. I gave you the prettiest one, so don’t get mad about the whole bird thing. It goes with what we’re studying too.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you fold the wrapper into halves over and over again. “But only because these are amazing.”

Hyunjin leans in closer, effectively popping the intimate bubble you and Jisung were in. “What’s ‘the bird thing?’”

Fortunately, Yeji has finally arrived, which gives you the perfect excuse to stop Jisung from letting another person know of your drunk texts. You make a big production of pulling out your notebook from your backpack and rifling through your pencil bag for a pen.

“Should we get started?” you ask. Lia nods and uncaps one of her many highlighters.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jisung whispers to Hyunjin, winking at you. You could cry, melt, die. You could do a lot of things, but you opt to stick your tongue out at him. So what if you’re being childish? You can barely concentrate on the real world after that wink. To Yeji, he says, “There’s snacks, if Lia hasn’t eaten them all yet.”

“Hey!”

Hyunjin laughs at her notorious sweet tooth before turning to Yeji. “He gave Y/N the prettiest one, so there’s probably only his fails left.”

“They’re not bad!”

Lia has only had two, so there are more than enough to choose from. Yeji peers inside the container before selecting the one closest to her.

“Is this a plague doctor?” she asks as she suppresses a laugh. “It’s got a top hat.”

Jisung shakes his head and groans. “You chose the worst one on purpose. It’s one of Darwin’s finches. You would have known if you studied.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t draw.” Taking no notice of Jisung’s affronted expression, she takes out the textbook the five of you split the cost to buy. “Okay, plague doctor cupcakes out of the way, what are the four main theories of evolution?”

“They’re lemon poppy seed finch muffins,” he clarifies.

“That’s not an evolution theory,” Hyunjin cheekily replies, earning him an elbow nudge from Jisung and a laugh from everyone else.

You end up answering Yeji’s question and reward your correct answer with another muffin. Besides them being addictive, you’ll need some energy for the rest of the study session if all this talk about birds persists. You select the most plague doctor-ish one out of the box, and Jisung notices.

“Seriously?” he pouts. “I give you the best one, and this is how you repay me? I thought you said you weren’t mad about the bird thing.”

You ignore the last sentence. “What? You’re not proud of these?” you say, mock astonished as you give him a good view of the glaze on top. “They look exactly like plague doctors.”

“I hate you.”

You smile and shrug before returning back into the discussion about Lamarckism. Let him get a taste of his own medicine.

Unfortunately, as promised and as possible revenge, Jisung tells Hyunjin about ‘the bird thing,’ and Yeji overhears since she is only two chairs away. You try melting into the ground instead, but Lia holds you in place as the story continues, so you are stuck reliving the memory. You knew Jisung wouldn’t let you forget, but you didn’t account for everyone else in the group finding out and joining in on the torture.

But thanks to Jisung’s brilliant idea to bring those spectacularly decorated muffins, he doesn’t go unscathed either. It’s a mediocre consolation prize, but you’ll take it.

All around, it’s a productive study session, if a bit long, courtesy of everyone’s unrelenting shots at you and Jisung.

Your study group splits off in three separate directions once you’re all at the library entrance: Yeji back to the on-campus dorms where she’s an RA, Hyunjin and Lia to the off-campus apartments a few streets down, you and Jisung to the bus stop to your apartments on the other of campus. There’s a few people already sitting at the bench, so you and Jisung stand under the streetlight nearby. A moth intent on reaching the light source rams itself repeatedly against the glass covering, and you tiredly watch it. You yawn.

“Not much of a night owl?” he asks. With no clever reply ready, you gently shove him towards the bushes, but he only sways at your push. He throws his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll stop for today.”

“I’m really sorry for sending you that,” you say. You haven’t touched the chat between you and him since the incident. “And for not apologizing earlier.”

“It’s alright. Although I almost had a heart attack when you sent me ‘SOS’ like five times.”

You grimace as you remember your frantic texts. If you think back hard enough, you remember furiously tapping at your screen, trying to get his attention as quick as possible because you really, really, really needed to know what the animal that landed on your windowsill was called. Your housemate was in the next room over. You could have asked her instead, but no, you decided that Jisung from bio was the best option. Not even the group chat, just Jisung himself.

“Sorry again,” you weakly reply.

“It really is alright. Finding bird puns is my new favorite hobby now.” He wryly smiles. “I have so many more to try on you. You’re gonna love it.”

Is that endearing or annoying? Living rent-free inside his head isn’t terrible, especially since he seems to do the same in yours. You’ll probably have to endure lots more puns from him in the future, but for now, you’ll decide that it’s endearing.

The bus arrives, and you sit in the back with him. The ride to the apartment complex is quiet; only a group of people near the front are speaking to one another in low voices. Jisung makes no attempt at continuing the conversation, and you are content to stare out into the neon lights outside the window. You can see him in the reflection on the glass. The empty container devoid of muffins sits on Jisung’s lap, his phone placed face down on the lid. If it weren’t for all the other passengers on the bus, you would be convinced that it was just you and him, enjoying each other’s company.

You’re almost sad when you reach your stop.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” he asks as you step down to the pavement. “Yours is farther down, right?”

“Isn’t your place right here?” you say. You’ve seen him walk out from this particular complex several times while waiting for the bus. That’s not stalking. “You don’t have to go out of your way. It’s just a block away.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely walking you home.”

You hesitate a bit, but Jisung is already taking small steps in the direction of your apartment. A little more time with him doesn’t sound too horrendous right now. “Okay.”

Just like the bus ride, no conversation, which suits you fine. Jisung seems more enthralled by looking into the windows of apartment residents anyway. You can’t blame him, especially when it appears that someone is having their own mini rave in their living room. Once at the doors to your building, you thank him and tell him good night.

“No problem and good luck tomorrow.” His voice is softer at night, or maybe it’s because he’s tired as well.

Your tone matches his as well. “You too. See you in class then.”

“Good night.”

A few minutes after midnight, just as you’re about to get into bed, a message from Jisung pops up. Not Jisung in the study group, just Jisung.

12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Hey, I know you’re not much of a night owl, so would you call yourself a morning lark? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re always an early bird to class 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you emu-sed? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: :D

Well, he did say he would stop for the day. It’s technically the next day. You reply with an annoyed face before burrowing yourself under your blankets. There are other things to worry about, such as your quiz in nine hours.

You dream of birds, namely finches, that night. Thanks, Jisung.

“This is why I tell you to never drink alone,” Seungmin laughs. He picks up the last slice of pizza from the pan and folds it in half like the heathen he is before taking the first bite. “Bad things always happen.”

“To be fair, Ryujin was home.”

“In a completely different room from you.”

You groan and supplement your exasperation with an extra aggressive tear on your crust. “Okay, fine. I’ve learned my lesson. The point is, he won’t stop with the bird jokes, and I’m going insane.”

Seungmin, having been collateral damage from your drunken mishaps before, is unsympathetic. He still hasn’t quite forgiven you for the time you tried to make a Molotov cocktail in his kitchen. Look, the clickbait video you watched online promised that it would be a fun and easy science experiment, and your other self decided that it was a fantastic idea. Nothing bad happened in the end though since you couldn’t find a lighter. So, Seungmin, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“You have a crush on this guy. Why are you upset that he’s flirting with you?”

“He’s cute until he opens his mouth and starts giving me grief about birds.” You sigh as you remember the last text he sent: a photo of the sunset from his apartment window with the caption, A bird’s eye view of the neighborhood. On one hand, you were thrilled to have received a non-homework related picture. On the other hand, bird joke.

“You would do the same.”

“I know, but it still sucks.” You wipe your fingers with a napkin and amuse yourself with spinning the empty pan as Seungmin (slowly) finishes eating. “No more Jisung talk. How was your date?”

Seungmin turns flustered, just like you knew he would. “It wasn’t a date! I’m just her photographer. This is a business arrangement, nothing else.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Hey, is that Jisung over there?” he asks, nodding over your shoulder.

“I’m not that gullible,” you sigh, though you can’t say you aren’t tempted. Seungmin loves to make fun of you, and he probably wants to get back at you for teasing him about the girl he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time with.

“Gull-ible?”

“Not you too," you plead. It's already awful with one person. To deter him any further, you continue, "Anyway, back to your definitely-not-a-date date—”

“Hey, Y/N, is that you?”

Seungmin has his “I told you so” face on. After sending him a glare, which he promptly pretends not to see, you turn around, resting your forearm on the back of your chair. Jisung, holding a pan of oven-fresh pizza, smiles back at you.

“Hey,” you greet. He's wearing the same black and red sweatshirt he usually has on, but why does he look so much better in it when he's in a pizza place than in class or in the library? “How are you doing? How’s your Saturday so far?”

“I just woke up like an hour ago, so it’s been pretty good, I guess.” His eyes go to Seungmin, who is now sipping on his soda, pretending to not eavesdrop. “Is this your…”

“This is my friend, Seungmin,” you quickly answer. Other than the fact that you need to make it abundantly clear that you are available, there is no way you’re ever going to date Seungmin. Apart from the girl he claims to not be dating, he’s even more merciless when it comes to reminding you about your drunken ideas. You can’t pass the intersection without him nudging your arm. “Seungmin, this is Jisung. We have bio together.”

Seungmin nods like he hasn’t heard of Jisung before. “Hey, nice to meet you. So, do you guys learn about birds in bio?”

Jisung lights up like a Christmas tree, and you want to cover yourself with the pizza pan. Praying for the ground to swallow you up also sounds like a decent option. In the midst of debating whether hiding under the table would be too odd, you notice that Seungmin has finally finished his slice.

“We should get going,” you interrupt. You do not need Seungmin to start sharing other stupid things you’ve done. He’s about five seconds away from telling Jisung about the intersection chalk mural. “And you probably want to eat dinner.”

Jisung sees right through your act, but he lets it go. “Yeah, Felix is probably starving. See you on Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

You expect him to go to wherever Felix is, but he still remains behind you. With a lopsided grin, he asks, “Should I expect any quail-ity texts at 2 AM tonight?”

Seungmin laughs, Jisung laughs, and you stare at the ceiling, wondering what you did to deserve this. Surely there were other people you could have in your life besides these two jerks.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Jisung sings as you correctly answer his question. This week’s study session consists of a game show Jisung has created, and you almost want to believe that he put in all this effort just to say that phrase. “Another point for you.”

You sigh as Yeji slides a wrapped piece of candy towards you. It’s her turn to bring snacks, and though milk chocolate the size of golf balls are great, you’re still dreaming of those wickedly delicious cake slices Jisung shared with you yesterday. Hummingbird cake, he claimed, it was called. Bananas, pineapples, and pecans, all combined together to make a sweet treat. When you cheekily asked why his housemate was so stressed all the time — you really don’t mind. Sorry, Felix — Jisung cheerfully informed you that he made the entire thing himself. After you picked up your jaw from the floor, you stammered something about it being passable. Not nearly as good as Felix’s stuff, you said, lying through your teeth. Jisung, again, saw right through it but let it slide. See? Sometimes he’s nice. However, you did not need another reason to be attracted to Han Jisung, but here you are.

“Seriously, Yeji?” you mumble as you pull apart the blue foil. “You just had to pick the brand named after a bird?” It doesn’t stop you from popping the chocolate into your mouth though.

“They were on sale!”

While you and Yeji bicker about Dove chocolate and how the universe is conspiring against you, Hyunjin answers the next question correctly. Yeji absentmindedly pushes his reward towards him.

“No chicken dinner for me?” he asks.

Jisung shakes his head. “Your question was easy. You get a pheasant instead. Or a quail. Any bird smaller than a chicken works.”

“A hummingbird then?” you suggest. You really need to stop thinking about that cake. “But I hear those aren’t that great.”

“You already ate every single crumb of that cake I gave you!” Jisung says, but there’s not a drop of displeasure in his tone. In fact, he seems rather happy that you liked it so much that you remembered about it. “All my hard work gone in five seconds.”

“You made her a cake?” Lia gasps in disbelief, secretive note checking forgotten. She’s in last place with only six points, so no one cares too much about her cheating. “What about us? We’re your study buddies too!”

Hyunjin and Yeji chorus their agreements, and you realize that he only shared his cake with you. He followed you out of the lecture hall and gave it to you in a plastic container, so you assumed that he also hand delivered a few slices to everyone else. Never mind that he oh-so-conveniently had a fork with him. Never mind that he sat with you at a bench and watched you try a few bites before devouring it all. Never mind all that.

Wait. Does this mean he likes you too?

You fold and unfold your discarded foil wrappers as you contemplate over this revelation, sneaking glances at Jisung all the while. He looks… normal. Infuriatingly so. Same carefree smile, same arguments with Hyunjin, same lackadaisical chair leaning even though he fell backwards that one time. How is one supposed to tell if someone actually likes you when said someone is the same all the time?

Jisung promises to bring something for the next study session to make up for not sharing his cake and continues on with the review game like nothing has happened. However, those thoughts are still in the back of your mind when the session ends. You have gained five more pieces of chocolate and no further information as to whether Jisung is actually into you or not. As per usual, you and he head to the bus stop together. It’s more crowded than last week since it’s only eight.

“Did you have a pheasant time today?” he asks, pausing next to a hedge.

You keep your eyes on the asphalt instead of looking at him. It’s much easier to pretend you’re calm when you don’t have vision of his face. “I see you discovered pheasants recently. And yes, it was fun. Thanks for making it.”

“You don’t want to crow about winning the game?” When you grimace — you did kind of want to point out how amazing your score was but now you don’t — he quickly adds, “Okay, okay. But you’re going to ace that quiz tomorrow.”

And you simply say, “I know,” because you are and because you have nothing else prepared to say.

It goes quiet, and with only the sounds of cars racing by, Jisung abruptly says, “This is a little awkward now. Or should I say… hawk-ward?”

You groan and break your staring contest with the road to give him an exasperated look. A mistake because he’s smiling so wide, squirrels would be jealous of his cheeks. He has no right to be so cute after those jokes. “Why do I feel like you searched up ‘bird puns’ online and are trying to insert them in every possible scenario?”

“Because I did and because I am.” He sighs in contentment. “Those were the best texts I’ve ever received. I’m never letting you forget it.”

You were right about that, and now you have verbal confirmation from the man himself. Another mediocre consolation prize you will gladly accept. But for now, you say, “Well, toucan play at that game, plague doctor Han Jisung.” The only perk of hearing all these wretched jokes is that you are now rather knowledgeable about them. Thank you, Seungmin, for making that one a few days ago.

“They looked just like finches!” he protests, but he’s laughing along, head tilted back. He sighs again. When he turns to face you again, his eyes are soft. “That was a pretty good one.”

“Seungmin came up with it.” There’s a warm feeling spreading across your chest, constricting your air flow and making all your blood rush to your cheeks. It was one compliment; why are you like this? What are you going to do if he keeps looking at you like that? You swiftly go back to the road, counting the number of cars that pass by. One, two, three, four…

And a gray bus pulling up to the curb.

“Bus is here,” you uselessly announce. Jisung follows you into the growing crowd surrounding the entrance. He hovers behind you as the two of you wait for the people in front to board, and his presence is more palpable than usual. “There’s a lot of people today,” you remark in a vain attempt to distract yourself.

“Yeah, everyone’s heading home for the day.” He pauses dramatically before adding, “The birds are all going back to their nest.”

The joke successfully snaps you out of your haze. “That’s not a real saying.”

“I think it should be. It makes perfect sense!”

“You’re—” As the line shuffles forward, you try to think of something bird related, but he beats to the punch.

“Cuckoo?”

It’s almost impressive how much time he has invested in annoying you. Does it make you fall for him more? No, not really, or so you try to convince yourself. It’s strangely endearing, just like everything about him. You merely answer, “Yes.”

He chuckles and nudges you forward up the steps of the bus.

Even though there’s a little bit of daylight left, Jisung walks you back to your apartment building. You’re not upset by this, but where was this chivalry two weeks ago after the first study session? You teasingly ask him about it, and he turns bashful. How unlike him.

“I thought you lived in my complex, for some reason. You were always at the bus stop before me, so I assumed you lived nearby. I didn’t know until I overheard you and Yeji talking about it,” he says, hiding himself with his collar.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of the walkway to your building, “see you tomorrow then. Thanks for walking me back. Good night.”

The Jisung you’re used to seeing, is back with a mischievous smile and yet another joke. “Good night-ingale.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to seem too amused by it. He’s not charming, not even a little bit. “That was awful.” It’s the smile, you tell yourself. No one should have one like that. It has too much power.

“Yet I can see you smiling at it.”

Remain calm. You can do that. You’ve faked this before, so why is your head not cooperating right now? Jisung really needs to stop looking at you with anything more than a neutral face. It’s bad for you, like really, really bad. No witty remarks at the ready is typical, but you can’t even think of anything to say.

After an excruciating five seconds, you manage to stammer out, “Good night.” Cheeks aflame and your heart threatening to pop out of you like a cuckoo clock, you roughly yank open the door and bolt up the stairs. You have too much adrenaline in you right now. Waiting for the elevator knowing that he could be observing your twitchy movements, would be too nerve wracking.

Ryujin asks if you’re alright when she sees you hunched against the kitchen counter, out of breath and muttering to yourself.

“I decided to take the stairs,” you say, which only partially explains your dishevelled state. “I’ll be alright. I think.”

“I’ll get you some water. You look like you're about to collapse.”

Then your phone chimes with a new message, and you decidedly won’t be alright.

8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Did my nightingale pun quack you up that badly? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Was it that ducking good? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: :D

8:23 PM [Jisung Bio]: Anyway, good luck tomorrow. Sleep well and sweet dreams, morning lark

There is no food in the fridge. Well, no proper food. A bag of spinach that expired three days ago but still seems okay, does not count. The same goes for the half empty jar of peanut butter, but Ryujin would likely disagree with that. There’s a reason why the jar is half empty. However, if you actually want to eat something for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow, you need to go shopping.

For some strange reason, it does not occur to you that you can run into Jisung at the grocery store. Jisung belongs in four locations: the bus stop, the lecture hall, the library, and the pizza place you saw him at last week. Not the dairy aisle on a Wednesday night.

“Hey.” You stop in front of him, basket at your feet and hands folded in front of you like the world’s worst defense. Heart, stop beating so fast.

Jisung looks up from his phone to search for the owner of the voice and brightens when he sees that it’s you. “Hey, morning lark.” He has taken to calling you that ever since he sent that particular message. You wish it produced another reaction from you besides pure bliss, but that is the price you pay for pretending to be still annoyed by his jokes. That’s how bad your crush on him now is; you are increasingly beguiled by the puns. “Oh, did you need milk?”

“Yeah.” You grab a blue carton with a picture of a smiling cow from the shelf and place it in your basket. In the meantime, you can’t help but peer into Jisung’s. There is a bag of chocolate chips and a packet of gelatin. “Is this stuff for tomorrow’s study session?”

He nods and grabs the same brand of milk as you did. You get a rush of excitement, much to your chagrin. It’s just milk, and this is the most popular brand too. “Yeah. Felix is trying a new recipe, so you guys get to have some of the failed ones too.”

“What is it? Cheesecake?”

“You’ll see,” he mysteriously says. Then he adds, “You’re gonna love it,” which immediately gives away the theme.

“It’s something to do with birds, isn’t it?”

“You’ll see.”

And when you do see, you’re wrong. Library food rules ignored, at each seat, Jisung has set a slice of layer cake topped with chocolate ganache, no bird motifs of any sort. You take your usual spot at the end of the table and find that yours is slightly larger than the others. Well, except for maybe Lia’s. He has to placate her sweet tooth and her disappointment of not being able to have hummingbird cake.

“Did I not get a message or something?” Hyunjin asks when he takes in the over-the-top display. “Is this a dinner party?”

“Isn’t this against the library’s rules?” Yeji asks as she surreptitiously looks around for any librarians. The surrounding tables of fellow students won’t care.

Jisung elects to not answer Yeji’s concerns. “This is tonight’s snack,” he proudly replies. “Also, Felix wants feedback on it.”

You cut a section off with the plastic fork and marvel at the airiness of the cake. It’s unlike anything you have ever had. The frosting in between the sponge layers is so light, and the ganache is so dark and rich. “This is really amazing. It’s so fluffy. Wow. Tell Felix that he really needs to consider culinary school.”

“Wanna guess what it’s called?”

“Isn’t this just an extra fancy vanilla cake?” you ask. You take another bite, but other than the chocolate ganache on top, you can only taste vanilla. “I don’t know. The… vanilla fluff cake?”

“Nope.” He leans forward, face inches away from yours, lips curled into a smirk, and slowly says, “Bird’s milk cake.”

This can’t be real. Birds don’t even produce milk. “No way. You’re lying.” Even as you say the words, they sound false to your ears. Jisung has made it his mission to find anything and everything bird-related for you, so you doubt he’s lying.

“It’s called this” — he holds up his phone screen — “in Russian. It translates to ‘bird’s milk.’”

Ptichye moloko.

“You convinced Felix to make this, didn’t you?” you say. What are the chances that Felix conveniently wanted to make bird’s milk cake without any nudging from Jisung? Absolutely none. You have never even heard of this dessert before, let alone by it’s Russian name, and you’re willing to bet that Jisung searched up ‘bird cake’ or something of that nature just for this. Maybe that’s how he found out about hummingbird cake too.

“It’s all for you, morning lark,” he cheerfully replies, winking at you. He leans back in his chair again, precariously balancing on the two back legs. “I knew you’d like it.”

Jisung is really not making this easy for you. Forget subtleties, he’s just shamelessly flirting with you now. And in the sanctity of the library of all places! In a poor attempt to save yourself from this mess, you unconsciously begin to slide down the chair, trying to shield your hot face with your raised shoulders. Lia notices this — one of the perks having sat next to you for nearly four weeks during lectures — and grabs your forearm.

“No melting,” she reminds you, “or else you’re going to hit your head on the seat again.”

“I wasn’t melting,” you protest as you wriggle back up. Slowly dying might have been a better descriptor. That wink shot arrows into your already fragile heart. “We’re gonna get in trouble if one of the librarians sees this.”

“Guess we should get started then,” Hyunjin says. Yeji, the only responsible one in the group, begins pulling out the textbook, and everyone laughs at her eagerness. “Not what I meant, but that too.”

After you’re done with the cake and while the others are preoccupied about the timeline of human evolution, Jisung whispers across the table, “Did you still like it?”

“Yeah. No hard feelings about the name because it was good,” you whisper back.

“I thought it would turn out like this, morning lark. I know you love free food too much to be mad.”

The nickname again. You rest your cheek against your palm in a vain attempt to tamp down the growing heat. “Can I get a different name, plague doctor?”

He’s not at all phased by his own nickname, which doesn’t bode well for any future snarky remarks from you. “What, you don’t like birds or something?” He blinks so innocently back at you that you have to stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, well, that’s the—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Hyunjin interrupts, making you profusely blush and Yeji lightly laugh at the expression, “we’re gonna move on to the next section now. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” you reply even though you are most definitely not okay. Jisung, who you notice is uncharacteristically sheepish, echoes your sentiment.

It’s difficult not to stare at Jisung during the remainder of the study session. It seems to be true the other way around as well.

You’re sober when you read the messages, but you don’t think Jisung was when he sent them. Oh, how the tables have turned.

3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Good morning morning lark!! 3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Winner winner chicken dinner remember? So yes or no?

3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or maybe yes or yes? 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: I really want to go on a date with you 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Not lying I swear

3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind and every time I see a bird, I think about you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I bought grey goose because of you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: [jisung’s_hand_holding_grey_goose_vodka.jpg] 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I don’t even like it that much

3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You make me dizzy sometimes and I don’t know what to do 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re probably sleeping so good night larky 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or morning

3:06 AM [Jisung Bio]: Fly high in your dreams!!!

He must have been wasted and under no responsible supervision because this is what you would have done if you were in his place. Does he not have a Seungmin in his life? Or a Ryujin? There’s a Felix, so where was he when all of this happened?

But forget about Jisung’s own problems.

He wants to go on a date with you. A real date, not a study date with three other people and fake quiz questions. If his words are to be taken literally, then one involving a chicken dinner. Possibly a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, but a chicken dinner nonetheless.

He can’t stop thinking about you. All those bird jokes had you charmed, and all those cakes were baked with you in mind. They weren’t just for show. They were all about you.

You make him dizzy, which is hilarious because he does the same to you. He smiles at you so brightly, laughs so easily, and flirts so shamelessly that you never realized that you could ever make him feel that way.

And “fly high in your dreams?” You’re practically soaring in real life. Han Jisung, cute bio boy, plague doctor, pun enthusiast, surprisingly decent baker, wants to go on a date with you.

You, you, you!

While you alternate between hyperventilating and forgetting how to breathe as you process all this, three gray dots appear at the bottom of the chat. You clutch your phone as you wait. Apparently, your body is on the ‘forgetting how to breathe’ cycle.

11:14 AM [Jisung Bio]: I am so sorry about that. I was very drunk when I sent that

11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: You can just ignore them or delete them 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Highly recommend deleting 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Also sorry if I woke you up

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. Should you answer him over text, call, or in-person? Is in-person too dramatic though? You feel like something like this is supposed to be done face-to-face, but he’s probably hungover beyond belief.

11:16 AM [Me]: It’s okay. A morning lark is always up early anyway :) 11:16 AM [Me]: Were you serious though?

11:17 AM [Jisung Bio]: Can we meet up in an hour? At the bus stop? I want to talk to you 11:17 AM [Me]: Yeah. Me too

The bus stop is neutral territory or maybe just the closest meeting spot you and Jisung have. If it’s supposed to be neutral territory, it most definitely is not since his apartment complex is right behind it. Despite his close proximity to the spot, you arrive first, so you make yourself as comfortable as possible underneath the sign, standing in its shadow. It’s silly when you think about it, but you wish you dressed in something nicer than a hoodie. In your rush to leave the apartment, you threw on whatever, but maybe you should have worn something prettier for this confrontation. Make Jisung go dizzy and gain a little bit of power from that.

This is even worse than when you had to face him after you sent your drunk texts. At least then it was just a middling attraction and not a full-on crush.

“Hey, morning lark. You’re early. As expected.”

“Hey. You’re… alive.”

Jisung is strangely fresh-faced, not a hint of hungover clouding around him. Why can’t you look like him after a night of seemingly heavy drinking? Where are the pinched eyebrows from the blinding lights? The ghostly gray face? The haunted eyes as one remembers all the incredibly stupid things they did the night before? Unfair. Completely unfair.

“Yeah.” He’s wearing his usual sweatshirt, but his hands are stuffed into its pockets instead of being out and about. He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, uh, I meant everything I sent. And I’m serious about taking you to dinner, so do you want to go on a date with me?”

You anticipated this. Why does it feel like you have just finished running a marathon? “Yeah, I do. I really want to.”

He smiles so brightly, the sun would be jealous. Correction, should be jealous. You don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight than this since he sat down next to you on the first day of class and asked if you wanted to start a study group. He pumps his fist in the air like he’s a movie character, and you hide your laugh behind your hoodie sleeve. You’ve never seen him so happy before.

“How are you not hungover?” you ask as he raises his face to the sky, taking in the afternoon light, basking in the moment. He’s really living his movie character dreams. “You said you were really drunk.”

“I kind of lied?” he says, sounding more wistful than you would expect. When he looks back at you, you finally see dark circles underneath his eyes, but he is still as jubilant as before. “I was more tipsy than drunk. So, when do you wanna get that chicken dinner, winner, winner?”

It’s amazing how shy, excited Jisung disappears and how the usual casual, teasing Jisung reappears. That’s his Jekyll and Hyde moment, you suppose. And the switch is all activated by his one-track mind of bird jokes. How wonderful.

“Next week, after midterms? I’ve got two this week to study for. I should be free on Friday night.”

He enthusiastically nods. “Sounds good to me.”

2:57 PM [Me]: I’m done with all my midterms! Are you free tonight?

2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Free as a bird :D 2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Also congrats on being done 2:59 PM [Me]: I hate you

3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: So chicken dinner? The restaurant next to the pizza place just opened 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: I heard it’s really clucking good 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: A hen out of hen

3:01 PM [Me]: I might actually kill you during our date

3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Don’t you mean 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: [flock_of_crows.jpg] 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Murder :D

3:05 PM [Jisung Bio]: I’ll see you at 6? 3:05 PM [Me]: See you then

You do not end up murdering Jisung on your date, though you do come pretty close after you audibly ask the ground to swallow you up when he compliments your egg-cellent outfit.

“Swallow?” he slyly says. “Like the bird?”

Instead of committing a crime, you kiss him on the cheek, effectively silencing him. You’ve been waiting to do both those things for some time now, and look at you now, killing two birds with one stone.

Jisung turns a delightful shade of pink and mutters something about needing to get to the restaurant before it gets too crowded. All of his bluster from just five seconds ago is gone. You merrily follow him down the pavement, feeling a little bit like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Yes, you did search up bird expressions beforehand. Jisung will be Jisung, and like you told him before, toucan play at this game. You will not spend your first date with him being humiliated by his large repertoire of puns. Besides, if he retaliates like you expect him to, you will have the perfect excuse to kiss him again.

See? No fowl play at all.

Then he takes your hand into his, his warmth enveloping yours, and everything suddenly isn’t fair again.

And based on his all-too-pleased grin, Jisung knows this as well.

~ ad.gray

[soobmint]

voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words

s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?

c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju​ @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper​ (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)

n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!

YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

 As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.

 “And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”

 You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”

 “I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”

 “We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”

 He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”

 “Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”

 “Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”

 You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”

 “Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”

 “How do you predict my love life will go, then?”

 He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”

 “Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”

 Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”

 You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”

 It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.

 In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.

 Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.

 Until his voice was gone.

 It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.

 Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.

 Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”

 You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”

 Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”

 You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.

 You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

 You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”

 “Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

 You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”

 Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”

 You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.

 You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.

 With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.

 “Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.

 You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.

 “Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”

 You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.

 “Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

 “Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”

 “I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.

 Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”

 “Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”

 Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.

 For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.

 “I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.

 You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”

 -

 PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

 The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.

 In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”

 “Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”

 “Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”

 “Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.

 You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”

 Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.

 “Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”

 You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”

 He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”

 You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

 It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.

 The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”

 “No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”

 You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.

 The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”

 Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.

 Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”

 “Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”

 You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”

 “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

 “Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”

 Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.

 When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.

 He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”

 Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”

 He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”

 “Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.

 You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”

 “I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”

 “I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”

 “Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.

 “Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.

 “Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

 Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.

 “We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”

 You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.

 After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”

 You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.

 Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.

 -

 OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

 The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.

 It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.

 For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.

 However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.

 You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.

 In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.

 You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.

 Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

 Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.

 “Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.

 “Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”

 He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.

 So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”

 “It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”

 “Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”

 “What?”

 He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”

 “You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.

 “Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”

 “Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”

 You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”

 He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”

 You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.

 “What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.

 “I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”

 “What’s wrong with that?”

 “Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”

 “Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”

 “I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”

 “I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”

 “You’re exaggerating.”

 “If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”

 You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?

 Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.

 You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.

 He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.

 -

 ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

 You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.

 “Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”

 “Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.

 Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”

 “I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.

 “They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.

 “Yeah, it’s fine—”

 “No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”

 You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand.  He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”

 You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.

 “We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”

 You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”

 You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”

 You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.

 “Where should we set them?” He asked.

 You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”

 The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.

 “In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.

 You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”

 He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”

 “Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

 You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.

 “No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”

 “What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.

 “The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.

 “Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”

 “What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”

 You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.

 “Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.

 It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”

 “I said, why do you hate me so much?”

 You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”

 He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”

 “That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.

 “Well, what’s the issue then?”

 “You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.

 “You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”

 Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.

 “I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”

 “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”

 “I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”

 You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”

 “How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”

 You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.

 “Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.

 He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”

 You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

 -

 THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

 Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.

 However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.

 Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.

 “You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”

 “No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”

 “What do you mean?”

 You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.

 “W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.

 “You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

 “Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”

 He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”

 You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”

 “It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.

 A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.

 Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”

 “Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”

 You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.

 “Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”

 “Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”

 “Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”

 “It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”

 You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.

 He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”

 Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.

 The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.

 “Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.

 You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.

 “Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

 “Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.

 “And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.

 What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.

 He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.

 “Should we run away?”

 Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.

 Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.

 “Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”

 With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”

 You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.

 “Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.

 “I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”

 You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.

 But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.

 -

 IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.

 With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.

 “In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

 You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.

 The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

 “Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.

 “Are you awake?”

 “Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.

 You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.

 You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.

 “How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

 “Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.

 “Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”

 He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”

 “I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.

 He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”

 “What did I say?”

 “Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”

 You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.

 “Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”

 He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”

 “Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just .  . . thought I heard someone.”

 “Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.

 You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”

 The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”

 “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

 “Do you . . . know what happened to him?”

 You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”

 “Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”

 “When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”

 “And you haven’t heard anything since then?”

 You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.

 “No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”

 Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”

 You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

 You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.

 “No. But I have someone I hope it is.”

 You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.

 “Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

 “Yep. No answer.”

 “Taehyun?”

 “Nothing.”

 “The professor?”

 “Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”

 You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”

 “Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

 You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”

 “Hey, we said we were starting over.”

 You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.

 “What are you doing?” You asked.

 He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”

 Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”

 He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.

 Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.

 If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.

 He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.

 “What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.

 “It was—”

 “It was real pretty, kid.”

 You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.

 “If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”

 Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”

 “Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.

 “What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”

 Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”

 “Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.

 You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.

 “See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.

 You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.

 How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.

 But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.

 -

 WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.

 Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?

 You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.

 You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

 When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.

 “How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.

 “First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”

 “Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.

 After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.

 “Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.

 “Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”

 “That does not make me feel any better.”

 “Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

 You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.

 “Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”

 “Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.

 “Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.

 You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”

 “You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

 It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.

 “Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.

 You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”

 For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.

 “Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.

 “Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

 “Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”

 You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.

 “What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.

 He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

 “My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”

 He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.

 “I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”

 “Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.

 “It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”

 “No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”

 He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.

 “Y/N.”

 “Hm?”

 “Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”

 Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.

 “I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”

 Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.

 He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.

 “What makes you think I’m not being serious?”

 His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.

 He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.

 The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.

 At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.

 You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”

 You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.

 “It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”

 The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.

 “Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

 -

 IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.

 You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.

 Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.

 The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.

 Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

 “Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.

 “Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”

 Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”

 You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.

 You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.

 “Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.

 “No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”

 You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”

 “How about Beomgyu?”

 Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.

“When did you get there?” You asked.

 “A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”

 “It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”

 You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.

 “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”

 “I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”

 You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”

 He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.

 “What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”

 “There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”

 Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”

 You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.

 The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.

 You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.

 By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”

 “Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”

 “Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”

 “Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.

 You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”

 It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”

 There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.

 “I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”

 You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”

 You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.

 The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.

 “Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

 You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”

 “That won’t be necessary.”

 You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.

 “Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”

 “I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”

 He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

 He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.

 “Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.

 Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.

 Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.

 “Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”

 He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.

 “I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

 “Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”

 You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.

 “I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

 You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?

 The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.

 “In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

 Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.

 “Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

 You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.

 “Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”

 Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.

 It was your soulmates voice.

 You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.

 But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.

 You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.

 “Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”

 With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.

 You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.

 Beomgyu was your soulmate.

 Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

 Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.

 “I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.

 You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.

 “Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

 “Y/N!”

 Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.

 “Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.

 You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”

 “Knew what?”

 “That you’re my soulmate.”

 He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.

 “So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”

 You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”

 “No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”

 He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.

 “I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.

 You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”

 The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.

 The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.

 “Should we run away?” He asked.

 This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.

[yolkyeomie]

Humanity of the Inhuman | Kim Sunwoo

summary — legends are meant for the wild fantasies of the dream world, but when one myth suddenly comes true, you find yourself tangled within its webs of reality.

word count — 4.8k words

pairing — sunwoo x female!reader (ft. x juyeon)

genre — college au, gumiho au

disclaimer — !! light mentions of death, blood, and injury !! this was supposed to be only three parts but because I’m tired I have to put the rest into a part 4 🙂☝🏽

part I | part II | part III | part IV?

I.

It’s been a week since you last saw Sunwoo in your house, and don’t worry it’s for a good reason. The gumiho didn’t just up and leave all of a sudden, he was a little too true to his word when it came to the nine tailed fox honor code.

He was simply doing what he set out to do in the first place: prove that Juyeon was a gumiho out to get you. Though seeing as it’s taken a week so far, there wasn’t a lot of information he was gathering.

It would get a little odd when you would walk into the mythology class the two of you shared and there was Sunwoo sitting in the very back. He wasn’t as close to the point where it would be suspicious but it was close enough to keep an eye on Juyeon. The awkward part was that sometimes you’d feel like the gumiho’s eyes were burning into the back of your head as well.

And yet despite his hard stare, Juyeon didn’t seem to notice at all. The first two days of Sunwoo spying on the two of you was uncomfortable but thanks to the boy’s kind nature, it was as if the gumiho’s presence disappeared completely.

You didn’t even hear the fox bead most of the time and that was your sure fire way of figuring out whether he was truly there or not.

“You wanna be partners?” Juyeon asked, closing the notebook in his hands and the class began to disperse around the two of you. “For the project I mean! Do you wanna be partners for… the project…?”

You thought about it for a moment, you always had a habit of just doing projects on your own ever since you were a child. While yes doing a project with a partner would make it easier and not as heavy of a load on you, you couldn’t stand working with others. There was always someone who decided to be the freeloader yet still got all the markers for the work. Plus, it was just faster to do it on your own.

But Juyeon is a good person, he’s been your class friend since you first stepped in the class. There was no reason for you not to believe he was a bad worker. “Sure why not,” you shrugged, “It would probably lessen the workload on the both of us and I’m sure you’ve got other things to do outside of campus.”

“How’d you know that?” He asked rather quickly, turning to you with rather curious eyes.

“I don’t know, you just seem like a busybody and a sociable guy,” you replied, giving him a half smile as he finally started to grab all of your belongings. “People like you have large friend groups and millions of extracurricular activities to keep themselves occupied.”

“Now I wouldn’t say I’m a busybody,” he tried to counter, his mannerism similar to those of a puppy’s as he spoke, “but you’re right, I do like to hang out with lots of my friends. Being around people is just… so much better than being alone.”

At those words you take a quick glance over toward where Sunwoo sat, though the gumiho was long gone now. If Juyeon liked hanging around people more than being by himself, it must have made it incredibly hard for Sunwoo to follow him around without looking suspicious.

You could just see it now, the gumiho trying to look as ordinary as possible as he practically chased down Juyeon and his abnormally large friend group. The boy lived in the dorms too so there was no way that Sunwoo was getting him completely alone. You almost giggled at the thought of the gumiho struggling.

“So where do you want to meet so we can work on the project?” Juyeon piped up, steering the conversion back to the project. Though the boy sounded a little too excited to be talking about it. “There’s the cafeteria on campus, a pretty decent coffee shop that’s nearby… oh and our homes! You know, my dorm will always be open to you. And Hyunjae will be more than happy to clean up around the place for you as well.”

“How about we just meet at my apartment for now?” You offered, standing up from your seat and urging him to follow suit.

“Really? You want me to go over to your house? Just me alone?”

You nodded your head, a laugh escaping your mouth as you replied,”I mean, yeah? It’s just a project and I trust you enough to—“

“—hey,” the two of you turned your heads, unsure on who was interrupting your conversation in such a fashion. Sunwoo stood behind the two of you with an almost amused grin, playing with his near fluffy hair with one hand and the other shoved deep into the university sweatshirt he wore. You thought he had left already, he must have blended in almost perfectly with his surroundings. “Let me join your group for the project.”

“Huh?” Both of you responded, different levels of shock exposed on your faces. Though Juyeon was the one who kept talking, “I’m sorry, but this is a solo or partner project. You’ll have to find someone else, I don’t know if we are allowed a third…”

“Don’t worry about that,” Sunwoo assured them, giving Juyeon his signature mischievous smile. You think this is the first time that the gumiho has personally interacted with the boy in public. “I’m sure the teacher will be fine with it, aren't I right?”

You both turned to look at your instructor at the front of the class, but the glint of amber yellow amber in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed to you. The teacher was attending to another student, but took a moment to look up and toward the trio that was staring back at him. He smiled at the three of you before nodding his head, “he already asked about groups of three earlier, it’s fine with me! This whole class is either going solo or in pairs and he didn’t want to be alone so this can be a small exception to the rule.”

Juyeon nodded his head in understanding, turning to face Sunwoo again before giving him a compliant half smile. “Whatever authority says goes I guess. If Y/N is okay with it then…,” he glanced at you for a second and you nodded your head, not really wanting to hear the gumiho’s complaints later if you disagreed, “welcome to the group then. I’m Juyeon, by the way. You are…?”

“You can call me Sun,” he answered, replicating the same compliant expression Juyeon had as he introduced himself. “It’ll be a pleasure working with you.”

“If that’s all then I’ll be going now. I’ll call you about times to meet for the project,” Juyeon excused himself, turning to you with his kind gaze and giving you a proper goodbye before grabbing his belongings and making his trek out of the mythology class.

You watched him leave for a moment, making sure that the boy was out of the room completely before turning to the gumiho beside you. “So? A week of following him and he was just your normal human being wasn’t he? So now your next step is to invade his daily life to try and get dirt on him?”

“What I can say, he was a slimy guy to follow,” Sunwoo admitted, moving to sit on the table you had just used as a desk. “Not only am I doing this to keep my eye on him, but I’m also doing this because you willingly invited a gumiho to your house? Now you really need my protection.”

You rolled your eyes at his claims, beginning your own journey off the campus as you replied to Sunwoo, “I told you to prove to me that Juyeon was a gumiho and I still don’t have that information yet. Until you get solid evidence, I’m going to continue to trust him like I’ve done before I met you. Plus! He’s shown no red flags to me and I’m very good at catching red flags.”

“Red flags of human men maybe, but I’m telling you!” Sunwoo argued, following after you closely, “Juyeon is not of this mortal realm and nearly killed me.”

“If Juyeon nearly killed you, how did he not recognize you the moment you asked to be in our group?” You asked him, not only to antagonize the gumiho but because you had a genuine question on the matter.

“If I’m being honest,” Sunwoo thought to himself for a moment, “I don’t know. Just mentioning the sun part of my name should have at least triggered the fight in him, but he took it like a champ…”

“Maybe the gumiho that was chasing you and tried to kill you wasn’t Juyeon,” you suggested, stopping in your tracks and turning to him before he could give you his regular counterclaim, “maybe the gumiho that was following you was just using Juyeon’s appearance as a disguise? Can’t you guys shapeshift? It would make sense that the Juyeon you saw wasn’t the real one.”

Sunwoo only let out a deep sigh, not wanting to consider your words but the logic was a little too strong to just set aside. “That makes sense but… I just can’t agree. I know that Juyeon was the one who attacked me and is targeting you, I just have to find a way to prove it.”

II.

Why did you even offer your apartment to be the meeting place for the project? What type of rose tinted glasses were you hearing in order to make that type of decision?

Because of your horrible decision making, now you were sitting in your living room on the exact couch you nearly crumbled into when Sunwoo had kissed you not even a full week before except the gumiho wasn’t the one sitting next to you. It was Juyeon. Sunwoo was sitting on the floor in front of the two of you, his smug expression was enough to know the thoughts that were running through his head.

“Since the project is about gumihos, we can easily split this up into three parts,” the boy offered, unwillingly becoming the team leader since the unseen tension between you and Sunwoo had left you speechless, “one of us does the presentation, the other person finds images to add to the presentation, and then we split the research into two parts. I was thinking Y/N could do the presentation since you definitely have a better eye than me when it comes to decorating…”

You had practically cut out Juyeon’s voice in your head. You were a little guilty of doing so, but you couldn’t help it! Not when the gumiho’s mischievous stare was burning holes into your head and the memory of you and Sunwoo sharing an intimate moment on replay in your head. You can replay the situation almost scene by scene in your head actually, that’s how ingrained in your mind it was.

It just had been a very prevalent thought in your mind recently because Sunwoo was gone most of the time. But now he’s here, and so is Juyeon.

“I don’t think Y/N wants to do the presentation actually,” Sunwoo intervened, a foxish grin appearing on his face as he offered, ”I think she wants to do the research instead. It looks like she’s got some… things… on her mind.”

“What?” You quicked added, trying not to seem as disoriented as you actually were. “No— it’s fine. I can do the presentation. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Now that you mention it, Sun,” Juyeon nodded, a frown beginning to cross his features as he watched you, “Y/N… you do seem a little out of it.”

“Maybe we should do this another day… don’t we all want to be focused on our project so we can get a good grade? If someone is distracted, we might not do as well as we can do.” Sunwoo continued, lying straight through his teeth as he encouraged Juyeon’s kindness for you.

You wanted to stop him, you wanted to prove to both of them that you were perfectly okay, but that jingle of the fox bead within Sunwoo’s possession seemed to say otherwise. “Sure, let’s meet another day. How does the day after tomorrow sound? It’ll be right after class too.”

“I’m fine with that,” Juyeon agreed and Sunwoo only nodded in response. “I’ll text you the roles I think we should all have later so you can think about what you want to do in advance. Make sure you let Sun know too.”

You all exchanged goodbyes and wanted until Juyeon left first before sitting in complete silence. You were too ashamed of letting the past distract you and Sunwoo was simply enjoying the moment that he had created.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue to go and follow him,” the gumiho exclaimed, rising off the ground and stretching his limbs. “What a busy day today has been. This is the most I’ve done in a while now… maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable just living here—“

You stop him before he can walk past him, your nails threatening to dig into his skin while the other hand is hovering over the conspicuously placed talisman you own. You felt Sunwoo’s skin crawl as soon as he noticed it and gave you his most innocent smile and big baby doll eyes. “Something the matter?”

“Find out if Juyeon is a gumiho, quickly.” You hissed at him, hoping the very obvious threat was getting through that thick skull of his. “Because I don’t know if I could spend another minute on this couch with him in my house knowing damn well we kissed because of your need to be proven right.”

“What can I say!” The gumiho gleefully responded, leaning down towards you and whispering, “being a gumiho makes me a really good kisser. Of course you wouldn’t forget it so easily.”

Sunwoo yelped as you nearly punched him, slapping the talisman onto his cheek and letting go of him. You watched the nine tailed fox grovelled in pain on the ground, wanting to snatch the paper talisman off but not having the ability to touch it in the first place. “Say that again and next time everything in the house will be covered in a talisman!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry okay!” He begged, his true form struggling to tear itself out of his humanoid body. The talisman was doing its job trying to dispel and absorb the evil energy and Sunwoo was doing his best trying to keep himself from going into a withdrawal.

You couldn’t stand to watch him lay there in agony anymore. Sure it was funny for a few seconds since you got your revenge, but as time passed you noticed it was taking a lot more energy than you thought for him to keep himself stable. “Stay still for like two seconds okay? Even though that might be… a little hard for you but… whatever just— hold on!”

You drop to your knees in an instant and tear the talisman off like a bandaid, wincing on Sunwoo’s behalf as you watch him take the deepest breath he possibly could. The gumiho form of him seemed to dissipate almost immediately now that he has control over his power but it only made your mind wander.

If a small talisman months old could cause so much damage to him, you wondered how exactly he could go head to head with a gumiho of a nearly full fox bead. “You’re not like… hurt right? The talisman didn’t leave a scar or something because they looked like it hurt really badly.”

“I… really need that fox bead back.” He spoke in between breaths but that sentence gave you all the information you needed to know. The fox bead was probably the primary source of strength for gumihos, sure without it they were still dangerous but in a state like Sunwoo’s who said his was empty? You might have just reduced him to a killable state.

“I am… so sorry,” you apologized, taking the smallest step back as you watched Sunwoo get off of the ground. “If I knew you were that screwed without your original fox bead I would have never touched you with it. It’s my fault, seriously.”

The gumiho shook his head, “No, you’re fine, don’t worry. It’s the person with my fox bead we have to worry about. I don’t think I truly realized how badly of a situation we’re in right now. If I get proof that Juyeon is a gumiho and he catches me? There is no way you or me will get out of that situation alive.”

III.

And oddly enough, a week has gone by since that incident. No, not a week, a month actually.

You finished your project with Juyeon despite the fact that Sunwoo bailed at the last minute, and you've barely seen him since. He went charging after your mythology class friend to find his fox bead and gather the information you needed to prove his claims so he didn’t go far, it's just… been a moment since you’ve seen him.

You know for a fact that he’s still alive because every so often you’ll hear noises in your house while you're trying to sleep and hear the quite yet familiar tone of Sunwoo’s voice curse. But other than that? You don’t see him. Your life had gone back to normal as if you were never being hunted by a gumiho in the first place, as if you never met Sunwoo in the first place.

You did in fact get rid of that talisman though, just in case he came back and wasn’t watching his step.

“Maybe I just need to get out of the house,” you admitted to yourself, staring aimlessly at the ceiling of your room. “I don’t leave much anymore… Maybe Kevin wants to hang out or something?” You had to admit, you did not realize just how boring your life was outside of being associated with Sunwoo. Your days were nothing but wake up, go to class, come home, and repeat.

You reach for your phone amid the blankets folds, grumbling and mumbling to yourself only to grab a hold of it snatch it away from its prison. It was almost dead but that was your fault, you came in your room and immediately collapsed into the bedsheets without question. Where was your charger? Knowing yourself you probably left it in the living room without thinking, who would have known you were going to get up in the first place?

“It’s nearly midnight, Kevin is probably fast asleep by now,” you concluded, thinking about your words for a moment before a text appeared into your notification bar. “Oh, never mind.”

Though, it wasn’t the usual cryptic text you received from the boy. Actually it wasn’t Kevin at all, but it was Juyeon. The last time he had spoken to you over the phone first was when you blacked out after finding Sunwoo.

With your eyes glued to the bright white screen, you forced yourself out of the bed and practically leaped over to the living room to search for your charger with newfound energy. You reached over to flick the lights on but immediately backtracked when Juyeon started to call instead.

“Juyeon,” you start, trying to sound as normal as possible. “What brings you to my phone number tonight?”

“Can I be honest with you?” He questioned, his breaths sounding as though he was forcing them to be rhythmic and slow. You raise an eyebrow at his soft yet rather serious tone, this wasn’t a Juyeon you usually interacted with. “It’s… kinda important honestly.”

“Of course, we’re friends right? I mean… like class acquaintances… but friends nonetheless,” you agree and you might have mistaken his huff for a slightest scoff for a moment. You choose to point it out whether it was serious or not, “what's with that frustrated tone in your voice? Got an attitude or something?”

“No, no that’s not it,” he quickly countered, “it’s just that every time you say that we’re friends, you always have to mention the fact that we're just college friends. It’s a little bothersome sometimes.”

You raise a brow at his words, falling into the couch as you respond, “I mean… is that not what we are…?”

There was a pause on the other side of the phone and you patiently waited for the boy to give you a reply. Instead, he just jumped to the next topic. Typical conversation tactics of a man. “I have something for you and something to tell you, but it has to be done in person. It would feel right if it was over the phone. I was wondering if you would be free to come by the dorms sometime tomorrow?”

“That’s what you wanted to tell me in the middle of the night?” You teased, almost rolling your eyes at his decisions before answering him. “Sure, I don’t think I'll have any classes that afternoon so it should be fine.”

You could almost hear the smile on Juyeon’s face, “perfect! You have to come okay, no bailing out on me now. I’ll be waiting for you!”

You didn’t even bother answering him, slowly sitting up in your seat as goosebumps began to trail down your arms. “Y/N?” He questioned once he noticed your abnormal silence, “are you okay?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy didn’t even get another word out of his mouth before you hung up on him, staring out the window of your apartment and trying your best to withhold a scream that wanted to escape. There in the corner of your window stood a figure, glowing amber yellow eyes piercing through the glass and staring straight into your soul. Unfortunately for you, you knew that amber yellow tint a little too well from your mythology studies and first hand experience.

Now you were regretting throwing away that talisman.

Though the fear that crept up your throat like bile dissipated within a moment as the light jingle of bells rang in your ear. The fox bead must be nearby, if you can hear it ringing then that means the gumiho was in the area.

You did have to be careful though, just because you could hear the fox bead didn’t necessarily mean that it was Sunwoo. After all, you haven’t seen him for about a month now. Who knows what could have happened to him… but let’s not let dark thoughts cloud the mind, right?

“Sunwoo…?” You hesitated, inching ever so slowly toward the window. You had to be careful, just because you saw a pair of glowing eyes didn't necessarily mean it was the gumiho you had come to know.

The figure didn’t respond though, in fact it barely moved from its position at the window. You stopped in your tracks, ready to run to your room for safety, when it teetered to the side before falling out of the frame. A loud thud could be heard as they fell to the ground and you finally sprung out of your seat to check. Don’t worry though, you were still extremely cautious going about your next actions.

You cracked open the door just slightly, peering your eye through the crevice to scope out the area. You didn’t exactly give yourself enough room to look around though, just barely seeing the moon’s shine on the night sky.

You were just being cautious! What if you need a quick escape back into your house because a gumiho suddenly attacked? You did live alone after all, who were you going to call if you got into trouble? Definitely not the police. Would they even believe you if you said a nine tailed fox was trying to—

“You suck at being stealthy,” your body was pulled across the doorway as the door opened wide, not even giving you a chance to react before you found yourself outside of your apartment. You looked up with a nervous grin on your face to see Sunwoo towering over you. “I’m surprised you haven’t been taken in as a gumiho’s latest feast yet.”

“You’re back,” you stand up tall, completely disregarding the nine tailed fox’s statement to talk about something else. “Where have you been? I mean— I know where you’ve been, don't get me wrong. But you were gone for a month! Any longer and I think I would have forgotten about you completely.”

“I was doing my job was I not?” He smiled, though it wasn’t his usually mischievous grin plastered onto his face. In fact, he looked a little… strained.

The way he was leaning onto the door and holding it steady so he barely had to move a muscle wasn’t helping his case either. “Now I’m back to have a nice comfortable rest, I’ll probably leave again tomorrow though, you know… gotta catch the gumiho!”

“Hold still for me,” you demanded, reaching out for his shirt collar to inspect something .

Sunwoo swiftly dodged your hand, moving away like it was a bullet coming straight for him. “I said hold still.”

“Why? Do we have a problem or something?” The gumiho asked, grabbing a hold of your curious hand this time with his free hand as Sunwoo let out a shameless giggle. “Did you miss me that much? One month away and now you can’t get your hands off of me!”

“I’m not trying to be handsy,” you scowl, pushing the door with your foot and watching Sunwoo stumble about for the loss of his support before taking his shirt collar in your hand, “I can tell your bleeding through your shirt.”

He winced as the fabric skidded against his skin, revealing the very fresh and oozing red blood that was spilling out of scar on his neck. No, it would be undermining the damage if you simply called it a scar. It was more like a wound, a wound that was rich with fresh blood and scaling down from his neck down to his side… who knew how far down it went actually.

That was just one injury you had spotted, but there were probably countless scars and wounds that dotted his skin.

Each one seemed to be of such increasing severity that it was making you nauseous. “How long have you been like this?” You asked, letting go of his shirt to save yourself from a possible black out. You made sure to grab onto Sunwoo’s arm after, seeing as he barely had enough energy to actually stand on his own.

“You’ve been gone for a month, please don’t tell me you’ve been this badly injured for a month,” you demanded, “I know you’re this… this crazy mythical creature and what not but the severity of those wounds… it’s bad, Sunwoo, even worse than when I first found you. You need to go to a hospital.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” the boy tried to reassure you, “I’m a gumiho, remember? I’m going to heal much faster than a mortal ever could so there’s no need to go to a hospital—“

“Sunwoo! Look at yourself!” You practically screech, letting go of him and watching the gumiho cling into your door frame for support. “You are hurt, Sunwoo, heavily, from your neck down. Any sane person, mythical or not, would know that you need to get proper treatment and not rely on my poor first aid knowledge and your resortive abilities!”

“For the last time, Y/N, no means no. I’m not going, everything will heal if you just give me time.” Sunwoo begged, on the verge of throwing a fit like a child at your constant nagging. He leaned up against the doorframe and slid down it with his arms crossed, a pinch of annoyance struggling to stay hidden behind his attitude.

You have to physically hold yourself back from wrapping your hands around his neck and wringing him out like a wet towel. If his wounds didn’t end up killing him then surely you would end up being the gumiho’s demise. “Fine, can you at least tell me why you’re injured and when all of this… happened?”

Sunwoo glanced toward you, resting his head in his hands as he thought about your words for a moment. You can see the usual mischief in his eyes as he did, the audacity of the gumiho to think that he wasn’t going to share this crucial information with you is absurd. “I hope you’re not in love with Juyeon, Y/N,” he told you, his eyes shifting into that amber yellow tint, “because you’re about to get your heart broken.”

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to make of the gumiho’s words before it hit you. “Oh… you can’t be serious.”

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Thunder’s Getting Louder | Edmund Pevensie x Reader

Warnings: Fluffy

Time/Era: Modern/High School AU

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Y/N and Edmund are best friends until he comes over to help her with college applications. 

Request: Hello!! Im was wondering if you could write and Edmund x reader where they are best friends and one of them has tiktok and then they make the "kiss your best friend" 👉👈 I don't know if I explain it well hehe but if you need and example I can send it to you or if you really don't know what it is do as you please 😅

A/N: Thank you for the request :D I hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think :)

masterlist | narnia playlist | read on ao3

Being in your last year of school before University is a storm; the whirlwind of applications and tests, the rain of sadness when it comes to leaving your friends, and the thundering excitement of your heart. Y/N’s mind was constantly a hurricane of teenage emotion. 

While she may be the hurricane, her best friend, Edmund Pevensie, was the eye of the storm. No matter what Edmund was faced with, his mind seemed to always be clear and his actions were well thought out. Not only that, but he got early acceptance to his dream college and a weighty scholarship to aid his studies. Early acceptance meant very little stress on his mind and more time to enjoy his final year to it’s fullest. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Edmund asked, shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth. His long legs stretched under the lunch table and crossed at the ankles lazily. 

“Nothing, I’m just trying to read the text on this Tik Tok, it overlaps with the caption,” Y/N twiddled her thumb over the screen, trying to make out the message. Edmund laughs carelessly and snatches the phone out of his friend’s hand. He presses the power button with his thumb before places the iPhone facedown on the table. 

“Tik Tok is going to melt your brain, you know. Then there won’t be anything going on in there.” Y/N rolls her eyes and takes a bite from her sandwich. 

“Don’t look at me with that judge mental look in your eye, Pevensie! Maybe you should get addicted to the app like the rest of us!”

“I would but I’d like to keep my brain un-melted.” Edmund took another bite of his salad and a big gulp of his water. “I might need it for next year.” 

Y/N huffed playfully and rolled her eyes. “Ah, right, my bad. I forgot you’re some sort of super genius. Silly me!” Edmund leaned his elbows on the table and shot an amused look at Y/N. “A genius who has eaten a salad for lunch every day since he was 12.” 

“Hey! They’re good, thank you very much!” 

“Live a little, Ed. Eat some ice cream for a change! Download Tik Tok! Run around town naked! I don’t know!” Y/N threw her hands into the air 

Edmund choked on his lettuce, “I am NOT running around town naked!” 

“You’re missing the point!” 

“I don’t think there is a point, Y/N.” 

“Come on, people would eat you up! You have a cute face and girls love cute faces!” Edmund’s cheeks reddened considerably and he reached for his water again. 

“I don’t want them to eat me up, Y/N.” His voice came out as a squeak. 

“Why not? I’d personally love to watch your videos. I’d be your number one fan,” 

“You already are my number one fan,” Edmund smiled shyly towards Y/N. “Anyway, how’s the applications going?” 

Y/N groaned and piled up her trash. “Ugh, don’t even remind me. I have no idea what I’m supposed to write.” 

“I could come by yours after school to help if you want? Maybe that could help ease the storm inside your mind a little.” Edmund took Y/N’s trash and placed it with his own. A large smile graced her face and she nodded enthusiastically. 

“You always know exactly what to do to help, Ed. Thank you.”

Edmund beamed as the bell rang. 

~

You received a message 

You received a message

It was Y/N’s study hall period, so she was trying to get a jump start on her college essays. Y/N glanced at her phone before opening her notifications. One of her friends had sent her a video on Tik Tok.  

this reminds me of you and edmund. 

The video was of a pair of teens, probably a year or so younger than Y/N. The girl in the video was trying to teach the boy a dance while the song Electric Love was playing in the background. When the chorus starts, the girl cupped the boy’s cheek and pulled him in for a kiss. Y/N scrunched her eyebrows as she read over the caption: decided to try the kissing my best friend trend. now were dating #fyp 

Y/N watched the video for a second time. 

why is this me and edmund?

Y/N watched the video for a third time. 

you know why, Y/N. 

By this point, Y/N had watched the video so many times she practically had it memorized; she envied the girl in the video. How did she have so much courage to kiss her best friend? How would Edmund react if she did that? 

Y/N’s thumbed hovered over the sound icon; she needed to see more of these videos. As she clicked the sound, Y/N realized there were hundreds of videos of girls kissing their boy best friends. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek and scrolled, the hurricane in her head growing more intense. 

Horror stories of Edmund rejecting her or laughing in her face played through her mind. But, still, Y/N couldn’t stop scrolling until the final bell rang. 

~

“My brain is fried, Ed. Can we take a break?” Y/N looked up from her laptop and groaned. They had been working on her applications for nearly two hours and her eyes were beginning to sting from the harsh screen light. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. We’ve made a lot of progress,” Edmund smiled and sat next to Y/N on her bed. She glanced at his side profile and admired the curve of his jaw. It was so sharp and defined, Y/N couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to trail kisses up and down it. “What? Is there something on my face?” 

Y/N’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “No, I was just wondering what my chances of you saying yes to making a Tik Tok with me were.” 

“Slim to zero,” He responded, deadpanned. 

“Oh, so there’s a slim chance?” Y/N could feel her heart thumping in her chest. The thunder in her mind storm was so loud, she could have sworn Edmund could hear it. 

“Will it make you stop bugging me about that stupid app?” 

“Yes!” 

Edmund sighed, “Fine, just one. What do I have to do?” 

Y/N stood from her bed and gestured to the open floor space. “Just stand here. I’m, uh, gonna teach you a dance.” Y/N took a deep breath as she set up her phone, clicked the sound, and pressed play. 

Electric Love started playing through the speakers as Y/N began to dance lamely. Edmund, oblivious, started to copy her movements. Y/N’s heart was going a mile a minute and her legs shook under the harsh vibrations of the thunder. She still had a few seconds to chicken out if she wanted. 

Y/N turned towards Edmund and he had the cutest focused expression on his face. His eyebrows were scrunched in thought and his lips were pierced as he tried his best to mimic Y/N’s movements. She took a step closer to him, which he copied, and scanned his facial features. His pink lips were plump and slightly parted, his cheeks held a slight blush and his skin was smooth and perfect. 

Y/N took a final deep breath and pressed her lips to his. 

The music faded out of existence and the world grew blurry; the only sensation she could feel was Edmund’s chapped lips pressed against hers. The kiss was soft and contained, like a gentle rain shower, until his hands found her waist and everything accelerated. Lighting bolts of electricity flowed through their veins, making a single shiver travel down their spines. 

Y/N’s senses were flooded with nothing but Edmund; the familiar taste of coffee on his lips, the smell of mint, the soft material of his shirt, and way his hair ticked her forehead. No one but her and the boy she loved existed at that moment.

Edmund pulled away and looked down at her with his chocolate brown eyes. Y/N had never experienced that look in his eyes, and something about it made her want to experience it over and over. 

“It’s about time,” Edmund mutters, his thumb stroking the skin of Y/N’s waist. He dipped his head down again, catching her lips in another electric kiss. 

[ruewrites]

Building Home

AO3

WBT

Ship: Solomon/Asmodeus

Word Count: 2000

Warnings: None

A/N: I cannot begin to describe how happy I am to kick off Solodeus Week by bringing back WBT once again. I've been hella pumped since I saw college AU. (Do I project a little bit onto this AU? Oh definitely. No question.) But hey! I hope you guys enjoy! Comments are appreciated <3 Stay tuned for more content for Solodeus Week! (I did a combination of the two prompts for day 1)

Asmo plopped on top of one of the larger boxes taking up space in the small living room. This was temporary, just somewhere to stay for the next couple of years. It felt odd moving to such a tiny place after living in the big house he'd been in for years with his brothers. It seemed too quiet to him, even with neighbors just across the hall. He never thought he'd come to miss their noise, yet here he was. How were they doing? Did they miss him? Lucifer said he would always have a place to stay no matter where either of them ended up, but would he really? He wasn’t that far away from them, and yet hours felt like forever. Homesickness krept into his stomach, and just like on the car ride here, tears started to prick at his eyes.

He never imagined he could feel like this.

Excited to start his new life with Solomon, but sad to leave his old one behind.

The remaining rays of sunlight crept through the window and glinted off of his engagement ring. Creating tiny fireflies dancing across the walls of the room. Delicate fingers moved around the band, shifting it back and forth. He'd gotten used to playing with the ring, shifting it back and forth in his fingers and playing with the gemstone in the center.

A huff and a final box dropping to the floor brought Asmo's attention back to the doorway. Solomon brushed his hands off and smiled up at him before joining him. He pecked his lips so sweetly, brushing his thumb along his cheek catching a few of the tiny tears on his way.

"Welcome home."

"It feels more like a box kingdom or a warehouse to me," Asmo murmured, glancing over at the mountains of boxes spread over what would be their living space. This certainly didn't look like home, and Asmo wasn't sure when it would start feeling like it either. Especially since it was temporary in the grand scheme of things.

There was still so much to do.

Returning their rental first thing in the morning.

Unpacking all of their boxes.

Putting everything away.

Introducing themselves to the neighbors. What would their neighbors even think of them? A young couple moving in next door, engaged right out of their undergrad, unsure of what their future holds...

It would be at least a day or two before they got it all done, and the very idea made Asmo ache. There was so much more Asmo wanted to be doing with their time together before Solomon's coursework started up and before his internship really kicked off. They were both going to be so busy soon and the uncertainty that came with not entirely knowing what these new experiences would be like had his stomach churning.

And it was all so much for temporary.

"But it's our box kingdom."

"That doesn't make me feel better Solomon."

Solomon chuckled and kissed him before moving over to look at the boxes, "Well, maybe you'll feel a little better after a full night's rest. Do you remember which box we put our bedding in?"

A full night's rest. That was rich coming from his fiance who couldn't start a healthy sleep schedule to save his life. The only thing that ever made it better was the promise of Asmo being in bed to come cuddle up next to, and even that was debatable when finals week rolled around. The man lived on coffee and shots of espresso. Now that he was in a graduate program, Asmo would be working double time to make sure Solomon balanced school and everything else in his life in a healthy manner.

Asmo hopped off of the box he'd claimed and started to help going through the boxes. He'd had luck finding pans, lights, picture frames, but no bedding. Not even a blanket. Part of him worried they overlooked packing any, but the more rational side of him remembered how picky he'd been about buying a set. There was no way he forgot it. He would never, ever, forget something so essential to his sleep routine. But that would just be his luck wouldn’t it? He wasn’t feeling great and the universe wanted to make him feel even worse. Both he and Solomon stood over the final box, neither one making a move to open it.

"Solomon."

"Mhm?"

"If it's not in here I'm going to cry."

"Yeah-"

"That is a threat, not a promise."

"Oh I'm aware."

Solomon knelt down and started peeling off the tape keeping the moving box sealed. Asmo's heart raced with each passing moment. It had to be in there. It just had to be in there. Finally, the tape snapped back and the box popped open and fluffy pillows sprung forth, propelled by the blankets and comforters beneath.

Oh Asmo could have cried out in relief right there. The move had been stressful enough without the fear that they hadn't gotten everything. He took the soft sheets in his own hands and held them close. He would have a comfortable place to sleep tonight. He wouldn't have to pester his brothers to drop off bedding. His brothers wouldn't be able to make fun of him for forgetting bedding. That was the last thing he needed to add to the stresses of moving in.

But on the other hand, if he had forgotten them, he’d be able to see them.

Solomon tugged on the blanket before nudging up against Asmo’s shoulder. “You know… The living room is a lot closer than the bedroom,” he said, “Do you know what I’m thinking?”

Asmo chuckled and moved away from him, “I’m your fiance not a mind reader dearest.”

Solomon’s kisses were always wonderful no matter where he placed them. Warmth spread from his cheek throughout the rest of him as Solomon’s lips made contact with his skin. He felt some of his anxieties leave him right there. Oh how Asmo adored this man.

“Well,” Solomon’s arms came around him, his lips close to his ear, “I was thinking about when we were kids. How we always had the best sleepovers. We’d sneak snacks from the kitchen, stay up past our bedtime, watch movies we weren’t supposed to-”

He allowed the sentence to trail off, and when Asmo looked at him he saw the hopeful little glint in his eye. Their long history together was special, and their weekly sleepovers were no exception. It didn't matter the weather, who's house or what they planned on doing. As long as they were together, they were guaranteed to have the best of times. Asmo could leave him hanging. He could decide to not finish his train of thought and to pretend he didn’t remember. But he couldn’t be that cruel. So instead he pecked Solomon’s lips.

They were sappy.

But Asmo liked it that way.

“And we made the most amazing pillow forts,” he finished.

“Exactly.”

Asmo spun out from his arms so he could face him properly, “We have work to do and you want to procrastinate to build a fort? For shame my darling. For shame.”

He gave him what he wanted. Now he had to tease his fiance. It wasn't something to question. It was mandatory.

“And you’re saying that you don’t want to have a pillow fort and relive our fun childhood days Mr. Morningstar? Days when we didn’t have to worry about being adults or doing adult things?” Solomon followed after him for getting about the blanket and grabbing at his waist once more, “I don’t think you should be shaming me.”

"Being an adult isn't all that bad, we still get to play house," Asmo let his head rest against Solomon, coaxing him into swaying with him for a moment.

"Playing house never involved rent, or work, or real college classes."

"True," certain parts of adult life did suck, "But we can also do fun things like get married and move in together."

"And make pillow forts?"

Asmo smiled, "And make pillow forts. I suppose."

Even if it was full of boxes, this place was home. Well, that wasn't entirely true now was it? Home wasn't just any place he moved into. Home was wherever Solomon was. This place wouldn't be home if Solomon wasn't here. He was home, and Asmo would follow him anywhere. A house was empty without him and the bed would always be cold. He brought life and color into the rooms he walked in.

Solomon was comfort.

Solomon was belonging.

Solomon was the drive and encouragement that Asmo needed in his life.

"In that case, can we make a pillow fort before my classes start?"

Asmo tilted his head, as if thinking over the possibility. They did always have fun making them, even if they needed help from time to time.

The packed boxes did have one perk after all. They served as the pillars of their little kingdom, standing tall and proud above the couple. Pillows outlined their forms as their limbs were tangled together, blue light from their phones casting light shadows over their faces.

Solomon tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and Asmo leaned into his touch. "Isn't this fun?" Solomon's voice sent a shiver through him. His voice was warm and smooth, it was something that Asmo would never tire of, not for as long as he lived. "It's just you and me, in our own little kingdom."

Asmo nodded as he let out a soft hum in agreement.

This was comfortable. This was familiar. The soft beat of Solomon's heat lulled Asmo into security. It was gentle, consistent, and Asmo's guidance.

"Asmodeus," Solomon's grip tightened, "I promise, I'll do everything in my power to make this place home."

Asmo's hand moved up to Solomon's cheek and his thumb slowly moved along his milky skin. Solomon loved him. Solomon truly and honestly loved him. No conditions, no second thoughts. That love was all he needed.

He was afraid, he was unsure what the future would bring. He knew that their lives would keep changing and moving along, that they were still going wherever they were taken, but he did have Solomon.

Solomon, his wonderful fiance.

Solomon, his constant morning star.

Solomon, his meaning.

Solomon, his rock.

Solomon, the man who would do anything for him and have his back no matter what.

One day they would live together in a nice house, they'd both be successful, they wouldn't have to worry about what came next. But for now home brought him here, and home was staring back at him with big grey eyes. He was right where he belonged surrounded by boxes and a blanket shielding him from the world.

Perhaps Solomon had known how he’d been feeling, maybe he’d been trying to alleviate some of his hope sickness. Perhaps Solomon was feeling homesick himself. Even if he didn’t know, having Solomon around made him feel better. Yes he still missed his family dearly, but they promised to call and visit him. He would see them again. If anything, Lucifer would make sure they had another family gathering.

But now was his time to spread his wings.

Now was his time to start a branch on their family tree.

Now was his time to start building, expanding.

Even if Solomon didn’t know how he was feeling, Asmo still felt safe and at peace in his arms. Memories of popcorn and movie nights and small fairy lights flooding his senses. A worriless past became his present. Years of playing house were finally becoming a reality. Just like then he could share it all with Solomon. His other half, his completion, everything that made his little world good and beautiful.

He was going to be fine.

He was going to be safe.

He was going to be happy.’’

For the first time, Asmodeus learned a word he thought he already knew.

"Solomon, you are my home."

[snusbandxknifewife]

How We Got Here/Where We’re Going

Hello yes hi! I am proud to introduce my gift for the lovely and amazing Tess, @clockworkgraystairs ! This started out as a wedding fic, but I couldn’t get it to work right until I was giving @wanderingpages her regularly scheduled Mayari update and saw her asynchronous pregnancy au and was like “!!!!!Holy shit that’s it.” So, without much further ado, I present the beginning of “How We Got Here/Where We’re Going”, an all human, modern au where Cardan and Jude have been a thing since college, ended up getting pregnant and having a daughter and marrying in their late 20s. Now it’s their honeymoon and they’re looking backwards at their past and forward towards their future.

~~~~~~~

Outside, fluffy grey clouds hung over a soft blanket of snow, masking any sound that might’ve accompanied the rising of the sun. Her bed was soft, her sheets warm, her room quiet. Jude couldn’t quite figure out what woke her up. Then, as she stretched out, her fingers hungrily searching as she fought sleep, she realized what it was: Cardan was missing.

Sitting up, her eyes bleary and drool dried on her cheek, she pouted. When she remembered that she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on—and that, plus a snowy log cabin, makes for freezing nips—she grumbled and burrowed back into the comforter.

Oh to have been a fly on the wall in the little cabin bedroom as Jude Greenbriar tumbled around in her nest of blankets, dragging them with her to grab underwear and pajamas and socks and fighting to avoid any cold air as she dressed. Cussing and tripping as she went, Jude scowled into nothing and cursed her fiancé—

Wait. Husband. It’s husband now.

—she cursed her husband for abandoning her to the elements and taking his space heater of a body with him when he went.

Jude wrapped herself up in her ball of bedding and went out the door, now awake enough to listen for movement in the small cabin. A pot clanged from the downstairs kitchen and her husband yelped and she smirked.

That’s what you get, loser.

As Jude walked down the stairs, she couldn’t miss the chaos of the living room. Most of their suitcases were still packed up and set by the fireplace, their skis and snow jackets barely made it in the door, and their wedding clothes were strewn haphazardly across the sofa. She was honestly impressed that they’d made it inside the house.

Just as she made it to the bottom of the stairs and headed towards the sofa to run her hand over her wedding dress, she heard something that made her stop.

“—And how should I know? Honestly Nic I’m not even sure how to bring it up to her,” Cardan sighed from within the kitchen, bustling around like he was making breakfast. “I think it might be good for us. Still, with how everything went when we had Faye, I don’t want to pressure her.”

She couldn’t help but frown in concern as her mind flitted back through everything she could remember about their first daughter and her pregnancy. From the confusion of her missed period to the worry as they waited on the test to the way Cardan’s eyes had lit up when the Ob/Gyn told them they were having a little girl.

What on earth would Nicasia be talking to him about?

Jude tried to tell herself that it was obvious, Nicasia was only days away from popping, and her pregnancy had been a bit of a nightmare. Maybe she was just nervous? But, then again, why ask Cardan about giving birth? Jude had been the one who carried Faye and, far more importantly, Nicasia’s own wife, Taryn, had already had a child herself.

Completely ignoring the fact that calling a man away from his wife on his honeymoon was probably in poor taste, but she digressed.

She kept herself as still as possible, angling her head so she could hear better.

“Yes, I know that, Nic,” he let out a little frustrated laugh, and Jude could just picture the way he would be pinching the bridge of his nose. “But Faye will be starting school soon and that’ll be a circus in it of itself, never mind adding on the stress that this would.”

He went quiet again and Jude crept back towards the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t walk through the kitchen door and catch her spying.

“I know you and Taryn want the little man to have a friend, but you remember how tough it was for Jude our first go round.”

Oh.

Jude’s hand flew to her belly and she had to jump to catch the falling blankets before they made a sound and alerted her new husband.

So she wasn’t the only one who was getting suggestions about expanding the family.

It made sense, everyone had been talking to Jude about the idea as the wedding had gotten closer. Oriana had been completely starry eyed ever since Taryn’s firstborn, Rosemary, had graced them with her presence. In fact, their stepmother had barely batted an eyelash at Jude’s worries when she’d fallen pregnant during college, she was far too excited at the idea of another grand baby. Madoc had gotten past the shock and the disdain for Cardan enough to be hounding them for a grandson. Taryn thought having cousins the same age made for perfect best friends. It was a mess.

Sure, Nicasia being pregnant had bought them a little respite, but she could go into labor literally any minute, so there went that.

Jude rolled her eyes and began loudly making her way down the stairs again, giving her husband fair warning this time as she walked through the living room and towards the kitchen.

“Hold on, here she comes,” he whispered, low enough that he likely thought she couldn’t hear. Then, she hit the kitchen door with her mobile blanket fort and he spun around with a: “hey Hot Mama!”

“Stop calling me that, you dork,” she made a face, instantly regretting her decision not to sneak up and scare him.

He’s stood there by the stove, wearing nothing but his low-slung flannel pajama pants and grinning at her like an idiot as he leaned back against the counter. She refused to let her sneer fall, only growing more annoyed at how he could walk around half naked in such a freezing house.

“Huh?” He must’ve forgotten he was talking to Nicasia because he seemed surprised when she began speaking on the other end of the phone. “Oh, yeah, Jude’s finally awake. Y’know I kept her up last night, heyo.”

Jude let out a disgusted groan and he just started to laugh, giving her an exaggerated wink and thrusting his hips forward in a way that absolutely did not put butterflies in her stomach, thank you very much.

He tilted his head, listening to Nicasia for a moment before finally giving up. “Here I’ll put her on speaker.”

“Hey Nic!” Jude smiled, finally dropping her pretenses and walking over to give Cardan a big, blankety hug and morning kiss. “How did Faye do last night?”

“She was great! Didn’t get up until about seven this morning. Of course the little man already had me up, fuckin’ kid always sitting on my bladder,” Nicasia griped through the phone and Jude snorted. “I don’t know how you and Taryn both did this it sucks.”

“Yeah, but the payoff is really cute,” she shrugged, leaning her head against Cardan’s collarbone. “Especially when they have your nose or your eyes or they start saying how much they love their Mommy.”

“Is Rosemary ready for baby?” Cardan asked as he wrapped his arm around his blanket bundle of a wife.

“You know how she gets, she’s super attached to her moms. Well have to see once Taryn and I actually bring him home.”

“I’m sure she’ll be a great big sister, she’s always been wonderful to Faye,” Jude offered, smiling as her husband pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “She was very sweet when Faye was a baby.”

“She was three then. Seven-year-olds have much bigger personalities.” Nicasia sounded exhausted, more exhausted than a normal pregnant person would be and Jude worried at her lip.

While they hadn’t always been the closest, she and Nicasia had grown into a really solid friendship ever since the other woman had begun dating Jude’s sister, and she didn’t like to see her struggling. Nic had been a huge help in Jude’s own life and relationship, she’d been an amazing friend to Cardan, she didn’t deserve anything but the best, happiest transition to a family of four.

“Well she takes after her mother.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Jackass?” Nicasia laughed at Cardan, her voice sounding like the tension broke a little.

Jude opened her mouth to give some word of advice or make some statement about how sure she was that it would be ok, but got cut off by the sound of commotion on the other end of the phone.

“What? Oh, yes Faerie-Faye it’s Mommy and Daddy,” Nic said, sounding far away from the phone. “Of course you can darling, here you go.”

Jude’s heart swelled and tears unexpectedly pricked at the back of her eyes as their daughter fumbled with the phone. She felt guilty, having forgotten for a moment that they were on their honeymoon without Faye. It was their first trip alone since her birth, and they’d both been on pins and needles when they’d said goodbye to her at the reception hall last night.

“Mommy?” Faye’s voice, tiny and soft like the twinkling of a wind chime, came through the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey little elf! How are you? Mommy misses you so much,” she gushed, reaching out and taking the phone from her husband in a mindless attempt to feel physically closer to her daughter. “Have you been good for Aunty Taryn and Aunt Nicky?”

Jude listened attentively as her four-year-old prattled on about everything she’d done since she left the reception hall with her aunts and cousin last night. To hear her tell it, Faye had had a great time. While it made her happy, Jude also found herself a little sad at the idea that her baby girl was doing so well without mom.

“And Daddy, Aunt Nicky let me touch her tummy when baby cousin kicked!”

“Were you gentle, Princess?” Cardan asked. He always called their daughter Princess, had since the first moment he’d held her in his arms. “Remember what we’ve said about soft hands.”

“Yes Daddy I used soft hands and nice words!”

“That’s my girl,” he said, that proud grin he always got whenever Faye listened to them plastering itself across his face.

The phone fell away and they heard some distant talking before their daughter was back on.

“Ok Mommy and Daddy, Rosemary is awake and we’re playing Rome. I love you, bye-bye!”

And she was gone before either of them could say another word, likely dropping her Aunt’s phone on the floor, if history could serve as a teacher. Jude tried not to let it hurt too much, she knew how seriously Faye took Rome—her word for the pretend gladiator-style tournaments her and her cousin put on. On any other day she’d be slightly smug at how well her kid swung a sword, but today she was away from her daughter and it really sucked.

“Sorry about that, I’ll make sure she stays on longer tonight,” Nicasia promised before either of them said anything. “But you know gladiator is a serious time in our house.”

“Oh to be sure. My wife is raising a little killer.”

“Looks like it runs in the family,” she laughed back. “Listen I’ll let you to go do gross honeymoon shit. Love you both, I’ll let you know if baby boy makes an early appearance.”

“Love you too, tell Faye we love her,” Cardan said, taking his phone back when she ended the call.

And, just that quickly, the little cabin in the snow-laden forest was silent again. Jude in her mountain of covers looked up at her new husband, her pout from earlier back as she tried not to cry.

“Awe, don’t do that to me Mama Bear; you know she misses you,” he frowned, pulling her close and kissing her temple.

“She’s my baby Cardan,” Jude whined, her voice muffled against his chest. “When did Rome become more important than Mommy?”

He scoffed, gathering her and her extra padding and setting the whole pile atop the kitchen island. “Rome is not more important than Mommy, you know that.”

“Rome sure sounded more important than Mommy.”

He turned his back with a roll of his eyes, reaching for the coffee that he must’ve been brewing before she woke up. She stopped her pouting long enough to take in the sight: Cardan’s messy black hair, his low-slung pants, the blatantly obvious fingernail marks carved up his back from last night. It was certainly a sight for sore eyes; it’s not every day you can wake up to something like that when you’ve got a toddler in tow.

“When you’re done ogling, would you like a cup?” He looked over his shoulder quickly, catching her in the act. His eyes twinkled so bright and full of mischief she didn’t even feel bad about being caught, she just smirked at him as she nodded.

Jude looked outside and saw that the heavy grey clouds had given up the fight and large, fluffy snowflakes were falling, bathing the world in yet another layer of snow.

“I hope Nic doesn’t go into labor early, we may be stuck here if the snow doesn’t stop,” she observed, suddenly quiet as she took the cup from his outstretched hand and brought it to her face, soaking in the warmth.

Cardan followed her gaze as he leaned back against his own counter, sipping from her Mrs mug that Liliver had gotten her as a joke. He looked pleasantly tired, not wired like he’d been after an all nighter in college or exhausted the way he was when Faye’d had a bad night as an infant. He looked like he was fit to curl up in bed with a book and be lazy all day, content with his place in the world.

It was a good look on him.

“She told me earlier that her doctor said she was only at 1.5 centimeters, she should make it to her due date.”

“I didn’t.”

“Well you were full of surprises with Faye’s pregnancy,” he mock-glared at her and she chuckled into her drink, remembering the look on his face when she’d told him her water had broken in her final.

Then his words hit her and her smile fell as she remembered what she’d overheard him saying to Nicasia. Cardan, well tuned in to her body language after so many years, noticed instantly.

“What?”

What good is spying if you narc on yourself?

She sighed and stared into her mug, trying to figure out the words as he watched her, worried something was wrong. Then, finally, “I overheard you talking with Nic about my pregnancy with Faye.”

“How much did you hear?”

“Just the end, you talking about how tough it was, how you didn’t want to pressure me,” she admitted, continuing before he could respond. “I don’t want you to think you’re pressuring me I know we’ve talked about it and I—“

“Woah, woah, woah, calm it down Hot Mama let me explain,” he cut her off, taking her cup from her hands and setting it down in the counter so he could hold her. “That conversation wasn’t about the pregnancy, just the timing.”

“What?”

He sighed, his jaw working like it always does when he’s a little frustrated. “Nic called right after I got a text from my brother. I should’ve talked to you first but the timing just worked out weird.”

“From Balekin?” She crinkled her nose in a frown that she knew he found adorable. “What could he possibly want? He knows he literally missed our wedding, right? The wedding that was yesterday.”

She cursed herself internally as she saw his little wince. She shouldn’t have said it so harshly, it just pissed her off that the man who raised her husband would refuse to be there when they got married.

“No, from Dain,” Cardan said, stopping her thoughts right in their track. “It’s about the company. Rhyia is apparently sick of being CFO, wants a peace of the trust fund baby action like me.”

She couldn’t help but grind her teeth at that, remembering that glorious fight all those years ago at his family’s mansion when he’d announced their pregnancy.

“So what do you have to do with it?”

“Dain wants to keep it in the family,” he chewed at his bottom lip. “Remembers I was in for business and you were in for finance. Thinks we could make a go of it together.”

“Oh so now you’re family,” she laughed angrily, her blood already boiling again after four years of avoiding the subject. “You weren’t family when you were a defenseless kid and you weren’t family when we were pregnant and fucking panicking but now he needs something—“

She broke off with a huff, flexing her fists and aching for her punching bag back home in their basement. It really wouldn’t do getting this riled up, it hadn’t helped them before and it wouldn’t help them now.

“Cool it, Supervillain, I see that look in your eyes,” he chuckled, forcing his hands under the blankets so he could grab her by the hips.

“I’m not a supervillain,” she grumbled.

“You’re my supervillain,” he cooed back, leaning forward to press soft little butterfly kisses to her jawline. “My sexy little supervillain Hot Mama.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

She decided not to answer as he continued kissing down the line of her throat, his breath hot over her pulse and his lips soft against her chapped skin.

Jude couldn’t help the way she tilted her chin up, the little grin that graced her face as her eyes fluttered closed. She missed moments like these, times when they could be overly affectionate without having to worry about the baby seeing and yelling about how gross it was.

He pulled away and her eyes shot back open, ready to complain until she saw the look on his face. He was troubled, almost apprehensive.

“I was honestly thinking about agreeing,” he admitted before she could ask what was wrong.

Her brain short circuited for a moment, too distracted by his kisses to remember what they had been talking about. When she finally connected the dots, she frowned. “But you bought out of the company years ago, babe. Why go back to the headache?”

“A higher paying job,” he sighed, stepping away to run his hands through his messy hair and lean against the counter again. “I don’t like the idea of charging your sister more for my help, but I still want to make sure we have a secure future.”

“Baby, I know our finances. We are fine.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Even without my paycheck.”

“Still, I’d rather be safe. Plus Faye will be going to school next year and I’ll have all that extra time on my hands,” he looked away from her, chewing at the inside of his lip as he watched the snow fall. “We’d be able to really change how we live if we took this job. A better house, vacations, secure college fund for the kids.”

Jude studied Cardan, her eyes roving over his midnight black curls, down his ears—which used to be stretched—across the tattoo of her and Faye’s birthdates at his wrist, and she smiled. He’d changed so much since they first met, given up a lot of his more daring, self-destructive ways to provide for her and their family. He’d stepped up when she needed him to, he’d stepped up in a way that no man in his family ever did for him. She was proud.

“I thought kids is what you’d been discussing with Nic.”

His eyes shot back to her, but his head didn’t turn. She was quiet, almost nervous as she said it. They’d talked about maybe one day having more kids, mentioned it the same way one might say they wanted to hike the Appalachian trail some day.

But it had been so scary with Faye, so hard figuring out how to become parents, how to maintain their relationship and build a home, all while they were just barely adults. The pregnancy had been tough and full of shock, the family had been kind of a mess on both sides. It was just a disaster from the word go.

Still, Jude remembered how Cardan looked when he first saw that positive pregnancy test all those years ago. She remembered how he used to love waking up at night to feed the baby, called it his special Daddy-Daughter Time. She saw the way he still held one of Faye’s sonograms in his wallet every time she took her birth control.

“Did you now?” Cardan barely sounded like he was breathing.

She nodded. “I heard Nicasia giving you the same guilt trip Taryn gives me about cousins.”

“They do seem to think that baby boy should have a friend.” His face didn’t give anything away. He was, for the first time in years, so carefully blank around her.

“What do you think?”

The air, still frigid enough to keep Jude wrapped up in her nest, seemed charged with electricity as Cardan finally turned his head back to face his wife. If she’d gazed upon him with an untrained eye, she would’ve thought he looked like the picture of cruelty, an evil sneer pulling at his lips as he studied her through lidded eyes.

But Jude’s gaze wasn’t untrained, she knew her husband. And, so, she knew that the man in front of her was absolutely terrified as he said: “I think there might be some merit to the idea.”

He took a long sip of his coffee to hide his smile as Jude worried at her deformed ring finger.

“You?”

Well, here goes nothing

“I was thinking about stopping my birth control,” she quietly said, trying not to let her heart leap at the slight quirk of his brows. “Maybe not actively trying but, y’know, also not actively preventing.”

As soon as the words were out, she felt kind of panicked. Up until that point, everything they’d done—moving in after they got pregnant, getting engaged, marrying—had felt kind of inevitable. But having a second baby wasn’t necessarily a foregone conclusion. Talking about it felt nerve-wracking, like they were actually moving to make their family a reality.

“You want a kid with me?” Cardan sounded kind of awed, his jaw a little slack as he watched her.

“I have a kid with you, babe.”

“No,” he held a hand up. “No it was different with Faye. She wasn’t planned, she just happened and we figured out how to make it work.”

He set his drink down and once again crossed the distance between them, digging in to her cocoon as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Faye with all my heart, she’s the best thing that’s happened to me,” he continued. “But the idea that you’d be more than ok with, that you’d literally want a child with me—“

“Does it shock you?”

He let out a small laugh, shaking his head as if to clear it before gazing up at her with love in his eyes. “Yes, Jude Greenbriar. Yes it does.”

“Well it shouldn’t,” she snorted. “I carried a little you once before and she turned out pretty damn cute.”

“I think I’m going to need to hear you actually say it.”

She laughed, her head thrown back as the sound filled the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around Cardan and kissed his temple, holding him close and thanking the gods that they’d made it to that point.

“You need to hear me say what?” Jude teased, her grin contagious as Cardan looked up at her.

“Jude, my darling my dear, my sexy little Hot Mama,” he started, dutifully ignoring how she dramatically protested at the nickname, “I need to hear you say that you want to have my child.”

Jude leaned forward, taking in the soft, earthy scent of him with a mischievous smile.

“Cardan, my love my sweet, my amazing sexy husband,” she imitated him, tilting her head to drag her teeth across his jaw.

He leaned back, giving her the room to slide off the kitchen counter and into his arms. The blankets fell off her shoulders, exposing her to the cool air as she pressed herself against him, already feeling just how desperately he wanted her.

She let her hands wander the expanse of his chest, her fingers ghosting over his skin until she could reach around to the nail marks on his back. With a smile, she traced them, remembering how he’d earned those scrapes when he spread her legs open on the floor last night after they’d given up on making it to the couch.

Cardan grabbed her by the hip, sliding one of his knees between her thighs and locking his eyes with hers as he waited with bated breath for her to finish.

Jude, not one to deny herself a good time, let the strap of her pajama shirt fall off her shoulder as she bit her bottom lip, leaned forward, and whispered--

“Put a baby in me.”

~~~~~~~~

A/N: Ok so a few things, one the tumblr app wouldn’t let me copy and paste all the story on mobile so I had to retype some online so I’m sorry if the format fucked up. Also I have a bunch of ideas for these kids so if you want to see any more of this AU, feel free to send in requests! Happy holidays @clockworkgraystairs , I hope you enjoy cute Parent!Jurdan doing cute adult shit!

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @jurdanhell @thesirenwashere @illyrianwitchling @courtofjurdan @clockworkgraystairs @st00pid231 @booksandlewks @fateandluminary @addies-invisible-life If you want to be added, just let me know!

[bettertomorrows-ao3]

Souvenirs from Space

Ellie is off on a year long mission in space. JJ wants a souvenir. [ao3]

“I’ll bring you back a gift from space, but it’ll be a surprise instead. Is that okay?”

Tags: Astronaut Ellie, Astronaut AU, Family Time, Fluffy times, Cuteness overload Rating: General

WARNING: I am now a fluff writer, apparently. 

EllieDina Week // Day 7 // INFINITE

Name: Ellie Williams

Position: Mission Specialist

Duties: Survey effectiveness of vessel

Mission: Project Circinus

Duration: 392 days

Dina discreetly read the paper formally inviting Ellie on her first mission to space.

The news wasn’t sudden, of course. Ellie’s team had been petitioning for the trip for a decade, just a few years before they started dating. They always hoped for the best, but they weren’t expecting the world to catch wind of her wife’s passion project so soon.

It was on the third year of their marriage, when Ellie received word from her superiors that the President was personally interested in her project. They celebrated then, mostly shocked that Ellie’s project got picked up so quickly.

392 days is a long time to be separated from her wife, but Dina would be the first to reprimand herself if she ever stood in the way of Ellie’s dreams. They’d handled long distance before—that is if a three-hour drive counted as long-distance.

But that was a different time. Dina was in Dallas finishing her final semester at college, and Ellie was sent to Houston to start training camp at NASA. They saw each other on weekends and holidays, and it never really felt like they were separated at all.

This time is much more different. The trip to outer space is the most obvious contrast but explaining the distance and the location to their 7-year-old son was a different experience in itself.

So, Dina watches as Ellie and JJ lie down on the grass in their backyard. She’s sitting on a bench on the porch while her wife points out constellations to their little boy. The weather isn’t perfect for the occasion, but the scene is enough to warm Dina’s heart all the same.

“Are you going to disappear?” Dina hears JJ ask and finds herself laughing with Ellie.

“Nah, I’m just taking a big spaceship to visit the stars, Spud. Think of it like I’m going on vacation,” Ellie responds.

“Can you bring me one back?”

Dina sees the cheeky smile on Ellie’s face. She can tell how hard her wife is holding back her excitement to see their son so interested in her work.

“You want me to bring you back a star?” Ellie beams at their son.

When JJ eagerly nods, Dina is the first to burst out laughing.

She pictures Ellie hauling a giant rock after a year in space. Dina is sure that Ellie would be the first to jump at the chance to bring a souvenir back from her trip if she was given permission.

Bewildered by his mother’s amusement, JJ begins to fuss, misinterpreting his parents’ laughter for ridicule.

“I want the biggest star!” JJ stretches his arms wide to show the size of the gift he’s expecting.

With Ellie still winding down from laughter, Dina goes ahead and tries to explain themselves.

“JJ, honey, stars are giant rocks. Bigger than the Grand Canyon. I’m not sure your mom will be able to carry a star back home.”

Their son sulks into Ellie’s side, clearly unhappy with her answer. Dina’s heart breaks at the thought of having her two favourite people separated from each other.

“Tell you what,” Ellie gently coaxes him out to face her, “I’ll bring you back a gift from space, but it’ll be a surprise. Is that okay?”

Ellie’s words seem to do the job, and the surprise gift is all JJ talks about after her wife’s ship lifts off from the ground and into the stars.

*

It’s exactly 400 days from lift-off, when Ellie finally comes back home.

JJ is overjoyed and all Dina can feel is a strong sense of calming relief.

The same words repeat themselves in her mind: Ellie is safe. Ellie wife is home.

Getting their son to calm down was a challenge that night. His energy bounced off every room of the house, until it was time for him to go to bed. Much has happened over the past year, and as children’s thoughts quickly flit from one thing to another, JJ’s mind had forgotten about his request to get a souvenir from space.

He and Dina are in the master bedroom watching Ellie unpack her suitcase when JJ notices a gift-wrapped package poking out of the bag. JJ swiftly snatches the object and holds it up to Ellie.

“Is this for me?” he asks, eyes wide and twinkling.

“It’s your gift, bud. I promised you something from up there remember?” Ellie moves the suitcase off the bed and sits next to JJ.

Curious with the exchange, Dina sits up to peek at the object in their son’s hand. JJ immediately rips into the wrapper and holds up a small but empty mason jar, confusion replacing the smile on his face. He inspects the item before attempting to pry the lid open.

“Ah ah ah!” Ellie stops his hands from opening the lid, “you can’t ever open this container, bud.”

Dina’s brows furrow, but Ellie’s grin only widens when she sees the confusion on her wife’s face.

“What is it?” JJ asks, and Dina is glad at their son’s inquisitive nature. She wants to know what the empty jar is all about.

“I couldn’t bring you back a star, but I thought I’d give you something even cooler!” Ellie points at the little container, “this little thing? It has air from space inside it. That’s why you can’t open it because it’s special.”

“Air?”

“Yeah, Spud. There’s more of this up in space than there are stars,” Ellie explains, and JJ is quick to buy into the little gift he was given.

“How many more? Like, a lot a lot?” his little hands cradle the container, handling it with as much care as a child can muster.

“An infinite amount, dude. There’s so much of it that there’s no number to count. And the best part is,” there’s a lilt to her voice that makes JJ light up with delight, “you’re the only one on earth that gets a bit of it.”

The whole moment should be adorable, and Dina thinks it is. She’s amazed at the creativity behind Ellie’s gift, but an idea comes to her which makes the scene more comical than it looks.

*

It’s much later, when JJ is finally asleep in his room, and when Dina has shown Ellie just how much she’s missed her that the thought comes back.

They’re languidly swimming in the aftermath of their intimacy, but Dina needs to know something before they nod off.

“Babe, you still awake?” she mumbles.

“Hmm… a little bit?” Ellie responds, her voice sleepy but alert.

“I need to ask you something and you promise to give me an honest answer?” Dina feigns uncertainty and is content when her wife falls right into the trap.

Ellie stiffens in her arms, her eyes showing the tiniest bit of worry. Dina has to fight the smile threatening to expose her.

“You know you can ask me anything.”

“Did you give our son your space fart jar?”

“Oh my god!” Ellie relaxes and shakes the bed with her laughter.

“I knew it!” Dina teases.

“Of course, I didn’t!” Ellie exclaims, “I’m not stupid enough to keep methane gas in an enclosed container. That would just be reckless. Do you know the fire hazards that—"

Dina cuts her off with a kiss until she feels Ellie melt in her hold. Once certain that Ellie had forgotten her science-filled speech, Dina chimes in one last time, “space air, fart jar, same difference right?”

[whenimaunicorn]

Playing House Part 5.1

Vikings College AU, Dom/sub/Dom 

This fic is so far away from canon that it should be accessible to anyone that can imagine being in college and wanting to be submissive to two hot frat bros at the same time. Read from the beginning here

Ivar x Reader, Ubbe x Reader

In this installment: Ubbe is finally getting his turn with you! Hope this scene gets us all back in the mood, warnings for mention of choking kink, public sex

Previous scene

You’re definitely distracted the entire next day. It’s Friday, and you had plans to go shoe shopping with your friends. After that it was a flurry of pre-gaming and dressing up for a house party which was supposed to be a real rager. Prior to last night, these events had been things you had looked forward to. Now, it’s hard to focus on anything your friends have to say. You float from one pre-arranged plan to the next, all the while just dreaming of Ivar’s hands, and Ubbe’s eyes.

Things had changed last night, and yet they hadn’t. The arrangement in your apartment was still, essentially, what it had always been. It’s just that now you’re getting orgasms out of it. You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to feel about the two boys now, though. And you find it too hard to explain the situation to your friends, so you can’t even get their take on it. You’re sitting together on the big couch at this house party now, and you still can’t imagine just how to begin to talk about what happened last night. You shift in your seat as surreptitiously as you can, ass still sore. You’re not sure they would get it. No one else seems to share this submissive little kink you have. It would be a long fucking night, to get these girls to understand well enough to be there for you.

Your friend Lauren bumps your side and points toward the door. “Isn’t that your roommate?” You feel a slight rushing in your ears as you see the tall blonde frame of Ubbe Lothbrok shouldering his way into the place.

“He just graduated, yeah?” asks Sonya, who’s sitting on your other side.

“Mhm,” you nod quickly. Your limbs are tingling as you can’t help but think about where his hand had been the last time you saw him.

“He’s cute.” Sonya waits a beat. “He seeing anyone?”

You shake your head, faintly. He had made some kind of declaration of his intentions toward you last night, hadn’t he? And yet if you bring this up to the girls, you’d need to talk about Ivar, too, and there’d be so much to explain.

Lauren saves you. “What, Sonya, I thought you were into that guy Aethelred.”

She leans back, contrite. “I am. I just… Oh! I forgot to tell you! Last week I ran into him at the gym, and his form was all off on his deadlifts. He was about to really hurt himself. So I went over there…”

Sonya went on, telling yet another story about how easy it is for her to talk to boys, and how she has no problem telling other people what to do. Usually you love that about her, but today it’s just making it harder for you to imagine she could understand the nuances of your own situation.

Your eyes rush back to find Ubbe. He’s already staring at you, even as he pretends to be engaged with the short blonde girl that’s greeting him. Your hand freezes before you can wave him over. You don’t really want your friends to hear whatever he might have to say, given the dark look in his eyes. And you’re hesitant to expose him to Sonya’s current mood.

As he moves through the party, you keep meeting each others’ eyes. There’s no nod, no smile, no greeting or invitation of any kind. Something deeper than that kind of politeness is going on, and it fills you with a bubbling anticipation even as it glues you to your seat.

He disappears through the door to the balcony.

You had already been hopelessly distracted; now it’s impossible to be even sitting still, faking it and nodding along with your friends. Now one of the boys is actually here, and though you can’t see him right now you somehow feel him, a seething presence dragging your eyes over and over toward that balcony door. Your heart jumps every time another body walks through it, though it’s never him.

You don’t even make an excuse for yourself when you finally stand. Maybe your friends can guess what’s going on, maybe the don’t have a clue, but you’ll just have to tell them the whole story later. Not now. Now is the time to step out onto that balcony.

The night air is only a little bit cooler than the packed room inside. There’s a trio of people you don’t know standing right outside the door; you step forward and lean over the railing, pretending you just came out the check the view, get a little fresh air. There’s no one to your left, and to your right you can’t quite see past the group of students chattering excitedly. You catch them saying the word ‘refills,’ and then they’re pushing past you back into the loud party.

Ubbe’s leaning into the dim corner at the far end of the balcony. Whoever he had been talking to must have left him out here to finish his smoke. He doesn’t say anything at first, just takes another drag, the cherry blazing on his inhale with about the same heat that the sight of him makes you feel between your legs. “Hey.”

You turn your body toward him, still leaning on the railing, trying to look casual. “Hey.”

He reaches out to flick his ash over the edge, but doesn’t take his eyes off yours. “If I tell you to come here by me now, would you do it?”

You take a deep breath, already nervous about what might happen. It immediately feels like you’re back in the darkened living room, the last time he made this request. “Try it and find out.”

Ubbe sucks on his cigarette again, lip curling into a smirk that looks a little heavy, a little bitter. He looks down at the tip, mostly burned down, and tosses it into the alley below. Then his low voice rumbles the command at you. “Come here.”

You walk over slowly. You’re not dressed as sexy as a French Maid costume now, but the scoop-necked sleeveless top and pencil skirt you’re rocking tonight are pretty flattering. Ubbe’s eyes rove over you as you approach, like they did that morning he found you on your hands and knees in his kitchen. You stop when you’re just about within arm’s reach of him, leaning on your elbow against the balcony railing and waiting to see what he’ll do.

Ubbe steps away from the wall, moving in close. The only good word to describe what he’s doing is ‘looming,’ as he stands up way too straight, way too close to you.

You let out an involuntary, nervous laugh. He’s not saying anything so you let your gaze float off the edge of the balcony, exploring the entirely boring alley below. “Nice night out here.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day,” Ubbe counters.

Your eyes flash up to meet his. His face is a little ragged, a little wild.

“The way you looked, under that fluffy skirt.”

Two guys step out through the balcony door, the screen sliding loud in its track. Ubbe puts an arm around you, not really grabbing you, just reaching for the railing behind your body and shifting his weight to put himself between you and the other partygoers.

He drops his face closer to yours, making sure no one else can hear what he’s saying. “Do you know how hard it is to hide a hard-on in business slacks?” he asked, his voice just a little reproachful. “I could barely get up from my desk all day.”

Some sort of strangled, chortling noise comes out of your throat as your pussy explodes at that particular mental image. You lean back against the railing behind you.

Ubbe closes the small distance you created right away, caging you in with his hands squeezing the railing to either side of you. One of his legs brushes against your bare thigh. “You like that? Knowing what you did to me?”

You bite your lip, looking up at him shyly. “I don’t want to make you suffer…”

“You don’t?” Ubbe challenges, leaning in closer, bringing his mouth to your ear. His voice drops low and intimate. “I’m going to start touching you now. Unless that’s not okay.”

Ivar’s words ring in your ears. You can do whatever you like with Ubbe. I can tell that it excites you, to become a plaything for both of us. But only, only, when I am not around. You had better not let me catch you with his hands on you. The new rules of the game. One of the many wonderful yet confusing things you’d been mulling over all day. But it means that you don’t have to feel guilty about nodding right now, and breathing a little “yes” against Ubbe’s neck.

A warm and firm hand scoops against your lower back. It’s the kind of touch that might happen during any casual conversation, but this one feels anything but casual. “Speaking of suffering,” Ubbe rumbles, that hand traveling down over the curve of your ass, “I was surprised to see you sitting down when I walked in here. After what I saw last night, I thought for sure you’d be so sore you’d have to stay on your feet, all day long.”

“I couldn’t bear to put on underwear this morning,” you confess.

“Really.” He explores along your cheeks, confirming for himself there are no panty lines. The injuries hidden under the smooth skirt make you exquisitely sensitive to even this light touch. Your breathing speeds up, and you’re sure he can tell from the way you’re exhaling into his neck. “Mmmmm.” The appreciative sound vibrates the shell of your ear. “How does it feel now.”

“Better,” you whisper, a little self-conscious because there are still people out on this balcony with you. A quick glance shows they are paying no attention, however. “Still sensitive.”

Ubbe makes an interested noise at that, and starts pulling up the back of your skirt.

You draw in a slightly scandalized little breath, but you don’t stop him. He’s angled in such a way that no one in the party will be able to see what his hand is doing. His fingertips trace up the back of your thigh once he manages to slip under the hem of the tight skirt. The mild ache of your bruised flesh turns to a prickling even before his touch reaches you there.

“Your skin is still hot,” he observes. He’s tracing little circles on one cheek of your ass, and his lips dip to kiss the side of your neck. “Did you think about me too, today?” he murmurs into your skin between nips. “Or was I suffering alone.”

“I-I did,” you stutter, remembering the idle fantasies of what Ubbe would have done to you had you followed him back into his room last night. His finger is so close now, to the place where you had imagined him assaulting you.

“I hardly got any work done today,” he complains, and nips a bite at your earlobe that he then soothes with a swipe of his tongue. “Just the sight of your pussy, throbbing while you cum, could drive a man insane.”

You moan a little, a tiny sound next to his ear, and hope the other people on the balcony will just go away soon. Then you yelp, much louder, because Ubbe has decided to pinch you right on one of Ivar’s welts, at the fullest part of your ass.

“Sorry, sorry!” He’s laughing at your indignant sound, but you push him away from you anyway. He doesn’t back off very far, trapping your forearms against his chest as he keeps apologizing. “I couldn’t help it.”

The two dudes also hanging out on the balcony are definitely looking at you now. You stick your tongue out at them and then fix Ubbe with an exaggerated glare. “Not nice.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to be nice.”

The other guys on the balcony decide they’d rather be back inside the party.

You can’t think of anything clever to say. While you’re grasping for words your eyes drift down to Ubbe’s mouth, tempting lips framed in a close-cropped beard, and then you don’t need to say anything at all. He leans forward over your trapped arms and kisses you right there, bold as you please.

All awareness of your surroundings drops away. Ubbe’s kiss is firm and confident, and with just a few sucks worked against your lips as he’s already coaxing you to open up to his tongue. The grip of his hands spasms over your wrists, and he uses them to pull you in closer.

When the kiss breaks you stare up at him, watching triumph and curiosity light up his pale eyes. Then, with a playful growl, he tugs at your arms and whirls you around, so your back is against the exterior wall of the apartment. He captures your lips again, hungrier this time. Your head spins as you try to keep up, welcoming the crowd of his body against yours. Ubbe wants you bad. That much is apparent from the heavy drag of his caresses along the sides of your face, the way he can’t seem to make up his mind between tasting you and devouring you with his kisses.

“I’ve been waiting for you to be ready for this”—he cuts himself off in his need to nip at the corner of your jaw—“since Ivar first said the word ‘thrall.’” Ubbe’s teeth scrape down the column of your neck as he pins you into the wall with his hips. He’s panting against your skin, and winding his fingers into your hair. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, nuzzling behind your ear. “Sweet thing. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You draw in a shaky breath of your own. “I think I’m starting to get the idea.”

Ubbe rumbles a laugh into your throat, nipping at you again. “If you can make jokes about it, then no, you don’t have a clue.” He presses you harder into the bricks, his knee firm between your thighs. “I would fuck you right here if it was socially acceptable. Hell, even though it isn’t.” He starts pulling up the side of your skirt.

“Ubbe!”

“Fuck, yes,” he croons. “Love it when you call my name.” His hand slides up your skin, rooting under your skirt shamelessly. You stiffen and he slows. “Let me have just a little taste, while I’ve got you out here.”

You are just about burning up to be touched at this point. While you have no intention of climbing onto his cock out here on this very public balcony, it’s hard to see the harm in a little surreptitious finger play. Something that could be hidden quickly under the pretense of “making out” should anyone interrupt you. You make a yielding noise and relax your legs, angling your hips just a little closer for him.

With a pleased little growl Ubbe recaptures your lips, kissing you deeply as he angles his own hips back far enough to make room for his marauding hand. Something long and hard rubs on your left thigh. Your pencil skirt is so tight that he’s having a hard time getting his hand up high enough underneath it to reach the apex of your thighs. He’s also making the job harder on himself, because he’s started grinding his erection against your thigh, pinning that leg open wider and back against the wall.

You let him struggle to sort it out, enjoying the frenzied feel of his movements, the little grunts that seem equal part pleasure and irritation as he fights no one but himself to get to his prize. Even the slight sting of the way your welted ass is being ground against the brick wall is enhancing the experience, making you feel like a thing that’s been thoroughly used once and is under threat of being thoroughly used again.

When his fingers do finally press up against your pussy, you whimper into Ubbe’s hungry mouth. He pets it once, a curling slide along your outer lips, then presses between them with a twisting motion that has you crying out louder.

You squirm a little, and Ubbe’s other hand is at the top of your chest, holding you steady against the wall. His fingers find the path to your entrance wet and ready, and he slides them in and out slow, up to the knuckle and down again. You hum your pleasure into his kiss. His hand creeps higher on your neck, bridging your throat. It’s a gentle caress, but it makes you think about how amazing it would be if Ubbe were kinky enough to want to choke you.

He pushes your collarbones toward the wall again, while kissing you deeper and vocalizing his eagerness in another growl. You wonder if he even knows he’s teasing you with this pressure near your neck, or if it’s just a mindless side effect of his lust.

The stretch between your legs increases as Ubbe adds another finger. “I know you’re not sore here,” he teases, and thrusts in a little more roughly, “because despite all the abuse you went through last night, no one actually fucked you.”

You get a little defensive of Ivar. “How are you so sure?”

“Because I would have heard you, princess. You’re loud.”

You forgo any kind of response because the movement of Ubbe’s fingers is far more interesting than any conversation. Pleasure blooms up through your core, until it starts to cloud your good sense. You start moving to meet him, fucking yourself over his hand, no longer worried about appearing innocent to anyone that might step out onto this balcony.

But alas, with one particularly ambitious flourish of his fingers inside you, Ubbe withdraws his hand. Pulling his face back only a few inches from your own, he lifts his fingers to his mouth and sucks them deeply, letting you watch the pleasure light up his eyes at the taste of you.

You slump back into the wall, giving him your best pout. Ubbe grins smugly, then leans in to bite that puffed-out bottom lip.

“Y/N?”

The voice belongs to your friend Sonya. You turn your guilty head and see Lauren crowding behind her, both of them looking more than a little surprised at finding you in such a compromising position out here, crowded into the wall by your upperclassman roommate.

“We, uh,” Lauren says, her apology indicated only by her tone, “we want to go to this other party.” She flashes the screen of her phone vaguely toward you. “It’s kind of lame here.”

“Only for some of us, looks like,” Sonya observes, smiling a little lasciviously at you and Ubbe.

You stand up a little straighter, and Ubbe makes way. “Oh.”

You kind of stare at them for a second, waiting to see if they were saying goodbye or what.

“And you’re our DD.” Sonya might be glad for you and your chance to Get It out here, but she’s also not one who’s willing to let her own plans for the night be inconvenienced by a change in yours.

“Oh. Yeah.” You take a deep breath, running a hand over your cheek as you try to come down a little from this ridiculous high Ubbe was making you feel. You look up at him, apology already ready in your expression. “I guess I’m leaving, now.”

He looks over at your friends for all of one second, then his baby blues are locked back on you. “I’ll drive.”

 Now your friends are crammed into the back seat of Ubbe’s hot little sports car. They would have had more leg room in the back of your vehicle, but there’s no way he would choose to drive that old beater when his own car was right there. And your girls don’t seem to be complaining about showing up to the next party in a ride like this.

You’re in the much roomier front seat, sitting on one hip so you can keep up a conversation with your girls in the back. And maybe also so that you can have an easy excuse to keep looking across at Ubbe. It’s kind of sexy to watch a guy drive, and Ubbe definitely does it with a swagger. His left arm drapes over the top of the wheel, while his right works the stick-shift with precise, powerful little movements that ripple the little muscles in his forearms.

Ubbe keeps stealing glances at you, too. His eyes are heavy with promise; you get the impression of looking at a lion in a cage. One that knows the bars will give way soon, with soft flesh to sink his teeth into on the other side.

A vague anxiety about your friends and one of your crushes together in the same car has turned you suddenly into a chatterbox, though you’re barely cognizant of what you’re even saying. As you prattle on with the girls, Ubbe’s shooting you dark looks at every red light, driving your excitement ever higher.

His hand catches your eye, dropping deliberately to his lap, palm smoothing flat over the hardened length of himself trapped along one thigh inside his pants. The sight of it sends a shock through your belly. Just listening to you giggle, just watching you twist half out of your seat is enough to do that to him? Or is he imagining what he’s going to do to you once he gets his next chance.

The urge to reach over and touch it is almost overwhelming. But the girls would see, wouldn’t they. Ubbe’s fingers and thumb sculpt around the outline of his erection, knowing you’re watching, giving you the tiniest show of him stimulating himself before he scoops it up into a less restrictive angle toward the top of his pants. The light turns green. He shifts gears with his methodical little movements and drives on.

When he pulls up in front of the next house party you’d love to linger, just staring up at him, but your friends can’t get out of the back seat unless you hop out of the two-door car first. So you tear yourself away from Ubbe’s eyes and let them climb through.

Ubbe’s not getting out. Your friends look at you as your gaze flits from the car to them, and back to the car again. “You know what, actually I have to get up kind of early tomorrow,” you tell them. “Family brunch.”

The two of them nod, knowingly.

“You good to find another ride home tonight?”

Lauren loops her arm around Sonya’s. “Sure thing! But you are definitely calling us tomorrow. I can’t take the suspense much longer. You’ve got some stories to tell.”

“Tomorrow,” you agree, your cheeks already heating up. You still have no idea how you’d explain what’s going on in your apartment.

You watch them walk up to the noisy house, the subtle bump of the bass spilling out into a louder dance anthem when they open the door up and step inside. You’re almost nervous to get back into the car with Ubbe. Or maybe you’re just savoring the anticipation, of what will happen when you settle into the leather seat of his sports coupe and the two of you finally have something approximating real privacy together.

“You’re not going in,” Ubbe says, after you’ve closed the door.

“Neither are you,” you point out.

He reaches over and takes your hand. “I’m not going to find anything in there more exciting than what I already have.”

You giggle a little.

His fingers curl between your own, tugging with a playful little jerk to pull you closer to him. He leans in and kisses you, slow and deep and dizzying. He breaks the kiss with one last little suck on your lower lip, then catches your eye with a mischievous little twinkle. “So let’s go.” He brings your hand to his lap, pressing your palm into the iron firmness of his continued erection. He leaves it there and puts the car in gear, driving off toward home.

Part 5.2 Here!

Taglist is open: @walkxthexmoon​​   @swagmonstertoes @hanhanxx @perfectus-in-morte​​ @xxdearlybeloved​​@littledeadrottinghood @persephone-is-here-omg​​ @rekdreams247​​ @inforapound​​ @creepshowzombae​ @tomarisela​​ @vladsgirl@youbloodymadgenius​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings @trashqueenbitch​ @justlovelifeblog​ @earl-aive​ @supernaturalvikingwhore​ @equalstrashflavoredtrash​ @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen​ @ceridwenofwales​ @grungyblonde​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​ @hvittysmutanon​ @honestsycrets​ @wuxiesalt @thorins-queen-of-erebor​ @writingfromasgard​ @tootie-fruity​ @tgrrose​ @amy8220 @laketaj24​ @lordsexmachine​

[yourfavoriteagent]

Your Midnight Company Part 1

Hey! This is my first fic I hope you enjoy!

A cute and fluffy diner AU where you work at a diner down the street from the BAU, after a rough case a certain doctor comes in for some midnight company.

Warnings: none

Also found on AO3: here!

The graveyard shift at a diner in Quantico wasn’t quite as exciting as you had thought, and that’s saying something. The only people who came in were either mildly drunk college students looking for a place to pee or questionable looking strangers sitting at your tables for a few hours. It was a welcoming place in the day time from what you’ve heard, in fact it’s quite a popular joint while the sun’s out but unfortunately you don’t get to see that side of this place. You work most nights from 11pm to 5am, it’s the only job that fit with your extensive hours spent studying and in classes so you jumped at the opportunity no matter how unnerving it may be.

But tonight was a little different, not by much, you were still sing behind the counter in your uncomfortable barstool reading a book, you still had your steaming cup of coffee you made to perfection sitting in front of you, and it was still raining outside. When was it not really, it was October in Virginia you got your fair share of rainfall in the city. But this night was different still because a young man, older than you but still younger than middle age, walked in through the painted glass door ducking his head under his blazer to get out of the rain. He did not look up to you quite yet, he was wiping the water off his shoulders and book bag at his side. When he did you noticed the water droplets smeared on his glasses, the dampness of his hair showing the faint hint of some curls under the product, and the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.

“Good evening,” he smiles awkwardly slightly nodding his head to you.

“Hey, what can I get for you?” Your voice is calm and casual but your brain is not, just him looking at you with his innocent smile and Bambi eyes makes your heart melt a little.

“I’ll take a coffee, if you don’t mind. Rough day at work” He sighs and sits down at the bar opposite to you setting his book bag in the seat next to him, you can see the water dripping off him and his belongings. You don’t say anything, just turn and start making the espresso as normal, but you can feel his eyes against the back of your head the whole time. If it were any other man you probably would have been a bit freaked out, but there was something about him that made you understand and almost trust him. Was this some Ted Bunny ruse? What’s his game here? You silently thought you yourself as you pour the steaming liquid into one of your white mugs. When you turn back around he is holding your book thumbing through the pages of Emma absentmindedly as he reads the back cover.

“Here you go,” you say hesitantly, “Have you read it?”

He looks up at you then back down to book, “Oh, yes I had to read it for a class in college a few years back.” He smiled and set it down where it was, the bookmark was not an inch out of place.

“I can’t tell if I like it yet, I am only a few chapters in but so far it might be my favorite Austen yet.” You softly smile thinking about the complex stories and beautiful relationships you’ve read by her. “Would you like any cream with that?”

“I’ll take three scoops of sugar if you don’t mind.”

“Three scoops! My god boy you’ll be leaving here with diabetes.” He chuckles at that but still nudges his mug towards you as you reach for the sugar under the counter. “So what are you doing out this late?”

He stirs his coffee around and takes a sip, seemingly melting into the flavor, “I work down the street,” He says after a pause from his drink, “Saw you guys we’re still open thought I could use some coffee.”

“You came to the right place, we never close around here.” You go sit back on your stool perch across from him but don’t pick up your book quite yet. “Where do you work?” There was so much around here you couldn’t even begin to guess, the retro diner sat in the middle of a sea of high-rises and office buildings.

“I work for the FBI, the BAU more specifically.”

You’re taken aback by this. “Woah! That’s so cool, what do you do there?”

He smiles a bit at your interest, “I’m a profiler, we basically figure out who the killer is before we find him.”

“Well can I see some ID, agent?” You grin playfully and lean a bit over the counter. You weren’t normally this forward, especially with men, but there was something different about him. He pulled out his wallet and flipped open his ID sleeve showing you the photo of his from what looks like a few years ago. “Dr. Spencer Reid, huh?”

“Thats me,” He shrugs with a small smile, “and you are?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you reach out your hand over the counter which he takes, his grip is firm and his hands are huge, you can see the veins protruding from the toned muscles in his wrist and hand. This is the first time you really stopped to admire him. He took off his blazer when he came in leaving his button up and sweater with the sleeves pushed up a bit. His damp hair still clung slightly to his face showing you his fantastic jawline and cheekbones. You were overtaken by how handsome he was, so distracted by it it took you a minute to realize you had been holding his hand for just a moment too long. You quickly let go flashing him and awkward smile all of that pervious confidence dwindling. He didn’t seem to mind, simply took his hand back and took another drink of his coffee.

You cursed yourself for getting so caught up in this man you had just met. While you were internally crawling in a hole you didn’t even notice he was speaking to you.

“I’m sorry?” You say, snapping out of whatever strange trance you were in.

He laughs a bit, “I asked what you were studying, I’m guessing you go to one of the colleges around here based on your age and choice of reading material.” He nods to the books till face down on the counter.

“I’m an English major, over at University of Virginia. I’m writing my thesis on Jane Austen’s works and her cultural influence in the modern era.” You tell him. He’s halfway through his coffee at this point but he’s hasn’t taken his eyes off yours the whole time you’ve been talking. It shook you up a bit, having someone really look at you for the first time in as long as you can remember. Working the night shift at a diner the last thing people think of is you, they’re thinking about the stress of their day or the plans for the weekend. The last thing they want to consider is how the college student with her nose stuck in a book is doing. But he was different, he looked at you differently then the others, he looked with a certain fascination and care, it was refreshing.

“An English major, huh? I like that, you’re an author?” He asks finishing off the last of his drink.

“Ideally I suppose but I would also love to go into journalism, you know, get the nitty gritty of people’s lives and help others understand there is more to the world than than what they see. I just think people can be so self involved now a days, not that thats necessarily a bad thing, I just wish people could see from others point of view, I-“ You cut yourself off realizing you’re rambling at this stranger. “Sorry! Yeah, author is the goal.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he grins at you, “I think thats a noble goal, a side of the story you don’t hear much.” His eyes had brightened ever so slightly, maybe it was the lighting but you hoped not. He looked like the kind of boy you’d write up in one of your short stories, his brown hair now mostly dry and fluffy made you want to run your hands through it. His large hands wrapped around his coffee mug make you feel warm your mind raced with he idea of those hands touching you. It wasn’t anything like that, he made you crave the innocent touches, the slight brush to the hand when you walk, or him tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t quite figure out what it was about his but you were entranced.

It was insane how quickly time passed between the two of you, before you knew it had been 3 hours of you two discussing books and art. He recommended a few books to you, The Ship of Theseus caught your attention.

“Would you mind writing that down for me?” you ask handing him a pen and a napkin.

“Of course. How much do I owe you?”

“Your conversation is payment enough.”

He smiles taking the pen from your hand, you feel the warmth of his skin against yours. He writes on the napkin and stands from his seat grabbing his bag from the back of the chair. “It was lovely talking to you, Y/N. Thank you for turning my night around.” He says and turns around to the door. Looking back at you one last time before walking out into the heavy rain again.

Your heart finally slows a bit as you watch him hurry down the street, covering his head with his blazer. After clearing his mug you reach for the napkin with he book on it, it says “Book of Theseus by Doug Dorst. Love, your midnight company. (xxx)xxx-xxxx.” A smile breaks out on his face as you carefully fold the napkin into the pocket of your apron.

[pepethehobbit]

VDS College AU

Okay so first of all, Hi everybody. I have never written anything in my life before, at least not a fan fiction, so please be gentle with me. Also notice that English isn’t my first language, so if there are any mistakes I am sorry and I am asking you to please point them out to me. In general, any constructive criticism is welcomed.

I originally wanted to wait for vds week to post this but I finished it and I would really like your feedback and reactions. I am truly very nervous, I usually don’t put myself out there, so please be kind, yeah?

Now to the fic itself. It’s sort of a little cracky, but not really, I tried my best okay? I was inspired by a fic called “I have hella feelings for you” by MacksDramaticShenanigangs on AO3. It’s an evak fic and it’s really funny and angsty, it has it all, you should all go read it. She was inspired by one particular tumblr post which you can find here.

Okay anyway, enough from me, I hope you enjoy the story, I had certaintly had fun writing it and for my first try, I actually kind of like it. Apart from the title, please ignore the terrible title, I couldn’t come up with anything else.

Speechless

It was Lucas first real day at the University of Antwerp and also the day he saw him for the first time. The week prior had been solely for orientation and no real courses had started. It was just a way to show the freshmen how the Uni works and a chance for getting to know your fellow students. The group he was sorted into was full of other art students like him. There was one student though who he clicked with immediately. He had platinum white hair and always wore, as far as Lucas could tell, a black leather jacket and chunky Dr. Martens. Lucas and Sander discovered that they share a portraits class together and decided to meet in front of the building before classes would start.  

So that’s where Lucas found himself right now, in front of the art building, waiting for Sander with a coffee in his hand. He was feeling a mixture of excitement and regret. He was truly happy that he could finally begin his new life, to study what he loves and away from the controlling grasp of his father’s hand. But did he really have to pick his first class on a Monday at 8 o’clock in the fucking morning? His thoughts went back to his friends back in Utrecht and he decided to text them about his poor life choices, throwing in a miss u guys for good measure. Obviously there was no immediate response, as they probably were a bit smarter than to take 8 am classes. When he looked up from his phone he was greeted with the sight of Sander jogging up to him.

“Hey Lucas, I am so sorry I’m late. Did you wait here long? I’m sorry but Robbe was being his extra cuddly self this morning.” said Sander in a way of explaining that made Lucas think he was supposed to understand.  

Lucas was a bit confused by this statement as he had no clue who Robbe is. “No worries, I only got here 5 minutes ago. But let’s go inside, I don’t want to sit in the first row.”  

They found some free seats at the back of the classroom and while they were sitting down Lucas asked who Robbe is.

“Oh, yeah sorry, of course you wouldn't know. Robbe is my boyfriend, we just moved in together. Everything is still a bit stressful with unpacking and we are waiting for the kitchen to arrive, so he needed some morning cuddles.” While Sander was talking Lucas noticed how his voice filled with excitement and how his smile got considerably wider as he talked about his boyfriend.  

Lucas was kind of jealous. Not of Robbe of course. But he wished for that kind of intimacy and love in his life. He knew he was gay and there were a few hook ups here and there back in Utrecht but never anything serious and always hidden from the outside world. His friends and his mum knew but he wants to have a person that would make him happy and that he could show off with pride. He doesn’t want to hide anymore.

“The kitchen should be there by Wednesday, and we are planning on throwing a housewarming party on Friday. You should come. I’ll introduce you to Robbe, I’m sure you guys will get along great, I can feel it.” Sander was grinning as he said it and Lucas easily agreed.  

“Yeah sure, I would love to come. I’ve never been to a housewarming party, anything I should bring?” Before Sander could answer the professor walked in and the class started. Sander whispered: “We’ll talk later.”  

The next one and a half hours were filled with mostly boring organizational stuff and one homework assignment. The professor wanted to have an overview of his students’ skills. After class Sander had to rush to his next course and yelled over his shoulder as he ran the other way that he will text Lucas the address for the party and that he looks forward to introducing him to Robbe.  

Lucas waved him goodbye and headed to the campus cafeteria, he didn’t have time for breakfast this morning and just bought a quick coffee to feel more awake. On his way there a group of three boys caught his attention. Actually it would have been hard to overlook them as they were laughing loudly and gesturing wildly with their skateboards in their hands.

But one of them in particular made Lucas steal a second glance. He was tall, maybe even taller than Lucas, brown eyes, a jawline that could cut glass, a smile that made Lucas’s inside fill with butterflies and dark brown hair that looked so soft and fluffy that Lucas had the sudden urge to go over there and pull his hands through it.He wore a red sweater that looked like it experienced a lot of love throughout the years and loose hanging jeans.

Lucas stopped dead in his tracks as he stared at the beautiful stranger. He only vaguely noticed the other boys, one with blonde curly hair and the other with a red and black striped jacket. The boys continued talking and it looked like they were trying to convince Hot Guy to do something. He was vehemently shaking is head while laughing as the others were nodding their heads enthusiastically and making a look around you motion with their arms.  

Lucas noticed that he was still staring at Hot Guy and quickly snapped out of it, he didn’t want to be creepy. And he had places to be and was actually really hungry now. One last look at the boy with the most beautiful and kind looking eyes Lucas has ever seen and he would be on his way.  

Only now Lucas was directly looking into them. An expression came across Hot Guy’s face that looked pleasantly surprised and caught off guard at the same time. Hot Guy held his gaze for what felt like forever and Lucas knew he was doomed. He needed to get going or he would develop a useless crush on someone that was probably straight anyway. So he quickly looked away and continued down his path to the cafeteria trying to get those eyes out of his mind.  

He was nearly at the entrance when he felt someone tap on his shoulder. He turned around and was once again met with Hot Guy’s face. Only now up close he was even more beautiful than Lucas could have seen from afar. He didn’t know what to do as he kept staring up at him in shock. Turns out he actually is taller than Lucas, if only by a little bit.  

Before he had a chance to say anything though, Hot Guy just raised his hand in the universal sign of expecting a high five while lifting his eyebrows expectantly. Lucas was dumbfounded, stared at him for a while longer and then just raised his own hand to slap it against the strangers. Because what else are you supposed to do when the most beautiful boy you have ever seen just comes up to you and silently demands a high five.  

Lucas is still in shock but the moment he wants to pull his hand away Hot Guy links their fingers together, swings their now joined hands back and forth a few times and says:  

“Hi, I’m Jens. We’re dating now. Love you, babe!”  

Before Lucas had a chance to respond or to even fucking process what the hell just happened, Hot Guy winks at him, let’s go of his hand, puts his skateboard on the ground and skates back to the direction he came from.  

Lucas was speechless. Truly and utterly speechless. What the hell? He looked after Hot Guy, or Jens apparently, as he skated away so smoothly Lucas was a bit jealous of his skills. He turned a corner and Lucas couldn’t see him anymore. Still being in shock he began to shake himself out of his stupor. He started to laugh as he saw how ridiculous this whole situation was. A few faces turned his way while he just continued to silently shake his head in amusement and disbelief of what the hell just happened.  

He stood in front of the cafeteria a while longer still unable to process what that was until the growling of his stomach finally brought him back to reality. He went in, bought himself a croque and sat down near the window to look outside to the other students still mingling around the lawn. Another smile began to spread on his face as he began to recall the feeling of Jens holding his hand tightly in his own.  

This is ridiculous, Lucas thought. Don’t get attached, that was just a stupid joke, there is no way that Jens was actually interested in him. Still the situation made him smile and secretly there was a part of him that hoped he would see him again even if the rational part of his brain tried to drown out these thoughts. As he ate his croque Lucas was unable to stop smiling.

The following days were normal. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. He hadn’t seen Jens again and Lucas tried to forget the incident as well as he could. He had met with Sander once in a break between classes to eat lunch. As much as he tried to forget Jens, he found himself telling the story to Sander. He told him he saw him before he was approached by him and that he thought that he was beautiful. Sander smiled knowingly at him but didn’t say anything and let Lucas continue. Lucas finished with: “Well I know it was just a joke anyway and I know he wasn’t serious, how could he have been, he doesn’t know me.”

“That sounds like there should be a but somewhere.” Sander smirked at him. He has this expression as if he knew something Lucas didn’t.  

“No, there is no but. Sure, he was the most beautiful man I have ever seen, but it was a joke and I shouldn’t get my hopes up in ever seeing him again. This is a big campus with lots of students. I am sure he pulls stuff like this with a lot of other people.” Lucas tried hard not to sound jealous, because that would truly be a bit pathetic. Jealousy for hypothetical people? Get a grip, Lucas.  

“Well now I am just offended, what about me? I am clearly prettier than Jens.” Sander smiled teasingly at Lucas but something else caught his attention. “Wait, wait, wait, I didn’t say his name was Jens, Sander!” Lucas saw a flash of an “oh shit” expression cross Sander’s face and before Sander could say something back, Lucas nearly shouted in surprise: “You know Jens! Holy shit! How? Is he a friend of yours? Did he tell you about that already?” There were some more questions racing through his head right now but before he could utter them Sander stood up abruptly and mumbled an excuse of being late to meet with Robbe.  

“You can’t just drop a bomb like that and go Sander, who is he? I want to know him!” Lucas said in disbelief. But Sander was already on his way, at the exit he looked back at a still very much in shock Lucas and said: “I’ll text you the address for our party tomorrow. Who knows, maybe your mystery man will be there. Then you can ask him yourself.”  

And with that, Lucas was left speechless for the second time in just one week.  

His initial plan to forget about Jens turned out to be quite hard after Sander had accidentally revealed that he knew the person that had left him so amazed. With the connection to Sander, Lucas let himself hope that he would have a chance of getting to know Jens. The rational part of his brain told him that he shouldn’t go to that party, Jens will be there and Lucas will just embarrass himself in front of him with his obvious crush. But his heart told him to go and to take the chance. Even if Jens really was only joking and he wasn’t the least bit interested in Lucas, it was still a great opportunity to make new friends here in Antwerp and maybe even laugh with Jens about the whole situation. Without revealing Lucas giant crush of course.  

So, that’s how he found himself in front of an older looking apartment building looking for the doorbell of Driesen and Ijzermans being rather nervous. What if Jens was really there? Or worse, what if he wasn’t? He was just about to contemplate leaving when a girl with platinum blonde hair like Sander’s arrived at the door and asked: “Are you here for the housewarming party as well?” Lucas took that as his sign that he should just suck it up and give it a chance. He smiled at her and said: “Yes I am. I’m Lucas. I met Sander at orientation week and he invited me here.”

“Oh so you are an art student as well? I’m Zoe by the way.” She said it while she pressed the door bell and a few seconds later they were buzzed in. They held small talk in the elevator all the way up to the top floor. Zoe apparently was Robbe’s old roommate and they knew each other from school. She now also studies law at the University of Antwerp.  

When they arrived at the top floor the door to the flat was already open, signalling any visitors where the party was happening. They could hear the music and faint conversations from the hall. Zoe confidently entered the flat and was immediately greeted by a boy with brown, long, wavy hair, in clothes that were at least one size to big for him.  

“Robbe! It’s so nice to finally see you again, it’s been way to long.” Zoe exclaimed while she hugged him hello. Sander appeared behind Robbe and hugged Zoe as well once his boyfriend was done cuddling his old roommate. He noticed Lucas standing somewhat awkwardly at the side of the doorway and ushered him inside.  

“Hey Lucas, you came! I wasn’t sure if you really would after our last conversation.” At that Robbe looked a bit confused. Sander turned to him and just said with a certain conspirational and suggestive tone to his voice: “Robbe, that’s the Lucas, the one your best friend and I told you about.” At that Robbe’s confused expression turned into one of recognition and he hugged Lucas enthusiastically in greeting.  

“Oh Lucas, of course. I have heard so much about you.” Now it was Lucas turn to be confused, because he genuinely doesn’t have a clue as to why Robbe would be so excited to meet him. Also who is Robbe’s best friend, how does he know Lucas and why would he talk about him a lot? It doesn’t make any sense.  

He tried to shake himself out of his confusion, just greeted Robbe in return and told him that Sander basically never shuts up about him as well and that he feels like he knows him already. At the mention of Sander talking about Robbe, he just blushed and looked up into his boyfriends eyes. Sander leaned down and pressed a quick but firm kiss to Robbe’s lips and it seemed like Robbe needed a few seconds to come back to earth.

“Anyway, it’s really nice to finally have a face to put to that story. Make yourself comfortable, drink anything you want, beer is in the fridge and if you want to smoke we have balcony.” At the last part of the sentence Robbe wiggled his eyebrows suggestively making it clear that he did not talk about smoking cigarettes.  

Lucas laughed at that. “I do actually have some with me. I don’t trust you Belgians with something so precious as weed.”

As Robbe laughed Lucas noticed someone coming out of a room, stepping into the hall and he had to suck in a breath. It was him. Jens. Hot Guy. But not in his red sweater this time. He was dressed in a blue button down, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His rather loose hanging pants from the first time Lucas saw him were replaced with tighter black jeans and that just really wasn’t fair to Lucas. His hair though looked still as soft as Lucas remembered and he is again overcome with the urge to run his fingers through it.  

“Robbe, what is taking you so long? I thought we were gonna smoke.” Jens made his way over to them and Lucas tried to prepare himself as best as he could. But nothing could have prepared him for the glory that is Jens up close. He must have already drank a fair amount, his cheeks were flushed slightly red and when he saw Lucas he stopped dead in his tracks and swayed a little having to hold on onto the wall next to him.  

It seemed like Jens got his chill back rather quickly though. He threw his arms up around both Sander’s and Robbe’s shoulders, standing in the middle of them. He didn’t look at them but held Lucas gaze steady when he uttered the sentence that would leave Lucas speechless for the third time this week. All of these moments had something to do with Jens.  

“Robbe. Sander. Allow me to introduce you to my future boyfriend.”  

Lucas gaped at him, not really knowing what to say, while Sander and Robbe laughed at this ridiculous comment. But then Lucas saw an opportunity. Didn’t he say Jens and he were already dating? He looked up at Jens and tried to infuse his gaze with as much confidence and cheek as possible.  

“Future boyfriend? I thought we were already dating?” At that Jens’s smile grew wider and he stretched his hand towards Lucas and said: “I’m Jens.”  

Lucas smirked at him and took Jens’s hand in his for the second time this week. “I know. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t even know your name?”  

“Well, looks like our help is not needed here anymore. We’ll leave you to it.” Sander pulled Robbe and Zoe, who was still standing next to Lucas with an amused face, away from the doorway and further into the flat leaving Jens and Lucas alone in the hall, still holding each other’s hands.

They stared at each other for a few moments without saying anything. Lucas noticed that the blush was still present on Jens’ cheeks and a hoop earring that he hasn’t seen before, that somehow just made him even hotter. It was becoming a bit awkward just standing there, staring at each other but Lucas for the life of him did not want to stop. He scrambled his brain for something to say but was saved by Jens interrupting his thoughts.  

“I must say, you are at an unfair advantage. You are definitely the better boyfriend. I don’t even know your name.”  

Right, yeah. Lucas totally forgot to introduce himself. He felt like they knew each other already, it was really weird what Jens made him feel in these short interactions they had until now.  

“Well that’s just rude. You always go up to random boys, claim them as your boyfriend and forget to ask their names?” Lucas said instead of introducing himself. He had way too much fun with this situation. He was finally talking to Jens, he seems funny and if Lucas is reading the signs right he is even flirting with him a little bit.  

“You were not a random choice.” Jens mumbled under his breath and looked down at his hand. Lucas wasn’t quite sure if he heard that correctly.  

“What did you say?” Lucas asked but instead of answering Jens just pulled at his hand that he was still holding and led him into the flat. As he walked in front of Lucas with their joined hands he turned his head back over his shoulder to look at Lucas and asked: “Wanna smoke?”  

There really only was one simple answer to that question. “Sure” Lucas said with a grin on his face so wide it could split his face in half. Jens answering smile was just as wide and he pulled Lucas through the kitchen onto the balcony. Thankfully they were the only ones with this idea, as they were alone once again as they stepped into the cool night air. Lucas was not quite ready to share Jens yet. He wanted to get to know him more.  

“This is actually a little bit embarrassing, again. I didn’t bring any weed.” Jens looked at him sheepishly and Lucas had to laugh.  

“You invite me to smoke with you, without having anything on you? That was a great plan really, you really have thought this trough, haven’t you?”  

Jens tried to level him with a look that Lucas read as “I am not impressed” and Lucas just raised his eyebrows at him in return in a playfully mocking way.  

“Okay, yes, I admit, not one of my best moments. Maybe I just looked for an excuse to be alone with you some more, you are my boyfriend after all. I don’t like sharing you.” Lucas was truly baffled. How could Jens seem almost shy at one moment and then just say stuff like that with a confidence that Lucas wishes he had. Lucas just tried to keep up with the banter and not completely melt at the sight of Jens so close to him.  

“Oh you mean the boyfriend you still don’t know the name of?” Lucas said with a cheeky smile up at Jens.

“Because you won’t give it to me.” And that was just the perfect opportunity for Lucas to tease Jens even further.

“Woah, woah, woah, that’s moving a bit fast don’t you think? We haven’t even kissed yet.” Lucas can’t help the pleased smile as Jens is having a coughing fit and trying to control his breathing again. He didn’t know where his confidence was coming from but he liked that it seemed to have an effect on Jens. The blush that went away when they stepped onto the balcony is back at full force as he sputterd out incoherent sentences.

“That’s not what I… I just wanted… That came out so wrong! I mean not that I would mind if we did, you’re gorgeous. Oh god sorry I’m making you uncomfortable, you barely know me and I just…”  

Before Jens could continue though, Lucas decided to save him. “Jens, oh my god, shut up.” He laughed while he says it, took his hand in his again and introduced himself. “My name is Lucas. And I actually have some weed we could share. It’s better than your Belgian shit anyway.” Lucas got his already rolled joint out of his pocket, lit it up and took his first drag.  

At that, Jens seemed to return to his chill demeanour and relaxed his shoulders again. He huffed out a relieved laugh and said: “Come on, you probably haven’t even tried Belgian weed. Don’t knock it till you tried it. Next time, I’ll bring the weed. I promise.”  

“Next time?” Lucas couldn’t help but ask, as he really wanted to see Jens again after tonight. He handed the joint over to Jens and he didn’t make a great effort to avoid their fingers brushing over each other.  

Jens smiled at him in a way that can almost be described as fondly. He took a drag, exhaled the smoke, looked Lucas in the eye intently and said: “Yeah next time. You really expect to never see your boyfriend again?”  

Lucas laughed at that but it came out weak. He didn’t know if this is still just part of the joke for Jens or if there is a part of him that really wants to see Lucas again. He just had to ask.  

“Why did you do it?” He looked down at his hands, avoiding Jens’ gaze while he waited for the answer.He didn’t specify what he was talking about but Jens knew anyway.

“Honestly, it was a dare. My friends came up with it. I was supposed to go up to anyone, give them a high five and say that we are dating now and then just leave without saying anything else. I didn’t really wanna do it, but I thought the idea was funny.”  

Oh. Well, that definitely wasn’t the answer Lucas was hoping for. Part of him thought about this as well. That it was a prank would be the most logical explanation for it. But the other part of him had hoped that Jens did it because he was interested in Lucas.  

“Oh, okay.” Lucas didn’t know what else to say to that. He must have done a poor job of concealing the disappointment in his voice as Jens chuckled, lifted his finger to Lucas’ chin to make him look him into his eyes again. Lucas saw amusement there and maybe also a bit of hope.  

“But then I saw you.” Jens said in explanation as if this would clarify any of the insecurity in Lucas’ brain.  

“What do you mean?”  

“Well, I didn’t want to go up to just anyone and do what I did with you. I thought the idea was ridiculous and I would only embarrass myself. But then I saw you… and I don’t know. I wanted to talk to you. So I decided to suck it up and accepted the dare. It was just an excuse to hold your hand really.” Jens explained with a chuckle. He then looked into Lucas’ eyes with hope and an edge of vulnerability.

“Oh, okay.” This time it was not disappointment filling his voice but absolute wonder and amazement. He didn’t know what to say to Jens so he just continued to stare into those beautiful brown eyes. Jens’ hand was still under Lucas’ chin. When did their faces get so close? He saw how Jens’ gaze dropped down to Lucas lips and as if on instinct Lucas couldn’t help but pull them between his teeth to wet them. He inched his face closer to Jens, dropping his gaze to his mouth just as Jens looked up into his eyes again. The corner of Jens’ mouth curled up as he made the distance between their lips even smaller. Lucas could feel the other boy’s breath across his lips. They were only inches apart now and Lucas was desperate to know how those soft looking lips would feel on his own.  

The balcony door opened and two other boys Lucas didn’t know stepped on to it. Jens and he scrambled apart in shock and looked at each other sheepishly.  

“Hey, one of you have a lighter?” One of the boys asked. Lucas, glad for the distraction, gave his lighter to him so he could lit up his cigarette. He was still trying to process the intensity of the moment he and Jens just shared.

“Thanks, man. You planing on sharing this?” He asked with a smile and pointed to the joint still in Jens hand which wasn’t even lit anymore. Jens looked at Lucas for confirmation as it was his weed. Lucas just nodded and for the duration it took to smoke the rest of the joint he found himself trapped in awkward small talk with these two boys and Jens. He just wanted to be alone with Jens again and maybe finally find out what those lips feel like on his. But the moment was gone and Lucas couldn’t help but feel disappointed.  

When the boys stepped back inside, Jens and him followed them. But before Lucas could step back into the kitchen, Jens reached for his hand and linked their fingers together. Lucas looked up at him in surprise. Jens only shrugged with his shoulders and motioned for Lucas to follow him to the living room, where many people were already dancing.  

And so Lucas spend the rest of the evening dancing with Jens and talking to him and his friends on the couch when they needed a break. He found out that Jens is Robbe’s best friend and at that he leaned into Jens’ space and whispered in his ear: “So you talked to Robbe about me, huh?” Jens only blushed and pushed him away just to pull him close to his side again. He found out that Jens is studying music, has lived in Antwerp his whole life, that his baby sister is called Lotte and that he loves her a lot. He found out that Jens came out as bisexual in the last year of high school where he just kissed a boy in the middle of a party for everyone of his classmates to see. Everything he found out about Jens that evening made his crush on him grow even bigger. He wasn’t just the most beautiful boy he had ever seen, he was also funny, confident, loving and just the nicest person Lucas has ever met. During the evening they sat closer and closer together, Jens never let go of his hand and sometimes he would play with Lucas’ curls in a way that it seems he doesn’t even realize that he was doing it. Lucas loved these moments the most.  

When the party died down and it was time to leave, Jens insisted on walking Lucas home, even though it was only a fifteen minute walk.  

“You really don’t have to. I know the way.”  

“Do you though? You just moved here, I need to show you the way around the city.”  

And who was Lucas to say no to such an offer. The walk home was spend in comfortable silence. Here and there Jens pointed something out to Lucas, a great cafe at the corner or the best place for fries in the city. Lucas tried to remember these tips but it was currently hard for him to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of Jens’ hand in his.  

When they arrived at Lucas’ dorm building, Jens turned toward Lucas and just looked at him nervously.  

“I… I had a really great time tonight. God, that sounds so lame.” Lucas just laughed but before he could say anything in return Jens continued. “Okay just let me say this. I just… I just want you to know that… that it may have started as a joke, but I would really like to see you again and take you out on a real date. If that is something you would want, I mean. You don’t have to of course. I know I am not your boyfriend or anything, that was just a joke. And even if you were my boyfriend you are of course not forced to go anywhere with me and you don’t need to fee-”  

Lucas just couldn’t wait anymore. A rambling and nervous Jens is just about the most endearing thing Lucas has ever seen. He pushes himself on his tiptoes into Jens’ space and presses their lips together. His hands go up to Jens waist and stay there even when he pulls back. He looks up at Jens who still has his eyes closed and his mouth hangs open a little, as if he is waiting for another kiss.  

“I really want to see you again too.”

At that Jens opens his eyes, looks at Lucas in disbelief and awe, like he can’t believe his luck. He smiles and pull his bottom lip between his lips as he asks: “Yeah?”  

Lucas answering smile is just as dopey and wide and he can’t help but look at the way Jens bites his lips. He wants to kiss those lips again. “Yeah.” Lucas says with a definite and happy tone in his voice. He has never been more sure of anything in his life.  

“That’s really good. Not gonna lie, it would’ve really sucked for me if you didn’t want to see your boyfriend again.”  

Lucas laughed out loud and Jens looked at him in wonder. Lucas hands travelled from Jens’ waist up to his neck in an attempt to pull him in even closer. Jens came willingly and encircled Lucas’ back with his arms. This time it was Jens who closed the distance between them. He rested his forehead against Lucas’ and just breathed him in for a few seconds. The intensity of this moment threatening to overwhelm both of them, but then Jens leaned his head down to capture Lucas’ lips once more.  

As Jens’ lips glided smoothly across his own, as Jens hugged Lucas so tightly there wasn’t even an inch of space between them, as Jens let out a soft moan when Lucas bit his bottom lip gently, as Lucas was finally able to feel the soft curls of Jens’ hair between his fingers, that’s when Lucas decided that he would never want to stop kissing Jens.

[kisskissbanggang]

Au Pair

[WayV Mystery Member 👀 x Female Reader -- 6.1K Words/20Min. Read -- Fluffy Plot, Fluffy Smut -- NSFW, Living Abroad, Will-They-Won’t-They, Horrible Bosses, Impreg Kink, Tense Situations]

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When you first entered college, you never quite predicted you would end up on the other side of the world during your senior year, but here you were on a balmy summer day, grabbing your bags out of your ride from the airport. Your Uber had taken you down a driveway long enough to make you think you were miles away from the city, and now you were faced with the most laughably luxurious home you'd ever seen in person.

From what you understood, your interview with the Copelands had gone well for two big reasons: 1) they appreciated all the credentials and materials you'd masterfully prepared, and 2) you were American, which apparently reminded them of home. They were almost cheating the whole concept of having an au pair, because you certainly weren't going to be exchanging much culture in a home like theirs, aside from maybe class culture. They certainly had enough money to do whatever they wanted, which was baffling considering they could've just hired a professional nanny for their son rather than an au pair for the year.

Melissa Copeland stood at the threshold of this near-palace, angular and terrifying in her smart suit. You could practically feel a cool breeze emanating from her as you approached. She finally looked up from her phone, her purse hooked on the crook of her arm like she was about to leave.

"You're finally here. I was about to leave."

You quickly dropped your bags to offer a handshake. A firm, friendly, American handshake. She may as well have been handing off her keys to the valet for how much she even touched your extended hand.

"Mrs. Copeland, I'm so sor--"

"Melissa."

"Er, Melissa, I'm so sorry, my flight was delayed."

"I can see that. I'll make time for a quick tour. Come inside." She gestured to her personal assistant -- a mouse of a girl -- to notice your bags on the ground. She wordlessly lunged forward and grabbed them, then sprinted inside the house with them as gracefully as possible. You followed Melissa into the foyer.

"As I said, I'll make this quick," your new boss droned, "this is the foyer. You'll obviously be staying in the guest room closest to Carson's, which is up the grand staircase, at the end of the west hallway, ergo, yours is the second to last room down said hallway. The Master Suite is at the end of the east hallway. The kitchen is in the back, pool is outside, you can take one of the cars or request a driver from Brent's company if you need a ride anywhere. Not sure when Brent will be home; his business trip has been extended. Carson is at dance lessons right now, and will be back at 3 o'clock. If you need anything else explained, you can ask our head of household, Ai. She's somewhere doing something; she shouldn't be hard to find."

You hadn't left the room. You hadn't walked around the room. Really, Melissa had hardly moved at all while she'd spoken. You were on edge, suddenly wondering if you were in way over your head, only shaken out of your stress as a car rolled up outside the open front door behind you. Melissa casually strolled to the door, her "tour" apparently over as she stopped to regard you one last time. "I'm glad you're here --"

"I am, too, Melissa, you--"

"-- It'll be much easier to reinforce Carson's English with an American au pair. Not to mention all our friends didn't think to get an au pair for their kids. Just nannies. Now we're the only ones." She gave a shrugging smirk as she slipped out the door and into the waiting car. Her assistant scampered back through the foyer, hot on the trail as she quickly followed Melissa.

Then she was gone. You gazed, bewildered, around the giant foyer before making your way up the grand staircase. You peeked into Carson's room, noting how oddly sterile it all looked for a little boy. It looked as though it had been plucked out of an Ikea catalogue... Only not the children’s section. Rather, the room had the sensibility and furnishings of a shrunken design major.

"Lost?"

You whirled around, gasping in surprise as you were faced with a woman who was a good head or more shorter than you and easily your mother's age.

"Er, no," you stammered, "I was just taking a look. Are you Ai?"

The woman smiled warmly. "Come on, then," she nodded her head down the hallway, "I've brought some fresh towels for your en suite."

Ai had led you back down the hall and into the guest room -- easily three or four times the size of your last shoebox of a dorm, not even including the giant bathroom. She gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as you met Carson once he was dropped back off from dance lessons. A perfectly sweet little boy, Carson couldn't be older than five. He followed the two of you around as Ai showed you the rest of the house in greater detail. She, as well as the Copelands' personal chef, groundskeeper, and Melissa's personal assistant stayed in the staff quarters just off of the kitchen, but you had been deemed necessary to stay closer to Carson. You would be invited to family meals if it was ruled to be best for Carson, but otherwise you weren't needed after dinner time, except to occasionally put him to bed. Tonight you had decided to take dinner with Ai in the common area of the staff quarters.

You sat on the comfy couch in this infinitely cozier part of the house, watching as Ai made you both some dinner. "So," you smirked, "no personal chef for us, then?"

"Don't need one," Ai laughed, shrugging, "besides, it's what, Saturday? He usually gets dinner prepared and runs out of here for the night." She brought the food to the small dinner table as you walked over to join her.

She laid out some ground rules, or "unwritten rules" as she was cryptically saying. "I know it'll be tempting to ask Mrs. Copeland for her opinion on things,” she explained, “but don't. Get ahold of me or one of the others instead. Believe me, you're better off making a guess if you can't. Don't accept a drink from Mr. Copeland. You're young, and you're pretty, and you have a young body walking under that young brain of yours, so he'll try to be tricky eventually. You'll be tempted to get involved with their personal business, but don't. You will anyway, but try not to. We've all been there, we've all learned, but it still happens to everyone."

It only took you a few days of being restless in the giant home for you to begin feeling more confident in your new role. You accompanied Carson to see his various teachers and tutors, but you also began enriching his day-to-day life. First was a couple trips to different museums you wanted to visit, and then a zoo the next week. Carson began joining you as you explored the city, either holding your hand or sitting on your shoulders as you went shopping and eating together. Melissa and Brent were "homesick", so they insisted on mostly American food in the house. Well, that had to change. Carson particularly enjoyed hot pot or anything involving cheese. He helped you feel more curious, but also more alert. You'd only ever babysat a few times as a younger teenager, so you weren't used to the intense protective instincts you occasionally felt, even going so far as to scold an old woman who pinched his cheek one day while in a cafe.

Carson was more than excited to continue your adventures together, barely able to contain himself as you helped him shimmy into his swim trunks one day. The Copelands had a ludicrously beautiful pool, and it was a shame that its only use seemed to be as a tanning bed for Melissa. You walked through the dining room together to the open glass doors leading out to the backyard. You dramatically smacked yourself in the forehead. "Of course," you told Carson, "we did all this work to get ready and I forgot your floaties upstairs. Wait here, okay? I'll go get them."

You could've sworn you only got halfway up the stairs when you heard a soft splash from outside. The hair on the back of your neck rose as your heart firmly sank in your chest. Carson may be a smart kid, but a kid nonetheless. You sprinted downstairs, kicking off your sandals and your cover-up as you were suddenly overtaken, another person whipping past you and diving straight into the pool. You looked behind you, regarding the door to the kitchen still hanging open as a gasp quickly brought your attention back to the pool. Lunging forward, you helped this stranger pull Carson out of the pool when you realized you were crying. You heard yourself choke out a sob as you noticed Carson wasn't breathing, until the man grabbed him under the armpits, hoisted him down over one knee, and gave him a firm thump on the back. Carson spit up a cough of water, gasping into a cry and reaching for you. You pulled the little boy close, clutching him tight as you hurriedly walked him upstairs.

Only after he was calmed down, and you called his pediatrician to see if you needed to take any precautions, and you called Melissa for the sake of transparency, did you finally put Carson down for a well-needed nap. Melissa was frustratingly flippant despite her concern, curtly noting that they should put Carson into swim lessons as soon as possible before quickly having to hang up. You flipped on the baby monitor, grabbing the receiver and heading downstairs to retrieve your sandals and cover-up when you noticed the door to the kitchen was still open. You peered inside, following the wet footprints into the door leading to the staff quarters. The trail of drips led down the hall to one of the bedrooms, and you peeked inside. The bed was neatly made, the desk was well organized, and you let yourself gravitate towards the photos pinned on the opposite wall. Sure enough, the stranger from the pool was in nearly all the pictures, smiling and laughing with friends and family members. You were jolted out of your snooping as a hand landed on your shoulder. You whirled around, faced with the handsome guy in the photos.

"Are you lost?" He laughed, patting his hair dry with a fluffy towel. He had apparently changed into his comfy clothes, wearing a thin t-shirt and some track pants.

"Oh, holy crap," you wheezed, "I am so sorry. This looks so weird of me. It is weird of me! I just wanted to thank you so much for what you did."

"It was no problem," he modestly dismissed, "and it had to be done. Is Carson alright?"

"Yes! He'll be fine. And yourself?"

"I'll also be fine," he smiled warmly, his hand returning to your shoulder, "and you? You'll be fine?"

You nodded, earnestly at first and suddenly crumbling back into tears. You were still a bit shaken up, honestly, enough so that you found yourself leaning into the chest of a man whose name you didn't even know.

"Hey," he soothed, "hey, hey, you did great. You did better than great." He slid a gentle knuckle under your chin to tip your gaze up at him. You realized, now, just what you were doing: crying onto -- and hugging -- a stranger in his bedroom while wearing only a bikini.  You found yourself entirely overcome with embarrassment. Your cheeks burning bright red, you turned and scampered out of the room. 

A couple nights had passed before you could bear to venture back down to the kitchen. This had become a bit of a ritual lately, where you would sneak downstairs when you couldn't fall asleep and have a small snack, or maybe a glass or two of wine while you read. It was a stunning kitchen, just like the rest of the house. You hopped up onto the counter with your glass of Pinot, munching on a couple small slices of gouda while you looked over an article on your phone. The door creaked and you steeled yourself, ready to apologize to Melissa for sitting on the counter and drinking her wine (though you knew you didn't have to and you were already sure she drank enough that she'd never notice.) Instead, in through the door popped the cute guy you'd already made a fool of yourself in front of. You both carefully regarded each other from across the room.

"Is that the Pinot?" He asked. 

"Yes?"

"A Merlot would pair better with that." He strolled over, opening the miniature wine fridge on the counter reserved specifically for opened bottles. He slid out a handsome Merlot and poured you a new glass. "I'm not one for letting it breathe when I'm just snacking, but it's worth trying sometime."

You took another nibble of the cheese in your hand, catching yourself keeping eye contact with the man as you tried the wine. You nodded contentedly. "I'm sorry for the other day,” you offered, “That must've been awkward for you."

"No, not at all. Well, no more than needed, which was only a tiny bit. You were stressed out; I get it." He took the half full glass of Pinot out of your hands and sipped from it. "I'd hate to let this go to waste," he explained.

"Do I get to know your name?"

"Only if you promise not to cry on me tonight," he teased, looking regretful as he saw your reaction. "Too mean? Too mean. My name is Kun."

You introduced yourself and you talked.

In fact, you talked late every night in the kitchen that week. Kun was refreshing, smart, thoughtful. Sometimes you just snacked and joked around, other times he cooked you something and you both enjoyed it while you stayed up talking. Kun’s cooking was always effortlessly delicious, whether it was a grilled cheese or an entire tiramisu he secretly made for you to share. It wasn’t long before he suggested you see each other during the daytime, maybe when Carson was at one of his lessons. It was exciting to think that Kun wanted to spend so much time with you. 

“Are you going to watch me?” Carson asked you while he slipped on his ballet shoes. 

“Not today, bud,” you admitted, apologetic but firm.

“Awh, why? I like when you watch,” he pouted.

“I’m hanging out with Kun while you dance. Is that okay?”

Carson thought about it before nodding. “Yeah. I like Kun. He’s nice. Do you like Kun?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “I like Kun. Have fun, and I'll be right here when you're done.” 

Carson waved out the window of the dance studio as you left, waving back at him when Kun pulled up to the curb on his scooter. He handed you a spare helmet before whisking you away. 

Kun had brought you to a tiny cafe deep in the city, winding you down side streets and eventually ending up in a quiet corner of a quiet coffee shop, nonchalantly tittering with the quiet small talk that surrounded you as you sipped your coffee. He explained what made a good cup of coffee, and was pleasantly stunned when you matched him beat for beat with your knowledge from your stint  as a coffee snob. He liked how driven you were, even as you insisted you had no idea what you were doing half the time. Having his personal attention was quickly becoming a luxury, something you treasured more and more. Kun was curious if you considered staying past your contract with the Copelands, but it was hard to tell at this point. What all was there to stay for?

His hand gently held yours as you talked, something you hadn’t expected but readily accepted, his casual forwardness making this easy when it would normally make you wary. You didn’t always fall for guys, but it was so effortless with Kun. He was practically beckoning you with open arms and you were practically leaping into them for how carefree this felt. Every touch was gentle and innocent, like he was scared of chasing you away. He didn’t try to kiss you, he didn’t even try to hold you, but he was perfectly content holding your hand. This was easy. 

What wasn’t as easy was work. Carson wasn’t always cooperative, especially with how little he saw his parents. With so many authority figures in his life but no stable rally point, he would act out. It wasn’t constant, but it was regular enough. The silent treatment one moment, or perhaps a whine, or maybe a full-blown tantrum. You were becoming a pro at ignoring onlookers when Carson would spontaneously decide to have a meltdown. 

On a particularly moody night, Carson begged and begged you to come to dinner with him, and suddenly figured in the middle of the meal that he had no desire to eat his vegetables (which was a shame, considering how impeccable Kun got the roast on them.) His whines became tears as you attempted to reason with him. Melissa watched, carefully observing. Brent momentarily caught your attention, an odd look in his eye making you quickly avert your gaze. Once negotiations were finally settled, Brent smiled a small smile, quietly impressed. Melissa, however, had a look of contempt. Had you done something wrong?

Thankfully, Kun was always there at the end of the night to help you vent, just let off some steam as you sat and hung out in the kitchen. In a rare moment of pure spite, you let him know that even though you had no kids of your own, that you were confident that you’d be a better mother than Melissa. To your utter surprise, Kun agreed.

“The way you handle Carson? Perfect,” Kun praised as he poured you another glass of wine, “Melissa’s just being a jerk because it doesn’t come naturally to her.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. She was all business before Carson from the sound of it, and she doesn’t seem much different. She was Brent’s assistant before she was his wife, you know.”

You pondered that as you sipped your wine. “That actually makes a lot of sense,” you concluded. Kun nodded in return. 

“If it makes you feel any better, it sounds like Brent sees a lot of Melissa in you. I heard him mention it on one of his phone calls he takes in the gazebo out back. I take it that he likes how professional you are and everything.”

It didn’t make you feel better. In all honesty, it hung on you and nagged at you for days. The first time you had really met Brent, weeks ago now, you had literally run into him after bringing some laundry downstairs. Ai would normally grab it, but the brevity still felt odd and you were headed down there anyhow. You had bumped into Brent as you turned a corner, dropping your laundry basket and letting out an uncharacteristic squeal of surprise. Brent was so tall. It was a little intimidating as he had stooped down to help you pick up your clothes, that same sideways smile you saw at dinner tonight on his face as he had handed you a couple of shirts he grabbed for you. His thumb had been right on top of the bundle he passed back to you, dipped into a stray pair of panties that you had dropped with the basket. You had blushed and gathered your clothes before running off. 

You never thought you compared to Melissa, but now you were scrutinizing her as well as yourself. You compared the ways you dressed, the ways you walked, but couldn't see any similarities. What did Brent mean? One day, you sat with Carson in his room as he put makeup on you. He was so interested in coloring and painting, that he got so intensely curious when he noticed you touching up your lips one afternoon. So, you figured, why not let him go crazy? 

“I like your eyes,” Carson observed as he carefully colored your eyebrows. They were currently jet black and very angry. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” he nodded. “I like your face and your hair but I like your eyes the most.”

“What about Mommy?” You asked curiously. 

“I don’t like Mommy’s eyes,” Carson shook his head. 

“You don’t? What else is different about Mommy and me?”

“Everything,” Carson concluded, “what a weird question.”

It was a weird question, but now you felt better knowing that even Carson thought so. 

Finally, the next day, you’d had it. You went to look for Brent when you were sure he was home. It would just be a curious -- but blunt -- question. He'd been nice enough to you before that you figured he would understand. And you’d laugh about it. You’d heard the door to the patio open and close when you’d been studying up in your room signaling you that he was taking one of his business calls in the backyard again.

You quietly padded down the stairs, through the foyer and into the dining room. A gasp forced itself from your chest before you even really registered what you saw outside in the yard beyond the giant sliding glass doors. Melissa turned from where she straddled Kun’s lap by the poolside, her momentary confusion turning into the most spiteful smile you'd ever witnessed. Kun was frozen under her, his eyes locked on you in an expression you couldn't make out before you quickly turned away, reeling as you rushed back to your room. 

It was an odd feeling, being so betrayed by someone you didn’t feel even belonged to you. Of course you were friendly, of course you flirted a little, but now you just felt stupid for ever thinking that Kun wanted you. Of course he would want Melissa instead, Melissa who stood tall and lithe and was pretty and sexy and well-spoken and so, so commanding. You never knew a person who dominated a room like she did. It hurt seeing her on top of him, and you just felt like a petulant girl for it. You waited for him in the kitchen every night for days, but he never showed. Your heartbreak only multiplied. 

Fine, you figured. If Kun liked sexy then you could do that. You felt a little immature the next evening as you unfolded the new dress you bought from its shopping bag, but it felt proactive. The dress was simple, honestly, but it hugged your body and it wasn't like anything you owned already. You did already own exactly one pair of stilettos, something you only brought for appearances in case you had been asked to accompany the family to a party or other function. Your plan was simple: you'd head down to the kitchen to let Ai know you were heading out for the night and just happen to run into Kun. Your heels clicked on the tile and echoed off the walls as you headed downstairs. Was this petty? Sure, but would it get results? You were confident it would. 

The kitchen was apparently empty at first, but you were surprised to see Brent pop up from behind the open refrigerator door as he snapped open a beer. 

“Hey,” he smiled, “would you like one?”

“Oh,” you fumbled, your fingers playing with the chain of your clutch purse, “no, thank you. I was just telling Ai that I was going out, maybe ask Kun for a ride.”

“Well I saw Kun leave a few hours ago,” he shrugged, “but can we talk? I don't usually have time like this.”

“Sure,” you nodded with a small smile as you set your purse down on the kitchen island, “is it about Carson?”

“No no,” Brent shook his head as he pushed an open beer into your hand anyhow. You absently sipped at it, drawing a grin from him. “It's about you. You watch my son almost all hours of the day and I hardly know you.” He pulled a bar stool out from under the island and invited you to sit. However, he still stood as you talked. You explained school and work and life back home, things you realized you'd talked with Kun about not too long ago. 

“Sorry if I'm rambling,” you winced, setting your beer down. Brent flashed you a dashing smile. 

“Not at all. You're great. It's nice to get to know you.” You blushed deep at the words as Brent brushed his fingers back through his hair. “Admittedly, I picked you. I think I did pretty well.”

“You did? You do?”

Brent nodded solemnly. “You think Melissa wanted an au pair around? Someone to be a better mother than she is? If I weren't so busy, I'd have Carson to myself. That's why I'm so glad I picked you. I liked your resume. That presenter picture you included from that convention was cute.”

Your blush heated your face even more. Maybe Brent was just really forward and blunt like his wife? You shifted awkwardly in your seat when he took a step closer to you. “I'm glad I'm doing a good job,” you offered, tempted to slide off your chair before Brent took another step closer. 

“You're doing a fine job,” he spoke softly, “you remind me a lot of Melissa when I first met her. She always looked so eager to please.” At this he stepped between your knees. Your breath hitched in your throat as Brent stroked your hair behind your ear. Even as you clenched your legs, trying to shut him out, he leaned in even closer. “What about you? Are you eager to please?”

Shameful tears were already welling at the corners of your eyes as you thrashed against him, putting your fists up to fight him off. Brent grabbed your wrists in one hand, holding them tight with a disgustingly playful grin as his other hand trailed down to his belt. 

“Think about it,” he chided, “you're in a house in a city in a country on the other side of the planet. Can you really afford losing this job? Getting thrown out on the street?”

“Brent, please—“

“Call me Mr. Copeland,” he insisted. Brent neared despite your tearful grimace, his lips barely brushing yours before he was yanked off of you. You helplessly watched, relieved and terrified as Kun pulled him back and got in between you. 

“Jesus, Brent--” Kun spat, “what the fuck do you think you're doing?!”

Brent immediately squared up against him. He towered over you, but he was still half a head taller than Kun. “Why is it your business, boy? We were just having a nice chat.”

“Didn’t look too nice to me,” Kun shook his head firmly, “I think you should go.”

“I don’t think you should talk to me like that in my own fucking home,” Brent glowered. 

“And I don’t think I should tell Melissa that you hired an au pair just to fuck, but maybe we should both re-think things.” Kun stood his ground as Brent fumed, ultimately throwing a fist right for Kun that he managed to dodge. He tried again, this time Kun ducking and delivering his own punch to Brent’s stomach. Brent crumpled, the air knocked out of him as Kun grabbed your hand and your purse and pulled you into the door to the staff quarters. He flipped a lock on the inside of the door and marched you down the hall into his room as Brent knocked manically on the door. 

Kun closed his bedroom door behind him and instantly caught you as you fell into him, all your frightful tears catching up to you and spilling onto his chest. 

“Shh,” Kun soothed as he wrapped an arm back around your shoulders, careful not to overstep while you were in this state. He still held you close, stroking your hair. 

“What’re you doing back already?” You asked into his shoulder. 

“Been feeling off all week. Going out wasn’t helping, so I came back.”

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke into his shirt, dipping your head down into his chest. 

“Sorry? Why the hell are you sorry?” Kun grabbed your shoulders, pushing you back just enough to look into your eyes. His jaw was set firm, his eyes still wild with adrenaline and anger. 

“The other day when I saw you with Melissa by the pool,” you babbled, “I dunno, I just felt so jealous, and I just wanted you to pay attention to me like that, too, and it’s so stupid, Kun, I was so stupid--”

“No.” Kun said firmly. “That’s not stupid. You're not stupid. I should've talked to you instead of hiding away.” He let you go, taking a seat on the bed and exasperatedly pushing his face into his hands for a second. You took the opportunity to seat yourself at his desk, thankful that he chose the bed instead. “Melissa and I… It’s complicated. She’s lonely but she’s awful, and I need this job now that I have it. My name will be smeared all over town if I leave on bad terms, especially since I've never let her get everything she wants. But she still comes onto me, and even more since you came here.”

“So the other day?”

“I thought she was out at a meeting and I went for a swim. When I came up for air she was sitting there and got me to come out to talk and, well, you saw.” Kun’s eyes were downcast with his admission. “I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for what happened out there.”

“Is it true?” You asked. Kun perked his head back up to look at you. “Did Melissa not want me here?”

Kun sighed. “No.”

“Brent said she didn't want someone to come and be a better mother than her.”

“I know we've joked about it, but she's tried. It just hasn't come to her yet.”

“That's no excuse,” you shook your head, “she can only be so unaccepting. She can't hire me and hate me.”

“Sure she can. She’s stubborn.”

“That’s not fair, though.”

“No, it’s not.” Kun commiserated. 

The silence settled in the room as Brent finally finished knocking down the hall. 

“You look amazing, by the way.” Kun admitted quietly. 

“Only in this?”

Kun shook his head. “All the time, but especially in this.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?”

“The whole… Melissa of it all. If I told you how beautiful are and how good talking to you feels, and how I adore how you taste my food and you don’t just eat it, and you talk to me and you don’t just listen… It would make everything difficult.”

Your patience hit the tipping point, and you were done waiting for something to happen for you. Kun watched curiously as you stood, crossing the couple short steps stand between his knees. His eyes closed as your fingertips pushed back through his hair, but they opened right back up as you gently lowered yourself onto his lap, your thighs on either side of his. Kun waited, wary of moving too fast for you. Only when you wrapped your arms around him did he return the gesture. You stroked his hair back again, and Kun took the hint to look into your eyes again. 

“So we could've done this a long time ago?”

“We should’ve,” Kun replied. His hands gently pulled you closer where they rested on the small of your back. That was all the confirmation you needed. Your fingers threading back through his hair, you gently, finally, lovingly pressed your lips to his. This loosened him up even more, instantly matching and accelerating your growing passion. 

“How much do--” he began asking against your neck as he placed a kiss below your ear. 

“--Everything,” you answered promptly, “I want to make up for missed time.”

“Everything?” He clarified. 

“Everything.”

Kun nodded with an eager grin, quickly sliding off his jacket and getting his fingers into the collar of his t-shirt. He pulled the shirt off and you were confronted with the heat coming off him. It was so inviting that you instantly reached for the zipper on the back of your dress, pulling it all the way down. You shrugged the sleeves off your shoulders, revealing the lacy bra you had on underneath. Kun nuzzled close, his hands gently on your breasts and trailing around back to the clasp as he drew your lips into another hungry kiss. 

“What if we’d been doing this all along?” You smirked as he tossed your bra onto the desk chair. You grabbed his shirt off the bed and did the same.

“Well, I don’t think I could leave you alone,” he laughed as he kissed and groped your breasts.  “It’d be pretty obvious that you're mine.”

“Think we could've prevented that out there?” You asked. Kun grimaced. 

“Don't talk about it, but for what it's worth, sure. Instead of being here you would be out with me at dinner.”

“Tell me I'm yours again,” you smiled sweetly as you kissed his neck, a giggle escaping you when he shivered in return. Kun grabbed you around the waist and laid you down on the bed. The hem of your slinky dress was already raised on your hips. He made quick work of pulling off your panties, tossing these onto the desk chair as well. 

“You’re all mine,” Kun said seriously as he laid against you, pressing up between your spread legs, “just like I'm all yours. And you only have to say so and I would leave with you.”

“You would?” You gasped as you reached between you to get his jeans open. His length warm in your hands drove you wild, all the emotions you were feeling only amplifying. 

“Absolutely,” Kun assured you as he ground into your hand, “you think working here will be the same?”

“What about Carson?” You breathlessly asked as Kun’s own fingers began exploring your entrance. 

“He’ll be fine as long as Ai’s here until she helps hire a new caretaker. And you’ll be fine. You’re going to be a perfect mother some day.” Those words made you throb in a way you never had before. Even Kun took notice of your interesting reaction as his firm cock probed into your dripping pussy. The wheels in his head visibly turned. “Are…” He carefully began, “are you on birth control?”

You nodded, catching up to his train of thought. A faint idea of what he meant was forming in your head, and you wanted to try. “Kun,” you breathed, “fuck me. Put a baby in me.”

Kun’s eyes lit up, the fire behind them practically burning you. “Say it again,” he ordered.

“Put a baby in me, Kun,” you begged sweetly. 

Kun’s cock throbbed hard in you as began to fuck you in earnest. “Alright, now never say it again if you don’t want me to cum instantly,” he laughed breathlessly as he thrust against you. 

“You sure? What if I ask you to cum in me and knock me up?” You smiled evilly and Kun groaned deep. He kissed you hard as you whined against him. 

“Or,” you teased, your high heels tangling behind his back, “What if I say I want to make you a daddy?”

Kun let out another loud groan, his hips faltering against you. “And definitely never say that again,” he laughed desperately. 

“Kun, Kun,” you pleaded, “it’s so good, you’re getting me there.”

“Yeah?” He gave you a naughty smile, “And you want me to cum, too, right? I'll fill you up and make you mine and put a baby in you?”

Your nails raked into Kun’s back, your feverish moans escaping you faster and more desperate as you neared your peak. 

“Cum for me,” Kun ordered, his lips trailing over your shoulder, “cum for me and I promise I'll fill you up.”

You cried out with your orgasm, your tensed thighs clamping around Kun’s hips and he followed right after. He fell against you, your moans and sighs echoing against each other as your throbbing heat milked his cock dry. The two of you curled up into a sweating heap, breathing each other in in the afterglow. 

“You meant it? About leaving together?” You finally asked. Kun panted his affirmation. 

“I do. I'll strike a deal with Brent. No blacklisting and I won’t rat him out.”

“What about Melissa, though?”

“I’ll tell her once I find a new job. It just won't be obvious it's me.”

“Alright,” you nodded, still catching your breath in Kun’s arms, “so why should I?”

“Because I love you,” he whispered in return, and your heart was fit to burst.

[imaginedisish]

Let It Be (Crowley x Reader) Good Omens

A/N: OOOOHHH MY GOD HEY GUYS SO IM OFFICIALLY BACK!!!! I’m a little bit rusty, so this first imagine is probably going to be a little bad. BUT!!! IM BACK. OMFG IM SO HAPPY AHHHH!!! So this imagine is half based on a request about Crowley and the reader starting out as friends, and then beginning to date, and half just something I needed to write. Life has been hard, but writing this helped. The title, and some parts of the imagine are based on Let It Be by The Beatles. I hope you guys enjoy!!! Keep requesting!!! AHHH!!! IM SO EXCITED TO BE BACK YOU HAVE NO IDEA. ENJOY! (P.s I will write for our ineffable husbands...pls just request)

Summary: Crowley comforts the reader after the reader receives devastating news. Crowley takes the opportunity to reveal a secret he’s been keeping for a long time. (College au)

Warnings: Language, depressive thoughts, depression, mental breakdown, some angst, overall sadness, mentioned and implied death of loved one(s). OH AND FLUFF AS ALWAYS ITS FLUFFY DONT WORRY.

Word Count: 1,964

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

You anxiously shuffle around your apartment as Let It Be by the Beatles plays from the record player in your dining room. The wood floors underneath your feet are cold and unwelcoming; a sharp chill rolls down your spine. The city lights glare through your window as the sound from the streets below boom throughout your apartment. Tears begin to fill your eyes, making everything around you a blurry mess. At this point, it had all become far too much for you to handle. 

This year had been a terrible one. You felt as though you were consistently losing everyone around you. It lead you to question whether or not anything had a purpose anymore. Everything had been out of your control for so long, that it seemed as though things could never go back to normal. You were waiting for that light at the end of the tunnel, but it was nowhere to be seen. 

The final straw, unfortunately, was the passing of your aunt. The worst part of it all was how far you were from your family. You were a junior attending NYU, and the semester was about to end. All you had to do was take finals, and you were free for the summer. Then, suddenly, your mother called you with the news. You felt numb, useless, and purposeless. Life seemed so dark, so short, so impossible. 

What am I supposed to do now? You think to yourself. What’s the point of all this? You begin to sob uncontrollably. You know your neighbors can hear you through your walls, but you don’t care anymore. It was all too much for you to deal with. 

Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice, dragging you away from your dark thoughts. “Hello? (Y/N)?”, the voice calls, followed by a knock at the door. You stand up, trembling as you walk towards the door. 

“Crowley? I-Is that y-you?” You stutter, sniffling as you try your best to be loud enough to be heard through the door. You wanted it to be him with everything in you. Crowley had been there for you since the beginning of college. Through thick and thin, he stood by your side. 

You two had met in Central Park in September of your freshman year, and coincidentally realized you both were students at NYU. Something drew you together, and you two had been close ever since. Aside from your tastes in music, you and Crowley were polar opposites. He was tough, and had a sort of “bad boy” exterior. You on the other hand, were soft and kind. You were an English Major, and Crowley was a Chem Major. You were like an angel, and he was much more like a demon. In many ways, you two balanced each other out. 

What Crowley was completely unaware of, however, were your feelings for him. Practically from the day you met him, you knew Crowley was going to be an important part of your life. 

You knew you were going to fall in love with him. 

“Yes, of course it’s me. Now let me in,” Crowley commands. Without hesitating, you swing the door open. 

There was Crowley, his red hair spiked up, his black, circular sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. 

Crowley removes his sunglasses from his face, something he rarely did. He looks you up and down, quickly recognizing that something was wrong. He noticed the red blotchiness of your face, and how tangled your hair was.

He looks down at your hands, which are shaking uncontrollably at your side. A concerned look appears on Crowley’s face. He steps inside quickly, and slams the door behind him. 

You instantaneously feel his arms wrap around your body, pulling you tightly into his chest. “I don’t know what happened, love, but I’m here,” Crowley whispers in your ear, shocking you a bit. He was normally much tougher than this. Seeing this side of him was different. It was far from the Crowley you had come to know. 

“Whatever you need, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” Crowley says as you grip onto his shoulders, and dig your face into his chest. 

You two stay like that for a bit, until you calm down enough to separate from him. Crowley brings a hand to your face, softly wiping away your tears with his thumb. You sniffle softly, waiting for Crowley to ask for more information. 

He opens his mouth. “So, do I get to know what happened?” There it was, the question you were dreading. 

“M-my…” You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. Crowley grabs your hands, holding them in his own. 

“You can tell me, love. I’m here,” His yellow eyes meet yours as they beg for some sort of a response. It’s clear his intensions are good. It’s clear all he wants to do is help. This was so out of character for Crowley. He was never like this. 

“My aunt died, C-Crowley,” You struggle to say as your stare travels from Crowley’s eyes to the floor below you. 

You can feel Crowley’s grip on your hands grow tighter. “I’m so sorry love,” Crowley says, stepping closer to you. “What do you want me to do?” He asks, his hands refusing to let go of yours. 

“J-just stay with me, please,” You whisper.

“Of course, (Y/N),” Crowley says, pulling you back into his arms. You press your face against his chest as his cologne fills the air around you. He smells like vanilla and cigarettes. The two scents somehow balance each other out. “Is there anything else I can do to help?” He asks. 

“N-nothing, Crowley. There isn’t anything anyone can do,” You manage to say. “Honestly I don’t even know what to do anymore,” You pause, catching your breath. “School is so fucking hard. I really don’t think I can do this anymore. It feels like absolute hell. I keep losing people, and I’m so sick of it. I can’t fucking do this anymore. I mean it.” 

Crowley lets go of your hands. “Well, you aren’t going to lose me.” He steps even closer now, his nose just inches away from your face. “And you can count on that, alright?” 

You’re taken back by his words yet again. Crowley wasn’t one for emotions like this.

Regardless, you nod your head in response. “Alright.”  More than anything else at this point, you feel confused. Crowley has never acted like this before. It was a side of him you had never seen. Of course, over the years, he had obviously helped you through things. However, it was never like this. It was usually tough love, or advice; never the “mushy” stuff. 

He walks further into your apartment now, finding his way to the kitchen. He opens your fridge, and takes out a dark, red apple. He opens one of your drawers and finds a knife, and he proceeds to cut the apple up. 

You look at him, confusion clearly written all over your face. “What? You need eat something. Go sit down while I get this ready. I’ll make you some tea too,” Crowley says softly. 

You’re even more confused than before. “This just…” You don’t even know what to say anymore. “This isn’t like you, Crowley,” You say, a slight smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

“What do you mean, love?” Crowley asks, busy at work in the kitchen. “Am I not allowed to take care of you?” 

Your smile grows bigger. “No, it’s just not like you to be…well…”

Crowley finishes your sentence. “Caring? Loving?” He giggles a bit. “Well, it’s you, so it’s different.”

Different? You think to yourself. 

“What about me is different?” You can’t help but ask, making your way into the kitchen now. 

“Everything,” Crowley says, his eyes stuck on the apple he was cutting. “That was actually the reason why I came by, tonight (Y/N). There’s something I need to tell you.” Your heart jumps into your throat. Crowley had never been this vulnerable with you. 

Your mind is racing with thoughts. Could this actually be happening right now? Could Crowley actually have…no, no way. Crowley will never feel for me the way I feel about him, You think.  

“What do you need to tell me?” You ask, stepping closer to Crowley. He puts the knife down, and takes a deep breath. He seems stressed, uneasy. 

“Never mind. Now isn’t the right time. You’re going through so much right now, and I really don’t want to add more stress unto you,” Crowley says, shaking his head and picking up the knife again. 

You take another step towards him. “You could never add more stress to me, Crowley. So, tell me what’s on your mind.” 

Crowley puts the knife down a second time, and closes his eyes. “I, well…you see I…” he trails off, opening his eyes, staring deeply into your own. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it, Crowley.” 

“I’m not good with all this ‘feelings’ bullshit. I’ve already done far more emotionally in the past five minutes than I have in my entire life. Can’t I just get a free pass? Save this whole speech for another day?” Crowley groans, stepping away from the counter. 

“Speech?” You ask. “What speech?”

“Nothing,” Crowley says, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Oh come on. Just tell me Crowley!” You beg. 

Crowley says nothing. 

“Say it already. How hard can it be to-,”

“I’m in love with you,” Crowley blurts out. 

“I-,I…” You’re at a loss for words. You had been waiting for Crowley to say that for three years, and you were convinced it was never going to happen. 

“I knew I was going to fall in love with you that day in the park,” Crowley says, his yellow, golden eyes searching yours frantically. He brings a hand up to comb through his red hair. “Every day from there on out was better because of you.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “I know you don’t feel the same, but I just had to get this out of my system. I love you, (Y/N), and I have for quite some time. I just couldn’t keep ignoring it. I couldn’t just let it be anymore.” 

“Crowley, I-,”

“I’ll go now. I’m so terribly sorry for this,” Crowley says, making his way towards the door. 

“Crowley wait!” You say, following after him. “I love you too,” He stops in his tracks, and whips around to face you. 

“Y-you love me too?” Crowley asks in disbelief. 

“Yes, of course I do, Crowley.” You say. “I’ve loved you from the very beginning.” He stares at you, dumbfounded. 

“Are you serious right now?” He asks. 

You roll your eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He takes a few steps closer to you.  

He cups your right cheek with his hand. “Then I’m sorry I’ve waited so long to do this,” Crowley says. Suddenly, his lips come crashing down on yours. 

His lips are soft and warm. The moment fills you with the sense of purpose you once thought was lost. 

Crowley pulls his lips apart from yours. 

“Better late than never,” You say, a smile spreading across your face. 

And when the broken-hearted people living in the world agree

There will be an answer, let it be

For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see

There will be an answer, let it be

[fresh-outta-jams]

Can You Hear Me?- Part 9

Johnny x Reader

Author: MoRo

Prompt: Oooh okayy, I’d like to request some Johnny fluff please? Like maybe a soulmate au

Summary: You were unconcerned about soulmate things because getting it was the end of your final year in collage and time was counting down until graduation. But what happens when your soulmate suddenly appears right before your finals exams and it turns out he’s been there for much longer than you knew? Having your soulmate in your head was not something you needed but the more you get to know him, the more you appreciate him being there. College!Johnny x reader

Note: Omg yall it’s done...I feel like a part of me is gone now but I’m so happy with how this all turned out!! 

Warnings: The fluff that kills  Word Count: 2.8kish

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

You roll over and hear a soft sigh. "Hmmm..."

Brushing your hair from your eyes, you see Johnny smiling softly down at you. He gives you a soft morning peck.

You smile back and deepen the peck, moving so your knees are on either side of his thighs.

Your hands snake up his sides until they rest in his fluffy sleep mussed hair, threading through the black strands.

You pull back softly and rest your forehead on his. His hands creep up to your waist and he pulls you in close. "Well good morning." He says breathless from the kiss.

You chuckle and slide off him. He flips over onto his side and props his head up on his palm. "I could wake up like that every morning and never get sick of it."

You roll your eyes and push his arm. "Oh stop."

He laughs, showing his white smile.

"Never." He whispers while leaning in to kiss you again. You lean in to meet him, eager for another kiss.

When your lips meet it's like the first time all over again. Kissing Johnny is different every time but in a good way.

His lips move against yours, claiming them, while he rolls over on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head, blocking you in using his body and propping him up.

Then he moves from your lips to down your neck, so slowly with light kisses that tickle you, sending goosebumps running all down your limbs.

You arch up against him, trying to get as close as possible to him. He groans softly and nuzzles against your neck.

His warm breath sends more goosebumps down your spine.

You feel his chest pressing against yours, taking deep breaths. He sighs against your neck, making your hair flutter slightly.

Picking his head up, Johnny looks at you, cheeks flushed pink. "Hi." He says softly.

"Hi." You whisper back.

He smiles lazily before removing his body off of yours and lays next to you.

You smile back and get the urge to kiss him again. It was addicting.

"If you keep looking at me like that, we're never going to be able to leave this bed." He says in a husky voice while leaning into you.

"That doesn't sound so bad..." You murmur against his lips, taking his face in your hands.

He hums softly. "I know but we need to go make a quick errand since I forgot to wrap your Christmas present..." He admits against your lips.

You laugh, the sound vibrating through him.

"I'm not surprised."

Johnny gasps playfully, pulling away to look at you.

"What makes you say that?!"

You laugh at your soulmate.

"I mean," You say leaning into him again, "with me coming here and with school, it makes sense you forgot." You finish the sentence by sealing your lips against his.

He hums against them in agreement and gently pulls your bottom lip in, deepening the kiss.

Your fingers ghost up the side of his face, feeling his strong jaw and prickly skin of his unshaven cheeks, up to the back of his neck and the soft hair there.

Johnny's hand to cup your cheek gently.

A few more moments pass before the need for air becomes overwhelming and you pull apart.

Johnny puts his forehead to yours and closes his eyes. He sighs and smiles. "What am I gonna do with you? You make it so hard to stop kissing you."

You giggle and your lashes brush again his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

Pulling back, you slide off the bed and onto your feet. Padding into the bathroom, you get ready as Johnny does in his bedroom.

Once finally ready and full from breakfast, you two head off to Target to get wrapping paper.

Johnny hands you his phone and gives you control of the aux cord. "Go crazy." He says with a wink.

You laugh and wrack your brain for a song. Then one comes to you. You quickly type it in and press play before smiling big at Johnny.

"If you don't know this I'm going to be disappointed." You tell him.

He glances over at you. "Now I'm nervous!" 

The song begins to pour out of the speaker, the beat taking off.

Ooooo Ooooo Ooooo

Johnny turns to you eyes wide. "Omg is this?..."

You put a finger to your lips and sing the opening lines with Taeyang and G-Dragon.

Johnny smiles big and sings along with you.

Then the chorus hits and you both go crazy and jam out.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Ppangya ppangya ppangya BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Ppangya ppangya ppangya

You start to do the choreo in your seat while Johnny moves his body as best as he can while driving.

Throwing your head back, you start laughing. Big body shaking laughs. You couldn't help it but Johnny looked so funny jamming out in his seat while trying to be a safe driver.

"Y-you're..,” You gasp,”the c-cutest." You try to get out between gasps of breaths and the tears coming out of your eyes.

He looks over at you and flashes you a smile. "Thanks babe."

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

Pretty soon you arrive at Target and you head inside to find wrapping paper for your own present. The irony of it all.

Johnny takes your hand and begins to wander down each aisle with you, oblivious to the signs of where things are.

"Hey babe can you go grab me some tape while I go look for the paper?" He turns to you.

You nod and let go of his hand. "Sure."

You easily find the tape and make your way to the wrapping paper. Out of the corner of your eye though, you see the color of Johnny's coat flash in and out of sight. Curious, you walk over to where you saw him.

Turning the corner, you see the flash of his coat again and his black hair. "Johnny?" You softly call out, not wanting to call attention to yourself.

No answer.

"Johnny?" You try next calling out down the bond.

"Can't hear youuuu~." He says back and you head him giggling.

You huff out loud and roll your eyes. "Are you hiding from me?"

You hear more laughter rolling down the bond. "Maybeee~."

Sensing motion, you snap your head to the side and see Johnny dart into another aisle. "Found you!" You shout down the bond and take off after him.

It surprised you at how well he got away from you considering how tall of a dude he was. But eventually you caught him.

"Got...got you." You gasped out of breath. Johnny's chest heaved too.

"Took...took you long enough." He teases. You hit his chest and glare at him playfully. Laughing, he pulls you close.

You prop your chin on his chest and look up at him. Your eyes go to his lips. Unsurprisingly, you wanted to kiss him again.

You push up to your tiptoe but its still not enough. Was he always this tall?

Johnny notices you struggling to kiss him. "You're almost there babe." He teases, those beautiful eyes crinkling at the corners like how you love.

You huff and try to push up further on your tiptoes. Your hands grip his shoulders, trying to give you leverage.

Like the brat he is, Johnny takes one of your fingers and taps his lips with it. "My lips are up here." Yet he continues to stand tall despite you trying to pull him down to you.

Eventually, he feels bad for you and leans down some. His lips meet yours finally in a deep kiss in the middle of Target, to make up for his teasing.

He pulls away with a smile while you hit him again. "Oh my God you're so annoying."

He laughs and squeezes you tight. "But you love me Y/N."

You roll your eyes again and he taps you in the head with a roll of wrapping paper. "By the way I got the paper!"

You grab at the roll of paper, wanting to use it to hit him.  But like the evil tease he is, Johnny  raises his arm high, keeping the paper out of your reach.

He begins to laugh at your weak jumping attempts, hands splayed trying to grab at the paper.

Eventually you just give up. Johnny laughs again at you and gives you a kiss on the head before going to pay for the tape and paper.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Back at Johnny's house, you lounge on his bed while he wraps your present in his bathroom so you couldn't peek.

His present sits next to you, all wrapped and ready with a blue bow on top.

You were excited to give him his gift ever since you'd bought it.

It was a Polaroid camera. A simple white camera but once you saw it you knew you had to get it for him. You had also bought him extra film for it. Which was smart of you considering the amount of pictures he took.

You shiver slightly from being outside and rub your arms, attempting to warm up quicker. Then you get a great idea and your lips curl up evilly.

"Now where were his sweatshirts?" You think to yourself, looking around his room. Luckily he left one out on his desk chair. It was the black one he wore from your first night here.

You reach over and slip it on. It was huge on you. You were swimming in it, but you loved it. It was also soft like really soft.

You snuggled up in it, pulling the hood over your head and the front of the sweatshirt up to your nose. It smelled like him. Minty and earthy with a little musk.

You were mid another big sniff when Johnny opened up the bathroom door with your present hidden behind his back. At first he didn't notice you in his sweatshirt until he got closer to the bed.

"Is that my...?"

"Yep!" You say from the cocoon of his large hoodie, your face the only thing peeking out.

He smiles that dazzling smile and laughs.

"Wow you move quick. Already taking my clothes." Then he plops down on the bed, flailing out next to you.

You scrunch your nose and try to push him off the bed.

"I got cold!" You try to defend yourself. "By the way, why is it so soft? What is it made out of?"

Johnny gives you an evil smirk and an eyebrow quirk.

"Boyfriend material." He says without missing a beat.

"Oh my God you did not." You throw your face in your hands, exasperated.

Johnny just laughs at your reaction and clutches his stomach.

"I'm sorry babe. I had to! It was just too good of a moment to pass up!"

"I hate you."  You chuckle in between your fingers.

"I love you too." He responds reaching up to pull your hands away from your face.

You just shake your head at him and he removes your hands from your face.

"I'm going to spend forever with a dork." You sigh teasingly.

Johnny laughs some more. "But a cute, loveable, funny dork." The corner of his eyes crinkle as he smiles at you.

You lean down lips curled into a soft smile. "That is true. My cute, loveable, funny dork."

Johnny leans up to meet you in a chaste kiss.

You give him a little peck back before reclining back on the bed pillows.

His present digs into your back. "Oh your present!" You pull out the box and hand it to him, giddily watching him.

He tears through the paper and looks at the writing on the front of the box.

"Oh my god, you didn't did you!?" His head whips up at you, eyes shining like a little boy.

You shrug. "I dunno. Keep opening it up."

He continues to tear through the package and pulls out the white Polaroid camera.

"Y/N... I love it so much..." He turns it over and over, running his long fingers gently across the surface.

Out of the corner of your eye, the blue bow from the top of Johhny's present catches your eye. You reach for it and put it on top of your head.

"Hey Johnny," You say to get his attention. He looks up from his camera, "Look, I'm your present." You give him a silly grin, your turn to be cheesy. He smiles back at you.

"And my future."

Oof that hit you right in your feels. Then the bright light of the flash goes off.

"Hey! Did you take a picture of me?" You demand as your soulmate grins at you while flapping a Polaroid to develop it.

"Maybeeee... I had to test it out and you look so cute right now." He smiles at you with that heart melting charm of his.

You smile back and laugh. "You're lucky I love you." You mumble softly.

"I know.." He says softly back, pulling you close. "Soooo, do you want your Christmas present?"

You sit up quickly and give your soulmate a charming smile. "Of course." You say before moving away from him so you have space to open up his gift.

He smiles back at you.

"So I really hope you like it... I don't know if it's cheesy or not but I was like what do I get for the girl who is perfect in every way but then I was talking to Eomma and she said since you're a medical student you need to take care of yourself and... oh... I just ruined the surprise..."

His cheeks grow red and he looks away from you as he hands you a wrapped box. You smile and laugh at him.

"I will love anything you give me."  You say as you gently rip off the wrapping paper and open up the box. You begin to pull out each item as he sits close and watches you intently.

You pull out the first item, a light green candle. You unscrew the top and smell it.

"Eucalyptus is supposed to help with stress relief..." Johnny narrates as you continue to go through things.

Next thing is a pair of pale pink polka dotted fuzzy socks. You rub the socks against your face because they are so freakin' soft.

"Fuzzy socks for when it's cold and you're studying to keep your feet warm and promote circulation..." He rambles off, ears growing red as his eyes dart up to meet yours then back down to his bedspread.

He really put a lot of thought into each item. Your heart swells has you reach back into the box.

You pull out a ton of your favorite chocolates with colored sticky notes on them. Each sticky note had a different motivational saying or a sweet something from Johnny in his handwriting.

"For your sweet tooth and to keep you motivated..." He now is rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment for how cheesy everything is getting. You love it though.

You look a little closer at some of the chocolates. There was a ton of sticky notes. He painstakingly wrote out all of them. It must have taken him hours. Your eyes begin to water with how sweet your soulmate is to you.

You sniff a little and go onto the next thing.

It was a big black t-shirt and a grey hoodie. The smell of his cologne wafted up at you. You hug the clothes.

"For when you miss me and I can't be there...it's an old t-shirt and hoodie of mine..." He picks at the bedspread, cheeks and ears bright red. You smile at his reaction. Your soulmate who loved to make you a red mess was a red blushing mess himself.

You gently set the clothes aside and reach inside for the last thing. It was heavy and took two hands to pull out.

It was a dark navy blue weighted blanket. You had always wanted one but they were too expensive for your college student budget.

"You had talked about once how you wanted one really badly... I researched them some and it's supposed to help with your anxiety and sleeping problems..." Now he looks up at you, eyes searching your face.

You look at your soulmate, watery eyes spilling over.

Johnny's brow crumples and his eyes get wide. "Oh no...Y/N... I'm so sorry if you don't like something-"

"N-no, it's perfect." You cut him off. "You're perfect. I love it all so much... I'm just really happy right now."  

You rub your eyes with the sleeves of Johnny's black hoodie that you're still wearing. "These are happy tears."  You say with a smile and a sniffle.

Johnny pushes the box and wrapping paper off the bed so he can be closer to you. You crawl into his lap as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, bundling you up. "I love you so much Y/N. I'm so glad you love it." He whispers while planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You hum and close your eyes, snuggling deeper in his arms."I love you too Johnny. So so much."