#the amount of angst i’ve read of these two oh my god

[ganjas-shit]

Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart

Warnings: sexual thoughts, angst, mentions of ptsd, Neil Hargrove, mentions of loneliness and isolation.

Pairings: main pairing Billy x reader, some slight Steve x reader

Summary: Your longing for an exciting romance finally comes true when Billy Hargrove becomes your next-door neighbor. But is love everything you thought it would be?

Authors note: hi everyone! I’m most likely going to be turning this into a series (don’t know how long yet) but I’m so very excited because this has been sitting in my drafts for about a year already and I’ve finally decided to just finish it. There will be eventual smut for this soooooooooooo yea tee hee anyways hope you guys like it! Btw the timeline I’m using is not the same as the one in the show.

⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚

Love was something you deeply craved, something you longed for. As ridiculous as it sounds, you thought about it almost every day.

Having that one partner in crime; someone you can be reckless, wild, and free with. Someone who makes you forget about reality; someone who would do anything for you. Someone who knows the deepest, darkest parts of you.

For a while it became something you obsessed over.

Intimate, passionate, crazy love—blamed for the constant loneliness you felt. Your obsession with fictional romance failed to alleviate it. No amount of reading or watching could fill the cavity in your heart, that horrible feeling of emptiness in your chest.

Then Billy Hargrove became your next-door neighbor.

It all happened so fast.

Your belly erupted with a swarm of butterflies the moment his ocean-blue eyes met yours, as if the world paused just for that brief moment.

His dirty blonde curls and tan skin ignited something deep inside you. Soon enough, the emptiness in your chest was replaced by the fierce pounding of your heart.

Pretty boys came with a lot of attention, though, meaning Billy Hargrove came with a lot of attention.

Every girl threw themselves at him the moment he set foot in Hawkins High. And who could blame them? With a face like his, he was downright gorgeous. If you had the courage, you'd throw yourself at him too.

But for now, simply admiring him from a distance would suffice.

You took pride in that though. Who else can say they had a perfect view of Billy Hargrove almost every night through their window?

You spent countless nights watching him smoke cigarettes outside on the hood of his Camaro, admiring the way the moonlight hit his face as he was in deep thought about God knows what.

It was pretty hard not to look at Billy other than those nights through your window though...

In Mrs. Clarke's biology class, you'd often catch yourself staring at him. He'd sense your gaze and once smirked back at you, letting you know he felt your eyes on him.

And God, he would never forget the look on your face—wide-eyed and embarrassed as hell.

He thought it was the funniest thing in the world and he found it quite entertaining.

He found you quite entertaining.

Billy was so accustomed to girls throwing themselves at him; it was something he had gotten used to since he hit puberty. And although he enjoyed all the flirtatious looks and comments girls threw at him, he eventually grew bored of it.

However, you and Billy shared a common craving. Whether it was for love, excitement, intimacy, or entertainment, both of you yearned for something more.

.

“Shit guys, we totally forgot to hang up banners in the gym for tomorrow's basketball game!” You screamed like a madwoman startling the entire student council.

With just two minutes left until dismissal, exhaustion hung heavy in the air. The entire week had been a relentless blur of preparation for the school's stupid pep rally and its accompanying activities. By this point, everyone, including you, was over it.

As the bell rang, everyone dashed out of the classroom as if their lives depended on it. They gave you apologetic looks, patted your shoulder, and mumbled every excuse imaginable to avoid putting up those banners in the school gym.

“So fuck me huh?!” you yelled after them, throwing both your arms up in frustration before dropping them in defeat.

As head of the student council, you couldn't afford to procrastinate. The principal had emphasized that those banners had to be up and ready for tomorrow's game, or there would be consequences. That prick didn't intimidate you in the slightest, but, you had a reputation to maintain, and everything had to be flawless.

You huffed and grumbled as you entered the gym, your arms hugging a variety of large banners needing to be hung up. Your frustration completely blinded you to the sight of the gym full of shirtless basketball players.

Suddenly, a basketball collided with your shoulder at full speed, knocking the banners out of your arms.

The gym erupted in laughter.

“This isn't the student council club you do know that right kooks?” Tommy H. yelled from the court, laughing, trying so hard to impress his dickhead teammates.

Kooks.

They had given you that nickname after the scene you caused at Tina's Halloween party last year. It's the reason you no longer associate yourself with that crowd.

You remember it like it was yesterday.

You arrived at Tina's party with Tommy and Carol by your side, just one week after your harrowing experience of getting stuck in the Upside Down. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to be out, and you knew it. You had been home, cutting class, and ignoring their calls, and they had noticed a change in you. You were easily irritable and on edge. Carol even made a snide comment about how you'd probably been hanging out with Munson, snorting too much Special K.

According to them, you were a real drag to be around. So, they dragged you out of the house, urging you to let loose and forget about whatever it was you were dealing with. And so you did. You drank until you couldn't feel anymore, indulging in anything and everything that was being passed around.

Carol was never truly your friend; she was someone you grew up with and were kind of forced to know. She never really cared for you, so it was no surprise when you overheard her snickering with a few girls from the cheer squad.

They all eyed you up and down as you drunkenly swayed to the music.

“Wonder what hell she's been living; she's out of fucking control,” Carol remarked, smacking her gum as she laughed with the girls next to her, rolling her eyes at you.

Your ears perked up at her words, and they echoed in your head on a relentless loop, amplified by the effects of alcohol and marijuana.

Hell. Hell. Hell.

Images from that fateful night flooded your mind—the frantic sprint through the woods, the desperate attempt to escape the unknown terror pursuing you. You ran until your lungs burned and your legs gave out, only to find yourself in a place that resembled home but felt like a nightmare. It was as though you had fallen into a pit and landed in a realm you could only describe as hell. Darkness enveloped everything, the air thick with swirling black particles, and a monstrous creature hunted you down as if you were its final prey.

Tears welled up at the memory, and you couldn't hold back any longer. You had been bottling up your emotions, feeling isolated because what you had experienced sounded utterly unbelievable.

You charged at Carol and shoved her into the wall, causing picture frames of Tina's seemingly perfect family to crash to the floor.

Like the breaking picture frames, the smiles masking their true essence shattered that night, much like your own exterior, revealing the turmoil within.

You started to laugh manically, tears spilling out of your eyes.

“Oh, Carol, you haven't seen hell,” you chuckled, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “It's right beneath this town, and it's anything but pretty. It's downright awful.”

Carol was frightened tears threatening to spill from her eyes, she felt powerless in this position.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem, Y/L/N? Get off of her!”Tommy yelled, rushing towards you and Carol, pulling you away from her.

You pushed him back. “Don't you dare put your fucking hands on me!” you yelled, your words laced with venom. He backed away, refocusing his attention on Carol, attempting to comfort her throbbing head.

The images flashed in your head: your screams, the Demogorgon, the overwhelming sense of isolation. You turned to face the party, and all eyes were on you as the music came to a sudden stop.

“How can you all just sit here and party,”you screamed, your voice growing louder, more terrifying with each word. Nobody dared to approach you or even attempt to calm you down. It was clear you were experiencing a psychotic break.

You hadn't spoken to Steve in months, ever since he started distancing himself from you, Tommy, and Carol. But you couldn't forget the moment when he threw you over his shoulder, with Nancy by his side, and dragged you out of that party.

That night, you cried until you fell asleep, finding comfort in the presence of Nancy Wheeler and your old friend Steve Harrington. When you woke up the next day, you found yourself in Nancy's bed, and they bombarded you with all sorts of questions. You ended up sharing the horrifying experiences you had down there, and for the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone. Now, you were stuck with a new nickname and a family bonded by the traumas of the Upside Down.

You laughed at the memory but the anger you felt in the moment snapped you back to reality.

The basketball rolled to the side, catching your attention. With all eyes on you, including Billy's intrigued gaze, you felt an itch for release. Without a second thought, you picked up the ball and with one swift motion, threw it at full speed. It struck the side of Tommy's head, catching him completely by surprise as he was too preoccupied trying to make his teammates laugh.

“You do realize there's a basketball game tomorrow, right? Maybe you should practice your passes a little more, you fucking prick!” you shot back, mimicking his tone with a hint of venom.

The laughter in the gym was quickly replaced by a chorus of “oooh's,” and Tommy was visibly seething with anger, clutching the side of his head where the basketball had struck him.

“You're so lucky you're a girl, freak!” Tommy yelled, pointing his finger at you in frustration.

You smiled and flipped him the bird.

Your reaction sparked something in Billy's gut, a mix of amusement and something else. He couldn't help but burst into laughter, though you might not have noticed being too preoccupied with picking the banners up.

Before he even realized it, Billy found himself inexplicably drawn towards you, as if some invisible force was guiding his steps.

Like his legs had minds of their own.

“That was quite a throw,” a deep, angelic voice sounded from behind you. Shit, you had totally forgotten he was here.

“Those throws are especially reserved for dickheads,” you retorted without turning around, your face turning as red as a tomato.

Billy's chuckle caught you off guard, something you never thought you'd hear up close. As you started to walk off to finish what you came here for, you heard him clear his throat, stopping you in your tracks.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” he questioned, giving you no choice but to turn around and see what he was referring to.

And god all mighty

There he was, shirtless. His tan skin glistened with sweat, revealing defined abs and muscular arms. Geez, you could've passed out right then and there.

He wore a proud smirk, revealing a perfect set of teeth as he held out the tape you needed for the banners. You almost drooled at the sight of him, feeling your core heat up and your cheeks flush.

“Oh, uh—thanks” you nervously said, quickly grabbing the tape from his hand. Surprisingly, you still maintained eye contact. God, he loved the effect he had on you.

“You need any help with those?” he chuckled once again. That's twice now; one more and you might just jump on him.

“Don’t you have to get ready for tomorrow’s game?” You asked timidly.

Jesus, why did you care?

“They can’t overwork their star player sweetheart.” He winked, once again flashing his pearly whites

You died and went to heaven at this point.

Sweetheart? That wink?

Your mouth hung open and he left you speechless, like a crazed fan girl. You started to wonder how he’d look at you if you were on your knees taking all of him.

How he’d talk to you..

“Look at you taking all of me sweetheart.”

God you really needed to get your shit together.

“Come on sweetheart don’t leave me hanging,” he said as he waved his hand in your face, trying to bring you back to reality.

He really needed to stop calling you that.

“Um, yeah, I guess I could use a little help,” you said, swallowing harshly. Your gaze shifted from the banners in your hands to his lips.

You really hated how flustered you got around him but a small part of you loved these new feelings.

“Great.” he responded with a cheeky grin.

You found yourself not being much help; he took charge and handled the banner hanging almost entirely by himself. He insisted on doing it, claiming it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

Tommy looked over at the two of you, confused. Billy Hargrove being a gentleman, especially to the psycho? Hell must've frozen over, he thought.

With Billy taking on the work, you had no choice but to stand there, looking all pretty, as you ripped pieces of tape with your mouth and passed them to him. You guided him on how to position the banners into place.

You couldn't help but notice the way his back muscles flexed when he reached up to position the banner, sending a flutter through your stomach.

You’d never been this close to him.

It also didn’t help that he brushed his fingers against yours every time he went to grab a piece of tape from you. And with him on the stool, towering above you, looking down at you, there was plenty of room for imagination for you both.

You were convinced he was trying to fucking kill you. Was he aware of the effect he had on you?

Every touch from him sent every single nerve in your body into a frenzy.

And those were just your fingers; you could only imagine what would happen if his fingers touched the spot you longed for him the most.

In the past few weeks, Billy had noticed that he was always running into you one way or another. So, he decided he might as well make it fun.

You were different from the girls he usually pursued, and he liked that. It made things all the more exciting. Billy had learned a few things about you: you were timid but had a backbone, responsible (an assumption he made because you were the student council president), and not too worried about your appearance, which didn't really matter because you were already breathtakingly beautiful.

“LADIES, HUDDLE UP! HARGROVE, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Coach Williams's voice rang out, snapping both you and Billy out of your thoughts.

Billy climbed off the step stool and leaned in towards your ear, catching you completely by surprise. He whispered, "Glad I can be of help, sweetheart. If you need help with anything else, I'm only one house away." With a smirk, he pulled back and left to return to his team captain duties.

The hot of this breath made your body shiver.

The look on your face was embarrassing, with your cheeks hot and your mouth slightly hanging open. Billy would never forget it; in fact, the mere sight of your mouth hanging open made him twitch in his pants as his imagination ran wild once again.

Your thoughts wouldn't allow you peace of mind as you finished tidying up the banners into place. Lost in thought, you hadn't even noticed that everyone had already left the gym, leaving you alone in the empty space.

The sound of the door gym doors opening startled you, snapping you back to reality.

You smiled at the sight of the tall brunette.

“Ah if it isn’t King Steve” you say teasingly, “or should I say EX King Steve who has been dethroned by the new California hottie.” You tease poking at his face

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Steve replied dryly swatting your fingers away, taking fake offense to your comment.

Steve could care less about his so called “throne” he had new priorities, which consisted of ooking after you and his newfound family of children.

“Very funny y/n,” he said sarcastically.

Steve couldn't help but wonder if you and Billy had been hanging out. He had noticed how fond you had grown of him ever since he stepped into town. Lately, he had observed a change in your demeanor, how excited you were to get home, and how your face lit up at the sound of Billy's name. Steve could practically feel the butterflies radiating off of you.

“Hanging around is pushing it, Steve. We're just neighbors,” you reply, with a slight blush on your face that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve.

“Yeah, I don't blush when someone mentions Agatha, my next-door neighbor,” he scoffs, shivering at the thought of his creepy stalker neighbor.

You roll your eyes at him, though it's quickly replaced with a smirk. “Well, Billy isn't a creepy stalker,”you say, though you wouldn't mind if he was. “Plus, he's kinda hot,”you finish, nudging his shoulder as you two make your way out of the gym.

“Yeah, gross,” Steve dramatically gags, though he also cringes at the slight twinge of jealousy he keeps feeling in his stomach.

You and Steve never hooked up. However, you two did develop some weird feelings for each other, but it was probably because you were so close to dying together.

You frown at the memory you thought was going to be the last.

Vines from the Upside Down began to wrap around your neck and body. Steve was right next to you, suffering the same fate. He looked at you, his heart breaking at the fear in your eyes. Trying to bring you some comfort, he gathered as much strength as he could and reached his hand out for yours, interlocking them together.

Thankfully, Eddie and Dustin saved you and everyone who thought it would be a bright idea to fight off Vecna. Ever since that day, though, Steve has been attached to your hip, making sure you get home safely after school and always ensuring you aren't alone.

Sometimes he'd find himself gazing at your lips or absentmindedly brushing away strands of hair that danced across your face on a windy day.

Steve didn’t know where you two stood. Neither of you had made a move, and he was too afraid to make one and face rejection.

You weren't sure how you felt about Steve, but you knew how you felt about Billy, and that feeling was becoming increasingly difficult to brush off.

“Coach still benching you for tomorrow's game?” you ask, changing the subject immediately. You regret it the moment you see the disappointment on Steve's face.

Basketball was his first love and ever since Billy got to town he’s slowly been losing the love he once held for the game.

He ran a hand through his messy head of hair and sighed.

“Yeah, thanks to your boy toy over there,” Steve says, glaring at the blonde who was a car away from Steve's. You wrap your arms around him as you two reach his burgundy BMW.

“You're a great player, Steve,” you state matter of factly, squeezing him a little tighter. “I think everything that's been going on—the Upside Down, us fighting interdimensional monsters, and almost dying—has taken a toll on you.” You reassure him and then let go to look into his eyes.

“It's normal to have a little setback; it's understandable. Plus, you've saved the world multiple times!” you said, slapping his chest lightly. “That beats being a starter on the stupid Hawkins High basketball team any day.”You finished, smiling at him.

Steve’s eyes softened at your words and smiled.

Christ, this is exactly why his feelings were a mess for you.

Steve brought you in for a tight hug because words couldn’t express how grateful he was for you.

From the next car down, Billy observed the two of you and couldn't shake the thought: had you and Harrington ever been a thing? The idea unsettled him because Billy Hargrove didn’t want to share you.

.

Steve dropped you off at home, as he usually did. He would usually stay for a bit and keep you company, but tonight he promised Dustin he’d take him to Mike’s for their D&D campaign.

You walked into the house, which was eerily quiet and empty, as it always was. Switching on the kitchen light, you noticed a note attached to the fridge.

Be back in the morning. Love you. -Dad

You sighed as a your traced your finger up down the note.

Your father traveled for work most of the time as a tech service representative for a variety of chemical companies. He'd often be gone for days, sometimes even weeks, so being alone was something you had grown accustomed to.

Your relationship with your father was also very complicated. You would even say it was nonexistent, given that he was always gone, and when he was around, he'd sleep the days away.

You pretended like it didn’t bother you but deep down it was something that made the cavity in your heart unbearable.

You weren't completely alone, though. Steve and you bonded over your shared loneliness, as both of his parents were also always away on business trips, calling only once a week, if he was lucky.

He'd often spend the night at your place, or you'd spend the night at his, rewatching ‘The Breakfast Club’ or ‘Sixteen Candles,’ his personal favorite, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone.

The bond between you two wasn't solely fueled by loneliness; fear played a significant role as well. It was the fear of that night—the night your friends almost died—that kept you together.

You felt goosebumps travel throughout your body at the thought of it. You instantly shook it off and decided to wash your feelings away with a warm, hot shower. You dreaded the night to come because of the insomnia you developed this past year of living in this small town. But thankfully, you had a couple of your favorite romance novels on deck to keep you occupied throughout the night.

You slipped into one of Eddie’s well-worn Metallica tees, its length reaching down to your knees. It was a keepsake from the day you and the gang had spent the night at his trailer, after an exciting evening of sneaking into the Hawkins community pool.

It was one of your favorite memories you’ve made in this shit town.

After slipping on the tee, you put on some black laced panties you pulled from you drawer.

You glanced over to your window, partially covered by your curtains, and wondered what the dirty blonde was up to. Curious, you walked over and took a peek, wondering where he was because he was usually out at this time, either smoking a cigarette or sitting in his car, or doing both at once.

Like clockwork, he slammed his front door, grabbing the red lighter he always kept in his back pocket and reaching it to the cigarette hanging out of his pink lips.

He cupped the cigarette out of habit and lit it, inhaling the silent killer.

He then hopped onto the hood of his car and reclined, still smoking the cigarette as he gazed at the starlit sky, lost in deep thought.

You wanted to join him, eager to learn more about the California boy, even if he didn't show interest in you. Something inside you just needed to know who Billy Hargrove was.

You also wanted to try to settle the intense feelings coursing through your body.

You stared at him for what felt like a lifetime, admiring his chiseled jawline, how his pretty blue eyes looked in the moonlight, and the rhythmic pattern of his inhaling and exhaling cigarette smoke.

Fuck you cigarette.

You envied his cigarettes.

You wanted to be inhaled and exhaled like that, and you didn’t even care if you were disregarded like them when he was done.

Billy felt your gaze through the window, and as he smirked, you couldn't help but notice. Despite being caught, you couldn't suppress a smile of your own.

Billy sat up and looked directly into your window. Your face grew flustered as you two made eye contact, but you held it, unable to look away.

You pushed yourself to do something you found so uncomfortable and you ignored the negative thoughts running through your head.

Billy tossed his cigarette to the ground and he was about to pick up a new one.

That being you.

You quickly threw on some discarded sweats from the floor and made your way to the front door. As you wrapped your hand around the doorknob, you hesitated for a minute. Nervousness gripped you, but you were determined to make things different this year. You wanted to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. No longer content with just fantasizing about romance, you wanted to live it, even if it meant risking a broken heart in the process. After all, at least you'd have a story to tell.

The cool night breeze kissed your face, sending shivers down your spine as you stepped out of your door. Closing it behind you, you were wrapped in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights. Your heart raced as you descended off the few steps of your front porch.

As you turned the corner, you were met with Billy Hargrove's infuriating smirk. It would've been irritating if you didn't harbor this crush for him. With determination, you walked in front of his car, mere inches away from where he sat. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

“Hi,” you spoke up slightly out of breath. Billy knew it was nervousness that caused you to sound that way.

You think back to the conversation you had earlier in the day.

“If you ever need help with anything, I’m only one house away.”

You wanted something. You knew what you wanted, and you knew what him meant by it, but you didn’t want to jump his bones immediately. You wanted to get to know him, and maybe that was foolish of you given his reputation, but you didn’t care. You knew you couldn't judge someone based on rumors.

“Hi, Y/N,” Billy greeted with a chuckle, his eyes roaming over your figure. He noticed your shirt and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“You listen to Metallica?” Billy questioned, his gaze shifting to Eddie's worn-out black tee. "Oh, this?" you said, grabbing onto the thin material of your shirt. “No, it's a friend's. He let me borrow it,” you partially explained, letting out a shaky laugh.

“Hmm, didn't peg Harrington for the metal type either,” Billy remarked, assumingly lighting yet another cigarette.

"You think Steve's my only male friend?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have more than one?" Billy questioned back, the movement of lighting his cigarette coming to a short pause, his eyes widening momentarily. Billy could take Harrington, but any other male suitors would be a problem for him.“Is that a problem, Hargrove?” you questioned, once again amused by his reaction. Was he jealous?

He laughed and took a drag from his cigarette. He looked so beautiful like this, the view from your window couldn’t compare to the view you had right now. Despite the chill outside, you felt a warmth spreading through you.

“Not that I can’t compete with Harrington and?” He asked waiting for you to provide the name of said friend.

Compete?

“Eddie,” you said filling in the blank for him. “Ah, Munson, the freak,” he chuckled, taking yet another drag from his cigarette.

“You do know you’re talking to right? You remark, raising an eyebrow at him hinting that you fell into the same category as Eddie.

“Never said I had a problem with ‘freaks’,” he said smiling, as he looked down at your lips before meeting your gaze. “If I’m being honest they’re my favorite types of people.” He added licking his lips.

You gulped as his intense gaze met yours. He was undeniably gorgeous. The ache between your legs begged for relief, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed, especially when he then asked,

“Come sit,” he said, making space for you on the hood of his car. You obliged, sitting on the cool surface, crossing your legs, relieving some type of pressure. “You smoke?” he asked, handing you the lit cigarette. You took the cigarette, his warm fingers slightly touching your cold ones.

“Nope, but there's a first time for everything, right?” you smiled, taking a drag of the cigarette. The sensation immediately made you almost cough out a lung and you hadn’t even inhaled it completely. Billy laughed once again and slid his hand onto your back, lightly patting it attempting to ease your coughing fit.

You handed the cigarette back to him and laughed, the coughing fit dying down. “Yeah, first and last time doing that. God, that is nothing like weed,” you remarked.

Billy removed his hand from your back, and you couldn't help but groan slightly at the loss of touch. He looked at you with an amused smile. "I could only imagine how you reacted to hitting a joint," he said with a grin.

“Oh, trust me, it was nothing like that. I almost died just now,”you said as you wiped the tears that formed in your eyes from coughing.

You leaned back on his car like he did on countless nights and looked up at the starlit sky. Billy did the same after putting out his cigarette. "The only good thing about this shit town is how pretty the sky looks at night," you said. He looked up at the sky and thought the same. There were so many stars, each one representing hope.

"And the rain," he added, which surprised you. “But you're from California, it’s all sun over there!” You exclaimed, giggling a bit.

“Yeah, I know,” he smiled at your excitement. “It hardly rains over there, but I loved it when it did,” he said, reminiscing about his life in California.

“I liked sitting in my car and listening to the rain; it brings me some sort of peace of mind. Especially here, it's stronger and louder, drowns out the thoughts,” he added, tapping his head in a playful manner.

You smiled at his explanation.

“It makes me feel like a kid again,” you added, your voice soft with nostalgia. "Running around, no jacket, laughing, feeling the water down your face and drenching your clothes. Sometimes I sit outside and look up at the sky, enjoying the way it feels on my face," you said, still smiling at the sky above.

Billy turned his head to look at you now, and you were oblivious to it for the first time. He felt his heart skip a beat at your explanation and the way you smiled at the sky full of stars. From that moment on, Billy was determined to know more about you.

You two continued talking, giggling, sneaking glances at each other, but it all came to a halt when you both heard a loud slam from the door of his house. A man in his mid-40s descended down the stairs of Billy’s front porch and made his way towards you both. Billy straightened up immediately at the sight of this man.

“It’s late,” the man spat, keeping his eyes on Billy, completely ignoring your presence. “Get inside; you need to take Maxine and yourself to school tomorrow.”

“Hi, sir,”you timidly intervened. “I'm Y/N. I live next door. I'm sorry for keeping Billy out so late. We were just talking about class, and I lost track of time.” You finished

Billy looked at you in shock as if you said something out of turn.

He looked you up and down with a deadpanned look before giving you a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Then, he gave Billy a warning glance before leaving. Odd. You thought.

You noticed the shift in Billy’s demeanor he was noticeably uncomfortable and even seemed scared. Billy took a deep breath after his father left and ran a hand over his face, visibly tense.

“You okay?” You carefully asked not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Yeah, I will be,”he exhaled, mustering up a small smile. “Thank you for tonight. I'll see you around, Y/N.” With that, he left. You waited until he made it inside and you returned home yourself.

As you stepped into the house, the loneliness of it consumed you once again. But you disregarded it, shaking it off, because a bigger part of you felt content and happy.

.

Billy grew accustomed to loneliness; sometimes, he even preferred it. But when he saw how present his friends' parents were in their lives, the loneliness spread and often consumed him. His mother was gone, her whereabouts unknown, leaving him abandoned and stuck with his monstrous father. He had the shell of a parental figure, but in reality, his father was a bully, a coward. This left Billy feeling trapped and hopeless, like a prisoner in his own home, with no one to relate to, no one to vent to, nothing.

When Billy made it inside his house he had already prepared himself for the worst. His father was seated on the sofa waiting for him to come in.

“I'm sorry, sir, I lost track of—“ Neil raised his hand to stop him from explaining, and like a trained soldier, Billy shut his mouth immediately. Neil stood up, making his way towards him. Billy flinched as Neil raised his hand, and to Billy’s surprise, he patted his shoulder. Billy furrowed his brows in confusion; he hated his father's touch. “Nice girl,” Neil remarked before walking past him and heading to his room.

What the fuck?

Anger coursed through Billy’s veins, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Why you? What the hell was so special about you that had Neil Hargrove's fatherly approval? Billy scoffed. He didn’t care if he'd get beatings for what he had planned or about your feelings at the moment, but he was going to royally piss his father off. Fuck his approval. He didn’t want it nor did he care for or it.

Billy disregarded his strong feelings for you and decided to be the dick he knew himself to be.

Tags:

[knitepercival]

I’ve been reading so many Major Merlin fics lately, drawing them was inevitable~ 😌❤️

[ponyosmom35]

he's gone

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

synopsis: reader finds out that Simon passed when Price, Johnny, and Gaz show up at her house.

warnings: angst, death, PTSD, panic attack, crying, I'm so sorry

Link to master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

She holds her hose tightly in her hand as she sprays her blooming flowers with water. The sun was beginning to set and she felt at peace. Allowing her mind to wash away the stress of the day. The sunlight hits her face and she sighs, imaging that somewhere in the world, Simon was looking at the same beautiful sky. She recalled their conversation earlier that day, a small smile coming to her lips as she remembered his voice. 

She stood in the kitchen, intensely focused on her measuring cup as she attempted to fill it with the correct amount of water. She turns off the water after allowing it to reach ⅓ and carefully moves over to her mixing bowl. She dumps the water in and moves the mixer down, flipping the switch and watching as her kitchen aid whips the cake mix together. The loud noise drowns out the sound of her phone ringing and she carries on. A few minutes later she finishes putting the batter into a pan and throws it into the oven, hoping that a lemon cake would distract her from how much she missed Simon. She looks down at her small ragdoll kitten who plays with her feet and laughs, she picks him up and kisses his little face gently. Still deciding how she was gonna come clean about adopting a pet without permission. 

It had been two weeks since he’d gone. So far she’d been doing better than she expected, managing to keep herself quite busy all day. It was the nights that were the hardest. She struggled to sleep without him. She tried to pretend like her body pillow was the same, but nothing could beat the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. When she came across a post about the little guy needing a home, she volunteered without a second thought. 

He was quite good about calling, he would try to call every other day when in between missions. But as they got new intel he wouldn’t be able to reach out for several days at a time. This week she had not heard from him once. She knew he was going on their first mission.  She worried about him, she knew that he could handle himself, better than anyone in the world. 

She picks up her phone to set a timer when she realizes she’d missed his call. Her heart drops and she calls him back instantly. 

“Si?” she asks anxiously 

“Hi my love” 

“Oh thank god, I thought something may have happened. I’m so sorry I didn’t hear my phone I was baking and it was on silent” 

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t expect you to pick up every time I call”

“Of course I will” she says 

“How are you doing darling?”

“I’m doing good, I decided to bake a cake for whatever reason” she says staring at the mess of flower and egg shells on the counter.

Simon chuckles and leans back in his chair as he imagines her in the kitchen trying to bake. Tears fill his eyes and he attempts to keep his voice steady.

“Is my kitchen still standing?” he asks

“The kitchen smells wonderful thank you very much” she responds 

“What have you been up to this week? Catch me up” 

“I wanna talk about you, where have you been the past week? Are you any closer to coming home? How are you doing? How are the boys?” she says rapid firing her questions 

“We’re all good. But I don’t wanna talk about work, tell me about you distract me” 

She nods to herself, understanding that he didn’t want to talk about it, meaning that their mission didn’t go as planned. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“just talk to me baby, anything” 

“Well it’s been pretty gloomy today so I started reading a new book, it’s about grief. I’ve only read a few chapters but so far it’s been very reassuring and comforting to know that grief isn’t linear, you go through ups and downs just like anything else”

“That sounds wonderful love” 

“Yeah, so I’m gonna try and read for a few minutes everyday. Kylie and I have started a jazzercise class, you should see how awful I am. I can’t look at myself in the mirror because in my mind I’m absolutely killing it, but then I look at the mirror and it looks like i’m half dead” she laughs 

“I’d pay anything to see it” 

“Don’t worry, when you come home you’re gonna get a full performance” she promises, causing him to laugh. The lump in his throat is tightening as the tears fall down his cheeks. He runs his hands through his hair and covers the speaker as he sniffles. 

“I’m counting down the minutes” 

“Me too” she muses “so I think we should get a cat” 

“What?” he asks

“Let me rephrase that, I brought home a kitten last week”

“Did you now?” he chuckles 

“Before you freak out, he’s so cute and cuddly, he was abandoned and my friend found him but she couldn't take care of him, I just had to bring him home!” she defends herself 

“I’m not mad love, I’m glad you’ve got someone to keep you company. What's his name?”

“Junie”

“Why Junie?” 

“Because june is the month we met” she admits 

Simon puts the phone down and covers his face. His heart was crushing at her words. He receives a knock on the door, he wipes his eyes and picks the phone back up. “I love it”

“We’re about an hour out from departure, so I’m gonna have to let you go” he says slipping his mask over his face.

“Okay, please be safe”

“I love you more than anything in this world, take care of yourself okay?” 

“Of course Si, I love you too, call me as soon as you can”

“goodbye love” he says before hanging up the phone. 

She noticed his odd behavior that morning, but decided to let it go to prevent any unnecessary anxiety. She finishes watering the plants and turns off the hose. She walks to the steps and heads inside. She shuts the door, making sure to lock the door as well as placing the wood down to prevent it from being opened easily. She slips off her shoes and smiles at the sight of Junie sitting on the counter. She picks him up and holds him close. The sound of a knock at the door catches her attention. She wasn’t aware of any company. She walks over to the door and opens it to see John, Kyle, and Johnny. Her eyes travel to the British flag held in John’s hands and her smile falls.  

“John?” she asks as her brain struggles to process the situation. 

“y/n-”

“Don’t you dare” she warns holding her hand up to stop him “don’t” 

“He’s gone lass” Johnny says, his teary eyes meeting her own. She shakes her head and glares at him. 

“I just talked to him this morning” she refuses 

“Mission was local, went south and we barely got out. We came here as soon as we could” 

“What happened to him?” she asks, crossing her arms, clearly still in shock from the news.

“Can we come in?” John asks, she nods and leads them into the living room where they sit and she remains standing. 

“Tell me john” 

“Why don’t you sit down” he responds 

“I want to know what happened!” she demands 

“He was hit” Kyle says 

“Where?” she asks, Price shakes his head and stands up, moving over to her and placing the flag in her hands. She notices the tags placed neatly in the center of it and she reads his printed name. She looks up at him as tears fill her eyes. 

“He’s not gone, I just talked to him today! He was telling me not to burn the kitchen down -” she cuts herself off with a sob, and holds her hand to her mouth. “We’re getting married in four months”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, I-I wish I could’ve saved him” Price says gently

“Please don’t say that” she begs

“Is there anyone we can call for you?” he asks gently 

“Stop this john I can’t - I can’t” she says setting his things down on the table as she looks out of the window. Tears stream down her face as she attempts to control her breathing. 

“These are for you” Johnny says, handing her a bundle of letters, each of them addressed to her. There is a small box on the top of the pile. 

Her vision blurs at the sight of his handwriting. Her body becomes weak as two words loop in her mind. Her body falls to the floor as the voices of the three men fade away. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. The man she loved with every fiber of her being. Her Simon. Simon who nearly killed the person who disrespected her. Simon who held her when her sister died. Simon who saved her life. Simon, who built her a bookshelf, redid her entire deck and porch. Never again would he give her one of his bear hugs. She wouldn’t hear his beautiful laugh, or watch the way he separated his food to keep it from touching. No more early morning cuddles, kisses, silly arguments. How would she live without him? What she wouldn’t have given to hear his deep voice in that moment, telling her that it was going to be okay. He couldn't. He was gone. 

She was inconsolable, her heart wrenching sobs echoed through the house. Bringing tears to the eyes of the soldiers surrounding her. Johnny was at her side, holding her shaking body, trying his best to bring her even the smallest bit of comfort. He felt sick to his stomach watching her writhe in pain. 

John had called her parents and the trio waitied with her until they arrived. As soon as John opened the door, they recognized him from the day he brought the news about Emma. Her mother gasps and hurries into the house, seeing her daughter crumpled on the ground, agonizing sobs erupting from her lungs. She drops beside her and rubs her back. Her father shakes Johns hand and walks the soldiers to the door. John pulls him outside and informs him the the truth. 

“Sir, we need you to understand that the work we do is classified, in the eyes of the Government we do not exist unless we’re needed. With a job like this, comes sacrifices we have to make to protect the people we love”

“I’m not following? What sacrifices?” her father says, crossing his arms 

“If one of the people we’re investigating finds any bit of information about out lives or our loved ones then they’d be in danger”

“Are you telling me that my family isn’t safe?” 

“Officially I can’t tell you anything, but you need to know that we’re taking care of the situation, you’re family will be under 24/7 surveillance. You won’t even know they’re around” 

“Is it true then? Is Simon really gone? Man to man, is he gone?” her father asks, staring at Price. 

“For now” he responds “it’s imperative that y/n believes this”

“You’re asking me to lie to my daughter? Do you hear her in there? How can I-”

“Sacrifices, we all have to make them in order to keep our family safe. That’s all we’re doing here” Price shakes his hand and walks down the steps “take care of her, we’ll be checking in”

-

After hours of tossing and turning, crying until her lungs and throat burned she finally decides to get out of the warmth of her bed. A place she used to feel the most comfortable, now was empty. She rubs her hands over her face as her headache grows more intense, the lack of sleep already affecting her. Having woken up multiple times from nightmares, she willed herself to stay awake, to protect her fragile heart from the horror of her dreams. Everyday for the past week she’d been reminding herself that dreams are simply just a reflection of the mind, a way for her worries and fears to be shown. It wasn’t real. He wasn’t gone. This couldn’t be true. Simon wouldn't leave her. 

She moves into the bathroom and stares at herself in the mirror, she looks exhausted. The weight of Simon’s absence is evident on her face. Her face was puffy and her hair was tangled. A mixture of tears, saliva, and mucus coated her face. She wipes it off and sighs. Her lips trembling once more as her eyes fill with tears. She grips onto her hair as she tries to breath through her fourth panic attack in 24 hours. Memories of his hands running through her hair flash through her mind. A wave of nausea runs through her and she stares at it in disgust. He always loved her hair, he’d play with it absentmindedly. She was angry. How as she supposed to live with the hair he would kiss every morning, the hair he gripped when he kissed her passionately. She notices the scissors on the counter and grabs them, without hesitation she begins to cut strips of her hair off. She watches as her gorgeous strands fall, some in the sink, others landing on the ground. She sobs as she ruins her hair, unable to stop herself. After several minutes, she drops the scissors and stares at herself, the jagged strands unbalanced. She rushes to the toilet in a split second and empties her stomach violently. 

The sound causes her mother to rush into her room, she bursts through the door and spots her daughter laying against the toilet surrounded by her precious locks. “Oh honey”

-

please forgive me for this! omg I made myself cry. below is the link to when they reunite, I posted this a few months ago. If you wanna read that now, you are more than welcome I'll link it below, however there will be a few filler chapters in-between that I'll be posting!!!

You’re alive? (middle of MW3)

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/724654294153003008/youre-alive?source=share

love you all <3

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

Smallville Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

JT Tag List:

@sleepyqueerenergy @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @fromcaintodean @deanbrainrotwritings @jackles010378 @akshi8278 @rachiem4-blog @waters-2567 @jessjad @sweettimelady @iprobablyshipit91 @leigh70

@clinicallydepresso @lokigirl666 @xiphoidbones @rominaszh @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @sanscas @kaleldobrev

[gyu-effect]

hi, congrats for 250 followers!!! i love all your works so far and couldn't wait to read more of your works. i also read your svt as love tropes and i AM DYING bc you wrote joshua as enemies-to-lovers (bc obviously joshua is my bias and the trope is my fav🥲). i guess this is very specific, but for the event, can i req joshua + enemies-to-lovers with the "who did this to you?"???? thanks!!

PAIRING || Joshua x Female Reader

GENRES || Fluff, Enemies To Lovers AU, A Bit Of Angst

WARNINGS || yn's dad being a typical asian parent (sigh), mention of getting hurt

WORD COUNT || 1.6k (i got carried away-)

A/N || Oh my god thank you so so much! i actually am not that great at writing e2l but i had great fun in writing that one so i'm so glad you liked it! thank you for requesting, i tried my best and i really hope you like it too!

TAGLIST || @romeosbreastmilkmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped [if you want to be added to my taglist send me an ask!]

[09:51]

“i heard your report card came two days ago.”

you stopped on your tracks, turning slowly to face your father who was sitting on the living room couch, reading the newspaper. you let out an awkward laughter but it did nothing to calm down your now racing heart. 

“ah, it must have slipped out of my mind.” you said, praying you wouldn’t get into more trouble. “you know how busy i’ve been with cram school and extra classes-”

“go get it now.” his cold voice cut you off as he placed the newspaper down, giving you a look that you were so familiar with. you swallowed hard, mind racing to find some excuse but you just couldn't; the fear was so engraved in you that it felt like your entire body had just stopped responding to you.

“isn’t it- isn’t it too late? how about i show it to you tomorrow-”

“now. i want to see it now. or did you have some reason to hide it?” he stood up and walked up to you, and you tried moving back as far as you could, but your back hit the wall very soon.

“no- why would i-”

“or,” his voice dropped an octave as he bent to your eye level, causing you to flinch, “did you come second again and that hong boy come first?”

your silence seemed to be enough for your father. 

he straightened up as he regarded you coldly. “you are so pathetic, don’t you have any shame? i spend millions behind you and you can’t even do the one thing you are supposed to! do you know how embarrassing it is to tell everyone that you, the always second rank holder, are my daughter?”

you could feel your fingernails digging into your skin as you balled your fist in anger. tears stung your eyes but no matter how much you clenched your teeth, your heart still seemed to ache from your father’s harsh words. 

“fine!” you finally snapped. “why don’t you just disown me and adopt joshua as your child then?”

as soon as you had finished your sentence, you heard a loud slap and your knees hit the ground. your cheek stung from the intensity of the slap but before you could even take everything in, you felt your father yank you up by your hair.

you screamed as you tried to pull yourself away but that just earned another slap from your father, this time feeling a sting on your lips. finally breaking free from him, you ran out of your house onto the street, blindly running until you finally reached the park.

the park wasn’t actually a park. it was an abandoned playground with a few trees here and there that hadn’t been touched by the development of your posh neighbourhood. yet. you had discovered this place in your sixth grade, and seeing that no one ever came by, it soon became your escape spot for whenever your parents scolded you too much.

you sat down on one of the creaky swings, finally feeling the tears fall down your cheeks.

your lips stung, your cheeks hurt, your head was throbbing but mostly it was your heart. it was clenching painfully at the thought of how meaningless you were to your parents, no matter how hard you tried. it hurt from the amount of hatred that had piled up against your parents and mostly hong joshua.

hong joshua. 

the stellar boy of the school. the secret crush of every single girl in your grade. the favourite boy of all the teachers that had taught you.

he was well mannered, sweet, handsome and smart. 

so no matter how much your parents pitted you against him, it shouldn't have bothered you since he obviously deserved it, right?

but it seemed like he knew your parents did that, and that’s why every time he would win first he would always smirk at your direction as though trying to rile you up. that sweet boy facade disappeared everytime the two of you were alone or competing with each other.

he made sure to point out all your mistakes every time, never take your suggestions despite being in the same student body for so many years together and argue back for almost everything you said.

in other words, the two of you were sworn enemies and you hated him with your every living breath.

sometimes, you wished he would just disappear so that your life could become easier. everything was so easy for him, while you had to struggle and work hard for everything. even if it was just making your parents proud like his.

you sighed for the umpteenth time, once again blaming joshua for everything.

“well, well, who do we have here?”

you whipped in shock towards the direction of the oh so familiar voice, praying it wasn’t who you thought it was.

but like always, your prayers were never answered.

your eyes met hong joshua's teasing gleaming ones, and it took every bit of your willpower not to retort back.

"cat got your tongue, darling?"

you hated that nickname but this time, you just smiled at him, wincing a little at the sting on your lip.

immediately his smirk fell, eyes finally taking in your messy hair and the wound on your lips.

"who did this to you?" 

if you had been in your right mind you would have heard the coldness and anger in his voice, but you weren't so instead you turned away from him, hoping he would just go away.

you heard his footsteps from behind you and within seconds you found the boy you hated the most in this world crouching in front of you. your eyes were now at level with his, and he looked concerned.

"y/n." he asked once again, gritting his teeth. "who did this to you?"

"can you just go away?" you whispered, closing your eyes as you leaned your head against the metal threads of the swing. "i don't need you to find another thing to pick on me.”

“pick on-” joshua shook his head. “wait here, i’ll be back in a minute.” saying that, he got up and ran from there. you muttered a ‘whatever’ but within a minute you heard his footsteps, along with his heavy breathing.

opening your eyes, you once again found joshua kneeling in front of you, this time dabbing a cotton bud onto an antiseptic cream. he raised his hand to apply it on your lip but you just turned your head away from him.

“hey,” he said so softly that you nearly turned back to look at him in shock. “i’m not going to hurt you, okay? but we need to take care of that so that it doesn’t leave a scar on those pretty lips of yours, okay?” he continued, still speaking softly to you as though he was afraid you would break if he spoke to you otherwise. the hong joshua you knew had the could speak this softly to you?

when you still didn’t turn to him, he sighed. then, you felt warmth prickle your hands as he took them in his, causing you to finally look at him.

“what are you doing-” you began but he cut you off.

“i’m sorry if you thought i was picking on you.” he said, his eyes filled with so much sincerity that your heart nearly skipped a beat. “i didn’t mean to hurt you, i swear. i just- i just thought you wouldn’t mind if i teased you a bit. it was just that…it was so fun bickering with you and you look so cute everytime you are riled up. i didn’t mean it in a bad way, i swear. if i had known how your parents were…”

his voice trailed off as you mulled his words in your head. was it really true that he had never meant it in a bad way?

the more you thought about it, the more you realised that he might be right. after all, he had never insulted you in front of others, not even if he had beaten you in yet another exam. he had just bickered with you and that was about it.

you wanted to ask why didn’t he try being more nicer to you then but instead you asked-

“you think i’m cute?”

even joshua seemed taken aback by your choice of question but after a second he broke into a laugh. his eyes pulled into the half moons you were so familiar with as he displayed his bunny teeth as he laughed. you always knew he was handsome but right now he looked cute, beautiful and handsome.

“is that what is bothering you?”

“i- no. i mean, yes.” you stuttered, all of a sudden unable to meet your ‘enemy’s’ eyes. 

“yeah, i think you are cute. really cute and pretty. especially when you are riled up. or flustered like now.”

“i’m not flustered!”

he laughed once more and this time you couldn’t stop the sudden stuttering of your heart. was just joshua’s laugh enough to make you forget your hatred for him and like him?

no way.

“i’m still mad at you.” you muttered, as he gently patted down your hair. he looked at you apologetically. 

“i’m sorry. i really am. i didn’t know i was hurting you. is there any way i can make it up to you?”

“well..” what could he even do to make it up to you? it wasn’t exactly his fault that he didn’t realise he was hurting you. should you just ask him to be your friend? hating one less person seemed to be a great idea to you.

“if you aren’t sure could i suggest something?”

“er, okay?” the cocky smile on his face made you suspicious of what he was going to say but decided to give it a try.

“do you want to go out with me on a date tomorrow?”

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

[bloatedandalone04]

The End of Love

➪the one where you break up but still love each other. (requested-ish)

Warnings: angst, fluff, break ups, swearing, gaslighting

Inspired by the song 'The End of Love' by Florence + The Machine

Word Count: 3.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

The buildings intimated you in the best way. 

You look up and have to squint, even though you were wearing sunglasses. The sun was high and had no clouds whatsoever to hide behind, making the heat shine down on you. 

It didn’t bother you, though. 

How could you be bothered when you had the perfect guy next to you? The same guy who had been next to you since junior year of high school, as well as the guy who promised you that university wouldn’t change anything between the two of you. Oh, how you wished that were true. You wished you knew how bad things would end. Maybe if you did, you could’ve saved yourself from the heartbreak.

But that was later.

Right now, you were in awe. 

“I knew it was going to be big, but I never imagined New York being this massive,” you say, barely able to catch your breath. “How will we find the time to explore everything before school starts?” 

“We have all summer,” Ethan says as he wraps his arm around your shoulder. The two of you continue to walk down one of the many streets that made up the big city, your eyes looking everywhere in hopes to take everything in all at once. “And even when school starts back up again, we’ll still find time to explore together. We’re going to be fine.”

“You promise?” You ask and tilt your head up to look at him.

Ethan laughed and nodded, leaning down to kiss you quickly. “I promise,”

-

You were three seconds away from pulling your hair out. 

You knew education after high school would be hard but you weren’t aware that it would be this fucking brutal. You were tired and stressed and annoyed and about this close to throwing your textbooks at Sam and Tara as they once again got into another argument. 

Gripping your pen tighter, your mind goes back to Sam’s apologetic smile and her kind words of, “I’m sorry we were so loud earlier. We’ll be more quiet next time, Tara just frustrates me sometimes,” and then fast forward to an hour later when they began bickering again. 

You tried to focus your attention on your school work, but your mind was somewhere else completely. You look over at your phone and debate whether or not to pick it up and send Ethan another text. He probably wouldn’t answer it, anyway, as the last three you’ve sent him had been left on delivered. 

Six whole hours had gone by since you sent the first one, another three since the second and just one since the last. He had to be busy, right? Maybe he was trying to get some work done, too, and turned his phone off or something. 

Still, it would’ve been nice to receive just one text saying that he couldn’t talk right now and that he’d call you later. 

Instead of unlocking your phone when you reach for it, you toss it even further away from you on the bed in hopes the distance would make it so you didn’t feel the need to constantly keep checking it. 

You would just keep disappointing yourself if you were to open your messages and see the same stupid words. 

Delivered an hour ago. Three hours ago. Six hours ago. 

Seriously, what the fuck was he doing that was so important he couldn’t find the time to send a quick text? 

God, when did you turn into this kind of girlfriend? The one who drives herself crazy when she doesn’t receive a text back in a reasonable amount of time? Ethan never gave you a reason not to trust him, so why were you getting so annoyed at his lack of responses? 

You take a deep breath before going back to the notes you took in class today. Though, as soon as you began reading, your phone went off and you grabbed it within seconds. 

Eth <3: hey, sorry for not answering :/ i’ve been stuck in lectures all day and left my phone at the apartment. i just got home now

It was embarrassing how quickly you began typing a response. 

No worries, glad you’re alive

Eth <3: haha

Your brows furrowed at his unusual short response and your thumbs started moving again without a second thought. 

What are you doing now? Want to come save me from The Bickersons? The sisters aren’t getting along at all today

After hitting send, you set your phone back down and go back to reading over your notes, relieved at the fact that you were able to get into contact with your boyfriend.

During the middle of your mini study session, your phone went off again and you were surprised to see that it had been a full forty five minutes since you sent the last text.

Eth <3: sorry, babe, i can’t tonight. i’m going to that frat party with chad 

Eth <3: maybe we can hang out tomorrow?

Disappointment settled in your chest as you read over the two messages again, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Hang out? It seemed weird for your boyfriend to suggest hanging out when he usually always just showed up or sent you a text that let you know he was on the way. There was never any planning, just doing. 

You shake off the weird feeling that bubbled in your chest and answer his text.

That’s okay, I just miss you :) Tomorrow works for me

Eth <3: miss you too <3

You held back a scoff and tossed your phone to the end of your bed. Ethan’s short replies were unusual and made a sinking feeling form in your heart at the very real change that is currently happening in your relationship. 

-

The next day came, and once again you found yourself unable to reach Ethan.

Hey, when did you want to hang out?

You cringed when you sent that text as you never referred to spending time with him as ‘hanging out’.

Half an hour went by before you sent a second text, and another hour before a third. 

Did you want to check out that breakfast place we were talking about?

Are you even awake yet?

You assumed he wasn’t when another hour passed with radio silence on his end. Believing that was better than the alternative; he was ignoring you.

It was hard to believe that a whole twelve hours went by before your phone went off. 

Eth <3: i’m so sorry, i forgot we had plans. i’ve been studying all day for that test on friday so i wasn’t near my phone 

Plans? That’s news to you. 

As far as you knew, Ethan asked you to hang out then completely ghosted you. 

It was then when you found yourself slipping away and not bothering to reach out first anymore. It was a sad realisation that you two would go days without speaking or seeing each other and the only time he would talk to you was when you started a conversation or asked to spend a day with him. 

The effort he was putting in was non-existent and you quickly found yourself putting in less and less effort as well. 

You didn’t know what happened, but you knew when it happened. 

You two were so happy during the summer, but now that school had started again it was as if you were dating a ghost. Though, really thinking about it,  you were sure a ghost would respond to you more than Ethan does at this point.

-

An entire month went by with very little contact between you and Ethan, and to say you were losing hope in the relationship would be the biggest understatement of the century. 

A total of fifteen texts were shared and you had only seen each other nine times. What kind of relationship were you in? It wasn’t normal at all and it wasn’t like either of you to be so distant with each other. You couldn’t help it, though. Ethan had failed to stay on top of replying to texts and it hurt you more than you cared to admit. 

Though, the lack of communication was not just his fault. You had stopped texting him daily and instead only sent him a message every few days, some of which went unanswered completely. Instead of going over to his place or having him come over to yours, you only really saw him in between classes or at a party, and even that was rare. 

Like the other night, both you and Ethan were invited to a frat party without either of you realising it. When you bumped into him and saw your boyfriend for the first time in five days, you were brought back to the good times you used to have with him. It was easy to forget how bad things had gotten.

You ended up staying with him for the rest of the night and the two of you acted like you were in a normal relationship still and ignored the very obvious tension that hung in the air. 

It was nice to pretend for a night.

A day went by and you were back to not communicating once again. And the cycle continued. 

You considered it a miracle when you both found the time to spend a day with each other, though you two were both far from how you used to be. Ethan moved around your apartment with the hesitation of a stranger, and you couldn’t think of one thing to say to him that would start a conversation. 

Now here you were. You were sitting on the couch with Ethan right next to you, yet you felt so far away. There was an overwhelming sinking feeling in your chest and you knew what was coming. It was inevitable at this point, you both felt it. 

It wasn’t working out.

School got in the way.

We’re going in different directions.

We’re just too busy.

It didn’t make you feel any better.

But then again…who actually felt good about ending a relationship where you used to be so happy, one where you two were so good together?

The silence was overwhelming and both of you were too scared to be the first one to talk as you knew that when one of you did…it would be over.  A nearly three year relationship just over. It hurt to think about, let alone allow it to happen. 

With a shaky breath, you look over at him to find him already looking at you. You give him a sad smile and he returns it, refraining from reaching over and taking your hand in his. Instead, he bit back his hesitation and mumbled, “This isn’t working out, is it?”

You look away quickly, biting down on your lower lip as you slowly shake your head. “It’s not,” 

There it was. The end.

Ethan sighed as he played with the sleeves of his henley. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep that promise,” he said quietly. 

Your mind went back to the summertime and his promising words of ‘Even when school starts back up again….we’re going to be fine’. 

But you weren’t fine. 

His apology had your eyes watering and your lip quivering. Turning your head away from him so he wouldn’t see your face, you let a few tears fall. It was too much. You had thought you’d prepared yourself for this. Your relationship this past month was more like a friendship, and you were sure that things would be so different when you were over for good. The only reason you even saw him this month was because you both felt guilty about not putting in enough effort and just decided to push aside the tension and act like everything was fine. 

Would you ever see him again after this?

The thought had another sharp stab pierce your heart.

You shrug your shoulders in response, quickly wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand. “It just got too hard to keep up with. Life got in the way,” you hated the words you were saying as you refused to meet his eyes. “We tried, didn’t we?”

You weren’t sure why you were asking him that as you knew you both put in a poor effort to keep the relationship going. But Ethan knew this too, yet he didn’t want to say the truth, either. “We did,” he completed the lie with a simple nod of his head, something you missed as you still didn’t look over at him. 

The silence returned and you shifted uncomfortably. Never did you ever think you’d be uncomfortable while in the presence of Ethan. Things really have changed. 

In hopes to keep him in your life just a little bit longer, you ask him another question and try to ignore the way your voice cracked, “We were good together, right?”

Ethan’s reply came instantly. “Of course we were,” and it wasn’t a lie. 

Sure, the end of your relationship was hard, but the beginning was amazing, the middle was when you had some of the best days of your life, and the decision to end it was mutual. Not many couples can say that their breakup was mutual. 

You nod at his words, taking a chance and reaching over to grab his hand. Ethan let you as he knew this would be one of the last times he would be able to touch you. 

A teary exchange of smiles later had him getting up and leaving your apartment and finally you were able to bury your head in the pillows to muffle your sobs, the harsh reality of what just happened hitting you hard.

-

Two weeks passed and you weren’t over the breakup. You feared it would take many months for your heart to heal even a little bit, but you were okay with that. The ache you felt when you woke up was bearable as it meant your love was real and it happened. 

Sure, it was over, but it happened. And that was enough to keep you going. 

You skipped a lecture today to stay home and catch up on some reading. Well, you were supposed to be reading but here you were, laying on the couch and scrolling through your phone with the book open on your chest. 

That Summer in New York <3

You don’t know how many times you’ve read that caption of your last post with Ethan on your Instagram. The various photos did nothing to soothe the ache in your heart, but they did bring you the smallest bit of comfort.

The post was from the same day Ethan promised you’d be fine when school started, and the memory of that day was what kept you going. It was a good day, one filled with laughs, love and exploring the big city with your boyfriend. It was hard to think of that day being one of the last good ones you had with him.

Fuck, you missed him. Just like how you felt during the last stretch of your relationship, you felt worse now that it was truly over. 

The amount of times you had to stop yourself from texting him were countless, though the high twenties would be your guess. You hadn’t seen him since the breakup, with the exception of his past self in the photos on your page, and all you wanted to do was check if he was okay. Was he sad like you? Happy? Fine?

Like yours, his Instagram was still full of posts of the two of you as it seemed like he, too, couldn’t bring himself to delete them. It brought you the smallest amount of joy to know that the wound was still fresh to him like it was to you. 

Your mind went back to before you two were even dating and you realised that you started out as friends. That got you thinking; if you were friends before your relationship, who says you can’t be friends after it?

And with that, you open your texts and type out a message before you could stop yourself. 

Hey! I was thinking about you today and wanted to know if you were wanting to get together sometime? As friends :) I miss you and don’t want to not have you in my life

Before you could tell yourself that you sounded too desperate, your thumb hit send and you were left with the same message that used to haunt you.

Delivered one minute ago. 

It was only ten minutes later when your phone went off and you sat up quickly, setting the book down and grabbing your phone from off the coffee table. 

Ethan: you read my mind

Ethan: i miss you, too

The smile that formed on your lips was the biggest you’ve had in months and you quickly typed back a reply, not caring  at how needy it made you look. 

Great, we’ll set something up for the end of the week? 

A reply never came as quick as his. 

Ethan: definitely, can’t wait

You were now in a much better mood as you stood up from the couch and peaked your head in Tara’s room. She was on her bed, playing on her phone when she looked over and immediately sat up. “Hey, Y/n,” she said, the smile on your face making one form on hers. She hadn’t seen you look this happy in a while, so she wasn’t about to decline when you asked her if she wanted to go get brunch together. 

Tara was beyond excited to see your true, happy self slowly coming back. She knew how hard the breakup hit you and to see you begin to put yourself back together had a permanent smile on her face. 

Fall was just around the corner and the air was chilly, but that was the last thing on your mind as Tara guided you towards the new restaurant that had recently opened. She went there with Chad and couldn’t stop talking about how good the food was.

You listened with a smile on your face but within seconds your legs stop moving and your smile drops. 

Tara, who continued rambling about the food, stopped walking when she realised you were no longer next to her. She backtracks and stands next to you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “What? What is it?”

You were looking off in the distance, unable to answer her as you felt tears spring to your eyes. Tara furrowed her brows at that and tried to see what you were looking at, and when she did, her hold on you tightened. 

On the opposite side of the street was Ethan.

You knew the first time you saw him after the breakup would hurt, but you assumed it would be because of a completely different reason than the one you felt now. 

You assumed it would hurt because you hadn’t seen him in weeks and you missed him, not because he was currently locking lips with a girl. 

“Y/n,” Tara said quietly, her hand moving down to properly hold yours. Tara had a feeling that the reason you were so happy was because of Ethan and a possible reconciliation, so seeing this had her mind going blank and her jaw locking. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off the scene and you watch as Ethan’s hands grip the girl’s waist and she leans further into the kiss. Her hands caress the sides of his face as she moves closer to him and that was when you decided you’d seen enough. 

Tara tugged you away and you let her. The two of you turn your back to your ex as she guides you back in the direction of your apartment, missing the way Ethan pulled away just in time to see you walk around the corner.

[maximoff-forevermore]

Tumblr Wrapped: BLORBOS!!

thank you sm for the tag @healmydesires 💋🫶🫶

tumblr wrapped canva template<3

i have SO much to say, but then again, i always do

i’ll start with my top five, and then do some honourable mentions because five fics is NOT a big enough list for me

1. Red Light by @kiwisbell

you may NEVER hear me stop talking about this fic. EVER. Red Light!Joel has taken up more headspace than anything else in a good long while, and i’ve reread this fic so many times if you asked me to rewrite it from memory i probably could, but i wouldn’t, because i’d never do it the justice kiwi did. this fic basically belongs to me, because no one can love it as much as me. i could go on and on, but there’s not enough time in the world.

2. The Dress Series by @janaispunk

can i let y’all in on a secret? i got the outrageous honour of talking to jana about the third part in this series, it’s like getting a shoutout from an artist winning a grammy, only better. this series restarted my obsession with dave, and i’ve had such brainrot about him since i started. LORD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL it’s so good, and the taylor titles GOD.

3. Las Mañanas by @kiwisbell

i had to be very careful, or else every fic on my top five list would be one of kiwi’s and people would think i’m biased (i am, just a little). so i only chose my two favourites, and this series was one of them. it brought so much light and life to the minutes i spent reading it, and i just had the best time!! javi my beloved, you have such a special place in my cold, dead heart, you wife-loving POOKIE!!

4. The In My Hometown Series by @swiftispunk

A SERIES INSPIRED BY ‘TIS THE DAMN SEASON *buries face into pillow and screams* ‘tis the damn season is one of my all time favourite songs, and it was done SUCH JUSTICE. this fic had just the right amount of everything, and i’m so grateful i got to read it!!

5. Punishment by @joelsgreys

OOOOOH HOT DAMN. there was something about this fic that made me drool, because hELLO JOEL MILLER?? gods that man is FINE AS FUCK, and this fic so perfectly captures that😫😫 i had the time of my fucking life reading it, and it was so SO worth every second. my next, pls joel🙏

those fics have such a special place in my heart, but so do many others, let’s go through them!!

Is It Over Now? by @planet-marz1 OH this one is my SHIT!!! angst is so delicious for twelve months of the year, and this one shot was me being FED. i loved every minute, and fuck joel, not in the horny way this time🙄

Sexfiles.mp3 by @beskarandblasters tim rockford, the grandma investigator, and love of my life WHERE have you been all this time?? this fic gave me that alligator-jiggling fever

the Seams series by @fuckyeahdindjarin MY BELOVED POOKIES!!!! i love lucy to the ends of the earth, and joel and pins have the CUTEST fucking relationship on the planet

A Lover’s Pinch series by @hier--soir pull me out of the dumpster and fuck me sideways GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO??? gods the sex is just so BXKANDIWNSKW clawing at my fucking WALLS!!!! i haven’t finished this series yet but when i do you may NEVER hear the fucking end of me🗣️🗣️

the Pretty Little Wife series by @beardedjoel OH MAMA, i need a fan because it is HOT AS HELL in here😫😫these fics give me such housewife-fever, i love them just a bit TOO much

Real Gods Require Blood, by @pr0ximamidnight you guys have no FUCKING idea how obsessed i am with this fic. the minute it’s possible to make fics into physical things, i will turn this fic into cocaine and snort it faster than you can scream “he’s evil!”, and even if you did scream it, i wouldn’t care, because WOW is he hot as hell

Feelings on Fire by @joelscruff CAN WE TALK ABOUT IT. CAN WE TALK ABOUT IT. CAN WE—im so obsessed. and i don’t mean that lightly. this series has CHANGED ME. i am moved. i am reborn. i am SOMETHING ELSE. i can’t get over this series i’m not sorry, it’s just so so SO good

and last, but definitely NOT least, Truth or Dare, ALSO by @joelscruff I’M SO UNWELL. I NEED HIM. I NEED THIS. I AM IN DIRE, DESPERATE NEED OF THIS FIC. it’s so so close to my heart, i actually physically cannot get over it. like, guys, GUYS. this fic is such a go-to of mine, and so close to my heart.

and that was my long, long, LONG list, but honestly, i’m not even halfway done. so many fics and so many fic writers have changed my life, and if i was less tired and had more energy to type, i’d list them all<3

all the love to every single fic writer out there, you are doing the most, and if you need someone to read something you’ve written or you think i’ll enjoy something, don’t hesitate to send it my way!!

tagging everyone who wants to participate!!!

as always, my obligatory taylor gifs:

[atinylittlepain]

PART TWO

marcus pike x f!reader

no masterlist for this man, good luck to this man - read part one tho it's fun

warnings | 18+ smut, sucking and fucking and also angst, mentions of sex work, marcus is a freak ass sugar daddy with a cunty lil blackberry and a bmw vroom vroom

note: this is OLD, this is from the ARCHIVE, leave me alone and also i love you muah kiss for you

@idolatrybarbie come get your juice

....................................

People are staring. Backpacks held in slack hands, necks craned around to catch a glimpse of the beemer pulled up at the curb outside the library, sleek silver rims glinting in the afternoon light. But it’s the man leaning up against the side of the car that’s really piquing people’s interest. 

“Hey, baby, you ready to go?” A kiss to her cheek before his lips catch hers, a quick smack that she doesn’t let deepen under so many watchful eyes.

“Hi, Marcus, thank you for picking me up, but you could’ve just met me at my apartment, it’s no big deal.” He scoffs at that, his aviators slipping down his nose as he squints at her.

“You know I don’t like you riding public transportation, it’s not–” She cuts him off with another kiss, rubbing her palm up and down the lapel of his suit jacket.

“Not safe, I know. But I’ve been getting around just fine on the bus for a while now and I’ve yet to get murdered. So I don’t think you have to worry about it.” He chuckles, pressing his sunglasses back up before opening the passenger side door for her, all ease as he leans over the top of the door to steal one more kiss as she ducks into the BMW. 

​​Things have been different, and good, since she met Marcus. She had been a bit surprised when he called only a few hours after he dropped her off at her apartment that morning.

“Do I look like a complete dope calling you this soon?” 

“I kinda like it actually. You aren’t one to play games, huh?” A laugh crackling over the phone and a sigh.

“I guess I have a bit of a one-track mind. When I want something I gotta go after it– and I just sounded like a total tool saying that, didn’t I?” 

“Coming from anyone else, I’d say yes. But I think you’re a little too sweet to really be a tool. So, are you gonna ask me out or what?” Another laugh, her smile broadening at the sound.

“You’re gonna be the boss here, aren’t you?”“Count on it, babe.”

It’s been a little over a month since he called, and they’ve been seeing each other a lot, enough for her to have learned a considerable amount more about Marcus Pike. First and foremost, he’s a romantic, almost painfully so, flowers and good morning texts, dates to the arthouse theater to see classic movies about love triumphant, followed by meals at restaurants that could wipe her rent money for the month with one main course. That’s the second thing she’s learned about him, he likes to take care of her. It had started innocently enough, after the first time he took her to one of those aforementioned swanky restaurants and she expressed concern that she had stuck out like a sore thumb in the upscale space, it feeling impossible for her to dress nice enough to fit in. He had her in the BMW and on the way to a trail of boutiques before she could even protest, and she ended that day with an overwhelming number of shopping bags, tufts of tissue paper stamped with the names of brands she had never dreamed of buying for herself. And it had only escalated from there, from meals out to fresh sets of paint and easels to jewelry dripping in silver and gold, infamous powder blue boxes with satin white bows that always reveal something fit to make her head spin it’s so dazzling. And today is no different, a gift waiting for her on the plush leather of the passenger seat, Marcus glancing at her as he weaves through DC traffic, trying to catch her reaction when she opens it.

“Oh my god, Marcus. It’s– it’s so lovely. It must have cost a fortune, though. I couldn’t possibly–” He cuts her off with a light squeeze to her thigh where his palm is curled, lips crooking in a grin though he keeps his eyes on the road.

“Don’t worry about that. Just wanted to get you something nice. And I was thinking you could wear it tonight to dinner, if you like it?” How this man manages to thread confidence with his shyness is still beyond her, an endearing combination that only makes her want to figure him out more. She leans over the console, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before settling back down in her seat.

“I love it and I’d love to wear it tonight. Thank you.” She holds the bracelet up, letting it catch the fading afternoon light, a perfect string of diamonds glinting and glaring in the sun. It’s the same dance every time, she says she couldn’t possibly, and he tells her she absolutely can, and then she ends up with something shiny and expensive around her wrist, her neck, dangling from her earlobes, or flickering on her fingers. All she can figure is that whatever higher-up government type he is, he must be really really high up to be throwing money around like this. 

“I’ll be back down in a minute, just need to grab my bag and then I’m all yours.” It’s Memorial Day weekend, three whole days off for the both of them, and Marcus has asked her to spend it all with him, something she was more than happy to agree to. 

She pauses for a moment in her bathroom, swiping quick knuckles under her eyes, her week of exams showing in the dark circles resting there, and the late nights at the club certainly aren’t helping either. It’s a touchy subject for them, for him, and she knows it. She tries to reassure him that it’s just business, good money, but it hadn’t been just business with him, and she understands why he always gets a bit stiff when she mentions that she has a shift. 

“All set?” She hums an mmhmm, Marcus taking her bag from her to tuck into the trunk before they get on their way to his place. 

Logan Circle, one of the trendiest neighborhoods in DC, beautiful brownstones framed by sleepy-looking trees and winding parks. It had caught her off guard the first time he brought her over to his place, leading her by the hand up the steps of one of those brownstones, all twining ivy and high-arched windows, all his. He had offered her a sheepish grin and a shrug when she had quirked her eyebrows at him, explaining it away as one of the perks from the Bureau. 

She still feels a bit out of place amongst the sleek, dark wood, though he’s quick to distract her from it with a warm palm on her back and an easy smile.

“Reservation’s at seven so we have a little time to rest up if that sounds good to you?” His hands thread together around her waist, pulling her close enough to lay a kiss to her forehead.

“Is this your very nice way of telling me I look tired?” That’s another thing she’s learned about him, just how easy it is to throw him off, make him blush, a nervous laugh bubbling up in his chest.

“No, I just know how hard you’ve been working lately to get your school year wrapped up and– and at the club–” She gives him a look that he knows means don’t start. He had brought it up last week over the phone, when she couldn’t say yes to dinner plans because of a shift at Pandora’s.

“Well what if– what if you didn’t have to work anymore?” 

“That’d be amazing, and while we’re at it, I’d also like a unicorn. It’s just not a possibility for me right now, Marc, I’m sorry.” 

“But what if it was a possibility? I mean, what if I–”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I have a pretty good idea actually. And my answer is no. Thank you, Marcus, really, but I’m not letting you spend any more money on me than you already are. I’m a big girl, baby, I can handle myself.” 

He had let out a huff at that, but had begrudgingly let it go, though he has been dropping hints all week about his discontent with how much she’s still working, subtle, but prickly. But he holds his tongue now, smile simpering beneath his scruff as she slips her palms from his chest up to twine behind his neck.

“What I really want right now is a long shower. I feel like I’m covered in goo from the kids I was working with today.” His smile broadens at that, one of his hands slipping up to ghost along her collarbone

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but–” He gently scrapes his thumbnail along the top of her sternum, bringing away flecks of dried paint that she groans at.

“Oh my god, how did I miss that? I swear, these practicum hours make me rethink my career choice every time.” It’s an easy moment, a sigh and a smile shared that’s abruptly interrupted by his phone ringing, shoulders slumping as he reaches into his suit pocket to pull out his thrumming Blackberry, offering her a sheepish smile when he checks the caller ID before answering it.

“This is Agent Pike.” She presses a kiss to the corner of his jaw before slipping out of his hold as he starts talking quietly to whoever it is on the other end of the phone, showing herself upstairs with her bag in hand. She knows her way around by now, padding into his bedroom, only a little surprised by the garment bag laid out on his bed, shoebox resting on the ground next to it.

Just a peek, she unzips the garment bag, letting her hand run over the fabric inside, and quickly realizes that wherever they’re going to dinner tonight must be fancy, black silk slipping underneath her palm. She’ll have to scold him for it later, but for now, she’s too focused on washing off whatever little kid shmutz she managed to pick up during the day, making a beeline for his bathroom to get the water warmed up. 

She groans when she steps under the warm water, sore muscles unraveling with the heat. There had been a few clients this week who had been particularly physical, and she’s certainly feeling it now. It’s rare for her to have to end a session early, most clients respectful and happy to follow the club’s rules, but one man in particular had obviously not been interested in being compliant, so much so that she had to call her boss in to escort him off the premises. She hadn’t been too phased by it though, just pissed more than anything else. But she’s been doing this for long enough to not let these things affect her, letting the majority of her good, easy to work with clients drown out the rare rotten one. And it isn’t like she’s going to be doing this for much longer either. One more year of school and she’ll be able to trade in her time at the club for a teaching license and a much different life. 

“Did that happen at work?” She all but jumps out of her skin, Marcus’ voice startling her out of her thoughts as she turns to find him slipping into the shower with her, his bareness still sending her mind into a sweet haze. But she’s quick to snap out of it when his hand brushes over the bruise blooming on her thigh, his brow furrowing even more when she winces at the sensation.

“Oh, that? Um, yeah, but it’s no big deal, someone just got a little too worked up, that’s all.” He doesn’t like that one bit, his jaw shifting in a grind as he looks at her.

“Is it– are you ok?” She offers him a smile, tugging him closer so she can slip her palms over his chest, his hands settling on the curve of her waist.

“I’m fine, Marc, I promise. No harm, no foul.”

“Looks like harm to me.” He says it absentmindedly, his eyes still trained on the bruise, words a low murmur, his nostrils flaring as he takes a sharp inhale. 

“Hey, I said I’m fine, alright? Let’s get cleaned up, babe, don’t worry about it.” She knows it’s a bit of a move, leaning in for a kiss that she easily deepens, trying to steer his mind away from worry and succeeding when she coaxes a little groan out of him with the way she tugs at his hair. But he’s not interested in pulling away too soon, licking hotly into her mouth, swallowing the gasp she lets out when her back meets the cold tile of the shower, a heady contrast to the way his body presses against her, slick and warm in the rising steam. He’s certainly gotten more confident with her, and while she likes this side of him, wandering hands and hard kisses, it’s the shyness that still peeks through that makes her heart flip in her chest.

“Wanna taste you. Can I, please?” She slicks his wet mop of hair back out of his face, a smile crooking across her lips as she nods.

“Mmhmm, I’m all yours. Want you to make me feel good.” She hadn’t been expecting him to drop down to his knees right then and there, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up in her chest when he does, his hands holding her firm and steady by her hips as he lays open-mouthed kisses across her stomach. But that laugh fizzles out when he dips his head lower, letting his mouth drag over the bruise on her thigh, making her cry out when he presses a hard kiss to it, like he’s trying to stamp it out with his lips. He doesn’t linger there long, laying a much sweeter kiss over the mottled skin before letting his mouth slide up to where she really wants him.

…

“Can you do me up?” She watches him in the mirror as he steps behind her, a low hum in his throat as he slips the zipper of her dress up. It’s perfect, classy, a smooth, simple slip that rests just at her shins and practically drips off the curves of her body it fits so well. He always gets it right, and she’s always surprised that he does. 

“You look beautiful. And I have one thing to add.” She catches the glint of it in the mirror, his hands arcing over her head to bring the delicate necklace to rest against her clavicle. A string of diamonds that matches her bracelet. Before she can say anything, he presses a kiss to the side of her neck, his hands dropping down to smooth over her hips.

“Look like a million bucks, baby.”

“I better not be wearing a million bucks right now.” She says it jokingly, but when he doesn’t respond, only quirking an eyebrow at her, she turns in his hold with a scoff.

“Marcus, I swear to god, if you–”

“I’m kidding. Don’t worry about the cost, huh? Just think of it as a little– end of the school year gift, that’s all.” All she can do is let out a sigh, getting to work on his loose tie as he looks down through his lashes at her. He looks like a million bucks too, sleek, black suit over a crisp button-up, the scent of his cologne wrapping her up as she shimmies his tie into place.

“Well, thank you for the gifts. If your goal is to spoil me completely rotten, I’d say you’re succeeding.” His smile turns into a grin at that, stealing a quick kiss as she smooths down the collar of his shirt.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now c’mon, knowing you, you probably worked right through lunch and are starving right now. Let’s get some dinner in you.”

…

“Please follow me this way, Mr. and Mrs. Pike, your table is ready for you.” She nearly chokes at what the waiter calls them, though Marcus takes it in stride, offering her a smile and shrug as he guides her further into the restaurant with a palm on her low back. 

She was right, it’s fancy as hell, all dim lights and rich, wood tables, men in suits and their wives decked out in their finest. And it only dawns on her that they fit right in once they’re actually seated at their own table, her eyes glancing around at this strange game of adult dress-up. 

“We’ll do a bottle of your Riesling and one of your Shiraz as well, thank you.” White for her, red for him, he doesn’t even have to look at the menu to put in the order, and she can’t figure out just why that’s so hot. 

“Did you hear about that new installment coming downtown? They’re calling it a revival of abstract expressionism meets modern minimalism. Apparently it’s hot.” She grins at the dramatic wag of his eyebrows as he speaks, leaning in closer to respond.

“I hadn’t heard about that, no. Sounds like whoever it is, they’re trying to do it all. We’ll have to go check it out, huh?” An outsider looking in on their relationship would be hard pressed to figure out just why they mesh well together, a decade apart and coming from two completely different worlds. But they come together well in peculiar ways, art being one of them. Marcus could talk for hours about the history, styles and forms rising and falling with time, and she can too, while also applying it all in her own work as a painter, something that he loves to hear her talk about, her process and projects. She’s still not sure why he’s so well-versed in it all, with such a keen eye, especially given her very vague understanding of his work as some sort of big wig FBI boss, but she loves that they can talk like this about something that bores most of her friends. They’ve gone out gallery hopping a few times together and, grand gestures and fancy dinners aside, it’s probably her favorite thing to do with him, wandering around downtown and seeing whatever art they can find.

Dinner starts to pass languidly by as they slip into conversation about the new gallery opening, unfurling into her own projects that she’s hoping to submit for showings once they’re finished. But as dessert is laid before them and her attention is drawn away from Marcus for a moment, her eyes land on someone across the restaurant, and her stomach sinks. While Marcus thanks the waiter, she can’t take her eyes off the man across the room, sitting with his wife, wearing the same suit he had on when he came into the club earlier that week, the same suit he left in when her boss kicked him out for not following the rules. And in a sickening twist, his eyes meet hers, an all too clear flash of recognition behind the smug grin that spreads across his face. 

“Are you ok?” Marcus’ voice snaps her attention back to him and she tries to coax a smile onto her face, though she can’t help the way her eyes jerk over his shoulder and back to the man who’s still staring her down. And when she gives him no answer, Marcus finally cranes his neck around to see just what it is she keeps looking at.

“Do you– do you know him?” He looks back over his shoulder at the man who has finally stopped staring now that it’s caught Marcus’ attention. But before she can make some sort of excuse up, Marcus’ face falls in clear realization.

“Oh, I see. He’s one of your clients, isn’t he?” 

“Fortunately, not anymore, he’s not.” It comes out before she can even think to stop herself, something dark flashing across Marcus’ face at her words.

“Are you telling me he’s the one who did that to you?” She doesn’t need an explanation to know what he means when he says that, her hand subconsciously going to rest over her thigh where the bruise lies beneath her dress. She feels frozen in place, her mind going blank as Marcus stares at her, his jaw hard-set and his eyes swimming. And when she gives him no response, he scoffs, turning in his seat, clearly ready to get up and march across the restaurant to where the man and his wife are just getting up to leave.

“Marc, don’t. Just– for me, please, don’t.” She wills him to stay in his seat with her hand placed over his on the table, letting out a sigh when he ultimately turns back around with a huff.

Total silence and downturned eyes, he’s quick to get the check and get them on their way back to his house. A cold prickle runs up her spine as they drive when his hand that normally rests easy and warm on her thigh remains on the wheel, not even a glance her way, his jaw ticking with what she can only assume is anger. And when they do get back to his place, and the silence continues, Marcus going into the kitchen to fix himself a drink without so much as looking at her, she assumes that it’s finally become too much for him, that she had been stupid to think this could work. She quickly and quietly slips into his bedroom, first placing her shoes back in the wrapping-paper-lined box before unfastening her bracelet and necklace and laying them on his dresser, though she figures they were never really hers to begin with. Her bag next, tucking back inside the things she had already unpacked before getting to work on the zipper of her dress. 

“What are you doing?” She turns to find him standing in the doorway, lips parted and brow furrowed, and suddenly a thick heat creeps up her throat, stealing any strength from her voice.

“I thought I should probably go.” His face scrunches up at that and he steps further into the room, closing the distance between them, though he hesitates to reach for her, his hands flexing by his sides. 

“What do you– what do you mean go? Where are you going?” 

“Home, Marcus, I’m going home. I understand if this is too much–” 

“That’s not– it’s not too much. I just– I hate it, ok? I really fucking hate it.” His tone is sharp, clipped, an edge of frustration that she hasn’t heard from him before and it makes her pause before asking him the only thing she can think of.

“My work? That’s what you mean? You hate my work?” He drags a hand through his hair, letting out a hard exhale as he shakes his head.

“I mean– yes. I hate that you have to put up with shit like that, with men like that. I hate that I lie in bed at night wondering what you’re doing and what person you’re doing it with, or to– fuck, I hate all of it. But I think what I hate the most is that you feel like you have to do it. And you’re too proud to let me get you out of it, something that I would be beyond elated to do, by the way.” Finished with his rant, he lets out a bitter laugh, the sound only fueling the anger she feels rising like bile in her throat.

“Oh, so what? Your solution is for you to just swoop in and– and play the fucking hero? Are you gonna put me on retainer, Marcus? Is that your plan? Just throw money at me so I’ll fucking stick around?” It’s awful, poison on her tongue that she doesn’t even mean, not really, and when he looks at her, face stricken and eyes glistening, any fire fizzles out into a sad whimper in her throat. 

“Is that really what you think of me? That I’m just, what? Trying to buy you?” She keeps her mouth pressed in a thin line, afraid of what might come spilling out if she doesn’t, watching him slump down on the edge of the bed with a tired laugh.

“I just want to take care of you, that’s it. And I have the means to do it and fuck, I’m sorry if that comes across as me throwing money at you. But this is what I know how to do. I can take care of you, and I want to, and I wish that you’d let me.” Silence settles between them, thick and formless. Looking at him, his face tilted down to his hands in his lap, the curve of his frown, she feels herself being tugged toward something that, deep down, she knows is a terrible idea. 

Barefoot, her half-unzipped dress hanging loosely on her shoulders, she pads over to him, standing between his legs, though he doesn’t look up until she coaxes him with her palm tucked along his jaw. 

“I’m sorry, Marcus. That wasn’t fair, what I said. I just– I need you to try to understand this from my perspective. If I did– if I let you take care of me like that, I couldn’t help but feel trapped, and I’m sorry, I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but it has to be said. I’d feel like you’d have this– this thing hanging over my head and–” “I would never hold anything against you. That’s not how I work, and this isn’t some game to me. Fuck, I think you’re brilliant, alright? And I want you, so badly. I want you safe, and not having to worry about all this shit. I want you with me.” 

“But what happens when you don’t want me anymore? What happens when I’ve quit my job and I’m dependent on you and one day you decide that you’re done with this, with me? What happens when the floor falls out from under me, Marc?” 

“I’m not going to let that happen.” She can’t help the scoff she lets out, her hand falling away from his face as she takes a few steps back. 

“That’s really easy to say right now, but one day this isn’t all going to be so new. What happens–” He cuts her off, standing up and taking her face in his hands, his eyes clear with a confidence that makes her shiver.

“If that time comes when either of us want to walk away, you have my word that I will make sure you land on your feet. I wouldn’t let you fall like that, I wouldn’t do that to you.” They’re nice words, words she wants to believe, though she can’t shake that feeling in her stomach like she’s about to go into complete free-fall. 

“I’m asking you to trust me, that’s all.”

“That’s a lot, Marc.” His thumb is a soothing arc along her cheek, and she feels that same pull toward whatever this brink is that she’s about to tip over with him.

“I know, fuck, I know. But if you let me, I will give you everything, anything you want, anything you need. I just need you to trust me.” There’s nothing but certainty in his expression, and although there’s a part of her that wants to step away, to get out before she’s tangled up, she chooses not to listen to it, instead stepping over that edge and sending them both spiraling as she closes the space between them and presses her lips to his. 

Where he deals in diamonds and dresses and dollars, care of a particular kind, she holds sway in sweat and skin and sensation, a delicate balance of power held in each other’s palms. Here, now, in the dim light of his bedroom, she holds dominion, no permission needed for the way her hands coax his tie undone, his jacket off, layer upon layer removed as she wills it. And when he finally stands before her in just his briefs, she guides his hands to the straps of her dress, letting him do the rest as the sleek fabric slips into a puddle around her feet. It never gets old, the way he looks at her, how his eyes darken, flickering heavy and hooded over her body, the way his throat bobs when his gaze finally finds hers.

“Could you– will you, um, will you wear those, for me?” He nods his head over to his dresser, to where she had laid out the jewelry he gave her, and she finds herself smiling at his timid request.

“Why don’t you put them back on me, baby?” He does, first clasping the bracelet around her wrist, laying a kiss to the jump of her pulse before delicately laying the necklace against her sternum, the cool bite of the chain causing her to shiver as he takes a step back to look at her, now dressed in nothing but a pair of panties and those glittering gifts.

“Lay down for me.” His eyes don’t leave her as he does, catching every move as she slips her panties down her legs before crawling up the bed to settle in his lap, her thighs framing his hips. It’s smooth and simple, a call and response in the way he tilts his chin up to meet her dipping down, open mouths willing and receiving of what the other is giving, a hot press of tongues and teeth. She grinds her hips down hard, letting the slick heat of her cunt drag over his boxers, his cock already straining against the fabric. 

“Tell me what you want, baby, and it’s all yours.” She seals her words with a nip of her teeth over the hinge of his jaw, smiling against his skin when he lets out a long sigh as she continues to roll her hips with his.

“Just want you, fuck, wanna feel you, wanna be inside you, please.” Her smile goes cheshire bright at his breathless words, and she lets her hands slip down to drag along the waistband of his boxers.

“Always so polite for me, Marcus. Love that about you, gonna give you what you want.” A tap of her fingers to his hip is all he needs to shift so she can shrug his boxers down his legs, his cock resting flushed and heavy against his stomach as she settles herself back in a straddle over his hips, hovering just over where he really wants her. She can only tease him so much when she wants him just as bad as he wants her, so she wastes no time in bringing her palm to his throbbing length, dragging the tip of him through her dripping cunt before sinking down on him in one, languid, stretch. They both let out sighs that slip into moans as she stills with her hips seated against his, his fingers tensing and flexing into the curve of her ass where his hands are splayed. Still settling into the feel of him, a fullness that makes her head swim, she lays a smattering of kisses into his hair, coaxing his face up from where he had his forehead pressed against her sternum, his lips finding hers in a hot drag as she starts to move her hips. 

It starts slow and sweet, finding an easy rhythm of riding him that has them both sighing at the slick drag. Marcus dips his head down, mouthing at the tops of her breasts, making her gasp when his teeth graze over the peak of one of her nipples, her back arching into his touch. But she snaps that sweetness into a snarl all at once, dragging her fingers back through his hair, tugging harshly to tilt his head back, a groan breaking in his chest as she starts to bounce on his dick.

“Want you to listen to me while I fuck you, baby, can you do that for me?” He nods his head as best he can with her fingers still tangled in his hair, holding his gaze steady on her.

“Yes, fuck– I can– can listen, just, please keep doing that.” She grinds her hips down on a particularly hard bounce, his eyes rolling back in his head as she continues to ride him.

“I’m gonna trust you. I’m choosing to trust you. But let me make a few things very clear to you.” She tries to keep her voice steady, stern, though it still comes out a bit breathless with the way she’s working herself on his throbbing cock, biting back a whimper as he grazes that just right spot inside her.

“I am not going to be your pet, do you understand me? That’s not what this is going to be. If you want a kept woman, find someone else.” He lets out a slurred chant of ok and I understand intermixed with a few choice curses, his blunt fingernails digging half-moons into her ass, hips canting up to meet hers with each bounce.

“I like you, a lot. And I want to be with you, fuck– and I’m grateful for what you’re giving me–” A broken moan keeps her from finishing her sentence, sensation starting to make her thoughts swim when he plants his feet into the mattress to start thrusting harder, their hips mashing together every time, pleasure settling heavy and tight in her spine.

“But I’m still going to work– not at Pandora’s– but a more, christ– normal job. Making my own money. I’m not going to be some– credit-card swiping– spoiled little– trophy girlfriend.” Each phrase is said with another pass of her hips, both of them letting out sharp gasps with each thrust, and she holds it together just long enough to get out what she wants to say, finally letting go of her grip in his hair, instead pressing her palms into his chest to get him to lay down fully as she seeks out that snapping point of pleasure. Marcus brings a hand around, his thumb finding her clit in a hot drag that sets a moan loose in her chest, her cunt spasming around his cock.

“I understand, I do, I swear. Please, baby, wanna feel you– want you to come so bad. Let me have it– let me have it all.” She unravels with his rasped-out pleas, back arching in a perfect curl of pleasure as his hands guide her in a close grind, following after her with a clipped groan of her name, the warmth of him making her shudder as she slumps down against his chest. They lay like that for a while, skin sticking slick, their heaving chests pressing against each other in a shared rhythm as he runs his palms up and down her spine. A silent understanding sealed in sweat and salt.

“So you’ll– you’re gonna stay?” She could laugh, it’s such a ridiculous question for him to ask after she just all but rode him to hell. But when she lifts her head to meet his gaze, seeing the very serious scrunch of his brows, that laugh dies in her throat with the realization that he’s genuinely asking, and genuinely worried about the answer. Ducking down, she first presses a kiss to his chest before leaning back up to slot her lips with his, simple and sweet.

“I’m not going anywhere, Marcus, I promise.”

…

“Are you gonna get that?” Marcus looks at her over the rim of his coffee mug, brow quirking at her question. 

“Why don’t you go see who it was?” She snorts at that, watching his eyes flicker as he takes another swig of coffee.

“Uh, I’m not wearing pants. And also, I’m not the one who lives here.” He’s putting on a show, she knows it, humming as if in thought at her statement, the corners of his lips twitching in a stifled smile.

“It’s early, baby, no one’s gonna see. Just go take a look for me, huh?” He can no longer hold back his grin, going all crooked with whatever scheme he’s got cooked up for her. 

“Alright, fine, I’ll play along. But you’re cheesy, you know that, right?” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She huffs at him, finally getting up from the kitchen table to pad over to the front door. She figures it’s probably flowers, or maybe another garment bag for whatever he has planned for them today. Not wanting to give Marcus’ neighbors a show, she cracks the door just enough to peek her head out, her jaw dropping at what she sees.

“Oh my god.” Silver, glossy, and gleaming in the early morning light. A sleek silhouette, and that unmistakable hood ornament perched right over the front grille, the Mercedes Benz insignia shining proudly. And on the roof of the car sits the biggest, gaudiest red bow she’s ever seen. 

“What do you think?” She turns around to find Marcus standing behind her, a set of car keys dangling from one of his fingers, grinning from ear to ear. 

“I think you’re lucky you’re cute. Seriously, Marcus, this is– this is–” He cuts her off with a smacking kiss, pressing the car keys into her hand as he does.

“This is me taking care of you. No more metrorail, no more bus. You’re gonna be a woman who drives from now on.” 

“I– you– you’re not gonna take no for an answer, are you?” He tilts his head at her, eyes crinkling up as he slips his arm around her waist, pulling her away from the door and into his chest.

“On this? No, no I’m not.” It’s just a touch of arrogance, in the slant of his smile, the way he hums a laugh when she shakes her head at him, giving a half-hearted smack to his chest. 

“Hmm, well aren’t you something else.”

“Oh baby, I’m just getting started.”

[jesterwriting]

Happy 200 Followers! 🎉🎉

To celebrate 200 followers, I wanted to do something fun <33 For the next couple of weeks, I’ll be doing a little music / lyric based event!! This is the first time I’ve ever done something like this, so please, bear with me. That said, I’m incredibly excited to test this out, and if all goes well, I’m open do doing more events in the future!

My regular rules still apply, so keep that in mind and give them a little read. You can find them here!

- As a reminder, I tend to stick to gender neutral and male readers, but I’m willing to write female reader if requested specifically. However, I do reserve the right to default to gender neutral reader if I can’t find a way to organically incorporate gender into the fic :3

These are the characters I write for: Ace, Law, Koby, Zoro, Sanji, Crocodile, Shanks, Mihawk, Nami, Robin, Smoker, Tashigi, Buggy, Boa Hancock

- Please only send one character per prompt. I’m open to doing the same character multiple times, though! Especially if they’re my fav >:3

- To make a request, send in the name of the song the lyric is from and the name of the character you want for it. Make sure I know this is for the event in your ask! I can be a little dense at times, hehe.

- You’re welcome to be specific for a request, such as specifying if you want fluff or angst, or if you’d prefer the lyric to relate more to the reader or to the character you’ve requested!

- All that said, have fun and go crazy! I’m excited and i hope you are too <33 Have a wonderful day, and thank you for reading and/or requesting!! If you have any questions, feel free to ask or DM me and I’ll happily clarify :3

- Update: Just to clarify, I don’t do doubles of the same prompt. I don’t wanna get overwhelmed with the amount of requests! So, once a prompt is requested, I strike it through and it’s done :3

bad idea right?

↝ ”yes i know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect? i only see him as a friend (the biggest lie i ever said)”

↝ buggy x reader

red flags

↝ “the best movie of all, the masterpiece of art called: human centipede!”

↝ robin x reader

cowboy casanova

↝ “he’s a good time cowboy casanova, leaning up against the record machine.”

↝ cowboy!ace x reader

bitter water

↝ “i am not a fool entire, no i know what’s coming. you’ll bury me beneath the tree i climbed when i was a child.”

↝ boa hancock x reader

maybe

↝ “you loved me holy with your cross and your disease. did you feel that close to god when you had me on my knees?”

↝ crocodile x reader

anniversary

↝ “giving you up? what are you on about? never give up believing in us.”

↝ sanji x reader

quiet

↝ “i’m not yours, and you’re not mine, but we can sit and pass the time. no fighting wars, no ringing chimes, we’re just feeling fine.”

like a dog

↝ “and so my soul could soar with my heart on the altar of science, like an obedient dog.”

recover

↝ “i’ll give you one more chance to say we can change or part ways. and you take what you need, and you don’t need me.”

the vampire waltz

↝ “oh, i feel it being drawn out, the blood flowing steadily into your mouth. this dark night, cruel and cold, you whisper softly, ‘honey, you’ll never grow old.’”

↝ vampire!sanji x reader

bridezilla

↝ “i’m gonna run down the aisle and tongue kiss the priest, dance on your mother like an eight-legged freak. i’m gonna stuff my face and eat the whole damn cake. baby, i can’t wait for my perfect wedding day!”

alien, alien

↝ “alien, that’s right, i’m you alien! your heartstrings pulled and deftly lulled, i’ve caught a shooting star.”

↝ crocodile x reader

dangerous thing

↝ “something about you is soft like an angel, and something inside you is violence and danger. i knew from the moment we met, you are a dangerous thing.”

↝ law x reader

me and my husband

↝ “and i am the idiot with the painted face, in the corner taking up space. but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved.”

↝ law x transmasc!reader

like the dawn

↝ “you were the brightest shade of sun when i saw you. and surely, you will be the death of me, but how could i have known?”

↝ mihawk x reader, fluff

halloweenie v: the moss king

↝ “i am the moss king, here in your house. you sing the song with your wicked mortal mouth. sing to me sweetly, call to me now. there’s a hundred hauntin’ spirits in the trees lookin’ down.”

↝ zoro x reader

[dinitride-art]

Byler Fic Rec Week Day Two: S5 Speculation. Okay, so I missed day one because I was busy but. I’m gonna do todays! Also, some of these have longer descriptions than others and that is solely because I can figure out how to describe what’s going on with some of these fics more than the others. They’re all fantastic. I’m the problem here lol. (and all of these are byler. I swear. It’s just that sometimes the plot of the story is just as important as Mike and Will.)

1. The Secret to Being Unlucky by  lovetriangled 

So, Will’s POV, cool exploration of powers and plot stuff, angst/Will isn’t okay in the slightest, 13k, established byler, and I have read this fic multiple times. 

2. whispers by  dahlia_04, EmeraldTulip

Mike and Will’s POV’s, plot heavy, Will Byers is very not okay, Mike’s going through it too, 9.7k, and it’s got some neat formatting. I’m weak for anything that explores powers/supernatural/sci-fi stuff and this fic has a bit of that going on.

3. heat the pins and stab them in by  clearskiies

Mike’s POV, 13k, and he’s going through it. Get’s targeted by Vecna. You know how it is. A fair amount of Mike thinking about Will too.

4. moth to a flame (or a lightbulb) by  ApatheticLexicographer

Okay, Mike’s POV and my god does he get hit hard with this one. 7k, lots of character exploration and a fair amount of plot in there too, technically like one scene? But it’s really cool. Oh, also, this ones got some horror elements in it. 

5. These feelings are not my own by  Corvi_dae524

Will’s POV, cool power stuff/mechanics, and a funky little accidental emotional mind meld. 4k.

6. Wrong by  jenlouniverse

Multi-chapter, Mike’s POV, Mike really REALLY goes through it, 21.4k, and basically is about Mike not being able to tell what’s real. Which is like plot stuff, but also interesting to see how it all plays out. 

7. Tough tied and oh so squeamish by  Cocalolhh

The POV flips around a bit, 8k, and it’s two chapters and mostly about exploring selective mutism through Mike. It’s not all s5 speculation, but most of it is in a setting that could technically be s5 speculation. But mostly focused on Mike.

8. you were bigger than the whole sky by  delusionaltogether (Whyyyyy)

Mike’s POV, 28k, has a long time skip but is still directly dealing with s5 problems so I think this counts. There’s a lot of plot with sci-fi and at times almost fantasy elements to it. Mike is struggling a whole lot. And it explores hope, love and grief. 

9. The End of the World by  eagle_ace

Mike’s POV, 8.3k, focused on the Party and everything falling apart after season four. The writing style and formatting is also really neat. 

10. I grieve in stereo by  ferngreen

26.2k 1/2 chapters, Mike’s POV, Mike isn’t having a good time but hey. At least he’s got Will. Also a fair amount of plot with this one too, and mostly uses Stranger Things canon sci-fi elements, but along with an exploration of Mike’s character. 

Alright, those are all the fics (most of them, there’s always more hiding somewhere that I’m probably subscribed too but forgot to bookmark lol) I’ve got for this category!

[fatuismooches]

ITS 💌 ANON!! as per usual i come to you with a headcanon at ungodly hours of the night in my time. i’ve been playing too much honkai star rail…BUT!! fluff and angst combo again 🏃 ure the best :(( pls don’t follow my example and get proper rest !! thanks for always being cool hehe

Dottore making a medicine that actually does work!! you can move around like normal, no longer as tired, and ofcourse- Dottore is thrilled. He’s done it, he kisses them and he takes reader everywhere, every single place he wanted to- he checked everything, they were fine…until suddenly, they fainted and he basically finds out that the medicine could only make everything good for a short amount of time before putting reader in the most excruciating pain possible after, so sadly, zandik curses himself and gets back to work :(( he dosent care about the sacrifices, he dosent care what he has to give and what gets taken away as long as you don’t. He’s a committed man and he’s committed for until after life. Literally will reincarnate with you if he can because he will *not* let go.

TO THE FLUFF THOUGH! zandik taking atleast 1 hour everyday to do something that you like because he realizes that you miss him (and he misses you too). At first he was wary because he wanted to ensure that he could get you cured as soon as possible, but he couldn’t handle it if you were all sad and gloomy either. He didn’t want you to think of yourself as a burden and god forbid, you try to leave again (referring to that one ask where reader leaves bc they feel like a burden,, in feel like he’s be so damn scared…even if he won’t admit it). So reading you a book? sure, just be prepared for many side comments if it’s some cheesy romance novel or him reading a textbook. Drawing? hell, he’ll draw an anatomical heart with you holding it! Cuddling? he’ll wrap you up in his fluffy coat and hug you as much as you want.

- 💌 anon

AWW ILYY 💌 ANON!! Hehe I am trying my best to go to sleep earlier... it's a work in progress. Also i feel you on the HSR brainrot but I'm TBL 57, have no good artifacts since I haven't farmed, and stuck on the deer boss fight 💀 i gotta get on the grind soon 😫🫠 But you better get proper rest too!!! Or else- 💖💖

NOOO THE FLUFF GETS IMMEDIATELY WIPED AWAY TO ANGST- I can't imagine the sheer happiness you two would feel. Reader, of course, would be absolutely elated and very plainly show how delighted they are. You're running, hopping, Dottore even twirls you around and you do a pretty little spin as you fall back into his arms. You're so happy, you haven't smiled or laughed this much in ages. Dottore, as usual, doesn't show nearly as much emotion as you, but don't let that fool you. Internally, he's feeling something he has never felt before, so foreign that normally he'd be trying to get rid of it but this time he knows exactly why he's having this feeling. Thrilled, excited, proud, enthusiastic, words that could not even begin to fully describe this feeling. Centuries of work finally paid off, never to have to be repeated again. To see you so purely happy, makes him look forward to things going back to how they once were. Oh, how much fun you'd have joining him as his assistant again. The whole atmosphere and feelings of the clones in the lab are in sync for once.

Except... it all comes crashing down. Literally. When you collapse in his arms with ragged breaths, skin searing to the touch, actual tears begin to form from how badly it hurts. Immediately the mood from early deflates as he rushes to get you back to normal and ease your suffering </3 To have something he desires right in his hands, just to be snatched away from him with no warning is something he's never experienced before. He is a scholar, possibly one of the most intelligent beings in Teyvat. Such a thing shouldn't have happened to him. But it did, and he has to start over. He probably killed some people to blow off steam. No remorse. Just anger.

Sigh sigh I LOVE THIS SM. Normally, he'd scoff if it was any other activity. Especially when it's boring meetings. A whole hour? For nonsense? He finds it meaningless. His 24 hours are spent doing important things. Important things being research, experiments, notes... and you, of course. You're right, when Dottore has a goal or something he wants to reach, he just throws himself into it. No breaks, nothing, he just wants to make progress, progress, progress. Especially when it's you on the line. He'll refuse any and all contact. But he's come to realize your state deteriorates even more if your needs are not met by him. Not to mention the clones are sending messages to each other internally about how sad you are, which he decides he overhears way too frequently </3 So he knows he has to put a stop into it. (And yes, that ask was sad as hell, I still think about it 😭🥺)

Love how we agree he's a pro at drawing anatomical stuff hehe. You cut out the hearts he draws and put them on your walls or something ;( And also AHHHH THE FLUFFY COAT CUDDLING... No words can describe how much I love that scenario. It's so cute to think about both of you wearing it at the same time... you're on his lap, he's wearing the coat but it's swallowing your whole body up anyway since it's wrapped around, the fluff tickling your face!! <3 The book is in your hand, you both take turns reading it but Dottore interrupts whenever something dumb is said or done. Oh.. but you end up falling asleep since his voice is so relaxing and his chest is so comfy..

Ughhh eternal lovers with Dottore is hitting me right now ;( Especially when you talked about his commitment... hell yes this crazy doctor will not bat an eye at anyone else besides you it doesn't matter how long it's been. For you he has no limits. He always be intrigued and into this person who managed to worm their way into his cruel cold heart...

[joshym]

Lilac Moon: Chapter 3

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 7.4k+

Warnings: (specific to this chapter) alcohol use, a good amount of angst, some pretty fluffy fluff, lot’s of cursing (sorry, lol), an almost physical fight, mentions of past trauma, mentions of anxiety (future chapters WILL contain smut, so MINORS DNI)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

a/n: this story means a lot to me, & i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i love writing it. 🤍

with that being said, i just want to reiterate that this is a complete work of pure fiction, & this is not in any way meant to be reflective of real life.

as always, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think, & let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. :)

love you all so much!

-lis🤍

You stayed the whole night with Josh, wrapped up with him in the chill of the night. It was an accident; you hadn’t planned on staying at this house, sleeping in his arms in the serenity of his backyard. But he’s so comforting, so calming…you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to be with him just like this for the rest of your days. 

You’re falling for him, and you’re falling fast.

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

The peace of the morning has settled in. You're awoken by the melodic sounds of the birds chirping their forenoon songs. The sun is just beginning its dawn, the dew ever present on the grass.

Your body slowly rises and falls with his, his breathing still indicating the patterns of a deep sleep. He’s so warm. His comforting scent penetrates your senses. His arms are wrapped snug around your body, keeping you safe and close to him. You wish this could last forever. You wish the rest of the world would go on, leaving the two of you alone in this bliss you have created together.

You finally start to come to a bit more, your mind wandering out of its dreamlike state. You stretch your stiff limbs, causing him to stir as he’s starting to wake up, too. Half asleep, he leans down to give a gentle kiss on top of your head.

“Mm, good morning. At least I think it’s morning, anyway.” His voice is deep and raspy, still sleep laden.

You suddenly come fully to your senses, realizing that you accidentally spent the entire night with him, sleeping under his pergola in the backyard. You quickly grab your phone to investigate the time.

6:18am

“Holy shit, oh my god. I’m so sorry, Josh. I can’t believe I fell asleep like that.”

You lift your body off of him, finding he’s almost reluctant to break the embrace, but does it anyway.

“Why would you be sorry? I don’t mind at all. It’s actually the most restful sleep I’ve gotten in a long while.”

“I just hate to be so intrusive. This is your home, I shouldn’t have stayed all night like that. That’s so rude of me. I’m so sor-” he cuts you off before you can apologize for a second time.

“Y/n, please.” He sits up on the couch to be eye level with you, smiling a toothy grin at your embarrassment that he finds adorable. His hair is in a fluffy mess from sleeping outside all night, but it’s wonderfully charming to you. “Don’t say sorry. I’m happy you stayed. It gets a little lonely here sometimes and you’re fantastic company.” He lifts your hand to give it a quick peck.

“Well, I guess this means I have to make you breakfast now, huh.” He gives you a sly wink, making you blush as you both break out in a set of sleepy giggles. 

He leads you in the house. You’d only seen his home in artificial lighting since you came over so late, but now, you’re seeing it in the glow of the day. The rising sun has encapsulated the space in a warm golden tone showcasing the architectural detailing and his elegant decor. There’s one wall in the living room that is entirely made up of floor to ceiling windows with a view of the forest behind it. You’re in absolute awe as you take it all in.

You’re in desperate need of freshening up, so you ask him where the restroom is. He points down the long hallway, telling you it’s the second door on your right.

You take your time to splash some water on your face, use the small brush you keep in your purse to fix your hair a little, and you’re thanking your lucky stars that you always carry around a travel sized toothbrush and toothpaste set.

Once you feel a little more presentable, you head back to the kitchen to find Josh rummaging through his fridge and cabinets for ingredients to make breakfast. 

“What can I help you with?”

“Uh, absolutely nothing. You’re my guest and you will be treated as such. I am but your humble servant.” He bows to you, then walks over to the first seat at the island and pulls it out for you. “Your throne awaits, my dear.” 

“If you insist, good sir.” You can’t even begin to hide the smile taking over your face. 

“Sir, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.” he says with a sly wink as you both laugh.

Any other time you’ve stayed at a man’s house, it usually involves sex that is less than pleasurable for you, and the mornings consist of them practically shoving you out of the front door. (if they even let you stay that long)

But with Josh, it’s completely different. He didn’t need sex from you last night. He was perfectly content with just being with you, being in your presence. Completely okay with just a kiss, the most beautiful kiss you’ve ever shared with anyone. A kiss that happened when you were in the depths of explaining the most vulnerable parts of yourself that he wanted to know about. And not only that, he wants to cook for you this morning.

What is happening?

You’re watching intently as Josh gathers his ingredients for what appears to be quite the meal he has planned.

“So what are you making me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he says with a smirk.

“Oh no. You’re not going to poison me, are you?”

He huffs out a laugh. “ Of course not. Unless you’re allergic to blackberries.” He puts some blackberries in a pot on the stove, stirring in a mixture of lemon juice, vanilla and water. “I’m making a blackberry compote to go on top of our french toast.”

“Oh! That sounds amazing, Josh!”

“Well, don’t give me too much credit. It’s a Jacob specialty. He’s a far better cook than I. But don’t ever tell him I said that. Wouldn’t want it going to his head.”

He lets the compote come to a boil before meticulously mixing in a little cornstarch.

“Jakes a cook?”

“Oh absolutely. He’s been cooking for the better part of our lives now. And I don’t mean he makes some measly pasta dish with premade sauce in a jar from the store, he is up to par with the professionals. I love all things culinary, but I don’t hold a candle to him.”

He continues stirring his concoction until it’s thick enough to his liking. He puts a little on a spoon, blowing on it until you can no longer see steam. He walks over to you and gently holds the spoon up to your mouth. 

“Here, tell me what you think.”

You look in his eyes while you taste it, this moment feeling awfully romantic.

“It’s perfect.”

“Really? You think so?”

“Yes, I do! Josh, are you sure you don’t need my help? You’re doing too much, I feel bad just watching you slave away.”

He walks back over to the stove to begin preparing the toast.

“Like I said, you’re my guest. I don’t get to do this often, so let me spoil you, okay?”

You nod and smile in agreement while you watch him finish the toast. He decorates your plates to near perfection, taking his time to drizzle the blackberry compote on top of the toast in a certain design. He tops it off with a little powdered sugar before setting your plate in front of you.

“Ladies first.” he says, signaling you to take the first bite. He watches you closely as you do so, anxiously awaiting your reaction.

“Well? How is it?”

“My compliments to the chef. Or should I say, the far less cuisine-talented Kiszka twin.” He covers his face in an attempt to conceal his laughter. “No seriously. This is incredible. Thank you for doing this. You really didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to. I don’t get to have people over here often, in fact I don’t even get to be here as much as I’d like, so this is nice.”

You both finish your breakfast, talking about anything and everything that graces the forefront of your minds. You talk a little about the tour and he offers some life-on-the-road advice to you, you talk some more about music and the future for both of your bands, things of that nature. 

“Just so you know, I’ve been down the rabbit hole that is Lilac Moon.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Been listening to your music, watching your videos…I know I’ve already said this, but you’re pretty fantastic. Your stage presence is outstanding, y/n. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do in an arena. Lilac Moon truly deserves to be on a bigger stage.”

“Well, thank you. It’s going to be a change of scenery, that’s for sure.”

As much as you feel your music is going nowhere, that’s not entirely true. Your band has roughly 60,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, which is pretty damn good for a group that rarely leaves its home state. You’ve also been featured on NPR Music's YouTube channel for a Tiny Desk concert. That’s no small feat. The bands’ Instagram page has nearly 80,000 followers, with your own personal page reaching close to 30,000. You’ve been able to do multiple professional live recordings for various radio stations, even have two music videos out for your original songs. The recording of your first EP, self funded, of course, was a pivotal moment. It garnered a lot of attention from people, and its success allowed for a second one to be recorded and released within just a few months. Things aren’t quite as stagnant as you feel they are, it's Jay that has made you believe that it’s not enough. He’s convinced you that fame is all that matters, and you’ve allowed yourself to believe it. You know that’s not true. Those things don’t matter. The music matters the most, and that’s your true love. You’re finding that you’re starting to fall in love with that aspect of it all again. 

“I uh, also happened to stumble upon a cover you all did at a few shows. A little number called Safari Song, I believe? Can't seem to remember who does that one…hmm..” he giggles at the blush creeping on your face. 

Lilac Moon has performed that song countless times in front of audiences. Obviously a crowd favorite.

“Gee, I can’t remember who does that one either.”  you say to him with a wink.

“I have to admit, I’m incredibly nervous, Josh. I mean, what if they don’t like us? I doubt many of them know us…I just…I don’t handle criticism well…I know that’s something I have to fix if I want to continue any kind of career in this field. I’m just nervous. This is the biggest thing to ever happen to us…I’m terrified they’ll hate us.”

“Ah, I remember those feelings quite well. It can be frightening, I know. But I can promise you this: they’re going to love you. I know our fans. They’re some of the most accepting, loving people. They feel it from us, and they reciprocate it. Just go out there with love, and they’ll love you right back. Love is the key.”

He pats the top of your head in a silly, loving way to reassure you a little extra.

“But you should know this already, I mean you are one of them, after all.” he says with a wink. “Just how big of a fan are you, anyways? Just out of curiosity. I hope you’re not a crazed, stalker type. If you are, well, you’ve done a good job of it because you’re in my house.” he says with a boisterous laugh.

“Well, I went to as many shows as I could back in the day. Got a few guitar picks, a drum stick. You even handed me a rose one time.”

“What? You know…” he stops to ponder in thought a bit. “Yeah…yes! I remember you! Oh my God, how could I have forgotten this. You and Ivy! I remember seeing you at tons of shows, and I remember handing you the rose.” He taps his fingers on his chin while he thinks. “St. Louis. Ballpark Village in 2017. You were wearing the most lovely purple dress with these huge sleeves that were just beautiful…and you had the most wonderful flowers in your hair. That’s why I wanted to give you the rose, because of your flowers. Such a lovely sight.”

You’re left in complete shock. His memory is serving him right, because that’s exactly what you were wearing. 

“I can’t believe you remembered all of that. That’s just…how on earth do you still remember that? It’s been so many years, and you’ve done thousands of shows since then..”

“You just spoke to me, I guess. You were so sweet, so gentle in the mix of people who were screaming at the top of their lungs. You just radiated this energy that I didn’t feel from anyone else in the crowd. You were there for the music, for the peace it brought you, I could tell.”

You’re struck aghast at hearing this from him, because he’s absolutely right. You always felt a sort of peace at their shows. They felt eerily intimate to you, and you can’t believe he picked up on that from the crowds of people that surrounded you.

“Wow, Josh. I’m just astounded. I never knew you noticed me, let alone remembered me.”

“Look at you, y/n! I’d be crazy to not remember the likes of you, sweet girl. Like I said last night, the universe is mysterious. It wanted our paths to cross again, and now look what’s come of it? It’s a wonderful thing.”

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

You’ve been so lost in conversation that you don’t even realize three hours have gone by.

You start to help Josh clean up in the kitchen when you hear his phone going off.

“Shit. Hold on, I have to get that.”

He answers it, opting to put it on speaker. You’re taken aback by this. This man really has nothing to hide, and nothing to hide from you. It’s a sweet, seemingly insignificant gesture that makes you smile to yourself.

“Where the fuck are you?” You recognize Jake's voice instantly, and he’s not thrilled.

“Oh fuck, man. I totally forgot. What time was I supposed to be there?”

“You were supposed to be here over an hour ago to get hair and makeup done, Josh. The shoot starts in 30 minutes. You better get your ass over here now.” You hear Sammy’s unmistakable laughter in the background, clearly mocking his older brother's irresponsibility.

“Tell Sam to shut the fuck up. I’m on my way.”

You hear the call disconnect from the other end.

“I’m so sorry, Josh. This is all my fault.” 

“No, don’t be. It’s just a silly magazine. They want us pretty damn bad for this next cover, so they aren’t going anywhere.”

You help him get the last few things tidied up in the kitchen before grabbing your stuff to head out the door with him. He walks you to your car, opening your door for you but stops you before you get in.

“Can we- can we do this again sometime? I know we’ve both got busy schedules with everything coming up. But I really, really enjoyed talking to you. I’m sorry if I got a little carried away last night. I just couldn’t help myself and-” you’re not sure where or how you got this sudden courage, but you grabbed him lightly by his shirt and brought him to your lips in a sweet, longing kiss to cut off his apology. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, bringing you even closer to him.

“Don’t be sorry.” you whisper as you move away slightly from his lips. “I would love to do this again. Soon, I hope?”

“Yes, very soon. Every night if we can.” 

You meet each other in another kiss but it’s cut short as Josh’s phone is going off yet again, presumably Jake.

“I really hate to, but I have to go. Text me, okay?” 

“I will.” you say as you sit in the driver's seat of your car.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Bye, y/n.”

He smiles as he shuts your car door. You watch him walk to his jeep. He looks wonderful in the sun, effortlessly stunning. The butterflies in your stomach are in a fluttering mass. You’re not sure what any of this means or where it could possibly be going, but you’re welcoming all of it with open arms.

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

Your mind is racing on your drive home. In fact, you decide to take the long way to your apartment to give yourself some space for deep thought. You love to take long drives to just let yourself think, to let yourself be.

You decide to skip going home right away, opting to drive yourself to Ivy’s to see if she’s home. You have to talk to someone, and who better than your very best friend. 

You breathe a heavy sigh of relief when you pull up to her complex to see her car in her usual parking spot.

It’s not out of the ordinary for the two of you to show up to each other’s places unannounced. You even have a key to her apartment, and she owns one to yours as well.

You lived together briefly upon moving to Nashville, that is until Jay came into the picture. He moved in with you and essentially forced Ivy out. She didn’t take it well, and you can’t blame her one bit. He always said it was for ‘privacy.’ You hated that you let him do that. You hated that he tried to put a wedge between you and Ivy. It left a dent in your friendship for a while, and as much as she says she forgives you and doesn't place the blame on you, you can’t help but feel shameful for letting him run your life the way he did. Despite all of it, it somehow made you and Ivy stronger in the end. Your friendship has stood the tests of time and tribulation.

You make it up the steps to the second floor of the complex and let yourself in the front door of her apartment. It’s still early, so you have no doubt she’s still asleep. 

As you walk inside, your theory is confirmed when you see her sprawled out on the couch in a deep sleep. You giggle a bit as she has always been notorious for falling asleep on the couch almost every night.

You sit down next to her and try to wake her up without scaring the shit out of her. She’s also notorious for getting a bit aggressive when she’s startled awake. 

“Ivy…wake up. It’s me. We have to talk, like now.” you say in a hushed tone.

She starts to wake up a bit, tossing around to grab her phone that's buried in the cushions.

“What the hell are you doing here so early? Why are you even up?”

“I wasn’t at home last night..”

“Wha-what?” She's more awake now, sitting up in a better position to talk.

“What do you mean? Where were you? I literally dropped you off after practice.”

“Well, I was home for a bit. Then I got a text from Josh…”

Her eyes are now fully open and displaying shock as she’s scanning your face, desperate to hear the rest of your tale.

“Wait, what? What did he say? Did you hangout with him?”

“Yeah, I mean I don’t think that was his initial intention. He just wanted to apologize for being so sappy at the restaurant yesterday. He said some beautiful things, Ive. That’s why I was about to cry.”

She nods her head as if to signal you to keep going.

“Well, then he asked about Jay and why he’s such a prick. I told him it was a long story. One thing led to another, and he asked me to come over to have some wine and talk. So, I did.”

She has the biggest smile on her face, her eyes squinted almost entirely from her grin.

“And you stayed? All night? Holy shit, y/n. You slept with Josh. You slept with Joshua fucking Kisz-” you interupt her with an obnoxious laugh at her ridiculous assumption.

“Ivy! We did NOT sleep together. I mean, we slept together, but we didn’t fuck. Jesus, get your mind out of the gutter.” You playfully slap her arm. “We did kiss, though…and I told him about my dad. I don’t know what happened, it just..did. It happened so quickly. I felt so safe with him.”

“You kissed him? Y/n, oh my God. Tell me everything. Who initiated?”

“I told him a little about my experience with my mom…and you know me, you know I don’t talk about these things. I told him about how my dad instilled in me this passion for music that I have. I started to cry, and he said he wanted to kiss me…and I told him to do it..”

“That’s…that’s amazing, y/n.”

“And he listened to me, Ivy. He actually listened to me. He was so..intentional. I felt so heard. I think that’s why I fell asleep with him. It just…it felt nice, you know? Maybe I’m overthinking everything…and odds are this doesn’t mean anything. But it just felt really…nice.”

Ivy leans in and wraps you in a hug. She knows all too well of the struggles you’ve faced, and she knows how hard it is for you to talk about it all. The two of you share a bond together that no one else will ever be able to fully comprehend. She’s also been through her fair share of traumas, so the two of you understand one another in a way that is different from other relationships in your lives.

“Okay so..is there anything else I need to know?”

“He cooked me breakfast this morning.”

“What the fuck. This man isn’t real. There’s no way. It’s too good to be true.”

You both laugh at this, and you halfway agree with her.

“If I wasn’t there, I don’t think I’d believe it myself. You know my track record with men is absolute shit. I mean I even apologized for staying all night, and he practically thanked me for staying. Said he gets lonely. And he wouldn’t even let me help him with breakfast. It was so sweet.”

“What did he make you, anyway?”

“The most incredible french toast I’ve ever had. He told me it’s Jake's recipe. Apparently Jake is some high-end chef. Isn’t that amazing?”

Ivy perked right up at that.

“So, since you’re all chummy with Josh, can you set me up with his outrageously sexy, guitar-god of a twin?”

You both burst out in a fit of giggles.

“You are absolutely ridiculous.”

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

You’ve spent the entire day with Ivy. Relaxing, watching your favorite tv shows, eating snacks. You’ve been so busy with Lilac Moon lately that it’s been hard to find time to just rest, so you’re grateful for the opportunity that arose today.

You held off from texting Josh at the risk of seeming too eager, but you were starting to feel guilty that your promise fell through. You decide that it’s probably okay to text him, given it’s been several hours since you saw him so you shouldn’t look that desperate.

You: How did the photoshoot go? Jake didn’t kill you for being late, did he?

Josh: Unfortunately, he did just that. I am speaking to you from the grave. ;) 

You’re surprised by the almost instant reply. 

You: Oh! What a shame. I was really starting to like you. :( 

You: I really am sorry I made you so late!

Josh: Not your fault, sweet girl! Jacob gets agitated quite easily but it’s nothing to bat an eye at. All was well, as I knew it would be! What are you doing on this fine evening?

Ivy catches you smiling at your phone.

“You look an awful lot like you’re talking to a gorgeous rockstar over there.” 

“And what if I am? You’re jealous, huh.” you say with a smirk.

“Shut the hell up, y/n.”

You return to responding to Josh when suddenly your phone starts ringing with an incoming call. To your disgust, it’s Jay. Him calling this late can only mean one thing, a last minute gig at a shitty bar.

You turn your screen to show Ivy, to which she responds with a heavy eye roll.

“Hello, Jay.”

“Are you with Ivy?”

“Yes, why?”

“Be at The Basement in 45 minutes. Juliens on his way with the equipment. We’re on at 9.”

“Are you fucking kidding me-” he hangs up before you can argue.

You look at Ivy who’s got annoyance written all over her face.

“Well that’s just fucking great.”

“Please, y/n, don’t tell me we’re playing where I think we’re playing..”

Ivy puts her face in her hands, knowing exactly what your response will be.

“Yep. The Basement. The fucking Basement. I don’t know how many times we have to tell Jay that we hate this fucking place.”

The Basement in south Nashville is quite literally your least favorite place to play. It’s such a small bar that gets crowded quickly, it’s gross and always smells like regurgitated alcohol, and the sound system is absolute shit. Also, this place never fails to attract the nastiest, most disrespectful men that yell the most horrendous things at you and Ivy. 

“How much time do we have to get ready?”

“He wants us there in 45 minutes.”

“That gives us..” she looks at her phone to confirm the time “..20 fucking minutes to get ready. Why does he wait until the last minute to plan these things!”

The Basement also conveniently doesn’t house any dressing rooms for you to get ready in, and you’re sure as hell not getting ready in the bathrooms that don’t appear to have ever been cleaned properly, so you have to hurry and get ready here.

Ivy runs to her closet to grab some outfits for the two of you while you rush to her bathroom to get out all of her makeup. You start quickly putting on your face when you realize you hadn’t responded to Josh yet. You really didn’t want to leave him hanging.

You: Well, looks like we’re booked for a last minute gig at my least favorite bar, thanks to none other than Jay.

Josh: Where would said gig happen to be?

You: The Basement. And he’s only giving us 20 minutes to be ready and get there for a soundcheck. I can tell you know, it’ll sound like shit.

Josh: I’m coming. What time is your set?

You: We’re on at 9. You really don’t need to come. This place is a dump and it’s way too overcrowded. People will probably maul you once they figure out you’re there. It’s not safe.

Josh: That’s what our security is for. :) I’ll be there. Daniel and Jake will also be in attendance. I think they love your music almost as much as I do. :)

The thought of him coming to a risky place just to see your band perform has you feeling so warm inside. You can’t explain it, but you feel safer already at the thought of him being there.

You finish your makeup in record time. Ivy barges in with an outfit for you. A pair of black velvet bell bottoms and a strapless sage green corset top donned with flowers. It’ll do. Ivy’s wearing a mini skirt the same shade of green and a black crop top with sequins.

You get dressed as Ivy rushes to finish her makeup.

“How much time, y/n?”

“We need to be in the car in 3 minutes.”

“Shit. You’re driving, then. I’ll just finish this in the car.”

You both sprint down the stairs of the complex to your car, tripping over your bell bottoms with each step.

“You just had to give me the fucking bell bottoms? I should get to wear that skirt! My legs are shorter than yours!”

“Well my ass looks bad in them, so yes! Get over it!”

♪°•°∞♬°•°♪°•°∞♬°•°♪

You finally made it. The drive here was brutal, but you made it right on time.

You head in for the soundcheck. You’re groaning at the thought of playing here again. The stage is so small that the four of you on there together are practically on top of one another. There’s hardly enough room for your equipment, but Julien is the best at making it all fit. 

Joe is here and talking to the owners of the bar, probably negotiating a form of payment. These places never pay much. Stingy asses.

You quickly run through a few songs before the doors open for people to start coming in. You sound mediocre at best. This place has the absolute worst sound.

8:31 pm

There’s only about 10 minutes until doors, so you and Ivy decide to grab a drink from the bar to calm your collective nerves. 

“So, Josh is coming tonight, with Danny and Jake. He insisted on it.”

She takes a sip of her angry orchard.

“Isn’t this place a little dangerous for them? Like won’t people freak out over them?”

“I literally thought the same thing, but Josh said they’re bringing security with them so it would be fine. I told him they didn’t need to come, but he sounded like they really wanted to. Said they loved our music.”

You’re suddenly startled by Jay yelling at you from backstage.

“Y/n! Ivy! What the fuck are you doing? Get back here! It’s almost time!”

You both roll your eyes simultaneously at his rude behavior and head back to join him and Julien. You decide to tell Julien about your guests attending tonight's show.

“Guess what, Julie? Josh, Danny and Jake will be here tonight!”

“Uh oh, guess that means we better be on our best behavior!” he says with a playful nudge at your shoulder.

“Why the fuck do they need to be here? Do they think they need to come see us to make sure we’re actually good enough for them?”

You’re not surprised by his nasty attitude towards it, in fact you were expecting it. He’s already a few drinks in, not much of a shock.

“They just wanted to see the show, Jay. They like our music. I don’t know what the big deal is.”

Jay scoffs obnoxiously. “That’s a load of bullshit. They don’t give fuck. They just want to make sure we actually fit their standards. I know how the business works. We’re just the openers, y/n. They couldn’t care less about us and you’re better off to realize that, too.”

“Why do you have to have such a shit attitude about it? Not once have you shown an ounce of gratitude for this opportunity. You’re being an asshole about it. You were so fucking rude at the meeting. It was embarrassing.”

“I was the embarrassing one, y/n? Hm. See, how I remember it is you were flirting up a fucking storm with the miniature lead singer. Everyone noticed. Seems like you’re trying to make it good with him, get yourself a step ahead of all of us. He’s your ticket to fame, isn’t he?”

Now you’re pissed. 

“You’re just mad that I don’t want to be with your sorry ass anymore. You can’t handle when another man gives me attention, can you? Sounds like you’re pretty fucking jealous to me.”

“You’re just using him, y/n. You don’t want him. And there’s no way he’d want a nobody like you. It’s pathetic. You’re just fulfilling some stupid fantasy of yours, huh?”

“Fuck you, Jay.”

You storm off towards the stage. Ivy follows close behind, about to bite a hole in her tongue to keep from making things worse.

“It must suck to be so fucking miserable all the time. It’d be great if you’d get over yourself for once.” Julien says before he follows your lead to head on stage.

For the first time in a long while, you and Ivy aren’t the last ones making it to the stage.

8:59 pm

People are piling in fast. You hit the stage to a loud collection of cheers. You scan the audience quickly, seeing your distinguished guests towards the back of the bar surrounded by a slew of security guards. The anger you were feeling has instantly melted away at the site of Josh and his toothy smile. His energy instantaneously makes you feel lighter.

9:01 pm

You tap the mic a few times to ensure it’s working. You take a deep breath. 

“Good evening! How are we all doing tonight?”

The crowd is exceptionally loud tonight, and you’re starting to feel better about the whole situation.

You look around to your bandmates to signal you’re ready, when you notice the absence of your high strung guitarist.

You look back to Julien with silent question, to which he responds with wide eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. 

You decide to buy a little time by doing your usual warming-up-the-crowd antics. 

“We’re Lilac Moon, in case you’re new here.” You start nervously adjusting the mic stand, an anxious fidget of yours. “If you like what you hear, don’t be afraid to tip us. If you don’t like what you hear, still tip us and we’ll be sure to use it for lessons.” Julien punctuates your cheesy joke with a *ba dum tss* of his kit.

That one gets them everytime, so you’re not surprised to hear a lot of laughter from the crowd.

9:07 pm

You look to your left, still no Jay. 

Shit. 

“Lots of lovely faces out here tonight. It’s a shame you’re stuck looking at ours.” Another *ba dum tss* from Julien and plenty of laughs from the crowd.

9:10 pm

Still no Jay. You’re starting to panic. Julien senses it and decides to head backstage in search of him. 

You and Ivy do your best to buy more time, but people are getting antsy. You periodically look to Josh to see his face filled with worry.

9:14 pm

Finally, just as you were about to head backstage yourself, here comes Julien with a clearly disordered Jay. 

Great. He’s fucking wasted.

You’re nervous for what could happen, but the show must go on.

“You all ready?” you say as Ivy taps a few notes on her bass and Jay strums a chord on his guitar.

The crowd cheers, and you begin.

The first several songs go as well as you could’ve hoped. The crowd is really into it tonight. You’re trying not to keep your eyes set on Josh the whole time, but it’s proving to be quite difficult. He looks so enthralled, and you notice that he’s even singing along to some of your songs. It’s surreal, to say the least. He even blows you a few kisses, causing you to become flustered. 

9:53 pm

The next song is your newest piece, Alone Again, the one that requires you to play some rhythm guitar with Jay. You go to grab your instrument, feeling slightly less anxious than the other night for its debut and your first time playing on stage. 

You make your speech about playing guitar, finding the opportunity to say once again “if it sounds like shit, just blame Jay” only this time, he doesn’t appear to be too pleased with your quip. He stares at you with an empty, angry glare as he steps closer to his mic.

What is he about to do..

“No, no. If it sounds like shit, blame her. She’s the one who wrote this song. Oh, should I mention she wrote it about me? You know, we were in the ‘throes of love.’” he uses air quotes, making his sarcasm apparent, “but all love stories must end, isn’t that right, y/n? I bet your new fling didn’t know this little number was about me, did he?” He looks towards Josh. “Did you know that? That she wrote this about me?” He’s slurring and stumbling all over his words, clearly very drunk as the alcohol has had more time to settle. Luckily, no one in the audience seems to register that he’s trying to point out someone in the crowd. But their security is wrapped tightly around them, just in case.

You’re speechless. You’re embarrassed. You're not even sure how to go about beginning the song now, but thankfully, Julien taps his snare a few times, and the song finally begins.

The last time you performed this song, you were full of emotions that forced you to become somewhat vulnerable on stage. This time, the only emotion you feel is anger. Pure, unfiltered anger. You’re nearly screaming the lyrics. Your strumming is intense. You’re just ready to get it over with.

Despite it all, the audience loves it. Their cheers make it apparent that they’ve mostly forgotten about the awkward intro to the track.

Thankfully, Jay keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the set, and everything ends rather smoothly. 

10:26 pm

“Thank you all so much! We hope to see you again soon!” you say as you blow a kiss and wave to the audience, getting tons of kisses and waves right back as they cheer.

Once you’re all backstage, Joe takes Jay aside and corners him.

“What the hell was that about, huh? You trying to make yourself look like a damn fool? ‘Cause you’re doing a great job at it, bud!”

Your adrenaline from being on stage has quickly left and anger is seeping in your blood once again. 

You walk over to Joe and push him aside.

“What the fuck, Jay? You’re going to make us look like a fucking joke. You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

He starts screaming at you. You’re not even able to make out what he’s saying. A lot of ‘bitch’ and ‘fuck you’s’ being thrown around is all you can manage to understand.

“What the FUCK is your problem?” Danny yells loud enough that it startles him and cuts him off. “I’ll be God damned if I let you speak to her like that any longer.” Just as he says that, Jay lifts his fist, ready to land on Danny.

“Oh I don’t fucking think so.” Before he can swing, Danny grabs him and locks his arms behind his back.

Jay is trying to release himself from his grasp, but the drummer is far too strong for him and his drunken, belligerent state. 

Josh and Jake are close behind, running up to you to be sure you’re okay. 

“Y/n, you and Ivy come with us. You don’t need to be in his company any longer.” Josh says as he grabs your hand to pull you away, glaring at Jay.

“You know you’re nothing to her! She only wants you ‘cause you’re famous! She doesn’t give a fuck about you or anyone else!” he screams as Danny, Joe and Julien take him outside to the back of the venue to cool him off.

“Get fucked, you piece of shit!” Josh yells back in a deep, angry tone, one you didn’t think was possible from him.

That…was fucking hot.

You’re mortified. He demeaned you in front of the audience, but worst of all, he tried to start a physical fight with a member of the band that’s helping you further your career. Embarrassment doesn’t even cover it.

“I am…I’m so sorry about all of this. We were fighting before the show and I guess he took it upon himself to get absolutely trashed.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, y/n. You guys shouldn’t have to put up with this bullshit.” Jake says.

“Josh, please don’t believe anything he says. He’s completely out of it, I don’t even think he realizes he lost his shit on stage. He’s an asshole, but he takes his music very seriously. That’s not like him to do that, I swear.”

“I have no reason to believe a word out of his mouth, y/n. And you need to stop justifying his behavior. There’s no reason for him to act that way. But I do want to know something…” you look to him to let him know he can continue his thought, “Did you really write that song? About him? It’s a wonderful, beautiful song. But, the lyrics. How could you still feel that way about him?”

“Yes, I did. I wrote it the day I broke things off.” You’ve thought the same things. How could you possibly waste your energy on a song about him? “I guess I didn’t write it about him so much as I wrote it about who I thought he was. I, I don’t know. I thought he was different, Josh. I was naive. I don’t feel those things..and to be honest, I’m not sure I ever did. I think I liked the idea of being with him more than anything. There wasn’t any real love there. It felt so empty.”

Jake and Ivy take it upon themselves to leave, to give you two some space.

“You are worlds better than him. Universes, even. He doesn’t deserve to share space with you.”

“I wish he wasn’t in this band. I wish things were different. I wish we could just kick him out and find someone else, it’s just not that easy. None of us can stand being around him anymore. He’s gone completely off the deep end since the break up. He makes it really hard for me, for all of us, to love this band like we used to.” 

You’re in a tough spot. You feel the need to make excuses for Jay because he’s still a vital part of this band. And you feel it’s your responsibility to keep the peace amongst everyone, because you feel a sort of guilt for everything that happened. You’re convinced that you’re the reason he acts this way. 

Josh doesn’t speak for a few minutes, looking like something on his mind is plaguing him.

“Josh? What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t want to say anything until I had more information. But…we found out today that the label is kind of being difficult about you coming on tour with us since you’re not signed with them. We all thought it’d be okay, given you’re not signed with anyone, but apparently that’s somewhere in the fine lines of the contracts. Our manager didn’t even think it’d be a big deal.”

You stare blankly at him, watching as his expression turns more and more distraught.

“They were here tonight, y/n. They were prepared to sign you, but after Jay’s outburst on stage….I don’t know, they weren’t happy. They left before you finished.”

Fuck.

“I…I mean what do we do? Can we have a meeting with them? We can’t let this happen, I won’t let it happen. I won’t let that mother fucker ruin this for us. He’s such a fucki-” he stops you before you can really work yourself up and brushes his hand gently on your cheek to calm you down.

“Listen, I will make this happen, okay? We can pull some strings. You deserve this and I’ll prove that to them. But, that could mean finding a new guitarist. I don’t know for sure, so don’t stress too much about that yet. I just want you to know that might be a possibility, okay?”

This news should send you into a spiral, but his voice is so calming…his demeanor is peaceful…you can’t help but trust everything he says. Looking into his eyes, you have no doubt everything will be alright.

“Okay, Josh..” you say with a heavy sigh.

He smiles at you and leans down to place a kiss on your nose.

To be continued…

Chapter 4

join the taglist!

taglist: @jakeyt @fwzco @jessicafg03 @blissfulbellss @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @arsonkween @sicksadandrad @gretavansara @witchofendora @andtherestishistory13 @aintthatapity @itsdannysworld @thetroublegetssoloud71 @slaythelightfantastic

i *think* i got everyone, but, again, tumblr is being weird with tags.

a/n: here’s a little playlist of songs that, to me, represent the kind of music Lilac Moon would do, if they were real. ☺️ 

i’d like to think of their music as a mix of all of these sounds put together, if that makes sense. lol

[writingmochi]

“smirch” episode 2: jay

cast: skater & stoner!jay ✗ rival school student!fem.reader

synopsis: jay park likes liberty, something he felt every time he is either high or on his skateboard. selling weed for the students along with sunghoon, jay will do anything that helps him survive his life in korea. at a time when two rival schools are in a rugby match, it is the perfect time to do business, but he’s intrigued with you, a student from the rival school, who brought a plastic bag of cans of cat food

genre: teen drama, coming of age, slice of life, high school au, fluff, comedy, angst, mature content (drugs, suggestive themes, mental health)

based on: tv shows skins uk; specifically gen 1 banner intro video inspired by series 1′s opening (2007-2013) and skam norway (2015-2017)

word count: 27442 (27.4k)

warning(s): mc has anxiety and selective mutism, mention of overprotective parents, mention of neglectful parents, mention of drugs and consumption of drugs (cigarette and marijuana), drug-dealing, mentions of minor injuries, mention of dead animal, steamy make-out scene, not really a warning but mc used to live in the UK so she's gonna use british slangs and words equivalent to the ones used in american english (if i forget some or wrong in some way, let me know)

message from the moon: remember that this story is fiction. do be careful and read the warnings at the top as both the chapter and the series as a whole will contain serious and sensitive topics.

hello! thank you for waiting a FREAKING YEAR since the last episode my god. this is supposed to be released on jay's birthday and 420 day (cause he is a stoner in this fic *wink*) but because of a tragedy that landed the kpop industry. i didn't post it out of respect. so i try to polish it as best as i could which means adding and deleting plots that make sense within this fic and the smirch series (if you've read heeseung's ep, you're gonna see references that are thrown here too) also, because both mc and jay comes from a wealthy family with a business, you're gonna read business jargons from my business major and from watching too many "succession". oh, i’ve also opened an ask my character/behind-the-writing content for this series that you can check out right here. definitely recommend it if you are curious about what the characters have been up to in between the episodes so do ask and enjoy the messiness!

masterlist

jay felt naked without his skateboard by his side, but that is the consequence of delivering the stuff this day. heads upon heads all moving to one side as he lets out a tremendous sigh. his friends walk in front of him into the field on the school grounds, yet it’s not his school.

multiple pairs of feet drag on the stony pathway as they are walking around him, but he’s standing still in the middle of this commotion. jay opens the zipper of his backpack that dangles only one strap on his shoulder, pulling out the black plastic bag sat inside with his small notebook that has his marker stuck to it. after zipping the back, pages open as he searches for today’s date, who bought it, and the amount they're paying: matching the names to the accounts they used to contact him on their location—the plastic bag dangling on his wrist.

looking up from the book and screen, he can see his friends strolling to the bleachers—jake somewhere on the field, warming up for his match. jay sensed a tap on his shoulder as he faces where the touch comes from, seeing sunghoon looking at him; a smirk formed on his face and an unknown girl wrapped around his arm, not from the two schools competing today.

“you can handle giving them by yourself, right jjong?” sunghoon questioned, eyebrows raised as he retreats his hand back while jay’s looking at his best friend and the girl he knows he will find the next morning at their flat.

“of course, i’m used to it. fucker.” he replied, rolling his eyes, as the two boys chuckles. sunghoon then walks away, leaving him alone as he sees his friend’s hand lowering down the girl’s back—walking somewhere that isn’t the seat of the rugby match. jay looks at the two sets of bleachers behind the tall silver fences, one where his school seats—the maroon and silver uniform ties on the necks of the people watching are enough for him to know—and the other where the rivals seat with their dark blue blazers instead of the black ones decelis uses. his eyes scanning the perimeter for the faces of the people that are going to pick up their order, looking for the appearance he has memorized from stalking their instagram profiles.

when the bat mascot came out to the sidelines, waiting for the teams to arrive at the field, he already meets a few of his customers. one was a member of a dance club of the school called “stray kids“. another one is the bassist for a band club that was rejuvenated after the seniors that are leaving one by one because of graduation. by the time he made his way to 1/4 off his list, he detects the orange and blue outfit of the moon knights, eyes scanning for a specific back which has written ‘sim 05’ on it, seeing his friend huddle up with the coach and his teammates. his eyes didn’t leave the field before the kick-off—the perfect time to hand the rest as other people are too focused on the game.

walking all around the bleachers—both of his own school and the rivals—jay can’t help to find the place where his friends sit. while walking down the stairs by the seats, he found them. taehyun recording the match with his digital camera, kai watching while also having another agatha christie book in his hand, sunoo and his best friend cheering for jake and following the chants that the seniors signals on the drums beside the bat mascot, and heeseung sitting beside beomgyu’s sister, hands interlock with each other while the brother is nowhere to be found.

jay does this every time his school has an event: opening a batch order along with sunghoon, closing it around three days before so he can pick the leaves and package them in his flat, then giving it to the people for a cash amount. a sporadic shop opens if they go to parties he or his friends find; usually either from heeseung, sunghoon, or beomgyu. all in all, he has done it so that he could be financially independent—as much as a high schooler could be independent. jay knew his market and the demand—something he learned from visits to his dad’s company back when he was in the US—he utilizes that as best as he can, being a homemade dealer who grew his stuff himself.

nearing the end of his list was around halftime for the rugby match. he can see the echos—decelis cheerleading team—doing their performance while the chants of his schoolmates' echos on the open field and surrounded by levant high; the home of their rivals today. a loyal customer of his just left his peripheral after getting her order as his eyes wander to the two bleachers he stood in between before landing on a group of cheerleaders from levant on the opposite side with their glittery purple outfits. aura is written on their torso in white with a flowy style like the ones the wind wakers has on their merchandise for enticing school spirit in the match season.

that’s when his eyes move again to see one of the cheer members sitting beside a girl in levant‘s blue blazer, speaking to her as she looks to the grass beneath her feet. a dark plastic back in her hands hanging above ground, swaying slowly from the blow of wind.

the echos finish performing as the cheer member besides the girl stood up before ruffling the girl’s hair, earning an offended look from her as the cheer member laughs before going to the field. jay then watches the other cheer member standing up to huddle with the member who sat beside the girl—the cheer captain—as they all give you a look that lingers on you, something burning as her shoulders slightly pop. even he could feel that sudden shiver from a few meters away. the girl sits back on the seat as she lifts the plastic bag and a hand appears to push it up onto her lap. something heavy is inside it.

the auras perform as he delivers the last orders on his list before going to the seat that taehyun and sunoo have put their bags on for his place as the second half starts. but he didn’t watch the match all the time. unlike his friends, his gaze somehow landed on where the girl is sitting. seeing her sit on the seat while eyes trailed the ball flying in the air, unlike the cheer captain beside her chatting along and cheering for the team. not even seeing her opening her mouth to speak.

it is the end of the match when he also stood up on the bleachers as the knights defeat the wakers by such a small margin. a well-performed comeback by jake as he gets the final score, seeing heeseung running down the bleachers and hugging the team along with jake’s teammates. jay lets out a smirk as he can watch the wide face on jake’s face—he deserves the captain role for this season—before his eyes view the disappointed levants who lose in their own home. a face of gloom as their crowd cheers for a good match, showing their sportive side.

he and his friends climb down from the bleachers as the decelis crowd blends in with the levants on the way out, creating a mob that moves in one stream like sardines. he bumps other students from all over his sides as they all just want one thing, to go out of the goddamn place. that’s when somebody slams onto his body with too much force, his abdomen pushed by a heavy item as he arrives at the open area where the crowd disperses. the person who bumps him must not be too far from him as he turns his head before something heavy rolls against his foot.

a can with a photo of a cat at the front?

jay looks up from the can that rests on his foot to find a girl crouching down, picking up similar cans in her hands before putting them into the plastic bag, a black plastic bag.

when she turns her body and walks away, jay finally realizes who she is. who he bumps into—well, who bumps into him.

the girl he saw before by the auras. you.

your figure retreats as he picks up the can before it got destroyed by people stomping on it. straightening his body, he glances at a few girls walking in front of him in levant‘s cheer uniform. the girl who sat beside you is one of them.

“so you’re just gonna let your sister walk away like that?” one of them said. seeing the girl clearer as something pops up in his head. familiarity.

“yeah, what a weirdo.” another said before they all looked at the girl. he tries to match the face with the name that he knows he recognized.

“let her be. i shouldn’t force her to sit with us.” her voice says as they travel away to the school building. jay stares at them as the name and face click in his head, his eyes glance to look at your retreating figure. connecting the last puzzle piece to find the connection between the two of you.

as a partygoer and a dealer, he has a fair share of people he recognizes either by buying his stuff or just by popularity. she is in the latter category.

jay knew the girl’s name is somi, and she is a senior. he can assure himself that he knows the face and, now, the name. he wasn't aware that she has a sister.

is that why you were so estranged?

jay’s head turns towards where you go as his tall stature helps to find you turning a corner outside the field and on the main street of the school. his legs instantly reacting as he chases after you, his backpack on his back while the can is in his hand. he almost lost you, a few seconds behind your figure. you turned away to a corner as he arrived at the intersection, disappearing like a ghost walking through a wall. but when he arrived at a small street right near levant high and don’t see you, he walks ever so slowly on the asphalt road. an entrance to an alley is visible in his view.

jay peeks from the corner to find someone crouching in the empty small alley wider than his wingspan. an abundance of fluff surrounding the figure, realizing the dark blue blazer the figure wears.

you.

meows surround you as jay also hears the sound of cracked open aluminium and you dropping the contents near the alley’s wall. the animals enclose as they all lean down to eat the food you give. jay steps in closer as he sees you tilting your head at the stray cats eating their food. the salty smell of fish filled the air as he focuses on how a smile formed on your face. even though he only saw a half, he can know yours is a pretty sweet one like a few of his friends have. his shoes moving on the ground creates a few scrapping noises that make the cats’ ears perk but haven’t moved their heads yet and focus on their food. the hand holding the can have sweat forming on it.

he steps closer as carefully as ever, doesn’t want to distract you or the cats and kittens he sees enjoying the feast. but his nose twitched every time he steps closer so that he could give the can. the felines’ ears perk again as he steps closer, the itch on his nose getting stronger as he tried his best to rub it away with his empty hand.

god must hate him as his face contorts, letting out his manly-ass sneeze.

his eyes immediately open to find the cats all having their fur rising, tails puffing up, and you drop to your knees from your crouching position—a shocked look on your face as it turns to despair when the cats run away from where you both are. your head turns to the cats running to hide as you then turn towards him, eyebrows furrowed.

“ugh.” was all you can let out as you put the contents of the can you held on to the leftovers of the feast. jay looks at you, guilt swallowing him up.

“sorry. i, i wanted to give you this.” he pushed the can to you as you crouched back, eyes squinting at him before you pulled the can from his grasp and put it into the empty plastic bag that you’d put in your blazer pocket.

he sees you moving from your position as you sit on the ground and lean against the wall across from where the cats should be eating. you were tying up the bag with the last can you didn’t notice was not there in your bag. you rub your face with the back of your hand, expecting the decelis boy to leave before you heard the scrapes and someone sliding down beside you. peering from the corner of your eyes you see the decelis rummaging from the pocket in his backpack and pulling out two things—one of them is a lighter.

he puts a stick that looks too thick to be a cigarette between his lips, cupping his hand near the lit flame as he inhales before letting out a cloud of white smoke, head leaning back against the wall like you. you find out the scent you smell is no scent of burning tobacco.

the guy’s a freaking stoner.

jay can sense the burning gaze on the side of his head as he looks to see you peering at him, eyes wandering from his side profile to the joint in his hand. he takes that you didn’t notice his prolonged stare at you, your sight focusing on the stick in his hand.

“a joint?”

jay spoke, feeling regret as he could only offer that. the only one he had left in his bag. his hand recognizes the heat spreading inside the stick as you look up at his face before returning to the item in his hand. that’s when you pinch the stick between your own fingers and he lets go, letting you take a small inhale. he thought you might cough from the unfamiliar sensation but you surprised him by taking another inhale, this time a large one, as you let out a fluffy white cloud.

you can handle your smoke seriously, jay thought.

“you’ve smoked before?” he asked, seeing you pause your hand with the joint between your fingers. he sees your eyes moving from his face to the joint then back, shaking your head.

“cigarettes then,” he said as you shrug, giving out the joint back into his fingers as you turn to gaze at the abandoned cat food, no cat in sight. jay can’t help but listen in on the serenity of the situation. in an alley somewhere near his rival school, deep enough to muffle all the sounds of car honks, people talking, and legs bustling down the street. he stays there with someone who seems to appreciate the serene atmosphere too. maybe enjoying it too much because he hadn’t heard you talk at all.

“sorry that we won against your school. i just have to tame my friend down in the field so y’all can get your chance.” he chuckles right at the end as you shrug your shoulders, a remorseful expression on your face before giving a nod and a thumbs up.

jay takes another puff as the cloud floats to the blue sky between buildings not tall enough to engulf the two of you. the white joins in with the water-made clouds on the blue background. though he enjoys the quietness, it still weirds him out, especially coming from having someone else living with him.

being flatmates with sunghoon and heeseung has its perks, but quietness is not one of them—especially for sunghoon cause he never seems to be quiet because it’s either he, the girl he brought home, his bed, or his wall that creates the noise. coming from a place like seattle was different enough, a place on the west coast of the american continent that, in his opinion, is a balance between loud and calm. but then, his parents decide to move him from a seaport city to a metropolis in korea without their guidance, just knowing heeseung—back then an acquaintance of his because both of their fathers are friends—goes here to decelis high.

jay was a special kid. an only child of a new money family who, by destiny, will be the only one to inherit the wealth his dad has accumulated. his parents know this too: making him go to different classes to learn the most spoken language other than his native korean and sort-of native english; treating him to the highs of life by bringing him to go to vacation in a yacht; and all the craps he has done. but jay has always wanted one thing.

liberty.

no matter what he wants, his parents will always be involved. if he wants a toy car, his dad always bought a lamborghini one, not knowing he wants a BMW instead. when he wants to eat fried chicken, they brought him to a fine dining restaurant at a hotel when all he wants was to eat fast-food fried chicken at KFC. it all seems, to him, his parents don’t respect his own wants and needs; always divert him to the “correct” path so he could stay in the upper-class lane in a minority part of some 400 million-populated united states.

that’s why he agreed to go home to his home country on his own. heeseung—being there—is enough for his parents to trust him. all of that so he can get the freedom he craves.

jay’s savings are always brimming with his parents’ allowance that is much bigger for his liking, believing that their son wants to pamper himself and heeseung if he likes. he is always been a generous fellow after all—giving tips to the minimum wage workers he encountered. but he always lied to his parents when asking about how much money he now has on his debit card, hiding from them he hasn’t spent much at all. because he rather tried to get money on his own.

teenagers like to experiment with other things to find their “true” selves. so it isn’t a surprise that drugs are one of them.

jay always thought that drugs were always a bad thing. but when he discovered that caffeine is also a drug, his perspective changed. drugs are dangerous because of how people want to consume them; it could be addictive, it could be hallucinogenic, and it could be depressant. it can get you high or it can make you travel to another dimension. cigarettes were too common for a drug along with caffeine and alcohol, and he doesn’t want to break people up by making chemical-based drugs like cocaine or meth. he picked the safest and most natural route that gives enough high: weed.

he didn’t expect he got a best friend and business partner who will do what he wants. sunghoon is a classmate of his back from his first year until now. they’re seatmates too back then as they both have the same surname of “park”—the only ones in class. sunghoon told him everything. his parents, being diplomats, made him stay at home with his beloved grandfather nearly two hours away from school. they talked about each other’s struggles to be from such high-status parents that they bond easily. sunghoon’s grandfather was a pretty rebellious kid himself—as told by his grandson—so he allowed sunghoon to live with him and heeseung, not wanting to tie him down.

jay comes to like and enjoy his group of friends. heeseung and sunghoon are his flatmates, jake the jock—though the boy himself doesn’t like the stereotyping, kai the brain, taehyun the quiet, sunoo the friendly, and beomgyu, who is seemingly the de facto leader alongside heeseung. with the inclusion of girls too such as sunoo’s childhood friend and beomgyu’s sister who is seemingly on good terms with heeseung after the debacle between them and her brother. he can see the cracks in the group there, getting more showing as beomgyu seems to be more unexpected than ever, taehyun staying by his side more often than usual.

“so you don’t talk or?” his mouth blurted out as he can only think of one thing with your quiet self beside him. his head moves to examine the corners of your mouth lifted, mouthing “depends” and he can pick up how the air around creates a slight sound from how your mouth moves.

hearing something rubbing the asphalt, he turns to see you’ve stood up, one hand holding the plastic bag with the last can of cat food, the other pulling out your phone from your blazer. as the screen illuminates your face, your eyes widen before you glance back at him. your palm opens, curving motion to him as he puts his palm in it as both grasp with each other and you pull him up with your might. his head moves flowy as you look closer to his face, seeing his iris dilated but not that much as he seems sober enough.

“go home.” you mouthed, no voice heard, as you pat his shoulder before pointing back behind your shoulder and giving him a tight-lip smile with a small wave. leaving him behind with his joint nearly burnt out in between his lips as he stares at your back before disappearing around the corner.

that was the only time he regretted not bringing his skateboard so he can chase you down. but he found another smell mixing with his marijuana. the scent of a rose that could come from one person: you.

-

the thoughts of you show up in jay’s mind sporadically. any time he catches sight of a stray cat. any time he smells the fragrance of a rose. any time he sees that dark blue blazer on a teenager. it’s as haunting as the day he moved here. the looming presence of his parents on each of his shoulders. you’re now in their place.

it truly is weird, he realized. he didn’t know you until that day. the pieces of knowledge he has about you from that minuscule interaction are: you’re a levant high student and, presumably, you’re the sister of one of the famous students in that, (l/n) somi. jay has always learned to stay determined and focused on what he wants. any knowledge or information he could get that is beneficial to him. but it contradicts what his parents allow or don’t allow him to do or act. he is determined to support his group of friends any other way. he is determined to be independent outside of his wealth. now, he is determined to get to know you.

days have passed since you left that alley. he never expected to see you soon, especially with the heightened rivalry of the rugby season. he never said never because as jake said while twirling his rugby ball, “though we beat them. this is still preliminary. they can come back.” he could still find you someday, sometime.

but the universe said otherwise when he did “errands”, with only a couple of packages left to deliver as he roams the street downtown, passing by buildings of stores when he recognize the arcade heeseung introduced to him a week ago. and the group of dark-blue-blazer-wearing girls crowding a claw machine outside.

the haunting starts once again when he sees the blazer. but this is different. one familiar head stood out to him, the only quiet one in a group of cheering girls, as one of them successfully got a plushie. all except for her.

“great job, lily!” he catches one of them saying as he steps to the side, somehow hidden, but he can still listen to them.

“thanks, guys.” he heard the distinct australian accent—something he’s familiar with from hanging out with jake a tad bit too much.

all of their figures covered the last girl as they faced away from jay. the only one not having their hands full wrapping the plushie. the tallest out of the three approaches the girl. his eyes widen as he realizes who is being hyped up.

“come on! you can do this, (y/n)!” the girl said as she shake your shoulders. you give a tight-lip smile, seeing how tense your body is as if you’re holding something back. another girl with long hair pulls out a silver item from her pocket—a coin glinting under the sunlight. he views how each member of your group kisses the coin with you holding it and giving the ultimate kiss. you push the coin into the slot as the claw machine hums. the girls surround the machine, obscuring him from the prizes.

he was also holding his breath as the claw moved from the joystick you were handling. big shifts to the upper-right side before you do small jerks, adjusting the claw to your chosen prize. the anticipation kills him as he can only watch the descending claw before it’s concealed by the girls’ figures. he waited and waited for at least a che-

“four out of four!!!!”

your friends were jumping around as you kneel to get your prize, laughter flutters in their space from the surprising yet expected outcome. what he can’t believe is that even you laugh, the corner of your lips rising as you smile the widest he has ever seen. but it doesn’t last long as your curved corners fall. when he looks up at your eyes to see them focused on him.

you grasp onto your new—not surprising—kitten plushie, hugging it closer to cover the lower part of your face. your eyes fluttering away from his eye contact but your head is still facing his way as if you’re blanking his existence out of your mind and presence. the sudden change in you felt like whiplash to him, but it’s as if your friends expected it to happen as they near you before guiding you to walk away from the machine and arcade; leaving him with your lingering sense once again. smell, and now, sight.

jay didn’t expect so many orders from levant high students after the game. usually, an influx of sales came during sports season but no influx is attributed to a specific school—he wonders if something happened for them to want to try weed. maybe it’s because of that new tv show filled with teenagers doing unexpected shit, or people trying to experience something new other than cigarettes.

he had to wander from here and there around their area for about a week now, delivering the goods. sometimes finding them in hidden places like a dark pc bang near the rows of shops a few blocks from their school. sometimes in the open at the usual skating park he goes to. it was a wonderful week for his business out of the expected great season he hopefully gets in selling. but it’s also a busy one as his business partner is pining over multiple girls. yes, plural. changing one right after the other any other day. he will not be surprised if his dark circles will be more prominent in the following days as the sound of banging walls comes from behind his headboard.

twirling his black marker, the wind is blowing his hair out. his body tilts and balances as the skateboard beneath him rolls on the roughly-textured flat surface of the sidewalk. he looks at the approaching high walls of his school’s rival, the sea of students splitting up from his way before leaving specks of them as he nears the gates. the boy sees a bunch of people by the bus stop when he stops and kicks his skateboard up to grab it. pulling out his phone, he awaits his last customer’s confirmation of their whereabouts. their last message was to meet him by their school entrance.

jay’s sight wanders around the environment before his feet brought him near the front gate of the school. the benches that line up the road are vacant—he remembers his friends and him waiting there before the match where he is left. the students must have gone back to their respective homes to make them so vacant, but there is no sign of his buyer. that’s when he thought he misheard something.

sniffles.

surely spring’s weather causes people to have a runny nose and make them sniffle it up. but this one is not that. heck, there’s nobody he passes by while he is there listening to that faded sound.

jay turns to find the source before landing on one site. a figure folding its body forward is sitting on one bench obscured beneath the shadow of a tree. their hands covering their face as their body shook from the uncontrollable emotions flowing out. the sniffles getting louder as he nears them. but the scrapes of the ground each time he steps closer didn’t help. the person lifts their upper body before wiping the fallen tears on their cheekbones.

you.

you rubbed away your cheeks multiple times as if the stain still sticks, nibbling your teeth as you look away from the boy in front of you. the sound of a crunchy plastic bag is heard from beside you as he sees the glimpse of aluminium cans inside. his mind returns to how your eyes gazed at him a week back. first with annoyance, second with caution. today, with overwhelming foggy grey resembling the dark clouds waiting for its time to drop rain.

“hey-“

you stood up from the bench when jay called you, grabbing onto your belongings and walking towards him on the almost non-existing dirt path. you stride past his body away as your steps increase in pace, faltering away outside the gates as he turns around. something you have done to him twice. though he is under different circumstances: he doesn’t need to follow you. all he can do is leave you behind to deliver the goods and get his money. or he could follow so he can comfort you. because, though he only knows you as that levant girl who gives food to stray cats, he never offers somebody his roll.

as if he can smell your rose scent as a trace, he frowns before following your retreating figure meters away from him, opening the text to his customer before saying.

“fuck u for ghosting me. u’ll get ur goods tomorrow.“

jay can’t use his skateboard to get to you as the street is full of people. moving around people waiting for the crosswalk lights to turn green, around customers buying street, and any other person of all shapes and sizes. but his tall stature helps him see you at the edge of his vision, catching you turning corners before he runs to get you.

jay heaves as he turns the last corner, his shoulder leaning against the brick wall as he slumps—he regretted not joining the weekly jog jake does along with sunghoon and beomgyu. eyes looking down at the asphalt while he catches his breath, he uprights his figure so he can continue to follow you.

“for fuck-“ he jumps as he sees an apparition in front of him.

you standing right before him.

an unamused look that is unnatural in your bloodshot eyes burns him. yet, for him, it makes sense.

you nibble your bottom lip as you gaze at him, tilting your head, silently telling him to speak. jay never felt this startled that his senses are hyperaware—even he can listen to chirpings from blocks away.

“i wanna offer to help you give out the food.” he made up something as best as he can. yet, he can see from your eyes that you weren’t believing him completely.

“you know, repaying what i’ve done a week ago?” he rubs his neck.

you killed it, jay. for god’s sake. he thought. he can easily turn around before he embarrasses himself again. jay has never been bold to comfort someone. but you intrigue him. you intrigue him so much more than the crush he got on his classmate back in the first year, before sunghoon got her first and hook up with her. how you are, allegedly, the hidden sibling of one of your school’s popular students, is shocking in this day and age where social media and people prying on people’s privacy are normal. yet, you don’t even seem to talk at all and you’re not treated the same as somi is in your environment.

you push your hand out, open palm, as you sniffle back your leftover emotions. with your other hand, you point to the name tag on one side of your blazer.

(l/n) (y/n). the same last name as who he can now confirm is your sister.

“i’m jay.” he shakes your hand with his before he sees you tilting your head again, looking towards his chest. he follows your eyesight to the name tag on his blazer that is written park jongseong.

“it’s my birth name,” he replied before he caught your hum and let go of his grasp. you use your chin to point towards him before turning around, signaling for him to follow you as you grab one can from the dangling plastic bag and push it to his hand.

he tried his best not to scare any feline you’ve called or approach the two of you as you open the canned food, especially trying his best to not sneeze. you and he walk around one neighbourhood full of stray cats as one by one, the weight of the plastic bag lightens with the now empty cans being put inside to be put away and recycled.

in the last alleyway he and you travel, the adult cat there seems to have known your presence, approaching you when you walk closer and rubbing against your legs so you can lean down and pat its head. squeaks and tiny meows enter his ears as he looks at a cardboard box that is lightly shaking. jay approaches closer alongside you as you put the can with the leftover food for the cat, crouching down to see a litter of kittens inside crawling around and even attempting to climb outside the cardboard box. the scratchy sound of the claw against the box’s texture seems to excite the other ones so that they all wake up.

jay felt something wet on his hand as the cat—the mother of the kittens—smell his scent before rubbing her head on his palm, allowing him to pat her head and body gently. you let yourself sit on the asphalt alley as you picked up the kittens outside and onto your skirt-covered lap, hearing your small chuckles along with the kittens’ meow as they scattered around the two of you. he follows suit as a few of them approach him and even climbing onto his skateboard as the kitten’s stance change from the swaying board.

the serenity he recognizes between the two of you comes back in his mind as he stares at the fluffy felines who approach him and then you. one of them seems to like you enough that they stick to you while their siblings wander towards his sitting space or eat with their mom. the sun above them is now falling towards the west as jay enjoys a moment he hasn’t done before. knowing his parents’ “overprotectiveness”, he could never play outside, let alone play with stray animals.

“thank you.” someone says before he lifts his head from a kitten on his lap to you, who is glancing at him. he didn’t even realize it was you who spoke before he is a beat too late.

“she speaks!” jay exclaimed as he sees you pout, shaking your head. as you continue playing with the kittens that are surrounding you. picking one up to put in your lap, you let the kitten playfully bite onto your finger as he stares at it, wondering if you felt the pain from the bites or if you're benumbed by it.

“so, correct me if i’m wrong, but your sister is somi, right?” he asked, which make quiet down before you slowly nod, the corner of your lips turned slightly upside down. yet, jay doesn’t notice and continues his tangent.

“how has anyone not known of your presence?”

“i like it that way.” you cut him off. you sigh as you grab the kitten’s small body off of you, scooting closer. it scared you that your voice might be too soft so he couldn’t hear. well, you rarely talk after all.

“my sister and i are two different people.” you spoke to him, so soft and so articulated that he can hear a certain accent that you have. “what you presume about her cannot be the same as how you presume about me.” you tilted your head away, not wanting to lay your eyes on him. yet, your voice envelops his mind with how pretty yet haunting it is, especially from your quiet persona.

his mind recalls how somi is one of the people in the wealthy crowd. how, technically, you can be known as a chaebol, feeding from the silver spoon that your parents have served you. an old money family and maybe much wealthier than his own family. you lean your head to face him once again, your eyes staring his way but avoiding his own eyes, lips pouting as he gazes at you.

“maybe i’m much more like you,” you said, looking down at your palm before putting two fingers up from one of your hands, resembling how one holds a roll of cigarette right in between the two before they're being grabbed by the kitten as it bites them once again.

you give the kitten on your hold the last few pats before putting the feline on top of his skateboard, letting you scan the scratch on the top side which is dark-coloured, even finding a shoe mark on it.

“why are you here, jongseong?”

jay gulps his saliva down when he heard you call him by his birth name. even with your low-volume voice, the empty atmosphere of the alley lets him hear your words, and it sends shivers down his spine. he never felt this nervous since he tested to go to decelis high. the vision of the future is blurry but he knew that when he passed, he will be happier. but, he just now realized how he has pinned you unconsciously into a box and it terrifies him you notice. he had no choice but to tell the truth.

“you interest me. seeing you cry makes me want to comfort you. seeing you alone on that first row of the crowd catches my eye. seeing you with your plastic bag full of cat food makes me intrigued by you. seeing you here, living your life with a quiet demeanor… you know what i’ll say next.” he let out his thoughts and all you can do is give him a small smile.

“well…” you put your hands on top of where your heart is. chuckles flow out of you, shrugging your shoulders as you let your sight wanders to the alleyway that is only you and he in it.

“it’s funny, innit? how you can easily fancy me when i don’t even try to?” you commented, biting your bottom lip as you accidentally let out the slang words you tried your best not to speak out after moving back here. your gaze goes to his skateboard, “though i am intrigued with riding a skateboard.”

jay’s eyebrows rose from your comment, signaling to him how you want to try it. “you don’t know how to?” he confirmed with your shaking head.

“then, i’ll teach you next time.”

“will there be one?” you glance between your uniform and his which he catches. though you don’t join in on your school’s pop culture, you knew about your school’s rivalry with decelis high. if there was a history of high school fights outside of sports and formal competition, it would be between decelis and levant. though that tradition has dwindled, the tension is still there. that’s why both of your schools tried their best to compete; academically and in other ways. you remembered there was a romeo and juliet situation between both schools way back when and their relationship help with erasing the fighting tradition between the two students. but, there is still an unspoken rule between levant students to not have relations with decelis students whatsoever.

your sister told you to stay away from them after her terrible memories of hooking up with a decelis student. how erratic they are, but they’re also one of the nicest people she knew back then. she knows how narcissistic they are after a few times and now she warns you to stay away. hence, your comment that the boy seems to understand too.

“outside of school grounds. outside of the uniform. you and i, okay?” he replied. the sound of a ringtone playing startled the kittens around him as he picked up his phone. a “shit” fell from his mouth as he answered. you heard him talk about what you can assume to be the weed that he introduces to you but there’s no reason someone calls him about it. does he know someone who sells it?

one of jongseong’s hands wraps around one of your wrists as he uncapped his marker hastily with that same hand—as if he is learning to do that for efficiency. you feel the tickle and moist of the marker on your skin, seeing him writing something on your forearm as you hold it in place while his phone is pushed against his ear. he stopped writing as he holds onto your hand until the call ends and he puts your arm back on your thigh before standing up.

“i have errands to do. sorry for leaving you behind,” he answered, and you helped put the kittens back in the box as the mom jumps in and immediately groomed them. you see the boy already on his skateboard, ready to push his leg and skate away.

“call me, kay?” he gives a small smirk before letting out a last “see ya.” he skates away from the alley, leaving you behind as you unrolled your blazer’s sleeve, seeing the phone number written on your forearm.

-

you miss the home that you had for a decade.

you miss the salty smell of the sea blocks away from your front door and how effortlessly you can go to the pier to take a break from your increasing-in-level studies. it is because you’ve always seen it as a mistake for your parents to bring you back here to seoul, deep down knowing just how much they don’t acknowledge your well-being here. it is as if you haven’t left that town in the first place, seeing yourself as another cog in their clockwork.

brighton is a small town compared to the UK’s capital and not as larger-than-life as the urban metropolis you live in now. but even a place that small can mean so much for a little girl like you who can compare the two. they sent you there after all and you don’t know the detailed reason why they did it, even when you’re in the clouds thousands of meters above the ground. ‘how can they let you go so easily?‘ you remembered yourself pondering, watching the people turning into ants as the hum from the plane continues to sound before it became a common buzz for your ears.

fragmented memories appear in your head as you reflect on how close you are with your sister, somi, back then. “two peas in a pod”, as she likes to say it; always stayed by each other’s side. both of you play house together in a dollhouse your parents bought, do random activities in your backyard garden such as making tea parties, and swim in the large pool your mansion owns—submerged by both the sound of nature muffled with the sloshing water. yet, none of your parents is in your sight during that thing, making housekeepers serve you as they focus on their other child: the conglomerate you will inherit in the future.

or so you thought when your parents bring you along to the airport, assuming that you were going to say your farewells to your uncle and aunt that were going back to the UK—instead of only the couple going home, they have one more person who they brought with them.

somi was too young to give an opinion of letting her younger sister go, wanting her chauffeur to bring her to the airport instead of her elementary school after he told her you went there—something her parents have told him not to tell as they know she will be in a rage, or “nag” as they like to call it. she believed you stayed home because you were sick, not noticing a suitcase prepared right beside your bed as she left you asleep while smoothing down her uniform. as the years went by, she has to live with only chunks of you in her mind having fun while going to school, being self-taught by your parents business jargons, and learn how to manage things such as her stuff; an early management training to early for one’s liking. for the longest time your parents separated you both, she thought they also taught the same thing as her too.

you always believed that they might surprise visit you one day after you came back from primary school, expecting to find your sister’s grin and her suitcase with a different colour compared to yours at the front door of the house you reside in. you’ve wondered if your parents have forgotten you after a year there—making you think they see you as a mere relative—while you know have adapted to your aunt and uncle being your parent figures instead. they taught you everything you needed outside of what you learn in the education system, but seemingly not involving you in the business side of things that you’ve known before. much different from the complicated words somi has to learn back home when she enters elementary. you don’t even remember if you have ever seen your uncle taking any part in the family business, only describing to you the concept of a family trust and how you, he, and your aunt own a part in it.

at the dining table in your last year of primary, your uncle finally told you why you were here.

“it’s because your dad found a successor in somi, like how your granddad saw him back then.“ he then points between you and himself, “we are the spares of the family, (y/n). though we do have a voice, especially in the voting trust, they won’t and don’t give us access to the family business, no matter how useful it is to have more than one family member working even in there.“ your uncle continue as you glance at your aunt, giving you a small nod and a solemn smile.

you grip your utensils, realizing how left out you are, like a pain plunge into your soul as your uncle chuckled, “just like the royal family, only one can be the highest monarch. and our family is running on the same first-child basis as what they have here."

with that knowledge out of the way, you accepted your status. you accept that you’re a trust fund baby and you may lavish on whatever money you can get from the piece of the trust you own. then, you’ve planned out your future. how you will spend your adolescent years here, going until sixth form, doing a-levels, entering a prestigious university here, and then doing whatever you want for the rest of your life.

that is until your parents called you to go back home to korea when you’re entering year 10 of secondary school.

there is fear within you when you face them for the first time in a decade. comparing when you left to when you arrived back is weird, how unfamiliar all of this has been, even though pictures of the environment outside of the window of the car still look the same as the ones burn in your memory; especially not knowing the motives for why they sent you away other than they see you as a spare. yet, they also don’t give any explanation on why they want you back. in a blink of an eye and a step towards them, you don’t know what to say or do in their presence.

you’re not a talkative person per se, one of the quiet ones in your class back in brighton and even quieter now. but the anxiousness grows as you went to the mansion you used to call home, how you watch more housekeepers roaming around than the ones you remember they have. then when you and your entourage arrived, you finally meet your sister wearing her high school uniform. and you couldn’t openly say “hi”, giving only a small wave, to which she replied with a small smile. your sister grew up beautifully, especially with her blonde hair that makes her appearance resemble a barbie doll you both used to play with together. still, you don’t comprehend what your parents are going to do to you and you stayed quiet about it until these days.

going to levant, they expected you to follow what somi is doing by everyone around you. blend in well, be part of the popular kind, go do cheer, wear feminine accessories and style, and you did so because you’re worried—still are—that they’re going to spare you away once again. in your mind, this was a way to redeem yourself, to show them they’re going to regret sending you away. back in your first year of high school, you still have a glimmer of hope that they see you differently and will treat you differently, unlike what your granddad does to your uncle and your dad. but going to school here changes what you thought of as something bad, is now much, much worse.

your quiet demeanour back in brighton allowed others to bully you, but you thought it’s what kids do—joking around about someone different from them in any aspect—and you fought back. you wanted to use your family name as a shield when you realized they know nothing about it other than the global company your family owns. so, you persevere. you tough it up and face them by not caring about them. and they accepted you, the quiet alien who likes cats because she said she relates to them so much, into the in-group enough that you have a small circle of friends. but here in seoul, the level of toxicity sky-rocketed and you never felt it boil your skin until you see what they do in cheer practice.

eavesdropping from people, you only have two choices after seeing your fellow schoolmates’ drooping faces and awakening stress: you are going to either join the tradition or be an outcast. your sister chooses the former and her family name doesn’t help either—setting an obvious target on her back. when you caught wind of this, you got even quieter, silent, and stealthily wanders under somi’s shadow. yet, having a sister for cheer captain, you can’t say you don’t have privilege of how your senior treats you. but when you see the other first-year students being overwhelmingly harassed at practice behind the coaches’ guides, you choose to stay silent verbally, but your action contradicts it.

you embrace the other three that seem to agree with your plan—lily, haewon, and yuna—as you all tried to expose the toxicity of the cheer group: collecting evidence from photos and audio recordings before sending it to the principal anonymously, and all of you agree to quit right after sending it. the senior cheer members have a smug smile when they know that their weakest soldiers have fallen and left the squad, but they didn’t expect you to leave, somi didn’t even if she lived in the same house as yours; your room is in the other side of the house from hers. that was the first and only time you’ve used your actual voice to them. that was the only time you ever felt powerful against them before you fade again into obscurity.

the comfort level between the four of you lets you try to speak to them, and they’re so nice to you, letting you set your own pace to open up while the others also do the same thing. lily’s accent caught your attention and confirmed when she said she moved here from australia—she has the same reaction when you spoke and caught a bit of an accent and slang words in the way you talk, haewon never fail to crack your group up from her funny expressions and jokes, while yuna brings out the sassy yet sweet aura of the group. all of you stayed together throughout the first year and even got closer as you all are assigned to the same class this year.

your outings with them become more of a routine, how they give their free time to help you give out food to stray cats, go to the arcade, and other things. being the spare, you embraced your inner princess margaret and start to slowly defy what your parent expects from you, which you now realized because they want you to become somi 2.0. if they don’t want you as yourself, might as well make you like their ideal successor. well speaking of it, that is what they told you after you came back home too late for your parents’ liking, even though somi, who is a year older than you, is still out there.

“you either going to follow what we want of you, or you’re not going to have a piece of the company.“

gladly, you thought. but you remain silent and it is slowly frustrating them. you now knew your fear and anxiety can become a weapon against them.

you differentiate yourself from your sister, most of your clothes—all were somi’s hand-me-downs—are given to your housekeepers for them or if they have a child back home. you dressed more down-to-earth, quiet literally, with earthy colours that clash with your sister’s extravagant pastel blues and pinks. and you don’t care if your parents tell you their grimy, plus earthy colours look more business-savvy. you always use your pocket money to buy can food for stray cats at least once per week, getting your emotion sucked up by playing with them and giving good to beings that also live on this earth along with humans.

but even under a strong and mysterious persona, people perceived you in ways that they see as negative, calling you a weirdo, a black sheep, a failure, and comparing you to your sister behind their backs. and it all seems to break down when your carpool doesn’t arrive to get you home, seeing the text from your assigned chauffeur that they were fired. they were supposed to be on your side as they waited for you to finish giving the cats food and vouch for you. that day you finally broke down, the pressure from inside rising to get out of you.

that is until your second encounter with jay which makes you see a different light of him.

annoyance came to you when his sneeze scare the cats away, like what bloke can sneeze so loud that it rivals your uncle? nonetheless, when he offered you his roll of weed, you accepted it and you wing it. deep down, you were smirking at how the way you smoke makes him think that you’ve smoked before it is actually your first time, and you don’t care when the buzz reaches your head, sending you into an almost foggy state but making your senses hyper. he must have a high tolerance for being able to ride a skateboard while high, seeing the board with wheels poking out from beside his body when you caught him at the arcade.

but when he approached you in your most vulnerable self publicly, you didn’t expect him to utter those words to you. at first, he seemed to want to banter with you about what happened a week prior. but the fact that he fancies you is unexpected. a decelis high skater and stoner—definitely a bad boy type—finds you intriguing. no other person is as bold as him. sure, you have a few crushes yourself, but you always get the confirmation of people having a crush on you after the feelings were gone. no one has ever openly confessed their interest to you. and now, you didn’t know what to comment on other than the obvious fact that you’re also intrigued by him. but you both live different lives, going to rival schools, and you should not even be seen with him at all.

when you see the clutter around both of you, the skateboard was the only way you can catch him before he slithers away, and that’s what he promises you to do if you text him about it. so now here you are, the floor below you carries you higher and higher before the elevator lets out a “ding”, opening to the destination floor you’ve pressed the button to.

you look between the text he sends you and the apartment number as you walk down the clean and gleaming hallway, hearing the sound of scratching rubber from the trainers you’re wearing. eyes scanning the plaque, you slow down your steps as you arrived at the door with the number he texted you. you press the bell button as it is muffled behind the door, giving a small smile at the front door. a click sounded as the heavy door opens, and an almost recognizable girl behind the ajar door peeks out. she’s wearing very comfortable clothes that are too big for her figure—something you see yourself wearing—but her hooded eyes catch your attention. it looks as if she has been asleep and the bell you pressed has woken her up. but her upbeat demeanour says otherwise.

“hi, you must be the guest jay’s waiting for,” she said as the door widens. her hand outstretches for you to shake as she lets out a small smirk. jay didn’t tell you that she lives with a girl before, or maybe she was visiting to take a rest.

“you can come in, he’s in the shower.” the girl speaks as you follow her inside the apartment. shoes litter on the front of the door as the girl tried her best to tidy them up while mentioning her name, not catching it clearly as she moved away. when you step inside, you were met with a large open living space and a herbal scent mixing in the air—your rose scent is obscure by it. a hallway stretches as you see four different doors, but one side of the open space catches your eye. four tidy pots of plants rested on racks, the leaves creating almost like a bed but hollow underneath. your eyes follow the way the plants are structured, how jagged the leaves are, and how only odd numbers of them grow on each stem.

wait…

“i don’t smoke them.” you caught the girl say beside you. “but they do. they sell it actually. hoon and jay,” she continued as you turn towards her, making her neutral expression quickly drops.

“you don’t… know…” her words got a shrug from you as she chuckles, “i thought you were here to buy one.” you shake your head and wave your hands a no.

a boy’s voice call for the girl’s name from behind you, eyes widen as you now recognize who she is by the name that you should've asked her to repeat. that’s when you turn back to find one of the boys jay is friends with coming from one of the closed doors—you know because you’ve seen his face in a few photos from jay’s profile. he approaches her as you tried to distract yourself away from their conversation, taking a pretty long time before you heard her voice say, “i’m not leaving her behind. we can stay here first, right?”

“who’s her?” you glance at them.

“her.” she points to you as you give a tight-lip smile and a small wave.

“oh hi, didn’t see you- wait? aren’t you (y/n)? (l/n) (y/n)?” the boy said as you see his hand wrapped around the girl’s love handle. your jaw almost dropped as you realize the signals they give to you. staring at them as discreetly as possible you now realize who each of them is. the boy is heeseung, the famous student council president of your neighbouring school and after jogging the familiar name of the girl, you realized that that’s the name of beomgyu’s sister—her style and vibe almost resemble him in a way when you inspect her further. how you know about her is because of what your sister told you about her brother—her having a bad sentiment that you understand. you sure hope she’s not as shitty as her brother. but, you didn’t realize they’re exclusive to each other until his smooth moves.

“guilty.” you mouthed while showing a thumbs up.

heeseung lets out a giggle as he stares at you before turning to the girl. “jjong told me about her before, babe. you know?” he said before you see her eyes enlarged, letting out ahs and oohs as she then whispered into his ears. your body shrinks as you glance at them before looking away as fast as you can. the fear inside of you slowly grows as your mind flew everywhere, even taking a dip into your darkest thoughts that you’re always reminded of.

“guys. your giggles are creeping her out.” you heard a voice from behind them as you lean to the side, seeing the boy you were waiting for as you timidly wave. you scoot your way towards him, realizing how similar both of you dress with your grey-tone t-shirt and blue jeans combo. the boy seems to suspect something as you sensed your body being dragged towards him by your forearm. the couple looks at each other as they noticed their friend’s small initiation, letting out smiles to each before turning towards the two of you.

“good luck on your date, jongseong.” heeseung said as he lets out a charismatic smirk. if your eyes can get widened, it would as you glance at the boy beside you, seeing him with an unreadable expression.

“we should have a double date, triple i guess if hoon wanna joins but eh…” the girl said, a look of jokingly disgust on her face makes you chuckle inside before jay turns his body and walk towards the door. the atmosphere suddenly tightens as you turn to follow your hangout friend and skateboard trainer to the front door of the apartment.

“(y/n)?” your name is called as you turn your head towards the source. heeseung and the girl let out a solemn smile.

“i don’t know what kind of my magic you got to get my boy that whipped for you. but take care of him, okay? he’s been a lot more cranky these days.” heeseung answered as he glance at the girl beside her as she continues, “he only told us two about how he’s felt towards you. per what heeseung said, he hasn’t been this serious with someone since his best friend… yeah…”

you blinked and gave tiny nods to tell them you listen to them loud and clear. the mention of his best friend and how she paused her words makes you pierce a mental thumbtack in your memory. though you don’t know the detailed sentiment, you caught that this best friend of his—“hoon” as they like to call him—has meddled in his love life much more than jay’s liking.

giving a nod and a smile to the two, you return to the front door as you see jay tying his shoes up. besides where you crouched down to put your own on, a cabinet door opens as you catch two skateboards inside in an upright position. one is more decorated than the other—the one you recognize he brought when you both feed the cats. a shadow of jay’s stature steps near you as he pulls out the skateboards into his hands before pushing one towards you when you stand up.

“this is my spare one if this one gets broken. it’s the same model so it should be alright.” the boy explained as you pick it up with both of your hands, the weight of the wood is not as heavy as the cans of cat food you bring in your plastic bag—a few of them are in the backpack you’re wearing cause you rather be prepared than say sorry towards their cute little face for not filling their appetite. jay lets out a small smirk as he grabs his own backpack and tucks the skateboard between his arm and body.

“shall we?”

-

the street of seoul reminds you of brighton as you both walk on the pavement, sightseeing square-looking buildings in a street that is big enough for only two lanes going opposite ways. in a way, you’ve tried to embrace the “you from the past” now as best as you can. maybe your parents firing your chauffeur is a blessing in disguise at a point that you’ve tried to push yourself for nearly a year now, letting you take back the independence you used to have back in your aunt and uncle’s. in your house today, only your housekeepers care if you’re home or not but they also vouch for you if you go to the city by yourself—coming from the little acts of kindness you’ve done to them. the last day of the weekend is—of course, as crowded as usual. you gaze at the people going out with their families and friends to refresh their minds for the two days they have, and as you both walk near the han river, it seems that skateboarding is one way they refresh.

the skateboard on your hold is a tad bit slanted as you always repair how you grip it. the sound of rubbing on concrete decorates the area that is made of slopes and curves—the view of the river is marvellous and you immediately understand why this is jay’s favourite skate park. skateboarders of all diversity make the indents on the ground more colourful with their outfits, their boards, and a speck of street art on them. dangerous tricks such as kicks and spins make you grimace, catching the boy’s attention who is beside you.

“i will not teach you that. unless you’re fucking with me and you’re also great at skateboarding.” you let a chuckle at his comment as you stray from the main path of the han river recreational area to go to the skate park. when you both arrive there, you see people greeting jay in various ways, shouting their hellos, waving their hands, and giving him high five or fist pumps. seeing them in green cargo pants notes you to buy them and put them in your wardrobe—bloody hell, they look great. your eyes gaze at how smoothly they’re riding their skateboards around you, making your fingers fidget while holding the same thing in your hand.

“hey, we’re gonna put our bags and start, alright?” jay speaks to you right beside your ear. you turn to see how close his face is to yours, very close. you gaze at the faded freckles that decorated his cheekbones, his sun-kissed skin illuminated in the afternoon sun before your trance falls away as you give him a nod and go to the bench that he puts his backpack on. your shoulders are much lighter than before because of the less weight, you roll your shoulders to stretch them up as jay puts the skateboards right by his feet. your palms are getting sweaty as you tried your best to wipe them off. what if you fell? what if you’re reckless enough to do a mistake?

“so, do you have any experience with boards of any kind?” he asked as you tilt your head while stepping closer to him.

“i can ride a bicycle, not exactly a board but balancing on something, right?”

“yup. so…” you see him rub his hand as he drags the skateboard he lends to you with his foot, rolling it to put it in between the two of you. “we’re going to start with balancing. you’re gonna step on the board and tried to balance as best as you can.” he said.

you gnaw the inside of your cheek, staring interchangeably between the boy and the board between both of your feet. your experience riding a bicycle sure helps him calm down, but you didn’t mention that the last time you rode one was back in year 7 when, after a certain incident, you just haven’t thought of buying another one for yourself anymore. the tingling of the scar on your pelvis from falling off your bicycle comes back as you don’t know if you’re balanced enough for this.

as you put one foot on the board, it trembles under you. how different it is that you have to learn how to manage your weight and how much should you put on the surface that has touched. your hands are wide enough for you to get your sense of balance, lifting them as you focus on your feet more. when you felt like you’re ready enough, you lift your other foot off the ground and put it on the board beside yours. the adrenaline coursing through as you thought you nailed it on the first try, no need to embarrass yourse-

the board slips under your foot as hands hold onto both of your arms. you breathe rapidly as your heart thumps as if it’s near out of your ribcage. your reaction to one of your feet slipping to the ground came late as you finally hissed from the pain surging through your nerves, looking up to catch jay’s furrowed eyebrows as he stares at you. you knew from his eyes what his concern was and your nods seem to calm him down as his grip on you lessen.

“hold on to me if you need to, okay?” he reminds you as he drags the board to your feet once again and this time, you lean to what he said. one of your hands in jay’s as you step onto the shaky board one step at a time, letting him guide you upright as you stare at your feet once again.

“(y/n)?” you tried your best to stop your wobbly legs before looking up at him. jay’s face has a look that screams determination as he holds you with both hands near your elbows.

“eyes on me, okay? it’ll help with your balancing because of your center of gravity,” he tells you as you gulp down your saliva. breathing in and out, you straighten your posture enough as the board is getting not as shaky as the first time you rode it. how your eyes stay on his face is getting your cheeks warm, even if they’re looking downwards to your feet.

jay helps you to find your balance as he then teaches you how you use your foot to push the board for it to move, and how the board moves left and right depending on how you put the weight on your feet. and even if he felt confident that you can roll on your own by the end of the day, he didn’t expect you to nail it on the first try. you didn’t count how much you failed to roll and balance on the board; each time comes with you jumping from the moving board or slip off to the ground. with each accident, jay comes running to catch you before you fall or pull you up to your feet when you fell. but every time he sees you fall off the board, your chuckles always fill your presence. how nonchalantly you take this challenge and how you took this practice session as if you are having fun. and when you nailed it, he couldn’t help but clap as much as he can when you turn around and roll on the concrete before stopping in front of him.

“you did great.” he says as he pulls you close, not minding the proximity because of how close you two had been the entire time when he holds you to not let you fall. and you seem to not mind it either as you mouthed a “thanks” before you caress the back of your neck, letting you take a rest.

the refreshing water runs down your oesophagus until the very last drop. you work out your ankles from how hurt they are been mostly from slipping, resting them on top of the skateboard that you used as it drags back and forth following your movement. where’s jay, you asked? you heard his whoop as you stare at his figure flinging all around the slopes. how effortlessly he does aerial spins and kicks his skateboard 180 degrees before landing it perfectly. jay performs as if he is all by himself, with no one to bother him as he tries the tricks he has up his sleeves, but you have a nagging feeling that he is doing it to impress you too.

when jay is skateboarding away at the other side of the area, you let your vision gaze at the other people in your vicinity and the main path right beside the skate park. people riding bicycles, pushing strollers, and jogging goes by that path before you see people cruising down the path on a board, similar to a skateboard, albeit longer. that’s peng, you thought. skateboarding like jay is doing might be too daredevil-ish for you. maybe riding it that way will give you the same senses but much more relaxed.

“what’s peng???” a voice startles you as you found jay now standing beside where you sit, drinking his own water bottle before sitting down beside you. you don’t know if he’s asking you the thing that is peng or the definition of peng, but you answer as best as you perceived.

“i saw people cruising down the path with a board, but a longer one?” you quietly speak so only he can listen to you. he replied with a hum as his eyes landed on the path as more people on boards are riding on that path before going to face you.

“it’s a longboard, the one they’re using. skateboards are shorter but you can cruise with them too. i definitely see you do that more rather than doing tricks.” your eyes follow his movement as he looks down at both the skateboards under you. a chuckle came out and you mouthed “definitely”. you lean back and rested your hands beside you on the bench, seeing the blue sky that is drifting to the west, with the darkness coming from the horizon. you peer beside you and see jay taking a glimpse of you.

“so how is today’s lesson?” he playfully asked, as if you’re literally someone under his care, a trainer asking for feedback. to be honest, even with your hurting ankle that might cause unintentional consequences, this moment is the most brighton thing you ever felt in a long time. though you don’t want to undermine what you and your friends have, hanging out with someone new outside of the dramas in levant is refreshing.

you can only give a thumbs up which he replied with a wistful sigh. jay grabs onto his bag before zipping open the front pouch, letting you take a glimpse of two different boxes, one you’re familiar with and the other that is customized. he grabs the customized one and opens it for you to see the thick rolls of joint inside, pulling one out before closing it and replacing it with his lighter. jay expected little from smoking weed openly in a place full of people smoking, but he caught your glance and it immediately intimidates him.

you give him a small pout as you shift your head. the look in your eyes shines with panic and concern. jay understood what you meant whilst he pull out the joint from between his lips and returned it to the box before grabbing the cig box he kept, replacing it so he can blend in with the others. “much of a daredevil, aren’t you?” you commented as he flicks the lighter and put the flame on the cigarette butt.

“well, you’re right. that’ll be stupid of me to get caught having a joint on me in public areas where people can see,” jay spoke, smoke coming out of his mouth. he offered you the cylinder as you brought your lips to it, taking an inhale as the smoke warmed your mouth before pulling back and slowly letting them go. jay was holding his breath the whole time before he took another shot of the burning substance.

“is there a reason you like weed more than cigs?” you asked, genuinely curious to know from the amount he might consume not even for a week but a day of it. the perception of him being a stoner quickly changes as you now learn that he also makes them too, in his home for bloody heck.

“i like the high it gives me.” he answered with a general answer for a stoner, “and to spite my parents.” jay peeks at you from the corner of his eyes. your body, at once, turns rigid when he mentions ‘parents’. all the memories you had about your parents crawling up in your mind and enveloping your vision in it.

“is that why you decide to sell it too?” you catch his enlarged eyes as he looks between the burning cig that is halfway down, before towards you. you reaffirm his unspoken question with a nod before he exhales the air he was holding.

“i’m trying to be financially independent being left alone here. my parents living in seattle have been pampering me so much it annoys me, you know?” he told you as you analyze it. how by the words he said alone, you can conclude: how wealthy his parents are, how he has been holding back from indulging in what he wants, and how he has lived outside of seoul. none of that information is present in his instagram profile—you feel dodgy when you see the well-built apartment he lives in, but it’s still not enough of a prediction for past you. you give him a small nod, learning how similar yet on the different side of the spectrum both of you are.

“what business does your family run?” jay lets out a tight-lip smile as he turns to you after finishing your question, puffing out the smoke from the cigarette before stretching his hand towards you once again, allowing you to take another hit.

“travel agency. helping tourists on their vacation in various countries in asia. providing tour guide, setting up tours, et cetera.” you let out a smile as your tongue rubs the residue of the cigarette that rests on your teeth. how sticky it felt you’re familiarizing yourself. you definitely need to brush your teeth as soon as possible when you get home.

“if you know somi, you must have heard my media conglomerate family then. though i’m not the one they're pushing to stay in the limelight like she is.” you let out as you nod as you giggled. “crazy how similar we are, huh?” your comment takes his attention as your giggles die down. the sky above you is darkening as the streetlights are turning on, yet you both didn’t want this to end. but even that, he thought it was not the right time to ask you to elaborate.

“so in that apartment, you live alone?”

“nah. heeseung and sunghoon are my roommates.” jay closed his eyes as he sees the faces of his friends in sight. the ridiculousness of their attitudes back on the bench they always hang out on at school. “we have this gang of friends at school, all nine- well, ten of us now that always hang with each other.” you let a hum as he continues to introduce his friends.

heeseung, other than the council president of decelis, is his roommate whom he has met back when he lived in the US—their fathers are friends and that’s why he allowed the boy to live with heeseung. sunghoon is his best friend—the “hoon” guy you’ve been hearing—has his troublemaker ways. jay mentions how sunghoon is his business partner, helping to send their orders away and more of the one that works in the field. but when you see him mentioning his best friend, you can view how his eyes turn fiery—heeseung told you how cranky he has been, is it because of him?

he continues introducing you to the other people in the gang. kai is a debate club member. his talkative nature makes him a great person who could convince people in an argument—he gave an example of the guy being the mc for their family feud-style game night. jake is the captain of the rugby team this season—you chuckle at how he still apologizes that your school lost against them as if you care about it. he mentions how many of his friends—nearly half—are part of the film club. he mentions sunoo and his best friend, who he describes as the sunshine siblings because of how playful they are. taehyun, who is their documentary guy, loves his camera, and brings it with him all the time—you might view yourself in him. then beomgyu, the star actor of the club. the most famous senior in the school other than heeseung as he explained.

“and beomgyu’s sister who is now heeseung’s girlfriend. they had a mess in the beginning and because of that, beomgyu’s not been around us for a while now, bringing taehyun with him for his bidding.” he lets out a sigh, finishes with bitterness on his tongue as you let out a wide smile from how he looks knackered just for describing his nine friends.

“i could say the same to you about my three friends though we don’t seem as chaotic as you guys are. they’re lovable, sassy, funny, and determined at the same time. we met in the cheer squad before all of us called it quits.” you brush your hair as you stare back at him, your smile turning sombre as the mention of them brought you to the haunting memories of constant harassment.

“that’s why i saw you beside your sister back in the match,” jay spoke enthusiastically before he turns towards you, your eyebrows already raised.

“no- no, i didn’t stalk you. i just saw you, okay? your sister ruffling your head before she left to do her routine.” he described perfectly what happened at the match as you give the benefit of the doubt about him. that day, your sister was trying to convince you to go back to the squad again. but the way you catch them treating your junior like crap, you were pissed off. you only come and attend that match so that it’ll be easier to give out the food for the felines. you didn’t think anyone notice it, especially from the school that you’re competing with.

“we don’t have the best sibling relationship. family things,” you spoke out the fact. taking yourself back to how you’re overshadowed by your sister’s presence and how you want to escape it. even with how much you avoid being associated with her, people still know you as her sister.

“i feel you, though not the sibling one ‘cause i’m an only child.”

“that’s unlucky. new money sole successor. no wonder your parents are pampering you so much.” your comment earns a laugh from jay as he nods his head, knowing that is the truth he carried. “i can’t say much being a trust fund baby with parents that neglects you.” you retorted as you gaze back at him.

“my life isn’t as perfect as you think it is.” the sun has now sunk behind the surrounding skyscrapers. the bridges that carry motorcycles, cars, and underground trains passing by make a beautiful silhouette. usually, by this time, you were supposed to be at home. but since your housekeepers help vouch for you and your parents are having a big board of directors meeting—usually takes hours to finish—they won’t snitch on you. they haven’t snitched on you even when you were with your friends playing in the arcade until midnight and later on.

jay drops his cigarette and puts it out with a step of his foot before you gaze at him, eyes looking all over his face that is illuminated by the streetlight behind you. the skaters dwindled in numbers as only a few people are on the slopes—the ones that are brave enough to trek the dark and uncertain curves with lights at the bottom.

“it’s getting late and tomorrow we have sch-“

“can we smoke a spliff?” you cut him off, pausing him before he looks at you with uncertainty in his eyes.

“are you sure?” he asked once again, hands already pulling the box where he puts it. you instinctively nod.

“i don’t want this to end yet,” you tell your sentiment as many thoughts have infiltrated your mind. maybe the buzz can help you calm down more. your eyes stick to the edge of the slope as you hear the flick and light coming from beside you. jay take in the newly lit spliff before giving it to you as you took one puff yourself. it circulates inside your mouth and the grass scent is catching you off guard before you let it out. it’s warm but you know you’re gonna get the buzz you’ve felt again.

your head seems heavy as you take a few more puffs of the roll, letting the quiet atmosphere calm you down. the drug urging you to speak anything that comes into your mind. “you know,” you straighten your sitting posture, “that time when you offer me your spliff, i haven’t actually smoked before…”

“the fuck?!” the boy exclaims, unhinged just like you do as you sense the buzz in your head pressing down the anxiety and fear that always culminate in your mind.

“yeah…” your words roll out. how your senses heightened as though you’re still sober but with how heavy your head is, you let it relaxes you.

“you were so good at it though,” he remarks as you let out a giggle.

“do i? to be honest, i’m just winging it back then. i didn’t understand shit.” your giggly reply makes him giggle too. seeing the white smoke floating and disperse into the darkening sky makes you stare at the buildings all around you. their illuminated windows resemble faux stars that decorate the night sky. you always like to stargaze, sitting on the sand of the beach as you stare at the stars from your position by the ocean waves. it is one of your favourite past times there and you always tell your aunt where your whereabouts will be and if she’ll be searching for you. the lights in seoul are too bright for you to stargaze, but you might as well cherish anytime you could get outside of your house, especially with people you are comfortable with. jay included.

“why weed? why not… pokemon trading cards for a business?” your ridiculous question earns a chuckle from both of you—your sober part now realizing how talkative and giggly you are under the influence. jay runs his tongue on his chapped lips as he peeks at you from the corner of his eyes. his foot fidgets with the skateboard under your feet, swaying from side to side.

“finding an opportunity in an almost empty market segment, you know?” you heard him use the business jargon your parents also use as you pursed your lips. holding back your laugh, he is the one that hooks you up to let it out. your head is lolling away from the times you take a hit from the blunt and you’ve also noticed how relaxed jay looked, he used to fidget all the time—playing with his fingers, playing with the tip of his toes inside his shoes, nibble on his bottom lip—but now with both of you under a much stronger influence, he seems decent enough and much more hyper about his sense.

taking the last hit for both of you as the flame consumes the rest of the joint, the grassy stench of the substance overwhelming your sense of smell, almost vegetable-like as you wave your hand to get rid of the surrounding scent. maybe you’re not thinking straight enough, but you reached for your bag and pull out your perfume: rose-scented that you’ve been wearing. though it smells heavy now, you found a lighter-smelling one back in brighton that makes you like the scent and you regretted not buying a bulk of it to bring here.

spraying it on your wrists and neck, you rub the spots as the aroma masks the one you’ve been smelling. you glance at the boy beside you who is also sniffing the air, a content smile on his face. hand instinctively pushes the item towards him. he looks down at it before looking at you give a smile. jay picks up the perfume and sprays it in the same spots as you did, rubbing them before giving it back to you.

“this is much better than the musk scent i usually wear,” he said as you let out a chuckle, a dry one to be in fact, which you follow with a cough. that’s when your nerves are aware of how dry your throat is. when you reached for your bottle, you were met with the lightweight material with only droplets inside.

“think i should head home. i’m freaking parched,” you told him as he covers his mouth before facing you and nods. when you stand up, you can now feel the weight that shows up from your head. but the evening gusts of wind help your eyes flutter open as you picked up the skateboard before something touches your elbow. jay holding you before you straighten yourself up.

“try riding it on the main path,” he comments as you stare at him with furrowed eyebrows, leaning in closer to him as you recognize your usual rose scent on him.

“are you fucking crazy? i’m not even great enough to skate and now you want me to do it high? freaking dammit jongseong.” you shake your head from his challenge as he then holds both of your shoulders, letting you settle down from your almost tamper tantrum.

“it’s the best feeling in the fucking world, (y/n). believe me.” jay stares right into your eyes. how the building lights behind you shine in them like it reflects stars. how big his pupil has gotten to resemble the night sky. he turns your body as you see white lights decorating under the bridge by the main path.

“that’s the convenience store. we’re gonna buy some stuff ‘cause i’m also getting hungry.” you poked your tongue inside your cheek as you glimpse at him. “you can do it. i believe in you.”

you let out a small, uncertain smile as you nod, letting yourself out of his grasp as you both walk towards the now emptier path. jay sets down his own skateboard as you fix the straps of your backpack. the figure of the boy dashes on the path as he stood on his board effortlessly. ‘fuck it‘ you said to yourself as you push the board like how jay teaches you, giving a few more pushes before putting both feet on the board as you tried to balance the best as you can so it goes on the straight line, eyes looking forwards rather than how your body moves as you let yourself adjust to the board that rolls beneath you.

the wind from the kinetic movement blows your hair as it flings from your face. you can be helped but to let a whoop from the air strike your skin, making you more alive and awake than ever. the figure before you now stand looking back towards you as you notice him laugh, letting you go past him as he follows you to the store.

arriving in the convenience store—putting your skateboards upright near the bicycle stands—you stroll around the shelves along with jay. going to the fridges and freezer as you pull out an ice cream and a bottle of cider before turning around to search for jay. his head pokes out from behind the shelves from his tall height as you find him with the cashier, looking at the reddish food in the warm display area.

“you want tteokbokki? my treat,” he said as he stares at you already with your cold items and him with a coloured soda in his hand. you hadn’t had street food in a while from how strict your food regimen is at home and the broth-full lunch at school. but the way the rice cakes rested inside that chill-powdered sauce, you could imagine adding cheese in there as saliva appears inside your mouth.

“buy a big one for both of us and also add cheese.” you turn to him as he lets out a wide smile.

“yes, ma’am,” he replies as he orders exactly that to the cashier attendant. both of you waited by the counter as you see the display behind the cashier for the adults, full of cigarettes and condoms. jay and you stood side by side as you both waited with the view. the awkward silence between the two of you makes you turn to face him. both of your minds seem to be telepathically linked as he turns to see you too. the white, almost blueish tint of the store illuminates his skin differently than the sun, colder. but the freckles on his cheeks stand out more. you can’t help—with the courage from your weightlessness of reality and consequences—to reach up and caress his cheek. his eyes enlarged as you turn your body to face him.

“your freckles are pretty.” you breathed out, perceiving how cold his skin is from your palm as you heat him up. seeing how at first he hesitates before leaning in fully into your warmth.

both of you sit at the table outside as you eat in silence, sharing the large plate of tteokbokki as you munch up your appetite. for all the moments you sat together, you both stayed silent, not commenting on what you did at the cashier. the warmth of the spicy rice cakes fills your stomach as the cold combats and helps with your dry oesophagus. your usual cat whisperer trait makes a couple of cats arrive and rub their head on your calves, pulling out the can from your bag as you marvel at yourself for at least giving out one for today—it didn’t feel right if you don’t.

for you, the high has died down significantly as you’re now in your usual quiet state, eating up your food as best as you can as you compare it with the tastes you’ve tried. you don’t know if buying it is the right call for eating spicy food but you were parched back then, and not sober.

“fuck, i can’t. tomorrow’s school again.” jay groans before he hisses, his lips swollen because of the spicy food. he looks up as only the broth of the tteokbokki is left on the plate. “i should bring you home…”

you shook your head and disagree with him as you left to pout. even if the high has died down, some leftovers of it are still left circulating as you mouthed, “i can go home by myself.”

“you probably still have the after-effect of being high and you’re going to be alone at fucking night, (y/n). please…” he grabs your hand that is still gripping the chopsticks, catching your attention as you stare right back at him. “let me take you home.”

indeed, he did as you stroll back home, the ice cream in your hands as jay holds the skateboard you used while his own is peeking out of his backpack. small talks were made between the two as you stroll in the night's dark sky. you wanted to tell him how you have been going home late at night, especially if you hang out with your girls-around a month ago you did just that as you all played in the arcade until midnight and more. but seeing his concern for you made your heart flutter, and by hanging out with him, you now understand how much of a stubborn person he is—dragging you in one way and another as he trained you to learn how to skate. as you walked by the neighbourhoods, you can still see people roaming around to enjoy the nightlife. not as late as when you’re in that arcade playing the hammer machine, competing to get as highest of scores as you can between the four of you.

“you’re not as cranky as i thought.”

jay turns his head towards you as you felt the ice cream melt in your mouth, nibbling on the little spoon as he raised his eyebrows.

“heeseung told me something about you and sunghoon.” you heard him scoff as you mention his friends’ names, looking forward at the expanding pavement in front of you both.

“oh he’s…” he lets out a sigh before continuing. “hoon is pursuing so many girls at once he makes me have to work double to manage, pack, and deliver the goods.” jay brushes his fallen hair to the back as you continue to step into the night together.

“he’s an interesting character to know. nice guy but he likes his dick wet a lot so… i kinda see how hee said i’m cranky.”

“yeah, notice your eyebags are a bit swollen. sunghoon’s a fucking wanker…” you exhale towards his friend as he laughs because of it.

“i expect it to happen—his room is beside mine after all. but i didn’t expect he could even fuck for more than thrice a week.”

“that is dodgy as heck. is that your spliff’s side effect?” you chuckle as he gives you a side eye before rolling his eyes, seeing it as an answer to your carefree question.

both of you walk and you enter a more secluded neighbourhood. houses covered by high and thick walls as you climb the stairs on the pavement from the sloping terrain. you gaze at jay, seeing his eyes wandering around the houses that differ greatly from the apartment complex. the steps slow down as you near a wooden gate, the white lights of the exterior illuminate the house in a colder manner rather than your neighbours with their yellow bulbs. you hummed as you titled your head, letting him know this is your stop.

“thank you for today. though i’ve been such a crap.” you lean against the wooden gate as he shakes his head.

“no, i’m proud of you, really,” he replied as you put your hand where your heart is. you turn to your phone and text one housekeeper you trust as you don’t want to ring the bell and tell your parents of your whereabouts tonight—if they’re home. the light shines on your face as you write the words in and send it, quickly glancing towards jay who hasn’t left yet. you see his mouth open as he speaks.

“i… do you wanna do this again? you could get used to the skateboard then we can hang out at some places. maybe i could introduce you to my friends, even ask your friends too to hang out with us. i mean, you seem to be pretty friendly with hee’s girl back in my fla-“

you lean in and press your lips on his cheek, stopping his continuous tangent as the number of words faded out. leaning back, the corner of jay’s lips rises as your eyes flutter. “i would like to.”

the sound of the gate opening catches you off-guard as you step back to the small door the housekeeper has unlocked. jay’s eyes still gaze at your retreating figure as you hold on to the gate.

“i’ll reach out. good night, jongseong.” your lips pouted as you step to the other side when you hear a faint “good night” from the boy outside. the housekeeper looks at you with a knowing gaze as you both retreat to the mansion, listening to the sound of wheels rolling down the asphalt road down the slope.

-

if one can take a glimpse at jay’s eyes, one could see them sparkle; resemble fireworks. jay stares at the last message bubbles that happened between him and you in class, trying to suppress his smile as best as he can to preserve his appearance, but he knows he can’t hold it together especially since his lips are trembling to not form a smile. hee’s girl is the one that notices it first, sitting down with the exhausted taehyun—his face laying at the desk—right beside her, but she said nothing so that sunghoon could realize something.

“woah, jjong. you’ve been staring at your phone for minutes now.” his best friend said, the boy himself not exactly caring about it as he continue to scroll down the chat before returning it to the Instagram profile you gave him of your own. one that is full of cats and aesthetically no face pics of you and your friends.

“who’s that, huh?” jay sensed his friend nudges his shoulder, making him roll his eyes.

“none of your freaking business.”

“of course, it is my business, jjong. you wearing heart eyes? looking at someone’s profile? scrolling back and forth between your chats? bro…” he can feel sunghoon’s presence closer to him. “tell me who this lucky person is.”

jay side-eyes his friend who is wearing a sheepish smile. he clicked his tongue as he turn his head towards his seatmate, “a girl i’ve been seeing-“

“oh fuck, i knew it,” he exclaimed as quietly as he can, not wanting the teacher to catch him cursing in class. sunghoon lightly slap his palm on jay’s forearm as said boy looks at his friend offendedly. “that’s why you’ve been out more, but without me.”

“yeah, right. you’ve been hooking up with girls left and right. how am i supposed to go out with you, dickhead?” jay stated the obvious before he recollected his mind on what sunghoon is saying. yes, his best friend is right. he has gone out more and it’s because of you.

most of the time you both hung out by han river. him lending you his skateboard as you better your skill in riding it—how he remembered pushing you on it with his hands on your waist. as you get better and better, with a fair share of injuries from falling as he and you tried a few kick tricks which results in you punching his biceps, he can now proudly say you’ve become an excellent skater. you told him you won’t do anything on the slopes and instead, you voice out that you try to cruise down the paths more, taking in the city's view, the flowing water, and the sky above together.

in the three times, other than the first one, that he skates with you, he has brought a few of his friends and met with your friends too. taehyun also likes to skate from time to time—what jay likes to say is “his skate buddy”—if he isn’t busy enough with editing videos, and jake asks to come with him to relax himself before his next matches after having a two-time winning streak. that day, your friends insert themselves into your hangout as they’ve been curious about who this guy their friend is meeting, resulting in the two groups meeting. jay still remembers how jake and lily talking to one another strengthen each other’s accents that make none of you can fully understand what they’re talking about.

other than skating, he also is with you to give out food for neighborhood cats, playing with them if you both have time. one cat stuck in his mind though, a tabby kitten that likes to ride on his skateboard as he plays with him like a baby of his own. he still couldn’t help but sneeze if he stayed too long with the felines, their fur itching his nose. but he tried his best to cover his nose and maybe stay away from them enough just to be with you. now and then, you like to associate him with a cat.

“sometimes grumpy. sometimes menacing. but cute.“

“did you just say i’m cute?” jay replied as he can see the look of realization on your face. he calls your name before he shakes your torso lightly for your answer, only replying with giggles.

yeah, he couldn’t help about his selective hearing when he heard you indirectly compliment him. you have an intimidating demeanor from your first impression, as if you’re coming from addams family but not as macabre. mysterious and obscurity oozes from you, but he is glad you let him in that fog of yours.

“so which school is your lucky girl from?” sunghoon asked, his head still too close for comfort as he infiltrates to scroll up and down your instagram profile. he will thank you for making yourself as obscure as ever on the internet. but he knows his boy won’t give up without an answer or a fight. a “cocky wanker” as what you like to name him. not going to lie, it makes him giggle every single time he overheard it.

“levant.”

“what the- jjong!” sunghoon whispered loudly into his ear. jay’s instinct instantly reacts to his seatmate, leaning away and covering his ear. his seatmate grabs and pulls him in though, head looking everywhere to check if the teacher notices anything. “this is fucking scandalous. no other student here has pursued a levant kid since beomgyu hook up with-“

“i know. this is gonna be a romeo and juliet type of beat. but, hoon…” jay’s shoulder hunches down as he looks at his best friend, not believing what he’ll say to him. “i genuinely like her…”

“bruh, even i’m not brave enough to hook up with a levant girl, man.”

“of course, you only wanna hook up with the popular ones. and please, it’s not like i haven’t seen someone on decelis not having friends with someone in levant. if you helped me deliver to that school more, you could find people in our uniforms too,” jay argues back as sunghoon stops with a stunned look on his face. his phone vibrates just in time as he sees the notification on it.

(y/n): could we meet up today after school? it’s friday after all

“(y/n), huh? seems familiar…” sunghoon whispered beside him as jay picked up the phone and open it. the blinking line in the text box is waiting for his answer. he had a few more stuff to deliver as he had told sunghoon before about his order notes—jay is the bookkeeper for all this—but he deep down knows he’ll be the one to send them as sunghoon probably has a plan to do something with someone today. that’s when a hand perched on his shoulder as he peeks to spot sunghoon in his resting face, thinking to find the right words.

“i’ll do the delivery today. it’s gonna be bad for business if you’re the only one doing so.” sunghoon lets out a small smirk as jay’s eyes squint at him. “bro. my dick will fucking break if i hook up all the time. i’m not a fucking addict.”

“sure…” jay replied whilst chuckling as he stares at the screen before he replies.

coming out of the school, he went his way to the meeting place that he picked with sunoo—the boy’s best friend has something to do after school, so she left him alone. sunoo and jay walk quietly together as they’re both heading the same way.

“it’s weird to not see you with your friend,” jay commented as sunoo nods his head, knowing the sentiment. though sunoo looks soft compared to him, he is very compassionate, especially in his acting role. jay always assume that he would rather see sunoo star in the film club productions than beomgyu all the time. but, he doesn’t want to be biased about it as both of them are his friends. yet, as of recently, beomgyu has been straying more and more now. but he hasn’t thought about it much because he is getting more concerned about how much his order has been increasing since the day of the match. heeseung said that the choi household has family problems, and that’s why beomgyu’s sister has been hanging out at their flat more.

“yeah. she has an appointment with the doctor. something about her allergies making her skin itch, so she wants to get prescribed a lotion to help combat it.” jay hums from the answer as he looks at the boy’s thick paper in his hands.

“new script?”

“revision actually. the scriptwriter made some changes on how the two mains are going to do in their resolution scene.” sunoo replied, “we’re doing a coming-of-age movie a la perks of being a wallflower.“

“nice, can’t wait to watch it,” jay replied as sunoo lets out a tight-lip smile at him, his fingers twitching behind the script he is holding. when they arrive at an intersection with a corner store, sunoo stops as he said his farewells, wanting to grab something to snack on as he’ll memorize his lines. jay couldn’t hold on to his skateboard much longer and when he sees his friend entering the store, he immediately drops it down—gently, of course—before rolling away on the sidewalk. people avoiding him and he tried his best to avoid stationary people too.

after a few blocks, he used his foot to graze the concrete sidewalk as he sees the cafe he went to with sunoo, kai, and taehyun for doing homework together. their usual cafe, cafe 95. as he steps in, he could see a few people in the seats and the barista, a schoolmate of his in the same year, behind the bar with her boss, taehyung beside her. jay didn’t find your face in the crowd and also none of his friends was in any seat.

“jay park.” someone calls him from behind the counter. he sees taehyung man the cashier where the girl is off doing someone’s order.

“hey! iced americano as usual. take away for today.” jay replied as he pulled the right amount of cash out of his wallet before he then caught a bell ringing behind him. he usually isn’t one to turn around, but he is waiting for somebody to show up. and his worry fades away as he sees the dark blue blazer of a certain school before looking up at your face. taehyung has stepped away to do his order as he sees you approaching him by the cashier. you give him a small wave as you look at the cafe, enjoying the vibe that it gives out.

jay sees you standing right beside him, how your blazers touch each other’s, as his schoolmate comes and waits for your order. jay was looking away from his phone as he waits for you when he caught the quiet voices of the barista. combining it with your silent guise, he thinks you were still ordering. jay felt a tug on his sleeve as he looks to see your hand pulling him to the counter where you take your order.

“you ordered?” his eyebrows rise as he sees you giving him a thumbs up. he didn’t even hear what you were ordering, but you were staring at his schoolmate who is doing your order.

“how did you two communicate?” jay looks between you and the barista, bewildered. he genuinely thinks you were confused about what to order—maybe wanting him to help you order because it is his usual place.

“we just… did…” you replied in a small voice, seeing you smiling at his schoolmate who is mixing your drink, staring back at you. taehyung puts his order on the counter as he waits for your order to finish, staring at the vacant poster for a part-time barista position for the afternoon and evening. you were holding onto a plastic bag full of cat food once again as he reaches out to help you carry it.

you turn towards him shaking your head, “you have your skateboard. i don’t want to burden you.”

jay retreats to his standing position as your order arrives, seeing his schoolmate giving a warm smile and a “thank you” which you replied with your own before both of you walk out to go to your usual hang-out place: the seats near the skate park. as you both walk down the street, jay sees the variety of uniforms that he knows of the high schools in around this general area of seoul. the biggest four are decelis, levant, yanggun, and kosmo with each of their signature colors. they mingle with one another as if all the so-called rivalries are just that, a rivalry. all schools are ambitious in their own way, but in his eyes, it’s more of a friendly rivalry than the ones that could cost life or death. if sunghoon is with him right now, he could show him this street full of yanggun students mingling with decelis and more to him.

while he was thinking about ways to show his best friend is wrong, he didn’t see your solemn face.

the walk felt more quiet than usual as he settles all his belongings down by the seats, putting his coffee on the table as you sit across from him, sipping the beverage you order. your lips formed a straight line as you stare at the table before looking at the person on the other side of it. jay observed it all, how you cast your eyesight downwards, your newly painted black nail already looking as if you’ve chipped it off, and how your blazer is hanging on your shoulder; one pull and it falls down your arm.

“i…” you sigh before looking up at him. “i should explain to you that if you want me for my money and prestige, then i can’t give any to you.”

what?

“what-“

“no, hush.” you shush him directly as you let out a huge exhale. “since my parents are busy with whatever they have, my sister and i have got the home by ourselves. sure, it seems like a good thing, right? well, almost every single crappy day, somi invited her friends over, cheer friends, another popular crowd, and boys she’s hooking up with. new person each and every day.” you let out a chuckle.

“me?” you pointed to yourself. “nothing, my parents give me no permission to invite someone over. none of my three friends, heck my sister’s having a freaking party at our house cause they allowed her to.” you rubbed your hands on your face. jay can’t help but remember you sitting at that bench, body hunching as your shoulders shook, muffled sniffles coming from your end. he sees you shaking your head as you let your covered mouth speak.

“all because they see us from the intercom. me coming home at night. that night when you brought me home for the first time.”

jay noticed the intercom at the wall beside the wooden gate of your house, but both of you failed to notice that the camera is on. he recalls how you kiss his cheek and the rest two times he brought you home at night, all of those three times he brought you home. none of them includes pressing any bell button on the intercom.

“you’re the only one that i know who gets my problem. no matter if i’m old money and you’re new, i trust you for this because my parents hate decelis high as they’re levant alumni so they don’t have any connection to you in any way i can think of.”

and with that, your venting session begins. it surprised him to see how such a quiet persona can let out fiery and spicy comments. how burned up you felt from what you called “being the spare”, how you’re not allowed to be involved in your family business. how because of the clear succession plan for the company that is somi and her future contribution, they don’t consider you as any necessary part of the clockwork. how they send you to brighton to then bring you back for no clear reason. how you rather stayed in the UK instead of here. no matter how little the stake your problem is against the world—the stake that is so minuscule yet can be wildly catastrophic if not handled right because of your ties with your family name and brand—he resonates with it a lot. sure, he is continuing what his dad has made, but the way they shaped him up to be like him is a lot like how your family runs things. yet, a small comment from you stuck in his mind.

“if they’re treating me like this, why would they have me in the first place?”

the anxiousness that he can sense beneath that mysterious exterior finally shows itself to him. he understands now why no one other than levant high students knew of your well-being, especially with a popular sister and a conglomerate family. jay now knows why you rather speak with voiceless words and body language. they taught you to be subdued and when you mention your uncle back brighton, jay guessed that he was taught the same thing too. how your opinion doesn’t worth it.

but it all comes back to tradition. family, school, and society.

as he sits there and listens, he sees you broke down right before him. back in your second encounter, his want to comfort comes from a place of intrigue. but now, his comfort comes from affection. how when you shed your first tears, he jumped up from his chair and put himself right beside you, hugging you from the side. jay didn’t care if his blazer got all dirty from your tears and he have to laundry it again, he does it because he cares for you.

because he likes you.

“about your first words to me…” you lean back as he looks down at your bloodshot eyes.

“i don’t want you because of your conglomerate family, your name, any of that. i have those myself. too” his words caused you to roll your eyes. ‘anything is better rather than you shedding more tears.‘

“remember what i said back in that alley with that mom cat and her kittens…” jay reaches and brush your tears with the end of his blazer as you calm your breathing. “how intrigued i am with your quiet demeanor, your priority to give cat’s food, your rose scent that sticks in my mind.”

he crouches down so that your eye line can see right in his, and both of your upper arms are held by him. “i like you because you’re you. i like it if you rather be you than what other people perceive you as. i like the banter we have and any words i like from you that are inserted into my personal dictionary.”

“you like me?” he sees you mouth to him as he lets out an exasperated sigh, seeing you giggle as you sniff back any leftovers from crying. jay bit his lips before he replied with a nod, letting you point to yourself to then towards his chest.

“me to you back,” you whisper as you let out a small snicker before turning your body to face him.

he couldn’t believe how relaxed you look after he confesses and you reciprocate it back. but knowing you, he can sense your palpitations like his own when you return to your drink. your head lifted from your drink as you felt your blazer move from its position, turning your head to see jay pulling it off and folding it to put it inside your backpack as he does it to himself leaving both of your upper body with the long-sleeved white shirt as it outermost layer.

“no attribute that easily identifies your school when we were together.” he reminds you of the rule you both set up. outside of school grounds, outside of uniform, you and i.

you wiped your tears away as you nodded your hand, picked up your backpack, and slung it behind you as you outstretch your hand. jay smirks as he tidies his stuff before putting his hand on yours, pulling you away from the seats in the afternoon sun.

both of you did almost anything you could and always do when you both were together, exchanging his skateboard for both of you to ride, travelling to the nooks and crannies of the city where the dwellers aka cats live, even meeting up with the tabby kitten that left an impression on jay. you both wander to the arcade that he saw you in with your friends, coming across a decelis high student that jay greets as another one of his schoolmates that he knows is going to be a part of the student council replacing heeseung and his cabinet friends. trying to beat one another on a punching game before you both got frustrated on the claw machine—you pull out the last coin you got before giving a kiss and plunging it in for his attempt and when he caught one, he promptly hugs you and exclaimed loudly that you have to cover his mouth. even as the night is getting dark you both continue, flinging from store to store window shopping—jay realizing how you don’t really notice how he uses the high-end brands for his style, to even trying out more street food you haven’t tried before.

as the clock goes near 11 pm most of the stores near where you are closing and he dares you to cruise down the empty street, to which you agree. only the streetlights illuminate the two of you as you tried your best to obscure from crowded places; rather than spending time with the two of you alone. jay sense his energy slowly depleting as he lies down on the one-lane road you both have stayed in, noting the cold night being absorbed into the asphalt before sending cold yet refreshing shocks to his sweaty body, feeling the fabric sticking to his skin. he heard ruffles from beside him as you kneel and then follow him laying down by the street.

“no worries. this street is always empty at night causes the only access to this road is leading is small office buildings.” he reassured you, turning his head to face you laying beside him. “i’ve raced here with taehyun, kai, beomgyu, and sunghoon for a bet on paying the entire gang for eating in a new fried chicken restaurant. sunghoon lost the bet so…”

“yeah?” you turned your head to face him before you lay on your side. the combination of the streetlight and the moon shines on you as if you are sleeping in a forest, well, a concrete-made forest of nighttime seoul. the light shines on your cheek and glistens into the eye facing upwards. even in the dark, he can see the warmth from your gaze. the bloodshot eyes are gone for now as it heals.

he sees you scoot closer before your hand reaches for him, his face, cupping it lightly and softly before you lean down, letting your lips meet his. jay regretted not bringing his lip balm cause he can feel how chapped his lips are comparing to yours. that is before he felt your tongue caressing his bottom lip even with his eyes closed. he pulls you close as he used his strength to sit both of you up, letting him cup your jaw as he tilts his head. you were the one that lean back first, sensing your nose tip against his own.

“can i smoke spliff in your apartment and stay the night? don’t want to go to a bloody party,” you whispered, eyes staying on his. a sparkle reflecting on it from the streetlights.

“of course, you can.” he erects from the floor before he picks you up bringing you to his flat. the walk was quiet in the surrounding environment but warm for the two of you. hands interlocking with each other, jay carries his skateboard in his other hand. sometimes lifting your connected hands to give the back of your palm as the wind blows the two of you, realizing how long the day has been where events happened so much that gives trial and tribulations for both of you mentally and emotionally.

opening the door with the code, he is met with the shine from the various lamps that are turned on to stay alight for the night. by the looks of the shoes, heeseung has his girlfriend here and sunghoon is at home; weird. jay is embarrassed to bring you into his man cave, but you were looking at it in awe. posters of musicians right beside his wardrobe, a perfect set-up for his area with two monitors. stickers on his desk and his bedframe and a picture of a forest illustration that has the words washington, US, on it.

“let me grab you something you could wear so you can wash up.” you nod your head as he gives you the clothes he found in his wardrobe, pointing towards the door of the bathroom. when the door of the bathroom closes, he returns to the room as he tidies up your stuff, and pulls out your blazer before putting it on a hanger.

“yo, jay!”

said the boy fucking jumps as he sees his best friend peek into his room. “for fuck's sake, hoon, what the fuck?”

“geez… just wanting to ask you who’s in the bathroom cause hee’s probably in his mama bear arc and not wanting anyone to wake his girlfriend up again.” sunghoon steps inside the room wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, readying to tackle the nightlife. jay thought his nightlight is enough to not let him notice his surrounding in a scrutinizing way. that is before he stood by the blazer hanging by the wardrobe.

“(l/n) (y/n)? wait, jjong?!” sunghoon turns towards him with a smirk on his face.

“doing it in fucking uniform, huh? my boy has grown up-“

“we didn’t do what you picturing and i’m fucking older than you. what do you mean?” jay retaliates as he sees the mischievous gaze in his friend’s eyes.

“by 8 months, by the way. so because she’s in the bathroom, i should probably see the mysterious girl you’re hiding from me in 3… 2...”

“um…” both of the boys turn to see you, towel around your shoulder as you wear jay’s clothes. the boy sees his friend’s lips lifting as he glances at you. jay can’t help to roll his eyes at how sunghoon is approaching you, curiosity in his eyes.

“(y/n), right? the name is sunghoon.” he sees sunghoon greets you with shaking hands and a wink. while you squint your eyes as he analyzes your face.

“hey, hey. no. not my girl.” jay approaches and grabs you, putting himself in front of you. sunghoon’s eyes squint as he stares at both of you, no look of recognition in his eyes on who you are now.

“wow, your girl, huh? okay.” sunghoon playfully retreats. “all of today’s orders are done but i want you to be my wingman and scavenge partner so i could get laid.”

“i know a party.” you mumbled from behind jay’s shoulder. “there’s a party right in the rich neighborhood area. if you know (l/n) somi before, there is a party at her house right now.” jay turns his head to glance at you, eyebrows lifted. “got the news from another levant student.” you tried to twist as best as you can.

“hmm, smart girl. great inspection. and sure thing i’ll do that.” sunghoon walks past the both of you as jay steps to the door.

“don’t forget a condom, jjong.”

“shut the fuck up,” jay replied as he heard the front door close, turning back towards you as he shook his head before pointing at his sleepwear in his bathroom. you give him a nod as you settle down on his chair, waiting for the boy to return.

after it, his room window opens, jay brought an ashtray out to put in between the two of you. usually, he already has the joints rolled and ready to go, but for today, he lets you try the fresh ones he has picked. you sat with your knees in front of you, staring at how he is rolling the paper with the grass inside before licking the end with saliva, seeing bulge from how many of them inside.

“one each is enough because we always shared ours,” he said as he give one to you and lit up a lighter, letting both of your blunts burn at the ashy scent lets you burn.

smoke flies in the room before being blown out outside the window as you both smoke each joint at your own pace. jay noticed your head on his shoulder as both of you share a joke. how your giggles make his heart flutter more, which makes him gaze at you with hooded eyes. chill, ambient music playing from the speaker of his computer as you picked yourself up from beside him, scooting yourself closer as you take another hit of your shortening joint. sit cross-legged in front of each other, jay watches how the weight has lifted off of you, your pupils blown out as you stare at his, knees touching as he moves closer while tapping the joint to the ashtray, letting the ash fall.

“it’s nice,” you mumbled, eyes gazing down on the messy sheet from where you both sat and lay down. jay hums before you continue.

“quiet. letting go of reality. brushing away any problems.” you talk slowly, the smoke leaving your mouth after you take another puff. “i never felt the way i felt with you before.”

jay straightens up as he sees you reach for your eyebags with your forefinger, brushing away a tear that you left out. he caught your glistening eyes before he brought you into his embrace, letting your face rest on his chest as he took another hit of the burning stick. your body trembles beneath his touch as he can only soothes you with his hand caressing down your back. all of him is warm, from the drug circulating in his body to the way your hand rests on his shoulder blades. jay kisses your head as the grass stench now makes the usual rose you wear faded away.

from where he sat, he can see the backpack you brought to school, watching the small cat plushie keychain that you told him from kiki’s delivery service as it rests against the patterned backpack. he recognizes how much you love cats and he understands why you rather use your pocket money to give to them. how you told him a story about an incident on the road that happened before you move away with your parents, a dead kitten at the side of the road because of them, and how they blatantly ignore it even if your chauffeur wanted to help at least burying the kitten.

“that’s why you care for cats.”

you nodded as you gaze at the skaters, “i see myself in that kitten. at that young age, i knew they didn’t love me as much as my older sister. how they want to hide me at somi’s birthday party when mine isn’t as lavish as hers, then when they send me away, i was too young to not push myself to ask why. as if i was being sent on a pilgrimage on their behalf.”

“i strive to care for stray cats because i could care for them, unlike how my parents are ignorant to me… well…” you lean forwards towards him.

“i’m like that stray cat. you are too, my friends and yours could be counted also. we’re dirty because of the environment we are in and we try our best to survive, jongseong.” jay looks at your flattened face as his brain runs with your metaphor, and how right it can be. “now you know why stray cats like to huddle with each other, right? cause they need a pack to help them survive.”

jay was looking at you in a daze when he didn’t realize you lift your head to face him. your fingers reach for his sharp face as his eyes move to meet you. your other hand putting the joint in the ashtray as he felt his own remove from between his fingers. even with your hooded eyes and dried streaks of tears, you still look as beautiful as ever.

he embraces your cheeks with both of his hands, meeting his lips with yours. the moisture coming from your kiss is getting more prominent as both of you made a mess, letting your tongue battle with each other as you both help each other with your appetite. it is past midnight, and he doesn’t want to bother heeseung in the room even if he’s two doors down, especially with his recovering insomniac girlfriend making him more sensitive to not waking her up.

his hands travel down your back, both heads tilted opposite ways to capture each other deeper, as he pushes you onto his lap before he lies on his back—you on top of him. your fingers are gripping his white t-shirt as he can sense your skin from your own rising on your back. you sighed as his palm met your skin, letting your head lift as he catches a string of saliva between the two of you.

“i never felt the way i felt with you, too,” jay replied with your own words as your high self let out snickers before embracing him back, enjoying how his hand trails up your side as you brought yours to his nape, letting you know how much he is down for you as the flame that burns your joints died down in that ashtray, only leaving the gray matter as your hand reaches for his shirt, lifting it up.

-

you brush your hair away from the mess it gets from being tangled. the morning breeze brushes your legs from yesterday’s uniform skirt you are still wearing. the sun is hiding behind the white clouds as you stepped out into the city early enough to only see people working out—jogging and cycling—on the streets. the blazer that hangs on your torso is thick enough to embrace you in the cloudy weather. you don’t know what you expect when you return home, a messy one or one that is as clean as new?

when you brought yourself out of jay’s embrace and duvet, you find yourself in his shorts and your bra—turning around to find him also shirtless. none of the roommates has woken up as you trek to their shared bathroom, smelling the smell associated with boys from the body sprays and deodorants they have strewn around. your eyes glance at the dark marks on your collarbones and on the skin exposed above your bra, making out until you both got too tired and let sleep consumes you. you recall how you move the ashtray to his bedside table as you bring yourself off of his lap, feeling his skin on yours. you quickly brush your face with cold water, waking yourself up as best as you sense the dryness of your oesophagus.

stepping back into his room, he is still fast asleep facing the open window of the apartment, the chirping birds’ voice coming inside as the computer that played music is in rest mode. you quickly change yourself back into your uniform-even with the blazer that you found hanging by the wardrobe as you heard vibration on a desk. walking up to it, text notifications showed up on what appeared to be jay’s phone.

hoon missed call (5)

hoon: we got an nooise complanann so the partys fauskcing cnaecl.

hoon: shit fuckk ur not answeringn.

hoon: iim crashiinng at sunooo

mom: hey honey, just wanted to remind you that we’ll arrive in korea today. see you in 12 hours. love you, jongseong.

you stepped away from the phone as you catch a groan coming from the boy, stretching out his hands from under his duvet. you reached his side of the bed, giving a peck at his exposed cheek.

“i’ll reach out to you soon,” you whispered in his ear before you grab your stuff and return to your home of a mansion.

even with the text sunghoon wrote—which you can deduct by reading carefully—you expected little that your house tidied up. that is when you’re met with the house as clean as ever. the housekeeper brushing away the wall with soap water as if the leftover of the party is still staining there. when they see you, you notice how spooked they are as you approach, entering the gate when you find out the car park has one more vehicle in place than when you left it.

you gulped as you see the housekeepers around you looking at you, the security guards, and gardeners, all of them pausing in various amounts of time to stare at you, the same look of spooked with a hint of tiredness in their eyes. sighs coming out from you—trying to think as clearly as possible—before you brace yourself and step towards the front door. you knew even if you stepped inside; you’ll be meeting them, especially since your dad needs his caffeine intake as early as this hour. stepping out of the shoes, you held onto your backpack straps as you let your slippery socks let you slide into the room, already feeling the harsh reality coming back when you not only found dad drinking his cup of coffee but also your mom and your sister beside her.

all of their eyes are on you as both of your parents view you with disappointment and disgrace, while somi has an expression of guilt hidden beneath her tired eyes. you hold yourself up with sparks forming in your gaze, teeth-gritting each other as you can guess the conversation you’ll be having based on the historical actions you’ve done to this family and what this family have done to you.

“(y/n). come sit here.” your mom said as you took a step, one by one, to reach the chair she pointed; sitting opposite the two women while dad is at the head of the table. somi’s eyes drift at your figure, her blonde hair looks as dishevelled as ever, but no trace of the party she did last night evidently on her. like the true good kid she is.

“four times. four times and maybe more that we didn’t catch, (y/n).” your mom starts as you gaze down at the dining table. the ice-cold—even your sister also shows one—gazes are stinging you more than the flame inside you, biting in small yet sharp nips as you let them continue. you’ve always stayed silent to them and they feared you for that, but with how your mom continues to scold you, you realize that they’re turning your quiet demeanour into an acceptance—how your silence changes its status to no permission to judge—letting her continue to tell you anything wrong with you, how disrespectful you’ve gotten, and much, much more.

but it brought the anxiety that sits within you up as a shield. your vision and mind haze in an uncertain fog as you try your best to block it; freezing yourself up. everything is running through your mind so fast that you don’t have enough time to analyze anything, but you know that your anxiousness to speak out is why she continues, even with your dad giving in to spoke little comments or adding to your mom’s argument. your eyes gaze on your sister’s as you see her eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flaring as you only see her concern right now. where has she been, huh? you wanted to exclaim.

the way your parents are continuing to berate you makes you stare at your sister and see her with her friends doing the same way with your schoolmate and juniors. your heart beats rapidly when you found out that you’re a pawn in their game.

“you wanted to know why. right? you’re going to be somi’s right-hand woman as chief operating officer. you’ll have a board seat along with her and us as you then going to take care of the new start-ups we required.” start-ups that even you identify aren’t profitable with the little economic lesson you got in the classroom and on the internet. even with the way they mention them, somi looks at them with her unreadable expression to others but you learned, even with that small glimpse, she’s jealous you still got to do something even on a known sinking armada of companies. you don’t know what your parents have gotten you into as all the power-hungry sides come out from behind the masks. now you can recognize the ice-cold gaze somi has before returning to concern: they were teaching her you’re her competition, not her sister.

they’re manipulating her as much as they manipulate you. as much as your grandpa manipulates your uncle. survival of the fittest.

but you don’t want to be subdued like your uncle is. even if he is not involved, he is still smart enough to tell you the horrible telltales from it. you had no choice but to voice out because you’re getting dizzy for not letting the fire out.

“ENOUGH!”

your parents and sister all looked at you aghast. the housekeepers inside the room are also shocked as they look your way. your chair is pushed back from how quick and powerful your stance is, standing up with your hands on the table.

“you are vile. all of you are vile, power-hungry, monsters. i see now that you’re making me your pawn and puppet, just how somi is being taught now.” somi looks at you, eyes widen as she heard you speak now after only replying in short answers all the time. her hands are now rubbing against each other as you held on.

“if you think that i’m the naughty one within this bunch, haven’t you thought about your favourite kid, huh? her constant partying, inviting “friends” over which she hooks up. even last night, she had this fucking party you don’t know that even the police got involved." you let out a villainous smile. you now learned you are that in their eyes. “but you didn’t care. you didn’t care shit about the troubles your successor has done, cause you rather heckle me.”

“(l/n) (y/n)!” your dad spokes scarily, trying to deter you, which he now knows is failing as you stare at him as menacingly as possible. like a tiger chasing after its prey while also fighting another species that is trying to get to it first.

“you don’t fucking care about me. you’re trying to set somi against me and ruin this fucking family, just like how grandpa is ruining it for you and your brother. but now i see it, dad. i realize how you treat me like a spare.” you let out words you’ve been internalizing for a while, your throat slowly getting hoarse as you realized you haven’t eaten or drunk anything since you left jay’s apartment.

“okay, that’s it.” your mom now stand up as somi is looking at the giants in front of her, fury rushes between each of her family when she looks at you and sees how your body is shuddering, eyes looking straight at your mom, and how dry your lips are.

“you have two choices, (y/n).” your mom stares at your dad as if they have been planning for this for a long time. a smirk between the two of them that disgust you so much before she looks back at you. “one. you’ll stay here. we shaped you into an amazing entrepreneur who will follow in your dad’s and grandpa’s footsteps as president along with your sister as ceo. you still live in this house, gaining every inch of luxury and privilege you can get.”

“or two. you’ll leave and start from zero. we will pay the tuition for you until this semester and then the only asset you get from us is from your trust fund, which is enough for you to live by, but we could remove you anytime. find where you live by yourself and no luxuries from this household, including bringing a housekeeper. no joining company parties. no connection to the family whatsoever under business pretences.” your mom speaks as confidently as possible, believing you stay with them because of how quiet equals “carelessness” from every consequence around you. a smile is forming internally as you know the best option you picked. you let out a calming sigh to yourself.

“i’ll leave.” your mom’s smile fades as she returns to look at your dad. “you never even cared for me, anyway. but if you think that you’re going to rid me of the trust fund, just so you know i still have people at my side.” your eyes landed on your sister who has been quiet the whole time. “even your successor.”

you give a tiny nod before getting rid of yourself from the table as you return to your room. pulling out the suitcases and bags you get, you open your wardrobe one by one, not minding to let your room door close before you see one of the housekeepers enters and goes to the stuff you’ve put on top of your mattress, looking at the door to find a few more standing by your door.

“let us help, miss.” you give her a nod as a few others step in and help you clean up, only pulling the things that you needed clothes, undergarments, toiletries, your stationeries, and a few of your memorable items such as your favourite toys—especially the kitten cuddly toy you got with your friends from the claw machine. your room is being ransacked and packed into bags as you finish a phone call when you turn to see somi leaning against your doorframe. you give the housekeepers a nod as you let them do their job while bringing yourself to face your sister. you recognize how grimy your body is, but you couldn’t care less because you rather leave as soon as possible.

your gaze at your sister makes her openly cower before she said, “i’m sorry. i’m sorry for making you feel this way. i’m sorry for being mom and dad’s favourite child. i’m sorry for not defending you, i’m-“

“hey.” you stopped her as your hand embraces one of hers. her blonde hair looks puffy as if she had it tied from last night’s party. “i forgive you. but i will not forgive our parents for what they’ve done to me any time soon. how labile they are for their choices about me and everything surrounding us. how they don’t feel any wrong about pitting their daughters against each other. but i know…” your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her.

“i know that you’re feeling as anxious as i especially when facing them. and it’s normal. i guess this could be a wake-up call for them as much as it is a wake-up call for you.” you pat her hands as you give a small smile.

“you know what? fuck them, right? we don’t want to be born like so let us just start all o-“

“you’re being impulsive, somi.” you stopped your sister as your eyes gaze at her, shaking your head. “i rather you stay. they love you enough and you’ve been shaped to be one of the most powerful women in the media in the future. don’t waste all of that for me.” somi’s eyes have water in them as you tried your best to hold it in because as much as you want to break down in front of her, you still don’t trust her.

“you’re going to be my woman from the inside, okay? take care of our parents for me.” you rub your sister’s upper arm before she brings you into a hug, a crushing hug that brought you back to when both of you were kids. both of you were too innocent for the machiavellian family and world you were born in. somi’s sobs muffled by your shoulder as you can’t help but let out a tear before you wipe it away. leaning back, you see your sister let out a small smile.

“i’m gonna miss you.”

“i’m still in the same school as you, aren't i? we can meet at school,” you replied, making her let out a chuckle.

she nods her head as you turn to see a housekeeper telling you they’re done with their work. you tell them to bring it to the carpark and give them a small “thank you.” you bring the bags filled with your important assets—notebook, laptop, chargers, et cetera—to the car that is set up for you; knowing that your parents will still lend you one even if they disown you. putting in the back seat as you want to sit at the front, you turn to face the front door to see somi by the steps and your parents at the door, obscure by darkness.

“farewell.” you mouthed to yourself as you sit in the front seat of the car your family owns one last time.

the ride was quiet but exciting for you. a new beginning, even if it was unconventional. the gps is showing where your destination is as the chauffeur continues. the weekend is getting more hustle and bustle as people went out to their own thing and how you’re going to be those people intrigues you. when you arrived by the high-rises of the apartment complex, you give out a text as your car stops. you help the chauffeur pull out your bags from the back seat and boot before you give him a tip. “for a drink, for cig, i don’t know it depends on you.”

“thank you, miss.” the chauffeur steps into the car as the vehicle leaves you by the lobby of the building. you look down at your phone as you tried to text again when you heard his voice.

“no fucking way.” you see jay emerging from the door in his outfit from last night as you give him a tight-lip smile. his eyes wander the bags around you as he asked, “what happened?”

“long story short, i left my house and have no one to stay with so i phone the only person i trust with this.” you stepped towards him, hands behind you as you sway like a schoolgirl. “can i stay with you for a bit? i can move out if i find a unit for myse-“

“you can stay.” he moves closer with a smirk on his face, “if you’ll be with me?”

“i- i, okay. sure.” you let out a giggle. “weirdest way to have a boyfriend but i guess here we are.”

“yeah.” he chuckles and pulls his own phone out. “i gotta call hee first. they could help bring these up.” he widens his arms as you step to hug him in your arms while he wraps you tight, letting him call the others with you in his embrace. the boys and heeseung’s girlfriend all step down as they brought your stuff up when you find the apartment in a chaotic state.

“sorry (y/n), jay’s parents are gonna come over for dinner tonight and we’ve been trying our best to get rid of the plants.” heeseung said.

“i know. i saw the notification before leaving.” that’s when an idea came to your mind.

all five of you help clean the place up along with settling your stuff in jay’s room. the boys tried their best to get rid of the smoke and grass scents as jay makes the meal for the rest of them and his parents. you also did a detour with heeseung’s girlfriend to help camouflage the weed plants—all of them are now on the balcony. as heeseung’s girlfriend left to go home, you are the only that left to help with the little details as the boys are preparing themselves. when you help place dinner—just like how you remember the housekeeper places them—the boys all flock wearing the most academic and semi-formal outfits they have. that’s when all of you heard the bell as jay strays away and goes to greet his parents at the door. you stare at sunghoon and heeseung beside you as you remembered what they mentioned of them.

“they’re protective over jay but they do care for him. sometimes a bit too much like joining in his unnecessary business and all of that shit.”

jay emerges from the front door and you see his parents coming in wearing pretty casual clothes since jay said they check into their hotel after arriving. heeseung and sunghoon greets jay’s parents before they stopped to look at you as jay steps behind to bring you over.

“mom, dad. this is (y/n). my girlfriend.” his parents’ eyes widen as his mom lets out a sheepish smile, similar to his smile.

“nice to meet you, (y/n). he hasn’t told us about you.” his mom greets you positively as you tried your best to reply.

“likewise, mrs. park. we became official nearly a week ago. i didn’t expect to meet his parents so early too.” you tried to laugh it off while weaving the truth. of course, you don’t want them to learn that jay brought you to meet his parents the same day both of you are official.

“of course. i didn’t expect jay to have a high school sweetheart like his parents have until now.” mr. park chimes in as you glimpse the boys snickering while nudging jay’s side. you let both of them stand in and look around the room—you’ve hidden your stuff in boxes and his spare cabinet so that they don’t know you are living there.

their eyes scanned the used-to-be empty space in the living room where heeseung has set up a table for the dinner and then to the balcony beside it.

“is that rose that i see?” mrs. park steps towards. your eyes gaze at the boys as her son picks up the conversation.

“yes. heeseung’s girlfriend likes plants, so we let her take care of plants here too. (y/n) added the roses and chrysanthemums so it doesn’t look dull. so now, we have something to do at home. we wanted pets but we don’t know if we’re free enough to take care of one.” jay spoke the story all of you created to lie to his parents as your eyes land on him. you give him a wink, to which he replied with the same thing as he brought the parents to the table where the dinner is served.

-

jay rode his skateboard down the sidewalk and along the bicycle path of the streets of seoul, pushing his foot against the road so that it moves faster and faster. he almost forgot that his friends wants to meet up at cafe 95 to get an early dinner together before he read the now 11-person group chats. the afternoon sun shines on him as the wind is blowing on the ends of his blazer and his untucked white shirt. he has gone to several places to deliver the goods after school, seeing his fingers stain from the marker. his empty stomach is raging at him to fill up as he navigates through the sea of people.

the cafe’s exterior lights show in his vision as he approached it closer and closer. when he is close, jay slows down with his foot before kicking his skateboard to put it upright, seeing another skateboard similar to his already leaning against the bicycle racks at the front. the one he recognizes is the same model as his own but has a large rose pattern at the bottom between the wheels.

jay pushes the door as the bell rings when he looked at the gang’s usual corner to see some of them already at the table. even sunghoon who is also delivering already arrived before him. he pokes his cheek before stepping towards the counter whilst pulling out his wallet from his uniform pants.

“the usual iced americano?” he lifts his head to see you behind the cashier, wearing your barista outfit as his schoolmate is on the espresso machine, letting him smell the delicious aroma of caffeine.

when you mentioned to him how you wanted to at least try working for your own money, he remembers an open spot for a barista in cafe 95 and mentioned it to you. safe to say you got the job after jimin, the other co-founder of cafe 95 along with taehyung, tests you on their different coffees, and each ingredient needed—something he listens to as you sat on your shared bed, memorizing it like a school test. you have mixed all the cluttered items in his room with your own as it doesn’t look like a man cave anymore. decelis relics being mixed with levants, textbooks that are similar but made by different publishers, and the cat plushie sits by your bedside table. though with not much of a difference on color scheme, you have integrated yourself into his room and his life; making his dull one much more thrilling.

“yes. by the way, how’s the order?” jay whispered to you.

you lean in as best as you can so he could hear. “jooyeon, mako, and ryujin. all done. all deliver. how are you going to pay for the coffee, good sir?” you lean back after answering what he questioned.

ever since you stayed with the boys, rumors are going around about how you’re dating a decelis student known as “jay the stoner” in your school. that’s when you decide to take another avenue and be a part of the operation with him and sunghoon, a delivery staff specifically for levant high students or the ones surrounding it.

“cash. is all of the gang here?” jay mentions before putting it toward you.

“all except for taehyun and beomgyu, it seems,” you replied as you look the side to see all of your friends with him gathering at the corner.

jay gets his change and lets you make his order as he comes face-to-face with his friends. kai scoots towards sunghoon so that jay can sit beside him, facing sunoo who has his head on his best friend’s shoulder.

“you’ve seen beomgyu and taehyun?” he asked the two best friends who should know because of their relationship with the film club.

both of them shaking their heads as jay returns his gaze to his other friends who were talking about sunghoon, wondering what his two friends are up to. yet, no other of his friends are concerned.

his trance left as he felt you entering beside him, putting his order on the table. at least for now, jay can still enjoy his friends and new girlfriend all together, excited for what is coming. especially with the movie that sunoo has told about which his film club friends are taking a part to produce.

taglist: @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @reallysmolrenjun @kimipxl @haerinism

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

[immortaladrien]

A charismatic knight attempting to get a cold person to spar with them?

haha this is super fluffy and cute! unless… (featuring adrien, wanting to add angsty plot twists to everything)

tws: swords, peer pressure, stabbing, fluff, angst, tragic endings & corruption (the fluff ends at the ☕️!)

“One round!”

The witch peeled their gaze from the inside of a spellbook, grimacing. Knight-boy had dropped a jousting sword by their foot, beaming expectantly.

Damn that dazzling smile.

The witch cleared their throat and looked back down. “I am in the middle of studying.”

“You’re always in the middle of studying!” The grin reached their eyes now, clearly not deterred in the slightest.

“Perhaps that’s a sign to leave me be.”

“Or ‘perhaps’ you’re being stubborn.”

Their counterpart scoffed a little, turning a page. “One of us certainly is.”

With a dramatic groan, the knight crossed their arms. “You’re no fun! Don’t you want to do anything other than read?”

Have you ever even read a book? “Go away.”

“I need someone to practice with!”

“You have other friends. Ask one of them.”

That did… something. An awkward silence immediately washed over the two and the knight fell quiet, fidgeting awkwardly with the plates of their armor.

“You… do have other friends, don’t you?”

“You’re the best opponent out of everyone I’ve fought.”

How bizarrely avoidant. “I hardly know how to wield a sword. You’re lying through your teeth.”

“Maybe so, but you’re cunning! And unpredictable! Hell, last time I saw you fight, you hit a guy with a spell and he went crying for his mother…” They trailed off, as if revisiting a fond memory.

“You were… there? You watched my duel?”

The knight nodded enthusiastically, beaming yet again. “They don’t train us how to deal with magic users in the field, so I go to your matches. I’ve been taking notes! And you’re the only one that I know that actually uses magic, so…”

A slight heat creeped on to the witches’ face, stumbled for words. “That’s– you’re– just study books, or something.”

“I know that’s what you do,” their counterpart pouted, leaning on a sword. “But I’m so much better learning through experience. I didn’t exactly read a book on the best place to stab someone. I just.. tried a couple times until I figured out what made them fall the fastest.”

It was hard not to smile at that. “So I should spar you because… You’ll learn my tricks and stab me?”

“W…What! No!” The knight squawked, eyes wide. “No, you should spar me because it will be fun! And you can… practice spells on me, or something?”

“I’m teasing.”

“Oh.” Their cheeks flushed a light pink.

The witch signed fondly. Damn them being this cute, too. “You’re not going to leave me alone until we spar, are you?”

Sensing where this was going, the knight lit up. “Correct.”

“And you’ll let me go back to studying afterwards?”

“Right again!”

“I guess that leaves me with one option,” The witch stood from their seat with a halfhearted stretch. “Do not actually stab me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Their friend took their wrist and tugged them towards the training fields, grinning wildly.

- ☕️ -

The witch peered over the battlefield with a disgusted grimace. They’d never seen this much carnage in one battle; frankly, they never processed that it would go this far.

Lives must be lost in the name of revolution. Blood must be spilled.

It was simply the amount of blood…

They sighed, kicking their final fallen foes body to the side. God, do I need a drink. With a yawn, they made their way further into the kingdom.

Knights didn’t really train in the way of magic users, a old friend once told them. The training must not have changed much over the years, because these warriors had been pathetic; the King had said they’d be the best and brightest, and in total the battle had been about 20 minutes.

(As they walked, they noticed the streets to the castle were clear of civilians. Unsurprising, but nonetheless very welcome.)

Of course, the King had always been an incompetent buffoon. The witch had experienced his stupidity first hand after being thrown in the dungeons the day of their graduation. ‘Magic is far too dangerous,’ he’d said. ‘You’ll corrupt all of our holy warriors.’

They all were slain now, so what good had it done him?

Reaching the castle gates came with relative ease. The Witch knocked, for the sake of politeness.

(They hadn’t really expected the doors to open, but they still internally scoffed at how rude the royal was even now.)

The path to the throne room wasn’t long once they blew open the doors with a simple spell of wind. Sure, their approach would be obvious, but where did the old man have to hide?

“O mighty king,” They sung from the final turn. “Judgement day has finally arrived.”

They rounded the bend and in front of them laid the massive corridor with a throne in the back. Sitting on the throne was the old man, as cold and cocky as ever. The witch peered up to him with a grin.

“Any final words, your highness?”

“You said you would kill my entire army before you finally came for my head.”

The witch laughed airily, a spine-chilling sound. “Perhaps you need to look outside, my king. Your men lay in shambles, they died merciful deaths… Yours will not be nearly as kind.”

The king grunted acknowledgment, but a small devilish grin emerged on his lips. “That was not my entire army.”

“Then you forgot to send them all. It is your flaw, not mine.” They prepared a spell, holding an orb of necrotic magic in their hands with ease. “I will kill all those that face me, and everyone who dared has already fallen.”

“There’s one more who dares. It was simply a fight I wanted to overlook.”

The witch scoffed, taking aim regardless. “Who?”

The king motioned behind them.

Wary of a trick, they spun on their heels slowly. Their breath instantly caught in their throat.

Their darling knight, head hung low, stood inches from them.

Years of age weighed on their face, and their stance was far worse for wear than anything the witch had remembered. Eyebags. Ragged breathing. A shell of their former glory at best, but the person they’d once loved all the same.

“What has he done to you?” The witch whispered, voice tender and low.

The hero wrenched their eyes shut, drawing their sword. “One round.”

[itslottiehere]

you’re no good alone (h.s) — part 3

hello beautiful people 🤍 it’s here. you’re no good alone part three is finally yours. i still can’t believe someone other than me — and occasionally, one of my friends — is reading what i’ve wrote. i cannot thank you enough. i hope you enjoyed this little journey, i really do. i do have to say that when i wrote part one, i thought it was going to end there; but i’m happy to have written three parts. so, again, thank you so much for all your support. i’ve never thought i’d get more than 5 notes on my stories, and i would’ve died happy. but more than 300? not even in my wildest dreams. you’re unbelievable. thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. 

so, it’s all yours. enjoy 🤍 and please let me know what you think about this, or if you have any other suggestions for other stories!

tw: angst, little swearing, mention of alcohol

word count: 3.1k

part 1 | part 2 | masterlist | let me know what u think here

—

was he so high that he imagined this? he took only a couple of pills, not too many. he couldn’t be that out of his mind from just that. so, that meant that he didn’t dream about her voice coming through the speaker.

she realised she called him H, so she forced herself not to call him that again. they weren’t in that place anymore.

“Harry? are you there?”

yeah, definitely not a dream.

what was he going to say now? what was he supposed to say to the woman he loved? 

loved? what? he loves her. present tense. 

on the other side of the line, she was sat up, her back against the headboard, knees close to her chest, a hand playing with her lip. she took so many of his mannerisms, one being this one. 

“angel, you’re going to break your lip if you keep pulling on it like that.”

“H, you know how i get when i study. i’m anxious, drink embarrassing amounts of coffee and play with my lip till it bleeds. that last one is your fault, actually.”

“what? how’s that my fault!”

“you do it all the time and i picked it up!”

“not my fault you’re so obsessed with my lips, lovie. if you didn’t keep staring, you wouldn’t have picked it up.”

“oh, fuck off. i have to study.”

“nope, not before i get my kiss.”

“you’re such a child.”

she had to kiss him exactly 14 times before he let her study. fourteen. 

the silence on the other side of the line gave her time to reminisce about the past, and she stopped playing with her bottom lip before actually hurting herself. 

but that silence wasn’t comfortable, it was full of unanswered questions, the first one being, why the hell did he call her up?

this is what his mind was shouting at him right now. why did you call her if you didn’t even know what the fuck to tell her? you moron. now she is going to be anxious, you know how she gets. why are you doing this to her? why? 

he managed to make his two remaining brain cells work and finally opened his mouth.

“uhm, hi- yeah, i’m- i’m here.”

and now what? what was she supposed to say to him? was she supposed to tell him she knew he was drunk? 

“listen, i’m drunk right now and i don’t want to keep you up, i know it’s late.”

okay, now she didn’t have to worry about that.

“and i don’t want to have the conversation i wanted to have while i’m like this, so i just wanted to ask you if we could see each other one of these days, and just talk. i’m back in london now.”

she very well knew that. it was impossible when social media basically followed his every move. she knew he was back in london, and she was terrified about possibly running into him, especially with the way she looked. she looked tired, and any amount of concealer couldn’t hide her under eyes, or the greyish colour her face had taken. it looked like they sucked the life out of her.

now, it was her turn to talk, she remembered.

“uhm..”

oh god, she was going to turn him down, wasn’t she? she had every reason. he couldn’t even muster up the courage to call her up when he was sober. no, of course he had to be drunk to finally grow a pair. (she always said the saying actually had to be “to grow a pair of ovaries”). he would chuckle at the memory, if he wasn’t waiting for the last part of her answer like his life depended on it.

as if that was far from the truth.

“you don’t have to say yes. i know this came all out of the blue and you weren’t expecting this so if-“

she interrupted him, because even if all her brain was shouting was a huge “no”, her heart was saying the exact opposite. and, as always, she listened to the latter.

“no harry, it’s okay. i think we could do that.”

he never felt more sober in his life. she said yes. she agreed to see him. him, harry. 

as said, he hated hearing his full name from her mouth, but that would do now. he would take any words she would say to him, good or bad. 

“that’s- that’s great. would you like to go to the little coffee shop, at the corner of your street? say, sunday?”

they both knew that he didn’t pick that place and that day randomly. they always went there on sundays, whenever he was home. at first, no matter what he had to do, sundays were for them and just them. they would walk down the street, hand in hand, get into the little shop and get breakfast. he’d always get pancakes, eggs and black coffee; she’d order whatever pastry was the specialty of the week and a cappuccino. 

“this doesn’t taste as good as the ones i drank in italy” she’d always say, but she still ordered it every time because she missed those times she studied abroad. 

but then, he was busy with tour, and the album, and the meetings and they didn’t even have that little tradition anymore. this was one of the many things that piled up and made her choose to break up. 

“uhm, yeah, that sounds okay. say around 10?”

“that’s perfect. see you sunday.”

——

sunday couldn’t come soon enough for harry. he was giddy — anxious, yes — but mostly giddy. he couldn’t wait to see her face.

and then there was her, who was already dreading sunday. if she wasn’t sleeping that much before, imagine now that she was going to see him in a matter of hours. 

she almost bailed on him, thought about texting him some lame apology around a thousand times, but she knew he deserved a bit more than that. if she didn’t want to see him anymore after today, she’d tell him to his face.

so, she put on a nice sweater, a pair of jeans, her converse, tried to cover up her exhaustion as well as she could with makeup, and she was out the door. 

the walk to the little place took her 8 minutes max, and when she arrived at the corner, she saw him sitting at their usual table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, and a nice cappuccino and what she thinks is the pastry of the week. 

she took a deep breath and went in. now or never.

he was practically shaking in his chair, knee bouncing and eyes frantically looking around for her. was she going to come? he’d understand if she didn’t. he knows this was going to be hard for her, for the both of them. two months without seeing each other seemed like a lifetime to him. would she feel the same way?

the door of the little coffee shop opened, and the tiny bell rang when it closed again. there she was.

it was like someone punched him in the chest, he couldn’t breathe properly. she was so incredibly beautiful, maybe not in the most obvious way, it’s just something about her that made everyone who looked at her feel safe. she looked amazing. but he didn’t miss the look in her eyes, or better, the lack there of. there was no light, the spark he saw in them when she looked at the carnival lights on their first date. they were dull, and he immediately understood that he was the cause of it. that made him feel sick.

she spotted him and gave him a small smile, that didn’t reach her eyes. he looked good, as if there was a time he didn’t. even when he was sick and feverish, he was still the most beautiful human being walking on planet earth. 

he had a little stubble now, he couldn’t grow a full beard, and she knew he hated it sometimes. 

“i’m a grown up man! i should be able to grow a full beard!”

“H, you know not everyone can, right? and that’s perfectly fine. you look good in any way. maybe not the big moustache though.”

“well, mitch can! why can’t - hey! what’s wrong with my moustache?”

she approached the table, and he stood up to greet her. were they supposed to hug? shake hands? they settled on standing in front of each other, rather awkwardly, just saying hi, and sitting down at their table.

they both couldn’t believe how am hard it was making conversation now, it never used to be. not even when they first met. 

“uhm, so, how’ve you been?”

he wanted to smack himself. how have you been, really? for someone whose job depends on having a way with words, this was really bad. he could clearly see her dark under eyes, meaning she hadn’t been sleeping a lot. he wished he could say they were all because of the late nights study sessions, but he knew that was far from the truth. 

“i’ve been.. okay, i guess. just studying.”

and crying about you. about us. missing who i was before, wondering when i lost myself. 

“i knew you had your last exam on wednesday, latin lit, right?”

“yeah, yeah i did. can’t believe you remember.”

how could he ever forget? how could he forget anything about her?

“well, i guess i talked your ear off with that even months ago, huh?” she added, chuckling a little bit. he did too.

she took a sip of her cappuccino, and then returned the question:

“and how are you?”

how was he? right now, he was on cloud nine: he couldn’t believe she was actually here in front of him. but at the same time, it didn’t feel like before. it just wasn’t the same as it was. 

“i’m okay, been writing a lot lately.”

that was the truth, he was writing a lot, just incredibly sad songs that couldn’t be put on the album. whether because they are way too intimate, or because they make people want to throw themselves off a bridge.

yeah, “okay” may not be the best way to describe how he was feeling.

“oh, well, that’s good.” she answered.

and then they were both quiet. nothing about this silence was comfortable, and they couldn’t understand when it became so weird between them.

was this a mistake? she thought. why did she come here? what was she hoping for? why does it feel like it’s hard to breathe? why does it feel like they are strangers? why does she feel like her heart is breaking all over again? she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“i-i’m sorry harry, i, i can’t do this.” she whispered, feeling like there was no oxygen around her. she started getting up, gathering her things and leaving a few pounds on the table.

“what? no, please, just sit and we can-“

“no, harry, i can’t do this. it’s just too much. i’m sorry.”

she ran towards the door, leaving as fast as she could, getting away from him.

and again, he was frozen in his spot. he was letting her go, again. was he really gonna let this happen? 

fuck, no. not this time.

he ran out of the coffee shop, turned on the street and found her figure basically running towards her apartment. he ran after her, and when he finally reached her, he put his hand on her forearm.

“please, stop. you can curse me out, hit me, do whatever you want, but i can’t let you get away. not again.”

she turned around to look at him, and he saw her eyes filled with tears. this was going to kill him. 

“i don’t know what to tell you, harry, i-“

“please, please for the love of god, stop calling me that.” he told her, wincing at his full name from her mouth.

oh right, she forgot he hated that.

“you don’t have to call me any pet names of course or anything, you can call me every name in the book, but stop calling me by my full name.”

“alright. still, this doesn’t change the fact that i don’t know what to tell you.”

“then why don’t i talk?” he said, and without letting her reply, he resumed. 

“i know it sounds cliché, but i have to say this to you: i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry, you have no idea. there’s not one day — hell, there’s not one second — i haven’t regretted not coming after you that night.” he looked straight into her eyes, and she couldn’t maintain eye contact, his gaze too piercing. so, she shifted her gaze to the ground. he noticed. but kept going.

“i was an idiot, and god knows i still am, but i’m not stupid enough to let you go again. not now, not ever.” he put his hands on her cheeks and turned her face up, because he needed to look at her for everything he wants to say. she closed her eyes, she still couldn’t look at him.

“i have been miserable these last two months. and i don’t want to sound like an asshole, but i know you’ve felt the same way, i can see it all over your face. i hate that. i hate that i made you feel even a hundredth of what i felt like.” she opened her eyes and looked at him, tears threatening to spill. his breath hitched: even if her eyes are still the most beautiful sight, right now they weren’t the same ones that used to look at him so full of sentiment.

“i hate seeing how dull your eyes are, i hate how i killed the spark you used to have in them. i hate it. i hate that i had to be far away from you, and i hate that i found the courage to talk to you only when i was drunk.” his eyes welled up with tears, but he tried to keep them at bay.

“i hate that i love you and i wasn’t able to show it properly.”

she was at a loss of words. there it was, everything she wanted to hear for the last two months.

“i- uh. thank you, for saying all this. but please, do not put all the blame on yourself. our relationship ended because of the both of us. so, it’s my turn now.” 

“no, you don’t have to, real-“

“no, i have to. i apologise for not being supportive enough, at times. i knew you wanted me there at some concerts and i didn’t come because i had to uni and stuff. i’m not apologising for putting my future first, but i’m sorry for not supporting you enough, especially when i knew that these moments were special and important for you. i was selfish, and i’ll always be sorry for that. it wasn’t right.” she took a deep breath.

“i’m sorry i didn’t reach out, because i should’ve known that you’d end up drinking. maybe not to you directly, but maybe to mitch or the band, just to know how you were doing. i’ve heard the stories about your previous breakups from your friends, and i knew that that was your coping mechanism. i think i tried to make myself believe that you were doing fine without me. i really hoped you were. i still hope you’re going to be.”

his face fell. what did she just say? why was she talking about the future as if she wasn’t going to be in it?

“what? what do you mean ‘i hope you’re going to be’?”

“i mean, i hope that you’ll be able to move forward someday, and find someone who’s there for you, all the time.” she looked at him, furrowing her brows. why was he so surprised?

“you’re unbelievable.” he looked away, chuckling wryly, his hands dropping from her face.

“excuse me?”

“how do you think i’m ever going to be able to move on from you? every single fucking song i write is about you! everything i do, i do it because of you, for you. there’s no one else. the one, the other half of the apple, my soulmate, whatever you want to call it. you’re it for me.”

“Har-“ she caught herself before slipping up again. “when i decided to meet up with you, i didn’t think that was going to change anything. at the end of the day, don’t we have the same problems as before? you’re all over the place, and i’m here. we haven’t actually resolved anything, we just apologised to each other, nothing has-“

she couldn’t finish her speech, because suddenly his lips were on hers. 

and god, did she miss the feeling.

that kiss felt like going home. 

harry couldn’t believe he went two months without this, without her.

she felt like she finally started breathing, like she was in an apnea for the last two months. 

this kiss was soft, like they were afraid they’d break each other, like whatever was between them was so delicate that they were utterly terrified of destroying it; but still hungry, they couldn’t get enough. for two months they deprived themselves of this, and harry was sure he wouldn’t let that happen ever again.

after they were out of breath, they pulled apart, and he pressed his forehead to hers.

“that was, uhm- that was good.” she said, a bit lightheaded.

“yeah, it was.” he chuckled lightly.

“but..”

“no ‘but’. please.”

“okay, uhm, however..”

“that’s just a fancy ‘but’, you smartass.” 

she chuckled at that, and he felt like every single flower in the world bloomed at the sound of her laugh. he wants to hear this sound for the rest of his days.

“we do need to talk about everything. if we don’t, things won’t change and we will end up in the same place as before. and if we want this — us — to work, then we need to-“

he kissed her again.

“i’m trying to talk here, can you-“

and again.

“just give me a min-“

and again.

“oh for pete’s sake, H, let me talk!”

she called him H. he couldn’t help but smirk, that soon became a full smile, his bunny teeth in full display. 

“what are you smiling about?”

“nothing, angel. just looking at you. go on.”

—

soooo, here it is! i wasn’t planning on a happy ending, i have to be honest, but i couldn’t break your heart anymore! i’m so glad i had the chance to share this story with you all 🤍 thank you, all the love to you all x

@thiyaabs @harryspirate @whipthemcurls @fragile-skin-and-bones @fulla02 @giveyourheartabreak-xx @hopelessyellowlover @behindmygreyeyes

[two-hands-toward-the-sun]

20 Questions For Fic Writers!

Thank you so much for the tag, @honeyteacakes!! I loved reading your responses. This was so much fun to do.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

35! Some of them are locked to attempt to minimise AI scraping.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

44,236 holy shit

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I’m pretty deeply embedded in the Sandman-verse. But I’ve also written an AC Odyssey fic recently.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I’m skipping this one because I embedded so many links in this post and I don’t wanna do it anymore. 😂 And people can just filter by kudos on AO3 if they’re interested.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I respond EXTREMELY slowly, but I make every effort to reply to comments when I have the energy to spare. It means a lot to me when people take the time to tell me what they liked about my stories.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oooh. Good question. It’s either “pour the dirt into our bed” (Ranger’s Apprentice, referencing homophobia faced in a queerplatonic relationship) or “if you want voices in the dark, listen to mine” (Good Omens, after a temptation gone wrong.)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I write a fair amount of tender stories, so there are a lot of possible answers to this one! Potentially it’s “our place in the sun” (Sandman, Lucienne/Calliope domestic fluff) which is all about coming to rest and settling into love. Another option is “throw down that spade and dig up the garden” (Good Omens, Ineffable Husbands) which is about…pretty much the same thing, now that I think about it. 😂

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully not. I genuinely can’t understand why people leave hate comments on fics. Sure, there’s a lot of things I take issue with in certain fandoms, but I bitch about that stuff strictly IN MY OWN SPACE, I absolutely do not barge into other people’s spaces to do it. I never will and you can hold me to that.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I WANT TO. I’m working on it!! I actually have a smut prompt ask game queued up for next year, when I’ll have fewer writing obligations. As for what kind, I want to write so much femslash smut. There is devastatingly little in the Sandman fandom.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

OHOHOHO. I have written a Los Simuladores/Good Omens crossover and it is genuinely one of my favorite stories that I’ve ever written. “every morning the same big and little words all spelling out desire” is appropriately zany, hopefully sexy, and seasoned with a dash of angst to balance the flavors.

(Shout out to @jlemonster for writing such a glowing post about it, it makes me happy just remembering it.)

Another crossover I’m working on is Johanna Constantine/Mary Poppins. I PROMISE it will make sense when it’s written. …well, maybe. 😂

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!!! As part of Fandom Trumps Hate this year I had two fics of mine wonderfully translated into Spanish by @yourneighborhoodneighbor and it was an amazing experience.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope. I don’t know if that would work with my writing habits, tbh. Maybe someday though, if the right idea and right person come along!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh GOD. Complicated question!! There are ships I’m currently enamored of, obviously, but who knows if they’ll stand the test of time? I know that Kaz/Inej (Six of Crows) and Irina/Jack (Alias) did something to my adolescent brain that may never be undone, but that’s the closest I can get to an answer to this question.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I’ve got a Good Omens Ineffable Wives AU inspired by Anne of Green Gables that is very dear to me, and has many aspects I’m extremely proud of, but I don’t know if I’ll ever finish it. My interest in Good Omens has flagged of late and unfortunately I don’t know if I’ll complete many of my WIPs for that fandom!

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I have a good grasp on characters’ voices! Also, I think I write tactile and descriptive details well.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

TRANSITIONS ARE THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I have done it once!!! For the aforementioned Los Simus fic. It was so much fun, and a good challenge for me. The dialogue was in Spanish (with very valuable help from @thisisnotjuli) and I loved writing how the two characters spoke in somewhat differing dialects.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh, lord. Probably Harry Potter? By hand, in a notebook from the dollar store. I was probably about eight or nine.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

They’re my children. My babies. My beloved frogspawn. I can’t give a definite answer, but…two of the stories that I worried my lip over the most for dread of failing to do them justice, the ones I think I put the most heart and consideration and care into, are “it’s an old song (and we’re gonna sing it again)” (Sandman, Calliope & Dream + healing and rediscovery and intimacy and changed but no less important relationships) and “sister dear, bear me away” (Good Omens, a human AU about gender discovery).

No pressure tags: the usual suspects <3 @pyrocephalus-rubinus @fatcatgospel and Juli, as well as @zorawitch @azi-sings-calliope @cosmictapestry, and anyone else who reads this and wants to talk about their creations!!