#i know its semi normal around these parts in the summer but still

[anomalous-health]

Okay but like

SKIN.

What the actual fuck

#the human body is weird #and gross #oh my god why #also i keep hearing fucking gunshots in the woods #i know its semi normal around these parts in the summer but still #maybe its fireworks #fucking wolverines up in your ass #that was a red dawn reference if you were wondering #not that anyone gives a rat's ass #apparently i woke up and chose chaos

[violetren]

The Girl Who Fell Through The World sounds so interesting and not even just because it's Remnant's analogue to Alice in Wonderland.

It's in the way the girls talk about it and the main character.

Blake describes Alyx as unfortunate followed by trouble wherever she goes in a world where she doesn't know the rules and is just trying to get by.

Yang semi rebuts this saying Alyx was kinda mean lying and cheating her way through everything.

Weiss points out that the girl was just trying her best to survive.

Ruby doesn't contribute because she's depressed.

And it all their POV's make sense to me even without knowing the exact story because I know a little about Alice in Wonderland.

For Blake who had present and loving parents and therefore arguably the most normal childhood but who was also a Faunus who likely learned quickly that different rules applied to her than human children and she could get in trouble for things they would be praised for its not surprising that a story of a young girl in a world that seemed stacked against her would be relatable and any questionable acts by that girl would get overlooked as part of that unless they were pointed out.

Then there is Yang who had to grow up all too quickly to basically raise her sister and sustain her family after Summer died. If Alyx is meant to be even passingly like Alice who it the epitome of "tired kid doesn't understand stupid adult social rules and rituals, gets grumpy" then of course Yang who has already learned all these social tricks to get by doesn't relate and is judgemental of Alyx for not being able to adapt or "be mature" like her.

And finally Weiss who had barely a glimmer of a normal childhood while her grandfather was still around before finding herself forced to adapt to an even more rule heavy lifestyle than Yang. The kind of setting and social pressures where knowing the rules was only half the battle, learning how to exploit them was the key to survival. The one for whom Alyx's shenanigans may not have been necessarily relatable but may still have provoked a feeling of recognition.

#chirping wren #rwby volume 9 spoilers #rwby spoilers #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #weiss schnee #rwby #rwby volume 9

[jake-kiszkas-smirk]

Here Comes the Sun (part 15)

Danny Wagner X fem OC X Josh Kiszka

18+ only, minors DNI

warnings: oral (m rec), gagging, angst, bruises, alcohol consumption, semi-public sexual content. I think thats it, as always please let me know if I missed anything

Rose's POV

The last week I had been so busy with school that I really hadn't gotten to spend any time with either of the guys, so as I finished packing my bag for the trip my stomach was filled with butterflies. I couldn't wait to spend the whole weekend with them. I was a little nervous about things going smoothly, so I had decided I'd try my best to divide my time between them equally. Josh had been a little more distant than normal but I attributed that to just getting things lined up for this bigger show.

Danny<3- I'm almost there, it's just me, Sam wanted to ride with his girlfriend or whatever she is to him lol

-Alright, I'm almost done packing, just come in when you get here

I made sure to pack warm clothes, they had told me we were staying in a cabin and it sometimes get chilly at night. I heard the front door open and close, then Danny telling Lucas hi as he passed him on the way to my room.

"Hey you," He said sweetly, pulling me into a kiss, "I've missed you"

"It's only been like 4 days" I giggled as I pulled away,

"4 days too many" He replied as he kissed me again, harder this time.

"Well, we have a long drive ahead of us to catch up, I just need to change really quick" I pulled my shirt over my head and he rubbed his thumb over my shoulder, I looked in the mirror and saw he was touching the mark from where he had bit me the last time he'd seen me.

"I can't believe you still have a bruise from this," He said sheepishly, "Hows your ass?" He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck

"For your information, it hurt to sit for days." I said playfully as I poked his chest, causing him to grin, "And before you say it, I know I asked for it, and I'm not complaining" I said putting my hands on his hips and kissing him, his lips curling into a smile. There were definitely still bruises on my ass too, but they were a lighter shade of yellow and almost healed.

I changed into a pair of loose jeans and an oversized sweater. I picked up my bag and Danny quickly took it from my hand to carry it for me. I shook my head and rolled my eyes, but I knew better than to argue. I told Lucas bye and we went out to Dannys car. He opened my door, putting my bag in the backseat before getting in the drivers seat.

"So tell me about this cabin?" I said as he put the car in drive, a big grin formed on his face

"Well, me and the guys usually go every summer, its close to a lake, and lots of amazing hiking trails. This is only the second time we have gone during winter, so we can't swim, but we can find other stuff to do" he wiggled his eyebrows at me.

"I doubt we will have any alone time with all 3 Kiszkas there." I laughed, "Oh, I just wanted to let you know Josh asked me to go on a hike with him when we get there" I saw his face fall a little, "But when I get back I'm all yours" I added, reaching over and putting my hand on his knee. He grabbed my hand and brought it up to his mouth, kissing it.

"So..you and Josh are still seeing each other too?" he asked softly, keeping his eyes on the road,

"Yes..why wouldn't we be?" I asked, feeling my face get hot,

"I just thought after you said, what you said..what we said" he said, squeezing my hand a little tighter, I smiled softly at how he worked around saying it because he was nervous,

"You mean that I love you?" I asked plainly, staring over at him.

"Yes, that" he blushed, trying to suppress his beaming grin, "I just thought, I don't know...that it meant that it was just you and me now."

"I do love you Danny, but I love him too...it's just in different ways. And as much as I love you, I'm sorry I'm just still not ready to make-" my voice had started to crack as I felt myself getting nervous,

"Hey, its ok, I'm not trying to force you into anything or rush you, I was just asking." He reached over and caressed my face, "It's alright, I'll wait however long I need too." I nodded and looked over to see him give me a reassuring smile, "Now, lets pick a playlist for the rest of the drive" He said, mercifully changing the subject. "Oh, and I love you too." He added as he rested his hand on my thigh.

Josh's POV

I sat in the seat by the window as I waited for Rose to show up to the cabin. I hadn't seen her since that night at the bar, and I missed her. Things had felt a little strained before that with her brother, and then after the fight she had left with Danny. I was sure some alone time with her would make me feel better, I just missed her. I looked around the cabin, Sam and his girl where cuddled up on the couch being disgustingly cute. Jake had immediately disappeared into his room with his girlfriend. I quickly turned back to the window when I heard the sound of a car door. I saw Danny walking around to the passenger side, opening the door. I jumped up ready to go out and greet Rose, but I froze when I saw her get out and wrap her arms around Danny's neck. He pressed her against the car and they kissed, I felt my stomach drop. I knew they obviously did things...but seeing it was painful. I turned away and decided to wait in my room for her, I knew she'd eventually ask where I was, and that way we'd have a little privacy. I knew it would take her a while to get her stuff to her room, so I started unpacking some of my stuff. I heard footsteps going past my room, and I got closer to the door. I could her and Danny talking,

"Yeah, you can have my room, I will sleep on the couch." He said

"Are you sure?" She asked sweetly. I had even missed her voice.

"I'm sure Angel" I wanted to gag at the pet name he had for her, "Me and the rest of the group are going to run into town for groceries, I'll see you later."

"Ok, I love you," She said softly, but I still heard it. My chest got tight as I backed away from the door. She loved him, she had never even come close to saying that to me. I quickly tried to shake my emotions away as I heard a soft knock at the door.

"Come in" I said quietly as I kept my back facing the door, I heard the door open and shut. Then I braced myself as she jumped onto my back. I felt some of my worries melt away for a moment as she playfully peppered the side of my face with kisses. I giggled as she hopped down, turning me to face her as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me into a passionate kiss.

"I missed you" She said when she finally pulled away. I wrapped her in a hug and held her tight, like she'd slip away if I let go.

"I missed you more" I said as I reluctantly let go, "I just want to apologize again for the bar, I didn't know about all the history,"

"Thats not your fault, really, don't apologize," She said as she caressed my face, "Are you ready for our hike? I know I am!" She said excitedly as she took my hands,

"I am," I laughed at how cute she was, "Lets go," I grabbed my backpack with some supplies and we headed out the door. It was about midday, so it wasn't quite as cold it would be later. I led her towards our favorite trail and I couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful she looked all the time, but especially out in nature, the way her eyes sparkled when she pointed to a small flower or found a rock and tucked it away in her pocket. We were far into the woods when my mind started to wonder back to hearing her at the cabin, and I started to feel very insecure about her and I. Her brother hated me, Danny knew more about her past than me, and she was telling him she loved him.

"Josh," I snapped out of it,

"Yes baby?" I replied, clearing my throat

"I've said your name like three times now, whats up with you?" She asked, taking both of my hands, looking up at me with concerned eyes,

"I just-I'm a little stressed about the show tomorrow" I lied, not willing to admit how jealous and insecure I was feeling.

"Theres no reason for you to be nervous, you're amazing." She replied, I suddenly wished I had told her the truth and that would have been her same response,

"Thank you sweetheart, its just a bigger venue than normal" I sighed,

"Well," She slowly backed me into a tree, pressing her body against mine, kissing me deeply, her tongue surprising me when it slid into my mouth. I accepted it of course and felt myself starting to melt into her, "I can provide you with a little stress relief," She said with a mischievous look in her eye, dropping to her knees.

"Whoa," I breathed out as she started palming me through my jeans, "Right now? Out here?"

"Mhm" She said, unbuttoning my pants, "Or, I can stop if you don't want me to?"

"No, please don't stop" I groaned as I felt myself growing hard under her touch, she grinned as she continued to unbutton my pants, sliding them and my boxers down to my mid thigh. I glanced around, I doubted anyone else would be out here, but the thought of getting caught was a different kind of rush. I took in a sharp breath as she took my length in her hand, pumping it a few times, looking up at me with doe eyes through her lashes. I reached down and cradled the side of her face, then sliding my hand back to pull her hair into a makeshift ponytail.

She wet her lips with her tongue before placing a kiss on my tip. She then trailed kisses down the rest of my length, her eyes never leaving mine as she built up the anticipation,

"Come on beautiful, please put me in your sweet mouth" I whispered.

she grinned up at me before abruptly licking a stripe from base to tip, I gripped her hair tighter and bit my bottom lip as she then took me into her mouth, bobbing her head slowly, swirling her tongue expertly. My breaths were getting ragged as I felt myself getting close,

"fuck, your mouth feels so good," I rasped, trying my hardest to hold back from fucking into her throat. Like she could read my mind she sunk down to the hilt, gagging but not stopping, she raked her nails down my thighs and continued moving in a way that I was hitting the back of her throat every time,

"Yes baby, just like that, I'm going to cum" I groaned out. She sped up and groaned as I gripped her hair even tighter, the vibrations causing me to spill down the back of her throat as I cursed and whispered her name.

She pulled off of me, wiping her chin with the back of her arm as she stood up. She pulled up my boxers and pants, buttoning them back as I stared at her in a daze. I finally moved my hands, wiping the mascara that had run down her face.

"So, how do you feel now?" She asked me with a proud smile on her face,

"Better," I paused as I pulled her hips against me, "And like I'm going to thoroughly enjoy paying you back for that later." she grinned as I kissed her forehead, "We should probably start heading back before it gets dark"

"You're just in a hurry to get me back to the cabin" She teased as she walked off in front of me,

"You're not wrong," I said as I jogged to catch up with her, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her, spinning her around.

We walked back to the cabin and everyone else was still gone, I was slightly relieved we still had some time to ourselves. As we got closer to the cabin I noticed Rose starting to shiver a little,

"You cold sweetheart?" I asked, pulling her closer to me,

"I am, my pants are wet and its making me really cold." She answered, I glanced down to her knees to see them soaked from when she had knelt on the ground earlier

"Well, I have a solution for that," I said as we entered the cabin. We walked into the bathroom and I turned on the shower, "There is nothing better after a hike than a hot shower.....and shower sex." I added with a wink

"I definitely think that would warm me up" She said as she shut the door, locking it. "But we have to hurry before the others get back," I nodded and we both quickly started to strip.

"Shit, I'll be right back, I gotta go get towels from the laundry room" I still had my pants on as I ran to get us towels. When I got back Rose was already in the shower and I could hardly wait to join her. I slid the curtain open and was welcomed with her facing me, her wet hair draped over her shoulders,

"Did you lock the door?" She asked, I quickly reached back and locked it. I stepped into the shower and she immediately was against me, her arms wrapped around my neck. I pulled her close, kissing at her jaw as she moaned softly into my ear. My hands traveled from her back down to her ass, giving it a squeeze. She jolted back and gasped, and I looked at her confused.

"Whats wrong?" I asked

"Nothing sorry," She said as she pulled herself closer, kissing me. I didn't believe her so I pulled away, putting my hands on her hips and turning her around. My eyes got wide as I saw her ass covered in yellowish brown bruises.

"Rosie, what the fuck happened?" I asked, gently running my hand over them,

"Well Danny-" She started softly,

"I'll kill him" I said, my voice dropping lower than normal out of anger, my hands forming fists

"No, Josh." She turned and grabbed my face with both hands, "I-I asked him to."

"What?" I asked, genuinely shocked cause she had never asked me for anything like that.

"I like it," She said, crossing her hands over her chest like she was suddenly embarrassed to be in front of me. Another thing he had going for him. Something she had never even asked me for, even if she did I couldn't do it, I couldn't bear hurting her even if she liked it. I felt my heart beating faster as I thought about all these things building up against me, and I just had to get out of there.

"I- I think I heard the front door. I can just shower later" I said as I started to get out,

"Josh please stay, I'm sure its fine" She said grabbing my hand,

"I'm supposed to help with dinner, so I should go" I lied again, her face fell. "I will see you when you get out" I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before wrapping in a towel and heading to my room.

I felt that awful tightness in my chest again as I collapsed onto the bed. I was never a jealous person, but right now I was full of jealousy. She was slipping away from me and I could feel it. Maybe I was overreacting, I wasn't sure anymore. My brain was foggy with so many insecurities and emotions. I decided I should probably get dressed and go help with dinner before she caught me in a lie and got suspicious. I walked into the kitchen and found Danny and Sam setting things up to start cooking chili. Jake, his girl, and Sam's girl were setting up games on the coffee table in the living area.

"Did you go to the liquor store?" I asked, not to anyone in particular.

"Yeah, those bags over there." Danny answered. "Where's Rose?"

"She's showering," I replied flatly as I poured a shot of tequila. Danny walked off towards his room.

"Whats with you?" Sam asked,

"None of your business." I said back, taking the shot before pouring another one.

"Well Mr.grumpy guy, we need to brown that meat so that the chili can simmer while we start game night." Sam said as he placed a frying pan in front of me. I took it and started doing as he asked. Minutes later I felt a hand on my shoulder, I turned my head slightly to see Rose,

"Hey, are you ok?" She asked quietly,

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said forcing a smile,

"Alright," She gave me a quick hug from behind before walking over to the couch and sitting next to Danny. Jake said something about starting the game and called me over.

"Be there in a second." I took another quick shot and then made myself a margarita. I was already feeling tipsy before that third shot, and I probably shouldn't have taken it but I felt like I needed it to get through the night. Other people had started sipping on beers or mixed drinks but no one was close to the same level as me. We started the game of uno and I couldn't keep my eyes off of Danny and Rose's legs touching. It wasn't anything crazy but I could feel it getting to me. I was shaken from my thoughts when I heard Sam's timer go off on his phone.

"Foods ready!" He shouted before jumping up and running to the kitchen. His girl, whos name I wasn't sure of rolled her eyes, laughing as she followed him. Danny stood up, speaking to Rose

"I'll get you a bowl, cheese or no cheese?" He asked,

"No cheese please," She said giving him that sweet smile, "Thank you" He was staring back at her like he was in a trance and like no one else was in the room, he leaned down and kissed her,

"You're welcome" He whispered, smiling as he pulled away

"Hey!" I yelled, "That is against the deal!" I shouted,

"Josh," Danny said, his eyes wide, putting his hands up in defense.

"No, you know the rules!" I slurred, standing up and almost stumbling over.

"Deal?" Rose said, Danny's eyes instantly went to hers,

"Rose.." He said reaching for her hand, she pulled it away

"What fucking deal" She asked, looking between the two of us.

#josh kiszka #gvf #greta van fleet #greta van smut #greta van fleet smut #josh gvf #danny wagner #greta van fleet fan fiction #Danny wagner smut #Josh kiszka smut #Danny gvf

[entropical-punch]

A Matter of Drive

Reader and Rex are coming back from a date night, but Rex isn’t ready for the night to end.

Part three to my little We Pariahs venture; I was inspired by Rex’s secret kink for vanilla dates, and I hope it worked, @rotworld

Warnings: 18+, rough sex, car sex, semi-public sex, dirty talk, thank goodness there’s no one else in this parking lot

You lean your head out the window, breathing in the air around you. It smells like night, soft and cool, the antithesis of the man sitting in the driver’s seat. 

Rex, with his lip curled up in a permanent scowl, has one hand loosely gripping the steering wheel and the other not-so-loosely gripping your upper thigh. His fingers are warm and calloused, nails too blunt to put imprints on your skin but trying their best to remind you that they could, if he really wanted them to. 

And you know he does.

You’re heading back to his house, coming off of a drive-in movie that anyone looking in would call a date, but Rex would vehemently deny while also smashing their face into a brick wall. He would also never admit he picked the movie, a cheesy summer slasher stuffed full of sex and violence, over and over, interplayed together in every scene.

Whatever you had watched, it was enough to get Rex going, enough to get him to miss the turn and instead pull into a near-empty parking lot, hand with its ever-tightening grip still on your leg. 

He shuts the car off and turns to you, face flushed and eyes alight.

“C’mere,” he says, grabbing you by the collar and smashing his mouth into yours, his teeth immediately finding their purchase on your lower lip. He bites down, drawing blood, licking it up as fast as it pools out. You whimper, hands scrambling on his jacket, but that only makes him clamp down harder, tearing into you more and more.

“You must’ve really liked the movie, huh?” you tease when he finally pulls away for air. 

“You don’t even know what you do to me, stupid fucking film or not,” he groans, palming the front of his jeans. He pulls on the back on your neck, dragging you over the center console and grinding your face into the growing hardness. He makes you pull the zipper down with your teeth; the metal uncomfortably scraping against them as you do so. 

You move forward to pull his underwear down in the same fashion, but he pulls you back before you can. Rex looks at you, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, blood that isn’t his staining his mouth. knuckles waiting for a reason to hit you. You can tell he wants to make you look like one of the victims in the slasher you just watched, really make this date night want he wants, but the car is constraining his movements, and his normal plan of finding something to get pissed about as justification won’t work.

So instead, he pushes you down to the floor in front of him. Your head hits the dashboard when he does this, your knees scratching against the rough carpet under the driver’s seat.

Now, he pulls his cock out, already stiff and leaking. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, as you close your lips around the tip and suck.

You don’t get a moment to work before he’s grabbing the back of your head and sheathing himself inside to to hilt, your nose bumping against his stomach, trying not to gag.

He holds you there for a bit, watching you struggle to breathe and keep calm as his salty pre-cum starts to trickles down your throat.

“You’re so good,” he exhales. You’d say he’s looking at you with tenderness, but Rex is tender in the same way Levine is bubbly and Jay is shy.

As he thrusts into your mouth, he moves his boot to your crotch, toe finding your sex and grinding down into it. You let out a whine, sending vibrations through his cock and only making him go faster. You start moving your hips in hurried thrusts, trying desperately to match his rhythm, the pressure of the shoe hurting just as much as it helps.

“You’re gonna come on my foot the minute I finish, ok? Gonna fuck yourself until it stings, and then I’m gonna make you swallow every last drop, and then I’m gonna bend you over the hood of this car and show everyone just how much you love me and-”

His rambling threat gets cut off by his climax; his eyes squeezing shut as he holds your head in place to ensure you can’t spit out any of his cum. This spurs you on to hump into his shoe quicker, feeling your release build until it crashes over you, and you slump forward into his lap.

You look up at him, and you can’t help but smile, blood and cum mixing on your lips as you lick them up.

“What’re you grinning at? Get up; we’re going home. Don’t want anyone else to see you, anyways,” he says, tucking himself back into his pants and keeping a hand on you as you get up.

Rex moves that hand back to your thigh, grips it even harder than before, and starts the car up. You know he’s gonna leave a bruise there the minute you get back home. You know part of him yearns to love you in the daylight, where the marks he leaves are more visible. You know he wants to do these date nights more often, with just you, Jay and Levine as far away from him as possible. 

But, you both know that’ll never happen, not now, with the four of you tangled up in each other like spiders caught up in their own web. 

For tonight, though, Rex gets to have you all to himself, and you wonder just how often you can get him to say he loves you.

#we pariahs #rotworld #rotpeach #rex #ns/fw #Fic

[theringers]

counting crimes - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part three

summary: “wandering eyes and comfortable lies, you seem to sleep just fine” counting crimes / nessa barrett

a/n: i’m thinking there’s only gonna be two more parts but that may change, we’ll see. enjoy this and let me know what u think! feedback is always appreciated xoxo

also this gif today killed me

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, semi public sex shocker!, lil angst, cocky pierre

Your eyes widen as you try to comprehend what to do. Someone was at the door and Pierre was still inside of you, in shock. “Hey, y/n? Are you in there?” Max’s voice could be heard through the door. He tried to push the door in but the deadbolt stopped him.

You glared at Pierre, cleared your throat and placed a finger on his lips. “Yes, give me a few seconds.” You panicked and pulled your dress up, trying not to make too much noise.

Where the fuck was Pierre supposed to go? You should have just kept quiet. Your eyes focused on the window and you pointed towards it, quietly shoving him out.

He squeezed himself through the window and stepped down onto the grass. After quietly shutting the window, you looked in the mirror and readjusted your dress. Your hair needed some readjusting as well, so you quickly brushed through it.

You unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door to see your husband. “Hey,” he smiled at you, genuinely happy to see you.

“Hi, Max.” Your voice was shaking but you smiled to try to play it off. You usually had a good amount of time to psych yourself up before you went back to Max but you could still feel how Pierre had fucked you.

You were awful. He placed his hands on your hips and kissed your cheek. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re kind of hot.” He placed the back of his hand to your forehead.

“Yeah, it was really hot in there but I feel better now.” Hopefully he would buy that story.

“Well, if you’re feeling better now, I have an idea.” His hands rested on your hips again and pulled you into his body. “We have a few minutes to kill. What do you say we have a little bit of fun in here? It is our anniversary after all.” His lips found your neck and placed soft, gentle kisses on the skin. “You look so beautiful tonight, baby.” You were feeling sexually frustrated after being interrupted but he was right. It was your anniversary, so what the hell.

You leaned your neck to the side, inviting him in. “I love this dress, but it needs to come off.” He looked you in the eyes and smiled, reaching around for the zipper. He bent his knees and slowly pulled your dress to your ankles. His hands rested around your calves and move upwards while his lips trailed kisses on the soft skin of your thighs.

His finger pushed aside your panties and he slid a finger between your folds. “Jesus baby, you’re so wet.” He smiled and looked up at you. You moaned and rolled your eyes into the back of your head to avoid making eye contact with him. His tongue found its way between your legs, licking lightly before fucking your pussy with his tongue. You let out a moan while your body jerked toward his face uncontrollably. You needed him to finish you off so badly.

His fingernails ran lightly over the skin on your abdomen down to your thighs. “Oh, Max” you moaned.

Your hand quickly covered your mouth, remembering that even though he wasn’t out there possibly listening there were other people who shouldn’t hear you right now either.

He pulled his suit pants down and took himself in his hand, smiling at you. “I love you,” he said before entering you. He pressed against your body and thrusted up into you while looking in your eyes.

“I love you too, baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a moan.

Sometimes you forgot what it was like to have sex without the looming threat of someone finding out. Instead of worrying about someone catching you cheating, you were able to focus on the sensation and the intimacy but even now, something was missing.

Max left the bathroom before you, allowing you more time to clean up and look normal. You didn’t want to draw any more attention. “Hey guys, sorry I wasn’t feeling to well.” You said, grabbing your napkin off the table and taking your old seat. Max looked flushed for obvious reasons and couldn’t hide his smile.

You turned to your left and smiled at Pierre and Anna. “Did I miss anything?” Pierre’s gaze was glued to the stage ahead and he refused to look at you. His jaw was clenched and you could feel the steam coming out of his ears. You made eye contact with Anna and cocked your head in confusion. Why was he acting this way? Maybe Anna thinks it’s something she did wrong.

“Nothing important, for us at least,” she said, fixing single pieces of her hair.

Max’s hand gripped your inner thigh and he looked over to you and smiled. You returned the smile but immediately looked in Pierre’s direction to see him still refusing to look at you, his fist balled at his side.

Hotels in random cities at 2 am are lonely. The sound of Max’s snores kept you awake longer than expected. Your mind was wandering to places you wish it wouldn’t and you couldn’t get silence long enough to dream. The air conditioner in the room was set to the coolest temperature - hotel air always hitting different. Your mouth was dry, making you uncomfortable and adding to another thing making you unable to sleep.

You pulled the covers aside in frustration and grabbed a pair of shorts to put on under Max’s oversized Red Bull Racing shirt. You looked around for the room key and slid it off the table as soon as you spotted it.

As you stood in the elevator, you looked down and noticed your bare feet. It was 2 am so you were hoping there was no one important in the lobby. You just wanted a sip of cold water to help put you to sleep.

The night before races always made you nervous. You never knew what was going to happen so you had a constant pit in your stomach over your husband’s safety. That stress only increased when you began sleeping with another driver. Someone else’s safety to worry about.

You smiled at the older couple that greeted you when the elevator door opened. You crossed your arms and tip toed to the mini bar, grabbing the largest bottle of water they carried. After giving the gentleman your room number, you ran towards the closing elevator doors only to be met with familiar blue eyes. His hair was messy and his skin was glowing from sweat.

“Don’t mind me,” he said, stepping to one side. Even though he clearly just worked out you could still smell the strong scent of his cologne. “How have you been, y/n?”

“I’ve been okay. Your summer break looked fun,” you took a quick sip of your water and smiled at him.

“As did yours.” The silence was uncomfortable. You two were always laughing and talking nonstop. It was what you loved about him.

You focused on the pounding of your heart and your eyes wandered, trying to pass the uncomfortable time.

You suddenly lost your balance as the elevator shook, the lights flickered off, and the cables stopped. Turning your head towards Pierre, you began to get worried.

“Did this just break?” He asked, pressing the floor buttons and hoping the lights would come back on.

“Just our luck.” You laughed at yourselves. Why did the universe hate you? You plopped down onto the ground and twiddled your thumbs, realizing that you left your phone in the hotel room. “Do you have your phone?” You asked Pierre.

He lifted his wrist to show his apple watch. “I just went on a run. I never bring it with me on a run.” Of course he didn’t.

You groaned and banged your head on the wall behind you.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” He laughed, pleased with himself. He slid down to join you on the floor, the summer heat starting to creep into the elevator.

After not speaking for the entire summer break, this unconventional meeting was quite uncomfortable. You watched on Instagram as him and his wife vacationed in Bali, looking happy as ever. Granted, he did the same with you but he would never admit it. He had too much pride.

“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” You asked him, bluntly.

He looked at you making you feel dumb. “Why do you think I didn’t? I spent four weeks straight with Anna. Would you want me calling you up while you were on holiday with Max?”

“I don’t know,” you stumbled over your words. “I just would have liked to talk to you.”

“I told you before, I can’t keep doing this.” He said, exhausted at the back and forth you two had done.

“Yet, you do. You tease me and torture me and then say you need to be devoted to her. It’s not fair to me.” You let out a deep breath, exhausted over feeling this way.

“You want to talk about fair? You had sex with Max right after me. Less than five minutes after I was inside of you, he was too.”

You looked at him confused.

“I thought you were just going to talk to him for a few moments and then send him off.” Oh no. “I was waiting for you to open the window and let me back in.” He ran his hands over his face.

“Pierre, I’m so-”

“Don’t, y/n.”

He heard you and Max. You felt remorse for doing it, putting Pierre through that. But at the same time, you didn’t. Pierre is sleeping with his friend’s wife. He has no place to be jealous or mad. He comes second.

“How much did you hear?”

“I left when I heard him talk about how wet you were. He thought it was because of him but he had no idea that it was all for me.” Pierre scooted closer to you and put his hand on your thigh.  “He has no idea how wet you get for me.” He moved in closer to your ear. “How good I make you feel.”

Your head spun at his words. When he made you cum, you forgot about everything in the entire world except for him.

“I’m really sorry, Pierre. That was shitty of me.” You rested your hand on his chest. “Let me make it up to you.” Your hand moved to his thigh and grazed over his thin mesh gym shorts.

You pulled his shorts off and took him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head. He pulled your loose hair into his hand as a makeshift ponytail. He let soft groans escape his lips, being mindful of the setting. He would look down to see you taking him fully and have to look away or else he would finish quicker than he would like. Each time his eyes trailed down, his hips thrusted uncontrollably and a grunt would leave his lips.

“That’s it baby,” he said, in a low tone but almost whining. “God, your mouth feels so good. It was made to take my cock.” He continued to fill your mouth and throat, making you gag and tighten around him.

He pulled your head up by your hair and looked at you. “Come sit on my face.” He looked at your outfit, examining how he could take it off in the easiest way possible. He slipped off your comfortable sweat shorts, leaving you in just your Red Bull tee.

He laid down on the ground and hoisted your legs up and around his chest, getting the perfect view of your ass.

You stroked his cock and started to grind your hips against his chest. He took you in his hands immediately, not up for teasing, and pulled you onto his face. You rocked your hips over his face at a slow, light pace while still focusing on taking him in your mouth.

His tongue flicked your clit while his thumbs massaged your ass, pressing down hard and most definitely leaving bruises.

You moaned at the feeling of your legs beginning to tingle. He loved to 69 with you because every time you got an ounce of pleasure, your moans vibrated around his cock. You would tighten your throat and gag, sending him down a spiral. You both knew how to make each other feel incredible.

His facial hair tickled your inner thighs and left light scratches on the skin. As you ground your hips into his mouth, the sensation got rougher but the pleasure just increased.

He used his ab muscles to thrust into your throat, looking for his release. You tightened your grip around the base of his cock and suctioned even harder with your mouth as he let go.

Your legs went fully numb as the tension began to build in your stomach. You reached your peak, hearing Pierre’s tongue lap at your juices.

You rolled off of his body, looking for your shorts. The guilt was already beginning to set in and you couldn’t escape it now. You were stuck.

Pierre wiped his mouth with his hand and you noticed his whole face was wet. He was still smiling.

“I just hope Anna and Max aren’t standing there waiting for us when these doors decide to open.”

“Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake?” You laughed, brushing your fingers through your now knotty hair.

Pierre pulled his shorts back on and looked at you. “Now be honest with me, who eats your pussy better? Me or him?”

“You can’t ask me that.”

“I can and I did.”

“Well, I’m not going to give you an answer.”

He laughed at you, not the reaction you were expecting. “Don’t worry, I already have the answer. I heard the sounds you make when he’s between your legs. It’s nothing compared to the sounds you just made for me.” He winked at you, knowing exactly where you stand with him.

next part

#f1 imagine #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fanfiction #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly blurb #pierre gasly smut ask #pierre gasly imagine #pg #mv

[spirantization]

A Brief Guide to Living in High Temperatures

B.C. is experiencing a heatwave at moment with temps going up to 40C, and I offered @vimesbootstheory some advice on how to deal with it since they were concerned about reacting negatively to the heat. I've lived for about 3 years in India, in a place where the temperature routinely gets up to 45C in the heat of summer, and as a Canadian who is comfortable in cold weather it was a bit of an adjustment. No doubt other places and people will be going through extreme heat this year, so I hope I can offer some insight for those of us who are not accustomed to these sorts of temperatures.

1. Drink electrolytes! Not just water, which is not always enough. Your normal body temp is around 37C, so existing in temps higher than that will cause you to sweat just by existing. You need to replenish both fluids and electrolytes. You can get sport hydrators like Vega that you mix in with water, or drink fruit juice with some salt mixed in (it sounds gross, but it tastes surprisingly good). Try to drink at least a litre more than you normally would, but ideally as much as you can. This is really the most important thing.

2. Limit exposure to cold things. I know this sounds counter intuitive, because you're boiling out of your skin and nothing would feel better than to dunk yourself into a vat of ice. But trying to fix the extreme temperature with another extreme temperature will make your body very confused and destroy your ability to regulate your own body temperature. It might feel good in the short term, but you'll heat up again quickly and it'll feel twice as hot. You know when it's hot out, and you go into a store that has the AC on blast, and then you go back outside and you get hit with a wave of heat and you feel ill? Exposing your body to too many temperature jumps is really hard on it. Be nice to your body. It's doing its best. So in this vein:

avoid drinking iced beverages (hot, room temp or chilled is okay)

avoid cold showers, take cool showers instead (my true galaxy brain suggestion is to take hot showers; if you take a hot shower you will trick your body into thinking the air is actually cool. The opposite works in cold weather by taking a cold shower but I'm too much of a baby to do it.)

If you're really overheating, wet a cotton scarf or cloth and put it over your head and neck. Don't put ice directly on your skin.

3. Be careful with the AC. If you have a unit where you can set the temperature, try to set it as high as you can comfortably handle it. 25C will still offer relief if the outside temp is 38C, but it's not as extreme as jumping down to 18C. Having a fan and decent air circulation is important to making the room feel cool.

A big part of why I'm saying this is because my experience with these high temps has been in India, so you can take this with a grain of salt. I've lived in places where the buildings are not designed to be airtight, so the outside is leaking in constantly and it's impractical to have the AC running all day. And sometimes the power goes out and that's it, you don't have the option of AC until it comes back on and you've got to find a way to deal in another way. It might be 20 minutes or it might be 20 hours. Other parts of the world have more reliable power grids than semi-rural India, but there's always the possibility of drastically increased consumption of power causing blackouts anywhere in the world.

4. Stay inside during the heat of the day. Avoid going outside between 10am-6pm when it's the hottest. If you have to go somewhere, try to go early in the morning or later in the evening when the sun is about to set.

5. Set realistic expectations for yourself. You probably won't be able to do all the things you'd like to do. Going for a walk or exercising might be too much. Concentrating can be difficult. If all you're able to do is stare out a window, drinking water and sweating, that's okay. Give yourself permission to do a little less or feel grouchy.

That's about it! Please be safe out there in the heat, and take care of yourself. It's going to be a hot summer.

#i cannot emphasize drinking electrolytes enough and i never see people saying it #drink electrolytes!!! #it makes a HUGE different over just drinking water #you can make your own with sugar and salt if you really want #i feel like most of this is just ''how to cope if you don't have ac'' #but i genuinely think relying too much on ac is harmful especially when it gets cranked up way too high #both for our bodies and for the planet #and if you rely too much on ac when you DO have to go outside your body will be acclimated to a temperature that's about 20 degrees below #if you live in these kinds of temperatures you have to acclimate your body to them #and then if you're like me you turn into a horrible little goblin who wears sweaters in 25C and complains about the cold

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 6: Firsts

24 fics under the cut

Sometimes Things Just Work Out | @vampamber

Rating: General Word Count: 1,027 Main Tags/Warnings: arranged marriage, angel Cas, royalty AU, mistaken identities Summary: Castiel is not looking forward to being forced to marry this Prince Dean person. The angel had never met him, never even laid eyes on him. For all he knew, the marriage would be miserable. Now, this human who's trying to hide in Castiel's room? It made Castiel wish that he wasn't going to be part of an arranged marriage, because he was really starting to like this green eyed stranger.

Through the Night | @smokerdean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,147 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel Out of the Empty, Soft Epilogue, First Times, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sharing a Bed Summary: The motel is the same as thousands of others Dean has stayed in over the course of his life, but it's different, it's better, because he is here with Cas.

The Report Card | @fpwoper

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,211 Main Tags/Warnings: First Time, Crack Fic, Blow Jobs Summary: The morning after Dean and Cas first fool around, Dean finds a honest to god report card.

Dragon's Den | @fpwoper

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,280 Main Tags/Warnings: First Date, Dragon!Cas Summary: Dean and Cas's first meeting is in a coffee shop they randomly chose. It's just... a little dragon heavy.

Taking one for Team Free Will | @fellshish

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,560 Main Tags/Warnings: First kiss, pov dean winchester Summary: There’s a spell that requires an angel’s kiss to work. Dean takes one for the team.

Cannibal Queen | @one-more-offbeat-anthem

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,683 Main Tags/Warnings: creature!Castiel and creature!Dean, first time, porn with plot, virgin Castiel, mild gore Summary: What's a zombie to do when he finds out his (pretty hot) roommate and best friend is a vampire? In the case of Dean Winchester, the plan is to convince said vampire that they should team up and heist slaughterhouses. But when a run goes wrong, there are some unexpected consequences...

A Sign of Affection | @clarrisani

Rating: General Word Count: 2,159 Main Tags/Warnings: First Kiss, Fluff Summary: Castiel learns that different kisses mean different things.

9x06 coda : I'm sorry | @allofmystudentsrunaway

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2,288 Main Tags/Warnings: Mutual Masturbation, Angst with a Happy Ending, AngstEmotional Hurt/Comfort, fanfic gap Summary: fan fic gap first time.

The blonde-haired witch and the little push | @chaoticdean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,830 Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Witches, Oblivious Castiel/Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed Summary: It’s not the first time Dean’s ever had to listen to someone referring to Castiel as “his boyfriend”, but it sure as hell is the first time he has to sit through a diner listening to a witch referring to Cas as his husband without even batting an eyelash, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Which would be fine if it didn’t cause actual shivers to run down his spine. (or the one where a friendly witch gives Dean the little push he needs)

Every Part of You | @the-communist-unicorn

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,097 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Panty Kink, Married Dean/Cas, Explicit Sex (but non-penetrative so there's no top or bottom), References to Homophobia Summary: Cas discovered his husband's secret completely by accident, but now that he knew, he wasn't just going to let Dean shove it back in that shoe box like it was something to be ashamed of. Every part of Dean was perfect and beautiful, and Cas might have just discovered a kinky side of himself too.

Whiskey and Wifi | @celipuff

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,401 Main Tags/Warnings: Top!Castiel/Bottom!Dean, Dom Sub Undertones, Neighbors, Castiel Has A Panty Kink Summary: Cas may have lost a WiFi connection, but when he makes his way over to his neighbors house, he ends up gaining something much better.

At Last! | @chaoticdean

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,617 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, Best Friends, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Airports, First Kiss, 5+1 Things Summary: Five times Dean kept his mouth shut, and one time he didn’t.

OUR FIRST TIME | @cooloddball

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,920 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff and Smut Summary: Dean & Cas' first time together

Ghost Town Saints | @nothing-but-dreams

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,010 Main Tags/Warnings: College, House Party, Beer Pong, Marijuana, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Trans!Castiel, Supportive Dean, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: College is out for summer vacation, and that means Cas is back home with his family. Ever since he came out as trans, things have been tense, to say the least. After yet another argument with his parents, Cas needs to clear his head. Luckily, his best friend Dean is just a text away. Dean suggests the two of them escape reality for a bit and hit up a party being held at Ghost Town. As they drink and get high, they realize their feelings for each other run deeper than friendship.

It Started With Arousal | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,260 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, angel Cas, alpha Cas, omega Dean, soul bonds, virgin Cas, porn with plot Summary: It was when Castiel violently slammed the demon into the wall mid-fight that he felt it. The bond he had with Dean ever since he pulled the omega out of Hell had been getting stronger lately, but this was the first time that Castiel truly experienced an emotion that wasn't his own. He had expected something like this to happen eventually, but there was no way he ever would have expected such a feeling at a time like this. Dean was… aroused? He spared a quick glance at the hunter, meeting green eyes but seeing nothing that might cause said arousal. When three more demons kicked through the door to enter the room and the fight, Castiel promptly forgot the confusing emotion. For the time being, at least.

Kiss Me | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,285 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Humor, Friends to Lovers Summary: Dean’s spur-of-the-moment ideas aren’t always the best, as lots of people are able to attest. And his last one really took the cake. Because now he’s unable to forget the taste of Castiel’s lips and he’s got no freaking clue how to deal with this.

Kiss at the Drive-in | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,380 Main Tags/Warnings: fluff and smut, getting together, drive-in cinema, semi-public sex, car sex, non-penetrative sex, handjobs, shy!Dean, dirty dancing, implied Bottom!Dean Summary: When Dirty Dancing airs in a Drive-in Cinema near the Bunker, Dean really wants to go with Castiel. Of course only because Castiel’s education about movies is still bad. Not like it’s a date. Sadly.

Swayze Always Gets A Pass | @kingdumbass

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,766 Main Tags/Warnings: Bunker Fic, First Kiss, Drunk Dean and Cas Summary: After Dean and Cas get into an argument over a case, Dean tries to apologize by asking Cas to Netflix and chill. Featuring: Cas the movie critic, his drunk friend, Dean, and Dean's tired brother, Sam.

Y Tu Dean Tambien | @a-mandala-rose

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6,909 Main Tags/Warnings: High School AU, Geek Dean, Closeted Bi Dean, Pan/Possibly Demi Cas, Referenced Homo/Biphobia, Low/No Angst, Implied/Referenced Consensual Underage Non-Penetrative Sex, Nothing Explicit, Happy Ending Summary: Dean Winchester has a crush. A great, big, secret, gay crush. Okay, more like a great, big, secret, bisexual crush, if we’re being technical. Either way though, the relevant word here is secret, because Dean lives in Kansas, which isn’t exactly known for its thriving LGBT community. In fact, he’s pretty sure most of his neighbors don’t actually know what LGBT stands for and he’d be willing to bet that if asked, at least a solid 10% would think it’s a sandwich. So yeah, nobody knows that Dean’s spent the past six months crushing on Cas Novak, the sexy junior in his Spanish II class, and it’s damn well going to stay that way. “Hola, Señor Winchester,” murmurs a gravelly voice in Dean’s ear, straight out his dirtiest fantasies and close enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck, as Dean suppresses a shiver. The smirk on the mouth housing that goddamn sinful voice tells him that while he may have resisted the full-body shudder, his red cheeks did not go unnoticed by the boy sliding fluidly into the desk directly behind him. “Hey, Cas.” Nobody knows about Dean’s crush except for Cas, that is. Cas definitely knows.

Game of Survival | @sorajinsei

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8,317 Main Tags/Warnings: Suspense, Alternate UniverseThriller,Alternate Universe - Purge, Demonic Possession, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies Summary: Who's in the shadows? Who's ready to play? Are we the hunters? Or are we the prey? There's no surrender and there's no escape.

Talk Therapy | shara (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9,309 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, First Time Bottoming, Rimming, Communication Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, ALL the issues Summary: "Alright fine, you can put a finger in me," Dean says one night while watching Cas go down on him. Cas pops his mouth off Dean’s dick and stares at him. "I never said I wanted to put a finger in you," he says slowly, and then stops and tilts his head. "Do you want me to put a finger in you?" ~~~~ Dean comes to terms with this thing with Cas, and with himself.

Bind Me To You | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 18,184 Main Tags/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Public Blow Jobs, Mild Kink, Condoms, Mutual Pining, Switching, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Anal Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Light Bondage, One Night Stands, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, Happy Ending, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation Summary: Dean and Cas meet in a one night stand, but lust, chance and eventually more bind them together.

Tempered Desires | @mattzerella-sticks

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 20,013 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Pandemic, Baker Dean, Dean has ADHD, Recreational Drug Use, Meet Cute, First Date Summary: Dating, sex, and finding love were the farthest things on the minds of both Dean and Castiel. There were more important things to worry about - namely the pandemic that swept across the globe and changed everything. Navigating this new environment was hard enough without adding romance. But fate never intervenes when you expect. From first meetings to first dates, we'll see how Dean and Castiel's relationship blossoms despite the circumstances.

Put That On A T-Shirt | @celipuff

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 21,524 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean’s First Time With A Man, Blowjobs, Top!Dean/Bottom!Cas, Semi Public Sex Summary: Getting blindfolded and blown by a random dude his girlfriend knew didn’t exactly sound like an ideal Sunday for Dean, until it actually happened.

#destiel trope collection 2021 #day 6 #firsts #destiel #supernatural #fanfic #saving blogs; queuing things; the tumblr business

[negasonicimagines]

Love Shouldn't Hurt

trigger warnings: abuse, self-hatred, depression, and any other content warnings that come with the Deadpool franchise

request: Love love love your fics!! Can you please do one where Reader is a human and Ellie saves her from an abusive relationship and they fall in love?

notes: this was… a hard one to write. as someone who’s experienced abuse on a few different levels from a partner, you aren’t alone. you may feel like no one else would’ve loved you before, and that no one else will love you after what you’ve been through, but they will. if you’re struggling with abuse, please reach out to someone, anyone. even me, if you really don’t feel comfortable talking to someone you know. it can and will get better. things might not be okay now, but they will be. you are so loved.

i modified the request a bit, i hope that’s ok. i just adore a good best friends-to-lovers piece. sorry for the cheesy title, but i hope y'all are glad i'm semi-back. trying to write more since i'm in a better place and this is a good creative outlet for me.

synopsis: Ellie’s thrilled to return to her hometown after her senior year at Xavier’s is complete. She’s most excited to see you again. But, what happens when you aren’t the you she knows and (secretly) loves?

Ellie’s favorite part about coming home in the summer is seeing you.

Maybe that’s wrong; maybe she should be excited to see her family, or to be back in her own room, or to be away from the chaos at Xavier’s…

But it’s true.

This time, though, as you come out of your house (next door to hers, the only perk of living in suburbia is that you’re so close) you don’t skip along like you used to. Your smile is… Different.

“Hey, Ellie,” you say, and even your voice sounds different. Normally you’re grinning like an idiot, brimming with a puppy dog disposition that acts as a foil to her catlike aloofness. At the risk of sounding like a creepy teenage boy, where’s her hug?

“Are you okay?’ she blurts.

“Yeah, of course,” you laugh it off, your fake smile growing wider. You don’t wanna tell her? Odd. The two of you had drifted apart over this last school year, more than usual. It was normal for one or both of you to get carried away with your studies or other friends and forget to respond to a text every once in a while, so she hadn’t thought much of it. She knew once summer came, you two would fall right back into your routine of slumber parties nearly every night, catching up on all the crazy shit that’s happened in your lives during your time apart and making some more crazy shit happen together.

“...Okay,” Ellie decides to respond. Your phone vibrates, and you flinch, instantly pulling it out and quickly texting back. Your fingers are like lightning. You quickly lock your phone and slip it back into your pocket.

“How’ve you been?” you ask her. “How are things with Yukio?”

“Oh, we broke up almost as soon as we started fucking dating. Thought we’d work out as more, but decided pretty quickly that we were better off as just friends. Our future plans didn’t really line up, among other things. Other than that, I’ve been pretty good.”

“That makes sense,” you say, but you sound even more tense. “Uh, if we happen to run into Vivien, can you not tell her that? She’s the jealous type, and she knows we’re close, so…”

Ellie feels an odd twinge at that, more than just jealousy. Her mom always told her she had good intuition, so she presses further.

“How are things with you two?” she wonders.

“Oh, just great! She really is the best, words aren’t enough to describe it,” you answer enthusiastically, but it still feels so… Off. Maybe it is just jealousy making Ellie feel awkward. Envy was always her worst sin, coveting what she can’t; what she shouldn’t have. You’re her best friend, you always have been. It would probably end like it did with Yukio, burning fast and bright, but once the initial excitement is over… It’s over.

“That’s awesome,” Ellie says. “So, what were you thinking of doing today?”

“Oh, uh, whatever you want is fine,” you chirp.

“Breadstix?”

“They don’t have a lot of vegan options,” you remind her.

“You like it, though. I’ll cope.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts,’” she insists. “I don’t know why you like that place so much, the breadsticks they’re named for are pure shit, but I’ll just cope and get a salad.”

“Last time you ordered it, they put cheese on it, even though-”

“I remember. I’ll just send it back again, it’s not a big deal,” she insists once more. “Why are you arguing so much? It’s your favorite local place that isn’t fast food.”

You sigh.

“Fine, let’s go,” you cave, letting her pull you along to her car. You sit in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt as she starts it. She buckles her own, passing you her phone. You look at it as if it’s a foreign object.

“You always pick the music. What’s with you?”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t like making all the decisions all of the time?” you bite back.

Ellie stammers, not sure how to respond.

“Hangry, huh?” She decides that must be the reason for your change in attitude. It’s already eleven, and you’re an earlier bird than she is. You likely skipped breakfast knowing the two of you would be eating when you hung out. She takes her phone back and just picks one of your playlists on Spotify.

You’re quiet on the short drive there, and it makes Ellie feel even more uneasy. Your chatter-- which she usually pretends is meaningless to her --is sorely missed.

You’re texting again, intently focused on the screen as if the task is difficult.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I said that I’m fine,” you quickly answer, locking your phone again and tucking it back in your pocket.

“I’ll drop it for now, but… If something was wrong, you’d tell me, right?” Ellie asks.

“Yeah, of course,” you agree, but she doesn’t feel better.

“Cool,” she replies, parking outside of the restaurant. The two of you get out, it’s early in the lunch rush so you’re still able to be seated pretty quickly. Your drinks arrive just as swiftly, and Ellie catches you texting with that determined expression on your face again. “Seriously. What’s going on?”

“Just Vivien. She wanted to hang out today, but I didn’t know that until I told her I was gonna be with you. She’s just a little disappointed.”

“Well, she can join us, I’m sure-”

“No, no, it’s really alright,” you quickly reassure her. “I- These days, I don’t really spend time with anybody but her. I’m surprised she even let me- That came out wrong, she-”

As you continue to stumble over your words, the pieces continue to fall into place for Ellie, brows knitting closer and closer together.

“Is she hurting you?” Ellie asks. Xavier’s sex education isn’t just about the mechanics, it’s a pretty progressive class. They had a whole unit on abuse. Ellie’s pretty sure she’s seeing signs of it right now.

“No, of course not! I mean, every relationship has its challenges, but-”

“She is, isn’t she? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“‘Cause I knew you’d look at me like that,” you sigh, giving up on the lie.

“Like what?”

“Like… That. So disappointed in how pathetic I turned out to be. I mean, you’re Negasonic Teenage Warhead, for fuck’s sake, I… It must be so- I-”

“Hey, hey, no, that’s not it at all. I’m disappointed in myself, I should’ve fucking known something was wrong, I mean, I did, the second you came out of your house, but before that… I should’ve checked on you more. I’m- I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault I let it get this bad. She- She’s just- When it’s good, it’s good, y’know, but- I don’t know. I love her.”

“Those PSAs are right, though. Love shouldn’t hurt.”

“It always does,” you murmur, and you give her a meaningful look. If only she knew what the meaning of it was.

“Well, it shouldn’t,” Ellie insists. You’re picking at your pasta. You usually inhale it. Ellie almost asks what’s wrong, but she knows what it is. She’s sure Vivien’s taken every opportunity to break you down. “Eat, please. Or it’ll be a waste of my money.”

“Who said that you’re paying? You don’t even like this place.”

“I said I’m paying. Making a decision so that you don’t have to make them, isn’t that what you complained about earlier?”

You sigh in defeat, eating an actual bite instead of just twirling it around on your fork.

Ellie digs into her salad, she can’t help but fondly smile at you despite the situation. She’s missed you so much.

“When are you gonna do it?” she asks.

“Do what?” you wonder, as if you’ve forgotten the context of the question.

“Leave her.”

“I can’t,” you quickly say, but Ellie still catches a fearful tremor.

“Why not?”

“There’s nobody else. I mean, yeah, you and I are still friends, but… When you reject so many offers to hang out, people stop asking. They stop talking to you altogether, eventually. And… She’s the only person who’s ever wanted me, y’know? And now she’s the only one who ever will.”

“That’s not true,” Ellie says.

“It is.”

“It’s not, I swear,” Ellie insists. “I- You’re gonna need some time to heal, after everything, but… I do.”

“You’re just saying that. There’s no way, after all these years, that you finally-“ you stop yourself.

“Finally?” Ellie asks.

“That you finally love me the way I love you.”

“You mean…? I just thought… I’ve loved you just as long, but I thought you only saw me as a friend, and I didn’t wanna ruin that. The way things went with Yukio just reinforced that- That fear.”

You nod.

“Well, I guess that settles it. You’ll- I’ll call her. I can’t do it in person, she’ll… Y’know.”

“I know,” she gently responds.

You call Vivien.

“Hey, I… I can’t do this anymore. Us.”

You flinch. Ellie can hear the sounds. The yelling. And then the crying. And then the yelling again.

“I mean it. You’re right, you can do better, so… Go do better. We’re not good for each other,” you say with a shaky sigh. “Mhm. Yeah. Okay. Yeah. I know. I know. It’s not like that. Yeah. Goodbye, Vivien.”

“I’m proud of you,” Ellie says softly, and you just scoff, rolling your eyes before you sink your teeth in your bottom lip. You cover your mouth. “Hey, hey, you’re gonna be okay.”

“Will I?”

“Yeah. I might be ‘Negasonic Teenage Warhead,’ but you’re Y/N. Twice as strong without the annoyingly long codename.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoff again, eyes watering. “I just- I just don’t know why I wasn’t good enough.”

“You’re perfect, she’s just… Some people just don’t… It’s hard to explain. I have a- He’s not my friend, I can’t believe I almost said that, thank the fuckin’ lord he didn’t hear me… I know a guy who deals with those kinds of people. He told me that most of them, they… They don’t ever change. Maybe they could, with help, but due to the ego that makes them abusive in the first place, they’re never gonna get that help. The world’s better off without them. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“That- That makes sense,” you admit. “I just wish we lived in a world where love was enough.”

“Me too,” Ellie sighs, and you take a sip of your drink. She mirrors your action, realizing that she’s actually quite thirsty. The two of you finish your brunch in a heavy silence. It feels like you both should be talking, but nothing feels right to say. That’s okay, though, Ellie’s just missed you so much. As depressing as the current mood is, there’s a bit of hope. You’ll be back to your regular self eventually; a stronger, more mature version, and Ellie will be there to shower you with the respect and affection you deserve when you’re ready.

#tw abuse #cw abuse #negasonic teenage warhead #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #ellie phimister #ellie phimister x reader #ellie phimister imagine #lesbian x reader #lesbian imagine #lesbian fanfiction #wlw x reader #wlw imagine #negasonicteenageimagines

[lord-explosion-baku]

Funhouse

Sero x Reader

You and Sero havin’ a little fun at the Summer fair.

Warnings: semi-public wall sex, cunnilingus, fluff?

A/N: I’m mourning the loss of Summer and all the fun things that go along with it. I think I really miss the fair and love Hanta Sero, so...here’s smth. (18+)

The determined look on your face is heart-wrenching. With your brows drawn down, and the subtle hint of tongue peeking out of your lips as you aim your water gun at the target, it’s no surprise that Sero can’t concentrate on the task at hand. He’s already won so many other fair games—he has you, the loser, toting around that giant teddy bear (the one he plans on letting you keep) to prove it—so he thinks he might let you best him. Just this once.

When the bell goes off, crowning you as the game’s victor, you squeal and cheer, bouncing into Sero’s waiting embrace. This game is easy enough, so the prizes aren’t that big, but you’re ecstatic when you get to choose one for yourself: a little leather choker with a mock-silver flower pendant.

“That’ll look cute on you,” Sero is quick to say. He’s been taking any opportunity to compliment you—so long as it’s not creepy—to make it so his intentions are clear; although, he’s not too sure you’ve picked up on any of his hints. Yet. He doesn’t want to be too obvious or pushy, either, even if there is a carnal monster deep inside of him that demands he acts differently. If you don’t vibe with him in the way he really wants you to, he’d still like to keep you as a good friend, even if it burns him, and leaves that monster starving.

“On me?” You laugh. “Definitely! But I wanna know how it’ll look on you!”

You turn to face him, grinning mischievously, choker-necklace weapon in hand. You bite your lip and look at him expectedly. He rolls his eyes and yields, dipping down so you can reach him. You thrust the bear into his hands so you can do your worst.  

“It’s only fair,” he says as you wrap the choker around his neck. He hears when you clasp it at his nape, and fights the goosebumps that try to run down his arms. “You’re carrying my prize, after all.”

Even though you have the necklace clasped, your touch lingers, as if you’re pretending to struggle to get it on. Gentle fingers brush against his sensitive skin and Sero wonders if it’s intentional—if you know that your touch scorches him, and whether you know that you’re torturing him or not. As much fun as he’s having with you, you've got him wrapped around your little finger. He’s smitten—captivated and enslaved by that devilish glint in your eyes when you say you want to play another game—when you tell him he’s going down, and even though you haven’t beat him until now, your good mood never falters. You skip around in your summer dress, laughing about clowns or rides or lights, and Sero’s world ends where you begin.

He’d originally thought that taking you to the fair could’ve been a simple friend-date—it wouldn’t be any different if he’d invited Kirishima or Kaminari, but deep down he knows that had been a foolish gamble. Neither Denki nor Ei make his heart skip like you do. Now that the two of you are alone, he can’t ignore the spell you’ve got him under. He’s been wrong before, but this proves to be a monumental screw up.

Your bright smile lights up Sero’s world when you give him an approving look, proud of your work. The choker is snug around his neck, and you loop a finger around it, giving it a tug to test its durability.

“Pretty,” you say wryly, a charming tilt to your smile.

“I prefer devilishly handsome, but I’ll accept pretty.”

“Oho, somebody’s full of themselves.” You laugh and push on his chest, stepping away from him. “Let me make room for your giant ego.”

“Hey, now, I’ve earned my giant ego, thank you very much!” Sero pushes the bear back into your hands and tugs on its ears. “This just proves I rule this fair, and you’re nothing more than a serf in the kingdom of Hanta Sero.”

You grab his hand, lift it up, and twirl yourself underneath him, giant bear dancing with you. “Well, I’ve got spirit. And plenty more games I’m sure I can beat you at.”

“Ohoho spirit? That’s just what losers say to make themselves feel better.”

“Losers?!” You bark out, smile widening. “You sound like Bakugou!”

Sero’s mouth falls open, showing mock-indignity. “You wound me!”

“That’s just what happens when your ego inflates! A simple prick of a needle and-“ You and make a motion with your hands, miming a balloon, then blow a raspberry as you drive an imaginary needle through it. Sero blows a raspberry right back, and you use the opportunity to shove the bear in his face.

Hands free, you dance around him in search of another game you might be able to beat him at. The two of you have already gone on all the best rides, shared a funnel cake, and have blown through plenty of cash competing with each other, but it’s obvious that you’re not satisfied yet.

You eye the funhouse, and look at Sero conspiratorially. Usually that place is reserved for younger fair patrons, but now that the sun is down, and most kids have tired out due to their sugar highs, the funhouse is left ignored.

There’s that familiar glint in your eyes, and Sero knows you’re scheming something.

“What are you thinking?” Sero asks, walking towards you. He tries pushing the bear back into your arms, but you’re quick to dodge him, ducking closer to the funhouse.

“Well,” you say, roguish. Sero steps closer to you, and you bounce away, intent on leaving the bear in his arms. “I’m willing to admit that you rule the fair, if-“ you step up on the funhouse stairs, hands on the railings, blocking the path. You swing down, leveling your face with Sero’s. Your breath is cool and tauntingly sweet. He wants to taste it. He wants to taste you.

“If?” Sero prompts, swallowing thickly. He watches you lick some residual sugar off your lips, and the need to assist you with that is overbearing.

“If you can catch me in under two minutes.” You swing away, always so close, yet unobtainable. For a moment your dress flutters up, and he catches a glimpse of your blue, cotton panties. He felt bad when he saw them earlier while you climbed out of a ride, but now he kinda thinks you want him to see them. The organ inside Sero’s chest thuds at the challenge, and his carnal monster roars in agreement.

“I’ll only need a minute,” he whispers as you lean forward again, eyes darkened with allure. There’s no way you don’t know you’re teasing him now. The look on your face is borderline devious.

“You’ll have to do it with the bear, in under a minute, then. If you can’t catch me before the time is up, you have to carry him for the rest of the night.”

“And when I do catch you in under a minute?” Sero asks, fully aware that he’s being overconfident. It only makes sense, since he’s gotta throw his giant ego around tonight.

“You’ll earn my utmost respect—maybe a prize, too, if the ruler of the fair knows how to ask for it.” The grin you offer him is potent—a blow that taunts the urge to wrap his arms around you and steal the dare away from your lips. “I’ll even call you King Sero, or my liege—whatever gets your blood pumpin’.”

“What kinda prize?” Sero rasps, as you toy with the choker around his neck. You pull on it, yanking him closer. He can smell your shampoo while your lips press against the shell of his ear. It’s as if you’re going to whisper a secret, but instead, you move to kiss his cheek.

“It’s a secret,” you whisper-laugh, once again leaning away and backing up the stairs. Again, he catches your dress swaying up, and he knows he needs to catch you. “Gimme a ten second head start.”

Cheeks burning, Sero takes a step up the stairs. “No way.”

“Five seconds!” You call, giddily rushing through the first part of the funhouse. You disappear through a thrum of inflatable clowns, and Sero’s chest aches with the partial promise of your secret prize.

“No way!” He yells, taking off after you. He’s immediately bombarded with bright colors of yellows, reds, and purples—clowns hitting him in the face, and your answering giggles. He uses the giant bear as a sort of shield to push through the plastic crowd, only to find himself in a new room, full of dozens of you, and dozens of him.

Sero bonks his head on a mirror and sees about ten of you, clutching your stomach in delight while he tries to make it through the maze. You tease him with a song, matching the tune of the carnival music echoing through the funhouse, and he follows the sound of your pretty voice, extending his hands out to make sure not to hit his head again. He knows he’s almost out when all of your reflections disappear, along with your song.

The next room is just a long hall with a trampoline. You’re nowhere to be seen, so Sero doesn’t even spare a second to jump around like he normally would. He charges forward, only to hear you laughing from somewhere behind him. He turns to see a little divot in the wall—a room he wouldn’t be able to see from from the angle he first entered. Through the hidden doorway, Sero finds himself in a room lit up with pink and red lights. The carnival music is louder here than any other place due to the speaker drilled into the wall. The room is empty, besides the pair of blue cotton panties on the floor, and you with your back and hands pressed against the farthest wall.

“You found mee,” you sing with a flirty lilt in your voice. There’s a strain in Sero’s jeans from knowing that you’re standing there, stark underneath that summer dress, waiting for him.

Sero drops the bear and walks towards you. “In under a minute?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I was hoping you’d be counting, big guy.”

“I was—definitely.” Sero experimentally presses both of his hands into your sides. You hum and shift your hips so your pelvic bone presses against the bulge in his pants. Longing lodges in Sero’s throat while your arms move around his neck.

“So did you win?”

Sero’s laugh is forced through his tight windpipes. You’re playing with the hairs in the back of his head, practically begging him to kiss you. He knows you’re waiting for him to make a move, but if he’s being honest—

“Well, y’know, I hit my head on a glass pane, and had to start over—“

“Pffft! You’re such a dork!” You move your hands to his chest. He catches them, and slides them behind you, against the wall. Your breath catches when he drops his head down to yours.

“You like it,” he whispers as he grazes his nose against yours, right before your lips touch. His hovers over yours for only a moment—a couple seconds to really feel your anticipation, until he’s on you, and everything is right.

Your kiss is soft and tastes like funnel cake—potent and addictive. He slides his hands back down to your neck and cups your jaw, pulling you into a deeper kiss. His tongue pushes between your two soft pillows, tasting you, savoring your heady flavor. As satisfying as it is to finally kiss you, he knows it’s not enough. He pulls away only to trail more kisses down the hollow of your neck. “What was my prize again?”

Your answering laugh is breathy, as if you’re not expecting it. You clasp on to Sero’s shirt while he runs a hand up your thigh, lifting your dress. His kisses travel lower and lower, from your chest, to your stomach, until he’s on his knees, hands on your pert ass, and the light material of your dress shrouds him. This way, he can see your beautiful body, from the curve of your breasts, to the soft tuft of hair at your pubic bone. He tongue toys with your entrance, enjoying the little shudder you give him right before he sucks on your clit.

“Ohh,” you sigh, lifting your leg over his shoulder. “I thought you were supposed to get a prize.”

“Mhmm,” he groans into you, noting the way your body shakes with the vibration of his voice. He gives your sensitive flesh little kitten licks, while he slides two digits into your rousing heat. You moan, loud enough to be heard over the music, and Sero loves it. He wants to hear more of it—to know just how good he can make you feel.

While he traces circles around your clit, his fingers curl inside of you, pushing against the soft pads of your inner walls, coaxing out your pleasure. When your back arches, he props you up so now both of your legs are around his shoulders, and he’s holding you up with his own strength, and the supporting wall. He moans whenever you do, knowing when he’s got you, and wanting to enhance all the sensations he’s making you feel.

He picks up the pace, lapping at you until your voice breaks and you contract over his fingers. The sounds you make are far too pretty to end so soon, so even when he knows you’re at your peak, he doesn’t stop until you’re panting obscenities, and your legs quiver around him.

When you’re finally done twitching, Sero eases your legs off of his shoulders, only to have you stumble and fall back. Before you can catch yourself on the wall, Sero wraps an arm around your waist, catching you against his body.

“My god, Sero.” You breathe, kneading your fingers into his shirt. You pull on it, peeking at his deep v-line, and bite your lip.

He smirks in I-know-you-want-me.

“So, about my prize?” Sero prompts with a raise of a brow, the carnal monster’s tail wagging. “Thought you were gonna call my my liege or somethin’.”

“Oh? Is that all you want?” You begin undoing his belt-buckle, caging him in with a seductive stare. Zippers drop and you treacherous fingers move into his jeans, cupping him through his boxers like you already own it. In a way, you do—Sero’s been a fucking simp for you since day one—but you don’t have to know that. Not when the ball is in his court. “I thought you’d like something a little more than that, but-“

With the power of all the gods that have cursed Sero’s name, you remove your hand from his pants. There’s a pounding ache, both in his chest, and his seriously angry erection, and he no longer thinks and just does. Rather, that carnal monster completely takes over. He’s grabbing you—anywhere he can get his hands on. He trips over himself trying to get more of you—he needs to grab your curves, he needs to know what makes you gasp, he needs to feel you everywhere. You’re pushed back up against the wall, legs up, beautifully wet core exposed. He loses his pants, and you, sweet, hot, and slick, are sliding onto his cock.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” Sero murmurs at the same time your mouth falls open, taking in his length.your legs curl around his hips and he can tell by your warbling pleas that he’s stretching you. That only goads him into pulling out and slamming back into you.

You yip, head thrown back in surprised bliss and Sero has to curse again, because shit, he always thought that you’d feel good, but he never anticipated how well you’d hug him. It’s like you’re made for him, and he genuinely has to stop himself from saying something dumb like thank you, and instead continue his thrusting.

“God, Sero, y-you’re-“ You’re panting, brows furrowed, clinging onto him for dear life as he grooves against you with a delightfully hip-tingling pace- “s-so deep!”

“Tell me it feels good, baby,” Sero grunts through his teeth. “Tell me you like this cock.”

“Yessssero, you feel s-so—aaahhh-“ You’re cut off when Sero assaults your neck, licking your soft skin, before sinking his teeth into you. You mewl, and he feels you tighten around his dick. He groans, low and animalistic, sucking on you harshly, knowing he’ll leave a mark, and reveling in the fact that it’ll look so pretty on you. “You look so hot with that stupid fucking choker. I-! God, I’ve been wanting to do this all night!”

“Hah!” He can’t help but laugh. Even when he’s so far gone, and you feel like that, wrapped around his cock, snug and intoxicating, you’re still so fucking cute. Not just hot—you’re such a dork, it’s no wonder you make him crazy. He meaningfully wraps an arm around your waist to draw you in closer, chuckling against your skin, thinking about all the cute shit you’ve done today.

“Hhharder.” Your voice is laced with need while you knot a fist in Sero’s hair, snapping him back into this fantastic fucking moment. He’s not sure if you want him to bite you harder or fuck you harder, but he sure as well is gonna find out. “Please, Sero! More! More!”

He grunts and slaps his palms to each of your ass cheeks, gripping desperately as he pulls you deeper onto him, fucking you faster. You’re practically bouncing on his dick by the time he finds a nice, albeit furious, rhythm, wailing in ecstasy. You’re hissing the word, “yes,” over and over, and he can feel himself start to lose control.

He lets one of your legs touch the ground, so he has a free hand to rub at your swollen clit. His tongue finds yours, and your moans mute out by his sloppy, eager kiss. His fingers draw quick circles around you, while he slows his pace, feeling for that peak.

“You gonna come for me, babe?” Sero seethes against your lips. “Squeeze my cock with your hot little cunt? That’s all I really want for my prize, y’know. Think you can do that for me?”

“Just a little more.” You breath shakes as your nails dig into his arms. “Don’t stop fucking me, Sero. I need you.”

Sero grinds his hips into yours, his tip pushing up against that sweet, velvety cushion inside of you. “Like this, hon?”

“Y-yeah, that-! Just like that! I’m-!” He feels it then. You surge, pussy spasming  around him. You make a sort of long whimpering sound and melt into him, clutching the lapels of his shirt, and pulling him into a kiss. He finds himself quickly growing addicted to the taste of your lips, and it distracts him from his own oncoming orgasm. It’s too late for him to pull out, so he chokes on a groan, and let's go. He spills himself into you, coating your fluttering walls with white, hot seed.

“Oh, fuck.” He laughs breathlessly. He holds you still, but he can already feel himself spilling out of you. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“No?!” You ask, half-incredulous, half-amused.

He’s happy to see you’re in good spirits, but when you moan a tiny bit when he pulls out, his half-erect dick does a little jerk. Inwardly, Sero scolds that carnal monster, and quickly uses your briefs to clean up the mess. He peeks at you apologetically, then pockets your soiled panties.

“That’s kinda pervy,” you say, coy, but your smile is as bright as ever.

“I mean, if you wanna carry around cum-covered underwear, be my guest.” He moves to grab them again, but instead, you lace your fingers with his.

“No, no! You did good!”

Sero lifts a brow. “Just good?” That carnal monster huffs. “If you’d like to go again, just be to sure-“

“No, that was something else!” You chuckle, grin widening. “Like, wow. We should’ve started doing that months ago. Who knew all I had to do to get you to fuck me was drop my panties to the floor?”

Sero snickers. “If I knew you wanted me to fuck you, you could waggle a finger at me, and I’d come a-running.”

“That so?” You let go of his hand, and bounce back to the room’s entrance. You cast a look over a shoulder at him, do a little beckoning motion with your finger, and disappear.

The carnal monster barks at his feet to get a move on. Sero makes a mental note to bring you to the fair every chance he gets. He takes off, chasing you through the funhouse, following the sound of your beautiful laughter.

#hanta sero x reader #sero x reader #hanta x #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha reader insert #reader insert #x reader

[stars-falling]

late night at the local convenience store (elriel)

summary: elain, desperate for snacks, visits her local store late at night and bumps into her supposed rival (and he's hot).

prompt: esteemed rival chefs find each other shamefully buying ramen at 3 in the morning AU

word count: 1985

note: welcome to the first july upload! this piece was written for a writing month challenge and i had great fun with it! i'm really excited for the other pieces i'll be posting over the next month. i hope you enjoy them as much as i enjoyed writing them! i'll continue working on other pieces over the month too, so there will be more coming after july (hopefully i can finally finish part 2 of both a storm and a summer's day).

in the meantime, hope you enjoy!

lily (tysm for 760 followers btw! love you all <3)

read here on ao3 // masterlist

*******************************

Archeron’s Kitchen was the most popular restaurant in Velaris. It had the best food, the best drinks, the best atmosphere, and Elain had never been more proud to say that she was the Head Chef. It had taken years of hard work from both her and her two sisters to reach the level they were at now and they only continued to grow. The sisters worked closely together: Nesta (the eldest) directed the finance and other admin, Feyre (the youngest) worked on the design aspects and managed the staff and Elain manned the menus and the actual cooking. They worked well together, with only minor disagreements happening occasionally, and soon they had rocketed to the most well known and sought after restaurant in Velaris.

This was why she was contemplating her life choices as she pulled up to the local convenience store to buy ramen at 3 am. It wasn’t even the nice ramen; it was the crappy 50p packet of ramen that took less than a minute to cook. She often tried to utilise her skills to cook herself the healthiest and tastiest meals but recently she had been working overtime due to another restaurant's rising popularity. The two staff had even formed some sort of rivalry, trash-talking each other in the streets and slandering the other restaurant to their patrons. She found it childish, so Elain didn’t partake, but she did find it mildly amusing. The new restaurant was several streets over and it was the opposite of Archeron’s Kitchen in every way. Where they were warm and cosy, Starfall was sleek and modern. Where they focused on comfort foods, Starfall served new and innovative dishes. People went to the Archeron’s for the food, whereas people went to Starfall for the experience. And where the Archeron’s Kitchen was run by three sisters, Starfall was run by three brothers.

She had never actually met them. She knew their names and what they looked like but in terms of interactions she had only caught a glimpse of two of them once before. They had stood in the main square with Feyre and Nesta arguing about the importance of serving classic food. Her sisters had both come away grumbling about ‘upstart assholes with no sense of tradition’. As far as Elain was aware, the two brothers they had argued with weren’t actually in charge of the menu, making her unsure if they had full authority over the subject, but she didn’t want to start them off again so she refrained from mentioning it.

Elain pulled into an empty parking space and took a moment to lay her head against the headrest and close her eyes. She was tired and hungry. There was no food in the fridge, her bank account was looking quite sorry for itself and she still had more menus to plan and ideas for new dishes to brainstorm. Steeling herself, she hauled herself out of the car and locked it as she walked to the bright light of the store. She pulled the hood of the tattered sweatshirt she wore over her head as a precaution against recognition. With the status of a semi-famous chef, she didn’t want anyone to see her in the somewhat pitiful state she was in. The bell rang as she pushed open the door, signalling her entrance. The bright flickering lights and cool temperature made it feel like she was entering a separate dimension, one that lacked all sense of time and direction. Elain nodded at the cashier as she walked past them, making a beeline to the snacks aisle. She was greeted by a wide range of ramen, the different flavours and prices making it difficult to choose. She had about £1.50 in her purse and she desperately wanted a coffee too so she would have to be frugal. She was so engrossed with her ramen selection that she failed to notice a person coming up beside her. When she swivelled around to check the time on the obscenely large digital clock above the checkout, she crashed into them hard, causing her, them and the copious amounts of ramen they had piled in their arms to go flying to the floor.

Elain let out a yelp as she landed hard on her tailbone and felt her face heat up.

“I am so sorry!”

A deep, warm chuckle floated toward her and her head snapped up to look at its source. She found hazel eyes staring back. A large man with tan skin and dark hair sat in front of her, surrounded by many colourful packets of ramen. Her heart fluttered slightly as he smiled at her. He was handsome, even in this shitty convenience store lighting at 3 am dressed in similar attire to her.

“Don’t worry about it. I should have been paying more attention. Are you okay?”

She nodded before sitting up fully and helped to gather the ramen that lay around them. He smiled at her gratefully and they sat in content if not slightly awkward silence as they pulled the packets into a pile before finally rising. As she looked closer at him, a spark of recognition kindled within her.

“Do I know you?”

He looked at her curiously, tilting his head.

“I’m not sure but you do look familiar.”

They stood analysing each other. Normally the staring would make her uncomfortable, but with him, she found it didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should have. This went on for about a minute before she saw realisation set into his eyes.

“You’re Elain Archeron. The Head Chef for Archeron’s Kitchen. Why are you buying shitty ramen at 3 am? Shouldn’t you have made yourself a three-course meal by now?”

Elain felt something drop inside her. She hadn’t noticed that her hood had fallen off when she fell, exposing her and her shameful ramen buying to the whole world. But as he laughed softly, she remembered where she recognised him from.

She scowled at him as she said, “ Well you’re Azriel Knight, Starfall’s Head Chef, so you can’t exactly talk.”

She gestured to the stack of ramen that she had just helped pile into his arms. He turned away slightly as if to hide them.

“My stash had run out, okay. I need it to keep me going when I stay up late planning dishes.”

“I get that. That’s why I’m here right now.” She replied and a mutual understanding passed between them.

Elain knew she shouldn’t be talking to him right now, the reminders of the supposed rivalry between the two restaurants loomed like a shadow behind her. But the longer they spent together, the more she found herself not caring.

“I feel like we should be arguing,” He told her. “If my brothers were here, they would have been kicked out for yelling by now.”

She smiled, “Same for my sisters. But I’ve never really cared to be honest. I just want to focus on the food, not a silly competition that people seem to be taking too seriously.”

He nodded in agreement and they both began to walk to the cashier.

“So, what kind of dishes are you planning then?” She asked. “I promise I won’t steal any ideas. It’s not my style anyway.”

“I”m not a hundred percent sure on the actual contents of the dish right now, but I’m currently trying to create a more experimental menu. We recently unveiled a new line of drinks that have a more theatrical element to them. Colour changing, dry ice, bubbling, the whole shebang and I wanted to design a food menu that went along with that.”

He turned away from her to pay the cashier, giving her a moment to turn over his words in her head. She’d gotten a glimpse at some of the drinks and food from when she had taken a look at (read: stalked) their website and various social media sites. She had called it ‘scouting out the competition' when really she was curious to see what had set them apart enough for them to have such a rise in patronage. Whilst it wasn’t her style, she had always thought that she’d like to visit them and try what they had to offer. That was until the stupid rivalry had started and just walking by the restaurant was asking for trouble. Azriel finished paying and grabbed the plastic bag the cashier had placed his ramen in, moving out of the way so she could step up to the counter.

“That sounds amazing!” She replied. ‘I admit, I’ve always wanted to try some of your food but unfortunately, my sister’s might disown me if I even mention it. Calling them over-competitive would be the understatement of the century.”

He laughed at this and she took the opportunity to turn away and press the 50p coin into the cashier's hand. They nodded at her, satisfied and she turned back to Azriel. Together, they walked out of the door and into the cool night.

“I’d say you should stop by, but as you said, our siblings may not be too happy about that.” He let out a sigh. “As much as it amused me at first, I do wish we could just get along. I’d like to come and try some of your food too.”

He swivelled towards her, the white light from the store casting his face into shadows.

“I hope this isn’t too forward of me, but would you like to grab some coffee?”

She smiled at him, shoving the packet of ramen into her hoodie pocket.

“I’d love to. And maybe in the future, we could make some of our food for each other.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Like a date?”

She felt dread trickle in. Maybe she had misread the situation. They seemed to have been getting on well, and she had caught him checking her out when they first bumped into each other. Plus, he had just asked her to grab coffee with him. Perhaps he was just being friendly.

She swallowed anxiously before replying, “Yeah. If that’s something you’d be interested in.”

He smiled at her brightly, making her heart stutter and skip a beat.

“I’d like that.”

They stood under the streetlamps in an almost abandoned parking lot. Two head chef’s from popular restaurants with bad ramen and a budding connection between them.

“What are you feeling? Starbucks or maybe that local coffee shop down the street? I think it’s called Veritas?”

Elain hummed as they started walking along the road.

“Veritas, I think. I can get a cup of tea for a pound.” She reached into her pocket to show him her single coin.

For the second time that evening (or was it morning?), he raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought I was buying?”

She glanced at him in confusion. “Since when?”

“I thought since I had asked you it was implied?”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “My god, we are bad at this. I think we need to get out of the kitchen more.”

“I’m not sure about that, I’ve got plenty of pick up lines I've stolen from my chefs.” He stepped in front of her, stopping her in her path. “Baby, you’re the crème to my brûlée.”

She groaned, hitting him on the arm as she pushed past him. “That was so bad! I might leave.”

“As if you could do better.”

She pulled out her phone, searching up ‘chef pick up lines’. She grimaced, “These are all so sexual! I think it might be best if we keep flirting out of the kitchen.”

They both doubled over in fits of laughter before continuing down the street. She was glad she gave in to her cravings and went to buy ramen at 3 am. She could tell that whatever this was, it was going to turn into something great.

*******************************

taglist + others who might be interested!

@amusedowl @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @akb12348 @illyrian-bookworm @actuallyacotartrash @thesirenwashere @julesherondalex @queen-of-glass @verifiefangirl @rhysanoodle @sadbitchlorcan @thefangirlofhp @abraxos-is-toothless @elrielllll @b00kworm @maastrash @rosssas @illyrianbeauty @nightcourtcinnamonroll @ireallyshouldsleeprn @tswaney17 @secretbondsandloveconfessions @sleeping-and-books @thewayshedreamed @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @the-laughing-bubble @123moiaussi

let me know if you would like to be added/removed from my tag list!

#lily writes #late night at the local convenience store #my writing #elriel #elain archeron #azriel acotar #Azriel #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar fanfic #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #Rhysand #cassian #au #chef au #restaurant au #July upload #stars falling original

[heauxzenji]

I just came across you nsfw with Osamu and I really enjoyed it I was wondering if You could do one for Kita?

Hi love! This is for u 💕 and all the kita fuckers worldwide- myself included bc I’m in love with him now 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - Kita Shinsuke

Nsfw below da cut g

gn!reader focus in this hoe

A/n: ty @honey-makki for being my partner in degeneracy and my wife ilysm bc she can read when I can’t

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Will feed you a full meal. His way of making sure you’re cared for is keeping you well fed. He will cuddle you and spoon feed you himself if he has to, as long as you eat every single bite. He has a routine for everything, aftercare is no exception. He runs you a bath, then, while you soak, he cooks. Will make sure to throw a hoodie in the dryer before heading to the kitchen so it'll be warm for you post shower. Then he feeds you and holds you, playing with your hair or your hands until you fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

You already know what the fuck is going onnnn! Kita is honestly so well sculpted that it really doesn’t matter but let’s talk about his back/shoulders. He’s so mf broad and it's very sexc of him. He’s also very fond of when you cling onto and scratch it up…. delicious

He loves your hands. He loves to hold them, especially when he’s looking straight into your eyes as he drills the hell out of you- he’ll lift one up and kiss it bc ✨romance✨

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Oh he’s going to fill you so full of cum that it pours out of your ears. He has a big breeding kink, and huge loads to match. But he’s also very healthy and takes good care of himself so his cum isn’t bad on your tongue on the off chance he hasn’t already cum inside you 600 times prior to finally doing so in your mouth. And he’s going to kiss you after- very sexc of him.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Lost his virginity in a barn. Got a tick on his ass of all places. The barn isn’t the secret tho... the tick is.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

When you got together- he was definitely a virgin. Had only gone as far as MAYBE second base. But you used that to your advantage, because you’ve essentially built him up and trained him to be PERFECT for you. You also helped him find out what he likes and what makes him feel good too. Sure there was a lil’ corruption involved, but in the end you’re both very happy with your sex life.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full on mf wrestling mating press. He’s going to have his cock so deep inside of you that if he even pushed a bit more his body is gonna go in too. Then he’ll just live there. He’s fine with that.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Unintentionally so. Every once in a while, you’ll both giggle or laugh because you have to reposition when you start to cramp up or you accidentally hit him in the face when tying to pull him closer or something. But he’s a firm believer in the whole “if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with you shouldn’t have sex with them” addage, so he’s very grateful for those light moments.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It could definitely be neater. He isn’t abysmal, but he is hairy and could stand to trim a tiiiny bit more often. He’s just very low maintenance down there. As long as it’s clean he's good, which is both true and a decent place to start but pls tell him to get a little off the top of you know what I mean.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈y

He’s! So! Loving! He’s always going to go the extra mile to make you feel special. He likes to keep things on the softer side I’d say 8/10 times. He prefers to make love instead of just fucking it out- but if you get into an argument or he’s frustrated, he will happily go hard… but still with candles and a massage. Also I said it already but he’s gonna hold your hands while he demolishes you- interlaced fingers and all that cute shit even tho you’re getting railed.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

His grandma is one of those old ladies that’s like “don’t do that you’ll go blind,” so poor baby was a lil pent up before he got older. Now, he still doesn't do it often, but he does it once a month or so as part of his routine. He uses coconut oil because he likes the smell and that it melts easily.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Breeding, listen it’s just embedded in country boys to fuck and fill. He is no exception.

Spanking, moreso as a way to direct you. Moving too much? slap to stay still. Changing positions? Slap to get you moving. Just wants to see you jiggle? Yeah that too. Motivational slaps also come into play when he wants you to know you’re doing a good job.

Auralism, He LOVES to hear you. The sound of your breath, your moans, the way you chant his name when you’re close… he eats that shit up. It feeds his ego and boosts his pride. He also makes a lot of noise himself, mostly really deep moans but there’s a sprinkling of praise throughout too.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He needs privacy. So he’s definitely one to want to keep it at home or at least somewhere secluded and away, where he knows only you and him are there and will know about it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He doesn’t care how he does it, but his number one priority, is making sure that you cum. Kita is a giver. And he will make sure to give you whatever you want from him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into SUPER rough stuff. He’s not vanilla, but he is the kind of guy that sees sex as “lovemaking” so he’s not gonna punch you in the face or throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s just not his style. Of course if it's what you want, he will… but never expect him to ever bring it up or do so on his own.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Ok so- he's… teachable. I’m not gonna lie, he would start off as absolute trash. But the good thing about him is how adaptable he is, and how willing he is to learn. You’d have to have him work at it a lot but once he gets good he’s great. He’ll love the feeling of accomplishment he gets from you getting off with only his mouth- it does wonders for his pride.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s very even- until he starts to get close. When he’s close he’s going to speed up so much that you have to brace yourself against anything that’ll hold you. He is definitely a headboard grabber too.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He likes to take his time with you. For that reason, he isn’t a huge fan. You would really have to convince him that it's worth it. He doesn’t see the point in instant gratification, and thinks you should be patient. Good things come to those who wait and all that Kita stop being so stoic and rail me at the farmers market challenge

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Lmfao you think this mans is really gonna go for a public or semi-public scene? Think again. Now, he’s into sex outdoors sure, but only in your fenced in, enclosed backyard. He’s not letting anyone see you point blank periodt, you’re for his eyes only.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Excellent self control. He can hold off on cumming for as long as you need him to. Usually he’ll tap out himself after you’ve gotten through at least 3 of your own highs- but his record is 6. Has a super long refractory period tho- so he does things this way to make sure you get everything you need in one go.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually likes using toys on you. He has a bunch of different plugs and vibes that he uses to suit the situation. He prefers to use a hitachi wand on you while he’s fucking you, but all the others he uses for foreplay- or after to keep you full to the brim of his cum.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

You both tease each other absentmindedly. He doesn’t know why he gets so turned on by you scrubbing the floor on all fours (that’s why), but he does. He also doesn’t understand why you think its hot when he cuts firewood in winter or wipes his forehead with his shirt during the summer. He thinks he’s gross and sweaty- but you can only think of a million other ways to make him sweatier.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Listen we stan. He’s not quiet in bed by any means, but he’s not overly loud either. He’s the type who takes deep breaths and then on the exhale let’s out a moan from deep in his chest- you know the one. And he does that shit on purpose. Not really, but he does think of it as his way of letting you know that he feels as good as you feel. Will also 100% hit you with the “is that it baby? Is that the spot?” While you’re practically turning into jello underneath him bc he absolutely knows that’s the spot he just likes to make you say it.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Wants to recreate the sex scene from tthe notebook with you. He can’t explain why, he just has an unexplainable urge to suck your face off in the rain and then proceed to raw you after peeling all the damp clothes from your body. Please oblige him.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s got the thickness. Not coke Can thickness but like… you remember the Alaskan bull worm from ep of SpongeBob? Well he’s the whole worm, not just the tongue. I’m going to hell for that reference but ya he has a nice dick. The perfect thickness and and I’ll say a pretty good 5.5-6 inches worth. It’s also very veiny on the underside which- yes I love that.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Normal sex drive, since you tend to do it at least 2 times a week. He only seems to get a little needier when you CAN’T have sex regularly- ie, one of you is sick or you’re away from each other. When that happens, he’s a little edgier than usual, can snap sometimes but not often.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s the type to get a second wind after. He’ll only go to sleep after he makes sure all your aftercare needs are met, and even then, he’s only going to power-nap it for maybe 10mins. He’ll stay still and cuddle you while you sleep, but he’ll most likely watch tv or scroll through his phone while you enjoy his warmth. Every once in awhile he’ll give you a kiss while you stir.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith @tsumue @disasteren @hoe4abbacchio @sillykittt @ukaisbaby

#daisy’s red light district 🚨 #haikyuu smut #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #kita haikyuu #kita x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #hq headcanons #haikyuu hc #haikyuu hcs #hq headcanon #hq writing #hq scenario #haikyuu x y/n #hq x gn!reader

[give-seconds]

I Love You

This is part two of my Jisung fic for A Vibe collab! If you haven’t read part one, here it is!

Paring: Jisung x genderneutral reader

Warnings: Death of a parent

Summary: In which you’ve been obsessed with the idea of meeting your soulmate since you were born, but your soulmate doesn’t think the same.

Word count: 19.9k

---

It’s been a month and a half since you found out Jisung was your soulmate. It took a week of Chenle’s magic counseling (his words, not yours) until you were able to stop avoiding him and Jaemin. Chenle made you realize that even if they had something now, Jisung was your soulmate. The more you got to know each other, the easier it would be for you two in the future. No matter how far away that future is.

After that week, you had to slowly condition yourself to be around them. It wasn’t easy at first, and it took you a few days to be able to look Jaemin in the eyes. Even though it took a month for you to be semi-normal with them again, they never pushed you to spend time with them. Of course, they still made offers for you to join for certain activities, and Jaemin made sure to let you know you didn’t have to do anything you weren’t comfortable doing.

In short, you quickly realized what Jisung saw in him. If you didn’t know who your soulmate was, you might have wished he were your soulmate.

“If you were to give someone an ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so weird lately, but thanks for being so understanding’ gift, what would you give them?” you ask into the phone.

“I don’t know, man. If you ask me, you don’t even need to get them anything,” Chenle answers.

“But you don’t understand,” you sigh, picking up a bar of chocolate and flipping it over to look at the back, “I’ve been so distant from them. They’re my only friends here, and I’m thankful they didn’t drop me after I left during that first lunch. I mean, I ghosted them for like a week or two. If I were them, I would’ve dropped me.”

“Okay, okay, I get your point. Get them a flower or just a card. Oh, offer to buy them lunch.”

“I already got them lunch, but I want to give them something more. So maybe a plant or something?”

“Unless you don’t like plants.”

“Why would you say that?” you laugh, stepping to the side of the aisle to try and stand more out of the way.

“I don’t know! Just buy them a fake one. That way, if they like plants, they can have one that looks like one. If they don’t like them, then they don’t have to worry about keeping it alive.”

“Have I ever told you how useless you are in these situations?”

“What can I say? I’ve never been in this situation before. So you have fun, and I’m going to enjoy sitting at home with my ice cream.”

“Completely, utterly useless.”

“If you’re done hurting my feelings,” he says, and you hear the sound of clinking as he picks a spoon from the drawer, “I have ice cream to get back to.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Fine. Abandon me, like you always do.”

He chuckles. “Finally, I can’t wait to be rid of you.”

You smile to yourself, rolling your eyes at his words. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Was that your soulmate?”

You jump, spinning around to meet the person behind you, hand held against your chest. “Why did you do that?”

Jisung smiles. “I had to let you know I was here somehow.”

“And just saying ‘hi’ was too hard?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “There’s no spark in that.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “There’s a reason Jaemin and you get along so well, and I think that’s a big part of it. But uh—” you look away from him, turning your body to look at the same bar you looked at earlier “—no, that wasn’t my soulmate. Just my best friend.”

He nods, his eyes wandering around the aisle. “You two seem close. And before you worry too much, my English isn’t good enough to follow the rest of the conversation I heard, which wasn’t much to begin with.”

You smile softly, not taking your eyes away from the chocolate. “We are. We grew up together. He’s in China now, so I don’t see him that much,” you place the bar back on the self, turning to smile at him, “but I make sure to call him often so he can’t forget me.”

It shocked you for a second, Jisung asking you if someone else was your soulmate. You forgot for a second that you are the only one between you two who knows of the connection between you two.

“Sounds about right. If Jaemin moved to another country, I think I’d do about the same thing.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“So what are you doing here?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Oh, I’m looking for a gift to give my classmate. It’s his birthday coming up, but I don’t know him that well, so I was thinking of a plant? Do you like plants?”

He tilts his head from side to side. “Eh, kind of. I like how they make a room look though; they definitely spice things up.”

“Well, how about, if you’re not busy, you come and help me pick one out? His personality kind of reminds me of a mixture of you and Jaemin.”

“Sure. I was just here looking because I’m bored, so it’s not like I’m in a rush.”

“Weird, but okay.”

“Says you!" he exclaims, following you as you leave the aisle and walk towards the plant section. "You’re here buying a plant for a guy you barely know.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

---

“Hey y/n, on Friday, Jaemin and I are going camping to celebrate the end of summer. Would you like to come with us?”

After you gave them the apology plants, Jaemin and Jisung had, of course, accepted your apology. It had turned more emotional than you thought it would, with Jisung telling you he didn’t have a lot of friends outside of you and Jaemin, and he was thankful you still wanted to stay friends. Jaemin agreed, saying he was worried they had pushed you away. He further went on to call you stupid and say you had nothing to apologize for.

“For how long are you thinking?” you ask, not looking up from the table you are wiping down.

“Just for the weekend,” Jisung answers, spinning himself on one of the stools that sat at the counter. “We’d be back Sunday night.”

You nod your head, dropping the rag back into the bucket and grabbing the spray that sat next to it. “Yeah, that sounds fun. How far out are we going?”

“It’s about three hours away. But Jaemin is going to borrow his friend’s car, so we don’t have to take a bus or anything. He’ll be our personal driver.”

You snort, shaking your head slightly as you walk into the backroom to put the cleaning supplies away. “Sounds good,” you yell.

“It’ll be fun,” he yells back so you can hear him. “We’ll all share one tent, and I'll be sure to put you in the middle so you feel safe and sound."  

“Tell me why that makes me feel more unsafe?” you ask, leaning on the counter next to him.

He shrugs, smiling innocently. “Because you have an active imagination and a low opinion of us.”

You pretend to think for a second before nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

---

“You guys will never guess what just happened,” Jaemin exclaims, drawing your attention away from the card game in front of you.

“Sounds like the walk to the main office was more exciting than I thought it would be,” you joke, placing your cards face down on the metal table.

“Yeah,” Jisung answers, placing his cards on the table opposite yours. “I thought Y/n teaching me how to play spoons would be the most eventful thing, given it is the most stressful card game I have—”

“You’re just weak. Spoons is the best game—”

“You’re a psycho.”

“Psycho!”

“I’m hijacking this conversation to bring the attention back to me,” Jaemin interrupts, taking a seat next to Jisung. “Are you ready to hear the best thing to ever happen to me?”

You smile, happy to see your friend practically vibrating from happiness. “Yes, Jaemin, don’t keep us waiting any longer.”

“Are you ready Jisung?” he asks, hugging his arm excitedly.

“Yes, yes I am,” he laughs, trying to pull his arm away.

“Okay, okay,” he takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes between you and Jisung, “I met my soulmate while at the main office.”

You immediately look over to Jisung, watching as his smile slips off his face, watching again as he forcibly puts it back on.

“That’s great, Hyung. I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, Jaemin,” you force your gaze away from Jisung to look at Jaemin, smiling softly at him, “that’s great. What are they like?”

You’re thankful Jaemin can’t see the sad look in Jisung’s eyes or hear the forced happiness. You know Jisung must be hurt, and as his friend, you can’t help but feel bad for him—even if he is your soulmate.

“She’s absolutely wonderful,” he gushes, hugging Jisung’s arm tighter. “She’s here with her friends, and she was going to the main office when I was on my way back. Up until now, I didn’t know what my mark was. But when I made eye contact with her, everything except her lost its color. She was literally the light of my life for five seconds.”

You smile, the soulmate enthusiast in you pushing away the pain you feel for Jisung. “That sounds beautiful Jaemin, congratulations.”

“Thank you y/n! Also, and if it’s okay with you two, I was going to take her to dinner tonight to get to know her better. Is that okay?”

“Of course, have fun on your date Jaemin.”

Jisung nods his head, effectively pulling his arm away from Jaemin. “Yeah, go have fun Hyung.”

Jaemin smiles widely, pulling Jisung into a hug. “Thank you both so much. I know I set out to find us a dinner place and am now leaving you, and this is our first day here, but I’ll send you a list of some nice places that are within walking distance. And if you don’t want to go out, we have food in the cooler.”

Jisung nods his head, smiling sadly. “Yeah yeah, we got it Hyung. Go have fun.”

He nods his head, smiling brightly as he stands up from the table. “Okay, thank you both so much. I’ll see you when I get back.

You wave as he jogs out of your campsite and somewhere to the left.

After Jaemin leaves, silence falls over you two. When you turn to look at Jisung, he’s staring in the direction Jaemin had run off in. Your heart breaks at the sight of his watery eyes, knowing it must feel more or less what you felt when you found out about Jisung being your soulmate.

You clear your throat, picking your cards up and combining them with the deck. “I’m not feeling very well. Are you okay if we stop playing?”

He wordlessly nods his head, not taking his eyes away from the spot. “My head is killing me; I think I’m going to go to the tent and sleep.” He turns his attention to you, weakly smiling. “Are you okay with that?”

You nod your head, smiling back at him. “Yeah, of course.”

He nods his head, a faraway look in his eyes, as he stands up from the table and makes his way to the tent.

---

Of course, this had to happen on what was meant to be a fun trip with his friends. He knew Jaemin would never love him back—that was something he had been slowly telling himself. This was too much too fast, though. He isn’t ready to lose Jaemin yet.

He pulls his knees close to his body, hugging his sleeping bag closer to him. He wants to cry, but he knows he can’t. It had taken him months to come to terms with himself and his bisexuality, but he doesn’t know if he’s ready to tell anyone else. He had gotten so used to telling Jaemin everything it felt weird that there was something more he was hiding from him.

He’s thankful you’re not questioning his sudden change in attitude. That is if you even noticed.

He squeezes his eyes shut, taking deep breaths to try and keep the tears from falling. He feels so alone, and he knows that if he just manned up and asked for help, he wouldn’t feel like this.

Taking a deep breath, he sits up enough to pull his phone out of his backpack. Laying back down, he turns on his phone and scrolls until he finds the one person he knows can make him feel better.

“Jisung-ah! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He smiles at his mom’s bright voice, and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine her face. “Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s a nice day, and I just wanted to call my mother.”

“Don’t insult my motherly skills,” she says sternly, and Jisung snorts at her response. “Now, tell me what’s wrong before I force it out of you.”

“Now, how would you do that?”

“Park Jisung, don’t change the subject.”

He sighs, the fake smile he put up to try and convey a happy attitude falling. “There’s nothing wrong, so to say, I just set myself up to get my feelings hurt and have to deal with the consequences.”

“There’s no way it’s that black and white. How did you set yourself up?”

“I—” he cuts himself off, debating what he can and can't tell her. He couldn’t tell her he fell for his best friend. She would know right away that he was talking about Jaemin. “I started to like someone who wasn’t my soulmate. Then today, she found her soulmate.”

“Oh, Jisung,” she whispers, and he can feel the sympathy in her voice.

Would she still care if she really knew who it was? The thought alone was enough to make tears fall from his eyes.

“It’ll be okay. At least the bandaid was ripped right off, right?”

“Yeah,” he sniffles. “I just wish I had more time to prepare for the bandaid to be ripped off.”

“I know my love. But you still have your soulmate out there. Maybe you’ll love her even more than this girl.”

He suppresses a scoff. He feels horrible lying to his mom like this; she’s been his best friend since he was young. Like with Jaemin, he tells her everything.

“Yeah, I’m sure I will.”

He can’t tell his mom everything, not this time at least.

---

“Can I sit?”

Jisung blinks once before turning his head to look up at you. You smile down at him, your hands held behind your back. He silently nods once before he turns his attention back to the water in front of him.

He knows he is being dramatic, but he can’t help it. The man he loves is out on a date.

“I got you this,” you say, bringing your hand out from behind your back as you sit down to hand him an ice cream bar.

He smiles weakly, taking the ice cream from your outstretched hand. “Thank you for this and for bringing the food into the tent for me. I’m sorry both of your friends aren’t being very fun after we practically dragged you on this trip.”

You shrug your shoulders, eyes trained on unwrapping the ice cream. “It’s okay. You’re not feeling very well, and on top of that, your best friend just found his soulmate. It can’t be easy.”

Jisung freezes slightly at the comment before forcing himself to unwrap the bar to make himself feel less suspicious. “Why would Hyung finding his soulmate make me feel bad?”

You smile softly, not looking away from the bar. “My best friend found his soulmate, and that was really hard on me. I mean, I knew I wasn’t the most important person in his life, but at least I was someone. And I still am someone, but I don’t matter as much as I used to. Me and him still talk almost every day, but when he first found her, after every conversation, there was this nagging thought of 'and now he goes back to his soulmate.'” You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “And maybe I’m being selfish. But at the same time, I’m used to being his go-to. And now that he has someone who can be there for him when I can’t—in more ways than one—I just felt this great sense of loss.”

Jisung nods his head, taking a bite of the bar to try and keep the tears from falling.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you continue. “I’m happy for him, and I can’t wait to meet her. I just hope that when I see her, this feeling I have of being replaced is gone.”

“Replaced. That’s a good word for it.”

You nod your head, turning your attention away from the bar and out to the water. “You know, my friend once told me something when I was talking to him about my worries. And to summarize, he told me how no one could fill my place. That Xiulan holds a place in his heart as his soulmate, a place I never had, nor could I ever fill. I don’t know if this will help you, but after about a week of sulking, that advice helped me. So it might not be okay right now, but maybe with this ice cream and some time, you’ll realize you haven’t lost him.”

Jisung silently nods his head, letting silence fall between you two. He appreciates you offering your advice, and he can’t explain how relieved he feels knowing you think he’s only sad because he lost a best friend. He’s also thankful he doesn’t have to go through this alone. He’s glad Jaemin made him befriend you.

“Thank you, y/n.”

You glance over at him, smiling softly before looking back out at the water. “Eat your ice cream before it melts.”

---

This has got to be the weirdest situation you’ve been in in a long time.

Jaemin, and his soulmate Ki, decided to have a “bonding breakfast” with her and her group of friends. So now, you and Jisung are sitting at a picnic table with her three friends while Ki and Jaemin make pancakes.

You and Jisung exchange a look as the three girls on the opposite side of the table continue to talk to each other. They had started off including you in the conversation, but they had somehow trailed off to some inside story that you and Jisung had no choice but to listen.

“So uh,” you start once you notice their conversation come to an end. “Do you guys live far from here?”

“Oh no,” Gaeun, a girl with short hair and a dazzling smile, answers. “We live like thirty minutes away. How far out are you guys?”

“We’re like three hours or so away,” you answer, nodding your head. After a few seconds of awkward smiling and eye contact, you turn around to look at Ki and Jaemin, silently wishing they would hurry up.

“So y/n, Jisung, what are your soulmate marks?” Kyungsoon, a beautiful girl who, despite the meaning of her name, was anything but mild.

“Mine is the tally mark one,” Jisung answers, and it surprises you how nonchalantly he answers.

If your past said anything, it was that, normally, this question wouldn’t bother you. In any other situation, one where your soulmate isn’t literally sitting right next to you, you would have been the first person to ask this very question.

But because your soulmate is sitting next to you, and he doesn’t know you’re soulmates, you find yourself freezing at the question.

“I-uh I don’t know mine yet,” you answer, rubbing your wrist under the table. After all, for the majority of your life, it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kyungsoon says, and you smile softly at the sincerity in her voice. “Maybe your mark is something like Ki’s, and you’ll know it when you see them.”

“Yeah, maybe. How about you guys?”

“Oh, I actually met my soulmate when I was in my last year of high school,” Kyungsoon gushes. She reminds you a lot of yourself, and given your current soulmate situation, it’s nice to see someone as romantic as yourself. “He’s the nicest man I’ve ever met. And he knows how to cook! Which, for me, is a lifesaver. I can’t cook to save my life.”

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you Kyungsoon.”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks y/n! I bet you guys will find your soulmates soon.”

Jisung laughs, drawing your attention away from the girl opposite you.

“Jisung?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes with a bitter smile. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to meet my soulmate, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to interrupt. Soulmate conversations are just hard for me to have.”

“What? What do you mean?” you ask. You’re not sure if you want to hear what he has to say; the message was pretty clear the first time around. There is still a small sliver of hope that says maybe you’ve misunderstood.

“I just don’t know if I ever want to meet my soulmate,” he repeats, shrugging before he turns to look at Kyungsoon  “That’s not to say I’m not happy for you, because I am. I’m just one of those people who doesn’t think a soulmate is for them.”

The other girls nod their heads, saying something about how they can understand that. You can hear them talking, but the only thing that processes in your head is that if Jisung found out who you are, he wouldn’t want anything to do with you.

“My parents were like that too,” Lian, a quiet girl who is by far the calmest member of their group, adds. “They met when my dad was in China studying abroad and had me a year after they graduated; despite not being married or soulmates. When I was six or so, my dad found his soulmate when he was back here on a visit. I’m not saying this to force you to find your soulmate, but just keep in mind that if you chose to live like that, nothing is certain.”

Jisung smiles softly, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Having a soulmate who values you isn't certain either.”

After his statement, a silence settles over the table. It takes everything in you not to continue to stare at him. You can feel the awkward atmosphere, and normally you would do something to try and fix it. Right now though, you can’t bring yourself to even care. All your thoughts are centered on the fact that Jisung doesn’t seem to want anything to do with you.

“Pancakes are ready!”

---

Jaemin isn’t quite sure what happened.

The breakfast had been nice. It was fun getting to know Ki and her friends better while also hanging out with his own. After they had walked back to their camp, you, Jisung, and he packed up the camp.

It is now twenty minutes into the drive, and he could tell something had happened. On the drive here, you and Jisung had fought over the passenger seat. The car ride had been filled with conversation, and he thought the drive had passed relatively quickly.

Now though, Jisung had silently taken the back seat, and after the first five minutes, the conversation between you and him had mostly stopped. He tried to pick it up again, but he knows when people aren’t in the mood to talk.

“Hyung, can we stop at the next rest stop? I have to use the bathroom,” Jisung quietly asks from the backseat.

“Yeah, of course,” he answers, smiling into the rearview mirror.

Jisung isn’t looking at him and is instead gazing blankly out the window. It hurt Jaemin, the way Jisung had asked the question. He has never heard Jisung use that tone of voice with him. He sounded so hollow.

When they got to the rest stop, Jisung practically jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped.

“Should we go buy some snacks?” He suggests, looking over to you.

You nod your head, unbuckling your seat belt. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Jaemin hates this situation. Yes, there is something wrong with Jisung. But now, as you’re walking into the store, he sees something is wrong with you too. He feels helpless because he has no idea what even happened, and no one is telling him anything.

“Do you, uh, do you know what’s wrong with Jisung?” he asks nervously, sending a quick text to Jisung telling him where you are.

You wait a few seconds to answer, which he takes as you definitely know what’s wrong with his best friend. Again, it hurts him that his best friend, and now you, are hiding something from him.

“Yeah, I do,” you start slowly, and he can tell you’re hesitant to tell him. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this, so don’t tell him I told you. But I think he just feels threatened by Ki. I think he’s worried you’ll replace him.”

Jaemin nods his head, taking in a deep breath. Why does there have to be a downside to one of the happiest moments of his life? He’s been looking forward to this day since he heard the song Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood five years ago at his music club in high school.

Like most people in the club, he was shocked when the title had been translated into Korean. He felt almost embarrassed for the girl that brought it up, worried that she would be judged by the other members—despite them being the nicest people he’s ever met.

But when she explained that the song was about the lead singer struggling to deal with his dad’s death and about how he loved the girl for her problems, he was able to see why she loved the song. The idea that a person could love someone else for their problems was magical to him.

That was when he decided he was looking forward to meeting his soulmate. He knows that just because people are soulmates that doesn’t mean they don’t have their problems. That being said, soulmates are made for each other, and he wants someone who is made for him, who will love him for his problems.

“I appreciate you telling me, even if Jisung didn’t want me to know. I’ll talk to him about it when we get back.”

You nod your head, picking up a bag of chips. “I’ll just have these. Are you getting anything?”

He shakes his head, picking up a bag of chips he’s seen Jisung eat many times. “I’ll just get something for Jisung. He texted saying he didn’t want anything and is going to wait in the car. But I know him better. Hey y/n?”

You hum in response. Despite the minimal response, he’s glad you didn’t seem to mind his quick change in topic.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong.”

“I don’t know. You just seem … different. Did Ki and her friends make it awkward or uncomfortable for you?”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, sending him a small smile before mindlessly looking at the different snacks. But the look on your face seemed tired—and not from a lack of sleep. “I just hate long car rides. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Ki and her friends, but it’s a bit tiring for me to socialize with people I don’t know that well first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thank you for doing that for me. It means a lot.”

You smile softly, nodding your heads towards the cashier. “You don’t need to thank me. I enjoyed talking with them.”

Jaemin smiles, following you to the cash register. “Well, the snacks are on me, as a thank you.”

You smile softly in thanks before turning and watching as the cashier scans the items.

He doesn’t know you as well as he knows Jisung, but he thinks you’re lying. He knows when to push, and right now, before a two-hour drive, is not the time to push.

“Ready to go home?” he asks, handing you your bag of chips.

You smile tiredly, nodding your head in response. He smiles back, trying to ignore the sadness in your eyes.

---

“Hey, how was your trip,” Chenle asks after you exchange hellos.

“It was fun!” You lean back against the kitchen counter, crossing your legs. “It was nice having some time with them outside of school.”

“Oh, I bet. Anything fun happen? Any bear attacks?”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “You know it! There were five bear attacks.”

“Wow, that little? Normally it’s in the twenties. How lucky you three were.”

“I know right! And on top of not being attacked by a bear, Jaemin met his soulmate.”

The line goes silent, and you almost feel bad for changing the mood so fast. But Chenle’s your best friend, he’s always there for you, and you’re always there for him.

“Is Jisung okay,” he asks softly.

You shrug your shoulders. “He’s as okay as you can imagine.”

“And how about you? Are you okay?”

You sigh, rubbing your free hand over your face. “You know, in full honesty, I was happy. I mean, this was my chance to show him how worthy I am of being his soulmate. This was my chance, Chenle.”

“Then what?”

“Then he said he doesn’t want to meet his soulmate.”

He sighs, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know I have this conversation with you all the time,” you take a deep breath and push back the tears in your eyes, “but why does this have to happen to me? I like to think that I’m a nice person, so why doesn’t my soulmate want me? I just-this isn’t fair.”

“Y/n no,” he coos softly. “It’ll be okay.”

“How Chenle, how? Because the person I have been waiting my whole life for just said he didn’t want me.”

“Y/n you were worried about the same thing when you found out about Jaemin. That turned out okay and so will this.”

In any other situation, you would appreciate his optimism.

“Come on, Chenle. I appreciate you listening to me, don’t get me wrong, but do you really think this will be okay? I mean, he said he didn’t want to meet his soulmate at all. Last time, you told me it would be okay because I had a place in his heart that couldn’t be filled. Now, though, I’m trying to win a place in his heart. He doesn’t even want me, Chenle.”

You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. You hate everything about this situation. You have never liked drama, and ever since you met Jisung, your life has gotten more dramatic.

But he’s your soulmate; you love him.

“Okay y/n, listen. I know that right now, it seems impossible. But you believe in soulmates, right?”

You blink your eyes in shock. “Chenle I- yeah, of course, I do.”

“Then there’s your answer. He is your soulmate, y/n. He was made from the same star as you, and you have been with him for every single one of your past lives and will continue to be with him for your next lives. So maybe in this life, you guys just have a long story.”

You sigh, wiping your eyes. “Why me, though? I like to think I’ve been a good person, so why does my happy ending have to take so long?”

He laughs, and you can imagine he’s leaning back against the wall next to his bed. “Life has not been easy to us, has it?”

You chuckle, thinking about all the times you would stay at Chenle’s when your parents were too busy to look after you, or vice versa. High school had been the worst for both of you. It was when your parents decided you were old enough to look after yourselves and they could start taking more time-consuming projects.

You chuckle. “No, no, it wasn’t.”

“Do you remember that time when both our parents were gone, and you called me to come over because you were just having a horrible day? To be more specific, it was the first time I used the key to your house that you gave me. I opened the door, and the first thing I said was ‘sit down, I’m going to make you the best dinner you’ve ever had.’”

You chuckle. “Yeah, I remember. I’d had the worst day ever, and you put marina sauce on bread with cheese on top and called it pizza after cooking it in the oven.”

“And it was the best dinner of your life.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

“You’re just in denial. Anyways, my point is, you’re going to be okay. You didn’t have parents around every day like most kids, but you came out just fine. And if your soulmate isn’t someone who sticks around every day, you’ll be okay too. There are other options.”

You scoff. You know what the other options are. They’re dating apps and bars made specifically for people whose soulmates had died or rejected them. Just like when you first read about your mark, you pitted the people who went there. And now, that person might be you.

“I know those options don’t seem very desirable, but if that’s what has to happen, then that’s what happens.”

“You’re right. I’m overthinking things.” You know you’re not unreasonably overthinking things; Chenle just has a way of seeing things simply. This is your soulmate, after all, the person you’ve been dying to meet since you could form a coherent thought.

“No, not really. I just have an outside perspective, so it’s easier for me to be objective,” he replies cheekily.

You smile, rolling your eyes at his attitude. “I raised you better than this.”

“Obviously not. How does it feel to fail?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

—-

“I’m sorry, what?”

To say Jisung is nervous would be an understatement.

This morning, you had sent him and Jaemin a text telling them they had to meet you at this café they had never heard of and that it was important. He had been the last to arrive, but judging from the fact Jaemin was still looking at the menu, he isn’t too late. He decided to sit next to you, and he tried to ignore the little glance Jaemin sent him over the menu.

It has been a month since Jaemin found his soulmate, and Jisung is still having a hard time adjusting. He knows Jaemin isn’t dumb, and he knows Jaemin noticed something was off about him. He just can’t force himself to be around him and act like everything is normal. It hurt too much.

“Listen, I know it’s fast,” you explain. “But my friend is coming back from China, and he didn’t tell me until this morning. He’s a very spontaneous person, and he said he wanted to meet you guys, and I was so excited at the fact that he’s back in the country that I just said yes.”

Jaemin chuckles, shaking his head slightly as he slides the menu across to him. “How come we’ve never heard of him? I didn’t even know you had a friend in China”

“Neither did I,” he adds, picking up the menu to see what drinks they have. Since he hadn’t known he was going to be meeting you today, he had already eaten.

“Okay, yes, but I have mentioned him to you, Jisung. He was the friend I was talking to when you scared me at the store.”

Jisung nods his head, not looking away from the menu. He remembers that friend, the friend who sounded like your soulmate but wasn’t. The fact that he’s about to meet someone so close to you without knowing anything about him worries him. What if he says something stupid to make your friend hate him, causing you to hate him?

“Fine, let me revise. Why haven’t I heard of him?” Jaemin asks, and Jisung can tell he’s smiling.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you look down towards your wrist before looking back up. “He just never came up, I guess.”

“Fine, then what is his—”

“Y/n?”

You and Jisung turn towards the voice before his attention is quickly drawn to you shooting out of your seat to hug a boy with light brown hair. “Chenle! Welcome back.”

Setting down the menu, Jisung slides out of his seat as quietly as he can and into the vacant seat next to Jaemin. Jaemin smiles softly at him, and Jisung quickly flashes him a smile before bringing his attention back to you and Chenle.

“It’s good to be back,” Chenle answers, and Jisung smiles softly at the way he hugs you tightly.

“I see you dyed your hair brown again,” you smile, backing out of the hug and ruffling his hair.

He smiles back at you, rolling his eyes. “I was telling Xiulan how much you liked my brown hair, and I realized how much I liked my brown hair, so I brought it back.”

You laugh, and Jisung notices how much happier you seem. “Well, you look nice. Now, before we make my friends uncomfortable,” you turn to face Jisung and Jaemin, your wide smile still present, “Chenle, this is Jaemin and Jisung. Jaemin and Jisung, this is my best friend, Chenle.”

“It’s nice to meet you two. Y/n has told me a lot about you both,” he says as you both sit down. Chenle smiles at them both, but Jisung notices the way his eyes linger on him longer than Jaemin.

Jisung smiles shyly back, breaking eye contact out of nervousness. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too. But I can’t say y/n has told me a lot about you. This is actually the first time I’m hearing about you,” Jaemin greets, and he doesn’t miss the teasing smile Jaemin sends you.

“What? Are you ashamed of me or something?” Chenle asks, poking you on the arm.

“Oh, you know it,” you respond, wacking his hand, “I knew they wouldn’t want to hang out with me if they knew I hung out with someone like you.”

Jisung and Jaemin chuckle softly at the bickering. It might be too early to tell, but Jisung is willing to bet with Chenle here, he’s going to see a new side of you.

---

“Thank you, sir,” Jisung thanks, handing the cab driver the amount owed.

Jisung isn’t sure he can do this. Sure, it had been fun hanging out with Chenle, and, at the time, he thought it would be fun to hang out with him again.

Now that he was standing in front of a house he has never been to, with the intention to go in and watch a movie with you and someone he met this morning, he’s having second thoughts.

Despite it being hard to be around Jaemin, he wishes more than anything that he was standing next to him now. Had he known Jaemin wasn’t able to make it, he probably wouldn’t have accepted. Maybe it was his own fault for being slightly distant from Jaemin recently, but he used to know when Jaemin was busy and when he wasn’t.

Sighing, he pulls out his phone and presses on your contact. “I’m here y/n,” he says as soon as you pick up.

You chuckle. “Hello to you too. Chenle's on the third floor, apartment 311.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Sighing again, he hangs up the phone, shoving it back into his pocket before he pulls the door open. Tapping his finger against each other as he walks to the elevator, he pushes against the feeling that something bad is going to happen. He should have brought something, a gift of some kind. Isn’t it rude to show up at someone’s house without a gift of some kind?

Shaking his head, he pushes the up button on the elevator, stepping in a second later.

“It’ll be okay, Jisung,” he mumbles to himself, watching the red number at the top change. “Y/n’s there, and they won’t put you in an uncomfortable position. You’ll be fine.”

He finds himself repeating the last three words as the elevator dings open, and he begins walking in what he assumes to be the right direction. Judging by how the numbers on the door kept increasing, he’d say he made the right decision.

Soon, he finds himself in front of the door with 311 posted on the front. Taking a deep breath, he brings his fist up and knocks on the door three times.

“Welcome to the-“ Chenle announces as he opens the door.

“Lee household,” y/n finishes. Judging from the confused glance Chenle sends you, that wasn’t part of the plan.

“Thank you for inviting me here,” he responds, slowly walking into the room and placing his shoes with the others. “Are you sure I’m not overstepping? I’m sure you want to spend some time with your family.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you’re not,” Chenle answers, closing the door behind him and walking to the left.”My parents don’t get back for another two days. Your company is welcome.”

“What about me,” y/n responds. “I’m literally sleeping in the room across from yours. Am I not enough company for you?”

Chenle pokes his head from around the corner, looking you up and down, before shaking his head and letting out a simple, “Nah.”

You gasp dramatically, and Jisung watches in amusement as Chenle disappears behind the corner again.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" you huff, leaning against the wall as you wait for Jisung to remove his shoes. "You're friends with someone for as long as you can remember, and this is how he treats you. Make a mental note, Jisung men aren't worth it."

Jisung chuckles. "Yeah, I'll be sure to remember that. I'm sure it'll help me tons in my life, you know, being a guy and all."

"Glad you agree! Now come this way, and follow me to the semi comfy couch."

"What did you say about my couch?" Chenle asks, watching as you both walk into the room.

"That's it's semi comfy," you answer, taking a seat next to him. "Ready to start?" you ask, patting the spot next to you and looking up at him.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom first,” Jisung says awkwardly.

“Okay, it’s just down that hall and to the right. You’ll find it,” y/n answers, pointing to a hall on the other side of the room.

He walks towards the hallway, checking over his shoulder once to make sure he is going in the right direction. When you nod in reassurance, he turns the corner and is met with a short hallway with two doors. Pushing an already open door he assumes to be the bathroom further open, he’s met with a white bathroom.

“My mom would be so jealous of this room,” he mumbles to himself, closing the door behind him.

Coming out of the bathroom, he finds himself face to face with a photo of what he assumes to be Chenle’s family. Above the picture, the words “种 family” are printed in black letters.

Jisung tilts his head to the side in confusion. He can’t say for sure, but from what he remembers from the Hanja lessons at school, 种 doesn’t translate to Lee.

He doesn’t know what it translates to, so he takes a photo of it to check later. He feels like he’s overstepping, especially since Chenle invited him into his home despite only meeting him this morning. It just doesn't sit right with him; why would you lie to him?

“Y/n,” He hears Chenle whisper as he walks closer. The rest of the conversation is continued in fast English, making it hard to follow. Not that he’s trying to eavesdrop.

His presence in the room causes the conversation to end, and he freezes a second as they both look over at him. He smiles shyly, quickly walking towards the couch and taking the seat next to you.

“Ready to start?”

“Yeah, what are we watching?”

“Hope you like horror, Jisung, because that’s our favorite genre to watch together,” Chenle answers, scrolling through the movies on Netflix.

“Of course, if it really makes you uncomfortable, we can watch something else,” you add, smiling softly at him over your shoulder.

Jisung looks at the movie on the screen, a movie called Hush. “Um no, horror is good. I haven’t watched too many horror movies, so it’ll be nice to find out if I like them or not.”

“Good!” Chenle cheers, pressing play. “Then off we go!”  

--

“We’re soulmates.”

You blink back at him, the smile dropping off your face. “How’d you know?”

“You knew, didn’t you.”

Normally, Jisung isn’t this forward. He liked to word things carefully and do anything in his power to avoid confrontation. Normally, instead of meeting you outside your dorm building, he would’ve met you at a café or a park. Right now, however, he is too annoyed to take the time to be polite. You had lied to him.

You nod your head. “How did you find out?”

“There was a photo of Chenle and his family that said ‘Zhong family.’” He rolls up his sleeve to show you his tally mark. “Knowing that, the ZCL wasn’t too hard to understand. You really went on a date with your best friend?”

Your eyebrows raise in shock, and Jisung only barely notices the sharp tone in his voice. “Are you judging me?”

“No, no, I just better understand how you were able to give me such good advice about Jaemin.”

You laugh. “Listen, I don’t know why you’re being like this but you have no right. I have never had any interest in dating Chenle. I was able to give you that advice because while I may not love Chenle how you love Jaemin—which is fine, by the way—I do love him.”

Jisung is taken back with embarrassment. He feels naked now that you know about this part of him, and for a moment, he’s worried you’ll ridicule him. How did you even know? He hasn’t told anyone and he thinks he’s been relatively discrete about it. Then it clicks. You’re his soulmate. Again, he finds himself hating soulmates. If it weren’t for this, no one would know.

“You-you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You sigh. “Jisung, I’m—”

“Y/n,” he interrupts, his embarrassment fueling his anger. “I can’t see you anymore.”

“Wait,” you laugh humorlessly. “Let me get this straight, you’re deciding you can’t be around me anymore because I’m the person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with?”

“You don’t understand,” Jisung sighs. Despite the embarrassment, he knows he isn’t in the right to be annoyed or angry; but you don’t understand what he’s trying to do and it's furthering his annoyance. He’s trying to help you.

“You’re right, I don’t. Because there isn’t anything to understand. But please, tell me what you think I need to understand.”

“I don’t need to explain this to you, so if you can’t understand I’m sorry. But I never liked the idea of soulmates, okay? My parents are soulmates and they didn’t fit well together, they still don’t. There is nothing certain about them, so why do I have to spend my life looking for this one person when I don’t even know who they are? I want to get to know the person before I decide if I want to spend my life with them. Not because I’m supposed to be with them.”

You scoff. “You’re being selfish and contradicting your own logic. You got to know me before you found out we are soulmates.”

“Selfish?” he laughs. “How am I being selfish?”

“Because you’re deciding you’re more important than I am. You’re deciding that your feelings of ‘oh, my parents failed as soulmates so me and y/n will fail too’ is more important than anything I have to say. Instead of considering my side, which is, ‘I understand that Jisung is afraid, but I’m willing to work with him to realize it doesn’t have to go the way he thinks it will.’”

He scoffs. “I hardly think that’s being selfish.”

“Oh, you don’t? I’ve waited my whole life to meet my soulmate, and when I did, I found out he wants nothing to do with me. So you know what I do? I put my feelings aside, and I decide I’m going to prove to you that I’m worthy of being your soulmate. That if you still don’t want me after I’ve given my all, then I’ll respect your wishes and you’ll never have to think of me as your soulmate again. But you, you weren’t thinking about me when you decided this, and you’re still not thinking about me. If not selfish, then what?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not going to let you talk to me like this. We can talk more when you’re calmed down.”

You nod your head. “Okay, you do that. My words may be harsh, and maybe I could have worded this better, but none of it is false. So you go, think about what I said, and let me ‘calm down.’ Then later, you’re going to decide how you want this relationship to continue for the time being. Because I love you, Jisung, and I’m not going to give up on you yet. But if you come to me tomorrow and decide you don’t want me right now, then I’m done chasing after you for the time being. I need a break from being second best.”  

You and Jisung look at each other in silence before he takes a deep breath and turns away from you, quickly walking away from your dorm building.

---

When he gets back to his room, he quickly throws himself face-first onto his bed. He still can’t believe the conversation he just had with you. How could you not understand? He was trying to help you; he was trying to save you from a forced relationship.

Sighing, he flips around onto his back and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. Opening his contacts, he scrolls until he finds the one he’s looking for. Jaemin’s contact.

He knows he has been distant towards Jaemin, and he feels bad that he’s only starting to get close to him again because he needs his advice. Better now than never, right?

“Jisung!” Jaemin exclaims as soon as he picks up. “What’s up?”

“I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, of course. What is it?”

Jisung sighs, the conversation still fresh in his mind. “Y/n and I are soulmates. They knew we’re soulmates and they didn’t even tell me.”

The line goes silent, and Jisung can imagine his friend is having a hard time deciding what he should say. “How do you feel about that?”

Jisung shrugs his shoulders, putting the phone on speaker before laying it on top of his chest. “Just as you imagine I would. I never wanted to meet my soulmate, and now I find out my soulmate is one of my best friends. How is that fair?”

“Well,” Jaemin starts slowly, and Jisung can tell he’s still having a hard time picking his words. “I can say that if I were in your shoes, I’d be happy. Not that I’m not happy with Ki, she seems very nice, I just mean it would’ve been even better had I been friends with her before.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jisung sighs. “You know me, and you know about my parents. So you know why I don’t want my soulmate. I’ve said this many times before, but there isn’t anything certain about soulmates so why should I have to spend my life with them?”

“Did you tell them that?”

“Yeah, I did. I told y/n I couldn’t see them anymore, and they then proceeded to call me selfish.” He complains.

“How so?”

“They said that by deciding that I didn’t want to meet my soulmate, I was only considering my feelings and not theirs. Which is something I decided when I was like 10, so I hardly think that qualifies as selfish. Plenty of people decide they want to meet their soulmates at 10 and they aren’t called selfish.”

Jisung can’t hide how annoyed he is. He knows he should try and explain things a bit more, or mention how you had been calm at first until he started arguing. But he didn’t want Jaemin to side with you. Even if he is wrong, which he can’t understand how he could be, he doesn’t want Jaemin to say it. He just wants someone on his side right now.

“Well that in itself isn’t selfish. Is that what they said was selfish?” “Well, no. They said I was selfish for not considering their point of view; by not giving us a try. But there is no us,” he laughs, “We’re not even dating! Why should I have to give us a try when, a, I never wanted to meet my soulmate, and b, I don’t have romantic feelings towards them right now. How is it selfish to not want to go on a date?”

“Of course it isn’t. I think they just mean it’s selfish not to look at their point of view. If y/n didn’t tell you right away, that must mean they were considering it might be fast for you and chose to wait. I think they’re just hoping you’ll do the same.”

“But why do I have to give up this thing that I’ve held so close to me since I was little. I watched my dad treat my mom like she wasn’t the person ‘made from the same star’ as he was. He acted like we were just there. Which, yeah, I guess I should be glad he never physically hurt us. Jaemin, he doesn’t care about us. And I’m worried that if I find my soulmate—who is y/n, a friend—then we’re just going to end the same way. I mean, I may not like it, but half of me is from my dad. What if the same thing that is in him, the thing that makes him not care, has passed down to me and by the time y/n realizes it, it’s too late for them to leave. So I don’t think it’s fair that y/n thinks I’m being selfish when I’ve said everything I’ve said for them. It isn’t fair.”

Jisung takes a deep breath. He hadn’t expected to talk to Jaemin about this, but he’s glad he is. While he may not be able to talk to Jaemin about everything—mostly him being bisexual—he is glad he can talk to him about soulmates. Frankly, nothing scares him more than meeting his soulmate. It made him think about his dad; made him wonder how much like him he really was.

“So this is a fear thing, you know that right?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Jisung pauses, thinking over what he just said before sighing. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Okay, then I think you should tell y/n that. I imagine they would be willing to work with you on that.”

“I don’t know if I want to do that.”

Jisung can imagine he’s tilting his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want to work through it. This particular thing has never been a problem for me until now. And it’s only a problem because it’s my soulmate. So if I just keep my distance from them—like I said I would—then I don’t have to fix myself.”

This, Jisung knows, is extremely selfish. But he doesn’t care. Why should he have to change who he is because he’s scared of one person? Why can’t he just save himself time and avoid the root of this fear?

“Jisung,” Jaemin sighs. “Do I have to tell you what’s wrong with that?”

“No, you don’t. I just don’t understand why I have to be the adult and change my whole way of thinking for this one person.”

“Y/n isn’t just a person, they’re your friend. Relationships are the same thing as friendships; you have to work together in order for them to work. Now, I don’t know everything about the situation, but from what you’ve told me and from what I’ve seen, they’ve been trying to work with you. Don’t you think it’s fair that you work with them as well?”

Jisung sighs again, bringing his hands up to rub his face. His annoyance is gone and it’s been replaced with tiredness. Jaemin has a point. “I-I know what you mean. I’m just so tired.”

“Tired? Tired of what?”

“I feel like I always have to change myself. I know it isn’t a bad thing to work on yourself, I just don’t know if I have the energy to change myself even more. This year has been so hard on me; so much has changed in my life. I’m just so tired of having to change myself.”

Jaemin hums and Jisung can imagine he’s nodding his head. “Yeah, change is hard. But if you do the work now, imagine how much better you’ll be in the future. I know this is something you’ve held onto since you were young, but at the same time, y/n has had it in their mind that they’d meet their soulmate and live happily ever after. They changed their thinking and were able to accept that it wouldn’t go the way they thought it would.”

Jisung knows he’s being selfish—now that it’s being thrown back in his face. “Alright, thank you for talking with me Jaemin. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” Jaemin pauses, and Jisung can tell he has more to say. “And Jisung?”

He hums in response.

“It was really nice talking to you again.”

Jisung closes his eyes. “Yeah, it was nice talking. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant from you lately. Like I said, a lot has changed and it’s just been hard adjusting.”

“Well if you ever want someone to talk to about that change, I’m here for you.”

“I will, thank you Hyung.”

---

“Long time no see.”

Jisung chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his cup. “Yeah, I’m sorry it took so long for me to get back to you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you smile softly. Honestly, the three days it took for Jisung to finally message you had been filled with worry. You thought he was never going to get back to you.

“So uh, I thought about our conversation,” he starts, slowly looking up from his cup. “And I just wanted to talk some more before we … decide anything.”

You nod your head, leaning forward in your chair. “Yeah, totally. Go ahead.”

“First, I want to apologize for how I talked to you once I found out. I was hurt because you lied to me, and I was,” he pauses, shaking his head and sighing, “embarrassed you knew about me and Jaemin. So I’m sorry that I used that tone with you, and I want to know what I can do to make it up to you.”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. No one, when apologizing, had ever asked you what they could do to make it up to you. That, paired with the sincere look in his eyes, gave you butterflies, and you found yourself struggling to answer. “Um, you don’t need to do anything. The fact that you’re even asking me what you can do to make it better is enough for me. It means the world to me.”

“Okay, I’m glad,” he smiles. “But if you think of anything let me know. Now I hope you’ll be patient with me during this part. The apology part is the only thing I really prepared for, so I hope you don’t mind me rambling like an idiot.”

“No, of course not. Take your time.”

He takes a deep breath, flashing you a quick smile. “So the first thing I want to talk about is what you want from this relationship. Because you know that I’m … a little hesitant to meet my soulmate and start a romantic relationship. So where are you hoping this will go?”

“If I’m being completely honest, years down the road, I want us to be together and have a family of sorts. Whether that family is kids or dogs, cats, or hamsters, I don’t care. But I can imagine that’s scary for you, so we can take it slow if you want. We continue to stay friends until you’re ready for more.” you take a deep breath, bringing your hands up to wrap around your cup, eyes looking down into the liquid. “Or, if you can’t see yourself even being around me, I can try and get used to the idea that you truly don’t want me. But I meant what I said, I don’t want to give up on you yet. I’ll give you some space and time, and then I’ll try again.”

Jisung nods his head, an emotion you think could only be ununderstanding clouding his eyes. “And this might be weird, but you said you loved me? Do you really?”

You nod your head. “Yeah, I’ve loved you since I was little. As soon as I was able to comprehend soulmates, I knew I loved you. And when I met you, before I found out we were soulmates, I thought you were cute. The way you were so nervous about having dropped that coffee on me was precious and reminded me of myself, and it just made my day better overall. When I found out we were soulmates, it was the first day we went out—all three of us to your friend's dad’s restaurant—was so sad because you loved someone else. I still loved you though it didn’t change how I felt about you. Then once I got to actually know you, my feelings were confirmed? I don’t know, that sounds weird. I just had this faith that you would be a good person, and once I met you, I was sure I was right.”

He blinks at you. “But-but I don’t understand. And maybe it’s because I never intended to meet my soulmate, but how could you love this person you’ve never met?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think everyone thinks the way I do. I think if you asked Jaemin or Chenle if they loved their soulmate before they met them, they’d say no. It’s just a me thing. I have faith that the universe put us together for a reason, and because we’re connected, I’m going to love you. Had you turned out to be a jerk, I probably wouldn’t love you now. But you’re a nice kid, Jisung, so I still have that love for you. I hope I don’t sound too weird.”

“No, no, you don’t,” he quickly denies. “It’s just I grew up watching two people—two soulmates—not love each other. I mean, my dad didn’t even seem to care most of the time. So I grew up thinking that soulmates didn’t work out like people said they did.”

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been hard.”

“It was what it was. I mean, that isn’t something I normally tell people, but I want you to understand I’m not doing it to hurt you. So can we stay friends? I’m not saying we’ll never be together. Right now, it’s just hard for me to say that I’m ready to be my soulmate’s other half.”

For a second, neither of you says anything. You can tell he’s nervous, and you mentally applaud him for keeping his composure. “Of course, I don’t mind staying friends, Jisung. Whatever you need to do.”

He lets out a relieved sigh before he pushes himself up from his chair and walks over to awkwardly hug you. “Thank you for understanding.”

You hug him back, gently squeezing him. He’s the love of your life; what’s the rush?

—-

“Y/n will you please come to the lounge of my dorm?”

“Yeah, sure. Is everything okay? You sound off.”

“I’ll explain when you get here. I just need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in like 5 minutes.”

Once the line goes dead, Jisung leans back in the chair, running a hand over his face.

Jisung isn’t sure why he called you. In the past three months since he told Jaemin about you being his soulmate, they had slowly become normal. Jisung will still get pangs of sadness now and again when thinking about Ki and Jaemin, but it’s better than before. Since he and Jaemin are okay again, why didn’t he call him? He’s who he would normally call.

“Jisung, hey. What’s wrong?” You greet as you set your bag down and sit in the chair across from him.

“My dad died.”

He watches as you freeze before you blink slowly. “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs his shoulders, averting his eyes to look out the window. “I didn’t even know him that well, you know? And then my mom calls me crying and tells me that he died because of a drunk driver.” He takes a deep breath. “I guess I just thought one of these days, when I’m older, I’ll finally get to know why he never bothered to stay around when I was growing up. That I’ll be able to tell him how well I’m doing despite how little he was around, and he’ll tell me that he’s sorry.” Jisung chuckles, shaking his head. He can feel tears start to well behind his eyes. “If you had known him, you would know that’s so unrealistic. Just a fantasy.”

Your face softens, and you nod your head. “That’s not a dumb thing to wish for. I don’t blame you for wanting your dad to show that he loves you.”

He nods, biting his lip. “All my life, I’ve never thought of myself as lacking. My mom was all I needed, and I didn’t need a man to teach me how to be one. But now that he’s dead, it just hurts. And I don’t know why it hurts, and I think that’s why I feel as upset as I do.”

Jisung looks at you with what he can only imagine are pleading eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, he just hopes you have it.

“I’ll be honest, Jisung, I don’t know what to say. Both my parents were as loving as they could have been, despite being gone a lot. If I had to guess, though, it hurts because even if you weren’t close with your dad, he’s still half of you. He was also in your life every day.”

Jisung nods his head once before tipping his head back. Just yesterday, if you asked him about his dad, he wouldn’t have hesitated to say said he didn’t want to talk about it. He wouldn’t even feel bad saying he was a jerk.

Now that he’s dead, he doesn’t know what he can say. Of course, he isn’t going to lie and say he was a great dad, but something feels unresolved.

“I think I feel guilty,” he admits, bringing his eyes back to focus on you.

“About what?”

“I feel guilty that he died, maybe thinking I hated him.” He shuts his eyes as a few tears escape his eyes, and he quickly wipes them. “I don’t hate him.”

A silence sets over you two, and Jisung suddenly realizes how unfair it is of him to suddenly dump this on you.

“I’m sorry-“

“I didn’t know your dad,” you say, cutting him off, “so I can’t say for sure what he thought. Even if I had met him, I wouldn’t be able to say. But unless he was completely delusional, then he was able to see what a good kid you are. If he saw that, then he’d know you didn’t hate him. You should talk to your mom about it. She knows your dad better than anyone—I mean, assuming you’re not close to his parents.”

“Yeah, okay. Would you-would you come with me? When I go back home later today?”

You nod your head. “My last class ends at 2:30 pm. Can you wait until then?”

Jisung nods his head. He’s stopped crying, but he can imagine his eyes look glossed over. “Yeah. I’m not going today so I can meet you outside your class. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, let me just send you the classroom number so you remember where it is,” you respond, pulling out your phone. His eyes are drawn to your wrist and to the black line drawn across it.

He’s noticed that recently you have stopped hiding it. Before, you used to wear long sleeves or cover it with make-up. It was weird seeing the initials of his ex-girlfriend written in black across your skin. Next to the black line is the scar with Jaemin’s initials.

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head to the side, setting your phone on the table in front of you. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’m happy to come back with you and be there for you. You’re someone I really care about.”

“No, not that. I don’t know why I wasn’t more specific about that. I just mean, I’m sorry about the scar on your arm. From me.”

You raise your hand, twisting it around to look at the scar on the inside of your wrist. “You can’t help who you fall in love with,” you whisper, dropping your wrist. Taking a deep breath, you smile at him, hoping to show that it doesn’t bother you as much anymore. “It’s okay. The actual scar didn’t hurt for long.”

“Yeah, but I wish I weren’t this way. I mean, if I were normal, I wouldn’t draw attention to myself, and you wouldn’t have that scar on your wrist.”

“What do you mean ‘draw attention to yourself?'”

Jisung sighs, looking away from you. “I loved Jaemin, and I liked Gaewon. That’s different than normal. And since I’m that way, I’ll have to tell people, and then they’ll have it in the back of their mind whenever they talk to me that I like both men and women. That I’m bisexual.” He whispers the last part, not even wanting to say the word bisexual.

He’s never said the words “I’m bisexual” out loud before, and he never knew words could be so hard to say. He remembered when he finally decided on a label; he was so happy he almost cried. Here was this label that perfectly described what he felt, and here was this community of people who were telling the same story he was living.

After a few days, however, he found the joy slowly start to seep away. He identifies with the label, yes, but he hates it. Since he found out, he would go through different periods where he was okay with who he was and periods where he hated his label. His whole life, he has never wanted to stand out. Now though, he’ll stand out to anyone who knows. Which, right now, is one too many.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve known about this side of you for as long as I’ve known we’re soulmates, and I’ve never thought of you any different because of it. You’re the same Park Jisung that spilled coffee on me. If I ever thought about you loving Jaemin, it was never thoughts of disgust or judgment. Maybe jealousy, but never judgment.”

He looks at you, watching your face for any hints of dishonesty. He sighs, averting his eyes. “Thank you y/n. I didn’t mean to talk about this today; I guess I got carried away on the emotion train. But I’ll see you at 2:30?”

You nod your head, smiling softly at him. “Yeah, sounds good. Call me or Jaemin if you need anything else.”

---

You glance over to the boy sitting next to you, nervously bouncing his leg. He seemed different than when you met him that morning; more nervous.

“Is everything okay?”

He glances over at you before returning his gaze to look out the subway window across from your seats. “I just haven’t been back in a long time. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother very much. It was just too weird with him there. But it will still be just as weird. On top of that, I’m coming back home with my soulmate who I haven’t told her is my soulmate, and I feel bad lying to her. I just feel like if I tell her, there will be some kind of pressure on us to act like traditional soulmates. Which I know is something you want, so then I circle back to feeling this pressure that isn’t even there. Now I’m stress rambling.”

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You’re okay, Jisung. Let’s take that apart point by point. No matter what you do, going back right now is going to be weird. But if you go now, it won’t be as stressful in the future; and that is something to look forward to. Now about us being soulmates. You don’t need to tell her if you don’t want to, but if you feel bad lying, just tell her the truth. And the truth is that we’re waiting for our relationship to develop more before we do anything else. You don’t need to feel bad about jumping straight into a relationship with me because you think that’s what I want to do. What I want to do is whatever you want to do.”

He sighs, ruffling his hair in what you assume to be stress. “But I’m worried you’re just saying that because you know that’s what I want to hear. You can be honest with me. I can take it.”

“I am being honest!” you laugh. “Trust me, Jisung, if I were the type of person to try and force you into a relationship, you’d know.”

He smiles. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry. I’m letting the stress get to me.”

“Yes, yes you are.” You pat his knee.

---

“This is it,” Jisung whispers as you come to a stop outside an apartment door.

You turn your head to look at him, rubbing his arm in comfort. He sighs, shakily pressing in the code. He rests his hand on the handle, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open. “Mom, I’m back. I brought a friend with me too.”

“Jisung!” his mom laughs. She walks around the corner, wiping her eyes. “You should have told me you were bringing someone! I would’ve cleaned myself up a bit. Hi, I’m Jisung’s mom.”

You smile, bowing in greeting. “Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Park. You look just fine. My name is y/n.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you. But you don’t have to lie.” She smiles briefly before turning to Jisung. Her eyes start to water as soon as they meet his, and you move out of the way so she can hug him. “It’s been so long.”

“I know, mom,” he says, hugging her back. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

She pulls back, giving him an adoring smile. “Are you guys hungry? It’s around lunchtime, isn't it? Want me to make you something?”

“No, mom,” he shakes his head. “Let’s go out to eat. I imagine you need to get out of the house.”

“No, no, I’m okay,” her voice breaks, and a few more tears escape from her eyes. “Really. I’m okay.”

Your heart breaks, and you smile softly. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Park, that’s on my part. I told Jisung I wanted to take you out to eat since it’s my first time meeting you.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that.” She dabs at her eyes.

“But I want to! Your son and his friend are the only close friends I have, and I want to show you my gratitude for bringing him into this world. He really is an important person to me, and it’s important to tell people that you’re grateful for them.”

She blinks at you a few times, more tears streaming from her eyes. “That’s—thank you for saying that. As a mother, that is the best thing I could ever hear.”

You smile softly. “So you’ll let me take you and your son out to eat?”

She smiles, sniffling. “Yes, of course, I will. Let me go freshen up, and then we can go! Jisung, show our guest to the living room.”

He nods his head. “Yeah, right this way.”

You send his mom a smile before following him to the living room. He sits down on the blue couch across from the tv, patting the spot next to him.

“Thank you for covering for me. I didn’t know how I was going to come back from that,” he says softly, staring blankly ahead.

“No problem. And I meant what I said. I’ve been trying to let people know when I’m grateful for them, and I’d say I’m grateful you’re alive. It’s the least I can do, especially after her loss.”  

“That’s all?”

You tilt your head to the side, laughing at the silly question. "What do you mean ‘that’s all?' What other reason could there be?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Nothing, never mind.”

“Okay, weirdo.”

“You know, when I was in high school, my mom and I used to watch TV here every night while we ate dinner.”

You smile softly, looking around the room. “Really? That sounds nice.”

He nods his head. “It was. She said she wished we could do family dinners, but they made her feel awkward because it was never something her family did.”

“I get that. As someone who had family dinners whenever both my parents were home, there could be some awkward dinners. Especially after a fight.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he sighs. “We’ve always been so close, y/n, so why am I having such a hard time coming up with things to say to her?”

“Because this is an extremely hard thing to deal with,” you answer. “I don’t know what I’m going to say to one of my parents when the other one dies other than that I’m here for them. But I won’t be in the situation you’re in now. You have to figure out how to ask your mom about your dad. My parents may not have been around a lot either, but I know they loved me and I know the type of people they are.”

He leans his body against the couch, sliding down so his head is resetting against the top of the cushion. “When should I ask? Is right now too soon?”

“I don’t know, Jisung. Maybe you should spend some time with her and see where she’s at? But I don’t think waiting is going to help anything either. If you can spend the night, I would do that. Then you don’t have to feel like there’s any type of rush.”

"Would you,” he hesitates, turning his head to look at you. His eyes look so tired. “Would you be able to stay with me?”

You open your mouth, ready to tell him you have work early in the morning and would only make it if you left before they work up. But the longer you look at his eyes, the more you can tell he needs you. You smile softly, nodding your head. “You’re lucky tomorrow is Saturday. Let me just call into work and tell them a family member passed away.”

His eyes widen, and he pushes himself back into a sitting position. “No, you don’t have to do that for me.”

“Nonsense. You’re my family, so therefore he was my family. I’d do the same for Chenle or Jaemin, assuming they didn’t ask someone else. Well, I’d do it for Chenle whether he asks or not, I’m afraid I love him too much.”

He smiles, not breaking eye contact. You try to give him what you hope is a comforting smile, finding it hard not to let it turn into a shy smile. There wasn’t anything different about the way he was smiling at you—it always made your heart skip a beat.

Ever since Jisung told you he would be willing to take it slow with you, you have found that his smiles are more heart-fluttering, and his normal characteristics are more charming. For the first time in your life, you understand what it means to have a crush on someone.

"Okay, I'm ready to go!" Mrs. Park announces, walking into the room, digging around in her purse for something. "Where were you thinking of going?"

"Wherever your favorite restaurant is," you answer, pushing yourself off the couch.

She laughs. "Okay, how about we go to your favorite restaurant, Jisung? The Italian one?"

"Yeah!" Jisung answers, and you jump slightly at how unexpectedly close he was. "I haven't been there in forever."

"Italian it is then! Let's go."

--

Jisung doesn’t know what to feel.

He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep tonight. After he got the call from his mother about his dad’s death, he knew he was going to be up all night thinking about their time together and how unnecessarily mean he had been at times. Because of you, however, he had the strength to ask his mom questions he otherwise would have never asked. Because of you, he was able to hear that his father loved him the best way he knew how. That his mother had known him for a very long time, had seen his relationships with other people, and knew that his dad loved him more than anyone in the world. She showed him a box of memories his father had been saving for when he turned 21. Inside were photos of him from when he was younger.

She told him she thought he was a very sad man. She thinks he wanted to love her, but he couldn’t. She doesn’t know why, and when he asked what made her think such a thing, she just shrugged.

“I know how it looked, Jisung-ah,” she had said. “He did stay out late, he sometimes stayed out for days on end, and he felt distant from us. I know sometimes it felt like he was just this person instead of a father. Believe me, sometimes it didn’t even feel like I was married. I can’t explain it exactly, but I just got the feeling he wanted to love us but couldn’t. Maybe it was the box he made me promise to never tell you about or the new toys that would sometimes appear out of nowhere when you were a kid or the gifts that would be mailed to my office on our wedding anniversary or my birthday that makes me think this. I think he knew what was right, but he just didn’t feel those things, and I think that made it hard for him to be around us.”

While that didn’t make the past better, and he still holds a little resentment towards his dad for treating his mother so poorly, he thinks he might be able to better come to terms with his death. Even though he doesn’t know if he can say his dad was a good dad, he might be able to say he did his best.

In the end, his mom thinks his dad loved him. When he had tearfully asked her if she thought his dad thought he hated him, she told him that she doubted the thought had ever crossed his mind.

So when he set off to bed tonight, even though he wasn’t excited to share a bed with his mother—he had found out at a pretty young age that he hated sharing a bed with people—he thought he would be able to sleep tonight. That because the thoughts of his father weren’t taking up as much space in his mind as they used to, he would be okay. The thoughts of you, however, are loud enough to keep him up.

He has told himself that there can never be anything between you two because you’re soulmates. He had planned to let this continue until the end of college, where you would both go your separate ways, and he would try and let you down in a way that didn’t make you completely hate him. But lately, you’ve been turning his plan upside down.

He isn’t sure when exactly the plan started to go astray, but he does know that today was the wake-up call he needed to see things weren’t going how he planned. Maybe it was because of how emotional today was that he is suddenly feeling a strong pull towards you. He just knows that the way you helped him with his mom, the way you dropped everything to stay the night with him, and the way you constantly made him feel loved makes him want to spend every second of the day with you.  

“Shit,” he whispers, quickly covering his mouth and turning his head to see if he woke his mother up.

Falling for someone has never scared him before. Granted, he doesn’t have that much experience, the two times he had done it hadn’t scared him. Sure, falling for Jaemin had been worrying at times, but it never scared him. This—you—terrified him.

He wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for you. Hell, he wasn’t even supposed to meet you. Jisung sighs, flipping onto his other side and hugging the blanket closer to himself. He focuses on the warmth of his mother next to him and on trying to hear her breathing. He’ll deal with this tomorrow.

---

“Good morning dear, y/n made breakfast.”

Jisung freezes in place, looking between you and his mom sat at the small dining table.

“There’s some food in the pan on the stove. Grab a bowl and come join us,” his mom suggests, pulling out the chair between you two and smiling up at him.

He slowly nods his head, looking between you both once again before turning around towards the pan. “What is it?”

“It’s eggs and tomato. It’s one of Chenle’s favorite dishes, and I learned how to make it the other day,” you answer. “I was told I wasn’t allowed to leave until I got the recipe down. So since I had to deal with Chenle lovingly criticizing my every move, I thought, why not try it out on you two.”  

“Chenle, that’s an interesting name. Are they your soulmate?”

“No, he’s just their friend,” Jisung answers, staring down as he sets his plate on the table and takes the seat next to his mom.

He looks up as he scoots his chair closer to the table, quickly averting his eyes as he makes eye contact with you. He doesn’t miss the strange look you give him.

“Oh, okay. Sorry I assumed. I just thought that because you knew his favorite food, you must be soulmates. But thinking about it now, he could’ve also been your sibling,” his mom laughs.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Park. He and I are very compatible—sometimes it surprises me that we aren’t soulmates.”

She laughs, reaching over to pat your hand. “Well, I’m glad to hear that you have such a good friend. Jisung here has never bothered to bring the infamous Jaemin over. I have no way of knowing if my Jisung is in good hands.”

Jisung looks at his mother, holding her stare as she smiles at him. He knows she’s trying to embarrass him; she never talks like this. He squints slightly at her—he isn’t going to let her win.

You laugh, and he breaks eye contact with his mom to look over at you.

“Having met Jaemin, I can assure you he and Jisung are just as compatible as me and Chenle. He’s a great match for Jisung.”

“Well, if you’re any indication in his choice of friends, then I’m sure he’s great. It’s been a joy getting to know you, and I really appreciate you being here for my son. Speaking of,” she turns her attention away from you and looks at him, her eyes changing from teasing to sad. “I think I’m going to spend a few weeks with my mom. It’s—” she pauses, looking around the room. “It’s too hard being here.”

Jisung tilts his head to the side, setting his spoon down. “Of course, mom. Do you need me and y/n to help you pack some stuff?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I only ask that you stay here with me until I’m done packing. I’m used to the house being quiet, but this is too much.”

You nod your head. “Yeah, of course. When you sleep in someone’s room, you get a sense of who they really are. And I have some questions for your son.”

Jisung scrunches his nose, and before he can respond in some sarcastic way, his mother interrupts him.

“I think that’s a great idea. You guys hang out, Jisung, show your friend the photo album, and then we can all leave together!”

He nods his head, smiling softly at his mom. “Okay, yeah, that’s a good idea.”

She smiles at you two before she pushes back the chair and walks to her room. Jisung lets a silence settle between you two for a second before he takes a deep breath and picks up his bowl. “Ready to go?”

You nod your head, pushing back your chair and following him to his room.

“Was the bed comfortable?”

“Yeah, thanks again for letting me take your bed.”

He nods his head, turning the knob and pushing open the door. “No problem. You’re already doing me a huge favor by staying here with me. The least I can do is let you sleep in an actual bed. Now have a seat on the bed. There was something I wanted to show you, so this is a good chance to show you.”

You nod your head, taking a seat on his bed and crossing your legs. He sets his bowl on the ground before walking over to his dresser and pulling out a photo book from the bottom drawer. He takes a seat next to you on the bed, setting the book between you two before bending forward to pick his bowl back up.

“This is my own photo album. I don’t think my mom even knows about this one.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Why doesn’t she know about it?”

He shrugs, taking a bite of his food. “I started it as a way for me to have my own album. When I was younger, I loved looking through my mom’s photo albums, and I wanted to start one for my future kids. One day, I was going through photos with her, and she threw away some photos she didn’t like. But those photos were important to me, so when she left the room, I took them from the trash and kept them here.”

“That’s sweet, Jisung.”

He shrugs. “You can look through it.”

Jisung hasn’t looked through this album in forever. Granted, when he was younger, he only ever looked through it when adding a new photo—which wasn’t often. This time, however, until this morning, he forgot he even had this album. He watches as you flip through the album, smiling at the photos of his first cat and some photos when he went to camp.

He lets his eyes drift from the album up to you. You’re smiling down at the album, commenting on how cute he was as a kid. Sitting here with you feels like something from a movie. He is sitting with you, on his bed, him finishing his breakfast and you wearing one of his shirts and pajama pants—they were technically his dad’s, but they had been put in his room a long time ago, and he never bothered to give them back—and he’s showing you something he’s never shown anyone. It feels surreal.

He puts the spoon in his mouth without any food and lets it hang there, hand still holding onto the handle. His thoughts from last night suddenly come rushing back, and he feels slightly anxious. He's falling for you, and he is slowly accepting that. But now that he's starting to accept that, he feels anxious not telling you. At the same time, the idea of telling you makes him anxious. He inwardly sighs, why is life so hard?

“Hey, Jisung,” you say, lightly touching his arm. “Is the spoon better than the food?”

He shakes his head and takes the spoon out of his mouth. “Hum? What do you mean?”

You laugh softly. “I asked you a question, and you didn’t answer. So I looked up, and you were just sitting there with a spoon in your mouth. I tried to make a joke, but I’m not very funny.”

“Oh, no, sorry. The food was great, all of Chenle’s loving nagging paid off. It’s just a thing I do when I finish my food, and I guess I got lost in thought. What was your question?”

“I was just asking who this was,” you answer, pointing to a photo.

“Oh, that’s Eunseong, one of my mom’s old friends.” He smiles down at the photo. It was a photo of him, his mom, and Eunseong looking for a Christmas tree. “He lived with us for a while.”

“Can I ask why?”

“When I was in fifth grade, my dad got transferred down to Busan for a year. Not that my dad helped all that much, but mom thought she needed more help so she invited Eunseong to live with us for a year. I think she just wanted to have someone you know? This was one of the photos she threw out.”

“What? Even though it is none of my business, why did she do that? You all look so happy.”

“Well, he felt like I did about my dad and wanted my mom to leave him. His soulmate had died, and I think he had feelings for her. Anyways, I remember there being this argument where he said that if she didn’t leave my dad, then he was done with us. They thought I was asleep, it was like five am so I was supposed to be. I remember her crying and nothing else. But the next few days he was still there and I thought it would be okay. Then, like a week before my dad came home, they got into another fight. I’m not sure what this one was about, but it was really bad. He yelled at her, and then he just left. He just left her, crouched on the floor and bawling her eyes out. I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there with her. I decided then that I wouldn’t miss him. He came back the next day while I was at school, grabbed his stuff, and left.”

A silence settles over you two once again, eyes never leaving the photo.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “That sounds hard. But why would you want to keep this photo?”

“He was still part of my life. He was only with us for one year, but he actually ate with us on the couch. And while I’ve never thought I needed a constant father figure in my life, he was the closest thing I had to one. I remember that year when we were making gifts for our parents on parents day, I told the teacher I had two dads—one stepdad and one dad,” He shakes his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track, “Anyway, the point of the story was to say that while I may not have liked him at the end, he was still an important part of my life. And I think it’s important to remember him.”

“I agree with you. I think it’s important to remember even the hurtful memories. They help us grow.”

He nods his head in agreement. “I even have some of my parents' wedding photos; despite my mother hating how she looks in them. Of course, she still has some in her albums, but none of them are out to see. I think she looks beautiful in them.”

He turns the page and finds the photo of his mom and dad at their wedding. The photo he has is one of his favorites; one where his mom and dad are standing next to their parents. He always loved this photo because his mother looked so radiant. Aside from that, the idea that there was once a time his mom and dad were happy is something he’s always dreamed about. He knew, however, that the smiles in the photos weren’t one hundred percent genuine on his mother’s part. She always mentioned how stressed she was when planning it and that she was glad she never had to do it again.

“She is beautiful,” you agree.

“My dad looks so young,” he comments quietly.

“He’s very handsome. I guess you take after him.”

“No, I don’t look like either of my parents. My mom says I have his eyes, but I’ve never been able to see it.”

“Okay, be that as it may, I was just trying to compliment you on your looks and you should take the compliment.”

You laugh softly, and normally, Jisung would’ve laughed with you. This time, he just looks at you. The more he thinks about it, the more you and Jaemin have similar characteristics. You both care for him, you both have that teasing attitude (although Jaemin is more… aggressive with his actions), and you both mean the world to him. He thought that once he found out you were his soulmate, he would realize how incompatible you two are; how unfit you two are to be a couple.

Being here with you, watching as you cared for him and his mother in little ways, has made him realize how close to perfect you two could be.

“Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry if I did.”

“No, it’s not that. I just think—”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” his mom says, poking her head into the room. “but I think I should let you two know I’ll be ready to leave soon so if you want to leave with me you might want to change now. Of course, you guys can stay after I leave, I just thought I’d let you two know.”

“Are you okay with leaving with her or do you want some more time to get ready?” He asks turning his attention back to you.

“We can leave with you, Mrs. Park. Let me just go get changed, I’ll do the dishes, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“Oh you don’t have to do the dishes,” Jisung says.

“Nonsense. I’m the one who made the mess in a house that isn’t mine, I should be the one to clean it up,” you answer pushing yourself off the bed.

“Really, I don’t mind. You cooked us food. Plus you’re my guest, what kind of a host would I be if I let you do more than you already have?”

“Park Jisung,” you say, not turning to look at him as you bend to pick up your folded pile of clothes. “If you don’t let me do these dishes, I will get your roommate to lock you out of your dorm for a week, leaving you cold and sad.”

“You do that and I’ll get Jaemin Hyung to—”

“Oh, you’ll get him to do what?”  

“Well, if you’d let me finish, I’d be able to tell you now wouldn’t I?”

“Like you have it in your heart to hurt me.”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile breaking out. “Okay one, I never said I’d hurt you. And two, right now it isn’t hard to imagine causing you a small inconvenience.”

“Did you hear that Mrs. Park? Your son is threatening me,” you walk towards his mom, stopping once you’re next to her.

His mom laughs, shaking her head slightly. “My my Jisung, how college has changed you. That is no way to treat a friend.”

“That’s low l/n, telling on me to my mom.”

You wink at him over your shoulder. “I’m here to win, Park.”

Before he can get another word in, you’re already walking towards the bathroom.

“I’m glad you have a friend like that,” his mom says softly.

“Yeah, me too.” He turns his attention away from the last place you where to his mother. “Hey mom?”

“Yeah hun?”

“I- uh,” he starts hesitantly, rubbing his hands together nervously. “Can you come here a sec? And could you close the door? I want to talk to you privately.”

“Yeah, of course,” she answers, quickly closing the door and taking your spot on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. I just—I just want to thank you. You’ve always been there for me, and I want you to know that I appreciate it.”

“You don’t need to thank me, I’m just doing my job as a mother. Is that all you needed to talk to me about?” She asks, worry lacing her tone.

“No, not exactly. I, um, I met my soulmate.”

He looks up from his hands in time to see his mother’s eyes widen and she excitedly pulls him into a hug. “Oh my gosh Jisung! That’s great, I’m so excited for you.”

He hugs her “Yeah, it’s been something.”

His mom pulls away, a bright smile spread across her face. “I always thought you didn’t know what your mark was; what’s your mark? Tell me about her.”

“It’s the tally mark one. See?” He turns his wrist out so she can see the black tally mark spread across his skin. She grabs his wrist, lightly tracing over the black line.  “But before I tell you about my soulmate, I have a few things I want to talk about.”

“Sure, go for it.”

“If I— if my—” he takes a deep breath, “Sorry, I’m kind of nervous.”

“No it’s okay baby, take your time. But I am kind of worried, is there anything wrong?”

“No no, nothing is wrong. Well, hopefully not anyways. If my soulmate were a... if they were a boy how would you feel?”

His mom freezes, and he quickly averts his eyes to his hands. I can’t believe I said that, I should have waited to tell her. God, what am I thinking?

“Is your soulmate a boy?” She asks hesitantly.

“I—just if they were, what would you feel? If I dated someone or liked someone who was a man, what would you say?”

“I don’t know Jisung, I’ve never thought about it,” she takes a deep breath, and he can tell she isn’t any less relaxed. “If I’m being honest, because you know how I feel about beating around the bush, it would make me slightly uncomfortable. But it’s not because I have anything against your soulmate being a man, I would prefer them to be a woman, it’s just because it’s different. Different is hard. But who you date or who your soulmate is won’t change the fact that you’re my son and I love you with my whole heart. I would die for you, Jisung, and while I might find it uncomfortable at first I could get over it.”

Jisung looks up at his mom, feeling his eyes well with tears. “Do you mean that? You really wouldn’t care?”

She nods her head self-assured. “Like I said, I would prefer it if it were a woman, but we can’t help who our soulmates are. If they just so happen to be a man, I’ll get over my hesitance towards it. But I don’t want you to worry about what I think, Jisung. You just need to live your life however that is.”

He feels a few tears escape his eyes. “I—thank you. Thank you.”

Jisung never knew how much of a weight this question had been bearing on him. While the answer isn’t exactly an ideal answer, it is still better than what he feared she would say. The fact that his mother is willing to change for him is good enough.

“Now,” his mom smiles, patting his knee. “Why don’t you go get changed and then we can leave together? It was an emotional day yesterday, and I think we both need to leave this house.”

Jisung nods his head, smiling weakly at his mother as she walks out the room. Jisung spent a lot of time in the house alone, so he is used to the house being quiet. His mom is right, though, now that his father is dead, the house is too quiet. He hasn’t been left alone since he got here, but now that he’s sitting alone in his room he understands what his mother was talking about. Even though his dad wasn’t around much, it still felt weird being in the house knowing his dad wasn’t going to be coming through the door ever again, no matter how late.

Taking a deep breath, he pushes himself off the bed and walks towards the closet. Pulling open the middle drawer, he looks down at the cloths inside. He hasn’t worn these clothes since he left for college. They are mostly the clothes his father had given him before he left.

It was when he had been away on a business trip for a week in Buyeo and he came home with three pairs of jeans and two shirts. It is the proudest he can remember his dad being of him. Even if he had tried to pass it off as his mom had told him that Jisung was running out of good clothes to wear and if he passed any clothing stores to get something. The fact that he even got him a congratulatory gift for getting into college had made Jisung falter.

“The one nice thing I know he actually did for me, and I never even showed him I appreciated it,” he whispers, smiling sadly as he pulls one of the shirts and one of the pants out of the drawer.

“I really want to thank you,” he hears his mom say as he leaves his room. “It means a lot to me that you’re here for my son.”

“Jisung is someone really important to me, Mrs. Park. You did a good job with him.”

“I don’t know what Jisung has told you about my husband, but he helped a little too. I think him being as… absent as he was really helped shape him into the person he is today.”

He leans against his door, listening to his mom talk. They have never really talked about his dad much, other than the few times he asked his mom why she stayed. It was new hearing her talk about him like this.

“Well, you and Mr. Park did an amazing job raising your son. Like I said, he’s an amazing person and someone who means a lot to me and Jaemin.”

“Yeah, yeah we did a good job didn’t we?”

---

“Will you come get some coffee or something with me?” Jisung asks, nervously messing with his hands behind his back.

“Sure! So long as it isn’t the place I work. I’m supposed to be grieving with family,” you answer, smiling brightly at him.

“Before we met you, there was a favorite place me and Jaemin Hyung loved to go. Let’s go there!”

You nod once, linking your arm with his and following him as he leads you down the street.

Jisung feels his heart skip a beat and he smiles to himself. After his talk with his mom, he feels like he can do anything. He had plans to talk to you today no matter what, but knowing his mom was accepting of who he was helped him feel more confident. As Jaemin would remind him constantly, confidence is key.

It didn’t take long for you to get to the shop from the bus station. When he enters the shop, he looks around in wonder. It had been a year since he had been here and it still looks the same. Along with his mom accepting him, it helped to be in a place he was comfortable with.

“What do you want to drink? I’m paying,” he offers as you’re both staring at the menu.

“You don’t have to do that Jisung,” you answer slowly, still reading the menu. “I can pay for myself.”

“Nonsense, you paid for our dinner last night, this is on me.”

“If you’re sure,” you answer hesitantly. “I’ll order, and then I’ll go get us a table.”

“It’s nice out, why don’t we sit outside?”.

You raise your hand to flash him an okay sign before walking up to the register and ordering. He watches as you smile at the cashier, nodding your head once before you turn towards the left and out the side door towards the outside seating.

“God, today feels so long,” you sigh, leaning over the back of the chair and stretching your arms out.

Jisung chuckles. “Yeah, and it’s only one in the afternoon.”  

“When I get back to my dorm, I’m just going to lounge.”

“That sounds like a good plan. Hey y/n,”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yeah?”

“I’m feeling really good right now. Well, let me rephrase that. It’s been an emotional few days. And in those few days, you have been there for me. These past few days, my dad has died, I talked to my mom to try and figure out the mess that is my relationship with my father, and then I talked to my mother about her feelings on me dating a man. So overall, I’ve been all over the place the past two days.” He laughs and you laugh nervously with him. “My point is, you’ve been there for me. You’ve been there for me despite how complicated I made our relationship, however many weeks ago.”

You awkwardly laugh, and Jisung worries he’s made you uncomfortable. “You don’t need to thank me, Jisung. That’s what friends are for.”

“Um yeah, but we’re not friends. We’re soulmates.”

Your face drops. “I tried to take things slow. I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I’ve been trying to keep things normal. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you done?” Jisung asks, trying to smile comfortingly despite how much he was freaking out on the inside.

“Yeah, yeah I’m done. Just know that I’m so sorry if I forced this whole soulmate thing on you.”

“Okay, first of all, you should be able to see that I’m trying to tell you how grateful I am for you. Did you miss the part at the beginning where I told you how you’ve been there for me?”

“I thought that was a way of you saying ‘you overstepped your boundaries as my soulmate being just a friend’ and that you needed space from me,” you answer quietly.

“You shouldn’t think so much,” he chuckles. “I said what I said to show you that I’m thankful for what you’ve done for me and my family.”

“Oh, well like I said, it’s what friends are for.”

“And like I said, we’re not friends; we’re soulmates.”

“See, that right there,” you point a finger at him, shaking it slightly, “This is what confused me. What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, we’re soulmates. That’s what the tally marks on our wrist mean.”

You blink at him. “I’m aware of that, Jisung.”

“And you’ll have to forgive me, because I know I’ve been going about this all wrong but I’m really nervous right now.” He clears his throat, smiling nervously. “What I was trying to say is that you’ve been there for me the past two days. Had this happened five months ago, Jaemin Hyung would have been the one in your place. I’ll be honest, at first, I wasn’t sure why I even called you. I mean yeah, things with Hyung haven’t been the easiest since he found his soulmate, but he’s still someone I find comfort in; he’s my best friend. But since I spent this time with you, you have shown me how much you love me. Let me just say, it’s nice knowing someone loves me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted; someone besides my mom to love me unconditionally.”

“How do you know I love you unconditionally?” You joke, but he can see it in your eyes that you’re nervous.

“Well I guess you never said those words specifically. But you said you’ve loved me since you were a kid, and that just makes me feel warm inside. I think I should chase that feeling.”

“Jisung I’m still not understanding.”

“I’m saying, I think I want to try being soulmates.”

Your eyes widen, and he can tell you’re fighting back a smile. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be caught up in everything that’s happened and just tell me what you think I want to hear. I don’t want you to regret this.”

“I won’t regret this, y/n. The only reason I didn’t ask you sooner is because you’re my soulmate. I held you to this standard that we would be an unfit match together, and thankfully you failed to meet that standard. I think we would be a good fit.”

Jisung watches a wide smile spread across your face. “Jisung I promise you you’re not going to regret this. We’ll go as slow as you want to and you let me know anytime I make you uncomfortable. This—thank you Jisung, thank you so much.”

He mirrors your smile. He knew you were going to agree to this, but there was still that underlying fear that you’d reject him. “I know, trust me I know. I want to thank you once again for being patient with me. I know I’ve probably been taking this slower that you would’ve liked, but you have been so understanding of me. Even when I was being selfish.”

“Well, all you needed was for me to point out your self centeredness and you snapped right out of it,” you respond, leaning back in your chair.

He smiles, nodding in agreement. “Yeah yeah, you were right. But look where we are now! We’re able to sit here and have a nice cup of drink.”

You laugh loudly, a sweet smile still spread across your face. “Yes, we are having a nice cup of drink. Nicely put Park.”

“Thank you thank you, Korean is my first language” he tips his head slightly as a bow.  “You know,” he starts slowly, averting his eyes to look down at his cup he has yet to take a drink from. “If you are having a good time, this could be our first date?”  

When you don’t answer right away, he looks up at you. “Or, don’t be afraid to say no. I didn’t even ask you. Not that it has to be me who asks for the first date, I just thought that since we’re waiting on me to be ready, I should be the one to ask.”

Laughing, you cover your mouth with your hand. “I am so happy right now even your rambling is cute.”

“You should move your hand away from your mouth when you speak, it isn’t very polite.”

“Awww, look at you,” you coo, leaning forward onto the table. “You’re embarrassed. You're clenching and unclenching your fist and you won’t look me in the eye. You’re so cute.”

“I can take back my offer, you know. I’m not afraid to take back my offer, and leave you here,” he threatens. He knows you don’t take him seriously, based on the euphoric smile plastered on your face. That, and the fact his words hold no truth to them. You have him pegged.

“Oh come on,” you whine. “The date has already started, you can’t back out now Park.”

“Oh, so you are agreeing to this being a date?” He cringes slightly at how excited his voice sounds.

“Of course I am! Jisung, I’ve been waiting for this moment since I was little. So sitting here, with my wonderful soulmate who bought me a nice cup of drink, why wouldn’t I say yes?”

He nods his head once, smiling widely. “I um, wow I’ll be honest I thought you were going to say no. I had plans to take you to dinner or something.”

“You can still take me to dinner, can’t say I’d complain.”

“Yeah, but I have to keep the bar low. If I start at the top,” he brings his right hand up a few inches above the table, “then I can only go down. But if I start here,” he brings his left hand up and dramatically sets it on the table, almost spilling his drink, “then I can only go up.”

“Ah, good plan, good plan. Do tell, what comes next from here?”

“I’m thinking a few convenience store runs, maybe a trip to the zoo or something. We got to slowly build our way up, you know?”

You nod your head thoughtfully. “Yeah okay, that sounds smart. I mean, it’s not like we’re soulmates or anything so why try and impress me right?”

He snaps his fingers, pointing at you. “See, look at you go, you smart little thing.”

You roll your eyes, picking up your drink and blowing softly on it. He shakes his head, smiling softly.

“Hey y/n?”

“Hm?” you hum, finally taking a sip of your drink.

“I think we’re going to be really happy.”

You bite your lip, smiling as you set your cup down. “Yeah, yeah I think so too.”

---

Okay! Sorry for how weird this was posted, I’m the slowest reader alive so it took me forever to do the final read through. Thank you yo @jiwvnie for reading more than I told her she had to, I truly appreciate her. I have always wanted to write a soulmate au so I would love to know what you thought of this. 

Have a great day/night!!

Masterlist

#nct-writers #nct jisung #park jisung x reader #nct dream x gender neutral reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream x reader #na jaemin #NCT #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

[bentforkent]

CAMP FIREFLY - chapter one

word count: 4,210

content warnings: brief joking mention of child death

read on ao3 / read on wattpad (coming soon too lazy to upload there rn lol) / previous part / next part

Emily wakes up on the first day of camp feeling like someone is sitting on her chest. It’s the same atmosphere as usual; her head rises from the same old flat pillow to the same old bunk above her. It’s the same atmosphere, sure, but today feels fundamentally different, for it’s the first time she’ll be interacting with real campers. Children. A gaggle of young folk coming to her every day for instruction or nurturing or a hand with the hot-glue stick. She’s been trained for this, of course, but what if she messes up a craft? What if she accidentally says “fuck”?

Wide awake, JJ and Penelope are up and bouncing around the cabin cheerily by the time Emily wiggles her toes and comes to from Dreamland. Emily had only awoken in the first place because the early-rising pair tuned the radio to something upbeat and relatively staticless, cranking up the volume. Emily would’ve considered that very rude had she not already slept in for an extra hour, and had she not been greeted with incredible excitement once her eyes popped open.

“She’s awake!” JJ cheered, Penelope replying with a soft good morning!. Emily took her time pulling her body from the mattress, and now sits still-groggy on the floor by her bunk, trying to do her makeup in a tiny, fogged compact mirror. Penelope is standing behind JJ, braiding bright purple ribbons into her hair.

It’s so early it’s still dark outside, so the three of them are illuminated by a sorta-eerie yellow light, an old light bulb wired smack in the center of the cabin. Penelope’s bags are packed by the door, and when Emily notices them, she feels a pang of sadness upon remembering that Penelope will be moving out to her own cabin with her own group of campers today. Emily will get to stay with JJ, which she thinks is quite nice, because the only other option was a single room all the way over by Rossi’s office all by herself. And she’s finding that she quite likes spending time with JJ and Penelope, so newfound solitude would be a drag.

The bunch have spent their past week in training--learning the lay of the land through semi-degraded VHS tapes of Rossi when he was young and sprightly still, walking through the camp and delivering very specific instructions on how to deal with very specific situations. Penelope was in charge of teaching the fun stuff---chants and traditions and how to make friendship bracelets.

On a particularly sweaty, boring training day, Emily pulled Aaron aside--away from the group who was watching an old-Rossi-video about the lake just behind the camp--and asked him if everything was always like this. Emily wasn’t entirely sure what the “this” was, whether she meant peppy or hot or musty or involved, but Aaron had nodded his head sympathetically and walked Emily back to her seat with a whispered, “You’ll get used to it.” Emily was only a tiny bit aware of Penelope’s eyes fixated on her as she slumped back down in the sticky plastic seat and focused back on Rossi-with-hair explaining the stupid history of the stupid lake.

And used to it she got. Spencer, too.

Turns out he shared the same sentiment as Emily--the, “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here, but I don’t hate it,” sentiment, as they’d so concisely dubbed it, when they sat together in the back of the big room training was taking place in, gossiping and giggling as Rossi, real Rossi --- old Rossi --- stood in front of the small group and explained yet another probably-self-explanatory camp rule.

For as much training as it feels like they participate in --- or sit through, rather --- Spencer still wakes up on the first day of Real Camp so stressed out he checks for gray hairs in the mirror.

It turns out that you can sit through a series of convoluted VHS tapes and Penelope-lessons and still not know a thing about what you’re supposed to be doing. It also turns out that while Camp Firefly is clearly very loved, it’s not the most...efficient summer camp of the area. Or the most safe. Or staffed. Or large. In fact, Spencer marvels at the fact people even send their kids here to stay. It’s not that the camp is poorly run or anything (to imply that would be to question the abilities of him and his friends, Spencer acknowledges), but there’s got to be better options, is the point.

Besides the small handful of counselors Spencer had become close with, the staff only consists of a trio of kitchen staff, one (one!) lifeguard, and a male nurse that Spencer had spoken to once and left the conversation supremely uneasy at the poor guy giving any medical advice. Spencer made a mental note to try his hardest to not have any health issues during his time here.

The kitchen staff are older---like, appear-in-the-old-training-videos older, but they entertain the rest of the newer, younger staff with stories of their youth. The nature of Camp Firefly means that they have stories about Spencer’s friends, too, as the majority of them have been going to the camp every summer since they were children, aging up into their jobs as counselors.

Spencer hears about the time an elementary-aged Derek begged to help serve food to the other campers just because, and about the time Penelope and JJ (when the story is told, they call her Jennifer) passed a petition calling for Rossi’s retirement around the whole camp, just because he cancelled the Talent Show. (The petition turned up only 4 signatures, and the Talent Show is no longer a Camp Firefly tradition).

It’s awe-inducing to Spencer that these people around him have lived whole lives in these dingy cabins. They’ve known each other for ages, built relationships and traditions and memories and stories, all because their parents chose the cheapest sleepaway camp option.

Spencer wonders how different his life would have turned out if he’d been indoctrinated into Summer Camp Culture in his youth, whether he’d even be at Camp Firefly now. Probably not. Definitely not.

Everyone is hanging out around Rossi’s office when the first bus arrives, lounging against the walls and picking at their cuticles. The sun is meandering its way over the horizon finally, but it still feels impossibly early. The group wears bright orange Camp Firefly t-shirts that are meant to be matching, but budget things mean that some of the shirts are more worn---Aaron’s has the sleeves cut off, and the logo is largely rubbed off of JJ’s---and some are brand new.

The crackling of the bus’ tires signals it’s presence before the vehicle peeks over the hill, and when it’s finally in everyone’s line of vision, it’s like a switch flips. They’re hooting and hollering, jumping and dancing in the name of welcoming this bus. Spencer has a wild grin on his face, and when he meets Emily’s eyes, they share a look of fondness and excitement.

After the first bus arrives, the day goes by as quickly as a montage--a cluster of quickly moving vignettes.

Spencer watches as a young girl stares up at Derek, eyes wide and full of wonder. He’s lifting her--and three other girls’--duffle bags with ease, muscles flexing and shiny with sweat. Same, Spencer thinks, realizing his expression is most likely the same as the girl’s. Derek flashes him a quick, hot smile, and Spencer grins in return.

Emily executes her first craft--a cluster of glitter and string and construction paper--flawlessly. Each group introduces themselves to her with a chorus of “hi Emily,” and it warms her heart more than she expected. One girl missing her front tooth hangs back as her group is leaving--Penelope’s group is leaving--just to tell Emily that she likes her “funny makeup.” It’s just eyeliner, really, it’s not that funny, but the sentiment makes Emily smile nonetheless.

Aaron has some trouble with children in his group picking beds, a small verbal scuffle breaking out between two campers vying for the last top bunk. Aaron, ever a mediator, solves it with a stern glance at the pair and a reminder that the other option out of the two is a bed near a window, another highly-sought-after spot. They fight for the window bed next, and Aaron feels a gray hair sprout on the spot.

Once all of Penelope’s campers have unpacked, she takes them on a top-secret trip down to the lake. It’s definitely not top-secret, it’s a staple of every group’s first-day tour, but Penelope has a knack for making her campers feel special, so they creep around the sandy shore on their tiptoes, whispering, while Andrea the Lifeguard looks on.

Despite the speed and relative easiness of the day, everyone finds themselves exhausted, greeting each other with pantomimes of falling asleep and loud sighs. It’s not been a bad day at all, but a long one, and in an attempt to remedy the feeling Derek graciously offers to run to the supermarket and pick up some fun snacks---a counselors only affair.

Spencer volunteers to accompany him on account of him wanting to spend obscene amounts of time with Derek, and also on the account of Rossi offering his expensive car for Derek to drive. Oh, to feel buttery leather seats and hear music and smell anything but dry leaves and B.O.

As soon as their campers are pawned off to other people and sufficiently supervised, Rossi tosses his keys to Derek, who catches them with a jingle.

“Be back soon,” Derek promises, and Spencer punctuates with a wave and a smile.

The fluorescent lights buzz in Spencer’s ear, comforting him. Bzz, bzz. Hope you like the air conditioning, they call out to him. He sure does.

Normally the energy of these 24/7 high-budget chain grocery stores freak Spencer out. It’s always too bright, too loud, too full-of-people. But tonight, there’s not a soul around except him and Derek and the high-school-aged cashier, so Spencer’s actually feeling particularly soothed. The sounds of Derek’s feet dragging on the shiny floor and the squeaky wheel are good sounds, he decides. He could still do without the candy-coated pop music wafting through the speakers.

The shopping cart remains empty for about fifteen minutes before either of them address it. Derek and Spencer spend those 15 minutes wandering aisles, relatively silent save for short, casual remarks like, “Oh, maybe we should get barbecue chips,” or, “JJ loves these Fruit by The Foot.”

Derek pauses from where he’s pushing the cart and turns to Spencer. “We should probably start shopping for real now, huh?”

Honestly, half of Spencer thought they had been shopping for real already. But apparently, if you’re not putting things in the cart, it doesn’t count, he learns. (Derek might be a misguided teacher in that lesson, though.)

“I like to take my time here, because it’s about the only time during camp I get to be alone,” Derek explains, tossing a loaf of bread into the cart absentmindedly. Bread is not on the list.

Spencer tugs at his fraying string bracelet. “Oh. Sorry, then,” he says. Three boxes of graham crackers are set delicately next to the bread.

“For what?”

“Well, you’re not really alone right now,” Spencer observes.

Derek shrugs casually. “Sure, I guess. But you don’t really count, Spence,” he says.

He means it kindly, Spencer knows. But it’s an odd thing to hear--what does that mean? Is he implying Spencer is too boring, or too quiet? Before Spencer can spiral too much, Derek notices his uncomfortable silence and continues, “Hey, no, I mean because I like spending time with you. Like, it’s easy. I don’t have to think about it.”

Spencer has a flash of a vision of Derek dipping him right there in aisle 6 and planting a nice firm kiss onto his lips. In that vision, there’s a fog machine whirring and some Chopin playing. Vision-Spencer nips at vision-Derek’s lower lip.

Instead of all that, present-moment-Spencer nudges Derek’s shoulder with his own, murmuring a happy little “likewise,” and clinging onto the sound of Derek’s chuckle.

Derek kept his hand on the center console the whole drive home, and Spencer desperately wanted to reach out and grab it, to open his palm and lay in it, letting him be engulfed like a weighted blanket. But he kept his hands to himself, squarely on his thighs.

It’s dark when they return, and the bright LED headlights of Rossi’s fancy car seem out of place when they pull back into the camp. Everything seems out of place. Spencer can’t put his finger on it --- the buildings haven’t shifted, and the camp is exactly the same as it was before he left, and yet he’s got this strange premonition that something is just...off.

Spencer’s shoe is untied, and he can feel the laces whipping his ankle as he and Derek trek to Rossi’s office to return his keys to him. He’d reach down and tie them if not for the plastic bags of groceries in his hand---god forbid he let food sit on the dirty, unpaved path, no matter how many layers of plastic packaging protect it. Besides, the air feels thicker than usual, and each time the knit of his shoelace brushes his skin, Spencer is reminded just how uncomfortable everything feels and how desperate he is to be inside.

Everyone is packed into Rossi’s office when the pair gets there, and Spencer’s stomach sinks the tiniest bit.

Penelope and Emily are lounging in those sticky plastic chairs, showered and smelling like a cocktail of cheap, fruity shampoo. Behind them are Aaron and JJ --- JJ’s standing to braid French braids into Penelope’s wet hair, and Aaron just appears to be shaking out pent-up energy. How he isn’t tired, Spencer doesn’t know. Confused, and with hesitant movements, Derek pushes away a stack of bright-white papers on Rossi’s desk to make space for the grocery bags. “What’s everyone doing in here?” he asks. “I thought we were doing Shifts tonight.”

Now that campers have arrived at the camp, it’s become a little more complicated to hang out as a group in the evenings, as they’ve all got an obligation to be in their cabins just in case. Liabilities, and all that.

The first year Aaron was old enough to become a counselor---he was the first of the bunch to age up into the job---he devised an elaborate, elaborate system that allowed the group to socialize without any sleeping campers being left alone.

It’s complete with maps and rules and a very strict set of time shifts, so in addition to Spencer and Emily’s official training, they’d been trained on the side by a very drill-sergeant-y JJ in what Aaron all those years ago so aptly dubbed “Shifts.”

Neither Spencer nor Emily have got it down yet.

“Rossi has an announcement,” Aaron says, pulling his ankle up behind him into a simple hamstring stretch.

“Yeah, I heard he’s gonna promote you to Head of Grocery Shopping, Der,” Penelope teases, peering jovially at Derek through the corner of her eye.

“Haha,” Derek deadpans, and tosses her a pack of fruit snacks that he’d picked out specifically for her. They're the good brand, the blue bag, and she accepts graciously with a kiss blown in his direction. Derek catches it, and presses it to his cheek.

Emily has noticed that Rossi always slinks into his office after his guests have arrived. He’s never there waiting, never anticipating. She has no clue where he’s coming from, although she assumes it’s from his cabin. He always makes an entrance, always sits with a weird old-guy sigh, and then launches into whatever reason he’d called the meeting in the first place.

On cue, Rossi swings the door open and lowers himself into his chair slowly. Emily anticipates it and then there it is---Rossi sighs that damn sigh, and leans forward onto his desk. Although no one else moves, the air shifts towards him as well, and it feels like the seven of them are all standing nose-to-nose.

Penelope slips Rossi a fruit snack discreetly, sliding it across the table to rest by his elbow.

“You know I love you all very much,” Rossi starts, and Emily feels like she might puke. That’s the thing about her Rossi prediction --- the important part, the part where he speaks, is the part she’ll never be able to guess.

So, she feels like she might puke. Not because she feels ill, of course, but in her experience all of that cheesy, “I love you” bullshit always prefaces the worst news, and she has absolutely no clue what is about to come out of Rossi’s mouth. Her mind leaps to the worst possible conclusion---”You’re firing all of us,” she blurts out, relieving the tension just a tad as JJ bursts into snickers behind her.

Another sigh. “No, I’m not firing you.”

“A kid died?”

“Jesus, Emily, would you let me finish?” Rossi says.

Then, after a deep breath, “Developers are coming tomorrow to look at the land. I’m planning on selling Camp as soon as this summer is finished.”

Oh, Emily thinks.

It hits them like a punch to the gut.

There’s hardly room to breathe in the cabin, let alone fall to the floor, but somehow JJ makes it work. The sound of her knees hitting the wooden floor reverberates and warps through the space.

Emily and Spencer exchange a watery glance and mirror each other, biting the inside of their cheeks at the same time. They share a small, spiritless smile at the misfortune.

Penelope is gasping short and shallow breaths as she staves off cries, reaching down and behind her for JJ, who has tucked her head into her knees, pulling off an emotional Child’s Pose on the filthy floor.

Penelope crying is awkward because Emily is sitting right there, upset as well but characteristically less overt about it. Their knees are touching --- Emily’s right to Penelope’s left --- and yet, there’s no tissue for Emily to give Penelope, no way to console her without feeling irreparably out of place. Emily sinks lower into her seat, wishing she had the confidence to place her hand on Penelope’s leg as a tender signal that she’s there and she understands.

Derek is shoved into Spencer as Aaron pushes past him and out of Rossi’s office. It’s not a malicious push, and the sad look Derek gives Spencer is one of pity both for Aaron and for himself, too. An anguished cry comes from outside, from Aaron, and everyone’s eyes widen a little at the sound.

It’s impressive to Emily just how immediately everyone started crying. Before Rossi had even finished his sentence, there were tears welling up in Penelope’s big hazel eyes. Emily almost feels jealous at the brazen displays of emotion. She wants to love something so hard that she could cry at the drop of a hat over it. Nothing has ever touched her as Camp Firefly has touched Penelope, touched JJ, touched Aaron, touched Derek.

“I feel like my world is crashing around me,” Derek admits shyly. “As stupid as that sounds.”

Spencer nods. He knows the feeling. They sit on the porch of their cabin in creaky rocking chairs, a cloud of bug spray encompassing them.

“It’s like, I grew up at this camp. This camp saved me as a kid.” Derek shakes his head.

This camp is saving me now, Spencer thinks wryly before tucking that thought away in a deep corner of his brain. “I’m really sorry, Derek,” he says sincerely.

The door to the cabin creaks open, and a teary-eyed child steps out onto the porch. His feet are light, and he closes the door behind him slowly, clearly not trying to wake any of his fellow campers. “Derek?” he asks quietly. “I can’t sleep...and I kinda miss my mom.”

“C’mere, then,” Derek says tenderly, and gestures for the boy to sit in one of the unoccupied rocking chairs. “Spencer and I were just talking about how much we miss our moms, right Spence?”

Spencer agrees with a nod and a kind smile directed at the boy, then he takes a backseat to the conversation unfolding in front of him. He watches as Derek effortlessly consoles the weeping child before him by sharing his own stories of similar plights in homesickness and offering jokingly to sing the cabin to sleep next time.

After a few minutes Spencer’s mind starts to wander, curious on how the rest of his friends are sleeping tonight after the news of Camp Firefly’s imminent closure. He hopes Emily is chatting with JJ just as he’s chatting with Derek, comforting her and providing the very few words of solace that would help in this situation. He thinks of Penelope and Aaron, all alone, and he half-considers walking over to each of their cabins just to check on them. He doesn’t, though, because it’s technically against the rules, and because Derek is standing, wrapping up his conversation and holding his hand out to help Spencer up out of his seat. The camper, who Spencer has learned is named Alex, scampers inside, tears dried.

Derek holds intense locked eye-contact with Spencer for a second. His eyes are soul-searching, making it clear that he has something he would like to say to Spencer. Maybe he wants to thank Spencer for listening to him talk, or accompanying him to the grocery store. Spencer quickly flips through a plethora of ideas of what Derek could say next like he’s flipping through a book, but he comes up short.

Derek’s mouth is open slightly, like he’d taken in a breath to speak and then lost his train of thought. The sight of him makes Spencer sweat a little, and just for a moment he feels like maybe he should break the short distance between them and kiss him.

Then Derek is tearing his eyes away, dropping Spencer’s hand, murmuring a gentle, “Sleep well, Spencer,” and retreating inside and to his bunk.

“Goodnight,” Spencer replies, but Derek’s already tucked himself in and turned his back to where Spencer stands by the open door.

Emily is always the last one to fall asleep. She knows this based solely on a feeling, an energy that settles over the camp when everyone else’s eyelashes are finally closed and their breathing patterns slowed. It takes a little longer on this night, considering the 40 new bodies in the vicinity--Welcome, Campers!--and the obviously upsetting news that’d been delivered to her and her friends, but finally Emily feels it. She’s the only one awake.

As much as Emily doesn’t like to spend time to herself, as she often finds herself in rabbit holes of self-loathing thoughts, this nightly hour-or-so of atmospheric solitude is comforting. Usually.

Tonight, she’s reeling with visions of land developers coming to the camp in fancy suits, and clipboards, and leather loafers that are far unsuited to trek through Camp Firefly’s unpaved land. And it sucks to imagine.

Emily has only spent a week or so here at the camp, so she doesn't feel like this loss hits her particularly hard. The only reason she’s even at this tiny camp in the first place is the fact that it’s on the exact opposite end of the country from where she’d spent her spring.

When summer ends, and this camp is gone, all she’ll need to do to heal is move to a new city, and make new friends. Then she’ll repeat the process once she gets hurt or bored. The collection of people who have known and loved Emily Prentiss is so impossibly large, and as a result, large is the collection of people who have lost her and haven’t thought about her since.

With regret, Emily recognizes that the group she’s met and befriended this past week will eventually forget about her, remembering her only as the charismatic figure who took over the Craft Cabin the year the camp closed.

And yet, she feels differently than usual. She thinks of pretty Penelope, who is so sweet and sheepish and shy around her, but blooms into wide smiles and rosy cheeks around others. Of JJ, who eagerly taught her how to braid and make friendship bracelets on only their second day of meeting. Derek and Aaron, the rare macho men who haven’t made her want to gouge her eyes out but instead make her laugh constantly. She thinks of Spencer, the quiet intellectual who she feels such a warmth toward, considering him her baby sibling or her protegé.

She’s not entirely sure of what this emotion is, what it means or what it will mean in the future. What she does know, though, is that she’ll take up as much space as possible until her quiet disband from the mismatched group of friends. It’s how she always goes.

It’s then that she decides fuck the developers and fuck Rossi’s plans. If she’s going down and away with this camp, she might as well make it count. As she closes her eyes, finally ready to sleep, a plan begins to formulate in her mind.

- - - - - - -

next part

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal mind fanfic #penemily #moreid #idk what to tag this as idk just reblog it if u care about me. :D #camp firefly

[nolanell]

The Arcade: Writer Wednesday September 29th 2021

Writer Wednesday: @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape

Pairing: Steve Harrington (Stranger Things) x GN!Reader

Warnings: This initally takes place in a loud, bright, crowded arcade and the reader is on the verge of a panic attack. Mention of crowded spaces, loud noise, bright lights, symptoms of the onset of a panic attack and techniques for grounding to prevent a panic attack (the symptoms of an oncoming panic attack are just what I have personally experienced, not universal symptoms, and the technique in the story is just what works for me as a person, this is not advice or saying it can or should work for everyone). Also mentions of anxiety about moving to a new area and making new friends, starting at a new high school, and brief mention of the end of the world (in a lighthearted, sarcastic way). There are no spoilers for the show, but some characters are mentioned by name.

Character Notes: Reader is completely undescribed physically, but they are of high school age, which is mentioned in the story.

Length: ~1.4k

Not for the first time, you wondered why you were here. You were semi-convinced some apocalyptic event was going to kick off while you were at the arcade, given the stories your friends had shared with you since you arrived in town. They’d sworn they were all true, your neighbour friend’s little sister proudly stating she was in the same class as Mike, Lucas, Will and Dustin, and she was taught by Mr. Clarke. She’d heard whispered conversations as she passed the AV Club room. She promised she knew certain things were true.

Your friends had convinced you to come along to the arcade for some video game time and terrible arcade food. Make the most of the last week before high school started up again, before the worry of whether you’d be in any of their classes set in. You’d made friends with them as they lived on your street; you weren’t sure you could take being plunged back into the world of not knowing a soul, not sure how to start again, how to not neglect the friends you had already made. You wanted to have a good time, forget those worries, you really did, but you just couldn’t relax. It was too crowded, too loud, too bright; one of these things alone would be just about manageable but all three was too much. The neon lights were too harsh, you felt like you could hear them thrumming along to accompany the incessant synth music that pumped up everybody’s adrenaline; pushed them to play, play, play, and get that elusive high score. This compounded the crowds which formed around arcade machines; every machine with someone doing well and the entourage of friends surrounding them, shoving in to get a good view. The people milling around looking for their friends or a free machine jostled the groups and meant you couldn’t stand still for more than a second before someone else was barging into you, not really paying attention to where they were going. Anyone older dismissed you as a young kid who should watch where they are, and anyone younger was too wrapped up in their arcade adventure to care. As you felt that pit in your stomach, that unpleasant wave start to course through your body, the clammy feel to your skin prickling under the AC on the exposed parts of your skin, you leant over to one of the group and lightly tapped her on the shoulder.

‘Hey, I’m gonna go outside and get some air,’ you said as you cupped your hand to funnel your speech, to making it easier to hear.

She nodded, gripped your forearm, and squeezed. She said something as you turned to leave, you thought, but you couldn’t be sure. Speech was starting to blur into just one noise, sounded so loud and yet so far away all at once. The lights were so bright you felt like you could see everything and nothing; the arcade machines were hyper-detailed with their bright colours and logos, but you also could not register facial features of the people you shoved through to get to the doors. Finally, you managed to make out the glowing red word ‘EXIT’ and you surged forward, knowing cool air, open space and quieter sounds were just ahead. You half leaned, half fell on the door, pushing it open and almost threw yourself down the concrete stairs onto the sidewalk. You collapsed onto the floor, leaning your back on the little wall that ran in front of the arcade, tilting your head back and resting it on one of the railing beams. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest, your chest itself was rising and falling with every rushed breath you inhaled and exhaled. You closed your eyes, hoping to come back to yourself, hoping to slow yourself down. This didn’t have to reach the crescendo of a full-blown attack. This could be brought back down. You were out of the trigger. It’s okay. You’re okay.

‘Hey, you okay?’ a voice asked you. It sounded concerned.

‘I will be,’ your voice sounded breathless in between gasps of air.

‘You sure?’ the voice asked.

‘Yes,’ you virtually snapped. ‘Sorry. Yes, I’ll be fine.’

‘Don’t worry,’ the voice seemed unfazed by your snap. ‘Would you like… would you like some help breathing?’

Your brow creased a little. You would like some help, but you also had no idea who this person was, and you did not have the mental or emotional fortitude to deal with meeting a new person right now. Then again, they did offer to help without you even looking at them…

‘If that’s too much, it’s alright,’ the voice said.

How this person was so understanding was beyond you, but it helped you decide. ‘Some help breathing would be great, actually.’

‘Sure,’ the voice said. ‘Just slowly breathe in…’

Your breath dragged inward, and you heard breathe in too. ‘And hold for three… two… one… and let it out slowly.’

You heard them exhale and you followed their lead. This went on a few times, you following their lead each time. The gaps between finishing the last rhythm and starting the next got longer and longer, until you found yourself noticing that your breathing was at its normal pace again, without even having to force it or concentrate. You felt grounded, and while you would never say it was like it never happened, you felt calm. You brought your head up, not yet opening your eyes. That would take a moment. You exhaled slowly, not quite a sigh but not quite just a normal breath out.

‘How you doing?’ the voice asked.

‘Okay,’ you nodded slowly. You opened your eyes. The fairground that had set up in the park across the street was in full swing, the music and the bright lights feeling more nostalgic than terrifying. At this distance, you could watch and enjoy. There were a few people nearby but nowhere near the crush of the crowd that had been inside. People were chatting, laughing, having a good time. Small groups scattered around the sidewalk on both sides of the street, trying to decide between the lure of the fair or the old faithful fun of the arcade. You turned to your left, looking for the owner of the voice.

‘Thank you,’ you said, looking at the voice’s owner. He was not what you were expecting, and you made a note not to keep having preconceptions.

His whole look was… cool. There was no denying it. His hair was outstanding, particularly. You didn’t even want to think about how much he probably spent on hairspray in a month. He had a light grey jacket on, jeans and hi-top sneakers. It was a super chill look but he made it the most awesome outfit you’d ever seen. Yet as you looked closer, there was something sad, something not quite sure of himself in those big dark eyes, and you found yourself wondering how much of the super-cool exterior was a shield to the world.

‘No worries, it can get intense in there,’ he nodded at the arcade.

‘Sure can. I really appreciate your help,’ you smiled.

‘Hey, no problem. You in town for the fair?’ he asked.

‘No, I moved here over the summer,’ you shake your head.

‘Gotcha,’ he nodded.

You stood up, rolling your neck and shoulders, and puffed out a sigh. You could see one of your friends coming to the door, the one you spoke to, and gave her a thumbs up. She held up a soda cup, silently asking if you wanted one. You nodded, but mimed drinking it and then pointed to the ground a couple of times, indicating you wanted to stay outside. She nodded and disappeared from view.

‘Seriously, thanks for your help. I really do appreciate it,’ you smiled.

‘No problem, I know what it can be like. Things get surprisingly crazy around here,’ he took a step toward you. ‘Steve Harrington,’ he offered his hand out.

No way. The guy your friend’s little sister swore was besties with Dustin? You tentatively gave your name and shook his hand. ‘So I’ve heard about it getting crazy around here, I mean. Nice to meet you, Steve. See you around?’

‘Sure,’ he nodded. ‘I gotta get back to work,’ he nodded at the video store, ‘but I’ll see you around.’

Hawkins was definitely an interesting place to be, but you were starting to think people’s friendships were meaningful here. It was going to be okay. You were going to be okay.

#writer wednesday #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x gn reader #please read the warnings

[satoruvt]

for now; forever

pairing → kwon soonyoung x reader

word count → 9015

genre → mostly fluff, angst ↳ tags: ooh boy. firewatch au, banter, like a little bit (a lot) of pining, strangers to friends to… something, FLIRTING, reader’s kinda fucked up but its ok, hoshi’s weird and endearing (as always), a tiny bit of hurt/comfort, minghao best boy, soonyoung is very sweet it makes me want to cry

synopsis → after an unfortunate burnout that lands you in every critic’s negative and all-seeing eye, you decide to take a break from the one thing you know. you’re not sure if you’ll find what you’re looking for out in the middle of the woods - if you’re looking for anything at all - but at the very least, soonyoung will make the hunt a little less lonely.

warnings → there’s eventually a forest fire (starts on day 64 and is mentioned throughout the rest of the fic) that leads to an evacuation but it’s not super detailed, mentions and descriptions of creative burnout/breakdown

a/n → IT’S FINALLY HERE!!! i made a fancy banner nd everything <3 i know 9k isn’t a lot to some people but this is probably the longest one shot i’ve ever written LMAOO so i hope it’s paced ok and everything <33 PLEASE let me know what yall thought about this i am insanely proud of it. ok thats it hehe. hope you enjoy!!! see u on the other side!!!!

btw here’s a fun playlist of songs i listened to while writing mixed with some songs i think reflect the fic super well <33

DAY ONE.

So. You’re… out here, now.

Save for the bugs you have to swat at every fifteen seconds, the outdoors doesn’t seem that bad. The weather isn’t too hot (yet, your mind reminds you) and there’s something about the color of the sky that makes your heart constrict in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s good or bad, but given your luck recently, you’re hoping it’s not a warning for the coming months - God knows you need a break. The weight of the journal in your bag feels heavier than any of the camping gear you brought with you.

You debate texting Minghao that you’ve made it to the park safely, but when you check your phone after deciding yes, you see the words no service instead of the familiar lines of a signal. It’s not that big of a deal - you’d told him when you left that you probably wouldn’t have service at all - but a little part of you feels the tender shake of anxiety at the thought of not being able to contact your best friend. 

He was the most worried out of everyone when you told him you were leaving for the summer. You can’t really blame him - it was abrupt, you saw the flyer at the grocery store and took it - but after what happened… doing something felt, feels, better than sitting around and waiting for nothing to happen. Waiting for a healing you aren’t sure will ever come, at least not completely.

“Is this really…” Minghao had started upon first entering your apartment after getting your text. Clothes were thrown all over your bedroom floor in an attempt to pack. “Do you need to do this?”

The tone of his voice told you he wasn’t going to try to stop you, that he just wanted to make sure this was what you needed. You had only nodded, sitting down on the edge of your bed to fold clothes and pack them into your suitcase.

“I just don’t want you to run away from it all,” Minghao said softly, sitting next to you. “You’ll need to face it eventually.”

“Is escaping really such a bad thing?” You asked, looking at Minghao. He gave you the look he did when you said something stupid, and if you weren’t still so wired from everything, you might have laughed. Instead, you sighed, placing a pair of pants into your suitcase. “I just need some time.”

Before you can face it, before you can come back, before you can write again… you still don’t know. Minghao had placed a kind hand on your shoulder to tell you there was no rush.

It’d taken no more than two days for you to get everything ready - including buying some apparently necessary survival equipment from Target. In a matter of a few hours you had gathered everything up, texted some other friends and your family that you might not be available the next few months and then… you left. 

(Your manager was pretty pissed off that you left so suddenly, but she was also pissed off at you when you told her you needed a break for at least a few weeks, so you’re not really offended.)

You take one last longing look at your car before locking it, pocketing the keys, and starting on your hike.

The hike takes almost the whole day. 

You think you almost cry when you finally see the watch tower you’re supposed to be staying in, your legs barely able to hold the rest of your body up. The hike wasn’t hard, really - long, though, and for someone who usually spends a work day sitting at a desk, you’re surprised you’re still alive. You find the little lock that holds the keys to the tower at the bottom of the stairs, fastened onto the railing. It takes a few seconds for you to enter the code you’d been given earlier, relishing in the soft breeze the cools the sweat on your face and neck. The sun is just barely starting to set beyond the mountains, a beautiful sight that you can’t properly focus on because all you want to do is pass out. You’re pretty sure you almost do on your way up the stairs.

The cabin at the top of the tower is pretty scarcely furnished, save for a few basic necessities (a gas stove rests on one wall, a small desk opposite to it by the door, a mini-fridge, and a bed in the corner plus what looks like a map table in the center of the room). It’s a little weird, a feeling caught between the nostalgia of moving into a new place and something you can’t quite name, but you figure you have a few months to make it all a little more comfortable.

For now, though, you feel like you’re on the last leg of your energy. Your mind is saying eat, sleep, eat, sleep on repeat and you have to agree with it, so you change the sheets on the bed, take down the boards over the windows while you wait for the macaroni from the Kraft box to cook. You end up eating a few forkfuls of poorly-made mac and cheese before crashing.

When you wake up, it’s to gentle static and a semi-clear, unfamiliar voice. It takes you a minute to remember where you are and what you’re doing, too disoriented to even think about the voice, but then - oh. Forest. Watch tower. Escape. Okay.

“Yo, Cottonwood! Am I coming through okay? Pick up your radio!”

Right. The voice. Radio?

“Come on, I saw you get in yesterday, I know you’re there. Unless,” a gasp, “you died! Oh my God, this is like a horror movie… and I’m next!”

You manage to wake up enough to locate your radio (a walkie-talkie resting on a charger on the desk) and, after a few seconds of gentle struggle, work it. “Not dead,” you say, then clear your throat because your voice does not sound good right after waking up. “I mean… almost. But not dead.”

There’s barely a moment of hesitation before the person on the other end hoots, apparently excited. “Arisen from the dead! Brought back to life by none other than the legendary Hoshi!”

A brief thought crosses your mind about having to listen to this guy all summer, but you quickly shoo it away. You won’t have to deal with it for the whole three months, right? “Who… who is Hoshi?”

“Me!” The voice answers, sounding a little too smug. “But it’s really just an alias. You can call me Soonyoung. I’m at Twin Peaks tower, west of yours!”

You spin around your cabin, looking through the windows cluelessly - how long have you been asleep, it’s practically afternoon - until you see a very small silhouette of another tower in the distance. You nod, then realize Soonyoung can’t see you. “Oh. Cool.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?” Soonyoung asks, but his tone is light, breezy. You blink, reciting your name to him in a daze. “Pretty! So, what brings you out here?”

You weren’t expecting that question. “What?”

Soonyoung giggles into the radio. “Everyone comes out here for some reason. Like… Jihoon says it’s ‘cause it helps him write music. And Joshua loves the outdoors, so… what’s your reason?”

“You…” you start, not exactly wanting to tell a stranger the reason you ran away from everything you know. “Do you normally ask this many questions?”

“Yeah!”

You feel yourself sigh, already tired again.

“I… just wanted to get away for a while,” you end up saying. A half-truth. “I live in the city.”

“No way,” Soonyoung gasps excitedly. “Me too! I wonder if both of us have ever been walking and, like, passed each other without knowing…”

This isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you thought of escaping.

DAY TWO.

The next morning, you dedicate time to getting a little more settled into your home for the next few months. You didn’t bring a lot of decor - you didn’t think you needed any - but even seeing your blanket on the bed and a few books you need to catch up on reading stacked on the desk makes the place feel a little bit more like you. You eventually reach the journal you packed (that Minghao made you pack) and stare at it like it might do something. Like it might tell you to write again, or like it might tell you to leave everything behind. You don’t really know what you want from it.

A sing-songed version of your name comes from your radio and you blink away from the journal, set it down on the desk. “Good morning!” Soonyoung says from the other end, and you feel yourself take a deep breath as you pick up your radio and press down the button so he can hear you.

“Morning, Soonyoung,” you respond, calm compared to his excitement. 

“So… what are your plans for today?”

“Um,” you pause, brows furrowed, looking towards the direction of his tower even though you know he can’t see you. “Looking out for fires?”

“That’s boring,” is Soonyoung’s immediate response, and you laugh a little.

“Kinda my job for a while.”

And listen, you’ve known Soonyoung for less than a full 24 hours, but even before your brain really comprehends what he’s saying you know you’re not going to like it. “Wait, that reminds me,” he says, tone of his voice a little less overexcited puppy. “What did you do before this? Or, like, what’s your career? I mean, you don’t have to answer, I just thought it could be a way for us to get to know each other…”

His voice fades away for the split second you remember a little too much all at once, but somehow your voice still sounds put together when you speak. “Nothing special,” you say. There’s a pause when you don’t elaborate any further, but instead of asking about it, Soonyoung changes the subject.

“Okay!” he says, back to a more playful tone. “Anyways, I asked about your plans ‘cause I kind of need you to do something for me.”

“Already asking favors?” you tease. “We just met, Soonyoung.”

You hear him laugh, loud and hearty, and it’s contagious even through a radio line so you feel your own smile pull at your lips. “One of the other lookouts found some teenagers with fireworks,” he informs you. “I need you to meet him and get the fireworks from him.”

Your feet are already in your shoes, one halfway tied. “You can’t do this?”

Soonyoung’s voice is strangely thoughtful, but you catch a hint of mischief at the end of his sentence. “I would, but Jihoonie said he’d eat me if I tried to see him again and I think he’s serious this time.”

He tells you where the other lookout - Jihoon - should be and gives you a quick lesson on how to properly use your map to get there. You’re not really excited for another hike this early on (you’re still sore from even getting up here) but by the time you meet the halfway mark you’re convinced it’s not that bad. It’s neither long nor challenging, and… well, Soonyoung’s insistent on keeping you company the whole time. 

When you see what looks like a guy at the edge of a now-abandoned camp, you tell Soonyoung you’ll radio him when you’re on your way back to your tower. “Hey,” you call out as you get closer. The man looks up at you, his eyes sharp but not unkind. “Jihoon?”

“Yeah,” he replies. Under his cap you notice that his hair is a gentle silver, almost purple. He’s dressed casually, like you, and you suppose it’s a given since there’s no exact dress code for this job.  “You’re the newbie?”

You didn’t know people knew about you. “I.. I guess,” you say, then tell him your name.

“Cool,” Jihoon says, voice flat like he’s distracted. He picks up the bag next to his feet and hands it to you. “Take these. Thanks.”

He starts to walk away, down a trail opposite the direction you came, but you think of earlier, when Soonyoung asked about your job (or when he didn’t). You call after Jihoon, hesitate, but then opt to make this quick since he looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Have you and Soonyoung… known each other for long?”

Jihoon turns around. He shrugs, then nods. “We met in college, a few years ago.”

“What kind of person is he?”

You watch in vague amusement as Jihoon’s nose scrunches up, but the small smile on his face refuses to hide and it makes you giggle. “Really annyoing,” he tells you, then pauses for a second like he’s looking for the right words, “kind of overwhelming sometimes. But he’s good. He’s someone you want around.”

Someone you want around, your brain repeats to you. You nod with a friendly smile as you haphazardly stuff the fireworks in your hiking bag. “Okay. Thank you.”

Jihoon offers an acknowledging nod of his own before continuing on his way back to his tower. You’re about five minutes into your hike back to yours when your radio sounds from your pocket with a now-familiar voice.

“Are you on your way back?” Soonyoung asks. “You forgot to tell me!”

“Sorry, yeah, I am now. I was talkin’ to Jihoon for a second.”

“Really? That’s weird. He rarely talks to anyone, especially strangers. What’d you talk about?”

You can’t help the small smile that lands on your face as you speak. “Stuff to blackmail you with.”

You think you hear Soonyoung’s groan all the way from his tower, and your smile only grows when it turns into a laugh.

DAY FIVE.

The clouds look dark today.

They haven’t covered the sun completely yet, but they’re closing in fast. You hope that it rains, already sick and tired of the disgusting heat, but also. Something else.

Rainy days always used to be the best to write, your brain supplies to you. You brave a glance at the still-unopened journal on the desk, thinking that maybe…

Your radio turning on drags you away from the crack in metaphorical door, coming at the perfect time as if to tell you that you’re not ready yet. You listen to it, grab the radio, murmur a greeting to Soonyoung.

“It’s getting pretty dark out, huh?” He says. He must be looking at the sky, too.

“Yeah,” you hum. “Hopefully the storm isn’t too bad.”

The line goes quiet, but you know that Soonyoung’s still there even if he isn’t saying anything. The knowledge comforts you, just a little.

“Well... got any rainy day stories?”

DAY SEVENTEEN.

“So, Soonyoung,” you call into your radio as you step outside. You’ve taken advantage of the small balcony around the entire cabin, setting up a few chairs you found in the storage unit at the bottom of the tower (just in case someone stops by, you tell yourself) and a small table you weren’t using inside. The nights are hot but still relaxing, and you find yourself sitting outside often, catching up on reading or taking in the stars. 

“I can’t believe you radioed me first,” Soonyoung responds, and you hear the smugness in his voice. “I’m so happy!”

Soonyoung somehow almost always manages to be with you in the nights, too, even if not physically. Being away from the urban civilization you’re used to has been a little difficult to adjust to, but you feel significantly less alone whenever you hear him calling you. You tell him to be quiet even though both of you are laughing. The distant crickets make your chest warm.

“What do you do? You didn’t tell me before,” You ask him after a second. There’s a small wave of anxiety that rushes over you at the idea that he might call you out about when he asked you the same thing. That was two weeks ago, though, you think, and Soonyoung wouldn’t. You’re sure he’s been able to tell that it’s a touchy subject. You’re not as discreet as you think you are, even if (and you’ve learned this the past few weeks) Soonyoung’s a bit more on the oblivious side sometimes.

“I dance!” 

Somehow, despite having not even seen what he looks like, it’s fitting. “Like… teach, or choreograph, or…”

“A little of everything,” Soonyoung tells you, and then starts elaborating. His voice echoes through your radio and you look up at the stars as you listen to him, trying to map out constellations from memory. He sounds so excited to simply talk about it, you can’t imagine what he must look like when he’s actually on stage. You hope you get to see it one day.

“You’ll have to teach me something sometime,” you say once he’s finished, voicing your thoughts. With a giggle that sounds like the stars above you, he tells you he’d love to.

A moment of quiet passes, spent focusing on the tiny specks of fireflies you see in the field around your tower and feeling the summer breeze as it passes. The words slip out of your mouth with much less resistance than you thought they would.

“I used to write,” you murmur into your radio. It takes you a moment to register the heavy beat of your heart, like you just got back from a run.

“Used to?” Soonyoung asks, curious but soft.

“For now,” you answer. The ache you’ve become familiar with throbs in your chest. “Hopefully not forever.”

It’s not the whole story - not even close - but you figure you might be able to tell him with time. The thought stresses you out even when you have nothing to stress about, and you think Soonyoung is psychic because he says, next, “the stars are really pretty tonight.”

You’re not looking at the sky when you answer. Your head is tilted in the direction of his tower. 

“They really are,” you say.

DAY THIRTY-THREE.

You’ve fallen into a bit of a routine with Soonyoung. 

Not a day goes by where you don’t talk to him - the one day you radioed and he didn’t pick up you genuinely thought something happened to him, seconds away from calling a park ranger. Right before you actually did it, though, he picked up his radio and said he had been taking a nap.

(His voice was a little groggy from sleep, sounded like he was pouting whether he meant to or not and you’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t make your heart skip a few beats - but if anyone asked, you’d definitely lie about it.)

One of you calls the other around the same time every morning and you don’t put down your radio until the sun is well behind the mountains. You’ve grown used to his presence, in a way, even if you can’t really feel him with you (though sometimes you swear you can). It’s comforting to have him out there with you, and it’s been so long since you’ve talked to someone the way you do with Soonyoung… you find yourself looking forward to every morning, waiting for when you hear him over your radio.

Today is no different.

Well, in an unrelated way, it is - you have to hike to a supply box to get your surplus of food for the next month and a half you have left. But even as you’re doing inventory of what you have left in your cabin on a piece of paper, you’re waiting for Soonyoung’s usual good morning. It comes as always, makes you smile when you hear it.

“Good morning!” 

You leave your scratch paper on your desk and reach for your radio. “Morning,” you say after you’ve pressed the button down. 

“So…” Soonyoung trails off. “Supply drop day.”

“Yeah,” you reply, sitting on your bed.

“Both of us are getting crates of food today…”

What is he getting at? “Uh-huh…?”

“Both of us… getting supplies… from the same place.”

A confused laugh leaves your lips. “Soonyoung, what is your point?”

Even for as often as you talk to him, you’re still always surprised when he starts yelling. “Let’s meet up!” he exclaims, obviously excited, and it clicks in your head.

“Oh my God, can we do that?” 

“Yeah!” Soonyoung sounds like he’s grinning, smile palpable in his voice. “If we pull some strings with the other lookouts and get hiking at the right time, it’s totally possible.”

Holy shit. Your heart is beating wildly, butterflies swarming around it at the thought of meeting Soonyoung in person. “Okay,” you tell him, noting that you sound a little breathless. “Okay, yeah, let’s do it.”

It takes a few minutes to work everything out - the supply boxes should be dropped off by midday, so you can leave your tower around then and get to the drop location in a little over an hour. Soonyoung has to leave earlier than you since he’s farther away, but if everything goes well the two of you should get to the drop location close to the same time, margin of error small. You radio Jihoon to cover for you while you’re out, and he agrees, although he sounds a bit miffed.

When you finally leave for your hike, you’re not expecting how quiet it is. Soonyoung’s usually there to cover it up with his voice - you don’t hike often (you’ve not had to, given your job for the summer is to watch for fires) but whenever you have he’s been there to keep you company. You plug in your earphones about halfway through your trip just to drown out the quiet, something more to listen to than just trees and the sound of your own footsteps.

Eventually you make it to the supply box, and, well. There’s a guy. Standing in front of a long, green box - you think you see lookout tower names engraved ever few inches: Thorofare, Cottonwood, Twin Peaks. Packing some ready-to-eat meals into his backpack.

Holy shit, Soonyoung? your brain automatically asks, and it sends your heart spiraling up and down. You’re not sure what you thought he looked like, but it wasn’t this. Tall, lean - wait, you don’t even know if this is actually him yet.

Before you can think too much about it, you call out, voice tentative. “Are you… Soonyoung?”

The man turns around, shakes his head with a kind smile. “No,” he says. “I’m Joshua.”

You think about throwing yourself into the river by your tower when you get back for absolutely no reason. Somehow you manage a polite smile and a gentle sorry.

“No, don’t apologize, you’re fine!” Joshua chirps, adjusting the cap on his head. “You’re looking for him?”

You pause. Those aren’t the exact words you would use, but they’re not technically wrong, so you nod. After all, you don’t know what he looks like (you probably should have asked him before both of you left, but you weren’t expecting another person to be here).

“Please don’t tell me he got lost again,” Joshua says, suddenly looking tired, and you look back at him wide-eyed because... again? Has this happened before?

“No,” you tell him. “No, I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Since we both have to pick up supplies he thought it’d be cool if we met up in person.”

Joshua sighs, seemingly relieved, then continues packing what’s left of his supplies into his backpack as he hums. “That’s weird.”

“What is?”

He shrugs. “Soonyoung likes the outdoors, yeah, but the supply box is a pretty far hike from his tower. I think the last few summers he’s had them delivered.”

Oh, you think, and maybe say out loud, because then Joshua’s looking back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. 

“He must really like you to come all the way out here,” he tells you, and you laugh like it might get rid of all the thoughts popping up in your mind that you keep telling yourself to stop thinking about.

“And yet,” you say wistfully, looking towards the horizon. “I still come second to Jihoon.”

This time Joshua laughs, a friendly sound, and the two of you fall into a playful conversation. He’s somewhat a superior of yours, though not by a far gap - as the lookout who’s been on the job the longest, he oversees the rest of you (which is you, Soonyoung, Jihoon, and a few others you have yet to come across). You get along with him easily and it’s weird to think that if you hadn’t gone through what you did a few months ago you wouldn’t be here talking to him, establishing what could be a new friendship. You wonder if that’s a new step towards healing, finding a way to be grateful even if it was horrible.

You talk to Joshua for a while until he says he should get back to his tower. You nod, tell him goodbye (and thanks for his company) and he starts to walk away -

“Shua!”

A burst of platinum blonde hair rushes past you from the opposite direction you came from, heading for Joshua. The new guy drops a bag at his feet and almost softly crashes into Joshua, who has this look on his face you can’t really decipher.

“Hey, Soonyoung,” he says, and you blink.

Soonyoung, like… your Soonyoung? The Soonyoung you’ve been talking to for weeks?

You watch as the two hug, Soonyoung excited to see Joshua and completely ignoring you (though you’re not sure he’s doing it intentionally). All you can do is stand there. This is him, your brain keeps telling you. This is the guy.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” Soonyoung exclaims, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “How are you? How have things been?”

Joshua shrugs, a small smile on his face as he puts a gentle hand on Soonyoung’s head and starts… petting. “I’ve been good, same old deal. I know that you’ve been doing good too, though, as far as I’ve seen from your reports.”

Soonyoung beams at the praise and you take note of it in the back of your mind (you also note the way Joshua’s treating him like a toddler and how it’s working). He opens his mouth to say something else but looks around and meets your eyes - for a second there’s nothing at all, but then you think you see an exclamation mark actually pop above his head.

The yell of your name is so loud it makes you jump. “Oh my God,” Soonyoung whines, falling to his knees dramatically. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you!”

“This is the first time you’ve seen me,” you say. You can’t seem to hold back your smile.

Joshua excuses himself (again) and finally moves on his way, says he’s in Thorofare lookout if anything happens. The sun is mellow on your skin as you look at Soonyoung, take him in - light hair, warm eyes, tan skin. His smile matches your own. A breeze shifts by, slow and sweet.

“Hi,” you say.

Soonyoung grins.

“Hey.”

-

So the bag you saw Soonyoung drop on the ground before was, in fact, for a picnic.

He didn’t bring a lot of food (the whole point of the hike was to get supply boxes anyways) aside from a few candy bars he’d saved for today. He did bring a blanket, however, and the two of you set everything up on the edge of a rock not too far away from the drop location, under some trees. It looks over a small ravine, a stream cutting through at the bottom. 

The time goes by like it was never there in the first place, spent talking and laughing. Soonyoung is just as animated in person as you thought he’d be, telling stories wildly as the two of you snack away a portion of your supplies. You know the two of you don’t have much time together, given how late it already was when Soonyoung arrived and both of your hikes back to your respective towers, but it’s still… refreshing, almost, to be with him like this, to finally get a piece of him you didn’t before. To hear him without the crackle of the radio and to see him.

To see him.

Something stirs in your chest when you look at him lying back on the blanket, arms supporting his head with his eyes closed. The sun lights up his skin in a golden glow, like honey, and the dark roots growing into his blonde hair are somehow endearing. The breath leaves your lungs when you finally label him as pretty. You hope you can blame the heat in your cheeks on the sun.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Soonyoung sighs, still not opening his eyes. You almost reach out to brush the hair away from his face, but a breeze comes by and does it for you. You hope it’s not a sign.

“It would be nice, huh,” you murmur in response. You finally break your gaze from Soonyoung and lean back on your hands, soaking up the feeling of the blue sky.

It’s now that you remember what Joshua had said earlier about Soonyoung usually getting his supplies delivered, and you turn back to him. “Hey, before you got to the supply box, Joshua and I were talking.” Soonyoung hums in acknowledgement. “Is the hike from your tower to here really that bad?”

His voice strains as he stretches, opening his eyes to look at you. “I mean, yeah, it’s a bitch of a hike to take sometimes. But it’s not really hard except for a few spots, just long.”

You furrow your brows. When you agreed to meet him, you didn’t think it’d be this much trouble for him. “And you came all this way so we could… what, sit here and eat? Like we do most of the time anyways? Just separately?”

Soonyoung pouts at you and you feel personally attacked. “Food tastes good when you’re with other people.”

You give him a soft, semi-playful glare, and Soonyoung offers a small giggle. You turn back towards the view in front of you.

“Did you not want me to come down?” He asks, and he doesn’t sound… sad, really, more observant. Like he wants to know where you’re at.

“No,” you answer almost immediately (Jesus, your brain says). “I just… it’s a long trip. It doesn’t really seem like it’s worth the effort.”

Like I’m worth the effort, you think to yourself. 

You hear Soonyoung shuffle behind you and turn around to look at him again, finding him sitting up straight. “It is to me,” he tells you, and there’s something in his eyes that holds you in your spot. The tips of his fingers brush against yours on the blanket. You’d look down if you didn’t think you’d miss something. “I wanted to.”

In a second, it clicks.

-

It’s not much longer until Soonyoung needs to start heading back. The two of you get your things together, and you help him pack up the picnic supplies he brought. When everything’s said and done and the two of you are back by the supply box, there’s a second of uncharacteristic quiet that falls over you.

“Let me know when you get back,” you say after a moment. Soonyoung grins.

“You’re worried about me!” he swoons, and you hit him on the shoulder playfully, but don’t deny it. It can be dangerous out there, and even if Soonyoung has been out here longer than you, anything can happen. 

“Just radio me, okay?”

Soonyoung smiles, something a little softer from before. He nods. “I will. You be safe too.”

You nod in return, taking a few steps back towards the trail that leads back to your tower. “Talk to you later, Hoshi.”

The last you see of him before you turn around is the grin on his face.

DAY THIRTY-FOUR.

It feels like forever since you’ve been here.

A window is open and welcomes a distant ambiance of the forest around you, trees and birds and animals. The journal you brought with you is open to the first page, but remains untouched - nothing on the pages. At least, not yet.

(The not yet you always tell yourself seems closer, this time, not so far away. Within reach, or at least within reason.)

Soonyoung had called in that the hike from yesterday had worn him out and he needed a nap. You had laughed fondly at how tired he sounded, told him to sleep well and that you’d be waiting for him. And you feel the words, right at your fingertips, the way the rest and wait to be written. Their presence is both terrifying and reassuring. 

You don’t think they’ll be able to bleed out correctly, not the way they used to since it’s been so long. But they’re there, in your mind, in your heart. 

You pick up the pen you got out, feel the weight of it as you click it a few times. You tap it on the desk once, twice, and then.

You take a deep breath and start to write.

DAY SIXTY-FOUR.

“Are you lookin’ at the fire?”

Your eyes leave the page of your book at Soonyoung’s voice crackling from the radio, looking around your cabin windows to see that, oh, there is a fire. You’d kind of forgotten that it’s… literally your job. At least there are multiple lookouts.

You fold the corner of the page you’re on as a makeshift bookmark before closing the book and setting it down on your bed as you stand to get your radio. You grab a can of soda from the mini-fridge you’ve started to utilize (as best you can, given it does a mediocre job at keeping things cool) before walking out onto the deck, sitting in one of the chairs you set up. “Now I am,” you tell Soonyoung as you adjust the chair so it faces the direction of the fire. You think you’re the closest lookout to it - which makes the fact that you didn’t notice it even worse - but not in any danger. The smoke paints the evening sky red-orange, washing over the purples and blues the sun used earlier as it set. “You’ve called it in?”

“Yeah, told Josh, who told the higher-ups,” Soonyoung responds, voice strangely… solemn? He sighs his next words. “They’ll probably send a crew in for suppression by morning.”

“Is there a reason you sound sad about putting a potentially dangerous forest fire out?” You tease, cracking open your soda and taking a sip. The carbonation feels good in your mouth, pops on your tongue.

“I’m not!” Soonyoung denies after some sputtering, and you laugh. “Just… ugh, looking at it - I’ve worked here every summer for the past, like, five years, and I’ve only ever seen two fires. Three, counting this one.” His voice gains a certain softness, like he’s lost in thought. “I don’t want the place to burn down or anything, but… don’t you think it’s kind of beautiful?”

It’s a little morally ambiguous, but as you look at the distant, licking flames you have to agree. In the dark, it’s vibrant, more than just ashy smoke and the smell of burning - it glows red, flushes out silhouettes of the trees in between it and you.

“I guess it is,” you hum into your radio as you stare at it.

“So. What should we name it?”

“The fire?”

“Yes,” Soonyoung says, dramatic as always. “She needs a name! I’ve always given them names, but I’ll let you do the honor this time.”

There’s something sweet in the way he offers you the chance to name it, and you try not to dwell on it too much. “Ah,” you start, thinking for a moment. “Barbara. The Barbara Fire.”

Soonyoung howls out a laugh and it’s infectious; you feel the tugging of your lips into a grin. “That is the worst thing that has ever come out of your mouth,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “We are not naming it the Barbara Fire.”

You huff out a fake whine. “Come on, it’s just Barb! She’s beautiful.”

“But deadly,” Soonyoung adds in a voice that sounds like it came straight out of a crime documentary. It makes you giggle, the two of you throwing around silly, stupid names.

“Okay, okay,” you say after a few minutes. “Then… hmm, the Hoshi Fire.”

There’s a long, long pause, and you hold down the button to your radio again. “Uh oh, is he broken?”

Soonyoung’s voice comes through, joking, but you sense a pinch of sincerity. “You want to name a raging forest fire after me… I feel like I shouldn’t be happy but I kind of am.”

You remember to push the button as you laugh, looking directly at the fire and shouting, “I hereby dub thee… the Hoshi Fire!” as loud as you can.

After the laughter dies down, for a second, there’s quiet - not awkward or for the sake of a bit, just quiet. Soonyoung’s not telling a story, you’re not giving witty comebacks. It’s just the two of you and the fire, alone in the forest.

It breaks eventually. Soft, gentle. “I’m glad you’re out here, you know,” Soonyoung says.

His words make you stiffen and relax all at once, and almost on instinct you look in the direction of his tower. You can’t really see the silhouette - the sun too far gone, taking the last of its light with it - but you know it’s there, can pinpoint exactly where it should be. You hope Soonyoung’s looking over at you, too.

And even if the reason you’re here in the first place is still a tender bruise to be pressed, you find yourself recovering a little more every day. “I am, too,” you respond. “I… I wish you were over here.”

It’s a roundabout way to say I miss you, but a part of you thinks neither of you are ready for something that explicit. You reach a hand out in the direction of Soonyoung’s tower, grasping at it like it might bring him to you. It’s not as if you can’t meet up with him again, but… between the distance and the fact that there’s an actual fire to keep your eye on, it certainly wouldn’t be easy. This is the closest you can get for now.

“I wish I was too,” Soonyoung says. You close your eyes to picture him, pretty smile and fond eyes. “We could hang out, like last time.”

“Without the radios,” you add. 

“We could, um… you know.”

His words make you giggle, and you feel a little lucky that you’re not holding down the button. Your heart is pounding in your chest, nervous but stable, secure, as you reply. A welcomed beat, even if startling.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. Your soda sits forgotten, half-empty, on the floor of the deck by your feet. You don’t bother paying attention to the fire. “What could we do?”

Soonyoung groans and this time you laugh pushing the button so he can hear you, warm and affectionate. “Don’t tease me! You know what I’m talking about.”

You do. “What could we do, Soonyoung?”

There’s a pause, but you know he’s still there.

“Well,” he says eventually. “Let me tell you.”

DAY SEVENTY-SIX.

The fire’s gotten big.

You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised by it - it’s a wildfire, they’re not exactly easy to contain, but seeing it up close like this is vastly different from being in a city and barely even noticing the smoke. It is larger than life out here, consuming more and more of the forest each day. The last few days you’ve spent inside due to the low visibility (though it’s not as if you take a hike every day anyways). It makes you wonder if it’s safe to stay out here.

“...Hey,”  Soonyoung radios in. “I have a question for you.”

Rationally, you know whatever it is, it can’t be that serious. But your heart picks up pace anyways, beats a little harder as you pick up your radio to respond. “Look, it was Jihoon’s idea to use the fireworks, I promise neither of us knew it would start the fire.”

Soonyoung sputters out a laugh and you match him, feeling yourself calm down. “I’ll… I’ll ask Jihoon about that later, but - I really do have something to ask you.”

You lay down in your bed, unmade and messy. “Is it… bad?”

“I don’t think so,” Soonyoung responds. “Maybe?”

“Okay…” you say, timid. “Shoot.”

“When you first got here, I asked why you took the job,” he says, and you nod to yourself, remembering the first call you got from him. “You just… never really responded. I get it if it’s, like, a touchy subject, I don’t want to pressure you at all…”

“No,” you interrupt before you realize what you’re saying. You take a deep breath, Soonyoung waits. “No, it’s probably… it might be good to talk about it. I’ll tell you.”

He murmurs an okay, tells you to take your time and you do. It’s not like you’re scared to tell him - you’ve come to trust him, you know he won’t judge you for anything that happened or think any differently of you. You’re not even sure that’s why it’s hard for you to talk about - rather than any sort of outside force that might affect you, it’s more… more of a part of you that you felt you lost. It’s more coming to terms - even after these months - and going through the motions. It’s scary to talk about disconnection, especially from the one thing you loved (love?) more than anything.

“I… write,” is how you start, looking at the ceiling of your cabin as you speak. “Or wrote, maybe? I’m an author. I have a few books published. Writing is something I’ve loved since I was so young, it’s… a part of me, really. It’s special to me.

“When I finally got a manager and a publishing company and all that official stuff, I was so excited. It was like I was finally living my dream. I wrote my first book and got it published and it did really well, so my management asked me to do another, and I did. Then they asked for one after that, and I didn’t… it felt too soon, in a way. Rushed. But I guess I did it because I had to, because I figured this just came with being a writer and not everything is what you want it to be - and I didn’t want to risk losing what I had wanted almost my entire life.”

You take a moment to steady yourself, note the tremble of your fingers and take a few deep breaths. Soonyoung waits for you, patient and kind. “It went like that for a while, and I lost touch with writing. I stopped loving the only thing I knew how to love. I was so detached from it. A few months before I took this job my manager set up a press conference for me, and I… kind of… had a breakdown. At the conference. So I’m out here to run away for a second. Be away from it all.”

The quiet that follows doesn’t make you nervous, really, but you’re still waiting for a reply of any sort. Even if it’s the common oh or it’ll be okay that you got from distant friends and relatives who didn’t know what was really going on. But Soonyoung was patient with you, so you can be patient with him.

“Have you written since?” He asks after a minute, and your eyes flash over to the journal on your desk. One page has the familiar strokes and loops of your handwriting, written after you met Soonyoung in person.

“Only once,” you respond, truthful.

“When you start to write again… will you show me?”

And for some reason the question is so tender, filled to the brim with something you want to name. It makes tears spring to your eyes as you look out over the rising fire, trying not to let your voice shake too much as you reply.

(Maybe it’s because he said when and not if, maybe it’s because he didn’t tell you it’ll be okay, maybe it’s because it’s him and not someone else telling you the same thing.)

“Yeah,” you say, letting go of the button to sniff. “Yeah, I will. If you let me see one of your dances.”

You hear Soonyoung’s smile through the radio as he tells you it’s a deal.

DAY SEVENTY-EIGHT.

For the first time since you started working, someone who isn’t Soonyoung calls you through the radio (not counting the time you radioed Jihoon to make sure he was still alive, because you only saw him once and hadn’t heard from him since then). You hear the familiar click that tells you someone’s on the station, and you’re fully expecting Soonyoung’s voice to light up your cabin the way it always does. Instead, Joshua’s voice rings through.

“You there?” He asks after a comfortable call of your name, and you pick up your radio.

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s been a while,” you respond, and Joshua hums. “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve… been,” he tells you, which earns a small laugh. “Anyways, I called in to let you know that they’re having trouble controlling the fire -”

You take a look at the giant flume of smoke north of your tower, nodding to yourself. “I can see that.”

Joshua tells you to be quiet. You hear the friendly smile in his voice.

“There’ll be an evacuation team here within the next two days,” he says. “Maybe less, shouldn’t be more. They’re gonna get all the lookouts evacuated.”

Oh. Evacuation? That means… the city. Your apartment, back to your family and friends. You’d forgotten an entire world exists outside of the bubble you created for yourself.

“Okay,” you say slowly, still looking at the fire. “I assume you’ve told the other lookouts?”

“I’ve got a few more to call, but other than that, yeah, everyone’s covered. I told Soonyoung and Jihoon first,” Joshua tells you, and you blink at the fact that you didn’t even have to ask. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Yeah. Stay safe, Josh.”

You sit for a while after that, trying to cope with the feeling in your chest. You… you feel better about everything, about writing, for sure, but. But. It’s cut short, even if only by a little over a week. You haven’t even started packing anything up - so much of you is strewn around the cabin, in the field around your tower, in the trees of the forest you hiked through. You don’t think you’re ready to say goodbye to the place you’ve made your home and the people (person, your heart whispers) with it. 

The sun starts to set and the fire grows. You sit on your bed and look at the things you’ve made your own, a sunken, unfinished emotion spreading through you. Eventually it is Soonyoung’s voice that comes from your radio, low and humorous.

“The Hoshi Fire can’t be stopped…” he murmurs, and you laugh despite the loss you feel. 

“Please,” you groan into your radio after you’ve grabbed it. “We’re getting evacuated!”

Soonyoung giggles, something mischievous that makes your heart warm with slow appreciation. “I can’t believe it’s ending so soon,” you say, standing up to walk around aimlessly.

“Yeah, the summer went by super fast, huh?” Soonyoung replies. “I’m kind of excited, though. I’ve missed a proper dance studio.”

That’s… oh. 

A current of mild surprise rolls through you and you think you physically feel your jaw drop, just a little. That - that hurt. More than you want it to, more than you think it should - but it’s... fine. You’ve only known Soonyoung for a few months, it’s not like…

You realize you haven’t responded and open your mouth on purpose this time. “I wish we could share the sentiment, Hoshi,” you joke, hoping it doesn’t sound too stiff. 

If Soonyoung notices anything, he doesn’t say it. Only laughs, sweet and genuine. “I’m sure you’ll find something to yearn for just as I yearn for dance,” he says dramatically. You laugh, forced, because yeah, you will. Maybe you already have.

DAY EIGHTY.

Evacuation day.

Last day in your tower. Last day in the forest. Last day of the job you took to escape, to heal. It’s spent packing up the things you brought with you, throwing away everything else. Joshua said helicopters would be touching down at two points - Twin Peaks lookout and Mule Point lookout. Twin Peaks is Soonyoung’s tower, and if you planned it out right, you could probably get there and leave with him.

You tell yourself that the reason you can’t is because Mule Point is closer. Safer. They’re evacuating you for a reason.

“Hey.”

Speak of the devil, you think, grabbing your radio from its charging port. “Hi.”

“So,” Soonyoung says. For the first time since you’ve known him, he seems awkward. “Evacuation day.”

“Yessir…”

“What evacuation point are you hiking to?”

You pause, hesitate like you’re about to say something you shouldn’t. “Mule Point,” you manage to get out. “It’s closer,” you say after, your brain telling you to justify it, explain.

“What did the Hoshi Fire ever do to you?” Soonyoung huffs out through a laugh, and it sounds so unaffected that you feel that ache from before again. After a second, he adds, “so… this’ll be the last we talk. At least for a while.”

That realization hits you like a brick and the sting behind your eyes seems normal - regardless of whatever was built between you and Soonyoung or what lead you out here in the first place, it’s so sad that it’s ending. “Yeah,” you say quietly. Everything is packed, you just need to get hiking. “I, um. Is it cheesy to say thank you?”

“Maybe,” Soonyoung chuckles. “But it’ll also make me feel really good, so…”

You feel yourself calm down and let out your own small giggle. Maybe it was always meant to end this way, a little too soon, a little too sad. “Really… thanks, Soonyoung. I think it would’ve been worse for me if I got the silence I came out here for. I’m glad I had you to talk to.”

“Thank you, too,” Soonyoung says back. “I hope… you write again. I’ll talk to you later.”

The mention of it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to, and you feel the smallest of smiles on your lips. “Yeah. Later.”

The radio clicks off and that’s the last you hear from Soonyoung.

EPILOGUE.

It’s hard to come back.

From nature, from Soonyoung - everything, really. To go from trees and fires and talking every night back to car horns, busy sidewalks and your own apartment. It’s weird to wake up and not see the immediate shine of the sun through your windows. But you come back, slowly get used to the life you had before.

And you start writing.

Given - you get back in August only start writing again in October, but you write. Little by little, page after page. Maybe not every day, like you used to, but the words are back and they are eager to get out, leave their mark as your work. You stand up to your management (with Minghao’s support) and take control of your own writing schedule. The pressure from before leaves. Writing becomes special more than ever, returns as the one thing you never get truly tired of.

Minghao asks about the job, your summer. You tell him it was easy and peaceful, and that you’re thankful for the time. You mention the other lookouts. You mention Soonyoung. Only in passing, though. 

(Minghao definitely suspects something, but even if he asked, you wouldn’t tell him much.)

Sometimes you allow yourself to think of him - when you got back, you looked for a Soonyoung in the multiple dance studios in the city, but since you didn’t have a last name or any proper title, nothing came up. After that, you gave up, but he still shows up in your thoughts from time to time, bright blonde hair (the roots growing in) and glowing smile. It’s cold out, now, so you hope he isn’t getting sick and that he’s staying warm.

You’re reminded of just how cold it is when you have to brace the outside world to get your mail. There’s not even any wind, just an undeniable cold, and it makes your nose burn and eyes water as you walk the short trek to your mailbox. You find your slot and push your key in, unlocking it and gathering your mail. Most of it is junk, but you could have sworn something you ordered was supposed to come today -

“Excuse me?”

You turn your head to the voice and find a man walking towards you, his head turned down towards a small piece of paper. His voice sounds familiar, but you figure it must just be a neighbor you haven’t spoken to in a while. You turn your body to him, waiting for him to look up from the note so you can place a name on him. “Do you know where I can find an author…”

He looks up.

It’s Soonyoung.

He looks a little different - his hair is shorter, dyed black instead of the platinum you remember from last July. But it’s definitely him. The longer you stare at each other the wider his smile gets, and you stand, speechless. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world. Your heart starts to race, warms you up beneath your jacket.

“Found you,” Soonyoung grins. You can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “You did.”

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #CRIES I'M SO EXCITED #THIS FIC IS MY BABY I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY IT!!!! #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung imagine #svt hoshi x reader #svt hoshi imagine #seventeen hoshi x reader #seventeen hoshi imagine #hoshi x reader #hoshi imagine

[brockadoodles]

I want your midnights - b. boeser

AN: This was named something else, but i didn’t update the doc name soooo, new year’s day came on shuffle and I was like that works I guess. Here ya go.

Word Count: 3079

Warnings: None

Brock didn’t make the All-Star game this season, something you were honestly grateful for. You would have loved to go with him to St. Louis, celebrate his success as he represented the Canucks, but the selfish part of you was relieved he was getting the entire bye week to rest. The season had been emotionally and physically draining. Between his injury, the ups and downs of the team, and moving in together it had begun to take its toll on both of you. 

You spent the week together in Vancouver, finally taking the time to pack up the Christmas decorations. Lights forgotten about as January came and went with you spending nights alone, Brock’s schedule being mostly away games. Waiting for Brock to come home from away games was different now that you lived together. Instead of restless nights up where you had to wait in anticipation of seeing him the next day, you got to wake up to him coming home and wrapping his arms around you, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulders before you both drifted off to sleep together. 

You were in pure bliss, the novelty of the “honeymoon” stage of your relationship still going strong. You loved living with Brock, and you felt especially spoiled getting to spend a week with him, no practices or games, no distractions about work, just the two of you together. The last time you got this much time together was the previous summer, when you took a week off of work to visit him and meet his family in Minnesota. 

Minnesota gave you a version of Brock that you had never seen before, someone who was in a perpetual state of relaxation. Brock was happiest during the summer, he loved spending time back home with his childhood friends, going on long drives and camping out at the lake. Most importantly, he liked spending as much time with his dad as possible, especially with the future being so uncertain. You got to see him smile all the time, and you fell more in love with the little details about him you had never seen back when you were in Vancouver with him during the season. 

The Minnesota trip changed your relationship, a shift in seriousness and feelings surrounding the future that terrified you yet felt natural at the same time. It hit you suddenly on your last night there. You were sitting in the living room of his parent’s house, watching as he held his nephew in his arms, smiling down at the little baby boy. You realized that Brock was the embodiment of everything you could ever want in a partner. He cared, not just about you but about everyone around him. He was passionate and multifaceted in ways people that didn’t know him wouldn’t see. 

It was nearing the end of the All-Star break, with practices set to resume in two days, the playoff push for the Canucks coming back in full force. Brock was rested and at ease after the week at home with you and the dogs. He was ready to head back into the season, hopefully helping lead his team headfirst into the finish line. He was confident this year, the team had a wealth of young talent and they were finding a consistency that felt good. He felt like he could make an impact even after spending the beginning of the year out injured. He also had a calming factor in his life that he now got to come home to everynight, you. 

Brock was so in love with you that sometimes he worried it was too much. When he met you, he knew there was a pull between you, something he was eager to explore as he asked you on that first date over a year ago. One date turned into many, with records of late night FaceTime calls while he was away, and nights wrapped up in one another when he was in Vancouver. 

You can tell something is off almost instantly when you wake up. In your semi conscious state you reach for Brock’s side of the bed, missing the warmth of his body that is normally still wrapped up in yours, arms and legs entangled. You shift your body slightly, curling the blanket further around you as you let your eyes adjust to the darkness of the bedroom, allowing yourself to fully wake up before getting out of bed to find Brock. It was late January and Vancouver was plagued with grey skies and rain, the cold air floating through the room outside of the plush comforter. 

You reached your arm out to grab your phone, bypassing the notifications as you looked at the time. It was 5:36am and the sun had yet to rise. Milo and Coolie were both curled up on Brock’s side of the bed, laying on top of the sheets in the space that he usually occupies. You glanced toward the ensuite bathroom and saw nothing but darkness, an indication that Brock wasn’t in the room. You laid still in bed for a moment, listening for any signs of him coming back. 

You were still adjusting to the creeks and sounds of his condo, getting used to the soft whistle of the wind during the witching hour and the crackles of the leaves. You had only moved in with Brock in December, the two of you deciding once your lease ended that it was time to take the next step as a couple. Even though it had been a short time living there permanently, you already felt like it was a home you were building together, signs of both of you scattered throughout the condo. 

You slowly pull yourself out of bed, shivering slightly as you leave the warmth of the blanket. You picked up the blue Canucks hoodie that was resting at the bench beneath the bed where you had peeled it off late last night. You pulled your arms through it and slid your feet into your slippers, feeling slightly warmer and adjusted to the temperature out of the bed. You walked to the kitchen, the room illuminated softly by the stove light. You saw the coffee pot on and realized Brock was up for the day.

You slowly woke up as the smell of coffee became more apparent, the mug warming your hands. You looked out and saw Brock on the balcony, sitting on the wicker couch with a flannel blanket in his lap. You could only see one side of his face as you watched him for a moment, taking in the slight frown on his features as he pulled the mug to his lips, steam circling in the air as he took a sip of the coffee. 

You worried about Brock all of the time but living together you found yourself learning even more about him than you knew from just being together. You were memorizing how he liked his coffee in the morning, a dark roast with just a splash of cream, how he always spent an hour in bed when coming home from a road trip, laying with you and the dogs to wind down before he would unpack and settle back in. You knew how much it meant to him each time he scored, a familiar smile present on his lips knowing he would be donating for Parkinson’s research, honoring his dad. You reveled in learning all of the little things about him, finding yourself falling more in love with him each day. But people are multifaceted, and with the good things also come the bad. 

You knew what he was like after a loss, letting him be while he showered and then spent the night rewatching tape, analyzing himself for hours before finally coming to bed. You knew the worry lines on his forehead each time his mom called, bracing himself for potentially bad news. You knew how he always reached for your hand first when he was sad, lacing your fingers together as he curled his body around yours, finding comfort in the closeness. 

You stood there in the kitchen as Brock sat outside and you didn’t recognize the expression on his face. You weren’t familiar with the way his body was hunched over, eyes closing slowly as he blinked. He always told you when something was wrong and seeing him up this early in the morning on the balcony by himself made your stomach fill with nerves at the idea of it being something serious. 

You gripped your mug tight in your hands as you walked over to the sliding glass door, slowly opening it and stepping outside into the cold morning air. The sun was slowly starting to rise, barely peeking through the endless grey clouds in the sky. Brock turned at the sound of the door closing, making eye contact with you as you walked toward him. You didn’t recognize the look in his eye and he quickly turned his head back, looking out at the view of Downtown Vancouver in front of him, sprinkles of light peppered throughout the city as people were beginning their days. 

You shivered slightly as you sat down on the couch next to him, Brock pulling you close and putting the old flannel blanket over your lap. He set his mug down, steam slowly starting to evaporate is the coffee cooled down. You bit your lip and took in his appearance. He looked exhausted, dark circles underneath his eyes and his lips slightly downturned. His hair was disheveled like he had been tossing and turning all night, something you felt guilty for sleeping through. Brock shifted slightly and pulled your right hand into his, carefully threading his fingers through yours, a sign that something was bothering him. 

“Brock, what’s wrong?” You murmured quietly. You set your mug down on the table next to his and turned your body to face his. He leaned into your touch as you reached out with your left hand to cup his face, fingers gliding over the light stubble that was growing in. He didn’t answer your question, instead he unraveled his hand from yours and pulled you closer into his chest, pressing a light kiss to your forehead before resting his chin on your hair. You pressed your body into him, allowing yourself to stay there for a few moments in his arms, closing your eyes as you listened to his steady breathing and the beat of his heart. 

“Trade rumors.” He finally spoke, voice soft as the sound vibrated through his chest. You pulled away from him enough to look at him. Trade rumors had never phased him before, he had just signed a big contract with Vancouver, cementing himself as a key forward for the team. He spent a decent part of it injured this season, but his last few games had gone well, you couldn’t imagine why he would be considered for a trade during the late season push for playoffs. 

You curled further into his chest, completely enveloped by the warmth of him as he held you, coffee long forgotten as you watched the city illuminate with light from the sun. Brock’s fingers delicately traced circles on your hips, a cold sensation on your bare skin where the sweatshirt had risen up slightly. You waited for him to continue, knowing that he was mentally piecing together what he wanted to share with you about what was keeping him up at night. 

“I never usually pay mind to them.” He started, sighing quietly once more. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he was upset, each word slipping shakily from his mouth. You reached down, finding one of his hands and lacing your fingers with his once more, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand for encouragement. Brock loved holding your hand, he often said it kept him grounded, providing him comfort when his mind wouldn’t slow down or when feelings became too much. You felt his body relax as you squeezed his hand gently, encouraging him to continue. 

“I love you, you know.” He began again, “I’ve never really had to worry about there being truth to the rumors before. But this season, I don’t know.” You hated how insecure he sounded, how defeated he was over what was hopefully going to end up being some reporter just trying to get an interesting story to circulate with clickbait about Brock. 

“You’re not getting traded, there’s no way.” You responded. Brock loved Vancouver, that was why he stayed after his initial contract. He believed in his teammates, he found friendships with them that he didn’t realize he would have. He was a vital player to the Canucks, you couldn’t wrap your mind around any reason why they would want to trade him. 

“It’s not that, I mean, I would hate to leave here. I love Vancouver, I have most of my life here, but-” He stopped himself, swallowing softly as he pulled himself away from you a bit. He tucked his hand under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his slowly. You could see him searching your eyes for something, and you did everything you could to not appear worried about how he was acting. 

“I just, what if I do get traded though? What happens to us?” You felt your heart drop at his question, not because you were worried about what would become of your relationship, but because you were sad that he was concerned about it. You leaned your head up and closed the distance between you as you pressed your lips to his, the kiss soft, a hint of desperation behind it as you wished he would pick up on how much you loved him in that moment. You leaned back, resting your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling softly on his blonde hair. 

“I’d follow you anywhere, Brock. You have to know that by now.” You kept your voice steady, Brock needed to know how serious you were. You loved him more than you thought you were capable of loving a person, you were looking forward to experiencing the rest of your life with him, you would go anywhere he needed to go because that’s what you were willing to sacrifice to be with him. 

“I couldn’t ask you to, your life is here.” He smiled sadly, looking away from you and back out to the city he had grown attached to the last few years. 

“Brock, look at me.” you instructed, turning his cheek toward you. His eyes softened, nose slightly red from the cold air circling the two of you as you sat face to face outside. 

“I love you. I want everything with you, a home, two little kids running around someday, the dogs. I will do that no matter where it is, as long as it’s with you.” You were surprised by your own forwardness, but you meant every word that you said. You knew Brock was it for you, you couldn’t imagine a world where you weren’t with him. He shifted slightly, eyes pulling away from yours and for a moment you wondered if you were moving too fast, if you were being too much for him and he hadn’t been thinking of those things with you at all. 

Brock didn’t say anything as he reached into his pocket, curling his fingers around the small black box that had been resting there all morning. His heart was pounding, he loved you, he had wanted this for a long time. Rumors about the trades fizzled from his mind, his entire focus now on you and this moment. He turned and looked at you for a moment, studying your face. Your eyes were wide, but it was evident you were tired and your cheeks slightly pink from the cold. You had a curious look in your eyes as strands of your hair softly fell around your face, evidence of the night before. 

Brock pulled the box out, running his fingers over it as he held his hand in front of yours. He watched as you looked down at it in his hands, eyes widening at the realization of what it was, a hint of glassiness already present in them. 

“I’ve had this all week, wondering what the perfect moment was to ask you. I almost did it so many times, but then I would get wrapped in my head and think about how maybe it was too soon, maybe we weren’t ready. We just moved in, how could we be ready?” He started and you sat there listening intently. Your hands were shaking, and tears were threatening to spill. Brock grabbed one of your hands, lacing your fingers together before turning to fully look at you again. 

“But, then I look at you and I just know you’re all I could ever want. I’ve been up all night about these stupid rumors and you come out here and you just know what I’m feeling and you somehow make it better. You make everything better. I want everything with you, the house, the babies, all of it. Will you marry me?” 

He opened the box, revealing a simple yet beautiful ring. You couldn’t stop the tears that were freely sliding down your cheeks, feeling overwhelmed with the events of the morning. Everything about it was perfect, an intimate moment just the two of you. You didn’t need a grand gesture, or a public proposal. You had Brock, and that was all you could ever need. 

“Of course.” You leaned up to kiss him, smiling into it. When you pulled apart you presented your left hand to him, shaking slightly as he slid the ring on your finger, lacing your fingers together once more. 

The two of you sat out on the balcony for a while longer, wrapped up in that old flannel blanket as you watched the rest of the sunrise, the view of Vancouver sparkling as the sun completely rose, grey clouds evaporating for an abnormally beautiful day. The trade rumors not mentioned again, it didn’t matter where he went if it happened, you’d go to any other city as long as it meant you had him. 

#brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #repost from my old blog