#this looks like that sides of my college buildings that have bricks falling down from a fifty foot drop

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 7: "So Close Yet So Far"]

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: 4.6k

a/n: Apparently the next installment flew out of me quicker than anticipated so here you go--hopefully it sufficiently frustrates you by the end! Feedback is always appreciated!

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

You stood there eyeing the brick building with your head tilted to the side, one of your fingers tapping along your coffee cup. A brow rose curiously onto your forehead as your focus lingered on the hardware store sign above you. Glancing over your shoulder, you shot Foggy and Matt a look.

The smile that had been on Foggy’s face vanished immediately. 

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“What? No, I didn’t say that!” you quickly answered.

Foggy’s attention shifted to Matt next to him, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “Dude, she doesn’t like it,” he told him.

Your eyes widened as you saw Matt’s face visibly fall next, his disappointment impossible to miss even with his dark glasses covering part of his face. 

It had also been exceptionally hard to ignore how attractive he looked today with how he was dressed–vastly different than he’d ever dressed in college. He was wearing a blue dress shirt and a navy tie with a pair of tight fitting slacks. You’d shamefully been unable to avoid looking at his ass while Foggy was guiding him ahead of you down the sidewalk, having to mentally remind yourself that you were with Liam now. You shouldn’t have been checking out your friend’s ass–but my God, you were certain it had somehow gotten larger and more muscular than you remembered it in college. You couldn’t exactly refrain from looking when it was right there.

“I did not say that!” you exclaimed.

“And here I thought you’d be a supportive friend,” Matt said, rounding on you next. “We take a leap of faith and open our own law firm and you don’t like our office?”

You waved a hand frantically at the brick building before the three of you. “It’s a hardware store!” you pointed out.

“No,” Foggy disagreed, shaking his head at you. “It’s next to the hardware store.”

Your eyes followed the sweeping movement of his hand as he gestured to the door beside the hardware store. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you bit back your next comment. The door was unmarked and looked like it was part of the business beside it.

“You don’t like it,” Foggy reiterated, staring at you.

“It’s just–it’s a bit confusing where your office actually is,” you admitted. 

“We’ll make a sign,” Foggy assured you. “Eventually. But why don’t you actually come in and see it?”

“Sure, I'd love to,” you said, waving your hand at the door. “Lead the way Nelson and Murdock.”

Foggy’s grin immediately returned as he grabbed Matt’s arm and led the pair of them to the door. You followed behind, stepping into the building and making your way down the long hallway past a few other offices as you went. Eventually Foggy came to a stop in front of a door with a piece of paper taped to the glass. In black marker it read ‘Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law’ and you couldn’t resist the smile that instantly spread over your mouth. They really had gone and rented an office and started a firm this morning.

Foggy took a moment to unlock the door before swinging it open. He turned towards you, a bright smile still plastered across his face.

“Ladies first,” Foggy said, gesturing you ahead.

With a grin and a shake of your head you made your way into their office space, your eyes taking in the barrenness of it. There was a single desk shoved to the far back wall of the main room beside a few abandoned filing cabinets. Two rooms that appeared to be offices were opposite of each other in the space, a conference room beside one of them. There had been a table that fit the space perfectly left behind in it. 

“So?” Foggy pressed, “What do you think?” 

“It certainly has everything you guys need,” you mused, taking a few steps into the space and looking around, eyeing the dust on the filing cabinets and the desk. “And it came moderately furnished, too. I’d say that’s a bonus.”

“Oh, we got bonus furniture?” Matt asked in amusement. “Foggy didn’t mention bonus furniture.”

Your eyes were drawn towards Matt at the sound of his voice. There was a boyish grin on his lips as he spoke and you felt the all too familiar ache in your chest at the sight of it. But you quickly tried to shove those thoughts away. You were with Liam now. And you had been for a few months. Matt was only your friend. Grudgingly you reminded yourself that he’d recently moved into his own place because he was still getting that much attention from beautiful women after college and had wanted more privacy. 

You needed to stop thinking about him like that.

“Is it in good shape, would you say?” he asked you.

Shrugging a shoulder, you eyed the desk before you. “I mean it’s not broken, so there’s that?” you answered.

Matt’s warm laugh appeared to echo through the room. You’d missed the sound of it. Ever since the three of you had graduated it had been hard to keep up with seeing each other. Usually you were lucky to see them once or twice a month lately, though you often spoke to them via text messages–or occasional phone calls from Matt. But those were fairly infrequent lately. You had figured this was what was bound to happen after you’d all graduated, you slowly drifting apart from them, but you’d hoped it would take longer than it had.

“Now you guys just need clients,” you said, turning around and facing the pair of them.

“Actually, we have one,” Matt told you.

Your eyebrows curiously rose onto your forehead at his words. They’d only just got this space today, how had they already acquired a client?

“I think she means one with money , Matt,” Foggy pointed out. “Because we don’t have one of those yet.”

“Ahh, well, we’ll get one of those eventually,” Matt assured him. 

As your eyes took in the space around you again, memories of the three of you during your days at Columbia slowly played back in your mind. All those nights you heard them discussing what they’d do after law school ran through your mind. How they’d occasionally joked about opening their own firm in Hell’s Kitchen–to help the less fortunate, Matt always said. To be his own boss and not have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn was Foggy’s dream–along with being rich.

And now here they were, already on their way to achieving that dream.

“I’m proud of you both,” you said, eyes shifting between the pair of them. “Nelson and Murdock. You made it happen. We’ll have to get together and celebrate this another night.”

Across the room, Foggy and Matt’s faces both simultaneously fell yet again. Instantly you felt guilty that you needed to leave, but you hadn’t had a chance to see Liam all week. You were planning to surprise him this evening with a night in.

“You’ve got to run already?” Foggy complained. “You just got here!”

“I’m sorry!” you said. “I told you I didn’t have long because I was heading over to Liam’s tonight.”

“Thought you’d have longer than a few minutes for your best friends,” Foggy complained.

Frowning, your attention shifted towards Matt. He’d become oddly quiet, his focus on the floor of the office. You noticed he’d been like this more and more lately and you wished he’d open up to you. Clearly something was going on with him, but you had no idea what. In the past, before graduation, he’d have told you. It hurt that things had changed so much that now he wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again, tone softer. “I’ll make it up to you guys another time, alright?”

“Fine,” Foggy reluctantly agreed, throwing his arms out towards you. “Now give me a hug before you go surprise your man. And he better be grateful for this visit because he’s stealing you away from us tonight. Again.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile slipping across your lips. Closing the distance between the pair of you, you quickly returned Fog’s hug. When you pulled away and looked over your shoulder, you saw the morose expression on Matt’s face, his head still bowed. You stepped over towards him, nervously holding out your arms.

“Care for a hug goodbye, Matty?” you asked.

His head darted up instantly, a smile quickly spreading across his face. The sight of it was bright in the dimly lit room and it had your stomach flipping.

“Of course,” he answered.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, his own arms coming to encircle your shoulders and drawing you into him. For a brief moment your eyelids lowered, your face buried into his broad shoulder. He smelled good–like fresh laundry. And he felt more solid than you remembered him being. Had he been working out? 

Your eyes opened, taking in the sight of Foggy staring back at you just over Matt’s shoulder. He had that look on his face again. That same sad look he had always given you once he’d found out you’d had feelings for Matt. He knew. He knew damn well you weren’t over Matt just because you’d been with Liam for a few months. 

Clearing your throat, you abruptly pulled away from Matt, holding your coffee cup nervously between both hands now. “I should get going, I’ll see you guys later,” you said quickly.

Without further hesitation, you made your way out of the office, hearing both of them calling goodbyes after you. As you made your way out of the building and towards Liam’s apartment, you tried your best to shove down everything you’d felt for Matt which that hug had suddenly tried to bring right to the surface.

Throwing back the beer bottle, you quickly swallowed down the alcohol. Tonight had turned out to be an exceptionally shitty evening. You’d gone to surprise Liam at his apartment because the pair of you had been so busy this past week that your schedules never seemed to align. You had every intention to stay in and order takeout with him, binging something on TV and having a relaxing night in.

But that’s not how the night had gone at all.

You’d showed up to Liam’s apartment and surprised him–that certainly happened. But you hadn’t expected the surprise you got in return in the form of a pretty, half-dressed brunette that he’d been trying to hide from you. He of course tried to apologize, to tell you it’s not what it looked like, but you knew it was all bullshit. So you’d yelled at him, tears streaming down your face as you ended the first relationship you’d had in years.

Then you’d headed into the first bar you’d spotted on your walk home, tears still staining your cheeks as you ordered three beers and proceeded to chug them one after the other. After you’d downed the third one, you’d ordered a fourth and contemplated calling Foggy. Hell, you’d almost called Matt. You certainly would have loved his comfort this evening. You would have loved to have him pull you into that firm chest of his, wrap those big, strong arms he had around you and hear him tell you that it would all be okay. That you deserved better. That it wasn't your fault.

That he wanted you.

But that was all a ridiculous fucking hope. He'd comfort you as a friend and nothing more, as he always did. And it would only tear you up even further to experience that right now. So instead you'd left your phone in your purse as you chugged down beer number four wondering what the hell was wrong with you that you couldn't keep Liam happy or even attract the attention of your best friend who slept with apparently every other woman in his vicinity but you. Still .

Bitter anger bubbled in your stomach, mixing with the three and a half beers you'd quickly thrown back. Grabbing the half-empty fourth bottle, you downed the rest of its contents in a few gulps. You slammed the empty bottle back on the bar counter, glaring at it as if it too had somehow hurt you tonight. 

"Fuck everything," you grumbled to yourself.

For another few minutes you sat there on the bar stool, contemplating if you wanted another drink or not. The thought was tempting, but you did still need to finish walking the last few blocks back to your apartment. Much more to drink and you wouldn't be able to do that. Especially not with how fast you'd already thrown those four beers down. Though the prospect of going back to your empty apartment already had the tears returning to your eyes. 

Blinking them back, you clumsily slid off the bar stool, grasping the counter to steady yourself. When you were sure you weren’t about to fall over, you turned and made your way to the bar's exit. The room around you spun a bit as you walked, but you kept on going, pushing your way out of the door and onto the sidewalk. The temperature had dropped outside and you could hear the faint roar of thunder in the distance. It felt as if the weather itself had even adjusted to your shift in mood–cold and raging.

Head ducked down, you made your way back towards your building. Your mind eventually shifted back to thoughts of earlier tonight as you walked. To Liam’s shock when he'd opened the door of his apartment and saw you standing there. You remembered how he'd been so flustered, his cheeks flushed as he seemingly didn’t want to let you inside. Then that brunette called out behind him just before she appeared over his shoulder, still trying to button up her blouse and entirely confused as to why you were in the hallway crying at his door.

Your stomach violently churned, sick threatening to spill out of you. You weren't sure if it was from the beers or the heartache, but you darted down a side alley and bent over, closing your eyes and hoping to make the feeling fade. Tears were steadily running down your cheeks as you tried to take a few deep breaths, begging yourself not to throw up in a back alley. 

The space around you soon felt like it was spinning, the sensation incredibly dizzying. You sunk to the pavement, a sob falling out of you as the nausea persisted. You pressed your forehead to the cold brick of the building in front of you, waiting until that wave of nausea eventually faded. But that hollow ache in your chest you'd felt for years now felt like it had abruptly grown tonight as if it was trying to swallow you entirely. 

Somewhere in your inebriated mind you were aware that you shouldn't be drunk and crying late at night in an alley in the city, that you should get up and go home, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You sat there on your knees, forehead pressed to the brick, and cried hard as all of your pain began to fall out of you in the form of tears.

Another crack of thunder rumbled through the night and you began to hear the patter of rain lightly hit the pavement before you felt a few drops hit you. A bitter laugh rolled out of you, the sound ending on a hiccup. You threw your head back over your shoulders, looking up at what you could see of the sliver of sky in the alleyway. 

"Of course it’d fucking rain," you mumbled. "Anything else to make this night fucking worse, right?"

"Are you alright?"

Heart speeding in your chest, your head whipped in the direction the voice had come from. Your vision continued to spin for a few seconds more at the movement before you could see who'd spoken. You spotted a dark figure at the far end of the alley. The fear you were feeling only increased as your brain gradually recognized that it was the man in black standing a few feet away, his masked face focused on you. 

Because of course tonight could get worse. 

You tried to back up, to get away, but your balance was off from the alcohol and you’d only managed to fall backwards onto your ass. The man immediately raised his hands, staying right where he was.

“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quickly.

You’d drank too much and were currently far too fearful to even begin to understand why his deep, gravelly voice sounded like it was laced with something like hurt when he’d spoken. 

“Then what d’you want?” you slurred out, trying to keep your voice even as rain began to dampen your hair.

“I heard you crying,” he called out, his tone somehow softer. “I–I wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?”

Fresh tears pooled in your eyes, another humorless laugh falling out of you. “Not in any way you’d care about,” you muttered.

The man in black took a tentative step towards you, his hands still raised in front of himself like he meant no harm. You tensed, eyes fixed on him.

“Try me,” he replied.

Your eyes narrowed as he took another careful step towards you. When you didn't react, he gradually began to close the space between you, moving slow in that form-fitting black suit you’d seen on the news and in the papers more and more recently. You were wary of him despite the reports saying he only brutally beat criminals, but he continued to move as if he was trying not to scare you away. As if he meant no harm. Part of your brain screamed danger the closer he came, but the alcohol you’d drank down was quickly quieting that warning. Because you weren’t alone right now and for some reason this vigilante’s presence was gradually easing the sting of loneliness you knew awaited you at your apartment. And for now, you were okay with that.

“No one tried to mug me,” you told him bitterly. “Or–or assault me or something. Nothing you’d probably be concerned about.”

“I’m glad to hear that at least,” he replied.

As he slowly came to crouch down in front of you, you saw the tension ease out of his shoulders at your words. You figured he must’ve been worried he’d stumbled on the aftermath of something along those lines, probably hoping to go chase down your assailant and pummel him before leaving him for the police. Unfortunately for him, nothing Liam did was truly worth the man in black's attention.

“What happened?” he asked, voice still pitched oddly low.

Drawing your legs up towards your chest, your focus dropped down towards your knees. “Found out my boyf–” you caught yourself, teeth gritting together before you changed your words, “–ex-boyfriend was cheating on me. Went over to surprise him tonight. Hadn’t seen him in a week. But he wasn’t alone.” 

You wrapped your arms around your legs, lowering your forehead to your knees as your eyes closed. The man beside you was quiet for such a long time that you’d thought maybe he’d left until you heard him speak again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice sounding like it broke on the words.

You shrugged. “Told you ‘s’not something you’d care about,” you muttered. “Just a stupid break up.”

“I care that you’re alone, inebriated, and crying in an alley late at night,” he countered.

“You don’t know me,” you pointed out. “Why would you care?”

“Because it’s–it’s not safe,” he said, voice tense. “And I…care that you’re upset.”

You scoffed in response, shaking your head along your knees. “You don’t know me,” you reiterated sharply.

“I still care,” he stated.

Turning your head, you rested your cheek along your knees. The man in black was sitting beside you, his own legs drawn up to his chest, his muscular arms wrapped around them. Something about him seemed safe even though nothing about him should have felt like that.

“That’s not even the worst part,” you said, the alcohol causing the words to just fall out of you. “The cheating and the break up. ‘S’not even the worst part of why I’m upset.”

This man was a stranger, what did it matter what you told him? He wouldn’t give a shit. Hell, he probably wished you’d stop talking.

His head tilted to the side at your confession, though. Something about the movement felt oddly familiar but the thought quickly left your mind almost as soon as you’d had it.

“What is then?” he asked.

The tears came on their own now, freely falling down your face. Matt’s handsome face from earlier came to your mind. You remembered that smile on his mouth when you’d gone to hug him goodbye earlier. You could still recall the scent of him–always some sort of detergent. He rarely ever used cologne or anything else. He’d told you he was sensitive to scents and they often gave him a headache. He’d told you many things over the years, and somehow even the smallest details had you falling even harder for him.

That hollow ache was throbbing in your chest again. It physically hurt when you thought about how badly you wanted him.

“I’m still in love with my best friend,” you admitted weakly. “And I shouldn’t be.”

You buried your face back into your knees, unable to control the sobs that began to shake your body as you cried. It had hurt you to see Liam with that other woman tonight, there was no denying it, but it hurt you even more to know that all you wanted still was Matt. That you could never seem to let those feelings go. Even in a relationship. Even grieving the end of one. 

You just wanted Matt.

“I just wish I could make it stop,” you choked out. “But nothing makes it go away.”

It took you by surprise when you felt a tentative hand come to rest on your upper back. You sniffled loudly, drawing your head from your knees to look at the vigilante beside you as a few drops of rain continued to lightly fall on the pair of you. Between the mask and the darkness of the alley, you couldn’t see much of his face, but you could see his mouth was twisted in a way that looked pained.

“I know how that feels all too well,” he confessed, his own voice thick with emotion.

Brows drawing together on your forehead, you stared at him in surprise for a moment. You hadn’t expected him to say that. But as it dawned on you that you weren't alone experiencing this type of painful situation, you gradually sent him a sad smile in return.

“What’re they like?” you asked. “The friend you’re in love with.”

You watched as his mouth twitched at the corner a few times, like he was torn between smiling at the thought of whoever it was, but also still struggling with the weight of the pain of those unrequited feelings. 

“She’s beautiful,” he breathed out, emotion heavy in his voice. “Never met anyone like her before. The biggest heart. Sharp mind. And a–” he paused to chuckle, “–a surprising sense of humor. There’s just something about her that I’m drawn to over and over. I can’t seem to stop it either.”

You turned further towards this stranger, his gloved hand still resting comfortingly on your back. You curiously eyed his masked face in silence for a moment.

“Why don’t you tell her you love her?” you finally asked.

The smile that spread on his lips in response looked sad. 

“I feel like I have in many ways without ever saying it,” he replied, shaking his head. “She doesn’t see it. But I’m certain she’s in love with someone else. She’ll…never want me.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, your heart breaking for this stranger. “I’m sorry.”

His lips were visibly trembling now, the sight stirring something in you. He must really love this friend of his to be so emotional spilling his heart out to a strange, drunk woman crying in an alley. 

“Why don’t you tell your friend?” he asked.

His voice sounded a bit off when he’d spoken, almost like he’d been about to cry. You figured it was his own emotions trying to get the best of him as you shrugged.

“I can’t,” you answered. “We’re friends. And that’s all he ever seems to see me as. I’m not the one he wants. I’m never the one he wants.”

Tears began to fall down your cheeks again, your attention dropping back down towards your knees. The masked man surprisingly drew you towards him, his hand on your back pulling you straight to his chest. You didn’t even fight him when he did. You’d weirdly bonded with him in an alley this evening over the unreturned feelings of love for your friends. Now you were hugging the man in black, crying into his shoulder. His hands were soothingly running along your back in a way that felt oddly intimate for a stranger, but as your fingers dug into the thin material of his black shirt, rain still lightly falling down around the pair of you, you found that you didn’t care. It felt nice being in his arms and you weren’t about to question it after the night you’d had. 

You’d stayed like that for a while, uncertain how long it had actually been, until you’d eventually stopped crying. But when you’d suddenly become overcome with the urge to kiss him–a stupid , drunk thought that crossed your mind–you pulled away just as fast as he seemed to. 

“I should get home,” you mumbled, feeling oddly uncomfortable about that thought you’d just had.

“Of course,” he said, pitching his voice low again.

He rose to his feet in a fluid, smooth motion. It looked so graceful that you’d sat there stunned for a moment. His hands lowered down towards you, hovering just before your face. For a moment your eyes dropped down and lingered on the black gloves. Cautiously you placed a hand in each of his and let him pull you up to your feet. One of his hands released yours, quickly coming to rest against your shoulder, steadying you when you swayed until you’d regained your balance.

“Thanks for…whatever this was,” you said, your eyes trying to find his behind that dark fabric.

His mouth pulled up in a small smile in response, his head briefly nodding. “I hope tomorrow is a better day for you,” he said. 

Turning slowly, you began to make your way out of the alley and back towards the street. You wiped the back of your hand across your eyes as you walked, pausing only when you reached the sidewalk. Looking back into the darkened alley, you felt your heart sink when you saw it was empty. Movement on the building above you caught your eye and you looked up. 

The man in black was crouched on the edge of the roof, his masked face focused on you. He raised a single, gloved hand in a wave. Slowly you lifted one of your own, returning the gesture and finding the entire interaction with him to be incredibly strange. 

As you turned and made your way back home, the rain steadily beginning to pick up, your thoughts inevitably returned to how you were once again single and still pining for your best friend. Forever hopelessly in love with a man who would never return your feelings.

At least the alcohol you'd drank tonight would help you forget some of what happened this evening. For that you were grateful.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock

[fre4kshqw]

Not All Stories Have A Happy Ending-FINAL

Jay seemed much brighter this morning, almost like yesterday's incident never happened. His new found relationship with his best friend was the topic in Jay's mind. Tim on the other hand was more observant now, he started to notice Jay's more sickly pale skin and deeper eyebags, the skin around his nose looked irritated from constant blowing, "hm," Tim thought to himself "he hasn't been sick recently.." Tim could only come up with the conclusion that he's having nosebleeds which worries him more.

Jay smiled and gently held Tim's hand and walked out the musty motel with him, Tim was smoking a cigarette with his spare hand "I have somewhere to bring you today." Tim said as he opened the passenger door of his car for Jay, Jay seemed a little confused until a smile appeared on his face "really? like a date?" Tim slowly nodded in response "yeah…you could stay that."

As the two drove in the car Tim's head was flooded with all different kinds of thoughts "If Jay is capable of killing a bird because it was staring at him, imagine what he'd do to a person.." he thought to himself, glancing over at Jay who was pointing his camera out the window and observing, Tim quickly brought his eyes back to the road and continued driving.

"Jay," Tim said softly, his voice completely calm. almost robotic, "you know I love you right?" Jay took a few seconds to respond, Tim telling him he loved him so soon was a bit quick for Jay. Yet, it felt right. "Yeah.." he mumbled, looking over at him.

"Just, remember I'd do anything to keep you safe." Tim mumbled, Jay felt an uneasy feeling in his stomach. It wasn't like Tim to say such things, he tried to manipulate himself into thinking Tim has revealed this new side to himself that Tim hasn't seen yet. Maybe a soft protective side, though Jay knew who the real Tim was. Yet He still loved him dearly

Jay tried not to be too uneasy about Tim's words and just smiled at him "who knew you could be so cringy." Jay said while grinning, Tim smiled and sighed "yeah.." He mumbled. The two men sat in silence after that, the two having uneasy feelings in their stomach's for different reasons. The car eventually came to a stop outside an old college building.

The building was tall, three storeys high. Moss creeped up the red brick walls, covering some of the shattered windows. Fungi growing at the foundation, the place looked familiar. Jay thought he'd seen something like this before but his memory was so bad lately there was no hope trying to guess. "Wow Tim such a cute date spot" he said sarcastically, Tim looked over at him while trying to light a cigarette "what can I say, I'm a gentleman."

The two walked in together, doing their usual investigation. Time seemed to stop for Tim when Jay walked away to look at something, he knew this was the best time to do it. If he didn't do it now he'd only get worse, he crouched down and took a loaded pistol from his boot. His hand was unable to steady, he could barely aim in a straight line, Tim tried to remember the words Brian told him about animals back in college "if you shoot it right in the back of the head….it'll put it out of it's misery without it suffering." he told himself, he had to hold the gun with both hands, he had to give Alex credit for being able to hold it so steadily. "Jay…I just wanted to say, I really do love you, and I can't wait to live my life with you when this is all over.." Jay smiled, he was faced away from Tim still "That's n-.." Jay's sentence was cut off by a loud bang and his body going limp, falling onto the floor and bleeding out from the head. He was dead. Tim stood there in shock, he dropped the gun and looked at his lover's corpse. Tim had planned to do this, when he killed that bluejay he knew Jay would only start to get more and more violent like Alex.

Tim stumbled over to the new corpse and fell to his knees beside him. He confessed his love to Jay so he'd at least have his last few moments in happiness, Tim knew it would never last anyway. Tim felt the back of his head and let the crimson blood stain his hand, even though it was planned it still hurt. It fucking hurt bad. After what felt like hours he finally stood up, took Jay's camera and left. Leaving the new corpse to rot, alone.

Tim sat in his car for a while and just stared at the camera that now had a broken lens because of it falling at Jay's death. Tim had tears running down his face, Tim never cried but Jay was different to him. He kept the camera close the whole drive home. At least Jay died knowing Tim would never hurt him.

#marble hornets #jay marble hornets #jam marble hornets #jam mh #tim wright marble hornets #short story #sad ending

[hydrochloric-hugs]

Chapter 1

Old blog got reported and I really wanted my icon and background, so here's a repost of the first draft! I plan to edit bc I was out of my head trying to write flying by the seat of my pants, but for now, this is a bit more put together at least!

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: food, meal skipping mention, g/t. Additionally, while not shown in this chapter, this story will probably have non-sexual vore down the line.

“Shit!” Devon ripped his hand away from his unfinished project, attempted to shake the remnants of hot glue from his finger tip.  The deep tan skin of his brow wrinkled in a wince, and he set the glue gun on a scrap of cardboard.

“Try to be nice to mice, and this is what it gets me,” He huffed, glowering at the minor burn he sustained.  Something has been eating holes in his cereal boxes and pillow cases, and as a sophomore in college, he had to pinch every penny he could.  Sure, for now it was barely a contamination concern, but he couldn't afford to call in sick to his job or buy new bed clothes if he let the infestation grow.

That being said, he was a biology major with a minor in keeping sane (read: art).  Hence the contraption he had burned himself creating: a humane mousetrap.  It consisted of a bucket, a ladder, a dowel rod, and some ingenuity.  A large hole was cut in the middle of the bucket lid and a hot glue hinge attached the perimeter of the lid to the loose piece.  Food is put in the middle, mouse goes for the food, falls into the bucket, problem solved.  In theory, at least.  He honestly should have looked up some sort of tutorial rather than building it off the dome.  But Devon was nothing if not determined, even to his detriment.

“Whatever, it should be fine.” He put a bit of pressure on one side of the seesaw-like part of the lid and sighed in relief when it quickly gave way.  He contemplated adding a sort of hide and using extra materials to secure one side, but after checking his watch, bulked.  He knew rodents weren't brainless, but he didn't want to delay the set up of the trap for much longer.  He'd already lost his appetite for his honey-nut cheerios after finding a hole in the box, he'd have to start skipping breakfast if he didn't avert the contamination of his precious corn flakes, too.

He stood on creaky legs, sighed.  He had class in the morning, and he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.  He shuffled into the bathroom, mindlessly going through his nighttime routine until he threw himself under the dark red sheets of his bed.  Rolling onto his side, he took deep, steady breaths, let the anxieties of the day flow out with each exhale, until one final thought left his weary mind.  Tomorrow, I'm catching that dang rat.

-

Sunlight squeezed through a small crack in the mortar between brown-beige bricks and right into the eyes of a man sleeping in a matchbox full of cloth.  He snorted awake, rubbing his eyes and staring blearily at his surroundings.  Small ornaments, earrings, stamps, and dulled glass adorned the “walls” of his “room,” which was a section of inner wall he'd hollowed most of the insulation out of.  Yawning, the man pushed himself up out of the box, shielding his brown eyes with a pale hand.  He scooted to the edge, threw his legs over, and stood, a patterned rug shielding his feet from the cool concrete.  He grabbed a comb made from straw and ran it gingerly through his short black side part, only glancing in the mirror piece mounted next to his bed.  

“Beck,” He started at the shout, “you're gonna be late to the meet up and miss out on your trades!”

The man, Beck, let his shoulders sag. “Coming, Tallulah.”

He shuffled over to a drawer made of some sturdy fabric and picked out a fast outfit: a burgundy robe.  A bit informal, but he was up later than usual.  Plus, it's not like he would have to impress anyone.  Beck had been living in the community for two whole years at this point.  He could rock casual for one meeting.  He slid on some sandals made mostly of cardboard, grabbing his burlap bag from the floor.  Thank God he’d already packed it, otherwise he’d have to make the trip alone.  As it was, he pushed open the door, the back of a remote’s battery case, to Tallulah.

“You’re lucky I hate you the least.”

“I feel it.”

She was a stout woman – well, more so than Beck – with long silver hair that framed the delicate features of her face.  If one were so rude as to guess her age, they would be about a decade too low.  She aged like wine, as she often reminded those around her.  She wore a lengthy blue dress with flower print, perhaps literally from some drapes, with her own sandals with matching fabric going over top of the foot.  In her hands was a sort of bucket full of sweet smelling, small, white crystals.

“Sugar?” Beck seemed to look at it too long, as she flicked his forehead with a sigh. “Ow!”

“Don’t even think about it!”  She went off deeper into the building, exaggerated.

“Sheesh, you could have concussed me.” Beck rubbed his head with a smirk, latching his door shut before catching up.  The gray, tunneled halls were well trodden, even and flat like a road.  Because Beck was on the outskirts, it was less so until it intersected with another, more traveled path.

“Anything you’re especially looking for this week?” Beck asked, making room for some others passing them.

“You mean aside from ol’ Vernon’s face when everyone leaves his sweetener for mine?”  She adjusted her hold with a smug look. “I sure ain’t looking for what you drag in, Mr. Under the Fridge.”

“That was a year and a half ago!  How was I supposed to know why no one has ever brought ice to share?”  He fiddled with his bag strap. “Besides, it was still water!”

“Yeah, dirty water even the gardeners didn’t want to take!”  She stopped to cackle, careful to keep hold of the pot.  “I’ll tell you what, you may not be good for trades, but you are fun to watch!”

Beck rolled his eyes, still tugging the belt.

“Come on, you know I’m messing with you.”  She reached up and tousled his hair, perfectly restoring his bed head before he could duck away.

“Tally!”  He complained as he worked on mitigating the damage, but the dimples on his cheeks betrayed him. “I know, I just don’t remember the last time I really got congratulated beyond pity points.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Becky, you’ve done plenty.”  She said, then pointed her chin down the path. “The market’s just ahead, and you brought stuff, right?”  He nodded, not meeting her eye. “Exactly.  Even if you hadn't, and even if you never did and never will, you are a part of this community, Becky, and that makes you worthy.”  She squeezed his shoulder.  Then she punched it. “Now get set up fast because I ain’t setting this anywhere but a prime stall, pretty boy!”  She proceeded to run with surprising agility, leaving Beck in her trail.

The man sputtered, shook his head. “God help me if I ever do understand her, it means I’ve lost it, too.”  She may be right about him, but she was also right that he should get a move on lest he have to set up on the floor outside.

He entered a much deeper path, leading to the market site.  It was in the very center of the building, and it led to an immediate, metal opening.  Early birds sometimes had to open this mesh doorway themselves, but at this time, it was held open to welcome all.  He stepped through it alongside a few others, and entered a large metallic chamber with grated side walls and a ceiling, unlike the solid steel of the entrance wall and the one Beck was facing.  Before that wall, though, were dozens of people like him, but also in all different shapes and sizes. Most stood behind stalls with miscellaneous scraps and crafts, some sat behind their set ups, others just gave from their own hands as they passed.  Tallulah was already at a dark wood table making faces at salt and pepper man with his own container of white shards, making Beck’s smile widen.

After a bit of searching, he discovered an unclaimed counter.  He quickly made his way over, swinging his pack off onto the rickety birch planks. From the corner of his eye he saw others closing in, doubtless with their own goods to trade.  He can’t leave them empty handed!  He rummaged through his things before giving up and upturning it and letting everything spill straight onto the table. An abundance of soft white cloth, and another bag, this one sealed plastic, tumbled out.  As the visitors strolled closer, Beck ripped open the opaque plastic, revealing its contents: several beige ‘O’ shapes, smelling distinctly of processed oats and honey.

“Come take a look at what I’ve brought,” Beck called to passers by, “There’s plenty more where this came from!”

#giant/tiny #g/t #vore mention #hugging writing

[spilledbutter]

Summary: Jaskier sets out on the open road after a bad break-up, looking for purpose and hoping to find himself again. He doesn't intend to fall for a stunning cafe owner in a sleepy mountain town. Jaskier/Eskel | Rated: T | WC: 2k+ | CW: none, this is just fluff tbh

------

It was getting embarrassing, really.

There were only so many lattes and pastries he could order before it became very obvious he was dawdling.

Yes, today he had brought his notebook, so he didn’t look too conspicuous. He took a quick glance around the shop, noticing the many other patrons filling the tables. A woman was typing furiously on a laptop in the corner, a group of college students had their noses buried deep in their textbooks, and many others were settled around, chatting and sipping their drinks.

He took a deep breath, drumming his fingers on the table and humming an absent tune. He lifted the still-steaming cup of caffeinated deliciousness to his lips before casting a glance toward the front counter. The reason for his stalling stood there, all six-foot-three inches of decadent, mountainous man. As he watched, Eskel broke into a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners, as he conversed with the customer in front of him. Jaskier felt his heart give a particularly earnest thud and sighed.

Gods, get a grip, Jaskier, you desperate pillock.

It started a few weeks ago. Jaskier was a transplant to Ard Carraigh, having moved recently in search of a change of pace. After a bad break-up six months ago, he came to realize that somewhere along the way in the last few years, he’d lost his purpose. He sold the meager belongings in his apartment, taking only his instruments and a duffel bag full of necessities, and packed his car. He stopped long enough to say goodbye to his friends on his way out of town and that was it. The second he’d hit the road, he felt lighter than he had in years, despite not having a destination in mind.

Eventually, he wound up here, in Ard Carraigh. The town was smaller than Oxenfurt. It was a sleepy little village, nestled high in the mountains. The streets were lined with cobblestone and weathered-looking brick buildings that seemed like they’d been standing for centuries. There were chimneys billowing smoke into the overcast, gray sky and ambling sidewalks lined with ancient trees, although they were barren given the time of year. He felt like he’d wandered into some sort of storybook with how picturesque the whole thing was.

He’d stumbled into town and parked his car along what seemed to be the main thoroughfare, desperately in search of caffeine. It was nighttime then, and he’d been drawn to the warm light filtering out of the large windows of a cute little brownstone. The sign above it read The Wolves’ Den–a cafe of sorts, it seemed to be. Just what he needed.

He’d opened the door, the tinkling of a bell announcing his arrival, and walked up to the counter, a little delirious from driving all day.

“Please, please tell me you serve coffee here. I’d give you my firstborn child and my favorite guitar for some espresso right now.”

A deep, resonant chuckle met his almost-begging, causing Jaskier to look up and promptly freeze.

“We do, indeed, sell coffee. Among other beverages, but given this place turns into a bar after nine, I don’t think it’s the most appropriate for children.”

Melitele, help me, Jaskier thought. I am but a mortal man in the presence of a god.

The man standing before him was truly stunning. His skin was a golden, sun-kissed tan, eyes a beautiful hazel Jaskier could get lost in for hours. His chocolate brown locks were pulled back in a half-bun, a few strands falling loose to frame a chiseled jaw and the longest strands brushing sturdy shoulders. There were scars trailing his face on the right side from above his brow bone down past his jaw; Jaskier thought they only served to enhance his rugged beauty. As his eyes refocused, Jaskier noticed a slight smirk gracing the man’s full lips and an eyebrow raising in question. The expression suited him, pulling attractively at his scars and making him look like a dashing rogue. Jaskier wanted to climb the man like a tree.

A throat was politely cleared and Jaskier swallowed around his suddenly desert-dry tongue, snapping out of the haze he’d fallen into. He realized, belatedly, the man was still waiting for a response. And probably his order. Fuck.

“Well, it’s a good thing it’s just me then,” Jaskier chuckled, putting on his most charming grin and aiming for hapless-but-cute. It usually worked for him. “Large Americano with an extra shot, if you please…” He paused with intention, hoping the other man offered a name to match his gorgeous face.

The other man’s smirk softened into a friendly smile and he offered a hand over the counter.

“Eskel. I’m one of the owners of The Wolves’ Den, along with my brothers, Geralt and Lambert. You’ll likely meet them if you stick around long enough. Given I haven’t seen you around before, I’m guessing you’re new in town?”

Jaskier barely remembered to take the man’s–Eskel’s–hand, having a temporary internal crisis over beefy forearms and long, thick fingers.

“Ah, yes, you’d be correct. Jaskier, musician and temporary vagabond, at your service,” he said with a mock bow, earning another throaty chuckle for his troubles. “I’m hoping to be around for a while yet, the road is getting a bit tiresome of late. How much do I owe you, Eskel?”

Eskel was already shaking his head as he grabbed a clean mug from the rack beside the register.

“It’s on the house. Welcome to Ard Carraigh. Hope to see you again, Jaskier,” Eskel finished with a little wink and a crooked grin and Jaskier was absolutely done for, gods help him.

He murmured a hoarse thank you and bustled off to find a seat, settling in a worn, overstuffed armchair in the not-too-crowded dining area. When his name was called, there was a warm muffin with his coffee, and he literally felt himself swoon, needing to fuss with napkins and cream and sugar long enough to get his legs under him again before he made his way back to his seat. It would be very unfortunate if he literally became a lovesick puddle in this man’s place of business, they hadn’t even gone on a date yet.

He managed to leave with little fanfare, waving to Eskel with a warm smile on his lips on his way out that night. It seemed only natural to stop by again the next day for his morning fix, looking for tips to guide his search for more permanent lodging. Eskel had greeted him with a smile then, too, seeming genuinely pleased to see him again and only too happy to help. Jaskier was an absolute goner.

It had become a daily routine after that, although he didn’t always come in at the same time. Somehow, Eskel was always there, though, the sight of him causing a warm flutter in Jaskier’s belly every time. Jaskier didn’t bother fooling himself into thinking he had reasons for coming every day that went beyond not-so-polite ogling and a few minutes of chatting with the handsome, charming man. Eskel’s warm personality was like the sun on a cold winter day and Jaskier reveled in it. He wanted more.

Which brought him to today. He’d brought his notebook as both an attempt to get some work done for his new album and as a cover for his hopefully-not-obvious pining. Off to a piss-poor start, you are, Jaskier.

With that fresh failure in mind, he made a concentrated effort to pull his attention away from the counter and Eskel’s crooked grin, his thoughts finally catching up to him. It was snowing outside currently, the chill coming in every time the door opened. It was always snowing in Ard Carraigh, it seemed. Jaskier wondered if he’d ever get used to the cold. He was glad he’d picked a table near the blessedly roaring fireplace and gratefully wrapped both hands more securely around his mug.

His newfound freedom was going well, all things considered. He found a place to stay easily enough, a walk-up studio above the florist’s shop advertised on flyers posted along the main street. It was only a few blocks away, and he’d started to take great pleasure in his morning walk to the little cafe-bar known as The Wolves’ Den. Over the last few weeks, he’d developed a routine, coming to the shop at least once a day for a few hours, usually spending the rest of his time wandering the streets for inspiration or holed up writing at home when it got too cold. The beautiful winter scenery in the mountains truly took his breath away some days, and he found himself writing more than he had in months. He missed his friends, but he was truly happy he left.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Jaskier looked up, startled out of the trance he’d fallen into, and saw warm hazel eyes gazing down at him. He smiled, immediately relaxing in Eskel’s comforting presence.

“Oh, nothing much worth a penny. Just the musings of a humble bard–very cliche, I must say,” he aimed a rueful grin up at his friend. “How are you today, Eskel?”

The other man smiled, gesturing with his head at the seat opposite Jaskier, hands occupied with a steaming mug and a plate of scones.

“Well, thank you. Taking a short break since the rush is over. Mind if I sit?”

Jaskier positively beamed, absolutely chuffed despite himself. “Please do. I enjoy your company.”

They’d chatted several times in the last few weeks, so this wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Usually, for a few minutes during Jaskier’s daily visits, Eskel would pepper him with questions–he’d ask how Jaskier’d been settling in, if he needed recommendations for things to see around town, if he needed any help with anything. He was truly sweet, with a heart as big as his bloated biceps. It was damned intolerable.

Eskel settled in across from him, taking a deep drink and sitting back into his chair with a content sigh. He pushed the plate of scones between them, a clear offer for Jaskier to take the second one. He glanced out the window where Jaskier’s gaze had been drawn a few moments before, offering a smirk to the musician.

“Got some bad news for you, I’m afraid. The winters here only get worse. When the cold really sets in, you won’t be able to see more than a few feet in front of you, with the snow and all. Absolutely dreadful, no way around it. Still have time to leave before the roads ice up.”

Jaskier shakes his head at that, huffing mock-indignantly. “Wouldn’t dream of it! Other than freezing my balls off every day and night, I honestly feel better than I have in ages.” He’s struck again for a moment by how true that statement is.

“Oh?” Eskel raises a brow, “You never did mention what brought you here. Our town isn’t exactly a homing beacon for tourists.”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Shitty break-up, quarter-life crisis… seems like I lost something of myself, somewhere in the last few years. It seemed like a good time to try somewhere new,” Jaskier traces a finger around the rim of his mug, humming thoughtfully.

Eskel is watching him with interest, taking a bite out of a cinnamon streusel scone. “Hm. Can’t say I didn’t go through the same thing myself, so I get it,” he returns Jaskier’s rueful grin with one of his own before taking a sip of his coffee.

“That’s a story I’d love to hear some time… It’s funny, though, Eskel. I stopped in countless towns on my way out of Oxenfurt, and I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something about here felt right. I’ve been writing more than I have in months; I didn’t realize I was quite so stuck before. Something about this town, the scenery… the people. I’m realizing now I never got a chance to thank you.”

The other man’s brow furrows, his head tilting slightly like an adorably oversized puppy. Jaskier resists the urge to pet his soft-looking hair, but only barely.

“For what?”

“For welcoming me. For being so kind. If I hadn’t spent time around you these last few weeks, I’d be flattered that a handsome man such as yourself was paying me such attention, but I realize you’re like this with everyone,” he gave a wistful chuckle. “Either way, thank you. You’re a good man and a good friend, Eskel.”

Jaskier is too caught up in his little speech to notice the very slight pink the other man has turned at the word handsome and the compliments that followed, the way his tongue unconsciously flicks over his lower lip before he bites at it nervously.

“No thanks needed, really. It’s been nice to see a new face, to get to know you…” Eskel hesitates, rubbing at the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture Jaskier has come to recognize. “Actually–”

Before Eskel can finish his sentence, though, the redheaded brother Jaskier vaguely knows as Lambert comes storming out of the back. The other man typically works behind the scenes, creating some of the delicious confections filling the shop’s bakery case. Eskel’s mentioned in passing his personality isn’t exactly helpful for keeping a loyal customer base, and, you know, fair.

“Oi, Esk! These pastries aren’t going to ice themselves! Stop gawking at Pretty Boy and get back to work.”

Eskel, the dear man, flushes a delightful shade of strawberry and begins to stand. He clears his throat. “Well, duty calls. I’ll, uh, see you later, Jaskier.”

Eskel goes to turn away, empty mug in hand, and before he can help himself Jaskier finds himself catching the other man’s sleeve. “Wait!”

Eskel turns back to face him, and Jaskier turns a matching shade of cherry, quickly releasing him and moving his hand to instead tap a restless rhythm against his thigh. “Were you… going to ask me something?”

“Oh. Uh…” And the hesitance is back with a vengeance, Eskel rubbing now at his scars as they stand together. His bashfulness is very becoming, Jaskier thinks, Eskel’s usual calm confidence nowhere to be seen. Eskel’s maroon sweater is pulled taut across his broad chest, he is looking a bit timidly at Jaskier with those hazel eyes flecked with gold and green, and the flutter in Jaskier’s stomach starts to ache.

Oh, fuck it. Carpe diem, and all that.

“You know…” Jaskier starts, a little more shy than he’d like, but hopefully with at least a smidgen of his usual flirtatiousness, “I’m not sure if you’d be free–honestly, you’re always here, come to think of it, you really should take a day off–but I would love getting a more personal tour of Ard Carraigh. I’m sure there’s plenty I’ve been missing… could really use an insider perspective, I think. Would you be… available?”

The tables are turned, Jaskier anxiously rubbing his fingers together as Eskel sort of gawks at him, looking startled. Jaskier almost perishes from the sheer embarrassment of it all and just about tells him to forget the whole thing, before Eskel snaps out of it and takes a teeny-tiny step toward him. Jaskier feels the step or two between them like a gaping chasm but forces himself to be patient. Eskel takes a fortifying breath and squares his shoulders, seeming to steel himself.

“Only if I can take you out properly, maybe take you to dinner afterward. I’d, um, really like to get to know you better.”

And praise be to the gods, maybe there really was something to seizing the moment. Jaskier finds himself smiling radiantly up at the other man, pleased as punch. “It’s a date, then.”

Sweet, kind, lovable Eskel sighs in what appears to be relief of all things and Jaskier can’t understand how anyone would not jump at the chance to know him. Jaskier sees the confident light come back into Eskel’s eyes, and, oh, he doesn’t quite know what to do now that he knows the other man is actually interested in him. Eskel, thankfully, doesn’t need telling twice, and closes the remaining distance between them easily. He bends his head to press a chaste kiss to Jaskier’s cheekbone, the featherlight press of lips there and gone before he can blink.

“Looking forward to it, sweetheart. Meet me here tomorrow around noon? Dress warmly.” And Jaskier, for all of his bravado and posturing, can only nod faintly in stunned shock, lifting a hand to press against his cheek. If only his friends could see him now, silent for the first time since he emerged from the womb. It would make headlines, surely.

Eskel, the absolute devil, winks at him like the night they met–a broad, beautiful, crooked grin spreading across his face as he gives a little wave and saunters towards the kitchen after Lambert. Presumably to ice those godsdamned pastries. Jaskier stares after him, eyes lingering wistfully on a plump behind and strong, tree-trunk-thick thighs.

Huh. Maybe I really do have a chance of climbing him.

#asi writes #jaskel #jaskel fics #the witcher #witcher #jaskier/eskel #jaskier/eskel fics #witcher fanfiction #jaskier x eskel #jaskier x eskel fics #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #eskel

[theunseeliemperoress]

AU August Day 5: Teachers

(TA Lityeres and English teacher Apollo with a little smut thrown in anyone? this is my first attempt at writing anything explicit.)

This fic is 18+

Lityerses took a deep breath as he stepped through the school gates. The building a strange mix of old brick he’d once been familiar with and new glass and steel that had been added after he’d graduated. Never thought I’d be back here, he thought as he looked around. Besides the new extension it hadn’t changed much. Walking through the doors he found the inside was also more or less the same. New photos had been added to the trophy cabinet, Lit couldn’t help but pause to find his old hockey team photo, and it seemed someone had finally fixed that damn light a few tiles down. Good, the incessant flickering had always gotten on his nerves. He was just about to pull himself from the cabinet when he heard a voice from behind him.

‘Can I help you?’ he turned around to see a man not much older than himself standing behind him. He was a tall man, though not lanky. With blonde hair, well gold might have been more accurate, that was long enough to just touch the top of his shoulders. He was smiling at Lityerses but in a way that made it clear he wanted to be somewhere else. Judging by the stack of papers and folders in his arms that somewhere else was a classroom.

‘Oh right sorry. Um I’m the new TA.’ The man nodded.

‘Oh for the biology class right? I heard you’d be coming. You’ll be heading for the principals office I can show you the way if you like.’ Lityerses shook his head.

‘No it’s okay. I actually went to school here so I know where it is. That’s if it’s still in the old building.’ The man nodded.

‘Well I’m going to walk with you anyway, since my classroom is down that way as well.’ The two men began walking down the left side hallway.

‘So what was your name again?’ the man asked.

‘Lityerses Green.’ He answered. The man let out a laugh at this.

‘Mr Green the biology teacher. Well weren’t you made for this job.’

‘I’m only a TA.’

‘Still you never know. Anyway my names Apollo. Say Lit you wouldn’t happen to know the teacher you’ll be working with? Ms Green.’

‘She’s my mother.’ Lityerses admitted shifting a little. He hoped Apollo wouldn’t ask why he had his mothers last name. Truth was he’d changed it after a particularly bad falling out with his father, which had ended in him being disowned and fired from the family company. To prideful to ask for help from his mother or any of his friends he’d found a job as security for a man his father often did business with. Or at least that’s what they called it on his contract. Truth was something had never felt right about that job from the first pay cheque, or should that be first wad of cash, but by the time he’d realised what exactly he’d gotten himself in for it was too late to bail out. Not without his boss securing his silence. He’d only gotten out because the police got involved, and the only reason he wasn’t in jail was because his mother had threatened his father until he agreed to let Lit use his lawyer. The lawyer had hammed up his naivety to the whole situation, playing the sheltered little rich kid angle to its full potential. He would have cracked up at this if he hadn’t been so scared. He’d spent most of his highschool and all of his college years street fighting, as well as selling a few bags from his, secret, garden.

‘So you got this job through nepotism. Same here though mine goes all the way to the top.’ Lityerses stared at him.

‘So you’re dad’s the…’

‘The principal that’s right.’

‘So I’m guessing you also went to school here?’ Apollo shook his head.

‘Nope I was sent to boarding school along with my sister. You’ll see her around, she’s a gym teacher as well as the coach for several of the girls sports teams.’ With that he stopped outside a door and turned to face Lityerses.

‘Well this is my classroom so this is where we part ways.’ He began to push the door open before turning around again. ‘Oh I just remembered I’m going to get drinks with a few of our co workers after work on friday, would you like to come? It’ll be a great way for you to get to know everyone. Well everyone who wouldn’t have taught you that is.’ Lityerses blinked at him but then smiled.

‘Yeah I’d like that. If you have room for one more.’ Apollo nodded, his smile somehow managing to brighten, and disappeared into the room that from what Lityerses could see was an English classroom.

***

As he approached the front door Lityerses could here the clanging sounds that could have only come from his youngest sisters attempts to play the piano. Either that or someone had gotten sick of her attempts to play the piano and had pushed it down a flight of stairs. Deciding there was no way the door bell would be heard over that racket he raised his fist and pounded on the door instead. It was soon opened by a haggard looking young woman who was casually tugging on her dreadlocks.

‘Hey Persephone.’ He said giving his sister a quick one armed hug.

‘Hey yourself.’ She replied giving his arm a squeeze in return. She was wearing a lacy top which showed most of her back and midriff, Lit couldn’t help but to think she’d done so to annoy their mother, and there was a fairly new tattoo on her arm of a skull sitting in a bed of flowers.

‘Do you like it? Hades paid for it as a wedding anniversary gift.’ Lityerses smiled and said he did, though he was also dreading the fifty times their mother would bring it up to complain. He was about to mention this when he heard a familiar voice coming from the living room.

‘Lit? How nice to see you.’ He turned to find Apollo standing there grinning from ear to ear. Lityerses stared at him mouth agape. He’d never seen him in his casual clothes before and it certainly wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He wore skinny jeans and a t-shirt that was even skinnier that showed a faint outline of his muscles every time he breathed in. His hair was tied back in a messy bun and draped over his arm was a bomber jacket as well as a hoodie that was too small to be his. Lityerses suddenly became very aware of the small stain on the sleeve of his hoodie, and had to fight back the urge to fix his hair.

‘Uh yeah you to. Um what are you doing here?’ he asked. Shit why did he have to say it like that? Apollo however seemed unfazed.

‘I was giving little Meg her piano lessons.’

‘You teach piano?’

‘I teach a few instruments. As well as archery. Teaching in a school doesn’t pay as much as you’d like and I have five mouths to feed. Talking of which, Lee hurry up.’ He yelled this last part into the living room. There was a sound of the old armchair creaking and shuffling footsteps. Lityerses stared as a boy around ten appeared in the doorway. He stared up at Lityerses with round blue eyes that seemed almost too big for his small face.

‘What happened to you?’ he asked pointing at Lityerses. Without really thinking about it he reached up and touched the scars that ran along his entire face.

‘Lee that’s rude.’ Apollo scolded. ‘I’m sorry about him, he’s a good kid but he has no filter when it comes to his curiosity.’

‘You can say that again.’ Lityerses turned to see his mother walking out of the kitchen. ‘Though I’m more than happy to let you bring him again.’ She added as she handed Apollo his money for the days lesson.

‘Thank you. But hopefully after this test we won’t have anymore hospital visits.’ He gave Lee’s shoulder a quick squeeze. ‘Well we’d better go or we’ll be late.’

‘Aren’t you going to give your auntie Persephone a hug?’ Lit’s sister teased. Laughing Apollo gave her a quick squeeze and Persephone bent down to let Lee give her a kiss on the cheek. Lityerses watched the two leave until his sister closed the door, before turning to look at her.

‘Auntie Persephone?’ he asked.

‘I’m married to his uncle, which makes me his aunt.’

‘And the kids great aunt.’

‘Oh shut it.’ She snapped giving him a light shove.

***

He wasn’t sure what made him approach Apollo’s classroom but for some reason Lityerses found himself standing in the doorway watching as he looked over the papers on his desk.

‘I swear they’re so stupid.’ Apollo muttered to himself. ‘I mean who describes as persons face as being “Like a drawing but in 3D?’ Lityerses couldn’t help but let out a snort at that. Startled Apollo spun round his face breaking out into a smile when he saw who was standing there.

‘Lit. Please come in.’ He pushed the papers to one side and stood up. Lit closed the door behind him and approached the desk his heart pounding. This is ridiculous he thought, I shouldn’t be doing this, not here.  

‘Is there anything I can help you with?’ Apollo asked his smile faltering as a look of concern crossed his eyes. Lit swallowed and took a deep breath.

‘Would you like to go for dinner with me? Tomorrow night that is? Just the two of us…’ shit he felt like he was going as red as his Corn Huskers sweater. Apollo blinked at him.

‘Oh uh well I’d have to see if I can get a babysitter for the kids.’ Lit felt his heart sink. ‘But if not I can do Saturday. My moms having them all round for tea anyway.’ Feeling his face split into a smile Lit nodded.

‘Saturday’s good.’

‘So it’s a date.’ Apollo nodded.

‘Yeah a date. That is I mean if you want it to be. I don’t mind if we just…’ he stopped when he realised Apollo had one hand resting on his hip and the other cupping his chin.

‘Oh but I do want it to be a date.’ He said as he lowered his face so that his lips were touching Lityerses’s. For a second Lit was surprised, but this quickly wore off and he was soon kissing him back. Not really thinking about what he was doing he found one hand reaching for the back of Apollo’s head and the other for the small of his back. For a moment he wondered of this would make him pull away but instead he found himself being lifted on to the desk as Apollo moved his lips away from his own and down to his neck. As he did so his hand made its way up Lit’s shirt making him shudder in pleasure. He wanted more so much more. And he told Apollo as much whispering the words into his ear. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the other man’s eyes light up as he took Lit’s hand and lead it to his belt. Realising what he wanted him to do he began to fumble with the buckle as Apollo eased his own pants down.

‘So do you want to go first or shall I?’ he asked.

‘You’d better go first. Since I’m already sat down.’ Lityerses replied. Apollo gave a chuckle at that and kissed his lips again, then his neck, his chest and his stomach before kissing his inner thigh. Taking a deep breath Lit leaned back and closed his eyes as he felt the other man’s fingers stroke along his cock. The anticipation was enough to make him cry out but he didn’t have to wait for long. A feeling of extasy ripped through him and a smile plastered itself upon his face as he grasped at the back of Apollo’s head. When he was finished Apollo gave his thigh one last kiss before standing up.

‘So what did you think. Not bad huh?’ Lit grinned at him.

‘I think coming back to school was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.’

#au_gust_2022 #au_gust #fan fiction #riordanverse #litpollo #lityerses #apollo #long post #smut #just a little at the end

[yeslieutenant]

Introductions

Welp. Here it is. Chapter 1. Let's remeet the characters I suppose?

A/N: Just to clarify, Eric is not given traits because he is pretty much only in this chapter. He was not forgotten, just isn't in a majority of the story. Y/N stands for Your Name. Y/N/N stands for Your Nickname!

Series Warnings: Violence, swearing, gore, slow horror build up, possibly smut in epilogue, character death, drinking, panic attacks, PTSD.

Chapter Warnings: Argument between father and son, swearing, drinking, otherwise, this chapter should be pretty wholesome.

Word Count: 4,140 (sheesh this took forever)

Link to Prologue

May 27th, 2005

6:21 PM

United Kingdom

Zain

The breeze rustled my short brown locks, goosebumps breaking out along my exposed arms. Tariq said the day was going to be perfect for a t-shirt, but I can’t help but shiver in the crisp 15-degree weather.

“Zain!” I turn to see the liar himself striding towards me, his white wife-beater practically glowing among the spring colors.

Zain Othman

College Student

19

Inquisitive

Reckless

“Tariq! You told me it was supposed to be warm today!” I wrap my arms around myself to emphasize my point.

“It is warm! You feel that warm May air?” He exclaims, sticking his arms out wide. Tariq always was one for dramatics. “Hey wait, isn’t your birthday coming up in a few days?” He asks, his arms dropping back down to his sides with a smack.

“Yup,” I hate my birthday. I know Dad does too. It reminds him of the incident back in Iraq. He never goes into detail, only that it was an experience he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. He talks about the people though. The Americans he teamed up with. Jason. Y/N. Nick. Eric. I hope to meet them one day. I am knocked out of my thoughts as Tariq’s hand makes contact with the back of my head.

“Earth to Zain! You in there?” He chuckles, his smile bright.

“Yeah, I’m here. Just zoned out, sorry.”

“I asked what you wanted to do for your birthday! We could go get smashed!” He suggests, raising his left eyebrow with that mischievous glint shining in his brown eyes.

“We still have class the next day. My birthday falls on a Monday this year, Sadiqaa.” I laugh, my fist landing lazily against his bare arm. We begin the trek back to our respective housing. Tariq lives in the dorms with 3 other boys our age. They are all pretty nice, albeit a bit loud. Tariq fits in perfectly with them.

“You sure you don’t wanna come in, play some Halo?” He questions and I shrug.

“You know I’d like to, but I promised my alab I’d be home for dinner,” I reply before continuing on.

“Wadaeaan, Zain!” Tariq calls, his voice echoing along the rows of old brick buildings.

“Wadaeaan, Tariq!” I really am glad Tariq got accepted to the same university as me, although sometimes, I really wish I could escape his hyperactive personality. I survey the campus around me; The greens are starting to emerge from the trees around me, fresh rain and recently bloomed flowers’ scents permeating the air. The United Kingdom really is lovely. The red bricks that make up all of the campus buildings stand as a testament to their age, and it’s hard not to notice the bustle of students around me as it nears the end of the day. I glance down at my sneakers as I walk, the childish urge to not step on a crack bringing a smile to my face.

I suddenly snap back to reality as I feel a body into mine and fall to the hard concrete, landing flat on my ass. I release a puff of air from my mouth as I use my hands to break my fall, my palms scraping the rough terrain.

“I am so sorry! I was in such a rush, I didn’t even see you there!” I look up to see a hand extended out to me. I grab it without thinking, allowing the stranger to help me to my feet.

“It’s alright, I wasn’t looking where I was going either,” I admit, my eyes landing on the stranger. He’s caucasian, black aviators covering his eyes. His mousey brown hair is ruffled as if he was running his fingers through it repeatedly.

“Do you happen to know your way around?” The stranger asks, disoriented and off-track. 

He’s definitely lost.

“I do. Where are you looking to go?”

“I’m actually looking for someone in particular. Zain Othman. Do you happen to know him?” I blink for a brief moment before I chuckle.

“You actually found him. I’m Zain.” He looks surprised for a moment before chuckling himself.

“Oh good. Your professors recommended you, so I’ve been on campus for an hour looking for you.” He admits, scratching the side of his beard sheepishly.

“Recommended me for what?” This stranger has definitely piqued my interest. I wonder which professors he spoke to…

“An expedition. To a location just south of here?” My jaw drops at the mention. An expedition? Here? “My colleague may have found evidence of the US Government covering up Tír Na Nóg.” He is. The Land of Youth. But I thought that was in Ireland? I feel my jaw go slack at the mention. The Land of Youth. Here. “Sorry, I’m so rude. My name is Christopher Cook, but my friends call me Chris.” He offers his hand to shake and I snap myself out of my reverie, gripping his hand firmly. I felt the palm of my hand sting, momentarily forgetting the abrasions my hands had just received. I feel like my eyes are about to bulge out of my head.

“I’m sure you have lots of questions, but-”

“It’s Winterfold Forest, right? To the South East of Stonehenge?” The question leaves my mouth unbidden, and I watch his eyebrows raise over the line of his sunglasses. His fingers grasp the rim of his sunglasses and pull them down over his eyes, a smile gracing his features as he nods.

“How you feel about a little adventure, kid?”

The door flies open as I bolt into the house.

“Alab, I brought company!” I shout, dropping my bag by the door of our flat, as they call them here.

“Tariq?” I hear my father shout, presumably from his bedroom. Probably grading papers, like always.

“Um, no, Alab. Can you come out here?” I hear the chair scrape against the floor, followed by the thumping of his footsteps on the wooden floor. He rounds the corner from the hallway and his dark eyes immediately find Chris’, and his expression quickly shows one of confusion. 

Salim Othman

Foreign Language Teacher

42

Practical

Stubborn

Chris definitely doesn’t look like a college student. His sky blue t-shirt is hidden under a black leather jacket and his blue jeans are worn and frayed on the edges. Chris raises his hand in my father’s direction.

“Mr. Othman, Pleasure.” But dad makes no move to respond.

“Zain, who is this?” He questions, his eyes finding mine.

“His name is Christopher Cook. He’s leading an expedition to Winterfold Forest! They may have found something, just like I said!” I say, excitement laced in each word. “He wants me to come with him, Alab, My professors all recommended me!” I say, my excitement impossible to contain. But, one look at my father and my excitement withers away.. I know the answer. His brows are furrowed, his mouth already forming the dreaded word.

“No. Zain, you can’t be serious?” He asks, astounded at my audacious behavior.

“Alab, he showed me his credentials. He is being truthful,” I defend.

“Zain, you are not going on some goose chase at the drop of a hat.” I feel the anger swell in my chest at his refusal. “I apologize, Mr. Cook, but my son will not be going with you. You will need to find someone else.”

“I respect your authority, Mr. Othman, but Zain is the only one who knew exactly what I was talking about before I even said it. There is no one else who knows this info like your son.”

“I understand that Zain is knowledgeable, but he is still a young boy-”

“I am going, Alab.” I finally say, finding my voice. The look on his face is that of pure shock. “I am 20 years old, I think I’m fit to make my own choices.” I proclaim, turning on my heel and striding into my room, finishing the conversation before my father has a chance to protest.

May 29th, 2005

6:58PM

Washington DC, United States of America

Y/N

I glance at the digital clock on the dashboard of my car, finding I am just barely early. ‘Eric is probably inside already’ I think to myself as I place my heeled low stiletto on the pavement. I grab my purse, slinging it over my shoulder before closing the door quickly. I lock the car before walking towards the restaurant.

Y/N King

Trauma Nurse

25

Caring

Anxious

Eric always picks some upscale place in downtown DC for this stupid meet-up. I love the guys, and I find myself missing them more and more lately. Especially when I arise from bed, screams dying in my throat and my skin covered in a cold sweat. PTSD. Iraq. I shiver at the memory of the winged beasts ripping Rachel to shreds in front of our eyes. I shake my head, almost comically, to clear the image from behind my eyes. The breeze picks up and I feel my yellow cotton sundress flutter around, thankfully not enough for me to be concerned about flashing anyone. I pull open the wooden door and almost immediately I am bombarded by the smell of freshly grilled meat and falsely scented candles. The hostess looks at me expectantly.

“Reservation for 4. The name should be King.” She nods and smiles, gesturing me to follow behind her as she weaves between tables. The beige walls act like soundproofing, the voices and clinking glasses bouncing off of them to stay contained within this large space.

“Mr. King insisted your table be seated outside.” Thank God for Eric’s big brain. The patio door opens and it already feels much calmer. A light jazzy tune slips through the speakers as my eyes find my brother. He is dressed in blue jeans and an untucked button-down that has what I assume to be pineapples on it. His dirty blonde hair is unkempt and he has a light dusting of facial hair beginning to grow on his jaw. He turns his head as I approach and his face lights up in a full toothy grin. He stands, his arms spread wide, inviting me into a hug.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you,” he says, his arms wrapping around my small frame.

“Likewise,” I smile warmly, my arms wrapping around his back to return the hug. We pull back and he smiles as he gestures to the seat next to him. I sit gratefully as we make idle chat, ordering the first round of drinks.

“Think Nick’ll show?” Eric asks, a teasing tone in his voice, but I know there will always be a part of him that disagrees with Nick. That crack is far too wide to bridge over by now.

“He will be. I talked to him just yesterday and he said he’d be here,” I answer truthfully.

“Have you talked to Jason recently?” At the mention of the Lieutenant, I feel my cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, we talked a while ago.”

“Still got the hots for him, I see.” Eric teases. The blush on my cheeks darkens and I punch his arm playfully. He chuckles. “I don’t know why you don’t say something to him. He’s obviously into you.” Eric continues.

“He’s seeing someone right now,” I say, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Now is not the time to let the little green monster take over, Y/N. Eric’s face briefly registers shock before morphing into a small frown.

“I’m sorry, Y/N/N.”

“It’s fine. I want him to be happy. If Kelsey makes him happy, then I’m good with that,” Keep the venom out of your words, Y/N. I plaster on a fake smile and I know Eric can see right through it. He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by none other than Sergeant Nicolas Kay shouting over the tin of the music.

Nicolas Kay

Recently Discharged Marine Sergeant

32

Defensive

Romantic

“Y/N! Eric!” He smiles and waves. He hasn’t lost any of his muscle definition since deciding not to reenlist, and the hostess not so subtly gives his exposed arms a once over as he approaches the table. I stand quickly as Nick wraps those arms around me, spinning me in a dramatic circle.

“Nicky! Put me down!” The protest comes out in the form of a giggle, and he sets my feet safely down on the wooden patio before laughing himself.

“How’ve you been Y/N/N?”

“Good! And you? I mean, it’s been so long since we last spoke.” The sarcasm drips off of my words and he laughs again.

“SO long, Ms. King. I’m good. The airport was hell though,” he admits, rolling his eyes so hard I swear they almost fell out. Nick has on a black tank top and board shorts, proving he expected it to feel like summer, when, as soon as the sun sinks below the horizon, the temperature quickly drops. He has what looks like a fresh buzz cut, and I realize I have hardly ever seen him without his signature Boonie hat.

“Nick. Good to see you.” Eric stands and reaches his hand out for a shake, which Nick gratefully accepts. At least they are civil.

“Likewise, man.” Eric sits back down and I follow suit. Nick moves to take the chair next to me. I watch as a sly smile crosses his lips as he moves past the seat, choosing the one next to Eric instead. I mock pout for a moment.

“You don’t wanna sit by me, Nicky?”

“I think you’d prefer someone else sit there.” The smirk on his face is enough to bring the blush back in full force, resting brightly on my cheeks and making the “artificial” blush I put on completely irrelevant. I hear Eric release a breath that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle.

“Something funny, Colonel?” I ask, my eyes glaring daggers at my older brother.

“Nope. Nothing.” He clears his throat, exchanging a glance with Nick. Just as soon as he thinks my eyes have reverted back to the menu, he leans over for a fist bump, which Nick happily obliges.

“I saw that,” I mumble, rolling my eyes playfully. 

“So Y/N/N, what are we drinking?” Nick inquires, his eyes landing on my light orange gradient drink.

“Sex on the Beach,” I reply, dramatically winking at the marine. He laughs and Eric rolls his eyes.

“You drink that fruity crap? Kinda a girly drink, don’t you think?”

“Well last I checked, I am a girl. And you go ahead, drink your bread water that’ll take at least 6 drinks for you to feel anything. I am drinking liquefied tipsy juice. It’ll take me maybe 2 drinks. It’s called efficiency, Nicky.” He immediately bursts out laughing.

“Shit. Maybe I should get me one of those.” I raise my eyebrows, challenging his statement.

“Are you man enough to drink a girl drink?” I laugh, and Nick opens his mouth to retort before his eyes catch something that just walked through the door onto the patio. Or someone. I turn towards whatever has grabbed Nick’s attention and feel my breath hitch in my throat. Jason. Nick stands, walking toward Jason, a smile on his lips.

How can someone look exactly the same but so different at the same time? Jason’s donning a pale blue button-down, unbuttoned to reveal a white v-neck beneath, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, perfectly showing off the tattoo on his left forearm. His jeans look worn, but not unkempt, and his hair is conveniently covered by that damned hat. 

CENTCOM took everything we were wearing after the incident in the temple and incinerated it, for “safety”, of course, which included Jason’s beloved hat. While walking through the bustling DC streets about a year ago, I found one that was practically identical, minus all the wear and tear, and knew I couldn’t ignore it. I bought it and mailed it to him in Kentucky, and he called me the next night, excitement in his voice as he told me how perfectly it fits and how grateful he was.

As he approaches, I stand from my seat and as his dark chocolate eyes find mine, he smiles, those adorable dimples making indents in his cheeks as he firmly wraps me in a hug.

Jason Kolchek

Recently discharged Marine Lieutenant

32

Confident

Isolated

“It’s real good to see you, Y/N/N.” He says, and I smile shyly at how easy it was for me to forget how sexy his accent is. He smells like fresh pine and aftershave, although from a quick glance at him as we pull back from the hug, it’s clear he hasn’t shaved. It’s not overwhelming, just enough to know it’s there, but more pronounced than it was in Iraq.

“Likewise, Jase,” I say, trying not to stutter like my heart is. I plop my ass back in my chair and receive a wink from Nick out of the corner of my eye as Jason takes the seat next to me. I shoot him a glare. If looks could kill, Nick.

After a few rounds of drinks, we’ve all loosened up quite a bit. I feel the muscles in my cheeks sting from how long I’ve been smiling and laughing, but I do nothing to stop the next joke pouring from Nick’s intoxicated tongue.

“They say that during sex you burn off as many calories as running eight miles. Who the hell runs eight miles in 30 seconds?” It’s a terrible joke, but we’re all tipsy enough that it may as well have come from a comedian.

I giggle, a small hiccup breaching my throat and I quickly cover my mouth. They all notice though, and Eric looks at me, a dorky grin on his face.

“Y/N used to hiccup every time she laughed when we were kids, but her friends teased her about it, so she taught herself how to laugh without hiccuping over the course of the summer.”

“Eric, don’t tell them that!” I say, smacking him on the arm again.

“Aw, I think it’s cute, Y/N/N,” Jason says, his muscular arms crossing over his chest.

“Cute, huh? I think it’s dorky, which conveniently, is just like you,” Nick adds, leaning his elbows on the table. I feel the warmth returning to my cheeks and attempt to hide it by lifting my drink and taking a sip. We fall into a comfortable silence, the music still playing through the mounted speakers. Eric clears his throat before speaking.

“So Jason, Y/N mentioned that you’re dating. How’s that?” At the mention, Jason rubs the back of his neck, and Nick and I exchange a glance. His nervous tick.

“Um, it was okay. I ended things a few months back. Kinda hard to find someone with similar experiences. I couldn’t open up to her, and it felt wrong to leave her in the dark.” He explains, a small frown appearing on his pink lips.

“Doesn’t help that you weren’t THAT into her in the first place, LT.” Nick tacks on.

“Definitely not.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck again. He’s blushing now. Nick and Jason continue their joking banter when Eric grabs my attention. Similar experiences? He mouths, winking in my direction. I quickly shake my head no, hoping he’ll drop it, with no such luck, of course.

“Y/N, you tried dating a while back, right?” Eric asks, a mischevious smile appearing. I smile, wide and fake in Eric’s direction before turning to the table. Jason and Nick are both looking at me expectantly, and I shrug.

“Yeah. Didn’t work out,” I admit, before gesturing to Jason nonchalantly. “Similar experiences and all that.” I mumble as I sip my drink. Nick chuckles, and I pray he shuts up before he says something stupid.

“I bet Jason could take you on a hell of a date, Y/N/N.” That. That was something stupid. Asshole. My cheeks must be the same shade as the tomatoes on Eric’s plate as I glare at Nick. Jason clears his throat next to me and I risk a glance at the Lieutenant. His cheeks are as red as mine are, even in the fading sunlight. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he looks to me. I look away just as fast, hoping he didn’t catch me as chew on the inside of my lower lip. Eric speaks, slicing through the almost tangible tension. 

“Yeah, he could take ya fishin’, Y/N/N.” He teases, his voice rising in a crude imitation of Jason’s accent.

“Hey, don’t hate on fishin. It’s relaxin.” Jason defends, his lips forming a crooked smile, one dimple appearing in the corner of his mouth.

“I used to love fishing with dad, unlike you.” It’s one of my favorite memories with our dad.

“Dad had to bait the hooks for you and everything.” He laughs.

“Yeah. I was 5!”

“Do you know how to bait a hook now, Y/N?” He questions, an accusatory smile on his face. I open my mouth to snap back and realize I have nothing to say. My lips slowly seal shut in a guilty smile as the table bursts into laughter. Jason taps me on the arm.

“If you find yourself in Kentucky, I’ll take you fishin, Y/N/N. I’ll even bait the hook for you.” He winks, and my mouth goes bone dry before I quickly find my voice.

“You got yourself a deal, Kolchek.” Point 1- Eric and Nick.

As soon as the sun goes down, I find myself shivering as the spring air cools rapidly, my arms coming up to rub over my arms.

“You cold, Y/N/N?” Jason leans over, whispering in my direction, as not to disturb the conversation between Nick and Eric. I shake my head quickly.

“No, I’m good.” I lie, but the obvious shiver that runs down my spine betrays me. He chuckles, a low sound that forces another shiver through me, though for a very different reason. Eric is waving his hands, talking animatedly about some mission he was on a few weeks prior when I feel fabric drape over my shoulders. I glance down and see the pale blue shirt Jason had on resting comfortably on my shoulders and I look up at the marine with a smile. His responding smile warms my heart and I slip my arms into the sleeves as his scent reaches my nose. I definitely don’t take a long moment to admire how his biceps look in the tight white v-neck he is sporting. Not at all. I would never. The evening winds down to a close after about 30 more minutes of laughing and sipping on water. We all give hugs and say our goodbyes, and Eric gives a joking “see you next year” as he walks to his vehicle. Nick heads to his rental, with a wave and a promise to call ASAP. Jason begins to walk me to my car.

“You don’t have to do that, Jase.”

“I don’t mind walking a lady to her car. Besides, I think I’m parked next to you.” 

I chuckle.

“What?”

“Lady?” The question rolls off my tongue before I can stop it, and Jason reacts with a chuckle of his own.

“Look doll, Just cause you can fight off alien vampires don’t mean you’re not a lady.”

“I could show you just how unladylike I can be.” What the fuck am I saying?! “Fishing. Very unladylike,” Smooth, Y/N/N. Smooth.

“Definitely. I figured that’s what you meant,” a sly smile on his face, and he winks again. We reach my car door and I unlock it quickly before turning, pulling my arms out of Jason’s shirt before he stops me with a hand on my arm. “You hold onto it. You need it more than I do.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I’m sure I’ll see you again before I head back south. Nick and I are in town for a few days. Maybe we could grab coffee one of those days?” I couldn’t say no to that face even if I wanted to. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just some newfound confidence, but I lean up on my toes and place a light kiss on his cheek before replying.

“I could probably squeeze you in.” I immediately panic, my words coming out in a jumbled mess. “Into my schedule, coffee, with you, and Nick! Squeeze you guys into my schedule. For coffee.” That dimpled grin is on his face again, and he leans in, his soft lips landing on my cheek for a brief second, the same as I had just done to him.

“See you soon then, Ms. King.”

Chapter 2

Tags: @kawaiiwitch224 @yellowroseskolchek @house-of-kolchek @lorebite @buttermykolchek @katsufairies @kassiekolchek22

Tag list is open! Message me if you would like to be added.

#house of ashes #house of ashes fanfic #jason kolchek #jason kolchek x reader #jason kolchek fanfiction

[lillykayewrites]

CHANGE ME CHAPTER ONE:

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1279

Hi guys! This is Chapter one of CHANGE ME! I’m so excited to share this with ya’ll and if you want to see where I write, follow me on wattpad @myrealities_

I also will post songs along with the chapters that fit the story! I really hope you enjoy!🤍

Hurricane, Utah...the open land of deserts, mountains, and clean, fresh air. Also, where I have officially arrived, after nineteen long and treacherous hours of non-stop driving, the only exceptions being stops for gas and an occasional restroom break.

I cracked my neck as I listened to my music blaring through the speakers, bobbing my head to the beat as I passed a large, brown sign that said...in bold, "Welcome To Hurricane". Grinning from ear to ear, I eagerly, and not-so-lightly, stepped on the gas as I floored past.

    I was sick of driving, and rightfully so. I had been driving for nineteen hours and my tailbone was to the point of being numb to the touch. But, I continued the drive for another thirty minutes before I pulled into an older but polite-looking apartment complex. I examined it out my window and my excitement came right back.

   This is where I would be living officially for the first time by myself. Even in college, I still lived at home so this was a brand-new experience.

The complex was a nice and humble cream color. The brick walls made it take on more of a vintage look and the mahogany rafters added to the unique and eclectic feel.

  Along with the niceness of the place, I expected to pay a pretty penny for it, but surprisingly, for as small the town is, rent in these complexes isn't that high. Unless I'm some blubbering tourist in the gift shops downtown so I didn't need to worry about breaking my bank account.

  Overall, it seemed like a good place to stay! I was near society with things like restaurants and shopping, but just 10 miles out, I would be surrounded by a state park.

Without another thought, I pulled myself out of the car and took a long deep breath. The air was dry and the early summer sun enveloped my body with a comforting warmth. A warmth that spread throughout my body and made my eyes feel heavy like they were coming from a blanket fresh from the dryer.

Texas sure didn't feel like this...

"God. That was too long. Way too long to be in a damn vehicle..." I muttered to myself popping my back as I slammed the door of my car shut.

    I went to the main building of the complex and got the key to my apartment. I was happy and relieved to hear that I lived on the first floor, instead of trying to haul my belongings upstairs that I was sure to fall and die on.

I made my way to the building I was going to be staying in and got to the front door.

Standing there for a moment, this newfound anxiety washed over my body like a tidal wave. Sighing, I shook off the feeling and turned the key. It unlocked non-surprisingly and with concealed excitement, I opened the door.

It was dark. All the lights were off and everything was still.

I turned on the living room light and breathed in the stale, stagnant air of the room.

Looking around, I had my living room, which was just more of a chair and tv spot, and across from that, was my kitchen. It was small, but I didn't need much since it was just me there. I had room for my table and a nook for a small pantry. Moving down the hall, was a door that led to my washer and dryer. But alas; at the end of the hall, was my room.

   It was the largest room in the entire apartment. It was the size of my living room and kitchen combined. In the center of it though, was my bed I hired movers to set it up before I arrived since I had no room for the large piece of furniture in my car.

Along with my bed, my dresser was already placed on the opposite side of the room, and my bedside table sat in the corner waiting to be moved along with four or so boxes.

Now your probably wondering where my bathroom is...

Connected to the right of my bedroom, was a decent-sized bathroom as well. With a normal sink, shower, and toilet, it was nothing special but there was no reason for me to have an extravagant bathroom.

   Once I was done examining my new living quarters, I went back to my car to bring in the rest of my boxes. As I grabbed one, a somewhat large, older woman from her patio called for my attention,

"Now I'd know Id recognize a young pretty face if I'd seen it...yours is new...what brings you?" She asked with a raspy laugh as she took a hit from her cigarette.

Taken aback by the sudden question, and kinda being put on the spot, I set my box down and placed my hand on my hips squinting up at the setting sun,

"Well, ma'am... I guess you could say I'm looking for something... along with time away from things back home, and maybes find answers to some questions I have." I said with a smile.

The woman nodded her head slowly in approval, taking one last final drag from her cigarette before stomping it out. "You got some deep words Ms."

I chuckled at her response and looked down at my feet,

"Ha, well thank you ...it was nice to meet you, ma'am, my name is Y/N the way! If you ever need anything my door is open!" I said genuinely.

A sharp bark of laughter erupted from the woman as she waved me off and shakily stood up from her lawn chair,

"Thanks, sweets. Names Pat, and same to you." She said as she hobbled back inside without another word or a glance back.

With a sigh of, 'I guess that's my new normal', I picked up my box and brought it inside.

    Once I was done unloading, I began to move around my furniture and set up my bed.

   As I finished, I laid flat on my back like a starfish with all my empty boxes sprawled out around me beginning to feel the tiredness in my body.

I picked up my phone lazily and looked at the time. It was 12:42 am. Closing my eyes I let out a groan of exhaustion. I was so caught up in unpacking, I had lost track of time. I had been up for almost 24 hours at this point and hadn't eaten in 14 of those hours. So grabbing some clothes, and putting them on my bathroom counter, I jumped in the shower and washed off all the sweat and grime from the long day's work.

    Once I was done, I brushed my teeth and jumped into bed forgetting about my underlying hunger.

At this point, I was too tired to care.

No.

I was utterly exhausted...

and the best feeling was to lay in my freshly made bed, in my new apartment, in Utah.

Yep. It was a drastic change but... I was okay with that.

I was ready.

As I lay there, my eyes grew heavier and heavier and the only thing I could think about before losing consciousness was,

'I was here. I was in Hurricane.'

I really hope you enjoyed! I’ll be posting pt. 2 soon!

#fnaf fandom #fnaf #william afton #fnaf security breach #Spotify

[kimmyiewrites]

Leave a Light On | Chpt 1

Masterlist      AO3

Summary:  Evelyn Jones' mother always warned her about falling in love with the hero types. So, she fell in love with a lawyer instead.

AN: I didn't choose the Daredevil life, it definitely chose me. After Matt Murdock showed up on my screen once again I fell down the rabbit hole of rewatching the series and honestly this hot mess of a human being stole my whole heart so here this is. I hope you enjoy as much as I've enjoyed writing it. (Also look at me not making y’all wait too long after my teasing lol)

She really didn’t have to bribe her boss to let her come in a little later but bagels and coffee never hurt. While her best friends had been office hunting, she had been stuck at work. So when Shirley let her come in at 9 instead of 8 she jumped at the chance to finally check out the office the two had landed on. They had been in it for a couple of weeks now and they had been complaining about how she hadn’t stopped by yet.

She had seen it over the weekend once and while they didn’t have a whole lot of clients, they still teased her about never coming to visit during work hours. Especially after they hired Karen Page. So when things seemed to settle for a little bit at Metro-General, Evelyn talked her boss into letting her come in a little later than usual so she could get them off her back.

Evelyn Jones had been best friends with Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson since their freshman year of college. She, like the boys, grew up in Hell’s Kitchen and dreamed of giving back to the community. So the fact that they finally had their own brick and mortar building made her quite excited for them. On top of that, they hired their first employee. She couldn’t wait to meet her either, especially since she had quite the story of how she wound up working for Nelson and Murdock.

Just past the hardware store, Evelyn pulled the door that lay between the red pillars open. She was nothing but smiles as climbed the stairs. She was absolutely thrilled for her best friends and to see their dreams come true. Chuckling softly to herself at the paper sign taped to the door, she made the mental note to reach out to one of her contacts from her marketing side gig to see if she couldn’t get them a better sign.

“Well, look who it is.” Foggy smiled as Evelyn walked through the door. She easily returned his grin before he pulled her in for his infamous bear hug.

“Yeah, the boss let me come in a little late today as long as I bring breakfast.” She said as she pulled back. “I had to finally see the new digs in daylight and meet Miss Page.” She waved over to Karen as she turned to be more open to the room.

“It’s not much to look at, or so I’m told.” Matt quipped, leaning in the doorway to his office, a smirk on his features.

Evelyn shook her head with an amused smile as she went to go hug her other best friend. “Hi, Matty.” She whispered with a touch of exasperation in her voice.

“Hi, Evie.” He replied with full-blown smugness as he gave her a small squeeze. “Still questioning our friendship?” He continued to tease in the hopes of trying to cover up his wince from where the cut on his side had opened back up.

Pulling back, she cupped both sides of his face, a large grin stretched across her features as she scanned his. Something was up and she’d figure it out eventually. “Everyday.” She answered with a laugh before letting go and taking in the office space fully.

“It is rather quaint.” She said before turning to finally face the woman she had heard so much about.

“Oh c’mon, Eve. Quaint?” Foggy asked with a slight roll of his eyes while she introduced herself to Karen.

Nodding, she continued talking to Karen and apologized for any future shenanigans her friends pulled her into. “But I promise you’re in good hands. I trust these two to the ends of the earth. However,” she grabbed a pen and wrote her number down on a sticky note, “if you ever need me to get them in line, call me.” She handed the yellow square over to Karen.

“I do need to get going though. I wish I could stay longer but I have to pick up bagels.” She said as she made her rounds again, telling her friends goodbye. “Promise I’ll try to stop by again for a longer visit.” She said as she pulled away from Matt. Before she could leave his side, however, he took hold of her wrist.

“Before you go, could you take a look at Foggy’s decorating and make sure he didn’t get me anything ridiculous?”

There it was. Time to find out why he was wincing. “Yeah, of course.”

He smiled gratefully as he turned to lead her inside his office. Once they were both inside, he shut the door. He wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to take this news, especially since he needed her to help him patch up where he had torn the stitches but it wasn’t like he could go to Claire right now.

As soon as the door shut, Karen turned to look at Foggy, who was heading back into his office after rolling his eyes at his friends. “Are they more than friends?” Karen asked, figuring that maybe they kept things under wraps so that Foggy wouldn’t feel like a third wheel. But they seemed awfully close, even more so than Evelyn and Foggy.

He laughed. “You just met her and you’re already asking that?” He leaned against her desk, ready to give her a glimpse at the history that was Matt and Evelyn. “There’s always been something more between those two but there’s never been the right timing so I’ve had to deal with that for years.”

Karen nodded, glancing back to the door where the light was now on. “So what are they talking about, you think?”

“I’m hoping he’s finally telling her how he feels. She’s seeing this guy but neither Matt nor I like him. But in reality, he’s probably just checking in to make sure that she’s okay. It’s been a couple days since we’ve seen her in person. She stays busy and well, we’ve been setting up a new firm so it doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for us to hang out like we usually do.”

“You three seem really close.” She said with a smile. It was nice to see and she was grateful they all easily seemed to have adopted her into their group. She really didn’t have anyone after moving to New York. She thought she’d be fine with it but after meeting Foggy, Matt, and now Evelyn, she couldn’t have asked for nicer people to consider friends.

“Yeah, we are. But we’re always happy to bring in more friends to our crazy.” Foggy smiled as he went back into his office.

Behind the closed door, Matt finally let Evelyn see how much pain he was in. She flicked on the light before hurrying over to help him sit down. He took off his suit jacket revealing the bloodstain blooming at his side. He had walked too quickly trying to keep up with the mysterious man who had just hired him and Foggy to represent a man named Healy.

“What the hell happened to you?!” Eve whispered. She knew he had a rough night a couple of days ago but he hadn’t told her just how rough. This was the worst she had ever seen him.

“You’re not going to like my answer. First aid kit is in the bottom drawer, by the way.”

With a sigh, she crouched down and pulled out the kit that he reassured would be there. Setting it on the desk, she laid out the supplies she would need and put on a pair of gloves. “Are you going to tell me now or should I expect a visit from you later tonight?” She asked as she crouched back down.

“Can I come over later? What time do you get off work?”

“Six.” She answered as she peeled back his shirt, moving quickly with some gauze to stop the bleeding.

“I’ll bring dinner.”

She looked up at him, worry etched across her features. “It’s that kind of story, huh?”

“Russians like their knives.”

“Shit, Matty.” She huffed out as she began to clean his wound before she stitched him back up. “How did you even reopen this? It looks professionally done.”

“Followed a guy a little too quickly.”

She shook her head, focusing on the stitches. “Did you at least get what you were looking for?”

“No. Just that he got into a car and several pulled away at once.”

“Well, that’s a little anticlimactic.” She set the tools aside and placed gauze over the wound, taping it to him to keep it in place. “What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up?”

“You know I used to patch up my dad right?”

“Yes and that’s how you taught me because the first time you asked me to patch you up I had just started at the hospital and now it’s like you expect me to know what I’m doing.”

“I expect you to know what you’re doing because I taught you how.” He huffed out a laugh.

“If you pop your fresh stitches because you’re teasing me, I’ll be even more upset.” She gave him a pointed glare, even though she knew he couldn’t see it but she was fairly certain he could always feel it when she threw them his way. He always had a slight grimace on his face when it appeared. “Do you have a clean shirt?”

“Yeah, in the garment bag on the back of the door.”

After cleaning up, Eve brought the clean shirt over and helped him into it. “Take it easy for the next few days, please. I’m only in the admin side of healthcare and there is a reason for that. If you injure yourself any worse you’re going to have to go to the actual hospital.”

He took her hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you, Eve.”

She rolled her eyes and kissed his forehead. “Just be careful, please. Now I’ve really got to go. I'll call and check in later, okay?”

He nodded, letting her go. “Yeah, okay. See you later.”

⠙⠙

Evelyn had barely gotten changed into something more comfortable when a knock sounded throughout her apartment. Moments later, Matt walked through the door, holding a take-out bag from her favorite Italian restaurant. “Eve?” He called out as he made his way towards her kitchen.

“Be out in a minute!” She replied as she tossed her work clothes in her hamper. She pulled out the hairband that kept her hair up in the messy bun she threw it up in about midway through her shift. She needed the extra moment to prepare herself for whatever he was about to tell her. How bad the story was depended on what meal he had gotten for her. “So what did you get for me?” She asked as she made her way out of her bedroom.

He tightened his grip around the chair momentarily before he pulled it back for her to sit. They had somehow managed to create a system based on the food they ordered. Chicken parmesan, they were celebrating. Ravioli was just catching up, a regular dinner out. Tortellini meant bad news. “Why don’t you sit down first?” He said, easing his grip as he turned towards her with his best reassuring smile.

That was all the answer she needed. “You got tortellini didn’t you?” She asked as she sat down, opening up the tin to reveal what she already knew. She let out a heavy sigh as she waited for him to sit down.

Moving his chair closer, he angled his body towards her and reached for her hand. She didn’t give it to him but he kept it out for her to take at any time. Instead, she twirled her fork around for a few moments before stabbing at the cheese-filled pasta. “Who patched you up?” She asked after they both had taken a bite of their food.

“A nurse.”

“Do I know them?” She arched a brow towards him, taking another bite.

“She didn’t say where she worked.”

“And where did she find you?”

“In a dumpster.” He said around his next mouthful.

“In a?!” She gripped her fork and looked up towards the ceiling letting out a rush of air. “What would have happened if she hadn’t found you?”

“I’m not sure.” He said but he knew exactly what would have happened. He would have broken the promise he made to her when she found out about his after-hours activities. He knew she came to the same conclusion when she dropped her fork on the table.

She sighed, covering her face with her hands. He reached out, dragging a hand away from her face. She watched as he played with her fingers momentarily before intertwining them. Holding her hand in his as she processed the details he hadn’t told her before. Ever so quietly, he finally spoke up. “Still questioning our friendship?”

Evelyn leaned back in her seat with a small, exasperated huff. “Every fucking day.”

He let out a relieved sigh as he chuckled, smiling at her answer. He really thought he had lost her there for a moment. He had nearly broken his promise to her, his promise to come home. She had gone quiet and he couldn’t quite make out what she was feeling. Which is why he asked his question and why her answer meant a great deal to him.

They finished eating in companionable silence. Once they were done, Evelyn cleaned up, ready to truly settle in for the night. She had some shows to catch up on and she needed to figure out a restaurant to go to later in the week. She and Will were going out after work in a couple of days and it was her turn to pick where they went. Although walking around and seeing where it took them sounded fun too. If only Will was as adventurous.

“Do you want to come over? Have a drink?” Matt asked her, leaning against the counter.

“I’m gonna pass tonight. My couch hasn’t seen me in a while. I need to let it know that I’m not neglecting it.” She joked. “You’re more than welcome to stay. I think I have something around here.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to take away time from your couch.”

Evelyn soon wrapped him in a hug, holding him to her tightly. She needed to feel that he was actually there with her and he was more than happy to oblige. He easily returned the embrace, arms winding around her waist. “Thank you for dinner.” She wound up saying instead of the multitude of other things she wanted to say. Half of them she couldn’t because she was in a relationship.

“Next time it won’t be tortellini.”

She chuckled. “It was still good despite the news that came with it.”

“I’m going to be more careful.”

“Yeah, you better.” She gave him a small squeeze before pulling back. “Be careful going home. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Evie.”

“Night, Matty.” She softly smiled before walking him to the door.

#daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #leave a light on #kim writes things #matt x eve

[authorbashields]

#IFTTT #Author B. A. Shields Official Website

[dabisqueen]

Initiation

Toya x Reader x Tenko

⇢ rating: 18+

⇢ word count: roughly 7.2K

⇢ plot: Toya and Tenko are the most annoying guys on campus - but also the hottest. Even though you do everything to stay out of their way, your paths keep crossing

⇢ warnings: 18+, College AU, no quirks, all characters aged up, force, mentions of smoking, drug use, drinking, kissing, fingering, vaginal sex, orgasm, cream pie, cum, threesome, anal sex, squirting

⇢ NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!

personal note: god I am in love with this artwork. and with my all-time favorite bar. wanted to write a piece with quirkless toya and tenko, how it would have been with them in an alternate reality. turned out to be longer than planned.

Special thanks to:

@white-decay for letting me use her magnificent artwork for my header

@scruffymctee for always being there for me when I need some fucked up inspiration - and for the title names

@shig-a-shig-ah for always putting up with my shit, day and night

________________________________

A month into the semester, I wandered down the streets in search of a place to grab a drink. I had purposely avoided the main bars where all the jocks and popular girls would sit. A small, run-down brick building caught my attention, a sign on it reading "Washington Bar." Half the letters were unlit, one even threatening to fall onto the bypassers below at any second.

As I entered through the wooden chipped entry door, the typical raucous bar smell hit my nostrils – damp cigarette smoke, spilled old beer on the floor, the plasticky aroma of a vinyl cushion - and too much sweat. It was dark and dingy, a small bar set in the middle, surrounded by ragged velvet booths with tables in the middle. The window glasses were yellowed from years of cigarette abuse and framed by faded velvety red curtains. There was a small dancefloor off to the side, a huge poster of Johnny Cash's famous middle finger adorning the wall.

Approaching the bar, I sat down on one of the spindly looking, lop-sided barstools, letting my gaze roam over the array of liquor on the shelves. The bartender, a young handsome man, came over, leaned on to the counter, and asked what I'd like to drink. After I placed my order he nodded appreciatively and went to work.

The music was good, they played mostly rock and mashups and for the first time since starting the semester, with the first tests and assignments behind me, I felt at ease.

The bartender handed me my drink and I swept the little drops of condensation running down the glass with my thumb, tipping the liquid from side to side, watching the ice cubes jingle around.

The place slowly filled, still not crowded but enough to fill the place with low murmurs and chatters.

As I continued sipping my drink, I looked around the room over the rim of my glass. One of the guys sitting in a booth at the far corner caught my immediate attention. His hair was the color of pure snow, standing messy and hanging low over his eyes. He lounged lazily against the back of a booth, arms resting on the backrest. He was slender, tall, and good-looking.

Next to him sat another young man, raven tufts hanging lazily into his face. The way he was hunched over, a dim light illuminating his head from below had me assume he was staring at his handheld.

As my gaze turned to the other guy, our eyes met. I almost choked, as the corners of his lips curled up into a smirk. I turned back towards the bar, my cheeks ablaze, my heart racing. Trying to shrug off the feeling of his eyes lingering on me, I took another sip of my drink to calm my rattled nerves.

The evening went on and as I was on my second drink, I suddenly felt something brush my cheeks, an arm hook around my shoulder and a warm body lean against my back. Tufts of white hair tickled my face and I turned my head to be met by a mesmerizing smile and stunning turquoise eyes on a handsome face.

"Hi doll," his voice sinfully low and raspy, a devilish twinkle in his eyes.

His hand grabbed my wrist and with a squeak of protest, I was pulled off the stool, managing to grab my purse as he dragged me off. The place had filled up, and my drink spilled over my hand as we wound our way through the bodies. Stopping in front of the booth, he gently tugged me onto the cushion seat, flopping down next to me. I had to scoot sideways and bumped into someone to the left. I looked up to be met by crimson red eyes, almost glowing in the dark, framed by black disheveled hair of varying lengths. His facial features were delicate, almost feminine – a straight slender nose, strong jawline, and slim yet uneven lips, a black beauty mark underneath his chin.

An arm dropped on my shoulder and I was involuntarily nudged against the first guy's chest. He smelled good, of warm musk, fresh linen, and a hint of cigarette smoke. Black nail polish and silver rings adorned his strong dexterous fingers. He had several earrings on each ear and three little piercing studs in his nose. On each of his arms, he wore multiple silver and leather bracelets. I tilted my head up to meet his gaze and his lips curled up into a smile.

"Toya," he introduced himself, "and that over there is Tenko." his slender finger pointed towards the dark-haired guy. The latter nodded curtly, continuing to stare at me.

"Why did you drag me off? I was just fine over at the bar!“ I pouted.

“Wanted to get to know you,“ he snickered, eyes seductively half-lidded, a lazy smile on his face.

My phone vibrated in my purse and I grabbed it, my thumb swiping up to unlock it. Ari and Naoko had written, asking me where I was. Before I could reply though, Toya’s ring studded hand snagged it out of my grip and held it high above his head out of reach.

"Give it back!" I yelled while he kept blocking me with his body, chuckling boyishly as I was trying to snatch it back.

"Nuh-uh, it's not polite to text while in company," his fingers flew relentlessly across the screen. He only stopped after his phone went off in his pants. Tenko next to us snickered in amusement about our little bantering and Toya finally handed my cell phone back.

"Seriously?" I rolled my eyes at him as I saw his and Tenko’s number in my contacts and a message to himself, but he answered with a smug grin on his face. "Admit it, you wanted it," chuckling, pinching my cheek.

"Oh for god's sake..." I protested and stood up, as he kept laughing lowly, "Let me out," I demanded.

"Suit yourself" and he leaned back, arms crossed behind his head, his biceps flexing. He didn't budge and I huffed, lifting my leg atop his', shifting my weight to crawl over him only to lose balance and tip. My hands found his chest, steadying myself and when I gazed up, I stared right into his piercing blue eyes. His jaw was set, lips curved upwards into a smirk.

"That eager, huh?" He cocked his eyebrow, his nose almost brushing against mine.

Rolling my eyes I slid off him and wound my way to the exit, not looking back. I fumed internally the entire way back, imagining what I would have felt like swatting him or at least poking his oh so beautiful eyes out. I snorted in frustration, thinking to myself that he was dangerous and I should keep my hands off him.

Weeks passed after that evening. Toya being most definitely a playboy was constantly on my mind and I avoided getting involved with him any further. Yet, I couldn't help the feeling of being drawn in by him, his charisma, confidence– and cockiness.

Whenever we met or saw each other on campus, he’d throw me a smug grin, not averting his eyes from me. In return, I shot him a withering glare, trying to remind - no- to convince myself that I found him only annoying.

As the semester went on, I made new friends. Especially the guy from across my room, Kai, who helped me move into my dorm. We shared a few classes and had been studying together ever since. With time passing I noticed little signs of affection, his hand on my shoulder when leaning in too close while explaining something to me. Or brushing his hand over mine when he suggested edits to my notes. Even though I liked him, I never returned his affection, I just wasn't into any sort of relationship at this point.

The sun had shown its beautiful side on this spring morning as all of us hung out in the courtyard between lectures. There was constant chatting around me, my friends calling back and forth to each other, and Kai stood next to me, our shoulders almost brushing. His eyes never averted me, as he leaned in to whisper something into my ear. A light breeze picked up and blew some hair into my face. He lifted his hand to tug a loose strand behind my ear and I blushed at the intimacy of the situation.

Suddenly a group of young men closed in on us, let by Toya. He cocked a smirk as he approached me.

“There you are, doll” as I felt an arm drop on my shoulder, cold metal bracelets softly scraping the skin on my neck.

Kai took a step back and frowned, his face wearing a disgruntled expression, eyes darting between me and Toya. All my friends had gone quiet, frozen dead in their tracks.

"Toya, let go of me!" I gritted, trying to wiggle out from under his arm but he pressed me even tighter against him.

Seeing that I would not be let go soon I looked at Kai, "Uhm... Kai, this is Toya. Toya, this is Kai." I nudged my head towards my captor, my smile apologetic, but Kai's was forced as he held up his hand for a shake.

"Nice to meet you–" he pressed out between clenched teeth.

Toya nonchalantly ignored Kai and purred into my ear, "Missed you, doll," a mischievous glint in his eyes, the corners of his lips twitched suspiciously, for we both knew he was putting up a show.

I swapped his chest, my scorching glare and my plea to let me go being completely ignored. The irritation growing on Kai's face increased by the second, the tension starting to simmer. But Toya wasn't even remotely fazed, rather amused by his reaction.

"So, how about you visiting me tonight?" Toya pecked a kiss on my cheek. I almost lost my cool but then he let go of me, a wide grin on his face, eyes glinting with mischief. I inhaled deeply, trying to keep the irritation in my chest at bay. He blew me a kiss and strutted off to Tenko and the others waiting for him, hands lazily stuffed in his pockets.

Instantly, chatter erupted around me like a volcano. Suddenly being at the center of attention of our small group, the girls huddled around me, blurting out as if out of one mouth "You know Toya? “

"We met once," I shrugged, resisting the urge to scoff.

"Ohmygod, you are so lucky! He's so fucking hot! He's the hottest guy on campus!“ The girls were all giggles now, eyes gleaming with excitement.

"More like the most annoying," I growled. Peeking up I could still see them, the group of tall, handsome men chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Of course, he's hot. And of course, I had thought about how it would be to see more than just those bright blue eyes, to feel more than just his hands on my body.

"You are so lucky!" Ai pinched my cheeks, Naoko nudged my shoulder.

"Nah, don't think so…". I rolled my eyes, "What kind of show was that anyways?"

"He's jealous!" They winked and giggled behind their hands.

Kai had been quiet, looking after Toya, his eyes like slithers, darkening by the second.

"I am sorry, Kai," I apologized, "I- I am not meeting him tonight. Or at all.” I shook my head, “Whatever…" this was embarrassing.

He just nodded coldly, "It's alright, we'll talk another time, ok?" And with that, he turned and walked off.

“Kai–” my hand rose to hold him back but he was already out of reach and I couldn't hide my disappointment.

"Ok girls, need to go, it's late. See ya, kiss kiss," our hugs hasty as we placed quick pecks on each other’s cheeks.

That evening Kai surprisingly asked me to accompany him to a fraternity party that weekend. Wanting to make it up to him, I more than gladly agreed.

The party was huge. The entire fraternity house was packed to the brim. Kai just returned from the bar and handed me my second drink.

"Thank you, Kai," I beamed at him and our eyes met. He stroked my cheek, leaning in to whisper into my ear "I'm glad you are here with me."

I felt good, the alcohol giving me a sense of euphoria and I sipped the clear sweet liquid, burning down my throat. Seemingly endless amounts of bodies swayed in front of us, rubbing against each other. I could literally feel the sexual tension. Little beads of sweat started to form on my forehead and I wiped them off with the back of my hand, taking another sip from the glass. As I moved my feet to change my stance I swayed a bit. The drink packed quite the punch I thought, but then dizziness slowly flooded my brain.

Kai leaned in as he noticed my uneasiness, an unreadable expression on his face, "Hey princess, you alright there? "

"Uhm, yeah, think I need to lay down a sec. Drank too much–“ I mumbled and started pushing past him.

"Here lemme help," he said, wrapping an arm around me. He held me tight to his body, guiding me down the hallway, leaving the people and noises behind us. The further we went, the more I felt like walking on cotton.

Kai opened a door to a dim room and he laid me on a soft cushiony couch. Everything was spinning and I closed my eyes to find some relief. I barely noticed my wrists being pinned above my head, as a hand slid underneath my shirt and started groping my breast.

My eyes darted open and I bucked underneath him, trying to get him off me. Kai pushed himself down on me, his growing bulge pressing into my thigh as he growled into my ear "Relax, don't make this harder on you than it is."

I tried calling for help but his tongue darted into my mouth the second I parted my lips, suffocating every word that came out. I groaned as he bit into my lip, gripping my breast so hard it bruised. Caged in by his weight, I was not able to move an inch.

"Lemmego–“ I slurred, tears starting to pool in my eyes. He leaned in close, hissing into my ear, "Gonna fucking show that prick Toya who you belong to" as he lifted his hips, starting to unbuckle his belt.

My hands found his chest, my feeble attempts to push him off me were met with low laughter. My head still hazy, I gathered my remaining strength together and lashed out, boxing his groin with all my might.

He wailed out, tipping sideways, face contorted with anger and pain, and I managed to scramble out below him, falling to the floor, and tumbled towards the door.

I somehow found the strength to rip it open and swayed down the hallway.

I heard Kai swearing, taking up the pursuit but his limp slowed him down. I pressed through the sweaty bodies, my mind spinning, tripping, gasping for air as I felt like drowning, turning towards the front door.

I stumbled outside and staggered down the street, picking up the pace until my lungs and legs burned like a thousand fires and each breath was like needles down my throat.

Dizzy and exhausted, I stumbled to a halt and leaned against a wall, my legs giving in and I sagged to the floor. I stuffed my hand into my purse, fumbling for my phone, hysterically trying to sniff away the tears falling from my eyes.

I managed to dial Ai's number. It rang seemingly endless but no one picked up. I tried my other friends. Nothing.

My vision started darkening and panic took over, my heart raced as I found Toya's number. I hit the dial button, the ringing echoing in my head like a jackhammer. I groaned, and closed my eyes. Through the rushing of the blood in my ears, I heard a raspy voice, distant and blurred.

"Hey doll, what's up."

"Toya-" I slurred, feeling the world tilt around me.

"Hey, you ok?" His voice suddenly spiked with concern.

I sobbed, slowly sliding sideways, not being able to keep myself upright anymore, "No... Please–"

"Ok, tell me where you are," His voice low and stern, as I didn't respond immediately, he yelled, "Doll, hey– fuck– gimme something!"

My eyes roamed around, trying to pinpoint some signposts for him. And then I saw it. With my last conscious breath, I was able to mumble a street name before my cheek kissed the cold ground, the phone tumbled from my hand and darkness engulfed me.

I don't recall how long I was out. There were blurs of bright light, someone calling my name. Being lifted up, warmth engulfing me, something stroking my face. As I was coming to, I was nestled into Tenko’s arm on the back seat of a car, Toya behind the steering wheel.

Tenko asked, seeing I was conscious again, “Babe, what happened?"

I was able to describe the occurrences with a few jumbled words and with every one of them Toya became more feral.

Even in the dark of the night, I could see that his face spoke murder, I had never seen him that pissed. His eyes were narrow like slithers, lips pressed into tight thin lines. His jaw muscles kept twitching as he yanked the car around, driving down the road, coming to a screeching halt in front of the fraternity.

His head jerked around, his fiery eyes met those of his friend "Tenko, stay here with her. I'll be back in a sec.“

With that, he ripped the door open and jumped out of the car. All heads turned as he stormed towards the entrance, his face volcanic, flaming fury in his eyes as his voice erupted over the sound of the music. "Kai! You better fucking hide because I am coming to get ya!"

Then he disappeared in the masses. Tenko kept stroking my hair, kissing the top of my head as I nuzzled into his chest, taking in his comforting scent of damp linen and warm skin.

After a while, Toya returned, rubbing the bruised knuckles of his right hand, while he approached the car. As he sat down behind the wheel he calmly said "Kai's never going to bother you again." And with that he revved the engine, tires spinning, driving off.

It wasn't a long drive, but I fell asleep in Tenkos embrace. When I shortly regained consciousness I laid on the couch, head nestled into Toya’s lap, legs on Tenko's. They had draped a blanket over me, the feeling of warmth and comfort engulfing me. Exhaustion took over again, I closed my eyes, my mind soothed by warm hands gently stroking me and I fell asleep again.

The first thing I felt when I awoke was a slicing pain through my head and the thirst of a thousand days in the desert. I gasped for air, opening my eyes and closing them again, moaning in pain at the sudden painful intrusion of the brightness.

“Easy there doll,” I heard a familiar voice softly call out. Another moan escaped as I turned towards the source of the voice, feeling soft sheets hug my aching body.

“How're you feeling,” Toya leaned over me, stroking my cheek.

“Likeshit-,” I mumbled, feeling pelt on my tongue.

He chuckled, “That's the spirit.”

A sob erupted in my chest as the memories from last night came crashing in on me and Toya wiped them off with his thumb.

“I don't want to go back, I am afraid,” all the tension fell off me as the tears ran freely down my cheeks now.

His curled fingers gently nudged my chin up so our gazes met, “How about you stay with us until you find somewhere else."

Tenko lounged in the back, legs lazily spread apart, “What he's trying to say is that we need someone to cook for us." Getting sick of the shit takeout Toya's been bringing home.”

The latter threw a pillow at him, and they both laughed out loud.

"Uhm, ok I guess. If you really don't mind–" I sniffed.

"Naah–" Toya replied and Tenko winked at me, "As long as the food's good."

That evening, they helped me retrieve some things from my dorm. We gathered it in boxes and bags and stuffed it into Toya’s car. It wasn’t much, so we were able to get it all in one move.

As Toya was driving back I raised my gaze to meet Tenko's, "Won't Toya get into trouble for what he did to Kai?"

"Nuh-uh, his dad’s Enji Todoroki. He'll even get away with murder," a hoarse chuckle rumbled through his chest.

"The Enji Todoroki?" I stared in disbelief.

"Yeah, wait-" his eyebrows raised, "You didn't know?"

"Why would I, he never said a thing."

"Dummy," Tenko chuckled, stubbed my nose and I screwed up my face in mock disapproval.

That night, I slept really well. Toya let me have his bed and he took the couch. It felt so comforting, the smell of him in the sheets surrounding me, the knowledge of being safe with both of them.

The week started and I went to classes as usual. During the lecture, I spotted Kai sitting at the opposite end of the hall. Even from this far away I could make out his black eye as well as several cuts on his face. He looked miserable. Served him right, I thought.

It was the first week living with both men. Toya had been sleeping on the couch while I had access to his room. It was dark outside, soft music filled the air as we lounged on the couch, eating the food I had cooked.

When we finished clearing away the dishes we sat down again and Toya handed each one a glass of whiskey.

Watching some gory horror flick that Tenko had chosen, sipping on our drinks, I turned towards him, "Tenko, this is gross! Can't we watch something else?"

“That dude’s gross, what do you expect?” Toya chuckled and earned himself a punch in the shoulder from his friend.

I rolled my eyes, being stuck in between them, and sighed, throwing my back against the couch, “Can't you two self-proclaimed God's come up with something else to annoy me with?”

Both men went silent as they locked gazes, a smirk starting to form on their faces.

Tenko leaned in, purring into my ear “I could think of something-” as I felt his hand slowly descend on my leg. Toya's started rubbing slow circles into my other thigh.

“Guys-?” I glanced at them, both grinning boyishly, “Are you serious?”

"Tenko, how serious are we?” Toya looked up and I gasped for air, each roll of their hands had them move up a bit further. The double stimulation had my mind somersault, my heartbeat increase, as a familiar heat started to kindle between my legs.

“We are more than serious,” Tenko's lips grazed my ear, making my whole brain short circuit as I sucked in a quick little breath.

Toya snaked his arm behind my neck as he inched closer, breathing into my ear, " Question is, are you serious?"

He tilted his head, his mesmerizing blue eyes burned with unbridled desire as he angled his mouth above mine. I could feel the heat radiating off him and our lips met with surprising gentleness. He was soft, warm, and oh my God he was a good kisser. It was like electricity zipping through my body, making me gasp into his kiss. Every hair of my body stood up, goosebumps erupting all over my skin. Closing my eyes I moaned into the kiss, and he let out a low rumbling sound from his chest. His tongue grazed mine, twirling around, exploring the insides of my mouth. I tangled my fingers into his hair, tugging on it to pull him closer.

I was floating on air, tingles shooting from my head to my toes and all I could think about was wanting him - all the way. The kiss became rougher, blooming lust had his teeth clacking against mine. He squeezed my thigh as he tangled his tongue with mine once more until he eventually pulled back.

He dipped in one last time to bite my bottom lip and my squeal had him chuckle lowly. A faint smile crept across his face, making him look so perfect. I stared at him, our breaths hot on each other’s wet lips, the heat of his hands on my body, the way his eyes, half-lidded, pupils lust-blown, looked at me, made me slowly lose my mind.

As I heard a rustle next to me I slowly turned my head towards Tenko and there was no hesitation from his side. The moment our eyes met he crashed his lips on mine with an urgency unsurpassed. His hot firm lips pressed tightly against mine, his tongue slid in and kept swirling around my mouth, while he cupped my cheek with one of his warm palms. Butterflies exploded in my stomach and I melted right into him, intensifying our kiss as he pressed me back into the couch.

Our interaction grew more passionate, longing until my lips were rubbed raw and swollen. He sank against my body and I slowly slid my hands under his shirt, feeling his hot skin, having him groan into my mouth. Tenko pulled away, his mouth parted, pupils blown so wide I could barely see the vibrant crimson red of his irises.

Suddenly I felt being hoisted up as Toya threw me over his shoulder and stood up.

“What the fuck, Toya!” I yelled, futilely hitting his back, while he kept walking. "Let me-”

"No can do,'' he chuckled, a smug grin on his face as he slapped my butt.

“You're such an imbecile,” I winced as we entered his bedroom.

“Just for you, doll," He chuckled and turned around, yelling at Tenko “You coming or what?”

While Tenko strolled over, Toya threw me on the bed and lunged right on top of me. His hands were all over me while we exchanged open-mouthed kisses.

Tenko kneeled next to me, stroking my breasts through my shirt.

"You taste so good,'' Toya breathed into my mouth, "I want you so badly." He groaned unabashedly, as I caught his tongue with my lips and started sucking on it, running up and down its length until I released it and he pulled back, a string of silvery saliva connecting us.

Leaning back, he slowly pulled down my pants and underwear and I inhaled sharply at the feeling of cold air hitting my heated core.

I sat up, Tenko behind me, kissing my neck, slipping his hand under my shirt, snapping open the latch of my bra. Trailing his hands to my breasts, his fingertips caught my nipples, rolling them lightly between two fingers. As the nubs puckered and stiffened, he moved on to softly circling my breasts.

Toya kept kissing me, cupping my face with one hand, the other trailed down to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up. I helped them get it off and Tenko slipped the drooping bra off my chest.

“You're beautiful,“ Toya murmured, cupping my breast, running his thumb over my sensitive nub, giving it a little squeeze.

He stood up and pulled his shirt off, revealing his well-sculpted abs. Reaching down and unbuckling his belt, he pulled down his pants and underwear with one swift move. Tenko followed his lead, dropping the clothes carelessly onto the floor next to the bed. A soft gasp escaped my lips at the sight of their cocks, both beautiful, girthy, and long. They twitched with excitement, precum glistening on their tops. I had to swallow down the hot drool flooding my mouth and my core started contracting achingly in anticipation of what was about to follow.

Toya gently helped me on my back, my hair framing my face nestled into the pillow. Each man grabbed one wrist and pinned it above my head. They locked gazes with me as they lowered their heads, slowly descending on my breasts.

I couldn't help but mewl below them, an unfamiliar feeling arising in me, not being used to such double attention. Their tongues darted out, the flat sliding over my skin, drawing little soft whimpers from me. Toya took my hardened nipple into his warm mouth, latching around it, sucking it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Tenko kept mouthing my breast, releasing it with a plop before latching around it again.

When Tenko bit down on my nipple, my mouth fell open, as a heated moan shot up my throat and my eyes rolled back with pleasure. Toya chucked sinfully at my response. They kept kneading my breast, pinching my nipples, letting off throaty grunts as they kept biting, sucking and nibbling on my mounds, setting off fireworks throughout my body.

I arched my back, mewling as they kept sucking relentlessly, building up an unknown heat each time their tongues circled my erect nubs.

Tenko’s hand trailed down my belly between my thighs and he dragged a long finger along my aching slit.

"You’re soaked," he chuckled and bit on my nipple, pulling it up and releasing it with a plop.

“God—” I moaned, a spark shooting down to my core in response. He circled at my entrance, slipping through my slick, sinking inside. A low groan escaped his lips when he felt my wetness drip down past his finger.

Toya’s hand joined his, grazing my clit with every pass. His ringed fingers traced a wicked swirl around my sensitive nub and my legs started to shake.

“Oh fuck,” all inhibitions disappeared as his fingers kept running along my clit and Tenko's slowly pumping in and out of me.

I keened when he inserted a third finger, curling them up to graze that special spongy spot inside. He started fucking his fingers into me in earnest now, as I cried out and tried not to cum right in that moment.

The double sensation of Tenko hitting that special pot, Toya stimulating my sensitive nub soon had me hurling towards my climax, a white heat starting to build inside me.

Toya–, T-Tenko–" I whined.

“Cum for us.” Toya nipped at my lips, kissing me sweetly, sensually and something inside of me snapped.

An earthquake-like tremor ran through my body and Toya groaned low and deep, pressing his mouth against mine, tasting my lust, my desperation as I came undone beneath them. Their hands kept pressing my arms up, gently holding them in place as a loud keen erupting from within, my vision blurring. Tenko let out a choked groan at the way my folds contracted around his fingers with each contraction of my climax. They gently helped me through my high, still moving their fingers, slowly decreasing the pace.

My legs were still shaking and I was panting by the time they stopped, small beads of sweat on my forehead. Toya let go of my hand and stroked some sweaty hair off my forehead, placing gentle kisses along the corner of my lips.

They pulled back, a smug grin stretching across their faces, seeing me fully delirious below them.

Tenko pulled out and held his fingers - covered in my release - up to Toya who took them in his mouth and started sucking them off.

"Oh fuck–" I mumbled, my lust-blown eyes staring at the scene before me, the sight of him sucking off his friends' fingers.

"Taste so sweet," Toya mumbled, licking and sucking each one off individually, smirking at Tenko.

As I tried to catch my breath, Tenko laid down on the sheets in the middle of the bed, head propped up against the headboard.

He lazily started stroking his dick, picking up the precum with his palm, smearing it along his length. His cock was impressive, thick and girthy, the swollen head pink and flushed. I was wondering if I could take him at all but then again–

I looked between both guys and asked "So, how are we going to do this? Who wants first?"

Toya laughed low and cocked his head, seductive eyes half-lidded, as he cooed "We thought more about going at the same time."

My eyes widened as I realized what he just said.

"Oh–" I swallowed, looking at Tenkos throbbing cock "Not sure if this one will fit in the back though–"

Toya closed in on me and cupped my face, "I'll go then," and sensually kissed me on my lips. I stared at his impressive cock, also thick but longer, with prominent veins running along its length and a pretty pink tip, "Not sure," I wiggled a finger in its direction, "if that makes a big difference, to be honest."

Toya looked at me over his shoulder and chuckled, "I'll be careful, doll." And retrieved some lube from his nightstand, "Something he..." he nudged his head towards Tenko, "...can't be."

"Fuck off," Tenko tried kicking him with his foot, but Toya dodged skillfully.

Tenko growled, red eyes gleaming, but then relaxed when he turned towards me, "C'mon over here, babe" and I slowly moved towards him, taking him in hungrily, desperately.

We met in a passionate kiss, while he pulled me to hover over his body. His hands grasped my waist and positioned me above his cock. I braced myself on his shoulders and slowly started to sink down on his tip. A sharp pain tore through my core and I whined against him, feeling him splitting me open.

"S'not gonna fit,'' I pressed out, biting my lips to suppress a wail, relaxing as I tried to open up for him. As Tenko gave a short rut of his hips, sinking even further inside, Toya cussed at the sight of me taking him in. He stroke his hard cock slowly, spreading the lube all over it. With yet another rut of Tenko's hips, he was fully inserted and a deep loud wail escaped my lips as I collapsed against him.

"Told ya he can't be careful," Toya snickered and Tenko pierced him with angry eyes, his lips silently forming the words shut up.

I had gone lax, trying to get used to the exquisite yet painful stretch, feeling his cock twitch inside me with excitement.

"Now, my turn," Toya said and I felt his warm fingers against my puckered hole. My nails dug into Tenkos shoulders as he began to circle his digits around the entrance.

“Fuck, so tight–“ Toya hissed as he dipped his finger inside me to the first knuckle, feeling me squeeze around him as Tenko trailed my neck with kisses, his cock still unruly inside of me. He bit down on my skin to try and distract me from the stretch, stroking my back with his palm, whispering reassuring words into my ear.

Toya slid another lube-covered finger inside me, having me whimper at the stretch, slowly sliding in and out until the resistance started to decrease. I pressed my head into Tenkos neck, as he mumbled doing good and so proud of you babe.

“Are you ready to take both of us, doll?” Toya whispered against my neck.

“Nghhh–” I winced as I braced myself, trying to steady my breathing as I waited for him to line himself up. I felt his hot tip stroke my entrance and then he began to press forward to breach my tightness, Tenko trying to relax my body while he pressed further, inch by inch.

"Oh my god," I choked out.

"I'll go slow, doll," he groaned, unsure of his ability to keep that promise with the way my walls were pulsing around him.

I buried my face deeper into Tenkos neck, a low moan threatening to spill past my parted lips as I grit my teeth together.

“I know you can take it, you’re such a good girl,” he cooed in my ear as I felt Toya push his girth deeper inside me.

"Just a bit- ahh - almost there" Toya huffed and with a final rut, bottomed out inside me as he rested his head against my shoulder to try and calm his own body down. I felt so full, I could hardly breathe. My core started to contract and Toya hissed, feeling my tight walls gripping his cock.

“You okay, babe?” Tenko whispered, pressing a tender kiss against my head as he held me against his chest. I gave the slightest hint of a nod and as if they had waited for it they both started to give slow, shallow thrusts.

“Such a good doll,” Toya growled, slowly easing himself in and out of my tight hole. After a while, I felt myself relax but still whimpered as both men began to pick up the pace, neither of them clinging to a rhythm.

I felt completely delirious, it was like being drunk on the feeling of both men stuffing me as they continued to slam themselves into my holes. With each of Tenko's thrusts, his tip grazed that special spot, hurling me toward another unprecedented high, intensified by Toya's cock rutting in and out of me from behind.

Toya gritted his teeth as he dug his nails into the skin of my hips and I whimpered at the slightly painful sensation as he picked up the pace. An unknown feeling continued to kindle in my body, as Tenko also started frantically slamming his hips into me. Heated moans and groans spilled uncontrollably from our mouths by now, their sounds filling the room, as we all neared our highs together.

Looking down at Tenko I got lost in the sight of his crimson eyes, the way his hair stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat, lips slightly parted. He moved his fingers down to brush against my clit, jolts of electricity sparking through my body as I shook from my impending climax.

“I’m gonna cum–” I couldn’t control my body at this point, the sensation becoming overwhelming as I felt myself clench around both men’s cocks.

“Holy shit–” Tenko let out a low rasp as I arched my back and felt my release wash over me, my core convulsing with a force unbeknown. My eyes rolled back in my head, my mouth opened in a silent scream, only gargled moans erupting from it. My body became slack and I dropped on Tenko’s chest, as the sensation of pressure releasing throbbed between my legs and I felt myself come undone. A clear stream began to seep from my folds all over Tenkos pelvis and abdomen, as he continued rutting his hips with sloshing sounds into me. He let out a rasped "Shit–" as his eyes went wide while both men continued to fuck my quivering body.

Aftershocks continued to travel through my body, the sensation of me clenching around both men had them hurl over the edge.

They both let out a choked groan as they bottomed inside me, coming deep inside my quivering walls, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum into me. After a few more ruts they stuttered to a halt, holding me tight, peppering my neck and shoulders with soft kisses.

I felt both of them slowly going soft inside me, as Tenko smoothed my hair out of my sweaty face, brushing his fingertips along the line of my jaw.

“You have no idea how long we've been waiting to do this,” he panted, cupping my face. Toya pulled out and rolled off to the side, while Tenko tugged me into his arm, resting my head on his warm chest.

After we caught our breaths, he turned his head lazily, pupils still lust blown, "So, Toya, what do you think– is she?"

Toya clicked his tongue and sat up, “You even ask?!” and let out a breathless chuckle.

He leaned forward and over me, giving me a long and deep kiss, his tongue rolling around mine, giving my lower lip a teasing bite as he pulled back, “Doll, you've been officially initiated.”

“I've been what?!” I freed myself of Tenko’s embrace, propping myself up on my elbows, blinking confusedly.

Raking his cerulean eyes over my body, over my face, lingering on my mouth before meeting my gaze once more, he purred ”Yeah, It's a ritual. Everyone living here went through it.”

“What we just did? But- there's only you two living here,“ I frowned.

“That's indeed true,” Toya cocked his head, a smug grin on his face, while Tenko crossed his arm behind his head, a little rosy flush appearing on his cheeks.

And then it hit me. “Oh- oohh…!“ My eyes went wide like saucers as they darted between Tenko and Toya.

"No way," I made a punch-out sound.

Toya chuckled as I jabbed a finger in his chest, "That's admittedly the hottest thing I've ever heard." I giggled, my raw cunt starting to throb at the thought of it, "Next time I'm in, ok?" I pursed my lips in a mock pout.

"For sure," His lips met mine again, "Cause you're ours now, doll.”

“Yeah– ours,” Tenko mumbled lazily as he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me down onto him despite my protests. Toya turned to the side, hitting the switch on the night lamp and darkness engulfed us. The light of the moon shone in through the windows, bedding us in its dim light. Tenko rolled over on his side, and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling up the sheets over us, burying my face into his back, breathing in his scent. Toya's hand found my hair, his face nestled into it, inhaling me, my warmth, as he wrapped his arms around my chest and entangled his legs with mine.

I felt warm, comforted, at home. It didn't take long for our breathing to relax and our heartbeat to become one, smooth and regular. Growing sluggish, sleep finally took mercy on us as we remained in each other’s arms until the next morning.

________________________________

#dabi smut #shigaraki smut #touya smut #tenko smut #touya x me #tenko x me #mha touya #todoroki touya #touya #touya todoroki #dabi is touya #tenko #tenko shimura #mha smut #bnha smut

[sunmoonandeddie]

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n:  This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert

[dxrkdreamer]

Not So Bad

Modern Sukuna x Reader

Working late had been the bane of your existence, only getting worse when a certain man started showing up to your store’s parking lot to light his joints.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+ implied sex, mentions of weed.

(A/N: should I make a part 2? It seems pretty popular

Couldn’t come up with a name for the store so I used Anavrin from ‘YOU’)

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“11:00 pm? Again?” you rubbed the back of your head trying to hide your frustration, the store manager nodded his head, sighing you agreed to stay late at work again since the closer frankly did not want to stay. So now here you are grumbling as you finish sweeping the floor and checking it off your log. You worked at a high end grocery store named Anavrin, a store that swore to sell organic produce and products to the best of quality. You took up a job here in your senior year of high school, planning on working for a few months to save up for college. And yet… 4 years later you’re still here grumbling at the extra hours you had taken. After your second year of working you had a promotion to supervisor… woo hoo!!... but it turned out it was more responsibility than expected. But it paid a little more and you could not argue with that.

‘I should be a little more optimistic, I’m graduating uni this year’ you’d tell yourself anytime you wanted to pull your hair out because of your measly job. You finished turning off the lights and locking the door, sighing as you felt the cold fall air hit your tired face, taking a deep breath of fresh air… wait a second “Who the fuck is smoking weed!” you yelled in a girly voice, as if this day was not long enough. Since you were in charge of a proper closing you marched off towards a tall man leaning against the back of the store, laughing and conversing on his phone. It was a little nostalgic, you remembered your highschool days, sneaking around and smoking pot in strange places. But he was not as young as a teenager, in fact his build made him look older than you.

“Hey! I’m going to ask you to leave, this is a smoke free property” You tried saying sternly gesturing to the sign right above them that read “no smoking” in bold letters. But your short stature compared to the man made you look like a kid waving your arms around attempting a snake dance.

“What on earth is this?” a man with pink hair and face tattoos said “I’m so scared, I should be so ashamed for not reading the sign” he cackled as he pressed the joint to his lips and inhaled again. “My apologies”

He did not look sorry at all.

“Look, I’ve had a long day. I’d like to go home so please go to a proper location or I’ll-” but you’re cut off with the joint stuffed to your pretty lips.

“You’ll what cutie?” he smirked as you stared at him dumbfounded, the joint stuck to your lip as you tried to figure out a reaction. But the man was already on his way towards his motorbike. Of course he had a motorbike. “First one’s always free darling, next time I’ll charge ya” he winked as he put his helmet on and sped off.

“Mother fucker” you swore and banged your head against the brick wall. ‘Never am I staying late again’ you groaned. You walked to your car, but not without tucking the joint safely in your pocket for when you got back home.

---

And that was your first of many nightly encounters with the pink haired man. You were not surprised to see him anymore in the parking lot, either smoking, laughing with friends or just sitting on his bike staring at his phone. You learned his name was Sukuna… you had asked for it during the nth time you threatened to call the cops. You also learned he sold weed to the store manager, so he pretty much had a free pass on smoking here.

“Working late again (name)? My, they must pay you a lot for you to stay here.” he smirked, watching you with grinning eyes. Your annoyance shot up at the mention of your little over minimum wage pay. They definitely were not paying you enough for the store, but giving you a delinquent like this guy… you had written your resignation letter a few times after his nightly visits. You ignored him as you walked to your car, heavy footsteps followed “I brought ya a little something” He grinned handing you a baggy with a cookie “It’s on the house, made ‘em myself”. Eyes narrowed as you tilted your head up to glare at him, but realized you were a lot closer than you expected. You could hear him breathe, feel the heat off his body and smell the spicy cologne he was wearing as you breathed a little too loudly trying to inhale the scent. “Not today darling, that package is for another date” he winked.

Oh my God.

What have you done? Sure he was hot and you didn’t mind the view, but his mouth made up for that. He was like an evil version of a talking cat. Opening his mouth to smite you, prideful like one and given the opportunity would sit on your face if you were lying down. Wait what?

“I’m not interested in you like that!” you squeeked.

He tilts his head to the side, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “Then how are you interested in me?”

“I’m not interested unless you’re a customer, or an employee here or something!” Frustrated, you grabbed the zip loc with the cookie in it “And I’ll be confiscating this!”

“Sure thing, I made it just for you. It's a special recipe”

“I’ll let the cops know!” you yelled getting in your car, throwing the cookie on the passengers side as you sped home for the night.

“So if I was an employee…or something...” he wondered gazing at the stars, his thoughts frenzying around as his mind came up with the most brilliant idea. Cackling loudly “you’ve really outdone yourself this time me.” Laughing as he got on his bike, speeding towards his apartment.

---

“A new employee?” You mused, It was pretty hectic at work recently, one of your employee’s had quit and they finally found a replacement “I wonder what they’re like”. You asked yourself as you prepared a training checklist to go over, making sure to not make it too hard on the new guy- you heard it was his first job after all. “Hello! And welcome to the Anavrin family!” you say smiling with closed eyes, as you open them your mouth went agape. ‘What the….’ had the demon cat from the parking lot shrunk and gotten more youthful?

“Hi, I’m Yuji Itadori. You must be my brother Sukuna’s friend. He said to write your name down as someone who referred me to the job”

Chuckling nervously with the clipboard in hand you checked off the box for introductions “I’m (name) the grocery supervisor, and you would be working under me mostly.” Friends with Sukuna? Cutting your wrists open and watching them bleed sounded like the better option.

As the shift progressed Yuji showed you he was the complete opposite of his older brother. Always finishing his tasks, being kind and sweet. Everyone else loved him too, just on the first day. He was stocking milk and eggs the way you had shown him, one of the last tasks of the night. The crowd of customers thinned out as it got late and the store was closer to its closing time. You watched to make sure he was doing them correctly and if he needed any help. ‘This wasn’t so bad’ you thought, closing your eyes and leaning back.

“So how’s my little brother been (name)?”

Your eyes shot open at that voice God no please. “He’s been amazing, but you can’t just put my name as a referral without asking me-” There stood a tall Sukuna in a dress shirt with his sleeves rolled back, probably coming after finishing his day job. Majority of his tattoos were covered except the lines on his wrists that were exposed, making you gulp inaudibly. Suddenly feeling underdressed in your uniform’s polo shirt and measly work pants and sweater as you stared up at his glory.

“Sorry darling, I can’t do what?” he smirked. Mentally praising himself as his plan got into action. He couldn’t lie, (name) was interesting. Always yelling at him, cursing him and swearing that she would murder him if it was the purge. His usual charm not working gave him more of a challenge. Not to mention the way she was kind to younger brother made his heart swell a little.

The annoyance returned once you saw his shit eating grin “You can’t write my name down without asking me!”

As he opened his mouth to speak, the intercom went off, notifying everyone that the store was now closed and any remaining customers should bring their purchases to the front to pay for them.

“Yuji you can go home now, I’ll put this away and start heading out myself” you say massaging your temples with your fingers.

“See you soon (name).” Sukuna winked as he walked towards the exit, waving behind at you as he went outside to wait for his brother.

---

Unfortunately soon had never come… at least not for the last 3 weeks. Making you miss the tall man in more ways than one. Maybe he wasn't so bad now that you thought about it. The usual nightly teasing might make you seethe but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t laugh about it later in your car. Somehow his laid backness and mocking smile made your night light up a little. And the weed that you would “confiscate” really did help you unwind after a long shift.

“Maybe it was because he saw me in my uniform” you grumbled. That had to be it. You weren’t a sore look on the eyes. Right? But compared to him… you hissed as you felt your lower half heat up and tremble at the thought of the man. “Well it's only 11:00 pm… and my first class is at 9:30 am… and then I have work at the 4:00.” Debating your options…. ‘This is why I’m probably so grumpy all the time, I think too much’

“And probably need to get laid” you said aloud. Living alone did have its perks, no one could call you crazy for talking to yourself. Your friends always nagged you about your dry spell too, but one night stands weren’t really fun to you anymore. They were too shallow and you always found yourself feeling more frustrated by them than relaxed.

Quickly rummaging through your drawer, you found your lovely device and turned it on. The buzz filled the room as you fell on the bed and groaned. Your mind was wild as you thought dirty little things about the man. Your eyes rolled back and you felt little whines erupt from your throat as you imagined him on top of you with his signature smirk, choking you and teasing you, calling you terrible names and whispering dirty things in your ear.

But as quickly as you heated up, the device buzzed and suddenly stopped. Too hazy to think straight you tried turning it on and off again, soon realizing it was the battery that was dead. “For fucks sake” you threw the vibrator and it hit the wall and fell with a loud thud. Good. Pulling your covers up, scowling as you shut your eyes to sleep.

The next day only went further downhill. Your lecture was long and uneventful, you forgot there was a guest speaker instead of the usual prof, most of the class skipped anyways so you sat alone and pretended to be interested. And as you went home from campus, your car broke down on the way leaving you stranded in the heat as you waited for the tow truck. You really just wanted to buy some batteries and get some time to yourself before work. But life had another thing planned once you got home, you only left with half an hour before you had to leave for work. Which barely gave you enough time to shower, change into an excuse of an outfit, grab your uniform and run out the door. You heard a few whistles as you ran to the bus stop, most likely because of the skimpy outfit which was pretty much just a long t-shirt made into a dress with stockings. But this was not the time to be picking fights.

Work was more mundane as ever. Emptying, stocking, organizing and talking was all that seemed to happen. You frowned for the nth time in the day when you saw Yuji was not scheduled to work today and you remembered him mentioning that he was going somewhere with friends for the next two days. The boy could always turn a bad day around. He was a blessing to the department and the store as a whole. The long day finally came to an end and the weekend awaited. Stuffing your uniform in your bag as you walked out you saw a familiar motorbike and a man leaning against it getting ready to light a joint.

You didn’t think, all you could hear were your footsteps smacking against the pavement as you ran to the man. Blood rushed to your head as you slowed down, stopping barely an inch away from him. He was wearing jeans and a dress shirt and most important, that smirk.

“I didn’t realize you missed me this much darling, otherwise-” but he was cut short as your hands gripped his head and pulled him down to your lips for a not so innocent kiss. You had to admit, you liked the guy. But as he responded by deepening the kiss and sliding his wet tongue into your mouth to taste you, you realized you wanted more of him. And you found yourself in his apartment, stripped down with his face buried between your legs as you came down from your second orgasm. Him licking you clean and not missing a single bit.

“When” you panted “when is Yuuji-” but he shushed you by gagging his fingers deep in your throat.

“Not until Sunday at least” he smiled with a sinister look, your wetness coating his lips “we have the whole weekend darling” He had waited almost two months for this so he was definitely going to take his time and relish the next few days. How could he not? You were beautiful with a fiery personality, and that showed by the ways you disobeyed him on his bed to get a reaction. It seemed the roles were reversed, but this time there would be consequences. For you at least.

He was relentless but you were no pussy and would not back down either. Both of you with fire and heat taking over your bodies as you brought spark and life into the night, wanting to explore every bit of each other, not stopping until you noticed the sun starting to rise causing exhaustion to take over.

He had let you stay to sleep in, provided you with a clean shirt to wear and even made breakfast for you. Presented you with a “gourmet plate of eggo waffles with the finest Aunt Jemimah maple syrup” he said which earned him a giggle from your pretty lips.

“I can make pretty good waffles from scratch” you told him proudly, puffing out your chest in pride. But these were special to you, the whole moment was special.

“I intend on trying them,” he spoke after a moment. He thought it was out of character for him to ask for a relationship but he wanted to be with you more than just a few times. And wanted more of you in different ways. He wouldn’t get his brother involved if it was a casual fuck relationship that he wanted. Which reminded him he owed the brat 50 bucks.

“Maybe you should come over sometime” you smiled sweetly, blushing a bit.

“I’d like to see you more, take out and get to know you” he said, interrupting your invitation.

“I’d like that too.” you said smiling.

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #reader inser #ryomen sukuna #yuuji itadori #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fic #sukuna imagine

[melis-writes]

Eyes like Stars [Bobby Axel x Reader Multi-chapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 3 - Safe as Houses.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 2 [AO3] / [Tumblr] / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

18+, explicit smut, multi-chapter read.

“Girl gets me outta jail early, gives a shit about me. I’d be stuck with you? Man, I was waitin’ for you, you know that?” / “Do you plan to have sex with her?”

With Hank's lawyer being able to get Bobby out of his sentence a month early, you anxiously await to see Bobby on the day of release just as you promised him. Refusing to let Bobby return to the streets alone, you insist on taking care of him and distancing himself away from his old lifestyle. Believing he doesn't deserve your kindness, Bobby is surprised to find that you've arranged a real doctor's appointment for him before taking him home. Revealing more about his past in the streets and his childhood, Bobby opens up to you as you come to realize just what he's been through--finding out the two of you are more alike than ever. Giving Bobby a warm and clean place to stay, you can no longer deny the rush of growing feelings you have for him as Bobby officially moves in with you but you may find out that old habits do die hard.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions and themes of drug abuse and illness.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: Looks like Hank's lawyer was able to work his magic and get Bobby out of his sentence a month earlier. 🤗 And of course, the reader has been eagerly anticipating to see Bobby all week! As the story continues to build, this chapter will reveal a lot more about Emily and Bobby's lifestyles and past. 👀 More about Bobby's childhood, medical history, drug use, and his current mindset is revealed here. There's definitely some wholesomeness in taking care of Bobby and having him all to yourself as the reader's genuine care and selflessness towards Bobby really shows in this chapter. Bobby lives with you now!! ❤ So get comfortable and get cozy with him because there's about to be a whole lot of fluff and the reader is falling hard for Bobby! 😳 If you would like to be on the tagslist, pls let me know either by sending me an ask, DM, or even commenting on any one of the chapters!

Bobby’s release from prison marks the end of his and Helen’s relationship and you find yourself spending more time with Bobby and taking care of him after everything he’s been through. Working and living in Manhattan as a college drop-out, you distance yourself from Helen who Bobby and you take solace with one another in hopes to get out of the toxic lifestyle of drug use—promising each other to start a new life with one another and get clean. Falling in love with Bobby, you experience a mutual, passionate and loving relationship with its own highs and lows that promises to bloom into something more serious but also can threaten to collapse. As Bobby’s new girlfriend, your relationship hangs on a thread with old skeletons coming back into Bobby’s life, relapses, and a new panic on the horizon that threatens to undo it all.

[ 1 Week Later ]

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen—uh—Bobby’s gonna be just fine. I told you I’d help, didn’t I? My lawyer worked it all out, you’ll see.”

You take in a deep breath, swallowing down the last bit of coffee in your paper cup slowly. The heat of the coffee warms you as you shiver a little from the chill in the air, raising your sleeves back over your knuckles as you toss the Styrofoam cup into the nearby trash can.

“He’s been released early? Oh, thank God. Okay. When, though? Do we have a date?”

You lean your back against the exterior, brick walls of the prison located at the secure back entrance where the custodian had directed you to. Just as heavily guarded as the front and side entrances are, this is the only part of the building where policemen and prison guards officially release prisoners into the streets under strict surveillance.

“We’ll be able to see him next week. They’re finally releasing him. Guess they’re all sick and tired of seeing Bobby as much as he is stuffed up in there, right? My lawyer will let me know the exact date when the day comes around.”

You’ve barely slept a wink as is, anticipating this day for over a week now with constant calls from Hank and occasionally his lawyer too. The entire process of appealing Bobby’s early release went even more smoothly than you planned. Although it seemed unbelievable to you at first, the judge was satisfied with Bobby’s behavior and community service hours which backed up his decision.

“Alright, good. And you’ll come with me then?”

As soon as you learned the exact date and time when Bobby would be released, you took the day off of work beforehand. You have no intention of spending the majority of your day elsewhere, knowing that Bobby’s just recovered from a heavy flu.

“Look, um… Not exactly. I was gonna say we should go pick Bobby up and everything, but uh—that’s probably not the best idea. You should go. The last thing Bobby’s going to want to see is my face as soon as he’s out of prison. You understand, don’t you?”

You haven’t been able to get a wink of sleep from the anticipation, constantly tossing and turning back and forth in bed, kept awake by wondering just how today’s going to go. At the same time, there’s a feeling of excitement hidden inside of you to see Bobby again, this time in person and not behind a wall of glass.

“If that’s what you want, Hank. I won’t make you go, but I’m going to pick him up. When he’s ready, he can come to see you again. I imagine he’ll want to.”

You’ve arrived here thirty minutes early just in case, and know you won’t miss the sound of the back door buzzing open once Bobby’s released. You glance to your side and peek at the door, just noticing a guard sitting on a stool directly by it and smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah, I guess. Well, you can just keep me updated then. He’s my brother, after all, but he still drives me crazy. Also, uh, just make sure you call beforehand, okay? If you know what I mean.”

All seems calm without any footsteps approaching, even though Bobby should be out now in just mere minutes.

“I know, Hank.”

“You got somebody waitin’ to pick you up or something, Axel?” The prison guard unlocks Bobby’s cuffs, freeing his wrists and gesturing to the back exit.

Bobby raises his head up, noticing you leaning your back against the wall just a few feet away from the door. His eyes fill with warmth for a moment before he holds back a grin, speaking out, “who? That girl? Don’t know her. Would ya mind letting me out the side door or somethin’?”

“Yeah, sure.” The prison guard leads Bobby off down the opposite end of the hallway, where he fishes out a pair of heavy keys from his pocket, unlocking two heavily secured bars off of the door.

Bobby hesitantly glances outside, hoping you haven’t noticed or made your way out to this side yet, solely for the purpose of surprising you.

“Alright, there you go.” The guard pushes the door wide open with his arm. “Stay safe out there, kid. I’d prefer not to see you in here again.”

“Yeah, man. You and me both.” Bobby mumbles, exiting out the door and hopping down the steps as he approaches out the outer gates.

You remain waiting right where you are by the back entrance, occasionally peeking at your watch to keep note of the time, completely unaware Bobby’s out already.

Bobby glances to his left and right before quietly picking up his pace and giving a nod to one of the guards by the gate. He steps out onto the block and glances around the corner, being able to spot you perfectly from his perspective.

Seeing you is like a breath of fresh air for Bobby. He already feels the stuffiness, the humidity, the stench, and the constant sensation of being cramped into a tight space relieve off his shoulders like a weight. Bobby couldn’t think of anyone better to see first after almost six months locked up behind bars again.

Just as Bobby senses you’re about to turn and glance in his direction, he hides behind one of the brick columns, almost hoping you’ll notice him.

You stare back cluelessly, unsure of what’s taking so long for Bobby’s release, and start to feel a little anxious as each and every minute passes. Much to Bobby’s dismay, you turn to face the back exit again and squint your eyes to see if you can make out Bobby inside or near the hallway at least.

Bobby quietly scurries closer over to you—a playful grin growing over his lips. The moment you turn your head back to face your front, he hops behind another column. Bobby scuffles his shoes against the pavement on purpose to grab your attention, extending his arms out ad waving them.

You raise your brows as you quickly turn your head to the direction of the sound, seeing a pair of arms waving at you just a few feet away. Bobby pops his head out, beaming back at you in reaction to your confused expression.

A sudden wave of butterflies rushes into the pit of your gut as your eyes widen at the sight of Bobby across from you. You can’t help the growing smile over your face as you take a few steps toward him, watching as Bobby skips over to you.

In a much better disposition than from the past few days recovering from his fever, Bobby has his yellow bandana tied underneath his ruffled hair, wearing his navy bomber jacket, a black sweater, and blue jeans.

“I say ‘what’s a guy gotta do to get outta this place?’ and here you are.” Bobby approaches you with a grin.

“So there you are,” you smile back at him shyly. “Tried to surprise me or just hide from me?”

“How about a bit of both?” Bobby reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket, still grinning as he pulls out a cigarette from his pack and his lighter. “Surprised to see me?”

“Maybe.” You realize your cheeks begin to sting with blush as you watch Bobby put his cigarette loosely in the corner of his mouth and begin to light it. ���I’m just happy you’re finally out.”

“Yeah?” Bobby mumbles, taking his first drag out of the cigarette before his eyes meet up with yours. “Hope I don’t go back in, huh?” You can easily tell by the tone of his voice he’s joking.

You scoff dramatically, “this time, I won’t let them take you.”

Bobby lets out a laugh, doing nothing to help the rush of butterflies you feel in your stomach. He slips his cigarette back between his lips and adjusts his jacket so it doesn’t just hang loosely over his jacket but protects him from the cold.

Before you can do anything else, Bobby gazes up at you with curious eyes as if he’s trying to read your reaction or body language. You notice he’s almost examining you in a way, and Bobby catches you by surprise when he cups your face with both of his hands, letting his thumbs stroke your cheeks. “Don’t want ya to freeze out here because of me. Are you cold?”

“I’ll manage.” You blush at his touch.

“Hmm.” Bobby smiles back at you, pulling his hands back. “You sure? You can have my jacket, you know.”

“And what’ll you have?” You give out a laugh, leaning your back against the fence. “You just recovered from the flu back in there, didn’t you? There’s no way I’m letting you take off your jacket under any circumstances out here.”

“Yeah? Well, I gotta give you something, don’t I?” Bobby reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out his neatly folded, plaid blue and red scarf. “Now, you can call this a keepsake to remember me by.”

“In case you go back to jail?” You ask back jokingly, surprised as Bobby wraps it around your shoulders.

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, making sure it fits cozily into the neckline of your jacket. “It looks better on you too. I’ll be damned.”

“It’ll all work out this time.” You blush, forcing yourself to stop staring down at his hands. “I believe there’s a silver lining to everything.”

“I got clean inside.” Bobby leans his side against the fence, too, exhaling out the smoke from his cigarette. “You mean that? ‘Cause that was bound to happen always does.”

“You don’t see any good in all of this?” You ask back.

“Mm.” Bobby pauses for a moment, holding his cigarette between his two fingers as he clutches onto the fence with the other. “I see you.”

You swear to yourself it’s impossible to blush and flush red this much—that Bobby must be noticing by now, but you thank the cold weather for being able to hide your reactions from him. “You’re definitely stuck with me now.”

“Stuck with you?” Bobby tilts his head to the side to avoid blowing smoke towards your face. “Girl gets me outta jail early, gives a shit about me. I’d be stuck with you? Man, I was waitin’ for you, you know that?” He turns back to face you. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”

‘Oh.’ You feel your heart begin to race in your chest as Bobby continues talking. “But Hank? Eugh, I hope he got you some of my stuff somewhere ‘cause I ain’t going back to that dump of his anytime soon. I gotta taste my freedom before I willingly head back into that shit hole stinkin’ with diapers, and God knows what.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth as you shake your head. “I don’t blame you about any of that. He came by my place just a few days ago with the rest of your clothes. Everything’s all settled.”

“Mm, good.” Bobby flicks off the ashes from the tip of his cigarette. “Think I’ll survive on these for a while. You smoke?”

“Occasionally.” You glance at his shortened cigarette. “No more chipping?”

Bobby lets out a breathy chuckle, grinning at you. “Everyone can always chip.”

“Oh?” You raise your brows at him playfully before getting off the fence and beginning to walk off. “Not me.”

“Oh, my bad!” Bobby calls out behind you with a laugh, rushing to keep up. “See, now you’re impressin’ me.”

You giggle, walking side by side with Bobby down the block. “If Hank dropped off anything else along with your things, I wouldn’t know. You’ll just have to find out. You have everything else, though?”

“Oh yeah,” Bobby rolls his eyes playfully. “Just the underwear on my ass and you. Unless these cigarettes count, but it feels like I’m smokin’ paper. Can you believe they didn’t let me bring my whole wardrobe to jail?”

The two of you burst into a fit of laughter as you gently nudge his arm. “You got a place to put that so-called wardrobe in?”

“Nah, not a regular place.” Bobby glances at the end of his cigarette, crossing the street with you. “I had plenty of places, though. Had. Unless I wanna be stuck with Hank and smell like diapers.”

“Looks like you’re all mine then,” you tell him, meaning to sound it out as more of a teasing joke in your head but find yourself almost regretting the words coming out of your mouth with how fast your heart begins to race.

“Aww,” Bobby chuckles as he glances at you, “you gonna take care of me?”

“Of course I am.” You tighten the scarf around your neck and nod happily. “I can’t stand to see you in this way. It’s not like they took care of you at all in that place.”

“I’ll be fine, really.” Bobby runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “It’s nothin’ to worry about. You don’t see me coughing out my lungs now, do you?”

“And if I say I insist?” You blush, unaware his eyes were still on you the entire time.

“Then I won’t argue with you, but ya gotta tell me what you’re going to do, huh? Where are we goin’?” Bobby takes a final drag from his cigarette, throwing it to the ground and crushing it with his heel.

“To the doctor.” You tell him, darting your eyes over his expression to read for any sort of reaction.

Bobby tilts his head up almost immediately at your response—his eyes widening a little. You can tell he seems appreciative but almost sheepish about it, as if that’s far too much. “In all seriousness, Em, you don’t have to do that for me.”

“I want to.” You insist, clasping Bobby’s wrist gently and pulling him over to your direction, where the physician’s clinic remains just a block away. “Hank’s not gonna be taking care of you, Bobby, and I saw the mess you got into because of someone else. They throw you out like this outside; what are you gonna do? It’s completely unfair. I don’t want to see you end up worse than you were before you got arrested.”

Bobby blinks in surprise, moving closer to you with your pull. “But why? Have you ever been in a situation like that?”

You shrug your shoulders, attempting to make out the clinic in your line of view. “Well, I used to live in the heart of the city with my parents, and now I don’t. I used to disappoint them a lot. I’m the only one who cares this much about me now. Can you believe that?”

Bobby chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s a load of bullshit to me. You? Disappointing? You’re a damn miracle worker, aren’t ya?”

You can’t help but laugh at his comment. “Maybe you shouldn’t say things just to say them, huh?”

“Oh, I’m not joking.” Bobby smirks back at you wryly, “but now I’m even more curious. Just what the hell did you do? I know it ain’t that serious because my old man and lady used to make a big deal out of everything nobody else would bat an eye for.”

“I dropped out of college.” You state, smiling to yourself.

“That’s it?” Bobby raises his brows, waiting for a devastating conclusion of some kind to add onto.

“That’s it.” You hold back another laugh, nodding at him.

“See, I knew it wasn’t anything serious or stupid.” Bobby adjusts the collar and sleeves of his jacket.

“Dropping out of the college your parents thought you were destined to go isn’t stupid or serious?” You ask back, your tone of voice lighthearted and joking.

“You mentioned college, so no.” Bobby points out, “nothing is worth shit if you don’t wanna do it, right? I always think like that.”

“You’re right.” You begin to slow down your pace as you two approach the front of the medical clinic. “That’s what I fought them for days about, but it never got through their head. So?” You lean your arm against the front door to push it open as you glance back at Bobby. “I arranged an appointment just for you, so you won’t argue with me.”

“Wha—?” Bobby furrows his brows in confusion, peeking inside the medical clinic as you both enter. “I don’t even have insurance for a place like this.”

“You don’t need any; I have it.” You smile back reassuringly at Bobby, bringing him up to the front desk. “It’s already all paid for. Ahem—hi, there. We’re here for an appointment with Doctor Gordon?”

Bobby suddenly feels a sense of alienation takes over him. He remains next to your side as close as possible but somewhat lowers his head, so he avoids making any random or unnecessary eye contact with the other patients quietly waiting and sitting inside the lobby.

Feeling incredibly out of place and quite uncomfortable, Bobby examines the new environment around him and is first and foremost surprised at how clean and sanitized it smells. Even the receptionist’s desk remains sparkling new and polished, as well as the fixtures on the ceilings to the leather couches patients sit on as they wait.

Bobby can easily tell the few patients sprawled out across the room flipping through magazines to pass the time are not addicts but just regular working and middle-class people waiting to see a doctor.

If anything, Bobby’s always been used to going into stuffy, crowded hospitals and waiting for hours to get mediocre care then be sent off on his way. He’s only landed in the hospital a few times when he thought he took a wrong dose of junk or “greened out” with marijuana.

Instead of crowds of coughing, sickly-looking patients, and endless staring at broken clocks until a nurse would finally give a shit about him to take him in, the change of scenery almost shocks Bobby.

He’s never been in a proper medical clinic, let alone had an appointment to see a decent physician one on one. He’s always been on used, dirty beds surrounded by other patients crammed up in one room. Whatever was the most urgent and apparent on him was treated and taken care of in some way, but never the type of care you had made an appointment for Bobby to get.

“Yes, it will be under my name—Emily Sutcliffe. It’s for Bobby Axel, a full body checkup. Mhmm. That would be the one.” You lean your arms against the receptionist’s counter, peeking at her logbook as she trails her finger down the alphabetical list.

Bobby grazes his teeth against his bottom lip, nibbling over it as he quickly adjusts the sleeves of his jacket once more to cover up his wrists. A sense of insecurity and self-consciousness knots up in Bobby’s gut with anxiety he thought he’d never feel in a place like this of all sorts.

He looks up at you like a lost puppy as the receptionist smiles, crossing off your name and rising to let the doctor know the both of you arrived.

You let out a soft sigh of relief, appreciating the heater radiating in the room as you turn to peek at Bobby. You notice his big, brown eyes gazing up at you as if he’s anticipating you to do the checkup and the realization suddenly hits you that this is all unfortunately foreign to Bobby.

“They gonna draw blood out of me or somethin’?” Bobby asks you, his tone ushered and barely audible.

“Maybe.” You turn your body to face him. “But only to run tests, and that’s up the doctor. I wanted you to get a full checkup, so you’re completely healthy. And if not? Then there’s nothing medication and rest can’t fix, right?”

“You’re really doing all of this for me, Em?” A look of worry crosses Bobby’s eyes. “I don’t get it. I don’t even deserve it.”

“You don’t have to deserve someone to care about you, Bobby.” You frown at him. “When was the last time you saw a doctor for a checkup of any kind?”

“Uh…” Bobby scratches the back of his head, shrugging. “I dunno. Maybe when I was a kid or somethin’? Can’t remember.”

You can practically feel your heart aching in your chest at his response. You give your head a little shake, glancing up to the hallway as Bobby does the same. You lower your voice to a whisper, speaking in a soft tone. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, but I really want this for you, Bobby. This is the least I can do for you.”

“The least?” Bobby locks eyes with you. “You’re givin’ me the world by doing this, you know that? Nobody gives a shit about an addict.”

“Former addict.” You correct, “and I do. Doctor Gordon isn’t going to judge you, believe me. I know him myself. I’ve told him enough about you. His job isn’t to judge you, and he’s not that type of person either. He’s a good man.”

“Bobby Axel?” The receptionist pops her head out of the hallway, looking over at the both of you. “Doctor Gordon will be seeing you now.”

“You gonna come with me?” Bobby asks quietly.

“I can’t come in, but I’ll be waiting with you right outside.” You smile warmly at him, beginning to walk towards the corridor and the receptionist.

“Alright.” You notice relief cross Bobby’s expression as the receptionist gestures to him, pointing at a nearby door. “Right in here, please. Doctor Gordon will be inside.”

Bobby glances back at you for confirmation, and you nod at him, taking a seat by the door. “I’ll be right here.”

“You’re better than my old lady, man,” Bobby admits, half muttering his words as he pushes open the door to Doctor Gordon’s examination room and walks in.

Bobby’s eyes widen as soon as he takes one step inside of the room. Bobby remains to be stunned by the sight of the neatly organized medicine cabinets, curtains half pulled over a clean patient bed, a grand mahogany desk filled with stacked paperwork and certifications under “Doctor Dean Gordon” that Bobby can’t even begin to count or figure out what they’re for, and a faint, yet pleasant scent of sanitation and disinfectant chemicals in the air.

Bobby almost forgets to fully enter the room and close the door behind him until he meets Doctor Gordon’s eyes. He makes eye contact with the middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard sitting at his desk, who now raises his head from writing something down to look at Bobby.

Bobby shuts the door behind him and takes another few steps inside, awkwardly standing a few feet away from Dr. Gordon’s desk as if he was expecting a punishment of some kind.

You rest your head against the wall where you patiently await Bobby, folding your hands in your lap and attempting to see if you can listen or make out anything that’s going on and being said in the examination room.

“Hello, son. You must be Bobby Axel.” Dr. Gordon greets Bobby, putting down his pen.

“Yeah,” Bobby answers back, unsure of what else to say or do.

Dr. Gordon easily picks up on Bobby’s nervous disposition, and from the look in his eyes and his trembling hands, he can tell this might as well be Bobby’s very first real visit to the doctor. “My name is Doctor Dean Gordon, and I’m your physician courtesy of Miss Sutcliffe. Looks like today you’re here for the first time, signed in and going for a full body checkup. I believe that speaks for itself, doesn’t it?”

“I guess so.” Bobby rubs over the bridge of his nose. “Never had one of those.”

“Well,” Dr. Gordon rises from his seat as he smoothes out his white coat. “It’s the bare minimum but one of the most important things anyone can do visiting a physician. I’m going to look at you from head to toe, inside and out, and you’ll get a sense of your current health and if there’s anything troubling your body.”

“I feel fine,” Bobby mutters.

“Of course you do. You just recovered from the flu a few days ago and regained your strength.” Dr. Gordon approaches Bobby. “I’m not surprised to hear that.”

Bobby’s eyes widen at the doctor’s knowledge of the fact he was just recently sick, but his mind wanders back to you being the only way any doctor could have found out, reassuring Bobby almost instantly.

“Our bodies aren’t like machines, Mr. Axel.” Dr. Gordon adjusts the stethoscope over his neck. “We don’t break down at one sign of error; instead, you can think of yourself as a clock.” Dr. Gordon’s eyes begin to dart up and down Bobby, taking a quick look at his demeanor. “We can still tick and work, but the mechanisms inside may be giving away, slowly rotting, or leading to an instant breakdown. And of course, if the clock stops ticking…” Dr. Gordon places the end of his stethoscope onto Bobby’s chest, listening for a heartbeat. “The rest is history.”

Bobby swallows hard, remaining extremely still and barely breathing as Doctor Gordon pulls away with a disappointed sigh. He hangs his stethoscope back over his neck as he looks back at Bobby with a smile. “I’m not going to hurt you, son. And I’m not going to judge you for your past decisions either, but you need to trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” Bobby breathes back. “What—um—what can I do?”

“Good question.” Dr. Gordon moves to the side, approaching a closet he pulls open and grabs a folded hospital gown from a shelf. “You can start by stripping down and getting into this; otherwise, we’ll be here until evening trying to figure out what’s going on beneath all those layers of clothes. You didn’t dress in something more light and comfortable?”

Bobby shakes his head. “I don’t have any more clothes.”

“I see.” Dr. Gordon frowns, hiding his expression from Bobby before walking back over to him and handing him the gown. “I’ll be back in five minutes with my tools. Just hop into this and sit up on that examination bed before I get back, alright?”

“Okay.” Bobby takes the hospital gown, feeling at the fabric between his fingers.

“Alright. Five minutes.” Dr. Gordon reminds him, exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

“I’m dyin’ in here, you know that?”

Bobby moves towards the examination bed and sets the hospital gown down upon it. He shrugs off his jacket and hangs it over the empty coat rack next to the bed, and begins to strip off his long-sleeved, knit top and jeans until he’s in nothing but his boxer briefs and socks.

Bobby pulls the hospital gown over him and ties it over his back before hoisting himself up onto the examination bed. He scoots over until he’s sitting in the middle with his legs dangling off the bed, facing the wall.

Bobby feels another wave of anxiety hit him as his eyes fall down to his wrists. Fully exposed within the hospital gown, he notices the faint heroin marks clustered together that’s going to be more than noticeable to Dr. Gordon, despite knowing it’s not entirely a concern.

Bobby rubs at the marks as if he’s expecting to just wipe them off. He frowns, pulling his gaze away from it to calm himself down, but his eyes land on the medicine cabinet across the room from him instead.

Bobby notices a very small pair of keys on the corner of Dr. Gordon’s desk that look like they may just fit into the medicine cabinet. He can’t make out the names or brands of the stacked boxes of medicine and pills that are in the cabinet, but Bobby thinks there’s bound to be some painkillers in there somewhere.

Bobby doesn’t feel the need to restrain himself from going through the doctor’s medicine cabinet and steal. There’s no urge or craving inside of him telling him to do so. Instead, at the moment, the medicine cabinet across from him that can easily be unlocked and taken from miserably symbolizes the past few years of his life with easy heroin usage.

Just then, the door to the examination room opens once more as Dr. Gordon returns, pushing in a small cart filled with various medical tools Bobby’s never heard of, let alone seen. Dr. Gordon pushes it over to the examination bed Bobby is on and walks up to him again, pulling the curtains around him.

“Alright, looks like you’re ready. How do you feel?” Dr. Gordon glances up at Bobby, adjusting his stethoscope again.

“I don’t know,” Bobby murmurs, shrugging his shoulders.

“When was the last time you saw a physician, son? Any physician or some sort of medical care?” Dr. Gordon asks, pulling down a bit of Bobby’s hospital gown off his chest.

“In the emergency room, maybe a year ago,” Bobby answers glumly.

“Were you an addict then?” Dr. Gordon asks casually.

“Yeah.”

“Breathe in and out for me.” Dr. Gordon presses the stethoscope to Bobby’s heart.

Bobby does as he’s told, and Dr. Gordon listens intently, pulling away a few moments after as if nothing’s happened. “And are you an addict now?” He takes off his stethoscope.

“Not anymore, no,” Bobby answers truthfully.

“I can guess when you were, that was the reason why you ended up in the emergency room?” Dr. Gordon grabs an ophthalmoscope.

Bobby doesn’t answer, but the half look of guilt and restlessness in his eyes answers the question for Dr. Gordon anyway.

“Alright. Your heart rate and breathing are normal, so you can rest easy on that one. See this hear?” Dr. Gordon gestures to the ophthalmoscope in his hand. “I’m just going to check your eyes, and we’re going to move to your ears, mouth, throat, and so forth to work our way down. Alright?”

Bobby hesitantly looks at Dr. Gordon, then gives a small nod as reassurance begins to wash over him, knowing you’re outside and waiting. “Alright.”

Dr. Gordon performs several tests over Bobby in a quick fashion. He checks Bobby’s eyes, his vision, the inside of his ears, and tests his hearing. Dr. Gordon uses a tongue depressor to look into Bobby’s mouth and performs an ultrasound over his thyroid.

“So far, so good. You can sit up now, son.” Dr. Gordon slips on a fresh pair of gloves, wiping off the gel from Bobby’s neck. “You’re a smoker, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Bobby answers quietly.

“Take care of your teeth. They look fine, but I can tell just by taking a look. Nothing serious to be worried about thus far, so I won’t be referring you to a specialist of any kind or a dentist. Though I will be taking some blood to run further tests, and—” Dr. Gordon blinks in surprise as he notices Bobby immediately jerks away his wrist from his grasp.

Bobby momentarily glances up at Dr. Gordon as if he instantly regrets doing so, and his muscles stiffen.

“It’s alright, Bobby.” Dr. Gordon nods at him. “Like I said, I know enough about you that I don’t need to take a look there, but I do need to draw some blood.”

“Okay,” Bobby says back, barely audibly.

“You’ve been honest with me thus far, haven’t you?” Dr. Gordon ties an elastic band over Bobby’s left wrist instead of his right. “There’s nothing to worry or lie about. The beauty of medical examination is that even if you do, it’ll show up.”

He chuckles, preparing the syringe and empty vial to take Bobby’s blood. “I won’t take it personally. You’d be surprised how many people lie to me here on a daily basis, whether it’s about their medical history or what they’re using. Like I said, I don’t care. It’s my job to heal and mend. However, just because it’s not a personal affront to me doesn’t mean it won’t be to her.”

Dr. Gordon notices Bobby’s eyes light up at the slightest mention of you. “You’re not lying to Miss Sutcliffe about any of this, right, son?”

“No.” Bobby shakes his head. “She knows me too well. Besides, I don’t do that lying shit.”

“Fair enough.” Dr. Gordon feels at Bobby’s arm for a vein. “Clench your fist for me?”

Bobby does as Dr. Gordon requests and gazes down at his wrist. He feels as if his gaze is locked on the syringe that he’s seen one too many times when he’s been shooting up heroin. This would be, if anything, Bobby’s first time having a needle in his wrist without the purpose of getting high.

Bobby can tell Dr. Gordon is making small talk of some kind to relieve or reassure him, but he hears nothing. Bobby hears a ringing sound in his ears, blocking out everything in his environment as he stares down at the syringe entering his skin.

Neither flinching nor moving, Bobby watches as, bit by bit, Dr. Gordon fills up four vials of his blood. Bobby feels his chest beginning to feel tight at the sight. He’s not queasy about the sight of blood or uncomfortable in any way, but it’s become far too easy to avoid looking at the vials and just pretend he’s shooting up junk instead.

“There.” As soon as Dr. Gordon pulls the needle out, he presses a cotton ball down on the site he punctured. “Apply pressure here, please. I’ll get you bandaged up.”

Bobby presses his finger down onto the cotton ball, remaining still and quiet as Dr. Gordon soaps up and washes off his hands in the nearby sink before drying them and slipping on a new pair of gloves.

Dr. Gordon takes out a bandage from a tin can on his medicine tray and replaces Bobby’s finger with his as he dabs off the last, tiny bit of dried blood on Bobby’s wrist before sticking a bandage over it. “There. We’re halfway done with you already. Now,” Dr. Gordon sets the vials of blood aside carefully on his work counter and safely disposes of the syringe.

Bobby feels his eyes burning at the sight of the needle as he watches it fall into the trashcan labeled “sharps.”

“We’re going to do a urine test next.” Dr. Gordon grabs out an empty plastic container with a lid securely attached overtop. “There’s a private bathroom just here,” Dr. Gordon pulls aside the curtain, pointing to the corner of the room. “And I’m sure you know what you need to do. Just fill this cup up with urine right about here, to this red line—the halfway mark. Put the lid on, and I’ll send it off to the lab by tonight.”

Bobby gives a small nod, taking the plastic container from Dr. Gordon and getting off of the examination bed. He walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him before staring at the red line marked halfway onto the plastic container.

Bobby unscrews the cap and sets it aside. He approaches the toilet and adjusts his hospital gown, carefully and slowly urinating into the cup without spilling a drop or making a mess.

He’s done in just a few moments and sets the container aside cautiously, finishing doing his business before flushing the toilet, washing his hands in the sink, and securing the lid back onto the container.

Bobby heads out of the bathroom, peeking back at Dr. Gordon, who disinfects his working table and the medical tray before looking up. “Ah, there you are. Everything good to go?”

“Yeah.” Bobby sets the container onto the tray.

“Perfect.” Dr. Gordon eyes the container of urine. “I’ll be sending this and your blood samples to the lab tonight. I’ll be able to contact Miss Sutcliffe with the results in a few days.”

“What’s the piss—err—urine test for?” Bobby asks, rubbing the nape of his neck.

Dr. Gordon chuckles, crossing his arms. “Well, we could go on and on about what it can provide us once it’s tested thoroughly in the lab. Basically, it’s going to tell me how well your organs are working. I can diagnose diseases and conditions like diabetes, cancer, and heart disease through it too. Also, some of the more obvious,” Dr. Gordon moves towards Bobby and tightens his gloves to prepare for the physical exam. “Urinary tract infections, kidney disease or stones and such. It’ll also test for dehydration, liver problems, you name it.”

Dr. Gordon gently takes Bobby’s right arm, glancing at the faint usage marks and easily being able to discern that they’re at least a couple months old. “Not to mention any sexually transmitted diseases. Are you sexually active, Bobby?”

“Uh, no.” Bobby answers. “Haven’t been for almost six months now.”

“And how many sexual partners have you had that you’ve had unsafe sex with?” Dr. Gordon feels at Bobby’s arm and shoulder muscles carefully.

“Just a couple, but I know them.” Bobby remains still and watches as Dr. Gordon continues his physical exam.

“No prostitutes of any kind?” Dr. Gordon makes momentary eye contact with Bobby.

Bobby shakes his head. “No, just intimate partners, I guess.”

“And safe sex partners? I have to discern those from unsafe sex.” Dr. Gordon moves on to examining Bobby’s leg muscles.

“I don’t know.” Bobby shrugs. “The number probably ranges to a dozen or somethin’ like that.”

“You were a heroin addict formerly and had over a dozen sex partners?” Dr. Gordon purses his lips. “That’s most peculiar. Most heroin addicts former and present I’ve dealt with practically don’t have a sex drive, but this is interesting. Not unheard of, but interesting. Your sex drive is high?”

“I guess so,” Bobby admits, waiting for Dr. Gordon to react in some type of way. “I didn’t really know until my last partner.”

“Know what?” Dr. Gordon adjusts Bobby’s hospital gown, revealing half of his upper torso. “About how high your sex drive was?”

“Yeah, I had a lot of sex.” Bobby’s eyes dart to Dr. Gordon’s. “Back then, I was really active.”

“Sex addiction is not surprising.” Dr. Gordon murmurs, busy at work. “And of course, it doesn’t have to amount to anything negative should it be done safely. Is Miss Sutcliffe a sexual partner?”

Bobby blushes a little, shaking his head. “No, she’s a close friend.”

“Do you plan to have sex with her?” Dr. Gordon raises a brow.

Bobby immediately avoids making eye contact. “Uh—why?”

“Maybe that’s a rhetorical question now, isn’t it?” Dr. Gordon chuckles quietly. “I’m saying it would be good to get the results of your urine test to see if you have a sexually transmitted disease first, should you plan on having sex with her.”

“Yeah, maybe. Who knows?” Bobby murmurs, knowing the idea already has a heavy appeal to him.

“Alright then, that’s between you and her.” Dr. Gordon replies. “And the test results, of course. Then we can discuss this further should something come up, but I hope not. Now, oral sex? Received or performed?”

“Both.” Bobby gives a loose shrug of his shoulders. “But that was almost over eight months ago now.”

“I see no signs of any sexually transmitted diseases or ailments on, in, and surrounding your mouth.” Dr. Gordon looks relatively relieved. “If anything, so you should be honest with Miss Sutcliffe about everything we’ve talked about and examined here.” Dr. Gordon looks at Bobby’s chest and ribcage, frowning. “Because, as I’ve mentioned with the urine test, it’ll also show any signs of ketones.”

“Ketones?” Bobby repeats, clueless.

Dr. Gordon gazes at Bobby sternly, but a look of sadness surpasses his expression. “Ketones are visible in your urine when the body breaks down fat as a source of energy, meaning it could be uncontrolled diabetes of some kind which I doubt you have—” He gestures to Bobby’s body, “however the other two possibilities being starvation and alcohol abuse, I somehow don’t doubt.”

Bobby doesn’t answer, staring back in Dr. Gordon’s eyes as if he’s disappointed him for the millionth time.

Dr. Gordon sighs deeply, nodding. “You know when Miss Sutcliffe asked to see me personally to arrange an appointment on your behalf, I was both surprised, but at the same time, I wasn’t. What took me by surprise, to begin with, was the fact that people like her still exist, but what didn’t surprise me was that it came from her. She’s a long-time patient of mine too, you know. Emily cares a lot about you, Bobby. I could tell just by the look in her eyes when she came in here the other day. Medical examinations like this without insurance would cost a fortune. Emily went out of her way to secure you a private appointment. I know she truly cares about you, and I hope you see it too. That’s why, no matter what, you and I need to establish honesty between each other. You would be doing both her and me a favor, so nothing is done for naught and goes to waste today. Just what kind of health problems have you really had, Bobby?”

“I am grateful for her,” Bobby answers quietly. “I appreciate everything she’s done for me and is doing for me, believe me, man. I don’t want you to think I’m crazy or somethin’. I’m off the junk and have been for a while. I don’t need to go to rehab.”

“I didn’t say you did, did I?” Dr. Gordon shakes his head. “From the moment you walked in here, you’ve neither been shaking nor showing me any signs that you’re a drug addict or an alcoholic. If I sent you to rehab now, it would be a grand waste of everyone’s time. All I want to know is your honest medical history.”

Bobby rubs his face with both hands, staring back at the doctor. “I just been sick like everyone else, ya know? Occasional cold or flu or something, maybe twice a year. I just recovered from one a few days ago, but um, yeah, you probably know that.”

“And as for drinking?” Dr. Gordon covers Bobby’s chest back up with his hospital gown.

“I’m not a heavy drinker,” Bobby says, but there’s uncertainty in his own answer. “I mean, I’ve had too much back then, but that was social drinking. Uh… And I’ve passed out and puked with hangovers sometimes lasting two days like that.”

“Right.” There isn’t a shred of a judgemental tone in Dr. Gordon’s voice. “Well, I’m glad your honest with me, son. The tests will show if there’s damage to your liver and the rest of your body from alcohol, but right now, I’m concerned with the fact it looks like you’ve lost a good five pounds. Are you by any chance staying with Emily for the next few days?”

“Few days?” Bobby raises both his brows, chuckling quietly. “I think she might keep me forever.”

“Good.” Dr. Gordon lets out a laugh. “Then I won’t have to worry about you eating well and healthy to gain some weight back. And speaking of being healthy, I hate to get back to the whole doom and gloom conversation, but I do have to ask—have you ever overdosed?”

Bobby nods, avoiding eye contact. “Once.”

“And did you end up in the emergency room?” Dr. Gordon questions further.

“Yeah.”

“Drug of choice?”

Bobby remains silent for a moment, pressing his lips together before answering. “You know, smack, sometimes weed.”

‘Heroin and marijuana.’

“Well,” Dr. Gordon huffs quietly, taking a step back and looking over Bobby. “All I can tell you is to take it easy with the drinking. Be responsible. I’m sure you’ve heard this mantra over a million times but believe me, it’s going to make all the difference between life, death, and rehab. Your lungs are fine but won’t be for much longer if you’re mixing cigarettes and marijuana together. Other than that, I will be in touch with the results in a few days, and you’re good to go, for now, Bobby. Thank you for trusting me.”

Bobby gives Dr. Gordon a small smile, remaining relatively quiet. “Yeah, thanks, Doc.”

“I’ll step out for you to get dressed, and you and Miss Sutcliffe can go. I’ll let her know how today went.” Dr. Gordon begins to make his way over to the door, placing his hand on the doorknob before glancing back. “And one more thing, Bobby. It goes without saying but please, for your sake, stay clean.”

Bobby blinks back at Dr. Gordon as he exits the room. He only sees a glimpse of you looking up, anticipating the results as the doctor strikes a conversation with you about how the checkup went.

Once the door is shut, Bobby hops off the bed and reaches for his clothes. He peels off the hospital gown and sets it aside, pulling his clothes back over him.

Dr. Gordon tells you nothing of interest or worry, simply detailing the exams he did and when to expect results before bidding you goodbye and leaving to see his next patient. You eagerly eye the door as Bobby approaches, zipping up his bomber jacket and walking out.

“Hey.” You breathe, rising to your feet. “How did it go?”

“Well, I’m definitely not dyin’.” Bobby grins back at you, and the playful expression over his face is all you need to calm your anxiety. “So I’d say it went good.”

“Great.” You let out a small laugh, rubbing Bobby’s shoulder. “Dr. Gordon let me know he’ll call us with the results in a day or two. It doesn’t matter if there’s something wrong. I’ll get you treated for it.”

“Yeah?” Bobby’s voice grows soft and ushered as he faces you directly. “Thank you, Em. Really. You’ve done all of this for me, and I still can’t believe it. I don’t even know why you try but, damn. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“Aw, what are you saying?” You beam back at Bobby as the two of you begin walking off towards the exit. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to be well.”

“My old lady didn’t even take me to a doctor like this, ya know?” Bobby puts a gentle arm around your waist, catching you by surprise. You blush deeply at his touch, walking with him. “I got a lot to thank you for, man. You gonna take me to the spa next or what?”

You burst out laughing as you get back out onto the street. “If we’re going to the spa, the both of us are going to get something done. I’m taking you home now, alright?”

You glance back at Bobby as he makes direct eye contact with you, an appreciative smile forming over his lips that sends the butterflies within your gut into a frenzy. “Alright.”

~

You nestle Bobby’s scarf around your collar, readjusting and tightening it as you pick up his soft yet faded scent over the fabric. Keeping warm from the chilly wind blowing over the both of you, Bobby, and you continue to make your way down the block, only an eight-minute walk from your apartment complex now.

“Oh, so now we’re headin’ into the nicer part of the city, huh?” Bobby jokes, again putting his arm lightly around your waist to pull you away from the side of traffic and crowds of people passing by.

“It’s decent.” You let out a small laugh, “but it’s no palace.”

“Yeah? I know Manhattan like the back of my hand.” Bobby gestures outward with his palm, walking with you. “There ain’t many of your regular junkies down there, if at all.”

“So?” You glance back at him, stifling another laugh.

“So,” Bobby grins, “I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Too bad they’ll have to get used to you. You’re my guest.” You playfully shrug. “I think you’ll like it there for sure.”

“Like may be an understatement.” Bobby tilts his head up to gaze up at the apartment buildings surrounding the two of you. “You tryna impress me?”

“Are you impressed?” You tease back.

“Oh yeah,” Bobby smirks at you. “’Cause you’re also some big shot at Way Enterprises, huh?”

“If being a receptionist can even be called a ‘big shot.’” You snort, approaching your building. “If only, but I’d never fit in, and I’m actually more than okay with that.”

“Never kiss ass to advance, huh?” Bobby’s pace comes to a halt as you both approach the apartment complex door.

“Never.” You smile back at him, punching in the code as the gate buzzes and unlocks. “No doubt my parents would want me to climb the ranks, though.” You push open the door, letting Bobby in first.

“They’re not happy their daughter is working in Manhattan like this already?” Bobby shoves his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket.

“Well, who knows?” You roll your eyes, giving out a little sigh as both you and Bobby get into the elevator. “I could probably care less about what they think of my career here now.”

“That’s what I’ve always liked about you.” Bobby comments, leaning his back against the elevator wall as you press the seventh-floor button. “You’re your own person. You do your own thing. I like that.”

“Couldn’t I say the same about you?” You blush as the elevator slowly begins to rise up to the seventh floor.

“Maybe.” Bobby locks eye contact with you. “I’d have to learn how to think that way again after being stuck with Hank for so long.”

“You’d rather be stuck with me?” You ask, mentally scolding yourself for how ridiculous the question sounds just now.

“Stuck with you?” Bobby repeats, grazing his fingertips against his lips as he scratches his chin. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I’d like to be stuck with you.”

You grin, gazing down at your feet shyly as the elevator comes to a slow halt. The doors pull open, and the corridor of the seventh floor where your suite is located and you and Bobby both walk out of the elevator side by side.

“Smokin’ allowed in ‘ere?” Bobby lowers his tone as he begins to glance left and right to the other suites.

“Not in the hallways or in the complex, but in the suites, yeah. Notice how it doesn’t stink in here like it does at Hank’s?” You approach suite number #715, fishing out your keys from your jacket’s pocket.

“Ugh, don’t even get me started, man.” Bobby scrunches up his nose. “You’d think I was a dad the way I got used to smellin’ those diapers. Kids there shit for a living.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head and unlocking the front door as you push it open. “Well, there’ll be none of that here, so make yourself at home.”

As you and Bobby both step into the apartment and you close the door behind him, Bobby’s immediate reaction strikes you as you notice the look of pure shock crossing his face.

Standing by the door, Bobby blinks as he gazes around at your suite. The first thing he notices is how warm it is with the heater not only actually working but heating up the entire suite, including the floors.

Although you’re an occasional smoker, Bobby can’t pick up on even the faintest scent of cigarettes but rather smells cleanliness, room spray, and your perfume lingering in the air.

Although Manhattan boasts much, much larger and grander apartments well past nine-hundred square feet, Bobby may as well have stepped into a palace as he remains in awe at the size of the spacious suite that for once is neither cramped nor covered in used, dirty furniture and items.

Your apartment is organized and well maintained with a record player next to a shelf of neatly stacked records in the corner, a bookshelf in the living room, two healthy, potted plants by the balcony, couches that aren’t stained in God knows what or sunk in from having dozens of owners using it in the past years, clean carpets, working lightbulbs, a television, and a kitchen to Bobby’s left that doesn’t look like something died in it.

You smile shyly at Bobby, noticing his surprised expression as you take off your jacket and fold up his scarf. Bobby slowly takes off his shoes on the mat by the door but is unable to take his eyes off of his surrounding environment as if he’s in a trance.

Bobby’s big, brown eyes light up like it’s his first Christmas. He takes in a deep breath, almost dumbfounded by the otherwise decently clean apartment. It’s nothing to boast about or make any claims of luxury, but it just reminds Bobby of the disgusting, musty shithole of apartments he bounced back and forth in with Hank and Helen.

“You can stay here as long as you’d like.” You speak out to Bobby softly, gesturing down the hallway towards the bedroom. “Hank came by earlier today with some of your clothes and things. I’ve put them in the bedroom, and I have fresh linens, pillows, towels, everything.”

Bobby blinks at you, stunned as if he’s unable to understand a single word coming out of your mouth. “And down the hall here is the storage room, and next to it in the bathroom. Oh! And before I forget—” You quickly slip off your shoes and grab the new spare key you got done for Bobby off of the coffee table, dangling it in front of him. “I got you a spare key too.”

“This…” Bobby gestures around him with his finger, staring at you in bewilderment. “This is the part where you tell me it’s all a joke, right?”

“It’s not, though.” You smile warmly at him.

“Wow,” Bobby mutters quietly to himself.

After all, Bobby’s never had a safe or warm place to stay in—let alone a regular place to call his own. The apartments and hotel rooms he bounced back and forth in were always cramped, damp, smelt of mildew, filled with cockroaches that crawled over the cracking walls and cheap woodwork giving into the mites.

A deep, familiar sadness begins to fill Bobby’s eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

The walls were paper-thin, and you could hear someone upstairs and down the hallway sneezing. Not to mention the fact there was never a clean bathroom to be used, always riddled with shit and used needles in which Bobby knew he’d rather just piss outside in a corner somewhere.

“You don’t have to say anything.” The smile off your face fades as you read Bobby’s expression.

Bobby’s never even seen this much furniture in his life, especially in a clean, neat, and maintained fashion. On the one hand, he’s utterly shocked to be in such an apartment and know you want him to stay with you—insist he does so, so you can take care of him and give him a place to live in, and on the other hand, Bobby feels his chest tighten in the sense of despair.

“Are you…? Are you sure I can stay here, Em?” Bobby’s throat tightens momentarily.

Only now has Bobby come to realize what kind of a life he’s been living and leading before seeing you again—before being able to know you actually care for him so much so that letting Bobby move back in with Hank. Bobby’s always lived such a temporary life that he’s never had a real place to call home.

“Of course I am.” You nod, approaching Bobby and placing your hand over his wrist to turn his palm up and extend it to you. “I’m insisting now, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” You place the spare key in the palm of Bobby’s hand and squeeze his knuckles into a fist, so he clenches onto it.

“Mrrrrp?” Luna purrs out, peeking out from the hallway.

You and Bobby both turn your heads to spot your cat lingering by the bedroom door, now directly staring at Bobby. Luna pauses for a moment, analyzing the stranger in her home before trotting away—confused and disinterested in Bobby.

You giggle, gesturing back to her with your hand. “That’s my cat, Luna. She’s a little shy, but she’ll get used to you long enough.” A small smile begins to grow on Bobby’s lips as he nods, looking back into your eyes with anticipation as you continue talking. “The only exception here is that I’d really rather you don’t tell anyone where I live. Hank knows, but that’s a given because he brought your things. I won’t have a problem having anyone else over, but Chico, Sonny, Irene, Marcie…”

“Oh.” Bobby chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, if I lived in a regular palace like this, I wouldn’t want them comin’ over either.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not all that.” You smile at Bobby shyly. “You and I both know how our friends are. They’d just bring all their junk over. My landlord and the security here are strict. It’s my little home, and I see it as a safe haven if you know what you’re doing.”

“And they don’t.” Bobby nods, knowing exactly what you mean as he slips the spare key in his jacket’s pocket. “Yeah, trust me, they make that obvious.”

“I love them all to death, but…” You sigh quietly, hanging up your jacket neatly on the coat rack and turning on the rest of the lights in the suite. “They’d do something stupid, and the last thing I want is to be evicted out of here.”

Bobby breaks out into a laugh, tightening his bandana over his hair. “Yeah? You’re right about that. I was gonna suggest it to you if you wouldn’t have told me.”

“So it’s all good then?” You grin back at him, pulling away from the coat rack.

Bobby doesn’t answer you. The smile on his lips grows wider as he remains quiet, and you peek back at him—a sense of strong shyness growing over you.

Bobby approaches you slowly, clasping your wrist gently and catching you by surprise. “Thank you, Em, for everything.” He gives your hand a small squeeze as you feel his slender fingers rub against yours. “When are you ever gonna let me give you a proper ‘thank you?”

“You don’t have to do anything like that for me.” You blush deeply, speaking in a quiet tone back to him. “Besides, I could never ask anything of you. That would be ridiculous and unfair to do.”

“Yeah?” Bobby breathes. “Well, I’ll think of somethin’ anyway. It doesn’t always have to be you taking care of me, you know.” Before you can even answer, Bobby’s smile forms into a wry smirk. “I have my ways.” Bobby lets his thumb rub up against the back of your hand before he pulls away, leaning the palm of his hand against the wall next to you. “You got a regular shower in this place or another palace in the bathroom?”

“Just a regular bathroom, how’s that?” You offer jokingly, only continuing to feel your cheeks burn bright red at just the slightest touch from Bobby.

“Works for me.” Bobby winks, beginning to untie the bandana around his hair. “I’mma go take a shower if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course.” You breathe, feeling the surge of butterflies race in your gut again.

“Alright.” Bobby holds his bandana between his fingers and unzips his bomber jacket in front of you as if he’d strip naked right before you.

Still in a dazed state of surprise and blushing like mad, you watch as Bobby turns on his heel and heads down the hallway to the bathroom holding his folded jacket over one arm and beginning to pull up his knit shirt with the other—revealing a peek of his waist and stomach.

Feeling instantly flustered with your cheeks burning red, you rub over them with the palm of your hand quickly and force your eyes off of Bobby. You’re more than well aware at this point of the butterflies constantly swarming inside of you, and it’s no longer at the slightest touch from Bobby or being up close to him but with everything.

A sense of embarrassment hits you as you move towards the kitchen. From the corner of your eye, you spot Bobby entering the bedroom and taking a peek inside for the first time. Being at a small distance from him now is a relief to the butterflies in your gut because, if anything, you know this isn’t just a classic case of attraction.

‘I’m down bad.’ At least you can admit that much to yourself. Coming to see Bobby in prison and then waiting for his release made your heart race and skip a beat, and you couldn’t explain to yourself why you felt that way either.

No amount of mentally scolding yourself and asking, ‘what the hell is going on?’ is able to push away how strong your feelings are beginning to grow for Bobby. You don’t have to sit and think about attraction—you know you’ve been attracted to Bobby physically since the day the two of you met. How could you not be?

Those big, brown eyes gazing back at you, his full, pouty, pink lips, down to the shape of his jawline and cheekbones, his ruffled hair, the way his bomber jacket hugs around his shoulders and back—not to mention his soft, velvety voice and Bronx accent coming out through every word.

Unable to deny yourself the feelings you have towards Bobby emotionally already, now you know it physically shows too. Bobby barely has to do anything to get your attention or even keep it. He doesn’t have to try to tease you or even have the intention of getting a reaction out of you, but with your heart thundering in your chest and blush hitting your cheeks, it’s a dead ringer for how badly you’re falling for Bobby Axel.

You let out a soft breath of relief as you begin to rinse your hands off in the sink and lather them in soap to get ready and prepare something to eat for the both of you.

Bobby clutches onto the doorway and gazes into the bedroom—now toasty warm from the heater with everything neatly arranged and organized. He notices his old, scraggly duffel bag he left at Hank’s, now placed next to a night table where you’ve put out a fresh change of clothes for him.

Bobby steps inside the bedroom and approaches the night table and his duffel bag, being able to notice that the bag is full with his other clothes and items. He runs his hands over the fabric of the neatly folded clothes and picks it up, seeing there’s his long-sleeved brown shirt and a pair of black slacks alongside some socks and boxer briefs.

Bobby notices the clothes are clean, and although he hadn’t left his dirty laundry at Hank’s place or elsewhere, it’s apparent to him you’ve freshly washed his clothes before you placed them there for Bobby.

Bobby sniffs at his clothes, picking up an airy scent of laundry detergent. Not only are the clothes clean and smell so, but they’re also warm from being close to the heater.

Bobby’s eyes glance back towards the doorway of the bedroom as he hears you pulling out a pot and rummaging through a cabinet in the kitchen. He clutches onto his pile of clothes and heads towards the bathroom, about to reach his hand out and twist the doorknob open before he notices the storage room across from him.

Bobby pushes open the ajar door and takes a look in, the light in the corridor being enough to illuminate the small space. Bobby runs his fingers along with various sized towels before taking a body towel for himself and a smaller one for his hair.

Bobby adds the towels to his pile of clothes and opens the bathroom door, sliding his hand around the wall to find the light switch before turning it on.

‘This is gonna take some gettin’ used to.’ Bobby’s eyes dart over the bathroom in the same awe that he was in when he entered your apartment suite. It’s not only the first time he’s been inside of a clean, disinfected, and organized bathroom, but that the sink, toilet, and bath actually work too.

Bobby peeks inside the toilet bowl, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. No shit stains, no clogs, a full roll of toilet paper next to it with an empty trash bin lined with a bag. He closes the lid to the toilet and sets his pile of clothes down upon it, testing the sink faucets next.

Hot water and cold water run perfectly. Bobby’s eyes fall to the towel rack next to the sink holding a clean, white towel. Next to the bathtub remains a laundry basket, only containing a folded and discarded bedsheet at the bottom.

‘Clean tub, clean shower curtains.’ Bobby runs his hands over the rubbery shower curtains, pulling them aside and seeing the tub. It’s clean without a stain or loose hairs clogged up like he’s used to seeing, and Bobby may as well claim it’s sparkling even though a clean bathtub is a bare minimum in house chores for you.

You’ve bought and placed a new loofa hanging by the bathtub faucet for Bobby to use, and Bobby notices a men’s body wash and shampoo bottle placed right next to it. Bobby isn’t even familiar with seeing the sight of fresh bars of soap, hair conditioner, and even bubble bath items.

Even the mirror over the sink isn’t cracked, scratched, or covered in a dry splatter of God knows what. Bobby may as well have walked into the finest hotel in Manhattan, but it just remains to be your cozy little home and all that you’ve known since moving down here.

“Regular palace ya got here!” Bobby calls out from the bathroom, causing you to burst out laughing from the kitchen.

Bobby grins to himself, opening up the medicine cabinet by the mirror and noticing off-the-counter painkillers and drugs that he recognizes is for headaches, body aches, stomach aches, some cold and flu medication—the regular.

Bobby closes the bathroom door behind him and begins to strip down. He sets his bandana on the bathroom counter and throws everything he’s been wearing throughout the day into the laundry bin.

Bobby glances at his naked body in the mirror for a moment before stepping inside the tub and pulling the shower curtains over to cover himself and the tub. He peeks at the tub faucet and shower head for a moment, figuring out how to use them before turning on the hot water.

Adjusting the temperature of the water a little bit by raising his hand up to the showerhead, Bobby finally moves into the center of the tub and lets the hot water begin to wash over him.

Bobby grunts in relief, feeling the clean water rinsing over his entire body and easing the tense muscles in his back. He closes his eyes as the water soaks his eyelashes and dribbles down his lips. Once he’s completely soaked and enjoying the forming steam in the tub, Bobby picks up the men’s shampoo bottle you placed for him and begins to lather a decent amount into his hair.

Bobby furrows his brows as he notices the filth and dirt washing down the drain and off of his body. He’d be lucky if there wasn’t a half-used or even half-eaten bar of soap in the prison showers and is grossed out in a way he hasn’t been able to clean himself properly.

In the kitchen, you hear the shower starting up and smile to yourself. You open up a new box of spaghetti as the water in the pot before you begin to boil on the stove. Snapping the spaghetti in half within your hands, you add it to the boiling water and give it a good stir before opening up the fridge.

You take out the fresh meatballs you rolled up last night from a tray on the fridge and set them aside on the counter. Giving them a gentle pat to see how they’ve settled and checked for size, you add them to the heated pan next to the pot of spaghetti and begin to fry them.

A classic homemade meal of spaghetti and meatballs has always been your favorite dish, and you’re eager to cook for Bobby now too. The sense of care and compassion inside of you almost overwhelms you in a good way, knowing right now that if Bobby can just get a good night’s sleep and a decent meal, it’ll ease the ache in your heart after seeing him in such a state.

You reach for a jar of your own homemade marina sauce out of a cupboard as you begin to pick off the cooked meatballs one by one and set them on a plate. You turn off the burner and drain the spaghetti into the sink, adding it back to the pot while it’s still hot.

You cut a small slice of butter and let it drop into the spaghetti, giving it a good stir to help it melt and coat the pasta within the heat. You split the spaghetti equally onto two plates, slathering the pasta in the marina sauce before adding the hot meatballs on top and giving the meal a good stir with a fork.

‘There…’ You inhale at the scent of the mouth-watering meal as you set the plates across from each other on the dinner table. Adding forks and two tall glasses of water, you then move the hot pan and pot off the burners you used and onto the other side to cool down.

Bobby rinses the last of the body wash off of his body, turning off the tap and squeezing excess moisture out of his hair. Making sure to have washed off any dirt or such that came off of him while he was showering, Bobby then reaches for his body towel off of the toilet seat and wraps it around him.

Bobby steps out of the shower and exhales deeply, feeling the steam in the air surrounding him. Bobby quickly throws the other towel around his shoulders and ruffles it through his hair just enough to keep it a little damp.

Getting a good look at himself in the mirror, Bobby picks up a clean hair comb by the sink and begins to comb through his hair, pressing the dry parts of the towel onto his hair to soak up any more moisture before he scoops up his clothes and decides to dress in the bathroom as the steam in the bathroom begins to feel stuffy.

You glance over your shoulder as you hear the bathroom door close, expecting Bobby to come back out fully dressed, but the sight of him just about to walk into the bathroom half-naked, with his bare chest wet and dripping causes your cheeks to flush a shade of scarlet.

You quickly turn away and grab your pack of cigarettes and your lighter off the counter, clearing your throat just to call out for Bobby and let him know. “Food’s ready!”

“One sec, darlin’.” You hear Bobby’s voice ring out from the bedroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Thinking it would be impossible to blush this much, you slip a cigarette in your mouth and take a seat at the table, waiting for Bobby. You push the cigarette pack towards the center of the table as you light it, noticing your hands a little shaky from the sudden rush of butterflies hitting you again.

Getting dressed in his fresh pair of clothes, Bobby throws his hair towel over his shoulder as he walks out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen. You turn your head back just in time to notice him standing by the kitchen doorway; the towel draped over his shoulder and his ruffled, damp hair a mess—hanging over his eyes.

“Hey,” Bobby speaks out softly to you with a small smile on his lips.

“Hi.” You blush, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and exhaling a soft bit of smoke around you.

“I made do with your shower.” The smile on Bobby’s lips grows as he rakes a hand through his damp, ruffled hair.

“I can tell.” You blush deeply. “How do you feel?”

“Relieved, clean.” Bobby exhales softly, eyeing the table. “I cleaned everythin’ up too, so don’t worry. I think I washed off six months of grime and shit off of me. Ya know how long it’s been since I’ve had a hot shower like that?”

“About as long as you’ve had a decent meal?” You peek at him, noticing his top that once fit him perfectly remains slightly baggy now over his arms and torso.

“Yeah,” Bobby admits sheepishly, approaching the table slowly as if he’s looking at someone else’s meal. “Spaghetti and meatballs… You made this?”

You nod back at him, putting the cigarette back in the corner of your mouth and handing him one. “I love to cook, and I always prefer a homemade meal instead of eating out. I hope you like it.”

“Just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Bobby’s eyes peek back up at yours as he takes the cigarette. “Shit… This looks amazing.” Bobby takes his seat, gazing down at the dish before him.

“Yeah?” You smile, pushing the ashtray to the center of the table. “Tell me what you think.”

“I suppose this is health food.” Bobby grabs his fork with his free hand, digging into the spaghetti and a piece of the meatball before raising it up to his mouth and taking a bite.

“It might as well be.” You give out a laugh, shrugging your shoulders and setting your cigarette against the ashtray before you begin to eat. “I find there’s nothing good from eating out all the time.”

“Mm…” Bobby nods at you slowly, savoring the taste. “This is so good. Homemade… And for once real meat.”

You beam back happily at Bobby, feeling the same rush of butterflies swirl inside you at the sight of him practically gorging into his meal hungrily. Bobby ignores his cigarette completely, only focused on stuffing his face as he takes one fork after another and shoves the pasta in his mouth.

“Um—” Bobby slows down as soon as he notices your curious eyes gazing at him. He sets down his fork and wipes his mouth with a napkin, his eyes still in awe of everything. “Sorry. Can’t remember the last time I had a decent meal, let alone homemade and hot.”

“What are you apologizing to me for?” You cover your mouth as you chew on a meatball. “I can’t imagine you’ve been eating much of anything good for you after all this time. I want you to stuff your face if you have to.”

“You really insist on taking care of me, huh?” Bobby picks up his cigarette and pops it into his mouth, beginning to light it. “You’re better than my old lady, man. She was never even around, ya know? Not then, not now.”

You swallow down your food, reaching for your cigarette but ultimately unable to hide the look of sadness growing behind your eyes. “What was that like?”

“Eh, ya know.” Bobby shrugs his shoulders, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Scoldin’ me and lecturing me for never being around, never seeing her. But I couldn’t live that kinda life. It’s not like she was ever there for me.”

“Was it the same for Hank?” You ask, watching as Bobby is quick to set down his cigarette and dig right back into his meal.

“’Course it is,” Bobby mumbles through a mouthful of food. “You’d think Hank’s goal in life was to get into crime as soon as possible or somethin’. He did all that shit way before me, and like the good brother he is—” Bobby swallows down his food, “he convinced me to do the same. And ya know, Hank found out pretty fast that he was good at stealin’ things. First, he started ‘borrowing’ things from people.”

You cover your mouth, stifling back a laugh. Noticing your reaction, Bobby grins back mischievously at you and continues his story. “Yeah, yeah. Then things go disappearing without a trace because he would just take ‘em. Then he moved onto pickin’ pockets, offered to look after people’s things under random names. So my brother made a small fortune just makin’ sure unimportant things went missin’.”

Bobby taps the ashes off of the tip of his cigarette. “He’d sell ‘em elsewhere, maybe outta town. Maybe some other time so nobody would ask questions or raise a brow here and there. He even modified the stuff he stole so the owners wouldn’t come lookin’ for it. Now ya know he breaks into cars, garages, homes—shit.” Bobby notices he tapped off far too much ash from his cigarette, putting it out.

You take the lighter off of the table, flickering it on and leaning towards Bobby over the table, lighting his cigarette again for him. Bobby locks eyes with you, inhaling as the head of his cigarette burns bright before he sits back down. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“Not a problem.” You blush, shifting in your seat. “How old were you when Hank got you into all of this?”

“Nine,” Bobby answers, looking at his cigarette between his fingers. “I was just a useless kid and couldn’t really help ‘em at that point, but Hank saw how quick I was on my feet. You wanna know the first time I got busted?” He locks eye contact with you. “I was nine, stealin’ rubbers for Hank. Yeah. Not so glorious, but he said he needed to fuck.”

You giggle quietly as Bobby nods, leaning back in his seat and extending out his arms to stretch. “Oh yeah, it’s a true story. Except Hank somehow got his shit together doin’ what he does, which is why he wears nice suits and lives in a decent place. Kinda like you, huh? Except you don’t spend all your money on heroin and hookers.”

You two burst out laughing as you set your fork down, shaking your head. “I guess that’ll be the main distinction between your brother and me.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re tellin’ me.” Bobby finishes up the last of the pasta on his plate, practically leaving it clean. “Now look at me, right? I never ended up like Hank. Cops took me home to my old lady when I got caught, and then she kicked both Hank and me out. Didn’t even bat an eye; she just told us to get out. The streets have been my home since.”

You nibble over your fingernails, propping your elbow up on the table as you gaze back at Bobby. “Staying out in the streets like that at such a young age—”

“You get used to it, honey, believe me.” Bobby shakes his hand, gesturing the thought away with his hand. “Eh, me and Hank used to stay at friends’ houses, then the prostitutes he slept with, so I mean at least I kinda had a roof over my head. I grew up in hotels and ten junkies sharing a one-bedroom apartment almost my whole life.” He stares down at his cigarette. “So I was bouncin’ around in places, but at least they were places.”

“Still, I’m sorry you had to go through any of that, to begin with, you.” You pout. “Seriously, I can’t even imagine. I feel horrible, Bobby.”

“Why would you?” Bobby rests his chin over his fist and smiles at you. “You’re the first to say so, but you’re the first to do all this for me. I ain’t even deserve it, how’s that? Yet here I am, in on my luck—pretty girl wants to take care of me for some reason.”

You blush deeply as Bobby notices your reaction. “I have my reasons, and all of them have to do with selflessness and kindness. I don’t want anything from you, Bobby. I don’t want you to think I do either. It’s not your fault you got into the mess.”

“To get outta messes like these, you gotta get out of Needle Park.” Bobby puts his hand over top of yours, giving it a pat.

“You can say that again.” The surge of butterflies pulls at your gut once more at Bobby’s touch.

“Easier said than done, though.” Bobby clears his throat, drinking down some of his water. “I still gotta work for Santo, ya know.”

“You haven’t always been working for Santo, though, right?” You furrow your brows. “I mean, before he even got to Manhattan—what were you doing?”

“You wanna know how I made money before all this?” Bobby chuckles, placing both of his arms over the table and leaning in. “Before this mess? Lemme tell ya. I stole a TV for twenty-five dollars and only got that much from $15 after talking the ear off of the pawnshop lady.”

“That’s business,” you giggle back. “But then, what’s one good reason why you should keep working for a big shot like Santo?”

“Ya know Santo?” Bobby raises a curious brow at you.

“Of course I do.” You nod back, “well, not personally or anything like that, but he’s feeding everyone’s arm here with his supply and his supply only.”

“Smart girl.” A wry smirk forms on Bobby’s lips. “Then ya know where the big money comes from. There’s no other way to make a livin’ around here, and I made hundreds a week when the going was good. But,” Bobby taps his fingers impatiently against the table, “both times were short-lived thanks to Helen and Hank. I learned my lesson.”

“So, what do you want to do?” You ask, intrigued.

“I gotta see Santo and set things straight.” Bobby forms his hand into a fist, cracking his knuckles. “I still wanna do it and now the right way.”

“Bobby,” you frown at him, leaning into the table. “Why do you feel the need to do it all over again knowing the risk it poses? Being Santo’s main supplier? You’re basically putting a red target on your back, not just from Hotch but the other dealers. There’s competition now. The streets are run completely different.”

“Emily.” Bobby gazes back into your eyes, smoking slowly and exhaling the smoke towards you. “I’m a dope addict.”

“And so am I; what’s new?” You counter back.

Bobby cracks a smile, lowering the cigarette out of his lips and resting his hand against the side of his face. “I’m a sex-crazed dope addict.”

“Bobby—” you begin but cut yourself off as you notice his right arm’s sleeve roll down enough to expose his faint marks of previous heroin use.

Your eyes dart back to Bobby’s as he almost immediately rolls his sleeve down, about to knock over his glass of water in the process but holds himself back. He clutches onto the fabric of his shirt, giving out a soft sigh.

Just like that, in an instant, the playful and rather cheery expression fades off of Bobby’s disposition almost entirely. Staring back at you, Bobby slowly rolls up his sleeve and sets his arm in front of you upon the table.

You look up at him then back down at the heroin marks as he grazes his fingers around the old scars. “Why am I doin’ this?” Bobby’s big, sad eyes meet up with yours as he speaks out in an ushered, almost shameful tone. “Because I’m dyin’ from the junk, Emily.”

#al pacino #al pacino x reader #alfredo james pacino #melis-writes #bobby axel x reader #bobby axel x oc #bobby axel fanfic #the panic in needle park fanfic #the panic in needle park #the panic in needle park smut #bobby axel x reader smut #bobby axel #eyes like stars fanfic #the panic in needle park x reader

[ateezmakemeweep]

seonghwa x reader x yeosang; love triangle au

word count: 35k

angst, fluff, smut

it was in your first class of the semester, intro to creative writing at nine a.m., that you met kang yeosang.  

you didn’t know what to expect from the college experience, leaving the safety and familiarity of your hometown to come to a new city full of strangers and endless possibilities.

one of them being an all-consuming, butterfly-inducing first love that you missed out on from years of being socially anxious and reclusive.

it all started when you showed up late to your first class, red-faced and flustered and apparently very forgetful.

you sealed your fate the moment you borrowed a pen from the cute boy next to you, sneaky looks and shy smiles eventually morphing into so much more.

september - freshmen year

you’ve seen movies and shows and even heard some things in the halls of your high school about college classes. how they were so much harder than anything you’d been exposed to but also came with more freedom.

you didn’t need a certain color or book for the subject, you could freely leave to go the bathroom or get a drink, you didn’t even have to show up for all the professor cared.

it was also known that there were many different types of people in college: the stereotypical frat boys, boasting about parties and girls as they wore cut-off shirts and showed up to class hungover.

there were the edgier teens and young adults, finding their own look away from the eyes of their parents with piercings and tattoos and brightly colored hair that caught the attention of the older, snooty professor.

and then there was everyone else.

students like you who, maybe, didn’t fit in anywhere yet or didn’t know where they were gonna fit in; but, truthfully, fitting in was the last thing on your mind.

because it was the first day of classes, bright and early in the morning, and you were scrambling into the grand brick building, panicked and breathless, as you searched desperately for room 204.

you set an alarm and got out of your dorm room and everything, a single dorm you are so eternally grateful you secured. but it was a few wrong turns and entering one of the wrong buildings on the other side that landed you your current fate.

winded with messy hair and slightly red cheeks as you entered what you were praying was the right room. the professor was still doing introductions via a powerpoint and barely sparred you a glance, allowing you to easily slip into the first available seat.

you took the professor doing her own introduction and going over the syllabus to catch your breath, calm down and relax yourself because okay, yeah, that was a bit of a mess but you’re here in one piece now.

you made it in without getting scolded, you didn’t fall on your face or trip over the outdated tan carpet and you’re pretty sure no one even noticed you.

“i’ll spare you the ice breakers because i know you guys are gonna get stuck with some in your other classes,” the professor said, another win for you because you can’t imagine anything worse than trying to talk to someone right now.

“i just have a few notes for you to take and then i’ll let you guys go early. how does that sound?”

there’s a chorus of replies muffled by the sound of students shuffling to open their bags, notebooks hitting the table and the satisfying but annoying click of new pens.

it’s upon opening your own backpack that you realized, not only were you late to your first day of college but, you’d forgotten something as simple as a pen.

you rummage through your bag, hoping one just slipped to the bottom and letting out a quiet, annoyed sigh as you come to terms with this. you should’ve just brought your laptop, you already see several other people them so it would’ve been fine.

why do you always have to-

“need one?”

the deep voice from beside you is low and whispered, long fingers attached to a veiny hand offering you a blue pen. you hadn’t even noticed who you sat down next to you, far too consumed in your embarrassment about being late to notice the very attractive, very nice man sitting right next to you.

he couldn’t help but notice you though, if the way your bag hit into his shoulder and the cute little sigh you made when you plopped down right next to him didn’t immediately grab his attention.

his interest was only peeked further when he heard you rummaging next to him, a slight flush on your exposed neck that he can only assume happens when you’re flustered.

his voice ripped you from your frantic searching, eyes meeting his as your breath caught in your throat.

they were deep and brown, with a soft light in them that kept you entranced for far too long. his hair was black and looked soft to the touch, hanging just above his eyes so it didn’t obscure his regal features.

“i... yes please,” you finally answer with a wince, taking the pen from his hold gently. “thank you.”

“no problem,” he responds cooly, keeping his eyes on you for a few fleeting seconds before turning back to the board.

taking notes and focusing on the professor’s voice keeps you occupied most of the time, the pen in your hand and the blue ink on your paper a constant reminder of the person sitting right beside you.

he doesn’t look like anyone you’d ever met before in your life.

sure, you’d had crushes on people from your school back home but that was only because they were nice to you. they weren’t like the majority who made fun of anyone who wasn’t like them - cool and popular and had an interest in going to parties and being social.

there was never anyone who looked like him though, so strikingly attractive and cool even though he’d only said four words to you; maybe this is just showing your inexperience, falling in love at first sight with a person who just gave you a pen and has a pretty face.

“alright we’ll wrap up here. i’ll see you guys next time!”

your professor’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, the rustling of people all around you bringing you back to reality.

you close your book and put the cap back on the pen, grateful you were too distracted by your thoughts to chew it absentmindedly - you probably would’ve had to drop the class if you had to give him back a chewed up, slightly wet pen cap.

you look next to you to see the boy is tucking two books under his arm, about to get up and leave for the day before your lowly spoken voice stops him.

“wait,” you say, quiet but abrupt as he turns around to look at you.

his eyes are soft and glinted with a certain type of amusement, one you can’t quite make out or have the ability to try and determine right now. you can only hold out his pen dumbly, your stare on him blank despite the slight flush to your cheeks.

it only deepens when he holds your gaze, eyes roaming your face before a smile crosses his face and make your heart jump inside your chest.

“it’s okay, keep it,” he says, nodding his head toward your bag.

“oh... are you sure?” you squeak out, “i don’t wanna leave you without an extra pen.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, everything about him, his presence, his laugh, his face making you grow even more out of sorts.

“i’ve got more, don’t worry.”

“oh. well, thank you!” you smile softly, tucking the pen in the pocket of your sweater. “i’ll be sure not to lose it.”

“cool,” he chuckles out, the sweet smile on his face causing yours to widen. “i’m yeosang.”

“y/n,” you introduce sweetly, a lingering silence between you two full of soft smiles and wandering eyes; you aren’t aware of that feeling hanging in the air, something so obvious and palpable when two people are immediately attracted to one another, but he feels it.

he felt it in the way he’d sneak glances at you, your brows furrowed as you took notes or the far away look in your eye when you dazed off with your cheek on your hand.

he didn’t know why he was immediately drawn to you, maybe something about your wide-eyed looks or sweet vanilla scent, but he was sure of two things: he needed to know your name and he had to get here early next class to get the same seat next to you.

november - freshmen year

it took yeosang two months to ask you out.

it proved to be one of the more challenging things he’d done within these past two months of school - not because he was nervous or thought you weren’t interested but because getting you to open up was incredibly trying.

he knew you were interested though, if the way you alcoholism when you saw him or continued to sit next to him was any indication of that.

you learned within the first few weeks of class that he was a freshmen like you, had an older sister who also went to this school and planned with his seven high school friends to all attend college together.

“that’s... kind of crazy,” you giggled, a smile on yeosang’s face hearing your laugh ring through the classroom.

the professor was running a few minutes late, leaving you and him and all your other classmates to chat amongst yourselves.

“do you live together?”

“unfortunately,” he says, the pain in his voice causing you to muffle another giggle into your hand. “i love them, don’t get me wrong, but it’s like... constant chaos. and the house is always mess. it’s a miracle that i won rock, paper, scissors for a single room.”

“well that’s good then,” you say with a smile. “i have a single dorm here, too, actually.”

“oh?” he says, head cocked to the side questioningly. “did you wait too long to apply?”

“oh no, i actually... requested it,” you tell him quietly, a slight blush on your cheeks as you explain yourself. “i do better with my own space. i don’t know if i could be around someone, like, all the time. especially if they had different habits than i did.”

“i get that, completely,” yeosang says, a shudder going through him at the mere thought of some of his roommate’s different habits.

like how wooyoung rarely throws out leftover food before putting it in the sick, leaving disgusting, soggy food out that results in all of them gagging and screaming at him.

or how mingi insists on showering in the late hours of the night, the sound of water and pipes squealing ripping him from his slumber.

or, one of his personal favorites, how hongjoong must always have three pairs of shoes stacked on top of the shoe rack - no more, no less, or he says it throws off the rack’s equilibrium and sends him into a frenzy.

“but doesn’t it get lonely?” he asks, “what do you on weekends and stuff?”

“homework, sleep, sometimes go to a coffee shop and do more work,” you shrug, never realizing how much of a reclusive loser you seem to be until this very moment. “i’ve met a few girls from my classes but our project ended a few weeks ago.”

you felt the need to throw that in there, just so he knows you do in fact see other people from time to time.

“well you should come to one of our parties,” yeosang says with a smile.

“my sister’s friend always throws them at his house. they’re fun and don’t get too sloppy since it’s not people our age trying to catch up on the full college experience.”

dread pools in the pit of your stomach at the word party, not being able to picture anything worse than standing in a overcrowded house being surrounded by sweaty, drunk bodies and the stench of alcohol.

but that sounds far too harsh to say to yeosang, instead giving him a small sympathetic smile as you shrug your shoulders.

“i don’t know, i’m not much of a party person,” you confess quietly.

“oh, c’mon,” yeosang whines slightly, swinging his chair to face you playfully.

there’s a glint of something in his eyes, like he’d be fully prepared to beg and plead with you just to see you outside of the classroom or library.

“it’ll be fun! we’ll be able to hang out without finding our voice and engaging the audience.”

you giggle at the words that have left your professor’s mouth about seven hundred times this semester, cocking your head to the side as you looked at him pleadingly.

partially because, if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re gonna crack.

“i don’t go to parties much,” you tell him, a soft sympathetic frown on your face.

you really don’t wanna reject him. you wanna hang out with him outside of this class and school and engaging the audience but why does it have to be in that type of setting?

but it’s not like you can suggest any other setting.

because then it’ll seem like you’re asking him out on a date and that is something you definitely can’t do.

“why? are you scared?” yeosang teases, his eyebrow quirking up along with the smirk on his lips. “i’ll be with you the whole time. you can even meet my friends, they’ll be on their best behavior for you.”

you’ll never get used to the way he says your name. the way his deep voice makes it sound and how butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“yeosang...” you drag out in a slight whine, feeling bad at how eager he’s becoming and how much you really don’t wanna go. but you wanna go for him. you really, really do.

his smile widens at hearing you say his name, the sound of it falling from your pretty lips never failing to give him the same reaction. he wants to hear you say it more, in every way, in every setting, where people and his friends see that you’re comfortable with him.

“please, y/n?” he asks, his face leaning closer to yours.

your faces are mere inches apart, unaware to everyone else in the room sleeping on the tables or texting on their phones.

his eyes are roaming every bit of your face, lips quirked up in a smile that has your eyes falling down to his lips before back to his glinted eyes.

“for me,” he hums lowly, his smile turning to a smirk when he notices you swallow nervously.

“i really wanna hang out with you,” he says, his voice just above a whisper as he speaks to you and only you. “if you hate it that much, we’ll leave and do something else. but i want us to try. i want you to meet my friends and just have fun for a night with me.”

you let out a sigh, the air between you thick and charged as his eyes become more and more hopeful.

“i won’t leave you once. not even to pee.”

you narrow your eyes at him, pushing him back playfully and ignoring the hard muscle under your hand.

“i don’t wanna hang out with you if you’re gonna piss your pants.”

his deep chuckle booms through the room, waking a few students angrily while grabbing the attention of others. but he can only shake his head at you, eyes falling to your lips when he sees you press your teeth into the soft looking skin.

“then it’s a deal. as long as you’re there, i won’t piss my pants. how does that sound?”

you first met park seonghwa at that party on a friday night.

he was just in the midst of the many introductions and first impressions of yeosang’s seven roommates, sealing his fate as yeosang’s incredibly handsome but standoffish best friend.

you were more so focused on how handsome and happy the black-haired was to see you anyway, a smile lighting up his face the second he saw you emerge from your car.

driving yourself was a sure fire way to not drink and get shit faced, release your ever present desire and crush on yeosang in the form of a sloppy drunken kiss and embarrassing, stuttered confession.

“hey guys, this is y/n,” yeosang said, his hand guiding you by the small of your back. “the girl from my class, who-”

“you haven’t stopped talking about? yeah, we figured,” the friend he introduced as wooyoung chirps, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “you’re just as pretty as he said, y/n. do you want a drink?”

you can barely respond to the happy, chipper boy next to you, too distracted by his words and the pink flush creeping up on your cheeks.

“i... uh... no thank you,” you finally stutter out, an awkward giggle leaving your mouth. “i drove myself here so i can’t drink.”

“now why the hell would you do that!” wooyoung yelps, throwing you an incredulous look before punching yeosang in the arm.

“um, ow?!” yeosang says, a smile pulling at your lips at the sound of his voice.

“why would you invite her and not offer her a ride, you sick fuck? now she can’t drink and have fun.”

“i’ll still have fun,” you reassure wooyoung with a sweet smile. “i don’t drink much anyway. or come to parties, for that matter, so this is all gonna be a new experience.”

“oh shit, seonghwa, you hear that?” wooyoung says, nodding his head toward the dirty blonde with a sour look on his face. “she’s a recluse, too.”

“don’t call her that,” yeosang snips at the same time seonghwa says “don’t call me that.”

wooyoung only rolls his eyes before promptly getting whisked away to dance by mingi and san, leaving you and the others huddled around the couch and side table littered with their beers.

“i’m sorry about him,” yeosang says, breathless and defeated in a way only his oldest friend can make him. “he has no filter or knowledge of boundaries.”

“it’s okay, i like him,” you smile, your eyes meeting his and causing your heart to jump.

he looks better than he usual does if that’s even possible, his black hair hanging low and the faint smell of his shampoo wafting in your nose.

he’s wearing the same soft and sweet but amused expression he always has, the strangest mix of someone who looks like they’d be complete trouble but also someone you could bring home to your parents.

“then you’d be the only one,” yeosang chuckles out, the black-haired turning his head to his friend sitting on the couch. “right, hwa?”

“right,” the man’s deep voice booms, your eyes meeting at the same time.

he’s just as striking as seonghwa but not in such a boyish way. there’s a deep, brooding intensity to him that scares you ever so slightly, like he’s just as hard and cold as his expression says.

“do you wanna go meet the others?” yeosang asks, ripping your gaze away from seonghwa. “i think hongjoong and jongho are around here somewhere.”

“oh- sure,” you smile, looking back to seonghwa to see his eyes already on you. “nice meeting you, seonghwa.”

he hums a response before lifting the beer bottle to his mouth, legs spread and neck rolling to the side as if to deter anyone from sitting near him.

yeosang’s hand finds its way to the small of your back again, the warmth seeping through your shirt and making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“don’t mind seonghwa, he’s a grouch at these,” yeosang says, a small giggle leaving your mouth as you look back at him.

“he seemed nice,” you assure him quietly, your face way closer to his than you anticipated. you can almost feel his minty breath on your skin, warmth all around you as he guides you carefully.

“they all do.”

“good,” yeosang smiles, his thumb rubbing along your back before stopping you in front of two boys playing beer pong.

“you fucking idiot! you suck!”

“fuck off, this is my first time and i’ve gotten more than you!”

you and yeosang share a look of amusement before he clears his throat, the taller boy’s head snapping toward you both. his eyes light up in some sort of recognition, dropping the white ping pong ball and ignoring the way it bounces onto the floor.

“getting your ass handed to you, i see,” yeosang quips, jongho rolling his eyes before holding his hand out to you.

“i’m jongho, yeosang’s coolest and most talented friend.”

a smile lights up your face despite the more crowded and loud area, taking your hand in jongho’s as you introduced yourself.

“you guys are in the same class, right? tell me, how much does yeosang hit his head falling asl-”

“hey, yeosang!”

all of you crane your heads toward the new voice, a group of guys with red, glassy eyes and shaggy hair looking at yeosang expectantly. you don’t recognize them from any of your classes or around campus, figuring they’re older seniors or friend’s of his sister.

“we’re gonna smoke in the back? you wanna come?”

you’re all too aware of the hand on your back moving to your waist, squeezing your hip lightly in a way that’s oddly reassuring in the moment. like he knows this area is louder and more crowded and making you ready to bolt.

you’re only not because he’s next to you and his friends seem incredibly happy to meet you.

“nah, i’m good,” his deep voice reassures.

you watch the boy’s gaze shift from yeosang to you, eyeing your body up and down before it lands on your hips. a smirk crosses his face and he nods his head, an amused “ahh, okay,” leaving his mouth.

there’s an immature and embarrassing chorus of “oohs” and “ahh,” like the grown college men are actually in a class of immature elementary schoolers who just got in trouble.

yeosang only rolls his eyes and flips them off, your eyes widening just as he turns to you with a soft smile.

“my sister’s friends. they’re cool, just stupid as shit.”

you bite down on your lip so you don’t burst out laughing, giving him a small nod that makes his smile widen.

“you wanna try playing beer pong?” he asks, “i’ll drink your beers so you can’t use that excuse.”

your eyes narrow as you pinch him arm gently, his arm knocking into yours as he narrows his in return.

“fine,” you say, “but i’m gonna be bad. i’ve never played before.”

“jongho plays every weekend and is still terrible,” hongjoong says, patting you on the shoulder reassuringly. “so it’s fine.”

“i’m not terrible!”

but come to find out, after nearly three rounds, he was pretty terrible. either he was pretty terrible or you were the fastest learner in beer pong history at this institute.

“you’re gonna be bad?” yeosang mocks with a smirk, your hands awkwardly bumping as you walk around the block.

the house had gotten far too stuffy and crowded after the second round, the noise growing louder and bodies growing closer to you in a way that made you incredibly nervous.

it was fun at first, even you can admit that. but once it got too loud, your discomfort started to show itself.

your wandering eyes, your teeth in your lip, the way you were no longer laughing or high-anniversary hongjoong despite being on different teams. yeosang had caught on immediately, deeming the third game your last before you took a break outside.

the cold air was refreshing and just what you needed but yeosang’s warm body next to you is nice too. the way your cold hand grazes his warm one, the way you’ll look at him any time it happens and catch him already staring at you.

the way, if it wasn’t for him pushing you out of your comfort zone, you would’ve never gone to an unfamiliar party or played a round (or three) of drinking games.

“i didn’t expect to be good, if you could believe that,” you giggle softly, biting down on your lip as you watch your feet. they’d almost be in sync, if you weren’t a naturally fast walker and yeosang had a slower, smoother swagger of a walk.

“i don’t know if i can,” he says, his voice teasing and light as you walk in the darkness. “beginners luck maybe but it seemed like more.”

“well i’ll probably never do it again so i’m glad we discovered this tonight,” you say quietly, a small giggle leaving your mouth.

lost in the way your heart is pounding and butterflies are in your stomach, you don’t realize yeosang isn’t walking until he pulls you by the elbow gently. your back hits in front softly, your eyebrows furrowing as you turn to look at him.

you’re greeted by a look of mock hurt, yeosang’s eyes staring down at you causing another small smile to grace your face.

“what?”

“i thought you’d come back next week,” he says, voice so soft and sweet it makes the butterflies act up even more; he shouldn’t sound like this when he can also sound so scary and intimidating, the deep tone of his voice never failing to send your cheeks blazing.

“we had fun, no? i really like hanging out with you, y/n.”

for a moment you think you ruined something that barely started to build between you two. that the fleeting look of interest in his eye is gonna be shot to hell because he thinks you’re rejecting him in some way.

but you like him.

you really like him and you really like hanging out with him - you just don’t wanna do it in such a...crowded setting.

“i liked it, too, yeosang,” you confess immediately, faintly aware of his fingers toying with yours. “but... parties aren’t my thing. it got too crowded and i just get uncomfortable but i really liked hanging out with you.”

now he’s gonna think you’re stupid. silly and stupid and, quite frankly, weird that you can’t be in a normal setting for college students. maybe you should’ve just pushed through it, maybe you should’ve just-

“so no parties next time?” he asks, the hand toying with your fingers finally fully grasping your hand. the move makes your heart jump in your chest, the perfect fit of warmth and strength in your hand making you bite back a smile.

it doesn’t stop the blush from crossing your face, though, beyond grateful for the darkness in the sky right now.

“we can just hang out us, too. see a movie, go to dinner, whatever you wanna do.”

“so like a date?”

you don’t know why you blurt that out but you’re beyond embarrassed when you realize you do, your eyes growing wide and face heating even more; if the ground swallowed you up right now, you wouldn’t even mind.

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth and it only makes you more embarrassed, your gaze dropping and head falling ever so slightly.

he crouches so he’s staring up at you, a teasing smile on his face that brings a frown to your lips.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know why i-”

“yes, a date,” he says, successfully cutting you off as he rises to his full height and lifts your face to look at him. his finger’s resting under your chin and he’s standing even closer to you, eyes roaming you in such a way that makes you stare back dumbly.

“let me take you on a date. how does tomorrow sound?”

your eyes roam his for a few silent seconds, half because you’re in shock and half because you’re still embarrassed, until you realize he’s standing there awaitingly.

eyebrow quirked cockily and eyes full of amusement, like he somehow already knows you’re not gonna say no to him.

“i... tomorrow’s good,” you finally say, not being able to help the big smile that crosses your face.

the sight causes his heart to lift in his own chest, leaning down to press a soft and surprising kiss to your cheek. it’s simple and chaste and sweet but it makes every bit of you feel even more warm and happy, excitement bubbling inside you as he pulls back and interlaces your fingers together.

dinner and a movie turned into a very impromptu trip to the store for blankets, food and a picnic basket.

the restaurant yeosang planned on taking you to, a new italian restaurant in the center of town, had a two hour wait and the new romcom that followed was sold out for the night, leaving you and yeosang in his car trying to come up with a new course of action.

you insisted that you didn’t care what you did, that you could just go back to your dorm or his apartment and order take out or watch a movie there.

but he noticed you looking at the sky absentmindedly, a far away, fascinated look in your eye at the few visible stars and had an idea of his own.

he refused to tell you what you guys were shopping for, just that you’d see when you got there and could guess as you went along. it had all been so strangely intimate and domestic, yeosang pushing the cart as you threw things in after looking at him pleadingly.

“y/n, i told you to buy the whole damn store if you want. you don’t have to look at me like that over a box of cookies.”

you narrowed your eyes, insisting you will absolutely not do that.

“i just don’t know why you’re not letting me pay for anything. not even gas,” you whine.

he rolls his eyes silently as he pushes the cart along, a smile pulling at his lips as he walks past you.

“and you haven’t even told me what we’re doing!” you yelp after him, running after him like a child who doesn’t wanna lose their parent. he cranes his neck back as he raises an eyebrow, ushering you along to “find out what his genius plan is.”

when he goes down the bedding aisle telling you to pick out the fluffiest blanket, you look at him with suspicion all over your face. a smile pulls at his lips as he ushers you over himself, his hand lingering on your waist.

“this is the nice kind,” you tell him, a happy smile on your face even though it’s white and could very well be stained and destroyed.

“then put it in, pretty girl,” he says lowly, a squeal threatening to leave you as as butterflies erupt in your stomach. a smirk crosses his lips when he sees you get flustered, tightening his hold on your waist for a moment before dropping it entirely.

his real course of action starts when you guys are done shopping, fruits and cookies and crackers stocked in the cart along with a hidden gem he snuck under the cart tray.

it’s by a stroke of luck that, when you guys pass the bathrooms, you ask if it’s okay if you run in there quickly. he tells you to meet him in self check-out as he pays, hauling ass to the register and sticking all the items in a reusable bag.

you come out with a sympathetic smile, asking him for the tenth time if you could please give him some money for tonight’s date.

“absolutely not,” he insists, grabbing your hand so naturally, it’s like you guys have done this for longer than two days. “it didn’t go the way i intended so i have to make it up to you.”

“no you don’t,” you whine quietly, looking up at him as a biting gust of winds sends you shivering. “this is fun, too. you’re just nice to be around.”

a smile lights up his face as he peeks down at you, his hold on you tightening before you quickly reach his car.

you ask where you guys are going for half the ride, a mischievous and coy smile on your face as you beg him to tell you where you’re going and what you’re doing.

you face him the entire time you do so, your fingers toying with his on the middle console. he doesn’t give you any hints but makes sure to keep his hand in yours, soft, sweet chuckles leaving his mouth when you let out more whines and groans.

“just a little longer,” he insists, the warmth of the car and his hand causing your head to rest on the seat.

it’s all very comfortable and calm, the quiet hum of his car nearly lulling you to sleep until you feel the car stop.

your head pops up and your eyes widen when you see you’re down by the beach, about an hour from your town and causing your eyes to gape at him - he just drove this far for the beach in the middle of november.

“the beach?” you ask, a confused smile tugging at your lips. you love it here and you’re certainly not mad, you spend most days in the summer down here, but you guys definitely can’t go in the ocean right now.

“yup,” he says simply, turning off the car before silently getting out. you watch him through the window as he opens the back door, carefully taking out the bag full of food and blankets before making his way to your side.

you send him a smile when he opens your door and extends his hand, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth as you take his hand. he interlaces your fingers and your hands swing between you two, the chill from the ocean biting and cold but also slightly refreshing from the car’s heat.

“so...” you say once you two stop on the sand, the grains lumpy under your sneakers. you’ve never seen the beach this dark and desolate and it would absolutely unnerve you if yeosang wasn’t beside you. “what exactly are we doing here?”

“you mean you don’t wanna swim?”

your expression causes him to chuckle, disconnecting your hands to lay out a blanket on the sand. your next expression, however, warms his heart more than he’s ever felt before.

your eyes widen as they look at him, a surprised and excited gasp leaving as he pulls out a medium-sized picnic basket.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.”

you look up to see the soft smile he’s sending your way, his hand reaching out to cup your cold, red cheek. his thumb rubs over the cold skin for a few seconds, like he’s testing the waters to see if this is too much too soon.

the way you lean into him makes his heart start to pound just a little bit, his head cocked to the side as his eyes roam your face - you look so pretty, even with early signs of windburn.

“of course, pretty,” he mumbles quietly, that word again causing the butterflies to return. “thank you for coming on this date with me.”

you eat your sandwiches and fruit huddled under a blanket together, him wiping a crumb from your face and you throwing a stray piece of cheese at him when he calls you messy.

it’s all very tranquil and comfortable, like you guys have known each other for longer than two months. it’s still just enough time to still be unsure though, if your touches are too much or the way you’re looking at each other is setting yourselves up to be hurt.

you couldn’t care about any of that right now, though, laying down on the blanket and looking up at the sky with yeosang by your side.

you started off close, arms brushing before they eventually stayed glue to each other, and now you’re even closer. your head is just mere inches from resting on his chest, a shiver running through you that acts as the catalyst of him pulling you closer to him.

“c’mere” he mumbled lowly, your body immediately moving closer to hm until his warmth and woodsy scent surrounds you. you smile into his sweater, toying with the ends before his large, veiny hands covers your smaller, cold one.

“this was a really smooth idea, you know,” you say after a few moments of silence, eyes threatening to closer and body relaxing if you continue to lay here in the most comfortable silence of your life.

“oh?” he says, hearing the smile in his voice.

“yeah,” you say, tentatively turning to look up at him. there’s a look in his eye that makes you feel comfortable enough to rest your chin on his chest, your eyes briefly falling to his lips. “i think this was better than dinner and a movie. the stars are really pretty.”

a small smile grace his face as he looks at you, hand reaching up to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. all of his moves and touches tonight have been slow and gentle, like you’re a piece of glass he has to be fragile with.  

you’ve never been treated like that before and it makes your heart flutter, the sweet look in his palpable even in the darkness.

“they are,” he mumbles, his eyes not leaving you as his hand gently moves down your face.

your skin is smooth and cold and he doesn’t think he ever wants this moment to end. the closeness, the wide-eyed look you’re giving him, the way he feels so content and at ease, it’s like he doesn’t know how he lived peacefully before this.

“when’s our next date gonna be?”

a smile lights up your face as a cute giggle leaves your mouth, his hand on your chin constricting your movements ever so slightly.

“this one isn’t even over,” you tease lightly, eyebrows raising playfully. “what if when it ends, you don’t wanna see me again?”

“and why would that happen?” yeosang asks curiously, genuinely confused and positive that that wouldn’t be the case. because as he pulls your face a tad closer to him, your amused expression dropping to one of a surprise, he’s certain of two things.

he’ll never get tired of seeing you and he wants to kiss you right now.

“because, right now,” he starts again, voice low and deep that effects every part of your body. “i wanna kiss you more than anything. and then make sure i see you soon, as soon as possible, really, so i can do it again.”

you swallow nervously as you look at him wide-eyed, the confidence and sureness in his words causing your eyes to drop to his lips again.

you meet in a kiss half way that’s just as gentle and sweet as it is fulfilling. it’s a kiss that shows it’s your first time kissing each other but that’s what makes it so nice for both of you.

it’s slow and chaste but everything about it is pure. there’s no other intention than just kissing, testing out and acting on the attraction that was building the moment you saw each other.

he moves you on your back gently to hover over you more comfortable, your eyes closed as your arms wound around his neck. he doesn’t even make a move to deepen the kiss in any way, his tongue barely flicking out to trace the outline of your lips.

it’s then you pull back breathless, looking at him above you with flushed cheeks and a heaving chest.

“i... i want that, too,” you admit quietly after a few seconds, his eyes on you and yours on him.

because you wanna see him again, you wanna see more of his smile and hear more of his laugh and get to know the boy who briefly his way into your heart and mind so quickly.

“good,” he mumbles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek before pecking the other one with a smile. “that makes me happy.”

you wanna kiss him again but he flops back down beside you before you can daringly initiate one, pulling you atop his chest again as he wraps his arm around you.

it takes everything in you not to fall asleep right there and then, feeling so comfortable and safe beside him, you’re excited to see how your next date is gonna go with him.

febuary - freshmen year

your second date turned into many more, becoming more comfortable and familiar with each other until, one night, he finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

it wasn’t anything grand, just after a night of late night drives and fast food run. your feet were up on the dash and you fed him salty, fattening fries with the moon as your witness.

he looked over at you occasionally, watching as you sipped from your drink or took a bite of your sandwich and realized in that moment, he needed you to be his.

officially.

because as far as he was considered, you were his and he was yours after your first date stargazing.

“y/n?” you hear him say, your mouth still connected to the straw as you guzzle down your soda. you move your gaze to see him looking at you, nervously swallowing your drink as your eyebrows pull together.

“what?” you ask, immediately wiping at your face and mouth. “is there something on my face?”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he shakes his head, eyes roaming you for a few more seconds before his hand is resting on your face. the movement causes your heart to stutter, eyes widening and heart starting to pound.

you hope he can’t hear it. you think there’s about a 40% chance that he does and those odds are way too high for you.

“i like you,” he says.

the confession is short and sweet and everything about it is genuine. the way his voice drops and he’s looking at you with such a soft fondness, you can’t find the words to respond.

“i really like you, y/n,” he mumbles, his thumb slowly caressing the side of your face.

every stroke of his finger makes your heart pound more and more, your eyes looking up at him with a palpable look of, both, fear and fondness. because you like him, too. you really, really like him but that scares you a little.

so does the way he’s looking at you, touching you so softly and sweetly and not tearing his gaze away from you.

“i want you to be mine,” he finally says, breaking the silence in the car. “will you be my girlfriend?”

his friends took the news of your relationship just as you expected, excited and overwhelmingly supportive, with a few lingering eyes that went unnoticed by everyone.

but that’s because he made sure to keep it that way.

you didn’t go to yeosang’s often but when you did, you made sure to talk and hang out with each and every one of them. some of them were crazier and chattier than others but you found it all very endearing - no matter how overwhelmed and scared it made you.

seonghwa was the only one who seemed to be on your level, able to sit in a room and observe without saying much unless directly spoken to.

you haven’t talked to the handsome boy a lot, just casual greetings and goodbyes, but you just knew you were intimidated by him. he always held such a stern, hard expression on his face, dignified and serious in a way that just didn’t seem to match the group.

the only times you’d see him crack a smile when the boys would start brawling or hongjoong said a corny, uncharacteristic joke.

he did’t make you feel uncomfortable or unwanted though, he always said hi and always made you feel welcomed by making extra food for you or automatically setting an extra spot for you.

it was subtle but it was nice, always making you feel just a little more welcomed by yeosang’s friends - but when valentine’s day came, yeosang did everything in his power to let his roommates know they were not welcomed in their own home for the night.

“what?!” wooyoung screeched when hongjoong broke the news to them. “where the hell are we supposed to go on valentine’s day as seven single losers?! and then get a hotel?! are you nuts?”

yeosang only stared blankly at the boy as groans of protest were heard from the others, grumbles of “who said i’m single?” and “i’m not a loser,” throughout the  apartment.

“when did i say you could never come home you dramatic fuck?” yeosang sneered, “i just asked for a few hours!”

he had been tormenting himself for weeks about what to do for valentine’s day  with you. you insisted over and over again that, really truly, you didn’t want to do anything.

but he thought you deserved it and he’d never actually had a girlfriend during this god forsaken holiday - he had to try it at least once and what better time than with someone like you?

“that might be the problem though,” seonghwa said to him one night, after hearing his friend carry on for hours and hours.

yeosang looked to his friend on the couch with a confused expression, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes.

“she doesn’t like crowds or loud noises. you think it’s really a good idea to bring her out to a restaurant or public place on valentine’s day?”

naturally an extrovert, yeosang would’ve never thought that to be an overwhelming or distasteful prospect. the booming voices of people and laugher and music was something he’d loved all his life but, seonghwa’s right, you don’t like that.

you didn’t like it at the party and you don’t like it here. you don’t like when a restaurant or movie theater is too crowded, always choosing an area that’s more secluded and quiet.

“shit, you’re so right, hwa,” yeosang says, slapping his friend on the arm gratefully. “maybe i’ll just make her dinner here. we can stay in, that’ll be nice, right?”

seonghwa gives a disinterested shrug and yeosang can see he lost his friend already, wondering how the dirty blonde even knew that until he remembers, he’s the same way.

avoids crowds and big outings like the plague, only humoring them because they’d all annoy the shit out of him if he didn’t. and he thinks if seonghwa had a valentine, he’d wanna do the same thing with them.

“okay, okay, okay,” wooyoung says, the only one of the seven that had shit to say per usual. “we will go out and get shit faced if you insist. cry about our sad single lives and the fact we’re not loved this year. but... i ask that you save some left over food and buy us at least two drinks.”

hongjoong knew to rush the boys out of the apartment in a timely fashion after that, already seeing in his mind the brawl that wold ensue between yeosang and wooyoung - and once that happens, everyone else will pick sides and create more chaos.

it leaves yeosang with a little over two hours to prepare the house and dinner, lighting a candle and throwing nonsense into any closet that would fit in until the aroma of spices and flavors filled the air.

he told you to come at seven on an empty stomach, that he’d be providing drinks, dinner and dessert and to not even try bringing him a gift the same way you requested; but when you show up at seven on the dot with a cute little pink bag, he sees you did’t listen either.

“baby... i told you i didn’t need anything.”

“and i said the same thing,” you whine, poking him in the stomach lightly as you walk through the apartment.

it’s the most spotless you’d ever seen the place, a soft touched smile on your face as you picture him scrambling to clean and get the boys out.

“you even cleaned.”

“please, i made the boys do it before i kicked them out.”

“yeosang!” you squeal, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend of two months. “you didn’t have to do that!”

“believe me, i did,” he assures, pulling you by the hand to the table set for two. he pulls out your chair and you bite back a smile, mumbling a quiet “thank you,” as you watch him prepare two plates of food.

the idea of this always embarrassed you, a cheesy romantic dinner with candles and chivalry and a boyfriend who looks at you so lovingly. but now that you’re here, you know you’ve never felt this happy before.

that seeing him do this for you and only you is one of best feelings in the world; you’re still not crazy about valentine’s day, you find it all very cheesy and dramatic, but you think it just has to do with the fact that you’re with yeosang is why you’re so happy and touched tonight.

“this is good,” you hum through a mouth full a food, a smirk on his face as he reaches over to dap at your messy lips.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you answer through narrowed eyes, yeosang’s deep melodic laugh quickly melting your annoyed expression way.

“you look pretty.”

your brows pull together in confusion, slurping noodles into your mouth at the exact moment he says that.

you look down at your outfit in contemplation, a simple comfortable outfit you were excited to wear when he asked if you wanted to stay in for valentine’s day.

you were shocked when that was the plan he came up with, knowing that yeosang enjoys going out and socializing every day and night; but that’s what happens when you’re good at it. when you’re so charismatic and joyful and just so naturally draw people into you.

he asked if you wanted to go to dinner or a movie or do a crazier type of date but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no. just told him he can plan it and you’ll go along with whatever he wants.

you ended up getting a text from him asking if you just wanted to stay in. that he’d cook for you and you guys could just hang out and watch movies as long as they weren’t cheesy romantic comedies.

“why do you look so surprised?” he chuckles, ripping you from your thoughts as a small, shy smiles finally rises on your face - you don’t feel very pretty, in fact, you thought you actually looked kind of sloppy.

“i don’t know,” you mumble, a blush creeping up on your face as you twirl your noodles.

you feel his gaze boring into your face, pressing your lips together before finally raising your eyes to him.

“what!” you squeal, face heating up even more in a way that causes a deep, melodic chuckle to leave yeosang.

“you’re cute, that’s what,” he says, eyes roaming your face before they fall on the small, pink gift next to you. “and it’s because you’re cute i’m not mad you got me that.”

you follow his eyes to the bag by your elbow, huffing as you meet his mock harsh gaze.

“how could i not get you something?” you whine. “you never let me buy anything ever! and you made all of this food.”

he watches as you slurp up the last of your food, smiling gratefully at him before standing up from your chair. you take the bag next to you and pad over to him shyly, holding out your hand awaitingly.

he looks at it before meeting your gaze, eyebrow quirked with a smile pulling at his lips.

“what?”

“i wanna give it to you before i do this dishes.”

“like fuck.”

your eyes widen as a laugh bubbles out of your mouth, smacking him in the arm lightly before he loops an arm around your waist. you fall into him with a squeal, your heart stuttering when you’re suddenly in his lap and he’s smiling down at you.

“i- it’s only fair,” you manage to stutter out, feeling silly for being flustered over being in his lap. “you cooked all of this for us.”

there’s a pout on your lips that he can’t help but notice, next to the wide-eyed innocent shock that’s always behind your eyes.

when he pulls you in his lap the same way he did now, watching you shift and move on him in ways he doesn’t think you realize what you’re doing.

when make out sessions turn more intense, his lips trailing down your neck and his hands squeezing your hips that has tiny, small pants leaving your mouth.

when he gets more bold and tells you all the things he wants to do to you when you’re ready, lowly mumbled in your ear so he can pull back and see just how red and lustful you are at the thought of his head between your legs.

he didn’t wanna rush any part of your relationship in that regard.

one because he liked you, he really, really liked you and it wasn’t about that for him, and two because he just knew you hadn’t done much before and didn’t want you to feel pressured in any way.

it didn’t stop his own desires from surfacing. from him getting hard with you on top of him and jerking off to the thought of you when you two would part ways.

it’s feelings he’s trying to push down right now, your wide-eyed look staring at him as a soft, sweet smile pulls at his lips.

“and i’ll clean it for us, too,” he mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist loosely before his eyes move to the bag - the disdain in which he looks at it could only be described as incredibly dramatic.

“once you see what it is, you’re gonna feel bad for looking at it so meanly,” you say with a swat to his chest, dangling the bag in front of his face.

his interest is peeked, a mischievous look behind his eyes that makes your cheeks flame. a soft chuckle leaves his mouth as he takes the bag from your hand, carefully taking out the festive pink and red wrapping paper.

the first thing he feels is cool metal, his hesitant gaze move toward you only to be met with a soft, encouraging smile. he rolls his eyes playfully, unveiling the gift that has his heart jumping in his chest.

it’s a framed photo of you two he’s never seen before, you smiling at the camera and him smiling at you as his arm rests around your shoulder.

he recognizes it from one of the parties he took you to a few weeks ago, the pretty red dress you wore with black tights under leaving him unable to tear his eyes away from you all night.

there’s even picture proof right in front of him, his gaze so soft and sweet on you he feels the slightest hint of an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

“you looked so pretty that night,” he mumbles lowly, a low, short chuckle leaving his mouth that has your stomach swooping dangerously. “who took this picture?”

“who do you think?” you quip sarcastically, remembering half the night you were hiding from one particular friend with black hair and a high-pitched laugh.

“wooyoung’s stupid ass,” yeosang grumbles, his finger sliding over the cool metal of the frame.

he has a lot of pictures of loved ones and likes documenting moments with family, friends, even the people he meets once but has a great experience with. but this picture is by far his favorite, the way a smile is stretched across your face and how comfortable you look beside him.

“thank you, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i love it, my new favorite picture.”

“i wrote something on the back, too,” you tell him sweetly, cheeks warm as you watch his eyebrows pull together.

he looks at you for a few moments, smiling when your lips quirk up and you nod your head encouragingly.

when he flips it over, he sees your neat handwriting in red ink with i’s darted with hearts.

i really like you, too :) happy valentine’s day ♥

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth, cheeks turning pink as he throws his head back and looks at you fondly.

“i never said anything after you asked me out because i was too nervous and shocked,” you tell him honestly, his smile widening as he watches you speak. “so i just wanted to assure you.”

“thank you, baby,” he laughs out, placing the picture down and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. “i’m glad you’re letting me know two months into this that you do in fact like me.”

a squeal of protest and defense tries to leave your mouth before he shakes his head, cutting you off with a kiss to your lips that you immediately meet. it’s chaste despite the way you’re in his lap, your mouths parting and his tongue licking along your bottom lip.

“your turn for a gift,” he says when he pulls back, both of you slightly breathless. “go wait on the couch.”

“but i wanna do the-”

“i’m just gonna stick them in the dish washer,” he tells you, the look in his eye proving you’re not gonna win this conversation. “just find something for us to watch, okay?”

you stare at him for a few seconds, his gaze and face unwavering causing you to let out a groan and jump off his lap. he smirks to himself as he begins to clean off the table, watching you pad over the couch to turn on the tv.

you seem comfortable in his house.

you look like you belong there and that makes his heart pound in his chest the whole time he puts the dirty dishes away.

he sneaks into his room to grab your gift before joining you, plopping down on the couch next to you and causing a tiny, surprised squeal to leave your mouth.

“you scared me!” you giggle, a quiet “sorry,” leaving his mouth as he starts to  dangle a small white bag in front of your face. your eyebrows pull together as you snap your head to him, a content, almost conniving smirk on his face.

“yeosang...”

“i never said dinner was your gift so stop looking at me like that,” he says, his hand on your cheeks squeezing them together lightly.

your lips are pushed together and pouted and he has to resist the urge to kiss them, your eyes shooting daggers into him the only thing holding him back from doing so.

you take the bag with a small sigh, your eyes softening when he smiles down at you.

your heart nearly drops when you see a small black box wrapped in the white, glittery paper, your wide eyes meeting his that makes him throw his hands up innocently.

“not an engagement ring, don’t worry.”

a snort leaves you as you hit his arm playfully, licking over your lips before opening the box with shaky hands.

the first thing you notice is the amount of diamonds.

small, sparkly diamonds in a crescent moon shape that makes your eyes widen. it’s shining under the faint light of living room, the tv blaring and candles from the table filling the room with the aroma of cotton candy and sugar - courtesy of jongho’s love for festive candles.

“yeosang...”

the gift leaves you just as speechless as it does emotional, tears pricking your eyes because while you love it and you’re so grateful, he didn’t have do this; you didn’t expect any gift from him since he cooked you dinner tonight.

“do you like it?”

“of course i like it, i love it,” you’re quick to say, the feeling in your chest the biggest indication of that. “but i didn’t need this, yeosang. it’s too much.”

“it wasn’t,” he insists with a small, half-amused pout, his hand running through your hair before caressing your cheek gently. he smiles when you lean into his touch, thumb running along your smooth skin.

“i saw it and i thought of you.”

you look from him down at the necklace in your hand, a small smile on your face at the memory.

your arms grazed as you laid out on the blanket together, the cold chill in the air bringing your bodies closer and closer together. neither of you even noticed until the warmth of other’s skin sent shockwaves through you, a blush on your cheeks and a shy smile on his face.

“this was kind of better than dinner and movie i think,” yeosang’s deep voice says, breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over you. you rest your chin on his chest as you look up at him, a small smile on your face as you nod your head.

“i think so too,” you say sweetly, sticking your cold hands under the blanket. “definitely the best first date.”

a soft smile crosses his face, his cold hand cupping your cheek as his gaze roams over your face. the light of the moon is the only source of light tonight, shining in your eyes with a look that’s making his heart pull in his chest.

he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, the fascinated, content look on your face as peered up at the sky. take in the sight of shining stars and the crescent moon and the dark waves crashing on the shore.

it’s a sight that’s gonna remind him of you now. the moon and the stars and the distinct feeling of being content and at ease on the beach at night.

“good,” he says with a sense of finality, pressing a sweet, chaste peck to your lips. he smiles when you meet it back hesitantly, everything about it innocent and slow and just how he wants to pursue you.

“the moon’s gonna remind me of you now so i hope our second date goes well too.”

“our second date went well,” you mumble, toying with the necklace in your hand as you observe the amount of diamonds.

you’re almost uncomfortable at the thought of having something like this around your neck, knowing it was expensive and that you’ve never received a gift like this before.

“it did,” he says, the slightly crestfallen look on your face casing him to frown. “do you not like it? is it cheesy?”

your face falls the second you hear those words, the rapid shaking of your head causing a smile to pull at his lips.

“no! no, no, no, of course not,” you’re quick to reassure, guilt building in the pit of your stomach.

“i love it. i really, really, love it and it’s so beautiful. but i didn’t need a gift like this, yeosang. i feel bad that you got this and i got you a $15 frame with a secret picture.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he rolls his eyes, shutting you up with a kiss to your lips. his hand weaves through your hair and you make a tiny noise against it, clutching the necklace in your hand tightly.

“i wanted to get you it,” he says when he pills back, slightly breathless as he looks down at you.

“it wasn’t about the money. i love that picture and what you wrote on the back,” he teases, your eyes narrowing despite the embarrassed flush on your cheeks. “so don’t feel bad and please accept the gift, baby.”

he must see something in your eyes that shows him he won, a proud smirk on his face as he takes the necklace from your hold and brings it around your neck.

his hands graze your hair before touching the sides of your neck, the feel of his skin on yours causing you to bite down on your lip. his smirk widens as he struggles to clasp the necklace, all nervous feelings subsiding when a small giggle leaves your mouth.

“are you having a tough time?”

“no,” he grumbles, another small giggle leaving your mouth until you’re suddenly pushed down on the couch - necklace successfully on and back pressed up against the cushions.

all laughs and smiles are completely wiped off your face with the pressure of his body on yours, his smirking face above you causing your breath to quicken.

“oh? are you having a tough time now?”

he sounds so cocky and teasing, it should make you narrow your eyes. tease him with just as much of a conniving, wise-ass tone and smug look. but instead, your stomach swoops and your eyes move to his lips and like there’s a break in a dam, your mouths meet in the start of a fervent kiss.

he holds himself above you, tongue slipping in your mouth as he swallows your small, quiet moans. his hand trails itself down the side of your stomach to rest on your hip, the pressure of him and his lips on yours all consuming.

your hand travels to the back of his head, tugging lightly at the strands before a squeal leaves your mouth.

his deep chuckle rings through the quiet apartment as he lifts you up, plopping you down on his lap before connecting your lips again.

it’s the fastest you both have ever moved, your hands toying with the bottom of his shirt while his hands grasp your hips tightly. pulling your body closer to his  and moaning into his mouth when you rub against him a certain way.

you feel him smirk against your lips, pulling back every so slightly to catch the growing hint of lust and desire in your gaze.

“oh? that feel good?”

your cheeks flush at the tone of his voice, swallowing the embarrassed lump in your throat as you nod your head timidly.

“let me know when you wanna stop,” he mumbles, his words kissed along your neck making you sure you never want him to.

your mouths connect again in a fit of tongues meeting and bodies crashing, foreign feelings of arousal coursing through your veins. you guys always took things slow but you were never sure why - if he was doing it for you or if he just didn’t wanna do that step.

but you were secretly even hoping tonight, you’d be able to go further.

that’s why when his hands trail along the bottom of your shirt, warm fingers dipping under to touch your skin, you move into him even more. pulling back to look at him through hooded eyes as you nod your head.

you don’t even have the time to feel apprehensive when you’re sitting there in just a lace bra, exposed and slightly cold with goosebumps on your skin, because yeosang’s quick to assure you.

look at you with a soft, sweet fascination and tell you how beautiful you look for him.

both your shirts hit the living room floor before he’s scooping you up, a surprised squeal leaving your mouth that brings a smile to his face.

he plops you down on the bed shoved in the right corner of the room, clothes littering the floor and a mess of wires near the desk. it’s a little messy but it smells surprisingly clean, like a mix of cologne and yeosang’s natural teakwood scent.

“we don’t have to do this,” he says, his body looming above yours.

because you guys really don’t have to do this, he’d be perfectly content watching movies tonight with an inkling of kissing or touching, but, fuck, does he want to.

he’s wanted to hear you moan and touch you and taste you since you both started dating. since he looked at you under the stars and knew he’d fall for you shortly after.

“i want to,” you confess, a soft blush on your cheeks as you look up at him,

he rolls his tongue over his lips, biting down every so slightly in a way that makes your lower stomach tighten in desire. the look in his eyes is too much, it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before. like he wants to-”

“i want to ruin you,” he mumbles, bending down to press a peck on your neck. “i won’t do it tonight,” he continues, trailing his lips down your chest before bringing his hand to the lace.

his finger traces the red material, sliding one of the straps down before tugging down your bra. his eyes move to your nipple, hardening in the cold air as he feels his cock do the same.

“i’m gonna be slow and gentle and so good to you, baby,” he says, his hot breath fanning over your exposed boob. his lips are so close to touching your skin, the warmth and wetness bringing tingles to your skin.

“i only ask that you moan for me, okay?” he mumbles, his tongue swiping across your nipple causing a choked, strangled gasp to leave you. you feel him smirk against your skin and can’t even be embarrassed by it, just wanting more of him and more of the pleasure he’ll give you.

“doesn’t seem like that’s gonna be a problem though, pretty girl,” he chuckles out, mouth closing around your nipple again as his hands trail down your side.

every sensation seems heightened and overwhelming, completely aware of how heavy your breathing is and the building pit of desire in your stomach. desire that heightens when his hand ghosts past your pants, his middle finger tracing small circles through your leggings.

he can feel your legs widen and a smirk crosses his face, sucking at your nipple once more before pulling back and meeting your lips. you moan at the feeling of his fingers moving quicker, a strangled “yeosang, please,” catching you off guard as much as him.

but it seems to get things in to motion - because your leggings are done and your skin hits the cold air a few moments later, yeosang tugging his shirt over his head before his hands are back on you.

you’re laying beside him, head resting on his bare chest when he slips his hand in your underwear. rubbing quick, skilled circles on your clit as your breathing labors and you whine into the air.

“have you ever been touched like this before, baby?” he mumbles, a shake of your head causing him to stop his movements all together. you whine at the loss of pleasure, looking at him with glossy, confused eyes that makes him hold back a smile.

he likes seeing how desperate you got. how ready and willing and eager you are for him.

“have you ever been touched like this?” he repeats, a croaked whine of “no,” leaving your mouth that makes him smile. continue his blissful strokes on your clit as a finger slowly enters you.

you’re so wet that you welcome the stretch with a moan of pleasure, a deeply grumbled “fuck,” causing your eyes to roll back when he hesitantly adds another.

“you’re so wet, baby. you’re so fucking wet for me.”

you nod dumbly, not being able to find the words as his pointer and middle curl  and he fucks you with his fingers. you moan his name when the pleasure becomes too much, wanting to scream when he suddenly removes his hand from you.

you watch through hooded eyes as he tugs your underwear down with his teeth, his mouth pulled into a smirk until they’re only just past your upper thighs.

because like he’s so eager and can’t wait, like he’s been waiting for this moment since he knew you were gonna be okay with it, he looks down at your bare, soaked pussy with a look of hunger you’ve never seen before.

“let me eat you out,” he says, his words choked out and tone deep and strangled. “please, baby, can i?”

his voice sounds as desperate as you feel and you have to sit up so you can crash your lips on his, the overwhelming need to kiss him coming over you. he meets it back immediately, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and tongues until you pull back and tell me “please.”

his tongue brings you to your first orgasm, your thighs shaking between his head as your hand runs through his black hair desperately.

when his cock springs free, he circles it around your entrance and enters you slowly. sweet, soft spoken words of “it’s okay,” and “you’re doing so good, angel,” that make the whole experience that much better.

you feel full and he feels so good inside you, both your moans ringing through the air and the smell of sex in the room until he’s coming in you. hips bucking and slamming quickly to follow his high before he flicks your clit a few times to bring you to your second orgasm of the night.

you both lay there after, naked and panting, before he’s up and getting a warm, wet rag. there’s a slight sting but it makes you feel incredibly love and vulnerable, watching as he cleans between your legs with a sweet, gentleness and diligence.

“was that okay?” he mumbles in your hair, the faint scent of sweat and perfume on your skin. you only mumble and nod against him but he needs to see your face in this moment.

see that this was just as amazing and fulfilling for you as it was for him.

and when he meets your gaze, his thumb under your chin to meet his eyes, he can see it was. in your glossy eyes and shy smile and pink cheeks that makes him wanna kiss you all over again.

“it was good. really good,” you confess quietly, a small deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he moves a sweaty stand of hair behind your ear.

“yeah? really good?” he teases, eyebrow quirked as he pecks a playful kiss on your cheek. “just how good?”

your blush intensifies as you hide your face in his chest, his laugh mumbled against your head as you feel his lips press against your head.

you two eventually venture back into the living room after a few more kisses and wandering hands, plopping on the couch fully dressed and cuddled into one another when there’s a commotion right outside the apartment door.

the both of you turn to see the seven other boys barreling through in a drunken, sloppy daze, yunho holding mingi and jongho up while hongjoong holds san and wooyoung. seonghwa follows behind with an annoyed expression, meeting yeosang’s gaze that screams you will pay for this.

“what the hell happened?”

“single people drank for free,” hongjoong says, watching as the four drunken idiots either collapse onto the floor or stumble into the kitchen; seonghwa follows quickly behind, because as much disdain as he has, he doesn’t wanna see anyone light themselves on fire.

“so you could only imagine how that went. i don’t even know how many peanut butter and jelly shots san and wooyoung had.”

“that is so disgusting,” yeosang says, your head nodding against his chest because “i’m sorry, but that kind of is. maybe you guys should have some water now.”

“it was good, y/n!” jongho whines, throwing himself down next to you and yeosang. he slumps against the arm of the couch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before his eyes shoot open.

you and yeosang watch as he does so, quickly rising from the couch and sniffing like a police dog in front of a bag of drugs.

“the fuck’s your problem?”

“who lit my cotton candy candle?!” the boy yelps, taking one whiff of the air and being positive he’d know that smell anywhere. “and why does it barely mask the smell of sex?!”

your eyes widen and a deep, red blush overcomes you, a growl leaving yeosang at the same time hongjoong comes over and tugs the boy up by his arm. the smaller boy throws you an apologetic look as he escorts jongho to his room, yeosang’s arm tightening around you as you hide yourself in his chest.

“does it really? i don’t smell anything.”

yeosang bites down on his lip so he doesn’t start laughing, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he shakes his own for your own peace of mind.

“no, baby. it’s fine. he’s just a drunk idiot.”

april - freshmen year

maybe it was because you guys started out so strong.

with great communication and constant assurance that kept you both aware of each other’s feelings.

you knew when he was feeling unsure about your quietness, wondering if it was something he did or if you just weren’t feeling good that day.

he knew when you were feeling overwhelmed, realizing just how different you two were the longer you were together. how he was just so outgoing and charismatic and extroverted and you just... weren’t.

how now that they honeymoon phase was over, stupid little arguments would break out. about what to do on the weekend, about where to eat, about staying in to study versus going to a cafe on campus.

they weren’t even real fights but it was enough to make you see a change in you guys. enough to see that, maybe, one day, this was gonna be a problem and you two would have to overcome it or let it ruin something good.

“we’re having seonghwa’s birthday party at the house tonight,” he tells you during your study session, another argument he won by bribing you with hot chocolate and sugar cookies at a local cafe.

you look up from your work and nod your head, a small smile on your face at the thought of seonghwa and the others.

you’ve gotten a lot closer to all of them over the past few months, even seonghwa who took a little bit longer to come out of his shell. but now that you talked to him you saw how nice and funny he was.

how he comes across as scary and standoffish but, really, is one of the most loyal and observant friends in the room.

he always knows when people are uncomfortable or have had too much of someone or something for the night - you watched him physically separate wooyoung and san when the both had too much alcohol and were getting snippy with each other.

his presence brings a comfort over you that you can’t quite explain. maybe because it seems like he’s kind of like you - quiet and shy and doesn’t like being the center of attention.

which is why you’re shocked in the first place he even agreed to a party.

“oh, he didn’t,” yeosang says, a smirk on his face as he thinks back to the night they all gave him an ultimatum. “but it was the lesser evil that we gave him so he agreed.”

“oh?” you quip, eyebrow raised as you play footsie under the table. “and what was it? making a restaurant sing him happy birthday?”

a wide smirk crosses yeosang face as he nods, a giggle leaving your mouth as you smack his arm lightly.

“you guys are bad.”

“eh, he’s dramatic,” he says, your gaze dropping back down to your work.

he’s said that a few times when you tell him a restaurant or bar is too crowded. when you’re at one of his sister’s house parties and the beer pong table is becoming far too overwhelmingly and crowded for your liking.

it’s always in a joking manner, him whisking you away despite others’ groans of protests, but it still secretly makes you a little sad.

“i actually have to go help them set up in a bit,” he says, your neck snapping up to him again. he sees your eyebrows pull together and reaches across the table, his hand on your arm rubbing you assuringly.

“what’s that face for?”

“nothing, i just...” you let out a sigh as you look down at your lap, feeling silly and stupid and perhaps dramatic. “you’re the one who wanted to come here and now you’re leaving. i could’ve just stayed at my room.”

“yeah but then i wouldn’t have fed you,” he says, reaching over to peck your nose sweetly. “i’ll pick you up at 7:45, baby.”

you can’t even say anything before he’s up and out the door, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as you watch him walk to his car. he turns around and waves, a small smile on your face as you wave back and watch him drive away.

you try not to think about it as you get your work done, faintly aware of the growing population in the cafe and the raising altitude of voices. a group of five take the spot next to you and that successfully gets you ready to sprint out the door.

it’s all good sounds, laughter and squeals and chipper voices, but it’s still too much for you. the sounds and the crowds and the overwhelmingly desire to just be in a peaceful quiet by yourself.

that is until a familiar voice, deep and low and calming, brings you out of your panic before it can even start.

“y/n?”

you look up to see a head of dirty blonde hair, seonghwa clad in dark leather and converse as he makes his way over to you.

“oh. hi, seonghwa,” you say, voice quiet and slightly breathless.

his eyes remain on you for a few seconds too long, gaze carefully roaming your  face before he makes his way over to the table. he sees your books and pens splayed out messily, a smirk on his face as he meets your eyes again.

“the semester just started, how do you have all this shit to do already?”

“believe me, i’m wondering the same thing,” you wince, his quiet chuckle causing a smile to light up your face. “what are you doing here?”

“getting a coffee. i slept like shit last night.”

“did wooyoung keep you up?”

“of course he did, the annoying fuck,” he grumbles, his eyes rolling and face pulled in disdain causing you to giggle. “speaking of which, where’s yeosang?”

seonghwa can count on his hands how many times he’s seen you two without each other.

“he left like an hour ago actually,” you say, seeing the time on your phone is 5:00 before your voice turns teasing and you raise your eyebrows playfully.

“he’s getting your party ready.”

seonghwa’s face pulls into on of confusion, your smile dropping as a guilty, sinking feeling builds in your stomach - yeosang didn’t tell you it was a surprise.

“oh no.”

“those annoying fucks, i swear to god,” seonghwa growls lowly, your eyes widening and lips pulling into a frown. “guess i can’t go home tonight.”

“i’m sorry, seonghwa, they didn’t tell me it was a surprise,” you whine quietly, looking up to meet his tight, dark gaze. “they said it was either that or a restaurant sang to you and you went with the party.”

“i told them that one was worse, not that i wanted a party.”

your frown deepens as you sink in your seat, your hands toying nervously on the table. seonghwa’s eyes fall to them and he lets out a sigh, eyes moving to the chair before he plops down in his seat.

a silence hangs between you both, as silent as it could be in a bustling, crowded cafe. you look up to see him watching your hands, quickly pulling them apart and smiling when he meets your gaze.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to spoil it,” you say, “but i don’t think they’re inviting that many people. yeosang usually tells me when parties are gonna be really crowded, so they’ll probably only be like twenty people.”

“yeah, well, that’s eleven too many.”

you press your lips together as you watch him, his neck rolling back and adams apple bobbing.

you can feel the table beside you watch, are sure the whole cafe has been watching since the moment he walked in. you’re not blind to the fact that seonghwa is unbearably attractive, slicked back dirty blonde hair and large stature that draws attention anywhere he goes.

for as long as you’ve known him though, you’ve never seen him bring girls around. or even mention a girl. he always just keeps to himself and his friends - and now you, you suppose, after months of trying and trying.

“i guess this is why they said we’re having a roommate meeting at 8:00.”

you send him a sympathetic smiling, assuring him that it won’t be that bad and you’ll be able to get through it together.

“i sometimes wonder how you’re able to put up with it,” you tell him honestly, thinking back to all the times you’ve watched him and his roommates. “they’re all so crazy and extroverted and.... loud.”

a deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, rising from the chair and looking down at you.

“years of practice and selective hearing,” he says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head. you don’t think anything of the way his gaze lingers on you, sending a small smile his way before he speaks again.

“so you’ll be there tonight?”

“yes! yeosang’s picking me up at 7:45 so i should probably get going too,” you say, closing your textbooks and getting your pens together.

“i’ll order my coffee and then walk you back to your dorm.”

“oh no, seonghwa, it’s okay, i-”

but before you can protest any further, he’s turned around and waiting in line to place an order for his coffee. you let out a sigh as you pack up your books, securing it on your shoulder before meeting him at the register.

the cashier is just as mesmerized as she is disappointed when she sees you stand next to him, dropping her flirtier smile for a polite one.

“your order will be right out sir.”

he nods his head as you guys go to the waiting area, standing side by side in silence before you turn to look with a smirk on your face.

“sir?”

“you can walk home in the dark, how ‘bout that?”

a giggle leaves your mouth as you shrug, insisting you didn’t even ask him to walk you home in the first place. he only rolls his eyes before his name is called, grabbing the hot coffee as you follow behind in amusement.

the walk to your dorm is only a few minutes, you and seonghwa walking in a comfortable silence as you walk through the campus. snow from last week’s storm rests on the trees in a picturesque manner, a slight chill in the air that causes you to shiver.

“are you gonna act surprised?”

seonghwa looks over at you as you walk, his arm clumsily bumping into yours as you walk through the slushy, dirty snow - it goes seemingly unnoticed by both of you, arms accidentally grazing for a few seconds before disconnecting as you walk.

he just shrugs and remains quiet, slipping back into the dismissive and intimidating person he once seemed to be. you don’t even think he realizes he comes off like that, just has this look that screams do not look or talk to me.

you stop in front of your dorm a few moments later, turning around tot meet seonghwa who looms over you. he wears a blank, unreadable expression until you smile up at him, thanking him again for walking you and that you’ll see him in a few hours.

“no problem, couldn’t let yeosang’s girl walk alone,” he says, gaze lingering on you for the third time. you've noticed him do this to everyone though, watch and observe to a point where you think he knows things people don’t know about themselves.

“and i’ll act surprised, tonight. won’t let it slip that you ruined my birthday.”

“yeosang didn’t tell me that it was a sur- wait. is today your real birthday?”

his eyebrow quirks up sarcastically, a smile pulling at his lips as he looks at you.

"why would they throw me a birthday party if it wasn’t my birthday?”

an embarrassed flush crosses your cheeks as an awkward giggle bubbles out of your mouth.

“i just thought because it was the weekend or something,” you stutter out, “happy birthday, seonghwa.”

“thanks, y/n,” he smiles, eyes softening every so slightly before he nods his head toward the building. “go in. it’s cold. i’ll see you later.”

“bye,” you say, sending a small wave his way before turning around and disappearing into your dorm building.

if you didn’t know any better, you’d think seonghwa was an award winning actor.  

because when the party of 30 (just ten over what you predicted) screamed “happy birthday seonghwa!” in the pitch darkness, a miscalculation mingi and the light switch, he seemed genuinely surprised.

or, at least, as surprised as his face could express when he turned on the lights.

his eyes were wide and his eyebrow was quirked, a look of disdain throw at his friends who were huddled in the front and clapping excitedly.

“happy birthday hwa!”

“we got you, bitch!”

“wear this happy birthday hat!”

he whacked the red hat right out of jongho’s head, growling at him to not push it in a way that makes you hold back a laugh. he catches your eye and smiles at you, mouthing “good enough?” that has you nodding happily.

the house party picks up almost immediately after seonghwa’s arrival, music blaring and drinking games starting and a loud, pleasant chatter that your boyfriend thrives off of.

guides you around by the small of your back and introduces you to people you’re sure you’ve met before but just don’t recognize you; regardless, you’re polite.

smile at people and say hello before falling into the silence of watching yeosang and stranger after stranger talk. even someone he doesn’t know, like the friend of a friend or significant other of a friend, he talks to like he’s known them forever.

he just connects with people so easily and a part of you is truly envious of it.

“i just don’t get how you do it,” you whine to him on the couch, the same alcoholic beverage in hand (you think yeosang said it’s a rum and coke) that you humored him with when the party started.

“i just talk, baby, what do you mean?” he laughs out, you sitting on his lap as he takes a swig of his beer.

“i know but so easily,” you mumble. “and you don’t see awkward or scared or anything. what if you guys lapse into a silence? or don’t know what to talk about?”

“silence isn’t bad, though, we sit in silence sometimes. and there are always things to talk about.”

like the person walking around with jongho’s array of candles, making the drunk boy run after him and fight off people trying to sniff them.

or the incredibly competitive and entertaining game of flip cup, one side far superior than the other and completely demolishing them.

or like how the birthday boy, the reason why eveyone’s gathered here today and having fun, hasn’t gotten his ass off the couch since he walked through the door.

“i didn’t ask for these people to be here,” seonghwa growls when he hears yeosang talking shit, throwing a dirty look his way as he tosses a pillow at him. “you idiots did that all on your own.”

“and aren’t you happy we did? now you have a bunch of gifts.”

the blank stare seonghwa has shows he could not give less of a fuck about the pile of cards in his room right now, politely thanking the guests who were nice enough to actually bring them and not just their drunken presence.

“we should’ve taken your grouchy ass to a restaurant so they could’ve-”

“yeosang, bro! please come here! we need you!”

the voice belonged to a guy from your class named yeonjun. he had pink hair and was very similiar to your boyfriend, charismatic and friendly in such a gravitating, almost unnatural way.

he also apparently sucked at flip cup.

“it’s not my fault you suck,” he yells from over the couch, loud groans of protest and upset coming from the table.

“c’mon yeosang! please!”

“we need you!”

“leave your hot girlfriend and get over here now!”

yeosang looks to you to see a flustered blush on your cheeks, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he pecks one the pink skin.

“can i go, baby?” he mumbles quietly, squeezing your waist every so slightly. “they’re really desperate and need me.”

your lips purse together as you look over your boyfriend, the slight pout and look in his eye causing you to sigh. he knows then that he won, again, the way he usually does these days, and lifts you off his lap.

he presses another kiss to your head before he’s off, loud, happy shouts of excitement causing you to crane your neck back. he does the weird boy hand shake-hug before the game starts up, turning back to see seonghwa sitting across from you on the other couch.

“having fun birthday boy?”

“no,” he answers immediately, dryly, in a way that brings a big smile to your face. “how ‘bout you?”

“it’s okay,” you shrug, curling your legs under you as he rest on the couch more comfortably. “i hope the cake is good.”

“i don’t like cake.”

he’s never seen someone’s eyes widen as much as yours do in that very moment, a small, short chuckle leaving his mouth at your expression.

“what?”

“how do you not like cake?” you squeal.

if there’s one thing you could eat in this world, dietary and nutritional values aside, it would be chocolate cake.

“i just don’t like it, it’s too like sweet and sugary. and if it’s chocolate, that’s even worse.”

the pillow he threw at yeosang flies through the air and hits him back in the face, only your smug, disturbed expression staring back at his shocked one. it would usually make you laugh, the look on his face, but you’re truly just so disturbed - how is there not gonna be cake at a birthday party?

“how could you not like chocolate cake of all the cakes!” you squeal

“did you just throw a pillow at me on my birthday?”

“i mean like carrot cake or fruit cake i get. those are kind of gross and only certain people like them. but chocolate cake? it’s loved by almost every-”

like a game of monkey in the middle, with no monkey, the battered throw pillow flies through the air again and just misses your face; whether he did that on purpose or accidentally is no one’s business.

you and seonghwa stare at one another, eyes narrowed and faces slightly red, completely unaware to the party around you until you’re the one who cracks. put your hand to your mouth and start laughing hysterically.

not a cute giggle or breathy chuckle but a big, hearty, real laugh.

he’s never heard you like this before, probably because he’s only spent a little bit of time with you, but it makes him smile even more. the sound of your laugh and innocent happiness is contagious, his deeply mumbled “stop,” so obviously fake due to the the smile tugging at his lips.

you eventually moved onto the couch beside him, hitting him closer with the pillow before plopping down next to him. talking to him and being next to him made you forget about the party.

not because he was handsome or because you liked him - you loved yeosang and were dating him.

you just enjoyed being able to relate to someone. loved sitting there with someone who didn’t just wanna drink or get high or dance. who was able to be there in silence or talk about nonsense while being surrounded by the chaotic energy of a party.

so much so that you don’t even realize your own boyfriend left you for half the night. not once coming over to check on you or see if you were dong okay until it was time for the cake seonghwa wasn’t even gonna eat.

“i’m sorry, baby, i got caught up with the game,” he mumbled, his arms wound tightly around your waist. you shake your head against his chest, assuring him that it’s okay as he tickles your neck with soft pecks from his lips.

the night ended with yeosang getting so drunk, you had to put him to bed. it wasn’t something you minded, you’ve done this a few times before, but for whatever reason tonight it made something build in the pit of your stomach.

like you already knew tonight something in the future was gonna change because of parties, yeosang’s extroverted ways and seonghwa’s lingering eyes that everyone but you three notice.  

july:

you end the semester with all a’s, an excuse to not return home for the summer and a strained relationship.

it seemed like it happened slowly and then all at once.

there was the time at seonghwa’s party where you thought nothing of it. he was occupied and, luckily, so were you. he left you but went back smiling and affectionate, pressing kisses to your skin and mumbling about how beautiful you looked.

but then it started happening more.

at his sister’s parties where he knew you were uncomfortable.

at frat parties where you were even more uncomfortable.

even at his own house, when the boys had a few people over and they were playing video games while getting high.

it was always seonghwa who kept you company, the two of you in the same room as them but seemingly on a different planet. sitting beside one another observing the party and sharing snide, sneaky comments about others.

how it seemed as if there was some turmoil between mingi and yunho, the way they were ignoring each other and sharing looks back and forth when the other wasn’t looking.

how wooyoung and hongjoong’s frat boys friends didn’t seem to get along in the slightest, the boys always sneering at him when he laughed too loud or teased them too much.

how yeosang was so consumed by the limelight, talking and laughing and making jokes, that he seemed to have forgotten you exist.

“i don’t think he realizes he does it, y/n,” seonghwa assured you one night, the end of the semester coming to a close and allowing you all to relax.

it’d been a hard and stressful first year but there’d also been a lot of fun. a lot of making new relationships that you know will last a lifetime and a lot of things you learned about yourself through all of these experiences.

it’d also been one of the happiest times of your life thanks to yeosang, the boy you fell for so hard and so fast despite all your fears and reservations.

you’re still happy now, even with the bumps. because you think, you hope, that you guys could get through them.

“he’s always been like that. very social and in the middle of a group. people are always drawn to him.”

seonghwa’s not surprised that you were drawn to him. yeosang’s always had something about him that people flock to, men and women alike; but you were the first he’s truly fell for.

reciprocated feelings for and truly cared about their well being and them as a person.

“i don’t think he’s trying to hurt you. that’s just how he is.”

“he’s not hurting me.”

because through all of this, through him ignoring you and neglecting him and seemingly blowing off your feelings because they’re silly and unrelatable to him, you’re trying to convince yourself he’s not.

that you really are just being silly and dramatic about all of this.

that even though you go these outings for him, despite detesting them more than anything, and he keeps leaving you alone, you’re not hurt by it; but seonghwa can see through it.

and whether it’s because you guys are so alike or because he’s so annoyingly observant, you’re not sure. you just know that he looks at you with a soft, sympathetic disbelief that causes the ever growing lump in your throat to grow bigger.

“y/n...”

“he’s really not, seonghwa,” you mumble, words hushly spoken as you watch yeosang carefully; you know if he sees you looking upset, he’s gonna come over.

he’ll stop whatever he’s doing or whatever conversation he’s having and it’s because of that you can’t be upset. because he still loves you and cares for you.

you just have to stop being so dramatic and silly.

when you say that to seonghwa, the very words that come from your boyfriend’s mouth, you watch his face change completely. become harder and harsher as he looks to yeosang, jaw ticking as he pops his neck to the side.

“whatever you say, y/n,” he mumbles. “i just don’t want you guys having problems over this. he loves you, y/n.”

he asked you to stay with him for the summer a few days before classes ended, unsure if you’d be able to but wanting to ask because “my parents are gonna be away for the summer,” he said to you suddenly, both of you laying naked in your dorm.

you craned your neck up to look at him, sweat glistening on his face and chest making him handsome even then.  

“are you scared to be in the house all alone?”

he rolls his eyes playfully, bopping you on the nose lightly before pulling you on top of him. the blankets lay around you messily, your core under his flaccid dick that just ripped several orgasms through you.

“very. i’m gonna be very scared and need you with me. i truthfully might not even survive,” he drones on, resting his hands on your hips as you roll your eyes at him.

you ponder over it as you sit on top of him, biting down on your lip in a way that causes him to tighten his hold and roll your hips over him just a little bit. you ignore him and his horny ways the way you’ve learned to, thinking it all over before realizing it might be good for you guys.

you don’t know if he’s noticed the slight disconnect, it could just be you living in your head all the time, but you think spending time together would be good. would remind you of how you felt with him when you first started dating and he always made sure you were his number one priority.

you want some of that again. you want him to notice when you’re upset or uncomfortable and go out of his way to help you in a crowd, even if it’s just for a moment.

you want to feel like if it came down to you, his friends and the parties or you, that he’d pick you each and every time.

the first few weeks of summer felt as if you were getting that.

you spent a lot of your time longing around his house. playing in his pool and watching movies outside and having sex on nearly every surface, you were surprised to be able to walk.

but all of that quickly stopped when everyone else was home from college.

when his hometown became just one big reunion, people from his high school and neighboring colleges getting together the one way college kids knew - house parties with kegs and loud music.

it seemed as if every few days, you guys were going out.

you and yeosang and all of his friends meeting up with different groups and different houses and having the time of your lives late into the summer nights.

the stuffy houses and sleazy bars definitely weren’t your scene but yeosang, per usual, thrived.

he more often than not would leave you after the first hour, making sure you were with seonghwa or hongjoong or yunho before going off to drink or mingle with his friends.

he’d check on you periodically but it almost seemed as if he felt obligated to.

pressing a kiss to your cheek or holding you by the waist to ask if you needed another drink or wanted to play beer pong; but it was always the same answer every time.

a polite no with a fake smile on your lips that he left with a parting kiss before disappearing back into the crowd.

it was getting old and you knew he was starting to feel the disconnect too, the more hazy summer days that passed, but you both ignored it. because the times at his house were nice, you almost felt normal.

kissing and cuddling and talking as you ate.

but you knew that would all fade away eventually.

when there more were people who weren’t just you or his friends and craved something more exciting than just staying in and hanging out.

talk of a beach bonfire weekend had, admittedly, peaked your interest.

it was different than the stuffy houses or sleazy bars you’ve gotten used to over these past few weeks of summer.

now, you got to go to the beach and rent a nice house right by the ocean. be with yeosang and his friends and the people you got to know in a much more tropical and romantic setting.

you drove up with yeosang, yunho and mingi in the latter boy’s jeep, you and yeosang in the back as wind whipped through your hair. you giggle anytime your hair smacks him in the face, eventually being pulled into his chest to stop the assault from happening on his face.

his heartbeat is calming under your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as him and the two boys in front talk over the plans for the weekend.

you’re blissfully unaware of it as you remain close to his body, warm and sticky in the humid air but not caring.

because even despite your problems and disconnect, you still want him near you. you still find comfort in him and you still want to feel loved by him.

“how does that sound?” you hear yeosang mumble in your ear, his breath tickling your skin causing you to hum against him.

“how does what sound?”

“did you fall asleep?” he asks teasingly, nudging you playfully until your faces are a few inches from each other. “i asked if you wanna go on a date tonight when we get there.”

a happy smile crosses your face as you nod eagerly, one breaking out on his too before he places a soft kiss on your lips.

you’re buzzing with a silent excitement the rest of the ride, your hand is his as you play with his fingers and he smiles at you ever so often. holding hands always felt right between you two, like they were made to fit perfectly and acted as a way to ground you both.

your hands stay intertwined when you get to the house, a giant 8-bedroom mansion on the beach that cost you half of your savings - but the view is making it seem worth it.

the waves crashing just a few feet from the back door and causing everyone to storm out of their cars to fight for the best room.

“i want the balcony, please for the love of god! i will do all the dishes during this trip if you guys let me have it.”

“that’s such bullshit,” hongjoong complains, calling wooyoung out on a deal he knows he definitely won’t abide by; but after much nearly 30 minutes of whining and a written contract stuck to the fridge, it was decided.

wooyoung gets the room with the balcony in exchange for dishes duty, a fair exchange you think given the view.

your and yeosang’s room is the one next to wooyoung, an en-suite and beautiful view of the ocean outside the floor to ceiling windows. your standing there watching the waves crash, bags at your feet and content smile on your face when yeosang wraps his arms around you from behind.

you giggle when he presses his lips to your neck, turning in his hold to immediately meet his for a kiss. it feels like you miss him even though you see him everyday. even though you’ve fallen asleep and woken up next to him for over a month.

“what do you wanna eat tonight?” he mumbles against your lips, pulling back to look at you with a smile on his face and a playful twinge in his eyes. you cock your head to the side as you look up him, shrugging your shoulders because it really doesn’t matter.

you’re just excited for your date.

“i don’t care, i’ll have anything.”

“we’ll find a place then,” he says, pulling you closer to him in a way you already know means something. “you wanna shower before we go?”

“why? do i smell?” you tease, a smirk on his face as he pulls you toward the bathroom wordlessly.

and lucky for both of you, there was a very convenient bench in the shower that had you in there until the mirror was foggy and the water ran cold.

“can you bring us back food?” mingi whined, yeosang rolling his eyes as he caught the boy’s car keys.

“as long as you eat in on plates so wooyoung has to wash the dishes.”

“hey!”

“deal.”

a smile spreads across your face as you wave goodbye to all the boys, wearing a pretty new dress you’ve been wanting to wear for weeks. yeosang takes your hand and interlaces your fingers together, shouts of “bye” and “have fun lovebirds,” echoing through the house.

the restaurant is right on the beach with outdoor seating, twinkle lights lining the space with the quiet chatter of people and gentle crash of waves. you and yeosang are play footsie under the table as you look over the menu, shy smiles and coy narrowed eyes beuing thrown at each other.

it’s been a while since things have felt this natural and easy between you two but you think you both needed it. the casual conversation, the airy chuckles and giggles, the warm feeling in the middle of your chest when you catch him looking at you lovingly.

“you look beautiful, baby. are you excited for this weekend?”

a faint blush covers your cheeks as you look up at him, twirling the spaghetti on your fork as you nod your head.

“yeah. we’re going to the beach tomorrow, right?”

“yeah,” he says, popping a piece of steak into his mouth. “and then we’re gonna meet changbin and them at a bar. his friend’s parents own it so we’ll be able to get in.”

“oh... okay,” you hum after a few seconds, quietly picking at our food and feeling yeosang’s eyes on you.

“what?”

you look up and meet his gaze, the sweet, softness gone and replaced with something you’re not quite able to make out. you feel nerves in the pit of your stomach, taking a deep breath before you plaster a smile on your face.

“nothing. that’ll be fun.”

“you think?” he asks, eyebrow quirked and a happy smile on his face; he was hoping you liked going out and meeting his friends more. he loves showing you off and having you by his side but in the beginning, it always seemed like you didn’t wanna be there.

he’s happy you’re coming around to it now, wanting his girlfriend by his side and having fun with him too.

“yeah,” you lie through your teeth, the smile on your face a complete contrast to your feelings inside.

when did he stop knowing when your smile was fake? or thinking that you actually wanted to go out? couldn’t he see all the time you were pushing yourself to be there for him, just for him to leave you alone?

“i think we’ll have fun,” you lie again, having a terrible feeling that this weekend getaway might be the thing that breaks you and yeosang completely.

because your relationship is already fragile and neither of you are acknowledging it. you just keep kissing and giggling and playing footsie under the table, looking like the perfect couple you truly once were in the beginning.

friday morning it seemed as if maybe things were gonna be okay.

you woke up to yeosang kissing your face, forehead to cheek to cheek to nose until he peppered them down your neck and a tired whine left you. he smiled against your skin, his lowly mumbled ,”good morning, baby,” making your stomach flutter first thing.

the moment was quickly over, open mouthed kisses and his tongue slipping past yours, when wooyoung and mingi bursted through the door, dramatic yelps leaving them as they ran out covering each other’s eyes.

“i cannot believe you kiss him in the morning,” wooyoung said an hour later, all eight of you walking down to the beach.

the cooler was packed and ready, fully prepared for a day in the sun and pregaming for the bar later tonight.

“why?” you ask, a smile pulling at your lips at the look of disgust on his face.

“multiple reasons but his breath being the first! isn’t it disgusting? there’s no way he doesn’t wake up with rank breath, y/n, i just don’t believe it.”

an arm wraps around your waist from behind, your boyfriend’s hand craning your face back so he can peck another long, lingering kiss on your mouth; wooyoung’s gags in the back cause you to smile against him.

“you better be careful talking about rank breath,” yeosang says when he pulls away, eyes right on wooyoung who’s wearing a look of shock and hurt.

“i don’t have bad breath.”

“i can smell you right now. did you even bring a toothbrush?”

“he actually didn’t,” jongho quips, wooyoung’s head snapping toward his as you and yeosang suppress your laughter - one of you better than the other.

“it’s all he kept talking about in the car. sick fuck even asked to use to mine but that is just too-”

“oh wow, look at the waves! c’mon, y/n, you said you wanted to play in them!”

wooyoung grabs your hand before you’re able to say anything, giggling as he drags you down the hot sand. you throw down your bag and look back at yeosang with a smile, his hand waving you off as he picks up your belongings.

mingi and san join you both a few minutes later, the water making your feet numb in the wet sand.

you don’t know how long it takes all four of you to fully immerse yourself in the water - at least thirty minutes if you had to guess. but once you got in, you guys didn’t wanna get out.

the waves were harsh and crashed down on you viscously but that was part of the fun. diving into the water and letting the salt water soak up into your skin and hair. it was even better that there was no gross seaweed, the four of you attempting to play toothpaste despite the major difficulty.

but with how much time past, pruny fingers and soaked hair, you didn’t expect the others to already be shit-faced. it was barely noon and you could tell immediately that yeosang, hongjoong and jongho were well on there way to getting obliterated tonight.

you have sinking suspicions it’s because changbin and his friends are also here; and when their two friend groups are together, nothing could comes of it.

they’re all fun and sweet and care for one another but they also build off of each other - enable each other’s young, college drinking habits and rowdy behavior.

“b-baby, c’mere,” yeosang slurs when he sees you, wrapping you up in a towel and pulling you on his lap.

you land on his lap with a plop, smiling and saying hello to the others. you can smell the alcohol on yeosang’s breath but he’s always in good spirits. always laughing and smiling and making jokes that, usually, his drinking isn’t a problem.

it’s not something you particularly enjoy or can relate to but he’s never been a  mean drunk.

not until today.

“you look really good today, you know that?” he mumbles lowly in your ear, the new, red bikini you brought clinging to your body in all the right ways. you were slightly embarrassed to wear it today but decided to go for it because you thought you looked nice in it and spent $70 on it.

you looked up at him with an embarrassed flush on your cheeks, elbowing him lightly as he wraps his arms around your waist. his fingers toy with the edge of your bikini under the towel, your eyes widening when you feel what he’s trying to do.

“yeosang,” you whisper harshly, keeping your voice low but firm as you smack his hand over the towel.

“what,” he whines lowly, eyes roaming the area to see everyone either going to the water or chatting amongst themselves. “you’re covered, baby. i wouldn’t let anyone see what’s mine.”

“are you crazy,” you whisper as you peek your face up at him. “we’re already drinking underage on the beach yeosang. you can’t finger me in public either.”

“who said i was gonna finger you?” he mumbles, a smirk on his face and teasing in his voice; but you don’t find this funny. you don’t find him being this drunk and touchy at noon is funny. “you’re getting ahead of yourself now, baby.”

“why are you getting this drunk at noon, yeosang? we’re going out tonight too, unfortunately.”

“unfortunately?” he asks, craning his neck down to look at you. “i thought you were excited.”

“i was so excited for the beach,” you tell him quietly. “i thought you would come in the ocean with us.”

because you wanted to spend that time with him. have the jeuvnile fun you used to have when you’d go on drives to the beach at night and freeze your asses off on the sand.

“you looked like you were having enough fun with wooyoung and san,” he mumbles, something darker and sarcastic in his voice that makes you turn in his lap and look at him.

his eyes are glassy and teasing but not in the light hearted way. they look almost vengeful, like he’s jealous or feeling left out the same way you’ve been; but you’re always sitting there, at parties or at bars or in your room, waiting for him.

how doesn’t he see that?”

“that’s because you’ve been with everyone else. you’re always with everyone else and you leave me behind.”

“what are you even talking about?” he sneers, keeping his voice low but full of bite. “you come everywhere with me like my damn shadow, y/n. how do i leave you behind? i couldn’t if i tried.”

his words make you physically recoil, his lap now longer feeling comfortable and inviting but cold. the hurt is evident on your face and in your heart and he’s just looking at you like he’s ready to have a full on argument, his eyebrow raised and glossy eyes wide.

like he’s waiting for you to say something just so he can respond and hurt you.

there’s a long, lingering silence between you two, the laughter of others surrounding you despite the way tears are burning your eyes. a screech of your name pulls you away, looking at san and mingi where the shorter boy is holding his foot above the sand.

“can you come back with us? i cut my foot.”

some silly part of you expects yeosang to tell them to leave you alone. that you spent your time with them and now it’s his turn to be with you. but he doesn’t say a word, just bounces his knee as if to tell you to get off and it feels as if your heart drops into your stomach.

you swallow the growing lump in your throat, throwing the towel back on yeosang and rising toyour feet to help san.

“sure,” you tell the boy quietly, not looking back at yeosang once as you make your way up to the house.

you clean san’s foot on the counter in the kitchen, getting off all the dirt and dust with an alcohol pad as he whines in pain.

“it’s not that bad,” you mumble, mingi nodding in agreement as san narrows his eyes at both of you.

you’re strangely quiet, more quiet than usual, and mingi can’t help but notice the sad look on your face; you’d been so happy in the water and when you first got to the beach.

“did you and yeosang fight?”

you look up at mingi to see his eyes on you, soft and sweet and looking over you gently. it makes the weepy, emotional part in you wanna cry but you refuse, letting the dramatic tears burn your eyes at you shake your head.

“are you sure? you look sad.”

“no, i’m okay, i’m just tired,” you say, sending a small smile his way that is obviously fake. “the water and sun always tire me out.”

san and mingi accept your answer as you finish covering san’s food, slapping a band-aid on his heel and smiling (the smallest hint of a real smile) as he kisses your cheek in thanks.

you watch outside the window as yeosang sits in his chair, all the boys in a circle with their cups full of beer and throwing their heads back in laughter. you can hear their banter and harsh words through the open glass, not a single part of you wanting to go back out there.

you’d much rather sit in the bath or take a nap, rid yourself of the image of yeosang’s harsh words and annoyed eyes.  

“y/n?” san says, your eyes snapping to his concerned face - how long had he been calling you?

“c’mon, we’re going back,” he says, extending his arm down to you. “we used to play this olympic game when we were kids and we wanna try again.”

a smile pulls at your lips at his statement, picturing all of them as crazy kids running up and down the beach playfully. but now you don’t wanna go back out there, especially since you have to go out later with them.

“i kind of wanna take a nap before we go out tonight,” you tell the boys, looks of horror crossing their faces.

“what? we’re not going out till 7. it’s only 1:30, y/n.”

“i know but i’m gonna take a bath, too. the tub is really big.”

the dejected frowns on mingi and san almost make you crack but they eventually let it go, insisting that if you can’t fall asleep to come back out so you can all go back in the ocean.

you watch them walk back to the group from the door, eyes lingering over yeosang who’s smiling and laughing with his big group of friends. he always looks most comfortable like that, in a big group of people where everyone looks to him and laughs, giving him the attention he used to look for from you.

but things change apparently. you don’t know how or when or why neither of you have acknowledged it but it’s obvious that somewhere along the line, things had changed.

“where’s y/n?” seonghwa’s voice asked, pulling yeosang from his discussion as he sees mingi and san walking back to the group.

“she said she’s tired,” san answers with a frown, a scoff leaving yeosang that has the dirty blonde side eyeing him. “she might come back down after she takes a nap.”

“she won’t,” yeosang says, taking a sip from his beer before throwing the glass bottle into the garbage bag; san and mingi side eye each other, catching the dark look that seonghwa throws the boy’s way.

“can someone get me another one?”

you woke to the sound of yeosang shuffling around in his bag, eyes fluttering open to see a towel wrapped around his waist. your eyes roamed over is body, a flat, toned stomach and muscular arms that now had a red su burn on them.

“did you put on sunscreen?”

he jumped slightly despite your quiet tone, meeting your tired gaze and bedridden hair as he nods his head. he places a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on the bed, undressing in front of you as you keep your gaze on him.

“did you sleep well?”

you can’t read his expression or tone at all right now and it unsettles you greatly; so you only nod, sitting up and stretching your arms up and over your head.

“are you coming out with us?”

your eyes narrow and that same sad feling plummets in your stomach again. how it feels like your heart’s falling down further and further.

“um... why wouldn’t i?”

“because it doesn’t seem like you want to.”

“then should i just sit here by myself?”

silence fills the room as you both just stare at each other blankly, the hurt behind your eyes and the annoyance behind his far too palpable. you wonder if he’s gonna say anything in response or just leave the out the bedroom door, quirking an eyebrow up in the quietness.

“we’re leaving in 30,” is all he says, voice still short and eyes still tight as he turns around and leaves. mingi and san sneak through the door, most definitely eavesdropping, as they run over and plop on your bed.

“you didn’t come back.”

“you guys definitely fought.”

you let out a sigh as you look to mingi, an apologetic smile on his face as he pats your shoulder reassuringly. his hand moves to your hair, lacing his fingers through it before a knot stops him.

“i was sleeping, okay,” you grumble, a deep laugh leaving him as he pulls you up and off the bed.

“we’re leaving soon so get ready. we’re just gonna dance and have fun. i promise.”

and so similiar to the beach outing, the first few hours were fun.

the music was good, it wasn’t too crowded and you even didn’t mind the taste of your strawberry daiquiri. you danced with san, mingi and wooyoung until your feet were killing and your throat felt parched.

you went up to the bar for a water, needing to yell your order over the voices of people as you realize just how crowded it got. your eyes scan the bar for yeosang, seeing him in the corner where the big group resides.

your eyes meet form across the room, a small smile on your face as you wave to him.

you know he sees you, you know you two definitely make eye contact and that he could tell it was you, but he doesn’t acknowledge you in the slightest. only hyunjin and jisung do, yelping your name from across the bar and ushering you over eagerly.

you hesitantly make your way over, a polite smile on your face. there’s a few people you don’t recognize but there’s a lot of people you do, trying to keep that in mind as you approach the table closer and say hi to everyone.

“y/n! where have you been?”

“dancing with san and mingi,” you tell them. “wooyoung, too, but we kept losing him.”

“he’s too friendly for his own good,” jisung says, his eyes roaming you and yeosang before back to you. “where are they now?”

“not sure, maybe outside.”

“cool. stay with us for a bit.”

you’re hesitant but find yourself nodding anyway, your arm grazing yeosang who’s standing next to you. you look to him and he’s talking to a few guys across the table, hyunjin calling your name twice before you notice.

the whole time you’re talking to them, you can’t help but notice how yeosang seems to be avoiding you. giving you the cold shoulder like you’re a random stranger in a bar and not his girlfriend.

and the longer it goes on, the worse you feel. trying to carry on the conversation but becoming more and more aware of yeosang’s distance; and you’re not the only one who’s noticed.

“yo, yeosang,” jisung says, the black-haired boy snapping his head toward the boy. he nods his head toward you, your neck craning toward yeosang and face dropping when the boy begins to speak again.

“is there any reason you’re ignoring your girlfriend?” he asks, humor in his tone.

“what do you mean?” the boy asks, his eyes moving to yours, the same unreadable expression in them.

“you haven’t looked at her once. are you guys even still dating?”

“surprisingly,” the drunken man quips sarcastically.

your face drops and it’s like he knows it, looking at you with a roll of his eyes.

“i was kidding, y/n,” he huffs, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him. he reeks of alcohol and cologne, keeping you under his arm before continuing his conversation.

the entire time, it’s like you’re not even there. he doesn’t once acknowledge you or try to include you in the conversation. just keeps you there as if your his shadow, something he’s not even aware ad that he doesn’t pay any mind to.

you thought you’ve been dramatic over these past few months. maybe being too sensitive or too emotional or maybe even asking too much from him. but it’s like he doesn’t even want you here.

he hasn’t looked your way once and neither of you acknowledged the way you snapped at each other before. your communication has gone down the toilet, all of your feelings brewing while his seem to be nonexistent.

you move out from under his arm, no one, not even him, noticing when you mumble that you’re going to the bathroom.

tears burn your eyes the entire time, feeling stupid and left out and annoying, like you have no place here and just have to be attached to someone who doesn’t want you or yeosang’s friends.

you grip the sink and take a few calming breaths, looking up at the mirror when you hear the door open.

a drunken girl comes in and smiles upon seeing you, her face immediately dropping before she makes her way over to you.

“oh no, what’s wrong?” she asks with a frown on her face, her eyes roaming yours carefully as her hands grip your arms comfortingly. “you look like you’re about to cry.”

you almost laugh at the fact that this random stranger is the one noticing that you’re upset when you were just beside your boyfriend. you only shake your head and promise her that you’re okay, a pathetic excuse of a smile plastered on your face.

but the same way a person breaks down when someone asks if they’re okay, you do when you try to assure her that you are. that you and your boyfriend are in a great place and you feel completely happy here with him.

“just... stupid stuff with my boyfriend,” you eventually mutter out, a small tear escaping your eye that causes her frown to deepen. “i feel silly and dramatic but i don’t know.. i feel like he’s been ignoring me. we’ve been so weird these past few months and it doesn’t seem like he even loves me anymore.”

“leave his ass, are you crazy,” she asks without hesitation, wiping at your tears with a sympathetic smile on her face. “you’re beautiful and he’s not worth crying over. no boy is. because that what he is. a boy. a stupid boy, in fact.”

a wet, strangled giggle leaves your mouth despite the tears streaming down your face, watching as she takes a paper towel and dabs at your face.

“you’re gonna mess up your makeup so no more crying!” she says happily, bouncing up and down with her legs crossed. “leave his ass and have fun, sweet girl! i’m about to pee my pants now.”

another giggle leaves your mouth as you thank her sweetly, wiping at your face and smiling when she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. you take a deep breath, trying to take her words to heart but far too aware of the upset in your stomach.

how leaving him seems like the most painful thing ever. how you don’t even wanna do that because you guys haven’t talked about anything yet. all these problems could be in your own head for all you know, you two haven’t had any sort of discussion.

but it doesn’t help that he doesn’t even seem receptive.

he has been ignoring you and making you feel left out. he brings you along just to leave you when he knows you’re only coming for him; even on the nights you guys stay in, it’s obvious he wants to be out partying.

why can’t it be more fair? are you asking for too much or is he just being inconsiderate?

you walk out of the bathroom to se the corner of bar empty, only jisung and hyujin lingering. the taller boy meets your gaze and the two make their way over, letting you know that they went to the bar outside.

“oh... okay, thanks for letting me know,” you thank softly, a small smile lighting up your face.

they both wear their own sympathetic smile, hyunjin shaking his head at jisung when they make eye contact. there’s a few moments of an awkward silence, you looking between them both before jisung opens his mouth to speak again.

“yeosang was saying some fucked up shit, y/n. i just wanted you to know.”

“han...”

“no, hyunjin, they’ve been together for a long time and he knows her best. that wasn’t cool.”

your stomach plummets at the words leaving the boy, the tears you just got rid of burning the back of your eyes again.

“what... what did he say?”

“it wasn’t anything that bad, we were just shocked. you guys usually seemed so happy and in love and it was just-”

“he said it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you guys broke up. and that if you wanted to, he wouldn’t be too opposed.”

the look on your face must give it all away, tears filling your eyes as you feel yourself ready to bolt. you will not be the girl who cries publicly in a bar, looking like a hot, red-faced mess because your boyfriend decided to be an asshole.

“he’s shit faced, y/n,” hyunjin says immediately, his stomach turning at your tears; he hates when people cry, especially girls. “he only said it because he thinks that’s where you guys are headed. said you guys have felt very disconnected since school ended.”

and while it helps to hear that you haven’t been the only one feeling that way, it still hurts you.

because it doesn’t seem like he wants to fight for you and he hasn’t said anything to you. he’s just ignoring you, making you feel worse and worse with the occasional kiss or whispered sweet nothing.

you think the worst part is that, eve if you guys did break up, he wouldn’t be sad about it. he’d just move on without any qualms and think of you as the girl he dated during his freshmen year of college.

but he was much more to you than that.

he was your first love. the first boy you allowed in and let yourself trust. gave yourself to in the most intimiate way and found solace in him despite your differences.

those differences seem to be your downfall right now - with one similarity that, apparently, both of you suck at communication.

you don’t even realize you’re turning around and leaving the bar until you hear your name being called behind you, walking out in the warm night air and heading toward the beach.

you just keep walking and walking and walking, until there’s nothing but silence and the waves crashing around you.

he knows he shouldn’t care this much.

he knows that it’s not his place and that the boy next to him should be the one worrying and concerned about where you are.

but yeosang doesn’t seem to care at all, switching from beers to shots in a decision seonghwa made hours ago to stay away from.

he can’t stop his eyes from moving to the door ever so often, waiting for your hair or smiling face to walk through and flood him with some relief; but when he sees mingi, san, and wooyoung come in without you, he’s not sure he can hold off any longer.

“yeosang,” seonghwa says, voice deep with his usual bite. “where’s y/n?”

“i don’t know,” he slurs out, not even bothering to look around or observe the crowd. “probably with mingi or san.”

“no, they’re out here, too.”

“i don’t know hwa, why do you care?” he growls in annoyance, downing another shot to dull out the sound your name and all the concerns he has. coming to terms with the fact that you guys are changing and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“because she’s missing, yeosang. no one has seen her or is with her.”

he’s getting more and more irritated at his friends attitude, the way it seems like he couldn’t give less of a shit about where his girlfriend is. especially when he knows you get uncomfortable in this setting.

“i’m her boyfriend, hwa, and i know she’s fine. so fucking drop it. she’s around here somewhere.”

but that answer doesn’t quell the worry in seonghwa, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes at the endless horror stories plaguing his mind. they’re underage at a crowded bar with sleazy drunks and cops lurking - there are far too many things that could go wrong.

“then act like it, dickhead.”

yeosang just rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the group and dismissing seonghwa and the conversation completely. he doesn’t know how they can talk about his girlfriend missing to something as mundane as video games, seonghwa getting up with a huff and walking back into the bar.

he checks around the whole bar twice, nearing 1 a.m so the building is at its maximum capacity. but even then, he checks everywhere and doesn’t see you; he even asks girls waiting on line to the bathroom to see if you’re in there, unaware of the dreamy look in their eyes as they nod and hang on to every word he says.

“no one named y/n was in there,” they said a few moments later, an apologetic look on her face before she smiled flirtily. “did you lose your girlfriend?”

he rolls his eyes and thanks them politely, not giving her the time to give him some cheesy pick up line before he’s outside.

it’s warm with such a slight breeze coming off the ocean, looking up and down the block before the beach catches his eye. there’s a few people walking in the distance and he thinks it’s worth a shot, walking away from the bar and going down to the cold, grainy sand.

he’s walking for twenty minutes, about to turn around as he wonders why the hell he’s even looking for you, when he hears soft cries.

he can barely hear them over the sound of the waves but he definitely hears them, squinting his eyes in the distance to see a figure hunched over with their face in their hands.

he can tell you it’s you when he’s a few feet away, the way your hair’s falling and dress is riding up your legs. he swallows thickly, relief flooding through him as he looks over your figure quietly.

he could tell you and yeosang were having problems, could tell you’ve been having them for a few months by how often you and him would hang out at parties, but it seemed as if they were getting worse these days.

he saw it on the beach this morning, the way you went from smiling and laughing to disappearing inside the house. it bothered him then but he knew he shouldn’t butt in, waiting until you guys figured it out or handled things on your own.

but now he can’t just sit back anymore.

he’s seeing changes in his younger friend that he doesn’t enjoy; his drinking, his attitude, the way he’s treating you 90% of the time. and tonight had been the last straw for him, his blatant disconcern for you and your wellbeing completely rubbing him the wrong way.

he continues to approach you quietly, the sound of his footsteps in the sand causing you to look up.

the faint glow from the streetlights and moon cast light on him, calming you immediately as you look up at him. you feel the wet tears on your face but could care less at the moment, sending him a small broken smile that makes you feel pathetic.

seonghwa is similiar to mingi and san in the aspect that he’s able to tell something’s off between you and yeosang. not because he’s nosy (in the most concerned way) like the two younger boys but because he sees it.

watches you at parties and is usually the person sitting beside you on the couch while yeosang’s off doing whatever.

he moves slow and cautious, sitting down on the sand next to you silently. you can feel the heat radiating off his arm, not quite touching you but just a few inches away.

you’re no longer crying but tears are still on your face, leaving you wet and sticky and most definitely tear-stained.

“i don’t know what i did, seonghwa.”

the dirty blonde looks your way when you finally break the silence between you two, seeing your tooth in your lip and eyes strained on the dark, starry sky.

“we’ve been so weird ever since the semester ended and it’s only getting worse. i- i know that’s just how he is but he was like that in the beginning too but he would never ignore me. i don’t know what i did or why he started but it feels like we’re on our way to breaking-”

you can’t even say the words because it’s not something you’re ready to do. you still love him and there’s still hints of you guys as a happy couple, the way he holds you and kisses you and looks at you sometimes.

but the bad is outweighing the god these days and it’s hurting you. hurting you to the point that you’re here, crying on the beach to his best friend who you don’t even realize looks at you a little too long and a little too soft.

and he doesn’t even know what to say to you this moment. because he sees his friend is changing and he sees it’s effecting you; it makes him wanna go back to the bar and punch yeosang in the face, tell him to wake up before someone snatches you away and treats you the way you deserve.

“am i the one being stupid, seonghwa?” you ask again, turning to look at the boy beside you. “do i just have to like... get over it and try for him? try to enjoy all of this and be okay with mingling on my own?”

“you go out with us all the tie, y/n, how are you not trying?”

it’s the softest you’ve ever heard seonghwa’s voice, something about it bringing more tears to your eyes because it’s so obvious that you’re a mess.

“i must not be if he’s being like this. it’s like he doesn’t even know me and he just wants me to leave him alone. he- he even told jisung it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if we broke up, so why am i even crying?”

seonghwa feels rage bubble up in his chest at the thought of yeosang saying that, cracking his knuckles one by one until he’s facing you again. he doesn’t get how he can’t see what he’s doing to you or how he doesn’t care.

“he’s been different these past few months, i’ve seen it too, y/n, so it’s not you,” he assures gently, waning to reach out and touch your hand form comfort. “he’s just... i don’t know what the fuck he’s doing but he shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

you let out a sigh as you hide your face in your knees, tears leaking from your eyes again as quiet sobs leave you.

you feel seonghwa’s hand on your back a few seconds later, moving up and down slowly as you fall into him. you both just sit there on the sand, you crying and him silently comforting you as you try to make sense of this mess.

because even right now, with you gone and not saying a word, he doesn’t care. he’s not calling or texting or going to look for you. he just don’t seem to care at all.

“please don’t cry, y/n,” he mumbles quietly, his thumb moving up and down your skin gently.

but his words don’t help in the slightest. you just muffle your cries until you can’t anymore, peeking your head up as you wipe the wetness off your face.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, feeling embarrassed to have just cried your eyes out for god knows how long; but seonghwa doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, shrugging his shoulders with a small smile on his lips.

“you don’t have to apologize,” he reassures gently, sending a small smile his way.

you watch his eyes roam your face, dark eyes piercing yours in a way that you once found so intimidating. but you’ve gotten to know him so well and know how sweet he is.

how much he looks out for his people and that he’d really do anything for anyone.

“what?” you ask, feeling self conscious and seen. “are there tears on my face?”

“just a few,” he teases, reaching across to dab at the reamining wetness. you smile softly as he tocuhes your skin, watching him so gently reach over your face.

his warm fingers linger on you for a little too long but you don’t even notice, thanking him softly when he pulls back.

you lean back and are reminded of your first date with yeosang, on the sand that feels familiar and the sky with a bright crescent moon similiar to the one around your neck.

it pulls at something in your heart, how maybe you guys will never be like that again. how the honeymoon phase is just something that isn’t meant to to last htat long maybe.

it’s just a fleeting moment that you’ll remember in times like this, when it feels like you guys are about to fall apart.

tears prick your eyes again, a sigh leaving your mouth as you silently beg yourself not to cry again before seonghwa’s on his feet and reaching his hand down, like he knew you were about to blow.

you look at it with confusion, looking from his hand to his eyes looking down at you expectantly.

“come with me.”

“where are we going?” you ask, taking his hand hesitantly. he pulls you to your feet with ease, keeping you hands intertwined as he turns around and pulls you up the beach silently.

“seonghwa,” you whine, your bare foot tripping over the lumpy sand. he just grips your hand tighter every time you stumble, a quiet chuckle leaving his mouth that makes you narrow your eyes at him.

“you’ll see,” he says, eyeing you back just as sternly. “i past it on my way to find you.”

a dimly lit playground with swings and small, slightly janky jungle gym comes into your view, a smile lighting up your face as you turn to look at seonghwa.

“i don’t know how i missed this,” you tell him, knowing for sure you hd to have passed it on your way to the beach.

“you were too busy crying,” he teases lightly, a snort leaving your mouth as you push him gently. he narrows his eyes and pushes you back playfully, watching as you take off in the sand and plop down on a swing.

he smiles as you wave him over, moving the swing and pumping your legs as you hold your arms out to him. he walks over, leaning his head against the chain of the swing next to you watching you sit there and smile up at him.

“push me,” you ask sweetly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “please,” you add, wide glassy eyes and a sweet smile that renders him unable to resist. his warm hands rest on your back as he pushes you higher and higher, your eyes looking out into the ocean and sky as memories wrack your brain.

“when... when did you get that?!” you yelp, moving closer to his larger, warmer body to get a good look at it. “i didn’t even see you pick it up!”

“i was sneaky, right?” he teases with a wink, guiding you by the waist to sit down before placing the basket between you.

you barely notice the harsh gust of wind because of your excitement and surprise, yeosang’s hands draping a blanket around your shoulders before you can even shiver.

“i even packed the food. i didn’t really know how to be sneaky for that so it was pure luck that you went to the bathroom.”

and low and behold, when he opens up the white, woven basket, all the food you got was packed in perfectly. plates and utensils were strapped to the top with two small cups next to the array of fruits, cookies, and several ingredients for sandwiches.

you both happened to like cheese ones, your hands grazing and soft giggles leaving when you both reached for it in the frozen section.

“i... i can’t believe you did this,” you mumble quietly, feeling far more touched and happy than you’re willing to let on. “this is so cute. thank you, yeosang.

you shake your head from the memories, looking back to see seonghwa still pushing you with a content smile on his face. you stretch you legs to reach the ground, slowing down until you jump off.

you topple on the sand a little bit, seonghwa calling your name with a chuckle and watching as you steady yourself out. you turn to him with a smile, looking up at him in a way that causes his heart to jump in his chest.

he knows he has to ignore though. because problems or not, broken up or not, you’re still his best friend’s girlfriend.

but it doesn’t stop him from frolicking in the sand with you. following you as the playful spirit comes out from zipping down the slide or climbing on top of the monkey bars.

he grabs your leg that hangs off from the monkey bars, your whiney “seonghwa!” echoing through the quiet night air. his laugh causes a smile to light up your face, the two of you in the playground until your body is weak and you’re laid out on the sand.

seonghwa checks his phone to see it’s almost 3:00, wondering aloud if their friends are back from the bar.

and that’s the reality check you need. remembering that your boyfriend’s ignoring you, you don’t know he you did and his best friend is the one here - comforting you, making you laugh and keeping your mind off all the things that are making you sad in the first place.

it’s a very sobering thought that makes your smile fall off your face, jumping up from your spot in the sand as you look at seonghwa.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you guys walk back to the house in silence, arms bumping ever so often in a way that both of you try to ignore. because even if this felt right, even if your time with seonghwa always feels so right and easy, it feels right with yeosang too.

and it’s not like you can just have them both.

gong home to an empty house was incredibly sobering.

your bed was cold, the house was quiet and you had to muffle stupid, disappointed cries into your pillow until you fell asleep.

but there was someone else sitting in the living room, waiting for the moment his friends come back so he can tear his one drunken asshole of a friend a new asshole.

and that’s exactly what he did when he heard the front door open, wooyoung and san’s loud “heeellloo!” echoing through the house causing his head to snap toward the door.

the boys shuffle in, saying their hi’s to seonghwa as they filter in the kitchen and start to raid the cabinets for food. yeosang’s the last to get through the door, his stumbling to a minimum and glassy eyes observing the house carefully.

seonghwa feels his jaw clench, the two boys meeting eyes as the black-haired boy approaches him quickly.

“did you find her?”

“how’d you know i went looking?”

“do you think i’m a fucking idiot?”

seonghwa clenches his jaw again, cracking his tension-filled neck as he looks at his friend. the boys hold a dark, intense eye contact that goes ignored by the rest of the boys - too consumed by their need for food, drunken ramblings, and wooyoung crying about keeping the dishes to a minimum so he doesn’t have to wash them hungover tomorrow.

“she was on the beach crying,” seonghwa eventually bites back, looking at his friend with every hint of disdain and anger. “heard that you said it wouldn’t even matter if you guys broke up or not.”

“that fucking jisung,” yeosang grumbles, seonghwa rolling his eyes and getting up from the couch. he feels yeosang falling behind him, half tempted to tell him to piss off before they’re both just outside the dirty blonde’s room.

“what are you so mad about? she’s my girlfriend, yeosang.”

“and you’re treating her like shit, yeosang. you have been for months. leaving her all the time, barely spending time with her, do you even notice how much she fucking hates going to those?”

“but she still does?” yeosang says, face pulled into confuson and irritaiton - he doesn’t like the way he’s feeling attacked and defesnive. “i never force her to go.”

“obviously she’s gonna go for you,” seonghwa growls, confused as to how his friend is so stupid and blind about this. “because she loves you, yeosang.”

“i love her, too,” he says, “she knows how much i love her.”

the look soenghwa gives him cause his eyes to narrow, anger spiking in him as he pushes his frined back. seognhwa’s eyes flare and he has to hold himself back, knowing that he’s already not in a spot to fight over you.

“and if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you loved her too. running to her rescue right away and nearly ripping my head off before.”

seonghwa doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, the silence doing more than words could at this point. and even drunk, yeosang knows what it means. can see in seonghwa’s face and body language that he has nothing to say because, yeah, he might love her, too.

“bullshit,” yeosang blurts out, a look of shock and horror on his face. seonghwa only shrugs his shoulders, attempting to walk away from yeosang before he pulls his friend back roughly.

“are you kidding me? y/n? out of every woman in this world?”

“i don’t know, yeosang, okay. it just fucking happened. i wasn’t ever gonna say anything to either of you.”

“wow, how noble of you. but you run off to save her when we get ino a fight.”

“because you were being a dick and she was upset,” seonghwa growls back, balling his fists in a similiar fashion to yeosang. “but i didn’t say anytihng to her. i just called you an asshole and said you were changing. not that she should leave you for me, although i’ve been tempted to steal her from you.”

a laugh of disbelief leaves yeosang, his head shaking as he looks over his friend.

“you’ve got fucking balls.”

and if it were anyone else saying this to him, they’d be beaten to a bloody pulp. but yeosang knows seonghwa would never make a move on you, actively try to steal you and get you away from him even if he wanted to.

he even had sinking suspicos that he had feelings for you, catching the way he’d look at you or his gaze would linger for just a little too lnog.

but he trusts his friend and he trusts you.

he was just the idiot now, acting as if you ddin’t mean the world to him and he doesn’t love you more than anyone else in this world.

“i’m gonna go apologize to her,” yeosang says, his gaze meeting seonghwa and making the dirty blonde nod his head. “thanks for taking care of her.”

the dirty blonde only nods his head, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach as he watches him walk out the room and go to you.

yeosang walks in to se your sleeping form on the bed, creeping over to his bag and cringing at the sound of his zipper in the quiet room.

you wake to the sound of shuffling toward the door, eyes peeking open to see yeosang with his shirt off and slipping on pajama pants. he makes his way over to the bed, your eyes closing quickly as you attempt to keep your breaths even.

you think his soft chuckle is a sign that you’ve gotten caught, keeping up the act as the bed dips and he’s sitting beside you, running his fingers through your hair gently.

“i’m sorry, baby, i’m so sorry,” he hums quietly, keeping his eyes on you as a knot forms in his throat.

he hadn’t reaalized how much he’d been neglected you this summer.

how often he was leaving you and just being assured by the fact that you always had someone with you - mingi, san, wooyoung, even seonghwa, although that proved to be slightly dangerous now.

“i know you’re mad, love, but i’ll be better. i was shit faced when i said that to jisung and hyunjin.”

your eyes peak open, seeing his soft, apologetic eyes that makes a frown appear on his lips. your hand reaches up to touch his face, his skin smooth and slight sticky from the humid summer air.

“are you shit faced now? will you even remember this tomorrow?” you ask quietly, still hurt by his words and the way he acted.

he takes your hand from his ace and presses a kiss to each knuckle, shaking his head as he crawls into bed next to you.

“no,” he mumbles, positing himself close to your warm body. “i stopped drinking when no one could find you. your girlfriend going missing tends to sober a guy up.”

a small snort leaves your mouth as you shake your head, meeting his gaze with tired eyes.

“i wasn’t missing, i was on the beach.”

“with seonghwa.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, eyes roaming him carefully. you don’t quite know what to make of his tone or face, choosing to just nod your head in confirmation.

they had to have talked anyway - how else would he have known jisung told you what he said?

“i’m glad he was there for you when i wasn’t,” he mumbles quietly, a sad truth that he has to come to terms with despite knowing seonghwa’s feelings now.

“it’s okay, you’re here now,” you mumble, moving your body closer to his. he smiles against your head, wrapping his arm around you as he presses a kiss to your head.

but you can’t quite shake the feeling of seonghwa being there for you either.

the way he looked at you so sweetly and made you feel better with just his presence. his hold on you strong and gaze so soft, you can’t help but wonder if, somehow, you’ve also somehow fallen for yeosang’s best friend.

november - sophomore year

if someone told you over the summer that in four months, you’d be living with seonghwa and yeosang, you would’ve called them crazy. asked how the hell that arrangement came to be because why would a single man choose to live with a couple in the first place?

but really, the arrangement stemmed from all of you just having terrible luck.

you had started sophomore year on a terrible foot, not securing a single room this semester and getting a roommate you knew from the moment you met was gonna be a nightmare.

she was not only incredibly rude but messy. 

her clothes littered every inch of the floor by the second week of class and her boyfriend would come over at all hours of the day; you understood it was her room too but hearing them try (and fail) to have quiet sex at 2 a.m was not only disturbing but left you exhausted most weekdays.

“i can’t keep doing it,” you whined to yeosang, laid on top of him in his bed.

it was ironic that his apartment, the one with seven hyper active boys you once thought was the loudest place on earth, was now your place of solace.

it was where you went on weekends to get a good night sleep, not only quiet with no interruptions but incredibly comfortable with your head in boyfriend’s warm chest.

“i’m telling you, baby, ask to get a new room,” he says, a frown on his face at the bags under your eyes. 

his fingers swipes under your purple skin and you close your eyes at his gentle touch, always about ready to fall asleep when you’re with him.

“i did, they don’t have anything,” you whine, burying your face deeper into his chest. “i was even looking at apartments off campus but they’re all too expensive.”

yeosang quirks an eyebrow when he hears you say that, biting down on his lip as he contemplates telling you his idea.

because even before your terrible roommate dilemma, he’d been playing with the idea of asking you to move in together. you guys have almost been together for a year and this summer, even with the bumps in the road, had been nice.

waking up and going to sleep together every day had been the best part for him.always being with you and going about your day still with each other. food shopping, furniture shopping, even just watching tv in silence together.

he wanted more of that with you.

“why don’t we move in together?”

he doesn’t mean to blurt it out so harshly but the words just fall out, your head snapping to him with wide eyes.

“what?”

“i... i know it seems kind of sudden but why don’t we move in together? we can split the rent then,” he says, his arm wrapping around your waist tightly. “we basically lived together this summer and that was nice, wasn’t it?” he hums, grinding his body into yours a little too purposely to be innocent.

you roll your eyes despite the smile pulling at your lips, moving away from his chest to peer up at him.

could he be serious? does he really wanna live with you?

“would you really wanna live with me?” you ask quietly, his eyebrows pulling together at the meekness in your tone.

“of course i would, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to cheek sweetly. “why wouldn’t i?”

but even with his reassurance and sweet words, you still felt reluctantly.

it was a big step that scared you not only for financial reasons but because you know how you are. you couldn’t even have a roommate your first semester of college and now you’re gonna live with someone permanently?

but the more days pass with you living with your roommate, the more you realize you would much rather have yeosang. even if it meant taking a big next step with him as your boyfriend.

you walked up to his apartment ready to tell him you were ready to move in together, that you guys have to start looking immediately before you just insist on sleeping on the bench outside your dorms.

but when you open the door to this house, you’re met with chaos.

absolute, disastrous chaos. 

voices screaming, water everywhere and, most importantly, all of them running around shirtless and packing their bags; you suppose this is why yeosang hadn’t been answering your texts.

“um.. what is happening?” you ask loudly upon entering, all the boys heads snapping to you.

you’re able to make out the words water line breakage, flood, drown to death and parents house, the several loud voices rendering you unable to say or hear  anything properly.

yeosang pushes his way through and explains that their apartment is well on its way to being destroyed, a faulty waterline that the apartment manager didn’t take care of threatening to completely flood the building.

“what? where are you guys supposed to go now?!”

and that right there is how your current situation came about. 

moving into a one bedroom apartment with your boyfriend and his best friend, the black-haired boy looking over seonghwa with a particularly harsh look in his eye.

the rest of them were either able to secure dorm rooms at the boys dormitory or move in with their parents who lived close by - but seonghwa’s parents lived out of state now and the apartment he was one step away from closing on fell through, thus leaving him homeless.

this unsettled yeosang greatly, knowing his best friend was secretly in love with his girlfriend still.

“you’re crazy if you think i’d try anything with her at all, let alone with you fucking here, yeosang, shit.”

“i already told you just to tell her so shit doesn’t have to be awkward,” yeosang said, whisper-yelling as you set up furniture in your shared bedroom.

“telling her would make shit more awkward, she doesn’t have to know,” seonghwa argued back, looking toward the bedroom with a cautious look on his face.

ever since he outed his confession to yeosang this summer, he’d been trying to act like the same. 

distance himself physically but remain there for you emotionally - laugh with you, smile with you, act as a friend to you while not pushing the boundary when it came to how he felt about you.

“i don’t know how she doesn’t,” yeosang says honestly, looking at seonghwa with not a hint of anger in his eyes. “you make it pretty obvious.”

the dirty blonde narrows his eyes at the boy, punching him in the arm lightly before setting up the couch that now doubles as his bed - living like a true single bachelor.

you make your way out of your new bedroom, the house almost completely set up with furniture and decor. 

a frown crosses your face when you see seonghwa setting up the couch with pillows and blankets, poking the cushions with your finger as you look at him.

“seonghwa, are you sure this is gonna be okay? sleeping on a couch isn’t comfortable.”

“it’s a futon, y/n, they’re meant for that,” seonghwa teases, a small smile lighting up his face. “it’ll be fine.”

“but are you sure? what if you start to get-”

“he’ll be fine, baby,” yeosang says from behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle as his eyes bore into seonghwa. “you don’t have to worry about him.”

the dirty blonde rolls his eyes before looking to you, reassuring you with a small smile and nod. he plops down on the couch and adjusts himself comfortably, giving you a thumbs up as he looks you over happily.

“it’s good, i swear. it’s new so i just gotta break it in.”

“maybe you can invite a girl over. finally get laid,” yeosang mocks, seonghwa biting the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t say a snappy comment; but you, you of course, have other ideas about how to break it in.

“that’s a great idea! let’s have a movie night!”

and before the two boys can protest, you’re running off to your room and writing in the group chat for the boys to come over at eight with snacks and a list of scary movies to watch.

“she already runs the show around here, doesn’t she?” yeosang grumbles, a smirk crossing seonghwa’s face as he nods his head.

“duh.”

“duh! you never go back in the house, are they fucking nuts!?” wooyoung shouts hours later, the apartment completely dark apart from the glow of the tv and jongho’s pumpkin pecan waffles candle (the one he insisted on bringing to set the mood).

you share a knowing smile with seonghwa, the dirty blonde finding himself in the worst seat of the house - directly next to a chatty, exuberant wooyoung.

yeosang and hongjoong had jumped up and claimed the chaises of the other couch, you spending the first two and a half movies curled on top of yeosang until your side became numb and you stole mingi’s seat.

now you sat beside seonghwa, bumping his arm lightly and giggling any time he made a passing comment about wooyoung or the movie or anything else he found utterly stupid or loud.

“who do you think would be the first to die?” you whisper to seonghwa, a smirk on his face as he looks over at you. his lips quirk as he thinks, looking over the pile of his friends laid out in his new living room.

he catches yeosang’s eyes on him, the boy watching carefully before he looks back to the screen casually.

“definitely mingi,” seonghwa mumbles in your ear, a smile pulling at your lips as you watch the boy clutch onto a blanket tighter and bury himself closer to yunho. “he’s a coward.

“maybe,” you mutter, a yawn escaping you as you adjust your position on the couch. your curled legs hit seonghwa but neither of you move, pulling the fuzzy white blanket tighter around you.

“but i think it’d be jongho to be honest,” you mumble, tired eyes still focused on the screen as you him and talk hushly. “it’s always the person you’d least expect.”

a small chuckle leaves seonghwa’s mouth as he nods his head in agreement, wishing he could put his arm around you so you could fall asleep against him more comfortably.

but he just keeps his arm and legs against you, watching the movie until he suddenly feels the pressure of your head on his shoulder.

he looks down to see your eyes closed, hair splayed over your face as even breaths leave you. you look so at peace and innocent in your sleep, not even realizing when his hand reaches out to move away the strands.

his eyes move to yeosang’s when he realizes what he’s done, looking to the boy who’s still adamantly watching the movie and chewing on popcorn. he settles himself back and tries to relax, feel the warmth of your body on his and tries not to get to comfortable with how nice it feels to have you against him.

a small whine causes him to look down at you a few moments later, his hand reaching down to rub against your blanket-covered leg calmingly. he barely realizes he’s doing it, not until his phone vibrates next to him and he sees yeosang’s name appear.

his eyes shoot up to see the boy looking at him, jaw clenched and eyebrow raised as he nods his head toward his phone.

yeosang [1:04 a.m.] you’re pushing it dick. try not to look so happy about my gf sleeping on you.

the dirty blonde is quickly humbled, removing his hand from your leg before trining his attention back to the screen; but the scene is one yeosang can’t quite shake off.

not because of something like petty jealously or a bad feeling in his stomach. simply because it reminds him of the first time you fell asleep with him, just a random night where you dozed off on his shoulder and he thought nothing of it.

he was listening to the sound of your breathing, the tv just white noise in the background as his own eyes threatened to close.

you’d only been dating for a few weeks, enjoying the closeness that comes with watching movies as you both stay in for the night. he wasn’t quite sure when you dozed off, he just knew when he asked if you wanted to watch the next part of twilight, you didn’t answer.

(yes, twilight was your idea and no, he doesn’t enjoy it or want to know how edward and bella’s wedding is gonna turn out).

he deices to replay the first one, just noise to have on in the background as he starts to doze off himself.

he’s stirred awake, however, when your body lurches forward, a gasp leaving your mouth as you shoot up from your sleep quickly. his eyes are wide as he looks up at you, thinking you’re on the verge of a panic attack or nightmare and fully prepared to help in any way he can.

but he sees your eyes are more so full of shock, looking at him and the surroundings of his room like you can’t believe you’re still here.

“are you okay? what happened?”

“i... did i fall asleep?

“uh... yeah?”

you look to be in such disbelief, he doesn’t know what to make of it. is it that odd that you would’ve fallen asleep? it’s late and dark and you said you hadn’t slept too great the night before.

you look to see his face pulled in confusion, looking at you with a mix of concern and bewilderment that makes you shake off the weird feeling inside of you.

“sorry, it’s just... i can usually never ever fall asleep around people,” you explain to him, a problem since childhood that rendered you unable to attend sleepovers or even share a room with cousins on family vacations.

your parents and doctors said it was probably just that you weren’t tired but it felt as if they were deep rooted trust issues of some kind. not allowing yourself to be unconscious or unaware in the presence of other people.

but you didn’t realize any of that with yeosang; you’ve never felt as comfortable with anyone as you do with him.

“ever since i was a kid, i could only fall asleep alone. it’s like i was too scared around other people or something,” you chuckle out, a small smirk crossing yeosang’s face as he pecks a kiss to your nose.

“hmm.. guess you just really like and trust me, huh?”

yeosang bites the inside of his cheek as the memory comes back to him, watching as your sleeping figure moves closer to seonghwa with a content look on your face.

he can only smirk at the way seonghwa seems conflicted, looking down at you with the softest, sappiest expression he’s ever seen his colder friend wear before they move to him.

yeosang moves his eyes away, training them back on the terrible scary movie that, for whatever reason, has mingi absolutely shitting his pants.

the black haired boy wakes you up at the end of the movie, sitting on the other side of you and mumbling that he’s gonna bring you to your room. you barely stir so he lifts you up effortlessly, a tired whine leaving you before you smell his familiar scent.

your eyes pop open to see him looking down at you, a sweet smile on his face that causes one to break out across your own face.

“hi.”

“hi, love. you fell asleep.”

you nod tiredly, face red and hair messy as he places you down on the bed gently. you curl up and under the blanket, letting out a tired whine as you hold your arms out with a pout.

he snorts as he joins you immediately, moving in next to you and sighing contently when your head rests on his chest. his hand runs through your hair. gently, slow and calming in a way he knows will quickly put you back to sleep.

but he needs to ask you one thing tonight. he needs to settle this once and for all so he can stop his brain from racing and thoughts from spiraling.

“baby?”

“hm?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

even in a tired daze, the question throws you off.

makes you snap your head up and rest your chin on his chest, eyes narrowed and eyebrows shooting up your forehead as you look at your boyfriend of almost a year.

“what?”

“do you like seonghwa?”

he repeats it like it’s a simple question, so straight forward and casual that you would think he was joking if it wasn’t for how serious his expression is.

“i... you’re my boyfriend, yeosang? why would i like seonghwa?”

he bites his lip at the confused expression on your tired face, twirling a piece of your hair at the top before letting it bounce back.

“was just a question, love.”

you look at him in complete shock and confusion, trying to decipher any anger or jealously on his face.

“is it because i fell asleep on him? i didn’t even know, yeosang, i just-”

“no, baby, no,” he’s quick to assure, his hands cupping your face gently. “it was really just a question, okay? i’m not mad or anything.”

you look at your boyfriend but see nothing but honesty in his eyes, reluctantly nodding your head before resting your head back on his chest. he hums quietly as you close your eyes, his chest feeling different than seonghwa’s but still just as comforting.

you don’t even have the time to wonder why you’re even thinking about that, comparing yeosang and seonghwa’s chests and smells, until you’re fast asleep again.

it took four days for you to finally admit it to yeosang.

and it wasn’t even that you lied at the time he asked - you just didn’t even realize.

you didn’t realize that, for longer than you can remember, you might’ve always had a bit of a crush on seonghwa. entranced by his handsome face and the way he carried himself.

how he always looked out for you and made you feel safe and cared for despite not owing you a thing.

but it wasn’t something that was overwhelmingly noticeable. 

you hadn’t thought about seonghwa when you were with yeosang. you hadn’t wished he was him or that the dirty blonde was the one who let you borrow a pen the first day of college.

but you did eventually come to love seonghwa. 

depend on him and look forward to seeing him and knowing that, if you didn’t have him in your life, your life would feel emptier.

but why had yeosang asked that? did he know before you did? did he see something in the way you looked or acted around his best friend? why wasn’t he mad about it?

“we can have a talk about it if you want,” yeosang said when you confessed all of this to him, sitting on your bed with a heavy pit in your stomach. 

“in fact, i think we’ll definitely have to talk about somethings. but for now... i think you should tell seonghwa.”

and if this whole situation wasn’t bizarre enough, admitting to your boyfriend that you liked another man, that surely did it. your boyfriend telling you to confess your feelings to him even though he was his best friend and you two were very much together.

“what?”

“tell seonghwa that you like him, baby,” he mumbles, his hands holding your face gently. there’s so much confusion and hesitation in your eyes he almost wants to laugh but he supposes he can’t blame you.

this whole situation is weird. and he doesn’t know how he knows this is the direction your relationship should go - he’s just felt it inside of himself for the past few weeks.

“stop looking so confused and just trust me, okay? tell him you like him and see what he says.”

so that’s exactly what you do, despite all the confusion still swirling inside of you; because as confused as you are about this entire situation, it doesn’t take away from the fact that you do like seonghwa.

you love him, even. not just as a friend and someone who’s been there for you but more. the way you feel comforted by his physical touch, physical being, how sometimes you’ve felt like, if you didn’t know any better and if things were different, your lips would’ve met with no hesitation.

“i... we should get back then,” you hear yourself say. “i didn’t realize it was that late.”

it’s the reality check seonghwa needed to, that he shouldn’t be the one making you laugh and smile while your heart and mind are still plagued by yeosang. so he nods his head, rising to his feet and looking down at you for a few seconds.

you feel a lump form in your throat at the look he gives you, butterflies threatening to erupt in your stomach as his eyes roam every inch of your face. eyes to your hair to your nose to your lips, his tongue peeking out before he nods his head down toward the beach.

"lets go, then,” he says, ignoring the slightly dejected feeling in his stomach he knows he shouldn’t have. “they might be back by now.”

you find the dirty blonde in the kitchen, hunched over a pot of boiling water as he carefully puts in a bag of ramen.

“seonghwa?” you say, creeping up on him with your hands intertwined and a blush already creeping its way on your body.

“oh, hey, y/n. you want some?”

you peek over at the chicken flavored ramen, your nose twitching when you say the bold, red, spicy printed on it; he lips quirk up into a smirk upon seeing your face.

“sorry. forgot you don’t like spicy food.”

you watch seonghwa stand over the stove for a few minutes, plopping yourself up on the counter to watch him silently. he continues what he’s doing with your silent presence there, completely going about his routine until he tells you to sit at the table with him.

there’a few more moments of silence, just him slurping and your occasional laugh until he finally realizes you came out here to say something.

“so... what’s up?”

you peek up at the boy watching you carefully, slurping a noodle into his mouth and watching some excess broth fall into the bowl.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you wanna tell me something?” he asks, his questioning tone making your heart pound. “or ask me something? you’ve been playing with your fingers for the past fifteen minutes.”

you let out a sigh as you drop your hands to your lap, watching him with a look of mock disdain on your face; curse this boy for knowing you so well.

“it’s a little... random,” you begin, not quite sure how to approach this. 

you’ve never confessed to someone before, especially not per the request of your boyfriend, but you have to imagine these are all the feelings that comes with it.

nervousness in your stomach and warmth fluttering throughout your body, hoping and praying that he like you back because if not, you’re gonna ruin this friendship and that’s not something you want at all.

“and maybe even shocking. but... i think i have to tell you and i hope you don’t think it’s weird. it’s something i just realized within these past few days and i... i don’t wanna ruin anything between us.”

his eyebrows pull together at your words, dropping his utensils on the table as he looks over your face carefully. his stomach’s quickly consumed by nervous, anxiety-ridden knots, looking over your face for any hint of emotion.

but you just seem to look as nervous as him.

“you wouldn’t, you couldn’t,” seonghwa assures gently, his voice deep and soft as he speaks to you and only you; you’re freaking him the fuck out but he’s trying to remain as calm as possible.

“what is it?”

you bite down on your lip as you look at seonghwa, his deep brown eyes staring at you so intensely it makes your stomach flutter. you don’t know how you didn’t reaize sooner that you liked him.

“i.... i like you,” you tell him, voice shaky and soft but the words already out - you’ve said them and there’s no going back. “i like you, seonghwa. a lot.”

it feels as if there’s a giant weight off your shoulders the second you say it, the butterflies in your stomach at an all time high. it feels good to finally say this, finally realize and admit it and let it out into the universe.

“i think i might even love you the way i love yeosang. i didn’t realize because of him, i guess, but now i know i love you both. i don’t know if that’s normal or possible but i really do, seonghwa. i hope that’s not weird for-”

the first thing you taste is the faint spice of chicken broth, unfamiliar but remarkable lips covering yours that you meet back instantly. seonghwa hums against your mouth as he pulls your chair closer to him, the sound of it scraping against the floor going unnoticed by both of you.

you’re only consumed by the feeling of his lips, the small noises leaving your mouth and the desperation of his kiss. how it feels like he’s been wanting to do this for so long, kiss you and touch you and show you how much he’s loved you from afar.

his hand grips your face as he pulls you closer, his deeply mumbled moan of your name against your lips causing you to whine against him. allow his tongue into your mouth and giggle when they collide into one another.

all the kissing stops though the second you hear another voice, the sound of the footsteps approaching you before a hand smacks into the concrete wall harshly.

“i told you to confess. you guys are making out?”

february - junior year

the first thing you learned about polyamorous relationships was that they’re all very different.

the way they come about, the rules in which couples establish, how and why people choose to be in them. there’s not some one size fits all for any relationship in life and that stands true for you, yeosang and seonghwa.

admittedly, things were weird in the beginning. navigating between yeosang and seonghwa comfortably and getting used to having not one but two boyfriends.

there were insecurities to quell on both sides, naturally, and you learned how do that.

assure yeosang that he was enough and that you stayed in love with him for a reason. assure seonghwa that he was enough and that you fell in love with him for a reason too.

many reasons that all became too much and morphed into one another, rendering you, both, loyal and locked down to two men who constantly tested you.

the first test being the blanket dilemma.

without fail, no matter the weather and no matter the sleeping position, you woke up without a blanket. 

you were either curled into seonghwa’s warm body, your legs intertwined and his arms around you, or had your back trapped against yeosang’s chest.

his arms wound tightly around your waist, the steady rise and fall of his breath on your skin as seonghwa laid there with the queen size blanket half on him and half on the floor; that’s what this morning was like, too.

you slowly untangled yourself from yeosang, crawling over to seonghwa until you plopped yourself down on him clumsily. he stirred underneath you, attempting to move and stretch his body with the weight of you on top of him.

you bend down to peck his cheek lightly, smiling when his handsome, sleeping face barely changes. 

you decide to play a little bit more, moving your body back and forth against him teasingly. the movements somehow wake the black-haired boy next to you, his eyes popping open and a smirk on his face as he watches you grind against seonghwa.

“what are you doing, baby?”

his voice causes you to jump, a quiet chuckle leaving him as you move your arms to showcase the stolen blankets.

“he can’t keep doing this!” you whisper-scream, a look of frustration on his face. “every morning it’s either you or him stealing all the blankets and leaving us freezing.”

yeosang rolls closer so he’s in your warm spot in the middle, looking up at you as his hand rests on your waist. you’re only wearing one of his white t-shirts, your nipples peeking through the material not at all helping his morning wood.

“and you think grinding over his dick is gonna help?”

your cheeks flush as you stick your tongue out at him immaturely, tuning back to run your fingers through seonghwa’s dirty blonde hair. 

the slow, calmingly movements cause tired groans to leave his mouth, his eyes eventually popping open before a smirk crosses his face.

“hi, baby girl,” his deep morning voice drones, one hand slipping past your shirt to rest on your waist. “what are you doing?”

“you stole the blanket again,” you whine, the pout on your face one he just wants to kiss off with you on top of him like this.

“i didn’t mean too,” he hums, moving you along by the hips as he feels his cock grow harder. “you had yeosang to keep you warm, no?”

the two share of look, both of them more often than no waking up horny and ready to take you. it’s not something you’re ignorant of either, watching them look at you before, suddenly, you’re pushed down onto our back.

“because, you know pretty girl, we may take the blankets but you take up a whole lot of room,” seonghwa says, his hands running through your messy morning hair.

he’s never slept with someone who kicks as much as you. who, even though you’re the smallest in the bed, take up the most space by far.

“remember the night you almost kicked me off?” he hums, a smirk on his face at the memory. his hand trails down your face, thumb pressing on your lip before he moves his hand over your chin and down your neck.

yeosang smirks when he watches you swallow nervously, his hand on your hip slipping between your thighs carefully. he doesn’t make any moves to touch you, just holds your inner thigh and allows his thumb to move slowly up and down your skin.

“he’s got a point baby,” yeosang’s voice mumbles, slightly deeper than even seonghwa’s morning voice. “you do take up a lot of room for being the smallest one here.”

with their hands on you and an intense feeling building in the air, you’re quickly being humbled. 

seonghwa’s hand trailing over your white t-shirt until it’s ghosting over your nipples, the palm of his hand on the sensitive bud causing your breath to quicken.

or that could be because yeosang’s hand is so close to your pussy, just a few inches away from touching your bare, growing wetness.

“i... i don’t mean too,” you say, growing more and more submissive and ready to whine as your two boyfriends start to cloud your senses; you were scolding them and now you’re the one being punished - how is that fair? 

seonghwa’s hand gently guides your shirt up until your bare chest hits the cold air, a deeply mumbled “fuck,” leaving him before he dips his head down and attaches his mouth to your nipple.

you let out a surprised gasp, sensations of pleasure shooting right between your legs. yeosang is readily there with his long, skilled fingers, toying with your slit and teasingly running up and down the growing wetness.

“you might not mean to,” yeosang says, eyes peeking up to see seonghwa’s face in your chest and your mouth thrown back in pleasure. “but you still do it, don’t you?”

his finger slides into you easily, a loud moan escaping you that has seonghwa smiling against your boob. his other hands move over to tweak with your nipple, yeosang keeping up his movements as he curls his finger inside of you.

you’ve barely been up for ten minutes but you feel yourself about to come, both the boys far too skilled and ready to give you pleasure however and whenever you want it.

you cry out when yeosang slips another finger inside of you, seonghwa disconnecting his mouth from your nipple to kiss you deeply. skilled tongue slipping in your mouth as his lips part on yours and you’re kissing back just as desperately.

chasing your orgasm as your hips buck into yeosang’s hand.

“are you about to come?” seonghwa mumbles when he pulls back, his hand trailing over your neck and squeezing at the sides lightly. “has your pretty little pussy had enough? are you gonna come just from yeosang’s hand?”

“y-yes,” you moan out, hand reaching out to hold onto seonghwa’s shoulder. “and your mouth.”

“please, he didn’t do shit,” yeosang mutters, his fingers fucking into you with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

they both watch with lust in their eyes as you moan loudly, eyes rolling back as you throw your head into the pillow. yeosang removes his hand immediately, tapping at your hip gently.

“turn around.”

but seonghwa can tell immediately what yeosang wants to do, the dirty blonde slapping his hand away and instead gripping your hips tightly.

“you got to touch her,” seonghwa growls, bitter over the fact he didn’t get to make you ome first thing in the morning. “now i get to fuck her.”

“you waited too long to make your move,” the black-haired boy smirks, the double meaning in his words making him roll his eyes. “that’s why i got her first.”

“well, maybe if you didn’t-”

“stop,” you whine, the growing feeling of wet empitness making you frown at your two boyfriends. “one of you, please. the o-other can fuck my mouth. i’ll be good, i promise.”

seonghwa and yeosang share a look before the dirty blonde flips you over and pulls up your hips, rising your ass in the air as he holds himself on his knees. the bed is firm enough so that he doesn’t sink down, rubbing over your ass gently before landing a loud, resounding smack.

“you’re always good for us, baby girl,” he says, trailing his dick up and down your wet slit. “you’re always so so good.”

you whine as he teases you, knowing that, with seonghwa, it’s better if you’re polite and wait. he likes seeing you desperate and whining, always waiting until he says it’s okay to buck your hips or chase your own orgasm.

but he doesn’t give you the time today.

because one second you’re empty and wet and ready to scream and then the next, his hips are smacking into yours and he’s fucking the life out of you. snapping them just the right way and in just the right spots for you to be crying out into your hot and stuffy bedroom.

“seonghwa,” you moan, the slapping of skin and quiet grunts filling the room.

it’s all halted, however, when yeosang’s in front of you, his hard cock just inches from your face as he looks down at you. there’s a smirk on his face seeing you so fucked out and desperate because of them, guiding your mouth to him and smiling when you take his cock without a second thought.

your tongue laps at the tip, swirling around and around until you sink down on it further. you hold back a gag when he hits the back of your throat, your head getting into a groove that has yeosang cursing and groaning your name harshly.

“there you go, baby,” you hear seonghwa growl from behind you, his hand reaching around you play with your clit. “you take us both so well. filling you up and making you feel good, right baby?”

“r-right, seonghwa,” you moan, eyes rolling back when his cock starts hitting a certain spot inside you. he can feel you’re about to come by the way you tighten around him, by the way your head starts bobbing harsher and yeosang’s grunts grow louder and deeper.

“come first, baby. it’s okay,” seonghwa says, partially because they always want you to come first and partially because he knows he’s about to bust inside of you.

it takes you clenching and throwing your hips back against his for him to come, one last snap of his hips causing you both to release. you’re moaning against yeosang’s cock when he releases too, the vibrations and knowledge that you just came with his cock in your mouth far too much.

the room is a mess of bodily fluids, heavy breathing and sweat but it doesn’t matter. you collapse on top of the bed as seonghwa pulls out of you and yeosang massages the sides of your aw gently.

the black-haired boy mumbles sweet nothings to you as seonghwa gets a warm rag, cleaning between your legs before he kisses the top of your head sweetly.

“you did good, baby,” he mumbles, collapsing on the bed next to you and wrapping arm around your waist. the three of you lay in silence for a few moments, heart rates calming and senses coming back before yeosang looks at you with a soft, sweetness in his eyes.

“oh. and happy valentine’s day baby.”

you’ll never forget your first valentine’s day as a couple with yeosang and seonghwa.

it was only a few months after you confessed to seonghwa during your sophomore year, the three of you just starting out and establishing rules for your new relationship.

they had all been strangely easy to work out, the number one rule being to always communicate. 

be open and honest about everything one of you may being feeling, so there’s not a spiral of miscommunication and tears the way there was that one disconnected summer.

the transition had been strangely easy for all of you too, probably because yeosang knew seonghwa liked you way before he called his friend out.

the parts of it that had been hard, however, was something you least expected - telling the rest of the boys and reserving a table for three on valentine’s day.

“wait... you’re all going to dinner?” san asked, looking at the three of you with confusion on his face. “can we come? what the hell.”

“you’re not sending us off the bar again but instead leaving us alone? why can seonghwa go but not us? we wanna spend time with, y/n, too.”

“because i’m her boyfriend, bud. who are you?”

seonghwa’s deep, sarcastic voice halted all the whines and complaints immediately, everyone’s eyes wide as they look to yeosang. the black-haired boy can only smirk as he feels eyes on him, a reassuring nod that sends the house into chaos again.

asking what kind of swinger shit is going on and how long it’d been going on under their roof without them knowing.

“it’s not swinger shit, dickhead, we’re just both dating her. like... one cohesive unit that live together and take care of her. me and seonghwa both agreed to it. in fact, i think it was more so my idea.”

“it was definitely your idea,” you tell him, seonghwa’s arm around your shoulder as he watches you talk with  smile. “you’re the one who told me to tell seonghwa i liked him!”

a snort leaves yeosang and seonghwa as there’s a mix of different reviews in the crowd.

hongjoong and yunho are looking on supportively, the only two boys who had lingering suspicions about seonghwa’s feelings for you.

wooyoung, san and jongho are only slightly confused, a mix of happy and cautious like they don’t know what’s about to happen but are here for it.

and mingi is by far the most baffled, looking between you, seonghwa and yeosang before shaking his head in bewilderment.

"straight people are so weird.”

you nearly spit out your drink at dinner reliving the story with yeosang and seonghwa, the table full of meat, pasta and bread as you celebrate valentine’s day together.

going out on dates was something you also had to get used to, usually surrounded by lovey-dovey couples who only had eyes for each other; but for you guys, the dynamic was obviously different.

you’d hold seonghwa’s hand while smiling lovingly at yeosang. yeosang would have his hand on your lower back while you and seonghwa played footsie under the table.

if anyone were nosy or curious about your dynamic, they’d be able to pick up on it really quick - but you three didn’t care. it wasn’t anyone’s business but your own and as long as you guys were all happy, it didn’t matter.

“he’s such a little shit,” seonghwa mutters, a giggle leaving your mouth as yeosang raises a fork to your mouth. you open up happily, biting into a piece of chicken and chewing on the flavorful food.

you three eat until you’re ready to explode, seonghwa and yeosang splitting the check before walking out to your car. 

you half expect to go back home, lay out in bed with them and spend the rest of the night watching cheesy romantic comedy, until you realize you’re in the car for a while.

your head resting on the chair as you turn to look at yeosang.

“where are we going?”

“it’s a surprise,” he mumbles, your mouth dropping open as you look at seonghwa in the back seat.

“wait.. do you know?”

he shrugs his shoulders with a smirk pulling at his lips, a whine leaving your mouth as you wack both of them in the arms.

“that’s not fair! please tell me, too!”

“we’re almost there, baby, c’mon,” seonghwa mumbles, moving closer to take your face in his hands. “come back here with me.”

“no,” yeosang says, taking one hand off the wheel to hold your arm tightly; but seonghwa’s at an advantage, picking you up over the console and dragging you up and onto his lap.

he drowns out the sounds of yeosang’s yelling, securing you onto his lap as you straddle him with a chastising look on your face.

“that was dangerous,” you mumble, a snort leaving him as he shakes his head at you.

“it’s fine,” he mumbles, your lips meeting in a kiss that you meet back immediately. 

yeosang looks in the rearview mirror when he hears the sounds of lips smacking and muffled moans, throwing an empty water bottle that just misses seonghwa’s head.

“i’m not your fucking uber driver,” yeosang snaps, “don’t make out when i can’t join.”

“hear that, baby? he wants to kiss me, too.”

you muffle your giggles into his chest, seonghwa and yeosang bantering back and forth as you rest your head on seonghwa’s chest. he’s warm and toned underneath you, the gentle lull of the car causing your eyes to close.

you’re not sure if you fall asleep, you think you’re in that weird space of consciousness and slumber, when you hear yeosang mumbling your name. his lips are by your ear and you look up at him sleepily, a smile on his face when he tells you to wake up.

you look around to see you’re still in the car, the black leather interior one you’re very used to by now. but what you’re not used to seeing is the ocean outside the windows, a gasp leaving your mouth that quickly wakes you up.

you run out and onto the beach, yeosang trailing behind as he shouts your name with a smile.

seonghwa and him had already set up the blankets on the sand, a cooler full of drinks and snacks off the side.

“yeosang told me this was your first date,” seonghwa mumbles, his arms wrapping around your waist. “gotta admit, pretty smooth even for him.”

a smile brightens your face as you peck his lips, intertwining your hands before reaching out to grab yeosang’s.

you drag the two boys out to the freezing ocean, both of their desperate pleas to not freeze their balls off going unheard by you. you just giggle and pull them out further, squealing when the freezing water hits you feet and you jump up.

they both move to catch you, yeosang catching one leg and seonghwa catching the other as you hold yourself above them.

“baby, this was your fucking idea,” yeosang complans, the smile on his face proving he’s not bad in the slightest.

you frolic around with the two boys until your feet are numb. giggling and squealing when seonghwa catches you around the waist and pecking yeosang’s lips when you fall back and collapses on top of you.

“i love you,” he mumbles against your mouth, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you smile against him.

you spend the rest of the night cuddled between them, your head on seonghwa’s stomach as yeosang sits next to you, playing with your fingers and blowing hot air on your cold hands.

it’s calm and peaceful and everything you’ve ever wanted. 

there’s a different type of feeling in the air compared to the first time you were here with just yeosang, something that feels right and sweet and like without, both, yeosang and seonghwa here, it just wouldn’t be the same.

“i love you,” seonghwa mumbles when you look up at him, his hands twirling through your hair as he bends down to peck your lips.

all your cheeks are red from the wind and the tips of your fingers are freezing but you don’t wanna leave just yet. you just wanna stay here together, enjoy the silence and the crash of the waves and the occasional squawk of a brave seagull.

maybe even wait until the sun comes up to watch the sunrise, if you guys don’t completely freeze to death together.

january - senior year

your trip to the mountains doubled as a two year anniversary/graduation celebration.

the three of you were still as strong as ever, dealing with bumps in the road that all couples went through: fits of miscommunication, times of insecurity, even acknowledging that, sometimes, you need seonghwa and yeosang for different things.

seonghwa’s the boyfriend who understands you. 

is similiar to you and knows the way your introverted mind works. you go to him when you feel most uncomfortable in a crowd, like at frat parties or in bars where you know yeosang just thrives.

but yeosang’s the one who pushes you to do extraordinary things - maybe not even extraordinary, just things you normally wouldn’t do; he’s the one who pushed you to do you research with your professor that ended up allowing you to graduate one semester early with them.

so in order to celebrate, you three rented a house in the mountains with one bedroom, a giant movie room and a hot tub on the balcony.

spent a week in the snowy, picturesque country where you lounged around in bed, soaked in the hot tub and became even more sure that this is what you wanted for the rest of your life.

to wake up next to seonghwa and yeosang, even if it meant having the blankets ripped off of you in the night.

to live with them and build a life together with them, deal with the bickering that comes with dating best friends who have known each other for their entire lives.

to act surprised when, in a few years when you’re settled with jobs and a house, they buy you matching wedding bands to show off the fact that you’re theirs.

#very mixed feelings about this #u can absolutely tell when i was losing steam jfdkkdf #but whatever #happy vday get urselfs not one but two bfs #seonghwa #yeosang #seonghwa fluff #yeosang fluff #yeosang angst #seonghwa angst #seonghwa smut #yeosang smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #seonghwa imagines #yeosang imagines #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut

[cvtqr]

cammed

series master list

chapter one; touché, jaeger

content warning; public sex, cheating, wall sex, unprotected, cream pie, slight degradation 

the sun was setting as you walked out the front doors of your dormitory, closing them behind you. hearing your phone quietly ring, you pulled it out from the waistband of your skirt.

‘hello’

babe, are you guys almost here? games about to start and the other girls need historia

‘leaving now, hist just got here’

alright, if i can’t catch you before it starts we’re still on for dinner... right?

‘yeah of course. good luck reiner, win one for me.’

your life right now made you feel like you were in some cliche romcom. dating the college football superstar, best friends with the head cheerleader, all the cliches made you feel like you were still in high school. historia has been your best friend since birth, so of course the two of you hadn’t split up entering college. she had the cheer scholarship, you had the brains to get in with an application. you met reiner through mutual friends, but you couldn’t figure out why he fell for someone like you. usually, in the movies, the hot popular guy falls in love with the hot popular girl... but that wasn’t you, it was more like your best friend. you were more laid back, just wanting to get your degree.

your relationship with reiner was... slow, to say the least. it’s almost the end of your freshman year of college and he seems to be more focused on football than you. but you don’t blame him, he just wants to be successful with his passion. you do hate the fact that you have to take care of yourself all the time. he’s never able to stay the night, as he has training early in the morning. sometimes you wish that he could just be more available to you.

running out down the small path, you stopped in front of a car full of people. this was the way all friday nights were. you were picked up by a jammed pack car holding historia and a bunch of other people, before driving off to the football field. opening the car, it was really full tonight.

“you’re gonna have to sit on someone’s lap, just for the ride” jean said with a grim smirk on his face

“hist you’re tiny, sit on ymir’s lap”

ymir of course not having a problem, pulled the small blonde into her lap with a grin on her face. you then hopped into the car, taking historia’s previous spot.

arriving at the field, historia had to run off to her team and get a lecture by the coach on why she has to stop being so late. after giving her a hug for good luck, you wandered off to the concession stands.

“just a pretzel, please”

receiving your snack, you were about to walk over to the bleachers until you heard your name being called over the short fence.

“Y/N!”

letting out a sigh, you ran over to the voice calling you over.

“quiet down, unnecessary attention.”

lifting his helmet off, he used his large hands to pull your head into his, capturing his lips with yours.

“and? ya look pretty tonight, what if i want people to see my gorgeous little girlfriend.”

“don’t you have a game to play, tough guy?”

talking to your boyfriend, you felt like someone was piercing into the back of your head. people were probably watching the two of you, but no... that wasn’t the feeling. it felt like one person had their eyes glued to you. saying goodbye to your boyfriend, you started to walk over to the bleachers. they were packed with people and you had no one to sit with. your eyes started to scan looking for either bertholdt or colt, two quiet boys you seemed to get along well with.

bertholdt was reiner’s best friend. you noticed him the first time you met everyone. he was always following reiner around like a lost puppy, but reiner seemed to love his presence. when you and reiner started dating, he left you guys alone most the time, but he’s still was always around. colt you also met through reiner, on campus. you really strengthened your friendship after visiting reiners hometown over mid-winter break. while you and reiner were babysitting his cousin, her best friend tagged along, who was the little brother of colt.

you were getting a little nervous until you heard someone call your name and wave you over. jean kirstein, from the car. jean pissed you off on so many levels, but he also made you feel safe in a way. running over to where he was, you took a seat in between him and his best friend.

“hey marco! kirstein.”

“ouch... you’re so cold sometimes, y/n”

jean always had to make a dramatic comment no matter what the situation was. settling into your seat, you stayed quiet for the most part after that. the game was close to being over when you got up from your spot.

“gonna use the bathroom, ill be right back.”

you didn’t actually have to pee, just needed a moment away from the screaming and loud noises. running towards the extra, empty parking lot. you felt someone grab your arm, dragging you into the darkness. about to scream, you felt a hand cover your mouth.

“shhh, its just me.”

wiggling out of his grip, you pushed him into the brick wall. he let out a chuckle, surprised you could shove him like that.

“you dipshit, i thought i was getting kidnapped.”

you felt rough hands pull you by the waist into his chest.

“yeah well anyone would want to get their hands on a pretty girl like you, i’ve warned you about wandering at night by yourself... haven’t i?”

“touché, jaeger”

his slender fingers found their way up your thighs and under your skirt, teasing the hem of your panties.

“not here jaeger, i have to get back to-”

“back to the boyfriend, yeah.” - he didn't stop though, he snuck his hand down to make contact with your clit, rubbing small, soft circles around it. “remember our agreement though? if you want, i can break it... show everyone your-”

“fine. make it quick.”

“you don't make the rules here, ill take as much time as i need.”

eren jaeger was popular around campus, not in the same way as reiner though. he wasn't some big shot blonde football player, just well known for being a jackass. his reputation started in the beginning of the year. he was a pretty low-key guy, just down to fuck almost anyone who asked. but then he'd just break their hearts, but girls always still tried getting him to fall for them.

he released your skirt and pushed you back up against the wall. as you both switched positions, you could see the faint red in his eyes, pulled out by the street light.

his lips found yours, roughly shoving his tongue into your mouth. once he felt that was enough, he flipped you over on the wall. to avoid scraping your face or getting your shirt dirty, you pushed your hands up onto the wall. you heard the familiar unbuckle of eren’s belt, and the shuffling of him trying to free his erect cock.

brining his hand in front of your mouth, he cupped it a bit. knowing what he wanted you to do, you spit right into it twice. he then brought his hand back and lathered his cock with your saliva. pulling the bottom of your skirt up to your waist, he pushed your panties to the side before slowly sliding himself into you. 

not bothering to care about the stinging you might've been feeling, he brought himself back out before slamming right back in. repeating and repeating, going at a roughly fast pace.

“‘ren sl-... slow down.”

“shut up, whore. you should... fuck- should know your place by now.”

letting out a whimper, you felt your fingertips push so hard into the wall, bound to leave a scratch. you then had them peeled off the concrete wall, as eren pulled both of you backwards. pulling out, he spun you around and pushed you back up onto the wall. 

he brought your thigh up to meet his hip, before thrusting himself back into you.

“your little pussy takes me so fuckin’ well”

clenching around him from his words, you let your head fall down onto his shoulder.

“want me to fill you u-”

he was cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. brining your head up, you went to go pull your phone out and hit decline... but eren beat you to it. he took your phone and hit accept, holding it up to your ear.

babe?

‘r-reiner!’

nice win, right?

‘y-yeah you were... you were amazing as always’

cuz i was thinkin’ of you. anyways i'm heading to the locker room, you with bert?

you felt yourself start to panic at the heat of the moment. you were on the phone with your boyfriend as you were getting pounded by the biggest dick on campus. he was ruthless. not bothering to slow down or stop, he just thrusted in harder and faster than before.

‘no actually-’ you were about to let out a moan but you covered it up with a cough ‘just i-in... the bath- the bathroom’

you okay?

‘yeah i’m... fine, 'm fine. ill see you in a few’

alright, love you

‘i love, love you too.’

right when you hung up you choked out a load moan that's been building up. without warning, eren came and shot right up inside you. of course he wouldn't make you cum at a scene like this.

pulling out, he pushed the seeping cum back up with his fingers, before pulling your panties back in place and fixing your skirt. 

“now go hangout with your boyfriend while your full of my cum.”

“eren-”

he turned you around back out of the darkness and playfully smacked your ass before giving your back a little push.

“i promise i’ll make it up to you, now run along like a good girl.”

giving him a frown, you made your way to the exit of the locker room. you stood there waiting for reiner, clenching your thighs together. 

dinner with reiner was sweeter than usual. most times after a game you were dragged to a loud diner with all his friends, forced to hangout with them. but tonight, reiner just wanted it to be you and him. nothing special though, just a quick food joint. walking back to your dorm, you felt the guilt build up in your chest like it always did. 

arriving at the front door of your single-person dorm, reiner pulled you into a soft, sweet kiss.

“practice is canceled tomorrow, i can stay for once.”

of course, the one night you're stuffed to the brim with another man’s cum.

opening the door, you let him in. the two of you laid kissing on the bed, before he tried sneaking his hand up your skirt.

you felt yourself start to internally freak out. if he were to finger you right now, he'd just be met with a load of cum. 

“i-im on my period.”

reiner was always understanding, so of course he was in this position.

“ok, that's fine. we can just cuddle and watch a movie.”

“sounds good” after placing a kiss on his cheek, you got up to go put a pair of sweats on, before returning back to your bed.

he must've been worn out from the game, as he almost immediately fell asleep in your arms. you couldn’t help but feel guilty, thinking about eren. do you wish it was him laying in your arms right now? no. reiner is everything you could ever ask for. you knew he deserved the world, you don't want to hurt him like you are  now. 

but you knew what would happen if you didn't give eren what he wanted.

and that'd be even worse.

#aot smut #aot #aot x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #aot fic #attack on titan fic #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger #eren smut #eren yaegar #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #smut #anime #anime smut #eren yaeger smut

[dropsofletters]

though you weren’t mine [kmg]

—summary: new in town, with judgement following after every step she takes in life, the least she expects is to find a box filled with cd’s that reads ‘throw away’ written in messy handwriting on its cardboard surface. when looking at the videos, she realizes there is a highlight to her day—as if he was part of a sitcom, and his name is kim mingyu.

the downside? she doesn’t know where to find him. once existing in the same house as hers, no one knows where he went, but his smile remains petrified inside her head.

—title: though you weren’t mine —pairing: kim mingyu x reader —genre: photographer!au ; musical actress!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; videocamera!au —type: fluff ; angst ; suggestive ; romance ; drama ; humor ; slowburn —word count: 25,891 —warnings: mentions of alcohol, death (though briefly), and past relationships. 

Three onions. One head of garlic. Lettuce, clinging to the space in between his teeth and still, her seat companion in the train doesn’t close his mouth for the slightest bit.

As far as she knows—and it has been two hours of conversing with this man, so she’s knowledgeable enough to speak—, he worked in refineries. A little bit over seventy, with a white chemise cladding his body, tucked inside a pair of beige pants. The rounded glasses on the bridge of his nose keep falling, but he keeps playing with them as he speaks about the most miniscule of matters. For one, in 1997, his wife left him for his best friend, and secondly, his youngest is starting to look more like his (please, say ex) best friend with the passage of time.

Now, she is not a DNA expert, neither is she a fortune teller to be able to foresee the future when she got in this train, against her will, only to fulfill her biggest dream.

The city awaits her entrance, and when she gets there, she hopes to take a big bite of the world, mix dance and singing, along with acting, in order to further emphasize her spot in the industry. Break the malicious curse that follows everyone in her blood, only destroying their careers under the weight of their actions.

“And, you know what she did?” Licking the mayonnaise off his thumb after taking a big bite of his sandwich, the older male continues with his story as she lulls her head against the window. For one second, her eyes divert towards the pink clouds accompanied by lilac skies. Trees swing with the harsh wind, three days-worth of spending her time with Jinho over here sounding like the worst of experiences. “My daughter told me she doesn’t want to college after all. Can you imagine that? I paid for her education in four different majors, and she dropped out of all of them…because she wants to be, and hear me out,” As if she hasn’t been doing that for the entirety of the train ride. “A YouTuber.”

“Oh no.” Acting is her forte. Fake crying without a single droplet of water thrown at her face. Elongating words. Dramatics. All of the like—it’s what theater means, but at this point, her tiredness trails after her sentence. “Yeah, all that money…gone to waste…sir, that’s terrible.”

Just as terrible as the way he is eating this sandwich.

Smacking his lips once again, the man shakes his head. “What was your name again?” He asks, for the umpteenth time, and she lets her lips wrap around her name. She may change at this point, something easier, just so this man stops talking about himself and starts to be a proper companion instead. “Yeah, always be sure of what you’re going to do. There are millions of people you can disappoint, and they will tell you they will support you through everything and anything, but it’s a lie.”

“Ah-ha.” She drags, trying her hardest not to scrunch up her face. Instead, she rummages through the pocket of her black coat, looking for the perfect distraction that is her phone. “I think someone is calling me, Mr. Jinho, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Yes, yes!” The old man speaks quickly, taking the last bite of his sandwich only to speak with his mouth full after. “I hope it’s good news!”

After moving his legs from the side, she makes a bee-line towards the bathroom. Brown leather seats on each side of her, with people talking normally, softly, and yet, seemingly happier than her with her train ride. Her friends insisted on this—something of the like of ‘humbleness’ in their whole speech when giving her the train tickets that would take her to her newest pursue in life. Away from her well-known family, and the judgement that weights her down even when she opens the door to the bathroom and closes it behind her.

An unpleasant whiff of air has her sighing deeply. Great. The white tiled walls and sunflowers decorations do nothing to make her feel less like an outcast in this train. Though, she needs to sit down and look through her phone for a while, perhaps pee before getting out of there, and hoping that Jinho’s sandwich did its job in getting him to sleep. Her feet steps forward, putting down the toilet seat in hopes of not even seeing anything inside to compare to the smell in here, before taking a seat on top of the toilet.

Fuck my life, she thinks.

One day you’re at the top of the world, the next, you’re seated on top of a toilet with suspicious contents. Life, some call it.

As if the afternoon couldn’t get any worse, she unlocks her phone, a series of messages from her best friend appearing on the screen. God, she misses her. Leaving her best friend behind while having a medical emergency is one of the choices, she thinks she will never forgive herself for making. What kind of friend does that? She has no idea. Yet, Miyoung practically shouted at her to go follow that dream. The musical’s rehearsals started this month, and she couldn’t miss the opportunity of finally reaching proper stardom. Not word from mouth, but with actions instead.

Earlier, she had asked:

To: Miyoung.

How’s your foot doing?

Though, probably napping, it took Miyoung four hours to answer.

From: Miyoung.

Still connected to my leg, so far, so good.

But…haven’t you seen the news?

News? No. Well, if she’s not counting Jinho’s romantic history—and family timeline, at that—since 1991.

If the child isn’t really his…why would he be telling some stranger in the train?

To: Miyoung.

I was supposed to know any news?

From: Miyoung.

OMG.

Enter my account. Check your ex’s Instagram.

And tell me where we’re hiding the body.

Miyoung, God bless her, is the purest figure skater she knows. The woman follows everyone in social media without caring if they stepped on her heart with all her might, or did something to her friends. Her ex-boyfriend, a very famous comedian, is not the exception. While she had hit headlines for unfollowing him on social media—and vice-versa—, Miyoung does wonders on keeping her updated. Two weeks it has been since their break up, and she has never been readier to move on.

Though, upon opening his social media, she’s welcomed by the usual—parted black hair, curved eyebrows, downturned and bored eyes, with slim lips and a tall frame that bends against its will forward, his stance normally accompanied by baggy, stylish clothes that more often than not rake the smell of alcohol and weed. On this occasion, however, someone else clings by his side and the man does not have the utmost decency to make the picture a little bit less like it belongs to some raunchy college student’s Instagram profile.

His big hand, that linked with hers, and touched her skin in promises of forever, splays on top of the woman’s butt. Gorgeous in more ways than one, with long curled hair and a smile on her lips as he kisses her cheek. The worst part? That she dated someone who captioned this picture, with God-knows-what-kind-of-model, in the worst of ways.

Her stomach churns when she reads: “Here with the main bitch.”

Ugh. Delete all the kisses. Erase all the memories of ever sleeping with him. Create a time-machine so she can slap herself across the face and tell herself ‘he’s not even that funny, wake the hell up’.

To: Miyoung.

Ew.

From: Miyoung.

You don’t care?

To: Miyoung.

Of course, I care.

I kissed that.

I made out with that.

I let that fuck me.

From: Miyoung.

Sid-looking ass.

Fuck him.

All those times Miyoung told her not to date him, and there she was, making a fool of herself.

To: Miyoung.

We don’t judge people by their appearance here.

But he’s trash.

From: Miyoung.

Two weeks, girl.

It took him two effing weeks to get over you.

It shouldn’t hurt, right? Though, her heart contracts a little at the touch of disappointment. Never had she trusted someone as much as she did with her ex, and there she is. Forgotten. Mocked. Poked fun at.

The second bitch.

The ‘no-one-cares’ bitch.

Fuck.

To: Miyoung.

I’ll get over him too, just watch.

From: Miyoung.

Oh, babe, I know.

And you’re on your way to it.

With certainty, even in this goddamned train, with a smelly bathroom and a talkative seat companion, she can do it. Reach her dream. Get a name. Never need a man ever again.

Everything is going to be fine. It always is for her, and this won’t be the exception.

###

Everything is not fine.

Brick walls clad the building in front of her. Tall enough for it to even be considered a skyscraper, creating shadows across her body. The world is much bigger than hers, and yet, sometimes she thinks she is the center of it all. A white screen with black lines showcases the name of one of the newest musicals to be performed tonight at nine, but she can only imagine how her debut in the musical world will look like on her first night. Twinkling lights from the night falling in love with the title of her play—When The Kids Fall Asleep.

When she read the script, she was actually aiming to find some small spot in a TV series, waving in the back or saying three lines. Instead, she came across this piece of magic because of her manager, whom was once her mother’s manager. The story read almost like a book, the demos filling her ears when she asked for a demonstration for her audition, the story of four families that conjoined when trying to reach their dreams without telling the children about the hardships of the real world. For them, everything must be perfect.

Her character, she had fallen in love with. Poor yet leader-like through everything, trying to raise a three-year-old without making her miss a single meal. When she falls asleep, she has to live off earning money by selling meals and, continuously, finding it harder to feed her little family and working as a stripper.

Doing justice to such a role may erase the mistakes lingering in her past.

With a push of the door, the cold metal handle meeting her fingertips, a new world is introduced to her. Rows and rows of burgundy seats, all staring towards the not-so-empty stage. People scatter around, some extending their limbs, others taking sips of water, but the swish of the door closing behind her catches some people’s attention.

The director is someone she knows. The strands of her bleached blonde hair are pushed behind her ears, tightened by a hair-tie to keep it in place. A tall nose, plush lips, and a set of thick glasses meet her enigmatic, yet serious face. A black turtleneck covers most of her body, long limbs and stylized slender body making her look more like a model than a director. Practically glued to her chest is the printed version of the script, and the closer she gets, the more the golden lights scatter across Kaleigh’s body.

“Look at that, if that isn’t our fashionably late rock-star.” The chuckle that rips through Kaleigh’s lips fakes every single emotion that could be mustered in this situation. A sharp breath in makes her curse herself internally. Well, she’s definitely not used to having to take the subway…and definitely not use to people not waking her up. Her manager is there for that, but now he’s too far away from her to actually work as a babysitter, as well.

“Sorry,” She breathes out, hands threading with the straps of her hoodie before smiling softly. “I…I didn’t know how to catch the subway.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kaleigh asks, mocking tone in her voice ever-present, clapping her hands together as if watching the most ridiculous of comedies. “Your family isn’t famous enough for you to act as if you’re out and about in limousines.”

Truthfully, yes. A family of rock-stars, like her mother, that happened to leave the band in search of a better chance, only for her first solo album to fail in the charts. Of models that never went past the runways. Of singers that remained as one-hit-wonders and producers that never got to have names remembered in the world of music. It’s always a peak and then a downfall for her family’s curse.

…But, she does have enough money not to worry for the rest of her life, so there is something good about being criticized throughout her entire life for the family she grew up in. “Well…no, but I’m used to people driving me around. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Upon sparing one glance towards the stage, Kaleigh must understand that she wants this conversation to be over. “Whatever,” She instructs, deep voice lingering with tiredness. “This is your team. You can get to know them as you practice. This is the first time the entire cast is together.”

Her eyes scan towards the groups of people, all of which she had studied from the printed version of the script she read when Jinho had finally fallen asleep on the train. Thank God, she almost thought that man was going to get off the train with her and follow her around. One of the male leads, she recognizes as Jaehyo, tall and over his thirties, short brown hair accompanying widened eyes, almost deep-looking. A vibrato to die for, as she saw per his audition.

“You’re Jaehyo, right?”

The man looks up from his script, a crooked smile appearing on his features that perhaps, gives him the attractiveness of that one friend’s young dad that she would look at when she was a child, unaware of why her cheeks would heat up at the mere sight of him. “You know me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Going up the set of stairs, she looks around the room once again. Small woman, black short hair, a rounded face with speckles of brown across her cheeks, matching her orange blush. The best dancer of the team, definitely. “And that’s Sue. She plays Joah’s character.” Of course, how could she not? Joah is one of the background characters, but thrilling in its own way. The owner of the strip-club, and the one that takes care of the children in the house of the four families, trying to paint a perfect picture of broken shreds. “And you are—”

Upon pointing at the woman seated by the edge of stage, the light wood carving against her uncovered, toned thighs, she hears Hyun’s sharp tone. The main star, the oldest child—twenty-one, that figures out that her mother is a stripper and goes on a rampant of wanting to take over the same steps. She’s a triple threat, that’s for sure—singing like a goddess, dancing like she belongs to the stage, and acting like she lived through the same experience.

“Are you over with your little Wikipedia search revising speech?” Hyun says, moving her long brown hair away from her shoulders to look at her with sharp almond eyes, her plush lips pursed, though still beautiful with the blaring anger inside her casting over her features. “You’re late. We don’t have time for you to play the fangirl character.”

Hyun stands up at the same moment that she shares her anger with everyone else in the stage. Jaehyo, on one hand, is the one to speak up first. “Hey, we weren’t even waiting for that long—”

“So, just because she has money, we have to excuse her diva behavior?” Running her hands over her gray shorts, Hyun gets in position, staring at Kaleigh.

“Look who’s talking.” She spits out, looking up and down at the woman that she had once thought was the best addition to the team, now seems to be up and against her, ready to blare Achilles’ cholera all the way towards her. “The only one making a fuss over me being twenty minutes late here is you—”

“Because my time is valuable, unlike what you think.” Hyun responds just as she gets close, sparing one glance towards Kaleigh. “Right? I’m the main lead. If I can get here early, so can you.”

“Shit, sorry.” She whispers, a frown appearing on her features. “I’ll make sure to get here two hours earlier because your character is so much more important than mine.”

“Well,” Kaleigh interrupts at that moment, hooking her fingers around one of her dangling diamond earrings. “It’s not wrong. Hyun is our star. If she gets here on time, so can you.”

Lowering her head just at the same time that a smile appears on Hyun’s face, she sighs. “It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Her dream scatters right in front of her, both from her wrongdoings and for the way that Kaleigh looks at her up and down, before nodding. “Doesn’t matter. We can work on various things as you’re here. You have a lot to improve.” Kaleigh answers, a smile reaching her cheekbones. “For now, just stand in the back and watch the professionals do so.” Her hand extends towards Hyun, exclaiming her utmost ambition and hope for her presence in this play.

“For every scene?”

“Yes. You can dance in the back.” Kaleigh finalizes with a tilt of her head. “Ah…does that bother you?”

“Well, if I’m in the back for every scene, I won’t be able to deliver my lines properly—”

“Honey, here’s how this works—” Kaleigh starts, extending one leg in front of her before playing with the edge of her script. Never does she break eye-contact, even when she is stepping on her heart. “You are new, but you aren’t new to the public. You’ve dated a few good names, appeared on magazines since you were a child…and you’re kind of good, but we’re aiming for publicity here. If you’re here with us, we make this play more profitable and, hence, we can continue displaying it for however long they let us. And, with the passage of time, you can step forward and be looked at more…but you’re not as good as the rest, as easy as that.”

Then, why did she get accepted? Once again, the light of her family’s curse casts down on her, creates shadows on the kind of person she can be. Just when her lips are about to part, trying to shelter her pride with the utmost knowledge of how this industry works, Kaleigh claps her hands together.

“In your spots. First scene. The kids are waiting behind the stage, I need you to deliver those lines as if you’re in the verge of hunger. And you better be, we’ll be here the entire day.”

It’s not like how she imagined it to be. So far in the stage that she can’t even see the seats, the light casting down on Hyun even when she is not in the scene. Her voice dulls, every line coming out of her lips with less enthusiasm as the practice passes by. Just a publicity stunt, that’s why she was accepted. Tears weld up in her vision, and they are not exactly her character’s…but now she is here, and she has to make do with her dream.

###

There’s one point of a person’s lives where they can no longer see their friends as much as they hope to. Life gets busy, some create families, others hunt for their biggest professional goals, and then, she’s left in solitude, carrying the boxes that were left outside of her new house by the moving truck. Spacious, perfect for two to three people, and yet only there for her to live in. Somewhere in a suburbs-like spot, with plenty of families staring at her as a groan leaves her lips upon the lumbar ache on her back. Whatever. If normal people can do it, so can she.

The trees on her front yard move with the wind, same as her hair, trying her best to go up the set of white stairs that lead to her gray doorstep, the ‘welcome’ rug in front making her feel less like this is her home. Her friends and family are not here, and the friends that she has here are too busy with their own lives to help her unpack as much as possible. Along with that, she has to go over her lines and avoid delivery in order to use the kitchen as much as possible.

When she drops the last box on the living room, the gray tiles and the white doors giving an elegant vibe in contrast to the cardboard, her hands rest on her waist. The only thing she has managed to do after getting home from practice three days ago was construct some shelves for her TV, and put a bed in the bedroom to sleep in, but other than that, the house is empty. The couch welcomes her weight when she throws herself over it.

Okay. It could be worse. She has a ceiling over her head.

…And a mattress, a kitchen, a TV and a shelf.

But she has worn the same clothes at home for the past four days.

Lifting the white sweater up to her nose, she sniffles deeply. Clean, apparently, but that’s something she has to deal with as well—laundry as soon as possible, because of her amount of outfit changes during practice. Her eyes close tightly, as if she would be able to ease the headache appearing inside her head in the matter of seconds, but when she opens them again, she’s welcomed by the same white shelf she constructed, and the little wood shelf by its side that came with the house.

Though, it’s more like a cabinet, there’s a door to it, and it’s not locked, swinging back and forth with a squeak. Maybe, she should get rid of that before actually starting. Standing up again, each muscle hurting from endless hours of practicing and now for carrying around seven boxes inside her house, her slippers clank against the flooring until she kneels in front of the cabinet, opening the door and sighing out of glee of not having to hear the movement of the wind against it.

A box is inside, the words ‘throw away’ written in capitals and blue marker ink. Better follow what the owners wanted, it could be some haunted doll that she has to get out before it eats her alive at night. Though, just as she lifts the box in between her hands, ready to throw it away or recycle it, the bottom portion opens, letting a bunch of CD’s fall on her feet.

Ouch, but also, huh?

Is this the old owner’s porn stack?

She should just throw them away, but when her fingers wrap around the CD’s, she reads the titles written in the same blue ink. Anniversary. Date. Bed. New York.

Ooh, bed sounds kinky…

Is it an amateur sex tape?

Better check it before she throws it away and people look through it, right?

Thankfully, numbers are scattered across the CD’s, small enough for her to almost ignore them, but upon grabbing her laptop from the coffee table, she slides the CD in. All in order, she starts with number one.

Maybe, a sex tape would be better…it wouldn’t have captured her heart quite like this.

###

01: NEW YORK.

“Ah, Kim Mingyu, don’t leave me behind like that!”

Groups of people scatter in front of the recorder. Tall buildings, in colors from grays, blacks, whites to browns, read out the typicality of New York, as per the title. Bustling, with barely any space from one person to the other, like lovers marching on their way to success. The person with the camera lets it shake a few times with her steps, the tone sweet and melodious as she calls out the same name again. Kim Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. Babe.

Definitely her boyfriend.

Upon reaching a wide back with a navy-blue thick coat thrown over it, the person with the camera expands her free hand on his back, sharp breaths leaving her lips, trying to regain her composure. She moves over to the side, finally showing the face of the culprit of her distress. A car passes by so fast that it swooshes his hair, the brown strands moving away to showcase his gorgeous golden skin. Not only is that gorgeous about him, but the fold of his romantic eyes, one squinted as he holds a camera up his face, taking a few pictures of the Times Square, accompanied by his defined nostrils, straight nose and dried, thin lips that he licks in the matter of seconds before looking over towards his girlfriend.

God has favorites.

“Log number one of the lives of Mingyu and Yoona. We are out here in New York to celebrate our second anniversary, isn’t that right, Mingyu?” Her voice is dulcet enough to compete against popsicles and candy. Mingyu seems to sense that, a twinkle in his eyes when looking down at the person recording him.

But he’s a camera person, she can tell that much. When he turns towards the camera, he extends his arms as wide as possible. “We’re here to celebrate two years of me standing Yoona and not dying in the process.”

Yoona slaps him in the arm for that comment, laughter ripping from his lips. “No, say why we’re really here.”

Mingyu looks around for a second, grabbing her hand before dragging her along through the busy streets. “I’ve always wanted to come to New York, so I thought that coming with you would be the best way to experience it.”

“And why are we recording us?”

“…Because I plan to audition for Hollywood so we can be like Brad and Angelina.”

“…They divorced, Mingyu.”

“They didn’t.” Mingyu replies, though he is clearly in the wrong. “Why would they—?”

“Because people get divorced, Mingyu.” Yoona reasons, far more knowledgeable than her boyfriend. “But be honest, why are we recording ourselves?”

At last, he looks away, the timer of the video growing smaller and smaller as he stares ahead. Slowly, a smile takes over his features, filling his cheeks when he says: “This is log one of the videos we’re going to show our children once we become a family in the far future.”

“Or not so far.”

Staring into the camera, Mingyu shrugs. “You never know.”

And that’s how it ends. With that precious smile of his giving hope to those who don’t believe in love, for it’s clear that he’s in love with whoever is recording him.

###

02: BED.

The door of what is now her bedroom opens up in the video, the same recorder not knowing how to keep the camera upright as she moves toward the spacious bed. Her knees hit the bed, stealing a huff away from the man thrown on the bed as his hands come forward just as his body does, grabbing the culprit that interrupted his sleep by jumping on him.

“Morning, morning, birthday boy!” His face is much more swollen than in the last video, his dark hair tousled everywhere as his eyes squint, try to look at the camera before closing entirely, throwing himself back in the mattress with a sigh.

“I’ll go back to sleep.”

But, Yoona keeps pushing, resting her weight on top of Mingyu, showcasing the pictures of them splayed on their respective bedside tables, before patting her hand against his cheek. “Wake up, it’s April 6th.”

“I know that day it is…” His voice drags, pressing his cheek to the white, comfortable pillow that seems to include a dampened spot created by him.

“Okay, kids. You may watch this ten years from now or something, let’s hope your dad isn’t as grumpy in the mornings as he is right now.” Yoona instructs, jumping a bit on his abdomen only to watch him not relenting at all. “Your dad was born on April 6th, 1997—” Oh, same year that Jinho was left by his wife. What a coincidence. “Shall we sing happy birthday for him?”

The video ends with a smile appearing on Mingyu’s face the more the song goes on in that lulling voice, reaching upwards to steal a kiss from her only for the camera to cut short.

The guy’s charming, she’ll give him that.

###

07: DRUNK.

Mingyu’s flushed face seems a bit older, his hair pushed away from his face as he rests his forehead against the refrigerator. It’s not the same one in her kitchen right now, but the division is the same, so it’s technically still in this house. Only when Yoona comes close to him, stumbling a bit on her steps, does he look up, waving his hand at the camera, the sleeve of his white and red sweater coming down his hand.

“Min…gyu…” Yoona has trouble forming coherent sentences, though Mingyu’s smile is ever-present. Happiness bleeds through him when being with her. “Mingyu, dance for the camera. Make that money worth, baby.”

The man chuckles, lifting his hands in the air and swinging his hips from side to side comically, earning a few whistles, howls and cheers from some people, perhaps equally as drunken as him, only to end up getting close to the camera and saying, with his handsome features pressed up close to the device:

“I wanna throw up.”

This video definitely has a smile plastering on her face. Funny.

###

10: ANNIVERSARY.

“Kim Mingyu, welcome to our log. We haven’t talked here for a while.”

Mingyu looks away from the scenery outside of the car, perhaps a taxi given by the position, moving the hood of his black sweater away from his head and fixing the sunglasses on his face to rest just at the tip of his nose to look at the camera. “You’re recording again?” Mingyu asks, though he is already waving at the camera and by the lack of response, she must have nodded at him.

“It’s October 13th, that means we have been together for three years.” Yoona starts, just at the same time that Mingyu grabs her hand, brings it up to his lips and presses a petal of a kiss to her knuckles. God, she should really stop watching this if she doesn’t want to feel lonelier. Why does she always pick the bad ones? Yoona has good tastes! “What are your thoughts on love, Mr. Kim?”

Mingyu leans his head back, though he looks at her from the corner of his eyes. “Stop calling me Mr. Kim.”

“Okay, go on Kim Mingyu.”

“It’s alright to just call me Mingyu.”

“I’m the one with the camera, shut it.”

Though, the man in question tries to find the right words, a goofy smile appearing on his features before extending his hands, as if further help himself explain. “Love is comfort? It’s what you expect, really. Ah…everyone thinks, at least once in their lives, that they are going to find someone and then, you just do.”

“Mingyu,” Yoona threatens, somewhat of a hiss to her tone. “What a bad answer.”

“It’s an answer!” He replies, widening his eyes and lifting his tone comically.

“And how did you know it was me?”

Mingyu pauses for a second, his lips joining together to give a tight-lipped smile before shrugging. “I just knew.”

###

13: RING.

“It’s recording.” A joyful voice, though belonging to a man, speaks from behind the camera before Mingyu lowers his weight to stand in front of the camera, taking off his black hoodie to wave.

“Hi,” Mingyu instructs, though the busy exterior must be getting him nervous, looking around before smiling sweetly. For one second, he looks like the modern version of a Prince. “I’m here today to buy Yoona an engagement ring. Seungkwan is recording me…and…yeah, I’ll just show you the process of me finding the perfect ring.”

Though, the man recording is more given to being on camera, turning it around and moving to Mingyu’s side so they are both in camera. His bright red hair and innocent features match his overexcited nature. “Welcome everyone. I’m here because my ring size is the same as Yoona’s. Mingyu and Yoona—”

Mingyu chuckles, hiding his hands behind his back before shaking his head. “This is not a broadcast, dude.”

“What do you know, Mingyu?”

The rest of the video displays memories of Seungkwan speaking into the camera and recording Mingyu as he picks the perfect ring. Rose gold with five diamonds, one that says costs him more than he even has and made him ask for money from all his group of friends.

Love has a meaning then.

###

14: I SAID YES.

This video is much shorter, though she can already recognize Seungkwan’s lively voice as he records the lovely couple. Yoona, with her bangs falling across her forehead, thin lips and big eyes stares up at Mingyu when she hugs him, his knees dusted because of his kneeling position in front of her. The ring dazzles against the light of the salon they all find themselves in—perhaps, some event, with pink balloons and golden decorations.

Mingyu, as happy as ever, wraps his arms around her waist, lowering his lips until they connect with hers. Not missing a bit, a smile appears over his features, as per usual with Yoona, but the woman only displays her ring to the camera.

“It’s finally happening!”

###

31: DELETE.

Yoona spends two good minutes talking about the wedding, the decorations, the elegance of her designer dress that she paid too much for. Definitely not in their ordinary room, the city twinkles darkly on the opened, spacious windows of the hotel they are staying in, the beige desk and the champagne curtains matching. Her hair is shorter, her voice different, fixing her eyelashes and her bangs as much as possible whenever she speaks.

Mingyu lowers his weight beside her, resting his cheek on her shoulder just as she is speaking, but she cuts herself off to look over her shoulder. “Mingyu…” Her voice lowers, taking his face in between her slim hands to look at his features. Ready for bed, he seems to be, dark bags surrounding his eyes and the figure of a shadow around his lips making Yoona shake her head. “You haven’t shaved and the wedding is tomorrow. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

For someone’s whose language had been lively and lovely throughout the recordings, this surprises her. What happened to Yoona? Mingyu stares up at her, pushing his hair away from his face. “I’ll shave tomorrow,” His smile falls then, frowning up at her. “If I shave now, it’s not going to be perfect tomorrow.”

“You look disgusting with that rat on your face.”

“It isn’t even noticeable, come on.”

“Of course, it is!” Yoona complains, huffing when she leans back on her seat, bringing her knees up her chest as she has a stare-off with Mingyu. Before he could say anything, she interrupts him. “I don’t even know how I’m going to kiss you tomorrow with that thing—”

Mingyu stands up then, pointing at the camera as he snaps, getting away from the main screen. “It’s not like you do anything remotely nice anymore unless you’re recording us.”

Yoona looks over her shoulder, talking to Mingyu. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The only moment you’re truly happy with me is when you’re talking to these nonexistent children of ours—”

“You said you wanted children, Mingyu.”

“…I do, but it’s—it’s not—to have children, you have to do more than just record the good parts of your relationship to show them just how perfect their parents were.”

Yoona scoffs, rolling her eyes while looking at the camera. “Well, I thought I had a perfect boyfriend, you see, but the more comfortable you get, the stupider you become.”

Mingyu stops on his tracks, moving over to the camera before placing one hand over it. Though, by the ministrations and the movement, Yoona seems to flick it off. “Turn that shit off.” He threatens, voice levelled, only to have her shaking her head. “Yoona, I said to turn that shit off. I’ve recorded every time you wanted, but it’s enough. We already—”

“Did I ask for your opinion, Mingyu?”

“I—”

“I didn’t ask, so keep it to yourself, okay?” The man actually listens, biting down on his bottom lip before rushing his hands through his hair a few times, grasping at his scalp one last time before moving over to the mattress. Yoona checks if he is around one more time before leaning her weight forward, resting her elbow on her desk. “Like I said, my dress is by Belle Epoque—”

Though, she can’t bring herself to watch any more of the last log, meant to be deleted.

###

In the middle of the night, lacking sleep yet raging insomnia like it is her job to blare thoughts inside her head as per musical notes, she figured out something. Nonsense is timeless, and staying in the far back of the stage, along with her companions, only to make Hyun shine the harshest is not what she imagined when moving out here. It’s not what she desired, and it’s not going to happen.

The instrumental of Jaehyo’s first solo runs through the empty stage, three hours earlier than Hyun could ever get to the practice room. The man gives a few steps forward, extending his arms on each side of his body as if to ask for instructions.

When calling her name, he adds: “I don’t know why we’re here.”

Though she pauses the instrumental, there is certainty in her voice, pushing her messy hair back, trying to unglue her eyelids that remain touched to the other because of her lack of sleep. One sip of caffeine should be enough for now. “It’s not fair that we’re getting pushed to the back when we have solos. Hyun shouldn’t be the main dancer of your solo.” She instructs, staring at Jaehyo’s surprised expression. “So, we’re preparing something else to show to Kaleigh.”

Jaehyo chuckles at her words, rubbing his hands against his face. “I don’t think she’s going to accept it.” He tells, letting go of his cheeks to add. “Hyun is, also, too much of a strict main for me to go against her just like that—”

“You’re thirty-five Jaehyo, grow up.” Her words come out harshly, days of standing Hyun’s verbal stabs catching up on her. Take for example Kim Mingyu, the God made Prince in the videos she watched. Gorgeous, elegant, somehow sweet, and yet, following through with a marriage that probably made him unhappy in the long run. She doesn’t have the time to lose the opportunity of shining. “…You’re excellent with choreography, and I can help with some of the vocals—”

“I think she’s right.” Sue says after slipping out from the back of the stage, the red curtains dragging over her body, much more energized than anyone in this room. “Hyun is the most talented of our team, but we are not Hyun and her little group of backup dancers. We are also characters.”

Nodding, she agrees. “Exactly.”

Jaehyo looks back towards Sue, then up again at one of the youngest of the team before rolling his finger in the air. “Okay, start the instrumental again. I think I can make up some new moves.”

Jaehyo’s body moves with precision, professionalism at its finest as he makes every step count into the road of heartbreak that his character finds himself to be in, driven by addiction, stopped by his reality. One arm forward, fingers curling with each word he says, notes hit at the same time that his lines are delivered. The talent in the room palpitates with what Kaleigh can’t see, a trio of people who would love to work with Hyun but end up down-casted by the light of her endless talents.

Hours pass by, and she is reminded why she started liking musicals on the first place. Seated on her grandmother’s lap, on the first row of Broadway musicals, staring at the dancers and the actors, the way a story could come to life with the three best versions of art. A nod of her head, a hum of her voice, a vibrato or two, a falsetto when she’s feeling brave…it all comes together with a version of When The Kids Go To Sleep that the world deserves to see.

Though, the middle of the morning hits with the entrance of another person. The doors open, closing harshly behind the culprit, interrupting the line that she is breathing into the air continued by elongated, quickened steps. When she stares ahead, past the rows of empty seats, she sees Hyun’s small face, her typical sport-like outfit cladding her immaculate body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, newbie?” Hyun asks, not even conscious of her steps as she goes up the set of stairs and stands in front of her. The music comes to a halt thanks to Jaehyo, whom rushes down the stage with a jump and pauses the Bluetooth speakers, but she isn’t back down. Not with this bitch.

“Practicing, babe. What do you think I’m doing?”

“Ruining the musical, for example.” Her reply has her balling her fists. Not that she has ever been part of a physical fight—oh, but she has been close, and she thinks that if she can land a fake punch for a scene, a real one shouldn’t be that difficult. “…This part of the stage…” Hyun steps forward, tapping her shoes against the spot she was in, jutting her chest outwards to bring her back. “This is mine, and you have to earn this spot—”

“Stop it with the dramatics, God. We’re not in High School Musical, stop acting like a child.” She groans out, throwing her head back at Hyun’s antics.

“You say that because you’re just used to things going your way. So, the pretty little princess can’t get used to being shadowed for once.”

Sue takes this moment to step forward, placing her hands on both of their chests. “Hey, let’s stop this—”

“Fucking whatever celebrity passes by you didn’t work for you, and that’s your fault. Now, this is my dream, and you don’t get to ruin it because you feel like the attention is not on you for once.” Hyun continues speaking, lifting her voice with each moment that passes. Pushing Sue to the side, she gets closer to her, breaths mingling with the nonsense she is speaking into the air. What does she know about her past what the media says? Judgmental bitch.

“You don’t know me. Stop talking as if you do, bitch.”

“Oh, baby, a bitch?” Hyun asks, placing one hand on top of her chest before chuckling. “Ouch. What level of bitch? The usual, level one bitch or level ten, horny bitch like yourself?”

“Regret that.” She pushes, wrapping her fingers around Hyun’s shirt to bring her closer, only to watch the woman chuckle.

“What? You’re going to kiss me like you do with every little celebrity friend of yours?”

Fire bursts within her vision, not counting her breaths when her free hand comes forward and slaps the woman across from her straight on the cheek. Two steps back make her realize exactly what she did, Hyun’s smile faltering with the gasp that leaves her lips. Her chest heaves up and down, hand tingling and burning under the weight of her ministrations…but fuck, it felt good to shut her up for once.

The media has portrayed every mistake, blown it out of proportion, and made a mess out of her life. She was never judged as a normal person, but as the daughter of celebrities instead. It’s not fair for whatever the media portrayed to continue to follow her even when she’s trying to earn a name for yourself.

Sue exclaims at that moment. “Stop it, you two!” Resting one hand on Hyun’s shoulder, she helps her up only to have Hyun walking forward, ready to retreat the precious gift of pain. “Hey, no! Stop it!” Sue tugs Hyun by her small waist, trying to keep her in place.

“Who’s the bitch now?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you—”

“Stop it!” Jaehyo screams from his spot, coming towards the stage again. For someone who avoids arguments, he seems to be angered. “Let’s just…let’s just wait for Kaleigh to get here, practice, and forget this ever happened, okay? We’re a team, we’re not here to harass each other.”

Though, not a single word comes out of her lips, but a glare from Sue tells her that she needs to speak up. “Okay, I won’t do it again.”

Yet, when she turns around, tears weld up in her vision. A broken dream, her pride shattered, and a past that will follow her whether it is true or not…that’s what her life will always consist of, no matter where she runs up to.

###

First month in the new city, and the only thing that keeps her sane is the box filled with CD’s that she keeps inside her shelf, watching Mingyu’s face and smile whenever she needs to remind herself that there are good people in this world.

Sure, flowers don’t bloom in everyone, and what is shown on the recordings could be a bettered version of Mingyu. She knows what it is like to be portrayed as someone else in front of the cameras, after all. Yet, the rosiness of his tanned cheeks and the smile on his features speaks about something inexplicably thrilling. It makes her care about what happened after. Why would they leave all those CD’s behind, and had their marriage work?

Out of her thirteen neighbors, twelve don’t know a thing about him.

It’s a cycle, with the harsh sun confusing the endless wind falling on her back. One door opens, they welcome her into the neighborhood, ask her how she’s doing and they answer her questions.

Do you know who Kim Mingyu is? Yes, of course, he lived where you live right now.

Do you know what he does? No idea.

Do you know what happened to him, per chance? He left one day without saying a thing.

At this point, she may believe that Kim Mingyu was a ghost, and that was the reason why no one ever saw him leaving, or knew why he left. Confusion takes over her—for once, she doesn’t know why she is looking for the man that has brought her comfort for the past month, because nothing would come out of it. It’s not like she’s a fan of him, and will eventually end up meeting him and say: ‘Hey, watching your videos before your relationship fell apart made me feel better because you have such a welcoming, goofy personality’. Yet, there she is, standing in front of the final house of the block, ringing the doorbell on the pristine white walls.

A cat purrs once the doors open, escaping the confines of the home to twirl around her legs. The old woman in front of her, however, does not seem to mind her pet being so sweet, tugging at the edge of her long flowery dress, hunched over as she barely walks, a gray braid falling on her shoulder. A dulcet face, though much older than ninety, accompanies the lonesome woman who smiles at her presence.

“Oh, you’re the pretty girl that just moved in here, right?”

Well, that’s something new. She hasn’t heard much compliments ever since she got here—burn after hit, hit after burn, all coming from her endless hours of preparing for the first night of her musical, and the ones to come. “Depends on who you ask.” She jokes around, extending her hand to greet the woman in front of her. She outs her name into the comfortable atmosphere around them. “Yes, I’m the new neighbor. Nice to meet you…you have such a pretty home.”

“The smallest of the block, but the sturdiest.” The old woman gets out, able to capture anyone with her words. She leans her weight against the doorframe, a tired sigh leaving her lips. “Hye-Eun, that’s my name…and that’s my cat Rose.”

Kneeling down to scratch Rose right on her neck, she hums. “She’s so pretty.” The orange-furred cat seems to understand her, pressing her cheek against her knee before she looks away from her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Hye-Eun, but I have some questions about the previous owners of my house that no one has been able to answer me—”

“You’re not interrupting a thing. I was just watching TV.” Hye-Eun admits.

“I’m glad.” It’s all she seems to be doing these days, too. Not going out. Definitely not spending her time inspecting the city. Instead, she’s either practicing or tiredly lounging around the house. “…Do you happen to know what happened to Kim Mingyu, the owner of the house?”

Hye-Eun stops for a moment, bringing her hands up her nose to rub at it before smiling. “He was a cute one, wasn’t he?”

Heat takes over her features, for she does not shy away from any man…but the stranger has something in him that puts her heart inside a carrousel and gives it a million twirls. “Indeed.”

“He left the day after his wedding. I’d say…about a year ago.” Hye-Eun, for seemingly being so old, captures the date well. One squint of her eye keeps her going, trying to recall the details. “He didn’t leave with Yoona, though. I remember because he brought me some food before he left. Such a caring boy…”

Her judgement may not be the slightest bit wrong about him. A smile appears on her features when she takes Rose in between her hands, looking at the cat’s face for a second before continuing to rub over her fur. Very calm for a cat, actually. “What was he like?”

“Enchanting, really. He used to greet everyone, play around with the kids when he could…he is a photographer, so he took lots of pictures in our neighborhood.” Mingyu sounds much like the man in the recordings so far. Had Yoona been the only one pretending, or was that just a little fight in their relationship? “A little bit dumb, but the sweetest of men are like that. Though, forgetful, too, he never came around after leaving.”

She doesn’t know him and yet, at times, when she doesn’t see his videos for days, she starts to miss his smile. People around the neighborhood, or the ones that truly intertwined with him, must long for his presence. “Seems like his wife was a lucky one.”

“She was.” Though, Hye-Eun says something else about the woman… “Pretty, but too controlling. Mingyu was just too stupid to notice.”

Those words have the smile on her face faltering. “…Really?”

The relationship that she had judged as normal on the first place, now seems to fall on the weight of Yoona’s wrongdoings. “Yes.” Hye-Eun finalizes, nodding her head before smacking her lips together. “But I know nothing else. Sorry, honey.”

“No worries, Mrs. Hye-Eun.” She finalizes, giving Rose back to her owner before resting her hands inside the pocket of her jeans. A photographer, brand-new feelings blossoming with his marriage, Mingyu sounds like one hell of a picturesque man. “Thank you for your help. I’ll get going now.” With a bow, she turns around, ready to take off to her house, when Hye-Eun speaks from her spot.

“He’s a pretty one, isn’t he?”

She stops on her tracks, looking over her shoulders. “Pardon me?”

Hye-Eun rests a kiss on top of Rose’s old cheeks before she chuckles. “A woman doesn’t go around asking about a man through a neighborhood just because.” Though, she has some reason there, if Mingyu is a married man, why should she care? “…Watch out for that heart, honey.”

“Oh no, Mrs. Hye-Eun, I’m afraid you have misunderstood—”

“I haven’t.” The sweet woman says, a smile appearing on her rounded features. “…Just, be careful, okay? Mingyu is the kind of man anyone easily falls for.”

Crossing her fingers across her heart, she replies: “I promise those are not my intentions, ma’am.”

With a chuckle, Hye-Eun takes a hold of her door, ready to close it when she finalizes this conversation. “It’s not what you intend to do, but what you’re actually doing.” The door closes, and she watches Hye-Eun retreat with her cat.

Why is she looking for Mingyu on the first place? Perhaps, a part of her wants to meet him—see that smile from up close and ask what happened to his relationship.

But that’s not her issue, not her position to be in, and that’s the reality of life.

###

“How many times do I have to tell you not to add new steps to the choreography?”

The baby wipe rubbing against her skin stops her motions along with her hand, looking at Kaleigh’s reflection on the mirror, right next to hers. The white lights cast down on the entirety of the face, one half sporting the bruises and dirt on her character’s face, the other completely void of makeup. Kaleigh, however, looks as put-together as always, moving her glasses, holding her script to her chest and pursing her reddened lips when she raises her eyebrows.

“I thought it’d look better, sorry.” Though, Jaehyo and Sue do it at times as well, choreographies and lines that they have worked on behind Kaleigh. They never get repercussions, aiming to be the very best brand of musical actors, but in her case…it’s always a bad move. With the passage of time, her confidence in her talents has deflated. “It won’t happen again.”

“You say that all the time.” Kaleigh answers, looking down at her script with a sigh before flicking a few pages. “And you, still, can’t go to the front. Hyun has worked on her dancing and her physique more than you have, so…stay back.” Though words hurt her more and more each time, digging against her heart like a sword twisting and twisting, opening the wound with more force than the last time. Yet, she only nods, knowing better than going back home and proving everyone right about the curse that follows her family.

“I will.”

“…I don’t want to tell you this, but another mistake, and I’ll kick you out.” Kaleigh, always strict, finalizes with those words, not knowing how to be softer. Little did she know that she left her figure skater with a broken foot at home, only pushed into the train because everyone insisted on her following her dream. Miyoung is much better now, but she can’t follow after her dream anymore. She keeps going, but at what cost? Showing the people that love her that, for once, she is not just some celebrity’s family member?

More often than not, she wants to package her bags and go back home. Wrap her arms around Miyoung and cry for both of their dreams. Buried deep, aching, bleeding. Instead, she watches Kaleigh retreat towards Hyun, sharing a smile with the woman and words of endless praise that should be for her.

Not to be misunderstood. Hyun is as talented as a person can get, but her outward hate towards her and the rivalry she started out of nowhere affects her. What was once admiration towards Hyun now translates into anger, pulsing envy that has her looking to the side as Hyun downs her fifth energy drink of the night. Her pupils dilate, eyelids blinking rapidly, chest heaving for a second as her fingers twirl one against the other. She stares at herself in the mirror, far away from taking off her makeup, before releasing her lines once again under her breath.

She’ll give Hyun that she’s a hard worker, but more than five energy drinks in just one afternoon practice?

The recital is getting closer, pamphlets thrown around, social media presence starting—and the interviews will inherently come soon. Yet, Hyun seems to be under a lot of pressure, the strain of one of the notes she whispers into the thin air coming from endless hours of rehearsing. Main lead but still very much human.

She shouldn’t give a shit. Hyun can start peeing orange like the color of the energy drinks she is having, and she shouldn’t mind, but what does she do instead when leaning against her seat and looking to Hyun’s lonesome speech?

“I don’t think you should be drinking that many energy drinks.”

Hyun looks different when she looks over to her. Her eyes seem to be unable to close, bottom lip stuck in between her teeth, dragged across the surface before tilting her head to the side. “How about your start minding your own business?”

She shrugs. This is a woman, after all, and they may be miles apart personality-wise, but she can’t bring herself to look at Hyun ruin his own health just to function a few more hours on stage. “Well, it’s minding my business. I don’t want to be the one to take you to the ER when one of your kidneys explodes.”

Hyun scoffs, moving her hair away from her face before looking back at her reflection in the mirror. “I’d rather die than share a car with you.”

Why does she even try with this one? It’s clear that she won’t ever let herself be pampered, even when she worries about her health. “You know what? Invite me when that happens. The happiest day of my life, for sure.” She replies, rubbing on her face harshly, not caring if she takes off the entirety of her makeup before tossing her bag over her shoulder and getting off the chair.

When she gets out of her second home, the city welcomes her. Bustling lights, passing cars, the speech that never stops…and yet, she can’t bring herself to like it. She’s one hair away from losing it all—the opportunity of being in this musical, that is, bringing her character to life, but if she doesn’t lose that…her pride as a person will be stepped on.

God, she really needs to stop caring about the musical for once. Her character is different from who she is, and too much practice is about to make her turn out crazy.

Her phone comes up to her ear as she starts walking to the subway, calling one of her friends that live in the same city as her, hoping for an answer when she says:

“Drinks tonight, babe?”

“For sure!”

###

For once, she feels like herself. Stepping out of a taxi, with the night biting at her naked legs, and fashion cladding most of her body. A tight red skirt rests under her bright pink coat, the low neckline of her white shirt showing a sensual side of her that only the cameras had seen, back when she went out partying in her hometown. Lowering her sunglasses from her head to her eyes, she takes a bite of the pizza in between her fingers when her friend closes the taxi’s door behind them.

“This is the best lounge in the entirety of the city, trust me.” Dasom’s pink hair swishes with the wind in inexplicable ways, but the smile on her mischievous features only highlights when she wraps her arm around hers. Dasom had been having dinner with her just a few minutes ago, over some bottles of beer, when she decided a lounge would be much better for them. Music. Dance. Perhaps some people to talk for the night. “Besides, there’s a lot of high-end people here.”

She met Dasom while in high school, where the woman peaked thanks to a viral video on the internet. To this day, she is remembered for it, but her fame hasn’t gone much further. Education aside, she seems to just enjoy the moment. “Wait, can’t I finish my pizza?”

Taking the slice of pizza from her hands, the cheese and sauce concoction ends up on the sidewalk, thrown there by Dasom. “Stop eating. We’re going to have fun and help you forget about your image for once.”

Upon entering the lounge, clouds of red and blue merge together, music boosting the bass through the walls, people cheering with their glasses up in the sky, bodies clinging to one another in a dance. Somehow, it feels like a party, and Dasom never misses one of those. This night doesn’t seem to be the exception, her heels clicking against the black flooring with white speckles as Dasom moves her through the masses of people.

“You didn’t tell me it was going to be a party.”

“Never trust a Gemini.” Dasom instructs about herself before smiling softly. “We’re going to be fine,” She instructs, wrapping one arm around her shoulder before extending her hands to one of the tables. “My friends are over there. We’re going to grab some drinks. And we’re going to have a good time, isn’t that right?”

“…Well, I guess.” Finally, the hazed nature of her happiness comes through, following after the steps of someone more knowledgeable about nights like this. She needs to let go, feel as though she doesn’t care for one night, and if a few shots and shared laughter aims to do that, so be it.

Motions blur one with the other, alcohol passing by her throat, numbing it with each taste. She winces most of the time, but the smile after the hiss is worth it. Pictures come from the night, though she doesn’t know who she is posing with, loving the pineapple in cocktails and the way her body swings as though the denim never restricted her legs. The night casts its light on her, the starring role of a movie that she doesn’t quite remember—but damn, it’s a good time. For once, she doesn’t have to think.

The bad thing about sudden, palpitating happiness is that it dissipates in the matter of seconds. Shots of alcohol are a distraction, not a source of dopamine.

“Dasom!” She shouts her friend’s name, stomach hunching as she steps away from the groups of people. There are a bunch of people with rosy hair in here, or maybe, she is too drunk to tell who her friend is. Her hands wrap around a handle, apologizing when coming in contact with the steady and strong body of the body guard before stepping on the sidewalk, hurling forward until she empties the contents of her stomach.

Yeah…alcohol is not her thing.

One of her earrings falls down, a wince following the action before she spits on the floor. She doesn’t feel any better, and she imagines she’s going to be here for another second. Her hands rest on her thighs, letting the world see her and the cars passing by on her worst of states. Worst of ideas, it was, but she can’t quite regret it when she’s beyond tipsy.

Someone rests their hand on the sleeve of her coat, pulling it up her shoulder before patting her back. Sobs rip from her mouth, lungs contracting and breaths suffocating with the sickness that revolves her stomach. A soft, yet somewhat confused, voice talks to her, rubbing circles on her back in the process.

“Hey, everything is going to be alright. Just breathe.”

Tears mix with her mascara, touching down to her worn-out lipstick as she breathes out: “I—I can’t…I feel so sick.”

This is a man that is talking to her, she can tell that much, but when he fixes her tangled hair from her earrings and continues to speak words of comfort to her, she can’t figure out anything else. A lisp is there, that’s all she can tell. “Oh no. You’ve drank too much.” Unsure of what to say or do, from her peripheral vision, she can see the man looking around the streets. Brown hair, glasses, and a black cardigan, but she doesn’t remember anything else. “I’m here with you. Calm down.”

Before she could say anything else, her stomach lifts its contents and she brings her weight forward once again.

From the faint distance, she can hear a small ‘ew’ from the man.

“Shit. Are any of your friends here?” With the smallest of nods, the man complies with another question. “W—What’s her name?”

“Kang Dasom.”

“Kang Dasom. Kang Dasom. Okay. Okay, I can do this.” More-so talking to himself, the man retreats from his spot beside her. Gone, like everyone, leaving the drunken, sobbing mess that is herself at this moment, it’s not a surprise that he left her to go find her friend. However, his actions say otherwise. “Hey, guard! Can you go look for Kang Dasom inside? I can’t leave her alone.”

Once again by her side, she wraps her fingers around his taut forearm, lifting her gaze for one second, but unable to make out a figure of his blurred features. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be.” The man in question instructs, slipping his backpack off one shoulder before taking out a bottle of water, flimsily giving it to her. “Take a few sips, please.”

She does as he says, letting the cold liquid go down her abused throat, the man’s warm fingertips rubbing the tears away from her cheeks before she sighs. “…Thank you. I must look so…wacky.”

At the adjective she uses, the stranger chuckles. “It’s a new fashion trend, don’t worry.”

Smiling lazily, she hears the sound of the door opening, her name breathed out by a worried tone. “Oh my God, sweetie! I couldn’t find you anywhere!”

Dasom’s arms wrap around her body, not caring that she is smelly, just vomited, and that she’s head over heels drunk. “It’s okay…” She breathes out, feeling her stomach calm down at the touch of the lulling water, but Dasom pulls away to look at her.

“It’s not okay! God, anything could’ve happened to you…”

The stranger speaks in a low tone, playing with whatever is hanging from his neck. A necklace? A camera? A bag? She can’t tell. “I have to go back to work. Is everything going to be alright?”

Dasom looks at the man for one fraction of a second before humming. “We’ll be fine, thank you.” Though, she doesn’t get enough time to say anything to the stranger with the familiar voice, instead sucking in a breath when Dasom takes her by the waist and drags her towards the edge of the sidewalk, eyes already trained on her phone. “I’m going to call our taxi. We need to take you back home.”

The night wasn’t so bad, at least, for she realized there are still good people in this world.

###

All her life she has lived in the backseat, now she realizes.

Shadows of mistakes, people in other cars able to see her, but with the motion, she never captured a glance of them. People judged her, but they never stopped to see the real image, the driver and where it was taking her, how the road was and how the breeze could change the trees, the weather, and the time when everything happened. It’s not what she signed up for, but it’s the only thing she has known.

She knew the media before she even knew what a friend was. Learned how to look at the camera even before she learned how to speak to someone while staring at them face-to-face. Her name was said by other people, strangers at that, before she even knew how to spell it or write it. It’s not what she desired, but she keeps going. Her hands extend to continue with her dance routine, stepping forward just for one second, knowing that this is the only moment to shine. One of the few moments she is not the little girl everyone expected the worst from.

Look at what you’ve become, she wants to tell herself. You’re halfway through being an artist.

One day until her first performance in front of the crowd, and she’s ready to take it like a champion. Good or bad reviews, whatever happens is the source of her hard work—rather, it’s outcome. Her sneakers dig into the stage. Her stage that she shares with amazing people, and if twenty seconds of singing is all she gets, it’s what she is going to hold onto.

Upon reaching her mark, she feels a log—a leaf in her road to autumn. Her body proceeds to fall upon losing her balance, knees digging into the wood, creating dents in the skin, burning at the touch when her hands expand to stand her weight. Her chin hits the floor, but the masked laughter that comes from the person by her side shows the culprit. Baby blue sneakers, toned legs, and that malice that conceptualizes.

Kaleigh stops the music, fixing her glasses before sighing deeply. “Are you trying to kiss the floor?”

She sits up at that moment, her fingers pointing at Hyun by her side. Supposed to be her companion in this scene and yet, destroying everything that drives her to her dreams. “Ask the one that jutted her leg forward so I could trip.”

“I didn’t do such thing.”

Kaleigh, as always, backs her up. “I didn’t see her putting her leg forward.” Before she could defend herself any further, let the fire of the stress burn through Kaleigh’s serious expression, the woman is already looking behind her, speaking to the dot of a man that she can’t perceive at the last row of the practice place. “Are the pictures coming out fine? I don’t want people to see our cast on the floor.”

The more she proceeds in life, the more she realizes she is the only one that can bring herself up, dust her knees before anyone could even put a finger over her. It’s better this way. The photographer gets away from the shadows, lowering the Canon from his face before nodding slowly. “I’m getting good shots. Thank you for worrying.”

That lisp. If she moved her head any faster, she would have gotten whiplash. Upon watching the man’s face, she feels as though the Earth swallows her whole. Rounded face, toned body, his ears hidden by his beanie, glasses propped on the bridge of his nose, thin lips and that melodious smile. A bit silly at times, but yet, so enchanting on him.

“Ah,” Mingyu gets closer to the stage, standing by the edge before extending his camera towards her. Yes. Her. Why in the hell can’t she move? Men shouldn’t have this kind of effect on her. Anyone, really. “I want you to check your pictures with me, just in case you don’t like…the way you look or something. The expressions! Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Good, because she almost thought for a moment that he was trying to say: ‘Hey, your pictures are looking ugly. Can you check and tell me if you’re alright with them?’.

Finally, she steps forward, her legs dangling when she rests her bottom on the stage. “Sure.” Mingyu stands by her side, looking at her profile for a second before returning his gaze to his thick Canon camera, flickering through the pictures he had taken. Bright, with good poses, the angles fitting for every subject of his camera. “I like them.”

“This is the one from when you fell,” Mingyu instructs, making a circle around Hyun’s stuck-out leg. “And she did stick her leg out.”

“Well, I’m not crazy.” She says, rolling her eyes in the process before linking her hands over her lap. Mingyu looks at her, and for some reason, she feels like she knows him. After all, she saw a portion of him not a lot of people got to see—more mature, he seems to be, void of a glistening band around his finger. Perhaps, he just doesn’t like rings at all.

Mingyu looks up and down her features, long eyelashes fluttering against the underside of his eyes before smiling briefly. “Not crazy, but very drunk at times.”

Huh?

Drunk?!

“Excuse me?” She asks, because there is no way in hell Mingyu has seen her or gotten to know her, much less be aware of her when drunken—

Mingyu leans his weight against the stage, elbows propped back as he talks to her. “You don’t remember me?”

From the CD’s? Yeah. From a drunk night? Hell no. “…What do you mean?” She won’t quite in fact confess that she does remember him.

Roses grow on his cheeks, shaking his head when looking down at his camera. “Well, we were at the Urban Lounge. I was taking pictures, and just as I was about to head inside once again with my new film, I saw someone throwing up in the sidewalk. Crying, too.” Oh no. Oh please, don’t let this be the truth— “I decided to help you find your friend Kang Dasom, and then, I returned to the party.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh, yes.”

What are the odds that the sweet man that had rubbed her back when vomiting, was also the same man that helped her with her anxiousness each day when getting home from practice? There can’t be that many good people in this world, but Mingyu couldn’t be two of the nice people she had gotten to know in this city.

Or, rather, he was.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. We have all been there.” Mingyu stops for a moment, pressing his lips together, rubbing them, before releasing his words. “Me more than others, but it’s nice to be the one helping for a change.”

More souls like his should exist in this world. “Ugh, I can’t believe you saw me like that.” She groans, lowering her head until her neck hangs it. Mingyu chuckles from his spot, only to build the tension inside of her. The man in the recordings had seen her like a whole mess, and found it funny at that. Wow. “…You know, not a lot of people can say that they have seen me like that.”

“Not a lot of people see someone throw up before they actually know their names, but alas, here we are.”

“What a way to make a lady feel better.”

Mingyu’s smile falters the slightest bit at that, extending his hand before saying. “Hello, I’m Mingyu, but in this occasion, you can call me a dumbass.”

Funny, he is, enough for a smile to rake over her features even when her elbows and knees hurt. She speaks her name out, letting his professional and soft fingers caress against her own in a shake. Long digits, perfect for photo-taking, but horrible to think about when she remembers he is possibly married.

“I was joking. Don’t worry about it.” Instead, she hears her name being called, Kaleigh with her hands on her hips, waiting for her to return to the stage. “…Uh, I kind of have to get back to work.”

Now, she realizes the thing that dangled from the man at the lounge’s neck was his camera, the strip giving him more leverage when he nods at her. “I do, too.”

“Nice to meet you, Mingyu.”

Nice to meet you, again, maybe.

“Likewise.”

Though, she feels someone stare behind her when she turns around and gets back on her spot, she tries not to think much of it. He may be trying to get a good picture of the one figure in the shadows that is her.

###

Fourteen hours for the first performance of When The Kids Go To Sleep.

Fourteen hours and in the solitude of that stage, with only one light on, everyone from the staff gone to their homes, she feels the most like a star. In this stage, right at this moment, it feels like a star will be born.

The lyrics to the final song repeat themselves from her lips. She knows them by heart, the reason as to why she moved here on the first place, and with her hands gathering all the emotions in the air only to press them to her chest, she feels like she is five percent more ready for the night after. Or, actually, tonight—midnight, it is, and she still hasn’t left the practice room.

Everyone is gone, what is the worse that could happen?

Just as she moves to another spot, keeping the tempo and the rhythm of her feet, a thud interrupts her. Loud, clear, as if someone had opened the door and jumped on the floor. She halters her step, watching the locked doors with a frown on her features. If that door wasn’t open, then how had the sound appeared on the first place?

Her vocal cords close, swallowing thickly as she looks around the stage. If this is a robber, she needs to find something to defend herself with. An umbrella rests at the edge of the stairs, the one she had brought with herself on the rainy morning, cladded in Winnie The Pooh logos on a baby blue background. One step down the stairs and she hears it again, that thud, followed by the incomprehensible set of words the robber says.

Fuck. Someone’s here.

Someone is here and she had not even noticed.

Precision in her walk, she goes over to the hallway to the left of the entrance door, where the noises get louder as she gets closer to the storage rooms and bathrooms. One step forward, followed by her next leg, keeps moving her towards the culprit of the noise, both hands grabbing onto the body of the umbrella with a plan inside her head. She’ll knock this motherfucker down for scaring her that way.

The robber has some sense of humor, however. When she stands in front of one of the storage rooms, the door half-opened, the sound of one Eminem song escaping his lips becomes the main source of speech in this room. Who the hell sings an Eminem song when stealing?

The world is made out of colors and opinions. Maybe, this robber found it fitting.

She opens the door with one swing, lifting her umbrella well up in the air before knocking it against the robber’s head, the smack welcomed by a groan and a whine from the stealer.

“I’m going to call the police—” The robber turns around, both hands cladding his head, his brown hair sticking out at certain spots, a confused glance in his eyes. Well, so that is why the robber was singing Eminem…because it wasn’t a robber at all. “Mingyu?”

Blame it on her sleep deprivation. Yes. That’s it.  

“Ouch?” Mingyu utters out, separating the word in syllables just as she reaches forward, rubbing the portion of his head that she just hit.

“I’m sorry. I thought it was someone trying to steal from me and kill me—”

“Who sings while stealing?” Mingyu questions, finally lifting his gaze and straightening his body. His eyes connect to hers, and she finally realizes just how much of a bitch paranoia is.

“I don’t know. I’m sure they enjoy music, as well.”

Mingyu looks at her for a second, blinking, silenced, until laughter escapes his lips. Shortened, at that. “You should consider changing your career path. That arm?” The man flings his arm back and forth, as if pretending to receive the ball from a pitcher in a baseball game. “Perfect for a baseball player.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she grins. “What were you even doing here, oh-so-funny-man?”

The man in question waves his camera in the air, clearing his throat soon after. “Checking the pictures and the videos to see which ones I should take tomorrow.” Right, he probably was preparing for the big night as well. “You’re doing great, by the way. I could hear you from here.”

It’s been a while since she has believed she has done great. Her umbrella becomes her axis, resting it on the floor as she leans on it, a sigh leaving her lips. “I still have a long way before I get to Hyun’s level.”

A bright star under a roof, that’s how Hyun was going to be perceived, while she was going to be one twinkling firelight passing by. Mingyu bites the inside of his cheek, moving towards her with careful steps. “Hey, it’s not a competition…” He tries to make her feel better, as per usual with Kim Mingyu for what she has realized from his videos, but she shakes her head, chuckling in the process.

“God, I’m making it too serious.” She rolls her eyes. After all, Mingyu is a complete stranger. It’s not like he knows that she has seen one of the most private portions of his life in video. “But yes, you’re right. It isn’t supposed to be a competition, but it’s what Hyun has made it so…”

“Then, win.” Mingyu concludes, his lips lifting to the left in a smirk.

She quirks one eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. “Easier said than done.”

“Like everything, but just wait, people will see the same thing I did today.” His eyes trail down her features, chuckling a bit to himself out of awkwardness before clearing his throat. One step back, and the electricity is cut short. “Your pictures came out fine, too. I’ll make sure to do a great job tomorrow.”

“You’re going to be the photographer for the rest of the play?”

“From time to time. As long as I’m not gigged, I’ll be here.” Mingyu replies, placing the strap of his camera’s bag on his shoulder before sighing. “I’ll go catch up on some sleep now. You’re staying here until the morning or do you want me to call you a taxi?”

Tiredness lingers on her body, but she can’t bring herself to sleep. Not when she is one step closer to either fulfilling or destroying her dream. Opening the door for him, she shakes her head. “I’ll stay here until the morning.”

“You sure?”

“I have to practice.”

“If you say so…” He trails, stepping out of the door and walking alongside her before speaking up again. “You know everything is going to be fine, right?”

One look at his profile and suddenly, the warmth that makes place inside her body lets her feel so. Being alright is something she hasn’t considered in the past month of pushing herself to utter perfection, but maybe, it isn’t so far away.

“I think so, too.”

Sprinkles of rain patter against the sidewalk when Mingyu opens the entrance door, swirls of air moving his hair before he places his beanie on top of it once again. Before he could step outside, his hand grabs the handle of the door, sharing a glance with her when saying:

“I hope to see you again.”

With that, just like a leaf through the wind, he flies away.

###

Success tastes like honey.

The magic of being on stage in a musical is that she doesn’t see anybody, but she feels them. The silence that merges into cheers, the faint gasp from someone on row three, or the flash of a camera from someone who wants to capture this moment for when they feel like going back down the stage of nostalgia. Critics scatter around the place, but she can’t vision them, maybe for the better. With shred clothing, bruises and tiredness painted on her skin, she is her character, and whatever her past said about her no longer exists here.

The only thing that lacks are her loved ones, somewhere else in the country, living their lives while she constructs her own. Jaehyo does an imminent job in catching people’s attention with his dance, though not in the center, and Sue does not fall behind with her immaculate acting skills. Hyun, the star of the night, receives attention as deserved. Sure, she is not the most beautiful of people on the inside, but her talent is outraging.

When her bare feet come in contact with the center of the stage, sharing it with Hyun, she spares one look towards the groups of people. First row, with his dark hair absentmindedly pushed away from his face, a black, oversized t-shirt cladding his body and matching his ripped jeans, Mingyu is squatting down to get the perfect shot. The dimmed lights do not let her see the beauty of him, but the camera is pointing towards her, and she relishes on it.

Mingyu’s camera does her justice, after all.

By the time the musical is over, a smile takes over her features, backstage and hearing the standing ovation, blood pumping, hands jittery, and heart on her sleeve when she goes over to Jaehyo and wraps her arms around him with emotions bubbling up on her bloodshot eyes. She really needs to sleep.

The older man’s arms end around her waist. “We did it, Jaehyo! It was a success!” Jumping up and down on his hold, Jaehyo chuckles at her antics.

“Calm down, calm down, it’s only the first night.” Jaehyo whispers, pulling away with a lazy smile on his face. “…But it was one hell of a good first night. Pizza for celebration?”

“You know it!”

The next fifteen minutes consist of taking pictures, trying her best not to concentrate on the photographer or on the hunger that creeps up her body, unable to smile as brightly if it wasn’t for Mingyu. Lacking sleep, needing a nice, fulfilling meal, it’s no wonder that she had not slept a single minute in the past forty-eight hours. Maybe, that’s why she is a bit bummed when Mingyu doesn’t say a thing to her, continuing with his job with utmost professionalism.

Some children gather to take pictures with the cast, unknowingly filling her heart with pride. In one point of her life, she was like them, eager and excited to get the attention of her favorite characters. The magic of theater is that characters, and actors alike, are not unreachable to the watcher. It’s a live source of magic.

Jaehyo is off to greet the deliveryman outside by the time thirty minutes have passed. Her makeup wipes run across her skin, ready to take off the excessive amount of makeup on her skin and exchange it for breathing pores and comfort. She stops looking at her reflection to hunt for someone with the mirror, scanning the room unbeknownst to the rest of the people there. Mingyu’s thighs extend when seated at the edge of one of the vanities backstage, clicking through the pictures as one of the children talks to him. Mingyu seems to be intently listening to the child, but when he looks for something from the corner of his eyes, she feels his gaze on hers.

Her eyes trail down his toned arms, the expansion of his thighs, seeking for the art in him as if she is DaVinci and he is the Mona Lisa. A smile appears on her features, straightening her back and leaning her weight forward to continue to rub her makeup off, not forgetting to make herself look the best as possible. At least, he’s looking.

Yet, she shakes that thought away—he shouldn’t be looking. As far as she knows, he could still be with Yoona.

A hand extends on top of her shoulder seconds after, rubbing at the skin softly, as if giving her a massage, before breathing out her name in that somewhat deep, harmonious tone of his. “…Wasn’t so difficult to steal the show, wasn’t it?”

For someone who is not a good talker in most occasions, the line has her beam widening. “You’re joking.”

“No,” Mingyu says, dragging one seat to her side, the plastic chair making him look smaller next to her, for her artist’s chair is much taller. His legs expand, interlocked hands settled in between his thighs, and she really should stop looking at those—

Her eyes go up.

“Want to look at your pictures?”

She puts the makeup wipe down, running her fingertips on top of her eyelashes to check if there is any leftover mascara there. Clean. All the makeup is off. “Is that the only conversation we are ever going to have? My pictures?”

“We should.” Mingyu mumbles out, frowning his features in confusion before his eyebrows shoot up, realization falling upon him. “Not that I don’t want to talk to you about anything else! Shit, that sounded like such—. Yes, we can talk about something else.”

The smell of thick sauce, melted cheese and corn has her turning towards the red curtains, watching Jaehyo slip inside before giving her the box of pizza that belongs to her. Thanking him softly, she opens it on top of the vanity, pointing at it as she talks to Mingyu. “Help yourself. I haven’t had one of these since the night at the bar.”

Mingyu stands up, hovering over her to be able to get a piece, and she tries her hardest not to bite her lip at the vision of his profile. Definitely crafted by an artist, he is a sculpture made person. “And yet, here you are, eating it again.”

“It may be our thing now.” She replies, leaning back on her seat to watch Hyun downing yet another energy drink, hands contracting against each other, her expression turned somber. “Hey, Hyun!” She calls out, only to have the woman frowning at the sound of her voice and turning her head to the side.

“What do you want?”

“I asked Jaehyo to bring you some pizza. Tell him to—”

“I won’t have it.” Hyun finishes, picking up her purse and throwing it over her shoulder. “…Thank you.” She utters, though she doesn’t stay for long, opening the red curtains and getting away from the actors’ spot.

She doesn’t know why she tries. Maybe, because she thinks the tension between Hyun and herself could be the downfall of the musical, but Hyun is just too thick mentally. “How did this whole rivalry start?” Mingyu says, taking the first bite of his slice before he huffs slightly, trying to cool down the piece that is inside his mouth. Even with his lips half-parted, eyes widened, there is some cuteness to him.

Pressing the pizza up to her lips and biting on it, she shakes her head. “I have no idea.” She replies. “…Are we playing questions now?”

Mingyu shrugs. “Only if you have some.”

“About you? Endless.” She says, leaning forward until she is face to face with Mingyu, taking all in her not to look down at his lips. “When did you start taking pictures?”

“When I was seventeen,” Mingyu says, not backing down the slightest, yet chewing on his meal with expertise. He must have been hungry, as well. “One of my best friends needed some money, so he was trying for modelling gigs. Needed a portfolio and all…so I took pictures of him.”

“Did modelling work for him?”

“Almost.” Mingyu says, finalizing his pizza with one big bite, taking a napkin and pressing it to his lips before continuing after swallowing his food. “Soonyoung is good, my friend. Just…he’s shy, I guess? He didn’t see his potential then, doesn’t do it now. That’s just what happened.”

“Something good came out of it, though. You’re a great photographer.”

“Thank you.” With heated cheeks, he answers. “What about music for you? Or acting…or dancing? Like, musical stuff is just too much. I don’t know how you do it. I can barely walk and talk at the same time.”

Chuckling, she sighs, taking another slice of pizza. A string of cheese follows her first bite. “Uh,” She starts, pondering on exactly what to say. “My family has always been…well, famous. For the longest while, I thought I was going to be anything but famous, like…I don’t know, a teacher or something.” She may like children, but patience is not her biggest of virtues. “But I had no option than to be in the spotlight. Got my first acting gig in a doctor’s show, and I started to like it since then.”

“You were in TV?”

“I was patient number three. That was my character.”

Mingyu laughs joyfully, like he doesn’t care the slightest bit about what the world thinks of him—every particle of this world belongs to him and gives their attention to the beauty of his existence. “Oh, look at that, that’s my favorite character of all time.”

“Want me to give you an autograph?”

Pretending to take off his shirt, Mingyu replies: “On my boobies, please.”

“You did not.” She counterparts, doubling over in laughter at his behavior. “You better have a good set.”

“A good set of what?”

Curling her fingers in the air, she replies: “Boobies, as you called them. I call them titties.”

“Look at me ruining my own joke.”

“Lost the comedic timing, but don’t worry, that happens.” For one second, she inspects the glisten of the cheese on top of pizza, licking her lips with curiousness guiding her actions. “…Your girlfriend must like your jokes, Mingyu.”

Now, let’s see exactly what happened with Yoona. Or Kim Yoona. They should be married at this point. Mingyu runs his free hand through his hair, leaning back on his seat and crossing one leg over the other. “My friends do, but I don’t have a girlfriend to tell my jokes to.”

“…Huh?”

“Surprising?” Mingyu questions, though there is not an ounce of cockiness in his words.

“Very.”

“Why’s that?”

Pointing at the mirror, she says: “Take a look there and then, you’ll know why I wonder you don’t have someone with you.” Also, because he was one day from getting married in the last recording of the box. What had happened? Perhaps, he had been stood up, or they cut the wedding short. Or, even worse, Yoona had been the one left at the altar—

Mingyu chuckles at that moment, grease glistening on his lips, licking them to press them together. “Thank you.”

Sue comes around at that moment, sporting much more simplistic clothes and holding her box of pizza in between her hands. “We’re going to grab dessert and drinks, want to join us?” Jaehyo stands by her side, munching on his meal, and they are two angels at that moment. Kim Mingyu is single, wanting to get to know her, and maybe, hiding the fact that she knew about his relationship a little bit longer won’t do her any wrong.

She looks over at him, shrugging. “I wouldn’t mind. Want to come with us?”

“I have to take care of you if you drink, don’t I?”

“Oh, don’t be too confident.” She says, standing up and picking up her coat, closing the box of pizza in the process. “I may be the one taking care of you.”

Imitating her tone of voice, Mingyu says: “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Mingyu repeats, looking down at her lips before returning his gaze towards Jaehyo and Sue. “Let me grab my camera.”

###

Exquisiteness is divine. Pearls in the bracelets around her wrists, a nice dress cladding her body, and the taste of the most delicious of meals, washed away by the concoctions of a chef. The summer nights passed long ago, but the newest era of success has come to her now. Third night, not in a row, of her introduction to the musical world, and each time she sees Mingyu, they end up hanging out after. At first, it was with Jaehyo and Sue, then, it was backstage…and now, she has brought him to a four-star-restaurant, one of the most expensive in the city.

The white ceramic of the plate she is eating from leaves imprints of Ratatouille on its wake, interrupting her speech about one of her childhood memories in order to catch a glimpse of the source of the flash hitting her face. This is familiar—whenever she held hands with one of her family members as a child, someone would take the opportunity to bring a camera up her face, judge her for how she was going to turn out to be without really knowing her. Basking in money, she thought she’d never care—but she did. Having people comment on her from the moment she was born played with her mind far more than she comments.

Beauty of the soul is never enough for them. In a world like this, people can’t be pure.

But with Mingyu, she feels the purest. His eye squints as he takes a picture of her, barely touching his food, as he’d say…embarrassed that she is paying for such an expensive meal. Yet, he deserves it. Sent from heaven, bathed in the golden speckles of destiny, bringing light to the most mundane of activities. He petrifies memories, and what an irony it is, that what she ran away from the most as she was growing up is his biggest passion.

She licks her lips, half-laughing at his antics. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“You get a very pensive look on your face when you think about the past.” Perhaps, because it hurts her. Racing cars, lovers that didn’t last more than a week, memories of self-love that plaster on what other people thought of her. Young, rich and pretty doesn’t cut it in this world. “S—Sorry, I interrupted you, didn’t I? You were talking about the last time you went to Los Angeles—”

“It doesn’t matter.” She whispers, rubbing her fingers together to take the perspiration away from her skin. “Life is monotone when you’re somewhat famous. You do the same thing over and over again, pretending like it makes you happy.”

“Is that why you moved here?”

In reality, it was the addition of a few things. Her break-up. Her dream. Her opportunity. And running away. “What’s funny is that I didn’t even know what I would do once I moved here,” She replies, shrugging her shoulders after. “My best friend, Miyoung, I talked about her with you…she’s a figure skater, and she was supposed to attend the Olympics this year, but she broke her foot two days before I left. I thought that was the big sign for me not leaving.” Thoughtfully, she thinks back to the phone call she received in the middle of the night above a month ago. Miyoung had not rested the slightest, leading to an injury and sooner than later, a broken foot. Turns out that she would not be able to perform the same way she did before. “…But Miyoung told me it was quite the contrary, that it worked as a push-over for me to get here. According to her, it was my only chance to get a name for myself.”

“You’re on your way there.” Mingyu says, though her rests his camera on his lap, tasting the meal in front of him. “…I didn’t know about your family history or about you before, but I think people will start to recognize you as your own person soon.”

Hopefully, she can only think. “You know what?” She questions. Throughout the entirety of her time there, through the videos she had seen with Mingyu starring in them, an idea had crossed her head— “I think I’d be my happiest if I was just another person into this world. Like you.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “You’re crazy.” He tells her. “Exchanging money, power and success for…being like me?”

“I happen to think you’re a very good person.”

“Kind of.” Mingyu confesses, covering his mouth when he laughs: “But the day I’m gone from this world, no one will remember me. You can leave a mark on people’s lives.”

“So can you!”

“Probably to my children in the future, but not—”

“Listen, Mingyu—” Her words cut short then. How can she say this without outing what will inherently make him mad? “You’ve left your mark on people, I am sure.”

“It’s not the same.” His eyes shine under the golden chandeliers. Young ambition takes over him. “You’ll be legendary. I’ll be remembered by my neighborhood.”

“Maybe, we could exchange.”

“Or we could meet in the middle.” Mingyu conquers, and she likes that even more. Two souls that are clearly different but dance in the middle. Her leg extends forward, brushing against his skin, because she has seen this scene a few times in her life—romance in the form of getting to know each other, but for now, she doesn’t want to care about the outcome. Fuck the introduction or the conclusion, the development is always the best part.

“You know what I want to do?” She asks, the music in the background changing into some typical jazz tune, just as she hovers over the table, face to face with him.

You, she wants to tell him, instead, she looks into his eyes, Mingyu’s expression turning serious, cutting the tension with one of his smiles. “I don’t read minds.” He says. “Tell me?”

“I want to take pictures of you.” She replies, hang reaching for the camera on his lap, trying to understand the garment when she goes back to her seat. Pulling it up to her face, she squints one eye just like he does. She only needs to focus on him, right? “And keep them.”

“Why?” Mingyu asks, though, she can see him softly changing his pose, as to look more relaxed and camera-ready. Well, he does like a bit of attention.

“I want to remember the person that makes me believe there are still good people in this world.” The camera flashes when she takes a first picture, leaning back on her seat to capture more of his body in that black turtleneck and the necklace that wraps around his body. Tanned skin, brown hair, and a beautiful smile when she says those words.

“You haven’t known me for long enough to judge that, you know?”

“Then, give me the benefit of getting to know you more.”

A glimpse of his eyes connecting with hers on the camera has her smiling. “I’ll gladly give it to you.”

At the mention of those words, she lifts her eyebrows, another picture and her mind wander towards to possibilities. “What will you give me? The benefit of getting to know you? Just that?”

“You want more?”

“…It’s enough.”

Mingyu leans forward, his face coming in full view in the camera when he snatches it away from her hold, before whispering. “I was going to say I could give you everything you want, but seeing that just knowing me it’s enough…I’ll accept it.”

God. This man will be the death of her.

###

Two weeks in and not seeing Mingyu feels like it’s almost impossible. They gravitate towards each other—polar opposites that meet in the middle. His steps are heard as she keeps her hand to his, dragging him along over the lineal rug of the hotel they visited—for the pool, which Dasom said was the best—, baby blue doors compared to white walls, the faint swish of the pool nearby making music for the two of them to hear.

“Mingyu, hurry up!”

The fabric of her yellow dress caresses her legs, needing nothing more than to feel like she is living in summer, while the wind clashes with its coldness. Hopefully, the pool warms her body. Mingyu pulls her backwards by the white cardigan draped over her body, connecting his chest to her back. With each breath he takes, her own lungs shake, his voice lowering to speak against her ear.

“What’s the rush?” He asks, the few buttons opened of his floral shirt meeting her contracted muscles. “If I really went as fast as I can go, you wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

That’s the thing with Mingyu—he says the worst of things, in the situations that have her skin heating up, her mind going to places it shouldn’t. Not when he makes her feel like nobody else has done, as if scalding her fingertips to touch him would be worth it. Just before he could apologize, like he always does, because Mingyu just can’t say one thing without fucking up, she looks at him from over her shoulder. “Try me.”

A huff escapes his lips, wrapping both arms around her waist when picking her up and starting to rush through the hallway to get to the swimming pool.

“Mingyu—” Cackles leave her lips, legs flaring because he is just not looking forward. At least, not properly. “We could fall!”

“I’ll catch you if that happens—”

“You don’t know that!”

Floating in the clouds, somewhere beyond the universe, she lets her laughter speak for her. Never would she trust someone with this, but this is Mingyu she is talking about. The man that opens his heart without much thinking. “I promise I won’t let you fall. Just tell me when the swimming pool is close.”

Patting his arm, the toned skin coming in contact with her hand, she says: “Now, now! We’re close—”

Mingyu lets go of her after releasing her on the floor with a thud, turning around to watch the smile on his face when he puffs out his chest and adds: “See? I would never let you fall.”

“Not scientifically proven, so I’m not sure if I can believe you.”

“…You’re so annoying.” Laughing, she places her hands on each side of Mingyu’s body. She needs to get back to him, steal chuckles from his lips, so with one step back, she prepares for the biggest surprise of all. “Do you want me to turn around so you can take off your dress or—?”

Another step back and they are both falling inside the pool, dragged by her own weight.

Warm water bubbles around her, unable to open her eyes until her lungs receive air when getting to the surface. There, the droplets of water cling to her eyelashes, watching Mingyu merging up about at the same time that she did. His shirt clings to his body, thankfully wearing his bathing suit, strands of brown hair pressed to his gorgeous skin when he splashes water her way, though she’s already laughing.

“Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Yet, Mingyu keeps splashing water at her, getting closer and closer until he is just mere centimeters away.

“You think it’s funny, don’t you?”

“I’m a musical actress, not a comedian. Sorry.” Taking the damp cardigan in between her hands, she tosses it to the side, landing at the edge of the pool with a clanking noise from its buttons before jutting her chin forwards towards him. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

“You just wanted me to take it off.”

“You would’ve even if I hadn’t thrown you into the pool.”

“So, you brought me to this pool for that on the first place.” Mingyu says, brown irises darkening when her fingers reach for the edge of her dress, pulling it up until she is left in a one-piece. That’s the magic of him—making her feel like there is not a competition, as if she’s the most gorgeous woman he has seen in a while. Her assumptions about herself are not seen by him.

“So,” She says, letting the dress fall to the side and trying not to cling to her own body, shrinking in order to hide away from him. Mingyu’s fingers hook around every button of his shirt, taking it off little by little to showcase his slim, yet toned body. “Swimming competition and whoever gets to end of the pool buys dinner?”

“I’ll buy dinner either way, but sure—” She needs to look away. The least she needs is that lingering voice inside her head that tells her that she’d do absolutely anything to get a taste of Kim Mingyu. It feels wrong, how he doesn’t know where she lives, what she found out when being there, how the lines of their stories always seemed to connect…but maybe, he’d feel taken off guard if only he knew the truth. That, in retrospect, she had seen the beauty of him before he even knew about her.

Her phone rings from the bag that she had left at the edge of the pool when Mingyu dropped her on the flooring. Incessantly. Even when she starts swimming with him, laughing along and splashing him on the face at the same time he does, it continues ringing.

Mingyu spares one look at her, pointing at her phone when saying: “Want me to get it for you?”

“No,” Worry rises up inside of her, swimming quickly until she got to the edge of the pool, the third call appearing on her screen once again. Mingyu’s presence is felt right behind her, but she can’t concentrate on him when she reads the contact.

Miyoung.

Something happened to Miyoung.

“Hello?” Fear clings to her chest. Miyoung, her best friend, the apple to her eye, could not have her life any worse than what it is right now. She doesn’t deserve it and as her best friend, she won’t let it happen. “Miyoung, are you okay?”

“Of course, babe. I’m fine.” Miyoung speaks in her typical purred out tone. A breath trapped inside her lungs lets go at that moment, leaning her weight forward just when Mingyu presses his hand to her back, rubbing those soothing circles that she knows so much.

“How is your foot?”

“Healed, thankfully. You already know that.”

“Goddamn it, Miyoung, I thought something had happened to you—”

“Haven’t you checked YouTube? I’m not the one you should be worrying about. Worry about yourself.”

YouTube? One or two videos about her musical had appeared, but she hasn’t been in the headlines for a bad reason. “Why should I worry? What are you talking about?”

Mingyu moves over to her side, and she can feel his eyes penetrating into her side profile when Miyoung utters out: “Haseul released his newest comedy special, and the motherfucker mentioned you. People are going crazy with the memes, you need to check it out.”

“What?” Her ex-boyfriend hadn’t crossed her head in a while. After all, remembering what hurt her the most—the obsession of always being right, the lies, the friends that he said he had nothing to do with and the way he passed her every opinion over his ass as if it didn’t matter…is not what she plans on doing. Not when she’s moving on. Yet, it seems like he doesn’t want her to do just that.

“Check it out. I’m—I’m talking to my PR team man to make a statement. I’m tired of his bullshit.”

“Don’t, don’t!” She says quickly. Miyoung’s career has already fallen down, she doesn’t need unnecessary drama. “I’ll fix it. I—I just need to look at it, okay?”

“Babe, promise me you’re not going to feel bad.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Horrible.”

“Then, I can’t promise anything.” With a sigh, she looks down. “I’ll call you later, okay? Let me see what all of this is about.���

When putting her phone down, it takes less than a second for Mingyu to speak, worry dripping from his every tone. “Wh—What happened?”

Well, time for a fraction of the truth. “Before I came here…I was dating some guy. Well, we had been dating for three months at a maximum. Cheated on me. Went out partying. The typical stuff someone of power does in most occasions.” Turning to her side, she takes the phone in between her hands, looking up the comedian’s name. “He’s a comedian. Eo Haseul. I don’t know if you know him but—”

“Yeah, I know about his comedy.” Mingyu’s frown deepens, extending one hand when leaning on the edge of the pool. “Isn’t he the guy who can only make sex jokes?”

“The one and only.” There it is, the video that Miyoung had been talking about, with over six hundred thousand views in four hours. Well, there goes her reputation. The title of his comedy set is shown there, but nothing else is added. “…We broke up before I left. He broke up with me, basically. Miyoung just called me to tell me he made a comedy set about me.”

“No way.” Mingyu whispers, leaning over her shoulder to be able to look at the loading screen.

“I mean, it shouldn’t be that bad, let’s see what he says.”

It was even worse than she had imagined.

Haseul, in what she had once thought was perfection, stares at the laughing crowd as his lips rest against the mic. His hair is sleeked back, thick eyebrows pursed together when he says: “And yeah, man, I learned last summer that you shouldn’t date a famous bitch. Or a semi-famous one. Normal, average women are fine but give someone some money and they think they can do whatever the fuck they please.” A few sets of laughter follow his statement, and he scoffs a bit for dramatics, trying to make himself sound more interesting. “I’m sure you guys know who I’m talking about, but…now that I’m out of that relationship, I can say that she was crazy. Eyes rolled to the back of her head, greedy as all shit, type of crazy.” He says, as if she is not human—as if she had not done everything in her power to make that toxic relationship work. “I would show you all the videos we had of each other fucking, but man, it’s just too crazy. I’d have to be filling all holes, even the bellybutton. When women are given power? They don’t get pleased by anything. I’d have to contort my body and shit, just to be able to make her moan for one second.”

Tears well up in her vision. The intimacy they had, exaggerated and highlighted for the world to see, torn to shreds because she is a woman with apparent power. Why is it that she can never have some source of happiness before it gets taken away from her?

“And the issues, man. God, I would have to hear her sigh on and on about her issues after sex. Just had my dick and she still had the time to think about how her rich, immaculate life was just not enough for her. See what I mean?”

Laughter, even though it’s not funny, people seem to enjoy it. Trying to turn the tables around, Haseul shrugs.

“I can’t even show you the videos because…I have to be honest, I’m not the biggest of men when it comes to that but—” For once, he targets himself, but the smirk on his face says he is not over with it. “It doesn’t matter. I have to cover my back. The bitch blocked me with the same hand she used to jerk me with.”

The subject changes, but her ears are ringing. Burning anger, impotence, and the tears that escape her eyes as she puts her phone down and rests her forehead against the tiles of the pool.

What was she thinking when she got with him?

“None of those things are true…” She whispers, covering her mouth as if to stop herself from talking. Mingyu, however, maneuvers his body to be able to wrap his arms around her. Her face rests against his chest, the cold skin touching hers, too afraid to look him in the eye. What will he think of her after watching that—?

“I know it’s not true.” Mingyu’s voice has turned serious, pulling away only to have her further pushing her face to his chest. “Do you have his number?”

Mind whirling, overheated, she hums. “I do, but I have it blocked.”

“Give it to me.”

“Mingyu—” Finally, she pulls away, bloodshot eyes staring up at him. “I’m tired of the problems around me. I’m absolutely done with people caring about my whereabouts and what I do. I don’t want more drama—”

“I just want to put him in his place.” Mingyu whispers, pushing her wet hair away from her face before breathing out a small: “Please?”

In the light of the pain caused, her lips are paralyzed, unable to connect her tongue to her mind in order to let some words out. Instead, she reaches for her phone, going through the contact list before seeing it:

Eo Hanseul (Do Not Respond).

Mingyu takes his own phone from her purse—he asked to have it there—, jotting down the numbers before bringing the device up to his ear. He gets out of the water, droplets following after his steps to be able to talk in private. Standing by the clear doors of the hallway, Hanseul seems to pick up his call, because his eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to speak.

Kim Mingyu doesn’t seem like the type of man to get angry, but he does that night.

Much of what he says is not understood, unable to disconnect her eyes from mixing the water of the pool with the waterfalls of her feelings, but Mingyu’s voice raises, speaks into the void when he says: “…I don’t care, man, you either grow some balls and start respecting her or you’ll have to have a talk with me.” Now, he seems much taller, buffer, as if his words may be able to deflate the softness of him. Rolling his tongue through his teeth, he hears to what the other man has to say, just as she’s getting out of the pool, only her calves pushed inside. “You think I’m some fool you can play with?”

Well, in comparison, Mingyu is much better than Hanseul. Less of a fighter, more of an empath. However, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, a frown taking over his features.

“You either take all the bullshit you’ve said back or I’ll make sure you pay for it, okay?!” Before Hanseul could retort, the man shakes his head. “I don’t know, release some statement, get your tongue up your ass, but you’ll never talk to her or about her ever again, understood?”

Then, the call comes to an end. Radio silence.

Mingyu puts his phone down, extending his arms just to say: “Come here.”

And she does cling to him, feeling his heartbeat against her eardrums as she cries someone else’s ignorance away.

Though, for Mingyu, the picture is different. “You’re more than whatever people judge you for. Don’t forget that.”

###

Act twenty-four. Twenty-fourth time performing the same character. The critics are getting worse.

Perhaps, it’s her fault. Seated on the wooden floor backstage, while wrapping her legs in bandages to be able to stand the aches, ignore the blossoming memories of the falls she has done while practicing, she sees the most destroyed person in the room staring at herself back in the mirror. Hyun looks way more tired than she did when they were practicing, curling her hand against her stomach—perhaps, suffering by the number of products she puts in her body to be able to keep herself energized—, eyes void of the glint of pertinence that had once coated them, bathed in shadows.

Once again, she takes another energy drink, and it’s about this time that she speaks out the certainty in the room. The one spoken secret that she whispers to herself at night. “I’m worried about you.”

Hyun stops at that moment, not even sparing her a glance, and the shutter of Mingyu’s camera comes to a halt when she finally outs the obvious. Hyun may not like her, but she was a fan of her before she even got here. Talented, she is, and her stomach must not be doing good by the number of energy drinks, caffeine and whatever else she has. Her stress is getting to her, cohabiting inside of her body.

The woman lifts her eyebrows, sucking her cheeks in when she says: “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

“Even I’m not fine.” She confesses, standing up from the floor with wobbling legs. Too overworked. “Hyun, stop drinking this. If you aren’t sleeping or you can’t keep up, it’s okay. We’re here to help each other—”

When her hand comes forward to take the energy drink from her, Hyun pushes her body backwards, the anger in her features dissipating. “You don’t get it.”

“Of course, I do.” She says, only to have Hyun bitterly scoffing.

“Yeah, right.” She concludes, putting the can down before resting her slim hands on her hips. “If this musical keep going like it is, on its downfall, I won’t get any other chance to shine. I won’t get a starring role, and I will definitely see my dream die. You don’t go through that. You have a home to go to, and money to spend—”

An inexplicable feeling embargoes her. While Hyun had gained this position with hard work, a part of her existence there was just for publicity—and her mere presence is what is bringing the musical to its conclusion. “Hyun, I promise…you’re too talented to ever do shit wrong. You’ll get a chance when needed.”

“You don’t know that!” Hyun shouts, running her fingers through her hair before sighing. “Mind your business, okay? Stay out of my way, and stop playing the victim here. I’m fine. I just need to practice more.”

“Go home, Hyun.” She tries to reason, taking the woman by the forearms. “I know you hate my guts, and I would, too, if I were you…but please, just…rest for tonight. The show’s over. We can go home.”

“You do this because you don’t want me to practice so you can be better than me, huh?”

Shaking her head, she tries to reason with her. “I would never. Really. I’m over that.”

“Who are you kidding? Yourself or me?” Hyun questions, taking the filled energy-drink can before tossing it in the nearby trashcan. “Happy now?”

“Hyun—”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go home.”

Her body brushes against hers when passing by her, the clicking of her shoes a sound that she doesn’t want to ignore. Hyun, in that moment, becomes a heroine to her. Image of hardships and hard work, someone who would rather tire herself out than disappointing her vision of herself. Perhaps, she had judged everything wrongly, imagined herself to be this immaculate being that did not deserve to be hurt.

No one does. Hyun didn’t either.

Mingyu accompanies her outside, like he always does, ready to go out with her after another show. However, as the wind bites her arms under her dark denim jacket and the taxis pass by them, ready to be called by her, she feels his hand resting over her shoulder, turning around to look at him. Peaceful, yet worried.

Tugging at the sleeves of his pink sweater, the strands of his hair swirling against his forehead with the movement of the breezy night, Mingyu admits: “I think you need to drop out of this musical. Kaleigh does not care about any of you.”

That much she knows. The leader, the director, only cares about the image she wants to portray of the character, not about the actors that play them. Still, letting go would mean going back home…and back home, she’d go back to the same routine. “What if I don’t find another chance to be on the stage?”

Mingyu sighs. “You and Hyun aren’t so different after all.” The more she sees herself projected in that vanity backstage, the more she sees herself turning into Hyun. Though talented, a portion of herself will get lost down this path. The one that hopes for a happy ending. “Sometimes, we have to realize that what we dream of is not always going to be our reality. And this is not to tell you your dream is not valid, because it is, but the more you stay here…the more it will hurt you to leave. You deserve better than what Kaleigh is giving you, and even if you end up with a small role in some show, or get back on stage again…you’re still you.”

“Well, maybe I’m tired of being me.” She replies, letting her weight lean against the side of his body, his arm cradling her shoulders, eyes looking down at her while she connects her gaze with his, down to his lips.

“I like you.” Mingyu rasps out, though, if he knew where she lived…what she saw…what she knew about his past, would he still be open about those words? “Please, never stop being you.”

She thinks, at this moment in her life, she’ll never stop being his. Yours, she wants to tell him, even if this doesn’t work out, my soul will always be yours.

Though, she fears. What if he isn’t hers? Though he wasn’t hers at the beginning of it all, she kept seeking—

And now, mere centimeters away, with his lips parted, she has him. Breaths mingling when she softens her lips against his, drapes a silent confession that she can’t quite get out without feeling guilty. If he knew more about her, perhaps, he wouldn’t like her. The issues of not knowing how to differentiate what people perceive of her and what she perceives herself, but right now, as she’s with him, she likes who she is. Her truest version, delicate, not aching to feel more, to have more of him, just letting their lips meet softly, knowingly, as if she knows every portion of him and yet, to him, she’s only a shadow.

Her arm hooks around his neck, tilting her body to the side to taste more of him, relishing on his perfume, his hands, the way he always seems to make her feel unique, and not to outcast her, but to blend her into the groups of people that fall for each other. The romanticism that falls into monotony, but it’s oh-so-perfect in its own way.

“That’s my answer for you.” She replies when pulling away, awestruck brown eyes blinking back at her when she smiles.

I like you too, Mingyu.

###

When looking at Mingyu, she would have never believed their first official date would come in the shape of a rock concert. Much less would she have imagined that, upon entering Mingyu’s apartment, much smaller than the house he once shared with Yoona, he’d have collectables of memories that he doesn’t have the time to explain, rushing to get out the door and get to the concert. A local band that she has no idea about, but try their hardest to leave their imprint in this world.

Kissing in cars is how the date ends. In some taxi, with sneaky touches and stolen kisses that promise for a better night. Hazed in his smile, in the tight black shirt that clads his body and the way his big hand splays across her thigh, claiming a portion of her body as his. After a month, even more, of seeing each other, Mingyu feels closer than ever, seated on a portion of her heart as if it is his throne, and it may be. A King of Hearts, as she likes to call him.

The band t-shirt he had bought when getting out of the venue rests over her body, halfway pushed inside his jeans as she twists her head to the side and rests fleeting kisses on the side of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs, a sharp intake of his breath coming with the tightening hold on her tight.

“Something you should know…” He starts, only to have her humming, teeth digging into the skin of his neck as she hums. “I—I’m not really patient, you know?” His voice wavers, enough to have her chuckling when she pulls away from him and rests a kiss on his shoulder.

“I’ve noticed. Quite childish if you ask me.”

“It’s hard to be patient when you’re around.” She looks at him from the corner of her eye, smiling.

“I’ll have to teach you how to wait, huh?”

Though, when Mingyu had gotten on that taxi, she had not thought about the address she gave. The taxi driver parks outside, thanked by Mingyu as he gives him counted bills and gets out of the yellow car. Much to her distaste, however, when she gets off as well, Mingyu is staring ahead at the white house that had once been shared with the love of his life—

Yoona.

The woman who almost married him.

The one person he had never talked about.

Mingyu opened up about a lot of portions of his live. Childhood. Cousins. Parents. Music. Photography. Collections. Love from teenage years, but Yoona was never touched. Never talked about. She never pushed it, knowing better than getting that information out of him, but when she stands by his side, watching his face turn somber, he softly asks:

“You live here?”

Warning signs appear inside her head, blaring red lights leaving her with no emergency exits. The line has cut short, no longer letting her lie to him in order to keep her secret intact. She knew him before he actually knew her, and she had thought of him as charming then. “Mingyu, yes. I didn’t want to tell you because—”

“Wait, why wouldn’t you want to tell me?” His face turns towards her, and she knows at that moment that she had fucked up. He had not assumed that she knew anything, only asked absentmindedly as memories flashed before his eyes. “Do you know something I don’t?”

She swallows thickly. She could lie to him, come up with lines and improvise, but Mingyu is one of those people that doesn’t deserve that. Instead, she tugs at the collar of the t-shirt on her body, sighing deeply. “Listen,” She starts. “When I got here, I found a box that said ‘throw away’ and it had a bunch of CD’s inside…”

Mingyu pulls back at that moment, shaking his head. “No—”

“And I watched them. You were in all of them with your ex…Yoona.” She whispers, looking over to the side, watching the house that had both introduced her to the person she feels like she is falling for, and that may take him away at that moment. “I didn’t want to pry, I swear. I just…I just did and I kept on watching because of you, and destiny did its thing and it brought us together at the bar, and with you as my musical’s photographer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu asks, and she comes up with nothing. Because she didn’t want for him to close up with her, of course. “You knew more about him than I knew about you, and you didn’t even think about giving those CD’s to me…or just…or just tell me that she had kept them there!”

“Well, I just didn’t want you to think I was stalking you or something. It was all a coincidence!” She replies, only to have Mingyu running his hands through his hair, chuckling at the sky before groaning deeply.

“That’s my privacy!”

“Well, it’s not like I knew it was private before!” She argues back, frowning at him. “Besides, why is it so deep for you? You know about Haseul, why does it matter if I know that you almost married Yoona? It’s not like I’m jealous of a woman of your past—”

“Because you have no idea how long it took me to get over her!” Mingyu replies, voice rising, chest heaving. Then, a pout takes over his features as he explains himself, retreating the tone of voice he had just taken up on.

“If you’d let me know what happened, maybe I could understand—”

“Turns out I had a toxic relationship. She wanted me to be her little puppet, make her fantasy come true of a perfect man, and a perfect family, and possibly a…I don’t know…a social media presence where we showed how perfect we are but…I’m not perfect.” He breathes out, biting his bottom lip as he looks at her. “Can you blame me for not wanting to remember all the turmoil I went through because of her?”

“You can just not talk about it if that’s the case. I don’t mind. But you can tell me about these things—” She entices. “I’m not going to judge you, Mingyu. Our pasts are there for a reason—”

“Don’t give me that.” Mingyu answers, smile lines intensified by the purse of his lips. “You always say you want to change your past, to start again, to not remember—”

“But my past and my mistakes made me meet you!” She exclaims. “I can’t turn back time and change things because, maybe, I wouldn’t have met you if that was the case. I like you, Mingyu, almost married or not. I like you for who you are and who you were.”

“If you liked me so much, you could’ve just told me.” Mingyu mumbles, blinking softly.

“…I was afraid, okay? I get to be afraid, too. Just as you were.”

Mingyu falls silent for a second, deep in thought, walking backwards as he says: “I—I just need some time, okay? I get you, but I need…I need to process this.”

She tries to go after him, shaking her head. “Mingyu, don’t do that. We have to talk about this. I didn’t mean to remind you of a bad time—”

“Just…burn that fucking box and…and I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?” Mingyu whispers out, goosebumps going up her arms when she watches him go. Never had she seen him so shattered, hands shaking as he remembers that one portion of his life he never wanted back.

He had seemed so in love.

And now, he can’t fall in love as easily.

Yet, a new beginning is necessary, so when she retreats to her home, she picks up a lighter, walking far down the street with the box in hand to light it up.

The past makes who they are, but it doesn’t define them. From now on, she is the only one that can decide her future, and so can Mingyu for his own life.

###

“Care to tell me why you ruined every single one of my pictures?”

Last show, but Kaleigh doesn’t know it. Just as she’s applying another layer of purple onto her eye, as if to indicate the bruises from her character, Mingyu speaks to her. Over one week of not talking to each other, texts going ignored, time asked whenever they meet, and she has met more than the middle of the situation. Now she wants to go forward, know more of him than of herself, movement more eccentric in order to fuck up his work.

If that’s what it takes to get his attention…

She shrugs her shoulders, patting the makeup sponge against her eye. If he doesn’t want to talk, she won’t talk either. “Just some new dance moves. I added some popping because the character felt like it needed it.” It’s utter bullshit, and the way Jaehyo snorts from his spot tells her that no one believes her. Even Hyun seems to chuckle at her antics, Mingyu’s lost expression mirrored in the vanity.

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Kim, I don’t think you can talk to the cast like that.” She answers, mischief painted on her face when she connects her gaze with his through the mirror.

Scoffing, he says: “You didn’t think that when you ruined all my shots from yesterday’s night.”

The makeup sponge now rests against the table, her fingers interlocked as she talks to him through the mirror. Today, Mingyu props some pink sunglasses on his head, a leather jacket placed on top of a white t-shirt. “I’m sure they look fine, Mr. Kim. They always do.”

“They’re all blurry.”

“My apologies. You may have to take some pictures tonight, then.”

“…If you even let me. You’re moving around like you have pinworms.”

“Oh my God!” Sue says from her spot, elbows pressing to the back of her chair to be able to look at the scenery. “Is this a pre-marital issue?”

“I think so.” Jaehyo conquers, but she only throws a look at them.

“He’s the one that doesn’t want to talk to me.” She says, standing up from her spot to be in front of Mingyu, in all his glory, staring back at her with a stoic expression. “So…in order to get his attention, I had to find other ways to do it.”

Mingyu breathes out softly, staring around the room before wrapping his hand around her arm. “You want to talk? Let’s do it in private.”

The storage room in which they had met initially, memory of the umbrella that she hit against his head, now becomes the spot for them to meet in. Far more cramped than she remembers it for, with a tiny chair that Mingyu used to take up on to check his pictures. The man in question locks the reddened door behind him, giving one step forward and hence, ending up pressed to her body, hands placed on his own hips when he asks:

“You have something to say? Speak.”

Maybe, she had tried the worst of ways to get his attention. Annoyance, for once, is not something that pairs up with Mingyu’s face in most occasions. Yet, she finally gets to hear his voice. Angered. Cut short. Yet, unknowing of the reality that breathes through her pores.

“I’m sorry…for not telling you I had seen those videos. It was your privacy and I shouldn’t have looked, but after I did, I should’ve told you and given them to you to get rid of them. I did, but yeah…” Her voice falls into a softened tone, looking into his brown irises, down to his straight nose, a few speckles of facial hair on top of his lip, barely noticeable and those rose-colored lips that she has been missing for the past week. All of him, really, from his voice to his thoughts, to the impatience that takes over him. “Mingyu, I would never judge you for your past. Not when you weren’t the one at fault. We all make mistakes and I don’t think any less of you for being naïve enough to involve yourself in that situation. I like you with or without Yoona in your life. If you want to talk about it, I’ll accept it…if you don’t—”

“I want to talk about it.” Mingyu says, breathing out in a way that has the warmth of him touching her lips. His chest expands, flush against her breasts, when he explains his truth. “I met Yoona when I was seventeen. She was friends with Seungkwan, a friend of mine, and he got us in this blind date thingy because…I don’t know, I was bored, I wanted a date.” He shrugs, though his eyes show that he really cares. “So, we started a relationship…and we started living together soon enough. I didn’t care. I worked two jobs, all to be able to move from our apartment to a bigger house, and then she got other jobs…and we made it. She said she wanted to have a family soon, that she’d start recording us…whatever. You know that part.” His life seemed so much easier than what he described, but that’s just what the video-camera showed. “Turns out that she got out of all her jobs, expected me to pay for everything, and lived the most exotic of lifestyles. If I ever told her we couldn’t buy something, she’d take it out on me…” Mingyu sighs, shaking his head in the process. “We’d fight all the time, but I loved her, so I proposed. Turns out that it didn’t work, and I cut off the engagement the morning of our wedding.”

“As you should have…” She elongates, only to have Mingyu chuckling darkly.

“Yeah. I was reassured that it was a good decision when three days later she started dating a famous YouTube guy and she started vlogging for real.”

“I’m so sorry, Mingyu.” With all the sincerity she can muster, locked away in the depths of her heart only for him to see, she sighs. “…You deserve better.”

“I know I do.” He finalizes. Looking down at her lips before smiling softly. “Glad we sorted that out.”

“Sorted that out? I acted like a spoiled brat just to get your attention. I’m sorry for that, too—”

“Ah, don’t worry.” Mingyu replies, wrapping his arms around her waist before pressing her back to the wall. The dry paint clings to her clothing, rubs against it when his fingers rub against her skin over the fabric. “You always have my attention, even if you ruin my pictures in purpose just to get me to talk to you. I needed some time, that’s all.”

“Yeah…I’m so sorry.”

Mingyu doesn’t utter another word, lips conjoining in a smile before they rest over her own. Much of the like of the type of kisses they had shared in that taxi ride, hands folding the fabric of her clothing when he brings her clothing, breathing against her skin as he slowly takes over the kiss. His lips part, his left hand going down to his hips, towards her thigh before lifting it over, pulling their bodies closer when he settles himself between her legs, head turned to the side just as her fingers rake through his hair.

He doesn’t care. Doesn’t mind having his hair messy, his camera pushed away from his neck and put carefully to the side as she continues kissing him. Though, he does care about her, only pulling away to ask: “How many minutes you have until you go up the stage?”

Staring at the clock on the wall, she breathes against his lips. “Like thirty minutes.”

“May I…?” Mingyu asks, eyes joining desire with worry, pressing his hips forward, abdomen contracting when her hand caresses his jaw, touches his neck and lets her thumb rub over the column of his throat.

“…Of course, Mingyu.”

It’s not the most romantic of places, but it happens with a soul she doesn’t want to exchange. For once, his name becomes a poem, and she will never find a rhyme better than him.

###

Two set of judgmental eyes watch her as she slides the folded piece of paper in her hands towards Kaleigh. Always sporting an all-black outfit, those glasses that hide the malice in her gaze, and before her lips could part to utter one of her simplistic sentences, she bathes on the glow of getting out of her last show. Of trying her best, and yet, not having the best outcome.

“It’s over.” She says, sighing deeply with joined lips as she rests her hands in the depths of her jeans’ pockets. “I don’t want to be part of this musical anymore. Thank you for the opportunity, but I feel as though I don’t fit this team…or your vision of me, whatsoever.”

There, while the rest of the team are taking off their makeups, getting rid of their clothing, children bustling around, overexcited from the sceneries, Kaleigh is speechless. Hyun, on one hand, steps forward, eyes widened.

“She can’t leave.” Turning to her, she shakes her head. “You can’t leave, you’re one of the main characters.”

“I don’t think I will continue down a path of happiness if I stay here. My mental health comes first, and Kaleigh can’t bring me that as a director.” She adds, pointing at the paper in between Kaleigh’s hands, still unopened. “Right there, you can see my resignation letter. I don’t want to be part of this team anymore, and Kaleigh can choose to talk badly about me as an actress if she so pleases.”

Kaleigh scoffs from her spot, nodding at what she says. “Of course, I will. How unprofessional do you have to be to leave the musical like this?”

What hurts her the most is leaving her cast. Leaving her character, ever, that wants to give out such an important message about the reality people live. Instead, she has to let go. Better opportunities will come for a dream that is not yet set in stone. “Very. But I think it’s the best decision.” Pushing herself away from the situation, she starts walking away from the stage. Her home, really, but one that will fall to shambles if she doesn’t leave now.

She doesn’t expect to hear someone’s voice then. “We need you.” Mixed with her name, Hyun speaks. The woman that hates her the most, yet, when turning around, seems to look at her with a plea in her brown eyes. She smiles, because Hyun deserves it. The woman is given, that much she can say.

“You don’t.” She answers, sighing deeply. “The stage needs you, but it doesn’t need me. As long as you keep this story alive, I can be replaced. That, you don’t have to worry about—”

“But you won the audition—”

“No, it was given to me.” Truthfully, the more she thought about it, the more she realized Kaleigh never wanted her there for her talent. “And I don’t want to be there for publicity. I don’t need that pressure on me. So, the real talent should stay.”

With that, she turns around, giving the last few steps until the coldness of the night bites at her skin.

Seated on the sidewalk, Mingyu rummages through his phone, unaware of her presence as he listens to music with his earphones plugged in. The cars pass by, gray concrete matching his dark outfit. Just a few hours earlier, she had seen him without him, but not sedated yet, she kneels until she is hugging him from behind, pressing a kiss to his cheek and humming in delight at the heat of his body.

Not hers. A person can’t be hers. And though he isn’t hers, she doesn’t mind it.

Mingyu takes off one of his earphones, turning around to look at her and asking a silent question with his eyes.

“What?” She puzzles, only to have Mingyu widening his eyes.

“How did it go?”

“Badly. It hurts.” Her heart aches at the idea of not getting another chance, giving all her might into acting tonight…and perhaps, the only night that she will get to act again. “But it’s what I had to do. I’m going to find a better opportunity later on.”

His smile widens, leaning forward to steal a kiss from her lips before joining his free hand with the ones conjoined over his stomach. “I’m so proud of you.”

“If you’re so proud, let me invite you to dinner.” Standing up, she watches as he follows after her steps.

“Let me pay for once!” He whines, only to see her shaking her head.

“Nope. I’m your designated sugar mommy.”

“You’re totally not.” Mingyu denies, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

“Come on, let me live the dream.”

Though, hers will remain paused for now…until a better chance comes about. A real one, perhaps.

###

Bad news always come like a train-wreck. Life is silent for a second, too eerily silent, and the moment she opens her eyes, everything is shattered. This time around, it wasn’t any different. Seated on the counter, Mingyu working on making a set of pancakes, taking his precious time on heating them to utter perfection, she doesn’t think anything when turning on her phone. If anything, she is staring forward, at the way Mingyu’s back muscles contract with the movements of his arms.

Kim Mingyu has this magic of appearing in someone’s life and never giving the person the benefit of asking themselves if they want him to leave. She doesn’t, and that’s factual. A little above a month after she left her job at the musical, she has tried to avoid all contact with everyone from her cast—from Jaehyo to Sue, obviously with Hyun, trying her hardest to show to her family and friends back at home that she can stay here and fulfill a dream. So far, nothing has worked.

But Mingyu has.

Not spoken into the night but fallen into place, Mingyu spends more time at her place than he does on his, giving a piece of his heart to her, while he has all of hers. With each passing day, the comfort of him becomes the sunlight of her days, though the clouds seem to gather in her personal life. Mingyu finds gigs, but the tabloids have forgotten about her after the viral video of her past relationship.

This time around, the headlines in her phone—from the notifications of her favorite magazine—inform her something more.

Han Hyun dies while practicing for new musical. Doctors confirm gastrointestinal bleeding.

When standing up, the chair falls behind her. Fear. Petrification. Perhaps, regret. Hyun had so much life within her—a pulsating need to be the best, and she was. Then, stress took up all of her life. So young, yet now not existing in the same world as them.

The room seems to rotate by the time Mingyu speaks her name into the dense air. “Hey, what happened?” He moves towards her, but she gives a few steps back, uttering the words that hurt her just by hearing them.

“Hyun died.”

One never really thinks about an enemy dying. A rival, really. The fear starts to become palpable when people think of their loved ones dying, but when it comes to someone that they can’t stand…it almost seems favorable. To have them away from this world. Yet, she can’t even utter another word, entering her room and throwing herself into the bed. The sheets are crumpled between her palms, tears blinding her vision as she thinks of all the times, she bumped hands with Hyun.

She was so talented.

It almost felt like she had to take care of her. Each and every single time she told her to mind her own business, she never did.

The door opens softly, her name called once again, though she doesn’t want to listen. Never has she liked Mingyu seeing her crying, but at this point, when he rests his weight next to her on the bed, his elbow resting adjacent to her body as he horizontally leans his weight on her back, she can’t help but let out a little weep.

“Hey…” His fingers trail down her spine, speaking softly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She turns around, hair done a mess as she stares into his eyes, trying to stop the hiccups that shake her frame. “She had so much to give, and look at what happened to her. I couldn’t even—I don’t know, say goodbye to her?”

“You don’t have to think about what you didn’t do.” Mingyu replies after a few seconds of silence, bringing his body forward until he is hovering over her, kissing the tears away before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “…You can only think about what you’re going to do now. Not take people for granted. Get to know people better. Avoid rivalries. That’s all you can do.”

Staring up at him, she realizes one thing. One day, we’re here, the other, we’re not. We don’t belong to anyone—not even ourselves—, but to the world instead. Life plays with us like marionettes, puts us in places that we think we can never get out of, but the road ahead is so much more surprising. Living in a labyrinth, looking for people who understood her, new beginnings and thrilling stories, she found someone. A person that she doesn’t want to lose, and someone whom hasn’t heard the truth. The full and heart-wrenching truth.

Because Mingyu is there. Belongs to the universe, and never to her. One day, anything could happen. He could get tired, bored, could simply move on and call it quits. He could come home one day and say that he doesn’t want to be with her anymore. But now, as his sleepy gaze stares at her with worry, she realizes that she doesn’t want him to belong to her. She wants to be with him. Aches and desires to spill her truth out and enjoy him for the time that life plants him there for her to enjoy.

May the flowers bloom of the seeds her words leave. They could die, but they will get to grow first.

“…I have to tell you something. Before it’s too late to actually say it…” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes and her nose, sniffling softly before looking into his eyes. There has always been this understanding in him, even when he doesn’t always say the proper thing—as if he knows, deep within him, that they understand each other. That no matter how many times mistakes settle on their hearts, they know their deepest intentions. “It may be too soon for you and I know I said I’d wait until you’re ready but—”

“I love you.” He says it first, aware, not shying away, savoring the taste on the roof of his mouth before stealing another kiss away from her lips. “I don’t want to wait. Good things can’t wait.”

He always said he wasn’t the most patient, but perhaps, she was the one that would wait a thousand years just to have him.

There is not an exact reason that she can think of as to why he would love her. Why, out of all things, Mingyu would open up his heart again—and why she does, too. They have been broken, but they grew two new, stronger hearts. Not fixing the old ones, but helping each other craft a new organ. One where he made a home for her, and she has made a throne for him.

“I love you and I want you to know that I’m here for you. For anything. Whatever you need me for.” He breathes out, rubbing his fingers on her cheek before looking down at her. “…If it wasn’t that what you were going to tell me, I’m sorry. Again, my second name is dumbass so—”

“I love you, too, Mingyu.” She tries to chuckle through the tears, though her bottom lip pouts out and Mingyu sighs deeply, wrapping his arms around her and relishing her with a kiss.

Though love is not perfect, it’s much better to meet in the middle. Two people who will either end up together forever, or for whatever long ever decides to stay. Never can be an option, too, but she knows that whatever the outcome is, Mingyu is the one portion of her past that she would never want to forget.

And it’s time for her to learn that the hours of the life clock are ticking, and she wants to spend all of them with him.

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #kpop scenarios #writing #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #mingyu au #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #photographer!au #musical actress!Au #this is such a slowburn fic like lord help me #also i've had this idea since last year and didn't know who to write it for but #mingyu seemed fitting so #here goes