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trivia-yandere · 10 months

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visions

you’re convinced by your friends to go to a party and let go of the memories of your ex just for one night. unfortunately for you, jungkook doesn’t want to be let go.

@momnomnom @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree writer: quay (explicit-tae)

word count: 5.186

warning: yandere themes, smut, dark themes, cursing, manipulation, toxic relationships, non-con, reader is drugged, impregnation kink, spitting, nipple sucking, biting, dirty talking, blood, neck slitting,

Your eyes snap open when the loud and ringing noise of your alarm. You’re quick to yawn, body stretching before grasping your phone off the bedside table. The alarm is titled “work” and you silenced it with a groan.

Your eyes catch the day of the week. Friday. The time was 8 a.m - an hour before you had to be at work. You contemplated calling off, but understood that it would cause nothing but your boss to be petty and write you off the schedule for the next few days - so you decided against it. Your feet kick the covers off of your body and swing to touch the cold, wooden floor. You winced at the impact, sending shivers up your spine.

Your phone sounds suddenly. You furrow a brow and go to grab it, color draining for your face. You bite your lip at the unknown number displayed on the screen.

Hesitantly, you decline the call and quickly block the number. Unknowingly, you begin to feel uneasy as you make your way to your bathroom to wash up. You’re trembling as you wash your face and when you brush your teeth, you can feel just how terrified you are.

It’s only been a month, you note. You had no doubt in your mind that Jungkook was behind the phone call - he’s called nearly every morning since you broke up with him and quickly signed a restraining order. It was only a temporary one until the two of you went to court, but it was necessary to do so.

You met Jungkook nearly a year ago. You recall the way the man has entered your job - the one you had prior to having to quit because of a scene he caused - and smiling brightly at you. He asked various questions about the countless sweets and desserts you had displayed behind the glass and you answered the best you could.

Each day Jungkook returned, buying desserts such as iced cream, candy, cookies - anything. He would munch on it a bit while the both of you talked and laughed and before he left, he assured he’d leave a tip for you at the counter.

Day by day, you expected Jungkook’s arrival. It made your job less boring and you also found yourself willing to come to work more dolled up. You’d coat your lips with gloss that you knew Jungkook liked (he’d always flicker his eyes to them when you’d talk) and style your hair differently each time.

Your first date with Jungkook was at the very same shop you worked at. You came in on an off day to pick up something you forgot and just as you were leaving, Jungkook was entering. His eyes were wide upon witnessing you face to face - this time you in casual clothing instead of a work uniform.

By the third date, you and Jungkook were officially dating - him asking you once the movie you two watched at the cinema was over - you agreed without a thought.

By the second month of dating, you noticed a shift. Jungkook was sweet, sure. Caring. He offered you rides everywhere you needed to go, and when he couldn't he’d never felt comfortable with you going alone. You brushed it off with Jungkook just being a cautious person.

Month three was when he became vocal in how you dressed. He didn’t appreciate the way other men looked at you - his words exactly - and you were giving said men a show by wearing shorts or skirts that were too short. He changed your wardrobe with clothing that he deemed was “outside clothes” and some that were “indoor for his eyes only”. Again, you brushed it off. Jungkook was your boyfriend now and his opinions mattered.

By the sixth month, Jungkook began to isolate you from your friends. “Why do you always hang with them on the weekends?” he’d ask when you were invited to a gathering. “Why can’t I go? Are other guys going to be there?” he’d asked once, eyes glaring at you. “Your friends are single. You aren’t. Why do you need to go to a club where other single men would be at?!” he had hissed, hands in his hair as if he was seconds from pulling it out.

Jungkook was amazing at comforting you - or so you thought. “I know how men are, baby.” he murmured while stroking your hair in his embrace. “If able, they’ll take advantage of you. Your friends cannot protect you from a man willing to do you harm.”

But the man that had harmed you was Jungkook himself.

Jungkook was never physically abusive. Sex with him was rough, yes, but you enjoyed it.

Jungkook’s abuse was manipulative - often pinning you against your friends that you were no longer invited to places they’d be because you would either bring Jungkook, or the man would come unbeknownst to you. Jungkook would call you countless times until you picked up and asked when you’d be home - and if the answer wasn’t good enough for him, he’d insist on picking you up himself. “Why can’t I come?” Jungkook asked when you were hastily walking out the door to meet your friends. “You’re not going to see your friends. You’re cheating on me!” he’d hiss, eyes blown wide and neck veins pulsing.

Last month, marking the eighth month, you decided to break up with Jungkook. You were nervous to say the least. You thought of several ways to break up with the man - you decided that in a public place would be best. You had more respect for him than to end the relationship over the phone. However, you also could not trust what he would do if you allowed him into your home.

You invited Jungkook to meet you in a public area - a park where you and he walked hand in hand many times. You were a bunch of nerves, especially when Jungkook was strolling towards you with a wide grin and in his hands, sunflowers.

Your heart flutters when he offers them to you, and awkwardly, you take them in your hands. You and Jungkook sat at a bench and he talked about how much he missed you, peppering kisses along your cheeks before you managed to push yourself away.

“You’re…leaving me…?” Jungkook's voice was dangerously low and calm, but his eyes were glaring daggers at you. You placed the flowers onto his lap and managed to get out of his embrace. His eyes are following you as you - slowly, so slowly - walk backwards, eyes apologizing while you remain silent.

The following week was Jungkook aggressively knocking at your door until you threatened to call the police. He would call nonstop and send multiple messages that you had to change your number to get him to stop - even if it never did, only slowed him down until he somehow found your number again. You had to change jobs more than once when he would show up at random times - you had no choice but to file a restraining order. You thought that maybe this would stop him - and for a moment it did.

Until today.

The unknown number calling you was no doubt Jungkook. You never answered any number that wasn’t familiar to you and instead blocked them. They left no voicemail after calling and each time, it was a different number displayed.

You walk out of your bathroom and down the hall to your small kitchen. You didn’t have time to eat anything for breakfast outside of a quick muffin. You would be late if you cooked or even made coffee.

Your muffin jolts out of your hand when you hear sudden knocking at your door. Your blood runs cold at how powerful and rapid they’re coming. Your mind is on one person.

“Open the door, Y/N.”

Jungkook was behind the door.

Jungkook didn’t care for whatever petty restraining order you had against him. The constant calls told you so.

“I can hear you moving.”

You stiffen at his words. You didn’t know what to do.

You weren’t once afraid of Jungkook - he has never hit you. But he was like another person when he was angered. He wasn’t the same man with the sweet smile and the soft eyes - it was as if a switch flipped and he was a completely different man.

“I just want…closure.”

Jungkook's words crack as he speaks and your heart betrays you. You were beginning to feel guilty for putting him through this. Your friends told you that it wasn’t your fault, that Jungkook was good at manipulating you.

“Please, Y/N…baby.”

Your hand was on the door handle before you knew it and you cracked the door open.

Jungkook’s eyes are wide when you do and he gives you a dazzling smile. He steps closer but stops himself from entering when you don’t open the door wider for him.

Jungkook’s smile falters. “You’re…”

“You can’t be here, Jungkook.” you manage to say without stuttering.

“You…are serious?”

You knit your brows.

Were you serious?

You changed your number multiple times in a span of a month that it was insane. You blocked multiple numbers when changing yours became tiring. You got a restraining order against him.

Did Jungkook think this was just a simple misunderstanding and you needed to be “alone” before coming back to him?

“Yes. I’m serious, Jungkook. Please leave.”

Jungkook doesn’t move. His eyes are searching yours for any hint that you were hesitant - but he found nothing.

You were serious.

You wanted nothing to do with him, Jungkook grunts.

You were willing to throw everything he offered you out the window because of what? A few disagreements? Arguments? Your single friends?

“So there’s nothing that is going to bring you back to me?” Jungkook tries one last time. He doesn’t want to blow up and demand you stop being the dumb bitch you were acting like now. He didn’t want to raise his voice and break down your door - because you would be frightened and close yourself off once more. He was trying but you were too selfish to see it.

“No.”

Jungkook’s heart shatters and he doesn’t say anything when you close your door. He hears you lock it but he decides that if you couldn’t allow yourself to accept his love - then others wouldn’t either. He was done with being nice to you - you didn’t deserve his kindness. If you were going to act like the damsel in distress, then he was going to give you something to be distressed about.

The music was far too loud to hear anyone who wasn’t speaking directly into your ear. The air was muggy and humid. It smelt of cheap cologne/perfume and several different types of alcohol - but you were just happy to be here.

Well, as happy as you could be standing alone in the corner of the home while others danced, laughed and drank. You were invited by your friends to come to “let loose” and “get your mind off of your crazy ex”. You agreed - but now you were left to your own devices while they mingled elsewhere.

Speaking of your “crazy ex”, you haven’t heard from Jungkook in nearly two months. It was a sigh of relief, truly. You assumed he wanted closure in seeing you once last time to confirm that the relationship has indeed ended. There weren’t any random pops up at your home or work, no random phone calls or text messages from random numbers. Slowly, you were beginning to be less afraid of seeing the man out and about.

“First time at a party?”

Your head whips around to a tall figure beside you. You can smell the alcohol in the cup he’s holding. He’s offering a small smile as he towers beside you/ He’s close to you just so he could speak loud enough for you to hear.

“First time in a while.” you respond to him. You give a small smile in return.

“Are you here alone?” the guy takes a sip of his drink.

“No. My friends are…”

“...Around here somewhere?” the guy nods in agreement. “So are mine. Haven’t seen them in an hour.”

You laughed.

You and the tall guy - who’s name you learned was Dean - hit it off quickly. You and him stood together and talked the majority of the night - your friends and his never returning, but you aren’t surprised. You weren’t as outgoing and friendly as your friends were. You’re positive they’re playing a game of beer pong (and losing).

As another hour rolls around, you were seated on a large leather couch that you’re surprised was vacant with Dean, your head began to hurt. You feel hot and stuffy and your vision is blurring.

“Are you okay?” you hear Dean say. “Do you need some water?”

You nod your head, allowing Dean to pass you a bottle of water.

Jungkook - on the other hand - was livid. The nerve of you to break up with him just to come to a party and look for another man. And not just that - but to get drugged by said man and not even notice it. Jungkook lingered deep into the side lines that you would never see him - but luckily he was there watching over you. He witnessed Dean put a small pill into your drink while you were busy laughing at something he said - Jungkook clenched his fists.

Jungkook isn’t far behind when you are being escorted out of the large sitting room, a sea of people not bothering to stop and see what Dean is doing with a groggily woman.

Jungkook’s breathing becomes heavy when you are pushed into a vacant room, the door closing behind them.

Jungkook blamed your friends for leaving you alone in an environment that you didn’t belong to. No matter how hard he tried to tell you that you didn’t belong to a friend group such as this, you never listened. Now look - you were drugged by a man you didn’t know and about to get raped.

But luckily, Jungkook was here to save you.

Jungkook knocks aggressively onto the door, not stopping until the door swings open and an annoyed Dean surfaces. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to draw back his fist and plant it right between the man's eyes.

And again.

And a few more times until Dean is a bloody mess, squirming away and out of the room.

Jungkook shakes his head and closes the door, locking it behind him. You aren’t completely unconscious, but he’s positive you will be soon. Your shirt is off already, Dean wasting no time.

Your bra - a red lace - looks amazing against your skin. It makes his heart swell and a smile forms onto his lips. It was a gift from him that you kept.

“Y/N, baby.” Jungkook coos, hovering above you. He wraps his arms around your body, you groaning low when he does. “I missed you so much.”

Jungkook sends kisses down your neck, arms never wanting to leave you. Your smell is tainted with alcohol, but his nose catches on the faint smell of vanilla he adores on you.

“I told you not to have such horrible friends.” Jungkook tsks. You are yet to be fully unconscious. You moan out an inaudible response and Jungkook only coos again.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” Jungkook presses himself into you, hard length at the center of your clothed core. “Do you miss me as much as I missed you?”

You do, Jungkook concludes. He dips his hands beneath your jeans and finds how wet you truly are for him. Jungkook removes his hands and pops it into his mouth, shuddering at your taste. It’s been so long - too long. He’s angered that you went too far away from the relationship. A restraining order? Far too dramatic for his taste. But he’ll let it slide and choose to forgive you because here you lay, beautiful as ever. Wet for him and him only.

Jungkook doesn’t waste any more unnecessary time. He needs to feel your warm essence around him. He pulls your jeans down along with your underwear, eyes widening at the beauty that was your wet pussy. He feels the bulge in his own pants begin to tighten and he just cannot wait any longer.

Foreplay was your favorite when it came to Jungkook, he knows this. You would cum so hard against his tongue, squirming and begging for him to stop because of just how overstimulated you were, but Jungkook wouldn’t. He would let you cum over and over on his tongue, fingers, thigh - wherever you wanted to.

However, now he could not console himself. The need to be inside you was far greater than anything. Once you and he were back together than he would allow you to sit on his face where you belong.

Jungkook pumps his cock as he inches closer to you. He rubs the tip of it against your swollen clit and shudders once more. Goosebumps litter his arm and he can’t hold back anymore. He enters you with a high pitched groan, hands going to place themselves on your hips.

Jungkook hears your moans as he sinks in and out of you, the sound of his skin slapping echoing off the walls. You were so wet and tight that he’s proud - proud that you haven’t let another man touch what was his. That even when you were upset and the both of you went through this break, that you understood your role in the end.

“Fuck, baby.” Jungkook snaps his hips into you harder, left hand going to toy with your clit. It’s sensitive as he remembers it to be. His right hand snatches the lacy bra down so he could watch the way your breast bounce for him. “So beautiful and all mine.” he hisses, leaning down to suck a nipple into his mouth.

Jungkook sucks onto it until it’s swollen and throbbing, and he proceeds to the next one. He could never get enough of you, littering bite marks around your breast and collar bone.

“Your pussy’s milking my cock so good, baby.” Jungkook grunts, his thrust becoming sloppy. You were so wet, pussy clenching around him while your juices ruined the sheets.

Jungkook snaps his eyes shut, groaning loudly. A free hand slaps down harshly on your stomach as he pounds into you. He recalls the few times the two of you spoke of the future - of getting married and having children. He declared that he desired them to look exactly like you - you were just so perfect in his eyes. “I’m going to put a baby in you.” Jungkook feels himself about to cum. His hands don't remove from your stomach. It was soft and it drove him crazy just thinking about you round with his child - your breast enlarging with breast milk to feed his child. You would be an amazing mother and he would enjoy nothing more than for you to be at home while he provided for you and the child you both shared.

Jungkook cums inside of you, twitching. He’s humming slowly, trying to regain his breath. He places a deep kiss upon your lips, sweaty forehead placed against your own.

Your head is pounding. Your throat is sore and dry and your body aches. You try to rake your mind about what the hell is going on and what has happened to lead up to this. You blink your eyes open, hissing how bright the light shines above you.

Your wrist is aching and when you attempt to move, you notice you cannot. Your wrist appears to be detained and when your mind registers this, you begin to whimper. Your vision is blurry with tears, but you blink them away to attempt to see what the hell is going on.

“Baby!”

Your thrashing stiffens at the familiar voice. Your blood runs cold and your mind is screaming alarm bells.

“You’re awake.”

You blink away your tears rapidly to regain your vision. It takes you a few moments, but when you do you’re crying all over again.

Jungkook was before you, but it wasn’t just him before you that had you screaming and crying. It was the man, tall and smiling warmly, covered in blood. The irony smells hit your nostrils and your stomach churns. Your head whips around to your surroundings, unsure of just where the hell you’re at. Your wrist is bound behind you. You’re sitting on a wooden chair in a room unknown to you.

“I didn’t want you to see this but…” Jungkook sighs, trailing off. He steps away to show you what was behind him and the reason why he’s covered in blood.

Your throat releases a horrified whimper, eyes wide with tears.

“I had to do it, baby.” Jungkook says with a shake of his head. “They weren’t real friends. They left you alone at a party where you were drugged!”

The lifeless body of both of your friends laid flat against the ground, blood covering their skin even more than it did Jungkook’s. You want to vomit at the horrifying scene but somehow manage not to.

“P-Please-”

“Don’t start with your shit!” Jungkook raises a bloody hand to silence you. “Listen to me.”

You flinch when Jungkook takes a step towards you, eyes closing ready for him to deliver the same fate as your friends.

Jungkooks eyes widen at the sight of you cowering before him.

“You think I would harm you?” Jungkook scoffs in disbelief. “Everything I have done has been…for you. For us.” Each word that releases from Jungkook’s mouth is a hiss. His eyes are wide and he appears utterly insane. “I saved you from being raped by that bastard! I got rid of the trash you call friends!”

You jump when you hear banging coming from Jungkook, but you open your eyes to look.

“You left me for what, Y/N? To be left alone at a party and drugged? These weren’t your friends.” Jungkook scoffs. He goes as far as to spit on the two girls you dare to call your friends. “You got a restraining order against me just for me to not be the bad guy.”

You scream when you feel a hand on your jaw. Jungkook shakes your head to force your eyes open. His hands feel wet and sticky, obviously with the blood of your friends.

“I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook voice cracks as if he was the one that is hurting - as if you weren’t the one that had to witness the deceased body of your friends and an ex boyfriend declaring he did it for you. “Say it back….” Jungkook’s lips are soft when they kiss your cheeks. Your salty tears are warm against his lips. “...Say it back….” Jungkook continues.

“Fuck you!” you scream. You’re thrashing, kicking your feet to get Jungkook away from you. Your wrists are burning with your arms attempting to release them.

“Already did.” Jungkook laughs gleefully. He isn’t upset at your outburst. You’re a pure soul and he’s saddened that you had to see this - death of fake friends and learning the realization of your (almost) assault. “How could you not remember the way we made love, baby?”

Jungkook trails a hand on your covered stomach. You stopped your struggle at his words, eyes wide and tearful.

“You were so wet for me, baby. You missed me just as much as I missed you.” Jungkook taps your stomach gently. “Soon the product of our love is going to grow.”

Jungkook’s eyes are shining with love - to you it was psychotic. Jungkook was insane. This wasn’t love - you heard him admit to raping you; there was no way you could consent while drugged.

“No…” you shake your head at Jungkook’s words, but the man only nods. “...I hate you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I hate you.” you repeat.

“Stop.” Jungkook hisses, eyebrows knitting. “How could you say that after-” “I hate you!” you scream in his face - and you repeat it again, again and again. You repeat it until Jungkook’s hand tangles into your hair and yanks it back.

“Say you love me, Y/N.” Jungkook demands. “Say you’ll stay with me.”

Jungkook was crazy - there was no well in hell you would remain with a murderer. If you thought Jungkook was bad before, your thoughts on him have worsened now.

“I’ll never love you.”

Jungkook's heart thumps rapidly. Your words make his heart ache.

“You don’t mean that.” Jungkook shakes his head. His hand tightens itself in your hair. “You’re just upset. This is my fault. I should’ve taken you home.”

“I’ll never love you!” you hiss at him.

Jungkook’s heart thumps again. His eyes stare into your own.

You weren’t lying.

You hated him.

You feared him.

Your eyes weren’t lying, nor were the words coming from your mouth.

“I see.” Jungkook murmurs, dropping his hand from your hair. He takes a step back, tilting his head at you. “You’ll never love me again.” he states, more to himself than you. “If I cannot have your love, Y/N, then there is no reason for either of us to live.”

Your breathing increases at Jungkook’s words. He reaches into his jacket pocket, removing a pocket knife.

“I love you.” Jungkook’s crying now as he speaks. “Everything I did was for you!”

“Jungkook-”

“Don’t speak now.” Jungkook interrupts, pointing the knife at your throat. “You’ll never love me and I’ve accepted that.” Jungkook drops to his knee. He leans down to your face. You’re whimpering - and even now, Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. It saddens him that this is what you chose. “Maybe…if we’re reborn…you and I can raise the child we spoke about.”

“Jung-”

Jungkook places his lips on yours - a final kiss he tells himself. He places the pocket knife onto your throat and slits it. It’s deep and he feels the blood rush out and squirts onto him. You cough into the kiss, and Jungkook isn’t far behind. He slits his own throat just as deep. He’s coughing, placing his head onto your lap, desiring to be just as close to you in death as he desired in life.

Your eyes snap open and a scream erupts from your lungs right when the loud and ringing noise of your alarm. Your hands grip your neck, heart pumping outside your chest.

You’re in your room.

A shaky hand grabs your phone that was laid on the bedside table and turn off the alarm. It was titled “work”.

Your eyes watch as your phone displays the day of the week.

Friday.

8 A.M.

An hour before you had to be at work.

Was everything that happened to you…

“A dream?” your voice is hoarse and low. There’s goosebumps littering your skin and you’re visibly shaking.

You were having deja vu.

No, you did this already - you’re sure of it.

Your dream began with you waking up just as you were now. Friday at 8 A.M.

Your feet kick the covers off of your body and swing to touch the cold, wooden floor. You winced at the impact, sending shivers up your spine. You didn’t need to think what was going to happen next.

Your phone sounds suddenly. Color drained from your face. You knew who was calling you without having to look at the screen. You were reliving your dream. Could you call it a dream or vision?

Were you given a second chance at life?

You recall the way you declined the unknown number and proceed in getting ready for work. Jungkook was knocking at your door. You recalled the party you were invited to, your friends, Dean.

You scurry down the hall to your bathroom just as your stomach churns. You release the vomit into the toilet, clenching the side of it.

“What’s going on…” you murmur to yourself, flushing the toilet. There was no way you were reliving what you had dreamt.

You began to brush your teeth and wash your face, hands trembling.

You don’t go to the kitchen like you would usually when you wake up. If your dream was correct, Jungkook would be-

A sudden knock makes you yelp. You’re stiff in your spot, eyes wide.

In your dream, you told Jungkook that you wanted nothing to do with him. That the relationship was over.

You told Jungkook you hated him as he stands before you, covered in blood.

You could feel the way the knife rips through your throat, unable to breath or help yourself.

“Open the door Y/N.”

Jungkook’s voice frightens you.

Your breathing becomes heavy.

Your dream was becoming a reality - if it was ever a dream.

‘Maybe…if we’re reborn…you and I can raise the child we spoke about.’

Jungkook’s last words replay in your head while the hair on your skin raises.

Before your mind thinks, your feet are moving. You slam the door open, eyes wide at Jungkook. He stands straighter at seeing you after a month.

“Y/N…are you okay?” Jungkook wants to hug you. You appear to be seconds away from crying and it causes his heart to thump.

“Jungkook…” you trail off, voice cracking.

“Y/N…baby…” Jungkook takes a step closer.

You wrap your arms around Jungkook, crashing into his chest.

Jungkook’s distraught, but he doesn’t push you away. He wraps his arms around you and presses his nose into your hair, inhaling your sweet scent.

Your hands clench his shirt, trembling.

You didn’t want to die.

You didn’t want your friends to die.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook murmurs after a sweet moment of having you in his arms. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” you sob.

Your mind is screaming at you to run. To push him away. There was a possibility that you could do things right - not go to a party and meet Dean. You can just go to work and home.

However, you’re tired. You’re tired of the phone calls and having to constantly look over your shoulder. There was a possibility that you could face the same fate as the dream.

“P-Please s-stay with me.” you stutter out.

Jungkook's heart pounds with excitement. “Really?” he gently pushes you back to look at your face. You’re crying, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks. “Don’t cry, baby. I love you.” he wipes your tears, a small smile on your lips.

You nod your head at him. You step back and allow him to follow you in.

Jungkook closes the door behind him. He leans down to kiss your lips.

Jungkook sighs into the kiss. He missed your soft lips.

“I promise, baby, I’ll be better.” Jungkook murmurs against your lips. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to lose you.” you murmur to him.

You’re unsure if this decision was the correct one, but you were far too frightened to see what an angered Jungkook would do to you in this reality if you denied him.

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makeyoumine69 · 4 months

Text

My Dear Little Girl

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: The Christmas gift you never imagined.

CONTAINS: Smut, fluff, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, oral sex (f), tongue fucking, nipple play/sucking, body worship, praise kink, manhandling, dirty talk, pet names, marking, biting, established relationships, Service!Dom!Patrick Bateman himself.

WORDS: 3.3k

SONG REC: The Neighbourhood - Softcore

A/N: Merry Christmas guys, I'm so happy to have you all! 💞

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]

There has always been something magical about Christmas, the holiday atmosphere, the sweet smell of tangerines and the clinking of champagne glasses. Yes, all of this became a standard set of things that people thought of when it came to Christmas. And you were probably one of those who believed in miracles that could happen during this magical time. At least you tried to believe it, but when Bateman told you that he had to go to his company Christmas party tonight, that actually brought you back down to Earth, because sometimes our expectations simply didn't match up with reality. And that was absolutely fine — those were the exact words you told Patrick when he called you a few hours ago, before he actually went to that party.

Everything was fine.

You repeated this over and over again as you walked around your apartment in Manhattan, which was not as spacious as Bateman's, but you really loved it, especially now, with the beautiful Christmas tree that shone brightly with different illuminations when you turned off the lights. Since you knew Patrick wasn't coming, there was no point in waiting to open the bottle of the finest red wine he'd given you especially for this Christmas Eve. Sighing, you poured yourself a big glass of the red liquid, took some sweets and went back to your living room, where you stood at the wide window and looked at the breathtaking scenery of New York City in winter — this year it was quite snowy, which could not make you happy, even though you were going to spend this evening alone.

As the fireworks began to paint the midnight sky in ornaments of different shapes and colors, you couldn't take your eyes off this sight, as you were absolutely mesmerized. At first, you didn't even hear the doorbell ring, and only when it rang for the tenth time in a row did you realize that someone was at your front door, which actually scared you a bit because it was already quite late.

Your steady footsteps echoed off the walls of your hallway as you finally reached the door and looked through the peephole - the person you saw almost made you drop your glass to the floor. Damn, you should have left it in the living room.

Before you slowly opened the door, you coughed several times to clear your throat, and you also quickly fixed your hair — although your whole appearance could hardly be called fancy or party-like, as you wore your casual top and shorts set — the moment you and Bateman saw each other, you both remained silent, as if you were seeing each other for the first time.

"Well, hello (y/n)," he was the first to speak, with his absolutely haughty smile that always left you no choice but to be embarrassed. "I thought you were out walking somewhere."

"At this time?"

Patrick grinned even wider before glancing to the right, where a small commotion could be heard. "Some people here are already celebrating, you know."

Rolling your eyes, you stepped aside to let him enter. "What happened to the Christmas party?"

Your question made the man chuckle as he brushed some snow from his shoulders before taking off his beautiful dark blue coat. "Actually — nothing."

"Nothing?"

"That's exactly what I said." Patrick crooned and came closer to you, pressing his cold palm against your cheek, making you squirm and almost spilling wine on your shirt. "Uhh, you have such warm cheeks, honey."

"Okay, I'll ask it another way," you managed to regain your composure, even though Bateman seemed to be doing his best to make you lose your cool. "Why are you here?"

Pulling his hand away from your face, Bateman narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms after checking the time on his Rolex. "Were you expecting someone else?"

And now his voice sounded as grumpy as if he was seriously asking that question, but instead of defending yourself, you just chuckled and took a sip of your drink.

"Oh yes, I was expecting a handsome man so we could drink this wonderful wine and... talk about music, the meaning of life and whether or not true love exists." You chirped quickly before taking his hand and dragging him into your living room before this conversation could lose its jokey undertone.

"That was," Bateman stammered when he finally realized what drink you were holding. "That was very smart. Have you ever thought of applying to a Broadway theater? I think they would love to offer you a job." His statement made you stop and turn to give him a deadly stare. "What? If you don't like theater, you can always try your luck in the circus."

"Patrick!" You scolded, fighting the urge to throw your drink right in his cheeky face. "You were the one who told me I would be alone today! And you didn't even suggest that I go with you!"

Having said that, you continued on your way to the living room, but without holding Patrick's hand as you left the man behind, though his expression was still as bright as the New York sky inscribed with fireworks. "Wait a minute, honey," Bateman muttered, following you. "You made it pretty clear that you don't want to go to parties like that, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't," you lied, bursting into a soft laugh, swirling the glass in your hand. "Oh, this wine tastes amazing, by the way. Would you like to try some?"

The sudden change of subject just made him smile cheekily, and before he could answer, Bateman tucked his hands into the pockets of his Amrani pants and leaned against the door to your living room. "I know this wine is good, that's why I gave it to you, sweetheart," his brilliant, full-toothed smile made your heartbeat faster and for a moment you even forgot what you were doing. "But yes, I would definitely have a drink."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Grinch." You mumbled playfully and went to the kitchen.

Fireworks began to explode just as you opened the shelf to grab a glass for him, thanking God you managed to hold it in your hand. The loud sound coming from the outside drowned out the approaching footsteps behind you, so when a pair of strong, big arms wrapped around your waist, you didn't even have time to get scared, you just gasped and fell right into Patrick's tight embrace.

"I got you," he whispered in your ear, sucking on your lobe tenderly, but with an undisguised desire for something more intimate. "You little liar." Bateman pulled you closer with a possessive grip as his hand carefully found its way to yours to take the glass and place it on the smooth surface of the kitchen counter. "We don't want any trouble, do we?"

Panting, you turned halfway to look up into his brown, mesmerizing eyes. "Patrick," you let him nuzzle your cheek, his perfect nose brushing against yours, and then Bateman kissed you softly on your plump lips. "Mmhm, I'm so glad you came, I've missed you and —"

"Shhh," he silenced you with his thumb, his glowing gaze never leaving your beautiful face. "I know, darling," another sensual kiss was planted on your neck this time, eliciting a muffled moan from your half-open mouth. "You don't have to say anything else, just relax..." Patrick nipped at your throat more eagerly, leaving marks here and there, while his hands drew invisible ornaments all along your inviting little form. "...and let me take care of you."

Dear Lord, it was impossible to think clearly, not when he was talking to you like that and his hot lips were caressing that exact spot behind your ear, driving you absolutely crazy and you didn't even notice the way your hips were grinding against his hard groin, spurring him on to go even further. Groaning softly into your ear, Bateman couldn't wait any longer, his pants getting too tight with every brush of your ass against his throbbing length.

"Fuck, babe, you're so gorgeous," he purred in a low voice, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your shoulder, then moving lower to your shoulder blade, pulling up your top to taste your skin. "Do you know what I was thinking about during the party?" Bateman asked suddenly, tugging at the lace of your shorts, tantalizing you with his intentions.

"N-no, tell me," you closed your eyes from the intoxicating pleasure of his thin fingers darting across your belly, but when they finally reached your heated core, you couldn't keep a loud whimper from breaking out of your dry lips. "Please, a-ahhh, tell me everything."

"Uh, look at you," he quickly licked the back of your neck before grabbing a handful of your soaked pussy. "Such a curious little kitty," Patrick huffed, suddenly pulling down your shorts with your wet panties, leaving you no chance to even react, not to mention struggling. "I was thinking about you," Bateman carefully lifted one of your legs to rest it on the kitchen counter, then crouched down behind you, leaving a sloppy kiss on your lower back. "About fucking you senseless, to be exact."

"Oh my God," you mewled, clinging to the surface of the counter as you felt his hot breath between your legs. "I was... I was thinking about that too."

Smirking to himself, Bateman gave your ass a few firm squeezes before finally touching you where you wanted him most, his warm tongue feeling so fucking amazing on your swollen clit. "Oh, that's interesting," he cooed to you, enjoying the way your body reacted to his every move, it was always amusing and turned him on, the knowledge of having such power over you was enough to make him rock hard. "Looks like you're just pretending to be shy. Now spread these beautiful legs wider for me," as you did so he used both hands to massage your buttocks before sliding his digits along your tight lower lips to get better access to your wet entrance. "Good girl, so fucking good for me."

With that, he plunged his tongue into your tight hole, trapping you in place as you jerked in his grasp from the intense sensation in your lower abdomen, but that was only the beginning as the next moment, Bateman returned his assault on your little bud, rubbing it in intense circular motions.

"A-awwww, Patrick," your sweet voice was music to his ears, especially when he made you do those high-pitched wails, each time his tongue sank deeper into your soft, inner channel. "Please...that feels so..."

"Good?" he chuckled before peppering your dripping slit with little kisses. "Jesus, you're so yummy, mmmh," Patrick lapped at your pussy like a starved man, gripping your ass tightly to remind you who was in charge here. "I'd like to stay between these legs forever if I could."

By the time he was done eating you out, you could barely breathe as you balanced on the edge of falling into the oblivion of pure ecstasy, his chiseled face covered in your sweet flavor, which he immediately cleaned up with his tongue.

"Patrick, it felt so damn amazing..." you whimpered and turned around to see him undoing his expensive suit, his red tie already loosened, making him look even sexier, if it was possible to be hotter than he was. "Please."

With a sassy grin, Bateman unbuttoned his blue shirt, revealing an absolutely mouth-watering view of his sculpted chest and perfect abs. "Please what, honey?" He cupped your face before pulling you into a ravenous kiss, his tongue swirling shamelessly around yours, making you moan at how heavenly he kissed you. "Use your words, make me proud of how bold you are."

A brisk unzipping sound hit you like a whip, giving you a strange feeling of liberation and excitement. "I want you, all of you. Whatever you will give me, I'll take gladly."

You could see his nostrils flaring with each word, as if you were a moth to a flame. Biting his lower lip, the man came closer just to pick you up as if you weighed nothing, and he walked into your bedroom, where the beautiful garlands on the window shone with all the colors of the rainbow, making the whole atmosphere truly magical, especially with the lights off.

Bateman didn't like it at first, but when he saw your childishly happy face, he gently placed you on the bed, towering over you like a mountain. "Lovely here."

"You like it?" Your question forced him to frown in irritation, but he just pecked your temple and shamelessly removed your top, leaving you completely bare before his hungry eyes. "I spent a lot of time decorating it."

Smiling ironically, Patrick placed a reassuring kiss on your temple before he removed the last of his clothes and you finally felt his soft skin against yours, you couldn't help but hook your hands and legs around him like a vine. "I like it." Of course, he didn't, you knew that, but it didn't matter because now you two belonged to each other, both physically and mentally. "C'mere, babygirl," Bateman suddenly sat down on the bed and invited you to get on top of him. "Today we're going to try something new. Do you trust me?"

Breathing heavily, you nodded, and the next thing you knew his thick cock was sliding along your wet folds as he held you tightly by your waist, manhandling you with such ease as if you were a feather. With a longing growl, the man pressed you closer to his strong body so he could graze your collarbone and play with your engorged nipples as he literally buried his face between your breasts, squeezing them with both hands.

"Mhhm, Patty!" You moaned as he sucked on two of your little peaks at once, his leaky tip already prodding at your dripping opening as Patrick decided to test the patience of both of you. "Please, oh-please, fuck me, please, fuck...fuck me!"

Bateman snickered against your neck, sending little tickles that made you smile, and he couldn't stop himself from squeezing your cheeks as you looked so fucking cute and sinful right now. "Uh, I'll give you more than that."

After that, he carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and slowly lowered you down onto his beefy dick, the second your bodies finally connected, you both let out loud moans and held each other tighter as if your lives depended on it.

"Mmhm-fuck," the man had to close his eyes from the way your pussy was clinging to his huge cock, encompassing it so tightly that you both saw stars as Patrick supported your bobbing movements, holding your hips in his big palms and rocking his own towards yours. "You feel...f-fucking amazing!"

"I love you, I love you, Patty!" you cried out desperately, looping your hands around his neck to pull him closer as your bodies intertwined like snakes, each move bringing so much pleasure as he could fuck you so deeply and lustfully in this position. "Please, c-cum inside me!"

Your words made his eyes open wide and then you heard a low, guttural growl as Bateman suddenly pushed you down, forcing you to lie on your back and lift your legs to press them against his broad chest as he began to pound harder, rolling his hips to stimulate your G-spot.

"Is that what my dear girl wants, huh?" The man asked, mesmerized by the sight of your bouncing breasts, the lewd sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling your bedroom, making you scream shamelessly in pure bliss as his swollen tip brushed relentlessly against your cervix, stimulating you in a way that could bring you to climax without even touching your clit. "'C'mon honey, milk my dick and I'll give you my cum." In addition to his dirty talk, Patrick pecked your ankle as gently as he could — on the verge of a frenzy, he could just ravish you until you couldn't move, but right now he was trying his best to focus on your release. "Do it for me, sweetheart, cum around my dick like a good girl!"

Creasing the sheets, you threw your head back onto the pillows from the pulsating sensation in your lower body. "Pat-Patty! A-aaahhh—" You choked on your own moan, writhing erratically around the bed, and only his strong arms managed to hold you in place as Bateman was aware that you were about to fall off the fucking bed.

"That's it, mhm," Patrick watched you attentively, relishing the way your eyebrows knit together from how hard you cum on his fat dick, your eyes closed and your lips frozen in a silent moan. "So fucking gorgeous, so fucking...mm-so fucking tight, fuck!"

Bateman shifted his position again, covering you from above, transferring his weight to his sturdy arms as he rammed into you like a jackhammer, you could feel his heavy balls slapping against your cunt in the obscenest way possible. And then the man finally collapsed inside you, painting your velvety walls white, pinning you down with his huge frame and biting your shoulder like an animal claiming its prey. You couldn't move and you were barely breathing, but you took him completely, until his hot liquid began to flow from your ruined pussy, flooding the sheets beneath you. Spent and exhausted, Patrick kissed and licked the mark he had just left before pressing his forehead against yours, holding you tightly in his arms and you knew he would never let you go as you were born to be his.

Moments later, you were standing next to the Christmas tree in your living room, Bateman sitting on the small couch, finally having his drink, but not wine as he managed to find some whiskey in your minibar.

"Next time, let's put a Christmas tree in your apartment!" You suddenly blurted out, clapping your hands.

"No, don't even think about it, kitten," Patrick almost choked on his drink and coughed several times. "Oh, honey, don't make that face."

Damn, although you knew that Bateman didn't like all that stuff, it made you sad anyway, so the man had no choice but to comfort you here and now, before the situation got worse.

After putting the glass on the nearby coffee table, he stood up and approached you from behind, hugging you, but you were still pouting. "Listen," he whispered into your ear. "I have something for you, something special that will make you forget everything."

"What is it?"

Thrilled, Patrick slipped into the pocket of his robe, which he had brought especially to your place because he couldn't stand any other robes but his own, and took out a small, velvety box. "And what do you think it is?"

As soon as you turned around and saw this little box, something in your mind flashed like fireworks. "Oh my God, Patrick..." you covered your face in your hands from shock. "Is that..."

Bateman opened the box in one swift motion, revealing a magnificent ring that shone brightly, reflecting the illumination of the Christmas tree. "I want us to meet next Christmas in a different status," he murmured, taking the ring in his hand. "You know what I mean?" Tears welled in your eyes as you couldn't believe this was happening. "Will you be my wife, (y/n)?"

At first, you couldn't say anything because you were shocked, but then you managed to whisper. "Yes, yes, of course I will," and then you snuggled into his warm embrace, allowing him to put the ring on your finger and kiss your forehead, and this kiss was different because now you were his fiancée. "I love you, I love you so much!"

With a bright grin on his flawless face, Patrick rested his chin on the top of your head and stroked your hair. "Merry Christmas, my dear little girl. I love you too."

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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redslug · 3 months

Text

Coloring tutorial I guess

That's my most default shading style, a hybrid of line drawing and painted shadows, and I'll tell you exactly how to get this look. But before we start, you need a weapon This is my main brush for basically anything, including line art on days when I don't feel like switching to something actually intended for inking. It's a lightly textured square brush with color variation on every stamp. Intended for Procreate but you can always just rip the alpha texture out of the file and use it for a brush in any drawing program. That out of the way, let's go. I'll use the same line art as the one in fluff tutorial. Set the line layer to ~60 or so opacity and get to blocking in the base colors of your character. The jitter brush will introduce some color variation on it's own, but changing the color occasionally will add more visual interest.

After this I add a multiply layer on top and dab orange or red in places where we might be able to see the base of the hairs or peek at the carapace underneath.

It's places where hair parts and where it's shorter. This accent color works great on joints as well. Example of the thing I'm going for in real life:

Especially visible behind the head. It's not present on every moth to be fair, but I like to add these accents even where it wouldn't make sense, just because it looks nice. Even on insects without hair. Block in the eyes and mandibles now, best if it's on separate layer.

Now, the actual funny tricks begin. If you're one of the people who only use multiply or add blend modes, stop it, get some help Understanding the math behind blend modes is gonna get you a long way. My lineart is set to subtract more often than not. I find it produces juicier and more colorful results than multiply. I want to give this picture a warm orange feeling, so the color of my lines should be the opposite - blue.

And, subtract.

Perfect, but not quite. We can push the lines to an even softer feeling. Take the line layer, copy it, invert the color and set to multiply. I then throw gaussian blur on the resulting copy and reduce opacity until the lines bleed into the surroundings just a little bit.

On to actual shading. People who shade without getting in some background first scare me, so let me throw something together real quick.

A simple gradient will also suffice for this use. We just need some information on which colors are present in the surroundings. Copy your background, bring it on top of your character layers and gaussian blur it real hard. Set it to multiply, remove all parts of the layer that go beyond the pixels of the base color layer. Adjust opacity until the character fits in the background.

Let's identify the light sources. In this case it's only the sky, but it produces two distinct colors - soft blue lighting comes from the top, slightly stronger red comes from behind. The blue light I set to exclusion blend mode because it felt most appropriate in this case. Both add and screen looked too strong to be the light coming from such dark sky.

In this lighting context the lower part of the body will receive less light that the upper part. I use the green of the bushes set to multiply to darken the bottom.

The character is surrounded by all kinds of soft light, but it can't get everywhere. It's time to add ambient occlusion, or contact shadows, for those without a 3d background. Anywhere where there is a crevice or surfaces almost touch, a soft shadow will form.

I do it on a multiply layer with a neutral gray-green color. Gray because any color light isn't really getting in there and green because the fluff is somewhat transparent and whatever light does pass through it gains a greenish hue.

Last step, red rim light from the fading sunset behind the character.

Since it's rim light I just work with normal blending mode. Setting it to add or something of the sort would make the rim light brighter than the source of the light. And it'd be odd.

And that's it. I usually throw on some post processing in Snapseed. Pull some curves, throw on a bit of grain, etc. But it's a topic for another time.

In conclusion, try to think about the environment more when shading. What route does light go through to reach where you're coloring? Did it reflect off of any colored surface? Did it pass through something transparent to gain a different hue? What color shadow would this ambient lighting produce? Go have fun with your colors now.

#art tutorial #anthro #insect #moth

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etoiile · 5 months

Text

MYSTERY MAN

starring itoshi rin!

synopsis: you decide to go watch rin's football practice for the first time, much to his delight. his teammates struggle to figure out who you are and what you've done to their usually very grumpy rin.

requested by @checkoutmyflow! i hope i did your rq justice ^^

notes: first time completing a request! sorry for the wait >.< ALSO this is gn!reader :)

admittedly, you weren't much of a football fan, even though your boyfriend was a professional college player. you didn't really understand the sport, as you hadn't played it since second grade gym class, but for some reason, you had decided that today, on this sunny tuesday afternoon, you were going to drop by rin's practice alongside a football-for-dummies book to watch and hopefully learn a little about the sport he was so enamored with.

it would appear that they were in the middle of a practice match, as his teammates and him were wearing different colored pennies, and there was someone keeping score on a whiteboard.

you sat down on the bleachers quietly, not wanting to distract anyone from the game. your eyes scanned the field quickly, almost instantly finding rin's unique dark green hair. you tried your best to keep up with what was happening, quickly flipping through your book whenever someone did something cool to try and find it, but it proved to be quite difficult, and you found yourself very confused at the sport's intricacies.

despite your lack of understanding, the one thing you could observe and comprehend was how alive rin looked whilst playing. he was sweating, shit-talking, and scrambling around the field non-stop, clearly very tired, but his eyes had a certain glimmer to them that you didn't get to see often, and he moved around the field with immaculate grace and precision. you watched as he skillfully maneuvered around the field and how he seemed to be able to calculate exactly where his opponent would go. you didn't have to understand the sport to know that this field was a place where itoshi rin shined like no other.

rin took hold of the ball and began dashing across the field with it, his shiny hair blowing behind him. his eyes began darting around the field, his brain taking in and calculating every factor necessary to victory.

his brain certainly didn't expect to see you, his lovely s/o who knows nothing about football, sitting on the bleachers.

your eyes made contact for a brief moment before rin tripped over his own feet and flew forward, making literally everybody on the field stop what they were doing.

a brief moment of silence washed over the field before laughter soon took its place, his teammates jogging over to him asking if he was ok, and what the hell just happened as they howled in mirth.

he grumbled some excuse with red cheeks as he looked away, clearly very mortified. his coach decided to call a break, seeing as everyone had already stopped playing, and he grabbed his water before practically sprinting over to you.

"y/n," he breathed as he came to a stop in front of you, puffing a little from fatigue. "you're here."

you giggled. "hi, rin. i thought i should come watch one of your practices. i want to get to know all the aspects of your life, after all."

he leaned in closer to you to brush his hand against yours as you two chatted a bit. anyone could see the way his eyes softened as you spoke and how his shoulders relaxed at your every move. anyone even being his pretty-damn-stupid team.

in the distance, bachira, isagi, chigiri, nagi, and reo murmured amongst themselves, wondering about who you were - the mystery person mr. im-better-than-you-and-grumpy-all-the-time rin looked so happy to see.

"his sibling, maybe?"

"nah, i'm pretty sure sae is his only sibling."

"oh! what about his parent, then?"

"dude, do you have eyes? way too hot to be a parent."

"his lover, maybe?"

there were a solid 5 seconds of silence before they burst out into laughter once more.

"get out. itoshi rin, an s/o? no way in hell, dude."

"i doubt he could even keep anyone for more than a month. they'd get tired of his attitude real quick and leave just as fast."

"rin-chan probably isn't capable of loving anyone, after all."

despite their adamant denial of your relationship with rin, they could all notice rin's demeanor. he looked happier, more at ease, gentler, kinder, and overall, he looked like a normal person. who were you, and what had you done to their rin?

coach blew his whistle, and they watched as you gestured for him to get back with his team. they then watched with their jaws on the floor as he, itoshi rin, POUTED and SWEETLY PLANTED A KISS on your forehead before jogging off.

they all exchanged looks of pure shock as rin jogged back to them.

they all gave him a shocked look as he raised a brow.

"...what?"

𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 ©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

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keerysfreckles · 5 months

Text

his neighbor — peter parker

pairing: tom!peter x f!reader

summary: after everyone forgot who peter parker is, peter had to move into a new apartment. the only problem with the new apartment is his happy-go-lucky neighbor.

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, maybe a couple curse words, a bit of angst (its sad peter okay!)

—

being the friendly neighborhood spiderman was easy.

being peter parker however, was quite the opposite.

it's been two and a half months since the world had forgotten who peter is. of course they still remember spiderman, but that didn't make peter feel any better. he misses his best friend. he misses his girlfriend. he misses the avengers. most of all, he misses his aunt may. her death hit him the hardest after the events with the other peters.

going into his empty apartment every night, being met with his bed and bare cupboards didn't exactly lift his spirits.

don't even get peter started about his neighbor across the hall. she always left her apartment when he did, and would be the first to start a conversation. tonight was no different.

"hey peter," y/n smiles towards her neighbor, before turning her key to unlock her front door.

all peter does is send a nod back, making y/n's smile falter slightly. "how was your day?" y/n asks.

"fine," peter grumbles after finally unlocking his door, and he slams it in y/n's face. the action makes the girl jump, even though this wasn't their first interaction like this.

as y/n made her way through her apartment she thought to herself, what could she have done to make peter so upset at her. she's been nothing but nice to him since he moved in a few months ago.

she even gave him a batch of chocolate chip cookies in one of her favorite containers when he first moved in. she still hasn't gotten that container back.

y/n finally drops the topic of her neighbor from her head after sitting on her bed with her favorite series displayed across her tv.

across the hall peter could barely feel his feet. his college classes seemed to last even longer than normal today. but to make his day even better he missed the train after his final class. so the thirty minute walk back to his apartment was really the icing on the cake.

he flung himself onto his twin bed and let out a sigh he knew he was holding in all day.

—

the following day was no different for peter. well, except he forgot to unlock his window before he left for his heroic duties.

peter punched the brick wall outside his window, as he clung to it with his other hand and feet. he absolutely didn't have the patience for the mishap. reluctantly, peter swung down the side of the building and was lucky to find his dark blue backpack he keeps hidden away under unused trashcans. he slips the outfit on that was inside the backpack before walking into the lobby of his apartment complex.

peter was so wrong when he thought his neighbor would've been in her apartment at this time of night.

yet here she was, with a grocery bag in hand and a key in the other.

"hi peter," y/n smiled again. her smile faltered before peter could even get a response out. "peter what happened?" she was quick to notice the black and blue mark starting to form around his eye, and the dark red blood splayed across his knuckles.

"it's nothing," peter simply responds.

"peter obviously it's not nothing. do you need help? anything?"

peter turns to y/n, and for the first time since he moved in, he actually looked her in the eyes. they were a different color than he thought they'd be, and he noticed how sincere she actually sounded about wanting to help.

peter hasn't been helped in a long time.

all he does is nod, since he's too scared to speak as his voice might fail him, and tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

peter unlocks his door and hears y/n's footsteps behind him. the girl takes a look around his apartment. the layout is similar to her own. the small kitchen in the corner when you walk in, with an even smaller living room, and barely a bedroom off to the side. the walls were painted a dark blue color, different than original color peter was first met with.

y/n followed peter to his bedroom, where he layed down and let out a hiss, as his back came into contact with his bed.

"where do you keep a first aid kit?" y/n asks, and follows peter's direction as he's pointing to the small bathroom connected to his room. y/n comes back quickly with the first aid kit, open, in hand. "can i?" y/n motions toward the kitchen, in need of water and paper towels. peter simply nods.

less than a minute passes until y/n's back in peter's bedroom, with all the supplies layed out on his bed.

"what hurts?" y/n asks.

"uh- my eye obviously," peter lets out a small chuckle, "my hands and my back."

y/n grabs the liquid ice pack from the first aid kit and is quick to get it in the freezer for peter's eye. she holds out her hand in return for peter's own. she tries her best to be gentle about getting the dried blood off his fingers, noticing the small noises peter lets out due to his pain. y/n can't help but apologize over and over whenever she hears peter's groans.

once y/n's satisfied with how peter's hands looked, she steps back into the kitchen for the ice pack. before stepping back into peter's room, y/n's eyes fell on an all too familiar pink container on peter's counter. her heart warmed seeing it was empty. so he did enjoy the cookies.

no words were spoken as she hands it to peter, before he carefully puts it over his left undereye.

"you uh-" y/n stammers, "you're gonna have to take your shirt off so i can get to your back."

"oh, right," peter remembers. he takes off his stretched out high school t-shirt and throws it somewhere in his room. y/n takes in the gash on his upper back, and the other scars littering his pale skin.

"what happened?" y/n finally asks, now curious to how peter got all these injuries. the new ones and old.

"it's nothing," peter responds, which only gets a small sigh from y/n. she didn't expect a proper answer from him, so she simply went back to making the boy feel better.

just like with his knuckles, she was quick to wipe the dried blood off his skin. which once again resulted in a few muttered curses leave peter's lips, and many apologies by y/n followed after.

as y/n started placing the gauze and tape over the open wound, both y/n and peter could feel the air in the room becoming thicker. y/n brushed off the feeling after running her fingers over the last piece of tape.

"all done," she smiles softly. "how's your eye?"

peter lifts the ice pack off his skin, and the swelling was surely going down. y/n was now sat in front of peter on his bed while running her thumb gently along the bruise. this time peter doesn't flinch from the pain, but from the contact from his neighbor.

"why have you always been so nice to me? when i've been nothing but a dick to you?" peter asks, his voice soft from the close proximity of the two.

"my mom always said to treat people how you'd want to be treated, since you never know what situation they're in," y/n replies, her eyes never leaving peter's.

"my aunt always said stuff like that," peter responded, his voice getting even softer than before.

"i like the way she thinks," y/n smiles.

a moment of silence pssses between the two. "i'm sorry i've been nothing but mean to you," peter breaks the silence.

y/n shakes her head and her eyesbrows furrow, "you have nothing to be sorry about peter."

peter sighs and nods, yet he doesn't believe y/n's words. "are you okay here on your own for a bit?" y/n removes her hand from peter's cheek before standing up from the bed.

peter nods, "yeah, i'll uh come over if i need anything."

for the first time since peter's moved in, he smiled at y/n. y/n could've sworn her heart was going to leap out of her chest right then and there. ignoring the feeling, she simply leaned down and kissed the boy's forehead.

"bye pete," she sent a smile back, before walking out of his apartment and went inside hers.

peter layed back on the bed, and for the first time in almost three months, he had a real smile on his face.

all from his neighbor.

#peter parker #tom holland peter parker #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #mcu peter parker #marvel #mcu #tom holland peter parker imagine #peter parker imagine #tom holland peter parker x reader #tom holland peter parker x you #tom holland peter parker x y/n

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psychosonly · 6 months

Text

PHOTOPEA TUTORIAL / PHOTO FILTER FOR SKIN TONES:

a tutorial on HOW TO BRING OUT SKIN TONES if an image is 'too gray' (faded) or has too much of one (likely over saturated) color! this technique can easily be applied to icons that already have a border ! just put your focus on the base image / icon ! this works on relatively anything, including poc and non-poc. WHAT YOU WILL NEED: photopea...and your desired your base image(for example, i'll be showcasing inconsistent or otherwise dark/faded scene lighting, like twilight and saw). DISCLAIMER: not all lighting/images are the same, nor are psd colorings. while some colorings may be designed to bring out reds/yellows(which is the filters we'll be using in this specific example), others may mute them and you may have to improvise with whatever color the psd you're using is designed to focus on. this is just a general idea, you will have to explore as you see fit. it's all going to depend on your personal taste !

by the end of this, you should be able to manage results like this !

cool, huh?....anyway, on with the mechanics !

EXAMPLES:

[ BEFORE PSD ] [ SYNOPSIS ]

#01 / LEFT IMAGE ABOVE: too much green, becomes muted with psd and doesn't show variety. #02 / RIGHT IMAGE ABOVE: the colors are very faded in this scene, and the pink focused psd in question made the image seem gray. we will start with EXAMPLE #01. i will be using the same PSD on both, a custom psd i made and focuses on reds/pinks.

as you'll see above the PSD has now been applied...but now it's kinda boring :// (there's nothing wrong if you don't mind how it is above, everyone's got their aesthetic choice—HOWEVER, we're aiming to add skin tone...)

once you have your image open, you'll want to go to image>adjustments>photo filter; i went ahead highlighted it in yellow for easy finding !

since this psd DOESN'T mute reds/yellows, (and those are usually the base of most/general skin tone combinations) i applied both a yellow and red filter. now, these colors i'll be using in this example, because they're in my default colors on the photo filter option—you can totally choose lighter or darker variants of these colors, or like i said, a different color altogether based on how the PSD you're using works. the toggle setting doesn't have to be exact to this example either—this is just what worked best on this image combined with the chosen PSD ! // RIGHT IMAGE IS THE FINAL RESULT AFTER APPLYING THE RED FILTER AFTER THE YELLOW.

repetition

this scene in particular is very faded, and the red feels a little blotchy/over saturated here...so i'll show you an EXTRA STEP you can use ! in saying this, you don't have to do exactly this; you can even choose to go ahead with selective color to fix your image, without doing the filters, if you find that suitable. but i'll be showing you the magic of selective color to balance out the red toned overlay.

same concept as before, just a different selection: image>adjustments>selective color. think of selective colors as "balancing" the colors. it does have a toggle selection for each color, which is super helpful, including diminishing or adding white highlights. given the PSD colors, naturally, i'll be focusing on yellow and red.

it's now got a general skin tone and red is not as blotchy !

[ FINAL RESULTS / CONSISTENCY WITH PSD APPLIED ]

this is a great hack i use quite a bit, it's great for maintaining consistency in your icons when the lighting is working against you...hope this was comprehensible and helpful, happy editing !

178 notes · View notes

lattaeyongs · 2 years

Text

summer of love (ljn)

original gif

↳ pairing: lee jeno x reader

↳ word count: 15.2k

↳ genre: ‘90’s!au, brother’s best friend!au, summer!au, neighbor!au, slice of life(ish)!au, fluff, slowburn

↳ summary: The summer of 1997 was a weird time. As a person living in the modern era, you’d completely forgotten what it was like to live in the ‘90’s. In May 1997, you listened to the Backstreet Boys, flipped through TV Guide, and had an answering machine which seems so archaic now. But that isn’t the only reason why the summer of 1997 was weird. That summer was the time you fell for your brother’s best friend.

↳ warnings: minor cursing, making out

SUMMER 1997

Your second year of college is over. You’ve taken your last exam, and it’s finally time to ditch your dorm and lousy roommate to go back to your childhood home for the summer. It’s a three-hour drive with no rest stops from college to your home, but it took longer due to the gas station stops to get junky, sugary snacks and coffee. But eventually, you made it back home in one piece.

Your childhood home looks almost exactly the same as you left it: The old, green, flowery wallpaper that your parents keep forgetting the change still hangs in the kitchen, the brown carpet in the entry hallway with the weird stain is still there, and the pantry still has an endless supply of potato chips. The only thing missing are your parents.

“Y/N!” Renjun exclaims, coming to hug you. As your older brother's arms lock around you, you notice how different he feels despite last seeing him only two months ago; prickly stubble pokes at your skin, and he definitely has been working out.

He parts from you, moving to the answering machine sitting on the kitchen counter. “Where are mom and dad?” You ask.

“Out,” he says abruptly, playing the messages in the machine before clearing them out. “They’re shopping to make dinner. They thought you would come back later. And by the way,” he continues, “Jeno’s coming over.”

“Okay,” you respond back simply. At this point, you’re used to Lee Jeno; he’s practically your family, in that the Lees live only a few houses from yours. It is honestly a wonder how Renjun and Jeno have remained friends since they were five-year-olds running around the neighborhood grafitti-ing the sidewalks with colorful chalk designs without growing apart or finding people more apt to suit their developing selves as time passes. It seems that instead of growing apart because of the new scenes and sounds in their adult lives, they were growing together like two parallel vines despite the distance they had to combat in college. When you hear the doorbell a few moments later, you know it’s Lee Jeno.

He certainly looks different than what you remember with dark hair this time and a slight tan. You haven’t seen Lee Jeno since winter break when he was staying with his parents across the street. Just like you and Renjun, he’s back home from college after the school year, and you’ve seen him around a couple of times a year with all the school breaks.

“Y/N!” Jeno smiles in that very Jeno way that makes everyone’s heart melt. He leans down a bit to meet your eyes, taking his thumb and forefinger of his hand and squishing your cheek. You playfully bat his hand away.

“Quit doing that!” You giggle with a pout on your face. “I’m not a baby anymore! I go to college!” You say incredulously, a little bit of a whine in your tone.

“You’re always a baby to me,” he teases. You roll your eyes at this, moving over to let him in.

“Jeno!” Renjun yells, ditching the answering machine. He rushes over to hug the other boy. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too Jun,” Jeno replies. You smile at the sight.

“Let’s play pool,” Renjun says. Jeno agrees, nodding. Both boys go to the basement where your family’s famous pool table resides (your father having gotten it for free from some bar closing in the ‘70’s), and Jeno shuts the door loudly on his way out. You’re about to rain on Renjun’s parade and tell him to come back and clear the answering machine he left behind, but you think against it. You didn’t feel like interrupting a friendship that is so beautiful. So you sit on the chair that Renjun recently left, pressing the ‘listen’ button on the answering machine.

As you listen to the promotional spam calls from companies trying to sell you things that you didn’t need or couldn’t afford, you purse your lips. Seeing Renjun and Jeno together almost made you jealous; none of your high school friends were back from college, and through the few calls you all would have during the school year, they’re off doing bigger and better things than this sleepy town that you call home.

That night you were going to sleep in your bedroom filled with cassette tapes, posters and pink and yellow wallpaper that you picked out when you were seven. After satisfactorily wrapping yourself in your comfortable blankets that smelled of lavender detergent (your favorite scent), you stare at the ceiling. You couldn’t imagine not visiting this place.

So you have a secret. No, not of the deep dark kind, but something that would definitely earn you a lot of teasing if your friends and family found out about it. One of your biggest guilty pleasures is the movie series The Zygon Kingdom, a science fiction franchise about alien invasions. Stereotypically, people think this series is for losers, gamers, and nerds who live in their mom’s basement. When you’re in public, you try your best to refrain from comment or make fun of the series alongside others, but in private, you secretly anticipate the new movies, going to see it immediately when it comes to theaters.

And that’s what you’re planning on doing today. Today is the release of the fifth movie of the franchise, The Zygon Kingdom: A New World. Finally, you actually had plans; you were starting to look pathetic with how much TV you were watching; your parents were even joking that the most recent book that you’ve read is the TV Guide that was mailed a few days ago. On top of not having friends to hang out with this summer, Renjun, a fresh graduate from a pre-law program, has been running around town trying to find positions to start paying off his degree debts and to gain experience while also trying to study for the LEET exam to qualify for law school. All your friends and family being busy would be depressing to you on any normal day, this comes to your advantage today, for you don’t want to be seen.

“I’m going to see a friend. Love you.” You say quickly to your parents. With how immersed they are in Full House, their marked TV Guide beside them, you could have said that you wanted to get a tattoo, and your parents would probably not bat an eye.

“Okay, be safe honey,” your mother says dismissively.

Leaving through the basement, you go to your car outside, unlocking the door. Obviously, you’re carrying your big tote bag so you could sneak in snacks; you even went shopping at the convenience store to prepare. Once you’re finished with the ten minute drive from your home to the movie theater, you look in both directions before entering the line in the lobby of the theater to get a ticket. You’re going to pay in cash, not credit to make sure that this can’t be traced back to you, and you pull out a large flopping hat that you have saved in your car, placing it on your head the second you step out of the car. Yes, you were being completely paranoid, but the last thing you want is someone recognizing you as you go into the movie theater or your parents looking at your credit card statement to see that you went to the movie theaters to view The Zygon Kingdom.

The time you spent waiting in line is filled with you looking around in all directions, making sure to avoid gazes of anyone that went to high school with or parents whose kids you babysat. Gossip travels fast, and you didn’t feel like finding out how fast. This is a whole covert operation – you get in and you get out, hopefully with your reputation still intact.

“One ticket to the new Zygon movie,” you say quietly. The woman sitting at the counter almost doesn’t hear you because of how quiet you are or how loud the chatters are of high schoolers and adults coming to the movie theaters after a long week, but either way, she gives you your ticket.

“It’s in room B,” You’ve gone to this movie theater enough to know where everything is without needing a map or extra time to find your way around. Since you took into account Friday night traffic and the length of the line, you have about five minutes before the movie starts.

“Thank you,” you say, smiling quickly. Keeping your head low, you move your neck around as if your head is a moving surveillance camera, still trying to make sure that no one you know is seeing you walk into room B, which has a huge blue and yellow poster of The Zygon Kingdom: A New World right next to the door. Once the coast is clear, you head into the dark movie room, finding row sixteen, in the middle.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” you whisper to people who you had to cross to get to your seat. The room is at half capacity; a few advertisements are playing on the screen, for now you have three minutes before the movie starts (but it will probably be longer since ads play for at least ten minutes after the movie is supposed to start to give people extra time). You find a spot in the middle row, which is where the majority of those few people are because you can get a good view of the screen and the audio would be loud but not too loud.

Pushing down the foldable seat, you sit down. Bringing your purse to your lap, you pull out a bag of chips from your bag, opening it before the movie so that no one gets annoyed at you for opening it so loud. You adjust your sitting position, letting your left leg cross over your right one, and in the dark room, you accidentally kick the seat in front of you. It’s a loud sound, and you slightly grimace at the pain in your foot now. The person in front of you turns around, and you feel like you lost the air in your lungs.

“Jeno?”

“Y/N?”

After the movie incident, you and Jeno realize that you actually have more in common than you thought. Apparently, Jeno is in the same position as you when it comes to high school or local friends. Just graduated from college, his friends have found well-paying starting positions and internships, and except for a few people, he’s also been bored at home. Instead of finding a job immediately or stretching himself thin like Renjun, Jeno decided that it was best for him to take a break mentally after college, and then he would be on the job hunt. So now you two have been much more inclined to meet up.

This would have never happened a year ago. Sure, you would hang out with Jeno when Renjun invited you to hang out with them, and you would even have a good time, but by yourselves, you were a bit more than strangers. Now that doesn’t seem so.

“I still can’t believe that you like the Zygon Kingdom. Liking the Zygon Kingdom is so not you.” You say, grinning at Jeno. “I would never have pegged you as a fan,” You and Jeno are at an ice cream parlor, enjoying the shelter of this building better than the merciless afternoon sun outside. Lee Jeno, a college soccer star who gets all the girls liking a cheesy science fiction movie? That’s not something you learn every day. Picking at his chocolate ice cream, Jeno smiles at you too.

“I could say the same for you.” Taking a bite of your ice cream, you cross your legs under the table, a slightly pensive look on your face. Leaning forward, you put your elbows on the white table. “So what else do I not know about you?” You ask.

“Well,” Jeno tilts his head. “I like to dip my pizza in honey.”

“I know that,” you say. “Back when you and Renjun used to order pizza at the house, you would always ask me where the honey is.”

“You remember that?” Jeno asks, surprised. You shake your head, a disapproving frown on your face. “I only remember because you’re the only person in the history of humankind to dip your pizza in honey. Honestly, how do you even stomach that?”

“The same way you can eat that mint chocolate chip ice cream you have here,” he says, pointing to your cup. You gasp in mock offense, and he only continues. “That stuff tastes like toothpaste.”

“To make up for what you just said, you have to tell me something that I actually don’t know about you.” Jeno grunts and this, and you wait, tapping your foot against the tiles annoyingly.

“When I was a sophomore in high school, I went to one of Ten’s house parties,” he stops for a few seconds, and you look at him, your gaze willing for him to continue. “He brought in eight kegs of beer from God knows where, and I had a few drinks.”

“Shut up!” You say, pushing Jeno’s shoulder from across the table. You’re absolutely astonished. “You, Lee Jeno, student council representative for your entire high school career, got drunk while going to Ten’s parties?” You only know Ten through his reputation, specifically his outrageous house parties that he throws whenever his parents are out of town that almost always end with the cops coming to shut it down. They’re always the highlight of your high school class’s weekend in your sleepy little town, where the mall or the park are the most interesting places to go. You’ve never been to one of Ten’s parties yourself since in high school, you were never much of a partier (and you didn’t have the ‘contacts’ to get invited anyway), but you’ve heard that he’s the definition of a privileged rich kid with money to burn.

“Yes, that was me.” he laughs. “And, it gets better.” You lean farther forward, your cheek propped up by your fist. “I was so drunk that I couldn’t drive home, so I called Renjun at like midnight to pick me up. When I came into his car, it smelled like perfume, and he had lipstick all over his face. Yeri Kim was in the back of his car.”

Your eyes widened. “No way! Renjun told me he was studying for a history test!” You remember this day in-depth because it was the night of the freshman dance that you went to with your friends.

Jeno smiles at your astonished look before clearing his throat. “I told you something you didn’t know about me and something you didn’t know about Renjun, so you better tell me something good that I didn’t know about you.”

You sigh, tilting your head upwards. Pushing your tongue against your cheek, you’re deep in thought before you spring up in your chair again.

“Remember when you, me, and Mark would all volunteer at Taeyong’s animal shelter?” You ask. During your high school years, you were in desperate need of Honors Society hours to make you look better on your college applications, so you ended up signing up to take care of unadopted pets, either rescue or lost. Jeno, Renjun, and a few of his other friends had the same idea since it would be easy to carpool.

“Yeah?” Jeno responds. Bringing your palm against your mouth, you shelter some giggles before Jeno has a curious look on his face.

“Y/N? What is it?” You lick your lips before inhaling sharply.

“While getting in the parking lot with Renjun to get something from your car, do you remember getting hit by a bunch of water balloons?” Jeno squints for a few seconds as if trying to connect some invisible dots, and after a few moments, his eyes widen, his mouth in an “o” shape.

“That was you?” He says, astonished. “I blamed Chenle for that for an entire year!”

“Yup, it was me,” you say, giggling in between words.

“Why did you do it?” He asks.

“It was supposed to be for Renjun, but then you got in the way, and by that time, I already dropped the water balloons.” Jeno purses his lips, as if trying to picture you in the situation you described. This only leads you into another laughing fit.

“You should have seen your face, I will never forget how hilarious you looked and how you were like ‘Chenle if you’re working the dog walking on the ceiling, then I’m gonna kill you!’” You snicker, imitating Jeno’s voice by making it abnormally deep.

“I do not sound like that.”

“I do not sound like that,” you imitate again. Jeno crosses his arms, a brow quirked.

“Okay, I’ll actually stop this time,” you say, giggling.

After a few moments, Jeno laughs with you. The prospect of no friends in town seemed unfounded today, for there is a friend for you that has been sitting under your nose this whole time.

You’re sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor as you organize your colorful array of CDs, different albums you’ve collected through various birthday monies and Christmas gifts. Not only are there CDs, but your shelf is loaded with cassettes. By this point, no one used cassettes anymore, but it was the easiest way to record songs from the tape radio and have to listen. You would simply put the cassette in your tape radio and press the ‘record’ button when radio stations would have their two hours ad free music. A mini cassette of free music was perfect to put in Renjun’s old walkman as you took a jog around the neighborhood. You learned this method two years ago from your father, who used this way to get free music in the ‘80’s, but now, you have a huge collection of songs that have become a pain to oragnize. You’re not exactly good at putting things back in their place, tending to grab your CDs and cassettes, use them, and then discard them on top of the little shelf you have.

Point is, this is an arduous task. This is why when you hear the phone ring in the living room, you run out to get it. Plus, if you didn’t answer it now, it would be your task to clear out the answering machine at the end of the day. So, now you had one less message to listen and clear out.

When you hold the house phone to your ear, you only hear a monotonous dial tone, signalling that the person hung up. You feel a little suspicious, but think nothing of it; sometimes, neighborhood kids find it funny to dial random numbers and not answering when the person picks up – like virtual ding-dong-ditching.

But your suspicion proves right when you feel wetness on your head. On the floor of your living room is a deflated balloon, and in your hair, you’re pretty sure it’s water. There’s only one person you think could be behind this, and he slowly comes out from the space he’s hiding in your kitchen. He smirks as he shows you a small corded phone connected to the wall, shaped like a lip (probably Jeno’s sister’s that he stole from her room). Before you can grab him in your kitchen, Jeno is running out onto the street.

“Lee Jeno what the hell?” You screech to the boy running down the street. You don’t bother to take your shoes, only closing the front door to prevent any animals coming into your house to take shelter from this hot weather. The heated pavement sings the soles of your feet as you run, but the feeling doesn’t bother you: you’re on a hot (literally hot) pursuit of Lee Jeno, and in the distance, you can see him.

“Damn these short legs,” you mutter. You run and you run through the neighborhood. Lee Jeno has you taking sudden turns, trying to get you to break your tail on him, but it’s unsuccessful. Finally when you’re close enough, you spring forward onto Jeno’s back. He sways at the sudden weight, falling to the ground. Thankfully, you’re on grass, which is cooler to the pads of your feet and breaks Jeno’s fall.

“What was the meaning of this?” You ask, pointing to your dripping head.

“It’s a little something called payback.” He smirks.

“Hey, there’s a difference,” you start off, “Mine was on accident. It was supposed to hit Renjun. Your’s was on purpose.” You cross your arms, pouting.

“Well, then this was supposed to teach you not to be mean to your brother.”

“Siblings in the same age group act like this all the time,” you say. You then put your index to your chin. “At least if you’re like me and Renjun.” If Jeno pulled something like this on his older sister Jihyeon, who is six years older than him, he wouldn’t survive to tell the tale.

The boy in front of you sucks in a big breath. “Let’s settle this once and for all then,” Jeno says. He comes closer, his body only a few inches from yours. “A game.” He smiles. “I have some water balloons at home. If you win–”

“You have to give me 20,000 won.” You finish. Jeno raises his eyebrow. “There’s a new Backstreet Boys album I want,” you say.

“Alright, fine,” Jeno says. “But if you lose,” Jeno stops midway, trying to bite his lower lip in a way to shelter the huge smirk on his face. “You have to clean my car.”

“Too easy, all I’ll need is a hose,” you wave your hand.

“Not the outside.” Your eyes widen at this new development.

“You mean…”

“Yup. The inside.” You’ve never been in Jeno’s car yourself since mostly when you would hang out with Jeno, it would be with Renjun, which means that you’re using Renjun’s car. But Renjun has told you, pretty infamously, that his car is messy and smells like a giant foot.

“That’s cruel and unusual punishment!” You say. Let’s just say if Renjun thinks it’s smelly, it’s probably smelly. Renjun has been a teenage boy before, and many teenage boys are a species that usually cannot detect the lack of hygiene.

“Those are the parameters of the game,” Jeno says. “If you resign now, that’s considered a loss, which means you have to clean my car anyway.”

You flatten your lips. Damn, you’re in a deadlock now.

“Fine. Game on.”

Lee Jeno destroyed you. But honestly, what else did you expect? Lee Jeno, who has played soccer his whole life and has had plenty of experience with strategy and planning, completely and utterly destroyed you. It wasn’t the smartest idea to go guns-blazing with water balloons at Jeno, but you didn’t have many other choices. Your long-distance aim and contact skills weren’t that good, for you never played “sports,” sports as in competitive sports since you only danced for a couple of years. You did use your surroundings well, hiding behind trees and bushes so you can stalk your way to Jeno, but that only did so much.

So now you are wearing an old T-Shirt and some jeans shorts, opening the front door and performing the ‘walk of shame’ as you walk to Jeno’s house, where boxes of unopened trash bags, air freshener, sponges, and soapy water sit.

Jeno is only a few feet away from the cleaning materials he left out, sitting on a beach chair.

“Y/N,” Jeno says, waving to you in a friendly way. “Thank God you’re here. I was worried you might happen to forget about the deal. I really need you right now,” Jeno chuckles, “because my mom wanted me to clean my car last week. She said that if I don’t clean my car by tonight, then she’s really gonna give it to me.”

“Good,” you say, laughing a bit to yourself. “Somebody’s gotta tell you. Back in high school, I was afraid to get in this car, or else I would never be the same again.”

Scrunching your nose, you peek your head inside Jeno’s car. It’s an old 1984 Nissan 300zx, most likely used because if his parents are anything like your parents (which not so surprisingly, growing up around each other, they are), they would never give their teenage sons brand new cars. The people in your neighborhood certainly aren’t tearing at the seams with money.

Gulping harshly, you decide to throw whatever junk you find in the car away. You pulled out wrappers, chip bags, old water bottles, and random coins that you pocketed (Jeno let you since even he knows how bad cleaning his car is – which is why he held off on it for so long). Jeno kept you good company, and you found yourself chitchatting with him as you organized every piece of junk in his car in a trash bag.

“Are you liking college so far?” Jeno asks broadly when chatter between you both slowly dies. No response.

“What’s wrong?” Jeno asks. He knows he’s right to think that when it takes you a few minutes to respond, a few moments for your gaze to focus on him.

“College hasn’t been that fun,” you confess to Jeno, the words falling out of your mouth faster than it should. “I haven’t made a lot of friends despite finishing my sophomore year, and my roommate is a pain. Her entire side of the room is so messy and acts like I’m unreasonable. It’s a small space anyway, she should keep it clean!” You huff, scrubbing the cloth seats in Jeno’s car harder. It felt as though a huge weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

You were surprised that you confessed this to Jeno of all people. When you told Renjun this freshman year, he advised that it would get better after the first semester, and your parents said the same thing, but nothing really changed. You’re going to university on a significant scholarship, and you didn’t want to give that up if you decided to transfer somewhere closer to home, closer to your support network of familiar places and people. Ever since then, you didn’t tell anyone how miserable you were in college.

“Can I make a confession?” Jeno asks suddenly. You were worried that you were being way too personal after Jeno didn’t say anything for a while; after all, Jeno is your brother’s friend and not yours.

“Shoot,” you say.

“I didn’t have many friends in college either. Why do you think I always hang out with Renjun every summer?” You’re piling all the trashbags together near the edge of the Lee property for the trash truck to come later today, but hearing this is enough for you to turn around and look at the raven-haired boy quizically.

“I don’t believe that,” you scoff. “You have teammates and a hundred girls who would tattoo your name on their chests immediately.”

“They’re just teammates and girls. I got along with my teammates, but I don’t talk to them on a regular basis after graduating college.” Jeno sighs. “And the girls who liked me in college liked me because I was ripped. None of them really wanted to know me personally.”

The silence between you both is deafening. You purse your lips, sympathy in your voice. “I had no idea.”

“Most people don’t,” Jeno says. “I try not to tell everyone this,” he says, a slight humorous lilt in his voice.

“Those girls missed out,” you say, a soft smile on your face. “You’re hilarious and great to be around.”

“It seems like I have that effect on the members of the Huang family,” Jeno smiles, any sign of melancholy gone from his face.

“Say,” you start off, bending down to reach the mat on the car floor. “if I find something I think is of value in this car, then can I keep it?”

Jeno nods. “Sure, I guess. I can’t imagine what could be of value.”

“Now I’m 20,000 won richer,”

Jeno’s back instantly becomes more rigid as he sees you wave a few crumpled bills in the air, almost unrecognizable due to the amount of dust and grime accumulated on it. A couple of coins here and there were tolerable for him to let you keep, but 20,000 won is a lot for loose change in the car. “I tend to find 20,000 won very valuable,” you smile.

Jeno curses under his breath. “Touche.”

“I guess we both won.” You shrug your shoulders, “You’re gonna have a clean car for your mom, and I have enough money to buy that Backstreet Boys album.”

Just the other day, you ran into Taeyong, the owner of the pet shelter you used to volunteer at. You were at the supermarket, picking up some groceries for your parents when you saw the man carefully weighing a bag of Roma tomatoes. Although he is almost five years older than you, it certainly doesn’t seem that way with how youthful his face looked, and when he noticed you putting bananas in your shopping cart, he was glad to see you. You both engaged in pleasant conversation about your lives since you volunteered at his pet shelter, and he mentioned to you that he was short of hands. Recently, a full-time employee quit, and he needed people more than ever. He offered you a job on the spot, and you gladly took it – you needed something to do this summer anyway, and your parents were starting to get a little restless with how much you were at home, revolving your life around TV Guide.

You had been working for a few days at the store and got to know the two other employees, one of which is Doyoung, who you already knew from your time volunteering at this shelter, and Sungchan, a boy around Jeno’s age who had been working for a year. Compared to the last time you saw this shelter as a senior in high school, not much has changed. The only thing that was different was that the walls were recently wallpapered.

Taeyong greeted you when you walked in, and you already started following a routine you set up for yourself; the good thing about hiring you was that he didn’t have to teach you much since as a volunteer, you would feed and wash animals a couple of hours a week, which as an employee, that was the same thing on a fuller time basis. In the mornings, you liked to start off walking dogs in the dog walking area on the roof before the sun would shine mercilessly in the afternoon. Carrying a light brown golden retriever puppy named Dasom, you head down the roof stairs back to the lobby, where Jeno is sitting on a hard, metal chair.

“Jeno?” You ask. “What are you doing here?” You don’t ever remember telling him that you would be here.

Jeno smiles at you. “Your mom told me I could find you here. And some other guy said you were walking a dog, so he told me to wait here.”

You nod. He must not have meant Doyoung since he would already know him from his time at the pet shelter in high school. “So you must have met Sungchan.”

Jeno shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess. He said he was going to wash some of the new arrivals.” While speaking, Jeno’s lips curled into a small smile. “Remember when we used to do that?”

“God,” you say, shaking your head. “That was one of the worst jobs.” You said. If there was anything that dogs and cats hated was being in water. New arrivals, especially strays, haven’t been introduced to clean water in a long time and can get especially rowdy since they are also untrained.

“There was one dog that me, Renjun, and Chenle had to wash, and let’s just say that it looked like we took a bath too!” At this, you both laugh.

You lick your lips, looking at Jeno, good humor in your eyes. “I almost feel bad leaving Sungchan all by himself.” Crossing your arms and leaning your back against the wall, you look at Jeno, your head cocked.

“So what are you really doing here?”

Jeno looks fondly in the distance. “I think Bongshik needs a new playmate,” you smile at Jeno. For as long as you can remember, Jeno has always been a cat person, and after much convincing, his parents agreed to get him a cat seven years ago. They initially were only getting Jeno the cat to help teach him responsibility, because as a teenage boy, he had none, but slowly, Bongshik grew on them too. Ever since, the Lee family’s soft spot has been Bongshik.

“Do your parents know?” You ask.

Jeno smiles. “They were the ones who suggested the idea.” As Bongshik grew older, his energy hasn’t quelled, and for the lack of neighborhood cats, he follows the Lee family around everywhere in the house.

“What breed?” you ask.

“Maybe a Bengal. I’ve heard that they are energetic.”

“I think there are some Bengals. Let’s check the back.” You both go into the room adjoining the lobby, where the rescue and stray animals were stored. After a long night with Doyoung yesterday, the cages were cleaned, and all the animals looked happy that it was clean. You both are greeted with excited barks from the dog section of the room, and finally, you approach the cats in another room. Cats of various breeds occupied the segregated space, from Shorthairs to Bobtailed cats. Black, white, gray, and tabbies are all present, and they look at you and Jeno quizically.

Jeno also observes the felines intently. “Actually, Bongshik is full of energy, so maybe a bit of a quieter playmate to contrast,” Jeno taps his chin, thinking to himself. Some cats wave their tails at Jeno as if wanting his attention while some other cat mothers wrap their tails around their young, protecting them. There are two cats that seem to take his attention, two cats that are sitting together. They don’t appear to have any sort of genetic or familial relationship, for one cat is white with a few specks of black around the ears while the other is a gray tabby with a white chest; they both appear to be Shorthair crossbreeds, though.

“Can I hold that one?” Jeno says, pointing to the white one with the few black specks. You open the cage with the master key that you have in your pocket, and carefully, you take the cat out of the cage. Jeno has his arms open, so when you place the cat in his arms, he cradles the animal, the most adoring look on his face. The other cat seems to be annoyed and meows a lot, its gaze on the white cat, and the white cat starts meowing back.

You and Jeno both melt on sight.

“So cute,” Jeno murmurs, putting the tip of his nose on the crown of the white cat’s head. This cat does not seem to be bothered that it’s being held by Jeno (when most cats take some time getting used to a new human). It is as if they were both destined to meet. This cat does turn to face his companion still in the cage once in a while, still meowing.

“I think this one’s more concerned that its friend is not being held,” you jest. You stand on your tiptoes to grab the other, carefully cradling the tabby in your arms. It starts meowing for its companion, and you face Jeno.

“This one’s also so cute,” Jeno says longingly. He comes closer to you, bending a little, his face close to the tabby that you’re holding. His smile is wide, his eyes shaped like crescents. Carefully, he holds the white cat with one cradled arm, and with the other, he uses his index and middle finger to pet the other cat. The tabby meows happily.

As Jeno tries to stand upright again, his head almost bumps your face, but he stops before that, carefully meeting your gaze. For what feels like an eternity, you both stare. Jeno’s eyes are like brown pools, and you notice every detail on his face; how dark and pronounced his eyebrows are compared to his suntanned skin, how pretty his nose looks against his face, the fringe on his forehead that is so close to giving a lovetap to his eyes, how shapely his chin is, a small, stray mustache hair kissing his upper lip…

His lips. Pursed slightly as he drinks in the sight of the little details of your face as well. They look a little chapped –

“There you are Y/N! Is that you Jeno?” A familiar voice rings across the large room, and you notice it to be Doyoung. His gaze is focused on you both. You and Jeno immediately stop gazing at each other, as if Doyoung flipped a switch, and you both focus your attention on the raven-haired employee, his hair wet from a fresh shower. He usually comes to work at eleven or noon since he is not a morning person.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Jeno says, waving before repositioning his other hand to hold the white cat in his arms.

“Long time no see,” Doyoung remarks. “How’s college?” He asks.

“Graduated in the spring,” Jeno says. “I’m back with my parents now.” He says.

“Oh,” Doyoung says, nodding awkwardly. “Well, if you want a job, the door is always open here. Trust me, we need the help,” Doyoung says.

“Thanks,” Jeno says, smiling courteously at Doyoung. “I’m actually here to look for another cat. Maybe two,” Jeno looks at you, an eyebrow raised in anticipation. Suddenly, he sneezes.

“Jeno,” you chastise. “What about your cat allergy?” You suddenly remember. Jeno learned affirmatively after adopting Bongshik that he had a cat allergy, and his sister and parents tried to convince him to give Bongshik back to the shelter, but Jeno vehemently refused. After almost a month of bonding with the feline, he didn’t have the heart to give Bongshik back. Instead, he went to the drug store and got some anti-histamines to suppress his allergies and eventually got more personalized medicine from his doctor. At first, his doctor said the best (and cheapest) course of action would be to return Bongshik, but Jeno just took the prescription and has since then been refilling his prescription on a regular basis.

“What cat allergy?” Jeno asks, but he sneezes a few times. Cocking your head at the raven-haired boy, you snort.

“That cat allergy?” You say, leaning all your weight on one leg.

“It’s nothing,” Jeno says dismissively. “I’ll ask my doctor. I’ll probably just have to up my dose.”

It was Doyoung’s turn to snort. “Can you really be around three cats every day?” He asks. “The only reason your allergy didn’t get out of control while you were volunteering here was because I kept you with the reptiles.” You nod in agreement. The reptiles were kept in another room on the far side of this shelter, far away from all the cat hair floating around in this room. Jeno, though, still used to sneak a few minutes with the cats.

“I can be around three cats!” Jeno says defensively. By this time, the white cat is rubbing itself against Jeno’s T-shirt.

Feeling this, Jeno’s gaze softens, and he smiles at the kitten, whose brown eyes Jeno looks in to. “I am going to name you Seoli,” Jeno says in a soft tone and gazes at the cat in your arms. “And I’m going to name you Nali.”

“Did your parents agree to two new cats?”

“Well,” Jeno trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

“Lee Jeno!” You say.

“My parents grew to like Bongshik. They’ll grow to like Seoli and Nali.” Jeno reasons.

You roll your eyes. Lee Jeno is the only person in the whole world you know who has a cat allergy and still wants three cats. “Lee Jeno, you’re crazy, you know that?”

Seoli and Nali instantly got along with Bongshik. The three of them would sleep together, eat together, and roam the house together, only being apart momentarily. Like Jeno predicted, his parents grew to like the addition of Seoli and Nali to the family.

Hearing about the new cats from you, Renjun would visit Jeno, and you would come along with them and play with all three cats. Renjun started joking that you two started being best friends without him and that you were leaving him in the dust.

Renjun started a new job as a paralegal and became busier than ever; he was working to save enough money to live in an apartment closer to the law firm he worked at, which is forty-five minutes away from your house. The commute itself was tiring and he was working extra hard to get along with his coworkers, going to events, and establishing contacts.

Like many weekends, this weekend Renjun was hanging out with a few coworkers at a party at one of their houses, and normally, you didn’t mind this, only joking to him that he only came home to eat and sleep.

In mid-July, without fail, you and Renjun would always go to the beach, ever since he was old enough to drive; it was valuable “sibling time” that your parents supported and even suggested; as teenagers, you didn’t always get along, and your parents wanted you both to establish a close relationship because sibling relationships were the only life-long relationships.

This weekend, Renjun was busy, and for the next few weekends, he would be catching up with old friends and would even go on a few dates, for his dating life was pretty sparse with how busy college was. You were hoping that Renjun could blow someone off and come with you and not break the tradition, but your hopes did nothing to change reality after Renjun told you about his plans and apologized that he wouldn’t be able to come to the beach with you.

So you decided, if you can’t bring your brother to the beach, bring your brother’s best friend.

At 7 AM on a Saturday, you knock on Jeno’s door, a few doors from your house, dressed in a casual T-Shirt and jeans shorts. You’re ready to go, without a doubt in your mind that Jeno won’t come.

Jeno answers the door, rubbing his eyes. From the looks of the dark house, Jeno’s parents aren’t awake. As a means to hold himself up, Jeno leans against the door. He’s dressed in long pajama bottoms and a black T-shirt (that is littered with Seoli’s white cat hair). The white, spotted cat follows Jeno to the door, sitting a few feet away from the living room couch.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asks, his voice heavy with drowsiness.

“We’re going to the beach, obviously,” you say matter-of-fact, in a voice that Jeno didn’t look like he wanted to argue with. He knew that you were hurting because Renjun couldn’t come with you to the beach any time soon, so he was ready to be called to go to the beach.

“Right now?”

“Yes right now. Don’t you remember that Renjun and I would leave early in the morning to get a head start to the beach?” The closest beach to your house is two hours away, and being landlocked during the college semester makes you restless for the yearly summer beach trip as well.

“Yeah I know but–”

“No ‘buts,’” you interrupt. “If we leave now, then we get the whole day at the beach. Be ready in thirty minutes.”

Jeno acknowledges with a sleepy grunt before closing the door, and you head back to your house to eat breakfast. If you left hungry, then you would be tempted to stop along the way for snacks, making the drive longer. So you ate a hearty bowl of oatmeal, a banana, and drank a glass of water before seeing Jeno standing at your door twenty-five minutes later with one of his sister’s peach-colored tote bags hanging on his shoulder, in casual shorts and a T-shirt, and a navy colored cap covering his black hair. You already had your things ready in a bag next to the dining room table, and you carry your bag and exit out the front door, saying a quick goodbye to your parents.

Out on the porch, you jog across the driveway to Jeno, and your parents wave to him. “Have fun guys,” they chorus, smiling. You roll your eyes.

“It’s like they’re leaving us on a playdate,” you say, and Jeno smiles, the tiredness in his eyes long gone.

“Want to ride in my car? After all, it’s clean now,” Jeno says. You sigh, but it’s not exasperated or tired.

“I should know,” you say.

Jeno’s Nissan sits in its usual place on the driveway, and Jeno takes his keys from his pocket, unlocking the car. As you both load your bags onto the back seat, you breathe in the air. “Minty fresh,” you smile, looking at the tree-shaped car freshener hanging on the rearview mirror. “You better keep this car clean because I am not cleaning it again,” you threaten, pointing your finger accusingly.

“I pinky promise,” Jeno says, he extends his hand, his pinky out, and you grasp it with your pinky, pinkies locking as well as your gazes.

Jeno’s hands are way softer than you expected.

The pinky promise lasts way longer than you expected, with you quickly pulling away and getting into the front passenger seat of the car. Jeno hops in the driver’s seat, and the car starts.

Jeno’s driving is smooth, and through the window, you admire the scenery. You pull out of your neighborhood, driving on local roads for a good few minutes, and you admire the beautiful scenery of houses, shrubs, and picket fences before getting on the highway. Now, cars are zooming past you both, of all sorts of shapes and colors, minivans to sport cars, black, white, gray, and silver.

“Turn on some music,” Jeno prompts. It’s easy to get distracted on the road, not by external forces such as a random bird flying by, but from the lull of the car when driving on the highway – when driving on the highway, the roads look the same, a cause for boredom and tiredness. The steady humming of Jeno’s car is particularly relaxing on this early morning.

“I thought you would never ask,” you say, in a voice that sounds mischievous. You twist your body to reach the back of the car, and you reach into your bag, fishing for something. When you pull it out, Jeno rolls his eyes.

“Seriously?” Jeno groans.

“What? You said you wanted music,” you say defensively.

“I didn’t mean the Backstreet Boys.”

You don’t listen to him and instead press the ‘CD media’ button on the front dashboard and insert your CD. The music is catchy, and you hum along to the songs that you’ve loved, namely ‘I’ll never break your heart’ and ‘Everybody.’

“I’ll never understand girls. I mean, what’s the appeal of boybands anyway?” Jeno says after some time.

“It’s the group dynamic, the interactions, the teamwork, and the songs are catchy as –” you stop yourself, cocking your head at Jeno. “Are you nodding along?”

“N-No,” Jeno stutters, purposely keeping his gaze fixed on the road so he doesn’t have to face you.

“Admit it,” you say, a smug look on your face. “You like it.”

“No, I don’t” Jeno argues.

“Yes, you do,” you argue back.

“No I don’t,” Jeno repeats.

You snort at this. “Look at us, we sound like two five-year-olds.”

“I think,” Jeno says with a joking lilt, “that we sound like an old married couple.”

“That too.” You look at the boy, an eyebrow arched.

After a few moments of silence, Jeno changes the topic. “I’m hungry,” he says. “Let’s get some instant ramen.”

“Where’s the microwave, genius?”

Jeno pouts. “Fast food?”

“We’re gonna be there in like fifteen minutes. I have some snacks in my bag.” Once again, you reach for the back of the car, fishing inside the tote bag for a bag of Cheetos.

“Here,” you say, holding the bag towards him.

“I’m driving, genius,” he says, emphasizing the last part in a mocking tone. You roll your eyes.

“I guess you’re gonna have to feed me,” Jeno says.

“Seriously?” You groan.

“Yes. If I could open the bag with my eyes and feed the Cheetos with some mad telekinesis, then I would.”

“Well, you would have to keep your eyes on the road, so you still couldn’t do that either.” Jeno grunts at your response, and you silently feel a small victory winning this conversation.

You open the bag and take a Cheeto in your left hand. Jeno opens his mouth, and you place the piece in his mouth. He crunches on it, and when you see his Adam’s apple move as he swallows the snack, you reach in and grab another piece. On and on this pattern goes until there are no Cheetos left in the bag, and at the final time you drop a piece of the snack in his mouth, he playfully clamps down on your fingers.

“Jeno!” You exclaim.

Jeno has a youthful, playful look on his face. “That’s what you get for forcing me to listen to this crap.”

“You like it too!”

Jeno rolls his eyes. “Here we go again.”

The rest of the car ride is filled with laughs, as though you were supposed to bring Jeno along to the beach this year instead of Renjun. The beach is filled with people wanting to soak up some sun, children playing games, and surfers swimming in the water. Luckily, there’s enough beach for everyone; the sands on this beach are well-maintained, and they go on for miles.

Suddenly, you grab the boy’s wrist, and Jeno looks surprised, a cute doe-like expression on his face (Jeno has the most beautiful, expressive eyes).

“Come on,” you say, a wide smile on your face. “I’ll show you a nice spot.”

Together, the two of you are lugging your tote bags across the beach, careful not to step on anyone being buried in sand or children playing games or other people sunbathing. It’s like the sand wants to absorb your feet, which is why your steps are labored, along with the load you are carrying.

The spot you take Jeno is more secluded, with sparse surfers coming about here and there. It’s next to a jagged, gray peak, perfect for divers. The small pieces of eroding rocks falling to the water make it less kid-friendly, but it’s still a good spot if you want to relax and get away from the noise. Right here is where you decide to set up, a few yards from the shore where the cold seawater can’t touch you.

Carefully, you unpack your tote bag, set up your beach towel, and place a book on the sand. The beach was always a way for you and Renjun to relax together, talk about updates in your lives, and strengthen your relationship. But sometimes you both liked to sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company while enjoying the words of an author, the introverts you both are.

Before sitting down, you also take off your T-shirt and shorts, revealing a navy, strappy bikini underneath. Picking up your book, you open it to the first page and sit down. Next to you, Jeno takes off his shirt, revealing toned abs. (What did you expect? He plays soccer). You don’t want to admit that your attention on your book is long gone.

When Jeno catches you staring, an immediate flare of heat hits your face, and you quickly try to bring your attention back to your book, starting at the first sentence. You’re unable to keep focus anymore, just re-reading the same sentence at least five times because your brain is too distracted to understand the sentence.

“You don’t have to look away,” Jeno teases. “Every girl wants a look at Jenabs.”

“That’s what you’re calling it? Jenabs?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?” Jeno asks.

“Obviously. It sounds so self-centered,” you huff.

“You’re just lashing out because I caught you red-handed.”

“Maybe you’ll get a red hand to your pretty face,” you challenge, a humorous look in your eyes.

“Ah,” Jeno says thoughtfully. “You think I’m pretty?”

Another hot flare hits your cheeks, with the heat of a thousand suns. “No,” you say.

“Yes,” Jeno counters.

“No,” you repeat, this time more confident. By this time, you both are gazing at each other intently in silence, until suddenly, you start laughing. Jeno does too. It was one of those times when the moment seemed so serious, but the argument was just so silly.

“Just admit that you think I’m attractive,” Jeno says simply.

“Every girl with a pulse thinks you’re hotter than a sidewalk in August.” You deadpan.

“I don’t care what they think,” Jeno says suddenly. You quirk an eyebrow at this statement. Quickly, Jeno recovers himself. “I care about what you think.” He smiles. “You’re the only person I’ve known that hasn’t ever brought up my looks.”

“Why should I?” You shrug your shoulders. “You know you’re hot.” At this you and Jeno laugh again together, but after a few moments, Jeno stops laughing.

“So you admit it?” Jeno asks curiously.

“Yes, I do.” You say sighing, hating that you’re giving him this victory. “Lee Jeno, you’re one of the most attractive men I’ve seen in my whole life,” you vow. “Now, can I get back to my book?” You ask.

“Fine.” Jeno obliges. He sits down on his towel laid out beside yours, lying down on his back as you read your book. His gaze changes from the ocean’s waves licking the sandy shores to the side of your face. You’re maybe a chapter in when Jeno interrupts your train of thought.

“Are you really gonna be reading the whole time?” Jeno whines. “I didn’t bring anything to do because I thought we were gonna go in the water.”

“Th-The water?” You ask. You look at Jeno as if he grew a second head.

“Yes, water. We’re at the beach per your request. Remember?” Jeno says slowly.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think–”

“You didn’t think about swimming at the beach?” Jeno asks incredulously.

“No,” you respond, your voice small.

“You’re literally wearing a swimsuit,” Jeno points out.

“Yeah, but that’s just to get a good tan,” you say. Now that you say it out loud, it does sound kind of ridiculous that you didn’t even make plans about getting in the water today. “And plus,” you say a bit awkwardly. “I don’t really know how to swim.”

It seems as though Jeno’s eyes are about to bulge out of his face. “You’ve been coming to this beach for years, and you don’t know how to swim?”

“I never really learned how. I mean, I did, but I wasn’t very good, and I’m super out of practice. I usually just come here to read or admire the scenery – Jeno!” You exclaim. Jeno snatches the book out of your hand and places it on the towel. He’s strong enough to hoist you up, and you’re left with no choice but to jog along with him to the edge of the shore, kicking up mounds of sand; you have a stinking suspicion about what he’s going to do.

“Today’s the day I’m gonna teach you how to swim.” He says.

“B-But,” you stutter, struggling for words. Jeno doesn’t look like he’ll take no for an answer.

“I promise I won’t let go of you, and we won’t go far from the shore.” He says, his gaze sincere. “Let’s start off with floating. Spread your arms out and kick your feet up. Act as though you want to lie down on the water like it’s sand. Like this.” Jeno demonstrates, going slightly away from the shore and deeper in the water, leaving you knee-deep, standing on the wet sand underfoot. Once Jeno has floated for a few seconds, he positions himself upright, everything except his neck and face submerged in water as he swims towards you, walking the last few steps to you.

“Now you try.” You look a little nervous but follow what Jeno says. You kick your feet up and try to treat the water like it’s the sand you rest your towel against; Jeno’s hand is on the small of your back as he holds you up. You’re not used to the feeling of water in your ears, and you’re struggling to stay afloat as you accidentally breathe in water. Hearing you cough, Jeno sets you upright, and you cough up the salty water.

“I don’t like,” you say between coughs. “The water in my ears. It keeps going in.”

“Trust me when I say that when you don’t want water to go in your ears and nose, it doesn’t. When you are thinking about water going into your ears and nose, it does. Now, let’s try again.”

“No,” you whine. “I don’t like swimming.”

“Please?” Jeno asks. “For me? After all, you did drag me out here so early.”

“Fine.” You relent.

“Like I said,” Jeno chides, “Kick up your feet and lie on the water like it’s sand. Don’t struggle too much right now. Unless you don’t think about the water around your ears and nose, it won’t go in.”

You repeat what you did earlier, kicking up your feet and lying on the water like it’s sand. This time you don’t move a muscle. You let the gentle low-tide waves of the water kiss your skin and wash over you again before it’s exposed to the refreshingly cool ocean breeze again. Jeno’s hand is against the small of your back as he leads you to deeper waters.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Floating is all the same. If you can float in knee-deep water, you can float in deeper water.” Jeno looks into your eyes. “Don’t worry, I still won’t let go.”

You don’t struggle against the water, and when you’re in the deeper water, Jeno helps bring you upright on the water. This time, your feet are unable to touch the ocean floor, and before the panic can settle in your eyes, Jeno is holding your waist.

“Upright floating works the same way. Don’t struggle. Hold your head up high.” You follow as Jeno says and observes how he does it. Jeno slowly takes his hands away from your waist and holds your arm instead. Slowly, he lets go, and here you are in front of him, swimming; you’re pretty amazed too.

“Oh my God, I’m doing it!” You say excitedly. Jeno shares your excitement.

“I know. To think you wanted to give up,” Jeno shakes his head.

Your bodies are close, so close that you can feel Jeno’s breath on your nose. Jeno looks almost angelic with the way the salty water glistens against his face as if his skin is made of diamonds. His jet-black hair is stuck to his forehead, and your hair is in thick, salty strands, but the moment still feels perfect; the shouting of children in the distance doesn’t bother either of you.

You almost want to ki–

Suddenly, you’re taken out of your thoughts when a splash of cold water hits your face. Jeno has already swum a few feet away, the culprit of the cold splash on your face.

“Tag! You’re it!” He says in between giggles.

“Jeno!” You exclaim, trying your best to swim and splash him.

He’s the most handsome, adorable dork you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Every summer, city council organized a summer concert series held at the local park. They mostly featured student bands, cover bands, and lots of vendors. But most importantly: they were free.

The one happening tonight was the last one of this year’s series, and there would be fireworks. You hadn’t been able to attend the last few summer concerts because of your growing responsibilities at the pet shelter; you were becoming pet manager, a position where you would inventory what animals were available to adopt, and the numbers were changing every day. Also, Doyoung had gone on vacation along with many of the volunteers, so you, Taeyong, and Sungchan were left to cover for them.

Tonight though, you were given the day off, so you decided to see if Jeno was free to go to the concert with you.

You tell your mother your intentions, and when you’re done talking, she gives you a sly look.

“You’ve been hanging out with Jeno a lot recently. Is there something I should know about?” She asked. She doesn’t ask this in a condescending, strict-parent tone, but of one as a friend. For the most part, your mother was always the woman you came clean to and got advice from; there were truely only minal secrets you kept from her.

“Yeah Y/N, is there something we should know about?” Renjun asks.

Renjun. For a while, you had completely forgotten about him. He had started getting suspicious recently that you were harboring feelings for his long-time best friend. After the beach trip, he started getting suspicious, but he had been too busy to do anything about it, only sulking in the corner thinking about it.

You had to admit that you had a little crush on Jeno, in that every time you thought about him, your heart started racing in an exhilarating way. Maybe when Renjun was around, you weren’t as slick as you thought you were. “No,” you say, a little quieter than you meant for it to be. You clear your throat, making your voice louder. “Nothing’s going on. Jeno’s always available to hang out, which is why I’m hanging out with him.”

Your mother doesn’t say anything, knowing Renjun is in the room. Most likely, Renjun was worried that if you and Jeno got into a relationship, it would mess up the long-time friendship they had, and if you broke up, it would be even worse. You understood his sentiment, but it’s not like Jeno likes you back…

Right?

The way he looked at you, the way that when you talked, he was fully attentive, his soft, expressive eyes reacting, listening to every word you say.

That’s just because you guys have become good friends, right?

(A part of you wishes that it isn’t).

You’re wearing your standard summer uniform of daisy dukes and a T-shirt when you walk up to Jeno’s house and the door opens before you knock. Jeno is standing at the entrance of his house, already dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt, showing off his strong arms.

“Jeno,” you say. “Do you want to go to the summer concert together?” You ask.

“Actually,” Jeno says shyly. “I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

“Great.” Jeno invites you in and asks if you want anything. You said you would just have some water. He pours you a glass before heading to his room to grab a towel and some bug spray. Stepping outside, you both spray yourselves, and when he goes back inside to put the bug spray away, he tells his parents that he’s going to be out and will be back before ten.

The park is a short drive from your neighborhood, and it is just as scenic as you remembered it to be. It’s about sixty-something acres filled with walking trails that loop around your city, which city council has tried hard to have more “green” city planning, rather than letting this place become a concrete jungle.

In this park, there is lots of green space for people to lay their towels across the grass and enjoy the music. Most of the people here are young parents with budding families, in which a family-friendly free concert with a packed picnic and fireworks is the perfect summer activity. There are also older people like you and Jeno, showing up to the concert today because they were bored. The beginning of August signaled to high schoolers the start of school, and to college people that they would be moving back to their dorms soon. Either way, the park is packed. Tonight isn’t as hot and stuffy as most nights, which also accounts for why there are so many people here tonight.

“What’s the theme for this concert?” You ask Jeno when you hop out of his car.

“‘70’s American rock,” he says.

“Fun,” you say. You weren’t an avid rocker, but you turn on the oldies radio station, you didn’t mind listening to a few rock songs. “It’s better than working at the pet shelter every single night.” Jeno laughs. You loved your job more than anything, but you wanted a semblance of work-life balance.

“Now I’m glad I didn’t take up Doyoung’s offer immediately,” Jeno says.

“It isn’t usually this bad,” you say. “It’s just that Taeyong and many volunteers are on vacation, and I’m being given more responsibilities.”

“Maybe I could come in and volunteer just to help you out,” Jeno says wistfully. “I’ll have to find time in my schedule,” he jokes.

You raise a brow at the boy. “In your schedule of doing nothing?” You snort.

“It’s not nothing,” Jeno counters. “I’m just relaxing before finding a job. Jobs are going to be there after I take a little break from college,” he says. Renjun wouldn’t ever be caught saying something like this. For him, it’s always one thing onto the next. Renjun is a restless man, and taking a break without a job would drive him crazy.

While Renjun is ridiculously Type A, Jeno is the opposite. He’s used to opportunities coming to him, believing that everything has a way of working out in the end. It’s crazy how the two have managed to be friends with such vastly different outlooks on life.

You drop the topic, opting to lay out the towel that Jeno brought. There’s enough space for both of you to fit… but tightly. Even though you’re wearing bug spray, the sharp, freshly cut grass makes your skin feel itchy.

“I guess we’re gonna have to sit like this,” you say a little awkwardly. Jeno turns to face you, his face only inches from yours; your arms brush Jeno’s biceps, and you feel your throat become dry.

“Yeah,” he says softly. No witty reply.

The silence between you is broken by the cheers of the audience. The performers are here.

“What’s up Neo City?” The head performer asks the audience. He’s a man in his mid to late twenties, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. Cheers are the response, filling the air.

“We’re Neo Culture Tech, and today we’re going to be performing some covers to end Neo City’s 1997 Summer Concert Series! We hope you enjoy the performance!” The man stops talking, and the park erupts with cheers.

The first note is played on the piano, followed by the addition of drums and electric guitar. The songs go on one by one, and Neo Culture Tech plays popular songs by the Eagles, ACDC, Fleetwood Mac, and Def Leopard. Parents are dancing with smaller children, singing along to the songs they listened to in grade school, while younger people sit on their towel and jam out to the songs less physically.

You and Jeno are bobbing your heads together to the music, stealing glances at one another. Jeno was able to sing along a little to ‘Shoot to Thrill’ and ‘Gold Dust Woman,’ while you were able to sing along to ‘Witchy Woman’ and ‘Hotel California’ after memorizing the lyrics so long ago. As the guy who was playing the guitar played the guitar solos for ‘Hotel California,’ people cheered.

“Before we start the fireworks show, I’d like to end off with a banger. Everyone stand up and find a partner to dance with!” the lead singer said. With that, the band started the chords for ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’ by Def Leopard.

Jeno looks at you, a wry smile on his face. “Would you care to dance with me, partner?” He asks, holding out his elbow. You loop your arm in his.

“Of course.”

By this time, more of the younger people were standing up, dancing with their friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, or wives. You and Jeno were dancing, not caring how you looked, your hands clasping and unclasping as Jeno twirled you around to the rock song. You both sing along to the song, knowing the famous song.

When the song ends, you’re out of breath, your chest against Jeno’s, but Jeno doesn’t look very tired; there’s only a small drop of sweat pooling at his forehead, and he’s able to control his breathing. While the crowd screams, cheering for the band that just performed, you and Jeno are in your own world.

You feel like you know what Jeno’s thinking.

Slowly, you start leaning in, and Jeno follows your example. Before long, your lips land on his. You only want it to be a peck, but your body refuses to listen to your brain, so here you were, for what feels like centuries kissing Jeno. You weren’t going to struggle against your feelings anymore, you were going to float like you were at the beach.

Kissing your brother’s best friend.

Kissing the guy that all the girls in high school drooled over, the guy that got so many sports scholarship offers, the guy that many thought was infallible.

But he’s just Jeno, the adorable dork who’s stuck with your brother for almost their whole lives through thick and thin.

The adorable dork that you’ve helplessly fallen in love with.

Reluctantly, you both pull away, your breaths hitting each others’ noses. You’re almost to scared to look Jeno in the eye.

You just changed everything.

While you’re too busy not looking at Jeno, he takes your chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilts your gaze upward, to look at him.

When you look into his beautiful brown eyes, you realize that you didn’t change everything with one kiss. The feelings were always there. While you were slowly falling for Jeno, Jeno started slowly falling for you.

“I-I think I’m in love with you,” Jeno says, his voice unsure, lacking that cocky athlete tone that’s synonymous with Lee Jeno. While one hand remained holding your chin up to face him, the other hand was on your waist.

You didn’t think you ever wanted him to stop touching you.

“No,” he corrects himself, clearing his thoat. Seconds felt like hours, and your heart is racing like crazy.

“I know I’m in love with you.”

You think the loud beating sound is just your heart, but when you look up, the black sky is filled with color, expressive fireworks shining before dissipating. Red, orange, blue, and purple fill the sky before gray smoke settles and floats away. The park is oddly quiet while at least two hundred people enjoy the fireworks and are held by their boyfriends or girlfriends. You look up with Jeno in the same position you were, his arm still on your faces close. Your jaw is close to touching his collar bone, your nose almost touching his neck.

“I love you too.”

It’s probably one in the morning right now.

Ever since you and Jeno confessed your feelings, all you were doing was hiding your feelings around your family. You didn’t want Renjun finding out about your relationship just yet, and Jeno had the same idea. You and Jeno wouldn’t advertise to your families that you were hanging out, and most of the time, you met up at the pet shelter, where Doyoung was the only one who knew about the true nature of your relationship (after the unfortunate man walked in on you two making out in the janitor’s closet). You and Jeno forced him to promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone or even give any hints if he ran into your families; in small towns like yours, word travels fast.

Other than seeing Jeno at the animal shelter, you would sneak Jeno into your bedroom at night. A little part of you thrived from the danger you felt, doing something secret and slightly forebidden (nothing this exhilarating ever happened to you in high school or in college). You live in a one-story bungalow (like all the houses in your neighborhood), and your parents’ room is on the other side of your room, with the kitchen separating your rooms.

However, only a wall was separating you from Renjun’s room. You think you’re safe right now since through the paper-thin walls, you can hear Renjun soundly snoring to himself. The iceing on the cake was that Renjun is a light sleeper.

You hear a knock on your window, and you look to see that it’s Jeno. You’re in your pajamas, just a shirt with some pajama shorts, and you get off your bed, systematically opening the latch to your window. Pushing the window, it opens now, and Jeno opens it a little wider, enough for you to let him in.

He’s dressed in a T-shirt, sweatpants, and red, drugstore flipflops. He rubs his arm a little bit, a small scowl on his face.

“You should really trim that rose bush,” Jeno says softly, his gaze following to the rosebush that is near your window. Outside your window, you had a good view of the garden, and your mother took great pain to maintain that garden; your father often joked that it was her third child. For Jeno to get access to your window, he would have to wade through all the plants and flowers, careful not to step on anything because your mom would notice the next day. “I think it roughed me up pretty good.”

“Let me see,” you whisper, pulling his arm. In the minimal light that came from the almost full moon outside, you’re able to see clearly. It’s just a little scratch, that was slowly turning into a red line. No blood.

“You’ll live,” you say rolling you eyes. Sometimes Lee Jeno was the most dramatic guy that you’ve ever met.

Jeno pouts. “I think I would feel better if you kissed it,” he suggests.

You heave a sigh. “I swear to God,” you mutter. You lean foreward, pressing your lips against his arm. “That better?” You ask, crossing your arms and leaning your weight to one leg.

“How about one here?” He asks, pointing to his lips.

You laugh a little to yourself. “Greedy little–”

Jeno interrupts you. “Don’t act like you don’t want to.”

Standing on your toes, you lean in, your nose touching Jeno’s for a brief moment before your lips collide. Jeno’s hands gravitate towards your waist as he tries to push you against the nearest wall. He pushes you to the wall with the window he climbed into your room with. There’s only a narrow gap of space between the edge of the window and the bookshelf that houses all of your albums. He pushes you there, his knee finding its place between you legs. He grunts a little as his lips trail from your mouth to your chin to your neck. He slides you against the wall, your elbow hitting the edge of your bookshelf, and something goes flying off of the top of your bookshelf.

Immediately, you and Jeno jump apart at the noise when the object hits the floor. You’re thankful that the carpet muffles the sound, but it’s still audible since it hit the edge of the wooden door. You bend down to examine the fallen object, realizing that it’s just a snowglobe. You pick it up, putting it on your desk instead. No one stirs. Renjun is still in his room snoring.

“We’re supposed to be quiet!” You whisper loudly, putting your index finger to your lips.

“I’m sorry!” Jeno apologises.

“God, you lumber around my room like you haven’t been here before,” you joke. “How about let’s go into the bed where there’s less chance of making a noise.”

Jeno quickly agrees, and you both go into your bed, under the covers. Jeno’s arms find their place around you once more, and you put your head on Jeno’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. Jeno kisses the top of your head. After a few moments of lying like this in silence, your lips find Jeno’s again. You’re on top of him, him straddling your hips, but quickly, it turns into him on top of you. You both kiss each other with a new kind of fervor, but Jeno pulls away. “How long are we going to be doing this?” He asks. “I don’t know about you, but this whole sneaking around thing is getting kind of old. I just want to call you my girlfriend in front of people.”

You kiss him. “Just until I get the chance to tell Renjun.” You say. “I have a speech prepared.” You clear you throat, shifting your position in bed so you can face your boyfriend. In the dim light in which you can barely see Jeno, you can imagine his beautiful features, barely believing that you are his girlfriend. “I love Jeno, Jeno loves me, we want to be together, and you can’t do anything about it.” Jeno waits for more.

“That’s it?” He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “What else am I supposed to say?”

Jeno smiles. He finds directness to be one of your most endearing qualities. You aren’t scared to say what’s on your mind, even if it’s controversial. He puts a hand on your cheek and brings you closer to him, kissing you again. His lips smack against your’s and you’re pretty sure you can hear audible popping sounds every time you both mutually pull away for air, only meaning to come back.

When he pulls away, Jeno says. “Y/N, you should at least be a bit more considerate to his feelings. This is going to be a big change for him.” Jeno reasons.

You seemed to like the exact opposite of what Jeno sees in you. You liked the way he considered everyone, and although it sometimes makes it seems like he is a people-pleaser, people who are the most considerate to others’ feelings when it doesn’t align with their own are the people who are the peacemakers, the role models, the people who rule the world.

While you were the fire, Jeno was the water, who made you see reason. And your directness teaches Jeno to stand up for himself.

“I know, but if Renjun can’t accept it, then he needs to grow up.”

“I don’t think Renjun wants to grow up.”

After you hear the new voice, the lights turn on, and you and Jeno immediately jump apart to opposite sides of your twin bed (but it’s not possible without your bodies still touching). This only gives the onlooker a better view of the two parties involved. When you and Jeno finally decide to face the onlooker, you realize that it’s Renjun in his pajamas. He wasn’t wearing his contacts, but he doesn’t need them to recognize the two most important people in his life. His arms are crossed as he examines both you and Jeno, and together, you both struggle for an explanation.

“Surprise?” You and Jeno chorus together.

PRESENT DAY

Eventually, Renjun got over it. Or else, he wouldn’t have been able to give such a wonderful best man speech.

That’s right. After years of dating which helped you realize that no one was more perfect for you than Jeno, you and Jeno decided to get married in 2003 after you both were settled in your careers. Jeno, after a few months of relaxation, got a job at a marketing firm, and he worked his way up to become a lead account manager. You, after earning your degree in accounting, worked at a firm for a few years before quitting and becoming the book keeper at Taeyong’s pet shelter, which now you owned. Taeyong moved to his mother’s paid-off house in Seoul to take care of his aging mother, so he stepped down and gave you ownership of his beloved pet shelter. He now worked at his mother’s supermarket and visited you often.

Sometimes, it amazed you how far society has gone since your childhood. You would never have dreamed of touch-screen cell phones with the power of a full-sized computer or your fridge making grocery lists for you. It was convenient and fascinating, but at other times, this new world scared you; only recently has it been confirmed that your phone is listening to you and people are selling your online data.

“Kids, dinner!” You shouted up the stairs. Just after you were married, you became pregnant with your daughter, and five years later, your son came along.

“Coming,” your daughter Yoona said.

“Yeah!” Your son Hyuckjae yelled from his room. That wasn’t really an answer, leaving you signing by the kitchen.

Jeno is already sitting at the table, eating the meal that you prepared. It wasn’t that complicated, just some fried rice with some vegetables and meat, as well as potato soup since you were tired after your long day at work. You sat at the table next to your husband, and you know you don’t have to call for your children again when you hear thundering down the stairs. Yoona’s phone is glued to her hands, while Hyunjae finds his position next to Jeno. The food is on the table, but only three of you are eating; Yoona’s food remains untouched as she sits down and keeps her attention only on her phone, not acknowledging the presence of her family.

“Yoona!” You say, snapping in front of her face. Only when you put your hand between her phone did she actually look at you.

“What do you want mom?” She says, exasperated.

“Aren’t you going to eat your food?”

“Yeah,” she replies, “In a little bit,” Almost immediately, she only looks back at your phone.

“Yoona, put the phone away.”

“That’s right honey,” a new voice interjects, and it’s Jeno. “Put your phone away. We want to have a conversation.” Jeno adds.

“About what?” Yoona asks. She finally puts her phone down and looks at you both. “Are you guys having a midlife crisis?”

“Midlife –” Jeno stops.

“We’re not even that old yet!” You exclaim.

“Yeah Yoona,” Hyuckjae adds.

“Shut up Hyuckjae,” Yoona says, her voice snarky. “Buttering up to Mom and Dad isn’t going to get you a phone.”

“Says who?” Hyuckjae argues back. “Mom and Dad didn’t say anything.”

“Hyuckjae, you’re not getting a phone,” you say stubbornly.

“Oh come on, Mom!” Hyunjae whines. “I’m the only eighth grader without a phone!” Hyuckjae counters.

“Me and your father didn’t have a phone at your age. You’ll live.”

“That’s because you guys lived in the stone ages.”

Jeno scoffs. “The ‘90’s weren’t even that long ago.”

Yoona cocks her head. “The ‘90’s are in history books now.”

You and Jeno both look at each other, but Yoona continues. “The ‘90’s were like thirty years ago.”

You knew that time had passed, but it never really occurred to you the quantifiable number of years; someone born in 1990 is in their thirties now. You vividly remember 1990, being a thirteen year old. Jeno was fifteen. You wonder how he’s feeling.

“That doesn’t change why you should have a phone, Hyuckjae,” you say.

“What about schoolwork? I’ll be in high school in the fall.”

“You can use the family computer.” Hyuckjae groans; the desktop in the computer room right off the entrance of your’s and Jeno’s suburban home (originally the formal dining room) is a Windows 8.1, and somewhat slow.

“Hyuckjae, we’ll get you a phone your first month of freshman year, just like your mom and I agreed on.” Jeno says cooly. “That’s when Yoona got her first phone.”

Hyunjae grunts. “But that’s so long from now.”

Noticing how the conversation mainly was between you, Jeno, and Hyunjae, Yoona gestures to pick up her phone when you point at her.

“Don’t even think about picking up that phone right now, young lady,” you say pointedly, and Yoona’s hands immediately back away.

“Right that conversation we’re going to have,” Jeno says, redirecting the topic. “How was everyone’s day?”

“That’s the conversation you want to have?” Yoona says.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” You ask, defending Jeno.

“Nothing…” Yoona trails away.

“I’ll start,” you say. “I had an overall good day. Taeyong gave me an extra 15% off groceries instead of 10%.” It was incredibly convenient that Taeyong’s mother’s supermarket was only eight miles from the pet shelter.

“Nice,” Jeno says, smiling in that same boyish eyesmile that you fell in love with all those years ago. “I had an average day. It would have been good, but the coffee machine in the cafeteria broke,” Jeno sighs.

You and Jeno both turn to look at Yoona. “I had a good day, I guess. I got a 100 on my calculus test.”

“Great job!” Jeno says. You reach over to rub Yoona’s shoulders.

“You see? I told you it would benefit to go to calculus tutoring,” you say.

“Hyuckjae? How was your day?” Jeno asks.

“Not good. You guys aren’t getting me a phone.”

“We just said we would!” You exclaim. “When you’re a freshman.”

Hyuckjae grunts at this and stands up, heading towards the sink to clear the remnants on his plate. You didn’t realize that Yoona and Hyukcjae had been eating particularly fast tonight, evident by their nearly empty dishes.

“I’m going to the computer room,” he says, not waiting for a response when he leaves. Shortly after, Yoona is done with her food. After rinsing her plate, she leaves it in the sink and snatches her phone off of the dining room table (as if you were going to take it and look at the texts on the notification bar).

“I’m going to my room,” she says. She waits for you to say a resigned ‘okay,’ and she heads up the stairs, sparing no time to look at her phone.

“What could be so important that she can barely stay a free moment without her phone?” You voice to your husband. You and Jeno are taking your time eating your meal at the table, now by yourselves.

“What isn’t so important at that age?” Jeno says before slurping the soup collected in his spoon. “When you’re a teenager, you see things with a different perspective than you would see if you were a mom, for example.”

You sigh at these words, the fresh perspective that your husband is giving you that you failed to see initially. Jeno is good at seeing all sides of the situation; that’s why Renjun always goes to him for advice.

“I guess,” you say, crossing your arms. “I can’t imagine being a kid right now.”

“I bet Yoona and Hyuckjae can’t imagine being a kid in the ‘90’s.”

You sigh. “Things really have changed, haven’t they?” When you and Jeno were younger, you weren’t trying to get the best gadgets to impress your friends, you didn’t have advanced TV’s and vacuum cleaners that were listening to you, you weren’t always on Instagram and Twitter, and the concept of a ‘social media influencer’ didn’t exist at all.

When you and Jeno were younger, you thought the future would resemble Back to the Future. Although there weren’t any hoverboards that actually hovered the ground in 2016, the actual future paralleled the movie in surprising ways with the fact that people were always so distracted with the screens in their hands.

“Don’t you ever just feel…” you start off. Jeno’s attention is on you while he eats.

“Don’t you ever feel that people are always in their own worlds?” You ask. “Always on their phones looking at the latest posts, listening to music, downloading photos? No one ever runs around the neighborhood and draws chalk or play with the neighborhood kids,” you sigh. It was like people preferred to type than to talk.

“Yeah. It wasn’t like that when we were kids,” Jeno says. You eat a couple of spoons of friend rice, the silence between you both evident.

“In a way,” Jeno says, “Things are still the same.”

“How?” You ask.

“Well, people still have the need to be social, whether it’s on social media or in person. And we are still trying to keep up with our friends,” he says. Without words, you know he’s talking about your son and how obsessed he was about getting a phone since his friends started to flash their iPhones and Samsungs.

“I still think life was simpler back in the ‘90’s,” you say stubbornly. “Even though we had to use TV Guide to find out what was on TV, it was still easier. I’m always looking over my shoulder these days,” you confess. “Every single second, so much data is being collected and sold, it makes me worried. On top of all that, social media isn’t good for young kids,” you say, redirecting the conversation back to Hyuckjae. You feel a little guilty seeing Hyuckjae so upset that he doesn’t have a phone, but it was the principle that mattered. You didn’t think phones were good for young kids, to be hooked up to the internet 24/7. Being fifteen and having a phone isn’t much better than being fourteen and having a phone, but you drew the line at high school. You couldn’t protect your son forever, no matter how much you desperately wanted to.

“There’s still something that remains simple, though,” Jeno says. When he gently squeezes your thigh, you think you have an idea.

“This,” he says. He leans over and kisses your lips, cupping your cheek. His lips are soft as they rub rhythmically against your lips. He pulls away, his voice soft. “I love you. We can be in 2092, teleporting to see our great-grandchildren, and I’ll be in love with you,” Jeno says.

You giggle. Nineteen years of marriage, and he still makes you feel like a young bride.

“We can be in 3092 with our brains connected to robots, and I’ll still be in love with you,” you counter, turning this into a competition.

“How about let’s think about right now,” Jeno says. He cups your cheeks in his hands and admires your eyes before he kisses you deeply, as if he isn’t going to kiss you ever again.

The world can change as much as it wants, as long as you have Lee Jeno by your side.

a/n: if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading :) since this is my first slowburn, let me know what you thought in the comments or by sending me an ask! thanks again!

#nct #jeno #lee jeno #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream #jeno fluff #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #jeno smut

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miasmaghoul · 9 months

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since phantom apparently gets on his knees *a lot*, have you thought about him getting on his knees for mountain? how much smaller he'd look? how mount would be SO pleased with it??

perhaps........boots..............

It's not that Aeon is small, exactly.

He's...slight. Lanky like Rain, but narrow like Dew. Doesn't take up much space, visually speaking. Or physically. Not with the way he can bend and contort himself.

He can usually be found in the most awkward positions possible in the common room; scrunched up against the arm of a couch, or curled around himself like a pillbug in one of the armchairs. Not to isolate, it's just how he's comfy.

Mountain doesn't understand it. Has no idea how anyone could be comfortable wrapped up into a ball of their own limbs, not when something as simple as crossing his own legs can make him feel claustrophobic. He does find it endearing in Aeon though, a little quirk that he can bundle up and keep in a water-spotted mason jar in the back of his mind.

Aeon isn't exactly small, but he enjoys making himself look that way.

Between Mountain's legs, he looks the smallest.

It's been a while since Aeon knocked on his door, interrupting his thrilling evening activity of dozing off in front of the fireplace. Most of that time has been spent on his knees, though not in the way Mountain is used to.

The room is quiet, save for the crackle of dying logs and the dull rasp of horsehair on leather. Aeon's hardly spoken the whole time he's been working, now well on his way to getting Mountain's boots to a mirror shine. Mountain's fingers glide through Aeon's soft waves while he watches his shoulder work, blending the shock of brilliant white near his horn into a sea of black for something to do.

Aeon hasn't spoken a word since he cracked open his tin of polish. Hell, he'd barely explained himself in the first place, slotting himself between Mountain's knees and asking where his boots were. Mountain hadn't woken up quite enough yet to do more than gesture towards the closet.

He's awake now, though. Has been since Aeon shoved the awful things onto his feet and laced them tight. Mountain can't stand his uniform boots under normal circumstances; they cut him off from the song of the earth and their slight heels make his ass sore. They're relegated to the depths of the closet between tours, wearing them an inconvenience at best and a nuisance at worst.

And yet he'd let Aeon put them on him. Let the other ghoul brush them, scrub them, apply some sort of cream to them and start the cycle all over again. It's a process Mountain never bothered familiarizing himself with - Rain has always polished his boots for him - but seeing the meticulous way Aeon works is fascinating.

As is the not-small tent in his pants.

It's obvious with the way he's kneeling, legs tucked tight under him with the sole of Mountain's second boot on his thigh, just to the left of that flannel-covered bulge. The first has already been polished glossy, firelight reflected in its gleam. Aeon's posture is tight, strained, but his hands move with the same relaxed precision as they do on his guitar.

"You really like doing this, huh?"

Mountain rubs at the base of one horn and Aeon gasps through his nose. He nods slowly so as not to dislodge the hand on his scalp, but doesn't answer. It's a shame not to hear that shake Mountain knows will be in his voice, but it's graced his ears enough to be easily imagined.

Aeon looks up as he swipes his brush over the toe of the boot, leaves shine in its wake.

Mountain thinks his eyes shine brighter.

They're heavy lidded and blown nearly black, pupils ringed with shimmering violet. His long, dark lashes flutter over flushed cheeks, a light dusting of color painted over the bridge of his nose. Spit-slick lips sit parted, exposing just the tips of his fangs. He looks like he's been ravished despite the fact that Mountain hasn't so much as kissed him yet.

It's lovely.

"Pretty little thing," Mountain coos, dragging gentle knuckles along the hollow of Aeon's cheek. He sighs and leans into it, nuzzles the back of his hand like an affectionate cat. His tail supports that imagery, wrapped around Mountain's forearm and squeezing gently. "You almost done down there, moondrop?"

Aeon nods again, the pink tip of his tongue flicking out between his fangs as he refocuses. It's not that he's rushing the other ghoul to finish, but Mountain wants to hear his voice. Wants to know why, exactly, Aeon shuffled his way here in his pajamas with his leather care caddy and decided to give his boots the royal treatment.

Mountain scratches at his scalp, Aeon shivers, and a sweet little wet spot soaks into his flannels.

Mountain's own cock twitches against his thigh at the sight. He's remained mostly soft for the duration of this, despite the effect it's clearly having on the other ghoul, but the reveal of Aeon's lust-slacked face was enough to have him chubbing up. He rubs at the ridge of the head through his jeans, noting with a smirk the way Aeon's brushing hand stutters.

Mountain massages himself with a lazy hand, rests the other on Aeon's downturned face, caresses his cheek. Drags his thumb along a fang-swollen lip and makes a pleased sound at the way Aeon licks at the tip of it. Mountain stares at the other ghoul's clothed stiffy while he plays, watching it strain against the seam of his pants. He'd like to reach down and give it a good squeeze, but he resists. Wouldn't want to interrupt.

He sticks his thumb into Aeon's mouth instead, and the groan it earns him is well worth the silence he's endured.

The scratch of the brush stops soon enough. Aeon picks up a discarded chamois for one last bit of polish, a few swipes over the calf and along the zipper, finishing his self-imposed task with a pleased sigh. He doesn't move Mountain's foot, leaving it resting heavy on his thigh while he sets his supplies back in their places. Mountain watches him with a smile curling at the corners of his mouth - Aeon sucks at his thumb the whole time, drool slipping out around the invading digit to wet his hand.

"If I take this away," he murmurs, hooking his thumb behind Aeon's lower fangs, "will you tell me what's gotten into you?"

Mountain hooks a finger under his chin and drags Aeon's gaze upwards. He's flushed darker now, sweaty along his hairline, stunning eyes nearly closed. Mountain grips tighter, gives his head a shake, and he swears he can hear Aeon's brain rolling loose in his head.

He gurgles out an uh huh and Mountain chuckles, pulling his hand away. He wipes Aeon's drool off on the other ghoul's shirt and Aeon bites his lip, quivering hands sliding up to rest on Mountain's knees. They'd started shaking the moment he'd finished his work. Mountain watches his throat work as he swallows, still palming his head through rough denim.

At length, sounding drunk on something Mountain is intimately familiar with, Aeon speaks.

"Wanted to...for a while now," he murmurs, idly squeezing at Mountain's legs.

"Wanted to polish my boots?"

Aeon's eyes flick between the place Mountain works his cock and the shine of the leather. He chews his lips and nods again, narrow chest heaving more and more as the minutes pass.

"You don't take very good care of them," he chides, a surprisingly stern tilt to his voice. Mountain raises an eyebrow. "It's a shame," Aeon continues, tilting his head to further admire his work.

"Didn't realize you were such a stickler for uniform maintenance," Mountain teases, tapping Aeon's other leg with his toe. "I hardly wear the things anyway, I don't -"

"You should," Aeon interrupts, eager and a bit breathless. "They suit you." His slim hips move of their own accord, a quick, pointless little hump and Mountain could not possibly mistake for anything else.

"Is that so?"

Aeon nods, lithe fingers drifting from Mountain's knee to ghost over supple leather. He can see the pale reflection of the other ghoul's hand in it - he really did do an incredible job.

"They're hard to play in," Mountain complains, flexing his ankle. It pushes the sole of his boot into Aeon's thigh and the kneeling ghoul sucks air though his teeth. "Not flexible enough."

"Just gotta break 'em in," Aeon offers, and there's that shake Mountain wanted to hear. His smile morphs into something devious when Aeon shifts enough to spread his knees, looking up at him with frank desire. Couldn't be more obvious if he tried.

"And how would you suggest I do that, little star?"

Aeon sighs, grips his ankle, and guides Mountain's foot to rest against his crotch. He hisses, brow furrowing at the first hint of contact, and the ghoul leans forward to rest his cheek on Mountain's knee. He reaches an elegant hand up to fondle Mountain's visible tip, rubs it with two fingers, and with a groan Mountain presses the toe of his boot into Aeon's stiffness.

"Fuck, just like that," Aeon gasps, hips hitching forward immediately. "Don't hold back," he encourages, peering up at Mountain through those thick lashes, "treat me like your kick drum."

Aeon gives him a squeeze, and Mountain does.

#miasma's work #the band ghost fic #oh look another one that got away from me #mountain ghoul #aeon ghoul #mountain/aeon #mountain x aeon #im not rereading this one before posting so if you see mistakes #no you dont

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wanderingelvis · 1 year

Note

Honey, I need a part 2 of that Elvis x Innocent Reader ask. Y'all can't leave me hangin like this lordy

I'm so pleased you liked it! It means so much! 🥰! Anyways, here's part 2!

Here’s a link to Part 1 of Elvis x Innocent!Reader for anyone looking! 🧚

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

word count: 2,119

pairing: Elvis x Innocent F!Reader

Things had gotten better for you recently, since you'd opened up to Elvis about the struggles you'd had in your classes, actually. You hadn't exactly made any friends, even though you were desperate to, but the teasing from the other boys and girls on set, had definitely stopped for the most part. Sure, you would see them looking at you, whispering to each other and giggling, clearly saying something about you but they wouldn't confront you anymore, and you were grateful for that.

You wondered if Elvis had spoken to someone, but you didn't want to ask, in case Elvis hadn't and asking him would put him in a difficult situation where he might feel that he should've.

You actually found the Mafia quite scary, they all wore dark clothing, would brandish guns that they had on themselves, and say words that your Momma had forbid you from ever saying. You wondered if Elvis had ordered them to say something, you knew that if any of the Mafia would ever tell you off, you'd probably run and hide under your bed and never come out again. Whenever you were around Elvis, which was a lot these days, you'd often find yourself in the company of the Mafia. Elvis could tell you were scared of them, you'd go quiet, shuffle as close to Elvis as possible and focus on whatever work you were doing, whatever book you were reading or whatever picture you were drawing - trying to make yourself as invisible as possible.

In all honesty, Elvis liked that you were scared of the Mafia, that it pushed you to be more reliant on him. He knew that none of them would dare look at you in a funny way, let alone hurt you, because they knew he was already obsessed with you, even if that fact would just fly right over your head.

But right now, you had some time off from rehearsals and you'd already run straight to Elvis' dressing room. You would always go to him, or his environment whenever you had any spare time, like he'd told you to do and like you liked to do.

Elvis was already there, looking through mockups of different outfits for his next tour. He wanted more jumpsuits, and that's what had been designed, hundreds of them for him to choose from.

You came in quietly, not wanting to disturb him, but you were greeted with that kind, friendly grin as Elvis asked you how your day was going, listening intently as you babbled away, telling him everything from the songs you were performing in rehearsal to how the door handles on the rehearsal door had been painted to white, but you preferred the old light blue color.

"M'sorry, m'talkin' a lot, Momma says that's a bad habit I got," You said softly, after realising how long you'd spoken for. You were just so happy to have a friend, you felt like no one else wanted to talk to you, so when Elvis let you, you'd talk his ear off. You hadn't realised how long you'd been talking for, but Elvis never seemed disinterested, not once. He would watch you intently, studying your face as you talked, nodding along and throwing his head back with laughter and chuckling loudly when you said something that amused him.

"S'okay honey, it ain't a bad habit, I could listen t'ya ramble on all day besides, sounds like you've had a busy day hm?" Elvis said.

You nodded, grabbing your copy of A Little Princess to read during your downtime. It wasn't the most advanced novel, but you were enjoying it. Your education hadn't been the best as a result of your mother prioritising auditions over school, but you could pick things up quickly when given the help, and you'd started reading more and more.

"Can I read in here for a bit, please?" You asked, never wanting to assume.

"Of course, little un', I'm just going through some outfits for the first-leg of the tour." Elvis said.

You got off the couch, sitting on the soft, plush, fluffy carpet, leaning your book on the low coffee table in front of you. Elvis parted his legs, and as time went on, you'd naturally lean back to sit in between them, the both of you in comfortable silence as you enjoyed your book and Elvis scanned through the outfits, every now and then lowering a piece of paper to show you a design he particularly liked, and to get your opinion on it.

After about twenty minutes, you put your book down, chewing a little on your lip, debating whether or not to ask Elvis about the incident that had happened before.

He'd never actually told you what 'give a head' meant, he'd just bushed over it and you felt a bit nervous to ask again. But you were curious, and he had said he would tell you.

"Um..." You piped up, before questioning if you really should ask Elvis. Elvis moved the piece of paper he was looking at to the side, looking down at you and raising one eyebrow, noticing you were looking a little confused and unsure.

You chewed your fingernails anxiously, your mind going back and forth as to whether or not you should bring this up. As you were thinking through your third reason why you should bring it up, you were taken out of your thoughts by a large hand, pulling your little one away from your mouth. You turned to see that Elvis was leaning down, stopping you from chewing on your nails.

"Now that is a bad habit baby, what's on your mind little girl?" Elvis asked as you gazed up at him with those big, wide eyes that could make him melt.

"It's stupid," You said before he cut you off.

"It's not stupid, Y/N, if it's botherin' ya, which it clearly is, you can tell me, I ain't gonna judge, I ain't gonna laugh, okay pretty girl?" Elvis assured.

"'Kay." You smiled sweetly. "I um, I keep hearing things on set or at the parties and I feel real stupid all the time because I don't know what people are talkin' about, like when Paulie Matthews asked me if I 'give a head' and I don't know what it means and I think it might be about being in charge of somethin' like if I'm the head of somethin' but m'not sure." You said, looking up at Elvis with nothing but innocence.

Elvis paused, he knew he'd have to tell you, but he knew it would be overwhelming for you to take in.

"Well, it's about sex," Elvis said gently, stroking your hair as you rested your back on his leg as you sat cross-legged on the floor. "Do you know much about that, honey?"

You simply shook your head, feeling a little anxious. "No but I wanna know," You paused a little, with Elvis simply watching you, not pressuring you or pushing you. This was a very delicate and sensitive topic, one that Elvis wanted to make sure was done on your terms. He knew that you could be overstimulated easily, so he would make sure he could be there for you, as slowly or as quickly as you needed him to be. "I think." You said.

"What would you like to know, little girl?"

"Um, well, I don't know really where to start really, I know that sounds stupid, but it's just a lot and, and I get confused sometimes with all of it and it's just sorta scary sometimes," You paused, fiddling with your fingers with your cheeks heating up into a pink shade. "M'sorry, that sounds dumb."

"That doesn't sound dumb, Y/N. Sex is a very special thing, so it can be scary to start with, s'only natural, little un'." Elvis assured. A small smile formed on your face as his words brought you comfort.

"How about we start with the basics? Do you know what sex is?" Elvis asked.

You nodded cutely, your head bobbing up and down eagerly, trying to impress Elvis and show him that you weren't as dumb as everyone thought.

"Uh-huh!"

"Wanna explain it to me then baby?" Elvis said cooly.

"Um, okay, it's um, well, um," You said, tripping over your words. "A man puts his thing into a lady and um, well, it makes a baby!" You said, relieved you'd got your words out.

"So you know where babies like you come from?" Elvis said with that shit-eating grin he always had, teasing you and making you giggle, covering your face a little with embarrassment.

"M'not a baby Elvis!" You blushed with a bashful giggle. "And of course I do! I really want to have a baby and be a mother." You said with keen earnest.

You'd always wanted to be a mother and be able to give all the love you had consumed inside of you to another being. Secretly, you wanted Elvis to maybe be the father, but you would never tell him that, even if secretly, he knew.

"Really?" Elvis said.

"Uh-huh! I would really like to be a mother! I think I would really like to have a baby!"

"I think you'd be an amazing mother." Elvis said with complete sincerity. He knew he was right, you were the most loving, caring and sweet little thing in the state, no, in the country.

Your heart was practically bursting, squirming about with delight. Elvis smiled, besotted with the sweet thing sat in front of him. "Really? Do you think so?" You giggled.

"Look at you, getting all flustered." Elvis teased. "But you're still a little one yourself, I ain't putting a baby in that belly just yet." He said, before he realised what he was saying.

Your eyes went as wide as a bush baby at his words. You didn't think he'd ever look at you in that way. Sure, you wouldn't really hesitate to admit you had a little crush on him, but he was the biggest superstar in the whole world who could have any woman he wanted, you never thought he was being anything but caring towards you.

Elvis got up from the couch, heading over to the drinks cart. "Want somethin' to drink, honey?" Elvis asked, pouring himself a scotch.

You asked for a Coca-Cola which he grabbed from the fridge, walking over and handing it to you as you stayed sat on the carpet.

"Doll, are ya sure you wanna keep talkin' about this?" Elvis checked, not wanting to make you uncomfortable - that was the last thing he'd want.

You nodded. You were hesitant of course, and Elvis could see that. He assured you that you could both take the conversation at your own pace, stopping as soon as you said so.

Elvis went on to explain to you what 'give a head' meant, your eyes went wide, and your nose scrunched up cutely, Elvis laughed a little at your reactions, but never patronised you. You asked endless questions, and Elvis answered every single one.

You felt fortunate to be around Elvis, he let you take everything at your own pace, which you loved as you always felt like you were a little slower to pick things up and felt a little behind everyone else. Growing up, your mother would berate you for not learning your audition lines fast enough, but despite always trying your very best, you could never quite catch up.

Elvis treated you differently though, he never rushed you, not once. When you didn't understand something, you could lean up on your tippy toes and whisper it into his ear and he would gently explain what was going on, guiding you and helping you, no matter how big or small.

"Now, I think that's enough for one day." Elvis said, placing a light kiss atop of your head. "C'mere, little un'," Elvis softly demanded, gesturing for you to join him on the couch. He opened his arms for you crawl into, cuddling you close.

He was proud of you, it was an intense conversation but you handled it well. "How are you feelin' pretty girl?"

You smiled up at him, telling him that you were overwhelmed but happy, which he understood. "How's about you tell me about your new book, little lady?" Elvis asked.

You nodded eagerly, beginning to ramble on about everything you loved about the book, what you think will happen and all the things you thought Elvis would love about it too.

Elvis watched, thinking about how cute you looked. He looked at today as a breakthrough in your relationship, he knew it wouldn't be long before he took the next step with you.

Naturally, you were completely oblivious to what he was planning, but you trusted Elvis, you knew he'd always protect you. You were his.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #yandere elvis #elvis aaron presley #elvis the king #elvis x you

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aemoonie · 1 year

Text

𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗒 - 𝗄𝗂𝗆 𝖽𝗈𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 ✰

synopsis: as doyoung spotted a tiny birthmark on the back of your arm that seemed to be identical to his own, he panicked. of course it was you of all people – the person that he learned to loathe around campus. always a step ahead of him, always the better grades, and always the prettier smile. how could he not have noticed before?

a/n: lowercase intended. soulmate/college!au, fem!reader. mlist g: angst/fluff wc: 5,1k cw: mentions of food and alcohol, anxiety.

doyoung felt his eyes prickle with dryness as he tried to blink for the first time in a few moments. it seemed impossible for him to pry his gaze off the tiny mark right above your elbow. as if he feared it disappearing in the same way it seemingly had materialized out of nowhere today. or did it? he had known you for a while now and he never noticed it before? it was a dark maroon color, almost shaped like a crescent, laughing at him from across the room. it sent shivers down his spine. it was identical to his own.

panic tightened his chest as he blindly stumbled in the aisle behind him, a group of students passing him as they gave him curious looks. he felt as if his world was turning upside down. this moment was supposed to be something good, something pure, something full of love and light. at least that was what he had been told from the moment he was born. but as he peeked through the bookshelves at you, still sitting at one of the desks in the study hall, all he could feel was his dry throat and flat breathing. you of all people really had turned out to be the one.

it wasn’t that you were inherently a bad person – that was if you were to ask anyone but doyoung. you were smart, a diligent student, you worked hard and tried even harder to be kind to the people you met throughout your life. but for doyoung, you were something similar to the bane of his existence. ever since he started college, you’ve always been better than him. he could take whatever class he wanted, if you were enrolled as well, he could bid his goodbyes to the hundred percent for his grades. because you were always just a bit better than him, you always wrote just a tiny bit more, you always had the best arguments against his and it was driving him mad at best.

even his friends liked to tease and joke about his supposed “one-sided” rivalry between you two. because, to be completely honest, doyoung had only spoken to you not more than two or three times outside of class. though he had never exactly been mad about this, quite the opposite. he had always been more than happy for you two to be parting your ways wordlessly after you had completely humiliated him during class discussion. you even had him question why he was still studying law at the best of times. but doyoung was just as much of a diligent student as you were. you were just a little bit better.

and so, the last thing he expected to see on this thursday afternoon, on his way to study for the upcoming exam (the one you were probably also studying for in this exact moment), was his birthmark on your bare arm, while you were unconscious of anything out of the ordinary happening. at this point, he felt this was all a cruel joke from the universe, putting him with the person he learned to hate before he even had a chance to learn to love. how would he ever manage to get you on his good side, if all you knew of him was spiteful looks and petty remarks?

his thoughts were harshly interrupted as he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, giving him a tight squeeze.

“what’s gotten into you? you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” johnny joked, one of the few people doyoung still knew from high school. he was also one of the people that could never leave him in peace with his teasing. still, doyoung managed to rip his eyes off your figure, giving johnny a bewildered look. maybe he could play this off. or maybe johnny already saw him standing there between the biology encyclopaedias, creeping on you like some sort of stalker.

“i just talked to mr. choi,” he began, ignoring the burning on his cheeks to get through his lie, “and we’re fucked. the exam is gonna be fifty pages long, at least”

johnny let out a dry chuckle and motioned his head to get doyoung to walk towards the exit with him, his arm still tightly wrapped around the younger’s shoulder. who couldn’t really tell if this unamused laughter meant johnny had not a single care in the world for exams, or that he didn’t believe his lie at all. so, he let himself be pulled out of the library, risking a last short glance over his free shoulder to see you still sitting in your seat, hunched over your books, with the same mark on your elbow. nothing much had changed for you this afternoon, you were still focused on being the good student you always had been.

“you need to go out into the sun more, meet some people,” johnny said, munching away on his lunch. after he had dragged doyoung out of the library, he drove the two of them to the nearest restaurant, whining for something better to eat than whatever the university’s cafeteria had to offer.

“i meet plenty of people,” doyoung grumbled as he shifted in his seat. he poked his fries with the one he held in his hand, though if he was honest, he had lost all appetite for the day.

“the people in your classes don’t count. you probably don’t even talk to them unless it’s to say they suck” the older continued. he had a teasing smile on his face, taking a big bite out of his burger. doyoung scoffed at this, sending a salty glare to his friend.

“so who do i always go out with on the weekends?” he shot back, but johnny was quick to shut him down just as easily.

“my friends. that i made,” his smile grew. “by myself.”

doyoung could only reciprocate an emotionless smile at this, it was pointless to keep arguing against him because he knew johnny was right. this whole semester he had been so focused on being the best in his year (to be better than you) that he completely neglected his social life. if it weren’t for johnny, he probably would’ve never left his dorm on his own. let alone make any friends.

“and besides,” johnny spoke up again, “i don’t think there is anybody else in this world that would get so invested like this made-up rivalry of yours.”

the week of doyoung’s discovery had been flying by for you, barely having enough time to catch up with classes while preparing for the upcoming exams. sometimes you really loathed being a law student, though it sort of was the only thing you knew to be. you had spent nearly every minute of your spare time in the library, revising as many cases as possible and scattering through book after book until you felt your eyes burn and your blood no longer rushing through your legs.

the only strange thing you found was doyoung, the boy you had nearly every class with and who despised you for reasons beyond your best guesses, suddenly disappearing over the weekend. he had been at the library almost as much as you, sometimes you felt as if he was rushing to be the first to arrive. he definitely had the unfortunate habit of hogging all the books you also needed, so needless to say, you weren’t exactly mad when he was nowhere to be found after thursday afternoon.

but there was a curious feeling in the depths of your stomach when he didn’t show for the friday class he had with you. it was the first time you had ever noticed him being absent in a class ever, and it definitely got noticed by the other students as well. some suggested he got finally sick of the endless class discussions, others mentioned rumours of him secretly going crazy, locked away in his dorm room.

you, however, couldn’t help but feel the curious feeling grow into concern when he also didn’t show up to your monday class in civil law. it was hard to tell which confused you more; his sudden absence or your sudden interest in his whereabouts. it wasn’t that he was overly fond of you, to be fair. his attitude towards you made it incredibly clear that he did not like you one bit. and yet, you couldn’t shake your thoughts of him. he was a model student, he was surely smarter than you, and doing brilliantly at college, so why would he suddenly miss classes so late before the final exams?

you barely noticed how harshly you had been biting your bottom lip until your friend shook you out of your thoughts with a nudge. “your lips are bleeding, y/n” she said, her brows furrowed though she tries to force a sympathetic smile on her face.

“i’m sure everyone’s just exaggerating. mr. choi would never make us do fifty pages of cases, he’s way too nice for that,” she continued, spinning her pen between her fingers. if it wasn’t for that nervous habit of hers, you almost would’ve fallen for her encouraging words, but both of you knew better. you could never trust anybody when it came to studying law. it truly brought out the worst in people.

her defeated sigh told you that she noticed the unconvinced grimace on your face, yet she kept her eyes wandering through the room, as if to look for something else to talk about. you had a dim sense of foreboding of which topic she was going to choose next, and you squeezed your eyes shut for a split second as you heard her pronounce his name. it almost sent shivers down your spine, the way you didn’t even dare to say his name out loud. you really had no reason as to why his name suddenly felt so precious to form out loud, it was as if you were scared of summoning him suddenly, or rather, of him never returning again. as if his name was a curse and you were desperate for a last little glimpse of him. of the boy who never spared you more than a snide glance when he passed you in the hallways? of the boy who now seemed more like a dream to you than a real person.

“hello?” you felt your friend kicking your shin under the table slightly. not enough to hurt, but not exactly gentle either. “earth to y/n?”

with a short blink, you trained your eyes back on your friend’s face. she looked displeased, her thoroughly kempt brows furrowing at the sight of your absent-minded stare. “what if he really did… you know?” she said then, as if expecting you to have listened to what she said at all.

“did what?” you blurted out, confusion evident as you were the one furrowing your brows now. “who?”

“you know who! gosh, have i been talking to a wall this entire time?”

she threw the pen that was still trained in her hand over to your side of the table, her motions again just gentle enough that it landed safely between your crossed arms. blush burned deep under your skin now, if she only knew what was going through your mind while she was talking him. what thoughts clouded your mind.

“do i need to call someone professional for you too?” her voice lowered playfully as she continued to tease you, “maybe we need to give the psychology department another visit?”

you tossed the pen back at her, barely missing her chin as she leaned back and giggled. as you were fighting a smile, you still felt bashful, your cheeks were surely still tainted red judging by the way they felt so hot to the touch. but your friend was far from giving up on the topic as she explained that doyoung’s disappearance had been the hottest talk on the campus that week.

“i really don’t know what you want me to say,” you finally said, trying to stay truthful. because if you were being honest, you didn’t know doyoung at all. it felt wrong to admit this, but it was reality. you barely exchanged more than a few words with him, you realized. you wouldn’t even know what to talk about if he sat right next to you in this moment. just picturing it had you drifting off in thoughts again, but your friend quickly caught on this time and continued talking.

“aren’t you at least a tiny bit interested in all of this? remember how you said he was kind of cute at the beginning of the semester?” your cheeks burned even redder at this. you surely did forget that you had mentioned that, as you frantically tried to recall this supposed conversation.

“i thought he was like your archenemy or something,” she added, raising her brows at your fidgeting figure. you wanted to protest as your eyes caught something moving, or rather, someone appearing behind the big shelves shielding your table from the entrance view and making their way towards you. as soon as you took in the figure you felt that curious pit in your stomach again, and soon enough, your eyes locked with doyoung’s. confused by your sudden silence, your friend turned to follow your surprised gaze, not failing to shoot you a last expressive look as doyoung finally reached and stopped at your table, shifting nervously as his shoulders were only turned to you, ignoring your friend completely.

“are you free tomorrow after mr. choi’s class?”, doyoung breathed, he seemed as if he was already exasperated by it all, you couldn’t really tell if this conversation was already too much for his thin patience. he had dark rims under his eyes and a frantic look in them, his demeanour was weirdly nothing like you had memorized. and for a moment you wondered if you had ever remembered him looking this pretty, the way he stood there right this moment, but as he raised his brows expectant of an answer, you cleared your throat and tore your eyes from his frame.

“i – sure, i am,” you finally rushed to say, sneaking a worried look towards your friend, who was eyeing doyoung as if she had never seen him before. “i’d be here anyways, if you –“

“no, i really need to talk to you in private,” he interrupted, and both you and your friend couldn’t help but shoot each other a surprised look. and doyoung surely noticed as he shifted on his heels, cautiously darting his eyes back and forth between you two until he settled on your puzzled expression again. “if you don’t mind of course,” he added quickly and bit his lips before his voice fizzled out in an almost raspy whisper, “it’s just really important.”

it was as if all your nerves were tugging at you at once when doyoung didn’t even bother to show up for class. you kept staring at the empty seat two rows in front of you, and you found yourself missing the moments when you could still stare daggers into the back of his head when he was challenging you in class discussions again.

you mentally cursed him for making you feel so on edge, when you repeatedly had to remind yourself that you didn’t even know him at all. if someone had asked you two weeks ago if you felt anything for the boy, you would only have been able to answer with a nauseating feeling of annoyance. but ever since the day he so suddenly disappeared, you caught yourself staring at random doors, wondering when they’d magically open and have him walk in as casually as ever, seemingly as if he never vanished into thin air in the first place.

the professor’s voice was ringing through your ears as you watched your hands scribble on the paper. you hadn’t managed to write down a single coherent word, instead you drew the same three question marks again, and again, and again. it was not until the people around you started gathering their things and stood up that you noticed that class had ended. it was finally time for your dreaded meeting with doyoung.

you slowly made your way through the halls, merging yourself with the steady stream of students going back and forth between their classes. he had wanted to meet you in front of the library, but insisted on everything being a private matter. your hands felt clammy as you wiped them against your sleeves, but even the most oblivious person could see that you were more on edge than as if you were going to take the dreaded final exam right then and there.

and you tried to ignore the little warm feeling blooming in your stomach as you spotted his figure indeed waiting in front of the library’s stairs, impatiently pacing back and forth, eyeing almost every student that passed him. as if he was looking for someone in particular, and that someone was you. you again tried ignoring the way his eyes lit up when they met your own, and the way his small smile sent a rush of warmth into your cheeks. since when had you been acting like this around him? you had been sure the guy had hated you not too many moons ago and now here you were, almost melting on the spot when all he did was greet you.

“i’m sorry if i sounded so,” he paused, raised his hands as if he was reaching out, but then lowered them again as he continued, “- so cryptic. i hope i didn’t scare you or anything.”

his response almost had you reconsider if you were maybe dreaming this whole encounter, as the kim doyoung was audibly apologizing to you. not only was he apologizing to you, but he looked so sincere about it as well. as if he had beaten himself up about it, would have changed his wording in the past if he could, but he didn’t and here you were, gawking at him as if he said the strangest thing you had ever heard.

“you – you’re sorry?” you heard yourself say, your voice sounded as much in disbelief as he had expected you to be. instead of justifying anything, he silently nodded ahead, motioning you to walk along with him. it was silent between the two of you for a couple moments, up until you left the dense grouping of university building behind you and entered the park area of the campus.

spring was slowly making itself known here, as you noticed the trees growing greener than the last time you had seen them. some even had a few blossoms here and there, and it made you wonder how long it would take until the whole ground would be covered in petals again.

“i should’ve been honest with you,” doyoung suddenly said, keeping his eyes trained on the ground before him, watching his feet as they took step after step, ignoring your confused glances. he surely didn’t waste time when it came to matters of the heart, you thought, he just barged right in. or maybe he didn’t know how to sugar coat. not that he ever did in the past.

“but to be honest, i myself didn’t know until last week,” he continued. “last thursday, i just came to the library to study like always. but then something felt strange,” his eyes shifted to you for a split second, but he was desperate to escape your boring gaze as quickly as he could.

“and when i came to the study hall, i saw you sitting there, but –“ he took in a shaky breath, “i saw your mark for the first time.”

your brows furrowed in confusion as you finally trained your eyes on the ground as well, much to his relief. initially, you were unaware of what mark he was even talking about, almost completely forgotten about the birthmark you had on your left elbow. since it was out of your line of sight, you must’ve not had a proper look at it for months.

“do you know why some people have those marks?” he then asked, cautiously mustering your profile as you still had your thoughts running away from you. your mind was starting to become an intangible web of dots and points in time, eagerly trying to connect as to what all this had to do with his disappearance over the weekend. from this point on, doyoung knew you were smart enough to figure all of it out by yourself, but he wanted to have this conversation, or so he reassured himself. he needed to hear that you understood. he needed to know your reaction.

“i do,” you said, sounding careful, almost frightened. at this point, he didn’t know what feeling was tightening his throat more; the relief of not having to explain it all to you, or the hanging dread of one of you having to say it out loud regardless, and whatever may come after. for you, the puzzle was still coming together. this seemed to be why he suddenly vanished from the face of the earth, he was avoiding you. and why you suddenly felt so different towards him, and even still felt it now. you couldn’t spare him one glance without noticing how the light danced on his skin from between the trees, or how his voice never sounded this soft and melodic before, and how he seemed to have gotten even prettier since he last talked to you, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you.

what doyoung had indicated was nothing that happened all to seldom, you had heard plenty of stories of people meeting their soulmates throughout your life, you just never thought you could have been part of that. let alone be an actual soulmate of someone. of doyoung, of all people. your simple words seemed to entail so many things none of you dared to say out loud, and whatever was to be said next could only feel bittersweet on both of your tongues, none of you were ready to face what was inevitable.

it was hard to tell for you to pinpoint the moment doyoung had stopped walking, slowly turned towards you, and finally took in your features. the way his eyes danced on your skin made you feel almost shy, it was as if all previous spite had left him and was replaced it with only warmth. the universe had really gifted you something inexplicable in this moment, as you watched him glance to his feet again, seemingly preparing himself for what he wanted to say next.

“so you also know what it means when i show you,” he lifted his arm slowly, pulling the sleeve of his sweater up as it exposed more and more skin to the march sun. “that mine looks exactly like yours.”

as his sleeve finally revealed the dark spot just above his elbow, you couldn’t help but take in a sharp breath. your eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the sunbeams dancing around you two, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t staring right back on your own birthmark, on doyoung’s skin, as he carefully watched your expression. it felt as if the sight of it finally put the final piece of the puzzle where it belonged, it felt as if the spring sun herself settled in your chest as you slowly raised your hand to let your fingertips brush over his skin. in the beaming sun you could even see goosebumps forming just where your touch had lingered only seconds prior.

none of you dared to let out the breaths each of you were holding, and it suddenly dawned you what you were dealing with. everything he had told you meant that he was the one the universe had chosen for you. he was the one fate had decided to be with you, and to not be able to be without you.

“but why did i never feel anything before?” you said, and if he hadn’t been standing so close, the wind could’ve whisked your words away. but he gave you a gentle smile, almost an apologetic one, as he slightly shrugged his shoulders. “for some reason we had to see it for ourselves.”

and you finally wondered what he had been doing for the past few days when he was avoiding you, you wondered if he felt as scared of this as you were starting to feel, a cold shiver spreading through your veins as you eye his features for the hundredth time this hour. and he seemed to recognize the panic in your eyes, as he took both of your hands in his, his warmth immediately spreading over your fingertips.

it was a strange feeling, you thought, standing here with doyoung holding your hands in his, pulling at them to get you closer, probably as unable to pry himself away as you were in this moment. because as much as you wanted to let the panic take over your hazy thoughts, as much did you only have his warmth in mind, his hands in yours, and his eyes mirroring your own curious expression.

“how do you do that?” you finally said, and your eyes fell to your held hands, maybe searching if you could see the kind of spell he was putting on you. but his hands were just as human as they were before, and the way his brows were furrowed when you looked back up told you that he was equally as lost for words. perhaps the warmth you felt wasn’t one-sided after all. maybe he felt as warm as you, judging from it radiating off him as if he was the sun himself.

“i don’t know” he replied, sounding breathless. his cheeks looked as rosy as yours, and it felt like an eternity of just standing there, letting the moment have it’s space, none of you ready to speak out the lingering questions that were eating away in each of your minds. the one thing that had your thoughts spinning still, was the absurdity of it all. you had heard of soulmates before, you had heard stories of how magical it was, though in the same breath you had been told how rare it was, over and over again. and because of this rarity, you never thought you would experience having a soulmate yourself.

the birthmark you had never was something that kept you up at night, it felt like a part of you, something that just happened to be on your body. but now you could feel it tingling the longer you looked at doyoung and it felt strangely exposing to be looked at in the same way from him. after moments of stillness, you finally broke the intense eye-contact, lowered your intertwined hands and trained your gaze on the pebble stone beneath your shoes. but doyoung could intervene before you had a chance to pronounce your worries.

“i did a lot of research about this while i was gone, you know,” he began, and he sounded hurried now, as if your sudden change in demeanour had caused him to panic. “and this doesn’t happen, like ever. I bet your parents also told you about it growing up, but i’m telling you, it doesn’t happen as often as they made us believe. it only happens every few years,” he continued. his eyes widened as he went on, and he even stepped closer, making you take half a step back in order to not bump into him. you let out a shaky breath when your shoulders touched, but through the whole ordeal he didn’t once let go of your intertwined hands between you.

“so what are you saying?”, you replied, it was your turn to sound breathless. you were lying if you didn’t admit that this all scared you to death. the guy who would have had you rather gone in order to be the best in class was now pouring his heart out in front of you, claiming that you two were soulmates. if you had told this to any bystander right now, they’d laugh in your face.

“i’m saying maybe give it a shot,” doyoung said with a mellow voice, he seemed almost timid now, with a sentimental smile playing on his lips and his shoulders slightly raising in a shrug. the soft look in his eyes threw you completely off your previous track of thoughts, and brought back the warmth in your chest. the effect he had on you so suddenly felt ridiculous, and it felt completely foreign and familiar at the same time.

it was a strange thing overall, you thought. this whole ordeal made your head spin, but you had a hard time denying him when he was standing so close to you. additionally, you still had a suspicion that a spell was involved somehow, since there was no way that you’d feel like this just because. perhaps this strange feeling was proving his point? maybe everything he said was true, you definitely saw his birthmark, and you knew something bigger was pulling at your heartstrings at this moment.

doyoung was still eagerly scanning your face, awaiting an answer from you. he felt like an idiot if he was honest, because he had planned to be way slower with his approach, way more gentle. but as soon as he saw your uncertainty he had the need to pull you back to him, not only physically, but now he wanted to persuade your mind as well. because he could tell the gears were turning in overdrive behind your eyes, and your furrowed brows gave away how worried you were. he knew this was a scary thing to be a part of, and he also knew that he had no right to pressure you into anything either. he was the one who almost had a panic attack and ran away for days to come to terms with this, after all. he was the bigger coward between you two, and he had always known that.

“i understand if you need some time to … process this all”, he said carefully, meeting your eyes as you finally looked back up from the ground. “this is a lot to take in, isn’t it?” he flashed that small smile again from earlier, and you could feel the blood rushing into your cheeks. no matter how many times you had considered all options and played the events over and over again, the feeling in your stomach made your preferences very clear. you couldn’t deny that you felt yourself losing to the pull he had on you, even after this short amount of time.

“i think it’s about time we stop arguing over everything” you said finally, shooting a familiar small smile towards his questioning gaze, swallowed the last of your pride, and pulled him towards you, finally crashing your lips onto his own.

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