#these two have kept me sane over the years

[ravinoforre]

A doodle page of various headcanons and scenes that replay over and over in my mind. Call it a birthday treat to myself.

#scheduling this post in advance to release while i sleep to counter anxiety posting this #hope it works #i don't feel i draw Leaf enough despite her being a prominent fave so here we go #Ryuleaf #still calling the ship that until i find someone else out there #though i think i may be the only one #anyway this cute fluff was fun to draw! #these two have kept me sane over the years #...relatively speaking #trainer Leaf #trainer Michael #Jovi #Pokemon XD #Pokemon FRLG #Orre #ravinoforre

[pen-and-umbra]

The second episode of the Remake, FF7 Rebirth, has proven to be a terrific experience thus far. SE obviously made a few big decisions here and there.

It is seemingly implied now that Jenova wasn't "brain-dead", and it is hinted that Sephiroth was addled during his breakdown.

It all begins with a strategically placed cut, when Sephiroth touches the door bearing the name Jenova and instructs "Cloud" to close the valve. The scene is merely functional for new fans, yet leaves a vacant space that Crisis Core players will quickly fill in with the inferred arrival of Genesis. Smart move that, leaving the interpretation to the player. Whether Genesis exists inside the Remake's continuity or not, the moment reads differently to each fan. Quite frankly, I was half-expecting “Cloud” to come across a banora apple, rolling on the floor, but I suppose that would be telling.

What's remarkable is that they give Sephiroth almost identical symptoms to those that Cloud has in the remake. Glitches and odd headaches superimpose themselves nicely over the original Crisis Core scene. And, as much as I loathe Tyler Hoechlin's acting in the game, he lends a tangible sense of rage to Sephiroth's disparaging remarks about Hojo and his experiments. You can hear the hatred, a touch of pity, and disgust directed at Hojo's work and the creatures he tortured. In Crisis Core, he refers to the test subjects as “abominations” with the same touch of bitterness.

Back to the point: glitches, pupil dilations, and headaches are visual cues for Jenovaroth's influence or proximity, as shown in the first part of the Remake. However, at this point, Sephiroth is still sane — cracking, but still himself — so the only agent who can exert influence on him is, well, Jenova.

Now, a widely established fan hypothesis maintained that Jenova was brain-dead or comatose. Bodily functions sustained, but brain activity plateaued. Rebirth, however, strangely suggests otherwise.

When "Cloud" returns to Sephiroth in the manor's basement for the second time, Sephiroth recites an excerpt from a journal purportedly written by Professor Gast: 

“The specimen, found in a strata dating back two thousand years, smiled with what could only be described as 'ethereal grace'… Though the truth eluded me at first, I later determined that she was an Ancient - or a 'steward of the planet', as they are referred to in legend”. 

Remembering the battles with Jenova Dreamweaver and Jenova Emergent, the creature is far from "graceful" or "ethereal". There is nothing graceful about her figure in the tube either, and she is not smiling. The game goes out of its way to lampshade the glaring contradiction by showing the flashes of Jenova’s fanged skull and grotesque body as Sephiroth quotes the passage. So how could Gast perceive her as such?.. The answer is most likely found in Jenova Dreamweaver's description given in Ultimania: the entity has the ability to induce hallucinations in individuals who come into proximity with it, which is further corroborated by Jenova Emergent description.

An ancient lifeform that Shinra Company has kept under strict confidentiality. Those who come into contact can have their conscience interfered as well as see illusions. Professor Hojo has dedicated half of his life to researching Jenova, and within the Shinra Company building's top floors lies a secret research center called the "Dome," where Jenova's cells are injected into lifeforms or machinery to conduct experiments. (Ultimania)

Gast even writes that “the truth eluded him at first”, but LATER he determines the specimen belonged to the race of Ancients, as if that answer was suggested. The implication is chilling: Jenova may have purposefully misled Gast in order to present itself as an Ancient. As Sephiroth later explains in the FF7Rb, Jenova is capable of seeing deep into one's soul and impersonating individuals you fear, love, or hate.

If ShinRA and Gast were determined to unravel the mysteries of Ancients and their Promised Land, it would make sense for Jenova to "scan" Gast and determine the best course of action: disguise itself as an Ancient in order to escape captivity in geological strata jail.

The scene in which Sephiroth reads Gast's notes is possibly the final time he is more or less himself, before Jenova's image intermingles with his for a brief moment. Again, I appreciate Tyler's voice acting in this particular section and the real rage he brought to it. Admittedly, I was concerned that with next-gen visuals, they would take a more gruesome approach, displaying Sephiroth conducting the Nibelheim carnage with sadistic pleasure, but they took a different route. Slow, zombie-like movements, and a glassy expression.

He speared the militiamen as casually as if he were spearing bugs, which is far more frightening from a narrative point. What jumped out was how they emphasized the possessed-like behavior: from snarling and flailing the book like a suffering person to an empty countenance and automaton-like strides, as if he was being beckoned. Which is what "Mother is waiting" implies.

The final segment of the Nibelheim flashback is likely the most essential as well. According to previous developer claims, Sephiroth's will took precedence over Jenova's, and he was in control — whether Jenova was brain-dead or simply of lesser willpower.  However, the Rebirth appears to suggest something different right off the bat. First, "Cloud" shouts, "I believed in you… No… Not you — whoever the hell you are!", highlighting the significant personality change and the resulting lack of recognition. But then "Cloud" sees Jenova's image superimposed over that of Sephiroth in a rapid, glitch-like succession.

In other words, he sees Jenova inhabiting Sephiroth's body as a vehicle to once again escape the confinements. Whatever that means, whether it suggests that Jenova is in control from the start, or whether Sephiroth is literally the greatest functional agglomeration of her cells, and therefore literally “becomes” Jenova. 

If Jenova's original body was severely damaged — either as a result of eons of incarceration or Hojo's tinkering — it stands to reason that, if she wished to carry out her plan, she would need a new body, one capable of moving at the very least. Perhaps Sephiroth, an able-bodied skilled Mako-infused fighter of considerable might, served as a better "vessel" than her original damaged one. 

But the crux of the matter lies elsewhere. The possibility of Jenova being conscious and influencing Gast is very terrifying. With the potential to affect others in close vicinity, she may have influenced the minds of the whole science team behind the Jenova Project, particularly those who had long-term contact with her tissue — Gast and Hojo. It could turn out that the whole idea to revive an “Ancient” was planted by Jenova in order to grow itself a powerful host. In fact, if it could "peer into one's soul," i.e. read minds and memories, it might have easily identified a pressure point to indoctrinate people who could forward her objective. It's one thing to inject tissue samples into an adult body; it's quite another to devise a plan to inject cells into a developing human fetus. Who knows. Perhaps Hojo is such an obsessed Jenova nutcase in large part because he fell under its spell; feelings of inadequacy and being overshadowed by his colleague may have offered a crack in his defenses.

One that Jenova easily took advantage of. After all, as Dirge of Cerberus implies, Hojo ended up implanting himself with alien organic material.

Again, Jenova's power to extract information from an individual when in proximity supports a bleak reading of the events leading up to Nibelheim's ransacking. A person who kept on carrying a photograph of his supposedly late mother and badgered others about his background, as suggested by Ever Crisis episodes, was literally wearing his weakness on a sleeve.

Perhaps the 30-something years of the Jenova Project were supposed to bring Sephiroth there.

Perhaps the chain of events had been nudged in that direction, starting from the very discovery of a derelict non-human lifeform. Nudged by an intelligence both cunning and incomprehensible. And that makes Jenova a much, much scarier presence in the remake than it was ever suggested in OG.

#ffvii@luv fandoms #ffvii rebirth #ff7 #ffvii #ff7 rebirth #jenova #sephiroth #hojo #gast

[miinatozakiii]

eyes on me (and only me)

myoui mina x fem!reader ; fluff, angst, smut ; wc: 9.1k

synopsis: mina’s not fond of the attention you’re receiving, but it’ll take more than a glare to get that message across.

warnings: smut smut smut! ; alcohol ; almost fucking in the bathroom lmfao ^_^ : angst if u squint ; friends to fucking to lovers or smth like that ; rushed lowk ; not proofread and anything else i missed??

a/n: not my best work plus i wrote this on my phone. lots of mistakes oops

—

the light turns red, you slow down smoothly. the glow from the traffic light illuminates mina’s face with a red glow. you turn to catch a glimpse of her.

she catches you glancing over and raises a brow, you smile playfully and turn back to watch the cars pass.

“why do you do that?” she asks you, rolling her eyes. “you’re so weird.”

“don’t say that, i’m amazing.”

mina shakes her head and turns to face the passengers window, hiding her smile from you. the music in the car continues to play, you giggle, and the light turns green again. you gradually press down on the pedal.

you and mina have been friends for 8 years and counting, luckily you both ended up at the same university—which meant no long-distance friendship and no problems.

(well— there was one problem, one that kept the two of you up at night: the mutual attraction the two of you had for each other.)

(but both of you choose to ignore that in order to keep yourselves sane.)

(it doesn’t keep any of you sane.)

mina was someone you could be completely transparent with, and despite how stupid or unhinged you’ve been, she’s stuck by your side throughout the years. and speaking of which, throughout the years she’s only gotten prettier, and she’s been undeniably beautiful. she matured physically and mentally, the physical aspect unquestionably catching your eye more. years pass and her features are sharper, yet as elegant as ever. more eye candy for you, and more excuses such as: “i was zoning out” to repeat after getting caught staring. both of you had a staring problem.

“and~ we’re home.” you beam, watching mina unbuckle the seatbelt. “give me your bag, you must be tired.”

mina hands you her small shoulder bag and smiles at you, you return the smile. she gets out your car and stretches her arms out, sighing as she does so.

the night breeze hits you in the face hectically, but it passes through mina’s hair in a way that reminds you of some commercial, with her as the conspicuous model.

the two of you walk over to the entrance of your apartment complex, then up the stairs. you follow mina up as she walks to the third floor, and you feel a little bad since her legs must hurt.

once you get to your shared apartment, mina reaches inside the pocket of her jacket for the keys, then pulls them out and starts to unlock the door. she turns the lock to the right once and pushes the door open, turning on the light as soon as she steps inside.

mina plops on the couch and you giggle, smiling at your best friend and roommate. you plop down next to her and she puts her feet on your lap, sinking into the cushions deeper.

“shift must’ve been rough, huh?” you ask, watching her nod in response. she closes her eyes and turns to the side, sighing.

“i have a test tomorrow too.”

“seriously? on what?”

“physics.” she groans, then sits up. “i figured majoring in architecture would be less grueling. i was wrong. so wrong.”

“you set yourself up for more of that.” you tease, tapping her shoulder and urging her to turn around. “let me ease the tension, then you can rest a bit and study a bit. it’s only 5:50.”

she hums and turns around; you place your hands on her shoulders and begin to work at the stiff muscles with your nimble fingers. she gasps at the sudden contact, shrugging then easing into your touch. mina lets out a variety of sighs and groans here and there, but otherwise stays pretty inaudible the rest of the time. she leans away from you after she’s had enough, rolling her shoulders back and then cracking her neck.

"thank you y/n, for everything.”

you can’t help but chuckle after hearing her words of gratitude. she sounded so serious and sincere, which caught you off guard. you stand up and intertwine your own fingers together, stretching them up and behind your back a bit.

“i just drove you back from work and massaged you, that’s what friends are for. no need to be to sentimental minari.”

she rolls her eyes and scoffs at your teasing tone, “oh so i guess i’ll just quit showing my gratitude.”

“hey i didn’t mean—”

a pillow is thrown at your stomach before mina starts giggling, showing her gums and all as she beams; just how you adore. you throw the pillow back at her and she catches it with her hands, then stands up and sets it down on the couch.

“okay now go study, can’t be wasting your tuition on a failed physics grade.”

“i don’t want to hear that from you y/n. didn’t you get a 67 on that anatomy module?”

“hey!” you raise your hands up in defense, “i passed, that’s all that matters.”

“yeah, whatever. i’m going, thanks again.” mina mumbles, grabbing her bag and walking over to her room.

she smiles as soon as she enters her room, then laughs to herself. she sighs dreamily, something out of a romcom.

--

“so the both of you aren’t actually togeth—”

“no.” mina dismisses momo immediately. momo looks at you whilst you talk with the girl you met in your kinesiology class, the girl that’s a little too touchy and flirty for mina’s liking. “she’s occupied anyway, always talking with any girl that’s in her line of sight.” mina scoffs.

“oh, so you’re jealous?” momo laughs, grinning at mina.

the younger woman shoves the older one in the shoulder, rolling her eyes. “no. she’s just taking her sweet time when we need to be somewhere.”

you’re smiling, you’re laughing, and she is doing the same. her hands are resting on your chest every now and then and she’s also giving you heart eyes. of course, you’re too oblivious to realize – just how you always are with girls like that – mina hates it.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, you finish talking to the girl, make an excuse that you have to leave, and check your phone. you look up and mina is talking to momo, and then you walk over — no, rush over and almost trip in the middle of the lobby — and apologize for being a couple of minutes late. mina grimaces and momo gives you a toothy smile.

“let’s go, we need to pick up sana too—right?” you ask, mina simply nods, no small smile or anything before she turns away.

she starts walking out the doors first and you frown at the sudden moodiness from her. you know mina well, well enough to know when she’s having her mood swings and feeling down. you learned to be attentive at a young age, and mainly — only — for her.

you look over to momo and she shrugs, then suggests, “maybe if you weren’t so late.”

“it was six minutes.”

“maybe it’s more than the time then.”

“momo—” you’re unable to finish your sentence because now she’s the one turning around and following mina’s path. your shoulders sink and you frown again. your legs carry you out the doors to follow the two women despite the sinking feeling in your heart.

mina is standing beside the passenger door waiting for you to unlock your car, and momo is on her phone leaning against the door to the backseat. you click the button on your keys, your car makes that clicking noise and lights up, then mina and momo get inside at the same time.

you get into the drivers seat and turn on your engine, then face mina to ask, “want the aux?” then she hums in response, plugging her phone in. momo observes from the back seat; the way you clench your teeth subtly, mina’s hesitance, the way your hand grips the steering wheel tighter than usual, mina’s body turning away from yours.

sana is in the car ten minutes later and immediately, the tension starts to die down.

“i’m so hungry…” sana sighs, linking her arm with momo’s.

you laugh and assure her, “i’ll drive quick, i think everyone is as hungry as you.” mina smiles and you catch it from the corner of your eye; you grin sheepishly..

it’s silent for the most part other than sana starting all the conversations and everyone responding. then, halfway through the car ride, sana beams and mentions: “hey, sebastian is throwing a house party, everyones going to be there you know.”

“…and?” you hum, eyes on the road.

“we should go!”

“sana,” mina begins, “you know i’m not a party person.”

sana pouts. “come on~ that chaeyoung girl you’ve been all flirty with is going to be there. maybe you can hit it off with her.”

the light turns red and you hit the brakes – not so smoothly – and quirk a brow at mina. you’ve been able to hit it off with some girls on campus, hooking up with them and whatnot, but the mention of mina talking to someone – which, you’re been completely unaware of – strikes a nerve in you for some reason. she’s not yours, you’re not hers, yet there’s a sick feeling in your stomach.

“you’re— you’re talking to someone?” the uneasy atmosphere makes its comeback as soon as the question slips past your lips, and mina shrinks in her seat. “you never told me that.”

“you never tell me about all the girls you talk to, i can’t talk to one?” mina says, her tone vicious.

“i- no, i just, i thought you would’ve told me about something like that.” you look at her apologetically, she doesn’t bat an eye at you. “i didn’t mean that, mina.’

sana and momo glance at each other in the backseats; momo shrugs, sana raises her brows, and then sana decides to clear the air.

“so, let’s go as a group?” she insists, and you can only hum as you pull into the parking spot near the café.

momo decides to find seats for the four of you and you thank her before grabbing mina’s wrist and dragging her to the bathroom. sana and momo watch, both as surprised as mina.

it’s a single person restroom, and you close the door behind you harshly before backing mina against the sink. you’re only an inch or two taller, nothing too significant, but somehow it feels like you’re towering her completely.

she looks into your eyes, you look into hers tenderly; mina surrenders and breaks the eye contact.

“what’s going on mina?”

“i’m sorry, it’s nothing.”

“it’s clearly something.” you murmur, curious and confused. “please, you can tell me anything.”

without thinking, you cup her face. your hands are warm, they’ve always been warm and mina’s have always been on the colder end. mina feels her heart shatter and pound against her chest at the same time, her cheeks flush but her lips twitch into a frown.

hesitant to give into your touch, she shudders away subtly. “it’s nothing, i’m just, you know—“

“mood swings?” you ask, moving your hand to her shoulder and rubbing your thumb against the material that covers it. mina leans in to your touch this time and nods, looking back at you. “i’m sorry for, sounding so… i don’t know, angry. it’s not my business, and if you’re talking to someone…” you gulp down your feelings and decide on what anyone would say. “then i hope they make you happy and whatnot, it’s not my business. i shouldn’t have pushed it.”

“no,” mina mumbles. you turn your head, confused. “i think i’ve been a bit distant recently, i haven’t been as open.”

“hey don’t say that, i guess the stress is killing both of us.”

“i’m sorry again.” mina sighs.

“it’s okay, i love you always, no matter what.”

“and how do you?” mina questions, tensing up at the feeling of your thumb rubbing against her shoulder now. you slide your hand down to her forearm subconsciously, pausing your actions.

“what? mina, you know i love you. we’ve been friends since like, forever. i’m just saying i’m always here if you need me.”

friends.

“okay, yeah thanks.” mina rushes her response out, then recomposes herself. she grabs your wrist briefly before letting go, then opens the door. “i’m hungry, hurry up.”

“yeah yeah, whatever.”

--

mina’s normal for the rest of the week and there are no complications or mood swings for the most part. the two of you are pretty busy anyway, no time for arguments when your professors are up your asses.

there’s those moments of solitude with your roommate that bring you some peace of mind here and there, which makes it harder to push down the trivial feelings you have for mina. like that one time mina helped you out with dinner, pushing you to the side with her hand on your waist. yeah, that one had your heart racing.

other than a near heart attack and some domestic and weirdly intimate alone time with mina, there hasn’t been any tension or bickering since that car ride. things seem good and you’re happy with that.

sana reminds you of the party the day of, it reminds you of what had happened in the car. you’re reminded of mina’s ‘talking stage’ and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit, but there’s nothing to worry about since mina isn’t the biggest partygoer. she’d probably be cooped up in her room playing games while you drank more than you intended to again, just like always.

tonight was an exception.

you’re leaning against the counter in your baggy jeans and the fit t-shirt where the sleeve cuts off just above your bicep – the shirt that makes your arms look good and shows your tattoos better – and sana is texting the group chat saying she’ll be there in five. you wait patiently and pass the time by mindlessly scrolling.

what you don’t expect is to see mina emerging from the hall looking effortlessly beautiful like she always does. she meets your gaze then drops it to your own body, quickly returning back to the shared eye contact. there’s something in the way she holds herself up that’s keeping your look on her for a moment longer, afraid to look away just in case you’ll miss something.

she’s fucking stunning, no doubt about that. a cropped, white top hugs her figure perfectly and shows a good amount of her defined abdomen, the light shines in a way that highlights her grooves. she has that naturally striking body, the one that girls envy or swoon over, and the ones that guys eye not so subtly in public, much to your dismay. she’s also wearing some light makeup — a rosy sunset lightly decorating the outside of her eyes and a darker shade of red painted on her lips — and even without it your jaw would be on the floor. her wavy hair falls loosely around her and her bangs are tousled – different than her usual well kept look – it all captivates you. mina’s fucking hot, no doubt about that.

your eyes do a lot of the talking, they run up and down her body, down to the curve of her hips that are covered by her low-rise boyfriend jeans. mina’s inching closer and you recompose yourself, try not to eye fuck your roommate too hard.

“you’re going to the party? thought you weren’t a party person.”

“i don’t have anything better to do.”

“not going to stay and play games? that’s new.”

she scoffs, then crosses your arms and it makes you realize that you’ve been looking at her exposed tummy again. you make eye contact with her again. mina raises her brows, then responds with a hint of test in her tone, “do you not want me to go? sounds a lot like it.”

not when you look like that. you should only look like that for me, you think, and you want to respond with that thought. but you hold yourself back and decide to laugh it off, masking your odd jealously that looms.

you clear your throat, then respond, “no, just curious. we should take my car over then, just in case you want to leave early.”

“yeah, okay.” mina says, suspicious of your sudden change in mood. “let sana know then, and don’t drink too much, or really anything since you’re driving.”

“you know i’m a heavy weight. three shots and i’m still walking straight, functioning, and able to have fun. don’t worry about me.” you wave your hand and grab your phone. “i’ll ring up sana.” you say, then motion for her to leave the house with you.

-

the walk to the house is not too long, but unfortunately you were too late to bag a spot in the astonishingly large drive way. it was already filled with seven cars, all different brands besides the two honda civics that are next to each other, one red and one black. how generic, and probably driven by men who’d try to hit on you and your friends later.

there’s a fence to the backyard and you easily lift up the metal that prevents the door from opening. you push the door open and mina slides in through the gap, then you slip through and lock it again.

the music was already noticeable before the two of you had actually made it on the property, but now it’s much louder and disturbingly raucous. but that’s just how parties are. there’s a good amount of people in the spacious back yard, maybe fifteen or more – give or take – some are talking in a group with bottles of beer in their hands, two people makeout against the tree in the right corner, and others are cackling while some shirtless guy with a buzzcut and shotguns a can of cheap alcohol. nothing too surpassingly other than the size of the house and yard, pretty normal for everything that’s unfolding.

you lean down a bit to bring your lips to mina’s ear, making sure your voice is heard over the drake that’s playing at a volume that’s surely going to bring noise complaints.

“you okay?” you ask loudly, almost a shout. mina nods, then turns over, her face only inches away from yours. you look down at her lips, and back up to peer into her dark eyes. “we should go inside.” you suggest, mina nods once more.

compared to outside, the house held a lot more people. the kitchen was filled with people getting refills of sodas alcohol, and maybe one or two people ended up with water in their cups — though only those few — the rest of the bunch that crowded the house were either tipsy or drunk out of their minds.

“i think i’m gonna grab a beer or something, text me if you need anything – actually, just call me.”

mina wants to cling onto you the whole night and if anything, she only came in hopes of making you jealous. but here you are, actually indulging in whatever the hell is going on around the two of you. she feels sick to her stomach when she sees you wave goodbye, and prays that you won’t end up like those two girls in the corner of her eye that are eating each others mouths. at least not with anyone but her. fuck.

“hey, it’s you.” mina feels a tap on her shoulder and turns around to face the girl she met in her design class. “i didn’t know you were a party person, didn’t strike me as the type.”

chaeyoung is also wearing a crop top, revealing the various tattoos that decorate her skin. mina liked the tattoos, but all she could think about was the ones you had on your own skin, the ones mina always found herself staring at. her dark hair is messy, yet it suits the younger woman, so does her whole outfit: some crop top and paint splattered jeans.

“you here with anyone?” chaeyoung asks, then takes a sip from her can of beer, mina thinks it’s the rocket pop based on the colors.

“no, you?”

“nah, i came here with a friend though. i think she’s out flirting now though.”

“yeah, i came with a friend too. she’s probably doing the same too.”

“you don’t sound too happy about that.” chaeyoung says, observing the faint disappointment that spreads across mina’s features. “wanna get a drink?”

mina hesitates, then nods. chaeyoung smiles and grabs mina’s hand, leading her to a fridge in the kitchen.

“oh, and by the way,” the younger woman starts, turning to mina. “you look good.”

“thanks.” mina responds.

it’s not that mina doesn’t enjoy chaeyoung’s company, if anything she’s actually really intrigued with her little anecdotes and cute little rambles. mina likes the way chaeyoung giggles with her over some small thing, and mina doesn’t necessarily hate how chaeyoung leans closer to her, the skin-to-skin contact isn’t anything that bothers her. mina simply can’t feel anything for chaeyoung, and it frustrates her because one: chaeyoung is pretty, quite nice on the eyes. that’s something mina can’t deny. two: she’s attentive and sweet, mina know’s this from the times she’s interacted with her before this headache of a party.

she’s just not you.

“you okay?” chaeyoung asks, rubbing her thumb on mina’s hand.

“yeah, i just, um— i need another drink.”

“you’ve had two cans already, and you seem all hazy. you sure you can take it?”

“it’s fine, i’m fine. yes, yeah.”

“okay… careful then. let me go with you.”

“no.” mina says almost immediately, then pauses. “i mean, um, i can go myself. sorry.”

chaeyoung nods, letting go of mina’s hand. “i’ll see you around mina, hope we run into each other again. i liked talking to you.”

“me too, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.”

mina leaves chaeyoung on the couch alone, finding her way through the crowd and towards the kitchen to grab something stronger. she does in fact find something stronger in the fridge: some bottle of (most likely) cheap vodka. mina fucking hates vodka, but she also fucking hates that you’ve been plaguing her mind all night. so, mina grabs some small, plastic shot glass and pours herself a quick remedy to her growing disturbance. she shoots her head back and winces, groaning at the stinging taste of it dying down in her throat.

to make matters worse, you only plague her mind further. and to make it even worse (yet again), she catches you in the corner of her eye.

the girl from that day she got mad at you stands awfully close, putting her hand on your chest as she laughs. you only smile and laugh with her, not really paying attention to anything else.

this is the closest you’ve been to the girl, courtney was her name. she’s in your anatomy and has a similar hairstyle to mina, though mina’s looks ten times better. her eyes shine as she looks at you, well, mostly your lips. she smiles and slides her hand around your neck.

“you know, i’ve always thought you were pretty.” she says, “how about we find a spot to be alone?”

“oh,” you say, features shifting into one of confusion. “courtney i don’t— i thought we were just having fun…?”

“don’t be stupid baby,” you wince at the petname, it doesn’t sound right coming from her. she twirls your hair around, it irks you, you definitely don’t like it. “we can have fun if we find a place with a door that has a lock.” and all you can do is laugh awkwardly.

“courtney i don’t—” you look past courtney and towards the familiar girl in the kitchen, making direct eye contact with her and freezing as soon as you realize just who you’re looking at.

mina huffs, frowning at you disappointedly. she shouldn’t be disappointed, but she is.

if only that were her, she thinks.

she bites back a tear, clenching her teeth and shaking her head – which somehow makes her more uneasy than she already is – and starts to walk away. she doesn’t know where she’s going, just as long as it’s less overwhelming and there’s no sight of you with someone that isn’t her.

“shit,” you mumble, and then courtney desperately tries to postpone your departure with small talk, but it’s no use. you speed through the crowd and bump into various bodies as you try to keep mina in your vision, pushing anyone in your way just to find her.

you watch her turn into the hallway and manage to make it to that turn only two seconds later, but by the time you get there she’s already stepping into some room and closing the door. a curse slips from your breath as you run towards the same door a second after it had closed, hitting your fist against it in defeat.

“mina!” you shout – no response. “fuck, mina, please.”

you lean your forehead against it, flattening your hands against the door before you bang on it again.

“please? please mina, i know something is up.”

“go entertain yourself with whoever you were with earlier.” and what the fuck did that mean? you didn’t know. could mina mean courtney? you didn’t want her like that, mina can’t possibly be bothered by her – and, if she were, that wouldn’t make sense. courtney is just a friend, if anything, you wanted mina in her place.

“what does that mean? mina you’re being so—” she cuts you off, opening the door. she’s got that flush, the same one that she did when she lost to sana in that one drinking game a few months back. mina’s not sober, meaning she’s ten times more vulnerable and even moodier, but why? hell, you never know.

“weren’t you enjoying that? that girl, she’s all up on you so why do you run after me.”

“courtney? mina you’re being irrational, she’s just a classmate, a friend i guess. i don’t want her like that.”

“we’re friends and you never look at me like that,” she says, voice being muffled by the music playing in the house. “why don’t you smile at me like that?”

you step inside and close the door, now it’s just you and mina, alone.

“mina what are you saying? i smile at you all the time. are you pissed over a smile?”

“you’re so dense.”

“well i don’t know what the fuck is wrong if you’re not going to fucking tell me mina.” maybe that was harsh, considering the fact that she’s most definitely drunk, but you’re also irritated because she’s been tip toeing around the things that have been pissing her off. “you always tell me what’s bothering you and about your mood swings, but what’s been going on recently? you’ve been so, i don’t know—difficult to read.”

“and you’ve been so dense.” mina scoffs, looking you in the eye. “you flirt and charm all these other girls – any girl – why not me? what’s wrong with me?”

“mina there’s nothing wrong with you. and… you want me to charm you? what does that even—”

“why do you run after me when you don’t even want me like that, why don’t you love me like i love you.”

you halt, watching mina’s bottom lip twitch and brows crease as she looks at you.

“mina,” you begin, shoulders relaxing a bit. “of course i love you.”

“then why do you-“

with no warning, you lean in, capturing her lips with yours and cupping both cheeks with your hands. this is one of the dumbest decisions of the night, undeniably so. reality hits you and you’re pulling away, but mina pulls you back in.

you should stop this, you have to stop this, it can’t be right.

you don’t stop, partially because mina is wrapping her arms around you, keeping you close.

(and mainly because this is what you’ve been needing – dreaming – of for years. you’ll let your morals come back to you later, because right now this contact feels better than anything.)

her hands almost sting from how cold they are when they graze your neck, sliding up to grip your hair. you reciprocate and place your hands on her waist, the music fades out in the background, her back is pressed against the door, and you’re keeping her place as you savor what you’ve daydreamed about countless times.

using the part of your brain that isn’t overtaken by lust, you try to make sure everything is alright after remembering she’s had a drink or two – at least before you indulge again – and that she’s not sober—which is very rare for someone like mina. you pull away first and fight the urge to ruin her right here and right now.

“wait mina—” mina doesn’t give you time to speak, immediately leaping back onto you and locking lips again, whining as she tugs at your hair. she bites your lip slightly, which makes you push her against the door harder, fingers leaving marks in her skin.

there’s too much going on, too much you want to do all at once – mina wants the same.

you pull away successfully, mina doesn’t pull you back in hurriedly this time. her eyes are partially closed, lips puffy, her breath is heavy – chest heaving up and down since she hadn’t gotten the chance to properly catch her breath – and her cheeks are a rosy shade of red.

“y/n…” mina murmurs. her tone is whiny and desperate, and all it urges you to do is close the distance again.

first, you’re exchanging saliva as you slide your tongue in, sloppily making out as you shift mina over to the counter of the bathroom sink. her moans are muffled as you kiss her and it leaves you ravenous, wanting to hear it clearly. the two of you indulge in each other, just as you’ve been craving for years.

you fall to her jaw, then the soft skin of her neck, spending your time marking it up and tending to it how you’ve been wanting to. no, needing to.

mina grips your shoulder tight and her head tilts back as her lips part. it’s odd, this is what you’ve been craving, but there’s a uneasy feeling in your stomach and it’s not from anything you’ve consumed.

“shit,” you murmur, partially because mina’s tugging at your hair again, but mainly because the realization hits you: mina’s under the influence. “what am i doing.”

the spell she’s casted on you by giving you the taste of her lips finally wore off, it takes a good amount of self-restraint to pull away one last time – and this time it’s for real, you don’t dive back into her pool of temptation – though you linger a moment, lips dangerously close to the skin just above the crook of her neck.

again, you look at her: hair messy, eyes now opening, and a pout plastered on her face.

“y/n… please, keep going.” you can’t, you know better than to keep going, despite how bad you want it.

“we should get going, minari.”

“but i need you, please.” fuck. fucking shit. you want her too, more than words can tell.

“mina…” you start, bringing a hand to cup her cheek. she leans into the touch, not hesitating for a second. mina’s beautiful, you know that. she’s against the counter of the bathroom and the only thing you can really notice right is how beautiful she is despite the music from outside getting louder. it’s strange – time slows down for a moment.

your fingers push the strands of hair that messily frame her face behind her ear and she frowns harder. against a canvas of flushed cheeks and pale skin, her eyes radiate an ethereal luminescence under the glow of the bathroom light. exuding an ineffable brilliance. her eyes, wow, her eyes are pretty in the moment. they’re staring at you and captivating your senses, holding you captive as you try to fight everything telling you to go on with your desires.

“you drank lots, didn’t you?” you ask, laughing a little to shake off your nerves. two beers is the equivalent of “lots” for mina. enough to make her all hazy and cuddly. “let’s go.” you insist, “home isn’t far and i can drive. i only had a can of beer, and i have work in the afternoon.”

“why can’t you just— fuck, y/n, i just—“

“we can talk when you’re sober.”

mina mumbles something under her breath, the sound of her voice thin and vulnerable. you hold her hand and squeeze it gently before letting out a breath.

“stay close, you were stumbling earlier.” you insist, “keep my hand in yours, ‘kay?”

you don’t let mina respond and instead, you’re out the door with her hand in yours trying to find your way out of the overwhelming atmosphere. trying to get yourselves home so you can compose yourself in an environment that isn’t making your skull pulse.

momo is dancing with sana, heat radiating off the both of them as their mutual allure drags them closer and the alcohol kicks in. momo’s eyes are only on sana, that is until she catches two familiar figures struggling to pass by the crowd blocking the door.

your hand slides down and snakes around mina’s waist, keeping her ever closer as you swim through the crowd and towards the door. sana looks at momo, who’s looking in a different direction, then turns to see what’s up with whatever is going on. “whatever is going on” is something that has sana smiling cheekily, giggling and then turning back to momo.

“you see it too?” voice low yet audible as sana speaks into momo’s ear, lips brushing against the lobe. “i wonder if they had any fun. most likely, knowing how y/n is.”

“mm, maybe,” momo mumbles, distracted by the woman placing a hand on her chest. momo gulps, then faces sana fully and smirks. “maybe… they’ve never been that close, touchy yeah but…” momo shakes her head. her hand slides to the curve of her waist and pinches just barely, just enough for sana to gasp. “let’s find out tomorrow and find out way to the bathroom instead, hm?”

sana smiles, nodding eagerly before they find their way out the crowd and into the same bathroom you and mina had been in.

it takes a few at least ten curses under your breath before you reach the door, opening it and slipping past like you had done before with the entrance to the backyard – though this time, none of you are afraid of being close.

mina is following you, your hand still on her waist – holding onto her even though it’s not necessary – and leading her to the car.

another small curse slips your lips while looking for your keys, scared that you’ve lost them throughout your late night rendezvous. luckily, they’re shoved in one of your pockets, you sigh out a breath of relief as you press the small unlocked logo.

you help mina get into the passengers seat, then close the door for her and get into the drivers seat yourself. once you close your own door, you reach over mina and grab her seatbelt, invading her personal bubble with your own body. mina watches you with tired eyes, watches you grab the end and fasten her seatbelt with a click of the locks. before you lean back into your space, mina stops you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

she presses her lips to your temple – sloppily and sweetly – then leans back into her seat, closing her eyes.

you huff, then your lips curve--? turn? they display something that’s something in between a frown and smile, something that shows both at the same time, even if it sounds impossible.

the engine starts, you turn to look at mina once more, then drive.

-

hangovers are not for the weak, and they’re surely not for mina.

mina wakes up and it feels like she’s gotten run over countless times in the head. she groans and sinks into her matress more, hugging the pillow in her arms and then groaning once more – if the first, annoyed one wasn’t enough already.

she tries to recall everything from last night, only remembers a brief image of chaeyoung and a beer in her hand; and then everything else. everything.

it’s like being hit by a life-threatening gust of wind that’s trying to knock you over and over, it hits all at once and keeps bombarding you more and more and more. each gust is worse than the one before. it feels like being stuck in the middle of the sea while waves keep crashing and crashing and crashing against you. that’s how mina feels when the memories come piling back.

she remembers the push and pull – desperate fingers clawing at cloth or skin, lips parting so the two of you oculd catch your breaths – she remembers the sensation of it all – her shoulder blades meeting the material of the door – the chill of the material making her shiver – your tongue against her own, the teeth nipping at her skin, and shit she even remembered the smell of your perfume: amber and vanilla. she could seriously lose herself in that fragrance if it meant being that close to you again.

mina jumps when she hears three knocks, groggily rubbing her eyes before seeing someone her bedroom door. her eyes are squinty, but the figure is unmistakable. mina feels her cheeks burn again, and now she’s figuring out that they always grow warm whenever you’re around.

“hey… morning.” you greet softly, smiling. “i um, i have work soon. i just wanted to let you know there’s advil and vitamins on your bedside before i left. figured you’d need it.”

“t-thank you.” mina stutters embarrassingly. “y/n i’m sorr—”

“let’s talk about it later. just take your time, you have work later, right?”

“shit,” she mutters, closing her eyes tight and pinching the bridge of her nose. “yeah.”

“i’ll be home later, you should ask momo to take you.”

“i’ll do that, yeah.” mina answers. she watches you nod awkwardly, and then without a word; you leave.

--

mina calls momo later, later as in 12 o’clock pm because there’s no way momo would ever be up before then on a saturday – especially not after a party with sana around. still, momo answers tiredly, voice all stuffy and low.

“mina it’s so fucking early can we please—”

“come, now.” mina orders, “i’m tired too but i really need to talk to you and i’m saying this as in it’s urgent. you know it is if i’m begging like this. momo please come, now.”

she hears momo groan on the other end of the line, a few seconds of silence pass before momo answers: “give me ten.”

“thanks.”

momo gets to the apartment in thirty minutes and mina answers the door, making the older woman look at her shockingly. mina’s hair is disheveled with some strands loosely having a mind of their own. her eyes peer at momo tiredly, and she’s wearing an oversized tee with pajama pants to finish the “i just got out of bed and no hangover remedy could fix the headache i have” look.

“um, morning sunshine?” momo tries. mina turns and walks over to the couch, landing on it exhaustedly. momo follows over and sits down in the space next to her, watching her stare up at the ceiling.

“i think—no, yeah we definitely…” the younger woman starts, shutting her eyes. “there’s a hickey on my neck and i know it’s from last night. i remember, vaguely – but also so much at the same time.”

momo deadpans. “mina what the fuck are you saying.”

mina practically breaks her neck trying to lift it up just to glare at momo. “y/n gave me the hickey.”

“holy shit mina, that’s great! so you guys fuc-“

“no. i think we just… madeout.” mina sounds dissapointed when she says it, and she definitely is. “y/n’s being distant and i’m just—scared i ruined everything.”

the younger woman groans again, then leans back against the cushion. momo watches and moves over to sit criss-cross on the couch now, pulling mina by the wrists to sit her up. “stop moping, you kissed her. you’ve been complaining to me like, ages about her.”

“what if she regrets it?”

“i doubt it. maybe y/n is just worried that you regret it, i mean, you seemed pretty fucked last night.”

“i wish i were.” it slips out of mina’s mouth, momo tilts her head in surprise, this isn’t something mina would say, ever – at least out loud. “don’t start.” mina warns, glaring at her friend.

“i wasn’t going to.” momo assures, putting her hands up in defense. “maybe you should talk to her, she’s picking you up after work today, right?”

fuck.

“yeah.”

“perfect. good time to bond then.” momo chirps – mina deadpans, then collapses into the cushions again.

“i can count on both hands how many years we’ve known each other, i just can’t lose her.”

“you won’t. don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

-

mina’s worrying, and everything is not fine.

mina cannot take her mind off of you, the night before, and just you in general. it’s you you you you you running through her mind as she collects tips from the old couple in the corner of the restaurant. even as they compliment mina’s features she can’t help but think of you. it’s only you, you’re plaguing her mind even worse than how you did while she was all hot and heavy.

you tap at the wheel anxiously with your pointer and middle finger – a habit you’ve developed as soon as you had gotten your license at seventeen – as you wait for mina. the restaurant closes at 10, but mina’s leaving at seven because she can’t do closing shifts, you remember her rambles and complaints. you remember everything about her.

work had been as rough for you as it had been for mina, just the thought of her pulling you closer, bruising your lips, and just her drove you crazy. it took everything in you to function normally as people would come up to you asking where a certain book was in the library you worked at or if you could renew their copy of who fucking knows what novel.

your head shoots up when you see a familiar figure step out from the entrance to the restaurant. she pats down her clothes and adjusts the bag that hangs from her shoulders. mina looks at you through the window and you simply smile at her, fixing your posture. she smiles back and walks towards the car, then gets into the passengers seat.

you greet her like you always do: “hey.”

“hi.”

“how was work?”

“busy, but good tips.” she says, putting on her seatbelt and desperately trying to compose herself. “how was your work?”

“good, good. just the usual.”

“could be worse.”

“yeah.” she responds. there’s a short silence that sits in the air and that urges you to start driving. mina looks forward, but still, she can see you shifting the stick with your hands – the hands that were leaving mina breathless.

the car ride is silent, deathly silent.

sure, carrides back to the apartment after mina’s shifts have always been pretty nonverbal, but at least a few jokes and anecdotes were shared. the only thing shared is the silence, it makes you grip the wheel tight and has mina facing out her window.

“did you um, eat yet?”

“yeah, did you?”

“yeah… jonathan gave me half his sandwich before i clocked out.”

“good.”

“yeah.”

you reach the apartment complex after the most apprehensive car ride you’ve ever been in – which says a lot, considering the fact that you’ve been in a car driven by sana. not the best experience ever, she’s definitely a passenger princess, and should stay one.

the engine stops, you two get out the car at the same time – no words exchanged, but you’re both thinking the same thing – and then you hold out your hand so mina can give you her bag, just like always. the two of you head into the complex with you following behind mina, then up the stairs to your shared place.

the tension is cleared for a moment, mina watches you fish for the keys in your hoodie pocket, only for you to drop them on the floor and curse under your breath. mina laughs, you laugh with her and this is the first time you two have shared eye contact since last night, probably.

“you’re so clumsy, always.” mina snickers, looking at you with a gummy smile. you roll your eyes and put the key into the lock, twisting it right and responding,

“shut up.” you say in a tone of fake annoyance.

the door opens and you step inside, mina follows behind. your shoulders sink, untensing as soon as you close it again.

“i’m sorry, i made a move while you were drunk and if i hadn’t controlled myse—”

“shut up.” mina orders, using one hand to pull you close by the wrist and the other hand immediately slides to the back of your neck as she closes the distance again.

mina kisses you first this time, and now both your senses are fully there, no alcohol to fuck any of you over this time. you almost stumble backwards from how ttaken aback you are, but shortly after the contact you’re kissing her with the same force.

you drop the bag in your hand – it’ll be tomorrows problem, it’s not that big of a deal anyway – and cup her cheeks, slowly inching forward towards any surface that’ll keep you two from fucking on the floor right then and there. where’s the fun when there’s no action building up to everything?

mina’s feels the marble of the counter in the kitchen above her waist as you push her against it. her hands find the edge and grip onto it tightly as your hands start to roam down the curve of her hips. mina’s tugging at your hair and it earns a small whine from you, and then she’s swiping her tongue against your bottom lip since it’s the only way to ask you to sloppily make out with her without pulling away for too long.

it’s actually not that sloppy, it’s like your tongues know each other already, they accustom to each other almost immediately. minutes – it feels like hours – pass and you pull away to glance at her for a moment; cheeks? flushed. pupils? taking over mina’s eyes completely from how dilated they are. your lips? oh, they’re craving more of the woman trapped between your arms right now.

your lips fall to her jaw, pressing feathery kisses that leave her breath shaky. when mina thinks it can’t get any better, you take your time tending to her neck – which, is too empty for your liking – sucking, nipping, doing anything that’ll make her have to wear a scarf, your hoodie, or extra foundation the next morning.

as you mark up her skin, she blindly reaches to take off the jacket you’re wearing, and you reach for the end of her black shirt that she has on, then slide it off her figure.

you eye her up and down, lingering on her chest. “fuck, fuck i want to leave you a mess.”

“do it then.”

“gladly.” you say. mina feels a pulse in between her legs.

the two of you make it to mina’s room and leave pieces of clothing out on the way. mina grows louder with each kiss, and you grow touchier.

she pushes you through the door – you make sure to quickly turn on the lights so you can get a good view of her the whole night – and then her hand is on your chest, pushing you down on the bed. you prop yourself up with both hands, watching her take off her black pants and then making her way to your lap.

you can’t help but smirk at her, smirk at the exposed skin, the new territory, the groove down her abdomen, everything. she’s grinding on your lap and it feels like a dream, but it isn’t, not when you’re hyperaware of your hand sliding up the smooth skin of mina’s ribs, hyperaware of all the contact, the heavy breaths, the shaky ones, mina’s arms around your neck.

“my bra, take it off.” she orders. of course you’ll comply, it’s mina telling you this after all.

you slide your hands over her skin and feel her shiver against you, then you unhook her bra, sliding it off and throwing it somewhere around the room.

“fuck,” is all you can say. mina’s topless, she’s on your lap, straddling you, and you give up on trying to savor anything because all it’ll do is make you short circuit. it’s all so much to handle, far too much for you, so mina helps you out while she watches you amusingly.

“just gonna check me out? how about you use that mouth of yours again baby.”

“yeah.”

mina moans as soon as you indulge in her tits. she trembles as your hold on her tightens, as you swirl your tongue around her nipple, and as your other hand stimulates her other breast. she grinds against you, trying to ease the tension down in her soaked pussy, but it’s no use. she thinks she might cum just from you tending to her chest, and honestly she could—she might.

but you won’t let her reach her high that easily, not so quick. you need to savor everything—well as much as your overwhelmed brain can — because this is mina.

“so,” you kiss her breast once more, then pull away with a slight ‘pop’ sound. “fucking pretty.”

she throws her head back as you trail back up to hee neck, sinking your teeth until you get the faint hint of blood on your taste buds.

“i’ve been wanting to do this for years.”

mina’s breathless. “hnghh— yeah, fuck y/n, me too—“

you stand up slowly snd hold onto mina, who’s still straddling you. her legs wrap around your waist and she lets out a sharp breath as you turn over and set her down on her back. you stand in between her legs, then brush a finger over her nipple while running a hand down her stomach. her skin twitches as you trail down to her underwear, sliding two fingers under the rim of it and pulling it off.

“you’re so pretty mina, always have been.” you mumble, brushing your fingers over the sensitive area. “bet you sound even prettier when im going down on you.”

“y/n,” mina gasps, watching you lower yourself so that you face her cunt — it’s aching, it’s craving. “please.”

you kiss the inside of her thighs lovingly. “if you say so.”

mina’s hand grips at the sheets tightly as soon as your lips meet where she needs, a loud moan reverberates around the room. you work at her pussy with your mouth at first, eating her out at more relaxed pace since this is your first time with her. when mina ruts her hips and pushes your tongue further into her, you quicken the pace and add a finger in.

“oh fuck y/n, ngh— keep going, don’t stop.”

she twitches and jerks around the more you fuck her, a plethora of whiny moans of your name leaving her mouth. another finger is added in, plunging in and curling at the spot that makes mina’s hand immediately move to your head, gripping your hair tightly as she loses her voice.

“c’mon, gonna cum soon?”

“y-yeah, fuck i’m so, fuck, so close.”

you reach up for mina’s hand, accidentally meeting her wrist but then finding her fingers and intertwining them with your own. mina’s thighs close around your head slightly, making you groan into her lazily. then, mina moans loudly, so loud and it sounds like a near cry. her thighs tremble around you, and she holds your hand tightly as her chest heaves up and down.

you slow down your pace, taking your fingers out and savoring mina’s essence with your tongue. she’s sweet and warm, you’re drunk on her arousal. the repeated murmurs of your name ring throughout the room like a song you could listen to and never get tired of. her grip loosens and you pull away, climbing up the beauty of mina’s body and leaving kisses as you make your way up to her jawline.

she lazily puts her hand on your neck, then gradually pushes her fingers into your scalp as you kiss her lips. she tastes herself off you, then hums once she’s satisfied.

when you pull away she’s looking at you with hooded eyes, putting her hand on your cheek and rubbing her thumb against your warm skin.

“everything okay?” you ask, and mina just kisses you.

“i’m tired.” she mumbles against your lips after a peck, “stay and sleep here.”

“i didn’t plan on leaving.” you say, laughing lightly. “let’s clean up a little, okay?”

mina nods and kisses you again, letting herself sink into the cushion as you run your hands down the side of her body.

-

the morning after is so normal it’s as if you two have been fucking ever since you moved in together.

there’s some morning pillow talk that consists of you groaning into mina’s bare skin and her teasing you for being so tired. her hands massage your scalp and your lips kiss the skin that covers her ribs. her cheeks flush.

“do you have work?” she asks, voice low and tired.

“no, do you?”

“no.” she mutters, “let’s sleep in.”

“okay.” you say. you weakly lift yourself up so you can lay your head on her shoulder. “how long have you been wanting to do that?”

she turns around so you’re spooning her, then lazily moves your hand over with her own so that your arm is over her body. you pull her closer and she answers, “sophomore year.”

“highschool?”

“yeah.”

you laugh. “why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“you were too busy getting attention from other girls.” mina says annoyingly, though she scoots back so she’s closer to you. “didn’t want to waste my time waiting in line.”

“you should’ve skipped the line.” you feel for her hand and hold it, linking your fingers together. “i’ve liked you since middle school and you never noticed.”

if mina weren’t half asleep she would’ve had a bigger reaction, she’d be punching your shoulder and scolding you for being such a coward for not telling her. but what use is it when she’s already living the scene she’s been dreaming about for years. your breath is warm on her skin and she’s too content to yell at you.

mina yawns. “well it’s all figured out now, sleep.”

you kiss her shoulder and smile. “okay.”

#miinatozakiii #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice smut #twice fluff #kpop smut #kpop imagines #myoui mina x reader #mina x reader #myoui mina #girl group smut

[bluetooththereptile]

Unwelcomed embrace (part two)

Yandere super family x neglected reader

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: this one shot is continuation of this one.

Tw: mentions of violence

"Why don't you have one of those small micro earphones that you attach to the collar of the clothing?" You groaned as you tried to find a good position to rest your hand on under the weight of the mic in your hand, you sighed as you looked at its round head, you didn't like it that much, it felt uneasy in your palm. The chair was too rigid for you to sit comfortably on it, creaking under your weight. You looked down at the mic that had a sock on as a muffler, smiling at the inventiveness of the reporter. "I presume your budget is not that much huh?" The reporter nodded with a sheepish smile as he tried to put on some powder to conceal some of the scar marks on your face, well, as much as your skin color let him do so. "Yeah..." he sighed "the budget is low."

You looked at him, focused on his task, young and ambitious, just like you, you felt like he had the same recklessness as well, why would a sane person come and meet a dangerous anti-hero over a post on Twitter? "Ready?" He asked as he adjusted his camera, you shifted on your seat once more, checking the dark background of the warehouse you were in, and then looked back at the shiny lens of the camera. You paused, still, your hand didn't have a good place to rest its elbow on, huffing in irritation, you rolled your eyes, you had to do something about it, if it kept irritating you, you'd end up messing everything up. So you focused on the cemented floor below, making a thick-bodied plant sprout out of the harsh floor and bend towards you, its leaves forming a cocoon, you smirked and put the mic on the head of the plant and used it as a stand, chuckling at the amazement of the reporter "Now I'm ready!"

"1...2...3..." the reporter spoke softly before the camera started filming and the red light on its front started blinking. "Alright, please introduce yourself..." he spoke to you behind the camera, tapping his pen nervously, you hummed to yourself and tapped your chin as you crossed your legs, trying to find a point to start from "I feel like a Podcaster now..." you joked, before clearing your throat as you started "Well, I'm what media used to call the "Green super" You used quotation marks in the air, your voice showing hints of your initial irritation to the name, which had associated you with superman since your powers were nearly the same. "But now I go with the Green Death, pretty cheesy, but I like it" you chuckled and continued "Well the name is not that far off from my personality either, I am green, my skin is that color."

"So, Green Death, your name has been on the news as the sole force that has kept the Armageddon from happening, twice, already, and now you, all of a sudden, while you had ignored the chance of interviewing with huge media broadcasters, have decided to have an interview now, here in the middle of nowhere, why is that?" You rubbed your chin as you thought about a response, your lips tilting upwards in a smirk "Well, now I have enough evidence to finally show the world who the heroes truly are." You paused, taking it the confused expression of the reporter, adding quickly "Make no mistake, I'm not going to expose their identities, that would make hell break loose, I just simply want to shed a much more different light on them and their actions. As you may know, I was a part of the young Justice League and then Justice League itself for a few years, and I'm the result of a 'heroic affair' myself, so I'd have a very different insight on them..."

"Why though? I mean we pretty much know about the heroes..." You let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in your seat "Well, that is sort of true, but tell me, do you know of the assaults and different crimes that have happened by their hands? For example, do you know Batman has kidnapped nearly three people and has erased their documents out of the system, making them vanish into thin air, never to be seen?" The reporter's eyes widened at that, your smirk turned into a wide smile as you continued "I have both the video footage and documents of it happening..."

"B-but why do you want to expose them for their deeds, knowing well you are fully aware of what they can do, surely they don't want anyone to know that... " "I have exposed the bad guys of the story already, my mother is after me because of that, so I don't think exposing the heroes would be any different...the world has to know who they truly are!"

You were hellbent on tarnishing the images of the heroes once and for all.

Since the time you had left the Justice League, your life had changed a lot, just within two years, you had gone from being a hero to a villain and then to an anti-hero, a cruel topsy turvey irony. It all had started with your mother finally owning up to her parenting role and had found you in your most vulnerable state when you were struggling to pass your days in your trailer. She took you in and tried in her twisted way to help you, for a short period you felt like you had a family, she seemed genuinely nice. But a few months later, you ended up joining the dark force, how? You still were not sure, all you could remember was your mother's voice echoing in your mind as she puffed a shiny dust in your face, and you shaking hands with the Darkseid himself as he had that disgusting grin on his face. It was after that night that you found out that bitch had manipulated you into joining the bad guys, well who wouldn't want to have a version of Superman in their league that wasn't vulnerable to kryptonite? At first, you tried to pretend that you did want to hurt people just for the fun of it, in your mind, you were taking revenge on your father, who looked devastated whenever you had joint missions with your new teammates.

Well, you couldn't deny that the sheer rush of dopamine you felt was great, no rules were there to hold you back, just destroy and enjoy, the loot was lucrative as well. But, still, something in the back of your mind nagged and you couldn't overlook that you hated hurting vulnerable people and you couldn't do it anymore, so at a very crucial mission, you ended up killing all of your teammates before fleeing. You gave your mother a good beating up before you dropped her on the Arkham's doors and then vanished into an abandoned base until things became normal. After that your way of life became of an anti-hero, you didn't want to admit it but annoying the heroes was fun, at least you weren't killing vulnerable people. You did what they couldn't do, you fought without rules and the results were more drastic.

But you wanted to roast your father more, you wanted to make him burn, and what was better than exposing him? "As for Superman, he at least has killed more than 100 people in his missions, the government has already covered that up but I have the proof...flash has caused a climate change that ended up ruining agriculture of the whole world for a year, resulting in famines, Aquaman has sunk a few ships, that were NOT of military-related, killing civilians, also, Wonder woman has kidnapped a few people...and so on and so forth." You started warming up, mentioning more and more of what you knew.

The reporter took note as you spoke, and you were liking the role of the one exposing the hidden secrets of the heroes. You were actually enjoying it too much, so much in fact that your super-human sense didn't detect the flight of Superman and Superboy coming to your location at a bullet-like speed. And within seconds they both crashed into the warehouse Kool-Aid style, making a huge impact.

You were quick to react, using your laser eyes to attack Super Boy, but Conner was quick to dodge, Clark quickly pulled the reporter out of the range of the fight and out of sight, he let Bruc take care of the reporter and his evidence later, now he had you, his troubling child that was now entering dangerous waters. Conner and you fought, trashing the warehouse even further, you didn't know why but Conner's grin was getting on your nerves already.

The two supers had a plan of taking you down, and it was going pretty smoothly, going just as planned, you grew to angry and Conner used it to his advantage, pinning you down by a broken pillar, giving Clark enough time so he could throw the pollen towards you, damn it! How the hell they had gotten their hands on the special pollen that your mother had created just for controlling you?! You tried to not breathe, but the bitter taste of it already had formed in your mouth, making your mind go foggy. Damn it! Damn it!!!!!!

"We need to talk..." Clark's voice echoed in your mind, your vision was so distorted that you could only see the silhouette of your father approaching you "And we need to talk properly!" His voice made your heart skip...uh oh...Clark was serious.

#yandere #yandere batman #yandere dc #yandere x reader #yandere super family #yandere super boy #yandere superboy #yandere superman #yandere clark kent #yandere conner kent #yandere supergirl #yandere superfam #yandere superfam x reader #yandere x neglected reader

[naomiarai]

Conscious – cbg.

Synopsis : Your best friend's idea for trying to help you stay awake for your finals might be a bit twisted right?

Pairing : beomgyu × afab!reader [non idol au]

Wc : 1.6k

Warnings : dom! gyu, sub!reader, praise, pet names (princess, angel, pretty girl), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.

Disclaimer : the lovely anon who sent an drabble on this. it got deleted, but I decided to write a fic on it. [I wrote this in one sitting while I was drunk so..]

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Finals week was up tight for you. You swore you'd fail if you don't stay up all night studying. Hell that's not seeming to work

Luckily, you had someone to pent up with your version of opposite-insomnia. Beomgyu is annoying, but you still want him around. He's probably the only one keeping you sane when you keep falling asleep instead of racing your eyes on words.

You've managed the ones you couldn't avoid and here you are with the last one. Beomgyu seems careless today. He's sprawled up over your living room couch, his legs crossing over yours. Laptop situated on your lap, your eyes kept closing, only something that touched you lightly jolted you awake.

You scream out in frustration, muttering numerous curse words to yourself. Beomgyu jolts up, wide-eyed. A frown forming on his face.

“Your opera made me lose my game!” he says with an annoying tone. “Gyu, that's the least of my worries right now, I keep fucking falling asleep.” you reply back, clenching your teeth. “Don't disrespect your elders now” he says with a grin on his face. Beomgyu was a year older than you, but that doesn't give him a pass to act so entitled to his age when you act up.

“Nothing's working. I stopped taking melatonin, and all tube lights are turned on” you admit in a low voice. “ I don't get how you fall asleep that easy now. You had insomnia level 100 when you were little” he says in a wondering tone. You groan at him, wishing it were the complete opposite now.

"You know, I heard endorphins can keep you awake” he blurts out randomly. You turn your head towards him, with a small frown on your face. "Endorphins?” you ask. “Yeah, they keep some people awake”. Why did he sound so suspicious? “They're found in chocolate, laughing, listening to music...sex..”

You choked on air as you heard his last word. Sex? Now that's a fact. You haven't had sex in quite some time now...

Beomgyu looks at your bewildered face and scoffs. “What? It's true” he says. He thinks for a split second before he asks “Speaking of sex, when was your last time?” How did he sound so casual? "W-..why are you even asking?, i had two boyfriends in the past soo..” you randomly cut of, going into thought.

“Right, the first guy, who was it? Ah- Jaehoon! An asshole if you ask me” he sounded annoyed saying it even though it didn't look like it. You could tell. But why? “second..was Sunghyun? I didn't like him either” he says as he puts his fingers underneath his chin.

“Why the fuck are you going over my history of boyfriends? ” you ask. Also, he sounded weird talking about Sunghyun as well. He replies after a pause, “Which one actually made you cum?” you froze at his words. Does he actually know what he's saying? “Beomgyu!” you scream, “Why would you even ask?!”

“Oh, so none of them did?” he asks curiously. “Nevermind, ________ just tell me”. You think on his words, the only thing you never told Beomgyu was about your sex life. It's not like he asked anyway. "I-..I've had sex like twice...?” you mumble. He looked puzzled, “Don't tell you've only that two times of sex in only one relationship that lasted like, two and half years..? He got his answer, just because you didn't say anything.

He scoffs out laughing, “Did you cum at least?” he asks with a sigh. You pause for sometime.. was it really that embarrassing? “N-no”. You get back to your senses, getting angrier by the second. “But what does that have to do with me falling asleep?” you retort. “Absolutely nothing!”.

He has that shit-eating grin on his face. God, you just want to wipe it off with a kiss. Wait. What were you thinking? No.

“I'm just saying you know, it works like this, you overwork and start falling asleep too easy then I tell you that sex produces endorphins and they help you stay awake, anddd, he adds, dragging the d sound, you haven't had proper sex”

You roll your eyes at his explanation like it didn't mean anything. It doesn't. ”You're acting like I could go get dick just because I keep falling asleep” you reply back. “It's not like I have a boyfriend now, Gyu” you add on.

“But I'm right here”. He says ever so slowly. You're taken aback, frozen still in your place. “What the fuck are you even saying?” you say, almost whispering. His face and tone remain nonchalant, contradictory to yours. “You say you have no boyfriends, right?, and I'm probably the only guy you talk to”

Should you say yes? It's once and he'll probably never ask again. And he's kind of cute. You'd date him. But you would never tell him this. No, but you did get braver at the moment.

“Is this your excuse at asking if you could fuck me?” you ask calming yourself down with a laugh laced in your voice. He seems to take your presence in for a moment. “Did it work?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“If you want it to” you say quickly before you could do anymore pausing. His grin grows bigger; he slides the laptop off your lap and places it on the transparent coffee table with a soft thud. Connecting his lips with yours, you moan into the kiss at the sudden feeling. His arms wrap around your waist as you sit straight up. “Strawberry?” he asks tasting your chapstick. You simply nod, cupping his cheeks to resume the kiss. “Woah, looks who's actually eager here” he laughs.

He picks you up without breaking the kiss, having your legs on his both his sides. You break the kiss saying, “Not on the bed, I don't have new sheets ready” He chuckles at your prediction. “Who said it had to be on the bed?” He sits back down, with you still straddling his lap. His hands slip underneath your shirt, cold hands caressing your warm body. “I didn't expect you to agree so easily” he asks continuing to kiss your neck. “W-...well you did something about those endorphins...” you whisper. He laughs at you, quite obvious he hadn't bought it.

You sit up straight on his lap for a second, thinking. “But won't we make a mess on the couch?” you ask expendentaly. “If you let me go inside..?” he asks with a smirk. You slap his chest multiple times, his idea has some structural value to not making a mess but won't it.... leak out? God, no you should never think dirty. At least you won't have to change the bed sheets.

He claims your lips again in passionate kiss, hands going down to remove your sweatpants. Your left in a crop top and panties. What a sight. He breaks the kiss to lay you down on the couch. “I'll make you cum, astonishing you never have after you had sex twice” he says dramatically. You roll your eyes at him, to which he scoffed at in a high pitched voice. “Just wait, I'll make you roll your eyes for a valid reason” he says before undoing his belt and discarding his jeans and boxers.

You tried to look away. He had a pretty dick. But will it even fit? “Don't look away at the man who's going to fuck you now” he says playfully, hovering above you. You stare at him for a couple seconds, taking in his features. He moves your panties to the side, taking a look at your glistening pussy. “Need to prep you, angel” he says. Taking his fingers closer, he slips in a finger, extremely tight unsurprisingly. “You groan at the sudden feeling, he adds another finger stretching your walls out, you feel pleasure slowly forming from the slight pain. He continue s to stretch you out, with you letting out loud moans form time to time. He retrieves his fingers back just when you're legs shook. You look at him confused.

“I'm only having you cum on my cock” he says before slipping his hands underneath your shirt and removing your bra. He starts to play with your hardened nipples with slick covered fingers, to which you would scold him for, but it felt too good.

He pulls his hands back, spreading your legs open and removing your panties whole. “Ready princess?” he asks softly to which you nod slowly. He enters you with ease,, still going slowly. You feel so so full. He groans out loud, he mutters a 'so tight' before slowly thrusting in and out. “Mmnh–ngh fuck–” you moan out, the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit, making your roll your eyes back. His pace gets faster, so as his grunts and your moans. “Shit–pretty–you feel s-so good” he grunts. The sound of skin slapping against skin takes over your senses, raw pleasure filling you. “Don't stop! nngh– so s-so good!”

The wet and lewd sounds of his dick going in and out get louder, as he slowed down, dick starting to twitch slightly inside of you. You felt a firework inside your stomach, like a coil so desperate to burst. You think you're about to cum. “G-gyu, think I'm gonna cum fuck—!” you moan. “Yeah? cum for me princess, g-good girl aren't you? cream all over my cock-!” You feel his cockhead slowly hitbyour cervix with each slow thrust as you feel the coil in your stomach collapse, coming all over his cock.

He came after you, filling you up, and it leaked out onto the couch. “That was great” he blurts out tired. You slowly recover form your orgasm, getting back to your senses. “Is this going to be a one time thing or—” You're cut off with a kiss, him saying “Absolutely not. I'm keeping you angel” you simply smile at him.

“But gyu didn't you tell sex kind of helps you stay awake, I really don't think that's for me..?” He takes in your words, “It is for some people...” he says before his eyes light up with a grin plastered on hif face. “So round two?”

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt beomgyu #beomgyu #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu imagines #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu smut #beomgyu fluff #txt imagines #txt fic #txt fanfiction #txt ff #txt fanfic #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu ff #beomgyu fic #txt x reader #txt x you #txt x y/n #beomgyu x y/n #txt x oc #beomgyu x you #txt oneshots

[dear-ao3]

Question for the mods....

HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU MEET???

Like what???

How??

I am so god damn curious about you two. I wanna study yall under a microscope lol

Also ngl kinda envious of how close of friends you two seem to be. (Being an introverted shy af mofo sucks lmao)

I would actually probably read a whole ass book or watch a sitcom or something of the seemingly ever present weird-ass shit that seems to happen on a day-by-day basis.

/gen /lh /nf /pos

2018 newsies fandom. we weren't overly close but we bonded over race and albert a little and then katya dropped off the face of the earth for about a year.

during 2020 lockdown we both independently got into the witcher fandom and somehow ran into eachother again and had the fingers pointing OH MY GOD Y O U !!! moment in our dms. we bonded over hating jaskier. during this time we realized we were both dancers and katya was looking at dance colleges, i was already in college for dance and since it was lockdown and we couldn't go anywhere i told katya my experience auditioning at places to give him a good idea of places. and then i broke every internet safety rule known to man and said hey what if you had applied to my college but didnt know it?? and then one thing led to another and i dished out all the tea on my school. (only After that did we face reveal and give eachother our names lol) and then katya applied. mostly as a joke. until it wasnt a joke because that school gave katya a shit load of money and actually had stuff katya wanted to do. katya ended up coming to one of my zoom ballet classes and it took everything we had to not loose our shit on camera.

during this time we mostly kept eachother sane in lockdown writing witcher fanfic, and sending eachother awful thirst traps on instagram to pitbull music. one of our awful bits was using the dilf filter to make bad frat boy edits.

come august of 2021 we both moved into college. the same college. in the same building. it was wild. i pinched myself several times in shock. we went on a walk around campus with some worms on strings and were like what the hell how did we get here.

we continued to hang out and did weird insane things together. we took a class on the french revolution together where i had to put up with katya and fennec awkwardly flirting (read: making finger guns at eachother).

and then, since i was 2 years older, i was graduating and was going to stay in the area for a job and was like hey. what if we got an apartment together? and then we did. several adults agreed to this. idk why they let us. but now we live together in a real life apartment and we haven't even killed eachother yet. neither of our parents know that we met online. each of them have a different fake story as to how we know eachother and we really just hope they are never in the same room long enough to ask eachother about it. but its insane. 12/10 would recommend.

katya wanted me to include old tumblr screenshots of us talking, heres what i found from circa 2020:

we've always been like this lol

and heres some ancient greatest hits from instagram, i dont have context and trust me you dont want it:

every now and then the two of us look at eachother and go. how the fuck did we end up here??? (we have no idea)

#not a tag #from saph #storytime ig lol #sorry for the god awful quality #essentially we are basically dan and phil which is insane

[muertawrites]

I Know What Those Stains Are (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: i feel like robin’s face explains it all, really

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: PG-13 references to s*x and dr*gs, Robin being the best worst friend (ilhsm), pure shenanigans, harsh language in the author’s note bc i’m a motherfucking lady and you bitches can’t do shit about it

Author’s Note: this ended up longer than i thought it would but it was worth it tbh. i stg dissociating with eddie munson-colored glasses on is the only thing keeping me sane right now. i’m so fucking depressed. pray for me to finish my masters dissertation and immediately fuck right out of the shithole i’m stuck in to the life i fucking deserve ✌🏻

"Eddie has these... weird stains on his sheets."

Robin stares at you pointedly from the other side of your kitchen island, her lips curled into a tiny, knowing smirk.

Damn her and her privileged security clearance.

Being best friends ("We're soulmates," Robin always insists) means you have a pact - top secret information is kept closely between you, nothing held back or excluded. She'd come out to you before she even came out to her parents because she knew you wouldn't be weird about it. Your relationship is one of pure, unadulterated, platonic adoration, which means everything is safe.

And is exactly why she's pried about your "friendship" (as she refers to it, always with air quotes) with Eddie Munson since the two of you started hanging out a little over a year ago. He fixed your car at a steep discount when it needed emergency service; when you ran into him at one of his shows the following week, you bought him a drink to thank him, and the rest is history.

"I've never been in his room so I wouldn't know," you lie.

Robin laughs.

"You call me from his place once a week," she retorts. "It's a suspicious amount of time to spend with the local pot dealer for someone who freaks out with even the slightest contact high."

"I told you, he's just nice," you groan. "What's so bad about me hanging out with a nice guy? You've seen the guys I usually get caught up with, and you have to admit, Eddie's a huge improvement."

Robin snaps her attention back to you, eyes wide and smile wider as she freezes over the popcorn she's watching on the stove.

"So you admit it," she says. "He's... a guy... and he’s... huge..."

She waggles her eyebrows. You grab a marshmallow from the open pack on the counter and lob it at her, smacking her right between the eyes.

"He's a boy that I'm friends with," you correct her. "That doesn't make him my boyfriend."

"Does this friendship come with a benefits package?"

She gives you bedroom eyes over her shoulder, taunting you. You stare back at her, expressionless.

"You went into an alternate dimension," you comment, "and all you can think to talk to me about are Eddie Munson’s sheets. Unbelievable."

"You also went into that dimension," Robin reminds you. "There's nothing I can say that you haven't already seen. You guys have just gotten a lot closer since we all saved the world together, and I was just... wondering."

She shrugs like it means nothing as she transfers the popcorn from its pan into a bowl, but her cheeky gaze through her lashes at you tells you otherwise.

She totally knows. She's just waiting for you to admit it.

The rumble of an engine outside cuts your conversation short, the familiar clunk of a door slamming shut making your heart leap into your throat. Robin notices the tiny change in your expression, how your eyes light up the moment the van rolls into your driveway, and her smirk grows all the more sinister.

"Prince Charming has arrived," she teases.

You aggressively ignore her as Eddie's heavy footsteps ring down the hall, the man himself appearing moments later. You're thankful when he refrains from kissing you on the cheek, as he usually does the second he’s close enough. 

"Hey!" he greets you both, slapping a large hand on your shoulder in an entirely friendly, totally unromantic display of affection. Robin isn't immune to the way his hand stays there, migrating to the back of your neck, his thumb tenderly stroking at your skin.

"What brings you over, party crasher?" she wonders.

"Oh, just dropping off a mixtape."

He slips the cassette smoothly into your hand, which you cover up with the sleeve of your sweatshirt before Robin has a chance to glimpse what's on the label.

"Mind if I grab a beer?" Eddie asks. "Partake in some popcorn?"

"You're gonna do it anyway, so go crazy," you reply.

He grins sweetly at you, giving your bum an appreciative squeeze below the counter where Robin can't see it.

"Too late!"

He bounds out of the room, disappearing into the living room with a Bud Lite and a fistful of popcorn in his hand. Your “girls only” movie night has just become a “girls only plus Eddie” one. 

The air in the room grows tense. You stand perfectly still, both you and Robin staring each other down, waiting to see who’ll speak first. Her gaze is smoldering, burning into yours with ruthless intention. 

“Didn’t know you guys had an open doors policy,” she finally notes. “It’s all very... interesting.” 

She slowly starts to stalk around the corner of the island, trailing her hand nonchalantly (or what she thinks is nonchalantly) across the countertop. You back up, taking one step for each of hers, knowing exactly what she’s about to do. 

That still doesn’t stop you from shrieking as she jumps you, her hands snatching at the cassette tape now tucked inside your sweatshirt sleeve. 

“Robin, you’re acting totally feral!” you yell, trying in vain to keep her out of your shirt. 

She cackles as she wrestles the little rectangle of plastic from your grasp, shoving her hand into your face to keep you back as you claw at her. Her eyes widen and jaw drops as she reads the label, an incredulous laugh escaping her throat. 

“Songs We’re Gonna Bone To?!” she howls, reading the title aloud. “Oh my god, you guys made a mixtape to have sex to?! I knew it!” 

You cross your arms, pressing your lips harshly together as you glare at her, wishing you could make her head explode. 

“See, this is why I didn’t say anything,” you quip. “... And Eddie made it, not me.” 

Robin’s neck audibly cracks, she turns around so fast. She looks like a seven year old kid who’s just woken up on Christmas morning. 

“What’s on it?” she whispers. 

She’s out the door before you can answer, sprinting down the hall into your bedroom and smacking the tape inside your player so fast she’s little more than a blur. Queen’s Fat Bottomed Girls starts blaring from the speakers, causing a fierce blush to erupt across your cheeks. She slaps the skip button, moving on to KISS’s I Was Made For Lovin’ You, followed by Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me. You bury your face in your hand, entirely unable to meet her gaze as she savors your embarrassment. 

“What a massive cheese ball,” she chuckles. “Is the sex good, though? Like, he’s given you at least one orgasm, right?” 

You’re laying face down on your bed, craving the sweet release of death when Eddie appears in the doorway.

“Why the hell’s everyone screaming?” he questions, frantic. “Did another portal open up? Baby, are you okay?” 

“Aaaaaahhhh he calls you BABY!” Robin shrieks. She doubles over, collapsing to the floor in hysterical laughter.

You sit up, taking one of the pillows off your mattress and chucking it at Eddie. He catches it, just barely, stumbling backward in shock and confusion. 

“Change your fucking sheets, Munson!” 

🌹💀 get your eddie fix 💀🌹

#muerta's works #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you smut

[kiachiako]

stars, moons, & other celestial bodies | j.jh

pairing | jaehyun x female!reader

synopsis | With your fizzy drinks and vinyls in tow, you’re determined to make the most of your summer before the start of your first year at university. Everything’s seemingly perfect; humid afternoons with your closest friends, late-night mixers at your local alumnis' estates, and sleeping in to ungodly hours. What you didn’t predict, however, was your brother making the early trip home to surprise you with a certain someone — namely, his best friend since childhood — following closely behind. His unexpected appearance throws you off, and suddenly, your summer is filled to the brim with his presence. You’re finally able to taste the idea of mature love, but is it really all that it’s made out to be?

content | brother!taeyong, retro-themed au, angst, fluff, coming of age, language warning, suggestive, mentions and consumption of alcohol/drugs

wc | 26.7k

song | delicate — taylor swift

a/n | for @hyuckmov and @rrxnjun, who kept me sane while writing this monster :D

...

The first week of summer before your freshman year of university is defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner; break has been this way since as long as you could remember. It's a familiar itinerary, one that plays back routinely every school break.

You’ve grown up without even realizing, your teenage days spent juggling academic work and getting into stupid situations with Mark and Chaewon trickling down to a close. This conclusion really hit you during an epiphany on a sweltering night after high school graduation. 

It occurred in the midst of humid sepia air, the three of you still in your graduation caps and gowns as your bodies lay splayed across the asphalt leading down to your street. With the absence of cars coming down the wide road, it was perfectly rational to lay side by side in the middle of the cul-de-sac. The ground was simply the best place to ponder your thoughts and get lost in swirling memories now that university lay too close on the horizon; the sheer size of the sky seemed to mock your trio as you watched the clouds roll on by in their mismatched shapes and harrowing wisps. 

A cigar — one comically too big for his face — hung between Mark’s fingers as he pushed his body to flop over your arm, the thing no doubt “borrowed” from the bottom of his father’s office drawer.

“Thank the Lord I’ll never have to see you bitches again,” he had sighed in pretend relief, blowing a tunnel of smoke into the side of your face as you pushed his warm skin off of yours. Chaewon snorted from beside you.

“Please, as if you’ll last a day without us at uni,” she retorted, rolling over onto her stomach and pulling a face at Mark’s teasing words. “I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve saved your life over this past month alone.”

“Yeah?” Mark grinned, supporting his upper body with his forearms as he turned to look at her over your relaxed figure. “Enlighten me.” She subsequently raised her eyebrows at him.

“Might I remind you of the time you got stuck at the drive-through cinema at 2am because you had locked yourself out of your car? And guess whose asses had to haul yours back home two hours away,” Chaewon pointed an accusing finger at Mark, her tone joking as she glared at said boy. He opened his mouth to say something but she held up a finger to her mouth in a shushing motion, stopping him. “And. Let’s not forget last week,” Mark furrowed his eyebrows, as if trying to recall which out of all the dumb decisions he had made was about to be relived, “when Kang Yujin pushed up on you during that one house party, you got a hard on from just that, and we had to cover for you-”

Mark shot up abruptly, leaning over you to slap a hand over Chaewon’s mouth before rushing to defend himself.

“But she was so hot, Chae, you wouldn’t understand,” he whined at her, frowning at you to do something and sympathize with him. It was expected by now, the regular petty and half-assed arguments making your friendship that much stronger.

As they continued bickering back and forth, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift away back into the clouds, the setting sun soaking them with a blazing, burnt umber. You would be going to college soon, and that meant no Mark, no Chaewon, and no parents to keep you sane. It was strange to imagine not spending every waking moment with your two best friends, and even stranger to think that going to different schools would mean no more daily drama fill-ins and midnight convenience store runs.

But after all, you had done it once, and you hoped you could do it again.

When your older brother Taeyong left for university a few years ago, it had practically shattered you. Sure, you found him incredibly annoying at times (still do) and had a constant vendetta against the man, but when the moment came to hug him goodbye, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let go. He had shown you the ins and outs of adolescence and given you the attention you craved when your parents couldn’t. He taught you how to take care of yourself, how to look in the mirror and recognize your worth, how to know your own limits, and how to realize that high school boys weren’t shit. He was always the first to get to the hospital when you had gotten hurt at school, and most important of all, he was with you throughout the highs and lows growing up.

If Taeyong leaving home had taught you anything, it was that time moves too fast — and it’ll only move faster as you get older. You know that your life is about to enter Round 2, and this time without anyone to hold your hand as you enter an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people.

But it’s not over just yet.

Your best friends would never let that happen, and you recognize this now as your golden trio sits in your town’s local record shop, with ceiling fans whirring above you as the cool storefront protects you from the blazing summer heat.

It’s after-hours but the sun still burns bright into the late afternoon. You recline in the cashier chair as Chaewon flips the 'open' sign closed and makes her way back to you and Mark, the latter sitting against the wall with a variety of bottles surrounding him on the checkered floor. 

He’s in an odd position, and you just know his mother would flip if she saw him with this much alcohol on a wednesday afternoon (at least it’s not a Sunday after mass, but she definitely doesn’t need to know that he’s been there, done that already). Mark tests out new concoctions every week, using the record store as his work space; the owner’s never in town and barely any customers come in to buy records these days, so there’s no one to stop him. Chaewon raises her eyebrows as she eyes the newest addition to his special menu.

“I’m not even gonna ask,” you say as he swirls the amber liquid around in a clean whisky bottle. Mark whistles at his creation, impressed, before holding it up to you and shaking it tauntingly. It smells slightly floral, the sharp flavors of absinthe and cognac making your nose scrunch.

“You’re just mad that your mixes don’t hit as hard as mine, baby.” With another swirl, he lifts the drink up to his mouth to taste. “And because you so nicely asked,” Mark smirks at you, “it’s Peychaud’s Bitters, cognac, syrup, and anise, and I give you my permission to borrow the recipe to impress your future uni friends. You’re welcome.” You shove Mark’s shoulder with your palm as he laughs at your baffled expression, body shaking with amusement while he sips away at his newest pride. 

It’s only when Chaewon reaches over to steal the bottle away from him that your phone starts ringing, startling all three of you as the name of your older brother flashes across the screen. Mark looks at you inquisitively, but you just shrug in response and press the receive button.

“Tae?” you inquire, surprised at the sudden call. “Everything okay?”

He hums at the end of the line. 

“More than okay. Guess whose plans just changed and is actually coming home today for break,” he reveals right away, and you know he’s smiling by the way his tone of voice is lilted in true Taeyong fashion.

“No fucking way,” you breathe out, eyes widening. Taeyong’s back? “Today, right now? For the entire summer? You’re actually lying- wait wait I’m coming home right now. Wait. Wait for me.”

“‘Wait wait wait,’ I’m not going anywhere sis,” he grins as he mocks you, noises of shuffling sounding out over your phone speaker. “Mom’s gonna pick me up from the airport in 30, I think. See you then?”

“Lee Taeyong! How could you not tell me,” you frown into the receiver, “I need at least three business days to prepare before seeing your face.”

“Oh, shut up would you. I have literal voicemail receipts of you crying about how much you miss me,” Taeyong retorts, topping your sarcasm. 

You sigh, rubbing your temple when you realize that Taeyong’s never gonna let your sad-drunk voicemails go. “Fine, but you better spend every single day with me.”

Taeyong protests jokingly before giving in, promising you that he’ll make up for the time you’ve missed together. With a little, love you, and more of his usual unsolicited comments, the two of you say your quick goodbyes and you turn back to your waiting friends. 

“Damn, Taeyong’s really back?” Mark looks at you in awe, his eyes shining with admiration. “He never stays for long, that’s crazy. You gotta let me come over at least once,” he pleads, hands grabbing yours. You know that your best friend looks up to your brother a ton, so you nod at him. “Sick, imma finally be able to talk music with him.”

“Wait, if Taeyong’s coming home for the entire summer,” Chaewon pauses, a knowing smile growing on her face as you groan, knowing exactly what she’s about to say next, “that means a certain Jeong Jaehyun will probably be following him back as well. And likely other kids in their year too from SNU… holy shit, the parties are gonna be literally insane this summer.” She throws her head back in elation as the realization strikes the three of you at once.

“You’re so right,” Mark covers his mouth to hide the smug grin taking over his face. He makes a heart with his hands as he observes you. “I can’t believe that I forgot Miss Y/N over here had the biggest crush on Jaehyun in high school.” You hit him on the chest in response as he absolutely loses it over your misfortune. 

“Lovergirl,” he sing-songs, adding fuel to the fire while you shove your face into your palms. Your cheeks warm on their own when your mind flash-backs to your second year of high school, your insufferable crush on your brother’s best friend surfacing memories that you had buried after they both had graduated two years ago.

“I’m leaving,” you mumble into your hands, “all you two do is make me suffer.” 

Chaewon grins at you before pulling your figure into a tight hug, tugging Mark in too by his shirt to join your little group. 

“It’s out of love,” she giggles before kissing your cheek with an exaggerated muah. Turning slowly towards Mark, he lets out a, “nope nope nope,” before scrambling away from Chaewon’s outstretched arms.

Smiling at their antics, you collect your few belongings and tuck some new records under your arm before heading out of the shop. Saluting your friends goodbye and opening the front door, you cringe at the wave of heat that seeps into the cool space. 

“Say hi to Taeyong for me, Y/N! We’ll lock up for today,” Chaewon calls out from behind the counter, sending you an air kiss when you step out into your town’s center square.

The streets buzz with life as you make the quick walk back to your house. With a brilliant sunset soaking the streets in tangerine tones and a line of quaint shops’ wind chimes fluttering beside you, you can’t bring yourself to care about the heat. The alleys you stroll down are comfy, lined with the latest pastel DeLoreans and colorful paper garlands tied along their telephone lines. It’s a complete memory lane, and your comfy suburb — filled with traditional gaewa roofs and terracotta neutrals, clay-red stained roads and gated hanoks — hold a familiarity that no other could replace. It’s the more cramped side of town, and you might envy Taeyong’s thrilling city life that you see through his social media, but nothing will ever beat home.

Your lace camisole sticks to your skin with fervor as you finally get to your own address, letting out a sigh of relief when cool shade encompasses you in the juniper-tinted light of the mudroom. Setting your brand-new records onto the kitchen floor, their faded titles peeking over thin paper sheaths, you make yourself comfortable on the floor as you hum to yourself. The house is quiet.

You put one of the new records into your player before your gaze drifts over to a stack of pictures on the tabletop, filtered evenly between stray letters and tacky postcards that your older brother has always had a knack for. 

In addition to texting and calling home every month, Taeyong made it a habit a few years ago to send you the little magazine cut-outs and mini posters that he sees on his escapades, trinkets that remind him of you. Your little kitchen-counter-collection has thinned out in the past months as your brother got increasingly busier with school and his modeling jobs, barely coming home for a few days before rushing back for castings and elite functions. Nonetheless, a little orange package addressed to you would appear at your doorstep with each change of the seasons, tinged with your brother’s cologne and topped with his messy handwriting.

Just as you place the needle on a shiny black record with Missy Elliot’s face plastered across its front, you hear the front door creak open before noises of rolling luggage and playful shouting fill the house's interior. 

“Mom, I’m not ten anymore,” you hear Taeyong whine in the higher-pitched voice he reserves solely for family, the telltale sign of his embarrassment, “I can carry my backpack myself. Promise.”

You can imagine the scene before you even see it: your brother looking away to the window as he tries to fight the smile creeping on his face, your mother on her tip-toes as she musses with her son’s hair even though he’s a head taller, and of course, your father leaning against the door with a content grin as his watches his wife’s face light up with happiness that the family is together again.

When you hear their footsteps near your seated figure on the kitchen floor, you feel your brother’s presence before you even see him. 

Taeyong stops a few paces away from you, dropping his bag carelessly on the ground before standing with his arms outstretched and eyebrows raised. With his messy hair and airport clothes still hanging off his shoulders, your brother looks like a favorite uncle at holiday dinners when he hasn’t seen his favorite niece and nephew all year.

“Aren’t you gonna come say hi to your best friend before you abandon me for your vinyls again,” he teases before crossing the threshold in three steps and embracing you fully. “It’s been a while, hmm rockstar?” 

You hum at the familiar term of endearment, sinking into his figure as your brother rocks you back and forth. You look up at him, his face looking more mature and sharp than when you saw him last.

“You gotta catch me up on that crazy life of yours, yeah? We have all summer.”

Nodding contently, you follow your brother and parents into the dining room for dinner before settling back into the feeling of having four people at home again. Just like the old days, before Taeyong left, where your worries were limited and you allowed yourself to be childish.

…

If anything makes you glad you’re alive, it’s being able to wake up at 2pm in the afternoon on a Thursday and feeling you just gained ten years. It’s truly a blessing, and if you were a bit more religious, you’d be thanking God right now for no school and black-out curtains.

Quickly getting ready, you give one last glance at yourself in the mirror before rushing downstairs to see if anyone’s home still. To your surprise, you catch Taeyong right as he’s opening the door to the basement. 

“So she’s alive,” he calls out with an approving nod, surprised that you actually managed to wake up before the sun sets once again. You roll your eyes as you pull cereal in front of you on the kitchen table. The two of you are back to your old ways in a matter of hours, making fun of each other at every chance you get.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to enjoy life, Tae,” you shrug, grabbing leftovers from the fridge. He simply tsks at you before walking over to affectionately ruffle your hair, drawing a complaint from you about messing it up.

“Anyway, some of my old friends are coming over today to catch up. We’re probably gonna be downstairs for a while so just let them in the front when they come,” your brother relays, moving back towards the basement when you throw up an okay sign. He gives you a knowing look. “You’re always welcome to join, you know. They all love you.”

You crinkle your nose at the idea. Sure, you’re pretty familiar with most of Taeyong’s high school friends, but you really aren’t too keen on the idea of spending your afternoon with a bunch of older boys when you could be hanging out with Mark and Chaewon.

“I’m okay. You guys have fun, though.”

Resuming your attention on your food, you open the front door a couple times over the next hour for said boys. Their features chiseled, styles changed, and voices a bit deeper, they’re all caught by surprise when you open the door for them (Yuta’s inability to recognise you at all really takes the cake). You suppose that a lot can change in two years.

After the seventh ring of the doorbell, you sigh in exasperation before making your way to the front once again. You grumble under your breath before opening the door, the bitter expression wiping right off your face when you see the two figures in front of you.

“Johnny!”

“Y/N,” the familiar boy exclaims, his towering stature enveloping you in a warm hug before pulling back and examining your growth. “Look who’s all pretty and grown! You look so much like Taeyong now that it’s scary,” he beams at you while turning your face side to side with his hands, and you can’t help but return it. If anyone was as much of an older brother figure as your real one was, it would be Johnny. 

“Hey,” a voice sounds out besides him after a few moments of Johnny’s compliments, startling you, and your eyes finally flick over to the subject of your teenage years’ daydreams. Your heart floods with a jittery feeling when he reaches out to give you a hug. “It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” 

Jeong Jaehyun hasn’t changed a bit since you last saw him at your brother’s graduation. 

His hair is a bit longer now, dark brown curls shimmering gold in the sunlight and his ears now adorned with more silver studs and rings. But the sun-kissed freckles dusting his nose, the deep-set dimples, the starry eyes — they’re exactly the same as you remember.

He’s still breathtaking.

Johnny bursts your little moment as he grabs your arm to lead you back into your house, pulling both you and Jaehyun along with him to the basement entrance. 

Even though you’re painfully aware of your fingers nervously playing with the bracelets on your wrist, it’s true that these boys practically watched you grow up. Even when you look at a certain brown-eyed boy, your whole world feels like it's stopping. Even when your stupid childhood crush on your brother’s best friend was supposed to be gone by now. You know them, and they know you.

After Johnny and Jaehyun disappear down the stairs with a small goodbye and the invitation to join them once again, you head back up to your own room, collapsing onto your bed and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across your ceiling. 

You remember your brother and Jaehyun setting them up for you many years ago, their young figures using your bed as leverage to stick them on when you were still too short to reach. You had handed each star carefully to the boys, making sure the adhesive side was up before telling them where to place each one. They waited patiently for you to give them every star until the whole box was empty, the three of you high fiving before you had thanked them enthusiastically. Taeyong had simply pinched your cheek and said, “anything for my baby sister,” before pulling Jaehyun away to play another video game in the living room. 

Taeyong was a kind older brother, never complaining when your mother told him to bring you with him and his friends on their little adventures. Occasionally he found you annoying, but his friends never minded your presence, so he couldn’t find a reason to either. You were integrated into their daily outings, the boys taking turns talking and playing games with you as the days progressed.

You think your liking to Jaehyun started then: when your young mind easily confused admiration with puppy love. Your brother’s friends were the nicest boys you had met, certainly nicer than the boys in your class at school. Jaehyun specifically always made sure you were comfortable, making silly faces at you when your eyes met across the room and remembering to bring you snacks from across the street when he got some for his best friend. He was perfect in your eyes.

When you started hanging out more with your own friends as you got older, things never really changed regarding your feelings for the boy. Your secret crush was still as prominent as ever, eyes following his mess of hair whenever he passed you in the hallway at school; it didn’t help that his name was passed around no matter what year you were. Jaehyun this and Jaehyun that, you were definitely not the only girl whose heartbeat stopped whenever he looked their way. He was polite, confident, and undeniably charming, your school’s beloved basketball team captain and a favorite of teachers: the kind of boy everyone wanted to be out of envy, but couldn’t. He was truly untouchable. Your classmates would stare at you in awe when he waved at you through the classroom entrance, telling you how lucky you were that your brother and his group were so cool and how you had guys like Jaehyun over all the time. 

But it wasn’t like it was any different at home, where he would smile at you just the same as you worked on your homework in the kitchen before retreating back into the basement with Taeyong. 

Even though fifteen year-old you thought your feelings were pretty damn strong at that time, the age gap felt a bit too gaping where kids two years older felt worlds away. By seventeen, they were already off driving and taking weekend trips, your brother’s license making leeway for nights when he and his friends wouldn’t return until sunrise. It felt a little bit like you had been left behind, and yeah, it sucked, but you decided right then and there that you could have fun without them. Taeyong’s friends weren’t necessarily yours in the first place, and you came to the realization that it might have been strange for you to be so close with them at an older age anyway.

If you were sad about not seeing Jaehyun in particular too much anymore, you tried not to show it. Your best friends — Mark and Chaewon — had always known, teasing you relentlessly when the older boy was around, but the idea of him was only a lingering thought at the back of your mind when he graduated. Your ears still perked up hearing his name in passing, but you had your own problems to consume your thoughts and started getting into a new genre of trouble with your friends; the idea of Jaehyun was supposed to be dead and buried six feet under.

So then why was he plaguing your mind like this after years of successfully not thinking about him?

You groan and throw an arm over your face.

Shit.

…

“My little film-maker,” a voice pops up from above you, the grinning face of your brother accompanying it as he surprises you into oblivion. You make a face up at him and offer a reluctant little wave before returning back to your camcorder, zooming in on Chaewon beside you.

You’re on the asphalt outside your house again. The air’s cooler today, a gray sheet of clouds blocking any of the sun’s rays from reaching your golden trio. With your head on Mark’s legs, he strums his guitar gently as Chaewon hums along to the familiar tunes. Her hands are busy on their own, one arm out while her other uses markers to draw a garden into her skin with washed-out blues and oranges. 

You turn the camera around to point at Taeyong, the said boy poking his tongue out before plopping down beside Mark.

“I feel like I always find you guys on the ground,” he mutters, observing the way Mark strums his instrument with care and experience. Your friend looks a little intimidated with the proximity of Taeyong leaning towards him, but he plays on nevertheless.

You shrug. “It’s more comfortable.”

“And we’re a little closer to Hell down here,” Chaewon adds on with a grin, pausing from her flesh-art to look up at Taeyong. “We’ll all be heading there soon anyway.”

“Smart girl,” he laughs out, throwing his head back to stare into the sky. He stays there for a good moment before jumping back up onto his feet and twirling a shiny set of car keys around his fingers. “Anyway, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N for a bit,” your brother fakes a trail of tears down his cheek with his fist. “Don’t miss her too much.”

“Never,” Mark smirks at you, reaching out to pat your arm affectionately when you let out an offended, Oscar worthy sob at his words. 

“Don’t have more fun with him than you do with us, babe,” she calls out as Taeyong drags you off. You salute her back before she turns back to her painting.

Stumbling behind your brother to catch up with his long strides, your eyebrows raise when you catch sight of his infamous red Cadillac parked down the winding road. You grip on tighter to your camcorder before jogging up to the passenger side, ready to swing your legs over the side of the convertible. 

“Not so fast,” Taeyong calls out, amused, as he strolls up casually to the driver's side. “We’re picking up some of the guys and Johnny already called shotgun yesterday. Take it up with him, rockstar.”

You splutter indignantly before crossing to the backseat with a huff, sinking into the car’s tan, leather seats and crossing your arms. “Not fair, Tae,” you complain at him before he starts the engine, starting off in the direction of an area you’ve never been before. “Where are we even going?”

He doesn’t answer.

Soon enough, three more bodies crowd into your brother’s car after dropping by Jungwoo’s condo, the boy squishing into the back with you as Jaehyun of all people slides into the seat on the other side of you. They offer smiles and quick greetings to you before the car takes off once again. 

His proximity hits you far harder than Jungwoo’s, and you know exactly why. You keep your head tilted away from him as you try to focus on Johnny in the front seat, who’s passionately retelling an encounter he had at the supermarket this morning. It’s incredibly hard when Jaehyun moves and his thigh touches yours, fifteen year-old you coming back to life within you and screaming all sorts of insane things at your brain. You can physically feel his warmth radiating off his skin. 

“—so we both reach out at the same time, and luckily, I snatch the crate right before her hands do. But,” Johnny pauses to look through the rearview mirror for dramatic effect, his shades glinting as the Cadillac speeds through dusty roads. “You won’t believe who those hands belonged to.”

He stills with the skill of an A-list actor, reaching up to pluck the sunnies off his face and stare right into Jaehyun’s eyes through the silver glass.

“Lim Saemi.”

Everybody has a different reaction to the name-drop, with Jungwoo and Taeyong’s gasp and your muffled noise ringing out as your eyes widen in the slightest. You try to glance at Jaehyun subtly, and his face doesn’t flicker a bit from its usual stoic expression, but you can feel him tense up next to you before relaxing a few seconds later. He appears seemingly unphased, and if you had not been watching carefully from out of the corner of your eye you would have fallen for it.

You know better, though.

“Oh? Is she back home for the summer too?” Jaehyun throws out casually, tucking his chin in his hand as he looks out through the wind. 

“Wait Jae… you didn’t know? I thought if anyone would know first, it would be you,” Jungwoo leans back, surprised at this new development. “Even I knew, and everyone knows I don’t catch onto shit.”

“It’s whatever,” Jaehyun mumbles, deflecting the weird looks he receives. He ends the conversation with two words, and the car falls into silence with the only noises being those from tires against gravel. You glance at him before staring straight forward through the dash.

You know Lim Saemi.

Who doesn’t, in all honesty. Saemi is Saemi, and you’d be the weird one if you hadn’t heard her name at least once throughout your school years. She was like straight out of a Dior catalog. With as much impact as your older brother and his posse had left, she was everything all the girls in your year wanted to be: too pretty to be unnecessarily shallow, too smart to use her looks irrationally. 

You remember Lim Saemi.

She’s two years older, like Taeyong and Jaehyun and Johnny. She was the girl who was occasionally over at your house during parties when your brother would force you upstairs, her bleached hair and delicate features drawing in everyone immediately. You remember watching from the top of the stairwell as her figure still captured attention in the darkness of winter’s pitch black nights. From your outside point of view, it was like she was the center of a spindling web that stretched throughout the bottom floor of your house; people just couldn’t help but be lured to her.

You wanted to be Lim Saemi.

Just for one day. You needed to know what it felt like to be the center of a certain boy’s affections, even though she attracted every other person’s along the way as well. She was a different type of suburban it-girl, one that everyone was sure would get snatched up into the celebrity world sooner or later with the way she carried herself.

You knew that Jaehyun and Saemi had always been “just friends” — or at least that was what they told everyone — but you could tell he had liked her throughout their high school years. How could you not, especially when you looked at him the same way he looked at her. Back then, it was more curiosity about their complicated relationship than hate fueled jealousy for you. You still couldn’t help but imagine him treating you with the affection he did with her; even as a teenager, you understood why. And ironically, as you sit in the backseat of your brother’s car with the very boy right beside you, the bubbling feeling of envy is uncomfortable in your gut.

Shaking your head out of your retrospective thoughts, you look around in confusion when the convertible starts to slow on a thinning road, towering evergreens blocking the sky from view.

Leading the car through another winding path, it emerges on the other side within acres of grassy fields and wildflower paths that circles a grandiose, central estate home. Marble blocks stretch across its stone ledges like ivy — an intimidating facade if you’ve ever seen one. Taeyong looks at you through the rearview mirror. His eyes crease in pride when he sees the wonder in yours, enraptured by the sight before you. 

“Remember when Johnny said that he’d always wanted to go to a local car show?” your brother starts, grinning at his friend beside him. “Well, yours truly saw an ad at the record shop yesterday for one just outside of town. Someone compliment me, I feel like I just made all of our afternoons a thousand times better.”

“This is actually insane, Yong,” Jungwoo breathes out, eyes widening at the unfamiliar setting. 

Retro cars of all brands and models are parked across an acre, their shiny coats glinting in the sun as masses of people linger near and talk amongst themselves. The white pillars of whoever’s home is hosting the car show serves as a gathering place for lovers to mingle, precariously held champagne flutes an ironic contrast to the grit and dirt of the event itself.

Johnny lets out a low whistle before resting his weight on the center console and lowering his sunglasses, observing the scene. 

“This is exactly my type of place. Old, rich people and hot girls.” 

“Oh my god, Johnny,” you laugh out, not at all surprised that those words came from his mouth. 

You tear your gaze away from the outside view to look at Jaehyun after hearing his embarrassed groan at Johnny’s words. To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. With his piercing gaze on your face, you look away, flustered, playing it off with a small cough.

Taeyong parks his timeless Cadillac besides others of the same nature before leaving to roam around with Johnny and Jungwoo, buzzing with excitement. It’s no surprise that they make their way over to the group of girls huddled around a vintage truck model first, their giggles ringing out across the field as they throw sly glances to the boys headed their way. You catch sight of your brother leaning towards one in particular before deciding you’ve seen enough and turning to explore by yourself.

Thrilled to be left to your own devices, you follow your own little path off to the side towards a pastel-colored Corvette that had caught your eye earlier. Circling it for a few minutes and capturing it slowly through the lens of your camcorder, you smile happily to yourself while replaying the footage in the shade of a lonely willow tree. The cool breeze brings tangs of clementines and vanilla — from where, you don’t know — as well as the unmistakable scent of petrol and cigarettes as it picks up pieces of your hair before rustling the leaves of the willow.

“Can I see?” a familiar voice startles you. You look up to see Jaehyun’s lean figure making his way over to your crouched one, gesturing to your open camera with his head tilted. “If you’re comfortable, of course,” he adds, the corners of his lips quirking up. Mouth agape slightly for a few seconds, you shake yourself out of your momentary funk and nod, thrilled at his interest.

“The colors show up really well with this lighting, especially ‘cuz I just changed my saturation settings,” you mumble, stopping yourself when you realize he probably doesn’t care that much. Tucking your knees to your chest, you wait nervously as you hand the device to him.

You think your heartbeat just about stops when he replies with a “that’s so cool” under his breath.

Jaehyun holds the camera carefully to his chest before sitting down beside you, leaning against the tree trunk before flipping through your gallery. He takes his time watching every little video clip and picture, giving you a little noise of approval every few clicks. 

You’re caught off guard when he sighs and puts the camcorder back in your lap, turning to you with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen grace his features. 

“Y/N, you seriously might be better at this shit than the literal mixed media majors at my uni,” he deadpans. Taken aback, you can’t stop the rosy warmth that creeps up your cheeks. “I’m being so for real right now. Don’t ever stop.”

You pause.

“Do you know how reassuring that is to hear, especially from you?” you say with sincerity, holding eye contact with him.

“Hmm? Really, me?”

“Yeah. It feels like I’m doing something right, like I’m not wasting my time on a fruitless hobby.” Confessing one of your biggest fears to someone who’s familiar to you but not, close to you but not — now that’s probably one of the craziest things you’ve done this week, and you do a whole lot of crazy things in a week.

Jaehyun’s expression changes with your words. He doesn’t reply for a while, just seeming to take in the world around him with only his eyes. Looking from the drooping branches of the willow to its dirt-ingrained roots, his face is cast downwards with a faint, melancholic smile.

Now the mood is ruined, you think to yourself, bitter. Why do I always do this?

Before you can change the subject and move on from your awkward burt-out, he clears his throat. 

“You know, I admire you a lot Y/N. You and Taeyong,” he starts, the slim chain around his neck glittering in the afternoon sun when he turns back to you. “Both of you have always been unafraid to pursue the arts, even though I know how your strict parents are about future careers and all that. I wish I had the courage to just… do what I like instead of being a pushover with my dad. Maybe I would be doing music with your brother instead of barely living day by day in pre-med.”

His usual confident eyes are tinged with regret and a little vulnerability as he ruffles his hair in the wind. You tilt your head at him, trying to come up with comforting words when you aren’t so sure if you’re qualified to give him advice in the first place.

“Well… I admire you a lot, Jaehyun. You’ve always been that one person who consistently looks like they have their life in check, someone who’s able to put their all in everything that they do. It’s really a quality to be proud of,” you say to him honestly. “I think you’ll do well wherever you end up. So don’t worry too much, okay?”

The boy stares at you like no one’s ever said that to him, and no one has; even if this might be a passing comment for you, it’s something that he feels relief to finally hear.

“Thanks.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it, but you can hear the gratefulness in his voice nevertheless. You both look away for a few seconds when a brilliant yellow bird flutters past the two of you, settling on the ground in front to peck at a white speck in the soil. “Pretty,” he mumbles under his breath, blinking at the animal.

And with that, Jaehyun shakes his head a bit before resuming back to his relaxed demeanor. He lets out a breath of air and runs his tongue over his teeth. 

“Sorry for getting so deep all of a sudden,” he apologies, sheepishly rubbing his neck as you let out a little laugh.

“No, it’s nice to hear that the Valentine Boy has troubles too,” you tease lightly, recalling the God-like aura he used to carry 24/7 when you were younger and the nick-name that followed him around as a result. Jaehyun visibly cringes at your words, no doubt getting high school flashbacks.

“Not that,” he replies, embarrassed. “Anyway, I feel like I haven’t gotten the chance yet to ask you how you’ve been these past few years.” You glance up at him in surprise. He sounds strangely sincere for someone you weren’t that close with out of your brother’s friends, and the confusion must show on your face because he finds it in himself to clarify. “Oh come on, Y/N. I feel like we’ve known each other since forever but I’ve missed a crucial part of your growing up. You’re like a whole different person now.”

“I’d hope so,” you lament, fiddling with your camcorder. “I’ve gone through too much shit to be the same as sixteen-year old me.” Jaehyun laughs out loud at your answer, knowing exactly how you feel as someone who was once a fresh, high school graduate.

“Yeah? Well it seems like just yesterday when you were complaining about being bored after school from not having enough homework—” he stumbles over his words when you push his body with a light shove, the boy barely able to get breaths in with how much he’s laughing at your past cluelessness of how hard high school would really be.

“None of you guys warned me about the horror of calculus, so that is not my fault Jaehyun,” you pout, shaking your head at him.

“So it’s my fault?” he smiles, questioning your statement.

“Yes.” A lie.

“And I’m the reason why you almost failed second semester math?”

“Yes.” Another lie. Wait. “What— how do you even know about that?” You demand, incredulous. Jaehyun just raises his eyebrows and hides his growing grin behind his hand. “Fucking Lee Taeyong.”

He looks overjoyed at your seething, playfully poking out his bottom lip in a mock-frown before getting up and dusting off his pants. Offering a hand to you, Jaehyun uses his strength to pull you to your feet; you’re hyper-aware of the warmth of his palm as your hands linger for a millisecond before he pulls away. 

I’m so screwed, you think to yourself, blinking at the sky with fervor. Shaking your head, you tuck your hand to your side and try not to think of his skin on yours.

“They’re finally done flirting,” he notes with a hum, making an acute observation as you both spy the three other boys heading back to the car, their reluctant forms obvious when you see one girl hold up her hands in a ‘call me’ sign.

Smirking, you skip ahead of Jaehyun before turning back and waving your wallet at him.

“25000 won that we’ll see one of those girls walk out of Tae’s room tomorrow morning,” you chant as Jaehyun jogs to catch up with you. Chuckling, he pushes your wallet away.

“Nah, that man doesn’t give a fuck about the time of day. 25000 that she’s gonna be at your house in twenty,” he counters, snorting when you gag at the thought.

You can’t help but light up at his content face; this feels like this is the first time you’ve ever had a real, honest to goodness, conversation with him as a young adult.

And you’re in trouble, because you think you like it more than you should.

…

“I did it,” Chaewon confesses over the phone, the sound of a knife against a chopping board from her end revealing her current position.

“What,” you inquire, “you finally passed your license test?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Never.” You flash a wicked grin at the sheet music in your hands, shuffling through the never-ending leaflets. 

When Taeyong had said he’d pay you to organize his papers, you clearly weren’t thinking straight enough to be saying yes to this hell. He’s been out for an hour already and not even a third of the pile is sorted through. You slump forward on the couch and shake out your tired hands, groaning when your knuckle hits the coffee table with a painful thump.

“For your information, I don’t need to drive. Hot girls take public transportation,” she retorts with a humph.

“Can’t argue with you there, passenger princess.”

“Oh please, I can literally feel the sarcasm dripping from your voice.”

You laugh, a “you know me, Chae” accompanying the sound ringing out through your empty house. Gathering Taeyong’s work into your arms and dumping the rest on the table, you slide onto the carpeted ground with a sigh. Your bones are overly sore from sitting for too long and the couches seams have made painful, little white imprints on your thighs. With a click of your tongue, you inwardly curse your brother for offering such good deals to a minimum wage paid, about-to-be uni kid, or else you wouldn't be spending a perfectly good Saturday afternoon on whatever this is.

“So,” you prompt, “what did you do this time.”

“Ha,” Chaewon starts.

“I’m scared.”

“Ran into Jaehyun today.”

“Aaand that’s my cue to hang up now,” you sing, slipping the phone between your shoulder and ear, the warm device tucked neatly in the crevice of your neck before you hear the sound of your doorbell ringing out. 

“Wait—”

“Hold on for a sec, Chae. Someone’s at the door.” 

You will yourself to get up from the carpet before making your way over to the front of the house, preparing yourself for a blast of hot summer air to hit you. The silver knob twists under your hand as you swing the door open slowly, expecting the mailman or a delivery on your front porch. Certainly not—

“—Hey.”

Your eyes flick up in surprise.

“Oh shit,” Chaewon whispers over the phone. “That’s not who I think it is, right?”

It’s been a week since you last saw Jaehyun face to face, and your conflicted inner thoughts have been battling in your conscience for the entirety of it. Well, this isn’t great.

“Hi Jaehyun,” you manage to sound out, mentally chastising yourself for sounding so nervous.

“And that’s my cue to hang up now,” the voice at the other end of your call snickers, the long beep of it ending blaring into your ear. 

Your arm drops to your side, phone in hand, as you stare pointedly at Chaewon’s contact info lighting up the screen, her eyes mocking you through her profile picture. Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow as he looks between your phone and your face, seemingly questioning if you’re currently busy through his eyes alone.

“Umm…” your gaze flits around in flusteration, looking just about anywhere but him. “Taeyong’s not home right now, if that’s why you’re here.”

“Oh? Do you know when he’ll be back?” he asks, relaxed as he leans his body against the doorframe.

“He’s picking up stuff from Johnny’s across town, so like,” you glance up at the clock, “an hour? I could uh… call you when he gets back if you want.”

Jaehyun simply pokes his tongue into his cheek in contemplation before tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just stay.” With a small smile, he adds on, “if you're okay with that, of course.”

You peer past him to see his shiny black Mustang sitting in front of your house, before returning to your original position and shrugging at the foyer. Losing your shyness momentarily as you let out a puff of air, you follow Jaehyun in before deciding to answer.

“My company is a blessing in itself, isn’t it,” you think out loud, displaying a cheeky smile when Jaehyun turns around to playfully scoff at you.

“Now that’s a sure thing, Y/N.” 

The boy seats himself on one of the kitchen barstools and places his chin in his hand, leaning over the counter to stare at you as you busy yourself with the fridge.

In all honesty, you weren’t prepared to see him again. He’s already been occupying your mind a little too much for your liking during this past week, the idea of his return to your life teetering you on the edge of insanity. You didn’t know high school crushes hit that hard two years later, and it certainly doesn’t help that his golden skin and constellation of tawny freckles have made an almost daily appearance in the Lee household — just like the old times.

“I think we still have that special glass-bottled lemonade from the farmer’s market last weekend, unless,” you pause, sifting through the multitude of items in the ice box. “Yup. Nevermind. Taeyong finished all of them.”

Jaehyun snorts, already familiar with his best friend’s midnight tendencies of clearing out the fridge whenever, wherever.

“We also have water? And um… milk. And Vodka.”

“This sounds like Yuta’s fridge, and that thought alone is like, genuinely terrifying,” Jaehyun observes from behind you. You shake your head, recalling the first time you saw the said boy’s freezer stash of condiments and liquor at a house party a few years ago. Only condiments and liquor.

“Oh! And cold noodles,” you hold up the container with a little shake. “I remember you liking my mom’s version of them,” you mumble quietly, willing yourself to turn around when the cold air from the fridge starts to sting your eyes.

Jaehyun observes you curiously, a question at the tip of his tongue. You remember?

He stops himself from blurting it out when you seat yourself across from him and push the container towards his direction.

“You practically live here anyway. Help yourself,” you say a bit louder, embarrassed about the fact that you remember such a miniscule detail about him.

You squint at the countertop — which you honestly wish would swallow you whole — as Jaehyun moves around you to pour himself a glass of water. His muscles strain against his loose t-shirt as he moves around your kitchen with familiarity, and you turn away with wide eyes when you realize you’ve spaced out while staring at his back.

It’s a situation that younger you would have never imagined; you had simply never been left in a room with him alone. Your brother and his other friends were always there, a subtle reminder of the distance between you two and the fact that he was probably still worlds away.

But you’re an adult now, and it’d be a lie if you said that you don’t want Jaehyun to notice you in that way.

Feelings are too complicated to think about sober. You grimace to yourself, pressing two fingers against your temple as you lean your cheek against the cool, hard marble of the countertop.

“Y/N?” you lift your head up at your name, flinching back in surprise when Jaehyun’s face appears at the edge of your vision, his figure buzzing with excitement as he gapes at you. “This is yours, right?”

Your eyes drift to the black canisters in his palm. My film.

“Oh yeah— wait. I forgot to develop those ones,” you make your way over and take the undeveloped film rolls into your hands, the boy observing you with wide eyes.

“That’s sick. Do you develop them yourself?” 

“Hm? Nah, I bring them to the camera store downtown. Left them in the fridge to preserve for a while so they should be good to go now.”

It’s only when you look up from the canisters that you spy his expression, the pure giddiness painted on his features catching you off guard. Jaehyun’s body language tells you that he is unnervingly thrilled about his new discovery.

“You were never into this kind of stuff when Taeyong and I were still here in high school,” he brings up slowly, letting the words sit on his tongue before following you when you head towards the stairs. “If I had known…” he trails off, pursing his lips to the side so that his notorious dimples show.

You peer at him over your nose bridge curiously. If he had known, he would've what?

Jaehyun pokes his tongue into his cheek and furrows his brows, thinking about the times when he was over at your house after school and you would be nowhere to be seen. Is the dark room where you were, or were you out taking pictures at the rink and shooting short films with your friends? Maybe at the park with your old camcorder and skateboard? The fact that he never knew about so many of your hobbies is almost troubling considering how long he’s known you, and it makes him shift in place. He supposes he never really took the time to know his best friend’s little sister, but looking at you as you stare back, you’re so much more than that. 

Had you always shared so much in common?

“Well, imma go upstairs and watch a movie,” you resume your climb before pointing upward. “You can come up until Tae comes home, if you want?”

The boy glances at the door momentarily, contemplating how Taeyong would react if he found him in his sister’s room. Would he kill me? Maybe.

He shrugs. Fuck it, I could totally beat him in a fight, Jaehyun reasons, smiling to himself. He doesn’t know how he reached that conclusion, but he thinks he’s joking. Mostly.

“The real question is, what’re we watching? If it’s some romcom shit I’m leaving,” Jaehyun raises a challenging brow with his smirk as he follows you nonetheless, hand following yours dangerously close on the wooden handrail.

“Not my problem you’ve got no taste.”

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, pushing his body into view as you push open your bedroom door, “I might actually die if I see DiCaprio’s face one more time, and you can’t tell me it’s not you that has all of his movies in the living room cabinet, ‘cause they’re definitely not your brother’s.”

“That seems a bit of a personal issue between you and him, Jaehyun,” you let out a laugh with your words. Turning around to flick on the light switch, you’re met with his face closer than it was before. “What.”

“What?” he repeats, almost mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart. You think this face isn’t DiCaprio level?”

Your face heats up without your consent, flustered at the sudden proximity and the fact that you most definitely think Jaehyun’s better than all of your favorite actors combined. You would never admit that to him for the life of you, though.

You swallow before pushing him lightly, making your way into the center of your bedroom.

“Admit it,” he sings, not giving up as he relentlessly parks himself in front of you with his legs set further apart so that he can look at you at eye level. “I bet even Ji Chang-wook’s got nothing on me.”

“Woah woah woah,” you gasp in offense, throwing a hand up to your chest. “Now that’s crossing the line, buddy. Ji Chang-wook’s got something on everybody.”

“I bet,” Jaehyun drawls out sarcastically, eyes flipping to the ceiling ludicrously slow. He seems to glitch for a few seconds, mouth open but no words coming out. “Especially with the way his face is plastered… on… your ceiling? You fall asleep to that?”

Your eyes widen when you have the sudden realization that Jeong Jaehyun is in your room, in your personal space, looking at your things. And that most certainly includes the poster of Ji Chang-wook next to the plastic stars above your bed, glassy, plastic-y eyes staring down at your ruffley bed sheets and everything. In your defense, it was the result of a lost dare — but he doesn’t know that. Wow, you think to yourself, regretting all of your life decisions, I’m just so good at first impressions.

“Yes,” you give up somewhat dejectedly, offering him a (hopefully) confident smile before pulling a projector from under your bed and setting it up on your bedside table.

Jaehyun just shrugs and seats himself on your bed, muttering a little “cute” that you miss before observing as you give the machine a few good slaps so it’ll turn on. Settling against the wall, he lets his eyes flutter over your decor and multitude of things plastered across every inch of your space. If anything, the way your room’s changed since the last time he was in it gives him an outlook into your life that he wouldn't have known otherwise. 

From the blockbuster movie ads on your door to the unfiltered sunlight reflecting off your mirror, the shoelaces tied around your closet door to the origami threaded around your ceiling fan, he feels like he’s falling. Maybe, just maybe, he even finds a bit of himself in the painted shoe boxes shoved under your desk and your circular record shelf. Even the stars he and Taeyong stuck on years ago are still there too. He recognizes bits and pieces here and there, but thrown together in one place, a cohesive picture forms in front of him. It’s suffocating — in a good way — as if he’s been thrown into the unknown and is hit with a new side of you at full force; everything, everywhere, all at once.

“Ha!” you exclaim, holding out a fist for Jaehyun to bump when your projector flickers on. With a bright grin, you flop onto the bed beside him and wait for the whirring of the projector to start with a hollow click.

The beginning few seconds of the film you’ve chosen roll onto your makeshift movie screen, a white sheet hanging by its threads from your vanity, as the bright images light up your figures with a burning white.

Jaehyun figures out what you’ve done just as a familiar face blurs into view, the moving calligraphy of The Great Gatsby scrawled across your bedroom wall while you poke out your tongue at him, high off of the mere fact that you’ve gotten your way. You hear him let out a defeated sigh from beside you, his knee hitting yours as he settles into your comforter nevertheless.

“Sharp as hell, aren’t you. I should’ve known DiCaprio would show up in my sight sooner or later.”

…

Summer tastes like melted sugar crystals in cherry garcia  — or rather, summer tastes like Mark Lee’s Strawberry-Rouge Extravaganza, the latest, state-of-the-art item on his Record Shop menu. When you ask why the random French is thrown in there, he defends himself adamantly, claiming that his three years of secondary French language classes have practically made him a local.

“It’s like a metaphor for saying, ‘I love you,’” Mark claims with sass, even though you don’t make the connection (“That’s not what a metaphor is…?” you mumble quizzically under your breath). He ignores the weird look you throw at him and goes back to his mixing on the counter of the cashier station. “And it feels like a warm hug, because what better to express that than sparkly, drunk goodness.”

“Wow,” Chaewon deadpans, not even looking up from her nails that she’s painting right next to him. The mix of nail polish and liquor makes you scrunch your nose as you organize the main display, a rotating shelf that headlines Blondie. “You should be a poet. You have such a way with words.”

“I don’t need your negativity in my life, girly.” You almost choke on air when you hear a sharp snap of Chae’s gum in retaliation, her icy glare making Mark wilt under her gaze. 

Their intense, non-verbal argument is saved by the dinging of a customer opening the door to the shop. You whip around to greet them only for your words to die right in your throat. Two silhouettes step in, their tall stature and familiar features blocking the sun from shining through the entranceway.

“…Jaehyun, Jungwoo! How are you guys?” Mark offers when he sees you fall silent.

The two greet happily right back, sliding past you to pat him on the back and exchange handshakes. Jaehyun lingers by your side for a little, holding his fist out for you to tap like you did just the other day in your room.

“We knew we’d find you guys in here,” Jungwoo laments, looking around the shelves before his eyes land on Mark’s… setup. You have to admit, this one looks a bit more pleasant than his past drink recipes, and you can tell that Jungwoo agrees wholeheartedly. His hand lingers on a bottle of sparkling vanilla wine as Mark slices red fruit ardently with a plastic, cafeteria knife. A paper cup holds the rest of his special ingredients: rock candy on wooden sticks, shattered candy hearts, and star-shaped ice cubes. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it looked delicious, like something you would order at a beach-side bar. 

Jungwoo seems to find the situation amusing, a trio of barely-adults passing slow, withering days in their own little makeshift paradise. Leaning against the countertop like he’s on the cover of Parisian Vogue, he nicks his baseball cap up a bit higher to look into the three of yours’ eyes better.

“Johnny’s throwing a party.”

That’s all anyone needs to say before Chaewon’s attention is snagged, her eyes gaining an undeniable gleam.

“We’re going,” she speaks for everyone in the room, especially looking you square in the eyes as if saying, you’re not escaping this time, young lady.

“Mhm,” Jaehyun confirms, a hand rubbing at his pulse as he swings an arm over Jungwoo’s shoulders. “A fancy mixer, kinda, the day after tomorrow. We’ll have all the booze, so the only thing you need to bring is yourself.”

“And,” the latter chimes in, “it’s at Johnny’s countryside estate, so y’all can do whatever illegal shit you kids get yourself into without worrying about anything.”

Chaewon lets out a small scoff at his words, mumbling a “we still do here it anyway” under her breath and throwing a knowing look at the alcohol in front of Mark that’s very blatantly in every passerby’s sight.

As Jungwoo relays more information about the plans to them at the front of the shop, Jaehyun turns to follow your path as you diligently place records back in their places in the depths of the store. 

“Do you wear silver or gold?” 

You jump at his appearance out of nowhere, glancing at him with a certain hesitation at his question. Your confusion as to how this topic appeared so suddenly is painted blatantly across your face as you close the last turntable with a click. 

“Why?” You pause. “But both. Depends on my mood.”

“Because this is yours now.”

He reaches into his jeans’ front pocket, pulling out something in his fist before reaching for your hand and dropping a small, plastic ring in the middle of it. 

It’s neon orange and ugly as hell, like something you would find stuck to gum on the underbelly of a school desk. But hey, who are you to complain when Jaehyun looks so pleased at himself as he looks between your face and the ring, trying to gauge your reaction to his surprise gift. And, you’re definitely not complaining when it’s a gift from Jaehyun himself.

“Thank you…? Also,” you squint, picking up the ring to slide onto your pointer finger, “this isn’t silver or gold.” He shrugs half heartedly.

“Sucks to suck.”

You kick the tip of his Converse as he laughs with his whole body, the boy’s deep voice filling the small space. 

“It’s from the coin toy machine outside,” he explains. With a broad grin, he pulls his other hand from out of his pocket and waves it in your face. The whole rainbow has found its home on his fingers, all silly swirls and squiggles of nylon with glued on googly-eyes half falling off.

It’s the pure childish elation you share which makes you unknowingly sink deeper and deeper into the ocean that is Jeong Jaehyun, and you would have felt the metaphorical gasps of air your lungs so desperately need if not for the momentary distractions he provides. 

You suppose all of this is your own doing anyway. 

…

It feels as though Autumn has made a reverse pit-stop in the middle of summer. 

If not obvious by the way the seasonal trees are drooping with a sudden dewy chill, it’s the sudden absence of people in general that serves as a telltale sign. There’s almost no cars on the road, fewer students out and about, and less frequent public transportation. 

The last one in particular really speaks to Jaehyun.

Scrunching his nose at the crisp air, he exits the hole-in-the-wall café he usually frequents when he’s bored, the biting coldness of a mid-August day unfamiliar to him. The boy spent almost the entire day inside; switching between staring at the weather app on his computer and deleting emails from his overflowing inbox for two hours wasn’t the way he thought he’d spend the afternoon, but alas, waiting that long at the crumbling bus stop wasn’t ideal either. He much prefers being warm, caffeinated, and pretending to read a scientific journal than freezing his ass off on a metal bench. 

Anyone would think the same, Jaehyun shrugs to himself… at least until he starts nearing said bench.

Jaehyun stops mid-step when he spots something strange, side-eyeing the undeniably familiar blob crouching at the bus stop approaching on the right.

Why? Well, it's swathed in an oversized hoodie, has a keychain-ful backpack hanging low on its shoulders, and is suspiciously Y/N-shaped.

And if that doesn’t tell him anything, well, the way your eyes go comically wide when you turn to the right and coincidentally meet gazes with Jeong Jaehyun of all people definitely does. It’s the way he’s standing there like a runway model with his hood over his head, dimples on full show as he raises his eyebrows at you and his expensive-looking leather bag hanging off of one shoulder that almost causes you to fall over. Luckily, you pull yourself together before something embarrassing happens, like losing your balance and crashing into the road (not that it’s happened before, of course…). You’re well aware that you tend to get distracted easily, and you’re definitely in trouble because that man is one hell of a distraction.

Getting up quickly and dusting the invisible dust off your legs, you offer him an embarrassed wave as he approaches you.

“How long have you been sitting there? It’s fucking cold outside,” Jaehyun calls out, concerned, glancing down at your skirt and the way you hide your hands in your hoodie sleeves. Sidling up next to you, he bounces on the balls of his feet a little before stuffing his own hands in his pockets.

“It’s okay,” you smile down at the way your shoes match next to his on the sidewalk, “I’m used to the bipolar weather. Plus, it’s not that cold when you’ve got these!” Tucking your lip between your teeth, you rustle around in your sweater-paws before popping out your hands proudly in front of you. Nestled in your palms are old hand warmers, their heat fading but worth their purpose nonetheless.

“Only you would have hand warmers in stock during the middle of summer, Y/N,” he shakes his head in disbelief, but the smile threatening to take over his face makes his eyes crinkle up in amusement.

“Mhm,” you say, distracted as you see the bus pull up to the sidewalk from down the road, “I’ve got a whole box in my backpack. Who knows, maybe an ice storm will hit one day and I’ll be the only one with hands while everyone else’s freeze off.” 

He pauses in place, speechless at your comment. You simply shrug at him, as if saying that’s the way life goes, before nodding to the bus driver and climbing up the vehicle’s steps. “Don’t worry, I’d share mine with you.”

Jaehyun lets out a breath in disbelief. 

Your attitude is truly refreshing, and he can’t even begin to describe what a breath of clean air it is to talk to you everyday; he’s used to girls coming up to him with hidden intent, their eyes tinged with lust as they disguise their interest with false pretenses and flowery words. Flattery is what it began with, but after years of receiving nothing from their end while he found himself aimlessly hoping for someone genuine and it was disappointing that he couldn’t find even one. He’d wish they would just treat him normally and act like themselves, a person not afraid to be genuine with him and let their inner child show. 

It’s as he observes the way you hum as you climb up and give a playful salute to the driver that he realizes you’re the perfect balance of both, the maturity in you shining admirably at the times when it is needed while never acting like something you’re not.

Jaehyun blinks at your figure before tugging on your arm to move around you, swiping his bus pass twice before you can even register what’s happened. He lets a smug grin take over his face before pulling you to the back of the bus and plopping down beside you.

“Thank you for paying for me,” you tilt your head at him, tucking your card back into your pocket. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to, though.”

You give him a grateful smile before remembering something that you had meant to show him, pulling out the walkman you found in your grandmother’s cellar yesterday from your backpack, a dusty old thing that still works perfectly fine. Looping its built-in headphones around your neck, you tilt the player towards him before offering him the small device. Turning it around in his hands, he gapes in undeniable awe as he taps the plastic cover with intrigue. 

You knew he’d like it.

“I haven’t seen one of these in so long. Whose grave did you raid to get this, the hell?”

“Found it yesterday in my grandparent's cellar, and before Taeyong got his hands on it. I thought that you’d find it interesting so I was planning on showing you later this week, but hey, look who I happened to run into today.”

He simply shakes his head before bringing the machine up to his eyes and popping open its cover, a finger coming up to trace the dust out of the inside of it.

“Do you have a cassette to put in it or…?” he begins, looking up at you. You shake your head. “We can go to the vintage shop downtown later to get you some, if you want.”

“Really? You’ll go with me?”

“Yeah, Y/N. You’ve always got the coolest things to play around with, and we can go shove this in Yong’s face too. He’s gonna be so jealous.”

“You just wanna annoy my brother,” you snort, nudging his arm.

“You’ve got me there.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender before poking his tongue inside his cheek, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Or… I could make you a personalized mixtape?” Your jaw drops comically, no words coming out of your mouth as you just stare at him.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“So, so serious.”

“If you did, I would actually lose my mind,” you finally close your mouth in amazement. “You’d probably be my favorite person ever.”

“Well, then that would be well worth it. I’ll work on it when I’m back in the studio at uni,” Jaehyun smiles genuinely, handing you your walkman back before swinging his leather bag back onto his shoulder as the bus pulls to a halt. With a parting pat on your shoulder, he mouths a goodbye before descending the aisle.

“This is my stop. See you at the party, Y/N.”

… 

When you had received the call on a quiet Saturday afternoon from Mark that he and Chaewon would be leaving earlier to help set up for Johnny’s weekend party — the one that Jungwoo and Jaehyun had only told you about just a few days prior — the possibility of not having a ride to bring you hadn’t even struck yet. You were too busy thanking your friends that they had granted you two more hours for an afternoon nap, and an extra 60 minutes to get ready; a truly ideal day in your opinion. 

It’s only when you’ve given yourself a final look in the mirror, admiring the new dress that you’ve donned at the last minute, do you hear the undeniable honk of a car outside. Brushing aside the curtains and trying to get your eyes to focus in the dark, you make a noise of panic when you spy Jaehyun’s car outside your house. 

What’s he doing here?

You'd spent far more time with Jaehyun in the past few days than you have in your entire lifetime, running small errands with him when Taeyong's not there and browsing through retro stores in nearby towns for old cassettes. With every hour more spent together, it felt like you were getting closer to knowing his feelings, and that in itself excited you to no end. He'd end every drive together with a knowing look and some sort of physical touch, and each goodbye left you in anticipation for the next time you'd see him.

Sprinting down the stairs and grabbing your shoes as fast as you can, you rush out into the street where the Mustang’s tinted windows prevent any passerby from making out any faces from the outside. 

As you approach the driver’s side, the window rolls down to reveal the owner of the car. 

“Hey,” Jaehyun grins at you, his pupils dilated and the faint smell of smoke lingering on his breath. 

It feels like forever since you’ve seen him, even if it’s only been a few hours since you last saw each other. You can feel your head fog up when you fully take in his appearance; with his hair slicked back and his button-up undone to reveal sharp collarbones and a dangling, silver cross, he looks godly as the moonlight basks him in a paper-white glow. 

“Chaewon and Mark had to stay later to help set up more and Taeyong’s been pregaming since six, so he sent me to pick you up. You can get in the back.”

You hum in understanding before climbing into the backseat, tucking your hands under your thighs before looking up at the front of the car. 

Your heart drops. 

“Hi,” the girl in the shotgun seat lilts, her bleached hair falling into wavy ringlets against Jaehyun’s leather seats. “Y/N, right? I remember you! You’re Yongie’s baby sis.”

You itch to fill the silence that follows, even though you assume she would have no trouble clearing it with her well-known, extroverted dynamic. There’s an unnamed tension in the car between the two people in the front seat, and it’s so intense that you could cut it with a knife.

You take shallow breaths, not sure what to make of your position. I’m sitting in a car with my crush and his former situationship— holy. How did we get to this point? She’s literally—

“—Lim Sae-mi,” you attempt to give her a genuine smile, flashing your teeth in what you pray isn’t an awkward expression. 

Saemi simply twinkles in the rear view mirror, her delicately painted lips stretching up before she twists around to observe you. 

“You do remember me! Look at how pretty you are too,” she exclaims, reaching back to pat down a strand of your hair, her voice laced with sticky sweetness. “You could be a model, just like Yongie. And your hair is so healthy, I’m jealous. Isn’t her hair so so nice, Jae?”

Jaehyun snaps to attention at the mention of his name, seeming to be in some sort of haze with the way he looks like he’s holding his breath for as long as humanly possible. 

“Yeah.” You find yourself wilting in the slightest at his monotone voice. Looking out the window as he starts driving towards the outskirts of town, you try not to let yourself be too disappointed at the way he loses such distinctive qualities when around the girl sitting next to him. 

Jaehyun freezes up when Saemi turns to him all doe-eyed, flashbacks flitting through his mind of the days when he’d anticipate the moments he’d see her again when they were younger. Strangely enough, the effect that she used to have on him — palpitating heart, nervous ticks, rosy cheeks, uncanny attraction — seems to have dissipated. Now, highschool-Jaehyun seems so far away, and their memories even further.

What’s changed?

“Um,” you start as you watch suburban lights zoom by less and less frequently, your brain working just as fast to eliminate some of the weird, awkward tension happening in the car. You don’t really know enough to make conclusions, but something must have happened in the past for them to react to each other like this. “How’s SNU? Do you guys run into each other often on campus?”

Jaehyun chuckles lowly, a tinge of uncertainty lining his tone as he waits for Saemi to answer your question. 

“Right, you’re going to uni next year right? Hmm… we don’t really see each other on campus at all, now that I think about it,” she simpers, frowning at the road in front of her before brightening up in less than a second. “But that's because Jae’s so busy, preparing to be a future doctor and all. He was always the smartest one out of all of us.”

You watch as he falls silent, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as his jaw clenches ever so slightly.

“Hey, we should catch up sometime Jae,” she adds on with a tone like she doesn’t really mean it before turning her gaze to him, tacking on a noise of agreement with herself as if she's already decided that they will. 

She knows they won’t.

You watch their eyes meet briefly before Jaehyun breaks it to turn the steering wheel left onto a never-ending stretch of a lone, empty road.

Saemi’s a hard person to figure out. You know that she’s charming when she wants to be and firm when she needs to be, but you also know from Taeyong that she has a personality she can flip on and off like a switch; it’s almost as if mind games with the people around her are amusing, and it’s up to the other person to figure out what her true intentions are. It’s understandable why so many people find her alluring. 

Glancing up at the back of her head once more, you observe as she leans back with a faint frown before swallowing something in her hand that looks like a bottled shot. She looks uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat every few minutes, and you’re not sure if she’s more put off by the alcohol or by Jaehyun. Your guess would be the latter, even if her voice makes it seem like she’s the most confident person in the world.

You don’t even attempt to start another conversation, instead opting to roll down the window so that you can watch empty land flash by, an occasional plant breaking the smooth ground. The car picks up speed on its own with no other vehicle in sight, the only light coming from the rising crescent moon and a solo gas station situated further down the road.

The three of you perk up as you approach the oil refill and the only other car at the station, a big pick-up with dressed-up figures leaning out of its windows and sitting around the back cargo bed. You assume they’re heading to the same place you are with the way they all shout at each other as they pass a dark bottle back and forth. A boy gets out of the driver’s seat to walk over to Jaehyun’s car and lean through Saemi’s side of the window, shades pushed up into his hair and beads and cuban links dangling out of his shirt. You don’t recognize him, but you’re not surprised when Johnny knows just about every young person in the world.

“Jaehyun, man! And Saemi, damn, I haven’t seen you guys in a while. Headed to Johnny’s?” he exclaims with a loud voice and wide smile, reaching in to pat a long-lost friend on the shoulder. Just like that, the extroverted Jaehyun and Saemi are back, conversing with him as if their awkward energy and off demeanors didn’t just dictate the ride over. 

The guy notices you in the back when your eyes meet accidentally, both of you taken aback.

“And who might this be?” He smirks at you, gaze never leaving yours as he directs the question to the other two in the car. You smile back just to be friendly, but with the way he’s staring at you, you’re not sure if that’s the right way to go about things.

“Lee Taeyong’s sister,” Jaehyun speaks up, glimpsing back at you with an unreadable look. A look of recognition flashes over the stranger’s face as his mouth opens in surprise.

“So this is the sister. Shit, is that why I’ve never seen her around?”

“Yeah.” There’s a bitter undertone to his voice, expression faltering before he raises his eyebrows with a smile. “And that’s why she’s off limits, man. I know that look all too well.”

You look at your brother’s friend in question, leaning forward, but Jaehyun doesn’t even glance at you. Both of you know that Taeyong isn’t really the overly protective type, so why would he say that? Maybe he knows that this guy is bad news, so he’s warning me. You nod to yourself, satisfied with your quick thinking. That sounds about right.

You’re about to offer a comment yourself, but you’re stopped by a—

“Lim Saemi! No fucking way, is that really you?” another shrill voice calls from across the expanse of the gas station, a former classmate stalking across the black cement in teetering heels as she waves dramatically at the girl in front of you. “It is you! I can’t believe we ran into you like this, you gotta join the party truck now!”

Saemi seems to recognize her, waving dramatically out the window to her friend. In a matter of seconds, the girl has pulled her out of Jaehyun’s car as she laughs at her friend’s antics of tugging on her wrist to string her along, drunk. Saemi throws you and Jaehyun a look that seems to say everything and nothing at the same time; if you were to interpret it in your own language, it would spell out: So sorry I’m ditching you guys! I love both of you to pieces but I’d honestly rather drink bleach than get back in that car. Hope you understand. Muah.

And with that, you watch Saemi switch cars in a matter of moments. The boy follows them back to their chaotic ride to Johnny’s after waving goodbye at Jaehyun, who’s watching them without any emotion bleeding through his stoic face. You can’t even begin to guess what's going through his mind as his eyes flick back to his dashboard, spaced out.

You pause.

“...and then there were two.”

Biting your bottom lip when you realize you mumbled that out loud, and you’ve genuinely never wanted to be six feet under more because the man hasn’t even said a word since she left you two.

Jaehyun freezes at your voice, almost as if he forgot you were in the car. Letting out an airy laugh after a moment, your shoulders relax when you sense that his weird, Saemi-caused demeanor has faded with her sudden absence.

“Wanna move to the front? It’s lonely up here.” You perk up at his belated response, excitedly getting out of the back to slide into the shotgun seat at his invitation. The man next to you seems to visibly relax, stomach releasing and shoulders drooping with less tension as he starts the car and turns back onto the stretch of empty road. 

The silence doesn’t bother you this time when Saemi’s absent; it’s pleasant and full, as if both of you needed this momentary break from nonstop life to collect yourself. Staring at the dust picking up along the wheels while the needle on the speedometer rises up and up, you find the scene before you therapeutic in unexplainable ways.

Jaehyun feels the same, his eyes spacey as one hand rests languidly on the steering wheel with ingrained muscle memory. The vehicle coasts past blank acres and rolling hills, the burning moon engaging in hide-and-seek as it appears and disappears behind their peaks. He doesn’t even feel the need to turn up the stereo as he usually does when your audible, light breaths are sufficient enough. It’s comforting in ways he didn’t know he needed.

You recognize how close you are to Johnny’s estate when you see the road before you thin into dirt and pebbles, a grandiose silver gate barely visible in the far distance. Behind the gate is the unmistakable gleam of polished stone, no doubt the road that leads up to the party and an onslaught of cars. If you concentrate hard enough, your mind can even conjure up the deep bass of the music that the host prefers at his mixers, their heavy resonance flowing through the thick soil to the bottom of Jaehyun’s car and all the way up to the soles of your feet.

You’re just about to point your strange observance out when Jaehyun makes a sudden swerve, pulling off to an edge of mangled weeds and tree roots, the car rolling to a shuttering stop just before a barren field of dead plants. Your body lurches forward a bit with the movement, the boy apologizing profusely when he sees you adjust your seatbelt with confusion written all over your expression.

“Fuck, sorry sorry sorry,” he mumbles, moving his hand in front of you as if you could fall out of your seat at any minute. “I just… the stars are stunning right now, we gotta stop for a sec. You don’t mind if we…”

He trails off, distracted, as he pulls the car door open hastily, rushing out to take in the night sky in its full glory. It’s as if he doesn’t move fast enough, the stars will pull a disappearing stunt on him.

It’s endearing to see Jaehyun like this, a smile subconsciously finding its way onto your face when you spot him bouncing on the balls of his feet lightly. His eyes are completely enamored with the sight above him, neck craned up at an odd angle to see everything; from the way his fingers dig into his palms in excitement to the cold flush on his cheeks from the biting evening chill, it’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself when encountering such a beautiful product of mother nature. 

The thought of Johnny’s party evaporates from both of your minds as you find yourself mirroring Jaehyun’s position. 

After a few minutes of stillness, he looks at you with the very stars from the sky in his eyes.

“Can we stay here for a bit?”

He beams at your “of course” before hoisting himself onto the cool hood of his Mustang and offering a hand out for you to grab. Pulling you up onto the spot beside him with a huff, he pulls your wrist to shift your body closer to his before smiling contently to himself. 

You try not to let your mind spiral at his warm touch, instead focusing your attention on the blanket of constellations that greet you from the inky stretch of night sky. The cold metal of the hood cools your burning skin as your legs stretch out in front of you, skin ghastly as your arms support your weight from behind you.

When he hears your faint intake of breath, Jaehyun allows his eyes to leave the pretty view above him to the pretty view beside him for a few seconds, letting them linger on your side profile as you stare up in awe. They fall from the slope of your nose to the open curve of your lips, circling around your neck and raking over the ornate gems decorating your skin. You’re breathtaking in 1001 ways, and it’s such a pressing realization that he blinks away in shock when your gaze suddenly meets his. 

“Do you do this often?”

“When I need to get away for a bit. All of my best ideas come to me at night, I think. There’s just something about darkness and non-artificial light which is curiously inspiring.”

You nod, leaning back on the windshield and resting your head against its glass. Nighttime lets you think in the abstract, where the shadows don’t take shape and remind you to think in a direct and methodical way. 

“I get that,” you empathize. “After Taeyong left, I used to climb onto my roof after dark and just sit there alone for hours. I wouldn’t know how much time had passed until I got back into my room, and to be honest, that was my favorite time of the day. It took my mind off things, even if it was only for a few hours.”

“You know, Yong and I used to do that when we were younger. You were too little to remember I think, but we’d go up after your parents fell asleep and throw basketballs down the side of your house to see how far they would bounce up… we probably hit your window too a few times. Only a few.”

“That was you?” you jut, incredulous.

“Oh, so she does remember,” Jaehyun laughs under his breath, playfully avoiding eye contact when you scoff at your brother and his' antics. “Anyway, I wanna go up there again someday.”

“Our roof? I’ll bring you.”

Jaehyun turns to face you.

“Promise? I’m counting on it, Lee.”

You don’t hide your bashful smile this time, looking away when the boy flashes his dimples at you. Your insides flood with warmth as you secretly bring the back of your hand up to feel your cheek, scared of its betrayal of your feelings. 

Jaehyun sighs, content, after a few moments, his neck lolling at the joint to stargaze once again. He feels entirely relaxed at this moment; there’s nothing that Mother Nature can’t fix. 

“History revolved around looking at the stars and just talking, you know? I wish I could stay here forever and never grow up.” 

You tilt your head curiously.

“Why, you don’t like being an adult?”

“Not that,” he shakes his head. “It’s more of, I pretend to be collected and mature and all-knowing, but the feeling of having no control over life magnifies as I get older. My head and heart haven’t grown up fast enough to catch up.”

“Jaehyun.”

“Hm?”

“You don’t ever have to pretend. It’s… it’s okay to not know what you’re doing or what the future looks like, and it’s okay to let yourself go at times too. Being an adult doesn’t mean always knowing the right things to do or figuring out every little detail right now,” your words stumble a bit as they spill out, but he seems to catch onto every word perfectly. “I’m scared too, so it’s kinda ironic that I’m giving you this advice when I can’t follow it myself.”

“We can trade words of wisdom,” Jaehyun offers more lightheartedly. “It’s so much easier to give advice to other people than to yourself.” You can’t think of a better way to phrase it than that. 

“And I think simply moving forward with what you can muster is the best we can do,” you add on. Jaehyun just stares at you as you talk, chin in his palm as he takes in your advice with sincerity. “Things will just come and go naturally as we go on.”

“You’re right. Time tells, Y/N. And frankly, you’re so much more mature than me.”

“Me?” You frown, surprised at the fact that he thinks you are. “That’s so strange to hear, because I feel like I’ll never be independent in the way that you and Tae are. Even though we’re not that far apart in age, I’ve always thought you guys were from a different galaxy, like fear wasn’t a word in your dictionary and maturity has always just come naturally.”

“It’s all in the way we carry ourselves, but maturity itself doesn’t come from this,” Jaehyun waves his hand around to outline your body in an imaginary circle, “but from this.” You watch as he taps a purposeful finger against your temple. “And you have more of it than anyone my age. You have a mind that people would die for, and I think that’s something to be very proud of.”

The wind whistles soundly as the two of you take in the world with new perspectives, sitting up a little straighter and legs just barely touching as he moves closer without even noticing. You don’t say anything for a while, and you don’t need to. He recognizes how you need a few minutes to let his words soak in, and that’s what makes you so you. Jaehyun knows you won’t just take his words on a whim and forget them ten minutes later; you’re the kind of person that internalizes everything he says with genuine feeling and gratefulness, and that quality is what makes you, in his opinion, celestial. 

“You always know just what to say,” you finally whisper, and he almost doesn’t catch it.

You receive no reply except for the most adoring look in his eyes as he smiles fondly at you. The breeze blows wisps of your hair around your face, and Jaehyun can’t help it when he reaches out to tuck a stray strand behind your ear. His fingers linger — longingly, if you dare say — before he makes himself pull away.

You’re scared to let yourself believe that you might have a chance this time; everything floods back and hits your heart at full power, and you think that your newfound connection you’ve found with the boy over this summer has trumped all of your past memories. Your feelings are fragile, and the way he looks at you is terrifying. He makes your heart race violently; your feelings from when you were fifteen don’t even compare.

“It’s too chilly for a summer month,” he speaks up suddenly, rubbing his arms and trying to lighten the mood. You shake your mind out of its storm of complicated emotions before offering a small smile back.

“Always speaking the truth, aren’t you?” You tease, playing with the hem of your short dress. Jaehyun makes a noise of agreement before a boyish grin stretches across his face. 

“Yeah, which is why Leonardo DiCaprio is not—”

“—UH,” You stop him mid sentence, shushing him. “Let’s not finish that sentence.”

“—peak acting which is why—”

“La la la lala,” you sing, covering your ears with your hands childishly and squinting so that you don’t have to see Jaehyun raising an eyebrow at you, amused. “I can’t hear youu.”

“I take back the part about you being more mature than me.” Only one boy is capable of making your moods flip like this, and he’s sitting right next to you as your laughs ring out in tandem through the night. 

Eventually, after a few more back-and-forths under the dark sky, Jaehyun takes it upon himself to teach you some astronomical terms. You doubt you’ll remember them, but he promises he’ll make it easy for you to hold in your mental library.

“You need to be prepared,” he stresses, “if you’re gonna come with me next time.”

“Next time… stargazing?”

“Yup,” he answers matter-of-factly. “Let’s see… there’s a triangle of importance in my opinion. The true triune, holy grail of astronomy.”

You watch him sink into his element, musing upon the milky way above.

“Stars,” he air-traces the Orion constellation slowly. “Moons,” he continues, moving his arm in front of you to point at the claw of the silver crescent moon. Jaehyun lets his hand fall, the tip of his finger grazing your skin in the slightest as it hovers in front of your heart. “And celestial bodies.” 

…

You mentally prepare yourself to get an earful from Chaewon as the drive up to Johnny’s resumes…

…two hours late.

In your defense, it wasn’t completely your fault. Jaehyun says you can blame it on him when she throws her fit at you being late — and boy, do you know she will — but you also know that when you recount what happened to cause your tardiness, she’ll excuse it. Partially. Maybe even throw in a sushi dinner and smoke sesh, then all of your sins would be forgiven in her book.

You try to distract yourself from Jaehyun’s sweet actions just a few minutes earlier by thinking about where you might find Chaewon and Mark when you get there; maybe the drink-stocked kitchen, where Mark will surely be… or outside, where people like Chaewon usually go with their ziploc bags and scratched-up lighters.

Where would Jaehyun go?

You groan inwardly when you catch your brain drifting to the idea of the man next to you once again, said man driving with a dopey expression on his face as Johnny’s estate comes into full view. You can’t tell if it’s because of a well-needed down-time with the stars (and time with you, if you dare to think optimistically) or because it looks like there’s strobe lights flashing out of every window of the ground floor—

“—holy shit, they really went all out,” Jaehyun gapes, hands slacking on the steering wheel as you both take in the scene before you. “Johnny’s fucking insane. Maybe even like, should-be-checked-into-a-facility insane.”

Your eyes widen as the building unfurls itself before you, a mansion so grand that it’s comparable to Gatsby’s in every way. It’s got a certain vintage charm to it, something you assume Johnny’s parents built in homage to their roots with veiny, marbled stairs and towering Roman columns. The chaos that’s happening in and around the home itself, however, is a different story. You can see the drunk bodies already as they move around to invisible music, and waves of people climb spiral staircases up to the upper levels as they fumble drinks around. Silhouettes of the party-goers are littered across the vast, arched windows, stone trims decorating their sills with impeccable detail; the estate is truly a needle that shines brilliantly in a haystack of country homes, the nearest house being a whole 20 minute drive away. You’d been to his countryside home only once with Taeyong when you were younger, but seeing it in all its glory during the nighttime is a whole different experience.

“Nah,” you grin when he puts the car into park behind a train of assorted automobiles that cover the driveway. “He's that special kind of chaebol-insane. I propose not eating the rich, because what would the world be without Johnny Suh.”

Jaehyun simply chuckles lightly before getting out of the car and walking around to your side, opening the door before helping you out. You’d be lying if you said that the butterflies in your stomach didn’t just seize at his actions.

But nothing good lasts forever.

Just as soon as the butterflies come, they die off when you notice the immediate, uncanny switch in Jaehyun’s disposition.

You’re not sure if it’s the deafening bass-boosted music flooding into the air or the multitude of bodies in front of the house alone as the two of you approach the open door, but he seems to be pushed into a different element the closer you get. You recognize it as the one that you’d only heard of in high school, the one who frequented house parties on school nights with your brother, the one who shone in a room full of people, the infamous heartbreaker Jaehyun.

You can see the shift in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate slowly as they gain that undeniable gleam. You can feel his muscles lose a tension you didn’t even know was there, especially when he swings his arm around your shoulders casually, letting his hand rest against your collarbone. You can hear the calls of his wicked name already from both females and males alike, their shouts pulling him away from you as multiple people are drawn to him right away.

You recognize a few of them, hometown names that make their presence known as they clap Jaehyun on the back and reach out for intoxicated hugs. It’s also now that you realize the sheer amount that the boy you practically grew up with — the very one who spent his school day afternoons playing in your living room — changes when with other people. His popularity was never a mystery to you, but seeing it in person like this… he acts like he’s finally at home. A true socialite who flourishes when surrounded by people.

And you would never hold that against anyone, except until—

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

Ah.

His voice rings out flippant and unfamiliar, arm slipping from your shoulders like deadweight, and his fingers don’t linger on your skin longingly this time. Without looking back, he’s swept away by a myriad of high school friends as they drag him off to only God knows where. They hand him drinks and jostle around with each other between heated bodies, his silver rings glinting under the lights as he throws his head back for a bitter shot.

You watch as their forms retreat into the depths of the party until the shadows swallow him up and your eyes can’t follow him anymore. 

Left to hover awkwardly by yourself at the door of Johnny’s house with no drink in hand and a bewildered twist in your expression, suddenly, all the moments that have led up to now feel like a fever dream. Everything just happened so fast. One minute he’s next to you, and you’re sure you’ve fallen again. Hard. And the next moment he’s gone with the wind, like a figment of a dream flickering in and out of consciousness. Sure, you hadn’t expected to spend the whole night with him, but you thought that after your many little talks he would want to stay with you a little longer than three seconds.

At least he promised to find you later, but you’re still left feeling unsure about where you stand with him in contrast to the bubbling feeling of affection you had felt earlier in the night. The way he acts is giving you emotional whiplash.

I have to find Chaewon and Mark, you think to yourself suddenly, trying to shake your head of Jaehyun-related thoughts. The way he’s plagued your thoughts far too many times these past few months terrifies you, and it feels like you’ve lost your mind for real this time. You’re charged with a new determination to not think about the boy until he comes back to you himself. It’s not worth ruining your night over maybe’s.

Weaving through sweaty figures and waving instinctually at the people who happen to recognize you, you find yourself in a sort of trance as you strain to catch a glimpse of one of your friends. The bass-boosted music fills your ears with a heavy buzz as you make your way through what feels like hundreds of people.

A cold hand abruptly reaches out to grasp your wrist when you approach the closed off kitchen, causing you to cautiously glance back at its owner with your other arm ready to push them off.

“Babe, what are you doing here all alone?”

You jump slightly before giving him a childish slap on his arm as a grinning Mark reaches out to embrace you, and the strong smell of twisted tea pungent on his breath. His hand comes up to tuck your head into his neck familiarly, an old habit from when you were young that tends to come out in his drunk endeavors.

“You scared me,” you mumble into his shirt, voice muffled by the fabric. “I was trying to find you, but there’s literally thirty million people in this damn house.”

Feigning hurt, Mark pulls away to put a hand to his heart. “You can’t recognize me from a house away?” His sarcasm makes you squint at him, your hand reaching out to tug him along with you.

“No, Mark. I actually can’t recognize you from a house away,” you bite back, mumbling an extra, “surprisingly too, because I could probably hear your loud-ass laugh from another country if I really wanted to.”

“Literally shut up.”

“Never. Come find Chaewon with me?”

“I-” Mark sighs, giving in to your pleading eyes. What can he say, he has a self-destructive soft spot for his best friend. “Fine. But only if you get her to play one of the drinking games with me, ‘cause you never want to,” he tsks. You offer him an innocent smile before turning towards the back balcony. Gripping Mark’s arm tightly as the two of you make your way through clusters of people, you glance back every so often to make sure he’s still with you. You don’t want to be left alone again.

Again. Like Jaehyun just did when he said he wanted to spend time with me…

He seems to sense your uneasiness when you pause for a moment to look down, the fluorescent lights that lead to the back glass doors making your eyes sting as your fingers tighten their grip on his wrist. 

“Hey hey hey,” the boy pauses to move in front of you with worry creasing his brows. “You good?”

You blink away from him, mumbling an unsure “yeah,” before clearing your throat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just got dizzy for a sec.”

Mark puts his hands on your shoulders carefully, eyes scanning the way your face looks more apprehensive than usual and your head isn’t held just as high as the Y/N he knows would. He’s had almost his entire life to study your moods and the rises and falls of your expressions, and he knows that something heavy is bothering you to the point where you’re letting him see it bleed through your normal, carefree facade. It’s something serious, and he also knows you’re not gonna tell him until you’re ready.

So for now, he simply smooths down any invisible tensions in your arms and straightens your posture for you like he would in your younger school days, gentle and nimble fingers adjusting the straps of your dress like a parent figure would. 

“I like this number on you. You should wear it more often.” 

“Thank you,” you smile gratefully at him, forcing your feet to move forward once again. It's not unusual for Mark to compliment you, but it feels particularly comforting tonight after so much of your confidence in yourself has been built up and torn down in a matter of hours.

You don’t let your gaze take in anyone except a potential Chaewon as the two of you finally make it outside, scared of potentially seeing someone you don’t want to see. Out of the corner of your eye, Mark gestures animatedly to the lit up garden, far fewer people mingling in its flowering, winding paths than inside. 

“Oh! Chaewon’s right there,” he pushes you lightly in her direction, a poised figure leaning, relaxed, on one of the ivy-slinked marble balconies. “I’m not gonna go far, but I’ll get some drinks from the kitchen for us and be right back, okay? I won’t leave you guys for long.” You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry, Y/N? You’ve done nothing wrong, but whoever or whatever’s bothering you should feel ashamed for making you apologize for nothing,” he chastises immediately, indignant towards the fact he has an inkling of who’s made you feel this way. It pains him to see his best friend hurt silently.

You nod before he gives you one last pat and nudges you in the direction of Chaewon. She turns on her heel just as Mark leaves, face lighting up when she spots your form heading in her direction.

“Took you long enough!” She calls out over with a hand reaching out for you, her other occupied by a flute of some mysterious fizzy liquid. “I’ve been waiting so that we can try the colorful shots in Johnny’s fridge together. I know you secretly like those.”

You snap yourself out of your thoughts before managing a grateful smile as she pulls you into a side hug. “Sorry, the uh… drive took longer than anticipated,” you mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Who’d you come with again? I feel so bad that we couldn’t pick you up, but the setup literally took the living energy out of me.”

You bite your lip nervously, eyes flicking to the night sky in reassurance.

“I came with— I came with Jaehyun,” you spit out quietly, already predicting her reaction in your head. 

“Damn, for real? I told your brother to call one of your other friends, but this is so much better. Did you guys get time to talk or what?” Chaewon lifts her drink to her lips as she waits with wide eyes, anticipating an answer that you know you can’t give her. If anyone has always rooted for the possibility of him liking you back, it’s her. 

“I don’t know,” you finally whisper, giving up as you tug your fingers through your hair. “It’s just… he’s a confusing person. Like yeah, we talked, but I can’t figure him out at all. He goes back and forth from being the closest I’ve ever felt to a boy to an almost distant stranger in a matter of seconds.”

Your friend’s face falls at your words, clearly noting how much you’re beginning to get stressed out over him. It kills her to see anything but a smile on your face, and the fact that it’s because of someone who you’ve pined over for so long is detrimental to watch. 

“Y/N…” 

“It’s fine. I’m making a big deal out of nothing, probably.” Your voice cracks slightly in the middle of the sentence, but you mask it with a quiet laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a real chance with him to begin with, so try not to expect much.” Chaewon’s bitter smile reflects her inner confliction as she reaches out to take your hand in hers.

“Stop, don’t think like that,” she mutters. 

“But don’t worry, there’s still,” you whisper, putting your pointer finger and thumb up to approximate the size of the tiny moon in the sky above you, “a little hope. There’s always been.”

You nod to yourself, almost like a subtle reassurance. You’ve always had faith and confidence in your own feelings, and a little hope has never killed you. If anything, it’s brought you closer to Jaehyun than you’ve ever been, and getting to know him in ways that you were never able to has been a silver lining in itself. Just maybe… deep down, not in the way you know you wish you had.

“I love how you’re always been so sure of what you want,” Chaewon confesses. It’s both a blessing and a curse. “But tonight’s about having fun, okay? No use wasting time on a boy that can’t get his own shit straight.”

With a giggle, she pulls you towards the house once again. “I want to see you get wasted. His name is not allowed as far as I’m concerned.”

“Jaehyun’s name…?” 

“Who?”

You shake your head with a smile as she feigns confusion with an innocent expression. I don’t deserve my friends, you think to yourself, heart warming at how much they try to make you feel better.

“Come on, Y/N. Look around at all the people,” she laughs out in the tone of a true socialite as she tugs you towards where most of the partygoers are congregated, littered across every corner with their short dresses and sweaty skin. Noticing that your mouth is still tinged with a hint of apprehensiveness, she stops in her tracks and turns to you. “You’re telling me that you’re gonna let him do this to you? This night is for us, not waiting for a stupid boy that’s had the chance of a decade to love on you, pretty girl.”

She fiddles with your dress and smoothing down its invisible wrinkles as you nod along with her, mind willing itself to focus on yourself and your friends instead of—

Right. He doesn’t exist right now.

“And you look so good right now that anyone would be stupid not to feel lucky for having your attention,” she affirms, shiny hair tumbling under fluorescent lights as she beams at you. You can’t help but wrap your arms around her, the comfort of her mere presence and consoling words making your heart burn. 

“Love you, Chae. I think we should just date instead,” you mumble into her shoulder, her signature, bright laughter ringing out at your words. 

Her eyes brighten even more when she spots Mark appearing back behind you with entire bottles of liquor in his hands.

“Where the hell did you get those, my god,” she ooh and aah’s at him as your face lights up at the appearance of the boy.

“Johnny’s hidden stash in one of the guest bedrooms. He thinks he’s slick,” he snorts, putting a finger up in a shushing motion when Chaewon gasps dramatically. When you giggle at your best friend’s antics, he turns to look at you with a hint of worry on his face. 

You seem to have cheered up a bit since he left you to get drinks, but he also knows how good at hiding your true feelings you are. From poker faces to fake laughs, you’ve got it all under your belt. He just wishes you would just let go sometimes, but it’s understandable when he thinks about you as a person. It’s simply in your nature to be selfless, and ever since the two of you were young, you’ve never been one to bother anyone with your own worries. No wonder he’s worried as you crinkle your eyes in elation at him, a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

Glancing at Chaewon, she nods at him discreetly, seemingly having a conversation with just their eyes. You’re okay now.

Letting out a short breath of relief, Mark loops his arm with yours before pulling you into the lion’s den of a party haven. 

“Let’s get fucked up, hmm?”

…

You don’t know how much time has passed as you trudge through the garden with your heels in one hand, Chaewon’s fingers laced with yours in the other. 

You’re sure it’s been at least three hours since you arrived. No, two. Maybe four?

To be honest, time isn’t even a concept in your book as you swing your arm with your friend’s, a drunken-dopey smile on your face as you relish the feeling of the dirt and grass against your bare skin. 

Maybe you would’ve known when Mark had handed you the first shot, eyes flicking absentmindedly to the mounted clock in Johnny’s spacious living room — but you hadn’t cared enough then to figure out the numbers and read the time properly. In fact, you don’t think you were even thinking about anything except getting a bit of alcohol in your system. Forgetting was the first thing on your mind.

And boy, did everything spiral from there.

You recall vague bits here and there, from getting too close with familiar faces to being handed funky glasses with sparkly liquids. It was all a blur of overdue laughter and shots after shots, and you have to admit, completely letting loose for the first time in a while felt numbing in the most beautiful way.

You remember Mark drunkenly laying his head down in your lap at one point, tapping the hard liquor in your solo cup and mumbling a happy, “water fountain?” up at you. You weren’t seeing double just yet, but you certainly weren’t thinking straight enough either to comprehend his words fully. So, with absolutely no hesitation and a tipsy giggle, you poured the rest of the contents in your cup into his open mouth as carefully as you could (read: not careful at all). He had sat up with a cheeky smile, wiping the surprisingly dark, bloodred liquid from his bottom lip before it dribbled down and stained his skin.

Everything after that moment felt muggy, like a heavy blanket was wrapped around your head and knotted twice around your neck. You suppose that the alcohol added up at some point, pushing you past the point of clarity.

And suddenly now, you’re here. In the grass with Chaewon, doing only God knows what in a freezing night chill with your short dress and absence of a cozy summer jacket. You don’t even know how you got outside in the first place.

The cold air is good for you, however, as you can feel the blurriness start to fade away bit by bit. You’re not stumbling around as much anymore, but your grip on your friend’s hand is as tight as ever as you make your way through pretty flower bushes and onto a stone path.

“Oh no, someone dropped their phone,” Chaewon laments with exaggerated sadness — no doubt the alcohol talking — before leaning down to pick up the shiny device. Dusting it off with her fingers, she traces a frowny face into its glass, causing it to suddenly turn on.

“Jesus,” you squint into its blinding screen, mentally cursing the person who had the brightness turned all the way up and causing tiny white dots to appear in your vision. “What time is it?”

“You have eyes, look yourself,” Chaewon turns her head towards you dramatically, words slightly slurred as she throws you an unimpressed look. “But it’s 2:43 am. I can’t believe we’re still conscious.”

You groan, rubbing lightly at your eye before she’s talking again, swaying slightly as she speaks. Letting your gaze wander, you let yourself linger on the few people either passed out on messy lawn chairs or calling their friends for late night rides. Some are standing around like you and Chae, heads hanging down and clearly not in their best condition. There’s people with their arms thrown over the shoulders of their friends too, providing obvious support for their less coherent counterparts.

A couple half hidden behind the edge of the balcony catches your eye, your muggy mind inwardly gushing at how cute they are. You want a relationship like that. Their figures are hidden by the shadows of the house, but you can still see how the boy holds her forearm with care as he leans against the stones with her, head tilted impossibly close to the girl’s to display his full attention on whatever she’s telling him through her hushed whispers. 

“—it’s okay ‘cause we’re sleeping over at Johnny’s tonight anyway. And, he has like a thousand guest bedrooms so we can choose any one of them—”

The couple lean into the wall more, the light repositioning as they shift their bodies closer, obviously very comfortable with each other. The girl moves further into the light, shiny hair catching onto the glow as she turns in place. He chases her movements, following her into the beam of the balcony lights as their faces are lit up under the sudden absence of shade.

You breathe out.

No way.

“—and I’ve always wanted to stay at Johnny’s and experience that rich kid life, you know? I wonder what it’s like to—”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You think that your heartbeat physically stops as you take in the scene before you. Like a thin arrow slicing right through the flesh and tissue of your heart, and it’s violently humbling. Bruising, even.

Stop.

There’s Saemi. And there’s Jeong Jaehyun too in all his glory, looking at her with the stars glittering in his eyes as she tilts her head up towards him.

Your mind goes blank.

“Hey, Y/N, I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Promise.”

That was what, four hours ago?

Ha.

You sober up immediately, like your head has just just been ruthlessly plunged into a bucket of ice cold water. Like God himself is telling you to face the fucking music and come back down to reality. And if you concentrate hard enough, you can even hear your soul shattering, its pieces clattering down and settling at the bottom of your stomach because you actually feel like you might throw up.

I should’ve known, is the phrase that repeats like a mantra in your head, manically getting louder and louder as you blink in pain. Your eyes refuse to leave them for some reason, watching the way his hand comes up to rest on the junction between her neck and shoulder with a delicate touch.

A bitter taste floods your mouth. You feel like you’re playing a one-sided game of push and pull, and it’s worn you out; it’s not disappointment, or even jealousy that fills your body, but fatigue. It’s tiring to let yourself hope, and then get let down time after time and you feel stupid. Disgusted at yourself, even, for attempting to appeal to a boy who had never given you the time of day in the past even though everyone was aware of how blatantly obvious your crush on him was.

You’ve always prided yourself on how true to your own character you are, but in this moment, you feel like a child watching real adults in the real world. Two years' age difference isn’t much in retrospect, but at this moment, Lim Saemi seems like a whole generation above you. Her maturity shines through every part of her — from her gait to the way she dresses to the way she leans into Jaehyun — and you can’t help but let your worst insecurity get to you as they get impossibly closer.

It hurts, because he’s not even mine.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

You don’t answer.

And when the soft plush of his lips come down to place a gentle kiss against her forehead, you decide that you’ve seen enough.

…

Your mouth feels like paper, your head feels like it’s about to split open, and you feel like shit.

Blearily blinking one eye open and then immediately shutting it after getting a glimpse of an unfamiliar ceiling, you groan out loud before stuffing your face into your arm.

Somehow, the little bit of willpower left in you forces your body to get off of the bed you’re on, stumble through the darkness (you think you accidentally trip over a stray body on the ground too), and feel your way to the hallway. Your brain has completely shut off, but you’re also fucking parched and nothing will get in the way of you and water right now.

Your feet miraculously lead you to the empty expanse of Johnny’s kitchen, little sunlight reaching its pristine tiles at such an early hour. Glancing at the red clock numbers on the oven, you blanch when it displays a mocking 6:04am. You’re lucky that your hangovers don’t hit too hard. Pouring yourself a glass of water, you can finally swallow and lean back against the counter in relief as you take a deep breath.

And that’s when it hits you. That’s when everything hits you.

You almost choke on your water as your mind pulls last night from the depths of its sleepiness, from the drinking to the unwanted feelings to the sensation of blacking out. You remember it all.

Taeyong taking a body shot in front of you (scarred). Johnny making out with one of your close school friends in front of you (scarred x2). Mark handing you drink after drink. Chaewon leading you into the garden for fresh air. And… and seeing the boy you like with a girl you thought he had nothing to do with anymore.

Like a floodgate of torturous memories, your mind automatically replays every little interaction without warning as you throw your head back against a cabinet in regret. It’s as if you have no control over what you get reminded of and what you don’t, because of course, the first thing that flashes before you is the feeling you felt when you saw Jeong Jaehyun in the courtyard. 

His arm wrapped around the shoulder of Saemi’s as your best friend desperately vied for your attention, the girl finally following your line of sight to eventually see the scene you were watching in chilling silence. And Chaewon had noticed it all, from the way he smiled down at her to the very moment he looked up in your direction.

“Y/N…” she had whispered, the pity clear in her tone. You’d turned your head away quickly, not wanting her to see the tears gathering on your lash-line, but she couldn’t help but notice the way you reached up to wipe them away. Your body had gone into autodrive, quickly moving to the side to get away from the two as fast as you could. Chaewon reached out for you before turning back to glare at Jaehyun, surprised to see him already staring right at you.

He seemed unfairly distraught and guilty in her eyes, his gaze conflicted as his hands fell from Saemi’s face in a flash and hovered in the air in shock. A few seconds later and he snapped out of it, leaving her standing alone and rushing over in your direction, seemingly trying to reach you before you got lost in the mass of people inside the mansion. 

As he passed Chaewon’s lingering form, her hand flew out to latch onto his shoulder. 

Shaking her head at him — as if saying, you lost your chance ages ago — it was then that she truly felt awful about the inner turmoil her best friend was constantly subjected to when liking a boy like that. 

Wincing, you press a cheek to the cold marble countertop of the kitchen as all of your thoughts flitter through your consciousness at once. You wish the dull throbbing in your head would stop, and even thinking about it makes you shift uncomfortably in place, itching to just get outside and clear your mind with fresh air.

Fuck it, you decide, no one’s awake anyway. I need to get away, even if it's only for a few moments.

Pushing your hair out of your face, you finish your water before heading out. There’s an unusual smell of artificial roses as you move through the hallways and descend the grand staircase; it’s eerie to walk in a silent house, all of the hallways dark and stoic. Johnny’s mansion looks like a mini natural disaster with the way decorations and bottles are strewn across its marble floors, almost like savages making use of a castle. It’s like a presentation of physical evidence of what took place last night.

Finally making it outside into the crisp morning air, you relish in the chirping of the songbirds and empty expanse of a dew-tipped garden. Taking a deep breath, you shiver slightly before heading down a small hill behind the garden. You recall there being a lake behind the property that Taeyong and Johnny used to bring you to when you were younger, one with a small dock that retreated far enough into the water that you could be alone without having the urge to constantly look towards the house again.

You don’t expect anyone to be awake — or even outside — this early, but it comes as a surprise when you almost trip over a figure sitting on the bottom-most stone step. Putting a hand to your heart, your eyes widen as they turn to look up at you.

“Oh… hi. I didn’t expect anyone would be awake this early.”

“Yeah, I just needed some fresh air,” you say, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “So I’m going down to the dock…”

“Ah. I see… um. You- you wouldn’t mind if I joined you, right?”

…

Life is funny sometimes.

As you swing your legs gently above the light waves, you can’t help but think about the irony of the situation you’re in. You bite your lip before turning to the person next to you, their knees pulled up to their chest as they stare out into the water. 

“Saemi…”

The girl turns to you, a hesitant smile on her face as she reaches out for your hand.

Lim Saemi takes your fingers between hers before letting out a deep sigh, the talkative persona she normally holds, gone, as she looks between each of your eyes. The hesitance between the two of you is awkward in a way. You’ve never had a full conversation with her and you’ve always assumed things about her based off of others’ recountings, but she couldn’t be more different now. 

The little imaginary devil on your shoulder shakes her pitchfork at you, as if saying, “you should be hating her, remember?” 

You look down to hide your slight frown.

“I think we have a lot to talk about,” she starts, voice tentative and slow as she purses her lips in contemplation. You still. Nodding your head, you let her move closer to you on the wooden planks of the dock before she makes eye contact with you again.

“You know, sometimes it scares me how alike you and Taeyong look. It’s like staring into a mirror image, and I feel like I see memories in you that I associate with your brother.” 

You cock your head at her words. “...we’re pretty similar people too, I think,” you whisper back, an automatic smile reaching your face as your mind finds its own way to him.

“I think so too,” she grins. “Actually, Taeyong and I have been friends for a long time, and he’s always speaked of you so fondly that I couldn’t help but anticipate meeting you. I would see glimpses of you here and there, and he would constantly mention his baby sister and how much he worried about her. He was the best older brother, and anyone could see it.” She pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Yet he treats his friends the very same way, with the same adoration and care. It doesn’t matter how much Taeyong will grow in the future with his escalating popularity and growing talent in music, he’ll always have the kindest soul in my eyes. I’m genuinely so thankful for him, Y/N.”

To hear someone speak about your brother like that triggers an emotion in you that you didn’t even know you had, gaze curious as you wait for her to continue.

“I don’t really know how to start this conversation to be honest, but- I bet you know how hard high school is.” You nod, grimacing at all of the particular more negative memories you have. “You’re balancing on that fine line between feeling too adult to be in school and feeling too childish to live your own life yet, and I, for one, most definitely didn’t know how to deal with such a sudden change in my social and academic surroundings. I think I changed physically a lot then, too. My face, my body, everything. I started morphing into someone that I couldn’t recognize in the mirror, and I came to the realization that boys liked me first for my appearance, not my personality. And… and you know what I regret the most? I learned how to use my body as a weapon.”

“I learned how to change the way I talk, how to talk to boys so that I could get them to do what I want, and suddenly, everything changed even faster. People flocked to me, which is what I had always secretly wanted, but the person that they wanted wasn’t me. I had flown a bit too close to the sun and now I was stuck with this facade that I couldn’t get rid of. It was never just ‘Saemi,’ I was always simply the object of their desires, something to be acquired. And I had brought it upon myself.”

Recalling the Saemi you knew and recognized in high school, you have a bit more of an understanding of her now. She held up a front in order to protect herself, and as a result, she lost touch with her own self. Your heart hurts for her as you hesitate to reach out and offer comfort. 

“Your brother was the first one who understood me right away. We met in detention during our second to last year, and he saw right through me in the first ten minutes. Sat me down in the teacher’s empty chair and told me that I was a bitch for breaking one of his friend’s hearts.” She closes her eyes as she recalls that very afternoon. “Taeyong gave it to me plain and straight that day: I shouldn’t have promised false love to so many boys if I wasn’t planning to give it in the first place. Your brother may have been a player too, but the boundaries he always set with his girls made him a thousand times better than I was.”

You place your hand on hers, Saemi giving you a grateful smile in return. 

“I thought hard about myself and my decisions after that, and I decided that if I wanted to enjoy the last years of my secondary schooling, I needed to take back control of my own actions. After I apologized to his friend, he offered me genuine friendship in the weeks following, one without the jealousy and lust that I was always caught up in before. I had always been surrounded with so much toxicity, and he was able to pull me out of it so easily that I finally felt seen for the first time.” 

She pauses, glancing at you briefly before staring up at the sky. 

“That was also… the first time I met Jaehyun.”

You shift, staring down at your shoe laces as they sway lightly with the wind. 

Ah, you smile sadly to yourself. We’ve gotten to this part of the story.

“Your brother brought me along with him one day to one of his parties, and I had truly never been enamored with a boy that quickly before.”

You can tell that Saemi’s choosing her words carefully with you, and they hit a lot harder when you relate to what she’s saying. You’re certainly no stranger to his charm.

“We started talking that night and Jaehyun had somehow broken down all of the walls I had carefully built up within the first month of knowing each other. It was new for me. My personal mantra had always followed the lines of, ‘if they like what they see and feel, I might as well use it to my advantage.’ But it was different with him. I didn’t want us to be a one time thing, and I certainly did not want him to think of me as something who couldn’t do that kind of serious relationship shit. I wanted him to like me so badly without thinking about if I had genuine feelings towards him in the first place.”

She takes another deep breath, as if she’s collecting her thoughts, before leaning forward with an airy laugh and sadness clear in her eyes. 

“Have you ever mistaken love for dependency, Y/N?” 

Have you? 

You think back to all the people you’ve liked throughout your teenage years, ranging from hallway crushes to… well- Jaehyun. Your pupils dart to the water as you think about the idea of depending on a person. Do I depend on the people I like, or do I know when to distance myself?

You shake your head. 

“Jaehyun and I… we jumped into everything too quickly. It wasn’t even a right person, wrong time situation; we simply weren’t ready. We tried putting our all into this lone spark that we felt without stepping back and really looking at our relationship.” She stops to observe the rising sun above the lake, its golden reflection casting a healthy glow on her skin. Saemi’s beautiful like this, her feelings bare and raw before you as she lays out her emotions so vulnerably. 

“I guess I never really loved Jaehyun in the way he loved me. He was looking for something tender and real, and younger me was not in the capacity to give that to him. I tried to convince myself every single fucking day that I liked him in that way, but even I knew deep down that my I would never convince myself. I still had this lingering, detrimental mentality of seeing boys as something I could win over, and my fascination with him intertwined with that in ugly ways.”

Saemi’s face falls a little before she takes both of your hands in hers, eyes sincere as she peers at you. 

“The reason I’m telling you all this is because… I saw you,” she whispers carefully, watching your reaction. “Last night. When Jaehyun and I were together in the garden… I saw you watching before you walked away.”

Your heart drops as you look down at her hands holding yours so carefully, her pretty fingers encompassing your wrist as you unwillingly recall the worst emotions you had felt in a while. 

She saw. 

You only manage to get out a small, “oh,” before she squeezes your hand reassuringly. 

“Hey hey hey, look at me,” she leans down slightly to put herself at eye level with you. The edges of her lips quirk up in the slightest, her hair falling elegantly against her face as the wind picks it up and puts it back down again. “I don’t want you to misunderstand. Why? Because all those years ago, Jaehyun misunderstood, and I misunderstood, and it was all of these assumptions and forced feelings that drove our relationship to its grave. We were shit at communicating with each other properly, and that eventually hurt both of us too deeply to heal the right way.”

You nod at her hesitantly, taking in what she’s saying with a newfound understanding. Saemi sighs before smiling again at you. 

“I’ve hurt a lot of people in the past,” she says, forlorn, her eyes crinkled as she sniffs in the cold of the morning. “And I never got the chance to apologize to them properly. But last night, I finally worked up the confidence to revisit our high school days with Jaehyun.” She stops, leaning back onto the dock with her hands behind her. Her eyes close as she soaks in the morning sun, and you can’t help but mirror the position as your heart warms for her. “We finally got our much needed closure last night, and I was feeling a bit down afterwards so he was simply comforting me. And I won’t weigh you down with all the nitty gritty details, but we were able to see our ending all the way through without letting our emotions get in the way.”

You can’t help but reach out and hug the girl, your arms wrapping comfortably around her shoulders to express your awe and gratitude. With a little noise of surprise, Saemi pauses for a few seconds before embracing you back. Everything makes more sense now, and you can’t help but feel a little ashamed for jumping to conclusions so easily. 

“I’m so grateful that you shared all that with me,” you mumble into her shirt, her chuckle ringing out into the lake as she rubs your back like an older sister would. 

“Of course. If anyone deserved to hear all of this, it would be you.”

“Why?”

Saemi snorts, pulling back from your hug before lifting an eyebrow at you. 

“Oh please, Y/N, you should see Jaehyun from everyone else’s eyes. We can all see the way he looks at you.” Your mouth drops open slightly, tilting your head in confusion. 

“He looks at me a certain way?”

“God, I have never met two more stupid people in my lifetime,” she groans, bringing her fingers up to her temple. “And I say this lovingly, of course.”

With a fond look on her face, she nudges your shoulder. “But I’m really glad Jaehyun has someone like you.”

You bashfully look down at the water, a rosy blush creeping up your cheeks at her words. You were never 100% sure of where you stood with him, but that familiar feeling of hope has started to creep up once again. Could I go through that again, though? That same push and pull?

Seeming to sense your sudden aversion, Saemi loops her arm through yours in one smooth motion and sets your hand in her lap.

“Hey. Promise me you’ll go talk to him?”

You hesitate to reply, mouth dry as you think about everything she’s poured out to you. You think about your own feelings, and you think about the possibility of having something more with Jaehyun. You think about his history with Saemi, and how this issue of communication has ruined your confidence so many times. But what is it all worth if you don’t try?

With a slow nod, you offer her a reassuring smile before dusting off your clothes and standing up. “Promise.”

Saemi grins at you.

“That’s my girl.”

“Jaehyun?” she asks, putting a hand out on his arm as he looks behind her, distressed. She’s never seen him like this, a nervous jitter in his hands as his eyes dart around at the scene behind them.

Turning around, she just manages to catch a glimpse of a girl rushing towards the back of the house, her head downturned but not masking the obvious face of discomfort in her features. Her friend turns around to glare at them before following close after.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, chewing on his lip as he hesitates to run after your escaping form. “I fucked up so bad, Saemi.” Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he lets out a noise of exasperation as he watches you get farther and farther away. 

“What?”

“She’s leaving, Saemi. What do I do, what do I do,” he mumbles under his breath. “I just know she’s gonna think I hurt her on purpose. I always fuck it up somehow.”

“Woah, let’s breathe first,” she holds him steady at the shoulders, grip strong as she turns his body to face hers. “Breathe slowly.”

After a few panicked breaths, he looks back at her and attempts to inhale at a slower pace. A few seconds pass and he’s calmed down already, but a worried crease still flits across his features nonetheless.

“Listen to me, Jaehyun. Don’t leave her in the dark.”

His body loses tension bit by bit as he nods back a little, a heavy look in his eyes.

“We both know how that feels, better than anyone.”

…

Twenty-three missed calls.

That’s how many you’ve accumulated over one day.

You do the math on your bedroom ceiling as you lay splayed out on the mattress like a starfish. Each glow-in-the-dark, plastic star represents a missed call, and they swim across your vision as you point up at them with your hand to count them. 

There’s seven from Mark, another seven from Chaewon, four from Taeyong, one from Johnny, and the remaining four? Mentally moving the glowing stars across the solar system of the ceiling, you pick four of the brightest glowing stars before keeping them hidden in a little group at the corner of your eye.

4 missed calls from Jeong Jaehyun, your phone reads from beside you on the mattress, the screen habitually lighting up throughout the day.

Your hand itches to grab it and just call him like you so desperately want to, but you exercise self-restraint as you roll over and stuff your face into your pillow. It’s unfairly hot tonight — the sticky, humid type —  and being surrounded by all of your fluffy blankets and pillows does nothing to help your condition, but you don’t want to move out of your room. Letting out a muffled scream into the fabric, you groan to yourself when you realize that all of the problems floating around in your head won’t just magically disappear.

A normal Sunday would have gone like this: waking up mid afternoon with an abnormally large appetite, eating the entire contents of your kitchen to your heart’s content, and then going back to bed. Unfortunately, today was a bit different.

For the entire day, you’ve been busy. Busy thinking.

You had quickly left Johnny’s estate after your talk with Saemi early in the morning, borrowing one of Johnny’s cars from his garage and leaving him a little note that you’d return it soon (to be honest, you doubt that he’ll even notice). You’ve been in your room ever since. 

With your eyes trained out the window, your record player ran through entire sets of albums as you lay on your bed in contemplation for the entirety of the afternoon. The fan in your room barely kept you cool as it picked up the fabric of your sundress every few minutes, marking another block of time that had gone by without you getting up and doing something about your position. 

You let out a humph before throwing an arm over your eyes and retreating back into deep thought.

I’ve been distancing myself from him the entire day, and that’s the opposite of what I want to do, right? I’m turning into exactly what Saemi warned me not to.

Biting your lip, you turn your body over to stare at your motionless phone. But what should I do?

In a single impulsive movement, you reach out to grab the device before you can change your mind. Your fingers lead you to your contacts before your brain can catch up.

You can’t even fully register what you’ve just done, but Jaehyun’s name flashing across your screen certainly makes it all very much real, your phone waiting for him to pick up on the other side of the line. Your face gets hotter and hotter as the seconds tick on, the beeping of a no-caller reply heightening your nerves.

Finally, with a little click from your hand, he picks up. Your eyes widen. You really didn’t really think this through; now you had to actually talk to him.

“Hey,” Jaehyun sounds out, his voice breathless. “I- are you okay?”

“Yeah.” At least I think I am, you add on to yourself, grimacing. “Um… are you free today?”

“Am- am I free today? Yes! I mean yes, yes I’m free today.” 

You can’t help but smile at the way he trips over his words a bit, his nervousness bleeding over your speaker. 

“Well then, rooftop at mine at 10?”

“For real?” Jaehyun exclaims, checking the time on his alarm clock. That’s in twenty minutes. “Wait, I’ll be there. I promise.”

And with that, the two of you hang up with a million unspoken words and unfinished sentences. You let out the breath you were holding in, because you genuinely thought you would pass out when you heard Jaehyun’s voice again after finding out all that you did. Throwing yourself against your bed, you let yourself indulge in your feeling of hope again.

“He’ll be here,” you sigh in happiness to yourself. You relax into your pillows before springing up immediately, a look of horror taking over your face. “Oh my god, he’ll be here.”

Rushing around your room with a newfound energy, you make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed (although you technically did just roll out of bed, but he doesn’t have to know that) before unlatching the window of your bedroom and carefully climbing out onto your roof.

It’s well past dusk now, and the sky is abnormally clear with not a single cloud in sight. The moon shines brilliantly in its place as it casts an eerie glow on the panels you’re sitting on, their bumpy texture making it seem like the material is constantly shifting. 

You let yourself go for a moment, resting your head in the palms of your heads before staring out at the roofs of your city. They create a complex, urban terrain: a mix of timely balconies and rooftop gardens, orange lanterns and fairy lights alike. 

The beeping of a car horn brings you out of your daze. Peering down into the street below you, a familiar, classy black car is visible through all of the telephone lines. 

Okay Y/N, deep breaths. 

Jaehyun gets out of the front seat, immediately looking up in hopes of catching a glimpse of you before you notice he’s there. However, when his eyes follow the length of your house up, he finds that you’re already staring at him with an unreadable expression. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this nervous in his life. With cold hands, he lifts himself onto the electrical box beside your house before climbing up onto the slope of the roof, climbing over to you with an uneasy smile on his face. 

“Hey.”

You tuck your chin into your arms, leaning forward to look at him curiously. “You could’ve taken the window, you know, but that works too.”

“What’s life without any risks, hm?”

As he settles himself, you can’t help but think that there’s a double lining to his words. “That’s the most Jaehyun-esque thing I’ve ever heard.”

His laugh warms your heart in a way you didn't know it could.

The first few moments are quiet, just two pairs of eyes looking up at the stars before Jaehyun breaks the silence with a small cough. 

“We got lucky, there’s no clouds tonight. Pure stars.” You look over in his general direction, his gaze not even directed towards the sky anymore. 

He pauses, so you turn and happen to meet eyes at the same time. Both of you open your mouths to talk, prompted by the invisible tension between you. 

“Let me just say that—“ 

“I just wanted to tell you—“ he starts at the same time you do, eyes widening when you both go quiet once again. “You go first.” Giving him a grateful smile, you think a bit about how to express yourself before twisting your body completely so that you’re facing him. 

“I just wanted to apologize first,” you start, holding up a hand when Jaehyun starts to protest. “Wait. I really want to tell you this before I get too nervous to.”

“I know everyone was worried when I went kinda off the grid this morning, but I needed some time alone with my thoughts. I shouldn't have ignored you like that, especially when things seemed so off between us. This is really hard to say to your face but,” you glance away from him as he waits patiently for you, “I always feel this rush of different emotions whenever I’m around you. And sometimes it’s confusing, but other times—“ stopping to exhale, you notice Jaehyun’s grin from the corner of your eye. 

“Hey, why are you laughing? I’m trying to be serious right now,” you whine. He simply puts his hand up to his mouth to hide the elated expression on his face. 

“You’re just too cute, that’s all,” he replies adoringly, his eyes creasing behind his hand. 

“I can’t take this,” you mutter in embarrassment, stuffing your face into your arm to hide the blush of your cheeks. “See! Stuff like that. You make me experience, like, thirty different emotions at once.”

He simply giggles at you, throwing out a little “my bad,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry at all. You nudge him in the arm.

“Sorry sorry, Y/N. Wait, I’ll be serious now.”

Both of you taking deep breaths, you put your hand up to your heart to calm its erratic beating as Jaehyun composes his expression back to normal. 

“I really wanted to apologize too.”

You glance at him in surprise as the words leave his mouth, sincere and heavy. 

“I’ve been pretty shitty to you, and I recognize how confusing it must have been for you to watch me constantly go back and forth between different personas. Honestly, being back home forced me to face the people here, and suddenly I was thrown into this internal conflict between my high school life and my present self. That’s still no excuse for how many mixed signals I gave you these past few months, but I want you to know that it was never my intention to hurt you.”

Reaching out to brush a small leaf off your shoulder, his hand trails down your arm until he’s taken your hand in his. You can tell how much he means it by the way he’s looking at you — like you hold the entire galaxy in your eyes. You think that you finally see a replication of how you look at him yourself; after all, it’s being reflected back to you right now. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you can tell, but I really like you,” he whispers, bringing your hand up to his chest. He wants you to feel how much his nerves are racing just as fast as yours. 

You think that your heart just about stops. You’ve dreamt of this moment since you were younger, and now that it’s finally coming to life, it’s unreal to think that he feels the same.

“I think you know how I feel,” you reply back quietly, looking down at your hands entwined with his. 

“Say it?” he asks with a pleading face, the corners of his lips quirking up when you roll your eyes. 

“Jeong Jaehyun, do you really think I believe that you didn’t know that I’ve liked you ever since we were kids?” Shaking his head innocently at your suspicion, he pouts in a manner that’s very unlike him. 

“Fine,” you give up, unable to hide the smile creeping up on your face. “I like you Jaehyun, I like you so much that you don’t even know how happy I am right now.”

“Oh, I know. Come here,” he scoots over before tapping the side of his shoulder with his finger. Not getting the memo, you tilt your head inquisitively before he reaches over himself and puts your head on his shoulder himself. If your heart was skipping beats before, it’s probably failing to beat at all now. 

“I want you to trust me,” he murmurs under his breath, his grip tightening on your hand. “I know I don’t have the best track record right now, but I’ll prove to you how much I like you.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “You don’t have to prove anything…“ You wholeheartedly believe and trust in his feelings, but with the way he’s looking at you right now, you decide to humor him and raise an eyebrow prompting him to go on. 

“Wait, you’ll do anything?” You ask, looking up at the stars to hide your telling grin. 

“Anything. Even suffer through another one of those awful DiCaprio movies.”

“Suffer?” you exclaim, your head lifting off of his shoulder with his words. 

“Shit- no no not suffer. Who said suffer? You must’ve misheard me, I most definitely said enjoy.”

“You’re on thin ice, Jeong.”

He snorts at your threatening expression, an arm snaking behind you to wrap around your waist protectively. 

Turning his head to look down at you, you’re met with his nose almost touching yours. You can see every eyelash, every freckle adorning his skin as neither of you make the motion to move away. 

Jaehyun loses his breath at the sight of you so close. He keeps his teasing eyes on yours before taking that extra step forward to bump your noses together. Glancing down at your lips, he steadies himself so that his voice can sound as confident as he envisions it in his head. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please, Jaehyun.”

With your consent, he pulls you forward by the waist before slotting your lips together carefully. You’re not sure if it’s the pressure at which he’s holding you, or the fact that you’ve waited for this moment for almost your entire youth, but kissing Jaehyun is glorious. 

He moves a hand up to cup the back of your neck before pushing forward impossibly closer, tucking your hair behind your ear in one smooth motion as his mouth moves in tandem with yours. 

You make a noise of surprise when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, giving you a little nip before licking over the skin carefully. The passion and lust that seeps through his tongue is made clear as the minutes pass, and your reactions only spur him on.

Th mix of his skin on yours burning its way across your body and the delicacy at which he touches you makes your heart alight for a completely different reason. Threading your fingers through his hair, you're delighted to find that that particular motion makes him shudder under your hands, and kiss you more like his life depends on it.

After a while of marking each other's skin and exchanging sweet nothings between his kisses, you tap his chest to pull apart for air, your breathless mien making him grin smugly. 

“I’m that good, huh?”

“Shut up, Jaehyun.”

…

The rings on your fingers clink with his as you hand him a metal camping cup, its silver surface hot to the touch even at night. Glancing up at Jaehyun, you laugh when you catch his skeptical expression. 

“The hell is this…” he asks in borderline horror as the liquid in his cup sloshes around. 

“Mark’s gonna love hearing that,” you remark, putting your own cup to your lips as you bring your knees to your chest.

It’s the most comfortable when you’re with Jaehyun like this, sitting on the hood of his car in the dead of the night to stargaze into the early hours of the morning. 

It’s been a few weeks since that night on the rooftop, and you’ve never felt more alive. From long drives with Taeyong to mini adventures with Mark, and from jukebox diners with Chaewon and constellation hunting with Jaehyun, you finally feel at home in a place you’re about to leave. University is close on the horizon, but that doesn’t mean you can’t spend your last free evenings with the people you love the most. 

“Is this your recipe?” Jaehyun asks, pulling up your legs so that they rest over his lap. You shake your head with a cheeky smile. 

“Stole it,” you whisper, scrunching your nose at the distinct smell. 

“And what did Mark’s creative ass come up with this time,” he laments back, taking your cup to compare it with his in confusion. 

“Our cups hold the same exact thing, Jaehyun. I didn’t secretly poison your drink if that’s what you’re thinking, and I know you are.” You take back your cup before taking another sip and taking a little piece of paper out of your pocket to read from. “But anyway, it's ‘orange liquor, orange juice, lime juice, maple syrup, sliced jalapeño, and agave blanco sugar in the rim.’ You can steal the recipe too, but don't tell him that I gave it to you. He’d murder me.”

“Mm,” he muses, nuzzling into your neck. “I wouldn’t want my girlfriend dead.”

You freeze in mid-air, mind turning the title over and over again in your head. “Girlfriend?”

Jaehyun sits up immediately, looking at you with the most mortified expression on his face. “Fuck, I never asked you to be my girlfriend, did I?”

With a small giggle at his antics, you simply lean against him and pat his arm in consolation. “It’s okay, I don’t need a label to know how you feel about me.” Jaehyun hums contently before suddenly wrapping his arms around you, your delighted shriek ringing out as he pulls you down with him and falls back against the metal roof of the car. 

“Can we just stay like this forever?” 

You sigh in satisfaction as your body follows the rises and falls of his chest. The stars above seem to blink happily at the two of you as they make their way across the sky, the little, twinkling lights of overpassing planes highlighting their presence.

Intertwining your fingers with his, he gently kisses the side of your face before closing his eyes.

Even if the two of you hadn’t realized it yet, it had always been like this: two childish souls crafting the idea of mature love. Two blooming young adults, with fizzing feelings and cherry picked lips, daring to love one another like the grownups in black and white colored movies.

Your summers are defined by sticky ‘n sweet cherry cola, rides around the abandoned carousel with your friends, and “borrowing” quarters out of your brother’s Cadillac to insert into the jukebox of the local diner. They’re tinged with the taste of Mark’s special drinks and Chaewon’s sweet words, with Taeyong’s cheery voice ringing out throughout your house and your parents’ weekly sitcom reruns. And most of all, summers are made of Jaehyun’s lavender cologne and the way he holds you close when you need it the most.

“Don’t be surprised if the moon calls you by name, Y/N, because I tell her about you all the time.”

…

<3 you can find their character profiles HERE.

[ for Y/N, mark, chaewon, jaehyun, taeyong, and saemi ]

…

xoxo

2023 © kiachiako | all rights reserved.

#jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fics #jaehyun fic #jaehyun fic recs #nct 127 #nct #nct u #nct fic recs #nct imagines #nct au #nct 127 angst #nct imagine #nct 127 fic #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun au #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun nct #nct angst #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #brothers best friend #kpop au #nct aus #nct 127 imagines

[suuuupernovaaa]

txansngum

txansngum [English] n. desperation; feeling of great worry

Anonymous Request: Neteyam's mate from the forest no longer able to stand being away from him after a few year’s travels to meet him at the sea.

After two years apart, you are no longer able to stand being parted from Neteyam, and make the journey across the sea to reunite.

Adult Neteyam. TW: depression.

1,394 words.

I had not slept in two years.

Not really, not deeply, not the way I used to sleep - dreamlessly, peacefully, without worries.

Now, I tossed and turned, sometimes I cried, and mostly, I worried. Every night. I began to dread nightfall, knowing what would lurk for me there.

Dreams of him in danger, of him calling out to me to help, but I was too far away to do anything about it.

I was living a half life, doing only the bare minimum to keep myself alive, to make it through the days, weeks, months, and years until I might see him again.

Knowing he was waiting for me was the only thing that kept me somewhat sane. Sometimes I felt I might be pathetic or desperate, but what was I meant to do about it? I could not stop how I felt.

"I will come back for you, Y/N," he had told me before he left, clutching my hands so tightly I thought he might break them, a great sadness in his eyes, and that was the last thing he said to me.

Over two years ago.

"Y/N," my mother said, gently shaking me awake. Though I was old enough to have a hammock of my own to sleep in, it was too much to bear, and so I stayed with my mother and father. "Y/N, hurry," she said, and I noticed the urgency in her tone. My eyes flew open, and my mother knelt before me, holding a small pack and a poncho.

"You must go, now. You father has left for a hunt. You know the way?"

My mother pulled me into a seated position. "What? What way?" I asked, half asleep, hungry, sad.

"To the Metkayina," she hissed, "to Neteyam. I won't watch you live this way anymore. You must find him."

She shoved the pack into my hands, and pulled the woven poncho over my head.

"Go, now," she insisted.

Still confused, I stood up and exited our home. The clan was not quite awake yet, it was still nearly dark outside. As I breathed in the fresh morning air, my mind began to clear.

My mother was giving me permission to make the journey by myself, to leave her and my father behind, and to see Neteyam again.

My steps quickened, and my heart pounded in my chest. I began to run.

"Ta'ry," I called, clicking my tongue. "Ta'ry!"

Only moments later did I hear the flap of her wings, and she landed before me. "Good morning, Ta'ry," I said, running my hand along the neck of my Ikran. "Are you ready for a long ride?"

With my pack slung over my shoulder, I connected and mounted. I could feel her excitement, reflecting mine.

"Let's go," I whispered, and we took off.

---

The journey took many days, but my mother had put enough food and water in my pack to sustain me. In our down time, Ta'ry hunted for herself and we rested - but not much. I was determined to get there as fast as we could.

My stomach was in a knot the entire time. Though I had faith in Neteyam, two years was quite a long time. Did it mean something that he had not yet returned to me? Had he moved on, joined another clan, and found another woman?

It was not worth thinking about, I tried to tell myself. I would soon find out.

The Metkayina lived along a beautiful shore, on a sandy beach in front of a lush green forest. It was such a sight to behold, my anxiety almost melted away as I approached - but it returned when many gathered on the beach at my approach.

Ta'ry and I landed, and she took off again for the forest, hearing the cries of other Ikran that surely belonged to the Sully family. My heart began to hope.

The na'vi here looked so different from my clan at home. They were a lighter, more green color, and I noticed immediately that most were covered in intricate tattoos.

"Who are you?" a voice called, and I saw an imposing man coming through the small crowd that had gathered. His dark hair was piled on top of his head, and his eyes were narrowed.

"I am... I am Y/N, of the Omatikaya. I come looking for, for the Sullys."

"Y/N?"

I scanned the crowd for the voice calling my name, and through the crowd appeared Lo'ak.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed. "It's really you! Wait til Neteyam sees!"

He approached me quickly, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

The stress of the journey overtook me, and I fainted in Lo'ak's arms.

--

When I began to regain consciousness, I was too tired to move or open my eyes. I could feel that I was laying on a soft bed, and I noticed the sound and scent of the ocean near by, and that was enough to remind me where I was... but I was still too tired to move.

People were around me, I could feel and hear them, and then they began to speak.

"She looks so thin," a woman said, and I thought it might be Netyiri. "Look at her face, her hollow cheeks... she must not have been eating enough on the journey."

"Long before that," another woman said, and I felt someone touch my arm, turning it over. "She has been sick a long time. Sick of mind."

She placed something wet and warm inside my wrist, and turned my arm back down.

"She will be better when she sees him. We should have brought her with us, but she was not of age. He has suffered without her, as well, but will not admit it," Neytiri said, her voice full of regret.

"Your youngest boy, or eldest?"

"Eldest," Neteyam's mother said, and I drifted off again.

--

The next time I woke up, I felt more alert. Taking in a deep breath, I stretched my arms above my head and sighed.

"Y/N!"

My eyes shot open. Sitting beside me was Neteyam, and he looked so different.

He was a man now. He was at least a foot taller, with broad shoulders and long braids, but his eyes were the same, though I had never seen them so full of concern.

"Neteyam!" I sat up, and fell over into his arms. Eagerly, he wrapped them around me, holding me to his chest.

It felt as if I had not truly taken a deep breath for two years, and now my lungs were opening up, finally accepting air. He smelled of the sea, and I began to cry.

"You could have died, Y/N!" he chastised. "Ronal says it looks as if you have not eaten or slept in years. You were not taking care of yourself!"

I winced at his angry words. He pushed me back just a little, and took my face in his hands. "You must eat, and grow strong. You have to keep up here."

"Will they let me stay?"

Finally, his face softened. "You think they would send you away? Bah, of course not. I would not allow us to be parted again, Y/N. Not when you need me to survive." His scowl turned into a teasing smile, and I looked down, blushing.

"I tried. I ate! I just... couldn't sleep," I shrugged, embarrassed at the way I had carried on since we parted.

He pulled me to his chest once more. "Me either. I dreamed of you when I did." He pushed my hair out of my face, and pressed his lips to the top of my head. "I had my bag packed, Y/N. I was set to leave tomorrow to come and bring you back to me."

I sat away from him suddenly, staring at him. "No. Really?"

We were forced to laugh at the absurdity of our situation. "Dad said it was finally safe enough to go back, just long enough to get you and return. But you beat me to it."

He wiped the tears from my eyes, and we smiled at each other.

"You must never leave again, Neteyam," I reached up to grab his wrist. "Not without me."

He pulled my face to his, and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "Never, Y/N."

#avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar fic

[harmshake]

All To Me: Chapter Four

Roman is ready to give his all to Golden if she's ready to answer one simple question...

Roman Reigns x Golden (Chubby!Black!OC) | 18+ ONLY, NSFW, drama, aggression (her to him), smut | 2,948 words

Happy reading! Read Chapter Five or my other Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨

"Golden, baby. Please."

Joe's voice could barely be heard over the pounding rain behind him as he stood on her porch, soaked and sad that he even had to beg to be let inside her home. It wasn't the first time, but he hoped it would be the last.

He knew she was upset with him, or at least weary of him since she had been ignoring his calls for two weeks. He hadn't seen her in just as long, and while he didn't want to piss her off by showing up out of the blue, he couldn't avoid the pull that kept tugging him in her direction. It's what yanked him out of his bed and led him here tonight.

It was Golden's heartstrings that caused that persistent pull. Been that way for years. Joe knew his heartstrings were tied in knots for this beautiful woman standing before him, looking up at him with bewildered, deep brown eyes. And he wanted nothing more than to soothe the troubled thoughts he knew lingered behind them.

"Joe, I can't believe this..." Her soft voice trailed off as she crossed her arms over her chest and blinked at him. He didn't detect any anger in her tone and he was thankful for that. He shifted his weight onto his left foot and stuffed his big hands into the single pocket of his hoodie as he tried to match her tone.

"I'm sorry to pop up like this. But I ain't seen or heard from you in a while. I was gettin' worr—" Joe started but a crack of thunder cut him off. His eyes widened with a silent plea to step inside. It took Golden an extra second to take a step back with a defeated huff and let him through the doorway.

She stood awkwardly to his left as she snatched a pink mug from her glass key table and clutched it to her bosom like it helped her stay sane in his presence. Paired with that bewildered look still plastered on her pretty face, Joe felt his heart sink to his stomach. It made him ponder if he truly was such a burden to her...as well as made him yearn for one last chance to lighten the air and finally unfurl the storm clouds that muddled their relationship.

"Thank you...and sorry for gettin' your floor wet," he said with a glance down at his black Nikes in a tiny puddle on her tile. He then peeked at her mug again and knew right away it was either hot chocolate or coffee, her favorites, but noticed no steam rose from it. "Can I warm that up for you?" He pointed his finger at it. "I'd like to use your kitchen, anyway, to grab some paper towels. If that's okay."

Golden nodded once and he warily wrapped his hand around her mug. She flinched a little from his touch but let him take it before she quickly disappeared into her den. Joe let out a slight huff of his own as he shuffled into her kitchen to reheat her hot chocolate in her microwave and retrace his steps with paper towels to clean up his sodden mess. He couldn't shake feeling hurt by her bristled demeanor as it made him feel like a stranger in her home where he used to keep his clothes and lay his head some nights.

However, if Golden was reluctant to talk to him, she wouldn't have let him in. He kept that in the forefront of his mind as he handed her back her mug, took a seat on her sofa, and thought of the words to say to convince her that she had no reason to keep running away from him...especially since he had every reason to run after her.

It was one of those reasons that even though she quietly sat three feet away from him on her sofa, he could still feel her pull, warm and supple, still enticing and inviting him in whenever their eyes met.

Golden was deeply in love with him. And Joe needed to figure out how to persuade her that he, too, was deeply in love with her. 

He hunched over in deeper reflection, his eyes on her floor and his knees spread far apart as he rested his elbows on them with his chin on his knuckles before he uttered, "I imagine you've given more thought to us...and that's why you ain't hit me up."

He then took a glimpse at her to tentatively add, "Was that your way of tellin' me you're done with me?"

She took her time to sip on her hot chocolate as if it calmed her nerves. He was doing his best to keep his voice even and not let his nerves slip into it when it tore him up inside that she seemed to be slipping away from him.

"You can be honest, Golden," Joe muttered. "I know I gave you a lot of grief in the past...but I still see a future for us. You really don't see it?"

"I want to see it. But I still feel that grief like you did it to me yesterday. I see it every time I look at your daughter. That's what makes our future impossible."

Her face was so smooth, as was her voice. Yet as Joe's drenched hoodie began to nip at his skin with a biting cold, he felt it from her words, also. He snatched the hoodie off and ran his hands over his slightly damp, black tee shirt, needing a moment to collect himself and speak without her hearing how she shook him.

"I'm so sorry for everything I put you through. But I feel like I've been sayin' sorry and tryna make it up to you for five years straight," he mumbled through his jumbled thoughts, his fingers itching for something to fiddle with besides the small, velvet box he hid in his left sweatpants pocket. It would have to remain hidden for now as he tried not to chide Golden. "I'm not gon' act like it probably won't take me five more years to get back on your good side. But you gotta be fair. Ka'Mayah is a part of me. And so are you, baby...I love you."

"I'm not your baby, Joe. You gotta baby to take care of and I don't need you to take care of me. Or waste any more time trying to make things right." 

The way Golden disregarded his sentiment as her eyes glossed over with solemnity haunted Joe. It was as if she peered not through him but beyond him like she was truly done with him. It dawned on him then that she was when she sat her mug on her coffee table and rose from her sofa in an effort for him to follow her to the door. 

Though he couldn't move if he wanted to, his limbs suddenly heavy with despair seeping into his muscles like poison. And he didn't want to, not if this was how she planned to end it: Abruptly, painfully, and staining his heart black. He stared up at her in disbelief and before he knew it, his pain addressed her before he could shut his damn mouth.

"So, it's like that? Couple weeks apart and you ready to throw seven years away? Five of which I was your man when your other man couldn't make you happy. Five of which you strung me along knowin' how I feel 'bout you," Joe spat in a wavered tone, waving his hand that quivered a bit in the air. 

He heard his hypocrisy, and he knew Golden could, as well, from how her arched eyebrows wildly knitted together, but he couldn't stop himself. He believed his pain mattered, too, and, like hers, it had a valve he worked to keep latched until her words smashed it open.

Yet he heard Golden's valve erupt at the same time, louder than the thunder outside, when she clapped her hands in his face and retorted, "Are you serious? You're talking to me like this ain't all your fault in the first place. I don't want to fucking hear it, Joe. Get up and get out of my house."

"Pssh, wow." He hoisted himself and loomed over her, his appalled eyes fixed on her apathetic ones before they fell to her chest he noticed fluttered with her hitched breaths. She noticed it, too, and folded her arms over it with a frustrated sigh to steady herself.

Joe knew her well enough to know she was indeed angry...but not angry enough to kick him out. Golden was little but strong and could wrestle him to the door if she wanted. Instead, they were wayward together with raw emotion flooding over and all around them. Raw emotion Joe knew he had to settle if he didn't want this to be the last time he ever saw her.

"Just tell me this and I'll go..." he said in a hushed tone. "Tell me you don't love me. Tell me you've fallen out of love with me."

She pursed her lips to tell him a lie but then she sucked her teeth. "Joe, get out of my house," Golden repeated under her breath and grabbed him by his forearm to haul him out of her den. Joe grabbed her hand, too, to hold to his chest where his heart pounded for her, noting the fight that left her eyes when she felt his gentle touch.

"Golden, please..." He softly squeezed her hand as he beseeched her. "'I love you with my whole heart. Let me prove it to you. Let me be the man you need."

He expected a rebuttal but he didn't expect her to slap him. The fight he thought he had melted away stung his cheek as she tried to jerk away from him.

"You don't fucking love me, Joe. Because when I wanted you to be my man and I fucking poured my heart out to you, what did you do? What did you do?! Now let me go!"

Golden struck him again and he took it, knowing that while he loathed it, he earned it, knowing he pushed her to it. But he didn't let her go. Rather he let her get it out of her system, his heart aching as much as his cheek and chest each time she hit him and broke into tears that streamed down her cheeks.

And each time he hit her back with the mere words, "I love you."

He would be tireless in his quest to love her as he knew she was the love of his life, and that fact seemed to wear her down as she raised her hand once more but suddenly dropped it and wept, "Then why did you hurt me?"

Joe secured her in his arms and felt her shudder against him with her sobs that threatened tears to well in his eyes, too. But he held himself together as he held her tight and declared in a low tone, "I was stupid. I didn't appreciate you when I should have...and all I want is to appreciate and love you the right way. Right now."

He kept his arm on Golden's waist and cupped her chin to tilt her wet face to look at him, praying that she could see the truth, the fucking desperation, in his gaze before he dipped his head down to press his lips to hers. His kiss was cautious, tasting her hurt, her doubt on his tongue—hurt he wanted to heal and doubt he needed to replace with confidence that he was capable of loving her in every way she deserved.

"Let me love you, sweetheart...please," Joe breathed between his kisses that made her sniffle. She didn't kiss him back but she didn't pull away from him, either, so he picked her up, her sniffle shifting to a little gasp as he threw her legs around his hips and carried her to her staircase, down her hall, and through her bedroom door. It was dark and he didn't feel it as urgent to flip the switch on her wall as it was to make love to her, the pale light from downstairs spilling across her bed where he lay her down.

True to her name, Golden's cocoa-brown and thick thighs were luminous even in the shadows as he kneeled between them. They were soft, too, as his hands caressed along them to take off her pajama shorts, his lips not far behind to kiss everywhere he touched. "I love you, Golden..." Joe whispered to her humid essence that he couldn't wait to devour, his gaze already devouring the sight of her propped up on her elbows with her gorgeous face on him.

Even though it was twisted into a scowl, he was determined to pacify it, whispering, "You're my everything," before he planted a long kiss on her essence. A faint moan escaped him to feel her velvety folds surround his tongue when he parted them. He heard her moan, too, as he slowly lapped at her, letting the airy sound guide him to her clit that he carefully traced with the letters of her beautiful name until she fell onto her back and cried out.

Her hands reached for him, her fingers messily digging into the hair he had slicked back into a bun, and he dug his fingers into her hips, his mouth suckling on and his fingertips teasing into the sweet nectar he coaxed from her with more of her moans that he replied to with more, "I love you, baby."

"I fucking hate you," Golden groaned to the ceiling but he felt her thighs beginning to shake around his head. 

"Tell me to stop then, baby..." Joe paused long enough to groan back but filled the silence with another drag of his licks over her clit, another thrust of his fingertips along her g-spot, to fill his ears with her lovely noise. 

He had never seen her like this before, so combative with her words yet so docile in his hands. It would have concerned him only if Golden shoved him back, yet her fingers remained buried in his hair, plucking it loose from his bun as she bucked her hips, letting his hair cascade over her lap, and shielding him from her bogus barrage of "I hate you." It only ceased as he made her shout instead with each throb of her dripping essence that he caught and catered to with attentive flicks of his tongue.

Yet she was still vexed, he could see it on her face that contorted from a scowl to a pout on her plump lips even as her body trembled around his thick fingers...which meant he wasn't finished yet. 

Joe delicately slipped his fingers out to lick along with his glossy lips and wiped his glistening beard with the bottom of his shirt before he pulled it off altogether, as well as hers, and stepped out of his sweatpants. He watched her glare fall to his length that hung hard between his muscular thighs, certain he saw a glimmer of the woman he knew loved him just as much as he loved her...but then she quickly flitted her eyes away when he slid his hands up her body until he cradled her face to meet his gaze.

"Do you want me to stop, baby?" Joe asked her softly as he nestled himself on top of her, searching her brown eyes for approval to let him love her as thoroughly as he could. 

"...Yes." It took a moment for Golden to muster up the word but it took him less than a second to ease off her. She scooted further up her bed to tuck her legs underneath herself as he stood there feeling more naked and vulnerable than he ever had in his entire life. It made her next words form a knife that stabbed his bare chest and pierced his blackened heart as she whispered, "You always try to 'fix' shit with your dick...it's not going to work this time."

"I...but we talked and—"

"And you ignored what I said thinking you could change my mind. I told you...you can't make this right. You need to go." Golden had that faraway look in her eyes again like she couldn't see him or his despair. It wrenched the knife in his heart and he winced.

"You also said you hate me and you and I both know that shit ain't true," Joe spoke despondently but he still couldn't move with that poison seeping into his blood again from his heart, from her. 

"Yeah...but look where loving you has got me. Please, Joe...don't make this more difficult than it needs to be. Just go."

The heavy rain that hurled against her bedroom window came with a flash of lightning and a boom of rolling thunder he could feel beneath his feet. It sounded like the world was ending outside as Joe listened to his world tell him that this was the end. 

He didn't want to do what she accused him of and neglect her words...but as he pulled back on his sweatpants, the little box in his pocket compelled him to retrieve it and murmur the words he realized he would never have a second chance to say than right here tonight.

Her lips fell open but nothing came out when Joe revealed the dainty yet elegant diamond-encrusted gold ring cushioned in the red silk padding.

"Lovin' you is all I'm meant to do, Golden. Will you marry me?"

.

.

.

Thanks for reading! 💜

🫶🏾 Tagging: @wrestlingprincess80 @visionarymode @miyuhpapayuh @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @nayys-world @msbigredmachine @purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @seeingstarks @555sage @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @weirdosandhopelessromantics @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills @gomussy @theglamclosetsl @baeusos @2-muchsauce @empressdede @woahdude9481 @browngalmal @romansnumberonegirl @twocentuar @claymorexpunisher @alichesmi

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x chubby oc #roman reigns x oc #black writers #spilled ink

[ravinoforre]

I was trying to search if I'd posted this on here yet but I can't find it on my blog. Maybe I have and I didn't tag it properly. Oh well. This was done last year, I was testing out some watercolour brushes I'd found. I'm happy with how it turned out!

I just think they're neat together :)

#i think about these two a lot #like they've actually kept me somewhat sane and grounded over the past like... 15 years? #shit going down at school/home/work? especially home? think about my silly little stories with them #the very definition of comfort characters #and even though i've shipped em for years #i don't really have a name for it #other than the Ryuleaf I've recently been calling it but in an official sense? #certainly never found one online or seen anyone else even do this #i'm getting sentimental and rambling it's like 2am and i have a cold i shuold really be in bed now #ravinoforre #ravinranting123 #trainer leaf #trainer michael

[sarawritestories]

Love Story (All Too Well Chapter 1 Pt 2)

Cassian X OC, Eris X OC

Summary: Under the Mountain, Estella, have flash backs to her 50 years in captivity, and losing hope she will ever see her lover. That is until a human girl shows up and give her and her brother Rhysand something they lost decades ago...Hope and in a matter of mere months she is reunited with the love of her life. The General of the Night Court Armies.

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Torture, Dub con, Physical abuse, Under the mountain trials

A/N: Special Thanks to @milswrites and @eve175 for keeping me sane when I wrote this and honestly prevented me from scraping and starting over again!

Also Two post in one day from me! I am on a roll! And probably will be taking a small break 😅😅

All Too Well Master List ACOTAR Masterlist

The sound of Amarantha’s screams was like music to Eris Vanserra’s ears. He watched as Tamlin ripped her to shreds, glancing over to see Estella holding Feyre’s body close to her murmuring something to herself that his fae hearing couldn’t pick up on. The screams ceased and Tamlin walked back to where the young fae princess and the human cursebreaker.

Eris watched as Estella a tear-streaked face looked up at the High Lord of Spring her laced covered chest heaving, “I’m so sorry Tamlin.” She lowered her head in shame, as if this was her fault.

Tamlin lifted Estella’s face to meet his eyes, “This wasn’t your fault. Okay?”

Eris moved toward Amarantha’s mutilated body as he heard Estella let out a sob, “You asked me to protect her I failed.” Eris closed his eyes and rubbed at his chest hoping the ache would dissipate.

Eris looked over at Amarantha’s remains that were mostly ribbons of flesh and found what he was looking for as Tamlin hushed the Princess of Night. “You did no such thing, Stella, now please give her to me.”  Tamlin’s voice was tender as he knelt in front of the female holding his love’s corpse. “Come on, Flower.”  

Romeo Save Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone

Eris looked over at the dais to see Estella, half of her pinned to the back of her head, the rest of her hair had fallen past her breast in soft curls. Clad in a sheer orange gown, the fabric barely covering anything, especially how his high queen had her positioned on Tamlin’s lap. Her legs spread by his thighs, her back pressed against his chest. The Princess placed her hand over the Lord of Spring and Eris noticed his thumb moved over hers and began swiping periodically. As if he was trying to bring her comfort. The heir of Autumn knew those two were friends just never realized how close the pair was.

The red-haired male moved his gaze to the rest of the ballroom, fighting the urge to clench his fist, he caught his brother’s attention. His russet eyes met with a similar pair of Lucien, his metal eye zeroing in on him. The young Emissary of the spring court’s face was impassive though his eyes, held pure resentment. Lucien didn’t let his stare linger on his brother rather it moved to his two friends at the front of the room. Guilt threatened to take hold, but the eldest Vanserra brother forced it down in a box where he kept most of his emotions shutting the lid tight. Another person that he had let down.

“Estella, darling be a dear and entertain us.” Amarantha’s voice drew Eris his attention back to the princess of night. “Dance.”

Estella froze, “Your Majesty?”

Amarantha pinched her chin, “I said dance, has whoring you around my court made you dumb.” Eris gripped the side of his leg tightly as he glanced over to the High Lord of Night, his tanned face a mask of cool indifference, Eris gazed lowered to Rhysand’s hands to find his knuckles were white as a result of gripping the arms of his chair tightly.

“No, Your Majesty,” Estella responded. “Or perhaps you would prefer to give a dance to one person.”

Rhysand cleared his throat, “Your majesty, I would be-“

Amarantha whipped her head, “No.” She looked out to the assembly in the hall. “I will accept volunteers from anyone that is not related to her.”

Eris’s feet moved of his own accord and managed to reach the dais before Lucien could. As he bowed lowed, “Your majesty. Though I have no need for a dance, I would be honored.”

Amarantha’s voice had a jovial lilt to it, “Ah Eris Vanserra. Yes, you have my permission to use her, however, you please. Rise. Claim your whore.”

Eris rose to his full height and walked up to the young heiress. He held out a hand for her, “Come now, Viper.” Estella curled her mouth in a small snarl, though her eyes were vacant, hallow as if she mentally went somewhere else. Though she gripped his hand all the same. He yanked her off Tamlin’s lap and pressed her chest to his. His arm snaked around her waist, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of her hip. Electricity bolted up his arm at the contact though he easily ignored it.

“Estella, how do you thank Eris, for claiming you this evening.” Amarantha prodded; Eris didn’t miss her face contorted in a grimace. Before she looked up her ice blue eyes meeting his warm copper ones, life had returned to her, but Eris could feel her dread, it emulated around her like a shield. Though that didn’t stop her from lifting her hand sliding it up the red velvet embroidered vest he was wearing. Or when her soft, gentle fingers slid up his neck and through the silken strands of his long hair.

She rose on her tippy toes her plump lips inches away from his own, “Thank you, Prince Eris,” Estella closed the distance kissed him. Eris slid his hand up her back, lightly grazing her spine as his hand wrapped around her raven-colored locks and yanked her back hard enough to cause a gasp from the princess’ mouth, giving the Autumn Court Heir access to slide his tongue against her. She tasted as sweet as he hoped she would. His tongue clashing with hers he could have sworn a small moan escaped her throat.

The need for oxygen and knowing that the two had put on enough of a show for their audience, Eris pulled away, with a smirk as Estella opened her eyes her pupils blissed out from their moment. Before he could ask, Amarantha, was waving her hand, “Eris you and your pet are dismissed for the evening.”

Eris bowed, and Estella followed suit, aware that it would expose her backside to the fae standing behind them. Eris placed a hand on the small of her back and led her out into the hall. The two had walked down for a few moments the sound of Estella’s skirt swishing against her skin, her hands clasped in front of her, when she asked, “What do you plan on doing with me, Princeling?”

Exhaustion weighed heavily on the prince’s body, as he sighed, “Sleep, My Little Viper. We’re going to sleep.”

This Love Is Difficult, But It's Real

The whole court ogled around and watched as the High Lords of Prythian dropped a kernel of power on the human girl that saved them all. Eris Vanserra on the other hand watched as his brother held onto the Princess of Night as her sobs softened. He could see Lucien whispering in her ear though from where he stood even his fae hearing wouldn’t be able to decipher. Ignoring the spectacle Eris walked over to one his handmaidens.

She bowed when he approached, saying nothing, he gripped the plump woman’s sleeve and began wiping the blood of the Tiara he grabbed. Once he was satisfied, he turned and walked over to Lucien and Estella. The youngest Vanserra son tightened his hold on Estella when Eris approached. “Relax, brother, today is a joyous day. We can put aside our differences for now.” Lucien growled, “Feel free to hate me again tomorrow.”

Estella’s eyes pierced the Autumn Prince’s and Eris presents the tiara glancing down at the lace covered bodice of her dress that dipped down to her stomach, “I believe this belongs to you, Little Viper.”  He smirked as he met her eyes again. She glanced at his hands and reached out to grab the accessory from him, tearing herself from Lucien’s arms as she did so. Eris took a step back and dangled the tiara above her head, “Allow me.” He motions for his index finger to spin around. She obeyed and crossed her arms, the dark red silk of her dress swirling as she did. Her scent of Ocean mist and Jasmine invaded his nose he fought the notion to bask in her scent, as he placed the tiara on top of her head. Stepped closer and noticed the sharp breath she took as his nose brushed against her ear, “There now you look fit to rule a kingdom, Princess.”

He could hear her heartrate quicken as he took a step away and once more as cheers erupted through the cave. The three of them turned to find Feyre embraced in Tamlin’s arms, ears pointed heartbeat strong and steady. “By the Cauldron.” Lucien whispered and ran up to his friends. Leaving the two alone.

“I have to thank you, Princeling.” Estella’s voice broke the tension.

“For?”

“Giving me brief little moments of reprieve from this nightmare.” Her piercing eyes met his, “I am in your debt.”

Eris was about to dispute it when in a flash arm wrapped around Estella pulling her into a tight embrace, had he not seen the matching raven-colored hair, the heir of Autumn would have prepared for an attack. Rhysand pulled away as if remembering where he had put his hands in his pockets assessed his sister. “Are you hurt?”

Estella turned to Eris only to find he was already gone. She sighed and looked back at her brother. “I’m fine, Rhys.”

He nodded and, in her mind said, The High Lords are meeting to figure out the next steps. I don’t know how long that will take. Then out loud he said, “As your High Lord, I’m demanding you head home immediately and make sure our court held up in our absence.” Estella noticed the hint of a smirk on his face, Tell Cassian hello for me, and that I’ll be home soon.

Estella’s face lit up, she kissed her brother on the cheek, “Thank you, High Lord.” She took a step, looked back toward Lucien and Tamlin. Both males embracing Feyre. Green eyes met hers and with a dip of his chin she bolted and winnowed home.

I’ll Be Waiting

The Summer night breeze kissed her skin as she arrived in front of the town home. Home. She was home. Picking up her skirts she bolted through the front door of the town home. She could hear laughter in the dining room pause when the door slammed shut. Before anyone could get up, she ran into the room. Gasp and fallen utensils were the only thing she heard before, Morrigan her hair in perfect waves and dressed in her signature red gown rose from her seat, her eyes turning glassy. “So, it’s true? It’s over?” She asked.

Estella wiped the stray tears that had begun to fall, “Yeah. Its over.” She croaked as Mor pulled her into a bone crushing hug. “Fuck, I have missed you guys.”

A pair of scarred calloused hands tugged at her bare shoulders, “Don’t hog her, Mor.” Azriel’s deep voice joked as he pulled her into an embrace of his own. He pulled away and she felt the cool kiss of his shadows up and around her body, checking for injuries. He pressed his forehead to hers, “Its good to have your home.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and guided her to a chair. He began to make her a plate of food, as he asked, “Where’s Rhys?”

Estella eyes grew wide with the spread Azriel placed before her. Taking a heaping bite before she answered, she couldn’t help but moan as the warm food met her mouth. The bountiful flavor bursting on her tongue. She looked at Mor, and Az as she swallowed her food and said, “He said there would be a meeting with the High Lord’s about what is going to happen next, no doubt trying to get Amarantha’s” She fought the cringe at the sound of the female’s name coming out of her mouth, “men collected and figuring out what to do with them.”

Amren’s cold calculating voice was a welcome reprieve, “Why didn’t you stay with him?”

Estella turned her head to the female and smiled, “He wanted me to come home, let you know he would be back soon.” Estella, smiled and looked at the table, acutely aware of the empty missing, “Where is he?”

Azriel gave her a warm smile and placed his hand on top of her own his hazel eyes ablaze with warmth and happiness, “He went to the Illyrian camps a few weeks ago. He has been spending a lot of time up there to personally train his soldiers.  He says its to make sure they have the best training we can offer.”

Estella felt guilt bubble in her stomach, “But?”

Azriel’s face fell slightly, his shadows curling around him as a form of comfort, “He had been struggling staying in Velaris for too long. It Reminded him of you and the future you two were planning. He missed you.”

“We all did, Girl.” Amren corrected. Estella’s blue eyes met her swirling silver ones, “Don’t look so surprised. Your quick wit against these overgrown bats was impressive. It was nice to not be the only one with a silver tongue.”

Estella blinked; she couldn’t remember a time when Amren had outwardly complimented her. Though she wasn’t about to question the tiny one’s motives, she went back to shoveling food in her mouth. She went for seconds and cleaned that plate too, Azriel grabbed her plate when she attempted to go for more, “Pace yourself, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“The food was awful down there.” If she got any that was. She didn’t miss the concerned glances from her friends when she arrived. She hadn’t looked in a mirror in 50 years and she was afraid to, terrified at what her reflection might reveal. How badly Amarantha’s abuse taken a toll on her physically as it had emotionally.  Estella met Azriel’s gaze and he gave her a smile, kissing the side of her head. Estella cleared her throat, “Um, I am going to go upstairs and wash up.”

Mor gave her a warm smile, one she never thought she would see again, “Your room has not been touched, your clothes have been routinely cleaned.”

Estella rubbed her chest and the base of her throat fighting the emotion threatening to come up. “Thank you.” 

Azriel cupped her cheek. Stroking his thumb against her cheek, “Welcome home, Princess.”

She wrapped her arms around Az and squeezed him tightly. “I missed you. I never thought I would see you again.”

“Likewise.” He pressed his hand on the back of her head holding her close. “Fuck.” She pulled away at the Shadow  Singer’s expletive and saw that his eyes lined with silver. “I’m just..” He took a deep breath, “I’m just happy to see you.”

“Me too, Az. I missed your face.” He laughed wiping his eyes, as she looked to all three of her friends, “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you.” The two females rose from their seats and as if they were reading each other’s thoughts smothered the young female into a tight embrace, where she let her tears flow freely.

Home. She was finally, Home.

On The Balcony In Summer Air

The cool night air kissed Estella's skin for the first time in fifty years as she leaned against the balcony the silk of her red night gown doing nothing to prevent the chill, but the female couldn’t bring herself to care. Looking up at the night sky. She couldn't help but smile as tears pickled her pale blue eyes. This is what it felt like:

To be free

"Hello, Sweetheart." The low timbre of a familiar voice elicited a sob to escape her throat. Turning from the view of the city, she met glassy hazel eyes, bruises darkening his tanned skin under them. His wings were tucked back, but his siphons glowed.

She gave him a watery smile, "Hello, General." She covered her mouth to stifle the sobbed. Not being able to contain herself, she leaped into his awaiting arms and legs wrapping around his waist. Burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Cassian's arm held her up by her waist, his free hand pressing the back of her head holding her close, tears streaming down his own face. Estella pulled away and pressed her lips to his.

Cassian pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, "Welcome home, Estella." And his lips reattached to hers as he took her to their shared bed. Plopping her down on the bed his hazel eyes met her blue ones he swiped a strand of hair from her face.

She cupped her hands against his face, and took a moment to look at him, his eyes had dark circles under them, as if he hadn’t had a good night’s rest in the last fifty years. He had grown out a beard the scruff rough against her skin. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”  She whispered.

Cassian cupped his hand against her cheek, tears spilling down his face. “I’m thinking that you are just as beautiful as the last time I saw you.” He kissed her forehead, “I’m thinking that I can’t believe that you are right here in my arms.” She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I’m thinking…” He took a deep breath, and she opened her eyes. “I’m thinking, how I never thought I would see you again. And yet here you are.”

Estella smiled, “Here I am.” She took his hand and placed it over her heart and he closed his eyes as he felt its steady beat. “Cassian, not a day went by where I didn’t wish to be with you. To be in your arms.” Tears threatened to fall but she forced it down. “I missed you so much.”

Cassian shushed her and placed his lips on to hers in a gentle kiss, “It’s okay, Sweetheart, I know. I missed you. More than you could ever know.” He kissed her again, “And just so we’re clear when your brother comes home. I am beating the shit out of him.”

“Cass?”

“Hmm?” He smirked.

She gripped the collar of his leathers and pulled him closer to him, he growled in approval as she whispered on his lips, “Do not talk say my brother’s name while you’re in my bed.” And she clashed her lips onto his.

Estella ran her fingers through Cassian’s curls as the General was fast asleep on his stomach.  Sliding out of her bed, she opened the drawer of her nightstand, grabbed a piece of parchment, and walked back out onto her balcony. Looking back once more she made sure that Cassian remained asleep as she turned back to the parchment in her hands. Opening the parchment thinking about the author of the note.

Estella awoke back in her cell. The memory of Autumn leaves and cinnamon returning to her.  She adjusted to a sitting position her brows furrowing as she felt something in her palm. Opening the note, her breath quickened as bile threatened to rise as the question, she asked the night before came to the forefront of her mind:

“Then what do you want with me, Princeling?”

One sentence gave her his answer in perfectly neat handwriting.

I want you, My Little Viper.

Estella folded the paper and threw it on the opposite side of the cell. Pulling her knees up to her chest she had to question just how far the Prince of Autumn would go to get what he wants.

Estella sighed, staring down at the swirls of Eris’ handwriting, questions swirling in her mind.  As if she summoned him with her thoughts; a note appeared in front of her. Grabbing the parchment, she unfolded it.

Will you ever truly be free, Little Viper?

Estella glared at the parchment hoping it would erupt into flames. Folding both notes, she walked into her room, placed the notes in her nightstand, and went back to bed. The General of the Night Court’s armies arm pulling her against his chest. Though luscious red hair and russet eyes plagued her dreams.

You’ll Be The Prince and I’ll Be the Princess

After fifty long years Eris, stepped into the familiar room of orange, red and gold hues of his study. Twelve heads perked up as they saw Eris step in. The familiar dark eyes of his hounds perked up and all of them ran to their owner’s side. He bent down on a knee and allowed each of them a total of one lick per dog. Unable to fight the smile from his features of reuniting with his companions. “Hello dear Friends. I have missed you dearly.”   They all swished their tails at the sound of their master’s voice.

Home after Amarantha’s fall, the High Lords met for two days in a row and after sitting in a room with massive egos, it was nice to return home to the quiet of his study.  He walked over to his desk the mountain of paperwork there. He sighed and leaned against his chair closing his eyes, only for the ice blue eyes and raven-black hair plagued his brain. He pressed his hands to his eyes and groaned.

He sat up and removed his hands from his eyes, as an idea began to form. Opening his drawer to find his favorite quill and ink pots right where he left them. Pulling them out along with the stack of parchment. Eris began to write, as soft pink lips and the scent of Ocean Mist and Jasmine lingered in his mind as his quill began swirling across the parchment:

My Sweet Little Viper. My Beautiful Mate.

It’s A Love Story, Baby, Just Say Yes

To Be Continued...

Story tags: @milswrites @eve175 @melsunshine @believinghurts @awkardnerd @historygeekqueen @mischiefmanagers @mybestfriendmademe @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @glitterypirateduck @littlestw01f @mal-adaptive-dreams @lilah-asteria @hellodarling1357 @shadowdaddies @bxm-1012 @inkyvelvet @chasing-autumns-chill @ghostwritermia @esposadomd @anuttellaa @slytherintaco @marigold-morelli @saltedcoffeescotch

If I missed someone please let me know!

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #cassian imagine #eris imagine #eris x oc #eris x reader #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra #eris acosf #eris acotar

[strawbeerossi]

Heartless

Pairing: Unsub!Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Part Description: With an old foe breaking out of prison, there are complications when Y/N is left alone with them, exposing her secret to Spencer about just who she is.

Content Warnings: Coarse language, there’s spoilers for season 12 and prison Reid, mentions of drugging, mentions of death, use of a knife, use of a gun, violence, death.

Word Count: 4.4K

Part one || Part two || Part three

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Confusion had set in the minute that Y/N had gotten to Spencer’s car, watching the clumsy man nearly trip over his own two feet as he was pulling open the passenger side door, his tender touch against her lower back as he was so lovingly nudging her so she’d get in the car. “I thought you said this killer killed men. Why am I going to the office? Her MO isn’t women.” She tried, her boyfriend’s head shaking.

“Just listen to me!” Spencer snapped, bringing his hands to his hair while drawing in a breath. Trying to compose the very overwhelming emotions that seemed to be taking control. After prison, Spencer became more irritable. It was harder for him to control his emotions, he had major tunnel vision, and he was in a post traumatic stress state that wouldn’t ever leave him. Sure, things got better, in spurts. Therapy did so much for him, his girlfriend could only do so much, it was like his mind was against him.

“We need to get to the office now, okay? I promise you that I will explain everything in vivid detail but I need you in the fucking car! You’re gonna get hurt and I can’t lose someone else. Please just get in the car..” Watching Spencer panic and grow fearful was enough to make Y/N’s heart shatter. Her poor baby. In order to fulfill the man’s wishes, she was pressing a soft kiss against his cheek before climbing into the car, the seatbelt being snapped into place as soon as she was settled. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

Who the fuck was trying to take Y/N’s position? To claim all her hard work as their own? There was no doubt those men, no, those dirty pigs deserved to die. However, she was the one doing it. She was delivering justice to women who were failed by the system, by the courts, even by their spouses. What she did was vigilantism, doing what the law couldn’t. Even if her boyfriend was part of that same very law and would look down upon her choices. She had to keep it under the radar. She knew what would happen if her boyfriend was to find out.

She’d have to kill him.

It was almost a little laughable how naive Spencer was with the whole situation with his girlfriend, the way she would come over at all hours of the night, the way she’d always be tightly wound up. However, working in customer service for all shifts was a good excuse for that.

Spencer, the genius FBI profiler who had so much under his belt, had no idea he was in bed with a woman who he wanted to strangle. She’d like to think that he loved her, that he was overlooking everything just because he found solace in her arms. It was something that he told her, saying he needed her, that she made him sane after all the hell that he’d been put through.

Deep down, she knew that he was one of the good ones. The ones who deserved a loving relationship, a woman willing to take care of him, willing to deal with the long nights, days, even weeks when Spencer was off on a case. That was why she was there. To give a man who was the most deserving of love the very thing that he craved, needed. It wasn’t even just the sex that kept her there. It was that studious, lovable dork who always had so much to say, so much to teach her.

“There’s this woman, a woman who has been messing with me for years. I outsmarted her.” Spencer answered, one hand coming up to rub his right eye, the tunnel vision setting in as he was growing more overwhelmed. “Cat Adams. She-“ He let out a low sigh. “She drugged me, she framed me for murder, had me incarcerated, she.. She..” He was taking in a shaky breath while Y/N was reaching over to let her hand rest on his upper arm.

“You don’t have to say it right now, okay? I promise that it’s alright. I’m here for you.” Y/N assured her boyfriend, a weak smile on her face. Oh, she was gonna kill this bitch, for sure. She felt like this was going to be a bigger fight than it needed to be. Way too big.

Spencer was pulling in the parking garage soon after that, sitting in a deafening silence while he tried collecting himself the best that he could. He had to think clearly. Not only was he at risk but his girlfriend was too. Cat had so many people to do her dirty work outside of prison, he knew that. This was her handiwork. He didn't know how he didn't see it before.

Cat made the most sense. She was a 'Black Widow' killer. She used her seduction and charm to lure men in. She saw all men as threats, considered them all as evil and dark as the next. She never spared a thought for most of them. Spencer though.. Oh, Cat was infatuated. He was the only man to ever outsmart her, to arrest her while winning the game that she rigged against him. That woman wouldn't ever leave him alone, not until she was dead.

Being locked in a maximum security prison didn't deter her. Instead, it fueled her. It drove her to dig up every piece on Spencer that she possibly could. Hell, she had him drugged and imprisoned all the while blaming Mr. Scratch.

Emily Prentiss, the unit chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, was the one who greeted Spencer and Y/N by the elevator. "I'm glad you could make it. I know you've been busy with your personal investigation." She hummed, turning her attention to Y/N. "I had a suspicion our beloved Dr. Reid had a secret girlfriend." She joked, holding a hand out. "I'm Emily."

Y/N did her research on the BAU leader. She was strong willed, determined, and loyal to her work family. However, the mommy and daddy issues were apparent in her work ethic. The way she took on a more demanding tone, the way she looked at Y/N with that hint of mistrust. It was enough to make the other woman almost respect her. Emily was definitely going to make things difficult if she didn't play things smart.

The leader gets suspicious, and the team turns against her. No thanks.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." Y/N greeted, a smile gracing her features while her hand was reaching out to hold Emily's, the two shaking hands before their hands were falling back to their usual places.

"Spencer. If you wouldn't mind taking Y/N somewhere she can get comfortable, everyone else is waiting on us." Straight to business.

"I know it's not really work appropriate," Spencer began, his gaze falling on his girlfriend before he was taking her hand. "I'd really appreciate it if she came in too. She's been my rock throughout all of this and I don't think I can even talk about.." He paused briefly, making Emily look at Y/N before letting out a sigh.

"Alright. If you would feel more comfortable with her there, she can sit in. However," Now her attention was on Y/N. "I don't know what Spencer has told you but this is a violent case. We are going to be talking about a lot of dark subject matters." She spoke, a warning to the very woman who was behind every single murder except the most recent one.

"I understand. I think that I can handle it. If I can't, I'll quietly excuse myself." Her tone was soft as she offered a gentle smile.

Following close behind her boyfriend and his boss, Y/N was looking around the bullpen. There was a lot of structure and order, yet a hint of chaos judging by the piles of files and other papers on certain desks. She could already guess which one was Spencer's, which made her smile.

Inside the conference room though, the talking was coming to a halt when a new woman was stepping in the room, hand tucked in Spencer's.

There was a blonde woman that was speaking up first, a wide smile on her face. "Who is this?!" She asked, the case at hand almost being forgotten by the woman with purple framed glasses, a dress that was littered with unicorns amongst other fantasy style items. She didn't look like someone who would willingly choose this career, seeming very overjoyed and kind, too kind for the world.

"I'm Y/N. You must be Penelope." Y/N spoke up, the woman perking up even more if it was possible. "You've been talking about me!" She laughed, putting her hands together. "Is this your girlfriend? Oh! Spencer she's so-"

"Garcia."

Emily's voice was bringing the woman back to the heavy reality of the situation, making her smile fall as she nodded. "Sorry, sorry. Um," She began while grabbing the remote on the table. "We have Matthew Thornton." She began, clicking a button on the remote to pull up the crime scene.

Whoever was trying to take Y/N's thunder didn't even do it right. They stabbed the body about seventy times, which was far too much work for her to even attempt. Besides that, she'd never think to leave behind a note taunting anyone. However, this wasn't her. With the way she could feel her boyfriend tense up, she knew this was the work of the woman he told her about in the car.

"She ended up being a part of a well coordinated prison break." Tara was speaking up, her gaze looking over the files in hand while frowning. "How did the guards not notice?" She asked while Matt was looking over at the woman's direction. "Guards were in on it. It doesn't help that some of those same guards were killed while on their shift once the break happened and their clothes were stolen. Makes it easy to scan an ID and open the doors for everyone."

"So, wait," Y/N interjected herself into the conversation, however nobody seemed against her speaking her thoughts out. "With the break and how it flew under the radar for so long, do we know how long they've been out?" She asked, her eyebrows raising in curiosity. Maybe blaming this on Cat Adams could potentially get her fully off the suspect list.

"According to reports, this went on months ago." David responded, making Luke nod. "Meaning, Cat has been fighting for Spencer's attention in the only way she could. It looks like the killings led up to Spencer's apartment at one point but they stopped, now they are back on track."

Oh. Blessing in disguise maybe?

"What do we know?" Spencer finally broke his silence, his hand reaching over for one of the files before he was opening it, although it was almost like he had it to where Y/N could see too. Was she unknowingly getting signed up to help?

"She was seen in a convenience store security footage." Penelope answered, quickly pulling up the files. As they went through the footage a couple times, the blonde was pausing it on Cat's face. There was no doubt about it being her. Why was she playing the long game though? When Y/N found someone she wanted dead, she got on with it. There wasn't any doubt going through her mind.

"She's taunting us. We could be walking directly into a trap." Emily pointed out the obvious, her hands resting against the tabletop while keeping a sharp eye on the screen ahead of her. "I think it's time for us to go off of our leads. Garcia, send us coordinates for her last known locations. Judging by how recent this footage is, she's close. I’m pairing all of us off. We need to play this safe.”

Emily just didn't know how close Cat really was.

◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆

Cat had successfully evaded police capture for months now, keeping her eyes on one specific person. She saw Y/N approach Spencer in a bar a few months ago, getting cozy with him before going back to his apartment. So.. Cat did what she did best, digging.

She followed Y/N around on her nights of leisure, watching her use her intoxicating voice and seduction to lure unsuspecting men back to shitty motels and other discreet places just to kill them. Yet, after all that, she’d made sure to not leave a trace of evidence behind before she left.

Going straight home to her boyfriend, an FBI agent who would no doubt kill her if she found out.

That was when Cat decided to make her escape known, attracting the attention of the BAU in order to throw this woman under the bus. Cat’s obsession with Spencer knew absolutely no bounds. She would do what she could to make him suffer, all the while managing to keep him all to herself.

He didn’t deserve to be happy. No, he deserved to be with someone who was meant for him. She knew from the moment she met Spencer that he was an evil person, harboring a dark side that only she had managed to bring out after being part of completely breaking him down, making him crumble into a form of himself that he would never fully recognize.

She knew they’d be catching on soon. The BAU never disappointed her, she was going to one place where they wouldn’t be looking. In fact, it was the place where Y/N was sent after Emily was making the woman leave due to the fact that no normal civilian needed to be part of this. Spencer was against the idea entirely but at the promise of an agent going to guard his girlfriend, he had to deflate and accept she needed to go home, where she was safe.

So, as she was being ushered home by some big agent to keep her safe, Y/N could help but frown. They thought she needed a man to protect her?? She knew what she was doing. If Cat even showed up on her radar, it’d be easy to kill her. No guard would be able to hold her back either. She’d pieced together every horrible thing that Cat coordinated against Spencer, the way she pulled the strings in an elaborate plan to completely break him.

There was going to be a long, painful death in store for the notorious escaped convict, that was all she knew.

“You don’t have to be here you know.” Y/N murmured to the man beside her, her hand reaching in her purse so she could unlock her front door. “Sorry, ma’am. Orders.” He wasn’t gonna let up. It was enough to get under her skin, wanting to grab her blade tucked away in her bag and slit his throat. However, she wasn’t going to fully incriminate herself after seemingly getting away with murder.

As soon as the door was unlocked, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Thankfully, the man outside would just be standing guard, which was a shitty decision if Cat was as good as they said she was.

Y/N had gotten her shoes off before heading to her kitchen, flipping on the light before raising an eyebrow as she saw Cat Adams, the woman the whole team was looking for, at her kitchen table. She had a folder resting on the table, labeled for Spencer. “You’re home! Thank god, I was worried I’d have to go find you!”

“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment? How did you get into my apartment?”

“I have my ways! Now, why don’t you sit down?”

The way that this woman was talking to her had Y/N rolling her eyes. “I think I’m gonna have to ask you to leave before I shove a knife in your throat. I mean, it would be self defense, after all. You broke into my home, you’re a convicted murderer.”

“Ah. You’re a murderer too though.” Cat stated, opening the file in front of her to reveal the prints linking Y/N with each victim. The same bar where she met Spencer, the same drink, the same body language. “I mean.. This is plenty of evidence. The cameras may not work there but people have their eyes open. Always. I know so many people around here, you’d be surprised.”

Cat didn’t give Y/N time to ask any questions. “Now, what I wanna know is, what are you doing with Spencer Reid? Your whole crusade is to kill men who have gotten away with violence against their partners and/or their children. Men who are violent, harboring dark thoughts and using their strength to either take life away, or to try and end it.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with Spencer.”

“You don’t? You do know that Spencer murdered a woman, correct? In cold blood, might I add. She was trying to help him and he returned the favor by stabbing her to death.”

“Because you drugged him, Cat. I’m not fucking stupid, I’ve already been made aware.”

“Were you aware that after his release from prison, he came to visit me? He had to talk with me about my involvement, which I’m sure you know that I had his precious mommy under my lock and key. Do you know what he did to me? What he said?”

There was silence from Y/N’s end. That was something she hadn’t heard yet.

“You see, I was pregnant in prison. Spencer had come to question me, asking me all sorts of bullshit questions. So I answered. He got impatient with me. Started yelling, threw a table out of the way, and slammed me against a brick wall. He was going to choke me to death, Y/N. I had bruises for months after that. I even miscarried. If JJ hadn’t been there, I would’ve been dead.” The story wasn’t as tragic as Cat believed it to be. She deserved it.

“You fight for women and children who have been fucked over by the crooked structure of law enforcement. The same law enforcement that your sweet boyfriend is a part of. Killing all of those men was a waste of time. If you truly cared about those people who you claim to be fighting for, Spencer would’ve been dead a long time ago. I respected your choices leading up to that moment. The moment that you grew weak. The moment you betrayed every single thing you were fighting for.”

As if right on cue though, there was the sound of banging right outside the front door, Spencer’s voice being muffled by the front door as he called out to his girlfriend. He willingly sent her home, thinking she’d be safe. All the while, Cat left plenty of clues as to where she was. “Right on time! I knew Spencie wouldn’t fail me.” She grinned.

“Go be a good girl and unlock the door. I think you and him need to have a long talk about what you did.” She spoke, leaning back in her chair while nodding towards the front door, where Spencer was still yelling for his girlfriend. If she didn’t open the door soon, he’d have to pull a Derek and kick the wooden door clean off its hinges.

This was where Y/N’s heart fell into her stomach. Realization was setting in. Spencer was going to know. He was going to see the incriminating bullshit that Cat had in front of her. Everything was going to fall down to Y/N killing Spencer. This was what Cat needed her for. What she used her for.

She quietly approached the front door, unlocking each individual lock before pulling it open. “Oh thank god!” Spencer croaked, his arms wrapped tightly around his girlfriend while he held her flush against his chest. The comfort of knowing she was okay was enough to have him sobbing in her arms, unaware of what darkness was looming in the kitchen. “She’s on the way here.” He spoke, him against her shoulder while his eyes were closed.

The moment was gone in an instant. “I’m already here, Spencie. It’s so nice to see you again. I bet that you thought you were doing justice here,” Cat smirked, body leaning against the kitchen archway as she let an eyebrow raise. “I suggest you come inside, sit with us in the kitchen. We both have a lot to discuss with you.” She began, causing the couple to break apart from the hug as Y/N grabbed her boyfriend’s hand. “Come on.” She whispered, tears rolling down her pale cheeks as she led him into the kitchen.

“Now, I think you guys should recruit me into the fbi. Because I solved this case for you!” Cat grinned, pushing the closed file to Spencer. “Your killer, the one you’ve been searching for, has been right under your nose this whole time. It’s not even me!” She had a wicked smile on her face. This was another shot to Spencer’s heart, making him go through pain all over again. As long as she was alive, Spencer wouldn’t ever escape her.

You could hear a pin drop the minute that Spencer opened the file, his eyes staring at the pictures inside while his mouth ran dry. That was Y/N. His girlfriend. With the men who were murdered, the same bar they met in and everything.

“What the fuck is this?” There was anger in his voice, betrayal. “You’ve let me nearly kill myself from lack of sleep and bringing me to near heart attack level because of you?!” The venom in his voice had Y/N flinching upon impact, her eyes squeezing shut. “You don’t understand-“ She began, though it wasn’t long before Spencer was throwing the file down and standing.

“Was I another victim?! Were you playing the fucking long game with me? You wanted to catch me fully off guard?” He growled, the woman being backed up to the wall. Y/N felt powerless, her heart beating out of her chest as the man she loved was towering over her, keeping her trapped between himself and the wall.

However, once his back was to Cat, it was almost like something else flashed in his eyes. There was anger but now there was something else. Encouragement? She didn’t think much about it until Spencer was reaching over to take a knife out of the knife block, holding it out to his girlfriend. “Do it then. Go for it.” He growled, though there wasn’t fear behind his eyes. No.. There was a fucking smirk on his face, egging her on to make a move.

Y/N was slowly taking the knife once Spencer backed up, this time sitting in a chair. There were a few moments of silence while Y/N was looking at her reflection within the blade of the knife, something ticking inside of her. Something she’d been waiting to act on for a while. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, looking over at her boyfriend who seemed unbothered. “I don’t wanna fucking hear it. Just hurry up. We don’t have much time.” 

The way she was encouraged made her face Cat, then everything went black.

The first thing she did was charge the other woman, knocking her out of the chair. The air was thick with adrenaline as the woman was wrestling the other to the ground. This was a long time coming. However, cat put up one hell of a fight, the woman ending up getting a good hit on Y/N and knocking her to the ground, which had Cat be the knife wielder.

As the woman was climbing on top of the other, she was pushing the knife deep into Y/N’s shoulder, the woman letting out a loud cry. “You’re pathetic, you know that? All that promise? All that strength. He was going to take it away from you anyway. You never loved him and he never loved-“

BANG

Blood was splattered all over Y/N’s face, the sound of a gunshot echoing through the apartment. The deadweight of Cat falling on top of her was enough to shock her. Did Spencer just.. There were a few moments where Y/N used the adrenaline coursing through her veins to shove the dead weight off of her.

“How dumb do you think I am?” Spencer asked after a moment, using a lighter to light up the incriminating evidence in the sink to let the pictures burn completely. “I’ve known the whole fucking time. You’re not exactly subtle. Be real. I was in that bar on a stakeout.” He continued on while looking back at Y/N.

“I was supposed to go in, do my job, and get out. However, you sat beside me. The way you were talking to me, touching me, and your body language gave you up immediately. However.. Against my better judgment, I had some sort of trust in you. I took you home with me.” He began while turning on the water to put out the fire from the burning evidence before grabbing the unidentifiable pictures and throwing them in the trash.

“I fell in love with you. Even if you didn’t deserve that love. Quite frankly, you still don’t.” He was taking off the purple scarf around his neck, wrapping it around her bleeding wound while he was moving to grab his microphone, putting a finger up. “Prentiss, send up medics. Cat’s down and Y/N is wounded.” He sent off the message while letting his arms cross as he looked over his girlfriend.

“I’m not gonna say a word about any of this. I told you that I refuse to lose you and I mean that. You’re not going to be locked up in a jail cell the rest of your life or mine. But you have to promise me that you’re not gonna fuck around and keep doing this bullshit. I mean it, if I feel like you are killing anyone else..” He was grabbing her chin by making her look up at him.

“I’ll kill you myself. Now, go get stitched up before you bleed out.” There was a soft kiss pressed against her lips while he was standing straight again, walking out of the apartment to greet the other team members downstairs.

He left Y/N to stand there, mostly in shock.

What the fuck just happened?

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[onlyinyourdreams404]

Tragedies. . . 🩹 König x M!Reader

word count: 1.4k

CW: talk of death, alcohol mentioned, reader is 20, then 21. (i don’t do angst much, but this is more of a “this happened to me” thing, so im more of ranting, so please let me know how i did with this🙏🏻 LOVE YOU GUYS! tysm for all the love on my last post!)

summary: reader lost his mother at the young age of 17. grief is hard to overcome, but when you have someone to be there for you when you need it, i guess it isn’t so bad.

|grief| |grēf|

Noun

-deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death.

some days seemed easier than others. well when you lose a mother at 17, the years seem to go so fast but days, seem endless. for (y/n), nothing seems meaningful. after losing his mother just 21 days after he turned 17, he hasn’t had a meaning to life. he barely scrapped by in school until he graduated. he grew up telling his mom that he was worried she was not gonna be there for his graduation. she used to reassure him that she would, she wouldn’t miss it for the world. so when she passed, he found every reason to graduate just for her. after graduating, he didn’t know what to do with his life, joining the military was the only option left, it has kept him sane and busy.

könig had not really talked to him other than the interview for the position in kortac, they need another man since the last one had been KIA. könig read (y/n)’s file, seeing the man’s grades questioning if this was a good idea, until he actually met the guy, who turned out to be a very good fit for kortac, very stoic, and kept to himself, but seemed nice. (y/n) ended up getting into kortac, since they needed a sniper. (y/n) had been excited to be the new sniper, since he could sit still, and his stats showed he was capable.

after weeks of training, he was ready for the next mission. he was assigned this position with könig. all (y/n) had to do was kill anybody könig didn’t see while he was searching the building for information. while being helicoptered to their destination, (y/n) had picked up the habit of listening to “lose yourself” by eminem before anything he had to do to hype himself up, to get in the mindset, just like his mom did. könig watches (y/n) with a close eye as he bobbed his head ever so slightly listening to the song. könig found it strange, but i guess everyone has their quirks.

they get to their destination and (y/n) sets up his spot while könig goes down to the building there the information is. (y/n) radios in first on the comms; “can ya hear me sir?” he says looking through his scope, finding könig easily, then switching to different windows to watch the enemies. “ja loud and clear Soldat” he says quietly into his comms his accent apparent over the comms. (y/n) nods, “good thing sir.” (y/n) adjusts himself slightly to get comfortable, listening to the silence was a little awkward. (y/n) watches as one enemy goes down as könig takes him down easily with a knife to the guys throat. “the room to your right sir, two enemies.” (y/n) says into the comms. könig sneaks into the room and takes down one solider as (y/n) shoots the other dead center. “good shot soldat” könig says into the comms. “thank you sir.” (y/n) says back. “i know this isn’t time for small talk, but tell me more about you sir” (y/n) says, trying to cure the awkwardness. “i’ll tell you more about me later soldat, pay attention” könig responds. ‘well, there goes small talk’ (y/n) thinks to himself.

they finish up the mission, a successful mission. (y/n) meets up with könig while waiting for their helicopter. “good job sir.” he says looking up at könig. könig looks down at reader, and nods, “good job out their soldat, i’m glad to have you on my team, ja?” könig says, smiling somewhat under his mask. (y/n) looks away, fidgeting with his hands slightly while waiting for the helicopter.

“what happened to you soldat? if you don’t mind me asking. what’s with ‘lose yourself’?” könig asked, not looking away from (y/n). (y/n)’s shoulders tense slightly from the question. to avoid konig’s gaze, (y/n) doesn’t stop looking at the ground, thinking about how he should answer this question, he isn’t ready to tell könig just yet. “oh uhm, nothing really. my mom would play that song for me on the way to football games i played when i was young. she would do the same when she was in softball. more of a traditional thing between me and her i guess” he answered half honestly and half lying. könig keeps looking at (y/n) and nods, looking up to the helicopter that is approaching, “oh ok. it’s good to have a good bond with your mother. that’s a cool tradition.” he says, knowing something about that answer isn’t right, he can tell, but he won’t pressure the male. (y/n) blinks back any tears, picking at his gloves, out of anxiety. time to go back to base.

after a year of being at kortac, (y/n) starts to open up more. well, a little too much due to the alcohol, now that it’s his birthday, he wanted to spend that, at the bar. (y/n) and könig had become close friends, sharing small things from childhood. now that (y/n) was under the influence of alcohol, he didn’t care sharing what happened to his mom. “könig, remember when you wanted to know more about me?” (y/n) slurs, looking up at könig with a pink flushed face. könig, having only a drink, knowing he had to the two back to base, he looks down at the male. “ja i do. are you ok with sharing?” he asked, austrian accent apparent. (y/n) nods, looking at his glass of jack daniels, thinking for a minute. “yea ‘s fine” he slurs, trying to think of how to word it. “i’ll just get straight to it, my mom died when i was 17. 21 days after, to be exact. i was devastated. i was just starting junior year of highschool,” (y/n) stops, blinking back tears. “i always had a fear when i was little, that my own mother wouldn’t be alive during my graduation, since she was 30 years older then me, that would make her 49 when i graduated. she always told me, ‘i’ll be there, i wouldn’t miss it for the world’. you can guess how i reacted when i found out she had died, a year before i graduated. my worst fear and nightmare had come true.”

(y/n) slurs slightly, taking a drink out of his glass. he looks down at it, only to push it away and put his head down into his arms. “why did she have to leave me könig? i don’t get it. please take the drink away. i don’t want to drink when im sad.” he says desperately. he knows what will happen if he gets into the habit of drinking while sad. könig calls the bartender over to take (y/n) glass, “i don’t know kind, it wasn’t fair for you, you were only a kid” he says softly, lifting (y/n)’s head slightly to look at him. “it will be ok, you’ve got us now. your mutter would be proud.” he says smiling under his mask, his eyes crinkling slightly as he does so. (y/n) looks up at him, and smiles, and leans against könig, face a light shade of pink, “thanks könig..” (y/n) slurs, “i’m sorry” he says quietly. könig looks down at the male, head tilting slightly, “what for kind? you have nothing to apologize for” he says to the male. (y/n) wipes his eyes gently to wipe away any stray tears, “for just, dumping all of that onto you, you shouldn’t have to deal with my trauma, i’m sorry” (y/n) says, voice wavering slightly. könig puts his arm around (y/n) shoulders and brings him closer, putting the male’s head to his chest, “i’m glad you told me schatz, i’m glad to get to know you better, i’m not mad. it’s good to get things off your chest, thank you for trusting me with that information, i’ll always be here if you need a shoulder to cry on schatz, always.” he says, his thumb running circles in the males back, soothing him. (y/n) hums and puts his arms around könig, just enjoying the embrace.

maybe grief isn’t so bad when you have someone there to cry on when you need it.

#konig x male reader #konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig cod #angst with slight fluff ending #fanfic #cod x male reader #konig call of duty #könig angst

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 5

Find the series masterlist

We catch up to MW2 this chapter! But probably not the way you expect.

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, bit of reader’s history, canon events.

Eventual John Price x f!reader. When I say slow burn on this one, I mean slowwwww

Word count: 1.6k

“I hear you helped one of my men.” 

You lifted your wine glass to Kate, lounging on the couch while her wife puttered about in the kitchen. “I’m sure I’ll regret that decision sometime.”

Kate chuckled, dropping down next to you, setting her whiskey on the coffee table. “He’s grateful. Captain is, too, although he still doesn’t trust you.”

You shrugged. “Probably more sane of him not to,” you agreed, taking a sip of your wine. 

“And what does that make me?”

“A glutton for punishment.” 

Kate laughed quietly, resting her elbows on her knees as she looked at you. You knew what she saw - you were all but hiding in your clothes, over-large sweatshirt concealing as much skin as physically possible. “Been a while since you’ve been here.”

You didn’t shrink in on yourself. Because there wasn’t much more shrinking you could do before you spilled your wine or fell off the couch. “Yeah. Well.” You shrugged, looking away first. 

“The guest room is ready,” was all she said, grabbing her whiskey.

And you deflated. That would be the end of it. She wouldn’t bother you. The same as every other time you dropped in uninvited - unable to leave, inexplicably drawn back time and again, but never for long. You were always gone again before a routine could start. 

Dinner that night was easy. Too easy, the restless part of your brain whispered. It was never this easy, you needed to be careful, listen for traps–

Except no. You didn’t. Not here. Never here. You breathed deeply, letting the other two carry the conversation while you worked on turning the work part of you off, for a while. You needed to relax. 

It took until the following morning for you to relax the way you wanted. You breathed easier.  You joked with Kate. 

There were a few advantages to having someone know you. 

True to form, Kate didn’t bring up work at all. She took any work calls out of the room. You didn’t try to listen - in fact you very consciously made it so you couldn’t listen, either by humming or retreating further into the house (or outside) until you couldn’t hear her at all. 

It was an odd balance, but one the two of you had managed over the years. 

It was during one of her phone calls that you found the picture. A much younger you stood next to Kate, her arm thrown over your shoulders, your smile small and shy and so painfully young. It had been one of the first pictures taken of you.

You’d lost your copy years ago to fire. Gray’s work, you’d always suspected. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, staring at the picture, fingers trembling, before Kate stopped next to you. You didn’t need to look to know it was her. 

“You kept it.” You didn’t know what kind of tone that was. 

“I did.” Her voice was soft. She didn’t touch you, for which you were grateful. You couldn’t handle that, not right then.

“God I was young.” 

“You were.” The smile in her voice was soft, easy. “You were so surprised when I took you out to dinner.”

You choked on a laugh. “Never been to a restaurant like that before,” you agreed, remembering the mismatched tables, the jukebox in the back, the chatter and noise and life of the place. 

“I also remember you passing out on the couch when we got home.”

That went right to the heart of you, piercing you like the most accurate of knives, leaving you bleeding and raw. Home. You hadn’t had a home in a long time. A very long time. 

“Is that why I woke up in a blanket burrito?” you asked through the tightness of your throat. 

“You did it to yourself, kid.” Kate sounded amused. “All I did was tuck you in.”

You snorted, thick and fuzzy, the picture slightly blurry in front of you. “Surprised you display it.”

She did touch you then, a firm hand on your shoulder. “There’s always a place for you here.” The words were soft but typical Kate, no nonsense. 

You wanted to smile. You almost smiled. 

But a large part of you was screaming at you to run. 

You slipped out of the house before dawn the next morning, leaving a note for the two women closer to you than anyone else in the world. 

But you couldn’t stay, not when words like home and family whirled in your head and the itching need to go, to move, to stay safe and unattached burned down your spine. 

Kate would understand. She always did. 

Months later found you in Mexico, once again a guest of Valeria. The first day had been normal.

But the second day was… decidedly not. She left early, hissing curses, and didn’t return until later. When she did return, she looked to be on a war path.

“You have a choice here,” she told you, stopping in front of you, coiled tight with tension that threatened to bleed into you. “I will have several business associates over tonight. You can stay and be counted as one of mine, or you can leave. But if you leave, you’re on your own. I have no time to spare for you now.”

The choice was an easy one, laid out like that. “I’ll go. I’ll be fine on my own.” You smiled to take the sting out of your rejection and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Call me up when you’re free again, hm?”

Something about that, whether it was the easy affection or your confidence in her, unspooled a little of the tension in her. But she still didn’t quite smile as she nodded to you, turning and striding away, barking orders at her men. 

You went up to your room to grab your stuff, throwing things in your bag. You didn’t know exactly what had happened… But. Well. People were prone to gossiping.

And you may have overheard some gossip about a troublesome military unit, aided by a couple foreigners. What trouble exactly they were causing was uncertain, and you didn’t know what had drawn them here. 

You didn’t stick around to find out, either. 

Your ride to the airport was silent and tense, your driver not eager to talk to you. He kept his eyes on the road, a radio in one cupholder. 

You heard a little through it - something about plans, and a demand that someone be brought to El Sin Nombre that night, and the number of guards that would attend. Not enough to be anything workable, or sellable.

Not that you were selling anything at the moment. No, your first focus was on getting out of the way. 

So you headed to Washington, D.C. You had a few contacts there, and a hideaway. Figured you could do a little checking in on some people. 

That plan got thrown out the window after less than two days.

“Katie Kate,” you sighed into your phone after a quick look at the phone number. 

“I need your help.”

That… was new. Not a favor. Help. Ice slid down your spine, and you swallowed. “What is it?”

“We’ve been betrayed.” It sounded like it hurt her to admit that, and your hand clenched around your phone. “I need your help tracking down General Shepherd.”

“Uh.” Your mind blanked for a moment. “That is… dangerous business there, Kate.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t know you could handle it.”

“Kate. Are you okay?” 

She huffed. “We’re all alive,” she answered, which told you everything you needed to know. Briefly, you hoped “all” included Captain, and then you squashed that thought. You had no time for distractions. 

You sighed. “It will take some time,” you warned her, chewing on your lip. “I can’t say when I’ll have answers to give you.”

“That’s fine, just so long as you get me something.” She sounded just a little bloodthirsty. 

“I’ll let you know when I’ve got something.” You hung up, tapping your phone gently against your chin. 

How the fuck were you going to track down a general?

Well. First thing first: establish which of your contacts would be at all helpful for this. The answer to that, unfortunately, was not many. 

So you started carefully expanding, going to contacts of your contacts, sniffing around cold trails and last known associates. It was slow going, but it worked. You had no doubt that Laswell had people better suited to this kind of work, but… 

She didn’t trust them. She had been betrayed. 

She still considered you family.

Blood in your mouth made you swear, and you tongued absently at your lip. You’d bitten the inside of it and it hurt, sharp and throbbing.

That’s what you got for being an idiot.

Mildly disgusted with yourself, you went back to work. It had been a couple days already but Kate hadn’t called you again.

You were hoping that meant she was busy doing her own cleaning house and tracking, because for a general, this fucker was slippery. He’d gone to ground but good, having clearly had a place already dug out with limited access. 

So you expanded your search, finding his underlings and investigating them. 

That got… pretty harrowing, actually. And ate up a lot of your time. You were lucky to get five or six hours of undisturbed sleep, between the mounting paranoia and the constant updates from your contacts. 

Finally, though. Finally. You got a hit.

“Well, let’s see what you can tell me,” you murmured to yourself, staring at a picture on your laptop, the thrill of the work more potent than any drug through your veins. 

You had a good feeling about this one.

#waking lions #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 7, end.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

previous chapter | next

this is the end! i know i said 2 more chapters after the last, but i really couldn't stretch this into two without losing -- it is hopefully a good ending and does justice for both lyanna and aegon. only one song choice for this chapter as i feel like it encapsulates their relationship to a tee and i've been waiting to use it. even if it isn't you type of music, i'd really recommend reading the lyrics to see what i mean! thank you for following along on this journey with me, this was my first time writing aegon and again, i hope i've done him justice. i enjoyed exploring his complex character immensely and i hope you all enjoyed reading him. enjoy. ❤️ please feel free to leave any aegon requests in my inbox, this won't be the last time i write him, i promise!

word count: 2.7k

please follow & turn on notifs for @huramuna-fics for my fic postings.

content: smut (specifics below cut), canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn, infidelity, child loss

one day the only butterflies left will be in your chest as you march towards your death - bring me the horizon & amy lee

warnings: p in v

There were few things Lyanna really preferred about King’s Landing over Storm’s End– it smelled of shit and was riddled with vipers, whereas Storm’s End was full of boarish, thick skulled men with blades in place of their brains, less akin to use diplomacy to settle matters but rather their axes. 

King’s Landing diplomacy was the same in a way, except without axes and with barbed tongues, dripping venom behind each carefully placed word. It was a task in itself to keep sane with the amount of people who tried to get something from her– kissing her hands, sending her beautiful dresses, exotic fruits and honeyed words. 

‘Sign this, your grace.’

‘May I possibly have this, your grace.’

‘In exchange, your grace, please, provide us this.’

It was tiring. Soul suckingly so. Some days she felt akin to a lemon with its juices sucked out, nothing left but the skin and seeds and pulp, rotting in the sun. But, she supposed, there was one thing she did like about King’s Landing. 

The sun.

It was resplendent here, unyielding in its warmth and caress over the gentle waves of the bay, orange and yellow tinge lighting up the horizon. She awoke in the morn, scantily clad, walking to her open balcony– but not quite walking out onto the landing– and basking in the sun like a fat cat, moving with the sun as it made its journey over the sky. 

Sometimes Aegon was there, too, following along at her heels like a lost puppy. It was the norm nowadays, over eleven moons since her miscarriage, since Aegon’s confession, since his will to turn over a new leaf. Where Lyanna went, Aegon followed. She held him like a child each night, and they would curl into one another– but they had yet to couple since the miscarriage, both of them maintaining a dry spell for the better part of a year.

 It was a test, in a way, for Aegon. He had denounced spirits and whores and all manner of sinful things, hardly gracing his own chambers anymore, preferring Lyanna’s. But, Aegon was a creature of habit, and always needed something to have, to obsess over as his own. Lyanna was part of that thing, but she kept him at an arm’s length emotionally, partaking in only the need for closeness with him in their bed, skin to skin– but never anything beyond it. Soft caresses, arms held together, one tucked into the other. They didn’t exchange many words during these times, only gentle sighs and hums of contentment, or nudges of discomfort if one’s elbow was poking into the other’s ribs. 

The other thing Aegon had succumbed to was food– he replaced his daily intake of alcohol with food, and filled out quite nicely in turn. Before, he’d been a scrawny thing, the bulk of his daily caloric intake being just alcohol, and the calories burned off in succession with his rigorous trips to the brothel. But now, he ate three meals, each of them with Lyanna, except for breakfast. Breakfast was still reserved only for Alicent, Lyanna and Jaehaera– Aegon would eat in solitude quickly and wait outside of Alicent’s solar, waiting for Lyanna. Where he had shown ribs before, he had gained some mass, filling in his clothes. 

Lyanna quite liked him this way, soft and plush– he was nice to lay upon. 

She knew that he still had needs, as a man, and the time he’d gone without a woman, only using his own fist for pleasure, was certainly long. She was proud of him, in a way, that he overcame his baser instincts to try and better himself. 

But, she felt guilty as well. He would try to make advances, of course, a gentle touch to her bare thigh, a kiss to her neck, an accidental brush to her nipple– all ways that were increasingly enticing for her. She just wasn’t ready, and she made him know that and respect it. 

This usually ended in him sulking to the privy with his tail between his legs, more likely than not to take himself in his fist. 

And so it was, for those months. But a whole year passed since Aeron’s passing– the winds were changing.

–

“The council meeting is adjourned, unless anyone has anything to say otherwise.” Lyanna spoke, adjusting her rings absentmindedly.

Otto Hightower spoke up, clearing his throat. His hair had gone gray in the year’s time, and he was getting on in age– the war in previous years had taken its toll on every surviving member of the family in their own ways, and Otto had been the most adept at hiding it, until it became too much to hide. The previous week, he had been walking the corridors at an ungodly hour, looking for Helaena. His mind was turning against him. “The matter… of succession, your grace. The king should name his heir sooner than later, little Jaehaerys is nearing ten years of age, and is unbetrothed. Mayhaps… we should propose a betrothal to Rhaenyra’s daughter, Visenya.”

The council looked at Otto, their eyes wide. No one breathed, nor said a word; they didn’t know how to deal with such a thing, as Otto was usually the one who dealt with it– his mind, once as sharp as a whip, was now a dulled leather belt. 

Lyanna glanced at Aegon nervously, who sat up in his chair at the mention of Jaehaerys. “Grandsire,” he began, “That is… a splendid idea. I shall send a raven on the morrow to Rhaenyra upon Dragonstone.” 

Otto, in his addled wits, had become fond of Aegon. The old man smiled, nodding. “Good, my boy. Very good. I have no more contestment– I do believe it’s high noon, Aemond and Ser Cole will be in the training yard, so I must depart.”

Lyanna frowned, watching as Otto left. In a way, she felt him losing his mind was a fitting punishment for his culpability in the war. And yet, it pained her to see him so… lost. Like a kite with no strings, floating upon the breeze until it inevitably hits the ground. 

As Otto left, one of the other lords spoke up. “The Hand… does bring a good point, your grace. The matter of succession is still undecided. The… tragedy of the first babe leaves the realm waiting.” 

Lyanna opened her mouth to speak, but Aegon cut her off, leaning forward in his chair. His hair had grown much longer now, past his shoulders in white curls, moving with him as he steepled his hands on the table. “The first babe has a name, Lord Wylde. Aeron, is his name, and you shall address my son as such when speaking of him,” he snapped. “The queen is still recovering from the traumatic ordeal of his birth, and we shall give her the time that she needs. Anyone who speaks a word more of succession shall lose their tongue. My patience for this council’s schemes has ran out. Consider this the only warning.” Aegon pushed off from his chair, snatching his Sunfyre colored ball and stashing it in his pocket. “Council dismissed.” 

Lyanna watched as the lords rushed out of the room hurriedly, each one bowing their head in subservience to the King and Queen. Soon enough, it was just the two of them left. She didn’t speak a word, watching as Aegon paced, his hand twitching. He glanced at Lyanna a few times before walking to her and pulling out her chair. “My lady,” he muttered, his voice somewhat faraway. 

She straightened out her dress, standing up. “Thank you,” she responded, looking up at him. His face was much clearer now, not addled by dark circles under his eyes, nor the constant blush of intoxication. But his eyes themselves were still tired, still haunted. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, reaching out her hand to grasp his. “For dispatching Lord Wylde.” 

Aegon huffed, squeezing his wife’s hand. “I wish they would give it up– as if this whole situation wasn’t the cause of the war in the first place. Blind fucking idiots,” he grumbled, a calloused thumb wafting over her palm. In lieu of going to the brothels, he often would take out Sunfyre for flights, sometimes up to three or four times a day, his hands calloused and blistered from climbing up and down the saddle. 

Lyanna inspected his hand, delicate finger tracing over the blisters– some fresh. “You must wear gloves, Aegon,” she chastised softly, “Your hands have become so rough.” 

“I don’t like gloves, you know that,” he snorted. “They ruin the experience, can’t reach out and touch my boy’s scales, really feel them, with gloves on, now can I?”

Rolling her eyes, she dropped Aegon’s hand from her own. “I suppose not,” she contended, leaning back against the council table. She looked him up and down, her heart still feeling a bit tender from how gallantly he came to Aeron’s defense. The sun shined from the open balcony windows, illuminating his longer curls, and the rubies upon the Conqueror’s crown. His figure was solid, casting a shadow that could only be described as kingly. Lyanna blinked profusely, feeling a long locked away sensation bubble in her stomach, a heat coming to her face. 

“What?” he asked, staring right at her. He had become so attuned to her, as they practically were fused to the hip at every waking moment.

“N-nothing,” she murmured, looking away. If he looked into her eyes, he would see exactly what she was feeling. Desire.

He stepped forward, a hand under her chin as he tipped her head up to face him. Their gazes locked and it only took a moment for him to flash her that dazzling, aggravating, lovely smile. “Do you like my hands soft?”

“... yes.”

His calloused palm rested completely under her jaw now, thumb and forefinger encapsulating her as he tried to eke out the secret she was hiding. “Why is that?”

“Aegon– don’t tease me.” she mumbled, eyes darting everywhere but upon his face. 

“I’m not teasing, merely asking,” he got closer, the smug aura bleeding off of him like a sickly perfume. “Why so bashful, my queen?”

She felt her heart in her throat at their close proximity. They were close at night, even closer than this, but the energy charged around them was… different. It was something that they hadn’t experienced in a long time. Her mind went to how rough their last time had been together, how he fucked her like he hated her, like he hated himself– she didn’t want that now. She wanted… something different. She had to take control now and reel him in, if this was truly going to happen. “You’re teasing,” Lyanna hummed, the mood shifting as she leaned forward, grasping him by the collar of his doublet and pulling him to her. Her knee rested upon his clothed crotch in a testing manner. “Or, am I?”

His entire demeanor changed then, his hand falling from her jaw to rest on her arm. His hunched shoulders slumped as he pressed into her knee, his arousal becoming quite clear. “Y-you are,” he whispered, “my queen.” Aegon’s lip pouted slightly. 

Pulling him downward then, their lips met for the first time in almost a year. It wasn’t aggressive or dominant like before– it was slow and meticulous, as if they were getting used to one another again. He tasted like orange, which he had been snacking on before the meeting. She tasted like lavender tea… it was all so familiar, yet distant. Lyanna’s idea of control slowly faded as they both surrendered to one another, tongues tasting and dancing as if they had all of the time in the world. They were both at each other’s mercy, both gentle as they undressed each other– as much as they could in the council room, anyhow. Lyanna unbuckled his trousers, sliding them down and grabbing a handful of his bottom, which was fleshy and pert now. His hands pulled down her bodice and squeezed at her breasts softly, rolling a nipple between his middle and forefinger. 

It didn’t take much time for Aegon to ruck up her skirts and sink himself into her, slowly. Their mouths parted, still ghosting over one another as they drank in moans and whimpers as he bottomed out. It was still a tight squeeze and a wonderfully intense stretch. They didn’t need to speak, they didn’t want to– both were enjoying one another’s noises; Aegon’s heavy panting, coupled with Lyanna’s breathy moans into his ear. 

They found solace and comfort, truly, for the first time in their marriage. It wasn’t fucking out of duty, nor jealousy, nor hatred. It was… love. It was because they wanted to, because they both wanted one another. 

Because they both loved each other. 

They’d never said it before, but the inkling of it had begun a few months before. Lyanna’s heart clenched as she stared into Aegon’s eyes, wide and violet, so full of devotion as he thrusted into her. It was on the precipice of both of their tongues– something that would change everything. 

“I love you,” Lyanna whispered.

“I love you,” Aegon responded.

It wasn’t a perfect relationship by any means, and was difficult at best. They could never fix each other’s scars, never mend the broken, never resurrect the dead– but, in that moment, as they truly made love for the first time, it became more bearable. 

Isn’t that all that anyone could ask for?

–

Another two years in Westeros passed. The sun was still shining brightly over the horizon, pouring through the glass windows atop the throne room. Hundreds were gathered in the masses from all over the continent. 

Otto had stepped down as Hand and taken a backseat to politics– he wasn’t in the present at all any longer, muttering of the past and beyond, and stayed near his daughter in a wheeled chair, blanket over his legs. 

Alicent had trimmed her hair short and stopped wearing green, rather, matching Lyanna’s choices of gold and white.

Jaehaera stood next to her father, dressed in blue and white, like her mother always wore. 

Aegon didn’t sit on the throne, but stood in front of it, hand on the small of Lyanna’s back. 

Lyanna pressed close to Aegon and Jaehaera, holding a babbling one year old upon her hip with one arm. A son– named Rhaenor, who had a head of white curls, and deep brown eyes. Her other hand was caressed on her stomach, which was swollen once again with child.

“I’d like to thank you all for gathering here today,” Aegon started, his voice booming through the throne room, silencing any chatter. “There has been some speculation on when the queen and I would formally name our heir. I won’t keep the realm waiting any longer. I, Aegon of House Targaryen, second of my name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm– formally name my heir,” he paused for a moment, ever basking in the moment. “Jaehaera Targaryen will succeed me as the ruler of the realm.”

There were whispers in the crowd but they were once again silenced. “We shall not repeat the errors of the past. My word and decree now is just and binding, not to be rescinded. My son, Rhaenor, will not succeed me, nor any other sons or children of mine. Jaehaera Targaryen is my heir.”

–

Jaehaera Targaryen succeeded Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, after he abdicated the crown at age sixty-two, focusing on helping dragons make a return after the near decimation of them from the Dance. He, with the help of his son Rhaenor, hatched five dragon eggs upon the Dragonmount, saving them from near extinction.

Aegon passed in his sleep at age eighty-five, surrounded by his five children and dozen grandchildren, as well as his fiercely loyal wife, Lyanna. 

Lyanna passed one moon after Aegon. 

Her dreams became real– she was young again, toes dipped in the pond with Aeron next to her, and Aegon next to him.

A few more figures approached from the darkness near the edges of the pond, white haired and violet eyed. 

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #wine red tears gold