#she's almost 10k words long wow

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 8

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, flashbacks, abuse, blood, violence, getting kicked out, forbidden relationship, swearing, pining

Word Count: 10k (i'm so sorry)

Summary: An insight to the past has you remembering just how hurt you were. You're still refusing to talk to your dad, and he isn't quite sure how to get you to open up. Even after a meeting with Cyclone, you're reminded you still have an entire team ready to back you up. Rooster is ready to apologize and welcome you back, but are you? (Also, can dogfight football really fix everything?)

A/N: Wow, I really didn't mean for it to get this long but here we are. But also I did procrastinate my homework to do this, and I don't regret it. I hope you all enjoy! Comments and reblogs literally make me cry tears of joy, happy reading!

Masterlist

10 years ago

Driving your beat up Toyota Corolla down the streets to your mom’s extravagant home was nothing new to you. The anticipatory anxiety wasn’t new either. You had memorized your mom’s work schedule to know when she would or wouldn’t be home when you got back from school, but lately it’s been a little erratic. Almost as much as she was. So was the real estate market you supposed.

You sigh in relief when you don’t see her car in the driveway. In these moments you thanked her husband for owning three cars and parking them all in the garage. You, of course, get to park on the street, which added a couple extra dents to your car that weren’t there before, but you weren’t one to complain. Disappointed maybe, that your pride and joy you spent your summers working at the local smoothie joint to afford, was a little more rough around the edges than when you purchased it.

You check the mailbox at the curb before going in. Of course it was empty. It became a habit ever since you applied to USNA to check the mailbox daily, hopefully to intercept the good or bad news before anyone else could see it. 

The house is quiet as you enter, all three of your step-siblings must be with their mom. And Bret, your step-dad, doesn’t get home until after 5:00 most days, leaving you to your own devices. Even if you wanted to do something fun with the house to yourself, you never dare. The second your mom comes home she would notice if a single crumb was left in the sink. You have been on the receiving end of her anger at the state of the house too many times to count, even if it was Bret’s kids who made it. But of course, she wasn’t going to get mad at them. It always ended up being your fault somehow.

Still, you grab a snack and try carefully not to drop any of the pretzels as you go to your room. It was homework all the time in your last semester of High School. You were still waiting to hear from the Naval Academy, but you wanted your good grades to follow through to the very end of the year. Hours of taking notes kept your hand cramped, but it would all be worth it in the end. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.  You had spent the last four years working ridiculously hard to maintain your grades, all in the hopes of getting the opportunity your dad and Bradley weren’t afforded. Of course, you’ll never know if Bradley would have been accepted anyway. Which is why you were all too happy to keep this little secret to yourself.

Only a couple short hours later you hear the front door unlock and slam shut. It rattles you out of the Physics textbook you were intently studying, as you straighten up. Whatever she was mad about, it wasn’t good. It was the sound of her heels clacking up the stairs that set you on edge. As they get louder and closer to your room, you turn to face her right as she throws the door wide open. Privacy not a concept she was familiar with. You don’t even notice the bundle of mail in her hand as her eyes glare absolute daggers at you.

“Hi mom, how was work?”, you attempt to start the conversation civilly. It paints you more as a mouse, the way it comes out in a squeak. Her manicured claws squeeze harder around the letters as she throws all but one onto the floor.

“What is this?”, she seethes, holding out the large envelope addressed to you. Your blood runs cold as your shaky hands take it from her and the USNA insignia in the top left corner is revealed.

“I-”, you swallow, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”, she blinks.

“I’m sure it’s some sort of recruiting thing they send to all seniors”, you try to reason. She clicks her tongue, folding her arms.

“Then open it and let’s find out.” There is no room for argument as she raises her brows for you to continue, her eyes still alight with pure rage. Your heart beats faster as your shaky fingers slowly tear open the envelope. They don’t stop as you withdraw the paper. Tears start to form in your eyes as you read the first line of the letter. The excitement you had for any of this is quickly overrun by fear as your mom interrupts you.

“Read it outloud.” Swallowing, you clear your throat without giving her a look and start to read.

“Dear Miss Mitchell, congratulations. We are pleased to offer you an appointment to the United States Naval Academy…”, your voice wavers off toward the end. The moment you had so looked forward to was being tainted as you spoke. You begin to chew on your lip as your eyes slowly make their way back to your mom. Her jaw is set as she stares you down. “Mom-”

“I don’t even know where to start with you”, she seethes. “After years and years of wasting my own life to give you one, this is how you repay me? By throwing it all away, and for what? The chance to be like your father? Or- or Carole’s kid who can’t even be bothered to talk to you anymore?” The use of Carole’s name has you snapping your head back from where it hung in fear.

“Don’t talk about them.” She scoffs at your tiny show of courage.

“I just don’t understand how you could do this to me! You’re not going.” She says with an edge of finality.

“What?”

“You aren’t going. That is final. No daughter of mine will be sucked into this trap.” Staring back down at your lap, you hope to find one last bit of courage sewn within the denim of your jeans.

“Mom, I’m- I’m going”, you manage to stutter out.

“No you’re not”, she bites back. “You know how I feel about your father, about this, and for some reason I just can’t get through to you.” She scoffs again and paces around your room, heels clicking with each step. You stand as she inspects the picture frames on your bookshelf, it wouldn’t be the first time she broke something of yours, and you want to be able to stop it if it happens again. “Do you know how much I gave up to raise you? How hard it was- is to be your mother?” What she says doesn’t hurt as much as it used to when you were younger, but it still stings every time. Like rubbing salt in an old wound that didn’t heal properly.

“I didn’t ask to be brought into this world”, you defend, your voice raising slightly. “And I’m sorry if it was so hard to be my mom, but you’re the one who brought me back after every summer. You could have left me with my dad if I was that much of a burden to you!” Before you’re able to register it, she’s moved closer and has her claws wrapped around your arms, pushing you against your desk. In her heels she’s only a couple inches taller than you, but it feels much bigger as she towers over you.

“Do NOT talk back to me you ungrateful brat!” Her fingers grow tighter as she shakes you. You blink rapidly as you wince in pain. “Your father is my biggest regret in life. I wouldn’t have wasted all those years raising his child just to know you would end up being just like him.” She steps away, gathering her thoughts as she turns her back to you. You thought it was only possible to feel fear when in your mother’s presence, even if you were ever angry it was quickly tamped down by the threat of her own rage. This feeling now is new. The one that has you clenching your fists, gathering the courage from the back of your mind to say something. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s all come down to this one boiling point. And you weren’t about to give up your dreams just to keep the peace one last time.

“Stop blaming me for all your downfalls, when you’re the one who slept with him in the first place!” You don’t see it coming. The backhand you had grown used to smacks across your face, causing you to fall back and slide to the floor. The taste of metal fills your mouth as you bring your hand to cradle where she just hit. The spot on your lip you had been chewing earlier has split from her ring, blood coating your fingers as you bring them away from your mouth. She eyes her ring, taking it off and pocketing it to clean later.

As your face starts to throb as your jaw wobbles, the woman before you crouches and puts her finger in your face while you cower on the floor. “When you leave, don’t even bother coming back. I mean it. Don’t come crying to me when you realize you can’t last a day, because once you exit this house, you are not my daughter anymore.”

You start packing that night. The rooms at the Academy aren’t available until a couple weeks before the school year starts, but you want to be ready when they are.

You go to school the next day, turn in your homework like you always do, and if people ask about your lip, you tell them the same little lie, “I was just playing basketball and it bounced wrong and hit me in the face.” They seem to believe it, even though you don’t have a hoop, or a basketball for that matter.

When you drive home the first thing you notice is all the boxes on the front porch. Your boxes. Scrambling to the front door, you attempt to unlock it with your key, but it doesn’t fit the lock. Your mom’s car sits in the driveway as you knock and knock, eventually pleading with her to let you in. The house remains silent, as if she isn’t in the kitchen nursing a glass of wine.

Realizing there’s nothing you can do, you pack your car with the few possessions you have and start driving. The tears start falling down your face as you look in your rearview mirror and see what little boxes your entire life has been packed into. You find yourself at a local park, one you’ve passed everyday on your way to school. The sun is shining as you pull out your phone and decide to make one last ditch attempt for help. Clicking Bradley’s name, you hold your phone to your ear and beg as it rings that he picks up. Just this once. The robotic voice tells you he’s unable to get to the phone as you hang your head, your split lip pouting until the beep indicates it’s your turn to talk.

“Hey Bradley. I know we haven’t talked in a while”, you sniffle, “but if there’s any chance you’re hearing this, please pick up”, you start to sob. “I really need to talk to you… I don’t know who else to- to call. Just please, please call me back.” You manage in between your cries. “I miss you, and I hope you’re ok.” You click the button to end it before you ramble on too much. Staring back up to the park, you watch the families playing with their kids. A mom chasing her daughter as she hides behind the slide, a dad throwing a baseball with his son. If someone were to look on they’d probably find it creepy, but you don’t care. You stay until it gets dark, and even after you end up staying your first night of many in your car.

Present Day

Cyclone’s office is unarguably the largest on base. The fact that he has his own waiting room and assistant is a testament to that fact. You’re sitting in said waiting room, across from Rooster, who is still sporting a large bruise. It’s starting to turn the slightest shade of green on the outside, but it’s still rather purple.

Your dad- or Captain Mitchell right now, is inside with Cyclone, discussing the potential for you to be punished. At least that’s what you’re assuming since you assaulted an officer. After dinner Saturday, your dad attempted to talk to you but you shut him out and stayed in your room all night. It wasn’t any better yesterday. He gave you your space, but you could hear him pacing downstairs the entire day, just waiting for you to come out. Bob checked in a couple times just to see how you were feeling, but other than that you kept to yourself.

You didn’t leave your room at all, even when your dad eventually came up to bring you food, he left it outside your door. All while letting you know he was going to be on base early tomorrow to talk to Cyclone, allowing you to drive by yourself this morning. You had barely stepped foot on base when you were intersected by Warlock telling you Admiral Simpson wanted to see you in his office. It struck you with panic causing you to start chewing on your lip, and it didn’t bode well that Rooster was also there waiting when you arrived.

Rooster clears his throat and your stern gaze shoots up to him.

“Sorry”, he quickly lets out. Taking a deep breath in, you let your head fall back to the wall and allow the awkward silence to continue. It occurred to you when you sat down how much this felt like being called to the principal’s office. Except in this case, the punishments were far worse than being put in detention.

The door to Cyclone’s office opens and the two of you stand as Maverick walks out. Clearing his throat he greets you, “Lieutenants.”

“Sir”, you let out in unison. He walks past the two of you as Cyclone’s assistant lets you know you can both enter. Straightening your khaki pants, Rooster allows you to walk in first and the two of you stand to attention in front of his desk. He sits in his seat, staring out the window, and turns to look at the two of you fully, doing a slight double take as his gaze washes over Rooster.

“I am going to tell the two of you what I told Captain Mitchell'', he starts, voice as deep and ruling as always, “The U.S. government does not sign my paychecks to be a god damn babysitter. If you cannot get along as a team, then you will not fly as one. I will send one or the other to another squadron faster than you can say ‘Yes Sir’. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir”, the two of you respond.

“Being on this squadron is a privilege, not a right. The two of you are on thin ice. If either of you have a problem, you better let me know now so I can find the next pilot who will gladly fill your spot in a second flat.” His gaze darts between the two of you as your palms grow sweaty. “Understood?”

“Yes sir.” He eyes Rooster’s face once more, and then back to you very briefly.

“Rooster, if there is anything you would like to let me know about I suggest you say it now.” Swallowing, you can see Rooster out of the corner of your eye do the same.

“No, sir. There is not.”

“You won’t mind me asking where you got the shiner from then?” He asks as he eyes you, you’re more thankful than ever your hands are behind your back at the moment.

“Tripped and hit my face on some stairs, sir.” Your breathing slows slightly as Rooster covers for you. It makes you feel the slightest bit guilty for hitting him in the first place.

“Rooster, you are dismissed.” Your heart tightens in your chest as Rooster exits, leaving just you and the fire breathing dragon. He turns his attention to a pile of papers on his desk as he fans them out.

“I have to tell you, I was initially surprised I hadn’t had to call you in here earlier, given your father’s reputation. But, taking another look at your records, I’m surprised you’re in here at all.” You remain still as stone, staring at the wall just above his head. “Top of your class at the Academy, as well as Top Gun, and yet, you’re still in my office.” Raising a brow, he brings his full attention back to you. “Why is that, Lieutenant Mitchell?” You scoff internally at him questioning you instead of Rooster.

“Things got out of hand, sir. It won’t happen again.” Sighing, he stands and faces his window, gazing upon his domain.

“I wasn’t hesitant when Admiral Kazansky suggested you be added to this detachment. Your records speak for themselves. The insistence on having Captain Mitchell in charge however, made me more skeptical. How would that look?” He turns to you once more. “Having a parent and child in the same squadron? Rooster might know your dad, but on paper you have more to gain. And your flying ability doesn’t mean anything when politics are involved. It doesn’t matter what was said.” Setting both hands on his desk, he leans forward, his piercing gaze burning a hole through your facade, “I am going to give you some advice, and it is in your best interest to listen and listen good. What happened last week cannot happen again. Tread lightly, keep your head down, and do what you came here to do. Your job.” Punctuating the last two words with his finger pounding on the desk, he finally takes his seat. “You are dismissed.” 

You hold your breath all the way to the hallway. Once out of sight from anyone, you take in a deep breath and let it out through your nose, collecting yourself before making your way to the women’s locker room. You know he’s right. You let yourself get comfortable, and once you get comfortable things start to crumble. It’s like everything you touch gets ruined and breaks right under your fingertips. This was no exception. You had to be better, do better. Emotions are where you lose control, say things you shouldn’t say, and you get justly punished for them.

You are still before the locker room door, taking in a breath before letting yourself in. Halo is lacing up her boots while Phoenix slips her flight suit on when you get to your locker. They both greet you with a small smile as you start to change uniforms.

“How was your meeting with the air boss?” Phoenix asks, already knowing all about it apparently. “Did he totally lay into Rooster?”

“If he laid into him more than you did, I’d be surprised he’s still standing”, Halo comments.

“Wait, what did you say to him?”, you ask Phoenix as she rolls her eyes.

“Something along the lines of ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’, ‘why are you being such a dicktroll’, and ‘I can’t even look at you right now’”, Halo lists off for her.

“Dicktroll?”, you laugh, “That’s a new one.”

“Yeah well, when I’m mad the words just start coming out of my mouth.” 

“He’s still your friend”, you mutter. “And I said some regrettable things, too.”

“Mantis. You’re my friend. I don’t even know if I would call him that after this. And yeah, I know you separately and out of whatever mess you’re in now, but I know when someone is being an asshole. And Rooster was being a major asshole. What you said didn’t warrant what he told everyone” She catches your shoulder as you finish zipping up your flight suit, “I’m gonna have your back no matter what, ok? And I guarantee everyone else in that room will, too.” You turn to Halo as she nods in agreement.

“I appreciate it, truly”, you thank them as you begin to tie up your own boots.

“What did Cyclone say to you, though?” Halo asks.

“Um”, you cough, “Basically I’m just happy to even still be here.”

“What does that mean?” Phoenix asks as her brows furrow.

“Doesn’t matter”, you reply, patting her back as the three of you leave the locker room.

Maverick is already at the front of the room, talking with Hondo as you walk in behind Halo and Phoenix. Bob smiles at the two of them, and you think for a second you see it get slightly wider as he spots you behind them. It almost makes you forget that everyone is trying and failing to hide the fact that they’re thinking about what Rooster said.

That fact alone has you crawling in your skin just a little bit. Bob turns to you as you open your notebook to where you were taking notes on Friday. You try your best to ignore the flits of eyes that turn your way, but you can still feel them on you.

“Hey”, he smiles.

“Hey”, you smile right back.

“How’s your hand feelin?”, he whispers.

“Oh that”, looking down at it, you stretch your fingers out and wiggle them, “Definitely feeling a lot better.” Phoenix turns at your own words, eyes widening as she looks at the discoloration on your knuckles.

“Jesus, what happened?” You’re about to tell her the same lie you told Penny, but before you’re able to open your mouth, Hangman whistles from his seat on the other side of the aisle. Everyone’s eyes follow Rooster as he makes the uncomfortable trek to the back of the room. Phoenix’s eyes quickly move from the bruise on his face back to your hand as you tuck it under your opposite one. A slow smile creeps on her face as she realizes how you stood up for yourself. “Nice shot”, she whispers to you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, you whisper back as you pretend to look through your notes.

“Rooster”, Maverick’s voice speaks from the front, “Take a seat up here please”, he asks as he motions to the vacant seat next to you. Your brows furrow as do Rooster’s.

“Mav-”

“Now”, he responds rather sternly. Rooster follows his orders and he sits next to you as you stiffen. The rest of the room is silent as they wait for Mav to start the day.

“It has been brought to my attention that there has been some hostility amongst this team.” If it wasn’t at all obvious he was talking about you and Rooster, the ways his eyes wander to the two of you confirm the fact to everyone. “If you can’t act as a team, it is incredibly hard to fly as a team, and when you don’t fly as a team, people get hurt.” He eyes the room as everyone looks on in anticipation. “That being said, we’re going to start today with a little… exercise.” He says the last word with a hint of a smirk on his face.

“I will ask each of you a question. If you get it wrong you will have to do 10 pushups. If you get it right, however, you can choose anyone in our squad to do those 10 pushups for you.” People start to groan around the room at the prospect of not answering a question correctly.

“Rooster”, your dad starts, “When did the U.S. land on the moon?”

“Um, July 1969”, he responds, no doubt he has the right answer.

“Wrong, the correct answer is July sixteenth, 1969. Drop and give me 10.” Rooster blinks in surprise, but does as he says. Everyone shifts in their seats, realizing how nitpicky he’s being about these answers.

“Phoenix, what year was Top Gun founded?”

“It was 1969, and I believe it was in-”

“Correct”, your dad interrupts her. “Who would you like to give your push ups to?” She smiles slightly and turns to where Rooster has just sat back down after finishing his pushups.

“Rooster”

“You heard her, give me another 10, Rooster.” He does as he’s told, once more dropping to the floor.

“Payback, when was the Declaration of Independence signed?” Payback laughs slightly at the question, before noticing the very serious look on Maverick’s face.

“July 4, 1776, sir.”

“Very good, who gets your pushups?”

“Rooster”, he responds immediately. Payback looks over, sending you a small nod and smile, and you give it right back. Rooster stays down this time, as Hondo, who is all too happy to be doing this, counts his pushups from the back of the room. You watch across the room as everyone’s eyes light up. Maverick continues to go around asking possibly the easiest U.S. History questions, and everytime a member of the squad gets their answer inevitably right, they assign their punishment to Rooster. Your heart warms that every time someone gives their correct answer, they spare you a glance or a nod, subtly acknowledging they’re doing it for you.

Rooster’s starting to sweat and slow down as Maverick finally gets to you. His eyes grow a touch softer as they look at you. He clears his throat, asking his final question, “Mantis, who was the first American woman in space?” A small smile creeps on your face at what seems to everyone else to be a surface-level question.

“Sally Ride”, you answer. The memory of being 8 with dreams of being an astronaut fill your head. One summer at the Bradshaw’s, a documentary about Sally Ride was airing on t.v. and thinking it would be good for you to see a female role model, Carole left it on for you to watch. Turns out, you got a little too obsessed, to the point Carole hand-made a NASA jumpsuit for you to wear on Halloween months later. Bradley even helped you memorize the planets in the solar system that summer, telling you that’s the first thing you needed to know if you were going to be an astronaut. He was 14 at the time, and could have been doing a number of other things than hanging out with an eight year old, but he stayed with you the entire summer. It was one where your dad was deployed the last month, but he stuck by to make sure you never got lonely. You still knew the planet song he made up to help you memorize them like the back of your hand.

“Who gets your pushups?”, he asks, even as a formality now. As you stare at Rooster, who is behind on his last two sets, you’re reminded of that 14-year-old, who stayed with you when you were alone, and taught you how to go after what you wanted. The memory causes a lapse in your anger, and just this once you decide to go easy on him.

“Can I give them to you, sir?” His eyes go a bit wide as he blinks away his surprise. “You are technically a part of this team, are you not?”

“I guess, yeah- I am. Alright Hondo”, he says as he situates himself on the ground, “Count me out.”

Rooster and Maverick finish their pushups almost simultaneously, which leaves the rest of the time in the classroom to go over more flight maneuvers for the following week.

Bob saves you a seat at lunch like he’s been doing it forever, and you are more than happy to sit next to him.

“Do you realize that yesterday was the first day in like 3 weeks we haven’t seen each other in person?” You ask, taking a chip off of his plate.

“Wow”, he remarks, watching you so casually sharing each other's food. “I mean I did notice… It was awfully quiet at my house.” He gives you a small smile as you lightly shove his shoulder.

“Shut up.”

“What were you doing yesterday?”

“Quite literally nothing”, you reply, taking in a deep breath. Bob continues eating as you mull over your next words. “Rooster was at dinner on Saturday.”

“Are you serious?” He asks, almost choking on a chip.

“Yeah”, you nod, “He told me he was sorry, again.”

“How did that go?”, he treads lightly. You sigh, glancing across the mess-hall to see Rooster eating at a table by himself. For once he’s the one who looks lonely, and you can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. But then again, he did this to himself.

“I don’t know, I think he was angry at me for the wrong reasons, which made him feel worse about what he said.”

“He should feel bad about it. It doesn’t matter if they were the wrong reasons, he shouldn’t have said it at all.”, Bob mutters, causing you to look back at him. He blinks a couple times under your gaze as you don’t look away. “What?”

“Thanks for having my back”

“Of course, I’ll always have your back”, his smile gets a little more full, a little more crooked the longer you two look at each other. And you can feel the same happening to your own smile before you look over Bob’s shoulder to see Phoenix heading your way. Dropping her lunch bag on the table has you scooting the slightest bit away from Bob, just to create a little more distance between the two of you.

“Soo”, she draws out, “I know it’s been a wild few days, but are you two still coming to my house this weekend?” Shit, you forgot all about the party she invited you to. “I’m officially uninviting Rooster if that sways you in anyway.” Chuckling slightly, you look over her shoulder and watch Rooster as he picks at his own food.

“It’s fine, Phoenix. Like Mav said, if we can’t work as a team it’s hard to fly as one.” You decide.

“This is a party, Mantis. One in which I would not like to invite losers and assholes into my home, and he fits into both of those categories.”

“So does Hangman”, you reply as she rolls her eyes. “He did apologize to me, and I believe him.”

“Did you forgive him, though?”, Bob chimes in.

“That’s beside the point. Whatever is going on with me and Rooster doesn’t involve the rest of you, and I never should have brought it into work.” Phoenix looks on in contemplation as Bob gives you an earnest look in understanding. “Plus, we have direct orders to be on our best behavior.”

“I’ll think about it”, she trails off. There’s a lull in the conversation as you continue to eat until Phoenix turns to Bob. “Rachel’s friend Emily is gonna be there, too.” You stop eating, trying to glance at Bob’s reaction through the corner of your eye.

“Phoenix-”, he groans, “I’ve already told you I don’t want to be set up on any dates.”

“And why not?”, she probes. “I just wanna see you happy, you’re like my little brother now.”

“I just…”, his eyes move quickly from Phoenix to glance at you once before she moves on.

“It’s not even a date”, she reasons, “Just come to the party and meet her. That’s all I’m asking.” The conversation ends with that as you ponder Phoenix’s words. You don’t view Bob as a brother at all, but you want to see him happy. You’re happy whenever you’re with him, and you hope he’s happy, too. But you know it’s not sufficient. Bob deserves love, something you can’t give him, and something you don’t even know he wants from you. Even if it was a possibility.

The next day, your father takes a strange but familiar route to get the team back in its groove. He lets you know that day before you leave to meet at the Hard Deck instead of on base, and an immediate buzz fills the air. Everyone already knows what’s going down.

“Your dad’s not one for talking is he?” Fanboy asks as you trudge your way through the sand.

“No, no he is not”, you respond while placing your sunglasses over your eyes. Your dad had explicitly stated to you the day before that he got permission this time for an entire beach day. This explanation had come no further than two seconds after you had asked if Cyclone was going to make a surprise appearance this time.

The San Diego sun is as harsh as ever as the sweltering heat threatens to melt the sun screen right off your skin. Following Payback and Fanboy from the parking lot of the Hard Deck, you meet your father and the rest of the squad closer to the water. Everyone else is already shirtless and ready to start, except for Bob of course. Much to your battling emotions of relief and disappointment. You catch his eye, and make your way over to him as he talks to Omaha and Phoenix.

“Are you ready for some team bonding?” Phoenix asks you sarcastically as you roll your eyes.

“So ready. What better way to get over a fight than throwing balls and tackling each other?” You add with a cheery fakeness that has Bob chuckling. Hondo whistles, taking your attention away from the tall WSO as the day commences.

“Alright, listen up!”, your dad starts, “Today’s training is dogfight football. I’m choosing the teams this time.” Rolling your eyes at the notion, you turn to Bob.

“How much you wanna bet he puts me on a team with Rooster and Hangman?”, you whisper through the side of your mouth. Glancing down at you through his tinted prescription lenses, he chuckles slightly.

“I’m not a gambling man, but I’d bet it all on that”, you smile and shake your head, catching sight of Rooster off to the side of everyone. He’s already looking in your direction, causing you to furrow your brows and look back to your dad.

“Starting with team number one, we have Mantis, Rooster, Hangman, Fanboy, Omaha, and Yale.” He announces as you scoff only loud enough for Bob to hear.

The teams move to gather in huddles before the game starts, and as Hangman and Omaha argue over who gets to be the quarterback, you watch as Fanboy and Yale attempt to come up with a solution. You don’t even notice Rooster at first as he stands next to you. He clears his throat, startling you slightly as you look in his direction, then back to the boys fighting.

“I wanted to say thank you for not giving me your push ups yesterday.” You know an olive branch when you see one, having offered him multiple over many years. Still, you don’t look away from the display of toxic masculinity in front of you before answering.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Seriously, I appreciate it.” You don’t respond to him this time, prompting him to fill the silence between the two of you. “Mantis, I really am sorry-”

“What are you doing, Rooster?”, you ask now, turning to face him. He’s taken aback by your abruptness as he stammers for a response.

“I just thought maybe since-”

“Since Cyclone told us to play nice?” You finish for him. “Don’t get it twisted, Rooster. My actions from yesterday are purely so that I can remain on this team. I worked my ass off to get here, and I am not going to let you of all people jeopardize that.” Walking away from him, you tear the football out of Hangman’s hands while he’s distracted. “Do we have a game plan or what?”

Bob is desperately trying to pay attention to Maverick reiterating the rules of dogfight football, but his eyes keep wandering back to you as you stand next to Hangman. You’re wearing a loose tank top and he can see your sports bra through the sides, leaving the tiniest sliver of skin available for his eyes to roam over. You’re trying your best to act interested even though you know this game front and back. He catches your eyes wandering over the squad, and through his sunglasses he sees you widen your eyes in fake agony. He smiles as you continue to roll your eyes, and as he shakes his head in an attempt to hide his laugh, he glances over and finds Rooster staring at him. Squaring his shoulders as if he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, Bob turns his attention back to Mav.

The game gets ready to start, you and Bob being chosen to snap the footballs. “Get ready to go down, Floyd”, you joke as you bend forward, setting the football on the sand. He mirrors your actions, and as he bends forward, he forgets any response he was about to say. From where he’s bent over, he can see right down your tank top and sports bra, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. Swallowing, and looking back to your eyes, you don’t seem to notice his miniscule distraction. He barely even hears the whistle before you’re snapping the ball to Hangman and attempting to block the rest of his team. His hands feel a little more clammy than before the game started.

In order to keep your team happy, the decision is made to keep switching positions. You think it’s a good idea at the time, but as you run slightly backwards in order to try to catch the ball, you don’t even see what you’re hitting until the wind is knocked out of you. In an attempt to catch the ball Omaha’s thrown, your arms are stretched out, but you ultimately end up with your arms full of Bob as the two of you hit the sand hard.

Hondo blows his whistle, signaling everyone to stop as Bob groans from beneath you. The vibration of his chest against yours distracts you from the ache in your temple as you sit up to stare down at his face, eyes squinting in pain.

“Oh my god, are you ok?” You ask, assessing for any injuries.

“I’m fine, are you ok?”, he manages to slip out. His face looks fine, but as you quickly sit off to the side of him to assess the rest of his body, his hand moves to his face. “Oh geez”, he mutters. Glancing back up to his eyes as he sits up, a gush of blood pours out of the hand now clutching his nose. The rest of the team has gathered around you, and a couple people wince through their teeth at the amount of liquid pooling in his hand.

“Oh shit”, you let out without really meaning to. “Does anyone have a towel?” The team scrambles at the urgency in your voice, and without having to say anything else, a towel is plopped into your lap. You immediately move to replace Bob’s hand with the beach towel, holding it right beneath his nostrils which are simultaneously releasing blood.

Mav moves to bend down next to the two of you, “Here, let me see.” You take the towel away just for a second to let your dad inspect Bob’s nose as he looks up. There’s blood dripping over his lips and chin, prompting you to place the towel back.

“Is Penny working tonight?”, you ask, glancing back from the Hard Deck just beyond the sand.

“Yeah she should be in.”

“Good, I’m gonna take Bob up there and try to get this to stop bleeding.”

“Yeah, we should probably call it a day”, Mav replies as he places a hand under Bob’s elbow to help him up.

“No, I’m fine really”, Bob’s muffled and now nasally voice replies. “You guys keep playin’, I’ll go and take care of this.”

“You are not doing that by yourself”, you reply, almost amused at the fact he thinks he can get rid of you that easily. There’s no room for argument in your voice as you throw one of his arms over your shoulder to guide him up the sand to the bar. Phoenix steps in front of you before you leave.

“You got him?” She asks, her features twisted in a grimace as she examines his face.

“I’ve got him”, you reassure her as she watches you pass. Your arm is around his waist while his lies across your shoulders, and you’re trying ridiculously hard to focus on the task at hand instead of his warm body encasing yours. Bob on the other hand wants to tell you he can walk perfectly fine, but he doesn’t want to risk you letting him go. His nose is starting to throb, but all he can feel is your bare shoulders against his skin as your smaller hand grips his waist.

Once arriving at the bar, you walk through the glass door until Penny sees the two of you and rushes over.

“What happened?”, she asks as she watches you help Bob into the air conditioned building.

“There was a small crash”, you explain. “Do you have any towels or ice?” It’s still fairly early in the evening, the sun not setting quite yet, but the first patrons who have sat down in the bar look at the two of you with wide eyes.

“Of course”, she blinks as she moves behind the bar. “There’s a couch in my office, you can take him back there and I’ll get you something else to clean him up with.” You do as she says and open the door to her office, gently letting Bob sit down on the small loveseat, taking the seat next to him. He’s still holding the towel to his nose as he tries to lean back.

“Wait, you’re not supposed to tilt your head back”, you tell him. Gingerly placing your hand on the back of his head, you tilt him so he’s leaning forward slightly. With your other you’re lightly pinching his nose to help stop the bleeding while he holds the towel. Bob can’t help but think how you seem to already know every trick and quirk to stop the bleeding. How you must have had to clean up your own nose bleeds. 

Your brows have been in a constant furrow since the collision, and he takes in the way your teeth chew on your lip.

“Hey”, he tries to muffle through the towel. Your gaze shifts from his nose up to his eyes. “I’m ok, really.” You give him a doubtful look as you pinch his nose. Your elbow rests on his shoulder, hand still cradling the back of his head.

“How’s your head?” You ask in earnest.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet”, he responds as soon as you’re done asking. His comment causes you to crack a smile, clearing the furrow out of your brows as you laugh.

“You did not just say that to me”, you laugh. Bob laughs along with you as he tries to breathe through his mouth. Using his shoulder as support, you lean forward and laugh closer to him.

“Ok I’ve got-”, Penny walks in on the two of you, causing her to pause in the doorway, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah everything’s fine”, you wave off her concern

“Good… I’ve got some wet rags and a bag of ice.”

“Thank you”, you reply, still trying to stifle your laugh with Bob. Confusion is written all over her face as you turn back to her.

“Right, well… I’ll just be at the bar if you need anything else.” Your eyes are still crinkled from laughing, and Bob smiles at the notion. Your eyes meet his again through the same tinted lenses, warping the color of his irises. The dust settles from your laughing fit and it’s just the two of you in Penny’s cramped office, perched on the edge of the ratty old sofa she must have got in a garage sale. You’re still cradling the back of his head as your fingers absentmindedly play with the short hair. He sucks in a breath, stopping your movements.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, that’s not- No I’m fine”, you manage to hear him through the towel. Looking at the bright yellow tropical flowers of the cotton now stained in crimson, you slowly remove your fingers from his nose.

“Does it feel like it’s still bleeding?” Bob attempts to sniff through his nose as he takes the towel away from his face.

“No, I think we’re ok.” You wince at the sight of slightly-dried blood that is now smeared from his nostrils down his chin and neck. It’s soaked into the yellow of his t-shirt, leaving a stain you don’t think he’ll be able to get out easily. “That bad, huh?”

“No, not too bad”, you attempt to lie to him. Obviously not doing that great of  a job as he squints his eyes at you. Looking to get away from his playful glare, you eye a box of tissues just behind him. Reaching around him, you grab a few tissues and start to twist them.

“What are you doing?”

“We gotta plug you up.”

“Excuse- plug me up?” He laughs.

“Before we get all the blood off, we just gotta make sure it’s not gonna start bleeding again.” You hand him the first piece of tissue as he delicately places it in one nostril. “Otherwise you’re just gonna have to clean yourself up again.” He glances back up at you, this time with an unreadable gaze. Like he’s trying to study you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You eye him suspiciously as you hand him the other tissue. His eyes move to your fingers stained with his blood, and he looks away again in contemplation as you grab the wet rag.

“Seriously, what is it?” He shrugs.

“Nothing.” Huffing out a breath of frustration, you reach into the pocket of your gym shorts, taking a penny out and placing it in the palm of his hand. He smiles slightly at the notion of you just having this in your pocket, moving the penny to his crimson fingertips. The hint of a smile on his face is quickly replaced with a lopsided frown. “I- I’m sorry you know how to do all of this.” Your shoulders slump as he avoids your gaze. “And I’m sorry you have to do it again.”

“Bob- it’s ok.” You tell him softly, he glances back up, eyebrows twisted.

“It’s not though.. You shouldn’t be an expert at this.” Chewing your lip once more, you stare deeply into his eyes as they gaze back in worry.

“Bobby, I’m ok. I’m ok now and that’s what matters.” Bob is trying his best to believe you, but the image of you crying on the floor of the women’s locker room comes to mind. Then the feeling of your tears soaking his flight suit. You squeeze his hand around the penny once, gaining his attention once more.

“Ok”, he responds just above a whisper. You grant him a small smile in the silence that lingers, reaching back for the wet rag to clean him up with. It’s dried more since you’ve sat down, but you’re still just as gentle with your swipes across his chin. Glancing at his face, you notice there’s a couple specks of blood on the apples of his cheeks, almost underneath his frames.

“May I?” you ask, motioning to his glasses.

“Sure”, he breathes out. Your hands slowly rise and slide the glasses off his face, folding them and placing them gently on the table next to you. The breath is just about knocked out of your lungs as his wide, sky blue eyes blink at you for the first time without a barrier. You’re stuck for a moment in time, just admiring the color and how intently they look at you. You’re broken out of your trance as a drop of water from the rag slides down your hand, dripping on your lap.

Continuing where you left off, you dab at what was previously covered by his glasses, moving down beneath his nose and around his chin and mouth. The rag you were using is now stained a light red and you switch it out with the spare one Penny brought. The bar has gotten a little louder now as the day turns to evening, but it’s still muffled through the door and hallway. It’s quiet enough you can still hear Bob breathing so close to you. Your other hand gently nudges his chin upward so as to gain access to his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Once you’ve ensured his neck is clean, you look back on his face, hoping to get the spots you missed.

“You can look down now”, you whisper. You don’t know why you started talking so quietly, maybe to preserve a moment of silence you don’t get to enjoy so much, but as he looks back at you, you understand it’s just to preserve Bob. If you don’t disrupt the bubble you’ve put yourself in, it won’t burst. And you can stay in this moment with him for as long as you decide to. He doesn’t tell you he can clean himself up, even though both of you are thinking it. And you’re glad he doesn’t say anything. Right now it’s just the two of you, in this stolen moment in time where nothing else exists beyond the four walls of the dingy office.

Your hand moves instinctively to cradle his jaw, just to get a better hold on him while you wipe around his lips. With the rag wrapped around your finger, you swipe underneath the plush of his bottom lip, then over the top. Your eyes move slightly up, to check for any more blood, but catch sight of the tissues sticking out of his nose. It catches Bob off guard as you start to chuckle.

“What?” He asks this time. You lean back slightly, both hands now in your lap, to get a full view of his face and start to laugh a little harder. “What is it?” He presses, starting to laugh as well.

“You look absolutely ridiculous.”

“You’re the one who said I had to ‘plug myself up’”, he mocks, not meaning to laugh at the end of his sentence.

“At least it’s not a tampon up your nose”, you mutter. His brows raise at your comment.

“A what?”, he stammers.

“Would you believe me if I told you that Bradley’s mom shoved a tampon up his nose to get it to stop bleeding?” He chuckles in surprise, but also at the thought of a now adult Bradley with a tampon dangling out of his nose. “That was actually the first time I saw a bloody nose, I thought he was dying”, you smile at the memory.

“What happened?”, Bob asks. Setting the now bloodied rag next to the old one, you grab the bag of ice.

“Back in his old neighborhood he had some really annoying neighbor kids. Brad took me to the park, and these three eleven year olds would not let me swing on the damn swings. Then they started saying some really mean things, and that’s when Bradley stepped in. He told them to apologize to me and share the swings and they refused. He-”, laughing at the image you continue, “he shoved one of them off the swings, picked me up, and started to help me swing.” Shaking your head at the memory, you reach up and gently rest the ice pack against Bob’s nose as he watches your face the entire time. 

“Not five minutes later, all three kids are back, this time with their older brother. Keep in mind, Bradley was only twelve, and their brother was just about to start high school and absolutely huge. Brad tried to calmly explain what happened, but before he could get a word in, this guy decks him. I ran to the house to grab Carole, screaming that this kid was going to kill him. We raced back to the park, and once this guy saw a raging Carole Bradshaw running full speed towards him he sprinted the other way”, you smile.

“Bradley’s nose was bleeding and I just started bawling, thinking that this is it. He’s dying.” Bob laughs with you as you readjust the ice on his face. “We walked him back to the house, and the first thing she did was shove a tampon up his nose, while explaining to me that he was going to be fine.” Your laughing subsides as well as your own smile as you reminisce.

“Carole Bradshaw sounds like a woman that should not be messed with.” Bob comments, bringing your gaze back upon him.

“Yeah”, you sigh. “She was a fierce protector. They both were.” Bob’s hand searches for your own, squeezing softly.

“Mantis-”, whatever Bob is about to say is cut short as someone clears their throat from the door. The two of you look up to find Rooster, only this time Bob’s hand doesn’t stray from your own. It holds your fingers more firmly at the sight of him.

“Sorry”, Rooster interrupts. “Mav wanted me to check in, see how Bob’s doing.” He glances between your connected hands, then back at where you’re icing his nose. You clear your own throat this time as your hand retreats from its place in Bob’s.

“Yeah, he’s good. Blood’s stopped.”

“That’s good”, Rooster offers, trying to and failing to make this small interaction less awkward.

“Was that all?”

“Actually, um, Mav wanted to talk to you. Privately.” He adds on after glancing back at Bob.

“Fine. I’ll be out in a couple minutes.” He taps on the door before leaving the two of you alone again. You turn back to Bob, not looking him in the eyes as you place the ice pack in his hand.

“I guess duty calls.” You start to gather up the rags, but before you’re able to stand, Bob’s large fingers caress the back of your wrist to get your attention. He’s very mindful to not grab a hold of your arm as the hairs on the back of his hand tickle you.

“Hey, thank you.”

“You’re welcome”, you manage to breathe out. “I’m sorry I ran into you.”

“I’m not.”

After running to the bathroom to wash your hands off, there is still a wide smile on your face as you stare at yourself in the mirror. You check for any more blood, but decide it’s all gone as you attempt to squash your smile. The rest of the squad is sitting in the bar, each of them with more clothing on then they had earlier. Your eyes roam the room for your father, but come up empty. Rooster is standing  on the back deck outside, and you begrudgingly walk towards him. The door swings open and shut, muffling the noise from within.

“Where’s Mav?”, you ask, getting straight to the point. Rooster looks over his shoulder at you, setting his drink on a nearby table.

“He took Penny for a bike ride.”

“I thought you said he wanted to talk to me”, you ask, placing your hands on your hips.

“About that”, he scratches the back of his neck, “I meant to say that I needed to talk to you.” Rolling your eyes and giving him a scoff, you turn around, hand stretched toward the doorknob. “Mantis- please. Just give me five minutes.” And for some inexplicable reason. You don’t reach any further. You turn around, fold your arms, and give him the floor. He lets out a sigh of relief as you walk closer to the edge of the deck and watch the golden sunset.

“I want you to know that I’m apologizing because I really am sorry. It’s not just to keep the peace for Cyclone. I failed you.. And I failed my mom.” You turn towards him, and just for a second you don’t see the stone cold eyes that were set upon you just days ago, you see the sandy hair and soft hazel eyes of a brother who would do anything for you.

“It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen again.” He reiterates. Absent-mindedly you start chewing on your lip, and avoiding his eyesight. A part of you wants so deeply to forgive him and go back to how it used to be, but the other part is still hurt by what he did.

“Which is why I need you to listen to me. You can’t go down the path you’re already falling towards.” Your head slowly looks up as confusion clouds your features.

“What does that mean?”

“I know Cyclone chewed you out more after I left. We’re both on pretty thin ice here, and you worked so hard to get to where you are. I don’t want to see you throw it all away for someone else.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Your heart rate is steadily climbing, wondering if Rooster is about to go where you think he’s going to.

“I’ve noticed things. I’ve told you to be careful before, and now more than ever I wish you would please just listen to what I’m trying to tell you.” Swallowing, you turn back toward the coastline so he can’t read into what you’re trying to conceal in your face. “I see the way you look at him. The same way you’ve looked at boys you’ve had crushes on since you were little.”

“I am not some little girl, Rooster.” You seethe toward him, your face flushed in anger, embarrassment even at his accusations. “I grew up a long time ago, so whatever version you still have of me in your head, get rid of her. Cause she doesn’t exist anymore.” Shaking your head, you stalk toward the back door, catching a glimpse of Bob with his sunglasses on once again, the tissues since discarded, playing a game of pool with Phoenix and Fanboy. “And I don’t have a crush on him. Bob and I are just friends.”

“I never said his name.” Your blood runs cold at his words. You don’t dare turn back and give him the satisfaction of being right. “So you can keep lying to yourself all you want, but I already know the truth. All I’m trying to say is be careful, and remember why you’re here.”

You let Rooster’s words wash over you as you reach for the doorknob and let yourself back inside. How stupid could you be? Sure, you’ve perhaps come to terms that you maybe have more than friendship feelings for Bob, but you were never going to act on them. But now apparently Rooster can still see right through you. The mix of his and Cyclone’s warnings run through your mind as you get closer to the pool table and stand next to Phoenix.

You can tell she’s already a couple drinks in as her volume is a little louder than normal.

“Tell him, Mantis!”

“Tell him what?” She motions over to Bob as he watches Fanboy take his shot, shaking his head at her while he does so.

“Tell him to go on a date with Rachel’s hot friend!” Your eyes catch Bob smiling and shaking his head at her antics, obviously more amused with her drunken state than her words. His crooked smile makes you want to wrap him up in a hug so it never goes away, but you’re reminded of the warnings from Rooster and Cyclone. Repeating over and over in your head the longer you look at him.

“You should”, you tell him, as much as it pains you to say. He glances up at you, smile falling as his brows furrow the slightest bit. “Give her a chance at least.”

“Oh, ya think?” He asks, the slightest tone of disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah. It can’t hurt, can it?” And even though it is tearing you apart to say it, you do it anyway.

“I guess not.” You give him a slight smile, although it turns into more of a grimace the longer you hold it. He does the same to you, turning back to stare at the pool table with a hardened gaze, eyes not actually following where Fanboy’s ball runs to. Phoenix cheers out in glee at Bob’s acceptance, and you slip out the front door, saying your quick goodbyes. You pass Rooster at the bar, not giving him a second look as you make it to your car. Your heart aches at the thought of telling Bob to find happiness somewhere else, knowing damn well if the circumstances were different you would be first in line to offer it. Your brain reminds you however, you're making the right decision. It's the only decision. Right?

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

[wooawrites]

love or letter: wonwoo version

pairing: j. wonwoo x fem! reader

summary: hopeless in her endeavors, [name] turns to a radio show for love advice and somehow causes her situation to become worse.

word count: 10k+

genre: childhood friends to lovers, fluff

playlist

love or letter series

“Welcome to Love or Letter, a segment of BSS Radio Show dedicated to answering and advising our very own university students with their current (and maybe even future) romantic ailments! Depending on your story, we’ll either deem it a success by claiming it as a love or will call it a letter if our experts believe the sender should reconsider.”

Collective clapping could be heard in the background, courtesy of the grainy mics provided by the university. “Our first sender seems to have a pretty big problem—the paper is almost three pages long!”

Chuckles could be heard. “Wow, I’ve never had someone even send me a paragraph through text message.”

“That’s because you don’t have anyone to let them do that to you, DK.”

A chorus of shouting soon followed after, though a sharp hush ended the argument before it could continue, prompting the previous host to start speaking. “Dear Love or Letter team, my name is Sender A (F22) and I’m undoubtedly in love with my childhood friend (M22). He has always been a part of my life—from the minute he helped me to the bench when I scraped my knee at the local park to even now, where we both attend the university.”

“That’s so disgustingly cute.”

“But…”

“...But I think my childhood friend sees me more as a sister than he does a girl friend.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No. Girl space friend. Do you think Sender A would be writing to us if she was already his girlfriend, Seungkwan?” The host reading clears throat, ready to continue the note. “Whenever we go out, people always assume we’re related in some way since we’re roommates and apparently the only explanation for opposite sexes to become roommates is if one or both are gay or if they’re related.”

A hiss of annoyance followed soon after. “So outdated.”

“I know.”

“While I tend to correct people that we’re actually childhood friends, he, on the other hand, doesn't bother to correct anyone. In fact, he even seems to like that idea by mentioning that ‘it’s practically the same thing’ when I asked him why he never bothered correcting it to anyone.”

“Oof.”

“On top of this, he has a tendency to lean on me when it comes to relationship advice. He’s only dated a few girls casually here and there throughout our years of knowing each other all these years, however it's become more frequent ever since we started attending the university. While it’s not by much, I’ve heard enough of his stories about his previous girlfriends more than I’d like to admit and it doesn’t help with my situation.”

“Talk about a punch to the gut.”

“Right? Sender A continues by mentioning that she’s been wanting to say something to him but all these signals are pointing to a completely opposite direction and believes she might need to move out if something doesn’t get done. Sender A ends it with ‘I usually don’t ask three random strangers on a radio show to help make decisions like this, however none of my friends know about my situation. Please help me out, BSS Radio hosts. Sincerely, a hopeless romantic’. Man…”

“That’s tough. Thank you for choosing us to help you out though!”

“Dokyeom, you punk! They clearly said we were her last resort so speak carefully.” Seungkwan’s voice chimes in, followed by an irritated sigh. “From the sounds of things Sender A, you sound like you’re at odds with this situation at the moment. You want to tell someone you’ve known your whole life something serious while also keeping whatever dynamic it is you have the same, which will no doubt change if you do end up following through with your plans. In my opinion, I’d consider this a Letter, since you aren’t entirely sure how he feels yet.”

A hum followed, clearly agreeing with Seungkwan’s response. “I think this feels like this might be a Letter, too—but that doesn’t mean you should give up! Afterall, just because you don’t know how he feels doesn’t mean anything, right Hoshi?”

The host who had read let out a strained cough. “Y-Yeah… Definitely not the end of it just because we deemed it a Letter. Like Seungkwan said, you just seem unsure of your decisions and this Letter can turn into Love with the right course of action. This has been the Love or Letter segment of BSS Radio Show, onto other campus news—”

The quick shut down of the radio show invited the bustling noise coming from the cafe that [Name] had forgotten she was even in. Frustration bubbled up in her stomach as she thought back on the declaration of her current predicament. For a moment, she had the childish belief that the BooSeokSoon Radio hosts had the answer she actually wanted; that all came crumbling down as she listened to her submission being read out loud.

Embarrassment flooded through her as the story relayed in her head. Had it sounded that obvious he wasn’t into her? If it was, then why did she even bother sending that kind of message for a huge crowd to hear? [Name] could only ponder this question as she took a sip of her coffee, mouth pursing as the bitterness washed the piece of cake she had eaten just a few minutes ago.

Her eyes glanced over at the cafe’s door, body shaking in anticipation. She felt as if she had been at the cafe for hours on end, though she was sure it was only less than an hour. The radio show had taken up the majority of her time, her term paper long forgotten the minute she noticed an email saying BooSeokSoon would present her message for this week’s segment.

“A waste of time that is…” [Name] hissed under her breath, blowing at a fallen stray of hair.

“What’s a waste of time?” A voice asked. [Name] nearly froze in her spot, eyes flicking back to the door before going back to the owner of the voice, who stood so close, her face nearly ran into his stomach. [Name] gave him a slight shove, ignoring his humored chuckle and the fact he clenched his abdomen when her hand made contact with him.

“Being here and waiting for your class to end.” [Name] responded, motioning for him to sit across from her, a cup of coffee similar to her’s waiting for him. “I don’t know how you can enjoy that coffee so much. It tastes like sadness and dead poets.”

Wonwoo laughed. God it’s a cute laugh. “That’s… Actually a good way of putting it. How’d you figure out I was a tortured artist?”

[Name] watched him sit down, his larger frame towering over the small chair as he shifted. She almost laughed at how he hunched himself over, something he always had done since they were children to appear smaller than he originally would. However, it looked as if something was poking at his lower back and he was avoiding it.

No matter how many times [Name] pointed out to Wonwoo how strange he looked, he never failed to put himself into that position. She wasn’t sure if it was to be considerate of others or just to make her laugh at this point.

“Maybe because we’ve known each other for 15 years of our lives? Or you’re a literature major. And you dress like someone’s grandpa. You even sit like one—”

“I get it, I get it.” Wonwoo replied, raising his arms in surrender. He shuffled through his bag, pulling out his laptop and notebook, casting a glance at [Name]’s unopened laptop and earbuds. “Did you get any far with your paper?”

“Huh? Yeah, yeah…” [Name] said dismissively, looking away as she snatched her phone. Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at the action. As if on instinct, he offered his hand. “Won—”

“Phone. Now.” He commanded, face stern for a second before a pacifying smile made its way to his face. “Please. We made a deal, remember? No phone until you get a page done.”

“Yeah, yeah.” [Name] grumbled, handing her phone over to him, breath hitching for a second when she felt the tips of his fingers grazed her wrist lightly. Wonwoo let out a gentle thank you before shoving the phone into his pocket, a smile still settled on his face. He pulled out an earbud, handing one half over to [Name] as he played one of her favorite songs for the both of them.

Work followed soon after, [Name] typing furiously at her term paper while Wonwoo flicked through pages of a book written by some writer older than their own grandmothers. Every now and then, [Name] glanced across, taking in her friend’s appearance.

His hair was windswept from the autumn breeze, clearly slicked back just a few moments ago before entering the cafe. He had just recently changed his glasses prescription, finally listening to [Name] when she suggested a pair of circular glasses instead of his usual blocky choice. It framed his face nicely, highlighting his cheekbones whenever he smiled, though it always drew [Name] to look at his lips right afterward.

How can someone be so… Wonwoo? A strange way of putting it, yes, but what else was [Name] supposed to compare him to? She could imagine all the beautiful and fascinating things possible and all of that pales in comparison to him. For some reason she couldn’t make up her mind if he was one or the other at this point.

“Were you listening to the BSS Radio Show again?” He asked all of a sudden, making [Name] jump back to look at her paper again just in case he looked away from his book.

“It’s scary how well you know me so well.” [Name] commented with a shiver.

“What’s so interesting about their radio show anyways? I’ve never seen you pay attention to that until now.”

[Name] knocked her fingers against his, a smirk etched on her face. “Maybe I think one of the hosts is cute. Y’know one of them, Seokmin, is in my Speech 101 class?”

Wonwoo frowned at the notion, gently flicking his fingers at the tips of her’s as a response. “You can’t even talk to someone if you find them remotely attractive.

That’s what you think. [Name] stuck her tongue out at him. “They’ve got… Insightful moments.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “They only say insightful things when they’re doing Love or Letter, which I know you definitely don’t listen to.”

[Name] almost threw up at the mention of that dreaded segment. She straightened her back at the comment, however. “What’s that supposed to mean? That I’m not romantically available?”

Wonwoo gave her a shocked look. “No—like, I mean like you’re not the type to be into listening to that kind of show.”

“What type of person do you see me as then?” [Name] challenged, eyes glinting for a moment as she gave Wonwoo a pointed look as he opened and closed his mouth for a second. For a second she wondered if he understood her double meaning, her thoughts completely flying out the window when he let out a sigh of defeat.

“I offended you, didn’t I?” Wonwoo asked. “Sorry, I just meant to say that you usually don’t pay attention to people’s plights for entertainment, especially if it’s personal like romantic issues.”

This idiot. Maybe [Name] shouldn’t stick to dropping hints. If she continues on with this kind of confession style, Wonwoo would most likely be in a grave by the time she has the courage to confess her feelings. [Name]’s stomach dropped at the idea. She wasn’t sure she wanted to wait that long; she’s waited long enough.

“Wonwoo—”

“Oh my God, Wonwoo is that you?” A new voice chimed in, making [Name] stop her words, glancing over at a girl—a pretty girl—waving her hand at the lines their way. [Name]’s stomach nearly dropped as she watched Wonwoo’s face light up and wave an arm in return, pushing himself off his seat.

“I’ll be right back.” Wonwoo said quietly, making sure to be quick with his strides as went up to talk to the girl. A frown settled on [Name]’s face as she recalled him never being so hasty with his actions with her like he had with the girl. She did her best to go back to the paper instead of putting all her attention on the two people in front of her, who looked painfully good together.

His mouth was quirked up, being attentive to whatever the pretty girl was telling him by providing a nod or simple response to her as they spoke. They didn’t speak for long, Wonwoo pointing at their shared table. [Name] cast her eyes back at the screen, pretending to be focused on her essay instead of them. Her eyes didn’t let up from the screen until she noticed Wonwoo come back, a content look etched on his face.

“Friend of yours?” [Name] teased, half hoping he’d give her information and the other half to dispel the drop in her gut as she thought of the best and worst things possible.

Wonwoo only let out a hum, smiling down at his work. That certainly wasn’t an answer [Name] expected. Or wanted, for that matter. She wasn’t sure what to respond with so she made sure to look back at her own work, typing nonsense instead of actual meaningful words that might help affect the course of her grade.

The silence lasted for only a moment, however, as Wonwoo’s gaze lifted towards her, eyes alight as he asked, “What did you wanna ask me again?”

“Huh?”

“Before I went up to Chaewon. You had something to say to me, right?”

[Name]’s mouth fell open for a moment, unsure of her circumstances anymore. If it had been just a moment ago, she was sure to have told Wonwoo about her affection. After witnessing his reaction to that girl—Chaewon—though…

“I… Can’t remember.” [Name] said, feigning an apologetic smile. Wonwoo only let a hesitant nod, eyes not leaving her face. Unwavering, [Name] motioned to his book. “You better keep reading unless you expect the book to write your analysis, do you?”

An exhausted sigh escaped [Name]’s lips once she found herself shutting the door of her apartment. If she hadn’t been at school or studying for exams, she found herself working on campus, a task that is almost as exhausting as studying and attending classes.

If it hadn’t been for the millions of accidents coupled with the slow coworkers, maybe her work day wouldn’t have been as stressful as it had been that day. [Name] could already feel her eyes drop heavily as soon as she stepped foot into the comforts of her home. She had almost missed Wonwoo lounging in the living room had she been any more tired.

“Welcome back.” Wonwoo greeted, a smile erupting when [Name] groaned in reply. She wasted no time tossing herself over the couch he was sitting on, staring at the ceiling as she felt Wonwoo’s leg shake beneath her head from the laugh he let out. For a second, [Name] shut her eyes, relishing in the laugh. “That tired, huh?”

“You don’t even know. How can someone be in their twenties and not know how to be an effective worker? Am I in some alternate universe where I’m in a constant state of being Punk’d?” [Name] complained, not stopping to take a breath as she let her bottled up irritation finally burst. A hum could only be heard from her friend, urging her to continue. 

“Not to mention how irritating customers can be—ugh, don’t even get me started on them, Woo. One of them got mad when I asked if she already purchased an item that was set aside and started grilling me on some bullshit about ‘not believing her’. I was just making sure she bought the item! The nerve of some people…”

“That sounds frustrating.” Wonwoo agreed, reaching out to grasp at the hair tie on [Name]’s head and gently pulling it off. A hand ran through her hair, putting a pause on [Name]’s rambles. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way—Wonwoo basically giving her a massage to help destress. She kept her eyes closed either way. She was unsure if she wanted to risk getting a good look at her best friend, who was most definitely staring at her right now.

She wasn’t sure why it was such a habit of his—the incessant staring. It was a bad habit Wonwoo had; [Name] lost count of how many times she had to drag him out from places when his staring habit put him into unnecessary trouble.

[Name] hadn’t minded his staring—he was usually lost in his own thoughts and not bothering her since he was so quiet. Not to mention he had killer massaging skills.

She opted to let the silence continue. Wonwoo seemed to not mind, equally enjoying her presence as much as she had with him. His fingers, deft and soft, worked out the tangles in her hair. He was careful to be gentle when facing harsh knots, massaging at the tender spots if he tugged too hard, earning a small hum in appreciation of his efforts.

“You’re spoiled, you know that right?” Wonwoo suddenly commented. [Name] responded with a sharp slap to his knee. “Ow! I’m just saying! Who gets treated like this by their roommate?”

“Oh so we’re just roommates now, huh?” [Name] teased, opening her eyes. “Let’s just throw away a decade worth of friendship. I see how it is, you heartless jerk.”

“Ahh, you gaslighter.” Wonwoo groaned, poking her side in retaliation. A laugh escaped from [Name], fighting off his hands as she tried to get herself off of her friend. He seemed to have known what she was doing, though, from the way he dropped his other arm to wrap around her shoulders and bring her to his side to keep poking at her sides with his other one.

“Woo, I swear to God—AH!” [Name] shrieked, smacking at his arms to get him away from her after his fingers coincidentally found its way to a certain spot that made her laugh a little harder than she liked. “I swear if you tickle me anymore I will be putting honey in your hair while you’re sleeping.”

“Oh really?” Wonwoo asked, turning her over and holding her arms in place.

“Yes really—”

Her voice caught in her throat as Wonwoo looked down to stare at her. Usually, she had been pretty good at hiding her feelings toward him—a quick change in facial expressions when she caught herself smiling for too long when he was failing at cooking eggs in the mornings, keeping her glances fleeting when they studied together, opting to tease him instead of complimenting his appearance to keep up with appearances.

[Name] wasn’t exactly sure how she could evade this moment. Or if she even wanted to move at the sight in front of her. Wonwoo had clearly been home hours before [Name] came home. Besides the soft pajamas underneath her head, his hair had not been touched and was angled every which way. His glasses looked like they were on the verge of falling as he kept his gaze down toward her. It didn’t help that his chest—Jesus, did his chest always feel that muscular?—was taking deep breaths, clearly just as winded as she was of their wrestling match.

The sight was endearing. She was more than sure Wonwoo could do anything and make it look beautiful in her eyes, though, so she might have a bit of a bias. [Name] chewed at her lip as an all too familiar thought passed through her head. Now’s your chance. Her mouth opened for a split second, trying to form the words she’s been so desperate to let out for the past few months.

“I’d consider this a Letter, since you aren’t entirely sure how he feels yet.”

A Letter. A chance of rejection is probably high. Should she really risk a friendship over a love confession? Maybe. It’s highly tempting, especially with how he looks right now—so effortlessly handsome, it was irritating, honestly.

Wonwoo’s eyes softened for a brief moment. Carefully, he brushed the tips of his fingers against her cheek to grab her attention. “You good?”

[Name] felt her throat dry up, immediately getting up from her spot. “Y-Yeah. Just remembered I need to take a shower. I’ll make dinner tonight!”

Wonwoo looked as if he were ready to reach out a hand to stop her, but [Name] made sure to keep a distance from him. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty worn out today, though. I can make—”

“No, it's fine! I’ll get my energy back after I wash the stink out of me. I’ll be back soon!” [Name] interrupted, making her steps quick as she turned around to run to the bathroom.

Once she found herself in their shared bathroom, [Name] slid down the door in a huff. Her heart was nearly ready to jump out of her chest as the moment replayed in her head. She could feel her face heat up as she remembered her original task of confessing, which was a complete failure again.

“I’m so screwed…” She whispered to herself.

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since [Name]’s embarrassing attempt of admitting her feelings to Wonwoo. The moment replayed in her head more times than she’d like to admit, constantly beating herself up at missing the opportunity of confessing again.

“Hey, if you’re going to have that lovesick look on your face all day, you might as well take the rest of the day off. You’re gonna scare the customers.” Chan chastised, words harsh, but the smile on his face indicated he wasn’t at all irritated in the slightest.

[Name] huffed. “I do not look lovesick.”

Chan snorted in response. “You must think I’m stupid then.” A crumpled up coffee filter found its way bouncing off his dark hair and a blank stare from the girl as a response. Chan let out a sigh. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable. You just seem… Sad lately.”

“Sad?” [Name] inquired, Chan nodding. It had only been a week and half since [Name]’s second failed attempt at her confession and if she were to be honest, [Name] was a little upset with herself after she managed to overcome her embarrassment. The moments continued to relay in her head, letting her self pity overtake at times.

But was she that obvious? [Name] worried if Wonwoo ever caught on; he always had a tendency to read the room, especially when it came to her. He always seemed to understand when she was overdoing or uncomfortable before she was even able to comprehend her emotions. What’s the possibilities if he picked up on her recent habits? A high chance, only making her question why hadn’t he mentioned anything to her?

This only sparked her worrisome behavior even more, eyebrows furrowing further, though she wasn’t able to spiral any further when the sensation of a sharp poke to her forehead brought her back down to reality. “Ow?” [Name] prompted, hand covering her forehead as she looked at Chan.

“You’re doing it again.” He admonished, frowning too. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Honestly? No, not really.” [Name] admitted, leaning back to watch the entrance of the café to see if anyone had walked in yet. “It’s kinda complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“A guy kind of complicated.”

“Ah…” Chan hummed. “I have no idea what that means.”

[Name] only groaned quietly, fighting off the urge to waste any more work products to throw at her younger coworker’s head. “Nevermind. It’s hard to explain.”

“We’ve got five hours until our shift ends. I think I can grasp difficult concepts.” Chan reassures, chest puffing up proudly

“Fine, fine. I don’t even know where to start. There’s this guy…”

[Name] wasted no time explaining her hopeless conundrum—her seemingly unrequited love to the Love or Letter segment and even the embarrassing, half-hearted attempts of her confessions. 

Surprisingly, Chan managed to keep up with her, despite her lack of tracking with the timeline and needing to run back and forth between explanations. She’d pause for a second, watching to see if he was even hearing her despite his nods, receiving encouraging hums whenever they made eye contact. 

For some reason, this brought her to relax more as she began to speak freely. At one point, she even brought up the Chaewon girl from their study session (or study “date” from Chan’s point of view—again, he was served a hit to the leg with [Name]’s towel). Chan had been kind enough to provide a third party viewpoint, mentioning that she could more likely have been a project partner with Wonwoo and nothing more.

By the time she finished, [Name] could almost feel the tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She hadn’t exactly expected herself to pour her thoughts and feelings into one night, albeit someone she hadn’t really expected—the sarcastic first year Lee Chan who always seemed to keep himself guarded with his own feelings despite having the most expressive display of emotions.

“Wow…” Chan said. “That sounds like a lot of unnecessary stress.”

“Lee Chan…”

“But I can see why you’re so caught up on your feelings about him.” Chan said, making [Name] raise her eyebrows at him. “Trust me, I’m having similar issues. I’m honestly making more mistakes than you.”

[Name] only nodded as a response, knowing when to not ask questions.  “Idiots in love.” She sighed out in despair, Chan holding out a fist for her to bump in solidarity.

“Idiots in love.” The younger man chanted back. “I think you should tell him, though. Despite getting a Letter.”

“...Why though?” [Name] asked, a look of horror crossing her face.

“Because you’re undeniably in love with this guy and from the sounds of things he’s acting like you’re the center of his universe.”

Chan was quick to dodge the towel thrown at his head. [Name] could only watch as the towel dropped on the ground, not ready to move just yet as she fought off the embarrassment rising from her neck.

“You—I—What part of me saying anything to you made you think that?" [Name] asked.

Chan only patted her shoulder. "You're literally hopeless. How are you about to graduate in less than a year?"

"I'm being practical."

"You're being in denial." Dino corrected, head turning when the sound of a door squeaking came to life. "If you're not going to accept it, let's just go back to work."

[Name] didn't respond, only watching as Chan walked up to the register to greet customers. Her? The center of Wonwoo's universe? In what way did she make it sound like that? [Name] could only scoff at the comment, turning away to continue with work, doing her best to find herself engrained in her tasks instead of Chan's words.

From [Name] 😒:

at the location. where are you? Sent 07:50 PM

From Wonwoo:

close by. why did i have to grab the blanket? hao was already at the apartment looking for something you asked him to get 😭 Sent 07:50 PM

From [Name] 😒:

wasnt answering my text. where now? Sent 07:52 PM

Wonwoo let out a sigh at the last text. Impatient as always. Especially when she was excited about something, It’s almost as bad as her memory when she’s in a hurry, which also seems to be something she does when she’s excited. 

He wasn’t exactly sure how many times he had to head back to their apartment to retrieve whatever it was [Name] forgot on her way to the campus grass but he hadn’t bothered to count after she frowned at him when a refusal almost slipped off the tip of his tongue.

“You’re lucky we’re friends.” Wonwoo grumbled as he handed off his backpack to [Name], who was gracious enough to offer to hold it so he didn’t need to drag it back to their home. He watched as [Name] hiked the large bag onto her shoulders, a smile forming when he noticed how much the bag stuck out from her, reminding him of a snail.

He was careful to tug off a strand of hair that was trapped under a strap as [Name] smiled up at him. “Don’t act like you don’t treat everyone with the same fake courtesies.” She teased, knocking her fist onto his arm.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes in response. “With you, I don’t think I can treat you the same way as everyone else.”

He had left shortly after that, not wanting to see [Name]’s face when he said the last part, which almost sounded as awkward as when he thought of it. Wonwoo could have died right then and there if he didn’t turn to run back to their apartment. His brain hadn’t allowed him to stop thinking about it until he got a call from Minghao, who they both deemed trustworthy enough to have a key for their apartment, mentioning he was inside to retrieve another item [Name] left behind and needed to have.

They had spent less than five minutes looking for the items before trudging back, Wonwoo with a bag full of chips and blanket and Minghao with [Name]’s portable charger in their hands. Wonwoo struggled to text [Name] back, mentioning they were nearing the clearing on campus where they agreed to meet everyone else.

“You know she can wait on that text, right?” Minghao reminded him. “Your chips are about to fall.”

Wonwoo was quick to hit send before readjusting his hold on the chips. “Yeah I know. I guess I’m just used to responding so quickly to [Name] I don’t want her to think I’m ignoring her or anything.”

Minghao hummed. “[Name] always takes forever to respond with my messages.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah. It took her a day to respond to a message from me asking what she wanted from the nearby bakery.”

The last time [Name] had taken so long to respond to him was only an hour because she was out on a lecture. “Huh…”

Minghao only opted to shoot an expressionless smile at Wonwoo’s curious hum, speeding up when he took notice of Jun’s towering figure next to [Name]. Minghao muttered something to Jun quickly in Mandarin, prompting the older man to land a slight nudge to his shoulder as a wordless response.

[Name] let out a laugh at the banter, making Jun offer an embarrassed smile in response. Wonwoo couldn’t help but frown at the small interaction, a feeling in his gut dropping. It disappeared once [Name] recognized him moving closer to them, the grin on her face never leaving as she ran up to him.

She tugged the blanket off his hand. “I promise I don’t need anything anymore.”

Wonwoo only shot her a doubtful look as they spread the blanket out together. Once all four were settled down, [Name] was quick to make the center of the blanket her spot, laying down as she stared up at the empty sky.

“How much longer?” She grumbled at Wonwoo, who settled himself to her right.

“So impatient.” Wonwoo jokes, prodding her side. [Name] squeaked, though she didn’t bother moving away from him, only keeping a hand on his wrist to keep him from doing anything else. “Vernon said they’ll start at 8:30. It’s still 8:20.”

[Name] groaned in response, rubbing her eyes. “I might be asleep by then…”

“Stay awake.” Wonwoo reprimanded, tugging her eyelid up.

“Gahhh.” [Name] grumbled, earning a “Gahh” back from Wonwoo. Regardless, she kept her eyes closed for a moment, breathing in the air. "When was the last time I laid down like this?"

"Summer before we started high school. Your brother threw a mud pie at your face and you went to my house for some reason to cry about it." Wonwoo responded. From beside them, he spotted Jun and Minghao engrossed in their own conversation, both their eyes shifting to a pair of girls on their phones a few blankets away.

"That's because I knew you'd  let me play your games out of pity." [Name] responded, laughing at the memory. "I can't believe you even remember that."

"I remember a lot of things."

"Hopefully I'm in most of them." [Name] respondes cheekily, scooting closer to Wonwoo to nudge his shoulder.

Actually you're all of them. Wonwoo wanted to say, but he wasn't stupid enough to say that, despite it being the truth. No matter how far back he can fish for memory, [Name] was always a constant in every single one of them.

 In every good or bad moment Wonwoo experienced, he always managed to remember that [Name] was with him and would do something so spectacularly outrageous or kind that he couldn't help but etch her into his mind.

His stomach turned again, all those memories rushing back in, hyperfocused on [Name]'s presence than whatever life lesson he was supposed to learn from them. He kept his gaze up at the sky, hearing a loud whizzing noise shoot up before colors burst out of seemingly thin air.

Everyone gasped. Jun's mouth dropped open wider and wider at the fireworks, grinning excitedly at Wonwoo when their eyes met for a brief period. Minghao was nowhere to be seen—Wonwoo guessed it might have to do with one of the girls he and Jun were eyeing.

Wonwoo let himself get lost at the bright skyline, marveling at the colors illuminating the campus fields. Whistles from other groups were heard, making Wonwoo laugh at their amusement.

“Ahhh, there’s always fireworks for any event the university hosts and everyone acts like it’s the first time anyone’s seen them.” Wonwoo jokes.

He had half expected [Name] to just hum or say a joke in passing, too occupied with the fireworks to hear what he’s saying. No such actions were made. Wonwoo turned his head down, curious to her silence, but was quick to learn why.

“Of course you fall asleep before the fireworks.” Wonwoo whispers to her, brushing off the curtain of hair that fell over her face. Everything was completely still for him, the sounds of cheering and fireworks falling deaf to Wonwoo’s ears as he watched a newer, more fascinating sight.

[Name]’s breathing was heavy and deep; a clear sign she hadn’t been sleeping too well. Wonwoo should be concerned at the thought, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the chance to see her this way—so relaxed, so unguarded around him. 

Recently, [Name] seemed so… Distant. Wonwoo wasn’t sure if it was something he had done and she was just waiting for him to acknowledge any mistake he made or if she was just preoccupied with school and he was reading too much into her actions. Regardless, he felt as if he hadn’t seen his best friend in forever and he was just seeing her now—beautifully flawless despite her antics.

A breeze passed by, making [Name] shiver. She stirred only slightly, though, turning her body to the closest heat source: him. Wonwoo didn’t fight against her as she curled herself into his side, letting out a sigh of relief once her head pushed itself to his shoulder.

Wonwoo froze only for a second—majority of that second consisting of him internally screaming like some lovesick school girl—before he maneuvered his arm carefully around her back, pulling her closer to him as he wrapped his arms around her.

[Name] was quick to move her head onto his chest instead of his shoulder at the new position, her arms wrapping around his middle and her legs tangling with his by the time Wonwoo finished adjusting himself. Again, Wonwoo let himself stop moving for a moment to internally wonder what life he saved in his past life to put himself into this position.

“Oh?” A voice beside him says. Wonwoo peaks over the mass of hair in front of him to see Jun grinning their way, not paying attention to the fireworks anymore.

“Shut up.” Wonwoo warned, eyes narrowing behind his glasses.

“I didn’t say anything.” Jun defended.

“Just shut up anyways.”

Jun rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the fireworks with a smirk. “Whatever. Text me once you tell her how you feel by the way. I made a bet with Hao and I wanna pool in my prize money.”

Wonwoo felt his jaw drop. “You made a bet on my love life?”

“Yeah,” Jun admitted with a shrug. “Don’t worry, though. Once you’re done with your little pining we can make a bet against Hao and that one girl he’s working with. Something tells me he’s worse than you about admitting his feelings to someone.”

“You—”A groan could be heard beside Wonwoo as he started talking. [Name] was stirring in her sleep, clearly feeling his voice reverberating against his chest as he spoke. Wonwoo was quick to stop himself, squeezing [Name] gently to keep her from waking up. “You’re lucky she’s asleep.”

Jun chuckled. “You’re lucky she’s asleep.”

Damn Jun. Was the only thought that went through Wonwoo’s head. He gave up on his argument with Jun, half afraid of waking [Name] and half afraid of admitting the truth that, yes, he’s the biggest idiot alive for not realizing until now just how undeniably in love he is with his childhood friend and all those years of him watching her back wasn’t just out of friendly courtesy.

By the time the fireworks died out, Wonwoo was still pondering on his next move. Minghao came back, a small smile edging on his usually stoic face. He made no argument against Jun as they helped pack Wonwoo and [Name]’s stuff while the taller of the three men woke [Name] up.

“Hey, come on.” Wonwoo urged, grinning when [Name] opened her eyes. “We have to go back home.”

“Did I miss the fireworks?” [Name] grumbled, staring at the nearly empty field. Wonwoo nodded. “Damn…” She knocked her head against his chest. “At least you’re a really comfortable pillow.”

God take him now. “Thanks.”

[Name] groaned as she picked herself up, offering a hand to Wonwoo to help him up. She only offered small conversation with Jun and Minghao, too focused on trying to find her footing after napping for so long. Wonwoo was quick to put an arm on her shoulder, leading as best as possible.

He shot Jun and Minghao a warning look when he heard one of them snicker to one another, conversing in Mandarin through hushed whispers (though, he was more than sure he heard [Name] and the word money be passed around a bit).

“You okay?” [Name] asked suddenly, making Wonwoo jump at her sudden concern. [Name] gave him a funny look. “You look constipated.”

“I’m fine.” Wonwoo said, voice a little too stiff for his liking. [Name] didn’t seem to buy into it either, though she didn’t bother to push further, most likely for privacy’s sake.

“Whatever you say…”

Wonwoo let a comfortable silence they were familiar with wave through them, the scraping of their sneakers against the pavement being the only sounds to come from them. Every now and then, he shot glances their way, watching as [Name]’s eyes blinked a little too hard at street lights.

Heh. Cute.

“What?”

“Huh?” Wonwoo asked, heart hammering out of his chest as he realized he just verbalized a very, very private thought. “I said, ‘Huh. Cool.’ at that star over there.”

[Name] glanced up at the sky, a frown on her face as she attempted to find whatever star it was Wonwoo was pointing at. “I don’t see a star—”

“You’re just blind then.”

“You—!”

She was about to cry. He didn’t even need to look at her to tell that she was crying; he could hear her sniveling all the way from the kitchen. Peaking over the window counter, Wonwoo glanced over at [Name] narrowing her eyes at her computer screen.

Yeah, she's definitely going to cry. And she definitely hadn’t eaten yet. No matter how many times Wonwoo warns her about her health, [Name] had a tendency to avoid eating until she was finished with whatever assignment it was she was working on. And crying was just a natural response out of her for papers at this point—meaning she was dehydrating and starving herself at this point.

Wonwoo glanced at his plate, which consisted of a sloppy looking burger at what Mingyu had attempted to teach him earlier.

“How can someone so independent be so useless at something like cooking?” He remembered Mingyu complaining after another failed attempt at making a burger with him the other night. Wonwoo had essentially trapped his poor underclassman, under the guise of offering to edit his literature papers for the rest of the next semester if he helped him achieve the impossible: cooking a decent meal.

“What even made you want to do this in the first place? You never found it interesting until now.”

“Something came over me.”

“Well let’s hope it passes over soon because you’re an impossible student at this point.”

Wonwoo was surprised he hadn’t managed to burn down a portion of their kitchen when he made the meal. Still, it didn’t stop the fact it looked like it was going to come to life at some point.

He sighed. “Even I wouldn’t eat something like this…” He mumbled, looking over at [Name], who is still engrossed in her paper. Her hair was down, a sight he was the only one he was able to see often since she kept it tied up and away when they weren’t at home. Her eyes were watering, from the computer screen or tears of frustration, Wonwoo wasn't sure anymore. 

[Name]’s lips were chapped too, obviously neglecting any water despite the water gathering behind her eyes. She licked at them in an attempt to ignore the growing sahara in her throat. Wonwoo swallowed down his nervousness, the burger thrown into the trash and a cold glass of water in his hand as he made his way to [Name].

Gently, he placed the water against the back of her neck, causing her to jump up with a scream. [Name] gripped at her laptop screen as she spun around, eyes wide awake now. Wonwoo could only offer a dismantling smile, offering the water to her wordlessly. [Name], still quite offended at his sudden presence, took it gratefully, chugging the water without question and setting it down on the table.

“Let’s get some food.” Wonwoo suggested, nudging her arm with his hand gently.

Surprisingly, those words alone were enough (or it could have been the part when Wonwoo offered to pay for her meal). Wonwoo could only watch in amazement as [Name] seemed to have some sort of skip to her step as they made their way to their favorite restaurant, a hole in the wall noodle shop known to be open in the late hours.

The server, an older woman who seemed to practically live there, offered a smile and wave to the both of them as she set a bowl down to a table where a lone man sat. “It’s been a while.”

“It’s the time for finals.” [Name] admitted, flinching when Wonwoo placed his large hand on her head.

“I’m just dragging her out to eat.”

The older woman smiled. “How sweet of you. I’ll get your usuals out and you can take a seat anywhere.”

Both nodded, situating themselves against a wall as they sat and waited for their food. [Name] mindlessly tapped at the table, humming an English song—Taylor Swift?—to herself as she examined the people in the restaurant. Her eyes stopped a little longer at the table the woman stopped at earlier, eyes narrowing slightly as she examined the man.

Wonwoo recognized him, but wasn’t entirely sure where exactly he was from. Regardless, it’s hard to even notice him with the copious amounts of black he’s covered himself in, making him blend into the dark wall. A red watch was around his wrist, which seemed to constantly light up with messages he didn’t bother to look at as he sipped mindlessly at his noodles.

A frown settled on his face as [Name] continued to stare, though he bit back whatever jealousy was bubbling up in him. “You think he’s cute?” Wonwoo teased, hoping the smile on his face didn’t match the bitterness he bit back.

[Name]’s widened, face morphing to embarrassment. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting him to be watching her long enough to notice. “No! Nothing like that; I just know him. He’s one of the producers for BooSeokSoon Radio. I can’t remember his name. Lee Jimin?”

“Jihoon.” Wonwoo corrected, finally remembering him. “Isn’t he the one that got popular around campus because Hoshi posted a selfie with him when he wasn’t looking?”

“Yeah and everyone thought he was hot?” [Name] whispered quietly. They both looked back this time, examining the man’s side profile. “I mean, they aren’t wrong.”

She laughed when she felt Wonwoo tug at a strand of her hair. “Superficial.”

“I’m just saying something we’re all thinking, Woo.” [Name] answered with a cheeky grin. Wonwoo rolled his eyes, though the bitterness was well pushed aside in favor of the easy going conversation.

Time flew by as they continued to speak, most of it being meaningless conversations, though Wonwoo hadn’t minded. He wasn’t much of a talker, meaning [Name] was the one who continued with the rambles and he was more than willing to not talk if it meant just watching and listening to her.

It seemed like forever when the food arrived. Wonwoo wasn’t exactly concerned with however long it took, if he were to be honest, but something in his stomach flipped when he watched [Name]’s eyes widen in excitement when favorite noodles were placed in front of them. [Name] made sure to smile up at the old woman and provided a grateful thank you before turning to her food.

Wonwoo watched her push her loose hair out of the way as she slurped at the noodles, not caring how messy it looked. She had been hungry and clearly hadn’t realized until now. A laugh almost escaped him at how her cheeks looked filled with noodles. Kind of like a chipmunk. A very cute chipmunk.

[Name] turned her eyes up, nearly making Wonwoo’s eyes widen when he realized two things: 1) He had yet to put his head down to eat his own noodles and 2) he was definitely smiling like an idiot right now.

“You okay?” [Name] asked curiously.

Wonwoo only nodded, wordlessly dipping down to eat his meal, so he wouldn’t be able to say no, he most definitely wasn’t okay. Especially when someone like her was always around him and he couldn’t seem to find any sort of courage to do anything about it.

“Wonwoo’s acting weird.” [Name] muttered. She was currently frowning at her paper, eyes practically glued to her computer. Chan nodded, clicking at his keyboard loudly as he listened to her.

After [Name]’s cry session with him, their friendship had graduated past the usual ones co-workers fall into—polite conversations turned into confession nights about their respective tumultuous love lives. Chan liked to call it a newly found kinship, while [Name] liked to call this an emotional support coworker situation.

There were even a few times both met outside of work settings to study together when no one else was able to come with them, like right now. They were sitting in a library, [Name] mulling over her research paper while Chan studied for his physiology final.

“What do you mean by that?” Chan inquired.

“He’s just been… Weird.” [Name] frowned at the word, not liking the sound of it to describe the taller man, though she hadn’t been wrong.

It was no secret that Wonwoo was quiet. But not as quiet as he’s been as of recent. [Name] could be sitting in their living room or eating whatever was left in their fridge in the kitchen and she wouldn’t notice him suddenly standing behind her, which frightened her a little too much.

Naturally, she would chastise him for making her jump, but he’d only reply with a quiet apology with a follow of silence afterwards once he made himself comfortable. 

His eyes were always seemingly focused elsewhere, too. Wandering or gliding somewhere else whenever she found herself staring at him. Usually [Name] would come to some kind of conclusion as to why he was acting so differently, but even after a week of trying to figure him out, she couldn’t figure him out.

“Maybe he’s mad at you.” Chan suggested, eyes still trained on his notes.

“Mad at me for what?” [Name] muttered, mainly to herself. A buzz from her phone brought her back, looking down and sighing as she read her text. “Speak of the devil.”

Chan lifted his head, eyes trained on [Name] as she typed a response to Wonwoo. A grin spread on her face as her phone buzzed again from whatever message it was Wonwoo sent back to her. “Jesus, just date the man already. You’re grinning like an idiot. Also, you said no phones until 7:00PM.”

[Name] rolled her eyes. “It’s 6:54.”

“Yeah. Still not 7:00PM.” Dino responded, holding his hand out, to which [Name] maneuvered herself away from him. “Hey, you can’t break the rules!”

“It was a roommate situation.”

“A roommate situation or a Wonwoo is the one texting situation?”

[Name] offered a glare his way. “Roommate. Apparently something happened with the air conditioning in our apartment and we need to talk to our landlord, like, right now.”

Chan narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to see if she was fibbing. He let out a sigh, waving his hand away. “Yeah, yeah. Go deal with it then. You better be finished with your paper by the time I see you again.”

“Yeah, yeah…” [Name] said dismissively, packing her bag quickly. 

She nearly lost her grip on the bag, however, when Chan added. “And you better turn that Wonwoo texting situation into a Wonwoo kissing situation.”

“Chan—”

“Bye.”

Chan turned his head down, popping an earbud into his ear, visibly turning the volume up on his laptop so he couldn’t hear her anymore. [Name] muttered a quiet groan, face heating up as she stomped out to make her way to her shared apartment with Wonwoo.

From [Name]:

how exactly bad is the a/c situation? Sent 06:58PM

From Wonwoo 😶:

tundra. Sent 06:59PM

From [Name]:

…what? Sent 06:59PM

“Yeah, your A/C is broken.” The landlord commented. [Name] only blinked at him while Wonwoo could only respond with a stiff nod.

“Well… Duh.” [Name] said, motioning to her and Wonwoo, who were both covered head to toe in the fuzziest blankets known to man. By the time [Name] made her way home, Wonwoo had been near the door to drape a blanket over her and offer a warning that it was too cold to not have one on at the moment. “How long do you think it’ll take for the system to be fixed?”

The landlord hummed, not taking his eyes off his phone. An annoyed irk stung through [Name], only fighting off the urge to argue with him when Wonwoo placed a comforting hand on her lower back. Their eyes met briefly, [Name] clearly a bit confused but Wonwoo spoke up, albeit calmer in comparison to [Name].

“We just need to know so we can take precautions.” Wonwoo explained. “It’s starting to become colder outside and we’re at a higher part of the apartment complex…”

“I’d say maybe a week then.” The landlord said.

“A week…” [Name] mumbled to herself, wondering how they could possibly deal with something that long.

“I’d suggest maybe finding a friend to stay with for the time being or maybe even just rent a hotel room for now.” The landlord, making both only stare at him as a response. Clearly, he forgot they were college students living on a budget.

“We’ll manage.” Wonwoo said, proceeding to speak with the landlord while [Name] sat off to the side, doing her best to will the cold away with her blanket. She waited to say something until their front door closed and Wonwoo’s soft footsteps found themselves making their way toward [Name].

[Name] didn’t fight back when Wonwoo sat as close as possible to her, enjoying the heat that radiated off of him. “So… What now?”

Wonwoo only sighed, rubbing at the spot where his glasses sat as he tried to think. “I mean, if you’re really cold I’d say maybe follow the landlord’s suggestions? I can stay here and wait for when the electrician comes next week—”

“I’ll stay.” [Name] responded. “I’d feel bad if I left you alone here in the cold.”

Wonwoo nodded and they both slipped into an awkward silence. [Name] shifted slightly, not sure what to do next. Some part of her wanted to confront him, ready to ask him what was up with him for the past few weeks. Another part of her wanted to do something she’s been holding back on for so long: to confess.

From the corner of her eye, she can feel Wonwoo staring at her, as if anticipating something as well. [Name] bit at her tongue, deciding on neither as she picked herself up. “I’m going to get ready for bed. I’ll make sure to get you more blankets after I’m done.”

She walked off before she could hear Wonwoo talk. As much as she enjoyed his presence, the unaddressed pressure felt like it would have suffocated her if she stayed any longer. Maybe a warm shower might help calm her down? Maybe. [Name] wasn’t sure if something physical like that would help her in any way but it definitely was better than sitting and waiting for one of them to talk.

[Name] wasn’t sure how long she was in shower, but by the time she had been out, Wonwoo was already in his pajamas, pouring hot chocolate into two cups when she trudged into the kitchen. “Here. Drink it before you sleep.” Wonwoo offered, handing the warm cup into her hands.

Wonwoo was mesmerized. Well, for the past few weeks he’s been like that, a little mystified for his liking, but he couldn’t help it. No matter how small of a task she did, [Name] somehow managed to do it in her own kind of quirky way and Wonwoo picked up on every single habit.

Even when she was drinking the hot chocolate, he couldn’t help but notice the way [Name]’s fingers tapping at the ceramic cup every time she tilted the cup to tske a sip. He was sure his mouth dropped a little at the sight, but he was quick to close it when [Name] looked up at him. He averted his eyes to something else as well, not sure how he would react if she found him gaping at her like some lost puppy.

[Name] motioned a quick thank you, breathing in the sweet scent coming from the chocolate as she eyed the stovetop. “Did you try cooking again?”

Wonwoo was quick to hide the pan of eggs he accidentally burned earlier. “...No.”

“Jeon Wonwoo, what is with you and cooking these days?” [Name] chastised, walking around him, eyes widening in shock at the destruction behind his tall frame. She looked up at him, eyes filled with concern. “Are you sick of my cooking or something?”

“Wha—No!” Wonwoo countered. “I was just trying to learn so I could—”

He stopped mid sentence, biting back his next words. So I could impress you.

[Name] raised an eyebrow. “So you could…?”

“...cook for myself while you’re gone?” He said, hoping it sounded convincing enough.

[Name] examined him for a moment, eyebrows knit together as she processed his words.

“Are you sure?”

At this moment in time, Wonwoo wished he could just turn back time and not make up a lie like that again. “Mhm.”

“Okay then…” [Name] said, turning away, cup still in her hands. “Well, I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight.”

“‘Night.” Wonwoo said, keeping a stiff smile one his face until he couldn’t see her anymore. He dropped his head into his hands as he muttered to himself. “Jeon Wonwoo, you big idiot.”

[Name] wasn’t sure what else to do besides sleep. The energy meant for her paper flew out the window once she made it to her home. Most of it went into trying to think of their plan and the rest went into figuring out the mystery that is Jeon Wonwoo. If it hadn’t been so cold in her room, [Name] would have gotten a headache by now.

“Is he mad at me? Maybe he’s upset that I scolded him for the eggs?” She whispered to herself, thinking of Chan’s words. She shook her head. No, definitely not. But then why lie about his reasoning to start cooking?

Again, maybe it was a good thing the A/C wasn’t working for them. She’d rather focus on trying to get as warm as possible instead of what was beyond her door at this moment. She closed her eyes, thinking warm thoughts and warm places until she felt herself succumb to sleep.

At least, she tried to at least for the next two hours. She wasn’t sure how, but the cold managed to find its way under her large pile of blankets. [Name] could feel her own bones shaking at this point. She stayed under there for what felt like hours, feeling as if her body was going to freeze any time soon if she didn’t do anything about it.

A thought crossed her mind; a thought so seeded in desperation and exhaustion that [Name] thought she might be going crazy. She shook her head the minute an image flooded her mind.

If the circumstances weren’t so strange, [Name] wouldn’t even think twice in her decisions. Right now, [Name] was more than happy to stay curled up in a ball instead of whatever idea she just thought of.

[Name] was resolute with her ideas for several minutes, trying to convince herself it was warmer to stay where she was instead of ruining the little cocoon she made for herself. She had only given up when she felt a final cold breeze making its way through her back, causing goosebumps to erupt in her arms. She was quick to kick off her sheets and wrap them around her as she picked herself up and walked out her room and into Wonwoo’s.

He hadn’t been sleeping when she barged in, his glasses still attached to his face and whatever book he was reading was currently hanging off his fingertips as he looked up at [Name].

“What are you—” Wonwoo started, but was greeted with [Name] essentially flinging herself onto him.

“I’m cold and you’re the only other heater left in this place. Now, stay quiet and let me sleep because my bones won’t be as iced over when I wake up tomorrow.” [Name] responded in a rush, body pushed close enough to his body to the point that her cheek was resting against her shoulder.

Wonwoo could only look, not sure what to do next as she pulled her own blankets over his, trying to trap in as much warmth between them as possible. He set his book aside, hands hovering over her body as he tried to figure out what they should be doing next.

He decided to keep them at his sides, body barely moving as a million thoughts rounded off in his head. Why is she suddenly here? Was she that cold? God, what if he needs to use the bathroom? Her hair smells nice—

A slap to Wonwoo’s chest brought him back to reality. [Name] glared up at him. “Stop tapping your arm so much.” She grumbled, grabbing the arm against her’s. He hadn’t known it was moving so much. “Aren’t you uncomfortable laying like that? I know you sleep like you’re strapped to some target.”

“I’m fine like this,” Wonwoo answered. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

[Name] offered him an amused look. “I’m never uncomfortable if it’s you, Woo.” She responded honestly. A warm feeling erupted from his chest at that confession. “Even if you’ve been acting weird lately.”

Wonwoo laughed. “Who said I was being weird?”

He yelped when a painful sting came to his forehead. [Name] sat up onto her elbows, glaring at the tall man as if he said something offensive. “Don’t play dumb. I don’t get why, but you’ve been staring off into space lately and won’t look me in the eye sometimes. It’s a miracle we’re talking right now.”

His playful gaze softened immediately when they met her sharp ones. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was doing that so much lately. It’s just… I’m a coward.”

“A coward?” [Name] asked, raising an eyebrow.

Wonwoo nodded. “A big, fat coward.” He echoed back. “Call me an idiot, but why did it take me twenty-two years to realize I was in love with someone I’ve known my whole life?” [Name]’s eyes widened, but not a sound came from her. Wonwoo took it as his chance to keep going. “We grew up together, now we’ve lived together for almost four years so how come now is it that I realized that I’ve been hopelessly in love with you?”

“I—”

“Even before I realized, I was so annoyed when guys came up to you and I never once felt like I had to put something up whenever you’re around. And it took me this long to realize it wasn’t just because you were my best friend.” Wonwoo continued, not sure when he’ll have another opportunity to say something like this. He was scared, especially since this was so spontaneous—a trait he wasn’t exactly known for.

“Woo—”

“Look, you can reject me tomorrow but can we just stay like this—”

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence. How could he? A pair of lips slotted against his stopped him before he could utter his last words. Wonwoo stared up in shock. Half because he just confessed and half because oh my God, [Name] is kissing him. His mind blanked when she let up, a grin evident on her face.

“We can stay like this however long you want.” She offered, smiling. “Just, at least let me say that I do wonder, too, why it took you so long to figure that out when I’ve been waiting for a while now.”

Wonwoo’s jaw dropped. “You—Like romantically?”

“Would I have kissed you if it wasn’t?” [Name] countered, the pretty smile never leaving her face as she spoke.  “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t really pick up on your actions either; but that’s just because you’re a big oaf with no sense of emotional direction sometimes.”

“How long have you been waiting?” Wonwoo interrogated, turning his body fully towards her,

“Last year of high school. You earned high awards for all of high school and your parents threw you a party for high achievements. You didn’t even hesitate to take out that permanent marker and write my name down next to yours on that congratulations banner.” [Name] revealed, pushing some strands of hair out of his space as she spoke.

Wonwoo groaned. “That long?” He asked, embarrassment running through him. He laid his forehead against her shoulder, which shook from her laugh.

“Better late than never.” [Name] offered, though she wasn’t sure if she should be saying much either. She was more than ready to let her feelings for him die with her if he wasn’t going to say anything. Not to mention, she hadn’t exactly listened to anyone when they were pointing things out about him either (she had a feeling Chan was going to say something snarky when they meet again).

Wonwoo pulled her down to him, pressing himself as close to her as possible as he hugged her tightly. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make up for the four years of leaving you hanging like that.”

“That’s fine with me.” [Name] agreed, humming when she felt his lips press at the top of her head.

“That is, after you finish your essay, I mean.”

“Why do you like ruining nice moments…”

[skzhocomments]

The Five Stages of Grief - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

(And a second cover because I couldn't decide)

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC/Reader (Story is written in 2nd person, no name is mentioned)

Genre: angst

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: death, devastatingly sad, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts. No comfort, although it does end in a positive note. Ending is hopeful if you squint.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

---

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

© all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)

---

The Five Stages of Grief

---

“Hey Channie!” You entered his studio with a smile plastered on your face, that soon enough turned into a frown when you noticed your boyfriend of almost 5 years hasn’t even acknowledged your presence.

He tended to do that a lot, especially when working on new comebacks. His whole focus was on that damn computer which you were sure by now was your life-sworn enemy. It’s hard having to compete with a screen to get your boyfriend’s attention, but such was life sometimes, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You knew the risks that came with dating an idol, you just didn’t know how much worse it could be if you were to date a workaholic, perfectionist idol.

This was Chan.

He spent hours and hours and hours cramped in his small studio, perfecting beats, arranging vocals, switching up different rhythms and trying to figure out what could work out and have the most success between his fans.

“Have you eaten?” You asked, kissing his cheek, and only then did he notice you’re there, and pulled out his headphones.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you come in.” Was all he said, his face scrunched in concentration. “Did you say something?”

“Just asked if you’ve had dinner yet.”

He must’ve, right? It was well past 11 pm, but one of his bad habits was working himself to death, and more often than not, he would skip meal times entirely simply because he wasn’t good at keeping track of time.

“I had a protein bar earlier.” He shrugged.

“Want me to order you something? Or even better, why don’t we both head home?” You asked with a smile, trying to be convincing enough for your boyfriend.

It usually worked.

He would normally laugh off your attempts to be nice and realise that you’re just trying to take care of him, and he would comply and go home with you for the night, then resume his work the next day.

Once you’d be home, he would crash immediately, proof of how tired he’d been and how much he’d ignored his body’s needs. His sheer determination was scary.

However, none of this happened tonight. He rolled his eyes and muttered a small “There she goes again.”

You played it off, though, realising he probably didn’t mean for you to hear that. Brave on his part, you thought, in such a small quiet studio.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone still friendly, as if you were joking with him.

What you didn’t expect was for him to turn his whole chair towards you, his expression angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You heard me. God, it’s so frustrating having you come here all the time bossing me around. Eat! Sleep! Stop working! Can’t you see I’m busy?!” He ranted, pointing towards his computer screen.

“Wow, sorry, Mr. Busy.” You chuckled, despite being slightly angry with his words.

He doesn’t mean them. You told yourself. This is another one of his bad habits: bursting out and speaking cruel words whenever he’s extremely stressed and has tight deadlines. It hadn’t happened often, only a handful of times in your years long relationship, but it hurt nonetheless whenever it did.

“And there you go mocking me.” He rolled his eyes at you. “It’s like you don’t even care about the work I’m doing.”

“It’s not that, Chan. You know how much I value your work, it’s just-”

“Yeah, bullshit.” He laughs. “If you would, you’d stop barging in here demanding things from me when you know I have stuff to do.”

“Hey, I know you had a tough couple of days with the comeback and all, but there’s no need for you to take it out on my like this.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, this time feeling genuinely upset. It’s like he’s escalating it on purpose.

“No, it’s not just a tough couple of days. Don’t you get it? You do this shit all the time, and I’m frankly sick and tired of it. Can’t you just leave me be for once and stop being so controlling?”

“Controlling?” You asked, baffled. “How am I controlling, huh? By making sure you eat and sleep when you’re supposed to?”

“How do you even know what I’m supposed to do?! You always think you know best, but you never fucking consider any of my needs and wants.”

“Literally everything I do is fucking consider your needs, Chan.” You answered coldly.

“No. You’re just too deep in your head and can’t fucking figure out when to back down, so I’m telling you. Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone if I’m busy. God, I don’t need this shit.”

He mumbled the last sentence and put his headphones back in, turning his attention back to the screen.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did next, but he hurt you, and you didn’t like the way your conversation apparently ended. You wanted to know what he meant, so you grabbed his headphones’ wire and pulled them out of his ears forcefully.

The way he turned to you and the look he threw you almost made your blood freeze, but you were far too upset to care about upsetting him anymore.

“What exactly don’t you need, huh? What is this shit, exactly?!” You gestured with your hands.

“You can’t fucking let it go, can you?” He laughed in a baffled way.

“No, unless you tell me what this shit is.”

“This. Us. Everything. I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.”

“Oh, is that so?” You asked, expressionless.

He hurt you, but by his anger still present on his features, you realised it’s all pointless. You’re not going to see eye to eye tonight.

“Do you want to break up?” You let out, the words burning your tongue, and Chan’s eyes widen.

“What? No! Fuck, you twist my words.” He sighs, exasperated. “Just leave. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let out a shaky breath and watch him put his headphones back in.

“Oh, and this?” He starts, pointing to one end of the headphones. “Never do this shit again.”

You watch silently how he turns his chair to look back at the damn screen, without caring that you’re still there in the room.

The discussion is over.

“I see. Fine. I’ll go.” You let out, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. He didn’t see them, and it felt like he didn’t even care that he’s made you cry.

You quietly made your way out of the room, your sight too blurry to see anything, and you headed home.

---

Denial

---

Chan’s eyes are beginning to sting painfully, and after rubbing them and checking the time, he figures out why.

It’s way over 5 AM when he decides to finally leave the studio, and although it’s still dark out, the streets are already starting to get filled with people hurrying to whatever painful morning shift they are scheduled for.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get back to your shared apartment, and when he does, nothing seems unusual at first.

The house is expectedly quiet, it being so early in the morning, and he already imagines how deep in sleep you must be by now.

He feels guilty for how he treated you, that he let the anger consume him once again, and he regrets it. He always regrets it when he lets stress get the better of him.

As he heads towards the bathroom to wash the harsh day off his skin, he starts thinking about how he could make it up to you. Should he buy you flowers and bring you breakfast in bed in 4 hours when you’ll most likely get up?

Although he hasn’t slept at all.

Should he take you out on a date after he’s well rested? There was this restaurant you mentioned a couple of times that you wanted to try, but he didn’t have enough time to take you there to eat yet, not with all the planned comebacks and the work that keeps piling up.

Maybe tomorrow is finally the day.

He finishes his shower and rubs his eyes again, and God, how tired he is, just as usual when he pulls out all-nighters. Everything seems ordinary, but as he opens the bedroom door, however, something is unusual.

You are not there.

Confused, he takes out his phone to check for any messages you might’ve sent him, but upon noticing there’s no new notifications, he throws the phone on the bed, screen down, defeated.

Did you really think he wants to break up? Did you finally have enough and left him?

He knows he treated you badly tonight, but he thought it’s just a small drop in an ocean of happiness. Arguments are unavoidable, unfortunately, and he can’t always be the perfectly composed man he’s striving to become.

Would you really leave after a couple of cruel words he didn’t even mean? He starts asking himself as he gets into bed. Surely you know how much he loves and needs you there for him. It was just a bad night, that’s all.

Maybe you just wanted some space, and decided to head to a friend, or to a hotel or something.

He thinks about calling you, but with how late it is – or rather, how early – he knows he’d just disturb you or any of your friends you would’ve gone to if he were to call.

He decides to go to sleep instead and figure it all out tomorrow morning, when his mind is clearer, and when you’ve both had enough time to cool down.

~

His head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and feels multiple pulsations against all sides of his skull.

This is the worst migraine he’s ever had, and he realises how right you were when trying to convince him to go to sleep early. He really needed more sleep.

He grabs his phone to check the time, and when he does, he sees it’s flooding with notifications. His manager called him about a dozen times, starting at 8 AM and continuing up until 15 minutes ago, and he has multiple missed calls and messages from all the members.

Ugh, it’s only 10.

Did I have a schedule I’ve forgotten about? He wonders, rubbing his eyes confused, but checking the date, he knows it’s his day off.

He decides to head to the bathroom and freshen up, while picking up his phone and dialling his manager’s number.

He reaches the bathroom and puts toothpaste on his brush, and by the time the phone rang two times, his manager picks up.

“Chan! Where are you?” He asks, his voice hurried. “Why haven’t you picked up?”

He begins lazily brushing his teeth and checks the date again, and sure enough, it’s his free day. There’s nothing in his schedule.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, his voice still ridden with sleep, still tired from the lack of rest. “It’s my day off.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. Where else?”

“Good. That’s… okay. Have you talked to anyone yet?”

“No…? You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Chan. Something… something bad happened. I need you to sit down for a moment, okay?”

“Okay...?” Chan nods absent-mindedly, continuing to brush his teeth, oblivious about what’s coming.

“Last night… God, I don’t even know how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. Do note that the company will do its best to assist you and-”

“Cut to the chase. What’s wrong?” Chris asks, starting to get worried. He finishes brushing his teeth, and just as he prepares to put the toothbrush down, his manager’s next words make him drop it to the floor instead.

“Your girlfriend passed away last night. She was hit by a drunk driver on a crosswalk, and although an ambulance got there in less than 2 minutes, she was already… I’m sorry.”

The line falls silent as Chan tries to process what his manager just said. The only sound in the room is made by the toothbrush hitting the bathroom’s white floor tiles.

Chan heard wrong. There’s no other explanation.

“That can’t be.” He dismisses his manager completely. “She was just with me in the studio last night, and then she came-”

Home. But you weren’t home.

“She must’ve gone to a hotel or something.”

“Chan… I’m truly, truly sorry. As I said, we’re going to support you through this tough time with everything we’ve got.”

What tough time? Chan wants to ask but stays silent instead.

He picks the discarded toothbrush from the floor and throws it away. How careless he’s been, dropping it.

He wants to chuckle at his stupidity, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re going to nag him again for being careless and dropping things. This is the 3rd toothbrush he’s changing this month.

“Oh, God! Again?” He can already picture you with an amused expression on your face, your arms crossed. “You’re always dropping stuff on the floor!”

The thought brings the ghost of a smile on his face, and he starts wondering again where you might be. Surely your manager is mistaken.

“Her parents tried getting in touch with you, but they said you didn’t pick up. You should give them a call.” His manager continues to say. “From what they’ve told us, the funeral will be held tomorrow morning. JYPE offered to pay for all expenses. Anyways, this must be too much information to swallow for now, so I’ll come pick you up in 20 minutes and we can go to the company together. The rest of the boys are already here.”

“Okay, see you in 20 minutes.” Chan replies, not really understanding what’s happening.

He ignores the countless missed calls and messages and opens his call history to dial your number instead.

It goes straight to voice mail.

~

“Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?”You chuckled, asking him with an unsure look on your face.

“Yes. The beep-”

“Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!” You cheerfully said, ending the recording with a small laugh.

“Are you going to keep it like that?” He asked amused.

“Why not? It’s straight to the point!”

“You left my voice in it, though.”

“Oh, does it bother you? I can record again if you want me to.”

“No, no need. I just – isn’t it a bit weird?” He chuckled. “You even forgot to say your name.”

“Whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “If they called my number, they know who they’re calling.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He chuckles absent-mindedly at the memory of him teaching you how to record a message redirecting your callers to leave a voice mail. You’ve never been good at technology.

“Hi, babe. Can you please call me? I need to talk to you.” He says, deciding to leave a message, even though he isn’t convinced that you’ll get to hear it. You usually forget to check your voice mail.

He tries calling again, just for good measure.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly’?

Yes. The beep-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes.’

‘Hello! You’ve called…’

‘Hello!’

He throws his phone on the bed exasperated. Why aren’t you picking up?

You didn’t even come home last night, why is your phone turned off?

Do you want to somehow punish him for being cruel and make him worry?

He shakes his head confused and begins changing his clothes from the comfortable pyjamas to an appropriate enough outfit to go to the company.

It should be a crime to have to go so early in the morning anywhere on your day off.

When he’s done and he looks somewhat presentable, he picks his phone back up and dials your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called-’

He cancels the call just when he hears a knock on his door, and opening it, his manager is looking at him sombrely.

“Hi.” Chris speaks first, but his manager doesn’t say anything. He just pulls him into a hug that lasts way too long, Chan thinks.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He finally says after pulling away.

Chan doesn’t know what to reply, so he opts to just stay silent. His manager’s words don’t register in his head anyway; maybe he’s still tired.

He did go to sleep way too late.

They head to the car, and although the ride to the company only lasts 20 minutes or so, the 20 minutes feel like an eternity.

It’s just as his manager said, and everyone else is already at the company. When he sees the boys, they come rushing to him, their faces tear-stained and their clothes black.

“Oh, Chris…” Felix hugs him tightly and starts crying, and Chan starts comforting him by patting his back a few times.

A few tears escape past his eyes as well by seeing all the boys so gloomy, but he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his hand around it.

“Her parents said the wake is taking place at their house, so that’s where we’re headed now. I thought it’s better for you to not go alone.” His manager blurts out.

Chris looks dejected for a few seconds, before taking out his phone again and dialling the familiar number. This time, he types it himself. He knows it by heart.

With a shaky hand, he puts it against his ear and waits to connect.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

It makes no sense.

You couldn’t possibly… have died.

You are so young. You have so many plans and so many things you still want to do.

He is supposed to apologize to you and pamper you the whole day just to make up to you for being an asshole last night. He is supposed to take you to that restaurant you’ve been bugging him about for weeks.

You can’t possibly be gone, just like that.

~

Your parents embrace Chris as soon as he steps through the door. They’re sobbing loudly, and there are so many people present – some, he recognises: old friends from middle school you’ve shown him pictures of, some other colleagues from university, some coworkers he had the pleasure of meeting at the last Christmas party held by your company, a few family members…

There are also many people he doesn’t recognise; people your age, and Chan gets reminded once again of how young you are, with your whole life ahead.

He shakes his head once he notices a coffin on the large table in your parents’ living room; the same table you’ve both ate at just two weeks ago when you’ve last visited.

“My baby, Chris is here to see you.” Your mother cries, approaching the coffin and pulling his hand to guide him towards it as well.

It’s closed shut, and on top of it, your picture stares at him with a happy smile. You are so beautiful; he’s always loved this picture of yours. He’s the one who took it, just after you’ve graduated Uni and he handed you a big bouquet of your favourite flowers, rose peonies. You said your eyes wrinkled in a weird way, and never liked it, but he absolutely adored it. It’s been his wall screen ever since.

The coffin is made of dark polished mahogany, and its lid is adorned with golden handles.

You can’t possibly be in there.

Although beautiful, how could such a small coffin hold the large essence of your soul?

It makes no sense whatsoever.

Your parents’ cries seem real enough, though.

He touches the top of the coffin and wonders why it’s closed. Why would it be closed, when you are so gorgeous? People should see you, not a simple picture.

He decides it must be because you’re simply not in it. Or if you are hiding in there, maybe it’s all a joke and you’re going to open it from the inside and yell Surprise!, shocking everyone in the room and making your mother faint. It’s something you’d do.

So, he waits.

He waits, and waits, and waits, and his feet grow tired and his back starts aching after so many hours on his feet. People come and go, paying respects, patting his shoulders and trying to make some small talk, talking about you in past tense.

“She was such a wonderful person.”

“She was so full of life.”

“Her laugh was so intoxicating.”

“Her work ethic was admirable.”

“She was so smart.”

He listens and nods to each of their words. They are right. You are a smart, wonderful person, you are full of life, your laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard. He’s wished more often than not to record it and put it in one of his tracks, but every time he’d mentioned it, you called him silly.

By the time your father brings him a chair and places it next to the coffin so he can sit down instead of standing, it’s already night out.

“You should get some rest, Chris. I’ll stay with her.” He tells him, placing his strong hand on Chan’s shoulder as to attract his attention, but Chan just shakes his head.

How could he go sleep when you might decide any time to wake up?

Would you panic, with the lid closed and all? You’ve always been claustrophobic. Why is it closed, anyway?

~

It’s already morning when one of your relatives approaches Chris and urges him to get out of the living room to change his clothes.

They’ve brought him a white suit at the request of your father; wedding attire, since you didn’t get the chance to get married before you passed.

He is reluctant to put on the white pants and uncomfortable suit jacket, but he does it anyway. Your mother cries when she sees him, and your father pats his shoulder and thanks him for doing this.

The priest comes, and a lot of your friends visit your home again, to lead you on your last journey, apparently.

It takes the priest about half an hour to finish praying for your soul, and then your coffin is loaded in the back of a hearse. The car moves slow enough for everyone to be able to follow, and Chris is walking right behind it, next to your parents. Felix is behind him with Lee Know and Changbin, and the rest of the boys are somewhere far back. He sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in all white while everyone else is wearing black.

Each time the car passes next to important places in your life, the hearse stops and people throw coins on the ground. They pass by your kindergarten and your old school, and with each step, your mother cries harder. Your father tries his best to stay composed, but even he bursts into tears when your mother starts talking about your life and what a happy kid you were.

Chris doesn’t shed a tear. He follows the hearse blindly, and when it reaches the cemetery, he watches as his members take out the coffin and place it on the ground next to a large, freshly dug hole.

The priest begins a final prayer, and soon enough, he watches how the coffin disappears inside the hole. People start throwing soil and flowers. He doesn’t know how a couple of roses get in his hands, but he begins throwing them one by one on top of the coffin that keeps getting lowered down.

You’ve never liked roses that much. You like peonies. Why did someone hand him roses?

There is also some music – hymns, or the sorts. Something you wouldn’t like. He doesn’t like it either.

A few moments later, some people begin covering the coffin in dirt, and he watches the scene expressionless. It gets covered fairly quickly. People start crying even harder, and his ears start ringing.

He feels sick to his stomach, so he decides to take a few steps back as soon as the whole gets filled to the brim with the freshly dug soil.

“I can’t believe she’s truly gone. She was so young!” He hears a woman say from somewhere behind him. He doesn’t bother turning his head to check if he knows her or not.

“Right? We were talking just yesterday morning at work about going shopping this weekend.” Another woman replies in a quiet tone.

“They didn’t even open the casket.”

“How could they? Didn’t you hear how she passed?”

“No! What even happened?”

“She was apparently crossing the road and a car came out of nowhere, hitting her with more than 200 km/h. It threw her like 30 metres in the air.”

“Oh my God! I heard it was a car accident, but this…”

“Yeah! It’s insane. There was barely anything left of her… only shattered bones and flesh, nothing resembling a human.”

“Shh, what if someone hears you say that?!” The other woman tried to silence the first one.

After hearing these details, Chris feels even sicker.

He wants to throw up.

“Son, we are going to the reception now. Do you want to come with us in our car?” Your father approaches him, and Chris simply nods.

He hugs him for a few seconds, and then they wait for your mother to come, and the ride to the restaurant is filled with her sobs while your father and Chan remain expressionless.

~

He sits at a table next to your parents. Felix is on his left, and the rest of the boys and other members of JYPE are sitting nearby.

There is an empty space to his right, and in front of it, the table is full of your favourite foods, snacks and drinks.

His eyes are stuck on that empty seat.

“Wow, they really brought me a lot.” You chuckle, looking at Chris with your head supported by your right hand, your elbow against the table. “How am I supposed to eat all of this?”

He watches the scene stunned.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why the long face?” You ask, the smile on your face wider, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

The next time Chris blinks, you’re gone.

The seat is empty.

~

The boys insist that Chan comes with them to the dorms, or that at least some of them come home with him.

“It’s not good to be alone.” Hyunjin says sympathetically, and Chris simply shakes his head.

What if you come back home tired and want to rest, but the boys are there visiting? He asks himself. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

So, he goes home alone, after much bargaining with them that he needs some time on his own.

The silence that greets him once he opens the door to your shared apartment is deafening.

He first goes to the bedroom to check if you’re back yet, but the sheets stay as empty as when he woke up two days ago, so he pulls out his phone to dial your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

The beep sound follows soon after, and he begins talking.

“Babe, I know you’re mad at me. I was wrong. I’m sorry. It’s time to come back home now. Please?”

A second beep follows, signalling that the time to record his message is over, so he ends the call. He ignores the countless notifications piling up on his screen, all the Condolences messages he’s been receiving, and he places the phone in his pocket and starts making the bed.

“Wow, well done, Channie! I’m impressed!” He can almost hear you chuckling, and turns his head towards the door, fully expecting you to be there laughing at him and praising him for doing the bare minimum, but there’s no one there.

Once the bed is made, he heads towards the living room. A half empty glass of water is on the table, its margins stained by your lipstick, next to a plate full of breadcrumbs.

Tsk, how messy. He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly why you haven’t cleaned up. You must’ve eaten in a rush again, this bad habit of yours.

You’re always complaining about stomach aches, but you keep eating on the go while getting ready for work in the morning, and never enjoy your meals.

He takes a picture of the crime scene and opens his phone again, shooting you a text.

“Forgot to clean up?” He asks, then attaches the picture of the plate and glass.

He knows you’ll probably laugh and start excusing yourself once you see it. If he were to check his gallery, half the pictures are surely of the dirty plates you simply forget about on the table.

Chris always washes them, but never fails to remind you of it.

This time, too, he takes the plate and glass to the sink and turns on the hot water. He rubs the plate with a dish sponge with way too much dish soap on it, and he hears your voice in the back of his head again:

“My, Channie! You’re so wasteful! You only need a drop. A single drop!!! What are you using so much dish soap for???”

He starts laughing as he grabs the glass and throws the half-drunk water out, but before washing it, he notices the lipstick stains again. He smiles to himself and sets the glass aside, wiping it off with a napkin, careful to not accidentally remove the stain.

Your lips left such a pretty mark, he doesn’t want to part with it yet, even if you are going to give him an earful later for not washing the glass properly.

When there is nothing else to do around the house, he opens his laptop and starts sorting out his emails. All of their schedules for the month have been cancelled, and their upcoming comeback postponed indefinitely.

He doesn’t think it’s necessary, but at the end of the day, the company’s rules must be followed. You’ve complained about him working too much anyway. Maybe this is the chance for you two to spend a bit more time together.

All he has to do now is wait for you to come back.

~

He waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Felix visits with Jisung and Seungmin the next day.

And then the next, Jeongin comes with Changbin and Hyunjin.

Minho drops by every morning with enough food to last Chris the whole day.

His manager comes once a week and makes sure to call him daily.

Whenever he’s on the phone, he paces around the empty apartment and looks around. He sees the jewellery you left on the coffee table; your sports shoes are still on the doormat in front of the door, your face creams and serums stay untouched in the bathroom, your hairbrush lays by the sink filled with loose hair, and there’s a half-ironed shirt on the ironing table in the dressing.

You don’t like other people touching your stuff, so he leaves everything just like that, waiting for you to come back and fix it all.

The glass with your lipstick stain on it is still there on the counter, next to the sink.

He’s texted you about a dozen of times since he first messaged you about it and the plate that’s long been washed, but you haven’t replied to a single text. Your phone still goes directly to voicemail, but worst of all… no matter how much he’s waiting…

… you don’t come home, and the apartment stays empty.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right!’

~

‘Hello!’

---

Anger

---

It’s been more than a month, but Chris still sets the table for you each time he eats what Lee Know brings him.

He wouldn’t bother eating much, if Minho wouldn’t have insisted to tag along to practically every meal after he noticed that he’s barely touching the food.

He always places one more plate on the table, right in front of him, at your usual spot.

“Just in case she comes back and gets hungry.” He explains to Minho, but he’s had enough of this.

“Hyung…” Lee Know hesitates. “She… she’s not coming back. You know that, right?”

His tone is quiet, and he tries to approach the subject as gently as possible. However, it’s time for him to do something. You’ve died more than five weeks ago, but Chris hasn’t moved any of your belongings, not even to store them.

There’s a box of tampons on the kitchen counter, but he won’t even move that, for fuck’s sake. He keeps waiting for you to come home, as if he doesn’t realise the fact that you’ve passed away.

“No, she will.” Chris says firmly, daring Minho to challenge him more.

“Hyung… She… she died. She’s not coming back.”

“You’re wrong!” Chris shouts all of a sudden, hitting the table with his fist strong enough to make the tableware bounce. He knows Minho is right. After waiting for you for weeks on end without you coming back, after dialling your number about a million times, after sending countless texts with no reply from you… he knows. But…

“Chris…” Lee Know stares empathetically.

“You’re all wrong! She… she’s coming back, goddamit!” He shouts again, this time grabbing the table’s edges and flipping it. The empty plates fall to the ground and shatter in the process, and Minho’s pot spills on the carpet, staining it.

Chris tries to cling to the last bit of hope he has regarding you, but he knows you’re dead. Everyone else was right, and he was wrong. You’re really gone.

“I’m sorry, Hyung. You… you need some help…” Lee Know continues with a shake of his head, bending down to grab the broken pieces of glass.

When he’s done cleaning up the carpet and the floor to the best of his abilities, he takes one more look at Chan. He looks like a ticking bomb, ready to explode again any second now.

Lee Know doesn’t know if it would be good to give Chan space, or if he should insist again that he comes with him to the dorms.

He decides to ask him anyway, and to his surprise, Chris nods and packs a small bag with clothes and hangs it on his shoulder.

They made their way out to Lee Know’s car, and once they’re at the dorms, they say goodbye as each goes to their respective apartments. Chris used to live with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, so that’s where he’s headed.

The dorms are as messy as he remembers, but they bring him comfort nontheless. His old room brings him solace as well.

There are a few pictures or you on the small desk in his room, and he looks at them fondly. You’re smiling beautifully in all of them. It’s the you he remembers. You, at your first date; you, the first time he took you to an amusement park; you, when all your fingers were coated in chocolate after you attempted to bake him a cake.

It’s you.

God, how he misses you.

How dare you leave him alone?

How dare you?

Why didn’t you fucking look to the left before crossing the road? Even if the traffic light was green, you should’ve fucking looked.

You’ve always been careful to look, so why…?!

Watching the pictures no longer makes him happy. It makes him angry, and out of anger, he punches the wall behind the desk with all his strength.

It makes no sense, really, but the pain in his fist takes away from the pain in his heart, so he punches the wall again.

He decides to try and calm down after hitting the wall two more times, and he hops into his old bed, shutting his eyes tight and thinking about the night you died.

‘I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.’

Those were some of the last words he’s said to you.

Since you’ve died a few blocks away from the JYPE building, it happened right after you left.

You died thinking he doesn’t love you.

You died thinking he doesn’t need you.

He does.

He needs you.

If only he’d gone home with you that night, as you asked him, you would’ve never died.

It’s his fault.

It’s his fault you’ve died.

He killed you.

He lashed out on you and blamed all his stress on your attempts to take care of him, and he killed you.

Fuck, it’s all his fault.

For the first time since the funeral, he bursts out in tears, and he is unable to stop. It’s like all of his repressed feelings for the past month and a half come biting him right in the ass.

It’s so hard to breathe. He’s getting suffocated.

He can’t.

He can’t breathe anymore.

You’re on top of him, suffocating him.

“You killed me.” You say, blood running down your face.

He can almost feel the drops hitting him, with your face so close to him.

“It’s your fault. “You knew what you were saying. You killed me.” You say again cruelly, and Chris shuts his eyes even tighter.

His cries soon turn to wails, and he’s being loud enough for Changbin to hear him and get alerted. He opens the door without knocking, and upon seeing Chris, his heart breaks.

He just goes to the bed and throws himself on top of Chris, as if to shelter him somehow from the intense grief he’s feeling.

When his cries quiet down, Changbin takes a look at his friend and sees his injuries.

“Holy fuck, your hand is bleeding. Are you okay?” He asks in panic, standing up quickly to grab the first aid kit to bandage his fist.

“It’s all my fucking fault!” Chris screams at the top of his lungs, and his destructive mood comes back. He stands up, wanting to destroy it all. Every damn picture, every fucking thing in this room.

He wants to set it on fire and let it it all to pieces, letting himself burn as well. It’s what he deserves for killing you.

Sure, the drunk driver that hit you was directly responsible for taking your life, but the way he acted that night… nothing would’ve happened if it weren’t for him.

He killed you.

Changbin sees right through his erratic behaviour and anticipates his moves, throwing himself once more at Chris, holding him tight and not letting him move, no matter how much Chris lashes out. He doesn’t let go until his friend calms down again, and even after he does, he decides to camp in the room with him and keep him company.

---

Bargaining

---

It’s been three months, and Chris still has some difficulties accepting that you’re truly gone.

He probably shouldn't be here so soon, but it’s like he has to make sure again that you’re… that you’re dead.

Your parents did a great job with your grave; your gravestone made of marble stands tall , centred right in front of the ground you’re buried deep within, and the intricate designs of sculpted vines and flowers reminds him of you.

Oh, right. Flowers.

Chris remembers he brought a bouquet of pink peonies with him. He’s been holding onto it tightly ever since he bought it and stepped in a taxi to come here, but as soon as he got to your grave, time stopped, he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he forgot about the flowers in his hands.

It’s not like you need any more; there are so many fresh flowers all over and around your grave. Your parents also planted lots on top of the soil above your coffin, decorating your rest place beautifully.

You’ve always said you wanted a garden, and now, you have one: your little space in the uncomfortably large cemetery at the edge of the city.

“My favourite flowers. Aren’t they pretty?” He swears he can hear your voice, and turning to his left side, his breath hitches in his throat, choking him.

There you are, holding the bouquet of pink peonies he bought with a large smile on your face, but just like last time, he blinks, and the bouquet is in his hands, as it’s been the whole time, and you’re nowhere in sight.

A tear rolls down Chan’s cheek. He wishes he would’ve bought you that house and garden you’ve been dreaming of, instead of the convenient apartment in the city centre.

He wishes he would’ve proposed, and that you’d build a little family together. After all, you were his solace in the midst of all the chaos of his life. The sole person bringing him purpose and comfort.

But now you’re gone.

He wishes he wouldn’t have always put his job first. Especially now, as his schedules stay empty due to the company fearing for his well-being, he realises how much free time he could’ve had if only – if only he’d listened to you.

He regrets all those late nights in the studio when he could’ve been home sleeping next to you.

He regrets every breakfast, lunch and dinner he’s missed because he was too busy with making a new song, learning a new dance, or preparing for a new comeback. Now, none of it matters. You’re gone.

He could’ve postponed all of them. He could’ve done so much differently, and he regrets it all.

You’re gone.

He places the peonies in a little vase near your gravestone, next to some daffodils someone must’ve brought you a few days ago.

Then, he raises his gaze and reads the inscription in the headstone’s marble. It’s your favourite poem by Clare Harner.

Good choice, he thinks, as he goes through the lines of Immortality and traces each engraved letter with his fingers.

~

‘Do not stand by my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning's hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand by my grave, and cry--

I am not there, I did not die.’

You stopped reciting the poem and took a deep breath, looking expectantly at Chan.

“Isn’t this poem beautiful?” You asked him, your eyes sparkling.

“A bit morbid, but yes.” Chris chuckled as he placed the freshly made pasta dish in a large plate and served you dinner.

“Aww, thank you. Smells so good!” You grinned in delight, your eyes closing into crescents, as they always did whenever you smiled brightly.

He couldn’t help but press a quick chaste kiss against your lips before he sat down as well.

“So, pasta master, show me how it’s done.” You encouraged him, nudging his elbow and handing him your fork and spoon.

“Tsk, you’re so spoiled.” Chris tutted jokingly, but complied nonetheless and started twirling the pasta with the fork. Once it became an appropriate bite-sized portion, he raised the fork and supported it with the spoon as he brought the food to your mouth.

“Mmmm, so good!” You exclaimed with a few quick, excited small claps, as soon as you started feeling the flavours.

“Of course, what were you expecting?” Chris chuckled.

“Only the best from you.” She praised, petting his head fondly. “So, about the poem. Do you think it’s good enough for my presentation?”

“For Uni? Yeah, of course. Anything you’d pick is good enough, babe. You have your way with words, and you recited it very beautifully.”

“You think?” You beamed at his words, and he nodded. “Thank you, Channie. I really really like it, but I was afraid it wasn’t appropriate.”

“No, it is. You can use it.”

“If the lyrical genius says so, it must be true.” You stood up briefly and kissed his cheek, before returning to your seat and starting eating the pasta.

~

God, how many years ago was that?

Chris bursts out crying for the millionth time this month, and grabs the headstone with both his hands, feeling his knees grow weak.

On the brink of collapse, he uses your gravestone for support as he weeps louder.

“Can’t you come back?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Please. Please come back. Please. I… I promise I’ll do better, hm? I promise I’ll no longer stay as late in the studio, so please… please…”

The headstone can’t support him enough when his hands go weak as well, and he falls to his knees right in front of the poem.

“If only – If only I’d left with you that night. If only we hadn’t fought. God… please, please come back. We still have to make up.”

He cries for what feels like hours, and his body grows cold.

“Please… please…” He forces out again. “Come back… come back… we have so much we want to do… come back… I need… I need more time with you, please. Please.”

And he cries again.

And again.

And again, until he feels a hand on his shoulder a while later, and he turns his head around hopeful, thinking you might’ve somehow heard his pleas and returned to him.

His expression falls as he sees Seungmin looking concerned at him, and then he frowns even more noticing the pathetic way he looks in his eyes’ reflection.

Seungmin falls to the ground next to Chan, hugging his side tightly. Then, he helps him stand up and balance on his feet.

Chris is grateful for Stray Kids being there for him, but he just wishes… it would’ve been you standing next to him instead of Seungmin.

---

Depression

---

Chris has never experienced such an intense fatigue before. Every part of his body hurts, and it’s like his muscles are screaming at him each time he stands up. He is lethargic and looks haggard and in desperate need of rest, but rest doesn’t come by too easily as of late.

It’s 5AM and he’s in the studio again, but instead of doing anything productive, like finishing up that song he’s started working on two months ago that he keeps beating himself up for, he watches how beautiful you looked in the picture on his desk.

You used to be so full of life and so gorgeous. Your smile could make anyone happy, and your laugh – God, how much he misses your laugh.

He misses your voice.

Sometimes, he can’t even remember what it sounds like, and he thinks it’s absurd; it hasn’t been that long since you passed. Only about a year. He shouldn’t forget it so soon.

He grabs his phone and manually types the digits to your number. He still hasn’t forgotten it, and with how deep it’s been ingrained in his memory, he doesn’t think he ever will.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He hasn’t cried in some time while thinking of you, but now, he’s on the verge of tears again. You used to sound so carefree.

You used to be so happy.

He doesn’t know when he started referring to you in past tense, but as soon as the realisation hits him, he lets a couple of tears stain his cheeks.

Chris is tired. He hasn’t slept in… God knows how many days. He’s always had trouble sleeping, but nowadays, his insomnia has been getting worse and worse. His doctor prescribed him some pills that are supposed to help, but he can’t even be bothered to take them anymore. They don’t help him rest anyway. If he takes them, he wakes up confused, disoriented, and with an even worse headache.

His phone is still in his hand and his finger brushes over his screen. He didn’t have the heart to change his lockscreen picture. It’s still you.

He hasn’t seen you in what feels like years. The first few months when he’d been haunted by your ghost were tough, but now that he hasn’t seen any glimpse of you in months, day to day life is getting harder and harder to navigate.

You don’t even visit him in his dreams anymore, on the seldom nights he sleeps. If he takes the small white pills, he doesn’t dream of anything, and he so desperately wants to see you again, to touch you, that he refuses to take them. That’s the other reason he doesn’t.

Fuck, this is hard.

Are you supposed to feel so devastated after a whole year?

Back then, years passed by so quickly – it meant comeback after comeback, work, work and more work, and time with you was scarce but very appreciated. Time used to fly, and without him knowing how much time passed, you’ve celebrated your 5th anniversary. He was planning to propose to you soon. He was looking at rings, but then you…

Time doesn’t pass by as quickly anymore. This year stretched for so long, it felt like a decade instead of barely 12 months. With each passing month, it was like nothing was changing at all for Chris, but now, looking back, everything feels different.

He’s a completely different person than the one that was staying in the studio up until 5 AM last year, and he blames himself so, so much for his unchanging bad habits.

He blames himself for your death still. It’s his fault, and this thought only makes him more hopeless and more depressed.

He’s lost weight. A lot of it, to the point where the company had to have an ‘intervention’. Whereas last year his body was toned, his abs perfectly sculpted and his form admirable, he now looks like a ghost of himself.

If he eats, his stomach immediately starts hurting. He threw up 3 times this week alone.

Your death still has such a big emotional toll on him, and he’s tried it all. He went to therapy. He still goes four times a week at his company’s requests. He’s on medication that makes him groggy and unable to think, medication that shut down all his feelings – not just the negative ones. He is numb, and when he isn’t, he feels utterly devastated and lost.

What is he supposed to do now, without you?

How come a year has already passed without you by his side? He’s even contradicting himself. Sometimes he feels that the year passed by slowly, and sometimes he looks back and doesn’t understand how he was able to live a whole year without you.

He needs you.

Fuck, he needs you so much, he still can’t believe he even insinuated that horrible night that he didn’t.

Life no longer has any purpose, and everyone around him is growing more concerned by the day, as this once optimistic man has left together with you, leaving in his place only a pessimistic, desperate person.

He realised how badly he wants to die exactly 6 months ago, when your sudden disappearance finally started sinking in for real. When he stopped bargaining with God or with whatever cruel higher power there might be in the sky to let you come back, even if just for 10 minutes, for enough time for him to kiss and hug you and tell you how much he’s missing you.

6 months ago, he started decorating his thighs with unsightly marks, some of them faded, other fresh. He can’t do it anywhere else, no matter how much he’d wished to cut his wrists open, for fear of anyone else noticing.

So, he takes his despair out on his poor thighs, pressing the small blade against his skin until he feels something, anything. Until blood starts pouring down and the shower’s water pools down at his feet completely red.

He winces in pain every time he does it, but at least he feels something different than the numbness that grows bigger and bigger in his heart, consuming everything in its way. His whole soul feels absorbed by it, crushed under the pressure.

On the rare occasions he’s not numb, he feels the immense grief your absence left. He now knows that you’ve not only taught him how to love, but also how it is to lose what you love, and it hurts. It’s excruciating, and his heart is being ripped apart still, each and every time he thinks of you, and your absence is tearing him apart from the inside out.

He is physically sick. His headaches are worse than ever. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t do anything anymore. He doesn’t want to, either.

The only thing he wants is to die, but even this wish feels selfish. He sees the way his friends look at him, how they’re walking on eggshells around him, to not somehow mention anything that could trigger a bigger depressive episode than what he’s already going through. He only pushes through it because of them, because he knows how it feels to lose someone you truly love, and he doesn’t want them to have to live with this black hole in their chests.

But… the loneliness he feels is simply merciless. It’s pouring down on him like unyielding unforgiving rain, not showing him any pity, and so he tries to fills his days with something that would make him forget about the gap in his soul.

The company let him come back to work a while ago, but they didn’t plan any comeback for Stray Kids for the time being, nor are they planning any for the near future. He’s grateful they’re giving him time, because he’s in no shape or form ready to do anything, not when he’s withdrawn himself so much from everything he used to love.

It’s difficult to compose any up-beat songs, or any song, for that matter. It used to come naturally for him, but not anymore. Changbin and Jisung are doing their best to support him and make up for his lack of concentration, but it feels like he’s not bringing anything to the table anymore.

He’s missed practice over and over again. The Kids meet up every two days to dance to their older songs, and as they don’t have anything new to work with, they even started learning the dances of other popular songs, or creating choreographies that would fit western music. Chan never went. He stopped dancing 12 months ago, and he hasn’t even stepped in the practice room since you died, not even once.

He hasn’t sung since you died either, and no one said anything about it. No one blamed him at all. Not even his company, who he was sure was going to fire him in the first 6 months after your death.

They said they trust him, and that they’re going to give him as much time as he needs to recover. They talk about him like he’s sick, but he’s not sick. They don’t seem to understand that.

He’s not sick, he’s just devastated, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to live again, to sing and dance on stage and to work hard, because this is no longer his dream.

He only dreams of death, and the thoughts of it are the only ones bringing him any solace. His therapist said he needs more time, and he quoted Lois Tonkin more times than he can count. He said that life will soon begin to grow bigger around grief, and that the intense sadness he’s feeling is just another expression of love for you. One that is permanent, but that will diminish as time passes and as he starts enjoying life again.

He doesn’t believe any of it, though.

How could he begin to enjoy life again, with you not there by his side?

---

Acceptance

---

He met someone.

For the first time in years, he felt genuine happiness again.

It took him one more year to start reengaging in some of his older hobbies and in his work. He started gradually going to the gym with Changbin and Lee Know, and eventually felt ready to start dancing and singing again. Another year later, he was ready to get back on stage and face all his fans, who’ve thankfully shown an unwavering support of his journey with grief.

He started feeling a bit better, and even though you were on his mind all the time, he was no longer dwelling on the pain of the loss of you. Your memory started bringing him more happiness, and he started looking fondly at all the sweet moments you’ve both shared together.

He started appreciating being able to have met you, to have lived 5 beautiful years next to you, and even though he still feels it is unfair that you’ve been taken away from him so cruelly and way too early, he no longer blames himself.

He still regrets the argument you had on the night you passed away, but he started slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was nothing he could do about it anymore, no way to take his words back. He started accepting that this is the one regret he’s going to have to take to his grave with him.

It took him one more year to start embracing life again, to start looking forward to his future with Stray Kids and to start actively making plans. He realised there was so much more he wanted to accomplish, and his dreams started coming back to him little by little, with the support of his friends and family.

He’s met her two years later.

When it happened, he was still not ready to give love a second chance. He thought it was way too soon, that he was disrespecting you by catching feelings for someone else. He felt like he was emotionally cheating on you.

He decided it’s time to join a support group at the recommendation of his friend, and he’s met a lot of people of all ages: some younger than him, some way older. The way they spoke about their former partners warmed up his heart, and they made him realise that loving again is not an affront to your memory. He can still keep loving you while loving someone else as well. He can still honour your memory.

He opened up to her, and he’s told her all about you. She wanted to know who you were, and she even visited your grave with him, holding his hand and talking to you at your gravestone. She told you she loves him and thanked you for being there for him while you were still alive, for giving him precious memories to hold onto.

She apologized for life being so unfair and taking you away from Chris so abruptly, and she assured you she’s going to take care of him to the best of her abilities.

She was really patient with him. She gave him as much time as he needed to come to terms with his feelings. He let him set the pace on what he was comfortable with doing. The first time they slept together was after more than one year of dating, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as he felt necessary.

She loved him, and he loved her.

He proposed to her almost two years later, and they welcomed a child one year after their wedding.

He visited your grave on your 10th death anniversary with his son in his stroller, a baby boy he’s given your favourite name. You were still present in his thoughts, and his love for you never subsided.

He now simply has additional people to love and to grow old with, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you still.

~

He decided to visit your grave again, even if walking has become a bit too difficult. Still, he manages the way from the car until your grave just fine, even if he has to support himself with a crane.

He is now old enough to be called ‘grandpa’, and not just as a joke between him and his friends. His hands are shaking, and his legs are a bit wobbly; his face is adorned with deep lines and creases, his forehead is wrinkly, and each fine line contributes to his now years-long life and experiences. The skin dropped around his cheeks, but every lady in the nursing home assures him he’s still a handsome man.

Your grave is no longer as tidy and beautifully adorned with fresh flowers. The soil has been overtaken by weeds and is in dear need of cleansing. He hasn’t visited in a while, unfortunately, his health issues making it a tad too hard, and with your parents long gone, there is no one else to take care of your resting place.

He makes a mental note to hire someone to clean it up and plant some flowers, but for the time being, he simply sets the bouquet of rose peonies in the small, chipped vase next to your headstone.

The inscription in the once immaculate marble is no longer as visible, but he doesn’t need to read it in order to recognise Immortality by Clare Harner. He still remembers the poem by heart, and also all sorts of other small, insignificant things, like your old phone number that’s been disconnected decades ago.

He looks at your smiling picture, the one he took when you’ve just graduated from university, and he realises as if for the first time how young you were.

He’s grown old; he has multiple wrinkles, his skin sagged everywhere, and his body went through each transformation it was supposed to when advancing in years.

But you?

You’ve stayed young. You’ve stayed beautiful, cheerful, smiling. Your face stayed clear of any creases.

You’ve remained just as he remembers you.

You are immortal.

“I’m sorry for not coming in a while.” He speaks with a soft smile on his face.

“That’s fine. You are probably very tired.”

He swears he could hear your voice. Maybe the poem is right, and the whispers of the wind transform in your saccharine voice he’s so dearly missed.

“I’m truly sorry for what I’ve said.” He continues, feeling the need to apologize again for his harsh words that night. No matter how many years have passed and how many time he’s already apologised, he’s never forgiven himself.

“But I’ve forgiven you long ago.” The wind whispers, and he closes his eyes and nods his head.

“I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” The sunlight caresses his back, warming him up as the wind strengthens. “And I’m waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to meet me, my love.”

~The End~

---

(A/N)  Obligatory song: 11 minutes by Halsey and YUNGBLUD.

When my best friend showed me this song, I immediately fell in love with the concept of the music video, that’s based on the five stages of grief. I thought to myself that I simply must write a story like this, but of course, that was months ago and I’ve completely forgotten about it, as I usually do with most random ideas that come to mind that I don’t write down lol.

I couldn’t really sleep for the past few nights, so my mind kept brewing ideas and scenarios to keep me busy and hopefully lull me to sleep.

It didn’t work, because the five stages of grief came to mind and I knew I had to immediately write a story about it and not let the idea go this time, so I got out of bed at like 6:30 am and wrote and wrote on and off for a total of 13 hours, until this 10k words of pure despair have been created.

I hope you enjoyed it even though it probably sent you spiralling into depression. Thank you for reading nonetheless!

Love,

Storm

[moondancediner]

daydreaming - i

summary: it's hard to run away from your past when your ghosts keep walking through the front door - and Tess Mitchell is no stranger to ghosts

bradley bradshaw x tess mitchell

word count: 3.5k

warnings: swearing, chaotic lovers, small age gap (around 5-6 years), daddy issues, best friends to lovers but it's complicated af and no i will not be apologizing, cliffhanger?

a/n: okay wow this was gonna be a cute little quick thing and it turned into a multiple parter? question mark question mark... idk how many parts but this hoe got away from me real fast she's almost at 10k already...

This was going to be a reader-insert but the character bloomed before my eyes and here's Tess Mitchell she's my fav we love her.

Italics are flashbacks, regular text is present day

Also, Rooster is an ass man you can't change my mind.

masterlist || pt.II

you know, i'll be gone for so long,

so give me all of your love, give me something to dream about

“Rooster,” she whined, turning her back to the pool table and leaning a wobbly hip on its wooden edge to look for her husband, her lips turning slightly downward. She spotted him right away, like a moth to flame it was never hard to miss him. 

“Yeah, baby?” The beer bottle dropped from his lips as he looked at her, heart nearly stopping at the sight.

“I need help,” she drunkenly pouted. 

“With what, sweetheart?” He hadn’t moved from his spot, the both of them raising their voices across the crowd of friends. 

“I forgot how to play pool,” she shrugged, pool stick in hand, the same one she’d been losing with for a good twenty minutes now, “I need you to show me,” and Rooster nearly choked on his beer. He loved drunk Tess. 

“Well, it just so happens that I’m a master pool player, my love,”

“Is that so?” She asked, looking up at him. He towered over her, all six delicious feet of him, his own body locking her into her spot. 

“Oh, absolutely,” his sly wink sent shivers down her spine. He downed what remained of his beer, setting it on the nearest table before turning back to assess her. “Alright. Righty or lefty?” 

“I’m ambidextrous,” it was her turn to wink now. 

“Jesus, woman, you’re tryna kill me, you know that?” He placed his hands on her hips while she laughed, turning her around then taking the pool cue out of her hand. “Alright, so put your right hand here, and your left hand here… and then you line up…” His right arm left the cue, circling around her waist, thumb hooking in the belt loop of her shorts as he leaned them both over the table, sweaty bodies gluing together. 

The pool table under her body was gone. The people around them were gone. Phoenix, rolling her eyes at the other end of the table, patiently awaiting her turn - gone. All she could think about was his mouth whispering against the shell of her ear. 

“Now,” another shiver racked her spine, “are you stripes or solids?” He lowered his voice and it took everything Tess had not to lose her clothes right then and there. 

“I… really couldn’t tell you,” because all she could think about was that every inch of him was pressed against every inch of her back and his arm was keeping her ass anchored to his crotch, pinning her between the table and himself. His laugh in her ear was sinful. He stood up straight and she followed him, not willing to risk the loss of contact. 

“Phoenix, help me out here,” he asked the girl across the table. Phoenix rolled her eyes, but told him; stripes, and will you hurry up, please? “Alright, baby, here we go,” he leaned the both of them back over, lining up the shot to the correct ball this time, “whenever you’re ready Hotshot,” 

The sound of her callsign brought her back to that first night. When he walked through those bar doors, clad in his dad’s Hawaiian shirt not unlike the one he wore tonight. 

Tess did a double take when Rooster walked into the bar. She had never met Goose, was born after he died and never had the honor, but from all the pictures she’s seen of him throughout her life, it might as well have been him walking through those doors. Hawaiian shirt, aviator sunglasses, and a smile that screamed trouble.

She thought she’d had enough shock for one day when her father walked through those same doors not too long ago, but here this was. 

Her heart nearly stopped. Tess Mitchell was a planner. Things did not simply happen to her. Her life had been out of control for as long as she could remember. Pete Mitchell did not follow anyones rules or schedules, so Tess made her own. He was the only wild card in her life because she allowed him to be. She went to college in a town with no military affiliation, nowhere near a base or a landing strip. And even though she bounced around from town to town, state to state, it was never hard to find a teaching job. Until schools stopped hiring new teachers, and started firing them instead. 

Losing her teaching job was a wild card she’d never anticipated - last one hired, first one fired turned out to be more than a cautionary tale- but lucky for her, her dad's old friend Penny Benjamin owned a bar in Miramar and was looking for a new bartender. 

And even luckier for her, she didn’t know any naval aviators in the area. 

Until now of course. 

She knew where Rooster was all the time, kept track of him because nobody else was. And he was not supposed to be here. He was supposed to be overseas, not in Miramar California. Not walking into this bar. Not about to go on whatever dangerous mission Maverick was going to be taking him on. 

He rounded the bar, not seeing her, heading straight for the uniformed pilots hanging around the pool table. She noticed Maverick turning his own head away, avoiding Bradley’s eyes and the history that lay there. Their tension settled into Tess’s bones, rattling them further. 

“Hey, Hotshot,” Hangman’s voice broke Tess’s trance, “four more on the old timer,” he said, chin nodding towards Maverick across the bar. 

She pulled the four bottles out of the fridge, holding them to her chest with one arm before popping all the tops off with the bottle opener in her other hand in quick succession, setting them on the counter in front of the blonde. 

“Now I know why they call you Hotshot,” Hangman winked, clearly eyeing her now damp white tank. Tess internally groaned at her choice of outfit, but laundry day and hot weather only left her with so many options. 

“Keep dreaming, Hangman,” Tess sent him a wink of her own. He was hot - she wasn’t blind, Jake Seresin was practically a walking Greek god, sculpted by caring, detailed hands - but his ego was far too big for her liking. 

And besides, the other half of her heart just walked through those doors. 

“They still call you that?” Maverick asked when she had made her way over to his side of the bar again. Tess never joined the Navy or any other branch of the military, but growing up as Pete Mitchell’s daughter meant she learned how to fly a plane at probably a too young age and that she earned a few things she never necessarily wanted. A callsign was practically included in the package. 

“I’ll take ‘things you would know if you stayed in contact with your daughter’ for 200 please, Alex,” he had the nerve to laugh at her remark as she swept by him, pouring two shots, handing them to waiting hands and then coming back down to wipe the bar clean. It was unnerving, having him just sitting there as if he hadn’t completely ignored her for almost a year.

“You remember why we started calling you that?” 

“Cause I like to show off,” she said cooly, straight faced, still bustling about. 

Maverick smiled. He vividly remembered the first time he called her that, nearly lost his mind because she was visiting and he took her to the hangar to see all the aircraft. Turned around for two seconds and she was gone. 

He found her quickly, like father like daughter she was drawn to his F/A-14 with all the curiosity a six-year-old could muster. When Mav finally caught up with her she was half way up the ladder to the box, ready to take a ride with her dad. ‘Slow down there, Hotshot.’ He laughed about it with her mom on the phone later that night, after she called to say goodnight, and the nickname just stuck. 

“They know you’re teaching?” She asked once she was once again in ear-shot of him, head jerking in the direction of the oblivious naval aviators in the back while she pulled her long black hair into a low ponytail, eyes searching for more of those damn souvenir mugs. Pete noticed how light it had gotten since the last time he saw her - much more of a dark brown than the black it had been for most of her life - and wondered how long she had been hiding out here in the California sun. “Penny! We have any more boxes of those mugs up here?” She called over a shoulder.

“How’d you know I was teaching?” 

She smiled. “A woman never reveals her sources.” Tess didn’t need to tell him that a strong pour in the right hands usually got her the answers she was looking for, and then some she wasn’t looking for. She knew about the mission (well, she knew about the vague details she was able to squeeze out of Cyclone), she just didn’t think they were crazy enough to call her father in to lead it. 

“How long have you been here?” 

Tess smirked. “How was it going Mach 10?” 

Maverick’s smile dropped completely. “How did you-“ 

“I think the rest are in the basement, peach cheeks,” Penny called from the other end of the bar, interrupting her father.

“Aw, damnit,” Tess groaned, looking up to the ceiling, beyond the comical number of model planes and jets and anything else that flew were more souvenir mugs. The bar was decorated with them, but they were just that, decorations… Well, they were supposed to be anyway. She weighed her options and decided that the bar was far too packed for her to make her way to the basement and back in a timely manner. 

She couldn’t just leave poor Penny up here by herself, now could she?

“Did she just call you peach cheeks?” Maverick asked, eyeing his old flame, the confusion evident in the way his brows creased slightly in the middle and Tess didn’t know if it was from her question or Penny’s words. Tess stopped for the first time since he’d arrived that night, a half-smile that reminded him so much of his own, and braced both arms on the bartop in front of him. 

“About two months ago some drunk creep told me my ass looked like a peach, whatever the fuck that means,” she rolled her green eyes and Pete cursed himself for how much she looked like him right now, “anyway, he ended up paying for a round but now Penny calls me peach cheeks whenever she feels like she wants to annoy me.”

It was the first straight answer she’d given him all night, and he had a feeling it would be the last. 

Tess turned, looking to the ceiling again like the light gray mugs were just going to start raining down on her, and when they didn’t she took a minor running start - really it was just a couple steps across the wide end of the bar - and hoisted herself to the top. Black sneakers landed in a spot nobody was occupying at the time and she stood tall - all five feet and four inches of her - before she started grabbing cups from where they hung above her head. 

She received a couple whistles for her efforts, but her hands were already too full to flip any of them off, and she was concentrating too hard on not falling when the bell rang again, a little harder than the first time. She paused her movements to watch Hangman and two others she didn’t learn the names of yet walk over to Maverick to toss him out into the sand with a smile. 

“Tess?” She whipped around at the sound of his voice, aviators pulled down his nose, eyebrows drawn in in disbelief.

“Hey, Bradshaw,” her smile nearly blinded him.

“Tess Mitchell! What did I tell you about climbing on top of my bar?” 

Like the snap of a finger she was that ten year old kid again, getting yelled at for hanging upside down on the monkey bars at the park his mom used to take them too on the weekends and Rooster couldn’t help but smile at the look that came across her face when she was caught red-handed.

“Sorry, Pen, I’ll replace them later, I promise,” 

Rooster didn’t waste another second, feet moving to the bartop where she was now sitting. She was at the perfect height for him to slot himself into her body, arms circling her waist, her own arms going around his neck while her legs secured around his hips, squeezing him tight.

He still smelled the same as she remembered, his minty aftershave clouding her every thought and judgment. She wanted to keep her face buried in his neck for the rest of time. 

“Hey, Hotshot,” he said the words quietly enough that only she could hear, crushing her body into his. “Damn, how long’s it been?” 

“Too long,” Tess pulled away only so she could see him up close and he gently set her down on her feet, keeping his hands on her body. She took his sunglasses off, hanging them on the front of her tank top before putting her hands on either side of his face, inspecting his dark eyes and golden, sun-kissed skin for any more scars than the ones that already riddled his face. “I like the stach,” she nodded her approval and his smile grew impossibly bigger.

“Yeah? Took me two years to grow,” 

Her belly laugh had him smiling even bigger. “Shit, I missed you,” Rooster could only shake his head at her, amazed that she was even standing in front of him right now. But the amazement was short lived when the joy in her green eyes turned a dangerous shade of dark he hated being on the receiving end of. 

“You idiot,” she landed a firm smack on the side of his head.

“Ow!” He brought a hand up to rub the spot that was sure to be sore in the morning, and he could’ve sworn he heard a few snickering laughs from behind him. “What the hell T?” 

“Why didn’t you call me,” it wasn’t a question, it was a stern statement and Bradley couldn’t help but put his hands on her cheeks, mirroring the position she just had him in, a small smile creeping over his lips.

“I just got in, I was going to call you first thing in the morning.”

The sincerity in his voice, the honesty in his eyes nearly melted Tess into a puddle on the dirty bar floor. 

“We have one rule, Bradshaw.” 

When he lands, he calls. That’s their rule.

“I know, I know, I should’ve called,” his golden eyes danced between her sharp green while they softened. “But, to be fair you didn’t tell me you were working here.”

She simply shrugged, “I told you I was in the area.” 

He could only smile. 

“What’s your boss's name?” He asked, that little glint of trouble shining through his eyes.

“Penny Benjamin.”

The realization of who she was flashed across his already amused face but he tucked that nugget of information in his back pocket for another day because Tess Mitchell was standing in front of him and he wasn’t stupid enough to waste her time. 

“Penny!” He called, ripping his eyes away from her face, “I’m stealing your bartender!” 

“Have her back in fifteen!” And that was all he needed to squat down, throw Tess over his shoulder, and carry her away. 

“Rooster!” She screeched, hands gripping his shirt as if that would save her if he dared to drop her. “Put me down you big idiot!” But he didn’t listen, and she felt his laugh vibrate on her chest and she tried really hard to think of anything other than the fact that his hand was impossibly close to her ass, clamping down on her bare thighs. And that she was one wrong move away from flashing half the building.

He walked over to the Jukebox, squatted down - which Tess tried, and failed, to not be impressed with - and ripped the cord out of the wall. The crowd voiced their disdain but he didn’t slow down. He sat her down on the bench in front of the piano, stole his sunglasses back and swung his leg around so he was seated behind her.

The bench was small enough that she felt every inch of him behind her, and when he started playing Great Balls of Fire, his fellow pilots all crowding around to sing, Tess leaned back into him, singing along with her whole heart that belonged fully to him. 

“Hell yeah, baby, that’s what I’m talking about!” Rooster stood and Tess turned around, high fiving his hand in high before slamming her hand down on his hard ass, him doing the exact same. 

“Hmm..” She hummed, looking around her direct area after their celebration, “it appears I have no drink.” 

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” Bradley took the cue from her hand, passing it off to Bob before holding out his arm for her to take, “this way my lady.” 

“Why thank you kind sir,” Tess looped her arm into his, chin pointed to the sky but his laugh had her breaking and a giggling mess by the time they made it to the bar. Her husband took the chance to once again pin her against his body, both arms coming around to lean on the sticky countertop in front of her, caging her into him. 

Tess leaned back into his strong arms, let the back of her head connect with his chest and fall to the side until it hit his shoulder, and his mouth was like a magnet to her skin, finding it, leaving a trail of hot, scratchy kisses down her neck, turning her body into a putty for his hands. His low moans in her ear had her ready to head for the door. 

“Come on, let’s just go home,” he whined against her skull, right at the base of her jaw, reading her mind. Everything in her vibrated and hummed in response to him.

“I can’t leave my own birthday party early,” she countered, turning so she could place a kiss on his waiting lips. And then another. And then another. 

“What can I get for the birthday girl?” Penny appeared, yelling over the crowd of people.

“Two shots of tequila!” Tess yelled, she turned back to the bar, raising an arm above her head with two fingers held up. Penny quickly looked over her shoulder, confirming with Rooster, who nodded, one quick move of his chin downward - as if he could ever say no to her. 

“I’m in for a wild night,” he commented with a smile, remembering the last time she got drunk off Tequila. It didn’t happen often, but when it did the only thing he could do was sit back and enjoy the ride. 

“Make it three, Penny,” Maverick appeared next to them, clad in his usual leather jacket.

“Dad!” Tess screamed, ducking under Bradley’s arm so she could hug him, “you made it!”

“Of course, like I’m gonna miss my best girl’s birthday?” He hugged her tight, remembering a time when he couldn’t do such a thing. Too afraid of his own mortality to get close to the best thing to ever happen in his life. 

“Here you go guys,” Penny was gone as soon as she arrived, dropping the shots and disappearing. Normally, Tess would be working with her on such a busy Friday night, but apparently there’s a rule around here about working on birthdays - a rule that didn’t exist last year, but Tess knew that was an argument she wouldn’t win. 

“Cheers fellas,”

“Cheers my love,” Rooster held up his glass to hers and Mav’s.

“Cheers sweetheart,” Maverick said, clinking their glasses and then tossing his back. Tess was quick to swallow hers down, and even quicker to shove a slice of lime in her mouth, grimacing against the burn down her throat. Tequila was really great until you had to actually do a shot of it. Bradley leaned down to swipe the lime out of her mouth with his own and sucked down whatever juice was left, leaving Tess staring at his mouth in a not-so-subtle way.

“I’m gonna go say hi to everyone,” Mav yelled over the crowd, placing a quick kiss on his daughter's cheek before disappearing into the mass of people, aiming for the rowdy group in the back. 

Tess’s eyes found their way back to her husbands face, the way his golden skin glowed in the dim lighting of the bar, sunglasses dripping down his nose, that carefree and confident air he had about him left her breathless on a normal day, but with the alcohol buzzing through her system she was about ready to take his clothes off in the middle of this bar. It’s how he’d always been, ever since she could remember. Cool, calm, collected. Her rock in the middle of a storm.

And so damn good looking. Leaning against the side of the bar, one arm resting on the counter, the other hand tucked securely in her back pocket, keeping her close, eyes roaming the room. She noticed that he did that every couple minutes, checked the perimeter for any disturbances, a habit she was sure he picked up from flying. 

“You’re staring,” the left corner of his mouth hiked up an inch and his eyes found their way back to hers. She could only smile back. Caught red handed. 

“Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?” He laughed at her words, remembering exactly the first time those words slipped from his lips.

---

thnks for reading, i love you a whole lot

want more? all you gotta do is ask babes

[hollywoodsargeant]

yes it was the bahrain press con picture. holy wow.

also, chapter eight. i have lots of thoughts.

i loved grace, like adored her so much, she just got their bond and never made logan feel uncomfortable in anyway. i think she definitely kind of knows.

“ being around oscar is as simple as waking up in the morning ” this line in specific made me scream. like scream at eight a.m. i had to re read it so many times. the heavy impact this simple line bad on me is immense.

the rain scene. it was so unexpected, yet it warmed my heart up in ways i cannot explain.

“ i just want to keep you to myself " . he knows its selfish but he can't help but wish for it on the inside 😩.

the oscar's and and callum texts where oscar's like “ you sound like logan” and callum's like “ does that mean you'll.kiss me too?” lmaoooo callum. we stan.

logan's “ you're mine first baby???” and oscar's “ obviously” like do you two understand for that to happen, you need to be together 😐???

the lacrosse practice scene i- 👀.

“you can’t exactly go to university and study Oscar Piastri, mate.” i know he means it light hearted, but i'm certain logan would set the syllabus if he did study oscar piastri in university.

“ maybe then logan would have been jealous” im screaming into the void. oml- the entire kitchen counter scene and how they go back to everything being okay- 💀

i know that was long, but yes i loved every bit of this chapter.

HI. THANK YOU FOR THE THOUGHTS <3 I APPRECIATE THEM ALL

i love grace too rest in pieces grace </3 obv she's not dead but clearly. they broke up. but i liked writing her i know i mentioned it the other day that she very much understood logan and oscar's relationship and was more endeared to it than jealous. Unlike Someone. actually several someones in the future. we'll get there!

and thank you <3 tbh i forgot about that line so thanks for the reminder. that and also the rain scene i'm blaming new religion by heydaze for and there is almost no reason for that. idk listen to that song it's on the playlist and it's rlly good

hehe. logan wants to keep oscar all to himself but OBVIOUSLY like in a friend way... "i can share if he's good" you are lit insane brother stand up. you love him. unfortunately. uh. things are still happening 10k words later i apologize

i am going to change my college major to oscar piastri

[amazingmsme]

Dare to be Bold

AN: Wowie this was a lot longer than I intended it to be, at almost 10k words! I loved writing this so much, it was a blast. Thanks for the prompts y’all, you help me feed my critical role fixation. Spent all day reading & tweaking this, so here it is fresh outta the oven!

The Mighty Nein were all intrigued by Essek to say the least. He was mild mannered, composed, quiet, and nice enough... There had to be another side to him, one where he wasn't the perfect image that he portrayed when people were around. He had to relax and let his guard down sometime. He had to act like a real person instead of the stuffy shadowhand charged with keeping tabs on them.

He only ever stopped by on business. Checking up on them, giving them a new task; it was never just to hang out. The longest he'd stay at their house was to teach Caleb new spells, and the fellow wizard was the only one he'd spend quality time with.

There had to be more to him. He has a favorite food, a favorite song, a secret birthmark somewhere, he has his own life separate from work. Or at least that's what Jester was sure of. She really wanted him to be their friend instead of strictly business partners, but he seemed dead set of keeping their relationship distant and professional. He was gathering his things and was about to head out the door when Jester spoke up.

"How come you never stay? I feel like I barely know you," she mused, propping her face in her hands. He let out a warm chuckle.

"And I'd prefer to keep it that way. I'm a busy man, surely you understand," he said with a small smile.

"What's your favorite color?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. His patient smile grew slightly more genuine. "Navy blue."

"What's your favorite season?"

"I don't think I have one, really."

"What's like, the weirdest dream you've ever had?"

"Does she always ask this many questions?" Essek asked with slight amusement.

"Ah, only sometimes," Caleb said, sharing an amused look with Jester. She just beamed up at him.

"Well I want to know some things about him. I'm sorry Essek, but right now your personality is like cardboard." Caleb's jaw dropped in disbelief and embarrassment as Essek dipped his head down to try and hide his amusement.

"Jester!"

"What? It's the truth, he always acts so proper and boring, like it's such a chore to come see us," she whined.

"That's because it is his job," Caleb said, fixing her with a look. She merely giggled.

"It's alright Caleb. I'm just, more serious and professional than what you're used to," he said to Jester.

"Hey, I can be serious too ya know," she said, schooling her features into a tough expression. Essek merely nodded, eyebrows raised.

"Oh I'm sure you are. After all, I don't think you all could survive the work you do if you were so foolish all the time," he teased. She scoffed indignantly, but a wide smile was in place.

"Wow, I didn't think you even knew how to tease someone. That was really good," she giggled, holding out her hand for a high five. He looked at her hand, casting a quick glance at Caleb before turning away and opening the door.

"Yes well, thank you. Have a good day."

"Why not stay for dinner? You've never taken us up on the offer and Caduceus is a really good cook."

"I'm afraid I'm busy tonight. But I have another lesson with Caleb tomorrow, I'll see if I can clear my schedule then." She gasped and jumped up from her seat in excitement.

"Oh my gosh, really? Waaait... you're not just saying that to make me shut up, are you?" she asked incredulously. Caleb shot her another look, which she ignored.

"Not at all Miss Lavorre. I am a man of my word," he said.

"Alright, leave him be, you've pestered him long enough," Caleb chastised.

"You just want him all to yourself so he can teach you cool wizard shit," she said pointedly.

"Exactly. Now shoo," he teased, waving her away.

"Bye Essek!" she chirped, rushing forth to wrap him in a hug before he could escape. He let out a startled laugh, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her and giving her back an awkward pat.

"Ah that's right you are rather... affectionate," he said, pausing to find the right word.

"Damn right I am!" She punctuate her words with a playful poke to his side, causing him to stiffen up and suck in a startled breath.

"Right then. S-see you tomorrow," he said, slipping out of her grasp and through the door with little more than a wave. When Caleb turned back around, Jester was staring at him with an excited, shocked expression.

"Uh oh, that's never a good look," he said, meeting her gaze.

"Caleb, did you see what I just saw?" she asked excitedly.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say no."

"I think Essek might be ticklish!" she exclaimed. Caleb did a double take towards the door, blinking in confusion. He turned back to her, brows furrowed and smirking.

"I'm sorry, you lost me. Just how did you come to this conclusion?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Just now when I poked him, he jerked away and got like, super still. And I heard him gasp like he wanted to laugh but was holding back," she explained. Caleb rubbed his temple.

"Or more likely, he is a man of great importance and high status and is not accustom to weirdos like us touching him all the time, ja? I like my reasoning better." She rolled her eye with a pout.

"Oh come on Caleb, don't be such a buzz kill! Mama always said, everyone's ticklish somewhere, you just gotta try the right spot!" Caleb's eyes went wide and he shook his head.

"Nein Jester, I know what you're thinking. You cannot test this out," he said sternly. Jester deflated.

"But whyyyy?"

"Many reasons why. For starters, he could put in a bad word with the Bright Queen. He is a powerful and well respected man who deserves that respect, and who might retaliate if we upset him. He could kick us out of this new lovely home, or punish us for crossing a boundary-"

"Wow Caleb, could you come up with any more bad scenarios?" she asked in a mocking tone.

"I am merely thinking logically."

"But he stuttered Caleb! When has he ever stuttered?" she asked, desperate to make her point. Caleb cocked his head in thought.

"Never. Okay, so maybe you have a point. But you can't just go after him out of the blue like this," he decided.

"Okay but what if, like, someone he liked tested it out?" she asked innocently.

"Then that excludes all of us, case closed," he said pointedly.

"Well, he seems to like you..." she said sweetly, swaying from side to side. Realization dawned on Caleb's face and he shook his head.

"Oh no. No, I will not be a pawn in this little game of yours."

"Pleeeeaaaase? He'd probably like, break my wrist if I even tried."

"Ja, and I don't want mine to be broken either," he scolded.

"He'd never do that to you though. You two have this growing bond, I can sense these things." Her words caused a blush to spread over his cheeks, lips pressed together.

"N-no, I don't know what you think we do in there but it is strictly work. He's taught me a few spells and we talk about magic. That is the extent of our relationship," he said.

"Wow, you two sound like the most boring people ever," she said, flipping a lock of hair. Caleb scoffed, shoving her lightly.

"I'll have you know it's actually very fascinating."

"Not as fascinating as the fact he might be ticklish!" Jester insisted. Beauregard and Fjord just happened to be walking by and inserted themselves into the conversation.

"Who, Caleb?" Beau teased, scratching along his sides from behind making him squeal and arch his back. He shot her a glare as they all laughed.

"No silly, everyone knows Caleb's ticklish," Jester giggled, causing a noise of protest from said wizard. "I'm talking about Essek!" This piqued both their interests.

"No fuckin' way, Essek's ticklish?" Beauregard asked, excitement and disbelief clear in her voice. She wore a wide, dangerous smile and a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"Weeeell, we don't actually know like, for sure, but he totally squeaked when I poked him! I was just convincing Caleb to try it out tomorrow when he has his next lesson," she chirped.

"Ah, you were not convincing me of doing anything," Caleb denied. The monk sighed, shoulders sagging in disappointment.

"C'mon man, what's the worst that could happen? Just, y'know, take one of your quills and run it over those stupid long ears of his, it's not that hard," she reasoned.

"For starters, he could get very mad at me and never share any spells with me ever again. Or worse, he could use them against me. You seem to have forgotten that he has the potential to be a very dangerous man, a man who we know next to nothing about," Caleb insisted. "Fjord, back me up on this."

Fjord was quietly listening, mulling over the possibilities in his head. "You've got a point, we don't really know what he's about."

"See?" Caleb said, gesturing to Fjord and giving both Jester and Beauregard a smug, "I'm right" look. A look that faded upon hearing the following words from Fjord's mouth.

"Which is why I think it would be interesting if we were to find out," he continued with a smirk. Jester yelled in triumph and gave him a high five that left a satisfying sting.

"I don't think there'd be any harm in finding out," Beau shrugged.

"Well I do."

"Come on Caleb, don't be such a stick in the mud. I dare you to tickle Essek tomorrow," Jester said, grinning so wide her face was practically split in two. Caleb's eyes bugged out of his head, a red blush painting his cheeks.

"Excuse me?"

"I double dog dare you!" she cried, tail wagging mischievously behind her.

"Nein," he shook his head, adamant in his stance.

"I triple dog dare you!"

Caleb was unable to fight off the amused smile on his face. "Still no."

"It's okay Caleb. I don't think any of us actually thought you'd go through with it anyways," Beauregard said in a patronizing tone, patting his back. He reared back to look at her.

"And what the hell does that mean?"

She tilted her head side to side, shoulders hunched slightly. "Eeeehh, nothing. But you're not exactly known for being bold and playful."

"Well fuck you too, I'm plenty bold," he snapped defensively. Fjord was quick to diffuse the situation.

"Uh, what I think Beau means is that you're not one to stir the pot. Unless of course you're provoked," he winked, slinging an arm over his shoulders and giving him a gentle shake.

"And are you trying to provoke me right now?" he asked, arching a brow. Fjord would be lying if he said the anxious twitch of Caleb's fingers didn't awaken his fight or flight instinct.

"Why don't you keep that energy focused on Essek," he advised, stepping away from him nonetheless.

"See Caleb? You're totally a tickle monster when you want to be!" Jester cooed. His blush returned and he adverted his gaze to the ground, but he sported a sly smile.

"I know, you speak from experience," he teased. Jester let out a muffled squeak, wrapping her arms around her belly.

"Shut uuuup! This isn't about me!"

"Honestly, I don't even know why you all care so much. Fine, I will ask him."

Beauregard shook her head, arms crossed over her chest. "Uh uh, he'll just lie. You gotta test it." The smirk she wore was downright wicked, and Caleb was relieved that it wasn't directed at him for once.

"Sheisse. Alright I will. Are you happy now?" he asked, more frustrated and flustered than he was at the beginning of this conversation.

"I'll be satisfied if you actually go through with it."

"What, do you think I'm going to chicken out or something?"

"Uh yeah, that's exactly what I think," Beau said with a wide, teasing grin. "In fact, I bet five gold you won't actually do it," she said smugly.

"I'll second that," Fjord said with a nod, raising two fingers to signal that he was in on the bet as well. Caleb stared between them in shock.

"Are you serious right now?" he asked, mouth slightly agape.

"Dead serious."

"Good, as am I. Tomorrow, you will see that I didn't chicken out and I will be ten gold richer," he said matter of factly.

"We'll see about that," Fjord joined in on the teasing.

"Just wait, at around 3:30 you will most likely hear a lot of laughter come from my room. And if you don't, assume he killed me for even trying," he said, only half joking.

"That's the spirit! Oooh I can't wait!" Jester cried with excitement.

Of course she immediately rushed off to spread the news to the rest of their group, giddy with excitement. Needless to say, everyone was eager to find out what would happen the following day. Tomorrow came soon enough, and when Essek arrived, he immediately picked up on the energy in the house. There was almost a tangible excitement buzzing in the air and he looked around the entryway with a judging eye. It was no surprise that Jester was the first to greet him.

"Helloooo how are you todaaaay?" she asked in her usual quirky drawl.

"I am fine," he hummed, continuing to scan his surroundings. Jester gave a small pout.

"You don't look fine, you look all grumpy," she pointed out.

"Just have a lot on my mind I suppose. Where's Caleb?"

"Right here," Caleb said, walking down the stairs. "Sorry, I was setting things up," he apologized. His hair was a bit disheveled and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the shadowhand. If he seemed more anxious than usual, Essek didn't comment on it.

"No worries. Let's get started then, shall we?" Caleb gave a curt nod, leading him up to his room. "Are we not studying in the tower today?" Essek asked.

"Nein, I am feeling a little lazy today, I'd rather stay in my room," he lied easily. The real reason being that he promised the rest of the mighty nein that he would keep them within earshot to prove he actually followed through.

"Not too lazy to learn I hope," Essek said, unamused.

"I could never be too lazy for that," he replied, a wide grin in place. They reached his door and Caleb held it open for him, allowing Essek to walk in first.

"Hm, your room is just as tidy and drab as I imagined it," he hummed, walking over to the desk. Caleb blushed at the backhanded compliment, fumbling for words.

"W-well we haven't had the chance to get much decor," he reasoned. After that snide little comment, he couldn't wait for 3:30.

"Your friends seemed... excited about something," Essek spoke up as he laid out various scrolls and spell components. He watched carefully as Caleb went a little stiff. "Any particular reason?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but they are an excitable bunch, ja?" Essek looked him up and down with a hum.

"Indeed. Well, we shouldn't waste much time. Let's get to it, shall we?" he asked, pulling a chair next to the bed where all the pages were spread out. Caleb's desk was a little small for what they had planned for today. Caleb himself sat on the bed, propped up with pillows with his legs stretched out.

"You can sit on the bed if you'd like, it's more comfortable than that chair," he invited, figuring this would be easier if he started warming up to him now.

"Uh, thank you but the chair is more than fine." Caleb had to shift the page he was holding to hide his smirk. Before he had arrived, Caleb had cast a simple spell on the chair to make it more uncomfortable the longer you sat in it. He was quite proud of it. That chair wouldn't be "fine" for very long.

"You're looking rather smug. Mind sharing with the class?" Essek asked, cocking his head to the side. Caleb startled at the question. He couldn't get caught this early, money (and his pride) was on the line.

"I am just a little... giddy about today's lesson. A lot of pranking potential in making objects lose their gravity," he mused. It was easier to lie because there was so much truth wrapped in his words. Essek let out a smooth, practiced chuckle and shook his head.

"I didn't picture you as the pranking type," he mused.

"That's because you don't know me," Caleb said, being so bold as to shoot him a wink. Essek blinked in suprise, looking him up and down.

"Hm, I suppose I don't." He went back to the pages of spells in front of them, but before he could continue with his teachings, Caleb spoke up once more.

"I have to be."

"What was that?" Essek asked without looking up.

Caleb continued, "I have to be the pranking type if I am to fit in with the group. I must admit, it is fun. It makes me feel normal again, and less like the man I have become." He now had Essek's full attention, his expression hard to read.

"And who is that man?" he asked, leaning forward. Caleb noticed him shifting in the chair uncomfortably, trying to find a better position.

"I thought I knew, but now I'm not as sure," he said, staring deep into his eyes.

It took a moment for Essek to answer. "You are a powerful man, Mr. Widogast. You're practically dripping with potential, I can see what the Assembly saw in you. But you must be careful who you let shape you. And while this group you've found yourself in is... eccentric, I can tell they have been good for you."

Well this suddenly got personal. A little too personal for Caleb's liking, but his words did offer a comfort. "Thank you, Herr Thelyss," he said with a soft smile. "But please call me Caleb. Mr. Widogast doesn't sound right," he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Essek returned it with a smug smile of his own.

"In that case, just call me Essek. I think we're well past the point of formalities."

You have no idea, Caleb wanted to say, but he was smart enough to keep that to himself. Essek's face scrunched up in discomfort, wiggling in the seat. When that still didn't work, he crossed one leg over the other, then crossed them the other way. With a defeated huff, he pushed the chair away and sat on the edge of the bed. His posture was ramrod straight, his body tense as he sat as far from Caleb as he could.

He rolled his eyes, clearing a larger space and patting the spot next to him. "Sheisse, you act as though I'll burn you if you get too close. I don't bite," he teased. Essek let out a nervous chuckle, conceding by resting his legs on the mattress, stretched out in front of him.

"I'd be concerned if you did," he teased right back.

"Jester will be pleased to know you actually have a sense of humor," he mused as he copied a spell.

"Was that ever up for debate?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh you'd be surprised."

"I'll have you know I can be quite hilarious," he insisted.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he countered smugly. Essek scoffed and bumped their shoulders together, making Caleb's smile grow. Caleb glanced down at his feet, brows furrowing.

"No shoes on the bed please. I know your feet never touch the ground, but still," he requested. Essek complied, easily slipping them off. He set them off to the side with a wave of his hand.

"Of course, it is your room after all." Perhaps this was going to be easier than he thought.

They study for an hour and a half, Essek teaching and explaining a few new spells. 15 minutes left until 3:30... Within their study session, he's been twitchy and restless. His leg shook as he recited the verbal components of one of the spells, Essek's eyes glued to his movements.

"You're quite fidgety for someone claiming to be so lazy," he noted. Caleb immediately forced his leg to still, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Ah, just some pent up energy I suppose," he excused. They both jumped out of their skin when a knock rapped against the door.

"Who is it?" Caleb asked, scrambling off the bed the same time the door opened.

"It's just me- oh. Don't you two look cozy," Caduceus said in his usual calm, polite manner. Both wizards were blushing profusely, Caleb in the middle of crawling over Essek's legs in an attempt to go open the door before he came in. It left them in quite the position.

"What do you want Caduceus?" Caleb hissed. He had told all of them to leave them alone! And he had been sure he'd locked his door.

"I come bearing refreshments," he said, holding up a tray with two glasses on top. "It's a new blend of green tea and jasmine, mixed with some fresh lemonade." Caleb sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple and rubbing as he walked over to his friend. He took the glasses from him.

"Thank you Caduceus, but I would appreciate it if you would wait for me to open the door next time, ja?" he asked, annoyance laced in his voice.

"Sorry, I didn't know what I was walking in on," he apologized. Caleb's blush returned as he escorted him out.

"You walked in on nothing! We are just studying, now please leave I have a lot of work to do." Then, quietly he leaned in and whisper-scolded, "Do you know what time it is? Leave me be I need privacy!"

"Again, sorry to interrupt. I just know how much la- er, spell casting works up a thirst. Mhm, sorry, tickle in my throat," he feigned clearing his throat, winking at Caleb as he left. Essek watched with a scrutinizing gaze, studying Caleb a little closer. He seemed more frazzled than earlier, but then again so would anyone if they'd been walked in on in such a manner.

"What was that?" he asked, fixing him with a studious glare and a raised brow.

"Nothing, y-you know how Caduceus is," he brushed off the question not as smoothly as he hoped. When Essek didn't reply, he rambled on, "Always checking up on people." He hesitated before walking back over to his bed. Essek scooted over against the wall so that Caleb wouldn't have to climb over him to get in his previous seat.

"What were the two of you whispering about?" Essek asked once he settled back down. Caleb refused to meet his eyes.

"Nothing. I was just, ah, getting onto him for barging in here like that."

"Is that so?" he questioned further.

"Ya, it is," he insisted, using all the strength he had not to back down. Essek merely hummed, going back to his teachings. He seemed more guarded and weary of him than before.

Caleb knew the moment 3:30 hit. Now or never. He tried to go about it subtly, reaching down to grab his knee as he shifted his position on the bed. Essek jerked away with a startled gasp.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, hand clasped tightly around his wrist. Maybe he would break it...

"Um, getting comfy. Sorry, I didn't mean to touch you," he apologized, but couldn't hide the growing smirk.

"Is that why you're smiling like an idiot then?" he asked, his former amusement flown out the window. Caleb blushed, said smile wiped from his face. For good measure, he hid his mouth behind his hand.

Now that he was being all huffy, Essek was really getting on his nerves. He deserved every bit of this, he justified. And so Caleb reached up to scratch along his beard, holding his long feather quill as he did so. Watching from the corner of his eye, he made sure to run it over the shell of Essek's ear, just like Beau said. And it was worth it.

Essek jerked away with a surprised yelp, fixing him with a death glare. Caleb continued to act innocent, scratching his chin. When he "noticed" his harsh look he froze, looking at his hand and the soft feather held between two fingers. He gave a sheepish grin.

"Ah, sorry I didn't realize I was still holding it. I didn't mean to tickle you," he apologized. Essek sputtered, a soft purple blush spreading over his cheeks.

"You did no such thing, so no apology necessary," he lied. Caleb tilted his head to look at him.

"You sure about that? You acted pretty ticklish to me. And trust me, I've been around the Nein long enough to know what that looks like," he teased, but also gave him a chance to revoke his lie.

"Well I am not, and I suggest you keep your hands to yourself," he advised in a harsh tone.

"Okaaay," he said, going back to his work. He grumbled under his breath, "Seemed pretty ticklish though," he said more to himself than anything.

"Well I'm not, so drop it," he demanded. Caleb's eyes widened, not expecting the shadowhand to be so defensive. As if to challenge him, he raised the feather once more and gave his ear another swipe. This time, a short giggle followed.

"Surely you of all people know that lying is a punishable offense," he teased. Essek scrunched his shoulders up high in an attempt to block his horrible touches.

"Nohohot for mehe!" he scolded through giggles, reaching up to snatch Caleb's wrist. He didn't try to struggle or pull away, but rather leaned in closer. The stern anger on Essek's face melted to nervousness as he leaned away.

"Are you saying that you are above the consequences of your actions?" Caleb asked, a growing smirk overtaking his features.

"N-no, no one is-" Caleb cut him off with another flutter of the feather to his ear. An uncharacteristically high pitched giggle escaped him as realization dawned on him. He was trapped. This whole thing was a trap. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had planned this from the beginning," he accused.

"As usual you are right." Before Essek could react, Caleb's hand darted down to his knee and squeezed. Much to his delight and Essek's horror, he snorted very loud. His eyes went wide, both hands covering his mouth in shock. Caleb was grinning ear to ear, letting out a few snickers of his own, the bastard. He went back to squeezing his knee, this time going after both of them. He let out a slightly muffled squeak before falling victim to a fit of loud laughter.

"Stohohop this ahahat once!" he demanded, trying to scamper away on the bed. Caleb grabbed his legs to keep him in place, but allowed him a moment to catch his breath. "Alright, but only for a second."

"Whahat the fuck do you think you're doing?" Essek hissed, reaching to try and pry his grip loose. His grip was surprisingly strong.

"Tickling you, what else?" he asked nonchalantly, as if it was the stupidest question in the world. To make matters worse, he reached under him to scribble the backs of his knees as he asked. Essek snorted again before bursting into melodious laughter, tucking his knees in and managed to roll onto his side. His cheeks were growing a darker shade of purple before he grabbed his shirt's collar and pulled it up to hide his face.

"Oh no you don't. You can't hide from me," he tsked, pulling it back down. He used the opportunity to scratch under his chin, earning a giggly shriek. His chin slammed down to the base of his neck, trapping Caleb's fingers. His nose scrunched up as giggles and snickers continued to pour from his mouth.

"Hehe, you look like you have a double chin right now," he teased, wiggling his trapped fingers. There was a flash of anger for a brief second before utter embarrassment took over. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at Caleb's dumb, happy, smug face. Okay, maybe he peaked every few seconds.

"Quit ihihit or ehelse you'll rehehegret being bohohorn!" he threatened. He was as intimidating as anyone in that position would be. Caleb knew in the back of his mind that he should heed the warning. That's what the last shred of self preservation he does have tells him. But if he doesn't listen to that part of his brain in a life threatening fight, there's no way he'd listen to it now when he's having this much fun.

"Already way ahead of you," he joked at his own expense, shifting Essek's legs into a headlock. Essek's brows shot up to meet his hairline, frantically shaking his head. "I bet these are rather sensitive seeing as you never bother to use them," he taunted, scratching up his arches.

"Why ahahare you dohohoing thihis? Ihihi thought you wehere mature!" he cried out indignantly. His head was tossed back as hysterical laughter flew from his open mouthed smile.

"I have my pride and 10 gold on the line. You understand," he shrugged, not seeming apologetic at all. Ah, so it was some sort of bet. Blunt nails scratched at his heels and he kicked out as much as he could. "Wow, you're feet are very soft. Did you know that?" Caleb asked, and you could just hear the joy in his voice.

"Yehehes I knohohow! Give thehehem bahack!" he cried out, falling victim to a bout of cackles and shrieks.

"I don't really feel like it," he said, walking his fingers up to the balls of his feet. Essek shook his head, eyes filled with a thrilled kind of terror.

"Don't you dahahare go any farther," he warned, reaching down to shove him away, but Caleb blocked him. Instead of a verbal answer, he started scribbling just underneath his toes. A surprisingly girlish squeal pierced the air and he scrunched his feet in an attempt to lessen the ticklish feeling.

"See, that's what this all started out as: a dare. But now we're both enjoying ourselves," he teased, shooting him a wink as his dexterous fingers wormed their way between each toe. Essek shrieked, cheeks a dark purple.

"I-I ahaham nohohot! Whahatever mahahakes you thihink that?" Essek asked indignantly. Caleb's grin nearly split his face in two.

"For starters, you're laughing way too much to not be at least a little happy," he teased, squeezing both of his knees all of a sudden. He kicked out with a snort.

"Y-you're mahahaking mehehe!" he whined. Caleb shrugged smugly.

"Ja, I am, aren't I hilarious? But we both know you could easily make me stop. I'm not exactly strong," he pointed out, knowing from experience how flustering it was to be called out on your true thoughts on the matter. Essek shook his head, reaching up to cover his ears so he wouldn't have to listen to his teasing. For some reason, he thought Caleb wouldn't be such a tease. How foolish he'd been.

"Ihihif I could concehehentrate you'd behehe dead!" he continued his thinly veiled threats. Caleb actually cooed at him, leaning into his personal space as his fingers spidered up his ribs. Essek shrieked, arms crashing down to press against his sides.

Caleb tsked, shaking his head. "There you go again, trapping my fingers. Almost like you don't want me to stop," he teased with a wink, setting Essek's already profound blush aflame.

"Ihihi most certainly dohoho!" he tried to scold through his hysterics.

"Tell you what, if you can lift your arms so I can get my hands back, I'll stop," Caleb bargained. Essek shook his head as laughter poured from his lips. Caleb's brows shot up in surprise, his grin growing. "No? And why not?"

"Ihihi cahan feel you c-crossed your fihihingers! You're lying!" he spat out. Caleb gave a smug yet sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulder. He uncrossed his fingers, wiggling them in between his ribs earning another shriek of laughter.

"Guilty. Okay okay okay, now lift your arms and I'll stop for real this time," he promised. Essek glared at him through watery eyes, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks and he wore a bright smile. Essek studied him even through his hysterics judging whether or not he should believe him. Finally, he slowly lifted his arms with a great deal of hesitation. His arms would jerk down a bit as he watched Caleb for any signs of an attack. Caleb only continued to smile the most dazzling smile Essek had seen from the man. Damn him.

Then his eyes flashed with a mixture of mischief and danger and before Essek could get away, he dug his fingers into his willingly exposed hollows.

"You fuhuhucking trahahaitor!" he yelled, immediately curling in a ball, arms pressed to his sides. Caleb laughed along with him, pulling his hands out from under his arms. Their laughter faded into the air, Caleb's much sooner than Essek's.

"Ohoho man, I'm sorry friend but I was having too much fun to stop," he apologized, patting his shoulder.

He greedily sucked in air, reaching out for the iced tea Caduceus had brought and gulped a quarter of it down. He smacked his lips, looking at the glass with a pleased expression, muttering under his breath, "Damn it, that's good." He took another large sip and set it down, flopping onto the mattress in an exhausted motion. He shot a glare at Caleb, "What the hell was that for?"

"Well, like I said; I was dared and then money got involved. But ah, you might've been laughing too hard to hear me," he teased with a wink. Just when his blush began to fade, it returned in full force.

"So... you were planning this from the start," Essek mused from where he laid on the bed.

"Yes, but you should know I was adamantly against it," Caleb said, hoping to smooth things over.

"And yet here you are: luring me here under false pretenses to torture and make a fool out of me. Besides, you clearly weren't very opposed to the idea." He regained his breath rather quickly, and when he turned to look at Caleb, all that mirth was gone. His features were set in a harsh glare and a fire burned in his eyes.

Caleb's own happy expression immediately fell from his face. "No! No that's not what I did at all! I really do appreciate our time together and learning these spells," he assured. "We did not do this to mock or make fun of you. Jester was just curious and got a little carried away-"

"Oh but you are the one who got carried away, if my aching belly is any proof," he sassed, raising to a sitting position. "I warned you multiple times to stop, and yet you ignored my pleas." Caleb looked down at the mattress, feeling guilty.

"I am sorry, but I've never heard you laugh like that before. And it felt nice to, y'know, be the one to make you lose your shit like that," he said, not meeting his gaze. Essek's expression softened for a moment.

"I... agree, that is the most I've laughed in quite some time. But there are other ways you know. Sure it might not be as- unhinged as what you just heard, but you could get a chuckle out of me. And I would think that would be more than enough," he scolded. And just because he could, he smacked Caleb upside the head. It wasn't meant to hurt, but rather to reprimand and startle him. And maybe make him feel a little more guilty than he already was.

"I-I know, I tried to tell them, but then they said I didn't have the guts to test it out. And by then I was more than a little curious myself," he rambled. "I really am sorry if I made you think we were doing this to make fun of you. We respect you. I respect you." He finally managed to look him in the eye. Then the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he looked back at the bed. "And just because the whole house heard you giggling like a school girl doesn't mean we don't."

The gentle expression that had managed to find Essek's face dropped upon hearing the teasing. "Oh Caleb... they were right about you." Said wizard's head snapped up, a confused and startled look on his face.

"What?" he breathed out.

"You really have no self preservation, do you?" he asked, amusement and mock sympathy lacing his voice. Caleb's brows shot up in surprise and he turned to make a run for it, only for his door to lock itself. He winced, standing there in the middle of his room and slowly turned to face Essek.

He'd seen that look before, and it never boded well for whoever it was directed at. It was a look of anger and determination, and it was utterly terrifying. Celeb felt himself shrink under such a gaze as he loomed closer.

"I-I'm sorry Essek, I really am. I-if you never want to teach me magic again, or if you want to take away the spells I just learned, I won't stop you. You have every right to-" Essek held his hand up to stop his ramblings.

"I do not wish for any of those things. But you will not get out of this unscathed." Without warning, or perhaps that was his warning, Essek cast hold person on him, and Caleb's never felt more screwed in his life. His eyes went wide and a nervous grin overtook his features. He cracked his knuckles, taking a step forward.

"Essek, please, I said I'm sorry. T-there's no need for this! I mean, do you really want to stoop to our level?" Essek leaned in, resting his hands on the dips of his sides. Caleb gasped, biting his lip to try and contain any sounds.

He whispered in his ear, "Right now, I'd love nothing more." Caleb was speechless as Essek leaned back to look directly at him. "Oh and just so you know, I won't stop until I feel like it, regardless of begging. After all, that's what you did to me," he said. He looked to the ground, shaking his head with a low chuckle. "Remember, you brought this on yourself."

Caleb whimpered at the teasing remark, trying to resist the spell and break free, but Essek grabbed his still body and plopped him onto the bed. Essek took a moment to position him, lifting his arms above his head without struggle.

"Please, you don't have to do this! I said I'm sorry, I won't do it again," he pleaded as he watched him roll his shirt up to expose his stomach. He yelped, more out of anticipation and nerves than anything.

"Oh but I'm afraid I have to. I must make an example out of you, so your friends will know what will happen to them if they are to be so bold," he spoke in a calm, even manner that sent chills up Caleb's spine. He couldn't even squirm... he'd really dug his own grave. A surprised, breathy giggle slipped out as Essek spidered his fingers over the soft skin. "Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't get some well deserved revenge?" he asked, flashing a genuine smile. Even through his giggles he breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Essek wasn't as mad as he expected. But of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't make him live through hell.

"A-aha, so you ahahadmit we're friends?" Caleb asked, sucking his belly in. His fingers followed easily and began to pick up speed.

"Well, I never outright denied the claim. And if we're apparently comfortable doing this, I guess we are," he said, sounding a little surprised himself. As though the prospect of them actually being friends rather than work companions was entirely new. He shook himself out of the thought, prodding up his sides.

Caleb shrieked, a bought of bright laughter filling the air. His immediate reaction was rather pleasing for Essek to hear. He squeezed his fleshy sides, eliciting a loud snort. Essek's smile widened at the sound.

"You're this ticklish and you decided to test your luck with me? Not your brightest moment," he teased. His fingers prodded and vibrated on his stomach, and if he could, Caleb would've curled into a ball by now.

"Shuhuhut up!" he snapped, cheeks turning red. Essek's jaw dropped in shock, digging his fingers in a little more and picking up the pace. His hysterical giggling turned to deep bellylaughs, and his arms strained to pull down against the spell.

"Have you no manners, or do you just want me to tickle you stupid?" he asked in a huff. Poor Caleb's blush turned a shade darker from the mean taunt. To make matters worse, he couldn't even shake his head. So he had to answer verbally, lest Essek think he actually does want that.

"Nohoho dohohon't!" he squealed, trying with all his might to save himself against the spell. Due to his persistent laughter, it was an epic failure.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't," he said, fingers crawling up his ribs.

"Ihihit tihihihickles!" he squealed, nose scrunched up adorably as he laughed. Essek chuckled along with him.

"I said to give a reason why I should stop, not to keep going," he teased, pinching at his lowest ribs. His laughter spiked and his body twitched, slowly beginning to regain the ability to move. Essek took notice before eyeing the book holsters on Caleb's chest. He traced around them and his giggling turned more nervous and hysteric.

"Nehehein, nein nohohot thehere!" he pleaded. In that moment, Caleb looked happier than Essek had ever seen him. Perhaps he could understand how he had gotten so carried away with his own torture.

"A good spot I presume?" he asked, taking advantage of the last of the spell to unclip the holster and slide it off. Caleb whined in protest, eyes closed and head tilted back. "I'll take that as a yes," he mused, ghosting his hands over the newly exposed spot. Caleb shrieked before loud, carefree laughter flowed from his lips.

Essek scratched between the spaces of his previously (semi) protected ribs, eliciting a very loud snort from the other wizard. It fueled his embarrassment enough for him to break the spell in order to hide his cherry red face behind his hands.

"Show me that happy face, or I might be compelled to cast again," he threatened playfully. Caleb squealed but shook his head, rolling onto his side. He tucked his knees to his chest, forming a tight ball. Essek grabbed his wrists in one hand to pull them away. Caleb tried to fight him off, but his arms were pulled over his head once more.

Essek wore a triumphant smirk as he leaned in, "I know your friends tease you about being weak, but this is ridiculous," he taunted, scratching his exposed hollow. Caleb let out a scream of laughter, writhing underneath him.

"Shuhut uhuhup! Ihihi cahahan't!" he whined, body jolting as he switched to his other armpit. High pitched cackles escaped from his mouth and his legs kicked in the air frantically, as if he were riding a bicycle.

"You can't what? I'm afraid you'll have to be more clear," Essek said, clearly enjoying the reversal of power in this situation.

"Q-quit teheheasing arschloch," he managed to swear through hysterics.

"I may not speak Zemnian, but that certainly sounds a lot like asshole to me. And well, I can't let you get away with calling me that, now can I?" he asked, drilling his thumbs in the center of his underarms.

If Essek giggled like a little school girl, Caleb certainly shrieked like one. The hand returned to cover his mouth, barely muffling the snorts and cackles that followed. Unfortunately for Essek, it also hid that dazzling smile he didn't know he loved so much. Emotions began to swell in his chest; emotions he wasn't quite ready to deal with just yet. He should stop...

But not yet. He did grant him a quick breather as he straddled him, keeping him pinned. Caleb's hair was a wild mess, a few strands stuck to his forehead by a thin layer of sweat. His head flopped back as he panted for breath, letting out a low whine.

"You're being cruel. You're a cruel man, Essek Thelyss," he said in a slightly dazed voice. There was no venom in his words, and his smile remained prominent.

"Then you should keep that in mind the next time you try this," he practically purred. Caleb arched a brow, sweet grin morphing into a playful smirk.

"That insinuates that there will be a next time." Essek floundered for a moment, sputtering for an answer.

"T-there won't," he tried to sound stern.

"If you don't think I'm already planning ahead then you're foolish."

"You do realize I'm not done yet, right?" Essek teased, fluttering up his sides. He squeaked and fell into a stream of giggles, squirming underneath him. His hands crawled their way up to his neck where he cupped his face. Caleb froze, staring deep into his eyes. "You really are a glutton for punishment," he playfully chastised, scratching just behind his ears.

Caleb shrieked, trapped in an endless cycle of snorts and giggles. Essek's gentle hold around his neck made it impossible for him to toss his head around to escape the feeling, and it just heightened the torturously wonderful feeling of hopelessness he was in. If this was the consequences that came with fucking with Essek, then he'd have to mess with the man more often.

"Wow, you just get more ticklish the longer this goes on, don't you?" he asked, as if amazed. Caleb's never felt more flustered.

"T-thahahat's nohohot true!" he denied. Another snort slipped out, followed by shrill giggles.

"No? How about you prove it then," Essek challenged, a hungry, almost predatory look in his eye. His fingers slowed to a stop and he started to lean in. He was leaning in! Caleb licked his lips, closing his eyes as he craned his neck to meet him.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on top of his head, pulling it to the side to expose his neck. His eyes flew open, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What-"

Essek's lips collided with the taut skin of his neck and he blew a loud raspberry that reverberated through the room. Caleb's reaction was immediate.

Hysterical cackling filled the air around him and he weakly shoved and smacked at Essek's shoulders and chest. "Nehehein thihihis ihisn't fahahair!" he squealed, body quickly turning to jelly.

As an answer, Essek blew another raspberry, renewing the laughing fit Caleb had been lost to. He made a show of pulling away, taking a comically deep breath.

Caleb frantically shook his head, "No no nohohoho! You bahahahastard, stohohop!" he pleaded. Essek repeated the process two more times on the other side of his neck before letting him go.

He curled up in a giggling heap, body still twitching from phantom touches that lingered on his skin.

"And that is what happens if you try to tickle me. Do keep that in mind," Essek said with a wink. Caleb whimpered, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over his face. "Oh don't be like that," Essek teased, poking his soft tummy a few times, wiggling his fingers a bit. Caleb squealed, a few short giggles slipping out as he smacked the offending hands. Essek pulled the pillow away without struggle, revealing a rather embarrassed, but happy, looking Caleb.

"I think your face matches your hair right now," he teased, moving some of the stray locks from his forehead. Caleb adverted his eyes, sitting up.

"Shut up, I can't help it. I embarrass easily," he complained. Essek's smile only grew.

"You're telling me." There was a quiet moment filled with a thick tension that neither of them decided to break. Essek smacked the tops of his thighs, standing up. "Well! I believe I must be going. I had another spell I wanted to teach you, but since you wasted our valuable time-"

"It definitely wasn't a waste," Caleb interrupted, a satisfied smile firmly in place. Essek blinked in surprise, taken aback by the statement. "If you ask me, that was time well spent."

Essek huffed out an amused chuckle, staring at the floor. He tilted his head to look at him, pausing to think of what to say. "Yes well, if you had so much fun, you should look forward to our next session. Where you will practice maintaining concentration while casting," he said the last part with a slight edge to his tone, giving Caleb a stern look. Just in case he didn't get the hint, he wiggled his fingers in his direction for good measure.

His mouth gaped open and closed, at a loss for words. Essek smiled proudly, feeling as though he won that conversation. He was putting his cloak on when he heard something at the door.

"Aww that's so cute- Ow!" came Jester's muffled voice.

"You're being loud!" Beauregard scolded in a loud hush. Essek and Caleb locked eyes. Caleb with a look of "oh shit, I'm fucked" while Essek's flashed with anger.

"You're both being loud, we have to leave," Fjord said next. With a quick wave of his hand, the door opened and in tumbled the three of them, plus Nott. They laid scattered on the floor in a guilty heap, Jester grinning up at him nervously with a tiny wave.

"Wha- how long have you been listening?" he asked incredulously. Beauregard answered hesitantly. "Kinda like, the whole time."

"So since around 3:30," Jestered answered. Essek's head snapped to glare at Caleb.

"You had a time picked out?" he asked in a dark yet patient tone. Caleb merely nodded. "Huh. Consider this part one of my revenge.

"What? But-"

"No buts," he shut him down, taking on the air of his authority.

Nott scrambled free, but Essek reached down and grabbed her by her shirt collar and picked her up.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked. Nott threw punches in the air, and yelled, "I'm an innocent bystander! They asked me to come along!"

"It's true, she had nothing to do with this," Caleb spoke up, vouching for her. Essek set her down without a word, letting her dash away.

Essek stepped aside, gesturing with a "welcoming" arm to the others. "By all means, do come in." It wasn't a request, it was an order. They crawled in and stood in the middle of the room, all looking some degree of guilty, some more than others. Fjord looked the most genuine. Beauregard was at least trying to act remorseful, but it was clear she thought this was hilarious. Jester seemed to be quite pleased with herself, barely suppressing her smug grin and doing a rather poor job.

Essek closed the door, trapping them in the room. He then began pacing in front of them and spoke. "I can't believe that you all would devise this scheme."

"You can't? Don't you know us by now?" Beau asked.

"I thought I made the boundaries of our relationship quite clear, but apparently such things mean nothing to you," he scolded. Beau shut her mouth, knowing when to shut up while getting chewed out.

"Look, we meant no disrespect. It was just a little misguided curiosity that got out of hand. You have our word, it won't happen again,” Fjord assured.

"It most certainly will not. And if you feel like testing your luck, I dare you to try. I promise you'll end up in worse shape than Caleb," he said, pointing over to him. He lifted his red face from his hands to let out a sound of protest.

"I don't know, I think I can hold out better than him," Jester bragged aloud.

"In that case I'll be sure to go after you next," he said, glaring her down. She squeaked, wrapping her arms around her body. "Then you," he said, pointing at Beauregard, making her pale. "Then you," he continued down the line, ending with Fjord. He poked his chest, making him lean back. They all looked like scared puppies cowering in a corner. Good, he thought. They should be nervous.

"Wait a minute, does this mean you'll actually start hanging out with us?" Jester asked, not bothering to contain her excitement. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Unfortunately yes."

"Hey don't say that like it's the worst thing ever," Beau said, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, you totally had a blast!" Jester exclaimed. Essek reeled back, cheeks blushing a darker purple.

"I-I did not!"

"You did tell Caleb this would happen again," Fjord spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. "Technically twice." He finally succumbed to the teasing smile that fought its way onto his face. "It's okay if you had a lil fun. We won't tell," he assured the shadowhand, shooting him a wink.

"Caleb is like, really fun to tickle, isn't he?" Jester asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"I am not!" Caleb yelped from his spot on the bed.

"No I'm afraid she's right. But I don't know what you three are so smug about. Using poor Caleb as your scape goat and then eaves dropping on my demise: it's cowardly and conniving, but clever." They hung their heads in shame- well, as much as one can have while biting back a smug grin.

"I'm sorry Ms. Beauregard, is something about this funny?" he asked in a dangerous growl. She quickly schooled her features and shook her head.

"N-no," she bluffed, meeting his eyes for a few seconds before breaking down into snickers, nodding her head. "Yeheah I do, but I can't help it! You're all you but then your laugh is super high pitched. It's uh, shocking."

"You would all be wise to sleep with one eye open until further notice," Essek said, glaring them down one by one. Fjord shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

Jester rocked on the balls of her feet, tentatively asking, "You aren't like, actually planning to sneak into our house in the middle of the night just to tickle us, are you?" she asked nervously. She gasped and a hand slapped over her mouth. "Oh no you guys, I think I accidentally gave the Traveler an idea!" she squeaked in shock.

Essek stared at her, blinking in shock. "Um, no but the fact you feel compelled to ask that is a little concerning," he said a little wearily, keeping an eye on all of their hands. He stood at the doorway, ready to leave. He turned to face them and said, "Don't worry about Nott, she'll get what's coming eventually. As will Caduceus."

Fjord's stomach twisted at the prospect of roping their innocent friends into this mess. Mostly because they'd be in search of their own revenge. "Now wait a minute, he didn't have anything to do with this," Fjord defended.

"Oh but he did," he said, holding up the glass of lemonade tea. He took another sip and offered a tight lipped smile. "He knew what was going to happen and didn't even try to tip me off. I consider that being an accessory after the fact."

"Pft, you say that like it's a crime or something," Jester giggled.

"If I wanted to I could classify this as an assault," he scolded. He paused to let his words take effect before continuing. "But seeing as no one got hurt and I'm already planning on taking matters into my own hands, that won't be necessary." He turned to leave when Fjord spoke up.

"Maybe go easier on us than you did Caleb," he said, gesturing to himself and Beauregard. "We didn't play as big a part in this as Jester." She gasped and pinched his sides, making him jerk away with a quick yelp.

"What is wrong with you? You can't throw me to the wolves like that!" she whined.

Essek gave an annoyed grin and hummed, "I don't think you're in the position to be making requests. Goodbye."

"What's the matter, are you not staying for dinner?" Beau asked teasingly. He let out a half amused, half nervous chuckle.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'd stick around after this."

Jester nodded, "Mm that's fair. Oh wait!" He sighed, turning to face her. "What?" he asked exasperatedly.

"You forgot your shoes! Not that you really need them or anything," she teased, rolling her eyes as she held out his shoes. His cheeks flushed slightly and he took them wordlessly, giving them all a side eyed glance. "You have a really nice laugh by the way."

His mouth gaped open before promptly snapping it shut. "Er- thank you." He slipped on his shoes and left, more flustered than he intended to be.

On his way out, Caduceus caught him in the walkway. "Oh hey, how're you feeling after all that?" he asked in his usual warm tone.

"Exhausted and more embarrassed than I ever remember being," he huffed. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving a comforting pat.

"Heh, I know. But it's good to let those emotions out every once in a while. Like a soul cleanse," he mused.

"Uh, that's not how I see it, but I guess I do feel lighter," he admitted before he could think better of it. "Don't tell anyone I said that," he ordered.

Caduceus held his hands up in surrender. "Not a word." He looked him up and down, as if judging whether or not he was telling the truth.

"Good. Thank you for the tea by the way. Very refreshing." He perked up at the compliment, a wide smile stretching across his face.

"Really? Oh, I'm so glad you liked it," he said with a mix of excitement and relief.

"Yes. I'll be sure to keep your kindness in mind when I go after you," he said absentmindedly.

His smile twitched downwards and his perked up ears dropped. "W-what?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you all have some blame in this."

His gentle smile found its way back on his face and he shook his head. "Nah, I'm an angel." Essek didn't bother to stop the wide grin from forming.

"Maybe compared to the others," he joked. Caduceus chuckled, waving as he walked out the door. "Well I'll look forward to it."

That certainly threw him for a loop. He stopped to look at him, bewilderment and confusion in his eyes. "You do realize that was a threat."

Caduceus just shrugged. "Maybe to you. To me, I just see a new friend finally coming around."

Essek didn't know what to say to that. Instead he just shook his head, chuckling. "You are a strange bunch, that's for sure." He paused before closing the door, looking over his shoulder. "Oh and Caduceus?"

"Hm?"

"Tell everyone to watch their back." With a wink and a quick flash of teeth, he shut the door. He left feeling both tired and rejuvenated, floating a little higher than he normally did. Maybe this group of people were his friends after all.

[hanjizung]

♡ What Love Is ♡

Han Jisung x Reader.

Word count:  10K

♡ Warnings ♡: Smut; non idol AU, DILF!Jisung, older Jisung, OC (kid), possession kink, marking kink, oral (f), overstimulation, begging, masturbation, shower sex, exhibitionism, fingering, creampie, aftercare.

A/N: Finally the second part to Modern Vintage is here. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and please let me know what you think of it! ♡

Summer coming closer could mean many things; families spent more time together since children weren’t going to school anymore, couples had more dates and groups of friends went to eat from time to time to catch up. Overall, most places were fuller during summer, especially beaches since the sun was incredibly hot. You knew some people loved to go out in summer, maybe to travel or to visit some relatives.

Even knowing how summer as a customer was, working in the coffee shop during the season was another experience, some days it was too empty, then on the weekends too full and some days you didn’t even have enough time to eat. Adding to the stress of working during this season, but luckily, summer was just about to end and since you decided to take summer classes to fasten your graduation and get your degree sooner, you were almost completely over which meant that you would be able find a better place to work and help Jisung pay the bills.

A smile appeared on your face when you thought of him. The two of you had been together for almost a little over a year now; he stopped working in the coffee shop with you  after his best friends from college offered him an opportunity to work with them as a producer in their company, that had been a month after the weekend the two of you spent without Jisu, both of them showed up at his night job, (which you learned, he worked at a nightclub as a DJ and he was really awesome at it) asking him to take a moment and go with them for a talk. The next morning you found him drinking coffee in the kitchen, still thinking of accepting or declining, smiling and kissing you when you encouraged him to take the offer.

Since then, he told Minho and Felix about it, and they congratulated him and told him that he would still get the employee discounts whenever he stopped by to visit them (and you, of course.) The Lee brothers, more than being your bosses, they treated the two of you like good friends and worried about you like they were family. You still remember Felix’s face when he saw you kissing Jisung goodbye while Jisu hugged her dad tightly, a grin on Felix’s lips that made him look like a mischievous cat.

“Didn’t I tell you it would be only a matter of time?” he said, startling both Jisung and you, making you turn to look at him laughing, a slight blush coloring your cheeks.

“Felix, you knew we would end up together since he brought Jisu here” you objected, rolling your eyes playfully. “What kind of witchcraft did you do, hmm? Tell me your secret!” you joked, getting closer to him and hugging him lovingly. He hugged you back and patted your hair as if you were Jisu.

“I have eyes, Y/N. I could see the both of you drooling for each other when you worked the same hours” he explained, his brows raised as he turned from you to Jisung, who just like you had his face painted with a blush.

“Oh” Jisung said, scratching the back of his head with his free arm and laughing awkwardly. “I mean, you’re not wrong, Lix. I liked Y/N since the very first time I saw her mess up a drink” your boyfriend said, winking at you.

“Are you saying that messing drinks is the way to get to your heart, Sungie?” you asked, acting as serious as you could, “because if that’s the case, I won’t let you be in the kitchen when I’m teaching Jeongin how to do the difficult ones” you finished, making both of the men in front of you laugh.

“Ah, he doesn’t mess up as much though, I admit Jisung used to be messier than him. Jeongin’s a good boy, he learns quickly like you, Y/N. I’m glad that we hired him, I feel like the place is fuller since he’s been here” Felix said, crossing his arms over his chest and caressing his invisible beard as he looked at Jeongin who was writing down an order. 

He noticed the four pairs of eyes on him and waved to where you were awkwardly. Minho had announced not too long ago that since the coffee shop had been doing better than before now you were short staffed, and since he was planning on giving you a little vacation he made the decision of hiring someone else to help, and that's how you ended up meeting sweet Jeongin, whose cute face contributed to more daily customers as well as Felix's delicious baked desserts. 

Since you were the last person hired, it was your job to teach him everything you knew. He had been there for just three weeks now, and he was a little shy just like you were when you first started working there, but as days passed he joined the talented chefs that you had for bosses and started teasing you and Jisung every now and then. 

The coffee shop never closed, it was open all the seven days of the week, but when Jisung was offered a new spot with his good friends, you decided to throw a party to celebrate, inviting the Lee's and Jeongin, and of course, Jisu's uncles; Chan and Changbin. You also took the opportunity to invite your ex roommate, who happened to visit you at work and the one who you would constantly text when something interesting happened. Jisung said that since the party would be the first time you'd be meeting his best friends, and since he already knew your roommate that you should invite your best friend from college, so after calling him and asking him if he was free he accepted. 

The big important day came, and Jisung dressed with his nicest clothes, putting on that one cologne he knew you loved so much. The party would happen at your department, so when he was ready he announced that he would be rushing to get the missing food before all your guests appeared, leaving you and Jisu to finish getting ready. 

You helped her get ready first, dressing her with a beautiful navy blue dress that she adored since the moment she saw it, then you did her hair and told her to draw something to everyone coming to the party while you got ready as well. 

When you walked out of the room fully dressed, Jisung and Jeongin's back were turned at you. They were talking on the couch, a movie was playing on the turned on television as they talked without paying any attention to the screen, but the conversation soon died when your boyfriend stood up after hearing footsteps behind him. He stared at you, his mouth hanging and a quiet wow leaving his lips as he moved quickly to embrace you and kiss you, ready to whisper how beautiful you looked and how lucky he was to have you. 

"Woah, you look so pretty! You look like a queen, queen Y/N!" Jisu exclaimed, joining her dad and running to hug your legs. Jeongin saw the whole scene, chuckling. 

"You look amazing, Y/N. Honestly, if you and Jisung weren't together I would be inviting you for a drink as soon as I saw you" he joked, raising one of his eyebrows making you laugh. 

"Guess that's too bad for you then, Jeonginnie, she's all mine" Jisung said, pressing a kiss on your cheek and then leaving your side to sit on the couch again. 

Jisu left you to go sit on her dad's lap, and when you were just to sit on the other couch your phone rang, your best friend's photo showing on the screen as you smiled apologetic at the two men in front of you and you walked away to answer. 

"Hi, Y/N. I'm in the building, what floor is it?" his voice greeted you. He was always like this, going straight to the point. 

"The fifth floor, the door number is 190" you told him, hearing through the line how he walked into the elevator and pressed the buttons. "See you soon" you told each other before hanging up. 

You were excited to see him, it wasn't everyday that the two of you got to be at a nice event or even to a party like this, he wasn't a party guy much, and you always went out with your beloved roommate, Chunghee.

You walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and when you were coming back to the living room you heard knocking on the door. Smiling and placing your glass down, you walked excitedly to it and opened with a big smile on your lips, already knowing who it was. 

"Seungmin!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him carefully and hugging him tightly. He responded to the hug politely, patting your back two times and then separating his arms from you, a little shy since it was the first time he was in the presence of your boyfriend. You moved away from him to let him step inside, taking his hand in yours and closing the door behind you. 

"Jisung, Jisu, Jeongin, I present to you my best friend! Seungmin, you already met Jeongin, and this…" you left Seungmin's side to stand behind Jisung who still had Jisu in his lap, they looked at your friend with the same eyes full of curiosity "... Is my family" you finished, smiling at him, your head tilted to the side as you locked eyes with Jisung for a brief moment before returning your eyes to your best friend. 

"It's nice to meet you in person and not just thought pictures" Seungmin greeted, a timid smile on his lips that gained a chuckle from Jisung who responded that it was nice to see him as well, and so you proceeded to sit with Seungmin by your side and start a small conversation with him. 

The room fell silent for a few seconds, the TV working as background noise only until a knock on your door and voices sounding from behind it let you know that Felix and Minho had finally arrived. Jisu opened the door, rushing to get there first and throw herself at the first pair of legs that would be in front of her, making Minho laugh as he struggled to hold a box of something in his hands without it falling. Felix rushed to help his brother by freeing him from the kid's grip, taking Jisu in his arms and squishing her playfully. 

"Hey, welcome!" Jisung greeted, standing up from the couch along with Jeongin to help the two men with the things they were carrying; a cake and something that looked like it was probably ice cream. One of Felix's new experiments, possibly, but you figured that if he had brought it on that special day, it would be an advanced approved recipe. 

"We're so happy to be here, I can't wait to meet Jisung's new bosses. Are they here yet? Are they more handsome than us? Y/N?" Felix asked, lifting Jisu in the air dramatically, making her giggle and turning to you when he was saying the last part, his accusative eyes scanning you. 

"They haven't arrived yet, we'll meet them at the same time, Lix" you laughed, standing up yourself and hugging Minho first, then him. He smiled at you, and then noticed Seungmin who was still sitting where you were, his extroverted self wasted no time and he made his way there, dragging you along with him. 

"Hello, we haven't been introduced yet, I think? If you've heard nice things about a Lee Felix then that's me, but if all you've heard of him are complaints, then it's not me anymore" he joked, presenting his hand to your best friend who laughed politely at his joke. 

"Kim Seungmin, Y/N's friend" he shook Felix's hand and then patted Jisu’s head since she was still in Felix’s arms, offering both of them shy smile along with it. It was so heartwarming to have all your friends and family interacting with each other.

A phone going off distracted you and everyone in the room turned to meet the owner who simply smiled shyly, turning his back and answering. You could hear Jisung’s voice through the introductions of the people who were currently in your house. You watched all of them with a fond smile, but the sudden sensation of an arm wrapping around your waist scared you a little bit, making you turn your face to find your beloved boyfriend who placed a kiss on your cheek, whispering to you that he would be leaving shortly to get his friends. 

You nodded and sat next to Minho on the couch, he was on his phone until he noticed you, straightening his back and smiling briefly at you. He asked how you were doing and how you were feeling about Jisung’s new path, you said that you felt happy for him and that your current concern was that you wanted to graduate to help; your conversation with him finished rather quickly, as the door opened and two strange men walked in through the door, the subject of your conversation with Minho staying behind them and closing the door.

“Everyone, they are my friends and now coworkers, Chan and Changbin,” Jisung announced, taking advantage of the silence that reigned on your little home to present his best friends, a intimidating looking man almost his height with a deadly gaze and a slightly taller one, blond guy who was smiling openly and showing his dimples. 

Jisung stepped forward, a big smile on his face as his hand took yours and pulled you in front of his friends. You weren’t sure why, but your face started feeling a bit hot and you were a little afraid that if you tried to speak, you would stutter instead of speaking properly. To you it almost felt like you were meeting his parents, your nerves getting the best of you.

“Guys this is Y/N, you already know her a little from what I’ve told you” he laughed, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment, his cheeks also a rosy color just like yours were.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” the blond one said, offering you his hand for you to take. You did, extending your shaky hand to him and shaking it, then doing the same with Changbin. 

Your ray of sunshine boyfriend must’ve felt the awkwardness you were irradiating, since he wasted no time in coming to your rescue and started presenting everyone else to them, except Jisu who left Felix to hug Changbin and tell him to pick her up so she could kiss his cheek. While he was busy with introductions, Seungmin approached you quietly, looking at you with a soft smile.

“You okay?” he asked, bumping your shoulder with his own. You looked at him with questioning eyes that only made him chuckle at you. “You looked like you were very nervous,” he explained. 

Closing your eyes, you sighed. “I was! It felt like a meteor hit me, but instead of a space rock, it was reality” you whispered-screamed, looking at your friend with big eyes that soon turned soft when your gaze fell on them. “They seem really nice, though. I’m glad to know that Jisung wasn’t all alone before I met him, you know?” 

“You really do love him, Y/N. I’m glad he makes you this happy” Seungmin smiled at you, his voice full of honesty that made you feel like you had the key to happiness in that exact moment.

The rest of the evening passed faster than you would like to admit; your little home was full with the chattering noises from your guests and chill music playing in the background. The dinner went good too, the table was full and it was like a Christmas dinner or similar, the table full and laughter being a constant proof of the nice atmosphere. Any sign of the existing awkward silence created when Chan and Changbin appeared was long gone now, and you learned a little more about them and how they met with Jisung just like they learned how the two of you ended up together, a story told with additions from almost everyone saying that they always knew how hard you were pining for each other.

Chan started telling how he happened to meet both of his friends; he explained that he met Changbin one night at a party, Chan was the dj and Changbin reached to him to ask him how he managed a cut between two song without it being so obvious (Changbin laughed, exclaiming that even if Chan taught him how to do it, he remembered how the first time he heard it he was shocked.)

Then, both of them usually hung out by the library where Chan mentored Changbin, and one day they saw Jisung with a guitar practicing and decided to ask him what he was doing. Since that day, the three of them started getting curious about song producing, and so they decided to give it a try, being that and their first demo songs the start of a beautiful blooming friendship that lead to where they are now. 

When Chan mentioned their demo songs, you gave Jisung a side eye that clearly translated to him as ‘you’re gonna have to show me those songs’, a look that didn’t Changbin must’ve also caught since he said that those songs weren’t too good and that ‘it was better for everyone to not listen to them’, now making everyone want to listen to them more.

Later, Felix went to your fridge to take the ice cream he had brought and started serving it to everyone with your help. Little Jisu was over the moon because she was finally going to try one of the secret recipes of ice creams that she saw Felix perfecting at the coffee shop, and so more memories were talked upon all of you, not only about the trio of friends, but also about Seungmin and you being childhood friends, then the Lee brothers motivated by Chan’s story decided to tell how they knew they wanted to open the coffee shop. Jeongin opened up too, talking about how he had a lot of doubt joining his current career, but saying that he knew everything would eventually pay off. The evening contributed to you getting to know everyone a little more.

Almost at 10, Jisu was sleepily sitting on Changbin’s lap, you were surprised to see how much she stayed by his side and how the man didn’t seem to mind being with her, it was a little funny too because he seemed to be so tough on the outside, but really all he allowed to see in the few hours he spent in your house he was a softy, and Jisu really knew how to bring that side out of him. When you noticed the little bubbly girl was asleep, you stood up and walked to where he was, but when he realized that Jisu was comfortably dreaming, he stopped you. 

“I’ll take her to her room, where is it?” he asked. You smiled at him as a thanks and guided him there, leaving the noisy living room to Jisu’s dark and silent bedroom. 

You turned on the light for Changbin who was right behind you, and you watched him tuck her in the bed so carefully, like he had done it before. Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to ask him.

“Have you put her to bed before?” your voice came a little quiet, careful to not wake Jisu. Changbin hummed, looking at the sleeping angel in front of him and nodded.

“Yeah, when her mom left, Chan and I were all Jisung had, but we couldn’t help him often, and then we were called with an offer in America and we left.” You listened to him while he was staring at Jisu, your mind imagining these three men trying to take care of a baby, sweet scenarios playing in your head of them learning how to change a diaper and getting scared whenever she cried. “Let’s go back,” his voice brought you down to earth, and he waited for you to step out before turning off the light and closing the door behind him, like a gentleman.

Seeing you walking out of Jisu’s room, your boyfriend watched as you approached the living room with a smile on his face, and when you were close enough he opened his arms for you to take a seat on his lap. You happily did what he desired, kissing his cheek when he wrapped his arms around you. No one in the room was looking at you, too busy paying attention to a horror story Minho was saying from when he was in college to mind the two of you. 

Jeongin was sitting by the table, a piece of cake in front of him that he was eating until he was interrupted thanks to a notification on his phone. When he grabbed it, he saw the hour and he stood up.

“I didn’t know it was this late, I should be leaving, my roommate texted me saying he’s worried” he explained, being the center of attention. On the other couch, Seungmin stretched and stood up as well.

“I can take you home if you want,” Seungmin said, looking in his pocket for his car keys while he waited for Jeongin’s answer. The younger one nodded and added that it would be nice of him to drop him by his apartment.

“Thank you guys for coming, have a good night” you told them when they waved goodbye to everyone. 

“Thanks for receiving us. Congratulations on your new job, Jisung” Seungmin spoke again, shaking Jisung’s hand while Jeongin hugged you and thanked you as well.

After them, Felix yawned and Minho teased him, saying that he was just like Jisu, to which Felix laughed and said that he could be right. They made their way to the front door and said their goodbyes to the rest of you, and that resulted in just you and the producers. Jisung offered to drive them to their new shared apartment.

That’s how you found yourself in the co-pilot's seat with Chan and Changbin sitting in the back giving directions to Jisung who was driving. It reminded you of the first time you got in the car with him and took care of Jisu, then you smiled when your memory replayed all the times you sat there talking with Jisung and admiring him while he drove, he always looked for your hand or rested his on your thigh during red lights.

While Chan was giving directions to Jisung, Changbin chatted a little with you, telling you that he wasn’t too excited to go to his new house because there was a pure mess of boxes and half unpacked stuff everywhere except for their beds.

“I forgot how much I disliked moving,” Chan sighed, eyes closed as he paid close attention to the window. Changbin agreed with him.

Once you were finally there, you saw them coming out of the car. You took Jisung’s hand and with a look you told him to stay there. “We should help them, Sung,” you said. He nodded, knowing that you would be worried if you didn’t voice your kind offer to help your new friends.

“Chan, Changbin, would you like some help unpacking?” Jisung said, helping you out of the car. They were standing nearby, waiting for you two to leave and being surprised when Jisung hurried to open your door.

“Nah, it’s okay. You should go back home, though, it’s pretty late,” Changbin answered after exchanging a quick look with Chan who looked at his phone, probably to check the hour.

“We got this, don’t worry. Thanks for driving us,” Chan contributed, watching Jisung walking slowly to the driver’s seat again. “See you on Monday, Jisung, and see you later Y/N, it was very nice to meet you” he smiled.

“Alright, but make sure to call us if you need anything. See you on Monday” and with that, Jisung started the car and you left. You had no idea when on the way back you fell asleep, but the next time you opened your eyes, the car was slowing down and you could recognize the familiarity of your building’s parking.

“We’re home, baby, wake up” Jisung’s sweet voice called you. You blinked one, two times before sighing and taking off the security belt, stepping out of the car and stretching. You waited for him to do the same and walk together to your department.

“Your friends are really nice, I’m happy you’re gonna work with them. Are you excited?” you asked once in the elevator, looking at him.

“Yeah, I’m excited. It’s been so long since we made a song together or shared ideas for lyrics,” he said, smiling at you and hugging you, pressing a kiss on your face. You closed your eyes, accepting it without saying anything and just enjoying the moment. It was small moments like this when you were glad to start working at the coffee shop.

The elevator stopped at your floor, and the two of you made your way to your comfy apartment. You sighed, knowing that you would have to clean and put away everything that was on the table. When the door opened you finally took off the heels you opted to wear for the occasion, sighing in satisfaction when your feet touched the cold ground. Jisung only looked at you with a soft smile on his face, and he walked up behind you, passing one of his arms under your knees and picking you up bridal style.

“Sungie! What are you doing?” you squealed, acting quickly and holding onto him, afraid that you would fall. Your boyfriend didn’t answer you, instead he smirked at you and kept walking to your room. Once in there, he somehow managed to turn on the light before letting you gently on the bed.

Hovering above you, you were able to see the lust in his eyes before he closed them and finally kissed your lips passionately. Your hands, still on his neck, pulled him even closer to you. You sighed on the kiss, moving one of your hands to his chest and the other tangling in his hair. Jisung took this as an invitation to straddle you, supporting himself with one arm and caressing your face with the other hand.

Soon, the intensity of the kiss ended when he separated to breathe again, pressing kisses on your chin and then travelling down your throat.

“This dress looks so good on you, honey, but I prefer how you look without it. I’ve been thinking about it all day, taking it off you. I’m so lucky that I’m the only one to get to see you like this” he whispered, his voice husky, making you shiver. 

It wasn’t the first time he attacked you like this; it was mostly on special occasions, and usually he asked someone to take care of Jisu, the other times you two had sex it was very late into the night and rather quickly to avoid the exposure to accidents, so him suddenly acting guided by his instincs and fucking you like it was only the two of you in the whole world was one of the last ways you imagined today would end.

“W-wait, Jisung, close the door first” you warned him, pushing him off you. He quickly nodded, making his way to the door and closing it, also locking it and then, he walked slowly towards you who was now sitting on the bed, looking at him with needy eyes. 

His hands went to his belt, slowly undoing it making you bite your lip. He took it off and let it rest at the feet of the bed, now taking his shirt and starting to pull it up until he was in front of you, finally taking that piece of clothing off from his body. Your legs hung open, allowing him to stand between them as one of your hands played with the hem of his pants, you looked at him through your lashes and he placed one hand on your head, patting you dearly before it went down to cup your face and he bended to kiss you, this time more sweetly than before. 

He pushed you gently so you would be on your back, he kissed the exposed skin on your neck, being careful to not leave any hickies since he knew how much you struggled to cover them when you had to go out, he was always mindful of you, unless he wanted to show off that you belonged to him, then he would mark up your neck so prettily for everyone to see. 

He kneeled on the floor, his nose on your thigh sensually caressing you all the way to your right knee, his hands hiking up the skirt of your beautiful dress and then resting now on your hips, exposing your undergarment. Then, one of his hands moved to hold the back of your thigh to put your leg on his shoulder. 

Since the moment he kneeled down on the floor, your mind played images of the countless times Jisung's face was hidden between your legs making you crazy, allowing you to see stars when his magical tongue brought you over the edge. It was inevitable to contain yourself, your pussy getting wet since he started pressing kisses on your legs, torturing preparing you for the orgasm he would soon bring you.

A sigh escaped your lips as you let yourself enjoy the moment, he was holding your other leg open with his hand, allowing him full entrance to your now ruined panties. You were lucky you decided to match the pretty dress with your favorite set of lingerie. He hummed in approval when he saw your wetness.

He had you whimpering lowly, you knew you had to keep quiet but as time passed and Jisung decided to admire and tease you instead of doing something to you, you were starting to grow a little impatient.

"Babe…" you cried out, looking at him with pleading eyes "I need you," but he didn't seem like he wanted to pay attention to your cries.

"You need me? Why, baby? What do you need me for?" he answered, his deep voice making you close your eyes and his words provoking a slight blush on your face.

"I'm so wet for you, please…" you said. It was an obvious answer since he could see the mess he made of you. "Want you to eat me out, please…"

His fingers passed through your needy sex, making you sigh one more time. He grunted, but instead of moving your delicate panties to the side, his face got closer and he pressed a sweet kiss on your mound. When he was done teasing you, he moved away and finally started taking off that piece of lingerie, removing your leg from his shoulder and placing it there again once he had freed you from it.

His lips came in contact with your throbbing cunt, making you groan in satisfaction when his tongue skillfully, dragging it from the center of your wetness, taking a sweet moment to taste you and then going for his objective, his arms around your legs to keep you in place for him to torture you oh so deliciously.

You cursed, eyes closed as you permitted him to pleasure you like he knew you adored, your hand pushing him towards you as an encouragement to keep doing what he was doing, and he never stopped. Your hole throbbed, his tongue went up and down, he sucked and teased with his teeth as well, the sensations overwhelming you but becoming more and more intense, Jisung could clearly hear how you were coming apart and losing your mind from the silent posture you wanted to maintain, but he just loved your moans and heavy breathing when he flicked his tongue a certain way, and how you pulled his hair and you tried to arch your back. You were so beautiful, and to him there was nothing better than to see you like this, so flustered and sensitive from how hard he was going to make you cum.

Feeling how you started to shake, one of your hands flew to your mouth when you knew that you wouldn't be able to resist any more of the sweet torment you were a prisoner for, and suddenly, white hot pleasure numbed you and all you could do was lay there, pulling his hair locks and shaking slightly. Jisung never stopped his attack on you, the overstimulation caused by his tongue provoking a few tears from escaping the corners of your eyes, it felt like something new, like you had unblocked a new level of extasis.

Your high finally ended, and just when Jisung heard you breathing again he slowed down. You hadn't realized he put a hand on top of the one over your mouth to help quiet your cries, but you were certainly thankful that he'd done it, because if he hadn't, your neighbors would think he was ending your life or torturing a poor animal, or even worse, you would have a little girl banging on the door thinking you were hurt or something.

"You taste so good, my love, and you were so good to me too, enjoying how I played with your clit" he murmured, wiping his chin from your essence and standing up from the floor, looking at you with those lusty eyes you'd gotten to know so well, "but I still want you to come on my cock too. Look at me, look at the effect you have on me, Y/N…"

Your hand left his hair to clean your sweaty forehead, you tried your best to look at him when he ordered you to, his pants with an obviously painful erection, your eyes not failing to notice a dark spot that could be seen in the fabric.

Jisung undid the button and unzipped his pants, then slipped a hand under his dark boxers to pump himself, grunting from the touch of his hand against his dick, it was a majestic view you had only seen one time in the shower when he was horny but didn't wanted to wake you up.

It had been after a stressful night at the club full of young college students, he went straight to the shower after arriving home and the sound of the water hitting the tiles of the bathroom woke you up. You had sneaked to the bathroom, curious of the complaining noises Jisung made, and there you found him, with his eyes closed, a hand against the wall and the other around his dick moving slowly while he bit his lip, the water droplets running through his naked body making him appear like a Greek God. You kept staring at him working on himself maybe a little too much, because he ended up discovering you and then fucking you carefully in the shower. Truly, an incredible experience that even if it had been a little difficult to manage, you felt it was so worth it.

Finally undressing himself, Jisung stood up between your legs again, his hand on your stomach and he bent to kiss your forehead sweetly.

"You ready, baby?" he asked, waiting for any signal that could mean a positive or negative from you. One of his hands looked for yours to intertwine your fingers. You nodded, swallowing as you thought how good it was to have him filling you, and second later, he did just that. He stretched you as he entered you slowly, his hand squeezing yours next to your head while his other supported his weight, a quiet moan coming from his lips.

"Oh shit, Jisung! Fuck, you feel so good, please" your broken voice managed to speak.

You waited for him to move, but he asked you instead if you trusted him, and simple as that he shifted and now he was standing, your legs around his waist and arms around his neck, his hands on your eyes as he walked somewhere, the destination being your tiny balcony. You thought he wouldn't dare step outside, but he did and the cold air hit you, and not only that, but Jisung also pressed you against the cold glass door of the balcony.

"You better keep quiet, dove, or you'll get us discovered" he warned, proceeding to fuck you slowly as the moonlight illuminated you.

Two mornings after, you showered and got ready to eat breakfast. Jisu was already awake watching some cartoons as her dad hummed while he finished cooking her lunch. "Good morning," you said, going to kiss Jisung's lips and sitting to drink coffee.

"Hey, sweetheart. How do you feel?" Jisung corresponded to your greeting, giving you a quick wink before turning his back to the almost completed food.

"I'm okay, not too tired. Thanks for the coffee, babe. Are you ready for work?" you asked him. He laughed, but he admitted that he was actually nervous since it was something he was very passionate about, it made you happy to see him following his dreams.

When you were done with breakfast, the three of you went to the car, you would drop Jisung first at his friend's company, and then you would leave Jisu at the kindergarten, and you would go to your classes as usual.

"Have a nice first day, Sungie. Love you, I'll see you at home"

"Goodbye, daddy!"

"Thanks, beautiful. Behave well, princess. Love you both" and after you left him, you drove to Jisu's school.

She was always happy to go, she always talked about how her teacher was so pretty and smart, and you couldn't blame her. He was very charming, you would admit, and not only was he nice to the children he teached, but he also cared for the parents too and let everyone know that they could count on him, he was such a lovely spirit, you thought it was a shame Jisung hadn't met him yet, since it was you always dropping Jisu and then going to college while Jisung stayed home and slept after the long and tiresome club nights.

Turning off the car, you got out of the car and opened Jisu's door, helping her out and then walking hand in hand as she excitedly told you that she couldn't wait to see her favorite teacher in the whole world.

"Good morning, Y/N, Jisu" his smooth voice reached your ears when you arrived at the classroom. More kids and parents were saying their goodbyes, luckily Jisu always showed that she was brave and never spent too long hugging you goodbye, too eager to go play with the others kids to mind if you stayed too long after or not.

"Hey, good morning, teacher. How was your weekend?" you asked him, trying to be polite and show that you were a friend for him if he needed to talk just like he was for everyone else.

"Oh, Y/N, I've told you you can just call me Hyunjin, and my weekend was good, thanks for asking. How was yours?" he asked back, looking at your slightly colored cheeks with an adorable eye smile as he reminded you once again to call him by his name.

"My weekend was also nice, thank you, Hyunjin. How-" you were about to say something more, but your alarm that indicated you should better be leaving for your class rang. "Oh, I'm sorry, it seems like I should be leaving for class! See you later."

The professor nodded in understanding, and you turned and left, careful with your steps to not trip and fall to the ground. When you successfully got into your car, you breathed in and exhaled, preparing yourself for the rest of the day.

That was how your new routine was created; first, Jisung woke up and made breakfast, then you dropped him at work and took Jisu to school and you went to college and once you were done with classes you picked up Jisu and went to work at the coffee shop where you would meet with Jisung and the three of you would get home, some weekends still going on trips and enjoying as much time together as you could.

A few months into the new routine, when you were dropping Jisu at school Hyunjin asked you to stay a little more, explaining that there was an upcoming school trip and he was asking you to go as a supervisor. You thanked him, saying that you would try your best to accompany him and the class as well, and sooner than you had expected, the day arrived and Jisung and you were more than ready to go to the aquarium with a lot of other kids and few parents.

The trip was fun, if you had to admit. Seeing all the fish swimming and getting to know more about them was very interesting, and many kids agreed with you when you said that mermaids were very lucky to live underwater with many beautiful species.

Later, Hyunjin announced that it was time for lunch, so everyone had a break to sit down and eat. You were sitting with Jisung next to you, he was drinking from a juice box when Hyunjin approached you and sat with the two of you, addressing you and ignoring the man next to you.

"You're incredibly good with kids, Y/N, and it really shows. They seem to like you a lot" he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, his eyebrows raised as he spoke.

"Well, thank you. I like being with kids, actually, I've always wanted a big family" you shyly responded, looking at Jisung through the corner of your eye. You thought he would react somehow, but he was too focused looking at the kids who were playing near you.

"Well, you're still young and you seem pretty put together to be a single mother… If you look further you might find someone you could share your life with and get married" Hyunjin mumbled, turning from you to look at his class running around the cafeteria.

"Single mother?" you repeated, eyebrows furrowed as you repeated his words on your head again.

"What? Since when are you a single mother?" Jisung's voice reached your ears, making both you and Hyunjin turn to him. "I thought… I thought I was her father?" his voice cracked, making you open your eyes wide in confusion.

"Aren't you her uncle?" Hyunjin asked, finally acknowledging his presence.

"No, Jisung is Jisu's dad. I'm… I'm not a single mother, I'm Jisung's girlfriend, not… Jisu's biological mother" you explained to the teacher in a quiet voice to not get any attention from the other adults near you.

"You're her dad? I'm so sorry, I always saw Y/N leaving Jisu and picking her up, I thought… I thought you and her were all by yourselves. I…" Hyunjin's hand flew to cover his mouth, he seemed so ashamed from his quick assumptions that his face started picking a pink tone. "I wanted to invite you to a date, Y/N. You're a fantastic parental figure to Jisu and– and you're so beautiful, too… I have a big crush on you, I'm sorry…"

You wanted to answer to his apologetic words, but you were too shocked to say anything, not knowing what words would be appropriate to speak so you turned to Jisung to see what he had to say in regards to this situation instead.

"Look, I can't blame you for liking her. She really is magnificent and I'll never get to comprehend how lucky I am for being by her side. I'm sorry, Hyunjin, but I'm sure one day you'll find someone like Y/N you can love" the sincerity and affection carried on his words made you look down and stare at his hand that had moved moments before to hold yours, you already knew but you loved him and how sweet he was.

Hyunjin smiled at your boyfriend and then cleared his throat, "thank you for saying that. You two make a lovely couple, but… if you ever get to break up, you know where I work, Y/N" he winked, moving to stand up and walk away to get the class's attention and continue the tour.

Neither of you spoke a word about Hyunjin's misinterpretation of your civil state after the trip. Sure, it had shocked you at first, but you brushed it off as something not that important. What you didn't know was how badly those words were torturing Jisung's brain. He stayed up most of the night that day, an arm around your shoulders as you peacefully slept on his chest, his head running wild with thoughts about you and how much you changed his life.

That's how he finally gathered the courage to talk to Chan and Changbin about marriage; he knew he loved you, he knew you were a highlight of his life along with Jisu and he was a witness to how much you and she liked each other. He couldn't ask for anything more, and besides, maybe having a ring on your finger would help you stop getting flirted with when you already shared a life with him, because after all, you were young and full of life, many people approached you and asked you for a drink at college or they also asked for your number at work, and the idea of getting married to you excited him more than it scared him, so why not propose to you?

His friends supported his choice, Chan and Changbin had gotten to know you a little more and you got along with them together, they supported you and Jisung and they also offered to babysit Jisu to give you private time together. They were very considerate, and not only that but they could feel how much Jisung adored you in every lyric of any song inspired by you.

So a few months later, one tranquil Friday evening after work when his friends dropped him off at the coffee shop that was nearly empty (except for the owners, Jeongin, Chan, Changbin and for some reason Seungmin too) you were surprised by his cautious behavior.

Jisu was sitting on Changbin's lap when Jisung took your hand and made you walk to the middle of the place, clearing his throat nervously while still holding your hand, making eye contact with you when he started speaking:

"Y/N, this is where we met a long time ago, and this is where everything began that day when I asked you if you could do me a favor. It was the start of our story together, and after spending many days and nights with you I'm more than certain that I love you. I loved you that day, and I will still love you tomorrow, so would you marry me?" He finally ended his speech with a knee on the floor, Jisu next to him handing him a small velvet box that he opened, revealing a beautiful ring inside.

You were more than surprised now, staring at his kneeled form with teary eyes, a hand covering your mouth as you simply nodded in response to his question, and then he placed the ring on your finger, kissing your hand and then standing up to kiss you sweetly, making your heart melt.

"Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much" and after that, everyone rushed to congratulate you two, creating beautiful memories for you.

That Friday, Jisu clung to her uncle Changbin's neck and waved goodbye at you and your now fiancé, saying that she couldn't wait to go to the fair the next day with him, making you laugh and kiss her forehead goodbye, thanking Changbin (and Chan too) for taking care of her and taking her places.

When you arrived home with Jisung that night, you couldn't help but smile like you did when he kissed you the first time, it was a satisfactory feeling, to know that he loved you as much as to ask you to be a permanent part of his life. You were clingy to him, which also made his heart flutter when you pecked his lips or giggled when he touched you gently, but behind the closed door of the apartment he wasted no time and kissed you hungrily, like a caveman trying the most delicious thing in the world.

You breathed in, corresponding to his rude kiss, your hands on his face and his resting on your waist.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to know you're gonna be only mine, sweetheart. Just mine," he whispered, his breath against your cheek when he separated from your lips to tell you that. He had pressed you against the door as soon as he locked it, attacking your lips like it was his only mission and then going down your neck, leaving a warm trace of kisses burning your skin.

This time, he paid no mind to the 'no marks' unspoken rule he had given himself, sucking on your neck with the sole intention of leaving evidence of the passionate night the two of you would be having to celebrate your engagement, and you couldn't complain. He had given you the ring you thought you would get in a few more years, you might as well show that you're already taken to anyone who crossed your way, it turned you on a little more, if you had to be brutally honest. Seeing Jisung being possessive of you always made you feel like you were one of his priorities, and also showed you that he had no intention in leaving you alone any time soon.

Moving your head to the side to allow him more access to your neck, his hands started taking your jeans off and were now running through your belly under your shirt, touching everything he could as he kept marking you.

"You're only mine now, baby" he growled, separating from you to take off your shirt and look at your almost naked figure, his eyes with a heavy lusty shadow on them.

"... Just yours" you repeated, closing your eyes and taking his face to kiss him with the same passion he did when the door closed behind you.

Your hands rested on his chest, fingers trying to unbutton his shirt, successfully failing at completing the task when he separated from you, placing one of his hands on top of both of yours and pinning them above your head, resting against the cold door while his other hand slipped through your panties.

He groaned when he felt your growing wetness, he found your clit instantly and rubbed it, making you sigh in satisfaction until his hand went down further and he inserted two fingers inside you, this time dragging a gasp from your lips when your walls felt the introduction of his digits. It felt nice, but you knew his cock would feel better inside you, you loved how he filled you.

Pumping his fingers slowly, you started moaning, letting yourself enjoy his treatment. His mouth left kisses on your clavicle, then your chest and when you least expected it, he was pulling your bra down with his teeth and sucking on one of your nipples, his fingers never stopped their work on you causing you to become a wet, moaning mess with twitching legs until you finally came, crying out Jisung's name when your high hit you.

He kept pumping his fingers, having discovered that you did actually like when he overstimulated you once and since then doing it from time to time, this being one of them, and when you blinked your orgadm away, the pulled them from you, loosening his grip on your wrists and licking his fingers clean from your juices as he hummed.

You thought he would be done, you thought he would like to go to bed and fuck you until you screamed his mess in the comfort of your king size bed, but apparently Jisung had other plans in mind, as he undressed his shirt and threw it to the floor with your clothes and pulled you by the arm to the back of the couch, turning you and pushing your back so you were bending over it, his knee between your legs separating them and keeping you from closing them. He started taking your underwear off, his fascinated lusty eyes appreciating how wet you were, practically dripping.

"I wish you could see yourself, you look so lovely, all ready to take me after I made you cum with my fingers. I bet I can make you cum like that again, would you like that?" He asked.

You gulped, "N-no, I want your cock, please fuck me with your cock!"

"My needy baby, so cute. It's 'kay, I'll make you cum around me sweetheart" he responded while his hands caressed your ass lovingly until you couldn't feel them anymore. Soon, you heard him pull his zipper down, anticipating what was yet to come.

"Are you ready, angel?" He asked, pressing the tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. You nodded, and he started pushing himself inside your velvety walls, stretching you.

With a growl, his hands held you in place by your hips, making sure you wouldn't move from the position he had you in as he started pulling out, ready to repeat the process, meanwhile you were holding a pillow for dear life as your breath got caught in your throat as you waited for him to set up a pace with his hips.

Jisung started slowly, enjoying how you felt around him and loving the way you took him in, looking at how he disappeared which caused him to moan. You, on the other hand, had to resist the urgency of moving. You remember telling Jisung that you wanted him to bruise your cervix, saying that you wouldn't mind new things to which he agreed quickly.

Maybe that was why he had started more than the usual missionary, you were thankful that he kept it in mind, and now surprising you by taking you on the couch, in front of the turned off TV where you could see your blurry reflection getting wrecked from behind by him, it felt incredible.

"You feel so good, I'm so glad your pussy is just mine" he moaned, stopping for a brief second to take your right leg and rest it on the couch to hit a deeper spot inside you, making you start tearing up from pleasure.

"A-all yours" you cried out, inevitably clenching around him when you repeated what he said. You saw his cocku smile through the black mirror that was the TV.

"Ah, J-Jisung, harder!" you demanded with a whine when he found your g spot, the detonator to your best orgasms.

The sudden sting from his hand landing on your butt cheek shocked you, making you moan. "Where are your manners, baby? I thought you were my good angel" he said, starting to slow down the speed that had increased since he started thrusting.

"Please, go hard-harder" you corrected yourself, and once he heard the magic word he instantly did what you had asked of him, provoking you to moan each time he reached where you wanted him, and soon you were clenching around him, legs shaking and walls hugging him tightly causing him to near his climax as well.

It took a few more thrusts for him to find his release, but when he did you felt him filling your insides with his warm seed, a sexy groan coming from his chest and his fingers leaving a bruise on your hips from holding you too hard.

Pulling out from you, he pushed his fingers inside your pussy to keep his cum from hitting the ground, then he carefully pushed you on the couch and walked around it to cuddle with you in his arms.

"I love you" he told you, his hand petting your hair innocently (as if he hadn't fucked your lungs out 5 minute ago).

"I know," you answered, kissing his chest and tightening your arm around his torso in a half hug.

"Let's stay like this for a few minutes and then we can bathe, okay?" you hummed in agreement, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of you until any of you felt gross enough to want to get cleaned.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but when you realized Jisung wasn't with you any more you stood up looking for him, only to find him filling the tub, a few aromatic candles lighted up, a delicious smell reaching your nostrils. You saw the bathtub was almost all full, so you decided to surprise Jisung by wrapping your arms around his back.

"Let's get cleaned up, what do you say, sweetie?" He said, removing your arms from him and stepping into the warm water, opening his arms for you.

You rolled your eyes, but copied him anyway and rested your back in his chest. The water relaxed your muscles, the candle's scent helped you feel almost like in heaven, and Jisung arm made you know you were safe. Everything was so sweet, until you felt something else poking your lower back.

With a raised eyebrow, you faced your partner with a silent explanation only to find him staring at the love bites on your neck, but you opted for not commenting anything about it.

"You know… I really love you and I'm happy that you accepted to be a part of my life," he said, his deep voice and serious tone getting your attention, so you faced him to hear all he had to say.

"I remember you told Hyunjin that you wanted a big family, and… I know Jisu wouldn't mind having a sibling. I believe now would be a good time to have a baby of our own, but only if you agree with me, honey" he smiled, kissing your shoulder.

"Are you serious?" you asked him after processing his words in your head. He nodded, his hand playing with yours as he waited for you to say something else.

"I would love to, Sungie. I already consider you and Jisu as my family, hell, I feel happy when she tells her friend I'm her mom. So yes, if you're really sure, I want to do it. Let's have a baby" you smiled excitedly, moving to kiss his lips sweetly.

"Then we should keep practicing, shouldn't we?" He joked, winking at you after you ended the kiss. You hit him playfully, giggling at his question.

From joking about it, you two ended up having sex on the tub and staying there until the water got cold and the candles lighted out, and yet, when you were cuddling in bed ready to sleep, you couldn't stop smiling. It had been a fantastic day and even better night and early morning.

Next morning when Jisung saw you walking to the kitchen with his shirt on, he kissed your lips and greeted you with a "good morning, future Mrs. Han," a plate of pancakes in front of you.

"I'm so lucky to have you" you told him, to which he replied with "I'm so lucky to be loved by you."

And you decided that this was pure happiness, you didn't have anything to worry, and you loved your family and your friends a lot, you were almost done with college and starting to plan a wedding. Maybe you weren't rich, but you had everything you wanted and maybe a little more.

After all, engraved in the ring Jisung gave you, it said "for my soul mate", so you had him, for as long as time lasted, and he had you, the missing piece of the puzzle of his life.

You complemented each other, and comprehended each other. What you two had could be considered 'true love', and you were thankful to the universe for placing this single dad in your life, showing you what happiness, and what love was.

"I can't wait to marry you" you sighed, daydreaming about how you wanted the wedding to be.

"And I cannot wait to call you mine legally" he responded, kissing your cheek.

"I've always been yours"

"That's good, because you'll always be mine in the future as well. No quitting now, babe!"

[jackrrabbit]

🤍 Haikyuu WIP excerpts

preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:

🤍 communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou 🤍 sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu 🤍 corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader

anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr

🤍 communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?

Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk

Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. You’re pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loud—honestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard I’d probably break something.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah!” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

🤍 sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu

Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ō-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.

Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes

Status: 3.9k words written out of 5–6k? total

Atsumu was the one who found you.

That’s how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like you’d still be wandering around lost in the woods if it weren’t for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.

It’s hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that you’ve known them for a year and that seems to fit. It’s spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.

Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like they’d bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldn’t pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, that’s how loud ya were) but he wouldn’t really have woken up if he hadn’t heard you singing.

(The odd thing is, you weren’t actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-aunt’s attic so you could barely make out the “X” that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine… You were cursing how stupid you’d been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely weren’t singing.)

But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like you’re singing. He wasn’t sure at first, hadn’t heard a voice that wasn’t Osamu’s in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!

A girl, too—it was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any path…

When you think back on this yourself you’re amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine you’d been searching for…well. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.

Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to… He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.

🤍 corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader

Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kuroo’s favorite camgirl, and he’s having trouble keeping his hands to himself.

Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content 👀

Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total

Kuroo doesn’t watch porn.

It’s not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, it’s perfectly normal for single men. He just doesn’t like it…unless it’s you.

When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didn’t?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when you’re a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.

Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kuroo’s brain for the 10+ years since. “It was…I don’t know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?” Bokuto’s hands twitched and his face was pink. “It’s just really…soft.”

Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.

It didn’t change much after high school, either. He didn’t get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didn’t hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldn’t keep track…they blurred together after a while. It didn’t take effort. You don’t need game when you’re 6’2 and you’re in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely don’t need porn.

So he never got into it. Now that he’s promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kuroo’s never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. It’s exhausting. One time—seriously, just one time—Kuroo misses his girlfriend’s birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until he’s ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.

Which means you.

You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenma’s unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dream—no, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.

And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasn’t been this easy for him since college. You’re a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and that’s how he likes it.

Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman he’s gotten off to in the past…year, maybe?…somehow just got hired in JVA’s sports promotion department as his junior associate.

Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows it’s you. You have to tell him your name twice because he’s too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he can’t summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.

You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand you’d extended out to shake swings back down to your side. “Um, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterday…I’ll be working directly underneath you?”

Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesn’t spit it out, but it’s close.

[hyuckssunchip]

Hasty Encounters, Hasty Decisions

Pairings: Yuta x Reader, ft. nct 127

Words: 10K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), drinking, slight smut, insinuation of sex

Summary: 

Y/N and Yuta meet for the first time and learn quickly of not only their attractions, but also their many more differences. Painful words and revelations leave a deep ridge between the two of them, that is until someone makes a shocking confession. Will they continue to make hasty decisions, or will they learn to forgive and forget?

Yuna was the exact opposite of you. She was gorgeous, outgoing and such a party person. You’d rather chill at home and binge your favorite drama for the billionth time, and that’s exactly how you planned to spend this weekend, however, Yuna had different plans.

“Come on, this is the last one of the semester! The NCT frat house always has legendary end of the semester parties. Besides you haven’t been to one yet, you need to broaden your horizons.” She kept jabbing your side, as if that was a good tactic to make you agree to her idea.

“No, I already set up my computer for six straight episodes of Penthouse, it’s too late now.” You gave her a triumphant grin, as if that were enough to get Yuna off your case.

“Are you serious right now?” She rolled her eyes at you, “This is ridiculous, I get that the actors are hot and all, but these are the hot guys in real life! Stop pining over some made up character and get it on with a real guy!”

“Who’s getting it on with a real guy?” 

“Mark, Yuna keeps trying to take away my drama time, she’s trying to force me to go to a frat party.” You whined to him. Surely he would take your side, he’s a homebody just like yourself.

“The NCT frat party? I heard those are awesome. Why don’t you want to go?”

Sike.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you Mark, you’re supposed to take my side unconditionally.”

“Right… Yuna why do you want her to go so badly?”

“Mark, don’t you want to go to the party? They’re even better than what people say.”

“Really?”

“Mark!” You tugged at his shirt.

“What? I’ve always wanted to go. You know you should really get out there more. I think Yuna’s right on this one.”

“See?” Yuna gave you a smug look.

“Mark, you’re not helping.”

He swung his arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer, “Maybe you should go to this one, I think it’ll be fun.”

“You’re only saying that cause you want to go.”

“Is it working?” He grinned at you before you shrugged his arm off your shoulder.

“No. I already told you, I’ve got a busy weekend up ahead.”

“Yeah of bingeing dramas.” Yuna put her hands on her hips in protest.

Mark tilts his head at you, “How about this? If you go this weekend, I promise that I will help you set up that editing software on your computer that you’ve been wanting.”

“Deal.” There was no hesitation. You’ve been dying for him to help you for months but he never got around to it.

“Damn, that was easy.” Yuna grinned, “I’ve got tons of stuff you can borrow for tomorrow night!”

“What’s wrong with my stuff?” You frowned.

“Umm… have you seen your closet?” There was a snicker from beside you, but it was quickly cut off when you elbowed him in the side.

“I agree with Yuna on this one too.” Mark said, rubbing his side where you had just jabbed him. “Your clothes just aren’t suitable for a frat party.”

“And how would you know?” You mocked him, knowing he’d never been to one before.

“I’ve seen many movies, thank you very much.”

“Not the same Mark, but regardless you both are coming with me.” Yuna spoke up, “My class is gonna start in fifteen and it’s across campus so I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later. Don’t think you can ditch this one!”

She ran off in the other direction before there was room for response.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Mark chuckled, throwing his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, ever since she and Johnny broke up, it’s like she’s going there to make sure he sees that she’s doing fine. To be honest, I’m a little worried about her.”

“Everyone goes through different ways of mourning y’know? That’s just Yuna.” He shrugged, kicking the stone in front of him. 

You dropped it, feeling the mellow mood.

“Well, I should head to class then, I’ll see you at lunch yeah?” You nodded in response and with that he left.

“Sure.” Your eyes followed his back as he continued kicking stones out of his way.

Beep Beep!

“Are you sure this isn’t too short? I’m pretty sure you can see all of my ass.”

“Y/N, that’s the point.” You shot her a look. “Besides you’ll be so drunk you’ll feel fantastic either way. You look hot.” She flashed you a smile and grabbed your arm.

“Now come on! Mark’s waiting.”

You groaned, dragging your feet in resistance. The couch looked so comfy right now.

Beep Beep!

“Yeah we get it Mark!” Yuna yelled, “Come on.”

You were pushed into the passenger seat and she slammed the door on you, sliding into the back right after. 

Yuna leaned forward resting her arms on the both of the seats in front of her. “Ready?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against the window. You glanced at Mark, who was staring at the rear view mirror. You smiled at his face.

“Wow.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head and glancing at you. “You look great. You guys look great.”

You sent him a small smile, but went back to looking out the window. 

“Of course we do, we spent hours on this.” Yuna scoffed. 

“Right.” With one last glance in the mirror at Yuna, he started the car and headed to the address.

“How long are we staying?” You asked, starting to get nervous.

“How ever long we want to. You know you could even stay the night.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you, but in vain.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Right. Just make sure you text me to let me know if you’re going home with someone.” She laughed, “That goes for all of us, I don’t want to be stranded without a ride home Mark.” 

Mark blushed and shook his head, not really replying.

There was a comfortable silence throughout the ride and you hadn’t noticed that you had already arrived until the echoing sound of music hit your ears.

“Alright! Are we ready!?” Suddenly you had a headache, and Yuna was not helping.

You were unceremoniously dragged out of the car while Mark, slowly clambored out of his side.

“Let’s go already.” 

“You know I can walk on my own right?”

“I know, but you’re a flight risk.” She gripped my arm tighter and pulled you to the front of the frat, skipping the large line that seemed to wrap around the street.

“Yuna! Pleasure to see you again!” And with that you were let in.

It felt as though you were entering a whole new world when you walked through that door. You saw many familiar faces, and many unfamiliar. 

“How about we start off with drinks?” She hooked her arms into both yours and Mark’s and dragged you to the makeshift bar. You held eye contact with Mark before letting out a sheepish grin. 

If there’s gonna be lots of alcohol involved, how bad could it be?

“Yuna! I’ve got special mixes for you, unless you’re here for the hard stuff. But you know how good my cocktails are. So what are we starting off with?” The man with silver brown hair at the table shouted over the music.

“Taeil!” Yuna smiled, giving him a small hug, leaving you and Mark feeling empty and vulnerable. “I’ll take you up on your mix, I know how many shots you can get into a cocktail. These are my friends, Y/N and Mark. Can you show them a bit of your magic?”

There was a friendly laugh as the man, Taeil, shot you both a smile. “Of course! Is this your first time here?” He asked whilst pouring his concoction.

You nodded silently, looking at Yuna for help, but she wasn’t paying any attention.

“Thought so, I would definitely remember someone like you.” He gave you a wink, handing the first one to you.

You immediately sipped it, not knowing how to answer his comment, evident in your blushing face. 

“Oh my god. This is amazing.” You looked up at him, actually confused at how you couldn’t taste the alcohol, seeing as you saw just how much he poured into that drink.

“That’s Taeil for you, he knows how to get everyone the most fucked up.” She grinned at him, taking both drinks from him and handing one to Mark, keeping the other for herself. 

He grinned, “Of course, come back when you’re done, I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“You’ll be seeing plenty of me.” She sang back while dragging the two of you off again. She pulled you to a crowd of yelling people, and as curious as you were, you’d much rather sit on the couch and sip your drink.

“Okay but actually what’s in this?” Mark asked, he sounded as amazed as you felt and you laughed at his expression. 

“I don’t know, but it’s amazing right?” You took another sip, turning your attention to the loud cheers from the people around you.

Some unfortunate frat boy was doing a keg stand, held up by Johnny. “Jungwoo! Man, you good? That was a shit ton this time.”

The boy with fluffy brown haired grinned toothily, “I don’t know man, I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

“Alright, you go have fun then.” Johnny laughed, shoving the keg under a table. “Beer pong anyone?”

You rolled your eyes. Johnny and Yuna had dated for a short time earlier this year, but you never really liked Johnny. I mean in general he was a fun guy, everyone liked him, it was hard for you not to. But as a boyfriend? With Yuna? Nope. You saw what she went through and that wasn’t healthy. It’s not like you hated him, in fact you and Johnny had plenty of fun conversations, but he was too out there for you.

You sighed, turning away from the commotion of guys trying to earn the chance to play against Johnny.

“Hey where are you going?” Yuna asked, still staring at the table. You pointed to your now empty drink, “I’m gonna get more!” You yelled back.

She loosened her grip nodding, but you were sure she stopped listening.

“You want me to go with you?” Mark asked, but you could tell he wanted to stay with Yuna and watch. 

“No I’m fine. I’ll be back soon, I’ll probably get a drink and then some fresh air. I promise.” He nodded, frowning at you. At least he cared enough to look worried. 

You headed back to the familiar table, “Back so soon?”

“Yeah, I don’t even remember drinking all of it.” You laughed, “That probably means it’s working right?”

He chuckled, “It works wonders. So what do you want this time? Something strong or sweet or just something that’ll knock you out?”

You giggled at the offer, “You know, as tempting as that last one is, I think I’ll just go with sweet. Make it so I can’t taste it.”

“Right, coming right up.” 

There was another obnoxious cheer. “Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!”

“What are they up to? Beer pong?” He asked, back facing the crowd.

“Yeah.”

“Go figures, that’s the only game Yuta slaughters Johnny in.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Hey can I get something?” The keg boy from earlier stumbled up to you, obviously having trouble standing still.

“Jungwoo, man what’s up?” Taeil chuckled, handing you your drink as he faced the boy. 

“I feel great.” The grin was so endearing that you felt the need to smile with him. 

“I’m sure you do buddy. You wanted a drink right?” Taeil reached down for a bottle of Vodka from under the table. You frowned, looking at the half full bottle still on the counter.

“Yeah,” The boy giggled, turning to face you. “Hi. I’m Jungwoo. You’re kinda hot.”

You blushed, sipping your drink. You shouldn’t have been affected, this boy was drunk out of his mind, he probably thought that anything with two legs was hot.

“Here you go buddy. I made this one good, you probably can’t even taste it.” Taeil walked around the table to hand it to Jungwoo, standing next to you.

Jungwoo sipped it, nodding his head contently. 

Taeil bent down and whispered in your ear, “ Don’t worry, it’s just pineapple juice mixed with water. He won’t even tell the difference.” He pulled back giving you a grin.

“Hey Jungwoo, why don’t you take this pretty lady outside for some fresh air, I think she could use it.” He winked at you and pointed his head in direction of the empty backyard. 

“Of course I will.” He grinned, sticking his elbow out for you to grab, to which you complied and sent Taeil a little smile on your way out. 

You sat on the stairs of the deck, Jungwoo landing next to you. He was having a little more difficulty trying to sit down without falling over. 

“So what’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You answered softly, taking another sip. It looked like this one was going to be finished just as fast as the last. You shook your head worried about future you.

“Huh. Cute.” He took a long sip of his.

Again you blushed. You really needed to stop doing that every time some guy talks to you.

“You know you’re kinda cute to be hanging out here.” He commented mindlessly, chewing on a block of ice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like you’re hot, but you seem like you’re too sweet y’know, to be hanging out at a frat house.”

You giggled, “It’s not like I wanted to come here. But you know I’m not having a bad time.” 

Another sip.

“Yeah? That’s good. You a student here?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’m a Sophomore, what are you?” He was a bit blunt, but you didn’t mind, the alcohol was kicking in and you were beginning to think everything was funny. Honestly, sober you would’ve probably thought this whole situation was funny too.

“I’m a Junior.”

“Oh.”

He paused, thinking.

“You know I’m into older women.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. And he grinned at you, leaning back on his elbows, his drink long gone. 

“Well that’s a shame, cause I’m into older men.” He pouted at you. 

“People actually think I’m a lot older than I am.”

“I’m sure they do Jungwoo.”

He grinned at you.

“Hey, I kinda like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth.”

Again, you couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter from erupting. 

“Jungwoo, you’re a total flirt.” You had your hand covering your mouth as you tried to stop the giggles, swaying towards him. 

He let out a little giggle. You lost your balance and fell towards him, leaning against his shoulder. Jungwoo could hardly manage to keep himself up let alone both your weights. The two of you tumbled flat on the deck, in giggling fits. 

You sighed, finally calming yourself as you rolled over staring at the black sky, not a single star in sight.

You turned your head sharply and faced Jungwoo, his nose only and inch away from yours. You could tell he wasn’t paying much attention to you as he eyes were trained on your lips. 

“You wanna dance?”

“Huh?”

“I wanna dance. Are you coming?” You attempted to push yourself up, struggling for a good minute.

Jungwoo followed, “Yeah, only if you help me get up, I think I might be a little drunk.” He laughed to himself.

“A little?” You had no right to tease him.

Pulling each other up, you guys somehow managed to make it back inside. As you stumbled inside together Mark happened to find you, holding on to your waist to stabilize you. 

“Dude where were you? I’ve been looking all over for you.” You giggled, hanging on to both Mark and Jungwoo. He sniffed, smelling the alcohol on you.

“How much did you drink? You smell like a sketchy gas station.” His nose crinkled.

Jungwoo stumbled, pulling you and consequently Mark with him. 

“Woah man, maybe you should sit down.” Mark reached his arm out to grab Jungwoo.

“But I’m gonna dance with Y/N.” He whined, but nevertheless letting Mark lead him to the couch.

“Next time yeah?” 

Jungwoo nodded, gladly sinking into the cushion.

“Y/N how about you? You good?” Mark asked, leaning down to your eye level. You leaned your head against his chest and closed your eyes for a bit. 

“Mmmmm.”

“Mmmmm? What’s that mean? You need something?” You shook your head, opting to wrap your arms around his waist. 

The two of you swayed there for a bit, until you started to feel dizzy. “Water?”

“Huh?” His head was resting on top of yours. “You want water?” He pulled away, once again looking you in the eyes.

He nodded slowly at you, “Okay, I’ll get you water, you just stay right here okay?”

You leaned against the couch and smiled at him nodding in response. 

He was only gone for a moment when you felt a presence invading your space. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You opened your eyes. 

Woah.

He smiled at you, liking your reaction, “Woah?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Your hand reached for the lock of blonde hair nearest to you. He chuckled, grabbing your hand, “I’m gonna go with no then.”

You looked up at him, wide eyed earning you a grin. “Wanna dance?”

There was nothing left to do but nod.

He grabbed your head, softly pulling you towards the space everyone was dancing on. From the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn you saw Yuna making out with that guy from your Calculus class but you shook it off, there were more important things in front of you.

You were tugged against his chest, and the heat coming off his chest making you feel dizzy. After a few moments he turned you around, placing his hand under your chin, leaning your head back in the crevice of his neck. You closed your eyes. His hands once softly gripping your waist dug into your hips, dragging you closer if that was possible. As your bodies grinded against each other, you felt his lips make contact with your exposed neck. You gasped, stretching your neck more in order to give him as much access as you could. Already you could feel the spots where hickies would be impossible to hide the next day, but you didn’t care. 

Soon the kisses and licks turned into love bites and the grip on your waist grew firmer. It was becoming much easier to feel the growing eagerness of your partner. You rotated your hips, pushing back into him and he threw his head back groaning. 

“Fuck, how about we take this upstairs?” He moaned into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your stomach clench.

Somehow you made it upstairs, stumbling through frenzied kisses and already swollen lips. He pushed your backwards through a wooden door frame and immediately turned you around as he slammed the door shut. He trapped you against the cool wood panel before attacking your neck once more, you let out a gasp, running his hands over his chest. His lips didn’t stop attacking until he found your sweet spot, you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair pulling slightly. He moaned into your neck before swearing and pushing you towards the bed. 

Before you had even made it there he managed to rid you of your dress.

“Fuck, you know that shit really wasn’t leaving much for the imagination.” He quickly pulled his top off and pushed you down, crawling you top of you to leave a trail of kisses down your body.

“God, you’re fucking hot.” He groaned as his lips traced the black lace of your bra that Yuna forced you into.

You sunk further into the bed, his body crashing into yours, unbelievably close, as his fingers left blazing hot trails on your body.

You were wrapped around each other in the morning as you woke up. Your eyes opened slowly meeting the already awake eyes of the man next to you. For a moment you stared at each other in silence, relishing the peaceful moments before your hangover would kick in.

There was a loud clang from downstairs, causing you to flinch. The moment was over.

He pulled away from you harshly turning to throw on sweats and a shirt before moving past you to the bathroom. You wrapped yourself in the sheets sitting up and watched his back.

He hesitated for a moment before turning back to face you, “Don’t you know to leave before I wake up?” He gave you a one over while shaking his head at you. “It was just a fuck.”

You sat in silence, only jumping at the sound of the bathroom door slamming. Suddenly you felt sick. You scrambled out of bed to find the pieces of last night’s outfit scattered around the floor.

As soon as you were dressed and you cleaned yourself up as much as you could in the mirror, you ran towards the stairs. The smell of bacon wafted past you, making you wish you didn’t feel the nausea that was slowly rising. 

“Y/N?” Taeil turned to see you rush past the kitchen. You stopped, backtracking to the doorway and gave him a tentative smile.

He looked at his watch and frowned, “You’re still here?”

“She was with Yuta.” A boy with black curly hair and a grey hoodie said, munching on his apple. He spun in his chair before stopping in your direction.

Yuta? Well shit, you didn’t even know his name until now.

“I’m surprised you’re still here. Yuta usually makes sure his girls leave before he wakes up. Honestly, most of them don’t even get to spend the night, he just kicks them out after his little escapade. I’m Doyoung by the way.” He flashed a little smile and tilted his head at you.

“Oh.” You blushed looking down at your feet. “I was just on my way out.” 

He nodded, getting what you meant. 

“Oh? Y/N?” You turned to find a familiar face. 

“Jungwoo?” He smiled sheepishly at you, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Sorry about last night. I don’t really remember much except us falling over each other. I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable did I?”

You blushed in response. “No, trust me I think it was mutual last night.” You laughed nervously, rubbing your arms, suddenly immensely aware of your less than modest outfit. 

“Here!” Jungwoo stripped off his blue hoodie, leaving him in a plain white tee. He stuck his hand out, offering you the jacket, which you took gratefully. Even though you weren’t planning on staying long, it was freezing outside and you’d have to wait for a ride to come get you.

Mark! You totally forgot to tell him, you mentally slapped your forehead, knowing that he wasn’t going to let this go too easily. 

The sweatshirt hung just above the length of your dress, not doing much for modesty down there, but it still felt more comfortable than before. 

There was a slam and a girl came running down the stairs and towards the door, she gave you a knowing glance before exiting the building.

You sighed, you should probably get going now, Mark was going to throw a fit but you knew he'd show up anyways.

A hand came down on your shoulder, the man behind it chuckling as he watched the scene. 

“You staying for breakfast Y/N?” He moved around you, grabbing a plate from Taeil and sitting down.

“Jaehyun.” You froze. You and Jaehyun were kind of friends. You had met through Yuna and Johnny. Actually you got along really well with him, you just lost contact after Johnny and Yuna broke up.

He flashed you a dimpled smile.

“No, I should get going.”

He nodded, already digging in, “You have a ride back?”

You paused. He noticed, looking up at you. 

“Give me five minutes, let me just finish this and I’ll drop you off. Okay?” 

You nodded and gave him a smile. Five minutes wouldn’t hurt right? Besides then you wouldn��t have to bug Mark so early. 

It was 11 am, but he was probably still knocked out. A ride with Jaehyun wouldn’t kill you. He patted the seat next to you and you took up his offer.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Jungwoo set his plate down opposite of you.

You shook your head, “I don’t think I could keep it down.” 

“Right.” He paused, looking at his own food with hesitation before shrugging and taking a bite. 

Doyoung laughed, sinking into the seat next to the boy, “He’ll probably throw it up, but then he’ll say he made more room and eat again.”

Jungwoo shoved him whilst mid-bite before focusing on the task before him.

You looked at him, “How about you?” Referencing the lone apple in his hand. 

“Oh I don’t drink enough to get sick in the mornings, I’m just less of a bacon dude, more of an apple guy.” He grinned, taking a bite. 

“Johnny?” Taeil asked.

Jaehyun leaned back in his chair, grabbing the coffee Taeil just sat down. 

“Sleeping, you know how he is the day after.”

Taeil nodded, “Yeah, I figured, but I thought he’d smell the bacon and be the first one down.” He laughed to himself grabbing another cup of coffee and raised it in your direction.

You shook your head smiling. Jaehyun threw his arm around the back of your chair and you looked at him. He was sipping the coffee and frowning ahead of him.

“What are you still doing here? Did I not make it clear that you should leave?” Your eyes widened at the sound of the voice you heard this morning. 

“Yuta!” Taeil scolded, still setting down a plate for him. He shrugged in response taking the seat at the head of the table, farthest from you.

Jungwoo looked up intensely chewing and just as intensely glancing between the two of you.

You shrunk down in your seat, avoiding eye contact with him. Jaehyun glanced at you and set down his mug. 

“You ready?” He asked, standing up with a stretch. You immediately followed his lead. 

“Yeah.”

“Let me grab my keys real quick. You haven’t moved right?” 

You nodded, watching Jaehyun jog up the stairs for a moment.

Taeil came and stood next to you, cup in hand, “You guys close?”

You shrugged, turning back to face him. “We used to be.”

He nodded silently, watching Jaehyun reappear.

“Got everything?” He asked, opening the door as you started towards the exit. You nodded and turned back to the kitchen one last time, sending a wave and a smile. 

You didn’t miss Yuta’s scowl.

“Don’t mind Yuta, he’s just usually cranky the night after.” Jaehyun reassured you, but it didn’t do much good. 

You looked out the window and nodded silently.

“Did you atleast enjoy last night?” He asked, attempting at rekindling the conversation.

“Yeah, I think I did. Honestly a lot of it was a blur.” You let out a strained laugh.

He joined you, “That’s what makes it so fun.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

There was a comfortable silence. The car jolted to a stop.

“This is you right?”

You had zoned out and missed half the ride back.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks for the ride. Mark would’ve killed me if I asked him to pick me up.”

He nodded, “No problem. I didn’t mind at all. We should hang out again, I’ve missed you.”

You grinned, “Same, we’ll definitely hang out, just let me know when and where.” 

“Will do.”

You shivered as you stepped out of the car and slammed the door. You stepped back, wrapping your arms around yourself and gave a short wave as he left before making your way to your door.

You let yourself in quietly, taking off your heels and turning around only to let out a startled scream.

“Yuna?! What the hell are you doing?! You scared the shit out of me!” 

Yuna was sitting on the couch staring at the front door, looking as if she had been waiting all night.

“Well? How was last night? I’m assuming things went well because here you are waltzing in at 11:30 in the morning.” She was taunting you.

You groaned, “At least let me shower first.”

She squealed, clapping her hands whilst bouncing on the couch.

You paused, “Last night… Mark…”

Her face scrunched up, “Yeah, he’s kind of pissed. We both forgot to tell him… but we’ll make it up to him. I was thinking we’d bring him lunch.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Wait?! Both forgot? Did you hook up with someone again?!”

She continued shaking her head with a bright smile and shoved you towards the bathroom. “Clean up first!”

She laughed at your protest but you eventually gave in.

“Maaarrrk. Come on, we said we’re sorry. I mean honestly we were both drunk out of our minds, how could we have even texted you?” Yuna pouted at him, something she always did to get her way with him.

He looked away, staring at the cupcakes you had brought as a peace offering.

“If it makes you feel any better I made a complete fool out of myself this morning.” You said, still twiddling your thumbs. 

He cocked his head slightly, an indication that you had his attention.

“The guy I slept with totally threw me out.”

He frowned, looking at you, “Why on earth would that make me feel any better?”

You shrugged avoiding eye contact.

“Who was it?”

“What? Are you gonna beat him up?” Yuna asked, laughing as she stole a cupcake.

“Maybe.” He turned his attention to you, “So who?”

“Yuta.”

“Yuta? As NCT frat boy Yuta? Why would you sleep with him?” He asked, his voice increasing a decibel. 

“Umm.. Have you seen him? He’s hot as hell.” Yuna said, licking the frosting off her fingers before giving him a look. “I’m glad she did. It’s about time she got some action.”

“How can you be glad she slept with him? He’s a total asshole! Plus he kicked her out this morning!” He asked, reaching for the coveted cupcake. She slapped his hand away, taking a bite.

“Okay, but everyone knows when you sleep with someone at a party, you don’t stay the night, or you at least don’t stay long enough for breakfast in the morning. No offense.” The last part directed at you, but you just continued to stare at the floor.

“Well, wouldn’t you know?” Mark spat out, for once losing his temper. 

Yuna paused and gave him a look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It’s just that, just because you go sleeping around and know the ‘etiquette’ or whatever, doesn’t mean that someone like Y/N would know.” He turned around blocking himself off from her gaze.

“Whatever. I don’t need this.” She stood up grabbing her bag. “We came to apologize, I didn’t come to be attacked. You know I’m sorry I ditched you last night but I don’t need to be called a whore cause you’re still pissy about the whole thing.” 

She slammed the door on the way out, glaring at nothing in particular.

Well. There goes your ride.

Mark sighed, slouching into the cushion of his couch.

“I didn’t call her a whore. At least I didn’t mean to. It’s just she was totally attacking you, and you did nothing wrong. Except maybe sleep with a dickwad.” He groaned, rubbing his hands on his face. “I would never kick you out like that.”

“I know.” You replied, leaning into his side. “I don’t think she’s actually that mad, she’s just struggling right now. You know how she’s been since they broke up.”

“I just think she’s so desensitized, that she doesn’t even know how to be treated right.”

“I know.” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while.

They weren’t his frat brothers but you were sure he told them all about you and your mistake, judging by the way they were laughing at you.

“Screw them.” Yuna said, glaring at the group. “It’s not even that big of a deal, he should be honored he slept with you.”

You kept your head down, mentally cursing yourself for ever letting him get to you.

The semester had already ended and you had almost forgotten about the frat house and the embarrassment that followed, that is until Yuta and his friends sat themselves behind you in lecture today.

Yuna made a face at you, an attempt to brighten you up. A whole semester with them behind you? This was an actual nightmare.

“Where is Mark?” Yuna muttered checking her phone. “Look I’ve got to go or I’ll be late to my class but you’ll have Mark so don’t let them get to you alright?” 

You nodded, playing with the strings of your sweatshirt. With one last glare Yuna exited the back of the lecture hall.

You felt a presence next you and you stiffened.

“This’ll be fun, don’t you think?” You groaned, of course he would have the nerve to sit next to you only as soon as Yuna leaves. 

You chose to ignore him.

You didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was smirking, “Luck really was on my side-”

“That’s my seat.”

Both you and Yuta looked up and you sighed in relief seeing that it was Mark, “I don’t see a name on it.” Yuta cocked his head, the smirk still plastered over his face. 

Mark just stared at him, not moving. 

Eventually Yuta sighed, standing up and staring down at Mark, the height difference only enhancing the mood he was going for. “It’s a shame you’re no fun.” He moved to the seat behind yours and rested his feet on the back of your chair.

You grimaced as you felt the pressure, and rolled your eyes in annoyance. Mark sat down, turning to you.

“You good?” He asked, leaning in close to you.

Again, you nodded silently.

This was going to be a long semester.

“Are you still coming over to my place tonight?” Mark asked, packing his notebook in his bag.

Nodding, you replied, “Yeah, I still have clothes there right? I’ve got to run to the library and get some stuff first, then I’ll just come over.”

“Yeah, if not, you can just borrow something of mine.” 

You nodded in agreement, watching as the last of his things were secured in his bag. 

“Alright, I’m gonna head out, text me if you need anything.” He waved back at you and made his way out of the hall.

You felt Yuta lean his head forward inches away from yours. You flinched away, bending down to get your things.

“You have plans tonight?” You frowned at his question, or rather statement. He had obviously heard the conversation between you and Mark.

You chose to ignore him, one of your greater ideas.

“Umm.. There’s a party this weekend, if you wanna come.”

You struggled to hold back a snort. Was this his new way of tormenting you? Why on earth would you go to another one of his frat parties?

“It’s for Jaehyun’s birthday.”

You froze, hand half way in your backpack. After a moment you stood up, clearing your throat, attempting to move towards the exit only to find him blocking your way.

You peered behind him, his regular clique of friends long gone, you frowned. 

“What?” You breathed out, tired of whatever mind game that he wanted to play.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the ever present scowl replaced by a timid look.

“I think it’d be nice of you to go. Cause you’re friends and all.” He shrugged half heartedly, like he was struggling to ask you to go.

He glanced at your scrunched face, confusion written all over it. 

“It’s gonna be a small party, not like a huge thing. Just the boys and a few friends.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s gonna be really chill.”

“Right.”

You hesitated to ask for the date and time, but it was for Jaehyun’s birthday so you felt obligated. 

You and Jaehyun had gotten closer over the last few months, a small joy in a hectic semester. 

“It’s Friday, at seven. Don’t feel obligated to bring anything but yourself.” He sent you a small smile, one that sent an unsettling feeling through your stomach. 

You nodded, skeptical of the situation. Your mind was racing, an internal struggle overwhelming you.

By the time you had focused back in, there was a stream of students passing by you, already entering for the next lecture, Yuta no where to be found. 

You sighed, hiking your backpack up on your back and heading towards the library. 

It was hard to concentrate on the task ahead of you, especially when all you had was thoughts of what was to come this weekend. 

“Excuse me.” You flinched, nodding apolegitcally at the girl who reached for a book that you were blocking. 

You shook your head, trying to remember what you had come here for. After a half and hour of racking your brain you gave up, opting to just go to Mark’s.

“So I didn’t find any of your clothes, but you’ve got your toothbrush here.” You weren’t focused on what Mark was saying, walking into his apartment in a daze. 

“Y/N?” You turned to face him, eyes slightly more alert.

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

You sighed, flopping on to the couch and closed your eyes.

He sat next to you, and you felt his intense gaze over you.

You sat up suddenly, facing him. “What would you do if you had a friend who wasn’t really on good terms with a friend of a friend and you were invited to this friend’s kickback but it would be awkward to bring your other friend, but then it would be wrong if you didn’t tell this friend about the party, but it would also be bad to not go to the other friend’s party cause it’s his birthday?”

“What?” 

You sighed, collecting your thoughts. “Jaehyun’s frat is having a party to celebrate his birthday and I was invited.”

“Okay... so?” He furrowed his eyebrows. 

“It’s supposed to be a small thing, like just the frat and a few friends.”

“Right? What’s the problem?”

“Mark, what do I tell Yuna? I can’t tell her that I’m going to a party cause she’ll want to come, but that would be weird because it’s a small thing, and you know,,, Johnny. I’m sure she’ll end up making a scene.”

Mark sighed, looking away from you. “Just don’t tell her, or do, and just say she can’t go. I don’t really care.” 

He stood up making his way to the kitchen. You groaned. Mark and Yuna haven’t quite been the same since the incident after the party. You haven’t found them willingly enter the same room, and even if they were forced to, they refused to interact. You were often caught in the middle of they’re snide remarks regarding each other.

“I don’t really want to go alone though. I’m not close enough with any of the frat guys to hang out there.” You griped, hands fiddling with your sleeves again.

“I thought you were cool with them.”

“Yeah, we’re friendly enough, but it’s still awkward.”

There was a poignant pause. 

“Mark?” You whined, hoping that he would catch the hint.

“No, I’m done with parties.” He held up a hand, waving it in refusal.

“But it’s going to be a small one, it’s not even a real party. Please?”

“Are you even allowed to bring anyone?”

You shrugged, “He didn’t say, but it doesn’t matter, they won’t make you leave. And if they do then I’ll just say hi to Jaehyun and then leave.”

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Who even invited you?”

“Yuta.” You whispered out.

“Yuta? Why would he invite you?” He frowned, deep in his own thoughts.

“He said it would be nice for Jaehyun. Plus I doubt he’s going to do anything, especially because it’s Jae’s birthday. You know as much as a dick he is to girls, he probably cares about his frat brothers.” You found yourself defending Yuta.

He shot you a look, before shaking his head. 

“You owe me.”

You grinned, pumping your fists in victory.

“Yes! I owe you a thousand times.” You stood up, “Where my sweats?”

“You mean my sweats.” He just shook his head and pointed towards his room, “They’re on my chair.”

You slid past his door, grabbing hold of the sweats that had been designated as yours. 

After changing a picture on his desk caught your eye. It was a photo of the three of you at the beach, a memory made last year during spring break. You smiled to yourself, eyes tracing over the bright smiles. Your eyes shook as they reached Mark’s profile, too busy staring at Yuna to focus on the lense of the camera. 

You winced, recognizing the way that he looked at Yuna, your heart broke for him. It wasn’t the first time you noticed the way he watched her, but seeing it so definite made you hurt for him.

“Y/N? You coming? I’m gonna start the movie if you don’t hurry your ass up!” Mark shouted from the living room, and you tore yourself away, skidding back to the couch.

“Stop doing that, you’re gonna crash into something.” He laughed at you.

“What’s the point of having hardwood floors then?” You climbed over the back of the couch after dumping your clothes next to your bag. 

“Who said you got to choose?” You grumbled to yourself.

“Me, cause you owe me a thousand favors now.” You smiled cheesily at him, hoping to ease his irritation with the situation you dragged him into.

“Right. Do you want anything to drink, eat, possibly a foot massage that would appease you?”

He shoved you upon hearing your teasing tone. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You laughed, turning to focus on the screen ahead of you.

You opted for something a bit more casual than what you wore the last time you entered the frat house, definitely a bit more modest. 

The mood was totally different the moment that you passed the door. 

“Y/N! You came!” You smiled at the familiar face.

“Of course I came, it’s Jae’s birthday.”

Jungwoo peered at Mark who stood next to you, taking in the house as if it was his first time seeing it. 

“Who’s this?” He frowned, racking his brain and trying to connect face to name.

“Oh you probably don’t remember.” You laughed at the memory, “This is Mark, he kind of took care of you at the party we met at.”

His eyes flashed at sudden recognition.

“Oh! Right, you were the one that stole Y/N away from me! I never did get that dance.” He grinned cheekily at Mark’s flustered expression.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on drinking that much this time.” He winked at you.

“That’s what you said last time.” A skinny boy with wide eyes interrupted him, throwing his arm around his shoulder.

The newcomer smiled at you, eyes turning into half moons. “I’m Taeyong, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“That’s cause you haven’t.” The familiar laid back tone answered before you a chance to. 

“You were out of town the last time she was here.” Doyoung faced you, giving you a brief smile before turning back to Taeyong. “You know if you stuck around and chilled like everyone else then you would’ve known.”

You felt the tension between the two of them, glancing at Mark who had the same expression on his face. 

“I’m here now, so what’s the problem?” The tone was less teasing than you expected, obviously things weren’t smooth between the two of them.

“It doesn’t matter, if you didn’t up and leav-”

“Her name’s Y/N.” Jungwoo interrupted, not caring that it wasn’t quite the right timing to introduce you.

The irritation washed off Taeyong’s face as he sent you a soft smile. “It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He winked at your nervous expression. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I think I need a drink.” After sending Doyoung a glare he found Taeil close by.

“Sorry about that.” Doyoung muttered embarrassed, but he didn’t seem too genuine about his apology.

You smiled back at him, another awkward glance at Mark.

“Well drinks anyone?” Jungwoo asked, hoping to lighten the mood. 

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You giggled at him. 

He glared at you teasingly, “What are you trying to say?”

“Okay okay, here.” Taeil swept by shoving a handful of drinks in your direction.

“Well that was easy.” Jungwoo commented before moving to greet the next newcomer. 

With everything happening so quickly you hadn’t noticed that Doyoung had also escaped.

“See. I told you it would be awkward, if you weren’t here I’d be standing alone in a corner.” You shoved Mark’s side, handing him your drink.

“What’s this?” 

“I’m not drinking tonight. I don’t want to do anything stupid again, drink up.” He grinned at you.

“Well I guess this is payment enough.”

It was some time later that you found yourself laughing alongside Jaehyun when you realized that you hadn’t seen Mark it a while.

“I’m gonna go grab a water.” You excused yourself and set out to find him.

“You came.” You jumped at the sound of Yuta’s voice, uncomfortably close to you.

You spun around, facing him. 

“You brought your little boyfriend though.” He was obviously drunk, more so than the last time. Or perhaps you were just more aware and now you could notice his tendencies. 

“Right. Have you seen him?” You asked curtly, trying to focus on the task at hand. 

“So he is your boyfriend?” The alcohol had definitely left him no control over his emotions as you frowned at the crestfallen look on his face. 

“No, Yuta focus. Have you seen Mark?” 

“I don’t like him.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to enjoy teasing him. “Why not?”

“He’s too touchy with you.”

You cocked your head to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only your boyfriend should touch you like that. You guys are like hugging and stuff.” He pouted at you, a new version of Yuta you had never imagined.

“You touched me.” You mumbled out, watching his reaction.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You stepped back, nervous for the first time. This version of Yuta made you uncomfortable. You were so used to the asshole that made snide comments and teased you. You knew it was just the alcohol talking but you felt restless upon seeing this new side of him. 

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted your savior.

“Mark!” The boy spun around face bursting into a smile as he made his way over to you, slinging his arm over your shoulder. 

“Y/N where’ve you been? I lost you.” His smile faded as he noticed your company. “What are you doing here?”

His tone had turned cold and he pulled you tighter against him, an action not going unnoticed by Yuta.

“I’m having a conversation. And you’re not her boyfriend.” Mark glared at him, not appreciating the tone.

“Okay?”

You cut in between their little stare down, moving to face Mark, “Hey, I already wished Jae a happy birthday and stuff, it’s getting kinda late. We should get going now if you’re ready to go.” 

You motioned towards the door in case he could understand you.

He nodded, not really paying attention, something that you were expecting. 

“Alright, let’s go say bye to Jae and then I’ll drive us home, okay?” You talked slowly, hoping that he would understand more easily.

You grabbed Mark’s hand, pulling him towards the patio, the last place you had seen Jaehyun.

“Oh.” You stopped and turned to face the boy staring at two of your hands. “Bye Yuta.”

His eyes whipped up to find yours, a small smile taking over his features. He lifted his hands and waved slightly, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

“What is wrong with him?” Mark muttered under his breath, face grimaced at the sight. 

You sighed, resuming your journey to Jaehyun. “He’s drunk.”

You slammed the passenger door shut and slid into the driver’s seat, once more checking that all of Mark’s limbs were attached and in the car. 

“That was fun.” He laughed, staring at nothing in particular. 

You snorted at his reaction. “So I don’t owe you anything anymore?”

“I never said that.”

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” You asked, taking a quick glance at him before regathering your attention on the road. 

“Yeah.”

You drove in silence for a while, and peeked over at him. He was so silent you were sure that he had fallen asleep. But his eyes were open, hooded, but definitely open. He was staring out the window, watching the buildings flash past him.

“Do you think Yuna wants to come?” 

You were startled by his sudden question.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Mark.”

“I know. But I kind of miss her.” He sounded so upset, and you began to get angry at Yuna. 

“I know Mark. Things will get better though. She’s just being stubborn.”

He sighed, fogging up the window for a few seconds before it dissipated under the cold.

“Okay.”

You hesitated to continue. 

“Hey Mark?”

He didn’t respond,

Your eyes found his sleeping figure slumped in the corner of the seat. 

You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

“How do you do it? Deal with her knowing that she’ll probably never love you back?” You asked no one in particular, listening to the silence that followed your harsh question.

You spent the last few miles of the ride with your mind involuntarily wandering back to Yuta. Now that you thought about it he had been acting weird since the day he invited you to the party. 

It wasn’t that you missed the nagging or teasing that he constantly made you endure. But it made you uneasy, reminding you why he starting doing so in the first place.

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the road as you pulled into Mark’s designated spot. The car rocked to a standstill.

“It’s because I love her that I can do it.”

You turned to face the seemingly asleep boy, mentally cursing yourself for letting him hear your thoughts.

“Yuna, don’t you think you’re being a little too harsh on him?”

She had just spent the last twenty minutes purposely avoiding Mark, stating that it would absolutely ruin her day to see him.

“He called me a slut, are you really taking his side?” Her tone had turned fierce as you expected.

“He didn’t call you a slut. Besides if it’s something you’re ashamed of, then don’t do it.” You muttered the last bit, trying to soften the tone.

She whipped her head at you. “What? So now you think I’m a slut too?”

“No, it’s just if you’re so upset with the way that people think of you, then why do you keep giving them reason to think that way?”

It was harsh, but you had finally given up on stubborn Yuna. It was time to finally hammer it into her head.

She was at a loss for words when you looked back at her. “I shouldn’t have to care about what other people think of me.”

You bit your lip, frustrated with the way she was thinking.

“Then why are you so mad at Mark? If you don’t care what other people think of you, why are you so mad?”

“Because it’s Mark. Of course I care what he thinks.” 

You stared at her, mouth slightly open, confused with her statement. But it seemed like you weren’t the only one, her eyes widened, throwing her hand over her mouth.

“I mean, he shouldn’t have said that because he’s supposed to be someone I can count on to not think of me that way. I’m supposed to be able to trust that he knows me, and has my back no matter what, not that he’d stab me in the back like that.”

“He didn’t stab you in the back. And he does have your back, no matter what. You know he’s never said one bad thing about you during this time? He just keeps asking if you’re doing okay.”You paused, thinking about your next words, hesitating for a moment. 

”You know I think it’s kind of embarrassing how much you’re bad mouthing him and avoiding him when all he does as make sure that you’re doing fine.” You glanced at her as she turned away from you, trying to hide the fact that she was furrowing her eyebrows. 

“Don’t you think it’s been long enough? For both of you? Would it be that hard to forgive him?” You raised your eyebrows in hopes that you would no longer be the split messenger between the two.

There was a deep sigh from her side. 

“I’ll talk to him later, just the two of us. I guess I owe him that much.” You smiled at her flushed face.

She grinned back, wrapping her arm in yours, “Now tell me about the party last weekend.”

You jolted your head to the side, wide eyed. “H-how did you...?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. It’s not like I was invited. Besides it would’ve been weird right, for me to show up.” You smiled at her, thankful that she wasn’t upset.

“To be honest, it was fun. I missed hanging out with them.” She elbowed you in the side.

“Any one in particular you like hanging out with?” Wiggling her eyebrows, she sent a suggestive look your way.

You blushed, understanding her intentions. “No. They’re all fun.”

“Right. Did Yuta bother you much? I hope Mark didn’t leave you alone to be bugged by him.” She scrunched her nose, evidence that she was still annoyed by him.

“No. He didn’t bother me, he was pretty drunk.” You frowned, “He actually said something though that bugged me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, he just kept talking about me having a boyfriend.” You paused, eyes shaking at what you were about to say. “He asked if he could be my boyfriend.” 

Yuna made her scandalized face, teasing you as you cut in, attempting to save face for both yourself and Yuta.

“But he was really drunk, who knows if he even knew what he was saying.” You hurried out,  nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Didn’t you say he had been acting weird around you lately? Like not teasing you weird, but like he was actually kind of nice to you?” You nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, he was actually the person who invited me to Jae’s party.” 

“Really?” She asked, squinting in confusion. “That’s strange, I thought he would’ve been the last person to invite you.”

“Right?” You thought to yourself for a moment, “He wouldn’t do something would he?”

“No, I think he’s just gotten bored. Maybe he’s finally tired of teasing you.” You laughed at the thought.

“Sure, I’d die of happiness if that were true.” But there was a small part of you that you chose to ignore, that felt a little sad at the thought.

“Do you want one?” You raised your eyebrow at the scene in front of you.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Yuta gave you a small smile. “Taeil baked them, they’re to die for.”

You frowned at the muffin he was showing you, but eventually took it.

He nodded his head once, indicating for you to try it.

As you bit into the soft texture of the muffin your eyes widened. 

“I know. I’m not usually one for muffins, but I’ll never pass on one from Master Moon.”

You giggled at the title.

“No really, that’s what he calls him self, but I’m not one to argue.” A genuine smile bloomed over his face, the first time you had seen it.

Unknowingly you returned the smile, something about it making you feel better already.

He rubbed the back of his neck, an embarrassed smile, replacing the previous, “I’m sorry we got off on a bad foot.” He let out a big sigh, “I kind of let things get out of hand.”

You felt yourself closing off again, but realized that his words were genuine.

“I’m not gonna lie, the stuff you said and things you did hurt me. This class was hell because of you, I even avoided seeing Jaehyun because of you.”

You let out a sigh, and a heavy silence followed. You glanced at the worried expression on Yuta’s face, and you recognized the guilt.

There had been some point where your anger towards Yuta had faded. Perhaps it was the fact that he stopped bothering you, perhaps it was his confession, or perhaps it was the way that he started to look at you. You believed that there was something more to Yuta, and you wanted to get to know that side.

“But if you continue to bring me amazing snacks I’ll have no choice but to forgive you.” You laughed nervously, tearing anxiously at the empty wrapper.

“Then I’ll just have to keep bugging Master Moon.” He grinned, a reflection of yourself.

You felt your face heat up, blushing at his blatant flirting.

“Um.... I know I was like really drunk the other night. I’m not going to pretend I don’t remember pieces, because I do. And I want you to know that even though I was drunk I really meant what I said.” He glanced at you from the side, not brave enough to confront you.

“What do you mean?” You tried not to think of the way that he basically confessed to you, and you chose to ignore it.

“Uh... Do you... not remember?” He scratched his head, ruffling his hair into a more messy look.

“I’m not sure, you were saying a lot of things.” Biting your lip, you focused on the wrapper in your hand.

“Oh... I- uh...I like you.” You whipped your head to face Yuta, who was now avoiding eye contact.

“What?” It came out as a whisper, barely audible to him. You heart began beating faster, and you were worried that he would be able to hear it because it was so loud.

“I like you Y/N. Look, I know I have a pretty shitty way of showing it, but I promise that I’ll make up for it.”

You hated to leave him hanging, but you had no words. You wanted to give him some sort of reassurance, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“Will you go out with me? Or at least one date to show you I’m not a total asshole.” He wasn’t great at hiding the fact that he was nervous, and you giggled at the sight.

“Yeah. I guess one date couldn’t hurt right?” You smiled at him, boldly reaching for his hand.

He wrapped his hand around yours, pulling you close to his chest. you could hear the beating of his heart through his shirt, making you smile at the thought that you were the cause of this.

“I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’m done making stupid decisions.”

© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.

[bokukawas]

All yours

pairing; Hanamaki Takahiro x Reader 

warnings; stalking, anxiety attack, nsfw mentions, fluff & mutual pining

a/n; I enjoyed writing Makki as a lovesick fool way too much

summary; working at a coffee shop, you get a customer that’s a little too interested in you, same as your friend who doesn’t realize you like him just as much

word count; nearly 10k ok I’m sorry I can’t write short fics

 “Makki, he’s here again what do I do!?”

Freaking out a little, you gently massage the bridge of your nose, waiting for your best friend to respond. You had fled to the toilet the second you had put your eyes on the man standing outside the coffee shop door, leaving your co-worker to deal with him.

Working part time as a barista had seemed a good idea to earn some money. After all, you loved making coffee, not only for yourself, but for others as well and just whole-heartily enjoyed the atmosphere of coffee shops. Well that was before you realized how creepy some of the customers could be. Normally they could tell and accept that you were not interested in the least, but that one particularly obtrusive customer just didn’t seem to get it. Or he didn’t want to.

It had started with blatant flirting at the cash register. Then a scribbled phone number with a suggestive message attached to it. After that, he had only started showing up when you were working. Your co-workers had told you he never was there when you weren’t. So to put it short: he was a stalker. A very creepy one. Fuck, why wasn’t Makki answering? Then you remember: he had an interview today. He probably had shut his phone off or put it on silent not to be disturbed. Fuck.

Trying to calm your breathing, you stare at the bathroom door, then at the tiles, counting them in your head to keep your thoughts form circling. It was getting late and you had to close the store alone today. You had noticed it weeks ago, that he was starting to come in later and later in the day, as if he was waiting for the right time to get to you alone. Which would be today. Normally your co-workers stayed longer or even changed shifts with you when they saw he was loitering around, but that wasn’t possible today.

A silent knock pulled you out of your thoughts. “Y/n? Are you all right? He left.”

Clenching your hands into fists, you take a deep breath and steel yourself for what has to be done. You couldn’t just leave and go home now after all.

“Yeah I’m fine, thank you. I’m coming, just give me a second.”

“Take your time” was the silent response to that. Without your co-workers you would have been screwed weeks ago.

Sighing you stand up slowly and walk over to the washbasin, looking in the mirror hanging right above it. You looked ghastly. Everyone could probably tell from miles away how spooked you were over this. You just wished you could do something about this situation, but in fact you couldn’t and the feeling of being powerless made you feel even more on edge.

You send another quick message to Mattsun, Iwaizumi and Oikawa, hoping that at least one of them would look at their phone in the next few minutes. Your co-worker had to leave in a little bit and you would be utterly alone then. And who could guarantee that that creep wouldn’t come back right then, right? He was probably waiting around somewhere, hoping for that exact scenario to happen.

When you step out of the bathroom and rejoin your co-worker behind the counter, she musters you with concern, eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can try and cancel my plans for later and stay with you…,” she suggests, waiting for your response. She seemed sincere enough with her offer, but you didn’t want to ruin yet another date for her. You were a grown up after all.

Circling your shoulders to get a little tension out, you shake your head slightly. “No I’m fine, thanks. It’s gonna be alright, he left after all.”

“In fact he didn’t even come in today; he turned around the second he saw you leave for the bathroom when you spotted him.”

“Maybe he finally took the hint.”

Sighing you start to polish the counter and clean up a little. Starting early will only allow you a head start later when you have to close the store.

Your co-worker still didn’t seem reassured.

“Hey… Y/N are you sure about this? I am not mad, I swear, I’d rather know you’re safe than enjoy my date and read about a horrible murder tomorrow morning. What about your boyfriend, can’t he come and pick you up today as well?”

Throwing her a quick glance, you correct her once again. “He is not my boyfriend”, you sigh, “and no, he’s got a job interview right now, I’m not sure when he’s finished.”

“He basically is your boyfriend. And it’s clear as day that you wish him to be”, she laughs, nudging you in the side to take the edge off. Jokingly you shove her away. “He doesn’t seem to notice though. What is it with men not being able to take a hint anyway?” you chuckle.

Well to Hanamakis defense, you never actually implied to him that your feelings had changed, even though they had, long ago. But you were content enough with him as your best friend. That was better than a ruined friendship because of unrequired feelings after all.

“I never told him” you feel obliged to say. “How could he know?”

Your co-worker just raised her eyebrows. “The way you look at him with literal heart eyes sometimes should be enough of a clue for him. Also I’m pretty sure your other friend knows.”

Wincing you shoot her another glance. “Which one?” you ask, panicking. If it was Mattsun you had a problem, because he definitely would have told Makki.

“The one in Argentina.”

Thank god. Oikawa could be a blabbermouth as well, but he was decent in regard of matters like this.

“Through my FaceTime’s?” you ask.

She just nods at that. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice his shit-eating grin every time you talk about Hanamaki to him. It was pretty obvious.” She laughs. “He’s living miles and miles away and he still figured it out right away, I don’t get how Hanamaki hasn’t figured you out already.”

Shrugging, you continue to clean all the surfaces. There were no customers left here, so all you had to do now was close the store, put the money in the safe, clean everything and lock the door behind you. Your eye finds the clock.

“C’mon Kaori, get your pretty ass to your date, I’ve been cockblocking you long enough now.”

She just laughs at that and strips off her apron. “Fine, if you say so.”

“I can just lock the door right behind you and then clean everything in peace, I’ll be fine, I promise. And this way you can tell me about a hopefully more successful love story than my own on Friday.” Winking at her, you shove her into the locker room so that she can get her stuff and be gone.

While she changes and slips out of her work clothes, you check your phone again. Mattsun had answered.

“Are you alright? Did he leave? I can’t come over to walk you home, but call me if you leave, please.”

You type out a quick message to him and put your phone back in your back pocket as Kaori steps out of the locker room.

“Wow. You look stunning,” examining her from head to toe you nod approvingly.

She just laughs at that and punches you in the shoulder. “You’re such a sweet-talker! That comes from you always hanging out with those boys of yours.”

Holding up two lipsticks, she lets you choose. You decide for the slightly darker red, it fits her outfit well and makes her seem mature.

A figure appears in front of the door and your heart violently skips a beat, before Kaori squeals and you realize it must be her date.

“You didn’t tell me he would come and get you!” you laugh as your heart resumes its normal beating pattern.

“Well, what do you think?” she asks as she slowly makes her way to the door, already waving at him.

Pulling a face, you just give her thumbs up. “Nice. I hope he treats you right… well he IS fetching you from work, so that’s a good start right there. Now don’t leave him waiting.” Shoving her outside, you give her another small wave, before you pull the door closed behind her and immediately lock it.

Sighing, you watch her lock her arms with her date and slender down the street. It’s gotten dark outside already. The utter silence of the now empty coffee shop suddenly creeps you out. Fishing your phone out of your back pocket again, you call Mattsun. He answers his phone almost immediately.

“Are you alright?” was the first question he shot at you. You chuckle. When had they gotten so protective over you?

“I’m fine Mattsun. I just got creeped out for a second because it’s so silent now that everyone is gone.”

Explaining to him what has happened earlier, you bring the money to the safe. After that, you start doing your chores and clean the counter, before turning to the coffee machines and putting everything in the dishwasher before turning it on. You could hear him work as well as he quietly chats with you about this and that.

Going into the locker room you notice someone standing in front of the closed coffee shop door and your heart nearly stops as the phone slips from your hand and crashes to the counter.

After taking a double take, you realize it was actually Hanamaki standing there, waving at you with a dumb grin plastered on his face.

“Fuck” you exclaim as you try to calm down again and grab your phone, where Mattsun was currently freaking out. “Y/N? Y/N!? Did something happen? Goddamn answer me!”

Bringing the phone to your ear again, you take in a deep breath before answering. “Sorry Mattsun, Makki just showed up and made me lose my shit.”

You go to the door, keys already in your hand when you spot another figure a little down the street. “Oh shit.”

Turning the key quickly, to let Makki in, who was already starting to talk like a waterfall about the job interview, you pull him in quickly, before throwing the door shut again, frantically trying to get the keys in again to turn it around. Your hands were shaking too much, though.

Hanamaki stops in his track when he realizes you were freaking out, keys in your violently shaking hand, the phone forgotten in the other. He just guides your hand back to your ear, so you could hear Mattsun, who was freaking out again, while simultaneously taking the keys from your other hand, to lock the door behind you.

“Sorry Mattsun. Makki scared the living shit out of me and while letting him in I saw that the freak actually really waited down the street.”

Hanamaki grows rigid upon hearing that, casting a quick glance outside the window to get his eyes on the guy who has been bothering you for months now. He couldn’t find him. That bastard had probably left the second he saw you weren’t alone anymore.

Handing the phone over to Makki, as Mattsun had wanted to talk to him, you glide down onto a chair. Wow. If Makki hadn’t showed up in that instance that could have seriously gone wrong.

Zoning out completely to your worst-case scenarios, you don’t notice the way Hanamaki looks at you. Like you’re the most precious thing to him. Like his life depended on your well-being. He was mad at himself for not checking his phone quicker when he had finished his job interview. He just had been so happy that it had worked out well this time that he had simply jumped right onto the next bus to tell you in person, he knew when you had to work out of his head after all.

His eyes crinkle with concern as you start to breathe more and more quickly.

“Mattsun, I’ll call you back later, okay?” and with that he simply ends the call before kneeling down in front of you.

“Y/N. Look at me.” He puts his hands on your knees and squeezes slightly to get your attention. Your eyes flick to his face and you see that his lips are moving, but you can’t quite make out what he’s telling you over the sudden ringing in your ears.

“Hey.” He takes one of your hands, which both lay limp in your lap, in his before putting it gently onto his chest as he gives your knee another squeeze. “Breathe with me.” And even though you still can’t quite make out the words leaving his mouth, you get what he’s trying to do and just follow his lead. As you could feel the breath flow in and out of his chest, you breathe in and out slowly as well. It makes you calm down after a while and the ringing in your ears starts to recede before vanishing completely.

Hanamakis eyes never leave your face for the whole situation. When he could tell you had calmed down enough, he lifts his hand from your knee to your face and wipes at your cheek. You hadn’t even realized the tears falling. You did now, though, as they were welling in your eyes rapidly and spilling down your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here now.” Hanamaki stands up next to you and pulls your head flush against his stomach, holding you against him as he gently wipes your tears away.

“I’m scared Hiro” you mutter out after a while. “He was waiting for me to leave.”

“I know. Don’t worry about that now, I’ll take you home from now on every time. And we will go to the police tomorrow. That man is stalking you.”

Nodding against his tummy, you wrap both your arms around him and just focus on relaxing for now.

Hanamakis heart clenches painful in his chest. He’s glad that you can’t feel that, but after all you have been pretty oblivious to his feelings for you. He should have told you he liked you months ago. Seeing you like this and feel you cling to him as if he was the only solid thing in your life right now made his mind spin out of control.

That asshole would need a good punching. No one would ever lay their hands on you if he could prevent it. Looking a little impassive and soft was working in his favor when it came to things like that. No one expected his punch before it was already in their face.

After a while, when he could tell you were relaxing for real now, he took your face in both hands and tilted it up so you were looking at him.

“Are you finished here?” he asks while looking around the empty coffee shop. You only nod in response.

“I was just about to get my stuff when you appeared.”

“Alright. Let’s get you home then.” He pulls you to your feet and joins you in the locker room, watching you open your locker and get your jacket and bag out of it. A smile pulls at his lips as he could see that your whole locker was plastered with Polaroids of him and his friends.

“Let’s go” he repeats and takes the keys from your hand. He lets you switch off the light and pulls the door close behind you, locking it, before giving you back the keys so you could put them in your bag. He didn’t miss the nervous glances you were throwing over your shoulder.

He was not sure if this was a good idea, but he wanted to reassure you that he was there now and you didn’t need to worry anymore, so he reached out for your hand and intertwined your fingers, squeezing lightly. You throw him a surprised glance, but squeeze right back, thankful for his little gesture. Only then do you realize he is still wearing his job interview outfit. Letting your eyes wander from head to toe, you nod approvingly for a second time that day.

“Damn Makki, you look fine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a suit before.”

He chuckles at that and just pulls you forward, getting you walking.

“You want to hear about it?” he silently asks. You could tell he was eager to report on this interview and feel bad immediately for cutting him off so harshly earlier. You nod and give his hand another squeeze, trying not to focus on the fact that your hand seemed to fit perfectly into his. This felt excessively nice.

Makki starts talking about his interview immediately and you listen closely, laughing when he tells you he nearly choked on the water they gave him because he was so nervous. He could be a little shy sometimes; especially if he really wanted something and you could tell that he really, really wanted that job, after his last one had been such a disaster. It seems like this time the job interview went really well though and it made you happy to think that your friend would maybe soon be working at a job that he really enjoys. After a while, he had started to brush his thumb over yours absentmindedly and you tried your best to ignore the warm feeling that was currently spreading inside of you. He only held your hand to comfort you after all, you reminded yourself and there was no need to interpret things into this gesture that were not real.

When you turned the next corner and wanted to turn left, a surprised Hanamaki, who had turned right, pulled you back.

“Oh sorry, I thought you’d maybe want to come over and stay with me tonight”, he scratched his head awkwardly, “just to be sure, you know.”

You hadn’t even thought about that. After all there was a chance that your stalker had followed you before and knew where you lived. Breathing suddenly felt extraordinary hard again and you swallowed loudly. You didn’t even want to think about that possibility and just looked up at Makki, who was studying your face with alert in his eyes again.

“I didn’t want to freak you out, sorry” he apologizes, after he grasped that that had been a stupid thing to say to someone, who has had a panic attack only minutes before.

Shaking your head slightly you exhale slowly. “You’re probably right. Is that okay for you? I don’t want to intrude…”

He flicked your forehead in an instance then. “You know you’re not intruding. We could watch a film later, to get that creep out of your head. Maybe some Ghibli?” An inquiring glance in your direction followed. “Or rather Disney?”

The overwhelming urge to cry again hit you like a brick right then. How could he be so perfect? How could he still not know that you loved him with all your heart? You were sure that Kaori had been right; you probably really looked at your best friend with hearts in your eyes sometimes, but alas how could you not if he was this fucking perfect. Realizing you had stopped walking and blatantly stared at his face, you manage to give him a crooked grin. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

Makki on the other hand had stopped breathing for a moment as he thought he finally overstepped the boundary of your friendship. It wasn’t your fault after all that he couldn’t manage feeling normal towards you. He sincerely hoped that inviting you to stay with him wouldn’t backfire at him horribly. Don’t act like a lovesick puppy Makki, he repeated over and over in his head again. Act normal. You’ve done this a thousand times before, you can handle it one more time.

Only this time he wasn’t sure he could. The way your hand felt in his was divine and he didn’t want to let go of it ever again. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do right now was give you a bone-crushing hug, so he could feel your body pressed against his. He wanted to bury his nose in the crook of your neck, inhale, and forget about everything else, because nothing else seemed to matter at that moment.

Slightly shaking his head as he realized he was letting his mind wander, he found you staring at him again. You of course couldn’t know what was going on in your friends head, but you didn’t miss the blush that was spreading on his cheeks. “You okay Makki? You zoned out pretty bad” you laugh as his blush deepens.

“Nah I’m fine. Have you decided yet? Ghibli or Disney? Or something else? We could watch a horror movie?” he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows, which earned him a punch in the side from you.

“No way! My whole day has been a horror movie. I don’t need more horror. Also I won’t forget that one time we watched “The Ring” and both you and Mattsun fell asleep and Tooru and I were freaking out alone, because Iwa wasn’t there. I couldn’t use the tub for months after that because I was so scared!”

Hanamaki just snorted as he remembered that night. Both he and Matsukawa were pretty chill when it came to horror movies. Iwaizumi was nonchalant about them, but you and Oikawa were the biggest scaredy-cats in the world. That had been the first and last time they could convince you to watch a horror movie. The fond smile on his face grew even bigger as he remembered how they had woken up to find you and Oikawa cling to each other as if your dear life was depending on it.

Sighing, he voiced what was going through his head. “Damn, I miss Shittykawa. Who would’ve thought, right?”

Clenching his hand in yours, you make him look down at you. “I would. I miss him, too.” You sigh as well. “Hopefully he’s coming back to visit soon.”

“Yeah… hopefully.” And with that you finally reached his home. It wasn’t much, just a very small apartment in a more than unimpressive high-rise, but to you it somehow felt more like home than your own flat. Following him closely as he punches the button to get the elevator down, you notice that he still hasn’t let go of your hand. He also hadn’t ceased the brushing of his thumb over yours. It was endearing that he didn’t even notice he was doing it. When the elevator arrived and you stepped inside, you follow a sudden urge and step even closer to him and rest your head against his arm, closing your eyes.

Hanamakis heart does a double beat in his chest as you snuggle into his arm. “Are you tired? We can go straight to bed if you’d prefer that.”

“Mhh no. I think I’ve settled for Disney.”

“Which one?” he asks, even though he could guess your answer.

“Tangled.”

Giving you a surprised look, he tries to calm down his heart yet again as it pounds heavily in his chest. “Why tangled? I thought you’d say Aladdin.”

You open your eyes again as the little ping of the elevator indicates that you arrived at the right floor. “It’s your favorite Disney movie.” You shrug. “We also watched Aladdin the last time.”

Makki wanted to groan. It was annoying that you were so attentive with his likes and dislikes, yet you didn’t see how much he yearned to be with you. To touch you. To love you.

Smirking down at you instead, he chuckles. “Attentive, aren’t you?”, before he finally lets go of your hand to open the door to his flat. Throwing it wide open for you, you tag along and pull off your shoes, striding right into the living room, your friend right behind you.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll be right back, I just can’t wait get rid of this” he points at his suit, “shit.” Laughing you nod and throw yourself on his couch, sinking into his soft pillows at once. Makki usually had a horrible fashion sense, but in the end, he somehow made it work and looked endearing in his mismatched colors and shapes. Well at least he looked endearing to you. When he came back, he had changed into a pale purple sleeveless hoodie and black sweatpants. Your mouth felt really dry suddenly, as you took in the defined muscle of his arms. Noticing then, that he had something in his hands you raise your eyebrows inquiringly.

“I figured you might want to wear something more comfy as well?”

He throws another pair of seriously washed out black joggers at you, which you promptly fail to catch and get hit by square in the face. “Makki!” you complain as he laughs. “Want the Tee for now, or the Hoodie?” he asks as he holds up both options.

“Oh my god, that’s got to be the most hideous T-Shirt you could find!” You cry out as you start laughing at the green T-Shirt with bright neon strawberries on it in different colors. “Give me that.” He obliges and hands it over, hanging the hoodie over the back of the couch nonetheless. He knew you; you would probably get cold later and need it anyways. As you get up to change, he also hands you a pair of big wooly socks.

Fuck, he was so perfect for you, you could cry. He knew you like no one else did.

“Thanks Hiro”, you mumble as you make your way to his bathroom to change. At the first glance in the mirror, you shriek. “MAKKI!? How could you let me walk around like this? Oh my god I look like I’ve just rediscovered my emo-phase.”

You could hear him laugh in the living room. “I thought you looked cute.”

“Fuck you!” you shout as you take in the utter mess that once had been your mascara. It makes you crack up, though. In some way, it looked hilarious and the fact that Makki could look you in the face while you looked like this without starting to laugh somehow made you feel warm inside.

After freshening up and fully removing your make up, you put on his clothes. His familiar scent soon engulfs you and you put your nose into the shirt and give it a good sniff. Thank god, no one could see this, but it just felt comforting to you. Of course, everything was way too big on you and you had to roll the sweatpants up a good bit, before deciding that you could just stuff them into the likewise too big wool socks. You must look utterly ridiculous, but the fact that he had given you clothes of his own so you could feel more comfortable made you unreasonably happy.

The second you stepped out of his bathroom, Makki knew that today was going to be a test for his patience. How could someone look so utterly cute in the most hideous clothes he could find? Because yes, you had been right: he had searched for the most revolting clothing he had to offer so that he wouldn’t be too tempted. Boy had he been wrong. He wanted to grab you, kiss you stupid, and finally find out how your lips would feel against his. Violently slapping that thought right out of his head, he lifts his hands, showing you what he was holding this time. It was a piece of cake, with two forks already embedded in it.

“I bought this earlier as a treat to myself if the interview went well… or as comfort food if it didn’t.”

“Basically you just wanted cake Hiro.”

“Yeah. Wanna share?”

“No thanks, it’s all yours.”

While trying to make your way to the couch again, you promptly slip with the too large socks on your feet and nearly fall face down. You manage to get back in balance while doing a stupid little flaying dance and you could hear Makki start laughing frantically.

“Oh my god that looked fantastic, do that again” he laugh-snorts as he picks up his phone from the table and puts the camera on you.

“No Makki, fuck you” you respond, but fail to hold in your own laughter. That must have looked seriously stupid. “What are you so goddamn tall for anyway? I’m getting lost in these clothes.”

Still laughing he only holds up his phone. “You look ridiculous” and fucking cute “strike a pose for the guys.”

So you do. Then you go and glance at the picture and start laughing again. You really did look ridiculous. A few seconds later, you hear the little pling from your phone, indicating that he’d sent the photo in the group chat. They were going to die laughing at how stupid you looked.

Finally, you flop down on his couch again as he sets down his cake in front of it and gets his TV started. “Hey, Y/n?”

“Hmh?”

“Want some hot chocolate instead?”

Snapping your head up, you look at your friends face with literal heart eyes. Since Makki also has a very sweet tooth, he has perfected his hot coco and it was seriously the best you ever had. Eagerly nodding you get up to help him, but he gently pushes you back down.

“No, you served enough people today, let me do this for you. I’ll be right back.” And with that he left you sitting a little speechless on his couch. Could he get any more perfect?

In fact, Hanamaki had left your side to take a quick breather. He seriously had underestimated the effect you would have on him, wearing his clothes. Even if it were the ugliest he could find. His fingers were itching to touch you, his whole body heating at the thought of holding you in his arms. Oh boy, he had it bad. Wearing his clothes made you look like his girlfriend and his brain was simply short-circuiting at that. Trying to get his thoughts off you and onto something else, he started preparing his special hot chocolate. He knew you loved it and the way you had looked at him when he suggested making it proved him right. It had also proved his knees to be really weak. Inwardly cursing himself for being such a mess for you, he poured the hot chocolate in your favorite cup and topped it with some cream, before sprinkling a few chocolate drops on top. When he came back in his living room, you were already stretched out on his couch, blanket loosely thrown over your legs, leaving him his usual corner free so he could settle as well. Makki couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face.

“Here. Careful, it’s still hot.” He handed over the cup cautiously, holding it so you could take the handle and not burn your hands immediately.

“Thanks Makki, you’re the best.” Being a little too greedy, you ignore his warning and directly burn your tongue.

“Mhhhh hot hot hot.”

“I told you so”, he snorts as he dims the lights before he flops down next to you and sets up the movie. Throwing you a glance, he asks: “Ready?” to which you simply nod.

You watched in silence, thoughts drifting through various scenarios of the day as you sip your hot chocolate. At one point you glance at Hanamaki next to you, happily munching away on his piece of cake, his eyes fixed on the TV, before finally being able to focus on the movie yourself. When the film slowly came to that special scene, you didn’t even have to look over to your friend, you just knew he was starting to smirk. You lift your finger warningly. “Don’t you say it, don’t you dare say it,” you state as you start crying when the lanterns are put into the air.

“Aww you’re such a crybaby.” He laughs, but puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, while simultaneously reaching over to give you a tissue box. “I knew this would happen.”

Sniffing you just take a tissue and rest your head against his shoulder, not missing that he wasn’t taking his arm off of you as he usually would have. After the movie was over, Makki threw you an inquiring glance to which you only nodded, so he started playing another one. You could tell he was going soft on you today, because his choice was Mulan this time. As the movie continues, your eyes were starting to get droopy, the day finally catching up on you. You didn’t want to tell Makki, but you were seriously exhausted. He could guess though, as you were starting to lean against him more and more heavily, eyes closed, head slowly slipping from his shoulder down to his chest. Leaning his head against the back, he tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, because fuck you were actually falling asleep on him. And you looked damn cute while doing so. He skidded down on the couch a little; making the position you were in a little less straining for your neck. To his uttermost dismay that prompted you to nuzzle your head into his chest a little more while peacefully sleeping.

Violently slapping his free hand to his forehead, he tried not to groan out loud. This was torture. Absolute fucking torture. Forcefully driving his eyes away from your face, he decided that he would just have to sit this one out.

As soon as you wrapped your arm around his middle though, he decided that no, actually he didn’t have to sit this one out. He would have to get you off him this instance or he would snap and do something stupid, which he surely would regret later. He just couldn’t take it anymore. Lifting you a little off his chest, he edged out beneath you, so he could get both his arms under you and carry you to bed. He tried his best to be careful and not shake you too much, but you were briefly waking up nonetheless.

Sleepily you rest your head against his shoulder again before mumbling. “Sorry for falling asleep…guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“s’ okay, keep sleeping.” Hearing the smile in his voice, you smile as well. Then you were put down onto his soft mattress. “Here you go”, he says as he pulls his blanket up to your nose and tugs you in properly. “Good night Y/N.”

That was suspicious. It sounded as if he didn’t want to go to bed as well, or at least not in his own bed.

“Are you not sleeping here?” you voice your thoughts. “I can make myself small. We’ve slept in this bed with three people before…” You were actually sounding disappointed.

There goes his escape plan. He couldn’t blatantly say to your face that he was going to lose his mind if he was so close to you any longer, could he? So he put on a brave face. “Just going to the bathroom. Sleep now, I’ll be right back.”

With that, he turned around and vanished. You knew he’d come back to bed then, he never did break his promises after all, so you got even more comfortable, breathing in the scent of him which was lingering all around you now. It had been a while since you had a sleepover with him. Grinning into the pillow because you were just happy in that moment, you promptly fall asleep again.

Makki on the other hand was standing in front of his bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth and contemplating to just jump off his balcony. That would probably be less painful than lying down next to you without being able to touch you. The fact that you’d seen right through his plan to sleep on the couch even though you were half asleep had him shook. Finally letting out a groan, he spit out and splashes some cold water in his face. For a second he actually contemplated to take a cold shower, he sure as hell needed one, but alas he would need that shower tomorrow morning as well.

Hoping that his body wouldn’t betray him, he made his way back to his bedroom. Upon seeing you already fast asleep again, he let out a relieved sigh. Finally some luck on his side. Carefully climbing in next to you, he turns his back to you at once. He sure as hell wouldn’t fall asleep if he kept staring at your sleeping form in front of him. Not that he was expecting much sleep after all in this situation. You blissfully slept through his struggle, clutching his blanket in your hands and surprisingly Hanamaki had been wrong, too, because he fell asleep rather quickly as well.

The next morning when you were slowly coming to your senses again, the sun was just going up, bathing Hanamakis room in a lovely hue of rose and orange, illuminating the chaos he had not been able to put away before you arrived. And how could he? He probably hadn’t planned on inviting you over.

You realized two things then. One: the blanket was barely even covering you anymore and two: despite that, you were not freezing. In fact, you were very warm and comfortable.

Goose bumps rose on your whole body, as you felt your friends’ breath ghost against you, his nose pressed against your neck. Actually, there was not a spot on your body where he wasn’t touching you at the moment. You were quite literally pressed against him everywhere you could. Or he more likely he was pressed against you, as he was spooning you from behind. His whole body was embracing you. No wonder you weren’t cold despite the blanket lying uselessly next to you, Makki was spreading heat all over your body from behind. Your legs were entangled with his and he had one arm thrown over your side, cradling you against him. The slow rise and fall of his chest against your back tells you he was still fast asleep.

Trying very hard not to freak out, you close your eyes again. Was this the reason he hadn’t wanted to sleep next to you last night? Because he knew, this would happen and he didn’t want to? That has to be it. But you had slept with him in the same bed so often before, why was it a problem suddenly? Maybe he had developed this habit during one of his relationships with his ex-girlfriends? His last relationship hadn’t even been that long ago you remember. Could it be that he still likes her and sleeping in one bed with you reminds him of her, so he didn’t want to? He hadn’t seemed very sad when they had broken off though… Feeling a headache creep up on you, you slightly shift as you put your hand against your temple. Makki moves at that motion as well, nuzzling his nose even more against your neck, arm enclosing you a little firmer as he sighs right against the nape of your neck in his sleep.

Warmth spread all in your body, rising to your cheeks as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart. However, your body didn’t want to calm down yet, stomach doing somersaults and dropping as if you’d miss a few steps on a stair at the same time. Not to mention the butterflies erupting as well. Shit you were so in love with your friend. Overly attentive to his hand resting against your tummy, you had to restrain yourself to just put your hand right over his. He was so warm and soft against you your mind was spinning. Makki starts moving then, his hips pressing into you as he sighs again, trying to get even closer to you than he already was which, of course, was impossible. You could pinpoint the exact moment he woke up, because as he had been soft and warm against you before, he now turned to stone. Closing your eyes, you try to fake being asleep to him, but you were sure your rapidly beating heart was exposing you as his hand was resting awfully close to it after all. So he really was despising this. You wanted to cry. Of course, you couldn’t know what was going on in his head. Which was quite the opposite of despising. Fuck fuck fuck, was all Hanamaki could think as he slowly came to. He knew his body was a goddamn traitor, but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. He was practically glued to you; his goddamn hand was on your stomach, his legs entangled with yours. This was a mess. A disaster even, because he didn’t want to let go of you at all. There was only one way to get out of this with a little dignity…

“Sorry, guess my body decided to get a little warmth from somewhere, because someone was hogging the blanket.” His voice was still a little rough from just waking up and your whole body constricted with want for him upon hearing it. But he was giving you a chance to get out of this without it being too awkward, you should be lucky.

“My bad”, you snicker, “I’m not used to sharing my blanket, unlike someone else.”

He snorts against your neck and pokes your tummy where his hand had rested before, slowly but surely retracting his body from yours. “Mean. I can’t help that women are going crazy for me.”

Yeah, and sadly you were not an exception to that, but he couldn’t know that. That secret would be buried with you someday.

Rolling a safe distance away from you, he stretches and yawns loudly, before watching you as you turn around and face him. Was he imagining things or did you look sad. His heart clenches painfully in his chest. His body was urging him to just crawl closer to you and pull you against him again, this time up front, but he knew that would have been a bad idea. And since his brain was actually active this time, he decided against it, giving you a lopsided smile instead.

“Breakfast?”

“Breakfast!” you respond as you wriggle to the edge of the bed and get up, following your friend to his tiny kitchen. On your way there, you pick up his hoodie, which was still thrown over the couch, because now that his body wasn’t providing warmth for you anymore, you felt awfully cold.

After putting it on, you join Makki in the kitchen. He was facing away from you and you had to physically restrain yourself from just going and hugging him from behind. Rubbing your eyes and massaging your temples a little, you step beside him and help him set up breakfast silently. Then you eat and fall back into your usual cheeky banter and not very serious conversations.

Hanamaki didn’t miss that you’d put on his sweater as soon as you’d stepped out of his bedroom. He didn’t know what to make of it, though. It was only making things hard for him again. How did other men do this? How did they not die immediately when they saw their girlfriends wear their clothes? And why was this affecting him so much. They were only clothes after all. When you got up to freshen up in the bathroom, he clears away everything except for your mug. He knew you’d need another coffee to function, so he poured you one before sitting down on his couch again, putting on his playstation. He figured you could do a lazy day before going to the police station later. Besides, he really wanted to kick your ass in Mario Cart once again. You were always so cute when you got angry because of a game. Hanamaki snickered just by thinking about it. The day flew by after that, as you couldn’t stop battling each other. Every time someone won, the other was pleading for a rematch. So by the time you actually got up to go to the police station it was late afternoon. You switched into your own jeans before going out, but asked if you could keep wearing his shirt and hoodie. Supposedly you had stained your own shirt at the coffee shop yesterday. Makki only smiled and nodded, he knew that was a lie. But if his clothes made you feel more comfortable who was he to judge. Despite his heart exploding at the sight, he found it endearing. Hanamaki could tell you were getting anxious the closer you got to the police station. Were you maybe overreacting and he wasn’t even stalking you? Maybe it had been a coincidence that he had been there after you’d closed down the store…

“Hey, you alright?” Makkis’ voice rips you out of your thoughts. Giving him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes you nod. “Just thinking… you don’t think I’m overreacting right?”

“You’re kidding right? Of course you’re not overreacting. That man has been stalking you for weeks now.” You just stare at your feet then. So you weren’t overreacting. That didn’t make you feel better. Sighing you continue to walk on, Makki right beside you. He could tell you were overthinking this, so he nudged your shoulder to make you look up at him. “I’m here with you, okay.” And then he holds out his hand again, wiggling his eyebrows at you. He was a little sad that this didn’t mean the same to you as it did to him, but if he could hold your hand this way and make you calm down a little, he would endure it. When you reach out and accept the offer, he regards it with a “Good girl.” Laughing, you start swinging your hands slightly, while answering. “What am I Hiro, your dog?”

He only chuckles in return. “Want a treat then?” Your heart skips a beat at that offer. Of course you’d take any treat you could get from him, but you were pretty sure you were thinking of very different things than he was. Trying not to focus on his lips, you stare ahead. “I wouldn’t say no to that hot coco again.”

Then you were finally standing in front of the police station. Anxiously stopping and taking a few quick breaths, Hanamaki detangles your hands, before putting his hands at your shoulders, slightly massaging them while gently pushing you forward.

“C’mon, let’s get this over with. And then I’ll promise, I’ll make you another hot chocolate soon.”

Snorting, you let your friend move you inside. He was right, you thought, I should just get this over with. The police luckily didn’t think you were overreacting and started taking actions for you immediately, so that when you left the station later you actually felt a little relieved. You would have to inform them again when that freak turned up at your job so they could help you for real, but it was a start. Feeling very thankful for Makki, who had guided that conversation whenever he could feel you falter, you reach out on your own this time to take his hand. He looked a little surprised, but to your relief he didn’t pull away. You walked in silence until you reached your home. Hanamaki decided then that he’d make sure you were as safe as you could be, so he got on the elevator with you.

When you were standing in front of your door, you let go of his hand as he stood in front of you. Looking up at him you feel another wave of want rush over you. Following your sudden urge, you get on your tiptoes and pull him into a hug. You could tell he was a little stunned, but after a second he embraces you was well, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Thank you Hiro… I don’t know what I would have done without you the last two days.”

“For you, always. You know that, right?”

Nodding, you lean back and break the hug, because you could tell the time for a normal friends hug was running rather thin.

And then you get bold and stand on your tiptoes again to plant a firm kiss on his cheek, before turning around and vanishing in your flat, leaving your friend standing there with a dumbfounded expression and a deep blush on his face.

Fuck that had been stupid. You shouldn’t have done that. Throwing your bag in a corner you cram for your phone, you needed to talk to someone about the last two days and you knew exactly whom to call for that. Sitting down on your floor, you face call him. Hopefully he was already up. When his tired face flashes on your display you let out a sigh. Thank god.

“Morning Y/n. Calling me rather early, aren’t you?” He was having breakfast, you could tell as he munches on some kind of cereal, coffee in his other hand. He looked tired and exhausted, but you would be as well at barely 7am. You always forgot the huge time difference.

“Yeah sorry about that Tooru. Listen.” You brush your fingers over your hair agitated. “My co-worker said you knew I like Makki. Is that right?”

Oh, he liked that, there was immediately a little mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans a little forward, attention spiked. “Yeah I know about that. Why? Did something happen?” he asks nonchalantly, while sipping on his coffee.

“I slept with Makki.”

As soon as Oikawa started choking on said coffee, you realized that you probably should have phrased that a little differently.

“Oh my god, not like that Tooru.”

“What the hell was I supposed to think if you put it like that!?” he coughs.

“Good point.” You laugh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine, now tell me what happened. And please be precice this time.”

So you give him a quick summary of the last two days and what had happened between you and Hanamaki. Which in retrospect didn’t seem like much, but Oikawas shit eating grin told you otherwise.

“You kissed him?” he asks, while stuffing his face with another spoonful of cereal.

Nodding, you wait for what he was about to tell you. Probably that you were an idiot and just ruined your friendship.

“When was that?”

Well you hadn’t expected that question. Throwing a quick glance at the clock you answer him. “Around 5 minutes ago?”

“Go outside then, if you’re lucky he’s still there.”

Scrunching up your face, you only stare at your phone disbelievingly. “Didn’t you listen to what I just said? That was over 5 minutes ago. He’s long gone.”

“Oh my god Y/n, Makki has had the hots for you for months now, probably longer, if you just kissed him on the cheek out of the blue he was probably blown away. Chances are good he’s still standing in front of your door. Check it at least. If I’m wrong we can continue talking.”

Hanamaki still standing in front of your door? Impossible. And you were going to prove it to him. “You’re insufferable Oikawa, I swear. I don’t even know why I miss you so much sometimes.” You stood up and went for your door, already pushing down the handle. “Also how would you know Makki has the hots for……me” you finish as you open the door and there he was, standing in front of you with a flabbergasted look on his face: Hanamaki.

“He’s there isn’t he?” Oikawas’ smug voice came from your phone, forgotten in your hand as you stared into your friends face. “Good luck then.” And then there was only the sound of a disconnected call. That bastard had just hung up on you.

The seconds dragged as you two stood there, staring each other in the face. Makki couldn’t bear it any longer after a while. “Well…. This is awkward.”

You crack a smile as you still muster his face and step a little bit closer. He seriously had still been standing in front of your door. That was a good sign, right? Maybe Oikawa was right and he really liked you. Maybe you had misinterpreted everything that had happened the last two days and he was really into you. Only one way to find out, right?

“Hiro. Do you like me by any chance?” You could feel your own face heat up at that very direct question.

He sighs in response and ruffles his hair, looking everywhere except you, before he found the courage to look you in the eyes. It was over now, was it not? Except there was a hopeful look in your eyes. That and your hand had unconsciously reached out and clawed at the front of his hoodie. A slow smile spread on his lips. Maybe this wasn’t the end, but the beginning.

“Yes I like you. A lot.” He steps a little closer, eyes not straying from your face, seizing your reaction. “I should have told you sooner.” He takes another step to you and your other hand finds his hoodie as well, clutching it in your hands and tugging on it slightly, your stomach dropping at his confession. He liked you. He liked you, too. And then he completely closes the gap between you as he reaches for your face, tilts it up and finally kisses you. His lips were soft on yours and the kiss was a little clumsy and very short, but you could feel his lips pull into a smile as he breaks it.

“So as I’m not getting punched in the face right now, does that mean you like me, too?”

You can’t help it then, you laugh and rest your forehead against his chest.

“Yes. I like you, too.” Pulling on his hoodie a little again and looking up into his eyes you frown. “Say, how long have you liked me?”

He chuckles at that. “Embarrassingly long. Why?”

You pinch him in the side. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner!? I was slowly dying inside this whole time.” Makki actually flinches at that, before answering: “Well I didn’t know you liked me, too? I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Well you could understand that… it had been the exact reason why you hadn’t told him either.

“C’mon, let’s get inside” you suggest and pull him into your flat. “I think we need to talk.”

“Ugh I don’t want to talk.” He complains, but follows you nonetheless. There were many other things on his mind now that he knew you liked him, too, many of them far more exciting than talking.

Throwing him a glance over your shoulder while you close the door behind him you ask: “What do you want to do then? Don’t you think we sho-“

You were cut short then as he presses you against the door behind you and kisses you again. His hand was cradling your neck as his other found the way around your hip to pull you closer against him. He was a little rougher this time and your hands moved on their own, one going around him for leverage as the other tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, making him groan against your lips, followed by a low mumbled “fuck” against your mouth before crushing his lips on yours again immediately. You get a hold of one of his belt loops and pull him even closer, feeling lightheaded as he graces his tongue over your lower lip before gently nibbling on it. Your knees were getting seriously weak at that point, so you push him away from you, earning an apologizing half smile from him. “Too much? Sorry…”

A little breathless you shake your head and just continue to shove him into your living room before pushing him down on your couch and promptly flopping down on him.

He started smirking then. “Oh? I thought you wanted to talk?”

You punch him in the chest.

“Shut up. We can do that later.” You protest, putting your arms around his neck and lowering your face. “Now do that again.”

Makki only snorts at that, before letting one hand wander to your neck and pulling you in again. “Gladly.”

And then his lips were on yours again, a little firmer, a little more daring, a little more confident.

 Ok Bonus Scene because I’m a sucker for teasing this boy:

Later that night when you were lying on his chest, lips swollen, eyes tired, but entirely happy you snort while thinking of something. “Hiro? You’ll have to be a good boyfriend to me.”

“Mh? Why?” he asks as he nuzzles his nose against your head.

“Because if you’re not, I will tell Mattsun that you got a boner from just kissing me,” you state before snickering devilishly. “And he will never let you forget about it.”

You could feel him laugh under you as well as he hides his face behind his hand, even though you were not looking at him. “I feared you noticed that.”

Grinning, you put your head up a little, letting your eyes roam over his face as he peeked out between his spread fingers. “Well… it only means you really like me right? I’m honored.” Resting your chin on his shoulder again, you murmur: “Also you’re already a perfect boyfriend, so I don’t think you need to be scared.”

“Awww.” He fake coos at your sentiment, but brushes his fingers over your back in gentle circles either way. Suddenly jerking, he sits up a little. “That makes me think of… have I ever told you how my ex-girlfriend broke off with me?”

“Makki are we seriously cuddling for the first time and you want to tell me about your ex-girlfriend?”

“You’re gonna love this” he promises, already laughing, “I believe after she slapped me, her actual wording was ‘Maybe you should date and fuck your friend Y/n since you’re being a better boyfriend to her already than you are to me’.”

You chuckle against his neck. “Seriously?”

Nodding, he rests his head against yours. “Guess she was right, after all. That was actually the time I decided trying to date someone else was pointless…”

“You’re simping Makki.”

“You have no idea.” He presses a kiss against your forehead. “Yesterday evening I was contemplating to jump from the balcony because I thought that would have been less painful than not being able to touch you.”

Grinning broadly, you peck him on his cheek. “You can touch me all you want now. I’m all yours.”

“Yes, you’re mine now.”

A second later you could feel his hands sneakily move under your, or more likely

his shirt that you were still wearing, continuing to caress your skin.

[achillean-affection]

Tommy being drugged up and spilling all his thoughts about you.

Won’t follow the exact plot and lines of the episode, i’m writing this before it escaped my mind and don’t have enough time to rewatch

10k x f!reader

You and Doc had just found Tommy in an insane asylum. It wasn’t confusing why they thought he was crazy, he was muttering about murphy and the past numbers of his kill count.

Doc had taken Elvis to the Z Ward to get the meds while you sat with 10k, his head in your lap as you stroked through his hair. You could only get away with doing this by calling it “affection therapy” since Doc had put you on the spot and called you his assistant and a therapist. It seemed to be working by the way he held your spare hand in his and the way his breath had relaxed back to a normal pace. There was no need to do this because he wasn’t dying, but after being separated for so long and seeing him in such a state you needed the reassurance he was here and safe in your arms, he’s protected you so many time it was time you did your part.

By the time Doc came back Tommy was relaxed and almost lulled to sleep, but the sight of the drugs in Doc’s hands and Elvis pulled him back to reality. He was no longer in a safe haven, a room to yourselves where you could do anything you wanted without the fear of anything, just cuddling, no here he was having to be drugged up, but you were still here, holding him so close that he could hear the same heart beat he would always rest his ear against to reassure himself you were age as long as he was there.

“C’mon kid lets get these in you so we can go.” Doc spoke calmly, it almost made you forget he wasn’t an actual doctor and had, really, no clue what he was doing. Surprisingly 10k didn’t resist at all, you didn’t know if it was because of it being Doc who was giving him it or the fact he had calmed down by quite a lot, but it was working and extremely helpful m, god knows how long it would’ve taken if he was stubborn about it. “Yep, you swallow them just like that kid, you’ll be alright in no time.”

By the amount of drugs he had been given, it was no suprise that he was loopy in no time. He was no longer in pain but he was definitely not thinking straight, basically blurting out any secret he had, it wasn’t like you didn’t already know most of them already, but based on his reaction, Doc didn’t. You didn’t even think he realised you were there, he was simply looking at Doc the whole time talking about a “mysterious pretty girl” he kept thinking about and hallucinating but couldn’t see her face or hear her properly.

You had to cough to get him to notice you, you expected him to atleast recognise you like he had Doc, not do what he did. “Woah, Doc look it’s the pretty girl i was telling you about,” he turned from you to Doc then back to you, then leant onto his hand so his face was even closer to yours than before, but there was still a big space in between. “You’re a lot more beautiful than i imagined you would be, you’re ethical~”

You couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle at his mistake in the word. “I think you mean ethereal, but thank you 10k, nice to know you think i’m pretty and you’re dreaming of me.” He acted like a fan getting noticed by their favourite celebrity, “Doc oh lord she knows my name, Doc what do i do.” It was obvious he was trying to whisper but being so drugged up he didn’t even notice that he was speaking at a normal tone. It was hard to sit there pretending like you couldn’t hear him while he stole glances at you while looking like a lovesick puppy.

He didn’t even give Doc anytime to give a respond before he started spewing thoughts leaning against the wall staring up at you, slowly moving his body closer until his head lay between your knees as you sat cross-legged on the chairs. “You are the perfect girl for me you know, am i allowed to date you? If you’re a therapist are you allowed to date patients, can you make an exception for me pretty please?” Questions and compliments came out his mouth in groups, you wouldn’t be able to answer them properly without him mixing up the answers to the questions, and you couldn’t tell him you weren’t a therapist after he begged you so nicely to date him.

“You look so pretty from down here, and when i was sitting up, just all the time, you’re just so... wow~.” He shifted about from his spot on the floor as he looked up at you with his big puppy eyes like he was looking at you from different angles, admiring you. You couldn’t help but blush as the thought that these are his normal thoughts, meaning he thinks of this all the time, it was just cause he was drugged up.

“Let’s get moving love birds, no flirting with your therapist kid.” Doc has ushered us out the room for excercise, which was really only going to be Tommy attempting to do it in his state while Doc and I stabilised him and made our great escape with him. Although it was a bit difficult with the way he was holding on to your ass instead of your hand or wrist or any other appropriate part of your body. “Am I allowed to fuck you? but i’m a virgin....” He trailed off like it was a deciding factor and like he hadn’t already done it before with you.

“You already have before but you can’t now because we need to get you out of here.” Tommy let out a sound that you hoped was joy as he sped up to rest his head on your shoulder. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve very seen~ who are you?” Apparently the drugs had messed up all his memories of you, leaving just his thoughts and blurred images.

“I’m your girlfriend Tommy, we’ve been dating for a long time~” You chuckled and then there was a gap of silence before he leant back onto Doc dramatically like you had just killed him, but the information you just gave him probably did. “Doc! Why didn’t you tell me I was dating the pretty lady? I’m the luckiest man alive..” 10k was definitely being dramatic but it was one of the cutest things you’ve seen and cheered you up after being separated for so long.

“Okay let’s go lovebirds, I don’t mind hearing all the cute, romantic stuff it reminds me of my past wives, but I don’t want to hear about what you want to do to her.” Doc and you rushed forwards, basically dragging Thomas around the halls into the gymnasium.

[peaches-writes]

full circle

description: even if you’ve only known him for eight years, if you think about it, you’ve actually been with minho for most of his entire life. member: minho / lee know genre: fluff, historical au, vampire au, time traveler au, college au, neighbour au, best friends to lovers au, fem reader, this is a longer and revised version of reliable source word count: 10k warnings: explicit language, mentions of animal murder, war, death, blood, alcohol note: yay a third entry to the seven hundred and one universe! oc from seven hundred and one universe is named shiyeon here while the oc from kart rider is named soojung! + this prolly has a lot of plot holes & is just generally mediocre but whatever it’s fiction lmao + @skzwriternet​

present: February 13, 2020

Even before he saw you on the other side of his apartment door at 9 PM with all of your work materials and equipment, Minho already knew full well that this day was coming. He’s always known most days are coming. He‘s just more excited for this in particular than the rest, given its inevitability that he‘s lived through for almost 600 years of his total 900 years as a vampire. Tonight, as evidenced by the Google Docs displayed on your open laptop, is the night you’d travel to the past for your doctorate thesis and meet his past self for the first time. 

He just didn’t expect this in particular to be on the day right before Valentine’s Day, when he and his two other housemates have decided to make a complete mess out of the kitchen with all of the chocolate they’ve been trying to make.

“Hi, sorry for bothering you at this hour but I was thinking—ew, what’s that smell?” You instinctively and bluntly ask first, sniffing the air escaping his side of the door. Minho could smell it too, strongly at that, and the older vampire could only purse his lips and widen his eyes at you. “Are you guys—please don’t tell me you’re actually cooking humans this ti—“

At that, he immediately shakes his head and breaks out into a nervous laugh, pulling the door closer to his body and effectively hiding Jisung scrambling around for the exhaust (and maybe the fire extinguisher too, for some reason) before you could peer over his shoulder. “No, no! It’s just Jisung and Jeongin—well, it’s mostly Jeongin then he dragged Jisung in on it—they’re making Valentine’s Day chocolates for...some people.”

You could sense the slight bluff in his tone (supported further by the little heart-shaped candy on his cheek) and that at least one of those ‘some people’ he could possibly be referring to is one of your friends, Nari, whom Jeongin has not-so-discreetly been pining over since your second year of college, but you easily let it slide. In the eight years you’ve known the vampires who live and own your apartment complex, after all, you’ve definitely walked in on much wilder things than a couple of questionably burnt chocolates (chocolates aren’t even cooked, as far as you’re concerned!). “Um, okay, sure, I’ll trust you with that.” You squint your eyes at him. “Anyway, can I come in? I need your help with something.” 

Minho exhales a small sigh of relief which he turns into a smile for you before looking over his shoulder once to make sure that the coast is clear then opening the door wide once again. “Yeah, come on in.” He concludes next, picking up your backpack on the floor and your heavy laptop in your hands as you cross the threshold. “But it’s really messy in the common area right now so we’ll have to stay in my room, if that’s okay with you.” 

You’ve never been in his room, not even when you first became friends in your first year of college eight years ago or on game nights when he always asks for help taking out his Play Station sets. All of Jisung and Jeongin’s jokes of his serial killer tendencies when you’re not around could be true for all you know and it’s the only thing going through your head as you wordlessly follow him inside his apartment, pondering on the thought.

In response, Minho bites down a laugh between his teeth next to you as he accidentally reads your thoughts and when you catch him in the act, you make sure to elbow him with your freer arm, careful of your drafts binder. “Ya, stop reading my thoughts without permission, you asshole!” You scold him in a sharp hiss right as you pass Jisung and Jeongin in the open doorway leading to the kitchen. You greet the two courteously and even make a salute to the fallen chocolates, to which Minho laughs even more at and the two boys groan in protest. “Well, shit, it really is...bad.”

“I know, poor people who’ll get that tomorrow.” Minho shrugs.

“You could say Nari, it’s fine, I won’t tell.” You shrug back with a laugh, taking this time to take the candy off of his cheek and walking past him and the other two boys with a parting wave before Jeongin could even process that you caught up to him and his crush so easily.

Minho, meanwhile, clears his throat awkwardly and follows you, in a poor attempt to hide his immediate flustered expression. Some of the chocolates were actually for you but he won’t tell you that too, of course.

Especially not when you arrive in his room not long after, nodding in approval at its cleanliness that clearly contrasts the current state of his kitchen and, by a slight extension, living room. “Glad you to know you don’t murder people in your room, Min. See? We get closer as friends would every day.”

“I’ve been on blood bag and animal diet since we met, you brat. Don’t tease like that.” Minho rolls his eyes, prompting you to laugh.

“So, where do I work, then?” You ask after, turning to Minho on your side and accidentally brushing your shoulders together.

He gestures to his work table in response, naturally placing his other hand on your back and guiding you towards it. He really hopes you’d be oblivious to the way he’s growing more flustered this time. He doesn’t let you in his room for a reason, after all (that being it’s too intimate in his opinion). “You can use my desk.” He instructs you after, following you and pulling an extra chair for himself once you’ve reached his desk. Placing your backpack next to his work bag then your laptop on top of the table, he then asks, “So, are you travelling now or later?”

He already knew you’d do it sometime now, he really just wanted to ask to keep the conversation going. He even has your hanbok ready—bought from Changbin’s wife’s shop last month.

But, to you, he seems to have miscalculated the situation a little bit as a realization dawns on you while you’re taking out the portable time travel machine from your backpack. It’s actually just a watch but your professors insist on keeping them in really fancy boxes. “I can do it now if it’s oka—wait, I haven’t even told you that part yet! How do you know I’m not just going to hoard your wi-fi?” You exclaim mid-thought, your mouth falling agape and forming an ‘o’ shape in surprise. You know he wasn’t reading your mind just now because, usually, Minho would announce his presence obnoxiously loud in your head or make the face he did a while back but he didn’t this time. “So you’re going to agree to my request? Is that it?”

Eyes equally wide in his mistake, Minho falls back in his chair and ends up fumbling around with his words. “Well—no, I mean, you always only need my help when you’re about to time travel so—!” He tries his best to cover up which only elicits a victorious smile from you. “Ugh, fine, you got me!”

“So, you’ll help me? I mean, past you, technically.” You ask again for confirmation, sitting down on your own chair this time as you fully take out the portable machine and place it on your lap. “I have to tell you, though, that I need to travel to three other periods for my thesis this time. Is that okay?” 

Minho props his elbow on the arm rest and nods against his knuckles. “You already know the answer to that, I think.” 

You chuckle at this. If eight years of knowing him has taught you anything, it’s to pay attention to the smallest details. He’s clairvoyant, after all, and you need to up him at his own game every now and then somehow. “Then, I’ll also need the proper attire. Haseul said that she can’t take in commissions at the moment so I couldn’t—“

“In the closet, furthest right.” Minho gestures to the walk-in closet behind him in defeat. “You can use that for all the times you’ll go, too.” 

“Have I told you that you’re my bestest friend in the world today? Even more than Nari, and she’s a witch, might I add!” You dramatically announce with a grin, handing him the machine’s box before standing up and making a beeline to the double doors on the other side of his bed. When you follow his instructions and find a pink and blue hanbok along with a floral hairpin on the very end of his closet, you then take it out and head to the open bathroom across the room. “Oh, wow, you even got my size right! You must’ve been preparing for this for a long time, huh?”

He really has—but, again, Minho is too stubborn to admit it to your face. “Just tell me if it’s uncomfortable or something.” He simply replies to you instead before you could close the door and change. Once he hears you acknowledge him with a hum before clicking the door to a lock, he then quickly prepares the time travel watch for you (by the way he remembers you doing it in front of him countless of times while you were cramming for a school requirement with him) then places it next to your laptop in exchange for his phone to message the rest of his friends.

minho [9:13 PM]: its happening

chan [9:14 PM]: you’re confessing?

hyunjin [9:14 PM]: hey that’s great! good for you hyung!!!

minho [9:16 PM]: no! y/n’s making the travel to 1388!

changbin [9:18 PM]: chan u know not to get ur hopes up w minho alr we all know he’s hopeless

minho [9:21 PM]: just bc ur alr married u brat

Changbin was still typing out a reply in the groupchat when you came out of the bathroom in your hanbok, laughing behind your hand when Minho looks up and momentarily gapes at you. “Why are you looking at me like that, weirdo?” You furrow your brows as you approach, smacking his arm before sitting down on his bed right behind him with a slight struggle. Peering over his shoulder, you smile appreciatively at noticing the time machine already set up. “And I see you’ve set up the machine without breaking anything this time! Progress!”

Minho scoffs, swiveling his wheeled chair to face you properly before gesturing to the hairpin in your hands. “You don’t like the hairpin?”

"I don’t know why you’re making me wear a hairpin that looks like a wedding heirloom.” You frown. Not to mention, from it’s material, you could tell that it’s new as well, meaning it was designed this way on purpose. “Won’t it attract too much attention?” 

Minho doesn’t know why you eventually came to him in the past wearing the hairpin too. He thought his future self was being ridiculous then (and he still does in the moment). “I don’t know, either,” He tells you truthfully this time, standing up from his chair to place it on your tightly-made bun. “But you did come wearing it eventually so just go with the flow, I guess? I don’t know, what do your sci-fi movies say?” 

You scoff at him, puffing out the heat rising up to your cheeks at the proximity. He could read your mind if he wants to but he doesn’t seem to be in the moment, even when his lips are gently fanning air into your ear as he fixes the hairpin with utmost care. “I guess I’ll just have to follow your instincts, then.” You sigh in defeat. “I can’t miss a detail, even if it’s weird.” 

“Right. I was there in the moment before you right now.” He smiles cheekily before sitting back down on his chair, passing you your time travel box after. “Ready to go?” 

You nod, fixing your collar one last time before receiving the machine from his hands. “You haven’t met me in the 1388, right?” 

“The first time you met me in the past was in the 1910s for that graduate thesis of yours and the oldest version of me that you’ve met so far was the one from the the 1740s.” Minho corrects, recalling your fourth year thesis some eight years ago. “But the first time I met you in my history was for this doctorate.” 

Your eyes light up at this. “Really? You’re meeting me for the first time now?” 

“Yeah. Why?” 

“We’ll have differing first impressions after this!” You point out to which he snickers. “Also, I haven’t met this version of you, you might be a snob in 1388 and think I’m weird or something.” 

Minho personally doesn’t think his first impression of you will ever change, no matter when you’ll meet in time. He’ll always think positively of you. “I was already turned for a long time, then. I haven’t met Chan and the others but I’ve seen and heard of weirder things than a time traveler.” He assures you. “Now, go, so I can help Jisung and Jeongin in the kitchen.” 

Rolling your eyes, you then set the date to January 1388 (you notice Minho’s already set the location while you were in the bathroom) before bidding a temporary goodbye to him, disappearing into thin air with the watch on your wrist right after. “I’ll be back before you know it!” 

In the blink of an eye, you’re already in a flea market somewhere in Seoul (then named Hanseong, you made sure to remember that well out of all of your history and anthropology notes). 

past: January 1388

You easily find 1388 Minho wandering around the flea market, a crowd of court men and women following him religiously as he examines the crops, livestock, and flowers being sold in stalls. The sight makes you scoff in disbelief, even more when you approach and see how he ignores each and every one of them up close. 

You know Minho isn’t the one of royal blood in his current coven of vampires (that’s Hyunjin—you know it well from the amount of times you’ve pestered him in your other time travels while he was sulking over his present day fiancée) but he has mentioned in passing once about being popular in the palace court, a socialite of his time if you will. 

But then, who could blame him? He’s just that handsome and charming.  

“Minho...Lee Minho...” You try calling for him in the crowd but to no avail, the slight embarrassment of following the crowd creeping up to you. It reminds you a bit of when you first saw him in your timeline, your first year of college and his fourth year (because Chan keeps insisting that he goes to university every now and then to pass the time) when all kinds of students would also follow him around at the campus library. It’s annoying, regardless of wherever you are in the world timeline. “Excuse me, Lee Minho!” 

He only turns to you when you raise your voice, an eyebrow momentarily raised until your eyes meet and a look seemingly of recognition crosses his features. 

You became friends with him as an older vampire but why is he more intimidating as a younger one? It’s probably the rest of the crowd’s eyes being on you because of your sudden interruption. Either way, you forcibly gulp down your nervousness and call for him again. “Lee Minho?” 

“Yes?” 

“C-Can I—Can I talk to you for a moment?” You gesture for him to follow you, his piercing gaze making your hands shake a bit. This is probably what Chan meant when he said Minho was a bit scary when he first met him in the 1400s. 

Minho follows you, anyway, which alleviates and heightens your nervousness at the same time. The crowd would’ve followed if not for him glaring at them not to right before you turned to the main entrance of the flea market where a few people were loitering around at. He feels like he knows you from somewhere which, if you knew about, you’d tell him that that’s impossible since, chronologically, you haven’t met him before this. 

Once you’re away from the majority of the market crowd, only then do you turn to properly face him and his expectant eyes. He’s still looks the same as he does in the present, just more curious, seeing as you’re a stranger for now. It’s comforting, somehow, so much so that it relaxes you and eventually makes you laugh as well. 

“What’s so funny?” He asks you without any hint of malice once you uncontrollably burst into giggles, prompting you to lift your hand up to your mouth. Already developing his clairvoyant abilities at this time period, he could easily tell by the unfamiliar terms in your thoughts and the way you hold yourself up that you were different—far more different than everyone around you. “And who are you?” 

You wave your other hand dismissively, taking a step back to recuperate. You end up giggling a few more times before you could manage to take a deep breath and exhale slowly by turning your eyes away from Minho momentarily. “I’m sorry, I’m Y/N and I—sorry! It’s just so...it’s a bit weird!” 

“Definitely.” Though your answer is unsatisfactory, the boy nods anyway. “And how do you know my name?”  

“I know you from the futur—wait, you can tell that it’s a bit weird too?” You raise an eyebrow and fold your arms over your chest. “It’s…sometime in the 1300s—“

“Thirteen eighty-eight.”

“Right.” You nodded at his correction with a dry scoff, piquing his interest further. “It’s only 1388 and you’re already this good of a clairvoyant?”

Minho was instinctively taken aback with you. His present self forgot to tell you that clairvoyance doesn’t have an established name in this time yet. “How did you—? What? Huh, well…the hanbok—the hanbok’s a bit of a giveaway too, I guess. It looks different from what the court women usually wear.” 

You then briefly glanced down at your hanbok, a pout resting on your features when you look back up at Minho again. “Really? But you—I mean, my source told me that this was accurate.” Come to think of it, you didn’t really check the attire thoroughly since you really needed to travel immediately to cram your paper. You’ll have to give 2020 Minho an earful about this later. “Ah, guess it’s my fault for not double-checking. I was in a bit of a rush to come here.” 

Minho from 1388, however, shakes his head at you in disapproval then briefly begins pointing out the different design patterns that looked foreign to him. “And this hairpin,” He pointed your hair accessory last, from what you can remember at present. There’s an unreadable expression in his face, one you’re too flustered to interpret as amusement. “This looks like a wedding heirloom but…a bit futuristic for my time, if that makes sense. I don’t suppose you wanted to come here disguised as someone’s wife, right? That’d attract more attention to you.”

And with that, you almost immediately deflate right in front of him with a defeated sigh and he smirks teasingly in return. To the passersby at the flea market, people could’ve easily mistaken the two of you for a quarreling married couple. “So that’s how it is.” You surrender easily, your arms loosening. “I guess even at this time you’re clairvoyant and smart. How annoying.”

His smirk grows even more triumphantly at this. “So, why did you come here?” He asks next. He figures out halfway through your rambles that it’s probably better to go along with you than to insist on his own questions, at least until you’ve organized your thoughts a little bit better. 

You ponder on the question for a moment, shifting your weight between the balls of your feet to pass the time. When you do answer, you explain, “Well, it’s a little crazy but my source has said that you’ll be okay with it so...believe it or not, I’m from the future and doing my doctorate thesis on a dynasty that’s about to establish itself around this time.” When 1388 Minho doesn’t immediately and visibly freak out as he would on your worst case scenario, you take this as your cue to continue. “You’re still alive in my time but I can’t tell you what our relationship is or it’ll be spoilers! All I can say is that you’ve helped me passed a lot of my major requirements in school and if you’re okay with it, you can help me with this one too!” 

The Minho in front of you thinks that you probably know him very well to know that he’s not easily spooked with anything out of the ordinary, not even by someone who claims to be from the future and is doing an academic paper about the past. You did mention knowing his personal history, as well, which effectively gained you his trust. He just hopes you’re not married or something in the future as the hairpin seems to be trying to imply or else he’d consider this first meeting of yours a bit chaotic for his liking. “Sure. Where do you have to be right now?” 

Really? It’s that easy? Is all you can think about, much to Minho’s curiosity when he reads your thoughts. “O-Oh, well, um...if you can take me to the palace courts, that would be...cool, I mean nice.” 

And so, Minho from 1388 ends up showing you around the palace courts for the next six months that follows (but, really, it’s just merely six minutes in the present time), even introducing you to people whom you ended up entrusting with your data-gathering. You almost mentioned Hyunjin and his fiancé, Shiyeon, on more than one occasion, remembering how the vampire would be with Seungmin already by this time while the immortal witch would be travelling around Korea, but opted not to instead when you also remember that no one from this time period really liked talking about the previous fire that killed most of Hyunjin’s family. 

Besides, you didn’t want to mess up the timeline and have Minho meet Hyunjin before he could meet Chan, even when he would ask you about it right before you left. 

“How am I in the future, by the way? Am I allowed to ask that?” Minho asks you curiously as you hold out your watch in front of him. It was starting to get annoying, having to hide it in your bell sleeves all the time. “And what am I doing by then?” 

“I can’t say anything specific that’s important.” You scrunch up your nose disapprovingly to which Minho only glares at you in response. “Just trust me, you’re sort of happy with where you are in my present day. You don’t have to worry about it now, it’s still 600 years away, anyway.” 

Minho mistakenly interprets that as the two of you being married in the future. He doesn’t have feelings for you in this time period but he takes your word not to worry about it until it’s happened. 

Besides, you seem kind. He’ll see something in you eventually. 

“When will I see you again, then?” 

“Um...around 1418, probably?” You answer with a hint of uncertainty as you faintly recall your thesis’ outline. You needed to see King Sejeong’s court next. “You’ll still be here, right?” 

Minho initially had plans on moving to a nearby province but he nods, anyway, thinking that that could wait for a few more years. “Yeah.” 

And with that, you’re gone again. 

present: February 13, 2020 

When you get back to the present day, it’s only 9:35 PM, almost six minutes since you left, but Minho’s already in the kitchen, helping Jisung and Jeongin clean up their mess. 

“Back already?” Minho asks with a blood bag between his teeth when he catches sight of you by the open doorway as he wipes the kitchen island clean, immediately noticing the grin you wear on your face. “What did you think?” 

“You were much chiller then!” You exclaim, ducking past Jeongin and Jisung to sit down right across Minho on the countertop. “I mean, you were a bit scary at first with the whole glaring thing you got going on but you were very calm and collected, then, like you weren’t even phased about me being from the future!” 

Of course he would be at that time, he was literally there when it happened (and also because he’s always had a feeling even from before that you’d meet but that’s also on his long list of things he won’t tell you). Instead, you see him quirk an eyebrow, throwing the rag towel in his hand to the side to pick up his phone and resume his Kart Rider. “Weirdoes vibe with weirdoes, I guess.” He shrugs, chuckling when you protest at this. “Anyway, you got what you need, right?”

You nod happily with a hum, propping an elbow up on the now clean counter and resting your cheek on your palm. “I have enough to write about later when you’re done cleaning.” 

“Ya, Y/N, if you’re gonna stick around at least help us clean the kitchen!” Jisung complains as he drags a wet mop across the floor behind you. 

“And why would I do that? I didn’t even help you make the chocolates!” 

“Because Minho’s been making cho—” Before Jisung could finish his sentence, however, Minho throws his rag towel towards the younger vampire, aiming it directly to his face. “Ya!” 

You shake your head in disbelief, turning to Minho again after. “Anyway, I have to fix my notes for a bit and you need to tell me where else I went for this paper!” 

Also because you were kinda cute back then, you think to yourself more as an after-thought, not really expecting for Minho to accidentally hear it.   

Now, Minho knows why he made you wear the hairpin. Is it normal to be jealous of one’s past self? 

present: February 16, 2020 

Minho offers you a whole bag of your favorite mini Toblerones the next time that you knock on his door to work on your thesis. The Valentine’s Day homemade chocolates were a fail even when Felix was eventually brought in last-minute (then you just had to disappear for a whole day with Nari and Shiyeon, too), so he rushed to the nearest convenience store to buy you the Toblerones as soon as you told him that you’ll come over again to pester him with his Internet connection and ask him more about your work. 

Maybe this is really it, the one you were talking about in his past. 

“You’re being nice to me with all this chocolate.” You squint your eyes with a piece of the chocolate in between your teeth suspiciously across the dining table as you work, head buried in papers to revise and dusty reference books. Your professor has you on travel limit as everyone else, only allowing you up to four actual visits to the past, hence the mountainous stacks of library books and journals you’ve borrowed from both the campus library and Changbin’s personal collection. “What do you need? Ya, I’m talking to you.” 

Minho, busy in his own academic work on his laptop, only peeks up at you belatedly when he’s reaching out for his blood bag buried underneath all of your papers. “What?” 

“What are the chocolates for?” You ask straightforwardly this time, picking up another mini Toblerone off the yellow bag. “Last time you bought me something from the convenience store was when you ate the squirrel I was feeding in the back garden.” 

Minho only shrugs as nonchalantly as he could, though he can’t help but feel a little flustered as evidenced by the way his eyes briefly widen. The squirrel incident was a long time ago and yet you still won’t let it go. “Can’t I be nice?” He simply asks back in answer to which you scoff at. He laughs along with you, anyway. “Jeongin bought it then gave me the extra, probably to give to you since I can’t really eat it.” 

You wanted to tell him that Nari actually shared the chocolates Jeongin gave her and they were definitely not Toblerones but you let it slide again. For some reason, it’s funny seeing Minho try to cover up something right in front of your face and thinking that he’s doing a good job at it. He’s trained you to see past his bullshit for the past 8 years, he should really know better. “Um...right.” You nod teasingly. “I’m gonna pretend you’re not looking very suspicious right now.” 

Minho could clearly tell that you’re doubting him even without reading you but he does nothing more to it. He’s too deep in his bullshit already and you both know that. 

Truth is, he was just fulfilling something you mentioned in your second visit to him (and probably as a way to give you something on Valentine’s Day even if it’s two days late). 

“Anyway, when are you making the travel again?” 

“Right after I finish summarizing this book.” 

And it happens to come full circle today, too. What luck does your best friend have. 

past: August 1418 

You jump between days in a span of six years this time (which is approximately an hour and twelve minutes back in the present time) with the help of Minho, Chan, and Changbin from 1418 helping you by preparing an entire closet of clothes and coming up with a very detailed background story of how you were a distant relative of Chan’s from the province in the case that someone asked about you. The other two boys were more than happy to welcome you despite how foreign time travel was to them in this time period because, apparently, you’re all Minho’s ever talked about since they met. 

“It’s nice knowing that Minho didn’t fever dreamed you up or something.” Changbin joked to you once towards the end of the six years of your data-gathering, to which he received a full apple shoved in his mouth from Minho. In this time period, his wife, Haseul, was still in that sleeping curse you still don’t understand fully at present, carefully laid in a tomb somewhere in the capital. Fortunately, you managed to avoid telling him that she wakes up seven centuries later (and that they get married) throughout your entire stay and avoided spoilers. “Vampires who’ve lived long like us tend to do that sometimes. Heck, even Chan does that lots of times these days, telling us about this immortal person he’s been looking for a while now. I guess it’s the human brain’s natural response to having a lot of memories.” 

“Minho remembers me just fine in the present, though.” You shrug as you re-write your interview notes, to which Minho mumbles a ‘Really?’ at. When you nod at him, he immediately rolls his eyes up in thought. You want to tell them that the person Chan’s been looking for at this time’s also real (and that he and said person, Eunhye, even live together now), too, but you decide against it later on for spoiler reasons again. “You have really good memory in the present, you even bought me Toblerones today.” 

“What are those?” 

A realization dawns on you right there and then, a small smile forming on your lips to which Minho quirks an eyebrow at and Changbin immediately asks you about. “You’ll find out soon enough. Just know that they’re my favorite.” You simply answer, standing up from the front porch of the inn you’ve been staying at and dusting the dirt off of your new hanbok. You remind yourself to ask Minho and Changbin about where these are at present later on. “Anyway, I’m off! I need to interview a few court people then I’ll be off your hairs again soon!” 

When it’s time for you to leave again, Minho’s still pestering you about what Toblerones are. 

“Come on, tell me!” He protests, going as far as holding your wrist where your watch is before you could escape. “Y/N!” 

You only grin up at him mischievously, gently swatting his hand away. “February 16, 2020! Also, make me ramen and coffee when I get back to the other side, please! I’d really like that!” 

present: February 16, 2020 

A steaming bowl of ramen and a warm cup of miraculously decently-brewed coffee are on the kitchen countertop by the time you come back, just as you asked him six hundred years in the past. What you didn’t expect, however, was the way your notes and references have also been organized neatly on the table while you were away and Minho dozing off on the nearby sofa in the open living room (he really likes genuine sleep lately which you’re yet to ask him as to why). You make sure to check that he really is sleeping by pinching his nose (and getting no response which is his usual indication of actual sleep) before placing the blanket he has reserved for you in his apartment over his hunched over body. 

“You don’t really need it,” You whisper tiredly, tucking the blanket close to his neck. His skin is naturally cold, as any normal vampire’s, but you’ve slowly grown accustomed to it over the years. “but how else am I going to say thank you for remembering my request after six hundred years? You’re going above and beyond anyone I’ve ever met, Lee Minho, you should stop raising the bar too high for men like this.” 

three

past: May 1592

“Are you sure you want to be here?” Minho from 1592 asks you right after you’ve reappeared in his house. Chan is out for work and Changbin is visiting Haseul on this particular day, leaving him to tend to their main house alone. “We’re in the middle of—”

“A Japanese invasion, I know.” You finish his thought for him, casually plopping down on the front porch right next to him and gingerly receiving the cup of tea he offers you. The garden he’s been trying to tend the last time you were around hasn’t made any significant progress even when an entire century has passed. You want to think it’s because the boys have been travelling elsewhere right before you returned but you also know it’s because they haven’t met Seungmin and Hyunjin yet. Those two are still probably travelling with Shiyeon. “That’s exactly why I’m here.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re—” Minho leans away and gazes back incredulously at you. He can already tell, with his own abilities, that you’re not thinking of what he’s thinking but he asks anyway to fully confirm. “I’m not letting you go to the frontlines if that’s what you’re going to ask me this time.” 

You chuckle at his genuinely mortified expression as you sip on your tea, making the boy furrow his brows at you. You really must be crazy. “You already know I’m not thinking of that! Though, I will ask you crazier things in the distant future.” You assure him. “I’ll only be staying for a year, six years again at most since I only need to complete a few interviews and fact-check a few books.” 

“Good.” Minho sighs in relief, taking a long sip of his tea as well. Even in 1592, the only human beverage Minho could stand is tea, you’re quick to notice. “That’s...that’s a relief.” 

“Why would you even be worried about going to the field, you’re immorta—ya, perhaps, do you you care about me?” You tease, grinning widely at the sudden realization. “We have a really messed-up timeline but you already care about me as early as now, that’s cute!”   

Minho from this time period could only roll his eyes at you against his sudden flustered feeling. If he was curious of your relationship with his future self when you first met, he’s curious as to how his future self keeps up with you this time. “Because you might be important to me in the future or something.” He bluffs to which you only chuckle fondly at. “I can’t really tell since you won’t tell me exactly how I know you in the future.” 

“Well, what am I to you now?” 

“A friend.” And he means it truthfully.

You’re momentarily taken aback, Minho sees even when you’re quick to hide it. Present Minho won’t even call you his best friend like you do to him. “Then just—just remember that until then.” You point out, smiling when you gaze over to his side and see his sincere expression. Something leaps in your chest at hearing him say those words without his usual playful tone of voice. It’s not what you’ve always been hoping for but it’s a start. “Won’t it be better if you just find out in the moment when it does happen?” 

Minho wants to tell you that he can’t wait but his teasing nature always gets the best of him first, “Hm, maybe you don’t actually know me at all in the future, that’s why you’re always being vague when I ask you.” 

You scoff, smacking his arm. “Ya!” 

“So, really, what are you to me in the future?” He insists anyway, swiftly dodging your hits until he’s caught your wrist in his hands. “Friend? Best friend?” 

A lover? He wanted to add further but he bites his tongue back just in time.  

“I always call you my best friend but I’ve yet to hear the same thing from you so, honestly, how would I know when you’re so secretive with your true feelings all the time! I’m even surprised you answered my question just now.” You frown, unintentionally coming off as bitter in your tone of voice as you retract your hand back to your side. You place your cup down as well, careful of the remaining tea so it doesn’t accidentally spill on your hanbok. At this moment, you miss the way Minho’s expression turns into confusion. “If it helps, though, I can only tell you that you always let me in your house to hoard the wi-fi—which you don’t have to know about right now!—and you’ve kept me around long enough to know when you’re trying to lie to me or read my thoughts with your clairvoyance thing going on.” 

Minho nods along, humming in thought. “So you’re a parasite?” 

You inhale a deep breath, focusing all of your energy into restraining yourself from hitting him for a second time. “You’ve called me worse.” You sigh with a controlled laugh. “Expired dinner and ex-wife who has nowhere else to go are my personal favorites.” 

Next to you, Minho’s eyes genuinely widen in curiosity. “We got married?” 

“Um, no? No, no, it’s an expression!” You shake your head and snicker despite the contrasting heat on your neck. Minho grows flustered at sensing the blood rushing up to your face. “I don’t even know if you’re capable of romantic love, dude. You’re always kinda everywhere and nowhere.” 

Minho’s not offended, though, especially not when you try to apologize after at realizing that you’re not as close with this version of him as you are with the version you know in your own time. “It’s fine.” He assures you with a shrug, knowing full well that you were just kidding around. “I’m guessing with that that I’m still single five centuries later.” 

“That and a bit of a flirt, too.” You clarify before his words fully process in your head. “Wait, so that means you haven’t dated even before this?” 

Minho shakes his head. “No, no one’s caught my eye yet.” 

You purse your lips in thought of this new revelation. It’s in moments like this, when you’re meeting past selves of your immortal friends that you realize just how little you actually know of them. “Huh, I didn’t peg you as the type.” 

“The type to what?” 

You shrug slowly, hunching over in your seat. “To be the fall in love just once type? I don’t know...”

Chan has mentioned to you once about Minho believing in soulmates but you were quick to dismiss that then. Remembering that now, maybe he is right. 

And, as if he has been reading your thoughts this entire time, Minho agrees with a nod. “Then, now you know. If you’ve lived as long as I have, soulmates are really nice to think about.” 

“But you always tease me about it...you from the future at least.” You pout. “Again, no offense, it’s just that—from the way I know you in my time, you’re very confusing.” 

When you glance over at Minho, you see him sit up straighter and lean closer to you again, your shoulders bumping against his as he tilts his head to meet your gaze. “Really? How am I confusing? Maybe I can help.” 

You scrunch up your nose. “Ah, but that’s unfair. You’ll take note of this in the future again.” 

“Your time’s five hundred years away, I’m sure I’ll forget this with time.” He assures you to no avail as evidenced by your squinted eyes. 

“You remembered my ramen and coffee request from last time, though.” You argue back, making his eyes light up. 

“I will?” 

You nod, placing a finger on his forehead and pushing his face away from yours. “Yeah, so I don’t trust you. Let’s just leave it at that.” 

Minho doesn’t bother you anymore about it for the rest of your one-year stay, which you’re more than grateful for.

present: February 22, 2020 

He does, however, teases you about it again when you’re back to the present. Closing in on you in one of his bone-crushing hugs when you reappear in his room, he asks, “So, how was meeting me in the 1500s this time, best friend?”

“Excuse me, what did you say?” You furrow your brows at him, your arms going limp on your sides while your entire body freezes on the spot. 

“I just called you my best friend.” He repeats casually with a shrug. “Why?” 

Minho purposely omits the fact that he double-checked his old journals to make sure that you just time traveled to that period when you mentioned to him how he’s never called you his best friend. He’s been waiting for this opportunity to set it right with you since he didn’t know much of the context back then. 

You shake your head in response, reluctantly hugging him back once you’ve regained feeling in your arms again. “Nothing, it’s just...” 

“Dude, you’re acting like past me and present me are different people.” He chuckles against your hair, squeezing your frame once before pulling away. “So, we’re good, right? You’re not bitter about the whole best friend thing now?” 

You frown, slapping his elbow to which he only chuckles at. “Who said I was bitter?” 

“You did in 1592!” He teases, his mischievous grin softening into a fond smile after. “But seriously...sorry about that. I just think it’s cheesy to say most of the time but you really are...my best friend now I guess—maybe until you die in 50 years.”

Minho then runs away before you could even protest, prompting you to chase him out of his room and into the hallway. “Ya, Lee Minho! I’m going to kill you first, you brat!”  

But you know that deep in your heart that he’s only joking (and also because Jeongin has gossiped to you once about accidentally reading one of Minho’s journal entries from the 1700s once about meeting someone who shares your name but was already working as a professor in university and may or may not already be a vampire). 

present: February 29, 2020

“Okay, to refresh...” You mumble as you adjust the watch on your wrist and the switchblade Minho insisted on you keeping in your pants’ pockets. Next to you, said vampire’s is sprawled on his bed, a reviewer and highlighter in hand. “In 1895, Hyunjin was following Shiyeon around the world, Seungmin was starting out his photography career, Soojung was taking a beauty nap, Haseul was still sleeping, Changbin was going on a Jack the Killer rampage somewhere in Europe, Jisung was still a newborn, Felix, and Jeongin haven’t joined you yet, and Chan was...learning yoga with Eunhye? Is that right?” 

“And I’ve met all versions of you by this time.” Minho adds in absentmindedly before going back to chanting his notes over and over again. He really doesn’t need to since he really has sharp memory these days but you let him study for whatever it is he’s studying, anyway, so he has something else to do besides Kart Rider and annoying his other friends. “Just tell past me who I’m meeting when you arrive since you know how I kept mixing graduate studies you and college thesis you up all the time.” 

“That’s...you guys have lived lives.” You puff out a tired breath, making Minho glance up to you briefly and chuckle. “Sometimes, it makes me and Nari feel so small.” 

“It’s not much.” The boy shrugs back. “It personally hasn’t felt that long.” 

“And why’s that?” You hum curiously. 

He mumbles something behind his paper but you don’t hear it well. When you ask him about it, he only shakes his head and kicks you with his socket foot, urging you to go already. 

Minho actually said, “It’s because you’ve been with me the entire time.” but he’ll just tell you all about it later when you come back. 

With a scoff, you then swat his foot away and bid him goodbye. “Fine, see you later then.” 

“I’ll organize your notes until then. Bye.” 

past: July 1895

Minho sets your location on your watch to his house, now renovated to what was considered modern then. You’ve been here countless of times, albeit in different time periods of your own past (the last being when you had to ask for his help in the 1860s about your graduate thesis), but you’ve never been here in the 1890s, not when a newborn Jisung had the self-control of a toddler and immediately tried pouncing on you the moment he smelled you on their front lawn.  

Now you know what the switchblade is for (and the one time Jisung kept apologizing to you in the 1910s). 

“Ji, calm down!” Minho growls in annoyance, holding the younger boy by his arms as he drags him back inside the house. He can feel your anxiousness increase just by looking at this unfamiliar side of Jisung, prompting him to send you an apologizing look. “Sorry, um, Y/N, I—” 

“I-It’s...it’s fine.” You assure shakily with a curt nod, taking a step back as well when Jisung tries regaining two steps towards you again. “I think I came in the wrong day.” 

“It depends. What are you here for?” He asks, his voice growing faint as he successfully manages to lock Jisung inside the house. He then quickly jogs back to you, examining your face for any recognizable hints of where you could be from.

“Doctorate thesis.” You answer for him, earning you a look of realization from him. 

“Oh, it’s you.” He smiles in relief. You remember distinctly how these were also the very same words he told you when you first met him in a time travel. “I was thinking you’d never come back.” 

You feign a frown in front of him, making him laugh. “Why? Did you think I wouldn’t finish my studies?” 

“It’s just that the next time you came back, from my point of view, is when you were only in college to ask me about the 1810s.” He clarifies, to which you nod in understanding. So he does remember. “I thought it weird at first that you didn’t come back sooner to finish your doctorate.” 

“Ah, well, you in 2020 has been a big help—well, him and a shit ton of books.” You chuckle awkwardly. “This is my last trip for my doctorate, actually, since I have the smallest amount of resources for Queen Min.” 

“T-This is—this is your last?” 

You smirk at his briefly dejected expression, elbowing him gently. “Why do you look so sad? You already know we’ll meet again in the future. Plus, you’ll still meet younger versions of me later on for my college requirements which is a bit confusing to hear right now but you’ll get it later!” 

Minho opens his mouth to speak, initially to tell you something about being frustrated that he’s only seen glimpses (and different versions) of you throughout his life so far, but he’s suddenly cut off by Jisung banging wildly against the front door, making him and you flinch. 

“Um...what if we deal with Jisung first?” You suggest. “I assure you we’re all going to be great friends in the future but no one really told me that this would happen.” 

Minho nods slowly next to you, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yeah, we should probably take care of him first before your thesis. You could spare five minutes to sit down, right?” 

“Definitely.” 

And so, you spend the rest of your first day getting Jisung to calm down in your presence. 

present: February 29, 2020 

“Chan, babe, please, please, please promise that you won’t flinch when we use the party poppers later.” Eunhye sighs exasperatedly as she leads everyone into organizing the kitchen and living room. “Felix, good job on the cookies by the way! They turned out really well! Jisung, hurry up with that banner!” 

“Babe, I don’t flinch!” Chan yells across the hallway as he re-checks if everyone will have enough party hats, trumpets, and poppers for later. 

“Yes you do!” 

“What’s so significant about today, anyway?” Nari asks Jeongin as the two enter the apartment with boxes upon boxes of blood bags and alcoholic drinks. “Besides Y/N finishing their thesis, of course.” 

Shiyeon and Hyunjin follow closely behind with take-out boxes of chicken wings. “Because today is Y/N’s last time travel before they become a professor! A lot of good things are going to happen after, trust me.” Shiyeon answers with a wink. 

“How come you know all of that? You were barely with us in the 1800s.” Jisung asks while struggling to put the other end of your congratulations banner across the kitchen. Soojung is on the other end, arm beginning to fall asleep as she holds up the other end of the banner for Jisung. “Even Jeongin and Felix don’t know that.” 

“There’s a thing called correspondence and Hyunjin was a diligent gossiper.” Shiyeon only chuckles, setting down the take-out boxes on the countertop. “Also, hey, I was there in one of Y/N’s visits! It just hasn’t happened in our timeline yet but it will in three years!” 

Minho then emerges from his room, phone in hand counting down the seconds until you’re back again. “Okay, we have two hours to get everything ready.”

“Lee Minho where have you been this entire time!” Eunhye complains, finally taking the boy’s presence to take a seat. “I’ve been organizing everyone for a whole ten minutes!”  

“You mean you have two hours to get ready.” Haseul teases, seated on one of the dining table chairs and helping Changbin, Seungmin, and Felix make proper chocolates this time. “Don’t you have something else important you need to prepare?” 

“No, I can just wing it.” Minho dismisses to which Chan immediately laughs at, catching the younger boy’s panicked expression. 

“Sure you do.” Seungmin dryly responds, to which everyone topples over in laughter. 

past: November 1905

“You’ll see me again in five years, at least from your point of view.” You assure Minho from 1905 right before you leave. Jisung’s apologizing again about the incident last time but you’re quick to hug him and effectively shut him up. “The one you’ll meet in 1910 is going to be a little different, though, a little younger.” 

“But it’s still you.” 

You smile at this. “Yeah, still me.” 

Minho wants to tell you so badly that he’s met another version of you while you were away, someone older, but he quickly pushes the thought at the back of his head. Is this how you feel holding back spoilers from him? Instead, he ops to tease you. “You know, when people usually meet, it’s not as backwards as us.” When you raise an eyebrow at him, he continues, “You keep meeting me from the past and I’ve met you from the future countless of times. Even if culture’s going to be different in the future, I’m pretty sure this is still not how it goes there.” 

Finally, understanding, you let out a laugh, hitting his side playfully. “Definitely not.” You agree sheepishly. “But I think that makes it even more special. It makes you wait until we’re in the same time, right?” 

Minho nods. “What date are you going back to again?” 

“February 29, 2020. Why?” 

He says nothing else on it but bids you goodbye with one last hug instead. “Nothing. I’ll see you again soon...or another version of you.” 

“And I’ll see future you.” You chuckle before disappearing. 

present: February 29, 2020 

You come back to all the lights in Minho’s apartment turned off at the present. You hear whispers and the soft clicking of a lighter as well, prompting you to follow the noise outside. 

“I think it’s better if Changbin doesn’t hold the cake, don’t you think?” You recognize Haseul’s loud voice even from the hallways, fueling your curiosity even further. 

A slight pause then follows before you hear Chan agree, “Yeah. Hyunjin, you hold the other cake.” 

“Lix, you’re stepping on my foot.” That’s Jisung, you know by the way he’s always whiny when he complains. 

“Oh shit, sorry!” 

“Everyone, quiet! Y/N’s on their way!” Nari scolds and the hushes then quickly fall silent once you reach the kitchen, flipping the light switch on the hallway to the sound of party poppers exploding right in front of you. Only then do you see the big ‘CONGRATULATIONS Y/N!’ banner hanging right above everyone standing in a line with cake, hats, and trumpets. 

“Um?” You raise an eyebrow at everyone, breaking out into an uncontrollable grin. “What’s with all this?” 

Minho of your time then walks over to you with a Toblerone cake, carefully protecting two candles from the breeze that enters through the windows. “Chan and Eunhye insisted on a party so...congrats on finishing your thesis!” 

Over his shoulder, said vampire and immortal immediately shake their heads in denial. “It’s his idea!” Eunhye mouths to you with a smirk, making you chuckle.

You then turn to Minho with a smile. “I haven’t even finished writing it yet.” You point out only for your best friend to shrug nonchalantly. “And my graduation’s in a month.”  

“Yeah, we can work on that once everyone’s out of the apartment.” He suggests. “Now, just blow on the candles first, Seungmin’s arms are about to fall off waiting to take a picture.” 

You briefly apologize to Seungmin on the side with a sheepish laugh, blowing on the cake’s candles after to the many snaps of his film camera. “Thank you for all this. I really appreciate it, you guys!” You thank your guests after, approaching them with Minho on your side this time. 

“We can call you Professor now, right?” Hyunjin playfully asks, elbowing you gently on your side. 

“It makes me sound really old.” You pout, making him laugh. “In a few years.” 

“Three years.” Shiyeon coughs to which Minho immediately glares them down for. 

Catching this gesture, you decide on purposely ignoring it for now. You’ll have to ask Shiyeon what they mean with that later. “Anyway, let’s eat. Have you guys been here long?” 

“Not really but I’m already starving!” Soojung exclaims, passing you a plate and utensils. Next to her, Felix and Chan instinctively open up all the take-out boxes of food for everyone to dig in. 

“Alright, let’s eat!” 

present: March 1, 2020 

Minho kicks everyone out after by the strike of midnight, when all the food’s been devoured and the party games have been played at least twice. Surprisingly, even Jisung and Jeongin were directed outside by Minho at this time, which you immediately ask him about once the two boys are out of the door. “Don’t those two live here?” You joke with a dry chuckle. “You don’t have to kick them out so we can work.” 

“They’ll come back later.” Minho gently shuts the door before turning to you as you stand with your arms crossed in front of your chest, a genuinely curious expression on your face. “I just...need a moment with you.” 

You pretend to take a step back with your best dramatic expression of fear. “Oh my God, you’re going to kill me after eight years of friendship, right?” 

“What? No.” Minho furrows his brows at this, making you laugh. “It’s just...fuck, now I’m off-tracked.” 

You giggle this time, loosening your arms in front of you. “What is it, Minho?” 

There have been times, both in the past and present though rare, when Minho has looked nervous in front of you. The last time he was, from what you can remember, was when he was about to tell you that he accidentally killed the squirrel in the apartment’s back garden but even then, he wasn’t as nervous as he is now—fiddling with the hem of his blue sweater for a brief moment before finally taking the courage to step closer to you. “I-I, um—” He stammers out, one hand instinctively going up to his nape. “What I want to say is that...remember when I asked you in 1592 about how I know you?” 

“You just teased me about that last week.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to ease the sudden awkwardness, only to make it even worse for Minho. With this, your expression immediately contorts into worry. “What about it?” 

“Then in 1905, where you just came back from, you told me we’ll meet in the right time eventually...” He continues after a while, smiling back when you do reassuringly. “In between those centuries, of course, y-you—you came in for your college homework and your Masteral’s but there was also...there was also someone else.” 

This unexpected turn drops something heavy on your stomach, your smile unconsciously faltering. Minho wants to snicker but, knowing you, you’ll probably think of him cold if he does so he takes in a deep breath and tries his best to continue with less stutters this time. “Don’t be too sad, it’s still you, just a few months in the future.” He assures with a chuckle, hands instinctively going up to your sides to rub your arms comfortingly. Your eyes widen at this in response and you freeze in his touch. “Anyway, July 2020 Y/N just told me to do something tonight, if that’s okay.” 

It takes you a moment to respond but Minho patiently waits, holding back his laugh by biting his lip down. He’s reading your thoughts as they go into overdrive. Is this how you feel when I hide the future from you before? You internally ask to which he nods at. “U-Um, so...what are you going to do?”

“Just tell you that I’ve been in love with you for a long time.” Minho finally confesses, sighing in relief once he’s gotten the words out surprisingly well. “And if you’d like to go out for a trip after your graduation—and not the time travel trip, this time so we can be together right.” 

There’s more to it, actually, Minho has a whole paper written and rehearsed for a span of almost three centuries but he figures you’ll find out about it eventually. He could tell you about how he’s been in love with every version of you that he’s met in the past another time or maybe you already know it. 

“So?” He asks after a while when you don’t speak verbally. Your thoughts are still muddled and your heartbeat’s a little too fast for his liking but he holds any impulsive urge he might have in for your sake. “What do you say?” 

You purse your lips once, mustering up a relieved smile at him after. “You already met me from the future this time—which I commend you for, by the way, because you’ve one-upped me again this time!—so I think you already know the answer to that.” 

epilogue

past: July 1799

You know full well that you’re not supposed to travel back in time for personal reasons, especially not for the reason you’re coming into 1799 to see a past Minho for, but you figure that you’re already in your university’s faculty roster. If I get caught, you think to yourself as you easily spot Minho with Chan at an art exhibit in Paris, the professors will probably understand. 

“Minho! Chan!” You call with your hand above your head waving frantically at the two, catching theirs and a few patrons’ attentions. You don’t mind the extra attention as you approach him, though, since they did instinctively made way for you because of it. “Hello there, you two!” 

“Hi, Y/N!” Chan greets you happily, giving you a side hug. “Aren’t you back too soon?” 

But knowing full well that you’re probably not the same one the two met last time, Minho smirks in amusement as he eyes your choice of clothes and asks, “And where did you come from? By the clothes, me from the future probably doesn’t know you’re here.” 

“Yeah, I picked out my own clothes for today. Anyway, I won’t be here long.” You roll your eyes with a chuckle. “I’m from July 2020 and I’m not here for any academic work this time! I just wanted to ask you a quick favor.” 

From what you’ve detailed in your own journals, the last time you met from this particular Minho’s point of view was when you were doing a paper on the Baroque movement for one of your college classes. 

“What is it?” He asks you anyway, his body turned away from the painting that he and Chan have been previously admiring as he gives you his full attention. 

Judging from the amount of times you’ve visited him (and the different versions of you he’s meet as well), his future self seems to agree on your requests all the time. 

“I can’t tell you much but please prepare something on February 29, 2020!” You answer, your watch beeping on your side to remind you that it’s almost time to leave. “And make sure to mention me! Remember, Y/N from July 2020!” 

Before he could ask about it, further, however, you were already gone. 

“What do you think that was about, Chan?” Minho asks the older vampire instead. 

But Chan simply shrugs, hands going deeper in his pockets as he thinks. “No idea.” He admits in equal confusion. “Guess we’ll have to see in three hundred years.” 

[herstarburststories]

The devil at your door

Kinktober day 3: Demon

Suptober day 3: Demonic

Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader

A/N: This one goes for @holylulusworld's 10k celebration, my trope was Lovers to Enemies. Congrats again, hon! And this is also my piece for @hardcoresupernatural 's Halloween challenge with the prompt: I'm not scared of you.

@deanmonandnegansbitch's asked: Deanmon x Reader, he realizes no one could tame the marks hunger like she did. And yet he lost her by sticking his dick in other women

Warnings: dirty talk, mentions of boob fucking, hints of dark sexual, angst if you squint, teasing

CATCH UP KINKTOBER: Day 1 / Day 2

Spending his whole life in imaginary chains had frustrated Dean Winchester more than he was aware of. He’d always done what his dad taught him; kept himself from what he wanted in order to be the good soldier — the hero — even if it was against his own desires. 

Dean saved the world once or twice and didn't get a thank you, a break long enough to relax or even visit the beach for the first time. No, hunters were never kids. Hunters never had time for fun. Hunters were made to be hunting. He always found himself fighting winless battles and ending up drowned in whiskey and self-pity.

Now it was all gone. His old persona never had time to be human, so losing that side of him wasn't a big deal. If anything, he felt better now. Whatever his green eyes wanted, Dean would go and get it.

No barbed ward could contain a demon, much less the Knight.

At first, it was funny. Messing around with Crowley, fucking some good, new pussies after tasting only yours, and causing destruction whenever he felt like it.

Then the thrill expired. Honestly, the Winchester pictured it would last longer. Crowley started bitching around like a whiny little man and the new girls no longer could satisfy him — that is, if they ever did. Dean was pretty sure he liked them so much because the cat and mouse play of finding a new toy, but at some point, the cat gets enough of the foreplay and wants to eat the prey. They were so boring in all their humanly forms: they didn't have his stamina, they didn’t know his sweet spots, and they didn’t enjoy all the mischievous things he wanted to do.

Only painting his knuckles with an aleatory idiot's blood could get a real smile out of him these days. Nonetheless, even throwing punches gets exhausting when they stop fighting back.

Where was the fun of being free?

It clicked him like one of the worst sounds of tortured souls screams; you. 

You used to be the wild in Dean's heart during hunter days. You knew all the bad things he wanted to do, and you moaned in pleasure through them. You knew his body and yours like religion and shamelessly worshipped them.

When he finds himself at your door after leaving a woman who just wanted some vanilla sex in a cheap motel, it shouldn't have been a surprise. At least, it's not in his uniquely demonic brand of rationality. As you open the door, the look on your face tells him you agree with that. 

Or so his deranged mind said.

You crossed your arms, the angle exposing your cleavage more as you leaned against the rose-colored door that he helped you paint months ago.

Dean used to think this little apple pie life was so savage, something out of his reach that he’d only get to touch in case of a miracle, like caressing the fire only to get a feel for the burn. Now he can't help but scrunch up his nose, disgusted by domestic, urban pleasures.

“What do you want, Dean?” You looked him up and down, a humorless smile on your face. “Got tired of fucking everyone with a pair of boobs?”

“I'm more interested in your boobs, sweetheart.” Dean isn't put off by your sarcasm, countering with the same flirty tone that used to get you riled up all the time.

Isn't the past such a beautiful memory?

“Go find someone your species, Winchester.” You rolled your eyes and pulled away, pushing the door closed before Dean's foot interrupted you.

He faked a pout. “Wow. That's racist, Y/N. This demon’s got feelings, you know?”

His childish attitude heats your system. Only Dean, demon or not, could push your buttons and get on your nerves in a matter of seconds. You pushed the pink door fully open with enough strength to make it slam against the wall with a loud crack. Dean doesn't look affected, though. You furiously glare at his lopsided grin.

“Do you also have a brain? I told you to leave. Get lost.”

“Come on, baby girl. I know you miss my cock. What about a night to remember?”

Believing he was the man you once loved was getting harder with every word he said. Your body seemed to recognize him easier, aching for him like some kind of spell. All you had after Dean Winchester left was a longing body and fury.

“Do you really think I'm gonna let you in my house for a quick fuck like I'm one of your one night stands?”

Dean appeared to be considering it for a moment, eyes focused on anything but you. His lips pursed before he glanced at you with a malicious beam. “Yes. You always said I was the best sex you ever had. Why not get a bit of it? You already know you won't regret that, sweetheart.”

You studied him, picturing what would bring a man who ran away back to what used to be his home. Dean had left as soon as he became a demon, the only trace of his existence being a note addressed to Sam and pieces of your heart. When you and Sammy finally found the eldest Winchester, he made was certain to make sure that you were aware of his very active sex life. He’d tacked on that he'd kill Sam and you both if you tried to save him.

You let him run like water after this. The Winchesters might have that wondrous codependency, but you didn't need something like that in your life. Especially not with a demonic cheater and murder.

Your eyes were too wide to ignore the warning signs now. Yet, that didn't answer why he was in your doorway. If he wanted to be saved, he'd go for Sam and call you from there. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldn't spend time talking about fond memories. He didn't look like a lost puppy looking for shelter either. So, what the fuck was this green-eyed devil doing here?

Quietude thickened while you noticed Dean not seeming to notice your silence, his eyes too busy observing your breasts. Your Dean Winchester was always a boob man, and he was looking like he'd fuck your titties on your porch for all your neighbors to see. It certainly wouldn't be yours and his first time with public sex. Still, that wasn't the point: he was here, hair longer than usual and cock clearly starting to awaken in his jeans…

Because he had missed you.

You chortled in dismay, unable to discern whether he was kidding or not despite the bulge in his pants, and that glimmer in his eyes already confirmed your suspicions. You knew him.

The realization almost cheered up your soul. Your reasoning stopped you from collecting hopes about that demoniac form of a man. Dean was here for carnal desire, not love. He had sex with other women while you spent sleepless nights crying into his old shirts. He broke you as the monster that he was — he deserved to suffer.

You didn't care if your heart would be a little more broken, or you pussy a bit needier after that.

“You missed fucking me, Dean? Missed my tight pussy squeezing your cock? Maybe my mouth on it? Or how you got it between my boobs? Did you miss how I taste?” You took a step closer to him, making Dean lift his glare to your face again. 

He wore a cocky smirk as he answered, “Not as much as you missed me.”

Dean was right. Your body cried for him, and so did your soul. Who fucking cares? He didn't before, and you would not now.

“Liar.” The word rolled letter by letter off of your tongue. “I can take care of myself, even call a friend to do that, but you came back just because you can't forget how eating my pussy like a fucking feast feels like. Can you, sweetheart?”

You used that stupid nickname that he often gave people. You were very aware that it would irritate him, as it was laced with the implication of another man putting his hands on you.

Dean quickly grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him. He groaned. It was that fucking sound he made when something truly made him furious, and you knew your panties were gone. His eyes flashed into darkness that replaced his glistening greens, and for some calamitous reason, that turned you on.

“You better not have let anyone fuck what's mine, Y/N. I'd rip his throat in front of you and fuck you right next to his body,” he spits out jealously. His posture radiated that usual, alpha-esque tenseness that tumbled you two into angry, possessive sex so many times before.

“So jealous. I loved to tease you only to get you rough on me. Throwing me against the wall, going so hard inside my pussy that the bed broke, holding me hard enough to leave marks. You wanted for my bruises too, right? How I'd scratch your back, bite your collarbone, ruin your neck for everyone to see you were mine, but I guess what you really liked about me was that I was as hungry for you as you were for me. I would’ve let you do anything to my body, and I did. Because I wasn’t scared of you, Dean, and I’m not scared of you now either.” The way your arms compulsively wrapped around his neck made you wonder if you really wanted to strangle him or pull him closer. You could smell his manly cologne mixed with sulfur. It shouldn't make you want him more. Your knees shouldn't be begging to kneel for him and suck his cock. Be stronger. “You could come in, throw my clothes away and fuck my boobs with your dick instead of your eyes. Hurt me good enough to make me ask for more. But you know what?”

“Mm?” Dean's reply came in a hum as you pressed your hips against his, causing his clothed cock to rub on your belly. It was a tiny bit of relief — finally. He missed this so much: he couldn't wait to slip into your tight pussy.

“You won't.” Your lips brushed against his before you pulled away. His hands left your body from his surprise at your words. A wry smirk was wrung from your lips despite your wet pussy. “You stuck your dick into other women as soon as you became… whatever this is.” You scoffed, pointing at him with a feigned disgust in your eyes that you knew your body disagreed with. “Go have fun with your hand, Dean.”

A light rose painted door was ultimately closed in his face.

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[psychovigilantewrites]

Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N:  I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW:  mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,�� he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

[jlf23tumble]

I will be sitting for ten hours almost straight tomorrow. Do you have any longggg 1d fic recs that you love? ♥️

Oh, wow, ten hours!!!! I'm a known lover of short shorts, so I don't have a tremendous amount of longer ones, but fortunately, I *have* answered this one before, so I stand by this list!! (Only one of them is no longer available--and that's because it literally stole from one of the other ones, but that's drama for another day.) Not listed there but equally beloved, here are some others!

Tied Down, @ham-palpert, 48k. One of my very faves for plot twists, it just reads like a movie I'd actually want to see. The first chapter might seem "scary" or whatever, but stick with it!

Truly, Madly, Deeply (10 Things I Hate about You), sunsetmog, 54k. I know I've talk a LOT about this author’s ongoing (???) wip, Harry Styles Cooks… (which is phenomenal, and it's also good and long), but this one? Angst city, Harry auditions for XFUK without telling his boyfriend/friends, becomes a success, then comes home.

Burnt, objectlesson, 57k. I just rec'd this one recently, and I'll rec it always, I was there for its birth and the weirdness around its suppression, but I'm so glad it's out in this world!

Time Passed, coffinofachimera/ @belialsmiracles, 66k. For every fic rec list I make, I always have at least one fic where I say, if you read nothing else, read this one, AND THIS IS IT, all categories, it’s simply astounding, life-changing, world-ending, and it kills me that more people haven’t left comments, but if it keeps shitty comments away, I’m all for it, I’ll protect this author/fic with my life. I can’t even begin to describe it, but if you want to know what the songs Fine Line or She are about, here you go! AIMH, Tokyo Harry!

The World Turned Upside Down, dogslpdi/ @dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram, 71k. I’m really iffy on historical fics, but this fic! This fic nails it! The detail and the emotion, the way you can feel the effects of the strike in so many ways, but also how HIV/AIDS is not that far off on the horizon, it’s just so well done. Plus, I adore Ralph’s humor and the way she tagged this both “minor angst” and “miner angst,” and if I can’t end an angst rec on a light note, what more can I do?

You were a beam of light, lit up my broken sky, CuckooTrooke/ @larrydoinglaundry, 84k. I just read this one last week, and I LOVED IT, all about kink discovery and exploration, but with a lot of humor and reality, it's just so good!

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, @kingsofeverything, 109k. I'm not the hugest fan of cheater fics, but this one just works? Louis, late in life, discovering he's not straight, and the way it all goes down--nice! Lauren's written a lot of other longer fic that I'd definitely rec, too.

Our Lives, Non-Fiction, @indiaalphawhiskey, 113k. I'm a tremendous fan of Marcel, always, and this version of him, chef's kiss! Author Louis as well!

Of Mates and Men, bananaheathen, 231k. This one's a wip, but don't let that or the word count scare you! The author updates every two weeks or so, a lovely 10k gift that has been building over time. The softest, coziest sweater--the build up! The warmth!