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messedupfan · 1 day

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The Hope of a Free World: The Mentor

Summary: After confronting Finnick about the rebellion, you are given the task of mentoring him in the 75th Hunger Games.

A/n: So a little explanation here. You do not have to read both "The Mentor" and "The Tribute" but you do have to read "Prologue." This is sort of my version of a Choose Your Own Adventure because I saw this going both ways when the request was made. You are absolutely welcome to read both versions of the story, but thought I'd let y'all know that you don't have to. I also forgot to warn y'all before but I'm a huge Everlark fan. If you stan Everthorne, not the fic for you.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of suicide, alcoholism, drug abuse, mentions of forced prostitution, rebellion, mentions of torture.

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | The Prologue

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When the announcement of the Third Quarter Quell declared that the tributes would be pulled from the existing pool of victors, you were itching for a drink. No, you were itching for the drug you take when you have to entertain a client you don’t like. You wanted to feel numb. You didn’t want to think about having to experience the anxiety of a reaping once again.

You don’t alter your mind to escape the harsh reality. As much as you want to. It still plays with your mind even though you knew this was going to happen. Finnick warned you that this is what their meeting in the Capitol was about. As soon as the broadcast is over, Finnick storms into your house and pulls you out. It needed to look real since your house was most likely bugged. You can hear Annie’s cries from the house they shared as he walks you over. She doesn’t know what’s going on, it’s for the best. According to Finnick, this was the only home in the Victor’s Village that had all of its recording devices removed. He made sure of it.

He threw you on the couch as he began to pull on his hair and mutter to himself. He was really good at putting on a performance. “Mags,” he left and returned with the older woman a few minutes later. That was everyone Annie knew that he could trust in the district.

Finnick doesn’t say anything coherent, mostly muttering to himself. He gives Annie a heavy dose of sleep syrup and he carries her to bed when it kicks in. “Okay,” he starts as he sits in front of you and Mags. No longer putting on the panicked act for Annie. Now she knows he’s talking to you and to Mags. That’s all she needs to know. “Here’s the plan, we’re going to train with each other to fight. But I’m going to need you to stop being anti-social. You haven’t mentored a winning tribute yet and I’m going to need your help in there.”

You nodded even though you hated that your contribution to the rebellion had to be talking to other people. “Well, I thought Mags was going to be there with me,” you remind them nervously as you fiddle with your medallion.

Mags and Finnick exchange a look and your eyes bounce between the two as they both shake their heads. “Sable can’t be trusted. We tried to recruit her without her knowing but she is stuck in her ways. The Capitol hasn’t hurt her the way it has us. She wasn’t ever… desirable in their eyes so she doesn’t know what Snow does to us.” You scowl and shake your head. Even without being prostituted, you’d hoped that a fellow survivor of the Hunger Games would see that this wasn’t a way of life. “Annie… she isn’t an option. Mags is going to have to volunteer in order for this to work,” Finnick concludes. You nod.

“Looks like we have a lot of work to do,” you say with a sigh.

It was more than just combative training and learning how to charm sponsors. It was also learning about your escape out of the Capitol. Wanda even paid a heavy price to be allowed to see you one last time before the reaping just to show you the way the two of you, and anyone else you need to rescue, are going to make it out of there when the arena gets shut down. You couldn’t believe it when you found out that she was part of the resistance. But when she revealed that her motivations were the same as yours, it all made your heart flutter. Neither of you have felt free enough to say the words. Even without hearing her say those three words, you could hear it in the silence. You could feel it on the way home. You didn’t need much more than that for the time being.

At the reaping your heart jumps with anxiety as your name is called. You stand forward as you wait for the process. Volunteers only occur after the reaping winner is introduced to the audience. You make sure to hold your head up high and only drop it when Finnick inevitably volunteers in your place.

There is no time allotted for goodbyes. Which Finnick would have been okay with had they not denied Annie to join. She wasn’t mentally fit to take on the role of a mentor and according to the head Peacekeeper that escorted you, Finnick, and Mags to the train; it was an order given by the President that this year, they only needed one mentor for the tributes. You were still meant to mentor because you hadn’t successfully found your replacement.

Finnick was nervous the entire ride to the Capitol. He knew that it was possible that Annie wouldn’t be allowed to mentor. She was exempt in the past since she was more unstable than others. They developed a system to give her the best life possible but she still held a reputation for not being all there mentally. He hoped that his allies in District 4 would be able to get her out of there. But there was no guarantee.

You tried your best to comfort him but there wasn’t much you could do that wouldn’t give away the mission. That wouldn’t give away their private relationship. You didn’t want to risk exposing them, even if there’s a possibility that President Snow already knows. You weren’t going to do anything that will haunt you to believe it was you who confirmed his suspicions.

Through the training period you are constantly meeting with Haymitch to gauge whether or not he’s been able to convince the Mockingjay and her boy with the bread to team up with your tributes. The three of you nearly jumped for joy when Haymitch informed you that the young woman chose Mags. None of you expected her to want to team with Finnick. His job was to focus on gaining Peeta’s trust. She wasn’t going to team up with anyone without his approval.

Next came the time to shmooze the people in the Capitol placing bets and offering their support as soon as the Hunger Games started. You put every donation into your communicuff so you could eventually afford a gift to send. You pretended to accept many drinks and because you had been drunk plenty of times in the past, you knew how to play the part. Not as well as Haymitch of course. With Haymitch’s help, the two of you were able to get a few parachutes with supplies here and there but the prices are much higher this year since it’s a Quarter Quell and everyone wants to help their favorite former victors. You get lost in the act of cheering on your tributes on the screen and manipulating people into placing their money into your pockets.

On the day that Beetee tells his remaining allies in the arena that he has a plan, you are promptly reminded why you're there to begin with. That’s when you started to get nervous. Knowing that you had to escape without being seen. If you failed, it could mean the end of you and you weren’t ready to sacrifice yourself for the cause yet. The whole reason you joined was to safeguard a future with the woman you loved. It was hard for you to focus, you were so on edge. You jumped every time someone approached you to hand you money to help your team. Any movement had your eyes scanning the crowd for a white suite with a black tinted shield on their helmets with guns pointed at you. There never were any. They remained on the other side of the doors that surrounded the room. The paranoia was eating you alive as if you were in the arena once again.

When they started wrapping the tree with the wire, Wanda finally appeared from the sea of Capitolites. You didn’t know if she was ever in the room before that day but you were more than relieved to see her. “We have to go,” she whispered urgently as she grabbed your hand. You didn’t process fast enough to move so Haymitch tossed a drink in your face.

“I am so sorry, I can be such a clutz,” he grabbed you by your bicep. “Move,” he muttered as he smiled in the direction of the curious eyes that landed on the pair of us. “Nothin’ t’see here folks!” He slurred with a sloppy grin. He was drunk for so long that everyone bought the act.

You began to move and follow Haymitch and Wanda. Haymitch was staggering so the two of you walked out of the area with him leaning on the both of you. The Peacekeepers almost didn’t pay the three of you any mind.

Effie Trinket, the escort for District 12, trailed behind the two of you and she almost spoiled the escape as the Peacekeepers stopped her then asked the three of you to stop as well. “Excuse me, I am the only one with the key to the District 12 penthouse!” The Peacekeeper then asked why she couldn’t take Wanda’s spot in carrying Haymitch to his room and before you could stutter on a response, Effie was quick on her feet. “And risk flattening my feathers,” she scoffed as she clutched her pearls, “I think not!” The Peacekeeper apologized and let all four of you go.

At the first checkpoint, you and Haymitch discard your communicuffs so they can’t track you anymore. But that meant that the four of you had to move faster. They were made to alert authorities when prematurely removed.

There was a little bit of a hiccup in the plan when a man approached Wanda, appearing out of nowhere. Stalling the four of you while he pulled her to the side to talk to her. You send Haymith and Effie off to continue to the rendezvous point as you stay back to ensure that Wanda gets there as well. The man's name was Vision, you overheard her when she asked him to let her go. There seemed to be some sort of history there. He looked like a government official. You couldn’t really tell what his significance was. But when he grabbed Wanda again and threatened to expose her, you did what life in the academy at District 4 raised you to do. He didn’t hear or see you coming when you came up behind him and snapped his neck.

Wanda’s eyes widened but she shook her head and got back into focus. “Let’s go, we have to get out of here now.” You nodded and followed. When you got to the tunnel you were surprised to see a few of the other mentors there as well. You figured that they were on the side of the Capitol since their tributes were but each of them revealed their crackers with the mockingjay symbol on them. You did as well. There was a head count before every person could eat them to get rid of them.

In the small gathering of people with a mix of mentors, camera crew, and what appeared to be Avoxes, Wanda recognized another man and this time she ran into his arms with tears in her eyes. You almost began to think that she had fooled you into believing that you were more than a purchase for her until she pulled away from him and you could get a good look at him.

There was a small conversation once about him. Wanda had pictures of him all over her home and you once asked if she was married. She laughed at first but her expression fell as she realized you were holding a picture frame in your hand. She took the frame and placed it face down on the shelf as she muttered, “He was my twin before he became a traitor.” That was the last time you ever asked about him.

Seeing her beam at him through her tears told you all you needed to know. Even if you were the reason she continued to be part of the rebellion, he was the reason she first sought them out. You couldn’t wait to be able to talk freely with her in District 13. You knew that there were many sides of her that you had yet to explore and you couldn’t wait to get to know her on a much deeper level.

Once everyone boarded the stolen hovercraft you took a deep breath as you hoped that the plan in the arena went down as smoothly. But even if it didn’t, you knew that this was just the beginning of the new world.

District 13 was strict. Each day you had a schedule tattooed on your forearm and you'd face harsh consequences if you didn't obey it. The meals were tasteless and the portions were less than you had gotten used to since becoming a victor. The training regimen was beyond what you were used to but it was the only thing about the district that you enjoyed because it was the easiest adjustment. Not to mention the times you got to spar with Wanda were some of the best foreplay the two of you got to experience.

Unfortunately the two of you didn't get nearly as much time together as either of you hoped. Since you weren't married, they wouldn't let the two of you share a living space together. So she lived with Pietro, while you lived on your own. It was frustrating but you weren't willing to marry her over a distaste for the living arrangement. You wanted to wait until the country was free and so did she.

The schedule allotted thirty minutes for family time. A decent break between the education and training for most of the citizens of District 13. You suppose it gave time to remind those who forget, what they are fighting for exactly. You and Wanda used that time to learn the sign language that the Avoxes use as communication. Wanda felt so disconnected from her twin because she couldn’t communicate with him the way she used to. Pietro was very patient and helpful when it came to the private lessons between the three of you.

“I’m happy to have him back but,” Wanda sighed as she laid in your arms. “I wish I had done something to protect him.”

You frowned as you lightly caressed her arm. You looked at her for a moment and admired her natural beauty. In District 13 appearance wasn't a priority the way that it is in the Capitol and certain districts. Wanda didn't need the wigs or the heavy makeup in order to fit in here. She finally got to be her true self. “There was nothing you could have done for him. If you had tried, you would have ended up just like him. You might not have even gotten here,” you tried to comfort her.

Wanda sat up and faced you, “I um,” she looked down as she started to trace patterns on your chest. “I'm the reason he got in trouble in the first place.”

You made a face, “How so?”

“Vision,” she started and looked at the wall beside her. “The man you killed during our escape. He, uh, we were engaged. He worked in the government and he knew powerful people.” You nodded to show that you were following along when she did finally look at you. “And he witnessed Pietro committing an act of treason. He wasn't going to turn my brother in while we were engaged. I didn't know that he had seen Pietro do something illegal.” You rubbed Wanda's back as she spoke. It was clearly a difficult topic for her. “Vision never did anything out of the kindness of his heart. And he had a bit of a darkside to him that at a certain point, I couldn't handle anymore. So I broke off the engagement. He didn't even ask me to reconsider. He just showed up at my apartment the next day with a warrant and several Peacekeepers.” She closed her eyes as tears started to slip out.

You shook your head as you wiped her tears. “If you had agreed to marry Vision, do you think you'd have been alive today?” Wanda thought for a second before she shook her head. “I think Pietro would tell you that you made the right decision. In fact, I'd put my money on that being the first thing he tells you when you can understand him. I mean, he was so incredibly happy to see you again. If he didn't care about you, he would have held a grudge.”

“I suppose you're right,” she sighed as she rested against you again. The two of you fell asleep shortly after. And you were right.

Pietro was eventually given a communication tablet because during a strategy meeting, he had written down brilliant ideas. President Coin and commander Boggs both agreed that Pietro needed to be able to speak up in a way that everyone could understand. Beetee developed a chip that was implanted in Pietro’s head. So the words appear on the tablet as fast as he can think them. He was even given options to either have it turned off completely or partially. Like if he wanted to have a private conversation, he could turn the voice option off and hand the tablet to the other person. And if he wanted to keep his thoughts private, he could turn the tablet off completely and not worry about a single thought being recorded or heard.

The first thing he told Wanda was that he doesn’t blame her for what happened to him and that he is proud to see her as a happy and free woman. She sobbed and held onto him for the duration of the family time break.

Finnick wasn't successful in retrieving both assets from the arena which made the progression of the rebellion slow down. He was able to get the girl out but not the boy. Johanna claimed that the girl was annoying before, but without Peeta she was insufferable. You couldn't imagine what she was going through. You were grateful that you weren't in her shoes. That you had Wanda with you.

You tried to stay out of everything that concerned the Mockingjay and being a face of the revolution. You figured that the girl would snap out of it and realize that it was bigger than her. But eventually they started to look at you and Johanna. Finnick was willing to participate until the night that Annie was executed on live television at the District 4 Justice Building with four other confirmed rebels. The ones that were meant to help her escape the district. He tried to join her in the after life but you found him in time and got him to the infirmary.

You cried in Wanda's arms that night for the loss of your friends. You knew that Finnick won't ever be the same.

So the responsibility of the propos fell onto you and Johanna. She was great at acting for the camera. You remember that’s how she was able to win her first games. No one thought the shy dainty girl from District 7 stood a chance in the arena until she got her hands on an axe.

Most of her propos were filmed on a soundstage. She had a blue baton and fought against the soldiers dressed in Peacekeeper uniforms. Then she'd recite the lines perfectly. But there was something missing. You couldn't put your finger on it. But she wasn't inspiring. She was impressive. But she didn't have what Katniss had. And neither did you.

You were a little more clumsy in your propo performances. You'd miss your marks and fumble on your lines. Luckily, with enough takes they were able to scramble something together. But it didn't have the fire it needed. It wasn't enough to inspire people to risk their lives for a cause that started to feel like it was dying.

“It's not dying, it's just,” Wanda fails to come up with another term after you've expressed your concerns with her. She holds your face in her hands as she climbs onto your lap. Her eyes traveled along your face. She was searching for something. You didn't know what. “I can help you with your lines. Just, get me clearance to be with you during the day. You can do it. You can keep this revolution alive. I've seen that fire in you. You just need to have the right motivations.”

You smirk, “I’m assuming that you believe that's you?” Wanda smacks your shoulder and you laugh as you kiss her cheek and trap her as she tries to escape your arms. “I'm kidding. I love you,” you said as you gazed into her eyes. Wanda froze in your arms. It was the first time you'd said the words out loud. She didn't know what she expected to feel when she finally heard those words from you, but she didn't expect to feel so much at once. She felt joy, she felt love, she also felt a deep fear.

With tearful eyes, she leaned in and kissed your lips. “I love you too,” she whispered against your lips. The two of you made slow and passionate love that night. Telling each other how much you'd felt for each other.

Wanda was right, with her as your director, you had the proper motivations for your filming. Plutarch was ecstatic with the new footage and things in the districts started to get rowdy again. People began to get motivated again.

Things in District 13 started to feel a little more claustrophobic with the successes of your propos. Strangers would thank you and request autographs. Women would invade your personal space. Wanda would step in their way whenever she was around but she couldn't be by your side twenty-four seven.

One of the times that a girl tried to kiss you, you were able to slip away and ran into an open vent to hide from her. That's where you found Katniss curled in a ball muttering to herself. “Sorry,” you said when she was startled by your presence. “I didn't mean to scare you, I just…” you cleared your throat and fiddled with your medallion. “I thought people here in Thirteen would have more boundaries than those in the Capitol but I guess horniness is a universal problem.” You tried to joke and you only got met with her glare.

You nodded once and took a deep breath as you braced yourself for what you might face when you climbed out. But then a nurse started to call for Katniss. The girl curled up further and you instinctively blocked the nurse's view of Katniss with your body. “Sergeant, you shouldn't be in here,” the nurse grumbled. “Is Ms. Everdeen in there with you?”

“I'm offended by that question. She is a married woman, and way too young for me,” you acted out dramatically. “I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I prefer someone a tad older than me. Don't tell her I said that though. She likes to keep her age a secret. But I mean come on simple math-”

“What are you doing in there?” The nurse asked sharply as she interrupted your rambling.

You hold up your medallion and the light of her flashlight bounces off of it. “I tripped walking and had to look for this,” you explained. “It's one of a kind. Couldn't risk losing it.”

“Well since you've found it, you can leave. This is a favorite spot for the Mockingjay to hide. No one has seen her for hours,” the nurse explained.

“Well, you're going to have to look somewhere else because she's not here,” you stressed as you stayed in your position. You were afraid if you moved, you would risk exposing that Katniss was also inside.

The nurse turns off the flashlight and leaves. You listened to her heavy footsteps and waited until you couldn't hear her. “Why did you do that?” Katniss startled you.

You yelped and held your hand to your chest as you dropped your coin. “Shit, Everdeen. Warn a person,” you patted the ground and your heart didn't stop racing until your fingers wrapped around the familiar metal. “I did it because I get needing a breather from all of the chaos out there. Besides, since you're out of commission, the rest of us have had to fill in for you. Let me tell you, I do not envy you. But I do sympathize with you.”

“What are you talking about?” Katniss scowled at you.

“They need a face of the revolution. Panem needs your face but they've been settling for mine and Jo’s,” you elaborated with a small laugh. “Let me tell you, I think I'm steering people in the wrong direction. I've had people approach me for a good time more than thanking me for trying to keep this revolution alive,” you shook your head as you stared at your medallion.

“I have had to endure listening to the nurses gush about you,” Katniss muttered. You snorted. “I almost wished I could go back into the arena. It wasn't as painful.”

“Believe me, no one wishes they could return to the arena more than I do,” you said quietly. “If I could've warned my younger self, I probably would have told him to not win,” you admit. Then you sigh. “But then I wouldn't have gotten to experience all of the good things I've managed to experience in my life.”

“Ah, I've heard that you were quite popular with the citizens of the Capitol. I'm sure there's no regrets there when everyone wants to sleep with you, and has,” Katniss replied sarcastically. You're sure that she thought it was a harmless remark. She had no idea the weight of her words. So you gave her some grace.

“Trust me Katniss, there's plenty of regrets there,” you said as you looked at her. “You're lucky to be ignorant to the true life of a victor. Especially someone as desirable as you.”

Katniss rolled her eyes, “I'm far from desirable.”

“A lot of my buyers would disagree,” you scoffed.

“Buyers?” Katniss questioned but you couldn't explain it. So you shook your head.

“Let's get you back to the infirmary,” you said as you offered her your hand. “You need to get better,” you said with a soft tone.

Katniss stared at your hand as the red emergency light shined on it, then looked at you with tears in her eyes. She shook her head. “I don't deserve to. Not when Peeta…” she couldn't finish her sentence and you nodded.

“You can't save him if you don't get better,” you tried to encourage her. “If you want them to arrange a rescue mission, you have to give Coin what she wants.”

“Coin?” She squeaked out in confusion.

The corner of your lips stretched up slightly. “She's the president of this district. Alma Coin is her full name,” you inform her.

“Oh,” Katniss nodded. Then she accepted your hand and the two of you left the space. But once the two of you were in the hallway, Katniss wouldn't move. “I can't go back. I… the hallucinations… I can't.”

“Hallucinations?” You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The drugs, I don't know. Whatever they use to sedate me. It's,” Katniss failed to continue then was interrupted when Gale Hawthorne spotted the two of you.

“Katniss, there you are,” he said as he jogged down the corridor. As he got closer he slowed down and scowled at you. “I knew you weren't picky but I didn't think you were a predator,” he glared at you as he pulled Katniss away from you.

“Gale,” Katniss snapped at him as he stood between the two of you. “Leave Y/n alone. We weren't doing anything. Let's go.”

“Stay away from her,” Gale nearly growled at you. At the moment you refrained from laughing but later that night, you and Wanda couldn't stop laughing about it.

A couple of days after that, while you were sitting with Wanda and Pietro in the mess hall, a blonde girl in her early teens dressed as one of the nurses tapped your shoulder. It took you a moment to recognize Primrose Everdeen but after she claimed that her sister requested to see you after lunch, you were able to put the pieces together. Wanda encouraged you to go so you did.

When you met with Katniss, she wanted you to catch her up to speed with everything that had been going on. She didn't know who she could trust but she didn't think you'd lie to her. Gale treated her like she could break at any second. She didn't care to see her mentor or her district escort. Prim would go on and on about her day whenever she tended to Katniss, she didn't have any important information. The girl was in medical training. You seemed to be the best option.

And you proved to be. You would sit by her side for thirty minutes each day, catching her up on any information that you thought she should know. She appreciated the honesty.

She eventually got discharged from the infirmary. At her first meeting with Coin and Plutarch she requested that you were nearby. She was in there for about five minutes before she stormed out of the room. A week later, she was being dropped off in her home district. Plutarch's way of reminding the Mockingjay what's at stake. You were left behind to train, not that you minded. You weren't ever good at being a mentor. You don't know why you had the misfortune of being the one to find her that day. But the teenager seemed to have attached herself to you like a lost puppy.

When she returned from District 12, she asked you to help her with a list of demands. She said her sister suggested it and that was the first time you wished that you were in her position. During the lunch hour, she sat with you and Wanda and Pietro. Wanda was hoping that Katniss wouldn't recognize her since she's almost positive she offended the girl while doing her job when she had a job in the Capitol. Luckily, Katniss never put it together. Pietro would chime in with a suggestion or two and Katniss was grateful for the input. After her meeting with President Coin she confirmed that she accepted her role as the Mockingjay.

Eventually Katniss began to rely a lot more on others. She developed a closer relationship with Johanna to the point that she requested to be roommates with her. You laughed when Johanna told you that Katniss wasn't as bad as she originally made her out to be. With Katniss needing you less, you were able to allocate time for Finnick. He was in horrible shape from losing the love of his life in such a horrific way.

“I'm kind of glad she's dead,” he'd said one day as he focused his attention on his rope. “At least she's not being tortured. At least it's all over for her. She suffered for a long time. She's not in pain anymore.” It hurt you to hear the lifeless tone from the man that brought life to so much. He was the one to remind so many that through tragedy, there was still so much good. He's the one that snapped you out of your darkness. He had suffered so much for so long and he never let it show until Annie was executed. His words hurt for many reasons. That Annie was also your friend who could be quite funny and lively when she was stable. That she was someone anyone with a heart wanted to protect whenever she wasn't.

At the mention of how she suffered, you recall a day at the market. It was just you and Annie. She was rattling on and on about some recipe she was trying to remember. She was slightly frustrated because she couldn't remember a certain ingredient. When you began to list off any ingredients that you could think of, a fake spear nearly hit Annie in the face. It would have made contact had you not caught it in time. The kids that were messing with the toy were very apologetic until Annie started screaming. People around began to panic as Annie had a melt down and all you could think to do was to shield her away from everyone. Others who were sympathetic to her condition helped you get through the crowded market while you carried her. It took her a month to snap out of it. You stopped by to check on her each day and Finnick allowed an hour visit each time. She would sit in her bed and stare blankly at the wall. She wouldn't speak. She'd hardly blink. You then knew that there was no such thing as a victor. There were only survivors.

Sitting with Finnick was a lot like that. He wouldn't talk much and when he did speak, you almost wished you hadn't been there to hear it.

On the day that Peeta was finally broadcast in an interview with Caesar Flickerman, Katniss rose up from her table where she was sitting with her mom and sister. She had a look you'd seen many times from Finnick and Annie and you felt that same protectiveness. She shouldn't have had to experience that moment so publicly. You pulled her out of the cafeteria and took her to a private area to watch Peeta's interview.

There weren't a lot of areas with private television access but you were able to shoo people out of a control room to allow Katniss the privacy. You stood outside the door to prevent anyone from going inside. You didn't run inside until you heard her screams. You wrapped your body around her and taught her how to breathe again until she calmed down.

Shortly after that, Katniss started to do her propos. You asked Wanda to help direct her because she was so helpful with you. But when Effie caught wind of the possibility of a replacement, she swooped in. Unfortunately for her, Katniss wasn't an actor. She gave terrible delivery of her lines and her body language was too stiff. Even with Wanda’s notes, Katniss's performances were silly. Then they tested adding you and Johanna to help carry the weight. The two of you read the lines and Katniss was only meant to be seen and not heard. But it still wasn't enough.

It wasn't until Haymitch walked in with his sarcastic claps that the team was able to put together what gave the Mockingjay her flare. She had to be in action. Her emotions had to be raw and real. Not with silly weapons and pretend fighting. Coin was resistant to letting the stars out into the front lines but Commander Boggs and Plutarch were able to convince her.

Wanda wasn't too thrilled about you going out to fight either. The last thing she wanted to do was risk losing you. “I know that it's important but,” Wanda stands in the corner of your living quarters. “You have to swear to me that you're coming back here in one piece.”

“Wanda, it's going to be safe,” you said as you crossed the room and took her face in your hands with a light touch. “You heard the details of the mission. They're only sending us to a refuge hospital in District Eight. We won't encounter a battle. We’ll be far from it. Besides, I hear Beetee has whipped up some badass weapons that aren't just for show.” She cracked a smile and you kissed her. The two of you leaned your foreheads against one another with your eyes shut for a moment as you held each other's hands.

“Come back to me,” she whispered.

“I promise, I always will.”

The following day Beetee invited you, Katniss, Gale, and Johanna to his laboratory where he presented the new weapons for each of you. For Katniss he had a sleek black bow that hummed with life whenever she held it in position. She used a normal arrow to practice and according to her, the bow helped her with accuracy. Not that she had a problem with that according to Gale. He was given a crossbow that seemed to have similar features to Katniss's bow. The bows came equipped with two types of special arrows. One had explosives and the other had fire.

Johanna was given an especially sharp axe with nanotechnology that reshapes itself in order to stay that way. She was given a special glove with it. If she threw it too far, she was able to call it back to her no matter what it was stuck in or how far away it was. She thought it was a dumb idea at first and she was scared to even test it out since she couldn't trust that the axe wouldn't land in her hand the wrong way. But after a couple of run throughs, she couldn't wait to be given the chance to use the weapon.

Next you were given a special trident. There was a second one made just like it for Finnick and it hurt you that he wasn't healthy enough to be doing this with you. After all, he was part of this long before you were.

“The metal used for your trident and Johanna’s axe aren't of this planet. There isn't a metal stronger than this,” Beetee explained as you questioned why the trident was so light. You'd never wielded a trident so light since you were a child. You'd believed you were duped until you cut a test dummy's head clean off with barely a motion.

“Why aren't our arrowheads made with the same material?” Gale asked with a scowl.

“It's the rarest metal on earth, bigfoot,” a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere as he tapped away on a tablet. “Explosives aren't enough for you?” He shakes his head. “We only had enough material for the Mockingjay suit, the axe, and the tridents.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me that Katniss gets a special suit and the rest of us are vulnerable?” Johanna asked next. It wasn't fair.

“Take it up with Cinna. Oh wait, you can't,” the man said in reference to the designer's death.

“What does Cinna have to do with this metal?” Katniss asked.

“It came from his ancestors. He said the metal was called vibranium. He only had a limited supply of the pure metal and he had enough of its fabric to make the Mockingjay armor. I only fulfilled his dying wishes,” the man said.

“Meet Tony Stark, everyone,” Beetee introduces the man. “He is almost as intelligent as I am.”

“Charming,” Tony rolled his eyes at the man. “If you don't mind, some of us have real work to do.” He took the trident from your hands. “May I?” He said as he walked away without a response from you. He walked around the lab and took apart the rod. You figured that whatever he was up to with the weapon was only going to benefit you.

The trident ended up being very useful in District 8 when the Peacekeepers attacked the hospital.

Arriving at District 8, the group was brought inside a formerly abandoned warehouse. The entrance hall of the building was lined with stacks of casualties. You nearly threw up at the smell. Gale did have to step aside to vomit. Paylor commented that everyone will get used to the smell. You couldn't believe these were the conditions for those that couldn't make it to District 13. You had no idea how good you'd had it in that district until you walked into the main area of the warehouse.

It was full of sick and injured and dying men, women, and children. Those who weren't at risk of losing their lives were tending to those that were. It was eye opening. This was the cost of war. It made you queasy again. You nearly fainted. But you didn't want them to waste any of their supplies on you. So you continued to stand tall.

The first sighting of Katniss had the people stunned. They hadn't seen her until that point. No one outside of Thirteen had. An elderly woman asked her about her baby after she agreed that she was going to fight. You hadn't thought about the fact that Peeta had shocked everyone on the night of the interviews with the news of their private nuptials and baby announcement. It appeared that Katniss might've forgotten about that as well but she recovered quickly. She stated that she lost the baby.

Shortly after that Cressida, a director from the Capitol, was raving about the footage she got of Katniss and of the rest of you meeting refugees and handing them supplies they needed. Plutarch thought it would be more effective if the team was sent with gifts and not just gifting the injured with the presence of the Mockingjay. You and Johanna were whispering inside jokes to each other about how Gale didn't look at Katniss like they were related. Then the jokes turned into claims that the rumors of their home districts incest problems might not be rumors. Gale heard that one and turned around to say something. That's when the first bomb hit. The team sprung into action to get out of the building and that's when everyone saw the hovercrafts with the Capitol emblems on them. Katniss and Gale moved to get higher in order to shoot them down with their special arrows. You tried to shoot them down with the standard issue machine gun they provided you in case something like this happened but it was just a waste of bullets once an arrow took one of the crafts down.

A squad of Peacekeepers appeared and were firing their weapons. As you dove for cover, Johanna threw her axe. The weapon cut off three heads of Peacekeepers before it got stuck in a cement wall. On your hip, your trident was closed into a simple rod. You pulled it out and clicked a button that allowed it to expand out and reveal its sharp metal. You accidentally tapped another button and the blades became electrified.

“Cool,” Johanna muttered as she watched your weapon become even deadlier. She caught her axe in her hand and together the two of you charged at the Peacekeepers. Taking multiple down at a time. Not stopping until the last one was gone. Unfortunately, even with all of the effort to stop the attack, the makeshift hospital was gone.

You were devastated by the sight. As was Katniss. She gave a harrowing speech into the camera as a Capitol ship burned behind her. She pointed to it and shouted, “If we burn! You burn with us!”

Wanda ran into your arms as soon as you stepped out of the hovercraft.

“I heard there was a attack in Eight. I thought, I thought,” she shook as she failed to finish her sentence.

“It's okay,” you whispered as you held her just as tight. “I'm okay.”

Katniss watched you and Wanda. She remembered having a similar feeling in her first games when she heard the cannon go off and she couldn't find Peeta. Again when his heart stopped in the second games. She felt it recently when she saw Peeta on television for the first time since they'd been separated. She looked at Gale and wondered if she'd feel that kind of fear if his life was at stake. She knows she'd be afraid to lose him. But would she feel the same desperation she felt for Peeta? She didn't know. She did know that she the first impressions of you that she had before were completely wrong. She thought that, much like Finnick, you were just another victor that used their fame and riches to sleep with everyone and anyone. There was a lot of coverage of it in the years since you'd won. But watching the way you were with Wanda. She realized there was something a lot more to you than that.

“When you said your buyers would disagree,” Katniss started as the two of you walked around the woods. She was in an argument with Gale because of what Peeta was being forced to say on television. Katniss still wanted to hunt but she wasn't allowed to without at least one other person with her. She invited Johanna but she said she'd rather be burned alive because at least that torture ended in death. So she asked you and you didn't feel up to dancing in front of another camera so you agreed. “What did you mean by that?”

“I shouldn't have said that to you,” you said as you kept on walking.

“Well you did and I want to know what that meant,” Katniss pressed on as she followed.

“Why? It's not important,” you tried to move on from the subject and when she asked again you stopped walking. You turned to her and sighed. “Katniss, what I'm about to tell you isn't… It's not something you'll be able to easily forget. Are you sure that you want to know?”

Katniss nodded her head, “Yes, I need to know. I can't stop thinking about it. Why would you have buyers?”

“Because of Snow,” you stated with a shrug. “I wasn't the only one. There are, sorry, were other victors that were auctioned off to the highest bidders. Those that were found to be… desirable in the eyes of Capitol citizens or officials were forced to comply. Snow allowed us access to certain drugs that took the edge off, made the meetings bearable. But if we ever resisted, he would kill someone that we cared about. It happened to Finnick. It happened to Johanna. It happened to me. So, Katniss, when I say that you are lucky. I mean that you are lucky,” you stated before turning and walking on.

“I don't get it. Why would he do that?” Katniss eventually asked after a while. She had gone silent after your speech and you felt bad for your snarky comment. You hardly knew what she had to endure, she was from a poor district. She'd been in the Hunger Games twice. It wasn't a fair statement.

You shrugged at her question, “To remind us that we're still just as powerless as we were before we won? I don't know.”

Katniss stopped you from walking further and turned you to face her. She scanned your face with her eyes then she hugged you. “I'm sorry you had to go through that,” she said against your chest. You responded to the hug by wrapping your arms around her and rubbing her back.

“It's over now,” you stated before pulling away.

“How did you manage to find someone to love through all of that? How did you allow yourself to open up to someone that way?” Katniss asked.

You smiled as you thought about the first time you met Wanda. “Love isn't something that you find or that you decide whether or not to accept. Not when it's true. The kind of love that I have with Wanda, it snuck up on me. I never expected it and I don't think she did either. I tried to fight it, of course. She did as well, I mean I might've been a victor but I was still from the districts. Falling for me was a giant risk for her. Not just career wise but her life was at stake as well. But eventually neither of us could deny it,” you shook your head.

“Wanda isn't from District Four?” Katniss asked dumbly.

You laughed, “She's going to kill me when I tell you this because she thinks she might've offended you when she was doing her job but no, she isn't from Four. She's from the Capitol. She used to do the gossip segment for Capitol TV.”

Katniss's eyes widened in recognition. “Now I remember her. Wow, I cannot believe I didn't recognize her. She's so human now.”

You nodded, “Yeah, she hated her job but it's what more than paid the bills.”

“It must’ve been difficult to protect that love,” she sympathized. “Talk about star-crossed lovers,” she muttered.

You stared at her for a moment as you considered asking all of the questions that had been swarming your mind long before you even met her. “You and your cousin?”

Katniss sighed through her nose as she looked at you, “He’s not my cousin. He – I don’t quite know what he is to me right now.”

You nodded and bit your lips. “You and Peeta,” you started and Katniss’s eyes darted to the ground, “What, uh, was any of that real?”

Katniss shook her head then she nodded then she shook her head more. “I don’t know. I’ve told myself a dozen times that it was just about survival but… I don’t know.” You nodded. You understood how complicated feelings could be. “Snow didn’t make it any easier.”

You frowned as your eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?”

Katniss took a deep breath, “He told me that if I couldn’t convince him and the rest of the country that my moment with berries was an act of love and not an act of defiance… he’d well, he made it seem like he’d kill everyone I cared about but instead he just sent us back into the games.” She looked off to the distance. “He wanted to avoid all of this.” She shook her head again. “I thought he was crazy. I didn’t think that my decision to save the person that saved my family and I when we were preteens would cause all of this.”

“Katniss,” you started, you wanted to tell her that there was so much more to this. But it wouldn’t be much comfort to know that every person has just been a pawn in these games. “Let’s just focus on hunting. That’s something that does a lot more good than bad, right?”

Katniss nodded as she started walking again.

After that the two of you were able to kill two giant elks. It took a lot to carry down to the kitchen but somehow the two of you managed. The two of you were sharing a laugh when a broadcast of Peeta came onto the screens in the cafeteria. He looked worse than the first time they showed him. Katniss covered her mouth at the sight. You shut your eyes as you tried to push away the thoughts of what they could be doing to the poor boy. It wasn't fair.

He was once again calling for a cease fire. Well the first time he was asking for one. This time he was begging for Katniss to stop. You shook your head at his words. You have no idea what you would do in his position.

The next propo recorded was Katniss's idea. She wanted to show Peeta what happened to their district. So the film crew went out to District 12 to film Katniss and Gale. You and Johanna were forced to go just in case there was another attack. It would look good for the cameras.

Katniss and Gale walked around what was left of their home district, which was nothing but ashes. Bodies were melted together and you could imagine their despair as they tried to run out of the district. Katniss told the cameras what building used to be where in what used to be the town square. She stood on what once was Peeta Mellark's childhood home. Gale then told the cameras how the bombing went down. He claimed that the Mellark's had no chance to get out of there as some of the first bombs hit around the bakery.

The footage ended up saving many lives. They intercepted another interview with Peeta and he looked much worse than before. He heard Katniss's song as Beetee and Tony disrupted the broadcast and warned her that everyone would be dead by the morning. The footage ended with Peeta being knocked out with the butt of a rifle. The camera fell as his blood splattered on the floor.

The district had to evacuate even further into the Earth. They had a bunker just in case the Capitol tried to bomb the already underground district again. You stayed with Wanda and Pietro as the bombs shook the planet. It was hours before the walls stopped shaking. It might've been all night but without any way to track the time, it didn't really matter. People just wanted it to stop.

Once the hovercrafts were cleared, a team of volunteers were sent to rescue Peeta. Gale was the first to volunteer, you were the second. Despite Wanda’s protests, you had to go. You had to help especially after Katniss had a meltdown. She was just like Annie. You couldn't save but maybe you could save Peeta. You couldn’t help Finnick, but you hoped you could help Katniss.

The mission wasn’t easy. You knew it wouldn’t be. Peacekeepers were everywhere. If you hadn’t had a weapon so special, you don’t think you’d have made it out alive. Getting out of the Capitol was nearly impossible but somehow the team managed to get out with only a couple casualties. When you returned, you had to face the wives and husbands of those that didn’t make it back. You don’t think you’ll ever forget their screams for those they lost. Just another reason to wake up in the middle of the night.

Wanda wouldn’t open the door when you went to visit her. At breakfast the next morning she wouldn’t look at you. At lunch she sat close to you but still refused to address your presence. By dinner, she decided to forgive you for volunteering to go on the possible suicide mission. She hugged your bruised and cut up body and glared at you when you winced.

“You wouldn’t be in pain if you’d of stayed,” she said and you smiled as you kissed her scowl.

“I love you too.” She rolled her eyes as she continued to lean against you. “I told you that I’d always come back.”

Wanda sighed deeply, “I hate that I fell in love with someone that’d risk their life to save the world. But I can’t ask you to stop.” She moved your overgrown hair behind your ear. “That hope in your heart is what made me fall in the first place.”

“You really set yourself up for failure didn’t you?” You asked with a grin as you also moved locks of her hair behind her ear.

“Gag, I’m trying to eat here,” Pietro’s tablet went off and he quickly fumbled with trying to turn it off as you and Wanda laughed.

With Peeta in the infirmary, Katniss began to ignore her schedule. She spent her training hours in his room. She didn’t want him to feel alone since none of his family made it out. A friend of his, Delly Cartwright, did make it to District 13. She was visiting when Katniss wasn’t. Peeta was in terrible shape when he was rescued. It was months before he was well enough to be released and in that time more districts became free from the ruling of the Capitol.

You were only sent to other districts when they wanted to film supplies being distributed to them. To show that District 13 cared. You felt off about it but it kept you off of the frontlines where you could be safe. And since the Mockingjay was refusing to do much outside of helping Peeta back to health, there wasn’t much else expected of the Star Squad. The nickname for the squad of victors that always had the cameras on them.

You would visit Finnick when you could in order to get him to eat after he’d nearly starved himself to death. You were kind and paitient with him until one day you unleashed your frustration with him.

“I’m so sick of your pity party Finnick!” You shouted after he just went on and on about wanting to be dead. “Do you know how much medical supplies they’ve wasted to keep you alive? You’re not even grateful!” You started to pace the room.

“I never asked them to -” he began to shout back.

“Well too damn bad! They did! I promised Annie that I would always be there for you and I’ll be damned if you make me break that promise!”

“She’s dead! What she wanted doesn’t matter anymore!”

“Of course it matters!” You shouted back just as desperate. “Finnick, she loved you. And you loved her! She's gone and you're still here. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. But if you were out there, you would see how selfish you've been! If you had a conversation with ten people here, you'd find out that more than half of them have lost the loves of their lives and they are still fighting!” You shook your head at him. “I've been patient with you but you're pathetic. And I can't keep doing this anymore,” you left the room.

You didn't see him again until a few months later when he walked into the training room. He looked healthier than the last time you'd seen him. Finnick wouldn't go near you but you didn't mind. You preferred that he hated you. It meant he was alive.

“We need something to celebrate,” Plutarch said as he eyed Katniss and Peeta. The two were always seen together. If you spotted one alone, the other wasn't too far behind. You teased her about it during training once and she jabbed you in the ribs with a baton. You stopped teasing her whenever there was a weapon around. “We were thinking of a wedding…” he kept moving his eyes towards the clueless teens.

Katniss shrugged when she felt his eyes on her, “That's not a terrible idea. Who's getting married?” You shook your head as you failed to hide your amusement.

“You're not serious?” You look at Plutarch and Coin. “You're going to force those kids to fake their marriage a second time?”

“Well, seeing as they already claimed-”

“Wait us?” Katniss finally caught up.

“I don't know guys,” Peeta started.

“Hear us out-” Plutarch tried to explain again.

“Ugh, please stop,” Johanna cut in with a roll of her eyes. “It's already been done. We can't keep spinning this broken record. I'd sooner gouge my eyes out than attend their wedding.”

“That's not-” Katniss frowned.

“No one was asking you, Johanna,” Plutarch finally got a full sentence in.

You looked over at Wanda as you considered volunteering. She met your eyes and subtly shook her head. You sighed and turned to the table. “What about Johanna and…” your eyes scanned the room. You smirked as they landed on the glowering raven haired grey eyed man sitting across from Katniss and Peeta. “Gale,” you grinned. “Cressida has said that he has a face for the camera. And come on, what’s more unifying than a miner from Twelve marrying a lumberjack from Seven?” You could have sworn that you saw smoke coming out of Gale's ears. “Shows that we're all the same.”

“That's not a bad idea,” Finnick chimed in.

“Screw you, where'd you come from anyway?” Johanna snapped at her friend.

“I'm just saying, no one would expect it,” Finnick shrugged.

President Coin leaned forward on the table. She looked at each face then she said, “No. It has to be the Mockingjay.”

“Why?” You challenged her.

“Excuse me?” Coin stared at you directly.

“Why does it have to be her? She's a kid,” you doubled down. “If you make them get married, you're no better than Snow.” The room went silent. No one has challenged the president so openly before. They weren't sure what they were supposed to do.

“We'll do it,” Katniss said. “Don't punish Y/n. I've confided in them a lot and they're only trying to protect me.” She defended you. “Which I appreciate,” she turns to address you directly, “but it's not necessary. Besides, what's another fake wedding?” She looked at Peeta who appeared to be very displeased by the news.

“Excuse me,” Peeta rose from his seat and left the room. Katniss stood up and Haymitch stopped her.

“Let him be,” the older man said gruffly. She sat back down as she watched the door.

“Perfect!” Plutarch clapped his hands. “Perfect! We'll get a move on. We only have a couple of weeks to pull this off!” He gathered his notes and walked off with his team.

You didn’t want any part of the fake wedding because it made you uncomfortable. The thought of making the two teenagers continue to put on a show when they still didn't know what they wanted. It also made you look at the president of District 13 differently. When you first arrived, you thought she wanted true change. As you got to work under her for an extended period of time you began to question if she was just as power hungry as Snow was.

Unfortunately, you couldn't stay away from the wedding party. Since District 12’s traditions weren't something that were celebratory or entertaining enough. They are private and intimate. And there isn’t enough in District 13 to spare for a Captiol type wedding. It was too risky to hold it in the woods which is something that comes from the District 7 traditions. Finnick offered up District 4 traditions which are a little more extravagant than District 12 but were doable compared to District 7 and Capitol traditions. That brought on your involvement in the whole endeavor. You kept trying to pass responsibilities off to Finnick but he was having to catch up on training since it’d been close to a year since he was rotting away in the infirmary.

Wanda thought your wedding planning persona was cute. She’d never seen you throw yourself into something so much before. Considering that before the rebellion she only saw you for a few hours every few months, she was happy to learn about any side of you. She kissed your cheek when you were doing a seating chart that made the most sense visually.

“Is this how you'll be when we get married?” Wanda asked as she leaned her head against your shoulder.

“Oh, we're going to get married, are we?” You retorted as you erased a name from the chart and wrote it somewhere else.

Wanda rubbed your other shoulder as she smiled. “Of course we are,” she kisses your cheek again. “I don't join rebellions for just anyone, you know?”

You made a face. “I thought you did this for Pietro.” She walked in front of you and sat on your lap as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

“What happened to him made me realize how unfair the system is and I wished I could do something to change it.” She held your face in her hands and played with your hair as she held your eye contact. You loved getting lost in those enchanting hazel green eyes. “I didn't get involved until the night I realized I loved you. I remember it so vividly, I nearly thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest.” She grabbed your hand and held it over her chest. She shook her head. “You were fast asleep but for a moment I couldn't tell if you were breathing. Then I imagined that you died and just the mere thought,” her eyes teared up and you reached up with your free hand to cradle her face. “I never thought I was capable of loving someone as much as I love you.”

You felt yourself getting choked up by her confession of love. “I, wow,” you reacted with tears on the brim of your eyes. “I had no idea you felt so deeply about me.” You pressed your hand against her chest. “I am lucky that you trust me with your heart.” You leaned your head against hers and closed your eyes. “I hope I'm worth all of this death and destruction to you.”

Wanda nuzzled against you and pulled you closer to her at your words. “You are worth the hope of a brighter future. That's what I'm fighting for.” The two of you held onto each other for a long time. You got lost in the moment with her. You felt your heart beat in time with hers. Even though she didn't want to marry you at the time, you felt as though your souls connected that day as a promise of forever.

At the wedding, everyone read from scripts that Effie and Plutarch wrote together. It was a cheesy and silly wedding. There were moments that made the event feel real. Like when Peeta teared up as Katniss was walked down the aisle by her sister, Primrose. Or when Katniss got choked up and went off script at the start. Not a single word she said was fabricated. Peeta didn't read his lines either.

The unifying kiss lasted a bit longer than it should have. It made you happy to see that Katniss was making a complicated situation a little less complicated. She looked happy. So did Peeta. So did everyone else. The celebration after felt real. People danced and sang. You and Wanda got to have a moment on the dance floor as well. You held her so close as the two of you swayed together at a slow song. You moved with her as the dance became a little more elaborate and the music became upbeat. There was laughter where there used to be quiet whispers. It was a bright occasion.

Which was nice to have the memory of the celebration when the war began to take a turn. The Capitol had yet to be overturned. They began to draft as many able bodied men and women to become Peacekeepers in order to infiltrate the more radicalized districts. Attacking when they least expected.

In Thirteen, they began to release soldiers that passed their final exams to districts the second they passed. At a certain point it began to feel like they rigged the system in order to send the troops out as fast as possible. There were, however, certain soldiers that couldn't leave for a reason or another. Like Pietro was an asset to the war room which they kept him locked away in for the majority of his days. Or if a soldier had a certain medical condition that prevented them from leaving.

You didn't feel that you were ready when you finished your exam but you sat in your living quarters as you stared at your assignment. Wanda walked in after her exam and sat on the bed with you. She laid her head on your shoulder as she frowned down at your papers. “That's what one of those looks like,” she muttered. You made a face as you noticed she was empty handed.

“You're not going on a mission?” You asked as you moved your arm to set your hand on her hip.

“No,” she said as she nuzzled into your side more. “I didn't pass. I, um, I guess they found… something,” she shook her head and pulled away from you. “I have a medical condition that prevents me from going.”

Your eyes widened with fear. “What’s wrong, Wanda? Are you going to be okay?”

Wanda smiled with tears in her eyes, “I'm going to be just fine. Don't you worry about me. I-” She was interrupted by a knock.

Commander Boggs stood at the door with two other soldiers. “I'm here to personally retrieve you. It seems as though the Mockingjay made plans of her own yesterday. We leave in a half hour. Say your goodbyes now.” He stepped away and shut the door as a courtesy.

You turned to Wanda with a pounding heart. You didn't want to leave without knowing that you would be coming back to her. “Wanda, I love you. I can't lose you. Please tell me, this medical condition isn't serious.”

Wanda held both of your hands in hers. “Y/n. I'm fine. I'm better than fine. I will tell you everything when you come back to me. Because you will come back to me, right?”

You nodded and pulled her into a tight hug. Then you kissed her lips and memorized the way her soft lips felt against yours. With your eyes closed, you leaned your forehead against hers and whispered, “I will always come back to you.” You promised just as Boggs knocked on the door to signal that it was time. You pulled your medallion out of your pocket and handed it to Wanda. “This has always been my good luck charm. I want you to have it.” Wanda shook her head but you put it in her hand and closed her fingers into a fist as you stood up to leave. You reminded her that you loved her. She told you that she loved you as tears streamed down her face.

The Star Squad was assembled and meant to be safe from any combat. The group was meant to be filmed not to engage in real battle. The team wasn't even supposed to exist but with Katniss cutting her honeymoon short and sneaking off to the Capitol on her own, Coin was forced to make it look like that was her idea. You couldn't be mad, Katniss wanted Snow dead. Everyone did. But you were a little upset that she didn't include you in the plan once you found out that Peeta and Johanna helped her escape.

The team moved through the rundown Capitol with precaution, using a device nicknamed the Holo. It mapped out and scanned for PODs, which were unpredictable traps planted throughout the streets. You couldn't believe what had become of the once vibrant city. You knew where Wanda’s home was from where you stood, no matter where you were. You remember taking long walks with her through the city during your time with her. The two of you were always in some ridiculous disguise to allow for privacy.

She would race you when she was in a playful mood. The two of you would accidentally knock into others with childish snickers. Other times, you would spot a cheesy gift at one of the many stands at the market. You would buy her something that you knew she'd hate in order to share a laugh then surprise her with something she'd love. You eventually found out that she kept both types of gifts in a box under a floorboard under her bed.

It was one of the signs that let you know she loved you.

You think about her when Homes and Mitchell are blown up. The explosion was loud and had your ears ringing. Gale had to grab you by your vest to get you running as guns were firing. The team ran to hide in three different buildings. Katniss and Gale used their explosive arrows to blow up the Peacekeepers vehicles before they could use their explosives against the Star Squad.

Boggs and Jackson were able to get everyone directed into a single building and reconvene. They agreed that the best course of action was to retreat back to base but Katniss cut in with her personal mission, claiming it was Coin's assignment. “I was sent here to kill Snow. Coin wants us to broadcast the entire thing in order to get the Peacekeepers to surrender,” she wasn't convincing but no one was in a position to argue when the team was closer to the Presidential Mansion than they were to safety.

Boggs didn't challenge her. He agreed to follow her lead. He projected the map of the city to show that the number of PODs had grown. The best chance was underground. Pollux, a former avox turned rebel cameraman and soldier, volunteered his knowledge from the years of experience he had working in the sewer system of the Capitol.

You had to pretend that the water that you sloshed through was the ocean that you once played in as a child. “Thinking about home?” Finnick asked you as he nudged your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you responded, “you?”

He nodded his head, “although this smell isn't making it easy. I miss that sea salt smell. I didn't mind tasting that air.”

“Aw man,” you shook your head as you remembered the crystal blue sea. “When all of this is over, the first thing I'm doing is taking Wanda to Four. She deserves a nice beach day after everything she's been through.”

“I think we all do,” Finnick added. “But don't worry, I won't be too needy when I come along. Not like you were.” His joke hit you harder than it was meant to. It felt like a different life. You invaded Finnick and Annie's home because you couldn't be alone. You joined them on their dates whenever you needed the company. Annie took care of you whenever she was capable of doing so. She was such a great person. She didn't deserve to go the way she did.

“It's okay, I deserve it,” you patted his back. He hugged you from the side while the both of you continued to walk through the sewers. You missed him so much while he was lost. You were happy to have him back. You hoped that one day he would move on because that's what Annie would have wanted.

The team eventually found a dry space to rest for a few hours. You were the first on the watch rotation. You were jumpy. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that warned you. In the moment, you ignored it. When you fell asleep after you woke up Boggs, you continued to ignore the feeling.

Then you woke up to screams and being shoved. Katniss was shoving you awake. Everyone ran out of the dry space and ran through the tunnels as they were chased by mutts. You tried to shoot at the mutts but you couldn't slow down enough to aim. Directions were being shouted out and in the hysteria the team members that weren't being mauled by the faceless creatures ran into an area that was meant for maintenance workers. Several of them ran up a ladder to escape. Just as Katniss was about to climb, a creature took her down which sent you and Peeta running to her rescue. Finnick was shouting from the opening for everyone to hurry.

With your trident you were able to fend off the creatures in front of you but it was Johanna that managed to protect you from behind. Katniss and Peeta managed to get the creatures away from them with Gale's help as well as yours and Johanna's. Katniss ran up the ladder first, followed by Peeta, then Johanna. It was you and Gale that were next when another wave of mutts came rushing through. You tried to climb up as fast as you could to allow Gale the time to climb but both of you were caught by the wave. Just as you were being pulled up by Peeta, your legs were caught by a mutt and had you dragged back down.

If it hadn't been for your special trident, you wouldn't have made it out of the sewers alive. You managed to save what was left of Gale. His right leg was shredded and gushing blood. The two of you crawled through the tunnels together and managed to catch up with what was left of the team. Katniss looked relieved but the feeling didn't last long as a bullet fired and hit Gale in the head. You had been the one holding him up as it happened. His blood and his brains painted your face.

“Run!” You shouted as more Peacekeepers appeared. Katniss was in shock, you had to grab her as you ran through the parking garage. Deadly light beams flashed from the ceiling at random. The first one took down Messalla. He turned to dust as fast as the light touched him. “Run!” You screeched at the top of your lungs again as the floor shredded behind the Leeg sisters. Leeg 2 tripped over herself and fell into the blades. Leeg 1 turned as she heard her sister's cries, that split second of hesitation took her life.

Finally, the lights stopped as did the blades and the remaining members of the Star Squad were running out of the death trap and into the dark streets of the Capitol. There were digital and physical posters everywhere of the rebels' faces, including yours and the other former victors. There didn't seem to be a place to hide. The adrenaline coursing through your veins had you jumping at every sound as you tried to think of where to hide.

“I know where we are,” Cressida said breathlessly, “I know where to go.” She guided the team to a clothing shop. A woman with tiger-like features answered the door and rushed everyone inside. She brought the team of rebels into the basement. You took careful steps as you observed the space with your weapon drawn. Cressida, Castor, and Pollux were already standing around the basement. When you deduced that it was safe, you collapsed on the last step.

You woke up with a gasp of air, startled by the delicate touch of the woman that was hosting you. She had been stitching a gash on your bicep when you woke up. You frowned as she retreated. You knew her but you couldn't remember how before you slipped back into unconsciousness. The adrenaline had deserted your body, leaving it exhausted without an ounce of energy.

“Wanda,” you muttered as you felt someone cradling your face in their hands. You leaned into the touch and forced your eyes open, anxious to see the love of your life. It was Johanna that you saw instead. She was wiping your face with a wet cloth. “Oh, it's you,” you muttered as you shut your eyes again.

“Shut up, you know you're happy to see me,” she said softly as she continued to clean your face. “Finnick made it. So did the two love birds. Cressida and her bugs are alive too,” she quietly informed you.

You tried to swallow a lump forming in your throat but the emotions hit you too hard to hide them. “I couldn't save him,” you said through your tears. Johanna nodded as she continued to clean Gale's blood from your face with a frown as tears built up in her eyes. She cared about you a lot and it hurt her to see you fall apart like that. You stopped crying and sat up as you felt guilty for the display of emotion when everyone in the room had lost people. You weren't even close with Gale. It just sucked with how hard you fought to keep him alive and just when you thought you had, he was gone before you or anyone could do anything.

You looked around the room and saw Finnick cleaning the blades of his trident. Cressida, Pollux, and Castor were tinkering with an old model of a Capitol television. Katniss and Peeta were holding each other as they slept. Her nose was red and her cheeks were stained with tears. You were certain were shed for the loss of her former hunting partner and best friend.

“When do you think we'll continue?” You asked Johanna with a mouth full of a sandwich she'd handed you.

She took a slow breath as she considered her answer. “When the next opportunity presents itself. We're in too deep to turn back now.” You nodded as you chewed.

Pollux cheered as he managed to repair the television. A mandatory broadcast that invited all Capitol citizens to Snow's mansion gave the opportunity to infiltrate the mansion. But it was only safe for two people to go. You were the first to volunteer. Katniss was the second. Peeta protested but Katniss was able to convince him that it had to be her. His prosthetic leg was broken, he couldn't take your place even if Katniss wasn't able to talk him down. Finnick almost talked you out of going but he didn't see the point.

“When Wanda asks, I tried to take your place,” Finnick said as he helped you get dressed up.

“Oh if I ever tell her this story, you did take my place,” you joked. He patted your shoulder as he agreed with a grin. He adjusted the holster with the trident inside so that it was still hidden but gave you easy access. Then he handed you a stolen Peacekeeper rifle and helped you hide it under the heavy coat. “If this goes south, tell her I'm sorry and that I love her,” you told Finnick with fear in your eyes.

Finnick sighed, “Things will go south if you think like that.”

“Promise me that you'll tell her,” you stated firmly. He agreed to deliver the message. “And make sure that when all of this is over and we come out on top that she is taken care of. If they still give us our winnings, make sure she gets mine. And that she can have my place in Four. Make sure that you disable all of the bugs,” you speak urgently as if you don't tell him these things now, no one will ever know your last wishes.

“Y/n,” Finnick looked you in the eye with worry, “Should I take your place? You have a life to start after this. I don't. Maybe I should-”

“There's no time,” Tigris warned as she rushed away from the windows. “You and Katniss have to leave now.”

You nodded and turned back to Finnick, “I'll be fine I just want to make sure that Wanda is taken care of just in case.” Finnick nodded as he agreed to ensure that Wanda was taken care of.

“But you're going to come back, and you're going to take care of her yourself, okay?” Finnick encouraged as he hugged you. You closed your eyes as you stood in his arms before you stepped away and turned to see Katniss and Peeta saying their goodbyes. They shared a kiss and you looked away as you felt like you were imposing in a private moment.

“Katniss, we better go,” you said as you put your hood over your head. She nodded as she stepped away from her twice faux husband.

Together, the two of you walked out into the crowded street. You kept your head down enough to not get noticed but not so much to have your view obstructed. You and Katniss got pretty close to the gates, it made your heart pound so hard that you could hardly hear anything. But with each step closer, you grew more confident that you'd be able to pull this off. Then you saw Peacekeepers were pulling hoods down. In a panic, you and Katniss turned around only to find more soldiers pulling hoods down. So you both turned back towards the pit before the gate where they were separating children from their parents.

You lost your confidence as you couldn't figure out where to go from there. You were both trapped. Then guns started firing. “It's the rebels!” Someone shouted and you pushed Katniss ahead of you to get her closer to the gates. Your hood fell and Peacekeepers charged towards you. With all of the innocent civilians around, you didn't want them to get caught in the crossfire so you dropped the rifle and pulled out the trident.

You fought off the Peacekeepers as you saw rebel trucks rolling through the crowd. A small boy ran up to you and kicked you in the knee as you fought off Peacekeepers. The small distraction allowed a Peacekeeper to get the upper hand on you as he took your trident from you and tried to stab you through the chest with it. But because of the programming that Tony and Beetee did to the weapon, the blade disappeared before it could harm you and the part of the staff that he was holding heated until he dropped the weapon. You caught the trident as it fell and stabbed him through the chest.

You pulled it out and rushed to find Katniss when everyone stopped as Capitol hovercrafts loomed over the pit of children and dropped parachutes as if they were gifts from sponsors. The children reached out to them in excitement. You had just found Katniss when the parachutes exploded.

The two of you fell back and you hit your head hard on a broken piece of concrete. Everything went to black as you heard nothing but screams.

When you woke up, you were in a hospital. It was white and bright. You'd been in there before but not in District 13. This was the hospital in the Capitol. Your heart picked up with fear until you realized that your hand was being held by Wanda as she slept in a chair by your bedside.

Your heart rate on the monitor slowed down as you calmed. You wiggled your fingers to try and bring circulation back to them. As you did, you felt the familiar shape of your medallion pressing against the palm of your hand. Wanda sat up as she felt you move. “Oh thank goodness!” She cheered as she finally saw your eyes open. She leaned in and kissed on the mouth then she leaned her forehead against yours with closed eyes. “You came back to me,” she whispered.

“I promised, didn't I?” You replied with a raspy voice.

She laughed through the tears that started to fall in her relief. “You can't make that promise again because you're never leaving my side again. Do you hear me? Never,” she demanded as she pulled back to look at you. Her eyes danced as they scanned your features. “Our child needs you almost as much as I do,” she said in a broken whisper.

“Our what?” Your eyes widened at the news and then it clicked for you. That's the condition she was in that she couldn't leave Thirteen on assignment for. Wanda nodded as she wiped her tears.

“We can talk more after the doctor sees you,” she said as she hit a button on the wall. You couldn't believe the news. You couldn't believe that the rebels had won. You had no idea that when you were knocked out by the concrete that you would be waking up in a new and free world. It was not how you saw the war ending, but you didn't mind. You were happy it was over.

The rebels won but President Coin didn't. She wanted to implement a version of the Hunger Games with only Capitol children. Any child born in the Capitol or from a female Capitol citizen would be eligible in the first reaping. First. That word led you to believe that there would be future games. That made your future child eligible. You voted against it. But unfortunately, the votes for it outweighed those against. You hadn't realized that Katniss was angry about the loss of her sister until you heard about Prim’s death.

Then at the ceremony where she was supposed to shoot President Snow with an arrow, her aim went a bit higher and instead pierced President Coin in the heart with her arrow. A rush of people fled towards the stage to aid Coin as she fell to the front of it. Snow laughed himself to death as he choked on his own blood. Katniss was about to eat a nightlock pill before Peeta took it from her. She was then taken into custody. You couldn't see her for days while a committee discussed her fate.

You did speak to her character when the committee brought you in for questioning. In the footage of the day, they caught a moment between the two of you when she looked at you and you looked away with a disappointed expression. They used that to accuse you of knowing that she planned on killing the president. You revealed Coin’s shocking plans for the future Capitol Games. You didn't go into the details of the disagreement, you only revealed that there was one.

She was sent to District 12 on conditions that you weren't clear on because they were highly confidential. But there were rumors. When you got the chance, you visited her to find out what she was thinking when she voted to have a new version of the Hunger Games and what she was thinking when she shot Coin instead of Snow. You had so many questions for her. But, when you found her in her home you decided that it didn't matter what her motivations were. She was lost in her grief. Peeta lived in the home he was awarded after their games and he said that he checked on her when she allowed it but there wasn't much else he could do for her other than keep her alive until she was ready to live again.

You thanked him and offered your support whenever he or she needed it. Then you returned to District 4. There, you and Wanda were helping the district rebuild. She loved it in the district more than either of you thought she would. She was able to bond with the community better than she did when she was in the Capitol. Even her twin brother, Pietro, found a life for himself in District 4.

The two of you didn't marry until after the baby was born. Well, babies. Wanda gave birth to Tommy and Billy in the new District 4 hospital that you helped build with a team of men and women and other non-gender conforming persons. They were the first boys to be born in the new world. The first baby to be born after the war was over was a girl. She was born a couple of months before the twins were born.

You cried as you held your sons in your arms. Not only because there were so many close calls that almost prevented you from experiencing the moment. But because without the war, without the games, without all of the hardships, those boys wouldn't exist. You never thought that you'd ever be grateful for the suffering you endure until you held your boys and thought of them as the reward.

For the wedding Pietro and Johanna each carried one of the babies. Johanna was your best woman and Pietro was Wanda’s man of honor. Each baby had a ring that was attached to a pillow. Finnick officiated the ceremony. Many were in attendance, including a much healthier Katniss and Peeta. You attended their own private wedding ceremony a few years later. Surprisingly, a sober Haymitch Abernathy with a ring on his marital finger and a smile as he sat next to his wife, Effie Trinket. She didn't think Effie Abernathy had the same ring to it. Your wedding wasn't televised and you were grateful for the privacy as you and Wanda celebrated the union with the people that mattered in your lives. It wasn't a show for strangers to tune into or to be inspired by. It was just a fun night that celebrated love.

Life was good.

But life wasn't good throughout the entire country. There were still people that weren't entirely happy with the changes that were being implemented. People were losing jobs. Not everyone had a home to return to and those that did had expected an upgrade for their troubles. Things weren't moving at the pace that everyone wanted. You carried a guilt for having such a peaceful life that you chose to get involved in anyway that you could.

“I have to go to the Capitol next week,” you sighed as you told Wanda with a frown while you laid with her in bed.

“What for?” She asked as she sat up.

“I have to meet with the head of the housing department to discuss a few things and offer my help,” you stated vaguely, you were tired and comfortable. You hardly had the energy to go into detail.

“You have to be careful when you're there, I've heard that crime rates are high right now,” Wanda warned as she settled back against you. “Apparently there’s a group of former Peacekeepers that weren't too happy about losing their positions of power. They've been targeting people from the districts that live in or even visit the Capitol.”

“Please, I've survived an arena and a rebellion. I can handle a bunch of bigots,” you muttered. “But I hear you,” you kissed her cheek. “I'll be careful,” you promised with your eyes closed. “I love you,” you whispered as you started to fall asleep.

Visiting the Capitol opened your eyes to how bad things had gotten there. It wasn’t the lively city it once was. It looked like any other district before the rebellion and before the rebuilds and renovations. You only saw so much from the back window of the vehicle you were being driven in. But it was more than enough to get your guard up. Your meeting went well with the woman in charge of the housing and other restorations throughout the districts. She was very receptive to your idea’s on the kinds of houses that people should be living in as well as the kinds of fundraising efforts that can be done and the jobs that could be made in each district. She loved the proposal you had put together and when the meeting was over, she invited you out to celebrate. You should have declined but you knew how important networking was for the project. She brought you to one of the more high end bars in the Capitol. The buildings that surrounded the bar were covered in tags and there were tents for the homeless across the street. You couldn't believe it had gotten so bad.

As you celebrated with the woman, she introduced you to prospective investors. You chatted with many people throughout the night until you were ready to leave. But when you stepped out, the car you called for wasn't there. You looked around confused and that's when someone snuck behind you and pulled a sack over your head.

You fought against them but more people came along. You couldn't see which made it difficult to tell how many people there were as you tried to fight them off without a weapon. Which one of them had. They hit the front of your knee hard enough to have you collapse to the ground. You were almost certain that they had shattered your kneecap. The group of them kicked and hit you from every direction until you stopped moving.

Two of them lifted you up by your arms and dragged you to a truck. They drove you to the center of the city and strapped your wrists against the new Mockingjay statue. They burned the old Capitol emblem into your abdomen, then they left you to be found in the morning.

By the time they brought you down from the statue, there was no saving you.

Finnick found out from the news that morning. He ran over to your house to try and stop Wanda from turning on the television but he was too late. He walked into the home and found her screaming on the floor as her brother held her. The image of you hanging on the Mockingjay statue was still on the screen. Finnick dropped to his knees and cried into his hands.

Johanna found out in the home of a woman she'd met the night before. She ran out and got on the first train to Four to find out if the broadcast was just a scare tactic. It was the only thing the news showed all day. But she kept telling herself that it didn't even look like you. That it had to be a fake doll or something. But when she got to Four and found the home of distraught loved ones, she had to accept what she refused to believe. You were gone for good. Your six-year-old boys ran up to her with scared and confused expressions. They didn't know yet. She took them to their room to distract them until she could find out what Wanda was planning to do.

Peeta was in the hospital when he found out. He asked the nurse to shut off the broadcast while Katniss slept. He shed silent tears as he held their daughter. He was supposed to call you the day before to tell you the news but he thought it couldn't hurt to wait a day. He didn't inform Katniss of your brutal passing until she was discharged from the hospital the next day. She was furious about the delay.

Haymitch read about the incident in the newspaper. He sat up in his lounge chair, getting ready to tell Effie but she walked into the living room with a tear streaked face and fell into his lap. The older couple held each other tight as they mourned the tragic loss of their friend.

President Paylor wasn't putting up with the violence in the country from that point. It wasn't the way you imagined making a difference, but your death was not in vain. It opened the eyes to the public and to the government how society was failing. How things hadn't changed enough. Harsh laws were implemented to put a stop to the hate crimes that were being done throughout the country. Rewards were given to those that turned in the murders that committed the acts. It was a sort of witch hunt but the end result was a peaceful Panem.

When it came to finding the group of people that murdered you, it took a couple years longer than your wife liked. There was a trial. And when they were appointed guilty, Wanda put in the request to be the one to take their lives. It was denied. She wasn't allowed to attend their execution. Finnick did, for her. She needed to hear that they were gone for good from someone she trusted.

When he returned to Four that night, he confirmed that each of the people had been executed. Wanda broke down and cried in his arms because it didn't change anything for her. You were still gone. She was still angry.

“You should have promised to come back to me,” she whispered to your grave stone as she kneeled in front of it. “You always came back when you made that promise.” She weaved your medallion between her fingers as she spoke. The action made her feel close to you. She watched you do it for many years. She thought she'd watch you do it for the rest of her life. Although you would have loved to have more time with her, you were grateful for the time that you did have with her. Because your death made a safer Panem for her and your loved ones.

Though significant sacrifices were made, in the end, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing.

Or would you?

The Tribute

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff au #the hunger games #hunger games au #marvel x hunger games #wanda maximoff fanfiction #hunger games fanfiction #katniss and peeta #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #messedupfan

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sandsucks · 1 year

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i finally watched tristamp!! refer to the picture under the cut to understand my complete thoughts and feelings :)

#my friend came over the other day. realized i never watched tristamp. yelled at me. and came back yesterday to force me to watch w her.#we finished it today and are now even more mentally ill about this franchise than we were before.#there are so many thoughts i cannot articulate bc it’s all screaming. but i really liked this show the choices they made were different but #they worked out w the way they want to take the story. i will say though i miss feral vash. his self sacrificing kindness broke me in #this version. it really hurts in the manga too but like he’s just. so deeply sad.#and he tries so hard not to show it but he’s also not very good at hiding it #he’s good at hiding it in the older versions and i think that when he does break after holding it in for too long #the emotions are so raw. and they hurt so bad.#in tristamp those hidden feelings aren’t hidden so the sadness lingers in every scene you know. drove my friend and i insane actually #i’m looking forward to see how they show him growing w his emotions in the second season!!! eriks is coming!!!!!!!!! my most favorite dude!#apologies for the rant there is a lot on my mind LOL if there are mistakes ignore them i am but a little guy #trigun #tristamp

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luxrayz64 · 1 year

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I saw a post a while back responding to criticism of botw as being "a good game but not a good zelda game", and they responded with how the Zelda Formula was getting tired and stale and botw was a response to that, that it was meant to harken back to the original zelda game where it just drops you in and it makes you find everything on yr own. which like is fine and good and all but. you do know that the original zelda had 8 full unique (as unique as they could be on the nes) dungeons right. the original zelda game had dungeon items. they didn't need to take out one of zeldas defining gameplay aspects and replace it with the fundamentally inferior shrines and divine beasts. you can make a game non linear and refresh its gameplay without taking out one of the series' strongest aspects.

#I saw it ages ago and haven't really stopped thinking about it #there's no way you can ever try to tell me that shrines r superior to dungeons no way #shrines are short. dull. all use the same assets and same theming. theres no room to work on and develop concepts #some concepts r developed across multiple shrines but bc the order you find shrines in is different every time it still doesnt work #divine beasts r fucking disappointing. they're the actual dungeons but they're abt as long as a mini dungeon and as boring as the shrines #they at least have the set pieces of taking place on giant moving mechs going for them. but inside they're all the same #the bosses are visually all the same #you can make a good zelda game w only four dungeons majoras mask is RIGHT THERE. but mm also has sidequests and a strong story and #strong characters that aren't already dead that you actually give a shit about #romani ranch and the. I can't remember his name. kafe or whatever the fuck his quest was so interesting #the only quest botw has that comes anywhere near as close to it in quality is tarrey town and the actual GAMEPLAY side of that quest is-#just chop down trees and gather x amount of wood #like multiple people I know who played botw didn't even want to actually fight the final boss/only fought the final boss out of boredom #that's not good!!!! when people aren't invested enough in your story to even fucking beat it that's not a good sign!!!!!#mmmmm don't get me wrong. botw is a good game. it's fun to explore and traverse that world. its physics and chemistry systems r insane #but this is why people say it's a good game but not a good zelda game bro 😭 I want more than 2 types of dungeons #botw is a game im very conflicted on I think it's fascinating. but I've only played it thru fully once #anytime I try to come back to it it can never really regain my attention fully #some of that absolutely has to do with adhd but some of that also has to do with the fact that it's not a rewarding game to play-#for me after a certain point. I've seen everything there is to see and that's really the only compelling thing it offers #ocarina of time and twilight princess and majoras mask all offer me cool boss fights and compelling stories #THAT'S a reason to come back. botw I think I need another 5 years to forget everything about it before I can come back #that last point has more to do with me than an inherent problem with the game #... but it's still the only game in the series (that I've played) that has that problem #again. I like botw. it was phenomenal the first 200 hours. I hope tok is more like what I want from a zelda game though #need to stop putting the entire post in the tags goddamn #espeon cries

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bo0zey · 2 years

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thinking abt how i’m already a chronic maladaptive daydreamer w a sensitive sidereal pisces moon in the 8th house and having access to klonopin is like a forcefield of protection for my brain and body it’s only times like these i feel safe enough to come out of hiding and glide around the real world for a little bit before the drugs wear off and i dive back into my other multi universes and try to experience life through them instead except but lately it’s gotten harder and i think it’s because i’ve been so out of touch with reality for so long that i got stuck in this weird state of writer’s purgatory i used to be able to draw so much inspiration for my characters and story plots from the real world but now it’s blanks ……..i need 2 go outside n touch grass or smthing how do i feel connected to myself and the world again i don’t want to but i think that’s the reason why i can’t write anymore as much as i try…i spent >17hrs a day trying to organize 4 different stories at a time my brain is scattered im losing hope and motivation all over again …. alllll over again!!

#also i would like 2 add that pisces + drugs r Not a good combo bc pisces are already prone to escapism #finding out i’ve been a sidereal pisces moon all along rlly changed a lot for me like when i’m actively present in reality my aries moon #she’s like grrrrr emotional rampage chaos like the aries moon sun stereotype??? no bb that ones for the Moon lmao #i hate the term maladaptive daydreaming i feel like everyone uses it like haha im so quirkyy but like #ok listen i’m not trying to put myself on a pedestal if anything their comments just make me want to invalidate my own feelings anymore #i’ve been told i struggle w imposter syndrome i didn’t like when my therapist told me that it didn’t make me feel any more validated #i felt like she was lying to placate me #i wish i could’ve taken up writing in a healthier coping mechanism way but instead i let it take over everything my entire world #i could’ve graduated college w a way better gpa n shit but no i wasted hours writing instead of assignments and still i have nothing to show #maladaptive daydreaming ruined my life i want to cry i can’t believe im saying this when i condisdered it my safe space for so long #my sanctuary my garden of eden what have i done i feel like i just ate fruit from the tree of knowledge and now i see i realize i was never #i was never safe anywhere . my stories entrapped me i lost all my friends bc i liked the ones in my head so much better #now i’m alone and lost and stuck between 2 worlds i can’t believe how i used to write 30 diff works in progress at one point i had ideas #now i’m stuck in a cycle of recycling new and old ideas there’s nothing new i get lost and confused i’ve entangled myself in this web #this story web!! haha lol #idk what im saying im going to shut up now my brains foggy #i have an idea but it’s not appropriate for tumblr so im gonna write it down in my dumb journal #ramblings

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fuzzyunicorn · 5 days

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To continue the tag: that is our blessing from Him for our endurance thru sufferment without a single complaint or a cry of pain, for obeying him without question, showing up and showing out every day, and especially for our actions of refusing to harm them in return. He commanded me twice to retaliate & bc I never did we passed our tests and will be blessed to the maximum so ask away for anything you🖤 want my love you🖤 deserve it and will receive it. He said the only thing we did to them was make their true colors bleed out in the wash, so expose them for who they truly are. Vengeance is His says the Lord and a-fucking-men 2 that. God bless you 2 all the law enforcement (not the crooks) and a massive thank you

#sweet man* sweet sweet honey bear 🍯 🐻#u🖤 my love r the only 1 who matters 2 me & I can’t wait 4 our new beginning can’t wait 2 show u🖤 the love n care #you deserve 2 experience devotion won’t ever make u🖤 jump thru flaming hoops like past people u🖤 have my complete and unconditional #love forever & always in each lifetime & I’d die 4 u🖤 like in our past lives #u🖤 deserve the world and I’m going 2 hand-deliver u🖤 my promise each & everyday #we’ve been put thru Hell n back without complaint n we’ll get our compensation bc what we’ve had 2 endure these past few months is insane #I don’t know any1 who has had to deal w what we’ve had 2 deal w but regardless it’s done nothing but sling-shot us together & together we #shall b no matter who wants 2 keep us apart or what they r willing 2 do 2 keep us apart (insane & illegal & immoral &#unethical methods of chaos) it’s over now the feds r closing in on the entire group now & protective/restraining orders r being issued 2 us #& our families agaisnt The Crazies. it’s over now & being more than handled 4 us #apparently the feds don’t want us in the courtroom w them & God has instructed me 2 never help them spiritually & the feds apparently agree #we’re leaving The Crazies in Crazy Town where they belong & God said he’s going 2 keep it that way (babe they apparently want 2 reach out 2 #me so I’ll save them from the mess they created & they want me 2 tell every1 this has just been 1 little misunderstanding they want me 2 #wipe their slates clean and proclaim they did nothing wrong… yeah stay the fuck away from us permanently) I’ve never met people who r #willing 2 go to such extreme lengths when they r in the wrong. moral of the story is God and the feds r keeping them away from us bc they r #completly unhinged so rest assured they r permanently blocked from accessing us physically mentally emotionally spiritually etc so let’s #heal from this together and one day this bs will just b a distant memory our soul ties 2 them have been #severed completely we were supposed to have another life w them present so they could atone 4 their wrongdoings & God said since it’s been #so severe & they won’t stop so he’s decreed this is both of ours last life w them present in any capacity & we will never have 2 c them or #their families or friends in heaven or any of our next infinite lifetimes I thank God 4 that they’ve hurt us thru many lifetimes & their #chances 2 fix it r now done and they’ll never get another chance 2 hurt us or our children or loved ones again. God is good & God is great #thank u & amen 2 that!#God & the feds r both saying they aren’t sorry 4 what they’ve done 2 us they have no remorse they r just sorry they got caught but more so #exposed & they blame me 4 quote making them do what they did it’s been noticed they take zero accountability 4 their own actions & words #so rest assured even tho they don’t want 2 be done harassing us the feds & the divine r working together 2 stopping them (they apparently #2 stress me out so bad when u🖤 get me pregnant it makes me lose our babies) so I’m thankful for the law enforcement & 2 God n his Divine #for putting an end to this saga #God wants me 2 conclude w all the things they’ve done 2 us & continue (she won’t stop trying 2 kill me or get me 2 kill myself) 2 do its al #being returned 2 sender & each misdeed against us is another blessing He will grant to u🖤 and I so this is genuinely and truly working out #in our favors in every way He wants u🖤 2 think of all the things u🖤 want 4 us & URSELF (ur🖤 so selfless!) He will grant it all asap that is

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desertdragon · 4 months

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T/////Eight story amounted to basically nothing so I guess I'm back here to the other stupid as shit game I give too many chances on a more full time basis again (minus still writing my As///u/////Lil////i fic I love that thing too much and people in my DMs are counting on me for more)

At least I'll always have my friend and her best ending

And her faggot

EDIT: Ok it was nonsensical and full of holes like swiss cheese but now that i've calmed down this was always a goofy silly dumb game that cares less about taking itself seriously as it does being cool and fun, so while im disappointed and im allowed to be disappointed, im not running away with my expectations on this like others have. Tekken is still fun and will always have a place in my heart. And I do appreciate receiving some things I've always wanted regardless of my upsets with their execution flaws. They were finally able to make me feel like my favorite characters have closure on some level regardless, and that has to be commended.

#devastated. i'm devastated. the one time i was hoping Bamco would give us a decently written feast without shitting the bed #on the one hand i'm a fool for thinking they'd ever not write utter nonsense on the other hand i did get a handful of things i wanted #and i'm ok w going back to not really taking it seriously but it feels like even when i got things i wanted or liked #the WAY they were given to me was so shit i almost wish i got nothing #also this game has the best Asuka ending for once but that's such a low bar- it's the only ending where she's finally happy #god it wasn't even a story it was a skeleton of a script with ten different ppl working in separate rooms only coming out sometimes #to keep Jin on track and even with him as lead he got half baked shit- ALSO JUN??? JUN??? THE WAY THEY DROPPED THE JUN BALL #THE WAY WE GOT NEW CHARACTERS BUT NONE WERE LEGIT EXPLAINED OR GIVEN BACKSTORY? aaaaaughgghghhghghggh #telling everyone here bc i can't put spoilers on my main dash rn since it's not officially out for all platforms yet the PS5 ppl got theirs #and they streamed/posted all the cutscenes and character episodes days early so i saw it on youtube bc im impatient #i know none of you here give a shit lmao #ALSO THE MAIN BRANCH OF THE ******** FAMILY BEING REVEALED AS WIPED OUT BUT ASUKA HAS NOTHING TO SAY ABT IT- HARADDAAAAAAA #it's a fun game to play as a fighting game but dear god anything else you're in the trenches THE TRENCHES #i'm still arguing w myself if i'm gonna buy it once the recent global strike for Palestine is over or if i wait for a steam sale #once again collecting the less than ten things i like abt something and mourning the rest #this is my asuka alt in the pic btw I'll always love asuka goofy or serious but damn girl... I'm so sorry #i liked the ending of T8 but how we got there is borderline nonsensical and contrived #and at the expense of consistent character depth for pretty much anyone #EDIT: YES IM DISAPPOINTED BUT- this has always been The Goofy Game and i accept that now and yes i got things i loved and i love them #this is a game that has never taken itself seriously before anything else- which isn't the same as a serious game dropping the ball ie. FF #so in the end i'm mixed! i have what i don't like and what i think was missed- but i like it for what it is and i LOVE Asuka's potential #i love that in this game Asuka is finally at some form of peace regardless of the holes in the execution

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macfrog · 1 month

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sweet child o' mine | pt. iv

to @mrsmando - without whom this insane story would never have happened in the first place. i love you i love you i love you thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me - it has been a blast. i hope you like where we turn out! love you guys always n forever x

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you're a mom. it's time to get your shit together.

warnings: bon jovi mention straight out the gate, labor/delivery [i have never given birth. those of you who have are nothing short of remarkable. please forgive if some of this is a little inaccurate or vague], use of pain medication during birth, description of pain and post-birth recovery, super emotional reader, unprotected piv, oral, alcohol consumption. DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there’s ever anything you feel i’ve missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 12k

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

It’s September twenty-third.

Well, by now, it��s probably the twenty-fourth. You’ve been a little distracted, rolling between the sheets with your next-door neighbor for the last couple hours.

The wedding’s still going strong downstairs. The same Bon Jovi song has played three times over. Tommy has called Joel to ask where he is so much that Joel’s phone is now switched off and shoved to the bottom of his bag.

You’re slouched on the toilet in a sliver of moonlight. A fistful of tissue, panties loose around your ankles. Rolling your forehead side to side along the cool tile, heartbeat hammering between your temples.

Joel Miller – Joel fucking Miller – is in your bed. Naked, sweating, cock probably still half-hard.

This morning, the very idea of the man was an eyeroll. Stood in your mirror, promising yourself that this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over with.

This time in a month, it’ll be a foggy memory.

This time in a year, it –

His voice is muffled through the bathroom door. “Did you fall in, or somethin’?”

You snort. The milky moon blurs across your vision when you pull yourself upright. You swipe between your legs and stand, flushing the toilet.

“I needed a fucking breather,” you tease, tiptoeing back across the room.

Joel’s stretched out; a worked arm draped along the headboard. Sun-kissed to the middle of his bicep, paler across his shoulder. One leg bare on the mattress, the other under the sheets. They only just cover his modesty – dark hair trailing beneath light silk just in time.

He’s so big. It’s like you never really noticed until now. He takes up half the bed, laying like this. And sure, you’re halfway to fucked, but – has he always been so handsome?

You flop down beside him with a sigh, curling up in the burrow of sheets at his side. Your eyes trail up his body – the sheen of sweat up his side, the dark, damp hair under his arm. All the parts of him you’ve never seen before, will never see again.

You gulp. Quit fucking staring.

He doesn’t notice, anyway. He’s rubbing circles into his temples, grumbling. “How many goddamn times are they gonna play It’s My Life?”

“…for Tommy and Gina…” you nudge him, “…who never backed down…”

Joel chuckles, pulling his hand down his beard. “Twenty bucks says he’s changing that to Maria.”

“Oh, for sure. I ain’t going back down to listen to it, though.”

He hums in agreement, reaching over for his beer. His Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks.

“You owe me, by the way. This is my room, remember? My fucking minibar.”

He pauses, the bottle against his bottom lip. His eyes linger south of your chin before he answers, “I’m paying for the damn room.”

“Then I want a drink from yours. Make it even.”

He clicks his teeth and drinks again. “It’s one beer. Call it an early birthday gift.”

You frown. “When the hell’s your birthday?”

“Tuesday.”

“Bullshit.”

“Serious. The twenty-sixth.”

You push yourself up onto your elbows; chest bare and on display. And it’s a strange feeling, how little you care. Twelve hours ago, you didn’t know how close to sit next to him at the ceremony. How many times you could accidentally bump knees or brush elbows and it not be weird.

But in the last two hours, he’s made you come more times than you can count. More times than anyone you’ve ever been with before – that’s for sure. And you’ve repaid the favor: the proof is still dribbling out of you. Still dripping between your legs, all pearlescent and warm. You’re soaked, swollen, still sore from the size of him.

It’s a fucking strange feeling, that you don’t mind at all.

“How old are you turning?” you ask.

Joel swallows. He settles the beer on his sternum, thumbing the corner of the label. Sucks in a deep breath and says, “Forty-eight.”

“Jesus,” you mutter, eyes wide.

He turns slowly, glaring at you. “Hilarious,” he drawls, bumping the bottle against your tummy.

You hiss at the sudden chill. Wiping cold droplets from your skin, you swipe it from his grasp.

Joel pushes himself from the bed with a quiet groan and pads across the room. His cock sways with each step, an arrowhead of thick hair at its base.

He doesn’t seem to mind, either.

You tip your chin back, taking a hefty swig.

The pulsing bass is heavier, guitar squeal sharper, when he cracks open the window. Cool air sweeps past the scent of sex and settles softly on your skin.

The mattress dips again as Joel settles back into bed. He pulls the sheet over himself, silk falling over the stubborn shape against his thigh.

“Well,” you pass him the bottle, “happy birthday, old man. Here’s to forty-eight.”

“Here’s to forty-eight,” Joel echoes, staring off into space, “and whatever the hell it has in store.”

1:29. 1:29. 1:30.

It’s blurring across your vision. The pain and the panic and the blinking of your fucking alarm clock.

Your stomach is still tensed in the aftermath of the contraction; an ache like the slow sway of the ocean, a wave rolling off into the distance. You’re hunched over the edge of the bed – knee bouncing, palms kneading your round belly.

“We’re okay,” you whisper, blowing into the still night. “We’re fine. Maybe it isn’t labor, right? Maybe it’s just those…Braxton…shit…Hicks.”

The cicadas laugh as your uterus swings again.

Another kick of pain; a bolt that winds you, piercing from your stomach down between your legs. So slow it feels fucking personal.

Your back curls, nails digging into the mattress. You grit your teeth until it passes, then push yourself to your feet, reaching for your phone.

You think of Joel: the flecks of gold in his eyes, the rough surface of his palms. The fresh, woodsy scent woven into every thread on his shirt, seeping from every pore on his skin.

The way he’d pull you under his arm and walk you to his truck. Play more Eagles or whatever shit he has to take your mind off the pain – tell you he knows, he knows as you whimper in agony. The way he’d hold your thigh the entire ride, loosening it only to weave his fingers through yours.

He’s in Houston, though. He’s something like three hours away. There’s nothing he could do, even if you did call – even if he did pick up. Even if he got in his truck right this second.

Shit. Shit fuck shit. How are you in labor right now, on this fucking night? All your teasing, all your taunting the universe. You really think that’s gonna happen? You think your kid’s that much of an asshole?

Yeah. They’re half you.

You’re on your own. It’s nothing new; you’ve been on your own for most of your life. You drove yourself to college, worked your ass off, and sold your graduation guest tickets to your roommate. You found a job by yourself, moved back to Austin and turned it into home by yourself.

You haven’t needed anyone or anything, since you were eighteen.

But – oh, Jesus, fuck it. This was a two-man job from the start. Some things you figure you can let slide – and having a kid seems like a pretty decent excuse.

Fuck it.

You move, hunched and hobbling, to the bathroom door. Slumped against the wooden frame, you cup a hand between your legs.

Sure enough, your underwear is soaked. The fluid trickles down the seam of your thigh, warm and thin. It glistens in the moonlight when you lift your fingers.

“Shit,” you whisper. “Goddamn it, Duck.”

Body tingling and almost numb with pain, you scroll through your contacts to J. You stumble into the bathroom, wet fingers slipping around the sink. A weight begins to pull low between your hips.

Two rings and the tone cuts, his voice instantly spilling a cool comfort down your spine.

There’s no hello, no double checking that you haven’t accidentally dialed him in your sleep. Only that trademark drawl, that flat tone you’d swear sounded bored, if it weren’t for the haste with which Joel asks, “You okay?” the second he answers.

As if he were awake anyway, just waiting for your call.

“Yeah,” you choke, rubbing the nape of your neck. “I just called at one in the morning to…to say hi.”

He sighs, the crackle of breath echoed by the tinkle of wind chimes. The creak of wood as he settles into a chair on Vanessa’s parents’ porch. “Alright, smartass. What is it?”

“I’m…I’m in labor.”

“Mhm. That sure is funny, baby. Good one.”

You groan. “No, Joel, I swear – I swear, I just went into labor.”

He pauses. The chimes titter in the background. “You’re…You ain’t kidding me?”

The sharp peak of pain swipes the air clean from your lungs. The phone hits the sink with a clatter, drowning out your cry.

This kid is beating the ever-loving shit out of you. You’d be embarrassed if you had the energy to think about it.

“Baby?” Joel yells, loud enough that the sound loops around the bowl. His voice lifts to an octave you didn’t know it could reach. “Talk to me. Please, talk to me.”

Your fingers clamp around the phone. “I’m f-fine. It’s fine. I just gotta…gotta change my fuckin’ sheets, Joel, my waters broke while I was sleeping –”

“Oh, Christ,” he growls. The door squeals as he storms back into Vanessa’s family home. “The sh…Change the goddamn sheets? You gotta get to a hospital, darlin’!”

You laugh, head tipping back. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “Feels like the kid’s trying to kill me, but I can – shit, I can take ‘em.”

There’s the jangle of keys, the ruffle of a shirt being thrown over his head. “Yeah?” Joel says.“You can take childbirth, all on your own? Do me a favor and call a damn ambulance, baby.”

“An ambulance,” you repeat, laughing again.

“Yes, an ambulance. Call 9-1-1 right now. You want me to call ‘em? Let me go grab the landline –”

“Joel, do not call an ambulance –”

And if you thought you’d heard him at breaking point before – plucking your underwear from his lawn, dragging you around Home Depot, paling in your room with a pregnancy test in his hands – you know you have, now.

“You gotta get to a goddamn hospital now, baby!”

His voice trembles at its end, quivers like the pluck of a guitar string. A high-pitched echo, a nervous vibration.

Joel’s panicking.

It’s the second thing in less than five minutes that you never knew he could do.

“I can’t afford a f-fucking ambulance, Joel,” you yelp, sitting back on the edge of the bathtub.

“I will pay for it,” he pleads, “I’ll pay. Just – you gotta call them. You gotta…” He sighs again, breath wavering. “You’re in labor, and you’re alone. If anything happened to you, I –”

A hushed voice interrupts him. Follows him through the house, knotting her nightgown around her waist and twisting her dark tresses into a ponytail.

“She’s in labor,” Joel tells her. “I can’t stay. I’m going back for her.”

The porch door slams shut before Vanessa can reply, and Joel’s back outside again. Gravel crunching beneath his boots, crickets screaming in the background. “Still with me?” he asks.

“Still here,” you breathe, tracing your nails along your leg. “Duckie says hi, I guess.”

He hums. “Hi, Duckie. You little shit.”

You rock back and forth, eyes closed. Breathing between contractions, your head low between your shoulders. “How long will you be?”

The truck door creaks open. “I’m leaving right now. I’ll be…Fuck, I’ll be a couple hours, at least. I’m on my way, alright?”

Tears drip onto your bare thighs, the salt spilling into your mouth. “Joel,” you shake your head, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Yes, you can,” he says. “Are you kidding? Got us this far ‘n now you want to bail? That ain’t you, baby. Come on, now.”

“I wanna bail,” you insist. You slump to the floor, head lolling over the rim of the bathtub. Weeping like a little kid. “I’m scared, Joel. I’m so scared.”

“I know you are. Lord knows I’m scared, too – scared as hell. But –” the engine roars to life, “– I can’t wait to finally meet this kid. Our kid. Can’t wait to hold ‘em. Can’t wait to see you become a mom, and me become a dad.”

“Mom and Dad,” you whisper, sniffling.

“Mom and Dad, right? Yeah. You can do this. I know you can.”

The bathroom blurs behind your tears. You close your eyes, replacing the pale night with warmer dawn. Replacing it with images of tiny hands and feet; missing front teeth and a love-worn teddy tucked safely into bed.

Joel’s voice is softer, kinder. Calmer, now that he’s closing the hundred and fifty miles between the two of you.

“Just – don’t let the kid give you any shit, alright?”

The fear boils into determination. Something more irritating than it is terrifying. You inhale, blowing a heavy, shuddered breath to the ceiling. “Whatever, Miller.”

“Attagirl,” he says. “That’s the spirit. Now, call a damn ambulance.”

With a scoff, you push yourself to your feet, waddling towards the foot of your bed. You sway back and forth, holding your bump and listening to the hum of Joel’s truck.

And then you hear it.

Three sharp raps, from downstairs.

You wander to the hallway, squinting in the dark. “Joel?”

“Hm?”

“Are you…?”

The sound grows louder the nearer you draw. Quick knuckles against your front door.

“Am I what, darlin’?”

You lower yourself down the stairs, fist tight around the rail.

It’s August again. Sun’s encore blazing through your kitchen windows, bleeding golden through your living room. Everything shining, everything new and untouched.

Knock knock knock.

Light satin, duck egg blue; string lights and a diamond-encrusted necklace. The bones of your wardrobe propped against your porch. A rattling toolbox hanging from his fist, a positive pregnancy test in yours.

The knocking halts when you flick the porch light on. She calls your name once, old voice quivering.

Your phone is still glued to your ear as you pull the door open. “Al…?”

She squints at you and lifts a hand to shield from the light. She’s still in her pajamas – green dressing gown loose and lifting in the breeze.

Her eyes drop to the tee draped over your bump, the silver stream of fluid down the inside of your thigh. As she opens her mouth to speak, your hand slams into the doorpost.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan, and Alice Brown steps straight over the threshold.

“Are you in labor? Oh, sweetie. Sit down, sit.”

She backs you towards the stairs. One bony, trembling hand around yours – squeezing as tight as you are. She rubs up and down your spine, shushing until the pain subsides.

You blink up at her glowing figure, haloed by the porch light outside. “How did you…?”

She hushes you with a finger in the air. “I’m up most nights. I heard you from the window. Have you called 9-1-1?”

You shake your head, beginning to cry again.

Alice just nods, dismissing your bullshit. “Where’s your overnight bag, sweetheart?”

You toss a thumb over your shoulder. “It’s up in the nursery. I can go grab it –”

She holds you still with a hand on your shoulder. “Stay.” Another curt nod, then, “Get your shoes, get yourself over to my car. Do you need pants? You need pants. My car, right now.”

“Alice, you really don’t have to –”

“Get in the car,” she insists, climbing past you. “I’m right behind you!”

You watch her figure dissolve into the dim upstairs, and lift the phone back to your ear. “Did you…hear all that?”

“Alice Brown,” Joel replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “What’d I tell ya? That woman doesn’t miss a goddamn thing in this neighborhood.”

“Three centimeters,” the obstetrician says, covering your legs with the sheet. “Still a little ways to go.”

The suite is hushed and still. Walls an unoffending shade of oatmeal; decorated only with oak paneling and a framed painting of some lilies.

A nurse tilts the shades, averting the twinkling city lights in the distance. She turns and smiles – the same fucking smile everyone’s been giving you since you set foot in the place. Head tilted, brows arched.

Sympathy that you want to chew up and spit back out at their feet.

You force yourself to smile in return, and she floats back out to the bustling reception.

“Will he make it?” Alice asks. She’s still in her pajamas; the floral print goes well with the interior of the room. “The father, I mean. Joel.”

The obstetrician peels the gloves from her hands. She shrugs as she drops them into a wastebin. “I don’t see why not,” she says. “Things are moving a little quickly, but I don’t see you having your baby in the next couple hours.”

“You don’t know this kid like I do,” you groan, shifting in the bed.

She lifts the cardiotocograph reading, scanning the jagged lines. “You’re doing great,” she says. “I’ll be back in a little while. Just holler if you need anything.” She strolls off, letting the door sweep shut behind her.

Alice adjusts your pillow and squeezes your shoulder. She holds out a cup of water, guiding the straw to your lips. “He’ll be here,” she whispers.

You take a sip and settle back. “I don’t think I’m that lucky. I told him I hoped he’d get a flat on the ride there. This feels like karma.”

“Well, if it’s anyone’s karma –” she wiggles her fingers, “– it’s his. Going to Houston was ridiculous in the first place. Hell, you two not being together is ridiculous.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Just because we’re having a kid doesn’t mean we should be together. You shouldn’t be with someone for the sake of a baby who won’t even know any different.”

“Right, right,” Alice agrees, turning away. “You should only be with someone if you love them.”

“Exactly. And me and Joel – we’re not in love.”

She murmurs to herself. She lowers into a chair by the window, crossing her arms. “I’m seventy-three,” she says. “I’m not a damn fool.”

Something twists awkwardly between your hips. You wince, clutching your bump.

Duckie’s heartbeat pulses through the room. Muffled little bubbles of noise, popping one after the other. Strong and steady as hell – a determined little thing, the doctor said.

Don’t I fucking know it, you thought.

You reach for the silicone mask and cup it over your mouth. The gas is cold and funny when you inhale, feeling it shoot straight for the back of your skull. It does little more than dull the spiking pain, but still – you tip your head back, eyes rolling closed.

You let yourself fade from the suite – its yellow lamplight and hushed chatter outside – to somewhere warmer. Somewhere brighter.

Birdsong high overhead, and the whispering leaves on the oak trees in your yard. The sweet breeze on your skin, soothing the sting of the sun. Prickling wood on your fingertips, the gentle strum of a guitar somewhere beyond the fence.

Peering between the slats, catching glimpses of him like watching a film reel. His head nodding, his foot tapping. The concentration tight on his face; the perfect pick and pluck of his fingers on each string.

Half-hoping that he’ll spot you, scold you for spying and storm back into his house. That he might bring it up later – And another thing, while he whips his newspaper from your grasp, ignoring your cackling.

Half-hoping that he won’t. That he’ll sit there at his back door, bottle of beer at his feet, playing to his audience of sparrows.

And you’ll stand here, wishing you could ask the name of each song he hums.

The contraction splits your daydream in two.

In two hours, you dilate almost three centimeters.

You pace back and forth across the suite, pausing only when your womb clenches like a fist. The contractions are lasting longer, swinging lower, and punching harder. They’re giving you less recovery time; less of a chance to get back on your feet.

It’s a fucking nightmare.

Joel’s still not here. Last you heard, he’d just hit Travis County. Twenty minutes, baby, I promise. That was half an hour ago.

It might be for the better that he hasn’t gotten here. You’ve warned Alice three times already that you might just beat the shit out of him, whenever he walks through that door.

And you know what, sweetheart? She chuckled. I bet you could beat the shit out of him, sore as you are.

“Fuck,” you cry out, collapsing onto the bed. You stretch out forward, head hanging between your shoulders, and gulp back more of the laughing gas. The ache barrels from your stomach to your hips, peaking in the very center.

Alice rubs circles into the small of your back. It’s not helping, but you let her do it anyways. Gives her something to tell the neighbors that isn’t damaging to your reputation.

“That’s it,” she coos. “A little longer, just a little…”

The door clicks open just as the tense band begins to loosen.

Your head is spinning. The mask slips from your fingers.

Alice’s hand pauses. “…a little longer…” she repeats, voice drifting. Her weight leaves your back, replaced by something heavier, stronger.

Safer.

Someone grounding, someone smelling of pine and sweet spice.

He sits on the bed at your back and curves around your body. Lips to your shoulder like the sun in your backyard. His beard scratches against your hot skin.

You blink your eyes open.

Joel’s watch face winks back at you. His hands are over yours – bigger, wider. His fists swallow yours whole. They turn, slipping beneath your palms, and your fingers lace together.

“Joel…” you breathe, face turning in to his neck.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, wiping sweat from your brow.

You fall limp against his chest. “Holy shit.”

He looks exhausted. Gray, almost translucent. Looks like he’s just driven a couple hundred miles, half asleep and wholly panicked.

But – he’s here. He made it.

The sight of him, the feel of him holding you upright, melts away any anger or resolve to fight back. For now, at least. Picking an argument can wait until there isn’t a human splitting you in two.

He’s here. You’re not doing this alone.

“Holy shit,” Joel repeats. “You okay?”

“How did you get here so –?”

“Ninety-five the entire way.”

You frown. “Only ninety-five?”

“Trunk’s a hunk a’ shit,” he admits. “Couldn’t break a hundred.”

Alice scoffs, somewhere across the room.

He cradles you, his lips to your forehead. “Where we at?” he asks, staring at the paper churning from the cardiotocograph.

“Five, almost s–shit – six centimeters.” You clamp down on his hands, your uterus winding again.

Joel holds the mask back to your lips and you suck another chemical breath in. “Six? Jesus,” he gapes at Alice, “ain’t that…ain’t that real fast? For – for your first?”

Your fingers are weak and shaky, resting on his knuckles. “Your kid has a sick sense of humor,” you mutter into the silicone.

“That ain’t from me,” he says. “That’s all you, maestro.”

You turn closer into his shirt with a groan. He’s solid as a rock, swaying you through it. He’s here.

Alice swipes her coat from a hook by the door. She shakes her head, pulling it over her shoulders. “Ninety-five, Joel? Sweet Lord.”

He rolls his eyes. His hand curves around your bump. “Had a little bit of an emergency, Alice,” he says, watching your face twist with pain.

“And what if you’d had an accident?”

“I didn’t, Alice.”

“You could’ve, goin’ that damn fast. You’re lucky you’re even here.”

Joel finally looks up. “It’s four in the mornin’,” he protests, like a teenager. “Lucky if I passed five cars.”

You give him a weak smile, lowering the mask. You won’t win, you mouth.

He presses his lips to your head. “’s too much fun,” he murmurs, and you snort.

“Oh!” Alice throws a hand up. “I’m glad you find it funny!” She buttons her coat and glares back at both of you, hands on her hips.

She’s a busybody – has been since before you even moved in. She showed up on your doorstep on your first night with a casserole in hand, and made sure to get a good look at your living room before she shuffled back to her own place.

Always watching, always listening.

You never thought you’d see the day when you’d actually be thankful for her snoopiness.

“Thank you, Alice,” you say, head tilting. “For getting me here, for holding my hand…Thank you.”

Her expression thaws, eyes gleaming. With a sniff, she composes herself – and then points to Joel. “You call me as soon as that baby arrives. I won’t sleep, Joel, until you call.”

“I’ll call,” he assures.

She looks back at you. Balls her crepe paper fists, gives them a hearty shake. “Good luck, Mom,” she says, and with one last glance, slips out of the room.

Joel turns back to you, an eyebrow raised. “Take it she was out tendin’ to her tulips again?”

“Yeah,” you snicker, “one in the morning, those fuckers had to be watered.”

He chuckles. “You feelin’ okay?”

“Better now,” you tell him.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he says, shaking his head. “I should’ve been here. A goddamn idiot, headin’ off like that. So damn stupid.”

“Shh, you’re here now.” You wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I just needed you to be here.”

He nods. “I’m here, whatever you need. Tell me what I can do.”

You take a deep breath. “I need…”

Joel straightens – bracing, ready to jump at your first request.

“…I need a fucking break, Joel. I’m so tired, and this fucking kid –”

“Alright,” he sighs, shifting from behind you. “You and your goddamn jokes.”

You smirk, looking over your shoulder. “You missed me.”

“Hm,” he fixes the neckline of your gown, “I missed you. I really did.”

Born at 07:43. It’s a girl.

It’s like being broken open. Like splitting at the seams; your old self falling from you like shards of fruit. Separating, rolling apart; making way for someone older, wiser. Someone with all of the answers in the palm of her hand.

Mom.

You finally get it. She turns to you, finally glances over her shoulder. And she’s no stranger – no one you haven’t known your entire life. I know you, you whisper, nail trailing her smile lines and the pimples along her jaw.

I see you every time I look in the mirror.

Duckie is pulled from your body with a scream like bloody murder – a scream which matches the whimper you let out in shock, if not in volume.

The kid can scream. Jesus Christ, she can scream. It pierces the dull room; deafens you for a couple seconds the first time you hear it.

You’ve never heard a sound so fucking beautiful.

She wails as they lift her from your body. All curled-up, wriggling in the midwife’s arms. She wails as they slot her beneath your chin, as they wipe the blood and amniotic fluid from her.

She wails until the moment her skin meets yours, and as though it’s all you’ve ever known, you begin shushing her cries. Your arms close around her body, rocking her until she settles.

Her tiny hand grabs for something, for someone, for –

You.

Her mom.

“Joel,” you gasp, watching her tiny, pruned fingers clasp tight around just one of yours. “She’s…she’s so small…”

He sniffs in reply, lifting his hand from your shoulder to wipe his face.

You turn to look up at him.

He looks as broken open as you feel. Eyes bloodshot and soaking, tears streaming into his thick beard. A sob in his throat which chokes and silences him, until he catches your eye and he can’t help but laugh with elation.

“Look at her,” he weeps, all torn up by the little girl in your arms. He presses his lips to your forehead in a crash of a kiss: wet, soaking wet on your skin.

You beam up at him when he pulls away. “We did it,” you whisper.

Joel shakes his head. He runs a thumb across the damp print left on your head. “You did it, honey,” he mutters. “I was nothin’ but a spectator.”

“You almost missed the game,” you quip, and he laughs again.

Your body throbs; nearly numb with pain, heavy with fatigue and emotion. But as long as she’s here, this tiny tornado of a girl, you don’t feel a thing.

Clenching and then unclenching her fist around your finger – so delicate compared to the punches she was throwing at your ribs just six hours ago. She’s worth every fucking second of it.

You finally fucking get it.

She fits so perfectly in the crook of your arm. It feels as though your body was made just to hold her – the very shape of you, designed especially for the very shape of her.

You wonder whether it was the same for your mom. Whether you came along and made her feel whole, for the first time in her life.

Duckie’s eyes open – all glossy and brand new, blinking up at the both of you like she needed no introduction. She already knows you, from the inside out. Her dad’s graying beard, the threads of silver around his temples. Her mom’s tear-stained cheeks, eyes red and bleary with sleeplessness and pure love.

You’re Mom, you’re Dad.

It’s all she’s ever known.

The pillow sighs as you lean back into it. The doctor begins repairing the damage done between your legs; threading and knitting your body back together.

You’re caught between a state of bliss and shock. Your brain is doing much the same work to itself as the woman between your knees is. Patching over all the bloody parts: the screams which tore your skin, the pain which cracked your teeth.

None of it holds a candle to the weight of her in your arms. No matter how tired you are, you can’t take your eyes off her. Her puffy cheeks, the little creases between her brows. No matter how sore, you never want to let go of her.

Joel runs a finger down Duckie’s cheek. “Ain’t she the most beautiful thing in the world?”

“I love her,” you say, bubbling again. “I love her more than anything.”

An hour old, and she’s already a daddy’s girl.

Joel ambles back and forth at the foot of your bed in the recovery suite, bouncing Duck in his arms. He’s never looked so relaxed, so natural at something. He’s never seemed so content, so peaceful.

Everything he’s ever made with his hands – structures and framework and your goddamn closet – and yet this, this tiny accident, this baby girl you were so sure you’d dreamt up right up until an hour ago –

This is the thing he’s proudest of.

Morning lifts through the windows, all soft and vanilla. It floats around him, sunlight spilling across his skin and breathing life and color into him.

Sunlight – or his daughter. They’re the same thing, anyway.

You pull apart a slice of toast, watching. Just watching. Sweet strawberry jam on your tongue, the flavor of everything sharper, fresher. The colors brighter, more vivid.

The world makes more sense like this, you think. Painted in shades of honey and ochre; a room in a corner of the world where time slows to a halt. A soft lullaby from his lips, and the little coos from hers.

The ache of love and labor lingers deep inside you, and nothing has ever made more sense.

You suck the sticky sweet from your fingertips.

Joel looks up, toying with Duckie’s hand. “You want her back?” he asks, a dumb grin on his face.

You shake your head. “I like watching you.”

He scrunches his nose, nuzzling it against his daughter’s, and whispers, “I wasn’t gonna give you back, anyways.” He sways in the early light, staring down at her. “Jesus,” he mutters, swiping at his eyes again, “I didn’t…I didn’t know I could love somethin’ this much.”

“Me, either.”

He drifts over, lowering himself slowly onto the edge of the bed. He extends his elbow, still cradling the baby, and helps you pull yourself upright.

You hiss, a not-so-subtle sting between your legs.

“You, uh…you think of a name yet?” Joel asks.

“Not yet,” you reply, hooked onto his shoulder. Duck blows a bubble and you wipe it with your knuckle. “I thought we were sticking with Duckie?”

His cheeks swell. The sun kisses the edges of his beard. “I thought of one,” he says softly. “Maybe. It’s your call.”

You yawn into his shirt, the warmth of him calm and soothing. “Alright, Miller. Hit me.”

He looks down at the baby nestled in his safe hands. The smallest thing either of you have ever seen.

The name must roll around his head a few times, the way he tilts to-and-fro – looking at her from one angle, then the next. Deciding, when he pulls back, that she suits it from every direction. Like it was her name long before he or even you knew it.

You watch his lips shape the name before you hear it.

Sarah.

And for what feels like forever, you just stare at him. The syllables lingering in the air like glistening specks of dust in a sunbeam. Your eyes follow them down to your daughter, now sleeping peacefully with two hands around one of her dad’s thumbs.

“Sarah,” you repeat, remembering whose name it was, whose name it is – whose name it has always been. “Sarah Miller.”

Joel’s shoulders lift. “What do you think? She look worthy of bein’ a Sarah?”

The rustle of tissue paper. Blue and green and purple tearing between your fingers. The funny fuzz of pom poms as your hands rummaged through the bag. Her hand swimming towards you, an orange foam fish riding the waves between her fingers. Bubbly sounds erupting from her lips.

Your girlish giggle. Her silly grin. Hopscotch along the sidewalk; stopping to look for cars before she’d walk you across the street. How much do I love you, baby girl?

More than the whole world, Mama.

“I love it,” you breathe, tears running to the corners of your mouth. “Sarah fucking Miller.”

“Sarah fuckin’ Miller,” Joel echoes; two wet lines the same as yours, curving down his cheeks. He shifts her into the crook of his arm.

You’re impossibly close. Your chin rests on his shoulder, foreheads brushing when you lean in to each other. His breath is hot on your lips, closer and closer and closer until –

He tastes like salt, rich with emotion. Salt, and then sweet when your tongue meets his. He lifts his free hand to cup your cheek, and your fingers link around his wrist.

And you know you shouldn’t be doing it – know this isn’t your man to be kissing. But in this room, where no one else can see – where it’s just you, him, and all the best parts of yourselves shaped into someone better – he feels like yours.

Just for a moment.

Joel takes the first week of Sarah’s life off work.

He spends a good twenty minutes on the phone to the contractor, talking more about the kid than he does the job. Her eyelashes, her fingernails, the way her legs scrunch anytime he lifts her up.

He’s besotted with the entire thing. And he tells everybody so.

He moves in with you both, stays in your guestroom. It’s a week of no sleep, no peace, and a total of three showers between you. Wearing the same clothes covered in spit-up and drool until one of you has the time or energy to do laundry.

It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. By your count, you’ve already cried three times to Joel – terrified you’re getting it all wrong.

But you’re doing it. Jesus God, you’re doing it.

You order takeout most nights. You can’t stand long enough to cook just yet, and you don’t trust Joel not to burn your fucking kitchen down – despite his protests. And it feels like, after everything your body’s given you, it deserves a greasy pizza and some chicken wings.

You rot on the couch together, watching shitty TV and arguing over reruns of Jeopardy! – until Sarah wakes and the whole thing begins again.

Joel loses the game of rock, paper, scissors tonight.

“Shh, baby girl. ‘s alright now, I gotcha,” he lulls, tucking her back in to her bassinet.

She fusses and stretches out; arms over her head, legs curled up. Her onesie is still a little too big – the socked feet all baggy, the sleeves rolled up her wrists.

He lingers for a moment as she drifts off, a hand stroking her tummy. Watching, always watching her. The rise and fall of her stomach, the puffs of breath from her nostrils, her lips still suckling away in her sleep.

“I swear I have a baby photo that looks just like her,” you say. “Same nose and everything.”

Joel clicks his teeth. “Got her looks from her mom. Lucky thing.”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you snort.

He drifts back over, sinking into the couch at your side. “Doin’ okay?” he asks, and you nod.

Every muscle in your body still feels like a ton weight. Your stomach is still swollen; there are still stitches between your legs. There are moments you can’t tell if you’re crying because of hormones, exhaustion, or joy.

Every time, it’s a combination of all three.

Life before feels so long ago – and it hasn’t even been a fortnight. But then you held her for the first time, and now – your arm misses the weight of her when she’s not in it. Your house feels eerily quiet when she’s not laughing, or whimpering, or screaming the fucking roof down.

You can feel your daughter growing up already, and she’s only ten days old.

On the mantelpiece, safe in a stippled gold frame, your mom beams down over her. The photo at least twenty years old, the memory even older. Laughing, the way she always was; nothing quite so funny as a joke frozen in time.

Joel prods you with his elbow. “She’d be proud of you, you know. Your mom.”

“Oh,” you scoff, “no, she’d be like, Holy shit. This kid totally kicked your ass.”

He chuckles. “Sure she did,” he shrugs, “she’s your kid.”

The TV babbles to itself across the room. In its glow, Joel meets your eye. A tiny, pearly fleck swimming in deep honey.

It’s familiar – each shade of bronze in his eyes, each thread of silver through his hair. Like you’ve mapped each and every line on his skin, collecting them like the sleepless hours between you.

Everything about him feels so normal. Burnt toast in the morning, a spoon clinking around a mug of coffee. The rustle of the newspaper, the sizzle of eggs in the pan, the baby snoring on your chest.

Everything – and yet nothing you’ve ever known.

“I miss her,” you whisper. “I miss my mom.”

His hand finds yours instantly. “I know, baby. I know you do.”

You slouch down, leaning on his shoulder, and close your eyes. Joel presses his lips to the crown of your head, his thumb looping around your knuckles.

Sarah gurgles in her sleep. She sighs – a satisfied little sound. Nothing has ever made more sense.

His voice rumbles against your skull. “Who sent the lilies?”

Your eyes flutter open. “Hm?”

Joel flicks his finger towards the window, towards a sprawl of speckled, cream flowers. “The lilies? They weren’t there this morning.”

“Oh…” You turn to look up at him, cringing.

He sees the flicker of her behind your eyes. Her lustrous curtain of hair, her perfect almond nails.

“Really?” Joel asks, mirroring your expression.

You nod, trying not to laugh. “From her and Kate. You were upstairs with Sarah when she came by. I offered to call you down, but – she just wanted to drop ‘em and go.”

“What did she…? Did she say anything?”

Your head shakes. “She just…she said congratulations, said she hoped we were okay. Then she got in her car and she left. I kinda figured things weren’t sunshine and roses, anyway. You haven’t fuckin’ seen her since Houston.”

He snorts, fingers massaging his eyes. “I was goin’ to tell you,” he mumbles into his palms, “I just…Honey, I don’t even know what day of the week it is right now. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” you mutter.

“Yes, I do,” he insists. His eyes flit over to Sarah, then back to you. “We haven’t really talked it through yet, me ‘n her. I called her a few days ago, we agreed it’s time. It – it’s past time. I shoulda called it months ago.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Are you okay?”

Joel’s brow furrows. “’course I am. I got the most beautiful baby girl in the world,” and then, rolling his eyes, “you’re here.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you clip, batting his arm. “Vanessa could do way better, anyways.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

You squeeze his fingers, softly adding, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Joel.”

He stares down at your clasped hands. He looks tired, worn out. You figure it’s not just from the newborn. But he takes a deep breath, something the color of relief dawning on his skin, and looks you dead in the eye.

“I’m not.”

“Hey, Duckie – can you say, Happy birthday, Daddy?”

A vinyl wobbles on the turntable – some acoustic record from when Joel was a teenager. There’s wrapping paper still crumpled beneath the coffee table; four plates with more crumbs than cake left, dotted around the room.

Tommy leans in, a lopsided party hat on his head, and tickles Sarah’s chin.

She blinks at him, unamused, then scrunches her little nose and turns back into your chest.

He sighs, straightening. “She don’t like her uncle Tommy all that much,” he grumbles, sulking back over to the couch. Maria puts a consoling arm around his shoulder.

You rest your lips on Sarah’s head, breathing in her sweet scent. Swaying back and forth, you tease, “She don’t like anyone all that much, not unless they’re her daddy.”

Joel’s head lifts and he smiles, eyes glistening. He watches you and Sarah dance; laughs when you twirl her around and she tips her head back, flashing a gummy grin.

“She’ll come around to ya,” he tells Tommy, wandering over to your side. “We all learned to, eventually.”

Tommy scoffs. “Very funny, old man. Jesus.”

Joel stoops down to let Sarah run her small hands through his beard. He catches her fingertips between his lips and pretends to nibble on them.

She giggles, squirming in your arms. Her fingers find the sweeps of hair on his forehead and, taking a fistful, she tugs.

“Christ,” Joel hisses, pulling back.

“That was on you this time,” you chuckle, pointing a finger. “You know she does that, and you still fall for it.”

Maria glances down at her watch. “Is that the time?” she asks, turning to Tommy. “We should really turn in.”

“Oh – right, right.” Tommy tips the last of his beer into his mouth. “We’re takin’ Mom to brunch tomorrow. Better get some goddamn rest.”

Joel hums, still massaging his hairline. “Hey,” he whispers, elbowing you. “Maybe I should take her over. She’s getting sleepy – ain’t you, little Duck?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Tommy stands and holds a hand out. “Why don’t you let Maria and I take her? We’ll tuck her in, keep an eye on her. We weren’t half bad the other day, while y’all were at work. And if she’s stayin’ at Joel’s tonight anyway…”

You glance to Joel, who shrugs. Something shaped like Sure.

“As long as you don’t mind,” you reply, bouncing the baby slowly. “Let me go grab her things.”

Joel’s hand slips across the small of your back as you pass, making for the stairs. He lingers at the bottom, watching until you turn into the nursery with Sarah in the crook of your arm.

You set her down in her crib and gather some of her favorites: a yellow blanket, a duck comforter, a rattle shaped like an elephant. She watches contentedly as you shuffle back and forth, staring when you lean over the wooden rail.

“You know how much I love you?” you whisper, curling a finger inside her fist. She squeezes, and you say, “More than the whole world.”

She grabs at the chain dangling from your neck, the letter S catching the light. Instead, she lifts your finger to her mouth. Her nails scratch light as a feather across your skin. Her gums are tiny and soft around your knuckle.

Everything about her is tiny and soft. Her sweeping eyelashes, her plushy cheeks. Her round tummy, and the squeals she lets free as you dot kisses and blow raspberries all over it. No matter how much she’s grown in three months, she’s still so tiny.

She’ll always be the smallest, sweetest thing you’ve ever known. And she’s all yours.

“Jesus, kid,” you sniff, swiping at your tears. You slip your hands around her back and prop her on your hip. “Alright, let’s go. Quit making your mom cry.”

The bag over your shoulder, you carry her out of the room and into the dark hallway. It’s quiet downstairs; nothing but the crackle of the record player, the distant chink of dishes in the kitchen.

That – and hushed voices in the living room.

“Joel,” Tommy says, over and over again. He’s trying to cut in between his brother’s rambling. Joel – listen to me. Just listen, for one second –”

You linger on the bottom step, trying to split Joel’s voice from Tommy’s. Trying to pluck the words out, over Maria’s humming from the next room.

“…and it ain’t that simple, Tommy it’s –”

“What ain’t simple about it? You have a –” Tommy says it through his teeth, “– you have a kid together, Joel. You really think she’s gonna –”

Sarah grabs the charm around your neck and shakes suddenly, rattling the chain.

You close your hand around hers, losing your balance. “Shhhhit, Duckie, you –”

Joel’s eyes snap to your figure as you step down. He clears his throat, leaning away from Tommy. “Hey – hey, darlin’.”

“Hey,” you reply. Bright. Chipper. Unclenching your fist to let your daughter shake your necklace some more.

She squeals with delight when she spots Joel across the room.

“She ready to go?” he asks, slinging a quick – telling – look at Tommy.

You look between the brothers, browns quirking. They look as guilty as each other: scratching their beards, staring at the furniture instead of you. “Uhuh,” you reply, tongue against your teeth. “Everything…everything okay?”

Tommy slaps his thighs as he stands. “Everything’s great, sweetheart. Sure as shit. Joel – you, uh…you got a key on ya?”

“Oh, yep.” Joel reaches into his pocket. He unhooks a silver key from the chain and drops it into his brother’s open palm.

Tommy calls for Maria. He sidesteps around you, face flushed and smiling.

She floats through from the kitchen, drying her palms on her jeans. “Where’s my baby duck?” she sings, reaching for Sarah.

You pass her over and she melts into her aunt’s arms, curling up into a little pink lump on her chest. “She just had a feed, like, twenty minutes ago, so – she should go down pretty well. And there are more bottles in Joel’s fridge, if you need ‘em.”

Maria nods, wrapping Sarah’s blanket around her. She lifts the bag strap from your shoulder and hands it to Tommy. “I’ll text you as soon as she’s down. Come on, Duckie, let’s get you to bed.”

Tommy leans over and squeezes your arm, winking as he follows his wife. He calls goodnight to Joel, lifting a pointed finger over his head, and closes the door behind them.

Things could not have gone smoother.

It’s suspicious as shit.

You turn when you hear Joel shifting.

“C’mon,” he utters, a pile of plates in one hand. “I ain’t leavin’ you with this mess.” He heads through to the kitchen, broad figure swaying.

The plates spill into the sink, water trickling over them. Joel hums to himself as he gets to work with a sponge in hand.

You linger in the living room.

Things have been good lately – peaceful. You’re in as much of a routine as Sarah will allow: a steady pattern of dropping her off and picking her back up, patchwork family dinners, daytrips whenever both of you can make them.

Your body is healing, pulling itself back together. You don’t have to think about being Mom anymore – she walks in stride with you. The world is painted a new shade of normal – one where you can do anything with a baby on your hip, one where love becomes your first language.

One where you swallow back the ache in your heart, for better or for worse. The only piece of you still fractured. The only wound left open.

Joel’s birthday cards lie flat on the coffee table. You pluck them up one by one – his parents’, Tommy and Maria’s, yours – and Sarah’s.

A messy splotch of a handprint, bright yellow paint smeared across half the fucking card (she hasn’t quite mastered self-control yet). A googly eye plastered to the bird’s chest; orange crayon for the beak and legs.

Sure, you took charge for most of the project – but when he opened it and saw his daughter’s little masterpiece, you caught him swiping his knuckle at the corner of his eye. He snuggled into her, perched on his lap, and whispered, Thank you, little Duckie.

You prop them along your mantelpiece, dotted around your mom’s photo. When you step back, looking from son to brother to…a good friend, you could almost pretend.

Almost pretend that they belong here, on this mantelpiece. There is no yours and his. Just one of everything; nothing doubled nor halved.

Almost pretend that he won’t collect them as he leaves, break into another teary laugh at the sight of the duck painting, and then kiss your cheek goodnight. Promise to have your daughter back in time to go swimming tomorrow morning.

Almost.

“Hey,” Joel calls, “did you, uh – did you hear Tommy talkin’ about Jackson?”

You slip into the kitchen, side by side with him at the sink. “Uh, yeah,” you reply, lifting a towel. “Moose, pine trees. Yep.”

“It sounds beautiful. You think we should take a trip up there sometime? Could be Sarah’s first vacation.”

“You mean the three of us?”

He shrugs, scrubbing a bowl in the water. “Sure. I don’t think Duckie would let one of us stay behind, do you? She’d scream the damn airport down,” he chuckles, looking back to the twinkling bubbles.

You hum. “Maybe.”

“You don’t feel like it?”

“No, I do. I just – I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

“Okay,” Joel says, nodding. “Put a pin in it.”

He passes you a dripping plate and you drag the towel over it, circling the pattern until the suds are wiped clean. And another, and another.

It feels awkward. It feels stiff. There’s something hanging between you, heavy on both your shoulders. A weight you haven’t felt around Joel in over a year.

You turn to him as he stacks the last plate on the draining board. “Is that what you were talking to Tommy about?”

Joel pauses. “You heard that, huh?”

“Only the part about having a kid. It’s none of my business, I know, I just –”

“Actually,” he clears his throat, “it’s plenty your business.”

He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. A deep breath, cheeks puffing as he exhales. His grip on the dish towel whitens his knuckles.

He’s…nervous. The same shade of gray he wore the night you went into labor.

He takes another unsteady breath.

“Joel?” you ask, head tilting. “Whatever it is, you can say it. I got whiskey, if that’ll make it easier. Probably tastes like shit, but…”

His expression cracks. His eyes twinkle, and he smiles. Only a little, but enough. Enough to let the words slip through.

“You know, that night at Tommy’s wedding was one of the best nights of my life.”

Your heartbeat thuds a bassline in your ears; the rush of your blood the squealing guitar. Skin tacky, moans caught between teeth. Laughter and lust tangling together in the air.

“Yeah?” you ask.

Joel nods. “Yeah. Lying there – talking, laughing, messin’ around. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in all my life. I could’ve stayed in that room with you forever.”

Your eyes start to sting. You look away.

“I thought I would regret it. I thought I should regret it. And I never did. But then,” he takes a deep breath, “the next day, I look out front, and my newspaper’s sittin’ on my lawn. And for two weeks straight, I kept checking – and there it was. I thought, Sure as shit, she regrets the whole thing. I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You shake your head. “I wanted to see you again. I missed – I missed you. Missed pissin’ you off.”

He laughs. “I missed you pissin’ me off. Missed that annoying as hell thud on my porch.”

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to – you know,” you admit, and Joel nods.

“We got pretty good at avoidin’ each other,” he grumbles. “And then – with Vanessa, I thought I’d be doin’ you a favor. Letting you off light.”

“You…you took her number to do me a favor?”

“Naw,” Joel says. “I took her number ‘cause her brother in-law has a lumber company, and I had a closet to build. I was drunk, I was an idiot, and I brought it up to her at the wedding. By the time I thought it through, you ‘n I weren’t speakin’.”

You stare at him, jaw slack. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shakes his head. He edges closer to you. Voice low, he says, “I shouldn’t’ve gone out on that first date with her. I shouldn’t’ve done any of it. I should’ve talked to you about what I was feeling.”

“Well, maybe we both should’ve,” you mutter, wringing your hands. “I wasn’t exactly the best at it, either.”

His head tips, considering. “Can I tell you now?”

You glance over to him. “Tell me what, Miller?”

“Tell you…tell you that I love you,” he whispers.

It steals the breath from your lungs. One clean swipe.

He nods to himself, then – certain of it – and says it again. “I do, darlin’. I love you.”

Your heart begins to hammer. Tears spill over onto your cheeks, dripping from your jaw.

“And, look –” Joel takes your wrists, “– I got no right to say any of that, I know. I put you through a hell of a lot, these last few months – and that kills me. But if you’ll let me, I swear to you – I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”

You look up. His cheeks are dappled, too – glistening with tears. “Joel…” you weep.

He cups your jaw. “Listen to me. What we’ve had, the last three months – I want it all the time. I want you, and I want Duck. I want the three of us under one roof. I want to sleep in the same bed as you.”

You breathe a shuddered laugh. Your hands fall over his wrists. Keep talking, you mouth, bottom lip trembling.

“I want to get married, or not,” Joel says. “I want to show up to Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party late, ‘cause Duck couldn’t pick which shoes she wanted to wear. I want to have more kids, take ‘em on vacation.”

“Wyoming?” you sniff.

“Wyoming,” he repeats. “I want…I want all of it, baby. You ‘n me. I want you ‘n me, more than anything in the world. And if I’m too late, then you can tell me. Tell me, and I swear on my life I will never mention it again.”

Your hands curve over his. His strong knuckles, worked and weathered and worn by his years. Down to his wrists – the tatty strap on his ages-old watch, the dark hair peppered along his arms.

“I love you so much, baby. So much that it drives me insane. You drive me…fuckin’ insane.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you whisper, balling your fists against his chest.

Joel laughs, nose brushing against yours. “Yeah,” he sniffs, “I figured you’d say som’ like that.”

“I love you, too,” you mumble, linking your arms around his neck. “Shit, I love you.”

“Ain’t that a thing?” he says, and his lips are on yours.

It’s been a year. A year since the first time you felt him – lips soft as velvet, sweet with alcohol and something stronger. His tongue and yours, his teeth and yours. Every part of you clashing with every part of him.

And goddamn, you’ve missed it.

Joel follows you upstairs, pinning you to the wall by your bedroom door. White heat flooding through your veins, he kneels before you and pulls you onto his tongue.

He’s hungry.

He laps at you as though you’ll be gone in the morning. As though he won’t wake up tangled in you, breathing in your scent, lips on your skin.

Dusk seeps in at the edges of your vision; daylight draining from the sky. It’s dark, too dark to see him clearly, but you feel him fucking everywhere.

His beard grazes the inside of your thigh. He kisses where he scratches your skin. He holds your hips steady, tongue dipping in and out.

“You know how fuckin’ sweet you taste?” he growls, slipping inside again.

He looks so good between your legs. Like he was made for it – made for you. All yours, in ways you never really understood until now.

He brings you to the edge with his tongue flat against your clit. Holding your hips firm against his mouth, groaning with you as you fall.

You come with a broken moan. Hips stutter to a halt, legs fall wide open. The warmth in your belly spills over and rushes to every corner of your body.

Joel moans, tongue still lapping as your cunt pulses all over him. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he slurs, watching you come undone.

He stands, a chaste kiss to your lips, and then parts them with his tongue. “Taste good?” he mumbles, kissing you gently.

Yeah, you think, moaning against him, it tastes fucking good.

He spreads you out on your mattress and kisses what feels like every square inch of your body. You giggle at the feeling of his lips behind your ear; moan when they close around your nipple.

Your back arches; little lightning bolts as he pulls the buds to a peak. Your fingers knot through his hair; hissing at the meeting of pain and pleasure between Joel’s lips.

“I love you,” you whisper, when he settles between your legs. You don’t know that you’ve felt something so true in all your life.

He smiles. Your fingers trace the lines at his eyes.

“Come here,” he says, and pulls your hips to meet his.

You curve a hand around his neck, glancing down at your open legs. “Looks a little different to the last time you saw her.”

Joel shakes his head, licking his lips. “Beautiful, baby. She looks so goddamn beautiful.”

Each movement is careful, deliberate. He notches his tip at your hole and pauses until you’re looking at him again.

And then he pushes in.

He slips an arm under your head; the other holding your thigh on his waist. He kisses you as you stretch around him. He still tastes like salt and slick.

You gasp, teeth gritting around a hiss. “Fuck,” you whimper, turning in to his chest.

“Easy, easy,” Joel coos, voice rumbling against your temple. “Catch your breath. Doin’ so good.”

“It’s not sore,” you tell him, nodding for him to move again. “It’s…it’s just…different.”

“Tighter,” he groans, eyes on your cunt as it draws his cock in.

You agree, “Tighter.”

He catches you in another kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips. “Feel so good, sweet girl. Breathe. ‘m right here.”

It’s never felt like this before. This gentle, this tender.

You have never felt like this before. Broken open, stitched back together. Your heart split into two – whole again each time his body meets yours.

Joel catches your moans on his tongue. He steadies his pace; rocking into you over and over. Laughing against your lips; your fingers intertwined with his.

“Feel good?” he pants.

Your head rolls back. “Mhm.”

“Take it, baby. Such a tight little thing.”

“Joel,” you cry, “I’m close.”

His teeth nip at your neck. “Shit,” his hips jump, “attagirl. Just like that.” He thrusts into you harder, bleeding the color from your vision.

You pull his lips to yours, foreheads tacky. Joel’s eyes gloss over.

I love you, he breathes.

And the world whitens.

He pulls you against his chest when you come back around. Shifts up the headboard, skin all sticky and warm. He kisses your temples, kisses your shoulders, kisses your knuckles.

You melt into his grasp, turning to look up at him. You run your fingers over his lips, through his damp hair. Just staring. Drinking him all in.

“You were right next door, the entire time,” you whisper.

He runs a thumb across your cheek. “Yep.”

“Do you think we wasted too much time?”

Joel’s lip turns. “Nah,” he says. “We found our way.”

“Needed a little help, though.”

He scoffs, tongue between his teeth. “I’m sure she’ll hold it against us forever.”

You think of that evening in August. The last bow of the sun before your world changed forever. Of deals struck and promises made. Of satin on your fingertips – newspaper ink and duck egg silk.

You think of that photograph on your mantelpiece. Bright eyes watching every second of it. A smile on her face the entire time.

You laugh to yourself. Joel looks down and kisses your swollen cheek.

“We should go,” he taps your thigh, “got a little duck who’ll be wonderin’ where her mama and daddy are.”

The church tower rings out twice as the truck purrs between graves.

Joel pulls up under the shade of a sycamore, tires rolling to a halt. Sarah kicks her feet, her heels thudding against her car seat.

“Mama,” she presses a sticky finger to the back window, “flowers.”

“Yeah, baby,” you call over your shoulder, hugging your own graveside gift a little tighter in your arms. “Lots of ‘em, huh?”

“Yeah,” your daughter quietly considers, then kicks her seat again.

Joel waits patiently for you to give him the go ahead. He slips a hand around your knee, looking ahead at the rows of headstones. So patient, so gentle.

Your chest swells, a deep breath filling your lungs, and you nod. “Alright.”

“Sure?” he asks. “Take as long as you want, darlin’.”

But if you wait any longer, you’ll never leave. The paper wrap crinkles in your arms. “You take Duck,” you reply, “I’ll take…”

Joel lifts your hand, placing a soft kiss between your knuckles. “You got it. We’ll walk on.”

He leaves you in the truck to collect yourself. He unbuckles Sarah and sets her loose, following her across the grass with his hands in his pockets.

Her light-up sneakers flash as she sprints; head tossed back, toothless smile pointed to the sun. She turns back to her dad, her little hand fitting perfectly into his.

Made for each other.

You hook your fingers around the handle and leave the truck.

Their grave is a short walk down a grassy slope, sheltered by another towering tree. Its leaves flutter down around you as you near the stone; stray petals which catch in the breeze and lead the way.

You kneel down, the grass dry and prickly through your jeans. “Hi, Mom,” you whisper, sweeping some dust from the base of the grave. “Hi, Dad.”

Your grandma picked this spot. She’s long gone – laid to rest elsewhere with a grandfather you never met – so you try to visit as often as you can. Freshen the flowers, brighten up the stone.

It fucking sucks, but someone’s gotta do it.

You peel the brown paper from the bouquet, exposing the soft colors Sarah picked back in the florist. They fit perfectly on the stone, right beneath the words Devoted parents.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a feeling that wraps itself around your throat and steals any other words – until a flash of pink catches your attention.

“Duckie,” Joel calls, following her between graves. “Hey. This is a cem…Hey, Duck, listen – this is a cemetery, we gotta be – Sarah!”

You stifle a laugh, watching him jog after the hoodie tied around her waist. He swipes for her hand and she dodges him, ducking between graves faster than his mid-fifties joints can turn him.

There’s no one else here – it’s only you. And it’s a quiet enough place as it is, so – you let her laugh. Let him chase her, and let her sneakers light the place in pink. What else is there to do?

“Sorry it’s been a little while,” you tell your parents, eyes still on your man.

He’s kneeling now, Sarah on his thigh, in front of a tall, cross-shaped stone. They’re pointing at the words on the stone, her inquisitive eyes studying each one.

“I know I said I’d come visit for Dad’s birthday, but I guess things got busy – what with the move and all. We’re still living out of boxes. But the girls’ rooms are almost done – we just gotta paint ‘em.”

You look back down to the stone. Your mom’s name carved deep into spotted marble, your dad’s underneath. One awful date to tie them both together.

Dad probably heard Duck’s first squeal and turned away; gone back to whatever boring activity he might get up to in the afterlife. But your mom, you know for certain, is sat with her chin on the heel of her palm. Watching her mini-me trace the shapes of words, squirming when Joel presses his lips to her temple and whispers hints to her.

She’s probably smiling, making some comment about how big Sarah’s getting. How smart she is, how funny. How she must keep you and Joel on your toes – and goddamn, she’s right.

“Joel’s been working on the kitchen,” you continue. “I left my phone in the truck, but you should see it, Mom. He got these marble countertops, these little brushed-gold handles. He wrote our names on the wall before he tiled it, so whoever remodels after we’re gone will find that. The four of us.”

“M-meh-mem-orr-mem-or-ree?” Sarah tilts her head.

Joel nods. “Memory, yeah. Good job, Duck.”

“Duckie’s good,” you tell your mom. “She’s top of her class in – well, everything. Really wiping the floor with all the other first-graders. She’d have been your favorite – I know that much. And you’d have been hers.

“She’s gonna be some kind of lawyer, we think. Social justice and all that. She likes to be a woman of the people. Always talkin’ back to Joel – she hardly cuts him any slack, these days,” you laugh.

“He’s good, too – Joel. Working hard, as usual. Tommy and Maria visited last week – they brought Buckley, and now Duck won’t stop goin’ on about us getting a dog.”

You chance a glance over the stone, making sure the pair are out of earshot when you add, “Don’t tell her, but we called the pound last night. We’re heading there tomorrow while she’s at school to pick one out for her birthday. Joel’s giddier than I think Sarah’s gonna be.”

Joel’s carrying Duck now, wandering down a wobbly row of graves.

She halts him by pointing to one. “N-eh-v-eh-never…fff-or-g-for–”

He stares at her, a grin breaking across his lips. “Sound it out, that’s it. ‘s a big word, baby girl. You got it.”

The world seems to blur around them. The birds sing, a light melody from overhead. The green trees sway across the blue of the sky; the straight soar of cars on the highway. It all fades into the background, behind the two of them – wandering from shade into brilliant sun.

Your family. Your man, your blood – and everything in between. The little girl who brought it all together in the end – leading her dad by hand over knolls and broken stone, chasing butterflies, and asking what eh-teh-err-nal means.

“Means forever,” Joel says, kneeling beside her. “’s how long I’m gonna love you for.”

“And Nel?”

“And Nel.”

“And Mama?”

“And Mama.”

Sarah runs her hands through his beard, swaying side to side. “But me the most,” she concludes, nodding.

Joel hms, biting back a laugh. He lifts his chin, asks the little girl whether or not he’s going gray.

She has the same ridiculous laugh you do. The same snort you used to find so embarrassing, until you heard it come from her.

Just watching them stokes the already burning fire in your ribcage – the warmth flooding around your heart. He’s so good at it – being a dad.

Was he ever anything else, before he was a father? You can’t remember a time you didn’t wake up next to him, wrapped up in his arms, or with one of his kids burrowed between your bodies. It all feels so long ago, now.

He wanted to do everything. He’d lie with you between his legs, holding your half-sleeping form upright while you fed her. He’d race home after work specially to bathe her. He picked up any and every single duck-themed thing that he came across.

And what were you? Mom felt like such a fucking longshot. So out of your reach that you couldn’t understand the meaning of the word.

But there are days when she says it – Sarah, looking up at you with Joel’s twinkling eyes and a smirk which matches yours – and it’s like you’ve been waiting your whole life to hear it. Like you’ve been waiting your whole life for her.

Well. Her, and her little sister.

“And, uh – another thing,” you say, reaching for the plastic handle of a car seat. “I brought somebody for you to meet.”

A clumsy fist shoots up to shake a speckled dinosaur toy – the brown spheres of its eyes catching the sunlight. She squeals with delight when you unbuckle her, kicks her legs the same way her sister always did.

“She’s a little nervous, ain’t you, Nel?” you whisper, laughing at her gummy smile and tiny, socked feet. “She spit up on herself on the way here, but – I think you’re gonna love her.”

You perch the baby on your thigh, same as Joel did with Sarah, and she wraps her fingers around one of yours. You wiggle it – waving to your mom’s name, to the petals gently fluttering in the breeze.

“Mom,” you sniff, “this is Ellie.”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #babydaddy!joel miller #tw pregnancy

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heeology · 19 days

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i want nobody but you | p.sh

synopsis → you and sunghoon have known each other your whole lives and although you've both dealt with jokes from classmates since elementary school on how you two would end up together, that never ended up happening; you two would brush it off and then move on. you never really thought about pursuing something with him romantically, especially since you like things with a more casual approach. but once sunghoon's girlfriend becomes a part of the picture, you can't help but feel these feelings consume you. being the way you are, however, you managed to push them down and you at least thought you got over them until you realize maybe they never left at all. or even worse: they were always there.

feat. → yujin (ive) & sungchan (riize)

genre → college au, friends to somewhat enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst (eh, ig), slowburn (ig? srry lmao)

pairing → nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings → MDNI, smoking !! (reader and sunghoon both smoke), drinking, cursing, mention(s?) of death, mention of hookups, reader is called and referred to (sometimes self referred to) as a: slut/whore; slutshaming, !! potential sh reference (pinching/hitting self; dk if that counts, but it's not mentioned after) !!, mentions of sex (obvi)

w.c. → 22.7k

a/n → long time no see lol. lmk if u would be interested in seeing some pics i took at the enha concert i went to :)) (i won't do vids because i was screaming like a baboon lmao) p.s. bear w me bc ik this is a long one, but i feel like i owe you all since i've been gone for practically a century, but pls give it a chance, i'm on my knees begging bc this took 3 days

disclaimer !! → i don’t ship any idols i portray as dating in this story irl nor do i have the intent to portray anyone in this story in a negative light, this is just for creative purposes, babes <3; this is all just fiction, take it lightly pls and thx

!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!

Today has been a long day. You groan as you take a seat on a bench somewhere near the lecture hall you just left and you close your eyes as you lean back against it. You had originally thought your senior year of high school was torturous, but being a senior in college was far worse. Your eyebrows furrow a bit when you feel the weight of the bench shift a bit, meaning someone has taken a seat beside you. Your eyes open a bit and you turn your head to see Sunghoon next to you. A sigh escapes your lips and you turn your head away, closing your eyes again.

Sunghoon sits there for a moment, looking at you. Lately, you two haven’t hung out as much and although he admittedly forgot to text you for the past week and half, you were still his best friend. He could argue, though, that “the phone works both ways”, so you’re not exactly innocent either. He’s seen you around campus, hanging out with some members of the basketball team, mainly the captain: Sungchan. You didn’t seem bothered by the lack of contact between the two of you, either, so it didn’t bother him or make him feel guilty that you haven’t hung out in just a few days. No…not at all.

“Nice to see you, too.” he mumbles. You stay quiet, honestly close to falling asleep on the bench, especially with the warm breeze that is gently blowing. He narrows his eyes a bit and leans back against the bench. He does the same as you, closing his eyes as he relaxes, but he frowns to himself. “You and Sungchan seem to be close.” he says, not really even understanding why he brought it up in the first place.

This piques your interest. “What about him.” you say rather than ask, still keeping your eyes closed.

Sunghoon shrugs, still not really sure why he cares who you hang out with or how often or who they are or…anything like that. Maybe it upsets him to think about the fact that you might replace him with someone cooler as your best friend; maybe he was too lame for you. How juvenile, he thought to himself. But that’s what it felt like, to him, at least. “Nothing. I’ve just seen you guys hanging out a lot, that’s all.” Sunghoon replies.

“How would you know that; we haven’t really hung out or talked lately.” you reply, not meaning to sound snarky, but it most likely came across that way.

Sunghoon scoffs softly. “I have eyes; I can still see who you talk to.”

You open your eyes a bit and turn your head to look at him. “Stalker.” you tease.

Sunghoon opens his eyes, almost as if he can feel you looking at him and he rolls them, not amused. “Am not…I’m just trying to start a conversation or whatever.”

“About the people I talk to?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “About anything…” It stays quiet for a moment. “It’s just been a while since we’ve talked.”

“And whose fault is that?” You ask, rhetorically.

Sunghoon frowns. “Well, I’ve just been busy-”

You scoff, “Yeah. I know.” You reply dryly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that that’s what you always say whenever we don’t talk to each other for a while. Like, I get it, you’re dating Yujin, big whoop.”

You’ve considered the possibility that he has just been busy with schoolwork, but no matter how many times you would give him the benefit of the doubt, it always ended up being because he was hanging out with Yujin. You weren’t really mad, per say, just annoyed. Severely annoyed. But what could you do? Ever since they started dating freshman year, you’ve felt like you were on the backburner. Which, again, you can’t really be upset about that. Afterall, she’s his girlfriend, whether you liked it or not. There is nothing wrong with her, you two got along fine, even if you don’t really talk or are even friends. You don’t hate her, not for any valid reasons, anyway. Still, despite how many people you know, Sunghoon is your only real friend and always has been. But it’s times like these when it feels like he means more to you than you mean to him.

“She’s my girlfriend.” He says, matter-of-factly.

You roll your eyes at his statement. “I know that,” you retort with annoyance, “you only ever bring it up every chance you get.”

“You seriously can’t be annoyed that I spend time with my own girlfriend.” He responds with the same tone.

Sometimes, Sunghoon gets caught up in things. Like being with Yujin, for example. He’ll be with her and then it just slips his mind to respond to a text of yours or to ask if you want to do something, he can’t help it. He knows that he’s your best friend and he’s certain that you’re his, too. Sure, Yujin means a lot to him, but you mean more, whether he would admit that or not. He just wants to make everything balanced, for everything to work out. But a part of him feels like something has been off since he started dating Yujin. Sure, he’s had other girlfriends, but never one for longer than a few months. This relationship is important to him. What if Yujin is the one? He can’t screw it up and he’s afraid to, so he makes sure to spend as much time with her as he can. He thought you would understand, but apparently not.

You’ve met Sunghoon’s other girlfriends, none of which bothered you as much as Yujin. Maybe because this one seems more serious. Maybe because she seems more important to him. The thought makes your stomach curdle. This whole situation makes your stomach curdle. You shouldn’t care so much, but you do. You hate that. “Whatever.” you reply, honestly not having thought of anything better to respond with. What were you supposed to say to that? Of course you understood, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.

“Besides, like I said, you and Sungchan have been hanging out a lot recently. Don’t act like you’ve never blown me off to hang out with him.” Sunghoon says.

“Barely.”

“Not barely. A lot. ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to his basketball game to watch’, ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to a party,’ ‘Oh, Sungchan wants to hook up’, ‘Oh, Sungchan this and Sungchan that’.” Sunghoon mocks, annoyed.

You frown. “Why do you care? You’ve got a girlfriend, so just hang out with her instead.”

Sunghoon frowns as well. “That’s not the point. The point is that you ditch me just the same to hang out with a guy who you’re not even dating. You don’t talk to me sometimes when you’re with him or another guy, so why are you so upset that I do the same with Yujin, who I’m actually dating?”

“Stop rubbing in the fact that you’re dating someone. Good for you, who gives a shit? So what if I do the same? It’s only because you do it first!” you argue back. You grab your backpack and stand up as you put it on. You start walking away from him and he watches you as you leave.

“Great talk!” he calls out to you in a sarcastic manner.

He didn’t mean to make you upset or try to “rub his relationship” in your face, he would never try to intentionally make you upset. So, why did he care? He doesn’t, it’s as simple as that. Maybe you doing the same thing to him with Sungchan bothered him a little. Maybe you wanting to spend your time instead with someone else you’re not even dating bothered him a little. But it’s not like he actually cared or anything. He knows he can’t tell you what to do or who to see, so why does he care? He knows he blew you off, so why didn’t he just apologize? Why did he bring up Sungchan in the first place? Sunghoon sits on the bench for a moment, rethinking things. Why was he acting like you were ignoring him when it was kind of the other way around? He sighs and closes his eyes again. He’ll figure it out later.

You let out a long yawn as the dim glow from your computer screen shines on your face. It’s three in the morning, and sure, you have a class tomorrow, but you can’t sleep and figure you can just skip your lecture anyway. Even if your brightness was all the way down, it still hurt your eyes every so often, so you would close them to make them feel better while you listened to the show you were watching. You hear your phone ding and your eyes open, your hand reaching for your phone to see the text.

“are you awake?” Sunghoon texts.

He knows you are. You almost always are, which is why he knew you would see the message. Although, he did anticipate the idea of you ignoring him. You were good at things like that, things that required a stubborn attitude. He didn’t mind your stubbornness, though. He didn’t mind anything when it came to you. He waited a bit, sitting in the darkness with just the light of his phone screen, his thumb gently tapping it so it doesn’t automatically turn off as he waits for you to text back.

“yeah.” you text back.

It took you a few minutes and in all honesty, you almost didn’t respond. But you missed him, which even if he asks directly, you would deny. You wonder if he missed you too, but you shake that thought away.

“still pissy?”

This makes you laugh a little. Yes, you were, but you still found it a little funny.

“shut up.” you text back.

“wanna hang out?”

You sigh. Now he wants to? It takes you a while to reply with anything as you just stare at his message.

“can u bring the usual?” you reply.

He smiles at your text. “duh” he texts back.

You smile a bit, looking forward to actually hanging out with him. The whole argument was dumb anyway and you just wanted your best friend back. And after a while of waiting, you hear a knock on your dorm room door. You get up from your bed and unlock it, opening it as you step outside. He smiles softly when he sees you and you smile a bit back. You both quietly leave your dorm building before going outside and sitting on the curb. He sets the plastic bag he was carrying between you two and opens a bottle of beer before handing it to you. You take it and he opens his own, both of you taking a sip as a cool breeze blows softly.

“Sorry about earlier,” he says quietly, “and for not talking to you for a week. I just got caught up with Yujin, you know?”

You take another drink, not really interested in discussing this anymore. “It’s fine.”

“I also wasn’t trying to rub her and I into your face and make you feel bad or anything, it’s just…” he trails off. It’s silent for a moment as you both drink. “This week has been shitty.” he mumbles.

“Amen to that.” you reply. He chuckles softly and you both clink your bottles before smiling and taking another drink.

“How’s your love life going, anyway?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Sure, there were other things he wanted to talk about, could talk about, but this is what slipped out of his mouth first. He was actually curious, he truly wants to know. He just wants to see you happy.

You shrug, “The same; just hook ups.”

He looks at you for a moment. That’s it? You’ve been hooking up with people since the beginning of high school. Sure, you’ve dated some guys before, but they were all assholes; Sunghoon never liked them. He couldn’t stand them, to put it plainly. You deserve better, and he knows that. But he also knows you’re not into relationships. You like things to be simple and direct. But when it comes to how you feel, he knew you weren’t very expressive with that. Only when it comes to getting what you want. He kind of admires that about you.

“So…no one in particular? You just kind of…go after who you think is the hottest?”

You grin, “Something like that.” you take a sip, “So…how are things going with Yujin?”

You honestly hate that you asked. Why would you? Why would you want to hear about that? Surely, things must be going wonderfully if he’s so wrapped up in all that is her. But you’re still friends. It’s normal to ask these kinds of questions, right? Maybe he won’t really say much anyway and you’ll be a good friend for even asking. That’s what you’re hoping for, at least.

"Well... things have been kind of weird. She's been acting kinda distant recently; I don't know how else to explain it. She just seems really bored all the time. Like, the sex is good but it just seems like she's not into me anymore or something." he replies.

You give him a weird look as he brings up the topic of sex with Yujin. Gross. Just...Gross.

“Describing sex with your ‘girlfriend’ as good is never a good thing.” you say as you laugh a bit, taking a sip.

Sunghoon scoffs a bit. Why did it seem like you were happy to hear that? It irritated him a bit, but he brushed it off. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s more like…it’s become something that’s routine.”

“Yeah, that’s probably not a good sign.”

Sunghoon sighs. "I know... it's just so weird though. I mean, we've been together for so long, and she's never been the type to get bored like this. It just sucks. I'm worried if something happened between us that's making her not want to be with me anymore."

You look at him for a moment as he drinks. You hate seeing him upset and you know that Yujin means a lot to him, especially since this is his first big relationship. You frown a bit as you drink. “Have you asked her?” you take another sip, “Aren’t people in relationships supposed to communicate and shit?”

"Yeah, I asked her and she said everything was fine, but like... I don't know. I just have a feeling that she's not telling me something, and I've tried asking her multiple times, but every time, she always says everything's fine." he takes another drink. “That’s pretty much what I’ve been spending last week doing, just…trying to fix what may not even be broken.” he mumbles.

You feel bad now for getting upset at him for blowing you off. It makes sense and you just got defensive again, not really knowing what he was doing. You sit there for a moment, not really sure what to say. Sunghoon didn’t mind the silence, though. He was trying to focus on Yujin and figure out why things feel this way when maybe, they aren’t even that way at all. Maybe it’s him. He isn’t sure, but he is sure that he already feels a million times better being with you, even if it is just sitting next to each other on a curb in silence.

“Do you cum?” you ask.

Sunghoon chokes on his beer a little, hitting his chest a bit as he coughs. He looks at you, not expecting your question at all, and as for you, well, you weren’t really expecting to ask it. It kind of just…came out. Your initial thought process was to ask more about his feelings on things in the relationship, seeming more like a routine, but it kind of led to you wondering if he even cums. In your defense, you thought that if he doesn’t, then maybe the relationship is going downhill. You look at him, as if what you asked was totally normal, taking another sip of your beer. He looks back at you, seeming to have processed what you asked.

“...yeah, pretty much every time.”

“Does she?”

Again, not something you really want to know, but you do want to help him.

“...sometimes, but most of the time she doesn’t.”

You suck air through your teeth, “Uh-oh.”

“It’s not a big deal, you know, so what if sometimes we don’t? It’s not about that, it’s just about…connecting or whatever.” he mumbles as he takes a sip.

“So, then what? Do you guys just like…do it yourself?”

“Yeah, so?”

You laugh. You can’t help it, it’s just too funny. Not his obvious pain with his relationship kind of going south, but the fact that he finds this to be normal. You at least found that funny.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, pissed off, but also slightly embarrassed.

“Dude, I'm not a relationship expert, but like...shouldn't people who have sex, I don't know, finish every time? I mean, I have never really had that happen often with any of the guys I hook up with, but hey, what do I know.”

"Well... I guess, but it's not a big deal to me. As long as she enjoys it, that's what's important. And, it's not like it happens all the time. Sometimes she does finish, but it's just... well, not as often as I would hope..." he takes another sip.

You roll your eyes to yourself. Kind of out of instinct. If you’re going to be frank, you don’t give a damn about her.

You shrug, “I don’t know,” you take another sip, “you say you don’t cum sometimes, how come?”

“I don’t know…it just happens?”

You shake your head, “Nah, there’s a reason.”

“But the reason is dumb and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” he takes another sip.

“Do you think she’s hot?”

What a stupid question. You wish you didn’t ask it. Why would you want to hear him talk about yet again how hot he thinks she is. It makes your blood boil and you would rather bash yourself over the head with your beer bottle than hear him talk about how perfect she is. But, there is a small, small part of you hoping for a certain answer. Only a small part.

“Of course I do.” he replies, simply.

“So, then, what’s the problem?”

“Sometimes I have a hard time finishing, happy? Jesus…” he mumbles as he drinks some more.

You roll your eyes. You’ve known each other your whole lives, you know when he’s lying.

“Mmm,” you take another sip, “no, you see, sometimes when I hook up with guys, I suddenly don't feel attracted to them, so then sometimes I don't finish. So do you just like sometimes not like her or something?”

He shakes his head, "No, I'm always attracted to her. But... sometimes I have a hard time finishing, and I don't know why that is."

“What do you think about?” you ask, kind of quietly.

A part of you didn’t want to ask that, besides, this conversation was becoming weird. But that small, small part of you was so desperately hoping for a certain answer. Fucked up? Yeah, most definitely, but that didn’t seem to stop you.

“About what?” he asks, actually clueless.

“When you’re having sex, what do you think about?” you ask again, taking a sip of your beer.

“...about her, that’s what you’re supposed to do, so,” he trails off, “Sometimes I…think about other things...” he answers, blushing a bit.

“Like what?”

“Just…random stuff. Why do you want to know anyway?” he asks, getting slightly defensive.

“Maybe that's what's distracting you. I don't know, spice things up with her or something. Or have an actual conversation with her about how you feel or whatever.” you mutter as you finish your beer.

He takes another sip of his beer. “Why are you acting like some sort of relationship counselor? You’ve never even really been in a relationship yourself.”

Maybe he wanted to piss you off with what he said, but only so you could back off. “Spice things up”? Yujin and him are fine, he’s deciding that right here, right now. He doesn’t want your help with this or to even discuss it anymore with you. It feels weird. Besides, he doesn’t want you to think that he’s…not good at sex. Not for any other reasons, just that…he doesn’t want you to think that about him.

You set your bottle down and look at him. “Because you’re my friend? I don’t know. Why do you care?” You hold your hand out, wanting him to hand the cigarettes he brought while your other hand digs into your sweatpants pocket for your lighter.

He reaches into the bag and hands them to you, knowing full well you could have grabbed them yourself, yet he still obliged. “So, in all of your hooking up, have you ever had feelings for anyone you hooked up with? And not those bullshit feelings for your douchebag exes, like actual feelings. Or have they all just been hookups?” he asks, hoping to change the subject.

You open the pack, “Hookups.”

“Every single one?”

“Mhm.” you answer, taking one out and putting it into your mouth, lighting it as you take a drag.

“So you’ve never fallen in love with anyone you’ve hooked up with?”

You laugh, “Fallen in love? How stupid.” you say as you take another drag.

“Okay, love might be a strong word, but like, have you never developed feelings for any of the people you’ve hooked up with?” he asks, finishing his beer.

“Nah.”

"Right, right. So, you're just all about hookups then, and that's cool, no shame or anything; I get it. But you've never felt even just a little bit of loneliness from it?" he asks as he sets his bottle down. You ignore his question, taking another drag. He knows by your reaction that he’s said something that bothers you. Whenever anything is mentioned that may reveal how you truly feel, you just block it off and move on. He sighs, not too sure why he bothered asking since you always ignore these types of topics. Sometimes, he wished you wouldn’t. He wished you would be more open with him. It feels like he can talk to you about anything and everything, even if sometimes he doesn’t want to, but he does anyway because you…well, you’re you. "I mean, it's gotta get kinda boring... always hooking up, never really connecting with anyone. Unless you don't care about that kind of thing."

“Love is stupid.” you reply flatly.

What a groundbreaking opinion. Truly, nobody has ever felt or thought the same thing. Great stuff. Sunghoon sighs at your answer, not really getting why you won’t just tell him. He wants you to. He can’t really explain why. It doesn’t have to do with wanting to get some satisfaction out of helping you or changing you, but rather, sometimes he feels like he knows nothing about you. You’re important to him, more than you could possibly understand, but still, sometimes, you seem so distant; like a stranger. He just wants to know that you trust him.

“So, just because love hasn’t exactly worked out in your life, you think love is stupid? I don’t really think that’s fair…just because your ex boyfriends were assholes doesn’t mean that true love doesn’t exist.”

For some reason, him talking about true love pisses you off. It pisses you off greatly. You can feel your skin crawl and anger boiling up inside you, so you take a drag from your cigarette, blowing out the smoke, wishing it was something else you were getting rid of.

“It’s not about them.” you take another drag, “Do you love Yujin?”

You think you know the answer already. No, you know the answer indefinitely. There is only one answer. Why would he have spent the past three–almost four years–dating her if he didn’t? You think about all the times he talked about her when they first started dating. You try not to, but your mind recalls all the details, how he said them, what he said, how he looked while he was talking. It made you sick.

His heart sinks a little when you ask the question. He stares at you for a moment, not responding to your question right away. He takes a long deep breath before he answers, “Yes.” You sit silent. You heard his answer, but you don’t want to acknowledge it. You take another drag from your cigarette, a longer one this time, blowing out the smoke slowly as you tap some of the tobacco from the butt of it off. “Do you…not believe me?” he asks, watching you. He can tell something is on your mind, you’re just having trouble saying it. He’s not asking to be snarky or anything, he asks in more of a gentle tone, just wanting you to open up or at least just say something remotely close to how you feel.

“No, I do.” you answer quietly. For some reason, it hurts to say that. It’s true, though; you do believe him…unfortunately.

Silence consumes the both of you, just sitting on the curb as time passes. Crickets chip softly in the distance and the subtle burn of the tobacco from your cigarette fills it a bit, but not enough. He stares at you, both annoyed and concerned.

“Then what is it? Are you trying to say there’s something wrong with my relationship?” he asks, suddenly defensive. Even he, himself, doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so defensive about it, especially since he brought up the issue earlier, but he doesn’t like thinking that you think there is something wrong.

“Jesus, it’s not like that.” you respond, knowing full and well it is like that.

“Then spit it out; what are you trying to say?”

“Shut up.”

You take another drag and he rolls his eyes, annoyed. “You know, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, I know, but you’re worse.”

You take another drag, genuinely wanting him to shut up, or for things to be normal. Or better yet, for things not to be complicated. “Go cry about it to your girlfriend.”

“Screw you.”

“Ditto.”

“Whatever.” he says, pissed off.

“Yeah, whatever.” you mumble as you take another drag.

He continues to look at you, pissed off at how you don’t seem to care about anything. He used to like that a lot about you, how you never cared about what people thought and are able to brush anything off. Maybe “used to” is a bit strong, he still likes that about you, but for right now, it’s incredibly infuriating.

“You know, I’ve noticed that you always avoid giving direct answers to questions. Maybe that’s why you’re so scared of commitment; Not willing to really speak your mind out of fear of hurting someone’s feelings or your own.” he says, hoping this would piss you off enough to just say how you feel.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” you say as you continue smoking your cigarette.

“No, I won't shut up. In fact, I'm gonna keep talking because this is one of the rare occasions where we’re actually having a serious conversation and not just talking about petty stuff.”

You roll your eyes again. “I don’t want to.” you reply, simply.

“Too bad. because I am really curious about it. So, I’m just gonna keep asking questions. Like, have you ever experienced real heartbreak before? Because you seem like the type that just throws people away and moves on with no remorse.” You become quiet. Sure, you weren’t answering before, well, barely, anyway. But this time, you feel like you’re shrinking. That type of quiet. The type of quiet you become when you feel like you got caught and you don’t want to admit to what you did. You just smoke your cigarette. “And you don’t just avoid answering questions about your romantic life, either. You do the same thing when it comes to family, friends, and anyone else. You just push people away and never actually let anyone get to know the real you.”

“You know the real me.” you say, looking at him. In all honesty, you were insulted. He was seriously telling you that he “doesn’t know the real you” after you guys have been friends since you were two years old? What does that say about your friendship?

“No, I really don’t. All I know about you is the surface layer stuff that you’re willing to share, but I don't actually know you. No one does. Because you never let anyone get close enough.” he says as he looks you directly in the eyes, meaning every word he says. Well, maybe not every word, but it is how he feels. He doesn’t want you to get frustrated, but if that’s what it takes for you to finally say how you feel, then so be it. You do feel yourself getting frustrated and you look away, taking another drag. “And don’t deny it, ‘cause you know it’s true. You just push people away and never let yourself be vulnerable, ‘cause if you did, then they could use that vulnerability against you. And god forbid anybody ever find out about your deepest insecurities-”

“Shut the fuck up.” you say, feeling anger seethe out of you. He sits there, somewhat stunned by your response. Not exactly that you became angry, but more so that he actually got a reaction out of you. He watches you as you put your cigarette out and stand up. “I’m going back to my room.” you mutter.

He stands up. “Seriously?” he says as he sees you start to walk away. He scoffs. “You’re just going to leave? Like that? Whatever.” he mumbles as he grabs the pack of cigarettes you put back into the bag (the pack he specifically bought for you and always buys whenever you guys hang out like this). He opens it and grabs one, lighting it as he sees you turn around. You walk back over to him and snatch the pack of cigarettes from his hand. “The hell?” he asks, annoyed, as he tries to grab it back.

You hold it out of his reach. “You don’t even like red Marlboros.” you say, almost tempted to take the one out of his mouth, too just to spite him.

“Give it back.” he says sternly as he takes a small drag from the one in his mouth, holding it between his fingers as he glares at you.

“No.”

“It’s my pack of cigarettes.”

“That you bought for me.”

“And I want it back.”

“Well, tough shit, I’m not giving it back.”

“Give it.” he says as he holds out his hand. You ignore him and turn around, starting to walk away. He takes another drag, grimacing because you’re right, he doesn’t like this brand, but he’s only doing this to spite you. He gets even more pissed off just seeing you walk away. “Why are you always such a pain in the ass?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” you yell back.

He quickly puts out the cigarette and puts the bottles into the bag before catching up to you. “I'm not the one who’s always being super mean and acting all mysterious about everything. Like, what’s with all the attitude and snarky comments? You’ve been extra shitty lately.”

“Fuck you.”

He scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know, you’re being shitty, you just don’t wanna admit it.”

You stop walking and turn to look at him, throwing the pack at him. “Then go away.”

He grits his teeth and grabs the pack from the ground. He looks at you, “Whatever. I'm leaving. But just know, one of these days, you’re going to actually push someone away for good.”

“Hopefully it’s you.” you say as you cross your arms.

“Yeah, me too. Because I am so fed up with your bullshit.”

“Great. Go away.”

He rolls his eyes and walks past you, his arm bumping into yours purposefully as he heads back to his dorm.

As Sunghoon makes his way to his lecture, he sees Yujin in the distance talking to some of her friends. He thinks about your conversation last night. He had hopes of confiding in you a bit more about how he felt, but of course that’s not the way things panned out. He had no time to focus on that, even if he was feeling even worse now that he possibly lost his best friend for good. Shit…did he really lose you for good? He feels his blood run cold, but he’s trying to forget it and focus on her. She’s his girlfriend, he has to remember that. He walks up to her, smiling a bit. She looks at him.

“Oh…hey.” she says softly.

“Hey…can we talk for a minute?” She nods her head and stands still. Sunghoon glances at her friends and then looks back at her. “...in private?” Yujin glances at her friends before following Sunghoon over into the library, taking a seat at a table near one of the back bookshelves, a little bit of space between the two of them. “Is there a reason you’ve been acting like this lately? Do you not…want to be with me anymore?” Sunghoon asks, just getting straight to the point.

Yujin is quiet for a moment. “Everything is fine.” she says.

He crosses his arms, feeling himself getting frustrated. Why can’t people just be direct like you? Yeah, you’re not really direct with your feelings, but you are when it comes to anything else. “Are you sure? Because you've been really distant. We haven't been talking as often, you barely want to spend time with me... and it feels like you're avoiding being intimate with me, too. I had to almost beg you to spend time with me last week. Is there really nothing? Are you sure everything is fine?” Yujin listens and stays quiet. Sunghoon sighs. "You know, couples are supposed to communicate and shit, right? If something is bothering you, just come out and say it." Sure, he took a page from your book with what you said last night and perhaps some of what you said rang true after all, but he’s not really looking to give you a “you were right” moment at this time.

“You being friends with her bothers me.” Yujin says as she crosses her arms.

Sunghoon freezes for a moment, taken aback by her response. “...are you being serious?” he asks, not totally sure if she’s just messing with him.

“You hang out with her more than me to the point that I had to ask you to stop texting her whenever we would hang out and you always say you’re “just best friends”, but I don’t believe you. Do you have feelings for her?”

“Do YOU think I have feelings for her?” Sunghoon asks, becoming defensive while also avoiding answering her question directly.

“Yes.” she answers, simply.

“What, do you think I’ll dump you for her or something?”

"She's a slut. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. I don't care if you guys are close, I'm worried she is going to make a move on you and then you break up with me just for her to use you once and then ruin you; She's bad news." Yujin says.

He feels his jaw drop a bit at what she says. Did she seriously just say that? And so boldly? He feels himself become upset about the way she talks about you. He wants to defend you, he always has, but he frowns. What if this leads to Yujin breaking up with him? You did say last night that you two were done with each other, so why does it matter? He doesn’t agree with Yujin, but he wants to save this relationship…

“You really think I'm that naive? That I'd fall for a girl like her? Just because we’re close friends doesn’t mean I automatically get feelings for her and forget about you. You know I'm smart enough to not get mixed up with someone like her.” he says, feeling like his heart is breaking as he says it. He wants Yujin to feel reassured, but after saying this…it doesn’t feel worth it.

“So you agree.” Yujin says.

Sunghoon sits there, feeling like he’s about to throw up. Why is this so hard? Why can’t he just say ‘yes’ and move on? Why can’t he be happy with Yujin? He just nods his head. “I wouldn’t fall for someone like her.” he says extremely quietly, almost as if he never wanted those words to leave his mouth. But they did and it was too late.

Yujin smiles, satisfied by his answer. She leans in and kisses his lips quickly, “I believe you.” she says softly.

Sunghoon hesitates, not glad that she believes him. Not glad that she said those things about you. Not glad that he said those things about you. He’s just not happy. He gives her a small smile and kisses her cheek quickly. “I’m glad.”

You are sitting on a bench, scrolling through your phone as you wait for your next lecture to start soon. Sunghoon sees you as he exits his lecture hall and his gaze lingers on you for a moment. He sighs to himself a bit, feeling like he was being pulled in two different directions. The more he thinks about it, he feels as though Yujin was giving him an ultimatum to choose you or her. If she said it outright, there isn’t a cell in his body that would hesitate to choose you. He thinks back to his conversation with Yujin in the library and he feels sick; he knows he did something wrong.

He walks over to you and takes a seat next to you, just wanting to make up and move on. To his surprise, however, you get up immediately and take your bag before walking away. He sits there, confused, but figures you’re still upset about the argument last night. He gets up and he follows you before catching up and gently grabbing your arm, but you end up taking it away and start walking again. He bites the inside of his cheek before stepping in front of you, “Why are you walking away from me?”

“Get away from me.”

“No.” he said as quickly as the words left your mouth.

You look at him, feeling your eyes sting, hot tears wanting to form, but you blink them away. “You should probably go find your girlfriend, you wouldn’t want to be seen hanging out with a slut like me, right?” you ask rhetorically.

“Hey-,” he cuts you off, frowning instantly when you call yourself that. “Stop it…you know I don’t see you that way.”

“That’s a fucking lie; I heard you talking to Yujin. Or are you surprised about that too since you were in the library and someone like me couldn’t possibly be in a place like that.” you say as you cross your arms, swallowing as if that will help mask your clear frustration.

“...what?” he asks quietly, freezing as he realizes what you’re saying.

“I heard you. I heard you agree with her when she called me a slut. I heard you say you "would never be stupid to fall for someone like me". Well, fuck you. Go be with your perfect girlfriend, asshole.” you say before you push past him, swallowing again, but this time to stop yourself from crying.

“Wait-” he tries to grab your arm again, but you pull it away and keep walking. He feels his heart sink as he watches you walk away. The world felt as if it just collapsed. He feels like he’s sinking and as he watches you become further from him, he feels like he’s lost everything. He’s holding his breath, not necessarily realizing he is, almost as if he exhales, he’s not sure he has the strength to take another breath knowing he’s hurt you; he doesn’t deserve to.

Everything moves in slow motion, all voices muffled, as Sunghoon feels himself being dragged inside of a party by Yujin. He can hear and see her laughing and talking with her friends as they walk inside the loud and crowded atmosphere, but he feels as if he’s hollow. He stands there like a zombie as Yujin talks and greets some of her friends. He’s not sure how it happened, especially since it was almost midnight and he honestly just wanted to go to sleep, but he somehow ended up here. His eyes felt heavy as they looked around the room, but he subconsciously stood up straighter when his eyes landed on you. It was like he had been resuscitated, his heart beating rapidly as he sees you and then he sees him.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, noticing how Sungchan was standing closely to you, how his eyes scanned every inch of your body with some stupid, smug smirk on his face. Sunghoon rolled his eyes again and grimaced at the sight. He sees how you whisper something into his ear, Sungchan grinning as he places his hand on your hip. Suddenly, Sunghoon’s heart stopped again as his gaze fixates on his hand. His hand grips Yujin’s tightly as he clenches his jaw and his other hand curls into a fist, his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. His breathing becomes heavy as he sees you smile, smile in a way he’s never had you smile at him before as your hand caresses Sungchan’s cheek while you clearly flirt back with him. Sunghoon was livid. He feels like an extra in his own life as he watches you fall for someone like that.

“Baby…?” Yujin asks, loosening her hand and taking it away from him since he was practically cutting off her circulation.

“I’m fine.” he mumbles, hints of anger and annoyance clear in his tone. He doesn’t look at her as he answers and she catches on.

She looks to where his gaze is and then she looks back at him, upset. “Why are you looking at her?” she asks as she crosses her arms. “You told me you don’t have feelings for her. I’m your girlfriend, not her.”

“Stop, Yujin, it’s not like that…” he mumbles, annoyed as he keeps looking at you and Sungchan. He watches as Sungchan puts his arm around your waist and he feels like the air has just been knocked out of him. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he glares at the two of you, wanting nothing more than to shove him off of you.

Yujin scoffs, “I don’t even see how you could have feelings for a slut like her.” she mumbles, taking a sip of a drink her friend brought for her. Sunghoon keeps his attention on you. How Sungchan keeps you close, whispers in your ear to make you giggle and you indulge in it, how he touches you, and how he looks at you as if he’s some sick animal that wants to devour you. “Did you even hear me?” Yujin asks, pissed off.

“Yeah, I heard you.” Sunghoon mumbles as he continues watching the two of you.

Yujin glares at him and then grabs his hand, dragging him away from her friends. Sunghoon just goes along with it and as Yujin starts dragging him upstairs, Sungchan leas in and kisses you. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he continues going upstairs with Yujin, her dragging him into an empty bedroom and closes the door behind them. Sunghoon feels like all thoughts had escaped him when he saw that and he stands there with only one thing on his mind: you.

“Let’s have sex.” Yujin says as she looks at him.

Sunghoon snaps out of it and looks at her, feeling like this is his first time seeing her tonight. He looks at her in confusion, not wanting to since he only has you on his mind, but he doesn’t want to upset her any further, so he nods his head. Yujin pulls him towards her and kisses him. He hesitates, feeling himself grimace, but he tries to ignore it and kiss her back. He doesn’t want to be up here with her, he wants to be down there with you. As they continue to kiss, Yujin begins to undress herself and Sunghoon feels himself tense up. He tries to forget about you and focus on her, thinking maybe helping her undress would help, but it doesn’t. Not even a little bit.

Yujin moves them over to the bed as she keeps kissing him and he sits there, partially kissing her back and also sitting stiff as a board. He knows this is supposed to be hot for him, having a practically naked girl on him, but he only finds himself wishing it was you. Yujin kisses down his neck as she takes off his shirt and he feels like he’s zoning out, not moving a muscle. Yujin moves her hands along his chest and down his body and then stops kissing him as she looks at him.

“You’re not even hard.” she says as she frowns. Sunghoon just stares at her, not necessarily surprised, but he still feels bad. "What the hell do you even like about her? She's a fucking whore who opens her legs for any and every guy. She has nothing else to offer besides her fucking pussy, which probably is already stretched beyond repair." Yujin says, angry. "She's nothing! She's not even special and yet she always gets any guy she wants. Well, why does she get you too?" Yujin tears up. "I'M your girlfriend, not her! Do you even love me?" Yujin asks, frustrated.

Sunghoon knows her anger is justified and he feels awful for feeling like he wants her to be you instead. As he watches and hears her say all of these things, he feels bad for treating her like this, but he also becomes angry at listening to what she’s saying about you. He feels bad for saying it feels like he doesn’t know you, because he does, and he knows you’re nothing like who she says you are.

“Answer me!” Yujin yells.

“I do love you.” Sunghoon says quickly.

“...do you love her?”

He stays quiet. Does he love you? He doesn’t know how to answer that. He knows he cares about you more than anyone else, he knows that even when you two fight, he would never want anyone else but you to be by his side, he knows that you’re the only one who gets him, he knows he likes making you smile and laugh and sometimes when you look at him, he feels like he can just look back at you forever. But is that love? Then, what is it he feels for Yujin? Does he love you and not her? How come he never realized it before? Did he always feel this way?

"Why the hell did you even ask me out? Why did you even ask me to be your girlfriend if all this time, you've wanted her? If all this time you've been in love with her?" Yujin asks, furious.

What is he supposed to say? Has he always been in love with you? He thinks for a moment. He thinks about why he asked her out in the first place, about a week after you hooked up with some guy after you two just started college. Was that the reason? Was it because he just wanted something and he knows deep down, you don’t want the same, so he found it somewhere else? You…everything has always been about you, his whole world has always revolved around you.

Yujin gets up and gets dressed. "If you want to be with her so badly, fine. But just know, she's still a whore. She'll just use you and then toss you aside." Yujin says as she finishes getting dressed. "But by all means, go sleep with that slut. We're done." Yujin says as she leaves the room.

Sunghoon sits on the bed in silence. Just great. Now, he doesn’t have a girlfriend and worst of all, he still can’t have you. He sits there for a moment longer before getting up and putting back on his shirt. Screw this party, he shouldn’t have come anyway. He walks out of the bedroom and goes downstairs, feeling like his mind is in a different place as he walks outside. He stops and notices you sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette. He feels relieved, not seeing you in Sungchan’s arms, and for a split second, he wishes he could just walk over and take you into his, but he pushes that thought away and just decides to take a seat beside you on the curb instead. You scoot away a bit from him, silence looming over the two of you and he feels even worse.

“You shouldn’t be sitting here, you know. Your girlfriend might get pissy.” you mumble as you exhale some smoke.

“I’m not with Yujin anymore.”

You pause for a moment, “...I saw you two go upstairs.”

“She just…got upset that I couldn’t get hard. I just had so many thoughts running through my mind…” he trails off, not wanting to ramble on about it.

“Whatever.” you say as you take another drag.

“I wish I never asked her out.” he says before taking a deep breath, feeling like he said something he didn’t even realize he was keeping a secret, not even from himself.

“Why are you telling me this? In case you forgot, I am not your friend anymore. Not after what you and her said about me this morning.” You take another drag, “It's one thing for her to call me a slut, I don't care about her, but you? You agreed with her. You made fun of me. You're supposed to be my best friend and you say I'm a slut and then that you aren't "stupid" enough to date "someone like me"? Fuck you, honestly. I was so pissed when I heard that. I know we fought the other night, but I never thought you would say that shit about me.” You take another drag. “So stop talking to me about your problems like we're still friends. You want nothing to do with "someone like me"? Well, then, you got it.”

Sunghoon stays silent, feeling as if everything around him is crumbling. You’re sitting maybe a foot away from him, but he feels like you’re on the other side of the planet. “I’m sorry.” he says softly, feeling ashamed to have talked about you like that.

You shake your head and continue smoking. “Whatever.”

“I miss you.” he says suddenly. “And, I shouldn’t have said any of that this morning. I was trying to reassure Yujin at your expense and…that was a big fuck up by me. None of what I said was worth any pain I’ve caused you.”

“Well, I don’t miss you. I don’t even care.”

Sunghoon stays quiet for a moment. “I have to fix this. Not because I feel like it will make me feel better to know I said sorry, because that doesn’t fix anything; that doesn’t make you feel better. I want to fix this because, even if you don’t believe me, I value our friendship more than anything in the world.”

You scoff and don’t reply, blinking away your tears as you continue smoking. “I don’t need you. Think what you want about me, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Hey…” he says tentatively as he notices you blinking away tears. He feels like he got punched in the gut and hates himself for knowing he’s the one that caused you to feel this way. “I know I hurt you…a lot.” he admits. He doesn’t know if you would want to listen to anything else he has to say, but he wants nothing more than for everything to go back to normal. To have you back. To just have you look at him. Anything.

You scoff, “You? As if.” you say as you put out your cigarette. “Don’t flatter yourself. Like I care about your opinion.” you say as you stand up. “I don’t need your pity and I don’t need your friendship. I don’t need you.” you say as you walk away and back into the party.

He doesn’t hesitate to follow you, not wanting to let you go. He can’t. He can’t bear the thought of you actually not being a part of his life, not for one goddamn second. He tries to catch up to you, but he stops in his tracks when he sees you go back over to Sungchan. It feels as though time has stopped and he was cursed with having to watch you be with him for the rest of his life. You whisper something to Sungchan, prompting him to grin and put his hands on your waist. Sunghoon feels like he’s about to collapse as he watches Sungchan whisper something back to you before taking your hand and leading you upstairs. He wants to do something, take you away from him, tell you that you mean so much more and are so much more than whatever Sungchan thinks about you. How you mean everything to him and watching you walk upstairs with some other guy feels as though you are taking away every piece of Sunghoon, breaking him apart. But he doesn’t and an hour passes before you walk back downstairs with Sungchan, his arm around your waist.

Sungchan whispers something in your ear before letting you go and walking over to his friends, all of them laughing and teasing him. You just walk back out of the party, feeling sick to your stomach; as if you just made the biggest mistake of your life; shame. As you walk down the sidewalk, the night suddenly feels much colder than before. You take out your cigarettes and start smoking another one. Sunghoon follows and catches up, “Can I have one?” he asks, not knowing what else to say, but wanting to say something. You stay quiet, but eventually extend the one you were smoking to him. You stop walking as he takes it, taking a drag as he stands beside you.

You hold out your hand, wanting it back and after he takes another inhale from it, he exchanges it back. You take another drag, staying quiet, as you extend it back to him. He takes it as you two share the cigarette and he hands it back to you, almost wanting to just hold your hand instead. You take a long drag, holding the smoke for a while before slowly exhaling. “...you were right.” you say quietly as you hold the cigarette out for him. “It is lonely.”

He takes the cigarette, feeling hopeful that this is the beginning of an honest conversation, and relieved that you’re opening up. He hands it back to you, “Are you lonely? Do you miss having a relationship?” he asks, softly, wanting to make sure he’s being cautious so he doesn’t hurt you again.

“Not the ones I used to be in, no. Those guys were…well, you know.”

“Yeah…” he mumbles. You sigh and take a seat on the curb. He follows suit, seeing if you’ll say something else, but deciding to break the silence. “So…what kind of guy do you want?” he asks, deep down hoping for a certain answer.

You don’t answer him and instead, ignore his question. In all honesty, you don’t know. Well, you do, but you’re too scared to admit it. “You were also right about me being a slut.”

“I-I didn’t mean it-”

“You know it, everybody else knows it…and I always knew it.” You take your cigarette back and take a drag. “Hearing you say it sucked, though, but I know it’s the truth.”

“I shouldn’t have said it. I was so caught up in trying to make Yujin feel better and fix things between us when it wasn’t worth it. Not when it came at your expense.”

“I know.”

“I should’ve still stuck up for you. It didn’t matter if she was my girlfriend, you don’t deserve to be talked about like that.”

You shrug and hand him the cigarette, lighting a new one for yourself to smoke. “I don’t care anymore. Hooking up with Sungchan just now made me realize it. Seeing and hearing his friends tease him for it…” you take a long drag, “I knew that’s what I am.”

He does the same and looks at you. “Did you want to hook up with him?”

“No.”

“Then, why did you do it?” You ignore his question and keep smoking. “Hey…” he says softly. He knows you’re avoiding his question, but he wants to hear what you have to say.

“What happened with you and Yujin tonight?” you ask, wanting to change the subject.

“Just…an argument.”

“About…?”

“That’s not important.”

“You wanted to tell me all about it earlier. You said something about you not getting hard and regretting asking her out. What the hell happened? I thought you loved her or whatever.” you mumble as you inhale more smoke, a part of you hoping it chokes you.

“I do love her. But I guess…it meant something different to her. She wanted things from me I couldn’t do.”

“Like what.”

“Like…her not wanting us to be friends anymore.”

You scoff before continuing to smoke. “You should’ve chosen her.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow as he takes a drag. “You think I shouldn't have chosen my friend who's been with me through thick and thin over someone who was basically controlling who I talked to?”

“She was just controlling that you don't talk to me. Can't blame her, she probably thought I would try to sleep with you or something. Besides, since when did us being friends for so long suddenly matter? It didn't when you agreed with her about me being a slut.”

“It matters to me.” He says, feeling his heart sink a little at your words. It seemed like you didn’t think your friendship meant anything. He takes another drag and sighs quietly before continuing. “You’re my best friend. I care about you more than anyone else.” You stay silent as you continue to smoke. “Do you really think I don’t care about you?” he asks, softly. You just keep smoking, not really sure how to answer. He sighs to himself as he does the same and his mind wanders to thinking about you and Sungchan again. He rolls his eyes to himself as he tries to push those thoughts out of his head.

“You asked me if I ever felt heartbreak when we fought that night, talking about if that’s why I have commitment issues or whatever.” you say as you take another drag. “Yeah…I have.”

“Was the heartbreak from…” he let’s the question linger in the air for a moment, “a relationship?” You shake your head. “So…what was it from then? Who broke your heart?”

You stay silent for a moment, just smoking “...i didn't realize I fell in love with him until he got a girlfriend, well, his first serious girlfriend. At first, I didn't really care, but then…” you go quiet for a moment as you keep looking ahead, not at him. “The way he talked about her, would smile a certain way when he was with her, like he's never smiled at me before...laughing at jokes they shared...seeing him kiss her, hold her hand…” you take another drag, “holding her hand..” you repeat, like you’re lost in thought. “It's something so stupid and simple, but I've never had a guy hold my hand romantically...but he held hers and I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do a damn thing but suddenly wish I was his girlfriend instead. And then I realized. I loved him.” you take another drag, “I loved him and he was in love with someone else.”

He stayed quiet the whole time you talked. He took in every single word. He took in how you said every single word, how you looked as you spoke. He felt his heart break for you. The way you talked about it was nothing like he’s ever heard you talk about; so…innocent. “Did you ever try to tell him how you felt?”

You stay quiet for a moment as you swallow. “I almost did. One time. I just felt so tired from pretending and I didn't want to just hookup with anyone anymore. I wanted to be his more than anything in the world. I almost told him and then…” you take another drag from your cigarette. “He started telling me about how he finally had sex with his girlfriend. How hot she is. How he had never seen anyone so beautiful. How he couldn't believe he was so lucky to be dating her. Fuck-” you pinch your thigh to stop yourself from crying as you take another drag. “I felt so...gross. I had never had a guy say that about me, never had a guy be proud to be with me, but the way he talked about her and everything he was saying...I knew he would laugh in my face if I, just some slut, was in love with him; he would feel grossed out or whatever. No matter how close I thought we were, I knew right then and there I would never be like her. Never like the girl he wanted.” you take another drag, “So I didn't say anything.”

Sunghoon stayed quiet again, feeling awful. He hated that you thought about yourself that way. He hated that other people had made you feel that…him included. He hated this guy, especially, for making you feel this way. What a piece of shit. You deserve nothing but the best and this guy pulls this bullshit with you? He was about ready to punch him in the face. “And you’re still friends with him? After he did all of this to you?”

“He’s all I’ve ever had.”

“He’s not all you have, though. What about me?” he asks, intending to make something positive out of this all. He just wants you to know how precious you are to him because he cares about you so much.

This, doesn’t help whatsoever, and you feel like you’re about to burst into tears. You can’t tell if he’s the idiot or if you are; maybe the latter. But when he says that, you just feel like sobbing, curling up into a ball, and dying right then and there. You pinch your thigh again, to prevent yourself from crying because you absolutely loathe it.

He notices and immediately puts his hand on yours to stop you. He hates seeing you like this and he looks at you, not wanting you to suppress this anymore.

His hand on yours, however, makes you feel even worse. Worse because it makes your stomach do flips and you can feel your heart beat faster. Worse because you know it only carries the connotation of a friend comforting a friend…nothing more. You pull your hand away and continue smoking.

He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t try to take your hand back. It hurts him to see you pull yourself away. He just wants to make you feel better, feel safe, feel loved. Feel nothing but happiness because that’s all you deserve. But you don’t. He wants to give you everything, and so, he tries again to comfort you. He reaches for your hand, gently taking it into his, it enveloping yours as he holds it as if it is the most delicate thing on earth.

“Don’t.” you whisper, taking your hand away.

You didn’t want to. God, you didn’t want to. His hand felt like silk against yours, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Compared to his, your hand was like felt, worth far less than his. You didn’t want him to hold your hand, not like this. You wanted it to mean something, have some sort of value. Not for comfort. Not because he’s your best friend. Not because he felt bad. But because he loved you. Because he wanted to hold your hand and be proud as he held it. Because he wanted to claim you as is. Because you wanted to be his.

He lets go of your hand and stays silent for a moment. It was as if a part of him died inside as you pulled away your hand. All the thoughts that he was having a few seconds ago were replaced by sadness. His hands tightened into fists from the frustration of being unable to comfort you or take away your sadness. He wanted so desperately to try again, but he knew that there was nothing he could do right now. Slowly, he takes another drag of his cigarette, and you do the same with yours.

“Did you cry whenever he would talk about his girlfriend like that? Did you cry anytime he complimented her?”

You don’t answer for a while. “Yeah. When he told me he loved her, I cried later. After that, I pretended like I didn't care. And for a while, it worked. I would just hook up with guys and I would still talk and hang out with him because he didn't treat me like what everyone else saw me as. He never did. And that's one of the reasons I fell in love with him, I guess, but then sometimes...he would start talking about her and then I just...felt worse. At some point, I just kind of felt numb about it, especially after he told me about the first time they had sex. He talked about it like it was so special...like she was so special...and I just decided then and there I couldn't love him. So, I just pretended and after a while, I thought I didn't love him anymore, but one night, he started talking about how he couldn't lose his girlfriend, how he wanted to make things with her work and I felt that same feeling again, like I was going to be sick. Then, I heard him say what he really thought about me and that was the last time I cried about him.”

“What did he say about you? Did he insult you?” he asks as he feels himself becoming angry, wondering what this jerk could’ve possibly said about you to make you feel this way. But, you don’t answer, you just remain quiet and that made him want to punch this guy even more. “Do you miss him?” he asks, quietly.

“...i miss being oblivious to the fact that I love him.”

He feels his heart drop when you say that. You still love him? He swallows, feeling like he’s choking and as if all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the atmosphere. “So…you do love him. You’re still in love with him?” Once you ignore him again, the answer is clear. “You do still love him…” he mumbles. Anger courses through his veins because you’re in love with someone so fucking awful. How could you give all of yourself to someone who is too blind to see how much you’re worth? How much you mean and value you provide to meaning of life it’s goddamn self? He watches as you continue smoking. “So, you mean to tell me, after everything he’s done to you, you still love him?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t know you’re in love with him?”

“I told you, I never told him.”

This doesn’t help him feel any less bad for you. Some douche was out and about being happy and in love while you suffer on the sidelines? “Are you ever going to tell him?”

You shake your head as you look down. How could you? Especially since you’re delivering this whole pathetic monologue and he still isn’t taking any goddamn hint.

“Is it because he’s still with his girlfriend?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” you say as you finish your cigarette.

He becomes frustrated, “Is he?”

“No.”

“So, they broke up.” You ignore his question once more. He waits a few seconds before speaking up again, “I’m taking that as a ‘yes’ then.”

“Why does it matter? Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?” he asks as if this question has the most obvious answer. He scoffs and takes another drag out of frustration. “Because I’m your best friend, dumbass.”

This only makes you frown as you pinch your thigh again to stop the tears threatening to fall. He frowns as well when he sees this and reaches his hand over again. “Stop.” he says as he grabs your hand. You look down at your hands and you take yours away again. He feels a lump form in his throat when you pull your hand away as a pit of sadness just keeps growing and growing in his stomach. “Why are you doing that? …do you honestly think I don’t care about you?” You just keep staring ahead of you, not looking at him once. He takes another drag and sighs. “Have I ever given you a reason for you to think that I don’t care? Have I hurt you like that guy did?”

His questions make you stay silent for a long time. You wish that you could just disappear. Or that you could go back in time and stop yourself from having these stupid feelings. Or…that you never met him in the first place. Maybe then things would be easier. Better.

“Just…answer me.” he says, pleading, almost. He wants you to understand that he is here for you, he always will be and nothing is going to get in the way of that anymore. He wants this to be clear, so he tries to hold your hand again to show his support, but you take it away once he does.

“Are you pretending or are you actually this clueless?” you ask, becoming frustrated, your voice having a hint of pain in it.

His stomach tightened when you rejected him once more. He doesn’t look at you, suddenly afraid to see your expression. He doesn’t know what to do, how to make you feel better. He stays silent for a moment and continues smoking. “Pretending about what?” he asks. You become increasingly frustrated and pinch your thigh again. He notices and grabs your hand again, “Stop.” he says sternly, but you pull your hand away.

“Jesus, you’re the guy.”

He feels himself freeze. “What the hell do you mean ‘I’m the guy’?”

“Are you dense?” you raise an eyebrow. “You’re the guy I’ve been talking about this whole damn time!”

“...i’m the guy?” he asks, completely stunned. You let out a huff of frustration and stand up, walking away. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and go after you. He grabs your arm to stop you. “Wait, you can’t just leave…”

You keep pinching your thigh, a part of you believing it will wake you up from this nightmare as you avoid his gaze. You take your arm away from his grip. “Just forget it.”

“No. You just said I’m the guy, right? The one you’re in love with?” He asks, all of his focus on you. You ignore his question and turn around, walking away. He groans and he moves in front of you, stopping you. “You love me?” But you just avoid his gaze and don’t answer his question. He sighs, “I’m not letting you leave until you tell me.”

“No.”

He frowns. “Look at me.” he whispers. “Please…” he moves closer to you. “Do you love me?”

“Why does it matter?”

“You tell me. Why doesn’t it matter?”

You punch your thigh harshly a few times as you finally look at him. Your breath hitches as tears well in your eyes, despite you trying to ignore them. “Because I’m just a slut.”

He grabs your hand and stops you. He feels panicked, not knowing what to do or say. He doesn’t want you to cry or punish yourself. “Stop it. Stop with that bullshit. You’re not a slut, don’t you dare ever call yourself that.”

“You said it yourself. You agree with everyone else. I know you don't feel the same. I know you'll never talk about me the way you talk about Yujin or see me the way you see her. I know you said you guys broke up, but so what? I know what I am and I know that's all I'll ever be.”

He feels tears prick his own eyes as he listens to you. He shakes his head, “Stop that. Stop saying that I’ll never feel the same. Stop saying that you’re just a slut.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter! It matters to me. You’re not just “some slut”. You’re my best friend.”

You frown as you feel the urge to cry become stronger. You take your hand away and you pinch your thigh again, just wanting the tears to go away. What he said made you feel awful. It’s not what you wanted to hear. You didn’t want to be just that…and he just kept reminding you that that’s all you are. “...do you honestly think that makes me feel better?”

He frowns, “Fine. Maybe it doesn’t make you feel better. But it should. Because it’s the fucking truth.”

“Are you even thinking about what I told you? Are you even thinking about how you're the guy I've been talking about? How every time you talked about Yujin, every time I saw you hold her hand, how you talked about her when you told me about the first time you guys had sex, that I just wanted to curl up and die? You don't get it. You calling me your best friend doesn't make me feel any fucking better. It makes me feel worse than when people call me a slut. But I don't want you to stand here and try to make me feel better, because if you think telling me you care about me because I'm your 'best friend' is going to make me feel better, then you haven't listened to a damn thing I've said.”

He stares at you sympathetically. He stares at you as he realizes just how badly he’s broken your heart. As he realizes he broke your heart.

“I don't want to be your best friend. I don't want you to tell me I'm your best friend.” You keep pinching your thigh harder, but tears roll down your cheeks anyway. “I wanted it to be me.” you say as you cry even though you keep pinching harder. “I wanted to hold your hand romantically. I wanted you to smile at me the way you did with her. I wanted you to talk about me the way you talked about her.” Your breath hitches as you cry and pinch your thigh harder, your nails digging into your skin. “I wanted to be special to you. I wanted you to tell me you love me. I wanted to be your girlfriend...more than anything in the world.” You cry harder even though you try not to and you dig your nails more into your thigh.

He’s never seen you cry. Not when you broke your arm, not when your pet goldfish died, not when your first boyfriend broke up with you, not even when you get incredibly frustrated. He has never seen you cry. But he hates it. He doesn’t want to see you so sad, so hurt, in so much pain…and he hated it even more because he–the one person you loved more than anything else–was the one who was making you feel this way. He pulls you into him, hugging you tightly, just wanting to take your pain away, just wanting you to…feel loved. But you push him away and wipe your tears, and he notices the imprints from your nails on your thighs. He doesn’t even realize it, but he reaches his hand out and gently touches the marks as he looks at them. He touches the ridges softly and your skin feels so smooth to him, so precious, but you push his hand away. His eyes travel up to meet yours and he sees you’ve stopped crying.

“Why wouldn’t you just have told me how you felt?” he asks, quietly.

“For starters, you had a girlfriend. The other reason: it doesn’t matter.”

“What if I never got with Yujin? What if I was single the whole time?”

“I didn’t realize I loved you until you started dating her…”

“Why her? I’ve dated other girls before, so why her?”

You shrug, “She’s the only one you really seemed to be serious about…the only one you told you loved. Besides…I’m not some sort of homewrecker.”

“I wish you told me.” he whispers. “You were never going to tell me?”

“No.”

“So, you were just hoping I would never find out?”

“Yes.”

“So, you were just going to keep that secret for the rest of your life?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you were just going to live with that pain forever?”

“Are you going to keep asking the same question?”

“I just want to know…” he says as if he’s desperate. “Why…why would you not tell me?”

“Because you were with Yujin! Because you kept telling me how much you loved her! How pretty you thought she was, how happy you were to be with her, how smart and kind and funny and fucking perfect you thought she was! You were happy. You were happy with someone who wasn't me and although that killed me, you were happy. I couldn't do that to you.” you say as your voice breaks.

“So that justified you suffering in silence? Why would you rather see me happy while you were in pain?”

You look at him like the answer was obvious. How does he not get it? You stare at him as you remain quiet, looking at him as if it’s your last time. “Because I love you.” you say, softly.

He feels like you’re looking at him as if he is the most special person to walk on earth. He swallows out of nervousness as he realizes you gave him your heart completely. “You love me so much that you were willing to put yourself through hell just to see me be happy?” He doesn’t feel worthy of that…but you seem to think he is. You love him.

“Wouldn’t you have done the same for Yujin?”

You don’t want to hear him answer this. You don’t want to know, but you feel like he doesn’t understand. You feel like you keep repeating yourself and he’s relishing in it.

He doesn’t know how to answer. Would he? Hearing how you describe your love for him, he realizes what he felt for Yujin maybe wasn’t love. Maybe it was comfort. Or security. Or the fact that someone wanted to be with him so seriously. Maybe he did love her, but…not the way you love him. This sounds like love. This sounds like what he was supposed to feel. “Yes…” he says, not really sure if that’s true. He wants to believe he loves her. He wants to believe he didn’t waste almost four years on something that ends up meaning absolutely nothing. He has to love her.

“Then you get it.”

“Did you just hope we would break up one day so you and I would get together?”

You sigh, “You still don't get it. I know you don't feel the same way. I know I am not the type of girl you want to be with. I'm not the type of girl any guy wants to be with seriously.”

How could you say that about yourself? Sunghoon doesn’t believe any of that, not for a single fucking second. “That isn’t true. You’re smart, kind, funny, and pretty.”

“Stop.”

“No. It’s true. Everything I just said is true. You think no guy would be able to fall in love with you, but they would. You would make an awesome girlfriend.” he tries to reassure you.

You don’t want any guy.

“You’re not making me feel better.”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Agree with the bullshit you’re saying about yourself? Because that’s not fucking happening.”

“What I want you to say…you can’t.”

“Try me. Tell me.”

You just look at him. He doesn’t get it. He isn’t saying it because he doesn’t feel the same. This realization makes you feel like you’re crumpling. You look at him, defeated. If you have to tell him, you know he would only say it to make you feel better, not because he actually wants to. That. That’s what hurts the most. He would say it because you’re his best friend…but you don’t want to be.

“...are you going to try and get back together with Yujin?”

He pauses. He thinks about it for a second. “Right now…I don’t know. I guess a part of me wants to try still. Does that make me shitty?” He’s not sure why he does. Yujin is the first girl he’s ever told he loved…and he doesn’t say it often. Maybe he’s like you, in a way. He doesn’t really like saying stuff like that. It felt weird when he said it. But he thinks that’s just because he’s never said it before.

“Why would I?”

“I feel like an asshole for even considering it after everything you’ve told me-”

“She’s the one you love.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” he says, truthfully. He just needs to think. He just needs one damn second to think.

“Then let me make it clear: be with her. From my perspective, she's the one you want. What I told you, how I so stupidly cried in front of you, that doesn't matter. I told you this earlier: you should've chosen her. So just, make up with her tomorrow or whatever and be with her.” you swallow. “...but I can't be your friend.”

He sees you giving up. He hears it. He hates it. His mind is running a thousand miles per minute, he can’t fucking think and it’s pissing him off. “It’s not that easy. I can’t just ‘choose’ between the two of you. I’m confused, I just…I want to be with whoever makes me happy.”

He’s always been happy with you. Sure, you two fought, but you always got over it. You make him happy. So goddamn happy. But he’s scared. He just gave nearly four years of his life to Yujin…what if it’s because he does love her?

“That’s her.”

“How are you so sure it’s not you?”

“I know.”

He groans in frustration. “So, I have to choose between the two of you?”

You. He chooses you. He’s not sure about the rest of it, but all he knows is that he chooses you. Four years with Yujin doesn’t compare to the years you and him have had together. Nothing else matters. You. Just you.

“Just be with her.”

“What if I want to be with you?”

He hasn’t thought about it. Maybe he chooses you only as a best friend. What if he doesn’t choose you for love? …does he love you? He recalls the teasing from classmates when you guys were younger, but he's never really given any thought to it possibly becoming real. Does he love you the same way he loves Yujin? Does he even love Yujin? He doesn’t know…he just doesn’t know.

“You don’t.”

“And what makes you so sure that I choose Yujin over you? What makes you so sure you’re ‘not enough’ for me?”

“...because you would’ve chosen me first.”

“I can still choose you.”

You sigh, “You're making this complicated. You know she's the one you love, stop feeling bad for me like I'm some lost puppy and just admit it. I don't want your pity and I certainly don't want you to say you ‘choose me’ because you're confusing your pity for feelings. Stop saying I'm this great girl and stop saying any guy would be lucky to have me, that makes me feel worse. So just make up with Yujin and get back with her. Reassure her that you love her because you do and tell her I won't be a problem anymore because you and I aren't anything anymore. Problem solved.”

Is this really what you believed? Is this really what you thought? He just needed some time, he can’t think. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. You were speaking as if it was impossible for him to love you, but what if he does? How is he supposed to know? How did he know with Yujin? He’s questioning whether he even loved her since he can’t even compare how he feels about you with whatever he felt with her. He just knows it’s stronger. But stronger in what way? He sees how you’re looking at him and he realizes the only way for him to succeed in making you feel better–which is what he truly wants–is to just listen to you. He doesn’t want to. But he wants to see you be happy, even if it means he isn’t.

“Are you really sure this is what you want me to do?” he barely asks, the words leaving his mouth without any fever, as if he never wanted to utter them in the first place. As if he doesn’t want to hear your answer; see you walk out of his life.

You don’t answer him. You just look at him before walking past him. You hold your breath, knowing that once you exhale, you’re going to start sobbing. You felt so lonely. So lonely. You’ve always had him…and then you lost him to Yujin…and now, you’ve lost him for good.

He doesn’t turn around to look at you as you walk away, because he knows if he does, he will run after you and that clearly isn’t what you want. You want to let him go, at least that’s how he understands it. He doesn’t want that. He wants you. He knows that much, he knows he needs you. He’s not sure how things will look without you now. He never thought it would be like this, but here he is. …why does this feel so much worse than when Yujin walked away from him? Why does this hurt more than his actual breakup? The reason is one he doesn’t want to admit. He realizes the answer and he refuses to let it grow to fruition. He doesn’t know why it took him until now to figure it out, but he’ll realize that later. He wanted time…now, he’s got it.

Deja vu. That’s what this all feels like. Here Sunghoon was, again, at another stupid frat party around midnight. Here he was, again, with Yujin. He took your advice, he decided to apologize and get back together with her, and these past few months without you have felt like torture. Even using torture to describe it seems too dull. He has thought about nothing but you. He’s heard around campus about people you’ve hooked up with, but he doesn’t feed into it. As he stands here with Yujin at this godforsaken party, all he can feel is regret. He leans against a wall as Yujin talks with her friends and he practically chugs his drink. He doesn’t even want to leave the party because he doesn't think it's worth to waste any of his wants on anything but you. You make up all of his desires and he wants nothing more than for you to be back into his life. He finishes the rest of his drink and to his surprise, he does see you. He stands up straighter as he looks at you, but feels like his insides are on fire when he realizes you’re making out with Sungchan. On the couch. On the couch, you are making out with Sungchan. On the couch, Sungchan is running his hands along your hips and waist. On the couch, you let him.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss Sunghoon. A part of you went missing the night you walked away from him. You’ve seen him around campus with Yujin and eventually, it finally felt like you were over it all. Over him. You wouldn’t say you’ve been getting around quite frequently, but you won’t lie when you say that you did get with some guys to help get over him. It didn’t work. But you won’t admit to that. To you, at least, you’re over it. Over him. Sungchan helped a bit with some of the lonely nights, but you two aren’t anything serious. He’s not into that sort of thing and, hey, neither are you…so this is fine. He doesn’t lie to you about how he feels or what he wants and for that, you’re grateful. Although, you do have to admit, making out with him feels boring. Being with him feels boring. It’s not fun like it used to be…and even then, you aren’t completely sure it was even fun in the first place. Whatever, you’ll get into it at some point.

Sunghoon watches, now it really feels like deja vu. Is he dreaming? Or…is this him getting a second chance? Is this when he can finally pull you away from Sungchan and be there for you? Finally tell you how he feels? How he felt the whole time…? Suddenly, his spirits are slightly lifted, that is, until Yujin crosses her arms and scoffs before shoving him. Sunghoon is surprised and turns his attention towards her. Some people look at them, but Yujin doesn’t care, she just looks at Sunghoon, furious.

“Do you even want me to be your girlfriend?”

Maybe honesty wouldn’t be best right now. “I do…”

“Then stop looking at her.”

“Let’s…not make a scene.” he says, trying to calm her down.

“Just be honest for once: do you love me or her?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. He knows his answer, he’s had months to figure it out. But…you made yourself clear. You were done with each other. He sighs. “Can I get a moment to figure it out?” he asks, honestly a bit surprised he didn’t just cave and reassure her.

Yujin frowns and scoffs. “Let me ask you this, then. Do you wish that you were making out with her?”

He looks back at you and Sungchan, seeing him whisper something to you and you giggling before he kisses you again. He looks back at Yujin. “Yeah.” he swallows, gathering all of his courage. “But, that sounds…awful. It’s like you want me to admit I regret getting back together with you or something-”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” he answers without hesitation. He feels all of his muscles tense up. Did he really just say that? Well…it’s the truth, but he never thought he would say it. He feels…better.

Yujin quickly squashes that by slapping him, “We’re done.” she says before storming out, her friends following. Sure, the slap hurt, but as Sunghoon looks back at you and Sungchan…the pain from the slap seems so insignificant in comparison.

You decide to tell Sungchan you’re getting a drink, so you get up from the couch and go into the kitchen. You pour yourself a drink and once you do, you walk to the backyard and take a seat on the patio.

Sunghoon figures you want to be alone…but finds himself following you outside anyway. He walks over to you cautiously. You and him have spoken consistently for practically your whole lives, but he finds himself struggling to even say a simple sentence or ask a question. The time you’ve spent apart was multiple days…too many fucking days in his opinion. He can’t stand it. “Can I sit here?” he asks, referencing the spot beside you. You shrug as you take a sip of your drink. He feels relieved, baby steps, right? He takes a seat beside you and thinks for a moment on how to keep the conversation going. “So…what were you telling Sungchan?” …has he lost the ability to socialize or something because why was this the question he asks? He bites his bottom lip a bit in frustration at himself.

“Spying on me?” you tease as you extend your cup, offering him some.

Sunghoon chuckles softly and shakes his head. Hearing your voice for the first time in months makes him remember just how much he’s missed you. He feels like everything in his life is restored and he smiles a bit. “You guys were all over each other on the couch, is it really weird for me to wonder?”

You shrug, “I mean, just typical flirting and dirty talk or whatever. Why?”

He feels his breath catch in his throat. “Dirty talk”?...what the fuck? “Um…no reason…I guess I was just…curious or something.” he mumbles.

“Are you here with Yujin?” you ask as you take another sip of your drink.

He shakes his head. “Well, not anymore. She broke up with me so…I’m alone now.” he realizes how that might’ve come off. “Alone here now…not…me alone altogether…or anything.” he cringes and looks away from you, feeling completely stupid.

“What? Why did she break up with you?”

“She…saw me…looking at you and Sungchan…so she broke up with me.” he says, not really wanting to say the other stuff from the argument. You laugh in response and he frowns. “Don’t laugh.”

You nudge his shoulder, “It’s okay. If she broke up with you for that dumb of a reason, her loss.” You say as you take another sip.

He smiles slightly. It feels like old times. It feels like he has you back. It feels like you want him back. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s probably best I don’t have her constantly being suspicious about me and you.”

“Especially since we haven’t talked in months.”

He feels caught off guard by your blunt statement. Sure, it’s true…but it sounds like you didn’t miss him. “Yeah…we haven’t talked in a while.” You just take another sip of your drink and he looks back at you. “I’ve missed you.” He waited for you to say something back, but you didn’t. “I’ve um…missed talking to you like before. Like, before…everything got complicated and stuff-”

“I know what you meant.”

He nods his head a bit, everything now feeling awkward. “So…what have you been up to? Anything interesting happen?”

“Nope.”

“Really? Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Yup” you say as you take another drink.

“So…for the past few months, you’ve done absolutely nothing interesting?” he asks, his tone being more lighthearted and joking to try and diffuse the tension.

“No offense, but I’m not really looking to ‘catch up’ with you.”

Sunghoon feels his heart stop for a moment, but he tries to play it off. “Okay, ouch.” he laughs nervously, “So you’re not even remotely interested in talking with me?”

You shrug, “I dunno. These past few months without you, I’ve kinda just been doing my own thing, I guess.”

Your response left him feeling worthless. Like, he didn’t even mean a single thing to you before. Which, he knows isn’t true…but you sound like you mean it. “So, you haven’t missed me at all? Not even talking to me?”

“At first, yeah. But don’t worry, I’m not in love with you anymore.”

“...you’re not…in love with me anymore…?” he asks as he feels his blood run cold. You just shake your head and continue drinking from your cup. His heart sinks immediately. He feels small; insignificant. His mind jumps back to Sungchan and he frowns. “Are you in love with him now?”

“Him?”

“Sungchan.”

“Eh,” you shrug, “we’re not dating, just casual, I guess.”

“So, you’re not exclusive with him?”

“No.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.”

He feels himself growing jealous and frustrated. How could you give yourself to someone who doesn’t love you? Sunghoon feels upset, realizing he unintentionally did the same thing, but still, not to this extent. He knows you. He knows you don’t want this…hopefully. But he sure as hell knows that you don’t deserve this.

“That’s ridiculous. How can you be committed to this?”

“I’m not committed.”

He groans, “That’s…not what I meant. What do you two even get out of this?”

You shrug, “Why do you care? I get you’re a relationship guy even though you’ve only been serious with one girl, but don’t shit on me and what I choose to do.”

The way you spoke got under his skin. “I care because I happen to care about the people around me. In case you haven’t noticed, I care about you.” But you just roll your eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes. I’m being serious. Why do you feel like this isn’t worth talking about?”

“Because we aren’t friends. We aren’t anything. I don’t need your input.”

It feels like you’ve slapped him in the face, and this time, it fucking stings. “What do you mean we aren’t friends? We grew up together, how the hell are we not friends?”

“Are you stupid?”

“Am I stupid?” he asks, offended and frustrated. He was starting to lose his patience. “No. I’m not. I still consider you as my friend. We grew up together, went to the same schools, hung out every damn day, how is none of that relevant?”

“We haven’t spoken in months.”

“So what?” he asks, feeling as though your friendship suddenly means less than nothing to you, somehow.

“I told you that night that I wasn’t going to be your friend anymore.”

He freezes. He knows. He also knows you don’t just say shit without it meaning anything. He knows you aren’t friends anymore, but he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be nothing to each other. He thought that if, maybe, he admitted he still sees you as his friend, you would admit the same. But you don’t. And now he feels that same empty feeling. “So…you’re just fine with letting us go without a second thought?”

You look at him, “Do you not remember anything from that night? Of course if fucking hurt; I was in love with you.”

“So it does matter.”

You sigh, “It doesn’t matter anymore; that was a long time ago.” you say as you take another sip.

He looks at you for a moment, feeling like his heart has become a punching bag and you were just taking any hit you could. Was this really the same person he grew up with? That he… “How could it not matter anymore? We used to mean the world to each other…how can that just…be…over?”

You look at him, “Because I had to get over you.”

“It’s not that easy. I spent everyday thinking about you. Everyday.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you!” He thought your question was so redundant, he honestly didn’t even realize what he said at first.

“But…” you sit there, stunned. He finally said what you wanted him to say for so long, even if it was with a frustrated tone, still…it counted. “What about Yujin?”

“She…she doesn’t matter. You do. She always suspected I was in love with you-”

“Well, this is news to me.”

He deadpans. “Are you being fucking serious? I get I never said it before, but…” he pauses; he sees what you mean. “Okay…but…you never once thought it was possible that I love you?”

“No. Because that night when I told you that night that I was in love with you, you just kept saying I was your best friend. You’re so full of it.”

“I’m not full of it! I just…for fucks sake, I just didn’t know. I thought…I don’t know, I thought maybe for you it was just passing, or something, I don’t know what I thought I just…I don’t know.”

“Right. So as I stood there, crying my eyes out as I told you how much I loved you, you thought it was one sided.” you say as you roll your eyes.

“I…” he feels like he did that night, like he can’t think. “I just didn’t know, maybe something was holding me back, I don’t know.”

“I know why.”

He looks at you, relieved, thankful that you understand what he means. “You do?”

“Of course you didn’t want to admit to that. How embarrassing for you to have a crush on one of the school’s biggest sluts.”

He frowns. “That’s not what I mean. You honestly think it’s embarrassing for me to like you?”

“Exactly. And you knew that. I don’t blame you, no guy wants their girlfriend to be a whore.” You take another sip of your drink and you look at him. “Look, I’m not mad. I got over it and I honestly don’t care anymore. I know what I am and I know that until we graduate, that’s all I’ll probably be. But it doesn’t matter. Yujin breaking up with you not too long ago was dumb, you’re a really great guy, but you’ll find someone else.” You take another sip, “I should probably head back in and find Sungchan.”

He felt anger wash over him. Not because you don’t believe him about being in love with you. Not because you were going to Sungchan. But because of the fact that you believe the things you say about yourself. You’re so special, so goddamn special, and Sunghoon is so scared as he realizes he may be too late.

“And what if I don’t want to find someone else? What if I don’t want anyone else but you?”

You look at him for a moment. “Do you remember how you would talk about Yujin with me? You may not remember everything you said, but I remember it all and I remember how you looked as you said it. You talked about her like she was the most special and most beautiful girl in the world. You had this smile that you only had with her…” you pause for a moment, “You may say you have feelings for me…but they're not like the ones you had for her, and that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel bad because you deserve to be happy, but you also deserve to find another girl that makes you talk and feel that same way…and I know that’s not me.”

You’re so wrong. You’re so fucking wrong and it was pissing him off. He wishes he just figured this out earlier. He wishes that he asked you out instead. He wishes that he told you he loves you that night. He wishes he kissed you. He wishes he held you and didn’t let go. He swallows, “You remember everything I said?” he asks, slightly surprised to hear that. Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. Not anymore.

“Of course I do…I wanted nothing more than for it to be me.” you say quietly as you take a sip and sigh. “But like I said, water under the bridge.”

He feels tears begin to form. “Why did we have to grow apart? Why didn’t you just talk to me? Just one damn word. Something. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I can’t be your friend.”

“Why not?”

You look at him for a long moment, just staying quiet. “...I’m only going to say this once…but if I stayed your friend, I would just keep hurting myself…I would still love you.”

He stays quiet for a while. Even the loud music and chatter from the people inside seemed to drown out as he looked at you; you’re all that matters; you’re all that deserves his attention. “...did it hurt when we would talk everyday?”

You sigh softly and shake your head. “Not until you started dating Yujin. Before that, everything was fine. But once she happened…it hurt like hell.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you. I couldn’t do that to you, you were happy.”

“I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to be there for you…”

You laugh a little, “No, that’s weird.” You shake your head and still laugh a little, “It’s fine, I’m over it.”

“It’s not weird. It’s not okay for you to act like everything is fine.” he says, softly.

“Why are you trying to rehash this? There’s no point. Or do you like to hear about how I used to love you and it gives you some sort of ego boost or something?” you ask, not wanting to dive back into this…not again. He shakes his head, but he sighs. What is the point? You aren’t believing him and you’ve said it yourself…you’re over him. You stand up and his eyes follow you, “I’m gonna go find Sungchan. Later.” you say, not really meaning the ‘later’ part, but nonetheless, you walk away and all he can do is watch you leave…again.

He heads back into the party, wanting to find solace in getting batshit drunk or something, but he continues to torture himself by watching you dance with Sungchan. His eyes only focus on you, sure, he’s jealous and pissed off that you’re with Sungchan, but he only sees you. Sees how you move and he finds himself wishing you were dancing with him.

Sungchan pulls you closer, just whispering sweet nothings in your ear and you feel his hands grab your ass. You giggle a little and try to enjoy your time with him as he starts kissing your neck. You laugh softly as you dance with him and, unfortunately for Sunghoon, he’s bearing witness to it all. His hand practically crushes his red solo cup as fury ignites within him when he watches what Sungchan is doing. That should be him. Not that he would be so…vulgar with his actions, but it should still be him instead. He sees Sungchan whisper something to you as he takes your hand and starts taking you upstairs.

As he watched the two of you making your way upstairs, his whole body shook and trembled in rage. Every step that the two of you took together enraged him. He hated the way you casually held his hand and how he casually walked you up the stairs. He hated how he acted as if he had every right to touch you like that. He hated the fact that you were both so comfortable with one another at this point. He hated the fact that he was leading you away to his room…

You were so focused on following Sungchan, you were surprised to feel a tug on your other hand once you reached the top of the stairs. Both Sungchan and you stop and you turn to see Sunghoon holding your other hand.

Sunghoon felt at ease, like he was grounded when he felt your hand in his. This made him more confident as he tugged you towards him, wanting you away from Sungchan. This pisses Sungchan off and he scoffs as he looks at Sunghoon.

“The hell?” Sungchan says, not in the mood for any games. He tugs the hand he was holding, pulling you back towards him, but you find yourself only focused on Sunghoon as your heart starts to beat faster.

Sunghoon pulls you back towards him, his grip on your hand tightening. “Back off.” he says as he glares at Sungchan.

“You back off.” Sungchan says as he tugs you back towards him.

Sunghoon realized that you were just being tugged around, so he stopped, but he kept holding your hand. “Let go of her.”

“You let go of her.” He looks at you, “Who the hell is this guy?” Sungchan asks, annoyed.

“Someone who actually loves her instead of using her.”

You look at Sunghoon, surprised to hear him say that. Sure, he said he loved you earlier…but this time when he said it, he said it like it was what he meant to say; what he wanted to say.

Sungchan laughs. “You love her?”

Sunghoon glares at him. “Yes. I love her. Now back off.”

Sungchan scoffs and puts his arm around me. “Tell you what, bud, you can have her when I’m done.” Sungchan winks as he pulls me towards him.

Sunghoon feels enraged. This asshole was acting so entitled, acting like he won this argument when Sunghoon knew damn well he wasn’t giving up. The fact that he had the nerve to call him “bud” too made Sunghoon want to throw him down the flight of fucking stairs. How he treated you was disgusting, talking about you like that in front of you. Sunghoon tugged you towards him one last time and Sungchan rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.” Sungchan looks at you, “You know where my room is.” he says as he winks at you before walking away.

Sunghoon grimaces as Sungchan leaves, but feels better once he’s gone. The whole time, you were just looking at Sunghoon and you feel as though your heart is beating out of your chest as he holds your hand. After what he said. After all of this. He meets your gaze and he looks at you in a much more gentle manner.

“You deserve so much more…” he whispers, his breath lightly brushing along your face since you’re so close together. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Stop.”

“No.” he says as he lets go of your hand and uses it instead to gently cup your face. “I wasn’t lying. You are all I’ve thought about for these past few months and you’re all I can ever think about. I’ve missed you every single damn second of the day and I’m sorry I was too scared to say it all before. I love you. And all this time, I’ve just thought about what you mean to me and the answer is everything; you mean everything to me. ...that seems like such a vague thing to say now that I say it out loud.” he chuckles softly, “But everything means nothing if you’re not with me. Eating, sleeping, breathing, blinking, are all pointless if I can’t spend one goddamn second with you. I’m not embarrassed of you and I only realized that night when you left that I’ve always been in love with you. Always. What I felt with Yujin is all meaningless when I compare it to how I feel about you. I love you. It was never her. Not for even a millisecond. You asked me if I would put myself through pain just to see her happy and I told you yes. I lied. I thought that was what I would do, but I realized I actually did that with you. I let you walk away because that’s what you wanted. I didn’t want that, god-” he takes a sharp inhale as he rests his forehead on yours, “It’s always been you…and I’m so sorry I never said it until now. I’m so sorry I put you through all of that shit. I’m so sorry, but please…” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, all of his focus only on you. “I love you.”

You feel your breath hitch slightly and you feel so tempted just to kiss him, but you hold yourself back. You smile a little bit and pull away slightly, feeling relieved. “...I need to smoke. You want one?” you ask as you take his hand, going into an empty bedroom.

He closes the door behind the two of you as you walk over and sit on the bed, opening the window beside it. He sits beside you as you take out your pack and he smiles a bit. “Yeah, I do.” he says as you hand him one. He watches as you light yours and then you light his for him. You both sit silently for a moment as you smoke, it being a comfortable silence until he speaks. “Thank you.” he says, mainly for lighting his cigarette, but he does want it to apply to you not leaving him again.

“I forgive you.” you say after a moment.

“You do?” he asks as he takes a drag and looks at you.

“Yeah.” you say as you take another drag yourself. “But you’ve got to get better at saying how you feel.” you tease.

He scoffs playfully and nudges your arm. “Says you.” he mumbles as he continues to smoke.

You laugh softly and shrug. “We’ll work on it.” you say before exhaling your smoke and he nods his head a bit as you both look out of the window for a moment. You glance at him and inhale from your cigarette before gently pulling him towards you. He turns his head to look at you and you kiss him gently, shotgunning the smoke slowly into his mouth.

His eyes widen a bit as his heart beats rapidly. He closes his eyes as he inhales, letting the smoke slowly fill his lungs while he leans forward to kiss you back, indulging in the feeling of your lips on his even if it wasn’t an actual kiss. After blowing out the smoke, you break the kiss and watch as he exhales the smoke. He does it slowly, feeling as though his lips are tingling, begging to meet yours again. He smirks a bit after he exhales all of the smoke and looks at you. “Damn…that was good.” he whispers as he blushes a bit.

You grin, taking another drag, “I’ve missed you.”

He takes a drag as well as smiles softly. “I’ve missed you, too.” It goes quiet, but this time, a comfortable silence as you two smoke. He blows some smoke out of the window and looks back at you. “Do you think…we could give this another shot?”

You follow suit and blow some smoke out of the window before looking at him. “Our friendship or…something more this time?”

“Something more. Both, hopefully.” he smirks a bit as he says this, taking another drag.

You smirk a little back and chuckle softly, “I really want that.”

“So do I.” he whispers as his eyes lock onto yours. He smiles softly, “We’re going to be official.”

He reaches for your hand and carefully interlaces his fingers with yours. You take another drag as you smile shyly. “Good…” you say, softly.

Your fingers seem to fit with his perfectly; everything about you is perfect and it was things like this that make him realize it all the more. You hold hands as you smoke silently, both feeling a fluttering excitement in your stomachs as your relationship dynamic shifts to one that you both have been longing for before you even realized it yourselves. He glances at you as he exhales some smoke.

“Good? Wow…I was expecting some more passion out of that.” he teases, gently squeezing your hand.

You laugh before finishing your cigarette and putting it out. You turn your body a bit to face him, “What about…fucking incredible?”

He laughs loudly at your new choice of phrasing. He calms down after a moment, “That’s more like it.” he says with a grin before smoking his cigarette again. His gaze lingers on you as he watches you smile at his reaction. Stunning. He leans in, letting go of your hand, placing his left hand beside you on the bed as his lips meet yours, kissing you.

You don’t waste a single second, kissing him back immediately as your hand makes its way to the back of his head, your fingers threading with his hair as you push yourself slightly forward, pressing your lips against his more. He inhales sharply as he moves his left arm around your waist, pulling you closer, desperately. He puts out his cigarette and discards it, using his other arm to wrap around you as well as he pulls you onto his lap. You part your legs, straddling his lap as you grin a bit into the kiss, both of your hands using their fingers to gently tug on the ends of his soft hair. You feel yourself fill with excitement, the fact that this is really happening after every inch of your body has desired this exact moment makes you feel restless.

Sunghoon runs his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing them gently, before moving them up to your hips, and then your waist. His hands suddenly felt so big against your skin, his fingers sending shivers throughout your whole body anywhere they touch. He opens his mouth slightly more and you take this as a sign to slip your tongue into it. He grins, this time, and he pulls you closer to him by gripping your waist; your bodies now pressed tightly against each other. He moves his hands to cup your face and you move yours to rest against his chest, your fingers tightly gripping his shirt in an attempt to somehow kiss him deeper. His tongue glides across yours as he kisses you with increasing desperation. The need for you grows every second that passes, he has to kiss every inch of you, he has to make you his, he has to make you feel loved; the only thoughts devouring his mind at this very moment consisted of nothing but you and his need to ensure you only ever want him.

The kiss becomes sloppy, both of your lips becoming covered in one another, and you feel yourself craving more. So much more. You bite his bottom lip a little, testing to see if this will make him decide to take initiative, resulting in him gasping softly and releasing a low moan. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He moves his hands back to your waist, pushing you down against his lap and his jaw loosens a bit as he loses his breath, feeling you finally press against his erection. You moan softly, enjoying the feeling of some sort of contact where you desperately needed it the most and it felt so good knowing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to have you.

One of his hands grips your thigh and his other arm goes back to wrapping around your waist as he picks you up a bit and lays you back against the bed, not once breaking the kiss; at this point, kissing you has become his oxygen supply. Feeling your hands on him is the only thing keeping him alive. His lips part from yours only to kiss along your jaw, just below your ear, and down to your neck. You gasp softly and your eyelids flutter closed as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips kissing your skin. He takes one of his hands and uses it to move some of your hair out of the way, placing it on the back of your head, pulling your hair softly to move your head back so he has more room to work with on your neck. You let out a soft moan, feeling him leave open mouthed kisses on every single inch of your skin, him making sure he doesn’t miss a single spot.

He opens his eyes a bit and looks at you, to see how he’s making you feel. He watches as your lips part slightly as you take in small gasps of air, as if he leaves you utterly breathless; you’ve never looked more beautiful. He watches to see what spot of your neck when he kisses it that you seem to like the most. Once he gets to a certain spot and watches you bite your bottom lip a bit, he smirks slightly against your skin and sucks gently on the area. His tongue laps the spot a bit as he sucks and nibbles on it; this was his spot now. You moan softly and you feel your breath slightly catch in your throat as he leaves a hickey. He leaves a few soft pecks on the spot a little after he’s left his mark and he smiles a bit to himself.

You feel the warmth of his body pull away from yours and your eyes open as you look at him. The moon shined a bit through the window, the light falling beautifully on him as he looked at you with a slightly flushed face. He looked back at you, seeing you laying on this bed, all for him, he felt like he was going crazy. He sits on his knees between his legs as his hands run along your thighs; he just keeps looking at you, admiring all of you. You lay there, looking at him, feeling your body become hot as he looks at you through hooded eyes, as if you leave him in a trance. Your breathing picks up in speed as he runs his hands painfully slow along your thighs and as much as you want to pull him back towards you, you feel as though you’re frozen.

He takes a slow, deep breath, as his left hand travels up to gently take your right hand. He holds it up softly, separating your fingers with his as he loosely holds your hand, his gaze now focusing on your hands. He raises your hand up and leans in, raising it to his mouth. He softly plants his lips on your fingertips, kissing them softly, up to your knuckles, trailing his lips to the back of your hand, then gently turning it to kiss along the palm of your hand. He closes his eyes as he kisses down your arm--slowly--and gently lays your arm back at your side as he kisses up to your shoulder. His hands move to the hem of your short dress, slowly sliding it up, you raising your hips to help him, and he stops, leaving it bunched around your waist as he goes back to kissing along your shoulder. He gently pushes the strap of your dress down your shoulder as he focuses on kissing your body, moving along your collarbone. He breathes deeply, pushing the other strap out of the way as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your left shoulder, down your arm, his hands gently holding it up as he kisses up to your wrist. You watch him, feeling as if your body is constantly shivering, still dressed (albeit, your dress is pushed up), yet feeling completely exposed. His hand envelopes over your left hand as he kisses your palm like he cherishes your entire being, the way he looks is as if he’s wanted to do this his whole life.

He kisses your fingers, knuckles, and fingertips, opening his eyes slowly as he lets go of your arm gently. He moves his hands back to your waist, pulling your dress up more and you sit up, realizing your body is shaking, and he kisses your forehead before pulling your dress off carefully, like he’s afraid if he does it too fast, you’ll break. He lets the dress fall to the ground, the fabric hitting the hard wood floor just as softly as he lets it go. It’s as if the room is silent, no muffled music from downstairs, no rolling of tires from the occasional cars passing on the streets, no soft wind hitting the curtains, nothing except the quiet breaths escaping from his and your lips. He feels his erection become even more painfully hard as he looks at you, and he swallows, honestly trying not to let out a moan just at the sight of you. His breath stifles a little as he places his hand on the small of your back, steadying you as he leans back in, kissing the top of your chest. He feels himself growing more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of your skin on his lips, on his fingertips.

He breathes in sharply as he presses his face more into your chest, his lips sloppily kissing along your chest as his need for you grows. His tongue trails along your skin and he shudders, his hands becoming shaky as he holds your waist, all his focus practically on making out with your chest. A low moan elicits from him and from the way he was kissing your chest with such desperation made you moan softly in response, one of your bra straps falling a little off your shoulder from his movements. It’s as if he senses it and just decides to unclasp your bra, still trying to let it slide off of you slowly and hold himself back, but once he sees you take it off, your bare chest exposed, he feels himself get so close to cumming in his pants. He gently lays you back on the bed, wasting no time, however, to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Your breath hitches and you moan as he releases his desperation. Kissing, sucking, and fondling your breasts, small whimpers coming from him as he feels elated to finally be doing this. Spit covers your chest almost instantly as he licks and sucks, kneading your breasts, moaning as the soft flesh squeezes and molds beneath his hands. And it’s only until he feels his breathing becoming quick, his dick aching in his pants, is when he stops. He pulls away slightly, his hair slightly covering his eyes as he stares at them, his trembling fingers squeezing and spreading his spit along them, his thumbs pressing and circling your nipples, and you feel as if ripples just went throughout your entire body.

You gently push his hair away from his face and he goes back to kissing along your stomach, down to your panties. You can feel momentarily the thin layer of sweat covering his forehead when you push his hair away, running your fingers through his locks and he whines softly against your skin, his hands gripping your sides and finally moving to the edge of your panties. You wait in anticipation, expecting him to take them off, so you raise your hips slightly, but he pulls away. You pout–only slightly–as you look at him with a confused expression. He smiles sweetly, as if he’s not the one that caused you to quite literally soak through your panties. He’s noticed, god, he’s noticed, but it takes everything in him not to behave like some animal. So, with that, he moves his hands down to your feet, slowly taking off your shoes for you before setting them on the ground. He moves back a little, leaning down to kiss along your leg, stopping at your knee, before moving to do the same thing to the other leg, but this time, he kisses up your thigh, leaving open mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh, gently nipping at your skin, and up to your hip. He gazes at you through his eyelashes as he moves to kiss along the other thigh, closing his eyes as he moans deeply against your skin, his tongue running along your skin.

He takes in a shaky, deep breath, and you feel your whole body become stiff once you feel his warm breath scatter so deliciously on your core. He gently places his hand over your sopping panties and your breath hitches, your whole body feeling grateful for some sort of contact. His brows furrowed as he slowly rubs his middle finger along your clothed slit, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels even more of your wetness seep through the fabric as he pushes into it. His mind feels hazy; he has to taste you. He takes his hand away, licking his middle finger and he feels as if his whole body exploded. He moans quietly to himself, before gripping your thighs and sticking his tongue out, licking a slow, long stripe between your clothed folds to your clit. Your eyes roll back as you gasp and moan. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself lose all sense of sanity. He wanted nothing more than to take his time, but fuck, he can’t do it anymore.

His lips instantly latch around your clothed clit, sucking and lapping his tongue as he starts to subconsciously rut his hips against the mattress. His saliva soaks your panties entirely as he presses his tongue more firmly, causing you to moan louder, gasping, as your hand makes its way to his hair, your fingers tangling in it. He moans and pulls away only a little before diving back in, pushing your panties to the side with his face as he makes out between your folds. His jaw is working overtime, his tongue lapping and picking up as much of you as you can give, His nose bumps against your clit as he loses himself in your taste, eating you out like a madman. He groans and moans into you, his hip movements stuttering as he licks all the way back up to your clit, moving his right hand off of your thigh before pushing his middle and ring finger into you, making sure to rub them between your folds before he does. He sucks and licks your clit, moaning and whimpering as he pushes his fingers in and out of you, not stopping until his knuckles prevent him.

You moan his name, gripping his hair, pushing his face against your clit more as your legs shake and you cum, moaning his name. He whimpers and the way you taste sends him over the edge as he feels himself cum in his pants, his jaw falling slack a bit, and he pulls his fingers out, desperate to lick them clean. You let go of his hair, trying to catch your breath and he sits up, his face slick and covered in you, and he tugs your panties off. You look at him, watching as he undresses himself and you feel your body become light as he reveals more and more of himself to you. His bare chest, his abs, god, his biceps, you were about ready to start touching yourself at the sight, desperate for him, but you managed to stay put.

He feels his ego boost a little bit, watching how you look at him, examining his body as if he is some work of art. He’s going to give you everything he knows you deserve and that thought alone makes him smirk. You notice as he takes off his underwear the wet patch from his prior release, making you grin a bit. He finally lets his cock out, it still being painfully hard despite him having cummed already, and you gaze at it. You feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting him so desperately to fill you up and he sees it. He smiles innocently, as if you both aren’t completely naked and horny before he grabs a cigarette and lights it. He takes a drag as he spreads the precum spilling from his tip all along his length and you watch his every movement, honestly feeling your mouth water at the sight. You sit up and he motions his head to the window as the cigarette sits between his lips.

You turn and face the window, propping your forearms against the windowsill as you look outside, the cool breeze honestly feeling nice against your flushed, hot skin. You feel his presence shift behind you as he takes another drag. He sighs softly, looking at yourself propped like this, he places his free hand on your hip, lining himself up with you. He moves that hand and gently brushes your hair softly to the side, exposing your back entirely, and you turn your head a bit to look back at him. He exhales some smoke and meets your gaze, gently brushing his fingers along your cheek.

“Relax…” he says before leaning to whisper in your ear, “and don’t be afraid to let the neighborhood know my name.” he says before kissing your cheek.

You feel your body shudder at his words and he holds the cigarette between his lips as he uses one hand to hold your hip, the other gripping his cock before he slides it up and down, teasingly, between your folds. You gasp softly and he smirks, pushing his tip against your clit and he hisses a little, more precum leaking from his tip. He guides his cock into you, needing to quickly grab his cigarette from his mouth due to his jaw falling slack as he bottoms out into you. Your fingers grip the edge of the windowsill, your jaw dropping as you feel him finally giving you what you want. You moan and become breathless. He takes another drag from his cigarette before moving his hand from your hip to your shoulder as he pulls his hips away and then thrusts himself back into you entirely.

He filled you up perfectly, and he was damn ready to cum just from the way it felt like you perfectly felt around him. So warm and so fucking wet. He thrusts in and out of you a few times, groaning as you moan, sounds of you coating his cock more and more each time he goes in and out of you. He takes a shaky inhale from his cigarette, his eyes rolling back a bit as he thrusts a bit faster, before taking the cigarette out of his mouth, gripping the back of your head, a handful of your hair between his fingers, as he pulls you up and turns your head towards him. You moan and whine looking at him as he kisses you, shotgunning you this time as he keeps a steady pace of thrusting into you. You felt like you were going to choke, but you inhale what he exhales and as he pulls away, you turn back and lean your forearms against the windowsill as you blow out the smoke, gasping afterwards and moaning his name.

“Good girl,” he groans and puts the cigarette out, putting both of his hands on your hips, thrusting faster. “Such a good girl.”

You moan at his praise and breathe quickly as all you can do is let out strings of long moans as you feel his cock press into you over and over, him somehow hitting every area that makes your knees weak and mind hazy. His fingers dig into your skin as his hips rapidly pound and slap against your ass, the sound of skin slapping becoming louder and louder. You moan his name loudly, and as a reward, he pushes further, you feeling his tip brush against your cervix and you gasp, moaning his name lewdly. He grunts, the way you just moaned his name almost made him cum automatically.

“Louder, sweetheart, come on.”

You gasp for air as he fucks you so goddamn good, and you try to arch your lower back a bit so he can go deeper. You moan his name as many times as he wants, whatever it takes for him to rut in and out of you faster, to which he obliged. His breathing becomes heavy and your legs shake as you throw your head back a bit, your jaw dropping as you let out a long moan, cum spreading all over his cock. He grunts and whimpers, wrapping his arms around your waist as his brows knit together, him leaning down and kissing your shoulder as he pumps you full of cum, a low moan coming from him and onto your shoulder. He moans your name softly as he lets out a few more shallow thrusts, making sure he gives you every last drop. You feel yourself shiver as the warm liquid pushes into you and you whine a little.

After a moment of him holding you close and staying inside of you, he kisses your shoulder softly again before pulling out and pulling away. He lays back onto the bed and you shudder as you feel his and your cum spilling out of you and trailing slowly down your inner thigh. He opens his arms a bit and you go to him, letting out a sigh as you rest your head on his chest and feeling content when his arms wrap around you. His hand slowly moves up and down your back before he kisses the top of your head. It’s silent for a while as you both lay there.

“So…we’re a thing now?” you ask, partly joking, but part of you was seriously asking.

He looks down at you and scoffs playfully. “After all of this, you still don’t get it?” he chuckles softly. “I want nobody but you.”

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sh1-n0bu · 2 months

Text

♡︎ 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙘 ♡︎

characters: sub!gallagher x nb!dom!reader

warnings: usage of aphrodisiacs, exhibitionism, slight dumbification, thigh riding, dry humping, begging, cumming untouched, gallagher being an old man loser, just a mini drabble guys. nothing big (i say as i write down 1,7K words)

notes: @lufenianwol you knew exactly what you were doing when you sent me gallagher’s leaked idle animation didn’t you, you gayyyy🫵🏳️‍🌈 (im gay too😔)

sigh…

another day, another long work of hunting down criminals or outlaws who came to penacony uninvited and detaining them. the most time gallagher could ever get to de-stress were behind the bars, mixing up a drink his customers asked for or when with you. you were a fellow bloodhound, a high ranking one too, so never had enough time to spend some quality time with your tired lover.

but today, you wanted to be a little mischievous. and what was that on your mind? you slipped just a teeny weeny bit of aphrodisiacs into his usual alcohol in his personal flask of course! just a little. maybe a pinch or two. a bit of a sprinkle of magic as a gift.

or maybe even a whole mini bottle. but you won’t say it until your tired lover comes crawling over to you, huffing and puffing, whining whimpering as he begs for your help at “restocking” some of the alcohol at the backrooms.

at the other end of the bar, you watch with a barely hidden smirk whenever your lover takes a sip from his personal flask during his break times. each time he does, getting more and more intoxicated in the taste. you purposely chose one that tasted delicious and soft on the tongue, a way to reward him for his hard work of running after criminals and preparing him for what was about to happen.

he started out strong, as expected of a bloodhound officer. barely felt it, focusing on work, wiping a glass or two, mixing up a drink. but the more he drank from his flask, the more you noticed it. the little stuttering over his words, the slight flush in his cheeks, the jumpy way he reacted whenever you passed by him with a hand on his waist or lower back. that bulge in his pants. that damn delicious bulge that you love to bully.

shaking your head, snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you focus back on work to wipe the bar clean and serve the customers drinks and desserts of their liking. you and gallaher were a good pair to serve amazing cocktails after all.

finally, the rush hour had ended, meaning fewer customers. the fewer there are, the more noticeable gallagher’s show of being affected by the little sprinkle of magic became. at first, he tried to play things off as signs of cold, or just the warm and low lighting of the bar being the reason his cheeks are pink. hell, he even coughed a few times to make his act believable. believable to the nosy customers but never to you.

“[n-name]…” the man barely manages to muffle his whimper when calling out your name, low lidded eyes, hazy vision and slightly shaky hand tugging on your necktie. you hum, turning to him with a raised brow as if you weren’t the reason behind this panting mess in front of you.

“yeah? what’s up?” you ask, putting down the bottle on where it’s supposed to be as your hands come to rest on his waist. the rush hour just ended, the bar still had a few customers but they were either too drunk to care nor engrossed in their own sob life stories to share you two a glance. and gallagher was damn glad for it too.

“w-we, ahem, need to head to the backrooms. we’re running out of some beers and fizzy drinks in the fridge” he quickly clears his throat, hoping that no one had caught onto his little stuttering. you did, of course. you would catch onto anything your lover says or does. even the tiniest things. such as how he was trying to make it seem like an innocent half-hug when you could feel his cock twitch in his pants as he pushes his crotch against yours, hoping to conceal it while also giving you a little heads-up.

as if you needed the heads-up.

“alright. you can go first, i’ll come after you once i wipe my hands” you nod your head, watching as your lover disappears behind the door with a sign that read “staff only”. it was cute how gallagher was so trusting of you, never even thought for a moment how you could have been the one to drug his flask of alcohol. though, judging from his cloudy eyes and stuttering, you could guess that he could barely even think to begin with. how adorable of him.

soon enough, you follow after the steps of your lover, walking into the “staff only” part of the bar and later onto the door with the sign “backrooms”. the pretty decent sized dark room where the bar keeps their ingredients and drinks. the same exact room where your lover pushes you against the wall the moment you entered, shaky hands fumbling with the buttons of your button down shirt as he humps his hardened cock against your crotch.

“woah woah, puppy. easy now. what’s going on? i thought we needed to restock on our drinks?” you ask, feigning innocence as your hands rest over gallagher’s shaky ones, stopping his fumbling and managing to catch his attention for a minute. he looked so dumbfounded. bottom lip on the brink of bleeding due to his chewing, panting, cheeks flushed a pretty red as his dilated eyes try to focus on you. you swore he looked like he was almost on the brink of crying with how damn pathetic he looked.

“c-can’t… [name], please, help me… ‘s so hot, tight. stupid pants mmngh!” gallagher only moans, tripping over his own words in a jumbled mess as he tries to find some sort of relief for his poor aching cock. looking down, you could briefly make out a dark small patch at the front of his pants. he was so drugged that he couldn’t even tell that he was staining his own clothes with his precum. so cute.

you only hum in response, not bothering to do as he pleads as your hands rest on the fat of his ass, massaging them gently. he only whines, slurred words of how he wanted your hands on his cock falling out as he squirms in your hold. lowering yourselves down to the floor of the room, you shift gallagher on top of you to ride your thigh instead. flexing the muscles in them to make it easier for him as he whimpers at the feeling.

immediately, the man started to hump your thigh. salacious mewls falling out of his lips as he doesn’t even try to silence his loud noises, only dumbly trying to relieve himself as he rubs his clothed cock on your thigh. you could see the dark patch in his pants getting bigger, darker the more he rides your thigh. if he had his dick out, he would probably leave a mess all over your clothes.

“shh shh, puppy. the door isn’t locked, remember?” you chuckle, reminding him of where the two of you were getting naughty at. it was so cute to see his eyes perk up at the sound of your voice. more specifically, whenever you called him puppy. he really did lived up to that nickname, looking like a cute pup as he bites down on his lip.

one of your hands travel up to his chest, opting to play with his perky nipple as he let out a loud squeal at that. his chest was always so sensitive, making him let out the most delicious whimpers each time you roll, pinch or tug at the hardened nub. being so mean to not slip your hands under the opening of his button down shirt at the front, playing with his nipples over the harsh fabrics of his clothes instead. he just wanted your touch on him to relieve the ache pooling in his belly, would you be so mean to deny him of his wishes?

apparently, you would. the hand on the soft fat of his ass moving to rest over his hip, helping him hump his cock on your thigh as your other hand continue their brutal assaults on his chest. poor gallagher, can't even form a single word as his pleads fall out of his swollen lips in a jumbled heap of mess. you could barely make out your own name from it. the words sounding so muddled up as if the bloodhound officer couldn't tell the difference between reality and his drug induced feelings.

"[n-naaammmeee]... sniff pleasheee fuunnghh fucck!! p-pleashh pleaash pleeaasshee♡︎!! ungh!! guuunnhg♥︎♥︎! p-pretty pleaaseee♡︎?" gallagher whines helplessly, stuffing his flushed face into the crook of your neck as his movements become more sloppy and frantic. he was so close to cumming already, it was just so cute to see how easily someone who is apparently always in control to crumble over with just a little bit of thigh riding. and some sprinkle of magic added to the mix.

in an attempt to muffle his loud moans and stuttering of his breath, he hastily lowers the collar of your own button down shirt just a little bit more. just enough so he could bite down over the old, healing bite mark of his so he could attempt to muffle his pathetic noises. you only coo out in a mocking tone, calling him by that nickname again as you tug on his nipple through his shirt as debouched cries of your name falls from his lips over and over like a mantra. gallagher sounded like one of those old, broken down radios that only replay a single song that sometimes is in the bar.

with a final thrust and a meek little bounce on your thigh, gallagher releases into his clothes. the magenta red hue of his pants turning a darker shade as his cum pools into the materials of his pants, staining it as some of the translucent liquid drips down onto your pants. you could just wash them out later.

"done with your little show, puppy?" you ask, the hand on his hip squeezing a bit to snap him out of his hazy mind. instead, you got a shake of his head, his stubble lightly tickling the skin of your neck in the process.

"wan' more... wan' you♥︎" he mumbles, delirious and drooling, as he humps his still hard cock against your crotch, indicating what he craved so desperately. maybe next time you should check the dosage you put into his drink if he's gonna be drugged this heavily by such a small amount.

#nobu.writes #sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #sub!hsr #sub!honkai star rail #sub character #sub!character #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr x reader smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #sub gallagher #hsr gallagher #gallagher x reader #gallagher smut #x dom reader #dom reader #dom!reader

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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

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ovulation is INSANE

imagine trying to explain ovulation to Eddie as "my body is evil and it wants to get me pregnant" and you have to preface the week like "if I tell you not to use a condom, do NOT listen to me, it's the demons" because you're horny but don't wanna take any chances and he's like... ah, the demons... interesting... so can I still hit or...?

+18 mdni, cw for cumming inside that hasn't been prev discussed, daddy & breeding kink 🫣

you explain it to him and he goes "oh right like the plot in The Silver Chair." and you're like...?? and then in true Eddie fashion he goes on a ten-minute descriptive story rant about some old book that he read back in grade school where a character was cursed to be confined to a chair and no matter how hard he pleaded no one was allowed to break the spell.

or something. ur not really paying attention because Eddie looks so engaging as he speaks, all doey eyes and big hand movements and curly mane of hair that he shakes out to emphasize his points. it really shouldn't come as a surprise to him when you throw yourself across the couch and into his lap as soon as he's done with the story (he recovers quickly and valiantly, have no fear)

and he's never seen you like this before, desperation leaving no room for a proper dressing down- his pants and boxers are shoved to just his mid-thigh, your panties still on but hooked to one side so you can ride him, with quick rolls of your plush hips that he's currently gripping for dear life.

"fuck, sweetheart," he's gasping out, watching your eyebrows pinch together and your mouth part in a soft O, familiar signs of impending orgasm. "already?"

"told you..." you're swallowing down a whimper so you can speak, gathering the strands of hair at the nape of Eddie's neck between your fingers, his head lolling back against the couch, pliant under your touch. "ovulation horny is a- shit, right there- different beast..."

since you're the one riding, you're doing most of the physical work, but Eddie manages to angle up into that spot that makes your walls clench, his feet planted firmly on the ground to support your weight.

you're so close, he can see it in the way your eyes glaze over and thighs tremble. he's watching you with tipped-back head, half-lidded eyes, staving off his own release to get you to break first when he gets an idea.

"you like riding my cock, baby?" he purrs out, one of his hands leaving your hip to rest warm against your stomach. "want me to fill you up? get you good and pregnant? make you mine?"

any worry that he has about your reaction to this melts away with your moans, the idea shooting straight to your core as you shift your hips faster, pleasure mounting.

"that's it, honey," Eddie encourages, panting out your praises as he feels your walls spasming, choking his cock. "come for daddy and he'll fill you up, just like you w-"

he's cut off by your long, low groan as you obey his words, crushing your forehead against his as he helps you ride out your high. you're gushing around his cock that's quick to follow your lead, spilling his seed deep into you with a throaty groan of his own.

you're both covered in a light sheen of sweat as you come down from your highs, soft laughs mingling as you find your breath again.

"bet that didn't happen in your Silver Chair book," you chuckle, pulling back to press a kiss against Eddie's slack jaw.

"C.S. Lewis can go fuck himself," Eddie says, smoothing a hand down the slope of your back. "got the best plot ever right here."

#lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader

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murdrdocs · 1 year

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yknow what…….. you should elaborate more on after shows w/ rockstar bf hobie……

mhm ik what ur asking for ... and i will deliver fem!reader

he always comes off the stage drenched in sweat. a bright look in his eyes, prominent cheekbones glowing with happiness instead of just sweat. he chats to a few people on the way down, dapping them up as he goes, and you stand just a little bit away, rocking back and forth on your feet, playing with the rings hobie's gotten you, gnawing on your lip as he gets closer, and closer, and closer.

until sweat-slickened hands are pulling you into him by the waist, your hands finding the cotton of his muscle tee. he asks you the same question that he always does ("what'd you think?"), and you give the same answer as always ("was amazing") and then he kisses you, just like he always does.

there's some more time where he's dragged into different places, his hand in yours as you walk behind him, then his hands on your hips as he walks you in front of him. he talks to his mates, fingers tapping along the denim of your skirt, angular jaw resting on your shoulder and you can practically feel the anticipation buzzing from his body.

you finally end up outside, under a streetlight with your backs against the wall of the pub. hobie smokes a cig while he listens to you tell him about what the show looked like from your end, something he makes you do as he values your opinion (though he says it like it doesn't matter but his attentive eyes say otherwise).

the last drag is taken, you've finished your spiel, hobie stomps the butt out into the asphalt with his boots, and then his hands are pulling you into him, slender fingers hooking into your belt loops to encourage the movement.

your hands collide with his chest, he stares down at you, dark eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips, and then his lips are on yours.

it's usually like this, intensely making out just steps away from where he'd performed, a few feet away from where he'd laid almost all of his heart and soul out, always leaving just enough left to give to you.

your back ends up against the wall and hobie crowds your space. he tastes like cigarettes, and a little like beer, with a tinge of the gum you'd given him when he'd asked for it a few minutes ago. he smells like you, and like him, a mixture that works more than it should.

his hands are warm and rough when they meet your thighs, thumbs on the innermost parts of your skin. they dig into the flesh in a silent command to spread your legs more, one you easily obey. it gives access for hobie's deft fingers to push your panties aside.

he takes a step closer, his head dips down, he pecks your cheek. "d'you want me to stop?" it's always the same question, formatted slightly different each time.

and each time, you shake your head.

there are some nights where you just talk, his arm slung around your waist, your head rested somewhere on his chest or shoulders, a cigarette either between his lips or fingers as he tells you stories that he somehow hasn't told you before. those nights end with you back at either of your places, in a position similar to this one.

but there are other nights, most nights if you're honest, where hobie looked so good on stage from your perspective, and he had adrenaline pumping through his veins that couldn't be quelled with spiderman duties, and neither of you could wait to get home so the side of a pub was the next best place.

his fingers work you in ways that only he can do, and as you start to unravel from his ministrations, you don't have any worries about being seen because you know that in the off chance that would happen, hobie would handle it. he always does.

#hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x you #hobie brown #celeste writes mcu #spider man: across the spider verse #hobiesworld!

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usereddie · 20 days

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hello i humbly offer another installment of my "this was supposed to be a text post but it spiraled into a short coda oneshot" series.

hen and eddie talk about buck's coming out. also today's wordle is not lover i wouldn't spoil it and lover has already been used as a wordle. it was for the themes.

“Did you know? About Buck, I mean? Did you suspect at all?”

Hen looks up at him and puts her phone down, he gets a wordle spoiler when he looks at her screen. Lover. Got it.

“Him being queer?”

“I think he identifies as bisexual.”

“Okay,” Hen says, and Eddie watches her face flit through a complicated series of emotions before landing on something fond and knowing that makes heat crawl up his spine. “You wanna sit down?”

“This doesn’t feel like a sit down conversation, it’s not a big deal, I’m just asking if you knew—”

“Eddie,” she cuts him off. Her smile is kind and gentle and Eddie gets the quick building feeling he should’ve stayed in the bunk room. “Sit down.”

He sits.

Hen pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and tilts her head a little as she smiles at him. The head tilt reminds him of Buck because he finds little pieces of Buck everywhere. He’s in the song on the radio in Eddie’s truck on the way to work and he’s in Christopher’s English homework because the stories Buck used to tell him when he was little enough to ask for them influenced his creative writing. He’s in Eddie’s kitchen even when he isn’t because Buck got him a set of rainbow silicon spatulas because they were a buy one get one free deal.

A copy of Buck’s loft keys on Eddie’s keychain, his name in the calendar that he wrote himself take out w/ buck ! no skipping in his messy, nearly illegible scrawl.

But Eddie can read it because he doesn’t think there’s a universe out there where he doesn’t understand Buck down to the chicken scratch.

“I didn’t know, not for sure. It wasn’t ever something I thought about at length, either. I’ve mentioned it to Karen once or twice and there have been times where she’d shoot me a smirk from across Bobby and Athena’s backyard at something Buck said, but it’s not something I’ve ever discussed. That doesn’t feel right.”

“But you knew?”

“I wasn’t surprised.”

He fidgets with a rubber band someone left on the table. He wants to ask more. Needs to know what made her realize it in Buck. If she sees the same in him.

Eddie’s never really thought about it. Or, that’s not quite true. He knows, in a way. That something’s never been quite right. That he’s never felt for women what he’s been told he’s supposed to feel.

Dating isn’t supposed to feel like a performance, he doesn’t think. Nobody else seems to think it is.

He likes the sex for the most part. Figured that was enough to carry it. Sex feels good but then again he’s pretty sure sex always feels good when both people want it. It’s not like it’s some sort of burden to eat his girlfriends out but there’s something missing. He likes making them feel good but he doesn’t like how high pitched their moans are of the soft sighs that spill out of their mouths. There are soft tits where hard chests should be and it doesn’t.

It doesn’t feel right. The sex is good, it's fine, he'll take it, but—

Love shouldn’t be just about sex. Eddie doesn’t want it to be.

“Did you ever assume something about—” he cuts himself off but Hen sees right through him anyway. Maybe lesbians have some sort of psychic third eye that lets them see beyond the performative exterior he puts on. He tries not to squirm as she looks at him.

“About you?” she asks, and the world doesn’t stop spinning or start spinning backwards or tilt on its axis. Eddie thinks it should. It’s the least the earth could do, honestly.

He swallows.

“Yeah.”

Hen hums and Eddie can tell she’s trying to gather her thoughts and form them into sentences that won’t send him running for the hills. Being—this doesn’t feel like something to run from, though. Not so much anymore. Maybe a few years ago, maybe when he first got to LA and his parents' words and their bitterness were still stuck to his skin. When he still felt like he wasn’t good enough. Not for his son, not for Shannon, not for himself.

He feels good enough now. And he thinks he’d like to fall for someone the way Buck seems to be falling for Tommy. Except he’s really fucking scared the person he’s falling for is—

Well.

Buck.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, and it doesn’t, not really, it’s the kind of thought that sits quietly in the back of your mind and waits for you to uncover it.

Buck came out and it uncovered itself.

Buck is bi. Buck dates men.

Buck could date him. And he isn’t.

That’s the crux of it all. Eddie was drunk and Buck’s arm was around his shoulder and he felt lightheaded, couldn't stop smiling so hard his cheeks hurt the next day. Bubblier than the champagne. Floaty. It wasn’t even a new feeling, not with Buck.

He makes him so fucking happy.

Even through hell, Buck makes him happy. That’s love, probably. Definitely. Eddie tries not to think about it too hard otherwise he might have to go see Dr. Salazar again, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining this to the woman who diagnosed him with repression.

Getting an I told you so from his sisters would be one thing.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Yes,” he says, far too quick and clipped and awkward. He smiles tightly.

“Yeah. I thought you were, actually. When you got to the station, you wouldn’t talk about Christopher’s other parent. Even in the beginning, you barely talking about him. I figured an army guy from Texas probably wasn’t used to being out. And then you weren’t gay, so I assumed you were just being a scorpio and not letting anyone in. But you let Buck in.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t—there’s no bet about it. About the two of you. I don't think anyone would be surprised, but no one talks about it. That’s not the kind of thing you gossip about. But, yeah. People were surprised when the mysterious partner you wouldn’t talk about was your wife, and not a husband.”

“Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”

“That’s not my place to tell you.”

“Hen. You’re my friend, and the only other queer person I know and trust enough to ask this to. I can’t exactly go ask him that question, and I don’t know who else to talk to. Do you think I’m in love with Buck?”

“Yes.”

Eddie’s exhale is shaky.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

#bia.fic #buddie fic #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 spoilers

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wonwoonlight · 7 months

Text

just one day / yoon jeonghan

⇢ Jeonghan x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: 4.5k

⇢ fluff // angst // nonidol!au // brother's best friend // fake dating!au // they're idiots lmao // not edited nor proofread so pls bear w me lol // cursing and. two? kissing scenes.

⇢ A/N: this has been sitting unfinished in my google drive since... either last year or the beginning of this year lmao. i have always wanted to write brother's best friend and i had this sudden urge to finish it earlier so i did. been some time since i posted a proper fic so, enjoy~

He must be dreaming.

He must be.

“What?” Jeonghan says just for the sake of saying it.

“I like you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You blink at his firm voice, wondering what kind of situation this is. Sure, you shouldn’t be confessing to your brother’s best friend, but you feel like you’ve been obvious enough and you don’t see why you shouldn’t confess when it’s been eating you inside out.

And, yeah, you didn’t expect him to do anything about your confession (or even say that he likes you back), but you didn’t expect this either.

“What do you mean I don’t?” you frown, looking at him accusingly. “I like you.”

“You don’t, kid.” He sighs, already feeling a headache coming. He’s not stupid, alright, he has enough sense to gather that his best friend’s little sister probably has something on him–a crush, perhaps, but he’s never thought it was real enough for you to feel the need to confess.

It doesn’t help that he is attracted to you, has always been since you’ve gone back from Sydney after finishing university a year ago. He admits he’s always thought you’re attractive, and if he’s being honest, he would’ve asked you out first if not for the fact that you’re literally Joshua Hong’s little sister.

As if it’s not enough that not dating his best friend’s little sister has always been a code he follows, Shua has always been a little too protective as a brother. He’s seen firsthand how the guy scared off some who had the guts to flirt with you, seen how for two decades only two guys had ever been declared good enough to date you (he couldn’t do anything about the flings you had when you were abroad, but at least you’ve always been appreciative of his protectiveness and you never missed to inform him of some guys who were actually trying to get it on with you).

Long story short, Jeonghan does not wish to be on the receiving end of Shua’s scrutinizing eyes regardless of how much he’s actually into you.

“Look, you know me,” he starts when he realizes you’re not backing down. He looks away, pretending to be frustrated, though it’s really just because he thinks he’ll relent if he looks into your eyes a second longer. “I’m not gonna make a good boyfriend and I’m literally your brother’s best friend.”

You don’t seem to care about the first part of his sentence, irked by the fact that him being best friend with Shua would be an obstacle in your way. Shouldn’t it be easier for him to get a seal of approval if he’s already close with your brother? But, then again, Shua probably knows Jeonghan inside out and knowing too much is never a good thing.

“So what?” you say anyway, because if there’s any word that would describe you perfectly, it’s ‘stubborn’. “Why does it matter that you’re his best friend?”

Jeonghan sends you a look, and you pout because you actually get what he means. You know Shua, after all, and as much as you want to condition yourself to believe that Jeonghan would be the person Shua approves of with all his heart, you also know that even if your brother actually approves, he would put him through hell just for the fun of it.

Anyway, this doesn’t tell you at all where Jeonghan actually stands about you.

“So, you don’t like me?” you shoot straight to it, as if Jeonghan wouldn’t be able to hear your heart beating like there’s no tomorrow if he takes even one step closer–as if your ears aren’t hot from saying it out loud. Jeonghan does not need to know how flustered you actually are.

And it works, because he seems to be taken aback by your boldness and you try your best to hide a victory grin at that. You should probably be more grateful that he can’t stand to look at you for more than three seconds; if he had, he would’ve seen the tip of your ears turning red and the speck of blush on your face, which means he could’ve easily taken control of the situation and turned it against you.

His silence encourages you, because if he really doesn’t like you then he would tell you so. As much as Jeonghan is a master of tricks and he’s great at acting, he’s never been good at hiding his feelings.

Jeonghan bites his lip, trying to get a way out of this. Why can’t he just say no and be done with it? Sure, he’s not in love with you or anything (yet?), but it’s a straight out lie to say he’s never seen you that way.

After all, there’s a reason why he’s been avoiding you the past few months.

You just have to be more daring these days, and as much as he wills himself to behave, there are times when he’s already flirting with you before he knows it. He’s just lucky Shua has never caught you two.

Plus, you’ve taken a liking to wearing a crop top and it’s the absolute death of him.

“Tell you what,” you say before he does. “Date me.”

Jeonghan chokes on nothing, violently coughs that his shoulders are shaking and you actually need to pat his back so he’ll calm down.

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly, and he’s terribly conscious of your hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm, of the way your brows furrow in concern, of the way your lips are a little ajar and if he moves forward just a little–

“Yeah.” He shakes his head despite the word, then clears his throat and squares his shoulders before he looks the other way around. He doesn’t step away though, and it’s so fucking stupid that he frowns when you do. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“Date me.” You repeat anyway, though you know this is Jeonghan’s way of giving you an out in case you want to pretend like you didn’t just say that earlier. He opens his mouth, and you can hear what he’s going to say even if he hasn’t said anything so you cut him yet again. “Just for one day.”

“Kid–”

“Stop,” you say firmly, something akin to determination flashes through your eyes that he’s actually taken aback. “Stop calling me that.”

He sighs out your name, but you’re not hearing it because if you back down now you know you won’t have it in you to say this out loud again. You’re fueled by nothing but impulse and you’re not going to let Yoon Jeonghan himself slow you down.

“Han, I see the way you look at me–you’ve gone past seeing me as a kid since I came back from Sydney and it’s been a year since then. I’m not stupid.”

It’s hard to describe the way he looks at you, and he’s not blaming you because he is confused. The mixed feelings bursting in his chest is much too complicated for him to explain. Let alone through words, even his consciousness does not know how to register what he’s feeling.

Your face falls at his silence, and whatever courage that drives you up to this point is starting to ebb little by little. You’re so goddamn stupid–did you really think confessing to him would lift the weight off your shoulders? What made you think Jeonghan would be able to treat you as usual after you confessed?

Didn’t you confess only because it’s heaving you down? Because you thought you’d regret it if you stayed silent?

Then what is this weight on your chest?

What is this disappointment looming all over your body?

Why the fuck are your eyes pricking with tears?

Still, you stand your ground and square yourself up in front of him. You’ve gone this far. If you’re going to be embarrassing, might as well do it for a reason.

“Okay,” he breaks his silence, his tone defeated for whatever reason. It’s not discouraging though, more like unsure and maybe a little hopeful, and when you look up, he’s biting his lip in contemplation. “Just one day, right?”

“But you have to actually treat me like I’m your girlfriend.” You push, heart beating both in excitement and fear. Because what if he backs out of nowhere? He’s not that kind of person, but this situation is nothing sort of normal and his consciousness just might get to him if you don’t push him already.

Jeonghan bites his lip, looking at you like you’re a bad idea that he’s caving into. And he’s starting to think that it’s true. But if he’s being honest, he’s not against this at all. He also wants to know how it’d feel like to hold your hands and just listen to you talk without thinking about Shua and whatever that will follow if he ever finds out.

Frankly, one day wouldn’t be enough, but that’s better than nothing, right? And he would never have the guts to propose it himself, he admits, so this is a chance that he knows he wouldn’t get his hands on ever again.

He sighs, praying to every god up there that this won’t backfire on him.

“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than to you, and then repeats it once again, this time firmer, looking at you straight in the eyes. “Shua’s going on a business trip next week, right?”

You nod.

“I’ll see you next Saturday?”

You bite down your lip so hard that you taste blood to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot.

Tuesday, 26 July

[14:32] Yoon Jeonghan😠: beach or amusement park

[14:50] ?????

[14:50] its not a surprise?

[14:54] Yoon Jeonghan😠: just pick one, kid

[14:55] 🙄 beach ig

Thursday, 28 July

[01:11] Yoon Jeonghan😠: festival or night market

[01:12] ?????? sir?? go to sleep??

[01:12] didnt you choose a place alrd???

[01:12] but night market

[01:13] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you go to sleep

Yoon Jeonghan😠 is typing…

…

Yoon Jeonghan😠 is typing…

[01:17] Yoon Jeonghan😠: good night, kid

[01:18] nightttttt

Friday, 29 July

[22:20] Yoon Jeonghan😠: wear something light tomorrow, but bring a jacket just in case it gets cold at night

Saturday, 30 July

[00:03] k, boyfriend 😌

[00:03] sorry, i was on the phone with chaeyoung earlier

[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: i really cant with you

[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: and chaeyoung as in vernon’s cousin? your friend from high school?

[00:07] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you still talk to her?

[00:08] yes!! surprised that u rmb her :0

[00:08] and i actually just met her by accident earlier today and we decided to catch up thru the phone bc i had to go somewhere

[00:09] apparently, she’s dating choi seungcheol or smth 👀

Incoming call from Yoon Jeonghan😠 - 00:11

Call ended - 02:27

[02:27] Yoon Jeonghan😠: you fell asleep. night, babe 🤪 see you

You bite your lip in giddiness as you keep on rereading Jeonghan’s text, like you’re not giddy enough already at the prospect of today.

You fell asleep last night while on the phone with Jeonghan, but whatever curse you were about to dump into yourself for falling asleep during what might be your only chance to be on the phone with Jeonghan during ungodly hours was immediately wiped out when you saw his text.

Yes, you’d flirt with each other from time to time–but never through texts, and the prospect of having a message from him that you can read over and over again some time in the future is both delightful and… sad.

The sudden tug on your heart and consciousness is a little heavy, a reminder that he’s doing that because you asked him to. That whatever’s happening in the span of today is an illusion, one that Jeonghan agrees on creating.

Why, you don’t want to dwell on it too much.

That should be your motto for the day: fuck it.

So what if it was an illusion? Jeonghan agreed and you’re going to make the best out of it. If you’re never going to be Jeonghan’s girlfriend, might as well be shameless and live your teenage (and adult, if you’re being honest) dream and be his girlfriend for the day now so you can stamp it in your memory. You only have today and you’re not going to spend any second thinking about the technicality of it.

As far as you know, Jeonghan is your boyfriend and he’s taking you out for the day.

You jump when your phone pings, the notification on your lockscreen rids you of whatever negativity that was in your mind literally seconds ago as you grin and make your way out of your apartment.

[09:17] Yoon Jeonghan😠: am in the lobby. get ur pretty self here, angel.

For all you know, the world is plenty unfair. But seeing Jeonghan looking like that with a simple white tee and a faded pair of jeans reminds you just how unfair the world actually is. Like it’s not unfair enough already because he’s not your actual boyfriend.

“Come on, let me take a picture of you,” he says as he softly takes your hand, pulling you up from the mat. “The wind isn’t too strong and you’re looking particularly pretty today.”

You scrunch your nose as you mock annoyance, a failed attempt to mask your blush. Hopefully, Jeonghan would think you’re simply flushed because of the sun and not because of him.

“I don’t like taking pictures.”

“How dare you lie to me.” Jeonghan says without missing a beat. “I know you make Shua take a ton shit pictures of you when you’re out somewhere.”

You pout at this, and as much as you know Jeonghan doesn’t mean anything by it, the mention of your brother isn’t exactly welcome today because his name just reminds you that this isn’t real and he’s a big part of the reason why.

“Can you not talk about my brother?” You say softly, which Jeonghan easily catches even if he’s not sure you mean for him to hear or not. The sadness in your voice is genuine though, and he makes a mental note to stop mentioning Joshua for the rest of the day. He’s starting to question once again if this is the right thing to do even for a day–after all, Joshua is his best friend, and this particular conversation is the exact reason why he’s not supposed to do this.

But he’s promised you he’ll treat you like his girlfriend–perhaps another personal agenda of his because he does want to experience being able to be your boyfriend even for a day. He should’ve thought more before okay-ing your proposal instead of thinking about it right now when you’re in front of him, in a simple white shirt and a black skirt that stops just below the middle of your thigh but somehow still the prettiest he’s ever seen.

He wonders if this is how you usually dress up for your dates, and something bitter makes it to the tip of his tongue as he thinks about someone else taking you on a date.

“Sorry. Come on, let’s take a picture together.” His fingers wrap around your wrist to pull you closer before eventually linking them with yours. “You’re very pretty today, have I told you?”

“You have.” You scrunch your nose and pretend to roll your eyes at the sudden sweetness he basks you in even though you’re liking every second of it. “Literally one minute ago.”

“Well, you really do look very beautiful and I want you to know.” He lowers his voice an octave and stares right into your eyes before he eventually bursts out laughing.

“Stop!” You giggle, knowing that he’s doing this on purpose to annoy you. “That’s too fucking cheesy and you know it.”

He laughs along with you, then tightens his fingers in yours like they’re not interlocked already.

“I mean it though.” He whispers one last time, not looking at you this time around because his heart might fucking burst to say it to your face without the faux of messing with you. “You do look beautiful.”

At least you share the sentiment, as you quietly duck your head to hide your smile, whispering a thanks that’s only meant for the two of you.

Jeonghan keeps his end of the bargain, you’re happy to know, as you don’t even think about your brother and the pretense that is your relationship for the rest of the day. You freely flirt with each other, cheeky smile and winks being thrown here and there. His hands never seem to leave you, and you gladly cling on to him even if you don’t need to.

You get ice cream, insist that you want the plain strawberry one only to eventually switch with Jeonghan’s cookies and creams because his looks better. He plays hard to get before giving in to you, but not before swiping ice cream from the side of your lips and licks his thumb like that shit isn’t going to give you a heart attack.

It’s around seven when you both get to the night market not too far from the beach, and you’re both even gigglier than earlier which you didn’t think was possible. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, but you’re the furthest thing from complaining as you continue at whatever dumb jokes Jeonghan throws your way.

The night market isn’t as crowded as you think it would be, but it still is crowded and Jeonghan makes a show of throwing his arm around your shoulder because he ‘doesn’t want to lose you’ and you seem a little cold (which you kinda are).

You elbow him at this, shake your head and pretend like you’re not internally dying from the closeness between the two of you.

“That’s so lame.” You snicker. “Just say you want me close and go.”

“I do want you close.” He whispers unexpectedly, catching you entirely off guard that you trip on your own foot you almost fall on your face. He doesn’t seem to realize you tripped because you’re flustered, which works good for you, and he flicks your forehead as he scolds you to be more careful and goes back to holding your hand.

“Seriously. How are you still so clumsy?”

You don’t like being reprimanded by Jeonghan, because it awfully reminds you that you’re younger than him–that you’re his best friend’s little sister. And as much as you know Jeonghan definitely does not see you as a sister, the implication that he has to see you as one because of the association is very disheartening.

“Why are you frowning?” He copies the gesture, and you shake your head, telling him it’s nothing. The night is ending, and you don’t want to waste more time thinking about stuff that you can think of tomorrow when you’re not in a time limited relationship with Yoon Jeonghan. “No, tell me–”

“Jeonghan?”

The both of you turn at the call of his name, and your frown deepens as you see Jisoo in front of you, Jeonghan’s ex that he amicably broke up with. The one ex that has always made you feel like shit because she’s everything you’re not and they were such a picture perfect couple that you’re sure they’d go back together someday.

It does not feel good to see her today of all days.

“Oh, hi!” She kindly greets you, her smile way too genuine for you to think she’s just being polite and secretly hates you inside. Gosh. You need to stop watching too many TV dramas. “Joshua’s sister… right?”

There it is again. The reminder that you’re his sister–something you really don’t need to hear today.

“Hi.” You smile awkwardly, and only then remember your hand is still pretty much joined with Jeonghan’s. You don't know how to feel about the fact that his reflex is not to let go of your hand in front of his ex who obviously knows your brother. You try to let go of his hand, but Jeonghan holds on tighter, as if telling you it’s okay and there’s no need to worry about Jisoo.

They share a small chat for a bit before eventually parting, and Jisoo wishes you both a good night, which makes you hate yourself so much for being jealous of the girl when she doesn’t even have an ounce of bad energy towards you.

You try to enjoy the rest of the night, but Jisoo’s appearance just reminds you that this whole thing is pretty much fake. That someone out there is going to be in your place for real–able to hold his hand and just be with him all the time without having to wait for your brother to go on a business trip to even hang out with each other. Without some stupid request and guilt eating them inside out because they’re not supposed to do this.

Trying to be subtle, you put on an act of wanting to visit every stall in the festival and pretend to be tired after about thirty minutes or so. You’re surprised Jeonghan isn’t already tired to begin with, this guy has the battery of a five-years-old phone, you didn’t expect him to actually bring you around until night if you’re being completely honest.

Jeonghan complies when you tell him you’re ready to go home, and you don’t even realize he’s also being weirdly quiet because you’re too deep in your thoughts. And it’s once his car is parked on the parking lot of your apartment building that you finally open your mouth trying to say something–anything.

You want to thank him for today. To thank him for making a memory that you’ll dearly hold on to, for giving you a standard of what a boyfriend is supposed to be even for a day. For fulfilling your dumb request when he doesn’t even have to.

But what comes out of your mouth is something entirely different and you almost want to bash your head against the door of his car right after.

“Whoever’s going to be your girlfriend is very lucky.”

You can hear Jeonghan takes a sharp breath, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying because you’re just so fucking stupid like that.

You try to remind yourself that you asked for this. That Jeonghan is doing you a favour and owes you nothing. That you should be thankful you’ve even gotten the chance to play girlfriend with him when he could’ve just embarrassed you and walked away after your proposal.

The deafening silence inside the car is very loud, and you feel like you’re suffocated by things unseen that you just want to get out of the car and take a very deep breath. So you do just that: reach for the door of his car because you can’t take being so close to him anymore.

It’s your fault. You shouldn’t have asked for this. Shouldn’t have asked for a taste of heaven because surely you would want more and you’ll die of thirst right after. Now you’re just going to be awkward with him until god knows when and you’re regretting it already. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You should’ve been satisfied with your close friendship with him, with loving him from afar. Now you’ve ruined things between you and him and who knows when things will get back to normal? He’ll fucking think of you as pathetic and it’s just going to be pity in his eyes everytime he looks at you now.

“Hey!” Jeonghan jumps in alert the moment you step out of his car, quickly follows through and catches you before you take another step away from him. “What–why are you in such a hurry?”

You look down to your shoes, because you can’t stomach looking at him right now just in case you’ll see what you fear will be reflected in his eyes.

“Hey… Look at me?” He tries once again, tone getting a little helpless. But you shake your head, because you’re sure you’ll start crying if you do and you want to preserve the little dignity you still have in front of him. But Jeonghan doesn’t stop there, he whispers a ‘please?’ and lifts your chin gently so you’ll look at him, his heart breaking when he sees how close you are to tears and his throat closing at how he’s the reason behind all this.

“Thank you.” You brave yourself. It’s the least you can do, because as much as you’re going to grovel for the next few months, you know that this particular memory with Jeonghan will always be dear to your heart and you’ll treasure it forever. “I’m sorry for taking your time and–”

“Ah, fuck it.” You hear him say before he dives into your lips, not minding the way you’re frozen in place out of shock. He hums against your lips, and it’s then that you finally kiss him back, your hands settle over his shoulders and your whole body relaxed under his touch.

When the both of you pull away, you’re a little out of breath and your thoughts all over the place. But there’s a small smile in Jeonghan’s face that gets you mirroring the gesture. He closes his eyes as he places his forehead on yours, and you follow suit, feeling the warmth of his breath on your face.

“It’s… okay for me to do that, right?” He asks, albeit a little too late. You still don’t know what the whole things mean, but you find yourself chuckling, because you honestly would let him do anything to you. But he doesn’t need to know the kind of power he has over you, so you simply nod and let him have his peace.

“Han?” You say after a while. “What does this mean for us?”

Jeonghan stares into your eyes, deep in his own thoughts as if he’s trying to rearrange his words so they don’t stumble out of his mouth like a trainwreck.

“Let’s see where this takes us?”

“But Shua…?”

He presses his lips together and wraps his arms around you, pushing you into his neck as he breathes in your scent.

“Whatever happens, happens.” He decides, already resigning that he can’t possibly let you go now that he knows how it feels like to have you like this. He’ll make your brother understand somehow, but right now, he wants to be with you and savors the little time he has with you before your brother comes back, not even minding the way his phone has been vibrating in his pocket.

[Joshua sent a picture.]

Joshua: heard from Jisoo you’re on a date w my sister??????????????????

Joshua: did you finally get out of your ass and stop being in denial lmaoooooooooooooo

Joshua: just pls be safe

Joshua: she’s still my sister

Joshua: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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