#they were best friends/lovers for years but eventually they had to split

[canisalbus]

I love them, sweet dogs, and it makes me feel so happy whenever i see them, I would love to see an AU where they ran away together or one where they met when they were younger.

Thank you! ;_;

#they actually met when they were younger that's canon #they studied at the same university in Venice during their late teens/early adulthood #they were best friends/lovers for years but eventually they had to split #Machete graduated and Vasco dropped out and they went their own ways #so when they reconnect again in their thirties they're technically exes #that's largely why they hit off so well immediately #answered #m0lem4n

[tonycries]

Unhoneymooners!? - G.S.

Synopsis. The universe was surely playing a joke on you. Here you were, trapped on a luxury getaway with your - dangerously handsome, extremely obnoxious - ex. Either you were going to kill each other or end up pinned beneath him, split apart on his cóck. You just didn’t know what would come first.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, unprotected, argument as foreplay, slight enemies to lovers, more like annoyances actually, cunnilingus, oral (male + female), spitting, creampié, one bed trope, rough, Satoru is still EXTREMELY down bad for you, and unfairly hot, forced proximity, cúmplay, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 8.5k

A/N. It’s impossible to not write Satoru without bullying him at least a little bit.

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 2 weeks, and 16 hours ago - not that you were keeping count, of course.

So why was he outside of your resort room blasting “Kill Bill” by SZA like he’s auditioning for the world’s most dramatic comeback tour? On what should’ve marked your fourth anniversary, no less.

Well, given you were the one to lock him out, but still - the stubborn bastard could at least have some decorum. 

With an exasperated sigh, you throw yourself onto the king-sized bed of your honeymoon suite, trying to will away that annoying, grating voice - not SZA, no, more so Satoru singing along at the top of his lungs to the chorus. 

How did you even get here? And with Satoru of all people - your Satoru. Or at least he was this time a little over a year ago. 

You first met Satoru when you were in university, back when he wore those pretentious circled sunglasses and waltzed around those halls like he owned the place. And after a single literature assignment together, he wasn’t just your (self-proclaimed) best friend; he was the reluctantly favorite thorn in your side. 

Like the rest of him, Satoru’s introduction into your love-life was anything but subtle. It wasn’t like he strolled in, gave a polite nod, and blended into the background. Oh no, he bulldozed his way in and dragged you to dance with him on the tables of some dingy frat party in what you could only assume was some joke from the universe at your expense.

And damn him, you think bitterly, you couldn't resist him that night. Spinning you into a dramatic dip, silver chain brushing your face as his half-lidded eyes bored into yours. You couldn’t not kiss him after the way his hands were just searing into your skin. 

God, you’ve never been able to listen to “Gasolina” the same way ever since.  

Satoru was in love as he was in the rest of life - a force of nature, and it was too easy to find yourself caught up in him.

That night at the frat party was just the beginning. From then on was a rollercoaster of everything from heated debates over the best flavor of ramen to impromptu road trips where you’d end up under a carpet of stars. Wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing whispered secrets for an unpromised future - oftentimes where Satoru would crack a joke or two about running away to Tokyo with him. To which you’d laugh it off with a “Yeah yeah, I’d leave everything I’ve known behind in a heartbeat for your dumbass, Toru.”

You just didn’t think that it would be the downfall to your relationship. All the empty promises. 

Because as those heavenly days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, eventually two years had gone by. The whirlwind romance settled into a comfortable rhythm, but with it came the looming promise of graduation and Satoru moving to work under his family company in Tokyo.

Under pressure, it wasn’t long before the cracks began to show, the arguments more frequent, and the silences more deafening. And as your relationship slowly turned into nothing more than a husk of what it used to be - so did the both of you.

Long story short, graduation was a bittersweet goodbye - and you think both of you knew long before it was actually over. Neither of you attended the afterparty - with Satoru on a flight straight to Tokyo and you at home to stuff your face with chocolate. Hey, at least you could blame your tears on finally leaving university, right? 

You had meticulously erased his name from your phone, your social media, and even your dreams - well, almost, the bastard still came around to bother you occasionally. It was messy, painful, and final.

But “final” really didn’t explain your current predicament. Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Satoru is that he’s always there - whether you liked it or not. He was there when you needed a partner for that literature assignment, and he was there to turn your world upside down at that dingy frat party.

Hell, he was even there to help you stubbornly chug mountains of ice cream and win that raffle for this five day-long getaway trip to the Maldives. Though, you think he might’ve chugged the ice cream without the promise of a vacation anyway.

But, when ultimately those shiny tickets came in the mail - Satoru wasn’t there. Oh well, it might’ve been a couple’s trip - but you could have a hot girl summer, right? Maybe you could even snag a hottie by the end. You’d almost forgotten that he’d be getting his copy of the tickets as well.

Yet, unfortunately - as the beginning notes of P!nk’s “So What” bursts through the heavy wooden door - you were inevitably reminded of the fact that he was here. Right now. Goading you into coming outside.

You find yourself groaning inwardly (and outwardly) because of course, why wouldn’t he come back even more obnoxious than before? You haven’t seen him in ages, yet here he is, crashing back into your life with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Or - you furrow your brows at his purposefully off-key singing carrying over the sounds of the waves outside - with the subtlety of a manchild with a JBL and a premium account on Spotify.  

Rubbing your temples in frustration, you contemplate how much longer of this it would take before you’re both kicked out of this resort. And after you ate so many ice creams to win this getaway trip? No chance.

With a resigned sigh, you rise from the bed, smoothing out the bathing suit you’d just put on before the devil incarnate showed up knocking at your door. Something hot and prickly pools in your stomach as you approach it, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. So like Satoru.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you shakily reach for the handle. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal actually.

…

What’s the worst that can happen?

Slam! 

The door swings open, and there in all his smug glory stands a very shirtless Satoru. Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru, the same asshole you’ve blocked on even Gmail. 

Except, you’re momentarily struck by how high you have to raise your eyes to meet his. Are growth spurts even a thing anymore? You didn’t have a chance to take a good look last time before slamming the door shut at the first flash of white hair and a smug grin.

But right now, traitorously, your gaze catches on just how broad his shoulders look and…since when was he so chiseled? Damn you, Tokyo - you were doing him too good.

His hair is slightly longer too, curtaining those slightly more mature features, stopping just above that ever-immature grin. One which moves as he hums, “Well, happy fourth anniversary to me, If I knew this came with the suite then I’d have swam here myself.”

You scoff, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious as he wiggles his brows, striking blue eyes sweeping your figure from head to toe. “I’d prefer if you swam back. What are you doing?” 

“Why, just showing up to our room on our lil’ honeymoon, sweetheart.” Satoru sing-songs, leaning against the doorframe to fully prevent you from slamming the door in his (admittedly) pretty face again. “And before you try to break my nose with that door again, I won that ticket here fair and square, y’know. I ate just as much ice cream as you did for it.”

“You ate most of those before you knew about the getaway raffle.” you sigh over his nonchalant shrug, pinching your nose, “And stop calling it our honeymoon, I dumped you five months ago.”

“Well aren’t you just the gift that keeps on giving. Keeping count?”

“No. Don’t be a pest.”

“Always thought you had a thing for pests. After all, you did date me.” As Satoru grins impossibly wider, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He winks, “And if I’m a pest then you’re an itch that just won’t go away.”

“At least I’m not the itch that shows up uninvited to someone’s honeymoon suite.” you hiss. And with that you start shutting the door ever-so-slowly, delighting in the panic that overtakes Satoru’s features as he reaches out frantically.

“Hey!” he sputters, “I didn’t know you’d be here! And besides this ‘pest’ forgot his slippers all the way in Tokyo and can’t stand on flaming-hot boardwalks for too long so let me in.”

And sure enough, you glance down to see that Satoru isn’t wearing any slippers on the scorching boardwalk. The realization almost brings a smirk to your lips. This idiot. 

“Wow.”

“‘Wow’ at my feet or-”

“I should leave you here to rot just for your pure idiocy.” you deadpan, eyes locked on the way he’s burning his soles off yet still has the audacity to flash you a cocky smile.

“But you won’t.” he hums.

A beat passes. One. Two. And Satoru’s grin almost falters, before you finally relent - opening the door just a crack, cursing his entire bloodline under your breath. “You’re incorrigible” you mutter as he saunters inside victoriously, dragging his hefty luggage behind.

“Why change perfection, sweetheart~” he calls out, heading straight for the bedroom, only to let out a delighted “OooOOo” at the sight of the king-sized bed in the middle. The only bed. “How scandalous, maybe you’ll even fall in lov-” 

“Don’t. I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a seashell.” you warn, holding up both keycards threateningly, “I get the bed, you take the couch.”

“But-”

“And I’ve got the keys, so slippers or not you’ll be back out on that boardwalk.” 

A slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips at the way Satoru looked so dramatically crestfallen, you continue - just to be petty, “And no more ‘Kill Bill’ that’s on my angry ex playlist.”

With a heavy sigh he sulkily makes his way to the bathroom, calling out as he does, “Fine. But I’m showering first.”

As he disappears from sight you throw yourself onto your bed, basking in what little peace and quiet you’ll have because of your unwanted guest. This was going to be a-

“And I’m using all of your body lotions.”

“...”

“I will use one of your body lotions.”

Groaning, you sink into the plush mattress, just wishing it would swallow you whole and spare you from this torment. And this was only Day 1? This was going to be a very long five days. 

---

The first night with Satoru, honestly, wasn’t too bad. 

You don’t know what you expected exactly - maybe for him to pour hair dye in your shampoo or something. But he actually stuck to his word, slept on the couch after only a bit of taunting, and used only one of your body lotions. Your best-smelling, most expensive one, but one nonetheless.

Feeling slightly more optimistic, you spent most of the second day at the beach, meanwhile he stuck to lounging by the pool. Add in a bit of pretending you didn’t know him by the salad bar at dinner and that made for an almost-perfect hot girl summer. 

Well, considering that you were rooming with your insufferable longtime ex - in a honeymoon suite of all places. 

The only catch came that night, fully content at the burning soreness from being pushed around by the waves outside. You got ready to splay out on your bed, humming along to the tunes of your playlist and…Satoru’s lamenting?

“I swear my back feels like it’s been run over by a truck. Five of them, and a zoo.” he complains from behind you, dramatically draping himself over the couch - his impromptu bed. 

“Good.”

“What if that was my last straw?”

“Even better.”

His exaggerated, disappointed whine is both embarrassing and almost-endearing as you roll your eyes, resisting the urge to suffocate him with a pillow. “Maybe call your chiropractor guy.”

Satoru shot you a pointed look, his expression a mixture of faux innocence and irritation, which you knew too well. “I wish but he’s trekking through the Himalayas. C’mon~ Don’t you think that lovely king-sized bed is too big for just one?”

“No, but the boardwalk sure is. Maybe you should try it out.” you monotone, getting ready to end this conversation once and for all. 

But when has Satoru ever let you off easy? He sits up abruptly, a devious smile curling his lips. “Ohh, I get it.” he taunts, batting his long lashes mockingly, “You’re scared to sleep in the same bed with me.”

Huh?

“Out of all the idiotic-” you cut yourself off by whirling around to face his smug grin, “Why would I be scared to sleep in a bed with you. I’ve done that far too many times already.”

“Exactly,” he chuckles. “And all those times you could barely last an hour before without keeping your hands off of me. Scared you’ll end up pinned underneath me and stuffed full like old times, sweetheart?”

You narrow your eyes at him despite the heat burning your face. “The only thing I’m scared of is your icicle feet on my side.”

He laughs, a sound that’s equal parts irritating and endearing, and stands up from where he was slumped on the couch. Making his way slowly, but surely towards you, “Oh, c’mon. For old times’ sake, admit it, you miss me.”

"Yeah, missed the peace and quiet I don’t have because of your big mouth,” you scoff. Finding it hard to meet his twinkling gaze as he comes close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. Your cheeks burn at the proximity - hot enough to match the heat radiating off his body. 

Satoru shakes his head, undeterred by your threats. And suddenly you get the overwhelming urge to throw him out the window and straight into the ocean. “You can deny it all you want, but you still have feelings for me.”

Your jaw clenches at his audacity. “You wish. I’d never.”

“Then prove it.”

Damn, he was good.

Which is probably how you found yourself lying in the same bed as Satoru, with a wall of all the pillows in the room erected between you two - and a few extra from room service just in case. 

“Sweetheart, this is a king-sized bed. Is the fortress really necessary?”

You wrap your blankets tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the figure radiating warm right next to you. Muttering out a muffled little, “Yeah, so you can keep your mitts off of me.”

Satoru groans dramatically, bed creaking as he shuffles what you can only assume to be closer to you. “You keep your mitts off of me, you lecher.” he quips, voice dripping with sarcasm as he inches closer.

You stiffen at his proximity, feeling his warmth seep through the layers of blankets and pillows as he chuckles softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. We used to share a bed all the time.”

“That was before,” you interject. God, you didn’t like where this conversation was going. 

“Before what?” Satoru presses, his voice low and insistent. 

Now, you might’ve let yourself be goaded into sharing a bed but these were old wounds better off left alone. You hiss, tone firm, “Before. Now sleep” 

Before when you didn’t have to make a wall of pillows. Before when he would hold you tight and whisper sweet secrets into your ear. That he’d buy you the biggest ring he saw and promise you the world. Before- 

“I missed you, y’know.” Satoru breaks the silence barely audible over the sound of your own thoughts. The word pangs through your mind and claws at your chest. And at your silence he continues, tone a little lighter, “And stop hogging all the blankets, I’m gonna freeze to-”

“Boardwalk.”

“My apologies, ma’am. Goodnight, ma’am.”

And he sinks back into his pillow with a huff, you let out a sigh of relief. Something hot coiling in your stomach as you close try to catch as much sleep as you possibly could with the bane of your existence laying right beside you. The suddenly taller, dangerously handsome, still as-obnoxious-as-ever bane of your existence. 

You just wonder if he remembered “before”.

Oh, how Satoru remembered “before”. So much so that he had sixteen different playlists dedicated to you even after the breakup.

It’s divine punishment - it has to be. Satoru thinks there’s no reasonable explanation for the series of unfortunate events happening to him other than punishment from his ancestors above for being such a pussy and losing the love of his life.

First he forgets his slippers, then he ends up locked out of his own honeymoon suite by said love of his life. Granted, all thoughts of his poor burnt soles went out the window the moment he caught a glimpse of you in that positively sinful bikini. God, were you glowing. A goddess upon Earth - he could really give the Gojo Satoru of five months ago a good, hard kick.

And now he’s stuck in a - very comfortable - prison with you just inches away, tossing and turning in that way he knows means that you can’t sleep either. 

Honestly, very funny universe, the great Gojo Satoru demands a refund. Way to punk’d him into confronting the feelings he’s desperately been trying to bury these past few months - ever since he got on that plane to Tokyo and contemplated faking a heart attack just to get off. 

Realizing just then that he lost the love of his life - and the only woman who’d tolerate his karaoke nights. But with that realization came another, more jarring one: he was too late. 

Every touch, every laugh, and even every time you rolled your eyes was etched into his very soul, and it felt like a montage from a sappy breakup movie directed by a sadistic screenwriter who had it out for him. 

And it really didn’t help that this was the exact suite he was planning once upon a time to propose in. God, how you’d feed him to the crabs if he said anything about that - nevermind the fact that he was actually one that booked this-

But still, some traitorous, annoying part of his heart interrupts, she still hasn’t made you sleep on the boardwalk yet.

Maybe - just maybe - he’ll wake up to a second chance?

…

Ha. As if.

“I can’t sleep.” Satoru groans out loud, more so to drown out his own thoughts than anything.

“Well, I can. Goodnight.”

Ah, his girl was such a lil’ liar. Undeterred, the mattress creaks as he shuffles his weight to excitedly face you, taking a moment to admire how pretty you looked under the dim moonlight. He plows on, “Hey, if you promise not to make me crab food, wanna walk along the beach and watch the stars?”

A beat of silence. One. Two. so deafening and tense that Satoru was half a second away from obnoxiously laughing it off as a joke and pulling out his Emo Times™ playlist. 

“Or I can go back to the couch and-”

“Shut up. Let’s watch the stars, Satoru.”

But what do you know - maybe the universe hasn’t given up on him just yet. 

And, well, if he woke up the next morning breaching your fortress - your warm breath tickling his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, like the lifeline he never knew he needed - then, neither of you mentioned it.

---

“Hey, Satoru. You think we’ll always be like this?” you hum into your boyfriend’s chest, barely a whisper as the looming fears of, well, everything ring in your mind. 

He pulls you close, flashing a mischievous grin before planting a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. “Duh, I’ll always be around to drive you dangerously close to a stroke, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, yet bury yourself closer to his warmth anyway.

“Besides, it doesn’t matter if I have to drag you by the leg to Tokyo. Wherever you are is where I belong. ”

---

You’ve come to learn that a resort island is only so big when you’re actively trying to avoid your 6’3 manchild of an ex.

Now that you were rooming with Satoru, sleeping with Satoru (in a literal sense only, of course), and just-so-happening to bump into him at the beach - somehow, talking with him is a little easier, his presence just a bit more exciting than you’d care to admit. 

If the you of four days ago could see what had become of you, then she’d probably slap some sense into you faster than you could say “Kill Bill”. Sleeping in the same bed (still only literally), having dinner, watching the stars - with Gojo Satoru? You’ve gone completely off your rocker. 

But could you really be blamed? These last few days have you feeling like maybe you’ve been dropped into an alternate universe, where you and Satoru never broke up. 

Yet, reality is a persistent little bastard. And with the end of your trip looming dangerously closer, the past you would be cackling mockingly in your face, flashing a large sign in big, red letters reading “I TOLD you so.” 

Whatever. Maybe by this time tomorrow both of you could laugh this all off as a silly little adventure and call yourself somewhat begrudging friends. Maybe you’d even end up unblocking him by the end - on Gmail, at least.

At the very least, dinnertime was a solace - both from your thoughts and the smug bastard talking your ear off about how he could “make that spaghetti better than a thousand Italian grandmothers.”

Until the fourth - and final - night, that is. When the resort, deciding that your current torture wasn’t already enough, arranged a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

Great. Wonderful. Perfect, in fact. Going out with a bang. Was this really part of the all-inclusive package? It was like the universe was playing some twisted joke on you - or some awful version of wingmanning. 

You grit your teeth silently as you’re ushered to the beachside table, thoughts barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore and the soft, romantic music drifting from the band nearby. 

The complete opposite of Satoru, who was already seated at the table and enjoying himself far too much for your liking. He lounged back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched you sit opposite him uncomfortably.

You hated to admit it - but God was he dangerously beautiful in that crisp white button-up, one that you knew was from his overpriced collection for special occasions. You found yourself fighting to avoid the amber hues twinkling in his eyes as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features.

Pretty? So frighteningly pretty - until he speaks, that is.

“And here I thought our honeymoon couldn’t get any worse. You’re sweating bullets, sweetheart. This your first date with me or something?”

“We’re not on a honeymoon, Satoru. And no, it just brings back memories.” you scoff. Relishing in the way he inches his chair closer to listen, clearly not expecting this sudden sentimentality. “Memories of why I blocked you on every social media.”

All but slamming his head down on the table, Satoru whines out, “Ouch, straight for the jugular. That mouth is still as bitchy as ever, huh? Though I do prefer it choking on my-”

“I’m going to throw you into the ocean.”

“Ooo, kinky~” he hums, swirling his wine glass, “But you know what this reminds me of? That one time we had dinner under the stars.”

You froze, the memories suddenly flashing back to you despite your best efforts to suppress them. “Oh yeah,” you muse. A chuckle leaving your mouth despite yourself, “Wasn’t that where you spilled ketchup all over your shirt and then insisted it was a fashion statement?”

He leans in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! It worked, didn’t it? I got compliments from everyone including you.”

“I was just trying to stop you from bursting into tears.” you roll your eyes, shaking your head at the memory. 

“Exactly, sweetheart. Like moths to a flame.”

“More like to a bug-zapper.”

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, loud and unabashed. A sound that echoes across the beach and makes something warm and sticky strum at your heartstrings. And at that moment, that stupid, little part of you didn’t even mind that you were at a special candlelit dinner. A romantic one. By the beach. With Satoru of all people. 

And he didn’t even have to goad you into it with SZA this time.

As the orange glow of the setting sun melded into the cool blue of the night, it almost felt like slipping back into an old routine. The food had long since been finished. Jabs and shared memories flowing through the air like the gentle waves lapping at the shore.

The cool air was now thick with contentment and something so unknown yet so familiar that it made your heart race. 

 “I swear.” you groan over Satoru’s loud cackles, “He tried to charm his way out of the bill by flirting with the waitress. In front of me.”

Satoru doubles over, clutching his stomach as he laughs uproariously. “Classic move! If he’s going to be a cheapskate then he should’ve at least been successful with it.”

Damn, was he eternally grateful for these dim candles. Otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flushing tinting his cheeks. How dare you sit there so gorgeous and perfect in front of him. Perfect for him - you haven’t changed one bit.

“Right? She looked ready to fling us both out.” You chuckle, eyes catching on the little dimple just at the corner of his mouth as Satoru shoots you a sly grin. “Mhm, I know if it were me I would’ve charmed us out of the bill successfully.”

You raise a brow, retorting, “Oh please. I’ve had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of that ‘charm’. You’d probably end up charming us into washing dishes in the kitchen.” 

Ah, right now, he doesn’t think he wants to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. 

“Ouch, you wound me, woman!” Satoru feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically before leaning down to whisper, low and conspiratorial, “Besides, I doubt you even remember what pleasure feels like since being with me.”

A thrill goes down your spine as you realize the insinuation of his words, steady and searing - matching that of  Satoru’s fingers on yours - which had snuck their way across the table, lazily tracing patterns along your skin. 

When did they even get there? Sly bastard.

Your mouth drops into a soft oh! at the dangerous glint in his eyes. But you refuse to back down, “Don’t flatter yourself, Satoru. I’ve had other guys make me cum much harder than you have.”

Touch burning. Mapping every curve and dip he’d known so well, and this time - you graze them back. A challenge. God, you missed that warm little flutter in your chest. 

That seems to catch him by surprise, as those darkened blue eyes widen. But there’s a dangerous edge to his grin as he purrs, voice low. “Is that so?” 

And with that, Satoru’s chair is scraping softly against the sand as he stands up, “C’mon, you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Oh. 

Satoru knows that it’s been 5 months, 4 weeks, and 8 hours since you two lasted an entire dinner civilly - not that he was counting, duh.

So when he begged the resort staff into setting the two of you up on this special candlelit dinner, he was expecting you to drown him in the lobster tank halfway through or at least end the night with a slap. 

What he certainly did not expect was to end dinner with you shoved against the closed door of your suite, legs wrapped impossibly tight around his waist, and lips trailing hot, openmouthed kisses down your neck. He angles your neck, body pressing so impossibly close to yours.

Inwardly, you curse his button-up for being so goddamn thin that you could feel his abs rub against you with every little movement. Toned chest rumbling as he groans at your hands tugging at those soft locks - just a tiny revenge, for your body lotion. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, and he breathes it in with an almost-pained sigh - not wanting to part for even a second. Because fuck it took so long to get you back and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment. 

Pulling just a hair’s breadth away, “Tell me what you want. Always knew we’d end up-”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you smug bastard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And, well, who was he to deny you? So he does. 

His lips are searing on yours, hasty and greedy. With a tinge of something so painfully familiar. Your hands make their way onto his chest, feeling the thundering heartbeat against your fingertips - matching that of yours. 

Sweet. You tasted so sweet. Just like honey, and all the dreams where he didn’t leave you behind. Where he didn’t get on that damned plane but instead ran to you all the way from the airport like those sappy romcoms you love. 

He licks at the seam of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck - he probably won’t. 

One hand cups your cheek so gently - a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his lips as he kisses you deeper. Meanwhile the other wanders the expanse of your body, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake.

Satoru parts with a playful nip to your bottom lip - and before you realize what’s happening, the zipper hits the ground. He’s ripping your pretty dress off - mumbling something about “buying a new one” before large hands surge forward, groping and kneading your tits.

His mouth waters at the sight of your bra. Light blue - to match his eyes. “You evil, evil woman.” he mutters into the soft valley of your breasts as you giggle delightedly. Oh, how he couldn’t get enough of you.

And if there was ever a moment that Satoru thinks he could cream his pants right there, then this would be at the very top, followed very closely by the sight of that withering glare you shot after opening that suite door to him just a few days ago.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, throwing it blindly across the room as if it killed him to see you clothed. 

Immediately, Satoru drops to his knees with the desperation of a madman, coming face-to face with the heavenly sight of your clothed cunt, soaking through your thin panties. 

“Didn’t specify where I had to kiss, sweetheart.”

Your gaze pierces through him, as it always did. “What are you-” Your words get choked up in your throat as his tongue darts out. Licking a long, languid stripe over your clothed cunt. 

“Shit. So sweet f’me, jus’ like I remember. Just one taste and I feel like m’gonna cum in my pants.” Satoru groans, urgently sliding your wet panties down your quivering legs. 

“F-flattery won’t work.” you stammer out as his hot breath fans your quivering entrance as he waits just a second - one, two.

Drinking in the view of your pretty pussy with dazed, half-lidded eyes. Wet - so wet, he almost wants to tease you - just a bit, to see if you’ll get even wetter. Ah, he doesn’t have enough time to take in this view - probably never will. Would it ruin the mood if he took a picture?

“Oh, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

Cock twitching carnally, Satoru needed to taste you now. He immediately surges forward. Breathing you in so sinfully, pooling your juices on his tongue. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he tips his head back back back to let it slide down his throat. 

Shit, if you were the forbidden fruit then he would gladly be cast out of the garden of Eden. 

Half-delirious thoughts running through his mind, Satoru flattens his tongue across your swollen folds. Leisurely sliding between them, catching on your throbbing clit up and down up and down up and-

“Oh- hngh, Satoru faster-”

“So bossy.” he hums prettily around your swollen clit, the vibrations stimulating it just right. But of course, what his girl wants, she will get. 

Lewd squelches and your mewls of his name ring in the heady room as he speeds up his ministrations. Rolling his tongue harshly along your clit, sucking so sensually. Licking at your sweet cunt, dipping just into your sloppy hole. 

You almost miss the long fingers that deftly slide their way up your thigh, spreading your folds with his thumbs. A low groan sounds at the back of his throat as your walls flutter so sinfully around nothing - aching for more friction. 

Urgently, Satoru bullies his fingers past your folds, sinking deep into your plushy walls as his tongue continues its abuse. So warm and wet around him. Curling his fingers just right.

“Ah- fuck, Satoru- Feels s’good.” you gasp as he starts thrusting his fingers back and forth. A ruthless pace that has tears stinging your eyes, hitting that spot over and over and-

“Oh yeah? Thought you didn’t like my ‘big mouth’?” he purrs, muffled around your clit, “Look at you, sweetheart, now falling apart cos’ of it.”

You scoff, fingers tangling in his silky hair, pushing him deeper into your dripping pussy - mostly because you needed it, but somewhat because you really needed him to shut up. “Yeah, I like it better when you shut the fuck up.”

And with a dark chuckle, his mouth is back on your cunt. Your slick glossy and dripping down the corner of his mouth as he alternates between sucking unforgivingly on your ravaged clit and fucking into you at the same time as his fingers. 

And in the delicious stretch of your cunt, you barely register the metallic clinking of a belt before Satoru presses his clothed erection into you.

Shit. You clench so obscenely around his tongue at the feeling of his clothed, painfully hard and throbbing against your leg. Fuck - as big as you remember. You weren’t gonna be able to walk for a while.

“You like this, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure down your spine.

Cracking an eye open you risk a glance downward. Greedily eyeing the hand wrapped tightly around the base, moving up up up. Pumping in small, jerky movements at the same pace of his fingers fucking into you. “Like the way m’getting off to tonguefucking my girl?”

“Like thinking about how this is what I thought about all those lonely fucking night without you?” You arch into his touch, fingers searing on his scalp and angling Satoru just right to make your knees weak. 

He’s so close that you can feel the precum smearing onto your leg. Mouth fucking you in a way you knew he wanted to with his cock right now. Rough and unrelenting. 

“Like thinking about how you’re all I can fucking think about.”

“Hngh- Yes, Satoru! Yes-” 

You see stars as you cum - or maybe those were the tears in your eyes. Pulling Satoru impossibly closer to your quivering pussy so that you could ride out your high on his pretty face. And he readily accepts it - letting himself be handled roughly with the conviction of a man that wouldn’t mind dying if it was suffocating in-between your pretty thighs. 

Your vision is hazy, blood still roaring in your ears as Satoru stands up. Not even bothering to wipe away the wet trail of your slick prettily glossing his lips before capturing yours in a searing kiss. 

“Y’know, sweetheart,” he gasps in between heated kisses. “We got a king-sized bed so we better make use of it, hm?”

Your back hits the mattress before you can even react. Reeling from shock and the audacity as you bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“Next time you do that you’re-” 

Whatever insult at the tip of your tongue melts away immediately at the purely pornographic sight of Satoru stalking his way towards you from the foot of the bed. Eyes hooded, cock rock-hard, kiss-bitten lips parted slightly in a way that was so fucked-out.

Unhurriedly approaching you with such a predatory glint in his darkened eyes as he fucks his fist slowly - so agonizingly slowly. Eyes locked on you.

Despite cumming not even minutes before, your pussy jumps in anticipation. Immediately reaching over as soon as he’s close enough - as if in a trance - to replace his hand with yours. 

He was big - so mouthwateringly big. Flushed your favorite shade of pink at his leaking tip, pulsing veins glistening in the dim light - every part of Satoru was so unfairly pretty.

So hot and heavy in your hand as you pump him at a steady, methodical pace. Precum smearing on your palm, trailing down your wrist as you pump. Tighter on the base, thumbing teasingly under his slit the way you knew he used to like. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Still remember, huh?” he hisses lowly. Ah, the way he still likes. 

“Mhm.” you hum absentmindedly, thighs clenching together at the way his hips grind in shallow, mindless little motions into your soft hand. Meeting your strokes as if trying to fuck something so delicious out of him.

And, well, you just couldn’t resist a taste. Bending down in one, fluid motion to delicately lick at his angry, hard head. Slightly salty taste on your tongue as you swipe at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. Tracing lightly - ever-so-lightly - down his prominent veins. 

Satoru groans, low and hoarse with desire, “Shit, hah- you don’ ngh- have to-”

“Shut up, Satoru.” 

And with that, you’re shoving down as much as you can of his throbbing erection down your throat. Cunt clenching at the way he hardens impossibly as you choke and gag around him.

“Shit, oh- Oh fuck, m’girl. Yes yes yes-.” Satoru lets out a guttural moan. Fingers threading through your hair as he uses it as leverage to fuck himself slowly, deeper and deeper into your heavenly mouth. Hips stuttering and jerky with pleasure. Yeah, he definitely missed this. 

Half-delirious and cock-drunk, you take him all the way till your nose was buried in the tufts of white at his toned pelvis, already so wet with saliva and precum. 

Still got it, some smug, utterly debauched part of yourself titters. 

It was dizzying, the way he was pulsing in your throat, his heady scent filling your senses. Beginning to move up and down up and down in hasty, desperate bobs of your head. Pulling such lewd gasps and moans from his lips. 

You moan around Satoru’s thick cock, clawing at his toned hips for some semblance of stability. Some truly animalistic part of yourself relishing in the neat, red lines down his milky skin. The sight hazy through the tears that spring to your eyes at the way his fat tip hits your abused throat. A relentless, sinful tempo you were steadily losing your mind to.

Messy.  It was so fucking messy.

You just wondered if his orgasm would be the same…

But, alas, one can’t always get what they want. Because Satoru pulls you off of his achingly hard cock with a lewd pop! that rings in his ears and makes your cunt twitch. 

“Shit, sweetheart. Any longer and I’ll have to start thinking about ol’ Prof. Gakuganji to not cum.” he pants through ragged breaths, flashing you a deceptively innocent grin. “Now, lay back and spread ‘em f’me and let me see if your pretty pussy can still handle me.”

And that you don’t argue with. 

It’s almost embarrassing - the way you scramble desperately to sink back into the mattress. Letting Satoru manhandle your legs open so shamefully for him, throwing them over his muscled shoulders. But that’s a problem for the future, not lust-drunk you. 

Right now you couldn’t give less of a fuck as his hungry gaze locks on your glistening pussy. Pausing for just a split-second before spitting once. Twice. Thrice onto your waiting cunt. Making you feel more and more like an object as the warm saliva mixes obscenely with your slick, trickling down to form such a sinful pool on the sheets below. 

And you liked it.

Almost as much as you loved the way Satoru drags his tip along your swollen folds, catching so maddeningly on your clit. Teasingly pooling your slick on his leaking head. It was so sloppy. And too slow. 

“Satoru, I’ve waited five months too long for this. If you’re going to fuck me then fuck me like you mean it.” you grit out, frustration and pure need boiling over within you. 

“Oh? So it’s like that, huh?” 

And maybe you were a mastermind, maybe you were an idiot - probably both. Because Satoru immediately pushes in one, long thrust into your dripping cunt. Your words catch pathetically in your throat as he loses grip on whatever semblance of restraint he had - or his sanity - whichever one would break you first. 

Fuck, it feels so heavenly. Oh, how you missed him.

Bowing his body down down down till his damp forehead met yours. Folding you completely underneath him in the way you’ve found that only the smug bastard, Gojo Satoru can. 

You could almost sob at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, borderline insane, and exactly what you’d been trying to deny that you’d been craving all these past five months. Being split apart on his throbbing cock, feeling like you were about to be absolutely devoured underneath him. 

It seems Satoru was just as needy for you, hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump against your walls matching that of your heart thundering against your chest. 

Or was that Satoru’s? At this point you couldn’t even tell. 

“Oh, god yes-, jus’ like that ah shit shit shit-”

“This what you wanted, yeah?” A low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully your walls were milking him as he pulls back. All the way till his leaking tip was just innocently kissing your sloppy hole - only to ram his cock all the way back into your snug cunt. “To be split apart on my cock?” 

Shit, he could just about pass out right now with the way your cunt was sucking him in so greedily like she never wanted to part. 

Guess she missed him too, he thinks deliriously. Not even having to think about it as he starts fucking into you in shallow, mindless little thrusts. Pushing himself deeper and deeper into your plushy cunt. 

“Äh- fuck, yeah. S’all I’ve wanted.” you mewl, feeling so vulnerable and exposed under the hungry eyes boring into yours. A dark gleam in them as he grins, “Then take it back.”

Disoriented, you gasp out a strangled, “What?” before Satoru’s hips become rougher, chasing his high as much as yours. 

“What you said at dinner.” your lips fall into a soft oh! as you realize just what he’s talking about, “Admit that no man makes you cum as hard as I do.”

God, you don’t think you could answer even if you wanted to, choking on the harsh, purposeful movements of his hips just to fuck your soul out. 

Heavy balls stinging your skin, the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin fills the heady air. Driving you to insanity. An absolutely unforgiving cadence that has the bed creaking in protest. Ah, whatever, he could buy them a new one anyway if this one just so happens to break.

“Take it back yet?” He had to break you first though.

Slick gushes out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “No.” 

A large hand hastily makes its way down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your throbbing clit. Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier. “How about now?”

“Ah- hngh- oh fuck. Satoru!” You could only moan softly in response, broken whimpers leaving you each time his tip kissed your cervix. Angling his hips just right to expertly brush against that one spot he knew so well would have you keening and bucking up into his cock. Your face almost burns at the sheer familiarity of it all. This bastard knew you too well. 

And something about that made such an uncomfortable, prickly feeling pool in your stomach. 

Something which you knew would only be sated if you looped your arms around his neck. Nails digging into his sculpted back as you pulled him impossibly closer.

Kissing his flushed cheeks as he murmurs, “Take it back, sweetheart.”

Despite the thick cock splitting you in half till you probably couldn’t walk tomorrow morning, you find it in yourself to huff out a soft laugh at the way Satoru’s tone teetered on just that endearing side of sulky. “Fine. You win, Toru.” you whisper into his lips,

And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and Satoru’s lips gently slotting against yours as he fucked you through your high. Acting as if the fucked-out whimper of his nickname is one he’ll never forget. 

As if he couldn’t cum simply from hearing it leave your pretty lips. And he does, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum painting your plushy walls white with a raw groan of your name. It oozes out of your cunt and onto the mess of sheets below as he fucks his seed into you as a lover would. As he would. 

It was intoxicating - everything from the way you milked his cock so sinfully, to the arms tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as Satoru collapses onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. 

And despite being a lightweight, Satoru’s never been so easily drunk off of something than he was off of you. God how he missed this - how he missed you. 

So much so that he can’t put it into words - and probably won’t ever be able to. But it’s alright, because your sticky body snug against his, and Satoru arms tenderly around your waist - but you didn’t mind. Both of you understood.

Satoru traces his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you bothering to tackle the mammoth task of cleaning up for now. Each movement slow and gentle, as if any sudden movement might shatter the delicate balance between you. 

All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. The most contented one you’ve had in a while - 5 months, 3 weeks, and 7 hours ago to be exact.

But, of course, Satoru can’t keep his mouth shut for nothing. You jolt out of your reverie as he hastily tries to stifle the startled laugh that huffs out of him. Your dazed eyes meet his in the dim lighting, raising a brow in question.

“It’s just…” he starts, voice soft, “You still call me Toru. Feels like home.”

Ah.

You find yourself chuckling softly with him. Heat rushing to your cheeks, burying yourself deeper into his warm chest, to hide the embarrassingly flustered smile breaking out across your face if anything. 

Chuckling, Satoru shifts closer, touch now feather-light against your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. Faltering ever-so-slightly as you mutter out, “Happy anniversary, by the way. I didn’t say it earlier because someone was being a public menace.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that someone locked me out of my own honeymoon suite.” he laughs, drinking in your pretty lil’ smile. 

Ah, you were perfect. As you always were. Satoru can’t help but utter out a little, “Hey, if I tell you something absolutely stupid, would you promise not to make me fish food?”

“Absolutely not.”

He knew you’d say that. So he flashes you an easy grin, a hint of nervousness in it that he’s sure you see through - you always do. 

“So…” he begins, “First thing’s first, I’m thinking of expanding my father’s company further overseas and it might just so happen that I’m leading the branch development and get to pick where exactly.”

God, you made him feel like such a teenager. At your stunned silence, Satoru could barely raise his eyes to meet yours as he plows on, stumbling so uncharacteristically over his words, “You, I picked where you are.”

You’re breathless, words barely audible as his sinks in. “What? Toru that’s-”

“And don’t be mad but you kinda sorta didn’t-win-the-raffle-so-instead-I-planned-this-getaway-when-we-were-together.”

Any and every trace of breathless euphoria leaves your tone as you narrow your eyes at the very guilty Satoru beside you. Fidgeting under your intense scrutiny. Finally - after what seems like an eternity - you find your senses after his whiplash-inducing information dump. 

A hand immediately shoots out to squeeze his side, right where you knew he was dangerously ticklish.

“You sneaky little-” you scold over his laughed out yells of, “Mercy! No murder on our honeymoon!” squirming helplessly beneath you.

“I can’t believe you let me chug all that ice cream.”

“Exactly- hah- help! You w-would’ve been so sad that you ah- didn’t win.” he manages to choke out under your attack.

Finally relenting, only once you’re sure he’ll be feeling the burn of laughter until your flight tomorrow, you release him from your grasp. A satisfied smirk playing on your lips as you lean in close. “You’re lucky I still love you, you smug bastard” you deadpan.

“Aww, you beat me to it.” Satoru whines. Yet he reaches out to cup your cheek, “And I love you,” words hanging in the air like a promise. “With every fiber of my being.”

You let yourself be begrudgingly pulled into his embrace again, hands caressing along your skin like the highest form of worship. Satoru sighs out a contented, “Best honeymoon ever.” 

But of course, you couldn’t help but bully your idiotic boyfriend. “This is not a honeymoon, Toru.” you mutter into his heated skin.

He only presses you closer to him. Yeah maybe not, fingers deftly dancing along your left hand. But maybe next time. 

“Wanna watch the stars and tell me all about that branch development?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but first can you at least unblock me on Gmail now?”

“...”

You broke up with Gojo Satoru exactly 5 months, 3 weeks, and 12 hours ago. And as for how long it’s been since he won you back - well, you think it might just be one of the few things you didn’t keep count of.

A/N. Based on my vacay at Lily Beach except I didn’t meet my future husband there :0

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

[notiddygxthgf]

2/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.

★ w.c.; 5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI COOCHIE <3

|  come over tn?

|  i got smth i wanna run by u first

YOU

|  omw.

You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.

Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes. 

Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.

His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.

“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.

When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.

Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.

“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”

He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”

That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.

“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe. 

You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.

You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you. 

“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.

You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.

It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.

You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.

“Nah,” he replied casually.

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…

“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.

The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.

He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him. 

He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He knew.

He had set you up.

Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.

Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.

“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”

He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.

With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.

Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.

He froze. You froze.

For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you. 

Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.

Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.

You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.

Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”

Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .

Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.

“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.

He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”

“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”

You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.

“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”

And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.

“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”

He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”

And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.

You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark. 

Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision. 

“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”

You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs. 

He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze. 

“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”

You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship. 

Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.

His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp. 

“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.

Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.

You felt like you could die here. 

He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you.  Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.

“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.

He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.

“Shit,” You hissed,

He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.

You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face. 

You couldn’t look away.

He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue. 

And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.

You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away. 

You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears. 

Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit. 

He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red. 

“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.

He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”

You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.

“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.

That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side. 

Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination. 

He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.

It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”

He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts. 

But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”

“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.

Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”

Oh. Okay.

Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you. 

“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass. 

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”

You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father. 

“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”

“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.

You paused. His eyes widened.

“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.

“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”

Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”

“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”

“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation. 

You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.

“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”

“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”

Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”

“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.

You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him. 

Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him . 

He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole. 

That was so fucking hot .

Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.

It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.

But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.

Maybe some prep should have been in order…

Oh well, gotta see it through.

As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. 

“You okay?” He asked you.

No . Yes.

“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ‘jus need a minute.”

“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”

It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.

Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.

It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion. 

Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.

With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.

“Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”

“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly. 

You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?

“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”

Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.

He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.

With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?

“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan. 

It was you. You and another muffled voice.

“Choso, Choso!” 

“Right there?”

“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”

He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.

“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.

Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake. 

“Fuck me harder,” You pled.

And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.

You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–” 

The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle. 

“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.

“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”

There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.

“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.

You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.

“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”

His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck. 

He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling. 

“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.

You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.

You were close. So close.

Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there. 

He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.

I wanna have his kids .

Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.

The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end. 

But, shit, it was about to.

“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”

“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.

That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.

“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”

You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.

Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.

Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”

He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.

You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.

The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.

He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.

Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.

You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…” 

“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”

“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”

Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”

Sleep here.

You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.

He wants me to spend the night with hiim.

You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”

Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”

Your world went black a moment later.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.

His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.

With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.

As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend. 

Itadori.

“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”

Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth. 

“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”

“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”

“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.

“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said,  “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”

You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”

You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.

Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke. 

Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.

With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”

“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”

You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.

CHOSO    just now

Whered u go beautiful

Your phone chimed a second time.

CHOSO    just now

Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz

You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”

“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”

Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.

a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #choso kamo #kamo choso #choso #choso jjk #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso x you #chousou #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #yuuji itadori #itadori x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #choso smut #choso fluff #jjk x reader

[roseykat]

TITLE: Venom Biter

PAIRING: Minho x reader

SUMMARY: The end of a relationship between you and Minho turns as sour as it could ever get. A lovers to enemies trope.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: breakups, hate sex, post-breakup sex, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, manhandling, push and shove, spitting, choking, oral sex (f!reader receiving), angst, strong hints of degradation, use of degrading names such as 'slut' and 'whore'.

A/N: this was originally meant to be for one of the days I had planned for Kinktober but I was up to my neck in work and I didn't want to post something sort of half-assed so I had to hone down on most of the work for this piece.

MASTERLIST

“Broke up?” Chan’s eyes refuse to blink. “You two broke up!?”

His confused filled stare shoots for the direction of his best friend, Minho, who quietly sits opposite him across the table. He looks slightly withdrawn or…off colour. It can’t have been the gruelling two hour lecture they finished before heading out to lunch. If it were that, Minho would be complaining his head off saying how boring it was or cursing himself for not changing his minor earlier. 

He’s just not his usual self. In other social settings, he could talk until the cows came home. But the entire hour that they’ve spent together at lunch, Chan has been doing all the conversing and only receiving vague one-word answers. It wasn’t until he asked what was up with Minho that his friend dished out the news that he and his girlfriend - you, had split up.

“Why?” Chan proceeds, still swimming in shock.

A sigh leaves Minho’s mouth. He truly doesn’t feel like revisiting this subject. When he even thinks about the answer, all he can recall is the firey shouting match you both had the day things crumbled. 

“It’s messy,” he replies with a cloudy and ambiguous answer. 

“If you talk about it, then it might help you make sense of it all.”

He groans this time, “I really, really don’t want to do that. What’s done is done.” 

“Done?” Chan questions, still not letting up on an interrogation. “You were in a relationship with Y/N, for years. You guys talked about a whole future together. That’s not something you just sweep under the rug and forget about.”

If there’s one thing he almost did forget about, it’s that you were friends with him - not just Chan, but the seven others as well. After all, it was Minho who introduced you to those select people whom he calls his brothers. They would’ve found out eventually if Minho refrained from telling them who you were dating all those years ago.

Though naturally, you became very close with them. 

“We’ve both chosen to do that so there’s nothing really much left to dispute.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrow, realising he left out a crucial question to the situation, “why did you guys break up in the first place?”

Minho feels like he’s going to run out of sighs, “she doesn’t love me anymore and I don’t love her anymore. That’s literally all there is to it.” 

“You’re telling me you both fell out of love - at the same time,” Chan responds, still having a difficult time trying to comprehend his friend's situation.

“Pretty much,” Minho confirms with a nod. 

Chan finds that extremely hard to believe from his friend - the very person who would enter a different realm whenever he was in a five centimetre radius of you. His eyes would glaze over as if he were possessed; always fixated on you, he’d smile more than he usually would, and was comfortable in the space around you. 

There had to be another reason, surely. 

But it had almost been three weeks since Chan dissected the news out of Minho, and it was almost like pulling teeth trying to dive for the details. Each attempt was as fruitless as the next and in the end, Chan just plucked the same answers.

Regardless, it seemed to play out better than expected. Minho saved himself from having to dish out explanations as to why you wouldn’t be around anymore. As a result, telling Chan was the best option and since the others didn’t know, Minho was okay with him telling them so that he didn’t have to. 

In saying that, Minho left out very central details of what happened leading up to the breakup. He never mentioned the constant fighting, the lying, the false accusations, the shouting matches, up until the point where you were both swimming in the toxicity the pair of you created. 

He also absconded from the fact to Chan that not only did you both separate, but you’ve also both come to view the other differently and not through a good lens. Minho shouted it in your face the other day to which you did the same; “I hate you.” And that was that.

But his friends probably didn’t need to know all of that. 

Since that day, you’ve been in the process of trying to find an apartment for yourself which isn’t easy. You want to remain in town and not too far out so that you don’t have a long commute to work, and at the same time, you don't want to break the bank trying to find a nice place to rent in the city. All in all, it was tough, but you were ready to just leave. 

Having packed up the majority of your stuff in boxes, all you had to do was wait for landlords to contact you back about possible vacant apartments. Thankfully Minho was lenient in allowing you to stay until you found a place. 

You slept in the spare room, mainly keeping to yourself and the boxes of things surrounding the space. Occasionally you would have to lock yourself in there and throw on some noise-cancelling headphones whenever Minho brought around another woman to sleep with.

It was his house, you knew that and now that you have no ties to him and he’s letting you stay, it was never your place to question his actions. 

Still, that could never lessen the hurt. It was painful which is why you hated him so much. You don’t know how a person could move on so quickly after so many years of being told how much you’re loved. It was like he never meant it. With that being said, when you eventually managed to find a decent place, you were free from Minho. 

All of your items were ready to be moved out, taking a couple of days to actually get them to your new place. In the tiring process, you also had to factor in your work schedule which meant it would take longer to continue moving your stuff. Nonetheless, you had the majority of your boxes out of Minho's house with only a few remaining that you needed to swing by and pick up.

"Something wrong?" he wears a blank look on his face when you arrive on the doorstep to his house.

"Some of my stuff is still here, can I come in to grab it please?" You ask politely. He gives a silent answer in return by opening his door wider for you to walk in before he goes back to whatever it was he was doing.

You make your way into the spare room where the last of your things remain, but there is one odd detail you notice as you approach the items. What was supposed to be taped down lids to the boxes had in fact been opened; not in the state you had originally left it in. 

"Minho," you call out, hoping he heard you.

Sure enough, he did. Minho walks into the spare room with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's been summoned, "what?"

“Why are these open?” You ask, lifting one box off of the other to check if the rest were open as well. “Half of my stuff isn’t in here.”  

“You were coming back for those?” he replies with a question. 

“What the hell else would I be coming back here for?” 

“That's what I thought when you got here,” he says. “I thought it was for other things that you left behind, not ones in these boxes."

Your eyes never leave his face, tracking any sudden shifts in his muscles to try to figure out if he’s actually telling the truth or not. Even though you and Minho aren’t together, you're sure he wouldn't do anything malicious out of spite.

“So why is half my stuff missing?” 

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you didn’t need any of it and that you left it here on purpose for me to deal with or throw out.” 

“So what…” you trail off, expecting his answer. Minho hesitates for a few moments, sitting on the fence about whether he should actually tell you or not. But the least he can do right now is be honest. 

“I told the…girl I bought around the other day that if she wanted anything-“ 

“No you fucking didn’t.” 

“-she could have whatever was left in the boxes,” Minho finishes the rest of his sentence which would’ve been better for you not to hear. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you for leaving them behind in the first place!” Minho argues back, trying to defend himself here even though he knows he’s in the wrong. “You were gone for a few days Y/N, I thought you just left!” 

“I never left them behind! I told you how long it was going to take my things to move!” You shout at him, tears brimming your eyes. “Now my stuff…”

The hurt genuinely sets in. Minho feels a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he sees how visibly upset you are. He knows that he’s been nothing short of a dickhead within the past month and now he’s gone and made things worse. It’s no point in him now to say that it was an honest mistake.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, truly.”

You shove him backwards into the dresser, knocking down some of the empty photo frames that were once homes for pictures of you and Minho, “you’re not sorry. You’re the fucking worst.”

Taken aback by your actions, Minho turns behind him to see the frames flat on the surface then looks back at you, “seriously Y/N, I would not have done that out of spite.”

“But it’s the fact that you still did it!” You raise your voice at him and shove him back again. “You didn’t bother calling or texting me about it when you should’ve!” 

Minho predicts your next move and catches your arms to stop you from pushing him back impossibly further into the dresser. He shoves you back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed which causes you to land on it behind you.

Before the surprise kicks in, Minho is kneeling on top of you, nearly straddling your lower half as he starts pinning your arms to the side of your head. Yet with a split second of momentum to break free, you struggle but manage to flip the tables and pin Minho on his back. 

You mount his hips before your mouth comes down to kiss Minho so aggressively that it takes him a moment to react. With any other woman that he’s slept with so far, he would allow them to be on top. But because it’s you, and supposedly hates your guts, not to mention his untapped pride, it’s not going to happen. So Minho fights back, kissing and biting nearly every part of your upper body in the process until you’re under him. 

He sucks large, deep, red hickies into the skin of your neck, in places where everyone would be able to see them. Minho would want people to know that you’re just a whore he uses. Especially for the next guy you sleep with who would go down on you and see the myriad of hickies that Minho would eventually put between your thighs when he rips your pants down. 

“Wanna play this fucking game with me,” he rasps before yanking down your off. 

Despite being a dickhead Minho will still eat you out for prep. But it’s not soft and teasing when he does go down on you. It’s tongue and finger fucking you until you’re dizzy from how hard you’re about to cum. It gives you the opportunity to pull and tug on his hair until his scalp starts burning, forcing you to be as vocal as you’ve ever been. 

His fingers curl up into that sensitive spot while his tongue and mouth work simultaneously. He’s always been good at giving head, but unusually better now that he’s relatively angry. In the back of your mind, you supposed it helped having not slept with anyone for a month, making it easier to reach that peak of delicious, eye-rolling ecstasy. 

“Fuck!” you scream out, voice projecting throughout the room as Minho sucks on your clit. “Fuck you…you’re gonna make me cum.” 

Those words are something Minho could never get tired of hearing you say. Even in the headspace that he’s in now, he wants nothing more than to hear how good he’s making your body feel. However, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you’re about to cum. When your walls seize and clamp around his fingers, when you’re trembling around his head, Minho knows what that means. 

The quick drag of his fingers is only light work for him, pumping at a pace that has you panting to try and keep up with it. As a result, it’s not long before Minho brings you to your sweet release; a toe-curling burst of euphoria that has you silently creaming around his fingers. 

He has no patience for you to descend from your orgasm, sucking his fingers clean as he pulls away from your pussy. He gets to unbuckling his belt faster than he can even comprehend that this is still happening. 

“H-Hurry,” you whine, trying to quell the hunger for Minho’s cock while you wait.

His eyes squeeze shut, hissing as he coats his length with your slick, “shut the fuck up.”

Despite being in a haze post-orgasm, you manage to sit up quickly to turn and push Minho down by his shoulders. You find yourself straddling his hips once more, reaching down and behind for his cock, aligning it with your hole. Minho allows you to work for it yourself, watching his cock vanish by the second as you sink down. 

“Mmm…f-fuck,,” you whine, unable to come to grips with how much you miss him filling you out. 

Taking a couple of slow strokes up and down allows you to realise that never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine hate sex with Minho would be this…rough. Both of you pushing, shoving, and manhandling each other around, speaking to each other with such disregard for the other person's feelings – beyond the point of degradation.

“Come on,” Minho grunts, fingernails embedding themselves into your hips so that the indents remaining become as equally as vibrant as the hickies blooming on your neck. 

You look down at him with disgust before your hand lowers to his throat, choking him out by the sides of his neck. That familiar feeling of restriction to Minho forces him to repress his sick enjoyment of it, even more so when you start really riding him. 

“Fuck you,” you strain out, trying to assert some degree of control even though you’re battling with oversensitivity from your previous orgasm. 

You slam your hips down repeatedly, building up a good pace and rhythm that’s enough for small moans to force their way out of your mouth. With a cock like Minho’s, it’s impossible to keep quiet no matter how much you try. However, as you work for your own orgasm, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction by making him think that he’s the one doing it; yet in reality, he is. 

Nonetheless, you continue to use him just as much as he’s using you until the luxury of pleasure accelerates in the pit of your stomach. In saying that, it doesn’t take long for Minho to find that information out as you continue to ride him. The observation is clear-cut;

“Nobody’s fucked you since me haven’t they?” He asks you breathlessly, watching you roll your hips deliciously over his cock. “Know how I can tell? Because you keep fucking clenching around my dick.”

Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to find an answer for him because he is right and that’s not your fault, “s-so what? Want me to stop?” 

“Didn’t say that, did I?” He argues back, too proud to say ‘no’. “Just…just keep moving.”

A firm hand of yours catches his taut jaw, and while his mouth is open, you lean down and spit right in it. 

You curse right at him, “fuck you.” 

His eyes lock with yours and for a moment, Minho is shocked, but not in a bad way. In that moment you despised him so much that he made you do something a normal person would find disgusting. Although it’s not long before a sick smirk spreads across his face, failing to pretend as if he didn’t just enjoy that, swallowing it back. 

“Course you’d be into that you fucking whore,” he rasps, his body jolting every time your hips slam down. 

“I’m not the whore who’s taking it,” you snipe back at him. 

Your comment riles Minho, resulting in him nearly bucking you off his body before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanks both of your hands behind your back as something for him to latch onto when he pushes his cock back into you, and starts fucking hard and fast. 

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. 

The new angle makes his dick slip in just that extra bit deeper, achieving a sensation which you miss all too much. With the amount of relentlessness that Minho puts behind his thrusts is nothing but a fast, brutal, and unforgiving type of fucking. He’s not holding back with you, no matter how much you hate him and he hates you, he will fuck you to tears.

“Such a fucking slut,” he drives forward nastily. “Needy, loud, slut.” 

Your choked moans and whimpers are typical responses to hearing him call you that name again. In bed, if you weren’t his lover, you were his slut. Minho wouldn’t care less if the bed broke beneath him trying to fuck you like the whore you always wanted him to treat you as. But it was phenomenal.  

Now, that’s only a distant memory clawing to come back. 

“Make me cum…make me fucking cum,” you demand, acknowledging how close you are to the cliff of ecstasy.

Minho's breathing picks up from hearing the pure desperation in your voice, and so does his pace. His only release is not but a minute away, respecting that and also his motive to continue rearranging your guts. 

Yet the possibility of keeping up any longer draws to a short term. Minho’s hold on your wrists behind your back becomes a solid death grip with no chance of escape until the wet heat from your pussy has his hips jumping out of rhythm. 

His head tilts to the sky, the pleasure screaming at him from the base of his cock, “y-yes, fuck I'm cumming.”

At that very instant, Minho’s release rocks him over. His hands let go of yours in lieu of grabbing onto your ass instead. The pain and sting of his fingernails scraping deep into your flash forces strained whimpers and mewls from your throat, helping to push you over the verge of your second orgasm. 

“Y-Yes, cumming, oh fuck-” you cry out with a shaky voice, stiffening while your hole seizes rhythmically around Minho’s length. 

The pleasure is throat-gripping, making you forget the words to express how good you feel. Except, in the vapour of your orgasmic haze, you still don't want to accept the fact that it's Minho who makes you feel that way.

He pauses for a moment then thrusts hard back into you, making you keep the warm load that you were so undeservingly given, regardless if your walls are spasming and contracting it out. Then just as he was fast to try to get inside you, he's just as fast when he pulls out and flops beside you.

The air in the room becomes breathable again now that your heart rate isn't racing to the heavens, but picks back up quickly when you decide to hop off the bed and get dressed. You couldn't care less if you were sore and unbalanced. The thought of staying in the room with Minho any longer was suffocating.

“About your stuff,” he starts, filling the silent void with an exasperated voice. “I’ll try to get it back.” 

You zip your jeans up, “don’t bother. I know you did give it away for whatever reason, but for what reason is something I’m betting you’ll take to the grave with you.” 

Minho is up and now following suit by putting his clothes on. If now is the time to get one thing off of his chest, it’s now. Since the day you both separated, there has been no proper conversation. Both of you are too stubborn to admit wrongs and fix rights, but in your eyes, it's too far gone. There’s no going back to a good thing that was once more. 

"I won't if we can just talk it out," he offers the opportunity to you.

“Minho, the nights that I had to listen to you fuck someone else in the next room right after we just broke up was a clear sign that we did not need to talk it out. All it made me do is realise that you didn't actually love me."

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head as you hear a twinge of desperation in his voice like he's pleading his case. "That's not true at all."

"It is though," you correct him. "You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted to because we had broken up at that point, but not a day after that did you wait."

Minho follows through with his explanation, “I was trying to get you out of my head. Spending too long just thinking about you makes me want to lose it. It didn't mean that I never loved you before."

“So you’re just going to continue being delusional? To fuck your way through trying to forget me?” You question, nearly laughing. "I honestly think you're just being pathetic."

He shrugs, “if it means that I don’t have to feel heartbreak, then yes.”

Part of you gets it. Minho’s found a vice and is using it as a tool to deal with his pain. But you’re in pain too, and you haven’t done anything to upset him ever since you split. Maybe it is as bad for him as he says it is. Maybe he doesn’t truly know how to navigate himself out of this like you’re attempting to.

It’s almost a rebuttal to your statement about whether he truly loved you or not; if he’s using other people to drive the thought of you out of his brain because it’s too painful to deal with, then maybe you were more than just a lover to him. 

"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I cannot stand being around you anymore because of how much it hurts to know that you're not actually with me. I'd rather try to forget your existence in order to not feel that type of heartbreak," Minho explains, his words coming from a place inside him that must've just opened up.

But he continues, "the second we split, I needed every last memory of you out of this house. But I know that this hurts you too and that this past month I’ve hurt you and that’s no justification to say that my reason is because you mean more than my entire life.”

There’s an ache in your chest that you’ve never felt before, a blend of all the emotional pain that could’ve been prevented had the two of you just talked. But that ache is fuelled by the fact that you can hear the waiver in Minho’s voice, and even though his back is still turned to you while he sits on the edge of the bed, you’re sure he’s crying.

-

A/N: Dare I say that I want to make a part 2 to this where Minho and reader try to rekindle, things are pretty tender but they sort of want to make it work...

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader

[dramioneasks]

Top 10 Most “Kudos-ed” (Completed) Fics on AO3 of 2023:

Damaged Goods by slytherin_after_dark - E, 50 chapters, Words: 150,499 - Hermione, now in her mid-20s, is back at Hogwarts to pursue higher education. Trying to forget the trauma carved into her by the war, she spends one lust-filled night with a certain pureblood. But that night will have consequences. While her personal life unravels, a string of mysterious murders forces her to work together with Draco Malfoy, who himself seems to carry many secrets. "He scared her. Not because he wielded killing curses like they were nothing, but because he seemed to understand her in a way that even she didn’t. The more she let him in, the more power he had to destroy her." Come for the smut, stay for the plot. Read if you like: - Murder mystery - Dark Arts - Hurt/ Comfort - Hermione and Draco both deal with PTSD - Angst, so much angst

In These Silent Days by HeyJude19 - E, 14 chapters, Words: 67,209 -Hermione is familiar with fighting: for respect, for attention, for justice. She’s even made a career of it; working on behalf of creatures and beings. But her battle against the Ministry’s marriage law is one she loses. Badly. And now, she has to contend with not only public derision and patriarchal politics, but her growing feelings for her government-mandated spouse.

The Silver Envelope by sinflower81 - E, 70 chapters, Words: 192,647 - “Tell me again to release you, Granger. Tell me again that you just want to be friends.” It’s been five years since Draco last spoke to Granger. Things are different now, and though earning her trust will be a challenge, he can’t seem to keep himself away. Hermione has been busy advocating for elves around the world, but when her breakup with Ron turns her life upside-down, she knows there’s only one person who can help her. Alternating POVs between Hermione and Draco. Slow burn, eventual smut, light dom/sub. Diverges from canon after Voldemort's defeat.

In Silence & Submission by gillianeliza - E, 29 chapters, Words: 69,694 - 10 years after the war everything has changed. Enemies turned into friends and lovers. Fear turned into hope. Pain into joy. Everyone has moved on except for Hermione Granger. Nestled within her friend group, now made up of not just Harry and Ginny, but also Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and of course Draco Malfoy, she was content to allow the trauma of her past to haunt her. More than just content - it was what she felt she deserved - until one evening Draco Malfoy decided enough was enough. This is a low stakes, split POV fic that deals heavily with life AFTER the Battle of Hogwarts. You will find the POV of either Hermione or Draco stated in bold italics, in the middle whenever it shifts. Please read all tags as this work deals with BDSM, kink, trauma recovery, & suicidal ideation.

A Game of High Stakes by In_Dreams - E, 51 chapters, Words: 263,110 - In theory, the task is simple: kill Draco Malfoy. In practice, putting a curse through the Dark Lord's favoured lieutenant will take everything Hermione has―especially since he's trying to kill her, too. Even more so when the lines between them start to blur. Sometimes, the only way out is through.

Hogwarts: A History (Hermione's Version) by Lizzie_carlile - M, 38 chapters, Words: 141,828 - Lord Voldemort has been defeated, and the children of the Wizarding War are thriving. When the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black is adopted and takes her place in the family with her loving fathers, a new trio is formed. With her best friend and her brother by her side, Hermione Black is thrust into a world that she never knew existed. Will whispers from the past threaten to destroy the world she knows? Or will love once again conquer all? Another take of the Nice Things AU. What would happen if Draco asked Hermione to the Yule Ball before Ron Weasley had a chance to?

Teach Me How to Forget by scullymurphy - E, 20 chapters, Words: 109,646 - Hermione Granger is 27 years old when her life falls apart. Cheated-on, flatless, fed up with her job, she decides to change one thing she can--take a class and try for some career advancement. But change is never easy, especially when an old enemy is the catalyst. And the class instructor. "Just as the minute hand clicked over to the hour, the doorknob twisted and a figure slipped into the room. He was tall, a bit windblown. Hermione had a general impression of crisp cuffs and polished leather, and then a more specific one of the most beautiful grey coat—highlighting his shoulders and eyes, skimming to just the right place on his knife creased trousers. His movements were precise and confident. He was wearing the softest-looking gloves. He was not Professor Belinda Rowle. He was Draco bloody Malfoy."

The Order of Serpents by bl_crtz - E, 44 chapters, Words: 193,506 - During the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter walked into the forbidden forest, died, and walked out with crimson eyes as the new vessel of the Dark Lord. Since then, Hermione Granger served as an elite member of the True Order, isolating herself from other Order members and going on missions alone, not only haunted by the loss of her best friend, Harry, but Ron who had run away after the battle. Three and a half years later, Draco Malfoy shows up with his two year old son on the Order’s doorstep seeking to switch sides. Together, Draco and Hermione are forced to deal with not only each other, but their own past and confront who they’ve become because of the war.

The Contender by rubykrishna - E, 9 chapters, Words: 58,875 - Hermione stopped walking. Her eyes scanned back up the roster until they found the name that she initially mistook for a typo. Draco Malfoy….Beater. She could comprehend the words, the name and the meaning. She understood that his name being on the roster meant he was the starting Beater for England’s national team, but for whatever reason, when her eyes ran over the black ink, her brain could not articulate any emotions or reaction. 

Sincerely Yours by LovesBitca8 - E, 10 chapters, Words: 40,759 - A smile tickled the corners of Hermione’s mouth as she clicked Send. She listened to the whoosh of the message and then turned off her computer. When the ping! had come in, she’d had one foot half-out the door of her flat. She’d dropped her coat and darted for her computer desk, a wide grin blossoming at her inbox. You’ve Got Mail.

#dramione #year wrap up #ao3 #favourite fics #2023

[sapphicmsmarvel]

the beginning of your life with Azriel

Tw: bad mental health mentioned. Mentioned r*pe and murder of said r*pist 

buckle in friends, we got a long one ahead of us. (long for me to write okay)

tropes: friends to lovers, taking care of future S/O, fluff to angst then back to fluff

When Azriel had met you, he had no idea just how important you would become to him. 

You were Feyre’s beautiful friend from the mortal world, a friend that was taken with her sisters. A friend that fought against Hybern every step of the way. A friend that drew blood from the High Lord of the Spring because he hurt Feyre and you knew the truth. You had smacked the shit out of Tamlin. 

So when your High Lady and High Lord asked you to be the Night Court’s Justice, you readily agreed. 

It was…nice to get that anger out on people that had harmed your loved ones. 

So you began training, you originally were training with just Cassian and Azriel, then when Nesta needed some outlet, you extended the offer to her. 

Well, it wasn’t really an offer. 

She was bitter towards you for it for the longest time. But she eventually, apologized to both you and Feyre for her bitter words, but you both obviously forgave her. 

You knew how bad shit had gotten when you were first turned. Bitter, angry, resentful. But instead you went to different coping mechanisms. You poured everything into helping others, to the point where you were neglecting yourself. Rhysand had pulled you out of it, but that’s a story for another day. 

(read about that here) 

Azriel saw the shift in you then, the day you killed your rapist and brought peace to the survivors. He watched as the pathetic man pleaded for forgiveness. 

Since then, as stated earlier, you began training so you’d be able to fight. When you became the night courts justice, you and him developed a partnership. You were work partners. You two only trusted each other completely unconditionally. It was a hard relationship to build. But after a year of countless missions where every single one was successful, it became pretty easy. 

Late nights eating in a dingy inn room. If you stayed in an inn room that had only one bed, he’d say he was going to take the floor but you eventually persuaded him to just climb into bed with you. 

You two never split up unless it was vital to the mission. You two trusted each other to do things on your own, but sometimes two was better than one. 

You learned the most intimate things about each other. How he doesn’t like when beds are too soft because it feels weird (from ya know sleeping on a dingy floor his whole youth). You can’t sleep unless you bathe every single day. You snore and talk in your sleep while he sleeps perfectly still like he’s laying in a casket. 

When you go on separate missions, he can’t sleep because he doesn’t know if you’re safe or not. You can’t sleep because you miss the brooding bat. 

You helped train the valkyries, hell, you were even taken to the blood rite. 

He had never been so nervous in his life during that time. You were his partner and he couldn’t be there to help you. Frankly, he’d call you his best friend. Rhysand and Cassian knew him extremely well, but you were something else to him entirely. 

The second he saw the four of you walk out, he was so relieved he nearly fell to the ground and thanked the mother. 

You guys had been close before the Rite, and now you were even closer. 

A lot of times, you tried to face your nightmares alone. However sometimes it was difficult so you’d walk to his room to sleep there. His body and shadows were so attuned to your movements that he never jumped when you crawled into the bed. He knew the second you opened the door that it was you. 

He can’t explain it, it was just a sixth sense. Like, you guys would be out and about and he would just know you were about to do some stupid shit with Cassian. 

He started realizing what he truly felt for you after the Blood Rite. How his heart felt lighter when you were in his sight. How he always chose to sit next to you, or be by you.

Cassian finally had enough, so did Feyre apparently because the both of them ambushed him one night, “so when are you finally asking Y/N out?” Cassian demanded.

Azriel looked like he got caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. “What?” 

“Feyre and I-”

“No, you dragged me here.” Feyre corrected her beloved brother in law. 

“Because you’re her best friend!” 

“Which means I shouldn’t be hearing this because I am legally obligated-”

“Legally?” Azriel questioned. “By Girl Law-“ She cut a look at Azriel who held his hands up in an “I surrender” position. She pointed at him. “This is shit I have to tell her if I hear it. So la la la la.” She plugged her ears and walked away.

Cassian shook his head at her retreating figure. “Crazy woman.” He looked back at his brother and smacked him on the chest. “You need to make a move!”

“What.” Az simply stated. 

“You. Need. To. Make. A. Move!” After each word, Cassian hit Azriel in the chest. 

Azriel swung at him to get him to stop. “Ack!” 

“She’s head over heels for you, idiot!” 

Azriel hesitated. “I don't think so.” 

“Dude, she literally smiles the biggest when she sees you come in the room. She always stays by your side, she constantly shares her food with you.” Cassian explained.

“She does that with everyone.”

“No! No she does not! I tried to take a roll from her yesterday and her fork almost impaled my hand.”

“Bread and butter is one of her favorite things. You’re an idiot for that.” Azriel deadpanned.

“See! Another thing, you two know each other as intimately as lovers.”

Eventually, he got Cassian to stop, but that night he just could not stop thinking about you. Your smile lights him up from the inside. Especially your genuine smile. The one where your gums are showing, your teeth, your nose scrunches and your eyes squint. 

He loves your laugh, it is the song his shadows dance to. You have variations that he memorizes as if they’re the chords to his favorite music. 

He groaned into his pillow, his shadows silently laughing at him as they saw their master lovelorn. 

Although, even they knew you had feelings for the shadow singer. Their master, while one of the deadliest in Prythian, was a moron. 

The feelings for each other didn’t get exposed until later. Much later. 

You two were on a deadly mission, one that even Rhys was worried to send you on. You had completed the task, but the cost? 

Your health. 

One of the arrows was poisoned. You couldn’t move a single muscle below your neck. You were tired. You just wanted a warm bath and snuggles with Azriel.

“Y/N, please stay awake.” Azriel clutched your cheeks. “The healer is on her way. She’s running to you, baby. Please stay awake.” 

You felt water drop onto your face, you looked up at the sky wondering when it had begun to rain. 

It hadn’t. Your friend, your partner, was crying. 

“I love the stars.” You whispered. “My favorite one is right in front of me.”

“Yeah? Which constellation is that?” His voice was gravelly. He sniffed.  He looked up then back at you, as if the idea of letting you out of his sight would seal your fate.

“You. You are my constellation. You are my galaxy.” You whispered. “If I'm going to die, I want you to know that.” 

“You’re not going to die.” 

“We don’t know that.” You said. “I wish I could move my hand, so I could touch you.” 

“I’m right here.” His hands were on your face. 

“No, I want to hold your hand.” You whimpered. 

He looked taken aback but abided by his dying love's wish. He held your hand tightly. 

“If I am your galaxy, you are my moon.” He put your foreheads together. All you could see was the hazel of his eyes. “You ground me. You keep me in rhythm. You are my constant companion. And I vow, you will survive this and we will be together, okay? You are my strength, my salvation and you will live.”

Your eyes slipped closed right as the healer reached you. 

——————-

When you awoke, you felt a presence next to you. You looked to the side through your groggy eyes and saw Azriel laying next to you. His hand was still intertwined with yours.  His shadows dancing around your bodies. They got visibly excited when you awoke. 

One shot towards your face as if to cradle it and your hand that wasn’t holding Azriels, shot up in reflex. It twirled around your fingertips. 

You could move again. 

Azriel’s eyes shot open, they were incredibly bloodshot. “Oh love.” He said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by all of Feyre’s abilities at once.” You groaned. “Throw Rhys in there too. And you and Cassian.” You sighed. “Frankly, it feels like everybody hit me with their full powers.”

“The Healer, Tatiana, said you’d feel that way.” He stroked your hand. “Completely normal for the dose of poison you received. She even threw in five bottles of the antidote and instructions for us to give to Madja, so our home healer has information.”

You sighed. “Anything for this pain?”

“No. Nothing will help. You just have to ride it out.” He looked depressed giving you that news.

But you couldn't hide how you felt. How much pain you were in. You were safe enough with Az to crumble your walls.

And that’s when your tears started. “It hurts so bad.” You whimpered. 

“I know.” He brushed them away. “Rhysand is sending a carriage to transport you back home. I was told not to risk winnowing or flying. It’ll be here tomorrow morning, I assumed that you’d want to go home as soon as possible.”

“What if I didn’t wake up now?”

“We still would’ve transported you. I want to keep you comfortable. Tatiana says there is little risk of your sutures opening from where you were shot. Plus, she says the effects of poison won’t flare up after 12 hours and we hit that about five hours ago. So you’re pretty much on track to recovery. We’re just taking a carriage to minimize the risk of you bleeding out or vomiting all over a city. Cause guess what? that’s a symptom too.”

“Fucking shit.” You said leaning against the pillow. “Where are we?”

“An Inn, Esther the inn owner found us in the woods and ran back to get a town healer. She won’t let me pay at all.” He seemed kind of pouty about that. “But I’m gonna try again tomorrow.”

He brushed your hair back. “Are you hungry?”

“Eh.” Was all you said, and then. “Bread and butter sounds nice right now.” 

He snorted and you cried indignantly. “Hey I am ill-“

“Oh relax. I’ve already prepared for this.” He squeezed your hand and got up. 

When he let go of your hand and you’d be damned if you showed how sad you were about that. 

You were pouting. 

He used a knife to slice open some rolls and put them by the lit fire. “I know you like warm bread and cold butter but you’ll have to settle for room temperature butter.” 

He brought you over a plate and glass of water. The bread was even spread with an unholy amount of butter. Just the way you like it. 

He got you set up against the headboard. You downed the glass of water and he quickly gave you a refill. After your belly was full and you felt a bit better, you looked over at him. 

“So you wanna talk about what I said when I was….” You trailed off. 

“Did you mean it?” He whispered. 

“Yes!” You whispered enthusiastically back. “Az, since the very first day I met you I have had a crush on you.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes!” You cried, your head hitting the headboard. “Gods, Cassian and Feyre wouldn’t let me breathe about it. Same with Nesta.” 

“I didn’t know.” Azriel said. 

“I know.” You sighed. “I’m sorry if me saying that stuff on my deathbed pressured you into saying anything.” “It didn’t.” He took a deep breath. “I have been infatuated with you for far longer than I ever knew.” He clutched your hand again. “I found you beautiful as a mortal, endearing. But when you were turned, it amazed me that you somehow became ethereal. You were so angry that you smacked Tamlin with your nails. You made him bleed. When he snarled at you, I was ready to jump in. But Feyre beat me to it.” He smiled, a bit sadly. 

“When you went to the Rite, I knew you could do it. Yet, I felt fear that I haven’t felt in a long time. When I saw you, I almost lost it right then. Confessed everything.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don't think I can handle your rejection.” He whispered. 

“I will never reject you, Az.” You clutched your joined hands. “You are everything I've ever wanted. Ever needed. I would be honored if you’d accept me-“

“I already have.” He whispered looking at you. 

You put your hand against his cheek and pulled him to you. Your lips met and it was everything you’d ever wanted. All your fears and love were put into that kiss. 

You knew you both would be okay, as long as you had each other. 

And right as you thought that, the mating bond snapped. 

——————————

#acotar #acofas #acomaf #acowar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic

[jgracie]

I CAN FIX HIM (NO REALLY I CAN)

masterlist | rules

❝ Can you please writhe a one shot with Jason and daughter of Psyche reader based on the song “I can fix him(no really i can)” by Taylor?Like imagine some time later when Jason is finally free from his demigod duties and goes to college with his friends,here he meets reader.Since she is a daughter of Psyche (the goddess of the human soul)she understands him immediately and she help him understand himself,discovering what he likes and to heal from his past and of course they fall in love. ❞ — anon

in which they shook their heads saying “god help her,” when you tell ‘em he’s your man

pairing jason grace x psyche!reader

warnings feelings of self loathing, slight bullying

on the radio . . . i can fix him (no really i can) (taylor swift)

an they r in new rome uni in this !! i feel like jason is a tad ooc but also its 11:30pm as im posting this and im tired

Everything you heard about Jason Grace screamed ‘red flag’. Son of Jupiter, ex-praetor, raised by wolves then sent to camp at the mere age of three or four - what was there not to be afraid of? To add to that, the way he carried himself exuded power in a way that would make anyone cower in fear. His face was inscrutable, crystal blue eyes unreadable in the same way the storms his father made were

However, you weren’t anyone. Your mother was Psyche, goddess of the soul. And as a daughter of Psyche, you could see right through just about everyone, including Jason Grace. Whenever you tapped into his energy, you couldn’t help but feel he was the complete opposite of what he presented himself as. While Jason seemed content with solitude to everyone around him, you knew that deep down, he was just seriously misunderstood and in desperate need for some loving

You were right. Jason’s life had been hell, especially the past couple years. His memory had been taken away from him, making him lose ties with all his friends and a potential lover, Reyna. Then, he’d gotten a new girlfriend and new friends, only for his girlfriend to dump him and his friends to all be too busy to spend a single second with him. Still, Jason had persevered. He applied and got accepted to New Rome University, he attended all his lectures, he got perfect grades, he tried his best to socialise. 

The latter never worked out though. People either saw him as Jason the traitor, the guy who’d chosen to leave with the Greeks instead of fighting for his camp (Jason would stifle a laugh at the phrase ‘his camp’ - if this were really his camp, they wouldn’t have easily found a guy who’s the epitome of everything un-Roman to replace him. They weren’t any better), or as Jason the soldier, the man who’d toppled Kronos’ throne and won in a fight against the titan Krios, absolutely untouchable and worshipped in a way that would make his father seethe with jealousy

Eventually, he gave up. If that’s how they wanted him to be, so be it. He shut himself off from the world, focusing solely on his studies and his plans for shrines for every God and Goddess. Little did he know, a certain someone was formulating the perfect plan to become his friend

Your plan backfired. You’d spent weeks keeping note of all the classes you had with Jason, even occasionally following him to see where he’d go after class (his dorm, immediately), and yet you couldn’t seem to get a single conversation out of him. The closest you’d gotten was when you sat next to him in one of your lectures and dropped your pen - he’d simply handed it to you without a word. For the split-second your fingers brushed, you took on all his pain and felt it pull you apart. How could he cope with all of this baggage? 

Luckily for you, the fates work in mysterious ways that in this case, happened to be in your favour

“Oh, I’ll leave. Sorry.” Someone mumbled from behind you. You had been having a hard time sleeping as it was exam season, meaning everyone’s late night stress as they did last minute cram sessions piled onto you, so you decided to go to the one place you knew would be quiet. It was a small garden you’d discovered as a freshman and dubbed as ‘your spot’, and you’d often come when you were feeling extra overwhelmed

Turning your head, your eyes widened as you saw none other than Jason Grace, who was about to go back to his dorm

“No, wait! You can stay, I don’t mind,” this was a first for Jason. Usually, people would go the other way at the sight of him, not offer to let him sit with them. He felt a gut-wrenching, yearning feeling in his stomach, and you felt it too. Softly, you patted the spot on the bench next to you. It was quiet between you, but with that simple gesture, you had made an everlasting mark in Jason’s mind

After that night, instead of leaving his bag on the seat next to him, Jason would put it on the floor in hopes that you’d see the empty seat and choose to sit there. You, ever the empath, did. The more you sat with Jason, the more words were said between you. You started the conversations, of course, asking him about his day and telling him about whatever minor inconvenience you had that morning

“I ran out of toothpaste,” Jason had said to you one day as you took your laptop out of your bag. This was his first time initiating a conversation. He wasn't sure why he did it, and cringed internally the moment those words came out of his mouth - toothpaste, Jason, really? - but you’d smiled and asked if he wanted to come with you to the shops after class, since you also needed to stock up on some supplies

That was the day Jason’s walls began crumbling down. Suddenly, he seemed to loosen up. His posture slackened and he smiled more often, told more jokes and even engaged in your banter. People gave the two of you weird looks as you walked around New Rome in fits of laughter, but neither of you cared 

Well, not until one fateful day. Jason had been making his way to class with two coffees in hand, one for you and one for himself, when he’d overheard two people deep in conversation. He’d never been one to eavesdrop, but when he heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t help himself

“That poor girl, she has absolutely no idea what she’s getting herself into,” one of them said. The other hummed in agreement, pity laced in his voice 

“She thinks she’s doing a good thing, being friends with him and all, but he’s just going to break her heart like he did Reyna’s. Jason Grace is no good.”

He nearly dropped his coffees. Suddenly, all the confidence he’d built came crumbling down, being quickly replaced with those walls he knew all too well, the only things he could trust other than you. Since he loved you so dearly, this was for the best. You’d find some other guy to befriend eventually. If all of Camp Jupiter could replace him after years of service, who’s to say you couldn’t after a couple months of being friends?

Coincidentally, you happened to be looking for Jason when you saw him standing there, a blank look on his face - the same one people had warned you about in your first year at NRU. This time, however, they didn’t have a fighting chance in fooling you. Even without your powers from being Psyche’s daughter, you knew Jason was a sweet guy with the kindest heart

“Jason, are you alright?” You asked, reaching to place a tender hand on his shoulder. He pulled away and your face dropped as you tuned into his feelings and realised the old Jason was making a comeback. It’s not like he’d ever been gone, no one ever gets rid of lifelong trauma and horrible experiences that quickly, but Jason’s aura hadn’t felt that self-loathing in a very long time

Looking behind you, you saw a couple give you a pitying look and the pieces clicked immediately. Scowling at them, you took Jason by the arm and dragged him to that garden where you first spoke. The garden that was no longer just your spot

“Whatever they said, I don’t care,” you told him, “they’re wrong, Jason. You can’t listen to them. From the moment I met you I knew they were wrong. Don’t let them win.” His eyes stared into yours, completely emotionless. His guard was up, and you didn’t know why (slight btd ref!!). Didn’t he trust you? 

His voice monotone, Jason replied, “this isn’t just about them, Y/N. You have no idea what I’ve been through. You don’t deserve to have to deal with that, it could affect you too. You could be making so many friends right now and yet you haven’t, because you chose to stick with me.”

The tension rose between you and you knew there was only one thing you could do: succumb to the pull he had on you once and for all. Grabbing him by the collar, you pulled Jason closer to you and kissed him fiercely

When you pulled away, you took a second to take in Jason’s dishevelled look before replying, “I don’t care. I’ll choose to stick with you in every lifetime.”

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #jason grace drabble #percy jackson x reader #jason grace x psyche reader #daughter of psyche #psyche pjo #cynwrites

[jaylver]

MIDNIGHT RAIN (BACK TO YOU) — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love.

PAIRINGS: pro-footballer!jake x pro-footballer afab!reader

GENRE: childhood friends to lovers, college/professional sports au, romance, angst, pining, (slight) slow burn

WARNING(S): mentions of alcohol, drinking, parties, profanities, miscommunication, jake being a dense asshole at times, both are confused about their feelings, hee being the group therapist again, slight suggestiveness

WC: 18k

AUTHOR NOTES: for my people who don't know which football this is, it's kickball football aka soccer 🫶 this is dedicated to my jake (enha stans in general) enthusiasts who happens to love football just like me! like always, feedbacks are greatly, HUGELY appreciated! it'll genuinely motivate me <3 enjoy :)

part 3 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

© jaylver 2023 all rights reserved.

‘Y/N L/N TO JOIN FC BARCELONA FEMENI ON A FIVE YEAR DEAL. HERE WE GO.’

Sometimes, chasing your dreams meant leaving everything you loved behind and sacrificing a shit ton just to get to where you want to be. 

Football has always been your passion since you were barely walking or even talking. The icons you’ve watched on TV every weekend such as Maradona, Messi and Pele only gave you more drive to chase that dream of yours, even when relatives disregarded it as a so-called ‘impossible childish  dream’. Growing up, you joined your local youth team, where the boys and girls played together regardless, sharing the equal amount of joy and love for the sport.

Being barely five, you found yourself having a hard time mixing around with a bunch of kids that were one, two years older, feeling greatly out of place. Look, you were immensely grateful that you were regarded as a wonder kid that was significantly more talented than a whole load of your peers, but getting placed into a den full of kids taller and older than you? That was scary. 

That was until a boy approached you out of the blue, confidently reaching his hand out for introductions. He was the cutest boy you’ve ever laid your eyes on and you swore he was miles better than the boys at your kindergarten. The boy who had a smile that resembled the sun and energy that reflected a jumpy golden retriever puppy was a year older than you, and he introduced himself as Jake Sim or Sim Jaeyun, volunteering to be your partner in practice. Since then, you’ve only gotten closer to Jake, not knowing he was about to be a permanent figure in your life.

The moment you’ve reached seven, the team was splitted into girls and boys, which meant you were unable to play with Jake anymore, but that didn't stop you from meeting up and practising together.

"You've gotten taller," you remembered yourself telling him that one afternoon.

Jake looked up from the ball under his foot, sweaty strands of hair clinging onto his forehead. "Really?"

"No." 

Banter and jokes were frequent between you two, you loved pulling pranks on him and vice versa. It was common knowledge that you and Jake were inseparable leading up till highschool where everyone thought you and him were a couple, could you believe that? Okay, maybe living in the same neighbourhood, hanging out 24/7, constantly in the park playing football, having dinner almost every night together, studying in the same college and getting accepted into the national team at the same time were quite off putting for some people … right? You were in denial.

Safe to say you and Jake grew up to be great footballers and even better people. College was undeniably an obstacle for you, but as long as there was a football team, you were going to be fine, and fine you were, great even, when you joined the college football team while Jake joined the men’s team, representing your college to tournaments. 

You would go to his games and watch him score goals while he would do the same and cheer you on. Soon enough, at freshly eighteen and nineteen, both of you were approached by widely known clubs from all over Europe for your signatures on a professional contract. This was it, college could wait, this was what mattered, you didn’t work your ass off for nothing.

"Bayern contacted you? You're kidding!"

It was a Saturday night at your place, a basic tradition that you and Jake had every weekend if there weren't any training or matches going on. A random low budget film in the background, a bowl of popcorn in the middle, you and your best friend laid on the ground of your bedroom, sharing the latest insight of your lives.

"I can't imagine myself in Germany though," Jake pouted, pulling the blanket closer to his chin. "What about you? Anything new?"

"Not much. There's the Arsenal Women's team that contacted me, they're good too," you shrugged.

"But you love the sun! Heard England's a bit gloomy,"

"You're not wrong," you snorted, shaking your leg a little, and soon it fell into silence, a pensive one.

You glanced over at Jake, the sparks in his brown eyes never left, the quirk tugged at the edge of his lips remained, he never changed, not at all. "Jake?"

"Hm?" He hummed in response, his gaze trained at the TV screen, gradually getting engrossed.

"What if we end up on different sides of the world? You know, with our future clubs and all,"

“I don’t think anything would ever change between us no matter what happens,” his words were filled with absolute confidence, saying it as if he had a clear idea of what the future might look, whereas you were overwhelmed just from thinking about it. 

“Really?”

“You’ll still be my forever person, Y/N. Swear.”

You remembered those exact words from months ago, not expecting everything to turn sour almost immediately when you showed up on Jake’s doorstep right after you just signed your first contract. Endless thoughts swarmed your head, you prepared yourself for every reaction you could imagine from Jake. He had just returned from a training camp overseas, he must've been tired and this was bad timing, but you didn't have a choice either.

"Y/N?" The sun was already beginning to set by the time you reached his house by foot. The moment Jake opened the door, his face morphed into confusion as you tried your best to not break into cold sweat. "What're you doing here? I just got back and there's too much to unpack—the way there's college still is making me go nuts, I’m not going to be surviving in class—I promise I'll spill everything soon—"

"Jake," his name poured out of your lips naturally, except this time it had a dreadful undertone to it that you failed to mask. "I'm leaving,"

He blinked. One. Two. Two beats. "Leaving? To the camp you were saying? So soon—?"

"No, Jake, I–I'm leaving forever. Not forever and never returning kind of 'forever' but I'm moving away and I don't know when I'll be back. I know this is such a bad time to tell you since you just got back and I feel like such a jerk for dumping it all on you suddenly, but I wanted to break the news before you found it out from the tabloids—"

"Y/N, breathe," Jake reminded, instantly knowing your quirks which included this aka rambling whenever you got panicky, giving you a reassuring smile that felt like a ray of sunshine beaming on you. He was not making you feel better, instead he had you wishing you were staying instead. 

"I'm moving to Spain, Jake," you swallowed, just saying it was absolutely surreal, you couldn't grasp the concept of moving from your hometown, you were about to be on your own and you were scared, petrified. 

"You signed with Barcelona?" Jake gasped, a smile itching at the corner of his lips. 

"I did," you said quietly, nodding.

"That's amazing! You've been dreaming of this. It’s such a big deal! Looks like you’ll be playing pro-football instead of collegiate football now, should I get your signature first?" Jake reached out to squeeze your shoulder, attempting at a joke but he immediately caught onto the solemn look on your face, leaning in to stare at you closer. This shouldn't be making your heart beat. "You don't seem happy,"

"It's not that, it's just that I—"

I like you. 

"I will miss you … like crazy. I'm just not ready for change and I don't want to leave you back here," you stumbled on your words, making sure to not slip and ruin everything. Obviously saying 'I like you' and leaving afterwards was such a douche move, so what else was there to do but shutting up?

Jake let out a guttural sigh, and that alone definitely spoke more than words ever could. You furrowed your eyebrows, nervousness crept into your stomach. "Are you mad? Are you … angry?"

“Angry?” Jake repeated, disbelief evident in his voice, as if he couldn’t believe what you were accusing him of. His gaze softened, a glaze of affection taking over his brown irises. “How can I be mad at you for chasing your dreams? No way. I'm happy you're getting a shot at what you love,”

The boy that was standing in front of you was trying his best to remain optimistic, the smile on his face never faded, but you, on the other hand, were holding back tears. He was a sunshine, your sunshine, the one you soon had to let go. 

"Jake…" your voice was weak, you took a step closer, then another, until you closed the space between and engulfed him into your arms. His body tensed for a moment, taken off guard by your sudden action, but he eventually wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in. He felt like home, his familiar cologne was something you would never forget, the way his eyes crinkled whenever he smiled, his small giggles, the times you and he had walked around the tiny local football stadium, you couldn’t believe you were leaving all that behind.

"You're going to go far, Y/N, I've known that since the day we met," Jake whispered, his hand caressing the back of your head. 

"I'll miss you … so so much," you repeated those words again, squeezing him tighter. You never wanted to let him go, and unknowingly, he felt the same.

"I'll miss you too," he pressed a kiss against the side of your head, and it felt as if it was a last goodbye. 

You pulled away slowly, though reluctant to do so. His eyes locked with yours, longing and unwillingness hung in the air. “Will you come and send me off?” 

“That’s a no brainer,” he laughed quietly, nodding enthusiastically. 

“You better turn up.”

That was one of the last things you remembered saying to him before you left and everything turned into a blur. You were beginning to be a mess, the tears were eventually flowing out and it turned into big sobs. Thank the heavens no one was around when you walked home, or else they would be absolutely mortified to see a girl who was crying as if she was heartbroken. Well, quite? 

What you didn’t and would never know was the fact that after you’ve left and the door slammed shut, Jake broke down into tears. In his nineteen years of living and winning tournaments, he swore he only cried a few times, all that was countable by hand. But this time, he felt worse than before. 

Unbeknownst to you, you continued on your last few days thinking Jake was doing fine while you tried your best to seem sane. Saying your goodbyes to coaches from your college football team to your childhood club and even to your teammates, friends and relatives was hard, leaving your whole childhood here and moving away was too much of a big girl move, one that you weren’t fully prepared for. 

Bags and luggages were packed, you fitted half of your life into those cramped spaces and you were loading them into the counter, your passport and flight ticket in one hand, your phone in the other. You were feverishly scrolling through many unread messages, not caring about them, you were just looking for one. No matter how many times you’ve refreshed, Jake never left you any messages, nor was he present to send you off.

“Honey, you good?” your mother checked in on you, noticing the fall in your expression.

“Huh?” you glanced up from your phone, shutting it off and shoving it into your back pocket. “I’m okay,” 

“Is it Jake?”

At the mention of his name, your frown deepened and your mother sighed quietly, wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to the waiting area. “I’m sure he’ll turn up, you’re leaving and there’s no way he’s letting you leave without saying a goodbye,”

“You think so? The flight’s leaving in an one or two,”

“It’s you. Jake cares about you a lot, you know that?”

There was no doubt about that. You knew so. You merely hummed, a slight hope sparked in you, but you said nothing, deciding to plug your earphones in and wait patiently instead, occasionally checking your phone for any notifications from said man, but there was none.

Those short hours eventually slipped past your fingers. The times you’ve glanced around were uncountable, the man you longed for to appear was nowhere to be seen, to say to were deflated was a given. 

“Honey…” your mother rubbed your back gently and in comfort. You brushed off the feeling that was eating you and replaced your frown with your best smile, hoping to be able to reassure your mother that everything was fine, even if you felt the opposite of it.

“It’s okay, we should get going,” 

Once you’ve located your boarding gate, you and your mother hugged in goodbye, exchanging final words, her constant reminders rung in your ears as you tried to suppress the oncoming anxiety and sadness that was gradually swallowing you wholly. Just as you said your last goodbye, turning around and ready to walk through your gate, you heard footsteps running behind you. You assumed it was someone rushing for their flight, that was until somebody had shouted your name. 

“Y/N!”

Time stood still at that moment. The voice you wanted to hear for so long finally sounded in your ears. You were wondering if the tiredness had eventually gotten to you and you were hallucinating, but you weren't. He was real, right in front of you.

"Jake?" You whipped your head around, but before you could register anything else, Jake had thrown himself onto you, hands wrapped around your figure. His body crushed you and the warmth from him made you feel ten times better.

"I'm so sorry," he said profusely, rocking you side to side in his arms. "I was scared that I wouldn't be able to send you off. Something came up and I tried my best to rush here. Not to mention my phone fucking died on me too, I was panicking—"

"Jakey, all it matters is that you're here right now and nothing else," you reassured, relief filling you. “I’m just really happy to see you now,” you rubbed his back gently, hearing his ragged breathing by your ear.

Neither one of you wanted to let go, just letting time pass in each other’s arms and hoping that maybe all of this was a dream. Time was ticking agonisingly quick, you wished it was those moments where everything moved slow, but alas, you can’t have it entirely your way, can’t it? Soon, you had no choice but to pull away from Jake, praying he wasn’t an illusion tricking you.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” your voice came out weaker than expected and Jake seemed to notice it, his gaze softening significantly.

His callous hands cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing against the side of your eye softly. “Hey, you’re finally achieving your dreams. Think of that instead of me,”

You let out a choke that was meant to be a scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. “How could I possibly not think of you? You’re important to me, Jake,”

“And you’re important to me too, Y/N. I want to see you shine, and you will, I believe in you,” Jake squeezed your cheek slightly before removing his hand and reaching it to the back of his neck, unclasping the necklace he’s always worn. “I want you to have this,” he placed the necklace into your hands, the moon pendant shone bright under the bright lights.

“I can’t take this, you’ve always had it with you, it’s your lucky charm during matches—”

“I want to have it, genuinely,” Jake closed your hand around the chain, giving you one of his signature calming smiles. “Take care of it for me, the next time we meet I better see it around your neck okay?”

“I promise,”

“Don’t break it,” he laughed softly, his hand still holding onto yours.

You glanced at the time, cursing under your breath, realising this was it. This was the moment you were finally leaving to chase the dream you’ve always longed for. Jake probably understood that it was the time to let go, his gaze falling to the ground and he heaved a big breath. 

“It’s time for you to go, Y/N,”

“It is,” you held your breath, longing for Jake’s touch to never leave, but time had to be a sore, leaving you no more extra minutes to spend and you had to let go, feeling the warmth of his hand no longer on yours. “Goodbye, Jake.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

That was where everything melted into a blur, the last waves of goodbye faint in your mind as you entered the plane, squeezing along the isles to locate your seat. You prepared for a long flight, closing your eyes and picturing the things that were awaiting you, but the thought of him eventually slipped in, haunting you.

Everything was about to change, and you didn’t know if it was for the best or for the worst.

RISING TO FAME WASN'T ON YOUR CHECKLIST.

Your first season was great, but the second and third were better, stellar even. This caught many eyes of football fans and Barcelona fans loved you with their hearts. Awards were won, achievements were made, but promises were broken.

It has been almost three years since that day in the airport. Crazy, huh? At the start, you had a hard time coping in a foreign country with zero knowledge of the local culture and the language. Not to mention, going to classes in your new college was challenging, you couldn’t even ask for directions. It was a blessing you opted not to share a dorm there and live on your own in the city instead, who knows what sabotages the language barrier and differences were going to do to you?

Thankfully, your teammates were kind enough to let you room with them and drive you to campus. One of them was able to communicate with you, but the other only spoke Spanish. Though the messy language barrier created confusions and misunderstandings, you somehow managed to not get evicted in the end and your Spanish was progressing positively. 

Jake was a recurring appearance in your life. He often facetimes you, making sure to tell you his day from start to bottom, sharing about the parties he went to, his new hockey friends, the fresh discovery on the crazy world of college ice hockey, it was refreshing to hear him babble about everything from football to his college life after a long day, rolling around in bed giggling like a high school girl all over again. But that was all during what people called the ‘honeymoon era’, not knowing the eventual changes that you soon had to face.

Each year passed by in a blur. In the first, you constantly talked and kept in contact, but during the second year when Jake signed with Bayern Munich from the German league, his schedule was too packed and yours were the same, resulting in less communication. Occasional ‘congrats’ and ‘you did amazing’ were exchanged, but that was all. On your twenty-first birthday, you spent it with your friends and teammates, having a great time, but you were too caught up wishing Jake would text you a ‘happy birthday’ instead.

Drifting from someone was too easy, but letting them go entirely was hard. You were twenty one, winning awards and on the top of the league, but you still missed your day one, and you wondered if he felt the same or if it was just you. Yet, you couldn't be mad at him, unable to hold a grudge despite the fact that he hadn't tried enough, because you did the same.

“Can’t believe the season ended just like that,” Alexia, your captain and roommate slipped next to you, casually scrolling on her phone. 

“It’s already been a few months, Alexia, it’s time for us to rest,” you smiled, understanding her love for playing especially since she had just recovered from a months-long injury and was craving for more play time. “There’s still a month left until the next season,”

“You’re right,” she hummed, her eyebrows furrowing as she glanced closer at her phone. “Barca has been investing a lot on new players lately,”

“There’s a number of new additions to the men's team,” you noted, scrolling on Twitter for any fresh news as well. “It’s valid since some of them left,”

“There’s a new addition today too, look it up. It’s an asian player,” 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. It’s not new that asian players were underrepresented in European football, the only one who was currently widely known was Son Heung Min, so hearing this was promising. Filled with curiosity, you typed into the search bar, wondering who this mystery player was. 

No way.

What you didn’t expect was the picture of your childhood best friend, Jake Sim, popping up, his name littered all over the timeline, a load of news articles written about his latest transfer to Spain, specifically Barcelona, not Madrid. The other thing that totally set you off was a specific line he said in an interview about his transfer to Barcelona, ‘I’m ready for Spain and I know someone well who’s there right now, I hope to be able to see them.’ Unprovoked?

“Transferring from Bayern,” Alexia continued, cooing under her breath. “He’ll fit in well with Lewandowski in no time,” she glanced up from your phone, seeing your stunned expression and your rigid body. “Y/N?” 

“Y–Yeah?” you stuttered, heartbeat rising gradually. You couldn’t believe this. After months of not talking, not even a slight update, he decided to move to the city you lived in without any notice. Worse of all, you couldn’t even avoid him. “Yes—no, not doing well actually,”

“Why?”

“Remember that friend who I kinda drifted off with?”

“The one who’s also a footballer—?” Alexia gasped upon realisation, eyes widened and her hands on her mouth. “You’re kidding. That’s him? The guy you called almost every night?”

“Bingo,” you clicked your tongue, crossing your arms and wishing how you could just scream into a pillow now. 

The front door unlocked, twisted open and revealed Natalia, your other roommate, who happened to be holding bags of grocery in her hands. “What did I miss?” She said slowly, noticing the frazzled expressions of you and Alexia.

“The guy Y/N talks to every night is joining the men's team,”

“Jake Sim? He's the one who you grew up with?” Natalia dropped the bags, her keys and everything she had on hand, scooting over to join you on the couch. 

“Yeah … him,”

“Tell me more.”

The new season for the women’s league was starting in a month and you certainly did a great job in avoiding Jake. You would applaud yourself at one point.

Barcelona might’ve been a big city, but with almost every Barcelona player staying in the same area, you would occasionally run into them, which meant the chances of seeing Jake was high. Not to mention, some of your training sessions at the training grounds would be either before or after the men’s team, and you made obvious efforts to run away quickly. You weren’t scared of Jake, no, never, but were you ready to face him after years of not seeing each other? Not really …

Through the help of Twitter, you found out that he had already completed his medicals, the announcement was out and he had given an interview. With the first game for the men's team coming up soon, the official account posted a training video and your eyes could only linger on him. His hair was freshly dyed blond and he seemed healthier, happier. 

Everything was well and at peace until the news for you broke out. With the women's league starting later than the men's, you were apparently invited to be a special broadcaster for the men’s first league game, live, and by the pitch, meaning you were going to interview the players, Jake Sim included. For all the effort you’ve given to avoid Jake, the world seemed to have other plans for you. It was as if the universe was rooting for you to meet him again.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Natalia was seated on your bed as Alexia rummaged through your closet, picking out any presenter's appropriate outfit, dresses, shirts, skirts and pants all splayed out on your bed and floor.

“Fuck no,” you groaned, picking up a shirt that fell to ground. “I know I shouldn’t be avoiding him, we’ve been friends since we were kids, but the changes between us is drastic,”

“Drastic?” Alexia hummed, shoving back some pieces that weren’t in her criteria. 

“After he transferred to Bayern, we talked less. He was the same, but something between us wasn’t. He said I changed,” you sighed, still remembering the conversation clearly. 

“What did he even mean by that?” Natalia scoffed.

“No idea. I don’t think I’ve changed,” 

“Does he think the 'fame' or something changed you in some ways?” Alexia's eyes sparked at the sight of a long black dress, a sly smile on her face.

“No clue, it's not like I can just hop into his mind,” you groaned, biting your lips nervously. “You’ve got the one already?”

“Duh,” Alexia said proudly, handing you a black midi silk dress that you haven't worn in a long time.

“Really?” You raised a questioning eyebrow at her and she shrugged.

“Hey, it's professional and eye-catching, totally appropriate,” Natalia chimed in, nudging you slightly.

“I'm sure someone will appreciate it.” Alexia winked and you were about to throw a pillow at her, but due to the limited time you have before kickoff, you might have to delay that.

You arrived early to the stadium, greeting the staff and hoping you made a good impression. Football was much easier than broadcasting on live television, even if it meant you were just a special presenter, you were still anxious. Fans were already filing in and you were done setting up, the pregame show had started and it was your cue to join. 

“Here we have Y/N from the women’s team to join us this evening,” your co-presenter welcomed you. “How are you doing?”

“Great, thank you,” you smiled at the latter.

“Today marks the first league game of the season at home, fans are excited, what are your score predictions?”

You gave it a thought for a moment, choosing your words right in case of offending any Barcelona fans lurking on Twitter. “It’s hard to say, but I’m confident in Barca, and I’m sure the team will want to win the game, so I’ll say 1-0,”

“I’ll say the same too,” your co-presenter laughed, nodding in agreement. “As for the latest transfers from this summer window, there’s been a number but the one that caught my eye is the young prospect, Jake Sim, I’m excited to see him playing today,”

At the mention of his name, something inside you churned. A mix of butterflies and overwhelming pining washed over you, as much as you’ve avoided him, you equally missed his presence. “He’s a great player, I’m sure about that,”

“We’ll look forward to his performance later on. The game shall be starting after a short break. Until then.” 

The prematch segment was done, but you weren’t entirely free, having to fulfil your position for the post match interview at the end. It wasn’t entirely bad, you were actually anticipating to watch Jake on the pitch in person after years. The clips on YouTube weren't enough, but you definitely noticed his vast growth and improvement.

The match started off slow, both team's defence were too strong and none were able to go past one another's territory. It was getting closer to halftime with no goals scored, your attention eventually shifted to the bench, your eyes immediately spotting a certain blond. Despite him being almost half a football pitch away from you, your eyes weren't fooling you that it was in fact Jake, and he was breathtaking, and real.

Before you gave him the chance to realise you're staring, you made sure to turn away. Maybe you were the problem, you were scared to face him, and you didn't know why, probably the awkwardness was the main reason. Did he feel the same?

After giving a short interview and accessing the first half, the second half started with a couple players getting substituted off. Jake was among the few players being substituted on, making his first match debut for the club. Your heart thumped, this was deja vu to the time you watched him make his debut for his first club. It was similar, and you were there too.

Watching him play live was different compared to the videos you've watched, he was phenomenal. No wonder many European clubs were on his tail trying to get him to sign for them. His time in Germany definitely made him grow a lot as a player.

"He's good," your co-presented mused, his eyes trained on the game that was 2-0 up, Barcelona leading without any doubt.

"Which?"

"The new transfer. Number five," he nodded towards Jake, his jersey number shining brightly under the sun as he dribbled past defenders, kicking the ball and assisting another goal.

"Wow! Another assist," your co-presenter jumped out his seat cheering, and you smiled, sure that he was about to receive 'man of the match' today. "He's a future star,"

"He's already a star."

The match ended with a win, starting the new season in a pop and letting fans travel home with a happy heart. You and your co-presenter went through the highlights of the match, soon it was time for the interview.

It wasn't pressuring as you knew most of the players, laughing and cracking jokes in between some questions, congratulating on the win and what not. Until it was Jake's turn, he was approaching slowly as people around him were throwing praises and clapping him on the back, his laughter was no stranger to you, you didn’t need a second thought to know that it was him at once, then he stumbled into your sight, those familiar brown eyes met yours, unblinking as if he was figuring out who you were.

"Jake," 

Now that he was closer, you were able to see him clearly. He never changed, he still radiates the same sunshine puppy energy that you've missed. The pictures you’ve seen online didn’t do him any justice either, he was insanely pretty, jaw dropping and mind blowing, the blond hair was a great addition.

"Hi," his voice came out in a whisper, as if he couldn't believe you were right in front of him at that moment. "Y/N," your name left his lips with a spark of fascination, until now you never forgot his voice and the way he said your name.

"Great game today for your debut," you tried shaking off the tension in the air, remaining as professional as you could be, but it was faltering.

"Thank you. I'm glad I didn't mess up," he bowed his head with a small smile. 

"Congrats on getting 'Man of the Match', your assists were top," 

"You think so?"

"Of course I do," you nodded instantly. "I'm sure the fans thought so too,"

"I'm glad," he hummed, and it reminded you of those times he would seek your reassurance in practice or after games. Guess old habits are hard to die.

"Thanks for joining us for the interview, Jake. Congrats once again." 

You ended the segment with a few more additions before wrapping up and calling it a day officially. As you walked down the tunnel, you thought of your short-lived interaction with Jake, wondering if this was the only moment you'd get with him before you two continue on straying apart again, but it seemed life had other plans.

You let out a yelp as you turned a corner, feeling someone tug at your wrist, pulling you into their chest and you took a solid ten seconds to realise it was Jake, staring up at him with your hands on his chest, to which you quickly removed along with your body in general.

"What are you doing?" You hissed out, glancing around in case of any camera recording. 

"I just wanted to say hi," Jake shrugged and you gave him an unamused stare. "Maybe more than a 'hi', I wanted to see you, talk to you," he paused, his eyes flickering. "You look great," 

"Huh?"

Jake coughed, his gaze sweeping over your body to your face. "You look amazing, seriously,"

A small laugh of amusement escaped your lips. "Thank you, you look … great as well. I love what you did to your hair,"

His hands flew to his blond strands, smiling sweetly. "I'm glad you like it, it's a bold change,"

"It is," you nodded, a sudden silence settled between you and Jake, the awkwardness you feared was somehow present.

"I miss you," those three words poured out of Jake's lips without any warning.

You could feel your heart twist and jump, his words settled heavily in your mind. "I miss you too, Jake," 

"I'm sorry," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry for the times where I … I let go too easily. It wasn't easy being in a new country and I guess I let it get to my head, and I ended up throwing you aside too much. I should've been there for your 21st just as you did for mine,"

You didn't expect a direct confrontation today, maybe a small reconciliation but that was all, not a full blown apology. 

"It's alright," closure was what you needed … right? "I didn't try to fix the gap between us then too, so … it wasn't entirely you," your hands were unconsciously fidgeting. "Now that you're here, maybe we can patch things up a little, what do you say?"

"I'd love to," Jake smiled, a wave of relief seemed to have washed over you two, the awkwardness and frigidity faded away and it was you and him again, just like always. "I haven't toured Barcelona at all ever since I got here. Would you have the honour to be my tour guide?"

"I'm not the best at it but I'll try," you laughed. "My Spanish is still in the works,"

"I need a head start too," Jake noted thoughtfully. "I got to change and freshen up. I'm sure you're tired too and you're dying to get home so I won't bother you further,"

"It's fine, I'll always have time for you," you reassured, unbeknownst to you his eyes lighting up at your words. "I'll give you a call or a text. Maybe we can arrange that tour soon,"

"Sweet. I'll wait for it,"

"You better."

jakey: free tomorrow?

you: i am :) 

jakey: great! let’s have that tour tomorrow?

you: i’m down

“GOING OUT?”

You turned around, face-to-face with Alexia who had her typical questioning stare whenever something wasn’t right. It was early, quite unusual for you since you were always the late riser out of all three, but you had plans … with somebody.

You nodded sheepishly. 

“With who?”

“Jake,”

“Oh?” Alexia grinned, gradually getting invested. “He finally had the balls to ask you out?”

“It’s not like that,” you waved her off. “I’m just bringing him around the city. He texted me yesterday,”

“Is he taking you back to his after?”

“Alexia!” you gasped, a hand on your chest for more dramatics. 

“Kidding,” she chuckled, and finished fixing up her breakfast. “Be careful and if anything happens, God forbid, call me. If he’s a jerk, call me and I’ll pick you up,”

“I will … thank you,” you smiled warmly.

“No need to be, Nat and I will be here for you always.”

Jake was waiting right below your apartment complex, you were secretly jumping inside, taking bigger steps to get closer quickly. You didn’t realise how much you’ve missed him until now. He probably heard your oncoming footsteps, turned around and broke into his signature sweet smile. Jake surely knew how to swoon one over with his fashion, didn’t he? He was dressed in a casual loose white button up paired with straight jeans, making sure to have the first few buttons undone for some extra effect.

“Morning,” he pulled you into a short hug, his cologne entered your senses, the same cologne he had been wearing since forever. His gaze averted south, a familiar necklace was hanging around your neck, the moon pendant shining brightly under the sun. "You kept that?"

"Huh?" You followed his stare, glancing down to where your necklace sat, the one Jake had given you before your departure. "What? Of course I do," your hand absentmindedly reached for it. "Your good luck charm gives me good luck too,"

A smile etched onto Jake's face, a pleasant look painted his expressions, seemingly content as he switched the topic and continued on. 

“Had breakfast yet?” you shook your head. “Perfect. I’ve been dying to try this one spot nearby, let’s go,”

“We’re walking there?”

“Duh, walking is a must for tourist experience,” 

“I’m lazy,” you whined, huffing.

“You’re a professional athlete, a little walking won’t hurt,”

“I’m sure me beating you up will,” 

Jake let out an airy laugh, his hand on your back pushing you gently and you had no choice but to comply. It was a quiet walk over to the cafe he recommended, maybe it was still early, but you remained quiet and basked in the summer sun, your shoulders occasionally bumping along the way.

"So …" you started, sitting down on an empty spot at a table, doing your best at striking up a conversation. "Bayern, huh? I thought you couldn't picture yourself in Germany,"

Jake shrugged, pursing his lips. "Had no other options, they were one of the big clubs and I just agreed," he shook his head, smiling a little. "People change, thoughts change, you know?"

"Right," you nodded.

"Only thing I hated about it there is how far away I was from you," he added, his gaze never leaving yours, but he eventually changed the topic, diffusing the tension in between. “Going to classes in a German college is hard though,”

“You’re still studying engineering?” you weren’t surprised at all, aside from Jake’s footballing abilities, he was a smart guy, one who loved science and was a little nerdy. 

“I am,” he nodded with a small smile. “I think I’m going to the same college as you, right?”

“No way? I think you are,” you were a skilled hider at this point, not even bumping into him on campus was either great luck or just ill fate. “It’s hard holding up here, I might've been here a few years but everything’s still new. How are you even holding up with school here?”

Jake shrugged plainly, a nonchalant look on his face. “Had ups and downs but I don’t think I’ll give up easily. You seem to be doing fine so I think I’ll be equally fine here too … hopefully,”

“Nothing’s going to be too big of a challenge for a smart guy like you,” you teased, Jake rolling his eyes in response. 

"Anyway, what's Barcelona like for you? I've seen the things you've done so far and honestly, I'm not surprised at how good you are," Jake took a sip out of his drink. "I mean, you always are, always have been,"

You bite back the surprise, especially the words you wanted to say. "Thank you," you said slowly, "I saw your break out at Bayern too, and your first game here, you've improved a lot, you're too good,"

"Learn from the best," he nodded at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You're still such a jokester,” 

“Of course I am,” Jake raised his eyebrows, biting his lips as he pondered whether to ask the question lingering in his mind. Fuck it. “Any admirers here in Barcelona?”

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows, surprised at his up-frontness. Oh, now he’s suddenly interested in this part of your life? “I don't, unless you count the training ground as one,”

He laughed, shoulders visibly relaxing gradually. It was your turn to strike. “What about you? I definitely saw videos of you partying somewhere on Twitter before,” you didn’t mean it to sound a little jealousy laced when you said it, but the teeniest tiny bit of it was genuine, yet you wouldn’t admit it to yourself. 

“Seriously? Twitter? I was there hanging out with my friends, no funny business with girls by the way,” he shrugged and narrowed his gaze at your obvious teasing grin. “Currently single and available,”

“Really? The same man who claimed he has charms out of the world is still single all these years?”

“Hey, I could be waiting for someone else, or at least work up the courage to even bag them,” he defended, 

“Who?” you leaned in close, anticipating for some juicy intel, a sip of hot tea, anything. 

Jake smirked, his typical playful one that you were no stranger to. He wasn’t going to spill, was he? “They know … I hope,”

His gaze burned into yours, the vague answer only spurred you on further. Could it be a random girl on campus? A girl he met while partying? Could it be … you? Wake up, gosh, there’s no way your childhood best friend liked you too, right? You have yet to tell anyone or even admit it out loud that you somewhat liked Jake, the feelings you had from years ago, back before you left, continued burning internally, getting fainter and fainter each passing year, but it reignited gradually now that he was here. 

Soon, the morning melted into reminiscing of the past and sharing different stories that you both missed of each other. Walking around under the clear sky, you brought him around the city, to the famous landmarks, markets, and attractions. It was a blast, especially after years of not seeing one another face to face.

The sun eventually set and night came, the city coming to life at once. You and Jake somehow wound up at a beachside restaurant, enjoying a fancy meal before running towards the sandy beach, playing around just like the times you were kids, until you got too worn out and laid among the sands.

"I missed this," you panted, head turning over to see a heaving Jake who could only hum out in response.

"Us, running around, it was a long time since we've done this together," you waited for a beat, then continued. "I missed us, Jake,"

Jake looked over, locking eyes with you. "I'm here now, aren't I?" He chuckled, his hands reaching over to grasp yours. 

You were glad he was back in your life again, but it was evident that something had changed, and it wasn't going to be the same as always.

YOU FOUND YOURSELF BACK AT THE STADIUM ON ONE OF THE men's league games, personally invited by Jake as he somehow managed to convince you to come.

Ever since that day out in the city, you felt something spark between you and him, he was texting you frequently, exchanging stories and what not. You were glad that your friendship was rekindling, but the watered down feelings from over the years seemed to return, growing stronger gradually, which meant you were inevitably troubled.

"Y/N!" you didn't expect Jake to go out of his way before the game to show up at the lounge area, greeting you enthusiastically.

"Jake," you exchanged a hug and some 'how are you's. "Nervous?"

"You always know I am. Just a little less with you here, just like the old days,"

"You're going to do good," you assured.

"Not going to let you down," he saluted you, before catching the clock ticking and the game nearing. With a haste goodbye, he left and you made your way towards the stands. 

The game started off strongly, and Jake definitely stuck to his words, making his first start for the team and already performing astoundingly. His footwork, the way he passed through defenders, you were amazed every time you watched him play.

Barcelona had the advantage by leading first, but as the game passed, the opponent team somehow gained the momentum and scored a goal before half time, which deflated the home fans. 

Once the second half started, Barcelona was looking for a breakthrough, anything, seemingly desperate and increasingly frustrated. That was until a perfect pass to Jake where magic actually happened. A swift turn and a sharp kick were enough for Jake to score a beautiful goal into the net and the stadium erupted into cheers.

Your gaze was trained on Jake, standing up now as you joined supporters in cheering along. But what shocked you was what he did next. He was running the lengths of the field as usual footballers do in celebration, but his hands formed the initial of your name, showing the letter obviously and it was no doubt that he was dedicating this to you. At the same time, his eyes were searching for somebody, you. 

Once you met his gaze from above, he broke into a wide smile, blowing you a kiss before letting his teammates engulf him into hugs.

Everything melted into a blur. Did Jake Sim just dedicated his first goal and a celebration to you? He did, in front of thousands.

The game ended with a win. Jake, who had scored the winner, was getting cheers from fans all over. You were quick to exit the stands, making your way to the tunnel until you noticed Jake's approaching figure.

"Y/N!"

Just as always, he happily called your name, a smile so wide it had your knees weak. He was about to give you a hug before you backed away.

"You're sweaty,"

He pouted, resembling a sad puppy. "Don't be mean,"

"I'm not," you exclaimed, punching his shoulder lightheartedly. "You were so great, congrats on your first goal,"

"Thank you," he bowed his head pleasantly. "You're always my good luck charm, huh? Come to my games often,"

"As if," you huffed, but not completely opposed to it. Then, you got to the real deal. "Hey, what was that celebration for anyway?"

Jake simply shrugged, a knowing smirk on his face that told you he, in fact, meant something behind the celebration.

"What does that mean?" 

"It's for you to figure out," he said vaguely, something sparked in his gaze. "Anyway, did you know this guy on campus is throwing a party? Wanna come?"

"You're going?" You did hear of this party from one of your school mates, apparently that guy was a king at throwing parties and nobody misses it. 

"Yeah, one of my friends invited me so I wondered if you're coming too. Are you?"

"I think so?" You said with uncertainty.

"I can pick you up if you want to?" 

"I'd love that," 

"Sweet," Jake nodded, clapping his hand. "Is this a date—"

"Would you count this as a date—"

Both of you froze, realising you were sharing the same thoughts, and most likely the same feelings. A sense of pining filled the air between you two that you were oblivious to. You and Jake bursted out laughing at the silly occurrence.

"Maybe," you were the first to answer the question, a little shy.

"I would love to bring you out on a proper date though,"

"What about … some time after the party?" 

"I'll be glad to do so," Jake scratched the back of his neck, a red tinge coloured the tip of his ears. "So—uhm—this party date—more than friends or…?"

"Woah, maybe that's a big jump there," you didn't expect him to suddenly be so bold. "How about we take this one step at a time? Test the waters and what not,"

"Good idea," he smiled before hearing his teammates calling for him from afar. "Shit, I think I need to go freshen up,"

"It's alright, you've had a long day anyway, you should get some rest,"

"I will, I'll take a long, hot shower while I'm at it,"

"You should," you giggled, a small grin tugged at your lips at how endearing he was. "I'll go now, text me and we'll discuss the plans for the party, okay? You were amazing, Jake, I love seeing you play," you leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek, rendering him speechless.

"Bye," you said innocently, waving at him as you left and all he did was stare back with a dazed look while waving.

You chuckled a little. Despite the slight glitch in the relationship, somehow you managed to get back to him. All it took for the watered down feelings was a little push from him and yourself.

"YOU'RE ON TIME,"

Evening soon arrived and it was finally time for the party. You were dressed casually and you didn't regret any part of it. Jake had opened the door for you, quirking his eyebrow at your words as he leaned against his car.

"I'm always on time,"

"Sure," you said sarcastically as you entered the car, adjusting around in your seat.

The moment Jake got into the car and revved it to a start, he switched the radio on, and a specific song started playing. Your favourite song.

"This song?" You exclaimed, a small joy erupted in you.

"It's your favourite," Jake hummed, smiling slightly.

"You remembered?"

“How could I not?”

Those simple words somehow had a big effect on you, after all those years he still remembered the small things about you, not many were able to do that. 

The rest of the journey there was just casual chatter, flowing naturally like how it usually did when you were younger. You talked about your favourite things while Jake just listened, giving you his full attention and you were completely unaware of him smiling at your passionate rants.

Upon arriving at some house in a rich neighbourhood, you were already fascinated by the big yard space where a couple people were smoking. You heard the music blasting from inside the house and shared a look with Jake that totally conveyed 'let's get drunk'. He opened the door for you and the led lights blinded your sight momentarily.

Jake was immediately bombarded by a bunch of people, his reputation had skyrocketed overtime with his performance at the club, making him a well known person at the campus by now. Well, wasn't this awkward? You were squeezed to a side, unable to reach your date and standing alone, so all you could do was nod towards the drinks to let him know you would be there.

Filling your cup with some random alcoholic concoction sadly wasn't what you anticipated for tonight. As time passed, Jake was nowhere to be seen, having to send him million texts but getting no response from him. You managed to locate your friends and joined them for the rest of the night.

"I thought you came here with Jake?" One of your friends, Carla, asked, passing you some snacks.

"I did," you shoved the snack into your mouth rather aggressively. "He disappeared on me,"

"That's such a dick move!" She made a sour face, and honestly, you had to agree with her.

You soon excused yourself from your friends, exploring around the house to find a bathroom that wasn't locked or occupied, which was a big challenge. Going up and down stairs, in and out of rooms had you desperate, so once you saw a bathroom door left ajar, you did the stupidest thing by opening it.

Stupid it was, foolish you were.

The sight before you probably had you wanting to vomit out your breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was Jake, but he wasn't alone, he was with another girl, pressed against each other, making out. At least they weren't doing more that would possibly traumatise you further … right?

"Y/N?"

You snapped out of your dazed state once you heard your name. Suddenly your need to use the bathroom had disappeared and you just wanted to leave. 

"I—uh—ignore me!"

You turned around and bolted faster than your normal running speed in training. As you walked, you tried collecting yourself emotionally and mentally. You shouldn't be feeling this, whatever this sickening and punching feeling was, but you were. 

How could this turn sour so fast?

He was just talking about trying to move your relationship from just friends to more than that, but instead, he's here making out with some girl in a bathroom? The audacity.

"Y/N! Where are you going?"

Unbeknownst to you, he was actually following you this whole time. Almost like a switch, your confused emotions turned into frustration.

"Jake, stop,"

He reeked of alcohol, words slurring and eyes dazed, confused. Your eyes met his gaze, sighing deeply and wishing for the night to be over already.

"What—"

"I'm leaving, okay? I didn't come here for you to ditch me and make out with some chick you just met, alright?"

"I'm sorry," Jake mumbled, biting his lips. "I'll take you home,"

"You're drunk, Jake," you said, crossing your arms. "I'll drive,"

The tension in the car was heavily off. You were driving back to his apartment, having no choice but to make yourself a guest there overnight since it was too late into the night for any cabs to drive you back. Just great.

"I didn't mean to kiss her. I was just drunk," he suddenly spoke from the backseat, his words heavy and slurred.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I thought you should know. I hate misunderstandings,"

"We're not dating anyway, Jake, you don't need to explain it to me," your words came out harsher than expected, but wasn't reality harsh anyway?

"I am serious about you, Y/N,"

You blinked, muttering a few curses under your breath. Why was he so confusing? "You're drunk," you repeated, your grip on the steering wheel only tightened. "Think about this tomorrow instead, okay?"

Jake mumbled something incoherent before drifting off to sleep, leaving you to your own thoughts that continuously pestered you. Feelings were confusing, especially when it comes to your childhood best friend.

Getting him up to his apartment with the help of the security guard was strenuous work. He owed you more than an apology at this rate. Dumping him into bed and helping him out of his shoes almost had your back cracked in half, eventually you ended up falling into the couch and fell asleep at once. The physical work and emotional confusion were tiring.

Morning came sooner than expected, twisting and turning around, not wanting to get up, but realisation soon hit when you came to your senses. It wasn't the couch you're sleeping on anymore, it was a bed, Jake's bed.

Your eyes snapped open, feeling the soft sheets around you, but no one was there. Where was he?

You carefully stepped out of bed, wandered out into his living room that you were previously sleeping in and saw his figure on the couch, watching some television program. Messy bed hair and a coffee in hand, Jake somehow seemed magically cured from the curse of being hungover.

"You're awake?"

"I should be more surprised that you're awake instead," you sat down next to him, making sure to leave a gap in between.

"There's coffee, help yourself," he nodded over at the other cup of coffee he bought. "What happened last night?"

You glanced over at him, furrowed eyebrows mirroring the frustration in his eyes. "You don't remember?"

"No," he shook his head, rubbing his temples. "I got whisked away by this group of guys, I drank and drank, then I remembered some girl?"

"Oh," 

"What does that look on your face mean?"

"Jake, you made out with that girl,"

"What—"

"And I walked in on you two,"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Jake rubbed his face callously, groaning deeply, head falling back onto the headrest. "I'm so sorry you had to see that,"

"It's fine,"

"It isn't fine. I kissed someone in front of you when I literally told you I wanted to bring you out on a date before," he buried his face into his hands. "I'm so stupid for this,"

"Hey, it's really fine, genuinely" you grabbed his hands, pulling them away. "I'm not mad—" admittedly, you were slightly hurt, "—honestly, it's not like we're actually together, right? We're not dating anyway, you're free to be with whoever you want. I have no control over you," you tried forcing out a small laugh to lessen the tension, but you only felt like dying instead.

"Right," Jake said, mirroring your laughter stiffly, his gaze falling to the ground. "We're not dating anyway."

"YOU WHAT?"

Training has been torturous. The new season was starting in the next few days, which meant the intensity only got higher, at the same time, your stress was equally skyrocketing. It was a few days since the incident with Jake and unfortunately, you haven’t spoken since. Anxiety gnawed at you, but neither you nor him dared to even make the first move of approaching one another.

Training sessions weren't what it was without some gossip and storytelling either, and you certainly didn't leave out what happened with Jake. 

"You slept over at his place after you saw him kiss another girl?" Alexia gasped, smacking your arm.

"That's hella scandalous," Natalia hissed as she did her stretching routine. 

"I said ‘we're not dating anyway’, could you believe that?" You huffed, unable to focus on your own routine. 

"Wow," both of your teammates said in unison, and that only made you shrink further into your small hole of wallow.

"Was it too far?"

"I admit I do feel bad for the man having to hear that," Alexia shrugged.

"But he did do what he did," Natalia continued, a slight frown etched on her face. 

“We haven’t talked since,” you stopped stretching, sitting with a saddened expression. “Do you think he hates me?”

“Hate you?” Alexia exclaimed incredulously, staring at you as if you’ve done some massive crime. “Y/N, that man likes you! Neither you nor him can see that, you guys are dumbasses,”

“He likes me?”

“Who dedicates their first goal to someone they hate? He likes you, period. There’s no way he dedicated a goal and a celebration meaninglessly,”

“Well…maybe he did it as an express of gratitude, you know, as friends,”

“God, you’re so blind.”

The short span of time in between the days from the first league game passed by quickly, fast forwarding to you sitting in the changing rooms, anxiously waiting for the game to start while you checked your phone for notifications. A fraction of you hoped for Jake to send a surprise message, at least giving some support for your first game of the season, but it just never came.

Disappointed you were indeed, but you weren’t letting it get to you and affect your performance, which only meant keeping on a brave face for the rest of the day. As you walked onto the pitch, your eyes automatically scanned the stands, spotting some of your friends from campus among the crowd. You waved at them, your anxiety lessening but somehow a specific someone stayed lingering in the back of your mind.

The whistle blew and off you went chasing after the ball for hopes of a goal. Everything was flowing smoothly, leading early in the first half and you were able to cool some steam off momentarily, glancing around once more. That’s when you noticed a figure in the front of the stands moving towards a seat. That person was oddly familiar, having to squint your eyes and run a little closer, you realised it was Jake.

You know those cliche moments described in romantic films where time stops and your breath stops? You didn’t believe those descriptions initially, until you actually experienced it firsthand. Right at that moment. 

You didn’t have many chances of focusing on him, constantly needing to remind yourself that you were in the middle of a game and you weren’t letting a man deter you from the victory in front of you. He resembled a bright sun that stood out among the crowd, shining brightly but instead of looking away, you couldn’t bear but to stare. 

The game ended in Barcelona’s favour, resulting in a great and high atmosphere, fans cheering loudly and everyone celebrating the first win of the season. All of your teammates made sure to go around the pitch to interact with fans and thank them, just post game basics. You did the same, except you couldn’t resist walking up to Jake’s side of the stand, spotting him at once and he happened to see your figure approaching, waving at you with a small smile.

“Hey!” you shouted, almost breathlessly, a wide smile unknowing creeping onto your face. “You came,”

His eyes sparked once it landed on you. “Surprise?”

“You didn’t tell me you’re coming today,”

Jake leaned on the barriers separating you two, his playful grin reciprocating your smile. “It’s a surprise for a reason,”

“Well, I am definitely surprised,”

Jake let out a quiet laugh, biting on his bottom lip, seemingly contemplating his next words carefully. “You played great today, congrats on the win,”

“Thank you,”

“You’ve always been amazing, Y/N, seeing you play for the first time in Barcelona made me so proud,”

Your heart swelled, hearing his words only made you go increasingly crazy. He can’t just show up, say the most simple sentences and make your feelings haywired! Then it hit you, realisation.

“I wouldn’t be here without you,”

“Likewise,”

“I’m really grateful for you, Y/N, genuinely,”

“Oh, Jake,” you reached over the barrier, tip toeing slightly and pulled the man before you into a hug, feeling him press a kiss on the side of your head. Were you really only friends with him?

Realisation. A full, concrete, affirmative realisation. 

You like him. Sim Jae Yun.

jakey: up for a party?

you: you’re looking to get drunk again?

jakey: no! >:( my friend’s from our old uni are coming over to visit and celebrate one of their birthdays! i’m pretty sure you’ve met them before

you: the hockey players? and yunjin? them right?

jakey: yup

you: count me in

SOMEHOW YOU’VE MANAGED YOURSELF AN INVITE AS JAKE'S PLUS ONE.

You’ve met Jake’s friends before back in your hometown. He had a variety of friends from the football team who happened to be jocks, and then there’s the hockey friends. Jake was closer to the hockey bunch, and you didn’t blame him for that, especially after having your own experiences with his then team. 

So, here you were, in Jake’s car, heading towards the club specially booked by Jake’s rich friend, Jay. Why a club? Apparently they liked partying. The hockey players were truly built differently. 

“You’re saying he booked the expensive room?” you blinked in shock, mouth hanging open. “Private rooms?”

“Yeah, he said he loves Barcelona and the clubs here, so he’s going all out,” Jake said nonchalantly, as if this was a daily occurrence that wasn’t surprising in any way.

“Can you give me his numb—”

“Absolutely not.”

The club was just like any other big club in the city. Flashing lights, pretty people and over the top atmosphere, it was such a great vibe. You wished you had more chances of partying but frankly, none of your friends were big party goers, you included.

Jake made sure to have you in front of him, his hand on your back guiding you slowly through the crowd towards the private room. He had given you a brief introduction of his friends to you previously during the drive here. You knew how his friends looked, being able to match faces to their names, but there was nothing you knew beyond that. 

Entering a room filled with people you're not close with makes your skin crawl, but Jake's friends proved otherwise, welcoming you at first glance. The hockey guys, Jay, Heeseung and Sunghoon along with Yunjin were there with their own plus ones. Every one of them were split into their own small groups, but you stuck to Jake, speaking to Yunjin and her date.

Jake was focused on whatever topic Yunjin's date was spewing, so Yunjin had you all to herself. "You and Jake?" She whispered quietly, so that it was only between you and her. Her eyebrows wavered, a knowing grin plastered on.

You simply shrugged, not trying to be lowkey but in actuality, you really didn't know. "Nothing's official,"

"Yet?"

"I don't know?"

"He hasn't asked you out on a date?" Yunjin gasped, eyes widened. 

"Nope, unless you count some random frat party where he left me hanging,"

"Oh God," she heaved a deep breath. "He's got a lot to do, but other than that, I'm pretty sure it's already settled,"

Your head tilted at her choice of words. "What do you mean settled?"

"He likes you, you like him! That's already settled,"

"What?"

"Y/N! Can't you tell how head over heels that boy is? You know he wouldn't shut up about you all these years, right? Even when you two were apart,"

"When we were apart?"

Yunjin chuckled, unable to hold back her smile of endearment. "He always told us about you, how he wants us to meet you and all that. When he went to Germany, we kept in contact, even visited him. I remembered clearly how he said he missed you, he wouldn't shut up about you, I'm serious,"

All those times you thought he had forgotten about you or not even given you a single thought, it was actually the opposite. As much as you have kept him in your thoughts, he has equally been doing the same.

"Give it a thought, Y/N, give him a thought," Yunjin patted your shoulder, giving you a smile of assurance.

Everyone eventually left the room in search of the bar and dance floor, you and Jake following behind. Along the way, he continued keeping his hand around you, not letting you go.

"You okay?" He passed you your drink, his eyes searching for yours in the dim lights.

"I'm alright, don't worry," you gave his arm a small squeeze of reassurance.

Most of the guys and Yunjin had already taken off into the dancefloor with their partners, leaving you and Jake by the bar alone. Yunjin's words from earlier still rang freshly in your mind, it was all you could think of whenever you stole glances of Jake.

"What are you thinking about?" He seemed to have caught on your strange behaviour and you resembled a deer caught in headlights at the sudden confrontation.

"Nothing," you shook your head, lying through your teeth. You were thinking about something, someone actually. Him.

"Really?"

"Really," you enunciated, thinking of a way to switch the topics. "So, why aren't you out there dancing?"

"I wanted to be here with you," 

That got you there. His words never failed to have you kicking your feet and giggling. 

"You could be out there—I don't know—dancing with someone else," 

"I'd choose you over that 'someone else'," he calmly took a sip out of his drink, his gaze never leaving yours. "In a heartbeat,"

You swore you could feel yourself flushing red, heat creeping up your neck to your face, the room suddenly seemed like it was spinning. "You can't just say things like that,"

Jake grinned, a playful look displayed on that charming face of his. "What? It's the truth!"

“You’re annoying” you jokingly punched his shoulder, downing your drink almost at once, it surely did help calm your nerves, but not your racing heart.

Your conversation with Jake soon dissolved when the others came back from the dance floor, all sweaty and craving for drinks, huddled around the bar ordering one by one before returning back to the room for a karaoke session. The overwhelming atmosphere had you excusing yourself to the restrooms, and you ended up giving a pep talk into the mirror as you fixed your makeup. 

Jake liked you? The fact itself was hard to grasp. You couldn’t even swallow and accept that you had actual feelings for him, your childhood best friend, the one you experienced many embarrassing, happy and sad moments with, the same guy who believed in you more than anyone else. He wasn’t just a friend to you anymore, he was someone you wished for more with.  

Exiting the restroom with a heavy heart and question marks filled mind, you just needed a drink to pour your feelings into. You were making your way back to the room with a drink in hand now that everyone was done dancing, but before you could turn a corner, you heard voices and immediately stopped in your tracks. Hushed whispers that were clear and audible even with the music in the background filled the empty corridor. It didn’t take long to piece the voices of Jake and Heeseung. 

“So…what’s going on between you and Y/N?”

Your eyebrows quirked up at the mention of your name. Could this be it? Was Jake going to spill an answer you’ve been dying for? Let’s make this clear, you didn’t like overhearing other people’s business, but your current situation was a little hard for you to just walk boldly into the corridor, not when your curiosity got the best of you. 

“What do you mean?”

“What? You and Y/N, man, come on. There’s no way you don’t have feelings for her. You’ve been together since the time we met years back, and even further before we met, and you’ve never stopped talking about her, ever,”

“I–I don’t know, it’s complicated. We’re just friends,”

“Jake, are you serious?”

“I’ve never felt this way before, Hee,” Jake’s voice wavered, seemingly distressed. “I can’t have a relationship now, I’m just starting out and I don’t want to get distracted,”

“Jake, are you listening to yourself? Since when was Y/N a distraction to you? And you didn’t seem to care whenever you went out partying in Germany,”

“Look, Hee, maybe I just want to focus on my career for now,”

“Is that why you barely made the effort to talk to Y/N back in Germany?” Heeseung hissed, frustration evident in his tone. “Your lame excuses, were you just scared or in denial of your feelings?”

“Stop. I don't know if I like her like that. Fuck, I–I don't know, okay?”

“Y/N?” you whipped your head around, meeting the brown irises of Park Sunghoon, who was just returning from the restrooms as well. Perfect timing indeed. You were so busted.

Internally, you were panicking like crazy, heart beating in anxiety and your blood pumping insanely. You could feel three pairs of eyes staring at you, each one held different emotions. Heeseung and Jake stood frozen in their spots, their faces matching each other’s surprise, whereas Sunghoon remained confused.

You met Jake’s gaze, one filled with utmost guilt and sadness, but yours could only reflect anger and bewilderment. You didn’t bother waiting another second before storming away, only feeling suffocated by each of Jake’s words that stung just like a fresh wound. This was another night ruined by the man you liked, and you’re about to go home with a new broken heart. But you were the idiot here after all, willingly letting him break your heart in two, and once it healed, it’d beat for him again, because you would always go back to him. 

The moment you reached the outside of the club, you realised how fucked you were without a ride, having no choice but to wake your roommate to pick you up. You wondered how you landed yourself in this position, standing stranded in front of a club, blinking away the oncoming tears and just needing a hug of comfort.

“Y/N!”

Jake’s voice reached your ears, and soon, you were face to face with him. Wow, speaking of deja vu, this only reminded you of the unfortunate night you had with him, both ending sour. 

“I have nothing to say to you, Jake,”

“Hear me out—”

“Fuck off,”

“Please,”

You scoffed in disbelief. “You're really confusing, you know? One second you say some shit that gets my hopes up and my heart racing, then the next second you decide to crush everything! Make up your mind. I'm not someone for you to play around,”

“I’m not trying to play you!”

“Oh right? You said you wanted to start slow and bring me out on a proper date, then you're out here declaring you don't like me. Well, asshole, I like you!"

"What?"

You cursed at yourself and your bluntness, blinking harshly as you swallowed the lump building in your throat. "Forget it, forget whatever I said,"

“I do have feelings for you too, you know that!”

"No, no, no, you don't get to suddenly decide that, Jake, not after what you just said," you backed away from him, shaking your head incredulously. Hell, you were confused about your feelings, but Jake was miles worse. “You need to sort yourself out first before telling me you like me or not, you can’t just say that and then say you don’t know behind my back,”

“I know, God, I’m sorry,” he was a mess, a beautiful mess in creation. 

Silence befall on you both, the tension was killing you and you hated it. You didn’t want him to be a stranger, but you can’t bear being around him right now. Your eyes could only reflect disappointment and sadness as your gaze swept his face.

“You once said I changed, but you know what, Jake? Maybe it's you who's changed,” you spat every word out angrily, a mix of emotions overflowing. “I feel dumb for liking you,”

“Really? Do you regret it?” somehow, the two of you were equally mad now, the sadness turned into unresolved anger, showing the ugly side that neither you nor him have seen of each other before.

You swallowed, knowing damn well the answer that was going to leave your lips. “The worst part is that I don’t,”

Jake’s lips quivered, his eyes searching for anything but yours, unable to meet your eyes or even directly face you. “It has always been you. You’ve always been my number one,”

His words stung hard, harder than the times you’ve scraped your knees against hard surfaces, it hurt you, just as much as it did to him just from uttering those sentences. If this was what love was supposed to be like, you want nothing about it. 

“Go home, Jake. I'll see you soon.”

CRYING ON THE WAY HOME IN ALEXIA'S CAR WASN'T A PERFECT end to the supposed enjoyable night you wished to have. It took five different rom coms, one tub of ice cream and lots of girls talk to get you out of your slump. 

During the first few days since the incident, you did receive text messages from Jake, apologetic ones that were almost written like essays. But you couldn't bring a single ounce of you to reply back to him, leaving him on ‘delivered’ and switching your phone off.

Just when you thought the storm had calmed, you were proven wrong once more. 

"You've got to see this,"

On a morning not far from a prestigious award ceremony you were bound to attend in France, a controversy broke out, one that involved you in it, specifically, you and Jake.

'BARCELONA'S YOUNG STARS CAUGHT IN A HEATED FIGHT OUTSIDE OF NIGHTCLUB IN THE CITY'

You've got to be kidding.

The comments were the first thing you avoided, scrolling past to see blurred pictures taken of your altercation with Jake. Talk about double embarrassment. 

"No way they got this on camera," Natalia gasped, but Alexia snatched the phone from her grasp and switched it off.

"It'll pass, don't worry, Y/N."

Eventually, the day of the awards ceremony had arrived, you and your fellow nominees from Barcelona, Jake included, travelled to France together on a private plane. 

It was awkward to say the least. Avoiding one another, not making eye contact or even acknowledging each other's presence. The others were making sure to seem unfazed by this despite reading the news themselves, but what could they do? All they wanted was calm and serenity.

You were partnered up with a player from the men's team, Alejandro, who will be your date for the night. You didn't mind having him as your date, just wishing to get the whole thing done as soon as you could.

"You're not planning to talk it out with him?" Alexia said as she helped fix your makeup, dresses laid on the bed and heels strewn all over the floor. 

"What do I even say? 'Oh, I like you, yeah I said that already. But you don't like me—wait—you don't know!' Boohoo,"

"Y/N," 

You let out a deep sigh, getting up once Alexia finished her last touch ups. "Look, his confusion isn't something for me to deal with, you know. Either he makes up his mind and is ready for me, or he'll just never get me, that's it."

On the other side of the hotel room and specifically the floor below yours, presented the men's rooms. Jake happened to be getting ready along with his teammate and roommate, Mateo.

They were on the conversation of their assigned dates when Mateo's mind suddenly struck a thought. He didn't know if it was the right time to ask, but his mouth couldn't help slipping.

“Jake,”

“Yeah?”

“Are you going to apologise?”

Mateo didn't even need to mention any names and Jake already knew what he meant. 

“Why?”

“I just—I don't know—I don't like how you guys are fighting,”

“You're sweet, Mat, but she's probably too angry to even see me now anyway, I fucked up big time,”

“But do you want to apologise?”

“Of course I do! That's a no brainer. I just don't wish to fuck it up again,”

“You won't,” Mateo patted Jake’s shoulder sympathetically, both plopping down on the edge of the bed. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Well—”

“Not in a platonic way, but in a romantic way,”

“I do,” almost instantly, those words left his lips without any hesitation. 

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“Myself,” he groaned, rubbing the side of his face agonisingly. “I’m scared, Mat, I’m scared of ruining what we have,”

“Jake, you shouldn’t let your fears overcome you, or stop you from professing your love either,” Mateo sighed, wrapping his arm around the latter’s shoulder. “Y/N likes you, dumbass, there’s nothing to ruin. Instead, she’s probably thinking you hate her for not giving her a clear green light,”

“I know,”

“Talk to her. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow, but soon. The longer you drag this on, it would just create a distance.”

The evening eventually faded into bright lights and speeches, you and the others sitting among the crowd of distinguished footballers from different parts of the world. You couldn’t lie, it was hard keeping your eyes away from Jake when he was looking absolutely gorgeous. Hair slicked back, dressed in a sleek black suit paired with an expensive tie, he had your knees weak when you were supposed to be mad.

His gaze on you definitely didn’t go unnoticed either, taking the sight of you in and your attire for the night, a certain unspoken longing for one another hung in the air. 

It was towards the end of the night when you excused yourself to the restrooms, your usual escape plan. Exiting the theatre hall and getting to wander around the exquisite area gave you a slight peace of mind, it wasn’t everyday you got the chance to be in France anyway. But disaster just had to strike and ruin your brief tranquillity.

As you descended the stairs, you heard a snap, almost missing your balance, and you knew at once, your heel had taken an unfortunate turn of life. Glancing down at your heel, it indeed had snapped and was broken, and you had the misfortune of not having any super glue on you.

You tried taking a step, stupid mistake. The imbalance of your heels made you stumble, and just when you were ready to meet your fate of face planting into the expensive marble floors, a hand gripped your forearm. 

“Hey, you okay?”

It didn’t take much for you to realise that voice belonged to Jake, who was also holding onto your arm. You coughed, regaining your balance and swiftly yanked your arm from his hold. Jake took a step back, slipping his hands into his pockets. 

“I’m fine,” you said hastily, your head snapping up to meet his gaze. “Were you following me?”

“No!” he exclaimed, his hand travelling to the back of his neck, looking away from you. He was lying, you could see right through him. “Well—I—we saw you rushing out, so we just wanted to check up on you,”

“Right,” you nodded, biting your lips softly as you held in a small laugh at his blatant lie. “Tell the others I’m alright, I just wanted a stroll, but my heel broke,”

“Oh,” Jake’s gaze averted to the sight of your depressing heels. “I’ll let your manager know, I’m pretty sure they can get something else for you,”

“I’d really appreciate that,” 

“Okay,” Jake smiled slightly, nodding also, his body turning to leave but halted midway. “I never got to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight,”

You practically stilled momentarily, letting his words work its magic on you. In that moment, it felt as if the world had stopped and everyone had disappeared, and it was just you two, alone and vulnerable. Soon, you snapped back to reality, swallowing thickly. 

“Thank you, you look great too,”

He said nothing more, merely giving you one last friendly smile before turning away and continuing his way back to the theatre, leaving you to long for him, sadness welling up your heart and your eyes turned heavy. You wished he would run back to you now, telling you how sorry he was, whatever, you just needed him. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Cruel, hard reality reminded you that maybe this was probably one sided after all. 

You were over exhausted by the time you returned back to the hotel, the group was now scattered and everyone was either on their own or lingering somewhere else at the afterparty. At that moment, the pop of notification on your phone caught your attention, it was a message from Natalia. 

nat: meet me at my room! i have something for you ;)

Suspicions crept up internally, that winking emoji practically told you this wasn’t what it seemed. But you went either way, still dressed in your gown and sporting a pair of comfortable slippers, trudging along the halls of the hotel towards Natalia’s room. 

Three knocks was all it took for you to realise the room was unlocked, pushing it open and revealing a clean and spotless room, which was so Natalia. As for a sign of any human being in the room, there was actually none. Initially, you thought of something bad happening, lowkey panicked and rang up Natalia, only to realise a particular thing. Natalia was at the after party.

“Hello?”

You whipped your head towards the source of the voice, freezing at once when you saw who it was. The universe must be setting you up for further embarrassment at this point. Jake was standing in front of you, confused and lost.

“Where’s Natalia?”

“I would want to ask the same question too,” you glanced around the room helplessly. “She isn’t here. Did she text you?”

“She did,”

“Jake,” you started, walking to the door, a sinking feeling inside of you as you hoped whatever you were currently thinking wasn’t actually true. “Did you shut the door?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you realise we’re stuck in here now? We don’t have the keycard,”

The confusion on Jake’s face morphed into shock and horror, approaching the door and giving it a yank, but it was obviously not working. “This is ridiculous,” he groaned under his breath.

“Forget it, it’s already done,” you kicked your slippers off and made yourself comfortable on the bed, your back connecting to the soft covers and almost drifting off to sleep. 

Jake could only nod solemnly, sitting down on the other bed wordlessly. It didn’t take long for the uncomfortable silence to settle, both of you wanting to talk but having zero courage to even do so. You were hopeless and he was just the same.

"We should talk,"

You glanced over at his figure, slowly sitting up, a wary look painted your expressions. "About?"

"About us,"

You gulped, hating the thought of confrontations, but what you hated more was being a stranger with Jake. It pained you having to ignore him or pretend his existence wasn't there.

“What’s there to us? You broke my heart, Jake, and it hurts like a bitch. I heard you clearly in the club that night, and I don’t think I can forget it easily,” you sucked a breath in, being on the edge of combustion. “You know what? If the possibility of us being together is a distraction for you, then fine, forget I ever said I like you, then we can go on like nothing—”

“I don’t want to forget it,” he murmured, eyes flickering. “I don’t want to forget you or your words,”

A pause. 

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I shouldn't have said what I said. I shouldn't have treated you like that, I was a massive asshole,"

"You were,"

"I'm really sorry, for hurting you and causing you so much pain," Jake was fidgeting with his fingers, averting his gaze once in a while. “What I said in the club was stupid, it was immature. I wasn’t clear with my feelings then and I could only figure shit out after, I'm just scared of ruining what we have. I don't want to lose you if anything goes south, I don't want to lose you as a friend and a lover,”

"Jake," you began, eyebrows furrowed as your bottled up confusion and frustration slowly crept up. "You won't, your fears are only driving us apart, can't you see that? I–I just don't get you. Do you even like me? Or do you just say you do but you actually don't?"

"I do like you," his tone came out harsh, as though he had been holding it in forever and only getting the bottled up feelings out now.

"Then show me," your eyes pleading and his apologetic. "Show me that you want me, that you actually do. No second guessing or anything. I need you to need me back,"

“I do need you,” he said quietly under his breath, the tension in the room was absolutely cut throat. “I’ll do anything to gain your trust back,” he got up from his spot and walked over to your side, sitting next to you, barely any space between you and him as your shoulders grazed against each other. “I could give you the world if I had to,”

You turned your head and met Jake’s eyes at once, the wordless exchange through one another’s gazes was enough to express the amount of longing and pining harboured. You could feel his fingertips softly brushed against yours, sending slight electric shock into your system. 

“I like you. I like you. I like you,” those three words were poured out like a mantra, causing you to still momentarily, a frown etched onto your scrunched expressions. “I’ve liked you since forever, but I never came to terms with it. At one point, I wanted to tell you … but you moved away. I thought if I could do it all again, I would go back to you and tell you how I feel,”

“Those years when you were gone, I kept thinking about you, I wanted to hold you when I'm not supposed to, I wanted you close—I want you,"

Your breath hitched. 

"I couldn’t get you out of my head, you were all I could ever think of, everywhere I went, anyone I met, I saw a part of you in them, you were occupying my head, I can’t stop, and it’s because of how in love I am with you,”

Love. Not like, but love.

“Then don’t stop,” you said breathlessly, chest heaving heavily. “Don’t stop thinking about me, don’t stop letting me take over your head, don’t stop being in love me, ‘cause I never did. I’ve always loved you,”

Longing and yearning clung onto you and Jake desperately. The space between you two was getting smaller, the need for one another pulling one another together. The outpour of love confessions had you and him both speechless for a while, taking some time to process it all entirely. You loved him, he loved you.

Jake shook his head, swallowing thickly. “I can’t believe it took me all these years to realise my true feelings, I’m sorry for realising it too late,”

“You’re never too late,”

Before any of you could get further progress, the door burst open and revealed a drunken Natalia being supported by her roommate. You and Jake instinctively scooted apart from each other, pretending nothing was happening as you faced a confused roommate and a giggly Natalia.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Natalia sent us text messages saying she wanted to meet us here, but she wasn’t and we got locked in,”

Her roommate, Chelsea, nodded, dumping Natalia onto the other bed. “She probably drunk texted you, sorry about that. Well, I need to take care of her so—”

“Oh,” you took the hint, standing up. “We’ll leave you to it. Goodnight,”

Jake followed you out awkwardly after bidding Chelsea goodbye. Once you were out of the room, you turned around and noticed Jake looking like a helpless puppy. “You’re going back?”

“Yeah, I need to freshen up,” he chuckled, smoothing the fronts of his suit.

“Me too,” gosh, the stiffness and awkward tension was eating you up. “Bye,”

“I’m serious about gaining your apology back, you know?”

You couldn’t even escape when those words suddenly poured out from Jake, catching you immensely off guard and having you rooted to your spot. “I’ll prove it to you, and I'll make it up to you,” he continued, backing away gradually with a knowing grin. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

You were incredibly unprepared for what he has up his sleeves.

“I KNOW YOU WERE THE ONE PLOTTING IT,”

Fun didn’t last long after arriving back from France as the team was put to immediate training sessions. A special training session this time at the club’s stadium. You and Jake didn’t speak much after that night in the hotel, especially when you went separate ways with individual training schedules now. But that wasn’t all. Your suspicions with Natalia remained and even though you’ve pestered her ages since then, she has never spilled anything, until this fateful session.

Her widened eyes stared at you, coughing uncomfortably as she masked obliviousness, but you could see through her instantly.

“Natalia,” you narrowed your gaze at the latter, who only shied away. 

“I had that idea in mind…then I got drunk, and the alcohol controlled me to do stupid stuff like that,”

You rolled your eyes at her, passing the ball to her. “I’m not mad, by the way,”

“You’re not?”

“If I was, I would’ve been mad during the first few days, not now,”

“True,” Natalia shrugged, but you saw the playful spark in her gaze. “What did you do? Chelsea told me you two were … close,”

“We talked it out, nothing else,”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing,” you repeated,  your voice slightly higher than before. 

The session was halted momentarily for some rest. Some were laying on the grassy surface, others scattered in groups either chatting or complaining about the hot weather. You were on the topic of dinner with your two roommates when the speakers suddenly made a shrill noise, causing everyone to flinch. 

“What’s up with the audio?”

A cough was heard through the speakers in the next second, the sound reverberated through the stadium. Everyone including you were looking around in confusion, those on the ground resting had gotten to their feet. All of a sudden, a familiar song started to play, ‘Can’t Take My Eyes off You’, the same song you always played whenever Jake came over when you were kids.  

“You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. You'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…” The Australian accent was heavy and recognisable, which meant it could only be that certain someone running through your mind.

“Jake?” you muttered under your breath in disbelief, seeing his figure appearing amongst the stands, a microphone in hand. A soft smile unknowingly crept onto your face, laughing quietly at his ridiculous efforts.

It was just the same as the day he dedicated the goal to you. In a crowd full of people, his focus was trained only on you and nobody else, it was all you. His gaze never left your figure as the iconic instrumental part of the song played, and it reminded you of the days you sang this song in karaoke with Jake, screaming the lyrics and humming the instrumentals. 

“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright. I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night. I love you, baby, trust in me when I say—oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray,” he sang as he skipped down the steps of the stadium, getting closer to the front. Your teammates were passing you cheeky grins, some were even shoving you just like teenagers teasing their friends after seeing their crushes in the hallway. You yourself couldn’t even hold back a giddy look.

“Oh, pretty baby, now that I've found you, stay. And let me love you, baby, let me love you,” he extended his arm towards you, as if speaking these words just for you to hear. Before you could even accept his hand, your coach came right in time to stare at Jake, clearly unamused.

“Well, Mr Sim, what a performance that was,” Jonatan greeted Jake with a brief handshake. “Apologies for bursting your bubble but the training session is starting soon,”

Jake nodded, a pleased smile paraded on that face filled with confidence. “Got it. Sorry for interrupting. I’ll be leaving now then,” he peeked over your coach’s shoulder, waved and passed you one of his cheesy smiles before slipping away. When he was out of sight, Jonatan turned back and clapped his hands. 

“Back to business!” he shouted, followed by loud unsatisfied grunts. Just as he was passing by, he made sure to whisper quietly and closely to you. “What a man you’ve got there, L/N.”

That totally had you blushing red.

It didn’t take long for training to end. You were about to text Jake about his whole stunt but then you realised you didn’t need to do so, because he was standing directly in front of you at the carpark.

“Need a ride?” You didn’t drive, usually carpooling with the girls back to the apartment, but this might have to be an exception. 

Jake was leaning against his car, a grin stretched wide. You approached him with a curious gaze, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. “You’re still here?”

He nodded. “I thought I’ll just drop you home since I’m here anyway,”

“I’ll take your offer up,” 

Jake even made the effort to open the car door open for you, putting his hand above your head as you entered. The little things did matter to you. But the real question you’ve been waiting for an answer remained, and you were going to shoot.

“What was all that for?”

“What?” he sputtered distractedly as the car started, soon exiting the car park. “The performance, you mean?” a devious smirk appeared on that scheming face of his. “Did you like it?” 

“Well, yeah—but that’s so not the point,”

“That is definitely the point,”

“It isn’t!” you laughed, throwing your head back slightly, making contact with the headrest. “Seriously, Sim, why did you go all out for that? You could’ve been in trouble,”

“Remember the movie you loved when we were younger?”

“Which one? There’s too many,”

“That 2000s movie, something ten things something hate?”

“‘10 Things I Hate About You’!” 

“Yeah, that. The one you forced me to watch for millions of times,” 

“Did not,”

“You did,” Jake rolled his eyes, a small smile remained. “I remembered how much you loved that thing where he sang the song to her, and it happened to be our song, so I thought it would be a great way to apologise,”

“That’s sweet, Jake, really,”

“That’s not all,” He took a brief glance at you, letting the anticipation of his words sink in.“I’d like to take you out for dinner. I want to make it up to you,”

“You don’t have to,” your heart melted. 

“I want to, seriously,” he said as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his face beaming. “You told me to prove myself to you, and that’s what I’m doing. I want to take you out on dates and show you how much I mean every way I feel. I’ll wait for an answer for as long as I can even if it’s a lifetime,”

“Jake,” you called out his name quietly, placing a hand on his forearm. He carefully took hold of your hand, slithering his palm against yours and entangled your fingers together. “You want to take me out on dates?”

“I’m taking it slow. I don’t want to fuck up again,” 

“You won’t, swear,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. 

“I’ll pick you up tonight? Go rest and have a shower first, you stink,”

“Hey! I did shower before this,”

“You mean you lightly rinsed yourself?”

“Guilty.”

It has been ages since you’ve felt nervous before something. Being nervous for matches was nonexistent at this point, but going on your first date in years was stressing you out. Not to mention, it was a date with Jake. You were feverishly placing clothes and dresses on the front of your body as you looked into the mirror, taking hundreds of tries before settling for a new unworn black dress. 

You were glad to be just on time when you heard the sound of your notification, indicating Jake’s arrival below your apartment complex. The jitters were undeniable once you’ve reached the ground floor and walked towards the area he was at. The clicks of your heels against the hard floor gave your presence away and had Jake turning around, his eyes landing directly on you. His strong gaze took your figure in, his lips lazily pulled a playful smirk. 

“Wow,” 

“‘Wow’?” you chuckled, greeting him with a brief hug. He was dressed impressively well, nothing too much but not too minimal either. 

“You are ‘wow’,” he raised his eyebrows. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

A tinge of pink painted both of your cheeks lightly. Oh, you were so definitely and undeniably blushing from the effect of his words again. Damn him.

“Save the flirting for later, Sim,”

“So, you’re saying I can flirt however much I want with you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go now or else we’ll miss reservations,” Jake loved your promptness, always and forever putting up with it, unable to resist a smile when he opened the car door for you, feeling the way his heart twists lovingly. 

“Wait,” before he started the car, he reached to the backseat, reaching for something you couldn’t make out. That was until he pulled out a big bouquet of mixed flowers, one of every flower you loved. He remembered them all. “I got you flowers, and—” another bag of something, “—your favourite food and snacks. Some are from Germany, our hometown and even here,”

“No way, you got food from home?” you accepted his gifts way too enthusiastically. Your expressions lighting up immediately, legs shaking in anticipation as you went through the variety of snacks in the bag. All while it happened, Jake just remained silent, quietly watching you smile widely and eyes glinting brightly.

You looked up after a few moments, meeting his affectionate stare. “You’re staring!”

He shrugged, presenting you with a lopsided smile. “I love seeing you happy, sweets.”

You swore you almost fell onto the road when you saw how luxurious the place Jake had taken you to. The interior was exquisite and it had a nice ambience to it. A part of you was glad you had decided to dress up a little more than usual considering he had taken you to fine dining. 

Throughout the entire journey there, you were sharing random stories with each other, bringing up old memories and even going on the topic of Jake’s dog. It all flowed naturally, just as how it always did, and that was something nobody else could take away from neither you nor Jake.

“Hi, ready to order?” the waitress soon came by, but you noticed something odd to her vibe. There it was, her lingering gaze on Jake. She likes him!

Never once had she spared you a single glance when you said your order, focusing only on Jake. Annoyance and irk weren’t enough to amount to the feelings you had in the moment, your mood sinking lower as you witnessed her attempting to flirt with him. 

On the other hand, Jake was smart enough to catch onto the hint this time, actively avoiding her advances and rejecting her approaches, but it seemed she was the one who couldn’t take a hint. Just as you were ready to hand the menu over, little miss man stealer here batted her eyelashes and asked for Jake’s number. Hello? You were here too!

“I’m on a date here, can’t you see that?” he snapped, eventually reaching his own limits as well. “You’re disrespecting my girl and me,”

My girl, my girl, my girl.

That was spinning in your head even after Jake finished his small complaint, huffing and puffing in agitation. He was ready to face an unhappy face but it was actually quite the opposite. You were literally smiling giddily. 

“What are you so happy for?” he couldn’t help laughing a little after seeing your smile, but you waved it off, shaking your head.

“It’s nothing, just thought of something,”

Jake nodded slowly, reaching over for your hand. “Sorry about earlier. I requested for a different waiter,”

“It’s fine, Jake, she was being totally unprofessional anyway,” 

“Tell me about it, gosh,” he groaned, intertwining your hand with his, the spark in his eyes shining brighter. “I’m glad you’re here with me tonight,”

“Me too,”

“Thanks for giving me a chance again,”

“Always.”

You’d go back to him any day, any time, and frankly, he would do just the same.

EVER SINCE THAT NIGHT WITH JAKE, THINGS HAVE BEEN TAKING QUICK ADVANCEMENTS.

He brought you out on countless dates, whether it was casual ones or planned, he made the utmost effort to perfect them all, giving you great princess treatment everytime. Your football matches were something he hated missing out on, almost having perfect attendance and frequently being in the stands cheering you on. All in all, he has been nothing but a sweetheart, healing your heart gradually as time passed.

Nothing felt forced whenever you were with him, every moment together made you the happiest, and you couldn’t stop smiling around him and his silly jokes. You liked him, wait, no. You loved him. But there was an ongoing problem, you weren’t even official yet.

Waiting for Jake to ‘pop the question’ was something you didn’t want to think or stress about, but it was a passing thought once in a while. You appreciated the fact that he had indeed taken it slow and took baby steps during the past months of going on dates, but you were getting impatient. You knew you were ready.

Maybe things were meant to be unexpected, and that was the beauty of it.

Jake picking you up from training sessions became a frequent routine by now, proceeding to his house for some movies and hot dinner. This time around, he had other plans in mind that made you scratch your head curiously. 

“You want me to stay over?”

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, totally laid back as if this wasn't something new. However, it was actually super new and foreign. You've been to his place lots and uncountable times, but staying over? That's new. “What’s wrong?”

"Nothing," you quickly assured. "I never stayed over, that's all,"

"You stayed over all the time when we're kids!"

"That's different. It's different now,"

Something glinted in those brown irises of his, realising what your words meant. "You're right. It is different."

The long training had you falling asleep right away when you got back, giving Jake the chance to pull another scheme right out of his sleeve. Unbeknownst to you, he had been planning this all along, finding a right time to execute it. He was going to pop the question, the boyfriend girlfriend question that you and him had been waiting for too long.

Jake was nervous. He wasn't even asking you to marry him, but it felt almost like it from the way he was pacing around in the other room while you were sound asleep peacefully. Calling take out and preparing a movie were the usual things you'd do whenever you were over at his, so he tried maintaining his cool and kept collected as he ran through the normal routine.

Peace wasn't an option when you woke up soon after, hearing your footsteps and hoping his heart would calm down quickly before it burst. You were freshening up in the bathroom, then he saw you approaching, a lazy smile greeting him. God, his heart was weak for you.

"Hey," your body fell into the couch right next to him, letting his arm naturally wrap around your shoulder. "What's for today's take out?"

"The usual, from your favourite place," 

"Stop, really?" You squealed in excitement, loving yourself some good food with an even better company. "What movie are we watching?"

"I know you've been dying to rewatch 'Pretty Woman', haven't you?"

"Maybe …"

"'Pretty Woman' it is then." 

Everything seemed like how it always was, a movie playing in the background, the finished plates of food on the table, your head on Jake's shoulder, it was a normal day over at Jake's. Yet for him, it wasn't just a simple one this time around. He was going to finally say what he wanted to say, and he was going to be brave about it.

"Y/N, I've been meaning to ask you this—"

Your head snapped up from his shoulder, a look of worry written all over your face. "Is it about the last pizza slice you were saving?"

Jake blinked, being the one who's dumbfounded now. "What? Were you the one who ate it?" 

"No?"

He rolled his eyes lightheartedly, reaching to pinch your cheek gently. "You're lucky I like you," this was the time, Jake, say it! "Which explains why I'm about to ask you this—" he turned his body to face you, took a hold of your hands, pulling you slightly closer to him. 

"Let me be yours, Y/N. Can I be your boyfriend?"

Your momentary silence genuinely scared him a little, but the moment he saw your face lighting up with a wide cheesy grin, he knew that was it.

"Definitely—" you nodded almost too eagerly, your eyes wandering every part of his face, a swell of emotions erupted in the bottom pits of your abdomen. "—boyfriend,"

Upon hearing the word slipping from your lips, Jake couldn't get anymore giddy. "You're too cute. My girlfriend, my girl," he only got closer, inching towards you, his eyes occasionally flickering between you and your lips.

"Can I–I kiss you?"

At that moment, nothing felt real. The flashing lights from the television only made Jake's eyes gleam brighter in the dim room. You nodded, holding in your breath unknowingly. You were about to kiss Jake. Your boyfriend. Your best friend. 

"I need words, sweets," he mumbled, one hand still holding onto you, the other already travelling up the side of your neck up to your face. 

"Yeah, need you to kiss me," 

It didn't take Jake much more consideration after that, colliding his lips into yours electrifyingly, sealing unspoken desires and pent up frustrations, as if you and him had been waiting for this for too long. You reciprocated his desperation feverishly, the movie now completely out of sight and mind.

Jake was the first to pull away, both breathless and dazed, trying to catch his breath. You were most probably blushing, the dim light thankfully hiding it. Heart pumping heavily, feeling warm all over and a sense of excitement were overwhelming you suddenly, just from a kiss, which never happened before in the history of your love life.

"You're pretty, really pretty," his low voice brought you out of your brief trance, not realising how close he was to you and him observing your every feature. "Can I kiss you again?"

Something in you, probably the overflowing giddiness, brought out a light laugh from you, and being easily influenced by you, Jake started laughing too. The hand holding onto yours tugged you towards him, your body crashing into his, until you finally adjusted your body comfortably in his lap, you met his lips once more.

You could feel Jake grinning into the kiss, either of you breaking into small giggles here and there. The kiss was gentle this time, the love and affection from him were poured into his kiss, expressing something words aren't enough or able to.

"I can never resist you," you poked his chest lightly, your head now resting on Jake's shoulder just like before, your arms now wrapped around his torso, sitting in his lap and enjoying the intimacy.

"Of course you can't," he teased, earning a small punch to the shoulder from you. "I might need more kisses,"

"You're getting none,"

"You're so mean," 

"But you do love me for that, don't you?"

Jake wasn't able to resist an eye roll, tickling your side. "I do," his hand rubbing your back. "Hey, what do you think my mum would react after we tell them about us?"

"Is your mum going to kill me?"

"You're aware my mum loves you more than me, right? Her own child? She's going to be fine," he snorted, his fingers playing with your hair distractedly. "I'm really glad you're here with me now, genuinely. You've always been my strength, my number one, and I don't think I could even be here without you,"

"Jake…" you faltered, getting slightly emotional, the effect of his words getting to you again! " I'll literally kiss you again,"

"Really?"

"Later," you pushed your overly impatient boyfriend's face away, letting out a humorous laugh, only to face a pout from him after. "I'll always come back to you."

You knew heaven was a thing, you go there whenever you are with him. If this was what love felt like, maybe you would want it for a long time. 

No matter how hard you tried to fight it, he would always make you feel things others wouldn't be able to. Even after breaking your heart, then healing it wholly, it somehow only beats for him, and in the end, you knew you'd go back to him, you'll always do.

taglist: @1800-beomgyu @yawnzshit @shinrjj @skzenhalove @taekwondoes @lalalalawon @ce1ight @enhacqke @winteringdream @strvlveera @rikisly @rikakhai @renchai @sievenderz @fariylixie0915 @enhastolemyheart @ckline35 @eulris @yenqa @jayfrvr @tobiosbbyghorl @liikno @vizstars @kells5595 @heesluvrgirl @thepencilkorner @hajimelvr @heeflrs @starriesworlds @aefolrin @s00buwu @star4rin (bolded = can't be tagged)

#fic tag! midnight rain (back to you) #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen oneshots #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen smau #jake sim #enhypen jake #jake sim imagines #jake x reader #jake imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake sim #jake enhypen #jake sim x reader #jake sim drabbles #enhypen heeseung x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jay #jake smau #heeseung fanfic

[chimcess]

A Picture’s Worth || jjk (I)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Ex-Art Thief!Reader, Ex-Assassin!Reader, Ex-Gang member!Reader, Gang member!Jungkook, Assassin!Jungkook, Hitman!Jungkook, Thief!Jungkook Genre: Strangers to lovers, gang AU, mafia AU, Fluff, Angst, Smut     Word Count: 23.2k+ Summary: After pulling off the largest art heist of her career, Y/N has put that life behind her. However, after 4 years out of the business, she comes home to find a stranger in her house. Warnings: violence, blood, gang activity, mafia activity, mentions of death, actual death, crime, robberies, pickpocketing, graphic depictions of injuries, guns, knives, mentions of past torture, body branding (not too graphic), major character(s) injured, STRONG LANGUAGE, Gang tattoos, Abuse (not JK and Reader), JK is a bit of a himbo, but only with his friends, he’s actually quite scary, I’m not a gang member or anything so I could be wrong about that stuff, I tried my best, eventual smut, mutual pining, kissing (let me know if I missing anything) Author’s Note:Things were getting out of hand, so I made the executive decision to split this into two parts. This one is establishing plot so no smut (yet). Thanks so much for reading. She’s a big girl.

Listen to the Playlist || cross posted to ao3: here

Five years ago

There comes a point in a child’s life that they begin to ponder over what they will become. Some girls I knew dreamt of becoming lawyers, doctors, or astronauts. I remember there being a time when I had thought of more than the mountains I had lived in, possibly moving to California and starting my life over after I was finished with school. I had even played with the idea of owning a salon. I hoped that I would be pretty when I grew up with bright red hair just like Ariel. It was strange looking back on that time and how little had truly changed. 

While I had, in some ways, deviated from the life my family had wanted for me, I was still lurking in the shadows and biding my time. Instead of hiring me for hits, the players I worked for enjoyed the finer things in life. Patrons of the arts if you will. Staring up at the Rembrandt painting, it was not a wonder as to why.

Looking over my shoulder, I was relieved to see Hoseok in position. Locking eyes momentarily, I gave him a small, polite smile and returned to the painting in front of me. To the security cameras, we were simply two strangers who had a small moment in time. I knew that we were trying to use signals as much as we could without looking suspicious. A smile normally meant that I was confident I could pull this off. Hoseok’s returning nod was his way of saying he was happy with his own assessments.

The heist would take a few more weeks to plan out. Our buyer wanted 18 different art pieces from this museum, something that was doable with our team, as well as 38 pieces of jewelry. Taehyung and Jimin would be in charge of the operation. Walking away from the Rambrandt, I looked over other pieces with the same intensity to not raise suspicions. While the cameras here were not of great quality, they could still see us and that alone was enough to bother me. 

Stealing has always come naturally to me. Second nature. When I was young I pickpocketed, the artform far more refined now that I was much older, and my parents enjoyed how sneaky I could be when I wanted to be. We never stayed anywhere for too long, the last place I had seen them was Aspen six years ago, but my favorite years were London. The Underground was a perfect place to pickpocket. In a day I could swipe over 100 items and no one would be the wiser.

My tastes changed as I grew. There was a time when I hated the idea of being a criminal like my parents were. I disdain violence at the best of times, but there were very few ways of getting out unscathed. It was when I managed to steal jewels from a heavily secured store that I caught the eyes of The Saints. Hoseok was impressed by my attention to detail and offered me a way to get out of my family home. I was sixteen and impulsive. A little over ten years later I was still standing here, pickpocketing the wealthy and giving it to those just as fortunate. It had stopped bothering me years ago, the guilt, but there was always a piece of me that longed for those far away dreams of cutting hair. It almost made me laugh just thinking about it.

“It’s a beautiful painting, isn’t it?” A soft voice asked, suddenly beside me.

Turning, I was confronted with a familiar face. Yoongi hardly changed, his set lips and keen eyes unwavering. There was a long, jagged scar that ran down his forehead, over his eye, and down his cheek. He got the scar when he was still in the Irish Mob back in Boston. He was an earner with those boys and they gave him hell about leaving. Still, he had managed to walk away only to join a different side of organized crime.

“Yes, but not really to my taste,” I joked.

I had never been the biggest fan of abstract work. I liked it a great deal more than landscapes, it was at least interesting to look at, but the lack of effort had bothered me. It would never take off anyway. No one liked over priced paint splatters. Yoongi hummed.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

Taking the cue, I stood as he walked off and began counting back from 500 in my head. Everyone would be heading back to the command now. Everything had been squared away for now. Taking one more passing glance at the Rembrandt, I sighed. Hopefully, when this is all done, I could walk away.

With my head held high, I slowly drifted toward the exit. Taking the time to look over art was another great way to cover my tracks. In order to stay a nobody, I had to be a nobody, and only a nobody would stop to look at a still-life of a bowl of fruit. I never did understand why these things were popular. Then, finally, after five more minutes of “ooo”ing an “ahh”ing at pieces I’ve seen every week for the last month, I was out of the door.

Three years ago

Blinking, I stood motionless as I stared at the cracks in the little apartment’s ceilings. It had been a difficult find, something so cheap in San Diego was a steal even if it was only 300 square feet. Smiling, I threw my duffel bag of belongings onto the futon I had brought earlier that day. Finally, things were going to start looking up.

I had flown in from Kansas the week prior and had made the most of cheap motel rooms until I scored this place. I had always loved California and finally I had made it home. Looking around, I found I was not as upset by the lack of space or functioning stove. In fact, it had been the lightest I had felt in a very long time. Only second to when I graduated from Aveda last fall.

Deciding to pick up what little boxes I had with me, I broke them down and tore them into strips that were easily thrown away. I was lucky the place had come with a small, countertop fridge and microwave. The only sink was in the bathroom, a room that was floor-to-ceiling covered in tile with a toilet, small sink, and a shower head. I would have to wear flip flops just in case. The landlord had recommended using a bucket since the hot water only lasted for about 10 minutes.

I did not have much. I had gotten into the habit of packing light and living even lighter, but I was determined to try this differently. I’ve gotten what I have always wanted and I was going to let anyone, or anything, take it away from me. Going to my duffel bag, I began packing out my folded clothes and organizing them into different piles before putting them away. I had bought a tall, skinny wardrobe at the same GoodWill I had gotten the futon from. 

Calling out to my phone, I asked Siri to play some music and got to work. I hated silence. Using the small drawers on the left side, I stuffed my underwear and pajamas on that side of the wardrobe. The right side was meant to hang nice things on, but I did not own nice things anymore. Instead hung were two pairs of jeans, a few dresses, and some shirts. I only owned black now. It was the dress code for every salon I had ever worked at- including the newest one. My shoes went on the shelves above the drawers and I made a mental note to buy a better pair of sneakers. I wanted to get outside more often.

Putting away the rest of my things was just as quick. My makeup was stored away on the desk that was attached to the wall beside the fridge. It was meant to be a dining area, but I doubted I would ever have company over to make use of it. My few skincare products were safely stored away in the bathroom mirror, and my kit was under my bed for safe keeping. I was suddenly acutely aware of just how sad everything truly was.

“Well,” I mumbled to myself. “Hopefully I can get enough clientele to get out of this shithole.”

At least, I thought to myself, at least I was free. 

With that in mind, I grabbed my keys and headed out into the city. It had been hours since I last stopped for anything and I would have no luck here for the night. Slipping into the hallway, I realized that I was happy. For the first time in a while I felt unadulterated. Things were going to be fine.

Two years ago

Clutching the pizza box with one hand and balancing it on my hip, I cradle my phone with my shoulder as I open the door to my building.

“The earliest I’ll be available is Thursday,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet.

The customer, Jules, cheerfully asked if I had any availability on Sunday instead. Rolling my eyes, I reminded her that the salon was closed on both Sunday and Monday. This would be the third time I had to repeat myself.

“What about Saturday?” She asked, still as clueless as she had been since I had picked up.

“I’m free from 2pm until 3pm, but if you want a haircut and balayage I will need longer than an hour.”

“How long do you need?” Finally, I heard a hint of frustration slipping through her otherwise cheery voice.

“If you want the full layered balayage it can take up to three hours for hair as long as yours is. It can be shorter if you just want a partial- between 45 minutes to an hour and a half.”

Huffing up the stairs, I struggled to open the door to my floor and used my foot to keep it open while I awkwardly hobbled. Rolling my eyes, I wanted to pull my hair out. This would be the fourth time now.

“I can put you in Thursday morning from 8am until noon. I can also do Friday from 5pm until 8pm. I’m not available again until the following Wednesday.”

Jules hummed, unable to stay silent I found. We had been on the phone for twenty five minutes and I was beginning to get a migraine. She was sweet, and I appreciated her never ending patience, but I was not blessed with the same superpower. I had never been known for my temperament or politeness. I only had patience when money was involved. Shoving my door open with my shoulder, I willed those thoughts away. That was the last thing I needed to think about right now.

Jules was going to make me go rob a fucking bank at this rate. Banks weren’t even my thing. That brought a smile to my face and I put the pizza down on the single counter I had in the kitchen. 

“I guess Thursday will work then. I was just hoping to get it done before my birthday.”

Pausing, I sighed heavily. Wonderful. She was a guilt tripper. Little shit.

“What day is your birthday?” I asked.

“Oh! It’s Tuesday. My girls and I are going to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate.”

And despite my better judgment, I opened my calendar and began looking at my schedule on Tuesday. Knowing I had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker, I just went right out with it. 

“We can try something if you’re open to it.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Jules asked, voice perking up.

“I can give you a partial balayage Tuesday and then you can come back Thursday to finish the rest if you want to after seeing the results.”

Jules squealed and began talking very quickly, her excitement palpable. I cringed away from the speaker of my phone.

“That would be Ah-mazing! What time on Tuesday could you see me?”

“I had a cancellation first thing in the morning. I’m free from 8am until 9:45. We’ll get as much as we can during that time.”

“Oh! I can definitely make that. Can we do the haircut on Tuesday instead of Thursday?”

Biting my tongue, I had to stop the smart ass comment I wanted to make from coming out. She was obviously very young or had little experience going to a salon. Still, it’s common sense that we would cut first. I’m not wasting products like that.

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” I settled on.

“Thanks so much, Y/N! See you Tuesday!”

“See you then, Jules. Before you go, can I get some information from you so I can put you down properly?”

After getting her full name, phone number, and email address, I let her go and logged into the salon’s appointment system to add her in. Our receptionist had quit two months ago and we were having a hard time finding a replacement. I tried to tell Tony he needed to raise the pay but he was not budging. Right now we were all stuck keeping track of everything ourselves. 

The pizza was not very hot anymore but was warm enough to not be too bothersome. Happy to have some extra money coming in, I went to the fridge and grabbed a soda from it. I bought a small cart to put my microwave on. The mini fridge just happened to fit perfectly below it. The small Keurig I bought myself for Black Friday was right beside the microwave. A snug fit but it worked. Taking a bite of the pizza, I leaned against the counter and groaned.

I was so happy to be home.

Home. It was a word I was still hesitant to say. It was hard to believe things were permanent even after all this time. Some nights I stared up at the ceiling and waited for a knock on my door. Even if Hoseok promised emergencies only it was difficult to know what the guys would consider an emergency. That world was so far removed from this new reality of mine that I feared I was losing my edge. Would I even be able to help them anymore? 

With doubt and a recurring nightmare, I fell asleep and dreamt of casinos and Rembrandt.

One year later

Sweeping up the floor, I glanced around the room to find myself alone. 

“Great,” I huffed. “I’m going to have to talk to Tony about this bullshit.”

It had been the third time the new hire, Sasha, had left without helping with cleanup. First he snuck out of the back when he was helping Tiesha, and the last two times had been with me. While we tried to keep the boss out of the personal issues we had at the shop, I was not about to let some 19-year-old walk around like he’s above it all. Angrily, I kept sweeping and hoped that the bastard got stuck in the worst traffic getting back on the I-5. 

Walking over to Andrea’s station, I rolled my eyes. She always forgot to put her combs in the sterilizing solution. Making quick work of that, I went around checking everyone’s stations to be sure it was all in order. Even Sasha’s. His desk was immaculately cleaned and I gritted my teeth harder. Seems like he’s one of those people. Feeling petty, I skipped sweeping under his vanity and kept going. Not like it made much of a difference anyway. Maybe I should steal his wallet tomorrow and help him look for it.

Fucking idiot.

No, I scolded myself. I am not that person anymore. I would definitely not go back to that lifestyle for Alexander Ivanov. Reminding myself that he was just a spoiled little brat, I continued sweeping hoping it would calm me down long enough to clear my head. If I let any of those ideas foster that would be bad. I’d have every valuable item that boy owned by lunch.

Suddenly the front desk phone began to ring and I chose to ignore it. It was five minutes after closing time and I did not feel like dealing with anyone else today. Sasha had pissed me off enough. I did not want some snotty customer adding to it. The ringing stopped and I was satisfied that they simply left a voicemail. 

Turning to go back to the staff room to gather the Swiffer, I was stopped in my tracks by the phone. A part of me wanted to answer it now. It had to be the same person. Still, I was off the clock and that was not a part of my job description. Destiny would handle it in the morning. The ringing stopped. I started walking. It started up again.

Peeved but resigned, I walked to the front desk and checked the number flashing on the screen. It was from out of state. Figures. Usually clients who wanted to come in on vacation called without realizing the time zone difference. Forcing a smile to my face, I picked up.

“Mane Street, this is Y/N speaking. How can I help you?”

“Ten minutes.” The line died.

I knew that voice from anywhere. Shaking, I placed the phone back on its modem and took a second to gather myself. Whatever the emergency was, I only had ten minutes to finish cleaning and get outside. Knowing Hoseok, he would be waiting for me near my car. Better yet, he’d already be in the passenger seat.

Scrambling, I began to mop the floors and Windex the mirrors. I refused to let this unexpected visit stop me from performing my job. I was happy Sasha had left. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost. You have definitely heard one, my subconscious screamed.

I was locked up eight minutes later. I had been keeping count in my head just as I always had before. It was unsettling just how quickly I had transformed back into the person I had once been. Who was I fooling? I’ve been covering her up with scissors, a shitty studio apartment, and take out. That did not change the overseas accounts, fake names, and stolen jewelry I’ve kept. That doesn’t change the stolen art hanging on my walls.

Rounding the back of the store, I was not surprised to see my vehicle was the only one still there. Squinting, I could see the silhouette of a person’s head in the passenger side. The street light just in front of the pickup was facing the front, their side profile obscured by the light, but I would recognize Hoseok anywhere. He was hard but soft, jagged but gentle, and most importantly, his face was oval with a pointed chin. Anxiety bubbling in my stomach, I put on a brave face and marched forward. I would be right on time.

Hoseok did not say a word as I slid into the driver’s seat or when I closed the door. Not waiting for him to make a demand, I started the engine and turned on the AC. It was stuffy. Hoseok continued to look straight while I buckled my seatbelt and put the truck in reverse.

“Don’t go home,” He finally said.

Dread filled my stomach but I did as he said. Instead of turning left, I went right and headed for the little diner I enjoyed getting a late dinner at. It was the best place for steak and eggs. I was not sure if Hoseok would be hungry but I did not care. We never really thought about those things before.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing what you like,” He spoke again, his voice still gentle. “You look very nice, too. Like the new hair.”

I was always unnerved by this side of Hoseok. He was typically a very loud, energetic, and passionate man. Soft spoken and Hoseok had never gone together. Then again, it had been almost five years since I had seen him. A lot could change within that time. That, or whatever he was going to tell me would require softness. I hoped it was just a personality change from getting older. 

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m glad to see you’re healthy.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “Hadn’t realized you thought about me at all.”

I scoffed, “Of course I think about you. I think about all of you very often.”

This seemed to throw him for a loop. It was weird to speak so openly about my feelings. We had always gone about life with coldness. Being sharp and intense was the only way to survive out there. If anyone saw you as weak or vulnerable then you were finished. That was why Yoongi usually acted as a middle man. He was the hardest, coldest, most impenetrable wall there ever was. Just looking into his eyes you could see that. Shivering, I recalled the time he killed a man with a set of chopsticks while we were in Korea. 

“We think about you, too,” Hoseok said, sounding far away.

Turning into the diner’s parking lot, I turned off the engine and got out. Hoseok followed closely behind me and I asked him if he wanted anything.

“I hear the steak and eggs are nice,” He commented, eyes downcasted.

“Is Taehyung keeping tabs on me?” I sneered, anxiety turning into anger.

Taehyung was the tech guy when he wasn’t stealing jewels. He was also a royal pain in the ass who never knew when to cool it. He had been the most upset when he heard that I was leaving the crew and I would not put it past him. Taehyung was just that kind of guy. The gesture was kind, I was certain of that, and came from a place of love. Still, I had asked to be left alone. It seemed like no one really accepted that.

“I tried to stop it but it’s impossible to keep track of everything he does,” Hoseok admitted. “After a while we just accepted the fact that he wouldn’t give it up. He is trying to check in less and less, though. He’s just worried someone will come around and we won’t know about it.”

“And that’s how you knew where I worked?”

Holding the door open, Hoseok thanked me before going inside. Doris smiled at me when I walked inside. She was an elderly woman who liked to help me with my Sudoku puzzles on Sunday mornings. Eyeing Hoseok curiously, I waved at her before finding an open booth. I normally sat at the bar but I did not want prying eyes. Doris would not go away if we sat there and Hoseok was obviously wanting privacy.

“Hey sugar,” Dixie, a waitress from Alabama, greeted us.

She put down two menus and asked us what we wanted to drink. Hoseok ordered a coffee while I got a glass of chocolate milk. The man looked me up and down, amusement coloring every one of his features. I waved him off and looked at the menu. If he ordered steak and eggs I would order something else. Hoseok was a big fan of sharing food even if we both had our own portions.

Hoseok, like many of the guys from the crew, was South Korean. He was born in Gwangju, a city in the southern part of the country, and moved to the US with his friend Namjoon during university. Namjoon went on to become a campaign manager in New York City while Hoseok became an associate of the Gambino family after killing a few guys. Over time the two went their separate ways, but Hoseok always spoke fondly of him. Last he heard, Namjoon had moved to Seoul and was working at the Blue House.

“You all figured out what you want?” Dixie asked, reappearing with our drinks.

Hoseok ordered the steak and eggs while I got their “Rising Roadhouse'' meal. It came with waffles and I knew that would make Hoseok happy. When we were alone again, Hoseok sighed.

“It’s Jimin,” He said.

Bracing myself, I leaned in closer so we could speak quietly. The diner was almost empty at this time of night and I was nervous. This was shit no one needed to hear about. Hoseok got closer to me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, whispering harshly.

“He’s gotten into some shit with Winter Hill again. Yoongi bailed him out but things are going to shit. They want us to get some things for them to make up for it. We weren’t sure where to go, and Georgie was very specific.”

I breathed through my nose. Jimin was my closest friend during my time with the crew. We thought the most alike, worked the best, and trusted one another. However, we were also hot heads. I had worked on myself tremendously over the years, but Jimin had the worst kind of anger. Talking out the mouth. And to talk to somebody in Winter Hill the way I assumed he had? Jimin was asking to lose a finger. That’s if he hadn’t already. Looking at Hoseok, he seemed to know what question I had on my mind.

“Yoongi made him cut the first joint off. I told him to write an apology letter in blood. I also sent the boss the piece in a medicine jar. Just to be sure.”

Grimacing, I rubbed my forehead. I had almost forgotten the way they do things in the mafia. The letter in blood, however, seemed more of a New York thing. I’d have to get clarification on that later. Leaning back in my chair, I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled absentmindedly.

On one hand, I was very angry that either of them would humiliate Jimin like that. On the other hand, I knew that the boy had put them in a very, very fucked up spot. Either they make amends and punish him or they lose the entire East Coast. If Boston doesn’t want anything to do with them, New York will become weary as well. Even if Hoseok was a Red Pull at one time, he is still an outsider. He was still just an associate. 

“What is he looking for?” I finally asked, leaning back in.

“Jewelry. Said they wanted something ‘your old girl’ would like. Said you’d know what to do.”

I smirked. Georgie Boy had always been impressed with my taste. Still, I was not sure about getting involved with all of this. In order to do so would mean helping them stake out a place and I was not going there. I had made my peace. Still, I could not help the part of me that felt excited. I squashed it like a bug.

“I’m not helping you with anything,” I said.

“I’m not asking you to,” He replied. “Just tell us if you’ve seen anything noteworthy lately.”

Dixie came back with our food and I used it as a distraction. I needed time to think. Hoseok and I ate off of one another and I continued to sit and ponder over the new things I had seen at the museum in town. I had gone many times, I had always tried to desensitize myself to the feeling I got when I walked in, but each time I looked around. I knew where every single camera was, I knew how to get into the back, and I was familiar enough with the security system to work around it. Every detail of a heist had already formed in my head that I refused to act on. Just as I knew every museum all the way up to Orange County. There were quite a few jewelers that had caught my eye as well. Still, I knew my answer after a few minutes of silence.

“His daughter’s birthday is soon, isn’t it?” I clarified, making sure my memory serves me well.

“In a few weeks,” Hoseok nodded.

“There’s a pair of earrings at Beverly Hills Jewelers,” I started. “They’re 2 carat, T.W, diamonds. They’re heart shaped. Halo. They’re beautiful.”

“Price?”

“I believe $15,000. They have some nice tennis chains as well that could match.”

He hummed, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough.”

I nodded, “I’ll include a personalized letter as well as a ring from my own collection if that helps.”

Hoseok smiled brightly at me. I knew that had pleased him. Georgie Boy would also be happy. His little girl gets some nice gifts and he gets to wave his dick around like the narcissist is is. In my head, I was already trying to remember the layout of the store. I had only gone inside twice when I took a trip to Beverly Hills. I was having a rough day and I wanted to get back in my element for a while. Scoping out places was always a relaxing thing for me to do. I ended up buying a necklace while I was there so they wouldn’t become suspicious of me. Still, I would have to see it again and show the guys what I was talking about so they could do the hit. That place was heavily secured.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Hoseok said, pushing the last piece of steak closer to me.

Grinning at him I replied, “It was an emergency.”

And then I popped the steak in my mouth and savored the taste. Just for now I would have a little bit of chaos. It would just be Hoseok and I, so that made the guilt lessen. At least this wasn’t something I would have to actually perform. Still, I thought to myself, I was incredibly bored without the little bit of chaos I had before.

Present

Laughing, I cut another piece of brown hair off. Jules stared at me, her hands covering her mouth, while she shook. She was a regular now, always got the same treatment, but when she called about her appointment last week she asked for a bob. Well, giving it to her, it was difficult to imagine just how upset she would become.

Her mother had recently been diagnosed with cancer and she wanted to show her that she was standing with her. The chemo had made chunks fall out and her mother decided to buzz her head. I had been the person to do that and give her a pamphlet of local stores she could go to and buy nice wigs. Jules, however, had called me late and said she wanted to donate her own hair for her mom. Tony had recently registered the salon with Locks of Love and trained us all in it. Sasha had been the most excited about the prospect. His mother had died from cancer when he was in highschool. 

Jules’s hair was thick, dark brown, and wavy. Everything about it was perfect and she was a dream to work with. She always took things in stride and tipped well. Today, I was worried if she would ever come back. 

Her hair was long enough that we could keep it at her shoulders. She had always kept it past her butt, just barely grazing her upper thighs, and took pride in it. I was still planning to give her plenty of highlights and a blowout- on the house. I had nothing but love for the girl and I knew how difficult this would be for her. Glancing at Tiesha, she smiled.

“Girl, what are you crying for?” She joked, parting another section of her client’s hair.

I recognized her but was not sure of her name. She always came in for installations or silk presses. Tiesha was always happy to see her, at the very least, so I knew she was a nice enough person. 

“I don’t know,” Jules whined back, sniffling and rubbing her reddening eyes.

“Now, you are too damn pretty to be looking like that,” She replied, braiding back another section. “Make an appointment with momma and I’ll hook you up.”

I scoffed, “I can do extensions, too.”

“Oh, I know. But you’re most definitely a colorist. Julie, baby, Ty will take good care of you, okay?”

“Your mom will be very happy,” Sasha chimed in, his Russian accent thick. 

Jules nodded, “Yeah, she will.”

I smiled to myself. That was the best motivator to get through this. I kept as much length as I could and I was still going to try to make her feel pretty with the new style. She had said her friends were excited but her boyfriend was conflicted. He loved her hair. That made me frown. Who the fuck says that to their girlfriend? Especially one who’s doing it for their sick mother.

“I’ve never gone this short before,” Jules said, her composure coming back. “It’s scary.”

“Don’t worry,” Sasha soothed, cleaning up from his last client. “You’ve got the best in the house. Y/N’ll take care of you.”

I winked at the boy. Sasha had grown on me considerably since he was first hired. I had not gone to Tony about his skipping after all, instead I cornered him at work and told him if he ever ditched me again I would get him fired. We were rocky after that but I knew his respect for me had gone up. A friendship blossomed when he confessed he was clueless about doing color. Sasha was an amazing stylist and his precion was otherworldly, but Destiny was right to never give him color clients. I spent a few nights helping him practice on some mannequin heads and he followed me around like a puppy. He had even agreed to clean up alone for two nights while I was in Beverly Hills helping Hoseok scope out the place. We were thick as thieves after that.

“I know that,” Jules cracked a smile. “She always takes care of me.”

“I’m flattered,” I finally said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plans for you.”

Her smile grew. Jules had been very excited about free coloring. I had told her I was giving myself free reign, and I wondered if she thought I was going to go manic pixie on her. Hopefully some lowlights and babylights would suffice. We had never gone darker before and I thought it would suit the new cut well. 

Cutting in her layers, I was happy with how it looked. Her hair framed her face nicely and she would still have enough length to play around with it if she wanted. Jules was a fan of those half-up, half-down looks. Using my comb, I ran through her hair and cut. So far, she had not looked back at the mirror. She seemed nervous too. 

“Do you want me to cut your bangs blunt or keep them split?” I asked.

Jules perked up, “Oh! I was actually thinking about trying a new bang style.”

I nodded, “Do you have a picture?”

She opened her gallery and pulled it up. I smiled to myself. Jameela Jamil really did pull off the schoolgirl bangs. 

“So in between?” I walked around so she was facing me. 

“Do you think it’ll look nice?” She asked, chewing her bottom lip.

I studied her face for a moment. 

“You’ll look great, but it might take some time to get used to. They’re a bit more maintenance than blunt or curtain.”

She smiled, “I figured that.”

Working quietly, I began to trim her bangs into the correct shape. They will look their best after I finish styling the rest of her hair. Jules loved it when I straightened her hair after our visits. She never had the patience for it at home and it made her feel special when she got it done here. I would have to let her know that her bangs will look pretty if she curled the longer side pieces to blend them in with her natural waves. With the cutting done, it was time to start the lowlights.

“When is your next appointment?” I asked Sasha.

He was sitting in his chair and texting someone on his phone. He glanced at me before getting back to his screen.

“About twenty minutes. He’s new.”

“Oh, a man?” Tiesha dramatically emphasized the man part. It was not often that men booked with us. Sasha had gone to barber school and did amazing work, but for some reason the idea of going to a salon bothered most men. “He from out of town?”

“I think so,” The Russian nodded. “He definitely sounded foreign. I couldn’t tell where from. Maybe Asia?”

I froze for a moment. I took a breath. There was absolutely no way that any of them would do that. Then I thought of Taehyung. Absolutely not, I scolded myself. That boy feared me more than anybody else. I would ring him by his neck and then let Yoongi know about it. Besides, I said emergencies only. They would have scheduled with me if they were trying to talk. Walking back to my chair, I placed the dye and bleach down on the metal tray next to me. Opening one of the drawers at my desk, I grabbed some latex gloves and foil.

Getting started was simple. Getting the brown, I began painting sections of her hair and foiling them. The foil was not really necessary, but I always got nervous that the parts I did not want colored would get touched. Lowlights were more sparsely added, and unlike highlights, never layers. Making my way around her head, I was excited to see if she would like it. I only went a shade darker than her natural color, so the color contrast was not extremely stark. The highlights were the most important part of the look.

Foiling the last piece of hair, I took the bowl to the sink near the back as well as the brush I was using. Tossing them in and removing my gloves, I heard the bell chime and Sasha’s customer service voice begin. No one could beat Tiesha’s, that woman had client relationships like no one I had ever met. They adored her.

“Come sit and we can get started,” Sasha seemed more excited than usual.

I guessed the guy wanted something a bit different from his normal caseload.

“Alright,” I sighed, clapping my hands. “Let's get this bleach started.”

Walking back into the main room, I paid no mind to the customer sitting in Sasha’s chair. Jules was FaceTiming with someone and I grinned when I recognized her mom’s voice. She seemed very cheery today.

“Oh, I love that length on you,” Martha gushed, her accent only picking up on certain words.

“Gracias, mami,” Jules beamed. “Do you think Carlos will like it?”

Martha waved her hands around animatedly when she talked. I had learned that from the many times she came to the salon with Jules. Now, she was shaking them violently.

“Who cares?”

I laughed and got to work on her highlights. 

“I said the same thing,” I chimed.

The three of us talked as I worked. Martha always enjoyed asking me about the craziest customer of the week, and I usually indulge her. This week it had been a very convoluted, pastel rainbow color job. She wanted the top half white and the bottom portion colored. She booked out my entire day, gave me hell about every insignificant detail, and then left a $2 tip. Sasha got to hear me rant and rave about it when we were cleaning that night.

“She’s never allowed in my chair again,” I finished, setting a timer for everything. 

The lowlights had been sitting for twenty minutes while the babylights would need about 15 in order to develop the way I want them to. Thinking, I was certain the lowlights would be fine going two minutes over the usual time. They would be hardly noticeable regardless. 

“You’ve had worse,” Sasha pointed out.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But those women tip well. I don’t care how rude you are- money is money. That chick is a pain in the ass without the benefits.”

“She has nothing on Kimberly,” Tiesha joked. 

I groaned, “God, don’t even put that name into the universe. She’s due back soon.”

Sasha laughed. “She does pay very well. Don’t blame you.”

“Who’s Kimberly?” Jules asked.

I gave Tiesha a look before answering her.

“She’s a regular. Tony was her go-to guy, but he’s only in twice a week and it doesn’t line up with her schedule. He sent her over to me. Let’s just say she takes picky to a new level.”

Jules snickered, “What does she like to get?”

“Usually a platinum blonde, layered cut. On paper it’s not the most difficult thing in the world, but she makes it much more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Complicated?” Tiesha exclaimed. “That woman is super rude, always late, and acts like she knows everything. I’d tell that bitch to kick rocks.”

Her client laughed out loud.

“That might be true,” I reasoned, checking the foils. “But, she always tips well and shouts me out on her socials. So, can I really complain? Besides, I’m used to her.”

Checking the foils again, I was happy with the color they were and decided to take the foils off early. Stopping my timer, I asked Jules to walk over to the rinsing station. I was happy this was my last client. Sweeping up the hair, I left it in the dustpan until I was ready to begin the tedious task of preparing it for donation. Putting on a new pair of gloves, I willed this day to be over already.

I knew something was off when a new motorcycle was parked out front. Briefly checking the plates, I was even more weary when they were from Jersey. I knew far too many people in that corner of the US. Still, I told myself that it could be anybody. Perhaps one of my new neighbors was from Hobokan. That was highly unlikely, though. Eyeing the red leather jacket hanging from one of the handles, I only knew one person who owned something like that. I guess I will be seeing Jimin tonight. The thought bothered me far more than I thought it would.

Taking my time going up the stairs, I considered calling Hoseok and demanding to know why Park was sniffing around my apartment. I knew I should have moved out, should have tried something new, but the thought of leaving the only home I ever knew bothered me. Using the time climbing to my advantage, I slowly steeled myself. Jimin could smell weakness from a mile away. He was also one person who could convince me to do bad things.

The excitement that ran through me at the idea sickened me.

Starting at the 4 on the door, I braced myself. When I walked into that hallway all traces of the new me had to disappear. There can be no laughter, no crying, and no open hostility. I would have to be a blank slate. With one small breath, I pulled the door and went into the hall.

There wasn’t a body in sight, but I knew better than to go off of that. Jimin could get into my apartment with relative ease. No one would notice either. Everyone else that lived was too busy making ends meet to pay attention to the stranger sneaking into my house.

Taking my keys out of my purse, I unlocked the door and walked inside. I could smell him. It was, however, not Jimin. Jimin only wore Orange Blossom by Jo Malone. Whoever this was smelled like baby powder and flowers. My guard completely up now, I continued further into the studio and kicked the door closed behind me. Whoever it was, I knew had been standing behind the door. The smell was not as potent as it had been before. 

Going into the kitchen, I shrugged my coat off before throwing it behind me. I heard it hit something and it was a blur after that. I quickly snatched a kitchen knife from the drying rack and threw myself to the ground. The man grabbed my hands. Kicking his inner thigh, I rolled from underneath him and shot up. He threw his arms up.

“Stop!”

Ignoring him, I threw the knife. The man reacted quickly, catching the blade in between his hands before throwing it down on the floor. While he was distracted, I slid on the floor and grabbed the pistol from under my bed. Pointing it at the man, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Without saying anything, I aimed for his left shoulder and fired. The silencer muzzled the shot, though the pop was still nasty. It worked better with a pillow added to the equation. I doubted any of my neighbors would notice the sound, however. The man shouted, stumbled back, and leaned against the fridge.

“You shot me,” He exclaimed, shocked.

“Who the fuck are you?” I barked, aimed for his other shoulder.

“You wait to ask me after you-”

I shot again. He gritted his teeth and sank to the floor. The wounds were leaking blood but I tried to not let it bother me. This guy broke into my house. This time, I aimed for his right knee.

“Who are you?” I asked again.

“Jungkook,” The man, Jungkook, answered. “I’m with The Saints.”

Lowering the barrel of the gun, I stared at him for a second. He was with my crew? Since when? 

“Who sent you?” I asked, aiming at his chest now.

If he was going to get found out, he might be more inclined to lunge before I could call anyone.

“Yoongi.”

Slowly, I reached into my back pocket and got my phone. I was relieved the screen hadn’t cracked during the outfall. Slowly, keeping my eyes on Jungkook, I started typing in the number I knew by heart. If he was lucky, Yoongi would pick up. If not, then we weren’t moving until someone did. After the second ring, a rough voice greeted me.

“August.”

Training my gun on his head, I spoke.

“There’s someone claiming they know you in my apartment.”

After a few seconds, Yoongi’s voice was hard when he replied.

“Who is it?”

“Says his name is Jungkook,” I replied evenly.

I was fully prepared to pull the trigger. Jungkook stared the barrel down without fear. I only hoped he would go down quickly and quietly. 

Yoongi sighed harshly, “Fucking Jimin.”

Gripping the handle tightly, I placed my finger on the trigger. I only needed the okay now.

“He’s fine,” Yoongi was annoyed. “I sent Jimin but I guess he got the kid to go instead.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I put the gun down. Jungkook visibly relaxed then and moaned in pain. Raising a hand, he cradled his left shoulder and hissed in pain. 

“Fucked him up,” I admitted. “He was in my apartment when I got home.”

Yoongi hummed, “Take care of him. He’ll let you know what’s going on. We have a problem.”

He hung up before I could respond.

I hated when he did that. I had no idea who Jungkook was, or what he was here to tell me, but we were on the same team. And I just shot him. Twice. Putting the gun back in its original spot, I reached a little further behind it and retrieved my first aid kit. Jungkook sagged in relief. 

“Sorry,” I apologized, helping him take his shirt off. “Didn’t realize you were with us.”

Jungkook hissed when I applied alcohol to the wounds. It would take me a while to get his patched up, but I was capable of doing it. Years of friendship with The Saints would do that to you. Looking at Jungkook, I was taken aback by how attractive he was.

All of the Saints were good looking, but this guy had an aura about him. His hair was wild, pitch black, and down to his shoulders. His skin was gently tanned with small moles dotted sporadically across his body. What caught my attention the most was the shiny, silver lip ring he donned. That was an oddity in our world.

“My fault, shouldn’t have broken in without a warning,” He replied.

“I saw the bike outside and thought you were Jimin.”

He hummed then winced. I knew those bullets did not feel nice. Taking my time and trying to be gentle, I used a pair of tweezers to get them out. Jungkook bit his lip so hard he drew blood. 

“Yeah,” He breathed out. “Let me borrow it for the ride.”

“Park,” We both knew what I meant by that.

For the next hour we sat in silence. He let me work and I listened to every sharp intake of breath, groan, and moan. I felt guilty about everything, but I also had a certain level of apathy. The guy was nobody to me. Not really. Same crew doesn’t mean we’re friends. Still, if they sent him here then that meant they trusted him enough to come. That told me a lot about him.

After I placed gauze over the stitches, Jungkook finally spoke again.

“Jin hyung said you were harmless,” He chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s wrong.”

Ignoring his comment, I went to find him something to wear. I doubted he would be able to fit any of my things. He was huge, a tall man with big arms, but I could make something work. Grabbing a loose fitting dress, I threw it to him.

“I don’t have anything for a man, so that will have to do.”

He nodded and put the dress on without complaint.

“I’ll pick up something for you later,” I continued. “Did you come alone?”

Jungkook shook his head, “Hyung’s around. He was going to come but an old friend called so he sent me.”

“Kai?” I wondered, already knowing the answer. 

Jimin and Kai were good friends. They had known one another since they were kids and got involved in crime together. I’d only met the guy in passing the few times he had visited Boston, but I was not very familiar with him. I knew he was a drug runner on the west coast but that was where my knowledge stopped.

“Yeah, said they had business or something.”

I hummed, “Would you like to lay down for a moment?”

Jungkook was very obviously in pain. He tried to deny it for a minute but ultimately took my offer. Going to the fridge, I pulled out a can of Ginger Ale and gave it to him. He accepted it readily.

“Sorry about the gun,” I offered, sitting on the floor. “Jin’s right. I’m usually pretty harmless. I didn’t even own a gun until I left The Saints.”

Jungkook shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. You weren’t expecting company.”

Opening my own drink, I eyed him. He was far too calm. My guess was this was not his first time being shot. Trying to find other wounds was pointless, however, he was too clothed. I hadn’t even thought to check when I was helping him earlier.

“Why’d you come inside anyway?” I asked.

Jungkook grinned ruefully.

“Hyung said he’d call you.”

That pulled a laugh out of me. Park probably forgot about it. For someone as dangerous as he was, he could be irresponsible. I remember when we were scoping a jewelry store together a few years back, Jimin had completely forgotten where the cameras were by the time we left. I had to go back myself a few days later to make sure his guesses were right. We had never let him live it down. Yoongi did not think it was very funny.

“Typical,” I said.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s eyes slipped closed. He was so completely at ease in my presence it was unnerving. Taking a sip of my drink, I looked at him in bewilderment. He was so much like Taehyung, trusting and easy going. It was difficult to imagine what role he played in the crew. He could have taken my place but I doubted he was as good. He had come here, hid behind my door, and then ambushed me. Then he was surprised when I acted like he was an enemy. Chuckling, I put my drink down. Yeah, just like Taehyung.

“What’s funny?” He asked, eyes still closed.

Wiping the smile off my face, I replied. “Just thinking.”

We did not talk again. I was sure Jungkook had dozed off, but he kept waking back up again. Getting up, I began looking for some pain medicine to no avail. I had not needed to put myself to sleep in a long time. Grabbing my keys from the floor, I told Jungkook I was heading out for a bit. I got no response. Patting myself down, I knew I did not have my phone and picked it up from beside the bed. Jungkook was lightly snoring.

Slipping from the room, I locked up and went downstairs. Typing in the last number I had for Jimin, I was not surprised that it was no longer in service. He changed phones like you change clothes. Deciding to call Taehyung, I went to my contacts to find him. He was the only person I saved.

“Hello?” His voice was deep and hoarse. 

Glancing at the time, I realized it was much later than I thought. 

“Sorry about the time,” I replied. “It’s Mouse.”

I heard shuffling on the other side. Taehyung had gotten himself a girlfriend, Jennie, and I was almost positive she was relatively clueless about his life. The last time I talked to Hoseok, he had said she thought he was a tech guy who was helping a start up. He must have been with her now if his silence was anything to go by.

“Sorry,” He said, voice low. “I’m not alone.”

“I just need Park’s number and you can get back to bed.”

Saying the numbers slowly, I typed them into my keypad as I made my way through the dark streets. 

“Thanks,” I stopped walking once I got to the gas station around the corner. “Get some sleep.”

“It was good to hear your voice,” He replied, more awake than he had been. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Night, V.”

“Night, Mouse.”

Hanging up, I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and walked into the store. It was deserted except for the cashier. Giving me a stiff nod, I ignored the man before going to the back of the store and getting some bottled water. I never trusted the tap in the building. Afterwards, I got a bottle of Nyquil and Advil before going to the register.

“Let me get a pack of Marlboro Black Menthols,” I told the cashier.

Taking out my phone, I took my ID from the attached wallet as well as my debit card. The man held the pack of cigarettes and took my ID. Briefly looking it over, he scanned the barcode before scanning the cigarettes. Handing the ID back to me, he began scanning my other items before bagging them.

“Your total is $26.87.”

Nodding, I inserted my card and typed my pin. Putting my card back into the small wallet, I put my phone into my pocket and took the bag.

“Have a good night,” I said.

“You too,” He replied.

Leaving the store, I opened up my keypad and pressed the call button. Jimin picked up after four rings.

“Hello?” He answered, voice brightly and bubbly.

He always answered unknown numbers like that just in case. Jimin always prioritized having the upper hand over anything else. Anyone looking for Park would never connect him to the voice on the other side. I, however, was familiar enough with him to see through the facade.

“You got your boy hit,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “I had to give him a dress and Nyquil after popping two in him.”

Jimin laughed loudly, his fake voice gone. This was why we were friends. Our senses of humor were far too warped due to our upbringings. In another world we would have been enemies belonging to different clans, but I liked this timeline far more. Park was a great guy when you looked past the insecurities, anger issues, and tendency to seek violence.

“Jungkook’s wearing a dress?” He exclaimed, still laughing. “God, you have to take a picture for me.”

I rolled my eyes, “Explain why he’s here. I would ask him but I stepped out to get some medicine for him.”

Jimin’s laughter abruptly cut off. That feeling of dread returned. If Park was getting serious then that meant whatever the situation was must be more than I thought it would be. I was expecting them to need me to help them with a heist, but I was getting the feeling it might be more than that. Jimin sighed.

“I can’t get into specifics right now, but you need to get the fuck out of California.”

Going up the stairs of my complex, I paused. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not safe here anymore.”

Growing angry, I shouted. “Enough with the cryptic messages, Park!”

Continuing to go up, I kept looking around every corner I went to. This was the worst fucking timing I could have had. Things were finally going well for me, I had friends and a job that I actually liked, and I had to give it all up again. Tears filling my eyes, I shoved open my door and slammed it behind me.

“I told you I can’t get into specifics, but there’s a reason I’m with Kai right now. You and Jungkook need to get out of that apartment as soon as possible. I don’t care where you go but you need to leave.”

Jungkook sprung up when I kicked the edge of my bed. Pointing to my phone, I mouth ‘Jimin.’ Getting on my knees, I pulled out my duffle bag from underneath the bed and threw it at the other man. He looked at me when he stood up. I noticed the way he winced and held up the bag in my hand.

“Copy,” Was all I replied.

“Get to Boston. Don’t take the truck.”

“Give me something to work with,” I demanded, taking the Advil out of the bag and tossing it to Jungkook. “I can’t be blind.”

“Cмерть не за горами.”

My entire world stopped spinning. I could hear my heart beating, feel my lungs pushing the air out of my body, while my eyes were frozen. Every single inch of my skin shivered, goosebumps springing up, and I broke out into a cold sweat. This was no heist. 

Hanging up on Jimin, I went to the window above my bed and opened it. Throwing the phone as far as I could, I turned to find Jungkook waiting for instructions. Staring at him, I decided to take a leap of faith.

“Ты один из нас?” I asked.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

Gritting my teeth, I snatched the duffle from him. Jungkook continued waiting for me to tell him what to do. I pointed to my bathroom.

“Take everything from the mirror cabinet and put it in the bag. After that, grab what you can from the wardrobe and stuff it. Only take one pair of shoes and a pair of heels. That’s all I’ll need.”

He got to work quickly. Going back to the bed, I took out my gun and the spare ammo I kept locked up at the very back corner. Placing the ammo in the duffle, I took my first aid kit from the kitchen floor and tossed it in as well. 

“Do you have a gun?” I asked Jungkook.

“Yeah,” He replied. “It’s in the jacket downstairs. I thought you would feel more comfortable if I wasn’t armed.”

Packing my small makeup collection, I felt myself shutting down. Bad girls don’t have feelings, and I was fucking heartless. Yes, I told myself, heartless. It was harder to pretend now than it had been, I was rusty and in desperate need of a distraction. The thought of finding my old family in the shadows was always frightening, but the thought of them looking for me was far more unsettling.

“Done,” Jungkook announced.

Realizing I had zoned out, I quickly put my makeup in the duffle bag and closed it. I had no time to dwell or be afraid. Heartless, Mouse, Heartless. I hated that name. Shaking my head, I pulled myself together enough to sling the duffle over my shoulder. Jungkook went to take it but I held my hand up.

“You’re not carrying this with your injuries. Just take that bag and this-” I handed him my gun. “I don’t know how quick you are but it’s probably better than me. I’m rusty.”

He nodded and we made our way down the stairs. Thinking, I began to categorize the cars that were in the parking lot and on the street. My truck was near the front but the streets were shrouded in light at this time. Jungkook’s bike was also out front. The back had security cameras but was pitch black at this time. I decided the front was the risk I was more willing to take and went through the hallway door on the first floor. Passing the doors, I paid no mind to Jungkook. He was capable and stayed in step with me effortlessly. 

We would drive for a few hours, probably stopping at a diner so I could get another car, and keep going until we hit Arizona or New Mexico. I had not decided yet. Going out the front doors, I waved Jungkook away while I walked down the street. He went to get his jacket but left the bike behind. He was back beside me in a few seconds. 

Crossing the street, I had my eyes on a Honda Accord parked on the curb. It was definitely a ‘97 model. I could start her up in a heartbeat. Unzipping one of the side pockets of my bag, I pulled out a switchblade and zipped it back up. Going to the driver’s side, Jungkook stayed at my back while I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened. Stepping to the side, I gently tapped Jungkook’s back. Turning, he quickly shoved the gun into the backseat as I opened the door. After seeing that the coast was clear, I motioned for him to go around the car while I popped the truck. He said it was fine.

Nodding at him, I got into the car. Kicking the steering wheel, I heard the column lock break before swapping the ECUs. Taking my knife, I ripped off the lower center cover. Getting back out of the car, I opened the backseat and threw my duffle inside. Putting my knife back in its pocket, I opened the long side pocket along the front and pulled out my old screwdriver. This was far from the first jacking I had done.

Getting back into the car, I began to pry the steel cover away. Asking Jungkook for a light, I waited while he pulled out his phone from the pocket of the red jacket. He was lucky no one had taken it. With the flashlight on, I turned the switch from off, past run, to start. The car came to life instantaneously. Waving the light away, I threw the screwdriver into the center console and placed the car in drive. Finally closing the driver’s side door, I peeled off into the night.

The radio came to life and Amy Winehouse sang loudly as I got onto the I-5.

“Til’ the chips were down

Know you were a gambling man.

Love is a losing hand.”

Jungkook was very quiet. I had just followed exit sounds and continued to drive toward Arizona. It was the least exciting state, and the people who lived there were far too judgemental outside of Phoenix, but it was the best way to get to the airport. That airport was far too big and strangely laid out that I knew we would be difficult to pick out in a crowd. Glazing over at Jungkook, he was holding the pack of cigarettes I had bought earlier.

“They’re for Jimin,” I suddenly said, switching lanes. “They were his favorite last time I saw him.”

“I think he’s smoking Camels now,” Jungkook replied.

“Can’t win them all.”

Sighing, I relaxed a bit more in my seat. So far, we have not been followed. Then again, I could be missing something. Tracking was not a strong suit of mine, and in my experience, the Russians were very, very evasive when they wanted to be. Still, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. 

“How do you know the boys in Brighton?” Jungkook asked, voice quiet and soft.

I thought about it for a moment. It was a rather long story, but knowing that we were familiar with the same people made it feel easier. Deciding to probe him for information first, I formed a plan in my head on how to go about this conversation.

“Have you ever heard of the person called Pыбка?” I asked, my American accent showing through. It had been a very, very long time since I had spoken Russian, and even then it had always been a second language that I learned from my time with the Shulaya.

“Ivan’s girl, right? The one who was murdered a few years back? What about her?”

Sparing him a quick glance, I spoke.

“Do I look dead to you?”

Jimin and I had known one another longer than anyone else in The Saints. He had been the last person to join the crew, and was deep within the Shulaya before he went to Jersey to join Hoseok’s team. I would never forget the look on his face the first time he saw me, or the fact that it took him all of ten minutes to get fully committed to keeping me safe. Everyone called me Mouse. Jin had come up with it after joking about me being able to live in someone’s attic and they would never know. It caught on and it was the only name anyone on the streets knew about. The ‘Little Fish’ of Shulaya long forgotten after the first two years of hiding. However, it seemed like my face had been seen by somebody and Ivan was not happy about my disappearing act. 

“Holy shit,” Jungkook said in awe. “We’re so fucked.”

I laughed, “Have some faith. Ivan is scary, but he’s also impulsive. I know him better than most and trust me- he doesn’t know how to keep his cool. Between Boston and NYC, I doubt he’ll get very far into their territory without raising hell.”

Jungkook made a strange noise.

“I’d be far more afraid of Yoongi than any of those Wiseguys.”

Scoffing, I saw the exit I needed to take in order to pull up at the last Holiday Inn before the long stretch of nothing at all. Jungkook seemed to see where my mind was going and began to look out of the window. After briefly going over what food options we had, we landed on Taco Bell. 

Ordering our food was simple enough. Jungkook was a huge tomato hater and was very upset to find that his Crunch Wrap had been ‘ruined.’ The motel seemed to have a few quests and I hoped we could get a room. Jungkook offered to pay. The frontdesk lady was kind and found us a room within 5 minutes. 

Using the elevator, I asked Jungkook if he still had the ‘thing’ with him. He nodded but said no more. It was probably better that way. Throwing my duffle bag onto my bed, I realized that Jungkook was still wearing a dress with the pants he had come inside in. 

Digging through my bag, I found a pair of sweatpants that would fit him well enough as well as an oversized nightshirt I rarely ever wore. I usually slept naked. Tonight, I will try to make my partner feel comfortable.

Throwing the clothes on his bed, Jungkook perked up a bit and seemed to be fine with their sizes. I wondered if he had been wearing more uncomfortable clothes at one time and shook my head. He had walked into this motel wearing that. Yes, Y/N, he has definitely been far more uncomfortable than tightly sweats. 

“You can take the bathroom first,” I pointed to the door. “You need it more than I do.”

Jungkook nodded, “Would you mind helping me get out of this thing? It still hurts to move my arms around too much.

Looking at him, I pinned him with an unimpressed look. We were not having one of those moments. Still looking at Jungkook, I unzipped the pouching with my switchblade in it and pulled the knife out. Walking to Jungkook, I quickly worked on the right side of the fabric. The left side was even quicker. Gently lifting his arm just enough to see his armpit, I cut the short sleeve from the bottom, following up with the top, and up the high neckline. Repeating it on the other side, the blood-soaked garment pooling to the floor. 

Jungkook seemed frozen. Looking at his face, his eyes were wide and staring at the blade in my hand. Thinking he might be uncomfortable with me standing so close to him with a weapon, I walked back to my bed.

“If you need help getting the shirt on, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook replied.

Picking up the spare clothes, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. The water was on a few seconds later. Fully alone in the room, I looked around and decided to throw out the dress. With the torn up dress safely put away in my duffle, I tried to figure out what to do while I waited. 

Taking Jungkook’s phone off of his bed (he used a flip phone just like Yoongi did on the job), I quickly found my way to the contacts. Hovering over Jimin’s number, I paused. Not thinking about it for too long, I pressed it and placed my phone to my ear. He answered quickly.

“Where are you?” Jimin asked, voice very low.

“Are you safe to talk?” I replied, voice just as low.

I could hear the way Jimin rolled his eyes, a small groan leaving his lips.

“I’m fine,” His voice was still soft. “I’m at a casino right now. Did you steal his phone?”

My blood ran cold. Most of our guys loved gambling, but Jimin had always thought it was a dumb pastime. I knew Ivan had been trying to expand the Russian influence in Los Angeles, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing. Jimin tended to run into situations without contemplating everything. Instead of grilling him, I decided to ease his worries.

“We’re safe. Heading east.” I looked around the room distractedly. “And no. I’m using it while he’s taking a shower.”

Jimin sighed in relief, “Kook is a good guy. He’ll keep you safe long enough to make it back to Boston. I’ll be on my way back in a few hours.”

It was better to keep things vague. Just like I had not said where we were headed, Jimin’s answer could mean anything. I heard Jungkook cry out but he was quiet soon after. I hoped the work I had done was keeping. I had told him to keep the stitches covered.

“See you soon,” I forced a smile on my face. “I got you a pack of cigarettes.”

Jimin laughed, though it sounded more forced than normal.

“Stay safe. I have to go.”

I hung up without another word. If he had to go then he had to go. The shower was still running and I was bored again. Looking at the door, I was tempted to walk around for a while. I had a feeling I would get myself into trouble if I did, but I was curious to see if I could get some extra clothes for Jungkook. Possibly a set of car keys, too. Looking at the bathroom door, I figured he was going to be there for a while.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath.

Getting my room key, I slipped out of the room quietly. 

The hallway was deserted, not a body in sight, but I had a feeling I could get something if I looked hard enough. Going to the elevator, I spotted a young couple laughing. Slowing my walk, I was happy to see that they were getting on the elevator.

Angling my body, I was practically jumping up and down when my eye caught on their room key. This would be too easy. The elevator chimed signaling someone was getting off. Quickly moving my body, I relied on their clinginess to sneak into the corridor without a problem. A group of people pooled out of the elevator and I drifted into their numbers.

The couple stood to the side and waited for us to pass. Using my foot, I tripped a young woman in front of me. She stumbled while I placed myself in a position to trip over her. The both of us dropped. The woman fell into the man. Falling, I shuffled closer to the man’s hand while the woman began apologizing profusely.

Quickly snatching the card from him, I slipped it into my pocket while I stood up. Adjusting my clothes, I quickly apologized as well. The couple waved the both of us off, seemingly unbothered, before getting on the elevator. Nodding to the woman, I turned toward the way the couple had come from. Looking at the keycard, I made my way toward the door with the number on it. I was lucky the woman and I had similar hair styles, but I was aware of Holiday Inn well enough to say that most of their cameras did not work.

Glancing up at the camera in the middle of the hallway, I was positive it was not working. Typically there would be a small, red dot that showed it was recording. Today, it was off. Letting myself in, I knew I had to be quick and clean.

Tonight I would only get clothes. Car keys were something I would have to snatch in the morning over breakfast. Someone would notice their keys missing in the middle of the night. Locating a large, black suitcase on the floor by the foot of the bed, I pulled it up onto the bed and unzipped it.

Carefully sifting through the clothes, I only pulled out enough for two outfits before gently placing everything back smoothly. They would probably be a bit big on Jungkook, but I doubted he would mind very much. I swore he was wearing a belt, but I had not been paying enough attention to know for sure. 

Going to the pockets of the bag, I was happy to find a container of hair pomade and hoped it might make Jungkook happy. He would be able to do his hair if he wanted. Grabbing a pack of hair bands and a pair of boxers, I was ready to leave. Going into the dresser, I pulled out the complimentary bag they gave every guest, I shoved the clothes in it before leaving the room. With the keycard in my hand, I dropped it in the spot the couple had been before making my way back to my own room.

Jungkook was sitting on his bed drying his hair when I came in. He was wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt I had given him. I was glad he was able to get it on alone, but I felt bad I had not been here to help him. Holding up the bag, I tossed it his way.

“The first robbery I’ve done in four years,” I shook my head. “You should feel special.”

Jungkook opened the bag and grinned at me. His hair went just past his shoulders when it was wet, his fluffy curls weighed down by the water. Sifting through the bag, he seemed the happiest about the hair ties. 

Getting my own clothes, I let him know I was going to take a shower. Getting under the hot water was a healing experience, and for the first time today I let a few tears slip out.

I was terrified, frustrated, but mostly- pissed.

Twelve years ago

Hands bound, I let my body relax. Ivan’s eyes were blazing, his anger palpable, but I refused to look away. He would never think I was weak again. Walking closer, the Russian yanked me up roughly, one of the straps of my sundress breaking.

“What the fuck did you do?” He seethed, his accent thick and almost incoherent through gritted teeth. “You always ruin everything you touch.”

Slowly, and with great care, I pooled spit into my mouth. With a quick gurgle, I spit in Ivan’s eye. My rebellion had angered just as much as it had excited Ivan. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible, his hands burning my skin. Slamming me down, Ivan roared in anger before delivering a swift kick to my stomach.

Gasping, I tried my hardest to keep the vomit down. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wished I was with Alexei. He would never have treated me like this. As if the thought had transferred over to the man beside me, he kicked me again.

“Alexei is dead, Лох,” He shouted. “You’re mine now.”

With another swift kick, I cried out. Then, without warning my stomach twisted. Another kick. Finally, I threw up all over the concrete floor beneath me. 

For now. I was yours for now.

Present

With a new set of car keys in my hand, I walked into the parking lot. Jungkook was on the phone, but quickly hung up when he saw me approaching. Raising an eyebrow at him, I waved him over and we began walking together. Clicking the unlock button, I smiled when I saw the yellow Porsche. The two of us placed our things inside without a care in the world and drove off quickly after. 

I had found the targets for today the night before while walking around the hotel late last night. It was a young woman and her mother. The two of them had been a whirlwind and gave the staff hell. Unable to sleep, my head headaches from exhaustion, and their bickering only pissed me off more. Unfortunately for them, they had made a big show of their money and decided to brag about their car.

It took a few minutes to switch out license plates and even less time to steal her car keys this morning during breakfast. They were staying for another day and had not planned on leaving the hotel at all. Jungkook laughed once we were a safe distance away.

“I’m still in shock at that woman’s entitlement,” He shook his head. “Did you see the way she flipped out when they ran out of bacon before her ‘precious angel’ could get any?”

Chuckling, I kept my attention on the road.

“Her attitude was the only reason I swiped this thing. I would never get into something so obvious.”

“It was as easy as stealing candy from a baby.”

Feeling confident from the jacking, I decided to play along.

“Do you steal from babies often?”

Jungkook giggled cutely, “I’ve cut down to twice a year.”

“Oh?”

“Halloween-” He counted with one finger, and lifted another, “-and Easter.”

“Easter?” My eyebrows pulled in as I laughed incredulously.

Jungkook grinned lazily. 

“Stockings are so last year.”

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to think of him as a member of the mafia. While my age had made others test my abilities far more often than the others I never believed anyone doubted who I was. There was a look in your eye, this coldness, that separated you from the rest. I could pick out a killer in a line up- we were one in the same. However, Jungkook was impossible to get a read on. His boyish charms and good looks were not uncommon, but the innocence in his smile and the brightness that remained in his eyes were unsettling. Everything about him was unnerving. He was disarming and that alone was frightening.

Realizing the car had become quiet, I turned the radio on. It was a habit of mine. I did not like the silence. I hated it. Some trashy pop song blasted but I did not care. Jungkook did and began to look for something he liked more.

“What do you like?” He asked, pressing the screen to change the stations.

“Pick whatever,” I replied, flipping off the guy who cut me off.

Arizona was the worst state I had ever been to. The drive was not as awful as Texas, nothing will ever beat the twelve hours of hell to still be in that damned state, but it was not much better. Outside of Phoenix the towns were not as grand. Tucson gave her a run for her money, but never came close to the busy city. Driving through the desert, I asked Jungkook to pull up the directions to the airport. I no longer knew my way.

“How did you meet the guys?” I asked, eyes on the road.

Jungkook picked a pop station and leaned back in his seat.

“Through Jimin,” He replied. “They needed help dealing with someone. I had just left New York and we ran into each other in Vegas. I liked everyone so I decided to join.”

Raising an eyebrow, I quickly turned my head so he could see my expression.

“Ivan let you leave?”

“I wasn’t a member,” Jungkook mumbled. “Just an acquaintance. I was for hire.”

That was not what I had expected. Jungkook did not seem like a killer, but I had been proven wrong many times. When I lived with my parents I had met many assassins I would have never guessed who they were just looking at them. Even talking with them it was impossible to detect. Looking at the man, I found it hard to believe that we were from the same background. While I had ran from that life, Jungkook ran toward it with open arms. In fact, he seemed to pay it little mind.

“What family are you from?” I asked. “My family was under The Table.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re from the Underground?”

I nodded, “I never really wanted that life. I’m a much better thief anyway.”

Jungkook rubbed his bottom lip. I forced myself to focus on the road. Even if we were the only people out here, I did not want to risk anything. I had stolen the car and the plate and getting stuck out here would be hell.

“I’m with Sacarii.”

The Sacarii was the sister organization to The Table. While my family had mostly dealt with members of gangs and high profile families, members of the Sacarii were the people who went after other assassins. Stealing another look at Jungkook, I looked at the tattoos on his arm and tried to find his symbol. All of us got one, mine was a tiger on my right side, but the ink was too difficult to look at while driving.

“I have a tiger lily,” Jungkook said, noticing my assessment. “I have a few of them, actually.”

Lilies are from Japan, but I knew Jungkook was Korean. His name alone gave him away. Waving my hand, I asked him to explain when he got it.

“My family moved to Japan when I was fifteen. I had my first kill there so we decided that I would get something to represent that. The prayer hands on my back were done by the organization after the ordainment.”

Ordainments were very common. It was the process an assassin went through to become an official member of their organization. Their families were no longer defined by blood but the common experiences each one shared. The Table and the Sacarii were one big family, but oftentimes we did not get along with one another. Civil at best and competition at worst. Prayer hands with a rosary were the tattoos everyone got. It was large, covering the entire center of the back, with the family oath written above and below it. 

“I never got mine,” I admitted. “I ran off before my ceremony. That’s when I met Alexei.”

“How old were you?”

Smiling sadly, I replied. “Thirteen.”

“Oh,” He said. “I didn’t know they got people that young.”

“Well, he saw me kill someone and wanted to keep me. I doubt you knew him- he died a few years ago.”

Jungkook nodded, “Yeah. What was he like?”

Laughing, I spotted a gas station and decided to stop. We were at half a tank, but I wanted to be safe. Jungkook took out his wallet and handed me a twenty. 

“He was a better man than his brother,” I answered, taking the money. “He knew how to stay calm and respect other people. Alexei always kept good relationships with the other families. Ivan is an idiot who can’t handle criticisms of any kind.”

“He’s that awful? I mean, I only know him through brief meetings.”

“I’d rather be dead than serve him again,” I opened my door. “But you already know that.”

Settling in my seat, I glanced over at Jungkook. He looked tired and I let him know it was fine to sleep. He nodded and slipped his eyes closed shortly after. Taking my new phone out of my pocket, I decided to make a quick phone call before we took off. Jungkook and I had picked up a flip phone from Walmart on our way to the airport. It was more secure than any smartphone. Dialing the number, I waited.

“Hello?” Hoseok picked up.

“I’m landing in Massachusetts,” I replied, knowing he was aware of the situation by now. It had been a day and a half. “Pick me up at our spot.”

“Jin will be there.”

“Copy.”

Hoseok sighed heavily, “Is the kid okay? Heard you shook him up.”

Glancing at Jungkook, I was shocked he was snoring. 

“He’s fine,” I replied. “He’s definitely in pain, and tries to keep his movement to a minimum, but hides it from me. Attempts to, I should say.  I took care of him as best I could but Agust should get his hands on his ASAP.”

Hoseok hummed and I knew he was nodding. He was a very animated, lively person and could not sit still for long. He got into a fist fight with a Russian who took offense to his hand movements. 

“See you when I see you.”

“Three o’clock,” I said before hanging up.

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I finally buckled my seat. Shaking Jungkook awake, I told him to put his belt on. He grinned at me lazily before doing it. He fell asleep again quickly. 

Happy to have a window seat, I watched as we began to take off. It had been a while since I was on a plane. The last time was when I was running to California as quickly as I could. Kansas had been nice when I had first left The Saints, but it quickly became suffocating. The silence and mundane town life made my skin crawl. California had seemed like it would be better, more fun, but it had become just as mundane after a while. 

I had always gotten bored easily. It was why I enjoyed pickpocketing. As a kid, my little hands and unassuming looks had made it easy. I never planned on getting good at it. At the time it felt less damning in comparison to what the people in my life wanted me to do. 

There was a time when I was happy killing, pleasing my family had always felt good, but that faded when my teenage years approached. Running away to New York was a quick, impulsive decision I had made when I was afraid of my future. Staring at the clear, blue sky, I scoffed. 

I had run away from one hell into another. I went from that one into another. The Saints were my family, but I would be lying if I said I felt they were any different from what I had always done. Kansas had been my first attempt at normalcy, and San Diego had been me living in that world.

And I loved it, in my own way. It was nice to have a routine. It felt good to have friends, even if they were the most surface level friendships I could allow myself to have, and I owned my own things. I had earned what I had. 

Now I was flying back to a place I was not sure I belonged anymore. I felt two halves of myself fighting one another. One half wanted to run again, to disappear, and get as far away from this place as possible. Then there was the other side of me, the twisted, dark, nasty side of myself that was reveling in all of this. My excitement was hard for me to figure out, and I began to doubt myself.

Had I ever really wanted this life? Has it all been a dream? A fantasy of a perfectly serene, normal, and legal lifestyle I had never known? Finding a cloud, I rubbed my temples and sighed. 

I doubted I would ever have an answer to that question.

Five years ago

Standing around the table, all of us went over the plan again. They were doing construction on the roof, so that would be the quickest, and easiest, point of entrance. I would go first while Hoseok and Jin dressed as police officers to take out the security guards in the back. Taehyung would take care of the cameras before this. Yoongi would follow behind me along with Jimin. I would lead the team after we had taken over the museum.

Looking over at Jimin, he was already looking at me. Everyone knew that this would be my last mission, and he had taken it the worst. We hardly spoke and he actively ignored me. I was surprised he was acknowledging me at all. Breaking eye contact, I went back to explaining the pieces we would be taking.

“Don was very specific about these three pieces,” I said, pointing to the Rembrandt and two pieces of jewelry. “These are our high payouts. Get these first. After that we can make quick work of the rest.”

“Who did you say the others were going to?” Yoongi asked.

“The rest are split up between some vendors I know,” I replied. “Freddie Newman, Diane Pollack, and Dwayne Smith. The jewels are for Georgie Boy, Archie, and two others. Park’s handling that.”

“This is a big job,” Hoseok mumbled. “Will the six of us be able to get it done?”

I nodded easily. 

“Yes, we’ll have all the time in the world once those guards are taken care of. I’m planning on this being an hour- two at most.”

Looking back at Jimin, I was happy to see he was grinning at me. We would be fine. Deciding we had gone over everything, I walked away from the table. 

“We’ll leave at midnight.”

“Copy,” Jimin replied.

Smiling to myself, I left the room and went to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Getting off the plane, I kept Jungkook close as we made our way to baggage claim. Being on the East Coast again was uncomfortable. I knew this airport like the back of my hand, knew every nook and cranny of these streets, but I still felt out of place. I was even more unsettled knowing there were people looking for me. 

Standing by the conveyor belt, we waited for my duffle bag to come out. Jungkook looked around, his scouting looking natural, and I kept my eyes on the bags. It came out a few minutes later, and I slung it over my shoulder. Jungkook wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him.

“They’re here,” He whispered, a soft smile on his face. Lips brushing the top of my head, he started walking and kept me close. “They don’t know me, so we’ll be fine.”

Forcing a smile on my face, I wrapped my arm around his waist. My heartbeat quickened, and I found myself enjoying the way his body pressed into mine. Allowing myself a small glance around us, I saw two familiar faces near the escalators. Dimitri and Anton. As we neared the escalators, I knew they would notice me unless I acted very differently than what they remembered. 

Deciding to commit to our charade, I lifted my head up towards Jungkook. Kissing his cheek, I was able to hide my face from the two men. Jungkook stepped onto the elevator first. Turning him to face me, I grabbed his face and pressed our lips together. He was soft, gentle, and tasted like the licorice he’d gotten on the plane. He wrapped his arms around my waist and melted into the kiss. Pulling away, head pressed against his, I looked at the steps. 

“We’re almost at the top,” I mumbled.

Jungkook nodded and slowly moved away from me. Angling his body towards the front, he kept an arm firmly around my waist as we got to the top. Sparing a single glance behind me, the two men were none the wiser. Smirking, I ran my hand up and down Jungkook’s back in silent praise. 

Walking further and further away from the others, Jungkook’s arm did not move. I stayed close to his side, happy to have someone to lean on. It made sense now. Jimin sent him because he was less known to the others. Ivan would know him, and the people closest to him, but someone like Anton would be blindsided by his presence. They were expecting one of my boys. Stepping into the sun, the two of us were quick to hail down a taxi and slip inside. 

“We’re running a bit late,” I announced, buckling in. “Can you take us to the Hood Milk Bottle?”

“No problem,” The cab driver replied.

It was barely a 10 minute drive, but airport traffic made it feel like forever. Jungkook and I did not talk. Our closeness from earlier was officially stopped, and I felt silly for missing his warmth. Looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I grew shy. Just moments ago, his arms were wrapped around me. Catching sight of the tiger lily on his elbow, I had to quickly look back out of the window.

God, he was fucking hot.

Pulling out my phone, I found a new message on it. 

Unknown: Eating a lobster roll outside

Rolling my eyes, I replied.

Y/N: Of course you are. Two minutes.

Unknown: Lunch on me

Flipping the phone closed, I shoved it back in my back pocket. Looking out of the window, I did feel nostalgic. It had been such a long time and yet things stayed the same. There were a few new shops where old ones used to be, but the places I remembered the most fondly were still around. The mixed feelings I had were beginning to weigh down on me. 

Pulling up, I smiled. Hood was such an iconic, fun place. Looking back at Jungkook, I was touched to see him paying the cabby. Saying goodbye, the two of us got out of the car. The duffle had been in my lap. Jungkook stared up at the giant milk bottle in awe.

“Jin said he'll buy us lunch.”

Jungkook smirked, “What do you recommend?”

Walking toward the snack stand, I shrugged my shoulders.

“I’m getting a lobster roll, but if you’re not into that, the soft serve is great.”

Walking around the side, I saw Jin sitting on one of the picnic benches eating. I was more surprised to see he was still enjoying his food than the purple hair. Jimin must have convinced him to do that. Whistling, I smirked at Jin and waved.

Jin was the oldest out of all of us, and spoke the least amount of English, but we were close. Standing, he offered me a hug which I happily accepted. Clearing my throat, I began speaking in Korean.

“You look nice,” I ruffled his hair. “This color looks really good on you.”

“Thanks,” He shoved my hand away. “Lobster roll? Thought you might have missed the New England taste.”

Nodded, I turned to Jungkook.

“What do you want?” I asked in English.

He shook his head at me, “Chocolate ice cream.”

When he spoke Korean, his voice was much deeper. Grinning at him, I looked back at Jin.

“One lobster roll and one chocolate soft serve.”

Going to order our food, Jin told us to sit and wait. Jungkook sat down next to me, his elbow on the table with his head resting on his fist. I was unsure of what to make of the look on his face. He seemed so… fond of me. No one had ever really looked at me like that before. I was used to anger, annoyance, or fear, but fondness was uncharted territory. The closest person I could think of had been Alexi, but even then he had always looked at me as a child. Jungkook did not.

“I didn’t know you spoke Korean,” He said, speaking the language.

“I know a lot of languages,” I replied. “I’m mostly fluent in English and Russian. My Korean is good, but I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination. I speak a decent amount of Spanish as well.”

“That’s so cool. Mine are Korean, Japanese, and English.”

Jin was back with our food. 

“Eat it in the car,” He said, “Everyone is waiting for us.”

“Is Park back in town?” Jungkook asked.

Jin shook his head, “Not yet. We haven’t heard from since yesterday.”

I knew we would talk more once we were out of the public eye. There was only so much we could say out here. Taking my roll, I followed Jin. Jungkook ate his ice cream happily, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was my turn to smile fondly. 

Pulling into a small driveway, I was confused. I did not recognize the house. Painted a calming sky blue with black shutters, a well-groomed lawn, and a small flower garden, it was unassuming and plain. Looking over at Jungkook, he seemed happy to be here. 

“Where are we?” I asked.

Jungkook smiled at me, “Yoongi’s.”

Taken aback, I froze. That had been the last person I had thought of. The last time I had seen everyone, Yoongi and Hoseok were living in a shitty condo in South End. While I was confused, and even unsettled, by the changes I was also pleased. It felt good to see Yoongi living more civilly. I wondered what had changed.

Hopping out of the Jeep, I met up with Jin and Jungkook at the hood before following behind them. The house was pristine and the small cul de sac was quiet. Eyes bulging out of my head, I fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the sight of a bird feeder on the edge of the lawn. 

Standing on the small porch, the three of us huddled close together. Jungkook gently moved my body in front of his, successfully shielding my body from the street. Leaning back slightly, I brushed my back against his chest quickly before straightening my back. I was beginning to lean into my growing attraction, but knew better than to take it any further than small touches. The airport had been for survival- nothing more. 

Jin knocked, the rhythm the only familiar thing about this place, before the door swung open. On the other side, a woman peered out at us. Her hair was short, wildly frizzy with unkempt curls, and bright red. Her eyes were brown and skin alabaster. The green dress she wore looked nice on her full figure. She smiled brightly at Jin, saying hello with joy. Her voice had hints of an accent but it was too faint for me to pick up.

“It’s nice to see you Johanna,” Jin greeted, kissing the woman’s cheek before gesturing towards me. “Johanna, Mouse. Mouse, Johanna.”

The red head gave me a polite smile before offering her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mouse.”

“Y/N,” I corrected, glaring at Jin. “Y/N is fine outside of business.”

“This is business though, isn’t it?” Johanna tilted her head at me, a mischievous glint in her eye. I decided right away that I liked her. “Come in. Hello Kookie.”

“Hey Jo,” The man replied.

Stepping inside, I looked around. The inside was just as perfect as the outside. Brightly colored walls with pops of color scattered around, mostly in the art hanging on the walls, with plants everywhere. It smelled like apple cinnamon and Pinesol. The hardwood floors were loud as we walked along them. The size of the living room was bigger than my entire apartment. Catching sight of a collage of photos, I looked over them the best I could as I walked.

All of them were nice photos, family photos, but one caught my eye. Yoongi was smiling, a rare sight, and his eyes were shining brightly. He was on the beach, arms wrapped around Johanna tenderly, while she had a large bouquet of flowers in her hand. She wore a white dress that hit her just at the ankle, a long, thin veil clipped onto the back of her head. The Saints were there along with a few people I did not recognize. Belatedly, I realized that I was looking at a wedding picture. A wedding I had missed. A wedding I had never been invited to. A wedding I had never even knew. Eyes glued to the photo, I cause a glimpse of Jungkook in a far-off corner, almost completely cut out, but he had been there. 

I knew my hurt feelings were unjustified. I had been the one who told them to leave me out of their affairs. I had said emergencies only. Still, I found myself growing increasingly alienated. I truly had no place here anymore. The only purpose I had ever served was monetary gain. The friendships I had built along the way were as fickle as the ones I had in New York. 

Arguing with myself, I struggled to stay present. As we walked deeper into the house, the need to run presented itself all over again. Everything I had known was gone. Everyone was different. Everything was different. Sparing a glance over at Jungkook, a seed of resentment began to grow in my chest. 

No one had ever referred to me as affectionately as they had Jungkook. No one had ever seemed endeared by my failures. Hell, none of these guys even acknowledged my feelings half the time. Staring at the back of Johanna’s head, I found that I didn't really like her that much anymore. She was loved. I was tolerated.

Still, I told myself that they had come for me. They had wanted to keep me safe. And yet, the insecurities that had always lived in my head reared their ugly head and reminded me that it was for their own good. I was useful. As long as I would be of use to them, then I would be protected. It would never be the same reasons they would fight for Johanna. They would fight for her because they wanted to keep her safe.

I could feel eyes on me, but I ignored them. I did not want comfort from Jungkook. I just wanted to get this over with so I could go back to San Diego. Even if they were surface level, those friendships were still more loving than whatever the fuck I had here. I hated Boston. I hated New York. I hated the entire East Coast. 

“Y/N?” Johanna called out, looking back at me with concern. “Are you alright?”

Nodding, I replied. 

“I’m fine. Just lost in my head.”

I hated the edge my voice had taken on. I hated just how much I had to control myself around these people. I wanted to scream, shout, cry; whatever. I just wanted to feel myself lose control for a little while. The woman did not believe me but offered me a smile regardless. 

“I asked if you would like a drink.”

“Water’s fine,” I replied.

Jin seemed suspicious of me but said nothing at all. He had always known I liked my space. Still, I could tell he was worried. I knew my thoughts were out of line, I knew that I was over thinking and attempting to overcompensate, but it was impossible to stop it from happening. The downward spiral was difficult to manage. 

Suddenly, an arm was wrapped around my shoulder. Jumping, I whipped my head around to see Jungkook smiling at me. It was a goofy smile, one that he pulled when he was feeling playful, before he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What happens when you get water on a table?” He asked.

Taken aback, I opened and closed my mouth several times.

“What?”

“It becomes a pool table.”

Mouth agape, I blinked in disbelief before shoving him away. I let out a small laugh and shook my head at him. Where in the world had that come from?

Seokjin was laughing, hands clapping, and praising the younger man for the joke. Jin was a big fan of dad jokes and enjoyed making them up whenever he could. Typically, you would have to know enough Korean for them to make sense, but they never failed to get a few chuckles out of me. The ridiculousness of the jokes coupled with the corny delivery was always funny. Johanna placed a glass in front of me smiling fondly at Jungkook.

“He’s a mess,” She said, looking at me in faux exasperation. “I don’t know how you survived the trip here. He talks too much.”

Shaking my head, I took a large sip of the water.

“It’s better than the awkward silence Yoongi brings along.”

She laughed, knocking her head back.

“Touche,” She giggled. “He is a bit intense sometimes.”

“You’ve been in Boston for an hour and you’re already turning my wife against me.”

The voice had come from behind me. Spinning around dumbly, I was face-to-face with Yoongi. The scar on his face was just as prominent as it had always been, taking up his entire left cheek into forehead, but his eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. He was skinnier than the last time I saw him, too. He was wearing a simple black shirt with a pair of jeans. He seemed completely at ease. 

“Hey kid,” He greeted Jungkook with a grin. “Heard Mouse got you good.”

Jungkook flushed, ducking his head while rubbing his neck.

“Oh?” Jin chimed, his voice mocking. “The great Sacarii taken down by a little mouse?”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily.

“He didn’t even try anything,” I admitted. “I was the aggressive one.”

“He was just an idiot,” Jin teased.

Yoongi tsked, “Park was the bigger idiot of the two. He’s going to give me an aneurysm.”

“You’re too hard on him,” Johanna gently scolded. “You know Jimin has a roundabout way of being right.”

 Jungkook laughed, “A broken clock’s right twice a day.”

A silence fell over our group. It felt unnatural to be standing in a nice kitchen talking over mundane topics with everyone. It was a long ways away from the roach infested alleyways and closed off apartment complexes. I lived with Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung when I was in Boston. Our small one bedroom was always cluttered, overcrowded, and was the main spot for our meetups. The conference room had been stuffed between two twin-sized mattresses with a large, round table in the middle of it all. I slept on the pull-out sofa in the front. 

“I guess we should talk,” Yoongi said, looking me up and down. 

“I guess so,” I replied.

Walking over to him, I realized that no one else was following. Looking back at the other three, they simply looked back. Sighing, I let it go. Being alone with Yoongi was not an unwelcome thing, but it had always made me feel like I was in trouble. Laughing at myself, I followed the man out of the kitchen and into the dining room. This time I was the one who was in trouble. 

Walking out of the dining room, we were now in a small reading room with a staircase. A green, stand-up piano was tucked away between tall bookshelves and more plants. Following Yoongi upstairs, I refrained from looking too closely at things. The house was much bigger than it looked. Walking past a few doors, we stopped before Yoongi opened one. 

Gesturing me to follow, I smiled at the sight of the old table. It was far too large, held six chairs, and was cheaply made. Someone had refurbished it and I wondered if it had been Johanna. She seemed to like everything to be nice and neat. It was an aesthetically pleasing layout, but this room was all Yoongi. The dark colored walls and furniture were in stark contrast to the otherwise white house. Taking a seat at the table, I pulled out the chair directly across from him.

There was a line up of photos scattered on the desk along with a few letters. I recognized two of the women but the others were unfamiliar to me. Looking around, I scowled when I saw a picture of Ivan. I would be lying if I said he was physically unattractive. Ivan had always had this air around him and coupled with his angular features and blue eyes it was no wonder why women chased him. I knew him, however, and the slope of his cheekbones and the perfectly groomed dirty-blonde hair did nothing but repulse me. He looked everything like his brother. He looked nothing like his brother.

Picking the photo up, I looked closely. It was candid. Someone had been hiding when they took it since the man seemed to be unaware of the camera. He was smoking a cigarette and behind him was a beach. Trying to figure out where he could be was hard, but it was nowhere near New York. It was too sunny, the waves too high, and I could see a surfer in the background. 

“Johanna took that,” Yoongi suddenly said. “We were in California. It’s where we got married.”

Mind racing, I kept looking at the picture. Ivan had been close to me. Very close, in fact. Trying to figure out how I could have been traced, I thought of Kimberly and winced. It would take no time at all to figure out if it really was me. He could just send some random into the salon after seeing a post. I looked different but I was still me. He could have scouted out the place for months without me being any wiser. Closing my eyes, I dropped the photo.

“He’s known where you are for a while,” He continued. “He had asked Jungkook to take care of you a few weeks ago, but the kid refused. He knew your face. Ivan’s been trying to figure out the best plan of getting to you without pissing us off.”

“So he thought forcing me back to New York was the best option?” I spat.

Yoongi nodded, “In his mind, you’d be under his claim again so we’d have no authority. Either he’s crazy or stupid.”

“Both,” I replied. “Always both.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Eyes searching the pictures for more signs, I grew angry. 

“Why are you only just now telling me?” I demanded, picking apart each detail of the photographs. “I should have known from the very beginning.”

“I thought so, too,” Yoongi defended. “It was Jimin telling us to cool it. He thought he could get it under control since he’s known Ivan for so long. It didn’t work out and Jimin was kicked out of the family.”

“What?” I shouted.

Ivan was losing his damn mind. Jimin was the closest thing to Alexi those boy had after Ivan took over. They loved him, I loved him, and to watch him get kicked out over me would have been a massive blow to Ivan’s credibility. Loyalty was gone from New York it seemed, and it would only be a matter of time before Ivan came to the same conclusion. They don’t make them like Jimin anymore. He was only trying to keep the peace. Thinking of my friend, I willed back my tears. He had wanted me to stay in California. He didn’t want me to come back.

“They’re not doing well,” Yoongi admitted. “Georgie Boy and I talked and he’s with us regardless. The Italians haven’t been appreciating Ivan’s ways either. Hoseok spoke with the Gambinos and they said they’ll light up the Russians if they get into their territory again.”

“Again?”

Yoongi smiled without humor.

“Ivan’s boys were selling in the Gambino’s turf. Didn’t end well for them. They aren’t going to tolerate that shit again, and the other families are on the lookout as well. Have to say, the boy has lost his fucking mind.”

Going over the information, I felt more confident than I had before. Ivan was hoping to get me back into his arms first. Then he’d kill me. Or keep me. It was impossible to know for sure. Either way, he had a rude awakening if he thought my boys were going to let it happen without consequences. Thinking back to my thoughts when I first came inside, I reminded myself that we were connected. I meant more to them than property. They weren’t Ivan. 

They weren’t Alexei either.

Shoving that thought down, I refocused on the photo of Ivan. He looked worse than I had last seen him. His age was beginning to show, and I sneered at the sight of the family tattoo. I had been claimed by many groups in my life. The tiger for my family, the slope-edged star on my collar bone for Alexei, the clerk on my ribs for my skill with a blade, and St. Anthony for The Saints. Ivan’s name had been cut into my skin by the man himself after I killed a rival without permission. The scars were faded now, but I never liked to show my stomach anymore. You could still see the carving and I would always know they were there. 

 Eyes zeroing in on Ivan’s calf, I saw red as I caught sight of the dagger entwined by a snake. It was in the same spot as mine. They all represented something. 

The star was commonplace for all Russians while my clerk was far more specialized. I got it after I helped Alexei take care of a snitch. I hated thinking about that night, but it earned me my stripes. I got my dagger a few months later. The dagger was rare, only given out to a leader of a “suit” of thieves. Alexi had promoted me, and I controlled my own section of New York alongside him. Ivan did not deserve that tattoo even if he was the boss.

“Can I ask you something?” Yoongi said.

I nodded.

“Why would he want you back so badly? He hates you.”

I smiled ruefully, looking up from the picture. 

“I’m Alexei’s girl and he finds great pleasure in keeping me around just to spite him. Even if he’s dead, it’ll never be enough. Breaking me down was always the goal.”

“Were you and Alexei…”

Yoongi did not need to finish the sentence. It was a fair question and one that everyone asked at some point. The Saints never liked picking into my past too much. They knew it had been rough, they knew what Ivan and I’s relationship was like, so they put it to rest. Yoongi had seen my stomach once, said he was going to kill him one day, and never brought it up again. Latching onto the memory, I further reinforced that they cared for me. This was not a dangerous place. These are my friends.

“No, Alexei would never. I was only 13 when we met. He was 19. We were like siblings more than anything. More than he and Ivan ever were.”

“Ivan was jealous?” I nodded. “Typical.”

“He’s the one who killed him, you know,” I leaned back in the chair. “I was there that night. That’s why Ivan hates me. I know too much.”

Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. It was a completely different world than he was used to. The Irish took care of their own. While it may have involved violence and punishments being handed out from time to time, there had always been unwavering loyalty to one another. For Hoseok it was the same. Snitches were snitches but you always had people you knew were on your corner. When Ivan saw an in he took it, even if it meant killing his older brother, and everyone suffered for it. I had not said anything out of the code of ethics we built, but that never stopped word from spreading. Everyone knew Ivan killed Alexei but no one could prove it.

Yoongi sucked his teeth, “They know you came home. Jimin let us know about that. He and Kai have been all over this shit.”

I hummed, “They had a couple guys at the airport. Jungkook and I got past them easily, though.”

Yoongi looked at me strangely now. It was in between concern and pride, but I figured it was the closest thing to friendly I would get from him. It was not his fault his face looked the way it did. Wanting to lighten the mood, I decided to ask him about his wife.

“So, who’s Johanna?”

Yoongi actually cracked a smile.

“She’s a nuclear engineer. Works at BU and moved to America seven years ago.”

“How’d that even happen?”

Yoongi shrugged, “I don’t even know. We met at a restaurant Georgie took me to. She was there with some friends. We bumped into one another and she gave me her number. I didn’t call but we ran into each other again at a bar. Stuck like glue ever since.”

Gently smiling I replied, “Sounds nice. I’m glad you found someone.”

Yoongi looked down bashfully. He was like an entirely new person now. Yoongi had never been one to show emotions outside of anger and annoyance. Even with us he had been a hardass. It was strange but nice at the same time. I liked it more than the robot I was used to.

“She’s a good person,” He whispered, suddenly serious. “Sometimes I wonder if I should have left her alone. She deserves better than a life of crime and being entangled in my bullshit.”

I understood where he was coming from.

“You could always leave. Runaway to Iceland and never look back.”

Yoongi grinned, “I thought about it but I don’t have any skills outside of this. What would I do? Unlike you, some of us have never thought past our horizons. Besides, I have other people to think about.”

I also understood that as well. I had been afraid of change for a long time, and I had known I wanted it for a while. I was unsure how long they had known one another, or had been together, but Yoongi had always said he’d die in Boston. I doubted he thought that way now. 

“It’s okay to be selfish,” I mumbled. “Things haven’t been easy and there were times when I missed the craziness, but I can say it’s an experience everyone should have. I love both of my lives, but I’d be lying if I said I’d choose this over California.”

Yoongi nodded in thought. We would drop this conversation and likely never pick it back up again, so I knew I should say my peace now. Whatever he decided to do would ultimately be on his shoulders, but I thought it would be okay to push him to follow his heart’s desires. I was a dreamer and I hoped the others would find a dream to hold onto as well.

Walking downstairs, I was tired. The traveling had finally caught up to me and I wanted to get some rest while I could. Walking into the kitchen, the three of them were still talking. Johanna had started to cook something. It smelled nice but my stomach churned at the thought of food. Making my presence known, I yawned loudly and stretched my arms above my head.

“Sleepy?” Jungkook asked, completely at ease. 

He looked right at home here. Briefly I wondered if he stayed here often enough for that to be the case. Yoongi hated other people in his space, but he had changed since I last saw him. Jungkook, however, did not seem like someone who would like living with other people. He was mostly quiet, sweet, but standoffish at times. Jin grinned at me.

“Sorry to say I’m full,” The older man took a sip from a glass. I could not tell what it was and did not care to know. I rubbed my eyes dramatically and yawned again. “Jimin and I are rooming together. I doubt you want to take the sofa. Let’s just say I’ve been taking advantage of his absence.”

“I’ll take what I can get at this point,” I replied with another yawn. Shaking my head, I groaned. “God, I hate it when that happens.”

“Jungkook can keep you,” Johanna offered. “I’d let you stay here but my niece is spending the weekend. I don’t want to put her in a bad position.”

I knew what she meant. I would not want to put a child in the middle of this bullshit either. Looking over at Jungkook, I raised my eyebrow in silent questioning. He nodded back at me with a grin. I smiled back at him.

“We should go while we have daylight,” Jungkook said, a pair of keys in his hands.

I had no idea where they had come from.

“I can wait,” I protested. “You should eat first.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. You haven’t slept since yesterday.”

“Y/N!” Jin scolded.

I non committedly waved him off. Scrunching my face up at Jin, I mumbled something close to ‘leave me alone,’ but I was doubtful it came out properly. Fighting to keep my eyes open, I leaned into Jungkook’s side as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. Guiding me away from the kitchen, I knew I heard Jin make a comment about how close we were.

“You’re just jealous she likes me more than you,” Jungkook snapped back.

“Does not,” Jin replied, childishly whining.

Johanna laughed and I could hear Yoongi coming down the stairs. Jungkook lead me back into the reading room and turned left. Going down two steps we were in front of a door.

“Be safe!” Johanna called out.

“Always, noona,” Jungkook replied.

Leading me to the room, I realized we were in a garage. I was again surprised. There were two cars, both of them very nice and sleek, surrounded by expensive tools and equipment. Back in the day, I would have swiped everything in this room and stole one of the cars. Now, I was being led toward the black Marcedes on the farthest side of the room. 

“This one’s mine,” Jungkook said, attempting to fill the space.

“First one we haven’t stolen,” I joked.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I melted into the seat before Jungkook was in the vehicle. Opening the glovebox, I moved my legs out of the way as the man dug around the compartment. Finally he pulled a smartphone out and quickly turned it on. A few minutes later, the garage door was opening and we were pulling out of the large driveway. We passed Jin’s Jeep on the way out and Jungkook could not help but make a snide comment about the ugly car. I felt comfortable enough to try and fall asleep.

“You know,” Jungkook announced, making my eyes snap open. “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever worked with.”

I chuckled, my drowsiness making it difficult to focus. 

“Thanks. You’re not that bad.”

“I’ve been useless for the entire trip,” Jungkook argued. “You stole the cars, got me clothes, made sure we were able to get flights without getting into some shit for it, and you always tried to make me feel more comfortable.”

Snorting, I looked over at the man.

“I shot you.”

Jungkook burst out laughing.

“I broke into your house.”

“Eye for an eye,” I offered, laughing.

Jungkook spared me a look in order to flash one of his blinding smiles. I noticed now that his front teeth were slightly bigger than they should be. 

“Really,” Jungkook was serious again. “I feel bad for being dead weight. I’ll make it up to you, though. I’m not really known for stealing cars or running off into the night, but I know how to kill someone.”

Looking at me again, Jungkook’s boyish smile and light eyes were on. In their place were hard lines, a slightly down-turned pout, and a coldness that surrounded him I was unaccustomed to. While earnest, his expression felt wrong. Jungkook was sunshine and this felt like an eclipse.

“No one is going to touch you. I’ll cut their fucking hands off finger-by-finger if need be to get my point across.”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, confused.

We did not know one another. Hell, I shot this fucking guy. And yet here he was devoting his life to keeping me safe. It was crazy. Then again, this life was like that. Putting myself in Jungkook’s shoes, I thought about it the other way around. Would I kill for him?

“Because you’re my friend,” He answered without hesitation. “You’re my friend and I would like to get to know you better.”

Yes, I thought, I would kill for this kid.

Humming, I decided against saying anything else. I was far too tired for this conversation. Letting my body win, I closed my eyes and leaned against the car window. I fell asleep quickly, but I found no peace. Ivan’s face flashed through my mind, his eyes alight with anger, and my blood was all over his hands. My screams echoed in the background. He placed his knife against my skin again and drew a “V” right next to the “I.”

Eleven years ago

Standing beside Hoseok, I stared up at the apartment complex wearily. It was small, bricked, and disgusting. I could smell trash and smoke everywhere and people were yelling. I did not like it here. Not at all.

Looking over at the older boy, I made sure to show him my discontent. I could admit that South End was nicer than my old place in Brooklyn, but only for the quieter atmosphere. Everything else was just as nasty. Hoseok shoved me forward and scolded me for acting like a “freak.”

“People are going to know you’re new,” Hoseok complained. “Then  I’m going to have to break their fucking head open for stepping out of line. Then Yoongi is going to dislike you. So, just fucking walk and keep your head down.”

Anger flaring, I stopped. Hoseok bumped into my back. Groaning loudly, he went to yell at me again. Scowling, I elbowed him in the stomach harshly. When he groaned and grabbed his stomach, I turned around and punched him in the face. While he barely moved, eating the hit easily, it seemed to get the message across.

“Don’t talk to me like that, bitch,” I seethed. “You’re not my dad.”

Waiting for Hoseok to hit me back, I stood there with my fists balled up. He looked at me intensely, his hands still clutching his stomach. His eyes went from my face to the small patch of exposed skin on my stomach. Knowing exactly what he was looking at, I pulled down the too-short shirt and yelled at him again to hit me.

Instead of violence, Hoseok simply took up straight. Breathing through his nostrils, he seemed to be calming himself down. I could see the start of a blackeye forming where I had hit him. My regret began eating away at me instantly, but I refused to back down. He deserved that hit. He needed to know I was not going to be his little plaything. 

Hoseok just continued to walk, telling me to follow, and I could tell he was trying to be nicer this time around. Confused and more uneasy than before, I kept my hands ready for a fight. I was not sure when this nice-guy act would stop.

Being shaken awake, I realized we were at Jungkook’s. Glancing at the time, I was shocked we had driven almost two hours. We were parked in a small lot with a large brick building to the right. Jungkook turned the car off and got out. Quickly following him, I wondered where we were.

It was a nice place. They looked like townhomes and I could smell someone barbecuing. Jungkook looked back at me, a few paces ahead, and continued to walk around to the front. Every house had large bushes in the front yards. Hydrangeas grew vibrantly along the walkway with spaces to make way for the entryway to homes. Jungkook turned and I followed.

The front was identical to the others. The only difference I could see was Jungkook’s ‘no shoes’ sign right out front. Rubbing my eyes, I continued to wake up and get the crust off of my skin.

“It’s small,” Jungkook suddenly said, “But it’s nice.”

“Where are we?” I asked, stepping into the house and kicking off my shoes.

“Chatham,” He replied, shrugging his jacket off. “It’s out of the way but I like the beach.”

The first thing I noticed was the large, beige sectional in the living room. On the wall was a large television above a faux fireplace. The entire house smelled like wood polish and oranges. I liked the carpeted floors and was pleasantly surprised by how clean everything was. There were no photos or personalized art hanging on the walls, but I guessed Jungkook never really liked those sorts of things. He was personable but in the moment. Jimin was a photo monster.

Thinking of my friend, I hoped he was alright. It was unlike him to go full radio silent. At the very least he would have called and checked in. Perhaps he had and no one bothered to tell me. Catching a glimpse of myself in the large, gold framed mirror hanging above the dining table, I flinched. 

I looked just as bad as I had begun to feel. I was tired, my eyes puffy, and I was embarrassed by the drool dried at the corner of my lip. My shoulder was stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the car and my clothes looked a mess. Jungkook had my duffle bag on his shoulder and I belatedly realized I have never even thought to grab it. I had not even brought it inside.

“Thank you,” I said.

Jungkook smiled at me. 

“It’s no problem. The room’s not being used anyway.”

“No,” I shook my head and walked up to him. Carefully taking the bag, I slug it over my shoulder with a knowing look. “Thanks for grabbing my shit. And for the room. I appreciate it.”

Jungkook scratched the back of his neck and turned red. He was not good with compliments no matter how much he seemed to enjoy them.

“Friends, right?”

I nodded, “Yeah.”

Walking past him, I distracted myself from my racing heart by figuring out where his washing machine was.

After taking a shower, I tip-toed my way back to the room Jungkook had given me. I had been on edge since I got here. He was kind, caring, and attentive. I had never really seen someone show all three at the same time, and never toward me. My friends and I were subtle types, so to have someone so open and honest with their feelings was a hard pill to swallow. In California it was safe, in California it was expected, in California it was sacred; in Boston it was nerve wracking.

I could never be sure of how genuine Jungkook really was. When I was in his presence, it was easy to say that he was just that simple. Once I got alone it took all of me not to sneak out of a window and run. Hoseok had always said I needed to work on trusting people, so I would try.

I knew my behavior was only heightened by my attraction to him. Attractive people were the worst. Liking Jungkook would not do any favors for either one of us. I would get swallowed up by the life I so desperately wanted to leave, and Jungkook would be stuck in an awkward situation with the rest of the crew if it came to the light. No one would win and the outcome would be the same if I said anything or not. I was leaving Boston as soon as the situation was handled.

Luck was not on my side. As I turned the corner to reach the door of my bedroom, Jungkook was coming up the stairs. Carrying two cups, he flashed me a small smile and walked the rest of the way up. I froze in my spot. Caught red handed, I tried to play off my unsuccessful sneaking and took the cup with a smile. Jungkook did not seem to buy it but looked more amused than anything.

“What’s this?” I asked, smelling it.

“Cocoa,” He replied. “It’s not winter but still chilly.”

I nodded and took a generous sip. It was warm and silky. Humming in satisfaction, I took another sip and licked my top lip. Cocoa was one of my favorite things when I was a child. It was one of the few fond memories I had. Jungkook looked happy.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asked. “To get your mind off things?”

It was funny that he thought Ivan was what had been plaguing my mind. I may not be a very violent person now, but there was a time I was ruthless. The Russians did not scare me as much as they once had either. My initial response had been mostly shock, anger, and most of all, frustration. I had not been scared in a very long time. I doubted I ever would be.

“Sure,” I said, keeping my thoughts out of the conversation. What Jungkook did not know will not hurt him. He was only trying to help. “I’m not picky.”

Going down the stairs, I felt the same nervous butterflies growing in my stomach again. We were going to be closer than I would like to be. I was afraid of what that might do to the both of us. I did not know where Jungkook’s head was, but I was not foolish enough to believe that I was immune to any advances. The ball would stay in his court. I had enough self control to let that be a rule.

Sitting on the couch, I curled up on the end and waited. Netflix was already pulled up and waiting. Jungkook sat two cushions away. Picking up the remote from the coffee table, he began scrolling as we talked about possible movies to watch. We ended up on a random Jason Statham film. I watched mindlessly since every one of his movies were practically the same.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asked me fifteen minutes in, clearly bored and disinterested in the action sequence. I could not blame him. There was no way anyone could use a gun like that in real life, and I was becoming annoyed by the plot armor. “I have ramen.”

I nodded, “That’s fine.”

Moving to stand up, Jungkook waved me off and went to the kitchen himself. Not arguing, I got more comfortable and zoned out once more. It was hard not to feel the pull towards him. All I kept thinking about was the way his lips felt at the airport. Refocusing on the movie, I rolled my eyes at the bomb scene. There was no way in hell you were getting up and walking away from something that big.

Of course, Jason Statham had done just that. 

Jungkook came back a few minutes later, two large cups of ramen in hand, and sat down at the sofa. We ate in silence, neither one of us interrupting the bad movie again. When I went up to bed I could only think about how his hands would feel on me.

Taglist: @ippid @jkslaugh97 @destructive-memories @ash07128 @heartjiminie @adventures-in-bookland @canyon-lwt​ 

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts smut #bts mafia au #bts angst #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fics #park jimin #jung hoseok #min yoongi #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #bts gang au #bts assassin au

[ereardon]

Snowed In || Saturday [Jake Seresin x OC]

A Jake Seresin AU miniseries

Summary: When a massive storm shutters every airport in New York, you receive an unexpected call. Jake Seresin, the ex-boyfriend of your college roommate, is stranded at JFK with nowhere to go. Somehow you find yourself hosting Jake for a long weekend in your studio apartment. What happens when you realize that maybe your long-standing hatred for him was covering up something else? 

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Ella Finnley]

Trope: Forced proximity; enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, references to cheating, eventual smut

Wordcount: 4.2K 

Masterlist here; Part one aka Friday here

You had spent seven years trying to reinvent yourself after college. Almost exactly three thousand miles between you and Stanford, and yet the ghost of who you had been haunted you. 

The funny best friend. The sidekick. The mousy girl in class. The overachiever. The one who wasn’t invited to parties. 

You had moved to New York after graduation and taken a job with a small newspaper, working your way up. Along the way you had gotten a haircut, figured out how to apply makeup with a wet beauty blender, how to dress for your small frame. You had traveled at every opportunity, made friends with people across the city, dated a hedge fund analyst and a bee farmer and a NYU professor. You had done everything you had wanted to do and more. 

But when you laid down to sleep at night, or first thing in the morning, all of that change escaped you. And your mind immediately flitted to the version of yourself that you had once been but no longer were. 

The girl Jake Seresin had known and loathed. 

***

The day was bright. Blinding. You groaned, rolling over, taking the covers with you, trying to shield your papery eyelids from the light streaming through the blinds. 

It was no use. You groaned, eyes flying open. 

Jake. 

For a split second you had forgotten that not ten feet away, Jake Seresin was hypothetically asleep on your couch. 

Slowly, you sat up, peering over the edge of the couch. But it was empty. The pillow and comforter that you had laid out the night before folded neatly and set in the corner. You frowned. And then the sound of the tap in the bathroom caught your attention. A moment later it stopped and Jake emerged from the bathroom into the hallway, wearing a pair of joggers and a fresh shirt, hair damp. He smiled. “Hey Finn.” 

That was it. Like he had forgotten how the two of you had left it the night before. 

“I made coffee. Hope that’s OK. But you don’t really have much else,” he said, sitting down on the ottoman. 

“Ugh, yeah, I meant to go to the store, but I never did.” 

Jake shrugged. “I think that’s our only option at this point.” 

You stood up, the pant legs of your silky pajamas pooling onto the cold hardwood floor as you crossed the room and placed one hand on the window. It was frosty. Blinding white from all the snow swirling in every direction. It made the air practically opaque. “Not it,” you replied, turning around with one finger pressed to the tip of your nose. 

Jake laughed. “Fuck it, fine, I’ll go.” 

You grinned. Maybe having him around wouldn’t be all bad. “You can go later if you want. I’m not a big breakfast person, anyway.” 

“Later is good.” Jake sat on the edge of the couch. “Listen, Finn. About last night.” 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted and Jake’s eyes widened. 

He laughed. A surprised chortle. “Jesus. Never thought I’d hear Ella Finnley apologize.” 

“People change, Seresin.”

“I know,” he replied, his voice softer. “That’s what I keep trying to tell you.” 

You looked him up and down. You had rarely thought of Jake Seresin in the almost ten years since the two of you graduated from Stanford. But when he did pop into your mind, it was almost always at the most random of times, triggered by a memory. The smell of a particular flavor of vodka that you remembered drinking at his fraternity house, or if someone on the street passed with a distinct Texas accent. The years had dulled your impression of him, coated him in a sepia film in your memory that automatically paired Jake Seresin with dickwad. 

Maybe, just maybe, you had been wrong. Or perhaps he had done what you had tried to do. 

Had he actually, fundamentally, changed for the better? 

“I’m going to shower,” you said, hooking one finger over your shoulder.  

“I’ll be here,” Jake said, looking around the studio apartment. The warm water helped wake you up, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the way Jake had looked when he said he had changed from your mind. There was something there that he had never embodied before. At least, not the Jake you had known. 

You turned off the tap, wrapping up in a white towel and sitting down on the edge of the tub, grabbing your phone and dialing a phone number you hadn’t touched in ages. 

She picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” 

“Suze,” you said, smiling. 

On the other end of the line, Suzannah whopped. “Ellie! Oh my God, it’s been forever! How are you?” 

“I’m good,” you whispered, trying not to be too loud. “Listen, I have a question for you.” 

“Everything OK?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I, um, Jake Seresin called me.” 

There was a pause. Then, “Why?” 

You sighed. “He, um, he asked to stay with me. Guess he was stuck at the airport with the storm that’s coming in.”

Suzannah wasn’t one to stay quiet for long. She had an opinion about everything, from the color of your nails to the best way to load a dishwasher to why Santorini is only for tourists. So silence from Suzannah was telling. 

“Suze?” you asked softly. 

“I’m here,” she said after a moment. “What did you tell him?” 

“He’s in my living room.” 

“Where the hell are you?” 

“The bathroom. Hiding.” 

She laughed. “You fucking idiot.” 

“Tell me why you guys broke up again.” 

“Ellie,” she sighed. “You of all people know.” 

You did. Jake had slept with not one but two of Suzannah’s sorority sisters while the two of them were on a break. But break in the Ross and Rachel definition of break. As in the two of them had parted ways for no more than three days before Jake had fucked the other girls. 

“Why’d you call, Finn?” she asked. “You already made the decision to let him in, obviously. So what are you looking for me to answer?” 

“Do you think people can change?” you asked. 

“Yeah, I do,” she replied. “By people do you mean Jake?” 

“Maybe.” 

Suzannah sighed. “You’re smart, Finn. Always have been. But you don’t trust people and that’s your fatal flaw. To answer your question, yes, I think Jake always had the ability to change. I don’t date losers, babe, you know that. Even back then.” 

I laughed lightly. “God, I miss you Suze.” 

“Call more,” she said. “And not just because you’re hiding in your bathroom from my ex-boyfriend.” 

“I feel like I’m twenty two again,” you replied. “Afraid to come out of the bathroom because you and Jake were fucking on the couch.” 

“Sorry about that.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “You need to go or else he’s going to think you have IBS or something.” Another pause. “Tell me something Finn, and don’t lie to me.” 

You sucked in a breath. With Suzannah, you never knew where the conversation was going to go. “OK?”

“Is he still hot?” 

You let out a snort. “Yes. Unfortunately.” 

“That’s what I thought. Damn men for just getting better with age while I look like a sickly Victorian child at the ripe age of twenty nine. Anyways, I love you, call me when you’re no longer a fugitive in your own home.” 

“Love you too, Suze.” You ended the call, shivering in the thin towel. When you realized you had left a change of clothes in the main part of the apartment instead of bringing something to the bathroom, you groaned.

Whipping open the door, you scampered down the long wooden hallway, shivering in the cold, rounding the corner on your tiptoes. Something hard hit you as your eyes were turned downward toward the floor. A solid mass smashed against your front and before you realized, you were falling to the ground, a small shriek echoing through the walls of your apartment as you and Jake tumbled to the floor in a heap of limbs, his fingers grasping for purchase on whatever he could. 

Which just happened to be on your bare ass where your towel rode up. 

“Fuck!” he exclaimed as the two of you smacked against the floor, your heads thankfully bouncing lightly against the cream colored rug to your left. 

Your eyes flew open as something heavy rolled over you, your knee pressing up into Jake’s crotch instinctively as his fingers touched your bare ass. 

“Oh my God!” Jake groaned, rolling over you as quickly as he had rolled on top, curling into a ball, hands cradling his crotch. 

“Shit, I’m sorry!” you shrieked, kneeling next to him, gripping the towel around you with one hand, the other hovering over his pained body. “Did I get you?” 

Jake moaned, nodding his head. “Yeah, Finn, you got me.” 

You sat back on your heels. “Well you touched my ass so I think we’re even.” 

“Fuck,” he muttered, rolling onto his side. “Not even close, babe.” 

“Don’t babe me,” you said, standing up, making sure to keep your legs closed under the short towel. “You’re fine.” 

Jake grunted, pushing himself to sit as you rifled through the dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a tight henley bodysuit. You brushed past him on your way back to the bathroom to change and Jake’s hand reached out, fingers circling your ankle. You gasped, looking down at him. He smirked. “It’s a nice ass.” 

“Oh fuck off, Seresin,” you muttered, tugging your ankle from his grip as he chuckled. “Your balls aren’t even sore are they?” you called down the hall. 

“Oh, they are!” 

“Dick,” you whispered to yourself, shutting the door.  

***

“Finn?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I turn the TV on?” 

You scowled. “What happened to independent reading time, Seresin?” 

After towelgate, you had emerged into the living room with a plan. To make time go faster, you and Jake would divide the day like elementary school. Breakfast coffee followed by gym class, per Jake’s suggestion, independent reading and a late lunch.

“And what the hell are we supposed to do for gym class when there’s a blizzard outside?” you asked. 

Jake shrugged. “Yoga?” 

The two of you had struggled through a yoga video that you screencast on your TV, and after Jake had obviously been staring at your ass in downward facing dog you smacked him on the arm. 

But an hour into reading and Jake was already calling it quits. 

He put his book, a worn copy of Wuthering Heights from your bookshelf, off to the side, kicking up his feet onto the coffee table. “Let’s play a game.” 

“Game time isn’t for an hour,” you replied, never taking your eyes off of your book, a new thriller by Ruth Ware. “God, are you sure you have a job? How do you focus on any work?” 

“I bounce around a lot,” he said. 

“Bounce around jobs a lot?” 

“Bounce around projects,” Jake clarified.

You looked up, eyebrows raised. “What are you, a drug dealer?” 

“Finn.” 

“What?” you asked, eyes flicking back to your book. “You never were great in school.” 

“Hey,” Jake cried. “I wasn’t great at Sawyer’s fiction seminar. Doesn’t mean I flunked out of any other class.” 

“You flunked out of Sawyer’s fiction?” You laughed. “God, that’s bad.” 

“It’s been nine years,” Jake said. “Can’t you let little things go?” 

“Nope,” you said, putting your book down. Outside, the snow had slowed so you could finally see through the opaque wall of flurries. “Fine, since you can’t sit still, why don’t you go to the bodega.” 

Jake frowned. “What do you need there?” 

“You’re kidding, right?” 

Jake looked around before turning back to face you, eyebrows raised. “A hammer?” 

“What the fuck would I need a hammer for?” 

“Why are you sending me to the hardware store during a snowstorm?” 

You bent in half laughing. “Wait, are you telling me you think a bodega is a hardware store?” 

“Well isn’t it?” 

“No,” you said, wiping under one eye. “It’s a fucking corner store. Bread, soda, beer. Chopped cheese. Midnight cigarettes.” 

“You don’t still smoke, do you?” he asked. 

“No, not anymore.” 

“Me neither.” 

You shook your head, standing up and grabbing your purse, pulling out a card. “Here, take this.” 

“No way.” Jake stood, pushing the gold Amex away from him. “I got this.” 

“Fine,” you said, sliding the card back into your wallet. “I don’t know, get us stuff to last another two days. Some pasta, maybe. Fruit so we don’t get scurvy.” 

“Scurvy in two days,” Jake muttered to himself, shrugging on a jacket, “that’s new information.” 

“Vodka,” you said. “And limes. I’m going to need to be drunk to deal with another day of being with you.” 

Jake turned toward the door, shaking his head. “Aren’t you a delight, Finn.” 

You tried to read while Jake was gone but every little sound in the hallway would make you look up. Finally, after five or so times of that happening, you gave up, setting the book down and sitting on the windowsill overlooking Fifth Ave. 

He was gone for a suspiciously long time. So long that at one point you almost pulled out your phone to call him, convinced he had gotten lost, when the doorbell rang. A minute later, you tugged open the door. 

Jake was covered in melted snow, huffing and puffing. He had two bags in each hand, and a bouquet of flowers under one arm. You frowned. “Flowers?” 

He stepped inside, tracking muddy water into the foyer of the apartment and you grimaced. “For you,” he said and your heart skipped a beat. Jake set down the bags, holding out the bouquet of white roses. “For letting me stay.” 

“Jake,” you whispered. 

He smiled. “Just take them, Finn,” he said softly. “For once in your life, let me do something for you.” 

“Fine,” you replied, taking the flowers and pressing them to your nose. They smelled clean and soft and you couldn’t remember the last time a guy had bought you flowers. You headed down the hall toward the kitchen. “Shoes off, Seresin. Stop tracking mud everywhere.” 

“I know,” Jake said and he was close, so close behind you that you could feel his breath on your exposed shoulder. “I’m getting something to wipe it up.” 

He reached around your body, grabbing a few paper towels from the dispenser on the counter to your right, his chest brushing against your back before he pulled away. When he did, a rush of cold air hugged you tightly, reinforcing the fact that Jake was gone. 

Once all of the groceries were unpacked, you and Jake were settled at the dining room table eating two bodega sandwiches. 

“You’re like a kid who was left alone for the weekend, do you know that?” 

Jake looped up from his bacon egg and cheese. “What makes you say that?” 

“The groceries, Jake,” you replied. “Ice cream, cookie dough, Doritos, mac n cheese boxes? Seriously?” 

“I got fruit like you asked,” he said, taking the last bite of his sandwich and wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Besides, it’s a snowstorm. Don’t we get a free pass?” 

“Free pass for what?” 

Jake stood, clearing his plate and your empty one. He smirked. “A free pass to do whatever we want, Ella. Whatever you wouldn’t normally do. Nothing is off the table.”

“I can think of a few things that are.” 

***

Jake was better behaved with a full stomach. The two of you wrapped up reading time, and even played a game of Monopoly that you had found buried in your closet. Before long, it started to get dark, the sun sliding below the buildings until the sky was just a dark blanket peppered by the continuous snow. 

You flicked the news on. “More snow is expected to fall across parts of Manhattan and the wider Tristate tonight,” the newscaster said. “We could see up to another six inches overnight.” 

“Fuck,” you muttered, turning it off as Jake returned with two glasses. He handed one to you. “What is this?” 

“Vodka tonic,” he replied and you took a sip. “Since I know you’re trying to get me liquored up so I’ll have to sleep with you.” 

You sputtered, vodka spraying out of your mouth as Jake cackled, settling down onto the couch next to you. 

“Easy there,” he said, patting your knee, squeezing gently as you wiped at your mouth. 

“I think of the two of us, you’re the one that’s easy to get into bed, Seresin,” you murmured. His hand was still resting on your thigh. 

“Maybe so,” Jake said, his eyes never leaving yours. “The couch isn’t too comfortable, you were right.” 

“You’re not sleeping on the bed with me.” 

“What if I beg?” 

“Is that your kink? You want to have to beg for sex?” 

Jake leaned back, taking a sip of his drink, his hand still hot on your leg. “Sweetheart. I’ve never had to beg a day in my life.” 

You crossed your legs, letting his hand slip off. “Never say never, Seresin.” 

***

Somewhere between the third and fourth vodka soda was when things started to blur. Jake had brought the bottle out into the living room, along with a pack of tonic waters and a lime on a cutting board. At some point, you kicked off your slippers, tucking your feet up beneath you and Jake did the same, scooting closer on the couch, one arm stretched out over the tufted back. 

You leaned forward, reaching for more vodka, sliding a little and Jake’s arm shot out, catching you around the middle, suspending you in midair so you didn’t fall. 

Your faces were close together. He was basked in warm light from the candles on the mantle and the soft yellow lamp in the corner. He smelled good and cozy and for a second, you could almost forget that he was Jake Seresin. He was just a really attractive guy in your apartment looking at you like he never wanted to tear his eyes away. 

“How on earth are you single, Finn?” Jake asked, his fingers tightening around my side. His green eyes were clear and wide. 

You grabbed the vodka bottle, dumping some into my glass, and Jake finally released me. But his knee was pressed against my leg still, warm and inviting. “I don’t like dating,” you said. “Every guy is the same. He’s Midtown East and he has three cell phones or he lives in Fidi and he works twenty hours a day or God forbid he’s from Brooklyn and he wants me to take the L on the weekends. He’s an Upper West side dick whose mother will never approve of me. He’s an Upper East Side prick who would never look my way because I didn’t go to prep school. Or maybe he’s another Stanford alum, but even then I probably won't be good enough for him somehow.” 

“How could you not be good enough?” Jake whispered. 

“You overestimate me, Jake,” you replied. “And you overestimate the New York dating scene.” 

“You’re smart,” he said. “Beautiful. Charming in a really dickish, sarcastic way.” You laughed, head tossed back and Jake’s fingers on the back of the couch tickled your neck. “The whole package, El. Always have been.” 

“You didn’t like me in college, Seresin,” you replied. “What made you change your mind?” 

“Who said I didn’t like you in college?” 

“You did! The way you always gave me shit and how you always avoided me if we were waiting for Suzannah at the same time.”

Jake shook his head. “I didn’t hate you. I’ve never disliked you a day in my life, Ella.” 

“Then what?” you asked. “Why were you always so weird?” 

Jake paused. You watched his jaw tense. He set his cup down on a coaster on the table and stood up abruptly. “We need more liquor.” 

You frowned. “What? No, we still have vodka left.” 

“Then we need gin.” 

“I have gin.” 

“OK, tequila.” 

“Jake, what are you doing?” But he was already down the hall, pulling on his jacket, sliding into his boots. You scrambled off the couch. “Jake, wait!” But he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him. 

You stood in shock. What had just happened? After a few minutes, you tugged on a coat and a pair of boots, slipping your keys into your pocket. The hallway was dark and empty, no sign of Jake.  

Five floors later, you emerged in the lobby. “Ella!” Gerry the doorman looked up from behind the desk. “How are you sweetheart?” 

“Hi Gerry,” you said. “Did, um, did a guy rush out of here a few minutes ago?” 

He nodded. “Tall, blond, looks like a total player?” 

“Yeah, that’s him.” 

“He took a left, toward the park,” Gerry said. “Be safe, sweetheart. He looks like he’d break your heart.” 

“He’s just a friend.” 

Gerry nodded knowingly. “Friend. OK, doll. You be safe out there, it’s cold as all hell.” 

You smiled, bursting through the double glass doors, getting smacked in the face by a gust of air. It burrowed into your skin, freezing you whole and despite the heavy coat your teeth chattered as you took a hard left down Fifth. Washington Square Park was five blocks away, but no way Jake had already made it that far, right? 

No one else was out. Who would be so stupid as to go outside at nearly midnight in the middle of the worst blizzard in two decades? 

Apparently you. And Jake Seresin. 

You scampered across the intersection, crossing tenth street, hurrying as the wind gusted from one side, threatening to toss you into the nonexistent traffic on the avenue going downtown toward the park. 

Up ahead, you spotted the familiar Washington Arch that stood at the northern part of the park. Snowflakes dotted your eyelashes and you blinked, pressing them away into liquid, before opening your eyes wide, spotting a familiar head bobbing down the sidewalk. “Jake!” you called out, your voice getting picked up and carried away in the wind. “Jake!” 

Beneath your body, your feet scrambled along, pushing you closer. 

“Jake!” 

The man in the distance stopped and turned. The lights illuminating the arch highlighted him from behind. His jacket was too thin and as you approached you could see it was damp from snow, his hair sticking to his drawn face.

“Seresin,” you said, stepping closer until the two of you were only a few feet apart. “What the fuck? You’re like a shit baby daddy, going out for diapers and never coming back.” 

“Get it all out,” he said. “Whatever you think of me, Ella. It’s time to air the dirty laundry.” 

You frowned. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand what’s happening. One second we’re drunk and laughing and the next second you’re fucking running away and forcing me to chase you through a goddamn blizzard.” 

“You didn’t have to chase me.” 

“You left,” you said quietly. “What did you expect me to do?” 

“Let me leave,” Jake said. “If you think I’m such a bad person, what do you care if I stay or not?” 

“The real question is why did you hate me so much,” you whispered. “Back in the apartment. I asked why you hated me so much back then. And instead of answering, you made up some bullshit excuse about needing tequila. So answer, Jake. Or I’ll let you turn into an ice sculpture and I’ll sell you to 230 Fifth and their stupid fucking igloo bar as decoration.” 

“I don’t hate you, Ella,” Jake said, stepping closer. Even drenched in snow he was warm. A furnace. “I never hated you.” 

“So what was it then?” you demanded. “A Mr. Darcy thing? You ignored me and shut me out and gave me shit because you loved me?” 

“Maybe.” 

“What?” Stunned silence surrounded the two of you. If it was even possible, the snowflakes fell slower. As if they were suspended in the air. It was just you and Jake in the middle of Fifth Avenue in a snowglobe. You looked up at him, eyes wide. 

“Did you ever think, Ella, that maybe I called you for a reason?” Jake asked quietly. “That maybe, just maybe, I spent eight years wondering about what had happened to the one girl who had seen me for who I really was and never let me get away with it? That maybe, just maybe, I took your feedback to heart and tried to change. And now I’m ready.” 

“Ready for what?” 

“For this,” Jake said, closing the distance between the two of you and sliding one hand around your neck, tipping your head back, bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Tag list [using my list from The Off-Season since it's my most up-to-date Jake list but if you're not interested in these types of fics just let me know!):

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@teacupsandtopgun @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @eminyourjeans @shawnsblue @babyminghao @sadpetalsstuff @angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @wkndwlff @mygyn @oneelleandaneye @averyhotchner @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @rxmtoon @valkyrja-siren-blog @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @clancycucumber230 @theharddeck @redbarn1995 @shanimallina87

@memeorydotcom @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse @djs8891

@blackcatdhisgf @buckysteveloki-me  @eli2447 @bellaireland1981 @seresinslady @hookslove1592 @shotclock24seconds @fanficfandomlove @ryebecca @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @t8r-tots

#jake hangman fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin au #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin angst #hangman series #hangman imagine #hangman x you #hangman x reader #hangman #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 10: "The Weight of Grief"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 5.4k

a/n: This one is quite heavy on the angst. Also--if you haven't realized already, the timeline and events of this series aren't exactly canon. Just for clarification. I split this installment into two parts so the next one is actually going to be titled "Last to Know." Feedback is always appreciated! And I have not published this to AO3 with whatever is going on, but I will whenever things have calmed down over there. I just didn't want to leave everyone hanging when I had updates ready!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine

“How about you let me take you out for dinner Saturday night?”

Shouldering your phone against your ear, you continued to distractedly chop vegetables for the late dinner you were making in your kitchen. A smile made its way onto your lips at the prospect of a third date already.

“How bold of you, Adam,” you teased. “Three Saturday nights in a row? A girl might think you like her.”

“Maybe I want the girl to think I like her,” he teased back.

Pausing your chopping, you set the knife down on the cutting board before wiping your hands on the towel next to it. Grabbing your phone from your shoulder, you turned and rested your back against the countertop. Chewing your lip, you felt a faint blush rise to your cheeks.

You’d met Adam through a speed dating event that Karen had dragged you along with her to. That had been about a month ago now. You’d thought the whole idea was terrible and you’d made her promise not to say anything to Foggy or Matt, not wanting either of them to judge you for going. You figured it would make you sound desperate because you were sure Karen wasn’t really having trouble in the dating department. It was clearly a ploy to get you to go in the hopes of finding someone instead of Matt to think about.

And you and Karen had considered the experience successful because you’d instantly clicked with Adam that night. From the moment he sat down at your table and smiled at you, you’d been hooked. He was a veterinary technician with a big heart and a love of animals, something that had immediately won you over with him. He was cute, too. And funny. And he seemed like he was close with his family. With Adam, you found you weren’t actively trying to forget about Matt and push him out of your thoughts. Something that had you instantly drawn to him because no one else had ever accomplished that since you'd met Matt back at Columbia. 

And ever since Matt and Elektra had surprised you at your apartment a few months ago, you'd tried hard to let your feelings for him go. There would never be anything more between you and him, you knew that now. So now you were doing your best to focus on just letting Matt be your friend, especially while you tried to adjust to the new knowledge about his heightened senses and him being the masked man running around the streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night performing heroics. Though now he’d recently become known as Daredevil in the news ever since he'd gotten that protective new suit made for him. And you were glad he had because you'd worried a lot less about his well-being; he was visibly sporting less injuries at least.

But you didn't spend as much time with Matt as you used to, even if you had stopped actively avoiding him. He was often busy with his vigilante endeavors, and it just felt weird and uncomfortable being around him knowing he knew you had feelings for him that he didn't return. And from your knowledge, he had spent the past few months helping Elektra with something. You were certain they were back together again even if you'd never asked and had it confirmed. You didn't want to even think about it.

And as for what he was helping her with–you didn't ask about that either. You weren't as in the know about what was going on as Foggy and Karen seemed to be, and frankly you didn't want to be. Despite having come to accept Matt's secret alter ego, you didn't want to know about anything that involved Elektra. So whenever the topic of her came up, you usually asked about the bare minimum and found a way to quickly exit the conversation–especially when you’d later overheard that Elektra had died, but also apparently had been resurrected from the dead. Which had confused you too much to want to try to understand.

"Well I am free Saturday night," you answered Adam. 

"Should we try that new Italian restaurant?" he asked over the line. "You were talking about craving pasta earlier this week."

The smile on your lips grew wider. You'd told him that offhandedly on the phone three nights ago and apparently he'd remembered. 

"I would like that," you told him. "I'm–"

A few knocks on your apartment door interrupted you, your attention shifting to it across the room. A frown settled on your mouth. It was after seven on a Thursday night, who would be stopping by? You hadn't been expecting company. 

"Hey, Adam, someone's apparently at my door," you told him. "Mind if we finalize the details tomorrow?"

"Not at all," he told you, the smile apparent in his chipper tone. "I'll call you in the evening? After work?"

"That sounds great," you told him.

You exchanged goodbyes before hanging up, setting your phone onto your kitchen counter. Eyeing your door curiously, you made your way across your apartment towards it. It took you a few moments to unlock the door, unlatching the deadbolt before pulling it open.

Your eyebrows rose up high onto your forehead at the unexpected sight of Foggy and Karen standing there. Both of them had red, puffy eyes that were glistening with tears on their sullen faces. Heart beating harder in your chest, your hand tightened around the doorknob you were still holding. Whatever had brought them here couldn't be good, not with the way Foggy’s lips were suddenly trembling as he opened his mouth, clearly struggling to form a sentence. 

And that's when you knew what this visit had to be about. You'd felt the rumble and shaking earlier tonight when you'd been grabbing food at the store on your way home from work. Everyone had been saying it had been an earthquake at the time, but you'd later heard something about a building collapsing nearby in Hell’s Kitchen.

Something must have happened to Matt. There was no other reason for both of them to be standing there looking at you like they were. Not in the state they were in.

Tears immediately stung at your eyes, a feeling of dread washing over you as your gaze danced between the pair of them before you. It felt like your throat was closing up, making it almost impossible for you to swallow. Shaking your head, you felt the first tears fall. 

"No," you said, voice breaking on the word. "No, don't tell me he got hurt."

A choked sob fell out of Karen instantly, your heart feeling like someone had crushed it in their fist at the sound. One of her hands rose up to cover her mouth as she turned away, unable to look at you. Beside her, Foggy sent you an apologetic smile when your eyes met his, but he couldn’t hide the tears present and ready to spill over. 

"There was an–an accident," Foggy said softly. "Matt he was–was out helping those others like him. The ones we'd told you a bit about. They were over at Midland Circle." He paused, exhaling a shuddering breath. "Trying to destroy that Hand group. And they–they blew up the building."

Both of your hands flew to your face at the tremble in Foggy’s voice and the implication of his words. You felt like you were going to be sick.

"No," you repeated, shaking your head more firmly. "No, no he's okay. Tell me he's okay, Foggy!" you shouted.

Foggy said your name softly, stepping into your apartment slowly with his hands raised placatingly as if he was approaching a wild animal. A painful grimace was on his face as he approached you and you took a step back, still shaking your head as more tears streamed down your cheeks.

"He didn't make it out," he whispered. 

"No," you growled through clenched teeth. "No, don't you tell me that! Don’t you fucking tell me that, Foggy!"

"The others said he stayed behind," Foggy continued gently. "Trying to save Elektra."

It felt like you’d been barreled over by a city bus at his words. Matt had stayed behind…to save Elektra? He died for her? The heartless woman who’d only toyed with him? The woman who didn’t even know the beautiful, fragile heart she held in the palm of her hands? Who’d never truly loved him, abandoning him back at Columbia with a shattered heart? The very same heart you’d spent months trying to help him piece back together just for him to give it back to her years later to permanently destroy?

He died for her?

You collapsed to your knees, hot tears steadily pouring down your cheeks. It wasn’t until Foggy was kneeling on the floor before you, his hands gingerly grasping your shoulders and drawing you towards him, that you realized you were screaming. You fought Foggy’s attempts to soothe you, struggling against him as he tried to hold you still. The entire time you heard him repeatedly croaking out ‘I know, I know’ over and over, emotion thick in his own voice. 

“He’s not dead!” you wailed, still thrashing against Foggy. “He’s not dead! Matt’s not dead!!”

“Hey, hey,” Karen said gently, her voice breaking as she kneeled down beside you and Foggy on the floor. “I–I know it’s hard to hear,” she whispered, “but Matt he–he didn’t make it. They–they said they saw him stay behind.”

“Well maybe he made it out!” you cried hysterically, sniffling loudly as the tears didn’t stop falling. “They’re wrong! It’s–it’s Matt we’re talking about, guys! He’s–he’s like a goddamn superhero! He isn’t dead! He can’t be!”

There was no way you would believe Matt was gone. That his smiling face wouldn't still greet you if you headed over to his apartment right now. That he wouldn't be calling you tomorrow night to see if you wanted to grab drinks with him, Foggy, and Karen at Josie’s. That he wouldn’t be making one of his stupid blind jokes to you over a few beers.

He wasn't dead. You'd have known if he was. Felt it somehow.

Matt wasn’t dead.

You shook your head, pulling away out of Foggy’s embrace and roughly wiping the backs of your hands against your tear stained cheeks. Sniffling loudly again, you ignored the pitying looks on their faces.

“Was there a body?” you asked, trying to calm down.

“What?” Foggy asked you.

“Was there a body?” you repeated, forcefully enunciating each word.

“No, not yet,” he answered. “But they just started trying to sort through the rubble. The emergency responders said it could take days for them to sort through the mess.” Foggy’s frown deepened as he said your name again. “It doesn’t sound like he made it.”

“No,” you said firmly, rising back up to your feet and wiping at your eyes again. “I’m not believing it until there’s a body. He’s alive, I know he is.”

Karen sent you a sad smile, tears still falling down her own cheeks. “Okay,” she said softly with a nod. “Let’s give it a few days. Maybe–maybe they were wrong.”

You were kneeling, bent over the pew before you with your forehead resting against your clasped hands. You'd lost track of the time a while ago, unsure how long you'd been here. But your back was now stiff from however long you'd remained stationary in prayer, your knees aching. 

Praying wasn't something you did. You'd never been the religious type, though lately you'd often found yourself seeking solace at Clinton Church. Because it was Matt's church, the place where he told you he grew up going to. The place he had told you he frequented for advice from Father Lantom–who you'd met now with all the time you'd been spending here since Matt had gone missing. The orphanage he grew up in was just next door to this church, too. 

Coming here in the recent days since Matt had disappeared had always made you feel closer to him for some unexplainable reason. Like you could just feel him here in the walls of the church somehow. It was comforting to you, the only comfort you’d come to find over the past couple of weeks.

Despite the fact that everyone had told you he'd been in the building when it collapsed, and that he'd been missing for over two weeks, and the fact that you'd gone to a memorial service for him at this very church just a few days ago, you still absolutely refused to believe Matt was dead. There had never been a body found among the wreckage of Midland Circle–for him or Elektra. Which only cemented it in your mind that he was out there alive somewhere. 

But your friends were not of the same mind. They’d tried to grieve him at his memorial service, and they’d spent many conversations already trying to convince you that the facts all pointed to Matt having passed in the building’s collapse. Foggy had even asked you to explain why Matt wouldn't have reached out to let any of you know he was alive if he really had made it out of the building. All you could think was that he was lying horribly injured somewhere and unable to reach out. That had to be what was going on. 

Because Matt Murdock wasn't dead. He just wasn't. You didn't care that Foggy looked at you now with a different and more infuriating sympathetic look on his face whenever he saw you, one that wasn't just because you were in love with Matt and he didn’t return those feelings. He thought you were in denial and delusional now, unable to accept reality. 

Maybe you were, but you weren’t going to accept his death without proof of a body.

You heard movement nearby as someone came and sat down in the pew beside where you were kneeling. Almost immediately you recognized the scent of incense and smoke and you already knew who’d taken a seat–Father Lantom. Over the past few days he’d been stopping to chat with you, having recognized you from Matt’s memorial service and realizing you’d been showing up often. 

With a sigh you lifted your head, turning and glancing at Father Lantom in the pew. He was smiling at you, the expression somehow reassuring and comforting just like the church itself. Pushing yourself away from the kneeler, you settled into the pew beside him, your focus on your hands in your lap.

“You’re back again today,” Father Lantom observed.

“I come every day after work,” you muttered.

“You do,” he agreed lightly. “And how’re you feeling today?”

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap. “Furious,” you answered, eyes still focused on your hands. “I’m still angry. Probably more angry than anything lately.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Father Lantom nod. He shifted in the pew, turning to face you more fully.

“Anger is a common reaction when a loved one is taken from us,” he told you. “Especially when the loss is so unexpected.”

Your head darted up, your eyes brimming with tears as you focused on the priest beside you. “He’s not dead,” you stated, shaking your head firmly. “I told you that. He’s not dead.”

Something flickered across Father Lantom’s face briefly before his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression becoming something neutral. He nodded his head just once. 

“So much like Matthew yourself,” he mused. “He was always stubborn. Ever since he was a boy, really. When he had an idea in his head you couldn’t shake it from him for anything.”

A tear slipped out of your eye, your hand darting up to quickly wipe it away as your focus shifted to the large crucifix at the front of the church. It was the one thing you didn’t like about Clinton Church–the way Christ was always staring back at you from within the sanctuary, battered and bleeding on the cross. It felt too much like Matt.

“I miss him,” you whispered, eyes falling back down to your hands in your lap. 

I still love him.

“Well,” Father Lantom began slowly, “the most we can do for those we’ve lost–however it is that we’ve lost them–is to keep on living. I believe Matthew would want that for you. To keep living your life. To move forward.”

“I feel like all I’ve done is move backwards,” you admitted quietly, your fingers twisting around each other now. “I barely sleep. I can’t focus at work. I broke things off with the guy I was seeing not too long ago because I just can’t–can’t pretend everything is okay. Because it’s not, nothing is.”

Father Lantom sighed loudly, shifting in the pew beside you to clasp his own hands in his lap. His mouth opened as if he was about to speak, but you saw his focus shift towards a nun, your own eyes following the movement. She looked quite stern as she eyed the priest beside you, almost like she was trying to tell him something with her eyes, but when her attention turned to you her expression softened. You swore she offered you a smile before you ducked your head, tears once again threatening to fall. 

You abruptly rose to your feet, the threat of tears urging you to seek the solitude of your apartment before you broke down publicly in the church. That was usually your cue to leave.

“Going already?” Father Lantom asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, turning away from him and making your way towards the other end of the pew. “I’m sure I’ll be back tomorrow, though. And the next day.”

Matt’s hand tentatively reached out, fingers brushing over the cool stone of the statue. He could feel the grainy texture of it under the pads of his fingers. Each and every little divot in the stone. His sense of touch hadn’t really been affected by the collapse of Midland Circle, not quite, but what a shitty and useless sense to have retained. All it did was make him further aware of how uncomfortable the cheap cotton clothes he was wearing felt on his skin, and how scratchy the little bed he attempted to sleep in every night felt underneath him. It only brought him further discomfort and pain to match his injuries.

His hearing hadn’t fully come back to him, either; it was often touch and go. Sometimes he’d hear a ringing in one or both of his ears if it didn’t sound like he was underwater. He also hadn’t regained his heightened sense of taste–didn’t matter what food Sister Maggie brought him, it all tasted like blood and ash. And his sense of smell was basically nonexistent. He hadn’t been able to smell a damn thing besides smoke since he’d woken up in the undercroft of Clinton Church. He was utterly and pathetically useless without his senses. Just plodding around clumsily with a cane and tripping over his own goddamn feet in the church’s basement.

Yet for some reason, he still found himself trying. Which is what he’d been up out of his bed trying to do now as he attempted to map out the space he was in. He had no idea what time of day it was–it’s not like he could hear much besides the room he was in to even gauge time–and he was becoming stir crazy trapped in this church basement trying to heal. So he’d been up the past few minutes wandering around, his cane left hanging off one of the statues somewhere in the room. He honestly didn’t even know where, which wouldn’t have been the case if he’d been back to his normal self. Something that only further pissed him off.

Matt took a handful of careful steps forward, focusing intensely on where he was going. But as he took one more step, his foot hit something solid and he lost his balance. He fell to the floor, his hands flying out to try to brace himself for the impact, but he’d cut his palm on the corner of something sharp before he landed roughly on his side. He groaned out, his eyes closing as he curled into a ball.

He wished he’d have died in that goddamn building. 

But that wasn’t quite true. What he’d really wished was that Elektra hadn’t been so dead set on getting her hands on what the Hand had been after. That she hadn’t become the Hand’s puppet when they’d resurrected her as the Black Sky. If she’d have just listened to him he wouldn’t have stayed behind. He wouldn’t have felt the need to try to save her. Because despite the hurt she’d put him through, despite the way she’d broken his heart those years ago, he couldn’t just leave her to die. That wasn’t him. But ever since he’d woken up after he’d been dragged out of that wreckage, he’d hated her for having made him make that choice. For not just leaving with him and everyone else. For choosing to die trying to get what she wanted, and in true Elektra fashion, dragging him down with her.

But it wasn’t Elektra he’d been thinking about when the building had collapsed and he knew he was about to die.

It was you.

Every moment he’d ever had with you felt like it raced through his mind in a matter of seconds. The first time he’d stumbled on you on campus, when you'd stopped to help that stranger pick up their spilled belongings and you’d been so unbelievably kind. All that time he’d spent searching Columbia's campus for a sign of you afterwards. The unexplainable excitement when he’d accidentally ran into you at the library and finally got your name and your phone number. And every good memory he had of you ever since then; all of those Saturday nights he’d spent with you and Foggy, and the times he got you all to himself when Foggy had inevitably passed out early in his bed. Every conversation at meal times in the dining hall. He recalled graduation night when he’d almost kissed you, almost told you he loved you–and he regretted it so much right now that he’d never just said it back then. 

He recalled every moment with you that he could–every single one of them. Because he wanted you to be his dying thought.

As the building fell around him, Elektra had been shouting something at him, trying to rile him up one last time, but he hadn’t been paying attention to her because he’d been trying to remember the way it felt when he held you in his arms. You’d always fit so perfectly against him. He’d tried his hardest to recall the scent of your shampoo–something faintly floral and sweet, but never overpowering–and the softness of your hair the times he’d been bold enough to press his nose into it. You almost always buried your face into his left shoulder when he embraced you, a small random detail, but one he always remembered nevertheless. Your arms always wrapped around him so hesitant at first, but then you’d almost melt into him for a moment, expelling the softest little sigh that he always wondered about, even then in that moment. 

And that’s what Matt believed would be his last thought. The memory of that soft, contented sigh that always confused him whenever you hugged him.

Except it wasn’t his last thought because he hadn’t died in the explosion. He’d somehow been spared. Saved. But all he could think about since he had woken without his senses was how absurd that was considering God had clearly turned his back on him. He’d been spared for what? What was the point of him without his heightened senses that he’d always thought God had bestowed on him?

So he’d decided to let Matt Murdock die at Midland Circle. He figured he would finally listen to Stick–he’d cut out the people in his life he cared about who cared about him in order to keep them safe. Foggy, Karen, and you.

You were all safer without him. Safer thinking he was dead and gone.

And then he would just be Daredevil. Nothing left to live for, nothing left to lose.

Matt heard the faint, muddled sound of footsteps hitting his ears as someone descended the church’s basement steps. The sound pulled him from his bleak thoughts. Gradually he pushed himself upright, leaning against the stone of whatever it was he’d tripped over. He wasn’t surprised when he heard Sister Maggie’s voice speak a moment later. It was only ever her or Father Lantom that checked on him down here to begin with.

“What on earth are you doing on the floor?” Sister Maggie asked.

Matt huffed out a frustrated breath from his place on the hard floor. He could hear Maggie’s footsteps approaching him and he tried to focus on them, attempting to lock on to her movement in the room.

“Falling, apparently,” he muttered bitterly.

He heard the way Sister Maggie sighed, the noise coming from nearby. He realized she’d lowered to sit on the floor next to him a few seconds later when he registered her body temperature near his right side.

“I brought you something,” she told him.

“I’m guessing food?” he asked flatly. “Not like I can smell anything still. Everything tastes the same too–like blood and ash.”

Matt felt Sister Maggie press something into his hand. It was long and cylindrical. Wrapped in something like a wax paper wrapping. 

“It’s a sandwich from the deli nearby,” she said. “Thought you might enjoy it more than the soup Sister Ethel made tonight for the children.”

Matt’s fingers ran over the paper wrapper for a moment, trying to ignore the stirring in his chest at the kind gesture from Sister Maggie.

“Thank you,” Matt murmured.

He heard her unscrew the cap of something next. It sounded like a pill bottle; the sound of a few pills rattled out of it and into her hand.

“Brought you water, too,” she continued. “And you need to keep taking these.”

Matt held out a hand expectantly, waiting for her to drop the two pills into his upturned palm as she came down here to do every few hours. When she did, he quickly tossed them into his mouth. Holding out his hand again, Sister Maggie handed him an opened bottle of water. He drank down the pills, frowning as he swallowed and stared blankly ahead. 

“How’s the hearing?” she asked.

Matt made a face, the fingers of his left hand absently fiddling with the sandwich wrapper again. “Still can’t hear for shit,” he replied.

“Well your body took quite a beating,” she told him. “Everything’s swollen. Maybe your hearing will come back when it goes down.” There was a brief pause before she added, “Or maybe it’ll come back when you finally take your head out of your ass.”

A sharp, bitter laugh fell out of Matt at her words. He hadn’t been expecting that, but she'd been full of crass and unexpected comments like that since he'd woken here. 

Humorless laughter subsiding quickly, a heavy silence fell around the pair of them. Matt didn't need his extra senses to know there was more she wanted to say. And he had a feeling he knew what it would be, too.

"What?" he asked. 

He briefly registered the sound of Sister Maggie’s shoes lightly tapping along the cement floor, almost like a nervous fidget. Matt's frown only deepened as he waited in silence. 

"She was back again this evening," she eventually said.

Matt's eyelids slowly lowered, his heart feeling like it sank to the floor beside him. She didn't have to even say your name, he knew she meant you. Father Lantom had told him he'd seen you every day here for over a week now. Always bent over a pew in prayer–which was odd because he knew you weren't religious and you weren’t a parishioner at Clinton Church.

"Who is she?" Sister Maggie asked curiously. "She comes here everyday grieving over you. I saw her at your memorial service with those friends of yours that you refuse to call friends.”

“Just someone who used to be a friend, too,” Matt mumbled morosely.

“Seems like more than a friend with how often she frequents this church because of you,” Sister Maggie replied. “Paul seems to think so, too.”

Matt’s head darted towards her at her words, his brows furrowing. “Father Lantom has spoken with her?” he asked. “He’s never told me that.”

“Mmm, oh yes,” Maggie answered. “Often. She comes around the same time every evening. Just after work. Always praying silently in the same pew. Paul says she doesn’t believe you’ve actually died.”

Matt’s brows drew together even further on his forehead, his mouth going dry. “What?” he breathed out.

“She refuses to believe you're dead without a body,” Sister Maggie explained. “And she’d be right, because you aren’t dead. But you are stubborn as hell, though. Tormenting your friends like this. Letting them think you’re dead and forcing them to mourn the loss of you. Letting that poor young woman up there put her life on hold–”

“She’s not putting her life on hold,” Matt cut her off sharply. “She’ll move on soon enough.”

Sister Maggie drew in a deep breath, silence once again falling between the pair of them. Matt’s attention shifted back to the space in front of him. His fingers were still absently fiddling with the sandwich wrapper.

Why were you coming here every day praying for him though? Refusing to believe he’d died? Why not just mourn with Foggy and Karen and move on already? Just forget about him. He wasn’t any good for you anyway. You deserved a better friend, one who wasn’t in love with you and keeping your secret from Foggy just because he was selfish.

“Was she more than your friend, Matthew?”

The question broke through his thoughts, Matt’s face scrunching together in confusion at the unexpectedness of it. Why would she even ask that?

“No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “She’s just a friend. From Columbia.”

“Hmm,” Sister Maggie hummed curiously. “But you love her, don’t you?”

Matt’s teeth grit together, his jaw clenching in frustration at that question. He had been trying his best to ignore those feelings. And also–how the hell could she possibly know that?

“You flinch everytime Paul or I say her name,” she clarified. “Every time we tell you she’s been by the church crying again. It hurts you that she’s hurting. I can see it plain on your face, Matthew. It’s killing you.”

“She’s not safe being around me,” Matt ground out.

Sister Maggie scoffed loudly. “That’s bullshit and self-pity talking,” she shot back. “Clearly the woman loves you, too. Why keep up the lie? Why keep hurting her?”

Matt shook his head, his fist tightening around the bottle of water in his right hand. “She’s in love with our mutual best friend. She’s told me that already,” he gritted out. “And she’ll move on from the loss of me.”

He heard the frustrated sigh come from the nun beside him, vaguely aware of her rising back up to her feet. For some reason the thought of her leaving him alone again down here had him grinding his teeth harder together. He didn’t want to be alone. But it was better if he learned to live like that.

“I think you’re being foolish and stupid,” Sister Maggie stated bluntly. “Causing undue harm to those you love most–and it's only going to backfire on you. And if you really think that young woman repeatedly coming here doesn’t have feelings for you, you’re more foolish than I ever thought.”

Sister Maggie’s steps slowly grew fainter and fainter until he could no longer hear them anymore. His focus shifted down to the sandwich in his lap that she’d brought him, his fingers carefully tearing the paper open.

She didn’t know what she was talking about, he thought angrily to himself. Sister Maggie couldn’t possibly understand the decisions he’d made or why you kept coming to Clinton Church. He’d been one of your best friends–a shitty one, truthfully–and you were grieving. That was all.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fic #daredevil x reader #matt murdock

[nomi-c]

Drawn to you

{Bang Chan x Reader}

Wordcount: 3,5k

Genre: Best friend to lover, Smut, Pet names (sweetheart, babygirl, baby), cursing (fuck) dominant Chan, oral male receiving, unprotected intercourse (but on the pill!), fingering, trainee chan

A/n: as always with my ff's this ff isn't meant to represent the artist in any way or form.

-Minors don't read-

--

Ever since highschool Chan and you were best friends, you fell for him the moment your friend introduced him to you but you never acted upon them. Instead you watched him fall in love, and helped him through his first break up, and as time passed you saw him fall in love again, and eventually you saw him break up again.

You always were his first supporter, and his shoulder to cry on. Years and years have passed, but you? You stayed the same.

Sure you dated here and there, but it never lasted. Something always felt off and you didn't stick around long enough to find out what it was.

So right after college you and Chan decided to move together, since both of you couldn't afford the apartments on the market by yourself and you didn't mind each others company in the least.

And to say the least, it all worked well.

Both of you would split the bills and the chores and you also did movie evenings every other Saturday if your schedules allowed it.

You wished you would've done a move on him when you first met, but truth to be said you were just too scared to do so. The many bad encounters you had left ugly scars on your body just as much as on your trust towards people.

With a sigh you try to put an end to your spiraling thoughts about chan. You close your phone and place it on the nightstand before you get out of your bed. Watching the latest tiktok trends doesn't help you with the Intruiging couple trends that keep on showing on your feed.

Once up, you put on a oversized hoddie over your tanktop and dress in a random pair of sweatpants to do the chores. Since today (if you could already count it as that- seeing as it only was shortly past midnight) it's the fresh start of a new week, meaning it's your cleaning week.

Mentally checking the list you and Chan made years ago, and that you memorised and knew by heart, you knew the first point too well... cleaning the bathroom.

Both of you liked that point the least but it had to be done anyways, and this week it was on you again to keep the bathroom clean.

After leaving your room, you put your headphones in and head to the storage chamber to get the cleaning stuff you'd need.

Better get the least favorite chore done first, you think to yourself while loading your hands and hoodie pocket with cleaning supplies.

Everything around the apartment is dark, as expected at this time. Which surely is completely normal for the most people you knew... but definetly not for Chan.

Your brows furrow in confusion when you see no beam of light coming out of his room. Usually at this time he is still awake producing music for his group's debute soon, or he is with Minho and Hyunjin on parties like the famous club in town where he always wants you to accompany him to.

Shaking your head slightly you rule out the second thought right away. He would've told you if he left the house just like he always does. You think to yourself as you walk into the bathroom quietly.

Chan always used to be famous among girls, and admired and looked up to by boys up until now, and honestly? You could more than understand why.

All it took was one look of him, and one dimpled smile of him to make all the girls swoon, though he never was a player and took great care in making that clear in the thoughtful way of his. He just was a naturally flirty guy which many girls often misunderstood.

And when it came to Boys he was always a strong shoulder to lean on as well as a protector and through and through the most loyal friend to count on.

He often takes the responsibilities and matters in his hand which naturally made him the leader of basically everyone around him.

Knowing all of that, it didn't surprise you when weeks ago he happily told you that he got the position as leader of his upcoming group where Hyunjin and Minho were also a part of.

After switching on the Light you get to work fully focusing on scrubbing the floor first, before you would move to the toilet and while the toilet soaks the shower and for the very last you plan to scrub the sink. As always the music got the best of you, and soon enough you started humming and dancing to the songs.

You almost finished cleaning the floor when unexpectedly a pair of arms sneaks their way around your waist and pulls you back softly.

You try to surpress a scream as you instinctively drop the mop. Just when you're sure you calmed down enough to speak, you rip your headphones out. "God Chan you scared me to death!" You say with a annoyed grimace and a slightly shaky voice, while holding your hand to your still fast beating and aching heart.

When you look up your heartrate picks up again, but this time for a whole different reason. Your eyes connect with Chan's in the big mirror across from you, and you see his wet hair drip on your bare shoulder from where it runs down your arm slowly as he leans his head down to rest it on your shoulder.

You try to ignore the dimpled smirk he gifts you with as your eyes fall on his muscular and veiny arms that are still draped around your stomach.

You also don't fail to notice that he's not wearing a shirt as well, which for him is pretty usual except the fact that he never hugged you wet and shirtless before.

A bunch of butterflies starts roaming in your stomach at the sudden proximity of you and him and his natural body scent that you swooned over one too many times over the years.

You knew Chan could pull girls left and right without even having to try, but you never noticed just how effortlessly hot he was without even trying.

Maybe it's the fact that he's shirtless. You think to yourself, but know damn well that you saw him like that countless times before.

Your thoughts took you back to your expedition to tiktok and the new trend you saw called the Kabedon challenge. After all he's the only guy you would want to try any if those couple challenges.

What if I ask-

You mentally slap yourself for even taking this into account, as you try to regain composure which considering the fact that he is basically flush against your back, half naked and drenched in water, it's safe to say its damn near impossible.

You feel your cheeks heat up at your highly inappropriate thoughts towards him, and the euphoria you get from his slightly tighter grip around your waist.

"Why are you cleaning at this hour, sweetheart? shouldn't you be in bed already?" He asks you with a soft voice and a dimpled smile, as his thumb mindlessly starts drawing slight circles just above your belly botton.

Heat pits in your lower regions accompanied with a stong pull that causes you to press your legs together to ease some of the pressure that's building up in awful speed.

Embarrassment creeps up Inside of you at how heavily you respond to every touch and undefinable glance at you right now. You could blame it on the music, because you never listened to innocent songs, but you had to admit the songs only slightly ramped up all the emotions you've been carefully hiding away for years.

Shaking your head slowly to regain some of your senses back, you try to answer Chan's question, that damn near slipped from your mind.

"I wanted to clear my mind. Why are you here at this time? Shouldn't you make music or be out with minho and hyunjin?" You ask him quickly while trying seem calm and collected which you're pretty sure you failed miserably.

His soft Chuckle makes you turn around towards him, and you can't help but gasp as you take in all the godly glory in front of you.

"I just got out of the shower, i think you-" You hear him talk, but you can't be bothered to listen as your eyes slowly scan Chan from his dripping wet hair, over his beautiful and defined face, to his plump lips, and finally all the way down his neck where the remains of water rolled down his well defined abs.

Almost hypnotised, you follow the little glistening droplets making their way down his v line, where they get absorbed by his low hanging black sweat pants and boxershorts.

Only when you hear him slightlyclear his throat, you realise where exactly you're been staring at. Your eyes snap back up to his instantly, where you meet his deep brown eyes.

Embarrassed from being caught staring at your Best friend's body like he's a 5 star michelin dish, you quickly turn your back on him and swipe stray strands of hair out of your heated face.

While trying to avoid looking at him again, you bend down to quickly pick up the mop and get back to work. "You know, I thought I was by myself because there was no light from your room..." you begin to say but trailoff when you sense him right behind you.

When you dare to look at him again over the big mirror, you see his eyes trail over your face and neck slowly but intensely, as he turns you back around by your shoulders softly.

Your heart starts racing in your chest when his eyes land on your trembling lips.

The same lips that to your demise always began trembling when you got really nervous. And you knew in the way Chan's eyes visibly darkened, that he knew that too.

Seconds passed while you just stood there unable to move while Chan musters your face closely.

The temptation almost eats you alive to just close the small distance and risk it all. You always had little flirts here and there but it never got this far between you. You could swear by the intensity of his stare that he could actually hear your hammering heart.

And when he actually starts to lean in slowly, with his eyes trailing from your lips to your eyes and back, your brain malfunctions. "Can you pin me up against the wall?" You blurt out loudly.

Instant embarrassment hits you when you realise your words. You could've said anything else but this??

You try to hide your face behind your hands, but Chan is faster. Holding you by the wrists he pulls you close to his chest.

When you dare to look up at him still ashamed, you see a dominance and fire in his eyes that you never saw on him before "Say please." He demands with a dark and raspy voice.

Your eyes go big and you start to back up instinctively with a heart rate going surely over 100mph. You felt like the peaceful deer in the beginning of twilight that got caught by Edward and surely became his snack.

And before you fully realise what just happened, you find yourself trapped in-between Chan and the sink. For one split second you wonder if this all is a way too realistic dream, and you would wake up all too frustrated.

You take a quick flat breath when you quickly try to correct your slip up. "Chan, i didn't mean-"

Your words get stuck in your throat when he puts a finger over your lips to shush you. Your hands instinctively take a hold on his hot and damp chest to support your weak legs. "Don't tempt me sweetheart, I might actually take the offer." His voice suddenly dropping an octave.

"I-" You gulp hard in an attempt to ease the knot in your throat. Your mouth seeming dryer than the Sahara when you lick over your lips in an attempt to calm yourself down.

Chan's hot gaze tracks every slight movement of your tongue with sharp intensity before he leans close to you. "Perfection." Hearing his smoky voice right next to your ear causes your emotions to get the best of you as your knees start trembling with anticipation.

Taking a deep breath you back up enough to look into his eyes. "Please." Your voice almost sounds like a whine, which you knew would haunt you for months later on.

Chan's muscles flex for a second. "You drive me insane babygirl." He growls in your ear.

Your head falls back at the vibration of his voice on your neck. "Please pin me up against the wall Chan." You begg as the new nickname hits you like a truck.

A heartbeat later chans hands grip your waist tightly as he spins both of you around. His Hand wanders to the back of your head to soften the impact when he presses you up against the wall.

His eyes bore into yours when he pins your hands over your head single handedly, and his left leg finds its way in-between your legs.

His hot breath fans your neck softly, as his soft lips stroke over your soft spot in a feathery soft way. "Tell me to stop before I completely lose it baby." He mumbles in shallow breaths while his left hand makes its way to the hem of your top, his fingertips softly grazing the soft skin on your stomach.

Your eyes close shut at the sensation. You had boyfriends before but gosh none of them could make you feel like this, no one could compare to him. Deep down you always knew it, right from the second your eyes met. Hell you already were drenched and close to the edge and he hasn't even really done anything yet.

Taking together all courage you have in you, you open your eyes with a clarity you never felt before. Your lips find his in a tender kiss as you roll your hips against chan. A breathy gasp leaves your lips and your head falls back when you feel his big and rock hard erection pressed up against your stomach.

Both of you shudder equally at the sensation, and with a blast you see his selfcontrol evaporate. Pulling you close by your neck, his lips crash on yours in an all consuming kiss.

Your tongues instantly fight for dominace in a battle you were bound to lose and soon enough, he releases your wrists. Your hands instantly find their way into his damp hair pulling him impossibly closer to you while his hands grip you by the hips to lift you off the ground. "God you have no idea how long I imagined this to become reality." He tells you between pants.

You can't help but moan his name as you tug his hair hard, his words and the way he kisses are taking you high above the clouds and hit you like a train at the same time. "Please don't stop." You whine between kissing breaks.

"Wouldn't dream of it baby." He mumbles in your neck before taking off your hoodie, leaving you in your white tanktop with nothing underneath.

When chans heated gaze falls on your clothed breasts you feel his Dick twich on your still covered core. His breathing quickens and a strangled "fuck" leaves his lips.

Your nipples already start to hurt from being neglected which he to gladly takes care of when he pinches your nob softly though your top.

You almost scream in extasy while your back arches and your hands dig in his broad back. "Chan plase, i need you." you whine while your hands greedily travel down his defined abs trying to reach what you desire the most. With another growl he lifts you from the wall and walks both of you both to the shower in quick steps.

Without breaking the kiss, he turns on the water before he yet again presses you against the wall. When he sets you back down to the floor his right hand grabs your neck to pull you closer to him. Your hand however has a mind of its own.

Sliding your small hands into his pants, you wrap your hand around his pulsating erraction and start stroking down his length to the very tip where your thumb circles the tip and swipes away his precum.

His head falls back as a broken moan leaves his lips. "Fuck Y/n." Your core contracts painfully by the heavenly sounds he makes when you additionaly start to kiss and lick down his defined abs making your way down to your knees.

Once down, you look back up at him with big and innocent eyes that doesn't match the evil smirk that decorates your lips.

Another growl leaves his lips at your sight. All wet and your tits on display beneath the white tanktop. He leans against the wall to cover you from the stream of the rain shower you both insisted on getting when you moved in.

Still smirking, you pull down his sweats and boxers in a swift motion, enjoying the view of his big erection springing free before your eyes.

You don't waste a second and slide your tongue along his shaft and peck his tip before you lick your lips to get a tiny taste of him already. A needy moan leaves his plump lips along with a incomprehensive needy mumble.

You feel his leg muscles flex under hands when you wrap your lips around him and start bobbing your head in a slow pace, while closely observing his facial expressions.

Chan shudders notably, a loud moan leaving his lips. With another painful tug in your core you add your hand to cover all of him where your mouth doesn't reach just yet.

His right hand that doesn't support him reaches down to your head where he softly caresses you.

Looking up at him once again, you take all of him in and hardly suppress a gag. He moans your name loudly as his hand starts to fist your hair harshly, as his hips start to rock instinctively towards your mouth.

Your watering eyes connect as you pick up speed and ignore the barely hidden moans and gags your neighbors would surely hear.

Your hand travels down to your pants, which you pull down quickly and insert a finger soon enougn a second one in yourself to ease your heavy want to feel him deep inside of you. Matching chans pace you pump your fingers at a fast pace while each moan of you makes him curse throaty in-between moans. The drizzling water from the shower and worries about your neighbours being long ago forgotten and overpowered by each of his moans and thrusts of his hips.

You feel your climax building up strong and rapidly when he twiches inside your mouth indicating that he's close, and right before both of you fall apart, Chan pulls out and pulls you back up heavily panting. Your forheads connect as the warm water starts to drizzle on your overheated body once again. "I want to burry myself deep inside of you and fuck you senseless baby" nodding, a whine leaves your lips when you mouth a incomprehensible answer.

Heavily panting chan leans forward and kisses you passionately before he pulls back. "are you on the pill?" He asks you as his lips kiss down your body and his hands pull your tanktop down just enough for him to take one of your nipples in his mouth and start softly sucking on while his other hand massaged the other.

Your back arches as your hands grip chans hair tightly, once again feeling on the edge.

Collecting your last braincells, you answer his question. "I was about to stop taking them.... but wanted to end the package first-" Chans doesn't wait for your full answer when his lips crash back on yours as he rips your shirt off of you in a flowing motion before he tosses it somehere around you.

You feel him smirk against your lips. "Good girl"

Without warning he lifts you up again and slides into you, streching you out to the limit. Both if you moan at the incredible feel of it.

He kisses you fiercely as his hand flicks and squeezes your aching nipple. He holds still inside of you and only when you nod against his neck he starts starts to move.

Your eyes roll back by the exquisite stretch with each strong stroke of him. Your mind goes more blank with every hard thrust, each kiss, and each rough moan that leaves his soft lips.

Your mouth hangs open and mumbles his name in-between your loud moans. Chans lips travel to your neck where he kisses and sucks on your sensitive spot causing you to yelp as your core contracts against his length. "Chan....Close..." you pant as your whole body starts to shake for the second time and you start seeing starts.

Chan grabs your wrists again and pins them above your head, his hips shuddering slightly. "Did you want to get pinned against the wall like this?"He asks you with yet another strong thrust of his hips and squeez of your breast.

You whimper nodding your head heavily. His lips catch yours fiercely once again as he pulls on your bottom lip with a slight tug. "With me being inside of you, fucking you senseless and claiming each and every piece of your beautiful body as mine?" A particularly loud moan leaves your lips at balls deep thrust that emphasised word mine. "Y-yes."

Chan picks up even more speed kissing you all over your face and neck as he pulls your left leg up further to reach you deeper and thats when you fall apart, his lips land on yours in heartbeat to catch your scream of relieve as the tidal wave hits you hard. With every kiss and every thrust, and roll of his hips you whisper his name against his burning skin and shortly after you he reaches his high too while calling out your name.

Between small kisses and each moan of your name you both come down from your high. You don't know how much time has passed with both of you kissing each other and you still being burried deep inside of him, before he slowly slides out of you with a shaky breath.

Your eyebrow rises when you feel him getting hard against your stomach once again. After lifting up your eyes again you see him smirk before his face gets serious, and he gives you a kiss on your forhead, His hand caressing your cheek softly. "I like you Y/n." He tells you in a gentle voice, as he turns back into the sweet, loving and caring boy you knew.

A big mile spreads on your lips when you begin to speak. "I like you too Chan, ever since the moment I met you."

Chans eyes widen in surprise before he breaks out into the widest smile you ever saw on him.

His lips connect with yours in a gentle and loving kiss as he carefully carries you out of the bathroom. You give him a questioning look as he guides you to his room.

Chan laughs softly, as he opens the door skillfully with one elbow. "I fucked you as your best friend, its only fair that I love you as your boyfriend now."

You Kiss him softly and smile against his lips. "Boyfriend" you repeat in a dreamy voice.

Your gasp in surprise when Chan lays you down on his bed softly. The dim Red led lights hugging his delicately sexy frame in all the right ways when he leans above you. "Chan- we drench the bed...."

Chan kisses you slowly as his hand draws soft circles on your stomach once again. "Doesn't matter baby, we have you bed and the couch as well, which I'm sure we will definitely make good use of too later."

--

Authors note: I tried to proof read the ff for any mistakes, but maybe I didn't catch all mistakes.😅 But I still hope I did a good job with this ff that spontaneously roamed my mind. (After stumbling on that pin me against the wall part from one of his lives) 😂

#kpop #stray kids smut #stray kids #kpop ff #bang chan #lee know #lee felix #changbin #i.n skz #seungmin #hwang hyunjin #bang chan x reader #skz imagines #skz #skz smut

[notiddygxthgf]

1/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: hi pookie dookies!! ive been wanting to write choso for a while!! this is a one shot I split into two chapters bc its like, 11k words.... but! if u guys request it, I might add more chapters!!! thank u for ur support as always, muah muah!! (btw if u like tokyo rev go check out my other shit teehee).

★ w.c.; 4.5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI ITADORI WAS truly the best friend a girl like you could ask for. The two of you were kind of like childhood friends, though you hadn’t been close for a good portion of it. You didn’t remember the exact day Itadori had invited you into his home – though you knew it was some time in elementary school. The two of you had been practically inseparable ever since. 

There was one thing about the pinkette’s home life in particular that seemed to catch your young eye. 

His older brother, Choso.

He was two years your senior – dark hair, dark eyes, he looked nothing like his brother. He had this scar over the bridge of his nose from an accident that had happened when he was younger. He was an elusive figure, something of a mystery to your young mind – he was always there, but never there.  

He was content to dwell in the background like some sort of side character. 

The first time you’d ever met him had been at one of Itadori’s baseball games. He’d invited you to show up – and at this point you had to have been no older than 8 or 9 – and show out for him. And show out you sure did. 

You had your mother do your hair up real nice in those cute little pigtails you used to love wearing. You had scribbled his jersey number onto a plain white tee the night before, donning some hot pink leggings beneath.

And you screamed for Itadori, cheered as loud as your little lungs would allow you to. He won, of course, but that’s not the point here. You’d gone up to him after the game, wrapping your short arms around his frame – and at the time he was no larger than you were – and telling him he’d done great. Itadori grinned at you, faint blush dusting his cheeks, and thanked you. His smile was a thousand suns in one.

A hand on his shoulder had shaken the two of you out of the moment. A bigger hand.

It was his 11-year-old adoptive brother, Choso Kamo. An angel of the darkness, as corny as that sounds, but in that moment you swore the gates of heaven resided in those dark eyes of his. He stood out against the bright backdrop of the September afternoon. The sunlight filtered through his short black hair, reflected off of his pale skin, shooting rays right into your stomach and sending a horde of butterflies fluttering.

“This your girlfriend, Yuuji?” He commented with a half-grin.

You remember turning red at his comment, waving your arms around wildly. You remember the way his eyes creased as he laughed at you, one of the few times you recall seeing him laugh.

So what if you had heart eyes for your best friend’s older brother? It was harmless, just a little crush you had formed on the guy you felt had stolen your heart away. Harmless. 

At least, it was until the two of you grew older. You started junior high, you started puberty , and as your body changed, so did his. So did your feelings, morphing from a butterfly crush to something more akin to desire as you began to see him in a different light.

He lost the baby fat around his face. His eyes had darkened, shoulders broadening. His hair got longer, falling into his boyish, scarred face in a way that rendered you entirely breathless. 

He was becoming a man.

You were 13 and 15 now, stealing sneaky glances at him whenever he would pass by his brother’s room. Yuji, who had just been boasting about how he was starting to get taller than you, would pay it no mind.

It was just a crush. He was two years your senior, after all. You had no chance.

You were 13 when he would poke fun at you and his brother. He was 15 when he would laugh at the way your face would go red. He didn’t know that it wasn’t his brother you wanted.

14 and 16 when you first began to notice the subtle slope of his shoulders become more pronounced, more defined. When you began to notice the way his muscles would strain against the sleeves of his tee shirt. 

He had always been a large guy, having hit quite a few growth spurts along the way. He had to have been about 5’10 at that point, practically towering over you. But lately, you thought he must have been hitting the gym. He would walk past Yuji’s open door – and in their house it was a family policy to leave the door open when you came over, even if Yuji was only a brother to you – with gym gear on. He would come back with sweat-slicked hair plastered to his forehead, chest rising and falling steadily.

Something about that made your hormones go wild for him. Inappropriate thoughts began to chew away at you from the inside, images of what he could do to you with such strength, even if you weren’t too certain what ‘doing’ even entailed at that time. The scent of his pheromones, something like that – or maybe it was the way his gym clothes hugged his body while he marched towards the bathroom to take a shower – it made you feral for him.

He was so much bigger than you now. It made your head spin with feelings you didn’t quite understand. It was just a crush… so why did you stay awake at night imagining him panting over you, sweat trickling down his bare chest? The way his muscles might ripple under your hesitant, inexperienced touch? The warmth that would bloom over your face when you imagined his lips on yours – this man who you had never gotten close to.

A man who you remembered having a late night conversation with in the kitchen while Yuuji slept right down the hall one night.

He was ransacking the cabinet for snacks when you found him. He relaxed once he’d noticed it was you, the two of you eventually falling into sugar-fueled conversation after he cracked open a pack of double-stuff oreos. A conversation about the taboo , about the things you had been told to keep quiet.

“You don’t have to be all flustered ‘round me, y’know,” He had told you rather softly. The two of you were separated by the kitchen island, but it felt like he was way to close to you. “You can ask me anything you’re curious about.”

“I’m not curious!” You had whisper-shouted back with a roll of your eyes. “I don’t want to know about your sex life, you whore.”

“You just asked me what it felt like, liar,” He noted, quirking a brow at your outward reaction. He loved to get under your skin. Lived for it. “And for the record, I’m not a whore. Most of the times I’ve been touched have been with my own hand.”

“I’ve never tried… that, ” You mused quietly, head low. Your face burned with the heat of your admission. 

He popped an oreo into his mouth, dusting his hands off carelessly. “What, masturbating?”

Your heart did a weak somersault. “Quiet!” You hissed at him. “Now what if Yuuji heard you talking to me like that?”

“Calm your shit,” he told you. “You’re too young f’me. Relax.”

He only chuckled at your words, shaking his head quietly while he resealed the oreos. Still, if he was thinking anything about your reaction, he didn’t voice it. You were glad.

But it hurt. It hurt, hearing him talk about you like you didn’t have a chance. Like none of the effort you put into your appearance around him had any effect on him because you were too young to steal his attention away. None of it mattered – the push up bras, the low cut tanks, the cherry lip balm. 

In his eyes, you were only a kid.

“I’m a virgin,” you had blurted out, for some odd reason you still didn’t quite understand.

The pause that befell the two of you was one that you remembered years later. 

“I can tell,” He had said, slim waist swinging side to side as he walked around the kitchen island, towards the exit behind you. He sauntered over to you with a smirk on his face and a plate in his hand, dark hair pulled back into a bun while his layers fell around his face. He was breathtaking, handsome, tantalizing build towering over you.

16, A man whose voice had dropped again in the last few months whispered those words, the ones you would never forget, “‘S fun. You should try it.”

You didn’t know what he had wanted you to try – having sex or performing it on yourself.

Either way, that night when you went home was the first time you ever tried to touch yourself. Fantasized about him whispering in your ear, holding you down, talking you through – while your pink-manicured fingers worked you up to your first orgasm.

Two years had never felt so far apart.

Choso had a girlfriend at one point. It was only for, like, four months – he was 17, you were 15. You only found this out when he’d come home after a pretty rough night with her. He looked pissed, lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You knew he was too old for you, that you weren’t old enough for him, more specifically – but, still, you batted those lashes of yours up at him while you asked him what was wrong.

You didn’t tell him about the way butterflies erupted in your stomach like a hundred angry guisers when he told you his girlfriend had cheated, left him for another man. 

You hugged him instead, telling him that it would be alright, telling him that she never deserved him anyway. You were the one for him, and one day he would see that.

Instead of turning to you – who had been right there all along, he had just been too blind to notice – he took his anger out on everyone else. He became cold, emotionally closed off. He became a serial heartbreaker. 

For a while, whenever you came over to Yuuji’s, his bedroom would be vacant. Open, dark, just as he had left it. For a while, he would spend his nights with faceless hookups and meaningless dates. Itadori would call you to complain about it, about how “we’re home alone for dinner tonight and Choso just walked out”.

Your heart broke, too. He just didn’t know it.

He didn’t know you were waiting for him to come to his senses, for him to see you as a woman .

You were seated in the kitchen across from Itadori enjoying another late-night snack, sharing some hearty laughter. You had always adored your conversations with him, the ‘After-Hours’ talks, as you would often refer to them. 

Your night had taken an unexpected turn when Itadori’s brother burst through the kitchen door with a giggling girl in tow. The late hour suggested that this was no ordinary visit.

Still, even though you couldn’t pry your eyes away from her, you didn’t say anything. You stayed quiet while your heart shattered into one hundred million pieces inside of your tight chest.

Itadori’s laughter had died down, giving way to an awkward silence. He greeted his brother with a smile, “Hey, bro. Who’s she?”

Choso shrugged, dark hair shifting over his eyes that seemed to glint beneath the dim lighting as he replied, “Company.”

His mischievous tone and the girl at his side left little to the imagination. Your cheeks flushed as you exchanged another quick glance with Itadori.

You felt frozen in place. You couldn’t move. No, all you could do was sit there like a dumbass and stare at him, watch the man you loved liked guide her by her hand up the stairs. 

Of course. You had been naive to think that he would wait for you. He would be 18 next year. 

He was out of your league.

Feeling the need for a momentary escape, you had excused yourself, muttering something about needing to use the bathroom. You had stood up, heart racing, and made your way up the stairs and towards the bathroom.

Conveniently, of course, it was located just down the hall from Choso’s room.

You crept down the hall slowly. As you passed by his door, you caught a sound. Something unmistakable – two people in hushed conversation uttering words in between kisses. 

“Choso, baby.” 

Another quiet kiss. Their lips separated.

“I’m ready.” 

“You brought protection?” 

Your embarrassment grew as you realized the intimate nature of the encounter happening on the other side of the door. Quickly, you averted your gaze, face burning, and ran off to the bathroom.

It took you a moment to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe the awkwardness of the whole situation. Shit, you didn’t even know how to approach him after this.

Worst of all, you didn’t even know why you were still only able to imagine it was your voice behind that door instead of hers. That it was him pressing butterfly kisses to your lips. Him asking you if you were ready for him.

With your cheeks tinged a rosey hue, you resolved to keep yourself locked away in the bathroom until the thoughts subsided.

It seemed like it was a new girl every time you came to visit. A blonde, a brunette – he didn’t seem to have a preference. Every time you would watch him walk another girl to the front door, bidding her safe travels on her way home, your hope would wither away.

But the feelings never subsided. No, even when you would spend a little more time walking past his room on your way to the bathroom to eavesdrop. Not even when you would hear hushed whispers and quiet moans from the other side and imagine what kind of lover Choso would be. Would he leave marks? Talk dirty to you? Was he a giver or a taker? 

Not even when the two of you would cross paths in the kitchen after his plans for the evening went home. He would turn to you with a knowing smirk, hair down and messy even though it did nothing to hide the red and purple love bites that littered the valley of his neck. 

And he looked so good that you often found yourself wishing it was you who had left those marks. 

It was as if he knew you were dying inside. Like something was beginning to change inside of him after all of these years. Like he took some strangely cruel pleasure in showing off to you.

No, you would have to remind yourself in vain. I’m too young for him. 

You were just a girl in his eyes. That’s what you maintained.

So you went out and retaliated by losing your V-card to some kid from your class. Well, in your head it was retaliation. He was none the wiser about it, but it gave you a sense of satisfaction knowing you were able to fuck people who weren’t him. 

Take that, Choso. 

Yuji groaned, laying spread eagle over his carpeted floor, arms spread out on either side of him. He had grown so much – you could hardly contain the way your eyes wandered from his pretty face to his new physique. Like his brother, Itadori was a well-defined man.

God picked favorites, and it wasn’t you.

There was an open notebook splayed over his face. He gripped the spine, tossing it to the side. 

“I’m over this chemistry shit,” He sighed.

You couldn’t possibly have agreed more. Still, you continued to sketch the rough outline of a circle onto the sheet of construction paper in your hand. You would need to make it perfect, just right, so that you would be able to incorporate it into your group project.

You turned the pencil over between your fingertips. “We’re gonna need more supplies.”

"Like what?" Yuuji asked, his frustration still evident. "I’m pretty sure we’ve purchased, like… every craft supply on the market."

You quirked a brow at the thought. "Scissors…?"

Yuuji pursed his lips, his brow furrowing. "I don’t have those."

"Of course you don’t," you sighed, shaking your head. "Who the hell doesn’t have scissors?"

"I lent them to Choso," he retorted with a hint of annoyance.

Your heart dropped at the mention of Choso. You couldn't help but picture his face, his body, and wondered if he was asleep. You didn't want to disturb him.

Yuuji sat up, nudging you with his foot playfully. "Hey, why don't you go over there and get them? Make some goo-goo eyes, bat your lashes. I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to you."

You hesitated for a moment, considering your options. "I'm sure I can find some in my backpack," you said instead, trying to avoid the suggestion.

"Come onnnn, you know you wanna go over there," Yuuji teased with a sly grin. He leaned in closer, cupping his hand around his mouth, and whispered, " He just got back from the gym. "

Another nudge from Yuuji finally made you relent. "Fine," you said with a playful roll of your eyes. "I’ll be back."

Only moments later, you found yourself standing in front of Choso's door, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you as you raised your hand up to knock. You rapped twice against the wooden surface. There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the world, one that made your heartrate pick up, and then the door cracked open.

He had one earbud in his ear, the other dangling over his chest. He wore a black wife pleaser and some grey sweats that hung loose over his hips – leaving little to the imagination. He looked so strong, muscular arm braced against the doorframe while the other held it open. His waist was thin, toned, so much so that you could see it through the fabric of his shirt.

He smelled like he had just hopped out of the shower – like cherry and musk. His wet hair was done back into a messy bun. His eyes raked over your trembling form.

With a gentle, familiar grin, he said, “What’s up?”

Your throat felt dry. You swallowed anyway, with a great deal of discomfort, averting your wide-eyed gaze. Ignoring the way your eyes lingered over the pale skin of his toned navel revealed where his tank had ridden up, over the v line that dipped down into his waistband, over the neatly trimmed trail that led down south . 

“Do… Do you have scissors?” You asked him. You didn’t like how timid you sounded, or the way your stomach churned at the sight of him.

He paused for a moment, and somehow you knew he was looking at you. You were suddenly very glad you had worn a fitted v-neck tee shirt today, one that would have provided him with a bird’s eye view of your cleavage.

He’s looking at me. 

“Yeah,” he muttered quietly, stepping away from the door and into his room. You had only wandered into Choso’s quarters a few times with Yuuji, usually to steal something from him while he wasn’t home. You had never really taken the time to notice the band posters taped up over his walls, the black sheets on his bed, the clothes scattered over his floor in typical teenage boy fashion.

You poked your head in, taking a quick look around while his muscular back was turned. Ultimately, it was him you wound up gawking at, hungry eyes following the well-defined curve of his back into his slim waist, the curve of his bubble butt.

You looked away just as he had turned around. If he noticed you staring, he didn’t say anything. A red pair of scissors dangled from his curled finger. 

“Here,” was all he said, offering the tool to you. 

You didn’t know when conversations between the two of you had gotten to be so tense, so strained. It used to come effortlessly. These days, however, it seemed as if you were always trying to run away from conversation with him.

You took it from him gently, dying a bit more inside when his large fingers brushed against yours, offering a slight nod in return. “Thanks.”

16 and 18, now.

You had texted Choso asking for his help on a particularly difficult math assignment. He was older, after all, you didn’t doubt that he was better equipped to complete the homework than you were.

That was the first time you had ever hung out alone with him. Without Itadori. 

You would never forget the way the atmosphere changed when he sat close to you at the kitchen table. The way your skin prickled with electricity beneath his hesitant touch. He poked fun at you and your incompetence. You didn’t even care, not when he was sitting so close to you.

Alone.

The possibilities that filled your mind were less than holy.

Tensions were at an all time high. He had leaned over to help you, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, when it finally snapped.

When you met his gaze with uncertainty in your eyes, making no real effort to put any distance between you and the man you had been pining after for so many years. In that moment, you saw it – saw him, saw that he finally looked at you as something more than just a girl.

Saw the way his gaze softened as he leaned into you. You let him get closer, close enough that his nose brushed against the tip of yours. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You remarked, even though you ached to be trapped in this moment with him a while longer.

He licked his lips, murmuring, “You’re probably right.”

Nothing compared to the delicate brush of his lips against yours as the two of you finally met in the middle, The way fireworks blew up in your gut. The way he cradled your cheek gently in the palm of his hand, crossing that unspoken boundary that the two of you had been toeing for so long.

Though you had made out with a few guys before, in your eyes, you had shared your first kiss with Choso in the kitchen that night. The first of many to come .

The summer between 16 and 17 was spent sharing secret moments with him behind doors, between appearances. 

You sat on the couch next to Itadori, trapped in the second installment of a film series the two of you had been watching yesterday. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie over your school uniform. 

You had come over to do homework. Just like yesterday, though, you wound up fucking around. 

Itadori was far too engrossed in whatever was happening on screen to notice his brother leaving the kitchen just a few feet off to the side. He looked you up and down, dark eyes reaching into your soul and picking you apart at the seams. With a barely noticeable motion, he nodded towards the stairs.

You nodded back, heart thrumming wildly in your chest.

Choso gripped the meat of your ass in his hands, throwing your legs around his waist while his mouth danced against yours. You tossed your arms around his shoulders, head reeling from how effortlessly he had picked you up. He walked the two of you backwards until your back hit the door. 

He continued to ravage you against that surface, too, tongue slipping in between your lips and exploring your mouth. You trembled against him, trying your best to keep up with him.

It felt so good – being pressed up against him, being given his attention. You wished it was more than secret kisses here and there, of course, but you would take what you could get.

“Missed you,” he hummed against your lips. 

You didn’t even care if that was the line he used on all of the other girls. In that moment, all that mattered was his lips against yours, his hands on you, his attention.

You snaked your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, twisting some of the dark strands between your fingertips. “I should really get back soon,” You gasped, relishing in the way his kisses felt up and down your neck.

He relented, letting you down. You pressed one more chaste kiss to his lips.

“Didn’t mean to keep ‘ya,” he chuckled lowly, breaths still heavy from the makeout session you had been having only seconds before. He nodded towards the door behind you. “Get back out there.”

You nodded wordlessly, opening the door. With one final smile, you slipped behind it. You felt like you were floating as your legs carried you down the stairs and into the living room. You didn’t even care how disheveled you looked.

Thankfully, Yuuji didn’t notice the way you were wiping your mouth on the back of your hand as you plopped onto the couch beside him. He also didn’t notice when his brother wandered down the stairs a few minutes later, or the way he smiled knowingly at you before disappearing into the kitchen.

You were 17 when Choso left for college. He was 19 when his brother had thrown him a going-away party.

There were 10 of you in the living room, a few of Yuuji and his childhood friends all gathered around the coffee table. A movie was on. Some of them were engrossed in a card game in the corner of the room. 

You and Choso lingered behind the group, situated comfortably on the couch behind all of the action. He was sitting so close that your thighs brushed against his, so close that it felt like he, too, wanted to savor the moment before interacting with you became a rarity. Before he moved out and started a new life somewhere hours away.

He didn’t voice any of these feelings, keeping his dark eyes unreadable and steady on the movie that Yuji had put on in the background. Selena Gomez was playing from a speaker somewhere behind the couch.

You almost wanted to lean your head on his shoulder. Almost. Never mind the fact that everyone would see it.

You distinctly remember the way he shifted closer to you when you pulled out a blanket. You let him make the bold move, seemingly unfazed by the potential audience only feet away from the two of you. 

He tossed the plush blanket over his legs. The lights were dim. Dim enough that they wouldn’t see the way your face flushed at the proximity.

Sixteen minutes passed. You felt like you were going to explode.

Somewhere along the way, though it’s all a bit fuzzy now, you remember feeling his hand creep down beneath the blanket to rest on your thigh. You fought to remain composed, even though the darkness undoubtedly shrouded whatever it was that Choso was planning to do.

He lingered over the skin on your thighs left bare by the shorts you had chosen to wear. His finger traced over you, igniting fire in your nerves. Again, you said nothing, letting him go about tracing shapes on your thigh while his face remained stoic and composed.

You glanced between him and the blanket. You couldn’t see the imprint of his hand moving, somehow, but you could practically feel the heat radiating from beneath it when his index finger slipped between your thighs. 

19 years old. Two years had never seemed so far apart. When he was the age you were now, you recalled his voice being quite a few pitches higher. The same voice that had dropped even lower over the last year, now drawing you closer to him as he murmured into your ear, “Can I touch you?”

Parting your legs infinitesimally, you wordlessly granted him entrance. His fingers dipped down, ghosting over your cotton panties in a way that had you wondering how well of a disguise the dim lighting really was.

“What if they see us?” You had whispered back, even quieter. None of them had bothered to turn back. Even still, you wondered if one of them had X-Ray vision.

His voice seemed even deeper as it vibrated against your side. “You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you?”

The moment his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your panties, you knew you were in no position to disagree.

Yuuji and his friends were none the more wiser. Yuji didn’t notice when you whined quietly, letting him slip two fingers into your aching cunt, or when his brother worked you open on his fingers. 

He didn’t notice when the two of you had left to make out heatedly in the pantry, right against the box of assorted chips, right where anyone could walk in, turn on the light, and see you there pressed up against him disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

It would be another three months before you would see Choso again.

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #choso kamo #kamo choso #choso #choso jjk #choso x reader #choso kamo xreader #choso kamo x you #choso x you #chousou #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #yuuji itadori #itadori x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #choso smut #choso fluff

[ro-written]

Only You - C.San

Tags/Warnings: Boxer!San, kinda sorta tsundere!reader if you squint but not really, best friends to lovers, fighting/violence, blood, fluff, yall this was supposed to be less than 1k….and this is so not proofread but fuck it we ball

Word Count: 3.5k

Playlist:

“Are We Still Friends” by Tyler the Creator “Baby Boy” by Kevin Abstract “only you” by karri

You watched with bated breath as San went to the corner of the ring, blood and a dark bruise gathered at the corner of his mouth. Your nails dug into your palms as you clenched your fists in anticipation. You knew that he could take care of himself, he’s spent years learning various martial arts, has been in the ring more times than you could count. 

So why are you always on edge when you watch him fight? Why does your heart race with every punch?

Wooyoung sprayed water from the bottle he had on the side right onto San’s mouth, using a towel swung over his shoulder to dab at the sweat and blood on his face. San tilted his head back, resting against the post behind the stool he was spread on. Woo tilted in to whisper something into San’s ear, something that caused his eyes to blink open and scan the crowd. Eventually, his eyes landed on you, and you saw his lip twitch a bit, before taking a hand and moving Woo off his shoulder, never leaving your gaze. You gave him a little nod, a small semblance of motivation, and put a fist up. It was your silent way of telling him to get up and kick his ass.

And so with your encouragement, San stood back up, body relaxed and you watched as you knew what was to come next. You had seen this move a hundred times by now to know exactly what to look for in his bodily movements. 

The opponent steps forward with a cocky grin, ready to continue his onslaught of punches. But San simply looks at him, eyebrow raised, before swinging his body around, launching himself into the air. It was all so quick, yet it felt like time stopped as his foot collided with his opponent’s face.

The crowd silenced for a split second, everyone holding their breaths. That was until Wooyoung jumped into the ring, stack of cash in hand, and went directly to the opponent, counting down on his fingers right in the man’s unconscious face. After three counts, with no sign of fight from the opponent, the crowd went into an uproar.

You jumped from your chair, and yelled out San’s name, cheering him on from your seat. You could see the tiredness in his eyes, but his excitement overshadowed it. You watched as Wooyoung took San’s hand and raised it up, crowning him the champion of the match. Eventually, people pushed up onto the mat and crowded around San, leaving Woo to leave and collect the betting money from all the losers. However, before he stepped away, San grabbed his collar lightly to hold him back, leaning in to whisper something into his ear. Woo simply nodded, waving his hand at his friend, before walking away, still collecting the money.

You observed as San gave his signature smile to everyone surrounding him, even with the busted lip and bruising at the corner of his mouth. His eyes curved into crescents, dimples appearing as he talked to his fans and signed whatever they were jutting out in front of him. It made your chest flutter, seeing him go from this scary and cold rough boxer to your warm, kind-hearted best friend. 

“Hey,” a voice called out to the side of you, hand landing gently on your arm. You jumped at the feeling, before relaxing once you realized it was Woo. A smile cracked across your face. “Hey Youngie, how’d yall make out?” You gestured your head towards the cash in his hand. He looked down and smirked, slapping the stack against his hand.

“Not too terrible, I’d say. I still have to make some more rounds before people try to sneak out on me, but hey, Sannie said he wanted to see you in the back.” He looked over at the man still in the ring talking to people, now signing some man’s arm. It made you chuckle as you watched the various people fawn over him. But you could see something. It was a split second, but you caught it nonetheless. As someone’s hand came down to pat his back, his face winced, but he quickly cleared it up before anyone could notice.

Anyone but you and Woo, of course.

“Please check on him,” his eyebrows were taut, worry written across his face. “You know how he can get after fights. Make him rest.” His eyes found yours, and his usual playfulness wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“I’ll try. If he actually listens though is the thing.” You offered up a half smile as Wooyoung laughs out.

“Please, only you could tell him to fight a mountain lion with one hand tied behind his back and blindfolded and he would do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.” His playful smirk was back on his face as you rolled your eyes. You wanted to poke at him and tell him to not overexaggerate so much, but you couldn’t. It was true, and you knew it. You were one of, if not the only, person San would listen to no matter what. Perks of being his best friend for such a long time.

“You know how to get to the back?” Woo pointed over his shoulder to a door with a red sign on it. Staff Only. You nodded, having been back there a handful of times before his matches to wish him luck and give him a hug. Woo nodded, giving you a quick one-armed hug, before leaving off to get the rest of his and San’s money. 

You shouldered your way through the bustling crowd, trying to keep a straight line toward the door. Finally reaching it after what felt like forever, you pushed it open, slipping through and ensuring no one followed behind you. The last thing you’d want is San being mobbed in the locker room while he was trying to have his own time.

The locker room wasn’t like the typical locker room you had in school. You remembered how surprised you felt when you first walked into it. It was a smaller square room, the left wall lined with cubbies for people to put their items away in. One of them was filled with San’s belongings, while the others remained empty, save for a medical kit. On the right was a long couch that took up most of the wall, and two rolling chairs sat near it. In the corner next to the couch was a small refrigerator for people to put away the water bottles and any other items they needed to keep cold. The walls were covered in red brick, and the flooring was a black Berber carpet. Probably so no one could see the stains…

You made yourself comfortable on the couch, not knowing when San would be able to peel himself away from his fans. Picking at your nails, you could only think back to the way San looked at you before he ended the match. Something in his eyes seemed different, an emotion you don’t remember ever seeing in him. You couldn’t quite place it though, and it was frustrating. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what every face, every quirk of his eyebrow, every curl of his lip was saying. You wondered if you were simply overthinking it. Maybe he was just trying to find some sort of encouragement outside of Woo. Maybe he was just making sure you were watching his signature move so he could ask you later how cool you thought it was for the millionth time.

You shook your head, trying to clear it of his sly smirk and pretty dimples.

Suddenly, you heard a click at the door, and your eyes shot up from where they were staring at your hands. You watched as San walked in, hair wet and a new set of clothes on, turning around to lock the door behind him to keep from being pestered while trying to rest. His shoulders sagged from their usual position, something that had you quirk your head to the side. He took a lot of pride in having such a perfect posture, so you knew he had to be beyond tired at this point. He rested his forehead against the door, giving you a chance to take note of all the various bruises not hidden by his clean white tank that had already formed or were forming along his arms and back. You could see a cut on his shoulder that had blood slowly forming around the edges.

“Sannie,” Your voice called out quietly to not startle him. He lifted his head off the door, turning around to see you. In an instant, his face brightened up, a smile gracing his features for a second before the pain took over and his bruised hand came up to his lip. You stood up and walked over to grab his arm, leading him over to the couch. He let you push him down against it gently before you moved over to grab the medical kit and come back to him. You sat down next to him, opened the kit, and guided his head to face you. The cuts and bruises littering his face made you tsk and shake your head a bit, before letting his chin go.

“Well hello to you too.” He smirked and winced again at the pain. You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile playing on your lips at hearing his voice full of playfulness.

“You’re an idiot, letting him get this many hits on you.” You murmured, eyes looking through the kit to find ointment and alcohol wipes.

“Wow, not even a congratulations?” He feigned hurt, grabbing at his chest as his eyebrows furrowed together.

“You don’t need a congratulation from me, San. I knew you were going to win from the start.” You pulled out one of the wipe packets and started dabbing at the cut on his arm lightly, letting him get used to the stinging sensation of the alcohol before pressing any harder. You felt goosebumps stick up on his arm as you held his arm to keep steady. One side of his mouth quirked up in amusement, showing a bit of his teeth.

“You knew I’d win?”

“Yes, San. I always know you’re gonna win.” You grabbed one of the ointment packets out and ripped it, pushing a bit of the paste on your finger. You gently spread it across the cut until it was fully covered.

“And why’s that?” You looked up to see his eyes fixed on you, watching every movement. Your body froze under his intense eyes, face heating up. But you shook it off quickly, setting the ointment packet down to grab one of the bandaids from the kit.

“Because,” you split the bandaid wrapper. “You’re the best there is.” You placed the bandaid that wasn’t quite the honey tone of his skin on top of the cut to keep it clean. It wasn’t a lie, there was no one else you could think of that fought with the intensity and precision he did. You looked up again to see his eyes were still trained on your face, his ever-present smirk still there.

“Yeah?” His tone was cocky, and you had to remind yourself that you were in the middle of bandaging him up to tear your eyes away.

Something was different. Typically, even when it was just you two, you would playfully flirt, not ever meaning anything serious about it. You had been best friends for years, and you were comfortable with each other. You told each other everything and nothing ever felt off or awkward. So why did you feel so tense right now? Why did it feel like all your senses were turned to 11? You let out a breath as a way to bring yourself back to the task.

“Yes. Now, stop talking so I can take care of these cuts.” You gave him a pointed look, a look he was definitely familiar with when you were trying to get his stubborn ass to do something. He nodded with a hum, and you grabbed your wipe again, making sure you had a clean part of it, before wiping at the cut on his cheek. The position was awkward, having to slightly contort his head and neck so that you could reach it.

“Why don’t you– Just– Here.” He never fully finished his sentence before he was grabbing your waist and pulled you into his lap, causing you to let out a sharp inhale at the sudden shift. Your body was frozen yet again. Both of you had been close before, especially with how touchy San could be, always wanting to have skinship. You had even woken up a handful of times after sleepovers (aka you both had too much to drink after partying and you refused to let him leave out so drunk) with his arm wrapped around you. But you had never had this before. Sitting in his lap, faces inches away, his hands still resting on your waist.

“This okay?” He asked, searching in your eyes for something. You realized you had been staring at him with your hands frozen in front of you, and you finally moved after you processed his voice.

“Ye–ahem–Yeah, this is good. Better.” You got out, getting back to work and patching his face up. Your wipe moved from the cut on his cheek to the bruise at the corner of his mouth, gently dabbing at it to clean up the dried blood he managed to miss in his shower. Luckily, you didn’t find a cut there and used your thumb to move his skin around a bit to make sure you didn’t miss anything before grabbing the ointment again and using your finger to spread it out on the cut on his cheek. 

You tried not to think too much about how you could smell the refreshing scent of his body wash. Or how his hair smelled a bit like peppermint. Or how warm his hands felt still holding on to your waist. How you could see and feel his eyes watching you carefully as if he wanted to say something. You grabbed a smaller bandaid from the kit and placed it across the gash to make sure it healed well.

“Done.” You stated with a shaky breath as you gathered up all the trash and moved off his lap. You turned around to find the trashcan and didn’t catch the slight slump of his shoulders when the pressure and warmth of your body on his was gone. You tossed the trash and came back over, grabbing a rolling chair to bring in front of him and sit in.

“It was a pretty intense fight, Sannie. You let him get a few good hits I know you could have blocked. So…why?” You propped your legs up on the couch next to him, careful to not accidentally kick him with your close proximity. He leaned his body back to rest against the couch, arms coming up to drape across the back of it, and his legs extended on either side of your chair. You couldn’t deny that you felt something twist in your gut at the sight of him, but you were focused on his answer to your question.

“Woo and I talked before the match about that. He says that if I get my ass kicked around a bit at the beginning, people are more likely to bet against me in higher amounts, especially if they haven’t seen me fight before.” He huffed out, eyes closed to give them a rest from the ceiling lights. You nodded and tried to look anywhere besides his bobbing Adam's apple. 

“I guess it makes sense. But…I’m just…worried I guess. With how much you let the other guy rough you up. I’ve seen you in some pretty harsh shape but this, San? This is brutal.” You waved your hand in front of his body as if he could see.

“Ah, it’s not the worst. You remember when I got my ribs broken?”

“That was because you were still trying to figure out how to properly do your crescent kick and fell flat on your side, dumbass. Not the same thing as letting someone else beat you black and blue.” He quirked up an eyebrow at that and shrugged his head a bit. You went quiet, a question on the tip of your tongue but you struggled with how to word it. You looked back down at your fingers again, picking again at your nails. 

You didn’t realize how San opened his eyes and raised his head at your sudden silence, watching as you let your nervous habit take over. He leaned over to grab at your hands to keep you from picking at them anymore, and you looked up to once again see his concerned eyes.

“What’s on your mind?”

It never failed that you would be amazed at how well he knew you.

“When or maybe why did you decide to quit letting him hit you if you and Woo knew that you were making money?” Your eyebrows furrowed together as the question finally left out. His hands loosened up around yours and his eyes widened a bit at the question, face slightly flushing. “There was a moment when I saw you and you changed entirely. Why? Did Woo say something?”

He pursed his lips and looked down at where your hands were still connected, his brain jostling around with how to answer you. Eventually, he nodded, jaw clenching and unclenching, and he raised his head to face you.

“I guess it’s best if I just tell you now,” he huffed, making you even more confused. “When I’m in the ring, I have to calculate everything, have to constantly watch for everything that the other guy is doing. And there are moments when it feels…pointless. Like it’s all for nothing. Like I should just give up and let them lay me out, you know?”

You took in everything he was saying, trying to process his words and the emotions that came with them.

“Wooyoung wanted me to throw the match more so he could collect more bets. But…when I looked out and I saw you…I needed to make you proud.” He was ultra hesitant with his words, cautiously scanning your face to gauge out your reactions. It was funny how this man, someone who’s been said to have a cold heart in the ring and iron fists you would never want to meet, is instantly turned into a nervous mess when it came to you. Your heart was beating in your throat now, watching him back with wide eyes trying to understand what he was exactly saying.

“God, it’s just–...I don’t–...fuck, I guess it’s just–...” He keeps cutting himself off, the words he wished to say not forming right in his mouth. Sensing his frustration, you rubbed your thumb over the bruised knuckles, a soothing tactic you knew helped him. And it did, as you saw his face relax from the way it was scrunched up.

“It’s okay Sannie, take your time.” You spoke as gently as possible, not wanting him to feel rushed at getting the right words, or even feel pressured to say them at all. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose, before opening them back to level with you.

“When I’m in the ring, and all these thoughts get to my head, all I can think about is you. Only you. How you encourage me to keep going, your smile and your voice telling me to finish the match. All I can think about is how your eyes light up when I finally win.” 

You felt completely frozen at his confession, thumbs having stopped their movements since. It felt as if your brain had been slowed in its comprehension skills, and you had to repeat every word he said in your head five times over for it to truly sink in.

“So…you–”

“I like you,” he blurted out, face and neck turning pink. “A lot. More than as your best friend. I like every little detail about you and it just drives me insane not being able to tell you, so I am now. And if you don’t feel the same, well then we can just sort of forget this whole–”

“I like you too, Sannie. More than as a best friend as well.” You interrupted his rant, hands moving from his to grab his face, making sure he hears you. “I’ve been so confused for so long about these emotions I’ve had for you, but I think I’m starting to realize that they haven’t been platonic for a while.” You could feel your ears heating up at your admission, and this feeling of anxiety in your chest relaxed as you were able to tell him your feelings confidently.

And as he smiled at you, eyes twinkling and full of pure love for you, you start to wonder how anyone could see this man as a fighter with a cold heart. In the end, he would always be your Sannie.

---

This was written by @/ro-written and is not to be plagiarized, translated, or distributed anywhere else. Copyright Ro-Written 2023.

All comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome!

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #choi san #choi san x reader #choi san fluff #choi san ateez #choi san fic #san ateez #san x reader #*ro written #san fluff #san fic #san fanfic #choi san fanfic

[geekywritings]

“You took everything from me”

Trying my best at a request from @christinaatyourservice92​

I changed it a little and hope it’s still fine!

Reader and Cal are together, but when Cal fails to return after a mission, reader’s world breaks down. And she is willing to go to the extreme.

No worries, there will be fluff!

_________________

For years, all had seemed lost. You had managed to escape the massacre on Dathomir thanks to one of your sisters, but she had died shortly after you had landed on a planet you had never heard of before.

You were a child, alone, scared and orphaned. You had no clue how to survive outside the sisterhood, but you had to learn. To honor their sacrifice and to take revenge one day. You started as a thief, using the magick talents you had been taught for as long as you could remember. And while your control wasn’t perfect, it grew every day. Soon, you could steal from the shadows, items floating into your hands with ease before you disappeared in a flash of green.

Eventually, you had earned quite the reputation on the planet and decided it was safer to leave. Especially when the Imperial presence began to intensify. To your horror, it was the same on every other planet you went to. People being oppressed, abused or even slaughtered. What had happened to Dathomir was happening everywhere else in a way. It made you want to do something about it.

That’s how you ended up crossing paths with the rebellion and ultimately with the Mantis Crew. To your delight, you discovered one of your fellow sisters alive as well! Merrin helped you settle into life in the group and soon, they were your family. But one member had stood out from the start: Cal Kestis. A survivor like you, a victim of the Empire’s endless thirst for blood. And soon, your strongest driving force and brightest hope for a better future.

You admired his fighting spirit, while still showing kindess and mercy where appropriate. He was soft and gentle, but also determined and firm. He was balanced, you realized one day and it helped you find your center as well. The desire for revenge would never extinguish, but thanks to Cal, you learned to channel it into doing good.

For years, you fought side by side, dealing the Empire damage in various ways, until your little group split up. Merrin wanted to see the galaxy, as you had done, to learn her own lessons. Cere had put her heart into a new mission and Greeze decided to settle down for a while. It left Cal and you to continue the fight alone…

During that time, you became more than allies. More than friends and even more than lovers. There was a spiritual connection that went beyond normal love, you thought. He was your everything, as you were his. Yet every moment together was overshadowed by the horrible chance of either of you being taken or killed by the Empire. At the same time, neither of you even considered abandoning the mission. It was all you knew at this point.

And then the day you had feared came. The two of you were doing a job for Saw Guerrera on Coruscant when Cal didn’t show up at the secret meeting point. You waited, thinking he might have been delayed, but hours passed and there was no sign of him. At that point you realized that something must have gone horribly wrong. No signal over the com link, the connection completely dead.

You focused on your magick, trying to feel his presence somewhere. It had worked in the past, but not this day. Panic rose in your throat, as you gripped your staff tightly. The wave of sorrow that followed a moment later was strong enough to bring you to your knees. You didn’t want to cry, hated doing so in any situation, but right then the tears would not be stopped.

You had lost Cal. The one person that had kept you moving forward. That had made you believe that things weren’t hopeless. You would never see his smile again. Feel the warmth of his embrace. Hear him moan your name during long cold nights. He would never again hold your hand when you felt lost.

The feeling of utter loss was threatening to overwhelm and cripple you, but you couldn’t allow it to. Instead, you channelled it all into anger and determination. They would pay for it.

Your eyes fell onto the senate building. Cal’s part of the mission had been to retrieve some information from there. You didn’t care about the weaponry details. You would turn the entire place into ashes. You had the power to level the entire structure, you knew it. Felt it in every fibre of your being.

Using your special powers, you went in mostly undetected. You did re-appear here and there to take down guards and destroy security measures, as well as protected doors. A trail of death and destruction behind you, you finally made it to the Sentor, sitting at his desk, staring at Cal’s lightsaber on his table.

Your appearance in his office had obviously surprised him, as he jumped up with a gasp.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“To kill you.”, you replied, green light forming around your hands, spreading like toxic clouds. “You took everything from me. Everything. So I will take everything from you.”

“I don’t even know who you are!”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care who you are either.”

The ground began to shake as you called more and more from your power from deep inside.

“You are going to get yourself killed as well!”, the man yelled.

“And you think I care?” You didn’t at this point. You would bring this entire place down and if you died in the process, so be it.

“I care, though.”

The voice had you freezing instantly. No, it couldn’t be!

Slowly you turned, coming face to face with Cal. He was holding his injured arm and a trickle of blood was making it’s way down his face from his temple, but he was alive! Breathing! Real! And he was there!

“Sorry, love, I got held up a little.”, he apologized, as you tried to blink away tears of relief.

The green glow began to vanish, as you felt the anger seep away. This was no time for a proper reunion however, as suddenly the Senator reached for a gun, aiming it at you. Cal was quick to act however, calling his lightsaber into his hand and easily moving in front of you to deflect the laser right back at the Senator. The politician’s reflexes weren’t so good and so he had no means of escaping the deadly shot he had fired.

“What happened to you?”, you asked, managing nothing more than a whisper. Cal meanwhile moved to the Senator’s desk, asking BD to download all important files.

“You know, the usual. Imperials, Inquisitors and such. I hate to admit it, but a detonator managed to knock me out for a while…” He was trying to be non-chalant about it, but you could hear the fatigue in his voice. He was gritting his teeth, forcing his body to keep working to finish the mission.

BD-1 beeped, signalling that he had all the data and the Jedi turned to you. “Can you get us back to the ship?” Instantly you nodded and moved to reach for his hand before the three of you were enveloped by the green light.

A while later, you were back on the ship, tending to Cal’s wounds.

“Would you have really brought the entire building down?”, he asked after a long stretch of silence.

“Yes.”, you replied without hesitation, tying the knot on the bandages around his left arm.

His right hand went to reach for yours and you looked up at him, trying to discern his expression. There was an ocean of emotions in those green eyes. Fear, relief, love, determination and maybe even a speck of anger.

“I am glad you didn’t.”, he said. “Don’t ever do anything stupid like that. Not because of me.”

“I can’t give a promise like that.”, you admitted. “When I thought you were dead… Nothing else made sense anymore. Nothing else mattered.”

His hand had moved from yours to your cheek, stroking the markings on your skin with so much gentleness. “I want you to live, Y/N. For me.”

“I will live with you Cal. That I can promise.”

Realizing there was no arguing with you on that one, Cal just leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You are impossible.”, he exhaled with a sigh.

“So are you.”

A ghost of a chuckle escaped him, as he closed his eyes. “We do this together Cal. Till the end.”, you added.

“Together. Till the end.”, he repeated and suddenly his lips were on yours. Soft, slow, full of devotion. You would do this with him or not at all. But for now, you were just grateful that he was still there, holding you, kissing you. Your story was not finished yet.

#cal kestis x you #cal kestis #cal kestis x yn #cal kestis x reader #jedi survivor

[kiana-kaslana-423]

Idk if Helix means the Previous Era Vill-V or the personality, but Vill-V has no right to live in my head rent free rn so if you are willing to be the outlet; then Helix/Vill-V with a childhood friend to lover that adapts/gets along with the other versions of her just as well as the original.

She's the assistant of the Great Magician, the one that makes sure that Expert takes care of herself, the Co-Conductor and even Pure Evil's accomplice, although the reader just calls them Pride rather than Pure Evil bc thats what she is, basically a lot of titles for each versions of Vill-V. But the most important being the Helix's lover. Although technically the lover of all of them but the original was the first so-

Vill v's Personalities x Childhood bff! Reader

☆ Female Reader that's is the childhood best friend of

Helix and the lovers of Helix's personalities ☆

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽

By Helix, I mean the original vill v! But I'm not opposed to

doing the personalities, I have done a lot of research!! :]

BTW you are now my new favorite Anon

pls come back anytime you want

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽

!! Not comfy with men will block on interaction !!!

• Helix was a shy and introverted girl, who barely had friends at school or really anywhere so it was a surprise when one day at recess when she was sitting on the bench when a another little girl runs up to her, You were so positive and energetic, you came all the way over here from your playing spot to come ask her to play? She feels worried because what if she can't play exactly how you want her too but somehow you could already see the look on her face so then you suggest you guys don't have to play! Talking is enough!

• So you guys sat there through recess just talking about whatever came to your mind, she was shy at first but she eventually started to come out of her shell and this is where a big friendship blooms!

• Even after many years you guys are still friends, Well not exactly friends anymore but lovers! She felt like herself when she was with you and felt more positive than ever but than she got the opportunity to take a MANTIS surgery, the thing is she didn't tell you about this and just said she was going somewhere for a little bit- She didn't want to make you worried since only a little percentage of people can survive this surgery so she didn't want to have you thinking for days if she was going to live or not

• But the surgery was a success! And Helix quickly discovered that she could split off her personality and basically make other hers, and for a little bit she forgot about you. She was so caught up in her new ability that she forgot about you for a couple of months, maybe years? Who knows at this point....

• After a while of digging, you did eventually find where she was, you instantly went to the location and then that's you saw the new Helix, who is not named Helix anymore but Vill v

• Helix instantly recognized you and took control of the body which she hasn't done in months/years, she was so scared to let you see who or what she has become.. But you instantly accepted her and her new personalities with open arms!? She's pretty sure you didn't even think about it,,

• You were just so excited to see the others! You were determined to love them just like you love her and Helix just hearing you say that, she could swear she just fell even more in love with you-

• The Conductor was the first one you got to meet! And was the first part of Helix's personality that was split off, Helix wasn't that good at splitting off parts of her personality yet since it was her first time so the Conductor came out exactly like Helix but just more confident! So getting along with her is extremely easy, she was able to quickly bond with you

• The Great Magician instantly came out next,, honestly more like she kicked everyone out of her way so she could meet you second- But she just itching to meet you! You look like a fun playmate! Someone that could go with her outgoing, loud, curious and mischievous personality!! And you did fill her expectations quite well!

• The Expert came out next to apologize for the way Magician acted since Magician was practically all over you, She had a normal conversation with you since she's kind of cold and she's stoic so it was kind of hard to get to know her but for some reason with your lovely smile, you were able to quickly get down her walls and to have a more in deep conversation with her before she had to go

• Flavorful came out right after Expert, even though she's rather shy and reserved + she doesn't know how to interact with people- She still wanted to come out and talk to you since she could feel it in her heart that you are one of a kind and she just needs to get to know you! She's shy like Helix so you were able to quickly get her used to you since you already did it to Helix! Flavorful was very happy to talk to you since you were so nice to her and everything, she promised to cook you something when she gets the chance too!

• The next one that came out was kind of interesting because of her name- Vill v that looks down upon the Stars but she just let you call her Occultist, it was kind of hard to have a conversation with her but kind of delightful? Occultist is mysterious and talks slowly so it makes having a conversation with her interesting! She's also wise and very observant so she could just tell what your personality was from just looking at you, Occultist found you pure, something that needs to be protected and that's what she swears herself to do before she has to go away for another personality to interact with you

• it kind of took a while for the next one to come out though— it probably took like 10 minutes to be able to talk to her? Her name is Kevin Killer Mk5 but you can just call her Mk, it was harder to talk to her than Flavorful since she was just kind of a scared kitten- She looked like she wanted to run off any second because of how quiet she was and how bad at communicating she is, it's probably going to take more than one interaction to get her out of her shell because of how reclusive she is but it's not anything you can't handle!

• After that, the Conductor tried to say that's all, the only one you couldn't meet was named Lecturer since she died a little while ago but the Conductors plan to try to hide the last personality failed terribly since she instantly came out when she heard the Conductor say that there was none left to meet

• Her name was Pure Evil. She was expecting for you to be instantly scared when you saw her but you just kind of talked with her? You just talked with her like she was a normal human being and she was hella confused— She tried to say insults and mean stuff at you but you just kind of pushed it aside and kept talking to her, you treated her like she was actually someone.. just from this she instantly went back into headspace—

• Helix then came back out to explain everything and so you guys can catch up a little more!

• Over the next couple of weeks, you started to hang out with the personalities more! Getting to know them and how to bond with them!

• The Conductor was probably the easiest to bond with! Like I said she's almost exactly like Helix so it's pretty easy to get to know her out of everyone else ( - Helix ), she's also willing to help you get to know the more shy personalities if you want!

• Magician was another personality to easily keep up with, like all you need to do is just be hyper since that's what she is almost all of the time! The primary way to bond with her is if you help her with magic tricks that involve a second person! Because everyone else doesn't trust her enough to help her with her magic tricks so if you do, you instantly become better than almost everyone else-

• Expert is a little bit more harder to bond with but not that difficult since you were already able to break down her cold walls when you guys met, normally you're bonding time consists of just watching her create things and then once in a while talk about the thing she's creating or something else!

• Flavorful is more easy than Expert but harder than Magician mostly just because she's shy but that can be instantly thrown away once she's cooking! Cooking is the thing she's best at so she's a little bit confident, her cooking makes it easier to talk to her! So like Expert but just with cooking

• Occultist is another hard one to get to know because of how mysterious she can be, but if you want she can tell you stories! She knows a lot of them whether they are fairy tales or something else, bonding with her just normally consist of her just listening to you or the other way around, maybe just sitting quietly together as you to do something!

• Mk is the second hardest to bond with and get to know better because of how shy she is and how bad she is at interacting with another person, so it's just normally going to be you talking- She might come out of her shell at some topics since she might know them or she finds interest in them! So your best bet is to talk about the topics she likes until she eventually comes out of her shell!

• Pure Evil is the hardest to know and bond with since she barely crosses paths with you and when she does she either goes into headspace or she makes a distraction to get away, there is times when you catch her off guard and she can't go anywhere so those are your moments when you get to talk to her! The way you get her to soft up is when you called her “Pride”, it made her go through multiple flashbacks where she was originally pride and overconfident not evil or anything else... She kind of softens up to you after that, you guys cross paths more after that too. She's also more talkative with you too, she feels like she's able to be.. herself, without any of the revenge or pain

• And after a while all of them eventually fall for you're cute charm, it's hard to resist you when the original already is dating you and has feelings for you!

• So they all kind of talk amongst themselves to see what the others feel and if they can all date you at once- it sounds a little bit confusing but they all love you and it sounds like torture for them to just let one have you and the others have to just watch

• So after they get everything sorted out they eventually confess to you! Magician wanted to make a whole surprise but Expert and Conductor said no- So they had to think of another plan and that plan was to let Helix talks to you about it, I mean you are Helix's lover so it would be for the best if you guys talk it out by yourself and none of the other personalities interrupt

• And after all that worrying and basically panicking from some of the other personalities, you accept! It was quite easy like you didn't even have to be convinced or anything, you just told Helix how you loved each and all of them the same! All of them have a special place in your heart and you wouldn't give them up for the world, you loved Helix before and you still love Helix now, all that changed is there's more to love now! Helix is basically crying when you finish- She couldn't believe the kind words that you were saying and how you still love her,, All the other personalities were probably crying in headspace too

• They were all very happy that they get to date you now! But it is going to be a little bit chaotic with all of them-

• The Conductor's love language is words of affirmation, she loves to compliment you and praise you for everything, she loves making you have a fuzzy feeling each time she compliments and praises you for something insignificant or big! Along with that the Conductor decided to give you a nickname cuz she heard Magician gave you so she wanted to give you one! It's “the Co-Conductor”! She found it cute and she sees you as someone she can trust and help her if she's having problems with the other personalities! Her favorite cuddle position is half spoon so she can see your face and so your head rest on her chest (that she's proud of)! She loves running her fingers through your hair and telling you about her plans for the future, the Conductor's favorite activity to do with you is planning! She just likes planning for anything- Like maybe planning for a trip or planning something for someone else! She also likes organizing and scrapbooking too! So she would have you help her with that if you want too!

• The Magician's love language is physical touch obviously- She loves to have her hands on you any moment that she can! She doesn't care if it's in a store or at a very important meeting, She really doesn't care about anything else but you- You are her Assistant so that makes you better than everything else and that's also your nickname that she gave you! “Assistant” since you help her with her magic tricks and with really anything that she wants! So you must get a proper title! But back on with affection, she loves the cuddle position embrace! She gets to hold you nice and tight, your body heat makes her feel more alive than anything else, kind of like a drug but who knows- As we know the magician loves for you to always be around her as she does something since your her Assistant, whenever she's out, she drags you to do whatever she's doing! She cannot just not have you as she does a magic trick or something, which that is most of her hobbies but she also likes decorating things like one of Expert's creations-

• The Expert love language is quality time since that's how she normally bonds with you, which also plays into her cuddle style since she rather just lay back to back cuz she's not really big on affection but she won't mind you giving her some at random times throughout the day, She also heard about almost all the other personalities giving you a nickname but she thought that was kind of cringe so she just didn't give you one and just calls you by your name- She loves you and all but she's not into that mushy gushy stuff, the only time she might get soft and act like that is when you care for her and make sure she's doing alright- it gets her blushing hard! So the way that she communicates this is she just pushs you into a chair and make you watch her work on a new invention-

• Flavorful's love language is gift giving since she normally cooks so it's just easier for her to give you some homemade goods! She hopes her cooking tastes better than that fast food you eat- But let's not mind that! Her favorite cuddle style is the chest rest since she likes to be able to hear your heartbeat and whether if you got big or small breasts she loves them- She also heard from the other is that they gave you nicknames so she tried to pick the best one even though she's bad at it- “Junior” She calls you that because you help her cook so you are her Junior chef! You just normally spend a lot of you guys bonding time just cooking or watching cooking shows! You guys can not watch Gordon Ramsay cuz she feels bad for the workers..

• Occultist's love language is quality time too since half the time she's the one listening to you or just spending time together and not talking like you guys are communicating silently or something idk, her favorite cuddle style is the sweetheart / the rom-com, she likes to hold your hand to make sure that you're there and even if you move an inch she will wake up- She is sensitive to the slightest of touches so most the time she just looks after you at night time, her nickname for you “Star” since you light up her galaxy and since it plays into her name. And like I said Occultist doesn't really do a lot so if you want to do something new, you will kind of just have to drag her or just let her watch- She does like reading so that could be something you guys can bond over!

• Mk's favorite love language is acts of service since she has no idea what to do- She's a girlfailure- She'll do stuff for you to show her appreciation and to show you that she thinks about you a lot! So because of how shy she is it's obvious that her favorite cuddle position is the little spoon, she likes to feel protected so if you don't mind, she'll like to be in your embrace! She also doesn't have a nickname for you too- She's too embarrassed to give you one since she doesn't want to look like a complete dumbass or something- She's really trying her best- But Mk will normally just go with whatever you are doing since she doesn't really do a lot, she just kind of hides in headspace so she doesn't have any hobbies

• Pure Evil's love languages is surprisingly physical touch! She hasn't had a loving touch in millennials so she's most likely addicted to it now that she has it, she normally always has her arm wrapped around your waist or holding your hand in a tight embrace! She takes on a more dominant role in your relationship so obviously she likes to be the big spoon too, along with that she calls you her “Accomplice” since she sees you as her partner in crime even though you wouldn't hurt anyone- She doesn't care, she would have you help make evil plans with her but those plans would go in the trash bin because you talk to her out of it and then the other half is she just follows you around the place to make sure you're okay- She's really overprotective of you

• Than the last and most important, Helix! Also surprisingly her love language is physical touch but she won't be the one giving it- She's too shy to even touch you without you starting it first, so from this her favorite cuddle position is just resting her head in your lap- it's a little bit weird but she likes it since she loves to feel your fingers running through her hair as you compliment her- The pure insecure baby needs it :[ . She also didn't give you a nickname because you gave yourself one! “Helix's Lover” and you can swear on God she started to cry instantly when she heard it- She just couldn't believe that you would really take pride in a title with her name in it! Even though she's not proud in herself a lot she's very proud of this title. She will just sit there with her head on your shoulder just smiling as you guys hang out since she's just really thinking about all the times she's been with you and how much you've done for her, even though you have seven new lovers now you will never forget the original and it makes her cry every time she remembers

• Now that you have 8 lovers, it can get kind of hectic because some of them don't like to share and it takes a while to even get a proper schedule down since some of them kept fighting about it- Even though it took a while there was a schedule now but some of them still kind of break it though-

• it's a hectic ride but you love all of them!

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