#who started as a perfect parent from the beginning?

[preppyacademy]

From a meaningless virtual life to the preppy boy I am now

Elliot's story

To convince you to come to the Preppy Academy, here's Elliot's personal testimonial. His life has changed radically thanks to our school's methods. The following are his words: 

Hello, my name is Elliot, I'm 20. I'm a student at the Preppy Academy. I'd like to thank M.Gilliard, our principal, who has asked me to write an account of my time here. 

Two years ago, I was still living with my father. I often dressed in sportswear; I loved Adidas clothes, so comfortable and easy to put on. Did I do any sport? No, not at all, but my mates dressed the same, so I followed suit. When I wasn't at school, I used to play video games all the time. I wore my clothes for days on end because I was too lazy to change. My bedroom was a real dump, with everything strewn all over the place. My diet consisted of eating chips and drinking sodas. 

My father was fed up with my bad behavior. He works in business, economics, something like that. My mother left us when I was a kid, and since then it's just been me and him. He'd tell me to “tidy my room”, “get dressed properly”. But I didn't give a damn, soon, I thought, I'll be able to leave soon, and I thought I'd be able to live with a friend in a flat-share for a bit of fun. 

There was a week when I made a decision that I had regretted at the time but that now makes me what I am. That week, it was at the beginning of my school year and I was playing a game that was too epic and I wanted to do it too much, so I made my dad think I was going to high school while I was pretending. Then, when he left for work, I'd come back and play on my P.S. console. But my stupidity caught up with me, and my father was contacted by the school and told of my repeated absences. It was a Thursday lunchtime, I remember, and he came home to find me quietly in bed. He came into my dirty room and said: 

" Elliot, that's enough! You're not going to school anymore, you're dressing like crap. Look at you, you've got holes in your clothes. You haven't washed or combed your hair in days. Things are going to change for you. A colleague at work told me about a boarding school that would be perfect for you. "

I was on my phone when he said this so I half-listened, as usual. He was clearly desperate about my behavior and had every reason to be. Now I understand. At the end of the afternoon, my father called me and reminded me that he had to take me to the dentist for an annual check-up. I'd completely forgotten, it wasn't something I was interested in remembering. I stayed in the same clothes and he took me to the dentist. I really didn't remember the appointment. Once there, my father accompanied me inside. A waiting room with other parents and their teenagers. There were guys from high school, who were also dressed in sweatpants and sweatshirts and sneakers. I wasn't the only one who dressed like that, which is why it seemed normal to do so. When it was my turn, the dentist called me in. I sat down in his dentist's chair. He asked me to lie down so he could check the inside of my mouth. He put some products in my mouth to relax it. And these products were starting to put me to sleep; he'd put in more than usual. 

I had fallen asleep on his armchair, I didn't know for how long. When I woke up, my hands were tied tightly to the chair. I tried to speak, but my mouth was still anesthetized. My father was talking to the dentist, and they were both looking at me. My father had collected my things, my bag and my phone. Looking around, I soon realized that I wasn't really at the dentist. The man posing as one approached me and said: 

"Elliot, your father, has informed us of your behavior at home and has decided to leave you with us for a while. Do you agree? "

I couldn't answer as my mouth was still anesthetized. 

" Since you're not answering my question, I imagine you're completely in agreement. If you don't say anything within a minute, we'll assume you agree."

I was trying to speak to refuse and scream for help, but only discreet moans came out. 

" Then we do have your agreement. "

My eyes began to tire again and I finally dozed off again.

I don't know what treatment he gave me, but it was like a dissociation. I saw myself outside my body like a ghost looking at my body. My father left with my things. The staff laid me properly on the bed and undressed me. I was completely naked at one point. They put a red ball in my mouth and covered my mouth with a gag that held with a tight strap behind it. I was as if unable to act, in the hands of my kidnappers. They dressed me in a white short-sleeved polo shirt, buttoned all the way up, tucked into khaki shorts with a brown belt, white knee-high socks and black loafers. They then cut my hair and styled it, neatly styled to the side and held with wax. I began to regain consciousness little by little, but I felt as if I were paralyzed in my own body, between the products that were still taking effect and the bonds that prevented me from fleeing. 

"Elliot, you're back with us. We've prepared you in a more respectable outfit than the garbage you used to wear. This preppy outfit suits you much better. Your hair looks much better like this. You probably have a lot of questions, but you're in good hands. I'm Doctor Greenwood, I'm here when sometimes you need a little push to get you into the Academy. I'll leave you here tonight and you'll make your official entrance tomorrow. "

I was stuck on this bed for several hours, and above me they'd set up a screen with a series of images and sounds that I had no choice but to watch. And no matter how tempted I was to close my eyes, a deep voice kept reading every word on the moving image. Eventually, I fell asleep to the rhythm of the video, which hypnotized me as it went along. 

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy” again and again and again...

This mantra was stuck in my head like music that never wants to come out. I still felt resistance, an urge to rebel and run away, but I was blocked and strangely began to feel pleasure at the idea of being a good preppy boy. 

When I woke up, four men in their thirties, all dressed in pastel shirts tucked into their pants, with bowties and loafers, took me by force. They took me by the arms and forced me to follow them. They put me in a van and tied me up. My gag was still in my mouth and I couldn't scream. I was at their mercy, with no power or control over the situation. I was their object. 

I was taken to a large, ivy-league type establishment, at the top of the main entrance is written “Preppy Academy”. I was led inside and up the stairs. I arrive in a very elegant office, with wood paneling and bookcases on every wall. The 4 men undress me.

I find myself in a preppy outfit: a white and blue striped OCBD shirt, pastel yellow shorts, red and blue suspenders, a dark blue and red striped tie tied around my neck, long white knee-high socks and dark loafers. Nothing to do with my outfits at home. I've been completely transformed into a preppy boy. I'm left with my hands tied and my mouth gagged in this office. I don't know what to do, I'm a slave to this establishment. My outfit isn't as comfortable as the one at home, I can feel the fabric of my shirt on my torso compressing me, the suspenders holding my shorts are like two ropes binding my outfit to my body, the pulled-up socks are so humiliating, I feel like a boy. But as I think I'm disgusted by my outfit, I realize that it actually turns me on. I like to think I have to be dressed like this to feel good. A few minutes later, a man in his fifties walks in. He's dressed in a nice three-piece suit, with a red tie. He looks at me deeply: 

"Hello Elliot! Welcome to the Preppy Academy. Your father told me you weren't behaving properly at home. He contacted us and paid for your enrollment. Whether you like it or not, you're staying here. You'll wake up here and sleep here. Your education needs to be reviewed. You must learn to be a good preppy boy for your superiors. I am M.Gilliard, the principal of this prestigious establishment. I am the Master of all the students here. You owe me obedience, submission, service and respect. "

These words enchanted me, and even though I wanted to leave, I could only nod in agreement. 

"To complete your admission among us, I must collect something. "

The 4 young men from earlier return and make me sit down on the chair, holding me tight. Mr. Gilliard unzips my pants and pulls out my penis. I start moaning, not agreeing with what's happening. Mr.Gilliard puts a sort of cage on my penis, forcing it to stay very small and any erection would hurt. 

" It's called a chastity cage. I'm the only one who keeps the keys. Every good boy here is caged. Your personal pleasure doesn't matter; you're here to obey and learn to serve. Your only satisfaction at the end of the day is to please men superior to you. "

“I want to be a preppy boy. Good preppy boys must obey, serve, submit, behave. Good boys comply. I want to be a good preppy boy”. This phrase made more and more sense. I was introduced to the establishment, the rules to follow and taken to a room I had to share, with a wardrobe full of preppy clothes, nothing I'd had before. 

I've been here for two years now and I don't want to leave. I like to serve my Master when he asks for it. I like being a good preppy boy. Obedient and helpful. I don't miss my old life anymore. I encourage all boys and men to come to the Preppy Academy. You'll love it! 

[astrangetorpedo]

IN INTERVIEW

Julien Baker, the interview 6/8/2016

At just 20 years old, Julien Baker gave us last year a first album of intense and rare emotional force, the superb Sprained Ankle reviewed here . A moving record that left a deep and lasting mark on me. It was therefore impossible to miss the young American's arrival in Paris and not to take advantage of the opportunity to try to get to know this outstanding artist a little better. A meeting was thus organized thanks to the invaluable help of Sean, her manager, in a café in the 12th arrondissement, two hours before the young lady's very first Parisian concert, on May 24. A one-on-one meeting that revealed to me an adorable and voluble young woman, incredibly touching and sincere, and above all determined to seize life with all her might! A moment of exchange and sharing that I am not ready to forget.

Hello Julien!

Julien Baker : Hello!

First of all, thank you very much for granting us this interview. I am a big fan of your music and it makes me really happy to meet you!

Oh, thank you! It's a great pleasure for me too, you know! I still can't believe that people like my music enough to want to meet me to talk about it. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, really!

Perfect! Let’s start at the beginning of your story. I read that you’ve been making music for a while now. Could you summarize the journey that led you to where you are today?

Yeah, sure! I started listening to music in middle school. It was rock, I was really into it with painted nails, black eye makeup, all that stuff! [laughs] Then I started playing in bands, punk bands mostly. Then I joined Forrister which is the band I still play in today. We were playing shows in cities around our area. Then I went to college and a friend of mine who worked in a studio there offered me to record with him for free. Since my band couldn't be there, I did it solo, without any specific plans. I put the album out on Bandcamp for $2 or $3 a copy.

That's when Sean [Julien's manager] contacted me and suggested we release the album in a more official and professional way. I told him that I was actually in a band, Forrister, and that no one would be interested in me as a solo artist. He insisted and even though I didn't believe it at all, I agreed to give it a try. I'll always remember the day he called me to tell me that NPR [National Public Radio] was going to play my single. I hung up crying and immediately called my mom all excited to tell her the news! But then, as things seemed to start to take off for me, I started to doubt myself. I felt guilty towards the rest of the band, thinking that they would resent me for doing this project without them. So I called the drummer and asked him what they thought and he said they were just proud and super happy and not mad at me in any way. So I kept going and here I am! I never thought I would come to Europe and do all this, it's crazy, really!

During the band's time, did you already have this desire to write your own songs?

I don't think I had any real unfulfilled desire to do this.

But you were writing?

Yes, I wrote my own songs. But not because the band was holding me back or preventing me from doing it within the collective. It's just that sometimes you write songs but they don't fit the moment. So I put those lyrics aside, like that, without any specific goal. I've always written and played in different bands. There was enough space for all that, things didn't have to be done exclusively in one framework or another.

Were your parents musicians?

Not really. Well my dad bought me a guitar and showed me how to play it. So I started playing by practicing at home on my own. I also took piano lessons but for a very short time. My teacher didn't really like me because I didn't work hard enough. I just played by ear without wanting to learn to read music and he didn't like that. So I taught myself. But my parents were big music fans. They played records all the time at home. When I was younger I wanted to go to a concert, my dad would come with me to make sure I was safe! He was the only adult in the middle of all these tattooed and pierced kids! [laughs] Oddly enough it never bothered me. When he made a surprise appearance at the Bowery Ballroom for my concert in New York, I was so proud! He and my mom have always been a great support!

This is really great!

Yes I know !

In addition to being an author and composer, you are also a student. Are you still going to university?

I just finished my semester. It's currently summer vacation. But I think I'm going to take a break in the fall. I completed the theoretical part of my literature course thanks to online courses. The last thing I need to fully validate my teaching diploma is the practical part, in school with students. I tried to do it last fall but it's complicated to carry out both projects at the same time: give lessons during the week then take a plane to California or New York on the weekend to play a concert, before returning to teach on Monday morning! So I'm going to take a break to devote all my time to music.

Do you want to teach one day?

I think I would really enjoy teaching. I love it. As a teenager I was a summer camp counselor, I love children. So yes it would be really cool to teach!

You studied literature. Did that influence your way of writing?

Yes, totally! I try to feed myself as much as I can from all these different ways of perceiving life and emotions that I find in books. It enriches me intellectually speaking. I have the feeling of learning new things about myself each time I discover a new author and this is then reflected in my writing I think, consciously or unconsciously.

Are you familiar with French literature?

Voltaire! I often joke with my professor friends that I would really like to have a big Voltaire and Cervantes tattoo! I already have a Gabriel Garcia Marquez tattoo [Julien then shows me his 2-part tattoo on the inside of his 2 wrists]…

Is he your favorite writer?

One of my favorites, I can't choose just one! And so when my students would complain that Voltaire is an old man who's not cool, I could show them my Voltaire tattoo and prove to them that it's really cool! [laughs] Reading Candide really changed my life. It was incredible! I think the translation of the title is The Optimist , which is quite ironic. Cervantes wrote Don Quixote and we have this word in English, "quixotic" which means optimistic but optimistic to the extreme, to the point where even if everything is going wrong in your life and you know it, you continue to believe in it despite everything. There is a really romantic and admirable dimension to that attitude I find. Same for Candide where there is this quote that I always come back to when I feel really bad and which says: "I wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but I still loved life" . I think I cried when I first read that sentence. Anyway, I could talk about literature for hours, don't drag me down that dangerous path! [laughs]

Haha, ok. So back to the music! Listening to your album I couldn't help but think of two other artists I really like: Sharon Van Etten and TORRES…

I love TORRES!

Me too! I even did my very first interview with her!

Wow! She's amazing!

Do you agree with this comparison even if the artists in question do not come from the same scene as you?

I totally agree with this comparison! As a teenager I only listened to punk and thought that anything that wasn't punk was worthless. Then I grew up as a musician and learned to appreciate all styles. When you really love music, you love an artist as long as their music is honest and good, no matter what the style. It doesn't matter if it's hip hop or country or whatever!

I totally agree!

And so I'm a big fan of TORRES! I loved her first album, the one before Sprinter . The song Honey is the very first one I heard from her.

The same !

And oh my god, what a song! I played with her in Chicago, I was added as the opening act at the very last minute, I felt so honored! On my way to the dressing room, I ran into her and as I was saying "Oh sorry, I don't want to bother you" she said "No, come on, this is a shared space, you have as much right to be here as I do" and she kindly invited me in. As for Sharon, it's funny because the first time I met her, she asked me to have lunch with her, can you imagine having lunch in New York with Sharon Van Etten! And she told me she was also going to invite her friend Mackenzie [Mackenzie Scott aka TORRES]. But our phones died and we couldn't get a hold of her. So in Chicago TORRES couldn't make the connection, I was just the little girl at the door!

Excellent! Are there any other musical influences that you would claim?

Do you know David Banzan?

Nope…

Ok. There's a band called Pedro The Lion and David Bazan is the lead singer. He influenced me quite a bit. And do you know Death Cab For Cutie?

Yes of course !

They were the first non-punk band I listened to. At the time I only listened to loud and fast music, but when I heard Transatlanticism for the first time it was a shock, everything changed. They really meant a lot to me.

Your texts are very strong and very personal. When you wrote them, did you think about the impact they could have on those around you first and then on the general public?

Well, at first, I didn't imagine that this solo album would lead me anywhere, I was convinced that my music would only be made with my band Forrister. So when I released the album on Bandcamp, I really thought that only my friends would listen to it. So I wrote all these songs like that, just for me, without really thinking about the scope of the lyrics. And I'm ultimately happy that I didn't think about it because if I had known what was waiting for me, I think I would have most certainly changed things, I would have probably been more reserved in my words. But if it's difficult for me to show my vulnerability, I realize that it's totally worth it when young people come up to me after concerts to tell me that my music has helped them in difficult times in their lives. It's of course a little embarrassing for me to share such intimate things but if these things make others feel good, then I think it's worth it in the end.

But isn't it a little scary to expose yourself so completely naked and transparent? It's so brave, I don't know if I could do it myself!

Well, you see, it's exactly the same for me, I'm not sure I would have been able to do it if I had known everything in advance! But now that it has happened, I feel that from now on I have the right, the license to be brave. Perhaps it was the plans of destiny or God, something like that.

And isn't it too difficult for you to sing songs every day that inevitably bring you back to painful moments?

I think there are two options. Option one: I can sing these songs every night, let them take me back in time and feel sorry for myself. Option two: there is the quote from this poet that I love who says that all the horrible things in life just need to be seen from a different and courageous perspective. Things that seem bad can indeed turn out to be good in the end. So I have chosen to let the dark and sad aspects of my songs become pretexts to be positive and happy. Because yes, all these things have happened to me but if that had not been the case, I probably would never have written these lyrics and I would not be here today in Paris talking to you, Laurence! In the grand scheme of things, everything has a meaning and works for our good in the end.

That's very beautiful what you say! [laughs] To talk about lighter things, this is your first time in Europe, isn't it?

Yes !

How do you feel?

I love it! I have such a good time. Well I don't sleep much... [laughs]

Is it the time difference or the excitement?

Well now it's the excitement! But a week ago it was also the jet lag [laughs]. Imagine, we traveled for over 30 hours straight to get here! I first took a plane to Richmond and then a train to Washington DC. We then took a flight to Iceland where we took another flight to Copenhagen. Once there we took a train but due to a problem on the tracks we had to take a bus that took us to another train! When we arrived at the hotel, we were totally exhausted! [laughs] It was 11 o'clock in the evening but at that time of year the sun hadn't set because we were so far north and my body didn't understand anything at all! But hey after a good night's sleep everything was better! And now if I don't sleep it's just because I don't want to miss anything, not a single minute you know! I thought I would never be able to afford to travel and once again it seems that Destiny's plans are extraordinarily kind to me. I feel so grateful and lucky!

And that's just the beginning!

I hope so! But you know, even if everything had to stop, well in any case it would have been much, much more than I could have imagined! I am so grateful for everything that is happening to me!

Are there any particular places you want to discover?

Sean has been here before and wants to show me places he liked. Today he took me to see the Sacré-Cœur which is beautiful. On my side, there are also places I would like to visit, especially in Barcelona, ​​because I am majoring in Spanish literature. I would like to go to the café where Picasso had his very first exhibition, long before he was famous. I would also like to see the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's work, visit a museum, buy a Viva Cataluña t-shirt and eat paella. I am so excited to be able to do all these things!

That's great! But it's going to take you some time to do all of this!

We are staying there for the whole festival [Primavera Sound Festival]. So we should have some time. Of course we won't sleep much because in the evening I also want to attend the concerts!

You'll sleep when you get home!

Exactly! Since I am a big coffee drinker, one of my friends gave me a badge for my jacket that says "I will sleep when I am dead" ! [laughs] There are indeed so many things to experience in one life! [laughs]

And what are your plans for after the European tour?

We're actually going to be touring until the end of the year.

Will you come back to Europe?

We're going to Australia in November I think. I can't wait! We're also going to tour the States so as for Europe I don't really know... And then I hope to have some free time early next year. I'm always writing new songs that I play live. I must have 30 demos on my computer and I'd really like to record them. So it would be great if I could get into the studio early next year!

Last question: do you have one or more musical recommendations to share with us?

Lucy Dacus!

Oh I love it!

We played together in Washington DC. I had never heard her songs before Washington and I remember hearing the lyrics to Map On A Wall which say "I hope good comes from good and good comes from bad anyway" and I started crying all by myself watching her play. Her music is so beautiful, so powerful! And we have so much in common: questions of spirituality, sexuality and faith, questions about gender too and the place of girls in rock music. We are really like two halves of the same person. We have the same booker and were approached by the same label. And when I saw her again in Richmond I knew we operated exactly the same way. So our biggest fear is that we will one day become jaded and arrogant. We want to remain grateful, sincere and enthusiastic. There are so many people who do this for a long time and end up jaded. It's really great to find someone who feels exactly the same way you do, and that's the case with Lucy. We're platonic soulmates! She's a very, very dear friend.

You must tell her at all costs to come and shoot in Europe and in Paris because there are people waiting for her here!

Promise! I'll send her a message as soon as I have wifi!

Lucy Dacus! A perfect choice! Thank you very much Julien!

Thank you! It was great!

photos by jean-marc ferré 📸

interview by lolo from paris (who has great footage of that paris show on his youtube account) 📝

wayback link for the interview 🔗

[justanerddummie]

Ok, I'm going to ramble once again, about the new amazing sneak peak that at least to me feels like Vi is kind of trying to put herself in jail once again, it's pretty long so I'll put a cut.

It's kind of the perfect parallel with s1 if you think about it, except this time it's not Marcus that drags her in Stillwater but it's Vi who creates a weird version of it by herself.

"So you just wave an arm, have someone dragged out, don't bother to find out what it does to someone being stuffed in a stone box for weeks, months or even years" this is what Vi tells jayce after he threatened her to have her arrested and it's kind of what we see in the sneak peak. Vi locks herself in her one bedroom apartment and slowly loses her sanity with every passing second, only to go downstairs when she can't take it anymore - no one can convince me that the apartment isn't right above the fighting pit - and either gets herself beat up until she looses consciousness or drinks enough to pass out.

The fact that she hallucinates Caitlyn makes me think that she's going to blame herself for Cait's villain era, almost as if she created not just Jinx but another monster, and in a weird and fucked up way I think this is also Vi's way of getting a time-out from being herself, from being the reason everybody goes batshit crazy and the only way she can do it is by locking herself away in the deepest pit the underground has to offer, a place where her actions affects her and only her (somebody please go check on her).

In Vi's head it all makes sense, and I don't think this is an identy crisis, I think this is the end of a cycle for her, (like if you think abt s1 it's pretty obvious how the "kids" are making the same choices of their parents with a few differences here and there but with the same results, and then the cycle starts again) this is the end of the story of her trying to save her sister and accidentally turning the naive, bright eyed enforcer that got her out of jail in an even bigger monster, so she decides to lock herself up, to punish herself.

This is the pinnacle of Vander's education (don't get me wrong I love the guy, but in trying to teach Vi what he learned from his mistakes he forgot to teach her that other's people actions are not her fault), now what remains to be seen is if this is just another beginning of the same cycle or if she'll manage to break it.

Because at the end of the day I think Vi's the only character who can manage that, she's the link between top side and underground and possibly one the few characters who is capable of forgiveness, not for herself unfortunately but for others, yes, she is.

[lesbehonestsstuff]

I apologize for what I’m about to do 😀 remember when I posted about Casey going to visit Alex’s mom after Alex died ? well I took it and ran with it and out came a heartbreaking fic so here you go

Word count: 3882

Also @wild-fleurs you put the idea in my head to write this so now we can both be sad

Casey was trying, she was trying her best to keep going, but most days she couldn't even find the strength to get out of bed. Today though she had managed, managed to pull herself from the nest of grief she had made of their room, and somehow stumbled uptown. She stood in front of the heavy oak door, the night chill creeping through her bones despite the wool coat she had hastily thrown on. She raised her hand to knock but hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to bother Caroline. She felt hollowed out, like there was nothing left of her but grief and guilt, and showing up at this hour—it felt selfish. But where else could she go?

She had no one else in the city. Her parents didn’t talk to her anymore, her siblings lived in other states, she was all alone. Except for Caroline. Caroline, who had been stoic the day of the funeral letting tear after tear fall when her daughter's casket was lowered to the ground. Casey had been beside her and she barely managed to keep it together before she excused herself, sobs clawing out of her throat as she fled needing to get as far from the cemetery as she could.

She felt bad about it later but she couldn’t handle it and couldn't be there on the receiving end of people’s sympathy. She hadn’t seen Caroline since and quite frankly she didn’t know why she was currently standing in front of the brownstone; she just knew she had to get out of their apartment. Away from the reminders of what her life used to look like, Alex marking every part of it

Her hand hovered a second longer before she tapped lightly. The sound was so soft she worried it hadn’t registered, but within moments, the door creaked open. Caroline Cabot stood in the soft lamplight, dressed in her silk robe, her face apparently calm, but there was an exhaustion born not from physical tiredness, but from the endless weight of grief that Casey could see in her features. Caroline so poised graceful could very well be the only person who might understand what Casey was feeling.

"Casey," Caroline’s voice was low, carrying with it a warmth that broke something inside of Casey. That made her ache because not even her wife dying had gotten her own mother to at least pick up the phone and check on her. "What are you doing here, darling? It's so late."

“I—I didn’t know where else to go,” Casey whispered, the words catching in her throat. Her eyes stayed fixed on the threshold, unable to meet Caroline’s gaze. She was begining to regret her decision to come intrude on Caroline’s night.

Caroline however stepped aside immediately, the silent invitation giving Casey the slightest of comfort. "Come inside, sweetheart."

Casey walked in, her body stiff and uncertain, the warm, familiar smell of the house wrapping around her, pulling her back to all the times she and Alex had spent here. For Casey it had been awkward at first. The lavish home occupied by people she could never begin to pretend she could be. It had made her feel inferior but slowly the more Alex invited her over to see her mother in law the more comfortable Casey got. She started loving the place, always warm, always lingering with the smell of tea. But tonight, the memories were sharp, jagged. They cut into her, not as much as in her apartment but still so incredibly painful.

As Caroline closed the door behind them, Casey found herself shaking from the cold. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“You could never bother me,” Caroline said, her tone as soft as the hands she placed gently on Casey’s arm. “Sit down, dear.”

Casey shuffled toward the couch, she sank into the plush cushions, feeling small in the vast, elegant living room. The space was perfect, just like Caroline. Every detail, from the well-curated art to the perfectly arranged flowers on the mantel, it all showed Caroline’s refined taste. But tonight, it all felt like a reminder of how she didn’t belong here anymore. Without Alex, this world of grace and perfection seemed alien to her once more.

"I couldn’t stay at the apartment," Casey mumbled, her voice barely audible. "Everything... everything there reminds me of her."

Caroline nodded, sitting next to Casey, her face showing nothing but understanding. She had learned, in her grief, how to master that particular expression—the one that said, ‘I feel it too, but we must go on.’ But now, watching Casey, something felt wrong. Casey wasn’t just grieving; she was unraveling, bit by bit, and Caroline could see it in every hollowed-out shadow on her face, in the way her clothes hung loosely on her frame.

“Have you eaten?” Caroline asked gently, though she already knew the answer.

Casey shook her head. "I’m not very hungry anymore."

Caroline's lips pressed into a thin line, not wanting to push her, but unwilling to let her slip further away. "You should eat something. Just a little."

Casey barely responded, her gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the room. The emptiness in her eyes made Caroline worry. She looked so much smaller than she remembered—Alex had always told her how strong Casey was, how she could take on the world if she wanted to. But now? Now, she looked fragile, as if a strong wind could blow her away.

“You look exhausted, my dear. Why don’t you close your eyes for a little while, while I make dinner?” Caroline’s voice was soft, her hand stroking Casey’s hair slowly.

“I... I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her,”

“You need to try, your body needs it so just close your eyes and i'll stay here with you

Caroline watched as Casey’s eyes fluttered shut, her breathing evening out into soft, broken sighs. She looked so fragile, so heartbreakingly lost. Caroline’s own grief was constantly threatening to swallow her whole. But having Casey here, taking care of her,maybe it could give her something to hold on to, some piece of Alex still in her life.

Caroline reached for a nearby blanket and draped it gently over Casey’s thin form satisfyed when she saw her daughter in laws features relax. She could see how much weight Casey had lost, the dark circles under her eyes noticeable against her pale skin. Caroline felt her heart twist with worry. This girl, this beautiful, broken woman who had loved her daughter so fiercely, was fading before her eyes. And Caroline couldn’t let that happen. Not when Casey was a part of Alex.

She disappeared into the kitchen, her slippered feet barely making a sound. The act of preparing food, something warm, comforting was automatic. Tomato soup, the kind Alex had loved, the kind Caroline had made for years. As the broth simmered, the scent of garlic and thyme filled the house. It was strange, how the simple act of cooking could still feel grounding in the midst of everything, giving her back a sense of a routine she hadnt had since her daughter died.

Casey didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but when she woke, the room was dark and quiet. Caroline was seated nearby with a cup of tea in her hands reading a book with the soft glow of a lamp. The house smelled good and her stomach rumbled craving whatever Caroline had cooked.

Alex was still gone.

But Caroline… Caroline was still here.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep” Casey mumbled, attempting to sit up, but Caroline was next to her in a moment and stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Caroline said softly. “You needed the rest.”

She gave her a small smile and disappeared quickly into the kitchen bringing back a tray with soup and a grilled cheese. “You’ll have to forgive me dear, much like Alex. I'm not very good in the kitchen” Caroline said softly, setting the tray on the coffee table. "I know it feels like you can’t but you need to try. Just a few bites, sweetheart. Please.”

Casey’s eyes flicked to the bowl, the steam rising from the soup, but she didn’t move. “I can’t. It feels like I can’t swallow it down. She’s gone, and I...”

Caroline’s chest tightened. She sat down beside Casey, her voice steady but full of compassion. "She wouldn’t want you to starve yourself, to stop taking care of yourself. You know how stubborn Alex could be. She would hate to see you like this, Casey."

“I know.” Casey’s voice cracked, her body curling in on itself as though the weight of her sorrow was too much to bear. "I know she would, but I don’t know how to be without her. I don’t know how to keep going.”

Caroline reached out, gently brushing a tear from Casey’s cheek. “You don’t have to know how. You just have to take it one moment at a time.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy,” Casey admitted after a long pause. “Like I’ll never feel anything but this… numbness. Like I’m forgetting her already. Isn’t that horrible?”

Caroline looked at her with soft eyes, her own grief rippling through the room. “No, it’s not horrible. It’s part of the pain, darling. But you’re not forgetting her. She’s with you in everything you do. Grief… it doesn’t mean forgetting. It means learning to live with the love you still carry.”

Casey closed her eyes, tears spilling over her lashes as she leaned into Caroline’s shoulder, her body shaking with the sobs she had tried so hard to hold back. "I don’t know if I can do this."

“You can,” Caroline whispered, her hand cradling the back of Casey’s head. “I promise you, you can. And I’m here with you.”

"How... how do you keep it together so well?" Casey’s voice was barely more than a whisper, shaky and fragile. She didn't meet Caroline's gaze, instead staring into her bowl as though it held some hidden answer.

Caroline sighed softly, she took a deep breath, her hands resting in her lap, fingers trembling slightly. “I don't, dear.”

Casey looked up, her brow furrowing in confusion. She had always admired Caroline’s composure, the way she seemed to navigate grief with such grace, even when Casey herself was crumbling. “What do you mean? I came to check on you and you’re here comforting me.”

Caroline’s smile was faint, bittersweet, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I lost my husband years ago. That taught me how to grieve, I know what it feels like and yet it doesn’t make it any easier. I never thought I’d lose my daughter too.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she closed her eyes, as if trying to hold herself together. “I’m not strong, Casey. I struggle every day. I’m in pain every day. It’s hard to keep going because it isn’t fair that she’s gone.”

Tears welled up in Casey’s eyes, her heart pounding painfully in her chest as she watched Caroline, someone who had always seemed so poised, now breaking in front of her. She saw the lines of grief etched deeper into Caroline’s face, the quiet way her shoulders shook as she tried to keep her tears at bay.

“I thought losing Alexander was the hardest thing I’d ever go through,” Caroline continued, her voice tight, “but losing Alex... there are days I don’t know how I’m still standing.”

Casey reached out hesitantly, placing her hand on top of Caroline’s. The older woman squeezed back, her grip surprisingly firm, holding tightly to Casey.

“I’m sorry,” Casey whispered, guilt weighing heavily on her chest. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t,” Caroline interrupted softly, shaking her head. “You’re allowed to ask. And you’re allowed to feel like this.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft ticking of a clock on the wall. Caroline wiped at her tears, sniffing softly before her lips curled into a small smile.

“You know,” she started, her voice lighter now, “Alex was always so serious as a child. Proper, even. She had her nose in a book more than anything else. While other children played outside, she was inside reading, arranging her dollhouse or playing chess with her father. She was always in her own little world, so smart and stubborn.” Caroline chuckled softly, her eyes distant, lost in memories of her daughter.

Casey managed a small smile, a flash of warmth blooming in her chest. “That sounds like her.”

Caroline nodded, her gaze softening as she continued. “I knew early on that she wouldn’t end up with a boy. One day, she came home from school when she was about six years old and declared with such authority, ‘Boys are useless, Mama. They’re horrible.’” Caroline laughed, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, so did Casey.

It was a broken, quiet laugh, but it was real. The sound filled the room, easing some of the tension in the air.

Caroline smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “From that day, I had a feeling. I didn’t say anything, of course, but I always knew my daughter would end up with someone special. Someone who could match her, challenge her.” Her gaze softened as she looked at Casey. “And she found you.”

Caroline chuckled softly, her fingers brushing the stray hair from Casey’s face. “She always had such high expectations for herself. And when she met you, she told me she’d found the one”

Casey’s breath hitched in her throat, fresh tears burning her eyes. “She told you that?”

“She did,” Caroline whispered. “She loved you more than anything in this world, Casey.”

Caroline smiled faintly, wiping away a tear that had escaped down Casey’s cheek. “And you loved her more than anyone else ever could. And that makes you family.”

Casey swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion.“Thank you,” she whispered, the words barely audible. She wiped at her face quickly, trying to regain control, but it was impossible. “I miss her so much, Caroline,” she said, her voice cracking.

Caroline pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as she sobbed. “I know, dear. I know. But we have each other. We’ll get through this together.”

The weight of those words settled between them, giving Casey something solid to cling to in the storm that had become her life.

For the first time in months, in this house full of memories, Casey let herself rest.

---

In the weeks that followed, Casey’s visits became more frequent. At first, they were always at night, always after she had spent hours drowning in work or staring at the walls of her empty apartment. But soon, it became routine, Caroline would make tea, Casey would sit quietly at the table, and they would talk. Not always about Alex, but about the small things. The weather. Books. Anything to fill the space between them.

Caroline watched Casey closely during these visits, noting the slight improvements, a little more color in her cheeks, a little less tension in her shoulders, but also the lingering sadness in her eyes. Casey’s grief was still a raw wound, but at least here, in this house, she wasn’t alone.

And in taking care of Casey, Caroline found a sense of purpose again, something to ground her in the face of her own unbearable loss.

---

When Caroline began to get sick, Casey noticed before anyone else. It was in the way her steps slowed, how her voice seemed quieter, weaker. But it wasn’t until Caroline collapsed one evening that Casey’s world shattered again.

Caroline was gone by winter.

Casey stood at the grave, her eyes hollow as she stared at the fresh dirt that covered Caroline’s casket. The air was cold, biting at her cheeks, but she didn’t feel it. Not really. She felt numb again, any progress she had made crumbling beneath her feet now that the woman that had loved her like a mother was gone. As if each loss had taken a piece of her, until there was almost nothing left. First Alex, and now Caroline—the one person who had understood, who had kept her grounded when everything else had fallen apart.

The flowers in her hand trembled as she knelt down, placing them gently on the grave, and then placing the others in front of Alex’s. She wanted to say something, anything, but no words came. How do you thank someone for giving you the only semblance of a family you had left, for helping you grieve their daughter when you couldn’t even grieve for yourself?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the wind. “I should have done more. I should have—”

Her breath hitched, and she stood up quickly, wiping the tears from her eyes. She couldn’t stay any longer.

She got a small comfort in knowing that at least Caroline would be with Alex now. But of course that wasn’t true

The day Alex came back was the best and worst day of Casey’s life.

She had grieved, convinced Alex was gone forever. Months of sleepless nights, empty days, and trying to piece together a life shattered by loss with the help of Caroline. And then suddenly Alex was back, standing in the doorway, alive but looking so broken, like she had been just as lost as Casey. All the anger, confusion, and hurt hit at once. Casey didn't know if she wanted to hold her or scream at her. But the devastation in Alex's eyes, the weight she carried—it made the anger fade, at least for the moment. So she clung to her, almost tackling her in a hug that was interrupted by sobs and tears and kisses that brought back a piece of Casey that she was sure was gone forever.

Days later, they stood together at Caroline’s grave. As much as Alex wanted to go visit her mother she couldn’t bring herself to do it at first, couldn’t face the reality that her mom was gone for good and Casey understood, so she gave her time as they figured out where they stood.

The wind blew through the cemetery, cold and sharp, stinging their skin. Spring was a few weeks away so the cold air was just another reminder of how cruel time had been for both of them. How much time they had lost. Alex stood still, staring at the grave, her face tight, like she was holding herself together by a thread. Casey watched her, unsure if she should reach out or let Alex face this moment alone.

“When they told me she was gone,” Alex finally said, her voice low and rough, “I… I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I kept thinking they had to be wrong, that somehow… it wasn’t real.” She clenched the flowers so tightly, petals broke off, floating down to the dirt.

Casey didn’t say anything, watching the tension build in Alex’s face.

“I was out there in the middle of nowhere, stuck, and all I could think was… she’s gone. My mom is dead, and I wasn’t there. I couldn’t even bury her. What kind of daughter does that?” Alex’s voice broke, and she turned her head, eyes filling with tears she fought to keep in.

“You didn’t have a choice,” Casey said softly. “They didn’t give you a choice, Alex.”

“But I should’ve listened to you!” Alex’s voice cracked, finally letting out what she’d been holding in for so long. “I should’ve listened. You told me not to push it, not to—” She shook her head, words tripping over each other. “And now I’m here, and she’s not. And you—you had to deal with all of this alone because I was too fucking stubborn.”

Casey’s chest tightened, seeing Alex unravel like this. She tried to step closer, but Alex pulled away, pacing in front of the grave like she couldn’t bear to stand still.

“I left you alone. I left her alone.” Alex wiped her face roughly with the back of her hand, her breath coming quicker. “And now… she’s dead. My mom is dead.”

Casey felt her heart shatter again, hearing the raw pain in Alex’s voice, and she reached for her. “Alex—”

“She’s gone. She’s gone, and I—” Alex’s knees gave out, and she crumbled before the grave, clutching the flowers she still held, her shoulders shaking with each sob. “I wasn’t here. I couldn’t even say goodbye.”

Tears streamed down Alex’s face as sob after sob tore through her, shaking her whole body. Casey dropped beside her, pulling her into her arms as Alex’s grief poured out, a flood of months of guilt, pain, and loss.

“She’s gone,” Alex gasped between sobs. “She’s gone, Casey. I’ll never get to see her again. I’ll never hear her voice, never—” She couldn’t finish. The words turned into another flood of choked sobs, her body trembling in Casey’s arms. “I want my mom” she sobbed out letting her head fall against Casey's chest.

Casey pressed her lips to the top of Alex’s head, rocking her gently. “I know. I know, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

For what felt like hours, Alex cried until her voice was hoarse, her tears soaking Casey’s coat. When the sobs finally slowed, Alex leaned back against Casey, utterly drained, her eyes red and swollen. She looked lost, like a little girl who had just lost her entire world.

Casey stroked her hair, whispering softly. “She wasn’t alone. She helped me, and I helped her. We got through it together.”

Alex closed her eyes, her breath still shaky. “I should’ve been the one here with her.”

Casey didn’t know what to say, because she knew no words could make Alex’s guilt go away.

Alex sniffled, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve. “I don’t know how to forgive myself for not being there.”

Casey shifted so she could look into Alex’s eyes, her thumb brushing away the tears still clinging to her cheeks. “ You survived. That’s what matters. That’s what she would’ve wanted and she wouldn’t have wanted to see you drowning in guilt”

“But she’s not here,” Alex whispered, her voice so small it almost broke Casey’s heart all over again.

Casey stared into those beautiful blue eyes and brought Alex in closer as they both knelt by the grave in silence, holding each other in the quiet hurt of their grief. The flowers they’d brought lay in front of the headstone, peonies and daisies.

Alex laid her head on Casey’s shoulder. She just sat there, staring at the grave as the last of her tears dried on her cheeks. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she whispered, “Thank you. For being here. For… everything.”

Casey pressed her forehead to Alex’s. “You don’t have to thank me, Alex. I’m with you, always.”

They got up, hand in hand, there was nothing left to say, but they stood there for a moment longer, letting the quiet surround them. Trying to wake up from the nightmare that had tainted their lives.

[ladysharmaa]

Why don't you love me?

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?

(gif is not mine)

It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.

It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.

Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.

This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.

From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.

However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.

She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?

So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?

It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.

"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.

"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.

At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."

The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."

"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"

However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.

"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"

Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."

When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."

"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.

Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.

But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.

One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.

It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.

To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.

Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"

"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.

The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.

On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.

"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.

"What?" he asked, still disoriented.

Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."

Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"

"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"

The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.

Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.

Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.

"It was silly of me to ask—"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."

"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"

"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."

"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.

"No."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.

The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.

Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.

While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.

But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."

"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.

Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.

"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.

"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."

"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.

"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."

"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."

"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."

Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.

"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."

She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.

"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.

"Lord Bridgerton—"

"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.

"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"

"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."

"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."

"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."

"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.

She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.

Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."

"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."

And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.

[astronicht]

Okay I'm almost done with Fellowship, here's an incomplete list of shit I noticed and thought was buck fucking wild on my first ever read-thru: medieval edition.

In literally the second line of the book, Tolkien implies that Bilbo Baggins wrote a story which was preserved alongside the in-universe version of the Mabinogion (aka the best-known collection of Welsh myths; I promise this is batshit). This is because The Hobbit has been preserved, in Tolkien's AU version of our world, in a "selection of the Red Book of Westmarch" (Prologue, Concerning Hobbits). If you're a medievalist and you see something called "The Red Book of" or "The Black Book of" etc it's a Thing. In this case, a cheeky reference to the Red Book of Hergest (Llyfr Coch Hergest). There are a few Red Books, but only Hergest has stories).

not a medieval thing but i did not expect one common theory among hobbits for the death of Frodo's parents to be A RUMORED MURDER-SUICIDE.

At the beginning of the book a few hobbits report seeing a moving elm tree up on the moors, heading west (thru or past the Shire). I mentioned this in another post, but another rule: if you see an elm tree, that's a Girl Tree. In Norse creation myth, the first people were carved from driftwood by the gods. Their names were Askr (Ash, as in the tree), the first man, and Embla (debated, but likely elm tree), the first woman. A lot of ppl have I think guessed that that was an ent-wife, but like. Literally that was a GIRL. TREE.

Medieval thing: I used to read the runes on the covers of The Hobbit and LOTR for fun when I worked in a bookshop. There's a mix of Old Norse (viking) and Old English runes in use, but all the ones I've noticed so far are real and readable if you know runes.

Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you once spent months of your life researching the early medieval art of galdor, which was the use of poems or songs to do a form of word-magic, often incorporating gibberish. If you think maybe Tolkien did not base the entirety of Fellowship so far around learning and using galdor and thus the power of words and stories, that is fine I cannot force you. He did personally translate "galdor" in Beowulf as "spell" (spell, amusingly, used to mean "story"). And also he named an elf Galdor. Like he very much did name an elf Galdor.

Tom Bombadil in fact does galdor from the moment we meet him. He arrives and fights the evil galdor (song) of the willow tree ("old gray willow-man, he's a mighty singer"), which is singing the hobbits to sleep and possibly eating them, with a galdor (song) of his own. Then he wanders off still singing, incorporating gibberish. I think it was at this point that I started clawing my face.

THEN Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you've read the description of the scop's songs in Beowulf (Beowulf again, but hey, Tolkien did famously a. translate it b. write a fanfiction about it called Sellic Spell where he gave Beowulf an arguably homoerotic Best Friend). The scop (pronounched shop) is a poet who sings about deeds on earth, but also by profession must know how to sing the song or tell the story of how the cosmos itself came to be. The wise-singer who knows the deep lore of the early universe is a standard trope in Old English literature, not just Beowulf! Anyway Tom Bombadil takes everyone home and tells them THE ENTIRE STORY OF ALL THE AGES OF THE EARTH BACKWARDS UNTIL JUST BEFORE THE MOMENT OF CREATION, THE BIG BANG ITSELF and then Frodo Baggins falls asleep.

Tom Bombadil knows about plate tectonics

This is sort of a lie, Tom Bombadil describes the oceans of old being in a different place, which works as a standard visual of Old English creation, which being Christian followed vaguely Genesis lines, and vaguely Christian Genesis involves a lot of water. TOLKIEN knew about plate tectonics though.

Actually I just checked whether Tolkien knew about plate tectonics because I know the advent of plate tectonics theory took forever bc people HATED it and Alfred Wegener suffered for like 50 years. So! actually while Tolkien was writing LOTR, the scientific community was literally still not sure plate tectonics existed. Tom Bombadil knew tho.

Remember that next time you (a geologist) are forced to look at the Middle Earth map.

I'm not even done with Tom Bombadil but I'm stopping here tonight. Plate tectonics got me. There's a great early (but almost high!) medieval treatise on cosmology and also volcanoes and i wonder if tolkien read it. oh my god. i'm going to bed.

edit: part II

[ikeuverse]

TO BELIEVE — s.jaeyun

PAIRING: ex!jake x fem!reader  GENRES: angst, smut, fluff WC: 15.4k+

WARNINGS: argument, swearing, mention of cheating, fights, brief description of a physical fight, unprotected sex (don't do it, do it safely), nipple play, cumming inside. lmk if i've forgotten anything.

SYNOPSIS: you have the mission of being godmother at your brother's wedding, but the only obstacle is sharing it with his best friend, and your ex-bf who you're sure cheated on you, jake sim.

NOTES: one of the many stories i have saved for my jake. it was supposed to be short, but i can't, i always get carried away writing it! i hope you enjoy it.

masterlist

“I don't believe it” you said, a sigh of weariness and discontent coming from your lips when your brother's voice informed you of this.

You had known that he and Josie would get married from the moment they got engaged in their last year of high school. Heeseung was completely in love with your best friend and you, being a great person, encouraged the two of them to get together. But what frustrated you wasn't the wedding itself, or the responsibility you had been given as a bridesmaid, but the fact that it would all be shared with Jake Sim, Josie's brother and, ironically, your ex-boyfriend.

It would be a blessing to have his friendship after the two of you broke up because, after all, both families would be united one way or another. But the break-up hadn't been pleasant at all and, after a year apart, any interaction between you and Jake was cause for friction. If you were in a cartoon, sparks would surely fly from the two of you every time you were in the same room.

“Come on Y/n, Jake is my best friend and Josie's brother” Heeseung sighed too, putting on a pout that almost had you convinced of the proposal “It was obvious that he would be best man with you at our wedding.”

Your brother was right and you knew it from the start. Since before you and Jake broke up. When Heeseung and Josie talked about marriage in college, saying that the two of you would be the best man because it was perfect that you were both also dating. A coincidence that life provided. Your best friend dating your brother and you dating your best friend's brother. But since things weren't that simple for you, only Josie was happy now.

“Can't you and she, I don't know, just have more than one best man?” your eyes wandered over to your brother who was trying to maintain a relaxed posture, his body slumped nonchalantly on the sofa at your parents' house. Where you and he got together every weekend for lunch or just to pass the time in your hectic lives without any contact during the week “I'd love to be a bridesmaid to Jungwon, for example.”

“He'll be one of the godparents, of course” Heeseung smiled at you, although his gaze was on the large television that was playing some program that your brother could barely pay attention to “But your mission and Jake's are much greater because, well… You'll be our witnesses.”

It was a more than important title. Witnessing their union from the beginning, seeing them sign the papers and then exchange vows, it was all so beautiful.

“That's not the problem” he sighed so loudly that it was only at that moment that Heeseung stopped staring at the television so that he could look in your direction “It's that I'm going to have to go after practically everything for you and Josie together with Jake.”

“A great opportunity for you two to talk and finally understand each other” he said without thinking, regretting it at the exact moment he felt a pillow fly at his head “Ouch! What the fuck, Y/n?”

“You're defending him again!”

“I'm just telling you to really listen to him” Heeseung protected himself from another pillow to the head, holding it in the air before you could even hit him “Jake wouldn't be able to do that. Even more so with you.”

Even more so with you. Why did your brother insist on defending Jake? As if you were dumb enough to have gone to meet him in the locker room before the friendly match and, unfortunately, found a bra in his locker that wasn't yours. You didn't even wear pink bows on the bulge, it was too cute. Only someone wore that kind of outfit, showing off to everyone who had the chance. So it was easy to associate Jake, the captain of the university soccer team, with the slutty cheerleader you grew to hate even more.

Both Heeseung and Josie were forbidden to talk about it, to defend Jake in your presence, or to make you talk to him after you decided to end it all. It could have been completely childish of you not to listen to him, to throw your bra at Jake and utter the last words you could, looking deep into those brown eyes you had once come to love.

“I hate that I loved you” Jake didn't think it would hurt more than the accusation of betrayal, even though he hadn't even had the chance to say anything. Your voice was like a deep cut, bigger than any injury he had once felt playing soccer.

After that day you saw Jake Sim as the biggest traitor in history and the person you had all the bad feelings for. Even if the words had to be a little more restrained in the presence of family or when you decided to omit all the bad things that happened, saying that the break-up was because you wanted to take a trip abroad. The trip happened, and spending almost eight months in Madrid was able to clear your head.

Being away from Jake and everything that involved him and your family – which was now his too – helped you to cope a little with the distance. But you came back so quickly with the news of your brother's wedding that the last few months since your arrival in Madrid have all ended in arguments, or you and Jake swearing at each other until you can't take it anymore.

You could say you felt physical pain just being in his presence because you knew it was inevitable that you wouldn't have a single argument. Did he feel entitled to feel resentful and hurt by something he had done? And did Jake get irritated by the way you got angry without even giving him a chance to explain properly? Jake would never do that, but your mind and your eyes told you otherwise. You didn't want to listen to him, you didn't want to live with him. Perhaps living in Madrid after your brother's wedding could be an almost real thought, although you would never be able to leave your family in the long term.

“Y/n” Heeseung called out, taking you out of your thoughts as he held your hand. The gentle, comforting touch that only your older brother could provide “I know this situation will always be bad for you and him, but—” he squeezed your hand lightly “Can you do this for me and Josie? Please?”

The pleading voice was an extremely low game that Heeseung played with you to get what he wanted, but at that moment you felt vulnerability. You felt that he really wanted you to accept because it went beyond anything between you and Jake. It wasn't on purpose that he and Josie had done this, after all, you and Jake were the brothers of the bride and groom anyway. You both had to be at that wedding one way or another.

Squeezing Heeseung's hands back, you let out a low sigh. Your eyes wandered over his face as you saw hope run through the boy's eyes. It didn't seem like he was older than you and about to get married.

“All right, I'll try” you said at last, watching Heeseung's smile widen even more.

“Thanks Y/n, you're the best sister in the world” he bent down to kiss your cheek, releasing your hands to get up from the sofa.

“I'm the only sister you've got, asshole. I have to be the best!” you protested.

Heeseung's laughter echoed down the corridor to the kitchen, where he had disappeared. Surely he was going after some dessert to share with you while jabbering on about some wedding details he hadn't stopped talking about for a second since you showed up.

Your break-up wasn't an entirely amicable affair between the two of you. Your mind and heart were convinced that Jake had cheated on you, although you had never seen him get so worked up trying to explain that it would never happen. His hands gripping his hair as he paced the room, stuttering or not finishing a sentence because you didn't want to hear it. Part of you knew that denial came because you didn't want to hear anything from him and have to go back on what you saw, but another part still kept the image of that pink bow bra inside his locker in the changing room vivid.

But for your family, the break-up had gone smoothly. You both agreed to make up some excuse, after all, you'd still have to deal with each other for the rest of your lives because now Heeseung and Josie were getting married. There was no way you could avoid Jake or he could avoid you. His closest friends knew what had happened, two of Jake's best friends besides Heeseung and Susan, your other best friend along with Josie. Even though your anger towards him still remained, you didn't want others to think the wrong thing about you and Jake. Sparing you explanations or embarrassment. Even sparing you from remembering that day.

Living in a small – and false – harmony while being close to your family or anyone else who didn't know what actually happened. That's why the two of you were together in the party store at that moment.

Being appointed best man was something Jake knew would happen, ever since Heeseung confessed that he was going to propose to Josie a month before they finished university. Jake didn't want to be selfish by seeing his best friend in love while he was on the brink of ruin because, in addition to breaking up with you, he had just learned that you were going to another country. Maybe that was a good thing after all. Having you away would help him think and even try to find some way to get you to listen to him. Jake wouldn't give up on making you listen to him, even if it took years, he would make you hear the whole truth.

Looking around with a small sigh, he returned to the present moment. Staring at some baskets that he couldn't tell the material of. Wicker, bamboo or straw? Were those ropes really woven together, one by one?

“What have you got on your list?” your voice snapped him out of his reverie and made Jake look quickly in your direction. Trying to concentrate on your serious face, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he looked down at his notes.

He reached for the piece of paper in the back pocket of his jeans, opening what was already all but crumpled. While you had a notebook between your fingers, he had a piece of paper.

Typical Jake Sim, he knew you'd say that out loud if you were still together. And if you were together, you'd roll your eyes playfully and walk over to him, pick up the piece of paper, and throw it away, because his notes would be in your notebook too. And that would make you lean over and kiss him on the lips ever so sweetly, mumbling something about how Jake was a bit disorganized about it and that Josie had the craziest big brother in the world.

“Jake” you called him, almost whispering.

“Sorry” he took a deep breath, trying to focus on what was happening. Rolling his eyes at the words Josie had said a few hours ago, he hastily jotted them down on the piece of paper he was holding “I have some fabrics she asked me for and about three types of flowers for the bouquet and table arrangements.”

“Really?” you walked over to him, leaning close enough to see the piece of paper. Jake held his breath for a few seconds so as not to inhale your perfume, but if he didn't breathe, he would surely die. Then you slowly let out your breath while looking at the top of your head “Do they both think we're ceremonialists?”

“Maybe so” Jake said quietly “but from what Josie said, it's because they both trust us so much that we chose this so carefully.”

They were words she would say. Trusting you and Jake to choose the small details without giving them into the hands of someone she's never seen. Even more so Josie, who had always planned her wedding down to the smallest detail since she was fifteen, back when she hadn't even dreamed of falling in love with Lee Heeseung.

“Which of these three do you think is Josie's favorite?” your eyes searched Jake's after reading the paper. At that moment, neither of you wanted to face each other with such intensity, so close together. But you didn't know that approaching him to read the list would result in being so close. Walking away abruptly at that moment would have been rude, although you had never cared whether it was like that or not with Jake.

He looked at you. Really looked. As he had done ever since he'd seen you for the first time, and it made you feel strange inside. You wanted to think that maybe it was the nervousness of being alone with him after such a long time, being assigned to tasks like being a bridesmaid.

“Dahlia?” he said.

“Was that a question?” you asked him back, raising an eyebrow when you saw the uncertainty in Jake's voice.

“Come on, she's your best friend.”

“And she's your sister.”

“So what?” Jake asked “I don't know what her favorite flower is, Y/n. I don't even know about flowers.”

A big lie, Jake understood. In parts. When the two of you started dating, he did a lot of research on the internet about flowers and their meanings, finding out about the orchid and what it represented. When he bought you your first bouquet of orchids, reciting why he had done it, that was when Jake saw you cry with joy and love for the first time since you two started dating.

And it was from that day on that you both called the orchid the flower of your relationship.

“Yes, you do” you whispered so that he wouldn't hear, you didn't want him to hear. For him to understand that you were thinking practically the same thing as him.

Having that moment of a few hours without a single argument was the result of many requests and practically an engaged couple begging you and Jake not to jump on each other for the sake of the wedding that was yet to take place. Josie knew you well enough to know your limits around Jake, just as she also knew how her brother would cope with being in your presence for so long. It had to be perfect, and it wouldn't be something from your and Jake's old relationship that would affect what she had always dreamed of.

“I'll find the decorations for the tables, can you see the flowers?” Jake just agreed with you as he continued down the aisle of baskets and trinkets for flower arrangements. Agreeing with what you were saying was something he had been practicing over the weeks as he was assigned to spend more time than necessary by your side.

Sometimes the two of you would go out with Heeseung and Josie, looking for things related to the wedding and everything that could be used for the big party. Jake saw how much Heeseung agreed with his fiancée and, with subtle comments, he managed to change her mind when she didn't agree with something. This could be the big key to why their relationship had worked so well from the start.

Where did I go wrong? Jake felt selfish for thinking so, knowing exactly where he went wrong. He didn't insist enough on a conversation, he didn't make you listen to him the way you should have and, as a result, almost a year went by with him being set up as a liar in your head. That's why he decided not to argue and just agreed when you asked or gave your opinion. He agreed with almost everything because he knew how good you were at decorating, not to mention the fact that he knew that you and Josie had talked about marriage for hours when you were still Jake's girlfriend. He remembers nights when he would play with Heeseung while the two of you watched dress fittings, giving your opinions on which one you would like to wear on the big day.

While his sister opted for more flashy things, with some stones and sparkles in the veil, you always chose the simple, strapless dress that accentuated the curves of your body and without too much lace because you didn't want something so big. This simplicity made Jake's eyes sparkle because he could clearly see you in a simple dress. Although all the beauty would turn to your face, no matter what you were wearing.

“Flowers, Jake. Focus on the flowers” he said to himself as he pushed a trolley through the aisles of the store. Memorizing the ones Josie had told him about as an option and going to where they all were.

He had to concentrate on that or he would go mad because there was no way not to have nostalgic thoughts when you were around without fighting with him. These moments were rare, but when they happened, Jake knew he wasn't the only one who thought like that.

Looking at the labels naming each flower, he wondered if it was really necessary. Whether Josie would be angry if he chose any of them instead of the three on that piece of paper because they were just flowers. A color that wasn't too flashy – the only thing Jake could think of was that his sister wanted everything in rosé and champagne tones – and the flowers could be light pink or white. If he got one of those colors, but it wasn't the one she wanted, would his sister be happy? He didn't want to risk that much, so he sighed heavily in search of a dahlia or any of the other two that were named.

Luckily, the white dahlias weren't that far away, and Jake managed to get just the right amount to show Josie and see if that was what she was going to take. Apart from taking a small bouquet, he would probably have to go back with Heeseung and pick up countless flowers just to put on the tables of so many guests he didn't even know his sister had invited.

Rolling his eyes at some of them, Jake gathered a good amount into a clumsy bouquet but organized enough to take to the cashier and pay. His eyes rolled over a few flowers until they stopped: the orchids. He didn't want his heart to race so much that he had to bite his lower lip to suppress a smile. Jake could go on for years without talking to you, but it would never leave his mind.

“You're an idiot, Jake Sim” he hated having the habit of talking to himself while he was in such an internal dilemma but taking just one orchid and hiding it under the bouquet of dahlias was necessary at that moment. He didn't know why he'd done it, but he knew he had to.

“Have you got the flowers yet?” your voice sounded a little louder than usual, at the exact moment when Jake put the flowers into the trolley and looked down the corridor in his direction. He just nodded, watching you approach with some things he couldn't even tell you what they were. Maybe not even you. But they were all named according to what the bride and groom wanted, so all was well and good.

“Do we need anything else?” Jake asked after you'd put everything in the trolley, not even bothering to check that the amount of flowers he'd picked up was correct. This made him sigh with relief, so he wouldn't have to explain why he'd picked up an orchid out of the blue.

“I think we got everything in this store” you said at last, turning away from Jake to look in your notebook and make sure you knew what you were talking about.

He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, run to Heeseung, and tell him what was going on. Or even ask his best friend to take his place on the next outing for the wedding stuff. Because if it went on like this, Jake didn't know if he could take it any longer.

The look on Josie's face could only indicate two things: either she was very nervous, or she had done something wrong. And considering that all the women were gathered in the living room of Mrs. Sim's house for the pre-wedding lingerie tea, maybe your friend was just nervous.

Looking at her for a while, you saw her say something to Susan and, when they both agreed on something before telling you, you could certainly suspect the second thought. This made your heart race because, if something had gone wrong, it was your job as godmother to fix it.

“What happened?” you quickly asked when the two of them approached, Susan looking around before glancing at you and then at Josie.

“Josie needs to tell you something” she said, and then you saw your sister-in-law and best friend open her mouth to say something, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted her.

Some women were arriving, Josie's friends from work, other family friends that Mrs. Sim and her mother had made a point of inviting. Everything would be very welcome if it meant getting things from people before her wedding, after all, Josie wouldn't deny any gifts. She also called some friends from college, and for some reason, your mind clicked so far ahead that you only realized what was happening when you saw her walk through the door.

Your stomach did such a somersault that you almost threw up the lunch you'd eaten with Susan before getting things ready for Josie at her mother's house. You thought the last time you'd see Stacy Joseph, the owner of the pink bow bra, would be in that hallway where you threw it at her and nearly broke her nose when you went to make amends. The last contact between the two of you was with Susan standing between you and her after you punched her in the nose, watching her bleed while you told her to swallow that stupid fabric. After that, you never saw her around the college campus, near anyone you knew or, worse, near Jake.

“Y/n, I—”

“Girls!” even her voice made you nauseous, and you wanted to ask yourself over and over again why Jake had chosen Stacy Joseph to be the pivot of the break-up and the reason for the betrayal between the two of you.

You remained silent the whole time she entered the house, left the gift package in the middle of the living room, and walked in the direction the three of you were heading. As a little dejavú, Susan stood next to you, almost between the two of you when Stacy got close enough to greet Josie.

“I'm so happy you're getting married, that's so cool” she hugged Josie so tightly, that you wanted to rip her out of her best friend's arms.

“Thank you for coming” she just replied, letting go of the hug and looking straight at you.

Stacy didn't say your name or Susan's, but the cordiality meant that she just nodded at you both in mute greeting.

“Y/n” Josie called your name, but your head was spinning and you looked like you were going to throw up. Her voice lingered in the back of your mind as you broke away from your friends and ran to Mrs. Sim's kitchen.

This couldn't be happening, not to you. For almost a year you had managed to forget what her face looked like, her voice, and even her presence, focusing your anger only on Jake because he was the only one you were around all the time. Now seeing her in front of you again, being invited to your sister-in-law's pre-wedding party… No, that was too much for you.

“Look Y/n, listen to me” Josie entered the kitchen, followed by Susan who looked at the two of you and then towards the entrance to the room, fearing that Stacy might follow them and, who knows, start an unnecessary argument “I heard she was coming a few hours ago, and it was because of your brother!”

“What do you mean?” you didn't want to look at her now, you didn't want to show how much this affected you. So your gaze went to the counter where your mother had placed drinks to be served when all the women had arrived. You didn't mind opening a bottle with the highest proof, grabbing a glass, and filling it halfway before downing it. “Shit.”

“Y/n” Josie was on the other side of the counter, right in front of you. Susan was next to her, looking at you too. “She started dating Haechan a few months ago, and since Heeseung invited him because he was on the soccer team… He asked if he could invite his girlfriend and—” she took a deep breath, feeling her eyes burn at how shaken you had been. When you filled the glass for the second time, Josie quickly took it and drank, just like you had done a few seconds before, feeling the burning sensation go down your throat. “Haechan didn't say her name or anything, otherwise I would have made an excuse.”

“No” you quickly said. “It's okay, it's just—”

“Besides, Jake didn't even cheat on you, but you don't want to hear that right now” Susan took the glass from Josie's hand, looking in your direction with a raised eyebrow. You felt your whole body ache just thinking about starting that debate again, how tired and upset you were to see your best friends siding with a traitor like Jake. No one had seen what you saw in his locker, so why not believe you?

“We found you three” Mrs. Sim entered the kitchen with an unusual excitement. She smiled at the three of you and didn’t notice the strange atmosphere that was there before she arrived “Have you gone to taste our drinks yet?” she laughed when she saw the glass in Josie’s hand and the open bottle in front of you. Your mother came in right after with one of her arms linked through Jake’s. And that’s when your legs went completely weak.

“What are you doing here, honey? It’s a women-only party” Mrs. Sim said as soon as she saw her son enter the kitchen with your mother. She seemed to be babbling about something he hadn’t even heard yet.

“I came to get my wallet and car keys” Jake said, but his gaze was on you the whole time. You felt that he was, even though you had looked away so as not to look at him at that moment.

“Then you can leave, there will only be women’s talk here” your mother let go of his arm for a second, “Things about panties, drinks, bras, and stuff.”

She and your mother laughed, you saw Josie’s smile slowly appear, as she searched for your gaze.

“About bras? Then Jake can stay” you murmured, “He loves that.”

Oh, no. It had been too long since the two of you had had an argument since the wedding preparations began. You looked up at him, seeing that Jake seemed unreadable with that expression. He had definitely seen Stacy in the living room because your mother was there welcoming people, so he must have seen her. Or worse, he must have heard Haechan talking about her when he arrived for the boys' party that was happening simultaneously at your house at that moment.

“I love bras? Is that what you're saying?” Jake scoffed, the sound making your whole body shiver. Josie and Susan looked at the situation nervously, trying to predict the next moves to try to intervene since your mothers were there. It would be the first argument in front of them.

“Of course” you smiled falsely, “With pink bows and everything.”

The sound around happened naturally, people talking loudly and walking from one side to the other. In the other room, it was easy to hear the laughter of the women who were eager to start the party. Your mother and Jake's mother picked up some bottles, paying attention to the two of you who were standing there staring at each other. While Josie, surreptitiously, walked to her brother's side to try to get him out of there.

“I hate bras” Jake made a small face when his sister approached “You must know that Y/n, because I took yours off every day.”

“Holy shit” Susan almost choked on her own saliva as she held back a laugh, even though the mood wasn't conducive to it. But your face was priceless because no one expected that answer from Jake. Not even you.

“What?” your mother looked at you two, astonished, although she didn’t need to explain to anyone what happened in a relationship. Even more so for as long as it had lasted with you and Jake. You two were adults, above all, and no one would interfere in that.

“Sorry” Jake quickly said, feeling Josie’s hand on his shoulders, gently pushing him out of the kitchen. “Have a good party, girls. See you later!” he felt his cheeks burning, even though he had given you a good answer, it was still in the presence of your mother and his mother, so Jake acted on total impulse.

Of course, he was nervous and scared when he saw Stacy in the living room of his mother’s house. He knew Haechan was dating someone, but no one knew who she was until she showed up. Jake knew he had a lot to tell Heeseung as soon as he got to his house for the boys’ party, but that didn’t stop his mind from wandering to the moment the two of you had in the kitchen. If Jake thought that this marriage would be peaceful, even with the problems, now he had just felt that it wasn't.

Three days until the wedding, where Josie and Heeseung would exchange vows, celebrate, and finally become part of the same family. She was so happy to know that her wishes were coming true, especially with someone like Heeseung. Who had always taken care of her since the first moment they were together. So planning and executing every little thing of that party didn't become a tiring job because, in the end, it made up for the joy of both of them.

And that was why you tried to ignore the discomfort in your chest every time you were around Jake – more than usual – after the meeting between the two of you at his parents' house. A whole week passed after that and you tried not to be around him alone for so long, even though you had to hurry to try on the dresses that your sister-in-law had set aside for the bridesmaid.

Going to the wedding dress store had to be a task done by you and Jake, together. But after that, you wanted to avoid him as much as he was trying to avoid you too. So you left your apartment without waiting for his ride, which was happening in the last few moments of every place you two went together. You went into the store and gave the bride's name, saying that there were some spares for you to try on in the color Josie had designated for you. The saleswoman, smiling and attentive, took you to the changing room so you could try it on and see how it would look on your body.

Being covered in a chic, pink, almost silk dress made you feel beautiful and desired. You knew Josie had that kind of taste. It was easy to trust her taste in clothes, but it wouldn't be an effort to try them on just to make her happy. Maybe you would keep the first one you put on anyway, but since there were five more on the hangers, you would need to put each one on. That way you could tell her why you had chosen one over the other.

“This way, Mr. Jake” the voice of the same saleswoman called down the hallway and you quickly straightened up, adjusting the second dress on your body when you heard footsteps walking in front of your door.

You ran to it and unlocked it, on impulse, just as the saleswoman was opening the door to the dressing room across from yours.

"Y/n? Are you here yet?" Jake was startled when he looked at you, but his eyes softened enough for him to make eye contact for a few seconds. You just nodded, looking away at the saleswoman.

“So you two are Josie and Heeseung’s godparents?” she asked.

“Yes” you and Jake said at the same time, her smile widening.

“Perfect” you said slowly. “Mr. Jake, your suits are in there as requested, and Ms. Y/n, did the dresses look good?”

“I’m still trying on the second one” you opened the door a little wider to show her. It wasn’t the silk of the first dress, but the lace and rhinestone trim gave a perfect glimpse of the curves of your hips. The saleswoman had a fond smile on her face, complimenting how beautiful you looked.

“It really does look beautiful” Jake blurted out, taking you and the saleswoman out of the small conversation you had both been having. Only then did he notice that the three of you were still standing in the hallway and that you were still wearing one of the dresses.

Your voice didn’t come out as a thank you, but you walked back into the dressing room and closed the door behind you before saying anything to him. Leaning your back against the cold wood and trying to normalize your heartbeat. Why did he have to say that as if nothing was happening?

In the time that followed, you tried to focus your attention on the other dresses and how the colors Josie had chosen were flattering to your skin tone and the color of your eyes. You felt more and more beautiful in each piece that slid over your body, the reflection in the mirror pleasing you more and more, making it practically impossible to choose a single piece that you could definitely choose. Going to the last dress, then, you decided to take off the one you were wearing and slide the fabric over your body.

Another silk, this time a little thinner, but not enough to be transparent. This one could have been designed for you because Josie knew you didn't want anything so flashy. You smiled to yourself after putting on the dress, turning your back to do up the zipper that was the only lock on the piece.

“Shit,” you grumbled when you saw it get stuck right at the beginning. “No, no, no…” despair began to take over your body. You couldn’t take off that dress or pull up the zipper and risk ripping something so expensive. Your mind raced to call the saleswoman quickly. She would be the only one who could help you with that zipper and would even be a good company to give advice to others who had doubts.

So yes, that’s what you would do. Holding the front of the dress with the straps hanging loosely on your shoulders, you walked to the door and unlocked it. Only sticking your head out and looking for the saleswoman. Not a soul passed by that hallway and you started to get a little scared because the only sound was footsteps coming from downstairs, where people were walking back and forth through the store.

The only sound that took you away from your thoughts of taking off your dress and giving up on trying it on was the click of the lock on the door in front of you. Jake had messy hair, adjusting his fly and the first four buttons of his white shirt open.

“Y/n?” he called you, finishing closing the zipper and running a hand through his hair to try to fix it a little. “I heard your door opening and I thought you were leaving, but— Are you okay?” he looked at you as soon as he stopped talking.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, admiring how handsome he looked even in that sloppy and unkempt way. You imagined how clumsy Jake was with formal and elegant clothes, especially since you were the one helping him with the tie knots since you had to learn because of Heeseung and your father.

“I think…” you sighed, not wanting to say it out loud. He almost scolded himself for knowing you so well and knowing that something was wrong, so he walked the few steps from his door to yours, stopping in front of you “I think my dress zipper got stuck.”

“Do you need help?” he asked. You nodded slowly and, without saying anything else, let him enter your dressing room and closed the door right after.

Jake could see how organized you were even with a larger amount of dresses than he had to try on pants and shirts. Everything was perfectly folded, some even already hanging on the hangers while the pants he tried on were on the floor and only the blazers were on the hanger because he couldn’t find a single one that he thought looked nice on him.

“Okay, what do I need to do?” he turned towards you, noticing the way you were holding the front of your dress for dear life.

“Can you try to pull up the zipper? Otherwise, we can call the saleswoman” you turned your back to him and Jake had to hold his breath a little. The amount of skin was too much for him to see, even though it wasn't an unfamiliar sight for him. But after so long having this kind of contact was something Jake wasn't expecting.

“Okay, okay,” he said more to himself, walking towards you when you threw all your hair to the side, leaving your back completely bare to him.

Jake’s fingers trembled uselessly when the tip of his index finger and thumb touched the zipper. Nothing more than that, because he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

“It’s not going to happen,” he said after forcing it a little, the zipper not moving.

“Try again, please” you asked. “This dress is perfect and I think your sister chose it because maybe it suits me better than the others.”

He didn’t want to admit that yes, that dress was perfect on you. Even if you weren’t dressed properly and you still had to close the zipper to see the final result, Jake didn’t need that to compliment you or find you beautiful in any outfit. Taking another step forward, Jake thought he could dare and listen to his instincts, or he simply wouldn’t have a chance of doing that anymore. So he muted any other voice in his head and listened only to what his heart was telling him to do. With his free hand, Jake grabbed your waist under the thin fabric of your dress. He had touched your skin before under some silk that you had worn during the years of your relationship, but nothing compared to the dress you were wearing now.

You tried to hold back any sound that might come out of your mouth as his hand slowly squeezed your hip, while the other tried to pull up the zipper of your dress. Jake seemed focused on that action that bent over enough for his breath to hit the back of your neck. His eyes traveled up the length of your back and saw your skin crawl with that simple gesture.

So he still had some effect on you.

It was too much information for him to process. Jake affects your body, the closeness of the two of you, and the even heavier atmosphere between you after Stacy's arrival. It was too much for him to process. Jake could never do anything rational under pressure, so he knew it would have a drastic consequence, he wouldn't stop trying.

Turning your body and pressing it against his chest, you didn't have a chance to swear at him. There was not even time to speak a single syllable when Jake's lips quickly sought yours. It was like an act of returning home, where he already knew the way and only needed those few seconds to have his lips on yours.

If Jake was being irrational about the whole thing, you weren't going to be the only thinking person or get in the way of what was happening. Part of you wanted it, although the other part of you disagreed with having the tip of Jake's tongue poking at your lower lip. With a low moan, you gave way and that was all he needed. To tangle his tongue in yours, to taste you in his mouth again while his hands ran down your hips and gripped your body as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it did because to go a whole time like that without feeling his lips, without sliding your teeth across his bottom lip or having your hands wrapped in his hair. Your body pressed against his while you moaned low against his mouth every time the kiss intensified. Jake missed that as much as you did. And seeing how intensely you were giving yourself to him was more than an answer to what he needed.

Walking towards the nearest table, careful not to ruin his clothes on the way, Jake leaned you against the wood without interrupting the kiss in the process. He didn't want to pull his mouth away from yours and even though you both needed air, he wanted to be able to breathe the air from your mouth if at all possible. His hands, still on your waist, slid all over your back, still uncovered by the fabric that wouldn't close at all. Thanks for the stuck zipper, he thought, running his hand up your spine until he tangled the fabric of the dress between his fingers.

Jake's mouth parted from yours just then, his forehead still pressed against yours and his eyes slowly opening to search for yours. A silent request as to whether he could go on with it or whether you were sorry and wanted him to leave the room.

Your hands found his and as if to help him, you pulled the loose fabric down your body, revealing your chest as all the silk bunched around your hips. His eyes shone brightly. Jake could tell it had all been worth it just from that sight. Your hands found his hair and he slid his lips down your neck as you spread your legs, beckoning him to snuggle in.

Jake ran his hands up the sides of your body, his thumbs finding your erect nipples and putting a fair amount of pressure there, just as his lips found your earlobe.

“Jake” you moaned his name, and that sound he missed so much. How slyly you used to moan his name.

“Yeah, baby?” he whispered against your skin, his hands gripping your breast a little more firmly before he released his lips from your neck and moved down to your collarbone.

Your voice gradually died away as Jake's mouth descended your skin in slow, wet kisses, his tongue tracing a teasing path down the middle of your breast. His breathing made a point of getting heavy with every line of saliva he left against your skin, the heat building there and intensifying between your legs.

“Fuck” you moaned as his tongue flicked across your nipple, the tip circling a few times before he took it all in his mouth. Sucking and making it even more sensitive with every warm touch of his tongue and the light scrape of his teeth on it. Jake's attention took turns on each of your breasts, leaving enough of a mark for you to remember him when you got dressed for the wedding a few days later. Or when you came home to take a shower, looking at your chest and the amount of hickeys he was leaving.

You arched your back and, with some difficulty, pulled the rest of your dress down to your feet to get rid of the fabric that was now bothering you so much. The amount of clothing was unbearable for you as Jake settled further between your legs, still sucking on your nipples.

“Jake, please” you practically begged him as he looked more and more hungry with his mouth on your nipple. Circling his tongue and letting go with a low, teasing pop, raising his face to meet yours.

“Do you want it as much as I do?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low, his lips red and shiny from the amount of saliva that had been smeared across your breast.

“I want it, very much” if he kept teasing you, you'd be pathetic enough to cry out for him and ask him to fuck you right there.

Fortunately Jake understood you so well and you knew he couldn't stand teasing you for so long, even more so with the hunger and thirst he'd been teasing and kissing you with minutes ago. He didn't want to waste any time, lifting his shirt over his head without bothering to remove the buttons, the zipper of his pants came down in seconds and he quickly removed the fabric along with his underwear. Jake didn't want to wait any longer.

He went back between your legs, sliding his hands up and down your thighs. Caressing the soft skin he had felt for so long. Nostalgia washed over him with every touch, going down to your hips to grab the fabric of your panties, throwing them on the floor as quickly as he did his clothes.

“Y/n, we—” you kissed his lips, not letting him finish saying anything. You knew Jake would explain himself, say something to try and comfort you from what you'd felt for so long. But the heat of the moment demanded that he just be inside you. And that's what you did. Holding his cock and pumping slowly, you heard Jake moan against your lips, his brow furrowed as you rubbed the head of his cock against your pussy lips to gather the perfect amount of your juices.

Jake arched his hips against your hand, feeling his cock get wet with the union of your arousal and his pre-cum, without having to worry about preparing you or anything. It was also because of the rush you were both in to feel each other, but he wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you, and the way you were calmly taking it all in was driving Jake crazy.

“I don't want to hurt you” he whispered when you stopped teasing him and stopped rubbing the head of his cock all over your pussy. Jake's cock was already wet enough and you were already more than lubricated, he wasn't going to hurt you.

“You won't hurt me, I promise” you whispered with your lips close to his, without kissing him, waiting for Jake to take the next step between the two of you.

As if it were a communication just by looking, as soon as Jake leaned his forehead against yours, he understood that it had to be done. So you thrust your hips slowly, feeling your entrance suck the head of his cock. Just the tip penetrating you was enough to make you moan, pressing your lips against Jake's and bending your body over the table. He wrapped his arms around you, gripping your body between his arms, afraid that you would run away at that moment. Afraid that everything you were both experiencing would be thrown away and that maybe it was Jake's dream, where he dozed off in the fitting room opposite yours, idealizing what was happening.

But no, it was all real. He was slowly penetrating you, gripping your body between his arms and feeling your arms around his neck, as if you needed to steady yourself just by hugging him.

Reaching the bottom, with his cock completely inside you, Jake didn't let go of your embrace. He moved his hips slowly, withdrawing his cock and leaving just the tip inside you, only to return slowly and intensely until his cock was inside your pussy. The movement of your hips became constant, and the sound of the moans that the two of you shared in whispers gave the moment even more intensity. Jake was careful not to go too fast and hard because the way you squeezed his cock showed how sensitive your pussy was to receiving him back.

“You don't know…” Jake sucked a moan from your mouth, pressing his forehead to yours when a particularly intense movement hit you, making the head of his cock touch your spongy spot and your walls tighten around it. Jake could have sworn he was going to come right then and there, but he had to stop himself, he didn't want to finish yet “You don't know how much I've missed this… How much I've missed you.”

Your fingernails scratched Jake's shoulder blades, making the thrust forceful as his skin burned a little. You bit his lower lip, stopping yourself from moaning loudly so that the whole store could hear the two of you. Your legs wrapped even tighter around Jake's moving hips, giving him no room to pull away for even a second.

“I've missed you, Jake” your hips were now moving along with his, but slowly, while Jake was intensifying his thrusts, wanting you to feel every moment of his cock moving in and out of you. Withdrawing his cock slowly and putting it back in just as slowly, going hard only at the end so that the head of his cock touched your cervix or you felt every rise in your walls with his size “I've missed you so much.”

Jake could cum with the intensity of your gaze, your fucked-up expression, and how you moaned his name as you said those things. He knew that anything you did while he had his cock buried in you was a reason for him to come, and he didn't want to hold back any longer.

With a silent request, Jake kissed your lips and moved his hands down between your bodies in the small space you left between the two of you. His fingers soon found your clitoris and he circled it at the same speed as his cock moved in and out of you.

You could see stars with the double sensation, your body writhing between Jake's arms as his thrusts began to pick up speed. He was close to cumming and you weren't much different, you knew him well enough for that. You both knew each other's bodies that well.

“I need you to cum with me, please” Jake asked against your lips, his cock driving in a little harder, along with his fingers circling your clit a little faster.

Without the strength to say anything, you just agreed and continued to move your hips so that you were in sync with Jake and what he was doing. Your hands grabbed his hair, keeping Jake's mouth close enough to yours and catching his tongue between your lips. Sucking on his tongue with the same intensity as your pussy swallowed his cock was divine, Jake was losing count of how many times he came with this sensation. Being swallowed by your pussy and your mouth sucking his tongue just like you used to suck his cock.

He could hear you moaning his name in a muffled way, your lips around the tip of his tongue and your pussy swallowing more and more of him. A precise circle on your clit along with his cock moving in and out was enough to make the knot in your stomach burst. Your pussy convulsed, and your walls fluttered around his entire length, cumming all over Jake's cock. The heat of your pussy, the oozing of your cum, and the way you moaned his name over and over were too much for him to bear, and not a second later Jake's jets of hot, thick cum spurted into your pussy.

His thrusts became more and more erratic and sloppy as he still came inside your completely fucked pussy, pushing his cum that threatened to fall out of your hole by the amount he had cum in so long. You were still sensitive and the overstimulation wasn't bad, although you felt like crying at the way Jake still kept his cock in you, moving in and out until your pussy milked the last drop out of him.

Jake rested his hands on either side of your body, next to your hips on the table. With his cock still inside you and his body still between your legs. He opened his eyes slowly to find your face calm and serene, your expression a little more relaxed than before.

“Jake…” you whispered, not wanting him to pull away from you.

“Yes?” he said in the same tone, one of his hands coming up to push your hair out of your face. He shifted his gaze down your body, the sheen of the light layer of sweat forming against your skin, your hips still joined without the strength to separate. The skin of his chest covered by the marks of his mouth made him smile with satisfaction at his work.

“Can we stay like this for a few minutes?” your request made his heart race, even though it had been racing since the first second you two kissed in that fitting room.

“As long as you want” he moved a little closer, giving you a small kiss on the forehead before placing his forehead against yours. Not wanting to leave your side even after the post-orgasm sensation had passed.

The rest of the days passed like a blur, and not because you or Jake were avoiding each other after what happened. But because time got too short it seemed like more things were happening until the big day. You and he didn't seem to mind each other's presence while you had to sort things out, the tiredness of the final preparations giving way to each other's bodies while all you could think about was getting it over with.

You could breathe a sigh of relief after walking in with Jake at Josie and Heeseung's wedding, listening to the whole ceremony in silence and admiration. Smiling at the vows of the two newlyweds and holding back the tears that threatened to fall. Finally, it was over and you could proudly say that you had been a great godmother. That your brother and sister-in-law had been right to appoint you and Jake to that role.

Now, enjoying the post-wedding party was the only thing on your mind. The glass was freshly filled with booze for the fourth time, the empty hand resting on Susan's shoulder as she hugged Josie's waist, humming the song that was playing throughout the huge hall. This is what you three thought it would be like. Drunk, happy, and laughing as you remember how you met. The time you shared and how much your friendship meant to each other.

“Even though Y/n is my sister-in-law now” Josie swallowed a drunken sob, smiling as she pulled you into a hug with Susan “you two will always be my heart sisters.”

“Is that supposed to make us sentimental?” Susan asked.

“Is it working?” Josie retorted.

It might work because you all already had a fair amount of alcohol in your system, considering how long you'd been here after the ceremony. You still spent time with Heeseung, congratulating your brother and warning him to take good care of Josie. Although he was your brother, your brotherhood with her was strong enough for you to take her away from their house, which hadn't even been furnished yet. With Susan's help, the two of you would take Josie away without a second thought in case Heeseung did something to her. Even though you knew it would never happen.

After a few minutes of exchanging warm, sentimental words, laughing until your belly ached, and refilling your glasses, the three of you broke away from the hugs to go around the party in search of something different for the next few minutes before meeting up again. Josie would go after Heeseung or your mother because she wanted to talk to her new daughter-in-law. Susan would go after Sunghoon, for sure. She missed her boyfriend, who would probably be hanging around the party clutching Heeseung's tie and collecting funny nicknames for the newlywed. Your mind immediately wandered to Jake, thinking that you could go after him and just talk about what happened, maybe. But your feet were killing you enough that you didn't even consider the idea of going out, so you walked over to the nearest table to sit down.

“Can I join you?” your gaze lifted to the person in front of you, smiling when you noticed Haechan's presence.

“Sure, join me” he smiled back at you, taking off his blazer and putting it on the back of his chair before sitting down. You could tell by the lazy sound that came from his lips how exhausted he looked.

“Getting around with your brother and Sunghoon wasn't an easy task” he grumbled, his fingers lightly massaging his left temple as he looked around. Looking for one of his friends or even his girlfriend.

“Are they giving you much trouble?” you asked.

“Enough that Sunghoon and Jake made him almost undress three times” Haechan said, making you laugh.

“Hey, I didn't do anything like that!” the defense in Jake's voice took you by surprise, and both you and Haechan looked in the direction of the slowly approaching voice. At the beginning of the party, Jake looked impeccable. His hair, which he had let grow – because Josie had asked him to, wanting his brother to have an impeccable hairstyle for her wedding – had been slicked back with a little gel, and was now disheveled and messy. The first two buttons of his shirt were open and Jake's tie was completely loosened, but still around his neck. The typical scene of how relaxed he was, but not to the point of getting drunk like you were starting to.

“You'll have to fight with your sister if her husband gets naked in front of everyone” Haechan defended, having his train of thought interrupted by him making Jake laugh. The sound of laughter calmed every cell in your body.

You noticed that he was a little more relaxed, smiling at some of the things Haechan said to him while you switched off a little. Your focus was now on the heel you were trying to take off and how much your feet might scream if they could talk. Without much delay, you unbuckled your heels and took them off, leaving them in a corner under your chair.

“But seriously, this wedding is just the way you two wanted it, isn't it?” your attention returned to the two boys talking right in front of you. Jake slyly pulled out a chair to sit next to you and his gaze ran down to where you were futilely trying to massage your feet.

“In every detail” he smiled at Haechan “Heeseung tries to deny that it was all my sister's doing, but we know he wanted it that way too” seeing how much Jake knew your brother was very gratifying, to know that someone understood him as much as you did.

At some point in the conversation, you found yourself looking between the two of them as they talked about how nice it was to be friends with Heeseung. At the time in college when Haechan wanted to join the soccer team and almost didn't get accepted because he had missed the time to introduce himself to the boys. Jake had his full attention on him, listening to every word while his hands thought differently, running down your calf until they caught your ankle. Without saying a word to you and without looking in your direction, he picked up your foot and placed it on his lap. The fingers lightly squeezing the sole of your foot almost made you moan at how good it felt, how much you needed that silent massage from Jake.

“One relationship I also admire is the two of you” Haechan pointed at you and Jake. Your eyes quickly met his for a split second, Jake's fingers stopped just as Haechan smiled, and then he went back to massaging your feet.

“Why?” Jake asked for you, knowing that his concentration was on the pain that was leaving, and how his body was slightly tense from the question.

“Because even after you broke up, you two carried on as friends” Haechan sounded dreamy as he said that little bit of admiration, even if it wasn't true. That the image you and Jake passed on to your friends was false, because you and he weren't friends, you never were. The war footing you two were on was hell on earth and neither of you knew how you were surviving until the present moment “I don't know if I'd be able to be friends with Stacy if the two of us broke up.”

There was a brief pause when Haechan spotted one of his friends with two glasses in his hand. He asked for one, even though the guy wasn't a waiter, but he smiled and handed it to him, asking if you and Jake wanted one too. Denying it and thanking you both, Jake smiled at him and let Haechan take a good sip of his drink.

“How long have you and Stacy been together?” Jake asked, not knowing the origin or the reason for all this. Maybe it was to get away from the attention his friend had given to your relationship, but he just wanted to deflect it and do everything he could to keep you away from him.

“Since college” he replied, taking another sip of his drink “our relationship is a little crazy.”

Jake knew you were looking at him at that moment, he could feel the weight of your gaze almost smoking on the back of his neck while his gaze was on Haechan.

“Tell me about it, I never knew” Jake prodded.

You didn't know why he was doing it. Whether it was to torture you for talking about Stacy so freely in front of him or whether he wanted to talk to Haechan, who barely knew that you had almost broken his girlfriend's nose in college.

“Well, we started going out after a fraternity party, it wasn't anything serious at first” he shrugged, the unfinished drink in his glass now playing between his fingers and a small smile on his lips.

Haechan talked about his and Stacy's relationship carefully, as if the image she had made of herself to him was a version you had never met. But then your ears perked up a little more when he got to a particular moment in the story.

“Dude, I… Y/n, do you mind if I say that?” Haechan looked at you, noticing that the story was taking a turn that only boys could be interested in.

“Not at all” you tried to smile at him, almost grimacing at the way it had come out “I'm just focusing on my massage” you pointed downwards where Jake's hands were still occasionally squeezing your feet. He laughed and continued, looking at Jake this time.

“I went crazy when we started dating because Oliver talked about Stacy's fame and for the first few weeks I wanted to prove whether it was true or not.”

Stacy's fame in college was her cute lingerie, the famous – and hated by you – pink bow bra. It wasn't necessarily fame because she made a point of showing part of her bra with a tank top during training and it had even been proven by those who slept with her. It wouldn't be a fame if they already had proof.

“When I saw it, I made a point of… spicing up our relationship at the beginning, to prove that she wanted it and that it wasn't the same with everyone.”

“And how did you get her to prove it?” Jake asked Haechan.

“Oh, you know” he leaned back in his chair, stretching as much as he could and almost yawning, but he wasn't sleepy enough for that “I asked her to leave a bra in my closet on the day of the game.”

Jake was the first to make eye contact with you as if he'd expected that answer or any reaction to it. Your eyes sought his and, a few seconds later, you looked at Haechan.

“What day was that?” you asked “I mean… what game?”

“The last friendly we had against the University of the South” he looked nostalgic as he recalled one of the last games he'd played in a university shirt “I told her to leave it in my locker and then we'd celebrate under the shower, you know.”

You didn't know what it was like because you were disgusted to do anything in the university's men's locker room, but that didn't stop you from finding Jake and going home with him to celebrate. That's how you ended up in the locker room on that fateful day.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Haechan asked after a while. He was still talking to Jake about something you didn't even know you wanted to hear right now, your mind was racing. If Stacy had done that in Jake's locker, what story had she told Haechan to make him think he was the only one who had received a pink bow bra in his locker?

“Excuse me” you asked, taking your feet off Jake's lap so quickly that he didn't even have time to hold you or ask where you were going.

A lot of questions were running through your mind at that moment, for example, how Stacy was managing to cope with a lie that she maintained even after the encounter you two had? Even after you hit her and cursed at her even though she was dating Haechan after everything. While you maintained that Jake was the liar in all this, the big liar was there all along.

You didn't know what you were doing, but the next thing you knew, your feet were leading you in the direction where Stacy was. Near the bar and away from the many people at the party, she was chatting with Susan and Sunghoon as if she had been friends with them for years. Although you knew that your friend and her boyfriend were very polite, you didn't like the closeness she was trying to force.

“Hey, Y/n” Sunghoon was the first to see you coming, his smile showing the fangs that you heard Susan sigh almost all the time. He waved at you without a response, only to see you advance towards Stacy as soon as you got close enough.

“You slut!” your hands grabbed the fabric of her dress, almost tearing it with how hard you were squeezing.

“Let me go, you're hurting me” she whimpered, feeling your nails dig a little deeper into her skin as you gripped her dress even tighter.

“So you've been lying all this time, have you?” you pushed her away when you felt Susan's hands pulling at you, wanting to push you away from Stacy, but unable to put that much force into your actions. She was drunk enough not to be able to separate you as she normally did. Then she looked in Sunghoon's direction, searching for some kind of help.

“Lied about what?” she asked.

“Don’t play dumb!” you yelled, but your voice couldn’t be heard the way you wanted to by the people around you, only Stacy and Susan were able to hear how loud you were talking because of how close you were. “That day at the game, Jake’s locker. Tell the truth, you slut—”

Sometimes you had the slight impression that your brother arrived at the worst times, like in a suspenseful scene from your favorite series, or when you and your mother wanted to listen to the neighbors’ fights and Heeseung slammed the door right when one of them told you something very important. And like now, when you were about to live the nostalgic moment of punching Stacy right in the nose, but your brother’s hands were quick enough to grab you and pull you away from her.

“What’s going on?” he asked, standing between the two of you and facing you “Hey, sis, look at me.”

“Let me go or I’ll finish her off.”

“You’re not going anywhere” Heeseung said. His eyes searched for something behind you and when he found it, you didn’t even need to turn around to know that Sunghoon had gone after Jake and Josie.

“What’s going on here? Are you okay?” Josie asked as she looked at Heeseung and you, but when her eyes landed on Stacy, some of her sobriety returned. She knew that this could happen at the party and was already preparing for some argument between the two of you, she just didn’t know it would be practically halfway through the night.

“I… I was at the bar talking to Susan and Sunghoon when Y/n arrived and—”

“Oh, for God's sake, stop your shitty little act” you snapped, almost advancing on her if it weren’t for Heeseung’s strength still holding you in place. Your brother didn’t move an inch until Jake took his place, standing in front of you and holding you. On another occasion, you would be cursing him and not wanting Jake to touch you, but seeing him there at that moment seemed to make all the difference.

“Stacy, love, what’s going on here?” when she heard Haechan’s voice, Stacy seemed to freeze in place. She looked at him with wide eyes and rapid breathing, perhaps even more than before when the two of you almost argued.

She found herself between a rock and a hard place now, maintaining that lie was no longer hers and she knew that sooner or later it should have been said. Stacy just didn’t know why it had taken so long.

“I… I think I did something wrong and…” you couldn’t swallow her fake crying and the sobs that threatened to come out of the girl’s lips who, with the help of her boyfriend, took a step forward to tell the whole story to your friends.

Hearing all of that from the point of view of the one who had caused you the most pain only made your blood boil even more. You – and the entire campus – knew how much Stacy always bragged about getting with every guy she wanted, with only Heeseung and Sunghoon being the only ones under the radar, she wanted to be content with that. But when she found out that Jake, besides being on the soccer team, was coveted for dating the team captain's sister… Oh, she wanted him. It was impossible to get him, but she would do anything to try anything and get with Jake at least one thing. It was then that she had the brilliant idea of ​​replicating Haechan's wish.

The friendly match against the southern university was packed, with everyone on campus stopping to watch the match and cheer for the team. You and your friends weren't much different, wanting to see the boys and supporting them at all costs. Unfortunately, Stacy heard how lovingly you told Jake that you would wait for him after the game in the locker room to get his things and go home.

“Can you get my shirt from my locker? I left it open, you can wear it, it's for good luck in my game today. Then I want to take you out of here” his locker would be open, and fitting like a glove, Haechan's idea could serve Jake at that moment. Stacy would put her bra in his locker, let you think whatever you wanted and then she would go on with her life as if nothing had happened. She did that and took off the bra she was wearing to put in Haechan's locker, so she wouldn't waste time because she didn't know if you would throw the fabric away or if you would confront her. She found herself in the unfortunate decision of having the latter option two days later.

“You already got revenge on me for that day and I apologize to you.” Stacy felt her eyes burning, she was embarrassed for being caught and confronted at a wedding party she didn’t even know why she had gone to. She thought that not telling him she was Haechan’s girlfriend would be the best choice to see the faces of familiar people once again since no one had kept in touch with her besides her boyfriend.

“Did you get revenge on her? What did you do?” Jake looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, doubt in his expression, and his lips in a cute pout. If it weren’t for the current situation, you would have kissed him for sure.

“I didn’t do anything” you said softly, just so he could hear. But Stacy didn’t listen, so she kept talking.

“She hit me in the hallway of the north block a few days later” she sighed “Almost broke my nose.”

“What?” Sunghoon shouted in surprise “So our last fraternity party… The injury on your nose…”

“It wasn’t a cheerleader stunt” she continued.

A short silence fell between you all, only the music of the party and Stacy’s small sobs could be heard. You could notice how much Josie was trying to calm the situation and disperse the people so that everyone could enjoy the rest of the party.

Your gaze went up to Jake’s face and he was expressionless now. The astonishment that had taken over had given way to a neutral look, but it contained something that you couldn’t identify. Remorse? Fear? Anger?

“Jake…” you called him without knowing why you were doing that. He was still looking at you with the same expression, not even softening at the sound of your voice.

“Can we talk later?” he asked, his tone serious, but somehow trying to sound a little calm for your liking “I’ll take you home and then we can talk, okay?”

There was no way you could insist or say no, just accept it because you didn't even know why you wanted to talk to him at that moment. Everything had hit you like a blow, and just like you, Jake might need some time to cool down and talk to you at the end of the party.

Waving slowly, you watched him walk away as Haechan pulled Stacy away and the others walked through the party until it was just you and him left there. Or just you, as soon as Jake walked away and walked to the bar to get something to drink. So, you allowed yourself to release all the air you were holding, refusing to cry after reality hit your mind and heart.

You believed a lie for all that time. And there was no going back now.

Jake tried to loosen his grip on the steering wheel, but his firm grip on the leather showed how nervous he still was. Spending the rest of the party brooding over everything that had happened, in addition to seeing how shaken you were by it all, made him feel even worse. He thought he would be fine after you heard that he had never cheated on you, that you had believed a lie… But he didn't feel good. Jake seemed to feel even worse after seeing how bad you were.

That was why, when he guided you to the car to take you home after the party was over, he preferred to stay quiet and let you be quiet too. The whole drive was in complete silence, with the only sounds being the car engine and the city's movements in the early morning. Occasionally Jake would look in your direction to see if you had fallen asleep or if you were okay, checking on you or waiting for you to look at him too. The only time your eyes met his was when you pulled up to your apartment, Jake turning off the car engine as soon as he parked in the parking lot of your building.

He didn't have to ask if you wanted him to come with you, because you got out first and left the keys with him, as a silent request that he could go up with you. And Jake did just that. From the hallways of the building to the elevator, going to your floor in the most absolute silence. Maybe even more than when the two of you were inside the car.

He turned the keys when you both reached your door, letting you enter first and leading the way in the small darkness that formed inside your apartment. After locking the door, Jake took off his shoes and threw his blazer next to the hanger by the door to make himself a little more comfortable as he followed you to the kitchen still without saying a word.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Jake asked for the first time since the two of you left the party after the wedding. Your eyes followed his figure who was standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the wood as he looked in your direction.

“I think…” you sighed, looking around after Jake held your gaze. Feeling a little shy from the intensity with which he was looking at you “I’ll make some coffee and…”

“I’ll make the coffee” Jake interrupted you slowly “Go upstairs and put on something more comfortable” he tried to sound a little softer with you, but there was still a hint of seriousness in his voice that you recognized. A palpable tension that he finally had the whole truth exposed, he just didn’t know how to act after all.

You wouldn't deny it, especially since your feet were almost killing you from the pain from the moment you took off your heels in the middle of the party. You definitely wanted to take off that silk from your clothes, even though they were so comfortable that you danced all night without worrying. But at that moment, your body just needed other fabrics. So you quickly went to your room, passing by Jake without looking at him because you knew that if that happened, there would be no way to go back or simply remember to change your clothes.

As soon as you got to your room, the first thing you did was slide the dress down your body and leave it lying anywhere on the floor. The air blowing against your almost naked skin was a soothing balm for everything you had witnessed in the last few hours. When you got to the bathroom, looking at your appearance in the mirror, Jake's idea of ​​taking a shower didn't seem so bad after all. Turning on the shower and letting the water run wasn't a thought you were reluctant to do, it had to be done. Getting all the dirt, sweat, and exhaustion off your body, both for the fun and for the mix of sensations and how sore and tired you felt. The pain in your feet went away as you squeezed them – not as gently as Jake did – with the help of the soap and hot water. Everything goes down the drain minutes later: dirt, tiredness, and a bit of sadness.

Quickly drying yourself, you grabbed a pair of old sweatpants that belonged to Heeseung and that you never let him take possession of. They belonged to you since the day you put them on by mistake at your parent's house when you and he still lived there since then those pants became yours and no one would say otherwise. For the top, the only comfortable thing you could wear was a sports bra. Without the clinging fabric of a t-shirt on your torso, you wanted something breathable and that would make you feel freer, this was perfect.

“Time to take off my makeup” you muttered to yourself after you had finished changing properly, looking in the mirror to find your mascara slightly smudged and the red lipstick already coming off your lips. You remembered the tireless hours you spent with Josie and Susan at the beauty salon that same day, in the early hours of the morning. Not even thinking that you would have to take it off at the end of it all, ending up with a beautiful job, even though you felt like you couldn’t keep your makeup on for so long.

Taking the cotton and the makeup remover, you moistened the cute object to wipe your face and, before doing so, looked at your reflection once more. Something in your mind made you think of everything besides the time you had taken to put on your makeup and get ready for the wedding. That had been the makeup for your brother and sister-in-law’s most important day, but it was also with that makeup that you faced the biggest event of your life. With that mascara on your eyes, you were able to witness the lies that Stacy had told you for so long. It was with that lipstick on your lips that you cursed her, and with all that makeup on you stared at people and saw Jake's gaze on you all night. Without being able to decipher, what he was feeling.

Everything, at that moment, was a shock and you only realized that you were crying and looking at your reflection when your vision blurred and you heard Jake calling you in the background. His hurried steps through the room before Jake's figure stopped right at the bathroom door.

“Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” the desperation in your tone, the look in Jake’s eyes as he turned you around, making you face him. This made you cry even more. Your mouth opened and closed to say something, but nothing came out, just silent sobs as you let the tears fall freely down your cheeks. “Hey… What happened?” he asked again.

“I just—” you sobbed again “I ruined everything.”

Jake’s hands found their way to your waist in a matter of seconds, bringing your body close to his in just enough space for him to tilt his face and be close to yours. Without saying a single word, he looked deep into your eyes, letting you shed as many tears as you thought necessary. His fingers held tightly to your skin and, with a small push, he picked you up and placed you sitting on the bathroom counter.

“Ruined what, exactly?” he asked, taking the cotton from your hand. Jake wet the makeup remover again and straightened up between your legs to take off your makeup for you. A few days ago, this position between the two of you yielded something beyond what was happening, and butterflies in your stomach hit you at the thought of it. But there he was, with the utmost sweetness and affection, carefully passing the cotton pad over the entire length of your face. Completely the opposite of what he had done to you last time.

“Us” you answered when Jake passed the cotton pad over one of your eyes, forcing you to close it so he could remove the mascara. You heard him sigh right in front of you, the air blowing against your face due to Jake’s proximity to you.

The silence that settled between you was strangely comfortable. Now and then your sobs could still be heard as you tried to normalize your breathing and stop crying. Jake was completely focused on wetting the cotton pads, removing your makeup, and making sure you were clean and comfortable enough. Once everything was over and he threw the rest of the things in the trash, he remained with his body still between your legs.

“You didn’t ruin us” he finally replied, his hands resting on your thighs instead of touching the marble of the bathroom sink. Jake’s fingers, although blocked by the sweatpants you were wearing, were a warm and comfortable touch. Something you missed and only realized the last time the two of you had a little more contact.

“Of course” your eyes burned again and your vision became blurry again. Jake’s figure in front of you was like a blur when you felt like you were going to cry again. “I spent all this time thinking that you—”

He knew what you would say, but he didn’t want to hear it out loud. It was a past completely behind him, one that Jake didn’t want to dig up and much less make you remember. So the only way for it to end was when he touched your lips with his. A soft kiss, placing his mouth on yours and slowly sliding the tip of his tongue along your lower lip. It didn't take long for your passage to be accepted, letting him guide the kiss while one of his hands came up to hold your face. He held you in his hands with such care, kissing you and making you feel every little touch.

That should have calmed you down, but it made you shed the tears that still insisted on appearing. Jake felt each one of them between the kiss you shared, each time softer and slower, the movement of your tongues in sync as he let you feel each small slide of his mouth against yours. When you both needed to compose yourself, Jake pulled his lips away from yours enough so that you could both breathe. Still keeping your mouths closed and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“You know what?” Jake said, still breathless and a little hoarse. You just murmured in agreement, letting him continue his train of thought “When we started dating, one of the first things Heeseung told me was that you were the most stubborn person I would ever meet in my life.”

“Really?” you opened your eyes in shock, staring at Jake who was still between your legs. His lips reddened and smiling at you.

“Really” he kissed your lips once more, his hand still on your face caressing your cheek and sliding his thumb to your lower lip “What happened in that locker room was shitty and I don’t blame you for feeling that way. I just…” he took a deep breath, his hands finding their place back on your waist. “I needed time until I made you listen to me. I would never rest until I knew I would never do that to you.”

It was your turn to pull Jake into a soft kiss, just to feel his mouth against yours again. The slow, calm slide of his mouth against yours before you pulled away.

“Do you forgive me for being so stubborn? For wasting our time?”

“I have nothing to forgive you for, baby” Jake took a few steps back, his mischievous smile making your heart race a little faster than usual. “By the way, I have something for you.”

“For me? What is it?” you asked.

“I’ll be right back” Without giving you a chance to answer, Jake ran out of the bathroom, leaving you still sitting on the sink counter. You decided to go downstairs and walk to your room, trying to think of what he could have for you. It couldn’t be coffee, because the cup he brought was resting on the nightstand on your side of the bed. Running to the bathroom while you were crying made him completely forget about the drink there, maybe it had even gone cold. You didn’t care, after all.

Jake’s footsteps were heard on the other side of the door and, before you could walk a little further and open it, he did it himself. One hand was hidden behind his back as he entered your room.

“What’s all this suspense, Jake Sim?” you raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical about all the mystery surrounding the two of you. Jake chuckled softly, walking slowly but nervously towards you until he stopped right in front of you.

“I bought this because I knew I could give it to you one day” he said softly, not quite a whisper, but his tone was still soft. Jake’s eyes were focused on every corner of your face, wanting to convey a little of everything the two of you had shared so far. Or at least try to understand a little of the emotion he felt after everything that had happened.

He pulled away until he showed you what he was holding and, as soon as you saw the only orchid he had between his fingers, you almost cried for the third time that night.

“Jake…”

“It was the flower of our relationship, I—” he held it out to you, letting you take it and smell it as you always did with every orchid he gave you over the years. The characteristic smile that showed you were truly surprised, but without a single word to express what you were feeling. While your free hand went to his face and caressed Jake's cheek, the skin against your fingers so soft “I bought it the day we went to see things for my sister. I thought I could give it to you at some point.”

“Did you think it would be soon?” you asked.

Jake took a step forward, getting close enough to be able to hug your body with his.

“I didn't think so, but I hoped it would be. I couldn't stand being away from you anymore with all these wrong and poorly explained things” he huffed, his forehead pressed against yours when Jake's head leaned forward to get even closer to your face. You allowed yourself to laugh for the first time since you had arrived home, holding the flower tightly in one hand, while the other still held Jake's face.

“So go take a shower, take off those wedding clothes, and stay with me in bed all night.”

“Just tonight?” Jake asked, pouting. Which didn't last long because you broke it with a quick kiss.

“As long as you want…”

“I think my whole life is perfect for me” he shrugged, kissing you once more before pulling away and quickly taking off his white shirt. Both because of the shower he was looking forward to taking and because of the lack of contact with you.

Jake wanted to make up for lost time and everything you two didn't experience because of the lies that surrounded you, him, and your relationship. A silent promise that, even if you were stubborn, you would never stop believing in him again.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[malusokay]

5 Classics for girly girls 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Emily of New Moon

The bittersweet process of growing up and finding where you truly belong... The perfect read for the start of a new school year. After her father’s death, Emily Starr is sent to live with her snobbish relatives at New Moon farm. Thrust into an unfamiliar and often cold environment, Emily faces numerous challenges. However, as time passes, she begins to adapt and discovers the beauty in her surroundings. With the support of her new friends—Teddy, Perry, and Ilse—Emily not only finds solace but also discovers her own creative talents, helping her carve out a place for herself in this new chapter of her life.

“If it's IN you to climb you must -- there are those who MUST lift their eyes to the hills -- they can't breathe properly in the valleys.”

Jane Eyre

A true classic for all my fellow gothic-lit enthusiasts, Jane Eyre, reminds us that everyone deserves a love that consumes, challenges, and transforms the very core of your being, offering both profound joy and deep heartache (we love a good situationsship). Following Jane Eyre, an orphaned and mistreated girl who endures a harsh upbringing but grows into a strong, independent woman. As she takes a position as a governess at Thornfield Hall, she encounters the enigmatic Mr. Rochester, sparking a profound and tumultuous romance. Their intense connection is marred by secrets and personal demons, revealing the complexities of their relationship.

“Jane, be still; don't struggle so like a wild, frantic bird, that is rending its own plumage in its desperation." "I am no bird, and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being, with an independent will; which I now exert to leave you.”

The Secret Garden

Mary Lennox, a spoiled and neglected girl, is sent to live with her uncle after the death of her parents. Initially ill-tempered and withdrawn, Mary’s curiosity is sparked by rumours of a hidden, abandoned garden on the estate. As she explores and begins to restore this secret garden, she experiences a beautiful shift (glow-up era). The once gloomy and sickly Mary starts to bloom alongside the garden, rediscovering happiness, vibrancy, and a sense of belonging, making the story a heartwarming tale of growth and recovery.

“At first, people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done--then it is done, and all the world wonders why it was not done centuries ago.”

Pride and Prejudice

Truly a classic that has shaped my romantic expectations hahah... Elizabeth Bennet battles societal expectations and her own misjudgments in 19th-century England. When the aloof Mr Darcy (he'd totally be a ghoster in the 21st century just saying...) first crosses her path, their initial encounters are fraught with tension and misunderstanding. However, as Elizabeth delves deeper, she uncovers the complexities of Darcy’s character and her own heart.

“I could no longer help saying that I loved him. I loved him not only for his sake but for his own sake. I loved him because he was the only person who had ever really loved me for myself. I loved him because he had made me feel that I was worthy of being loved.”

The Little Prince

A young, otherworldly prince from a tiny planet travels across the universe, meeting various inhabitants and learning profound life lessons. His journey brings him to Earth, where he encounters a stranded pilot and shares his reflections on love, loss, and the essence of human connections. Through whimsical adventures and encounters, The Little Prince explores the importance of seeing with the heart rather than the eyes and reminds us of the value of friendship and innocence.

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched; they are felt with the heart.”

you guys asked for more academia/book stuff so I thought this might be a nice start, especially since I know that many of you are just getting into classics; these are all very much suitable for beginners!! <3

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[mygnolia]

it’s cupid, stupid! | lhs

୨୧ SYNOPSIS -›  To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?

୨୧ PAIR  -› golden boy!heeseung x fem-pres!reader

୨୧ GENRE -› fluff, pining, hurt/angst, slow burn (oops), bakery au, summer au, post highschool au | ୨୧ TROPES -› (slightly one sided) enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers | ୨୧ WC -› 20k (jfc)

୨୧ INCLUDES -› CURSING, food mentions, a self indulgent characterization of my grandmother but she’s also everyone else’s in this fic, the bakery has foods from like 40 different cultures, both mc and hee get burned but it’s tiny, heeseung’s parents r lowk overachieving assholes this is NOT a reflection of anyone irl, ew so much banter, heeseung and mc drink from the same straw ik that’s an ick for some LOL, underaged alcohol consumption (and being drunk)…sorry

୨୧ REN SAYS... thank u thank u thank u peng aka @jlheon for beta reading this in one sitting for me!!! your comments were so cute i'm so glad you enjoyed reading it <3

plsplsplspls reblog and send feedback/asks if you liked this!

Lee Heeseung might only have eleven characters to his name, but they spelt trouble in forty different ways. 

It starts with the same old Lee Heeseung spilling his applesauce on you in the first grade, with his cup of mushy lukewarm grossness splattered across your new pants with glittery stars on them. You shriek when it happens, frantically wiping off the mess and yelling at his Lightning McQueen lunchbox with all of the bottled up rage a six year old can have. His eyes are wide, but all his friends laugh and say girls are so angry all the time, so he stops himself from apologizing. Which, you think his friends were being a little rude to all girls alike, but what mattered was that Lee Heeseung never ended up saying sorry. 

But that’s just one way of spelling it. He hit you in the face with a ball, ran into you when your knee was scraped and you almost were bursting into tears, and tripped you in the lunch line. 

Did the universe hate you, or did he? 

You figured it was the latter.

Heeseung’s been stuck to you your entire life with some extra strong adhesive that you can’t seem to get off. You wish you could get some of the same glue that stuck you two to the hip and attach his tongue to the nearest streetlight, but things almost never worked in your favor. If you could catch him, just once, like one of the dumb boys who lick frozen poles in winter, you’d be satisfied. 

The blackmail would trump any sort of Heeseung related adversity your elementary grade self had to deal with. 

Unfortunately, the years have rendered you no protection against him, and in the small victories you find yourself in, you also see Heeseung right next to you. The exam you aced was topped by Heeseung with a 98%, just a bit higher than your 96%, and it couldn’t even feel good to talk about it because you knew all your friends talked about was how he did the best. Better than you. 

There was no accomplishment anymore when Heeseung was around. 

Heeseung was perfect in everyone’s eyes, a golden boy in their praises and a role model for their parents. If people didn’t want to be with Lee Heeseung, people wanted to be Lee Heeseung. That? That was something you hated. How could people want to be someone who you couldn’t stand?

Summer is a new slate- a very humid new beginning for you to get away from people at school and hang out with only your closest of friends and to ghost any new message you get. That is, if you choose to. Or, you could have an objectively more “hot girl summer” where you go to pools and post pictures on social media and talk about strangers on the internet. Unfortunately, none of those things seemed to be a viable option, with your friends in different countries and in cute swimsuits. Your visits to your grandmother had been so pushed back with all of the finals on top of exams and end of the year festivities that it had been a while since you last saw her. Spending time with her this summer was your number one priority- your friends could wait a few weeks to hang out again. 

You spend your first Saturday at her house making pastries with oddly reminiscent spices and a sprinkle of your childhood within every slice. If there’s one person you can trust to stay the same, it’s your dear grandma, with her decade old recipes and hard to find ingredients that she sometimes makes you go on a manhunt for. It’s endearing in a way to know that her cooking will never change, and maybe it’s the reason you make an effort to visit when you can. You love your grandma, and you always have, because she’s the only true constant in a world that’s constantly changing. 

You’ve made a feast by the time the sun barely peeks from the edge of the ground. You’ve measured countless spoons of sauces and powdery substances that all look the same and you're surprised the sauce you burned still tastes good. She’s finished setting up the table, and you two can finally dig into your favorite authentic cooking. Even if you see her quite frequently, she doesn’t always cook. Sometimes it’s leftovers, sometimes it’s take-out. But today was different. 

After you’ve both finished, your grandma hands you plastic wrapped dishes filled with mere fractions of what you two have made. She tells you to go to the Lee’s down the road, and your eyes narrow slightly. Lee is also the last name of Heeseung. So, what would be the odds it was him? 

Not likely. Heeseung would think he’s too cool to live in an area like this. His parents are probably minted- and if not loaded, then well off. 

Well, you were 100% wrong! Lee Heeseung does seem to live here, and you will admit the porcelain figures of calico cats in the dark as shapeless silhouettes were a little frightening at first. Your grandma washed away your previous concerns with a “Of course they’ll be home! Heeseung always answers the door for me.” and pushes you out of the house to deliver the two boxes of leftovers that smell delectable. If you weren’t so full, you’d just take a different route and have it for yourself. 

You can hear the ‘it’s our neighbor!’ And a pair of footsteps tumbling down the carpeted stairs to answer the doorbell. 

Lee fucking Heeseung in his sock and pajama clad glory. How punchable he looked in this very moment, with his warm brown dyed hair and white t-shirt. 

“I have leftovers. For your family.” His widened eyes immediately go back to their normal state, and he reaches out to meet your offering halfway. 

“You live here?” He asks, in a calm, civil manner that you don’t think you’ve ever seen with him. 

“Grandma does- I’m just her errand…runner.” You respond, in a not so smooth way. You wince internally at how choppy your words come out, but make no further effort to fix it. By now, it’s Heeseung who’s holding the styrofoam boxes. Your job is done. “Do you live here?” 

He nods solemnly, a smile filled with a smidgen of pride dusted across his features. He loves this house- Heeseung’s been in it his entire life, and it’s obvious the memories that have stayed with him since childhood make him far from ashamed to say it’s where he’s grown up all these years. But you? Could you say the same thing about the simple abode you went home to everyday? 

Maybe not. Another reason why Heeseung had it perfect, and another reason to resent him. 

You sighed to ease the tension that had condensed between the two of you. His mom wondered what took him so long, and he wondered the same question. 

Before you’re about to turn away, he blurts, “Thanks for the food.” You turn around, nodding a silent ‘of course,’ and walking away. 

At that very moment, there was no reason to hate Lee Heeseung. But as you walked away and back to your house, you hated the calico cats and the gate you entered through the house he went back inside to. 

The nostalgic board game high with your grandma does not last for long. As if the universe needed another reason to hate you, the unfortunate truth was that there was always more in store when you were subjected to a bad day, a bad week, or even a case of bad luck. You come back to the mahogany door to terrible news- your grandmother is sick. You rush out of her house the same day with the names of medicinal cures scribbled on a notecard and an urgency in your step. You buy her enough to last for the next few lifetimes, but it doesn’t matter. Anything healthy you could find in the fresh food aisle, you put in your cart, and when you came home, she was already up and sweeping the cold floors with a cough threatening to overwhelm her. 

Sometimes, you wish she didn’t overwork herself. You gently coerce her into laying on the couch, taking some of the medicine you got with a cup of warm water to ease her throat. She says nothing and you expect nothing in return for the last minute shopping you’ve done, but her eyes hold a sincere thankfulness that you know she will never speak aloud. When she’s retired to her bed, you finish unpacking the groceries and complete the mental task of chores your grandma would’ve exerted herself to finish independently. When you’ve finished, your hands are dry with soap and cleaning products, and your arms ache from the mopping, but the house is clean, and your grandma is sleeping well in the other room. You turn off the tv with one of her shows and switch off the light, heading back to your room and changing out of your clothes. By the time you crawl into your bed and charge your phone, the moon is the last thing you remember seeing before you fall asleep.

Monday comes unexpectedly, despite time still being on its course. You find yourself flipping through the cookbooks that littered the walls in your grandmother’s room, and in turn, the absolute urge to busy yourself in her passions manifested in the impulsive decision to work at her bakery. 

“Could- could I go work in the shop?” 

At first, her rejection was through scowls and furrowed eyebrows wondering why someone like you would want to fill their youthful summer days dusting surfaces with flour and kneading doughs instead of living the dream and swimming in turquoise waters. Her second rejection is easier to register. “I already have Hee helping me.” She states plainly, excusing the idea of two people in one room to run her business. Your nose scrunches up, and the temperature of your blood increases tenfold.

“Heeseung,” she clarifies, with almost too much enthusiasm. “He’s in your grade. Goes to your school, too.” She smiles, brushing a section of hair behind your ear and examining the imperfections on your skin. You frown, the obvious displeasure plastered on your features. It’s not hard to notice you don’t like what she just told you. “You don’t like him?”

“It’s whatever.” You tell her, shrugging away from her gaze and shrinking in on yourself. “I don’t care much for him.” 

What a lie! “It seems like you don’t like him.” She comments.

Of course you don’t like him. Heeseung is stuck up, arrogant, and looks past people like you- people who just aren’t as perfect as him. “I mean, why can’t I help you? Shouldn’t Heeseung….rest for the summer?” 

“It’s fine- he’s helped me out multiple times anyways.” She concludes, closing the book she was reading previously. “I wouldn’t mind you coming down to help, I’m sure 17 year olds like you and Hee can run things by yourself.” You raise an eyebrow at both of your names mentioned, but don’t speak out against her. 

You can run it by yourself, but you won’t, simply because your grandmother seems to have an affinity for some boy you just happen to hate. Plus, if Heeseung messes up, you get all the triple chocolate cake to yourself, so you’ll pray on his downfall until then. 

Wednesday morning is when you head over to the bakery, at a much earlier time than usual. The business doesn’t open until at least an hour later, and you spend the time preparing the mixing stands and covering the sweet rolls to be baked in a light sheen of oil. When the sun shines more vibrantly in the morning sky, and the cars honk at the traffic, a ruffled head of hair enters the building, and you’re very worried that you might’ve forgotten to lock the doors. “Sorry, we’re closed!” You yell out, but Lee Heeseung’s tuft of tinted hair is already in your vicinity. 

“The real question would be why you’re here, Miss _____.” He glances towards you, curiosity glazing his eyes over. You immediately scowl at his slightly teasing tone, one that could feel even condescending if he pushed that boundary just a bit more. Lee Heeseung might objectively be better than you in the eyes of an average high schooler, but frankly, you were just the same, and he had no right to sound that amused when you woke up and came here first. It’s 8:03am, and you already found just one more reason to hate him. 

You roll your eyes, knowing that with your back turned to him, he wouldn’t notice the obvious displeasure. “I can’t help out my grandma?” 

It’s so quiet in the place that you hear him suck on a breath behind you. “She’s your grandma?” 

“Did you not remember when I dropped off the food? Oh right, you probably wouldn’t spend your time on something so…,” you pause, racking your brain for a word you think he would use. “‘insignificant.’” 

Rustling. He takes a bowl and a carton of eggs. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Sorry, it’s just so difficult to believe you’re related to her.” Were you really that detached from your culture, or was Heeseung just mean? 

Lee Heeseung’s words get right under your skin, and it makes you see red. You frown in his direction, disregarding his words and moving on with your day.  “Yeah, my grandma is nice, I just don’t know why she thinks you’re a saint.”

“She thinks I’m a saint?” And you see something for the first time, something that’s akin to stars in his eyes, and the corner of his lips turn in satisfaction. He doesn’t even comment on how you’ve let it slip that you’re jealous of their relationship. 

“Maybe in your dreams.” 

“You just said-“ 

You feel like two cats about the fight behind a dumpster, before the door jingles, and someone walks into your conversation with Heeseung. 

“Sorry, is the shop not-?”

You rush to the counter before Heeseung does, counting it as a mental victory to take the first order. 

“It is! What would you like?” It’s something else you can tell your grandma when you get home- that you’ve been starting off all the work in the bakery, and you’re ‘not sure what Heeseung really does.’

The professionalism masks the irritation on his features, and you would’ve killed to see Lee Heeseung’s frown once more. 

When the customer is done telling you his order, you make sure he gets everything he needs, fully satisfied before the ring of the door is heard once more during his departure. The corner of your lip turns up into a grin, victorious as you childishly tease your co-worker. 

“I’m going to do the most around here, and I don’t need your pretty face getting in the way of things.” 

While he denies the rest, Heeseung doesn’t quite ignore what you said about his features. 

When noon has passed, but the sun still glares down on everyone outside, you work just as hard as the white ceiling fan providing cool air for everyone inside. You work in silence, with a playlist filling the air and adding to the ambience, as you listen to your own music through your headphones. Heeseung works without interacting with you more than what needs to be done, and rarely asks for help. He doesn’t let people down; if anything, he exceeds their expectations, but never yours. It’s been like this since the beginning, and you’re convinced it’s something personal- some wrangle ever since you two learned what cooties were that lasted until now. 

“____,” He starts, turning to you. You glance at him, waiting for the boy to continue. “Can you make the brown sugar milk tea- it’s on the-“ 

“I know where it is.” You snip.

Heeseung makes the right choice (in your opinion) to say nothing as you proceed to grab a cup and open the container of boba pearls. After you’ve taken a few orders, you move to the back of the bakery to pull the tray of matcha sheet cake onto the counter to cool. 

“Have you seen the scissors?” Heeseung asks out of nowhere, startling you from the doorway. 

Reaching for the ones you used to cut the parchment paper with, you hand the pair to him and with a mumbled ‘thank you,’ he makes his leave.

In an odd way, you’re stunned by the silence that follows. A “you suck, _____!” would be more in character for villainous Lee Heeseung than whatever just happened. But you’re way too occupied with the bakery, and go back to cutting squares in the matcha cake. 

It’s the same for the next hour until the rush ends and you get a bit more time to yourselves between orders. Heeseung agrees to wash the dishes and you clean the tables to the sound of your playlist from the speakers. 

“You have good music taste.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth when he emerges. He wipes his hand on a white towel and you stare at him, utterly puzzled. Where’s the malice? Where’s his snarky comments?

“I’m waiting for you to tell me it’s not as good as yours, or something along those lines.” You deadpan. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “I’m not that mean, I can give a compliment or two when I feel like it.” 

“Oh, poor Lee Heeseung only has so much room in his heart to compliment people. How thankful should I be that you spend your daily supply of niceness on me?” You snap, cleaning off the tables. Your chest feels light and you don’t feel as angry as you did this morning, finding your digs to be more playful that serious

Blame it on the lack of sleep.

“I think you should be bowing down to me and only talking when I tell you to.” He jokes, and when you glance up, there’s a semblance of a smile on his face. “Anyways, when are you leaving?”

“Whenever you leave.” You tell him, shrugging. 

“Your grandma said she didn’t want you to stay too late but she also wanted me to take you home, and I think she’d throw a fit if you didn’t. You were dropped off this morning, right?”

“I’d die before getting into a car with you, Lee Heeseung.” 

“If I had to get into a car with you, that’s probably how I’d die.” He responds lightly. You furrow your eyebrows and rack your brain for some sort of retort that hurts Heeseung’s pride, but nothing comes up. 

“My driving skills are very good, I’ll have you know.” 

He jabs, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“How about, next time you come, you leave with your bumper falling off? Some bad driving, yeah?” 

Heeseung could start feeling dizzy if his eyes continue to roll around in his skull. “Sure, we’ll see what your insurance has to say about that.” 

The aroma of vanilla slips through the air, and momentarily distracts you as you make haste to get it from the ringing oven. Unfortunately, your enthusiasm spills over the rim, and when reaching inside, you feel the burn of the sheet cake as you leave it on the iron rack to cool. Heeseung doesn’t tear his eyes from the way you jump back, squeezing the tender skin between your fingers as you blow on it in puffs. 

“Are you okay? Here-“ He reaches for your hand, but gentle. “Let me see that.” Heeseung soothes the slight pain with his thumb running over the burn, and his breath cooling it down slowly. 

“I’m fine.” You tell him, slowly pulling your finger away. His gaze snaps back up at you, and you feel your disdain for him dwindle ever so slightly. Maybe the Heeseung that rushed to make sure you were okay isn’t so bad. 

“Right. You’ll be fine.” And he doesn’t know if it’s something he tells himself, or if he’s telling you, when he goes to get some ointment. 

“A grad party? With Heeseung? Invited?” 

You can’t see him, but you almost hear Sunoo’s pout from the line. “Yeah, I don’t even know why you two fight anyways.” 

You huff, laying back down on your bed after Sunoo’s confession made you shoot up in surprise. “Have you seen him? He’s the most stuck-up annoying person ever.” 

Your friend hums. “To be honest, I don’t think you really know him.” 

“I know him plenty. And there’s nothing good about him, like, ever!” 

“You barely even talk to him, ____.” The last week proves differently, but you bite your tongue.

“I talk to him enough!” You’d defend yourself until the end of the earth. “He’s just…always around me- not like I even want him to, or he’s always hanging out with my friends, or-“

“Our friends.” 

“Well, not really.” You think hard. “They’re only friends because you and I are friends, so I’m friends with Heeseung in a distant obligatory way. And I need to keep it that way by not coming to this party.” 

“Come on!” Sunoo whines from the phone, and you laugh at his antics. “It’s a grad party, you’ll be too busy talking with everyone else to care anyways.” 

“Well, maybe for a bit.” 

“When’s the next time we’ll even be able to see each other anyways? Considering all of this college stuff.” 

You break his facade. “We’re literally going swimming in two weeks from now.” Sunoo laughs. “No, ____. Swimming is different from eating snacks and playing dumb board games.” 

He’s right, and you admit that it’ll be fun for something once last time. 

Maybe Heeseung won’t even show up. 

The next day at the bakery, you rush to ask him, almost too eager to know his answer. “Are you going to Sunoo’s party?” Please say no please please please-

“Of course. I’m his friend. You weren’t invited, or something?” His tone makes you want to light a fire on his head. 

“I’m his friend, too. I was the first person he talked to about it, so of course I was invited, and of course I’m going.” You say it as if the boy in front of you didn’t make you single handedly question your attendance last night. You say it like your demeanor never faltered, not even once. You say it like Heeseung had no say in the decision.

Because he definitely didn’t.

“I’ll see you there, then.” He smiles at you, a glint of evil in his eyes as he gauges your reaction. You return his scheming grin, frosting a slice of cake before walking out and calling the order number. When Heeseung emerges from the paper white curtains, he sees you engrossed in helping a customer pick out a few of the best options for ‘something not so sweet.’ 

When you’re done, you turn around to take a sip of your iced tea. “Really?” He starts, stirring some milk into a swirling shot of espresso. “The red bean cake is your definition of not too sweet?” Your ear-to-ear smile falls when you hear the off-handed comment from Heeseung, leaning against the counter with his taro milk tea, with close to no sugar. 

“I’m sure if they asked you, they would’ve walked out with a cake that tastes like a sponge.” You retaliate. You do your best not to look so affected, seeing as there were other people in the vicinity. It’s a bakery, you have to keep up the comforting atmosphere. 

“I don’t really think you’re the best person to offer advice for those kinds of things, unfortunately.” His tone snips at your resolve, and with every passing moment you stare at his lips and listen to his words, the more you wish to sew them together. 

“Sure, and they’ll be satisfied with eating basically paper? Your standards are also a little far-fetched.” You busy yourself with cleaning the cups and bowls from this morning, physically turning away from him. 

He walks past you and into the kitchen, but not before saying, “I’m sorry one of us has good taste.” 

You pray to every being that someone keeps Heeseung from speaking another insufferable word. 

Sunoo’s house is as quaint as you remember, and although you don’t find yourself making the resemblance often, it suits him. With one hand occupied with holding a gift, and the other about to press the doorbell, you’re interrupted by an all too familiar voice. 

“I guess you did show up. Sucks to see my dreams didn’t come true.”

“I will throw this at you.” You motion to the neat basket in your hands.

Heeseung sighs dramatically, before continuing in the same feigned tone. “Would be a shame if Sunoo only had one gift from us.” 

“He’d understand.” You turn around to ring the doorbell, and Sunoo emerges, a bright smile on his face. He greets the both of you, and his quick side hug immediately reminds you of why you’re here. 

You will have a good time. And you won’t let any auburn haired boy ruin that. 

Despite being close to Sunoo, you’re not as close to the rest of his friends. He keeps his circle small, only with people he spends time with regularly. Which would be good for any other day, but for today, you feel almost like an outsider. Sunoo’s group of friends greet you all the same, and shower the boy behind you with affection. When you walk towards the kitchen, you catch some more of your mutual friends, and your nerves slowly ease away. You join their ongoing card game, an observer to it all as they yell in success or defeat. 

The group of people playing Taboo suddenly doubles as the six of Sunoo’s friends decide they want in. With the way you move to the floor, you’re so preoccupied with making sure there’s enough space for everyone and that all the cards are there, that you don’t realize where you’re sitting. 

Cross legged, on the ground, next to Lee Heeseung. 

You can’t get up, and you weakly protest against the many thoughts telling you that a game of Taboo with Lee Heeseung would get you so heated that everyone would see steam out of your ears by the end of the first round. 

“You know how to play?” Yuna starts to thumb through the cards, making sure all of them are placed in the right orientation. While the majority of you guys nod, a few of them shake their heads, and it prompts a quick explanation from Ryujin. 

“So, everyone gets a set of cards in a team of 3, and you have to describe it without using the words in the white box below. So for example, if my word is Vanilla, I can’t use the words bean, flavor, ice cream, extract, or chocolate.” She shows everyone the example card, and you all nod your heads. “Okay, now we divide into teams!” You tune out the rest of her words as she divides you all into sections based on where you’re sitting, and it leaves you with a twisting feeling. 

“Blue will be ____, Heeseung, and Jungwon!” 

Truly, was luck ever on your side?

You don’t have time to ponder just how horrible things are going, because Jungwon’s excitedly pulling you two close into a circle to discuss game plans. 

“Okay, just skip the cards you can’t answer, think about references rather than actual descriptions. Guys, the prize is good, Sunoo told me.” And the need to win anything reignites in your eyes, determination being your main motivation. 

Jake, Sunghoon, and Yuna go first, and guess four cards correctly. You feel the excitement coursing through the air like electricity, as everyone’s competitive spirit shows through. 

It’s finally your turn, and you volunteer to be the describer, picking up the cards with anticipation. You share a look with Heeseung and Jungwon, praying they share your wave of telepathy. 

First word- Engine. 

You scan through the words you’re not allowed to use, Jake watching over as your referee in case you slip up. 

“Okay, it’s the thing in the-“ You’re about to say car, but you pause, quickly trying to reevaluate your descriptions. The timer looms, and you feel panic settle in. “The thing that powers the…vroom vroom.” 

In Jungwon’s head, it clicks. “Engine!” You toss the card, reading the next. Egypt? 

“It’s a 3D thing, but it has three sides in north Africa.” 

“Pyramids.” Heeseung answers smoothly. 

You grin unknowingly. “Right-right, okay. Where is it?”

“Egypt.” 

“This is a Jesus related celebration-“ You continue, glancing at the hourglass as the sand slips through.

“Easter!” Jungwon says. “Christmas!” 

“The second one! It’s one of the little things you… put up!” 

“Stockings!” And you shake your head at Jungwon, goading them to think a bit more and guess. You glance up almost sheepishly, at a loss of words and stumbling over thoughts. Heeseung sighs, leaning back before looking at you again. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” You huff, flicking at the card anxiously. 

“Like what? Like you can’t describe a simple word?” 

“Oh, as if you could-“

“Ornament!” And with that, the timer ends. You glare at Heeseung, hard, and if you were anything like Superman, you really would’ve burned holes through his skull. Thankfully, with Jungwon was your mediator, you don’t say anything snarky back at him, staying silent as the other groups go. 

The first round tension eases as the night carries on. As Jake and Sunghoon score 7 cards in one round, it prompts you, Heeseung, and Jungwon to come together, a jittery feeling as you sip from a can of soda and pray your brain works in tandem with both of them. 

Remembering Heeseung’s your describer, you sink in your seat a little, feeling hopelessness consume your mind- but Jungwon doesn’t let you sulk as he cheers Heeseung on. “Last round!” He says, a sparkle in his eye. The teams are so close, and despite your team having the lowest points by being the last group to go, you know you can score the 6 points needed to beat Ni-ki, Ryujin, and Sunoo. 

The hourglass is flipped, and you hold your breath. 

“Naturally occuring formation,” he says smoothly, glancing at you and Jungwon. “Hot stuff.” 

It clicks. “Volcano!” Jungwon smiles, feeling victory running through his veins. Heeseung’s lip curls up. 

“It’s the saying with too many people, ‘three’s a..” He waits for you both to finish the line. 

“Crowd!” Heeseung and you smile at each other as he continues to rush through the cards, briefly glancing over to the timer. 

He falters slightly, before lighting up. “When you’re excited, you’re on ____ 9.” You finish it quickly, burning holes into the back of his cards before he continues. You have to win. 

“Jungwon, we played this game in 2020 on Discord with the guys!” 

“Among Us.” and you laugh at the references he makes to win.

“____, it’s the 60% thing you like at the bakery.”

Your breath hitches, and you almost forget to answer until you see the way he’s looking at you. 

“Chocolate.” You mumble, and he cracks a grin again, relieved to get it in only four seconds. 

With the way he looks at the words and furrows his eyes, you worry that the sand will slip through the hourglass completely before he can finish explaining the sixth and final word. 

Heeseung chooses to deviate from the normal meaning of the words, and chooses to use a different meaning of it in order to not risk using a word on his unavailable list. “When something is more spicy than you expect, you say it has a little something to it.” 

Your heart is beating wildly, and you’re barely in the same spot as you were when you first started, leaning over and closer to Heeseung’s curly fringe. “Kick!” you yell out, and the room explodes in commotion, carefully counting the tallies under every team name. Yeji sighs as she marks down your final tally, and you stand up, all in a group hug before you even realize it. You watch Heeseung, looking up at the way his eyes are closed and his smile’s wide. The adrenaline keeps you jumping with your partners, unaware of how Sunoo observes the carefree way you cling onto his friend, and the supposed bane of your existence. When you two finally stop cheering at your long awaited victory, you shoot Heeseung a glance, noticing how he’s already looking at you with the same gears turning in his head. Although you’ve created space, he’s zoned out, and you can tell he hasn’t noticed that you two once again make eye contact. It takes a raised eyebrow from you for him to look elsewhere, absentmindedly tonguing the inside of his cheek, feeling almost embarrassed to have been so close. 

There’s a bubbling feeling in your stomach whenever you think about how he remembered- how Lee Heeseung pays attention to the little things. You push it down, because it’s nothing more than what coworkers do for each other. He’s cordial, as always. That’s all it is.

“Didn’t seem like you hated Heeseung much.” Sunoo comments, a smile puffing up his cheeks. You roll your eyes, helping him pick up some of the stray trash from the floor after the party is over. 

“Don’t even!’ You start, debating if you should throw a Dorito in his face. “It’s just for the games, he was literally insufferable every other minute.” 

Sunoo is unfortunately the victim to your back-and-forth, trying for you to see with reason but falling short to your simple petty nature. He fails to see how Heeseung has treated you, but deep down, you see it. You see the occasional stare Heeseung finds himself in with you, the frown on his features or the way he always carries himself  as if he’s somehow better than you. It’s exasperating how easily he surpasses you, and always glances back to make sure you know. The looks he gives you are deceptive, and you basically see his thoughts laid out in front of him before he turns away. You swear to Sunoo that he has it out for you, always trying to boost that inflated ego of his by showing you how much better he is at anything. 

“How are you so sure Heeseung just wants to rub it all in your face? Well, wait.” He pauses, tying a trash bag closed. “Why do you look at him so much that you catch him staring?” 

Oh. You think about it, truly emptying your brain to find a proper answer, but deep down, there was none to be found. 

“I don’t know, Sunoo,” you huff. “He just always looks at me.” 

“Maybe he wants to be friends.” 

Violently shaking your head, you smash in a water bottle, feeling a flash of confusion pass through you. “Why would he want to be friends with me? To show he’s such a nice and caring person?” The boy on the receiving end sighs, slumping to the floor in the kitchen. You stare at him, watching how Sunoo deflates before going to wash his hands in the sink. “You’re insufferable.” He calls out, laughing quietly. 

A frown makes its way onto your features unknowingly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you truly put yourself in your friend’s shoes. 

Surely, Sunoo sees what you mean, right? There’s just no way Heeseung would want to be friends with you either- it’s not like you treat him any better than he treats you. Plus, Heeseung has had it out for you, always by your side for the best and for the worst times, somehow dampening your mood in both. 

Right?

After a tight hug from Sunoo and your efforts to lift his mood after a long day, you get in your car, a random song from your playlist coursing through the stuffy air. 

There is mutual hatred- well, maybe not hatred, but dislike. A definite dislike between you and some part time bakery employee who also happens to be the worst boy you’ve ever met. 

You’re beginning to think that this feud between you two is a small flame that you’re shoveling piles of wood into, igniting from your own hands. 

You have no idea how to prove it, though. You can’t let yourself look like an idiot by simply being nice to him if he really has it out for you and hates you- or else he’ll get some sort of upper hand. 

Your plan goes like this; You’ll give Lee Heeseung one chance to prove himself as an arrogant and selfish person, and when it happens, it’ll be true solid evidence you have to dislike him. It’ll prove that Lee Heeseung hasn’t changed one bit, and that you were always right in your beliefs. 

You trust the universe will help you out one time, and pray for the best. 

So that’s why, when your grandmother invites you to join her at the Lee’s once again, you agree, finally getting to try not just the leftovers of Mrs. Lee’s delicious galbi recipe. 

And that’s how you're standing in front of his doorstep with a welcome mat under your feet, and a porcelain cat staring up at you from the porch. 

You hear the commotion that follows your knock, and you're greeted with a warm smile from whom you can only assume is Heeseung’s mother. After she invites you in, you meet the rest of the family, and make sure your grandmother has taken a seat. Heeseung glances at you from the stairs, before wordlessly joining the table, quickly grabbing bowls in the kitchen before coming to sit down. Everyone interacts, and you’re stuck smiling and shaking hands with his father and bowing to his grandmother, asking if there’s anything you can do to help. 

When his mother brings the steaming aromatic food over, your eyes light up. “Here, Heeseung, sit next to ____!” 

Your smile drops. 

He takes the empty seat next to you, flashing you a grin. “Long time no see.” You roll your eyes, with the distance between the two of you closer than ever, you lean over to make sure your grandma gets plenty of cabbage kim-chi and warm sauces with her rice, helping her whenever necessary. By the time you sit back down, your bowl already is full of food. You glance over at the culprit.

Heeseung just shrugs when you raise an eyebrow, muttering a thank you before digging in. 

“I hear you’re planning to attend the same university as Heeseung.” His mother’s words cause your eyes to widen, choking slightly on your bite before you feel someone’s hand on your back. “You okay, ____?” And the mirth in his eyes tells you he finds your reaction funny.

You shake your head in earnest, feeling yourself lose even more passion for school. She continues, reaching for some grilled meats with her chopsticks. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? You two are basically neighbors, and you’re always super hard working. Maybe Heeseung could learn a thing or two, since I hear so much about how you help out your grandma.”

You’re pleased to hear she likes you, but it all comes out at once, and her confessions leave you in surprise. You glance over at the boy next to you, hoping to gain some wicked satisfaction from it all, but what you see leaves you with a dejected look. Heeseung’s gaze is steely, and you notice the almost glare his mom sends her son after saying it. He feels small, unlike the confidence that surrounds him after test scores or when he got admitted into his colleges. Something doesn’t feel right, and it leaves a sour feeling on your tongue when you try to make yourself bigger than him. 

“Heeseung has always done well. I’m sure he’ll continue to do well both at the bakery and in school.” You don’t mean to disagree with her, but it’s true. You hate to admit it, at least to his face, but Heeseung’s worked just as hard or harder than everyone else. He tilts his head in confusion as to why you’d voice something like that, and you roll your eyes, hoping that he never brings it up again.  

You continue to talk with his mother, laughing at her comments and going along with whatever she has to say, no matter how traditional her views might be. You thank her profusely for the meal, and she waves you off with a bashful look. ‘It’s nothing,’ she communicates through her laughs and small hug when you two are about to leave.

“See!” Your grandma says on the walk back, as you carry tupperware of marinated meats and soup. “Hee isn’t so bad after all.” 

“I guess.” You really have nothing else to tell her, not wanting to ruin the delicate moments between you two as the sun casts down a slim glow. “He didn’t really say much.” 

His mom, however, made you realize just why Heeseung performs at the standard he does- because he really has no choice but to be the best, or to accept failure in front of his parents’ eyes. It’s a corrosive treatment, one that slowly digs away at anyone’s ability to be passionate about truly anything. 

She changes the subject. “How’s the bakery?” 

You want to tell her that Heeseung is annoying, that he runs around always telling you to do things, that he’s always too busy covered in flour and coconut cream to help you out. You want to tell her that you hate Heeseung, and that your quality of life decreases whenever he’s around. He messes with you, sends jokes and digs your way, and you don’t know how to get him out of there faster. 

“Heeseung’s fine. I know he’s a big help to you.” And maybe, he’s become a big help to you, too. 

There is one thing you’re not sure you can perfect- macarons. 

They’re dumb, take so little ingredients yet such precision- and to be honest, do they even taste that good? In your personal opinion, they’re nothing amazing, and honestly, the scraps of chocolate cake that you don’t use for cake pops serves you well. 

The night before, you and Heeseung both mutually agreed to stay for a bit longer, starting on the macarons so neither of you would mess up tomorrow morning in a rush. It’s a large order, and you get them relatively often. You try to get tips from your grandmother the night before that, writing them down in your phone and making sure you listen to every piece of advice she says. You write down the last thing in your notes, ominously typed out in bold text. “don’t overdo it.” it reads, and you stay up watching videos on how other people make them look so perfect. 

Staying late for the shift meant you shifted your routine by a few hours- showering later, eating a bit later, and sleeping less than you should’ve. You were tired already, but the extra work only added to it, making you feel less and less confident in every piped macaron. 

The alarm reads 8:00am, a criminally late hour if you want to get to work on time. Sending a quick apologetic text to your coworker, you rush out of the house, driving as carefully as you can to make it there while scraping as much time off as you can. Rushing in, you see Heeseung, leaning over and assessing your yellow batch. If the grid you used was supposed to be a 5 by 11 sheet, then there should be 55 macarons- but you notice, in a few places, there are missing confections. 

One culprit. “How childish do you have to be to eat the ones I’ve made?” The immediate accusation has Heeseung looking up at you, straightening his back to narrow his eyes. 

“Some of your macarons were hollow shelled.” 

“What, so you go and throw them away without even asking me?”

Heeseung hates how the mood is immediately dampened, finding himself getting more heated around you. “We literally need 25 of each- only four of yours were hollow- I had to start making another batch because I didn’t want to risk mine being hollow, too.” He tries to explain, tapping his fingers on the counter. Your skin feels hot- how dare he mess with the batch you already worked so hard to pipe and fold? If you were to fish out the shells from the trash right now, you would be positive that they weren’t even that empty. You grab one of the tools from near the sink, going to inspect his red ones. 

His attempt to make himself look human is shattered when you notice that none of his, are in fact, hollow like how he presumes they were. 

“You didn’t even check yours!” You exclaim, feeling targeted. 

He rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t even matter who’s batch it was- why do you care so much that I was trying to help you out because you were late today?” 

That- that was your reason. Lee Heeseung once again spelt trouble, by meddling in your macarons when you could’ve so easily examined them yourself. He turns around to start washing the utensils in the sink, as you stand there and seethe. Blame it on the sleep, or on the stress of rushing out this morning, but all of it makes you walk out of the building, feeling the hot tears fill your waterline before they spill and cascade down your skin. 

You worked so hard to make them- and even if they weren’t perfect, even if what he had to say was right, you just wished you could’ve seen it for yourself. You haven’t worked there much prior to the summer, and macarons have always been something you’ve wanted to nail, so to see Heeseung set the standard according to his own feelings and just throw out the ones you wanted to see- well, it hurts. It’s a jab at your pride, at all the effort you’ve put into learning and watching videos, sacrificing sleep to listen to people croak advice after advice on one of the greatest baking feats. It hurts to see once again that you’ve failed to be like Heeseung, and that he took matters into his own hands by assessing your tray for you

Fishing out your phone, you look for one contact to offer comfort. “Grandma?” You ask, sinking down to rest your head on your knees without sitting on the cement. You’re next to your car, not wanting to go through the efforts of finding your keys. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately after hearing your sniffle, and you tell her. You tell her about how your shells were uneven, and how you worked so hard for them, and how Heeseung threw them away before you could even see for yourself. She understands your pain, and tells you that no one can perfect something as difficult as macarons- and that during spring break, she had seen Heeseung go through the same thing. It helps, just a little, to know that he started from the same place as you, too. You calm down with her further reassurance, and wipe your puffy eyes before coming back in. You’re afraid the patrons will notice something’s up, and ignore Heeseung’s worried looks to pat cold water onto your eyelids in hopes of helping them look less red.

He sees all of it- Heeseung Isn't stupid, he knows what he’s done, but he can’t get himself to apologize. And as you knew, he went through the same heartbreaking process, and in his thorough reassessment of the situation, he doesn’t know why he didn’t see it from your perspective until you stormed out. 

‘I'm sorry,’ he writes on the bag of lemon curd he made for your macarons. But it does little to salvage your disposition for today. You ignore him, never asking for any help, or any opinion even in the times you usually would. It’s quiet throughout the whole day, like a gray cloud has dampened the colors in the sky, and you clock out at exactly the right time after everything is done, put away, and cleaned. you refuse to leave a mess for Heeseung to point out, but you leave feeling angry, sad, but mostly, disappointed. 

The next day, you arrive at the bakery to find Heeseung sipping from a dangerously large cup of instant boba and taro milk. His eyes dart up to witness all of your struggling glory carrying a shipment that came to the house instead of the shop. In a hurry, he grabs a few boxes from the top and sets them down on the counter, and whatever you were carrying follows suit. He treats you as if you didn’t fight, as if you two aren’t filling the room with tension the more you steal glances at each other. He grabs his drink, one that he’s prepared 15 minutes ago, and finishes almost another quarter of it in one long sip.

You want to tease him for how much taro he’s had when it’s barely 8 o’clock, but it’s not the right time. Days like this are always slow, only dragged out longer by the silence and lack of tasks. The awkward silence between you two fuels him to grab scissors and start opening the boxes. 

“I thought your grandma might’ve told you I could handle it.” Heeseung comments, refilling the crushed water and oreo toppings. “I was checking the delivery updates pretty often.”

“Not often enough,” you snap. You fight back a glare, and proceed to open up your own box of extracts. “I’m her granddaughter. Maybe you should go enjoy summer with your friends. Don’t you have a beach trip to thirst trap at or something?” It’s meant to be an insult, but Heeseung quietly chuckles, finding it a little funny. 

“Yes, we are having a beach trip soon. But i already told your grandma I’ll work in the morning before your aunt comes to take over.” You frown, wondering why your grandma never reaches out to you and asks you to help.

With emphasis on the syllables in his name, you fire back, “Let’s be clear, Heeseung, she wants my help much more than she needs yours.” He glares, stirring a cup with his eyebrows furrowed and lips curled down in distaste. 

“I’m sure that’s why she was so enthusiastic about coming over to our house and talking to me.” It’s your turn to scowl, and you’re afraid Heeseung’s comments will only take years off your life and produce wrinkles on your face much quicker. 

“Funnily enough, I heard she didn’t want you working there at all.” You cross your arms to look at him as a way to further your point. 

He responds defensively. “Yeah. as if.” Even the way Heeseung rolls his eyes at you is annoying. “She just wants me around more than you.” 

You can’t feel offended, especially when his tone is so light. It probably isn’t even true- how much your grandmother prefers Lee Heeseung over you, just like anyone else. The feeling burns you and you shrink away from the heat of the sudden fire accompanied by the implications of his words. Heeseung catches on to the sudden shift in your demeanor. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean that.” He tries to apologize, watching you carefully.

The flames leave you angry with his response, feeling once again belittled by him. “Bullshit. Are you glad you’re the favorite for every single person you know?” 

His eyebrows furrow, feeling the bite of your words, and the mood instantly changes. “That’s not what I meant, ____.” 

You roll your eyes. “Of course that’s not what you meant, Heeseung. Of course you’re the one who’s perfect, and I’m simply the one who misinterprets all of it. Of course you have never had a bad intention ever and you are loved by everyone. Why can’t you just go? Do you really have to take one more thing away from me and make it your own?” The years of resentment pile up in the words you throw at him, and the built up wall you’ve created finally shows just why you should despise him so much. “Or was it not your intention to do that either?” 

It’s too early, to be honest, to be fighting like this, and you’re definitely saying things that you’re going to regret. But you’re tired of being second to him- tired of never getting the recognition you so badly deserved from those who you actually wanted to hear it from. You’re tired of never being heard by your teachers, getting grades that swoop right under a certain someone’s. All on purpose. (right?)

Despite the sudden urge to bicker with you about how you think everything is about you, and how you’ve never given him a chance, the boy beside you is observant to how hurt you sound being so vulnerable. Heeseung finds himself trying to rethink the past ten years of shared childhood experiences. He’s never really thought about what he’s done to deserve such resentment from you, but the more he says silent, the more he realizes that he’s always so graciously soaked up praise from everyone, and because of it, you were always left sulking in his shadow. 

“I’m sorry.” But it’s more than that. 

You feel stupid for expecting anything deeper. “Is that all you have to-“

He cuts you off, trying to articulate the words and form reason. “No, there’s more. God- let me just think.” You hear how badly he needs to get it out, and you stay quiet, having let all of your anger out already. 

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m not going to apologize for all of the things I’ve achieved,” he says firmly. “Because that’s never how things were for me- I have no reason to feel bad about what I did.” And you can respect him for standing his ground in a situation full of misunderstanding. “I never did it to hurt you, and I never did it to get in your face and show I was better. But I’m sorry for hurting you unintentionally. I’m sorry I never realized that those things were just as important to you, and I’m sorry for always assuming the worst when we’d talk. I’m sorry I never apologized, and held all of this against you, and made this thing between us worse than it was supposed to be. And, I’m sorry, too, about the macarons. That was stupid. I really should’ve known.”

You feel overwhelmed, your mind trying to undo the years of built up feelings towards him under the assumption that he meant to do those things. “I thought you did it because you genuinely didn’t want to see me happy. Like that time you did the extra credit in biology just so you could score better than me.” You breathe, words coming out without really realizing what you’re saying. “Or like that time in first grade where you spilled your applesauce on me, and never apologized. I kept thinking, what the fuck did I do to deserve it? What had I done to make you feel like we had to compete?” Your open ended questions continue to resonate within your co-worker’s mind, and the more you ramble, the more he sees just how twisted he looks. 

“In first grade, that was because the boys said I’d get cooties if I went to talk to you. Believe me, ____, I tried. But every single time I try to fix things between us, you never let me, I swear.” 

It’s your turn to be confused, swearing that you never saw him apologize. “When have you ever tried to be nice to me?” 

“I tried to let stuff go. Like all the little things we’d say about each other- I tried to understand why you were always so unhappy around me. But you always said I was meddling in your business or that I just wanted to find another way to get under your skin.” 

It settles, then, the realization that you’ve turned him into the villain a bit more than you should’ve. You know there’s always been mutual dislike- there are certain times where you know Heeseung had it out for you, with his sneers, his comments or the way he’d smile at your defeat- but you weren’t a saint either. There were other times that maybe, he wasn’t out to get you, but you were always so consumed with the idea of hating Lee Heeseung that you hated the idea of him being a decent person, too. 

“I’m sorry,” You say, leaving your emotions to witness. “I really should’ve paid attention to your genuine efforts back then, too.”

And you’re not the only one who’s at a loss for words this time. Heeseung is in uncharted territory, unsure of how to process the way you’re apologizing, and being so open. And he’s antagonized you too; made you out to be a mood killer and party pooper in every event imaginable, despising the idea of being around you because you two always disagree somehow. 

“But, why do you do it? Why do you come here if it’s really anything personal?” 

He answers in the only way he sees fit. “I want to help her out, she’s always cooked for our family, she’s let me come over a few times, just little things for my family and I. I never meant to take your grandma away from you like that, I promise. She’s just so kind, and she cares so much about me, so of course I want to care for her, too. I just didn’t think it’d be at the expense of you.”

Despite still feeling hurt, you nod, trying to be mature and talking about it rather than burying it deep. “All I hear about is how she wants you to come, and how she never needs my help anymore because she has you already volunteering. It’s like I barely mean anything to her.” Your words sting for Heeseung, but not because there’s any anger directed at him. Heeseung feels a pang of relatability in his chest, the inability to ever be enough for those around you gnawing away at your self-esteem. 

He shakes his head, begging you silently to understand. “She doesn’t want you to work so hard.” He starts, running a hand through his hair. “She tells me about how she’s worried if you’re eating, or if you’re stressed. She’s watched you through-out your whole life, ____. All she’s ever wanted was for you to finally enjoy the summer you worked so hard for.”

“I just wish it felt that way.” You admit.

To hear such high praise from his lips feels foreign- the idea of Lee Heeseung noticing how hard you’ve worked, realizing the amount of effort you’ve put into your standing and accomplishments, it’s weird. You know he understands completely how stressful it’s all been, considering he was stuck to your side the whole time in highschool whether you liked it or not. Lee Heeseung has worked hard, if not harder, than you, and for him to be able to admit that is so much different than what your perception of him would think. It’s awkward to meet his gaze, and his small smile eases the tension a little when you laugh at his attempt to soothe things out. 

“I feel dumb, for thinking so horribly of you. I honestly never thought you looked at me like I was an equal, just someone you could surpass.” He shakes his head, about to reach out and grab your wrist before he realizes just how intimate it would be. 

“You’re not dumb, _____. You never have been. I’ve always looked up to you.” 

There are knots in your chest- the ones that make it feel as tight and hard to breathe as you do right now- that slowly become untangled the more he speaks of you. His words undo them, little by little, and even if it takes a long time to fix the rift between you two, at least you know you have help. 

Internally, your heart begs you to ask. “Why do you even care?” 

He pauses, mulling over his words, and looking for a proper response. “I don’t know.” He sighs. “I just want to, we’ve been around each other since we were kids, and if there was someone who I’d hope to have by my side, whether or not we’re close, it was you.” 

Your breath hitches at his confession, and your mind runs in a hundred different directions, without ever expecting those words to tumble from his lips. You promise yourself to do things differently from now on, not trusting your words to continue the conversation. 

“We should finish unpacking.” And the rest is that. 

When you two leave to go home, the old tension feels different- lighter, almost. As much as you know he would do things to get on your nerves, never understanding just why you were so negative and brooding around him, your perception of him wasn’t the best, either. And still, you may be a bit mad at him, and not exactly friendly, but at least you’ve both let go of the unspoken baggage.  

When you sit in the passenger seat, you’re less inclined to turn away and face the window, and make small talk with the radio on. 

Things aren’t perfect- the years of hurt he’s done to you doesn’t dissipate in a day, but it’s getting better, and you can only hope it continues that way. 

A week passes between the two of you, and time flows easier now that you two talked things out. You don’t dread going to work, and you didn’t refuse when he offered to buy food on the way home a few days ago. Sure, some topics between you two are sore, and you’re not best of friends, but it’s light years ahead of what it was like before. 

You can never truly get rid of the banter between you two- there are clever insults you’ve crafted in your head that you love to see his reaction to, and you’re just the right person for Heeseung to bicker with. 

“Do you ever stop drinking that soy milk?” Your coworker asks. You nurse your cup, keeping it close as you rush to defend your end of shift drink. “You’re like, a baby.”

“It’s lactose free. And a very good basic drink.” You explain, frowning at yet another large cup of taro tea he holds in his hands. “Your drink probably tastes like nothing.” 

He holds it out, and you raise an eyebrow. “Just use the same straw,” he insists. You truly don’t mind, but it’s so weird now to know that Heeseung, like, your friend. But you take a sip anyways, cringing at how your suspicions were right- There’s barely a hint of sweetness in there. 

“Don’t make that face!” He comments when you grimace, and also feels the need to protect his opinion on 15% sweet options. 

“Anyways,” you change the subject, determined to get him to see your sweet tooth ways. “Help me make some creme brûlée for my grandma. I’ve never tried.” And he sets his cup down, and for the first time possibly, Heeseung joins you to do something. 

“It should be easy, right?” He says, and with a look of determination, you set off. 

“Heat the cream.” You tell him, reading the instructions from your phone. 

He retorts lightly, “So rude.” and you turn around to scoff, all in good fun. 

“You’re insufferable.” And he tilts his head, offering you a small pouty smile when he turns on the stove. 

The mood feels so much less stuffy than it did before when he says, “Must suck to always hate me like how you do.” 

“I have an egg yolk in my hand that i’m willing to throw at you.” He chuckles, and peers over at your bowl. 

“You’re pretty good at that.” He notes, and you fight the urge to beam at his compliment for your yolk-separation skills. After he’s poured in enough cream, he grabs the sugar and a measuring spoon, fishing your phone out from beside you and reading the measurements. 

He adds so much less than what the recipe says, and you only know this because when you glance over, the scale reads a number much lower than 65 grams. 

“Heeseung,” You call out, in a playfully stern manner, and the boy in question turns around like he’s been caught. “Bring back the sugar.” 

“We’ve run out.” He says, the lie appearing as a wide smile on his face. Unconvinced, you walk over, and in turn, he holds the jar up out of your reach. You refuse to reach for it, knowing that the boy in front of you is much taller, but also that you don’t want to break the glass with some horseplay.

Your voice goes from demanding to reasoning. “Give it back. God, I can’t stand you and all of your low sugar preferences. The sugar is literally needed for the texture!” He simply shakes his head, walking over to add just one more unmeasured spoonful. “You didn’t even weigh it.” 

Heeseung mocks you- a high-pitched and garbled version that follows the intonation of your words, and you let out a surprised scoff at his immaturity. Getting a whisk, you make sure the newly added sugar is fully dissolved. He returns with the pot of cream that bubbles slowly, with an oven mitt around the hot handle. Without a look in your direction, Heeseung holds out his arm between you and the heated cream, and it really doesn’t do much- but yet, at the same time, it does. It’s something he does subconsciously; and something you do your best not to pay attention to in order to properly reach for the whisk.

He slaps your hand away lightly, and you mumble an ‘ow!’ in response. “Don’t touch that. Let me whisk it. It’s hot.” He reprimands gently.

Yeah, you’re still doing your best not to pay attention to it. 

When the mixture transforms from a deep yellow to a pale banana color, he leans down and checks the side of the bowl for any egg and sugar he’s missed. “Here,” you reach out. “Let me get the pot.” Heeseung glances up, and shakes his head quickly.

“No it’s okay-“ and it happens quickly, the hand that was whisking leaves to swat your hand away, but it instead makes contact with the rim of the metal appliance when he doesn’t pay attention to where his hand is placed. Although Heeseung only hisses quietly at the pain, you immediately feel bad. 

“Just give it to me,” you demand, and pry the pot out of his hand to let him nurse his wound, leaving it in the sink and quickly going to the medicine cabinet for burn relief cream- the same one you used a few weeks ago. After you grab it, you return to him, reaching out your hand and waiting for him to show you the puffy red skin. 

He slowly puts his hand on your palm, and you twist around his finger to apply the ointment, doing your best to spread it without pressing too hard. 

“Thank you.” 

You glare. “Don’t hold hot things if you’re not fully attending to them.” And he puts his hands up in surrender, taking a step back. 

“I’ll be preparing your ramekins, boss.” The nickname has a nice ring to it. 

When it’s done, the creme brûlée comes out with a slight wobble in the middle, indicating a well-cooked perfection. “Grab the blowtorch!” You shove him into the direction of where it is, and he complies. You sprinkle sugar over five of the six dishes, using a spoon to shape the sugar in the last dish into a heart since you thought it looks cute. 

Heeseung comes back from your right, leaning over to watch you intently. “A heart? You make it seem like you’re in love, or something.” He jokes, evading a jab with your right elbow. 

“Shut up.” 

“You shut up.”

“You argue like a-“ you’re about to finish your sentence with ‘child,’ but when you turn your head (in hopes that saying it directly would add more emphasis), you’re face to face with Heeseung, with a proximity between you two that’s far less than expected. 

He takes a quick step away, and you glance somewhere else with a nervousness in your eye. 

Neither of you say anything, not really sure if you should apologize or if he should, and you return to your current task, a small churning turning in your stomach. You take a step back to let him caramelize the sugar, and he holds the blowtorch with his non-burned hand. 

It’s good, is the only thing you think when you crack the sugar and scoop a bit, admiring the texture. When you and Heeseung finished one each, you begin to clean up and wash the equipment you used. 

“It’s late, _____. I’ll take you home.” He states the obvious, and for what?

“How else am I supposed to get back?” You laugh, and in response, he shrugs. 

“Just a reminder as to which one of us is so graciously kind to drive you too and from the bakery almost everyday.”

“If I had a choice, I could’ve easily taken my own car. You know my grandma needs it for her errands. Like her Wednesday bingo night, or whatever.” He chuckles, holding the door open and unlocking the car. 

Being in the same space as Lee Heeseung isn’t as excruciating as how it used to be- and now, it’s just an opportunity for you to finally ask your burning questions. 

“Heeseung, I’m just curious. How did you even meet my grandma?” 

He furrows his eyebrows. “I think it was the mailbox,” he starts, trying to remember. “She dropped her mail, and it blew out into the street, so I went to get it for her. And on the walk back, she just started asking me questions. Apparently she and my mom were closer than I thought.”

“And that’s how you started working?” 

“First, it was community service. Just using the cash register- since we’re cashless, it’s nothing illegal to have me manage orders.”

“And she just thought you were an angel from the get-go, or something?” 

“Who doesn’t?” And you glare, mocking him like what he did to you earlier. Heeseung’s lips curl into a grin at your antics, never taking it to heart. 

“Me, obviously.” And it’s a half-lie, because secretly, Heeseung isn’t so bad. 

“Well,” he starts, motioning. “I don’t think there’s anything I do or could do that you’d like.” 

You splutter, “That’s not true!” And he raises an eyebrow at your indignant words. 

“Name one thing that you like about me.” 

“No!” You refuse, crossing your arms. “You already have a large enough ego from the teachers.” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes at you, tapping his hands tapping on the wheel impatiently. “That’s lame, ____. You’re just further proving my point.” 

With a sigh, you tell him, “I like how you helped us win in Taboo.” And he gives you a look. 

“Cop-out.” 

“What-? No!” Emptying your brain, you try to find something you truly like about the boy who makes life a living hell- or, well, used to (he still kind of does). “Okay, fine. I like that you care about my grandma.” 

Heeseung stays kind of quiet, not really sure what to do now that you’re once again being sincere. “Well, she’s like- the only person who doesn’t expect something from me.” 

Confusion floods your thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“I’m grateful for everyone in my life,” He prefaces. “But it’s no fun having to always work for people’s approval, sometimes, I wish that someone could just appreciate me for me, and that’s how your grandma is. No expectations with her. She’s just happy I’m still around- which, I know, is bare minimum, but at least I don’t have to try so hard for her to like me.” The light turns green, and the car rumbles as he slowly accelerates.

You mull over his confession. “Do I expect something from you then, too?”

“You expect me to perform well, because I always have- and therefore, I have to do well, or else you’ll just rub it in my face.” He states plainly, and you grimace for the second time today. 

“Sorry, I won’t do that anymore.” Heeseung waves you off. 

“It’s no big deal- plus, you weren’t the only one who thought I’d do well all the time. It’s something everyone thought of me. If anything, you were the one who just motivated me to always work harder.” 

“But isn’t that a good thing? To be the best?” 

He shakes his head and when you take a good look at him, Heeseung has a glassy look in his eye. “Sometimes, yes. A lot of the time, no. I just want to do well without anyone forcing that on to me. I don’t want the expectation to be perfect, because then, it’s so much easier for me to stumble.” You don’t realize just how much weight Heeseung carries on his back from the words of his peers and his family. And to you, he resembles a diamond; perfect, but from pressure. 

“Well, from now on, I won’t expect it from you. And if I do better, then I won’t rub it in your face. So that’ll make two people you won’t have to worry about.” The response he gives you is non-verbal, but his change in expression is first laced with surprise, and then silent appreciation.

“Thanks,” he says, once again at a loss for words. “I appreciate it.” 

You send Heeseung a smile, understanding how it feels to always have to do good. You can only hope that he gets his break from the pressure before he burns out. 

“Oh, I should tell you now. I can’t make it next Friday. I have plans, and I’d figure I’d let you know now so you could find someone to replace me.” He announces. When he looks over to see your response, you nod in understanding.

“What are you doing?” 

“Grad party.” Heeseung says plainly. “It’s Jake’s, so if I’m hungover, I’ll try to let you know if I’ll be good by morning.” 

“So considerate.” You comment, albeit a bit teasing. He scoffs, making the final turn before reaching your house. “To be expected from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” He questions. “And what kind of person am I?”

“Someone who’s going to have to work alone for the next two weeks if he doesn’t shut up.” He laughs, his eyes scrunching up as unlocks the car. “Thanks for the ride.” 

“Of course, ____.”

A few days go by, but one morning, you walk outside to see Heeseung parked in his car, scrolling on his phone- and it takes you walking up to him to roll the window down. 

“You didn’t even text me you were coming,” you start, pouting slightly. 

Heeseung pats the passenger side. “Just- get in, will you?” And you comply, never one to refuse a free trip to work. 

“So why today?” You ask, fiddling with your fingers and bag. “You usually never pick me up on Thursdays.”

“Since it’s your grandma’s birthday and all, I figured I could just pick you up, and drop you off. She called me yesterday asking to come over, and invite my parents, too. And they couldn’t come because of a work trip, but I promised her.” 

You stay silent. “Fuck, that’s today?” And Heeseung laughs- not at you, just at the situation. 

He nods, eyes still glued to the road. “Have you decided what you want to get her?”

“Flowers, definitely. Probably these treats she’s been thinking about getting from the store. I have this really nice collection of kitchen appliances that I know she’ll like.” And you’re rambling, but Heeseung makes no effort to stop you. “She loves to peel stuff by hand, but I was trying this thing out in the store and it actually works perfectly. Here, I’ll pull it up.” And he takes a quick look at the overpriced appliance, realizing that you also care immensely, but in different ways. “I still need to get her stuff, though- I’m not sure how I’m supposed to get to the flower shop if they close when we close.” And it leaves you dejected, since you know what flowers are her favorite, and how happy she’d be if she saw them on the table for a while. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Heeseung promises, and you nod, believing his words. 

You close a bit earlier than usual, and Heeseung writes on a small sticky note for patrons to come tomorrow. The bakery closes at 8:00 PM everyday, and usually 30 minutes can’t hurt- or at least, you hope it doesn’t. 

When you continue to anxiously check the clock, he comes to your side, rubbing your shoulder and telling you that “30 minutes is plenty of time.” 

“We have to walk there though, and clean up. There’s virtually no parking there ever since that other place opened up nearby.” And he curses, not taking something like that into consideration. While you might be ending earlier, you can’t just leave anything out in fear that someone’s going to try and break in, but you also don’t have nearly enough time to properly wash the dishes and wipe down the tables and counters. Instead, you both opt for putting away the large equipment and the food, turning off the lights so anyone who looks in gets the impression it’s closed with the lack of displays or people around. Then, you two can come back to finish organizing and preparing for tomorrow. 

His reassurance is easy to listen to, and Heeseung’s ability to figure out a plan is comforting in and of itself. You’re grateful he’s even willing to come with. 

“You can just wait in the car, really-“ 

Heeseung looks at you like you’re mad. “We talked about this,” he pressed. “It’s dangerous to go out alone. I have nothing to do in the car anyways.”

Finally, you shut off the lights and start dragging Heeseung’s arm, who’s still taking the key out of the lock as he’s being taken away by your impatience. Setting off in a brisk walk, you continue to check your phone, trying to beat time. Heeseung promises you once more that it’ll be okay, and you ask him what he got for your grandma to change the conversation. You both know her well, and your gifts reflect what qualities you care for most. You realize that Heeseung always keeps others in the back of his mind- like his thoughtful gift to Sunoo, with a handwritten card that Sunoo read a bit of to you guys before Heeseung stopped the further embarrassment. You didn’t realize it then, but the people in his life feel wanted all the time because he has the love to give them. 

You get there barely five minutes before 8:00 PM, and the discontent that washes over the shop owner’s face is apparent. “We’re closed,” she says, and you can’t imagine it’s easy to stay by yourself in a room so stuffy and full of pollen. You walk up to her with Heeseung following behind you, observing the way you practically beg for her to let you find some flowers. You promise you won’t take long, and she sighs, unraveling some of the wrapping paper she knows you’ll want. 

There aren’t many left now that the day is over- and you wonder what kind of people frequent the flower shops. Is it apologetic husbands trying to win over their disappointed wives? Is it children buying flowers for their parents and elders? Or is it people like you and Heeseung, who want to gift it to someone they care about?

“Can you trim the thorns?” And she shakes her head, continuing to ring your bouquet up. You feel horrible, understanding exactly how it feels when someone at the bakery asks for something so grandiose near closing, when your social battery has depleted and you don’t have any more smiles to give. And you know this, but you’re willing to go above and beyond if the shop owner is okay with it. The effort she’s put in already to cut the papers and ribbons to accentuate the flowers is already plenty, but it’s your grandma, and you make sure to come back to support her generously again. 

“Please,” you exhale, desperation and anger mixing in your tone. “I’ll pay extra.” With that, the shop owner sighs, taking your forty dollars and looking up as she opens the cash register. “Just keep it.” You say, in apology for earlier. She doesn’t decline the offer, and slides the crumpled bill into the slot with the rest of them, and ties a purple ribbon around the bouquet. 

You almost forget that he watches the whole ordeal, until the owner of the flower shop mutters a “couples these days” under her breath, and your eyes widen.

With profuse thanks, you grab the neatly wrapped flowers and leave, but the moment you turn the corner, you gawk. “Did you hear what she said?”

“That we’re a couple?” Heeseung brushes it off like it’s nothing. “Yeah. But- what kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t the one paying for them?” 

Heeseung paying for flowers to give to you- it’s a thought that leaves you quiet as your feet follow the same steps you took to get there. Of course he would- and you wonder if you’d ever want to be on the receiving end of it from him- or, actually, anyone for that matter. You’re not sure your mind automatically wants such a sweet gesture from Lee Heeseung himself.

“Thank you for coming, again.” 

“Quit worrying about bothering me,” and it’s like he can read your mind. “Believe it or not, I don’t mind being around you.” His sarcastic comment still holds that undercurrent of honesty, and it’s like he knows just what you need to hear. 

The walk back is much less stressful than the walk to. It falls back to that simple dynamic between two people who have begun to tolerate each other, full of little insults, hits to the side, and laughing. You finally make it back, and the sun paints the sky with swirling blue and pink. The sunset illuminates Heeseung’s side profile as he unlocks the door again, and when you finally pay attention to his jawline, or the gentle purse of his lips in concentration, you come to the conclusion that Heeseung is more than easy on the eyes. 

And as you two clean up, the flowers sit in the passenger seat; a symbol of care for your grandmother, and Lee Heeseung’s time well spent with you.

The trips with leftovers become more frequent, and his parents always remember who you are every time you come bearing gifts. “____!” They exclaim, returning the old tupperware with more dishes on top. It feels like at this point, your grandma cooks for them, and they cook for her just as much. 

“Go bother Heeseung, won’t you? We have dinner in a moment, but he’s been so busy with his work.” You smile at her, curious as to what he even has to do now that school’s over. “It’s the room to your left when you go up.” 

You knock on his door and he yells in response, telling you to come in. Under the assumption that it’s his family, Heeseung goes wide-eyed when he notices it’s you in his messy room with his pajamas and old t-shirts strewn here and there. 

“I did not expect it to be you,” he mumbles, quickly getting out of his chair to fix his covers and pick up a sock. A laugh bubbles from your throat with the way he’s scrambling to make things presentable right before you. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be staying long anyways. Your mom told me to drag you downstairs because you were too invested in your work.” He looks sheepish as he mumbles a quick apology, and after the quick tidying, he shuts his laptop and organizes his desk. “What do you even have to do anyways?” 

“I’m just making music- I started this internship with an entertainment company where they let me shadow a producer and offer input on some unreleased songs for their artists- so I’m just looking at the tracks and making demos.” 

“They let you do that? I figured shadowing wasn’t possible for a company so big.” He nods, a smile dusting his features, and you can tell he takes pride in what he’s accomplished.

You’re about to ask more, but a call of your names from downstairs leaves you two quickly walking down. 

“Have dinner with us!” His dad tells you, and you want to tell him you already ate a bit, but the noodles look delicious, and you agree to only eat a little bit. You glance over at Heeseung, but he offers a small smile as he pulls out a chair for you. 

And so it begins again, but just without your grandmother. 

“____, what are you planning to do in the future?” Heeseung’s dad starts. 

“I’m planning to study Biology in the fall at uni.” You start. “I had an internship last summer before senior year, and I really learned a lot from it, so I knew what I wanted to do by the time I applied for schools.” His mother praises you, as all Asian mothers do, and you can see why Heeseung is so kind-hearted by the way his parents speak to you. 

The conversation naturally switches from your plans to Heeseung’s, as they talk about his pursuit in music production. 

“I’m sure he’s doing a good job, I’m always in classes with him, and there’s nothing you need to worry about.”

His mother continues, however. “I mean, there’s always ways kids can get ahead. I always tell him to apply for things early, and he could’ve gotten more scholarships and finished his internship last summer if he wasn’t so behind. But he’s doing it now, so there's nothing we can say about it.” Her words rub you the wrong way immensely. While your own parents were never the most involved in your high school academics and were supportive of any career path you chose, they never placed an expectation on you to do the best and overachieve. But you get the sense that for Heeseung, no matter how supportive they were, it was never really good enough. It’s torturous.

But, you don’t really know how to respond, humming to ease the growing silence instead. “That’s always true, but I know a lot of people look up to him, including me. He’s doing great regardless of when he does it.” No matter how gently you put it, you know it’s in total opposition to how they think and feel when it comes to their own son, but you can only hope that it helps ease the tension.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly, with the discussion of your summer and how things have been with friends, parties, and planned trips. You finish their food quickly, complimenting Heeseung’s mother’s cooking once again and watching her face light up. 

“You should head home, we don’t want your grandma to be too worried.” His dad starts, and you agree, quick to grab your bag. Heeseung takes the containers from your hand and starts putting on his sandals. “I’ll walk you home.” Despite your refusal to let him carry your things, he insists, and you miss the way his mom stares fondly at you two from the kitchen island. 

The warm summer air gives you the illusion that it’s not so late, and with the way light still peaks from the horizon, you feel less tired the later the summer nights get. 

The boy next to you speaks up first. “Did you mean it?” You sneak a glance at his relaxed posture, a hand in his sweatpants and bangs on his forehead. 

“What part?” 

“Any part.” 

You nod, feeling almost incredulous that he thought you’d make up something like that after you two agreed to be on good terms.

“Of course, Hee- I wouldn’t lie about that stuff, especially not to your parents.” 

“I’m sorry about them, by the way.” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “They have high expectations sometimes, I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable to hear them talk about me like that so openly.” The first instinct you have is to reach for his shoulder, making eye contact with him and offering a semblance of comfort before you walk across the street. 

“No, you don’t need to apologize for stuff like that. I’m sorry your parents hold you to those kinds of expectations.” 

“It’s okay, I’m used to it.” 

“But the problem is, you shouldn’t have to be used to it. You’ve genuinely done so much and you deserve some recognition rather than someone always telling you to do better.”

It goes quiet, but you don’t choose to bring anything else up, enjoying the crickets chirping and the gentle breeze that carries you home. 

You stop outside your door and unlock it, inviting him in to say hi to your grandmother.

“Thank you,” you tell him as he’s leaving. “For walking me home.” 

Heeseung simply shakes his head. “It was nothing, really. Thank you for seeing my parents again and whatnot.” He smiles, waving at you before walking back, and a grin makes its way onto your face before you even notice it. 

Your phone dings at an hour earlier than you expected to get up, and it leaves you in an annoyed mood while you turn off your alarms.

hee: dude you HAVE to come in we just got a huge order for triple chocolate cake they said they’d pay extra if we finished by today

y/n: help wtf r u doing at the bakery 

hee: i was making brownies i asked ur grandma this morning if i could

y/n: what for…

hee: because i had a craving ??? what else..

y/n: oh LOL ok ill be there in 30

Originally, you and Heeseung were going to have the day off, and your aunt and grandma were going to work instead- but the tempting offer from Heeseung leaves you explaining why you have to come in for work, and that they should stay at home. You say anything that comes to mind, but they know you wouldn’t let them come with the way you were dressed and already grabbing your shoes and keys.

When you finally rush to the doors, you see Heeseung cutting into the chocolate treats, and when you two make eye contact, he shoves the piece in his mouth and nods. 

“Gross.” You comment, laughing. 

He says something intangible, and you shake your head, putting on your apron.

The amount of work you two have put in is simply criminal to be fake, and the day off you have is getting darker the longer you two stay.

You voice your concerns. “Do you think they’re lying about the tip?What they told you seems like much.” 

Heeseung shrugs, and sprinkles sea salt over the piece he picks up. “I’d hope it’s true. They seemed pretty desperate. I called them back today telling them their order would be done soon, so if they show up and pay more, that’d be great.” 

“I’m glad you’re so optimistic.” You laugh. 

“I have to be, because you’re definitely not.” Heeseung laughs when he sees the scowl on your face. 

“Oh yeah? I think I’m at least a little better than the time you spilled the tapioca pearls and then talked about how everyone had it out for you that day.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Between the two of us, I’ll always hear you saying ‘fuck, i dropped the spoon’ more.” His teasing has you smiling. 

“Focus on your lettering. Or do you need someone to hold your hand and help you?” You lean over to look at him spelling CONGRATS with brown icing. “You messed up.” Nitpicking, you point out a random loop and make fun of him for it despite it not looking bad at all. 

“I did not!” He huffs defensively. “I want to see you try.” He passes you the bag, and you get a piece of plastic wrap on the counter before starting. 

“Lee Heeseung sucks.” He reads. “Did you seriously write that?” You laugh at how offended he is, and the boy next to you is quick to pull the bag from your hand to start piping. halfway through the word ‘hate,’ you elbow his side, and it causes his letter ‘t’ to be dragged too far.

“Hey!” He runs over, smearing a bit of icing on your forehead before you duck and try to avoid all his other attacks. The laughs bubble from your stomach, the adrenaline causing you two to chase each other around the kitchen. You’re not even sure what Heeseung would do if he catches you, but you don’t want to find out. 

“I think we should package those cakes!” You remind him, albeit as a distraction. He sighs, crossing his arms in defeat before agreeing and heading back over. You narrowly avoid his glare, a wide smile on your face as you hum in victory. It’s a bit past closing, and he makes sure to flip the sign, still keeping the light on. 

The customer rings the phone, telling Heeseung that she’ll be there in a few minutes. By the time you’ve boxed all three cakes and cleaned up any edges, she walks in. You ring her up at the counter, and she pulls out her largest bills, telling you to take the change as a gift. You two both thank her immensely, making sure she can carry the cakes out to her car before closing for the night. 

When Heeseung enters through the front door, immediately you start cheering. “We just got paid tonight, Hee!” 

The boy grins, subtracting the total from the amount she gave, and it’s clear that she was being serious when she said she would pay extra. “I think this calls for celebration.” 

You don’t really have an excuse to see him outside of work, and the idea of being alone in a non-bakery setting feels scarily new. 

And you’re about to make up an excuse about how you have to be home (you don’t), but your stomach makes a low sound, and it serves as an answer in place of your faltering words. 

“I’m thinking Korean.”

You don’t expect to learn something new about Lee Heeseung, until you see him order two bowls of stir fried ramen despite the restaurant serving much more elegant dishes. 

“Ramen?” A glance at the menu has you reading one of the more expensive meals offered. “You could’ve had- I don’t know, their Honey Garlic Short Ribs.” 

He scrunches his nose in disapproval as a testament to how much he adores his instant noodles. “It’s just not the same. We barely have noodles at home, since my mom always insists on making it from scratch or boiling them in those big packages. Never just ramen.” You take a sip of your water, surprised. 

“You don’t have ramen? God, come over more often, I’ll make you some.” You suggest lightheartedly. 

He glances over, taking you up on the offer. “Woah- me, in your space?” You send him a glare, looking away and ignoring his laughs. 

The food comes relatively quickly, and he looks over what you’ve gotten to judge it. “It looks good. Let me have some.” He says, reaching over with his wooden chopsticks. 

You gasp at his suddenness, quick to refuse and to drag your plate away from him as you pick up a short rib and eat it before he can. The meat tastes wonderfully marinated and tender, and you don’t realize that the haphazard way you tried to eat it left some sauce on your mouth. Heeseung glances over with a frown, about to comment on how incredibly stingy you are until he notices there’s red sauce on your chin, and grabs his tissue. 

“Here.” He says, tapping you on the shoulder. And silently, he wipes it off, to make sure you won’t have to walk around with people seeing and saying anything. 

“Oh- thanks.” It’s pathetic the way your throat dries up, and how you force yourself to drink your water and move on. You hear about this only in movies- about male leads you turn to burns and wax poetic about how much they love you. You don’t expect it to happen so suddenly.

“Is yours any good?” You ask, averting your gaze. His fried eggs and boiled shrimp sit neatly on his stir fried noodles, the presentation better than you could ever make it at home. 

With a shrug, he replies, “We’ll see.” He tries some, and you see a satisfied grin on his features. 

“Is ramen really that good, Hee?” His enthusiastic nods tell you all you need to know as you continue eating, your pile of bones growing ever so slowly. You two make small talk, about his recent beach trip, or about you rafting with your friends. He talks of college- about going away and his fears of growing up. You tell him you’re scared to dorm, since you’ve been around your family for so long, and you share each other’s sentiments about the rapidly approaching adulthood you’ll both have to face. It’s nice like this, not to bicker and to argue and to despise him. It’s nice to just exist around Lee Heeseung, and you wonder why you haven’t done something like this before- sitting next to him and being able to talk freely about the interests and questions you share. 

You guess that it was just the timing- you were both always so stressed from school, unable to properly sit down to sort out your emotions. And yeah- summer is a new slate, and this year feels just a bit more life-changing than the rest of them. 

“You eat so slow.” And you shoot him yet another scowl, picking up some rice. 

“You ordered ramen and you eat like you’ve been starved for three years.” 

“Whatever. I’ll cover the bill?” 

Narrowing your eyes, you try to remember if you two had discussed anything about payments before. “No- I thought we were just going to split the bill.”

He doesn’t seem to care too much. “I’ll pay for you, since I couldn’t have done it without you,” refering to all the baking you did today.  

Exasperated, you refute his horrible reasoning. “I wouldn’t have even found out about her order if you weren’t there. Just let me split it.” You reach out expectantly, and he retracts the receipt, clutching it close. 

“Just pay me back sometime for something else,” and it’s the last thing he says before turning on his heel and leaving you with your agape. 

When you clean up and join him in the car, the first thing you tell him is that he’s ‘annoying,’ and ‘so stubborn it hurts.’ 

Heeseung just laughs at you, telling you it’s nothing special- like he’s used to paying for others. And thinking about how many people come in to ask him for his number or hope for a date, your assumption makes sense- that he does these things for everyone, and you’re not an outlier in any way. 

When the bakery is one chestnut haired boy short, things are much less interesting. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me.” You joke when Heeseung begins to undo his apron. 

“You can come,” He offers with a small yet sincere smile on his face. “I asked, you all know each other anyways.” You feel your heart stir with the way Heeseung keeps you in his thoughts. 

All you do is refuse his offer. “I have to rewatch my rom-coms.” You wave him off, and within minutes, you’re left alone. The quiet music plays and the bell jingles every so often as patrons come for pick-up orders or drinks. Thankfully it was slow for a Friday, and you weren’t rushing around the shop.

There’s a girl who’s around your age who walks in, curious as to who’s taking her order before making eye contact with you emerging from behind the curtain. 

“Where’s the boy you usually work with?” She says, getting a list of what her and her friends wanted. “I’ve been meaning to ask for his number.” 

You can’t lie and say you’re indifferent to her question, but nonetheless, you take her order and give her his phone number saved in his contact. “He’s not dating anyone, so don’t worry.” You tell her, handing over the receipt. She smiles, and your heart tightens a little at the thought of Heeseung. One of you two is well-liked, one out of the two of you is perfect in every way, and it wasn’t you. 

Without any of your usual weekly plans with your friends, the drive home was quiet as you figured out what to do for the weekend. You would feel bad every time your grandma had to take a shift despite her recovering quickly, and despite her being excited to work again. When home, you decide to make dinner, change, clean up around the house, and retreat to your old room. The show you were catching up on until the wee hours of night was interrupted, and a familiar contact flashes on the screen. 

“Heeseung?” You ask, confused. It’s 12:00 AM. 

“____-ie.” The line giggles a bit before you hear some shuffling. “My head hurts.” 

You’re a bit shocked to hear him like this, but you’re not going to hang up on him and leave him confused. “Did you drink too much?” You ask, trying to choose your words carefully. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung responds, sighing. “I lost a bet, _____. And I lost cup pong, too.” He sounds dejected, like a hurt puppy as he elongates his syllables and pauses between thoughts. “I was going to tell you something.” 

“That you can’t come in for work tomorrow? You sound out of it, Heeseung.” 

He groans, and more shuffling comes from his side. “Yeah, but I can’t drive, ____-ie.” You cringe at the nickname, but refuse to say anything about it with the way he’s acting now.  “No one else can take me home, and my parents can’t know.” He sounds stressed, and you’re quick to reassure him before he starts crying. 

“Where are you?” 

“You’ll pick me up?” Heeseung asks, his tone filled with elation. 

“Maybe. Depends on how I feel in the next 10 minutes.” 

“I’ll cover your shifts anytime, I’ll drive you home, I’ll buy food for you, I’ll sneak you out…” He continues to ramble about all the favors he could do for you, and you laugh before getting out of bed.  

“You better mean it.” 

“I want to see you.” You know he just wants to go home, you know he doesn’t mean anything else with his words. You know he just wants to sober up and go to sleep. 

You know it’s nothing more between you two, yet your heart still beats wildly with every minute you drive, the words echoing in your head. 

“I got you water, and some food- I have no idea if you ate or not.” Is the first thing you tell him when he stumbles out of the house and into your car. 

Heeseung’s one drowsy blink away from falling asleep, and you have to shake him away to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep with a hangover. “Hee!” You rush to park on a random sidewalk before unbuckling your seatbelt. 

You brush back his red hair, pushing his curly bangs away and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He slowly blinks, adjusting to the proximity between you two. You shove a water bottle in his hand before getting a tissue to wipe the light sheen off of his skin. 

“What are you doing, hm?” And his voice, rough with exhaustion, has you quiet for a moment as your skin gets hot. 

Despite your heart thrumming faster, you force yourself to answer simply. “You’re going to have a hangover.” 

He opens his water, drinking almost a third before he leans back. “My head still hurts.” He whines, and you have to laugh. 

“Here,” you suggest, opening the tupperware of fried rice. “Eat.” 

He refuses, continuing to drink from his water, and you don’t have it in you to be annoyed at him. Instead, you grab a spoon. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” You mumble, starting to break up the fried egg and mix it all together.

After the first bite, “It’s good,” He says simply. “I’m glad I got to see you.” 

You feel the incessant pounding in your eardrums and your whole face feels hot. “Eat, before you throw up.” 

“I missed you.” Despite the harmless intention, you can’t stand to let Heeseung sweet-talk you, and it almost frustrates you to know there’s no weight to his words.

You roll your eyes at him and force him to finish his water. “Sober up before you get home.” 

In the quiet of the night, in the small neighborhood with everyone asleep, no one would know about the loudness of your chest, about how his eyes still hold his twinkle as he gazes tiredly at you, letting him dote on him. 

You continue to make sure he drinks and eats, and you’re so engrossed in taking care of him that you don’t realize how little the distance is between you. Making eye contact with him leaves you stunned into silence, but Heeseung says nothing to dispel what’s between you two. He reaches up, his palm cupping your jaw, and you swear, past the alcohol, there’s the faint fresh scent of the ocean, one that you recognize from being around him so often. 

You hold your breath, keeping the box in your steady as you wait for what he’s about to do next. He stares in silent question, glancing only to your lips and back up. It’s like time doesn’t even pass anymore, like a moment written in eternity when you brush away some of his hair.

You swear you’re about to kiss Lee Heeseung for the first time in your life. 

Instead, you cough and duck from his intimate stare, and he pulls away. The heat of his thumb still lingers on your cheek, and the way he looks at you doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“You’re feeling better, right? I’ll drive you home.” 

The wind whips against your window and the streets lay bare as you turn into his neighborhood. It’s all you can do. You can’t be in love, not with Heeseung. 

Heeseung texts you profusely the next day, apologizing before he leaves the house to see you in person. ‘i’m sorry if anything happened last night, please let me know if I overstepped a boundary,’ and despite his words being through text, your mouth feels like it’s dried up, and that you have no idea what to tell him. You send him something vague about driving yourself, nothing that alludes to how your heart raced and skipped a few beats, and how you still think about the gentle way he caresses your jaw. 

How are you supposed to pretend things were the same? Like you weren’t watching him, like his gaze wasn’t with care, and his touches were not electric. How could you pretend that you weren’t slowly falling for Lee Heeseung?

“Did I,” He starts as he rushes through the door. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Shaking your head, you continue to crush up the cookies in their topping container. “I just don’t want to bother you with driving me around anymore.” 

“But you’re not a bother.” Heeseung can barely recall what happened yesterday, and he doesn’t know what caused your sudden lack of interest with your texts from the morning. “Look, ____-” 

In a desperate attempt to push down your unreturned feelings and return things to how they were, you cut him off. “Heeseung, drop it.” 

The day stretches for an eternity, and Heeseung knows something’s wrong. As one last chance to fix things before he goes, he speaks up. “Please, what did I do?” 

And you want to oh-so desperately tell him that last night, you were about to kiss, that the distance between you two was so finite and the way he looked at you had your stomach churning with butterflies. That somewhere, you realized just how similar you two were- that Lee Heeseung understood hard work, he paid attention to the little things, he related to and comforted you in the times that you felt like you were never enough. And those are just the handful of reasons why. You never knew just how well you truly knew him until you evaluated the years you’ve spent together. Some things you pick up subconsciously; like the way he fidgets or nervously smiles when a girl asks for his number, or the way he always looks back at you when he rejects her advances. It’s weird how quickly the knots that made your relationship so complicated suddenly untangle. It’s really just this long windy string that connects you and him, and within the miscommunication, it’s gone awry. 

You and him are in the same vein, and with how much time you spend with each other, it’d be criminal if you didn’t slowly fall for the way he sings along the radio or how he started to open your door. He cares, in all of the minuscule tiny ways that make your heart ache so terribly. “Nothing, it’s…” It’s almost sick how your mind immediately wanders to some stupid scenario where you and Heeseung ended whatever was going on between you two, and you admitted feelings to each other. Heeseung drives you around in his car, Heeseung comes to your house with baked goods he made himself, Heeseung’s eyes glitter when you two get good scores on a test, telling you how happy he is. “It’s just nothing.” You tell him, not really sure what to make of your feelings at all. And while your emotions towards the boy are new and fresh, they're so real- it snowballs fast.

“It’s not nothing if something’s changed between us.” He reasons, a look in his eye begging you to explain. 

“It should be nothing, Heeseung. We’ve never gotten along, so what’s the difference now?” The words leave a burn on your tongue, and you hate the way Heeseung looks away for a moment before he agrees. 

“Right.” He says, monotone and lifeless. “Why bother?” 

And you’re angry with yourself for the way you nod, taking your things. You want to scream in his face that you’ve begun to tolerate Lee Heeseung, in more ways than one. You don’t just tolerate him- you appreciate him, you care for him, you want him to be yours. 

“Okay- Hee, wait.” You falter in your decisions, your heartstrings pulling you in an enchanting way towards him- against all rational. “I’m sorry.” You can’t let a good thing go, you can’t risk never talking to him again, simply because you don’t know what it’s like to live life without him. You see him in every memory, in every class photo, and you can’t bear to be the reason you two stop talking- all because you were too scared to speak your mind.

He turns around, waiting for you to continue, crossing his arms as he proceeds to lean against the counter. If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit that Lee Heeseung is one of the most attractive people you’ve met. 

“Do you mean it?” You ask, feeling foolish. He should be asking you that- after what you’ve just told him.

Heeseung takes a step closer, his gaze on the ground as he nears the cash register, slowly closing the distance between you two.

“Do you mean it?” He asks, his voice small. There’s still space between you two, and it feels like oceans apart. And you soak up his words for consideration, truly questioning if you did. 

“No, Heeseung-“ You stare at the blinds, looking around the space only to realize just how secluded you two were- that no one outside of the bakery would know just what loops and hurdles you two had been through to get here. “I could never. I shouldn’t have said it.” 

“Is it true, then? That we get along, now?” His slow steps finally leave the crunching of his shoes in front of you, and you nod your head. And after he sees your confirmation, he continues. “How do you feel about me, ____?”

Your surprised gaze meets his, and you see the small smile on his lips, and the almost playful look in his eye indicating that he’s not really hurt anymore.

“I hate you, Lee Heeseung.” You say, emboldened by his teasing. “I hated you for spilling all of that applesauce on me when we were eight, I hate how you get along with everyone, I hate how you act like you’re better than me.” You pause, to think of more, but his hand reaches up to cup your chin, pointing up to make sure you’re looking at him. 

“I hate all that humming you do at work,” you start, your voice small, feeling shy now that he’s forced to make eye contact (which is extremely attractive and turns your legs into jelly). “Or your piping skills, or how good your macarons taste compared to mine.”

Heeseung is so dangerously close, like how you were just last night. “What else?” He goads you on, wanting to hear just how much more you have left. 

“I hate everything about you,” You barely murmur above a whisper with him being so close to you. “But I’d hate it if you didn’t return my feelings, either.” 

He smiles, finally hearing you admit the very things that’s been plaguing your relationship with the idea of more. 

“Anything more to add?” 

You scoff, reaching up and tangling your hands in his hair. The last thing that reaches Lee Heeseung’s ears are the words, “You’re so annoying,” before you crash your lips into his. 

Your kiss with Heeseung satisfies a longing that’s lasted for a while- to know what it felt like to be so close to him, to kiss his rosy lips just once. It’s tantalizing- the way you can’t pull away, and the way he doesn’t let you with how his hand rests on your lower back to pull you closer. When your hold on his hair loosens slightly, he gingerly lets you lean back. Your forehead comes to rest with his as you open your eyes, letting out a slow breath as you think about the ghost of his kiss on your lips. He’s hesitant to separate from you completely, and rests his hand on your waist instead. 

You smile, biting your lip so you don’t giggle like an excited girl who’s just told her friends about a measly interaction with her crush. Your heart feels like a floating balloon, and your lips stretch into a grin, prompting Heeseung to smile at you, too. 

An idiot. That’s what you both look like. But when Lee Heeseung presses a small kiss on your forehead and intertwines your fingers, you couldn’t care less. 

“Heeseung, stop piping heart macarons, it’s embarrassing.” He rolls his eyes at you and adjusts the piping bag with red macaron batter inside. 

He mimics you childishly, and you want to scoop the lemon curd to plop on his head. “Stop piping heart macarons, yeah, okay, so why do I see you eating them?”

“I don’t. I’d never.” You’re lying, and you both know that, but Heeseung entertains your false narrative a bit more. 

“I’ll have you know, the lady at the law firm a few blocks down came here earlier and ordered some of them.” He retorts. You stick your tongue out at him and continue to mix the drink you’ve been preparing.

“What does she want them for, hm? I can imagine she’s in the season of love in July.” He laughs at your childish comment, continuing to pipe out almost identical hearts onto the baking sheet. 

“Maybe she loves her partner so much and wants to shower them in affection.” He grins, alluding to your relationship. You want to flick him across the forehead, rolling your eyes and walking over after finishing your drink for a to-go order. 

With an elbow on the counter, you watch him from the side as he diligently fills in the heart outlines. “You’ve always liked my macarons, though.” He reminds you. “Remember? You said it when we k-“

“Can you shut up about that?” You cut him off, feeling embarrassed. “It was like- a month ago.” 

It’s your exasperation that fuels him to tease you further. “It was a good kiss, was it n-“

You bump his shoulder, and he messes up one of the macarons, pausing before looking up at you. “Hey!” He whines, frowning. “These are supposed to be for that lawyer, remember?” 

You roll your eyes, and you know when Heeseung lies through his teeth. “Yeah, yeah,” You mutter, using a clean finger to wipe at the edge to make it look nice once more. You play along with his lie. “And we definitely fell in love because of cupid.” 

my baby is done!! as always pleaseeeeee let me know what you think!! even if it is just 'hdefhjfhds' that means the world to me!!!

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[msmk11]

Best Friend’s Mom

MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy’s best friend)

Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Word count: 5k

CW: Age gap (legal), best friends’ mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, consumption of alcohol, mention of absent parent, light smut

Summary: You get invited to spend spring break with your best friends Tommy and Billy Maximoff and their mother, Wanda. But Wanda is not just any mom you soon discover. She’s a MILF. And god do you want her badly. Only in your wildest dreams could she ever be attracted to you too- or so you think.

A/n: It’s finally here per your votes on my poll! This is only part one of (probably) two however. A) I’ve never written for Wanda before so I’m having a harder time saying what I need to succinctly. B) I have the fattest crush on Wanda so perhaps this is just my rambles. I hope you enjoy!!

When your twin best friends Billy and Tommy had invited you on their beach family vacation over spring break, you had obviously said yes. The thoughts of sand between your toes, the warm sun on your skin, and the calming crash of the waves sent a shiver of excitement down your spine every time you thought of it. Of course, you were also just excited to spend time with your best friends, but the beach was at the forefront of your mind. Though your daydreams had already crafted a vision of perfection for this trip, the reality, surprisingly, far exceeded it. This was all thanks to one sinfully sexy Ms. Maximoff.

From the early budding of your friendship, you knew that Billy and Tommy adored their mother- especially since their father had left them all behind at a young age. Their descriptions made her seem sweet, loving, and remarkably kind. While your first introduction certainly reassured these claims, it was her beauty that struck you. Perhaps in your head you had imagined someone a little more….motherly looking… rather than the mortal goddess before you. With the way her auburn hair fell down past her shoulders in waves, her blue skinny jeans hugged the curve of her waist just right, and her soft, pink lips were always adorned with a smile, you were certain she was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

When you, Billy, and Tommy pull up to the beach house in their small gray sedan and a redheaded woman, who you assume to be their mother, comes out, you are dumbfounded to say the least. Before her boys can even get their luggage from the trunk, she sweeps each into a bearhug and exclaims, “hello moya lyubov!”

Their unconvincing protests fall on deaf ears as she continues to smother them in love. You’re sure to tease them about it later.

When Ms. Maximoff breaks away from Billy and Tommy, she turns her attention to you and smiles sweetly. As she makes her way towards you, your heart begins to beat quickly as you realize how beautiful she is.

“Hello, dear,” she greets, “Billy and Tommy have told me all about you.”

Before you can respond, she too pulls you in for a hug. The burn of her touch, even through your shirt, is almost too much to bear, and her flowery perfume that fills your nostrils makes your head feel all woozy.

As she pulls away you can feel your cheeks burning and you try to act calm despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Maximoff, and thank you for letting me stay with you all this week.”

“Oh honey, no. Please don’t call me Ms. Maximoff, it makes me feel old. Wanda is just fine. And the pleasure is all mine, really. I’ve been eager to meet you ever since you became friends with my boys at the start of college.”

“Well, I’ve uh- been eager to meet you too. Billy and Tommy speak very highly of you.”

Wanda nearly coos as she turns to her sons brightly, “Awe moya lyubov, you two are too sweet.”

Your best friends flush red with embarrassment and the glares they shoot you as their mother hugs them again let you know they’ll berate you later for making them “look uncool.” Finally, Wanda pulls away and she urges you all to grab your stuff and follow her into the house.

Once inside, Billy and Tommy kick off their shoes haphazardly and start down the hall to the bedroom they’re sharing (so you can have a room to yourself). You, conversely, slip your shoes off gently and leave them by the door neatly. Wanda waits by your side and then motions for you to follow her once you’re done.

On your way to your room, Wanda gives you a mini tour. You pass through the small kitchen with light wooden floors, white cabinets, and seafoam blue walls. The living room is similarly beachy and charming, with big glass doors opening onto a wooden porch in the back and a smattering of brightly colored furniture organized around the room. At the end of the hall from the living room sits three doors, each leading into a separate room.

“Here we go, honey. Your room is this door on the left, the bathroom is the door in front of us, and my bedroom is here on the right. I hope you don’t mind being my neighbor and sharing a bathroom with me, but I figured it’d be better for the boys to have the master this week since they’re sharing a space,” Wanda tells you.

“No of course not Ms. M- Wanda. I feel bad that Billy and Tommy have to share, though. I honestly don’t mind sleeping on the couch!”

Wanda reacts as though you’ve just slapped her, “Oh honey, no! I’d never make a guest sleep on the couch! I want to make this place as comfortable for you as possible. Plus, the boys will be just fine. They spent the first half of their lives sharing a room, they’ll manage.”

You chuckle a little and smile kindly at her, “Well, thank you, seriously, I appreciate it.”

She waves her hand as if it’s nothing and then motions for you to go see your room, “I’m going to go finish up dinner honey, but let me know if you need anything.”

Wanda saunters off down the hall and you curse her for even walking sexily. Shaking yourself out of a daze, you go inside your room and promptly shut the door behind you. You drop your bag on the floor and then throw yourself on top of the fluffy, blue comforter, groaning into the mattress. You really hope you can survive this trip.

*****

It seems you must’ve fallen asleep on the comfy bed that feels more like a cloud, because suddenly you are jostled awake by a body landing on top of you. You let out an oomph as the air is expelled from your lungs and the weight of Tommy’s body settles on top of you.

“Tommy, you big lug,” you groan, “get off of me.”

You push the boy off of you and he rolls onto his back, “Had to wake you up somehow, you freak. I kept prodding you and nothing happened besides your continued snoring.”

“I don’t snore!” You protest, propping yourself up on your elbow and looking at him.

“Do too” he teases, “mouth open and all.” He then opens his mouth dramatically and lets out an obnoxiously loud snore.

You smack his stomach a little and he groans. In retaliation, he sweeps your elbow out from under you, forcing you to fall flat on your back again.

“Prick,” you grumble.

“Hey you should be a lot nicer to me, you know. I could’ve left you here to sleep and starve.”

You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, “I doubt your mom would allow that.”

The brunette snorts, “Touché.” He stands up and nods his head towards the door, “let’s go eat.”

You and Tommy make your way down the hall to the kitchen, playfully teasing and shoving each other a little on the way. When the longer-haired brother gives you an especially playful push into the kitchen, you nearly fall right in front of Wanda. You’re a little more than embarrassed, so you try to hide your face from her by turning back towards Tommy and glaring. He’s smirking until he’s not- when Wanda gently chides him for “being rude to the guest.”

“Mom she’s our friend, she can take it,” Tommy reminds her.

“Plus,” you add, “I can take either of them, easily, any day. I was just caught off guard there.”

“Really now?” Billy challenges.

You hum in confirmation.

“Fine, then I suggest a game of chicken after dinner.”

“Who’d be our fourth player?” you ask, confused.

“I will,” Wanda answers with a slight smirk, “I love a good challenge. And I’d love to see you beat my boys.”

“Oh you’re so on, Mom,” Tommy answers with a grin.

The twins look at each other with evil, cocky smirks on their face, and you can tell that they’re confident they’re going to win. You look at Wanda nervously because a) you don’t want to lose to the twins and b) you don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of her. Her confident smirk, however, so similar to her sons, eases your fears just a little.

They come storming back after dinner, however, when you first see Wanda in a bikini. Though you wouldn’t say it’s skimpy by any means, for goodness sake she’s around her sons, it still certainly shows a lot of skin. The butterflies are beating around aggressively in your stomach as you admire the red swimsuit she’s wearing- the color compliments her skin tone so very well, the top shows just enough cleavage to leave something to the imagination, and the bottoms hang low on her hips, flaunting her soft, white stomach.

You become even more nervous when you realize that you are going to have to sit on top of Wanda’s shoulders. While Billy and Tommy jump into the pool, you cautiously discard your towel on a chair and turn to Wanda, “I didn’t even think about the fact that I’d have to be on your shoulders. We can just call off the game, I’ll probably be too heavy for you.”

The redhead shakes her head and chuckles, stepping a little closer to you, “Honey, I know how chicken works. I wouldn’t have offered to play if I didn’t think I could carry you. I’m a lot stronger than I look, you know.”

You want to believe her, but you are just so nervous about hurting her that you can only weakly smile and nod.

“Hey, are we playing chicken, or are you two too chicken?” Billy calls out mockingly.

“Oh we’re more than ready, boys,” Wanda answers confidently, hands on her hips.

She walks forward and slides down into the pool, the turquoise water riding up to her waist. She beckons you over to the edge, “I’ll stand here and you can hop on, since I know you’re a little nervous about getting on my shoulders.”

You take a deep breath and nod. Wanda turns around and you step forward. Tentatively, you hook one leg over her right shoulder and her hand immediately comes up to grab your thigh. You tense at the skin to skin contact and it sends a little shiver up your spine. Thankfully, Wanda can’t see your face, so she hopefully just assumes that you're nervous about getting on her shoulders and not for….. other….. reasons.

“You’ve got it, honey,” She encourages you sweetly.

You quickly lift your other leg up and hook it around her left shoulder. She grabs your other thigh tightly and squeezes it, as if reassuring you.

Problem one million- Wanda being this strong is really hot, adding to your already insanely high level of attraction towards her. You fear you might pass out on the spot.

“Good to go?” The redhead asks you softly, craning her neck a little to look up at you. Her green eyes are soft but determined and they send a surge of confidence through you, “Yes, I’m ready to take them down.”

Wanda easily wades through the water over to Billy and Tommy, who have situated themselves with Tommy as the anchor and Billy on top. You look your opponent in the eye and smirk, sending him a playful glare, “You’re on, Maximoff.”

Billy only scoffs at you cockily and then waves you forward, challenging you to go up against him. Wanda and Tommy move in towards one another and you stick your arms out, bracing for Billy’s attack. He comes in swinging, bringing his right arm down to your side trying to shove you off. You are braced for it, though, and Wanda’s strong grip keeps you in place. You retaliate by grabbing his wrists, simultaneously trying to keep him from hitting you and also jostle him around. After a few seconds of back and forth, Billy rips his left arm free, the force causing you to wobble a little.

“I got you, honey,” Wanda calls up to you when she hears the sharp breath you take.

You shake it off and head towards Billy with double the amount of determination. Letting go of his other wrist, you go for the shoulders and give him a hard shove. This alone does not push Billy off of Tommy’s shoulders. However, the former twin’s movement throws the latter twin off balance, sending them plummeting backwards into the water. They land with a loud splash and you and Wanda cheer loudly. When the boys come up for air they are spluttering and groan at your victory.

“You two are stronger than you look,” Tommy concedes.

“Never underestimate your mother,” Wanda chides teasingly. She then looks up at you, “do you want me to take you back over to the edge to hop off?”

Your newfound victory, especially with Wanda on your team, has caused your confidence to soar. You shake your head, “No that’s okay, you can just drop me in the water.”

The redhead smiles sweetly, “If you insist.”

Before you have a second to think, she is lurching backwards, sending you both crashing into the water just as the twins had. The water is much colder than you anticipated and it overcomes your senses as you flail around. When you breach the surface you let out a gasp of air and shake the water from your eyes, “Holy fuck that’s cold!” you shout, then immediately cringe for cursing in front of Wanda.

Luckily she only chuckles, an evil glint in her eye, “You asked to be thrown in, honey. I was only doing what you asked.”

“A little warning would have been nice,” you answer with a playful pout.

She only laughs again, her head thrown back a little, and it’s quite the sight to see.

*****

The next morning, you wake to soft, yellow sunbeams falling across your face. The sound of gentle waves can be heard just slightly through your window at the back of the house and you sigh contentedly. You could get used to this. After laying sprawled across your bed for an undetermined amount of time, you finally decide it’s time to get up. You wander down the hall into the kitchen, on the hunt for food, and find Wanda sitting at the kitchen table, book in one hand, coffee in another, clad in a silk, white slip nightgown.

“Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?” She asks sweetly.

“Like a baby.”

“I’m glad to hear it. What can I make you for breakfast?” Wanda asks, already rising from her chair.

“Oh, Wanda, no. Please. You don’t need to make anything. I can just snack on something for the pantry. I don’t usually have much for breakfast anyways.”

Wanda tsks at you and waves you off, “Well that just won’t do honey. It’s more important than ever for you to fuel your body at this age- what with all the studying, busy work schedules and… other things.”

Wanda winks at you then and you choke on your spit a little. Had she just implied…? No, she couldn’t have. But…

“Yes, well, school and work keep me busy enough to not have time for other things, Wanda. And I make up for a light breakfast with more filling meals later.”

It seems as though Wanda ignores the latter fact as she asks how you like your eggs and pulls out a frying pan.

“Well, honey, I really can’t believe what you’re saying. Someone as beautiful and sweet as you must be overwhelmed with social obligations- parties, friends, dating.”

You try to hide the blush on your cheeks from Wanda’s flattery, “No really, Wanda, I don’t have all that many. And I’m happy with my small group of friends.”

“You know,” Wanda starts, turning towards you as the eggs cook, resting her back against the counter, “I have to ask, and I hope you’ll excuse me for wondering, but I wanted to know if you were seeing or were interested in one of my boys. You just seem awfully close and I can’t help but wonder…”

You burst out in laughter at the heinous suggestion and Wanda’s eyebrows raise in bewilderment, “Oh god, no. Never in a million years would I date them.”

Wanda purses her lips and you realize how that sounded, “Please don’t take that the wrong way, Wanda. You’ve raised such lovely boys, you know. And I love them dearly, but not like that. They’re like my brothers. And even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t go for them. Or any guy for that matter… I like women.”

All the confusion and maybe even a little defensiveness drains from Wanda’s face at your confession and she visibly relaxes. She turns back to the eggs and picks up the pan, “I see. Well, the boys are grateful to have you in any way they can.” She walks over and sets the plate down in front of you, “And that makes me pretty grateful too.”

As she stays behind you, Wanda tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver.

“Thank you, Wanda.”

“My pleasure, Detka.”

*****

The tension is so thick it is unbearable as you sit on a chair across from Wanda. At this point, you know it isn’t hot enough outside for you to be feeling this flushed. Rather, the way Wanda keeps looking over at you not so sneakily as she nurses her wine is leaving you all hot and bothered. When she takes another sip you are entranced by the way her soft, red lips wrap around the rim of the glass. And when she pulls the cup away, a drop of the wine is still on her lips. You nearly gasp as her tongue darts out, seemingly in slow motion, to lick it up. At this point, you know your staring is obvious, but Wanda just looks so pretty in that sundress, and one too many glasses of wine has left you feeling a little reckless.

“Want another sip?” Wanda muses teasingly, pointing the glass towards you.

“Oh no, I’m okay, Wanda, thank you.” You answer softly.

“Come on detka,” she says huskily, “just come have one more sip. I don’t think I can finish it alone.”

Really, you can never say no to this woman, so you oblige, standing from your chair and walking over to sit down next to her. Her perfume wafts over you as she leans in and hands you the glass, and you feel woozy.

You take a sip of what little wine is left in the glass and swallow as Wanda watches you the whole time. You turn to the redhead and hand her the glass. She sets it on the table without once breaking eye contact with you.

“Oh Detka, you have a little drop of wine on your lip. Let me get that right-“

She reaches out and cups your cheek. Instead of wiping it away with her thumb like you think she will, she leans in and captures your bottom lip between your own. She sucks on it softly and you nearly moan. Before you can really process what’s happening, she’s pulled away, a knowing smirk on her face, “There baby, all better now.”

“W-Wanda- I.” You stutter.

“Hmm?” She asks, sickeningly sweetly.

“Can you do that again?”

“Do what again, baby?”

You almost whine at her teasing, “Kiss me, Wanda. Please.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she whispers, already pressing her lips to yours again.

You sigh deeply as the flame rekindles in your belly and your heart beats faster. Your kisses are fast and sloppy, your tongues battling for dominance. Keeping your lips on hers you shuffle, straddling your legs on either side of her lap as you wrap your arms around her shoulders.

Wanda groans and grabs your hips tightly, digging her nails into the slight bit of bare skin showing as your shirt rides up.

She tastes like chocolate strawberries and wine and you chase her lips like you’ve been starved for days. Wanda just smells so good, and feels so good, and tastes so good that you’re insatiable. Unknowingly, you rock your hips a little, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through you at the friction between your legs. You moan into her mouth and try it again, this time rolling your hips more aggressively. Combined with Wanda’s kissing, it feels really good.

“Careful Detka, don’t start something you can’t finish,” Wanda warns lowly.

You pull away suddenly, gasping for air, “Wanda, I want this. I- I want you right now. I need you.”

She looks at you intently, those green eyes both soft and loving while also glazed with lust, “you sure, baby? There’s no going back after this.”

“Please,” you say, this time really whining.

“Start with my thigh,” she orders.

You lean back in and kiss Wanda again like before, but this time with the repeated motion of you humping her thigh, chasing your own pleasure. Wanda’s hands slowly travel down your sides, one stopping to grope at your breasts while the other makes it’s way to cup your ass. The added stimulation to your ass and tits makes you moan into her mouth again.

She pulls away and shushes you quietly, “gotta be quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to hear.”

You nod meekly and bite your lip to keep any more moans from slipping out. Wanda takes the chance to place her lips elsewhere, assaulting your neck and exposed collarbone with bites, licks, and sucking. Before you know it, you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, tension building in your belly. Maybe it’s the pace of your hips, or Wanda just has a sense for these things, but she can tell you’re close. Before you can get there, however,

“Wake up. Stop sleeping the day away.”

You are rather rudely awakened, you think, by Billy. His wet hair drips onto your face as he hovers over you, “Come swim with us and quit being boring.”

“But I’m getting my tan on,” you whine.

“You can do that in the water,” he retorts.

When you don’t make any sign of movement, Billy huffs, “You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?”

Before you can protest, the boy grabs your waist and pulls you up, flipping you over his shoulder.

“Billy,” you screech, “Put me down!!”

He ignores you and starts off towards the ocean. You smack his back and flail your legs but that doesn’t stop him. Before you know it you are met with a blast of ice cold water as he flings you into the salty ocean. When you burst to the surface spluttering you send Billy the biggest glare.

“You’re dead meat Maximoff.”

You quickly wade through the water towards Billy and lunge forward. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down into the water with you. You’re a mix of flailing limbs under the water. You get an elbow to Billy’s face and him a blow to your stomach before you both swim upwards and gasp for air. Tommy is there, laughing at you both, so you and Billy share a sneaky look before grabbing him by the ankles and pulling him down too.

Though you may have been peeved at Billy for throwing you into the water, it does feel rather nice on your hot skin. It also curbed your rather lusty thoughts of your best friends’ mother. The three of you stay out in the ocean for awhile, play fighting, throwing a football and diving for seashells. It makes you feel like a bit of a kid again, and you notice the recent stress of exams, school, and work fading away.

After a few hours at the beach, the three of you make your way back to the house. You drag your gear- sunscreen, towels, snorkels, and the likes to the back porch and collapse on some of the patio furniture. Tommy wanders inside for a moment and returns with a few beers for you all to share. As you sip and make light conversation, Wanda appears from the house, a tray of snacks in hand.

“How was the beach moya lyubov?” She asks, setting down the tray in front of you three.

“It was great, Mom. You should’ve joined us,” Tommy replies before stuffing a few carrots in his mouth.

She takes the fourth chair, which happens to be next to yours, “I wanted you all to have your fun. Plus, I’ve been to that beach plenty of times.”

“Next time though,” Billy tells her and Wanda smiles a little.

“Yes, next time.”

You reach forward to grab a cracker off the tray, and you’re not unaware of the way Wanda’s eyes follow you. You lean back again and munch happily on your cracker, trying to not be self conscious under the woman’s stare.

Suddenly, Wanda reaches out and pulls on the strap of your bikini top, “I like this swimsuit, honey. Where’d you get it? I’m looking to buy some new suits so I can throw out my old ones.”

Wanda’s deliberate touch excites you, and you keep your legs crossed to hide the way your thighs sort of squeeze together.

“Uh Target, I think. The boys got their trunks there too.”

She hums softly, “It’s so hard to find flattering suits nowadays don’t you think? Either they’re two thin pieces of fabric that cover nothing at all or they’re boxy, ugly one pieces that do no one any favors.”

You groan loudly, “tell me about it. I think Billy and Tommy almost left me behind when we went shopping because of how long I was taking. Not that I blame them, though I told them it’s also not my fault there are so few good options.”

“Mom, one swimsuit had fur,” Billy says with a shudder.

“Another looked like a disco ball,” Tommy adds, “like are you going to the beach or a strip club?”

You all burst out laughing at the sadly true comparison.

“All I can say is that I really was lucky to find this swimsuit.”

And as you lean forward to grab another cracker you swear you hear Wanda mutter under her breath, “Lucky for me too.”

*****

Much of the rest of your afternoon had been spent on that back patio talking, snacking and playing cards. Dinner had been light, and with a few booze in your body you were feeling pretty good. You’d wandered off to shower after dinner, wanting to get the sunscreen and sand off your body. The hot water and soap in your hair feels amazing, and you are appreciative of the privacy to process all of the thoughts and feelings from the day. You still haven't gotten over the comment you are sure Wanda had made earlier. A part of you wonders if you’d just made it up, your horny mind so desperate to believe that she finds you attractive too. But even though it was just above a whisper, the words echo in your mind loud and clear- “lucky for me too”. How could you make that up?

It feels wrong and, frankly, rather inappropriate to pursue your suspicions further. Wanda could’ve meant anything by what she said.

Maybe she was grateful that you bought that swimsuit, so now she knew where to buy hers too?

Maybe she was grateful she didn’t have to be subject to some ugly swimsuit you’d have been forced to wear.

Or maybe. No. You couldn’t even let yourself consider the possibility of Wanda being attracted to you. That would be a bad idea that would only get you in trouble.

You decide there is only one way to solve the problem.

After your shower, you slip out of the bathroom into your room only scantily clad in your small towel. You firmly shut the door behind you and drop your towel, making your way onto your soft bed. You lay on your back, head resting against the pillows, and spread your legs a little. You’ve been desperate to ease the ache between your legs for hours and you can’t wait any longer. You hope that maybe, if you do this, your horniness will dissolve and you can go about your business the rest of your trip happily.

As your hand trails lower between your legs, you sigh at the pressure very much needed to cure the intense ache. It feels good, really, but you only wish it was Wanda’s hand instead of your own. You shut your eyes and your breaths become heavier as you indulge for a moment, imagining that Wanda was here. You think about the way she’d say your name huskily, how her perfume would invade your nose as she held you close, how her fingers would know exactly how to make you feel good, and in no time, you’ve reached your high. Though you try to be quiet, you can’t help the semi-loud pleas of her name that leave your lips as pleasure wracks through your body.

You collapse back against your pillows, panting and your hands at your side. You can only revel in your bliss for a few moments before there is a knock on your door. You scramble up, your heart beating fast in your chest, feeling as if you’d been caught. You throw on your pajama t-shirt at the end of your bed, and it just barely covers your ass. But you figure it will work well enough to answer the door. You rush over and pull it open, and are shocked to find Wanda on the other side.

“Hey, Wanda, what’s up?” You ask breathlessly.

It’s then that you notice how her pupils are dilated, and that she has this look in her eyes. One so reminiscent of your dream.

“You know if you needed help, Detka, you could’ve just asked. I’m more than happy to help someone as pretty as you.”

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE HUSBAND x GN CELEBRITY!READER

— based off of a dream i had of a childhood friend/crush. hiatus not over tho lol.

— morally bankrupt reader. clingy husband. the usual yandere stuff.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who was your childhood best friend. Your parents shipped you two since you could speak.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who had a crush on you since forever. He doesn’t even remember a time where he didn’t get butterflies and an aching need to be the only one close to you

YANDERE! HUSBAND who’s the biggest flirt. He knows you the best. Although you were completely oblivious. He’d always try to be around you, compliment you, tease you.

He’d give you matching keychains, and would beg his parents to buy whatever gift he’d think you’d like.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who sadly had to move away for a while. He comes back during high school. And the first thing he asks while he’s there? To be put in the same class as you.

Now that you two are older, you finally started to notice how much of a tease he was. Always grappling unto a piece of your attention.

You acquiesce and begin to date him. Not necessarily feeling anything for the guy but thought it was high time that you finally settle down. It was the perfect storyline you could share once your ambitions were fulfilled.

That and cause your parents would only let you go to acting school if he married you.

Which you two eventually did before college. Was it rushed? Definitely. Did you even love the guy? Nuh uh. But you had places you had your sights set on. And he was the only path.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who drops out to be your full time househubby. His parents could always give him a job at their corporation anyways. There was no real pressure for him to study and get a job.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who almost always supports your acting career. Watching all your shows, movies, and interviews. Basically buying out all the merch you featured in. And paying advertisers across the globe to have your face plastered everywhere.

YANDERE! HUSBAND who unfortunately stops you from having any romantic or sexual scenes. Essentially blocking you from any roles that could be your breakthrough just cause it could have a tiny kiss or so.

Your anger at his blatant attempt to have control over you began simmering. Ever so slowly reaching the surface. Not improving at all when you found out he’d been trying out a job that his mother gave him.

Fuck the gifts. Fuck the yachts and cars he’d swarm you with. Why did he get to do what he wanted and you didn’t?

So you follow him to work once, only to catch him in a compromising position with a coworker.

You didn’t care about him or his business beneath the sheets really. So you had to thank the gods above that you knew exactly what and how to do the following act.

Cry. Scream. Throw things at them.

The coworker already left. Shuffling as they tried to hide from your anger.

Your husband is unresponsive. Catatonic. Even more of an excuse to hurt him.

You call him filthy, uncaring, the worst man to ever exist. Hell, even some of your true feelings come out as you yelled about how you regretted ever being with him.

You find out later from his mom that he had been framed. That this coworker was just trying to get money out of the heir.

Still, you wanted out. He had already served his purpose and you needed to expand your horizons.

A week later of radio silence from him as you prepared the divorce papers he walks in.

Covered in red his hands caressed your face,

“You called me filthy did you not? So I cleansed myself with their blood.”

[xxsabitoxx]

Pale Blue [Part One]

Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader

READ PART TWO HERE

Warnings: THIS FIC IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you are not caught up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga, or at the very least if you have not seen "gojo's past" you WILL be spoiled. This story contains darker themes, heavier topics, pregnancy and all the lovely details of it, and lastly explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk!

A/N: Here it is!! Part One!! This fic is super self indulgent for me and I'm very excited for y'all to read it. The idea literally came to me in a dream like a month ago and I woke up and immediately started writing. It's been a long ass time since I've written a plot heavy fic, and it's been well over a year since I've actively planned a multiple part story and gone through with it. So, this fic is kinda like... my baby lol.

Word Count: 19k | Playlist

September 2007

Your mouth felt like chalk, hands trembling ever so slightly as you set the small wand on the countertop in your bathroom. You couldn't think straight, but that unfortunately wasn’t anything new, it had been that way for the last three weeks. Ever since he left, you had felt like your head was stuck in a fishbowl. People eyeing you with pity at the world you had been dropped into, their whispers muffled into incoherent nonsense as you walked by. Satoru was no better off, but he could at least tug his emotions off of his sleeves and place them in his heart where nobody could see them, except for you. At least you would be able to see them if he didn’t shut you out. 

Not that you had been any kinder, you had withdrawn too. 

The only one who seemed alright was Shoko, her reaction to Suguru’s deflection was nothing out of character. Not many things could shock her to her core, even something as absurd as what Suguru had done couldn’t wipe the gentle smile from her face when she saw him again. You envied her for that level of composure. You envied her for getting to see him again, just as you envied Satoru. For some reason, the man evaded you as if you were the plague. Or perhaps it looked like you were merely chasing after a ghost, a figment of your imagination. You kind of wished that it was true, that Geto Suguru had been someone you conjured up in your mind. 

But he wasn’t, he was a real, breathing human who had taken over one hundred lives…. Including his parents. The thought made your mouth taste like metal, everytime you zoned out too long and thought too hard, you’d bite your inner cheek until it bled. Three weeks later you still felt like you were moving on autopilot, the only thing that could pull you out of it would be his gentle embrace. You blinked a bit, the metallic taste coating your tongue as you unclench your jaw and look in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, for a moment  you think you look just like him, and it's enough to steal the little air you had in your lungs. 

You had never thought you'd experience a heartbreak as severe as this one, and you especially didn’t think it would be dealt to you by Suguru. Though you saw all of the signs, the hundreds if not thousands he put out and never let you touch. No, his cries for help were always directed at Satoru. The white haired man never seemed to catch them, and if he did, he never said a thing. Suguru had refused to acknowledge his issues when he was with you, no matter how many times you tried to sit him down and get it out. He’d change the subject and move on. 

He’d sweet-talk you, making you forget why you had been so concerned in the first place because there, for a fleeting moment, was the boy you had fallen in love with two years prior. He’d fill your mind with nothing but good things, pretty noises, good feelings. Not stopping until his name was all you could utter, not stopping until you fell asleep in his arms, content and sedated. He was a master at avoidance, trying so hard to keep things perfect just for you. You were beginning to hate him for it, but even the idea of hating him made bile burn your throat. 

You were left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through your mind, it was never truly directed at Suguru. Rather the jujutsu world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel. You especially felt that bubbling hate for a certain man by the name of Fushiguro Toji, who caused this whole spiral. He was long gone now, Satoru had effectively put the man down and he would not be getting back up. Though it killed you to no end that he got the easy way out. You almost wished that Satoru had kept the man alive. 

You couldn’t stomach it as your back pressed into the cold wall of your bathroom, arms folded over your chest as you stared at nothing in particular. Eyes refusing to focus on anything of importance but making a point to avoid the developing test on the counter. 

Suguru had left you a note, shortly after his final conversation with Satoru. You had returned to your dorm to see it on your bed and you recognized his handwriting before you even read your name on the envelope. You could still feel your hands trembling as you ripped the paper, flinching as it cut your skin, crumbling as tears dripped down your cheeks. You read it three times before finally comprehending the words, the paper littered with tear drops and your blood. Every word was written with care, you could hear his voice as your eyes passed over each sentence, see his face before you as if he was speaking. 

It was an apology, his resolve and a goodbye all in one. Leaving you more empty than you had felt before. Still, it sat on your nightstand, you couldn’t throw it away. As if his sweaters weren’t still hanging in your closet, like the blanket he got you wasn’t still sitting on your bed. You held onto that letter like it was the last thing you had of him. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing and walking around within the very city you were in now. You almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least you’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a form of torture for you. 

To know that you could bump into him at a restaurant, or even pass him on a busy street. He wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and everyone else behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Still, you couldn’t hate him for that. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of your broken heart. You were fairly certain nothing would, the only cure was the one man you could no longer call your own. You’d spend the rest of your life with your heart ripped wide, an empty void filling the space. 

You inhaled deeply, pushing off the bathroom wall and taking a hesitant step towards the counter. The test was upside down, you couldn’t see the small little window that would show you the results, for a moment you wanted to pick it up and throw it in the trash without even looking. There was nothing stopping you from doing so either, but you held back anyways. The only reason you were taking a pregnancy test in the first place was because your period was two weeks late. You could easily chalk it up to stress, but at the same time you knew all too well that you and Suguru often went without protection. Idiot. 

Somehow, despite his inner battles, Suguru’s sex drive never slowed down. Maybe it was the craving for physical touch or maybe sex was a great way for him to forget about his issues for a while. Regardless, you had always been eager to oblige, even if it meant falling into his traps and luring your attention away from the real issue at hand. You had no idea how long it had been and if the damn thing was positive you were sure it would show up by now. So you picked it up and flipped it over in your hand, tired eyes scanning it. Your forehead creased for a moment, eyes squinting in frustration because you couldn’t tell if there was a second line or not. 

If it’s positive, it's too early to tell. Your grip tightens around the small plastic test, anger flooding your heart as you chuck it in the trash can with such force it rattles as it hits the wall. Once again you are left with uncertainty. It seemed nobody could give you a straight answer anymore. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted that test to say. The thought of being pregnant with his child would have elated you two months ago. Now the thought made your insides twist and turn, for a moment you thought you were going to puke again. At the very same time, the idea of the test being negative felt like a rug being pulled out from under you. 

As if you didn’t know that feeling well enough. 

In a twisted way, you thought that being pregnant would bring him back to you. As if it would erase every heinous crime he had committed and bring the man you loved back into your arms. You were foolish, but not foolish enough to really believe in those daydreams. You hauled yourself out of your bathroom and back into your dorm room, falling into your disheveled bed with a soft thump. His t-shirt was hanging loosely on your body, it still smells faintly of him. It’s the only shirt of his that you’d been wearing, too afraid to lose his scent on the others. 

It was still early enough for you to sleep for a few more hours before Shoko was knocking on your door and hauling you into the world. You hated it, but she assured you that you’d thank her for it in a couple months. You doubted it, and for some reason you felt like she did too. 

Your sleep was dreamless, it had been since Suguru left you. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for that or not. Suguru was still the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. His absence consumed your every thought, impossible to ignore, unable to forget. There had been a few tough nights where you dragged yourself down the hall towards Satoru’s room. The man was usually still up, sitting on his bed with a book in hand that you could tell he wasn’t reading. Just an attempt at distraction. 

He welcomes you without a word, scooting over a bit so you could sit beside him, head on his shoulder as he tosses the book to the floor. You remain like that until you fall asleep, no words spoken but nothing needed to be verbalized to understand you were both mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t even dead. In an odd way, you felt as if you were mourning Satoru as well. His smile, his jokes, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, all of those things had dwindled. To his credit, he was managing to pull himself back together, at least better than you had been. 

A harsh knock at your door signaled that Shoko was there. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep, but you felt even more groggy than you had a couple hours prior. “I’m up.” It’s hoarse and unconvincing but you hear Shoko utter a small “ok”. You know she’s still there, she always waits for you to get dressed and emerge from your room yourself. If you make her wait any longer than fifteen minutes she's usually barging in herself to pull you from your bed. Your body aches as you sit up, stumbling across the room to the bathroom because you need to pee yet again. 

The air almost feels stale as you get your routine done in the bathroom, the test is still sitting in the small can beside your sink. It’s presence is heavy, to the point you question if you should take it out with you despite only having a couple tissues accompanying it. You decided against it when she knocked again. “Just getting dressed.” You mumbled softly, listening for her small “Hmph.” At least letting you know she heard you. Your uniform still felt foreign on your skin, it had for the last three weeks but you tried to ignore it. “About time.” Shoko smiled as you emerged, Satoru beside her. “Oh? You’re both here?” Your tone was questioning but not mad. 

“Yeah, Yaga said we should take the day to be normal or something like that.” Satoru drawled, circular glasses sliding down his nose as he rolled his eyes. “Us? Normal?” You snorted, pulling your door shut as Shoko began walking down the hallway. “He just doesn’t know what to do with us at the moment.” Satoru offered in a low tone, Shoko would scold him for speaking like that, especially to you. The thing is, he wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already thought of yourself. “I don’t know what to do with us either.” You could assume Yaga was being vigilant, the guilt of not seeing what was happening with Suguru was weighing on him too. 

The flick of Shoko’s lighter was heard as you stepped into the morning air, laughter bubbling in your chest as you looked at her. “It was killing you, wasn’t it.” Yaga had been cracking down on her bad habit, trying to limit her by saying no smoking in the dorms. “Just a little.” She teased back, inhaling deeply before blowing the gray smoke past her lips. “Shoko, gimme one.” Your eyebrow cocked as Satoru stuck his hand out. Her eyes met you for a moment before begrudgingly handing the lighter and pack to him. “New habit?” You commented softly, watching as he stuck a cylinder between his lips and held his hand up to block the flame from the wind. 

Satoru shrugged, inhaling a bit before blowing out, moving to hand the pack to you. You hesitated, the test in your dorm trash can still lingering in the back of your mind. “I’m good.” You took them anyway, handing them to Shoko. Neither of them said anything but they shared a knowing glance, they couldn’t be mad at you for trying to quit a bad habit. “So where are we going?” You didn’t like the prolonged silence as the two of them puffed away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere, but if you want we can go get breakfast.” Shoko’s eyes flickered over both you and Satoru, as if she was looking at two temperamental children. 

“Breakfast sounds good.” Satoru offered, shoving one hand in his pocket while the other plucked the cig from his lips. “It does.” You added softly, stomach turning at the very thought of food but you couldn’t let them know that. You had lost your appetite shortly after he left, but you still forced yourself to eat at least one substantial meal a day. The nausea that had settled in your gut most days usually deterred you from anything else but plain rice and maybe some soup. Still, it was food and the only thing you could keep down at that. “Alright, I’ll call for a driver and we can go get something to eat.” Shoko pulled out her phone, clicking on a number she saved. 

“You’ve been eating, right?” You jumped a little, eyes sliding over to Satoru. His tone was low, just low enough for only you to hear. “Yeah, I’ve been eating… you?” He looked the same, tall and lean with broad shoulders. Satoru nodded, pushing his glasses up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “The car will be at the gates for us in five minutes so let's get going.” Shoko started walking, like always you and Satoru followed behind her like ducklings. Satoru’s question still lingered in your mind, his ability to read your thoughts nearly rivaled Suguru. 

You had to wonder just how much those six eyes of his could see. 

The three of you clamored into the car, Satoru taking the passenger seat while you and Shoko took the back. You had no idea where you were going, not even when Shoko gave an address to the driver. It was somewhere in the city, you knew that much, but you trusted her judgment and prayed they would have something plain for your stomach. None of you spoke as the car barreled forward, your eyes glued to the surroundings zipping past you, as if you’d catch him walking down the street on a busy morning. You knew you’d always be looking for him, everywhere you went, your eyes would search for him. 

You tore your eyes from the window, glancing at Satoru in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but his head was turned towards the window. If you had to guess, he was doing the very same thing. Looking for someone who would never appear. Unless you were Shoko of course, you still felt your throat tighten at the thought. You knew Suguru had chosen to reveal himself to her for a couple reasons. One being that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to take him down single handedly. The other being her easy going nature, he knew there would be little to no conflict or questions to answer with her. If roles were reversed, you’d do the same. 

“Hello?” You blinked, looking at Shoko with parted lips. “You okay?” her head tilted, brown eyes lingering over your features. “I… yeah.” You swallowed, the car was still moving so you didn’t space out for that long. “What are you in the mood to eat?” She repeated the question she had asked seconds prior while you were clearly on another plane of existence. “Something plain.” You offered lamely, hands clasping together in your lap. “Plain?” Satoru questioned, eyes shifting to look at you through the rearview mirror. “My stomach has been sensitive. Plain foods are all I can really get down right now.” You shrunk into the seat. 

Shoko hummed, eyes observing you intently now. You could almost hear her silently listing all of your physical symptoms, noting in her head the various things that could cause them. Most could be answered with heartbreak, but that didn’t typically make you sensitive to certain foods. Shoko and Satoru knew of Suguru's relationship with you. They knew you were serious about each other, that you often slept in the other’s dorm depending on the day. They knew you went on dates and bought each other gifts. They knew you had long since confessed your love to one another and were not strangers to holding hands when you thought nobody was looking. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you slept together as well. 

~

“Quiet.” You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, struggling to stifle your noises as Suguru’s fingers curled inside of your tight heat. “You don’t want them to hear us, right?” he cooed again, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he pressed you harder into the empty desk, nearly pushing it into the wall of the classroom with the ferocity of his hunger. 

You shook your head, not trusting your voice in that moment to make any coherent sounds. Your nails dug into his bicep, legs splayed hazardously over the sides of the desk as you used your free hand to brace yourself. Two fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly and sucking the air from your lungs as he found that one particular spot. 

Suguru watched in fascination, dark eyes glazed over as they flickered between his hand and your face. Each draw back revealed the slick shine of your arousal on his digits, each push forward was accompanied by a squelch. It made his throat tight, arousal making him feel hot all over as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. 

“Sugu…” You choked, face warming considerably as you realized how desperate you sounded. “Hmm?” a gentle hum, his fingers burying deep and massaging your walls until your thighs twitched. “I need you.” Your head fell back, hand leaving his bicep to slap over your mouth in an attempt to silence the cry that left you. “You…need me?” 

Those words were jarring to him, as if a chain of firecrackers had been ignited under his skin. You nodded, helpless and at his mercy as you prayed Satoru and Shoko wouldn’t wander off to figure out where the two of you had gone. You couldn’t quite comprehend what happened next, the sudden retreat of his fingers left you feeling empty, clearing your foggy mind for a second. 

They were quickly replaced with something else, something wet and soft. Your eyes widened considerably when you looked down to see Suguru on his knees, hands gripping the plush of your thighs with his face buried between. He would have given you more if it weren't for his damn pants, he was too impatient to struggle with the high waisted fashion choices he made. 

You couldn’t think again, mind immediately fogging over as you focused solely on Suguru’s head between your legs. The flat of his tongue licking up your folds before delving further, bumping your clit with his nose and earning a strangled noise from you. You bit down on your fist now, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to silence yourself for a bit. 

Suguru didn’t mind, if anything he wanted them to hear you. He wanted to see the shocked look on Satoru’s face when he realized what was happening. He couldn’t lie, this whole rendezvous had started because of an offhand comment Satoru made. One about how he was likely better at pleasing women than Suguru. You knew that's why you were in here too, you felt like you needed to thank Satoru for pushing Suguru to this point, whether that was his intention or not. 

Heat continued to build in your gut, if you could trust yourself to stay balanced you would have let go of the desk and buried your hand in his hair. You wanted to tug the silky black locks from the confines of the bun he always kept them in, watch them cascade around his handsome face and turn messy because of your fingers. Then again, that may make it a little too obvious to your two awaiting friends. “Sugu…” 

You gasped, hand flying from your mouth to grab the desk as you nearly lost your balance. Suguru had started to stand, knocking you back as his arms wrapped around your lower half in a bear hug. Suguru was standing at his full height now, your knees bent over his shoulders while only your mid-back and shoulders pressed into the desk. You could have melted into a puddle the moment his eyes met yours, his mouth still pressed firmly to your cunt. 

“Suguru…” You choked again, hands moving to grip the sides of the desk for some kind of grounding. You could feel him smirk, eyes burning into yours as his tongue lavished you. It was all too much, too lewd, too risky. Your orgasm was building faster than you anticipated, the tingling arousal shooting down your spine and making your legs tense as he teased you. You came with a choked cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as you rode out your orgasm. 

~

“We’re here.” You blinked, eyes scanning your surroundings as Satoru got out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get the food to go and head back to campus.” Shoko’s words were out of concern but her tone was still relaxed. “I’m alright, I could use some time in a busy space.” You lied, the quiet of your dorm room had never sounded so inviting. “Thank you.” You muttered softly to the driver, his small smile told you he was well aware of what was going on. Satoru was already by the front door of the cafe, putting out the butt of his cigarette on a nearby trash can before dropping it in. Shoko did the same, following after you as you entered. 

Satoru’s looks tended to come in handy, his glasses sliding down his nose to show the startling blue of his eyes was all that was needed to get the three of you a seat and bypass the wait. “At least you’re good for something.” You teased him, watching him roll his eyes before smiling. “It’s my duty to get the two of you quick service and good food, even if I have to whore myself out.” For some reason, that had laughter bubbling in your chest, the genuine kind. “Such a noble sacrifice.” You laughed, the menu in your hand shaking as your shoulders bounced. You were too distracted to see the way Satoru’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he watched you, for a moment it was like nothing had changed.

If it weren't for the gaping, empty space in the booth beside him, he would have been convinced. 

“What are you going to get, Shoko?” She was the only one actively looking over the menu. “I’m not sure yet, but they do have some options that would be easy on your stomach.” You weren’t sure why but it made your heart ache just a bit, she had been more concerned over your meal than her own. At the very same time, it made you feel small, like you were a bit of a nuisance for having stomach issues… or whatever they were… in the first place. “Oh, alright.” You focused on the menu, aware of their eyes on you as you tried to find something small but appealing. You settled on tamagoyaki and asked for it to be made on the salty side rather than sweet. 

Shoko went for a traditional meal as well while Satoru ventured into their “western” cuisine. His choice sounded so sweet that the thought of it made your teeth hurt. “I don’t know how you do it, Satoru.” you sipped your tea slowly, letting the hot liquid slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. He only shrugged, smiling softly “I’ve yet to find something too sweet for me to handle.” Normally he would have added something flirty but he decided against it. Despite knowing you and Suguru were a couple, it never stopped Satoru’s flirtatious comments. It only bothered Suguru a little bit but he knew his best friend would never cross that kind of line. 

“You may go into cardiac arrest before you meet your match, Satoru.” Shoko snorted, sipping her coffee as she took in the surroundings of the busy cafe. For a moment, you wondered if she was doing what you and Satoru had been subconsciously doing for the last three weeks. “I keep waiting for him to appear.” Your tone was just barely above a whisper, as if even bringing up his existence would cause the world to implode around you. “Me too.” Shoko spoke softly, eyes still looking anywhere but the two of you. Satoru kept quiet, face unusually somber as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’ll eventually go insane.” 

You tried to sound lighthearted but the crack in your voice gave the opposite effect. 

Satoru’s eyes flickered up at that, making your shoulders shrink into the booth. You had quickly come to learn that both of your friends were treating you like fragile porcelain. Though you partially felt the same when talking to them, especially Satoru. Despite the frequent and long nights with each other, little to no words were ever spoken. “I’m fine.” You tried, voice a little stronger than before. “We can talk about these things without falling apart.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than them. Before anyone could speak, the waiter was walking over with your food, effectively stopping any further discussion. 

“Satoru…” You choked as the waiter walked away, eyes focused on the sugary, gooey concoction on the plate before him. “That’s your ticket to the ER.” Shoko was gawking at it too, a bite of food already halfway to her mouth. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a kid on christmas morning, glasses sliding down his nose with a smile on his face. Your stomach grumbled as he cut into the pancakes, the feeling making you jump just a bit. You actually felt hungry, mouth watering as you looked down at your own plate and moved to take a bite. 

Silence fell over the table as you all ate, within minutes half of your food was gone and you were quietly wishing you had ordered something a little bigger.

“You need a napkin.” You laughed softly, handing Satoru your spare napkin so he could wipe the syrup off of his cheek. “Thanks.” For some reason you couldn't help but think he looked like a little kid. For another reason you couldn’t quite explain, it made sadness sink into your shoulders. He should be here with the three of you, eating and laughing and bringing you the comfort you always looked for in him. Your hands shook as you moved to eat more, not willing to let the surge of emotion get rid of the appetite you rarely had nowadays. 

As you finished your plate, you felt the bubbling wave of nausea build in your stomach. You inhaled slowly, trying to find a way to ease your worries and keep your food down. “Are you okay? You look a little green.” Shoko eyed you with concern, not even a second later Satoru was signaling the waiter for the check. “Y-yeah… told you my stomach was sensitive. That’s the most I've eaten at once in the last three weeks.” You couldn’t stand the embarrassment of making a scene or wasting money on the food you had just consumed. “I’ll be back.” You slipped out of the booth, your friend’s concerned eyes zeroing in on you as you disappeared for the bathroom. 

Luckily for you the bathroom was empty, the fluorescent lights making you flinch as you stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. You leaned over it, hands and wrists submerged under the running stream, chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. You were desperate to keep the food down, so desperate you could feel sweat forming on your temple as you tried to focus on anything but the nausea. Suguru’s face flashed through your mind and for a moment you were convinced your knees would give out from under you. 

~

“I told you to take it easy.” He huffs softly, fingers running through your hair as he rakes it away from your face. Carefully, he’s looping one of his elastics around your hair to keep it in place. Your head is still buried in the toilet, you had just finished throwing up for the third time in the last hour. “Are you still with me?” His hand is on your back now, rubbing slow but deliberate circles. Feebly you give him a thumbs up, throat burning from the sting of alcohol coming back up. 

“You didn’t eat much today and then you went and got shit-faced with Shoko.” Suguru stated the obvious, trying not to scold you because he knew you weren’t doing good right now. “I don’t think you have anything else to puke up, do you want some water?” You lifted your head now, reaching for toilet paper to wipe your mouth. “Water sounds good.” Your voice was weaker than Suguru had expected it to sound, his heart aching a bit as he sat beside you on the bathroom floor. 

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just yell if you get scared and I’ll be by your side before you know it.” You nodded, thanking him softly as he got up and disappeared out of your bathroom. You were only seventeen at the time, acting far older than you were and thinking you could get away with it. Now, you are facing the consequences of being naive. Typical for someone your age. Suguru had returned in under two minutes, handing you a glass of room temperature water. “It’ll be easier on your stomach at this temperature.” He chuckled as you grimaced. 

He moved to grab a washcloth from your cabinet, turning the sink water on cold. “And this…” he wrung it out twice before turning off the water “will help focus your attention on something other than the nausea.” He placed the cloth on the back of your neck, watching your shoulders sag in relief as something finally cooled your clammy skin. “Thanks, Sugu.” 

~

“Sugu… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible, tears burning your eyes as you squeezed them shut. Somehow it was working, your pain outshining the nausea as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing in the middle of the restroom. A year had passed since that moment in time, you were only eighteen now and yet you felt as if you had grown a decade. Yet, you were reduced to a scared and crying child because of nausea. Get it together. You forced yourself to straighten, hands slightly numb under the current of cold water. 

You forced yourself to make eye contact with your reflection, observing how stark the dark circles were under your eyes. Shoko had been right, you did look a bit green, but it was fading steadily as everything subsided. You let your hands sit under the water for a minute longer before bending over the sink and splashing some on your face. The door to the restroom opened as you straightened again, Shoko was looking at you with worry. “Did you get sick?” you shook your head, turning the water off and reaching for the paper towels. 

“Managed to fight it off… for now.” 

“Satoru paid already, there is a convenient store a couple shops down. We can get you some nausea meds and a barf bag for the ride back… just in case.” You nodded, smiling a bit. “That would probably be a good idea.” you followed her out of the bathroom and through the restaurant, Satoru was standing on the sidewalk with a new cigarette between his lips. “Damn, you really did develop a new habit.” He only shrugged, inhaling deeply before blowing more out. “I’ll get over it at some point.” Knowing him and his will-power, he probably would. 

“I’ll call for the driver, Satoru take her to the convenient store and I’ll catch up.” Satoru nodded, saluting her with a quick “yes ma’am” before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You didn’t speak until Shoko was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s going to get better?” You appreciated the weight of his hand in yours, though you were certain he could feel how clammy it was. “I think it’ll get more bearable with time.” not better, but tolerable. The thought had your chest feeling heavy as you stepped inside of the small store. 

“Nausea meds and barf bags.” Satoru chuckled, reading the signs above each aisle until he spotted one that seemed like a good start. “You’ll have to see a doctor if this doesn’t ease up… how long has it been going on anyways?” You shuffled behind him, arms crossing due to him letting them go a moment prior. “Shortly after he left, after I found the letter.” Only Satoru knew about the letter that had been left behind. How Suguru managed to get back onto campus and leave it in your dorm was beyond him. You had even let him read it, breaking his heart again. 

“Shoko!” Satoru called, noticing her walk down the aisle before you could even turn your head. “I’m not good with this stuff, what should we get?” Satoru had already grabbed a box of blue cylindrical barf bags for you but the actual meds were basically foreign to him. “I’ll handle it from here, Satoru. You can wait in the car, he should be upfront by now.” Satoru’s brows furrowed, so did yours, but the look in Shoko’s eyes had him shrugging and handing the box to you. “Alright then, I’ll see ya out there.” 

He whistled as he strolled by, your eyes narrowing on Shoko. “What’s this about?” you watched her shuffle through the shelves, picking up one and reading the box before setting it down and moving onto the next. “I don’t know what you mean.” She commented offhandedly, plucking another box and reading it before sighing. “This one should work.” She turned, handing it to you while motioning you to follow her down the aisle. You read it over, nothing out of the ordinary so you truly couldn’t figure out what made this one different from the others. 

You stopped short when Shoko did, eyes scanning the aisle and feeling your stomach drop. “Shoko–” You sighed, she was standing in front of the pregnancy tests. “Listen, I know it’s probably the last thing you want to even think about but I think you should take one.” She was grabbing a box of the cheap tests, the same test that was still residing in the trash can of your bathroom. “Shoko, it's not necessary.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell her you already took one, for some reason you couldn’t tell her it was negative either. 

“I’ll buy them, and you’ll keep them. If this nausea doesn’t subside in like two weeks, I’m forcing you to take them.” You felt your face burning, clutching the nausea meds tightly in your hands as you looked away from her. “Fine.” You sighed, head tilted at her shoes as you followed her up front to the register. Everything was placed neatly in a brown bag so nobody could see the contents. Once in the car, you popped open the barf bags just to keep one ready in the event your nausea returned full force. “I figured you would forget this.” 

You looked up to see Satoru handing you a bottle of water, your lips parting in surprise. “You know me well, Satoru. I did forget.” you took it from him, grabbing the box of nausea meds and ripping them open. You took them and sighed, gulping down water when you realized how thirsty you had been. “If we have nothing else to do today, I think I’ll take a nap.” You were aching for your bed, more tired now than you had been after any missions. “Alright but we’ll wake you up for dinner if we don’t hear from you.” Shoko smiled, cracking the window to light a cig. 

“It’s not even 11am yet.” you snorted. “Yeah but you can sleep like the dead when you really need it, if we don’t wake you, you’ll sleep straight through till tomorrow.” You opened your mouth to deny it, about to use your frequent bathroom breaks as an excuse but stopped yourself. Saying that would only confirm the very thing Shoko was suspicious of. “Alright, fine, whatever.” You resigned with a playful huff, arms crossing as you turned to look out the window. Luckily for you, you managed to make it through the ride without needing to use the bag. 

“I’ll see you later.” You called after them, waving as you headed for the dorms. They both waved back, finding shade under a tree to enjoy more of the sunny morning. You felt your shoulders sagging with each step, your social battery diminished far faster now that Suguru wasn’t always by your side. You had almost grown a bit too dependent on him, thinking he would be a constant in your life. You inhaled shakily, the brown bag crumbling between your fingers as your emotions bubbled to the surface yet again. You couldn't seem to get yourself to your dorm fast enough, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you shoved the key in the lock. 

It came in heavy waves, making you feel weak as you could only succumb to the sadness festering in your chest. You dropped the bag by the door, kicking off your shoes and shouldering off your uniform jacket. Moving on autopilot, you drew your curtains shut and took off the rest of your clothing, sliding his shirt over your head until you were enveloped in his scent. You were gasping for air by the time your body hit the mattress, curling in on yourself as you sobbed. “I miss you.” You hiccuped, rubbing your eyes as if it would stop the tears. 

God dammit, Suguru, why did you have to do this?

You buried your head in your pillow, trying to drown out your own feelings before sadness turned to anger and you ripped your whole room apart because of it. 

~

“Stop wiggling so much.” His voice sounded like gravel, rumbling the back of your head as he spoke. “Can’t help it.” You retorted, trying your best to settle into a comfortable position. Suguru had you wrapped in a bear hug, his favorite form of affection, especially since he knew you couldn’t get out of his grasp. His arms were covered in thick muscles, something you initially didn't expect because his uniform and choice of baggy clothing typically hid them.

 You could use all your strength and his grip wouldn’t falter.  

“Why not?” he mumbled again, if you had to guess, his eyes were closed as he spoke. “Cause it’s warm, Sugu.” you were both laying on top of the covers, little to no clothing on because of the heat and the broken air conditioning that the school was still trying to fix. Nothing but an old fan swiveling side to side to create some sort of relief. Still, Suguru couldn’t sleep unless you were pressed flush to him, warm or not. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Oh it absolutely is.” you immediately countered, turning your head back to try and look at him. “It could be way worse.” he tried again, fingers thrumming against your side. “Yeah, it could, but it could also be better. Like if you let me go for example.” You wiggled a bit, trying to create space before he pulled you tightly to him again. “Nice try, it’s not happening.” You groaned, going limp in his arms as he began to laugh. “I could totally make it worse for you.” He added softly, lips ghosting your ear. Despite the heat, you shivered. 

“The weirdest things turn you on, Sugu.” 

“Hey, it’s not nice to call yourself weird.” 

You slapped his arm, earning another rumble of laughter as he moved to hover over you. “C’mon, if I make you sweat, it’ll make the breeze from the fan feel colder.” You rolled your eyes, studying his features as he looked down at you, hair framing his face and ghosting yours. “That’s counterproductive, you know.” Your hands were running up his biceps anyway, moving to wrap around his neck and pull him close to you. “Maybe it is, but you can’t say I’m wrong.” 

His head was lowering, giving into your pull with no hesitation. “You’re right, I can’t say you’re wrong. But… I want to.” You smile, pulling him further until your lips melt together. He was radiating warmth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip to ask for entrance. Your lips parted, hands snaking up into his hair and tugging at the strands until he groaned. Suguru braced himself on one hand, making the mattress dip just by your head. The rest of his weight was settled on his knees, caging your hips in so you truly couldn’t get away from him. Not that you wanted too now. 

You felt small beneath him, his bare skin radiating warmth as he used his free hand to push your shirt up. You could ignore the heat for the time being, more focused on the steady beating from between your thighs. “Sugu…” You parted with a gasp, watching him lean up and pull you with him, allowing him to drag your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor before pushing you down again. His lips didn’t return to yours, instead they moved to your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you were whining. “Quiet, baby, don’t forget we’re in my room.” 

Satoru was asleep next door, that realization set in like ice water being dumped over your head. “Suguru.” You choked as his head dipped lower, licking along your collarbone before moving to one of your breasts. He wasn’t going to answer you, and you knew that for a fact by the way his lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “You’re evil.” You gasped, hand fisting his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth along your breast, nipping at the soft skin. Your other hand found its home on his shoulder, nails scratching lightly as his muscles flexed under your grasp. 

You sunk your teeth into your cheek when his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, arousal making it pebble slightly as he sucked. Suguru’s tongue lavished your skin, flicking the bud until your back was arching into his touch. It wasn’t nearly enough, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to pry him off and focus on your other breast. “These would look so pretty if they were full of milk.” You choked, eyes wide as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Don’t you think?” You couldn’t breathe for a moment, stunned into silence by his comment. 

“C’mon baby, don’t act so shocked.” He cooed softly, the tip of his tongue trailing up your sternum. He didn’t stop until he reached your lips, kissing them softly before dipping his head again. His hand toyed with the breast he had just teased endlessly, brown eyes observing the rate of your breathing before lowering onto your other breast. He repeated the same motions, nipping and sucking the senstive skin until you were squirming from the wetness between your legs.

“You haven't answered me, sweetheart.”

“B-because I don’t know how to answer that, Sugu.” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you couldn’t form a coherent response for him. “You just have to tell me if you agree, it’s pretty simple.” He chuckled, pushing himself up to look down at you. Your hands fell to your sides, his neck just out of your reach. “Just think about it, pretty girl.” You watched him, completely entranced as he pulled his briefs down and his erection sprang free. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” 

“You have?” You sat up a bit, fingers shakily pulling off your own underwear to save time. “I have.” He confirmed, cheeks turning a shade of red that you could see even in the moonlight. His hand slid along his length, spreading the precum drooling from his tip while his boxers rested at his mid-thigh. “Take those off, Sugu.” You smiled a bit, reaching for the waistband and pulling them taut before letting them snap back against his thigh. “So demanding.” He snorted, letting himself go to push the material off, tossing it to the floor just as you had done with your underwear. 

“So are you, demanding an answer for something so…so…” you couldn’t find the right words, not when his eyes were on you, devouring you whole. “…so what? How does it make you feel?” He redirected, pumping himself leisurely as your thighs fell open for him, still supporting yourself on your elbows as you waited. “How does what make me feel?” A stupid question but you were still reeling from the initial statement. Suguru laughed, hand still gliding over his length as he sat on his knees.

“How does it feel knowing I think about getting you pregnant… all the fucking time.” You couldn’t deny the thought made you feel hot, hotter than you felt from the heat and arousal mixing. Like molten lava was running its way through your bloodstream. “F-feels fucking…” you squirmed a bit, legs moving to close involuntarily until his hand shot out and stopped them. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me.” You sat up, glaring at him with warm cheeks. “How about you fuck me. Then, maybe, I’ll tell you how I feel about your little fantasies.” Suguru groaned, head falling forward for a moment. 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He moved forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he pulled your thighs towards him. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it harshly as he ran the dull head of his cock between your slick folds. You let him move you however he pleased, your legs being pushed almost painfully to your chest as he pressed into you. You gasped in unison, his cock stretching you open easily despite no prep. “Shit…” his head fell forward again, nearly bumping yours as he bottomed out, no space left between the two of you. 

Suguru stayed in place, eyes shut as he focused on the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, unable to stay still. Your nails dug into his scalp, pulling a groan from his lips as you tried to relax but couldn’t. He was big, bigger than any fling or partner you had in the past. No matter how easily your cunt accepted him, it still stung for the first few seconds. You had grown to love the deep ache, the weight of him inside you, the way his tip would brush your cervix depending on the position. Like now, with your legs pressed so tightly to your body. 

“Can I move?” his voice was soft, eyes peering into your own once he gained his composure. “Y-yeah.” You breathed out, the feeling of his hands on your skin still sent shockwaves of arousal through you. Especially when his grip tightened, bracing himself on you as he drew his hips back half way before rolling into you again. You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as Suguru found his rhythm, hips meeting yours with a soft slap. “D-Don’t forget Satoru is…” You wailed softly, pleasure building quickly as he moved. “I know…” 

But the smirk on his face told you he no longer cared, he’d gladly listen to his white-haired best friend bitch and moan in the morning about being woken up by you. Suguru’s rhythm only sped up, hips angling perfectly to brush along that one particular spot as he thrust into you, cock head brushing your cervix every few thrusts until your vision was blurring. The pleasure ebbing through your body was more than enough to block out how uncomfortable your current position was. 

A wet squelch started to emit between your legs, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the fan as Suguru pounded into you. “So…” he started, voice strained as sweat dripped down his temple. “... can you tell me how it makes you feel now?” You blinked, awestruck that he was still hooked on getting an answer from you. “S-suguru…” you whined, head falling further into the pillows. “I’m not letting it go…ha… Tell me how it makes you feel.” he ground out, hips slowing just a bit. When you didn’t speak, he pressed more of his weight into you so one hand could break free. 

You moaned, loud and unrestrained as his fingers ghosted across your swollen clit, the sudden contact making you see stars. “Tell me how it makes you feel.” he repeated, watching your face go slack as his fingers and hips worked in tandem. “Makes me hot…” You admitted with a heavy breath, eyes struggling to focus on him. “I want you to do it, Sugu… fuck me till I’m pregnant.” The look on his face had you shrinking further into the mattress, an almost animalistic look taking over his eyes as he stopped moving all together. “Say it again.” 

“I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m pregnant, Suguru.”  

~

You woke up in a sweat, gasping for air as you stumbled out of bed and barreled to the bathroom. You couldn’t stop the nausea this time, knees hitting the tile floor with bruising force as you heaved into the toilet. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but your dream was enough to send you into a death spiral. Tears burned your eyes as the little bit of breakfast you hadn’t digested came back up. Luckily for you, you had slept long enough that your food from this morning wasn’t a total loss. Nothing more than bile was left as you finally calmed down. 

You reached for toilet paper, wiping your tears and blowing your nose until you could at least breath without difficulty. Aching, you got up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands and face. You had no idea what time it was but you assumed it wasn’t late enough for dinner if Shoko never came to wake you up. At least that’s what you thought as you stumbled back into your dorm room slightly sweaty. That’s odd… The sun had begun to set just beyond your window, your eyes flickering to your alarm clock. 7:23pm stared back at you in big red numbers. 

I slept for over eight hours? You looked for your phone, seeing the missed text from Shoko. 

Shoko: I decided against waking you up, I figured you could use the sleep. Just text me when you’re awake and I can bring you dinner

You were partially grateful for her decision, your face still warm as your dream lingered in your mind. Dreaming of the past, how cliche. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. You had woken up so suddenly, adrenaline blocking out the sleepiness at first. Now, your body seemed to thrum with a dull ache, the headrush coming back around to kick you while you were down. You reached over to turn on the small lap residing on your nightstand, eyes squinting for a moment as you adjusted. Your eyes focused on the brown bag from earlier, the one you discarded on your floor after coming back. 

You knew there was water in there still, so you got up and grabbed it, looking at the bag contents in disdain. You emptied it on your desk, nausea meds, barf bags and the box of pregnancy tests. You studied then as you gulped down some of the water, easing the burn in your throat. The pregnancy tests Shoko had insisted on were identical to the one you took this morning. Weirdly enough you wished she had grabbed the more expensive digital ones. That way you wouldn't have to strain yourself trying to figure out if a second line was present or not. 

“Fuck it.” you sighed, dropping the now empty water bottle in the small barrel you kept beside your desk. You still had one more test in the box from this morning, you’d take another one just because of the memories lingering on your mind. Your face felt warm as you recalled that particular night from a few months back. Suguru had been pretty adamant after that, fucking you raw and in ernest with every intention of knocking you up. You, stupidly, let him because you love him and loved the idea of having a family with him. “Idiot.” 

You scolded yourself again, ripping the foil wrapper and tossing it in your trash with the now empty box. You went through the same process as you did that morning, peeing into a cup and dipping the absorbent end into it for ten seconds before capping it and discarding the rest of the contents. You forced yourself to leave the bathroom this time, convinced it would make time go by faster. The text Shoko had sent was still left unanswered, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel hungry at that moment in time. 

You’d text her in a little while though, or else she’d likely come breaking your door down thinking you had run away. Just then, your phone vibrated with the ringtone you had set for Satoru. You grabbed it, flipping it open to see what he had to say. On the screen there was a message from him, asking if you wanted to hang out on the rooftop to watch the stars later on. You smiled a bit, it was rare for Satoru to ask things so formally. You clicked out a message, telling him yes and that you could use some fresh air. 

It took him no time at all to send a happy emoticon, one that had you rolling your eyes as you typed back that you’d meet him at his dorm when you were ready. You backed out of the chat, eyes lingering on a particular contact, your message to him was naturally left unanswered. You had given up texting Suguru’s number when the messages no longer got delivered. You figured he’d discard his phone, throw away any direct contact he had with the three of you. You snapped your phone shut a moment later, you’d text Shoko after you got dressed.

Opening your closet was still proving to be a bit difficult, especially as your fingers trailed over the material of the clothing Suguru had kept in your room. They smelt like the laundry detergent he used as well as his cologne, it took your breath away for a moment. You forced yourself away, grabbing some comfortable clothes that were actually yours before shutting the door. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to discard his clothing, despite knowing he wasn’t coming back to you. 

You pulled his shirt over your head, grabbing your own and replacing it. You pulled on a pair of shorts after, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. No amount of sleep seemed to help the dark circles under your eyes or the sickly look to your complexion. You could only hope Satoru was right, with time it would become more manageable. You glanced at your alarm clock, 7:48pm stared back at you now. The sky outside your window had turned indigo, the sun minutes away from being completely out of sight. The summer was coming to an end, filling your chest with melancholy.

You couldn’t stand being alone in that moment, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your pocket as you made a beeline for your door. You made your way down the hall, remembering as you passed Shoko’s dorm that you needed to text her. Stopping in your tracks, you figured it would just be easier to see her in person. “Shoko?” you called, fingers tapping the door softly because she hated when people knocked too loud. “Coming.” You heard her rustling around her room before the door opened, a half smoked cigarette hanging from her lips. 

“Thought Yaga told you no smoking inside.”  

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, and my window is open.” 

You smiled, “I’m hanging out with Satoru on the roof if you wanna join us.” Shoko exhaled, puffing just a bit of smoke in your direction. “I’d love to but I spent the whole afternoon with him ‘cause you were sleeping.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck “my bad.” but Shoko was waving you off. “Don’t apologize, you need sleep… I’ll trust Satoru to feed you if you’re hungry.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes “Alright alright, enjoy the rest of your bad habit and I’ll take Satoru duty.” The look in Shoko’s eyes made your smile falter for just a moment. 

They looked oddly wistful, but it vanished just as quickly as your smile faltered. “Aye aye captain.” Shoko started to shut the door as you turned to leave, watching you go for just a moment before shutting it completely. “Satoru.” You drawled, banging on his door so you could be heard over the music he was playing. “Oi, keep it down!” the door swung open a moment later, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked at you. “Ready to go?” He looked cozy in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, sunglasses resting on top of his head. 

“Sure am.” you returned his smile, the ache in your chest easing just a bit. It was more bearable when you had someone who understood the pain you felt deeper than surface level. You watched him turn, shutting off his music and the lights before stepping into the hallway. “Are we going to take the normal way or are you going to test out your blue?” Satoru’s eyes seemed to sparkle as you suggested he use his curse technique. “If you insist on blue…” You couldn’t even make a sound as his arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you off of your feet. 

In the blink of an eye, you were exposed to the cooling night air. “Damn.” You laughed as he set you down, shuffling over to the small lock box you kept up here with spare blankets and, as Shoko claimed, “necessities”...Which were just two cartons of emergency cigarettes. “Didn’t disorient you, right?” Satoru was standing on the edge, observing the glow of the city in the distance. “Not even a little, you’ve improved a lot, Satoru.” your back was turned to him, so you missed the way his eyes widened slightly, cheeks turning pink. 

“Thanks” 

You turned back to him, blankets in hand. “So…” You walked over to where he was standing, taking a seat just before the edge and letting your legs dangle off. “...So?” Satoru looked down at you, watching you settle. “Why did you want to come up here… I’d love to gaze at the stars but it’s not like we’ll actually see any with all the light pollution.” Satoru sighed, dropping down to squat beside you. “I guess I just wanted your company… ya know since you’re probably the only other person that understands this.” his tone was awkward, it wasn’t often that you were sentimental… or serious for that matter… with each other. 

“Your welcome to have my company any time, Satoru. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.” It was so heartfelt it made you feel strange. “Sorry.” You added, a bit meeker than before when he stiffened a bit. “Don’t be sorry, just not used to being so… serious with you.”  He sat fully now, shoulder brushing yours as a silent invitation for you to rest your head. You did, just as you always had, watching the lights of the city a few miles away. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” You spoke in a gentle tone, hoping he knew what you meant. 

“It is. Knowing he’s there, that he’s okay… while we’re sitting here sulking like idiots.” There was a small bite to his tone as he finished, one that quickly left when he exhaled. “It pisses me off.” It made you upset too, anger bubbling in the back of your mind like a pot of boiling water that was going to overflow at any second. “It pisses me off too, because I truly can’t understand it. I’ve killed myself over the last three weeks trying to understand, to make sense of it. I can’t and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s not my place to reason with it, you know?” 

Satoru was silent, waiting for you to continue. “It’s not my life, it’s his. I tried for months to get it out of him, I tried so goddamn hard to get him to open up and he never did. Always redirecting, always avoiding.” You sounded defeated by the end, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision so you could regain composure. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Satoru questioned softly, letting your words sink in like an anchor. 

“He gave you so many signs, Satoru. If you couldn’t see them, it wasn’t my place to assist.” 

Satoru felt like that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. Mostly because you were right, it had been obvious from the start but he had naively pushed them to the side, pretending it wasn’t true. He was just as much at fault, if anything he was willing to shoulder all of the blame. Because at least you tried. He couldn’t say the same, and he knew that far too well. “Suguru made up his mind the moment he entered that village. There is no stopping a man who is set in their resolve. You said it yourself, Satoru. He looked healthier, happier, content.” 

Satoru took in a shaky breath, leaning into you just as you leaned into him. “I just don’t get why he needed to kill his parents.” Your eyes closed, that was the thought weighing heaviest on your mind. “He needed to prove to himself that he was doing the right thing. That nobody, not even his parents, were an exception to his newfound ideology.” It killed you to say it, especially since you had met his parents last winter break. They were kind, at least his mother was. His father was a bit colder but there was still an undeniable love for his son. They had welcomed you so openly, they were proud of the son they had raised. 

Now they were gone, nobody but Suguru was to blame. 

“In a fucked up way, I don’t care that he killed those people.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, but his letter flashed through your mind and for a moment you understood him. Those two little girls, beaten and caged, scared and facing death for things they never did. Hell, had you gone on the mission with him, you may have encouraged his choices. That realization felt weird as it settled in your gut. “I… I don’t really care either.” Satoru admitted softly, thinking back over the last year, thinking about Amanai. He had been seconds away from doing the same thing. 

But Suguru had been his voice of reason, stopping him with a simple command. It should have been obvious then, that Suguru’s life was completely altered from that moment forward. “It was so obvious.” He hissed softly, head falling forward just a bit as anger squeezed his heart. “There is nothing we can do now, Satoru. Nothing we can do will reverse the damage that has been done.” You wished you could believe your own words, part of you wanted to catch a train into the city and barrel into that religious group he took over. 

You weren’t even sure what you’d do if you did. Hit him, yell at him? Crumple into his arms like the sucker you were. Maybe a mix of all three, no, it would definitely be a mix of all three. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw you again. He made it clear in his letter that he loved you, he still loved you, he would always love you. If you made the choice to leave, would he welcome you in with open arms. Or was he resenting you already for not doing so sooner. Was he waiting for you? Or was it nothing more than sweet-talk. 

“You’re not breathing.” Satoru muttered softly, tilting his head just a bit to look down at you. “Oh…” You inhaled deeply, laughing a bit  as you exhaled “got lost in thought.” You felt Satoru relax again, head resting against yours. “I get it.” You fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the sky steadily turned from a deep blue to pitch black. There, if you squint hard enough, you could make out a couple of sparkling stars. 

You knew if you asked, Satoru could probably whisk you somewhere far away. Somewhere clear so you could actually see the stars with no obstructions. 

Yet you were too comfortable, too warm. 

Sitting where you were now was more than enough for the time being. That feeling of content actually took the air from your lungs for a moment, blinking steadily as you took in your surroundings. There was a fleeting moment where your heart felt light, that aching heaviness that had been plaguing it for the last three weeks wasn’t present. You wondered quietly if Satoru felt it too. Given the way his body seemed completely relaxed into yours, you assumed he did. 

~

You were stumbling down the hall like a drunkard. Your mind felt numb as you moved, head tilted down and expression blank. If anyone were to cross your path at that given moment, they probably would have been unsettled by the sight of you. A zombie moving on autopilot, your brain moving so quickly that it had reduced everything to a quiet, droning buzz. 

Murder. 112 people. His parents too. He’s gone. He snapped. He’s a murderer. Suguru is gone. 

Nothing made sense, not a single bit of the information you had received made any sense. The fact that Suguru wasn’t answering your frequent texts wasn't making sense. The fact that you had woken up to an empty bed wasn’t making sense. The fact that people were telling you Suguru, your Suguru, had taken over a hundred lives in the span of one night wasn’t making any fucking sense. 

Your knees nearly gave out the moment your hand met the wood of your door, pushing it open so quickly it slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming back at you. Not that you cared, at that moment you could be set on fire and you wouldn’t blink an eye. 

You stood in the middle of your dorm room, eyes scanning the room as if it were something foreign. Nothing was making sense, not even your bed looked like your own. It was the pressure cracking down on you already, sinking its claws into your shoulders and forcing you to your knees as the weight of your new reality hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry in that moment, too shell shocked over the report Yaga had read to you and Satoru. 

Satoru. 

You had stumbled away shortly after the report was finished, barely registering the way he had started to yell. You hadn’t looked back, but it wasn’t like either of them tried to stop you. Despite having just stumbled away from him, you found yourself moving to leave and find him again. At least you would have if your knees didn’t give out on you. You gasped, more out of surprise than pain as your legs made contact with the wooden floor. You sat there for a moment, arms feeling equally as weak as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. 

You felt your chest tighten, every breath felt strangled as you tried to inhale. A cold sweat seemed to cover your skin, fingers shaking slightly as you pushed your hair from your face. You couldn’t move, completely paralyzed by shock. It felt like your heart was shattering, every shaky inhale deepening the wound. Still, your tears would not come. Not even as black spots began to obstruct your vision, chest heaving as you began to hyperventilate. 

Despite your body vibrating in distress, you felt a nearly silent calm. Like someone had flicked off the switch and stole your ability to hear.

Nothing and everything all at once. 

~

“Hey? Y/N wake up…” You jumped a bit, hand coming up to touch the wetness on your cheeks. “You were crying in your sleep.” Satoru muttered softly, hand smoothing over your hair as he cradled you. “I-I was?” You didn’t even realize the change in position or the change in scenery. You were no longer sitting by the roof’s edge, instead you were sitting in Satoru’s lap, his arms holding you tightly as he looked at you with worry. 

“You were.” he confirmed, letting you go just as you woke up fully. “Sorry for worrying you, I was just thinking about him… it’s so strange. I’ve been having such intense dreams of the past… I've had dreamless sleep for the last three weeks… so why now?” Satoru sighed, watching you get up to stand and stretch your limbs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having odd dreams about him but I don’t really remember how most of them go by the time I wake up.”

“It’s the universe’s way of torturing us… as if we haven’t been tortured enough. Wait, how long have I been asleep?” The temperature had dropped significantly, the moon was shining high in the sky now. “About an hour or so, I was actually going to bring you back inside but you started to cry and… well here we are now.” Satoru got up, stretching dramatically as you sighed. “You’d think after sleeping for eight hours I wouldn't be tired.” 

You walked to the edge of the roof again, feet pressing firmly to the ledge as you looked down. “Being depressed will suck the soul out of you.” For some reason you couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem pretty wide awake, Satoru.” He joined you on the ledge, pushing you a bit to the side. Your training gave you quick reflexes so you didn’t flinch when he did it. “Oh please, you know I’m right.” You glanced at him, laughing softly. 

“You are, but so am I. We can be depressed morons together.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, earning another laugh as you punched his shoulder. “Touche, Gojo” 

“Yuck, never call me that again.” His face had morphed into a scowl as you used his last name. He never liked hearing you call him anything other than Satoru. “Fine.” you crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling the cool air. “I think I’m gonna go shower and maybe make something small for dinner… Just so Shoko doesn’t string the two of us up on a lamppost.” Satoru nodded, watching you step off the ledge and move about the roof to put the blankets away. 

“I’ll accompany you.” he jumped down, trailing behind you as you moved to open the door that would bring you downstairs. “In the shower? I’m flattered but–” the way his eyes rolled were enough to stop you mid-sentence. “Joking, Satoru.” he sighed out an “I know” closing the distance to haul you up. “Using the stairs is boring.” Within the blink of an eye, you were back inside and standing in front of your dorm room. 

“Text me when you’re done showering and we can go get food.” 

You nodded, one of the perks of attending school in Tokyo was the fact that the city never slept. You could go find a place to eat at three in the morning and they’d still serve you hot food. Your body sagged against the door of your dorm after shutting it. Flicking on the lights lit the room in a warm, golden glow. For the last three years you considered your room a sanctuary, it was your happy place after a long day of training. Now, it feels oddly cold. 

You walked over to your dresser, pulling the top drawer open to grab a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas for after. You tossed them on your bed, reaching down for your bottom drawer to grab a particular towel you liked. It didn’t take you long to put your hair up, not in the mood to wash it just yet, and head to the bathroom. You squinted a bit as the nearly white fluorescent lights filled the room, if you had your way you’d change them to something softer. 

It took all of five seconds for your world to come crashing down around you again, eyes zeroing in on the pregnancy test sitting on your counter. I fucking forgot about it…

You set your towel down on the counter, holding your breath as you took the step and reached for the test. You gave yourself no time to prepare, eyes scanning the results once before it hit you like a ton of bricks. You dropped it, letting it clatter on the porcelain counter as a jagged sob ruptured from your chest. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, the other resting on your chest, your heart thumping so wildly you were certain it would burst. 

There, on the test, were two lines. It was positive. 

You nearly fell forward, dropping down to the trash can beside your sink and rummaging through it without hesitation. Your fingers wrapped around the plastic test from this morning, yanking it up and looking at the results again. There, on the initial test from that morning, were two lines. You didn’t drop it this time, eyes staring at the results as if they’d change. Positive, this whole time it had been positive. You just hadn’t let the first test develop long enough. 

“When… How…” You uttered softly, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to be realistic for a second rather than acting so surprised. The irrational side of your brain was still reeling from the revelation. As if Suguru hadn’t been adamant in trying to knock you up for months. “You fucking bastard… you get your way and leave me with the aftermath.” You were struggling, there was no way you’d be able to pinpoint when it happened until you found out how far along you were. For some reason, that was what made reality really set in. 

Hot tears streaked your face, sobbing so harshly that it felt like your lungs would collapse on you. You moved in a blur, legs carrying you out of your dorm and down the hall until you were pushing open Satoru’s door. “Woah there, sounds like someone’s hun…” He looked up, the teasing tone in his voice dropping immediately when he saw the tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” Satoru crossed the room in two long strides, hands cupping your face as your lips wobbled. 

You couldn’t get the words out, crying harder as he ran his hands over you searching for some type of wound. “C’mon, what happened?” His tone had more of a bite to it than he intended but you were causing panic to seep through his veins. You couldn’t breathe, legs nearly buckling under the weight of your reality. Satoru seemed to catch this, hands shooting out to support you as he brought both of you to the floor. “Y/N, please.” he urged you, throat feeling tight. 

You shook your head, still sobbing as you raised your hand meekly, the positive pregnancy test out in the open for him to see. Blue eyes widened significantly when he saw it, he didn’t even need to see the two lines to understand why you were so hysterical. “Oh…oh.” he swallowed, hand shakily taking the test from your hand to look at it. “Oh fuck.” it was just barely above a whisper, arm holding you just a little tighter as you cried into his chest. 

At least part of you was aware of the possibility, Satoru on the other hand felt completely blindsided. “You two didn’t use protection?” He uttered softly, rocking you slightly without thinking as your cries continued, you couldn’t think at that moment, unable to calm yourself down. You managed to shake your head in response, unable to feel embarrassed as you admitted to not using condoms when with Suguru. “Fuck… did you ever use protection with him?” 

He knew the answer, of course he fucking knew the answer. Suguru was utterly obsessed with you, so in love it was nearly nauseating. You shook your head again, confirming that you’d never once used protection with him. “Hey… c’mon…” he started softly when your body shook with the force of your cries but you were no longer making any sounds. He wanted to say it would be alright but he wasn’t sure if it would be. 

That answer relied on you. 

He couldn’t expect you to be alright, you had your heart broken three weeks prior by the man who often talked about proposing to you as soon as you all graduated. If those were the kind of conversations Suguru was having with him, he couldn’t imagine the conversations Suguru had been having with you. Well, that was a bit of a lie. Considering your reaction to the test results, it seemed this was a long sought after goal. Your cries were from heartbreak, not fear. 

~

“I’ve been looking at rings.” Satoru glanced up, noodles dangling half way from his lips. “Hah?” He watched Suguru grimace a bit, some broth splattering as Satoru questioned him. “I’ve been looking at rings for Y/N.” Suguru stated again, a little more cautiously now, watching Satoru slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth. “Suguru, we haven’t even entered our third year.” 

“I know, but…” he shrugged, unable to formulate the right way to say it. “...But? You’re not even eighteen yet, neither is she.” It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t think it was okay, he just figured you were both way too young to even fathom those things. “I don’t intend on proposing to her until we’ve graduated. Listen I know it seems fast but…” Suguru's hands fidgeted with his utensils for a moment, eyes avoiding Satoru until he was ready.

“I love her, Satoru. I didn’t even think it was possible to love someone as much as I love her.” 

Satoru blinked, a bit taken back by such a bold declaration over a bowl of cheap ramen. “I’m not doubting that you love her, Suguru. I just think it’s a bit crazy to think about these things so young.” Suguru sighed, watching Satoru with weary eyes as he moved to eat more noodles. 

“We’re sourcers, Satoru. A long life isn’t guaranteed.” 

~

“Breathe, please. You’re going to pass out.” Satoru’s hand was slapping your back as you coughed, the tears had finally begun to slow but you still weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. “Please…” he tried again, watching you try your best to take a deep breath. It was followed by another, this time it wasn’t superficial. After a couple more, you were able to rub the tears from your eyes and look at him without blurry vision. 

“S-satoru I’m so so-sorry.” you hiccuped, your throat feeling raw from your crying. “You have nothing to apologize for, stop feeling like you have to apologize for everything you do.” he let you go a bit, motioning for you to get up with him and sit on his bed rather than the floor. He watched you crawl under his covers, curling up against his pillows, sniffling softly. Despite the weight of the conversation you were about to have, Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle. 

He crawled onto his bed as well, sitting beside you but above the covers. “So… I guess the best place to start is… how did this happen. By that I mean, was it intentional?” You sighed, toying with the end of his pillow case as you spoke. “Suguru had been trying to get me pregnant for months now.” You felt warmth flood your cheeks, it felt awkward admitting something like that. “I knew the bastard had a breeding kink.” Satoru said it more to himself than you, but that didn’t stop the shrill yell of his name as you slapped his arm. 

“I’m being honest! He just seemed like the type.” Satoru shrugged, holding back laughter as you rolled your eyes and settled back into sulking. “I shouldn’t be so blindsided by this, but it’s fucking ironic that he got what he wanted after he fucking left me… us.” you corrected softly, feeling selfish for being so focused on yourself when Satoru was hurting too. “The universe knows how to play cruel jokes, I’ve thought that my whole life. But, that’s beside the point. We can’t sit here and sulk over it, we need to talk about what to do next.” 

You looked up at Satoru, eyes red from crying. It hurt his heart, you looked like a kicked puppy. In that moment he realized how heavily he relied on Suguru, because even now he found himself itching to grab his phone and call him for advice. What was worse, you were now looking to him for help, when really he was just as scared as you. “The next logical step is I need to find a doctor who can run a blood test and confirm the store bought tests are accurate. After that, they need to tell me how far along I am so I can pinpoint when this happened.”

Satoru nodded, you’d both have to fill in Shoko in the morning, she’d be able to help with all the medical bits. “I… I know this seems a bit invasive so please don’t take offense… but are you going to keep it?” Satoru fidgeted a bit, eyes watching as you seemed to zone out and think. Your initial answer was yes, of course, but were you really capable of raising a baby on your own? Then again, you didn’t think you could stomach giving them away for adoption, and you certainly didn’t want to get rid of them. Not after you chased this goal for months, regardless of the way things were right now. “Yeah, as terrifying as it is, I want this baby, Satoru.” 

“Okay, so we got two of the biggest things out of the way. Now, the hardest…” you huffed as he trailed off, you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to answer the next question. “What do we do about Suguru, that’s what you’re going to say, right?” It was Satoru’s turn to huff now, nodding as he looked away from you to stare at his hands.

“He… he needs to know.” 

“No the fuck he doesn’t.” 

You both stared at each other, completely scandalized by the other’s response. “Satoru… He needs to know… he…he’s the fucking dad? How am I supposed to jus–” Satoru shook his head, hands coming up to rub his face before letting them fall back to his lap. “Suguru is a fucking criminal now, he murdered people. Hundreds of people I should fucking remind you and you just want to waltz back into his fucking life and tell him that shit?” You sat up now, eyes burning holes into his skull as you waited for him to at least look at you. “Do you hear yourself?” 

You were seething, that same anger you held for Suguru leaving was now bubbling at Satoru for uttering his name like it was pure filth. Satoru stiffened, eyes turning to glare at you. But, every ounce of anger seemed to drain from his body when he saw nothing but hurt glowing in your tired and puffy eyes. “I fucking get it, Satoru. I know what Suguru did but fuck, how am I supposed to just get over him? How am I supposed to carry his child for nine months and push it out of my body just to raise it on my fucking own and never tell him? He’s the one that wanted this in the first place!” Tears glossed your eyes over, hands shaking as they fisted in his sheets.

His mouth opened before closing again, eyes looking away from you because he knew he'd never be able to try and talk sense into you when you looked at him like that. “And what if the child is unable to see curses?” he sounded defeated. “What then, Y/N? What if you give birth to this baby and they lack the ability to see them? That baby would be the very thing Suguru hates.” You froze, it felt like someone had poured ice water down the back of your neck. “If he didn’t spare his own parents, he won’t spare his own child.” Satoru swallowed, looking like he wanted to say so much more but didn’t. He let the words hang there, heavy and dark. 

The silence stretched on between the two of you, mostly because you knew he was right. Just because both parents had the ability to see into the curse world and use curse energy, it didn’t guarantee that their offspring would also carry the same blessing. You blinked, hand subconsciously moving to rest over your stomach, as if it would do anything to protect them. “Suguru he… he wouldn’t…” Your words were weak and at that moment Satoru couldn’t bring himself to really fight with you. “But he would, y/n that’s the fucking issue, he would.” his voice was breaking, unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next. 

“Then what am I going to do?” You were going to dissolve, tears burning your eyes again as the harsh reality began to sink in. “Let me help you, let me help you raise the baby. I can easily provide for the two of you.” He turned to look at you now, eyes burning with such intensity it stole the air from your lungs. “What?” you hadn’t meant for it to sound offended, you were shocked to say the least, but still the hurt that flashed through his features made you feel the urge to reach out and hug him. “Satoru I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh…” You moved forward, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and hugging him. 

It took a second but his arms came up to wrap around your middle, holding you tightly. “It’s okay, it was a bold statement to make so suddenly.” he soothed you when really you felt that you  should be the one soothing him. “No it’s fine, really it just caught me by surprise and…” you hugged him a little tighter, burying your face in his neck. For a moment you nearly stiffened, that was something you usually did to seek comfort from Suguru. In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, finding comfort in Satoru’s reassuring embrace. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.” He hushed you, hand coming up to smooth your hair as he kept you close. “I doubt you have an appetite now, how about we just sleep?” 

“I still need to shower.” You pulled away, laughing softly when you remembered what you had been in the process of doing before your world flipped. “Okay, then go and shower but please come back to me when you’re done.” His tone was quiet, something in it held no room for you to disagree. So, you let go of him reluctantly, nodding as you crawled over him to stand. “Again, you don’t have to answer me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. But please, think about what I said.” He stayed on his bed, watching you shakily grab the pregnancy test before heading for his door. “I will, Satoru. Keep my spot warm.” you smiled at him over your shoulder, heart still heavy as you disappeared through the open door. 

The hot water on your skin wasn’t enough to wash away the dread growing in your chest. You found your hands absentmindedly running along your abdomen, still finding it hard to believe something was there, something that would grow into a living breathing human in a few months time. A mix of you and Suguru, how strange. This wasn’t how you imagined it would happen, nor were these the feelings you expected to experience when the time came. If anything, it made you more upset. You should be happy, you should be fucking estatic. You should be basking in the euphoric state of knowing you’d be having a child with the man you adored. 

Instead, you had sobbed in the arms of his best friend, completely hysterical. And the man you loved had no idea you were even pregnant, that the very thing he wanted had been achieved and he wouldn’t even get to know. At least not yet. You had taken Satoru’s words into consideration, of course you did. But in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go on with your life without ever telling Suguru. He would know, he would know of his child, you were already set on that. You twisted the knob, the water turning off a second later as you got out and dried yourself off a bit before wrapping the towel around you. 

Your body was aching from the events of the last few hours. Returning to Satoru’s room and sleeping in his warm bed sounded like heaven to you. Sleeping next to someone again felt like heaven to you. You had to wonder what Suguru would think if he knew you were sharing his best friend’s bed – albeit nothing sexual was occuring between the two of you. And even then, Suguru had broken up with you in that letter, you were technically no longer his. The thought made you feel sick as you reached for the clothing you had laid on your bed. You pulled the shorts on first, reaching for the oversized shirt second, trying to ignore the nausea building in your gut. 

You moved around your room without thinking, flicking the lights off before heading out the door and back down the hall. Satoru had changed into his own pajamas, hair damp from the shower he must have taken while you went to take yours. He only had his bedside lamp on, the pace beside him vacant and waiting for you. “Are you sure you don’t want food?” he questioned softly as you shut the door behind you. “I’ll eat a good breakfast if my morning sickness allows.” Those words felt foreign, referring to your nausea as morning sickness felt so bizarre. “Alright but if you wake up in the middle of the night starving don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

You laughed softly, huffing out an “okay” as you crawled over him and under the covers once more. Satoru pulled the blankets up over both of you before reaching over and flicking off the light. “Goodnight.” he spoke softly, settling into his bed as you rolled onto your side to get comfortable. “Night, Satoru.” You whispered back, eyes already feeling heavy, the comfort his bed offered was no match for the gnawing reality you were facing. For now, you were thankful for it. 

~

“Think fast!” You laughed, hurtling one of the poles directly in Satoru’s direction. He turned, using infinity to block it just before it hit his face. “Nice! Your reflexes are getting faster.” You picked up another weapon, Suguru was watching you intently, an easy smile on his face. “Sugu!” You called, aiming to throw another pole. “Think fast.” you repeated, arm going back before using every ounce of strength to beeline it straight at him. Suguru smiled, summoning a curse easily to deflect it. “Not bad.” you winked, watching him roll his eyes as the curse disappeared.

“Y’all are gross.” Satoru drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We didn’t even say anything?” Suguru countered, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “You don’t need to say anything, the tension is almost unbearable.” Shoko chimed, twirling her lighter around her fingers as she watched the three of you. This time you couldn’t help but laugh, letting Suguru close the distance and wrap an arm around your waist. “See, gross!” Satoru sighed dramatically as you kissed Suguru’s cheek. “It’s called being in love, something you wouldn’t get, Satoru.” You stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes. 

“Well if you’re gonna be all gross and lovey with one another, go do it in private.” 

“Okay.” 

You and Suguru spoke in unison, a shrill laugh leaving you as he bent down and hauled you up and over his shoulder. Naturally Shoko faked a gagging noise, watching as he carried you away with a smile. “They’re so gross.” Satoru commented again, eyes following the two of you until you were completely out of sight. Though, he couldn't deny the small smile tugging at his lips. 

“Suguru.” you slapped his back lightly, he was still carrying you over his shoulder even after entering the dorm buildings. “Hmm?” he paid you no mind as he climbed the stairs, his end destination would be your dorm room… more specifically your bed. “You can put me down now.” You knew he wouldn’t, so you opted for running your hands along his back, feeling his steps falter for a moment before composing himself. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.” 

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his ass. “Alright, that's it. You’re getting punished.” His words were very matter-of-fact, so much so that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay dad.” Suguru didn’t miss a beat, stalking down the hallway towards your dorm room. “Yeah, I’m trying to become one so it would help me out if you cooperated.” You made a strangled noise, it had been three weeks since Suguru admitted to wanting to get you pregnant. Needless to say, he wasn’t giving up any time soon. 

“You just want a reason to fuck me.” You tried to counter, jumping a bit as he pushed into your dorm room and kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t need a reason to fuck you, baby.” You couldn't describe the noise you made, whiplash taking over as he tossed you onto your bed. “I guess that’s true…” You pushed up on your elbows, watching him pull his white shirt up and over his head, knocking his hair out of his bun in the process. “You’ll be good for me right?” He was dropping to his knees before you, a gentle plea of his name leaving your lips.

“Atta girl.” he murmured, warm fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down. You watched him with parted lips, watching the way his eyes observed you. “Already wet? How fucking filthy.” his hands splayed along your thighs, pushing them wide open so he could really look at you. “Just because I picked you up? Or maybe it was from wrapping my arms around your waist?” He teased, pulling one hand from your thigh to spread your cunt open instead. “Tell me, pretty girl… what has you so worked up already?” 

“All of it.” You’re breathless as you look at him, no shame in your eyes as you admit how badly you want him. Suguru smiled, fingers keeping you spread as he watched the arousal pool at your entrance. “All of it, hmm? I make you that horny?” His tone was light but the look in his eyes was anything but. You could feel him devouring you whole. “Yeah, you fucking do.” You tried to keep your hips still, praying he’d do something other than watch you grow wetter by the second. “Tell me something, would you?” he pulled his eyes away to meet yours. 

“Anything.” You comment softly, waiting to hear what he had to say. Suguru smiled, fighting the urge to reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His voice was barely a whisper, pupils blown wide as he looked at you. You audibly groan, face feeling warm as your head falls back. “Eat me out, Suguru.” You drawl, no longer embarrassed by the things he makes you say. “As you wish.” He couldn’t even tease you for such an honest answer. Suguru’s head dipped lower, tongue licking up your inner thighs, teeth grazing the skin eagerly. 

“Sugu…” You whined out, his lips growing closer to your aching cunt. “... can I suck you off after?” 

Suguru’s whole body jolted as you uttered those words, mouth moving to lick and suck along your folds as his honest answer. You took that as a yes. You couldn’t help but squirm as his hands began kneading the flesh of your thighs, all the while his tongue was lapping at your cunt. Each movement sent electricity up your spine, one hand shakily reaching out to hold his head as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit. “Oh fuck… Suguru…” you were embarrassed by how quickly he had learned to make you cum, the pressure already building in your gut. 

He didn’t slow, rather he slipped two fingers into your slick entrance and scissored them in time with his sucking. He loved to put on a show for you, going as far as to slurp your juices just so he could hear you cry out. You couldn’t think straight when his tongue was wiggling against your clit, stopping every few seconds to suck until your back arched. Suguru continued this until he felt your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling harsh as your moans turned into breathy gasps. He pulled away with a slick pop, smiling deviously as your head shot up to glare at him. “Suguru!” You wailed, letting go of his hair angrily. 

“Not yet, I don’t want you coming yet.”  

“No fucking fair!” you whined, head falling back against the mattress in defeat. “So selfish.” Suguru laughed as he pushed himself off the floor, now making a show of pulling the rest of his clothing off. “There goes your chances at getting head.” you chided, watching as that shit eating grin remained on his lips. “You think this is funny!” you whined again, the echoes of your denied orgasm making you close your thighs to try and alleviate the pressure. Suguru watched you, cock throbbing as he kicked his pants off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side. 

“I do think it’s funny, mostly because you look so cute when you’re so worked up.” his hands wrapped around himself, pumping languidly as you spread your thighs again, eager for more. Suguru smirked, always defiant until his cock was out. “Nah baby, I don’t think you deserve this right now.” he continued to stroke himself, head falling back just a bit as his own aching arousal was finally being relieved. “Sugu…” you choked out in a hushed whisper, mouth watering as he let out a breathy sigh, fingers toying with the sensitive tip. You were regretting your earlier statement. 

“Sugu…” you spoke softly, watching him lift one leg to plant his foot on the mattress, hand still gliding along his shaft as his jaw slackened. He ignored you, continuing to get himself off. He was waiting for you to do something, that realization had you pushing yourself up, pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your legs off the side of the bed, maneuvering yourself until you sat on your knees before him. “Let me suck you off.” breathless, hands folded neatly on your lap as you waited for his response. 

Suguru smiled at you, watching the mattress move as your hips squirmed. “I thought you said the chances of me getting head were gone.” he teased, hand massaging just before the head of his cock, making his own voice falter as he spoke to you. “I never said that.” which was kind of true, you didn’t say those exact words. Suguru cocked an eyebrow, unable to maintain his stern demeanor as your tongue moved to wet your lips, eyes completely focused on his fist. “Please, your hand is so boring Suguru, especially when you could have my mouth.” you tried again, eyes sliding up his torso, admiring the dips and plains of his muscles. 

“When you put it like that, it’s hard to say no.” he murmured softly, letting his cock go. You scooted closer, until your knees were nearly off the edge of the mattress. “Thank you.” You whispered softly, watching his face flush a shade of pink, eyes quickly looking away from you to try and regain some sort of composure. The first touch was always enough to make him weak in the knees, your tongue gliding gently over his weeping tip before lowering to the underside of his shaft. He met your eyes, face still flushed as you looked at him with such adoration. All the while your mouth was doing sinful things to him, your duality was enough to induce whiplash. 

His fingers came up to rake through your hair, guiding you as your jaw slackened, head moving to engulf him in the wet heat your mouth had to offer. “Oh fuck…” Suguru choked when you didn’t stop moving, throat constricting as your nose brushed the unruly mess of black hair at his base. You held yourself there, drool dripping down your chin as your cheeks hollowed. Slowly you dragged yourself back, watching the shiny coat of saliva covering his shaft in your wake. You repeated those motions, finding a comfortable place to bob your head at, his length heavy on your tongue. “So good for me… fuck you’re so good for me… I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” 

You merely hummed, ignoring the slow but steady ache building in your jaw as your hand moved along his shaft. You could tell he was starting to really feel it, his cock twitching every few motions, head tilted back as his eyes fluttered shut. You had to admit you were impressed he managed to stay on his feet. Most times, when Suguru dared to eat you out while you were standing, you were nearly a dead weight in his grasp by the end. The only thing keeping you up was the wall he stuffed you against and his shoulders because he tossed your legs over them. You stopped when you felt him twitching violently, jaw clenched tight as his head shot forward to look down at you.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty girl.” He choked out, hands cupping your cheeks to guide you as you moved your head again. Your hands shot out, holding his thighs tightly as you let him use your head how he pleased, guiding you to a pace that made your eyes water before he stilled all together. You forced yourself to relax as Suguru spilled down your throat, letting you greedily swallow all of it before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. “Fuck…” he nearly fell into the bed, dick still hard as he crawled onto the matress with you. “How about we do this…” he sounded breathless, laying on his side and guiding you to do the same. You knew what he wanted, swollen lips parting as you sighed, settling with your back just barely touching his front. 

You let Suguru grab one leg, lifting it up slowly to create enough space for himself. “Lazy boy…” You teased over your shoulder, letting his arm hook under your neck, large hand resting on your chest. “Maybe I am, but you fucking love it.” You couldn’t complain, not when he was angling his hips and pressing the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance. He pressed into you, adjusting both of your bodies until he found a comfortable position to properly rut his hips into you. All you could do is let him, whining loudly as he split you open, stuffing you full. “How’s that, hmm? Does it feel good?” Suguru whispered against your ear, panting as your walls constricted around him and tried to push him out at the very same time. “F-feels so good…so good…” You whined loudly. 

Suguru didn’t give you a verbal response after that, instead focusing all of his attention on finding a good rhythm to fuck you too. You couldn’t stop the noises that spilled past your lips, each drag of his cock in and out of your heat was enough to make your vision blurry. It took everything in you to at least keep your head up, tilted downwards to watch where he disappeared and reappeared between your legs.  “Suguru…” a breathless plea, one that turned into a steady mantra as all you could think about was him and what he was doing to you. Had you not been so overwhelmed you would have heard his quiet grunts of praise each time your bodies connected. 

Suguru watched a shaky hand slide down your front, in your whimpering daze you managed to slip two fingers down there to rub sloppy circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, aren’t ya?” Suguru gasped, his cock twitching violently as your cunt suctioned to him, nearly making his thrusts falter. “Y-yeah…” you managed to get out, no longer having the strength to keep your head up. You let it fall, resting snuggly in the crook of the arm he was using to support you. “Then come for me, pretty girl. I wanna feel you come all over my cock… then maybe I’ll fill you up, yeah? You’d love that…” you responded with a loud whine, walls fluttering around his length each time he pushed it back in. 

“There we go, come for me.” He encouraged again, warm breath ghosting the shell of your ear and earning a shiver in response. You could feel it, the aching build of a damn that was on the verge of breaking, every breath you made was nothing but a labored pant. Your heart was beating erratically, just as you were about to fall over the edge, Suguru gasped. You couldn’t help but gasp with him, his release pumping into you, hot and sticky. “F-fuck sorry…” he grounded out, his own orgasm sneaking up on him and completely catching you by surprise. Not that it mattered to you, that strained and embarrassed apology was all you needed before you felt yourself coming as well. 

You both essentially collapsed, Suguru holding you tightly as he angled himself to remain inside of you, to keep his cum inside of you. “You okay?” he mumbled softly, hand lazily reaching for the one you had used to rub your clit and bring it to your lips. You whined as he popped the shiny fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. “Yeah, I'm good…great really.” You chuckled, eyelids feeling heavy as he hummed. “Good.” he mumbled softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth to kiss them gingerly. “You know I love you, right?” Suguru’s voice was tender, so tender it nearly pulled the air out of your lungs. “Yeah, of course I know that Sugu… you know I love you too, right?” 

“I know.” was all he said in reply, you had to wonder why he was suddenly so sentimental. Suguru was typically softer with you after sex, aftercare was one of his specialties. But something about his tone felt different, something about his question felt like there was more meaning behind it. You had been noticing the bags under his eyes for the last few weeks, but every time you asked he always brushed you off. “Is everything okay?” you tried to turn your head to look back at him, but the angle he had you in proved to make movement difficult. “Mmhmm, just want to make sure you’re okay.” but he hadn’t  been that rough with you. “Yeah, I’m okay… but you haven’t answered me.” He stopped kissing your hand, setting it down gently as he moved to kiss your shoulder. 

“I haven’t?” 

“I asked you if you were okay.”

“Well, I did answer you. I said yes.” he didn’t sound offended, more or less he sounded amused. “Mmhmm isn’t a yes, Suguru.” You, on the other hand, sounded a little less enthused. “I’m okay, baby. Is that better.” you couldn’t see it but you could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, that’s better.” But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the worry clinging to your heart. 

~

“Hey… hey…” you woke with a gasp, eyes wet as you tried to remember where you were. “You okay? You started crying in your sleep again.” A worried but groggy voice was speaking to you, one that was familiar but your brain couldn’t seem to catch up. “Y/N? It’s me, it’s Satoru.” There it was, you nearly fell back into the pillow with relief as he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry… I was dreaming and it just… fuck it felt so real. I couldn’t remember where I was…” you wiped your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dark room again. “It’s okay… you’ve been dreaming a lot.” Satoru sighed, he remembered you saying that your nights had been pretty dreamless for the last three weeks so why was that changing now? 

“I know… it just started happening too. Maybe it's because of the baby.”

Your hand lowered to your stomach, palm resting flatley against it. You still couldn’t process the fact that there was something in there, something that was growing, a mix of you and him. “Can pregnancy make you dream more?” Satoru chuckled, blue eyes shifting to read his alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning. You had slept pretty well until a few minutes ago. He had been watching you, woken up by your body growing restless. He woke you up the moment he heard you start to sniffle. “I dunno, maybe.” you sighed, eyes feeling heavy again. “Sorry for waking you, Toru.” You didn’t hear the way his breath hitched, your yawn effectively shutting it all out. 

You hadn’t called him by that nickname in weeks, he hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. “Don’t apologize, I told you to stop that.” Not stern, just tired, he wanted you to go back to normal but he knew that was impossible. Things would never go back to how they were. “Oh, yeah… I guess you have told me that.” You chuckle, turning on your side to face him in the dark. “I won’t apologize for forgetting this time, okay?” You grinned, eyes closing and unaware that he was able to see it in the dark. “Okay.” He sighed, a grin creeping up his own face as he let his eyes shut again. Hopefully you’d sleep through to his alarm at 8:30am, you had a busy day ahead. 

~END OF PART ONE~

Thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to part 2 <3333

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ;3

[nadvs]

home before dark (part eight) (end)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, smut, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

You can hear gentle taps on the window behind you. At some point since you got back from the marina, it must’ve started raining. You’ve been too absorbed in your time with Rafe to notice until now.

Even though you’re trying to process what he just said, your instinct is to hope for his sake that it doesn’t storm. Because your instinct has always been to worry about him. His was always to avoid you. And now, if you actually heard him right, you know the real reason why.

You’re suspended in time as you stand in front of him in your kitchen, trying to silently compel him to look at you again. But his eyes are focused on the floor.

You were just upstairs, touching in the most intimate way, giving each other the best kind of pleasure. Now, in a matter of a minute, a chasm has opened up between you again. Rafe’s chest is rising and falling faster with every second that passes.

“What’d you just say?” you ask.

“I was…” Rafe shuffles in place, his temples beginning to throb. “Fuck. I was never going to tell you.”

“What do you mean because of me?” you echo his words, your legs weakening.

Hearing your voice sound so faint, a harsh contrast from the soothing, careful way you always speak to him, makes his chest tighten.

“Goddamn it,” Rafe mutters. “Why’d you have to push me to talk when I - I said I didn’t want to talk?”

His feet carry him to the other end of the counter just to create some distance. He figures it should be easy because for so long, it’s been second nature for him stay away from you. But he hates that he can’t touch you right now. This moment is too tense, the words he said too ugly.

Rafe finally meets your gaze. Every other time he thought you looked sad or scared or broken is nothing compared to the way your face is knitted in misery right now.

His darkest secret is out. He told himself he’d take it to the grave. But he just changed everything. He shoved a dagger into the heart of the only person who truly cares about him. And there’s no undoing it.

“What do you mean because of me?” you repeat.

Rafe swallows the lump in his throat. He knew you were wrong; he’s not good like you said he is. This proves it. He’s sick. There’s something wrong with him because a good person wouldn’t blurt what he just said out, no matter how much pressure they were under.

He nervously grips the edge of the counter.

“Rafe,” you urge. His head hangs low.

“It was right before your birthday,” he mutters. “Do you remember?”

“Of course I-” You inhale a sharp breath. “Of course I remember.”

After what happened, you cancelled your eleventh birthday party. You didn’t want to celebrate anything for years afterwards.

“Did that have… something to do with it?” you ask.

Rafe’s body goes cold. It had everything to do with it.

He begged his mother to go. She told him there were warnings on tv about a storm and that they could go the next day, that there was time, but he had to be such a brat about it that she finally agreed. She always gave into him.

“You never stopped talking about how excited you were for it,” he says, “and I wanted to get you something great and I made her take me. And you…”

His gaze hardens. This was supposed to stay locked inside him forever. At some point, behind his back, you got the key.

Your heart is in a vice. You’re waiting for him to say this is a cruel joke.

“You know what?” he huffs. “I don’t even remember what I was so determined to get you. I just remember…”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, a short, boyish whine escaping his mouth as he hears the sound of the tires skidding in his mind, over and over again. They didn’t even make it to the store.

You want to rush to him. To hold him. To let him dampen your shirt with his tears again. But you can’t. You’re frozen.

This is why Rafe never wanted you in his life. You’re not just a reminder. It was never that simple. You’re the reason for his suffering. And you can touch him and laugh with him and kiss him as many times as you want, but you’re sure he’ll never see past it.

He doesn’t have to tell you why he kept this from you. It’s clear. He didn’t want to hurt you. You thought he was being cruel all these years, but he was protecting both of you from this very moment.

You imagine the boy you knew, in the car, watching his world end because he wanted to be a good best friend to you. He was always sweet. Always doing what he could to show the people he loved that he loved them. And he paid for it in the worst way.

You’re crashing into a painful realization, as if the lights were just turned on, burning your eyes after you’d been sitting in the dark for years.

“I…” you begin. But you’re weak. Speechless. You hold the back of a chair at the kitchen table for stability.

For once, you’re not touching Rafe to comfort him as he cries. On top of the shame and frustration and guilt he’s feeling, a sense of loneliness sinks into him. He doesn’t know if he’d push you away if you came to him. But you’re not even going to try?

The sharp, comfortable feeling of anger overshadows it all. Like always. Being mad is the most familiar state for him to be in. Especially when it’s himself he’s angry at.

“And I just kept asking until she agreed to take me,” he mutters.

You can hear it in his voice that he blames himself, too. And if there’s anything you can do for him, it’s take away his pain. It’s what you’ve wanted to do for him for so long.

Guilt rips you into you. A hot tear rolls over your cheek. If Rafe has to blame you, if it’s defence mechanism, his way to cope, you can live with being the bad guy in his story. Because you love him. You’re afraid you always will.

Your phone rings in your pocket, blaring in your kitchen. You’ve had it on loud so you couldn’t miss a call from your parents just in case.

You clumsily rush to grab it and turn the sound off. You hang up before even looking at who’s calling.

“Who is it?” he asks.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say.

“Who is it?” he says more sternly.

You look at the notification. Your lawyer. You called her after the cops found the tracker on your car to update her. You’re sure you discussed everything you needed to. What’s she doing calling at almost nine at night?

“My lawyer,” you say.

“Call her back,” he orders.

“I can do it later.”

Rafe only says your name, his mouth a firm line. You hate that he’s talking to you like this again, as if he’s mad at you for existing around him.

But he’s right. She might have some important news. Your hands are shaking as you tap on your screen to call your lawyer back on speakerphone. She answers after the first ring.

“Sorry I called so late, but I wanted to let you know,” she says, “I hounded the police and I finally just got confirmation that they took Ty into custody.”

“He was arrested?” you say. You meet Rafe’s eyes. In the midst of all this, for a second, he forgot you’ve been living in your own horror.

“Yes,” she replies. “He’s been charged with the unlawful installation of a tracking device. They traced it back to him. They don’t always arrest for a misdemeanor, but I think the fact that you already had an order out against him helped.”

“Okay,” you breathe. “Thank you.”

“Again, I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” she says. “You did the right thing fighting back. I wanted to keep you updated. Call me if you have any questions. Have a good night.”

“Thank you,” you say. “You, too.”

You hang up the phone and realize you don’t even feel a morsel of relief that Ty has been arrested. Because Rafe just dropped something so earth-shattering on you that you’re not sure you’ll ever be the same again.

You don’t even discuss the call you both just heard. You stick to your private vow. You have to. He can blame you. He can hate you. He can feel whatever he wants if it’ll ease his suffering.

“You’re right,” you say quietly. You sit down, unable to hold yourself up any longer. “You’re right. You just wanted to be a good friend. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

It doesn’t feel entirely dishonest taking the blame. They were on the freeway because of you. If you and Rafe never became friends, if you never fell into his life, he’d still have a mother.

His words from earlier when this all started ring in your head. We can’t do this. This conversation? Or everything?

“It’s always going to be hard for you to be around me, isn’t it?” you ask, desperate for the clarity. Because if it’s true, it’s better you know now.

Just this morning, he said you were friends again. Then in your room, you did something people who are much more than just friends do. And now, you might be doomed to going back to being nothing. Unless he denies it. Again, hope finds its way in your heart like it always does when it comes to him.

Rafe’s stare is distant. He grips the countertop even tighter.

“I don’t know,” he says. Truthfully, he exists in two places at once when he’s with you. He feels both peace and disarray. Both bitter and sweet.

You nod slowly, standing on wobbly knees to find a paper towel to wipe your tears away with. You stand by the sink with your back to him, rubbing it beneath your eyes.

I don’t know. It’s the worst answer he could give you. At least if he gave a definitive yes or no, you’d know what the future will look like. But I don’t know is what keeps hope alive, and you know by now the pain that hope can bring.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeat, muffled. “If you never met me…”

You think back to sitting next to him in the police station waiting room. He wrote in your birthday on that form without hesitation. He didn’t even need to think about it. And you know now it’s because he’s doomed to remember that date forever.

“You don’t have to stay here,” you finally say. “You can go home. I get it. I get why you never wanted to talk to me.”

You let out a shaky sigh, regretting the years you spent trying to reconnect with him. You were unknowingly hurting him every time.

The guilt sitting on your heart is so heavy that you’re sure it’ll never leave you. While you thought he kept you at a distance because of grief, because of the role you played in reminding him, you realize that was only scratching the surface.

Rafe’s eyes are trained on you on the other side of the room, watching your body tremble.

“I’m staying,” he says resolutely. You turn to look at him from across the kitchen. His eyes gleam with tears.

“He was arrested,” you reply. “He can’t hurt me.”

Rafe studies you. You look how you did the night this all started, when you rushed to him, asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend.

“But you’re still scared,” he says.

“I think I’ll be scared for a while,” you admit. Ty is still out there. Even behind bars, he’s someone plotting to own you. You try to push past the fear for Rafe’s sake. “But he can’t hurt me.”

“I told you that I’m staying with you until your parents get back,” Rafe says.

You feel like you’re spiralling. You know he kept this from you for a noble reason, but the realization that he always blamed you feels like it’s chipping away at you by the second.

“It’s okay,” you say. “Your job is done. You don’t have to do this anymore.”

“Yes, I do,” Rafe counters. You grimace. He’s being so stubborn. The rack of guilt, shock, and confusion has your mind racing.

“Why did we do… what we did upstairs?” you ask. “Why did you say you felt something for me?”

Rafe exhales slowly. Kissing and touching you like that was euphoric. He wants that feeling, again and again, without the ugliness of your shared history following both of you.

“Because I do,” he answers honestly. You twist your lips in sadness.

“You do,” you say, “but you don’t want me in your life?”

Rafe’s quiet, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, you feel selfish and ashamed to be confronting him about this after he revealed something so painful.

“Forget it. I’m sorry,” you say. You toss the damp paper towel in the trash. “If you want to stay, you can. But if you want to go, I get it. I’ll be in my room.”

You start to tread out of the kitchen, a sniffling mess at this point. You feel worse than ever for pestering him with your questions after he opened up to you.

You’re sure you’ve both spent more time crying than smiling since you tumbled into each other’s lives again. Maybe it’s best for both of you to be nothing. It’s not what your heart wants, but being together seems to bring you both more pain than happiness.

You turn, figuring this may be your only chance to tell him how sorry you are. If tonight’s your last night together and you go back to being strangers after this, you need him to know.

“I know nothing I say or do can make it better, but I’m so sorry for everything you went through. And I’m so sorry I was the reason for it,” you say, meeting his gaze from across the room. “I never stopped missing you. But I get it. We don’t have to be friends or… be anything. We’ll go back to how it was. This time, I won’t keep bothering you.”

Rafe watches you leave. The weight in the pit of his stomach gets a million times heavier. He would do anything to take back telling you the truth.

You’re curled up in a ball under your blanket, your throat growing sore from crying. You tried to break this arrangement with Rafe off the day he told you that you were always going to remind him of what happened. You told him all you do is hurt each other.

But he pushed. He said he wanted to take care of you. You’re almost angry at him for not letting you end it then. But as painful as the truth he dropped on you tonight is, you’re glad you know.

You’d rather take the blame for him. You’d rather never have to wonder what he meant when he said you did do something wrong, but not on purpose.

But you are angry at him for kissing you. For touching you. It gave him another piece of your heart that you can never get back.

Rafe is still hunched over in the kitchen. He fucked up. You’re upstairs, devastated, because of him. Since this started, you’ve been so worried about bothering him. You said he tolerates you. And he put so much effort into making sure you didn’t feel like a burden, but he just undid it all.

The way you apologized was like you were saying sorry for existing. Whatever he had left of a heart had been wrung out. He needs a distraction. But you can’t give it to him, because it’s you he needs the distraction from.

You eventually get to a point where you can’t cry anymore. You’re numb. You spend every passing minute hoping Rafe will come into your room to try to convince you that you can make each other happy.

But he doesn’t. You fall asleep alone.

A loud bang wakes you up. Your instinct tells you it’s Ty. A few seconds later, consciousness gets a hold of you and you remember your phone call. He’s in police custody. He can’t be here.

You sit up in the dark. Another bang outside. It’s still raining but the noises aren’t rolls of thunder like a few nights ago.

Rafe didn’t leave. If he did, he would’ve needed you to disarm the security system. You check the time. It’s nearing three in the morning.

Another thud. At this point, you’re scared. You need to find him.

You’re already panting when you reach the guest room. You knock on the ajar door.

“Rafe?” you mumble.

To your relief, you hear his tired hmm? from the other side of the door.

“I keep hearing noises from outside,” you say. “I think someone might be out there.”

The bed squeaks with his weight shifting and a moment later, you hear the unmistakable sound of him pulling out and pushing in the magazine of his gun. It adds yet another layer of fear onto you.

“Where?” Rafe asks as he steps out of the room.

You guide him in the dark to the window by your bed. You watch him lean to look out the glass, the gun in his hand.

“It can’t be him, right?” you finally say with a thin voice.

Rafe’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t want to say what’s been turning in his head since you got the call from the lawyer. He didn’t want to scare you. But it’s exactly why he stayed.

“Rafe?” you say.

“Someone could’ve bailed him out,” he finally replies.

Your heart is in your throat. The stress of tonight made you completely forget about that possibility. If Ty got bail, of course his wealthy family would pay it. You feel stupid for urging Rafe to leave. And grateful that he didn’t.

“Well, if he - if he did, wouldn’t the police make sure he doesn’t try to get to me?” you ask.

“The police are idiots,” Rafe says flatly, still angry over how passively they treated you when you filed the restraining order, how thoughtless they were to not check your belongings.

“If he’s trying to get in,” you say shakily, “the alarm will go off. It automatically alerts the cops if it isn’t turned off within a minute. Please, if you… have to shoot, do it just to stop him. Don’t kill him.”

The thought of putting Rafe through watching someone else lose their life is too much for you.

He turns to look at you, barely making out your features in the moonlight shining into your room. How could possibly want to spare the life of someone so evil?

“He’s not worth it,” you say. “I don’t want it weighing on you for the rest of your life.”

Rafe looks at you in awe. Again, you put him first. In this moment, where you’re surely terrified, you’re worrying about him carrying the weight of taking someone’s life. Because he already carries that weight for his mother. And tonight, he put that weight on you, too.

“Okay,” he says. “But if he tries to hurt you, I don’t know how I’ll control myself.”

A deafening, chilling smash of glass echoes from downstairs. The shrill security alarm starts blaring. Your hand finds the crook of Rafe’s elbow as your entire body stiffens.

“Stay here,” Rafe says. “Don’t come out.”

“Be careful,” you stammer. “I’m calling 911 just to be sure.” You watch him leave as you grab your phone to report a break-in, giving the operator your address.

A few seconds later, the security system stops ringing. It’s been shut off. And you know it wasn’t Rafe who did it.

Rafe reaches the bottom of the stairs, gun pointed ahead in the dark. His eyes land on Ty, standing by the door, his hand on the security panel.

“Get the fuck out or I swear to God, I’ll shoot you,” Rafe threatens.

“I just want to talk to her,” he replies tersely.

“Get out,” Rafe repeats.

You can make out muffled conversation. You stand by your door, opening it an inch to hear what’s happening downstairs.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through for her? Where is she?”

It’s Ty. He actually did it. He actually found a way to get to you again. Rafe is the only thing keeping him from you right now. You feel like you could throw up from how scared you are.

“You have five seconds to leave,” Rafe says. Your ex sputters a laugh.

“Or what?” Ty reaches below the hem of his shirt. “You think you’re the only one with a gun?”

Your blood runs cold. Rafe is facing a maniac you’re sure wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. This could end in someone getting shot. Someone could die here tonight. And if it’s Rafe, you won’t be able to live with yourself.

It’s a crazy, desperate idea, but you’re confident you can manipulate Ty. You know him well. You know what he wants to hear. He’d do anything to think he can have you again. And you need to buy time before the police get here.

“Put it down,” Rafe warns.

“Is this gonna be a game of chicken?” Ty laughs again, his gun gleaming in his hand.

Your entire body is tense as you step out of your room.

“Ty?” you call out, slowly coming down the stairs. Rafe stiffens.

“I told you to not to come out,” Rafe says sternly, his eyes still on your ex.

“These are the lengths I have to go to for you, huh?” Ty calls up to you. “Just to get you to talk to me?”

It’s still dark in your home, both men just murky figures.

“I’m turning on the light,” you say, knowing that surprising Ty won’t do any good.

You reach the bottom of the staircase, standing behind Rafe, and flip the switch, washing the entrance of your home in bright lighting.

You have to stifle your gasp when you see Ty. His face is swollen from Rafe beating him up last night. His clothes are muddy from creeping around your home in the rain, finding a way in. He must have jumped the gate.

The realization that he knows the security code crashes into you. He’s surely seen you punch it in from his visits back when he was your boyfriend. You never thought he’d be committing it to memory.

This whole time, he knew it. Something you thought was protecting you wasn’t. You wish you’d thought to change the code after the break-up.

“Go back upstairs,” Rafe says, his teeth gritted.

You place a hand on Rafe’s back, out of Ty’s sight.

“Let’s talk,” you say to Ty. “Put the gun down and let’s talk.”

“You know the cops came to my house and arrested me in front of my parents?” Ty says, looking utterly unhinged. “Why the fuck did you do that to me?“

His gun is still aimed in your direction, but it’s a little lower in his shaky hand. You’re getting somewhere.

“I’m so sorry. I was scared,” you tell him.

“And you let this asshole,” Ty says, eyes darting to Rafe, “hurt me. You just fucking watched him punch me and punch me over and over and then you left. You left with him.”

“I’d do it again,” Rafe mutters. He sees pure red.

“Hey,” you whisper to him. You force your anxiety away, knowing you need to calm Ty down, not provoke him.

You drop your hand and walk past Rafe, who harshly says your name. His fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. You look at him.

“Stop,” Rafe mutters to you, still holding out his gun at Ty. “Go upstairs. I’m handling this.”

“I won’t let you hurt him,” you say, loud for Ty to hear. “I don’t want you anymore.”

Rafe knows you’re trying to trick Ty to avoid anything horrible happening here tonight, but your words make everything in him twist in pain.

You pull away and approach Ty, your heart drumming against your chest. You meet his wide, frantic eyes.

“Hey,” you say softly, walking towards him. “You were right. He was just a rebound. You know me better than anybody.”

“You’re lying,” Ty mutters. But he’s lowering his gun. “You’re just a liar.”

“Ty,” you say, mustering up forced affection. You reach him, standing mere inches away. His gun is at his side now. The thought of him raising his hand again is petrifying.

“I was scared,” you continue, “but now I can see how much you care about me. It’s why I came downstairs. I heard your voice and I realized how much I miss you.”

“I just wanted to talk to you,” he says. “This whole time. And what’d you do? You got a new boyfriend. You called the cops. I - I love you. I gave you everything.”

His eyes are sharp. Poisonous. He genuinely thinks he’s done nothing wrong. To him, tracking you and taking photos of you and forcing contact with you was okay. He wants you as an object to possess. Not as a person.

“I know. Nobody can love me like you do,” you whisper, echoing the words he screamed at you when you broke up with him. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it. I’ve always been stupid, right?”

It’s taking everything in Rafe not to charge at Ty. If he makes one wrong move, he doesn’t think he can restrain himself from putting a bullet through his chest.

Rafe watches your hand drag down Ty’s arm and he grimaces, sure you’re rattled with fear.

“Can you put this down?” you ask, your hand stopping at his, cupping the gun. “I want you to hold me like you used to.”

“You do?” Ty says, his anger slowly disappearing from his face. Relief pools through you.

“Of course,” you reply. Your hand is shaking as you find the barrel of his gun, slowly pulling at it. “I need you. I make bad decisions when I’m not with you.”

“Yeah, you do,” Ty says, a desperate grin spreading on his face. “You finally fucking get it.”

You force a smile at him, breathing out slowly as you take the gun out of his grip.

Rafe watches with relief when he sees you holding Ty’s gun at your back.

It’s terrifying facing him, but at least there’s no gun pointed at Rafe right now. It dawns on you just how much you love him. You came down here simply to try to keep him safe. To keep him from having someone’s blood on his hands. You approached someone you’ve been running from. You put your own life in danger. Willingly.

You pull back, forcing another smile as you gaze up at Ty.

“We’re getting out of here,” Ty orders.

You look up at him, hoping he doesn’t see the fear in your eyes. There’s no way you’re going anywhere with him. You know you have a second, maybe two, to get away from him. And you can only hope it’s enough.

“Let me get my shoes,” you say, trying to laugh as if you’re excited, as if you’re endeared by him.

You move as fast as you can, kneeling to pick the gun up off the floor and rushing back towards Rafe.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ty spits behind you.

Rafe has never been more relieved in his life than when you reach him, cowering behind him, Ty’s gun in your hands.

Maybe you should use it, but you can’t fathom trusting your aim when you’re shaking like this.

“You lying bitch!” Ty shouts, striding forward.

“One more step!” Rafe warns louder.

Ty doesn’t listen.

“Look away,” Rafe mutters to you. You curl up behind him, making yourself small, shutting your eyes.

The gunshot pierces the air, echoing through the foyer, making you quiver. You want to wake up. Because this has to be a nightmare. This can’t be real.

You hear Ty moaning in pain. Your eyes are still shut when sirens blare in the distance.

It’s a blur. People rush in. The door is left open, rain drumming on the pavement. You hear another hard thud and you realize you dropped the gun that was in your hands.

You feel Rafe turn and he’s saying something to you, but you can’t understand it. A shiny, yellow badge gleams in the light.

“…happened tonight?” a stranger asks.

“Can’t you do this another time?” Rafe mutters, irritated.

“We need a statement.” You realize the police officer is talking to you, a notepad in his hand. You meet his eyes.

“What?” you breathe.

Rafe looks down at you with furrowed brows, worried about you and pissed off that you’re being questioned.

“Can you tell me what happened tonight?” the cop says.

“Her ex broke in,” Rafe says. “He had a gun. You guys arrested him, then let him go. There’s your statement.”

The police officer sighs, keeping his eye on you.

“Have you been physically harmed?” the cops says.

You find the strength to shake your head no.

“Do you have somewhere else to sleep tonight?” he asks.

“Yes,” Rafe answers for you. “It’s better she’s not here in case you morons let him out again, right?”

The cop shakes his head in frustration, but seems to decide that not engaging with Rafe’s angry sarcasm is the better choice.

“We’ll be in touch, miss,” he says. He turns all his attention to Rafe. “Can you answer some questions?”

“Fine,” he mutters, then looks to you. “You wanna go pack?”

All you can hear is your own quick breathing as you pack an overnight bag. You’re trembling, dropping things, moving as if you’re going to be late for something.

Your house is a crime scene now. You still don’t know what happened with Ty. You couldn’t look.

It’s a few minutes past four a.m. when you reach Tannyhill. You and Rafe haven’t said anything to each other since the cops left.

The enormous house is dark and quiet as you trail him up the stairs. You know it’s irrational, but still, you fear Ty will pop out from behind a corner and try to finish the job.

Even after your harsh conversation earlier tonight, you hope Rafe will let you sleep in his bedroom. You stop in the upstairs hallway, unsure of what to do next, but his hand finds yours, leading you, making the decision for you.

Rafe’s bedsheets smells just like him, warm and strong and comforting. You’re turned on your side, your back to him, as he settles behind you.

Now that you’re lying down, you realize just how hard you’re shaking. Your body is still trying to catch up with your mind.

Rafe notices.

“It’s over,” he says, voice low. “You’re alright.”

You nod, exhaling once you feel his hand rest on your back. His fingers gently run back and forth between your shoulder blades. You find your words, finally.

“I know you had it under control,” you whisper, “but I couldn’t just sit in my room and do nothing. I was scared of him but I was more scared he’d hurt you and I knew I could trick him and I know you’re mad at me-”

“I’m not…” Rafe interrupts with a sigh. “I’m not mad at you.”

He’s mad at how unfair everything is. And at himself. He should have never told you they were in the car because of you. The conversation with you in your kitchen is another memory he knows will haunt him.

You nuzzle into Rafe’s pillow. He’s still slowly stroking your back, granting you a sense of safety.

“Listen, I won’t lie. I wish you never came downstairs,” he admits. It killed him seeing you face someone who’s been torturing you. “I didn’t know what he was gonna do. But you… you knew how to deal with him. I… Thank you. You didn’t have to do it for me.”

Your heart is still pounding. Of course you had to do it for him. You’d do anything for him.

“You’ve been looking out for me,” you say quietly. “I wanted to finally return the favor.”

Rafe chews on his lip. He’s pretty sure you take care of him more than he does you.

“What happened?” you ask. “Did you…”

“Got him in the leg,” Rafe says. “They arrested him. Again.” He would’ve killed him if you gave him your blessing to. He knows that for sure.

You nod. Your eyelids start to flutter shut. He keeps rubbing your back until he’s sure you’re asleep.

For once, you start your day next to Rafe. He didn’t leave you to wake up alone this time. He’s pressed up behind you, his arm draped over you, his hand over yours. You feel his chest rising and falling against your back.

The room is washed in orange sunlight. The clock on his nightstand tells you it’s almost noon.

You don’t know what to do from here. You promised Rafe that after this ended, you’d stop bothering him. And he didn’t tell you not to.

You look down at his hand on top of yours. Your eyes trail over his fingers, once again thinking about everything he’s done for you. He’s kept you safe, taken on responsibilities for you, given you pleasure.

Minutes later, Rafe shuffles behind you, slowly waking up. Once he realizes he’s holding you, he pulls away, clearing his throat.

You sit up and collect your bag before you go to his ensuite bathroom, not making eye contact. After texting a friend to ask if you can come over, you mentally rehearse what you’ll say to Rafe as you brush your teeth.

He’s sitting up in bed when you come out. He can see how tired you are, but you still manage to be so breathtakingly beautiful.

“Hi,” you say. You take a breath, standing over him, your bag at your chest. “There’s no way I can thank you enough. You saved my life. If I was home alone, he would’ve taken me somewhere and…”

You look down, knowing you shouldn’t spiral into the what if’s.

“After what I did to you, you still helped me,” you say, quieter now. “I know you think low of yourself, but you shouldn’t. Because of you, I’m alive right now.”

Rafe stares up at you, his hair tousled over his forehead. Only you can give him this feeling of pride in himself. This feeling that maybe he has a reason to exist other than getting wasted and taking out his anger in every way he can.

“It wasn’t all me,” he replies. “You’re tougher than you know.” You offer him a small, thankful smile.

“I’ll get Sarah to drive me to a friend’s,” you say. “And I’ll stay there until my parents get back tonight.”

You start to walk towards the door, but his words stop you.

“I never stopped missing you, either,” he says tensely, remembering your words from last night. “Just so you know.”

You look at him with doleful eyes. Rafe’s heart pounds faster when you drop your bag and approach him. You duck, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, hugging him.

He wraps his arms around you and closes his eyes until you pull back and take your warmth with you. You can both feel that this is goodbye.

You’re grateful not only because he kept you safe from Ty, but because he allowed this arrangement between you to end cordially. He opened up one last time, giving you the comfort of knowing that he still cared about you even after the accident he blames you for.

He missed you, too. It gives you a reprieve from the pain, even just for a second.

You have a long phone conversation with your lawyer when you arrive at your friend’s house. Ty’s back in custody. There’s no option for bail now. He’ll be incarcerated until the trial. Your original court date has been nullified, as a judge has granted you the permanent protective order given the circumstances.

You give your official police statement, emphasizing as many times as you can that Rafe acted in self-defence and protected you. When your lawyer confirms he isn’t being charged with anything, you’re more relieved than ever.

You’re in a haze when you finally see your parents again. Telling them everything feels like you’re recounting a horror movie.

Your home is still deemed a crime scene, so your parents book a hotel room. You’re lying in the firm, cold hotel bed when your phone buzzes with a text.

It’s from Rafe. It’s almost midnight and you saw him this morning, but it feels like it’s been weeks. You doing ok?

You reply: yes. my parents got back and we’re at a hotel. are you ok?

He doesn’t text back. You take that as a response in itself. Whatever you had is officially over.

The next afternoon, you can finally go home. The window Ty broke is repaired. You have an irrational fear of seeing his blood on the foyer floor when you walk back into your house, even after your parents confirmed with the cops that the scene has been cleaned up.

Rafe is trying to get used to the way life is now. It feels wrong not being around you. You’re all he thinks about. When he wakes up. As he goes to sleep.

He should have replied to your text. But how can he put into words just how not okay he is? He kept it under wraps for years, then opened up to you just to ruin things between you all over again.

It’s been almost a week since he’s seen you. Other Kooks are gossiping about what happened, spreading theories and lies. They know to quiet down when they realize Rafe is in earshot.

He’s not sure if people think you’re still together or not, but they seem to know better than to blabber about it when he’s around.

It’s Saturday night and people are scattered across the massive wraparound balcony facing the beach behind Tannyhill. Rafe’s preparing a line of coke, falling into his old escapist habits.

He misses you. He’s afraid things really are back to how they were. He wants to see you. He just needs to figure out how to make it happen.

It’s loud and crowded. You haven’t left your bedroom in days, but finally, you’ve stepped outside after your friends encouraged you to come to a party. It made it easier to accept the invite when you heard it was at Rafe’s house. You want to check on him, even if it’s from a distance.

You can feel people’s eyes on you when you enter the party. It’s uncomfortable, knowing your trauma is being gossiped about and picked apart.

Ty’s in jail, but sometimes that isn’t enough. You can’t get it out of your head, the way he looked when he broke in, frantic as he waved his gun around.

You’re gazing out at the setting sun as you stand on the balcony, slipping into your thoughts as your friends chatter around you.

You’re worried you’ll be afraid of your ex forever. The safest you’ve ever felt was with Rafe and that was temporary.

You instinctually look around for him. You don’t see him, but then there’s a break in the crowd, and you spot him sitting at a table, hunched over, ready to do a line.

It’s like nothing has changed. You see Rafe the way you’ve seen him throughout your adolescence, chasing a high and acting like you don’t exist. Even after everything that happened between you.

Rafe’s about to breathe in his first line of the night. Until his eyes meet yours. And then everything goes quiet.

His fear that things are how they were before is shattered. They can’t be. Because instead of looking away, he doesn’t want to tear his eyes off of you.

You think you’re giving something to him by giving him space, but you’re not. You’re taking happiness and peace and love away from him.

Your breath catches when you feel a rush of tears thickening in your throat. Your heart is broken from so many things, but it’s mostly from the role you played in breaking his.

You excuse yourself and rush into the house, hopeful nobody will see you cry. You’re not even sure where you’re going. You just know you want to be alone.

You end up in Rafe’s room, simply because it’s the only room in the house that gives you the level of comfort you’re craving. You gaze out of one of the windows as you try to calm yourself down.

You remember entering this house for the first time. His father and yours fell into conversation like old friends do and Rafe was at his mother’s side, just barely leaning on her, enough for comfort but not so much that he looked like he needed the crutch.

You kept glancing at each other while the adults talked and when he finally offered you a shy smile, you smiled back, and you don’t know if he felt it, too, but at that moment, you knew you were going to be friends.

You sit on his bed, hands on your knees as you breathe through the hurt.

The doorknob turns. Rafe flips on the light when he comes in, his eyes boring into you. You quickly wipe away your tears. He was the last person you expected to follow you.

“Hey,” he says, shutting the door. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry,” you say. “I can go.”

“No,” Rafe says. “What is it?”

You can’t put him through the honest answer.

“Sucks how everyone’s talking about it,” you say. Truthfully, you couldn’t care less about the gossip.

Rafe squints for a moment, slowly making his way to you, settling on the bed an inch away from you, his cologne drifting in the air.

“Is that really it?” he asks. You nervously clasp your hands, looking down. He knows that’s not really it. You can see from the corner of his eye that he’s still watching you.

You don’t answer.

“I hate myself for telling you,” Rafe mumbles. You wince at his words.

“You shouldn’t. It’s better that I know.”

“It’s not.” Rafe anxiously rubs his forehead. “It sounded so fucking wrong when you said it’s your fault. When I heard you say it out loud, it…”

It turned everything inside out. All he’s been thinking about these past few days is how and when to tell you this.

“You know when you said maybe it was your fault he wouldn’t leave you alone?” he asks.

You think back to that night when you confessed how terrible your relationship with Ty had been. You had told Rafe it’s easier for you to take responsibility because then you’re not just a victim.

“I can’t let you blame yourself like that again,” Rafe says. “You were a kid.”

“You really don’t blame me?” you ask.

“I don’t.” His words take a weight off of your shoulders.

“You were a kid, too, Rafe. You can’t blame yourself, either,” you say softly. “And if anyone else does, they’re wrong.”

You can tell by the way he grimaces that he’s been made to feel guilty for it by someone else. His father. You have no doubt about it.

“It’s different,” Rafe mutters.

“It’s not,” you reply. “You’re just as innocent as I am.”

Rafe knew his mother well. He knows she spent her last moments worrying about him, regretting that she made the decision to leave the house with him. She was an amazing mother. He’s sure she died thinking she wasn’t.

“I didn’t tell her I loved her,” he says, voice starting to falter. “The last chance I had.”

Your chest tightens.

“You know how you always picked flowers for her on our way up to the house?” you say. “And how she was so happy every time you gave them to her?”

The memory makes the corners of Rafe’s lips turn up in a smile. He didn’t know you remembered that.

“You spent time getting her flowers just to make her day, over and over,” you say. “You don’t have to tell someone you love them for them to know. You showed her in a million ways. She knew. I promise.”

Rafe’s been living in an unforgiving cycle of hating the world, looking for blame, all to keep from accepting the truth that there was no sense to what happened. No reason. It just happened. And it left him in pieces.

Your words give him a quiet feeling of freedom that he hasn’t felt in a long time. The cycle is addictive and comfortable, but it keeps him moving in circles. Getting him nowhere.

Talking about his mother doesn’t hurt as bad this time. Because you brought up a good memory, and he doesn’t picture her in the car like he always does, but he sees her downstairs, pinching his cheek, smiling, putting wildflowers in a small vase.

Rafe’s eyes find yours again. All he can feel is a warm, stirring gratitude sinking into him. His lips part for a second before he can reach for the words.

“Thank you,” he says. “How’ve you been?”

“It’s hard,” you admit. “I keep thinking I’m going to run into him. We’re just waiting on the trial to start and I wish I knew what’s going to happen.”

Rafe takes a deep breath. He’s terrified of letting you hear how dark his thoughts get, but right now, he’s as sure as he can be that you’re the one person in the world who wouldn’t look at him with judgement.

“I wanted to kill him,” Rafe mutters. “I would right now if I had the chance.”

He looks at you, scared as he awaits your response. You tilt your head and gaze at him with sorrowful eyes.

“I think if someone was doing something like that to you,” you say, “I’d feel the same way.”

Rafe knew you cared about him, but to know you feel just as intensely for him as he does for you is a relief. He’s still not sure he deserves it.

“How have you been after everything?” you ask.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, his words rushed. “I keep wanting to text or call but I don’t know how to say it.”

“How to say what?”

“How much I regret it all,” he says. Rafe combs a hand through his hair, heeling forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Every single time you tried to talk to me, I was such a dick to you. I’m sorry.”

You’ve imagined him saying this, but you thought it’d always stay a daydream. As you think about everything he’s told you, about how uncontrollable his thoughts can be and how badly he needs distractions and how utterly lonely he’s been, you feel nothing but forgiveness for him.

“You know that photo I took down?” you say. He nods, picturing the image of the four of you on the beach. “What happened, happened to that little kid. I think he handled things the only way he knew how.”

Rafe sits straight, tears threatening to form. You never run out of compassion for him. You’ve always been here, reminding him he’s human and that it’s okay to hurt and to need help.

His eyes are on yours again, and this time, he’s looking at you like he did the night before he kissed you. It’s like life is returning to his features, a pink hue blooming across his cheeks.

He recalls your words from your last night together. But you don’t want me in your life?

“I want you in my life, alright?” he says. He ducks his head just a bit, looking at you with a mix of infatuation and nerves. “If you still want to be in it.”

Your lips quiver with an endeared frown as you gaze at the multifaceted, complex, passionate man sitting in front of you.

“I do,” you say. Because the past few weeks have been so stressful, all you want right now is clarity. “You mean as a friend?”

“No,” Rafe scoffs, a smile quirking on his face again. “No. If you want that, we’ll do that. But I want more. Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up.”

You gaze at him through your lashes, feeling like you might just melt at the soft way he’s looking at you and speaking to you.

“Believe me,” Rafe says, “that I’ll be different. For real, this time. I don’t…” He sighs. “I never want you feeling like you’re bothering me. It’s the opposite. Every minute I’m not with you is just… it’s hell.”

He licks his lips from nervousness. He doesn’t like that you haven’t said anything yet.

“What are you thinking?” he asks.

You smile at him, bringing your hand to his, feeling that his knuckles have completely healed now. This right here is the moment you think you might be able to let go of the fear and instability and pain that’s existed between you for so long.

“I want more, too,” you tell him. He looks at you with furrowed brows almost like he’s in pain, like waiting for this has actually been hurting him.

Rafe hopes his impatience to kiss you isn’t too much for you when he leans forward, laying his lips to yours, but you meet him with the same hunger.

He holds you, cupping your cheek, stroking your skin with his thumb as your lips weave together. His tongue runs against yours and you raise your hands, one resting on the crook of his neck while the other runs over his hair.

With a quiet moan of pure desire, Rafe kisses harder, moving even closer to you so that your eyelashes overlap.

He separates to close his lips on your neck, trailing hot, desperate kisses over your throat. Then, Rafe’s fingers rest on your hips, fingertips dipping under your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” he asks huskily.

“Yes,” you breathe.

The slowly burning flame between you has sparked into a wildfire now. You feel the fabric of your top slowly dragging up your body, making you dizzy.

Rafe watches in awe as he pulls your shirt off you, all of his senses going hot when he watches the way your chest is rising and falling, the way your bra looks pushed against your body. He dips to kiss your neck again as he holds you at your waist.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he whispers, “or if I need to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you whisper back. Your hand drags over his hard jaw to pull him up to your lips again. Rafe is intoxicated by this feeling, by the promise of pleasure, by the pure joy of being wanted.

Your lips quietly smack together as his fingers skim up the side of your body, over your shoulder, down the line of your bra strap, finally wandering over your chest.

He massages you gently, earning breathy moans from you. With eyes still shut, you find the top button of his shirt, pulling it out of its loop slowly.

Your kisses grow even more impatient as you unbutton his shirt, moving down his chest, finally reaching the bottom. Your fingers slip under his collar, pushing his shirt down his shoulders.

Once Rafe’s shirt is on the floor, he leans against you, gently guiding you onto your back on his soft bed, still kissing you. You run your hands down the firm curve of his back, making him shudder into your mouth.

His fingers dip under your bra strap, feeling desperate to see you. His forehead presses against yours as he pulls back.

“Is this okay?” he rasps.

You nod and your breath hitches when he pulls the strap down over your shoulder and dips to kiss where it sat. His groin already feels so tight that it hurts.

Slowly, he lowers to kiss the valley between your breasts, making your heart pound even harder. When he finally pulls down the cup of your bra, seeing you bare draws a stunned, sharp intake of breath from him.

You rake your hand through his hair when you feel his hot mouth on you. You moan softly and the sound of you revelling in the pleasure he’s giving you puts him in an even deeper daze.

Rafe cups your waist and drags his hands to your back. You arch to give him just enough space to unhook your bra, and once he has full access to your chest, you shut your eyes as his tongue and hands roam over you.

He leaves wet kisses all over your chest and comes back up to capture your lips again. His movements are languid as he rests his hand between your legs and suddenly, your clothes feel suffocating. You’ve never needed someone more.

Rafe drags his fingers over you, pressing in gentle circles. You spread your legs wide as he hovers over you, holding himself up on his elbow.

His eyes are on you, full of lust and want, imagining how you’ll taste if you let him go that far. He sinks to dip his fingers beneath the band at your hips, pulling the clothing down your legs, taking his time.

He settles over you again, putting his hand back where it was, and even though there’s still one more layer of fabric to strip, he can feel you so much better.

You whimper as he drags his fingers over you, and then he lowers again, his head between your legs.

You meet Rafe’s gaze when he kisses you right over your panties, and the intimacy, the pure vulnerability thickens the air even more.

“Can I?” he mumbles, his breath warm. You nod in desperation.

He slides the last piece of clothing you have on off of you, and when his eyes drink you in, his heart pounds loud in his ears.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, dipping to kiss your inner thighs before finally tasting you. You breathe out shakily as his tongue curls against you, as his hands hook around the tops of your thighs, resting on your hips.

Your whole body is hot and trembling as he kisses and sucks and licks, worshipping every bit of you.

Rafe can’t get enough of you. He just started and he already dreads the thought of stopping.

Your hands sit on his and he squeezes your fingers as he buries his face against you, holding both your hands, gazing up to see the bliss written in your pretty features.

He shifts to bring one of his hands where his mouth is, gliding over you, working both on you to bring you to a mind-blowing climax that leaves you moaning.

Rafe holds himself up over you again, kissing you, letting you taste yourself, as you eagerly unbutton his jeans. He helps you pull his pants down and when you grip him over his boxers, he nearly whimpers in need.

You stroke slowly, your hand wrapped around him, the other pushing against his bare chest to gently lead him to lie on his back.

You drag his boxers down, looking at him with pure arousal. His face is twisted in pleasure when you put your mouth on him, tasting him, taking him in completely.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you if he tried. You slowly pick up your pace and he knows if you go any longer, he won’t last.

“Can we…” he rasps. You’re trembling in anticipation, already knowing what he’s asking.

You shift higher, resting on your knees, your bare bodies pressed together as you kiss him.

You lower your hand, holding him, dipping against him to just barely meet each other. It’d take just one buck of your hips to feel him inside you.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes,” he groans. “Go as slow as you need to.”

You nod, shuddering as you position yourself and slowly sink onto him. You moan in unison at the sensation of your bodies meeting this way.

When you finally take all of him in, you pause to revel in the feeling, breathing heavily, your cheeks brushing.

“I love you,” Rafe says, his deep voice weaved with awe.

You pull back to look at him, not sure if you heard him right. You take in the color of his eyes and the beauty of his edges and your heart has never felt like it was glowing until this very moment.

“I love you, too,” you half-whisper. He almost can’t come to grips with the fact that you said it back with such certainty. Like you have no doubt that he has a place in your heart.

You roll your hips, taking your time to adjust to him. His hands are at your waist as he enjoys the slow ecstasy of your warmth.

You hug him tightly as you slowly move up and down. Eventually, you can feel him tensing beneath you, and you want to give him the control to reach the pace he needs.

You lift off of him, kissing him before you shift onto your back. He doesn’t waste any time to settle over you, slowly pushing into you again.

You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve for Rafe, while he’s kept his caged. He thought he didn’t even have one anymore. But you remind him that he does have this side of him, that it still exists, that he wants to give all of it you.

“I love you,” he rasps again. “I love you. I love you.”

Bliss overwhelms you as you tenderly kiss his forehead. He gently rocks forward and back, filling you perfectly as his thrusts slowly quicken.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers into your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you say, wrapping your legs around him. His breaths quicken as he moves faster, writhing over you into a climax that makes him groan.

Your bodies are glistening with sweat, your breaths heavy. Rafe’s weight doesn’t leave you as he collapses in pleasure.

“Is it okay if I stay like this?” he asks.

“Yes,” you breathe. His face is nuzzled into your neck, panting as he breathes you in, still inside you, living in this perfect moment with you.

Rafe has felt homesick since he can remember. Even within the walls of his own bedroom. But you and the feeling you give him are home. Safety with no exceptions, love with no conditions.

“What’d I do to deserve you?” he mumbles against your skin.

“Exist,” you say with a gentle laugh.

Rafe plants lazy kisses against your neck as you hold him, slowly coming back to reality. There’s a whole party happening in his house, but in his world, it’s only you and him.

When he gets up, he isn’t prepared for how empty he feels when he loses the feeling of you wrapped around him. You lie next to him, facing each other with tired smiles.

“How was it?” he asks. The question sends you into a fit of laughter.

“You heard me, right?” you say, almost embarrassed from the sounds you made.

Rafe smirks and moves even closer to you, kissing you as you both lie on his pillow. You rest your palm on his face, gently tapping at the deep dimple in his cheek with your finger.

“You should show these more often,” you say.

“What?”

“Your dimples.”

He laughs, thinking to himself that he’ll do anything you want him to if you’ll keep loving him. He’s drunk on the feeling of the simplicity of being with you. It’s easy and pure.

Rafe asks if you want to shower together, and soon, you’re in his ensuite, standing under hot water ebbing over your skin.

Every movement between you is a slow expression of love, your bodies curved together as you share kisses and hold each other.

At one point, he’s clinging onto you, his lips pressed on your shoulder, and you’re holding him like you did the night in your house when he finally opened up completely.

Rafe is overcome by every emotion he’s feeling and it’s the first time in years that he cries without urging himself to stop. Because you’re here and you know everything and you still don’t want to leave.

You hold each other in bed wearing nothing but towels. He asks you if you want to go back out to the party and is relieved when you tell him you don’t.

“I’m falling asleep,” you eventually say, your legs tangled with his as he holds you. “I should go home.”

“No,” he says. “Why? Stay. Sleep here.”

You text your parents that you’re sleeping over. You know they’ll assume you’re staying in Sarah’s room, since you’ve done it so many times.

After you put your phone on Rafe’s nightstand, you snuggle into him, your head resting on his shoulder. You yawn, getting goosebumps from the way his fingers trail up and down your arm.

“Need a distraction?” you ask.

“No,” Rafe replies tiredly. For once, his mind isn’t racing. The mix of chaos and calm he thought he felt with you is no longer a mix at all. It’s just calm. It’s just peace.

You wake up in Rafe’s arms, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek and his breaths on the top of your head. It feels unreal recounting last night, remembering the amount of times he told you he loves you.

You shift slowly to get out of bed, putting on your bra and underwear and slipping into his bathroom. He’s sitting up in bed when you come back out. His eyes immediately trail down your body, a smile growing on his face.

“What?” you ask.

“You’re just…” Rafe exhales, resting his arm out on the bed in a way to beckon you to come back. “Perfect.”

“You mean as a friend?” you joke. You settle back into bed on your knees as he chuckles.

“Fuck no,” he answers, making you laugh. “Do you have to leave?”

“I don’t,” you say. Your body warms when you see the relief on his face. Now that you’ve sealed the rift that lived between you for so long, you can see just how badly Rafe wants you around.

But it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore. This feels right. Like you were meant to be with him all along.

“Would you wanna go down to the water?” you ask.

He nods. It’s like your kids again; he’d go anywhere you want just to see you smile.

It’s a windy morning by the sea. The sun is covered by clouds as you sit on the private beach next to Rafe. He drapes an arm around you, rubbing your arm to keep you warm. He feels like now that he’s been given permission to touch you, he can’t stop.

“The hours we spent out here,” you mumble. Rafe gazes at your profile as you look out at the horizon.

The dark blue sea makes you think of all the possibilities, of everything to come. You turn to catch him staring.

“I didn’t…” Rafe gently shakes his head. He didn’t know this was possible. “You know how people say they can feel someone around them after they… after they die?”

You nod. He feels guilty as hell with what he’s about to say.

“I never did,” he admits. Your face drops in shock and sadness. You can’t imagine how lonely he’s felt. “But right now, it’s like… it’s like she’s about to call us up to eat. I can feel her here.”

You feel like your heart is whole and broken at the same time. You lean to kiss his cheek over and over, the waves crashing in the distance.

“I need to stop trying to forget her,” Rafe says sadly.

He glances down at the sand, and you can tell anxiety is starting to grip him. You take a deep breath before you speak.

“I think she’d understand why you did,” you say. “What do you think about getting her flowers?”

Blue eyes find yours. He hasn’t visited her grave in years. If he does today, he’ll need you with him.

“Yeah,” he says simply, dusting the sand off his jeans as he heads to the patch of grass by the boardwalk.

The cemetery is quiet and tranquil. You drove over on his motorcycle, holding onto him tighter than you needed to. Your shoes pad over the paved walkway, feeling more and more nervous as you approach where she rests.

The headstone isn’t as big as Rafe remembers, but he figures it’s because he was much smaller when he visited last. He starts to cry as soon as he sees the photo of her in the center of the plaque. He forgot that was there.

Tears burn your eyes when you watch him slowly drop to his knees, his hands splayed on the lush grass.

You read the epitaph over and over again. When love is eternal, life cannot die.

Rafe forgot that he was holding the flowers he picked and he realizes he broke some stems, but when he looks at her photo again, he puts the flowers right at the corner of the headstone, knowing she was always happy with any bouquet he gave her, no matter the condition.

You sink beside him, resting a hand on his back.

“Should I talk?” he stammers. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You do whatever feels right,” you reply.

“Can you talk?” he asks.

“Yes,” you say. You’ve been yearning to talk like this with him for years. “You know you have her smile?”

“Really?”

“Yes,” you say. “It’s one of the reasons I love seeing you happy.”

Rafe nods, a tear dripping off his chin. He needs you to keep talking.

“And I remember she was always winking at me,” you say. “I don’t know if you saw.”

“She did that because she knew I had a crush on you,” Rafe mumbles. You smile sadly, rubbing his back.

“I’m pretty sure she knew I had one on you, too,” you say. “She was so smart and so sweet. Everyone could see how much she loved being your mom.”

Rafe offers you a grateful smile.

“I miss her,” he says, his voice brittle.

“Me, too,” you reply. “I’m sorry. I can go back to the parking lot if you want?”

You’re offering to give him time alone here. And to his surprise, he nods. He can do this. You kiss his temple and give him the moment he needs.

Rafe is sitting in silence for a minute before he finds the words. He stares at her photo.

“I’m sorry I made you drive that night,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry I always got mad at you when you called me your baby. I just wanted to grow up and you told me to enjoy being young and you were right.”

He clears his throat.

“I’m sorry I dug myself into a hole and tried to forget you. But I think she’s right. You’d understand.”

He cracks a small smile, remembering when he first told his mom he liked you, how nervous and giddy he felt.

“Still want to marry her,” he says. He can hear the way she laughed when her ten-year-old son told her he hoped you’d be his wife one day, but he’d still want to live at home so he’d beg for you to move in. “She never left my side, mom. I gave her every reason to but I think she saw how much I was hurting.”

Rafe promises her he won’t let so much time pass before he visits again. And when he finds you standing by his bike, he holds you so tightly that he feels your heart beating against his.

Everything is different for him now. He hasn’t had the comfort of permanence in his life for a long time. He can’t believe you want him, even after you’ve seen the worst of him.

Rafe never takes his hands off of you. At every party, on every date, he always has to be touching you in some way to remind himself that he has you for real.

It takes a few tries, but he manages to quit coke. And eventually, he quits waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for you to decide he isn’t worth the effort.

He’s with you every step of the trial. The lawyer says Ty getting five years in prison is a win, but he thinks the only win would be a life sentence.

Eventually, the trauma loses its power over you. You feel safe. Not because your ex is locked up, but because Rafe is with you.

You stand by him for everything. Every breakdown he has, every time he sinks into his grief, every storm that reminds him of the worst night of his life. You never leave.

You love him for long enough that he finally believes if someone as amazing as you can see something in him, it must be there.

Epilogue

You didn’t ask for much for the wedding. One thing that you were sure about was that you wanted an event artist, someone to paint the day on a canvas to capture it in a unique way.

Rafe is happy to to along with it, but then again, he’s like that with everything when it comes to you. You could never ask too much from him. He’ll forever feel like he owes you for never giving up on him.

The banquet hall is massive and beautifully decorated, and you can hardly hear your own thoughts over the crowd’s chatter and elegant music. The day has been a whirlwind.

When the artist waves you over, you take Rafe’s hand.

“Want to see the painting?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says, beaming at you simply because of how excited you are.

You had secretly asked the artist to include Anne in the painting. When your eyes land on the canvas, seeing her drawn in with everyone else who stood at the altar warms your heart.

You look up at Rafe, whose mouth is just slightly agape. He stares at his mother’s image, smiling behind him, then looks down, scratching the back of his neck and finding your hand before he leads you away.

“Just a second,” you say to the artist before you let Rafe take you to a dressing room past the hallway.

He shuts the door behind you, facing you with glossy eyes.

“Did I mess up?” you say worryingly. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to surprise you. I thought you’d like it.”

“Hey,” Rafe says softly, hands on your cheeks. “I love it. I just didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. I’ve been barely keeping it together today.”

You laugh in relief, tipping your chin so he’ll kiss you. His lips meet yours. You’re pretty sure your guests could tell he got teary-eyed when he watched you walk down the aisle, but you’ll spare him that detail.

Rafe finds relief from your touch, like always. His mom was here today. He felt it. He feels her all the time now. And you’re still a reminder, but in the best possible way, because you show him that he can remember the good parts. That he can feel love even after someone’s left. That he doesn’t need to carry guilt. That he can look forward to the future.

Apart from the second he became your husband, this is the best moment you’ve had today, because it’s just you two, just like it was when you were kids on the beach, enjoying each other’s company, never wanting to part.

(the end) (continuation blurbs)

author’s note thank you to everyone who stuck with this series 💘 ps did you know tumblr has a text block limit? learned that the hard way lmao. so i’m sorry that some paragraphs got long! hated to sacrifice my structure but had to do it to keep all 10k+ words in 😋

[hyunsvngs]

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐧 - baseball player bfb!kim seungmin x fem reader

wc: 14.2k

cw: enemies to lovers, very mean dom seungmin, mc makes out w chan in a friend way, mc is dramatic and a brat, seungmin is done w her shit but is very possessive, SMUT MDNI

synopsis: you love your best friend, you hate her baseball playing brother. he’s not been home for a few years during your summers back home, so you can’t wait for another amazing summer - until he returns home.

a/n: thank u all for being so excited abt this <3 sorry for the length. smut warnings under the cut!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: very mean dom seungmin (again), face slapping, borderline exhibitionism, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, heavy dirty talk, reader is a brat, breeding kink, reader is a painslut, begging

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When you were a mere three years old, you met your platonic soulmate in the form of Kim Sieun. She had the exact same humour as you, loved climbing on the monkey bars and she had a dog. It was your three best friend criterias fulfilled. When she first invited you to her house for a playdate, you were thrilled, and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

You’ve been through everything together. Your first break-ups, your first hangovers, first parties, you name it - you’ve both been present for each other’s momentous events. You were pretty sure you’d both started your periods on the exact same day. She really was the other part of you, the second silver heart piece to your cheap friendship chain you’ve worn for years around your neck. 

The biggest heartbreak was when you moved away to attend university, and Sieun stayed to begin a full-time job immediately after graduation. You’d been separated after being by each other's side for so long, when everything had been so perfect for you two up until then, only miniscule, small-term problems. 

Well, perfect apart from one thing. 

Her brother. Kim Seungmin was the bane of your existence. Ever since he met you, two years older than both you and Sieun, he found it funny to ruffle your hair and make fun of how shy and timid you were. It’s something you’d brush off now, being the person you grew into - confident, loud, straight up stubborn as some might say. When you were younger, though, this cut deep. You’d had your first ever crush on him, and confided in Sieun about the matter, to which she’d giggled and fake-gagged as if she wouldn’t be overjoyed to have you in the family. You’d had your first ever crush on him, and he’d made fun of you for years after as if he knew. You cannot stand him now. Even being in the same room as the guy boiled your blood. 

It was one of the reasons why you got rid of that personality. That wasn’t you. You were shy and timid because you were only a kid, God damn it! You’d love to say it hadn’t affected you, but it had, and you and Seungmin had bickered ever since you gained enough confidence to fight back. It was actually something Sieun found very amusing, insisting that the two of you were fated soulmates. 

Still, as you stood in the airport waiting for Sieun’s arrival to pick you up, you felt blessed. Coming home for the summer was always exciting. You got to see old friends, who would almost always have parties, and another exciting part was that you’d be staying with Sieun for a solid three weeks of it. It was going to be the best summer ever. Your parents had decided to go away on holiday two days before your arrival back home, and you couldn’t have felt more satisfied with the development.

Oh, and - Kim Seungmin would not be there. No, while you were a student busting your ass to make ends meet, Seungmin had obtained a full baseball scholarship to university and went straight into pro baseball once he’d finished. Of course he did. You tried not to let it bother you anymore, that he was so fucking successful while being so smarmy. It wound you up beyond belief, so you just avoided thinking about the guy altogether. 

Clutching onto your suitcase handle, you almost vibrated with excitement when Sieun’s half-dead car pulled up. Honestly, she’d had the same car since you were seventeen, and it hadn’t been fully working then. It was even worse after a few years. She kept saying she’d get her dad to look at it, but she was always out and about doing god knows what in said half broken car. It was a death trap.

Immediately, you saw the car door swing open - and almost fall off completely - when her engine completely stopped. Sieun bustled out of the car to the loading area of the airport, her puppy eyes wide and her legs shaking. She was going to scream, or jump, or die. Maybe all three. You weren’t doing much better - your eyes brimmed with tears when you embraced Sieun in a death grip of a hug. 

“I- missed- you- God, can’t breathe-“ Sieun grunted, trying to push you off. You pulled away, still with teary eyes as you gazed up at her. She was taller than you, almost matching her brother’s height. The whole family was relatively tall. As soon as you both looked at eachother, Sieun was gripping you in a firm hug again, and it was your turn to get suffocated. 

Once you’d eventually stopped hugging each other and crying - it had been approximately five months since you saw each other last - Sieun loaded your suitcase into the car and all but pushed you into the passenger seat. You groaned as you kicked through multiple McDonald’s cups to try and get your feet flat on the floor. Sieun simply giggled, settling into the driver’s seat. 

She plugged in her seatbelt, starting to drive back to her family home. “So, how’s college been? Any cute guys?”

“Sieun, I called you every week, you know what’s happened,” you laughed, playing around with the settings on her car to try and get the radio on. Did it even have a radio?

“The radio’s broken.” Of course it is. Well, it couldn’t get any worse - you’d already failed the Bechdel test. 

You leaned back against the seat, fingers playing with the friendship necklace chain. You hummed, trying to think of something Sieun may not know. “Well, there was this one guy. Super my type. Stoic, a little bit bitchy, you know? Dark hair, and all that. But when we ended up sleeping together, there was no chemistry.”

Sieun groaned in sympathy. “You know, I hate that! You really like a guy, and then he doesn’t even know where the clit is. It really pisses me off. How’s classes though?”

Sieun normally didn’t ask this many questions straight off the bat, especially not ones she knew the answers to. She was distracting you, sweetening you up by acting like she was just so interested in you. Something was fishy, and it wasn’t the strange smell of her car. When you turned to look at her, her plump lips were pouted as usual, covered in lip gloss - but there was an unmistakable twitch to them. Her eyes were narrowed, staring at the road ahead of her. She was hiding something.

You blinked. She started humming along to a song on the radio. There was no song on. Said radio was broken. “Sieun. What gives?”

Sieun sighed, slamming her hands down on the steering wheel. “Okay! I didn’t know how to tell you. I know this was meant to be our super amazing summer, face masks and beaches and just general slaying, so I didn’t want to ruin it.”

You realised you were arriving onto her street, the big house always taking you by surprise. You wanted to focus on Sieun’s words, but you were instead distracted by the driveway. Sieun’s parents shared a car, and Sieun had her own car. 

There were two cars in the driveway. Sieun’s parents’ car, a silver tank of a thing that looked like it could get through a boulder. Then, a sleeker car, perhaps closer to a sports car - much cleaner, much more expensive… with a personalised licence plate. No. No.

“My brother’s home.”

You wanted to die. Gone were your slay summer plans - now you’d be perpetually arguing with your best friend’s annoying older brother. He did absolutely everything deliberately to piss you off. Taking way too long in the bathroom brushing his teeth while you needed to pee, disconnecting the games controller when you were finally about to finish a boss fight… just petty activities like that. 

Why now? Why had he chosen this summer to come home, when he’d been away for every other summer playing baseball or whatever he does? No. He didn’t deserve to be back right now. You shook your head at Sieun. “I’m not going to let him ruin our awesome summer.” 

Sieun spluttered out a laugh. “Okay, Seungmin’s not the devil. You two bicker like an old married couple, y’know. Maybe there’s-“

“Shut. It.”

You didn’t have the time or the patience to hear yet another ten minute long spiel about how Sieun and her parents strongly believed that you and Seungmin were fated soulmates. The little patience you had completely disappeared when a figure bounded up to the car window. You turned to stare through the glass. 

Kim Seungmin. Stood there, beaming at you with that dumb smile that he always had when he was ready to wind you the fuck up. You had thanked every single god that your window was still rolled up, maybe you could just hide until he got bored and left - until Sieun rolled the window down with an evil chuckle. 

Then, you looked at him - like, really looked at him. The chubby cheeks he’d once possessed had disappeared with age, now sporting some nice looking cheekbones and a sharp jawline. The braces were gone, pearly white teeth showing with his smile, and his hair. God, his hair. He’d dyed the front of his hair blonde, and it was just slightly parted in the middle to show his forehead. He cocked his head at you, eyes glinting with menacing delight at your appearance. Oh no.

“Welcome back, brat.”

The bane of your existence had gotten fucking hot.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It had just gotten worse. Once he’d pretended to have an ounce of chivalry by helping you take your suitcase inside, Seungmin had immediately reverted to the person he was the last time you saw him. Which was a while ago, by that point, since he’d always been too busy playing baseball games to make an appearance in your life for the past few years. You hadn’t really seen him since you went to university. It honestly made you feel relieved, but now you’d seen him - well, he was definitely better looking than he had been. That fact was only reinforced to you as you walked through their long hallway, taking in all the family pictures that had been up for so many years. You were even in a few of them, chubby cheeks and acne galore as you stood with your arm around Sieun. 

You’d stared at him all the way through dinner, in all honesty. After your second, adopted parents had greeted you and Sieun’s mother had cried upon seeing how much you’d grown - you hadn’t grown since you were thirteen, being on the shorter side of things - you’d all sat down to eat the hearty meal that she'd prepared. Seungmin sat in front of you in his assigned place, something you previously would’ve hated, but you could at least analyse him.

Yeah, something had changed. He was aesthetically pleasing, but you hadn’t forgotten his fucking behaviour. He was a menace. You shoved another forkful of the homemade lasagne in your mouth, furrowing your eyebrows at the boy sitting in front of you. 

His eyes flickered to look at you, but you didn’t even think about looking away. His eyes were so dark. Stoic, almost, and he was like… okay, yeah, he looked like your ex-fling from college. That’s weird. It didn’t even stop you maybe bordering on finding Seungmin attractive, as much as it put you off of your lasagne to even think of the concept.

“Can you stop fucking staring at me?” Seungmin hissed, his fork clattering down to the plate with an eye watering noise. You huffed, reaching forward to stab him with your knife before Sieun yanked your hand back. 

“Who said I was staring at you? I’m eating my fucking food, you heathen, and everytime I look up your ugly face is right in front of me-”

“Oh, I missed this!” Sieun’s mother smiled, her eyes fond. “Let me just get a camera, and I can take a picture of you three.”

Later on, in Sieun’s room, you both sat with your legs laid up against the headboard and sheet masks on your face. The anger was still burning in your stomach, but you were trying not to let everything revolve around him, like it always did. 

“So, we’re going to watch Seungmin’s baseball game tomorrow. Mum and dad are super excited about it,” Sieun said, painting your nails where your hand laid on her stomach. You groaned, feet kicking against the wall with small thuds. Sieun’s hand paused with the tiny paint brush, turning to look at you through narrowed eyes. “You don’t think he… looks different? Everyone’s been saying that since he came home.”

“Looks different?” You snickered. “Still looks pretty fucking weird to me. Seriously, how are the two of you even related? You’re pretty, nice, funny, and he’s so fucking- ugh! I can’t even explain it, and he-”

Sieun snorted. “You think he’s hot.”

You gasped, pulling your hand away. The nail polish smeared all over your finger, which was decidedly the one you used to point menacingly towards your lifelong best friend. “I do not! He’s gotten taller, yeah. The hair’s… different, but that’s the only thing that’s changed. He’s still fucking annoying, even after getting his braces off, and-”

“And you’ve noticed all these things about him,” Sieun sighed, leaning up and readjusting her whole body to sit cross legged, facing you. She put the paintbrush back in the nail polish bottle. The sheet mask made her look a lot less friendly than she was trying to be. The Sheet Mask Murderer could be a good horror film, you pondered, as she stared at you. “Bestie, I’m not going to be upset if you have a crush on my brother, you know? I know he’s grown up in the past year, and so have you. Things could be different now, and… you could be part of the family, officially, I guess.”

You screwed up your face, shock painting your expression. The sheet mask got caught in the lines of your forehead. “You’re deranged, Sieun. You know that, right? Like, you’ve actually lost the plot this time.”

Sieun sighed, fingers reaching to peel the sheet mask off of her face. “I have always been deranged.”

“Well, yeah, there is that.”

She flopped back down next to you, dark hair splaying around her head like a halo. “We will still have the best summer. I promise you.”

“Okay, my conditions are that we have to go to a lot of cool parties, get amazingly drunk and maybe fuck one or two people. Deal?”

“Um, duh? Deal.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’d dreaded the baseball game all day. For starters, you were going to see baseball, something you had absolutely no clue about. Secondly, it was your literal enemy’s baseball game. It was also one of his pro games, and was taking place at a massive stadium where just about everyone seemed to know who Seungmin was and who his family was. You’d already had to witness Sieun posing with a peace sign for multiple selfies with fans once you’d all found your seats, and Sieun’s mother had already put an arm around you to show you exactly where Seungmin would be once the game started.

“He’ll be over there,” She pointed to a part of the field. You didn’t really care. You had no clue what baseball was or any of its rules - just that there were bats and they hit balls and ran. You decided that was all you needed to know. You weren’t going to do any research for it, not if it was him playing. 

You and Sieun had dressed up, too, because Sieun had thankfully found a beach party for you all to go to later. ‘All’ sadly included Seungmin and his gaggle of just as annoying friends. The only one you really got on with was Chan, who was mature and seemed to be ageing ten times quicker due to the stress the rest of the group caused him. You both kissed when you were drunk and had agreed you were just friends who liked to kiss, which was optimal for you, really. You had decided that you would dress up nicely in a borderline slutty white dress and sandals for the party, and you had makeup on. It was most definitely for the party, and not for any other reason.

When the game started, you thought you were going to have a heart attack and die. While Sieun and her family were cheering out Seungmin’s name, all you saw was that ass in tight, pinstripe trousers. He was grinning, waving over to your section - definitely not at you, he hated you and you were literally looking at him with the most shocked expression in that moment. He looked good. You decided it was okay to admit that mentally, because no one was ever going to hear you say it. His ass looked peachy and you wanted to bite into it like it was one, and maybe see what the front of his body looked like - all of it.

It all looked good, at least when he was wearing clothes. Broad shoulders pulled that jersey tight around them, and his hat was pulled low to almost obscure his dark eyes. When he rolled his neck, clicking it out with one broad hand before grabbing the ball, you knew your panties were wet. Soaking, actually, because he looked so broad and so tall and so fucking powerful on that pitch. You’d always had a thing for men who looked like they could fuck you like you were beneath them. The fleeting thought that Seungmin would definitely do just that caused your cheeks to blaze.

Obviously, his team won. Obviously he did, because then you had to stand there afterwards when his whole family hugged him and you just stood there kicking pebbles before wincing that it hurt your bare toes. Fuck sandals. Fuck Seungmin. 

Once he’d hugged Sieun, he turned to you, cheeks slightly pink from the exertion of the sport. You briefly thought about how baseball wasn’t even that tiring. One stripe of black paint on his cheek caught your eye when you looked at him. When Sieun elbowed your side, you looked up, arms folded across your chest. Seungmin blinked at you, hands in his pockets with a cocky smirk. You knew what he was waiting for. 

Mumbling, you spoke - “Congrats.”

“Say it properly, brat.”

“Fuck you, I don’t say what you want me to say!” You kicked a pebble at him successfully, smiling in accomplishment when it bounced off of his knee. He simply scowled, repeating what you said in a meh bleh, bleh bleh type of way. When you let your arms drop from your chest to strangle him to the floor Bart and Homer style, Sieun gripped you by the back of your bodycon dress and dragged you back to stand next to her. 

“Go get changed for the party, Seungie,” She said, keeping you in her hand like you were a rabid dog on a leash. “And you. You can’t just try to strangle my brother-”

“How did you even know I was going to strangle him?”

“Because, it’s not the first time!” Sieun shouted, stomping her feet like a child. She finally stopped holding onto you, huffing as she turned to look at you fully. Seungmin’s parents had left to get to the car, insisting on giving you all a lift to the beach where the party was held. Your parents would never. You’d lost count of how many times you had blisters from walking back from somewhere five miles away because your mother was engrossed in another show on television. Seungmin raised an eyebrow at the both of you. 

“I’m gonna go get changed.” He finally spoke, waving towards the direction of the locker room. You grimaced.

“Okay, and? I don’t care,” When you watched Seungmin walk away, eyes unable to tear away from that tight ass in those trousers, you could practically feel Sieun’s own eyes boring into your face. Finally turning to look at her, you saw a slight smile on her lips. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything, bestie.”

You stormed off to the car, in a foul mood now that you’d been caught by Sieun ogling her own brother. Just to make matters worse, you had been designated to shimmy into the middle seat of the back because you were the smallest, so you’d be sat in between the two siblings. Brilliant. Just ideal, really. Thankfully, Sieun’s parents had already put the air con on. The heat of the summer had been killing you in that packed baseball stadium. 

“So, what did you think of Seungmin?” Sieun’s dad asked you. He looked a lot like Seungmin actually, just an aged version with salt and pepper hair. You smiled politely, about to respond before Sieun cut you off.

“Dad, don’t. She’s already wound up.” You wanted to kiss Sieun. You could not discuss what had just happened, including the game. You’d spent the whole time drooling over the bane of your existence. When Seungmin finally got to the car, you side eyed him in order to see what he was wearing, and were more than pleased to see he was in a light grey t-shirt and baggy blue jeans. Good. Nothing tight. 

The beach party was packed when you arrived there. A lot of sweaty young adults smoking weed, drinking and perched around a campfire or dancing near the portable speaker playing music quietly. All you could think about was how much you deserve a drink after the day’s events, and you were quick to drag Sieun over to Chan when you spotted him. Dark curly hair hidden under a hat and a sleeveless black tank top. Unmistakably Chan, and also unmistakably someone who would donate alcohol to a good cause. 

He immediately looked up at you, his smile wide with dimples adorning his cheeks. You saw Seungmin flop down next to some other friends he had from the corner of your eye. Chan caught your attention though, handing you and Sieun a beer each. “Hello, you. Welcome back to the town.” 

“Channie!” You squealed, taking the beer from him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He subsequently pulled you onto his lap and Sieun giggled, sitting in the sand next to him. You’d always been close with Chan, and you wouldn’t be lying if you said you found him attractive. Those arms showing in the sleeveless top were definitely doing something for you that night, but you weren’t sure if it was the pent up aggression from earlier. You immediately pressed the beer to your lips at the thought, swigging down a lot of the liquid. 

Then, it just felt like the drinks kept coming. Over and over you were drinking beers that were handed to you by either Chan or Changbin, one of the others you were friendly with, and you found yourself becoming tipsy and slouching on Chan’s lap. The fire burned your eyes a bit when you stared into it, but you were still giggling, leaning your head back on Chan’s shoulder.

Seungmin glowered, turning to Sieun and speaking almost inaudibly. “Stop her drinking. She’s making a fool of herself, all over Chan like that.”

“They’re friends, you idiot. She’s not even drunk, they’re just always like that!” You didn’t have time to thank Sieun for defending you immediately against her own brother because Hyunjin was coming over to you with two small plastic shot glasses. One sniff of the liquid proved it was vodka, a fact you weren’t surprised about - Hyunjin loved to get utterly white-girl-wasted at any party. His smile was wide and eyes half-lidded already when he looked at you. 

“This is for you,” Hyunjin whispered. His fringe almost obscured his face as he handed a shot glass to you, and offered the other to Chan. Chan held out his hand, pushing it softly back to Hyunjin. Hyunjin literally just shrugged his shoulders, toasting your own shot before knocking his own back. He didn’t even make a face when taking shots, which was probably the fact about Hyunjin you were most jealous of - along with his ethereal beauty, obviously. You grimaced when the liquid hit your own taste buds, glugging it back thankfully. You couldn’t gag on Chan right now. 

The music filled your ears as the sun began to set. Someone had turned the speaker up just a bit louder, and Jisung had started to dance and embarrass himself. It was the usual behaviour. You saw Changbin chatting to some girls you and Sieun had gone to school with, and Sieun got up to go and join, leaving Seungmin chatting with the other boys on the other side of the bonfire. You sat quite happily on Chan’s lap, listening to him telling a story from work.

“I mean, it was insane. Hannie quite literally wrote this entire song in like, five minutes. We were all super drunk. I have no idea how he did it,” Chan said, hands flying everywhere in his story. You blinked at him for a moment, processing who Hannie was. Ah. Han Jisung. Hannie. The round-cheeked boy was still twerking across from you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m just a bit tipsy now,” You giggled, nuzzling into his cheek. Chan laughed at your level of clinginess, hand placed on your hip comfortingly. “Sorry, Channie.”

“That’s okay. Hey, remember a few years ago? You always wanted kisses from me and Changbin when you were drunk, heh,” Chan looked at you, eyes fond. When you finally looked into his eyes, it was like your brain caught up with what he was saying. Kisses? God, that’d be so good.

“Kisses. Oh my God,” You whispered, eyes wide. Chan threw his head back, hand over his face while he laughed this time. “Channie.”

Chan sighed, finally looking at you. “Yes? What is it?” He knew what it was. You surged forward, pressing a familiar friendly kiss to his plump lips. He raised his eyebrows in shock, pulling you back by his grip on your hips.

“I cannot kiss you right now. Seungmin is there, and he is looking at us.”

“Who cares about that guy? He’s an ass,” You mumbled, pressing your lips to Chan again. Chan sighed into the kiss, finally giving up and letting his lips brush against yours. You loved kissing Chan. It was always so fun, so familiar, just two friends making out when drunk. It was one of your favourite pastimes, to be honest. You were just getting into the kiss when you felt hands on your waist, scooping you up and throwing you over one broad shoulder. You heard Chan laugh while you were disoriented, trying to work out whose shoulder you were even on and why are you walking away from the beach party?! You were having so much fun! 

“What is goin’ on?!” You shrieked, legs flailing around. You were slurring at this point, and you even heard Sieun giggling over the music. Finally, you heard a sigh as the feet of the body you had been stolen by started to wade through the sand and onto the street.

“We are going home. That’s what’s fucking going on,” Seungmin. You grimaced, wriggling to try and get off of his shoulder, but the grip he had on your body was unbelievable. “Why the hell were you doing that?”

“Doing what? Kissing Chan? I always kiss Chan.”

“I don’t want you to do that anymore, okay?” You huffed at his words, resorting to slamming your fists on his back as he walked quickly down the street. He didn’t even flinch. “Are you listening to me, brat? I don’t want you doing that.”

“You are not my fucking dad, Kim Seungmin. You don’t decide who I kiss!” You sounded like a petulant child, whining and squirming around to be put down on your feet. Finally, Seungmin grabbed your hips with both hands, placing you down on the floor. Cars were speeding past you as you both stood on the pavement. You crossed your arms over your chest, vision slightly blurry from the intoxication and body covered in sand. Seungmin didn’t look to be doing any better, beige specks of sand in his dark hair and his grey t-shirt completely covered. He shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head when looking at you.

“I may not decide who you kiss, but I’m gonna be mad if you do that again. Got it?” Seungmin was stoic, sharp as he spoke in a monotone voice towards you. You furrowed your eyebrows. What? Why did it matter? “He’s my friend.”

“Okay, and? I don’t care.” You repeated your words from earlier. Seungmin huffed, blowing a strand of blonde hair from his forehead. You looked at him. He looked at you. Then, he was turning around, walking down the road in the direction towards his house. You gasped, appalled that he’d leave you there on the side of the road like some kind of bag of trash. 

After a few long strides, you heard him groan faintly in the distance. He stopped dead still, turning around to you with a grimace. “Are you coming, or?”

You stood your ground. “Nope.”

“Fine, stay there and be killed by a raccoon or something, fucking brat. Or worse, an actual murderer. Wouldn’t that be scary? A murderer just killing you while you’re standing there in your sandals. Can’t even protect yourself, can’t throw your shoe at him like you do with me because what harm will sandals do-” Seungmin stopped talking when you ran at him, eyes wide as you wrapped your arm around his own. He huffed, trying to shake your arm off of his, but you held on tightly. Your bottom lip quivered. You were such a baby when it came to scary things like raccoons and murderers. 

“‘M scared now, Seungmin.” You whispered, leaning your head on his arm. You could practically sense Seungmin rolling his eyes as he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close to his warm body. 

“Only five minutes now. Five minutes and we’ll be home, okay?” You nodded, trying to keep up with the strides of his long legs. 

In bed that night, laying in Sieun’s bed sans Sieun, you couldn’t help but wonder just what the fuck that was. Seungmin was almost nice for a moment. Sure, he’d had that weird freak out about you kissing Chan - that was strange - but then he’d not left you on the side of the road. A few years ago, he would have left you on the pavement and then proceeded to go get a car to run you over on said pavement. He had changed.

Kim Seungmin was hot. You’ll admit that, unfortunately. But now Kim Seungmin was hot and he had morals, too. 

That one would be hard to process.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The next morning, you were woken up by Sieun’s arm across your forehead and her soft snores in your ear. You briefly felt extremely guilty for making sure she hadn’t gotten home safe, but judging by her still sleeping, she’d left after you’d fallen asleep. You wanted to wake her, to ask her what the fuck her brother’s deal was, but you settled on heading downstairs to get some breakfast and calm your stomach. It felt like a bomb had gone off in there. 

You started to make your way downstairs to get breakfast, but you walked straight into Seungmin’s chest as soon as you left Sieun’s bedroom. He stood with a mug of coffee in his hands, blinking down at you like you were, in fact, a bomb that had just gone off in front of him. 

You stared up at him, eyes wide. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Move, brat.”

Oh. So he was just going to forget him being borderline nice ever happened? What a fucking- ugh! You scoffed, looking down at the coffee. 

“You know this isn’t your room right, dumbass? Take your coffee into your own room.” Seungmin rolled his eyes, barging past you to stand by the door.

“It’s for my sister, dumbass.” You wanted to ask where’s mine, then, but Seungmin would only laugh at you and move on with his life. It annoyed you beyond belief that Seungmin had actually been nice to you the night before and then continued to act like absolutely nothing happened. You wanted to positively kick him across the face like the Mortal Kombat games he used to unplug your controller on.

Still, you had hope for the summer. Two straight days of hell would not change your mind. You just had to get through today, a chill, relaxing day with Sieun where you both nursed slight hangovers and probably cried over making mistakes the night before. Then there was hope for some fun tomorrow. 

Tomorrow was the annual camping trip with your friend group. It only went on for one night, in the woods close to your actual home a few streets away, but it was something everyone looked forward to. Unfortunately, given that your friend group was also Seungmin’s friend group, and that he was back now, it meant he would be there. This was unlike the annual camping trips before, and you were dreading his presence. You just had to avoid him, and he wouldn’t stop you kissing your friends. He wouldn’t stop you having fun if you just acted like he wasn’t there. The thought made your blood boil. 

You hid in the bathroom until you heard Seungmin’s footsteps recede back into his bedroom, and then you emerged. Fuck breakfast. You needed a good heart-to-heart with your best friend. Stomping back into the bedroom, you were met with Sieun’s eyes still only half open, just about emerging from above the mug.

“Oh, hey,” Sieun mumbled. She blew the hot liquid in the cup and then took a sip, humming with satisfaction. You stood there, arms crossed across your chest and foot tapping with annoyance. Sieun looked at you. You looked at her, a frown on your lips. She sighed. “What’s he done now?”

“Well, what the fuck was last night, Sieun?!” You exclaimed, throwing your body down on the bed. Sieun snorted, sounding like she was holding back a laugh. “Sieun, he picked me up and took me from a party. What was that? And, and! On the way home, he was kind of being… nice?! Then, just now, this morning, he was being absolutely horrible again!”

“And this annoys you because…? You’re always horrible to each other, sweetie.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” You huffed, turning over to scream into a pink heart pillow on Sieun’s bed. “He’s coming tomorrow, too. Like, as if it could get any worse!”

Sieun hummed. You heard the mug clink onto the bedside table, probably to live next to another ten mugs for about three weeks. “I’ll make sure he’s on his best behaviour.”

You grumbled into the fabric. Then, as if you’d completely forgotten about it, a blurred memory came into your head. I don’t want you doing that anymore. He’d said that in confidence, stood there in front of you, all long legs and pouty lips forming the words. “He… he said he didn’t want me kissing Chan anymore.”

Sieun spluttered. “He- he what?! Why would he say that?”

You shrugged. “D’no. Weird though. It… it made me feel weird. Like, almost shy. I don’t know.”

“That’s because you have a big old crush on my brother. We’ll address that later, though, because it seems my brother may have a big old crush on you,” You lifted your head, blinking at her. The drink had gone to her head last night. She was now clinically insane, beyond deranged by the sounds of it. Her eyes were peering out of the window opposite her bed in deep contemplation. “I mean, it makes sense. You two do bicker like an old married couple, but maybe that’s your shtick.” 

“I do not have a big old crush on your brother. He does not have a big old crush on me. We are mortal enemies.”

“Mmhm, okay, honey. We’ll see what happens tomorrow, yeah?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn’t sleep a wink the night before the camping trip. Of course you didn’t. Your thoughts were riddled with stupid remarks and baseball uniforms and long legs looking amazing in said baseball uniforms. Eventually, you’d actually cried a bit, just wanting him to leave your mind. Then, you felt pathetic crying over a man. That disgusted you beyond belief.

It had you thinking that Sieun may have been onto something. Maybe you did have a stupid crush on her brother. Maybe it had never left, ever since you’d caught sight of his chubby cheeks and mop of dark hair when you were both little. You’d have to just overcome it. Arguing with him would probably help, and you did that everyday, so it’d be fine. Manageable, at least, so long as he kept his goddamn nose out of your business. You’d had stupid crushes on people before, and you knew this one could leave very easily and very quickly.

Unfortunately, due to the lack of sleep, you had been forced to smother your eye bags in concealer that was maybe a shade too light. Seungmin had commented on this when you and his sister loaded your stuff into his pristine car, grimacing at the sight of you.

“You look like a ghost, brat.” You had immediately tried to rub the concealer off with your fingers, and now it was just a smeared mess on your otherwise decent skin. Fuck that guy. Fuck Kim Seungmin. Fuck yourself, too, because why were you trying to adhere to what he said?

It had still been plaguing your mind when you laid next to the lake in the woods while everyone drank around you. You had taken your premixed cocktail in a can to the lake not too far from the lake, and were perched in your blue bikini trying to get somewhat of a tan. Your skin was only blazing with anger, not sun. All of a sudden, you heard some branches snapping, and opening your eyes served you with the face of your best friend.

“Truth or dare. C’mon, everyone’s playing.”

You were lugged back to the campsite, groaning with your can still in your hand. Chan perked up immediately at the sight of you, patting his lap in invitation. 

You went to walk over, smiling at his dimpled cheeks, but quickly turned to Seungmin. “Sorry, Channie, I should probably check if I’m allowed first.”

Everyone erupted in roars, even Chan, who dragged you by your waist onto his lap while still giggling. Seungmin practically glowered, eyes staring you down with the anger within him. 

“Let's start with you then, brat,” Seungmin said, motioning towards you with the hand wrapped around the neck of his beer. “Truth or dare?”

You pretended to think. You always chose the same thing. “Truth.”

“Boring!” Sieun screamed, her pink bikini strap slipping down her shoulder. Changbin used two fingers to push it back up into place. Always a gentleman. “Okay, what is the biggest lie you’ve ever told?”

Seungmin turned to Sieun, displeasure written all over his features. “It’s literally meant to be me asking the question.”

“I don’t care.” Sieun shrugged. She also knew what the biggest lie you’ve ever told is, judging by the smirk on her face when she turned back towards you.

You smacked your lips together. Okay. If he had a crush on you, it would be instantly severed in that moment, because you were about to wholeheartedly tell the truth. “Seungmin, I was the one who broke your PS4. I spilled coffee over it.”

“What?! You fucking brat!” Everyone screamed again, Chan howling with laughter at Seungmin’s exasperation. “Tell me that you aren’t serious. You told me that-“

“I told you that the dog peed on it?” You giggled. Seungmin nodded, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, no. It stank of coffee, so you’re kinda dumb for believing me in the first place.”

Seungmin huffed. His cheeks were red, breathing heavy. Oh, he was so mad. Good. You lived your life specifically to piss Kim Seungmin off.

“Okay, Seungmin. Truth or dare?” Changbin spoke up. He didn’t need to speak up, because his voice was like a foghorn already. Seungmin sighed again, turning to the shorter male. 

“Dare.”

“I dare you to kiss Dahyun.” You turned to the girl in question. She was quite quiet, only speaking when spoken to, but you and Sieun had been friendly enough with her back in high school. She’d been close with Chan, though, and had kind of stuck with the group since. You thought she didn’t even like Seungmin either, but the way she perked up at the statement said otherwise. 

Seungmin, however, was still looking very pissed off. He put his beer bottle on the floor, sighing as he made his way over to Dahyun. You heard Jisung giggling, making lewd comments and noises in Minho’s ear, who just pushed him off with a sigh of fondness. All of a sudden, Seungmin’s lips were pressed to hers. You could see everything. Tongue and spit swapped between the two, and you found yourself turning to look at your drink instead. Awkward.

It made you feel awkward. More than that, though, it kind of made you feel weird. You weren’t sure of the emotion exactly, but you knew you wanted to leave instantly and never see Seungmin or Dahyun ever again. You also wanted to scream. Especially when you finally let yourself look up, when the cheers receded to murmurs and Seungmin had pulled away from Dahyun, looking straight at you. 

You locked eyes with him, blinking. Then, you saw fucking red.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You blurted, seeing Seungmin’s eyes widen at your outburst. Dahyun’s eyebrows raised, looking at you with fear. You turned to her with a timid smile. “Not you. Him. The bastard you kissed seems to think he can tell me what I can do, who I can kiss, yet he seems to be doing whatever he wants? Is this a joke, Kim Seungmin?”

Sieun laughed awkwardly from her position next to Changbin, rising up onto her feet. “Okay, perhaps this doesn’t need to happen right now-“

“No, let the brat speak to me how she wants. It’s not going to fucking end well, and she knows it,” Seungmin spoke, throwing his beer bottle down on the floor exasperatedly. He stood up, light blue baggy jeans looking slightly brown with the mud and an oversized jersey falling off of broad shoulders. You took in his appearance with nothing but an angered expression, cheeks burning with rage when you realised he still looked really fucking good with his hair dyed like that. Something about him shouting at you was turning you on, too, but you decided to address that at a later date. “I told you not to kiss Chan for a good reason.”

You scoffed. You could practically hear Chan’s hair turning to grey from stress behind you. “Oh, yeah? What reason is that? He’s my friend.”

“You should- you should only kiss people you like. People you’re interested in,” Seungmin was shouting now, finger pointing at you determinedly. You rolled your eyes, making him stomp his foot in the mud. 

“I guess that means that you like Dahyun then, huh?” You said, remembering to give Dahyun another smile. This really wasn’t against her. She was sweet, and she hadn’t done anything wrong. Kim Seungmin just grinds your fucking gears. 

You realised way too late that maybe you didn’t want to know the answer to the question that you’d so loudly shouted. 

Seungmin ran his hand through his hair, licking his lips. You tried to avoid staring at his mouth when he eventually retorted. “Maybe I do, brat. What’s it to you?” 

You blanched. It was nothing. It was nothing to you, really, but you definitely couldn’t back down now, even if you could sense the rest of your friendship group feeling slightly awkward in the wake of tension. You folded your arms over your chest, staring Seungmin down while you searched your brain earnestly for something that would hurt. 

“It’s nothing to me. I don’t give a fuck about you, Seungmin.”

Seungmin looked like he’d stopped breathing, staring at you with intensity in his eyes. You couldn’t quite work out what emotion they held, but you had a feeling that you may have gone a bit further than your normal bickering. It was only a matter of time, really, with you having a very short temper and all. 

As if it had never even happened, Seungmin rolled his neck and shrugged. He sat back down on the floor with a flurry of movement and with another shift, his arm was around Dahyun and he was pulling her close. She looked like she wanted to run very far away, but then Seungmin was handing her another beer and it was apparently fine. 

Changbin cleared his throat. “Okay, shall we continue?”

The rest of the night went with seemingly no hitches. Everyone drank, sang, danced, and the tents were slowly filling up with people retiring from the night, their skin still dewy with the water from the lake close by. You even managed to avoid getting riled up by the bastard sitting opposite you, so that was an achievement in itself. Eventually, you retired to the tent you, Sieun and Chan had been designated, limbs stiff from sitting down for so long.

Wiggling into your sleeping bag, you zipped up the fabric with your whole body inside like a cocoon. You could hear mumbling and giggles from the next tent over, but choosing to ignore it, you shifted over to face Chan. He was still awake, scrolling through his phone. You weren’t sure the guy ever fucking slept, in all honesty. Sieun snored behind you steadily, the sound of cicadas breaking up the noise of her heavy slumber. 

Chan blinked up at you, locking his phone when he saw you were still awake. The moonlight just about seeped through the walls of your temporary home for the night and you could see his features, sharp as always. He grinned at you, pulling you closer by your sleeping bag. “So.” 

“So,” you agreed, nuzzling into his bare shoulder. The summer heat was still present in the night, although mild, and he’d clearly chosen to not overheat with his chest bare. “This whole night was really weird, Channie. My life is really weird right now.”

“Tell me about it,” Chan hummed, fingers scratching on your scalp soothingly. “How long?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Chan simply looked at you earnestly, his lips in a tight smile. “How long… what?”

“How long since you’ve liked him?” Chan whispered, clearly registering the noise from the next tent over. You blanched, before realising that well - you could lie to Kim Sieun, Kim Seungmin and yourself, but you couldn’t lie to Bang Chan. He was too kind, too dear to you in a different sense to what Sieun was. 

“I dunno what it is, but I’m ignoring it,” you responded, even quieter than his whisper. “It’s weird. Makes me feel weird.”

Chan let out a silent laugh, chest shaking next to you. “Crushes tend to do that, babe. They make you feel all weird and fuzzy.”

“Kim Seungmin does not make me feel weird and fuzzy, Channie. I can’t stand him.”

“You can’t stand him because he makes you feel weird and fuzzy, and maybe it’s about time you realised that.”

You huffed, turning over to press your back against his chest, despite being separated by sleeping bags and extra fabric. Chan shuffled closer, pulling you in for a cuddle nonetheless. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, murmuring, “you can’t avoid him. I know you want to, but you can’t. He’s your best friend’s brother.”

Unfortunately, this was something you had already recognised. Staring at Sieun’s sleeping figure reminded you that yeah, he was your best friend’s brother, and while a relationship between you and him would never fuck anything up… well, an unrequited crush might. It would be too awkward. That’s why you swore you were going to ignore him. 

You had to go back to hating Kim Seungmin.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Fortunately, it was a lot easier than you’d anticipated. You’d managed to avoid him in his own home. You didn’t even see him in the hallways, sticking to showers late at night while he was always showering in the early morning, and you and Sieun had been eating out nearly every day to avoid family dinners. It almost felt rude, but with Seungmin, being rude was not possible. He was the epitome of rude.

Rude, brazen, and with zero morals. You’d almost forgotten that in the haze of him being nice once and looking pretty all the time. Sure, he was aesthetically pleasing, and maybe he was exactly your type. But you were never going to forget the history between you ever again, not if you put your mind to it. 

However, the concept of your own morals slipping to actually possibly like Seungmin had ruined your days since. You just couldn’t believe yourself! That’s Seungmin you were very nearly lusting over. Your mortal enemy, the bane of your existence. Who cared if he’d gotten hot?

Apparently, you did. As you stood in a party with Sieun dancing around carelessly, you were clutching your drink tight and thinking of your enemy. The drink limited your inhibitions, making you able to think more freely. Why did he look at you like that after kissing Dahyun? Why did he stop you kissing Chan? Why did- 

“Why are you still overthinking? We’re at a party!” Sieun hollered, the drink in her cup threatening to slosh over the edges with her dancing. You shook your head, putting on your best fake smile.

“I am having the bestest time,” You insisted, smiling and starting to do a little jig to the music. The house party, held at Changbin’s literal mansion, was slowly filling up. You and Sieun had retired to the kitchen to down a few drinks so that you felt less awkward and could start going feral with the rest of the party, but the more drinks you had, the more you got inside of your own head. This wasn’t like you. You were the party girl, the girl who everyone had awaited return to the town - you wanted to scream and stomp your feet like a child. 

“You’re totally not, honey,” Sieun mumbled, seeing the look in your eyes. You sighed, downing back the concoction in your cup. You’d worn another slutty dress to the party, done your makeup and hair and now it was all going to waste. “Are you sure you don’t wanna head back?”

You shrugged. “I mean, if you want to, we can.”

Sieun’s eyes widened. “Well, I was just- I was gonna call you an Uber, and get you home. I’m gonna stay, y’know, it’s Changbin’s house, and… yeah.”

And she wanted to make out with Changbin. She was so valid for that. You sighed again, looking around at the kitchen. The party was a bit too much for you right now in your utterly discombobulated headspace. Maybe you should go back, just chill for the night, sleep. It was probably for the best, or you’d ruin Sieun’s night too by being so awkward. 

“Ah. Yeah, okay, maybe it’s best if I go home,” You looked at Sieun, who was beginning to eye up Changbin. He was in a pretty intense game of beer pong with Jisung, and both parties were screaming their heads off. You didn’t want to stand between Sieun and her destiny, her fate. Sieun turned back to you, a glint in her eye. “Alright, would you call me an Uber? But um, maybe I should go to my house. Y’know, since-“

“He’s at practice,” She said, shaking her head. “Not home. Don’t worry, he won’t be home for a little while.”

You frowned, checking the time. It was 9pm. Did practice go on this late? You let yourself accept her statement anyway. You still had no clue what happened in baseball, or what happened in baseball practice nonetheless. It could go on until 3am for all you knew. Sieun pressed a few buttons on her cracked phone before she was grinning, sending you a thumbs up.

“All done. He- the driver, he’ll be here in five. Good?” You nodded, giving her a quick hug. “You need me to wait outside with you?”

“No, no,” You shook your head. You couldn’t ruin her night even more through your petty questioning of why, why, why. After giving Sieun a quick kiss on the cheek, you made sure she went straight over to Changbin and was safe before you left the house. It took you a solid five minutes to even try to wade through the bodies and you were thankful you were leaving -  you really didn’t have the headspace for that.

Standing outside, you rubbed your hands over your arms to try and gain some warmth. You’d never been great with cold, and although the summer nights weren’t as biting on your skin, it was still unpleasant when you didn’t have the body of a friend next to you. It was also your fault for wearing a strapless minidress that was about two seconds from falling down or riding up, or both. 

The car really only took five minutes. You were thankful for this, as Ubers were inherently unreliable and it was getting colder, and way too loud in the house behind you. Scurrying down the front steps, you didn’t look at the car until you were about a foot in front of it, looking up at the vehicle. 

The car was very familiar. You weren’t sure if the few drinks you’d consumed had made your eyesight go funny, but… no, that definitely was Sieun’s car. You could see inside the car, a lot cleaner than when she picked you up from the airport but still looking half broken. And… Oh God. She’d really done you dirty this time.

Seungmin was sitting in the driver’s seat, and he rolled the window down upon your arrival. “Are you getting in?” 

“No.” You blurted, arms crossed over your chest. “Why are you driving Sieun’s car?”

“Mine’s in for a service,” He responded, eyes racking over your figure. “You look freezing, brat. Get in.”

“No.”

“I’m not going to have to get out and grab you, am I?” He said, eyes narrowing at you. You blanched. He was kinda scary tonight. With a sigh, you made haste to the other side of the car, and heard him mumble “thought not”.

You buckled up your seatbelt when in the passenger seat, and tried to reach over to fiddle with the aircon. The car was cold, too, and you found yourself even more on edge now that you were sitting with Seungmin in a confined area. 

Fiddling with the aircon, you felt Seungmin bat your hand away. “It’s broken.” You turned to look at him, completely silent, and then you saw it. He was in his baseball uniform. Tight pinstripe trousers on those long legs and a loose jersey on his upper body, hair almost flattened from his hat. It still looked good, blonde streaks breaking up the dark mop of hair on his unfairly pretty face. 

“Hello?” He waved a hand over your face. “Are you deaf now, brat? It’s broken.”

“Yeah, sorry,” You mumbled, turning to face out the window. You sensed Seungmin tensing, before he sighed and started the engine to the car. The car started to speed away from Changbin’s house before you even recognised it, too holed up in your head. 

Seungmin sighed again when you were still silent, no noise circulating the small space of the car. “What’s wrong with you lately?”

You turned to him, blinking. “Huh?”

“I’m asking what’s wrong with you lately. I’ve barely seen you. You haven’t been bickering at me, haven’t tried to physically fight me lately. What’s going on?”

You screwed your face up in confusion. “You don’t even care, Seungmin, so why are you asking?”

“Of course I care,” Seungmin’s eyebrows furrowed. He was staring at the road, not looking at you even as your eyes raked over his body unashamedly. “I don’t completely hate you, brat. You just piss me off a lot of the time. So, what’s wrong?”

Gazing at the bulge in his trousers, you realised you needed to stop being so thirsty and reply. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Why did you say that? Why was that the thing that came out of your mouth?

“Funny, because you seem to always want to talk,” Seungmin snickered, one hand tight on the steering wheel. His other arm rested on the armrest, looking the epitome of comfort and relaxation while you felt like you were dying. His remark made you burn with anger. How dare he? You don’t even talk that much, really. “I mean, can’t really get you to stop talking, so-”

“Shut up!” You shrieked. “You wanna know what’s wrong? You. You’ve been pissing me off so much lately, Seungmin. First, it’s the baseball uniform. Like, do the trousers have to be that tight?! Then, you stop me kissing Chan, and make me like, reconsider our whole dynamic for a hot second. Oh, and then, you kiss Dahyun, and that just- that just made me feel all weird. I didn’t like it, I felt weird.”

It was silent for a beat. Another beat passed, and Seungmin was brushing his tongue over his teeth in silent thought. Then, he was pulling into a layby on the side of the quiet road you were driving down, and he unbuckled his seatbelt. The engine switched off and Seungmin turned to you, eyes gazing directly into yours.

“Feel weird how?” He questioned. You scoffed.

“What do you mean?”

“How did it feel weird, brat? You felt confused, maybe a bit sick, awkward even? Upset?” All the emotions Seungmin was quick firing at you had you nodding. You had felt all of those things. Then, all of a sudden, Seungmin was lunging towards you and pressing his plump lips against yours. You gasped, hands going to his broad shoulders. When you felt the material of his baseball jersey, you realised you kind of didn’t want to pull away, and you brushed your lips against his in a response to his movement.

When a second passed, Seungmin’s tongue was pressing into your mouth with fervour, one large hand going to the back of your head to keep you in place. You whimpered into the kiss, your tongue dancing against his and your fingernails digging into his shoulders. When Seungmin eventually pulled away, you chased his lips subconsciously, pouting when he just stared at you. 

“How did that feel?”

“Seungmin-”

“How did that feel, brat? Fucking answer me,” His thumb swiped across your bottom lip, slick with spit from his filthy kiss. You moved to encase his thumb in your mouth, keeping eye contact as your tongue swirled around it. 

Letting his tongue drop out of your mouth, you undid your seatbelt, moving closer to the figure next to you. “Felt good.”

Seungmin hummed, hands moving to grab your hips. He effortlessly lifted you onto his lap, your core settled right on top of the bulge in his fucking baseball trousers. You squirmed, hands moving to brush his hair out of his face. It was a strangely intimate moment, your fingers in his hair. “It feels good because we like each other.”

“Mm, no. Not possible,” You insist. Seungmin’s lips turned up into a smile, his eyebrow raised. “We bicker all the time, and-”

“And you got just so pissed at me kissing Dahyun, just like I lost it over you kissing Chan. I saw you staring at my ass in my game, and in all honesty, I’m staring at your thighs in that dress right now.” 

You look down at your thighs. They were spread immodestly, plush flesh slung over Seungmin’s thinner legs. Your dress had ridden up with your movement, and your core was barely covered by a strip of black lace that you referred to as underwear. It could barely be considered as underwear. Turning your attention back to Seungmin, you saw him still staring at your thighs, a hungry look in his eyes. 

“But- we argue all the time. You boil my blood, to be honest,” You admit, feeling a bit sheepish sitting on top of him like that. Seungmin let out a small laugh, hands moving to brush up and down your thighs. The feeling of his warm hands on your bare skin made you sigh, inching closer for more touch. 

“You piss me off too. You piss me off so much, I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name and crying. Is that fucked up?” Seungmin spoke, licking his lips. His attention went up to your own lips, to which you were nervously biting your bottom one. “I liked you when you were shy and quiet and you barely spoke. When you became stubborn, and outspoken, I liked you even more. It made me want to fuck you into submission, brat.”

You could literally feel yourself getting wet. Fuck you into submission? Now that sounded fucking amazing. You weren’t surprised he had the exact same sexual interests as you. You were a brat through and through. It’s where the nickname came from, after all. 

“Fuck me then,” You kissed his lips chastely, feeling him groan deeply into your mouth. He entertained you for a few seconds, a filthy swap of spit and tongue before he was pulling away. Your chest heaved, fingers digging into his shoulders once again. “Fuck me. Please, I’ll beg! I don’t care, just-“

“Shut the fuck up, brat,” Seungmin admonished. Your mouth instantly clenched shut in reaction, toes curling in your shoes. He threw his head back, eyes shut as if he was trying to control himself. He was just as affected as you. After a moment passed, he looked back at you, eyes still just as dark. “I’m not fucking you in Sieun’s car. I’ll take you home and fuck you nice and full in my bed. Does that sound good?”

You found yourself nodding, and Seungmin let you reposition yourself back in the passenger seat. You had never felt more excited in your life. Except, when he tried to start the ignition with the key, the car spluttered a few times and then stopped altogether. You blinked at the car. Seungmin took in a sharp inhale of air. He tried to turn the key again, and the car rocked as if in protest, but didn’t start. It was dead.

“Okay, fuck me in the car then?” You questioned, turning to face Seungmin again. You saw him almost laugh, lips curling, before he was shaking his head at you. 

“I like you too much to treat you like that.”

“Seungmin, you treat me badly everyday. It’s our whole thing.”

“Well, yeah, but you’re my girl now. It’s different. We’re still going to bicker like mad, but I’m not having our first time be in a fucking car. Especially not one owned by my sister,” Seungmin sighed, long fingers reaching into his pocket. He clicked a few buttons before he landed on Chan’s contact. It didn’t even ring once before Chan picked up. “Hey, old man. So, we’re stuck in Sieun’s car, it’s finally died. No, I’m not with Sieun. Yes, I’m with her. Chan, can you stop asking questions and just come and save us?”

Your chest was still heaving when you heard rushed murmurs. His girl? He’d called you his girl, and surprisingly… you weren’t all that mad about it. He was sexy, and he was rude. But wasn’t that your type anyway? Taller than you, stoic, bitchy and could actually fuck you good. The last statement was something you had no doubt about, the way he’d effortlessly moved you onto his lap like that… you were squirming in your seat just thinking about it, clenching your thighs together. You didn’t even hear the click of the phone when Seungmin hung up, still focused on trying to get some friction on your core.

“Stop being a brat,” Seungmin demanded. You pouted, turning to him, to which he met your gaze with a steely glare. “I’m sure you can wait until we get home. Chan’s on his way.” How fucked up is it that even though he’s still being mean, he’s just making you like him more?

It wasn’t long before Chan’s sleek black car pulled up in front of Sieun’s. Luckily, you’d parked on a housing street where not many cars passed, so it’d be alright for Sieun’s car to stay there until the morning. Seungmin was instantly unbuckled and out of the car, baseball uniform tight on his legs as he walked over to your side. When you got out of the car, you expected him to walk away from the car straight away, but he had his arm around your waist tightly as if he was escorting you to the other vehicle. You even saw Chan’s confused expression in the driver’s seat. 

Chan only looked more confused when Seungmin followed you into the backseat and sat next to you, leaving no space. “Uhm, so. Back to yours then, Seungmin? We can sort the car tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin agreed, quiet as his warm hand went to rest on your thigh. Subconsciously, your legs spread to allow him access, and you heard him sigh next to you. Chan started the engine, speeding off down the road. He seemed on edge, turning the radio up loud. 

You stared at the rearview mirror, seeing Chan focusing on the expanse of road in front of him. With one of your boldest ever moves, you grabbed Seungmin’s hand, placing it on the front of your panties where you were soaking through the lace. Seungmin leaned in close, lips brushing against your ear. 

“You want me to finger you while he drives us home? That’s dirty, pup,” Seungmin murmurs. You let out a shaky breath, head rolling onto his shoulder. “Maybe I shouldn’t. You’re too desperate, I don’t think you’ve worked for it yet. Let’s make out a little, how’s that?”

You nod eagerly, fingers moving to grasp on his biceps. “Yeah- I need something, Seungmin. I think I’m going to die, you’re so hot in that fucking uniform, I-“

“You’re filth,” Seungmin groaned. “Fucking- c’mere.” His hand went to the back of your head, yanking your hair back before his lips were pressed against yours.

His tongue pressed his spit into your mouth in the most sexual kiss you’d ever had, and you let out a soft sigh at the feeling. His lips were so soft, so plump against yours and it weirdly just felt right - you liked him a little more when he was kissing you until you were breathless over when he would make fun of you. 

“Okay!” You’d forgotten Chan was even there until his hands clapped together. You both turned to look at him, your lips kiss-bitten and swollen. You were outside Seungmin’s house. When did you even get there? You blinked, staring at Chan. He gave you a wide smile. “I’m so glad you guys have worked things out, but I really don’t want my car soiled. Please go home.”

“Thanks for the lift, old man.” Seungmin was dragging you out of the car by your wrist, all the way up the driveway and into the house. Before you knew it, he was taking you up the stairs, too, and you were standing in front of his door.

Seungmin’s bedroom door. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d even been inside. It used to be littered with figurines and music paraphernalia, and you had no idea what it would look like now. When Seungmin pushed open the door, it looked a lot cleaner and less immature, pristine grey sheets tucked into the corners like a hotel room and only a few baseball items littered around. 

He turned to you, pressing a peck to your lips. “Are you sure you want to fuck me? I have to warn you beforehand, I can get a little…”

“Mean?” You giggle. Seungmin nods, a smile on his lips. “I like mean. I thought I made that obvious.” 

“And I like bratty girls who need to be hurt until they cry. Are you a little painslut, brat?” You nod at his words. You couldn’t think of anything better, molten hot need rushing through you at the mere idea. “Good. Get naked for me and lay on my bed.”

Scurrying over to his bed, you just couldn’t believe you were actually about to do this. You were about to fuck the guy who you absolutely hated a month ago. You would’ve never dreamed of this - but now, it had you thinking. All of the bickering, all of the pissing each other off - had you just been trying to wind each other up for a specific response? Had you been doing it to get his attention? The thought hurt your brain, but you knew one thing. You wanted to fuck Kim Seungmin so fucking bad, and fuck whatever happened afterwards.

The fabric of your dress dropped to the floor once you’d unzipped it, the fabric pooling at your feet. You kicked it away, leaving yourself braless with just underwear on. Seungmin’s eyes trailed down your body, humming when you settled back against his sheets. 

That’s all he did for a while. He just looked at you, taking your full appearance in with wandering, claiming eyes. You found yourself meeting his gaze when he looked at your face. His trousers were even tighter than before, a long, hard erection pressing against the fabric. Letting your palms wander up your tummy, a delicate, grazing touch that made you squirm, you landed on your chest and tugged on your nipples.

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Seungie?” The nickname dropped from your mouth before you could even process it. Seungmin scoffed, before he was pulling his jersey off with haste. It left him bare, exposing soft, milky planes of skin to your eyes. His body was lean yet toned, looking like the muscles would ripple under your fingers but feel so velvety at the same time. It was the perfect representation of his personality. 

He was on the bed quicker than you’d expected, lunging towards you like a primal animal stalking its prey. You gazed up at him when his movement landed him above you, your legs spread around his hips. All that was heard throughout the room were deep breaths when his bulge situated against you through your underwear, the puffs of air spanning across your skin where he leaned above you. 

“Should I fuck you?” He mumbled. You nodded slowly, letting your hips roll up against his. Seungmin licked his lips in response, hands going to pin your hips down. “Tell me what you like.”

You whimpered when his lips went to your neck, sucking on a spot underneath your jaw that felt so, so sensitive. “I like... Rough. Pain. I like it rough, I like being treated like I’m beneath you, but then- God, Seungie- you need to- I need to cum, when we fuck. Please?”

“Men don’t make you cum often, brat?” You shook your head, whining again when he sucked a hickey into your collarbone sharply. “That’s a pity. I bet you look so fucking beautiful when you cum, so desperate. I think I’ll let you cum.”

“Thank you,” You moaned lowly when he trailed his lips further down your body. His lips encaptured one of your nipples, a hard peak so sensitive to his loving tongue. The moonlight shone through his curtains, highlighting the new hairstyle he had and his button nose when he sucked on your breast. As if he’d been building up to it, Seungmin let his teeth bite into your nipple sharply, and you positively squeaked at the sensation. 

Letting your nipple pop out of his mouth, Seungmin grinned up at you. “Good?”

“More, more. Please, hurt me, please-”

“Hurt you?” He shifted again, looming over you in that dangerous, almost territorial way. “What if I slapped you? On your face. Would you like me to make that pretty face red?”

You gasped, eyes rolling back at the mere idea. He ground his bulge into you, waiting for your answer. “I- I love that, please, Seungmin, slap me. Oh my God, please, I think I’m gonna die-” 

You were cut off with a harsh smack to your cheek. Your head rolled, gasping in the aftermath of the pain. It should’ve put you off, it should’ve hurt too much, it should’ve made you question if he really liked you - but all you could think was again, please. That’s all you could say, too, begging him to slap you again. 

“Fucking filthy brat,” He grumbled, hand swinging again to slap you across the face. When your head tried to roll to the side again, he gripped your cheeks with his thumb and finger. You whined incoherently when he looked down at you, squishing your cheeks, until he was letting spit dribble into your mouth. “Mine.”

“Yours,” You nod, agreeing, and Seungmin groans at the sound of you saying it. You heard the rustling of fabrics, the moving of bedsheets and then his cockhead was positioned at your sopping wet hole, panties pulled to the side. You tried to buck your hips into it, trying to catch his cockhead and lure him inside, but his grip pushed you back down. 

“Tell me again. You’re mine, yeah? No more kissing Chan,” Seungmin rubbed the leaking tip against your hole, making you attempt not to squirm again. “No more arguing with anyone that isn’t me, brat. I’m your punching bag, yeah? You take all your anger out on me and I’ll fuck you nice and hard afterwards, hurt you the way you like. That’s what you’ve always done it for, right?”

Your brain was fuzzy. Yes, that’s what you’d always done it for. You had always done it to get a rise out of him, and now that you were being put in your place, it made you feel like you were running a hundred miles an hour through a sandstorm. 

“Yes, ‘m yours, Seungie, please, can I have it? Need it,” You whine, head thrown back against his soft pillows. Seungmin coos at you condescendingly. 

“Do you? But what about prep, brat? It’ll hurt otherwise, won’t it?” Despite his words, he’s pressing the head of his cock inside of you. The stretch was blinding, making your toes curl and hands dig into the pillows. 

“I- I want it to hurt.”

“Of course you do,” Seungmin sneers, before he’s pushing his whole cock inside you at once. It’s long, pressing against your cervix as he bottoms out and your eyebrows furrow, jaw dropping in a silent moan. “That pussy’s so wet, fuck. I turn you on that much?”

“It turns me on to argue with you, turns me on when you’re mean- fucking, Seungmin, please, move,” You were admitting something you hadn’t quite admitted to yourself just yet, but when Seungmin started to snap his hips against yours, your brain went clear of all thoughts. “Ah, oh my fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck- hnng-”

“‘S good? You’re taking me so well, pretty little brat, you want a reward?” You nodded at his words, but you weren’t braced for his hand smacking your cheek once again. You reeled, eyes feeling blurry as his hips picked up the pace. He was breathing heavily on your cheek, warm breath fanning over even warmer skin. “Was that good? You want more?”

“Please, Seungie, please, more, slap me again, harder,” He slapped your opposite cheek this time, a welcome relief from your reddened cheek. The problem was that when his hand collided with your skin, you felt yourself seize up and - oh. You were cumming. “Ah-”

“Fuck, are you cumming that quick? You’re so fucking filthy, pup,” Seungmin groaned, his cock still bullying into your hole. With his pace not slowing, you couldn’t ride out the orgasm properly, and it was just one constant blissful experience. Your eyes rolled back into your head, toes curling with pleasure. “Cumming from me slapping your pretty little face. Dirty fucking bitch.”

“Seungie- I can’t, I can’t take it, please slow down!” You were squealing at that point, fingers digging into the pillows. 

“I don’t think you want me to, do you?”

He was so right. You shook your head, whining out again when he pulled out. Your hole fluttered around nothing, clit still swollen with arousal. Your slick had dripped all the way down to his pristine sheets, tarnishing his once neat room. Seungmin was quick to spin you around, putting you on your tummy with your ass just slightly raised for him. 

Within a brief moment, he was pushing inside of you again. His cock was still wet with your arousal, and your back arched when he bottomed out inside of you for the second time. Seungmin gripped your hair, making your back permanently arched for him. His lips attached to your neck, blonde highlighted hair draping onto your skin. 

“‘S good, so good,” You babbled, trying to push your ass back onto him. Seungmin allowed it this time, his hand moving from your hair to your neck. He squeezed the sides expertly and you whimpered, hands moving to grab his wrist. 

“You like that, don’t you? I’m meant to be your enemy, you dirty bitch, and look at you,” He was chuckling mirthlessly, grinning when you kept babbling. “I guess you like my cock too much. Dumb fucking slut, all I have to do is fill you up and you’re nice and sweet for me.”

“B-Bet you wish you’d done it sooner,” You quip, which would’ve been much more impressive if you hadn’t stuttered it out. “Would’ve shut up for you and been a good girl a long time ago.”

Seungmin hummed. “I think I like you bitchy, brat.”

“I jus’ like you,” You slurred, feeling Seungmin’s pace slow. He’d resorted to a slow, deep grind that had you feeling every inch and every vein on his cock. You could hear him snickering in your ear, and he pressed a cute little kiss to your neck. His free hand went down to your clit, rubbing precise, firm circles against the swollen button.

“Think you can ride me, or are you too cock drunk?” Seungmin hummed. You shook your head rapidly.

“I- too much, can’t-”

“Alright, brat, let me fuck you some more then. I need to cum in this pussy, yeah?” Seungmin was laughing again, and all of a sudden, he’d let go of your neck. You were immediately face planted into the pillows and Seungmin gripped onto your ass, thrusting into you quicker this time. You whined, trying to push back onto him, but he smacked your asscheek in admonishment. Letting your hips shift slightly to allow your hand to meet your clit, you picked up where Seungmin left off with the tight circles. It made the pool of arousal in your tummy clench, and you vaguely realised you were going to cum again. 

“Seungie, please- I want cum, want cum, with me, please-”

“Want me to cum inside you, brat? While you cum around my cock? That’s dirty, pup,” His voice faltered when his hands gripped onto your asscheeks harder, spreading them to see where his cock was entering you over and over. You knew you were soaking, you could feel it - and the wet glide of his length inside of you felt fucking delectable. You recognised no one had fucked you like this before, letting you cum over and over on their cock like this while they held back their own orgasm, and it made your head dizzy. You’d have to come back to Seungmin for more, you thought, and you didn’t hate the thought at all. 

The bed rocking suddenly caught your attention, and you whimpered, trying to alert Seungmin of the noise. The last thing you needed was his parents hearing you get your back blown out by their son, who you claimed to hate. You reached back, trying to grab his arm, but he was groaning loudly, cockhead hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Seungie, ‘s too loud, the bed,” You managed to get out, drooling on his pillows. Seungmin let out a loud groan before he was pulling you back onto him, forcing you to fuck back onto his cock.

“And? I don’t care. Pussy’s so fucking good, gonna make me blow, shit,” Seungmin mumbled. “You ready for my cum, brat?”

“Yeah, want it, please, please Seungie, fill me up, breed me!”

“Breed you? You want me to breed this pussy, dirty pup?” He bit your neck sharply, making you keen. You nodded erratically at his words. You couldn’t think of anything better than him filling you up with his cum. “Cum with me. Flood my cock.”

His hand came down on your ass again, and as you felt his hips stall, an unfamiliar warmth filling up your pussy, you let go around him. Your pussy fluttered with delight - probably also confusion, because oh my God, you were cumming twice? With someone else?

It felt messy, juices gliding everywhere as he just rocked his hips a little to ride out your orgasms, and then you were left to fall flat on the bed. He pulled his softening cock out, sighing when your pussy oozed out his cum onto his sheets. He didn’t seem to care about his bed, much more entranced with the sight of your hole gaping after him. 

He’d fucked you so good your pussy was going to remember the shape of his cock forever. That was for sure.

You let yourself drift, brain going blurry until you felt a cloth wiping between your legs. It was cold, slightly wet as it rubbed over your swollen folds, and you whimpered, trying to shift away from the touch.

“Stay still, brat. ‘M just cleaning you up.” You nodded, face still buried in the sheets. It was then that Seungmin finally pulled your panties down, chucking them to the floor and pulling a pair of basketball shorts up your trembling legs. Were they… his? He’d put you in his clothes? Bizarre. You didn’t even react when he spun you over, pulling a baggy t-shirt over your upper body. He’d gotten fully dressed in a plaid pyjama set, baffling you. When had he done that?

You were moved again, positioned on a very firm chest and a bottle of water pressed to your raw lips. You glugged it down thankfully, blinking up at Seungmin. His hair was mussed, but pushed back with a cute Pochacco headband. Wow. He was actually cute. 

There was a beat of silence, then Seungmin spoke. His hand was tracing your scalp, running his fingernails over it. “I meant what I said. You’re my girl. I think you always have been.”

You scoffed. “Yours?! I’m not a possession, Seungmin-”

Seungmin kissed you softly, giggling when you still tried to yell. Had he always reacted this amused when you bitched at him? You realised that… yeah, he had. It really did entertain him. “You’re so cute when you have a go at me like that, you know? Such a brat.”

You twiddled your thumbs together when he pulled away from the kiss, staring at the bottoms of his plaid pyjamas shyly. “So… you wanna be like, together? Since you’re hot, and all.”

Seungmin chuckled again, pulling you closer to his chest. “As long as you never ever stop bitching at me.”

“I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

“I like you that way, brat.”

END. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

EPILOGUE

Sieun stared at you upon your arrival to breakfast. Her parents were preoccupied in the living room, and her eyes settled directly on your neck. You knew that your neck was littered with bite marks, hickies galore, but you’d tried your best to hide it.

“Listen, I’m so happy for you,” She began, hand clasped tightly around her mug. “I know I always ask you for details of sexual escapades, but I kind of don’t need to know about how good my brother is in bed.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” You nod, agreeing. “But he does know where the-“

“Stop!”

A mug of coffee is placed in your hands, made just the way you like it. The steaming liquid is a welcome warmth, as is the kiss that Seungmin presses to your cheek. You blush, staring up at him when he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Good morning, brat.”

[vngelicc]

teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

+

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

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