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dkfile · 8 months

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gold rush

❛ everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you. ❜ ━gold rush, taylor swift

word count | 19.2k (19,220) genre | fluff, angst, slowburn, exes to lovers, summer au ━ gn!reader

though there is no denying that kim mingyu was once a big part of your life, you believe that the pain he’s left you with is long gone; he is a memory, and that is all he will ever be. but then you get home, and he’s there, and maybe you have to reconsider just how much you’ve moved on.

★ warnings | brief mention of injury/scars/blood, alcohol consumption, suggestive if u squint, seokmin and minghao meddling, i think thats it tell me if i missed anything ★ author’s note | it’s finally here!!! this took me longer than i thought it would, i really thought it’d only be on the shorter side (shorter side in dkfile means >10k words) but. this is literally 19k. i lied to myself i guess. hope u guys enjoy tho !! lmk your thoughts :D

In movies, summer signifies new beginnings. The sun’s radiance is bright enough to blind, the ocean glimmers underneath its attention, the sand is warm to the touch. Ice cream drips down your fingers and makes them uncomfortably sticky against the humid breeze. Some people come home, others leave, but they all have the intent of starting their new chapter right. Summer is about growth. It is about moving on.

It is not supposed to be about Kim Mingyu.

seok ☀️ > can you pls pick up the phone > i’m sorryyyyy that i lied to you ☹️ > forgive me!! 😓💔🙏 > do you need me to grovel? because i will

You scowl.

When you came back from college, welcomed home with open arms by your family and childhood friends, you were reassured that a certain boy — with golden skin, starry eyes, and your crushed heart in the palm of his hand — would not be back in town. Foolishly, you looked past the mischievous quirk of Minghao’s eyebrow, and the sheepish wince painted across Seokmin’s face when you expressed your delight at having them all to yourself.

There would be no ex-boyfriend to thwart your plans, no boy to drown your summer in gasoline and set it aflame.

But then your shopping cart bumps into someone else’s at the store, and when you look up, the bane of your existence is staring at you, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

You vaguely remember the rather sharp inhale Seokmin took from behind you before you scoffed, incredulous and irritated, and harshly stated that Seokmin could finish grocery shopping by himself. You do not want to associate yourself with the traitor and the liar your so-called best friend has become.

Seokmin claims you’re being rather overdramatic. He swears he didn’t know Mingyu would be home so soon.

(“So soon?” you repeated when you picked up Seokmin’s fifteenth call ten minutes ago. “What does that mean? That you knew he was always going to be coming home?”

“…Listen—”

You hung up).

You find yourself sitting in the skatepark a few blocks from the mart, legs curled up on the bench and your chin resting on your knees. As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the occupants slowly pack up and leave, until the sounds of wheels against concrete is replaced with the murmur of cicadas and the laughter from the occasional passerby.

The warmth of the wood seeps through your denim shorts, percolating across your body until you are hot underneath your clothes. Despite the heat of the day giving way to the mellow cool of the evening, sweat forms on your upper lip and hairline, an indicator that it’s too hot to sit out here and contemplate every choice you’ve made up until this moment.

Still, you stay; you’re not sure why. You never quite liked it here, had only enjoyed it when you were surrounded by your friends and their saccharine laughter. The scars on your leg are painful reminders of the multiple falls you took when he was teaching you how to skate.

(Sometimes, on bad nights, you still feel the ghost of his fingers on your waist and your wrist, guiding you on his board while children much younger than you zoom by).

You never left this area without a new injury, whether it be a bruise on the shin or a scrape on the knee.

Memories of what once was linger.

You do not remember what you had for breakfast this morning, or what show Seokmin recommended to you a few hours ago, or what car your dad was planning on buying.

But you remember Mingyu. You remember his smile and his sweet cologne and the way his hair fell into his eyes whenever his shoulders shook with laughter. You remember what it feels like to be in his bubble; it feels like you’ve been dumped into molasses — you become aware of your every move, and time begins to move just a little slower, as if you are trying to savour every moment before he disappears.

You feel him before you hear him.

That’s why you’re not surprised when he talks, his voice soft from where he stands behind the bench. You imagine him with his hands tucked into his pockets, staring at the empty ramps (he is not looking at you. You would know if he was looking at you. His gaze would burn more than a thousand wildfires).

“I thought they told you.”

Your voice comes out hoarse. “They told me you weren’t coming home.”

“Oh,” he doesn’t sound surprised, but he stills offers an apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? You’re not the one who lied.”

A quiet heartbeat passes. “Right.”

Your fingers drum against your calf. “How did you find me, anyway? Did Seokmin track my location?”

“No,” he murmurs. His voice has been quiet ever since he arrived. “I just… figured you’d be here.”

You swallow a large lump in your throat. “Oh,” you say weakly.

“Yeah,” he responds. There’s a brief moment of contemplation. He knows there’s a line he cannot cross, but he tries anyway. “Do you want a ride home?”

Your response is immediate and firm, and its harshness is enough to break the calm façade he unintentionally built around the both of you. “No. I’ll walk.”

“It’s hot,” he argues.

“I don’t need you, Mingyu,” you bite back. He clamps his mouth shut as unease settles in the pit of your stomach. “I don’t— I’ll be fine.”

He seems to hesitate; you aren’t sure how long he stands behind you, searching for a response.

Then, as if it pains him to say: “Okay.”

“Damn,” Minghao falls into Seokmin’s shoulder as they both laugh at your stumbling, “You suck!”

“Hey,” Mingyu barks, though he looks more like a puppy than the intimidating boy he imagines himself to be, “it’s not like you’re any better!”

You know Mingyu’s only saying this to make you feel better — Minghao is, arguably, the best on wheels out of the four of you — but the sentiment still warms your heart. At your smile, Mingyu’s annoyed mien is replaced with a grin of his own. He reaches over to squeeze your cheek.

“I believe in you,” he declares.

“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing,” you begin, stretching out your arms to balance on the board, “I don’t think I’m ever going to master this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Mingyu huffs, hands hovering over your sides once the skateboard begins to move, eyes trained on your feet. “By the time we get out of here, you’re gonna give Minghao a run for his money.”

You sigh. Mingyu was always one for wishful thinking.

“You really think I’ll be able to do this by myself in half an hour?”

Mingyu hums hopefully.

The sun has already begun to set, and you had promised your parents you’d be home for dinner. With fall around the corner, the days are slowly becoming shorter, a constant reminder that your last year of school is upon you. Next are college applications, then admissions, and conversations about your future that you aren’t quite ready to have.

But you’ll worry about that when you need to.

Because right now, there is the skate park, the late summer breeze, and Mingyu, who shrieks along with you when you lose balance. His arms grab onto your waist, bringing you back to the ground as the skateboard continues to roll down the concrete. Right now, there is the furrow of his eyebrows, the mixture of disappointment and amusement swirling in his eyes, and his forehead pressed against yours.

“I thought I told you not to zone out,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

You shrug, pecking his nose before pulling away to chase after the skateboard. “You’re so dramatic. The worst I could’ve gotten was a scraped knee.”

Mingyu scoffs. “So? I don’t want you getting hurt under my watch.”

“You’re my boyfriend, not my babysitter.”

“Well, I might as well be,” he argues. “You’re more accident prone than me.”

Laughing, you jokingly say, “Guess that means you’ve finally met your match, Kim.”

People used to say you and Mingyu were made for each other.

It is something you’ve tried to forget, but the fact follows you around like a shadow. This town, small and aware of the breakup, can’t seem to wrap their heads around the fact that you and Mingyu are no longer extensions of one another.

At some point, you hoped that people would understand your discomfort whenever he’s mentioned, but the fact of the matter is that you and Mingyu had been a package deal from when you were in diapers up until the end of senior year, and when you’re intertwined with someone for that long, it’s just as hard for you as it is for everyone to forget that part of yourself.

When you stop by the pharmacy, you don’t ask about him (you have no reason to), but the pharmacist still informs you that you’ve just missed him; when you see your mother’s colleague, she gushes about how nice it must be to see him after all this time (you do not have the heart to tell her otherwise); when you buy a pack of Sprite bottles for Mrs. Boo’s annual summer barbecue, the clerk asks if you know if he’s going to be in attendance (you say you have not talked to him in three years, and the clerk tilts his head in confusion).

Your patience has been worn thin by the time you arrive at Seokmin’s house.

“Hello, sunshine,” Minghao drawls when his attention settles on you. He watches you scowl before setting your bag on the armchair and taking a seat beside him on the couch. “How was your morning?”

“I’m ditching,” you declare, brushing off his question.

“Ditching what?”

“The barbecue,” you deadpan. “What else?”

“Now, why the hell would you do that?”

“Minghao,” you say blankly, “would it kill you to use your brain for once?”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

Seokmin enters the living room, carrying three cans of iced tea, all of which he places on the coffee table. He throws you and Minghao a look of annoyance. “If you guys are going to argue, please don’t do it under my roof,” he gestures around the room, “it kills the vibes.”

You roll your eyes but mutter an apology under your breath. Beside you, Minghao quips, “Y/N decided ditching the barbecue would be a good idea.”

You’re used to Seokmin’s mannerisms by now, so you don’t even flinch when he waves his arms around in disbelief. “What?” he exclaims, crouching in front of your legs and taking your hands into his. “Why the hell would you do that?”

Minghao hums. “That’s what I said.”

“Put that brain of yours to good use.”

“They said that to me, too.”

Seokmin huffs, knowing better than to let your quips deter him. “Please don’t tell me this is about Mingyu.”

You quirk an eyebrow, to which Seokmin scoffs, letting go of your hands before plopping down in front of you, even though there’s a free spot on the other side of Minghao. They scrutinize you for a moment, Seokmin’s eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a frown while Minghao stares blankly, showing no emotion or an indication of what’s going on inside his head.

It does nothing to make you feel comfortable.

You aren’t a stranger to Minghao and Seokmin’s examinations — they’re experts when it comes to breaking you down with analyzations and calculating eyes. But you haven’t been home in three years, and being on the receiving end of something as intense as this is startling, if not a little troubling.

(Being the only one enduring this, absent of a certain boy, is unsettling as well, though you’d rather die than admit that).

Seokmin nudges your ankle with his knee. “You know you’ll regret not going to this thing,” he says, eyes sparkling with amusement when you bristle. “You haven’t seen the Boo’s in forever, too. They’d be sad if you miss it.”

“Imagine how Seungkwan would feel,” Minghao adds, poking your arm to look at him, and continues to do so when you don’t. “He’d be miserable.”

You pout. “I doubt it.”

“You were in the same badminton club for five years,” Minghao argues softly, “I think he would be.”

Seokmin states, “And you’re not the type of person to let someone down, are you?” He pauses for a moment before adding, “Well, other than me and Minghao, on occasion.”

You cross your arms, leaning further into the couch as you avoid eye contact. You’re adamant on skipping, but Seokmin and Minghao know you better than anyone else, so they know exactly how to word their sentences and fabricate their bribes to get you to agree. They know, as long as you keep this up, the entirety of your summer will be spent in the four walls in your house, the only place in town guaranteed to not have Kim Mingyu.

And it may be pathetic, really, to continue letting him affect you like this.

(But it has always been you and Mingyu, Mingyu and you. He is part of your soul. There is a void in your chest that’s the shape of him. How are you supposed to erase all memory of someone like that?)

A painted fingernail pokes your side, a knee bumps your shin. Your friends look at you, hopeful.

A sigh.

“Okay, fine.”

“Can I ask you something?”

You hum, collapsing on the bench beside Seungkwan, his newly dyed platinum blonde hair appearing orange under the setting sun. Sweat trinkles down his frame but his breathing remains even, showing no sign that he just finished playing a rather intense badminton game a few minutes prior.

“What are you guys doing after you graduate?”

You take a sip from your water bottle in hopes the liquid will make it easier to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You have never minded these types of conversations, though the reminder of the future creates a pit in your stomach that only continues to grow larger with each passing day. And, knowing Seungkwan, you know there is more to his question than college applications and major declarations.

“What do you mean?”

“You, Mingyu, Minghao, and Seokmin,” Seungkwan elaborates. “You’re all going to different colleges, right?”

Pursing your lips, you risk a glance at him, only to find that he’s staring ahead. “Minghao’s going abroad, yeah, and Seokmin’s thinking of staying here,” you explain, voice low. “Mingyu and I are going to be together, though.”

At this, Seungkwan turns to you, eyebrows furrowed. “You two are going to the same university?”

There is something about the way he asks this — unsure, withdrawn, and cautious. You see the flare of uncertainty in his eyes, and it’s enough for your heartrate to quicken.

“Yeah. Why?”

He opens and closes his mouth. There is war in his head. Very rarely do you see Seungkwan at a loss for words. He is usually so quick on his feet, so witty, so talkative, and the silence that falls between you both is painful and nerve-wracking.

Should you be worried?

“Nothing,” he eventually settles for, ignoring the silent question in your eyes. “I was just thinking about how nice that would be.”

You decide to believe him. It is so much easier to be ignorant, you think.

(But it is also much more painful later. You do not allow yourself to dwell).

“Why’d you ask, anyway?”

“I was just talking to Vernon and Chan, and I realized we all want different things,” Seungkwan sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “We won’t all be together much longer. It feels… weird.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think you guys will be able to stay in touch?”

You shrug hopefully. “I think so,” you say, shifting your gaze to the horizon, “we’ve been friends forever. It’d take a lot to break that up.”

The scent of tangerines and aftershave fill your nose as you’re ambushed by a boy bursting with energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet while he resides in your arms, squeezing you tight as he spews angry statements that all come from a place of love.

Seungkwan is grinning by the time you pull away, grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you further into the backyard to catch up with other people. He doesn’t dare leave your side — he’s convinced you’ll slip away and disappear if he does — and you’re thankful; you don’t have the energy to steamroll through conversations today.

Though it’s humid, the warmth you’re engulfed in is a product of the Boo household. It is homely and welcoming and an embodiment of everything you’ve ever missed about home all in one lot. You should be happy to be here, surrounded by people you haven’t seen in years as a consequence of your avoidance, pulled into an endless pool of memories and nostalgia.

But you cannot shake it, the uneasiness.

You feel it as soon as the gate swings open and he enters, carrying two large Tupperware containers, one filled with brownies and the other with lemon squares. You feel it when he flashes his signature smile, canines as pearly white and blinding as you remember, and it still fills you with a sickening sense of joy.

“I’m gonna go get a brownie,” Seungkwan announces, loud enough to snap you out of it. “Do you want one?”

“No,” you decline, forcing yourself to smile even when you feel a burning sensation at the back of your head. “Thank you, though.”

Seungkwan nods and makes his way to the refreshments table, but not before wagging a finger in warning, “Don’t leave without saying goodbye!”

You frantically search the backyard, looking for any sign of Minghao or Seokmin, or maybe a superhero of some sorts to pull you away so you don’t disintegrate in the presence of Mingyu.

In your periphery, you see him excuse himself from conversations, eyes flickering towards you with a determination you aren’t unfamiliar with. It’s remorseful and desperate, and it reminds you of an instance in the skatepark a few years ago, you in his sweater and drowning in heartbreak and sorrow.

Someone swings their arm over your shoulder.

“Hey,” Minghao murmurs, steering you further into the backyard, away. You can’t help the sigh of relief that escapes you. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you grit your teeth.

“You’re gonna have to talk to him at some point,” he says, dropping his arm once he’s decided you’re far enough. “I feel like it’d do the both of you some good.”

“I have nothing to say to him,” you protest. “And I’m sure he has nothing to say to me.”

“I really don’t think that’s the truth.”

“It is.”

“You were in love with him,” he says. It slips out of his lips so easily, as if he were talking about the weather or the shapes of the clouds. You wish you could mutter an admission like that — accept something like that — the way he had. “And he was in love with you, and it ended badly. That is more than enough of a reason to talk.”

It ended badly. You always associated a statement like that with relationships that ended in screaming matches or slamming doors. Ones where a simple argument escalated into one that finalized a conclusion, ones where there was nothing in the room but anger and exhaustion that overpowered the love.

You’ve never associated it with how your relationship with Mingyu ended. The sun was rising, and birds were chirping, and you were standing in the same spot you asked him out, the same spot he asked you to prom, the same spot he murmured three simple words into your ear before you fell asleep on his shoulder on the park bench.

It didn’t end because of a fight. Sometimes, you wish it had — maybe then you’d feel differently about everything, about him.

It just came to a halt, and he had been the one to step on the brakes.

“Talk to him,” Minghao urges again, sympathetic but firm. “You don’t have to do it now, but just do it before you leave. Don’t you think you deserve some closure?”

You find him talking to some of your classmates from your graduating class. They hang onto every word he says, face alit with curiosity and admiration, because some things never change, and he has been put on a pedestal since birth. In the hallways of the high school, his name is on the trophies, he’s beaming in most of the pages in the yearbook, he is this town’s pride and joy.

But you know him.

You see him smile and you’re not blind to the discomfort and falseness behind it. He doesn’t want to be there, you think, and your thoughts are proven correct when he glances up to look at you, and his mask slips by a fraction. For a moment, you see sincerity, a glimpse of the Mingyu you once knew.

Someone taps him on the shoulder and, as you predicted, he puts the mask back on.

You hate that you still know him like the back of your hand.

He is leaning against your frame, playing with your fingers, when he asks the question.

“How do you do it?” he wonders, looking up briefly to meet your questioning gaze before returning his focus on your hands, tapping them to the beat of an overplayed pop song.

His head has dipped down, allowing you to rest your cheek against it. “Do what?”

“Talk to everyone like that,” he says, using his free hand to gesture towards the backyard filled with the people you’re currently hiding from. The both of you sit on the staircase by the front entrance, away from any prying eyes. “They were hanging onto every word you said. They’re practically in love with you.”

You snicker. “What, don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

Mingyu matches your teasing tone with a playful lilt of his own. “Oh, I am. I’ve got some competition.”

You nudge him with your shoulder. “Don’t be too upset when I pick Mrs. Boo over you.”

He hums. “No promises.”

A blanket of comfortable silence falls over you. He fidgets with your hands, brushing his thumb over your nails, and tracing the lines of your palms with his index finger. You close your eyes, listening to the fading chatter of the town and the faint sizzling of meat on the grill.

“I should be asking you that, y’know,” you eventually mumble. Mingyu’s movements stop. “You’ve got the whole town wrapped around your finger. I’m pretty sure everybody loves you.”

To get you to open your eyes, he pokes your cheek. “The same could be said about you,” he responds. “Besides, people only like the idea of me. What would they say if they found out my room’s never clean and I cycle through the same two pairs of socks year-round?”

You wrinkle your nose. “God, remind me to buy you a pack of socks from the store next time I’m at the mall.”

He laughs, an unpleasant snort involuntarily escaping his nose. “I’m serious. They don’t like me. They like the illusion.”

You finally look at him, meeting his softened gaze and mellow smile. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

“No, not really,” he shrugs, but there is a minuscule halt in his voice that you don’t catch. “The only opinion that matters to me is yours.”

You’re convinced Seokmin and Minghao are saints.

(You would never admit this, though. They would never shut up if you did).

For the entire 40-minute car ride, they manage to keep the calm, filling the silence with anecdotes about people you have only heard about through irregular video calls, and arguments about who should be in control of the music. Eventually, they settle for handing the aux over to Mingyu, who meets your gaze through the rearview mirror before clicking on a familiar playlist and looking out the window.

After the first five songs, your face heats up as you remember bashfully making him a playlist back in high school. You settle into your spot, hoping the battered polyester of Seokmin’s car seats will swallow you whole.

When you agreed to tag along on their trip out of town and into the city, Minghao and Seokmin didn’t bother hiding their surprise, especially since they made it clear Mingyu was going to be in attendance. Seungkwan even offered to let you carpool with him, Vernon, and Chan, but you declined — you might as well suck it up, seeing as you and Mingyu are going to be in the same vicinity for the rest of the summer.

Still, you can’t help but regret your decisions as you squirm in the backseat behind Seokmin, who’s fiddling with the A/C, listening intently to a story Minghao’s telling about some scandal involving two classmates he’s never talked to before. You’re thankful for their nosiness, because it gives you some level of comfort and helps you ignore Mingyu’s fleeting glances from the passenger seat.

“The professor’s a hardass so everyone was convinced they were fucking,” Minghao says, leaning forward in his seat. “Turns out he was just her stepdad, who suffered from a chronic case of favouritism.”

Seokmin snorts. “Out of all the conclusions to jump to, that’s the one they picked?”

Minghao quirks an eyebrow. “You of all people should not be saying that.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

As Seokmin and Minghao begin to bicker for the nth time that evening, your gaze slides from the window to the Snoopy trinket hanging from the rearview mirror to the mirror itself, and you can’t find it in you to be surprised when you see Mingyu already looking at you. An unsaid question dances in his eyes, wary and timid.

Are you sure this is okay?

You gulp, worrying your lips between your teeth before shrugging. Yes, it’s fine.

He raises his eyebrow. This is the first time you’ve acknowledged him tonight.

Really?

You shrug again. Really.

And you leave it at that, turning again to look outside.

Seokmin takes fifteen minutes to find a decent parking spot, so when you finally enter the nightclub, you’re prepared for the scowl on Seungkwan’s face when he spots the four of you. He scolds Seokmin first and receives a flick to his forehead in response, which only angers him more. Before you can meet his wrath, you slip away, moving to enter the booth and letting Mingyu and Minghao get the brunt of Seungkwan’s rage and disappointment.

“Y/N!” Chan exclaims when you settle next to him, wrapping his arms around your torso to give you a brief hug before sliding you his unfinished pint of beer. “I haven’t talked to you in forever!”

When you take a sip of the alcohol, you try your best to hide your grimace when the lukewarm liquid hits your tongue. “I talked to you at the barbecue two days ago.”

“Well, I missed you. Sue me,” he throws his hands up in exasperation. Across from you, Vernon hides his amused smile behind his own pint. “You come home after, what, three years? Forgive me if I’ve become clingy.”

“Didn’t know you missed me so much.”

Vernon’s eyes are dripping with mirth. “He went broke from using all his coins at the fountain in town square,” he says, laughing when Chan shoots him daggers. “He went there whenever he was free and was wishing you’d come back—”

“He’s exaggerating,” Chan huffs. In retaliation to Vernon’s teasing, Chan takes his friend’s pint of beer and chugs it down until there is nothing left. “I only wished whenever Mingyu was home, he was so mopey, he would’ve been happier if you were here.”

You freeze.

“Okay,” Vernon interjects, pushing himself out of his seat to move all the empty glasses away from Chan, as if doing so will help the situation. He throws you an apologetic look, though it lacks his usual sincerity. “That’s enough for tonight.”

Chan whines. “But I wanted to do tequila shots with everyone.”

“Drink this first,” Vernon instructs.

Chan grumbles but accepts the glass of water Vernon gives him.

Before you can say something about Chan’s offhanded comment, the rest of your friends climb into the booth, and Vernon and Chan ease their way into their conversation as soon as everyone’s seated. You lean back, cowering behind Minghao and Chan’s frames as Seungkwan makes a joke you barely catch and Minghao repeats every story he told on the journey here.

You try your best to engage in the conversation, really, but it’s been so long since you’ve been with this group of people. As they discuss events you were never there for, snippets of a summer you weren’t part of, the awkwardness begins to build in your stomach, because it was never supposed to be like this, you were never supposed to feel left out.

If the person you were a few years ago saw you now, you know they’d be a little disappointed. Maybe they’d pity you, too.

The consequences, you suppose, of never coming home.

Sighing, you gesture for Minghao to slip out of the booth so you can get out. You say something about going to the bar to get another drink, and he nods, squeezing your shoulder — his silent way of telling you to stay safe — before letting you go.

You try your best to avoid any stumbling individuals, wrinkling your nose and murmuring apologies that get lost in the noise when you can’t avoid bumping into someone. With a glance over your shoulder, you make sure your friends aren’t paying any attention to you before making your way towards the exit.

It’s a warm evening, but it’s cooler than it is inside, and you relish in the temporary peace before you have to inevitably make your way back. They’ll notice if you’re gone too long, and they’ve always been easy to worry.

“Hey.”

A tall frame enters your periphery, clad in a loose white t-shirt and light-washed jeans, staring ahead at the passing cars. You ignore the way his face falls when you shuffle further to the side, away from him.

Your history aside, Kim Mingyu has always run hot. Before, you wouldn’t mind — before, you would’ve been clinging onto him — but time has passed, and you aren’t the same people you were back in high school.

A part of you misses it. There is something so comfortable about Mingyu that you can only describe in insignificant memories, like when he moves you to the side furthest from the road, or when he wraps his scarf around your neck because the cold is nipping at your nose, or when he buys mini versions of your skincare products to keep in his house for when you’re too tired to drive back home.

It's almost homely. Like a hug, maybe.

(You missed it a lot, at first, his aura. Whenever you needed it most, you’d lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, and instead of sheep lulling you into slumber, it’s him. Way back when, he’d rub circles into your wrist to help you fall asleep, and you think of it then, because it used to bring you so much comfort).

(In your dreams, you murmur his name — Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu — like a prayer, like an incantation).

“I’m sorry.”

You jolt in surprise. Not at his voice, but at the apology. “Why?”

“You’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” you protest with a frown. “I’m just… I couldn’t think of how to contribute to the conversation, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says gently. He looks relieved. “So, you’re okay that I’m here?”

“Yeah, I mean, they’re your friends, too.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

A quiet moment passes, and you see the relief begin to crumble.

“Yeah, I don’t mind that you’re here,” you offer. The next sentence slips out before you can stop it, “I’m glad, actually.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “You are?”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, wincing. “A little. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Before this month, you only saw him through Instagram, glimpses of his life that were curated to make his life seem special and happy and void of any worries. You only heard about him — the real him — when his name accidentally slipped out of your friends’ or your family’s mouths.

You can’t help but think that it wasn’t enough.

“How’s school?” he asks, subtly moving so he’s slightly facing you.

“It’s alright,” you answer. “Stressful, but that’s a given. My roommate got a boyfriend, though. He leaves his shit everywhere and he acts like he lives there.”

A soft chuckle leaves his lips. “Yeah, I know, Minghao told me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Oh? Why would he tell you that?”

“I asked,” he shrugs. You finally, really look at him now, and your confusion is evident. He seems unfazed by it, but you can see the crimson slowly climbing up his neck. “I ask about you sometimes.”

“Why?”

You know why, you think. What’s the point in asking when you already know the reason behind his actions and intentions? Your soul is intertwined with his, it has been for a while, but you can’t seem to accept it.

You still hurt.

Minghao’s right. Maybe the closure is needed.

“Because I care about you,” he confesses, trying his best to hide his yearning. “You were my best friend, and I want to know if you’re still doing okay.”

Your fingers shake, so you stuff them into the pockets of your sweater. “And what do they tell you when you ask?”

He hesitates, scanning your face while he plans his best course of action. The wounds haven’t closed, the stitches were poorly sewn, and blood spills out of the cuts he left like the damage he’s done is fresh.

“They tell me that I should ask you myself,” he says, “But sometimes they take pity on me, and they’ll tell me things you’ve told them. Like the roommate situation, or the barista who fucked up your order, or how you scored the highest on an exam— congratulations, by the way.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Thank you,” you reply meekly.

“It’s no problem,” he responds. Contemplation flickers across his face before he adds, rather reluctantly, “I’m proud of you, you know.”

You feel the same way you did when he first confessed, like an immature and blubbering teenager, full of hope and optimism and dreams of what could be.

“Mingyu—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts. “I’ve seen the stuff you’ve posted, and I should’ve congratulated you then, I know that, but—”

You give him a small smile. “Better late than never.”

He flashes you a grin, the same one you’d longed to see, the one you used to humiliate yourself for. You would’ve done anything to see him smile like that — a smile that isn’t put on just for show, but one that’s genuine and blinding. It’s something reserved for certain people, those who have seen through the illusion that was created for him, those who have seen it and still love him for who he is, despite his faults and imperfections.

He nods. “Better late than never.”

Despite your best efforts to squash your delight, your heart escapes your desperate grip, and it soars.

It’s cold.

The ground has frozen over, leaving jagged pieces of ice all over the concrete. The snow, previously a crisp white, has turned brown due to its contact with cars. The wind is cold, persistent, it refuses to let you forget about its existence with each gust.

On the other side of the parking lot, you see your friends whisper amongst themselves before one of them throws his hands up in exasperation and stomps over to his car, a beat-up vehicle with torn polyester seats and discarded bubblegum wrappers on the floor. He’s grumbling something under his breath as he settles into the driver’s seat and leaves without so much as a goodbye.

It’s cold, and something’s wrong.

Your eyes find Mingyu’s and your stomach sinks.

Something’s wrong, but you’re unsure whether you’ll find out what it is tonight.

“Hey,” you say once he’s in earshot. He stiffens at the sound of your voice. “Is Seokmin okay?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says. “I’ll just apologize tomorrow morning.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing big.” He tightens the scarf around his neck and turns to walk towards his car. You follow, because with Mingyu you always do, and look at him over the roof as he digs in his pockets for his keys.

You clench your jaw, uncomfortable (when was the last time you’ve felt unpleasant around him? Things have started getting weirder since everyone started sending in their college applications). You wonder if you should push for answers, but you stop yourself before you can open your mouth. You’ve never done something like this before — Mingyu has always told you everything; secrets between the two of you are scarce.

He unlocks the doors. “Is it okay if we stop by the convenience store before I bring you home? I gotta buy some ramen for my sister.”

He looks tired. Maybe you can ask him about what happened another day.

“Yeah, sure.”

He nods in thanks and enters before another gust of wind hits — it’s harsher this time, as if it’s sending you a warning.

You really should’ve brought your own scarf.

When your family yells for you to open the door, the last thing you expect to see on the other side of it is Kim Mingyu.

Your ire is gone in a flash.

“Um…”

Mingyu winces. “Hi. Sorry, I— your brother called me, he said it was an emergency, and I was worried, so—”

“Mingyu!” your brother yells excitedly, running out of the kitchen before throwing his arms around Mingyu’s torso. “You’re here! Thank God, Y/N was ruining the cake—”

You scoff loudly. “What the fuck, Daeshim? You’re the one who put in salt instead of sugar—"

“Get in, get in!” Daeshim says cheerily, throwing you a glare. You narrow your eyes in return, ignoring how Mingyu’s hands brush against yours when he makes his way towards the kitchen after toeing off his shoes. Daeshim pokes you. “I’m telling Mom you swore.”

“What are you, five?”

Daeshim sticks his tongue out. “Add some money in the swear jar.”

“I hate you,” you deadpan. Your eyes flicker to the white sneakers neatly placed by the other footwear, worn from years of use. “Why did you ask him to come here?”

Your brother shrugs. “He usually stops by, anyway, to help for Mom’s birthday.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” he says sarcastically, gesturing for you to move so he can shut the front door. “Are you sure you guys broke up? Cause when you didn’t come home for the summer, he would still check up on us and stuff, and he’d always ask about you. It was so weird. It felt like I was a child of divorce.”

You smack him on the head. “Can you not say that about my relationship?”

“Well, it’s not a relationship anymore,” he quips.

You tense, crossing your arms so you don’t give Daeshim the delight of seeing your clenched fists. “You know what I meant.”

“If you don’t want to stay, then go. But he’s not going anywhere until Mom’s cake is done.”

“Why not? We were doing just fine without him.”

“Are you serious? You know he’s better at baking than you ever will be.”

“Okay, rude.”

“It’s true—”

“Uh, guys?” Both of your heads snap to wear Mingyu peeks around the corner, his amusement thinly veiled behind his distress. “Your kitchen’s a mess.”

Daeshim grins, pointing his finger at you. “Y/N’s fault!” he exclaims before heading to the kitchen.

You poke your cheek with your tongue in annoyance, watching your sibling nonchalantly disappear from your line of sight before you focus on Mingyu. He’s leaning against the wall now, hands shoved in his sweatpants and his head tilted to the side. He looks at you like he’s studying you, trying to find a sign of any kind that he needs to leave.

He must’ve found nothing because he stays.

You clear your throat, straightening your posture. “It was not my fault.”

His lips quirk up. “Oh, I’m sure.”

He disappears before you can retort.

(He’s always been good at that — leaving before you have a chance to fight).

When you finally join them in the kitchen, there’s a familiar baby pink apron around Mingyu’s neck, already splattered with cake batter as he whisks something in a steel bowl. Daeshim is crouched in front of the fridge, putting containers of leftovers on the floor in search of something. You kick his leg with your foot, throwing him off balance, and you both give each other matching scowls.

“Don’t put the Tupperware on the floor.”

He rolls his eyes but picks them up without argument, placing them on the empty counter by the fridge. You don’t understand why he couldn’t have done that in the first place, but Daeshim is notorious for making terrible decisions.

You don’t miss the way Mingyu’s eyes soften when he sees you. “You’re gonna help?”

“I came with the intention to supervise Daeshim and make sure he doesn’t accidentally set something on fire, but…” you shrug, “I could help, yeah.”

“Perfect,” Mingyu grins. “Can you get the baking pan?”

You do as he asks, handing it over to him over the kitchen island. “You’re gonna put it in the oven already? Daeshim was complaining about the batter so much he almost convinced me there was no saving it.”

Mingyu snorts as he cautiously pours the mixture into the pan. “He was just being overdramatic—”

Daeshim snaps from his spot near the fridge. “Are you guys just gonna talk about me as if I’m not here?”

“—it was only a little runny,” he assures, making sure not a drop of batter ends up on the floor or the countertop. Once he’s done, he brushes his hands on the apron and wipes his forehead with his arm. “Can you put it in the oven? You guys preheated it, right?”

You hum in confirmation, carefully placing the tin in the oven as Mingyu steps over Daeshim to try and get to the sink. You frown at your brother, who’s been scouring for something since you walked in. “What the hell are you even looking for?”

“Strawberry milk.”

“I drank it all.”

Daeshim huffs. “Of course you did.” He stands, slamming the fridge door with a dramatic flick of his wrist before hastily making his way out of the kitchen and towards the exit. “I’m gonna go to the convenience store to get some.”

“Wha— No, you have to help clean—”

“Can’t hear you!”

There’s a few more footsteps and the sound of Daeshim struggling to put his shoes on before the door inevitably slams shut.

You don’t let the shock of your brother’s irritating audacity bother you for too long. The way your fingers swipe through your phone to find his contact is lightning quick, but the first call is sent to voicemail and before you can even try his cell a second time, you find that you’re blocked.

Prick.

Mingyu’s humming catches your attention. You look up from your phone to find him with his back against the sink. “Voicemail?”

“Blocked.”

Mingyu snorts. “Of course.”

You send him an awkward smile before turning away so you don’t have to face him. You and Mingyu haven’t spoken since last week on that trip out of town; after the two of you slipped back inside, no words were exchanged except for an apprehensive goodnight when Seokmin dropped you off at home.

With friends as nosy as your own, privacy is hard to come by, but now, in their absence, there’s nothing more you want than a buffer. The tension’s become more palpable without a third party, and your palms are getting clammy at just the thought of searching for an excuse to kick Mingyu out of the house without hurting his feelings.

(Why do you care? He hurt you first, didn’t he?)

“Hey,” Mingyu calls out tentatively. “Do you want me to help clean up? It’s a mess in here.” When you don’t reply, he adds, “I don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”

You take a look at the kitchen around you and decide that you don’t want him to leave, either.

“Okay.”

Mingyu grins. “Okay.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to find a system that’s not messy or chaotic or involves stepping into the other’s path — you and Mingyu have always been like that, like a cohesive unit. The feeling that shoots through your veins at the realization that you still are is nothing short of euphoric.

Before you know it, the kitchen is clean. The surface sparkles as Mingyu swipes a finger at it to see if there’s anything he’s missed, looking up at you with fleeting disappointment.

You think he’s about to announce that it’s time for him to go, but he surprises you when what comes out of his mouth is a question instead.

“Can I ask you something?”

You press yourself against the counter, thankful for the kitchen island acting as a barrier between you both. “Sure.”

“If we…” he pauses. Regret already begins to fester in his skin, pulled down by the weight of his frown and the pinch in his eyebrows. “Uh, never mind.”

Your heart lurches in your ribcage. “Mingyu—”

“It’s fine,” he assures but his smile is tight, and his tone says otherwise, “I should probably head back. I’ll — uh — I’ll see you?”

You gnaw at your bottom lip. “Yeah,” you say, ignoring the way your heart begins to crack as Mingyu unties the apron and slips it over his head. “Yeah, I’ll see you.”

A worrying cloud has attached itself to you, nibbling on every last bit of your sanity like a parasite. Because something is wrong, you’re sure of it, even if everyone around you acts otherwise. Seokmin still laughs and makes bad jokes, Minghao still scolds you for not bundling up more when it’s so cold outside, and Mingyu still attracts attention and reaches for your hand and pokes your cheek whenever you’re not paying enough attention to him.

Everything is normal.

(But…)

“Does this look stupid?” Mingyu asks, staring at the banner he’s hung up.

Minghao grabs a macaroon from the table and rearranges the assortment, so it looks like he never laid a finger on it. “Yes.”

Mingyu huffs before turning to you. “Is it really?”

“It’s a little crooked,” you say, taking your eyes off him for a moment when Minghao presses the macaroon into your palm after making a face to suggest he doesn’t like it.

As Mingyu assesses the best way to fix the Happy Birthday! banner, Minghao starts poking at the pile of presents. You frown, kicking his ankle with your foot in an attempt to get him to stop. He only flicks your shoulder in response.

“Don’t touch those,” you hiss.

“I’m just trying to guess what other people got him,” Minghao retorts.

You deadpan, “You’re sizing up the competition.”

“Yes,” he confirms, “I need to make sure my present is better than all of these.”

“You got him a gift card to Party City. I didn’t even know they had those.”

“He can use it for Halloween!”

“Halloween is nine months away.”

“Oh, whatever,” Minghao grumbles. “Seungkwan will find some sort of use for it. All that matters is that my present isn’t the worst one.” He turns to you, jabbing a finger at your shoulder. “Hey, wait, what did you get him?”

You push his wrist as a scowl takes over your previous amused expression. “What’s it to you?”

“You’re a horrible gift-giver.”

“That’s not true!” you object, immediately turning to walk over to Mingyu, who’s staring at the banner in distress. “Gyu! I need to ask you something—”

“Nuh-uh, you can’t ask him, he’ll agree with you!”

You mockingly pout at Minghao before tugging Mingyu’s sleeve. “Hey, babe, question.”

Mingyu’s more than happy to have his attention on something else, letting his hands that were previously taping up the banner fall onto your shoulders. “What’s up?”

“I’m a good gift-giver, right?”

A moment passes. You scoff. Minghao cackles.

“Listen—”

“What the hell?”

“I love you and everything,” Mingyu begins, “but you really aren’t.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t,” he says quickly. “You love me. Even though you gave me a terrible birthday present last year.”

“You said you liked that apron!”

Minghao pipes up, “There’s a reason why he leaves it at your house, Y/N.”

You gasp, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend’s chest. Before you have a chance to defend your honour, Seokmin comes barrelling into the rented community centre, carrying two boxes of used decorations.

“Hey, guys,” he exhales, out of breath, dropping the large containers on the floor with a relieved huff. “So, the guests are coming in, like, twenty minutes, and Chan’s getting Seungkwan here in forty-five, so that should give us enough time to finish decorating… Mingyu, I thought I told you to deal with the banner?”

“It’s not cooperating with me,” your boyfriend whines.

Seokmin rolls his eyes before stomping over to the wall to fix the banner himself. Mingyu follows, grabbing the tape on his way so he can help. They don’t talk, at least not at a volume that allows you to hear what they’re saying — it’s only heated whispers that are exchanged, and you catch a glimpse of Mingyu’s nervous expression before it disappears completely.

He looks over his shoulder and flashes you a smile and it’s the same one you’ve seen him give everyone else. It’s a mask.

This isn’t something you should be on the receiving end of.

You open your mouth to say something — to say what, exactly, you aren’t sure — but Minghao tugs at your wrists and holds up a packet of balloons.

“We should start doing something before Seokmin gets mad,” he says before dragging you out of Seokmin and Mingyu’s earshot.

It’ll be okay, you think. This will pass over and your friend group will still be as close as you can be once university comes and you and Mingyu pack your bags, leaving this small town behind.

(But your worries refuse to let go; they’ve seeped into your bones, and you think their weight may crush you until you’re broken beyond repair. But ignorance is bliss, isn’t it? That’s what you’ve always said to yourself. And you’ve never needed to worry about something like this, whatever it is, before).

Everything will be fine.

Everything will not be fine, and you aren’t sure why Minghao thought it would be, but he was unbelievably wrong.

A rainy day has caused a picnic in the park to turn into a board game night at Seokmin’s house, and a homicidal game of Monopoly (a skit between Chan and Seokmin had been the last straw before Minghao flipped the board over) quickly transformed into a homicidal game of Twister. Before you is a jungle of limbs, and you’re glad that you were fast enough to volunteer to spin the wheel so you wouldn’t be caught in the inevitable crossfire.

“Left hand, red.”

Chan’s complaints come immediately.

“Chan,” Seungkwan warns, “I will kill you if you try to push me off.”

“I haven’t even moved yet.”

Seungkwan mocks his words with a high-pitched tone that barely resembles Chan’s voice before Minghao scolds them to cut it out and hurry up. Chan scoffs indignantly before moving his hand to a free red circle, struggling to find his balance.

“Are you good?” you ask blankly.

“Fine,” he grits out, “Just go so it gets to my turn faster.”

“Go slower!” Vernon exclaims from beside you, the first to be eliminated with his phone in one hand and a handful of popcorn in the other.

“Fuck you, Vernon!”

You spin the wheel. “Hao, right foot, green.”

Minghao huffs, but his new position, although uncomfortable, has given him the perfect opportunity to sabotage Seokmin. Almost as if they can sense your thoughts, your friends look at each other, one mischievous and the other in warning, before Minghao fakes a move, successfully luring Seokmin into his trap when the latter flinches and flails like a fish out of water before landing on his side.

Seokmin groans, sitting up and rubbing his ribcage as everyone laughs. He looks to you, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that always manage to worm him out of any undesirable situation he’s ever found himself in, but you only shrug helplessly in response. Seokmin sighs, flicking Minghao’s forehead, before making he settles beside you in all his pouty, wronged glory.

“It’s okay,” Vernon says from your other side, phone speaker pressed against his ear as a video of what just occurred plays on the phone. The sound of Seokmin’s yelp of surprise from 30 seconds ago causes your lips to twitch upwards. “You’ll get them next time!”

Seokmin leans into your shoulder. “Y/N! He’s making fun of me!”

You pat him reassuringly. “You’ll survive, don’t worry.”

“Hey!” Seungkwan interrupts. “Spin the wheel! It’s my turn.”

“Okay, okay! Right foot, blue.”

Much to your surprise, the rest of the game goes by smoothly with Seungkwan as the victor. Chan is beside himself, grumbling with his arms crossed as Seungkwan mimics the fall that led to his demise. When Chan opens his mouth to snap back, Minghao reaches over Vernon’s lap for the remote to increase the volume of the TV.

Once their argument has died down, Chan suggests, “Does anyone want to play Cards Against Humanity?”

“Lame, absolutely not,” Seokmin replies instantly. “I’m hungry.”

Seungkwan makes himself comfortable on the armchair. “Pizza should be coming soon. Who ordered it, anyway?” Mingyu raises his hand. “What did you get?”

“One cheese, one pepperoni.”

Chan boos, making a comment about the mediocre order which Mingyu skillfully brushes off, immune to his friends’ instigations after years of receiving them.

Minghao pokes Mingyu with his foot. “Can you check to see what time it’ll get here?”

Mingyu unlocks his phone while Vernon begins complaining about having to register for classes first thing tomorrow morning. His whines are halted, however, when Mingyu sharply inhales a breath and clears his throat sheepishly.

You raise an eyebrow. Everyone in the room knows what that means.

“Oh, what did you do now?”

“Seungkwan! What makes you think I did something wrong?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Mingyu shakes his head before turning his phone so the screen is facing all of you. The screen says the order’s been good to go for the past five minutes, but— “I accidentally ordered for pick-up, not delivery.”

Chan rolls his eyes. “Then go pick it up.”

“What?”

“Well, it says the order’s ready, right? Go pick it up.”

“But I’m so comfortable here.”

“And we’re hungry.”

“Why does it have to be me?”

“Whose fault is it that the pizza guy isn’t on Seokmin’s doorstep right now?”

Mingyu huffs, clearly having run out of retorts. He’s quick to admit defeat, pushing himself off the couch and adjusting the hoodie that’s ridden up his torso. You watch his every move, ignoring Minghao’s gaze.

Just as he begins searching for his car keys, Minghao pipes up, “You shouldn’t go alone, though.”

Mingyu frowns. “Huh? Why not?”

“Because you’re clumsy and you’ll drop something.”

“Can’t you guys put some faith in me—?”

“Y/N could go with you.”

Mingyu closes his mouth, trapping any more complaints behind his teeth. You stare at Minghao like a deer caught in headlights.

Vernon is the first to protest, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I don’t—”

“Mingyu’s clumsy and he’ll drop something,” Minghao repeats impatiently. He shares a glance with Seokmin, who seems to understand Minghao’s intentions in milliseconds.

“Yeah, and we can’t let Y/N go by themselves because the last time they drove they ran over my mailbox.”

You squawk in protest. “That was when I was sixteen, I—”

“And I’ve feared you every time you’ve gotten behind a wheel ever since,” Seokmin says. He swiftly dodges Seungkwan’s questioning nudge and Chan’s panic, giving you the biggest smile he can muster before letting his eyes land back on Minghao.

Minghao looks at you, apologetic and stern all at once. “The ride will only be, like, ten minutes. Five minutes there and back,” he shrugs, turning away to face the TV. “You’re both adults, you’ll be fine.”

You think you might strangle them.

“Okay,” Mingyu says from behind you. You look at him, he stares back. “We’ll be okay. Right?”

He’s offering you one last final chance to back out. Your fingers twitch at your side before you gulp, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

You’re shoved out the door before you can even blink, wearing Seokmin’s old Crocs instead of the sneakers you had arrived with (“These are faster to put on, make haste, make haste! Get out of here, I want my pizza!”). You sink further and further into the passenger seat as Mingyu pulls out of the driveway, trying your best to focus on anything besides him.

But it proves to be impossible. The air freshener is the same as it was all those years ago, the same cheap dog bobblehead is on the dashboard, the pack of gum he’s left in the cupholder is the same one he used to buy in bulk at the supermarket. Nothing in here has changed, as if the vehicle is stuck in time, refusing to move forward despite all the years that have passed.

Mingyu must’ve noticed you staring at the gum because he picks it up and hands it to you in silent offering. You shake your head, and he puts it down.

The awkwardness might as well eat you whole.

The radio does nothing to ease the tension when the next song that plays is about heartbreak and being left behind while everyone moves on. Your sanity is hanging on by a thread that might snap if you’re in this car any longer.

In the corner of your eye, Mingyu opens his mouth to speak, but he decides against it when the pizza parlour comes into view. He swiftly parks by the front entrance, and once you get out, you notice that the car is centred perfectly between the lines.

You suppose he’s gotten better at driving over the years. The last time you were here, he’d parked so crookedly your stomach hurt from laughing.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, staring at you quizzically. “Are you good?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, slipping past him when he holds the door open for you. “Thanks.”

He walks up to the counter, saying his order number to the employee and nodding understandingly when she explains that one of the pizzas had been dropped on the floor and they’ve gone to remake the order. He returns to you — beside you, as if it has always been his rightful place — hands tucked into his pockets as he sways on the balls of his feet.

This must be some form of torture, you think. Minghao and Seokmin have done this in retaliation for every bad thing you’ve ever done to them.

(“Seokmin and I love you both,” Minghao confesses over the phone, face blurry due to your unpredictable wi-fi, “You know that, right?”

“I do.”

“And we really think you should talk to each other,” he says, and even though you’re not looking at your phone, you can tell he’s staring at you in that analytical way of his while you try to finish an assignment. “Maybe it’ll do you some good.”

You sigh. “Hao—”

“It’s been three months. Let him explain.”

“I did,” you hiss. “He was the one that left.”

Silence. You rub your temples.

When you finally look at Minghao, he’s remorseful. “Sorry,” he murmurs, flopping onto his bed and letting his camera pan up to the ceiling. You can no longer see his face, but you can hear the despair in his voice. “It’s just hard, being in the middle of this.”

“I’m not asking you to pick sides.”

“I know that,” he argues softly. “I just want everything to go back to normal.”)

You dig your nails into your skin as Mingyu begins humming to a song playing over the speakers. It’s one that they’ve been playing for years, a pop song that will have to be pried out of a radio host’s dead, cold hands.

It’s a song Mingyu despises.

(It’s so catchy, though, he used to tell you, ashamed. You need to save me from it).

When Daeshim had called you at the end of the semester, the first thing out of his lips was a question about your return. You had agreed with reluctance, and he said something about how long it’s been, how time heals all wounds, that nothing should hurt anymore.

But three years cannot erase a lifetime.

You foolishly thought it could. When you arrived, you pretended you didn’t see an old photo of him taped on your closet door. When you first saw him at the supermarket, you ignored the way his hand twitched to reach over to you. When he talked to you outside of that nightclub, you evaded the familiarity of his warmth like it was a virus.

You foolishly thought it was enough. You built a wall of indifference around yourself, but it had begun to chip away just as quickly as you constructed it. It was never foolproof. It was never made of stone, but of cards.

One glance from Mingyu and it all comes tumbling down.

“Minghao told me a few days ago that you wanted to talk,” Mingyu says once the song has ended.

“Yeah.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“Not yet, no.”

“Well,” he says, taking a step towards the counter when the employee calls out his order number, “whenever you’re ready to, I’m here.”

“Something’s wrong.”

He understands what you mean. You’re not referring to the TV that won’t play the movie or the takeout that tastes a little off. You look at him nervously, afraid to break the flimsy spell of calm he’s enchanted on everything he touches.

“Yeah,” he replies, gripping the armrest tightly.

You blink at him, waiting for something he won’t offer. For a moment, he thinks you might push, but you have never been one to do so; you have always believed that doing something like that only throws you down a road of hurt.

So, he shouldn’t be surprised when you eventually nod in defeat.

“Well,” you say with a smile reserved for strangers you can only pretend to care about, “if you need to talk about it, I’m here.”

Four friends occupy a small corner of the skatepark. One of them is on the ramps, appearing in the air to do a trick before disappearing from sight. Another is rolling down the concrete, hands stretched out to maintain balance.

Two sit in the shade, watching.

“Do you think they’ll talk soon?” one of them asks, a taller boy with light brown hair and a beauty mark near the apple of his cheek.

The other, dressed in all black despite the sweltering heat, runs a hand through his mullet. “I don’t know, Seokmin. Probably. Hopefully.”

“Do you think they’re mad at us for forcing them to get the pizza?”

“Yes.”

Seokmin snorts, but his amusement is short-lived. He continues to observe his friends as they stray further and further from each other. He catches the way they glance over their shoulders in concern.

“They’re stupid, aren’t they, Minghao?” he finally says. The boy beside him hums in agreement. “Were they always like this in high school?”

“I don’t think so,” Minghao replies. “If they were, I don’t know how I managed to survive.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“Hypocrite.”

Seokmin sticks his tongue out. Then, quietly, as if the other two friends will hear, he says, “Well, they need to hurry up and talk. I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he grumbles. “Maybe if I just told Y/N about it sooner, or pushed Mingyu—”

“Probably,” Minghao interrupts before Seokmin can concoct any more what-ifs from his brain. His stomach churns at the numerous possibilities he will never see. “But there’s nothing we can do it about it now.”

“Maybe things would be better if we did things differently.”

“Yeah, but the past is the past. Besides,” he sighs, watching one friend trip on his way towards them and the other struggle to stop themselves on the board, “this isn’t our problem to fix. I don’t think it ever was. We’ll just leave it to them.”

“You really think they’ll work it out?”

“God. I really hope so. It would put all of us out of our misery.”

Spring has long since bled into winter when you find yourself at the skatepark, wearing a sweater that was never yours with your heart dangling from its sleeve. It’s chilly at this hour of the morning when the world is quiet and your denial is prominent, and it gets even colder when your name falls from Mingyu’s lips and his touch is uncharacteristically icy against your skin.

You rip your wrist from his grasp and hurt flashes across his face before he takes a step back.

“I—” he gulps, “you shouldn’t run out like that.”

He purses his lips, and you notice how chapped they’ve gotten over the past few days. Everything about him has roughened up — it goes farther than his dry hands and the unruly state of his hair; he’s grown distant. He looks at you with a mixture of emotions you can’t explain, his words have are clipped, and you aren’t sure how long this behaviour would’ve gone on for if you hadn’t caught him signing up for classes at a university he never told you he was going to attend.

“You lied to me.”

He exhales shakily. “I know. I’m sorry, I—” he rubs a hand over his face because he doesn’t know what to say. Mingyu isn’t like this. People would kill to own even a sliver of his charisma; it’s so easy for him to talk himself out of things, but the words have died in his mouth before they even reached the tip of his tongue.

“You—You should’ve told me,” you stammer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mingyu has never felt this moronic before, standing before you and stretching his hand in your direction only to watch how, every time without fail, you take a step back as if any contact from him will result in third-degree burns.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “But you were already so worried about all of us growing apart after graduation, and I didn’t want to add onto that stress. So I kept putting it off, and I shouldn’t have, I know that, I just—” his face falls, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

It takes everything in him not to flinch when your anger flares. Your resolve is rotting away to dissolve into the morning air; he thinks, offhandedly, that the molecules of your decaying calm have collided once again and found purchase over his head. A cloud to loom over him, made up of your melancholy and his guilt.

“You didn’t want to hurt me,” you say incredulously, in a tone so hurt that Mingyu’s heart drops. “Well, look where we are now, Mingyu.”

He doesn’t like the position he’s put the both of you in. He doesn’t like how this conversation is tainting every happy memory he ever had at this skatepark. He wonders if he’ll see your hurt expression every time he closes his eyes.

This could’ve been avoided, he’s aware of that. Seokmin made sure to voice his disapproval every time they crossed paths, Minghao’s veil of indifference was slowly crumbling with each passing day, and Seungkwan — who made the mistake of being around when Mingyu let it slip that his post-graduation plans didn’t match yours — grew more nervous than all of them combined.

For as long as he can remember, everyone he knows has never done well with secrets. He’s always been a firm believer that they’re parasitic, the reason behind every downfall he’s ever had the displeasure of witnessing. But that was before he had a secret worth keeping.

(It does not matter if it’s worth it or not. At the end of the day, he was right all along. They are infectious, deadly little things).

Soon after he was born, it was common belief amongst townsfolk that he would change the world. It did not matter how; they would support him regardless. He thinks his entire being may as well have been made from diamonds with how he was created to be the star of something he never asked to be part of.

It’s exhausting.

The university you two had chosen at fifteen-years-old was perfect for you. When you took the virtual tours and exchanged messages with its students, you looked like you had stepped right out of a fairy tale. But it was two hours away from this town, so far yet so close to the very thing that’s been draining him of energy, and he quickly came to realize last summer that your dream school was the last thing he wanted.

But you would’ve followed him anywhere. If it weren’t for his, Minghao, and Seokmin’s insistence, you would’ve chosen to stay at home, because you never liked the idea of leaving everything behind.

That’s where you and he differ.

And he couldn’t take that from you.

Because you and him were always believed to be cut from the same cloth — model students, the perfect fit — but everything he touched tarnished and everything you touched turned to gold dust. He’s hidden behind an illusion all his life, but he knows for a fact that you’re meant to go above and beyond every expectation that’s ever been set for you.

Who is he to get in the way of that?

(He’s sure the only thing that’s setting you back is him. It has always been him. It’s only a matter of time before you realize it, too).

“I love you,” he confesses suddenly, startling you to your core. “And I’m so sorry.”

You look at him warily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I fucked up,” he says.

“Yeah, you did.”

“But…” he trails off. When your eyes meet, something ignites inside of you.

(You have always known him better than any of them ever could).

“Mingyu—”

“Maybe it’s for the best if we—”

“Mingyu.”

He closes his eyes and hopes it’s enough to push the tears back. “I love you,” he says again, but his lips are quivering, and a sob threatens to escape the confines of his throat. “I love you so much that it physically hurt to do that to you, but it was for the better—”

Disbelief engulfs you in an instant, and you take a spontaneous step towards him in your surprise. “You’re not making a lot of sense right now,” you say, frantic, “I’m still really fucking mad at you, but we can talk this out, because I have no idea what you’re—”

“Just listen to me, Y/N, I don’t think—”

“You listen to me, because—”

“You deserve so much better than this, don’t you know that?” he snaps, shrinking into himself seconds later. His voice shakes with frustration. This hurts him beyond your imagination, but he’d do anything for you, even if it ends with him sporting wounds that will never heal. “And I’m holding you back, and I— I can’t do that to you. Not anymore.”

A sob melts into your words before you can stop it. “So you think the best way to fix that is to move across the country?”

“There were better ways to go about it,” he admits. “Ways that wouldn’t have ended like this, but I stand by what I said, Y/N.”

“Don’t do this, Mingyu. You don’t get to—” you stutter, inhaling hastily to regain your composure before looking him through your teary vision, “—you don’t get to break up with me over something as stupid as this.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he says it like a mantra, like it’s engraved into his brain and there’s no use trying to rid him of it.

“You don’t get to decide that!” you exclaim. “And even if that was true, it doesn’t matter to me. We love each other, Mingyu, isn’t that enough?”

You go to cup his face. This time, it’s he who takes a step back, and his heart screeches in pain at the sight of your crestfallen face.

“Maybe if I—” he runs a hand through his hair and tugs at the strands, forcing himself to continue, “Maybe if I loved you less, I’d let myself be selfish. But that’s not the case. That’s never been the case.”

That day you do not leave the skatepark with a scrape on your knee or a new bruise on your shins. But you don’t leave unscathed, either.

Your heart has been ripped from your chest, and Kim Mingyu carries the remnants of it with him.

Mingyu always liked people-watching.

He’d tell you it was nice to be on the other side of the microscope; to observe, not be observed. On the trips out of town, he’d sit anywhere that was bustling with people and make up stories about anyone who caught his eye: he’s cheating on his wife with his high school sweetheart, or she’s talking to her estranged cousin and she’s threatening to get a restraining order, or that little boy was meant to be a twin but he ate his sibling in the womb.

“That guy’s still in love with his ex-girlfriend even though they broke up a decade ago,” Mingyu says, subtly nodding towards a man supervising his child on the ramps.

The snort that escapes you dents the discomfort hanging in the air. “He reached out to her on Facebook, and it turns out she’s coming to visit.”

“They’re going to meet in the city. He told his wife he has work stuff.”

“His wife’s suspicious. She’s definitely hiring a PI.”

“But the PI sucks, he’s a fake and a scammer. He ends up tailing the wrong guy.”

“And the wife spent good money on him, too.”

“But she doesn’t really care since she paid the investigator using her husband’s money.”

“Good for her! It’s what he deserves for cheating.”

You smile, pressing your legs against your chest as you watch the kid soar through the park on her rollerskates. Her laughter’s loud, and you allow it to ring in your ears to momentarily distract yourself from Mingyu.

It’s overwhelming being here next to him. You’ve been here multiple times since you’ve come home, but the nostalgia and ache of watching him from afar does not compare to what you feel now that he’s by your side, sitting stiff on the park bench with his hands clasped in his lap. The dull throb in your chest becomes more prominent when he glances and catches your eye, hiding his yearning beneath a thin veil of indifference.

You turn away, and that’s enough for him to adorn the last bit of confidence he has. “Why’d you call me here?”

Resting your cheek against your knee, you murmur, “You know why I called you here.”

It does not matter that he’s known you almost as long as you’ve been alive — a room full of newborns would realize that he’s here because you want an explanation.

Closure really would be nice.

“Okay,” he breathes. “Ask me anything.”

When you slipped out of your house this morning, full of anticipation, you thought that it’d be hard for you to find the words. But you’ve stuffed the curiosity down your throat long enough. For years, all you could feel was a weight on your esophagus; the air you’ve been inhaling and expelling is nothing if not tainted with heartbreak, and you crave the feeling of fresh air again — something that’s free from the insecurities and the anguish and everything in between.

“Back then, did you tell Minghao we fought?” you ask. “Because he seems to think that we did. Every time he called me that’s all he would ask. Have you and Mingyu stopped fighting?”

He tilts his head. “Would you not say that was a fight?”

“Well, no,” you reply. “You just ended it, and I was trying to get you not to.”

Mingyu flinches but he’s quick to recover. “Nothing could’ve changed my mind back then.”

“Why?” you demand, unable to hide your despair.

Mingyu finally looks at you without tearing his gaze away. He’s exhausted, and you aren’t sure if it’s because of how early it is or if he’s just as drained from all of this as you are. The limbo between forgiveness and disdain was never made for the weak.

“Listen, I—”

“You told me you didn’t deserve me,” you say, “You don’t get to decide that.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I thought I could’ve been enough for you — I tried to be. But you always had everything planned out and I didn’t, I was living with a façade and you weren’t, and I— I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

Clenching your jaw, you say, “So, you moved.”

“I loved you,” he says quickly before you have the chance to ask him otherwise. “That was never the problem. I was scared. I guess part of me wanted to let go while you still thought I was worth it.”

“Don’t say that, Mingyu.”

“I know, I know,” he replies. “I’m working on the self-worth. It’s hard to come by.”

It hits you then, like you’re standing in the ocean as a large wave of water looms over your figure. You used to watch as everyone fawned over Mingyu as if he was untouchable, a divinity amongst men. You used to watch and lust for the days where you would turn out to be exactly the person he deserved to love.

But while Mingyu ached to be the person everyone made him out to be, you saw past your own desires and those who desired him. Through all that was carefully crafted, you saw him for who he truly was.

And you loved every inch of him. So much so that you’re convinced you’ll never be able to feel this way for anybody else.

“For what it’s worth,” you say, “back then, you were it for me. I would’ve loved you regardless.”

His gaze softens and, for a moment, sitting next to you is the same boy from all those years ago, who accepted your proposal for a date, who asked you to prom, who tattooed eight letters into your skin before slumber took you over.

“If we…” he begins carefully, “If I did things differently, do you think we could’ve made it?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’d like to think that we would’ve,” you nudge his shoulder in hopes that being playful will lighten the mood. “But none of that matters. We’re here now, and we talked.”

“We talked,” he nods. “We used to be terrible at that.”

“Not the best at communication, sure,” you smile softly. “But at least we fixed it. Better late than never.”

He bites the inside of his cheek to stop his own smile from growing any larger. “Better late than never.”

The sun envelopes you in a warm hug the moment you sit down, a companion in the serene summer’s day. Sand sticks to your skin, adhered to it by the sweat, clinging to you as if you’re its last hope to live.

The tranquility is interrupted by a screech, and you bet with closed eyes that it’s either Mingyu, who left a while back to get some ice cream and probably dropped it, or Chan, who decided to build a sandcastle close to the ocean despite the various protests he received in response.

You crack an eye open just as the water retreats from the shore. Chan stands before his unfinished monstrosity, staring in distress, while Vernon gives him a look as if to say I told you so.

From where he lies beside you, Seokmin announces, “If it makes you feel any better, it was a little ugly.”

“You said five minutes ago that it was good!”

“I was lying to you.”

“Yeah,” Seungkwan agrees, toeing the area where the castle once resided. “The moat was fucked up, too.”

“It was a moat.”

“And yet you fucked it up.”

Chan gives them an unsavoury gesture before instructing both Vernon and Seungkwan to help him make another. Reluctant but compliant, they take the pails you’d bought last minute at the dollar store and settle themselves farther away from the shore.

Seokmin salutes them for good luck before glancing at his phone. “Is Mingyu still at the boardwalk?"

Minghao hums. “Yeah, the line for ice cream’s probably long.”

“Okay, good,” Seokmin says before poking your shoulder aggressively, ignoring your complaints about how easily you bruise. “Gives me time to interrogate you.”

“Interrogate me?” you ask incredulously. “About what?”

He raises his hand, and you prepare yourself for the worst. It’s over for you the moment Seokmin begins listing things off his fingers. “You willingly sat in the backseat with Mingyu on the way here, you willingly talked to him for the entire car ride, and you willingly offered to go with him to get ice cream.”

“Hardly things to interrogate me over.”

“Hardly things to interrogate me over,” he mimics. “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you guys dating again?”

“What?”

“Ah. Have you two eloped?”

Minghao snorts as he opens the cap to his sunscreen. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re just engaged.”

Seokmin places a hand on his chest. “Oh, thank goodness—”

“Are you guys insane?” you shriek, briefly scanning the beach in hopes nobody heard your friends’ remarks. “We just talked yesterday.”

“Oh,” Minghao muses, throwing the sunscreen over your head for Seokmin to catch. “And that’s it?”

“That’s it,” you confirm. “What else would there be?”

Minghao shrugs as he rubs the cream onto his arms. “Nothing, I guess.”

A noise escapes Seokmin’s throat, something akin to disagreement. You whip your head to face him as he raises his hands up in defence. “What is it?” you ask him.

“I just…” he waves his hand in the air with a small pout on his lips. “I’m confused, I guess. Everything’s resolved now? Just like that? We’re all friends again?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re friends,” you huff. “I don’t know what we are, either. But we have the rest of the summer to figure that out, so why the rush?”

Seokmin leans back on his elbows. “Well, whatever the two of you are, I’m glad you two talked, it was long overdue.”

Minghao nods in agreement.

From a few feet away, Seungkwan’s voice is loud amongst the waves crashing onto shore, the families relaxing under beach umbrellas, and the seagulls soaring through the sky. “Mingyu!” he exclaims in disbelief. “You didn’t drop any!”

You can’t catch a good glimpse of him without craning your neck, but his voice alone is enough to quicken your heartbeat. “Yeah, I know,” you hear him say, “I told you guys I’m not completely hopeless. Seven Drumsticks, all in perfect condition. Vernon, did you want the original flavour?”

It only takes a couple moments before he’s in your line of sight, standing in front of you with the sun’s blinding rays crowning his head like a halo. He grins, letting his sunglasses slip down his nose so you can see his eyes, and hands you a cone.

“Thanks,” you say.

His grin widens, just a little. “Don’t mention it. Hao, which one do you want?”

Once everyone’s finished their ice cream (and after a long debate that occurred due to Chan innocently asking for advice on what to do about his roommates back at his on-campus apartment), Seungkwan manages to find a beach volleyball court that’s unoccupied and persuades everyone to participate.

One set to ten points turns into the best out of three, and when your team begins to buckle under the pressure, Seungkwan suggests something with a sinister grin. “Losing team has to get buried under the sand and stay there for fifteen minutes.”

“Ten,” Seokmin negotiates.

“Twelve.”

“Five.”

Seungkwan squints. “You can’t go lower, that’s not how a negotiation works.”

“One person from the losing team gets buried under the sand for ten minutes and has to pay for dinner,” Chan says.

Seungkwan snaps his fingers before pointing to him. “Deal.”

It all ends, as expected, with Seungkwan’s team victorious. The three boys on the other side of the net exchange high-fives before returning to you and your sullen teammates with cocky grins. Minghao urges all of you to play a game of rock, paper, scissors to decide the true loser of today, and though you feigned indifference when you fumbled the last ball, the mask speedily cracks when the last two people left is you and Mingyu.

(“A duel between lovers,” Chan sighs dramatically. Minghao pinches his side).

Your eyes meet his, and something flickers in his expression. Gone too quick for you to decipher, but something in the back of your mind tells you that you should know exactly what he’s about to do.

Seokmin booms, “Rock, paper, scissors!”

You ball your hand into a fist and Mingyu curls his fingers into his palm except for two.

“Scissors beats rock,” Vernon slaps him on the back sympathetically before pointing at the ground. “Get comfortable, dude.”

With the amount of eagerness your friends exhibit, Mingyu is buried in minutes, stiff under the copious warm dust he’s under. Seokmin, with sand sticking to his hands, ruffles Mingyu’s hair and laughs when the latter crinkles his nose in disgust. Taking his sunglasses from his bag, you place them on the bridge of nose and brush off anything that got on his face.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Don’t mention it,” you echo. “I’m sure you’ll have fun here.”

He kisses his teeth in annoyance. “Oh, I bet. Once I get out of here, I’m gonna have tan lines on my collarbone.”

You smile. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I can stay here with you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“You’re here for ten minutes by yourself and the reason we lost is because of me,” you say, wincing at the memory of Seokmin and Chan shouting for you to retrieve the ball despite it being too far away for you to save. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs. “Since I let you win rock, paper, scissors.”

You blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

“You always choose rock.”

“What? Then why’d you choose scissors?”

Mingyu attempts to shrug and scowls when he can’t.

You flick his forehead. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I wanted to.”

“Of course,” you snicker. “And how are you finding it underneath all that sand?”

He doesn’t even bother to pretend to be nonchalant. “Oh, it’s the worst. It’s slightly better with you here, though.”

You turn to look at the sea. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he pouts. “I thought we were going to tell each other stuff from now on. You know, communicate better.”

“Well, still.”

“I’m just saying what I’m thinking!”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He laughs, loud and boisterous and it heals something in your very being. There’s a mirth in his eyes you haven’t seen in a long time, and you yearn to hear it again. Mingyu has always been beautiful, but he’s even more so when he’s happy, a boy so golden he could rival the sun and the stars in its beauty.

And he would win, you think.

(What you don’t know is that Mingyu thinks the same of you. Many things have changed, but one thing that never will is how much you shine. The sky and all its confidants, try as they might, would never rid you of your luster. To him, they’ll never prevail).

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question.

He smiles. “No reason.”

Considering the fact that you spent a good part of your childhood running around the mall and giving into the urge of buying things you’ll never need, it’s a surprise that you forgot just how busy it gets during the summer.

(“Wow,” Mingyu had said. “You avoid me and this town for three years and suddenly you forget everything about it?”)

(He, along with everyone you’ve grown up with, will never let you live this down).

It’s a miracle the four of you even found somewhere to sit in the food court — a booth, no less. Part of you wonders if Seokmin sweet-talked a family into giving up this table for him, and you feel only a sliver of pity for whoever has to eat in an area that’s affected by the vibrant rays of the sun.

Once Minghao and Seokmin have returned from buying their food, they send you and Mingyu off to get your lunch with the promise that they’ll wait for you both before they start eating. Mingyu walks ahead, careful not to trip over anyone as he observes the signs of each food joint you pass, and glances over his shoulder to make sure you haven’t gotten lost in the crowd amid his indecision.

“What are you getting?” he asks once the two of you can hear each other above the many mallgoers.

“Don’t know. Pad Thai, maybe.”

“Nice. I was thinking getting a burger at Burger King, but…” he gestures towards the long line and winces. “I don’t have the patience for that.”

“So?”

“So, what?”

“What are you going to eat then?”

“Oh,” Mingyu frowns before shrugging nonchalantly. “Pad Thai it is, then. I think that has the shortest line.”

“Really? When we passed by KFC it didn’t look too bad—”

Mingyu turns, pointing to the Thai place across from you. “Pad Thai! Let’s go before the line gets any longer,” he proclaims, wrapping a hand around your elbow and gently tugging you towards the smell of stir-fry.

It’s easy to fall back into rhythm with Mingyu — so much so that it scares you, just a little. While you assumed it wouldn’t have been too weird once the barrier of the old relationship was removed, you hadn’t thought it would’ve been this comfortable. You assumed everything would be stilted for a short period before the puzzle pieces returned to their places, but this was unpredictable. This is familiar (everything with Mingyu always is); more familiar than riding a bike, or the scar on your knee, or your mom’s tendency to hover over you now that you’ve returned.

His skin against yours all while offering to lend you his jacket and pay for your food could be seen as simple acts of friendship — and if it were anybody else, you would agree, but your ties with each other, since the beginning of time, have regularly toed the line of romantic. It is a fact you cannot deny, and trying to do so would be like saying the sky is green or oxygen isn’t a requirement for survival.

The void in your chest used to be in the shape of him — freshly eighteen and brought down by his expectations along with everybody else’s — and you have tried other remedies to heal it: avoidance, sinking into other people’s sheets, tossing every physical memory you have of him in a box that you never ended up donating.

Who knew that the void would be filled by the same boy who caused it? Only this time, he’s standing in front of you, a little taller, sporting a different haircut, and learning how to live on his own terms.

“Fuck,” he says as he digs through his wallet. “I think I don’t have any cash to pay with. Man, I really didn’t want to use my credit card today.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I’ll pay. You already gave me your jacket even though I said you didn’t have to.”

“You were cold,” he argues. “If you didn’t want me to give it to you, then maybe don’t get cold next time.”

You scoff. “Well, tell whoever’s managing the A/C to turn it down. It’s like stepping into a freezer in here.”

Mingyu mutters — something along the lines of so dramatic — before he shifts the position of his open wallet in his hands and continues digging for bills that aren’t there. What is there, however, is a photo all too familiar.

You place a hand on his wrist to stop him from moving. “Hey, is that a picture of me?”

Mingyu freezes. Then, he pulls away from your grip. “No.”

“Okay. Then who was it?”

You stare at each other for a beat too long, interrupted by someone asking if you can move up the line, and it’s only then that Mingyu turns away, bashful, and murmuring, “Okay, fine. It’s you.”

You try not to let the giddiness get to you. “And why, exactly, do you have a picture of me in there?”

“It’s not just you,” he lies. “Minghao and Seokmin are also in there.”

“No, I don’t think so,” you reply matter-of-factly. “I got a good glimpse, and I think it was just me.”

He tuts. “Believe what you want to believe.”

“I’m choosing to believe the truth.”

He sulks, taking another step towards the register. “You’re finding this too funny for my liking.”

“I’m not! I think it’s cute,” you object. “Why is it in there in the first place?”

“Maybe I just wanted to put it in there, it’s a good photo!”

“Of course.”

“You’re photogenic,” he adds. “Besides, what’s wrong with keeping a photo of my friend in my wallet?”

The question escapes you before you can think twice. “Is that what we are?”

Mingyu quietens, uncertain. Then, after rapidly fighting an internal battle, he says, “Before everything else, you’re my best friend.”

You nod because that’s the case for you, too. “But?”

His digs his teeth into his bottom lip before he opens his mouth, the answer on the tip of his tongue.

“I—”

“Next, please!”

Mingyu flinches, but it only takes a glance at the long line behind him before he’s grabbing his credit card. “C’mon,” he interlocks his pinky with yours. “Order what you want, it’s on me.”

“Mingyu—”

He gives you a smile. “It’s fine,” he assures quietly. “I want to.”

(In his wallet is a candid polaroid — a person on the beach, laughing at a joke made by someone who hasn’t been photographed. The picture has no crinkles, either because it’s deeply cherished or because it’s new — maybe both is the case.

It replaces an older photo, one that’s years old, taken while he was in high school of the same person. Still candid, still radiant, still laughing. He’s treasured it for years, but he decides it’s time to relocate it. Maybe when he gets back to his apartment, he’ll put it on his fridge. It was looking a little empty, anyway).

Mingyu doesn’t particularly like it here. It brings up old feelings he’s working to retire as well as a medley of insecurities and unease.

But he would be lying if he said that the bad was the only thing this town has to offer.

The skatepark brings comfort, a corner of the world where freedom comes from touching the sky in the seconds his board lifts from the ground, a playground of cement and ramps and splintered benches found under trees that have been alive far longer than he has. It comes from his friends’ homes; Seungkwan’s spacious backyard and Seokmin’s living room where drink rings litter the coffee table as a consequence of never using the coasters.

It comes from the people. It comes from his family, who hugs him tight and listens to every concern he has under the sun. It comes from his friends, a group of rambunctious people who he has too many inside jokes with, and who drag him into shenanigans he has no option of backing out of.

It comes from you. Comfort always comes from you.

From where he stands in the corner, he watches you scour the karaoke song book, protesting all of Chan’s suggestions before entering a number onto the TV. Then you squint at the lyrics on the screen before you begin singing.

The others in the living room are in awe, captivated despite your inability to hold a note. Your gleeful smile makes up for what you lack in the singing department, and Mingyu supposes he’s no different than everybody else when you meet his eyes in the crowd and his palms begin to sweat. You hold his gaze for far too long, causing you to lose your spot in the song, and you sheepishly turn away before trying to make up for your mistakes.

He stays until the end, the loudest to clap despite your score being nothing exciting (it’s exciting to him, and that’s all that matters), and raises his hand in greeting with a silent promise to see you later when you’re pulled into a conversation with someone you used to play badminton with.

He ducks into the kitchen before he’s forced to engage in more small talk with another person. His footsteps quicken along with his growing desire to grab another beer, hidden behind the soda cans Seungkwan shoved inside for the party.

(Mingyu doesn’t entirely know what or who this party is for. He only recalls the texts between him and Minghao three days prior:

hao 👨‍🎨 > party at seungkwan’s on saturday

mingyu > not coming

hao 👨‍🎨 > 😐 ok ur loss > y/n is tho

mingyu > … i’ll bring my mom’s brownies).

Mingyu opens the can the moment it’s in his hands, relishing in the temporary sound of fizzing before taking a sip. The only straggler in the kitchen is him; everyone gathered in the living room the moment Seungkwan turned the karaoke machine on. He situates himself so he can see just through the threshold, keeping an eye out for the moment you’re free so he can pull you aside to talk.

About what, he doesn’t know. Winging it has always been his thing.

“Yo, Mingyu,” Seokmin greets as he makes his way to the fridge. “What are you doing in here?”

“Hiding.”

“It’s nice to know some things haven’t changed,” Seokmin quips, digging through the variety of drinks, “you’re still a loser.”

“You love me.”

“Oh, of course, that was never in question. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re a loser.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Sprite for me, beer for Vernon.” He stands to his full height and cranes his neck to look at Mingyu around the fridge door. “Was that the last of it?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Seokmin doesn’t look that defeated when he grabs two cans of Sprite. “Maybe that’s for the best. He’s drunk enough as it is.” Off Mingyu’s confusion, Seokmin adds, “I know, he never gets wasted, but he’s on the waitlist for a screenwriting class, so he’s upset beyond repair.”

“And he’s always saying everyone else is more dramatic than he is.”

“Right? He’s only second on the waitlist, too.”

Mingyu laughs but his eyes involuntarily flicker back to the door to see if you’re still talking to other people. He frowns when he notices you’ve disappeared from where he spotted you last, and he debates taking out his phone and texting you to ask where you are.

Seokmin kisses his teeth. “Are you sure you want to stay in here by yourself? Y/N probably wants to talk to you.”

“They’re talking to other people. I’m fine waiting it out.”

Seokmin looks like he’s going to oppose Mingyu’s decisions, but he opts for shrugging instead. “Alright, if you say so. Don’t wait too long, though.”

“I won’t,” Mingyu promises. Seokmin begins his trek back to the living room, one soda dangling from each hand, when Mingyu suddenly calls out, “Hey, wait.”

Seokmin falters awkwardly in his step before turning around with furrowed eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“I, uh,” Mingyu rubs his neck, wincing. “I don’t think I ever apologized.”

The confusion on Seokmin’s face is wiped away to be replaced with triumph. He points an accusatory finger at his friend while his voice echoes in the four walls of the Boo kitchen. “I knew it! You did steal my beanie, you liar, the next time I visit you, I’m taking it back, and it better be in good condition! I can’t believe you took it with you across the country, that’s so fucked up—”

“Huh? No, what?” Mingyu says in disbelief. “For the last time, I didn’t steal your beanie—”

“Okay, sure, then who was it, then?”

“I don’t know!”

“Then what are you apologizing for?”

“For not listening to you!” Mingyu exclaims. “Back then, you told me to tell Y/N the truth and I didn’t listen when I should have. If I did, you and Hao wouldn’t have been put in the middle of everything.”

“Oh,” Seokmin makes a face and waves him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“You made a mistake. A stupid one, yeah, and I’m probably never going to let you live it down, but,” he smiles gently, “we’re okay now. Just focus on what you’ll do about… you know.”

“…What?”

“You know,” Seokmin parrots. “Y/N. I mean, you still love them, don’t you?”

Without hesitation, Mingyu responds, “Well, no fucking shit.”

Seokmin makes a noise of satisfaction before turning on his heel. Over his shoulder, he singsongs, “Don’t fuck anything up!”

Mingyu scoffs. “I won’t!”

With each passing minute, the night gets livelier, and Mingyu ends up re-entering the living room and talking to other people despite his internal insistence not to. It keeps him busy, momentarily distracting him from the way his heartrate spikes at the thought of speaking to you tonight.

In the middle of his conversation with a former basketball teammate, a microphone ends up in his hands, and before he can blink, he’s pushed in front of the TV. It takes him a moment too long before he realizes that he’s been forced to sing a duet with you.

(Behind the couch, Minghao snorts at Seokmin’s devilish grin.

“I thought I told you to stay out of it.”

“I am!” Seokmin says, “I’m only giving them a slight push in the right direction!”)

The timer begins counting down.

Five.

“Just so you know,” you begin, “Seungkwan and Chan are going after us. We have to score as high as possible.”

Four.

“I don’t think we can manage that, to be honest.”

Three.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re great at singing, so you can make up for how bad I am.”

Two.

“I don’t—”

One.

“Believe in yourself, Mingyu.”

You bring the microphone up to your lips and begin to sing, and he can only follow your movements.

It takes an unfathomable amount of willpower to stop himself from staring at you for the song’s entirety. He clenches his fist as he recites the lyrics, but when it gets to the bridge and it’s your turn to take the reins, Mingyu lets his guard down, his hand falling limply to his side as you laugh through your part.

He has never been an expert in love — few of the decisions he’s made in the name of it have seldom ended well — and when he was younger, the only thing he ever knew regarding it was you. Before, he thought that wouldn’t have been enough, that in order to be the person you deserved, he had to know more.

However, he’s older now, and things change with time.

You glance at him and the butterfly in his stomach rapidly flaps its wings.

(Other things don’t).

He doesn’t even know the song’s ended until arms wrap around his neck. He stumbles backwards before he forces himself to find his footing so he can properly return your excited hug. Mingyu pays no mind to the score flashing onscreen, nor the claps coming from everyone else; all he can smell is your shampoo, he feels your breath on his skin, and that is much more important than a karaoke score ever will be.

Seungkwan says, “That’s not even a good score.”

You loosen your grip around Mingyu so you can look at Seungkwan, and he immediately yearns for more. “Be quiet, this is the best I’ve gotten all night,” you retort. You turn to face Mingyu again, shaking him by the shoulders. “We did good! I told you to believe in yourself!”

Before he can reply, you’re pulled apart by Chan, who’s itching to take his turn. He rips the mics from his and your hands, and you slip from Mingyu’s fingers once again when Vernon asks you if you can help him look for another can of beer.

He exhales in defeat, accepts Chan shooing him away with grace, and slips outside.

He leans over the porch railing, staring at the watercolour sky, a mixture of pink and orange and yellow.

Mingyu hangs his head, wondering just how many more times you’ll get whisked away before he even has a chance to utter a word. He prefers smaller gatherings, because at least then he’d be able to talk to you with ease.

He’s not quite sure how many more times he’ll be able to stand by and watch you go before he loses his mind.

Behind him, the door slides open, and he assumes it’s Seokmin telling him to get a move on. But the footsteps sound different than his friend’s, and he immediately perks up when a familiar scent reaches his nose.

“Hey.”

Your frame enters his periphery, your university jacket hanging on your shoulders with the sleeves covering your hands.

Mingyu straightens. “Hi.”

You settle beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and Mingyu immediately relaxes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, “what makes you think I’m not?”

“You’ve been hiding from everyone since the night began,” you answer. “You don’t wanna be here, huh?”

“Of course I want to be here.” You raise an eyebrow at his lie. “Okay, fine, I don’t really want to be here.”

“Then why’d you come?”

“…I thought it would’ve been fun.”

“Really?” you snort. “Do you even know what this party is for?”

“Well… no.”

He expects you to roll your eyes, but instead you sigh in relief. “Okay, that makes me feel better, because I don’t either.”

“Well, I only came because Minghao told me you’d be coming,” he confesses.

You tilt your head in confusion. “I only came because Seokmin told me you’d be coming.”

He furrows his eyebrows and spares a glance through the glass doors at his friends. “…Huh.”

You huff, following his gaze. “I swear they always have their nose in our business.”

Mingyu looks back at you. “You have to admit, though, they’re pretty good at luring us into parties we don’t want to attend,” he smirks good-naturedly. “Who knew you still had a soft spot for me?”

Turning away from him, flustered, you grumble, “Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t come here because you wanted to see me.”

“I’m not!” he proclaims. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I make it pretty obvious that I like seeing you.”

“You’re so cheesy.”

“Only for you.”

You lightly punch his arm when the laughs that escape his lips grow louder. “I thought I told you that you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he hums. “I mean what I say, Y/N.”

“I’m not saying you don’t, it’s just…” you place your arms on the railing, leaning forward to avoid eye contact, “It’s confusing, that’s all.”

Mingyu faces you while you face away, watches how you stare at the setting sun instead of him, and his heart clenches. When you went your separate ways, he craved to be near you again, but even next to him, you still feel so far away.

(In hindsight, maybe he should’ve planned out how to go about this beforehand).

“You used to say stuff like that all the time,” you explain. “You know, before, uh—”

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

A million scenarios flash through his mind; different results depending on what he says next. He��s typically so good at saying the right thing — his words got him out of trouble and charmed his neighbours — but he’s found that his voice fails him whenever he needs it the most. When he tried to muster the courage to tell you about everything, he was never able to, and he gave into the false reassurances his mind offered that all would be alright in the end.

But none of that matters, you had said. We’re here now.

“You know what I never understood?” you ask.

“What?”

“You don’t like it here. Not a lot, anyway,” you start, “so why did you keep coming back?”

“Well, my family’s here, you know. So are our friends,” he gulps. “And I thought you would be, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He nudges your elbow. “Can I ask you something?”

You chance a glance at him. “Sure, yeah.”

“What you said the other day,” he murmurs, unblinking, “about how I would’ve been it for you, has that changed?”

“Why are you asking?”

He bites the inside of his cheek as his cheeks begin to redden. “Do you really need me to say it?”

You frown. “Say what—?”

“I love you,” he blurts out. “And I know that might be kind of weird, since a lot’s changed since we last saw each other, but that’s the one thing I haven’t been able to shake. Not that— not that I ever wanted to— I just… I think it’s a part of me. Like I was born with it.”

You look at him, eyes glassy, unable to speak.

“But y’know what’s weirder?” he adds. “I’m pretty sure I’ll never get sick of it.”

It’s his turn to face away, turning towards the sun as you stare at the side of his face. The silence drenches the backyard like sudden, thunderous rainfall. For him, it’s unwelcome, and his eardrums echo with his confession.

He tries his best to hide his lovesickness, but the intensity of his longing prevents him from doing so. For the entire summer — perhaps for years, really — he’s been pushing it all down. He’s tired of it all. Of hiding, of pretending, of brushing off his esurient desire for you.

“It’s not weird,” you say, finally, saving him from his misery.

“Sorry?”

“You said it’s weird that you still love me,” you muse. “But I don’t think it is. It wouldn’t be fair of me to.”

His lips part. “What do you—?”

“Of course you’re it for me, Mingyu,” you tell him frustratedly. “You have been since the beginning of time. I don’t want you to go a day without believing it. I know what it’s like to live with you and to live without you, and I really prefer the first option.”

Mingyu’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits.

With quick movements, he inches closer to you, eyes flickering down to your lips before he asks, “Really?”

“What do you mean, really? Why would I—?”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupts, slowly moving his hands closer to your face. “Please?”

He’s sure the longing in your eyes is wild enough to rival his.

(What an odd turn of events, is it not? Despite being on opposite sides of the country, you used to believe there weren’t enough miles between you and Mingyu for you to heal properly. But now, with his lips hovering over yours, you’re beginning to think that he is not close enough).

You take his face into your hands, and you kiss him.

Mingyu stumbles, surprised by your fervor, but matches it with ease. His hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he moves to have his back against the railing. Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he surprises himself with a moan at just how much he’s missed it — your hands pulling at his locks, his lips against yours.

He used to pray for this.

When you pull away to catch your breath, he chases you, too dazed to acknowledge your amused mien. You go to peck his lips to soothe him, but he makes sure to hold you against him, his hunger far from satiated.

He stops himself for a moment, breath hot on your skin. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

You smile against his mouth. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all night.”

“I feel like you’ve been faking it.”

“I have not.”

“You definitely have. Skateboarding isn’t that hard.”

Mingyu throws his arm around you in defence. “Hey, give them a break, Minghao.”

“Yeah!” Seokmin pipes up, “Y/N was just terrible at it because they can’t balance at all.”

“You know,” you grunt, crossing your arms, “I thought you guys would be proud of me for finally managing to skate across the park without actually falling.”

“I’m proud of you,” Mingyu says, pecking the side of your head. “And I think that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, I can always count on you having my back,” you say, leaning further into him and pointedly glaring at the other two boys in front of you.

Seokmin waves you off. “Hey, I think this might be the first time ever you didn’t get injured at the skatepark.”

You go to protest before frowning. “…I think you’re right, actually. That’s so weird.”

Minghao snorts. “Maybe we should teach you some tricks then.”

You glance at Mingyu, and he seems to really be considering it. “Oh, absolutely not. Are you trying to kill me?”

“I’ll teach you the easy ones!” Mingyu begins, standing in front of you so he’s all you see. He places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes them in reassurance. “You’re already a pro at just skating around, so this should be a piece of cake!”

“Mingyu,” you whine.

“Please,” he matches your tone. “I like teaching you stuff! It’ll be fun!” he lets go of your shoulders and rolls the board so it’s by your feet and offers you his hand as if you’ll need help getting on. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Your wariness is squashed the moment he flashes you a soothing smile.

You sigh. “You promise?”

He crosses his heart. “With everything that I have.”

Without a second thought, you place your hand in his.

He squeezes it immediately in a silent vow:

I’ll be here to catch you if you fall.

1K notes · View notes

everscorner · 24 days

Text

My Brother's Best Friend

Author’s note: The plan was to hold on to this one until the summer, but here I am posting it. It’s a slowburn, and there will be two parts. For those of you who want to visualise the villa, it was inspired by this one. This is only for fictional purposes only, and please don’t copy my work without my permission. Enjoy 🤎

Warnings: bad language, slow burn, not smutty but suggestive, brother’s best friend!Mason Mount, age gap but nothing significant, alcohol, fluff (???), frustrating Mason Mount, sort of love triangle (let me know if I missed anything).

university student!Reader x brother’s best friend!Mason Mount

Word count: 10k words

☀️☀️☀️

July 4, 2022

You don’t fancy yourself a negative person. Painfully shy maybe, even so, you’re not negative. But as you lay face up on your bed, you dread the day ahead of you. You contemplate missing breakfast, but that would make you rude. People can accept shyness, but no one likes a rude person.

What have I gotten myself into, you think.

And with a heavy sigh, you blindly reach for your phone, and find it tucked beneath the pillow beside you.

The time reads nine o’clock, on the dot, but you’ve been awake almost an hour now. Timewise, you’re cutting it fine, but maybe if you pretend that you forgot you had to meet your group for breakfast, maybe feign illness…

You scoff at the thought. You’re not negative, you’re painfully shy, and you’re a bad liar.

One look at you and your brother will catch you in your lie. But maybe if you explain the situation to him, he might understand. Or maybe he won’t understand, after all, he didn’t pay to fly you to Majorca only for you to spend the day locked up in your room.

It’s his fault anyway, you think as you toss your phone back onto the bed.

If only you had turned down the offer. More dread, this time mixed with regret. And now the question stands: if you’re so miserable at the thought of going upstairs to breakfast, why did you agree to come in the first place?

Well, that’s easy—Eleanor, your brother’s girlfriend. She had brought up the trip at lunch nearly a month ago, and pitched it so well, you couldn’t turn her down.

☀️☀️☀️

Sometime in June, 2022

“Do you have plans for the summer?”

The simple answer to her question was ‘no.’ There were plans, but none definite.

“I’m not sure, why?”

“B/N and I are heading to Majorca next month, and we thought it’d be fun if you joined us.”

Majorca, you had never been but had seen pictures. It was a beautiful island on your bucket list of places to visit.

“When do you leave?”

“July third.”

That wasn’t enough time to get your finances in order. And you could’ve asked your mum and dad for money, but you felt bad as they were already paying so much for your tuition.

“I can’t come.”

“Why not?”

“I’m broke.”

“Who said you’re paying?”

Your brow slowly raised, signalling for her to elaborate.

“You won’t have to worry about covering the bill, B/N’s got you.”

Back in February, your older brother had started working for a new company, and from what you had heard from your parents, he was earning quite well.

“Does he know that he’s covering my bill?”

Eleanor laughed, and assured you that he did. “It was his idea to invite you. So, should we book you a ticket?”

You contemplated the offer.

“Come on, think of the beaches… the warm sun… the men!”

She had you till the last bit. “I think I’ll pass on the men.”

She beamed.

“But the beaches and sun sound tempting, I can’t lie.”

“And you get to spend the summer with me and your favourite brother. All expenses paid.”

“And you're sure B/N agreed to this?”

She nodded and repeated what she had said earlier, that it was his idea. “And did I mention that you are his favourite sister?”

“Eleanor, I’m his only sister.”

She chuckled. “So what do you say?”

☀️☀️☀️

From that point forward, any other plans you had were indefinitely placed on hold. You would spend the summer with your brother and his girlfriend, and that was final.

A week from the trip, your mother was generous enough to take you shopping for a new summer wardrobe. ‘Just a treat,’ she had expressed over the phone. And your father? Well, he sent money. ‘Just a treat.’

And then you were sitting in the back of a black Mercedes Sprinter, being driven to a villa with your brother and his girlfriend. It was late, and you were tired, but you were excited to be in Majorca. And that made you chatty, which was apparently uncharacteristic of you.

“I can’t remember the last time I heard you talk this much,” your brother teased.

You lightly shoved his shoulder. “Stop.”

He laughed, “I didn’t say that was a bad thing.”

Eleanor slung her arm over your shoulder and pulled you in for a side embrace, “I’m just glad you came. We’ll have so much fun together.”

“Just a warning, little sis,” B/N chimed in, “Eleanor went a little crazy with the itinerary.”

“That’s not true.”

He held his hands up defensively, knowing better than to try to start an argument with his girlfriend. He was sure to lose. Instead, he dug his phone out of his pocket and began texting someone.

Eleanor was rattling on about the items on the itinerary when your brother announced, “It seems our party has arrived at the villa.”

Party? What party? You whipped your head towards your brother, “‘Our party?’ What does that mean?”

“Our friends.”

Friends? Up until that point, no mentions of friends had been made, so you were confused. You turned to Eleanor, “Which friends?”

“Oh, James, Edward, Maya, and her friend Jordan. She’s American.”

“And Mason.”

You whipped back to your brother—man, you were going to get whiplash. “College Mason?”

“No. Mason Mount, he’s a good friend.”

You had never met Mason Mount before, but you had heard your brother mention him a couple of times in passing. He was a footballer your brother had befriended at a party in Ibiza after he had saved him from a group of rowdy football fans who wanted a picture with him.

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed now,” he chuckled.

Not disappointed, confused. Why hadn’t anyone mentioned that part to you?

As if she could sense your panic, Eleanor lightly squeezed your shoulder and assured you that it would be fine. “They’re good people, don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”

☀️☀️☀️

Eleanor was right, they were good people and it was fun, just not your kind of fun. You walked into the villa and were greeted by James, your brother’s best friend from uni, and Edward, his boyfriend. The two of them were standing in the middle of the darkly hued modern kitchen, preparing vodka tonics for everyone, and they were quite pleased to see you.

“And you brought Y/N! Hello, love!”

You smiled. James was tipsy, you knew that because his face was flushed, his voice just a bit too loud. “Hello, James.”

He pulled you in for a hug. “It’s so lovely to see you again. Vodka tonic?”

You hugged him back, “Yes, please.”

“Already on it!” called Edward from his spot at the large kitchen island.

“You’ve grown since the last time I saw you,” James said as he released you from the tight embrace. “How’s the first year of uni? Or would you rather not talk about it?”

“Uni’s been good.” And because you thought the answer was too curt, you added, “Challenging, but good. I like it there.”

Edward appeared, bright smile and vodka tonic in hand. He handed it to you, and told you, “Let me know what you think.”

You thanked him, and raised the tumbler to your lips to take a small sip, but it was too tiny to taste anything. So you lied, “It’s good.”

And he seemed pleased.

James was telling you about their flight over to the island when he was cut off by the commotion behind you, a group of people coming up the stairs.

You turned around to see Maya and her friend Jordan, the American, and a guy you assumed was Mason Mount, come into the kitchen. More greetings, more volume, and more happy people. Maya was first to greet you, and then Jordan, and then Mason.

The other two walked over to the island to grab their drinks, but Mason stayed behind to make conversation.

“I’m Mason.”

“Y/N.” You felt your cheeks heat up under his cheeky gaze. What your brother had forgotten to mention in the car was just how cute Mason was. “Pleased to meet you, Mason.”

His smile widened, “Likewise. What are you drinking?”

“Uh…” your mind froze for just a split second. Of all the times your brain chose to act up, it had to be in front of the cute older guy. “A vodka tonic. Made by Edward.”

“Is it any good?”

You took a second, more generous swig from the tumbler, and grimaced at the taste. It wasn’t that it tasted bad, but there was far too much alcohol in your drink. “A little heavy handed on the vodka.”

He laughed. “Then I think I’ll like it.”

And then he walked away and you released a quiet wistful sigh. You had a crush, oh God. How would you survive the summer?

Edward took you to your room, and gave a mini tour of your floor. Your room was sandwiched between Maya and Jordan’s rooms. Inside, the walls were white, and mostly bare, with just a single picture hung up above your bed’s headboard.

There was a wardrobe to store your clothes; a sleek and elegant bathroom with a shower, a toilet, and a sink; a tiny desk tucked into the corner of the room; and a wide glass sliding door that led out onto a balcony that overlooked the rest of the neighbourhood. Also, the balcony was shared between the three rooms.

You placed your bag on the bench that sat at the foot of the bed, connected your phone to the WiFi, and made your way back to the main area, where a welcome party had commenced.

You spent the hour that followed observing your fellow villa mates. Some were drunk, most were tipsy, and you were way past the point of exhaustion, but you held on, not wanting to earn the label of ‘party pooper,’ and it was a struggle.

The group was divided in two. Your brother was out on the covered patio, animatedly telling a story to James and Edward, his arm possessively hooked around Eleanor’s waist. She wore a smile on her face, invested in whatever it was he was saying—you weren’t exactly paying attention—so smitten with her boyfriend. That’s the group you chose to hang around.

Inside, just a few feet away, Jordan and Mason were sitting next to each other on the sectional, and they looked rather cosy which made you speculate on the nature of their relationship.

They seemed comfortable in each other’s presence, Mason leaning into her as she showed him something on her phone, his hand resting on her knee, and it looked to be inching higher with each passing minute.

If only I was brave enough, you thought as you took in the scene before you.

But you felt you didn’t stand a chance. Not only was Mason friends with your older brother, which was bound to be an issue, a violation of some bro code, but guys like Mason didn’t go for girls like you.

It’s the simple fact of life, but it didn’t stop it from hurting any less.

You polished off the remainder of your vodka tonic, the once icy drink now at room temperature, and placed the glass on the table in front of you.

Moments later, you felt your phone vibrate in your hand. Claire. A text:

Claire 🐻: Yayyy!

Claire 🐻: I cant believe youre in majorca and i’m stuck at my grannys cottage :/

Claire 🐻: I’m jealous

She was responding to the text you’d sent her earlier. You were letting her know that you had arrived at your destination.

You: Kinda wish I’d joined you instead

Heading to the countryside with Claire was one of the ‘not definite’ summer plans.

Claire 🐻: Its not too late to change your mind…

You chuckled at her response.

Claire 🐻: Up for a late night call?

As far as you were concerned, there was no use in hanging around, but you didn’t want to make a fuss by announcing your departure. Instead, you excused yourself under the guise of someone who would return, and made a slick escape to your room.

You locked the door and launched yourself onto the bed with an audible huff.

☀️☀️☀️

You passed out after two o’clock, which meant you had a little under six hours of sleep, but you don’t feel tired. And now it’s morning, and it’s breakfast, and you can’t cook up an excuse to remain locked in your room.

There’s ten minutes till breakfast, and you don’t like being late, so you drag your feet to the bathroom and do your best to freshen up, but there’s just not enough time, and you still have to change into something breakfast appropriate.

Suffice to say, you’re the last one to arrive, and all eyes are on you as you walk into the kitchen/dining area. There’s a spread of food laid out on the table, and a bunch of hungover grown ups convened around it.

“You made it. I almost came down to get you.”

That’s Eleanor, and you’re grateful she didn’t come down. You tell a little white lie, that you had missed the alarm, and take your place at the table next to Maya, who looks like hell, the result of too many vodka tonics last night.

Across the table from you is Mason, who looks worse than Maya does. He looks to be in actual physical pain.

“Are you alright?” you question.

He shakes his head and looks like he might throw up right there on the table. It’s only then that you realise that Jordan is not here.

You turn to Maya, who’s devouring a cheese croissant, “Is Jordan not joining us for breakfast?”

She shakes her head, then swallows, “No, she’s too worn out. Someone kept her up all night.”

It takes you a moment to realise what she means by that. And then your cheeks heat up, and you wish you hadn’t asked.

“Got it.”

With a soft chuckle, she apologises for the TMI. As you plate your own food, you tune into the different conversations taking place around the table.

Eleanor is telling Edward and Maya about her plan to spend the day at the beach, and B/N is listening to James tell him about an old pal who recently contacted him about a project he wanted the two of them to work on.

Neither interest you, so you focus on eating your breakfast. And after some time, Eleanor proclaims, “So it’s settled then, we’re spending the day at the beach!”

And her tone is final—bossy.

“I think I’ll sit this one out.”

The table turns to Mason, who really looks to be suffering.

With an apologetic smile and slight shrug of his shoulder, he states, “I feel like shit.”

The corner of your brother’s lips curve into a knowing smirk, “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want to stay behind?”

Mason rolls his eyes at what B/N’s insinuating.

“Where is Jordan anyway?” he continues.

“Mate, shut the fuck up,” and despite feeling ill, Mason smiles, and blushes.

The table erupts into laughter, and you force a laugh, but you’re green with envy.

Mason doesn’t make it to the end of breakfast, and when you leave for the beach around 11, you don’t see him.

☀️☀️☀️

The sound of the waves lightly crashing into each other serves as the perfect soundtrack to your morning. There are other people on the beach with you, children running across the sand and into the shallow waters, and you’re happy—content.

“I also should’ve brought a book with me.”

You turn to Maya, who is splayed stomach side down on her brightly hued large beach towel, directly under the sun.

“When was the last time you reapplied your sunscreen?”

She can’t remember. “Oops. Do you mind?”

You place your book to one side, “Where is it?”

She sits up and extends her arm to Eleanor’s bag, that’s mere inches from where she’s sitting, for the lotion. She doesn’t have to dig far since it’s at the top of the bag.

“Thanks. I keep forgetting to reapply it, which is really bad for my skin. And not to sound vapid, but I’m not trying to age.”

She takes her place in front of your beach chair, and quickly unfastens the knots of her bikini top, but keeps her hands over her chest area. As you rub the lotion onto her back, she tells you about her boyfriend and how he was supposed to come onto the trip with her.

“He bailed at the last minute.”

Your lotion slick hands glide down to the middle of her back, where you continue to rub, “Did he say why?”

“He’s just an asshole.”

You both laugh at that.

“But it’s fine. I’ll have a better time with Jordan anyway, even though she’s currently ditching me for Mason’s dick.”

You flinch at her choice of words, the visuals of the two of them fornicating flooding your mind, and you’d rather not think about it.

“How do you know Jordan anyway?”

“We work for the same PR company. We have similar interests so we instantly hit it off.”

“Oh.” You lean back on your chair to assess your work, “Well, it looks like I’m done.”

She thanks you, calls you ‘a star,’ then moves back to her previous spot and starts lathering the rest of her body. You reach for your phone—which you have wrapped in a towel and placed under your beach chair to keep from overheating—to check the time.

You’ve been at the beach nearly three hours now, and you’re kind of over it. Plus you’re hoping to take a quick nap, the lack of sleep finally catching up with you.

“Hey, Maya. I think I’m going to head back to the villa.”

“You’re not joining us for lunch?”

The plan is to lunch at a restaurant a walking distance from the beach, but you’re more tired than hungry.

“I think I’ll pass. And tell Eleanor not to panic, I’m fine.”

Maya chuckles at that.

You pack your belongings into your cotton canvas tote, and raise off the beach chair. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

Eleanor has gone with your brother to search for a cove to take pictures for her Instagram, and James and Edward are splashing in the water nearby. You wave at them as you walk away, and are grateful when they don’t question your departure.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You whip back to Maya, “Yeah?”

“If you happen to see Mason and Jordan, tell them to come down to the beach. I’ll send them a text, but I doubt they’ll see it.”

You nod, but deep down, you don’t wish to see them.

The temperature has gradually risen since you first arrived at the beach, but under the protection of your beach umbrella, you didn’t realise the intensity of the sun. It beats down on your exposed shoulders and back, and makes you wish you had worn a cover-up.

The streets are empty, everyone in this particular area seemingly gathered at the beach, and you’re so lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the stranger that’s now walking beside you.

“Hi.”

You stop dead in your tracks, startled by his sudden appearance.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You instantly recognise his accent to be English, and he looks to be around your age.

“Hi…”

He smiles wide, his teeth exposed. “I’m Alexander, Alex.”

Your eyes drop to his extended hand, and you reluctantly extend your own to shake it. You feel it’s too formal though.

“I’m Y/N.”

Alex’s taller than you are; his pale skin dark from being out in the sun too long; his hair sandy blonde, sticking up in different directions; and his eyes a light brown. A cute face, and he’s smiling at you, making conversation.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

You shake your head, “Are you?”

He tells you that he’s here on vacation with his family, and that they come here every summer, so he’s quite familiar with the place.

“How about you?”

You tell him something similar: that you’re here with your brother and his friends, but unlike Alex, this isn’t an annual tradition.

“Nice. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

And then he asks where you are headed and without giving it much thought, you tell him, only to realise that you have made a blunder.

What if he’s a creepy stalker?

“You’re not some creepy stalker, are you?”

He laughs at your question. “No, I’m not.”

“That’s what a creepy stalker would say.”

He doesn’t give creepy stalker vibes, at least you don’t get that energy from him, and you honestly don’t want to overthink it. Alex seems nice, knows how to hold a conversation, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend.

He then offers to walk you back to the villa and you allow it, and on the way there, the two of you make conversation about the island and places to visit. And you think he might be flirting with you, but you’re not sure.

“Well, this is me,” you announce as you slow your pace in front of your temporary home.

“And what does your brother do for a living, exactly?”

You’re not sure what he means by that, so you choose not to answer him. Instead, you reply, “Thank you for walking with me.”

He tells you not to sweat it, says goodbye and tells you that he hopes to see you again soon. And then carries on his way.

Inside the air conditioner cooled house, Mason is perched on the large sectional in the sitting room, on a Facetime call with a friend. He sounds livelier than he was this morning, his earlier sourness replaced by a jovial mood.

Upon hearing you enter the living room, he turns in your direction, the smile on his face widening at the sight of you, and suddenly, you feel self-conscious. The sudden drop in temperature inside the house has caused you to perspire, and you’re a bit out of breath, and you’re sure you look a mess.

“Hey, Deckers,” he cuts his friend off mid-statement, “I’ve got to go, mate. Chat later.” And then he hangs up the call, and fully turns to regard you. “You’re back!”

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, “I’m back. Are you feeling better?”

He shrugs, “Eh. How was the beach?”

“Warm, sunny. I liked it.”

“Then why are you back here?”

“To nap. I slept late last night,” you confess.

And when he beckons you over, you make your way to the sectional, and take your seat next to him—with space between you.

He scoots closer and assures you that he doesn’t bite. “So, what did you do at the beach?”

“Maya told me to tell you and Jordan to join them at the beach,” you blurt out suddenly.

Why, why, why have you done that? Your mind implores. And how does one recover from such? For a moment, you sit stunned, and wish the ground would open up and swallow you.

“For lunch. Maya told me to tell you to join them at the beach because it’s almost lunch.”

“Am I sitting too close?”

Yes. “No, it’s fine,” you lie, but it’s not convincing.

He smiles. “Then why do I get the sense that you are nervous?”

“It’s all in your head,” and you barely recognise your own voice. Who is this girl? And how is she so calm?

“It’s all in my head, huh?”

You place your hands over your face to conceal your smile and let your head fall back, “What do you want me to say?”

With a soft chuckle and a hand over your bent knee, he tells you, “I want you to be honest.”

The sound of a door closing downstairs disturbs the moment and you are reminded of Jordan’s presence. A few moments pass, then she appears at the entrance of the sitting room, in a bikini with a towel around her waist.

You don’t blame Mason for fixating on her, she really is so stunning.

“Are you guys back?”

It’s Mason who answers. “No, only Y/N. Where are you going?”

“Maya texted. They’re waiting for us at the restaurant, you coming?”

Mason moves away from you, and you feel your stomach drop—ouch.

“Yeah,” he raises off the couch, “Let me go change quickly.”

Your eyes drop to your fingers that are knotted on your lap. Your face is heating up for a different reason now, and you wish you had stayed at the beach with the rest of the group. Moments pass and you hear a slap sound, followed by Jordan’s giggle.

You sink further into the couch. It’s going to be a long vacation.

☀️☀️☀️

You successfully avoid Mason for the remainder of the day, but your luck runs out at dinner. In what you deem an unfortunate turn of events, you’re sat next to him at the restaurant, its tight configuration meaning that you were practically on Mason’s lap as you had your meal.

Arms and shoulders touching, knees bumping, and at one point, he has his arm draped over the back of your chair, the fabric of his shirt grazing the back of your neck. You try to ignore it, but he’s so close and smells so good, and it pains you to know that your feelings aren’t reciprocated.

And so you drink to numb your unrequited desires.

The sound of plates clattering and cheerful chatter fills the table. As previously mentioned, the restaurant isn’t large, with only five tables laid across the establishment, and they are all taken up by patrons who are here to enjoy the local cuisine.

It sits directly on the beach, a body of water a short distance from its front entrance, and its lack of walls makes it so you can see the ocean in the distance, waves rolling onto the shore, the sun setting in the horizon.

This is good, this is paradise, you think.

“It looks like Y/N’s got an admirer.”

You arch a questioning brow at your brother’s girlfriend, who sits directly across the table from you, her half-eaten plate of food now abandoned as she sips her alcoholic beverage. “I do? Who?”

“Okay, don’t turn now, but he’s sitting two tables away from us,” she seems ecstatic, “and he’s cute too.”

You like the sound of the last bit. Maybe a summer romance is in the cards for you after all.

“Okay, he’s turned away. You can look now.”

And you do so, only to discover that your admirer is none other than Alex.

“Oh, that’s Alex.”

“You know him?”

You swallow the last forkful of your meal then push your plate away from you, “Yeah, we met earlier. He’s here on vacation with his family. He’s nice.”

Enter Maya. “Just nice? Is that the best you can do?”

You get the sense that you have said something wrong—offensive even. “Yes, he’s nice.”

“Girl,” she continues, “you’ve got to do better than that. He’s clearly crushing on you, go talk to him.”

With wide eyes, you respond, “What? No!”

“Uh, why not?” they, Eleanor and Maya, ask in unison.

“Because that’s forward, and if he doesn’t actually like me, it would be extremely embarrassing for me.”

Maya turns to Eleanor, “Does she have a boyfriend back home?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Do you not want a summer fling? Or do you not swing that way?”

You laugh. You like Maya, she’s funny. “I can assure you his mind’s not on a summer fling.”

She throws her hands up in defeat. “I give up.”

“Maybe she’s not into guys like Alex. He looks like he’s a bit of a dweeb.”

Mason’s interjection catches you off guard, and you’re offended on the behalf of Alex.

“He’s not a dweeb,” you defend.

“The only word you could come up with to describe him was ‘nice.’ I think he’s a dweeb, friendzone material.”

And I think you should mind your own business, you want to retort, but you swallow your words, not wanting to make things awkward.

“Y/N’s into the bad boys, I reckon.”

That couldn’t be further from the truth, but you didn’t see the point in arguing with him.

“All I’m saying is that he keeps looking this way, and dweeb or not, he’s really into Y/N.”

Mason shrugs, and in a casual movement, his arm returns to the back of your chair. This time, his warm hand rests on the corner of your shoulder. “I don’t think you should waste your time, Y/N.”

You don’t respond, because you don’t trust your voice to not betray you.

☀️☀️☀️

It’s past three in the morning, and you’re tipsy from the liquor you consumed at dinner, and you can’t fall asleep, kept awake by thoughts of Mason. He currently occupies a too large portion of your thoughts, and it pains you because you know it will only lead to heartache.

Of all the people on this island, why did your heart choose to fixate on him? So stupid, so masochistic your heart is.

You grab your phone from its spot beneath your pillow and open the WhatsApp app to send a text to Claire:

You: Can’t sleep :/ wish you were here with me

She would know what to do in this situation. And if not, she’d find the perfect way to distract you from your moronic emotions.

You wait ten minutes to see if she’ll respond and when she doesn’t, you figure that she’s asleep, and decide to head out onto the balcony instead. Your mother’s words come to mind, ‘Fresh air clears a clouded mind.’

You pad across the cool tiled floor, and take caution not to cause a ruckus as you slide the door open. A light breeze greets you the moment that you step outside, and you inhale deeply through your nose.

And then you hear them, the distant moans coming from Jordan’s room next door. And your heart sinks at the realisation of what is happening. You weren’t aware she was with Mason again tonight.

Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!

More than anything, you’re frustrated at the fact that you care so much. He doesn’t like you, you’re his friend’s little sister, and he will never see you as anything more than that. And despite that knowledge, you’re bothered and you’re jealous and you think that life isn’t fair!

The icing on the cake—the most ridiculous part of this whole ordeal—is that you barely know the guy. But I guess emotions don’t work like that. The heart wants what it wants, or whatever, and you just have to accept that.

Fuck.

The moaning gradually intensifies and it suddenly feels wrong, dirty, to be standing out here. So you retreat back into your room, afraid that someone might catch you and get the wrong idea.

You’re not negative, you’re painfully shy, you’re a bad liar, and you’re not a pervert.

You dig your AirPods out of your tote, and listen to music to drown out the obnoxious sounds.

☀️☀️☀️

July 5, 2022

Breakfast the next morning is interesting. It seems you’re not the only one who heard Jordan and Mason’s impassioned moans. Everyone keeps teasing them about it, inappropriate jokes cracking from all sections of the table, making you wish you hadn’t come up for breakfast.

But eventually, the taunting ends, and the discussion turns to the day’s activities. B/N, Eleanor, James and Maya want to visit Castell de Bellver; and the other half, yourself included, would rather stay at the villa.

And so it’s decided that today, you will split up.

After breakfast, you accompany Maya to the beach because she wants shots of herself in front of the ocean, to ‘show my asshole boyfriend what he’s missing.’ And you’re not the best photographer, but the pictures come out decent.

You spend the rest of the morning texting Claire. The Castell de Bellver group leaves the villa around midday, and in their absence, a sort of party kicks off. You have come to discover that where there is Edward, there is booze. And music, obnoxiously loud music.

“You sure I can’t make you anything, love? I make a mean margarita.”

And because you can never say ‘no’ to Edward, you inquire, “A margarita?”

His face lights up, pleased at the prospect of you day drinking with him, “I promise to go easy on the booze.”

Jordan’s in the kitchen with him, but Mason’s nowhere to be seen. You have the first margarita, and when you finish it, they convince you to have a second. And you give in.

The volume at which they speak rises with every sip, and you witness them go from tipsy to borderline drunk in a matter of an hour. And in his borderline drunk state, Edward arrives at the conclusion that he wants to be near the ocean.

Why?

“Because I’m in mother fucking Majorca, bitches!”

And Jordan agrees.

Your flags go up, but you can’t properly articulate your concerns, the booze muddling your mind. You don’t think it’s a good idea for either of them to be near a large body of water in their state, but they’re out of the house before you can string together a coherent sentence.

Curse being a lightweight.

You think to follow after them, but then you realise that a tranquillity has descended upon the villa at their departure. And maybe it’s a selfish thought, but in their absence, you can finally read your novel.

You run down to your room to grab it, head out onto the terrace, and make yourself comfortable on one of the pool chairs.

This, you think, is what I imagined my summer to be.

And you’re basking in the solitude, lost in the words on the page, when-

“Where did everyone go?”

Right. Mason’s still home.

Without tearing your eyes from the page, you tell him, “The beach. They left about 10 minutes ago. I’m not sure if they took their phones.”

“And you stayed behind?”

“I don’t feel like sitting out in the sun.”

You hope that he might be repelled by your stoic tone, but he’s apparently not easy to deter. He makes his way over to where you’re sitting, and takes his seat at the foot of your chair.

“What are you reading?”

“A book.”

He’s amused. “I know that, but what’s it called?”

When you don’t respond, he reads the title on the cover.

“What’s it about?”

You give a brief summary of the plot.

“And do you like it?”

Oh god. “Don’t you want to join Jordan and Edward at the beach?”

“No.”

You drop the book to your lap, your finger placed between the pages to not lose your spot. Mason is in nothing but his board shorts, his face nap-swollen, sleep lines marking the one side of his face.

“You were napping?”

“Mm-hmm. Scoot over.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to lie next to you. So you can read to me.”

What? “It’s a boring book.”

“I don’t mind. Unless that’s you kind way of telling me to fuck off.”

And he smiles, which makes you smile.

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s not?”

You shake your head, “No. But I don’t think there’s enough space for the both of us.”

That’s not entirely true. It’s narrow, but the pool chair’s built just wide enough to seat two people.

“We’ll make it work. Scoot.”

And despite your better judgement, you do as he instructs. It’s a tight fit, but he fits—his body pressed right against your own.

“You comfortable?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Mm-hmm,” then you turn to your book, clear your throat, and start reading from where you left off.

You do your best to focus on the words on the page, but you’re very aware of Mason’s gaze fixed on your face as you read. And you feign indifference, but he’s so close, and it makes you nervous, and it makes you stumble on your words.

Why are you so affected by him?

He laughs at the funny bits, but for the most part, he’s silent. Listening. You expect him to get over it at some point, bored of the premise or the sound of your voice, but he stays put.

And at the end of the chapter, you close the book. “I haven’t bored you yet?”

“Mm-mm. Why d’you stop? Are you tired of reading?”

“A bit,” you shift in the chair, careful to avoid his sensitive area. “Are you sure you don’t want to join Edward and Jordan at the beach?”

“Why do I get the sense that you’re trying to get rid of me?”

“I’m not. I just figured you might want to–”

Your breath hitches at the feel of Mason’s fingers gliding up and down the skin of your exposed thigh.

“You figured I might want to what?”

He’s so casual as he asks the question, meanwhile, the words are lost to you, your brain malfunctioning.

“I figured…” you blank.

Suddenly, you don’t know how to speak.

A fuzzy feeling burgeons from the deepest pit of your stomach, and you know you have to get away, but you stay put because a part of you likes the fact that he’s touching you, but the other part—the reasonable one—sees the danger in his actions.

He’s leading you on. You’re nothing but an ego boost for him.

“Y/N?”

Say something, your mind screams at you, but your tongue’s heavy in your mouth—just a lump of lead.

“Earth to Y/N…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you still with me?”

Barely. Barely.

You lie perfectly still, afraid that if you move, it might ruin the moment. Under his touch, your body relaxes; your breath slows in tempo, shallow; and you catch yourself giving into him—and you don’t see the use in fighting it.

Thud.

Your novel hits the floor and the sound snaps you back to reality. You place a hand over his to stop its suggestive motion.

This is wrong and this can’t happen. What would your brother say if he walked in to find this sight? And Jordan? He was with her just last night.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

In quick movements, you peel away from him, raise off of the pool chair and without as much as a goodbye, scurry back into the house. You run to your room, shut the door behind you and lock it.

Stupid, stupid girl! Why would you act like such a buffoon?

“Holy crap…” you breathe out.

You’re aroused, your breathing erratic, and you feel like the biggest loser.

Why did you stop him? Your mind beseeches. Is that not what you wanted?

And now you can never face him, and he’ll never look your way ever again—not after this.

“Fuck.”

You might as well pack your bags and fly back to England. Or worse, come to terms with the fact that you’ve just ruined any shot of a summer fling with Mason.

☀️☀️☀️

An hour has passed since yours and Mason’s pool encounter, and you’ve managed to calm down but the embarrassment hasn’t been as forgiving.

You tried to call Claire, but she was out biking in the fields with her cousin and couldn’t talk. Reading was out of the question after you had abandoned your book on the terrace, and starting a new one seemed silly.

And so you sat and stewed in the feeling. And when that got too overwhelming, you listened to music to help drown your torturous thoughts. Would you ever get over it? Time would tell.

Around three o’clock, the Castell de Bellver group returned with the bad news that they didn’t get to see the castle. Apparently, in their excitement, they had forgotten to book their tickets online, and when they got there, the lines were too long.

“I take full blame, I’m generally an unlucky person,” Eleanor quips.

She calls it the ‘sightseeing curse,’ and launches into explaining the phenomenon, but you don’t catch a single word she says, your eyes fixed on Mason standing at the terrace with your brother.

The two of them are engaged in conversation, a smile on Mason’s face as he takes in your brother’s words.

“… But I did get you a gift!” Eleanor concludes.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” She digs into her Louis tote and pulls out a bright pink braided leather bracelet. “I didn’t know which colour to get.”

“Aw, Eleanor. Thanks.”

It’s such a sweet and unexpected gesture. She puts it around your wrist and it’s the perfect fit.

And then James comes from his room, looking for his boyfriend.

“At the beach with Jordan. I was actually about to head there, so I’ll let them know you’re back.”

And that’s how you escape Eleanor and her many stories. You love her, think she’s good for your brother, but man, once she gets started, there’s no stopping her. You grab your tote and phone from your room, then leave the villa.

There’s no definite plan for when you’re out the house, but it beats being in the same vicinity as Mason.

☀️☀️☀️

Edward and Jordan are still at the beach and they have befriended an elderly couple. Odd, but they’re still tipsy and they’re very happy to see you. After you tell them that the Castell de Bellver group has returned, they bid their company farewell and head back to the villa.

“You’re not coming back with us?”

“No. I think I’ll hang here for a bit. But I’ll see you soon.”

Jordan throws her arms around you and pulls you into a tight embrace. It amuses you how people are always the most affectionate in their drunk state. They blow a thousand kisses as they back away and then they are gone.

You take pictures of the ocean to post onto your story. On vacation mode, you haven’t been very active on your socials, which means that you’ve been behind on your friend’s summer activities.

You’re lost in your explore page when you hear a familiar voice call for you. It’s Alex, and he’s with his twin sister, Charlotte—Lottie.

Like you, they wanted to escape the house and the beach is the perfect spot to chill. And they invite you to join them,

“If you’re not busy, of course,” he clarifies and you appreciate his manners.

The rest of your afternoon is spent at the beach with the siblings, doing nothing in particular, but it’s a lot of fun.

Eleanor: Dinner’s at 8

Eleanor: You don’t have any allergies, right?

The second message was sent nearly an hour ago.

You: Sorry, didn’t see these. I’ll be home before then.

You send your response to her allergies question, and then you get an idea.

You: Can I invite a friend over for dinner?

You don’t expect an immediate response from her, but–

Eleanor: Only if it’s Alex ;)

You snort at her response.

You: It’s Alex

You: And his sister, Lottie

It’s been good spending time with your age mates.

Eleanor: Yes! The more the merrier.

Eleanor: Are they allergic to anything?

You invite Alex and Lottie over for dinner at yours, and when they accept, you ask if they’re allergic to anything.

You: No allergies, but Lottie doesn’t like peas.

☀️☀️☀️

It’s just past six when you and the twins part. At the villa, James and Eleanor are at the kitchen island, unpacking the groceries they’ve just come home with.

Your brother is out by the pool with Maya and Edward, and Mason is back to flirting with Jordan. The whole thing trips you up, and you conclude that it’s best not to dwell on it. Why lose sleep over something so trivial?

Because it isn’t trivial.

“What’s this I’m hearing about a potential love interest joining us for dinner tonight?”

James’s question catches you off guard.

“You told him?”

With an apologetic smile, Eleanor says, “He asked who Alex was and I didn’t know what to tell him.”

Oh goodness. “Alex is a friend.”

But James isn’t buying it. “A friend, huh?”

You laugh, “Yes. He is.”

“Then why are you giggling like that?”

“Nervous habit,” you take your seat on one of the stools at the island. “And I’m not sure if this will change your mind or not, but he’s bringing his twin sister.”

He dramatically stops mid-movement. “You’ve already met his family?”

“Who’s met who’s family?”

You really wish Mason would stop butting in your conversations like this. Your eyes follow him as he makes his way over to the fridge, where he grabs himself a bottle of water.

“Y/N. Her friend,” James winks knowingly at you, “is coming over for dinner tonight, and she was just telling me how she’s already met his family.”

“Not family, just his sister,” you clarify.

“Right, his sister.”

“Which friend? The dweeb?”

It annoys you that Mason keeps referring to Alex as that.

“Alex. His name is Alex, not dweeb.”

“Watch yourself,” James jokingly warns Mason.

But Mason doesn’t seem all that phased by your clear irritation. “So he’s coming over tonight?”

And you think your mind might be playing tricks on you, but Mason seems jealous.

“With his sister, yes.”

But you’re not interested in having this conversation with Mason in the kitchen, so you excuse yourself.

For the first time since the moment you landed on this island, you have something to look forward to and you don’t need Mason, or anyone for that matter, ruining it for you.

☀️☀️☀️

At your request, Eleanor and Maya came to your room to help you put together a look for tonight. Eleanor was the stylist, Maya the make-up artist and hairstylist. The transformation is like something out of a coming of age film, and you’re not mad about it.

“Who are you? And what have you done with my sister?”

If B/N was standing close to you, you’d shove him.

“What’s the occasion?” he inquires.

James can’t wait to tell him about Alex, which starts discourse on the nature of your relationship with your guest. They’re all like the annoying older sibling, teasing and prying, but you’d be lying if you said you aren’t entertained.

It’s Edward who comes to your rescue, extracting you from the chaos to pull you to the kitchen, where he makes you a drink.

“For courage,” he says as he hands it to you.

All eyes are on Alex and Charlotte when they arrive, and you’re tense. Jaws clenched level tense, nervous to see how your villa mates would interact with your guests. It’s your brother who makes the first move.

After introductions are made, Edward offers your guests drinks, and the rest is history. For the most part, Alex and Charlotte, stick with you, but every now and again, someone will walk over to make conversation.

When it’s time to eat, everyone makes their way over to the dining area. Alex takes his place on the seat to your right, and Mason insists on taking the left chair.

“So, Alex,” Maya starts and you already regret it. What is she going to say? “Where are you from?”

Phew.

Maya’s question launches an interrogation. Suddenly, everyone at the table—minus Mason—is a detective with questions. Where he was born. Where he’s studying. What he is studying. Future plans. All of it, they want to know, and they’re relentless in their pursuit to the answer.

Eventually, you have to interject and remind Alex that he doesn’t have to answer their intrusive questions, but he assures you that it’s fine.

“University College London, hey? That’s not far from where you’re studying, Y/N,” Eleanor notes.

Despite spending nearly three hours with the twins this afternoon, the topic of your studies never came up.

“Is it?”

“Oh, she didn’t tell you? She’s at the Chelsea College of Art and Design.”

Alex turns to you, “What are you studying?”

“Interior design.”

“Ah! An architect and interior designer, a match made in heaven,” Jordan observes.

You pretend to not hear Mason scoff beside you.

What crawled up his ass and died?

Despite Mason’s clear sour mood, it’s a good night. You weren’t sure how the night would go, but it went smoother than you had anticipated. Even your brother, whose reaction you dreaded the most, was pleased.

And as the night wraps up, you’re glad that you invited the twins over.

When you walk them out, you notice that Charlotte walks ahead of her brother, and you make nothing of it until…

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow? Because if not, I’d like to take you out.” Alex’s nervous as he asks the question.

The two of you are standing in the middle of the driveway. The backtrack to your moment are the cicadas and the distant music coming from the villa. It seems there will be another party tonight.

Your face heats up from the nerves. It’s not your first time being asked out by someone, but it still gets to you. You tell him that you are in fact available to hang out, and the two of you exchanged numbers.

And then he asks to kiss you. So in the middle of that driveway, the two of you share a chaste kiss.

What you don’t realise is that Eleanor and Maya are watching the whole thing unfold from the window, and so when you come into the house, they greet you with a million and one questions.

“When are you seeing him again?”

“How was the kiss?”

“Was he a good kisser?”

“Are you in love?”

Uh… “You saw that?!”

Neither is apologetic, despite the clear horror in your tone. There’s only one question on their minds: is the summer fling on?

You laugh. “I don’t know.”

“Well, when are you guys hanging out again?”

“Tomorrow.”

Your answer pleases them. They both squeal from excitement, and you almost can’t believe that the two women in front of you are approaching 30.

☀️☀️☀️

After the night you’ve had, you can’t sleep but you know better than to sit out on the balcony because Mason and Jordan were flirting again tonight, and you think you saw them kiss by the pool, but that could’ve been the lighting.

Either way, you weren’t going to risk it.

In your sleepless state, you did what anyone in your position would do—get on a late night call with your best friend.

“Wait… when did you meet a guy?”

You hadn’t told Claire about Alex because up until tonight, you didn’t see the point in telling her about him. He was neither a friend or potential romance/fling. You explain that to her, but she’s dissatisfied.

“Well, is he hot?”

You wouldn’t use the word ‘hot’ to describe Alex. You find him cute, but you don’t want a repeat of the ‘nice’ incident, so you search your mind for a more suitable adjective.

“He’s charming.”

Claire laughs, really loudly. So loud, you have to pull your AirPod from your ear. “Charming? What, is he ugly?”

“Claire, no!” you join her in her laughter, careful not to be too loud as you don’t want to wake the house. “No, he’s actually really cute.”

“I don’t trust you anymore. Does he have an Instagram?”

He probably does, doesn’t everyone have it at this age? But you unfortunately don’t know his last name.

“Okay. Where’s he from?”

You don’t know the answer to that either. Do you know anything about this guy? “He’s studying in London, though.”

“Okay, that’s something.” And Claire likes the sound of that. “If everything goes well between you, you could have yourself a boyfriend when you get back.”

Uh, she’s definitely jumping the gun, but you don’t tell that to her. You let her bask in her fantasy.

“At least one of us has got something exciting going on in their life. From now on, I’m living vicariously through you.” She goes on to tell you that she hates it at her grandmother’s cottage. “There’s virtually nothing to do. The other day, I started–”

“Claire, could you hold for one moment?”

You think you heard a knock sound from your door.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I just thought I h–”

It sounds again, but it’s clearer this time.

“Someone’s at my door.”

“At this late hour?”

You climb off of your bed and pad across the room to your door. You figure it’s Maya or Eleanor back to interrogate you some more.

“It could be Eleanor.”

There are so many possibilities for who might be standing on the other side, what you don’t expect is for it to be Mason.

He’s still dressed in what he was wearing at dinner, and he seems distressed over something. And you’re ashamed to admit that you’re concerned, and that your immediate response is to want to help make it better.

“Can I come in?”

His simple question catches you off guard. “Hey, can I call you back in a bit?”

You don’t wait for Claire’s response before you hang up.

The right thing to do would be to turn him away. That’s what a normal, sane person would do, but your curiosity has always outweighed your normality and sanity.

“If you’re here to insult Alex, I swear I’ll–”

“I’m not here to insult your friend,” his voice strains ever so slightly at the word ‘friend.’

Seriously, what’s his beef with the guy?

“Then why are you here?”

Mason looks over his shoulder then back to you. “Please let me in.”

Your mind cautions against it, but you’re deaf to its warning. You don’t listen to it much, your mind, at least not when it comes to boys.

“Only if you promise to behave.”

“You have my word.”

And that’s good enough for you. You move out the way to let him pass, and once he’s inside, you close the door and lock it. The last thing either of you need is your brother, or anyone, walking in and getting the wrong idea.

You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that this is wrong.

But that thing about your curiosity and the fact that despite everything you have internally said about Mason, you’re fascinated by him, drawn to him in a way that makes no sense to you. Infatuation is weird that way.

“You journal?”

Mason’s standing at your desk in the corner, examining the objects littering the surface. There’s a journal, a pen, half drunk bottle of water, and a few of your beauty products.

“Sometimes. I haven’t done it in a while though, so I’m trying to get into it again.”

You brought out the journal for two reasons tonight: first, to document your first kiss with Alex, and secondly, to vent about Mason.

“So, what brings you to my room, Mason?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

You think the answer vague and leaves you with more questions like, “Can’t you read a book? Listen to a podcast? Music? Watch a video on YouTube…”

Have sex with Jordan. You don’t say that option because you realise that it’s petty—there’s no reason to bring Jordan into this.

“Yeah, but then I thought I’d come see if maybe you were also up.”

There’s something about the way he says that.

“What, did Jordan kick you out of her room, then?”

And you instantly hate yourself for asking that, and hate what it insinuates. If you wanted to show him that you had no feelings for him, that’s no way to show it.

With a smug smile, he responds, “No, she didn’t kick me out.”

“Well, I am. So please leave.”

“But I only just got here.”

“Yeah, well you disturbed my call.”

At some point, earlier in your conversation, you noted that he sounded tipsy. If you didn’t know better, you’d probably miss it. You attribute his strange mood to that, and in another scenario, you’d be fearful, but you trust Mason.

“I’ll be silent, I promise.”

Your face twists in disapproval.

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” There’s a brief pause, and then, “Oh, you were on the phone with Alex just now.”

“No, my friend Claire.”

“Were you telling her about me?”

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was telling her about Alex, actually.”

“What about him?”

God, how old is this man? And why on earth are you flattered by this stupid behaviour? Seriously, what’s wrong with you?

“That’s none of your business, actually.”

“So what’s the deal with you and Alex anyway?”

You really hate this question, not because it’s Mason who asks it, but because you genuinely don’t know what to tell people. Just a few hours ago, Alex was nothing but a friend, and sure, you shared a kiss, but surely that doesn’t change anything.

Or are you the bitch?

“Who wants to know?”

“Me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m curious. Want to know if I still stand a chance.”

A chance? A CHANCE? “Mason, I’m really tired and I’m not in the mood for mind games.”

You watch as he moves from his spot at the desk to your bed, where he takes his seat at the end of it. Usually, a bench sits where his feet are, but Maya moved it earlier.

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

“Why? Are you kicking me out already?”

“Maybe.”

“But I didn’t say anything to offend your friend.”

“Yeah, but Claire… she’s expecting me to call her back.” And because you don’t care anymore, you add, “And I’m really not sure why you’re here.”

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”

“And I gave you options to help with that.”

“And I appreciate the recommendations, but–”

“But nothing. Mason, if someone walks in here, all hell will break loose.”

“Why? It’s not like we’re doing anything?” and cheekily, he adds, “Unless you want to.”

That prompts memories of your pool encounter. The feel of the tip of his fingers floating across your skin; the scent of him, one you can only describe as Mason; and the way he made you feel.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“How old are you?”

His brows knit together, and he seems perplexed.

“My brother’s 29, Eleanor’s 27. How old are you?”

“23.”

That makes him four years your senior. Age is nothing but a number, and whatever, but that’s a significant gap to you. But then again, you’re also jumping the gun here. Should this happen, if it happens, it would be nothing more than a summer fling.

Who are you kidding? A summer fling? Girl, this is the same man who was hooking up with Jordan just days ago.

“Well, I turned 19 this year.”

And surely, he must know that. I mean, you know that your brother doesn’t go around telling people your age, but surely he could see it.

All he can say is, “Fuck.”

And you agree. Fuck.

“Well, are you just going to stand there?”

“As opposed to doing what?”

“Sit with me,” he says. And when you make no movements, he adds a polite, “Please.”

Bad idea. You don’t trust yourself around him. Frankly, you think he should leave the room before you do something you’ll both regret, but the truth is that you like having him here, sitting at the end of your bed like that.

He’s so handsome, and there’s a certain glint in his eyes, probably from the alcohol in his system, and his hair’s so inviting. You just want to run your fingers through his locks.

“What are we going to do?”

It’s a rhetorical question because there’s nothing to do. For one, your brother would have a coronary. Not to mention the age gap, you know Claire wouldn’t approve of it. And his thing with Jordan, and your thing with Alex, and everything.

But his smile, the sound of his laughter…

Your legs begin to move to Mason of their own volition. You stop before him, and for some time, the two of you just stay like this, your hands in his hair, his hands at your hips.

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount one shot #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine

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phntmeii · 8 months

Text

♡ Dating Aegon II Targaryen Headcanons:

❝ But… If you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied…❝

[SFW+NSFW + AFAB!Reader]

General Warnings: sad!Aegon, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of neglect

NSFW Section Warnings: pervert!Aegon, AFAB Terms, Somnophilia, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Sensory Deprivation

A/N: Still upset about his characterization in the show :/ Poor TGC was trying so hard to save this character. Appreciate that he gave us pathetic wet dog vibe for Aegon at the least

SFW Headcanons:

☀️ Aegon has desperate issues regarding love especially the idea of someone loving him. He’s been completely neglected by his father, only valued by his mother as a “rightful” king and struggles with alcoholism as a result.

☀️ Having you see him not as a ruler, not as a prince, not as a chess piece in a political game, but as a person has his mind confused.

☀️ It takes a bit of time for him to entertain the idea of you valuing him as true but once he does, he’s latched onto you like his life depends on it.

☀️ And I mean literally latched on. He is unashamed at how clingy he is to you. Arms always wrapped around you in the hall and keeping his eyes to yours.

☀️ Aegon is only willing to listen to you without complaining too much. Maybe a whine or two but he’s totally whipped so he’s on his way to do as you ask.

☀️ He’d LOVE for you to meet Sunfyre. If you are unaccustomed to dragons, he makes sure to slowly introduce you because he wants you to love his dragon as much as he does.

☀️ Always dreams about running away with you. He’ll be cuddling with you and ask about it. Even if it was impossible, he’d like to dream about going off somewhere in Essos, away from the throne.

☀️ “Love, simply listen to me… Imagine it. We could run off on the first ship out of this blasted kingdom. It could be just us…”

☀️ Alicent would simultaneously love and hate you. She enjoys the company of women and finally, someone has found a way to handle Aegon. But, she’d also be weary of this on account of her father because Aegon being infatuated with you means he’s more willing to listen to you than his council.

☀️ Rather than ditch his duties to attempt escapes, to drink or to whore, he’s sneaking off to see you if it’s been too long. He insists you stay by him during meetings or other duties to keep him from “going mad”.

☀️ Aegon can get very jealous when he sees you with other men because he knows what they’re thinking when they look at you. But you are his. No one else’s.

☀️ And considering he’s the firstborn and a prince, he has absolutely no problem getting petty because there would be no serious consequences. (Bonus tag team with Aemond.)

☀️ Aegon’s main Love Languages to give are: Physical Touch and Quality Time.

☀️ Aegon is obsessed with your body completely. He wants to do everything to have you in his arms.

☀️ He is unashamed with PDA. He’s kissing you almost every couple of minutes. He’s walking down the halls all smiles because he’s holding your hand.

☀️ Aegon’s need for you is constant and his mood quickly sours if he’s pulled away from duty rather than being able to spend his time with you.

☀️ He’d whisk you away onto Sunfyre for a joyride just so he can be away from everyone but you. Consider it a romantic gesture because in his mind it is.

☀️ He thinks it’s like when the knight saves the princess in the stories.

☀️ Lingers in the mornings just so he can have you by him for longer. The sun is hurting his eyes this early in the morning so what better than to bury his head in your chest and softly ask you to stay as he caresses your perfect body.

☀️ Aegon’s favorite Love Languages to receive are: Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation.

☀️ Aegon wants to feel special. To feel taken care of. To feel loved. So anytime you go out of your way to assist him, his eyes are sparkling as he looks at you.

☀️ You tidied the bedchamber? Have prepared his clothing? You’ve had his sword cleaned and polished? You’re practically begging for this man to be completely and utterly obsessed and he’s littering you in kisses in appreciation.

☀️ And, of course, he wants praise. No one has validated him and simply valued him as a person so he yearns for your words.

☀️ Something as simple as “I’m proud of you” has him close to shedding tears because no one tells him that.

☀️ He wants to hear you say “I love you” as much as possible so he’ll say it all the time just to hear you say it back.

NSFW Headcanons:

☀️ At first, he has to be dominant and take control. He’s been cut out of having control in all other aspects of his life that he needs some semblance of power.

☀️ You can trust that he knows what he’s doing. Although some of his fucking has been done while drunk, he’s done it and experimented enough to know what gets him off and what gets you off.

☀️ Only after some time will he trust to submit himself in bed. It’s scary to him. To lose control in another aspect of his life. But he trusts you and he loves you.

☀️ And surprisingly, being so slow, gentle and loving to him, it felt amazing. Having you ride him, hands interlocked and meeting each other’s eyes.

☀️ His favorite part of you are your tits. Seeing them bounce as you ride him, needing to touch and feel them.

☀️ He whimpers and cries when he’s getting close, begging you not to stop. He’s clearly needy just by the way he’s grabbing onto any part of you that you let him.

☀️ When he’s more comfortable with being submissive, he’s whiny in his needs. Tugging at your gown anytime you two are alone, insisting he needs to at least have a look.

☀️ “Please, my love… Please! Just one look! Gods, you have no idea how much I crave you.”

☀️ Aegon’s hand would try to slip under your gown under the table at dinner, insist that only he needs to assist you in bathing which is definitely just an excuse to fuck, and just straight up jack off when you two are alone in your bedchamber, pleading for you to touch him.

☀️ Aegon could definitely cum with the punishment of only being able to hump at your leg. The humiliation of being so desperate gets him off like nothing else.

☀️ He can be bratty sometimes but it’s all purposeful. He wants you to punish him because you both know it leads to being tangled around each other in bed.

☀️ Oh, and Aegon is absolutely unashamed about being loud. The louder the better in his opinion. He wants everyone and anyone to know how fucking good you two fuck and for how long.

☀️ He’d leave whatever chamber you two were in with a smug grin, knowing that no one could match the passion you two share.

☀️ Aegon has average stamina and lasts as long as you edge him for. He could go 2-3 a times a day and still ask for more even when he’s a shaking mess.

☀️ Sit on this man’s face. Period. No questions asked. If he can breathe, he isn’t satisfied. Suffocate him entirely, clamp onto his head with your thighs and watch him eat you out like a starved madman.

☀️ Aegon is a whore for praise and he makes it known when he’s giving you head. He gets so easily pussy drunk it’s insane. His eyes are locked onto you, only parting from your swollen, abused cunt to hear how well he’s doing.

☀️ “My love… Please tell me how well I’m doing… I’m being good, am I not?”

☀️ One of his favorite things would be longer sessions where he’s blindfolded and completely up to your control. Have fun with waxplay and sensory deprivation and watch his cock twitch and leak precum at each touch.

☀️ Sometimes you’d wake up to him already rubbing his cock against your cunt, feeling the wetness already coating him. His forehead pressed to your back as he softly moaned. It’s so easy for him to get turned on when you’re so close to him.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#asoiaf #asoiaf headcanons #asoiaf x reader #hotd #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd headcanons #hotd imagine #hotd aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the elder #aegon x reader #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x reader #hotd x you #aegon ii headcanons

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chubbyheadquarters · 1 year

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May I have a Request of LMK Wukong and Macaque x Reincarnation Reader but separately. If not it's okay.

Genre: Romantic Pronouns: Gender-Neutral TW/CW: Mention of Death Character(s): Sun Wukong-Monkey King, Macaque-Liu Er Mihou

I've already done something like this, but I'll mix it up a bit. 🤙

☀️Sun Wukong☀️

He wanted you to eat an immortal peach, but you were scared to live forever. Scared of one day getting bored and never finding anything to do. Secretly scared that he would leave you. So he respected your wishes. Even on your death bed, he stayed by your side, promising to find you again.

He waited for so long, hoping to find you, but never could. He couldn't help the feeling of fear that crawled into his heart. Fear that he may never find you again. That he'd be alone forever. Still, he had hope. He made you that promise, and he's not gonna break it.

When Mk was named successor, he was hoping that the trips to the city would help in his quest to find you, with Mk promising to help out, even if he wasn't told much. Though, it didn't take much longer, with you finding Mk, recognizing the staff and asking him to take you to Flower Fruit Mountain. He's a bit confused, but does so.

When you arrive, you realize that nothing on Flower Fruit Mountain has changed, and it brings tears to your eyes. The little monkeys are immediately bombarding you in hugs and cries, leaving Mk even more confused.

Wukong comes to see what the ruckus is about and immediately freezes upon seeing you. With tears in your eyes, you embrace him, and though it takes him a sec to realize it's really you, he's spinning you around, laughing with joy and refusing to let you go. After all this time, he's finally been reunited with you!

The others are happy, with Mk being the most curios, following Tang. There aren't many tales with you in it, and you're happy to tell them what the book doesn't. Seeing you get along with the others has him happy. It reminds him of old times.

And one day, he's eating a peach, ready to take the last bite, when you take it away and eat it yourself. He's freaking out, about to tell you what you just ATE-"Babe, I know what it is. I'm eating it because I WANT to". He's crying for the first time in a real long time, and you're by his side to comfort him. Knowing that this time, he won't have to say goodbye, it makes him happy.

🌙Macaque🌙

Macaque always thought that fate was cruel, giving him a shitty hand time and time again. And this time was no different, with you being taken away from him, all because of some disease spreading through your village. You promised to find each other, him promising to spoil you, to keep you safe, to always stay by your side. And you promising to give him your everything, to be with him for eternity, to love him and him alone.

When you passed, he waited and collected all sorts of things to give to you when you'd meet again. Traveling in hopes to find you again, along with gaining stories to tell. He wants your days in the future to be filled with wonder and gifts, so many that you won't know what to do with all of them.

Even after his death, he searches for you in the Underworld, and when he doesn't find you, he takes any chance of gaining life, only to go back and see that everything's changed. Time moved forward, and you could be anywhere. He searches high and low, traveling once more to find you. At one point, he's so tired, even BEGGING fate to let you both meet again.

And when he does, a wave of emotions hit him. Though he snaps out of it when seeing you all alone and on the verge of tears. His heart breaks, and he's rushing to you side. He knows he should play it safe as not to scare you off- You may not even know who the hell he is-but he's been so lonely without you.

And you have no idea how thankful he is when you scream his name with joy. It takes a bit to calm you down, but you go on about how you've been all around the world trying to find him, and tonight had you down because this was the last place you had to check. And you were scared since there didn't seem to be a single trace of him anywhere.

Your words have him in tears, with him telling you how he's been looking for you too. That he never stopped and now that you're together, he'd do his damned best to keep you safe, no matter what. You're elated by his words, just happy to be by his side.

The gang, mainly Mk, are glad that you've come into Macaque's life. Since doing so, he's become much more calm and relaxed, and even began to open up a bit more to the others. If you get along with Mk and Bai He, then that's even better. Also, welcome your new adopted daughter Bai He-

#chubby reader #x chubby reader #lmk x chubby reader #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #wukong x chubby reader #wukong x reader #sun wukong x chubby reader #sun wukong x reader #macaque x chubby reader #macaque x reader

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arillusionist · 4 months

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grishaverse dashboard simulator

🤯 conspiracy-theories follow

theory: the sun summoner is definitely still alive. all we know is that she “gave up her life to save ravka” but how? have YOU ever heard of a grisha dying from using their powers?? it just doesnt make sense.

🌝 ruinsruiners follow

Bitch shes a SAINT. All saints die. Move on lmao

🐺 awooga10384 follow

alina was different and u know it just bc she was a “saint” doesnt mean she had to die op is right and ur being an asshole get off their post

☀️ starkovers follow

not you calling her alina like you know her personally… put some respect on her name bruh

🐺 awooga10384 follow

wait til u find out not everyone is religious and ravkan and doesnt use sankta labels n shit

☀️ starkovers follow

the way i literally never even mentioned religion… the lack of reading comprehension on this site is insane

3,377 notes

⛴️ wraithupdates follow

Friendly reminder to DNI if you think the Wraith and D*rtyh*nds are together! We do not welcome you guys on this blog :)

61 notes

🌤️ saintlydays follow

drew some fanart of sankta anastasia i hope you guys like it!! i drew her with a bleeding eye because shes the saint of sickness and when my mom was sick her eye started bleeding for like 2 days straight lol but i prayed to sankta anastasia and she made my mom get better even though her eye is permanently damaged and my sister and dad could not recover and they passed away after like 5 days of pain (we stabbed them to put them out of their misery)

#sankta anastasia #saint anastasia #saint #sankta #saints fanart #sankta fanart #sankta anastasia fanart #saint anastasia fanart

3 notes

🍺 giddyuphorsey follow

tired of yall stereotyping kerch as a dark and gloomy place… not all of us live in ketterdam or in the north in general. its extremely offensive to us so please fucking stop.

💎 ravkasbeauty follow

womp womp

4,018 notes

❓ grishapolls follow

🔥inferni-heart follow

Sturmhond is a privateer…

🧟‍♀ razorskull follow

who gaf

🔥inferni-heart follow

Shut up you dirty kerch ketterdam gang member money worshipping heathen

🧟‍♀ razorskull follow

it was never that deep but okay..

201 notes

🦴 shadowsandbones follow

not trying to b racist or anything but why do grisha always act like they’re better than anyone else… and why doesnt anyone ever call them out…

1,121 notes

🦐 merchingaway follow

JUST FOUND OUT THAT WYLAN VAN ECK’S BOYFRIEND IS DIRTYHAND’S EX LMFAO WHATTTT

🫠 theseventhsoldier follow

guys im shu can someone please tell me that dirtyhands is not what i think it means… i keep seeing that name all over this app and im so confused

🦐 merchingaway follow

trust me its not but based on this new info…

981 notes

💣 boomboomboom follow

JUST TRIED A ZEMINI PIE FOR THE FIRST TIME MY LIFE IS FINALLY COMPLETE 💞💞💞💞💞💞

17 notes

🪴 green-skies follow

Funny how people keep hating on Kerch when Fjerda is RIGHT THEREE

💎 ravkasbeauty follow

as a heartrender whos grisha mom got captured by a fjerdan ship: womp womp

🧙🏾‍♀️ zowaaaa follow

also op is kaelish so like… why tf are they talking lmao

💎 ravkasbeauty follow

right!! also fjerdans are barely on the internet (too many grisha here for them lmao) so its not really funny bc they cant see it

☀️ starkovers follow

kerch on the other hand… most chronically online mfs i’ve ever seen

12,347 notes

#this is post ck but pre kos ig because i havent read that duology yet #i am dying to read it so i will soon #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #six of crows #alina starkov #sturmhond #nikolai lantsov #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #shadow and bone #dashboard simulator #is that all... it better be #oh “boomboomboom” is not supposed to be wylan btw #kanej #wesper

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feelbokkie · 1 year

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🧛How he would react to you being a vampire🧛

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff, light the tiniest bit of angst if you squint, crack, vampire au

pov: 2nd person

description: you're a vampire and this is how each skz would react (gifs have nothing to do with the writing)

pairing: bf!skz x gn!vampire!reader

warnings: vampireism(?), swearing, suggestive, mention of blood, mention of throwing up (Jeongin), mention of necrophilia (Jisung), let me know if I missed anything

word count: 1,810

방 찬 (Bang Chan)

To be completely honest, with how pale this man is and his insomnia, you would think you're just meeting a fellow vamp

He would be glad to have someone to hang out with and to keep him company while he's working late at night

All of your dates would be at night because he doesn't want the sun to hurt you

Would 1000% sacrifice himself if it means you get to eat

You've heard a lot of music in your lifetime so he values your opinion and counts on you being brutally honest

"Reminds me of something I once heard at an Elizabethan fair." "Is that good or bad?" "The song was good but the bard was terrible. Your sounds a lot better by comparison." "It was the Elizabethan era, standards were much lower back then" "What was that?"

Avoids garlic like it's the plague

He just wants to be able to kiss you

Will watch you as you sleep if he gets the chance

Let's you sit in the background of his lives since you won't appear anyway but you have to be quiet

"'Chan, is that phone floating?' What? Don't be ridiculous, phones don't float. Why are you looking at my bed anyway, you should pay attention to me!"

Nice, very subtle

Always walks in first when you two go out so he can invite you in, just in case

Such a gentleman

Always makes sure to save you all of his photocards and mini posters so you have little mementos of him

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho)

Did not think that vampires were real

You hid it from him at first because for the first time in eons, you found someone who made you feel something and you didn't want to scare him off

It was going well until he tried to sneak a picture of you to send to the boys and you didn't show up

"That's weird." "What's weird?" "I tried to take a picture of you but you're not showing up." "About that..."

You stumble over your words explain how you didn't want to tell him because you didn't want to scare him away before finally admitting you were a vampire

"Why should that matter?" "W-what?" "Ah, should I start speaking formally? Y/N noona/hyung?" "Just speak casually."

He knows you can eat regular food but will offer to let you drink his blood

"You need to eat." "Min, it's fine. I can just drink animal blood." "If animal blood was enough then there wouldn't be lore about vampires preying on humans."

Tries not to make you go out in the sun, but will make sure you're covered and protected like a mom getting their baby ready for a beach day

"Will sunblock even work on you?" "I'm fine with an umbrella and long sleeves." "Eh, we'll put it on anyway."

Just wants you at your best

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin)

He would be excited

Like, you should be concerned for his well being

Just has so many questions

"Do you turn into a bat?" "No."

"We don't turn into a pile of ash in the sun. We just get weaker and easier to kill. Some people do get severe burns though. It hurts like a bitch."

"If I were to eat garlic and then made out with you, would you just die straight up?" "Actually, the garlic thing is a common misconception created by Vampires to trick humans into eating it. Garlic acts as a blood thinner so it makes the blood go down smoothly."

Would blow his mind too

"Vampires actually created welcome mats as a loophole to being invited in" "You guys are geniuses!"

"So, are your fangs like straws or they just make holes?" "Straws? No, Binnie, our teeth are not hollow."

Would be concerned that you're not getting enough nutrients after you told him that you're a vegetarian and only feed on animal blood

One time he got a pint of his own blood, you're not even sure how, and called it a "Ca-me-sun" (like Caprisun)

You didn't drink it so he wouldn't get into the habit of feeding you with his own blood (what a waste)

Will go to a butcher for you and ask for animal blood for you, gotta make sure his baby eats

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin)

He would be terrified

Would be paranoid around you for the first few months of you two knowing each other

Convinced you're raising him for slaughter or something

Walked around with Holy Water, a cross, and a wooden stake as a precaution

He let his guard down when he saw you trying to do your hair one day

You can only do so much without a mirror

He realized that you couldn't see yourself in the mirror so he offered to do a cute hairstyle for you

You reminded him that it wouldn't matter because you couldn't see yourself anyway

💡

He did you hair and then sketched you afterwards so you could see it

"It's been so long since I've seen myself that i actually forgot what I looked like." "I can do more drawings for you if you like."

That's when you two clicked

You tried not to bug him with asking him to draw you

He doesn't mind though, he sees how happy seeing drawings of yourself made you. Happy after centuries of not know what you looked like

Would eventually have a sketchbook dedicated to you where he would also write little notes to you

And would have a few couple drawings

So that you can remember him centuries after he's gone

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung)

Would think it's cool

Would binge every vampire movie he could get his hand on to "learn about your culture"

"Is leech a slur?" "No, Ji, leech is not a slur."

"Does this mean I'm into necrophilia?" "Wasn't cute when I heard it in the 1800s, not cute now." "But it's a serious question. I need to know these things about myself." "I'm not a fucking corpse, but I can lay there like one if you prefer."

Stops questioning it after that

"I wonder if I taste delicious." "If that's your weird way of asking me to suck your blood, you can drop it." "What if I told you it was a kink?" "W-what?"

Found a work around with hickies

*Sighs* "I'm not turning you." "We would be a power couple!"

"I can't tell if you're looking at me like that because you're horney or hungry." "Are those two not the same?" "Excuse me?"

He got you into anime

"How have you never watched anime? You were there for the birth of it." "Shut the fuck up."

When he's anxious, he'll come to you because your cold hand calm him down

Hell, he'll come to you when he's sick or hurt and use you like an ice pack

Bastard

Despite being alone for most of your life, you really feel it when he's away on tour

이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok)

Would absolutely love it

10/10 would want to just remake Twilight

Especially the "I know what you are" scene

"How old are you?" "20." "How long have you been 20?" "A while."

Disappointed you don't sparkle in the sun

The man tends to wear crucifixes but would take them off for you so that you don't get injured when he cuddles you

Would aggressively slap his neck and scream "Come get y'all juice!" Just like the vine

It made you chuckle

Always tries to warm you up out of habit

"So you don't have any super powers at all?" "Felix, Twilight is nowhere near the realm of being factual"

Loves hearing old stories

You two play video games together often

Bought blackout curtains just for you so you can spend the night more often

Would slowly get sad over time because he realizes that you'll be alone again someday

Tries to convince you to turn him

You have to remind him that he's an idol and it would look suspicious if all his members got old and he didn't

Tries to convince you to turn the who group

You have to tell him that being a vampire is more of a curse than a blessing

Tries to make as many memories with you as possible so you can look back at them fondly.

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min)

Would spend way too much time trying to kill you

Not because he thinks you're going to hunt him and go on a rampage

He just doesn't believe that vampires are real so he's just testing you

"Well, I mean, anyone would die from a wooden stake to the heart Y/N, you're not special."

Definitely invited you over to his dorm and purposely didn't invite you in to see if you would "commit to the bit"

You stayed outside for 5 whole hours

Just thought you were really stubborn

Until one day you were helping him cook and the knife slipped in a way that would have been a major injury on a mortal but was just a gaping, bloodless slice in your hand

"But I've seen you eat people food!" "I am a people!" "You know what I mean." "I can eat normal food, it just doesn't sustain me like blood does." "You don't have blood but you can still eat and digest food normally?" "I've learned not to question vampireism."

"Wait, so the other day when you gave me a hickey..." "I may have had a little taste. I couldn't help myself, you smell so good." "Just ask next time."

Is surprisingly chill with it

"Y/N, if you want to drink my blood, just ask. Stop staring at my neck vein." "Sorry. I only see it when you sing and it amazes me."

양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In)

It'll take him a while to get used to it

"You're technically younger than me so I should speak casually. But you're also like 1,000 so I should speak formally." "Speak casually."

Will still speak formally in public out of habit, confusing onlookers because you look younger

Will ask if you know someone or if you lived experienced a certain event if you two are watching a documentary or something

You occasionally give him false information to fuck with him

What's he going to do, Google it?

"Just a little taste." "No." "What if you get a paper cut? Can I at least lick the blood?" "No!"

Refused to buy you blood because that's disgusting

"But Innie, the sun's out and I'm already weak from not feeding for 2 weeks!" "Y/N, I love you but I WILL throw up. Take my hoodie, I'll even give you money for it."

Ended up going to the butcher on his own after he watched you collapse in the sun

Threw up when he got home

Needless to say that you never asked him to get the blood again and always made sure that you had some at his dorm just in case

—

Buy me a coffee?

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lanadeldixon · 8 months

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Sunshine ☀️

Pairing- Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting- Season 5- Alexandria’s introduction

Word count- 1.8k

Summary- Daryl’s arms in the sun>>

Warnings??- slight nudity, mention of scars, mention of blood

The sun warmed my skin as I stood outside the gates, the heat was strong today, it was getting harder and harder to bare. But as we watched the gates open revealing rows of perfect houses and strangers laughing, walking their dogs and talking about such minuscule, trivial things like their new hairstyles and whether to bake a cake or cookies for the new comers. It all became worth it so quickly, excitement filled me, we were finally finding a place to lay down our roots and settle, Judy and Carl deserve a place like this, we all do. Some of us may not see it but we need this more than anything. Any longer out there would be too long.

We walked through the door, a trail of blood following behind Daryl from the “dinner” he shot. I watched him for a second, observing his muscular frame as Aaron showed us around the town.

I’d always noticed how strong his arms were but with the sun beating down on him and the beaming light making his veins more visible and causing a single drop of sweat to drip down to his hand, it became almost impossible to not notice his form.

He must’ve felt my gaze on him as when I finally looked up, his eyes were on mine. He had a stern look on his face, his lips pursed tightly together, head lowered whilst looking at me through hooded lids. It felt like an eternity of watching until I was snapped back to reality, “so Y/N, are you ready for your interview?” I turned to Aaron quickly, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

“Hm, oh um, yes?! Definitely!” At first I spoke with a slight tone of concern before speaking with confidence. It took me a minute to process fully what he had said, my mind was still lurking with thoughts of the archer.

I could feel his eyes on me still as I spoke, he watched me like a predator would its prey, making sure not to miss a single step, getting ready for any move I might make.

“Okay good!” Aaron said, I promise there’s no reason to be concerned” he specified with a compassionate look, I smiled, “thank you Aaron.”

I gave one last look before walking away and to my content his eyes were still locked on mine.

After the interview I was exhausted, Deanna had asked some really personal questions, she seemed like a good person, she just wanted to know more about the dynamic of our group and my place in it, so of course she had to ask tough questions. However it was truly a struggle to talk about some of it. "Oi Y/N"

I turned quickly recognising the thick accent.

"Oi to you to Dixon," I said with a large smile.

"Woah Sunshine, that smile just for me?" he let out with a huff.

I blushed and instinctively averted my gaze, that name always made me lose it, looking back at him I was drawn to what was in his hands, his grip was tightened around the handle of a knife, the other hand tight around a rock, scraping it against the blade.

“Why'd ya keep doin' that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Ya keep looking at ma arms and ma hands,”

My face reddened to the shade of a tomato, as the idea that he’d catch on to the “thoughts” I’d been having of him crossed my mind.

“Are ya okay?” A wave of concern suddenly washing over him.

“Yep” I said quickly, my voice catching in my throat causing it to come out in a squeak.

“Nah, ya face it looks all red, I think ya comin’ down with heatstroke.”

He strutted over in a timely manner.

He rested the back of his hand against my forehead.

“Shit y/n, ya burning up.”

Part of me was relieved for the excuse the other felt guilt for his concern.

“I’m fine honestly.” I said with a relaxed expression.

He looked me up and down silently, it was always hard to figure out his intentions but right now I knew there was only worry.

“Are you okay?” I said with an almost accusatory tone.

He looked into my eyes sternly before grabbing my arm and pulling me away. He was gentler than I expected, making sure not to cause any harm.

“Where are we going?”

Without looking back he just muttered something and sped up in guiding me.

We got a few concerned looks from the people we walked by but aside from that we made it to our destination with no hassle.

“So this is where we are staying?”

“Hm” he said looking away, his energy shifting altogether from the man teasing me a few minutes ago.

“Wanna go shower” he said not even looking at me.

“Huh? You want us to shower?!” I stated shocked, once again blushing as an unholy image flashed through my brain.

“I meant ya take a shower cool off, it’d help against the heat.”

Silence took over the room as we avoided eye contact.

“Oh, well I’m going to go shower then,” I said breaking the silence, and turning to rush away, he grabbed my wrist stopping me in my tracks.

I looked down at his hand finally on my body where they belong. We stared in silence at the sight as if it was the first time either of us had ever been touched. Our eyes met in sync and I instinctively took a step closer to him.

“Look Y/N it ain’t that I don’t wanna-“

He was interrupted by the sound of a door banging, we separated immediately.

Moving ourselves as far from one another as possible.

“Oh hey guys, how did the interview go Y/N?” Rosita said with a smile on her face. She wasn’t looking up, she had her eyes focused on her shirt, it looked like she was attempting to rub out a rather large stain.

“Yeah it was fine thank you,” I said rushed, with a hint of embarrassment to my voice.

“That’s good, I hope she didn’t push you too hard, I know you don’t-“ when she finally looked up she paused for a second looking between me and Daryl, perhaps confused as to why we were so distanced.

“You both okay?” She said, there was a slight smirk on her face and an almost suggestive tone.

“Yep” we both said immediately.

“I need to shower!” I had practically rushed up the stairs before I could even finish my sentence.

I spent 20 minutes just feeling the cool water against my body, washing away all the grease and mud that had built up after weeks of travelling. As I ran my hand through my hair a certain someone entertained my thoughts. The thought of his hand on my wrist, his rough calloused fingers exploring my body. My neck, my chest, my-

“Ughh” I mumbled with annoyance.

“What is wrong with me?!” I muttered angrily to myself before turning off the shower.

The sun was setting by the time I finished up, I left the bathroom almost completely ready for bed, aside from the fact I needed to grab I change of clothes.

The bathroom and bedroom were right next to each other so I assumed it’d be safe. I scanned the hallway making sure no one was there before rushing into the bedroom and lightly closing the door behind me as not to wake Judith.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I turned around preparing to change but was immediately distracted.

Noticing a scarred back infront of me, my eyes widened, completely entranced by his moves, wondering how just a back can hold so much beauty yet still so much pain.

“Wow,” I whispered to myself as my breath hitched.

He must’ve heard because his head spun round.

“Shit what the hell Y/N?!”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” I said quickly turning around.

“Y/N!” He yelled, I looked back to him confused, only seeing the back of his head and his tinted red ears.

“What’s wrong?” I said suddenly concerned.

“Ya- ya towel, it uh- it ain’t quite long enough.” He stuttered as he said it, I’d never heard him tongue tied before.

“Fuck!”

I scrambled grab some clothes from the drawer. Throwing on some clean underwear and clothes the community had gifted us.

“You can turn now” I muttered still embarrassed.

“Sorry I wouldn’t have changed here if I knew this is where ya clothes are, Rosita said ma clothes were left here.”

“It’s fine, it’s my fault, I should’ve knocked.”

After a few awkward seconds of silence, I finally broke it, “before, when Rosita came in, what were you going to say?“

He turned a deeper shade of red, it was fun to see him be the mess for once.

“Ya cant guess?” After that line I took a dangerous amount of steps close to him.

“Please Daryl?” By this point i was almost stood on his toes, mere inches apart.

“Fine.” He let out a low huff before continuing “you’re playing a dangerous game Sunshine… But we can’t…”

“Says who?” I remarked quickly.

“Me, it wouldn’t be smart.” He said with such authority that I almost believed him but I could still sense the uncertainty beneath it.

“Say you don’t want me and I’ll leave,”

He opened his mouth but closed it just as quickly.

“It’s not smart,”

“Come on Daryl, you know I don’t care about whether it’s smart or not. Just say the words and I’ll go.”

“Y/n“ he said my name with such longing and desperation, I felt it in my core.

“Say it” I let out in a pained sigh.

I searched his face for any sign of pain or discomfort but all I noticed was his eyes on my lips.

“We shouldn’t,” he muttered, quickly contradicting himself by leaning towards me. His eyes lifted to mine as if for approval before shifting back to my lips. I leaned almost closing the distance, leaving less than an inch between us.

“Fuck it” he said, colliding his lips with mine in a rushed manner, as if either one us could disappear at any second.

He placed rushed kisses against my jaw before reaching my neck. He was certainly skilled to say the least. His teeth slightly nipped against my skin leaving small bruises, I softly moaned as he did so. His hands searched my body, one tightening around my waist the other travelling to my neck. His grip slightly tightened as he moved towards my ear, I could feel the heat radiating from his mouth.

“Are my hands finally where you want them,” he whispered with a smirk.

#daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead #rosita espinosa

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changbinlov3r · 8 months

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Spencer Reid doesn't know how to swim

Summary: after an exhausting case the BAU goes to Rossi's summer house to relax for the weekend, no one knows that Spencer doesn't know how to swim and you are willing to help him keep it that way.

Genre: fluff, smut. +18 - Minors DNI

Warnings: piv, masturbation(f receiving), dirty talk, praise, a little bit of choking, no protection or birth control mentioned, the author doesn't know how to swim too, that's why she doesn't describe Y/N's teachings.

Word count: 2.136

A/N1: this is my try on the @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge ☀️

Prompt: character doesn't know how to swim.

A/N2: I'm not a native english speaker and this is my first time attempting to post a fanfic in another language so please be nice. This is my first time writing a oneshot too, so I hope it's not that bad.

It's hot. Really really hot. You can't remember a summer where you struggled so much like this one. But after finishing your last case, Rossi invited the entire team and their families to spend the weekend in his vacation house.

You are so excited after seeing some pictures, he has a huge pool and the house is super close to the beach too. After so much traveling in the jet, it is nice to go on a road trip, with the windows open and the wind blowing your hair.

With Rossi driving, Penelope in the passenger seat and in the backseat Spencer and you, the trip has everything to go smoothly. However, you can't help but notice that Spencer is acting kinda strange and he looks nervous, but the doc always looks lost when he goes to some place new.

When everyone arrives the sun is already setting, so it's decided that today would be for settling down and have dinner, the beach could wait till morning.

The house is bigger than you expected, you could scream from a side and someone on the other side wouldn't hear you. There is a huge garden in the front, with so many flowers near the windows, it's going to be nice waking up in the morning and smelling the perfume. You always knew Rossi was rich but a summer house with 12 rooms is another level of rich.

You choose the one in the first floor where you saw the flowers by the window, it's near the kitchen too if you need to wake up in the middle of the night to drink water or have a snack.

After some delicious past that Rossi made for dinner, everyone was sleepy, so one by one everyone was retiring to their rooms.

Two hours after you wished good night to everyone and took your leave, you are looking for a bikini in your bag. You always loved pools, much more than the beach, so everytime you have a chance to spend some time in the pool, you feel happy like a child.

Opening your room's door, you look to both sides of the corridor making sure no one is there. You aren't doing something to be ashamed of, but you still feel embarrassed being this happy about something so simple while the other adults are acting their age. So you go in the backyard's direction, holding the towel covering you.

The water is cooler than you expected since it was so hot during the day, but it's good anyway, you like the refreshing feeling. The pool is big enough to fit all the team and their families and in the middle there is a bridge that goes from a side to another.

You see something underneath the bridge and even though you are a fan of horror movies, you still go checking what is it you saw. Relief washes over you when upon closer look you see it was Spencer hiding in the shadows.

"You scared the shit out of me, Reid", you say, smiling.

"Sorry, I just hid when I heard someone coming", he says not looking at you.

"Why would you hide?", You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

"Well...", he finally looks at you and he seems... Embarrassed?

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to", you say feeling like you are meddling in something you shouldn't be.

He takes a deep breath.

"I... I actually don't know how to swim, so I was trying to practice a little bit to not embarrass myself in front of everyone else", he blurts out.

Oh.

That's kinda cute.

"Do you want some help?", You ask and he stares at you like you are not making sense.

"Aren't you going to tease me? A grown ass man who doesn't know how to swim?"

You chuckle.

"Have I ever made fun of you?", You ask and he shakes his head.

"No, never"

"Than, there's no reason for me to begin now", you get closer to him, "I'm offering help because in fact I worked as a swimming instructor every summer during high school, so I can be a huge help"

"Oh, I didn't know about that", he says and you notice he's blushing.

You were never this close with him physically, even at work you try to keep your distance from him. You are sure neither him or the rest of the team know about the little crush you have on him.

It began soon after you entered the BAU, you always liked smart man and Spencer was the full package: smart, kind and handsome. So you couldn't help feeling attracted to him. Of course you knew he wouldn't be willing to jeopardize his career to date you, so you put your feelings aside, kept going on with your life and meeting people that were not him.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, doctor", you smile and you can see him furrowing his brows, confused. But it's better to change the subject. "So, are you going to accept my help?", you ask and he nods.

"Yeah"

"Let's begin then", you say and starts to explain the basics to him.

It's no surprise at all that Spencer learns everything quickly, jut by looking he can replicate exactly what you do. So it takes less than two hours for him to get the hold of it. It was nice, getting closer and checking his breathing to see if he was doing it right, touching him with no fear of being rejected, smelling his scent of cinnamon even after hours in the water. No guilt.

"To finish the lesson, let's make a bet. The one that gets in the other side of the pool first can make a wish and the other one has to fulfill it. Let's see if you can win", you say and he nods. You both go to the front of the pool and begin to swim after you count to three.

You were sure you would win, you have much more experience than him. But when you come back to the surface you bump right into Spencer's chest.

"It looks like the student has become the master", he says sliding his hands to your hips.

"Whoa, I didn't think I would lose", you say confused about what his hands were doing there.

Spencer comes closer and closer.

"Now you have to fulfill my wish", he whisper in your ear, his voice is different, it's deeper.

"Hm... Yeah, what do you want?", You are embarrassed and blushing, all the work you did trying to hide your crush was going down the drain. You are so close he can surely hear you heartbeat.

"I want you to answer my question sincerely", you nod, "did you put this bikini that can barely cover you, to tease me?"

You feel your face hot, you're so embarrassed you can die. You begin to struggle to get away from him but he grabs your hips to keep you still. You wouldn't use this bikini in the beach tomorrow with the other people from your team there, you had other more descent swimsuits for that but you did chose the smaller one to come to the pool tonight in hopes that you would meet Spencer wandering in the house and you would let your towel slip while talking to him, you wanted him to see you, see what he could have if he made the first move but you didn't want him to see right through your plan, he shouldn't know what you really wanted.

"Keep your word", he says, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him, "answer my question honestly, that's my wish"

You feel a warm feeling coming from your core. You are excited, aroused because of the situation you're in and the dominance Spencer is showing.

You nod, expecting that to be enough for him, but he smirks diabolically.

"I want to hear you say it, every word"

You blush, thinking of a way to scape but his right hand is firm on your hip and the other one is still holding your face.

"Y-yes, I wore this for you"

Before you can feel embarrassed, his lips come crashing on yours and his hands slid down grabbing your ass, making your legs wrap around his waist. His tongue enter your mouth making you moan to the feeling. You feel Spencer moving and a few seconds later you feel your back being pressed against the pool's wall, you whimper to the feeling of his arousal pressed against your pussy.

He takes one of his hands to your head caressing your cheek before grabbing your hair and pulling it, leaving your neck exposed, he kisses there and goes down your collarbone.

He sucks and licks your covered nipples making you moan louder than you should taking in consideration that all of your team were sleeping in the house.

"Hearing you moan it's music to my ears", he says looking deeply in your eyes, "you're so beautiful"

You don't know what to do, you still can't take in on what's actually happening. Are you really making out with Spencer in Rossi's pool?

"What are you doing, Spencer?", you don't actually want him to stop, but you don't want him to make a dumb decision just because he is horny. "If we keep going there's no turning back"

"Who says I want to go back?", He says sliding his hand to your panties and putting it aside, he brushes his fingers in your folds. You have to repress a moan, he smiles inserting a finger in your pussy, you drop your head, leaning on him and biting his shoulder. He begins to circle your clit making you whimper. You wrap your arms around his neck pressing your nails on his back.

"Fuck", your hips begin to react by themselves, rocking in his fingers.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to fuck you", he whispers, biting your ear. "I had to watch you go out with so many idiots knowing very well I am everything you need"

"Ah... Spence... please", you can't form a logical thought, you feel like you're going to lose your mind if you don't cum.

"Yes, you're going to scream my name soon enough", he takes his fingers of and you feel empty, your eyes opening, you ready to scold him but before you can open your mouth, you fill the head of his cock in your entrance and he thrusts into you. It felt like you were being torn apart and you bite his shoulder so hard you feel the taste of blood in your mouth.

"Fuck, Reid", he isn't moving yet, "please", you ask and he starts rocking his hips, thrusting so hard you didn't though it was possible.

"I always wandered how it would feel to be inside of you", he grunts, his voice almost cracking, "if feels like heaven, I could fuck you for the rest of my life and I would be the happiest man alive"

You take his hand from your hair and puts it in your throat letting him know what you want, Spencer wrap his fingers around your neck just enough to make it difficult to breath.

Everything is so overwhelming, all the feelings you're having, him fucking you so hard, his words, the feel of something growing in your lower stomach, you feel like exploding with pleasure.

"Reid... I-I'm going to...", you can't even finish the sentence before your climax arrives, you let out a loud moan and your legs tremble. You're only able to stay in the surface because Reid is holding you.

You feel his thrusts losing strength and soon he groans, moaning deeply and filling you up.

You two stay still for a couple more minutes, before he distances himself. Now he looks like the Spencer you see everyday, he's flustered.

And you're too.

"I'm sorry", he says looking you in the eyes. "I shouldn't have left my feelings take control"

You feel strangely offended by his statement.

"What do you mean?"

He takes a deep breath.

"I always knew you wouldn't want to risk your career because of romance, so I decided to not ask you out... but now I ruined it"

"Who said I wouldn't be willing to risk it to date you?", you smile, getting closer to you.

"Well... I thought..."

"You thought it wrong"

"So... Hm... Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?", He asks and you smile, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

"More than anything"

#mentioningmargins #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid

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macaroonff · 10 months

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☀️ Sunscreen- Hwang Hyunjin

Another repost

Genre: Summer love, College AU. Beach AU. Friends + roommates to lovers, Fluff Pairing: Hyunjin x Gender Neutral Reader Content Warnings: Mention of stress, pls lmk what else to add Word Count: 1179 words

Song Rec: Sunscreen by Nathanie

In the warmth that the afternoon sun emitted and the one that you reflected, you hoped the thick layer of sticky lotion smothered across your face could prevent your flustered cheeks from being noticed.

Noticed by the one person who could truly break all your defences and upheld pretence, even if all it took was one enthralling gaze.

Hwang Hyunjin was a cohabitant to your messy dorm and an awfully close acquaintance of over two years. He was more on the ingenious side, and you desperately hoped your crush on him would be as inconspicuous as you made it out to be.

However, what Hyunjin hoped for was that the prominent deep tinge on your visage wasn't that of a sunburn caused by the blistering star.

He should’ve been more considerate than asking you to the beach in the scorching afternoon sun and now that he realises, he never once bothered you with the plans. You watch as he collects a sizeable amount of sunscreen into a lather in his palm before gently dabbing it onto your face, especially your cheeks.

What he does see instead is the opposite of the result he sought, as you couldn’t control the observable blush from spreading; his tenderness catching you off guard.

“Ah I don't need any more of that Hyunjin,” you whisper hurriedly, removing his hands from your face.

Hyunjin stood in silence, contemplating whether he should bring out the parasol from the car but chooses not to as he sees you wiping the lotion off in a hurry, gathering that it wasn’t necessary. He lets out a sigh, then sits down on the blanket, questioning whether he had been reckless in his action, praying it didn’t make you uncomfortable seeing the quiet that you remained in for the rest of the time.

"Let me know if you're not feeling okay." He finally mutters to which you give him a reassuring smile.

You knew you wouldn't feel okay. Not when you were unsuccessful at keeping yourself at bay. If you could, you’d have yourself floating along the inshore waves, trying to run away from embarrassing yourself.

But you also acknowledge that Hyunjin wouldn’t judge you. You didn’t have to panic.

You sigh, echoing Hyunjin’s ones. You lay back on the blanket, closing your eyes, hiding your face behind the shadows of his nonchalant posture, happy at the temporary shield from the sun.

“I feel like we haven’t had quality time together like this in months.” he whispers, and you feel him looking at you by the way the shadows shift away from your abdomen.

“With our lectures and assignments taking away our souls, I’m surprised we even get to eat dinner together,” you say squinting at him from in between your half open palm, taking in the sight of his focused eyes as he questions your statement.

“You mean ramen? I wouldn’t call that dinner”

You shrug. It was whatever you could manage in between your hectic schedule.

“Maybe we should treat ourselves to better food someday” he says laying a blanket as it got chillier after a while

“Mhm.” you agree

He lays down beside you finally as you listen to the waves greeting the shore behind the second silence. “Hyunjin?” you whisper, assuming he’d fallen asleep.

“Yes?” he replies, completely turning towards you, resting his head on his hand.

You gulp before gathering the courage to ask him your next question. “What would be the best way to confess to someone without being awkward?” you pop out of the blue.

He raises his eyebrow before giggling to himself.

“You have a crush? Now why wasn’t I informed about this?” he teases you and adjusts the blanket over you, seeing you tremble a little.

You break eye contact, a little shy as you find yourself melting again. Hyunjin didn’t miss your little smile and noticed the warmth spread across your cheeks. This time he could discern its meaning as his eyes travel all over your face, looking for other hints of love.

“Seeing you blush like that, it must be a massive one.”

“I suppose it is,” you whisper, careless of your indirect confession. Yes, you had a fat crush on him, and nothing he did would help you forget that.

“Who’s the lucky person?” he finally asks, curious, and if he was honest, worried. If he had correctly picked up on your hints, and if it wasn’t just him overthinking and pining for it to be true, he wished it was him. Because slowly he too got wrapped up in your company, he enjoyed it to a point where all he looked forward to in a day was going back to your room and having ramen together. It was the highlight he craved everyday, it was the comfort he required when he was stressed. He wasn’t sure he could call it love, but when he didn’t exactly know what love was, he found this to be the closest definition.

You knew this question would come sooner or later, but now that you hear it, you find it difficult to be honest. How would you ever tell him you liked him?

“Well answer my question first, how should one confess?”

Hyunjin smiles and takes your hand in his, your sweaty palms engulfed in closure.

“I’d do it like this, I’d start by making sure we’re alone when I confess, and that my crush is comfortable with it. Then I’d be direct with my confession.”

“Easy for you to say, you’d get anyone you ever wanted,” you mutter in desperation.

“Well, in that case;" he pauses, "I love you y/n. For so long I wished to confess, but we were swept away by work and time, just like those waves,” he finally lets out, looking at the water along the horizon, trying to avoid your eyes.

You were stunned. Nowhere in your wildest dreams would you hope to hear these words, especially not from him. But you knew this wasn’t a dream despite the deceivingly dreamlike scene, the unreal situation. You find his eyes awkwardly staring at the sand as you try to discern the reality of his confession.

“You’re not joking are you?”

“I’m dead serious y/n.”

The shaky breath you let out only confused Hyunjin further. Was he being delusional? Was he being too direct with it? Maybe now wasn’t the best time? He almost regretted it until he felt your fingers on his chin, lifting his face until he saw the smile on your face.

“Good. Because I love you too Hyunjin, and I feel so very lucky right now; I can’t even explain it.”

He mirrors your smile, except his is wider. He pulls you into the tightest hug you had ever been buried in. “I’m so glad y/n,” he whispers while kissing the top of your head.

Both of you knew it was the truth, and in a long time you felt giddy at the thought of what was to come. It was like a reward after the long stressful weeks and it couldn’t have been better.

#stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fanfiction #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #stray kids fluff #Spotify

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accio-victuuri · 7 months

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SBMS Clowning Series ☀️ v.6 { finale }

It was a good run and we have been fed very well. if something else comes up then i’ll post an extras version of this clowning series. ^^

recap : version one / two / three / four / five 💓

this scene at the finale, where they won a production award and jian bing was making her speech. how she said that last year, she gained a good production partner ( referring to shengyang ) and like you could tell that it wasn’t just work related that’s she is talking about. it reminds us of that time in TTXS where WYB said that in the past year, he gained a good friend — XZ. and like we (cpfs) believe that it’s more than that, they both gained a life partner.

this is another example of what seems to be a trend in this drama. lol. maybe because it’s modern so they can use these scenes & lines. i don’t know. the coincidences and similarities of things that happened to them irl making it in the drama is something we can’t ignore.

• In XZ studio’s post, they shared more behind the scenes photos and the caption:

when you encounter a beam of light named shengyang, remember to return him to the sun☀️

it’s similar to what zz said before in an interview when talking about WWX. He said, return him to the one he loves ( LWJ ).

there is also a photo where you could see the number 9. It’s actually 19, which is in reference to the event his character in the show is attending. they blurred out almost all of the background to emphasize on him so why leave the 9? Maybe they can cause the big event in the finale is this award and him going onstage with Jian Bing. I’m a clown so the 9 is a great coincidence because who just celebrated their 9th debut anniversary???

• GG’s finale post on his weibo account too. Let’s clown on the time of posting, 19:50 9/5. Also how he mentions the sun which is supposedly to describe Shengyang and the name of the show itself. But the photo he shared is that of a sunflower. He really loves it. It’s why 🌻 is such a favorite symbol among BXGs!

( if you have no idea about sun/sunflower cpn then go here and here )

BONUS: shengyang x shuoshuo SZD 💟 ( similar pose! )

• Some more similarities between XZS and YBO editing 🙃

My favorite would have to be p4. The videos they both posted today had “easter eggs” at the end. So you thought it’s all over, but they include another snippet of them.

and another bonus on that YBO vlog, if you asked baidu what yibo is looking at. the scenery, a related topic will come up and it’s a XZS vlog.

omg even baidu knows 😂😂😂😂

• Spotted. A new water bottle they have that’s the same. Remember that Yibo’s skateboard video is not new. The Asian Games MV was filmed last year. Sooo…. They use other stuff that’s not Bottled Joy 😂😂😂😂

It’s so plain looking that you can’t really tell but i think that’s the purpose. Knowing how they were exposed with the whole “bottled joy” saga when XZ was filming YGY.

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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leonaluv · 1 month

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rohini

Rohini -"The reddish one"The star of Rohini is in the constellation ♉ and Aldebaran color rose. Star that is characterized by the eye of the Bull Taurus Animal symbol. Rohini Animal symbol is the snake 🐍 and the snake is symbolic of wisdom or salvation.

Snake is seen as a great force of nature and can be good/evil. When you look into the eyes of a snake you are said to be lead into a trance. The natives of these sign can be able to have great magnetic/hypotonic gaze

Rohini's favorite wife of Chandra(Moon). He ignores his other 27 wives (nak) and later has to be taught a lesson. In the story, Malena is a beautiful woman who lives alone while her husband is away for war. The woman in the town is jealous. Hwasa pays homage to the scene above.

In the teasers, the pictures are a red theme. Her album cover is the image of a snake too. She performs this on Mamas first in purple (merged of lower &higher mind). She gets touch by the water awakening her. Then the men circle her closing her in.

She emerges out in all black with a gold snake on her.

Hwasa a Korean singer has tattooed for protection. "In modern times, the triquetra symbol... as a symbol of anything three-fold e.g. the cycle of life (life-death-rebirth), the promise of a husband to his wife (love-honor-protect), the family"…

Jimin has his moon in this position and the mv black swan. The deity Brahma vehicle is the swan. Rohini man in kpop can be known for their cute image.

Once people meet them they are seen as the exact opposite .

Both of them were in the top three of brand rankings. Kang Daniel was #1 sun conjunct moon. Jimin being lift by Jungkook in white. Rohini people are charming, sensual, and can be the center of attention in a room. The man often hypes themselves up and like to uplift the mood.

Hwasa comeback being associate with pink the color associated with rohini her moon . Comeback about to be huge 💗😎

Finish Assassin's Creed 3💙 Conner has Mer in Purva Bhadrapada ♒ Amtakaraka. 🌟of tremendous perseverance. He lost his mom when he during his mars/Saturn Dasa. Sasa yoga Sa in Kendra results in wandering leader of free spirit. Connor prob my fav assassin never abuse his power.

I was looking into Rohini /Ardra today he has Rohini sun & Mercury.

Him surrounded by luxury cars 🚘 . The. Last picture him in bondage (Ashelsha Rahu) Ketu cap sravana.

was thinking that Park jihoon had to be Visakha and I watch the GQ interview knew he was. Moon in libra Visakha " I have a scary personality like a tiger " 🐯 Tiger is the animal symbol.

Dr. Pai mentions how the natives love pink and the man like light pink.

Park Jihoon's favorite color pink ☀️ in Rohini. Rohini nakshatra bird is an owl. Vanoss's gaming moon in this position has an owl as his symbol. He has 25.3 million subs.

Just Rohini man eyes 👀 gaze

Rohini in Taurus in the sign venus ~ "Beauty is the eye of the beholder"

Raven - Taurus -Rohini Moon & Sun in aries Ashwini she had to deal with her egoistic father. Finally, breaking free from him and it interesting how Rohini ladies in sci-fi tend to have these crazy powers. Portray is a girl who knows nothing, but can destroy the world easily.

#rohini #astrology #moon #vedic astrology #titans #park jihoon #kpop tarot #bts #bts tarot #bts jimin #ji #jimin tarot

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m0uchie · 9 days

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Okay so I was just thinking.. What about Cyno with a younger sister who's like Nezuko? (She wears a bamboo muzzle and is a demon) but she can go in the sun ☀️

Cyno takes him on a patrol with her but ends up having to carry her all the way back :p

(And she has a pyro vision)

You don't have to do this but I think it would be really cute!!! Thanks girl, love you <3

𐙚 cyno with a younger sister who’s an oni

— warnings : angstyyy?; fluff in general, but it’s not so good

— a/n : I didn’t mention the fact that she’s a demon much, and drifted off from your ask a bit, but it still sounds so sweet to me him having a younger sister and taking care of her 😭 AND I LOVE YOU TOO!! TYSM FOR THIS 🫶

Cyno may not have the same personality as Tanjiro (they are very different to be honest), but he sounds like a super protective person to me just like Xiao. Not very sweet and with a gentle voice, but he cares on the same level about his younger sister because he loves her very much and doesn't want anything bad to happen to her.

Everyone knows Cyno for working alone, so much so that in the story quest itself they didn't expect him to be accompanied by the traveler.

So I imagine that him with a younger sister would be similar. He makes her stand back while he fights and even though he insists on doing everything on his own, she would get involved because she cares about him to the same extent that he cares about her!! :D

I also imagine he reprehending her for being so stubborn and always getting involved. He would spend the whole way reminding her how much of an airhead she is. Like “honestly, what do I do with you?” and giving long lessons, being tough in general even though everything worked out with her involvement.

However, at the end of the day, she knows that he has a very soft heart and always ends up carrying her when he finishes his missions. She gets tired of having to catch up with him when he takes such huge steps on the way home (even though he tried to go slower so she can keep up).

His harsh nature would bring doubts one day. “Am I a burden to him?” and she would slowly move away, always lying down and closing her eyes when he approached, making it seem like she was too tired to leave when he called for patrols.

He acts indifferent and leaves her be. It hurts a little, but soon Cyno realizes the difference she makes when she's not there. And it’s not good. All the time feeling uneasy for being separated from his sister for so long, even though there was a trustworthy person who could keep an eye on her for him.

He was bothered by how long the missions seemed to take without her presence, she who finished off the bandits quite quickly and he always repeated that she was ruining the clues they had to follow. She didn't understand what the problem was if the case was practically solved when she nipped the evil in the bud.

“Is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” He finally asks when he comes home from one of his patrol days, and she feels slightly relieved that he's showing concern because it's been bothering her for a while.

For him, it was enough for her to shake her head “yes” and “no”, but for her, it was suffocating not to be able to ask what was in the back of her mind: “Am I a burden to you?”

This time, she just shakes her head “no” to “are you feeling unwell?” and she starts to accompany him again when he leaves at sunrise. Feelings pile up in her chest until she gets tired and lets tears escape at his harsh tone of voice as he scolds her again, promptly closing her wrists and wiping her face, but it was too late to hide it.

He can't help but be surprised and hurt, although he knows the reason for those tears. He caresses her head lightly, and tries to ease all the tension and worries she has been carrying on her shoulders.

“I just want your well-being, please don’t be mad at me.” She scrunched her face at this, after all, he wasn't the only one who had someone to protect and he needed to get used to the fact that they only had each other at the end of it all. She wasn’t weak and just needed teaching and patience.

But there was nothing she could say other than making sounds in displeasure. He understood what she wanted to say, he didn't need words, but it hurt to know that she was struggling because of him, struggling because she couldn’t say anything, and struggling because he was trying to protect her too much.

From that day on, he hesitantly lets her get more involved in his business, calmly teaching her what he can, clearing his throat and changing the harsh words he was about to say to her every time.

She always listened attentively to Cyno's teachings, nodding her head to everything he said. Coincidentally, their visions were made for each other, finishing off the bandits in a second. It wasn’t that bad now.

And when she was struggling not to close her eyes as she walked back behind him (but she still would), he would quickly turn to catch her body before she collided with the ground, carrying her princess style without uttering a word to not disturb her peaceful sleep.

He would go to the end of the world so that she could become human again and not have to go through any difficulties, so that she would never again have to hold such complicated feelings inside her heart. On that day, he would let her take out all the frustrations stored on him, let her scream and say everything that was stuck. Nothing will make him happier than hearing her voice again. Even if she’s nagging at him.

#𝜗𝜚 [ m0uchie posts! ]#꒰ requests ꒱ྀི #cyno fluff #cyno angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #demon slayer

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crazyunsexycool · 1 year

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The Sun ☀️, the Moon 🌙 & the Stars ✨

Chapter 8: Clear skies

Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Alpha!Sam Wilson x Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: some fluff, mentions of nightmare,

A/N: look who finally decided to update this series. This is a bit of a filler chapter. Trust me when I say next chapter will get spicy 👀👀👀👀

Series masterlist

Ch. 7

The date with Bucky was spent dancing, drinking wine and being completely honest with each other. He told you of his fears of losing you when you realized that he was a monster. That fear had bled into him losing Steve and Sam if he messed something up between the two of you. It was a bit of a heavy topic but it was a conversation that had to happen and you were afraid that you wouldn’t get another opportunity. You on the other hand explained your own fears, what if you weren’t a good enough omega. HOr they realized they didn’t need you. By the end of the night you both realized you had nothing to really worry about. You reassured Bucky you weren’t afraid of him and he assured you that neither him nor Steve and Sam would ever make you feel less than. The date ended with Bucky dropping you off at Mrs. Levy’s apartment and him giving you a sweet kiss.

That had been a week ago. Now you’re still adjusting to having a better relationship. This moment for example in which you stand in the dark in your room while someone knocks on your door. It was around 1:00 am and you know it’s not any of your neighbors, you barely even knew them. Still you can’t help but make your way to the door to check and sure enough you see Bucky standing on the other side.

“Bucky? What are you doing here? Is everything ok?” You ask as you open the door.

“I’m sorry darling. I tried to call you and it was going straight to voicemail and Sam and Steve are out on a mission so I started walking around the city..” he started to ramble, he looked so tired. You noticed he was wearing sweatpants along with a gray t-shirt, his leather jacket and boots.

“Hey it’s ok, come on in.” You open the door wider to let him in before shutting it again. “Do you want something to drink?”

Bucky shakes his head as he walks toward the couch in your living room.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have just shown up, you were probably sleeping.” He sighs. “It’s just I’ve been having nightmares.” He admits.

“It’s ok, you can always come find me, no matter what time it is.”

You sit next to him and place your hand on his back and start making some soothing circles.

“Are you tired?” He nods again and you take his hand in yours. Bucky moves when you tug his hand and follows you down the hall to your room.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going to bed. You’re tired and I have to work. We need sleep.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea, darling. What about my nightmares? What if I hurt you?”

“I trust you. Now come on.” You pull on his hand but he doesn’t move.

“It’s your nest. Are you sure?”

“It’s just my bed, I don’t have a nest. And yes I’m sure.” Bucky stands in the doorway as he watches you sit at the edge of your bed, still unsure of what to do. But then you look at him and give him a sweet, tired smile and he almost melts.

Once you’ve checked your phone and plugged it in to charge you get comfortable in bed. You pat the empty space next to you but he still hesitates. You don’t rush him, instead you pull back the covers on that side and sink down further until you’re laying down. Bucky finally moves, taking off his leather jacket, boots and gloves, he finally sits at the edge of the empty side.

“Come on, hun. You need to rest.” You coo sweetly and he finally gives in. Bucky settles between your cool sheets, his head on the pillow and he sighs.

“Your bed isn’t too soft, I like it.”

“Good, now C’mere.” You open your arms to him and this time he gets closer willingly. His nose brushes up against your neck and he takes in your sweet, calming scent while one of your hands makes its way into his hair. The more you play with his hair the more he relaxes against you. “Good night, honey.” You say as you kiss his forehead.

“G’night, darlin’”

You smile as Bucky’s breathing finally evens out.

The smell of coffee wakes you up. You sit up suddenly alert, worried that someone was in your apartment before you remember that Bucky showed up during the night. His gloves are still where he left them and so is his jacket. You stretch before getting out of bed and head to the kitchen.

Bucky stands at the stove with a spatula in one hand and a plate in the other as he serves up whatever he made.

“Are you going to stand there and stare all day?” He teases without looking at you.

“How did you even know?”

“Your scent, and I heard your footsteps. Also your breathing gave you away, you’re being too loud if you’re trying to sneak up on someone.”

“I wasn’t trying to sneak around.”

“So you were just ogling me?” He turns around to finally look at you while sending a smile your way.

“Maybe, and I’m not even sorry about it.”

Bucky laughs as he sets the plate down on the counter.

“Eat.”

You look at the clock on the stove and realize you have a few minutes to spare before you have to get ready for work so you dig in. Bucky walks up behind you and places his hands on your hip as he looks over your shoulder to make sure you’re eating everything. You grab a forkful and offer it up to him, he hums in approval of his food.

“This is really good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome darling.” He says before he peppers kisses along your shoulder and neck.

“Ok I have to go get ready for work.” You turn in his arms and pull him down to give him a quick kiss.

“I’ll drop you off at work, if that’s ok.”

“I’d like that.” You smile and disappear into your room.

“Ophelia you’re back.” You take quick steps toward her so that you can enter the building together.

“Yeah, I was going crazy in my apartment and the doctor cleared me.”

“That’s good. The second floor is a mess without you. Are you ready to start some shit?”

She looks up at you and her smile turns into a scowl. “Hell yeah I am.”

You laugh as you both reach the door. Both Ricky and Jonah are standing close by. Ricky pushes the door open and Mrs. Levy walks in first.

“Morning Ricky.” She smiles up at him and pats Jonah on his arm as she walks by. “Morning Jonah.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Levy.” They reply in unison before looking at you confused.

“Hi boys.”

“Hey. We have a meeting this morning before we open. Conference room B.” Jonah says to both of you.

“Do you know what it’s about?”

Ricky and Jonah look at each other and step closer to your desk, waving Mrs. Levy over as well.

“Don’t say anything to anyone but someone tried to break in last night.” Jonah whispers.

“What for?”

“No idea. Mr. Burke is going to give us some rules while the police investigate.”

“Could it have been the same person that attacked me?” Mrs. Levy asked, she looked scared.

“Honestly we aren’t sure. But don’t worry, we won’t let what happened last time happen again.” Jonah reassured her. “Why don’t I walk you up to your desk?”

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

Jonah offers her his arm and she gladly takes it before walking down the hallway. You turn and start putting your purse away before getting ready for the morning meeting.

“Should we be worried?” You asked Ricky. He sighed as he leaned against the countertop.

“I think everyone needs to be more aware of their surroundings. I would even suggest you ask your alphas for more self defense lessons, just to be safe.”

“You could have just said yes.” You say while pulling out your phone and messaging Sam, Steve and Bucky in the group chat.

“Sorry, sweets. Now come on, let's get to this meeting.”

“Good morning everyone.” Mr. Burke said from the front of the room. “I know this is a last minute meeting and I appreciate everyone for being able to join.” He clears his throats before he continues. “Last night our alarm system went off and I, along with Jonah our head of security, were called in and met with some police officers. They made us aware that someone tried to break into our facility. Now I know we had an attempted break a couple of years back and it was really nothing to worry about. This is different. Both Y/N and Mrs. Levy were physically assaulted and that is unacceptable. So until the cops are able to make an arrest we will have some ground rules that Jonah will explain.”

“Thank you Mr. Burke. We have spoken with the local precinct and they have agreed to have a couple of uniformed officers at our doors in the mornings before we open and the evenings after we close. If you have to leave at a later time please let me know so that we can have a security guard stay behind. We also want to put in place a buddy system, someone that you can walk in and out of work with until this is resolved. Does anyone have questions?”

“What if they don’t catch whoever did this?” Someone asks from the back of the room.

“Well our hope is that someone is caught soon. Jonah and myself are working on a plan to keep us safe. Any other questions.”

No one said anything but there were whispers among the staff. Mrs. Levy leaned into you and asked if you’d be her buddy and you of course agreed.

Other than the meeting and the worry about someone trying to hurt another coworker or trying to get some type of information the day was uneventful. At around noon you received a text from Bruce asking if you’d come to the tower after work.

“Hey, Sweets. We need to talk.” Jonah says while he walks towards your desk with Ricky right behind him.

“What’s up?”

“Well, Ricky and I have been talking. Since everything with Bucky went well I think it’s time.”

“For what?” You look up at him in confusion.

“For the pack dinner. You know it’s a tradition.”

“Oh come on are you kidding me?”

“We agreed to this a long time ago. If one of us gets into a relationship we have some type of get together to make sure they’ll treat you right. We always do it with Ricky.”

“Yeah well it’s because he made dumb choices until he met Jules.” You smile.

“We’re doing it and that’s final,” Ricky pipes up. “And I have Sam’s number so I can just text him about it.”

“Ok, I’ll tell them but I get to pick what we do.”

“Fine. We just want to keep you safe, sweets. No need to get upset.”

“I know and I will always appreciate you for it.”

“Ok well now that that is settled we have to go do a perimeter check. Tell us what you picked.”

“I will.” You grumble.

When the day was done you accompanied Mrs. Levy back to her apartment before you headed to the tower.

“So you just wanted to do a check up?” You ask as you sit on the stool Bruce had pulled out for you.

“Yeah, your case is extraordinary and I’d like to record a few things as time goes on.”

“How extraordinary are we talking about here?”

“There aren’t a lot of documented cases like this. Most of them are really old and they didn’t have the technology we have at our disposal. This could be a great step in the right direction to help other people that are undesignated.”

You purse your lips as you think about it. On one hand you hated being in labs and anything that reminded you of doctors and medical procedures but on the other you remember what it feels like to think something is wrong with you.

“Will it be anything invasive?”

“No, just some scans of your neck and blood work. If we ever find something worth looking into we can sit down and talk about it then.” He informs you as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Ok, I’ll do it.”

“This is great Y/N you have no idea how many people this could help.”

“I hope it really does.”

Bruce moves to another station and you follow him, sitting on the chair he points at. He moves around grabbing whatever supplies he needs. The glass doors slide open behind you and the scent is an all too familiar one. You look over your shoulder to see Sam still in his tactical gear and a large case in his hands. He hasn’t realized that you’re there yet, it’s obvious he’s focused on finding someone.

“Banner?”

“In the back, Sam.”

You turn around completely and are met with Sam. His eyes light up when he realizes it’s you. He puts the case down on one of the tables before walking up to you and kissing you in that way that says I missed you.

“This is a nice surprise, what’s going on? Everything ok with you?”

“Yes, everything is ok. It’s just a check up and Bruce wants to do some research.”

“And you’re ok with that?” Sam looks over at Bruce.

“Yeah, it’s just a quick check up. It could help other people like me so why not.”

“Ok well, don’t leave when you’re done. Steve has been dying to see you too.” He gives you another quick kiss. “I’ll go shower and come back to get you ok.”

“I’d like that. I missed you.” You smile up at him.

“Miss you too sunshine.” Sam tells you before kissing your forehead. He turns to leave and says over his shoulder. “Take care of my girl Bruce.”

“Will do.” He pushes his glasses up his nose. “Shall we get started?”

You only nod in response.

“Oh wait,” you say just as Bruce was going to start drawing blood. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Since Bucky and Steve both have the serum, do you think regular birth control would work? That’s probably a stupid question.”

“No it isn’t. The short answer is I’m not sure. But I can run some tests and maybe develop something just for you.”

“I’d really appreciate that, thank you.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” He smiles at you.

Sam walks through the sliding doors of the lab freshly showered. His scent wraps deliciously around you the closer he gets.

“Are you done sunshine?”

“Yes, take me away from this horrible place.” You say before hugging him.

“I heard that.”

“You were meant to.” You could hear Bruce’s chuckle. Look up at Sam you say. “Ready when you are.”

“Let’s go.”

Sam intertwines his fingers with yours when he grabs your hand and pulls you out of the lab. In the elevator he stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. As the elevator moves up higher you can feel him scenting you. His nose moves along the top of your shoulder and toward your neck. You shiver when he gets to your mating gland.

“Sam.” you whine as you push yourself into him. The elevator dings and the doors open, effectively popping the little bubble you had created.

Sam smiles as he takes your hand and leads you down the hallway. He opens the door to his apartment and lets you walk in first. You shouldn’t be but you’re surprised how nice their apartment is. The decor is simple and the color palette is mostly neutrals or dark blues but the space is inviting and warm.

“There you are.” Steve says as he gets up from the couch and wraps his arms around your waist.

“Steve,” your arms wrap around his shoulders and you hide your face in the space between his neck and shoulder. You could feel how tense he was with how tightly he was holding on to you. “I missed you.”

“Miss you too sweetheart.”

“Hey darling, why didn’t you tell me you had an appointment? I would have picked you up.” Bucky says as he walks down the stairs to join the rest of you.

“Well Bruce messaged me around lunchtime and there’s this whole mess at work.” You say as you let Steve lead you to the couch. He pulls you onto his lap.

“What’s going on with work?”

You sigh and explain everything from the break in to the investigation and the buddy system they had put in place.

“I don’t know, it's just weird. We don’t keep a lot of money in there so why would anyone want to break in?”

“Do you have a lot of anything?”

You think through the services provided at the center. “Mostly information. We have our own type of social workers to help people fill out benefits or get help they need.”

“Maybe whoever broke in is looking for someone’s information. Especially if you keep paper copies.” Bucky offers.

You pull your phone out and you send Jonah a quick message.

“Have you had dinner yet?” Steve asks.

“Nope, I didn’t think you’d be back today so I was actually going to ask Bucky if he wanted to go out. But since you’re all here can we have dinner together?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart.”

“Alright let’s go make dinner boys, our cute omega is joining us.”

All four of you head to the kitchen, your offer to help is shut down immediately. Instead Steve picked you up with ease and sat you on the counter. The three alphas worked together effortlessly, moving around the kitchen like they’ve done it a hundred times before. They would stop in front of you and steal kisses or make you try something. Music played from a speaker they had set up. You joked and teased each other and for the first time in a long time you felt like you had a place in the world. When dinner was served Sam had pulled you into his lap instead of you sitting in your own chair.

“You’re just going to have to get used to being in our arms sunshine.” He said with a smile.

“Oh no, however will I cope with such a horrible fate.” You deadpanned and the three alphas chuckled. Clearing your throat you get their attention. “Actually there is something that I wanted to talk to you about.”

Sam, Bucky and Steve look at each other and then back at you. All of them straightening their postures.

“So you know that Jonah and Ricky and well Jules now too, they're my best friends and pack.” They nod along. “Well we have this thing where whoever is dating someone, we together to meet them just to make sure they’ll treat our friend right and fit into our pack.”

“But we already know each other.” Steve says both slightly confused and nervous that Jonah, Ricky and Jules might think they aren’t good enough for you.

“I know but it’s our tradition and it would mean so much to me. It’s like if you were meeting my family for the first time. It’s actually where I left from when we met Bucky. Jonah and I were meeting Jules for the first time. I get it if you can’t make it because of work. This was really dumb of me to ask you probably have more impor-“

“We’ll do it, Sunshine. Especially if it’s pimportant to you.”

“Absolutely.” Steve and Bucky agree and smile at you.

“Really?”

“Of course we’re sure. Just tell us when and where and we’ll be there.” Bucky sends a wink in your direction.

You sigh happily and start eating unaware of the three alphas with dopey grins. They were happy because you were happy and they couldn’t ask for anything more at the moment.

“So what is laser tag?”

“Buck, I have no clue.”

You were listening to the conversation happening in your living room and trying to stifle your laugh. Sometimes you’d forget that Steve and Bucky are literally almost 100 years old. So something like laser tag wouldn’t make sense to them.

“It’s not nice to make fun of our elders.” Sam walked up behind you. His strong arms wrapping around your waist. You laughed at his comment.

“They’re the hottest senior citizens I’ve ever seen.”

“You know we can hear you right.” Bucky leaned over just enough so that he could look at you.

“We know, and it’s time to go or we’ll be late.”

Steve and Bucky were out the door first, followed by Sam and you were last so that you could lock the door. As you step out into the hallway you tense up immediately and they notice. The spike of fear in your scent. There was a scent in the air that you didn’t necessarily recognize but still caused you to panic slightly. There was something about it that reminded you of your childhood.

“Hey sweetheart, look at me will you.” Steve’s hands cupped your face softly. He guided you so that your eyes would meet his and he could see as well as smell your fear. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I-I don’t kn-know. The sc-scent?” You stuttered through what you were trying to say.

“Ok, it’s ok. Maybe it’s a new neighbor or someone visiting. But let’s calm you down first ok.”

You nod. Steve pulls you into his chest and you inhale his familiar and comforting scent. He tells you to take another deep breath while Sam locks your door. Bucky was already walking down the hallway trying to decipher where that scent was coming from but even with his enhanced sense of smell he couldn’t find the source.

“Do you want to cancel today? We can call Jonah and let him know.” Steve offered but you shook your head. “Ok, let’s go then. It could be good for you to get out of here.”

“Ok.”

Steve kept an arm around your waist as you left your apartment building. He didn’t let go until you reached the car and he opened up the door to let you in. You took the back seat with Bucky. He pulled you into his side and you buried your face into his neck. You stay cuddled up with Bucky until you reach your destination. The three alphas kept you entertained while Sam tried to explain what laser tag was.

When you get out of the car Jules rushes over. She had a beaming smile that faltered just for a moment when she saw you. It was still obvious you were shaken up and she immediately glared at the three men behind you. You welcomed her hug, it seemed like the presence of another omega calmed you down enough. Jonah and Ricky stand behind both of you, their arms crossed, ready to defend you if necessary.

“We’re going to the restroom first, we'll be right back.” You say with a soft smile for your alphas. All five alphas watch you and Jules walk into the building, which used to be a warehouse.

“Why was she upset?”

“We were leaving her apartment and when she stepped out into the hallway there was a scent that really affected her. Bucky searched to see if he could find where it was coming from but nothing.” Sam explained.

“And you thought bringing her here was a good idea?”

“We told her we could call you and cancel but she didn’t want to. Maybe this will be good for her, we promise we would never hurt her.”

Both Ricky and Jonah seemed unconvinced and their postures remained the same. It wasn’t until you came back out that they relaxed, but slightly.

“Hey guys, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah. Do you want to do teams or solo?” Jonah asked as he turned to you.

“Solo, why is that even a question. I don’t want any of you to drag my score down.”

You all entered the repurposed warehouse. While the outside looked old and weathered, the inside looked brand new. The place was huge and it was divided up to have an area for arcade games, a bar and your favorite thing of all, laser tag. Jonah and Ricky had been the ones to introduce you to the game when you first started. It seemed that having to learn to sneak around in your childhood did come in handy.

Once you got to the counter and paid for a 15 minute group session one of the teenagers behind the counter explained how the game works to Steve and Bucky. You pulled out your phone and even recorded them a bit, the confusion on their faces was incredible. After they were done and understood it a bit better you received your gear and the other teenager led you to the maze-like room you’d be using.

The room was dark, with only black lights lighting up the crazy patterns on the wall and carpet. There were a few low glowing lights that lined the floor so that you could move around without hitting the walls but other than that you were on your own.

“Have fun.” The kid at the door said before closing it.

“Your time starts now.” A voice said overhead and then music started to play.

All hell broke loose as you grabbed Jules’ hand and disappeared further into the room. Not before pointing your fake gun in the direction of the alphas and hitting two of them. You knew it because of the way the vest attached to the gun lit up. It was very hard for you to not laugh, considering you now had two super soldiers in the room. Before agreeing to play laser tag you had talked to Jules and planned out your strategy. It was you two against the alphas but they didn’t know it. She heads in one direction and you head in the other. You put your hand over your mouth trying to keep your giggles from giving away your position. You slowly turn a corner and run into Jonah first, you point and shoot. The. You’re running around a corner while he lets out an annoyed huff.

You’ve run into all of them except for one, Bucky. It’s the one person you’re now determined to find. Slow measured steps take you around the less crowded section of the room. You can feel him before you see him but you know he’ll shoot you and you want to win.

“Ow.” You say as you double over and suddenly Bucky has walked out from the shadows and is at your side.

“Darling are you ok? Let me see where you’re hurt.”

You stand back up and smile before pulling the trigger on your laser gun. Your arm wraps around his neck and you pull him down for a quick kiss.

“Sorry honey.”

You start to walk away from a stunned Bucky.

“Hey, that’s not fair.”

“All is fair in love and laser tag.” You call over your shoulder as you run off to find Steve again.

You find him about to turn in another direction and you shoot. He looks your way and lets out an annoyed huff. Steve stalks his way over to you and he wraps an arm around your waist.

“You’re not being fair omega.” He growls in your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Your time is up.” The same voice from earlier says and the round is over.

“Let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand and started walking toward the exit. Everyone met up just outside the door and waited for one of the people working the laser tag area to come get the equipment.

“Room three. Here are your scores.” One of the teenagers pointed toward the board.

“Seems like you keep your title as the undefeated queen of laser tag.”

“You’re damn right I do, Ricky.” You say as you hand over the vest and gun. The board still had the scores up and other than you being first, everyone else was off by a point or so except for Steve who was dead last. “Wow Stevie, that is a horrible score.”

His strong arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you into his chest.

“Well I didn’t know you were a cheater and my gun wasn’t working.”

“Sure, old man.” You smirk up at him. “We just found what you suck at.” You kiss his cheek before turning around to everyone else. “Drinks?”

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

Jules had been a lifesaver, she had called ahead to the bar and reserved a table towards the back of the bar area. She sat on one side of the table between Ricky and Jonah while you ended up between Sam and Bucky. Steve had an arm around the back of Sam’s seat and you could feel his fingers gracing your back slightly. Apparently it was a staring competition and Jules looked the meanest.

“So…” you tried to get someone to talk but no one would say anything. “Anyone else hungry? They have really good mozzarella sticks here.”

Sam is the first to break his gaze away from your friends and his eyes soften when they meet yours. They did that a lot you had realized recently. The way they looked at you and each other was different from the way they looked at the rest of the world.

“What else do you want, sunshine?”

“I’d like for the staring contest to be over.” You kissed his cheek. “Come on, let's go to the bar and put an order in while they do whatever this is.”

Sam is more than happy to follow you. Once you’re at the bar he stands behind you, his hands caress your waist as you both wait for the bartender. Sam gives his drink order along with Bucky and Steve’s while you do the same for you and your friends. As you wait you turn in Sam’s arms just so that you can look up at him.

“Do you think they’ve calmed down?”

“Not yet, but if it makes you feel any better we are very nervous.”

“What, why?”

“Because we don’t want to mess this up. It's important to you so it’s important to us and we don’t want to disappoint you.”

You pulled away from him slightly. “You could never disappoint me.”

“I hope so, sunshine.” Sam gave you a quick kiss just as the bartender set down your order in front of you. When you walk back to your table everyone is still staring at each other.

“Ok can you cut the shit already.” You said as you placed a beer in front of Ricky.

“Sweets, this is the first time you bring someone for the pack to meet. It’s our job to make sure they’ll treat you right and do all the things alphas are supposed to do for omegas.”

“Yeah but you do that by talking, not by staring at each other.”

“Fine,” Jules says as she sits up and stares at your alphas. “If her life were in danger would you sacrifice yourself to save her?”

“Jules!”

“Yeah.”

“Absolutely.”

“Without a doubt.”

All of them answered without hesitation. You looked at each of them bewildered.

“Would you kill someone if it meant keeping her alive?”

“Yes.” Again they answered as if it was obvious they’d do anything for you.

“Works for me.” Jules says as she takes a sip of her drink.

Ricky and Jonah nod in agreement and you’re still sitting there with your mouth hanging open. No one else seemed fazed by the questions or the answers except for you.

“Is that really it?”

“Yeah.” Jules replies. “I mean let’s be completely honest, they’re avengers sweets. We were just worried someone might want to hurt you to get to them. We want to know they’ll keep you safe. Personally they’ve had my approval since the day at the park.”

“We know you’re good men. All three of you. But she’s our little sister, we just want the best for her.” Jonah added.

“Also Mrs. Levy threatened us if we didn’t make this a bit difficult for them.” Ricky added at the end. “She’s really taken a liking to you, sweets.”

“Well that’s because I’m fucking awesome. So cheers to me.”

You raise your glass and take a sip. The others snicker at your response before taking a sip of their own drinks. For the rest of the night everyone relaxes and you’re able to enjoy the company of your friends and mates. You smile to yourself because of the warm feeling in your chest. One you had felt only once before, whe. You met Jonah and Ricky.

You felt like you belonged.

Ch. 9

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