#slow burn but very cute and romantic

[daisynik7]

Casually crying over this manga, I’m such a sucker for the “plain” girl x popular boy trope.

[eightmakesonebraincell]

the essence of youth is summers with you

genre: poly!surfers!ateez x fem!reader, childhood best friend!san, sort of college!au, slice of life and coming of age, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 38.7k

c/w: surfer!ateez (deserves a warning), explicit profanity, hella angst, mentions of alcohol, themes of sexuality and homophobia, arguments, implied toxicity (not the boys), miscommunication, kissing, m x m interactions

synopsis: when you move away from your hometown at the age of six, you discover that summer in namhae takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands– choi san. but as the summers go past and he goes to seoul for college, bringing back new friends each year, you start to develop feelings that run deeper than just friendship. will your summers of youth become ones of love and dreams, or will they end in pain and heartbreak?

a/n: i owe the biggest thank you to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for making this fic possible and for all the support she's given me in the last three months. this fic has quickly become one that i hold dearly in my heart because of how healing it has been to write, so i hope this is also healing to read ♡

it’s the first day of summer when you move to namhae.

the houses and trees flicker past and eventually peter out into vaster fields, mudflats and stretches of beach as your father drives through the countryside from yeosu to namhae. you idly wonder if summer in namhae will be like what it is back in your hometown.

it isn’t very comfortable wedged between your parents in the middle seat of the mini-truck, especially when some of the roads become unpaved as you arrive closer to the village. but you’re wearing your cute, yellow sundress with bumble bees across the front pocket, which is your big-girl dress, so you can deal with the bumpiness a little longer without complaining. the truck sounds like it’s going to give out as it groans and sputters to a stop in front of what will be your new home.

tentatively, you hop out and look around. it’s a quaint beach house that rests along a modest coastal embankment. when you walk closer to the edge of the port, you see that there’s a stretch of sand that leads to the ocean, and a little further down the coast is another beach house– your new neighbours.

the rattle of your truck must have alerted them to your arrival, because they come out with warm smiles and even warmer greetings. they exchange handshakes and hugs with your parents, then the attention falls to you. there’s a boy who peers out from behind his mother’s legs as she compliments your dress, his round eyes brimming with curiosity at the sight of a potential playmate other than his sister. you cling onto the side of your mother’s dress and the adults share a laugh.

the boy’s mother gently nudges him forward. “go on, sweetie. say hi.”

with another nod of encouragement, the boy shuffles closer to you with an impish grin. you realise he’s shorter than you are. “hi, i’m san. i’m six years old and i like the sea!”

the grip you have on your mother’s dress loosens a little as you mumble shyly in return, “i’m y/n. i’m six and i like the sea too.”

his smile grows impossibly wider, and his eyes and remaining reservations disappear at your words. reaching out, he grabs your hand in a physical declaration of friendship. your other hand falls away from your mother’s dress.

“we’re going to go play at the beach,” he announces, because you’re his friend now and friends play together.

on your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.

“sannie!” you skid across the wooden floorboards of his living room in your sock-clad feet, startling his father who is sitting on the couch with a newspaper.

he peers at you from above his glasses with the smile that stays consistently warm, be it from him or his son. he chuckles, “hello, sweetheart, here to play with san again?”

you bow slightly in greeting and nod before you whiz off once more in the direction of san’s room. summer vacation has only just started and you and san have already spent seven summers together, but there are crabs to chase and waves to splash and sandcastles to build so there’s not a day to be wasted.

“choi san!” you holler again, thundering up to his door. you’re about to yank it open when san opens it from the opposite side, excitement already plastered across his face as he starts to yell your name too.

the moment he appears, you hurtle into his chest for a hug that ends up knocking you both off-balance. he stumbles backwards with you in his arms and rebounds off the edge of his bed, sending you both sprawling onto the floor in a fit of laughter. you’ve become familiar with the way his bedroom floor feels from these exact moments, and you’ve also become familiar with the way san’s arms feel around you from being wrapped up in his tight cuddles. you may love the sea, but you love being with san just a little more.

“do you have your bucket?” you ask, still tangled together on the floor in a mess of limbs and untamed hair.

san props himself up on an elbow and reaches behind you to reveal a large, plastic bucket. it’s purple with a white handle and it matches yours; blue with a white handle and still lying on its side from when you dropped it in favour of hugging san.

you sweep up your bucket with a cheeky grin, “race you to the beach!” using san’s chest as leverage to stand up, then pushing him onto his back again by his shoulders for good measure, you take off for the door.

“that’s cheating!” he yells after you.

you sprint with glee back through the living room, barely managing to brake in time to avoid running headfirst into his mother. you greet and farewell her in a single breath before you’re off again, forgoing your sandals when you hear the thundering of san’s footsteps and a warbled bye mum! bye dad! catching up behind you.

the pavement is hot under the bare soles of your feet but soon enough you leap off the sidewalk, bucket clattering in your hand, and the ground turns cool and soft as you run across the sinking sand. san jumps after you with a battlecry of his own and you scream when you feel him right on your tail. he catches up as you near the waves and with a final burst of energy, he grabs your hand and tugs you along with him.

your grip on your bucket is lost once more when you yelp and focus on keeping up instead– san’s only got an inch on you now but why is he so much faster than you? the wet sand starts to grow colder, salty water splashing everywhere the further you sprint. neither of you slow down– not that you could with san dragging you along right into the thick of the crashing waves as he whoops.

you dread the day san will actually be tall enough to pick you up and toss you into the water, but for now, you give him the satisfaction of pretending. you wait for him to bend down a little, then you kick the water right into his face. he splutters indignantly and blinks the sting away until he can see the wide smirk on your face. his tongue pokes his cheek as he gives you a scandalised smile, before he cocks his head and sniggers, “your turn.”

you take that as your cue to run. san dips his bucket into the water, scooping it up full to the brim, then starts chasing you with faux anger that makes you shriek in delight. you yell breathless apologies over your shoulder in between giggles but they all fall upon deaf ears as he continues streaking after you, bucket held high like a madman with an axe.

you end up slowing down because it’s hard to run through water, and you’re met with the icy downpour of water over your head. san laughs triumphantly when you look at him with the ferocity of a soaked kitten. you eye his bucket and weigh up the odds of snatching it out of his hands versus dunking him headfirst underwater through sheer force. realistically, you have no chances of doing either. plus, san knows you too well.

“use your own bucket, you loser,” he banters as he hides his. and yet, he walks back to retrieve your bucket for you before it’s swept out by the waves.

“are you cold?” san asks whilst passing it to you.

there’s vigour and liveliness thrumming through your every vein. “no,” you answer, “‘m not cold.” never with you.

he nods, “let me know if you do get cold, okay? i’ll grab you a jacket or something.”

“my house is literally next to yours. i can get one if i need to,” you chuckle.

“i know, but it’s the principle of it. just shut up and let me have my chivalrous moment.” san sits with the characteristic huffiness of a teenager who thinks he’s all grown up now that he’s in high school. but it’s not very convincing when he immediately starts to shovel sand into his bucket with the enthusiasm of a puppy.

“okay, thank you, sannie. i’ll let you know if i so much as shiver,” you dotingly appease him.

he nods diligently, then pats the sand next to him for you to sit down too. you join him in filling up the buckets with sand so that you two can make your thirty second attempt to build a five-tiered sandcastle pyramid. so far, you’ve only ever gotten to the third layer before it starts to crumble apart.

“what’s wrong?” you ask when san stops packing the sand into his bucket.

you realise he’s distracted by something in the distance and you follow his line of sight to find a lone surfer riding a wave in the horizon. san watches as the man’s body becomes an extension of the ocean– a dancing duet with the rolling waves as he stands steadily on his board with powerful elegance. when the board glides towards the shore, the man spreads his arms like an eagle’s wings and lets himself fall backwards into the sway of the water.

san is suddenly filled with yearning to learn of the sea’s choreography. he declares, “i want to become a surfer.”

“what happened to becoming a dancer?” you raise an eyebrow. because if there’s one thing that san loves just as much as the sea, then it’s dancing.

“becoming a dancer is still my dream. i meant surfing as an interest,” he breathes out. “just look at him. he looks so…free.”

you can see it in the way san’s eyes follow the surfer’s movements and sparkle with wonder– the moment he falls utterly and hopelessly in love. “then try it,” you encourage, “what’s stopping you?”

san tears his gaze away from the ocean to look at you instead. the same, loving gaze stays on his face. “nothing,” he proclaims with a growing smile. “absolutely nothing.”

san has all the summers in the world to surf. and you’ll be there with him for every single one.

you watch as san fixes his surfboard to the top of his black jeep– the last of his luggage to be loaded.

“i don’t get why you’re taking that with you. there’s probably nowhere to even surf in seoul.” you know you sound like a snobby six-year-old and not the eighteen-year-old that you are, but you don’t really care right now. not when san is leaving and you won’t be able to attend college together like you thought you would be.

tugging on the straps once more to check that they’re secure, he chuckles, “doesn’t hurt to take it just in case.” when he sees the forlorn look on your face he adds, “i’ll be back every summer, yeah?”

“it won’t be the same. who am i going to hang out with every day?” you grumble.

san laughs endearingly, “it’s only until i graduate.”

“or you find a job or a girlfriend and then you’ll stay in seoul forever.” you cross your arms defiantly as san steps closer and reaches out to ruffle your hair. where you had stopped growing at fifteen, san is still growing and he now towers almost half a head over you.

“just four years–no job, no girlfriend–and then i’ll be back. i promise.” he opens his arms a little, “now, do i get my goodbye hug or do i need to tickle it out of you instead?”

you huff before uncrossing your arms and sinking into his warm embrace. he folds you into his chest as your arms wrap around his waist. closing your eyes, you memorise the feeling of his back muscles flexing under your hands while he gently rocks you side to side. you soak in his body heat that swaddles your entire being in safety and home. you breathe him in one last time when you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the steady pulse that beats there.

“i’ll miss you,” you whisper, because you don’t trust your voice not to crack if you speak any louder.

san presses a soft kiss against your hairline and admits, “i’ll miss you more.”

you bite back the urge to respond with ‘then stay’, cherishing the moment for a little longer instead, before you step away so that he can say his goodbyes to his family. he hugs them one by one; his father, his sister, haneul, and lastly, his mother. she’s discreetly wiping at her tears and you have to look away so that you don’t start crying too. because if you start crying, everything will become blurry, and you can’t afford that when this is the last time you’ll see san until next summer.

you all gather around the driver’s window that’s rolled down to the very bottom when san is finally seated. seeing him buckle his seatbelt ready to leave overwhelms you with a sense of finality and your eyes well up before you can blink the hotness away. san stretches a hand out to thumb away your tears and makes a sad noise, “don’t cry, please? we can call whenever you want.”

you sniffle, “call me when you arrive?”

he nods with that dimpled smile you are already starting to miss. and then just like that, your best friend is gone. you stand outside his house for a stretch of time, even after the outline of his jeep has long since disappeared into the distance. it may be the last week of summer, but it feels like it’s the middle of winter today.

san’s eyes flick upwards to look in the rearview mirror, even though he hasn’t been able to see your reflection the last three times he’s looked. he had tried to appear as collected as he could to avoid making it any harder for you, but now he regrets not holding your hand a little longer; a little tighter. and if san tears up a little as he starts the four-hour drive up to seoul, then that’s between him, the car, and the playlist you made just for him.

you absentmindedly tug on a crease in your bed sheets as you laze on your bed, phone on speaker so you don’t have to hold it. “what was that?” you pull your device closer to your ear. “are you going somewhere?”

there it is again– the beeping sound of a car in reverse. the warning signal stops as san answers vaguely, “home.”

you jolt up into a sitting position, a growing sense of excitement making its way across your face as you dare to ask, “home?”

“yeah, home,” san confirms, and you can hear the smile in his voice this time. “i told you i’d see you soon, didn’t i?”

“i didn’t think you meant in five literal minutes,” you almost trip over your own feet in your hurry to slip some shoes on. “oh my god, is that why you said you couldn’t facetime me?”

you can hear his answer this time– not the scratchy voice that comes from your speaker, no– the smooth deepness of san’s voice close by. and there he is. after almost a year of freezing days, absent dimples and longing calls, choi san is finally back in namhae for the summer.

in quick succession, you notice three things. one, san has returned from seoul with triple the number of surfboards that he left with, strapped to the top of his black jeep. two, said man is now almost a whole head taller than you as he watches you with a smirk and disconnects your call. and three, he’s not alone.

if you think that san is tall, then the two guys that hop out of the jeep after him are even taller. one of them runs a veiny hand through his dark brown locks, which fall back down to softly frame his face. the other turns in your direction after closing his door and you realise you’ve seen him before– both of them, actually.

on top of your spontaneous calls with san, you facetime him every friday afternoon after your own classes have finished. he’s usually in one of the university’s dance studios because, as a dance major at kq university, the studio is basically his second home. san mentions his friends every now and then and they’ll appear behind him to say hello to you or you’ll be able to hear them in the background of the call.

quite frankly, the crusty quality of san’s front camera hardly does them justice because wow. they’re hot. and tall. they’re not letting you forget that fact when the three of them step away from the jeep and closer to where you and san’s family are waiting to welcome them.

san greets his parents with a hug before he gestures to his friends one by one, “yunho, mingi. the friends i was telling you about.”

yunho and mingi thank san’s parents for letting them stay the summer and apologise in advance for the inconvenience. but from the way they’re immediately told that their extended stay is more than welcome and that hopefully the drive down from seoul wasn’t too tiring, you know san’s parents have already adopted the two well-mannered boys as their own sons.

“hey, pipsqueak,” san sidles up to your side whilst his parents fuss over his friends.

you look at him, appalled by the sudden nickname, and even more so as you swat his hand away when he playfully ruffles your hair to tease, “looks like you’ve been busy doing everything but growing.”

“on second thoughts, maybe i don’t really miss you.”

san laughs, the tinkle of the sound like the crisp smell of the ocean during sunrise. he pulls you into him and that’s all it takes for you to melt in his embrace. despite your earlier quip, you’ve missed san terribly. it finally feels like namhae now that his familiar arms are around you again.

the rumble of san’s chest is soothing as he says, “well, i miss you. it’s good to be back home.”

you pull back a little to look up at him and god, he’s gotten so much taller. “it’s good to have you back home, choi san.”

the sound of approaching footsteps breaks your hug apart and you give the two boys a friendly smile as san roughly introduces your names, “but you all already know that, considering you guys basically see each other every week.”

“on top of the fact that san doesn’t shut up about you,” mingi jokes.

san punches him in the arm and mingi amends himself with a laugh, “namhae! he doesn’t shut up about namhae!”

yunho snorts, then offers you a small hug as he properly introduces himself. he leaves enough space between your bodies for the holy spirit to boogie when his arms encircle you, and you honestly find his courtesy extremely endearing.

“are you two also dance majors?” you ask.

“yeah, so we share some classes together,” yunho explains. “mingi and san are in the department of dance performance though, whereas i’m in choreo, so they have all their classes together and i only share the core ones with them.”

“good thing, too,” mingi joins the conversation and rests an arm around the other’s shoulder. “i’ve known him since high school and i was honestly starting to get a little sick of his face.”

he earns himself a jab to the side and he keels over with a dramatic groan. both san and yunho ignore him in favour of stepping back towards the jeep to unload their surfboards. you eye the boards with curiosity, recognising the white deck with the yellow and blue tail to be san’s. the design is simple, but san had used his own money to purchase it as his first transition board after the beginner-level mini malibu his parents had gifted him, so it’s his baby.

“are these all yours?” you question as san rests the tail of his board on the ground.

he shakes his head with a flustered laugh, “the guys brought theirs along too.”

mingi reaches for his board after yunho takes his and your jaw drops to the ground. “you all surf? wait, so you can surf in seoul?!”

“no, you were right. you can’t,” san chortles in embarrassment. “but there are a couple of indoor surfing places that we can go to.”

mingi hikes his surfboard against his hip, “doesn’t beat the real thing, though.”

“nope, which is exactly why we’re crashing. sorry, by the way–we probably should’ve asked you whether we could come,” yunho scratches the back of his neck.

you frown, “of course you can. it’s not like i’m the town head of namhae or anything.”

“but they know we spend our summers together,” san lightly bumps you with the side of his hip.

“oh,” you can feel heat creeping across your cheeks, so you force it away by jumping on the opportunity to tease, “you know what? mingi was right. you don’t shut up about me, do you.”

mingi hollers at the ammunition you have just given him for future use and even yunho slaps his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. it’s amusing to see san flustering so easily now that there’s a new dynamic of friendship between you and the other two boys, and san resorts to giving both of his friends’ asses a good-natured kick in the direction of the beach.

as they lumber off with their boards sniggering, san effortlessly hoists his own board up and sideways and beckons, “let’s go.”

“you know i can’t surf, san.”

he flicks your nose fondly with his free hand, “not to surf, silly. let’s go get our buckets.”

your eyes widen and you stand on your tiptoes with excitement, “buckets?”

“of course,” san waggles his eyebrows up and down with his dual dimples. “we’ve got some serious sandcastle-building to show off.”

half an hour later, all three surfboards are tossed to one side in the wet sand as you share the buckets for an intense showdown between the ‘namhae ninjas’ and the ‘highschool homies’. san had shot down your suggestion to alliterate your team name with the word ‘neighbours’, claiming it was an insult to the bestfriendshipness between you two, but hadn’t been able to come up with a much better alternative himself.

san holds his breath as you upturn another moulded bucket of sand onto the third tier of your sandcastle pyramid. with little surprise, the foundation starts to crumble and triggers a chain reaction that topples it all over. as always, some things just don’t change, even over time.

mingi laughs at your sandy ruins with an awful lot of audacity for someone who had watched yunho build most of their sandcastle, only to then add a little stick at the very top as a finishing touch. he grabs his phone from where he had left it on the safety of his discarded towel and holds up the front camera to take a photo of you all.

where there used to be two sandcastles between two friends, there are now two sandcastles between four. mingi snaps the photo, eternalising the moment. some things do change over time, and sometimes, change is just the beginning of a new chapter.

“which one do you think looks better?”

your mother takes a step back to scrutinise yunho’s pick. “this one,” she points, “the other colour palette clashes too much.”

san nods solemnly in agreement and mingi squints at his own choice from beside. with the seriousness of their expressions, one would think that they’re discussing investment properties. in reality, you’re watching your trio of friends and your mother earnestly matching and colour-coordinating the floral prints of your father’s flowy farming pants to their button-up shirts.

noticing the dubious frown on mingi’s face, your mother nonchalantly skims her fingertips over the pants he’s holding. “this is one of my favourites because it has little leaves on it,” she remarks, before dropping her voice to a whisper so that only mingi can hear her next words. “it matches your shirt. i think you’ll look the best in it.”

he immediately perks up and you can’t help but compare him to a sunflower that thrives the most under a loving hand. it’s incredibly cute and you can also tell that your mother feels the same, if not obvious from the way she has been giving him extra hugs and compliments all summer.

you rejoin the boys after you have all changed into your pants. it takes a lot of self control not to laugh when you see how seriously they are taking their get-up; rubber boots hiked up to their knees over their floral pants, and their straw hats secured snugly with the chin straps. even as disinterested as your father originally was when the trio had first arrived at the beginning of summer, he now lingers behind the sliding glass doors to watch you and san attempt to teach the tall boys how to plant rice seedlings in the paddy field.

yunho grabs a small, prepared bed of seedlings and turns to look at you cheekily. “want to be a rice friend and show me how to plant these?”

you level him with a stare that makes him chuckle and apologise, “sorry, i won’t say that a-grain.”

he looks awfully pleased with himself, so you turn on your heels in pretence to ditch him for mingi instead. you let out an involuntary yelp when yunho prevents your escape by quite literally manhandling you back next to him. he dares to up his charm by using his wide, sparkling eyes on you as he thrusts the seedlings into your hands, like a child waiting for you to open a bag of snacks– how could anybody say no?

you talk him through your demonstration, separating a small cluster of seedlings from the seedbed before transplanting it into the field. once he seems confident, you let him take over. it’s mesmerising to watch yunho’s hands as he deftly carries out each step– the way his long and slender fingers move with coordination and grace. despite it being his first time, he works skillfully like someone with years of experience. you’ve come to realise that yunho’s good at doing things that involve physicality, like dancing, surfing, and now farming.

“how did you start surfing?” you wonder.

yunho stills momentarily, before he separates another cluster of seedlings and runs his fingers through its green shoots. “i actually started surfing because mingi wanted to try,” his voice is fond. “it’s been four or five years now.”

“that’s really sweet of you.”

he ducks his head bashfully, then asks, “what about you? how come you don’t surf?”

“san roped me into his first few lessons, but i never got the hang of it so i stopped,” you reveal. “i prefer watching, anyway.”

“maybe you just didn’t have a good teacher. i could teach you one day?”

you don’t doubt that he would make a good teacher, but you would most definitely be a terrible student. the shirt and board shorts that leave very little to imagination when he’s soaked, and the water that drips from the ends of his hair down his jawline and neck are distracting enough as they are from a distance.

you chuckle, “you’re going to need a lot longer than just a few days to turn me into a surfer. you guys leave this weekend, don’t you?”

“that’s true,” he hums. “but there’s always next summer…if you’d like that?”

at his words, you suddenly don’t know where to look. the rosiness that starts to colour your cheeks makes a small part of you hope that there is an underlying hint of flirting in his question. before you can answer though, you’re interrupted by san peering over your shoulder to look at yunho’s progress. “of course you’re good at this too.”

you crane your neck to look around san, where you find mingi squatting and planting seedlings in the rows that are within arm’s reach.

“how’s he going?”

san glances back, “he’s, uh–well. he’s trying.”

“my hardest!” mingi yells across the field.

with a laugh, you stand up and slowly make your way towards him, leaving san and yunho to lay down the rules to see who can plant the most seedlings in the next half an hour. because apparently, everything needs to be a competition between them.

the seedlings that mingi has planted don’t look that bad, honestly. they’re a little lopsided, the spacing and height of each seedling a little inconsistent, but for his first time it really isn’t all too bad. you tell him such and squat down beside him. “here, let me show you.”

you gently remove one of the seedlings from the watery mud whilst talking, “they may just be plants, but they’re like people, too. if you treat them with love and care, you can see the same reflected in them.” you neaten the sides of the hole as you add, “you know, it’s kind of like how yunho loves and cares for you.”

having spent all summer with the pair, you notice all the times yunho subtly perks his head up to locate where the other boy is. all the times yunho brings him into conversation or back into the little huddle you’re all standing in. all the times yunho will wait for mingi to say what he wants or thinks before saying the same thing himself.

your fingers ease the seedling into the hole, then you fill it with soil and pat it down firmly to give the shoot the support it needs. “yunho told me he started surfing because you wanted to.”

at your words, mingi nods with a wistful smile; completely different from his characteristic cheerfulness. even the brightest of stars have moments where their twinkle dulls. “i was going through a rough time at home and i wanted something to distract myself…give myself a reason to get out of the house, even if just for a few hours,” he reveals. “sometimes, yunho and i skipped our morning classes and he would take me on long trips to the beach just so that we could surf.”

“i’m glad you had him to help you through that.”

“yeah, he’s helped me a lot,” mingi agrees. “he still does. sannie too.” as he talks, mingi attempts to plant another seedling the way you have shown him, and this time, it stands tall and proud amongst the other shoots beside the one you have planted.

“how are things at home now?” you ask.

he shrugs aloofly, an indirect answer that tells you everything you need to know. his gaze settles on the other half of your little summer quartet, who are now in heated debate over the winner of the planting competition. “both of them knew that i didn’t want to go back to my hometown over summer. that’s why san asked if we wanted to come here with him. thanks for letting us stay this summer, y/n. it’s meant a lot to me.”

your heart breaks a little at his words and you nudge him playfully, “stop treating me like i’m the head of namhae. there’ll always be a place here for the both of you.”

he lets out a laugh, a glimpse of his usual self. “we just know how much summers mean to you and san.”

“and meanings can always change for the better,” you counter with a smile.

mingi feels warm from the very inside. for a moment, only you and him exist in this bubble of comfort as you simply gaze at each other. and it doesn’t go unnoticed. yunho stretches his back with a satisfied exhale at san’s admittance of defeat before glancing at the two of you looking nice and cosy in the exact same corner of the paddy field you were working on half an hour ago.

“have you two just been sitting there this whole time?” yunho narrows his eyes as his words draw san’s attention.

“no?” you flimsily say, at the same time mingi confidently declares, “yes.”

the man beside you is back to his usual antics as he giddily fans the fire by gloating, “what are you going to do about it?”

yunho and san glance at each other and you start rising to your feet at the foreboding of danger. they nod.

that’s all the warning you get before they lunge in your direction. as dorky and harmless as the two of them look in their styled outfit of farming pants and straw hats, they are anything but that as yunho and san take frighteningly large steps through the rice paddy with their long legs. and just as your luck would have it, yunho is the one who is closest to you out of the two predators. you hardly think that it’s a fair chase between the tallest and the shortest.

“yun, we can talk this out like adults,” you try to distract him.

whilst you’re struggling for your life to pull your boots out of the squelching mud as fast as you can, yunho easily moves towards you with a devilish grin. you see his outstretched hands, covered in mud, and you decide right there and then that you’re not above begging.

“don’t come any closer! please, i’m sorry! i’m–” your pleads are cut off when he grabs you by the waist and hauls you over his shoulder.

for a brief second, you almost slip right over him face-first into the mud from the momentum and your life flashes before your eyes. but then yunho’s arms flex as he steadily grips your thighs and readjusts your weight, and you resign your fate to his shoulder and his pretty– but grubby– hands.

you twist your head to the side when a husky screech alerts you to victim number two and you find mingi at the mercy of san’s headlock. he rapidly taps the latter’s forearm, yelling mercy as you all burst out into laughter. very soon, the field turns into a playground of childish liveliness as all intentions of farming are tossed to the wind.

mingi was right in saying that summers mean a lot to you and san. but as you all chase and run away from one another around the muddy field, smearing loving handprints of dirt over each other’s faces and clothes, sounds of happiness loud enough that your parents can hear it from back inside the house, summer takes on a new meaning in the shape of you four.

in hindsight, it makes a lot of sense now why san’s parents had knocked on your door earlier this morning, entrusting you with the spare key to their house and waving goodbye as they drove away in their rented campervan. they had let you know that they would be going on a road trip along the coast this summer so that san and his friends could have the house to themselves.

you hadn’t thought much of it– just excitedly counted down the hours until the reunion of your little quartet. yunho had been texting you updates as he, san and mingi finally made the four-hour trip down to namhae now that they were on summer vacation. one of the last texts you had received had been a picture of mingi in the backseat, head lolling and mouth open in deep slumber, with the caption, ‘gonna need to wake sleeping beauty up soon XD we’ll be there in about twenty’.

this time, you had opted to wait for their arrival by sitting on the embankment outside your houses. your legs had dangled off the ledge as you looked out towards the beach, and at the telltale noise of their arrival, you had excitedly hopped up to your feet, only to be met with a sight that had your steps halting in fluster. and oh, this is why san’s parents had decided to yield the house. because this time, not only have the number of surfboards doubled, but so have the number of cars and boys that are suddenly in front of you.

as san turns off the ignition to his jeep, you’re dazedly swept up into a sandwich of hugs between yunho and mingi as they greet you eagerly. it’s good to see them again in the flesh instead of their measly five-inch-tall selves over facetime, and you’d be a little overwhelmed by their height on either side of you– having forgotten just how tall they really are– if your attention isn’t distracted by the opening doors of the banged-up ute behind san’s jeep.

either seoul has water that’s doped with something, or birds of a feather flock together, because each of the three boys that step out are equally as good-looking. you’d be lying if your heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of them. you’re a simple girl with hormones weak for eye candy, after all.

yunho slings an arm around you and walks you a little closer as the new faces turn to look at you with friendly smiles. “this is y/n,” yunho introduces. “and these are our friends, jongho and yeosang.”

you notice that he skips over one of the boys, who starts to open his mouth in complaint, but then yunho continues on, “and this short one is hongjoong. we keep him as our mascot.”

hongjoong gives the taller his middle finger with practised ease and counters, “and we keep you as our tall circus freak.”

the way everyone snickers, yunho and hongjoong included, tells you that this is just about as average an interaction can be. after the boys properly greet themselves and pleasantries are exchanged with you, they decide to unload all their luggage so that they can rest for the afternoon. you walk over to the open boot of the black jeep, reaching for the last duffel and hoisting it into your hands.

before you can so much as take two steps, there’s a hand carefully taking the bag from yours. when you tilt your head up, it’s san’s kind eyes that are gazing back at you. “here, let me do it,” he casually tells you and then he walks towards the open doors of his house.

left with the outline of his back, you have a clear view of his shoulders flexing under his white shirt and you wonder when he started to fill out his clothes with muscle. you become conscious of the way you’re subtly ogling at your best friend, so you shake your head and walk over to the back of the ute instead where there are still a few bags left in the open bed.

there’s a small duffel that looks relatively light. as you drag it closer, you quickly realise it’s heavier than it looks. “what the hell is in this? weights?” you mutter to yourself.

there’s a giggle beside you, “sorry, that’s probably yeosang’s bag. he brings his supplements with him everywhere.”

it’s jongho this time, with his gummy smile and crescent eyes, who takes the bag handles out of your hands. he extends a brown paper bag out to you instead. “we can trade. this is much lighter.”

he easily picks up the bag of supplements and then reaches for a second bag to sling over his shoulder. for the amount of adorableness he exudes from his smile and laugh, the strength that he seems to have is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. as he walks away, there’s the crunch of approaching footsteps and you see that it’s the short boy, hongjoong. he’s only short relative to his friends, because when he comes to stand beside you he’s still easily taller than you.

“maybe you could help me hold this, too.” he’s holding his closed fist out, making it impossible to discern what’s in his hands.

“what is it?” you ask as you open your hand, palm upturned for him to drop whatever he is holding into yours.

except he simply uncurls his fingers and intertwines them with yours, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. a laugh erupts from your throat, only growing in volume when yeosang appears and interrupts by stepping between the two of you, forcing his friend to let go of your hand.

as yeosang grabs the last suitcase and closes the tailgate, he deadpans to the other, “san’s going to chop your hand off when he sees,” then he slings his free arm around hongjoong and ushers the both of you back into the house.

“it’s okay, i wouldn’t let san do that to you,” you reassure.

hongjoong smirks triumphantly at yeosang, only for you to wipe the expression off his face when you finish, “because that’d be animal abuse.”

“it’s been five minutes and you’ve already picked your side,” he laments dramatically, before nodding. “i see how you play. i like you.”

“it’s a shame i don’t,” you quip back immediately.

“fuck, did i just get rejected?”

yeosang shoves his friend through the doorway, “stop digging yourself a deeper hole.”

you all laugh as you shut the front door behind you to stop the cold of the air conditioner that san has turned on from escaping. you’re definitely starting to see the appeal hongjoong’s friends have in teasing him.

you take the bag of snacks still in your hand to the kitchen and you set it on the counter where san is drinking a glass of water. he’s watching the rest of the boys play ‘scissors, paper, rock’ over room allocations now that all their luggage has been piled up in the living room. he raises an arm and you easily slot yourself into his side and slide an arm around his waist. relaxing into the touch of his hand slowly rubbing up and down your arm, you also watch as the boys grow increasingly rowdy with each emerging winner.

you’ve had the fleeting thought before, but now that you’re seeing all the boys together, you realise just how attractive they all well and truly are. even san, you’re slowly starting to notice, does not lack in the face or body department.

“do you guys have a rule where you have to be attractive to be friends or something?” you ask, only half-jokingly. even though you had directed the question at san, it’s not him who answers you.

“aww, stop. you think we’re attractive?” of course hongjoong would be the one to overhear.

immediately, the feistiness in you appears. “yeah, and i’m wondering why they made an exception for you.”

he takes on the jest easily, “god, you’re obsessed with me.”

“you’re right, i’m a little crazy for dogs,” you shoot back, and you can feel the shake of san’s chuckles from next to you.

“good thing i’d bark for you, then.”

“what the fuck, guys?” mingi interrupts, “get a room.”

at that, san steps forward protectively and shoos his friends away, “hurry up and put your bags in the rooms so we can go surfing.”

yunho and yeosang take their bags towards the small guest room down the hall, whilst the remaining three head for san’s room. you turn to san incredulously, “you’re fitting four people in your room?”

he shakes his head, “of course not. i’m going to sleep in haneul’s room. she’s on a trip with her friends for most of the summer.”

“she can stay at mine when she comes back. until you guys have to go back to seoul,” you suggest.

“oh, that’s right. your parents are in yeosu now, aren’t they?”

you nod. you had told san a couple of weeks ago that your parents had moved back to your grandparent’s house for the meantime. they’re not sure how long they will be staying in your hometown for, but considering the deteriorating health of your grandparents and the fact that you are independent enough to take care of yourself, it’ll likely be for a while.

san doesn’t tell you, but that’s part of the reason why he has brought so many of his friends back this summer. he knows that you’re silently struggling to adjust– even if his parents take care of you like their own daughter– so he hopes that he and his friends can fill in some of the silence, even if just for the summer. he wishes it didn’t just have to be summer.

“do you need to change into something else before we go?” he asks you.

you look down at the t-shirt and shorts that you’re wearing. you don’t mind getting them wet, but you can’t say the same about your underclothes. “yeah, i’ll quickly go and change first.”

he nods and watches as you head towards the door to toe on your sandals. when you pull the door open, he gently calls after you, “it’s good to see you again, pipsqueak. i’ve missed you.”

you smile, “i’ve missed you more.”

even after the door closes behind you, san’s smile stays on his face. “i’ve missed you the most.”

no matter how many times you experience the thrill of getting tossed into the ocean, you still cannot fathom the fact that the once short, skinny boy who used to pretend to pick you up is now tall and strong enough to actually do it.

“you cheater!” you screech when you feel san’s arms snake around your waist from behind, lifting you up off your feet. “you said you’d give me a ten-second head start!”

his gleeful laugh rings in your ears as he ignores your flailing limbs and teases, “i did! your little legs are just too slow.”

you start to feel the coolness of waves splashing your ankles and toes the further san carries you out away from shore and your grip on his forearm tightens in anticipation. with a slight swing, he lets go of your waist and tosses you into the water. the next thing you know when you regain your balance and wipe the water from your face is the sound of san’s yelp as he disappears underwater. jongho grins from above, having leapt onto the older’s back, who in turn has crumpled under the unsuspecting weight.

san emerges with a hulk-like roar absolutely soaked to the bone, his black t-shirt clinging to his torso. the clear outlines of his chest and broad shoulders set off an unfamiliar skip in your heart yet again, and san lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his face– revealing his abs in all of their wonder– does the complete opposite of calming you down.

you're fucked. there's no way you're attracted to san like that. in the form of petty revenge, said man brings his hands down to slap the surface of the water, splashing it right in your face and jongho’s and…yeah, that flutter of butterflies is gone.

san is caught right in the middle of the crossfire as you and jongho splash him, drowning his figure in torrential rain. the sounds of his choked laughter draw the attention of everyone else too, who have no idea why san is the target but are more than willing to join in. but with the plethora of water being splashed and the chaos of hands coming from every possible direction, the three of you end up drowning under the attacks.

hongjoong quickly loses motivation when his arms grow tired from doggy-paddling the water and yunho and yeosang’s attempts also slow down. they snicker at the aftermath– your trio absolutely drenched– and then rapidly skitter away before any of you decide to retaliate in vengeance.

at their cowardice, san bites the bait and goes hollering after them, leaving you with the youngest of your group of friends. jongho beckons towards the shore with his head and you’re momentarily distracted by his wet bangs falling over his forehead and eyebrows.

“up for more surfing?” he grins at you. and if there’s one thing you’ve learnt over the summer, it’s that you would kill for jongho if he asked you with his gummy smile.

jongho is a surprisingly good surfer. as the only one in the group who grew up in seoul with limited exposure to the beach, you can hardly tell that he’s a relative beginner in comparison to the rest of the boys unless you were a surfer yourself.

once they had become their close-knit group and they realised that most of them had a shared love for surfing, they had colloquially formed their own little surfer’s club, knighting jongho as their honorary member. he learnt to surf in indoor centres, during the occasional beach road trips they would make and through the experienced guidance of his friends.

of all six surfboards they had brought to namhae, jongho’s softboard is the one that is the most ideal for you to learn with. true to his words, yunho had attempted to teach you how to surf but on his own board– a shortboard great for experienced surfers to catch steep and aggressive waves, but terribly hard for a beginner to control. jongho had offered his board and so under his and yunho’s careful hands, you had spent your summer practising on the beach before slowly transitioning into the water.

which is where you find yourself now, on your stomach as you slowly paddle out. jongho stands close by and waist-deep in the shallow waters of the spot that he has led you to where the waves are few and calm. just a couple of metres away, yeosang idly straddles his longboard as he watches in support.

“you remember how to push through the waves?” jongho checks and you nod, gripping the rails of the surfboard and straightening your arms to lift your torso upwards.

“yeah, hang on,” he says, moving closer. jongho rests his hand gently on the small of your back to steady your body and you have to focus on what he’s telling you instead of the feeling of his warm hand. he taps the sides of the board a few inches in front of where your grip currently is.

“hold it here, otherwise your centre of gravity is too far back,” he explains as you shift your hands forward. “the board might end up tipping backwards when you go through the wave.”

you retry the movement with the new positioning and jongho nods in satisfaction, removing his hand and stepping back again.

“there’s a wave coming in we could try,” yeosang suggests.

the slight swell of a forming wave starts to appear in the horizon. it doesn’t increase much in size the closer it gets, but as it reaches its peak height, the top breaks and turns into a whitewater wave. yeosang is out a little further and so he demonstrates how to push through first, lifting his torso above the break as his surfboard cuts through the wave.

“okay, ready? hold steady, steady,” jongho encourages, helping you time the movement, “and push up!”

you follow his call and straighten your arms to lift your upper body out of the wave’s trajectory, guiding the nose of your surfboard through at the same time that jongho dives under the wave. although your face still gets splashed with some water and your board trembles slightly in your grasp, you make it through the wave without tipping over.

“i did it!” you yell, shakily sliding yourself further up your board so that you can straddle it.

“you did it!” the boys respond excitedly.

jongho jumps up and down beside your board, prompting yeosang to slide into the water to join your side. you laugh brightly at the sense of achievement and at the sight of the two boys bobbing around you in a merry-go-round of exuberance.

“just a little more practice and you’ll be taking on the monster swells in no time,” yeosang declares. you know he’s exaggerating, but it makes pride bloom in your chest regardless.

somebody calls out your names and you all turn to look. it’s san standing near the waters, gesturing behind him as he yells, “we’re going to walk to the mart to get some ice cream. do you guys want to come?”

“yes!” you shout back, “wait for me!”

ungraciously tumbling off your surfboard in a hurry so that you can pull it back to shore, the boys chuckle at your eagerness. jongho grabs his board from out of your grasp so that he can carry it instead and the boys all trail behind you as you bound past san towards the pile of your belongings on the sand. while you sift through the heap for your sandals, your other hand subconsciously peels your clinging shirt away from your body. you feel the presence of someone coming up behind you and assuming it’s san, you straighten your back with a phone in your hand.

“san, you left your ph–” you start, except it’s yeosang, who bends down to pick up his towel and drapes it around you. it’s warm from the hours it’s spent in the sun and you can’t help the pleasant shiver that runs through your body. yeosang tugs it snugly over your shoulders and then takes the phone from your hand.

“here,” he tosses it to its owner, who falls into step behind you.

san nods his head in thanks and rummages under a towel where your sandals have been hiding before placing your shoes by your feet. “the ground’s pretty hot,” he says as he offers you his forearm to steady yourself with, patiently waiting for you to do up the buckles around your ankle.

“wait, i forgot my wallet,” you tell him once jongho and yeosang rejoin you after putting their surfboards away.

“don’t worry about it,” san reassures, “hongjoong’s buying.”

your ears perk up and he laughs because he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “yes, y/n. bleed him dry and order whatever you want."

"even a double–no, even a triple scoop?" you exclaim scandalously.

san's eyes drip adoration, "yes, even a triple scoop."

you run ahead with a cheer, blabbering jongho’s ear off about how if you get three different flavours and he also gets three different flavours, then you guys get to share six flavours, before yeosang joins in with excited chatter about how you guys can make it nine flavours if he does the same. you catch up with the rest of your friends and somehow, like a devilish cult, you all start to chant, “bleed hongjoong dry! bleed hongjoong dry!”

the oldest jokes that he only offered to pay for yours, not everybody’s, so mingi starts to tell you what he wants so that you can order in his stead, setting off a chain reaction as everyone else places their orders through you. they surround you, happy jostles and raucous snickers as you disappear in the middle of the group.

from behind, as san watches you grow closer and closer with his friends each summer, he can’t help but feel like he’s going to burst from affection and pride. he knows it will be a while until your parents move back to namhae, as is the same for himself until he graduates. but between his group of six– which will hopefully become the full eight next summer– and the group chat that you all made within hours of meeting each other, san is confident that you’ll never feel alone.

“if only wooyoung was here, then we’d have someone to grill the meat properly,” yeosang muses as he watches jongho flip and examine the packaging of the beef. “he’s the best cook out of us.”

“trust him to be a good cook, too,” you comment.

when you had first met yeosang, jongho and hongjoong, they had told you that there were two other friends who weren’t able to make it to namhae with the rest of them this summer. one of them was wooyoung, who naturally became part of the group after attending the same dance club as yunho, mingi and san. wooyoung had then been paired up with jongho during an inter-department project between the department of film & multimedia and the department of drama, growing close to the younger and by extension, to hongjoong, a senior in jongho’s drama society.

their other friend was seonghwa, they had told you; the oldest in their group and also in the year above like hongjoong. however, seonghwa attends a completely different university along with yeosang, the both of them undertaking a degree in education at seoul national university. they share some senior classes together, as yeosang had transferred from a law degree and had some of the credit prerequisites to jump ahead. and since yeosang is a close family friend of wooyoung’s, the three of them gradually became well-acquainted with each other.

it’s a running joke that you don’t need to remember how everybody knows each other– you just need to know that wooyoung is the common factor between them all, the person who decided that all of his friends should be friends with each other. so not only is wooyoung a social butterfly, seemingly charming and witty with good looks– should the boys’ track record stay true– but apparently he’s a good cook too. some people really just have it all.

“what else do we need?” jongho asks, haphazardly placing a few packets of the meat into the shopping cart he’s pushing.

“mingi said it would be good to make smores at the end of the night,” you answer.

last summer, during the final week that mingi, yunho and san were in namhae, you had all decided to have a barbeque feast and then spend the rest of the night huddled around a small campfire on the shores of the beach. it had been one of your favourite memories, simply basking in the peaceful buzz of summer and slowing your lives down just for one night to do nothing. you had suggested turning it into a tradition, and now that the final week of this summer has arrived, you’re all at one of the few grocery stores in namhae to stock up on food, snacks and drinks for the night.

“let’s see if they have marshmallows, then,” jongho makes a move to walk away.

hongjoong suddenly interrupts the conversation, appearing with an empty trolley in front of him. “get in,” he tells you.

yeosang helpfully points out, “that sounds like something a man with a tinted white van would say,” at the same time you question, “are we even allowed to do that?”

he beams, “i like to think that until somebody tells us we’re not allowed to do something, we are allowed to do it.”

“i can think of fifteen different reasons right now why that’s terrible life advice.”

the man simply nudges your side with the end of his trolley and you half-heartedly frown, “i’m really hoping this seonghwa friend is more responsible than you are, seeing as he’s older.”

“i hate to break it to you, but seonghwa’s worse,” jongho grimaces. “maturity ages backwards in this group, unfortunately.”

at jongho’s words, you turn to look for yunho, hoping that as the next oldest down the line he can talk some sense into hongjoong. only you’re met with the sight of the overgrown man pushing his own shopping cart with a very cramped but happy mingi sitting inside.

you sense defeat when hongjoong nudges you once more. “i can’t believe i’m doing this,” you mutter to yourself as he holds it steady for you to climb into. after all, you think, what’s life without breaking a few rules?

except nothing prepares you for the absolute madness that unfolds the moment your bottom touches the cold, metal gridding of the trolley. hongjoong quite literally revs the handlebar with engine sound effects, before charging through the aisle at full speed in an apparent race against yunho and his passenger princess. you hold on to for dear life, thinking that this will be over once you reach the end of the aisle. but both racers show no signs of stopping, instead drifting with sharp cornering into the next aisle as you screech. half of you is terrified, but the other half of you is starting to seek the thrill.

“faster, joong! faster!” you goad when you can see san standing at the end of the frozen section, waving an imaginary chequered flag.

both carts rattle past him in a close match, and as opposed as you were to the idea at first, you argue passionately against the honorary referee and the rival team over who won first place. even jongho and yeosang pick a side and claim that their eyes– from three aisles over– are as trustworthy as VAR playback.

it’s no surprise when the ruckus you’re all making gets a store manager sent your way. but by some saving grace, most likely the begrudging understanding that everyone has done this exact thing at one point or another growing up, the store does not kick you out. they let you finish shopping for the supplies you need, but not without the glares of the retail workers following you and your friends regardless of which aisle you try to duck and disappear behind.

with hushed giggles and not-so-subtle elbows in each other’s sides, your group hurriedly pays and places the multitude of plastic bags back into the trolley. san and jongho take one of the trolleys each and you all walk back to the cars to load the shopping. you would think that a scolding would deter any further misbehaviour, but when you all see the relatively empty parking lot, there’s only shared smiles of deviousness and glints of mischief.

if anyone were to look at the parking lot outside the grocery store that tuesday morning, they would see a group of seven friends, clad in an eyesore disarray of sweatpants, shorts, pajama tops and slippers, pushing each other around in shopping carts like bumper cars with shrieks of joy, circling around the dusty jeep and banged-up ute that has become an enabler of their connection and happiness.

you may all be doing the very things that your older selves will look back on with exasperated smiles and disapproving head shakes in ten years. but in the moment, you are unafraid; uncaring of what others think, because you have your friends by your side. and this, you think to yourself, is the essence of youth and summer.

you wish you were older. because being older means that you’ll have graduated, and being graduated means that you won’t have to fucking study for your fucking exams. you let out a groan and drop your head onto the table, making an audible thump when your forehead misses the thick textbooks and scattered notes, and hits the solid surface instead.

“hey, you need those brain cells,” someone gently chides. haneul stands at the doorway to your bedroom, watching your misery with a fond smile.

“can’t lose what i don’t have,” you mumble back.

“take a break,” she suggests. “do you want me to get you something from the bakery?”

haneul laughs when your head immediately turns to look at her, your left cheek pressed against the table by the cheeky smile that adorns your face. she chuckles again, “got it. i’ll be back.”

you absent-mindedly listen as the lock of your front door clicks shut and then let out a deep sigh at the silence that follows. it’s been a few hours since you first sat down and started studying but it feels like you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again with no progress. pressing your forehead into the table again, you groan in frustration.

your ringtone goes off and your hand blindly fumbles around for your phone, sliding what you’re relatively sure is the answer button. “yeah?” you say into the receiver.

“someone’s a little grumpy today,” a teasing voice sounds.

“hwa?” you sit up instantly, looking at your phone properly.

it is him, not only blessing you with the deep richness of his voice but also the visual of him in a black tank top as he looks amusedly at the facetime you have answered. “are you still studying?” he asks.

you deflate a little, reminded of why you’ve been creating a crater in your table with your head for the past ten minutes. “mhm,” you hum affirmatively. “except nothing’s going into my brain anymore.”

“sounds like you need a break.”

“that’s exactly what haneul said,” you grumble, although you’re not entirely sure why you’re so opposed to their suggestions to stop studying.

“because we’re right,” he quirks his eyebrow. “what’s haneul doing at yours, anyway?”

“taking advantage of my netflix while i slave away to pass my exams. but she’s forgiven since she’s buying me snacks.”

“then take a break until she gets back and you finish eating. it’ll only be an hour, tops,” seonghwa convinces. “i’ll even set an alarm to let us know when time is up and i’ll keep you company when you study.”

you sag a little into your chair, shoulders relieving of their tension as you concede, which makes him smile sympathetically, “just a few more weeks to go until summer and then you’ll be free.”

“are you taking up summer school again?” you ask.

after san had added you and all the boys into a combined group chat, you had made friends with the two that you didn’t get to meet. you discovered seonghwa hadn’t been able to make the trip to namhae last year because he had chosen to take summer school instead. he had wanted to complete some of his degree requirements earlier in hopes of working part-time during his final year to gain practical experience. wooyoung, on the other hand, had had a portfolio due for his film class that required the majority of his summer if he wanted to complete it in time.

seonghwa grimaces at the memory, “no, not this time. it was a mistake, honestly. i burnt out so fast the first semester back that i didn’t even end up applying for any jobs.” he points a stern finger at you and warns, “don’t ever think about doing summer school.”

“trust me,” you laugh, “i have no intentions of ever doing that.”

you appreciate his advice regardless, because as immature as the other boys had made him out to be, seonghwa really does look out for all of you as the oldest of the group. and more often than not, you find yourself gravitating towards him when you need comfort or reassurance. “does that mean i’ll finally get to meet you?”

seonghwa nods, “woo as well.”

the screen of your phone suddenly splits to make room for an additional video as somebody joins the call. you hear his voice before his video even buffers. speak of the devil.

“oi! why are you all calling without me?” wooyoung complains.

contrary to the roll of your eyes, a smile makes its way across your face as you respond, “we’re literally calling from the group chat. no one’s leaving you out of anything.”

and as if his appearance is some sort of talisman, more of the boys start to join the call one by one. even hongjoong’s profile picture appears, camera off and on mute, wanting to feel included even if he’s in the middle of class. yunho and mingi pop up from behind wooyoung, so you’re guessing they’re busy practising in the studio. you wonder where san is.

someone asks you a question about how your exams are going, but you’re momentarily distracted by the buzzing notification of a text. “hang on,” you mumble, “let me just…reply to this.”

it’s one of your classmates, johnny, asking whether you’re home right now. you had accidentally slept through one of the review lectures earlier in the week and he had offered to give you a copy of his notes. from his text message, it appears he’s close by and able to drop them off now. you reply an affirmative and then click back into the video call, asking, “sorry, what were you saying?”

the drone of shared chatter about exams and the upcoming break fills the silence of your bedroom, like the fluttering breeze of a pleasant spring day. if they were not already so closely correlated to the warm, golden rays and salty spray of the summer ocean, your friends would be spring– the season of fresh air, blooming flowers and thriving vitality.

“someone looks happier. who are you talking to?” haneul emerges in your bedroom having come back from the bakery, holding a pastry box.

you didn’t even realise you were subconsciously smiling. “i’m facetiming the boys.”

she smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as she waggles her eyebrows suggestively and drags out her words, “i see. so who is it that you like? or is it all of them?”

“quit it!” you pretend to shove her. “want to say hi?” you turn the screen of your phone in her direction and there’s a chorus of obedient hi haneul’s as you turn up the volume.

she waves and peers at wooyoung’s video. “where’s the baby brat?”

from somewhere within the call, san yells out indignantly, “stop calling me that!” there’s a slight rustle as he walks closer to take the phone out of wooyoung’s grasp and when you peer to have a look, you can see that he’s sweaty and red-faced from finishing up a routine.

“you still respond to it, so,” haneul shrugs.

she disregards her brother’s continued complaints to drop the box onto your table along with a neatly-stapled stack of handwritten notes. “i bumped into johnny outside and he said this was for you,” she explains as you take it gratefully.

at the mention of a boy’s name, wooyoung shoves his nose towards his front camera. he rapidly asks, “who’s johnny? is he haneul’s boyfriend or what? why’s he giving you something?”

even hongjoong flicks a message into the group chat to ask, ‘who tf is jonny’.

you hold up the paper to show the boys and laugh, “he’s my classmate, guys. and he gave me notes because i missed the lecture.”

wooyoung frowns at your answer, clearly dissatisfied as he complains, “why is he giving you notes. and–what the fuck? did he hand write them? what a pretentious prick.”

you ignore him in favour of opening the pastry box to see what else haneul brought back for you. “how did you know i love these?” you exclaim.

she gives you that same, mischievous look from earlier and as she starts to exit your bedroom to leave you to your call and sweet treat, she vaguely answers, “how do you think?”

from over your phone, the others start to ask what you’ve got in the box, allowing a certain boy to easily slip unnoticed into the background. but it doesn’t take a detective to work out how– or perhaps you should say, who– told haneul about your recent cravings.

because if there’s one person who knows you the best, one person who takes notice of even the littlest of things, then it would be him.

hongjoong lightly slaps your thigh in retaliation as your laughter jostles his head that’s resting on your stomach, which only serves to make you laugh even harder. he lifts his head to grumble, “stop encouraging him, y/n. he’s going to think he’s actually funny or something.”

with a shaky exhale, you wipe a stray tear away, because you don’t think you’ve ever laughed this hard in your entire life. now that you see their whole group dynamic in action with the complete eight of them, it’s like watching a live sitcom.

wooyoung looks at him with a smug expression…then proceeds to yank the older’s sock right off his foot before throwing it into oblivion. hongjoong jolts up and dives for him and they immediately tussle about on the floor of san’s living room. amidst all of the commotion, san sneakily goes for seonghwa’s socks and you’re glad that you had peeled yours off the moment you had walked through the front door because suddenly everyone’s socks are a target.

the successful harvests that are tossed away are immediately snatched up by mingi, who hurls them under the table, behind the couch and on top of the television. you think you can see one dangling off the lights too, but you’re not about to snitch. jongho joins the corner you have taken refuge in and yeosang follows soon after, content to stay far away from the havoc that has quickly turned into wrestling. unfortunately, wooyoung is unable to let the three of you watch the world burn peacefully. he yells at the boys, who choose this to be the time to actually listen to him for once, and you’re all left scrabbling in different directions when they dive for you three.

it’s only the first day of summer and the second hour of officially meeting the boys as their full group of eight, but you can already tell that the next few months are going to be filled with absolute chaos and mayhem. and so the summer that marks san’s third visit back to namhae passes by quickly as you and the eight boys fall into an easy routine. hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. summer revolves around each other and there is never a moment spent apart.

you join the boys at dawn every day, clad in only a pair of shorts, a tank top and a light cardigan to shoulder because there’s still a slight nip of the early morning before the sun appears. you watch contentedly as they dance with the ocean on their surfboards– a duet of paddling out into the deeper waters and catching the breaks of the swells back towards shore.

the more you watch them surf, the more you start to realise just how much san has improved. you still recall the day san had fallen in love with the way the surfer used his own body and surfboard as an extension of the ocean, and you still have early memories of san’s lanky limbs flailing as he lost his balance over and over again, trying to replicate the same gracefulness. now, san is not just a dancer– he is the choreographer; the one who controls the ocean under his board.

as the early morning wears on, the serene crash of waves and intermittent squawk of the soaring seagulls are gradually interspersed with the boys’ rings of joy as they become more interested in pushing each other off their boards and splashing each other, rather than surfing itself. the strongest trio easily overpower everyone else and you shake your head fondly when the others don’t learn their lesson regardless of how many times they are suplexed underwater.

when the sun starts to wake up, they join you on the sandy shores, surfboards placed in a rough row so that you can all share them like seats. you lean against whoever is sitting beside you and watch the sunrise until your stomachs start to growl for attention.

greasy takeaway is always the foolproof solution. you share hearty burgers that are too tall to bite into and salty fries that are slathered in dipping sauce, sprawled out on the cool floorboards at san’s or yours, soaking in the refreshing coldness of the air conditioner on high without a care in the world for the electricity bill that is racking up.

afternoons are for the second round of the meal; bingsoo from the cafe, pastries from the nearby bakery or cheap ice cream from the mart. and after all the food, the best way to digest before you go out again at dusk to catch some of the waves is to take a nap.

the giant puppy pile of tangled limbs and human pillows is arguably your favourite part of the day. even if the ends of jongho’s hair tickles your nose and your arm goes a little numb from the way san hugs it and your neck feels cramped from resting on seonghwa’s shoulder, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

sometimes, when you’re all feeling rejuvenated, you’ll clamber into their three cars or happily pack yourselves into two and drive down the coast to one of the other beaches. the drive there is music blasting and scratchy singing at the top of your lungs with the windows rolled down, your flyaway hairs caressing the cheeks of the boys beside you. it’s rest stops to fill up on drinks and dessert– any excuse for more ice cream and a chance to make hongjoong’s wallet cry.

the trip back, on the other hand, is quiet, the designated drivers pressing softly on the pedals and turning with care so as not to jostle the sleeping passengers. you’re all exhausted and passed out against one another, faces pressed against a shoulder or the crown of someone’s head. slow music plays lowly in the background as the streetlights start to turn on like a warm greeting to welcome your group home.

and just as yeosang had once said, wooyoung is a good cook. dinner time becomes a bonding activity– as if every second of summer isn’t already a bonding moment– where you all experiment with different and increasingly complicated recipes. it usually ends up with him and seonghwa actually doing the cooking whilst everyone else eats the ingredients and tries not to accidentally stab someone with the knives, and dinner doesn’t usually actually become dinner until eight or nine o’clock.

but it doesn’t really matter when, half the time, the post-meal conversations turn into a slumber party after time slips away. if you retire early, you’ll sometimes be joined by haneul in your bedroom, who has stayed in namhae this summer. she’ll spill her workplace tea and you’ll gossip about your college peers late until the stars have long started to twinkle in the sky.

there are no scheduled bedtimes, no proper mealtimes, no time limits to complete things nor niggling guilt not to complete things– there is no formal routine. but when spontaneity and carefreeness become the everyday occurrence, that becomes the routine.

and as with any sort of routine comes the familiarity. familiarity finds itself in the way san sing-songs wake up, sleepyhead whenever you accidentally sleep in, and instead of shying under the covers at the sight of him in your bedroom, you whine for five more minutes. familiarity finds itself in the way yunho’s hands hover around the small of your back whenever you’re all walking to the mart for snacks and in the way wooyoung immediately reaches for the flavours he knows you like.

familiarity finds itself in the way you and hongjoong will bare puppy teeth at each other one moment then naturally use the other as a human pillow the next. it’s in the way jongho hides you when san tries to throw you into the water; the way mingi tucks your head into his shoulder when he spins you around in a hug; when seonghwa reminds you to reapply sunscreen whilst dotting the lotion along your cheeks and when yeosang quietly drapes you in his jackets after you get out of the water.

but the thing with familiarity, though, is that it’s easy for it to overshadow other things. rather than realising that there is a shift in dynamic or a change in heart, other growing feelings can be mistaken for familiarity instead. and you don’t understand this until you least expect it.

your hands fumble to catch the bottle of sunscreen that yunho has thrown in your direction before it ends up landing on yeosang’s face. he’s taking a nap on the towel next to you, disputing against everyone else’s remarks that he should take the opportunity to surf considering you’ve all made the two-hour trip to dadaepo beach.

you adjust the small umbrella that he brought along so that it covers his upper body, then uncap the bottle and lather the sunscreen over your arms and legs. it’s when you get to your back that you realise you won’t be able to reach all of your skin. san or seonghwa are usually around to help if you decide to forgo a cropped shirt over your bikini top, but they’re already running far along the shore and you can’t be troubled to yell out for one of them.

you’re starting to wonder whether you can get away with not applying sunscreen on your back if you just make sure you lie on it the whole time when hongjoong spots your plight in the form of a blank stare and squeezed lotion in the palm of your hand.

“your short arms can’t reach your back, can they?”

you imitate his laughter with an exaggerated tone, “who was it that needed my help yesterday putting sunscreen on his back?”

“maybe i just didn’t want you to feel too bad about yourself,” he shrugs and walks over to swipe the glob of sunscreen out of your hands. you roll your eyes, knowing fully well he’s incapable of taking care of you without pretending to cover it up with an insult.

“stop squirming,” he chides. the contrasting cold of the lotion and warmth of his hand sends a shiver down your spine and you try not to dwell on his gentle rubs for too long. he’s meticulous in making sure he doesn’t miss a spot, but he’s also careful and deliberate with his touch around the knotted strings of your top so that you don’t feel uncomfortable. hongjoong and the word ‘uncomfortable’ could never be in the same sentence though. but he doesn’t need to know that.

“there,” he pats your back twice like a mechanic would with the hood of a fucking car to signal that he’s finished his job and then callously walks away.

you decide to let him off the hook and settle down on your stomach to rest your eyes for a bit. yeosang knows what he’s doing, because the combined warmth of the sand beneath your towel and from the overhead rays makes you drowsy almost immediately.

you’re flicking your salt-crusted hair out of your face when a voice interrupts, “hi, i’m sorry to bother you.”

lifting your head up to look, you’re met with the sight of a girl around your age, timidly fiddling with the popsocket on her phone. you sit up and give her a polite smile, “that’s okay. can i help you?”

“um, i was just hoping to ask if he has a girlfriend?”

the boys are all scattered along the length of the beach, save for yeosang next to you, so you’re not entirely sure who the girl is referring to until you follow her finger. she’s pointing in the direction of hongjoong, who’s joined some of the others along the shore.

“the short one?” you clarify, smile fading a little as you shrug, “i’m not too sure, sorry.”

the girl shakes her head, “oh, no. i meant the boy on his left.”

choi san. you now fight to keep the smile on your face friendly when you reply, “not that i know of.”

the girl thanks you excitedly, walking off back to her group of friends who immediately huddle around her to hear your answer. you look away.

you don’t realise you’re staring at san until he turns in the distance and makes eye contact with you. his entire face lights up, eyes disappearing and shadowed dimples revealing themselves under the gleaming sun. wooyoung takes the opportunity whilst san is distracted to swing a handful of limp seaweed straight into san’s face and a laugh escapes you before you can hold it in. your best friend looks more betrayed by your laughter than by wooyoung’s antics.

the younger turns to look at you with pride and when he sees that you’re laughing, he blows you an exaggerated kiss and sends it flying in your direction with a teasing flurry of his hand. yunho charges in from out of absolutely nowhere and pretends to tackle the kiss mid-air, throwing the imaginary show of affection into the sand where hongjoong immediately joins in and stomps on it with his foot, before sending you a flying kiss of his own instead.

chaos ensues and both hongjoong and yunho run for their lives as wooyoung chases them with his deadly seaweed whip. he quickly realises that the taller of the two will be impossible to catch, so he locks in on the easier target and hongjoong screeches in fear.

you can’t help but shake your head adoringly as you continue to watch, eyes landing on san once more when the cat and mouse go tearing past him in a whirlwind of sand. san holds your gaze with a fond smile of his own and you have to remind yourself that it’s normal for the boys to have suitors.

you’re not dating san. you’re not dating hongjoong. you’re not dating any of the boys, and they’re certainly not yours. so then, why does it feel like they are? but most of all, why does your heart feel equally bitter at the thought of someone asking about any of the boys…not just your best friend?

the sight of the tube of aloe vera gel in the fridge– likely placed there by seonghwa– is a welcome sight. you had diligently reapplied sunscreen to your body with the boys’ constant reminders to reapply but you had carelessly forgotten about your face. you’re paying the price of your mistake now and the red skin across the apples of your cheeks and forehead is tight with a constant, dull throb.

grabbing the tube, you walk into the bathroom where hongjoong is currently blow-drying his hair, having callen dibs on the shower after the beach trip.

“hey, lil’ tomato,” he jests before he gets a good look at your face. “woah, that looks worse than it was an hour ago.”

you hum as you peer closer into the mirror, “this is probably the worst sunburn i’ve ever gotten before.”

hongjoong ruffles the back of his hair one last time under the dryer before unplugging it and setting it on the rack. he slips the tube of ointment out of your hands and then turns you by the shoulders to face him. that’s how you find yourself between hongjoong’s front and the porcelain sink, the edge of the countertop digging slightly into your lower back as you watch him squeeze a generous amount of aloe vera onto the tip of his finger.

he murmurs, “hold still.” with a light touch, he tilts your chin up so that he can see the angry skin of your face. the stark contrast between the characteristic roughness of his edges and the tenderness with which he applies the soothing gel on your face right now has you itching to tease him.

“admit it. you like taking care of me, don’t you.”

he rolls his eyes, “and you like being taken care of, don’t you. like when you needed your notes handwritten by johnny.”

ever since that one incident, the boys have never let you hear the end of it. they may not realise it themselves either, but really, they’re just trying to keep low tabs on this…classmate. even if the way they go about it reflects the emotional maturity of somebody half their actual age.

“i admit it’s nice to be taken care of. what about you, huh?” you challenge, poking his side testingly. “you like taking care of me, don’t you?”

you giggle when he squirms and you try it again to elicit another response, until he suddenly grabs your hand by the wrist.

“and so what if i do?” his words come out easily, but unlike the usual cockiness and flirtatiousness that he jokes around with, his tone is low and serious.

you don’t respond because you don’t know what to respond; you’re suddenly walking in uncharted territory– both in regards to his feelings and your own.

when his fingertips brush the area of your cheeks just below your under-eyes, you can’t help the instinctive flutter of your lashes. his eyes stare into yours and you swallow, noticing the way his gaze flickers down to follow the movement. there’s hunger in his pupils and longing in your chest. you don’t move away when he moves closer in.

your eyelids flutter closed once again, except this time in anticipation. his hands still cup your cheek and hold your wrist and when he brings his face down towards yours, you can feel the warmth of his body surrounding and intoxicating you. but as his nose starts to nudge the softness of your cheeks, hongjoong pulls away.

“sorry, i–this was a mistake. i shouldn’t be doing this,” he stutters. and just like that, the moment shatters.

“th–that’s okay,” you awkwardly smile. “this never happened.”

he nods without looking at you, “this never happened.”

you’re glad your face is sunburnt because you’re certain your face would be glowing from the embarrassment and shame you are overwhelmed with. hongjoong turns around before you can say anything else and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone.

quickly, you lock the door and then stand there stunned into a stupor. because his…whatever the fuck that was, has given you startling clarity that he is right. you shouldn’t be doing this. you shouldn’t be kissing him when you want san and your six other friends equally as much.

and most of all, it was foolish of you to assume that he actually wanted something more than friendship. if hongjoong, the most flirtatious of them all, doesn’t have any romantic interest in you– or at the very least enough to want to pursue something more– then what makes you think you have a chance with any of the boys? what makes you think that any of them– much less all of them– would want you in the same way that you have now realised you want them?

in a way, your heart feels more at ease now. knowing that your feelings for the boys will be unfruitful one way or another, it’s much easier to ignore the now obvious lurch in your heart whenever they pull you into an easy hug or tell you that you look pretty. it’s easier to repress the longing you have for them when they help you put on sunscreen or surround your house with mischief and laughter.

you can’t tell whether hongjoong is actively avoiding you or whether he is conveniently busy with the other boys, but you suppose time apart right now is good for the both of you. after all, time is supposed to heal everything. and so even as the end of summer approaches and the much anticipated night of the barbeque and campfire tradition arrives, you keep your distance from hongjoong and he keeps his. simply two friends coexisting within the larger group of friends; nothing more, nothing less.

you’re all sitting on a patchwork of picnic blankets and beach towels spread around the small fire that san has constructed, now experienced from having made one three years in a row. haneul shares the towel with you on one side and yunho on your other.

dinner had been greasy meat grilled by wooyoung’s skilled hands paired with cheap alcohol that made you all wince when it went down. it had been finished off with skewered marshmallows– the most vital part of the night, as mingi had fervently reminded everyone.

someone had then suggested a round of ‘truth or dare’, which most definitely did not stop at one round. the flushed cheeks and tipsy slurs not only made the dares increasingly bizarre, but it made everyone daring enough to actually do them. as the night had continued on, the outlandish dares slowly trickled off and more of you picked to answer truth questions. with the mellowing ambience of the campfire and the clearing buzz of alcohol in your systems, it was only a matter of time before the night fizzled into calm.

“mingi,” haneul directs her question at the taller, “ if you were to date one of us excluding me, who would it be?”

his eyes dart from her to you and then to every single one of his friends. “i’d date you all,” he shrugs. “but if i had to pick one person, then probably yunho, since he’s been there for me from day one.”

yunho knocks shoulders with him appreciatively whilst joking, “your parents would love to hear that answer.”

you spot san and wooyoung cringing at the thought and you’re reminded of snippets of a conversation about surfing as a distraction and escape from home.

moving the game on, mingi asks seonghwa when he picks truth, “if you had to pick between love and friendship, which one would it be?”

seonghwa hums for a while, watching the dancing lick of flames. “i think it depends on the situation, because in the end, they’re not that much different from each other. in love there is friendship, and in friendship there is love. it’s impossible to say that one is more important than the other.”

there’s a collective boo as he skirts around the question, but you all understand where he’s coming from. it still doesn’t stop san from retorting, “the whole point is to pick one.”

seonghwa chuckles and downs half a shot to appease the other of his apparent half answer, then tosses the same question at him. “what about you, then?”

much to his disappointment, san actually has an answer.

“i would probably choose love. i think you’re right in saying you can’t separate love and friendship, but the thing that sets a romantic relationship apart is being in love,” he muses. “it’s hard to find friends you love, but it’s even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, so i would probably hold onto that no matter what.”

a few of you subconsciously nod along, words resonating with yourselves. haneul nudges you curiously, “what do you think?”

you relax into her side as you slowly formulate a cohesive answer from your thoughts. “i think i would choose love, too. i’ll admit it’s a much more difficult relationship than friendship and it often requires sacrifices to be made…it can even mean having to let go of somebody completely.”

hongjoong glances at you, guilt pricking at his chest.

“but at the same time,” you continue, “when you love somebody that much, sacrifice becomes something you want to give and are willing to offer to the other person, and you develop a depth of understanding, connection and intimacy strong enough to overcome anything that isn’t always possible with friendship.”

“you and san are both such gross romantics,” haneul pretends to gag.

“yeah, shoot us for it,” you poke her in the side. “wooyoung, truth or dare?”

“since everyone’s picking truth…truth.”

“who’s someone you’re sorry towards or thankful for?”

he whines indignantly, “why are we suddenly getting so personal,” but proceeds to think about his answer seriously. “if i’m honest, i’m sorry towards everyone. i know there are times i fall short as a friend and make mistakes, but you all always forgive me and embrace my imperfections so graciously. sometimes it makes me wonder if i even deserve you guys.”

there are immediate noises of protest and wooyoung smiles, waving away their words of objection because he knows that he’s wrong. it’s just that knowing doesn’t always stop him from feeling a certain way. “and of course, what i’m sorry for goes hand in hand with what i’m thankful for. but i’m also especially thankful for y/n,” he reveals.

your body reacts instantly to his unexpected answer, blood rushing towards your cheeks and ears as he looks at you appreciatively.

“i haven’t known you for as long as most of the other boys, but i’ve seen how happy and vibrant they are whenever they return to seoul or whenever they talk about you. and i can definitely see why, now. you make them happy–you make us happy.”

mingi clears his throat, jumping in to add to the younger’s answer, “when i’m here in namhae with you, with everybody, it feels like home.”

a home that he’s never really had until yunho, san, you, and the rest of the boys came along.

“so thank you for giving me a home here,” mingi looks at you earnestly.

if he were sitting closer, you would reach over and squeeze his hand reassuringly. instead, you tell him, “no matter how many years go by, you’ll always have a home here.”

“and the rest of us?” yunho jokes, lightly slapping your knee where your legs have slowly made their way into his lap over the night.

“you all have a home here,” you amend. because namhae is not the same without san, and namhae is not the same without the rest of your friends, either.

you continue asking each other questions, even after midnight has long ticked past and haneul has retired back to the beach house for some sleep. nobody wants the night to end, because despite already having been attached to each other’s hips all summer, the time you are spending now around the campfire is different. life slows down and the nine of you are the only ones to exist along with the stars and the ocean waves.

“you know what we should do?” wooyoung pipes up when you are all quietly watching the fire. he grins, “we should do that thing where we shout at the ocean.”

“just…straight up scream?” hongjoong frowns.

a smile starts to spread across san’s face as he understands wooyoung’s vision. “no, like our dreams. regrets. confessions,” san elaborates, making a move to stand and brushing the sand off his shorts.

seonghwa questions, “are we really doing this?” and yet he stands up as well.

“when will we ever get a chance to do this again?”

one by one, you all get up on your feet and wander down the beach closer towards the water. it’s silent, save for the crash of waves, while you eye each other and wait for somebody to start it off.

yunho clears his throat, then yells his next words from the very depths of his chest, “i want to become a famous choreographer!”

there are shared giggles at the striking contrast in volume after hours of low, heartfelt conversation, but it’s enough to fill the rest of you with courage and desire to do the same.

“i want my parents to accept that i won’t be a lawyer like they wanted me to be!” yeosang calls out.

mingi takes a huge breath with his entire body, “i hope i’ll win the lottery one day!”

you all break out into laughter, happiness and vigour running high through your veins. it definitely feels a little silly and a little childish, but is that not the charm of living in the prime years of your youth and spending it with your friends?

reservations now completely thrown to the wind, the boys holler and yell both serious and unserious aspirations with their entire soul, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands to carry their voices further out across the waters. you watch them with deep affection and tenderness and your eyes suddenly start to well up with the intensity of your emotions.

thank you for showing me what love feels like. you can continue to love them as friends, and that is already more than you could ever ask for.

taking a deep inhale of the chill of emerging dawn and blinking away the blur in your eyes, you join the boys and yell your heart out to the ocean. your screams blend together into a symphony of dreams and hopes; the swell of the chorus and the pinnacle of the movie.

and even though you’re all half-delirious from the lack of sleep, hair ruffled and mismatched pajamas wrinkled, it feels like anything and everything is possible in this moment. from here on, it’s the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring.

you’ve known johnny since you started attending namhae’s provincial college. being from a relatively small cohort and the same degree no less, you share most of your classes together. there’ll be a few times throughout the month that you’ll find yourselves sitting in the seat beside each other and maybe once a semester that you’ll complete a group task together.

he’s easy enough to get along with, conversation sprinkled with terrible jokes and random puns that remind you of yunho’s silly humour. you know for a fact as well that they’re the same height too, which sort of makes you wonder whether being tall has something to do with the way their funny bone develops, considering mingi’s humour is just as questionable.

you and johnny aren’t exactly distant enough to only be classified as classmates, but you’re not exactly close either. so it’s a surprise when, after summer ends and it marks a new semester, johnny asks you out on a coffee date on the weekend. (except the more you think about it afterwards, the more your seemingly random interactions make sense. why he asks for your number even after the group project is over. why he offers to drop off handwritten notes for you. why he sometimes favours sitting with you as opposed to with his own friends.)

initially, you tell him that you’re not interested, any potential awkwardness dissipating the moment he dramatically wails that he’s been rejected, much like hongjoong had when you had first met him. but then a week later, johnny coolly slaps an envelope onto the surface of your lecture table and struts off without looking back. when you open it, you realise it’s a three-page handwritten essay detailing his pros and cons in an attempt to try and win you over.

it reminds you of wooyoung, when he had made a whole presentation on his laptop complete with photographic and videographic evidence to try and convince you that he was the best dancer out of himself, san, yunho and mingi. like your friend, johnny’s efforts are honestly a little too hilarious and a little too endearing to reject for a second time, and it’s not like johnny has done anything to suggest that he’s a creep or murderer. so you let him take you out on the date.

he chooses to go to the small, quaint cafe that’s about a fifteen-minute walk from campus. coincidentally, it’s the one that you and san used to frequent before he moved away to seoul. johnny tells you to try the chocolate hazelnut dacquoise slices, which you do even though you know you prefer the strawberry ones more. the sweet mouthful makes you think of san, always offering you the first bite of his chocolate dacquoise in hopes of converting you to the flavour.

johnny pays for your dessert and drink and you two end up sitting in the cafe long after your plates have been cleared and mugs emptied to their bottoms. it turns out he likes spending time at the beach just as much as you do and he tells you of his summer trip to the maldives for his casual modelling gig. you’re not entirely surprised to learn of his part-time endeavours, considering you’ve never seen him dressed in anything less than loafers, chino shorts and a neatly-pressed button-up shirt. plus, johnny is objectively very attractive with his strong brows, chiselled jawline and dark locks of hair.

he offers to walk you home after your date, shrugging off his white button-up and passing it to you when you exit the cafe. it’s still warm enough in the afternoon to not need the extra layer, but you’re reminded of yeosang’s quiet yet perceptive gestures and it makes you smile nonetheless.

the weekend leads to a second date, followed by more time spent together. he finds reasons to see you throughout the weeks– the sun’s out which means you two should take a walk along the beach; he fell asleep during yesterday’s lecture which means you two should study at the cafe; he has a basketball match on the weekend which means you two should practise shooting hoops together.

and when you’re not physically spending time together, johnny likes to facetime you just so that he can ‘see your pretty face’. the frequency with which he compliments you randomly throughout the call is almost on par with seonghwa, who always sweetly observes when you're wearing a new lip tint or different hairstyle.

johnny’s laugh, be it in person or over video call, never fails to make you laugh with him. it’s boisterous when he doubles over with laughter and his eyes disappear when he chuckles. you can’t help but see jongho’s own adorable giggles in him.

after several months of courting advances, johnny asks to make it official. you say yes, because you have fallen for him.

and so, like the dwindling campfire that had marked the end of summer, you snuff out the remains of the fire in your heart that has been burning for san, hongjoong and the six other boys, leaving the last of the embers to their fate. left alone, they will slowly die out, completely extinguishing the flames and leaving only ashen remnants behind…or the sparks will continue to fight unnoticed; until they rekindle and turn into an uncontainable inferno.

“with all due disrespect, his parents don’t fucking deserve to be parents,” wooyoung spits out.

yunho tucks the blotchy aftermath of mingi’s heartbreak a little tighter into the crook of his own neck, other hand softly tousling the ends of the younger’s hair. the boys have only just managed to settle mingi into one of the beds in their shared dorm rooms after he had shown up at the dance studio barely holding it together by his last thread.

“i don’t think any of us had high hopes for them, considering the things he’s told us about them over the last few years,” seonghwa sighs as he pulls the blanket over mingi’s shoulders.

“but for them to just fucking disown him like that? do they even realise how much it took for him to come clean about us?”

san gently pulls wooyoung away from the bed, lest he wake up the boy in question, and massages his clenched fist open. yeosang sidles up to the pair, “do you think we could go down to namhae a few days earlier this summer?”

“that actually might be possible,” san chews on his bottom lip and takes out his phone to text his parents. “it’ll be a nice surprise for y/n, too.”

“she’s in for a few surprises,” jongho comments before nudging the boy next to him. “hopefully you didn’t scare her off after what you did.”

hongjoong scratches the nape of his neck at the jab, “yeah, i hope i didn’t fuck things up for all of us.”

“you still haven’t talked it out with her?” san looks up from his phone.

hongjoong grimaces, “no, but how could i? she said to pretend that it didn’t happen.”

“and you just took her word for it? god, that’s literally the universal response anyone would automatically give in a situation that’s utterly and mortifyingly embarrassing,” wooyoung throws his arms up into the air. “i wouldn’t be surprised if she says no to us after all.”

“look, i’ll talk to her when we see her again. the semester’s nearly over, anyway.”

san nods, “my parents are fine with us going down a weekend earlier. and i agree with hongjoong on this one–it’s probably something they should talk about in person, not over the phone. let’s just hope we haven’t missed our timing with this.”

there’s only a few more weeks left until summer, minus one week now that they have decided to make the trip down to namhae earlier for mingi’s sake. and regardless of what your answer will be to the question that they’ll ask you– be it yes or no– it still won’t change the fact that everything will be okay once they get to namhae. because everything is okay as long as you are by their side.

there’s a man standing by your side, and it’s not one of them.

it’s strange to see you holding hands with someone that they don’t know. of course, it’s inevitable that you would have your own friends in namhae and from college, and of course it’s inevitable that you would have friends of both genders. but the way you have your fingers interlocked with his looks anything but platonic.

the boys are familiar with the way their own hands feel with yours nestled in theirs; from when you squeeze yourself between two of them and happily swing your intertwined hands back and forth; when a large wave threatens to topple you over and you instinctively reach for them for support; when you’re curled up against them and absentmindedly fiddling with their fingers whilst watching a cheesy summer romcom. but right now, their own hands feel unfamiliar– oddly empty and unable to make up its mind as to whether it wants to relax or tighten into a fist, even more so when you make eye contact with them standing outside san’s house and freeze.

you haven’t told the boys about johnny yet, only that you had news you wanted to tell them in person once they came for the summer. but now that they are here, standing right in front of you and your boyfriend, you suddenly feel a prick of guilt that you hadn’t given them a heads up of some kind.

you slip your hand out of johnny’s grasp under the guise of tidying your hair. if johnny notices, he doesn’t comment on it. instead, he asks, “you know them?” and settles his arm heavily over your shoulders. the action probably looks as territorial as it feels.

“yeah, they’re my closest friends,” you answer louder than you need to, because you feel like you have to defend them– or yourself. “san’s from namhae, too, and the others are from different provinces. they go to college together in seoul.”

“oh,” your boyfriend makes a noise, “it’s them.”

hongjoong feels awfully smug at that comment, because it means that you’ve talked about them before. he feels even more pleased when you slightly step out from under the man’s arm. but then your next words have his expression darkening again.

“i was going to officially introduce him to you guys on your first day…i just wasn’t expecting it to be today,” you gently place your hand on johnny’s forearm. “this is johnny, my boyfriend.”

immediately, the boys recognise his name– how could they forget, when the name has never once left their subconscious since the moment he was mentioned. a fleeting thought enters hongjoong’s mind. if he had not pulled away that night– if he had kissed you instead of being a coward– would it be him standing by your side as your boyfriend right now?

and hongjoong is not alone in his thoughts. wooyoung’s teeth grit together as he wonders how different things may have turned out if only the older or he himself had been bolder with their feelings. if only any of them had plucked up the courage to make the first move. because you dating any of them would automatically put their heart infinitely more at ease than the literal fucking stranger who is standing by your side.

you’re about to tell your boyfriend the names of the eight boys in front of you when he raises an eyebrow at you, “you didn’t tell me your friends were all guys.” his tone isn’t accusatory, per se, but it’s definitely not cordial, either. this side of johnny is completely new to you.

seeing the flustered look on your face irks wooyoung in every way possible so he interrupts, “and why does it matter to you?”

johnny levels him with a look for several seconds before smiling placatingly. “you’ll understand when you get a girlfriend,” he dismisses.

immediately, there’s a palpable spike in tension. “sorry?” wooyoung scoffs.

san sets a firm hand on the back of wooyoung’s neck and you lowly murmur your boyfriend’s name– respectively scruffing the two men. you didn’t know what to expect introducing your friends and boyfriend to each other. but the start of what looks like it has the potential to turn into a fight was definitely not on the list.

in a lame attempt to change the topic, you comment, “you guys are here early this year.”

there’s a beat of silence that’s a split second longer than you deem comfortable and yunho clears his throat, “yeah…things ended up this way.”

the vague comment and pointed look in your boyfriend’s direction tells you that there’s more to it than they are letting you onto right now. you make a mental note to talk to them once johnny leaves…if he ends up leaving. but the heavy weight that is still draped around your shoulder shows no intention of removing itself.

even though your instinct is to run up to the boys and receive all the hugs you have missed, and their instinct is to pull you away from the unfamiliar man and back into the intimacy of their group, the arm around you is a stark reminder to everyone that you’re not single anymore– that there are now boundaries to respect. instead, your friends are left to shuffle awkwardly on the spot with wavering gazes as if they have caught you doing something they weren’t supposed to see.

“do you have classes today?” san dares to ask.

“not today. we were just…out,” you reply. on a date, it goes unsaid.

“well, we’re headed for the beach,” san hates the fact that he even has to ask his next sentence, “do you want to join us?”

looking at johnny, you hate the fact that your immediate answer isn’t to say yes. he glances at you and then answers on your behalf, “we’ll join. it’ll be nice for us to get to know each other, since it seems like we’ll be seeing each other often this summer.”

“not if you don’t show up,” wooyoung mutters under his breath, but he’s not really trying to be quiet about his disdain.

you fake a smile and push your boyfriend towards the entrance to your house. “we’ll get changed and then meet you guys down at the beach.” you don’t wait for an answer before shoving the front door open and shut again in quick succession behind you.

“wait here,” you tell johnny, “i’ll get you a spare pair of shorts,” then you disappear into your bedroom and let out a deep exhale, closing your eyes to clear your head.

you had spent the last few years embracing the changes in your relationship with san. every summer marked a change in your friendship group– a new chapter each year as you rewrote the group dynamics with additional people to love and be loved by.

this summer, like the others, also marks a change and beginning of a new chapter, but now you’re realising that not all chapters in a story will always be happy. instead, some chapters will mark the beginning of the complication.

it feels like an unusual mix between deja vu and an out-of-body experience as san straps the leash of his surfboard around his ankle. his gaze follows your form and he watches silently when you’re picked by the waist and tossed into the ocean. it looks all too familiar– except instead of him being the one who brings the laughter out of your squeals, it’s that annoyingly tall and irritatingly jacked dude that is your boyfriend.

san can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips as he peels his eyes away. if johnny makes you happy, then objectively, san wants nothing more for you. but he cannot help but feel that you are undeserving of anything less than the entire world; something he and his boys are willing to give to you. but life is all about timing and it seems like they’ve missed theirs.

he’s distracted by the sight of you and johnny in his peripheral vision, even as he paddles out into the deeper waters with yunho. the taller is uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes repeatedly flickering back and forth between you and mingi. mingi needed this trip more than any of them combined, but there’s an uneasy feeling in the pit of yunho’s stomach that’s telling him the appearance of your boyfriend is only just the beginning of a rocky summer.

regardless of their combined years of surfing experience, both yunho and san seem to continuously lose their balance on their boards today. and despite the saltiness of the sea water that flows into san’s mouth each time he falls– no longer the graceful choreographer of the sea– there’s a bitter taste on his tongue that he cannot get rid of no matter how many bottles of water he drinks over the rest of the day.

it follows him even when the sweet fragrance of fresh pastries and syrupy drinks permeates the air the moment he walks into the bakery you so adore after your group walks from the beach. san pulls the glass door open for you, wind chime tinkling softly overhead, and he has to resist the urge to let go of the door handle when your boyfriend also walks through without so much as a word or glance of gratitude.

before san walks up to the counter, he instinctively turns around to check your order before he adds it to his own like he has always done. “strawberry dacquoise and grapefruit ade?”

you’re about to nod when johnny steps into place beside you and asserts, “she likes the chocolate ones.”

san keeps his voice as even as he can and refutes, “no, y/n prefers the strawberry ones. i would know, considering we’ve been going to this cafe together since we were twelve.” he emphasises the last word, clearly telling the other that he is the one who has known you since you were young and therefore knows you the best out of anyone, boyfriend be damned.

not backing down, johnny turns to ask, “is that true, babe?”

you swallow uncomfortably, mouth suddenly dry. “i like both,” you evade.

but your lack of denial says more than enough and johnny’s frown deepens almost immediately. at his expression, you rush to amend, “i know you like the chocolate ones more. it makes me happy sharing them with you.”

“you should’ve told me,” johnny fusses. but opposed to disappointment at not having known your preference for strawberry, he seems more displeased at having discovered this fact through your male friend.

san notices how apologetic you start to feel and he absolutely despises how unfamiliar it looks on your face. if this is the type of boyfriend that he is giving you up to, then san is not prepared to let go of you at all.

“or maybe you should’ve noticed,” he shrugs nonchalantly in your boyfriend’s direction before smiling tenderly at you. “i’ll order your food. go find a seat with seong–”

johnny’s voice is heated when he interjects, “no, you won’t. i’ll pay for my girlfriend’s food.”

you’ve never heard him talk with this tone before, much less seen him act this way, but his words suddenly strike you with clarity and reasoning. with a relationship comes adherence to mutual boundaries and expectations, and although san is used to doting on you, the reality now is that johnny currently fulfills that role as your boyfriend.

“it’s alright, san. thank you,” you give your friend a soft smile. “johnny’s got it for me.”

san nods, defeated. your boyfriend gently nudges you in the direction of the tables, “go sit down. i’ll bring our order over when it’s ready.”

on edge, you walk to where some of the boys are already seated and slide in beside seonghwa, who has been watching the entire exchange silently. “y/n,” he starts.

you plaster on a smile, “it’s okay.”

seonghwa studies you carefully for a moment, then appears to make up his mind about something and returns your smile. except anybody can see that it doesn’t reach his eyes. “do you want to swap seats with me? that way you and johnny can sit on the same side.”

grateful for his thoughtfulness, you change seats and sit on his left just as wooyoung joins the table with an iced americano in his hand. he sets it down to drag a spare chair beside him, offhandedly commenting, “why are you even dating him? i don’t get what you see in him.”

he hisses when seonghwa kicks his shin from under the table, shaking his head, and you just give the younger a tight-lipped smile in response. you’re distracted by the buzz of your phone in your pocket. a quick glance downwards tells you that it’s a text from san.

sorry for putting you between your bf and i

you look up in surprise and find that he’s already gazing at you from where he’s waiting at the counter. his eyebrows knit together in apology and you shake your head, mouthing that it’s okay. san has always been the bigger person in any situation– with you, with friends and family, and even with people he doesn’t necessarily see eye to eye with.

your phone buzzes again, twice in succession, but this time the notifications aren’t from him. it’s johnny.

what’s his problem, god wants to get into your pants or sth

your boyfriend continues to tap away at his phone, expression marred with poorly concealed irritation. but he doesn’t seem to be referring to your texting exchange with san– you don’t think he’s even noticed. instead, he’s still hooked on the ordering incident.

slipping the phone back into your pocket and pretending you have not noticed the messages yet, you simply wait for johnny to grab the tray with your pastries and drinks before he slides into the chair next to you. and for the first time since dating, you find yourself comparing your boyfriend not to san, but against him.

it feels like you have spent the last two months treading carefully on eggshells. there are days you spend with both johnny and the boys and it becomes clear to everyone pretty quickly that they’re not warming up to each other. despite your best efforts to bring them closer, there is unmistakable tension that underlies every interaction that they have and don’t have with one another.

then there are the days you spend with just your boyfriend. he doesn’t mention your friends and neither do you, but you notice the way his gaze flickers to your phone whenever it lights up with a notification. like a mutual taboo, he simply continues the conversation after a pause and you don’t point it out.

and then there are the rarer days that you spend with just the eight of your friends, like today– the ones that feel like the old summers that you have started to yearn. and yet, even with the familiar essence of the past, you start to notice them. the subtle differences.

it’s not obvious at first. the casual displays of affection that have extended beyond habitual touches and have just become who they are are still there. but there’s something about the attentiveness with which seonghwa dusts the powdered sugar off of yeosang’s cheeks when he’s eating. or in the naturalness with which wooyoung moulds himself into san’s side when they sit on the couch. something in the way mingi’s entire body relaxes whenever yunho gently thumbs the nape of his neck, and in the softening of hongjoong’s eyes when jongho speaks up in conversation.

maybe it’s because you find yourself no longer a part of their shared love, regardless of how platonic it may be between you and the boys. ultimately, it’s easier to notice things when you’re watching on as what feels like an outsider. and it makes sense that the dynamics of your friendship would change, considering how deeply embedded physical affection is within your group and the fact that you now have a boyfriend, but there’s something more to their interactions– you’re sure of it. you just can’t put your finger on what exactly.

it’s that thought that reminds you of yunho’s words when he and the rest of your friends had turned up a week before the start of summer. “what did you mean about things having ended up this way when you guys came down to namhae early?” you suddenly ask, eyes looking away from the television screen where the round of their game has just ended. “and wasn’t there something else you guys had wanted to tell me about?”

clearly not having expected your questions, yunho blinks as he formulates a response, “yeah, there is. just–maybe talk to mingi first. you’ll probably want to hear it directly from him.”

and hongjoong needs to talk to you first, too, yunho thinks to himself. except, he wonders whether there is even a point to it anymore.

your heart sinks at yunho’s words because you have a feeling it has to do with mingi’s parents. and his parents are never good news. right at that moment, mingi emerges through the doorway after his shower, a towel draped over his shoulders as he uses its ends to roughly dry his hair. he stops in his tracks when he notices you and yunho staring at him.

“i know i’m hot but you don’t have to make it that obvious,” he jokes.

you snort and shake your head, getting up to your feet and walking over to him as yunho watches knowingly. “come sit outside with me for a bit?” you ask mingi.

he agrees, pulling the towel off and tossing it onto the back of a chair to dry. you catch a whiff of san’s shampoo when he moves, the fragrance of cedarwood and bergamot that all the boys end up being scented with each summer filling your nose.

the two of you sit on the embankment just outside san’s house, legs dangling off the edge of the port. you can just barely toe the start of the sand but mingi easily shuffles his feet in it, drawing lazy patterns in your company. after a few minutes of peaceful silence, he nudges you gently albeit playfully, “did you want to ask me something?”

you chuckle at having been exposed and nudge him back in response. he never budges, torso bigger and more muscular than you can move, but it doesn’t stop you from trying and him from laughing endearingly.

“i asked yunho why you guys came down earlier this summer and he said to ask you,” you peer at him, treading carefully with your next words, “is everything okay?”

he takes a breath, exhaling long and slow. “i came out to my parents,” he reveals. “told them i’m bi and…they didn’t take it well.”

mingi doesn’t need to elaborate for you to understand that his parents didn’t just ‘not take it well’. you can only imagine the hell that broke loose. “oh, mingi,” you sigh, eyebrows knitting together with hurt.

“i also told them that i’m dati–”

the sound of the door opening and the call of your name stops mingi from finishing his sentence. it’s yunho with a ringing phone in his hand. “you might want to take this call,” he alerts you.

frowning, you make a stand to reach for your phone, asking, “who is it?”

he glances down awkwardly at the screen that is still on. “your boyfriend.”

you’re just about to slide the answer button when the call disconnects and you see that including the one that has just ended, you have four missed calls.

“oh, shit,” you can’t help the curse that slips out of your mouth. four missed calls is never a good sign from anybody, much less your boyfriend, who has also sent you several texts asking where you are.

seeing the darkening of your expression, yunho misses the girl whose biggest worry was the number of ice cream scoops to scam hongjoong out of. he misses the girl whose smile was brighter than the reflected sun on san’s surfboard. most of all, yunho misses the girl he has fallen in love with.

“y/n, i’m going to be honest with you,” he hesitates slightly. “i don’t think he’s the right one for you.”

you know that yunho’s looking out for you and his heart is in the right place, but it’s not what you want to– or need to hear right now. and perhaps, there’s an inkling of you that already knows. still, you try to keep your voice even when you reply, “i’d know if he’s not.”

you turn to mingi next and shoot him an apologetic look, “i’m sorry but i should probably call him back. we’ll talk later, yeah?”

mingi doesn’t know when later will be and neither do you. but he simply nods and lets you go, watching dejectedly as your form disappears back into your house at the same time san steps out of his. he had been carefully observing from the window the moment yunho had walked out with your incessantly ringing phone in his hand.

“guess he takes priority over us now,” mingi sighs.

san looks at him bittersweetly, “that’s what happens when you find somebody you love. like johnny is her priority, you are my priority and yunho’s. in fact, you’re the priority of five other people as well.” despite the fact that he is shorter, san still reaches up to flick mingi’s nose affectionately as he fondly states, “aren’t you lucky.”

mingi scrunches his nose in retaliation and san diverts the topic, “now come on, are you going to just stand back and let yunho win the game again?”

the younger grins, light returning to his eyes as he cheekily suggests, “you distract him while i cheat?”

“i’m right here,” yunho protests, but he’s shaking his head dotingly. together, he and mingi make their way back into the house, hands finding each other as they pass through the threshold.

san lingers behind and stares at the closed door of your house. for the longest time, you have been one of san’s priorities, if not the priority. over the last few years, the number of his priorities have steadily grown and you now share the top of the list in his heart with seven other boys. your happiness is san’s priority, as is the happiness of the others.

but what happens when interests start to conflict and your boyfriend– and by association, you– becomes a reason for unhappiness amongst the people he cares so dearly for? what happens if there comes a day where he must choose between his priorities and push somebody down the list, or worse…completely out of his heart?

you’re just as troubled when, half an hour after his missed calls and your subsequent response asking to meet up, you and johnny aimlessly wander the streets of the neighbourhood. the air is tense and despite the cry of cicadas, the silence from the lack of conversation is the only sound that you can hear. you can tell that he’s displeased by the fact that you had been with your friends, but you’re not exactly happy with him right now either.

you know an argument’s brewing– one that has been long coming, perhaps since the start of summer. you could have chosen to take the night to cool down, but it will eventually boil over one day, be it him or yourself. better to address it now than wait until it’s too late, and perhaps you can salvage it before it does boil over.

“why did you call me so many times?”

johnny knows you’re not only asking about tonight, and definitely not only about his phone calls. and yet, your tone is not accusatory, only genuinely curious and open to understanding his reasoning and emotions. solely because he feels guilt starting to prick his insides at your question does he make an attempt to reign in his childish jealousy that has reared its head so many times in the last two months.

“i didn’t know where you were,” he halfheartedly answers. “i thought something had happened.”

you both know it’s a lie– a pretty bad one at that. you had texted him just mere hours ago telling him that you would be at san’s. at his excuse, you raise an eyebrow.

“i don’t like the way they look at you,” johnny finally admits, partially showing his true colours. “especially san.”

you had guessed just as much and you can see why he might feel that way, but you want him to see where you’re coming from, too. “we grew up together, johnny. we’re each other’s best friend and he doesn’t like me like that.”

warm breath ghosting over your lips and then disappearing just as fast flits across your memory. “none of them do,” you emphasise. “and i’ve been transparent about hanging out with them when you’re not there, haven’t i? i literally texted you a few hours ago.”

he hesitates, “i was busy playing basketball with my friends. i missed your text and then you didn’t reply or answer my calls…” the way his voice drops off the more he talks is a good indicator that he knows the patheticness of his justification.

“and i was busy with my friends, too,” you reason. “you’re not glued to your phone, and neither am i.”

you continue when he stays silent, “you’re my boyfriend and i understand that it can make you feel uneasy when i hang out with so many guys, but you have to understand that they’re my friends, and my closest ones too. i would appreciate it if you give me more space when i’m with them, but i’ll also try to make sure i’m reachable on my phone so you have a piece of mind.”

you look at him and search his eyes for any indicators that he has more to say. from the way his jaw clenches subtly, you know that he’s disgruntled at best. but to your surprise he does not protest, instead nodding and walking you back to your house. you can’t tell whether the silence this time is slightly better or just as suffocating.

when you reach your front door, the lights are still on in the neighbouring house and you can hear the muted ruckus of laughter. as you unlock your door and pull it open, your boyfriend surprises you once more by calling out, “i love you.”

you learn a lot about a person simply from the things that they say, and sometimes–

“i know,” you reply gently, before shutting the door.

–you learn even more about a person simply from the things that they don’t say.

it’s two weeks after your conversation with johnny when he runs into some of the boys at one of the beachside cafes without your presence.

with autumn just around the corner, you’re spending the day transitioning the rice seedlings, now almost at the height of your thighs, from the wet paddies to the drier fields since your parents aren’t in namhae to do it. only mingi, yunho and jongho are helping you out; you had discovered the hard way last summer that letting all eight of them help you was, in fact, counterproductive when there were more plants being trampled on than safely moved.

and so while the four of you are working in the rice paddy, the remaining boys sit on the cafe terrace that overlooks the beach about a ten-minute drive from your and san’s houses. a hush suddenly falls over their conversation, elbows inconspicuously nudging one another and shoulders tensing when they spot your boyfriend making his way towards the cafe with a small group of his own friends.

a smirk graces johnny’s lips when his gaze falls upon the five of your friends, ignoring the courteous nod of acknowledgement that seonghwa attempts to make on their behalf and instead walking closer onto the cafe’s terrace. it’s not clearly audible, but it’s definitely direct enough for the boys to make out the words when johnny walks past and mutters, “fuckin’ pussies.”

wooyoung immediately reacts. “what the fuck did you just say?” he growls threateningly as seonghwa squeezes his thigh in anticipation of him standing up.

johnny pauses to look at them with faux innocence, “i wasn’t talking to you guys, but i guess if you’re offended–”

it’s hongjoong who rises to his feet first, chair screeching as it slides out from under his knees along the wooden deck. “you say one more fucking word,” he starts, eyes thunderous and fists turning white at his sides.

“and you’ll what,” johnny sneers, “run to my girlfriend crying? ask her to have a little talk with me?”

at the mention of you, both san and wooyoung join hongjoong on their feet. “watch what you say,” san looks at him dangerously. “don’t bring y/n into this.”

the commotion is starting to attract the attention of the staff and other customers in the cafe. seonghwa slowly stands, preparing to step in before it can escalate into something physical as yeosang grips the seat of his chair.

johnny steps closer and scoffs, “that’s bullshit. you guys can’t even take care of your own feelings so you have to hide behind my girlfriend like a bunch of pathetic losers. it makes no fucking sense for her to ask me to leave her alone when she’s with you guys.”

“and i bet it’s never fucking crossed your mind that maybe it’s an issue with something you’re doing–not us,” wooyoung reciprocates with his own bold step closer.

he’s suddenly jerked forward when johnny fists the front of his shirt and instantly everyone moves in towards the two. seonghwa wedges his arms against their chests to prevent wooyoung from getting dragged further forward, though the younger is fiercely standing his ground, teeth bared and eyes murderous. save for yeosang, who comes to stand protectively behind him, the remaining two boys are swept up into the beginnings of a scuffle as johnny’s friends step in as well.

“look at you, all riled up,” johnny goads, ignoring the hands that are trying to keep him subdued. “and she tells me that you don’t all want to fuck her?”

seonghwa inhales sharply as he attempts to overpower both wooyoung and hongjoong, who is now extremely determined to connect his fist with your boyfriend’s face. but to many of their infuriation, the fist doesn’t get a chance to hit its well-deserved target when there’s a firm shout over the commotion.

the cafe manager harshly warns, “we’re going to have to ask you all to leave the premises, otherwise we’re going to call the police.”

“wooyoung! hongjoong!” seonghwa hisses. “it’s not worth the trouble. stop!”

there are a few tense seconds of heaving chests and grinding jaws before johnny lets wooyoung go with a shove and hongjoong begrudgingly and slowly lowers his raised fist.

“you bitches got lucky this time,” johnny glowers. he beckons to his friends with a jerk of his head, still glaring at wooyoung, then kicks a chair out of his way as he leaves the cafe. in the wake of the confrontation, seonghwa turns to look at the manager and creases his eyebrows in apology, bowing multiple times to the other employees and customers too.

the manager nods wryly, “you and your friends are still going to have to leave.”

“we understand,” seonghwa replies, beginning to usher hongjoong and wooyoung towards the exit. “we’re truly sorry.”

as the five of them walk out, his eyes dart around anxiously in case your boyfriend and his friends are still lingering around. muscles taut and on edge, seonghwa makes a decision as the oldest. “let’s go home,” he declares, “we can wait there.”

they pile into the jeep wordlessly and san turns on the ignition, pulling out of the small car park and heading back to his. they’re only a few minutes away when wooyoung breaks the silence, “so who’s gonna tell y/n that her boyfriend’s a fucking asshole and that she needs to break up with his sorry ass?” he fumes. “because if no one’s going to do it, then i’m going to tell her the moment we get home.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa starts.

“no, don’t wooyoung me,” he snaps. “he’s a fucking pretentious dickhead and she needs to know that. i don’t even care if we don’t ever get to talk about that other thing with her anymore. all i care is that he never gets to show his face in front of her ever again.”

seonghwa rubs his temples in frustration. he argues, “look, i agree with you and i’m not saying we shouldn’t tell y/n. but we need to put our feelings aside and think about this rationally, otherwise we could end up hurting her.”

“i think she’s going to get hurt regardless of how we approach it,” hongjoong snarks as the other levels him with a look.

“the campfire night is only a few days away,” yeosang points out. “maybe we should wait until that’s over…you know how excited she and mingi get about it each year.”

hongjoong protests, “and wait for her to bring johnny along on the day? sorry, but not even seonghwa is going to be able to stop me from sucker-punching him to the ground.”

“surely she’s not going to bring him. it’s a day just for us,” yeosang frowns.

san feels their questioning gazes settling on him and he glances in the rearview mirror to confirm his hunch. “i don’t know, probably not?” he answers whilst shrugging, turning into the small street that leads to your house. “but honestly? i think we should wait until after that day to talk to her. i don’t see the point in ruining it for any more of us.”

seonghwa agrees and adds on, “and only one of us should have the conversation with her. san, you’re probably the best person out of us.”

san hums in agreement, slowly braking the car to a stop before he turns in his seat to look at the rest of them. “i’ll find a time to talk to her and in the meantime,” he looks at wooyoung and hongjoong gently, knowing how frustrated they must be feeling, “we wait.”

there’s only a few more days until the campfire– they only need to hold out for a little longer until then. what could possibly go wrong?

“are you sure it’s a good idea to leave hongjoong and y/n to get the snacks together?”

seonghwa tenderly thumbs yeosang’s lips from out of his teeth, where he has been biting the corner of his lips in worry, and answers, “he’s hopeless at buying all the other things and she knows what snacks we like the best.” seonghwa knows hongjoong’s way of being confrontational is stark and direct, but he also has faith in the other that he won’t prematurely bring up your boyfriend and risk hurting you with the conversation.

you make your way down the snack aisles of the grocery store with hongjoong and it feels both familiar and foreign. there are no shopping cart races or invisible finish flags this time– only the two of you and the baskets in his hands as he carries whatever you pluck off the shelves. it’s been a while since you’ve had time alone with hongjoong; not since the incident last summer.

looking down at the shopping baskets, you put another packet of banana crisps in before commenting, “let’s get some sweet things and then that should be enough for the ten of us.”

hongjoong cocks his head, “haneul’s coming?”

“...no,” you look at him carefully, “johnny is.”

“johnny? you’re joking.”

you frown at the sudden coldness in his tone, “he’s my boyfriend, hongjoong.” johnny had been strangely adamant about going today and you had also noticed he seemed to be irritated about something. so quite frankly, you weren’t about to tell him no.

“and he’s also an asshole, you know that? why are you even dating him?”

you know your boyfriend and your friends still aren’t on amicable terms, but you’re honestly getting tired of feeling like you have to justify yourself and your dating life. and considering you have just had a talk with johnny to try and make things better for everyone, you can’t help but feel like you are being pushed into a corner yet again.

“asshole or not, at least he’s honest about his feelings for me,” you retort pointedly.

“oh?” hongjoong scoffs in disbelief, “is that what this is about?”

you challenge him with a glare, “what do you think i’m implying?”

“so i’m the bad guy now? i thought you liked me. since when did you stoop so low as to throw yourself at any guy who makes a move on you?”

your jaw drops. “you know what? what the fuck is your problem?” you shove his chest in anger. “let’s not forget that you were the one who tried to kiss me first and you were the one who also stopped. yeah, i did like you, but at least i’m willing to admit it.”

you step in closer, breathing heavy as you continue heatedly, “what about you? what the fuck have you done that makes you think you have any right to say that my decisions are wrong.”

hongjoong grits his teeth, “you’re making a mistake dating him.”

“yeah, you would know something about mistakes,” you throw back sarcastically. “but then again, you were probably happy to pretend it never happened and forget about it.”

“don’t fucking put words into my mouth,” he warns.

“it seems to be the only way i can get you to talk about us. you have no issues giving me shit about my relationship with my boyfriend, but when it comes to our relationship it’s radio silence for a year.”

hongjoong at least has the decency to look guilty when he declares, “i was going to talk to you about it face to face.”

“whatever, hongjoong. it’s too late,” you brush him off.

you snatch the baskets out his hands and walk away, no longer concerned over what snacks the boys will have for the campfire later tonight. you just want to get away from hongjoong, so you do exactly that. you leave him alone in the aisle to stare at the view of your back walking further away from him. life is all about timing and hongjoong has long missed his.

hours later, mingi scans the room from where he’s perched on a stool at the kitchen island in your house. everyone is either lounging around, preparing the meat and cutlery or setting up the grill and table outside– everyone except for one.

“where’s hongjoong?” he asks nobody in particular. he doesn’t think he’s seen the other since they’ve all come back from the grocery store.

“he’s resting in my room,” san answers. “said he wasn’t feeling too well but he’ll join us later.”

you roll your eyes at the knives you’re counting out, opting to keep your mouth shut. what san doesn’t say either, though, is that he knows something is off– hongjoong was completely fine this morning and you were definitely in higher spirits.

there’s an abrupt knock at your front door and you put the cutlery down, saying, “i’ll get it.” you know it’s probably johnny so you don’t bother squinting through the peephole before pulling the door open and blinking, “you look nice today.”

your boyfriend has styled his hair so that it slicks back from his forehead, parted down the right side of his scalp. he’s dressed in his usual smart casual fit but has chosen to pair it with accessories to accentuate his collarbones and wrists. he shrugs, “wanted to look good.”

you lead him to the open kitchen and immediately, you notice the shift in the air. a few of the boys give a tight-lipped smile in acknowledgement, but the expressions on wooyoung and san, and even yeosang and seonghwa go blank or two shades darker. hongjoong’s uncharacteristic cold feet suddenly makes a lot of sense to san now.

“you invited johnny?” san’s question is eerily monotone. a blunt knife may not be able to cut through rope, but with continuous abrasion and chafing, even the thickest of ropes will eventually sever.

your voice is not entirely friendly when you reply, “yes, san. i invited my boyfriend.”

“and why the fuck did you do that?”

san’s swearing has you reeling in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by pent-up stress and anger that has been lingering for weeks and exacerbated by your argument with hongjoong mere hours ago. your entire body starts to heat up when san continues to criticise, “we’ve put up with him for long enough, don’t you think? it’s one thing for you to date him of all people, but it’s another thing to bring him to this.”

you laugh bitingly, no longer concerned about trying to deal with this maturely. all you can think about is how san is hurting you and how you want to hurt him back too. “so you can bring whoever the fuck you want each year, but i can’t bring my own boyfriend?” you retort.

the silence is deafening. nobody moves as they try to process the words that have just been thrown at them. yunho’s eyes are wide with confusion more than hurt at how quickly this argument has escalated, and he slowly raises his arms out in front of him, “okay, i think we all need to–”

“whoever the fuck–are we just ‘whoever’ to you?” wooyoung harshly interrupts. “we’ve been trying to look out for you and this is what we fucking get in return?”

you know that you won’t be able to take your words back after you say them, but they slip out anyway as you counter, “i didn’t ask any of you to look out for me.”

yunho’s arms fall limply to his sides and seonghwa looks away. wooyoung’s words are resigned and stony when he stares at you dead in the eye and says, “you know, y/n. we needed this trip this summer…more than anything. but thanks for ruining it for all of us.” then he brushes past your shoulder and slams the front door on his way out.

one by one, the boys follow him out of your house– first yeosang, then seonghwa, neither of them able to look you in the eye. when yunho and jongho hesitantly walk past you as well, they give you a small, apologetic wince. 

mingi still stands in the room. he has been quiet throughout the entire argument but his eyes tell a story of a million words. he’s filled with hurt and sorrow if not obvious by the wetness that starts to well in his eyes. “i guess you were just saying it when you told me i have a home here with you in namhae,” he chokes out.

your own eyes grow hot as you shake your head, “mingi, that’s not–”

but he leaves before you can say anything else. turning back towards the interior of your house– now looking far too spacious and vast without one of your friends occupying every available surface– you are left alone with just san and johnny. the heat of the fight is quickly slipping away, instead rushing all towards your eyes, and you call out san’s name. what for, you don’t know, but your cry is timid and desperate.

as much as it pains san to make a decision, mingi needs him– his boys need him, and they are his priority now. right there and then, san discovers for himself his final answer when it comes to choosing between love and friendship. he walks out of your house, turning his back on you.

you jolt awake feeling disorientated. your head feels clouded, eyes blurry from swelling and you’re still in the clothes from last night that you don’t recall falling asleep in. reaching for your phone, you wonder whether it has already ticked past noon for you to have woken up on your own, except you find that its dead. you roll over with a groan and plug your phone into its charger, then haul yourself upwards.

you rinse the stale taste out of your mouth before walking out to the living room and immediately, you’re hit with the memories and intense emotions of last night. there are packets of raw meat still unopened and bottles of soju still littering the table that you hadn’t tidied up. in the aftermath of the argument, you had told johnny to give you some space and to go home. you had then gone straight to your bedroom, covering yourself with the blankets in an attempt to hide yourself from the world and cried out your sorrows until you exhausted yourself to sleep.

you let out a long and heavy sigh, soul still exhausted to the very core, so you turn back towards your bedroom. you’ll clean everything up when you’re feeling a little more confident to face the consequences of last night. sitting on the edge of your bed, you reach for your phone. there are a few texts from johnny that you scroll past when something else catches your eye.

it’s a text from jongho, timestamped for 1:17 am. you and the boys rarely have a reason to message each other individually, preferring to use the group chat since there are no secrets shared. although, you suppose, none of you will be using the group chat for a while…

you tap on jongho’s notification. instantly, your heart drops all the way to the bottom of your stomach and past it. you think your heart is down in the fucking ground, because–

hey, wasn’t sure if you’d want to know or not but i think we’re going back to seoul in the morning

the numbers in the corner of your phone tell you that it’s already eleven thirty, and that’s when you hear it– the noise that had woken you up earlier. the distinct slam of a car boot closing shut. you jolt up to your feet, panic coursing through your veins as blood rushes to your ears and drowns out all rational thoughts. you forgo any shoes and throw your front door open to run outside, uncaring of the grit that digs painfully into the soles of your feet.

a brief flash of relief flickers across jongho’s face at your appearance but you miss it in your frenzy to make sense of what you are seeing. all three of their cars are parked in a line, their surfboards already strapped and secured to the car hoods or in the bed of the ute. the last of their luggage and duffel bags are being loaded and san is locking his front door.

every summer, the boys wait until the last possible second to leave, to the point where you have to forcibly push them towards their cars with fond laughter. it’s only thursday today and summer doesn’t end for another three days, and yet–

“you guys are leaving?” you ask apprehensively.

nobody answers you immediately. the only sound that punctuates the silence is the forceful slam of a door as wooyoung enters the car. hongjoong accidentally makes eye contact with you and his eyes narrow before he opens the door to his ute and also disappears.

jongho clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we’re heading back early.”

“oh…” you’re at a loss for words, unsure of how to react to this situation. “drive safe.”

like a parallel of last night, the boys enter their respective cars one by one, jongho giving you a subtle wave. guilt stifles you for the things you have said to the boys and you’re also consumed by hurt from the things they have said to you. but you know for certain that you cannot just let this friendship fall through the cracks like this.

as san makes his way to his jeep, which is parked at the front of the line as the lead driver, you watch carefully for any sign that things are still salvageable for your friendship. a smile, a glance, a nod– anything. but he simply pulls his jeep door open like you are invisible.

you hesitantly ask him, “i’ll see you next summer?”

san is expressionless but he may as well be glaring at you when he replies, “don’t count on it,” and for the second time of your life, he turns his back on you.

as san buckles his seatbelt in, trying his goddamn hardest to pretend he doesn’t see the tears now beginning to fall from your eyes, he tells himself that you’ve made your decision and he’s made his. he has chosen his priorities and will give you up, and yet, still he hopes that one day you’ll realise you deserve better and break up with johnny. san hopes that you’ll come across somebody more than better, even if it cannot be him.

before yunho also gets into the jeep, he pauses in front of you. he fists the sides of his pants to stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears away. instead, he consoles, “i think we all just need a little bit of time, yeah?”

you nod numbly at his words. you’re forced to take several steps back out of the way after yunho also shuts his door closed and the engines hum to life in succession. unable to do anything, you can only watch helplessly as san’s jeep starts to pull away and the other two cars also follow.

“they’re finally leaving, huh.”

there’s only one person who would have amusement laced into those words. refusing to turn around in your state, you exhale shakily, “not now, johnny.”

“you honestly need better friends. everyone has a stick up their ass in that group,” he comments.

“i said not now,” you warn again, blinking the rest of your tears away when you feel anger creeping up in its stead.

“i should’ve just punched them when i had the chance to.”

you whip around to face him and yell, absolutely appalled, “johnny!”

“what?” he scowls. “they were the ones who started it.”

you grow deathly still. “started what?” you interrogate, and when he doesn’t let up, you step in closer. “johnny?”

“look, i ran into some of them the other day. that little fucker–wooyoung? he was basically asking to be punched. he’s lucky i let him off the hook,” he sneers.

you’ve known wooyoung longer than you have known johnny and you honestly find your boyfriend’s recount hard to believe. yes, wooyoung is hot-headed and rash, but he never reacts unless he has been provoked. or in other cases, his loved ones have been provoked.

“don’t you fucking dare call my friends fuckers,” you growl. is this who your boyfriend truly is? is this the person who your friends have been able to see through all this time?

“are you fucking serious right now?” johnny spits in your face, “you’re defending them? you always take their fucking side even though i’m your boyfriend.”

you spit right back, “and you know what? that was my biggest mistake. i should have never made you my boyfriend.”

johnny’s expression drops entirely. “are you breaking up with me right now?”

“yes, i am.” you confirm. “we’re over.”

you turn on your heel and for once, you are glad that he has shown up at your house, because it means you are a mere ten feet away from shutting your now-ex out of your life. you fumble with the door, vision rapidly blurring, then walk through and close it behind you. slowly, you lean back against the door. with nothing grounding you anymore, the tears escape your eyes once more and you don’t bother trying to hold back your cries.

all too fast, everything has come to a full circle of hurt. johnny turned his back on your friends, your friends turned their backs on you, and you have now turned your back on johnny. your chest shudders and heaves at the realisation, wondering where it all went wrong.

you want to seek out one of the boys for comfort– seonghwa or san– but you only end up dropping to your hands and knees, head dizzy from how hard you begin to sob, when you realise that that’s no longer an option. you all need time apart, both yourself and the boys. you know. but it’s much easier for them because they are going back to seoul together as their group of eight. they still have each other to lean on for comfort, whereas you are left behind to nurse your own wounds by yourself.

in the quiet of your house with the end of summer approaching in namhae, for the first time since meeting san, you are truly alone. it no longer feels like the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring. instead, it’s you against the world…and the eight of them.

haneul takes all but one look at you before she’s making herself comfortable on your couch, tugging a cushion into her lap and patting the space beside her with a commanding air of authority. her expression tells you that there’s no room for argument, so you sink into the couch next to her.

the bewilderment must be obvious on your face when she asks you to spill what happened with san, because she simply reveals, “san messaged the family chat when he arrived back in seoul. and we all know he would give up surfing before voluntarily leaving namhae early.”

you slouch in on yourself, “we fought.”

as surprising as it is to hear, since she’s never seen you and san argue before, haneul had an inkling that that was the case after her little brother’s vague reasons. she probes, “about what?”

you tell her about everything. how you started dating johnny, how the boys came early for the summer and how you tried to get them on friendly terms. how your friends were constantly telling you to break up with him and how your boyfriend was always unhappy about you spending time with them. you tell her about the near-kiss with hongjoong last summer and the confrontation you had with him this summer. the argument you had with all the boys and the break up with johnny. everything.

haneul’s quiet for a while as she tries to piece together your story and her own thoughts. “did they ever tell you why they were so against you dating him?” she finally questions.

you shake your head and she asks, “then did you try talking to them about it?”

you slowly shake your head again, slightly ashamed by your own answer. you had been so focused on finding fault in the different ways the boys could have expressed their disapproval regarding your boyfriend that you didn’t think of the multiple opportunities you had to work out why those opinions existed in the first place.

“what do you think of it all, then? obviously, you would have broken up with johnny for a reason–or did the criticism from the boys just become too much?

fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you look down at your lap. “he was a decent guy…up until summer and the boys came over. that’s when he started acting differently and,” you pause, trying to find a nicer phrase before giving up and settling on, “became an asshole.”

she nods, waiting as you elaborate, “he became more overbearing and possessive, especially when i was hanging out with them when he wasn’t present. and he was just always so pissed. he was dead serious about getting into a physical fight with wooyoung. and we both know that none of the boys would ever start a fight for no reason, much less a fistfight, so johnny had to be the instigator.”

the way that you are solely picking out the faults of your ex does not go unnoticed by haneul. “y/n,” she stares at you seriously. “are you upset about your break up, or your argument with the boys?”

her question stuns you because it’s quite obviously both, but she stops your reflexive response with the instruction, “think about it before you answer me.”

you close your mouth and look at your lap again to actually process your own thoughts and feelings. what are you thinking and feeling? johnny…you had sort of known already that he would not be a constant in your life for much longer. from the moment you had started comparing him against the other boys, it was already the beginning of the end.

but san and the others? they are and have been the sun to your solar system for years; your providers of vitality, warmth and summer who you cannot live without. there’s a constant, gravitational pull that keeps you all together, except the balance has now been thrown off entirely. you realise what the answer was all along and you quietly admit, “the argument.”

she places a hand over yours, comfortingly stroking your knuckles as she sympathises, “i think so too.”

promptly, you feel your eyes pricking with the sting of tears and in a moment of fragile vulnerability, you plead to haneul in a shaky voice, “what am i going to do without them?”

“come here,” she whispers.

she pulls you into her, your body immediately going slack in her embrace. you cling onto her like a lifeline, afraid that you are going to drown in your cries of anguish. you don’t know how long you stay buried in her chest grieving for the friendships you have lost, but your neck and back are sore with stiffness by the time you calm down. still, she doesn’t let go of you– not until you make the first move to pull away.

haneul continues to stroke your hair, soft shushing noises as she rocks you back and forth with her. when your shuddering breaths have resided and steadied out, she breaks the silence softly, “y/n, i think there’s more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you’ve lost your closest friends.”

your throat is scratchy when you mumble, “what do you mean?”

“i can’t tell you because that’s something that you’re going to have to work out for yourself. but after you figure out your own feelings, talk to them. communication is the first step to solving any problem, and i think you’ve realised just how much miscommunication could have been avoided leading up to the argument.”

you know she’s right, but your chest shrivels up on itself in fear. “what if they don’t answer my messages or calls? what if they really don’t come back next summer?” what if they hate me forever?

haneul rests her cheek on the crown of her head, “if they take a step back, then why don’t you take two steps forward?”

her words slowly sink in and when they do, you inch out of her embrace. haneul cannot help the smile that adorns her own face in tandem with the one that starts to peek out along your lips. your face is still red and blotchy but there is now a ray of emerging hope as your voice trails off, “you mean…”

“yes, y/n,” haneul nods. you feel goosebumps spreading across your body when she affirms your thoughts.

“go to seoul and talk to them.”

summer passes and autumn comes. the days grow shorter as the nights become longer and the weeks blur into a haze of monochrome darkness. the leaves and flowers fall off the trees, nature gradually stagnating and waning into nonexistence, much like the groupchat you share with the boys that has remained untouched since summer.

in a feverish state of resolution the very same day you had cried in haneul’s arms, you had booked an express bus trip that would take you directly from namhae to seoul. yet, despite telling yourself every weekend that you’ll make the trip, the ticket remains unused. whenever you see your last message to san– a meek question asking if he had arrived back in seoul fine– that continues to stay unread, your courage crumples and you reschedule the date for the following weekend.

the cycle repeats itself well into autumn. that is, until he breaks it.

you’ve spent the last few days thinking about this very moment. there are only a few minutes left until midnight, which will mark the end of jongho’s birthday. you’re unable to count the number of times you have opened his chat, typed out a message, then exited without actually sending it.

currently, the text cursor in jongho’s chat blinks back at you like your own indecisiveness wavering back and forth between messaging him and not. the minute ticks over once more– it’s now or never. you let your thumbs skim across the surface of your phone before you can contemplate any further. it’s a simple message; only reading two lines.

happy birthday jongho how have you been?

really, you mean ‘how have you all been?’ because you cannot care about one of them without also caring about the others.

you lock the screen and toss your phone to the side, pretending you don’t care whether he replies or not, as if your phone is capable of sensing anxiousness and will sabotage his incoming messages– that is, if any come at all. but jongho’s last messages to you had been the ones alerting you that he and the boys would be leaving namhae prematurely. surely an indicator that this friendship isn’t entirely lost.

the lecture slides on your laptop may as well be written in a foreign language as you restlessly eye your phone, wondering if he has seen your messages. you know it will be fruitless to continue studying, so you steel yourself for disappointment and reach for your phone. to your surprise, there’s a reply waiting for you.

thanks y/n, i’ve been good

it’s simple and only five words, but that in itself speaks volumes to your relationship. your heart skips a beat when the messages in his chat shift upwards once more as a new text comes in like an afterthought.

i miss you

really, jongho means ‘we all miss you’ because you can be angry at someone, feel hurt by them, yet still love them all the same.

his confession stuns you frozen, your fingers hovering in place over your keyboard. it fills you with longing for more and hope for what may come, but also fear for what could happen. jongho has taken a small step to meet you halfway and you are absolutely terrified of messing things up once more. with your heart pounding in your chest, you carefully type out your next message, send it and then hold your breath.

can we call?

your fingers repetitively trace the rim of your phone case back and forth as you wait for a reply. there’s a rising swell of panic that continues to grow when nothing comes and you even exit and reopen the app. what you don’t know is that jongho almost trips onto his face in his hurry to untangle his legs from out of his blanket so that he can lock himself in the bathroom to call you without waking the others.

the phone nearly falls out of your grasp when the screen suddenly lights up not with a message but a call. you let it ring for a few seconds to gather your own composure before sliding the button to nervously answer, “hello?”

“hello?” comes jongho’s reply.

your voices overlap as you both simultaneously talk, “can you hear me–” “hi–yes, can you hear me?”

“yeah, i can hear you too, hi,” you breathe out, face breaking out into a smile.

the exchange has jongho letting out a giggle and the sound immediately releases all the tension that has built up in your body. your eyes start to mist over as you let out your own bashful laughter, because it is so much more than just missing the sound of jongho’s happiness. you’re reminded of crashing waves and windswept fringes; heavy surfboards and helping hands– the summer days when everything was happier and simpler. how did everything end up the way it has?

“thank you for replying to my message, jongho,” your voice is unsteady.

he must hear the way your throat threatens to close in on itself, because his voice is warm-hearted when he tells you, “no, thank you for reaching out first.” and as much as he finds it difficult to express himself, his next words spill out easily. “sorry i didn’t do it first…it must have been hard for you all this time.”

and just like that, so comes the first of many owed apologies. it doesn’t matter that you have to be awake in five hours to make it to your first lecture, nor that you don’t have a perfected script for all the things you want to apologise for. and it doesn’t matter that jongho is starting to feel cold sitting on the bathroom floor, nor that he can’t hold you like he wants to do. what does matter is that you’re both talking again.

as the night grows older, the conversation eventually flows away from raw confessions of your hearts to familiar topics of your mundane lives. it feels like the normal phone calls you used to have with the boys, except this time it’s only with jongho.

“what about you? have you been busy?”

you nod, even though he can’t see you over the call, “i’m trying to keep up with classes but it’s hard with all the assignments due soon.”

“yeah, i have another huge film project and it’s taking up all of my time, too,” he exhales, then tentatively asks, “what about…how’re things with johnny?”

it’s strangely exciting to clarify, “we actually broke up a few months ago.”

you can hear jongho’s sharp inhale even from over the phone. the conspiratorial tone of his voice painfully reminds you of wooyoung’s nosiness as jongho asks, “please tell me you broke up with him and not the other way round.”

“yes, i broke up with him,” you chuckle. “he talked shit about you guys the moment you all left, so i dumped him.”

“he deserved it,” he gleefully states.

“only i get to mess with my friends…literally.”

the joke is at the expense of yourself, but it feels uplifting to be able to start laughing about it now that you have started making amends, even if it is only with one person so far. knowing you have somebody on your side makes all the difference in the world.

“it’s actually sort of funny you say that,” jongho muses over the phone. “remember that truth or dare question? the one about choosing between love and friendship?”

you hum in affirmation, “san and i picked love.”

“and look at you, picking us over johnny,” he teases.

huffily, you banter, “picked you guys even though you all left me.”

there’s the tinkle of laughter from over the receiver, but it’s cut short by a faint knock. you hear jongho murmuring to somebody before his voice becomes audible again, “hey, sorry, i need to go now. someone needs to use the bathroom.”

you resist the urge to ask why he’s even there in the first place, but you just tell him that it’s okay, considering how late the time is anyway.

“i’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow,” you affirm. the wide smile on your face makes your cheeks ache as you grip the phone to your ear and wait for him to hang up. you hear the sound of rustling as he stands up and turns the doorknob, then there’s a voice in the background asking, “is that y/n?”

but before you can try to discern who the voice belongs to, the call ends. you don’t let the slight disappointment dampen your spirits though and you fall back to lie on top of your bed. jongho’s last words to you have made you feel like a giddy teenager– tomorrow feels too far away.

but his words before his last words also make you feel like a teenager. only it’s not giddiness but the uncertainty and confusion that comes with adolescence as you try to navigate and understand your own feelings about something. in the face of the situation, had you truly chosen friendship over love contrary to your own expectations?

it makes sense at first to think that’s what has happened, but you’re suddenly reminded of haneul’s words– that there is more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you have lost your closest friends, and that you need to figure out your own feelings before talking to the boys. if you have stood by your own values and chosen love over friendship, then that means…the heartbreak that you feel is grief not for lost friendship, but loss of your first loves– because you are in love with all of them.

that spark of feelings that had remained for the boys had never become fully extinguished. when you agreed to date johnny, perhaps it was only because he had reminded you of them and you had mistaken the flutters in your stomach for romantic attraction to him. and so, left unattended, that very spark has now flourished into a wildfire that can no longer be controlled, neither can it be contained– it’s time for you to talk to them.

you pick up your phone again and send out a message, this time with no hesitation. it reads, ‘i need your help’.

and the reply is immediate.

anything you need

it’s the first day of winter when you arrive in seoul.

you get off the express bus at the terminal with both hands empty and only the bag on your back; you don’t plan on staying for long so you didn’t bring much with you. immediately, your breath fogs up in the frigid air and you nestle more snugly into the warmth of your coat. there’s a reasonable crowd of people at the terminal, so you crane your neck in search of jongho’s familiar tuft of brown hair, who had offered to pick you up knowing that this was your first time travelling up to seoul.

the last text he had sent told you that he had arrived and was waiting for you at terminal six. as you make your way closer, eyes squinting to discern whether you are seeing things correctly, you think you’re able to make out jongho’s side profile leaning against a brick wall.

except, he’s not alone. your footsteps start to falter because seonghwa is also there. ironically, he’s the one who spots you from afar. he pushes himself away from the wall and turns his body towards you as jongho questions whether he has spotted you.

ever since the night he had overheard the younger on a phone call with you, seonghwa has been aching to make things right with you again. he had been afraid that you would want nothing to do with them anymore and that you would slip away from their fingers just like that. but here you are in seoul, just a mere distance away from him.

seonghwa’s eyes start to water and your expression crumples almost immediately with his when he opens his arms with an offer of an embrace. his feet rush to close the distance when you throw yourself into his chest, the cashmere of his coat rubbing softly against your cheek.

“i’m sorry, hwa” you murmur.

“i know,” he whispers, stroking the back of your head, “me too.”

jongho silently watches with a small smile and allows you both to have your moment of reconciliation with each other. as you breathe in the comfortingly familiar scent of seonghwa’s cologne, you gesture for the other to come closer so that you can pull him into a group hug. and here, surrounded by both of them, despite there being several other things you want to say– poems of apologies and ballads of confessions– for now, this is more than enough.

seonghwa is the first to pull away suddenly as if he has been electrocuted. “hang on, are you and johnny still…” he trails off.

despite the snort of amusement that leaves you, you’re touched by his thoughtfulness to maintain respectful boundaries. “don’t worry, we broke up,” you reassure him, then you jokingly turn to jongho with an incredulous look. “you told him i was coming up to seoul, but didn’t tell him that johnny’s my ex now?”

he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “that wasn’t in my place to reveal. plus, seonghwa was the one who looked over my shoulder and saw your text asking for my help.”

said man pretends to walk away innocently. you and jongho laugh, trailing after him towards the carpark as you ask, “what was he doing in your dorm anyway?”

“he crashed for the night. our dorm’s close to his workplace.”

when you reach their parked car, seonghwa tugs the passenger door open, but instead of hopping in he gestures for you to go first. you indulge in his chivalry with a chuckle, even more so when he places a hand along the top of the door frame in case you bump into it.

“thanks, hwa,” you say sweetly, shuffling in further when he scoots in after you and leaves jongho alone to sit at the front of the car.

“great, not even ten minutes of making up with each other and i’ve already become the third wheel,” jongho grumbles as he turns the ignition on.

despite the huffiness in his voice, jongho’s heart sings with happiness to see you and seonghwa already getting along like normal. he is willing to be the third wheel– even the ninth wheel– if it means that you and his boys can shine together every day. but for that to happen, it all rests on how the next hour unfolds.

“ready to go?” jongho asks, eyeing you from the rearview mirror.

are you? are you ready to talk to all of the boys at the same time? seonghwa gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and jongho nods at you reassuringly from the front; you’re not going into this alone anymore. you nod, “i’m ready.”

the drive takes less than thirty minutes and before you know it, you’re standing right outside the door to jongho’s shared dorm with wooyoung and hongjoong. jongho swipes and unlocks the door with his access card, however makes no move to push the door open. the fact that neither of the boys say anything to rush you spurs you on with enough determination to enter the dorm. the volume of their chatter increases immediately without the barrier of the door, and you take slow, hesitant steps along the short hallway towards the direction of the sound.

you appreciate when jongho takes the lead to subtly show you where to go but it still feels like you are intruding– which, you technically are, considering two out of three people who live here don’t know that you’re in the dorm right now. rounding the corner of the hallway, you discover that it leads straight to the living room where all of the boys currently are. so it’s fucking awkward when the sight of you emerging completely kills the conversation and a collective hush settles over the room.

you have to fight everything within you not to turn on your heel and just flee, because nothing has prepared you for their initial reaction. you hate the fact that you cannot tell whether the shocked expressions on yunho and yeosang’s faces are ones of delight or displeasure. you hate the way that wooyoung and hongjoong’s bodies tense and become guarded, ready to tell you to leave their dorm. but more than anything, you hate the way that san and mingi cannot even look at you.

“holy shit,” yunho whispers.

that’s enough to set off the others and hongjoong angrily questions, “what the fuck is she doing here?”

wooyoung looks at jongho, “is this why you told everyone to come over?”

you defend, “i was the one who asked jongho for help.”

“i wasn’t talking to you–”

you cut wooyoung off, contrary to your next words, “can you just shut the fuck up for once? i’m not here to start another fight. just–hear me out, please. i’ll leave as soon as i say what i need to.”

he glares at you and everybody holds their breath as they steel themselves for another full-blown argument. but wooyoung does as you ask and folds his arms angrily. nobody speaks, waiting for you to talk as you finally put your bag down and sit a safe distance away.

you close your eyes and take a breath to compose yourself. you refuse to let yourself cry this time. you’ve done plenty of that in the last few months and you have finally come to terms with your own feelings. “i…i’m sorry,” you start.

somebody scoffs, but you ignore it and let the words from your heart take over. “i’m sorry for being such an asshole over the summer–for letting my ex get in between us and for ignoring all the times you told me he wasn’t a good guy. i shouldn’t have assumed that you were all okay with me bringing him along whenever we hung out and i should have asked before inviting him to the campfire. that was something special for us and it was selfish of me to do that.

“in particular, i’m sorry for how that night went down. i know it doesn’t excuse what i did, but i had an argument with hongjoong earlier that day and i was feeling strung tight. i wish i had handled the situation better when i felt confronted about bringing johnny along, and i acknowledge that the words i said can’t be taken back, even if i didn’t mean them.”

nobody needs reminding of the words that you are referring to, because it has sat just as heavily in their hearts as it has your own. the sight of mingi ducking his head down even further has your heart clenching painfully.

even if he isn’t looking, you apologise to him directly, “mingi, i’m sorry we never got to finish our talk. i know that you were going through a hard time and that that trip was meant to be something healing for you–for all of you. namhae was meant to be an escape, but it probably didn’t feel that way…because of me. i mean it when i say you’ll always have a home in namhae and i hope that one day, you’ll be able to trust me on that. in fact, i hope that you all know that namhae is not the same without either one of you boys.”

you hesitate, because not even jongho knows about what you’re going to say next. you avert your gaze to focus on the carpet just in front of you so that you don’t have to see their expressions. “it’s taken this fight–almost losing all of you–and breaking up with my ex to realise just how stupid and blind i am to my own feelings. i always thought i would be happy with just being friends…but you are all so, so much more to me than just friends and ‘whoever’. i think i’m in love with all of you and i know it’s unconventional, but…i guess love has no limits.

“but i’m also going to be honest. i’m still hurt by the things some of you said or did. it hurt that some of you criticised my decisions without thinking about how that might have made me feel. and i know it wasn’t your intention to, but i felt like i was being backed into a corner multiple times when you kept repeating the same things over and over again about my ex without any real constructiveness to your words.

“i don’t expect you to apologise right now, nor accept my apology, and i don’t expect any of you to respond to my confession. i want you all to have enough time to work out your own feelings…if you want to. if you find it in your heart to forgive me and if you want to apologise, pursue friendship again or…maybe something more, then come to namhae and tell me in person.”

there’s half a year left until summer, and as much as things can change in six months, you also hope that this gives you and the boys time to work out what you all truly want from one another– be it friendship or love. nobody moves or says anything, trying to process everything you have said so you decide to leave them to it, having done your part. you make a move to stand and sling your bag onto your back.

“you’re leaving already? where are you going?” yeosang abruptly asks, standing as well.

“back to namhae,” you explain. “i booked a return ticket for the same day.”

san frowns and for the first time since you arrived, he looks at you. “you came all the way here…just to talk to us for half an hour?”

you give him a bittersweet smile, “that’s how important this is to me–how important you all are to me.”

he looks away, unable to hold your gaze. you turn to jongho to ask if he is still happy to drop you back off at the terminal, who nods and begins to pull on his puffer jacket.

“wait,” yeosang calls out. he skitters off down the corridor, socked feet pattering against the floor as he grabs something from his bedroom and hurries back in front of you. “here.”

he has a thick scarf that he holds out for you to take, but as you start to reach for it, he changes his mind. you hold your breath as yeosang carefully reaches over your head to drape the scarf around you. with tender hands, he wraps it around your neck before securing it with a knot. he continues to fiddle with the ends of the scarf and you’re starting to wonder why he is hesitating when he looks at you shyly and mumbles something under his breath. before you can make a noise of confusion, he darts off once again back into his room. seonghwa cannot help but smile fondly, because even if he is unable to hear what the other said either, he knows what yeosang means purely by his actions.

you’re accompanied out of the door by jongho minutes later, carrying a plastic bag of snacks and drinks from their dorm that seonghwa has rushed to put together for you to have on your way back. when you’re in the car, you also find a pair of black gloves in the pocket of your coat. you have no idea who put it there, but the sentiment of one of the boys trying to ensure you are not cold is enough to fill your entire body with warmth.

you may have arrived in seoul with both hands empty and only the bag on your back, but you leave seoul with their quiet acts of apologies and forgiveness on your hands, neck, and in the plastic bag sitting on your lap as your bus pulls away back to namhae.

a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also stay the same. it all balances on the peak of the fulcrum, waiting to teeter either way as summer arrives.

you’ve kept in touch with jongho and seonghwa, so you haven’t been left in the dark anxiously wondering whether they will be returning to namhae or not. but even with their arrival, the uncertainty remains as to which way the scale has– or will tip.

so you don’t walk out to greet them when you hear the resounding slam of shutting doors and the low hum of exchanged conversation, because you don't know whether the other boys want to see you or not. plus, there’s something embarrassing about seeing them for the first time after apologising, much less confessing to them without any certainty as to their feelings, and much much less to eight people at once. you’re doing a pretty good job at hiding and pretending you are completely oblivious to their arrival in namhae.

that is, until mingi knocks on your door. mingi feels like he’s fourteen again, knocking on yunho’s door and crossing his fingers hoping to god that it’s his friend who opens it and not his parents, because mingi feels embarrassed asking them every day if yunho can come out to play. this time, though, mingi’s nervous because it’s you and he’s nervous because six months is a long time where feelings can change. he hopes that yours are still the same.

you’re greeted by a shock of platinum white hair when you open your door and you realise it’s mingi with freshly bleached hair. it looks good– a little too good– and you have to force yourself to peel your eyes away. except your eyes travel down involuntarily to the contrasting black of his tank top, which is at least two sizes too large and dips down dangerously to reveal the shadows of his chest. you’re down bad, and it’s only been ten seconds since you’ve laid eyes on him since seoul.

mingi is looking at you amusedly when you finally lock eyes with him and he seems to stand a little straighter with confidence. he beckons with a gentle tilt of his head, “come surf with us?”

the casualness of his invite throws you off and you wonder if you’ve somehow missed the memo that he’s forgiven you. “you’re all okay with me coming?” you blink confusedly.

“the others can speak for themselves,” he puts it plainly, but then smiles, “i want you to come, though. it’s not the same without you. plus,” his voice mellows out earnestly, “someone’s gotta welcome me home, don’t you think?”

home. home is where the heart is, and for mingi, regardless of the arguments and fights, his heart will always be with the boys and you. because in anger, hurt and love, there is always forgiveness, and mingi has forgiven you.

shyly, you return his smile, “i’ll go get changed, then?”

“is that an invite inside?” mingi leans against the doorframe with faux coyness that manages to make the rounds of your cheeks heat up. you shove him back lightly with a laugh, trying to ignore the firmness of his chest under your touch.

he grins boyishly, utterly pleased with himself, but steps back so you can close the door. “take your time,” he reassures. “i’ll wait for you.”

and he does, just so that you don’t have to walk alone to join the rest of the group. even after you have thrown on a swimsuit and slathered yourself with sunscreen as best as you can, mingi is still outside and yunho has also joined him– you know because you can hear them talking as you search for your house keys in the hallway.

“what if it’s too late?” yunho asks.

“you don’t know that, not until you try,” mingi replies. “here, a kiss for good luck.”

you have no idea what the context for this conversation is, but it suddenly strikes you that apart from mingi, you’ve never discussed sexual orientation with the boys. you may have asked them to consider you romantically, but you can’t say for sure if they even like girls. from what you know, none of them have dated before, and now you’re suddenly wondering whether any of the boys are dating within the group. mingi and yunho are certainly a possibility.

but regardless, you realise this is probably not something you should be discovering by overhearing a conversation, so you deliberately drop your keys to alert them of your presence and wait a couple more seconds before you open your front door.

for the second time of the day, you’re absolutely floored. yunho has dyed his hair an ash grey and it falls over his forehead and down the nape of his neck in messy locks. there must have been a fucking enticing buy-one-get-one-free deal, because he’s also wearing a black tank top much like mingi’s, except his is form-fitting and putting every damned muscle of his upper body on glorified display.

not that you’re complaining. but it’s also very distracting when you’re trying to focus on what mingi is saying as you all make your way down the beach towards the shore, their surfboards hiked against their hips.

“you guys go ahead, i think jongho’s calling for me,” mingi suddenly announces before darting off.

you’re left alone with yunho, and from the back of jongho’s head who most definitely doesn’t even know you three have joined the group, mingi’s plan to slip away has succeeded.

“um,” yunho hesitantly starts, “do you want to try paddling out on my board? i’ll stay close.”

the last time you had attempted anything on his shortboard, you had flipped over and swallowed several mouthfuls of salt water. although you’re not particularly keen on repeating the experience, some things don’t need to be spelt out– the reason for his offer. only one foot is needed to push a bicycle into motion, but two feet are needed to keep it in motion. so you nod and let him drag his surfboard towards the shallow waters for you.

as you trail beside him, seonghwa and jongho greet you enthusiastically on their own boards out in the horizon. yeosang waves too from further down the shore and you lose some of the tension in your shoulders when you know that the intention behind his scarf was not misinterpreted. only san and wooyoung do not directly acknowledge your presence, but unbeknownst to you, the younger is carefully observing your interactions with the others.

“here,” yunho says, garnering your attention.

he holds the surfboard steady in the water, waiting for you to lie on top. his hands stay even after you gingerly shift and balance your weight onto your front. with his guidance, you slowly paddle out past the rush of whitewater waves. yunho is barely waist-deep in the water so he easily manoeuvres you and the board as you try to recall the familiar motion of paddling against incoming swells. but both of you know that you’re not really trying to paddle and he’s not really watching for mistakes.

eventually, you languidly let the waters caress your body as you still, letting the slight waves gently rock your surfboard. one of yunho’s arms have shifted over your back to support the opposite side of the surfboard and your body tingles whenever his forearm brushes over you. his other hand rests near your own, your fingers grazing together whenever the board dances over a swell.

it is within the serenity and solitude of the ocean, and the warmth and proximity of each other’s presence that the conversation happens. yunho apologises and you forgive. it occurs as simply as that, because actions speak louder than words and you have already shared a library of novels with your bodies.

from afar, wooyoung’s internal debate continues to teeter on its fulcrum as he watches the moment you share with yunho. wooyoung may be fast to talk, but he is also keen to observe. he sees the glow of relief and happiness returning to the faces of the boys. what he said to you summers ago still stands true– you make the boys happy and it’s obvious they make you happy too. and all wooyoung has ever wanted is to protect the smile of his loved ones, including you.

the radiance of the smile you give when yunho pretends to flip your surfboard over reminds wooyoung of his failure to do just that. in his blindness for the others, he had sacrificed your smile. the scale teeters over the fulcrum and he follows the momentum of his heart to wade out into the waters where you two still are, his apology ready to spill out.

and so you discover that a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also change in one day. with each relationship that stitches back together, rips now reinforced and sturdier than before, namhae almost feels the same again– summer almost feels the same again. you may still have the two hardest conversations left to be resolved, but if more time is what they need, then you are willing to wait for san and–

yunho and wooyoung scramble to steady your surfboard before you actually tip over when you suddenly move to kneel, head whipping around to confirm your fears. you hadn’t initially noticed as the boys had been scattered, intermittently ducking back into the house, but your heart sinks as you count the number of heads again. you’re unable to fight off the dread in your voice when you dare to ask, “where’s hongjoong?”

yunho’s eyes don’t meet yours and wooyoung’s mouth thins out tightly before he cautiously answers you, “he didn’t come.”

san likes to think that he’s patient. ever since he was young, his father had made sure to raise him to wait. wait for elders to eat before picking up his own chopsticks; wait for others to walk through the door before he enters; wait for others to choose their preference before he picks his. and san likes to think that he has diligently applied this principle to his relationships too. wait to understand someone before criticising; wait for his own anger to subside before talking; wait to reflect on his own wrongs before expecting an apology.

but right now, san is impatient. he catches glimpses of the sweet messages you send jongho and seonghwa and the joyous cackles you share with wooyoung when you prank yeosang. he notices the way yunho and mingi are attached to your hips, and san wants all of that and more. he wants to tell you he’s forgiven you and that he’s sorry too; he wants to cup your cheeks and thumb away the phantom tears he caused; he wants to love you.

but his body is acting as if it’s an entirely separate entity from his heart. he’s unable to approach you, even as he watches everyone else do what he wants to and it frustrates him to no end. and it’s as if the gods themselves also became impatient with his pathetic attempts– or lack thereof– because they drop the perfect opportunity right in front of him.

a quick look at his phone tells san that he’s been tossing on the couch for the last two hours. sleep fails to take over, so he hauls himself up and pads softly towards the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. he stares out of the window above the sink, where he can just see the stretch of beach towards the right. the moon shines brightly tonight and the rays decorate the sand and sea foam with dreamy tranquillity.

there’s a quiet rustle above the stillness of the night. when san turns around, his heart immediately clenches at the sight. you’re sleepily rubbing the bleariness out of your eye as you shuffle your way into the kitchen. there’s a stray tuft of hair that san wants to reach out and smooth down for you, but he opts to grip his glass of water tighter.

you startle, not having expected someone to be awake and most definitely not san. you had stayed over late into the night watching a movie marathon with the boys, and despite your protests, they had convinced you to crash in haneul’s room. tension doesn’t exist between you and the boys anymore, only awkwardness with san and…avoidance with hongjoong.

“couldn’t sleep?” you murmur, voice unguarded and still thick with sleep.

san shakes his head, “you?”

“got thirsty,” you explain, grabbing a glass from under the counter.

he hums at your answer and then it grows silent again. it’s only after you drowsily blink at him that he realises why you’re not making a move to get water– he’s still standing in front of the sink. san starts to step out of the way but thinks better of it. reaching out to grab your glass, he fills it up with water and then returns it to you.

“thanks, sannie.”

it doesn’t register in your head that the nickname has slipped out. for him, though, it echoes and ricochets in the very caverns of his ribcage. hesitantly, he mutters, “you’re welcome, pipsqueak.”

it tugs a smile out of your lips. “haven’t heard that in a while,” you muse. “kind of miss it.”

and i miss you. san is impatient, and he finally decides that he cannot take it anymore. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he whispers. “i know how badly i hurt you.”

the haze in your eyes immediately fades away at his words and he takes it as a good sign to continue. “i’ll be honest. i hated that the person next to you as your boyfriend wasn’t one of us–wasn’t me, because it didn’t look like he was making you happy at all. and that day you were out working in the field? some of us actually ran into johnny.”

you acknowledge sadly, “seonghwa told me what happened. i’m sorry he was like that.”

“that’s not on you to apologise,” san refutes. “i was the one who asked the boys to keep it from you until we could properly talk after the campfire night, but along with everything that had led up to that point, all my frustrations accumulated without even realising it.”

“i guess that makes the two of us, then. there were arguments you and i both weren’t aware of, and we ended up being the last straw for each other,” you chuckle wryly.

his voice wavers, “i’m meant to be the one person who is always there for you, but i made it feel like you were pitted against the eight of us instead and i’m so sorry for doing that. it should never have been me against you, nor us boys against you. it should have been all nine of us against the problem.”

you can’t help but take the opportunity to tease lightly, “are you calling my ex the problem?”

“exactly that,” he deadpans. “we all did.”

you nod, “thank you for trying to let me know, even when i didn’t listen.”

“no, i’m sorry we didn’t explain ourselves more clearly–or earlier.”

“but you have now, and i understand,” you reassure.

he nods gratefully before hesitating, “there’s something else behind all this that i can’t tell you yet, not without the others here. but when things are…okay with hongjoong again, that’s when we’ll tell you.”

something about his promise tells you that it has to do with the other part of the conversation everyone has been skirting around so far– your confession. faint memories of the interactions observed between the boys last summer and the brief exchange you overheard between yunho and mingi flicker across your mind.

perhaps you should steel yourself for rejection. you don’t dwell on it, though. this may have been the first time your friendship with san had been so close to shattering, but you know that it will take more than the entire universe to completely break you apart; you still trust him– because before it was the nine of you, it was you and san against the world.

“then are we okay now?” you ask, needing the confirmation.

“yeah,” he smiles breathlessly, “more than okay.”

the caverns of san’s dimples– the ones you love so much– shyly peek out to greet you in the faint glow of the moonlight coming in from the window. he reaches out silently and you understand immediately. you intertwine your fingers together.

san wants to ask you to go to bed with him. not to do anything sexual, but to simply hold you against his chest; trace the curve of your nose; wake up to your sleepy smile in the morning. but he can’t, not yet. not until you’ve worked things out with hongjoong, and not until you’ve had a talk together– all nine of you.

he settles for tugging you in the direction of haneul’s bedroom, hand never letting go of yours as he softly ushers, “let me tuck you back into bed.”

and so fifteen years after your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer still takes the form of a sweet, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.

your instinctive reaction is to shut the door in hongjoong’s face.

when seonghwa had texted you asking you to open your front door, you had been expecting said man for obvious reasons. so when you pull the door open and see kim fucking hongjoong at your doorstep in fucking namhae instead, of course you slam the door shut. because why the fuck is he here?

“oh shit,” you curse, when it registers in your brain.

hongjoong is here and you’ve just shut the door in his face. if you had even an ounce of collectedness in you, you would realise that the boys’ initial and very much candid reaction of shock to seeing you randomly show up at their dorm in seoul is suddenly very relatable. you yank the door open again.

“sure, why don’t you just go ahead and punch me in the fucking face too,” hongjoong scowls.

immediately, you furrow your eyebrows, “well, if you’re offering…”

“oh, fuck off,” he raises his middle finger at you.

you raise both middle fingers in retaliation, “yeah, back into my house that you’re standing in front of.”

“for god’s sake–kim hongjoong!” seonghwa hisses in exasperation, head poking out of san’s door as he eavesdrops to make sure this exact thing doesn’t happen. “you’re here to apologise!”

hongjoong appears rightfully berated, then he looks at anything but you as he huffs, “can i come in?”

“depends,” you cross your arms defiantly. “are you going to try and kick me out?”

despite the prickliness of the conversation, it almost feels right in a sense. as if there’s no real heat behind your words and you two are back to the easy banter you used to have– before your near-kiss with him. this time, though, seonghwa hisses your name in frustration.

“geez! okay!” you fluster as you step back and open the door wider, letting hongjoong in and away from the prying ears of the older.

you sit tentatively on your couch and he mirrors you, scratching the back of his neck as he perches himself on the edge. it’s awkward and tense when it becomes apparent to the both of you that you’re alone. “i didn’t think you would come,” you break the silence.

he hums softly, “me neither.”

you don’t know how to respond so you don’t, allowing the quiet to settle over your living room once more. eventually, hongjong opens his mouth quietly, “i was–am ashamed of myself.”

you’ve been there before– on the other side of the conversation as the one doing the apologising. you know how difficult it is to be honest about your own emotions, particularly the negative ones, so you wait patiently for him to find the right words.

“i’ve been ashamed ever since the night i tried to kiss you. i was a coward and i did nothing to change it. i only ended up hurting you and i’ve regretted it every single day. i think about why i didn’t talk to you afterwards, why i said those things about you and your ex…why i didn’t just kiss you.”

you can’t help but inhale sharply at his confession, because that can only mean one thing.

hongjoong gathers the courage to look at you as he admits, “i did like you. i still do. but i was an idiot and thought that i was doing the best thing for everybody. i shouldn’t have made that choice for you nor tried to have a say in your love life. i was jealous and i know now how toxic i was being, which is why i was so stubborn about not coming to namhae because i didn’t think my apology would be good enough. so i’m sorry for all the things i said and did, but i’m also sorry that it took me this long to talk to you.”

he looks so uncharacteristically unsure of himself as he timidly asks, “will you forgive me?”

there’s not a moment of hesitation before you’re closing the gap between the two of you on the couch so that you can wrap your arms around him. and in a rare display of vulnerability, he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. you comfort, “i forgive you. there are a lot of things i’m ashamed of doing too. but we all make mistakes and that’s what helps us to grow.”

“you still like me?” he mumbles into your neck.

you laugh at the ticklish feeling, “very much so, hongjoong.” because in forgiveness there is love, and you have years of owed love to show the boys.

only when your sides become cramped and your necks become stiff do you finally pull away from each other. as you make eye contact with him though, you’re suddenly reminded of his confession. you know that you will need to have another talk with hongjoong about it, and you still don’t know where the other boys stand in terms of pursuing something romantic with you, but that will be for later. right now, you are content and at peace– the nine of you against the world once more.

“let’s go find the rest of the boys?” you ask.

he grins, holding a hand out to pull you up with him as he answers, “let’s go.”

just as hongjoong puts on his shoes by the doorway, he distractedly questions, “why are these here?”

you frown and follow his line of sight, settling on the top of the cabinet in your hallway where a pair of gloves sit– the ones you had discovered in your coat on your way back to namhae. “you know who they belong to?”

“yeah,” he nods, absentmindedly touching them before walking out the door. “i bought them last year, but they were too big so i gave them to san.”

it was san who hid them in your coat.

you numbly follow his steps outside where the boys have gathered in waiting and are sitting side by side on the embankment, facing the ocean. they are simply living in the moment, basking in the golden rays of sunlight and the warm touch of the person by their side– an arm around a waist; a head on a shoulder. you almost don’t want to disturb them, but you know the seven of them are not complete. not without hongjoong, and not without you.

and as your gaze meets san who smiles at the both of you, his chest swelling with relief, pride and love, you realise that san had bared his heart out to you long before you even knew.

once you fall back into routine with them, it starts to become obvious. the way the boys naturally gravitate towards one another with doting gazes and lingering touches; the casual use of a pet name or flirtatious joke; the shifts in dynamic you had noticed before that seem to extend beyond friendship. it starts to make sense when you realise that that’s exactly the reason– no longer are their relationships purely based on platonic love, but romantic love.

it’s why yunho knocks his forehead against mingi’s just to see him smile, and why san pretends to grumble when wooyoung kisses his cheeks, only to give the younger a proper kiss mere seconds later. it’s why jongho never lets yeosang carry his own surfboard even if he’s just as strong, and it’s why seonghwa and hongjoong like to disappear into the shower together.

but the longer you mull over these interactions for, the more you realise that they don’t seem to be simply ‘paired off’. you notice how jongho refuses to be cuddled but will nestle against seonghwa when he’s tired, and how yunho and yeosang seek out each other’s company before bedtime. you notice how wooyoung squeezes hongjoong’s ass underwater to make him yelp, and how san and mingi are content to just sit together on their surfboards on the sand.

rather than a question of who is with who, it becomes a question of who isn’t with who, and this time, you also find yourself mixed into the equation. but it confuses you whenever they treat you the same and you find yourself holding back despite your feelings, because it’s much harder to tell what kind of love they’re giving you when you yourself yearn for the intimate type.

san notices the change in your demeanour, as small as it may be, and decides it’s time for the talk. so here the nine of you sit on the beach that stretches in front of your houses. the sand is still warm from the sun even as it starts to dip towards the horizon of the sea. yeosang’s jacket lays over your bare legs and a slight breeze tugs delicately at your clothes.

“okay, so who’s telling her?” yunho elbows wooyoung as soon as the words leave the latter’s lips.

“what? how else are we meant to start the conversation?” wooyoung complains before mocking, “the reason i have gathered you all here today–”

rolling your eyes, you cut to the chase, “are you all dating each other?”

wooyoung chokes on his own words and everybody else looks at you with wide eyes.

“how’d you know?” yeosang startles.

seonghwa agrees, “i didn’t think we were that obvious,” but when you simply raise an eyebrow in response, he’s quick to amend, “okay, maybe we were.”

san eyes the others to see if anyone wants to step in and lead the conversation, but when nobody does, he speaks up to explain, “we’ve been dating each other for just over a year now–so before last summer. it took a bit of time to work everything out, establish boundaries and communicate what we wanted from one another, but we’re happy like this.”

“once our relationship had settled down a little, that’s when i came out to my parents,” mingi adds, “which didn’t go down well. we wanted to tell you last summer too, but…other things happened and it all fell through before we could talk about it.”

yeosang meekly scratches the back of his neck as he says, “it’s long overdue, but we’re telling you now.”

the chuckle that comes out of you is light and carefree. “i’m happy for you guys,” you affirm sincerely. “i don’t think there’s anybody else who is more perfect for you guys than each other.”

you truly do. you’re thankful that they have one another and you finally understand how hard it must’ve been for san during your argument to pick a side. his boys were and are his priority and you cannot fault him for putting them first. but then you’re reminded of hongjoong and his confession. are the others aware of his feelings?

said man has the audacity to frown at you in confusion. “why does it sound like you’re just wishing us well?”

“am i not allowed to do that as your friend?” you mirror his expression.

“god,” hongjoong exhales. “do you think we’re telling you this just to reject you?”

“of all people to say that–rub it in my face, why don’t you,” you grumble.

he starts to grasp the situation as he looks at the rest of the boys, “wait, did nobody fucking confess to her apart from me?”

the explosion of responses to his question is immediate.

“you confessed–” “–i thought we agreed to confess together–” “–trust you to cut in line! that’s not fair!”

your eyes dart wildly from side to side, unsure of who to focus on as they all start to passionately talk over one another. at one point, someone tries to chuck a handful of sand in hongjoong’s direction, but it scatters innocuously before it can even get close.

“hold the fuck up,” you yell over the commotion. “confess what?”

“how did you figure out that we’re in a polyamorous relationship but not that the feelings extend to you as well?” yeosang judges you.

“i didn’t want to project my own feelings and misconstrue anything. plus, none of you have actually mentioned liking or dating girls before, so i just…”

“assumed we didn’t have feelings for you,” seonghwa concludes as you laugh awkwardly.

wooyoung deadpans, “we may have wanted to punch your ex in the face for his shitty-ass personality because we were your friends, but we were also jealous as fuck.”

“all of you?” you ask in disbelief.

“all of us. some of us were just better at hiding it,” mingi looks pointedly at the boy sitting on his left.

“you’re one to talk about hiding your feelings,” hongjoong counters before turning to you to expose, “mingi wouldn’t shut up about you after he met you.”

mingi immediately shoves him backwards into the sand.

“look,” jongho cuts in, “what we’re trying to say is that we’ve all liked you for a while now, and if you still feel the same way about us, then we’d like to take our relationship with you to the next step.”

how many times have you wanted this moment– for all of them to return your confession. but now that it’s actually becoming a reality, it’s honestly a little daunting. “you’re all serious about this?”

a lot will change over the next year. most of you will join hongjoong and seonghwa as postgraduates and start full-time work. san will move back to namhae, but whether the others will follow or stay in seoul is unknown. there are a lot of uncertainties regarding the future and the relationship will only work if everyone is serious about making it work.

yunho answers on everyone’s behalf, “we’re very serious.”

you take a moment to look at all of them one by one, only to find the same promise within their gazes– that even if things become difficult, they want to face it with you by their side.

it feels right when san is the one to officially ask the question, “y/n, will you be our girlfriend?”

like san once said, it’s hard to find friends you love, but it’s even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, and you’ve been blessed with not only one, but eight of these people. between friendship and love, you already know from experience what you will decide– so you make your choice.

“i forgot, are hongjoong and wooyoung coming down this weekend?” san pokes his head in through the doorway.

you eye him from the mirror, face void of expression to reply, “don’t count on it.”

san’s pout is immediate and you laugh, shuffling over to console your boyfriend from where you had been getting ready in your shared bathroom. he grumbles, “you’re never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?” but he can’t hide the way his lips pull upwards the moment you press a chaste kiss against his cheek in apology.

“hongjoong said that there were a couple of delays with filming, so he and wooyoung can’t step away just yet. but they’ll come back next saturday if they can wrap things up by then.”

as you talk, san takes the halter straps out of your grasp so that he can help secure your top around your neck. “it’s so hard to align everyone’s schedules together. i miss the long holiday breaks we got in college,” you absently complain, body relaxing under the ministrations of san’s hands as he gently squeezes the nape of your neck.

“me too, love,” another voice joins the conversation. seonghwa walks up to tenderly ruffle san’s hair and nuzzles your temple with his nose. “but we have to work hard to pay off this house and to spoil you with whatever you want.”

seonghwa has grown out his hair and has kept it long since, and you love running your fingers through his silken waves before he goes to work every morning. he always looks so soft and cosy with his round glasses and fluffy sweaters that you know his school kids adore just as much as you do. but right now, his face bare of makeup and hair pulled back into a messy updo, wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts to show off his upper build, he looks the complete opposite of what you’re used to seeing and you feel your stomach doing flips in response.

you lean into both of their touches as you giggle, “we could have bought a smaller house. nobody sleeps in their own bedroom anyway.”

“well can you really blame us for being madly in love,” seonghwa grins, stealing a kiss from you that only serves to elicit more giggling.

“that’s true. your beds are always warmer than mine,” you agree.

“exactly. now come on, are you ready to go?”

the three of you walk downstairs to the living room, where the rest of the boys are waiting around in various mismatches of shirts, tank tops or only shorts. after two weeks of attempting to keep everybody’s clothes separate once you’d all moved in together, they had simply given up and made their wardrobes communal.

as you drop a spare bottle of sunscreen into your tote bag, a pair of arms snake themselves around your waist. you turn around, sweet smile ready to greet whoever it is. your jaw drops, “wooyoung?”

his eyes sparkle with mischief, even more so when your eyes grow even wider at the sight of hongjoong perched on the edge of the couch in the background and you exclaim, “hongjoong? i thought you two weren’t coming until next week?”

wooyoung takes the opportunity of your dazed compliance to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. “we caught up with the schedule,” he exclaims happily. “you should’ve seen hongjoong though. director kim made sure to work us hard.”

you playfully wriggle yourself out of the vice-like hug you’re in to bound over to the older, who automatically opens his arms to welcome you. you slot easily between his legs and his hands rub the sides of your back fondly as he looks up to ask, “did you miss me?”

forgoing an answer, you lean down to kiss him. wooyoung immediately complains, “why didn’t i get a kiss?” so san pulls him in for one to appease him. you’d never be able to leave the house otherwise, because then everyone would start demanding your kisses. and considering that it has been a few long months since you last had quality time with all eight of them at the same time, there would be too many wanted kisses to count.

one thing you had all agreed on prior to buying a house in namhae was to ensure it had a beach front, just like your and san’s old home. so it doesn’t take long to carry your surfboards– save for you; the boys like it when you use theirs– and towels down to the shore.

you close your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and subtle feeling of ocean spray on your skin. it’s a bittersweet emotion, knowing that it’s already the last day of summer, but only today have the nine of you been able to align your schedules this year. it makes you appreciate these fleeting moments of rest though, and you learn to find rest in each other too.

some of the boys start slipping off their tops, dropping them onto the sand to keep them dry as they surf. you’ve found that the greatest perk of dating them is that you’re allowed to openly and unashamedly ogle at them. the rigid shadows of their muscles reveal the discipline and hard work they put into maintaining their bodies despite their busy jobs.

san had also been monitoring his protein intake leading up to his recent dance showcase, so it’s very hard to look at the expanse of his broad chest and prominent dip of abs down his hips without feeling a rush of heat in your lower stomach. if the boys know that you offer to help them reapply sunscreen just to get a little handsy with them, then nobody says anything. (they offer to help you reapply your sunscreen as well.)

you’re content to just lie down on your towel and watch the boys, yeosang in his usual place by your side as he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder and traces the names of his lovers onto the skin of your stomach. mingi starts dragging his surfboard into the water, but when wooyoung attempts to push him in instead– and fails miserably– all thoughts of surfing are quickly forgotten. it becomes an absolute shitshow when hongjoong gets mistaken for the culprit and mingi picks him up. 

“it wasn’t me!” the older shrieks, but mingi has no ears for reasoning and prepares to drop him into the water. unwilling to go down by himself, hongjoong grips mingi’s neck at the last second and successfully drags him underwater with his weight. as wooyoung runs away absolutely delighted by the outcome, his trajectory unfortunately runs into jongho, who cuts off his cackles with a giggle, a simple shove sideways and a resultant splash.

not even bystanders can catch a break, and seonghwa screams for mercy as san and yunho suddenly grab his arms and legs. they sway him from side to side before letting him go with the momentum of the last swing to fling him into the ocean. everyone erupts into a united clamour of glee at the dunking of the eldest and you find yourself shaking your head at their unchanging antics.

you don’t think you can ever get tired of watching their radiant smiles of happiness and shared touches of sun-kissed skin, nor can you ever get tired of hearing their tinkling chimes of laughter and rowdy shouts of mischief. you may all grow older and there may not be as much time or luxury to simply bask in the joys of summer any longer; these golden hours that you are living in right now may forever remain as your sole memories when you reflect back on the essence of your youth.

on this day– the last day of summer in namhae– you find that summer takes the form of shared ice cream with sticky kisses, long showers with warm touches, and hushed pillow talk with synchronous heartbeats. but it doesn’t matter to you, not anymore.

the seasons will change and the years will pass, but so long as you are with your boys, every day will be summer.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 1/4

(König x F!Reader)

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Word count: 5.3 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Lol what now? König dual wields 2 swords, goes Mike Tyson on his enemies, teaches his captive girl constellations in German, cuddles her and feeds her grapes, buuut mainly just tries to get into her pants (which historically did not exist at the time) A bit of a slow burn, but don't worry, they'll bang eventually ^^

AD 90, somewhere in the untamed frontiers of the Roman Empire…

The end of the world is here.

Not only have the crops failed for two years in a row, making chieftains beggars and beggars food for the fish, but now there are rumours that the god of war has arrived to destroy the land. The accursed Romans had turned their eagle gaze back to your land after years of sending their troops elsewhere, making it seem like they were not interested in your distant land after all. Untamed, they called it, harsh and barren and therefore inferior – your lush, abundant, beautiful land. No doubt they spat on it in their war councils because your roads were not paved, because your crops and villages were modest, and the women sometimes fought alongside men. Their storytellers immortalized false tales about you, calling you barbarians, but the only barbarians you could think of were the Romans themselves – crude, filthy and boorish creatures, drowning in wine and shit in their cities.

Rumours started to get fat and distressed when the troops approached your village. They said there was a giant at the head of the army, that the Romans followed a Titan's son who loved to eat men, torture women and impale children. They said he didn't accept proper food but preferred to eat his fallen enemies, washed his weapons with the blood of children, and split captured women apart with his cock, as long and sharp as his sword. They told that the Titan ordered his soldiers to poison the wells and destroy the growing crops with salt and vinegar. The rumours said that his tent was bigger than any chieftain's house and that he still struggled to stand at full height inside it. 

Even the land itself seemed to bow before him. Good weather followed his conquest wherever he went; ambushes failed, scouts got caught and tortured, exposing more villages to pillage and ruin. Your brother told you to flee the village, but how could you survive without your clansmen? You didn't know how to hunt; you barely knew how to fish. Your task in the village was to gather clams from the shore, dye wool and help the old Seer. How long could you survive on sorrels and clams alone?  

. . .

The old woman calls you to see her on the brink of war, and tells you to prepare for a ceremonial offering. Two horses, black as night if possible, brown at the very least, to appease the Great Mother of the Earth and quench her thirst for blood. If the Mother is satisfied with your offering, She will perhaps stop the approaching army or convince the Titan to leave your village alone.

She does a small rite before you, and you need to stay with her through her visions. You hate the smell of the leaves she burns, and try to cover your nose with your tunic to prevent breathing in the bitter fumes. The seer looks like she’s just lying herself down to sleep, but it’s always a burden when the spirits arrive and she starts to talk. You turn your back on her to coax them to rise: a mortal stare annoys the chthonic ones. You nearly fall asleep too as you wait, wanting nothing more than to go back to your own hut and have a good night’s sleep. Perhaps because you’re lousy tonight, and less vigilant as you should be, the spirits arrive sooner than either of you thought.

“He’s strong,” the seer croaks from the earthen bed, and you fight the urge to turn around and peek at the old woman, currently in the clutches of spirits. 

“Invincible… Hungry... The horses…won’t suffice…”

She drifts someplace else, and you try to memorize every word, every intonation, as cryptic or as simple as they are, for later interpretation.

“I see you,” she says in a slightly more cheerful tone, which is odd because the old woman is never happy or satisfied, no matter how bright the sun shines or how much food there is in the storages and pits.

“Me?” You dare to speak even though you’re not allowed to disturb the spirits. You could slap yourself for blurting out a single word, but luckily, the hungry ones don’t attack you for your insolence.

“You.. will be his downfall,” she speaks as if you are having a conversation here. “Be there. When he arrives.”

“...Be there? Why?” You dare to utter again, more concerned about what the Mother implies than the potential fury of some lowly earthen spirits. You haven’t got the faintest clue about what She might be suggesting. Why do you have to participate in the battle? How can you be there without getting killed? You’re not a warrior… The Mother has it all wrong. 

Suddenly, you curse the night, you curse the whole day, knowing your brother’s late proposal was perhaps a warning, a hint from the gods to leave, and leave quickly.

The old woman laughs dryly on the ground - the throaty, outright sick cackle makes you flinch. 

You don’t like this... You don’t like this at all.

“Mother. What must I do?” You demand to know, thinking about how all the gods, spirits, old women, and Titans should go to hell.

“Become a tree,” the old woman offers as if it’s the easiest thing to do. “A flower. Me...”

. . .

You become a marten first, then a bird. Then perhaps a tree.

You climb a spruce and wait there. You wait until the sunrise; you wait until noon. You wait until you see the glint of the Roman spearheads and hear the sound of their march.

You’ve dreamed of the Titan ever since you left the seer’s hut. You’ve dreamed of him slaying everyone in the village; you’ve dreamed of him driving a thick spear into the ground and grabbing you with an intent to raise you into the air and impale you on it. You’ve dreamed of him behind you, above you, inside you. You wake up one morning only to see that half of the people have left. You don’t know where they have gone, and you can’t follow them even if you did because the old woman waits for you in front of her hut and gives you a nod the instant you walk into another beautiful, sunny day.

That’s why you’ve turned into a branch in a tree, but for what purpose, you have no idea. You can’t understand why you must be here to witness the world’s end.

Your men scream and shout and roar as they crash into the thick forest of spears. The enemy is silent: it’s eerie, how the world burns and falls into ruin around you, people are screaming; everyone who has a soul and a heart is screaming for Mother as they die, but the men behind the Roman shields refuse to emit a sound. They don’t curse or shout or summon their gods; they simply stand their ground and pant mist into the air as wave after wave of men break on their shields and die before their feet. Somebody loses his spear because it gets stuck between your clansman’s ribs, but the Roman simply draws his sword in its stead: it’s the only sound among the pitched wails that cut through the forest – the cold, clear ring of a gladius being pulled from its sheath.

That is why you flinch at the sound of the first shout, a brutish command that sends all the shields to the side, only to present more shields: the Romans switch positions in their formation as if they’re not even human beings like the rest of you, just a single enormous creature made of iron and leather and bone, operating it's flat forest of weapons.

And then you see him: the giant of your dreams, the hungry titan everyone has told you about. He rises from the tide of helmets like a summoned god, concealed as one of the soldiers and only now revealing his true nature. He stands at least two heads taller than the rest, pushes his own soldiers to the side and breaks out of the formation these vicious Romans love so much. You knew he would be strong and big, but you didn't know he refused to show his face… You wonder what kind of a monster hides behind the black cloth with nothing but two eye holes ripped on it. As if this man needed the additional effort to stand out from other soldiers...

He's like a God of War, just like the survivors said: his armour is of Roman design, but the amount of metal that had to be scraped together to cover this man's shoulders and chest must've demanded a fortune in gold. He doesn't seem to care about the Roman ways, however: he throws his shield away as soon as he's out of the cumbersome formation as if he has carried it only as a decoration up until this point. He draws another sword in its stead – if any other man did such a stupid thing, traded his shield for a weapon, you would snort. But not now.

Standing between the Romans and your clansmen like a challenge, a threat, a deity, even the men possessed by the seer's blood spells hesitate to approach him. But when they do, the god unleashes carnage: the first warrior gets his stomach slashed open, and the two thick swords look like toothpicks when wielded by this man. A stomach wound is a gruesome, slow way to die - but just before the warrior's entrails spill to dangle between his feet, the brute grants him mercy by sweeping his head off with a single blow of his gladius. 

A roar finally rises from your enemy: they cheer Death on as the head of your neighbour meets the mud next. The soil is already soaked in blood, but the Mother is hungry still. The forest booms with Her bloodlust as the god moves around like a slow tempest of muscle, metal and darkness: he breaks every Roman rule by fighting as his own man instead of demeaning himself as one of them, a lowly part of this odd metal beast before you. He sends a limb flying in the air with a swing of a sword; he uses the same weapon as a bludgeon to bash in someone's skull. He crushes a man's chest simply by sinking down onto one knee, breaking bone, tendon and flesh to splinters as a whole ribcage gets crushed under his massive weight. 

Warriors flee before him, they fall under the combined wrath of the Mother and the Titan's sword. The dead seem to fall eternally, along with your heart, before meeting the ground with a hollow thud. 

Your chieftain is among the last men standing, meeting this unstoppable foe with admirable courage. Not having succumbed to the spells of bloodlust in years, he meets his death as a seasoned but old warrior. With his fighting years behind him, your chief doesn't have a chance against this man, but you have to grant the beast a feather's worth of honour, because he recognizes your chieftain as the veteran he is and salutes him with his sword. Then he proceeds with the bloodbath: flinging your leader's sword and axe easily to the side, he walks straight into his arms like he would into a hug, grabs him by the waist, and raises him into the air like he's nothing but a child. 

Your scream never leaves your lungs as you watch how the Titan raises the draping cloth from his face, just enough to sink his teeth into your beloved chieftain’s neck. The noise that erupts from your elder is not that of a man but a tortured animal. It’s not from this world, what you witness next: the giant tears a hunk of flesh from your chief like he’s a piece of roasted meat. Blood streams forth, his screams fade away all too slowly, and you hear your own weak wail in the air as the Titan lets go of the heap that used to be a strong male and a wise leader. 

Your chieftain is dead; his essence spills to the earth in spurts to appease the God of War, who spits blood and flesh to the ground, making you gag into the cold spring air. 

Then he raises his swords towards the sun, and the forest erupts into a roar with him: the thundering, ear-splitting cheer from his warriors makes the very earth quake beneath your tree. It seems to shake the branches of the forest, and before you know it, the giant’s howl of triumph breaks the one you’re curled around, and you fall, fall, fall into the mud beneath you. 

You're not a tree anymore. No: you’re very much a human woman there in the dirt as the sound of shouting ceases like a distant dream. 

And he turns. 

Death turns.

Mother always said you were a curious creature, which is perhaps why you search for his eyes, even though you should be running. She also said you were a smart one, which is why you know that running is futile. Your limbs wouldn’t carry you far anyway. It is a cruel joke from the gods to have what little strength you have left pour out of you into the ground and up to the feet of the enemy who is already strong, both in body and in will.

The Titan looks at you with genuine wonder, a curiosity that surpasses your own. To your odd thrill, you find that his eyes are blue: the same blue of the sea which you used to collect delicious clams from. 

The soldiers behind him shift with lust – their gear clinks as they devour you with unbridled hunger. The Titan is the only one who looks at you like you’re simply a cute little squirrel who happened to fall from a tree right there at his feet. Then his eyes drop to your breasts, and the familiar hunger that lives in men gives the ocean of his eyes a clouded look. When his stare finds yours again, he's a different man: the treacherous beast of your dreams.

You had hoped for a swift death… Violent but quick. But it’s clear that it’s not death he has in store for you as he takes a step towards you. It’s not a quick nor a slow death; it’s not death at all, because–

No.

No.

You’d rather have your arms torn off and fed to the Romans rather than have him thrust the sword between his legs, his third weapon, inside you. If you’re going to die screaming, it will not happen on your back; you will not amuse this beast with your womanhood and tears.

You scramble forward to pick up something, anything: a bronze dirk from a fallen warrior. The giant’s eyes fall on the sad excuse of a weapon, then on the sorry excuse of you. He thinks you’re planning to fight him with that thing, and the corners of his eyes crease a little from the prospect of having to subdue you. You’re proving to be quite the entertainment, and you curse those eyes, looking so kind and lively when just moments ago, the same eyes were inhuman and possessed. His are the eyes of a wayfarer, a wanderer, not a soldier: you catch a hint of sadness in them and curse again.

He’s not human, you remind yourself and show him what actual humans are made of. What women are made of. You give him another name, Giant, because you’ve always feared giants and hated the stories about them. Dumb and reckless creatures they are, stupid destroyers who always place their trust in their size. You never meant to fight him, and he only catches up on it as you turn the dagger towards yourself and guide it to point straight at your heart. 

You will be his downfall, just like the seer said.

“Nein–Warte,” the Giant speaks his first words, surprisingly soft to belong to a man like him. 

The sorrow in his stare consumes you in full now. It gushes forth like a tide, causing your breath and hands to shake when they need to be stern. You straighten your spine, jut your chin forward, and call for Mother: you don’t even know if you’re yelling for your bearer, or the Great Mother, or the earth that gives life to all. Perhaps you call them all to gather around and witness your sacrifice, higher in price than any of the Titan’s offerings combined. The blood you’re about to spill onto the soil will surely appease the land and raise it to arms to finally fight against this beast. 

He says something else just before you pull the blade back to strike it into your chest, and you curse for the third time in your mind: giants aren’t supposed to move that fast; they aren’t supposed to interfere in your last ritual. 

But the worst of it is that even when he finally subdues you, even as he wrestles the blade away from you, he ends up drawing a large gash on his forearm… As if he is trying his best to protect you from accidentally cutting yourself.

. . . 

You are brought to his tent, screaming. 

It’s not as big as a chieftain’s house; it’s barely the size of yours. But it is larger than the tents you saw when you got carried there: as a spitting, screeching, hissing package of what these brutes would no doubt consider a true barbarian woman with uncivilized manners and a fuckable cunt. They will talk about you around their campfires tonight: about you getting broken in by their true commander. It’s enough to satisfy them for now: to imagine their champion to fuck you bloody and sore. And who knows: perhaps they’ll receive the scraps if the Titan gets tired of you.

The precious dagger is somewhere in the mud, probably trampled there like it’s nothing but a piece of worthless metal. Your own trampling is only about to begin as the Giant marches into his abode and sends the men away, giving you uneasy looks in the process, perhaps checking if any of them had enough time to have a go at you. Luckily for him, you’re in the same condition as he left you: legs together, safe and pretty, because he bound them with a rope along with your hands. You are nothing but a delivery, thrown on the floor of dirt and a few animal skins. He just nods at you, happy to acknowledge that you are untouched by the others, as if it would somehow be worse for you to be raped by ten of those petite men than be raped by him: a cruel, bloodthirsty Giant with a giant cock. 

Your ankles and wrists get sore as you watch him doff his armour. He takes off the helmet, the belted straps, the segmented plates of his shoulder guards and the heavy Roman cuirass. The gods have truly favoured this man, not only gifting him tremendous height but insurmountable strength too. His muscles are large and lean and quiver with latent power as he moves; his back is so broad it almost competes with the wide mouth of the tent. He doesn’t seem to suffer from the cold either, but he keeps his mask on for whatever ghastly reason. Even if there is a monster under that mask, his body speaks of virility: he’s a man in his prime, a giant at his strongest, making you feel like an elf, a tiny little creature in the feet of this man who must be descended from titans indeed.

You continue to watch as he washes his hands in a small basin, cleans his mouth and neck, too. You reckon the water in that bowl is blood red and dark when he finally dries himself with a white cloth. He stands before you in nothing but his mask and the dark red tunic he had under the armour. He ties it from the waist with a simple leather belt, and it only now makes sense to you why Roman soldiers dye their clothes red: you’re pretty sure you can still see the darker spots on the hem of that tunic, the ones that used to be the lifeblood of your clansmen and kin.

He has the audacity to ask you - wordlessly - to clean his wound, the one you caused him. He sets you free from your bounds, and you are given fresh water and another cloth. He even opens a smallish wooden box of salve that has a familiar smell to it: pine tar and honey, used by your people to treat minor wounds and prevent bad spirits from getting into the wound. You wonder how he even knows about such a balm: is this warrior a Roman at all, or is he some odd creature hauled from the edges of the world to fight for them? You wonder if he has made the salve himself, extracted the tar from the pine and foraged the wax and honey himself, then cursed with his coarse language when he got stung by multiple bees…

You drive away the thoughts that threaten to make this brute human by snorting at his injury. The damage he gave to himself when he tried to guide the blade away from you at the price of his own blood. 

It still troubles you that he did it. Even a tiny wound like this can bring any man down if it starts to fester. The cold winds and rains of spring can easily get into the gash and make it rot. 

The idea of this giant being forced to his knees because of some filthy dagger wielded by a squirrel of a woman makes you smile inside. It would be a fitting fate for this man. But the vision also makes your heart sting. The thought of him dying of a simple flesh wound, alone and far away from his home, makes your heart grow kinder than it should. 

You decide there is nothing you can do but treat his arm, strong and scarred from previous battles. He sits down while you get to stay on the ground, and you try to ignore it that your face is now level with his groin. He sits with a wide spread in those powerful thighs, and you wonder if it's because the rumours about his cock are true. You keep your eyes everywhere else except the hem of that tunic and what's going on under there. He purrs at your touch, making it clear that it doesn't need much more than your soft fingertips to get him hard after a triumphant day on the field of battle. 

The wound is not deep, but you clean it carefully, trying to ignore the way his eyes seem to bore into you as you take care of him. Your hand is somewhat steady as you treat the damage with the nice-smelling salve, but you flinch as his hand suddenly meets your cheek. You look up at him, heart plummeting, thighs instinctively pressing together from the gentle way with which he cups your face.

“Schön,” he says, again with a tender voice and an adoring, almost worshipful stare. You don’t have a clue what he’s saying, but you know now for sure that it's not the tongue of the Romans he speaks. The scent of pines and bees lingers between you as he brushes a thumb over your lower lip. You are weak enough to give him a breath, a helpless, hot little exhale that meets his hand like a gift.

“Schön wie eine Fee,” he rumbles, sounding intoxicated or like he's under a spell of sleep.

“What the hell are you saying,” you whisper in your own tongue: just a meek little sputter, a tiny, horrified breath, but the giant’s eyes narrow with a smile.

“Sie redet,” he says happily, and your shoulders sink – you are on the verge of screaming from frustration alone. Whatever you do seems to only amuse this man, and you snap your mouth shut. Your cheeks heat up with recurring waves of odd fever. The ground beneath your shins is all but warm, and yet you feel warm all over: a dangerous sign, you know, and oddly tied to the peculiar bodings you have seen all week.

Because there have been many omens in the air lately. 

It’s just that none of them were portents of war. 

The cranes started to mate early this year, and you have found a lot of clams from the shore every day. Even your brother encountered a boar with nine piglets; everyone celebrated him as some holy man who had seen the Great Mother when he returned to the village that day. The wind started to blow from south soon after, and the moon has grown along with your womb: this morning, on the brink of war, you woke up wet and restless. 

All the omens speak of fertility, of growth, of a new cycle and of birth: of spring and life. There’s nothing about death and decay, nothing except what the people have told you about… him. The death himself. The war god.

“König,” he says as if he can hear your thoughts and wishes to correct them. You look up and see he’s pointing to himself, or rather, holding his hand over his heart. You fight the urge to scoff at the gesture. As if this beast had a heart…

“König,” he repeats the word and pats his chest, and you realize he’s trying to tell you his name. You wrinkle your nose in distaste, and he smiles. It’s easy to tell when he does, even with the cloth that covers his face: you can see the joy clearly from his eyes, the boyish grin that must be occurring under that mask.

“Du?” He points at you next, inquisitive. He has an odd way of pointing: with two fingers, slightly crooked, and you understand very well what he’s asking of you. You refuse to tell him your name, however, settling for pouting a lip at him next. The smile in his eyes only deepens.

“Fee,” he pokes you gently on the shoulder and leans back in his odd Roman chair, seemingly content with having now named you. 

And Mother was right: you are curious, so incredibly curious to know what this beast has chosen to call you and why. Are you a rat to him…? Some bird? Perhaps simply a girl?

He is so pleased with your conversation that he pours himself some wine and drinks the whole cup with one gulp. Great, you sigh inside your head, a beast and a drunkard. He pours another cup and tries to offer it to you, and when you don’t make a move to grab the clay mug, he brings it to your lips. You entertain him with a tiny sip: you’ve heard of wine and know that Romans are fond of it, but you have never tasted it yourself. 

The tart, bitter flavour almost makes you cough. You thought wine was supposed to be sweet: everyone always describes it as something like milk or honey or juice from an overripe apple. It very much is not, and you almost choke on it and then make a wry face at your captor. He - König - only laughs. It’s another thing that catches you off guard: first those boyish, sad eyes and now this hearty, grown man’s laugh. You have proved to be such an amusement to him that he doesn’t force you to drink any more wine and enjoys the rest of it himself. 

Then he rises and makes you shrink from him again, towers above you for a moment, and looks at you with that warm curiosity that makes your heart race.

“Müde?” 

He tilts his head, the bag of darkness shifts, the blue eyes behold you fondly, and for some reason, you whimper an answer to yet another question you can’t even understand. He takes your little squeak as a yes and falls to crouch before you, then raises a massive hand to the leather strings that keep your demure little dress up. 

To your horror, he pulls the knotted tangle open before you can stop him. Your dress falls from your shoulders and drops to pool around you, and you simply and verily stop breathing.

His eyes wash over you, he examines every little part of exposed skin like an entire treasure chest has suddenly opened before him. You pray to all the gods that he would find it in his heart to be gentle tonight. Your nipples perk up – from the cold or from his stare, you don’t know. 

The rough callous of his palm meets your breast and encloses it in warm support. He cups you, weighs you like he would a fruit, and then he squeezes you, rather hard, too: a deliberate attempt to make you squeal again. He replies to your pathetic mewl with an approving rumble, and you look up at him with all the helpless tenderness of the Mother, hoping that Her gentle pleas might persuade this man not to hurt you.

“Please don’t,” you whisper, and his eyes dart to your mouth, to your eyes, then back to your lips again. He immediately softens his touch. Then he lifts you from inside your poor dress, picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, and carries you to his broad bed, the sturdiest you have ever seen. 

This man feels like the strangest of fates, like a hopeless destiny, as he sets you on the skins and straw mattress, right next to your fluttering heart. Your insides ache as he undresses before you, entirely without shame. He’s hard under the tunic he rips off and tosses on the cold ground. Your eyes are glued to the legendary cock you’ve heard so much about, the cock that splits women apart: and it’s true that it's huge. It resembles the ones you’ve seen on horses, not on men, and your thighs are glued together as he comes next to you while that pale, monstrous cock sways long and heavy between his thighs. He moves you around a little, and you squeal from how weak you feel: weak as a mouse as he covers you with one of those rich furs he has in plenty on the bed. Then crawls under it too, right next to you.

Your heart almost wrenches itself out of your chest as a strong arm pulls you against him: the swell of your ass meets his thighs, solid and broad like treetrunks, and your lower back meets the hot, almost too hot horse cock. It starts to leak and throb against your skin the instant your flesh is pressed against his. You try not to whimper and moan as the Giant, König, curls around you like you two have always done this.

He takes a long, earnest inhale from your neck and hair, rumbles deeply and contently, and tightens his grip. Apparently, you smell and feel good… 

You wait and wait to be plundered and raped, but König only settles for holding you tightly, like you’re a children’s toy made of the softest straw and purest undyed wool. You relax slowly, and he purrs against your back, starts to fondle your breasts, ardently, until your body betrays you and you find yourself wet again; he squeezes and squishes your teats slowly, approvingly, then pinches your nipple once before finally falling into a heavy, deep sleep.

…

Please forgive your author for any historical inaccuracies and other silly things you find facepalmable <3 During this time König would've probably spoken some form of Old Saxon but since I'm not a TOLKIEN we have to settle for modern-day German here. I don't have a taglist for this fic so please check my pinned masterlist for future updates.

Translations

Nein, warte - No, wait

Schön - Beautiful 

Schön wie eine Fee - Beautiful as a fairy

Sie redet - She talks

Du? - You?

Müde? - Tired?

[larcenywrites]

All About Fur!

Nightcrawler HCs

I have lots of thoughts about lots of things, and Nightcrawler’s fur is one of them! So I had to get a few things out of my brain 💙 Some x reader stuff in here too ;)

Warnings: a few sexual references | a few fluffy (no pun intended) references | no pronouns or specifications on reader obvi

⚜️Unfortunately, he doesn’t get any fluffier, much to your dismay 😔 a fluffy winter coat would have been cute, after all!

⚜️But even that short fur does get thicker and longer in certain places on the daily 😏 you may notice his jawline is a bit shaggy by the end of a lazy weekend 🤭 that there’s more fur on his chest when you run your fingers through it 🥺 his belly and a line above and below is belly button gets fluffy and curly if he lets it 🥺🥺

⚜️Even if you’ve typically preferred your past partners more… clean-shaven or well-trimmed down there, you surely can’t have any issues with his fluffier crotch and thighs 🥰 the saving grace here is that all of his fur is velvety soft 😌

⚜️Now, while it doesn’t grow any longer outside of those places, he is naturally shaggier in some other areas!

⚜️His forearms are a bit more furry than his upper arms

⚜️The backs of his thighs and his little booty have longer, curled fur 🥰🥰🥰

⚜️Rub a balloon on him and watch it stick :)

⚜️Bathing with him is fun because you get to play with his fur! Run your fingers through it! This is a feature, not a bug!!

⚜️Except now he’s more like a soggy kitten 🥺 a happy one at least!

⚜️The tail is surprisingly not just, like, skin! It is fuzzy! The fur there is very very short and fine, but still soft and fuzzy! It kinda feels like one of those lamb’s ear plants! Or peach fuzz!!

⚜️But the tip isn’t covered in fur 😔 just like the bottoms of his hands and feet!

⚜️He says belly rubs are degrading, but he likes them 😘 especially when that fur on his chest and belly hasn’t been trimmed in a while, he’ll absolutely stretch out and let you run your fingers through it during late morning cuddles 🥰

⚜️Don’t be afraid to pay extra attention to his quasi-beard, too 😉 it’s not the same as pubic hair on a human! It’s just as soft as the rest of him!

⚜️And for better or for worse, you won’t have to worry very much about beard burn, at least!

⚜️He really doesn’t mind being petted anywhere and everywhere— so long as you do, in fact, have a close and/or (preferably) more intimate relationship!

⚜️Though, if all your past partners have been more on the human-presenting side, you’ll have to get used to always getting a mouthful of fur whenever you want to kiss his cheek or affectionately bite his arm 😅

⚜️This also makes it a little more difficult to do body shots tbh 😔 not to mention trying to get any sticky wine out of that fur later 🤧

⚜️Among other sticky things 🤭

⚜️And when you’re trying to be sexy and trying to lick him down from neck to abs 😔

⚜️But!! At least he’s all soft and cuddly :)

⚜️You’ll probably literally be rubbing your cheek against his like some kind of cartoon couple! You can’t help it that he’s so snuggly 🥰

⚜️But it’s gonna get very warm under the covers— and not just because he’s getting frisky 🥲 sorry if you get hot easily!

⚜️Also sorry if you're ticklish 🥺 he’s probably trying to be very sexy and romantic by kissing down your stomach all slow and teasingly 😏 but those fuzzy cheeks are probably going to have you giggling and squirming away from him instead 😅 it’s okay, he’ll work with it 😘

⚜️His tail is also a major offender of this! Sometimes, he does it on purpose, but other times, he’s genuinely trying to be sexy when he wraps his tail around your thigh or waist, but it’s so fuzzy! It tickles!

⚜️And that’s okay, too :) he does love making you laugh 🥰

⚜️But there’s another disadvantage… sweat and fur don’t mix— there’s a reason dogs and cats don’t sweat!

⚜️Bandaids and fur also don’t mix 😬 but hey, it’s a lot more intimate wrapping medical tape around his arm or whatever 😏

⚜️And no! He won’t get fleas 😤

[bleghxy]

More GL manga recs:

Summary: Aya is a high school student who is captivated by the mysterious "Onii-san" who works at a CD store. The real "Onii-san" is actually Mitsuki, a girl in her class with whom she had never spoken to before.

Review: This is a very cute read!!! The story doesn't drag out any drama. When I first started reading this, I was afraid it'd drag the secret of Mitsuki being the "Onii-san" but it doesn't. It's very well paced while also being a slow burn. They're both very well written.

Status: Ongoing

Summary: Bubbly, energetic first-year high school student Himari falls head over heels for her senpai Yori after hearing her band perform on the first day of school. Himari tells Yori she just loves her, and to Himari's surprise, Yori says she loves Himari back! But when Himari realizes that she and her senpai are feeling two different kinds of love, she begins to ask herself what "love" really means...

Summary: They're both so adorable!!! I love their relationship sm. There's a lot of other wlw relationships in this manga so that's a plus point. There's also some angst here and there. It also has an anime adaptation coming out next year!

Status: Ongoing

Summary: England, the early 1900s. Alice, a young noblewoman, has a Japanese maid named Hanako working in her household. The two have a fairly typical relationship…until the day Alice begs Hanako to kill her. As Hanako tries to figure out why her mistress would make such a terrible request, she and Alice grow closer until an entirely new feeling begins to blossom between them.

Review: The summary doesn't really do justice to the manga's plot but I don't want to say much because I'll mistakenly give out spoilers so I'll just say it's angsty so prepare yourself for that. Both of the characters and the relationship between them are very well written.

Status: Completed

Okay this isn't a manga, it's a manhua(chinese comic). I haven't read enough GL manhua to make a list about it so I'm putting it here. This manhua is called Tamen de Gushi. I think the English translation of the story name is called "Their Story"/ "SQ begin w/your name"

Summary: The funny romantic story of how Qiu Tong and Sun Jing met and fell in love.

Review: It was one of my first GLs so it has a very special place in my heart. I laughed a lot while reading this. It's mostly on the comedy side. Qiu Tong and Sun Jing's relationship is so so adorable. The side characters in this story are also lovable. The characters in this feel very relatable. Unfortunately due to censorship in China the author had been told to remove the confession scene of the main characters in the physical copies and the author rejected to do that. Because of this, the manhua doesn't have proper chapters anymore but the author still does post little snippets of their life together on weibo and twitter. However there's still 200+ chapters of wholesomeness so please do give it a read!

If you want more GL recs:

[ethereal-night-fairy]

AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

This idea just came into my head about poly 141 pining after reader during the Christmas time. Imagine the reader is friends with everyone from the tf 141 possibly a part of the 141. But their extremely slow when it comes to people flirting with them. So they have absolutely no idea the boys are so infatuated.

You hang with each member or possibly multiple of them all the time. They're your teammates after all. You go to bars and café with them on your downtime or just cute outings not thinking much of it. You're all friends right? Sure the boys can me a bit touchy and flirty but they're like that with each other too so you don't think much of it.

You enjoy hanging out with Gaz and Soap especially now that it's winter. They treat you to hot chocolate on a cold frosty days arms linked as you walk through a snow covered parks. They're so sweet and attentive. Soap checking your tongue when you burn it on the hot chocolatey goodness. Gaz being a sweetheart and grabbing some snow to put in your mouth to alleviate the pain.

You love getting competitive with Simon and Price. Especially when you guys play pool together at the bar. They take turns teaching you how to play because you suck and like to sulk when you lose. You think they secretly like teasing you though.

They probably get too close and personal fixing your position. Not that you notice but they do. It becomes a competition to see who can get away with the most without you noticing. It's not hard, because again you're very slow to pick up on these things. It's just fun and games anyways, well that's what you think. They often make bets with each other, forcing the loser to give a kiss to the winner. And coincidentally the loser is always you.

Price and you decide to cook Christmas dinner for the boys this year. You see them walking into the kitchen from time to time just to tease you about your festive apron. Making it a point to call you their wife/husband as you cook for them. As the evening goes on your all drinking and having fun. The guys are trying desperately to get you interested in them romantically but you're just not getting it. You think you're just hanging out and having fun with them. The intimate touches and flirty jokes are not registering in your mind because the guys do it to each other all the time. You haven't realised they're in a ploycule as of yet so you're completely oblivious to their advances. You watch them compete with each other to see who can get the most kisses from you under the mistletoe. But you think it's a competition to get the most kisses overall. The winner gets to confess to you first, but you don't know that.

Here's the second part to this - Mistletoe Kisses

Here's the third part to this - Mistletoe Kisses

Sleepy - pre poly ask

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2023. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

[crookedt44th]

ೃ⁀➷ fanfic recommendations

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!! just wanted to make a list so i can come back and read them again! please do let me know if the links doesn't work or linked to a wrong fic! i also did not realize how much im really into strangers to lovers au lord.

if you want your works taken down, let me know

skz masterlists/series

stray kids coffee shop series | all fluff and bit of angst! @hanjisick

to all the crushes (half of skz x reader) | fluff, angst, suggestive content(?). by okayau

hot bitch summer; the skz series | fratboy au, smut. @hyunsvngs

@seospicybin 's masterlist | includes all smut, fluff, and angst.

bold (minsung x reader) | smut. @/hyunsvngs

hopeless in love (ao3) (minsung and reader) | mlm themes, friends to lovers, college au, humor, hurt/comfort. by lucspear [this is VERY fun and cute to read! id read this a thousand times over again!]

bang chan

600 degrees (ao3) | neighbors au, fluff. by the7thcrow

lee minho

blue side of the sky | exes to lovers, best friends to lovers au, fluff, angst, smut. @hyunfilms

when the cat dragged in | smut, angst, strangers to lovers. @moni-logues

lost in translation | smut, strangers to lovers. @moonjxsung huge fan of u dude

dead butterflies | toxic relationships, drug and alcohol abuse, cheating, unrequited love. @lavenderhhaze

invisible thread, part one and two | university au, academic rivals to lovers, slow burn, fluff, VERY angst. @astraystayyh

the only exception | strangers to lovers, slow burn. @astraystayyh

she's like the wind | fluff, angst, smut. @nczennie

you saved that for the end | angst, smut. @pearbunny

message in a bottle | smut with a plot. @chxnsaphrodite

Mr. Gorgeous | fluff, slight angst, college au. @cryinginmyroomsposts

photograph | college au, smut. @minniesmutt

when he sees me (ao3) | smut, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, neighbors au. by candle_wax_and_polaroids

do you feel my hand? it is there | strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort, smut. @blossomwritesthings

what you deserve | college au, smut, angst, fluff. @2chopsticks2eyes

bunny | strangers to lovers, neighbors au, smut, angst, fluff. @tasteleeknow

million dollar man | smut. @ybklix

unrequited & unmatched | focused on lee know and hwang hyunjin (not as pairing), angst, smut, romance (do read warnings on these series though). @jl-micasea-fics

poisonous tears | angst, suggestive content. @hoes4lino

a love letter i wish it didn't exist | romantic, angst, suggestive. @hoes4lino

perfect | light angst, fluff, suggestive. @linospuddin

invisible string | soulmate au, smut, light angst, strangers to friends to lovers, friends with benefits. @moonlinos

when things were simple | 90s romance, school romance, best friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, online au, high school au. @sunboki

there's always time | family au, fluff, smut, angst. @dreamescapeswriting

hwang hyunjin

dear farmer | very fluffy! @puppym3

a train, her lips, the music (ao3) | fluff, beautifully romantic. by the7thcrow

star lost with you (ao3) series still ongoing | idol au, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, unrequited love, angst, fluff, smut, SLOW BURN. by hyunjinspark

han jisung

reckless convictions | college au, beautifully romantic, smut. @/moonjxsung

lee felix

seasons | smut, angst. @moonjxsung requested by me :)))

off the deep end | post-apocalypse au, enemies to lovers, angst, romance, suggestive content. @stayxlix

the bodyguard | enemies to lovers, parental abuse, very angst with evntual happy ending, smut. @skzdarlings

indulgence | vampire au, forbidden love, college au. by the17thcrow

solace (ao3) | 1990s era, friends to lovers, fluff. by fizzydrink698

fading inure (ao3) | vampire au, smut. by hanjizung

vexatious vixen | strangers to enemies to lovers, smut, romantic comedy. @skzdarlings [this fic is actually funny and VERY intense to read. i've been waiting for smth like this. LOVE IT!]

the siren on the stage | smut. @bunnliix

lee felix's guide to hating you | college au, tutor au, fluff, angst, slice of life, slow burn. @yyxgin

churchboy felix | fluff, smut, teen angst. @skzcollision

something in the air | smut. @propertyoftoru

gone boy, gone bad | suggestive, slight enemies to lovers, gangster au, fluff. @starlostseungmin

my girl | smut. @hyunjinniesgirl

bad romance | smut, angst, fluff, slow burn, bad boy au, punk au. @straykeedz

will update more later! i rlly hope to read other ffs of other members soon LOL

[bukguhope]

Fall Back in Love | jjk

> jungkook somehow grew a reputation of sleeping around on campus, leaving him lonely and inexperienced with relationships. so when you, his old childhood best friend moves onto campus, he discovers what a relationship can feel like as he finds himself falling in love with you

> jungkook x f.reader, childhood best friends,friends to lovers, slow burn, light smut, jealous! jungkook, needy!jungkook, mature, mentions of blood and fighting

Fall Back in Love drabble

wc: 17.6k (got carried away)

“why would we go on a date?” jungkook fought the frown that wanted to appear on his face. not again. this had to be the at least the third time this month he’s had the exact same conversation the morning after he slept with a woman he either got chatting to at a party or a local club. it was like every woman within a five mile radius had a meeting and collectively decided to sleep with him then never see him again afterwards. he didn’t want to seem pathetic, isn’t that exactly what the majority of guys his age wanted? in their eyes he had the perfect situation going on, constant sex when he wanted it with no strings attached. what he wanted to know however was how they dealt with the constant loneliness that occurred every time the hook up left? or the heartache that came when he saw a college couple walking around campus throwing their love in his face every morning at 8am? he tried not to be bitter, it was cute they found someone to spend their college years with. no he was bitter, so very bitter. he was a romantic at heart, so how did he get such a reputation that meant no woman ever wanted to even go on one date?

oh he knew how, it was that stupid frat party at the beginning of the year when he started his course. the first week of college was basically back to back drinking, parties and nights out. if you remembered it you didn’t do it right, as most people would say. he knew no one, none of his friends were in his year they had already done this prior to him and were doing other things as they were older and deep into their courses. they encouraged him though, saying he needed to make friends in his own year to make his life easier. so when he overheard of this party some guys on the swim team were having, he decided to go along. well, after a lot of convincing from his older friends because he certainly didn’t want to go. but he built up the courage and found himself stuck right in the middle of the action and after a lot of alcohol, he actually found himself having a good time. he found one friend at least, taeyong, who turned out to be his roommate. he stuck by him for most of the night and when he introduced him to this girl- the night took a turn. it was very evident what she wanted, a one night stand, and jungkook wasn’t about to turn her down not after the nice amount of alcohol in his system. now that wasn’t the problem at all, it was the fact she went around afterwards saying he was definitely a player because of how he acted in bed. she made sure that everyone knew that he was good in bed but for some reason she decided to add in a small little detail. that he had never been in a relationship, and he didn’t want one. where she picked this up from? he had no idea, he did say in small talk he never had a relationship but he did not recall insinuating he didn’t ever want one. so now he’s been totally screwed the entire year, and here he was once again the morning after the end of year semester party this time- getting turned down “right, why would we? just asked to, be polite” the woman chuckles as she changes, jungkook watches his own hands play with each other as she does so. he didn’t want this reputation, no one was taking him seriously. although he didn’t necessarily want to date this girl, he still thought it would be nice to go out and have a civilised conversation for once without loud ass music pumping through his ears and drunk people running around him.

“okay well, see ya” and with that she was out of his dorm and he was alone, huffing he flops back and his head hits his pillows. as he led there staring at his ceiling he came to a conclusion, he was done with this, with the one night stands. he felt so pathetic, at first it started off as some fun but then it turned into just bringing someone back so he had someone to cuddle to sleep - how sad. the sadess part was that sometimes they didnt even stay the night, so occasionally he would end up alone anyway. but now he couldnt do it anymore, he felt used and even more alone then when this all started.  “here he is, the man of the hour”

“taeyong, iam not in the mood” he wasnt even scared of the man bursting into his room anymore, not even a flinch, this happened more often then he would like, he appreciated the guy but boy did he have zero boundaries. 

“dont be so glum, just saw that girl leave. have fun last night did we?” jungkook glared at him as he plonked himself at the end of his bed, he didnt need anymore reminders of the embarrassment he just endured and he doesnt want to engage anymore in the idea that he was nothing more then a good night to these women. especially with the fact that most people did not think much of him growing up, particularly when it came to his feelings. as a kid he was known as ‘the one thats good a sport’ for most of school, everyone just assumed that he was this happy go lucky boy that liked sports and had no deeper thoughts running through his head. no teacher ever asked him in class what he thought of the book they all had to read over the summer, never did classmates ask him for the help with the homework- even though he usually did well on assignments. no they just turned to him for a good laugh. which was fine, he didnt mind because back then he had you. jungkook remembers you so fondly, when he was at the back of the classroom with his hand held shyly in the air when the teacher asked if anyone hand any opinions. of course, he would never get chosen but as the person who did was answering you’d lean over to him and whisper to ask what he wanted to say and that he would say it to you. he also thought about when you would be struggling on a question and turn to him right away to ask him if he could help you, even when the guy at the top of the class was right there on the other side of you. honestly, jungkook felt so valued when you were in his life, you seemed to really care about his opinions, thoughts and feelings. when everyone turned a blind eye to him one day in school because his pet had passed away, not wanting to talk to the school joker because he was miserable, you came right up to him. you asked what was wrong, gave him a hug and told him everything was going to be alright. but he didnt have you anymore, you flew off somewhere right before the end of school and he lost contact. sure, he met his six new best friends shortly after but it didnt make it easier. in fact, nothing about his life was easy at the moment.  “i had the furthest thing from fun” jungkook replied, in monotone making taeyong rasie an eyebrow at him. deep down he knew why his friend was down, taeyong had saw this happening from the very start. he always tried to laugh it off, make jungkook see some sort of funny side but there wasnt any side that he found laughable.  “if only that fucking girl at the start of the year didnt open her mouth” he sighs before he takes a little look at his friend sat on his bed “you’re such a big softie” 

it was summer now, the sun big and bright in the sky as everyone on campus began talking about the array of summer parties that were already being organised. jungkook made a deal with himself that he would not bet attending a single one of those parties, he hated them anyway he didnt know why he always went to them

“just go to them, dont be boring” oh yeah thats why. he glares over to his friend jimin as they sit on the campus yard - their five other friends right there with them

“i see why he doesnt want to” yoongi mutters, making jungkook happy one of them was finally agreeing with him “they get boring after a while, they play the same music and bring the same alcohol every damn time.” jungkook definitely agreed here, of course the main reason was to avoid hookups and every woman looking at him as if he wasn’t a fully functional human that had feelings but he wasnt going to tell them that. 

“we just dont want him to be alone, none of us are in the same year as him. he needs friends that he can see more often” it annoyed jungkook that namjoon had a point, but no amount of debating was going to make him go to anymore parties

“i have taeyong, ill be fine. plus i see you guys enough, more then enough if you ask me” he was about to laugh at his own joke before taehyung threw his jacket directly at his head. 

“you’re the one begging for us to hang out with you all the time, dont get cocky” the group shares a laugh as jungkook huff and rips the jacket from his head. taehyung was of course correct though, jungkook was always asking the whole group to hang out together which these days hardly ever happened. with all of them busy doing their own thing, it left not much time for them to hang out just the seven of them. if he were really honest with himself he’d say he was jealous, because they all made their own friends that were in the same year as them whereas jungkook only had taeyong. he didn’t even have taeyong that often, he was social butterfly and was always of doing something that he end up telling jungkook about at the end of the day. so not only did no women want to spend time with him outside of having sex, his friends also had better things to be doing as well - college life couldn’t get any better.

“i wouldn’t have to beg if you guys actually wanted to spend time with me anymore” jungkook whined as he threw tae’s jacket back at him. the other boys looked hesitantly at each other, there was no doubt they loved jungkook and wanted to spend all the time they could with him. but they had separate life’s, some had girlfriends which paired with college work didn’t leave much time as it was.

“of course we do, we just have other stuff on too” hoseok tries to be as soft about the topic as possible, not wanting to imply jungkook was less important then their other priorities. the youngest knew that the guys wanted to hang out but had other reasons meaning they couldn’t as often as he’d like, if only he tired harder at the beginning of the year to make other friends

“join a club or something, meet new people” jin suggests and the whole group nods their heads in agreement while jungkook sat glumly, he couldn’t think of anything worse then joining one of the clubs. not that he had anything against the people that attended, but nothing interested him. he wasn’t into sport anymore and he took no fascination in anything else available. he used to be a passionate guy, he enjoyed playing football, reading and painting but now he just- was bored at the thought. in fact, he stopped doing all that when you had left probably because you did all of those things with him. you always came to watch him play, sat on the benches wearing his number top shouting his name loudly. you encouraged him to read different books that he might like and sat at the end of his bed while you both read quietly. and of course you got him into painting, brining two big canvases to his house one day with brushes and paint telling him to get his ass outside so you could paint together. he had so much fun when he was a kid with you, never was a day boring because you made it enjoyable. now he didn’t do any of it anymore, there was no one to encourage him to do so nor do it with him.

“would rather show a pinecone up my ass than join a club” jimin snorts at this making jin smack him over the head for encouraging jungkooks attitude. they hated to see their youngest friend so lonely, especially during his college years. they were supposed to be some of the best in his life but he’s spent most of it getting turned down by women who just want to sleep with him and making zero friends.

“oh new subject, new girl just started she’s in your year jungkook” hoseok says and jungkook was far from interested in this, why would he care that someone new was joining? “and i set you up on a blind date” now he was interested, no he was confused and panicked

“what? why would you do that? i don’t want to go on a blind date! are you crazy?!”

“i believe what you were meant to say was ‘thank you’” hoseok replies as his friends freak out. honestly he was tired of jungkook complaining about the way women on campus viewed him without doing anything about it. he thought jungkook should’ve shut down those rumours about him not wanting to date and just stop sleep around as soon as they circulated if it bothered him that much. but of course he didn’t.

“hoseok, i can’t believe you set me up and why did you leave it this late into the meet up to tell me?!” his older friends shrugged his shoulders

“forgot” jungkook appeared flabbergasted at his friends brazen attitude to setting him up on a date without even asking him first

“do you even know her name?!”

“nope” the younger groaned as all his friends laughed, truly he wanted to get out of this blind date but without as much as a name how the hell was he supposed to do that? he was sure hoseok wasn’t going to cancel it for him. “all i know is, you’re meeting her outside the music building tomorrow. be there for 6pm sharp”

“tomorrow?! and you’re telling me now?”

“at least i didn’t wait until tomorrow to say. stop being a baby it’s just a date” jungkook stayed quiet after this, already getting nervous for whoever hoseok had set him up with.

it was party time once again later that night, jungkook stuck to his word and decided to stay home rather then attend it. he was sick of the cycle, girl comes up to him- sleeps with him then leaves after and doesn’t want anything else to do with him. it bored him now. so, while everyone else got drunk and had a good time, he was sat at his desk working on a paper that was due no where near soon. his phone buzzed on the table, distracting him from his typing.

jimin 😈 you boring fucker, get your ass to this party 23:46

would rather stick a fork up in my eye goodnight 23:47

once he replied he but his phone back down and leaned back in his chair, honestly he felt like he was missing out. all his friends were there, not just people from his year, so it was possible he’d actually have fun at this party. he just wanted to stick to his plan to avoid that scene, although right now he could’ve really used a drink. with a groan he shut his laptop and began to get ready to head out, already knowing where the party was being held. maybe after this he wouldn’t attend anymore? in a prompt hour he was dressed nicely and in the middle of a big crowd with loud music pumping through his body. the mixed vodka drink in his hand already half finished as he talked with taeyong, well tried to with the music.

“there’s a girl totally staring at you right now” jungkook rolled his eyes, not even bothering to turn around and see who he was talking about. he may have broke the promise to himself to not come out tonight, but he for sure was not going to hook up with anyone. he was done with the embarrassment of being hit and quit, no longer wanting to experience the awkwardness after doing the deed

“good for her, iam going to refill my drink” pushing past everyone as quickly as he could, he entered the busy kitchen to mix together a stronger drink then before.

“oh i thought you would rather shove eating utensils in your eye then be here?” a voice calls from behind him and he chuckles as jimin is stood there, red solo cup in hand.

“well i knew you lot might miss me so decided to ease the pain” his friend rolls his eyes as he sets his drink on the counter

“please, don’t flatter yourself” just as quick as he arrived, jimin was about to leave after someone called his name from a direction jungkook couldn’t quite see. but before he did go, he added “there’s totally a girl staring into your soul right now” again, jungkook didn’t react and didn’t look to see who it was. just nodded to indicate he heard jimin before his friends turned around a left. sighing, he took sip out of his now refilled cup and winced at just how strong he made it. his plan to only come out to hang out with his usual friends went south when he realised they were all drunk and separated out doing their own thing, so he was left standing around on his own like usual.

“here he is” jungkook turned to see taeyong with a girl beside him in a short dress with long hair “you can finally stop asking for him” realising that the girl beside his roommate was brought over for him he rolled his eyes

“so this is the one night stud everyone’s been going on about” he had to suppress a scoff at her words, of course she came over for that reason. that stupid girl from the start of the year really ruined his reputation. “so do you wanna get out of here?”

“no, thanks iam good” the stranger seemed surprised at his words, expecting an opposite answer “taeyong iam leaving” with that jungkook abandons the idea of actually having a good night and decides he’d rather just go back home.

“come on man, it might make you feel better” jungkook stops at the door as taeyong chased after him

“what another one night stand? iam done with the pointless sex, they don’t even engage in small talk anymore, don’t even want to know a single thing about me. iam finished with feeling used, goodbye” with that he left and was certain that this would be the last time he was going to a dorm party.

it was the next day which meant it was time for the dreaded blind date, jungkook had no energy for it. ever since he woke up he was in a foul mood, all his friends were hungover and not answering his texts and he missed an important lecture because he got his schedules mixed up. if he knew who this date was he would be cancelling, but he didn’t and the only other option was to stand them up. he knew he would just feel bad for making the person wait around for him, so at 5pm he begrudgingly began to get ready. he had no idea what the plan even was for this date so he kept it casual; jeans, white shirt and a denim jacket. checking the time it was almost 6pm so he quickly but on some shoes, gathered his keys and wallet and headed off to the music department. he was not looking forward to having to meet up with a complete stranger who’s probably already heard about his ‘reputation’, in all honesty he believed this girl most likely agreed to this date because she wanted to sleep with him. and that wasn’t even because of his ego, it’s literally all any girl propositions when they meet him- he didn’t even think he was that good in bed so why did they all want to? shaking all the thoughts from his head, he stalks to the music department. the campus was pretty empty at this time but a few people were still walking around, at this point he didn’t know whether he wanted to be stood up by this mystery woman. sure it would be embarrassing but at least he would have to go. but that scenario was ditched when he came close to the department and saw the back of girl, looking at the floor clearly waiting for someone. sighing he walks over, lightly tapping the girl on the shoulder. he kept a fake smile on his face, it wasn’t this strangers fault he was in a foul mood. once the girl did turn though, his mouth dropped open in surprise.

“jungkook?” you say in shock, it was him. your childhood best friend was the person you were forcibly set up with tonight. having pretty much just arrived at the campus you wanted to settle in, but after a guy your new roommates knew said he had the perfect person for you to go on a date with, you were pretty much pushed to go through it. you recognised him easily now, however at a party you attended you could’ve sworn you saw him. but in the dim light and pushy crowd, it was hard to tell. you looked at him for so long, trying to follow him around to get a good look but he left before you could go up to him and you felt creepy enough following a possible stranger around you weren’t about to chase after him. now, he was here standing in front of you dressed up to go on a blind date.

“y/n? i can’t believe-” suddenly you two let out synchronised screams as you wrapped your arms around each other, jumping in circles as you hugged one other. a few people stared over at the commotion but neither of you noticed, or cared. jungkook couldn’t fathom the fact his night went from being utterly in a mood to reuniting with one of the best friends he’s ever had. seeing you again made his heart pick up in pace, he finally felt happy again after such a shit first year at college. after finally letting go of each other, both of you couldn’t help the smiles that were planted on your lips.

“out of all the people to be set up with, i get stuck with you” jungkook let out a gasp as he pushes you playfully

“you should think of yourself as lucky” you chuckle at his words before a comfortable silence grows. the pair of you can’t help but just look at each other as your minds comprehend the coincidence.

“well, i guess we should start the date” you break the silence and jungkook nods in agreement. “hey why don’t we go to an arcade, like old times?” when you were kids you two would always go to an arcade on the weekends. at first it was a one off, but slowly it became a weekly thing. the mention of it made jungkook smile even bigger then before

“i’ll show you to a great one, and on the way you need to tell me everything. like what are doing here? how was life abroad? how’s your parents? what are you majoring in?” you laugh as jungkook begins to walk and ask multiple questions. you follow beside him, also thinking of a few questions yourself.

“my parents came back for work, they said i could continue my studies abroad but i wanted to come back. life away was fun but not as good as here, my parents are good and iam doing english literature” you answer his questions and he nods as the pair of you walk side by side, it was still amazing to you that you were right beside him again. you thought about him all the time, you were closer to no one in your life then you were to him. “how have you been? still taking the sports world by storm?” jungkook’s smile faltered a little, forgetting that he was very much into sports the last time you knew him

“no i uh- stopped playing after school” you were surprised at this, there wasn’t many sports he didn’t play in school and he was good at all of them. you were about to ask why when he suddenly pulls you to his other side on the pavement, a cyclist suddenly speeding past. you put a hand over your heart, it suddenly beating faster - which you put down to almost being knocked over not by jungkook pulling you. the pair of you continue walking and you get to ask your question

“why did you stop?” jungkook sighed at the question, not wanting to admit that once you left he slowly gave up on most things. you were the only one to encourage him to continue after all

“i just lost interest” he shrugged the question off but you frowned, you remembered how happy he was every time you watched him play anything. the way he be so excited whenever his team won, why would he lose interest in that. “here’s the arcade, let’s go in” you didn’t realise how lost in thought you were until you looked up at his words and saw the flashing lights from outside the window. following him inside you looked around at all the games, memories of all those weekends together as kids came to mind as you did so.

“dance revolution is first we know this” you declare making jungkook laugh and follow you to the dancing machine in the corner of the place. it was like you were never apart, so comfortable with each other. he vividly remembers how obsessed you were with the stupid dance game, having to go on it as soon as you walked through the doors each week. he joins you on the platform as you slot in a coin a begin to search through the random songs on the program. you seem to be looking at one for an awfully long time making jungkook give you a side eye

“that says extremely hard, no chance keep looking” smirking you select confirm and jungkook groans at your defiance. “really?”

“come on it’ll be funny” you justify as the song loads up and immediately you see a bunch of arrows filling the screen, making you regret your choice a little. the stomping on the floor is loud as you and jungkook try and hit every arrow to the fast paced song. you can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the pair of you must look, jumping around to try not miss a beat. your breathing gets harder as your legs move rapidly, looking over to his side you see that jungkook is beating you. “how the fuck are you doing this?” you shout out, noticing he’s hardly missed an arrow, his score much higher then yours

“iam just too good at everything, what can i do?” he breaths out, before hitting a combo that you ultimately miss at the same time. sighing in relief when the song comes to an end the two of you rest your hands on your knees as you bend over to catch your breath. a big loser sign appears on your side of the screen while jungkooks side displays a green winner.

“unbelievable” you don’t think you’ve ever beaten jungkook at this game, you thought maybe after all this time you had a chance but still he came out victorious. the pair of you walk away from the machine, breathing back to normal as you look for your next game. the two of you spent the next hour and half playing around in the arcade, both feeling like kids all over again. you were happy you actually agreed to go on this blind date and jungkook definitely felt the same. each day of college made him want to drop out more and more, but like usually when he was at his lowest you came to the rescue to pick him back up again. waking out of the arcade together, laughing mindlessly, the pair of you take off back to campus together.

“iam happy you chose to come back, honestly- i haven’t been having a good time at college” you grow upset to hear this, you assumed jungkook would be enjoying his time well you hoped he was.

“you haven’t? jungkook what’s wrong?” your concern flattered him, you were always the caring type especially when it came to him. though he didn’t know if he really wanted to go into detail about what exactly was giving him problems.

“well it’s just, i’ve had this issue for while at the moment.” you stayed silent, hoping this would prompt him to continue talking. wrapping your arms around yourself as you did so “this is so embarrassing but at the start of the year i got with this girl, she assumed i explicitly wanted a one night stand so began telling her friends that. they then told their friends and so on, it’s gotten to the point where literally no girl on campus wants anything to do with me unless it’s sex” you nodded at his explanation, feeling awful for him knowing that ever since your were friends he seemed the romantic type. always going on about wanting to have a wife and kids as soon as possible, you thought it was weird when you were younger but as you grew up you just realised that his parents were so in love that he just wanted to be like them. “plus i have like no friends in my year” he finishes and you felt so sorry for him, he was such a good person when you were younger- he didn’t deserve to feel this low when it should be the best years of his life

“iam sorry to here that jungkook, but look those are just silly rumours. don’t let people who want something from you involved in your life, if they wanted to get to know you they would. and iam in your year now, if you ask nice enough, i might be your friend” he laughs at you, wondering how you always manage to make him smile so easily.

“always so wise y/n” he says as you two catch sight of the campus, it not being too far away. jungkook couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at having to leave you so soon after meeting you again.

“let’s exchange numbers and meet again soon, iam so glad we got to see each other again” smiling jungkook pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it over to you, watching happily as you punch your number in and give yourself a call. handing it back you give him a smile before continuing to walk onto campus, jungkook not far behind you before he’s by your side. one side of the campus contained the boys dorm and the other had the girls, you stopped in the middle of the yard to say goodbye but jungkook beat you

“let me walk you back. it’s dark” his sweetness made your heart melt, he was the same sweetheart as he always was

“i’ll be fine, thanks though. you get home safe, from what i hear girls here go crazy for one night with you”. they might jump you on your way back”jungkook groans at your teasing, you were still the same as you always was- sarcastic and playful. you laugh as you walk backwards, giving him a wave before finally turning around and walking away. he watches you walk off, sighing when you turn a corner and he could no longer see you.

the next morning jungkook had a bounce in his step as he walks over to meet his friends in the yard, only hoseok, jimin and taehyung were able to make it. the smile is bright on the youngest face as he seats on the grass, making his three friends look at him confused.

“why is your face doing that?” taehyung inquires making jungkook give him an odd look, but taehyung’s face remains serious

“doing what?”

“like, smiling and shit?” his friends are even more surprised when jungkook laughs, not exactly the type of reaction they normally get

“i can’t smile?” the three men look at each other before answering in sync

“no” jungkook rolls his eyes, but after spending the evening with you yesterday he was just in too good of a mood to get upset.

“so, blind date went well” hoseok asks, eyebrow raised as he was sure jungkook was adamant that he didn’t want to go

“actually yes. the girl you set me up with was actually y/n, remember the one i told you about?” his friends faces a shocked at the news, they were beginning to think you weren’t real with how often jungkook spoke about you

“no fucking way? the girl you talk about all the bloody time? that’s crazy” jimin adds to the conversation, jungkook’s smile growing bigger that the thought of you

“oh my god you’re so in love!” taehyung exclaims making jungkook widen his eyes, he loved you sure but it was definitely platonic- right?

“no no, she’s my childhood best friend. iam just glad she’s here” hoseok narrows his eyes at his friend, he knew for sure that no one could react like this over a friend. he wasn’t going to mention anything about it though, but he knew that with time jungkook would be coming right back to them saying he was in love - he would bet money on it

“jungkooks wife aside” the youngest was about to contest but jimin was already talking “namjoon says that he is hosting his very own party this weekend” the came as a surprise to the other boys, none of them had ever organised a dorm party. sure they were happy to go to party’s where they didn’t have to clean up the mess or worry about university employees busting them- but to host one was a completely different story

“why on earth would he want to do that?” taehyung inquires and jungkook is also wondering the same thing and was waiting for jimin to reply, but as soon as he starts speaking he can’t hear a word because he sees you walking past not too far from them. he zones out completely as he watches you walk around campus, thinking how strange it is to just casually see you again. without thinking, he’s on his feet jogging towards you before he lost sight of where you were going. his friends turn their heads to see where he was going, utterly confused as to why he was just practically running off.

“goodbye to you too jungkook” hoseok mutters making his friends laugh before they continue their own conversation. meanwhile jungkook just managed to catch up to you, tapping you on the shoulder making you stop in your tracks. you smile upon seeing him, happy that you could just run into at any time or see him whenever you wanted.

“did you run?” you ask with a laugh as you watch him pant a little to catch his breath

“oh no i just- jogged a little. you’re a fast walker” he gets out and you chuckle at him, waiting for him to compose himself before speaking “i just wanted to say hi, ask if you have any plans this weekend?”

“oh well apparently someone in third year is hosting a party, my roommate wants me to go with her” you explain and jungkook was more happy then he thought he would to hear you were going. but given the fact he promised he’d be going to no more party’s, that was surely out the window if you were going to be there

“that’s one my best friends! please go otherwise iam practically going to be stranded if i go, i always get ditched”

“don’t you worry, i’ll be there to keep you company” you assure and for some reason jungkook feels relief, with you back he felt like he could finally begin to enjoy college again now that he actually had a friend he could see often. “i have a lecture so i better be going but, if you’re free later we should hang out?” jungkook was nodding before actually answering with words

“yeah that’ll be great, i’ll text you” you give him a smile before one of your friends come up to you telling you to hurry up and walk to class with her

“see you jay” jungkook could’ve swore his heart leapt at the way you casually used your old nickname for him. he almost forgot about it up until now, now it felt like the smile would never leave his lips. walking back over to his friends, they stopped chatting to stare at him as he sat himself back down- smile even wider then before.

“if that’s what he looks like after one conversation with her can i have her?” jungkook’s smile disappears and he glares at taehyung for his comment making jimin and hoseok laugh

“that would be a no” hoseok chuckles but jungkook doesn’t look too impressed, he knew he didn’t like you that way- of course not. but over his dead body would he let any of his friends get with you, absolutely not. he loved his them sure, he knew none of them would hurt you, but you were his friend and friends were always off limits “how did you too become so close anyway?” hoseok was curious, ever since he became friends with jungkook he always mentioned this girl who was his best friend who he missed. they didn’t even know how you two became friends though despite the fact he always taked about her. at one point it began to annoy all the guys, because he just never shut up about you, any situation they were in he would always just have to say how he had done the same thing with you before or it reminded him of you somehow. but they could see how much you meant to him, so they just let him ramble on.

“we met when we were like, five. i was sad on this school trip because i dropped my ice cream, she gave me hers” jungkook laughed at the memory, he remembers how his mum said after that not a day went by where he wouldn’t talk about this girl who gave him ice cream. from then on their parents got close and always arranged play dates for the two of them and they stayed friends right until she had to leave.

“sounds like a romantic movie synopsis” jimin jokes and once again jungkook is left scowling, the couple jokes showed no sign of stopping with them and jungkook knew they would only continue now he’d be seeing you more often. suddenly, his phone buzzes making him pull it out of his hoodie pocket and looking at the message he smiles slightly

y/n 🌸: nice to see you today. wanna meet at 7 and get some dinner?

jungkook: great seeing you too. that sound great, outside the music department again?

y/n 🌸: perfect meet you there

after messaging he pops his phone back in his pocket and looks up to see his friends staring at him, he gives them a confused look

you were happily applying some finishing touches with your makeup as you got ready for dinner when you friend sits next to you on the floor in front of your mirror.

“excited for your date?” she says making you roll your eyes and screw you mascara back up

“not a date” you reply as you put away your make up and mess around with your hair, making sure it looked nice

“we’ll be careful with jungkook” giving her a side eye you wonder why on earth you’d have to be careful around jungkook. her comment annoyed you a little, he was your childhood best friend and after seeing him again he seemed to be exactly the same as he was when you were kids “he just likes to bang, doesn’t do relationships” now that didn’t sound like him at all, and you knew it wasn’t he had already told you about these silly rumours.

“and how would you know this, heard him say it?” you decided to quiz her, after accusing someone of that you should definitely have absolute proof of it. you remember how upset he seemed when telling you what the girls on campus thought of him.

“well no but-”

“exactly” you cut her off “ive known the boy since i was a kid, he’s honestly a nice guy. don’t believe everything you hear” y/f/n seemed a little surprised at this, it was a known thing around campus that jungkook was the type of guy to just want a one night stand. “right, iam going.” you say your goodbyes and head off to the meeting spot you agreed upon and walking up to it you noticed jungkook was already there and waiting. looking at the time on your phone, you saw it was still ten minutes until seven. turning around, he saw you walking over and smiled.

“here she is” you chuckle at this and give him a little hug as a greeting, how could anyone give you a warning about such a lovely guy?

“have you been waiting long?” that was something that hadn’t changed about him either, always early or on time.

“no, not long. where would you like to eat?” you think for a little but realised you couldn’t really think of anywhere, most places you used to go closed when you left.

“is that diner we used to go to all the time still open?” jungkook seemed to get excited at the mention of the place, remember how you two frequented that diner often after school.

“yes let’s go there” as jungkook began walking, you followed next to him thinking about what your roommate said. you didn’t know whether to bring it up, not wanting to upset him about this situation more then he was.

“you know, my roommate warned me about you earlier” his eyebrows raised a little in surprise at this but he ultimately knew exactly why she did that “i actually got a little annoyed with her, she seemed stumped when i asked her if she actually heard you say you only want one night stands.” the pair of you laughed at this and jungkook felt happy that you were in his corner to defend him. his other friends never came in contact with the people spreading rumours in your year and taeyong seemed to just confirm them to help his roommate get laid

“well that was nice of you but don’t feel the need to defend me, i don’t think those rumours will ever stop” your heart hurt at how sad he looked, it was a known fact that you had a soft spot for him and you probably always would. even the reason you became friends was because you felt upset looking at the crying boy who lost his ice cream.

“no that’s what friends do, especially when the rumours are fucking lies” he was a bit shocked to see you so worked up over it, but you’re a good person you always were so it didn’t surprise him that much.

“my saviour” jungkook jokes and it makes you giggle but deep down he was being honest, he didn’t think there was one time when he was in trouble where you didn’t come to the rescue. he dropped his ice cream? you gave him yours, no one listened to him in class? you listened, people ignored him when he was upset? you comforted him, he had no motivation? you gave it to him- and now people believed rumours about him and you were there defending him. jungkook felt relieved to have you in his life again. you two were still laughing together when you walked into the diner together and taking a seat by the window, exactly where you used to sit

“i can’t believe my eyes” the diner’s owner came straight up to the table, knowing exactly who just walked through door. he would never forget the faces of the two people who filled the place daily. “why do i never see you anymore?” the older man quizzes making the two of you laugh

“someone decided to move away from me” jungkook states, pointing an accusing finger at you, making you roll your eyes.

“well iam glad you’re back, will you be wanting the usual?” honestly you couldn’t believe the man even remembered you, let alone the old order the two of you used to get.

“jungkook, you want the usual?” he nods excitedly at your question and you smiled agreeing as the owner walks to the back to put your order in “how on earth does he remember what we used to get?”

“well seems as the usual order is a large pizza and a side of fries, it shouldn’t be hard to remember” jungkook says and you chuckle “but iam surprised he still remember us, surely we’ve changed a little”

“nah, you’re still a baby face” jungkook gives a fake scowl, narrowing his eyes at you

“i don’t have a baby face” you can’t help the smile that grows on your lips, looking at him pout as it did.

“it’s not a bad thing, you’re cute” jungkook felt his heart leap at the compliment and it took him by surprise, why the fuck was his heart rate picking up over a stupid comment? his mind was working overtime while you didn’t really seem to notice him having an internal freak out. “here comes the drinks, he even remembered that”

“one coke and one milkshake, enjoy kids” the owner himself bought the drinks out and placed them on the table. you thanked him before taking a sip and jungkook leans forward to use the straw sticking out of his milkshake, not trusting his now shaky hands to lift the glass.

“so, tell me about the new friends you’ve made” you ask, wondering who he’s been hanging out with since you left. clearing his throat, he tries to ignore the random nervousness.

“well, i met these six guys after you left. we’re pretty close and then i have my roommate but i don’t see him often”

“ooh seven friends, maybe you could set me up?” jungkook suddenly froze, caught off guard at your words. you on the other hand had a sour taste in your mouth as soon as you said it, something about the thought of being set up made you feel strange. “iam joking, don’t want to be set up” jungkook nodded, a little relieved but he had no idea why he was getting worked up over the thought of you dating. you were just a friend, what was the problem?

“don’t think any of them would be your type, they’d just get on your nerves” he decided to crack a joke, trying to steer the conversation away from setting you up. he noticed that the owner was bringing your food over and he was glad there was a distraction from whatever was going through his mind.

“enjoy your food, and you better be back again after this” the owner orders and the both of you laugh, saying that you will. immediately the two of you dig in, pulling a slice of pizza each.

“this feels like old times” you comment making jungkook smile, between going to the arcade and now the diner- it truly felt like he was a kid again.

“it really does, just reminds me of all the times we were here before”

“jungkook stop!” you yell as you run into the diner to stop your best friend from pulling of your school tie for the millionth time.

“the knot is so tight can you even undo it?” he laughs as he follows you into the diner, sitting down opposing you in a booth. you look down and begin tugging at your school tie, jungkook having pulled it down so much on the walk here that the knot had tightened up.

“you’re so annoying” you huff making him laugh harder before a worker comes over to the two of you, smiling at your antics

“good to see you kids back, let me guess a pizza and fries to share?” the waitress had seen you two come in often, she always worked the early afternoon shift which was perfect timing for when all the kids finished school.

“yes please also a banana milkshake and a coke” jungkook says with a smile and the waitress nods before waking off to prepare the order. “my mum invited you over for dinner this weekend” you excitedly cheered and clapped at this

“her food is so good, iam there”

“excuse me you’re meant to be happy to spend time with me not eat the food” jungkook says and you shrug your shoulders

“i spend too much time with you, the food is more exciting”

“you know my mum is very happy to hear you’re back” jungkook says, the pizza was eaten and plate pushed to the side now the fries rest in between you two as the pair of you eat them.

“is she? did you tell her i was back?” jungkook shakes his head, remembering the phone call he got from his mum the day before

“actually your mum told her, apparently they’ve already had a wine night” you laugh at this, you should’ve known your mum would get back in contact straight away. the pair of your mums might have been even closer then you and jungkook

“of course they have”

“she’s invited you round as soon as you’re free by the way, she’s very excited” jungkook watched you nod at his words as you munched on some fries, he felt his heart melting at the sight. ever since you came back he finally felt like he was having a good time like he was supposed to be at uni.

you barely had time to see jungkook after your dinner together, the work load under you was too big to be having any spare time. the next time you saw him it was the day of namjoon’s party and you found yourself looking for him a soon as you entered the dorm. however the crowd of people all bunched together made it extremely difficult so you stuck to your roommate and followed her to go get a drink.

“are you looking for him?” your roommates question took you by surprise, was it really that obvious?

“who?” deciding to play it dumb didn’t exactly work out as she laughed and shook her head at you, although you don’t know why you were pretending not to know who she was on about- was it really so bad to want to see your long lost childhood bestie?

“you know who”

on the other side of the dorm, jungkook was almost on the top of his toes as he searched around the mountains of bodies in front of him to try and find you making hoseok side eye him.

“oh my god hi y/n!” hoseok loudly saying your name makes jungkook’s head turned sharply in his direction, only to not see you anywhere.

“you’re so whipped” his friend laughs and jungkook roles his eyes, a little bit disappointed that you weren’t actually there

“whatever” jungkook mumbles as he sips his drink when a hand touches his shoulder making him almost jump. for a split second he thought it was you, so he turns with a smile but his lips turn down instantly when he sees a random girl.

“wanna dance?” hoseok can’t help the chuckle that escapes him as he watches his friend get propositioned by a random girl, jungkook almost looked scared

“no, thanks” he turns on his heels instantly, leaving his back to the girl and now hoseok laughs wholeheartedly but jungkook doesn’t find anything funny about the situation. weirdly, all he can think about is you and where the fuck you were. you said you were definitely coming and would keep him company, which he needs now more then ever as all his friends have disappeared and hoseok is one more shot away from running off from him to either hook up or throw up. pulling out his phone he was about to send you a message when a face appears in his gaze as he looks down at the lit up screen. he laughs as he sees you staring up at him and steps back, you chuckle and give him a hug. hoseok eyes the situation and instead of introducing himself, he sneaks off.

“miss me?” you ask stepping away and jungkook smiles down at you, he very much did actually but he wasn’t about to let that information out

“nah not really” he couldn’t help but chuckle as you gasp and place a hand over your chest

“well i guess i’ll be going” you turn but don’t get far when jungkook wraps his hand around your arm to pull you back

“no no, you’re not leaving me alone i only have hos-” jungkook turns but the space his friends occupied is gone and now he just looks insane “apparently i have no one but you now”

“ah just like old times, iam your only friend” the pair of you laugh together but you become very aware of a lot of eyes directly looking at you. it wasn’t everyone around you, but a hefty number of them were looking. “do you wanna get some air?” jungkook seemed to be relieved that you asked and nodded his head before leading the way out. you tried you hardest to stay behind him but with people constantly pushing past or drunkenly stumbling, it was difficult to keep close. huffing as you almost trip for the third time, you squeeze past a tall guy and grab onto the back of jungkook’s hooding making him halt his movements and look down at where you gripped him, his heart beat picking up “sorry i’ve had enough of trying to keep up with your long ass legs” he chuckles at you and shakes his head before moving again, you holding tightly onto him this time. finally making it out the back door and away from the crowd, you let go on jungkook and follow him as he walks all the way to the back of the house where a hammock was hung. it was silent for a little while the pair of you tried to sit on the hammock with falling out.

“iam sorry they were all staring” jungkook broke the small silence and you look to him next you, upset at his apology. it annoyed you that he felt the need to say sorry for something that wasn’t even his fault

“don’t apologise, why do you have to be sorry?”

“people always do when a girl is talking to me, i just don’t want them thinking badly of you. that you’re a fool for spending time with me” jungkook looked so ashamed and it broke you’re heart. unless this was some long con from him, he was exactly the same as when you knew him.

“i don’t care what people think about me jungkook, iam just happy to have my best friend back” a smile decorated his lips as he looked at you, the realisation that you were back by his side seemed so sweet at this moment.

“jungkook’s reeled in another one!” the sound of a voice shouting across the garden makes you and jungkook frown, sure it was drunk rambling but just the thought of someone talking about women in such a way had you rumbled

“at least one guy can, where’s your catch of the day?” you shout back, embarrassing the guy as he stumbles back into the main bulk of the party. it was childish to shout back, but you couldn’t help it. jungkook couldn’t help but lean his head back and laugh, he knew the guy shouting- he was at every party. always got too drunk and too handsy. “was that too childish?” you chuckle as you look over to jungkook next to you

“no, i enjoyed it” smiling to yourself you look back out to the party before looking back over to jungkook.

“will your friends be looking for you? i don’t want to take up all your time” he shakes his head before moving to sit up properly

“there probably too drunk by now to remember who i am. plus id rather catch up with you then pulled around by them, they’re to sociable for me” chuckling at this you take a moment to enjoy the comfortable silence that was growing. your thoughts of the past overtook for a moment and you couldn’t help but reminisce

“isn’t it crazy how we found each other again? i always regretted losing contact with you” slowly jungkook raises his head to look down at you on his side, his gaze so soft.

“i regret it too, i wish i had you here from the start” a smile found its way to your lips as you returned his gaze, the hustle of the party long forgotten

“jungkook? can i ask you a question?”

“of course” you take a beat to think if you wanted to ask this certain thing, but ultimately you decided you needed to

“why did you stop playing football you enjoyed so much? you never gave me a proper answer when we met again” he was taken back by the question, mostly because he didn’t want to answer it. you were the reason, he didn’t necessarily blame you for his lack of ambition to continue playing- but as soon as you weren’t by his side to encourage him, his passion was gone.

“i got old, played like shit” a snort made its way out of your nose at this excuse, jungkook chuckled along already knowing you could see through his bullshit reason.

“you have a natural talent at dodging questions, tell me the real reason” sighing, he looked away from you and to his feet. he wasn’t one to enjoy heart to hearts particularly, but this was you asking and there was no way he could deny you anything you wanted.

“y/n, when you left i tried to carry on- it just wasn’t the same. you were the only one to push me to carrying on playing as many sports as i did, without you there it just- seemed pointless” to say you were shocked was an understatement, you never expected that to be his answer and you felt- guilty. sure you had no choice, your family were moving away, you couldn’t stay even if you wanted to. but you still felt responsible, jungkook was so talented which is why to supported so wholeheartedly

“iam, sorry jungkook”

“it wasn’t your fault”

“that’s not all iam sorry for,” he looked over at you silently, having no idea what you meant

“iam sorry you lost your spark for life , iam sorry those stupid rumours spread and iam sorry i never stayed in contact” his eyes were suddenly glassy, the weight of all he was holding in felt like it suddenly released. “i can see that that twinkle behind those eyes has gone, but you deserve the best jungkook and iam determined to get that spark back to you” he stayed quiet, worried that if he even tired to saying anything his voice would break. “now, let’s get back and actually get this party”

two weeks after the party and in the pitch dark of the evening, jungkook found himself stood across from you on the campus football field. there was the distant sound of a party happening nearby, which is where he would’ve usually found himself in the past, now he couldn’t help but chuckle as he was far from the party and out in the cold watching you fumble around with an american football.

“do you even know the rules?” he asks with a little laugh and you stop messing with the ball and place it under your arm to look up at him

“no” you shrug “but i don’t need to. this is all about you buddy and getting back into the action- catch” you throw the ball at him suddenly making him jump and put his hands out. he grasps the ball momentarily but it slips from him and tumbles onto the floor “see that! you can’t even catch anymore” huffing he leans down to pick up the fallen ball before straightening back up to look at you

“you caught me by surprise! of course i didn’t get it” your hands find your hips as you look at him before shaking your head at him

“oh yeah because on the field when the opposition throws the ball they’re gonna go ‘hey jungkook pre warning iam throwing the ball now, ready to try and intercept,?” he scowls stop you momentarily but you know he’s trying not to smile at your sarcasm “younger jungkook would’ve caught that” you tease making jungkook roll his eyes at you

“younger jungkook also played and trained multiple times every week”

“younger jungkook would not have excuses, then again he was also hotter so-” your sentence is cut short as he light throws the ball at you jokingly and you catch it as you laugh. “ok, jokes aside. does it feel at least nice to be back on the field?” a little smile comes upon his face as he looked around the dimly lit field, quietly thinking about how much time he used to spend playing.

“you know what, it kinda does” he jumps a little when you clap your hands together once after putting the ball under your armpit and begin walking away from the field

“and that’s day one complete let’s go eat” you call out and he quickly rushes to your side as you continue to walk of the field

“wait that’s it? we’re not gonna throw the ball around or anything?” you stop in your tracks making his movement halt too, turning you look up at him

“jungkook, this isn’t about jumping straight back into playing. it’s about how you feel, before now you said you fell out of love it- forcing you to play immediately isn’t my aim. i want you to remember all those feeling you had when you played all the time. now, let’s eat” you finish your little speech and walk away while jungkook stands dumbfounded a little but shakes his head with a smile and runs to catch up with you.

three weeks after the party and jungkook opened his dorm door to find you stood there with a big bag and canvas’ under your arms.

“let’s paint” you say simply before walking away and jungkook rushes to put on some shoes and grab his key before chasing after you. he follows you all the way to some greenery space on campus where you stop and set down your things.

“you could’ve at least give me time to prepare myself” he mumbles out before sitting next to you and you chuckle as you unwrap all the things you had brought

“you need to prepare yourself to paint? weirdo” rolling his eyes he scoots a little closer to you to have a good look at what you were pulling out your bag. “okay! two canvases each, we have normal, water colour and charcoal. take your pick” with that you poured a little water in a dish and opened the water colour set before painting away quietly. looking at you momentarily, jungkook leans forward and grabs the normal paint with a paint brush. looking around him he decides to just paint the tree directly in his line of view. as the brush strokes sweep across the campus he embraces the calm silence that sweeps over the pair of you. it was so peaceful and it took the time to appreciate it, looking quickly over at you he noted how focused you looked. your eyebrows furrowed a little as bring the canvas in your hand a little closer to your face as you work. a slight breeze came, blowing your hair slightly and before he realised it- he was staring at you in a sort of a trance.

“okay iam done!” your voice made him blink a couple times before he quickly looks away, clearing his throat he looks over down at his canvas “wow that’s great” you compliment and he looks up to see you eyeing his work that laid in front of him.

“it’s just a tree” he shrugs but meets your eyes and you don’t look too impressed at his dismissal

“a very well painted and pretty tree” you say sternly making him chuckle, his cheeks warming slightly at your words.

“ok we’ll let me see yours” he leans forward but you put your canvas up to your chest before he gets the chance to see. he raised an eyebrow at you and goes to grab it but you stand making him look up at you “come on, let me see”

“hm iam good” his teeth catch his bottom lip before he stands up, there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes and you narrow yours at him “jungkook” you warn but he smiles before taking a swipe at the canvas and you quickly step away

“hey let me see!” you laugh before running away and without thinking he goes after you, laughing with you as he tries to grab your work but you move it out of his reach as he chases you around.

“oh my god it’s like iam watching a netflix original chick flick” taehyung mutters to yoongi as the pair watch you run around from opposite the greenery

“hm, it’s good to see him like that” yoongi says with a shrug of his shoulders “but my ass is she just his childhood best friend, i bet they’re together by the end of the year” taehyung looks over to his friend and back to the pair of you still chasing each other around like children

“end of the year?” he questions making yoongi look to him “i say within the next two months, bet fifty on it” the older chuckles and puts his hand out to initiate a shake. taehyung smiles and puts his hand in his and the pair shake on it.

“you forget how shy that kid is, really think he’s confessing by two months time?” yoongi asks making taehyung’s smile drop at the realisation “easiest fifty i ever made”

four weeks after the party and you stand opposite jungkook at the club sign up stand with your arms across your chest as you eye each other.

“iam not doing it” he states, with a hint of amusement in his tone. the football volunteer looks at the pair of you across the table as you have your little debate

“it’s just try outs jungkook stop being a baby, you like playing just do it” he tilts his head at you, smile itching to come out. he wondered why you were dragging him out of his dorm at 10am and was not that surprised when you led him all the way to the sign up table.

“i haven’t played in ages y/n, there’s no point i’ll be no good” you scoff taking him by surprise, in reality he was dying to sign his name on that piece of paper but his nerves wouldn’t allow him to do it. he didn’t wanna get out there and make a fool of himself, everyone already had certain thoughts about him and he didn’t wanna add ‘shit football player’ to there list of reasons to talk about him

“i know you want to and who cares if you haven’t played in a while? it’s not the fucking pros, iam signing you up” you conclude before leaning down to the table and picking up a pen but he rushed to snatch the pen from your grip

“okay okay wait!” he rushes out and you look up to him, waiting for him to speak “fine, i will go to try out if… you show me that painting you did last week” there’s a moment of silence as you contemplate this, ultimately you just wanted to see him back out there.

“ok” you sigh “sign your stupid name and i’ll show you when you’re finished with try outs” smiling jungkook scribbles his name and student number on this sheet before placing the pen down and looking back at you, seeing such a genuine smile on your lips- his heart skips a beat making him let out a shaky breath.

“ok breakfast time” he gets out quickly before brushing past you and heading off. you move your feet quickly to catch up with him and the volunteer watches the pair of you before looking away.

“he’s so in love with her” he mentions to his friend sat beside him who nods in agreement. once you catch up to him you pat his back making him look down to you

“thank you for signing up, i know it was properly nerve racking. you’re gonna do great i promise and i’ll be there watching” he didn’t like the way his heart rate raised slightly with excitement at the thought of you coming to watch.

“well thank you for pushing me, i guess iam nervous” he lets out as the pair of you walk onto the campus cafe.

“it’s ok to be nervous actually it’s a good thing” you say as the pair of you sit at a table close to the big windows overlooking the campus

“really?” he questions, sitting opposite you

“of course, look when i came back you didn’t have your little spark that made you- you. to see you have these feelings for the game again, it’s just nice to see” for a moment he just lets your words process, how you let out such nice words so easily took the air out of his lungs.

“hey buddy long time no see!” looking up he sees namjoon with a grin and jin by his side walking over to the table and gets up with a smile to greet them

“what’s up guys?” he says before looking back over to you “oh this is y/n, y/n these are my friends namjoon and jin” he introduces and you stand, giving each a friendly hug before you all sit back down

“wow so you’re the guys who took over my babysitting?” you joke making them laugh and jungkook roll his eyes at you

“it’s nice to finally meet you, jungkook never shut up about-” jin jumps slightly feeling jungkook’s foot meet his knee under the table making him scowl at the younger one

“you know it’s so nice to see jungkook happy again. i noticed your name on the football sign up sheet, good for you man” namjoon says, a proud hand patting jungkook on his shoulder making you smile fondly. you couldn’t help the warm feeling that brewed up watching him talk to his friends about getting back on the field.

“well we’ll be there to cheer you on buddy” jin says and you don’t fail to notice the smile that is planted on jungkooks face

“come on guys it’s only try outs” he try’s to dismiss but no one at the table lets him

“and you’re gonna be the best there, and we will be there to see it” you grab his hand momentarily that rested upon the table and namjoon and jin share a look, fighting the smirks they wanted to let out

“well we better be going, nice to meet you y/n and jungkook- see you out on the field” namjoon says before him and jin get up to leave the cafe.

it was try out day and jungkook couldn’t fight the nerves that were bubbling in his stomach as he walked with his duffle bag to the field. sure, it wasn’t a proper game but he couldn’t fight the feeling that he was just gonna mess the whole thing up and look stupid.

“you look like you’re gonna shit your guts out” he jumped at the sudden voice beside him and looked to find your grin

“gee thanks y/n” you chuckle before grabbing his upper arm to stops his movement

“you’re gonna be great ok? there’s loads of guys out there that have properly never played before and just wanted to try a new club. you’re not going to look stupid, i promise” smiling at you he nods, he wanted to reply with words but he couldn’t pull any together to truly show his gratitude for just how wonderful you’ve been since you came back. In just over a month now he managed to not attended any parties, get his grades up and get back on field. He knew you were the sole reason for all of this, but he just didn’t know how to thank you properly.

“there he is, football coaches wet dream!” jimin yells from quite a distance, making people turn there heads which made jungkook’s cheeks burn up ever so slightly as all his friends made there way to him and you

“really? you’re all here? it’s just try out guys this is embarrassing” jungkook whines making you chuckle and hoseok gasps sarcastically placing his palm over his chest

“we are not embarrassing you little shit- we’re supportive” he concludes before patting jungkook on his back “now you go warm up, the guys are already on the field. we will take care of y/n” jungkook glances at you for a moment and you nod affirmation that it’s fine

“have fun” you smile “iam off to get some embarrassing stories from your friends” rolling his eyes, jungkook walks off onto the field while you walk off with all six of his close friends, remembering he clearly classed his roommate as friend you grew confused as to why he wasn’t here “jungkook mentioned that he had roommate who is his friend but doesn’t see often. why isn’t he here?” you notice them all share silent looks between themselves as if having a telepathic conversation with on another.

“well um, his roommate isn’t the greatest of friends he could have. just wants jungkook to get laid all the time, thinks it’s the greatest fucking thing ever.” yoongi grumbles out the you all take seats just off the field. you frown at this but don’t have time to add some follow up questions

“y/n he doesn’t actually care about jungkook in any other way. in fact, since jungkook hasn’t gone to any parities with him for while, he’s basically dropped him” taehyung goes onto explain and you take a moment to process. maybe that’s why jungkook said he never saw him often? if all this roommate cared about was partying and sex, then he definitely would be avoiding jungkook at this point in time.

“what a fucking prick” you mutter out and the guys are thrown off slightly before laughing. in all honestly half of them have never met you and they knew just how much you meant to jungkook. they didn’t wanna risk telling you anything that he didn’t want you to know, but with the way you’re talking and so easily taking his side- you’d definitely fit in well

“oh he is, in all honesty we reckon that he just got close to him in the first place because he was jealous of him. i mean, everyone was talking about jungkook when he started- they completely loved him” namjoon explained and this had you thinking. jungkook had such a bad time because of those stupid rumours and he was actually loved at first by everyone? it must have been hard for him to know who actually wanted to be friends and who just wanted to say they knew him.

“well at least he has all of you guys, i can tell how much you love him” the all smile fondly at you before a loud whistles blows making you all turn your attention to the field

“he has you too now, we you love him just as much” jimin says nicely before turning to try and spit jungkook on the field.

an hour later and all of you rushed over to jungkook as the coach dismisses everyone. “you were great out there! it’s like you never left man” namjoon slings an arm around jungkook as the younger drinks a hefty amount out his water bottle, panting in between sips

“my stamina is so fucking bad now” you lean up on your toes slightly and slap the back of his head, not too hard making jump and whip to face you

“stop being so hard on yourself and take the compliment” the boys chuckle at the scene in front of them

“i like her, let’s keep her” jin let’s out making you smile while jungkook gathers his things up before slinging his bag over his shoulders before you all begin walking off together.

“how about we all grab a bite to eat?” you suggest and you never thought a simple sentence would get six guys so fired up in an instance. they all muttered between them about what to eat and where to go- it sparked quite a little debate. while they all discussed jungkook pulls you back behind them a little and you look to him.

“do you really think i did okay out there? i wasn’t to rusty? didn’t do anything stupid?” if he didn’t seem so evidently worried you would’ve slapped him again but you knew it wasn’t time to be messing around

“jungkook you were really good, i know it was just simple practices and all but you really shined out there.” he smiles at you and seems to go to say something else but someone else get ahead of him

“we’re getting pizza losers come on” jimin shouts from the little distance that was created between the pair of you and the group.

“you know you still haven’t shown me you’re painting?” a week after try outs your were sat opposite jungkook on your bed . both of your legs cross crossed. it had been a couple hours since he first arrived, the time filled with different youtube videos, snacks and games. the current form of entertainment, uno

“i was hoping you wouldn’t remember” you mutter as you place a green five onto of the pile in-between the pair of you

“what is with you not wanting to show me? you are good at art, always have been. you took all of those classes” jungkook says as he places down a green seven onto the pile and you shrug, it wasn’t about the quality of the painting more of the meaning

“ugh okay fine” you say before placing your cards face down on your bed before getting up “don’t look at my cards” you point a finger in his direction and he laughs before you turn and begin to rummage your desk drawers. grabbing it from the back you close the drawer back up and turn back to him, eyes meeting his clearly excited face. “look away” you say handing it to him, facing down. he smiles as flips it as you sit back down, his face was hard to read but jungkook was stunned as his eyes met an outline portrait of his own face made of an array of bright colours with a couple of paint splashes on the edges of the canvas. but right where his pupils should be, we’re little stars. “i was going to give it to you in a couple months time, you know when you got your little spark back and fell back in love with the small things in life again. but after seeing you at tryouts i don’t mind giving it to you now”

you’re explanation floored him, he felt his heart tighten in his chest. he knew he had good friends but no one had ever done something so… so thoughtful.

“y/n this is, this great i love it. thank you”

“well you’re very welcome, now back to business” you place one of your two cards down onto the deck, a green two “uno!” you exclaim with one card left in your hand.

“hm, don’t get too excited” jungkook let’s out before placing a plus two card onto the deck making you groan in turn making him laugh. picking up two from the spare pile you look at the three you having while jungkook decides his next move

“can i ask you something?”

“you just did” rolling you’re eyes at him you watch as he shifts through his couple of cards and you decide to continue

“how come you stopped going to the campus parties?” the question took him back, he hadn’t really thought much about partying since you came back into his life- finding a night with you way more fun then any party he’s attended here

“no reason really. i wanted to stop a while back, just lost interest. all they really involved was taeyong bringing girls to me and trying to hook me up, i grew bored of it” you nod at this as jungkook places down a colour card and say a quick ‘yellow’.

“and he’s your roommate right?” he nods to this and you take a moment to look at your cards before placing a yellow one onto the pile. “iam guessing he isn’t happy with your lack of attendance?” you ask but it comes across as more of a statement then a question

“yeah, he’s been moping around the dorm whenever i see him. although last week he stopped speaking to me all together” you raise your eyebrows slightly in shock at this, sure he could miss his friend and roommate attending parties with him. but to stop speaking to him at all because of it? that seemed a bit extreme

“does that upset you?” jungkook shrugged at this, before placing a yellow eight onto the ever growing pile in the middle of the pair of you, leaving him with three cards in his hands.

“not really, we weren’t exactly close to begin with. plus i have you and the guys, more then enough for me” you were happy to here this, honestly you didn’t want your return to ruin any existing friends he already had. placing down a green eight you claim uno once again as you you were back one card

“for fuck sake i changed the colour for a reason” he grumbles making you laugh as he picks up three cards from the untouched deck before managing to place a green five onto the deck

“well i changed it back for a reason too” you say before slamming down a pick up four, the last card in your hand “i win!”

“how nice of you to separate from your mrs’ to join us” jungkook glares at taehyung’s comment, but didn’t miss the beat his heart took at you being called his. well that’s new. he chose to ignore it

“don’t make me regret joining you” he grumbles as he plants himself on the grass, in the circle all the boys had created.

“stop teasing him” namjoon says in his defence and jungkook gives a smile as appreciation

“and stop ass kissing so you can be the best man at their wedding” another beat was skipped in his heart at taehyung’s words and it was beginning to annoy him, his heart shouldn’t be so responsive about a joke of him marrying his best friend.

“i will be the best man so no one get your hopes up” jimin joins in and everyone laughs, not jungkook though- he takes a deep breath.

“where is y/n today?” hoseok asks and all eyes go to jungkook

“she’s at a lecture right now” he mumbles, hoping the subject of you would change so his heart would stop beat so damn fast

“will she join us after?” yoongi’s question didnt aide the hoped for subject change jungkook was wanting.

“should be ending now, could ask her if you want” jungkook suggests, he was going to ask to see you today anyway, as he did everyday

“i actually have plans with her today” jungkook’s head shoots to taehyung, he what? his shock was apparently evident because his friend explains “bumped into her the other day, she takes english like me so gonna help her study, we’re going to that diner down the road” he shrugs as jungkook remains silent, sounds a lot like a study date to him- he didn’t like it. he wasn’t too sure why he didn’t like it, but he just didn’t.

“not you stealing his wife” jimin mutters, an attempt at a joke but the death stare he received from jungkook made his smile drop.

“hi guys!” a voice struck through the awkward tension and all heads turn to you coming towards them. everyone gives a small greeting but jungkook remains silent, but gives you a smile. how could he not as you squeeze yourself next to him in the circle, looking ever so pretty

pretty?

his smile dropped at his thoughts, his gazed dropped to your hand on his thigh as you dropped next to him- using it to stable yourself. his heartbeat picked up, his cheeks flushed, his mind raced. his friends began to chatter around him but he couldn’t hear a word, he knew now, knew that he liked you- more then a friend and thought terrified him. a thousand scenarios played in his imagination at once;

you finding out and never talking to him again

him confessing and you laughing in his face and never talking to him again

you finding out and dropping him with no further explanation and never talking to him again

him confessing and-

“jungkook you listening?” your voice pulls his attention and he looks at you, why were you so fucking pretty?

“he definitely wasn’t listening” hoseok laughs as does everyone else but he doesn’t, he feels sick. the look of concern on your face doesn’t help either, god you were always so thoughtful.

“i-i need to go do something” he mumbles quickly before standing and walking off, but it seemed he just couldn’t escape you, as you were not on his trail as he walked into the nearest building

“hey jungkook, what’s wrong?” he didn’t stop, no he picked up his pace breathing hard while looking “careful!” he didn’t have time to register anything before you had him pushed up against a wall, hands on his waist, body pushed up against him. a flock of students rushed past them as you held him, almost protecting him as they ran by. his breathe got caught in his throat as he looked down at you just as you turned your head and looked up at him. jungkook became hyper aware of your body against his and your hands tight on his sides, his thin shirt the only thing in between them and his skin. slowly, you pulled away and he let out a heavy sigh before pushing himself off the wall, you were still too close.

“i- uh”

“spill, you’re acting weird” he couldn’t get any words out, he tried but his mind couldn’t come up with anything and an uncomfortable silence grew thick.

“oh god i don’t want to talk about that lame excuse for a man, can’t believe i have to deal with him as a roommate” a familiar voice came from nearby and jungkook lifts his head and spots taeyong coming down the hallway. you followed his gaze before turning back

“is that your roommate?” jungkook does nothing but nod, still processing the words he heard from the boys mouth. suddenly he’s being pushed into a nearby door and into a tiny cupboard before you join him. there was barely space for a mop in it and he blushed as you squeezed in front of him, your ass pressing against his front. you closed the door just in time as taeyong stood in front of it, there were small slits in the door meaning you could hear clearly and see most of the outside.

“y/n what”

“shh” you whisper quietly and lean forward to hear better, only making your ass press into the blushing boy even more and he couldn’t even retreat anywhere.

“man i can’t believe you started those rumours about him and he still doesn’t know it was you” jungkook’s eyes widen slightly and you return the look as you turn your head to him before turning back to listen

“still thinks it was that girl he hooked up with the first time.” taeyong scoffs before continuing “he should be thanking me though, gave him ass on tap” you rolled your eyes at this but jungkook remained frozen, his roommate spread those rumours about him? he’s the reason no girl on campus wanted anything serious with him?

“mate you only did that because people started to like him more than you”

“yeah well now they think he hates relationships and think girls are nothing more then a good fuck, i made sure of it” with that the voices faded and you slowly opened the door before stepping out but jungkook remained stood.

“let’s go jungkook” you spoke softly but the look on your face screamed that you were furious. slowly he steps out and you close the door behind him “how fucking dare he, what kind of person does something like that? we’re going straight to the school board and we’re reporting his ass”

“y/n, i don’t want to think about this right now. can we just, go do something?” your heart broke, he sounded so hurt so betrayed and it pained you to see it. the whole ordeal made jungkook push his new feelings aside, he just needed your company right now.

“iam moving dorms” they were the first words jungkook had spoken to taeyong for a long time. he thought his roommate was just being dramatic and ignoring him for ditching parties, but he was wrong. without jungkook’s attendance he couldn’t push girls in his direction and buff up his made up stories. it only took a couple of days for his request to switch to be accepted and he was glad for it because every time he saw taeyongs face he just wanted to bash the living shit out of him

“woah what you talking about buddy?” jungkook’s eye twitched at the audacity of him, how two faced could one person be?

“iam not your buddy” taeyongs facarde dropped slightly, his fake smile turning into a frown. “don’t ever come anywhere near me again, or i swear to god i will beat the fuck out of you”

“what the fuck is your problem?” jungkook’s patience was running very thin with each word that came out of the mans mouth. he had his days of being sad and now he was just angry.

“hm let’s have a think, what could possibly be my problem with you?” he mocks thinking as taeyong just stares at him, jaw locked “oh i know, maybes it’s you talking behind my fucking back and ruining my reputation” shock spilled across his ex roommates face but jungkook was finished with this conversation, he walked l to his room to pack up his things- empty boxes already there waiting to be filled. but taeyong didn’t seem to be finished as he followed him

“so what i said some things about you? gave you some good lays didn’t i?” jungkook closed his he’s momentarily in frustration at the man speaking behind him. god how did he stand him for this long? calling human women lays? was he always this infuriating? “not my fault that slag came into your life and cockblocked you” jungkook’s back straightens. his hands turn into fists.

“get the fuck away from me, and keep her name out of your mouth” he gets out through gritted teeth not turning to face the the man because he didn’t think he could hold back if he looked at him. taeyong mocks a laugh

“how good is that fucking pussy for you to be whipped so badly?” he whipped around and before he knew what he was doing his fist connected to taeyong’s face making him stumble backwards, his had flew to his cheek before he chuckled with no humour behind it. he lunged forward at jungkook and the two began to throw punches, knocking things over in the room as they did so. taeyong grabs jungkook by his shirt “you think you’re so fucking perfect don’t you! you’re so pathetic!” jungkook grips his shoulders, shoving him off before pushing him again making taeyong stumble into a desk making everything on it tumble to the ground, including the painting you had done of him making loud several bangs. breathing hard as he looks at the fallen painting, he exits the rooms in a hast, face hurting and blood trickling down his cheeks. he was sure he’d ended up killing the guy if he carried on so left making sure to slam the door behind him and heading straight across campus with one place in mind. he ignores all the stares thrown his way from other students as he stomps into the girls dormitory and straight to your door. he knocks a couple times before you open the door

“jungkook oh my god!” he manages a smile at your shock before he’s pulled in by you and lead straight to your room “sit” you order and he listens, planting himself on your bed immediately. you leave momentarily before returning with a small first aid box in your hands and sit next to him. opening your supplies instantly. “you look awful” he lets out a laugh before wincing, the cut on his lip stinging. you put some liquid onto a cotton swab before gently gripping his face, turning him to look at you. he takes a sharp intake of breath as you dab the swab onto his lip but as you continue he just stares at you. blinking slowly he takes you in, pyjama shorts tight on your thighs and crop top snug on your torso.

he thinks as you work on his face, about the blind date you went on, about your speech declaring to help him bring his sparkle back, to your painting you did of him. every single moment since you came back was dedicated to him, to helping him enjoy everything he fell out of love with since you’d left. football, painting everything you did was to help him fall back in love with the life he lost when you went away, but he realised something in that moment as he watched you wipe cream onto his wounds. it wasn’t those things that he was in love with, it was you. he didn’t love playing football, he loved seeing you cheer for him on the sidelines. it wasn’t painting that he loved, it was you painting beside him that he loved. you cared for him, you listened to him, you wanted his opinion. jungkook realised in that single moment that everything that made him feel alive ever since he was a kid, all came back to you and suddenly his feelings didn’t scare him like they did before, they ignited something in him. they ignited want and desire but also a feeling of warmth and peace.

it happened in the blink of an eye, he leant down and smashed his lips into yours, hand coming up to hold the back of your head- fingers threading through your hair. you dropped the swab, hand fumbling on the bed making the tin fall to the ground, the contents spilling onto the floor. jungkook pulls back slightly, lips still hovering over yours and you could feel his breath.

“iam sorry i-” you didn’t let him finish, leaning forward planting your lips on his again in a rushed motion making him groan. his hand reaches down, gripping your thigh before lifting you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. you gently bite onto his bottom lip making him gasp from the slight sting of his cut but also the feeling of your teeth digging into him which allowed you to stick your tongue into his mouth. his hands moved up your thighs before grazing your ass then trailed up gripping your waist, pulling you into him harder. his touch set your skin alive in a phantom burning sensation making you grind into him, his head falls back breaking the kiss and he whines quietly at your movement. and it was the best fucking noise you have ever heard. your lips move to his neck making him fall back on the bed and you follow him, attacking the spot underneath his ear “fuck, y/n” he whispers and you have to suppress a groan that’s bubbling in your throat. his grip tightens on your waist, and you feel how hard he is underneath you, you’re shorts not creating much of a barrier. you’re satisfied with the mark you leave behind, knowing you’ve wanted nothing more then to claim this man ever since you were teenagers. licking a strip from the base of his neck to the mark beneath his ear he shivers and you immediately go back to his lips before he leans his head into your bed

“this was not one of the scenarios that i thought about happening” he pants and you chuckle at him

“you’ve made up scenarios about this?” he suddenly groans in embarrassment

“i shouldn’t have said that”

“what if i said i made up scenarios too?” you ask and his eyes snap to yours “so many times” you lean and whisper directly into his ear and he moans “always thought about this, you under me, me under you. but with less clothes” jungkook’s sighs before you’re suddenly flipped over making you gasp as he lies between your legs.

“if you don’t shut that pretty mouth of yours iam gonna come before any of our clothes are off”

waking up with the sunlight hitting his face, jungkook groans as his eyes flutter open. he’s confused for a second as his surroundings isn’t his dorm but he instantly smiles when he remembers where he is. turning over his eyes meet you, blankets wrapped around you as you face his direction. you were still asleep, hair sprawled on the pillow, sighing he runs his hand on your waist before it moves to your back. you sigh in your sleep before shuffling into his direction, his arms instantly go to hug you into him and your arm goes over his waist making his heart leap. he felt the happiest he’s been since you left, this was the best outcome he could’ve asked for. jungkook had no idea where the confidence came from to kiss you last night, he just couldn’t hold it back now he knew his true feelings. his attention drew to you as he felt you stir awake, looking down your eyes open slowly.

“morning” he mumbles and you sigh before moving onto your back to stretch

“good morning” you let out before yawing and coming back to cuddle into him, making his heart flutter

“i guess we should talk about last night”

“sorry, don’t want to date just wanted to see if the rumours were true” jungkook leans away to look at you but kept his arms around your body “kidding” you say before running your hands down his chest

“you’re so mean” he grumbles making you laugh as you move your hands to his neck, pulling him back to you. he moves down and snuggles his head into you neck, allowing you to cuddle him as you run your fingers through his hair making his eyes close

“isn’t it weird that this doesn’t feel weird?” you ask making him grin. he agreed, nothing about this felt wrong it felt so right.

“iam just going to count everything before this as foreplay” you laugh at this and jungkook joins you

“that was some interesting foreplay” sighing you drop your hand to his shoulder but quickly jungkook grabs your hand and brings it back to his hair, smiling you continue playing with it “so what do you want now? for us i mean?” you were worried about the response, you couldn’t help it. you knew exactly what you wanted from this but you weren’t too sure about jungkook

“isn’t it obvious? iam obsessed with you y/n, iam annoyed i didn’t realise it sooner” your eyes widen at the information but he doesn’t stop “no one has ever meant as much to me as you do, everything you’ve tried to make me love again since you’ve been back doesn’t amount to you. i can’t believe i’ve never noticed it before, my life went to shit went we fell out of contact and it instantly got better when you came back. i need you in my life y/n, i really don’t know what i would do if you wasn’t” your breathing stilled momentarily, you heartbeat heavy. god you felt the exact same way, your life abroad was boring and empty without him. it was the main reason you came back with your parents when they said they were returning

“jungkook, i feel the same about you. you’re one of the most interesting people i’ve ever met. you deserve so much and there isn’t one day that goes by where i wouldn’t drop everything for you” his chest tightened, why had it take them so fucking long to get to this point? he didn’t know but now you were at that point and he was sure that he was never going to let you slip from him again.

jungkook smiled as you walked hand in hand to the greenery on campus to meet with the rest of the boys.

“oh my god it’s happening” taehyung gasps, holding his hand over his heart making you laugh as jungkook sits down and pulls you to sit between his legs. the whole group began clapping making you hide behind your hands but jungkook simply laughed, although a red tint did rise on his cheeks. after they’re done yoongi holds out some money in taehyung’s direction and he happily takes it, making everyone look at them

“did you bet on them getting together?” namjoon asks and yoongi nods making jungkook roll his eyes

“i said by the end of the year, he said by two months. i didn’t count on his shy ass actually making a move” yoongi explains making you chuckle but you stop when you see the other boys begin to swap money between them

“you all fucking bet on us?” you ask in disbelief and they all shrugged with smiles on their faces.

“you’re all horrible friends” jungkook mumbles but that only makes them smile more.

“we’re the best, and in fact i was the one who set you two up on that blind date. you probably wouldn’t even know you went to the same college if it wasn’t for me” hoseok says smugly but you making a noise making everyone turn to you and jungkook look down at you from behind

“y/n?” he asks and you smile

“actually i saw you at a party before the date. i was pretty sure it was you but i wasn’t too sure, i kept staring at you, probably looked creepy as fuck” you chuckle at the memory but jungkook furrows his eyebrows in thought, but jimin beat him to it

“yes i remember! that was you?”

“you saw me?” you asked, horrified you had been caught out

“it was pretty obvious you just stood there staring at him” he laughs and you groan, leaning back into jungkook who’s arms wrap around your front

“i can’t believe that was you, if only i turned around” he thinks out loud as everyone else begins to chat separately.

“i kind of prefer the way we met again, it was unexpected. makes for a good story, almost as if it was fate” jungkook never thought he believed in fate but right now, he just might. and as he looked around at all of his friends, and new girlfriend, laughing with each other he felt content. sure he had fallen back in love with all the little things he used to, but more importantly he realised he loved you all those years ago- and he fell right back in love the moment you turned around in front of that music building when he saw for the first time again.

[obscureashe]

First Loves » KNY headcannons

❧ starring: [ gn!reader ] + tanjiro, inosuke, zenitsu, genya (the bois) ❧ synopsis: just generally figuring out that what they're feeling is a first crush/relationship! ❧ a/n: valentines day man, it's got all the ideas going. and to include how these guys might react is just so cute! (side side note: writing for zenitsu made my heart completely explode)

Tanjiro Kamado »

the way he falls in love is very subtle, and at first he doesn't even realize his feelings

its just a fluttery warm feeling in his chest when your hands accidentally touch, or his soft thoughts when he sees you just being yourself

when it hits him, it hits him hardd

like makes him physically sick to think about it (sick with nerves suddenly)

won't look you in the eye, will jump about a foot back if you're too close, the works

but, i think he'd adjust well after that, because

i mean he's lucky to have fallen in love with you, of all people

why be afraid to show it?

he's very respectful, and sometimes eye contact becomes a little intimidating for him (he laughs it off)

his face is almost always red (and you can tell when he's super happy because the tips of his ears start burning)

tries to be as romantic as possible sometimes, sort of remembering the way his parents showed their love

his love language is definitely words of affirmation

Inosuke Hashibara »

does not know what a crush is, and at first can hardly comprehend the idea of a relationship until zenitsu and tanjiro explain it to him

has the urge to fight you all the time (he doesn't know why, but it's because he wants your attention)

would probably go to shinobu bc "he's sick"

literally him explaining that he's itchy all the time, shaky like he's going to collapse, and sweaty. "probably a fever" in his words.

"you're in love" doesn't explain much to him either when she points out the source of his "sickness" is you.

he still doesn't understand what he feels completely, but does see it through new eyes

like accepting the fact he wants to be around you more than anything

and make you happy (seeing you laugh because of him, just makes his heart flutter)

in a relationship, you'd be taking most of the first steps

like holding his hand or even hugging him

it's a slow process of him adjusting to the relationship

but it's 100% worth every bit

likes praise, and kinda tries hard to get your compliments (gets kind of mopey if its been a while)

kind of his weakness

probably gives you little wild flowers (and occasionally acorns)

Zenitsu Agatsuma »

its not his first crush, so he knows 100% that he's head over heels in love

he falls in love hard, and often. both a good thing and a bad thing

but this one feels different?

you're not like the others he's crushed on because he knows he can trust you with his affections

and that gets him nervous as hell

i think he'd have butterflies and a smile 24/7 (he'd just be so happy to be in the relationship of his dreams with someone so special)

old fashioned, and likes giving you tons of gifts and flowers (he probably thinks its his job to give you the world, and he'd try)

but to be honest, he'd probably need a ton of your attention and guidance

his past relationships taught him nothing but how selfish others could be (doesn't stop him from loving endlessly though so that's good :)

still hasn't had a first kiss, and loves holding your hand

would probably weep from joy if you said yes to his confession

really protective of you

Genya Shinazugawa »

probably swearing in his head and completely aware of his turning feelings towards you

to be honest, he's probably loved you since he first laid eyes on you

he just respected you too much to realize it

and now that he does. . . he's actually prone to avoiding you as much as possible(?)

he's the kind to daydream random scenarios (admiring from a distance)

of course this gets his ears and neck burning like crazy

is in denial for a long time about his feelings, until he comes to terms with it

he needs a little bit of direction and confirmation that you're actually interested in him (it might be the only way to get him to confess anything)

and being in a relationship is a difficult adjustment too

the reality of it all doesn't sink in for a while

like holding your hand or even kissing isn't just a thought anymore is. . . bizarre. to say the least

gets embarrassed easily and it makes him frustrated that its out of his control

just has to walk away sometimes to cool down

is a sucker for the little things and likes feeling like he can protect you

[artsykidwolf-2000]

Hello I would like to request something. How eould Sephiroth act when he has a crush on someone? Idc if it's post-Nibelheim or while he's still a Soldier. I leave that up to you. Thank you so much if you do this and have a wonderful day :3

Great question Le Anonymous! This is similar to what I thought for my Ravenroth ship (maybe?) BUT this topic is cute nonetheless. I might just do both ideas! Hope you like these headcanons!

SEPHIROTH CRUSH HEADCANONS

PRE-NIBELHEIM

Sephiroth as a SOLDIER he never really had romantic feelings, even as a teenager. Once he became more of an adult that's when his tables turned.

He would get flustered when Genesis or Angeal made a joke about the person Sephiroth liked. But he hid it well but you could see pink dust on his cheeks. He'd get confused about butterflies in his stomach and why they were there.

As he explores his feelings more, he tries to be braver around his special someone. When he eventually asked them on a date on his free time he was happy. He shined that shy smile of his. He took them to a fancy restaurant and bought them flowers or a little gift for a start. He's a good listener and would mostly let his date take charge of small talk if they were brave, if not he would.

He might take them on a walk or shopping on the next few dates. He has a lot of money to burn! As the relationship progressed he'd eventually confess his attraction. He's still new to all this lovey dovey crap so it'll be a slow start but with the help of his partner he would be just fine and even start to be very romantic on occasion.

Genesis and Angeal would absolutely still tease him about his romantic efforts and Genesis would try and coach him to the behest of Sephiroth's will. Angeal would just tell Sephiroth to be himself and be more gentleman-like and uphold honor in his word. He loves his friends' efforts but he's already had Genesis talk his ear off about Loveless references...Angeal is more tolerable.

Yes Zack would absolutely have his jaw hit the dang floor about hearing about ALL of this and how Sephiroth has a partner. Zack just can't help not hiding his puppy-like wonder.

Sephiroth talks about his mother a lot with their partner. If his partner was willing to research more about if his mother was truly dead or not AND found the truth then you bet your bottom gil he would try and find his real mother and bring justice to Hojo.

POST-NIBELHEIM

Good lawd where to start....

Ok! With Sephiroth off his rocker bc of everything that's happened. Things would be different and difficult to comprehend.

If Sephiroth still had his partner before he went bonkers he would ABSOLUTELY try and keep them with him at all costs. He still loves them but it's slowly creeping into bad territory. If he did not have a partner beforehand he would kinda stalk them like he does Cloud. Leave flowers and candy and whatever else on their doorstep. Then it turns into jewelry or expensive items. Then himself out of the blue.

It creeps the partner out but the love is still there. His good looks and charm works wonders. They try and figure out what went wrong with him. Maybe they try and reverse what happened if they're more than just a normal person. Magic can only go so far.

If their efforts are fruitful then he slowly reverses back to his old self just a bit but can't quite shake off Jenova unless someone destroys her. He also finds out about his real mother. He would search for her with them.

If it was in vain then he would be angered fairly easily. Trying to turn them into more like him or be more loyal or obey him. Regardless if he still had love in his heart.

Sometimes at night, you can hear cries...but from who is up to the mind's desire...

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

Mutt

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x reader

Warnings/Genre: a horribly horribly long slow burn, excuse any typos, fluff, slight angst, offstandish reader, slightly overbearing new friend (not canon character), potentially cute dogs, jealous friend, said friend has a crush on Joel, Joel gets hurt on patrol, mentions of blood, reader gets a cut on her hand, slightly romantically tense situations, let me know if I missed anything!!

Work Count: 8k

A/n: I've been telling this story to myself as I fall asleep at night and have decided to write down what I've daydreamed up so far!! Wish me luck! I hope this is good. . . And it's so long. . I'm so sorry

--- --- ---

Maria and Tommy found you on a patrol near the river.

It was a cold December this year, and your ratty, thin clothes were making it hard to stay warm. The only way to stay warm was to keep moving. Maria wasn't going to take you in, deadset on letting you pass around the town once the K9 cleared you.

Tommy wasn't so set. He figured that Jackson had the room. You were only one more person. Jackson would always use more people for patrols and work around Jackson.

The couple bickered back and forth for a few moments and once decided, Tommy shucked his jacket around your shoulders and gave you a ride back to Jackson. Once there, they settled you in a house across from them, not directly across more diagonally. You showered and they brought you to the mess hall.

You sat with Tommy and Maria, as well as another man and his kid, and another lady who seemed to have implanted herself in the family. She talked a lot. But you could care less, scarfing down your very delicious food was more important. You could feel the eyes of the man and child on you the entire time you ate.

That night, you slept warmly with a full stomach.

You woke early the next morning, so early the sun was barely up. As you finished dressing in some clothes that Maria had found you, knocking was heard.

You followed the noise to your front door and opened it to see Maria. She mentioned that she had a job for you. You nodded and pulled on a warm, heavy jacket. She led you to the stables and past the horse stalls to a back corner.

There were a few kennels back here, ten at the most. There were dogs in every one.

Maria explained that these were dogs that had wandered into Jackson, or that had been picked up on patrols. They'd been dropped here as no one had the time to train feral dogs, and since you were new you'd been granted that job.

You thanked Maria, and she disappeared into the barn.

You took notes that the dogs had the bare minimum. Like just enough food to get by, a blanket per dog, and a bowl or two per kennel. You hmmpfed and noted that the dogs also had no real way to get outside if they needed, much less a designated area to go outside.

You got to work almost immediately. Introducing yourself to the dogs, filling food bowls from a bag stuffed into a corner and filling water bowls from a spicket on the wall at the end of the little hallway/room. You found a notebook and pencil, deciding to use it for information on the dogs, like scars and particular body characteristics. You found out, just by looking and feeling, that one of the dogs was pregnant. You weren't sure with how many.

You worked the rest of the day cleaning their kennels and fixing it up with your limited tools of whatever you found in the area.

Around the start of afternoon, there was a knock on the doorway of the room, and a cheery call of your name.

It was Debby, the lady who talks a lot from dinner yesterday night, "Hey! How you doing today? I didn't get to hear you talk a lot today? Oh.. You got put on mutt duty.." She trailed off at the end, giving disgruntled looks around the small room.

You nodded, standing up and wiping off your hands, "I'm settling in, slowly. Can I help you with something?"

"Oh well," She paused as she twirled a finger. "I was just on the way to lunch and heard you worked in here now. Just decided to stop by and see if you're hungry."

You thought for a few moments, noting your empty stomach as you'd accidentally skipped breakfast, "Sure. I'm at a good stopping point for right now."

"Great!" Debby grabbed your arm and skipped her way through the barn and into the open. "Have you met Joel yet?"

"Joel?" You asked, not picturing a face to the name.

"Joel Miller!" Debby was exasperated in her answer. "Tommy's brother! He sat with us at dinner last night with his kid."

His face was blurry in memory, but you kind of made the connection. You nodded at Debby's words.

"Joel is so great!" Debby started loudly. "He's so handsome and strong! And he's so kind and willing to do almost anything for anybody!! If only I could get him alone, even just for a few moments, but that kid of his is just glued to his side."

Her cheeriness died back as she mentioned Joel's kid, almost as if Debby has a resentment toward the 14-year-old. You couldn't make sense of her rambling. You'd spent so much time outside that you really didn't understand the way Debby felt towards Joel.

When you both entered the mess hall, you dished up. Debby's gasp pulled you from your focus and she gripped your jacket sleeve. You looked at her, brows scrunched in an irritated way.

"Joel's here!" She whispered at you, shaking you just a bit.

You turned fully to look in the direction your companion was looking in. You spotted Tommy and Maria first, and the presumed Joel and his kid sat across from them. They were engaging in something casual and eating slowly. And as if feeling eyes on them, Tommy turned first and the others followed in suit. Tommy waved you two over.

Debby practically skipped over, and you were much slower. Debby plopped right beside Maria, trying to get as close to Joel as he could. You sat beside Debby, careful to not evade any space.

"Hi Joel!" Debby greeted, too cheery for something casually quiet.

Joel only nodded in response, mouth full of food. His kid only glanced at Debby before back at her food.

"You settling in okay?" Maria asked, leaning forward around Debby.

You nodded, trying your best to not scarf down your food and match the pace of the others.

"You think this job is okay for you? Do you need anything?" Tommy asked, putting his spoon down to show full attentiveness.

"Umm," You swallowed your food. "Maybe a library and some blankets? And maybe a way to let the dogs go outside by themselves?" You were unsure if you were to grab anything extra for the dogs, or if you could modify that part of the barn.

Tommy nodded, "I can show you the library after this, and where we keep our extra clothes and blankets."

"Thank you," You almost started eating before Maria asked you a question.

"You fixing up that outside coral?" Maria asked.

You nodded, "Planning on it, so they don't make such a mess of inside."

"By yourself?" Maria asked again.

"Planning on it," You sense Maria's hesitation. "I was wondering where to get some wood and maybe some chicken wire, and maybe something to smooth the wood out so no one gets any splinters."

"Chicken wire?" Tommy asked, confused.

"So the dogs don't slip out under the fence," You pointed out.

Tommy nodded, "Well, uh my brother here is pretty well-versed in woodwork."

You looked at Joel, who sat across from Tommy. He looked back.

"Joel Miller," Joel reached a hand across the table to shake yours.

"Y/n," You told him, accepting his hand.

"Ellie," Joel's kid offered her hand once you pulled away from Joel. "You'll get the hang of eating slow eventually. I was like that too."

You nodded, settling back down into your chair.

Lunch went a lot slower than you were used to. But later than sooner, you were off to the library. Tommy led the way, informing you that you were welcome to take books home if needed, but to bring them back when you were done.

You nodded along to the information. And when Tommy left to go help Maria with something, you started wandering. You were looking for books on dog behavior and diet, hoping to find good ways to train the dogs under your care.

In just under two hours you found what you needed. You big goodbye to the library caretaker and was on your way back to the barn. You checked up on the dogs, cleaned up any mess they made, and got to reading. You took note of anything you deemed useful as you read.

A knock disrupted you. It was Tommy again. He brought an arm-full of old blankets. You met him at the doorway, thanking him. The man nodded and said if you needed anything that he'll be around. You thanked him again and decided that you'd wait to give the dogs their blankets until they were ready and trained to go outside.

After reading a few more pages, you fixed up some more things around the kennels and cleaned up the place a little more.

The sun went down and the town lights came on. Work slowed the darker it got in the barn. Soon enough, you bid the dogs goodnight and made your way home. You weren't too hungry so you skipped dinner and read until you couldn't anymore.

The next morning, you woke again before the sun. You peeked outside and saw that maybe only one or two people were awake. You got ready slowly, giving the town time to wake up before you officially started your day.

You shucked a big, thick jacket on and headed to the barn. The dogs greeted you with barks and wagging tails. For each kennel you cleaned, you gave the resident dog some love. You fed them and refreshed their water. Your stomach growled and you headed out to get your own breakfast.

The Miller Family was already there and settled, as was Debby. Debby seemed to be talking a very tired-looking Joel Miller's ears off about something. You see Ellie excuse herself from the table and make her way to join you in the line. She grabs a plate and comes up beside you.

“You smell like the barn,” Are the first words Ellie speaks to you. “Do you work with the horses?”

“No,” You answer as your grab some breakfast. “I work in the kennels.”

“Kennels?” Ellie presses.

“There’s some kennels in a room off to the side in the barn,” You tell her, grabbing a drink and utensils. “I can show you sometime if you like.”

“That’d be.. cool,” Ellie gives a chill smile, her eyes sparkling in excitement.

You lead the way to the table and you two take up your usual spots. You start eating instantly, extra hungry from the skipped dinner last night.

“You smell like the barn,” Debby notes with her nose wrinkled in distaste.

You swallow your bite of breakfast, “Woke up early.”

“And the barn was the first place you went?” She asks.

“Well yeah..,” You look at her finally, feeling a little subconscious. “Where else would I go?”

Debby opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again. She decided to not add any more comments about you and continue on with her breakfast.

A small conversation picks up between Tommy and Joel. Something about patrols and work that needs to be done around the town. It’s almost like they plan their day around each other, as if they want to see each other as often as possible. Maria joins in too, noting sightings from patrols on the west side. Joel nods, muttering about going out sometime today or tomorrow.

“What about the fences for the dogs?” Ellie interrupts.

“Still on my list,” Joel answers Ellie and then looks at you. “When would you want to start on that?”

“Whenever works best for you,” You tell him.

“We can start after this, if you’d like,” Joel suggests.

You nod, “That works.”

Joel nods and you go back to your breakfast.

You’re starting to get used to the slow breakfasts, but not really. You’re antsy to get back to the dogs. But breakfast does go by. Joel goes to get some tools and wood, and you go to meet him at the barn. The dogs were antsy for your return, barking and jumping on their chainlink cages as you walk by. You give them love and refill their waters if needed.

Joel shows up not long after, with Ellie in tow. You help carry wood and tools back to where you want to start. You two adults get to work, and you tell Ellie to make herself comfortable inside the barn and that the dogs are friendly. You and Joel tear up the old wooden fence and replace with new, better wood. You both hammer down and sand, making sure the fence is stable and has a lack of splinters. You slowly make your way around this corner of the barn, completing the process of setting up the fence by midday. Putting up the chicken wire only takes another hour or two.

When finished, you ask Joel for another favor, if he doesn’t mind. What? To help make the doggy doors a little better, and make it so the dogs goes in and out as they please.

Joel agrees, leaves to grab some more supplies, and when he comes back he shows you how to install his idea so you can do some doors as well.

Joel takes the previous doggy door off, cuts around the doorway to make the shape a little better, installs a new frame around the door, attaches this rubber to the sides and bottom, and attaches this swinging rubbery door to the doorway. Joel explains that the rubber will act as a seal to keep the cold air out of the kennel, and the new door should flap back and forth a few times before catching on the rubber and sealing the inside from the outside again.

You nod as you take in his instructions and explanation. It’s only slightly confusing but hopefully with some hands on the instructions will become more clear.

Joel moves to the next door down, and you settle in at the one beside that. Joel shows you how to install at a slow pace, making sure to go step by step with you. He does this at the next doggy door, and a few more before weaning you off instruction and trusting you to do it by yourself. It’s not long before you make it to the other side, installing the other five doggy doors. You do the last two yourself, Joel keeping a watchful eye over your shoulder.

Once you’re done, it’s evening. The sun is just barely starting to set. A few of the dogs have begun to venture outside to check out the new fence, their new doors, and Joel. After a few hi’s to the dogs, you take Joel inside through a door for people located in the premises of the new fences. You help him collect and put away his tools, but you seem to get a little too confident with these newfound tools and the small saw slips in your grasp and cuts into your first two fingers. You yelp and hiss, instantly grabbing your two injured fingers in the palm of your injured hand.

“What? What?,” Joel’s instantly concerned, gently grabbing your shoulder to turn you. “What happened?”

He zeros in on your fingers grasped in your hands and gently cups your hands in his.

“It-It’s fine, Joel. Really,” You tell him. “I guess I just wasn’t holding the saw tight enough and it slipped.”

“Let me see it,” Joel demands softly.

“Joel, really,” You pull your hands away slightly. “It’s okay. I can fix it up myself.”

“Just let me see it,” Joel demands again.

You look at his face full of concern and give in, resting your hands in his grasp. You release your fingers from your grasp and let them fall victim to Joel’s eyes. The man gently straightens your fingers with his and look at the cuts on your fingerpads, titling your hand from side to side.

Joel hums, “Come back to my place. I got the stuff to fix you up.”

“I can just do it at my house,” You try to reason with the taller man, who make your hands look like half the size they really are in his.

“Do you have rubbing alcohol?” He asks and you shake your head. “Bandages?” Another head shake from you. “Well, I’ve got those at my place, so just come back with Ellie and I and I’ll get you fixed up before dinner.”

“But-“ You start.

“It’s better than you running around with bleeding fingers trying to get the supplies yourself,” Joel tells you, giving you an intense gaze.

You give in, “Fine.”

Joel nods, shucking the tool bag onto his shoulders and calling Ellie in from outside, as she joined you and stayed out to play with the dogs. He finally let you have your hands back when he led the way out the barn and to his house.

“What’s he so tense about?” Ellie asks, walking beside you.

“I cut myself on the saw,” You show her.

“Oh, well it’s not that bad,” Ellie waved Joel’s tenseness off. “He shouldn’t be that worried. Joel’s had so much worse!”

You don’t have too much time to look around Joel and Ellie’s house before Joel is ushering you off to the kitchen and asking Ellie to put the tool bag away. She does, marching off down the halls.

Joel stands you both over the sink, running the water until it’s decently warm. He helps wash your fingers off until the cuts are visible. They’re not too bad, but too deep to be left alone. Joel reaches up into a cabinet beside the sink and grabs some rubbing alcohol and some bandaids. You hiss when he pours the rubbing alcohol over the cuts, the stinging causing you to pull away on instinct. Joel gives you a minute before putting your fingers back under the water to wash away any more debris and any remaining alcohol. He turns the sink off and dabs the areas dry with a thin rag. Joel puts the bandaids on himself, he doesn’t give you a choice to try and put them on yourself. Once satisfied with his work, Joel finally lets you have your hand to yourself.

“Keep the bandaids on for a few days,” He tells you. “Either you can let them fall off or take them off when you’re ready. But if the cuts are still not healed when the bandaids come off, feel free to stop by and come grab some more.”

“Okay,” You nod, rubbing your good fingers against your injured ones, feeling the bumping texture of the bandaid. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Joel nods.

Joel looks at you for a moment. You watch as his eyes dart from here to there. But he gets to look for only a moment before the front door is thrusted open. In comes Debby.

“Joel!” She calls into the house, looking ahead. “Sorry for stopping in like this, but I figured it’s dinner time and you’d want to know! And we can like totally walk there together if you’re. . . . ready. .”

Debby trails off at the end of her sentence as she makes eye contact with the pair of you. She assesses the situation before speaking.

“Y/n? What are you going her?” Her tone is a nice balance between friendly and surprised, but her eyes scream confusion and threat.

“I got hurt working today and Joel fixed me up,” You tell her.

“Oh! Are you okay?” Debby slams the front door shut, rattling some little figurines on a nearby table.

She grabs your fingers a bit roughly, making you wince, and looks them over.

“He fixed you right up, didn’t he?” Debby voiced is pitched. She looks at Joel, “Didn’t you, Joel?” She almost speaks to him like a puppy that’s done something cute.

Joel nods, “I offered.” His voice is monotone and he turns to put away the medical stuff, and throw away the bandaid wrappings.

“Well, girl!” Debby turns to you. “Don’t be such a klutz next time, yeah?”

“Umm,” You hesitate. “Yeah.”

Debby is tense. Almost as if she’s taking you being in Joel’s house as a threat to her crush on the man.

Ellie comes stomping down the hallway. She’s easy to hear when the kitchen has gone quiet. She calls out to Joel.

“I’m hungry, man!” She expressed. “When are we going to eat?”

She turns the corner and her raised eyebrows fall when she see the additional person in the kitchen. Ellie huffs, looking at Joel with an irritated expression. Joel gives the hint of one back.

“We can head out now,” Joel says.

“Good!” Ellie marches on to the front door and outside. She clobbers down the steps, “I’m so hungry!!”

You three adults trail after her. Joel turns on his porch light and shuts the front door. Joel takes big steps to catch up to his advancing daughter, urging her to slow down a bit.

Debby is uncharacteristically tense at dinner. Her chatter doesn't stop, but the edge to her tone gives her away. The table either doesn't notice or doesn't care. It's whatever to you, honestly. You're too focused on eating dinner, and figuring out how to hold a fork with three fingers.

"What happened there?" Tommy asks you during a break in Debby's dinner talk.

"Work accident," You tell Tommy after swallowing a bite of tonight's dinner. "One of the small saws slipped through my hand when I was helping Joel put tools away."

"It's hard to work in the cold," Tommy nods. "Your hands go numb and stuff. You got gloves for next time?"

You shake your head no.

"I can go by and get you some," Maria offers. "And some antibiotics, just in case."

"Oh thanks!" You thank Maria.

"I can drop them off at the barn if that works," Maria says.

"That works," You tell her. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You find the gloves the next morning, sitting atop a stool that you use sometimes. You pull them on and get to work that day, training the dogs to go outside for potty instead of inside. You check up on your pregnant dog, which you've named "Mama." She doing good and growing steadily day by day. The only odd thing in the bunch is a dog at the end, that you've named "Mick" has got a case of the sniffles. You'll have to keep an eye on him.

After your little accident, the days go on. You have meals with the Miller family, which has lead to you and Ellie growing closer. She stops by the barn every once in a while, mostly to come play with the dogs and horses though. Debby and you grow closer as well, once you move past the tenseness she feels when she thinks you and Joel stand a little too close for her comfort. It's whatever to you, you're not entirely bothered by it. Maria and the Miller boys stop by too, to check in and stuff (Joel's excuse). Joel stops by a bit more than the couple though, just to see how the wood work is hanging, he says.

Mick, the skinny black mutt at the end of the row of kennels on the left, seems to get worse as the days go on. His sniffles and runny nose evolve into coughs, weakness, and a lack of eating. You get worried and run him to Jackson's local vet. The doctor says he's run into some type of winter cold. To her, it seems he's coming down from the worst of it. The vet gives you a small bag of this white powdery stuff and tells you to mix it in with his food and water. You follow orders, and give Mick another blanket.

There's one day, after dinner while you were checking on the dogs before you went home, that Mick doesn't get up. He hasn't really eaten since breakfast. You pet him, feeling his ears and they're burning hot. You worry and pace for a small bit, wondering what to do. You decide the best thing for Mick, and yourself, is to stay with him that night. You’re lucky that you wore some thicker clothes today, it’s supposed to be a cold one tonight. Despite Mick’s heat, he’s shivering. You pile up some blankets in the kennel and get settled for the night. All the lights in the barn are off, the only light now is coming from the heat lamps that hang low from the ceiling. You curl you and Mick into a corner. You sit up so Mick can lay on your lap. It’s uncomfortable but you fall asleep anyway.

You’re roused awake by someone calling your name. You think you’re dreaming until your name is called again. You blink open your eyes and see a figure crouched in front of you, resting a hand on your leg.

It’s Joel.

There concern written on his face, and perhaps a little bit of confusion.

“What are you doing here?” Joel asks in a hushed voice.

“Mick’s sick,” You voice is raspy with sleep and lack of water.

You palm Mick’s head, feeling around his fur. His heated ears have cooled considerably. Maybe he’s getting better.

Joel huffs, you’re not sure what for.

“What are you doing here?” You asks back, a little more awake now.

“Well your porch light wasn’t on and- and Ellie said you hadn’t come home yet,” Joel explains.

“What time is it?” You asks again. There’s not windows here to look out of to guesstimate the time.

“Awhile after midnight,” Joel answers. “The town’s already gone to sleep.”

“And why didn’t you,” You press.

Joel hesitates, “I. . . I couldn’t sleep.”

You hum in response.

“You mind if I stay with you?” Joel asks.

“Sure,” You nod.

Joel situations himself beside you, your shoulders are barely pressed against each other.

“It’s. . supposed to be cold tonight,” Joel notes.

“You want a blanket?” You ask, thinking that he’s implying that he’s cold.

“Sure,” Joel says.

He takes the one you hand him and situates it on top of himself.

Due to your tiredness, you fall back asleep rather quickly, enveloped in the warmth of the dog on your lap and the man on your side. Unbeknownst to you, when you do fall into a good sleep, your head falls to rest on Joel’s broad shoulder.

Joel’s a little tense at first, but when the heat from you and the heat lamp above soak into his clothes, he’s dozing right off to sleep.

The next morning, you wake by yourself. You're so so warm, but your body hurts so so bad. You rub the possibly bluriness from your eyes before opening them. The room is lit from the plastic doggy door. It's not too bright out, so either the sun isn't up all the way or it's super cloudy outside. As you wake up more, you realize the position your in.

Somehow, someway, you've made your way under Joel's arm and you're resting your head on his upper chest. Mick has moved as well, from your lap to Joel's. He looks comfy, passed out.

You reach over and pet Mick's head, massaging his ears. They've cooled back down to a regular temperature. Maybe all Mick needed was some company for a night. You sigh and settle back down. You close your eyes for a moment before you hear footsteps and someone clearing their throat. You open your eyes again and see Ellie standing in front of the kennel.

"So this is where Joel ran off to in the middle of the night?" Ellie whispered, an amused expression on her face.

"I thought you knew where Joel was," You asked, only a little confused.

"Oh no," Ellie shakes her head. "He ran off in the middle of the night. Something about going to the barn to check on something. I guess you were that something."

"I guess," You cast a glimpse at Joel. Since when did he become so worrisome, especially towards you. "What time is it?"

"Breakfast time," Ellie answered, "Which is why I stopped by here."

Ellie turned her attention towards Joel and raised her voice from a whisper, "Joel! Joel! It's like way past your morning alarm!"

Joel only groans in response. He stretches, raising his arms above his head. When he puts his arms back down, Joel traps you back against his oh so warm body. But he jumps when he feels you under him.

"Sorry. . 'bout that," Joel apolgizes, putting his arms down in front of him.

"It's alright," You tell him.

"So awkward," Ellie mumbles, kicking the dirt floor of the barn.

Joel moves to get up, but a furry body prevents him from doing so.

Mick shuffles and wakes from his slumber. Without picking up his head, he looks back at the two of you and wags his tail. He already looks so much better.

"You feeling better, boy?" You ask him, petting his head.

His sniffs your hand, and licks it.

"'cuse me, kid," Joel pats Mick on the head and shifts his legs little by little until Mick lifts his head. He gets up slowly, groaning as he uses his knees as leverage to get up from the dirt floor.

You follow suit, groaning as well. You'll be regretting sleeping in a dirt floor today. You do your best to stretch out your condensed muscles.

Joel limps and wobbles a little bit as he makes his way out of the kennel and to Ellie.

"That's what you get for sleeping on a dirt floor, man," Ellie shoves Joel lightly.

While the two bicker, you check up on Mick. He's sitting up now, wagging his tail while doing his best to give you a tired little smile. He looks so much better now! Especially with the lack of sniffling and coughing.

After a few minutes of petting Mick, you turn towards the bickering father and daughter, "You don't mind if I feed the dogs real quick before breakfast, do you?"

"Not at all," Joel says.

"Can I help?" Ellie asks excitedly.

"Sure!" You say.

You tell her to gather the bowls from the kennels on the right while you gather the bowls from the kennels on the left. You fill the bowls and split the ten bowls between you two again to deliver them to the dogs. After feeding, you also refill their water bowls. Soon enough, the dogs are chowing down on their food and you three head off to the mess hall.

It's cold out, colder than when you arrived at Jackson. It seems the worst of winter is making it's way up and into the mountains. You're glad to get into the warm mess hall as soon as possible.

Once you three get settled and start eating and conversating with the rest of your group, a shadow at the corner of your eye causes you to turn to your right.

A young woman stands to your right, looking a little nervous as she twiddles her fingers.

"You work at the kennels, right?" She asks.

"I do," You nod. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I was just wondering if any dogs are available for adoption," The woman explains. "I just feel bad 'cause it's getting colder out now."

"I'd say the dogs are ready for adoption," You tell her. "You can come by the barn after breakfast to come check the dogs out."

"Oh thank you!" She smiles. "I'll see you after breakfast!!"

The young woman practically skips back to her table, excitedly telling her group of friends her plans for the afternoon.

Breakfast goes by unexcitedly. The only relatively interesting news that is that Joel will be going out on patrol today, but that's about it.

The Millers, Debby, and you go your separate ways after dinner. You trot in the direction of the barn, meeting the lady from the beginning of breakfast there. She shows up soon after you, introducing herself as Mary. Mary brings along a friend as well, a woman around her age named Saturn.

You introduce the duo to the resident dogs, telling them about their personalities and any mishaps they've had while at the kennel.

Mary takes a shibu and Saturn takes a chow. As a form of payment, they exchange some homemade stuff that they made in their free time, like soaps and a wood carved duck. You give the ladies their dogs' favorite blankets and bid them goodbye.

As soon as you're doing cleaning up the empty kennels, a few more people stop by that are interesting in adopting some dogs as well. Soon enough, you have a little gathering of people in the room. By the afternoon, all dogs except Mama, your resident pregnant german shepherd. Someone even adopted Mick, even though he was recently sick. You told Mick's owner what the vet told you about his bag of medicine. The owner reassured you that Mick was in good hands.

It was quiet in the room now. You cleaned up slowly, folding blankets and stacking food and water bowls. You sighed, resting on the counter that sat against the right wall and looked at Mama.

"Well, looks like it me and you now, girl," You told her.

She wagged her tail in response.

You paused for a few moments, thinking. You figured that bringing Mama to your house, instead of leaving her here, wouldn't be so bad.

"You wanna come home with me?" You asked Mama, opening her kennel door.

In response, she got up and hobbled her way over to you.

You figured that was a yes, and you gathered up her blankets and food bowls. You led the way through the barn, letting Mama either stop for a sniff or pause for a break. She was about as big as a hippo now, and no doubt was she about to pop any day now.

You two slowly made your way back to your house, and you get Mama settled in the downstairs bedroom with all her blankets. For now, you place her food and water bowl in the kitchen.

It's afternoon by the time you've settled you and Mama at home. You're not sure what to do now that you don't have ten dogs to take care of. Maybe you'd eat lunch or something. It's a bit late for lunch, but that means you missed the lunch rush. You pat Mama on the head and tell her you’re off for lunch. She's rested up on the couch and she makes no sign to move from her spot on the couch as you open the front door.

You walk by the barn on your way to the mess hall and see Ellie making her way from the barn. She looks a little dejected before she see you, and then she lights right back up. The girl trots right over to you, bumping into your shoulder when she’s close enough.

“Whatcha up to, kid?” You ask.

"Well, Joel's on patrol and the kids here and doing something totally lame so.. I was looking for you and saw all the dogs were gone," Ellie kicked some dirt at the end of her explanation, hiding her dejection.

"Oh sorry kid," you apologized. "Yeah, most the dogs got adopted out today. The only dog that didn't was Mama, the pregnant one."

"Where is she?" Ellie asked. "She's not in the barn or outside."

"I actually brought her home," You told Ellie. "I didn't think it was fair to leave her there herself, especially since she's already so close to having her puppies."

"Oh is she really?" Ellie looked up at you, surprised.

"I know!" You acknowledge her surprise. "It doesn't feel like that much time has passed but I guess it has."

Ellie nodded.

"Well.. I am going to the mess hall to get some lunch if you'd like to join," You offered.

"Sure!" Ellie took your offer and you two were off to the mess hall.

Since you two were taking a late lunch, there were very few people in the mess hall. Only a few of the kitchen staff and a few people eating late lunch were seen in the mess hall.

You and Ellie decided to sit at your regular table but across from each other. It was nice to have someone sit across from you for once, especially someone so pleasant to talk to. Ellie was so pleasant to talk to that you two accidentally had stayed until evening, when the early eaters started trickling in. In a decision to make room for the early dinner crowd, you and Ellie had decided to go and walk around town. There was a slight chill to the air, but nothing too bad. The lack of a breeze made the early evening air easier to handle.

Eventually, you two had made your way back to your house. Ellie had beelined for Mama, who hadn't moved from her spot on the couch. You gotten the three of you settled in your living room with blankets and warm drinks. You and Ellie got to know each other more and you learned she wasn't originally from Jackson like you thought, but from the east coast. In return, you told her where you came from. You two ended up bonding over the struggles of the world outside of Jackson.

Around mid-conversation, a frantic knocking was heard from your front door. You paused and turned, glancing over at Ellie who looked as confused as you did. You got up and opened your front door caustiously.

A sobbing and hyperventilating Debby. She practically burst through your partially opened front door and into your arms. You barely caught her as you stumbled back. She was mumbling incoherently through her sobs and hiccups.

"What?" You asked, trying to pry the sobbing woman from your arms.

"Joel's hurt!!" Debby yelled through her tears.

Panic and alarm hit you. You looked and Ellie to see the same emotions mirrored onto her face. She shucked on her jacket and was out the door before you could get Debby up onto her feet. You shoved Debby out and mumbled a "be back" to Mama before shutting your front door and attempting to catch up to a sprinting Ellie.

Ellie had burst through Jackson's infirmary before you got there, calling out for her dad. You and Debby caught up to her. You stood behind Ellie, looking for Joel while Debby clung to your jacket.

A sob tore from Debby's throat and she lunged forward, leaving you and Ellie behind.

Predicting the distraught woman's path, you spotted Joel settled in a back corner. There was blood on his face and his right eye was squinty. His clothes and hair were disheveled, splattered with blood. Currently, his hands were being cleaned up and bandaged. Whoever he got in a fight with, neither of the opponents came out pretty.

You nudged Ellie and led her quickly and quietly from the infirmary to her dad. Once there, Debby was all over him. Sobbing and pawing at the injured man. Joel winced at her ministration, looking tired and irritated.

"Ma'am. Ma'am," One of the nurses called attention to Debby. "You're getting in the way of his treatment. Please back away."

The nurse's words had no affect, and Debby ended up having to be pulled away from Joel and calmed down on another cot nearby.

You decided to let Debby have some time to herself and stay here with Ellie in case she needed any support.

Ellie stood there nervously, not wanting to get in the way of the nurses but also wanted to be next to Joel.

"He'll be okay," Ellie mumbled to herself. "He's been through so much worse."

You pat Ellie on her shoulder, comforting her the best you could in the situation.

At the mumbling, Joel looked up and made eye contact with Ellie. He adjusted on the cot and pat the spot beside him. Ellie sat down beside Joel, practically pressed up against him.

"What happened?" Ellie asked.

“Just some raiders that ambushed us over by the ridge,” Joel explained.

He winced when the nurse dabbed at the cut above Joel’s right eye, as she had finished tending to his hands.

You glanced down at his hands. They were relaxed at the moment. There were some cuts and splotches of bruises littered across the peak of Joel’s knuckles. Joel’s left hand was bandaged from the knuckles and down around his wrist. He must’ve gotten really hurt on that hand.

“Well, you fucked them up pretty good, right?” Ellie asked, her tone indicating that she was trying to lighten the mood a little.

“ ‘course,” Joel chuckled, patting Ellie on the knee.

Two bodies joined you on one side. You looked over to see Maria and Tommy. They both looked over at Debby before turning their attention to Joel.

“What’s up with her?” Tommy asked you, confusion on his face.

“No idea,” You shrugged.

You noticed a black eye forming under Tommy’s left, mirroring Joel’s squinty right eye.

“You on patrol too?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Joel seemed to have gotten the worst of it compared to me.”

You nodded.

“He’s tough though,” Maria noted, switching her attention from Joel to you. “I heard you had a busy day at the kennels. How many dogs got adopted?”

“All but one,” You answered.

“Oh really?” Tommy looked surprised. “I figured they all would’ve gone.”

“The only one that didn’t go was the pregnant one,” You told him. “But I brought her home cause it didn’t feel fair to leave her up there all by herself.”

“She didn’t give birth yet?” Maria asked.

“Nope,” You said. “Any day now though.”

Maria nodded.

The nurse stood from her stool and worked on gathering her medical supplies, “All fixed up, Miller. Take it easy for a few days.”

“I’ll try,” Joel responded.

He groaned as he got up. The man massaged the back of his neck with a hand, squinting in discomfort. Joel eyed the three of you, no readable emotion in his eyes.

“I need a drink,” Joel groaned.

“I bet you do,” Tommy chuckled.

“You wanna join?” The older Miller brother switched his attention to you.

“Awe what?!” Ellie exclaimed. “Then who am I gonna hang out with?”

“Go hang out with that Dina girl,” Joel reasoned. “You seem to like her a lot.”

Ellie scoffed, her cheeks turning just the slightest of pinks, “I guess..”

“I’ll be okay, kid,” Joel told his kid.

“Plus, it’s about time we get this hermit out her shell,” Tommy joked, bumping your shoulder with his fist.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Those dogs loved me.”

“ ‘course,” Tommy shrugged.

The younger Miller lead the way out of the infirmary and into the cold winter air.

The sun was just a few feet above the horizon line now, painting the sky in oranges and pinks. A few people were out and about, but due to the cold weather slowly making its way over the mountains there weren’t many.

Once you’d reached the bar, called Tipsy Bison, Joel told Ellie to scamper off (in his grumpy, loving way) before leading the five of you into the bar. Because of course once Debby had seen Joel up and walking, she had attached herself to his hip and snuggled up to him all the way to the bar. You’d decided to hang back with Tommy and Maria to avoid awkwardness.

Being quite early at the bar had its quirks apparently. You’d all gotten chairs at the bar-top right next to each other. In a way to for you not to feel left out, you sat between the Miller brothers. You talked primarily with Tommy and Maria, as Joel seemed only focused on drinking at the moment.

As the sun set and more people trickled in, the five of you moved to a table near the outer circle and away from the crowd. With the table being circular, there was a bit more of an even option to talk to everyone. Most talk was about the town’s going ons and how the patrol went. You chipped in a couple times, but not too much. You’d spent these past few months in the barn and the mess hall, so you had no interesting news to share with the group.

Slowly, music had started from a jukebox in the corner of the bar and as people started dancing, Tommy and Maria had excused themselves and disappeared into the crowd. This left you with Debby and Joel, which wouldn’t have been awkward if it weren’t for Debby’s one-sided flirting towards a very tired-looking Joel.

You excused yourself and headed off towards the bar to get another drink.

It was louder over by the bartop compared to your little corner near the back of the barn. Thankfully, you ordered your drink without much hassle. You waited patiently, standing with your forearms resting on the counter and tapping your fingers against the wood along with the music. You felt a body join you on your left, but thought nothing of it until they started talking.

“You looking for someone to dance with?”

A tall blond man stood on your left, leaning against the counter with one arm. He already held a drink in his hand. His blue eyes looked you up and down, only briefly making eye contact.

“No,” You observed him briefly, before looking ahead at the bar again.

“Awe.. Why not?” The man sighed, setting a hand on your upper arm. “You got something better to do?”

You only looked at the blond man. After a few heartbeats went by, you tried to pull your arm away from the unknown man but to no avail. This man kept a rather tight grip on your upper arm.

“Well?” The man asks.

“Can you let me go please?” You try to pull your arm away with a bit more force this time.

“Why?” The blond man only tightened his grip. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Before you could respond, you could feel an overbearing presence over your shoulder. You didn’t have a chance to look at the person before they spoke.

“Is there a problem here?” Joel spoke from behind you.

When the blond man made eye contact with Joel, he let go of your arm so fast that you almost thought something burned him. His previously smirky expression developed into one of panic and fear. The man scooted back from you a bit.

“No-nothing for you to worry about, Joel,” The man seemed to have a bit of confidence still in him as he tried to tell Joel off.

“Go scamper off, kid,” Joel brushed the comment aside. “Go bother someone who wants to be bothered.”

The blond man huffed and left your side, shoulder-checking Joel before stalking off into the crowd. You watched the man walk off before Joel joined you at the bar top counter.

“You alright?” He asked, ordering his own drink when a bartender came by.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I’m more weirded out than anything.”

Joel nodded. He set a soft hand on your upper arm, patting it once or twice while you waited for your drinks.

After getting your drinks, you and Joel went back to your table.

Debby had left and you couldn’t see her anywhere in the crowd. You assumed she went off into the crowd after Joel went to get another drink for himself. You weren’t worried too much. Your friend has lived in Jackson longer than you, so you trusted that she knew her way around town.

“So,” Joel took a sip of his drink. “Got anything going on for the rest of the night?”

“Umm.. Probably just gonna go home, check on Mama, and go to bed,” You told him. “Not the most excited.”

“You mind if I. . joined you? If that’s not a problem,” Joel took another sip from his drink, as if hiding behind the glass.

"Not at all," You smiled.

Joel's sudden shyness was unlike him, as was the pink tint to his cheeks. Why? Was it hot in here? You didn't think so. You shrugged his reaction off, not thinking anything about it.

After sipping down your drink, you and Joel left Tipsy Bison and headed off to your house. It was dark out now, and much colder than today. Not many people were on the streets either, not unusual for a cold winter night in Jackson. After your walk through town, you came up onto your porch. You noticed a medium-sized black lump on your porch. You didn't turn your porch on before you left in the late afternoon, so it was hard to tell what was on your porch.

As you came closer, the black lump lifted up it's head. It was a dog. The dog wagged it's tail as you came closer. Joel hung back a bit as you stepped up onto your porch. In the full moon light, you could see the black dog was Mick! He must've ran away from home and found your house!

"It's just Mick," You turned and told Joel. "He must've gotten out from his owner's house earlier."

"Ah," Joel joined you up on the porch and gave the black dog a few pats on the head. "Okay."

You opened your front door and welcomed Joel and Mick into your house. You told Joel to make himself comfortable.

As you hung up your jacket onto the hooks on the wall by your door, you noticed the lack of Mama's greeting as you came inside. You told Joel you'll be right back, you're just going to check up on your dog. You made your way into the downstairs bedroom and was greeted by small yaps and the thump of a wagging tail. You turned the light on and saw Mama laying in a nest of blankets with three very tiny bodies nestled against her belly.

"Oh!" You exclaimed.

You joined Mama on the floor, checking the new puppies. They weren't wet and all were breathing fine. You concluded that Mama must have given birth sometime early into your night out. You gave your dog a couple pats on the head and moved her water bowl closer to her so she could take a drink.

The click-clack of claws and the thumping of boots made you turn around.

Joel and Mick stood in the doorway. Upon the sight of Mama, Mick came in and gave Mama a couple licks on the head before settling down beside her. Joel still stood there, observing the situation.

"You alright in here?" He asked. "Thought I heard you say something?"

"I was just surprised that Mama gave birth already," You told Joel, settling down into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor. "Would you like to come see?"

"Sure," Joel was quick to come settle down beside you, letting Mama sniff his hand before giving her some well-deserved pets on the head.

You watched him interact with the dogs, surprised to see Joel relax so quickly in the presence of animals. It was almost like you weren't in the room with him anymore. Almost.

Joel sat up a bit, looking at you now, "So how are those fingers?"

You brought your hand up to look at your injured fingers, "They're not too bad. Still a little tender." You looked up at Joel. "How's your face?"

"Sore," Joel responded, smiling a bit.

"Too bad I couldn't be the one to fix you up," You sighed a little. "To repay the favor."

"Next time," Joel said.

"Next time?" You questioned, surprised. "I hope next time is just a little scratch and not a spilt eyebrow."

Joel only laughed at you.

You two spent the rest of the night sitting in the room with the dogs and getting to know each other a little more. Joel was a complicated, many-layered man who seemed to have very few soft spots. You were happy to be friends with Joel, but something deep down was tempting to see if you could be more.

[scented-morker]

Enhypen when you’re their Bite Me dance partner

Idol!enha x background dancer reader (they’re female, but I didn’t use any pronouns so can be read as gn) 945 words. ⚠️PSA: just bc idols interact with the other gender doesn’t mean it’s romantic and I am in no way trying to imply that!! This is fanfiction and shouldn’t be taken too seriously!! ⚠️

Heeseung

No because when you first meet him he seems so calm and polite and you’re like “wow this is gonna work out so well”

Because even tho he’s super hot (hello?) He’s not trying to use it on you

But we’re all very familiar with the switch up when he starts performing

suddenly he’s smirking and holding eye contact and just 😳

You feel like you might need to go take a lap and cool off

HAVE YOU SEEN THAT PART IN THE SECOND VERSE WHERE LIKE HE GRABS HIS DANCERS HANDS DOWN HIS CHEST??? (1:39 in the 230602 mubank performance 🫣)

He chills out eventually but the first time he literally made you run your hands down his chest 🫠🫠🫠

“You know you can touch me right?”

He notices your hesitant movements and literally grabs your hands to put them on his neck 🥵

“See that wasn’t so hard was it?” bark bark bark bark bark

Jay

Literally SO respectful

When you guys meet for the first time he goes out of his way to get to know you because he doesn’t want it to be awkward when you start dancing

He keeps it up later too, he always asks “is this okay?” before putting his hands on your back or anything (even when you’ve run the song fifty times)

Every time you come back on stage he gives you a little wink 🫠

And everytime you do the like dip/lean back thing he makes silly faces at you when you come back up 😭

So all the fancams are trying to figure out why you’re laughing in the middle of the dance 😔

Jake

Okay because he’s a flirt and he knows that he should keep it professional with you but you’re just so pretty 🥹 he can’t help it

You notice how he always seems to be touching you a little longer than everyone else

Like Jake the choreographer stopped everyone five minutes ago why are you still holding on 🤨

Always acts like he’s gonna drop you when you lean back in that one part (I hope you know what I’m talking about)

Like he’ll have his hands on your waist and then let go just to watch you drop and then catch you again

(He thinks your angry face is cute when the song ends and you smack him for it)

Bites his lip EVERYTIME on the part where you touch his chin 🫣

Sunghoon

He’s so awkward I’m sorry 😭😭

Like you’re ready to start dancing and make your choreographer proud but he’s really making it hard

You can tell he doesn’t love the idea of touching you (rude 😐) so you try to go a little easier on him

You just lay your hands on him instead of grabbing or anything, and you don’t lean as far back bc he’s not actually holding your waist he’s just putting his hand in front of it 😭

But then the choreographer yells at him because he’s gonna end up dropping you so he has to actually touch you

“Uh is this okay? Where- where should I?”

You try not to laugh at his bashfulness, grabbing his hand and putting it on your waist

“You have to support my back right here okay? Don’t let me fall.”

BUT HES THE ONE WHO FELL (for you) 🤭🤪🤩

Sunoo

Literally made you feel instantly comfortable, he has the least threatening aura ever

He was all “hi! I’m sunoo!! I can’t wait to dance with you 🥰😁”

And you were like ☺️

At one point when you guys had marked it a few times, not actually doing the partner stuff you looked at him and went “are you sure you can hold me up?”

It’s not like he had to hold all of your body weight but like dang you needed some support ya know, and he just moved so gently that you were a little suspicious

This offended him immensely of course, and he picked you up right then and there

Just threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

“Yeah, I’ll be okay”

okayyyyyyyyyy 🥵

Jungwon

Slow burn x100 bc he’s a responsible and professional leader 👏

He asked Niki about how to better dance with a partner because he didn’t have any experience with it and wants to make sure he does a good job 🥹 (my baby)

He is DETERMINED to make this choreography perfect, and is not afraid to correct you

“Make sure you actually touch my chest when you do that, it doesn’t look as good when you just pretend.”

Okay Jungwon 🤭 I’m sure that’s why 🤭

When he starts really performing with facials and everything you’re literally losing it 😭

Like face burning bright red, what happened to the cute guy you were dancing with for the last month why is he staring into your soul mid dance

One time he touched your knee while you did the like drag up by their chin move and you literally had to take a walk

Riki

He knows what he’s doing okay?

Like I said previously, he’s the only one with experience in partner dancing

So you were worried at first that he’d be shy because you knew he was the youngest one

But then the first time you ran the song together he grabbed your waist and dropped you so low your ponytail wiped the floor 😭😭

He makes SO MUCH eye contact you literally are on the verge of combusting

When the boys point it out he says it’s because he has to watch you to make sure you don’t need anything because that’s what good observant partners do (boys a liarrr)

Since you’re one of the ones that has to start on the ground he always put his jacket on the ground during practice so you wouldn’t hurt your back/shoulders 😭😭

[fridayiminlcve]

what is your problem with tiktok or booktok and colleen hoover lmao its not that bad surely

the fact that it actively promotes overconsumerism, the way it sells books to you by just playing into already heavily milked out tropes with very specific character niches that are seen in every book nowadays and how the reading is just seen as something aesthetic or a part of the "it girl routine" maybe? if those are enough reasons for you?

does the fact that these books are the first things you see when you walk into a bookstore not bother you? when you ask someone for a book recommendation they'll follow it up with "its a romance slow burn enemies to lovers". it's always about the aesthetic of the book, how many lines can you take out of context and post as a compilation of your super cute romantic annotations page on instagram. no analyzing the book, no theories, no symbolism or meaningfulness at all. how people stand reading those kind of books and still feel any kind of emotions over these flat as hell books with no world or character building is genuinely baffling to me

no one seems to know about actual literature anymore, which not to sound like a boomer but i think its definitely true. there's always been trend cycles, i agree such as the harry potter craze from the 1990s to the 2000s and the dystopia hunger games/maze runner/divergent blast in the early 2010s but tiktok has just.. shortened these cycles so much. as a result, people like our darling colleen hoover whose written around 46 books since 2015 (according to google) try come up with as much fresh content as they can as quickly as possible for the readers (see overconsumption). the fact that this lady outsold the bible is not outstanding to me, its fucking concerning.

and after all that, the result is badly written books with characters who're about as dimensional as a piece of paper, overuse of tropes, read like they've been written by a toddler, toxic-ass relationships being romanticised, very unnecessary sex scenes and countless other things. seriously if i wanted to read about the kind of stories hoover tells i would just open a wattpad account.

not clowning on those who made the choice to read it. i'm trying to highlight some of the flaws i find in authors like colleen hoover, sjm, ali hazelwood, casey mcquinston. some of them might be good, i wouldn't know because i actively try and avoid them at all costs. also i am BEGGING u all who will have an objection to this post to reach out of your comfort zone and read something different like non-fiction or fantasy or one of the classics for once if you only read booktok like seriously it might be hard but just do it for the love of god!! if you're annoying on this i will block you by the way i don't care

[kneelingshadowsalome]

FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 4/4

König x F!Reader

Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Word count: 10 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Another long chapter, but it's the last one, so... Enjoy! ^^

The next night, you dream awake.

You didn’t want to sleep with your back turned against him, and König didn’t even need to scoop you into his arms. You went there by yourself, completely willingly. You were disappointed when he didn’t even try anything; he just fell asleep like a baby after the hangover that left him weak.

Your hand is on his chest, right over his heart, as you listen to his soft snore. It’s like the whole world has shrunk into this bed, like your entire life suddenly consists of him. You can’t even hear the birds, the occasional gust of wind, or the pair of sandals outside the tent going to a nightly pee. The only thing you can hear or see or feel is him.

His heart under your palm. His chest against your cheek. The slow, steady rise and fall of it, the push and pull of it like a tide. His leg, draped across your hip, enclosing you under a heavy body that clings to you like he never wants to let you go.

And…

No. 

It’s too stupid.

“Love” is something bards sing about. There’s no time for it in the real world; lust brings people together, and they multiply like birds and beasts. They simply flock together for warmth, food and survival. Love is the property of dreams and songs, something that happened at the dawn of time but now only occurs in tales and plays. Surely, a mountain giant knows nothing about love… He just wants to stuff his cock inside you and alleviate the burn of his loins.

But his words still linger.

”I have fallen in love with you.”

You repeat them over and over again in your head, snuggling even closer to him, your heart flaring into a small bonfire when he squeezes you in return through sleep. The warmth spreads across your chest, it makes your toes tingle, and the tingles rise up to your head like ale, bringing tears to your eyes. 

Why does he have to be like this…?

There’s a sudden crack of thunder outside, and it makes you startle and clutch him tighter. It’s soon followed by a downpour of rain, the weight of it like a blanket spreading across the land. The drops beat the tent with so much noise you fear the whole abode will collapse from the force of them.

Another crackle sends you to grip him with fear; a violent rip of lightning makes you bury your head in his neck. König mostly wakes up to your distress rather than the sounds of thunder and hail, rumbling softly to the crown of your head and drawing you closer to him. You’ve always been afraid of thunder because nothing can compete with the fury of the Sky Father. You whimper as another roar shakes the bed, the very earth beneath you, and the rain begins to beat the tent in full.

“Don’t be afraid, little one,” König mutters, unafraid and clearly about to fall back to sleep again. “Only sky father making love to his woman...”

His explanation of the horrible display of the sky god’s power wipes your mind blank for a moment. He uses the same name of the god as you, but the viewpoint is thoroughly foreign. Is this the sound of lovemaking to him? 

“Safe here,” he squishes you against him until it’s difficult to breathe. Your heart is still beating in your chest as König falls asleep, the arms around you relaxing just enough to allow you to breathe again. 

In the morning, you try to correct him on his strange thoughts about Sky Father. You tell him your people believe he’s fighting his enemies when it thunders, not… making love to anyone.

“Fighting or fucking,” he only shrugs. “Same noise.”

You open your mouth to explain the difference between fucking and lovemaking next, then decide it’s no use.

The weather is warm and the land is lush after the abundant rain. König takes you to a small stream and you risk to take a dip, delighted and relieved to have the opportunity for a quick wash. When you threaten to gut him when he sleeps if he takes a peek, König only laughs. Probably thinks it’s an exciting threat. Then he sits on the bank to work on a small piece of wood while you have your cold bath. He’s been carving it for a few days and has refused to show it to you, no matter how “nosy” you’ve been. It’s an unfinished piece, yes, but it still feels silly that a grown man is so secretive about a chunk of wood. You only now begin to understand that perhaps the statue of the Great Mother is not stolen. It’s not bought, and he hasn’t had it made. He carved it himself.

Shocked, you forget to keep an eye on him while you scrub and rub yourself in the stream. You never thought of him as a sculptor or even a carpenter, but apparently, some soldiers spend their leisure time in other activities than fucking and drinking and gambling.

Your hands meet the leather string of the necklace as you wash your hair, and you remember your vow. It makes your heart sink: it’s a beautiful day, the first of summer, and you have to let go of the loveliest thing König has ever given to you. You peek a glance at him: he’s looking so peaceful while carving the small figurine, with that signature smile his that always reveals itself through his eyes, warm and jovial, like he’s just a hunter or a fisherman having a break from a day of toil.

You strip yourself from the necklace and release it with a sullen breath. The spirits accept it hungrily, pulling it underwater the instant you let it go. The current carries it far away downstream, and you find your chin trembling, and not from cold. You have given your moonblood to Mother many, many times, but this gift is infinitely more valuable. Still, the most important thing is that the man you prayed for is alive and whistling happily on that bank.

And you’re not an oathbreaker… But König is. 

When you rise from the water, he steals a glance. Actually, he stares at you like you’ve particularly asked him to never rip his eyes from you. 

You pay the adoring beast no mind and rise from the stream with the pride of a queen, only to have it all robbed from you as you notice there are flowers placed there where you left your clothes. The crazy giant has actually plucked flowers for you.

It’s an odd thing to do because in your land, only children pick flowers. Usually, people give flowers to the gods. Or, mainly just to the Great Mother... It’s because She appreciates them. 

And you also notice your old dress is not where you left it.

“Where is it?” 

He extends his hands to the sides and shrugs, faking innocence so poorly that you don’t know if you want to shove or kiss him. You’re desperately trying to cover your womanhood from his searing stare – an attempt that, of course, makes your tits press together even more cutely than before. König doesn’t even know where to look when there’s so much of your sweetness on display. 

This man is so stupid and childish and simply unbelievable; hiding your dress the instant you are vulnerable and in your thoughts. You look around you, then up, and notice that he’s thrown the dress over a pine branch far above your reach. Of course.

“You’re a bully,” you turn your accusing gaze to him, hands now slowly curling into fists by your side. You’re not even angry: you’re just feeling... hot, and frustrated, and embarrassed, having to stand here in bright daylight, dripping wet and about to have another tantrum while naked. You’re starting to suspect that he probably enjoys it when you get in a pet. Maybe it makes his cock hard: to watch you stomp your foot at him, especially if you do it without clothes.

“Bully?” His eyes smile at you like he’s the son of Sky Father himself.

“It’s someone who… who tortures people,” you blurt, a bit more dramatically than you initially meant to. He bursts into laughter and laughs for a long time, either because you just called him precisely what he is or because you called him a torturer for doing a silly prank.

“Ach… Well, you are pretty,” he says after surviving something that was veritably not meant as a joke. As if you being pretty is some kind of an excuse for doing this stupid, childish stunt...

His stare sweeps over you like you’re merely property, his eyes darting between your pouty face and the glistening sex between your legs now that you’ve blessedly moved your hands out of the way. Then he notices that something’s missing, that there is no necklace resting above your breasts anymore. He takes a step and raises a hand, and for the first time ever, you wouldn’t even dream of shying away from his touch. He brushes your bare neck with a silent question and brief hurt in his eyes.

Gods, he can’t think you got rid of it because you despised it, can he...?

“The river took it,” you explain quickly and with genuine regret. It’s a lie, but you can’t tell him the real reason it’s gone. You can’t confess that you had to sacrifice it for his safe return.

“I really liked it,” you whisper while looking him straight in the eyes, stomach heavy with both lies and the horrible, sweet truth. König recuperates surprisingly fast and nods slowly, the caress rising to your cheek to console you.

“Don’t worry. I can make you a new one,” he promises stoutly, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from bursting into tears right there in front of him. “With wolf claws, if you like?”

“I don’t know… Sounds dangerous.”

“Hah. I kill my first wolf when I was fifteen.”

Your heart is bursting inside your chest – the songs of the bards never tell about someone being so goofy that you want to hug them until they stop speaking silly things. 

“I’m sure you did,” your lips quiver with a whisper of a smile. König takes in every crumb of your affection like it’s a blessing from the Mother below: his shoulders draw back everytime he senses you are appreciative of him or admire his strength. He’s even more proud when he presents the small carving he’s been working on. 

You’re now absolutely, vehemently sure that he has made the statue of the Great Mother himself. Because what you’re looking at is very similar to that statue, only far more detailed. The breasts and hips on this figurine are more proportional, and you could almost swear that the statue he just gave you is trying to depict you. It has your hair and your face, or then he has tried to capture the slightly pouting face of some other ungrateful woman. But you can’t shake the thought that you may very well be looking into your own eyes.

“For you,” he says above you, and you swallow tears for gods know how many times today. He even winks at you, incredibly playful, like this statue is now a cute little secret only you two know about.

“It’s–I didn’t know you… Uh. Thank you,” you stutter like a fool. You can’t ask if it’s you – you can’t ask a simple question because to hear his unabashed, proud answer would mean that you won’t be able to hold yourself back from kissing him.

You are starting to feel like… an idol of worship, almost. 

He lavishes you with gifts and flowers, he feeds you grapes and wine, he brings you his bloodied loot and asks you to bless his sword. He honours your purity and respects your wishes not to be touched and pilfered.

What else are you if not a goddess? 

Even the Mother in his satchel doesn’t get such fevered attention. He even carved a new statue for you. Of you.

Your senses become eagle-sharp as you realize just how much your suspicions are proving true. You think about the way he is always at your tits, as if calling forth good luck and abundance when he squeezes them every day and night. It’s almost like a ritual. Or how he tries to dress you in fine clothes, not just to show you around, but to make you feel appreciated. The way he protects and shelters you and lets you – no, demands you to – ride his horse while he exhausts himself on the road. How the selecting of the necklace now seems like a test, to prove whether you are a true goddess who favors a gift of bone and blood and amber over the pathetic shiny trinkets of men. 

And the way he hasn’t touched other women all this time; no, because he doesn’t keep other goddesses...

Just you. 

Only you.

…

He knows your tongue so well that you don’t practically need the translator anymore. König sends him away after you whisper in his ear that you don’t like him.

It’s another lie because what you really don’t like is how bothered he looks when forced into the company of you two. You don’t like the deep sighs and the weary looks he gives both you and your supposed lover who always insists that you sit on his lap even if there are other people in the tent. You don’t want to make the poor man uncomfortable, so you come up with a reason for König to send him away. It's quite apparent that you could ask for the moon and stars, and he’d figure out a way to give them to you.

When you ask him why, for the love of all the gods, does he even want to keep a Roman slave, he says it amuses him. You always thought it was an odd thing to do because you’ve never seen König spend time with his soldiers. He never gambles with them, never eats with them, never hunts with them. By separating himself from them he keeps up an illusion of himself as a walking, fighting myth who has forced half the world to its knees, and whose quirks are to keep a Roman slave and, now, a foreign fairy in his tent.

You start to understand that it's because he doesn’t feel like he belongs.

He doesn’t even want to belong. He doesn't make an effort to be a Roman even if, legally, you suppose he’s a citizen or at least a free man. You wonder if it’s his only weakness: being so different from everybody else. 

You walk in and out of camp like a free woman with him. To the forest, to the stream, and one day, to the ocean, not too far from where you used to gather clams. If you walked the shoreline long enough, you would end up near your old village.

You spend your entire day there, collecting pink and white shells, giggling as König takes a dip in the shivering sea. He even throws the hood away before walking into the foaming waves. You have to hold your breath as he comes out because his face is the complete opposite of what you thought you would see. He has stern features and some prominent scars above his lip and crossing the bridge of his nose; there’s one above the left eye, and his nose has been broken at least two times. He looks mean and dangerous and suffering, it’s true, but you’re not scared at all. In fact, your embarrassingly wet while he furrows his brows and looks down at his feet, otherwise proud and happy in his skin but now suddenly concerned that you might not like what you see.

“Ugly?” He asks bluntly, with such distanced but sharp pain that your breath leaves you entirely. The vision of him might have frightened you on the first night, it’s true, but now, you only think he’s handsome. In a crude way, perhaps... But still handsome.

“No,” you shake your head slowly, never taking your eyes off him. König takes in air as if he has been granted a pardon from a horrible crime, and your heart hurts – is this the reason he has clung to that hood? To conceal some old scars and to appear more menacing to friends and enemies?

He’s stronger than ever as he walks to you, unclothed and smelling of seabreeze and salt, like he was just born from there, sired by the ocean and the wind. You ought to pray to Mother but you know it will do you no good. It’s a rotten joke to want a man who has massacred your people, the ones you used to call friend and neighbour and kin. You feel like you’re betraying the memory of your whole village by wanting to sleep with the enemy. The enemy who worships you; who looks at you like you’re a goddess when you lean back to watch the night sky come alive with indigo and stars. The enemy who teaches you their names in his own tongue...

He points you to the Head of the Serpent and the Smith’s Street, then to the Nail that holds the sky in place. You have your own names for the stars but you like it when he introduces them to you, clumsy and excited. When he shows you the long cock of the hero your people call Hunter, your cheeks heat up. You try to repeat the name in his tongue (whatever lewd, brash northern hero it may be), and it makes him happier than ever to hear you speak his words.

“König,” you ask him when he's shown you all the stars he knows. “Why do you fight…?”

He turns to look at you, perplexed, and you word the question differently.

“What do you want?”

“...What do I want?”

“Yes. In this life.”

His brows furrow as he starts to think, and your love for him only grows. Has no one ever asked him that before? Has he ever even given it a thought...? 

He grabs a handful of grass and rips it from the ground, absentmindedly and deep in thought. He fiddles with it for a while, then throws it away, looking somewhere to the distant, generous sea.

“I want…children,” he says. “I want a home.”

König turns to look at you, so stern that it forces you take support from the earth beneath you.

“Home. Richtig?”

“Yes,” you whisper, “A–a home.”

But it can’t be...

It can’t.

It’s simply too crazy that the brutal, callous giant has been searching for a home all along. That the man who cuts off heads and spits out the flesh of his enemies is simply someone who has lost his home and has yearned back ever since. It’s too wild a thought that the Titan wants to raise a family and have many children.

“Don’t you have a home somewhere in Rome…?” 

“It’s only a house.”

He fidgets with more grass, then turns back to you again with honest curiosity.

“Do you want children?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Fee. You would be a good mother,” he determines right then and there, saying it so casually that you have no choice but to believe it. You want to change the topic, and quickly, now tugging at the grass yourself because you're feeling shy.

“König… What is Fee?” 

“Fee is… They are small women? Live in trees. Or flowers. Or everywhere,” he gestures vaguely all around you.

“You mean fairies,” you whisper, and he shrugs. If you say so. But you know you're talking about the same thing: curious little earth spirits, lively and wild. 

Your heart is burning; it’s scorching until there’s nothing left but sweet molten gold. Usually, this kind of burning has stirred in your chest when some old crone has told a good story at the fire during the turn of the year. Usually, you’ve felt this kind of thrill when you’ve heard the piper play for the forest during springtime, lulling the devious spirits back to the trees so that they wouldn’t enter lambs and goats and make them sick. You’ve only felt so alive when you’ve walked at the beach during midsummer with a desperate aching between your legs because you’ve felt so alone and yet so, so alive.

“They said you were a Titan,” you whisper, another hushed question on this night of nights. You feel like you’re having a conversation of the ages, even if it’s clumsy and plain. The night sky is blooming with stars, the sea is whispering its secrets, and there are so many unsaid things between you two, finally washing up on the shore. König is ripping out more tall grass, but only because he’s searching for the right words.

“No. No titan. Just king,” he shakes his head as if sorry that he has to disappoint you. “I was the king’s son. Before Rome came…”

He’s suffered the same fate as you then, a long, long time ago. You wonder where his people are now or if they are even alive anymore, if he is the last giant standing, the last remaining man of his folk from the mountains. If the ruins of his proud house have already turned to dirt and dust and soil, if his father’s head was left to rot on a Roman spear, his riches and wealth taken back to Rome as spoils and exchanged for wine and whores and slaves.

You can only imagine the fury and despair when a tall boy’s future and dreams crumbled into dust, to blood and tears and screams, to a tale that no one ever told.

“You’d make a great king,” you say, meaning it with all your heart. His whole face lights up with a smile; the sorrow is still present in his eyes, and you know the depth of its roots now. But the Romans never managed to kill his will to live.

“If I was king… I would choose you for my queen,” he says softly, and you thank the wind for drying an escapee tear that rolls out. Fate is shaking your ribcage like a rattle; the wind steals your tears like they’re a long-withheld gift.

He tells you his tale under the safety of the vast starry sky. It's only bits and pieces, but you understand enough from his clumsy words.

He tells you how he was brought to Rome as a slave, sold to the pits and how he rose to manhood and fame there. He fought in the great arenas you’ve heard so many gruesome tales about; he fought until he could buy his freedom. He forgot his people, his revenge, that he was a king. Not knowing what else to do, he took up arms again and became the thing he hated the most: a Roman soldier. 

He tells you about a woman who can see things that have not yet happened. He asked this seer if there was anything else for him in this life but death; he would give any offering that was needed if only he could find more life instead. He had already given money and offerings to all the fertility goddesses of Rome, to no avail. He had carved a statue of Venus to attract love, but it didn’t work. So many times he had wanted to throw it in the sea. Until the woman who sees told him he would find what he was looking for in his next campaign. When he promised he’d come back to kill her if she lied, the old crone had only laughed at him. 

The next day, he was discharged from his old unit and separated from those who spoke the same language as him. Everyone was afraid of an uprising that would have a giant at its head, so he was offered money and whores, even a position in politics, and lastly, a place in an elite unit with a better wage. They told him the troops were about to leave for the harsh frontier: a new campaign to bring glory to Rome. He chose the latter option immediately.

He turns to look at you. Bloodless, thin-lipped, shivering you.

“She said you would be pretty. Like a fairy.”

You hear the distant rumbling of the sea, endlessly soft. You feel the wind suddenly passing through the field, filling the cloak of a northern king who came all this way just for you. Even the stars are waiting for your next move. 

“I…” you start, already breathless. “The necklace… König, I’m so sorry. I had to give it to Mother.”

“Mother?”

“To the gods. So that you wouldn’t die in battle.”

Realization dawns on his face, driving away all doubt and confusion. He’s just as pleased as the day he gave you all those gifts, if not even more so.

“You make sacrifice for me?”

“Yes,” you whisper. You can’t help it: a sob wrenches out of your chest as the first tears fall. “I’m sorry. I really liked it... I’m so sorry–”

König rises immediately, only to come to you and fall to a crouch. He draws you against his chest, your weeping face soon held right against his heart.

“Never say sorry,” he kisses your head, over and over again. “Never say sorry…”

The wind surrounds you both, soft and warm, as he rocks you back and forth. You hug him with all the strength a little fairy can muster, then raise your chin to look at him. You’re probably the most pathetic creature he has ever seen – you could swear there is no woman alive feeling as weak as you feel now. König cups your face gently, the look in his eyes that of a hunter who has finally caught up with his prey. Warm, merciful, loving.

“Fee… I can still taste you,” he says.

“I can still feel you,” you whisper back. A deer, felled. “But I don’t… I don’t like biting.”

“Biting…?” 

“Teeth.”

“Ja. I noticed.”

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You would let him bite you anywhere and everywhere now. You would actually kill for it if he only laid his mouth on you...

You laugh with leftover tears in your eyes, and your giant smiles back at you, so endearing that you feel like it’s the first day of the rest of your life.

“Do you like bath?”

…

You ease into the warm, almost too warm water with a sigh.

The slaves have had to toil the better half of the evening to heat such a large body of water, and you can’t even begin to imagine where König has gotten the pretty little clay bathtub. It’s the largest pottery you have ever seen; far too small for a giant like him but just enough for a fairy woman like you.

You wash yourself languidly, feeling like the queen of the whole wide earth. Someone has even poured some of the scented oils into the bath, and you could cry from happiness as the sweet scents envelop you. You wonder if the wife of any chieftain has ever experienced such luxury and warmth. 

König has the most pleased smile on his face when he sees how much you appreciate yet another gift of his. He pampers and spoils you so much that you threaten to turn into an overripe grape, too soft and sweet and juicy, unable to keep intact anymore. But there’s a price to be paid, apparently, as he watches you from across the tent, sitting in his chair and pulling back the tunic to reveal the the erection between his legs. It’s the biggest cock you've ever seen, and already standing tall and proud, like a soldier about to go to war.

Your lips part on their own; heat shoots between your legs so fast it knocks the breath out of you. He seems to love your attention and awe, because his cock gives a few pulls just from you staring at it. Pearl-white seed leaks out of the tip as he grabs it inside a strong fist and gives himself a few unhurried strokes. 

“König…?”

You’re breathless, but he’s not: he’s breathing heavily in that chair, powerful thighs spread wide, stroking the thick weapon between his legs while you feel like fainting in your bath.

“When will torture end?”

He's dark, dark and done with patience, and you don't know how to answer such a question. You don't even know where to look.

“Hm? You like to torture men?”

“No,” you whisper, cheeks hot and cunt ridiculously wet.

“Yes you do. A little bully, hmm?”

“König–”

“I’ll show what happens to bullies.”

He lets himself go and rises from the chair. Your mind is of no use to you now: all you can do is stare at that thing between his legs, pointing towards you like a road sign.

He walks to you, cock and gaze equally heavy, and gets rid of his tunic. Then he gestures for you to rise from the tub. You’ve spent enough time there in his opinion, and the water is indeed turning unpleasantly cool – but if you go to him now, you won’t be able to fight him. Not when you’re in such a pleased, lax, purring state. Perhaps that was the whole idea...

You rise slowly, then step out carefully, taking support from the edge of the tub and from his shoulder – and still almost collapse all over him as you try to remain on your feet. He holds you upwards while you try to avoid the murder weapon between his legs, but your giant is not as shameful as you: he grabs your butt and guides you flush against him. You meet his chest with a gasp, the length of him now trapped between you two.

“Wait, I’m—I’m still wet,” you try to peep, but it’s no use. He sweeps you off your feet, no doubt with the intention of carrying you to the bed. 

“I will lick you clean,” he looks at you like you’re already trapped, caught, and bled: such a weak little creature in his arms, trying to beg for mercy with its last dying breath. You cling to him as such, that’s for sure.

“Just... No biting. Please?” You whisper as he lays you on the bed.

“No biting,” he gives his valiant promise, accompanied with a confident flash of a smile.

Gods…

If he’d gotten rid of that stupid hood earlier, your legs would’ve been pudding. They would’ve been as far apart as the two villages east and west of here. That smile would have allowed him to infiltrate everything in between. Perhaps it’s a good thing he is not that clever… 

“Oh gods–” you gasp as he shifts down and lowers himself for worship. His breath hits you first, and the next thing you feel are his lips – still smiling – then the gods-forsaken beast gives you a kiss.

“Oh–”

There is a sudden silence following your moans, then you hear soldiers bursting into laughter outside your tent. They’re warming themselves by the campfire, no doubt, sharing stories about war and women, and now they’ve heard the first mewls of surrender from their hero’s tent, after weeks of quarrelling.

Your cheeks heat up as one of the soldiers utters a hurried sentence and mentions König’s name, after which the merry crew booms to laughter again.

Gods take the Romans and their stupid, lewd jokes...

You try to concentrate on the warmly lit burgundy ceiling as König carries on without paying any attention to what’s happening outside. They could march into the tent and try their best to rip him off your cunt, but you doubt if they would get him to move an inch. He's simply that drunk on your taste.

You wonder if his chin is already covered in your juices because his kisses are open-mouthed and hungry – he even tries to push his tongue inside you. The man has absolutely no shame when he's buried down there, groaning with approval as you roll your hips. You're rutting his face as shyly as you possibly can, and it makes him purr and rumble with bliss. The noise he makes is enough to make you sing too, so filthy that it earns you a whistle from outside.

Shit... They probably think he's fucking and hurting you with his cock – a scary prospect, yes, but you'll have to cross that bridge when you get there – and they couldn't be more wrong. If they only knew what their champion is doing to his slave, lapping and sucking his disobedient woman like a starved dog...

“You like mouth?”

It’s hungry, so dark, the way he asks if you like what he’s doing to you. It’s not the mad lust of a drunken man from a few nights ago; it’s sober, fierce greed with a clear purpose behind it. Your fingers find his hair and tug at it weakly, not to cheer him on, but to take support from something relatively stable. 

“Yes… Yes, just–"

“Gut,” he grins into your folds, coarse stubble scraping you deliciously raw. “I like this too. After I lick you enough, I will fuck you.”

Your fingers curl around his hair, giving him another involuntary tug.

Gods, make him stop talking... Just tie his tongue or something, make him shut up.

Please…

“I will bully you all night with cock. I know you will like. Hm?”

He prattles more nonsense in your cunt, and you can’t hear the men outside anymore. You can’t even see the lamps. You’re in a womb of pleasure, which is funny because there’s a grown man between your legs, dragging his tongue over your slit until you're shaking and crying on the bed. Yes, if this is a womb, you never want to leave...

And he’s not eloquent; you don’t even know what he is trying to do to you. He probably doesn’t know it himself. He’s not trying to fish for cues on what you like: he just does what he feels like doing, which is everything. He tries every single thing. He’s just happy to be down there, flicking and circling his tongue over your nub until you can’t take it anymore.

You're dangerously close, and rise halfway to push his head away because it’s just too much; it’s too much pleasure in one go. He gives you a husky laugh and fights your weak attempts to make him stop, the damned bastard. You’re too frail to resist him, and he knows too much already, repeating the torture until your hips buck up.

“Gut... Like that...?” He asks again, so eager to please that you have to stifle a sob.

“Yes... Yes, just like that,” you sigh while trying to stay in one piece.

“Guide me, little fairy,” he demands, excited like a young, hot recruit. Apparently it's no big deal for him to have his head tugged and shoved and dragged just for a woman's pleasure. It doesn't take away an ounce of his power to be your toy for a moment. Your sharp tongue has left you completely; it is you who is humbled as you guide him back to the right spot, jerking when he licks you just the way you wished.

It’s bad enough that you make a mess on his bed and moan like a paid woman, giving everyone in this camp a taste of what it sounds like when a giant bullies his fairy to the full. But can’t he keep his stupid, lovable mouth shut...

He’s making so much noise that you can both feel and hear him. His moans are hoarse, needy and deprived; they echo somewhere in your core, somewhere inside your most sensitive, aching place, just before he finds it, the right spot, and pushes his tongue inside you.

“Wait…” you gasp, convulsing on the bed now. What the hell does he think he’s—

“Wait—I’m…”

And then you cum, right into his mouth, with an arched back and quivering thighs, with such lewd sounds shooting out of your mouth that complete silence follows outside.

Whatever those soldiers had thought to happen here tonight, they clearly didn't expect to hear that… Nor the cries that follow, so nasty and wanton that König doesn't withdraw, not before you have clenched and cried your fill. He enjoys your peak to the last tremble, but you barely get to catch your breath before he leaves you. He doesn’t even give you a chance to caress his head as thanks for what he just did to you.

His mouth leaves you empty and cold as he rises, watching you like you're his best conquest. His cock is so hard it juts out, immovable like a rock and so intimidating that you stop breathing for a moment.

And he doesn't allow your breathless, shocked state go to waste: he grabs that horse cock and sets it on your flush, soaked lips, and pushes the head inside. More than just the head inside.

“Oh gods, oh fuck–”

Your legs are completely useless, falling to the side as he eases himself into you. He looks at you curiously, tilting his head when he hears you curse for the first time in his presence. More than just amused, he goes deeper still, delighted that he made you say a naughty word with his cock.

You can feel the stretch; you can feel every ridge, every vein, all his thickness filling you with purpose. You can do nothing but flutter your eyes as he takes you, finally, as his own.

And it must be some cruel joke of both Mother Earth and Father Sky that it prolongs whatever bliss he just gave you with his mouth. Your body won't stop having its pleasure; it welcomes him with a string of helpless whimpers. Even your cunt starts to squeeze him like it's the best thing in this world.

And he sees it. He feels it.

“Ja, little one. Time to fuck.”

He continues his journey inside, one massive palm landing on each side of your head as he leans over you.

“Einfach so… Trust me. Hmm?”

You only nod, completely silent and tame, waiting for him to give you more gifts. Mother knows this man is your downfall: your heart and soul are about to burst into flame when you look at him. You want him with your whole being; you want his love and praise so much you could cry.

“You want cock?”

“Yes,” you look up at him, eyes surely shining like stars. “Yes, yes, yes–”

“I will give you. Don’t worry.”

You sob as he withdraws, pulling the long, delicious cock almost completely out. He returns immediately when you whine from the loss. He feels so good, and so, so big… Fulfilling you entirely, every bit of you that was hollow and empty, every little space that needed loving is now his and filled with love.

“Verdammte… Götter, du bist zu eng,” he huffs and looks down as if to check if it’s true that he’s finally inside you. It could never fit in fully; you both probably knew that. But he’s trying his best.

“What does that mean?” You pant, impatient that he stopped moving.

“Too small... For me...” he laments. Or brags.

“Any woman is too small for you,” you mope underneath him, thinking about whether he has had women who have been able to take him fully in. Women who haven’t been “too small”.

König raises his eyes to you and smiles, revealing a row of white teeth, the scarred lip making his grin look pure and sweet even if he is a menacing man.

Stupid mountain giant… He's just proud of not being able to fit inside you. Your lower lip juts out with a pout, and the cock inside you responds immediately with a pulse. You can feel it — he's fucking excited about you getting angry at him again.

There is a flash of mischief in his eyes – darned bastard – just before he swoops down to attack your neck. Your tits get crushed under a solid chest as he nuzzles close to your ear and gives you lots of love and little bites. He starts to fuck you slowly, and there's nowhere you can escape now, nowhere you can flee his mouth or teeth or cock.

“König, you promised–”

“Aber… You are more tight this way?” 

The breathless laugh that follows leaves you blinking. Of course he can feel the way you tighten around him every time he gives you a little bite.

“Gods, I hate you…” you whisper on his shoulder, thinking about biting him there in return. König laughs in your neck again – your threats of hate have long past lost their intimidating nature and are more like love confessions to him now. And perhaps that’s what they are.

He makes love to you hard and good, and it’s embarrassing, how you're about to cum again around his cock. You were supposed to have your revenge by showing him you have teeth too, but find yourself biting your lip instead, trying to tone down at least some of the filthy sounds that try to escape you.

He's not too rough, at least not yet, happy with listening to the poorly stifled whimpers that follow his every thrust. You thought he'd rail you like an animal, but he seems to settle for making love to you while biting and groping you all over. He savours every thrust like he savoured those grapes you fed him: slowly and intently, with passion instead of greed.

You're squeezing him with everything you have as he rocks you back to the edge. His grunting only make it all worse: he doesn't even try to be quiet and decent, and it's driving you to madness. Why does he have to be so noisy? Why does he have to fuck you so that everyone can hear just how good you feel?

Every soldier in this camp can hear both your moans, his hoarse ones and your weak ones, merging together until you do sound like animals in heat... You’re so wet that some of the men must hear the music of that, too. You never knew your cunt would be so hungry and needy, least of all for a man like him. You grip him as the waves approach, rich moans turning into pathetic little cries as his cock works you open.

“Again…?” He smiles a surprised laugh on your neck. The waves hit you before you can tell him to shut up.

The noise you make is even more obscene this time, and you barely catch a glimpse of his drowsy, victorious stare before your head falls back. You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to take in the most powerful orgasm and the most powerful cock of your life without having to see that stupid, happy face of your lovesick giant.

“Nein,” he grabs your jaw inside a huge but gentle hand. “Eyes open.”

He won't even let you cum in peace, but you do as you’re told, finding him watching you like a stormcloud or a god. He watches your every tremble, every whimper, every sigh. He sees the full-blown love in your eyes, and you wonder… Is this what the bards sing about in their stupid songs? 

…Weakness?

Because your heart hurts and your eyes sting, your thighs tremble and your cunt is far too wet and open for him to plough. If this is love, it hurts; it burns far too sweet. It leaves you utterly weak.

“Little one is needy,” he comments softly on your second downfall.

“You’re the one who’s needy–”

Your already weak argument ends in a gasp as he reminds you who you belong to with another good, deep thrust.

“I will put a child in you,” he rumbles, a threat or a promise. “If we do this every night… You will have my child.”

“Then let’s do this every night,” you whisper beneath him, your own purr of a threat. As if you didn’t know how babies were made… To your silent joy, König stops to catch his breath or your words; you’re not entirely sure which. You decide to up the stakes, just to make him fall with you.

“And every morning too?”

“Ach, du kleine–” he crumbles, voice turning to dust from your innocent suggestion.

If you thought he was a little too in love with you before, the look on his face now is worth all the gold in the world. You could swear that your kind question is the sole reason for this man cumming on the spot. Perhaps your body is to blame for it too; he couldn't keep his paws off when you were being sulky and difficult, so how could he take it when you're pleased and loving and all puffed up?

You see the brief flash of vulnerability, the mortal fragility in his eyes just before he shoots his load with a painful-sounding groan. The sound that leaves him is a mixture of desperation and release – even giants can cry, you think as you watch how beautifully he comes undone. He makes sure his seed is sent deep inside you by burying his cock into you, as far as it can go; the intention behind it is so clear that you wouldn't be surprised if you got heavy with a child after this first time.

He falls on top of you after, drained and spent and body heaving from exertion. There’s no other sound in the night but the satisfied panting of you two: the soldiers outside are rendered silent by the sounds of true lovemaking, even the wind spirits are hushed tonight.

You’re completely filled, and with his cock still inside you, he’s preventing any precious seed from escaping. You’re only glad he’s too weak to move because you’d happily keep him here forever, inside and on top of you like this.

“You are pleased…?” He turns his head a little, sounding worried enough to make you hug him tight.

“Yes. Very much,” you whisper, and he moves to rise and look you in the eyes. 

“Gut.”

It’s cute to be nose to nose like this with him, eyes locked together, lips only a hair’s breadth apart. He looks so intoxicated and happy without even being drunk that you break into a small laugh, eyes brimming with happy tears, the washing away of relief. He smiles too, then laughs with you.

The soldiers outside might think it an odd business: to make a woman moan and laugh with a cock. You were brought to this tent screaming, and he made you scream again, just not the way they thought.

The sound of your mutual laughter rises in the tent, up towards the heavens, surely making even the Sky Father smile above.

…

You do it every night, and every morning, too.

Sometimes, you do it during the day after bathing in the stream. After washing and playing in the water, you rush to the shore together, but König is always faster than you. He throws your dress away or holds it up above his head, far from your reach, smiling like the most innocent man in the world. He's far from innocent, though: his cock hangs heavy between his legs, swelling just from seeing you angry and flustered and wet. 

“Bully,” you accuse, utterly in love and out of breath, earning you another attack of a love-hungry giant. You forget the dress when he kneels on the grass, kisses your stomach and your thighs, keeps you in place for his mouth with two strong arms and a love that turns your whole body weak. 

“Pretty,” is the only thing he breathes as an answer before he scoops up your leg and spreads you open for his mouth.

Your head rolls back with a choked sigh, the drops on your skin dry on their own. Somehow, you end up on the grass with his mouth glued on you. The sun plays in your hair; it dances on your face as he gives you more and more until you know, you just know that if you do this every night and morning and day, you will definitely have his child.

He tells you his real name, his true name, the one his mother gave him. You moan it in his ear just before you cum around his length. Sometimes, it makes him purr; other times, it makes him grunt. Once, you hear a soft, pitched whine. 

He’s more rough when you’re on your knees. You’re shy and wet when he commands you to prop yourself on your elbows and show him your cunt. He licks you from front to back, feasts on you until your breaths turn to shivers. You squeeze your eyes shut from how obscene the scene must look; you hope to all the gods the Roman slave won’t come to ask his travel guides back when König finally rises and takes a wide stance behind you. He sets himself on your opening and pushes in, fat and greedy. 

You can only whimper as he starts the thrusts, starved and slow, picking up the pace and holding you in place by the hips when you approach the brink of another collapse. You fear you will lose your mind if he keeps doing this to you every day. The only thing you hear are the breathless, warm grunts of encouragement behind you.

“You can take it. You can take it. Already took it, little one…”

He won’t stop, not even as you cry out loud, the cock hitting you in places that make your legs nearly give in. He won’t stop even as tears brim, not even as you start to sound like a tortured animal; no, he just tightens his grip on your waist and pounds you harder. You cum with a moan that would make Roman whores blush, but your lover doesn’t mind at all. He cums right after you, with a roar that could raise the reverend dead from their mounds.

Afterwards, he’s gentle again. He gathers you in his arms like his most valuable possession, caressing and breathing you in, giving you a soft kiss behind your ear.

“You’re... mean,” you try to remember how to breathe as he gives you more of those hungry kisses. You already know he likes it when you’re so spent you don’t have the strength to squirm or fight him.

“Ja. And you become more nice when I bully you,” he whispers in your ear. “More calm… Less difficult.”

“Well, you don’t,” you turn inside his hold, eyes shining brighter than the stars or even the sun. “Crazy man…”

“You have robbed me of my sword and shield, it’s true. Robbed my heart too. Little thief.”

“Thief? You’re the one who stole me…!”

“And I’ll never let you go.”

You wriggle a hand to cup his face, meeting his eyes with such helplessness that it’s not even funny anymore. If he’s joking or playing with you now, you’ll kill him with his own swords.

“You promise?”

“I make a vow,” he declares ceremoniously, with a hand on his heart. But you doubt that he’s playing any games; you wonder if this man is even capable of lying or deception. You hug him so tight that he has to let out a grunt – surprised and pleased – after which you have to bury your face in his neck so that he won't see your tears.

“I am in love with you, Fee,” he whispers in your ear while caressing your hair, ever poetic for such a simple man. “Tell me. Do you like me too…?”

“Yes,” you breathe a half-cry, half-laugh in his neck. “Yes, you crazy giant. I like you too.”

You rise just enough to kiss him. It’s hungry and delivers everything you can’t say. You can’t tell him you love him; you simply can’t. You’re not ready for the painful happiness it would bring forth. He stabs you full of it anyway.

“I will never let you go. Never. Not when I finally found you, little one...”

…

Summer comes.

The camp moves lazily to its next destination, but when the next battle comes, König refuses to fight. 

His soldiers blame you, of course. You have bewitched him with your softness, making him soft and spineless as well. It is unheard of that a warrior like him would fall like this: out of some woman’s underhanded spell rather than dying gloriously in the field by a barbarian blade or two. Even poison is considered better than this.

No one understands that there is no hex. The war is still being fought, this time inside his soul. It’s not just you preventing him from taking up arms; it’s something else, something old and deep-rooted you've managed to stir in him. Something ferocious, something that has been asleep for a long time, something that is far from all things soft.

You two sneak out from the camp after the bulk of the army has marched away. He takes you to the seaside again, to a wild, roaring shore. You laugh and bask in the sun, swim in the sea and eat the first berries of the season. You lie on the tall grass, naked as the day you were born: it's simply too hot to wear anything except your glowing skin. König starts to ask you peculiar questions while tracing the soft line of your spine. 

He asks what kind of house you would like to live in, and tries to find out in a roundabout way if you would like to live in a forest or in the hills. You treasure the sound of waves, and König likes the sound of the wind in trees, but you both love steep hills and the open view of plains. You get the idea that he may want to retire somewhere in the near future. 

He tells you he is not a good fisherman but can hunt everything that moves. He is good with a spear, with traps and the bow, and he’s tired of hunting humans who only wish to live in peace. The arena he could understand, but the war on foreign lands, not. And if you begin to swell with his offspring, the Roman encampment at war is the last place for a sweet little fairy like you. He asks what kind of village you used to live in and is somewhat sad to hear all the things you tell him. He says it sounds like home, the one he was taken from many years ago. 

When you return to the camp, it’s like you two are a different species altogether, two wild animals who sneak from the gates back to the flock, back to being human, back to being caged and tamed and stunted. The grumpy, tired soldiers witness your wildness and happiness with sullen distaste. To them, your appetite for freedom is the filthiest, most treacherous thing in the world. 

The commander of the troops summons König at his feet and threatens to flog him if he ever skips a battle again. He’s told that only barbarians ignore orders like this: at the turn of a whim or a woman or wind. If he doesn’t remember who he is, not the reckless murderer of his youth but a man reborn, a noble Roman citizen, he will risk descending into apathy and greed again. Was this the case, Rome will guide him back to fold again by the crack of a whip if it has to.

That night, you tell him that you love him. Wherever he goes, you will go. That night, when you’re lying in his arms, sweaty and spent and thoroughly happy, he speaks words so wild it shakes the whole tent with a wind.

“If I kill the soldiers, will you come with me?”

It’s only a mutter, a murmured, careful whisper, but it makes you rise to sit and place a hand on his chest for extra support.

“Kill the soldiers? You mean… Kill the Romans?”

“Ja. All of them.”

The shock quickly makes way to disbelief. Can such a thing even be done? He’s a giant, but he’s still just one man. But König doesn’t look restless at all; he looks like a man who has finally made a decision he should have made years ago. He looks like someone who is at peace with their soul.

"Where would we go?" You whisper weakly, unsure if he has given this enough thought or thought at all. It’s now the wanderer in him who speaks, the adventurer who fears nothing because he has already lost everything – and found the most precious, essential thing. 

You. Himself…

Free will.

“Wherever you want.”

“What if you get killed…?”

“You take treasure and horse and go.”

…

Your mother always said that it's useless to sway a man if he has chosen to stand up and fight. She told you that the best you could do is go grab a sword and join him.

That is why you give him your blessing – your full, ardent blessing.

It makes him stronger than ever: were he to go out there with nothing but his skin, he would be victorious. The oak that hears your magnificent spell shivers from fear above you as you call down earth, fire and wind. 

You call the spirits from below to guide his feet and make them swift and silent as a feather in the wind. You call down the lightning from the sky to accompany his sword as he deals his blows. You cloak him with the fury of the dead; they will smite down his enemies when they catch even a glimpse of him. You shroud him with the Mother's blessing so that he will be untouchable, unstoppable, invincible as he deals death among the Romans.

It’s a terrible spell; even the moon withdraws into a cloud when She hears it. Not even the lady of silver twilight dares to reveal this giant to the Romans as he’s about to descend upon them.

He rises with the power of fifteen men and gives you a kiss that nearly topples you. He smiles before he leaves you, and never looks back as he goes to do the deed of a legend.

You watch the massacre up from a hill. A safe distance from the camp, but close enough to see how König destroys a whole cohort by himself. The plant you mixed into the “reconciliation wine” he gave his soldiers and the commander before nightfall makes it laughably easy because most of the men are still half asleep when they burn inside their tents. The oil spilt on the dry dirt and linen roars aflame now with the help of the wind and earth spirits as König torches the camp. The occasional few soldiers that rise to meet him with fear in their stare are already broken by your spell before his swords impale them. 

The old translator is the only Roman who wasn’t given a cup of foxglove wine because he was König’s slave, and now he can see that he is blessed among men. The God of War faces him with swords pointing to the ground, fury planting his feet wide, and it takes the old Roman a while to understand that he’s the only man who gets to walk out of this camp unharmed. As grumpy and unsociable as he is, you wish him good fortune on his future journeys, even utter a quick protection spell to shroud him as he leaves towards his destiny on enemy land.

The slave women, sober, confused, and free, run amock to gather weapons, cloaks, food, and valuables before escaping the camp. König doesn’t even notice them, and they pay little mind to the enraged god ramming through puny mortals because they’re too busy getting out of the burning castra.

How fitting it is that the only people escaping the hellfire are a few beaten women and an old, weak-calved Roman – every able-bodied soldier burns inside his tent or meets their end at your lover’s blade.

The wind spirits help spread the fire so eagerly that you begin to fear that König won’t make it out in time. You whisper prayers into your fist, curled around the Mother who has already given you so much. She has also taken away everything; like seasons, she has reaped and sown, but if she reaps your lover now, you will walk into the sea.

Mother is merciful and returns him to you, unharmed and glorious. He's the same ferocious beast you saw half a moon ago, and also the same ferocious man who was inside you this very morning. You see a god of war, and he sees the mother of life and death, perhaps, because his first words to you are a ripe offering.

“I avenged them all,” he says when he reaches you, thrumming with victory and smelling of smoke and ruin and blood.

He has been born again; he has walked to a new dawn through fire and death and returns to your arms like you two have known each other since the beginning of time. You’re not sure if he talks about his fallen ones or your fallen ones, or everyone who has fallen to these particular Roman spears. You’re not sure if this is his downfall because what you’re looking at is only the downfall of the Roman campaign on your lands. You and König are very much wild and spirited and free. If this is a downfall, it feels like being lifted towards the sky. You see in his eyes that he feels the same as you.

The whole world is new as you leave towards a new life. Sun rises, and takes years off your backs. You wash him in the sea and kiss the salt away from his lips, and it feels only right that he takes you on the grass after slaughtering your enemies.

You bury the statues and the bronze sword in your old village, long abandoned and thoroughly looted. The old woman is in her hut, dead as a stone, and she finally looks happy, with a calm little smile on her face and flowers in her hand. She looks like a young girl, almost, ready to meet the spring of her life.

"Ready for adventure, little one?" König smiles as he raises you to his horse. He takes direction from the sun while you look down at his happy, golden form – your god, your life, your love. 

Your new beginning.

...

Translations:

Richtig? - Right?/Correct?

Einfach so - Just like that

Verdammte… Götter, du bist zu eng - Damn… Gods, you are tight

Aber… - But…

Ach du kleine… - Oh you little…

Scheisse - Shit/Fuck

[literaila]

the waiter

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: 

"the waiter was flirting with you"  

"what?"

"he couldn't stop staring at you. i thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head." 

warnings: pure fluff, baby. 

"hey," peter whispers to you, a bit urgently. 

you don't look up from your menu, thinking fanciful thoughts of bankrupting peter. "hmm?" 

"we have to go." 

you look up, frowning. 

peter's got an urgent look on his face. his frown matches yours. 

if he didn't look so disturbed you might take the moment to appreciate the shirt he's wearing, sleeves rolled up past his forearm. you might even stare a little bit. 

but peter is frowning. and there is something wrong. 

"what?" you ask him, looking around. "what's going on?" 

"we have to leave." 

peter does not elaborate any further, because why would he? 

"okay..." you drawl, blinking at him. "why?" 

you look out the window to your left for any incoming disasters. if there was a possibility that anyone in this restaurant were to get hurt, you're sure peter wouldn't be just sitting there, waiting to have a conversation about death. 

but there's no monster outside. no robberies. no impending doom that he might need to tend to. 

your brow furrows even deeper. you stare at him, expectant. 

"the waiter was flirting with you," peter mutters, casting a glance toward the man on the other side of the restaurant. 

the man who you thought was perfectly pleasant, thank you very much. 

"what?" 

"he couldn't stop staring at you. i thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head." 

you snort, a bit confused. "peter," you say, a strange sort of smile on your face. "what?" 

"if i have to watch him drool all over you again, i might spontaneously combust."  

you close your menu, staring at him. 

"i'm serious, babe, we have to go." 

"we already ordered bread. and drinks." 

"i'll pay triple however much that cost. the waiter gets no tip," peter furrows his brows, considering. "okay, fine. he gets fifteen percent." 

"how chivalrous." 

"baby," peter whines, like a child. you might find it a little bit cute. "please? i'm having a hard enough time already." 

"what?" you frown. "why?" 

he blinks at you. does a slow up and down your body, raising his eyebrows. 

you think back to hands that had lingered on every inch of skin they could find on the way there. about eyes that could've burned you to the core. 

"oh," you cross your arms, self-conscious. "i thought you were kidding earlier when you said that--" 

peter stares at you blankly. 

"okay. not kidding."

his head drops down to the table, and if not for his muffled voice you might hear him groan. 

"leaf pile," you coo, softly. "i think it'll be alright. i'll even hold your hand when he comes back over." 

peter does not budge at the nickname, but you snicker internally, reaching a hand out to mess up his hair. 

he sits up, fixing it with a frown--as if it's at all salvageable. 

"is this what we've come to?" peter asks you, shaking his head. "you have to bribe me with affection? you only want to hold my hand to turn away the poor waiter--" 

"it's always been like this." 

peter points a finger at you. "not true." 

you scoff. "on our first date you tried to get me to stay up all night so we could watch the sunset--" 

"--that would've been romantic." 

"--and i had to bribe you with a goodnight kiss. just so you would let me go home." 

peter smiles like he's still pleased with himself. "you didn't want to leave. i was trying to help." 

"you just wanted to make out on the subway." 

"that's disgusting," peter says, looking away from you finally. his menu is still open, on the table, waiting to be looked at. "we could go to the diner across from your apartment."

"we went there last week." 

"great service," peter says, nonchalantly. 

"this is supposed to be a fancy date, peter." 

"what's fancier than sharing a milkshake?" 

"crème brûlée." 

peter purses his lips, a hand going to scratch at his lips. there are about ten seconds of silence. 

you use it to stare at him and wonder how he could possibly feel intimidated by anyone else. 

"fine," peter says, "we'll order dessert to go. and then we'll go get pizza." 

you open your mouth. close it. 

"you like pizza," peter reassures you. 

"i also like having a nice dinner with my boyfriend." 

"that can be arranged." 

you sigh. "even if we order dessert to go, we'll still have to talk to david again." 

peter gawks at you. "you know his name?" 

"he literally introduced himself. it was the first thing he said." 

"you remembered his name?" 

you wave a hand. "peter. you don't need to be jealous. maybe he just saw something on my face." 

peter sits back and crosses his arms. he raises an eyebrow at you, to which you smile back innocently. 

he says i know what you're doing without the words. 

"there's nothing on your face," peter says, dryly. "besides pure perfection." 

you giggle. 

peter runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "you're right," he relents, sighing. 

"it's okay, baby, like i said--" 

"it doesn't matter where we go," peter interrupts. "everyone's going to stare at you anyway." 

"...not where i was going with that." 

"i guess i just need to accept reality." 

"i don't think--" 

"i mean," peter finally looks you right in the eye, a hint of a smile playing on his face. "how lucky am i?" 

your face goes blank, for just a moment. 

and then, completely despite yourself, you smile at him, skin tingling at the intensity of his stare. 

of his teasing and gentle laughter as he smiles back. 

and, really, it's not your fault that you have to lean across the table to kiss him. 

he's just so goddamn irresistible. 

after a couple of seconds--and an ahem from the table beside you--you sit back down, opening your menu once again. you smile while you try and decide what to eat. 

and try to come up with the perfect way to get peter back for all of that. you've gotten as far as thanking the waiter profusely when he comes back. 

it's only a minute later when he whispers to you: 

"can i at least order the most complicated thing on the menu just to mess with him?" 

*

my masterlist here.

tags: @moonlarking-blog​​ @v1ci0us​​ @preciousbabypeter​​ @alexxavicry​​ @directioner5life​​ @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah​​ @localrockstargf​​  

[buddierecs]

fluff buddie fics.

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

cinnamon kisses by: tawaifeddiediaz "buck wakes up from a nap, cuddles eddie, proposes, and devours cinnamon rolls, in that very order." word count: 3.5k important tags: sleepy cuddles, getting together, first kiss, soft buddie, friends to fiance. if i loved you less by: spaceprincessem "buck can't use his phone for two days. eddie sends him text anyways" word count: 1.9k important tags: soft boys in love, getting together, love confessions, text messages

got me feeling like it's all gonna be okay by: wafflesofdoom "eddie struggles to voice his want for physical affection to buck as their relationship turns romantic, and buck helps him embrace his clinginess again." word count: 8.3k important tags: established relationship, light angst, ptsd lucky just to linger in your light by: hattalove "in which eddie accidentally waxes poetic about buck to the new york times." word count: 4.9k important tags: getting together, pining!eddie diaz, gay disaster!eddie diaz

the ordeal of dating your captain's (adopted) son by: polish_amber "or, the au where miscommunication abounds as eddie seeks advice about his new relationship, bobby despairs over his adopted son's career prospects and his refusal to talk about it, and evan buckley-nash juggles training at the fire academy, building a family with his new boyfriend, and trying to work out how to tell his overprotective dad that he's already chosen the life he wants, actually. It takes a goddamn tsunami, of all things, to get the story straight." word count: 60k important tags: miscommunication, firehouse 118 crew as family, bobby nash is evan buckley's parent, light angst, protective!bobby nash, developing relationship those two firefighters by: darkfairytale "#thosetwofirefighters starts to gather a following on social media, as everyone tries to figure out if those two cute firefighters from the 118 in LA are a thing or not." word count: 64k important tags: crack treated seriously, oblivious!buddie, internet, social media, slow burn

and here, too, am i by: daisies_and_briars "six months into their marriage, eddie is still struggling to decide whether or not he wants more kids, when he knows buck does. The universe may not scream, but it certainly talks." word count: 41k important tags: established relationship, married!buddie, parenthood, very soft i got all my sisters with me by: ipretendtovesane "eddie's sister has a baby, buck meets the diaz girls, and they're sickeningly in love for nearly seven thousand words" word count: 6.7k important tags: meet the family, established relationship, christopher diaz has two dads a discovery of boxer briefs by: princessfbi "he had to be dreaming, right? or maybe just in heaven and painfully aware of the warm fluttery feelings in his chest that were making him dizzy. because there, in eddie’s kitchen, was buck in a pair of socks with one pooling down his ankle like the elastic had been overstretched, an oversized hoodie, and a pair of grey briefs and it shouldn’t be the thing that made eddie’s head spin but it was." word count: 3.6k important tags: lazy mornings, cuddling, soft!buddie, sharing clothes, morning kisses

i'm cold but you light the fire within me by: beulaugh "buck shows up for career day at eddie's school, and both of them struggle to rein in their attraction." word count: 22k important tags: different first meetings au, teacher!eddie, first kiss, careers day it's golden, like daylight by: rarakiplin “hmm,” buck hums, and eddie feels the vibration of it under his mouth. buck’s nose nudges against the side of his head. “have you thought about that?” eddie laughs against buck’s shoulder, unwilling to lift his head. “thinking? right now?" “shut up,” fingers dig into his ribs, “i mean, would you want to? be married again?" word count: 8.7k important tags: secret relationship, weddings, first dates, getting together i'm someone you maybe might love by: allyasavedtheday "five times someone realises buck is in love with eddie and one time buck realises he's in love with eddie." word count: 6.5k important tags: 5+1 things, feelings realisation, love confessions, first kiss of accidents and inevitabilities by: tawaifeddiediaz "the one where they accidentally kiss, and the cards fall right into place." word count: 3.5k important tags: accidental kissing, soft!eddie diaz, getting together sounding like the rest of my life by: coupe_de_foudre "eddie does a Ravi and swaps shifts for a bit, only everyone on b shift is convinced that he and buck are married. they might not be as wrong as eddie initially thought." word count: 6.6k important tags: pining, getting together, didn't realise they were dating hey now, hey now by: fallingthorns "after returning to the 118, eddie becomes a full-time paramedic and ravi becomes buck's partner. eddie absolutely doesn't feel anything about that, not at all." word count: 10k important tags: 5+1 things, jealous!eddie diaz, paramedic!eddie diaz, getting together, grumpy!eddie diaz 911, what's your emergency? by: coupe_de_foudre "the 911 operator!buck fic that no one asked for but got anyway" word count: 20k important tags: different first meeting au, getting together, idiots to lovers the kermit verse by: hattalove "how is eddie diaz like kermit the frog? let buck and christopher count the ways." word counts: 8.7k important tags: getting together, first kiss, christopher diaz is a national treasure and i just want to wrap you up, want to kiss your lips by: bucksbuddie "five times buck steals eddie’s clothes and one time eddie gives them to him." word count: 9.8k important tags: 5+1 things, getting together, soft!buddie, light angst, sharing clothes, sharing a bed whatever life throws at you by: flirtyhale "it's his first day back after two whole weeks off. two whole weeks of spending his honeymoon in hawaii. with his best friend and love of his life. buck sits in the locker room, and doesn't want to take his wedding ring off." word count: 12k important tags: marriage, boys in love, honeymoon, family feels tell the whole wide world and this room by: hattalove "in which we learn about fermented milk products, discover that dolphins are sex fiends, and realize that sometimes, it really is all about knowing and being known." word count: 5.2k important tags: established relationship, marriage proposal, kissing

nobody knows you, baby, the way i do by: allyasavedtheday "buck and eddie bet hen and chimney that they know each other better than they do and a rivalry ensues. featuring one-upmanship, codependency, ravi as reluctant quizmaster and eddie believing his will is the ultimate trump card." word count: 3.7k important tags: bets and wagers, feelings realisations, first kiss