#and at this point. they’re making it impossible to do anything right. probably hoping I’ll quit

[canichangemyblogname]

AITAH—

I (28 m) programmed an event into my boss’ (51 f) calendar with the exact location: street number, town, zip— everything. She went to the place down the street, ten street numbers off. “Based on the address, I thought we were having it here.” “Ugh—no; they’re closed at this hour. The event down the street.” “Okay, well, you need to put that information in my calendar.” “Sorry, I could’ve sworn we put the address in—” “No. I need the name of the place and the context, like details on parking and entrances and hours of operation.” “Oh, okay. Sorry.”

[0cta9on]

Unlikely Duet - 9

Length: 8k+ words

Genre: Fluff (does this count as fluff anymore? lol :>)

NJZ Minji x Male Reader (OC)

【��】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Yuno’s POV

“W-what… What the hell are you two doing?!”

Sunghoon stands there, a fire in his eyes, searing right through me and Minji. My skin grows cold. I don’t move. Don’t breathe. Hell, I can barely think—just moments ago, I was basking in the warmth of Minji’s lips, and now I feel like I’m drowning in an ocean of dread. 

Minji breaks the silence first.

“Sunghoon, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts her. “Don’t even think about trying to talk your way out of this one, I saw what you two were doing. Minji, what the hell are you thinking?!” He glares at me with the same look of disdain I’ve been receiving all night. I’m sick of it. But I can’t do anything about it. Not with Minji here. Not after what I promised her.

“I-I was… I just…” Minji squeezes her eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Look, it doesn’t matter what we were doing, it’s none of your business.”

“Actually, it is my business. Your parents told me to look out for you tonight and make sure that he doesn’t cause any trouble,” he retorts, pacing back and forth. Even after he calls me out, he doesn’t dare spare me a single glance—like I’m something filthy, not worth being in his vision.

“He didn’t!” Minji argues, her breath growing heavier. “I’m the one that kissed him, alright?! It was me! It’s all my fault! So don’t point your dirty fingers at him!”

Sunghoon scoffs, like we’re some unfathomable impossibility. “How naive can you be?! Do you really think someone like him is right for you?! You’re making a mistake, Minji.”

“The only mistake I made was thinking you could grow into a decent person!” 

The last of her words echoes into the night air. Sunghoon’s expression drops, just a smidge, but I can see it. She cut deep. Deeper than I thought she was capable of. Impressive. And a little terrifying.

Shards of Sunghoon’s broken glass crunch under his feet as he takes a tentative step back. The fire in his eyes is gone, replaced by something I can’t quite understand. They’re emptier, maybe even sorrowful.

“I’m sure your parents will love to hear about this,” he mutters before walking back inside.

Minji and I freeze like statues, lost in thought. My gaze stays fixed to the ground, unable to meet her eye. What the hell can I say anyways? I can barely process my own feelings as it is, and now, I’m left dealing with a whirlwind in my head. How am I supposed to face her? I don’t know what will happen now. Everything happened so quickly. What the fuck do I do?

“U-um…” Minji breathes, all the heat gone from her voice. “You should probably go.”

My eyes shoot up towards her. “What about you?”

“I-I’ll be fine. I think.” She takes off my sweater from around her shoulders and hands it back to me. “H-here. You’re probably cold.”

I am cold. Freezing. But she’s the only one that can warm me up. Not some sweater. Her. “Minji…”

She pushes the sweater into my hands, her touch lingering against my skin for a bittersweet moment. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay,” she says, more to herself than me.

Before I can utter another word, she walks back inside, sparing me one more glance before she disappears behind the doors. There’s an uncertainty within them. She sounded so confident before, but I can see it in her eyes that it’s all just a front. God, I hope she’ll be okay.

I sneak out of the building, carefully avoiding everyone from the banquet, and leaving this place of opulence behind. I never should have come. I never should have kissed her. Minji took the fall for me and I’ll regret it every day. What was I even thinking? No matter what, something always goes wrong. I should’ve listened to myself.

I plop down onto the curb and send a text to my dad to come pick me up. The wind howls around me, laughing at my predicament, cruel and mocking. The moon watches from above, a silent witness to everything that just happened tonight. I wish it would tell me what to do. Whatever higher being that exists up there, I wish it would just give me a straight fucking answer—in fact, I wish it would just spare me some mercy and end it already. Quit giving me hope just to throw it down the drain. Fuck.

It’s so goddamn cold.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

The city passes by in soft blurs through the car window, streetlights smearing golden hues across the glass. Stars dot the night sky with their shimmering light, and a full moon trails by our car like a guardian of safe nightly travels. As beautiful as it is, my gaze is fixed on the window, not to enjoy the view, but simply to survive. One wrong look at my parents could be the final crack that breaks the dam.

Tense silence fills the car. Only the hum of the engine and the occasional bump in the road remind me that this is all real. My parents’ silhouettes loom in front of me, and I don’t dare look or think or even breathe in their general direction. I would be lying if I said I wish they didn’t just yell at me and get it over with. The suspense of waiting is always worse than the actual punishment.

The familiar layout of our neighborhood enters my vision and it doesn’t take long until we’re rolling into our driveway. The car comes to a complete stop, the engine deafens, but none of us move. I clench my teeth to slow my breathing, afraid that one small peep will set them off, but I fear the uneven pounding of my heart can be heard from the front seat.

Mother leaves the car first. I start to unbuckle my seatbelt, but a single, frigid word from my father stops me in my tracks.

“Stop.”

I gulp, sitting upright in my seat. Despite my mother’s absence, the space inside the car feels impossibly smaller.

“Y-yes, father?” I say.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We trusted you to do the right thing. I let you invite that boy because I thought he was actually taking steps to better himself, but instead, you…” He trails off into a frustrated exhale. My mother’s anger, for all its fire, is at the very least predictable—bearable. But my father is something else entirely. Colder. Sharper. The quiet fury of a man who knows how to get people to do what he wants without ever raising his voice.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Minji?” he asks, tone low and cold.

I rack my mind for an answer, debating on defending Yuno or giving him a response that will satisfy him. If they just give Yuno a chance to show them who really is, that he’s not at all what he appears to be on the surface, then they’ll know that he isn’t as bad as they think he is. But they won’t listen. They never do. Not when it matters.

“I… I apologize, father. What I did was a… mistake,” I utter. Another lie leaves a bitter taste on my tongue.

“A mistake,” he repeats, sending a chill down my spine. “What have I told you before about mistakes?”

“Th-that we…” It’s getting harder and harder to breathe properly. “That we learn from them.”

“I will make sure you learn from this then. Give me your phone.” He glares at me through the rear view mirror while he reaches his hand back towards me. A sense of panic rallies itself within my chest.

“W-wait, I need my phone,” I beg, my voice faltering. “I-I need it to coordinate with the other student council members for prom prep, a-and I—”

“You should’ve thought of that before completely taking advantage of my trust,” he shoots back. “Minji. Give it. Now.”

With a shaky hand, I retrieve my phone from my purse. My fingers curl around it like it’s the last piece of control I have left. Truthfully, prom preparations are the last thing on my mind at the moment. My entire world is contained in this little box. My friends. My life. Yuno. I need to make sure that he’s okay. After everything that just happened, I just need to talk to him. To talk about everything. To talk about us.

“Minji,” my father all but barks at me. “Phone. Now.” 

Maybe one day, I’ll stop listening. Maybe one day, I’ll speak up. But the words never come. I relinquish my phone, my lifeline to the outside world, into his palm. I can only watch helplessly as it disappears into his coat pocket.

“I’m only going to say this once,” he continues. “You are not to see that boy ever again. If you have a project with him, switch partners. If he walks the same direction as you, you go the other way. Don’t even think about going behind our backs this time because we will know. Do you understand?”

A shaky breath releases itself from my lungs as I fight back a tear. I want to scream, I want to fight back, tell him that he’s being unreasonable and controlling. But I can’t. I can barely breathe as it is.

“Y-yes, father. I understand,” I answer.

“Good,” he speaks. “Now go to your room. It’s late.”

I don’t say another word as I get out of the car and head inside. There’s no point. He won’t listen. He won’t change. Neither of them will. The house feels cold and soulless as I shut the front door behind me. The living room is furnished, the fridge full of food, the walls decorated in old family photos, but there’s no love in these four walls and there hasn’t been for a long time. This place is nothing more than a glorified prison.

Even my room doesn’t feel like mine anymore—just another cage for me to sit in. I collapse onto my bed, not bothering to change or get ready to sleep. I just stare at the ceiling fan, watching the blades go around in a circle.

All that energy, just to stay in the same place and serve one purpose. Forever.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I’m fucking exhausted. My mind wouldn’t let me sleep—just constantly looping that same scene over and over. I could have let Sunghoon have it. I could have explained to Minji’s parents that she did nothing wrong. I could have just stayed. Let them hate me. Blame me. I wouldn’t have cared.

But instead, I just… left. And now I don’t know what happened to Minji or why she isn’t texting me back.

My dad clears his throat. “Um, aren’t you gonna eat? You’ve barely taken a bite out of your pancakes.”

I glance up at the table, my breakfast practically untouched. “I’m… not hungry,” I mutter. I’m starving.

“Ah, okay…” he nods. “Is this… Is this about last night?”

I don’t answer. What’s the point? He can’t fix it. I can’t fix it. Nothing will change the fact that I didn’t do anything. Minji went through all that trouble to defend me and I didn’t do anything.

My dad sighs. “Look, um… I can tell something happened, but I don’t want to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to. Just know that I’m here for you whenever you’re ready, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay,” I breathe. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I snatch it out like a reflex—just another message from Yujin. I don’t bother reading it this time. I just shove it into my bag, letting it sink to the bottom where I can forget about the damn thing. “I should get going.”

“Then, why don’t I, uh, put your pancakes in some tupperware and you can have them later if you’re hungry?” my dad suggests with a small grin. Truthfully, I don’t know if I’ll have the appetite later. Or at all. But he’s trying, despite everything.

“Yeah. Go ahead,” I answer before heading to the front door. He nods from his seat, but I don’t look back.

The sun’s out. Not a cloud in the sky. Birds overhead. People jogging, laughing, talking to neighbors. It’s a perfect day.

And I hate it.

Every step is heavier than the last, like the weight of my emotions are dragging me down into the dirt. I try to keep my head down, shove my hands in my pockets, pretend that everything is okay, but I can’t quite shake the constant throbbing in my temples. The pit of dread in my stomach keeps growing bigger and bigger, threatening to swallow me whole if I let it. And maybe I’ll just let it. But not before talking to Minji.

I trudge through Evergreen’s hallways straight to my locker. Winter and Yujin are waiting there, worry painted on their faces.

“Yuno!” Yujin exclaims as he sees me. “Are you alright? We waited by the convenience store, but you never showed up.”

“A-and you didn’t answer any of our t-texts or calls,” Winter adds.

“I’m fine,” I sigh, pushing past them to my locker. For a second, I want to tell them everything. The banquet. The argument. The kiss. God, the kiss. But the words don’t come. They never do.

“Are you sure?” Yujin asks. “You look… not great.”

“It’s nothing. Just…” I can barely finish my thought as a crowd forms at the end of the hallway. The sound of chatter grows louder, seemingly centering around one person. I can just barely make out the top of their head.

“W-what’s happening?” Winter asks, stepping behind me.

“No clue.” I could care less if it’s some celebrity or the president or whoever the fuck. As far as I’m concerned, this day has already gone to shit. The last thing I need are any surprises. I shut my locker and turn to head to class, but someone running towards the crowd bumps against my shoulder. “Watch it, you fucking—”

The crowd parts just enough. And there he is. Sunghoon. Grinning. Laughing. Like none of it ever happened. He notices me watching. He fucking smirks.

My blood starts to boil. I don’t care why he’s here or why he has on the Evergreen uniform, all I know is that I need to hurt him. I stomp towards him, my breath growing heavier and my fists clenched, ready to give that son of a bitch what I should’ve given him last night. I barely register the sound of Yujin and Winter calling out to me. He needs to pay for what he did. I need to hurt him. I need to—

“Wait.”

A hand grabs at my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

“What the fuck do you—” I look back and see Danielle’s serious expression glaring back at me.

“Come with me. Now.” Before I can answer, she pulls me down the hallway and away from Sunghoon. Yujin and Winter look back at me, confused, right before I turn the corner.

I groan in anger. “What are you doing?! I was right about to—”

“Shut up,” she commands. “Minji told me everything. If I let you do what you were about to do, you would have regretted it.”

“M-Minji?” All the anger leaves my system at the mention of her name. I stop resisting as she pulls me along, the echoing of voices growing fainter behind us. “Is she… Is she okay?” 

We stop in front of a supply closet. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?” she says, opening the door to the closet. In between the dusty shelves lined with cleaning supplies is Minji. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“You only have a couple minutes before class starts. Make it quick,” Danielle explains before pushing me in and shutting the door, leaving the two of us in this cramped space.

We can barely meet each other’s eyes. My skin suddenly feels very warm. Not uncomfortably so, just… warm. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I spent all night and all morning wanting to do nothing more than talk to Minji, and yet, I have no idea where to start. So, I start with what anyone would start with.

“H-hi.”

“Hi,” Minji utters, her voice small yet steady.

“Um…” I gulp, trying to calm my nerves. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“I, uh, I texted you. You never, y’know…”

“Right.” She lets out a long sigh. “My parents took my phone away.”

“Oh.” At least she wasn’t ignoring me on purpose this time. “I’m sorry.”

She offers me a small yet reassuring smile. “It’s okay, I’ll just—”

“I’m sorry for leaving you,” I blurt out. “Last night. I, uh… I should’ve stayed. I should’ve done something. Anything. You stood up for me, and I…”

Minji grabs my hand, cradling it gently in her palm. The words get caught in my throat and my heart stops for a moment, her touch like electricity against my skin. “Don’t apologize,” she says gently. “I’m the one that… did that to you. It was my fault. And I don’t want you getting yelled at because of something I did.”

I finally build up the courage to look her in the eyes. Even in the dim light of the supply closet, they somehow shine like the brightest stars in the night sky—Beautiful, yet unreachable. “It wasn’t entirely your fault. I also… did that to you.”

Minji chuckles softly, and I forget everything happening outside. Right now, it’s just the two of us, hand in hand, in our own little pocket of the universe. No Sunghoon, no parents, no expectations—just us.

The one-minute warning bell reminds me that life isn’t that simple. 

“Hurry up, you two,” Danielle reminds us from the other side of the door.

Minji lets out a heavy sigh, her gaze falling to the floor. “I’m sure you saw already, but Sunghoon enrolling here isn’t just some coincidence. My father told me that I can’t be around you anymore, and Sunghoon is here to make sure that I don’t disobey him,” she explains, her voice small.

My heart drops from my chest, free falling into the pit left in my stomach. “W-what? But—”

Danielle peeks her head through the door. “We have to head to class now or else we’ll be late,” she warns us, an apologetic look in her eyes.

“W-wait, I—”

“I’m sorry, Yuno,” Minji says, letting go of my hand. “I’ll think of something. Just… avoid me for now.”

I can’t get another word out before her and Danielle run off to class, leaving me alone in this musty supply closet. The space she occupied just seconds before seems so vast and empty now. Her warmth still lingers on my fingers. I don’t want it to fade.

If I knew this would be the first and last time I got to hold her hand, I would’ve done everything I could just to hold her for a second longer. Now all I have is the ache of her hand leaving mine.

______________________________________________________________

My spork picks at the mush sitting on my lunch tray, completely untouched. No matter how loud the grumbling in my stomach gets, I just can’t seem to bring myself to eat anything. Not after what just happened.

Minji’s words echo through my mind. How am I supposed to just avoid her? A couple of weeks ago, that would’ve been easy—we were nothing more than passing faces to each other. But now, she’s all I ever think about these days. I want to talk to her. I want to hear her voice. I want to be with her. But I can’t. And it’s all because of that rich piece of shit.

“U-um, Yuno?” Winter asks, her voice barely heard over the whirlwind in my head. “A-are you a-alright? You’ve b-been really quiet.”

“Quieter than usual,” Yujin adds. “It’s getting a little worrying, man.”

I sigh. “I’m just… having an off day. I’ll be fine.” 

Yujin frowns, but doesn’t push. “You’d tell us if something was wrong… right? We’re your friends,” he says. All I can give him is a small nod. I know I should tell them and quell their worries, but I just can’t. I’m weighed down enough as it is. I don’t need them going down with me.

A burst of laughter shoots out from the center of the lunch room. Sunghoon is at the middle of it all, chatting and laughing with Bryce’s group of all people. Of fucking course. Trash attracts trash. He notices me looking at him, but I don’t even bother trying to mask the anger in my eyes. Let him fucking glare back. In fact, I wish he would come up here and do something about it. My life is already fucked up as it is. I don’t mind putting the last nail in the coffin if it means I get to slam him into the pavement.

“Y-Yuno…”

“WHAT!?” I bark, my chest rapidly rising with heavy breath. Half of the lunch room goes silent as they look back at me, confused and scared from my sudden outburst. It takes too long for me to comprehend Winter’s eyes squeezed shut and her shaky hands shielding her face.

Shit. “S-sorry, I didn’t…” I sigh, taking a moment to calm down. “I’m sorry, guys, I just… I-I…” What the hell is wrong with me?

Winter lowers her hands slowly, blinking at me with wide, glassy eyes like she doesn’t even recognize me.  I pick up my tray and toss it into the trash as the whole lunchroom watches me leave. I just need to be alone right now. I glance back at Yujin and Winter one last time, but I can’t meet their eyes. All I see is Sunghoon’s shit eating grin as the doors shut behind me.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

I sigh, refreshing my email for the hundredth time, waiting for a response from my treasurer. Do people not check their emails nowadays? I could get a reply in seconds if I just had my phone.

I shut my laptop and rest my forehead on the table, feeling utterly exhausted despite barely making any progress on prom. The library is supposed to be a quiet place to get work done, but with all the noise rumbling around in my head, it’s impossible to even think straight. Every time I try to get on track, Yuno’s face pops up in my mind like an ad that I can’t get rid of. One I don’t even want to, honestly.

He looked so sad when we talked in the supply closet. So tired. We finally got a chance to talk last night, and now I have no idea when I’ll be able to see him again. And that kiss. Everytime I close my eyes, it’s like I can feel him on my lips again. That same electricity, that same warmth, that same tenderness.

“Yo Minj.”

“AH!” I jump up in my seat, my yelp echoing throughout the library and receiving a harsh shush from the librarian.

Hanni points and laughs at me as my face grows warm from her ridicule. “Girl, what’s got you all jumpy? Daydreaming about Yuno again?” she teases with that impish grin.

I sigh and faceplant into the table. “No… Maybe, I don’t know…” I grumble.

“Aww, look at you, all in love and stuff.” Hanni plops down into the chair next to me, laying her face down next to mine. “So how’d the banquet go? You never texted us back last night.”

I let out a long groan, muffled by the table. “My parents took my phone.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Ooh… Sounds serious.” She scoots her chair closer to me. “I’m listening.”

I sigh, mentally preparing myself to relive last night’s events over again. “Okay, so… God, where do I even start?”

“Whatever you feel like telling me,” she says, patting my back.

“Okay, uh… The banquet itself was fine, just a lot of talking to people. I could tell Yuno was overwhelmed, even if he tried not to show it. He ended up sneaking outside to get some fresh air, and then we had a chance to talk, just the two of us. I apologized to him for freaking out about the, uh—”

“The kiss you almost had in the nurse’s office?” Hanni interjects with an impish grin.

Is she trying to spill my secrets to the whole library?! “Hanni!”

“What, am I wrong?” she giggles.

“...N-no.” I swear, she’s going to give me a heart attack one of these days. “A-anyways, I finally got to apologize, and then we just continued talking, and then, uh… We, uh…” Oh God. I kissed him for real. That wasn’t an “almost” or a dream or some hallucination—that was real.

The way I go silent and red in the face must have set off an alarm  in Hanni’s head because all of a sudden, her grin spreads so wide, the Cheshire cat would look like a regular stray kitten.

“You…! Did you two…?! You did, didn’t you?!” Hanni rapidly fires, smacking my arm in excitement. “Minji, Oh my god!” 

I bury my face into my hands, the delayed realization hitting me like a speeding train. I kissed Yuno Lin. For the first time in my life, I, Minji Kim, kissed a boy. And it was amazing.

And now I can never see that boy again.

I let out a long, sad groan into my hands at the thought. I’ve been a straight-A student all my life, I’ve helped out whenever I could, I try my best to show everyone kindness and respect, can’t the universe throw me a bone and let me have this one thing go right? I love my parents, but why should their opinions matter when it’s my life at the end of the day? I just want to date a stupid boy.

“Hello,” I hear Danielle’s voice greet, followed by the sound of her taking the seat next to me. “What’s her problem?”

“Did you know about this?!” Hanni asks her.

“The banquet? Yeah, Minji filled me in earlier. Yuno was there, Minji got to apologize, and then that one guy she hates got her in trouble, and now she has no phone and can’t speak to Yuno. Did I miss anything?”

“So you knew about the kiss and didn’t tell me?! Dani!”

“Kiss? What kiss?”

I peek through my fingers, catching Danielle’s eyes, wide with concern, aimed straight at me. “I, um… I may have, uh…” I stutter.

Danielle gasps, clapping her hands over her mouth. “Minji!”

“Shhh!” the librarian shoots at us from her desk. “Ladies, keep it down!”

“S-sorry…” I mutter with an apologetic smile.

“Wait, who’s the guy that you hate?” Hanni asks.

“Sunghoon,” I grimace, his name leaving a bad taste in my mouth. “He’s just an awful human being. Our parents are friends, so I was forced to be around him basically my entire childhood. He caught Yuno and I… y’know… and told my parents about it, so now I don’t have my phone, and he enrolled into Evergreen today to make sure that Yuno and I can’t be around each other.”

“Jeez, dude,” Hanni sighs, resting her head on my shoulder. “That really sucks.”

Danielle pats my knee, nodding in agreement. “We’ll do whatever we can to help, okay? This is a very… complicated situation, but you shouldn’t have to deal with all that alone.”

I breathe, feeling slightly lighter than before. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

The hair on the back of my neck suddenly stands up as I feel an off-putting presence enter the room. My gaze shoots towards the library doors, and the devil himself walks in, strutting around like he hasn’t just ruined my life. Sunghoon leans against the librarian’s desk, shooting her that cheesy smirk. It’s all just an act, a mask that he puts on to trick other people into thinking he’s a good person. But I know the truth. Underneath that mask is nothing but an ugly slimeball of arrogance and egotism.

He notices me glaring at him, grins, and shoots a wink in my direction before walking off. Disgusting. If karma exists, I hope it takes everything Sunghoon ever did to me and gives it back to him tenfold. If only fate were that kind.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

Yujin and Winter exchange concerned glances as I lean against my locker, just barely holding myself up. As if yesterday wasn’t bad enough, today I somehow feel so much worse. Still couldn’t get a wink of sleep, still couldn’t bring myself to take a bite of breakfast, and I’m honestly surprised I managed to make it to school without passing out in the middle of the street.

“Winter, this is getting really bad,” Yujin mutters to her. She whispers something back into his ear that I can’t quite make out. Fuck, I still haven’t apologized about my outburst at lunch yesterday. I just left without another word. It seems like that’s all I’m good for these days.

I open my mouth. Try to say anything. But all that comes out is a grunt, like even my throat has given up on me.

“Yuno, we’ve tried being patient, but this is getting too much,” Yujin says, raising his voice a bit. “What is going on?”

I look at them. I see the worry in their eyes, their lips pressed together into thin lines, waiting for me to say the magic words that’ll make all of this go away. I want to tell them. God, I really want to. But I can’t. What good would it do?

Maybe they’d want to help, but there’s nothing they can do to change the fact that I’m still the same piece of shit that Minji’s parents believe I am. If they somehow get rid of Sunghoon, then what’s next? They send another ten Sunghoon’s to spy on us in his place? They move Minji to a different school halfway across the world? Hell, they probably have enough money to pay a hitman to make my death look like an accident. And with how my life is going, maybe I wouldn’t mind that.

“I’m… fine,” I lie, my voice scratchy and low.

Yujin just sighs, his head hanging low. “No, you’re not…” I hear him mutter under his breath.

I just need a moment for myself to think. Some peace and quiet. That’ll help. Surely. I stumble past the two of them, dragging my feet underneath me, my vision just clear enough for me to not bump into anyone else in the hallway. I don’t know what I’m gonna do or how I’m gonna do it—I never have—but the fluorescent lights are too bright, and the colored tiles on the ground are too dull, and everything is just so loud, and I just need to be alone right now.

Through the vague silhouette of students, I meet a certain pair of honey brown eyes at the end of the hallway and time stops. It’s quiet now. It feels like forever since I last got to peer into Minji’s eyes. She’s so close—yet, we couldn’t be farther apart than now. There’s so much I want to say. I miss her. No amount of physical pain I’ve ever suffered compares to the aching in my heart when I think about her. I almost wish I never met Minji just so I never have to feel this way.

The illusion breaks as Sunghoon steps into my sight, towing around the worst kinds of people Evergreen has to offer. That son of a bitch. Worse yet, he approaches Minji, and they all crowd around her. I can’t make out what they’re saying. They’re all laughing around her, but she looks uncomfortable. Sunghoon just keeps on flapping his lips, spewing some bullshit probably.

And then he puts his arm around her—before I can take a second to think, my legs are already dragging me towards him. My heart beats loudly in my chest, pumping adrenaline into the rest of my body, preparing me for what I’m about to do. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care who he is or what Minji’s parents will do if I touch him. I’m sorry, Minji, but old habits die hard.

“...Minji and I are actually old childhood friends—AGH!” I interrupt whatever stupid story he was telling and grab his neck, slamming him into the lockers with a loud thud that echoes throughout the hallways. Everyone goes silent, watching this whole scene with bated breath. Fuck it. Let them watch. I want everyone to see the beating I’m about to give this son of a bitch.

My ears ring like sirens going off in my head. My chest rises with rapid breath. I squeeze my hand, tightening my hold on Sunghoon’s neck, desperately wanting to see the life drain from his eyes—but all he does is laugh. Like this is some fucking joke. Like taking away the one thing that made me happy was some harmless prank.

“I-I’m sure… Minji’s p-parents… would love to h-hear about this,” he manages to choke out. Tell them for all I care. Let’s see how you talk with a broken windpipe.

“Yuno!”

I hear Minji’s voice, and all of a sudden, I come back to my senses. The way she says my name, her voice cracking like she’s stepping carefully on thin ice, trying not to fall under. Regret fills my head like a thick smoke, making it hard to decipher what’s right and wrong.

“Put him down. Please,” she urges gently. Reluctantly, I loosen my grip on Sunghoon’s throat and drop him to the floor. My hand shakes like it has a mind of its own, yelling at me for not following through. It would have been so easy to end everything right then and there. But I didn’t. Because of Minji.

I glance back at her, at Yujin and Winter, at the crowd of students watching, bewildered and completely terrified. I don’t say anything—What could I even say in a situation like this?—and I just walk off to god knows where.

Everyone’s staring. I can feel Minji’s eyes on the back of my head, the words I didn’t say burning holes in my throat. I don’t turn. I don’t stop. I just need a single fucking moment. 

To think. To breathe. To not exist.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

My laptop is open. The student council room is peaceful, quiet, the kind of calm I crave when I’m working—but all I can do is stare blankly at the screen. How can I possibly focus after witnessing all of that?

It was… scary. I’ve never seen Yuno look like that. Sure, I’m aware of his past and the things he’s done, but he didn’t seem like his normal self. I’m worried about him. My mind keeps replaying that same scene over and over again, Yuno’s hand wrapped around Sunghoon’s throat, trying to make sense of it all. I keep seeing that look in Yuno’s eyes. That wasn’t his normal self. It was something darker. Angrier. Fearful.

I don’t know. I just hope he’s okay.

“Hey there,” a voice says from the doorway.

I flinch. Speak of the devil. Sunghoon steps into the room, that same off-putting grin plastered on his face as he looks around the room. “Nice place you got here,” he comments, chuckling at his own joke.

I don’t look at him. “What do you want?”

“I come bearing gifts.” He sets a wrapped pastry in front of me. “You look tired. You should eat something, y’know, fuel for the brain.”

I slide the pastry back towards him. “No thanks.”

“C’mon, Minji. I insist.” He slides it back towards me, and it takes me every ounce of my self-control to not blow up in his face.

“Is this all you came to do?” I ask curtly, not sparing him a glance.

“Well, no. I actually came to talk to you. Heard you were in charge of prom preparations.”

“Yeah. So what?”

“Just wanted to know how things were going.” Sunghoon sits back onto the table, relaxed and slow. How pleasant it must be, to live so selfishly. “Do you… have a date for prom?” he asks, looking up at the ceiling.

I slam onto the keyboard a bit too hard, grabbing his attention. “If you don’t have anything useful to say, then I suggest you leave. Only student council members are permitted to enter this room.”

“What’s got you so worked up?” he chuckles, as if I said something funny. Surely, he has to be doing this on purpose? There’s no way he’s this oblivious, right?

“Look, can you just leave already? I’m trying to get work done.”

He scoffs. “What is your problem? I’m trying to be the nice guy here and you’re acting like I kicked your dog.”

I huff, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. “Are you kidding me? After everything you did, you think you’re still the nice guy in this situation?”

“Oh my god, is this about what happened with Yuno?” He lets out a laugh full of amusement. “He’s the one that attacked me, I’m the victim here!”

“Maybe you deserved it,” I mutter.

The smirk from his face drops just a bit. “You don’t mean that.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’ve only been here two days and you’ve done nothing but make life harder for both of us.”

Sunghoon squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a long exhale. “I can’t believe you’re still hung up over him. Can’t you see that he’s wrong for you?”

“You don’t even know him—”

“I don’t need to know him!” he lashes out, jumping to his feet and pacing around the room. His mask slips, just for a moment. There he is. “He’s nothing but a knuckle-dragging gorilla that only knows how to solve problems with his fists!”

“Sunghoon, shut up—”

“You’ve only known this guy for what, a couple weeks?! I’ve been there for you my whole life! I’ve always looked out for you!”

“I don’t need you looking out for me! I never have!” I shoot back. My vision stings. My chest is about to explode. But I won’t cry. I won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Oh my god, do you know how insane you sound?! You’re making the worst decision of your life by choosing him!”

I slam my laptop and stand up to meet his level. “Get out,” I command, low and firm. “Now.”

He scoffs in my face. “Minji, let’s just—”

“OUT!”

The echo of my own voice rings in my ears. My throat burns from the scream. But I don’t regret it.

Sunghoon flinches at my outburst. “Fine,” he mutters, straightening out his uniform. I don’t stop glaring at him until he leaves the room, and even then, my gaze stays focused on the door for a few minutes after he leaves like I’m expecting him to pop his stupid little face back through the doorway.

After standing there for a while, I finally collapse back into my chair—exhausted, frustrated, and utterly lost. 

All this stress because I kissed a boy. 

One moment of happiness. And somehow, everything fell apart.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

I should’ve kept my head down.

I should’ve walked away.

I should’ve known better.

But I didn’t. And now…

God, what the hell am I even doing anymore?

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here in this empty classroom. Could be hours. Maybe the bell rang. It doesn’t matter. I’m just… tired. Not the kind of tired that a couple hours of sleep can fix. I can feel it rooted in my bones, eating away at my organs like a cancer.

My phone keeps buzzing every now and then. I don’t bother to check them anymore. It’s just Yujin and Winter. I don’t even know where to begin with them. I feel sick, pushing them away like this. But I can’t move. I can’t speak. I can’t do anything but sit here and stare at the dusty shelf by the windows.

Maybe I would’ve been content never meeting Minji. If I hadn’t offered to walk her home, if I hadn’t spent the night at her house, if I hadn’t ridden that Ferris wheel with her, then maybe I would never have learned the pain of having someone so close to your heart, only to be ripped away in the blink of an eye. That night underneath the full moon where we shared our first and final kiss felt like so long ago.

She was right there. In my arms. The stars reflected in her eyes, her hair draping down her neck like silk, her lips gently pressed against mine, soft and delicate. I wonder if it was all real or just a mirage created by fate to trick me into thinking something good could happen.

For a moment, I try to picture life without Minji. Floating from class to class, head down and my hands in my pockets. Probably continue sticking my nose into places where I shouldn’t be, getting into more fights, gaining some new bruises. Maybe I would be expelled at this point. Or worse. But at least I wouldn’t have to feel like this. I would never have to know what I was missing.

My phone buzzes against the desk. Then another. And another. I groan and finally check it, expecting another text from Yujin or Winter.

But it’s not them.

An unknown number flashes on the screen, calling me. I answer it. I don’t know why. Maybe curiosity or a random gut feeling.

I say hello, I think. It comes out more like a grunt than a greeting. An unfamiliar female voice comes through the speaker. She asks me if I’m Yuno Lin. I say yes. Her words come in vague blurs, but her tone sounds urgent. Something about a hospital. Alcohol withdrawals. Passing out on the street.

My dad.

I hang up before she can finish and sprint out of the room. My feet slam against the ground with each step, trying to navigate through the halls. I get weird looks. I knock a few people over. But I don’t care.

I just need to get to the hospital as soon as I can. Please be okay. Please, please, please…

______________________________________________________________

The doors of the ER blast open and I stumble in, sweat dripping down my face and my legs on fire from running all the way here. Everything is immediately overwhelming—the fluorescent lights, the onslaught of chatter, the sharp scent of chemicals. I rush over to the front desk, gripping the counter to keep from falling over.

“I-I got a call,” I gasp. “M-my dad, Ian Lin. They said he was brought here.”

The nurse behind the counter glances up at me, already typing something into the computer. “Your name?”

“Yuno. Yuno Lin.”

She types some more, picks up the phone, and says something into it that I can’t make out over the roaring in my ears

“He’s in Room 12. A nurse will come shortly to escort you there.”

My eyes dart around to the various hallways leading to who knows where. Fuck. Where’s Room 12? Where am I supposed to go? The last time I was at the ER was when my mom…

“Yuno Lin?” A woman in navy scrubs calls out my name, beckoning me gently. “This way.”

I follow her down the white hallways, passing by rooms full of sick and injured people. White’s supposed to make you feel at ease, but all it does is conjure up old memories of the worst day of my life. The constant beeping of machines, nurses and doctors talking over each other, the fear in my mind making me unable to think straight. For fuck’s sake, I can’t go through this again.

We arrive at Room 12 and I see my dad laying there, unconscious and hooked up to various machines. His hands tremor against the sheets. Sweat covers his body. His skin’s gone pale like wax. He’s never looked this small before. 

But he’s breathing. It’s weak, but he’s breathing.

“Your father was brought in after having a seizure, likely triggered by alcohol withdrawals,” the nurse says gently. “He’s stable for now and getting the care he needs, but we’ll be monitoring him closely for the next 24 to 48 hours. He’s dehydrated and his vitals were erratic when he came in, but we’ve got him on fluids and medication to manage the symptoms.”

I don’t speak. I just watch my dad’s chest rise and fall slowly with breath. The nurse gives me a soft pat on the shoulder before exiting the room, leaving me alone with him. I don’t move. I can’t. Like there’s an invisible barrier between me and the hospital bed. Like I’m just watching him through a screen. I’m afraid if I get any closer, it’ll all be too real. 

Eventually, I turn around and leave, only to be met with the same sad white walls that line the inside of his room. My legs can only carry me a couple steps before I collapse onto a bench in the hallway. I’m so fucking exhausted. Not just from today or yesterday—from the past 18 years of my life. I don’t know why I bother waking up when this is all there is. This lonely, draining, shitty existence.

I let out a single, shaky breath. And then the tears start to fall. They drain from my eyes like a dam that finally breaks, leaking through my fingers even as I try to cover it up. Is this really it for me? Dragging myself through life, just to end up here again—same tragedy, same helplessness, same shitty story. Just with a different parent in the bed this time.

The gentle hand of a stranger rests on my shoulder as I cry. I don’t turn to see who it is. I couldn’t face anyone. Not like this. But as the tears dry up and there’s no more left to cry, I’m forced to confront the fact that the world is still turning. I’m still here.

“Th-thanks,” I mutter softly, sniffling. I turn my head to meet the kind stranger that sat by me, but with the tears clouding my vision, I swear they look like Minji for a moment. 

I can’t help but let out a low chuckle. “God, do I really miss her that much?” I ask, more to myself than them. “I’m sorry you had to—Minji?”

A small smile breaks through her trembling lips.

“Hey,” she whispers.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

The hospital room smells like bleach and wilted flowers. The TV’s stuck on some stock report that I don’t care to understand and the constant beeping feels like it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

I sit quietly, smiling like I care—but I don’t know this man. He’s just some high-ranking executive at my father’s company. I don’t know why he’s here, or what illness he has, or what I’m supposed to feel. Frankly, I couldn’t care less. I’m just here to keep up appearances that the Kims are a put-together, stable, nuclear family.

“Thank you again for visiting me, sir!” the man says to my father. “And Minji, it’s so good to see you again! You’ve grown up a lot since I last saw you.”

I give him a polite smile. It doesn’t reach my eyes. “It’s a pleasure to see you as well.”

My father checks his watch. “We should get going. We do hope you feel better soon, Mr. Nam.” It’s almost impressive how a kind sentiment like that manages to lack so much warmth, even as he says it with a full smile. I wonder if that’s where I learned it from.

As soon as the door shuts behind us, the curtains close and the three of us are back to our regular selves—cold, distant, and silent. The hallways echo with the sound of expensive shoes, too expensive to be sensible for a hospital. Appearances are appearances. They tell me what to wear and how to act, like I’m their perfect little doll instead of their living, breathing, human daughter. It’s all about the illusion—give everyone a good look so they think you’re fine.

“How were classes today, dear?,” my mother asks as we step onto the elevator. It descends to the first floor with a monotonous hum.

“They were fine, mother,” I answer. Succinct, poised, and proper—exactly how they told me to speak.

“Just fine? I can set you up with a private tutor if those classes aren’t challenging enough for you,” she says, taking out her phone. “Mrs. Park recommended me all of Sunghoon’s tutors, their résumés are truly remarkable.”

I fight back a sigh. The last thing I need is to start an argument in this cramped space. “I will… think about it.”

Thankfully, she leaves it at that. The doors open to the first floor, and as we make our way towards the exit, I feel an odd tingling sensation on the back of my neck. I freeze in my tracks, an invisible force keeping me from moving.

“Minji?” my father says, looking back at me. “What are you doing? Let’s go.”

I shake my head. “My apologies, I just feel… odd.” I look around at the hospital, searching for something—but I’m not sure what. My eyes dart from person to person, looking for a hint of familiarity within them.

“Is something the matter, dear?” my mother asks, but I don’t answer. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel like if I exit those doors, I’ll regret it for the rest of myself. Through the haze of sterile white coats and tired faces, I spot him—a lone boy, hunched over on a bench, shoulders trembling, hands in his face.

My breath catches in my throat. In an instant, I know who it is. I make a dash for him, ignoring my parents calling out to me as a thousand questions float around in my head.

Why is Yuno here?

Is he okay?

Why is he crying?

I slow down as I near the bench, not wanting to startle him. My heart breaks in two seeing him like this—crying, alone, in the hospital of all places. I sit down next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Each sob ripples through his body and it takes all my restraint not to cry with him. Whatever happened, he needs support. And I want to be that for him. So many words dance on the tip of my tongue, but I keep them to myself for now. We’ll have a chance to talk later. I’m sure of it.

I stay with him until the end. Eventually, Yuno calms down and lifts his head up. He looks… beat down. Like he hasn’t slept in days. His words back at the banquet echo in my head, reminding me of just how much he suffered in his life. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this. I want Yuno to be happy. I want to see him smile without fear. I want to see him laugh without constantly looking over his shoulder. I want to see what he looks like when he’s freely and truly happy.

I don’t care about what my parents think, or what Sunghoon thinks, or what anyone else thinks about him for that matter. He deserves to live a life where pain isn’t the only thing he knows.

“Th-thanks,” Yuno mutters softly as he turns to face me. He lets out a low chuckle, wiping the tears from his eyes. “God, do I really miss her that much?”

I grow curious for a moment. Who does he miss?

“I’m sorry you had to—Minji?”

I push the thought to the back of my mind, a small smile breaking through my trembling lips as I gaze at Yuno’s face for the first time in what feels like forever.

“Hey.”

[gilverrwrites]

Quick and Dirty

Pairing: Captain Boomerang/Reader

Digger has an idea, it involves highly inappropriate usage of the Speed Force Gauntlet. (Please ignore the fact that the gauntlet doesn't actually extend to the fingers - at least i'm pretty sure it doesn't)

You're currently reading the AMAB version

>[Please click here for the AFAB version]<

Rating: 18+

Words: >800

Content: Established relationship, coercion (kinda), handjob, vibrations, dirty talk, spit, swearing.

Please remember: to do the things that make you happy.

Ko-Fi || Masterlist || Request Info

“No. Fucking. Way.” You warn, leaning back against the wall and crossing your arms defensively. “You keep that thing away from me.”

“Oh, come on, Darlin’.” Digger is still smiling, crooked, confident, casual. He gestures to the speed gauntlet strapped to his other arm. “It’s perfectly safe. You’ve seen me usin’ it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You examine the glove in question. It would be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued. You didn’t know much about the speed force beyond whatever half-truths Digger rambled on about, it seemed intricate, and unsafe. But Boomerang was a good lay, and he’d used that thing to save your skin in the field more than once, so you were willing to tentatively hear him out. “If that thing goes off midway, I don’t want my bits going with it.”

“That won’t happen… Probably.” Concern did flash across his face briefly, but it was quickly hidden by his usual bravado. He stepped closer to you, not quite close enough to touch, but enough that you could smell him, that you could feel the high energy radiating from him. Or maybe that was the gauntlet. “Have a little faith in ol’ Boomer, aye. I’ll treat you right, make you feel real good.”

“Okay… but if anything happens to mine.” You point to your crotch before gesturing to the growing erection in Digger's trousers. “I’m using yours as target practice.”

That might have been a boner killer for other men, but Digger's enthusiasm when it comes to sex or showing off knows no bounds, and this is a perfect opportunity for both. His eyes glint with mischief, with victory. He licks his lips, and you know there’s no backing out now, you’re fucked.

Digger maintains eye contact as he reaches out, there’s no pleasantries. He makes quick work undoing your trousers, hooking his gloved fingers in your boxers, and pulling them both down until they’re positioned halfway down your thighs.

“What, no foreplay?” You challenge, raising your brows at him.

“You’re not gonna need it.” The look he gives you is so coy, so amused. It should fuel your cynicism, but it looks hot on him. “But, since ya asked so nicely, I guess I can spare a lil somethin’.”

He rests his unarmed hand on the wall beside you and leans in, occupying your lips with his. You’re only allowed a moment to enjoy it before you feel the brisk metal finger plates of the gauntlet wrap around your half hard cock. You hiss at the contact, and Digger pulls his hand back immediately.

“Sorry bout that. Shoulda warmed it up first.” His expression flips to sheepish as he brushes his fingers against his scarf. He blows on it a few times before spitting into his palm and continuing. “Right, let’s try that again.”

He resumes the position, one hand on the wall, one hand slinking back between your legs, and his face just inches from yours. The temperature has barely improved, but he’s able touch your dick without causing you to flinch this time.

You’re still underwhelmed as he starts slowly pumping up and down your shaft. To give him a fighting chance, you close your eyes, hoping it will help you focus on the feeling.

“Aye, no no no. Keep your eyes open.” As you follow his instruction, you hear a quiet whizzing from below, a lesser sound than the gauntlet's normal powering up. “I wanna watch your reaction.”

Then it hits you, an intense pulsing, jerking you at an impossible speed. The wall prevents you from being able to roll your head back, so you stare at Digger, wide-eyed as your body tingles and burns.

“Shhhhiiiiit, you like that.” His voice is dripping with fervour, and it only serves to add an extra level of throbbing to your cock. Already approaching your climax, you’re unable to find the words to respond, instead fisting your hands around Digger's leather lapels in anticipation. “You reallllly like that, don’t ya?”

A nod is all you can manage as you begin to jerk and quiver, hitting your climax in record time. It’s hot and searing, like lightning is running through your whole body. Seemingly endless ropes of cum spills between your bodies, sullying both your clothes and the gauntlet.

The tips of your fingers and toes, among other things, are still twitching as you start to catch your breath moments later. You can barely comprehend whatever Digger is prattling on about. He’s waving the gauntlet around, his arm moving so fast you can’t make it out. There’s lots of brash laughter and ‘I told ya so’s. You’re finally able to fully tune in as he in as he declares; “We have gotta do that again, soon.”

[when-jaguars-are-sick]

Feveruary Day 24

Rowyn closes the door behind him, leaning against it for a minute, Colin’s words still ringing in his ears:

“Don’t you think you should stay home today? You’re literally shaking.”

He wraps his jacket around himself, pushing off the door. He braces against the vertigo that sweeps through him at the movement, and he walks briskly down the stairs and outside. He decides against a bus this morning, hoping that the fresh air will clear his head and knowing the bus’ movement would not help him feel better.

He grudgingly realizes that Colin was right, he is shaking. His whole body wracks with shivers as he trudges through the mild March weather. He pulls out his phone, to confirm his schedule for the day, but his fingers are trembling enough that it’s near impossible to navigate the screen, and he gives up, sliding his hands into his pocket and focusing on the walk.

Within minutes of entering the university library, he’s shrugging off his jacket, feeling claustrophobically warm despite his fingers still shaking from shivers.

He groans under his breath, now certain he has a fever. His stomach twinges with the dull queasiness that accompanies a fever, and he winces, regretting the small breakfast he had.

That’s probably the point that he should have turned around, or called someone to pick him up, anything to be tucked in bed. But of course, that’s not what he does, instead finding a small table in the corner of the library and pulling out a textbook and paper. He fishes around for a pen, and then turns his attention to his work.

He slogs through some questions at a quarter his normal speed, eyes blurring as he tries to decipher the questions, as if they’re written in Latin rather than English.

His head drops lower to the paper with each minute, as he keeps trying to reach an answer.

His head snaps up from the desk and he looks around with panic in his eyes, trying to understand. Oh shit, did he fall asleep? A quick glance at his phone shows that yes, he did fall asleep, for a whole three hours. It takes him a minute longer to process what that actually means, before he’s scrambling out of his seat and haphazardly throwing everything back into his bag because he missed a lecture. Or the start of it anyways.

He hurries out of the library, and across the main pathway into the science building, the hallway swinging around him as he tries to find his way to the lecture hall.

Outside the door, he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down despite the way his eyes prickle with tears against his will. He leans his head against the wall, the coolness soothing against his burning forehead, and he wills the tears to recede, reassuring himself that everything will be fine. It will be fine.

He slowly makes his way into the hall, finding a seat in the back row, and he drops into it, pulling out a fresh piece of paper and his pen, and trying to focus on the professor. He’s annoyed to find himself nodding off again, having to pull himself back to attention. His notes do not resemble his normal neat lines of ink, instead a messy scrawl covering the page as an incoherent collection of thoughts from the lecture.

By the time the lecture finishes, his head is pounding, and his stomach is still sitting at that low-level queasiness, and all around he feels awful.

He considers going back to the library, because as awful as he feels, he has work to do, especially after the disaster of the class. His emotions win out though, as tears work their way into his eyes again, and he fumbles with his phone, shaky fingers finding Colin’s name, and tapping out a message.

You wererught dont geel good

He stumbles over to a bench in the hallway and drops onto it, slouching over himself and putting his head in his hands.

His phone ringing draws his attention, relieved when it’s Colin.

“Hey,” he says shakily.

“Where are you?” asks Colin, somehow both stern and concerned.

“Um,” Rowyn looks around himself, “Science building, outside lecture.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you outside the science building, alright? By the library? I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

“‘Kay.”

Rowyn pulls himself to his feet, barely remembering to grab his bag, and slowly leaves the building. The sun pierces his eyes and he stumbles over to lean against a tree. A few minutes later and there’s Colin, hurrying toward him with his mouth turned down in a sad little frown. Rowyn just pulls away from the tree and falls into Colin’s arms, overheated face pressing against his shoulder.

“Alright, let’s get you home, and then you’re going to sleep, drink water, and eat food.”

“Okay,” he answers. Clearly that’s what his body decided needs to happen today, even if his brain is telling him there’s not time. And it seems his body won today, especially when helped by Colin.

[casanovawrites]

FROM season 2 sentence starters (part 2)

we can’t have new people stealing what little food we have.

you fucking stabbed me!

they probably all think you’ve gone crazy.

you’re talking to a figment of your imagination. but hey, sometimes crazy is the most rational response you could have.

you tried. not every story gets a happy ending.

it’s real, and i’m fucking terrified.

you’re okay. you’re okay. look at me.

i’m not really good with blood.

i can feel them. even if i can’t see them, i can feel them.

you wanna play games? i’m right here. i’m ready.

i told my mom and dad i wasn’t scared. but i am.

i’m a little scared, too. but guess what? that’s a good thing.

fear is something that lives inside us, just like hope or joy or love. they’re all things that make us special. but fear might be the most important one of all because without fear, we wouldn’t know how to be brave. fear is what makes us heroes.

i should’ve listened to you. i should’ve trusted you.

you’re about to willingly bring something evil into your home.

i know you want all this to make sense, i know you want there to be a rational explanation. 

what’s the point of being friends if we can’t BE friends?

you’re shivering. here. 

it’s dead. how is it going to hurt us?

all i do here is put broken things back together. 

yeah, i’m scared. i’m fucking terrified. that’s why i need you in there with me. i can’t do this without you.

we’re in this together, remember? you and me.

i love you. and all i want is for you to be happy. but i can’t watch you do something that might get you killed.

what if this place is trying to torture me, mock me?

we have seen a lot of horrible, impossible shit here. we just assume anything impossible that happens here is bad.

you met the love of your life in the middle of your worst fucking nightmare.

a miracle is just the other side of a nightmare.

you’re not being punished. maybe this is just a scary place where fucked up shit happens, and there’s no explanation why.

when things change here, it’s usually bad.

this was our chance. it couldn’t have been for nothing.

this place, it’s like as soon as you start to think, ‘you know, maybe today i won’t go insane,’ something new comes along, and it’s like, ‘hey, wait ’til you see this!’

i’ve just accepted that i’m never going to be comfortable again.

i’m gonna be all right, you know? you don’t have to worry about me.

what if the answers are out there, we just didn’t go out far enough?

there’s no place for me here. no one even wants me here.

there’s a difference between going out there and running away from here.

is it just physically impossible for you not to be an asshole for 10 minutes?

what this place did to you, it isn’t fair.

people shouldn’t go looking for answers. they don’t come back.

bad things happen here no matter what.

i’m afraid to remember.

i got so used to being scared, it just felt normal.

are you honestly saying that our fucking dreams can hurt us now?

things here feel different now. they feel wrong.

this place feeds on our pain. but what if it does more than that? 

i’m not planning on dying here tonight.

i’m not going to lose another person to ‘probably.’

i’m not listening to this shit all fucking night, okay?

everything is a story, and we’re the ones who decide how it ends.

i know it’s painful for you, seeing me every day.

i know what i’ve done. i’ll never be able to take it back. i ruined people’s lives.

i didn’t ask for any of this. 

you think you’re the only one who lost something? i’ve lost everything. 

everything i was, and everything i could have been, is gone.

this place destroyed the only person i ever get to be, and i’m tired. i’m tired of being afraid, and i’m tired of being ashamed. 

i don’t want to be here anymore. i don’t want to be your monster anymore. i just want it to be over.

it’s like trying to imagine a jigsaw puzzle without all the pieces.

we can’t just sit here hoping for the best. 

i don’t need a fucking reminder of what’s at stake.

why do people ask if i’m okay, when the answer’s obvious?

let’s get married. today. we have no idea what’s going to happen.

if this is the end, then i want it to end with you.

how far are you willing to go to find answers?

you know what, motherfucker? i’m not here to pray. 

all i am is a dumb motherfucker who keeps getting people killed.

is this how it ends?

i actually allowed myself to believe that there was a plan to all of this. that there was something we were meant to do here. 

we’re all going to die here, and all of this would’ve been for nothing.

did i say give up? this might be the last few hours any of us get. 

life is a journey through the unknown. though your eyes and mind sometimes deceive you, your heart will never lie.

my heart’s belonged to you since the moment i met you. you’re the love of my life, for as long as that life may last.

there has been so many times here when i felt like i was stumbling in the dark. but each and every time, you were the light that guided me through.

you are my love. you are my home. you are my light in dark places. 

they’re all going to die screaming.

hope is what makes you willing to suffer. 

it’s not your fear that feeds the forest. it’s hope.

[yell0wsalt]

Better - Hot Shade

I took this song into an AU where Iroh and Asami are in an awkward situationship. Both are terrible at communicating when they want more than what they’re currently getting, afraid of opening the can of worms. Iroh assumed because of Asami’s busy schedule she wouldn’t have time for a relationship. Asami believed Iroh couldn’t want more with his sporadic time at sea.

There they go making assumptions.

They both can’t do casual. Life is better with the other in it.

–

Asami had been laying in her sheets, eyes raking up and down Iroh’s form in front of her. Wordlessly, she took in his scent and presence.

Iroh had been doing just the same and began to reach out and run his fingers through her hair.

Breaking the easy silence, she looked up to him whispering, “You should probably get going, right?”

At her question, Iroh brought his hand back, a solemn look flashed across his face for a brief moment. Eyes closed, he let out a heavy sigh. Meeting her gaze once more, he replied, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I kept you for too long as well.”

Asami didn’t have anything to say about that, only cracking a half smile.

Lazily, Iroh rolled over to swivel out of her bed and grab his clothes.

When he was properly dressed, he turned around to face Asami who had propped herself up and watched him with an unreadable expression, the sheets pulled up to cover herself.

He leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Asami silently nodded, feeling his lips linger for a moment before pulling away.

That was new.

When he was gone, Asami fell back on the bed and rolled over to pull the pillow Iroh had been laying on closer to her. She inhaled deeply, wanting to hold onto any bit of him that stayed behind with her.

Remembering the way his lips felt on her, another level of intimacy they didn’t usually admit to each other, she closed her eyes.

Sleep didn’t come easy after that. It never did.

****

This, whatever this was, had become a routine of theirs.

When the two of them met months back, they felt that one of a kind spark. It was more than a primal attraction, but one of also admiration, respect, and intrigue.

However, with Iroh’s scattered schedule being abroad for weeks or months at a time and Asami’s status in the C-Suite, they both didn’t believe there was room to pursue that connection and build it into something with roots.

It would have been an impossible endeavor.

Right?

What they settled on was that whenever the two of them were in the city at the same time, they’d plan to spend the day out together, the night in either of their beds, and that would be that.

The good old fashioned no-strings attached dance and song.

Quick and to the point, yes, but every moment together they appreciated and lived to the fullest. Unfortunately, days can only last so long and when it was time for either of them to leave, there was an air of dread that hung over them.

Both Iroh and Asami refused to acknowledge it.

Recognition of that feeling only came in the form of dreaming about what they currently have, what they want, and what they wished the two of them could be.

In their own private space, of course.

Afraid of rejection. Afraid of more. So they took what they thought they could only get.

****

The dancing around of what was building between them could have only gone on for so long before a breaking point was reached.

One night as Iroh was getting ready to leave Asami’s place, he told her that he would be at sea for one of the longer stretches of time that he’s experienced in a while. A year? Maybe more?

Either way, he didn’t know the next time he’d see her again. Outside communications when he was on board was almost always a near impossible task, so that was no good. He figured it would be best if they ended this now and she moved on to someone better.

Taking in this information and hearing his proposal, Asami didn’t have a proper immediate response, only a slow and silent nod.

“Take care, Asami. Hope you have a good life.” His final words to her before the door closed behind him with a click.

When Iroh began to leave, Asami felt as though the breath had been sucked out of her while being pulled underwater, trying to comprehend his words.

Take care, Asami.

The click of the door snapped something in her and she came to herself with a new light ignited in her chest.

This cannot be it.

Hopping out of her bed like a shot, Asami threw her clothes on and ran after him.

****

Having run with all her might down the street to the boats in the naval yard, she stopped. Finding the recognizable stature in the distance, Asami took in a breath before yelling, “Iroh!”

Halfway up the ramp, he stopped. His name from that voice struck a certain chord in his heart he struggled to suppress. Luggage dropped carelessly, he slowly turned around. Eyes widened in surprise.

“Asami?”

Meeting her halfway, Iroh couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing there.

“Iroh, why were you telling me it’d be best if I move on? Let me decide that for myself. It felt like we just got started and I’ve finally found where I belong. When you left it hit that I don’t think I could find anyone better and I refuse to.”

“Asami-”

“Please, Iroh. Tell me I’m not the only one who’s been pulled in this deep.” Her eyes darted back and forth, searching for an answer in his.

Cupping her cheeks, Iroh pulled her in for a bruising kiss. Feeling his lips on hers, Asami melted, wrapping her arms around his middle. In his kiss she recognized there being a deeper level of affection the two hadn’t put words to just yet.

It was one she reciprocated.

Pulling away with the need to break for air, Iroh panted out, “Figured showing would have been just as effective.”

Flushed cheeks, Asami nibbled on her lower lip. With one hand overlaying his and the other still around his waist, she smiled blissfully. “Think your team will need another engineer onboard?”

“One more wouldn’t hurt. We’d appreciate the extra set of hands and someone like you.”

A wide grin on her face no longer feeling restrained, Asami eagerly pulled Iroh in.

—

Losing myself on the breath in between

The minute you stay and the second you leave

[north-blue-hearts]

Heart of Gold

CisFem Reader x Trafalgar Law

CW: ptsd, trauma, depictions/implications of suicide and suicidal ideation, language, violence, blood, canonical character death, mature themes and events 18+

Chapter 14: Travels

You stayed at your current island for a couple of days. The crew needed some shore leave for starters, and as long as the marines didn’t make a nuisance of themselves there was no rush. Someone stayed on the Tang with you – which was pretty standard for the crew. There were always a couple people available to move the submarine out of harm’s way if trouble caught up to them.

Law left with Shachi and Penguin at one point to tear the town’s library apart. Figuratively, he assured you. Sometimes knowledge had a way of hiding in small out of the way places like the islands he meant to visit, and there was a possibility that they could find something useful.

Whether that information was about his devil fruit, your ability, the seer’s prophecy, your current predicament, or even the One Piece, it was impossible to say.

There could also be nothing.

They returned with something, however, but it wasn’t something they could verify themselves.

You had shown Law some of the language that you’d translated for him before. The King’s tongue. By rights you were probably the only person who knew how to read it.

At the very least you might be the only person who knew how to read it that wasn’t a Celestial Dragon.

You flipped through it when Law handed it to you, skimming over some of the pages.

“It looks like a journal.” You state, paying closer attention to the page you’d randomly turned to. “It’s… kind of crude, but not impossible to read.”

“Crude?”

You tilt your head. “It feels like someone writing in a second or third language, and not their native tongue. It’s stilted in places, some particles are incorrect, but the concepts are complex, not childish. It’s not a child’s journal, and it feels too… motherly to be a teenager.”

You close the journal and smile. “I can read it in my spare time and see if there’s anything useful. I can imagine an anthropologist or archeologist would be interested in the contents, even if they don’t turn out to be directly useful to us.”

“It was a bust then?” Shachi moans.

“Mm, no, we don’t know yet.” You correct.

“Ah, sorry, Bell, it’s just… we were so excited to find that language.” Penguin explains. “And it’s a journal. That’s kind of boring to a pirate.”

“Robin-ya would be excited.” Law says, looking between the two.

“She doesn’t count, she’s an archeologist.” Shachi grumbles.

“She’s… one of the Straw Hats, yes?” You question, running over the list of your supposed allies. Law nods.

“Careful when you meet her,” Penguin rubs his arms. “She has, uh, a unique sense of humor.”

You smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else happen?” You ask, looking between the three of them.

Law shakes his head. “Scanning didn’t find anything. Admittedly, I’ve never really used it to scan an island, so I’m still making a lot of assumptions. I’m hoping we can find a book or two on geology on the next island, but everything here was basic.”

“On to further adventure then?” You question, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Tomorrow,” he admits. “There’s a small… er…” His sentence trails off and his frown deepens.

“Festival?” You prompt, letting a small sigh escape you. “Alas.”

“Once everything is sorted out, we’ll take you on a festival tour!” Penguin offers, Shachi joining in with him. They’re trying so hard to cheer you up, and it’s appreciated.

“We can start at the Grandline Metropolis,” Shachi adds. “There’s festivals in all the quads, and once we’ve seen more of them we can do an island tour.”

“That sounds very… post everything else.” You admit a little sheepishly, but manage to put on a truly bright smile. “But something to look forward too, certainly.”

A soft metallic bang is heard from below decks, a call to a meal, and you all head down to eat.

You give one last glance to the island, curiosity and frustration in equal measure, before descending to the mess hall with everyone else.

The meal went well, and a couple hours later you were in your room, beginning to read the journal while you enjoyed the setting sun, when there was a knock at your door. Setting the small tome aside you opened the door and weren’t entirely surprised to see Law standing there.

“Busy?” He questions, eyes flitting to the book by your bed.

You shake your head. “Barely started. What can I do for you?”

He’s silent for a beat before shaking his head a little. “The festival’s fireworks might be visible from the deck.” He looks away, the default frown on his face twitching a little. “I thought you might enjoy seeing them.”

You smile. “It’s worth a shot. Are fireworks… um… Well, actually, what are fireworks?”

Law offers his elbow, and you take it. There’s a devious grin on his face. “All those technological advancements of days gone by, and there weren’t any fireworks?”

You feel your face flush. “I, well, the word may be different, is all.” You stammer a little, suddenly far more aware of his warmth than usual.

“They’re effectively colorful bombs.” He says, describing them as you ascended from the lower decks. “Fired into the air and packed with flammable minerals and chemicals to produce colorful light shows in the night sky.”

“Huh.” You’re really beginning to hope there’s a clear view available from the ship. “I’ve… never heard of such a thing. Colorful, recreational, bombs.”

“Fireworks.” He offers.

“So you say.” You step out onto the deck as the last few rays of the day’s light disappear under the horizon. The moments after the sun set were always your favorite. The world slowed for a time – man and beast alike, and it was easier to breathe.

The moment just before dawn was often the same, but days were often more hectic for you than nights, and so there wasn’t the same sense of peace to be had.

Law goes to the far side of the deck, leaning against the railing, and so you do the same. The world is quiet, and comfortable. So are you, standing against the rail on the deck of the Polar Tang, watching the sky steadily darken with a man beside you who had no desire to unnecessarily fill the quiet with words.

“Captain.” You begin, and see the scowl deepen.

He scowls when you call him captain, and the realization of why hits you like a bolt. At first you thought it was because you were teasing him, or maybe the tone with which you said it rankled him. But then you called him Law, and he didn’t scowl.

(Y/N)-ya.

Bepo, Shachi, Penguin, Ikkaku, Jean Bart, Clione, Hakugan, Uni.

(Y/N).

Robin-ya.

You tilt your head, and Law looks over at you in mild confusion. You had started to say something to him before you’d gone quiet and now he was waiting for you to get on with it. But your initial question was gone from your mind and replaced by something new.

“Why do you call people that?” You question, and there’s complete confusion on his face. “The ending you put on names, but not all names. You don’t use it for your crew, so I can’t imagine it’s a term of endearment. You used to put it on the end of mine, but now you do not.

“But when you referenced Nico Robin, you called her Robin-ya.” You’re too lost in your own thoughts to notice the expression on Law’s face. “Is it a statement of distance then? Like the tonal difference between sir dependent upon -.” Your concentration is broken as you hear a whistling sound.

You instinctively turn to it, eyes wide, taking in everything you could, and are relieved by your observation haki to realize it must be the firework that Law had mentioned. The colors were beautiful, the first and second time that you saw them. The distant pop that followed was barely enough to make you flinch, but it was followed by another whistle.

The sound of the bombs being launched into the air.

“Oh.” You murmur quietly, eyes glued to the sky as more explosions of color filled the air. “It’s like… flowers of light.” You say softly.

You stay still and quiet for a long moment, watching the bursts of light in the sky, soft gasps and awe-filled laughter, barely breathing the sound out into the air. Law watched you quietly, a small smile on his face. A softness in his features that you didn’t see.

At least, not at first.

You turned toward him after a particularly colorful display, smile wide on your face, and caught the look on his face. Your delight shifts to surprise, and the fireworks are no longer important. His eyes go a little wide, and the color that darkens his face gives him away before he looks away.

There’s no way you slept for centuries to fall in love with a pirate.

You slept for centuries for some purpose decided by the seer. You slept for centuries because you hadn’t managed to die when you tried. You slept for centuries because fate deemed it thus.

You slept for centuries because you’d been caught.

Falling in love with a pirate, was simply something that had happened.

You move to him, standing in front of him, eyes on his hands for a brief moment. The colors of the fireworks tremble over him softly, the subtle different colors lost due to the distance, little more than a soft blur of pale light.

You reach out, running your index finger along his, twining your fingers into his as he reacts to your initial touch. You’ve never felt so warm in the cool night air like this before, and part of you wonders if the soft light against his shirt isn’t from your own face, and not the distant light display. He reaches out with his hand, mimicking your actions and you twine the fingers of your other hand with his.

Looking up you see the soft expression from earlier. A tender smile you mirror on your own face.

He puts your hands on his waist, putting one of his own arms around your waist. His other hand comes up along your neck, fingers brushing over your skin. The gentle hand cups your jaw and tilts your head up.

You could step back easily. There’s a soft rush of anticipation and embarrassment that almost moves your feet, but it would be against your will.

Your lips press together as your eyes meet his, head dizzy with hope. You’re trying not to look ahead with your haki, but your heart seems ready to burst out of your chest.

“Law.” You say his name softly. There’s no purpose for it, no question behind it. A correction, perhaps, for having called him captain earlier.

The soft smile is more defined, and the shape of your name dances along the lines of his lips as he closes the small distance between you both.

The sky was awash with colors, and you were partially aware of the volley of explosions behind you, but the fireworks were mostly forgotten. Another time, perhaps, and they would have more of your attention.

Right now, there was warmth against your lips, and hot hands against your skin. Relief in your heart, and a rush of pleasure through your chest. Later, there would be words, but for now there was nothing to be said.

For as busy as your lips were, there was little else for them to do.

[eldiatricc]

SCnKnA Boris Airay Event 9

Event List

Scene – Clover Tower – Alice’s Room

Alice "…It’s that time again. Another round of meetings."

The third assembly period. That troublesome time has returned once more.

Boris "If you sigh too much, your happiness will slip away, you know?"

Boris "Come on, just get changed for now. It might not lift your spirits, but… it couldn’t hurt, right?"

Alice "If anything, I think it’ll just make me more depressed."

Alice "…Well, no point complaining. I’ll go get changed."

Boris "Wow, Alice, you’re such a man—so decisive and cool. I’m falling for you all over again."

Pierce "Boris, you idiot! Alice isn’t a man—she’s a girl! She’s not cool, she’s cute!"

Boris "…You’re the idiot. I know she’s a girl, and I know she’s cute. You just don’t get metaphors, do you, dumb mouse…"

Pierce "I’m not dumb! I’m a smart mouse! I’m way smarter than any cat, especially you!!"

Boris "There’s no such thing as a smart mouse. All mice are dumb. You just happen to be the dumbest of them all."

Pierce "I—I’m not dumb!! I’m not dumb!! I’m a very smart, clever mouse!!"

Alice "…Anyway, I’m going to go change."

Later

Alice "…Okay, I’m changed."

Alice "…So, what exactly are you two doing?"

Pierce was sprawled out on the floor, while Boris stomped on him repeatedly.

Boris "Welcome back, Alice. What am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? I’m playing with the mouse."

Pierce "H-help me, Alice…! The cat… the kitty’s being mean…!!"

Alice "…Boris, get your foot off him."

Boris "Aww, but it was just getting to the good part…"

Alice "Just move it."

Alice "And Pierce, come on—boys don’t cry."

Alice "…Sigh."

Boris "…You look kinda drained, Alice. You sure you’re okay? You seemed exhausted just from changing."

(Who do you think is exhausting me…)

Alice "I’m fine. I’ll recover soon enough…"

Alice "But yeah, thinking about the meeting does make me tired. I wish we could have a more productive discussion for once…"

Boris "Not gonna happen. Not with that guy running the show."

Pierce "Nightmare’s trying his best! He really is trying to make the meetings meaningful!"

Pierce "Trying to make decisions… I hope."

Alice "…That sounds more like wishful thinking."

Boris "Don’t waste your time on that stupid mouse, Alice. If you catch his stupidity, that’d be a real problem."

Boris "Still, yeah, trying to keep that group in line must be rough. They’re all a bunch of weirdos with their own baggage."

Boris "And getting them all to focus on one topic? Practically impossible."

Alice "…You’ve got a point."

You could call them unique, or just say they’re a bunch of difficult personalities. Either way, managing them or getting them to concentrate on a single issue is an impossible task.

(Expecting Nightmare to pull that off is probably asking too much…)

Then again, even someone other than Nightmare probably couldn’t do it.

It’s only now that I’m realizing just how impressive that "no interference during the assembly" agreement really is.

The agreement is impressive—but the person who managed to establish it might be even more so.

Go to Event - Boris Card Game 3

Later

Scene – Clover Town – Shopping District

Man "Did you hear? Just a while ago, the lizard was dragging a Nightmare down the street."

Man "Really? I hadn’t heard."

Man "Apparently, they brought him back after he ran off. What a headache..."

Man "He probably didn’t want to attend the meeting. I mean, making him the chairman… it’s worrying in so many ways."

Man "None of us really want a Nightmare as the meeting’s chair, either…"

Woman "I feel like eating mushroom dishes. Is that okay?"

Man "Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll eat whatever."

Woman "Thanks, then let’s go with mushrooms. There’s a really good place nearby."

Woman "Oh, but the meeting at Clover Tower just ended, didn’t it? It might be crowded..."

Man "Let’s go check it out anyway. If it’s packed, we’ll just find somewhere else."

Woman "Right, good idea."

The meeting had ended, and I’d gone out into town.

I was supposed to spend time with Boris, but the twins stirred things up, and he got all worked up chasing after them.

As a result, I was left alone with nothing to do. So, I decided I might as well wander around by myself.

Later

I enjoyed a bit of window shopping. Just as I was about to call it a day, I ran into a familiar face.

Alice "…Pierce."

Pierce "Oh, Alice! Are you heading to the Tower now?"

Pierce "Me too! Want to go together?"

As soon as he saw me, Pierce brightly invited me along.

1. Go with him 2. I’ve got an errand to run… 3. Decline

1. Go with him

Alice "Sure. Let’s go together."

Pierce "Yeah, let’s go! Do you want to stop anywhere on the way?"

Pierce "I mean, being a little late is okay, right? Nightmare’s nice, he wouldn’t care."

Pierce "Ah, but the lizard assistant is kinda scary. If we’re late and he gets mad, maybe we should be on time after all."

Pierce "Instead, let’s hang out after the meeting!"

Alice "Hang out? Where?"

Pierce "Anywhere’s fine! There are tons of shops and plazas around the Tower—we can have fun anywhere."

Pierce "As long as there are no cats, I’m happy. Oh, but since a cat’s usually stuck to you, that might be a problem…?"

(“Stuck to me”…)

Alice "………"

Alice "…We’ll see. If it works out, I’ll come with you."

2. I’ve got an errand to run…

Alice "Sorry. I’ve got somewhere I need to stop by for work before heading to the Tower."

I planned to drop by the inn before returning—it's time to submit shift preferences.

Pierce "Really? You’re such a hard worker, even now."

Alice "It’s not like I’m working right away, though."

Pierce didn’t seem particularly upset. He just muttered, "Huh, okay."

Pierce "Well, I’ll head there first, then. See you at the Tower!"

Alice "Yeah, see you later."

3. Decline

Alice "…Sorry, I think I’ll pass. I want to wander a bit longer."

(If Boris saw us together, he’d definitely sulk…)

Feeling a bit guilty, I turned him down. Pierce immediately drooped.

Pierce "…So you don’t want to hang out with me? You don’t like me?"

Pierce "If even you don’t like me, I’m gonna be so sad…"

Alice "I didn’t say I didn’t like you. It’s not about you—it’s just that I’m not ready to head back yet."

Pierce "Really? So you don’t hate me? Then that’s fine! I’m just glad you don’t hate me!"

After I reassured him, he quickly perked up and walked away, cheerful again.

Alice (Good thing he’s so simple…)

Choices Converge

Scene Change – Sky

And so, after all that, I returned to the Tower and attended the meeting once more.

During the assembly period, it's just meetings and breaks over and over again. I still have work outside of this, but even then, I’m more than a little tired of it.

Boris and Pierce are probably even more fed up than I am.

Alice (I hope this ends soon…)

During the assembly period, conflict is forbidden. The peace is nice… but life in the forest wasn’t so bad either.

Alice (…Wait. When did I get so used to the forest…?)

Well, aside from the door stuck to that tree. That thing is creepy and downright unsettling.

But aside from that…

Alice (……I kind of want to go back to the forest soon…)

Scene Change – Clover Town – Restaurant Area

Boris "…I wish the meetings would just hurry up and end. Being tied down against my will seriously pisses me off. I mean it—I just want it to be over already."

Boris "…And it’s not just me, you know. What really bugs me is that you’re being dragged into this too. Only I should get to pull you around for my own convenience."

Alice "Yeah, well—hold on, I never gave you that kind of privilege, okay?"

During our free time, the two of us walked through town.

Boris had been talking nonstop for a while now, but I was only half-engaged in the conversation.

Boris "What? So, are you saying you’d let some other guy drag you around however he wants?"

Alice "That’s not what I mean. I’m saying that you dragging me around is also a probl—ah!"

Boris "OW! Hey, Alice! You’re stepping on it—you’re stepping on it!!"

Alice "What!? Wh-what!?"

Boris "My tail! You stepped right on my tail—it hurts! Ow, ow, ow!!"

Alice "!?" "Oh my gosh, I’m sorry!!"

I had been looking at Boris’s face while talking, and my feet got tangled. Sure enough, I’d stepped right on his tail—hard.

Boris "Why would you press down harder like that!? Are you sure it wasn’t on purpose!? That really, really hurt…"

Alice "Of course it wasn’t on purpose! I’m sorry, my feet just got tangled up!"

(I mean, walking in these shoes is hard…)

I hoped he could read the part I didn’t say aloud—but Boris gave no sign of catching on. He was too busy holding the tip of his tail and blowing on it.

Boris "So it wasn’t on purpose? Okay then… still, ouch. That pain made my fur stand on end—it’s been a while since something hurt that bad."

Alice (That bad, huh…)

Still, Boris didn’t blame me. He returned to his usual tone and kept walking as if nothing had happened.

Later

Boris "Suits really make your shoulders stiff, huh? I mean, they’re formal and tight—it’s to be expected. But even if you know that, stiff is stiff."

Alice "…Isn’t it the fur that’s making your shoulders stiff?"

Boris "No way! If that were true, I’d have permanent shoulder tension, wouldn’t I?"

Alice "Well… yeah, good point…"

I said something kind of silly.

I just couldn’t concentrate on the conversation. My mind kept wandering…

Boris "I don’t hate this outfit, but the downside is the color—it’s black."

Boris "It’s hot during the day, and at night I blend into the shadows. I don’t dislike black, but as a clothing color, it’s kind of... yeah."

Even though my replies were a bit lukewarm, Boris didn’t seem to care and just kept bouncing from topic to topic.

1. You usually wear black too 2. It suits your catlike nature 3. Pink is hard on the eyes

1. You usually wear black too

Alice "You usually wear black anyway."

Boris "Yeah, but the clothes I usually wear don’t make me blend into the darkness at night, right? So I don’t really mind wearing black in those cases."

Boris "What went wrong this time…? Maybe it was a mistake to go with black fur trim too… But if I went with pink, I’d probably get flak for it."

Alice "Yeah, I’d probably be the first to complain. A man in a black suit with pink fur trim? I wouldn’t want to walk next to you."

3. Pink is hard on the eyes

Alice "Black’s fine. Pink is way too harsh on the eyes."

Boris "So basically… you’re saying my usual outfit is painful to look at? No way you’d say something like that, right?"

Boris "…Why are you looking away, then?"

Alice "…Hmm, I wonder."

(He didn’t realize it was hard to look at…)

Choices Converge

Boris "Tch, seriously. You’ve never really complimented my clothes, have you?"

Alice "Can you blame me? There are more things wrong with them than worth praising."

Boris "Ehh~? Okay, maybe this suit isn’t great, but I don’t think my usual clothes have any issues…"

Alice "…Want me to list all the problems I see with them?"

Boris "…No thanks. I don’t need you insulting my casual clothes too. Ugh, I’m sick of this outfit—I wanna get out of this stuffy suit already."

Boris "Hey, Alice. Aren’t you getting tired of your clothes too?"

Boris "If you are, let’s wear something different. Like matching suits. You and me, all dressed up the same."

Boris "…Yeah, that would be dangerously cute. It’d look amazing on you. Adorable."

Alice (Huhhh!? W-what part of that sounds like a good idea!?)

2. It suits your catlike nature

Alice "I think it suits you. It’s very… catlike."

Boris "Really? If you say so, I guess the color’s fine after all."

Boris "And sometimes it’s nice to blend in instead of standing out all the time."

Alice "Exactly. You normally stand out like a sore thumb—maybe it’s good to be inconspicuous once in a while."

Boris "Stand out? That’s not a bad thing. Standing out is awesome."

Boris "Tch, seriously. You’ve never really complimented my clothes, have you?"

Alice "Can you blame me? There are more things wrong with them than worth praising."

Boris "Ehh~? Okay, maybe this suit isn’t great, but I don’t think my usual clothes have any issues…"

Alice "…Want me to list all the problems I see with them?"

Boris "…No thanks. I don’t need you insulting my casual clothes too. Ugh, I’m sick of this outfit—I wanna get out of this stuffy suit already."

Choices Converge

Boris "Hey, Alice. Aren’t you getting tired of your clothes too?"

Boris "If you are, let’s wear something different. Like matching suits. You and me, all dressed up the same."

Boris "…Yeah, that would be dangerously cute. It’d look amazing on you. Adorable."

Alice (Huhhh!? W-what part of that would look good!?)

Boris "I’m telling you, it’ll look great—I guarantee it. Come on, please?"

Alice "…Give me a break."

Alice "…………"

We continued walking as we talked.

Just a leisurely stroll with no destination in mind. We’d probably walked quite a bit by now.

Alice "…………"

Boris "～～～♪"

Alice "…………"

Boris "～～～～～～♪"

He seemed to be in a really good mood, humming a tune here and there.

Alice (…This won’t do. I should say it.)

Alice "…It’s hard to walk like this."

I finally spoke up. His reply was casual and breezy.

Boris "Yeah? Don’t worry, if you trip, I’ll catch you."

Alice "………… That’s not the point."

Boris was clearly enjoying himself. He had no intention of changing this setup.

Alice "…It’s making me walk slower."

Boris "Then just walk slowly."

And I really was moving slowly. That’s how I ended up stepping on his tail earlier.

I couldn’t help it—I had no choice but to slow down.

Even if I wanted to speed up, I couldn’t. I was going at less than half my usual pace.

Alice "You’re making it hard to walk."

Boris "! Hard to walk!?"

Boris’s cheerful expression faltered.

Boris "Come on, that’s a little harsh… I’m just trying to keep us from getting separated during our walk."

Boris "If you’re going for a stroll with a cat, you have to make sure you don’t lose them. Cats wander off easily, you know?"

Alice "Walking a cat, huh…"

Cats aren’t the kind of pets you need to take out for walks in the first place. It’s not that they get lost—they just wander off on their own.

They disappear somewhere and come back whenever they feel like it. That’s what cats do.

Alice "A cat isn’t a dog. You don’t need to put it on a leash and walk it. So there’s no reason for you to be this clingy."

Boris "Yeah, I’m not a dog, so I don’t need a leash. But since cats do tend to wander off, I need you to keep me close."

Boris "Since I don’t wear a leash, I’m the one keeping you close."

Alice "Keeping me close is one thing…"

Alice "Holding hands would be fine, but this is…"

Too much.

He had his arm around my shoulders, making it incredibly difficult to walk.

Boris "More than holding hands—it looks even closer, don’t you think? Like we’re really close. Totally gives off that vibe."

Alice "Yeah… we really do look like a couple."

Boris "Exactly! We are a couple, so it’s fine."

Boris "Anyone who sees us would know right away—we look like a close couple. I’m not doing it just for show, though."

Boris "I’m not showing off, but… this kind of thing is nice. It’s obvious to anyone that we’re lovers."

Alice "Yeah. Obvious… painfully obvious."

Obvious lovers. A couple still in their early days.

If this were marriage, it’d be the honeymoon phase.

We’re radiating sugary sweetness so strongly, you could practically see it in the air.

Alice (S-So sweet… Too sweet…)

I don’t know what to do. Not that I have to do anything—but it’s all so ticklish and overwhelming.

Boris "It’s nice, walking together like this. I like taking walks with you. It’s fun."

Alice "Y-Yeah…"

We’re just walking, and yet Boris seems totally giddy.

Boris "Huh? Alice, aren’t you having fun? Isn’t it fun being with me?"

Alice "Eh… No, I am having fun. But still…"

Alice "Being this clingy is kind of… embarrassing, I guess…"

My voice trailed off, flustered.

Boris "Clingy…? Am I really that clingy?"

Alice "You are. You’re way too clingy."

Boris "Really…?"

Alice "Yes, really."

(I wasn’t this clingy with the person I dated before…)

Granted, I only have one person to compare to, but still—this didn’t happen with my previous partner.

He was an adult man—calm, gentle, and composed.

We never did things like this. Never so clingy and obviously “couple-like.”

Alice "Yes, you’re too clingy. It’s like… so over-the-top, it’s annoying."

Boris "Annoying!?"

Alice "I mean, to people watching us. They probably think we’re a couple of idiots. Like ‘Ugh, look at those two…’"

Clinging to each other to the point that it interferes with walking—we look like a textbook example of a dumb couple.

Those kinds of couples are embarrassing to even look at. I never thought I’d become one of them.

That never happened with my previous partner. We never did anything so flashy or ridiculous out in public.

He was always cool, always composed. So much so that I sometimes wondered if he really liked me.

We never did anything foolish.

Boris "Who cares how other people see us?"

Alice "…I care. Even if we’re dating, I didn’t think we’d be walking around like this, all glued together."

Boris "…Tch. Who are you comparing me to?"

Alice "Huh…?"

Boris "You’re comparing me to someone, aren’t you? That guy you dated before?"

Bullseye. He was right—I was thinking of the guy I dated before.

Boris "I’m not him. That’s why I cling to you. I like you, I want to be close. I want to be clingy. Just deal with the awkward walking, okay?"

Alice "…………"

So obvious. Jealousy—clear as day.

It felt childish, like something out of a pretend relationship. Not even trying to hide it.

He didn’t care who saw us or what they thought. Completely free-spirited. It was embarrassing. Ridiculous.

…No one had ever been foolish like this with me before. I’ve never felt this ticklish inside before.

Alice (Ah… I see. He really does like me.)

He likes me. It’s clear to anyone—he’s showing it so openly.

Like an animal showing affection—no need to hide it. No concern for others, just focused on what’s right in front of him.

Boris likes me.

Alice (…He loves me wholeheartedly.)

I’m the one being loved. But in my previous relationship, it was the opposite.

I was the one hopelessly in love. I loved so much, I couldn’t see anything else.

Alice (That feeling…)

That same feeling I had back then—does Boris feel that way about me now?

Does he love me just as deeply as I once loved… him?

Boris "Hey, Alice… Do you still love that guy? Do you want me to act like him—keep my distance when we walk?"

Alice "…………"

Alice "…No."

He never even held my hand in public. Not once did he ever put his arm around my shoulder like this.

But I wanted to hold him. I couldn’t see anything else—I only had eyes for him.

I think I was foolish. But still… that feeling I had back then—

If Boris is giving that same kind of feeling to me now...

Alice "It’s embarrassing… but it’s fun… so, it’s okay."

I squeezed up against him, closing the distance on my own.

Back then, I was always anxious. I never felt truly fulfilled—because I was the only one in love.

Alice "It’s really… super embarrassing, though."

Boris "Heh. I’m not embarrassed. I’m enjoying this."

Boris "Going out with someone you like—it’s fun."

Alice "…You’re such an embarrassing cat, Boris."

I don’t want Boris to feel like I did. I don’t want him to ever feel unsure or unloved.

Boris "I’m not an embarrassing cat. I just like you, that’s all."

Boris "I like you, so of course I want to be close to you. You don’t have to be a cat for that to be normal, right?"

He gave me a wide, toothy smile.

His outfit today might be more muted in color, but his head is still pink. From the first time I met him, he’s always been all pink—that ridiculous pink cat.

Now, it feels like even my mind is turning pink under his influence.

Go to Home Event – Pierce 3 End Event

[jodilin65]

I don’t have as much energy as yesterday but it could be worse. Emotionally I’m kind of in the middle. I still often feel like I have no motivation, no hope, and like I’m basically a shell of my old self.

If only I could wake up eager to begin a new story idea with my old ambition. If only I had a crush on someone to give me those fun story ideas. If only I had a calm, confident sense of security for the future ahead. If only I knew what the future held so I knew what to expect. If it was to be better than expected, I could breathe a sigh of relief and if it wasn’t, I could at least relax until the shit really hit the fan.

While I still have an iPhone, I should make a point of verbally purging my thoughts on Twitter. It’s so therapeutic, not that writing isn’t. Musk taking over really fucked things up. They probably would have expanded voice tweeting to Android and maybe even went forward with Twitter Notes like they were supposed to had he not taken over.

Anyway, I’m almost worried about money as much as my health. Yes, we have a guaranteed income but sometimes that’s just not enough. I have four years before I can collect and add to our income and while we’re both doing little odds and ends on the side, it’s not enough for big things. We have no cushion for if something big breaks that costs many hundreds or possibly even thousands of dollars. If only I hadn’t needed surgery and had so many fucking health issues! That wouldn’t have stopped the AC from breaking but it would have helped.

They’re slowly implementing changes to eliminate cheaters when it comes to horserace betting. It was close before with his program so we’re hoping this will push it over the edge, and even if it never makes us rich, hopefully it could at least give us a little extra. We won’t know for a few months because there aren’t many races in the winter.

It sucks to know that if he needed a full-time job, although we can’t imagine things ever getting that bad, it would probably be very hard for him to do, and not just because of his age. People are noticing his tremors and hearing issues more and more. Technically, it would be discrimination to not hire someone because of that but it’s damn near impossible to prove. It’s just sad to see him get older and to know that this is likely to get worse. Despite the essential tremor and being a lot heavier, he’s healthier than me in general so that’s good.

Ray was a good boy today but that’s mostly because he was out for most of the day. Although Tom did say he was home when the groceries came and he didn’t hear anything.

He got back about 20 minutes ago so we’ll see if I hear the TV. It didn’t stop till about 10:00 last night which was actually a little earlier than I guessed it would. There are always many ambient sounds around us and as Tom read, an empty classroom typically registers at 33 decibels. So if any of those subtle, barely audible sounds I’m hearing right now are from him, I can’t tell. I think he’s quiet, though. Even if he stayed this way, we both agree it would be good to add the soundproofing.

I’m relaxing in bed now. This is the way I typically do my journal entries these days. I do it in Google Docs where I can swear all I want without speech to text starring them out and then I edit and publish from my computer.

Tom put up the largest piece of the mass-loaded vinyl which is between the two windows. We also decided I would move the desk out of the closet and into the bedroom. I’ll put one of the extra nightstands in the closet instead. With me not working in the closet, it will make room for extra storage bins, since I won’t have to leave room to get to the back of it. Just enough for her to run around and climb on things. She loves to climb alright.

I was analyzing my stats and trying to get a sense of what blog readers are actually reading, and who’s just skimming or perhaps wandered in through a search keyword. If I’m understanding things correctly - and I realize I may not and that the stats may not be an accurate reflection of people’s activity - it seems most of my regulars just skim. I don’t know if they’re just looking for the gist of what I’m saying or perhaps a mention of themselves, but I get it. I’m a skimmer too. Besides, many people can absorb an entire paragraph at once and understand what’s being said, and if you know the person and what their typical topics are, you can get an even better sense.

Started reading Theo Baxter’s It’s Your Turn Now and I really like it. I like his brother’s books as well.

[byunbaekhyunie]

Hey! May I ask, as a non-gif maker, what exactly is the problem with the coloring? What is good/bad lighting? How do you correct it?

I see a lot of creators mention coloring, so I’d like to learn more❣️

of course ! this can get quite convoluted so i’ll try to keep things as simple as i can but, it did get quite lenghty so i put it under the squiggle

coloring, which is just shorthand for color correcting/grading, is the process of altering the colors of whatever source material you’re working with in post ; I’d say it accounts for maybe.. 50 to 75% of the final visual impact of the gif so it’s quite an important step but it’s an art more than a science so every cc color corrects in their own way and because of that, there are no definitive answers to your questions because there is no right or wrong way to grade or even light a scene (unless you’re perpetrating racial discrimination lol), it just depends on what end result you’re trying to achieve ! but i will offer my personal perspective and hope it's helpful to you ^^

so what is good and bad lighting... yk i wish i could say smth simple like "i like natural lighting better than studio lights" but thing is, sometimes you have the potential for great lighting but because the camera settings weren't properly adjusted, you get mad overexposure or super high contrast or whatever it is, the two are codependent so really my answer would be that i like when the footage i'm using was shot in log with little to no alteration because no matter what the lighting was, i should have enough data to get me where i want to be. but that's hardly ever the case, and that's what makes color grading often a lot harder for gif makers, is that we have to work on top of however many layers of destructive alterations the footage went thru before getting to us

that being said, i hate a color cast they’re a pain to correct properly. which brings us to our current case in point, the cursed 230714 mubank stage. this is a raw screengrab from the file after encoding

as you can see it's VERY pink, the color balance is all wrong, if you look at the robe you can tell the blacks are way too red and the highlights in his face are unnaturally pinkish, and yes that stems from the fact that they were using red and white overhead lights for this stage but also, i think i can safely say it probably got exasperated in post, on top of the skin smoothing filters they use but that's a whole other can of worms x_x it's also a lot of contrast to start with and it's slightly overexposed

btw i should say that i like well lit neutral tones, i don't like when things are too warm, too cool, too saturated, too contrasty or too dark, ideally i want my gifs to look as if you were watching the thing irl with your own two eyes, that's what i'm aiming for when coloring. again, to someone who doesn't mind smth a bit more stylized, this probably wouldn't be a big deal but to me, that's bad lighting and bad postprod

so how do you go abt fixing it? well, beats me ! i've tried a few different things and it's nearly impossible to readjust the balance to restore the flesh tones to smth more natural.. here's the first coloring i did, in split so you can compare better

i don't like it because it's too bright still, colors are way too saturated, there's too much cyan to counteract the pinks and his skin looks too yellow to my liking

and there's coloring two

i like the overall balance a lot more in this one but the highlights are still way too yellow but i can't neutralize them without having the whole thing turn blue i was working on a third attempt but ps crashed and i don't feel like troubleshooting anymore ><

i hope that was instructive in any way ! sometimes i feel like i'm a bit scattered and idk if i'm making much sense but don't hesitate if you need me to clarify anything !

[topazy]

In the shadows

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Warnings: Swearing, minor violence

Chapter: 1.11

Stiles shakes his head, unimpressed, as you both watch Scott turn his bedroom upside down while searching for his phone. Seeing Scott become so wound up scared you, mainly because it could trigger him into turning.

“Call it again!”

“Scott, I've called it three times in the last five minutes, and it’s not here. You’ll just need to get a new one.”

“I can’t afford a new one,” he says while wriggling out from under his bed. “And I can’t do this alone. We need to find Derek.”

“Well, A, you’re not alone. You have me and Mori,” Stiles points out. “And B, didn’t you say Derek walked into gunfire? He sounds pretty dead.”

You had to stifle a laugh at the expression on Stiles' face. He was the only person you knew who could be blunt and funny at the same time. You sigh. “I don’t want to sound cynical, but I think Stilinski is right. Werewolf or not, the chances of Derek surviving that are slim.”

“Argent's plan was to use him to get the alpha. They're not going to kill him.”

“All right, so then just let them do what they’re planning, you know? They use Derek to get Peter, problem solved.”

“Not if Peter’s going after Allison to find Derek!” Scott snaps while looking through the same drawers for the fourth time. “I can’t protect her on my own. Which means we need to find Derek first. Just one of you help me!”

Stiles raises his eyebrows at you before turning the computer chair he’s sitting in to face Scott. “You know, you probably lost it when you two were fighting. You remember when he was trying to kill you? After you interrupted him trying to kill Jackson, Are you starting to see a pattern of violent behavior here? He also put Mori’s ex-boyfriend in the hospital; everybody seems to forget about that.”

“He was going to kill anyone, and I’m not letting him die.”

Stiles looks at him in disbelief and asks, “Could you at least think about letting him die? For me?”

You swing your leg off Scott’s bed and kick Stiles in the knee and mouth ‘seriously’ at him.

He shoves your foot off him, “what? I can’t be the only one who remembers all the horrible shit Derek’s done.”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Milo kinda had it coming... so did Jackson to be fair.”

Scott suddenly jumps back from the boxes he was rummaging through and says, “My mom just got home from work.”

You watch as his face falls and he asks, “Is she okay?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “She’s crying in her car.”

He sits down on the bed beside you, and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Scott, you can’t look after everyone all the time. It’s impossible.”

You hoped more than anything that Scott would cut himself some slack before he drove himself crazy.

—

“Please!”

Stiles gives you a stern look while closing his locker door and says, “No.”

“Come on, don’t make me beg.”

He huffs, “I thought you liked Lydia and Allison.”

“I do; I just hate shopping.” You lean your head back against the wall, putting on your most defeated look. “I need you there. Lydia has already said she wants to give me a makeover. What if I give into peer pressure and end up looking like an idiot?”

He laughs and says, “By idiot, you mean female, right?”

You hit his chest playfully and said, “Fine, I’ll beg.” In truth, you’d grown to be quite fond of Lydia, but Allison made you nervous, and you struggled to fit in with their conversation at times and often felt like the odd one out. “I don’t want to be alone with Allison because I’m worried I'm going to put my foot in it and say something about Scott that I shouldn't. I know how much she means to him; I just, I’ll say something weird like…”

“My bestie is a werewolf?”

“I’m being serious,” you frown.

“I know,” he says softly. “Tell you what, I’ll meet you in the mall if you try on at least one horrible frilly puffy dress.”

You roll your eyes just as the bell for class goes: “I’ll see you after school. Don’t be late.”

—

As you step onto the escalator going up to the floor of the department Lydia kept raving about, you notice Allison is very quiet. “Is everything okay, Allison?”

“There's nothing wrong; I just have a lot on my mind.”

“You could smile at least,” Lydia jests. “Ever heard of the saying, Never frown? Someone could be falling in love with your smile?”

It was nice seeing them on better terms; Allison had forgiven Lydia for making out with Scott. It probably helped that Lydia bought her friend a prom dress as an apology. You zone out of their conversation as your eyes scan the horrible patterned clothes hanging on the mannequins; you only pay attention when you reach the top floor and Allison says, “Oh, don’t frown, Lydia. Someone could be falling in love with your smile.”

“Sorry, what’s going on?” You ask confused.

“I was just letting Lydia know who her new date to the prom is,” Allison says, amused.

You follow her line of thought and feel instant jealousy when you realize who she’s talking about. Stiles. He was standing at the perfume counter sniffing different bottles and said, “Actually, that’s my date. So Lydia will need to find someone else.”

The redhead smirks, linking her arm with yours. “Looks like I don’t need to cancel my dumb, roided-up jock after all.”

—

You hold multiple dresses up in front of a long mirror, all of them black and similar in style. You feel crazy for not being able to make a simple decision alone and just pick a damn dress. Allison left to get her car, which was about to be towed, and Lydia was dragging Stiles around the store like her caddie while she tried on multiple outfits. Sighing, you hang all but two on a rack and hold two dresses side by side. Why did it all of a sudden matter so much how you looked? You never cared before. Unless... was it possible you wanted to look nice to impress—

“You should really try something in a lighter shade.”

You look over your shoulder and feel your chest tighten as you struggle to find any words to say as Peter Hale walks closer to you. The alpha. Your voice is weak as you back away from him, “Scott…”

Peter chuckles, “Scott might be your savior on many things, but fashion isn’t one of them. The best way to get your little friend's attention is by wowing him, and you aren’t going to do that by wearing the same old thing, are you?”

You remain speechless as Peter holds up a light yellow dress next to you and says, “Hmm.” He places the dress back down, then holds up another and nods, “sea green is most definitely your color.”

Before you have a chance to reply, someone grabs hold of your wrist and drags you away. You blink a few times before realizing who it is. “Scott!”

He lets go when people start to stare, most likely because you raised your voice. He ignores them, “are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine, Scott.”

“What the hell did he want?”

“To give me fashion advice.”

Frustrated, Scott runs his hands through his hair, looking lost in his own thoughts. “First he played with my mom, then Allison, and now you.”

“I’m fine, and so are your mom and Allison,” you reassure him. “Allison’s whole family is a werewolf hunter; she's probably the safest out of all of us.”

“I just want to protect the people I love,” he stutters.

“I know,” you place your hand on his back, motioning for him to turn around. “You can start by saving Stiles from shopping.”

He lets out a quiet laugh when his eyes land on Stiles, who was struggling to hold a pile of clothes that had been placed in his arms. “Yeah, we better help him.”

—

Nervously, you walk back into the school’s gymnasium, where the dance was being held. Despite nothing going wrong so far, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad would happen. You look up at the bleachers when an empty cup hits the back of your head. Spotting Scott, who was trying his best to blend in, and going to sit beside him.

“You do know the whole point of blending into a school dance you’ve been attending is to blend in,” you laugh. “Throwing things at people is probably not the way forward.”

He struggles to keep a straight face as he apologizes, “Sorry.”

“You're forgiven,” you roll your eyes playfully, “have you seen Stiles?”

He points out Stiles, who was in the crowd of students, he was dancing with Lydia. Your smile drops. You didn’t think seeing him dance with her would cause any emotions to stir inside you, but it did. There was no denying the redhead was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen and was incredibly smart. It was no surprise to see his beaming face.

“When you went to the bathroom, Lydia asked him if he knew where you got your necklace from; he just smiled and said it was a gift. Stiles doesn’t know you know, does he?”

You shake your head. Years ago, you’d lost a necklace you'd been given by a family member for your birthday and were distraught. You didn’t care that your parents would be mad; it mattered because it was sentimental. You spent days looking for it, and then one morning at school, Stiles gave you back your lost necklace. He says he found it on the lacrosse field, which was almost easy to believe except that the one you lost was silver and the one he gave you back was gold, but you never questioned it and thanked him. A few days later, Mr. Stilinski accidentally let slip that Stiles had sold some of his old computer games, and you realized how he’d gotten you the necklace. “No, I never told him.”

Stiles always went out of his way to be kind to others, and he looked so happy when he gave you something. You suspected that telling him you knew it wasn’t the same one you lost would only disappoint him. It was strange thinking about it now—all that fuss over a moon-shaped necklace. Maybe your life was foreshadowing what was to happen in your future?

Scott elbows you lightly in the side and says, “Stiles' crush on her is only superficial.”

“God, there's nothing I'm hiding from you, is there?” You ask lightheartedly.

You smooth the fabric of your dress down. You decided to buy something that you usually wouldn’t wear and got a light pink satin dress that stopped just above your knees. Your mom curled your hair and pinned it up for you before adding the smallest amount of makeup. At first, you kind of liked it, but now you feel silly.

“You look bea--oh crap!”

You notice his fixation on one spot and look down from the bleachers to see coach angrily wagging his finger at him, “McCall! I see you! Come here, buddy.”

Scott runs away from the stairs and tries to lose coach in between all the couples dancing. It was hard not to laugh watching the scene unfold as Coach struggled to catch up with him, shoving other students out of the way.

“McCall! It’s a small gym; I’m going to find you. I got you, McCall!”

Scott disappears behind decorative curtains, then comes out and pulls Danny up with him to dance. He puts his arms around Danny’s neck just as coach catches him. “McCall! You’re not supposed to... What the hell are you? What the hell are you doing?”

The music is paused, and the dance goes completely silent as the coach backtracks his words.

Scott pulls Danny in closer. “Yes, coach?”

“Okay,” Coach chuckles nervously, “hold on, you... I was just saying he’s not supposed to... I mean, I wasn’t saying that he shouldn’t... you guys don’t think... you don’t... I… I was just…dance everyone, just dance.”

When the music is turned back on, Danny is left dumbfounded when Scott rushes off, the coach goes to yell at Greenberg, and Danny’s date stares at him unimpressed after watching him dance with another guy.

“Mori! Mori!” You look down from the spot you’re sitting to see Stiles waving for you to come down, and sighing, you make your way to him. “I was looking for you; did you see what Scott just did?”

“Yeah, he really pulled a number on coach.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

He gives you a skeptical look, but you force a smile that seems to please him. He offers you his hand and says, “May I have this dance, ma'am?”

You accept his offer for a dance. “You may.”

—

You rest your arms comfortably on Stiles' shoulder as you slow dance together. You've lost track of how long you’ve been dancing for, but this was the part of the night where couples would start to make out or declare their undying love for one another, and you couldn’t help but think Stiles would rather be dancing with someone else instead.

“Okay,” Stiles suddenly pulls back from your embrace, but he keeps his hands on your arm and waist. “You're stiff as a board. Does this have something to do with what happened in the mall?”

You shrug. “Honestly, I’m not used to being all dressed up, and I feel stupid.”

“Well, you don’t look stupid; you look breathtaking.”

You try to laugh off his comment, “You’re my best friend, of course you're going to say that.”

“I’m saying it because it’s the truth, Mori. You look the same to me now as you do wearing those old oversized outfits with paint covering your hair and face,” he says, looking down at the ground to avoid your gaze. “You could wear a garbage bag and still be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

You look at him shocked; you weren’t expecting a compliment like that. Stiles lifts his head, and his light brown eyes gaze into your own. Your faces slowly move closer—

“Have either of you seen Jackson?”

You practically leap apart. Stiles rubs at his jaw, his eyes freakishly wide, and says, “No, I haven’t seen him for a while. Didn’t he come with Allison? Maybe she’s with him.”

Turning your head to look around the room, you spot Allison. “She’s dancing with Scott.”

Lydia looks slightly shaken. “I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Maybe he just went to the bathroom,” Stiles suggests.

“For over an hour.”

As much as you hated Jackson, you couldn’t deny it was worrying with the knowledge of the killer alpha on the loose.

“We can help you look,” you offer.

“Okay, I’m going to check outside," Lydia says before quickly walking away. “Call me if you find him.”

You look back at Stiles and say, “I’ll go with her so she’s not alone, Lydia, wait!”

“I’ll check the hallways!” He calls after you.

—

“Why would Jackson be out here?” You ask, wrapping your arms around your bare shoulders. Lydia had led you to the lacrosse field, which was empty except for the two of you.

“He comes out here to think.”

You refrain from making a sarcastic comment. Suddenly the lights surrounding the lacrosse field come on one by one. Getting a bad feeling, you grab Lydia’s hand and say, “We should go.”

“Jackson?”

“Jackson’s not out here. It's probably just some creep messing with us; let’s go.” You try to pull her with you, but she lets go of your hand and starts to walk towards a figure coming out of the shadows. It takes your sight a moment to adjust to the bright lights, but when it does, you scream, “Lydia, run!”

Paralyzed with fear, Lydia remains in the same place as Peter starts to change out of his human form. Before you have a chance to get to her, Lydia’s body hits the ground. “No!” You run and kneel beside her, feeling for a pulse. “Why did you do that? She's never done anything to you!”

Peter lets out a sinister laugh. “I know, but I couldn’t let her wonder off now, could I? Not when I finally have what I need.”

Seeing his eyes glowing red, your body tenses. “What is it you need?”

“You're not dense, Mori; figure it out.”

You stop the tears from spilling from your eyes as you struggle to think of what he needs. Your heart sinks when you see another person coming onto the field. Stiles. You whisper, “Please don’t hurt him.”

“Funny, I’m counting on him to say the same thing.”

It finally made sense to you. Peter has always been observing all of you. His kills weren’t random but calculated. He has noticed the small details no one else did: your group's relationships and how you treat each other. That's why it wasn't hard for him to realize how important you were to Stiles and Scott or how easy it would be for him to use you against them.

That last thing you see before everything goes black is Peter's large, bloodied fangs coming towards you.

[goodnightmemes]

just some great Doctor Who quotes

❛ Let me be brave. ❜

❛ I don’t want to go. ❜

❛ Together or not at all. ❜

❛ How about that? I win. ❜

❛ Laugh hard, run fast, be kind. ❜

❛ To save you, I can do anything. ❜

❛ Look how far I went for fear of losing you. ❜

❛ Whole worlds pivot on acts of imagination. ❜

❛ Nothing’s sad till it’s over, then everything is. ❜

❛ Everybody lives. Just this once. Everybody lives. ❜

❛ Never trust a hug. It’s just a way to hide your face. ❜

❛ Have a good life. Do that for me. Have a fantastic life. ❜

❛ Stories are where memories go when they’re forgotten. ❜

❛ I’ll be keeping you safe. One last victory. Allow me that. ❜

❛ Who I am is where I stand. Where I stand is where I fall. ❜

❛ We’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh? ❜

❛ I’d forgotten not all victories are about saving the universe. ❜

❛ All that pain and misery and loneliness, and it just made it kind. ❜

❛ Does it ever bother you that your life doesn’t make any sense? ❜

❛ I made my choice a long time ago, and I’m never gonna leave you. ❜

❛ No, I mean it. I would rather die. It’s better to die than to live like you. ❜

❛ What happened to you? When did killing someone become an option? ❜

❛ The only way anyone can live in peace is if they're prepared to forgive. ❜

❛ Don’t play games with me. Don’t ever, ever, think you’re capable of that. ❜

❛ You were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And do you know what? So was I! ❜

❛ Never be cruel and never be cowardly, and if you are, always make amends. ❜

❛ Everything’s got to end sometime. Otherwise, nothing would ever get started. ❜

❛ Oh, look, I’m angry. That’s new. I’m really not sure what’s going to happen now. ❜

❛ Good men don’t need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many. ❜

❛ Do you think I care for you so little that betraying me would make any difference? ❜

❛ Sometimes, the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose. ❜

❛ Is there a word for ‘total screaming genius’ that sounds modest and just a tiny bit sexy? ❜

❛ You're stone cold brilliant, you are, I swear, you really are. But you could be so much more. ❜

❛ Just because my pretty face has turned your head, do not assume that I am so easily distracted. ❜

❛ Some people live more in 20 years than others do in 80. It’s not the time that matters. It’s the person. ❜

❛ It doesn't matter if there's nothing under the bed, or in the dark, so long as you know it's ok to be afraid of it. ❜

❛ If you're very wise and very strong, fear doesn't have to make you cruel or cowardly. Fear can make you kind. ❜

❛ Shut up! I can't let you die, without knowing you are loved. By so many, and so much. And by no one more than me. ❜

❛ If it's time to go, remember what you're leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me. ❜

❛ Letting it get to you. You know what that’s called? Being alive. Best thing there is. Being alive right now is all that counts. ❜

❛ Come on! Look at me. No plan, no back up, no weapons worth a damn. Oh, and something else. I don’t have anything to lose! ❜

❛ Okay, this is bad. At the moment I don’t know how bad, but certainly we’re three buses, a long walk, and eight quid in a taxi from good. ❜

❛ You asked me if you were a good man. And the answer is… I don’t know. But I think you try to be. And I think that’s probably the point. ❜

❛ Love, in all its forms, is the most powerful weapon we have. Because love is a form of hope. And like hope, love abides. In the face of everything ❜

❛ The universe is big. It’s vast and complicated and ridiculous. And sometimes, very rarely, impossible things just happen and we call them miracles. ❜

❛ You're all the same, you screaming kids, you know that? "Look at me, I'm unforgivable." Well here's the unforeseeable, I forgive you. After all you've done. I forgive you. ❜

❛ The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things or make them unimportant. ❜

❛ Because every time you see them happy you remember how sad they’re going to be. And it breaks your heart. Because what’s the point in them being happy if they’re going to be sad later? The answer is, of course, because they are going to be sad later. ❜

[chocosvt]

love café

⚬ pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 17.6K ⚬ warnings: some vulgar language, i guess! ⚬ genres: big time nsfw, dirty talk, lap dances, quickies, bath shenanigans, exhibitionism, overstim - you get what i mean. big ole romance, angst, fluff, jeonghan is very rich and very hot, joshua has a not so subtle crush on you. 

✧✎ synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not. 

✧✎ a/n: YES, ANOTHER REWRITE. the original love café was just so unsalvageable that i almost fully wiped its plot, minus the actual concept of the café. so, this should read as fairly new! I HOPE U ENJOY IT !!

It’s not that you were desperate. Because you weren’t.

You were actually more than desperate at this point, and no longer could you sit on that uneven couch with the broken leg, staring at the chipped paint, listening to your neighbours’ screams, believing you should continue like this. More than anything, you were shortchanging yourself. There was no point in holding onto that little string of hope in which those employers might phone you back. It would be impossible to contact your family when you had affirmatively cut ties with them ages ago. And, it was becoming increasingly foolish to ignore your one saving grace, just a street over from your rundown complex.

But, could you really commit to it? Would anyone even be able to look at you and think you were someone desirable enough to reward?

Those thoughts often hung over you like a dark cloud, and poured down so heavily that you were metaphorically drenched, in your own pessimism. However, on that day, you were beyond patience with the cards you’d been dealt. Such a despairing apartment, with all its bugs and drafts and horrible neighbours, could not be your brightest and most fortunate future. There had to be something you could do.

Even if it meant going to the Love Café.

In other words, an easy gig to financial heaven, in exchange for sexual pleasures of course. You walked into your bedroom and sat down in front of the wooden vanity, clicking on a dim, flickering bulb to help illuminate your face as well as its lifeless expression which stared back at you. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to pat your skin with some emptying makeup and thinning pans of eyeshadow. Then, you fixed up your hair and chose a simple, mute-coloured dress from your closet, immediately swallowed by the large winter coat you cozied into.

You hurried quickly down the corridor, ignoring the muffled shouts from your argumentative neighbours bleeding through the nickel-thin walls, past the barking dog which jumped against the door, scratching its nails whenever you waited for the elevator, and you didn’t even spare one glance at the very strange man who always hovered in the central lobby and watched you ignore his coos every single day. By the time you arrived outside the Love Café, you were breathing like a marathon runner. Despite the cold weather, you felt a sweat run like a breeze down your temple as you wiped your face before heading inside.

The space felt warm. Everything was red, pink, or white. And when you inhaled, the air smelled like a note of rose petals and candy. It was surprisingly easy to sign up for a ‘Love Card’ at the front desk.

“This card has twelve punches per service with your partner. If, by the end of the twelfth punch, you’re not looking to pursue something serious with this individual, you can pay for another Love Card. If you do manage to find, ‘the one’, then congratulations, and well wishes. Since you’re a first-time client, you get twenty-five percent off your first card.”

Whoever the lady was, she seemed less than enthusiastic as she pushed a cherry-red paper across the counter with a finely manicured nail. You thought she must have given this spiel so many times, the script probably haunted her in her sleep. Nonetheless, you thanked her, and heeded her direction when she advised you to choose any of the free tables, marked with a pale rose. For some reason, you picked the very last table amongst the row and slid yourself onto the uncomfortable, white chair, the metal back moulded into the shape of a heart.

Whoever reserved the table wasn’t exactly punctual. About half an hour after being seated, ordering yourself a tea, and examining the different clients who filtered in and out the café, you were beginning to assume the worst. That they cancelled. Flaked. Decided to pull from the service and direct their affluence elsewhere. As you titled the last few droplets of tea around the base of the cup, feeling utterly depressed and bored, you heard the little bells clink above the door, followed by a gasp from the employee at the front desk. Considering her microscopic range of emotion, you figured whoever entered must be some flawless rarity.

“Jeonghan!” She fixed her slouched position. “I wasn’t aware you made a reservation today. I haven’t seen your name in the system.”

“No worries. I set an anonymous appointment the night before. After all the chaos I caused last time, I figured it’s best to stay under the radar. I know I’m late. I was finishing up a term paper.”

“That’s quite all right. Here, I’ll just quickly renew your information. One moment… Okay, Yoon Jeonghan, you’re all set.”

At that, your eyes practically bulged right into the teacup. You’d heard his name in some conversations with a few university friends, before you had dropped your program. His father was an inventive in the fashion industry for nearly a decade, and his brand was considered high-end luxury, with people forking up the big bucks just to wear a piece from the collection. His mother recently begun a perfume company. In fact, you had a bottle from her Sunrise series sitting on your vanity, though you used each spritz very sparingly considering its outrageous price point. According to the most recent gossip, Jeonghan had ended his relationship with a model who’d been strutting his father’s cloths.

You couldn’t believe he was here.

No – even worse, you couldn’t believe he was making his way toward your table. It had to be some sort of mistake. How could it be that you chose to sit here? Was the universe attempting another cruel joke?

His visual seemed even more daunting outside his photographs in the magazines. Beyond a glossy page, he was softer. Thick hair, shiny and dark brown, which swooped beneath his ears and parted smoothly at the forehead. His lips were the same shade as the windowsill roses, as well as the high arches in his cheeks. But then, he was sharper too, with a trim, angular jaw and such a defined yet judgemental brow. You had expected anyone else but him. And now, this esteemed, much too beautiful man had come to the very last table, wearing an expression of waning curiosity. Or, as you interpreted it, clear-glass disappointment.

Before Jeonghan seated himself, he untucked his phone from his coat pocket and clicked a side button to check the time. He then sniffled, looked straight at the wall, and sighed. Despite your now devoted wish to disappear, you attempted to begin a conversation that wouldn’t backfire.

“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve heard the name. It’s nice to meet you.”

He settled one arm on the table, tapping his fingernails.

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re not a regular here—” he then peered over at your bright red Love Card placed by the teacup to say your name.

Bouncing your leg underneath the table, you nodded. “No, not really. I’ve been debating for a while if this was a choice I should make, but I can’t seem to have ends meet doing anything else. So, I came here.”

Already, Jeonghan looked painfully bored. He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned his chin against the hand instead. You knew it was the insecurity barking. Unnecessarily, you apologized to him.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not the woman you’re expecting and I get that. I wouldn’t be all that offended if you wanted to save the Love Card for someone else or—”

Out of the blue, Jeonghan laughed, though he attempted to mute the sound by digging the bend of his index finger between his teeth. Your sentence trailed off with an awkward, dying breath. He suddenly leaned back in his metal seat, shaking his head apologetically and pulling back some of the soft hairs from his eyes. You felt utterly confused.

“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, “didn’t mean to discourage you there, sweetheart. I’ve just never had someone apologize for—well, their looks.”

“I-I don’t know,” you lunged for damage control, “I just thought you seemed disappointed and I… Well, I haven’t done this before, so I don’t really know all that well how it works. I… I should stop talking…”

It felt as though someone had swatted both your cheeks in an iron-slap, because the skin was stinging hot like never before. You knew he was staring at you, probably thinking to himself that you were a train wreck waiting to happen. Afterward, an employee visited the table to collect your emptied teacup, and asked Jeonghan if he’d like anything to drink. Refusing to look elsewhere but the clenched fists in your lap, you waited for the employee to leave once Jeonghan rejected the offer. He’d pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, you watched him sloppily scribble something down.

“My number.” He said, sliding it across the table. “Listen, I’ve gotta go home and proofread that term paper before I submit it. Just send me a text, okay? I won’t be free for a few days, anyways.”

“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.

Quite frankly, you couldn’t comprehend that he was still interested in pursuing something venereal, even when you had embarrassed yourself like a circus act. He rose quickly from the table and wrapped the waistband of his coat tight around his small waist.

Staring down at the paper, you blurted out, “are you sure?”

Jeonghan titled his head. “Am I sure of what?”

“Never mind.” You answered. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.” He nodded, on the verge of walking away when he abruptly stopped himself. “Are you always this nervous?”

Caught off guard by his question, your elbow whacked the edge of the table and you meekly stuttered, “I-I don’t know…”

You were more than positive he was going to ghost all your texts.

To a degree, you were correct.

Over the course of the following week, you sent Jeonghan at least three texts, each on separate days, only to be rewarded with a demotivating lack of responses. You knew he was a busy individual who probably didn’t have much time to waste on promiscuous affairs, let alone a committed relationship. So, you tried very earnestly to not feel upset or unimportant at his methods – even despite the series of required payments glaring you down from those white envelopes scattered atop the kitchen table.

And then, during the black, late hours of a snowy Friday, you received a reply. A surprisingly urgent one which detailed that you make it to the downtown Opal Studio before eleven o’clock, as there would be a backdoor entrance left unlocked for your access. He mentioned a storage closet underneath a staircase, worded very sternly as: … Wait inside, and do not make yourself known. I’ll see you there shortly, and ensure you leave without being spotted. Uncertain of what the situation would entail, you phoned a cab and payed the driver using some remaining funds from a paper note purse. The studio’s front was a smooth, velvet black, with a wide window which illuminated several mannequins wearing Mr. Yoon’s newest issue. Each outfit cost a pretty penny.

Like you anticipated, Jeonghan was late to meet you in the storage closet; however, you were at no point going to scold his blatant disregard for scheduling when he’d pressed you tight against the door looking the way he did. Buttons popped down the chest of his unwrinkled dress shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and his neat, styled hair beginning to dishevel around those intense eyes. He braced his hand beside your head, studying your lips as though they were glittering.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked. The question seemed to rumble from deep in his throat and you felt your knees weaken.

You nodded immediately, allowing his hand to frame the side of your cheek as his warm, soft mouth nudged against yours. It was gentle for a fleeting touch, and then there was pressure, teeth, a slick tongue running across your bottom lip and leaving you in such a sensual daze that you just stood there with a parted mouth. Jeonghan definitely knew what he wanted from you in that moment. And he wanted it quick. You were flipped around, chest pushed against the door, skirt hiked up impatiently as the fabric ruffled around your hips. His hand slid between your thighs to rub you through the thin pair of underwear, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the cold, thick rings on his fingers.

Eagerly, you began a slow gyration of grinding against Jeonghan’s touch while simultaneously biting down hard on your bottom lip, knowing embarrassingly well that you were already sticky and soaking and ready for him to use you like a designated fucktoy. He was rather flush to your backside as he dug the heel of his palm against your clit, so much yet not enough between the cotton. Something about his scent was beyond arousing, and it gripped to him like a web. An expensive cologne no doubt, mature, raw, and ocean-fresh. You heard the sound of his belt being whipped open, followed by a zipper.

“Alright,” Jeonghan hummed, passing a hand up his length, “let’s make this quick. Gotta be back upstairs in five to finish the measurements and tapering and all that boring shit. Now, just be a good, quiet little girl for me, sweetheart, and this’ll be a cake walk.”

Your mouth stretched into a low, whiny groan as Jeonghan held your underwear aside and began to sink inside of you, his hips stalled against your skin. His light breath then fluttered at your ear, “bet you’d make such a perfect toy to keep my cock nice and warm. Feels so perfect, being this deep inside you, sweetheart.” He shuddered against you, thrusting once, twice, slowly and teasingly dragging himself out before ramming right back in to pinch you against the door.

“Fuck,” he cursed between his teeth, “life would be so much easier if I could just keep you right here on my cock, wouldn’t it, baby?”.

Undoubtedly, that smooth-talking tongue of his was going to be an impending problem. You don’t know where he got off exactly on such scandalous thoughts, but you were too consumed in your own lust to care. The way he fucked you against that door with one hand scraping at your hip and the other wrapped up your throat, fingers pressing hot into your drooling mouth to keep you quiet, it was more bliss than a one-way ticket to Eden. Jeonghan timed his orgasm appropriately, slipping himself from your warmth at the last second and finishing himself off using the hand which had been maintaining your silence. His breaths were slow but husky in the aftermath, his fingers painted in cum.

“You wouldn’t want to use that pretty mouth of yours to clean this, would you?” He laughed.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had grabbed some paper towels left to sit on a shelf and cleaned the mess himself. Then, as though nothing had happened, he asked if you were carrying that damn Love Card before you could even flatten down the wrinkles in your skirt. You grabbed the small note purse you set down next to the paper towels and revealed the obnoxiously coloured card. Jeonghan smiled.

“That’s the one.” He took a dry erase marker from the shelf and wrote his initials in the first circle.

“Here,” Jeonghan proceeded to offer back the card, “one session down. I need to scram. The hall should be clear at this hour, but have a cab ready just in case you need to bolt fast. Oh—before I go, you got the money to pay the driver? It’s no problem if you’re short. I can cover.”

“N-No, I should have enough.” You answered.

“Cool. I’ll transact you tonight.” Jeonghan nodded, tucking in his shirt rather poorly before slipping past you to exit the storage closet.

One week later, you were at the entrance to the library, pulling open the door with a big, cold huff. It was much warmer inside. You were beginning to feel the tips of your stiff fingers again.

Despite your service at the Love Café, you wanted one last time to test your luck on a receptionist position at the downtown hair salon, simply because you would think better of yourself if you weren’t relying chiefly on Jeonghan to pay your bills. His last transaction had been more than you anticipated. Finally, you were able to erase that huge electricity bill, and you still had enough of the money left over to supply some warm meals for the next few days. If you could just submit your newest resume to the salon, then you might be able to permanently cover the groceries.

Except, you needed access to a computer.

Ever since you tipped over a glass of water onto your old laptop, it had stopped working properly, and the library was the only place close by which let you use the computer room without fees. However, as you peered in through the backroom window to find an open space, you realized just how crammed full it was. Judging by everyone’s intense typing and unblinking eyes, you weren’t going to steal a seat anytime soon, which pulled out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with the USB in your pocket. You thought about heading home, until you saw Jeonghan.

He was seated at the distant left corner, leaned back comfortably in the chair while he examined something on his laptop. A gym bag was slid underneath the table, and he was dressed as though he had some sort of sports practice; quite the contrary to his usual crisp, ironed shirts and heavy winter coats courtesy of brands you couldn’t pronounce. He seemed concentrated, chewing on his thumb nail while he tapped the touch pad. In fact, he didn’t notice that you had approached him until you said his name quietly from across the table and his eyes flickered.

“Uh, hey.” Jeonghan replied, sounding bothered while he pushed his thumb harshly against his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“And I didn’t expect to see you.”

He shrugged, maintaining his uninterested glance on the laptop screen. “Well, I’m looking over some notes. Last minute stuff.”

You nodded. “What’s with the duffle bag?”

“My friend Joshua – he’s been making me coach this Peewee soccer team with him at the Greenfield Dome.” Jeonghan puffed out his chest, letting an arm fall loosely to his side. “Those kids are insane. They have too much energy. I shouldn’t have let that bastard sweet talk me.”

At that, you giggled, though immediately hushed yourself when the librarian came by with a metal cart, filled with books to shelve. You stepped around the table to move out of her way. Jeonghan pulled out the chair beside him using his foot and nodded that you take a seat.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.

“I need to upload my new resume. I mean, I probably won’t hear anything back from this place, ‘cause that’s how it usually goes. But, whatever. Thing is, I busted my laptop, and now the computer room is filled up. I’ll just come back later and hope it’s cleared out.” Staring down at your shoes, you avoided Jeonghan’s gaze. “I know I’m doing this Love Café stuff, but it would still be nice to have my own income, you know?”

“I get that.” He replied, scratching at his collarbone. “I’ve already got my laptop here and everything. You can use it, if you want.”

“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan closed a few tabs that he’d been rotating between before sliding his laptop over to you. Wriggling the memory stick into the small slot at the side, you logged into your email account through the main search engine. As long as you could send your resume to the salon before they closed their application deadline, then you would hope for the absolute best, even if it was an unstimulating, lacklustre gig answering phones and scheduling hair appointments all day. Just as you went to drag the file into your email, Jeonghan’s laptop froze.

“Uh, Jeonghan,” you whispered, “nothing’s moving. Do I just wait? Does this normally happen? Did I screw something up?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s been doing that a lot recently. I figured out if you hold down these keys—” Jeonghan suddenly scooted his chair in very close, his thigh pressing against yours as he reached a hand underneath your arm, the other lightly nudging your fingers off the keyboard, “then it goes back to normal. See?”

“O-Oh, yeah. It’s working.” You stuttered, not all staring at the specific keys he clicked because the side of his face was much too pretty.

Granting you access to the keyboard again, Jeonghan leaned away, though he didn’t move his thigh from yours even an inch. It was almost concerning how flustered you felt. Jeonghan had literally pinned you against a closet door and fucked his own hand right in front of you, and yet, your heart was fluttering tenfold. In a much different way. And it lit this spark of fear and adrenaline at the core of your chest like gasoline hitting a wicked flame. You detached the USB stick, logged yourself out from the email account, and moved quickly off the seat.

In a hurried breath, you said, “thanks so much!” and proceeded to leave the library as though someone were trailing you with a pitchfork.

While it was embarrassing, you knew it was necessary. There was no way you were going to crush on that boy. It was strictly business.

Tired. Aching.

Uncomfortable moisture covering the slopes and divots of your body. You didn’t think there was anything left inside you for him to so commandingly take, like his name were inked to your each and every limb. And yet, Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you rest. The mattress dipped behind you, the heat of his chest sticking to your back, the weight of his erection pressed right at your tailbone. While his lips kissed softly up your neck, Jeonghan slid his hand in between your thighs to continue pleasuring you, ignoring the responsive whimpers attached to your sensitivity. He’d already brought you to two orgasms, though you were sensing the overbearing rush of a third.

An index and middle finger slid down to your entrance, the contact beyond slippery, a sort of wet velvet, and you hardly recognized the sensation unlike the first time he’d touched you. Jeonghan hooked the digits deep, using the heel of his palm to rub a thorough friction against your clit. Working faster and faster, his laboured breaths fanned hot across your neck while he sharply concentrated on making you starry-eyed. It was pain. It was bliss. It was exactly what you wanted most and everything you couldn’t endure at the same time. You came heavily, screamed as the pulsation at your core felt almost violent.

Unable to fully ride out the pleasure, you attempted to curl away from Jeonghan, hiding your face in the pillows and further tilting your hips. However, the boy followed your movement. He stayed snug to your back, practically leaned over top you with the latter arm braced next to your head while his hand pounded and pounded. The amount of liquid gushing onto his fingers and spilling down his wrist felt almost comical, and you were certain that you had never orgasmed so intensely in your life. To make matters worse, it seemed as though he’d taken that little memory box in your head filled with all your language and tossed it right out the damn window. You couldn’t form one word other than sobs.

Jeonghan breathed a light, shaky chuckle beside your ear. “Trying to run from me, sweetheart? When I can make you feel so good? Look at how much you can take, honey. Such a good girl when you cum so fucking hard ‘round my fingers I can barely move them.”

The sound of his digits sliding out from your entrance was the most impure, salacious noise you didn’t know could exist. Rolling slowly onto your back, you saw the immediate coating on Jeonghan’s hand and the drops beading down his wrist. He caught one with his tongue, licking all the way back up like he was cleaning the juice from a melted popsicle, and you almost couldn’t watch him. In fact, you were exhausted. There wasn’t anything left for you to offer, and the thought of moving from his bed when your core felt this utterly sore and your muscles this tight set a perfectly timed cue for your eyes to fall shut. It was heavenly.

Nonetheless, Jeonghan had a very specific rule. There was no staying past your session, and he was often strikingly clear about it. But  this was the first time you’d been pushed to such a degree. He must be able to recognize that it was only a short nap you needed, and perhaps a quick minute under the shower to rid your skin of the sticky sweat.

Out of the blue, something was tossed onto your face. It was your t-shirt earlier stripped and thrown to the floor by Jeonghan. Cracking an eye open and peeling away the fabric to hang loosely from your grip, you sighed. He had already slipped back into his exercise pants.

“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”

He threw a loose flannel over the long, beaming red scrapes that you had clawed down his back, shaking his head with a huff.

“I’m not saying you need to get out right now. I’ve got a dinner with the parents at eight.” Jeonghan proceeded to drop the rest of your undergarments onto bed. “So, you gotta be gone by a quarter to, alright?”

Swallowing dryly, you nodded.

“Alright.”

The next morning, you were seated on the edge of your bed, staring with bleary eyes at the smooth, red Love Card that was initialed to its fifth circle, leaving only eight more sessions with Jeonghan. Though you approached the café with nothing more than an intention to earn money (even if the sex would be inexplicably dull), you were beginning to presume that there was more to this business than you thought. Because the sex wasn’t dull. It was concerningly amazing. And the very man who you had sworn to maintain a no-strings-attached type relationship with was throwing you for a loop. But he was boundary driven.

Be ready to go by this time. No sparkly clothes. Leave nothing in the washroom. Don’t show up here. Don’t show up there. Don’t text me unless this. Don’t call me unless that. Jeonghan knew very explicitly that you were a simple trick to relieving his stress and fulfilling his sexual desires, yet, anything further than that was laughably impossible. And, besides, it’s not like you needed to be in love or have this dazzling, perfect boyfriend. There was too much on your plate already.

You had gone to bed in a thick wool sweater, layered with the heaviest comforter you had due to the broken heating. Ignoring the cold, your next-door neighbours had found themselves in another drunken argument, forcing you to hear the unnerving crack of beer bottles and an outrageous number of insults, ranging from the very straightforward, ‘ridiculous bitch” to the audacious, “go fuck yourself, narcissistic prick.”

Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.

You set the Love Card back on your nightstand. After you splashed mild water onto your face from the sink, you started multitasking, attempting to brush your teeth and remove your pyjama bottoms at the same time. Then, there was a knock at your door. You spared a glance through the peephole while the toothbrush hung from the corner of your mouth and the frigid air hit your bare legs. Upon recognizing the face reflected through the fisheye lens, you nearly choked on the mint-flavoured spit collected at the back of your throat, which forced you to unpleasantly compose yourself at the kitchen sink.

He knocked again, and you pulled the door open almost immediately, probably appearing as though you just hiked through the wilderness. Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he smiled at you.

“Damn. Sleep well?” He remarked, looking you up and down.

You were in the midst of a yawn as you answered. “Um, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”

Jeonghan nodded. “I’ll take that as a no.” He then reached into the pocket on his flannel coat. “Anyways, I have your phone. You left it on my bedside table the other night. Figured it’s kind of useful, I guess.”

“Oh my god. I did that?” You winced, realizing you must have been so tired and discombobulated from Jeonghan blowing your brains out that you forgot. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Leaning your temple against the door, you sighed. “How was that dinner thing with your parents? Was it any fun?”

The boy shook his head, pulling out his car keys and tossing them from hand to hand. “No. It was all business bullshit. What they want me to do with my future after I graduate uni. How to be responsible with my money since they think I’m gonna blow it in a few years. Trying to structure my life around stuff I don’t really give a damn about.”

“O-Oh…” You frowned, “well, was there at least good food?”

Jeonghan stopped playing with his keys and titled his head at you. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes gentle, “they had great red velvet cake.”

Unfortunately, your neighbours must have woken up and decided it was a little too peaceful at such an hour, because you heard a loud, clanging thump echo from the room beside yours, like someone had dropped a metal pot or pan on the ground. Of course, the yelling started.

It didn’t last nearly as long compared to the night before, just a few scolding comments which were ultimately muffled. You wondered what Jeonghan was thinking as he blinked at the neighbour’s door and realized how despairing the narrow, dimly-lit hallway looked. After visiting his high-end apartment numerous times based in the luxury core of the city, with its beautiful architecture and sparkle, you were frankly a bit humiliated he was witnessing this drab part of your life – the reason you were seeking his service in the first place. You apologized through your teeth for the commotion, though Jeonghan merely shrugged.

“It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true. But those two next door can be a handful sometimes. I don’t get it. If they hate each other, then just break up. Get divorced. It’s like they want to be miserable on purpose.”

“Bet you wish you could get the hell outta here, huh?”

“All the time.” You replied wistfully. “I’m thinking of going to the mall today, actually. I need a new bath towel. Whatever gets me away.”

“You want a ride there?” Jeonghan asked, shaking his keys.

At that, you smiled a little too wide. “Maybe.”

Carefully, you picked up a thin, glass bottle of pink perfume from the display counter, tilting the liquid back and forth as the lights gleamed off the gold nozzle. Everything inside the store was diamond bright and almost blinding, while the air smelled strongly of expensive floral. The employees were tailored in smooth, sophisticated suits, which made you more petrified than usual to touch anything, hence your very delicate inspection of the perfume as you waited for Jeonghan to finish his conversation with the front clerk. Since his father’s collection was sold at the boutique, Jeonghan seemed to have a cordial relationship with the staff, and they had recognized him almost immediately.

As most of their merchandise was quite expensive, you always ignored the boutique until Jeonghan suggested you stop by. It didn’t help that there was actually some cute clothing begging to be bought, though you knew one swift glance at the price tag would change your mind. You brought the perfume bottle close to your nose and inhaled lightly.

“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.

You sniffed again. “It’s sweet, though it’s not strong.”

“Let me smell.” He said, and so you raised the bottle up to his nose. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around yours as he took a breath, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s all wrong. I don’t like it.”

“It is kind of high schoolish.” You told him, setting the test bottle back onto the counter as though you were laying down a jewel. “I just need a new scent, you know? I actually love that one bottle your mom did, the summer tropic one. It’s so peachy but mild. I’m running out.”

“For real?” Jeonghan laughed, his eyes skipping over the different shaped containers. “You use one of my mom’s perfumes?”

“Um, yeah. Have you even smelled the tropic one? It’s amazing.”

“I don’t hang around her laboratory too often.” He replied. “It gives me a big fucking headache. Smells like this place times a hundred.”

You shrugged. “I guess that’s understandable.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan had latched his hand around your elbow, pulling you around to the opposite side of the counter. He grabbed a tall, slim bottle that was made from foggy glass and a chrome silver pump.

“C’mon, give me your wrist for a second.” He said. “Try this scent. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of you.”

Pulling up your sleeve, you stuck out your wrist and allowed him to spray a thin layer against the skin. Then, you sniffed the area. At first, your forehead crinkled as you attempted to decipher its concoction of notes. There was something a little fresh and cool, but then there was this oddly mature hint of a distinguished floral scent. You couldn’t pinpoint the flower, but it was certainly addictive and very intriguing.

“It’s called Orchid Night. Smells great, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, rolling your sleeve back down “just don’t tell me what it costs. It has to be at least fifty bucks.”

“Try sixty-nine,” Jeonghan corrected, “plus tax, don’t forget.”

Immediately, you grabbed the bottle from his hand and returned the perfume to its small podium on the countertop.

“Well, let’s put it back before we break it.”

Jeonghan smirked. “I could buy it for you.”

For a split second, you were tempted to succumb, though you snapped from the thought at the last second and shook your head.

“No way. I wouldn’t let you, anyways.”

He buried his hands in his pockets, rolling those gold-copper eyes of his. Jeonghan made sure to purposefully bump into you as he walked down the bright aisle toward the clothes. “Honestly, you’re so boring, man. That scent, on you? It would be sexy.” The boy then turned around to smother you with a burning gaze. “But, fine. Have it your way.”

You hurried after him, scoffing lightheartedly to camouflage the fact your heart was beating like a broken pendulum. Jeonghan had stopped at a rack of neatly pressed clothing to sort through the hangers.

“My way is the better way,” you smiled, “always.”

Jeonghan moved the long-sleeved button-up he’d been eyeing back onto the rack, merely blowing out a puff of air.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Besides, I still need to get my bath towel.”

“We can find it on the bottom floor. At the new essentials store that just opened up. The Shower Duck, I think.”

“The Shower what?”

He couldn’t help but cackle while repeating himself. “The Shower Duck. You thought I said something else, didn’t you?”

When you were too tongue-twisted to reply, Jeonghan decided to place his fingers softly on your chin, holding your head still as he leaned in very closely to whisper, “you’re such a dirty girl, you know that?” You almost hated how casually he pulled away and continued to examine the clothing, as though he hadn’t just murmured a lascivious comment into your ear while the employees were standing a mere few meters across the store. More than anything, you desired the courage to deservingly tease him in return, to break that relaxed little shtick of his. Except, you weren’t confident nor subtle enough to attempt anything in public.

But when your eyes landed on that brand-new lingerie set wrapped primly on the nearest mannequin, you had a wonderful idea.

“No, are you being serious? Why? Why?”

His blunt fingernails sunk into the leather arms of the desk chair, scraping upward, as equally frustrated with your cruel antics as he was aroused and impatient. Maybe it was somewhat meanspirited to strut the thin, beautiful lace and ribbons curled around your body in a baby pink, and indeed, there was a moment where you pondered leniency, though, you severed the thought, because Jeonghan would surely tear each garter and bow from your outfit like it hadn’t cost anything at all. Pursing your bottom lip, you smiled, sinister and cold.

“I am being serious,” you stated firmly, nearing closer to his desk chair, “your hands won’t touch a single part of me, Jeonghan.”

He glared up at you with a dark, flickering fire in his eyes,  as if he were already weighing the consequence to breaking such rules. You began to sit comfortably on the boy’s lap, curling your arms around his neck while maintaining the intensity of the stare.

“And, if you do, I’ll grab my things and leave. It’ll just be you and your hand, for the rest of the night.” Purposefully, you brushed delicate lips, featherlight, along his warm, red-tinged ear, to which you could practically feel him harden underneath you upon the whisper, “and there’ll be nothing you can do other than remembering how good it felt when I was in your lap, grinding down on you, baby boy, just like this.”

Slowly and with focus, you rolled your hips in a deep, smooth gyration, ensuring Jeonghan felt the heavy pressure against all the right places. His hands keened for your waist, so you immediately reminded him of your unnegotiable rules, forcing them to settle on the arms of the chair. He drew in a sharp breath. And then, he started to laugh, like a beaten protagonist receiving their first, acrid taste of defeat. Jeonghan titled his head back to smile very lazily at you.

“Evil.” He said. “You’re fucking evil.”

“Mmhm,” you agreed, continuing the unhurried, steadfast pace of your hips rolling back and forth, observing with poorly hidden glee as the boy lost his smile, “but you’ll still cum, won’t you, Jeonghan?”

Before he could sneak in a clever rebuttal, you adjusted yourself even lower onto his lap, digging your nails down the back of his neck as you circled a thorough motion against his erection. Admittedly, it was difficult to maintain the domineering act. Even through the black material of the slacks, his cock was managing to create a friction with your lace underwear, a friction so rough yet fruitless that you were already tempted to take him, full and aching inside you. In order to distract yourself, you licked the tender side to Jeonghan’s neck, looping your tongue in a messy, warm pattern overtop a sensitive vein.

“Ff-fuck,” Jeonghan stuttered, scraping harshly along the chair, “you devilish little girl, c-can’t believe you’re g’nna make me cum like this—b-but it feels so damn good the way you’re moving, baby.”

You suckled until you’d drawn a shiny, wine-coloured hue to the surface of Jeonghan’s skin, to mark a dark bruise as a keepsake. He kept breathing through a parted mouth, each exhale shakier and more erratic than the last, his knuckles hard like stone while they gratingly tensed and betrayed his frustration at not being able to touch you. With slow, teasing hands, you began to drag them down his chest, nails clawing at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt. Jeonghan squirmed. He clenched his jaw and cursed rough under his breath. You focused on where his cock was poking you to apply the most dizzying pressure thus far, rolling your hips until something inside Jeonghan snapped and you felt him cum.

“Jesus—fuck!” He shouted, the loudest you had ever heard the boy, and there was a notable tear in his usually soft voice. “Keep going, keep going,” Jeonghan panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “keep fucking moving just like that, sweetheart. A-Ahh, ff-fuck, feels s-so good—"

At the pulsating sensation right beneath your core, you submitted to Jeonghan’s wish and continued grinding down, even if you were beginning to tire at your lack of stamina. However, there came a point where you were too breathless to maintain such a pace, so you trickled to a halt and steadied your hands on his firm shoulders. He tossed his head back, neck leaned against the edge of the chair. The hazy, glass look to his brown eyes and the rose glow smeared on each cheek made it appear as though he’d just touched down from heaven. As you shifted slightly in Jeonghan’s lap, you noticed the white stream of cum that had soaked through his pants, and that somehow, he was still hard.

“I didn’t know you could beg, Jeonghan.” You remarked, grinning, meanwhile attempting to catch your breath.

He shook his head. “Don’t expect it too much.”

“Well, I can tell you’re satisfied, either way.”

He chuckled, brushing some of the loose hairs from his face. You felt his hands settle upon your waist’s bare skin, warm and squeezing. In that moment, you just didn’t possess the same acuteness to scold him.

“Almost,” Jeonghan huffed, “but, what do you suppose you’ll do to please yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned forward, until his forehead was just a sliver away from bumping yours, the boy sliding a hand down your abdomen and beneath the lace underwear. As he stroked the tips of his fingers along your slit, he smirked. “I’ve never felt someone so wet before, dripping all over my fingers and I’m barely touching you. Did it turn you on that much, sweetheart? Feeling my hard cock right underneath this needy pussy of yours?” Jeonghan teased with a smirk and a low, calm tone. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to duct tape his mouth shut or allow him to keep talking, as there was something about his honeyed voice which wound you up like clockwork.

Yet, before you could even start the syllable of a response, Jeonghan pushed you strongly from his lap, his hands glued to your waist as he guided you to stumble against the bed. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets puffing up around you. And then, Jeonghan was kissing you, lips clashing messily while he took advantage of the switched power dynamic to run his hands over your every inch. One second, they were cupping your breasts overtop the baby pink bralette. Another second, they were grabbing at your ass and kneading so desperately. You were being ravaged. It was overwhelming, it was gratifying, it was needed beyond belief.

“Hey,” Jeonghan said, separating his mouth from the side of your throat to stare at you with an oddly sentimental eye, “before I get all up in your guts and everything— you look beautiful. Even if you did choose this outfit to be a big fucking tease.” His fingers brushed down the edge of your jaw, and he smiled at you in a way that wasn’t clever or teetering on sarcasm. Your heart leapt like a little frog in your chest.

“Really?” You questioned him, not because you didn’t believe the lingerie suited your figure, but rather, you weren’t expecting this sweetness from someone who was always so quick to get rid of you.

He nodded, raising a suspecting eyebrow. “Yeah, really. What, you think I’m lying to you or something?”

“No, I don’t think that,” you answered quickly, curling your fingers into the bedsheets, “I just—I wasn’t… Uh, never mind.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan laughed, lowering his head to delicately kiss your cheek, and then your neck, “you’re a bit strange sometimes, you know that?” He mumbled against the sensitive skin, even daring to dig his knee between your thighs to make you increasingly pliable.

“I-I know,” you stuttered, unable to help your embarrassing voice crack. But you still smiled, letting Jeonghan explore and pleasure your body with an uncharacteristic tenderness for the remainder of the night.

Twelve am.

Usually, at this time, you’d be at the bottom floor of his apartment complex, seated by the lobby water fountain. You’d be examining your face with a pocket mirror, awaiting the yellow taxi cab, and trying to avoid eye contact with the wealthy businesspeople filtering from the elevators in glamourous congregation.

However, tonight was different.

Tonight, you were in Jeonghan’s bed, with a white sheet covering the lower half of your bodies, an ear pressed to his bare, warm chest while you breathed him in like the wind on a bright summer’s day. You felt his fingertips trace long figure eights down your spine and then dance back up to the subtle curve of your shoulder blades. Sometimes it tickled, other times it was a touch so soft it was hardly there, and in between you thought he might have been tracing words. The room was quiet. But good quiet— the comfortable quiet. And then you heard Jeonghan speak into the crown of your head while his hand stilled at your waist.

“Did that salon ever call you back?” He asked.

You sighed, focusing on your thumb which brushed a small freckle on his pectoral muscle. “They emailed me, and said their position was already filled, but that they’ll try to look for another opening.”

Jeonghan rubbed your hip. “That’s good, right? I mean, they didn’t just flat out reject you. They’re gonna keep you in mind.”

“It’s better than what I’m used to getting,” you answered, pressing your lips together and tilting your head up at him.

And, that’s when it struck you, like someone had just clanged a bell right beside your head. You were still in Jeonghan’s bed. You were still in Jeonghan’s apartment. You were still with Jeonghan. Feeling as though you’d broken some vastly significant cardinal rule, you operated on a strange basis of panic and autopilot, already seated at the edge of the mattress while you tucked your underwear back on.

“I’m sorry,” you spewed, reaching for your shirt next and straightening it out frantically in your lap, “the time escaped me. I-I know I have to go. And, my Love Card, I think it’s in my purse or—”

“Can you slow down?” Jeonghan laughed, casting a hand through his loose, disarrayed hair which you had admittedly tugged earlier in the night like your life depended on it. The boy’s arms circled around your midframe, hugging your back to his chest. “I don’t care about that stupid card right now,” Jeonghan hummed into your ear, “stay.”

At that, you almost choked. “Stay? You want me to stay?” You repeated dumbly, dropping the inside-out shirt back onto your lap.

The coldest shiver split down your spine as Jeonghan buried his face against your neck, taking a breath of your scent, kissing your skin.

“Yeah,” he purred, now pecking the soft spot behind your ear, “I want you to stay. Or, if you really want to go home, I won’t stop you.”

“No,” you replied almost immediately, melting into his voice, his touch, his body, “trust me, I’d rather be here.”

Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.

“I figured that.”

Even though you had strongly protested the idea, Jeonghan succeeded at wearing you down akin to an ocean tide forming whorls into rock, and now you were seated before your vanity with an array of makeup scattered at your fingertips as you prepared for a dinner. His parents were going to be there, in addition to some business partners and close friends, which sounded like something from a hellish nightmare. In fact, Jeonghan himself didn’t seem all that eager to attend. He’d been sprawled across your bed for the past half hour, with the long drapes of his coat fanned around him, as he flipped through an old magazine. You were certain he just didn’t want to tough another dinner alone.

After focusing a spritz of perfume to your neck (the orchid one, bought by Jeonghan, because he was very insistent that you not smell like his mother) you shut off the vanity lights and sighed.

“I think I’m ready… Physically though, not mentally.”

Jeonghan yawned, tossing the magazine aside before he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. He rubbed at his eye.

“Trust me, it’s not going to be the big, royal midnight ball that you’re picturing. My parents have these dinners all the time. You’ll be the centre of attention for a few minutes, and then it’s pretty much just business central from there. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a word in. I stopped trying months ago.”

You smiled at him, feeling slightly better about the situation, and took one last, scrutinizing glance in the mirror. The dress was simple yet elegant, a mute shade of dark blue with a beaded, crystal belt that you had forgotten about, as you discovered it laying behind a stool shoved in your closet. The fabric had an elastic tightness to it and was hemmed shorter than you remembered, just above your fingertips. You tried not to judge or overthink the figure which reflected in the vanity glass, or what Jeonghan’s parents might assume upon their first introduction to someone who was so clueless on their accolades. It was merely a dinner.

“Stop worrying so much,” Jeonghan hummed, sensing that you were at the forefront of a spiral. His hands settled to your hips and he caught your eye through the mirror. “No one is going to judge you, or poke fun at you, or say anything mean. I promise.” He then grabbed your winter coat off the bed, helping you slide into the arms, and even doing up the buttons. “You’re gorgeous.” Jeonghan said, tapping your chin.

It didn’t help that he could fluster you so easily.

Joshua wasn’t at all who you expected him to be, while simultaneously encompassing everything you would indeed expect from the position of Jeonghan’s closest friend. He was a juxtaposition personified. Slick, ash blonde hair combed into a handsome wave, eyes which twinkled like the restaurant’s diamond chandelier, and a soothing voice which could be a cup of warm milk on a frosty day, though his interactions with Jeonghan portrayed him as childlike and frivolous. He greeted you, at first with a quick hug. You heard him exhale deeply.

“Wow,” Joshua commented, retreating to shake your hand, “you smell amazing! I mean—well, I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”

You laughed, and wondered how someone could smile with such a prettiness. “Thank you! I’d be upset if you didn’t notice, actually.”

Joshua continued to shake your hand. “Oh, yeah, agree. It’s wonderful to meet you. Jeonghan’s been trying to hide you, it seems.”

“Go shove a break stick in your mouth,” Jeonghan scoffed, blowing a loose piece of hair from his eyes, “and stop shaking her hand like that. You’re gonna snap her whole arm off.”

Finally, Joshua released his grip, and your arm fell back to your side like a limp noodle. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“I was not. Anyways—” he nodded at you, “like I said, nice to meet you. I hope we’ll talk more tonight and I’ll pick your brain.”

“Sure thing,” you answered, waving the boy off as he returned to the dinner table before facing Jeonghan. “He seems nice.”

“And totally into you. I haven’t seen him shake someone’s hand like that since I introduced him to Elouise from France. He’s gonna turn into a lost puppy all over again. Bet he’ll try to sweet talk you later.”

“Can’t wait.” You grinned, already giggling through your teeth.

Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.

However, meeting Jeonghan’s parents was starkly different than the good-humoured Joshua. They both appeared cross, and firm, and before you had even shaken their hands you were forced to wipe yours against your dress. The father was a bit softer around the edges, showing you a pleased smile that reminded you instantaneously of Jeonghan, while the mother was stone-faced and seemed as though she hadn’t slouched since birth. Even when she complimented your fragrance, there was a tartness to her voice which made it sound disingenuous.

“Well, Jeonghan,” she said, clasping her hands together, “I’m glad to finally see you with a lovely lady on your arm. I didn’t think it was possible that you could settle for someone after being with Baejin.”

“Oh?” The father piped up, “you’re my son’s girlfriend?”

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had beaten you to it.

“No, she’s…” he bit his lip hard, “she’s just a friend. Mom kept nagging that I always come to these dinners alone, and she was down.”

For some reason, it felt like someone had pierced a pin straight through your heart – a very tiny hole which shouldn’t hurt all that much, yet stung like flesh to orange, glowing metal. In fact, there was a visible shift in your countenance, from a nervous smile to a sunken frown, but you were able to veil it very quickly and pretend nothing was wrong. Why should you feel so disappointed that Jeonghan had introduced you as a friend? The promiscuous nature of your relationship didn’t immediately loop you two together as soulmates, or lovers, or even the mildest beginnings of boyfriend and girlfriend. You tried to refocus yourself.

Jeonghan’s mother nodded. “Even if she isn’t your next Baejin, it’s nice to meet a new face. The dinner talk might bore you no doubt.”

“No, not at all—” you forced a smile, “I’m just excited to be here.”

It was easier to endure the night than you thought, because true to Jeonghan’s word, the conversation was a bunch of business lingo that you didn’t exactly understand, with the occasional question flitted to you by Joshua who sat across the table. You had completely emptied your glass of ice water, and were halfway through your wine when two fancy, tuxedoed servers stopped by the table to collect everyone’s dishes. A distant relative was seated to Jeonghan’s right, and they had swept him into a discussion of whether or not he was interested in pursuing his current degree or if he would abandon it to work fulltime for his father’s brand. Meanwhile, Joshua had whisper-shouted your name.

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“Are you getting dessert?” The blonde asked, already shoving a small, plastic menu to his face. “I can’t decide what I want.”

“I guess so,” you picked up an extra menu sitting by a purple wine bottle and started to browse the list of decadent food.

Joshua sighed, “I usually get the cheesecake… but, I’m torn. What if I want the caramel apple baked pudding with black truffles?”

“The caramel apple baked what?” You questioned, laughing from the absolute mouthful that Joshua just worded so effortlessly.

“I know, I know. It’s a jumble. But my family and I come here all the time so I’ve gotten these names down pat. What are you thinking?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before, actually.”

His eyes, glistering and delighted, locked with yours. “Can I recommend you something, then?” Joshua said while smiling. “Red velvet cake. It’s right at the bottom. Not to mention the slice is huge so there’s always leftovers for the next day. It’s a favourite here.”

The relative responsible for dragging Jeonghan into another trite conversation concerning his future had excused themselves from the table. He was finally able to return his attention to you, and you slid over the dessert menu so he could pick something. You noted that Jeonghan’s hand had fallen onto your thigh, right at the hem of your dress, and you could only surmise that trouble was brewing. Joshua took a sip from his water glass, then settled it back on the table while subtly eyeing you.

“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you in school?”

You tapped your nails against the white table cloth, shaking your head, “no—I had to drop my program. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be and, well, I took a huge hit financially. So, no school.”

“Not everything is going to be a bullseye,” Joshua said, “I’m sure there’ll be more opportunity down the road. This other friend of mine, his name is Mingyu, he does this thing called the Love Café—” the boy then gestured to Jeonghan, “and I know he’s done it once before. Have you heard of it? Maybe it’s not up your alley, but I hear it’s good money.���

The suggestion had quite visibly stunned you. It seemed that Jeonghan was intent to keep the foundation of your relationship as covert as possible, which prompted his ‘friends’ comment before dinner, therefore you had no choice but to follow the rouse, even if the boy was currently sliding his hand further up the inside of your thigh, pushing inch by inch under your dress. Jeonghan didn’t contribute a single word.

“Um, the name sounds familiar. I’ll have to look it up.” You then glanced at him, hanging his head over the menu like a child who forgot their glasses, probably hiding some million-watt smirk.

“Are you having dessert?” Joshua asked his friend.

Jeonghan sat up straight, nodding, “I am.”

“The red velvet cake?”

“Vanilla ice cream. The one that comes on the skillet.”

“Oh, that one’s seriously good,” Joshua groaned, “ask them to put a chocolate chip cookie on the side. It gets all warm and—”

“Joshua,” the young lady beside him, probably in her late twenties, with petal-shaped, twinkling eyes similar to his and ice-like smooth skin, suddenly wrapped her hand around his arm, “can you come outside with me for a few minutes? I think I left my wallet in the car.”

He pushed out his chair. “Sure thing—guys, I’ll be back in a few. I need to help my cousin. If the waiter comes, order for me please.”

While you might have promised Joshua to follow through on his unnecessarily complicated apple pudding, such thoughts were quick to be discarded the moment he’d left the table, as Jeonghan had given you much more to think about. The boy’s hand was wedged between the apex of your thighs with two fingers pressed flat against your underwear. You felt heat, and the faintest burning of pleasure, one that yearned for you to start a gentle undulation against his hand because your unruly body was already eager for stimulation. Jeonghan picked up his wine glass.

“What are you doing?” You tried to shelter the whisper from the table’s guests, hoping the business speech was too engrossing.

As laid back as an ironing board, Jeonghan took a long gulp from his drink, swishing the wine from cheek to cheek before he swallowed. He set the wide-rimmed glass back down and wiped his mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” He said, raising an eyebrow at you as though you’d conjured a make-believe tale. However, the instant he started to slide up his index finger so it could push firmly against your clit, a smirk penetrated that complacent expression.

You grabbed his wrist, stared him dead in those honey-brown eyes. “Are you insane?” the whisper was harsh, “we’re in public.”

He tilted his head indifferently. “What’s your point, love? I get to play with your pussy whenever I want. It’s mine now. Remember?”

The dirty-mouthed comment split a fire beneath your cheeks like a flint cracking steel. Not only that, but Jeonghan studied each minor contort of your face as he slipped two digits beneath your underwear, brushing his fingertips ever so softly around your sensitive clit. You gulped, dry and gritty, hating that your thighs were starting to spread.

“Jeonghan!” A voice called his name from down the table.

Fear gripped your poor heart like latex glove. It was an older relative, asking him to pass down the remaining bottle full of wine.

“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.

You nearly gawked at the remark considering the immoral placement of his hand and what he was doing. On the contrary – as much as you wanted to be embarrassed for allowing Jeonghan to touch you in public viewing– he knew his talents much too well, and the manner in which he used your own arousal to lubricate the massaging motion of his finger to your clit was an astounding bliss. Your legs fell wider apart, inviting him to explore a more rigorous touch, and that’s when Jeonghan curled his two fingers inside of you until his knuckles couldn’t fit.

Before your pinched expression could be caught by anyone at the table, you looked straight down at your lap, watching his wrist work beneath the navy-blue fabric. In fact, very faintly, you could hear the squelch from his digits pumping deep and slow into your warmth. Your bottom lip was quivering as he drew them out, now running the long length of his fingers upward to graze beneath the hood of your clit. He repeated a stroking gesture. It triggered the nerves to swell and pulse.

“I see Joshua walking back,” Jeonghan murmured, an arrogance thick in his voice, “and you don’t want him to find out about this, do you? Or, maybe I’m wrong.” He slid his entire hand beneath your underwear and cupped your centre, squeezing like he owned it. “Maybe you want him to know you’re such a whore of a girl that you’ll take my fingers anywhere. I mean, look at how much you’ve opened your legs, and I didn’t even ask you to. I love when you behave just for me, honey.”

Joshua collapsed back at the table with a huff, combing some snow flurries from his hair. “We found the wallet.” He said.

Yet, you couldn’t even bring yourself to face him. Jeonghan had spread your lips with his index and ring finger, using his middle digit to make rhythmic, deep circles around the bud. An erotic whine escaped your teeth and Joshua’s eyes widened; his face tinged with concern.

“Are you alright?” He questioned. “Did you get a Charlie horse?”

“N-No, I’m fine, really.” You composed yourself with a weak smile, and took a sip from your wine. “I got one of those rib pains.”

The blonde boy winced. “Ouch, those hurt big time.”

Honestly, you didn’t think it was possible to endure dessert without revealing to some degree that you were being, well, stretched open by Jeonghan. It was sheer torture staring at the waiter while he took your order, knowing the boy was lazily pumping his fingers inside you with a half-smirk seated so comfortably to his face. When that huge, delicious slice of cream red velvet cake was placed before you on the table, you could only fork a few pathetic bites, and when Joshua offered you to try a spoonful from his warm apple pudding, you nearly squealed the word no as Jeonghan rolled your sore clit between his fingertips. The most egregious aspect to the entire daubable was that the boy stripped your orgasm from you at the very last second, like stopping a rollercoaster just before it tips over the downhill plummet.

“How was the ice cream?” Joshua asked him innocently.

You observed with horror as Jeonghan brought that sinful hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue against his two fingertips as though he were actually savouring a sweet and flavourful vanilla.

“Delicious.” He grinned, catching your mortified stupor from the corner of his eye. “I’d taste it again in a heartbeat, Shua.”

Dropping the slice of bread into a shallow bowl, you used the spatula to submerge it underneath the milk, egg and cinnamon mixture until it was completely coated. Then, you slid the bread onto your buttered frying pan to let its surfaces crisp and brown. Since you began utilizing the service granted by the Love Café, life at your depressing excuse for an apartment was becoming more bearable, though your ultimate goal would be to ditch the paper-thin walls and insult-spewing neighbours once money was no longer a prevalent issue. You were still insistent on supporting yourself too, if you could ever score a job.

You flipped the bread onto its opposite face, pressing it down with the spatula as the pan sizzled and the butter popped. A few days had passed since your last intimacy with Jeonghan, and the proof would have been stamped to your Love Card if the boy had actually written his initials like usual. The thing was, Jeonghan – who had always been so firm and unwavering on the rules of the café – was now skirting about the regulations as though they were optional. There were days when he didn’t even initial the card, but still delivered his transactions. In fact, you were almost positive that sex had happened more than twelve times and that you could be renewing your card if wanted (you didn’t).

As silly and cliché as it sounded, you liked Jeonghan. You constantly thought about him and missed him and wondered what he was doing while you were trapped in bed listening to another argument between your spiteful neighbours. There was always a deep, electric pounding in your chest upon weaving the tips of your fingers along his skin, touching him, exploring him. Yet, when he held you close, tucked your body tight against his like there was nothing surrounding you but ice, comfort found a home in your belly like a warm, homecooked meal.

After spilling some icing sugar and strawberries across the toast, now fried a delicious shade of golden-brown, you took a seat at the counter and dug in. There had been an occasion where Jeonghan brought you breakfast after warping your legs into complete gelatine (you had no idea that kitchen table sex could be so fiery and passionate), which proved to be a pleasant morning, where you could still feel the softness of his thumb as he kindly brushed some whipped cream from your bottom lip. You sighed, sticking a strawberry into your mouth. How foolish it might be to fall this far and this devotedly for someone like him.

But you didn’t want to stop yourself.

In fact, you reached for your phone across the counter, swiped into your messages, and decided to be bold. You texted him.

[  9:29 AM ]: Hey! I know that I’m not supposed to send you anything unrelated to our business lol, but

[9:29 AM ]: Just wondering if you’re available to grab a coffee with me or something along those lines?

Setting the phone down and turning it over so you wouldn’t be tempted to helplessly wait for a notification, you continued eating. After scraping the last few pieces of toast and syrup around the plate, there was a vibration and a quick, ding! Strangely, you were starting to sweat.

[ Jeonghan | 9:34 AM ]: Sorry. In a lecture rn.

Of course, your surge of bravery immediately dehydrated, and you decided it was best to pretend that you hadn’t asked him anything at all – for your confidence’s sake. The next two hours were spent cleaning the kitchen, taking a short walk outside the complex to feel the Northern air refresh your face, and finally, a long bath, in which you nearly fell asleep and drowned as the steam lulled your eyes shut. While wrapping your body snug in that new, hot pink bath towel, you heard a knock at the door. You assumed it was the painter who occupied the room directly below yours, as you had borrowed his vacuum the night before, though you weren’t exactly raving at the thought of answering him in a towel.

However, by squinting through the fisheye lens, you were shocked (and greatly relieved) to discover that it wasn’t the middle-aged painter dressed in his splattered, dirty overalls, but Jeonghan.

And he was holding a drink.

You unlocked the door.

“Uh, hello after all. What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you and held up the cardboard cup, “my lecture ended, and I thought I’d do you a solid. Couldn’t remember if it was two sugars-one cream, or two creams-one sugar. So I tossed a coin.”

“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.

“Heads,” Jeonghan answered, “two sugars-one cream it is.”

“You’re lucky that’s correct.”

Accepting the warm cup from his hand, you set it carefully on the kitchen counter. When you returned to the door, Jeonghan was evidently ogling you. He really suited the image of a casual university student when he wasn’t dressed to gems and jewels in his sumptuous clothing.

“I knew the hot pink towel would look good on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dropping it, so forget it.”

“Whoa,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t ask you to drop it, sweetheart. I’d rather you not actually, with this door wide open and everything.”

“Did I really just hear that from you, Mr, Dinner Table?” Folding your arms, you stared him down with an accusing expression.

He held up one finger in defense. “First of all, that was under the table, so unless someone bumped their fork or something, then we were pretty much safe. This is you dropping your whole towel right in the doorway like there isn’t a weirdo probably peeping you across the hall as we speak. And I’m not letting anyone look at you like that, ever.”

“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he couldn’t spot the flustered heart pumping your chest beneath the towel, “you’ve made your point.”

Jeonghan checked his silver wrist watch, “fuck. I gotta get going, need to be at the studio so I can be a taper dummy again.”

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”

Suddenly, the boy was cupping each side of your face in his hands, and his lips pressed soft but quick to your forehead. Jeonghan then pinched your thigh under the towel, a gesture which felt oddly endearing rather than sexual, before he left the corridor.

“Later!” He’d called.

Shutting the door, you returned to your seat at the counter, holding the coffee cup up to your mouth as you took a small, nervous sip.

How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?

Jeonghan’s washroom was somehow nicer than your entire apartment, and you were fairly certain that your eyes had never seen so much white-grey marble, all squeaky-clean and aglow with lights. He’d shot you a text roughly an hour ago, right after he was released from the painful effort required to keep Joshua’s peewee soccer players in check, wondering if you were available to come over. Of course, the innocence to the term ‘come over’ was nothing more than a euphemism, a means of sugar coating what Jeonghan actually intended: to be inside you no doubt. And since the boy was so drained and unwilling to instigate any work himself, Jeonghan decided that a steaming, hot bath should do.

Well – a bath which involved you seated on his dick. The tub was dark grey tile, square-shaped, and practically the size of a small jacuzzi. It even had a bench to sit on. While it had been difficult at first to simply cockwarm the boy – when all you could feel was how deeply he spearheaded into your sensitive spot and how this shock would ripple from your abdomen at even his gentlest movement– you knew he wasn’t looking to make things quick and temporary. Therefore, you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck while his circled your waist beneath the water. Both of you were starting to fall asleep.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder, only to remember that you were indeed naked and this heat lapping around you was definitely not a blanket, “can I tell you something?”

With his eyes still shut, he nodded, his fingers digging appreciatively at your hips. “Of course you can, baby.” He replied, his voice sounding deeper than usual as he orientated on the edges of sleep.

Smiling, you combed through the damp hairs at his nape, your voice reverberating like a musical instrument off the marble. “Remember the salon place? They called me two days ago, said they had an opening for me and that I could start next Monday. I… I wanted to text you about it, like, as soon as it happened. But I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“What? Really?” Jeonghan was staring at you now, his head straightened from its leisurely position against the edge of the tub and cocked with interest. The fact he seemed so intrigued, that you could read the genuine excitement building up in those brown eyes, had almost made you happier than the salon’s phone call. “Congratulations!” He leaned forward to kiss you, pecking your lips chastely the first time, and then slower come the second, his hands squeezing your thighs.

After a tiny laugh, you sighed contentedly. “Thank you. It’s going to be so nice having my own cashflow and everything. And if I can work my way up and become like, a kickass hair stylist? Can you imagine?”

“Should I grow my hair out more so you can practice cutting it? You’ve got a steady hand, don’t you?” Jeonghan asked, mostly teasing, as you could imagine his parents harping him during his next session at Opal Studio if he looked as though he’d ran through some hedge clippers.

Returning the affection, you kissed the rosy tip of his nose. “I think my hands are pretty steady. We’ll find out I guess, and we’ll know for sure if a huge chunk of your hair falls to the floor.”

Your laughter immediately mingled, and you hid your smile against the boy’s neck, a very moonstruck, loopy smile which felt like riding a blazing comet between the stars. If you were legitimately able to climb higher amongst the business, then you could picture a life in which you didn’t need to lean on Jeonghan and the Love Café for financial support. In fact, there were moments where you felt rather dirty using his money even when he was completely insistent on such matters, like buying food and paying off bills. You held tight to a certain hope, that you could become independent again, and maybe, just maybe, be able to keep this beautiful boy whom you once thought would hate you.

His fingers tapped up your spine, urging you to face him.

“Seriously,” Jeonghan said, “I’m happy for you.”

“I know,” you answered, so quietly he could hardly hear it.

And then, you decided to kiss Jeonghan, placing your damp hand upon his cheek while your mouths slotted together. The contact had lost its grace almost instantly, and the kiss turned from a sweet gesture to a sensuality so thick you could feel it swelter the air and pool between your legs. He offered his tongue for you to suckle by sliding it smoothly into your mouth, and from there, Jeonghan’s intended relaxation had vanished. His hands grazed to the front of your body, reaching up and sliding back and forth over each breast. It wasn’t until Jeonghan began massaging his thumbs in circular motions around your nipples that you moaned into his mouth, a sound which flicked a smirk to his face.

Once his lips were shiny and slick with your saliva, he moved each kiss down the side of your neck, now pinching at your nipples, even twisting gently and making sure to ease the dull throb by rubbing them afterward. It was becoming unbearable. You needed to move. However, the second you started a rhythm in Jeonghan’s lap, he shook his head.

“Be still,” he told you, lightly gripping your chin.

The desperation in your whine was horribly apparent, almost soaking each word. “No Jeonghan, I-I can’t do that anymore—” ignoring him, you continued to grind your hips and move the water around you, feeling his engorged head tick against that one spot of insane pleasure, “I need t’cum now, all over your cock.” With every bounce in his lap, you begged, “please, please, please.” This prompted Jeonghan to grab your waist much tighter than usual and slam you down, holding you still.

“No, not like that,” he grunted, and you wondered if his control was simply otherworldly or if he was just that talented at hiding how good he felt. “I’ll make you cum, sweetheart,” Jeonghan nodded, “but you can’t move. I just want you to sit there, all the way down.”

He then leaned in close to your face, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, and that’s when you felt his thumb brush with a featherlight, fleeting touch across your clit. The sudden stimulation jerked your body. Jeonghan bit his lip and grinned while continuing the sensitive touch, the pressure becoming heavier with each minute that passed. Your thighs started to tremble, and your moans were echoing around the washroom.

The honeyed dirty talk crawled up Jeonghan’s throat. “You’re such a cute little cocksleeve, sweetheart,” he purred, titling his head as he rubbed his thumb faster, “oh, look at you, baby. Shaking and crying and taking it like it’s the only thing you’re good for—” a messy kiss to calm you down, thin strings of saliva hanging in the air each time your mouths separated, “I bet you’re gonna cum for me soon, right?” The boy encouraged, keeping his forehead flush to yours so he could observe with utmost clarity the beautiful contortions of your face. “I know you are, sweetheart. Because it feels so good, right?” You nodded frantically, digging your fingers into his neck like a cat sinking in its claws. Jeonghan’s thumb pushed beneath the hood of your clit, directly massaging the soft bud, and the pleasure inside you leapt to a new high which made you dumbly lose all sense.

“Cum.” Jeonghan commanded so gently, his gaze burning against your eyes, squeezed shut. At the straightforward word, you allowed the sensation to swallow you like a current, and the hot, teary cry you mewled had been quickly snuffed as the boy pushed his lips to yours.

“Can feel you clenching so fucking tight around my cock,” he chuckled, digging his nose into your hair and speaking warmly beside your ear, “and how much you’re throbbing right under my thumb. Must feel so good, sweetheart, cumming all over me like such a good girl.”

You slumped against him, overwhelmed, emptied, and breathing so heavy that you were afraid the oxygen might dwindle completely from your lungs. The fact Jeonghan could remain so composed while buried to the hilt in your heat was something else that frightened you, though, in the moment, you preferred not to think about it, instead concentrating on the distant sensation of Jeonghan drawing galactic shapes to each your shoulder blades.

Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.

Once you started the receptionist job at the hair salon, you had bumped into Joshua on a Friday evening. While his platinum blonde look was indeed enchanting and princely, he complained that it was difficult to maintain the roots, and that he often found himself back in the stylist’s chair for a touch up. He’d come in on a whim. Luckily – due to the late hour – there was an open seat, and Joshua puffed a great sigh of relief as he hooked his jacket onto the salon coat hanger. Curious if there was more behind the reason to his abrupt appearance, you conversed with him while he waited for the stylist to tidy up her work area.

That’s when Joshua informed you of the Opal’s Galleria Night, a fashion exhibition which would display Mr. Yoon’s newest edition for his upcoming Spring line. Joshua seemed surprised that you hadn’t known about the Galleria, or, that Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned it to you. Oddly enough, Jeonghan had been radio silent the past three days; not a phone call, or a voice memo, or even a text. Yesterday you had hoped to catch him stuck in the books at the library, but the area where he usually sat was occupied by a study group of freshman. It concerned you a little.

An ungraceful quickie in the washroom after his three-hour lecture ended on Tuesday was your last encounter. Not to mention, there was only one more opening left on your Love Card.

“He didn’t say anything,” you told Joshua, pretending to act indifferent “so… I don’t think he wants me there. It’s not a big deal.”

Yet, that’s not how you truly felt. There had to be some reason for the boy’s keeping you in the dark. Did he not want to explain the ‘friends’ trope to all the Galleria members, like at the dinner? Or, was he thinking that you wouldn’t be interested? It wasn’t easy to seem unphased.

“Jeonghan doesn’t need to invite you,” Joshua had said, “cause I’ll invite you myself. Mr. Yoon said it was more than  fine if I brought someone along. So, why not you? It’ll make the night more fun.”

At first, you vehemently rejected the invite, no matter how sweetly Joshua attempted to rope you into a night of free perfume samples, delicious catering food and a chocolate fountain perfect for dipping strawberries. However, when the hair stylist pulled Joshua away to fix his darkening roots, you had much time to mull over the offer, and even the fact you felt poignant about dismissing it. As you tapped a pen against the desk, staring out the window into the grey, dulling sky, you convinced yourself there could be no harm in attending the Opal’s Galleria Night. Besides, you and Jeonghan weren’t cast in stone. He probably wouldn’t bat any eyelash anyways, knowing his eased nature.

And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.

You told him you’d changed your mind.

When Jeonghan first saw you at the Opal Galleria, it was from across the ballroom that had been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, stood next to a mannequin draped in a cherub-pink slip dress. Almost comically, he gagged on some sparkling champagne held in a thin and tall glass, though he recovered smoothly as to not interrupt the conversation his father was sharing with the dense crowd. You waved at him, not too noticeably of course, but he either didn’t catch it or had decided to ignore the gesture. Shrugging, you tried not to overthink it.

Mannequins were lined up along both sides of the ballroom, adorned in the mild tones baring semblance to Spring, with the blips of baby blues, clementine oranges, and cream violets transforming the Galleria into an acrylic painting. Jeonghan’s mother took the opportunity to offer some spritzes from her most recent line, which had both you and Joshua smelling like a tulip garden. While exploring the room with the blonde boy, you stopped to examine a mannequin dressed in a relaxed, high-waisted pant and a lace camisole that seemed breezy and flowing. This collection was definitely tamer compared to the usual extravagance you had always seen through the store windows and in magazines.

“Would you wear it?” Joshua asked, chewing on a strawberry that he might as well have plucked from thin air.

Tilting your head and squinting, you took a moment to contemplate. “If it was my size I might, if I could find a price hanging off somewhere. But I don’t want to even touch it. Mannequins are weird.”

“No prices are usually displayed at the Gallerias,” Joshua informed you, “though, I will agree. It’s probably a Toy Story thing where they all start moving at night when no one’s here. Spooky, huh?”

You sighed at him, “thanks for the nightmare material.”

Suddenly, there was a tap to your bare shoulder, and you nearly yelped like a cat with a stepped-on tail as Joshua laughed between bites from his juicy strawberry. Turning around, you were met with Jeonghan, who had this flat-lined, unenthusiastic smile hardly touching the corners of his mouth. He looked rather agitated in fact, and you felt cold inside.

“Hey!” Joshua exclaimed, punching his friend’s arm. “Finally escape your dad’s novella-length speech on the pink slip?”

The crowd once gathered around the mannequin had started to disperse, with the visitors now exploring the rest of the outfits.

Jeonghan hardly payed any mind to his friend, throwing out an impatient, “yeah, it was whatever,” before he began questioning you. He started with a rather inhospitable, “why are you here?”

“I invited her,” Joshua announced, “since I ran into her at that salon place. I thought it would be nice and everything. The Gallerias can get pretty stiff if you come alone. Plus, there’s chocolate fountains.”

He appeared nettled, like he’d woken up and spilled coffee on his favourite shirt. You couldn’t place the exact emotion, nor could you identify the reason behind Jeonghan acting as though there were one-hundred choice words waiting to zap off the tip of his tongue. For an instant, you wondered if it would be worthwhile to question him, though there was a shout of the boy’s name and you spotted his parents beckoning him over from across the exhibition. Jeonghan merely rolled his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as he’d arrived to accompany them.

You folded your arms concerningly. “Do you know if something’s wrong? I haven’t seen him like that before.”

Joshua dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. “He’s probably stressing over something. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s not really one to blow up or get all in your face. I’ll talk to him later.”

Seeing as there were others who wanted to examine the camisole mannequin, you and Joshua seated yourselves at a tiny table right beside the chocolate fountain and catering foods. Though, you were unable to quell the curiosity at what Jeonghan was needed for, prompting your eyes to wander as unnaturally as possible in his direction. He’d just pulled a young woman into a hug, and she was positively gorgeous, dressed in a silk-fabric dress, form fitting and ruby red, with an elegant slit parting up to her right thigh. Her ponytail was slicked shiny as though her hair had been styled professionally, and she flaunted a dreamy smile that reminded you of a vintage female heroine.

And then, like a slap to the face, you realized she must be the woman whom Jeonghan’s parents seemed to be obsessed over.

Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.

She mentioned something into his ear, and they became giggly, the two pulling in again for another short hug. Jeonghan’s father gestured back to the pink slip mannequin, and the four walked over to discuss it for the umpteenth time. You wondered if she was going to be modeling some of the clothing. The assumption felt correct as Baejin touched the dress’ delicate fabric and the beaded, glimmering string tied around the tiny waist. Quickly, Jeonghan fetched the girl a champagne glass, the two drinking together while the father appeared to be entering another in-depth explanation. And, perhaps dignifiedly so, you were feeling mislead and upset. You speculated if this could be the reason for him to keep the Opal Galleria a secret – Jeonghan didn’t want you to catch even a glimpse of him reuniting with Baejin.

They hardly portrayed two ex’s who were now settled on different chapters to their lives. The longer you stared, the angrier, yet, more confused you felt. As you thought before, the odd relationship between you and Jeonghan was not set in stone, and it certainly didn’t ignite with the intention of actual love taking a blossom to your doorstep. It could be that you were jumping to conclusions, misreading things, or disillusioned by your tendency to wishfully think. Nonetheless, the sight still hurt.

Joshua bumped your elbow.

“Are you hungry at all? The scent from the catering tables is getting to me. I can grab a plate for you, if you want.”

With a sigh and a fragile smile, you shook your head. “No, I’ll come with you. Besides, you don’t know what I like anyways.”

“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.

He stuck out his hand for you to take while rising from the chair.

Grabbing a small plate, you started at the end of the catering table and began making your way down, using the plastic tongs to serve yourself some spring rolls. Joshua filed after you, instead taking a bowl and scooping up some of the fresh zucchini pasta. Admittedly, you had lost your appetite after watching Jeonghan act so cordially with Baejin, though you were determined to not let the plight sour the otherwise enjoyable night you were having with Joshua. Once you reached the chocolate fountain, you swore a sparkle jumped into his eye.

“Why are you so obsessed with the fountain?” You had tried not to laugh as you asked the question.

The blonde boy looked aghast. “Because, it’s beautiful!” He picked up a strawberry arranged neatly around the base, dipping the edge briefly beneath the chocolate. “I mean, how can they make it so delicious and velvety? When I came to my first Galleria, I spent like, half my night just standing by the fountain, eating the fruit.”

You couldn’t help but think Joshua was adorable, and you grinned at him, “well, maybe I don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.”

“Just shush up and try this.”

He held out the strawberry, inviting you for a taste. At first, you paused, wondering if there was some flirtatious intention behind the gesture or if Joshua was just being his overtly kind self. And then, you held onto his wrist and took a bite from the strawberry, the warmth of the melted chocolate satin-smooth against your tongue.

Wiping the edge of your mouth, you nodded. “It is pretty tasty, actually. Let me try dipping it. You make it look weirdly fun.”

After setting down the catering plate, you took Joshua’s strawberry while he picked up a new one. Together, you pushed your fruits beneath the streaming chocolate, twisting it at the green leaf to fully coat the sides. So it wouldn’t drip, you immediately took a huge bite with a hand placed just below your mouth, humming contentedly.

“Okay,” you mumbled, still chewing, “I can see why you like this so much. I think I could get addicted to chocolate strawberry dipping.”

“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, “oh! Look, there’s whipped cream here and I didn’t even see it!” He set down his plate beside yours and grabbed the bottle like an eager little child. Popping off the cap, Joshua shook the can and pressed his fingertip against the nozzle, spraying a white-frosted peak onto the top of another strawberry. You copied him, though you had accidently sprayed too much. Once you licked the cream off your finger, you poked the entire fruit into your mouth like a funfetti-sized cupcake. For some reason, Joshua started giggling at you.

“What?” You glared at him playfully. “What’s wrong?”

Rosy tinges flushed to the arch of Joshua’s cheeks. “Uhm… Well, l-let me just—” he stuttered, cupping his hand gently to your face, his thumb brushing at a spot right below your bottom lip. “You had some whipped cream on your… chin slash lip. Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh, it’s okay.” You were stumbling yourself, tongue darting out instinctively to ensure there wasn’t anything still there.

At random, you felt this prickle tiptoe up the back of your neck, a sensation that was hardly perceptible yet singeing enough for you to notice it. Gulping, you peered toward that faceless mannequin draped in its pink slip dress, toward Jeonghan, Baejin, and his parents who were enthralled in a conversation with her. Jeonghan was glaring so blatantly at Joshua that you’d forgotten how to speak, and you couldn’t even pronounce a single word of warning as the boy started storming his way across the ballroom.

His grip was on your elbow like a viper’s teeth.

“Geez, where’d you come from?” Joshua said, though he was  able to note the tension this time, and Jeonghan’s surly behaviour.

“I need to talk to you,” Jeonghan murmured by your ear, ignoring Joshua yet again, “in the hall just outside the exhibition.”

You didn’t want to agree. Strangely enough, you felt this urge balloon inside you, an urge to cause a gigantic scene with screaming and thick tears and unnecessary curses, because as much as you wanted to dismiss your anger, there were jealous, wronged feelings inside, on fire and itching to escape from your gut. Miraculously, you held your composure, and announced to Joshua that you’d talk to him later.

Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.

It was like a lightning bolt, how quickly he exploded.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeonghan ranted, pacing back and forth as the distant echo of music bled through the wall. “Seriously, I don’t text you back for like, three days, and you’re already going on a date with my best friend—” he softened his voice in a purposefully mocking way, “letting him get all delicate with you, feeding you all lovey-dovey style and wiping that cream off your lip. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”

“Excuse me?” Your brow instantly creased like a folded map, and you felt an intense ache hit the front of your skull. “Um, you’re one to talk! How come you didn’t tell me about the Galleria? Because you didn’t want me to see you with your arm around your ex’s waist? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to show off to your parents?”

Jeonghan gawked at you. “Baejin? For real? You think I’ve been secretly dating her behind your back or something?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You barked, tucking your arms defensively across the chest. And, while it might have been too early into the argument to pit such a statement, you had already started bubbling, and you knew there was nothing to snuff your fire. “Besides, you hardly ever get back to me apart from when you want to fuck!”

At that, the boy was momentarily stumped. What sounded like a rebuttal fizzled at the back of his throat, though it faded away. The silence worried you, because it echoed a confirmation that Jeonghan might’ve actually never seen as you as anything more than an outlet to alleviate his carnality. That, once the Love Café ordeal was finally over with, he could forget you had ever existed like erasing a mistake of smudged lead. The thought made you glassy-eyed and thus, terribly vulnerable. However, you also craved the truth to your relationship.

“Just admit it,” you beseeched him, “admit that you want me only for sex and nothing else. Is that why you didn’t bring up the Galleria? Because you think it’s easier to shove me in the dark when it’s convenient for you? Is that why you were acting so mad?”

He skimmed a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not dating Baejin behind your back, I have never once thought you weren’t good enough to show off to my parents, and I didn’t purposefully hide the Galleria from you.”

“Right,” you scoffed, “but you’re fine with labelling me as a friend and pretending like we don’t hook up every week.”

“It’s…” he clenched his teeth and growled in frustration, “it’s complicated, alright? Can’t you just accept that?”

“Complicated?” A shudder coursed down your spine at having to repeat the boy, and the tears sprung from your eyes with such a sharp sting that it became impossible to hold them back. You felt each drop, cold and runny, drip along your face. “That’s the word you’re going to use? You’re going to look straight at me, after the entire span of our relationship since the Love Café, and tell me we’re summed up best as complicated?” Again, the word struck you like a stiff punch. If he was going to regard your connection so trivially, then you didn’t care whether or not he knew the verity of your heart. Like it would affect him anyways.

“I would’ve said we were in love,” you shrugged, watching his expression drop in a mere instant, “but—sure, let’s call it complicated.”

And, with the tears shining like salt stars on your face, you stalked out the building into the softening winter weather.

You didn’t know it could be so difficult to ignore someone, especially when you were supposed to hate them. The effect Jeonghan had on you was almost phantom-like; a constant lingering, even if the boy himself wasn’t palpable and poised right before your eyes.

It had been three days since the outburst at the Galleria. That night, you cried, and wept, and broke out the amber bottle stored beneath your sink which was only sipped from in occasions of complete misery – very well suited to the situation at hand. You had questioned calling the Love Café’s customer service desk to issue a termination of your card, and, at one point, you were standing drunkenly by the toilet contemplating your decision to rip up the red paper and flush it. Though, nothing ever came of either idea. Instead, you faceplanted onto your bed and allowed the intoxicated dizziness to fade black. The next morning, you were faced with multiple texts from Jeonghan, missed phone calls, voice notes. But you didn’t listen or respond to anything.

Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.

Absolutely not, you had thought that morning, you weren’t ready to speak with him, even if the temptation seemed like it could be promising. The air was still too bitter. And you couldn’t handle another argument.

On the second day after the outburst, you were seated at the receptionist desk in the salon, flicking through a magazine while you became increasingly mindless to the humming of the blow dryer and the potent fragrance of the hair products. When you glanced out the window, you nearly combusted, as both Joshua and Jeonghan were about to enter the salon together, hurrying in from the melted snow and winter’s final downpour. You hid in the breakroom until they left, forcing your co-worker to take your position at the desk. Joshua was apparently getting his hair trimmed while Jeonghan had asked about you at the reception.

“He’s gorgeous!” Your co-worker had immediately gushed to you in the breakroom. “Why are you avoiding someone like that?”

“It’s complicated.” You’d phrased it simply.

Dang it. You hated the fact you’d used that stupid word.

But, on the third day, most of your bitterness was gone.

After breakfast, you were back at the vanity mirror to prepare for work, and while you buffed some makeup to sit seamlessly on the skin with your puffy foundation brush, there was a knock at your door. This time, you didn’t bother peeping through the fisheye lens, because you knew exactly who it was – damn his persistence. Jeonghan’s brown hair had been slightly mused in the wind, and there was a glow as soft as a peach to each his cheeks. But that easygoing, relaxed smile was by far the most heart fluttering. He extended a coffee cup to you. When you reached out, Jeonghan suddenly pulled the coffee away with a tsking sound.

“You can have it only if—” he held up his finger, “you agree to let me in so I can explain myself. Yes, I’m bribing you. And yes, I’m an asshole from time to time. But five minutes at least. That’s all I need.”

For a moment, you wavered, only to mutter a resounding, “fine.”

Despite Jeonghan’s company, you still had work to get ready for, so the boy followed you into the bedroom. He took a seat on the edge of your mattress while you settled back into the vanity chair. Picking through your jar of makeup brushes, you plucked a round, oval-tipped one to apply your eyeshadow. Jeonghan was silent at first, watching you through the mirror as you hurried about the look. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was a bit sloppy and rushed and there was already some fallout  sitting like a glittered dust on your cheeks, though Jeonghan was staring at you with such fondness, you wondered if the mirror was reflecting the same image. Of course, the Love Card was sitting on your desk too.

“Well,”  you spun around in the chair, pressing your lips together, “I’m waiting for you to explain, y’know. Like you said you would. Technically, you’ve lost a couple minutes, and I should really try to be at the salon early, but I’m still going to give you full time since—"

“I love you.”

“… What?”

“I love you,” Jeonghan repeated himself casually, a slow smile spilling from each corner of his mouth, “I’m in love with you, as deep as I could be, I think. Anyways, you want me to keep saying it? I love you.”

It felt like someone had taken a picture with the blinding glare of its flash, a picture you couldn’t be more unprepared for, the dots still dancing and fumbling across your vision. The moment was disorienting, but you experienced a very fulgurant warmth take shape inside you. It was comforting yet daunting, a sugar rush and a hangover, something so alive you knew you wanted it more than anything else in the world.

Yet, “you… are in love with me?” was all that you could express.

Jeonghan fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re a funny girl, you know that? But I can say it a fifth time if you want.”

“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”

“Yeah, I can see that, “ he’d laughed, though it quickly fell into a sigh and suddenly Jeonghan’s temperament had shifted. “Look, I know that night wasn’t pretty. I know I ghosted you. I know I didn’t tell you about the stupid Galleria,” the boy glanced up, catching your eye, “but… I didn’t say anything because I was confused. I knew your Love Card only had one signature left, and just like that… you could be in my bed for the last time. If we’re really gonna get sentimental about it,”

Jeonghan chuckled, scratching his chin a bit shyly, “it could be my last time holding you, and kissing you… I just, I didn’t want it to be like that. But I didn’t know how to confront you about it, so I hid. And I stressed myself out, and I got so stupidly jealous and angry when I saw you with Joshua. That was my bad. I should’ve been upfront.”

Tucking your hands together anxiously in your lap, you nodded, beginning to understand the missing pieces.

“Thank you for saying that.” You murmured, tapping your feet in a nervous rhythm against the floor. “I… I was being unreasonable and jealous too,” you subsequently admitted, “I was assuming things about you and Baejin when I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was expecting anyways, that you act like she doesn’t exist? It was dumb, and I was adding pressure. I’m sorry too.” Wanting to lighten the tone, you smiled at him, “I guess we both have our flaws, huh?”

He returned the tender glance and held out the coffee cup.

“I guess we do.”

You grabbed it politely.

Turning around in the chair, you grabbed the bright red Love Card off the vanity, initialed until its last circle, “what should we do with this? I mean, we kind of messed up their rules, fooling around more than twelve times. And, well, I’m not gonna renew it.”

“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.

As soon as you passed the card to him, he ripped it clean in half, crumpled each piece, balled them together in his hands and tossed the shreds into the trash can sat in the corner.

“Well, that was fucking easy,” he smiled, getting up from the mattress, “aren’t you late for work? Do you need a drive?”

You looked at your alarm clock.

“If you can get me there in the next ten minutes, that’d be great.”

Jeonghan headed to the front door while you hurriedly grabbed your coat from the closet and snatched your bag off the floor, resting the strap over your shoulder. With the coffee still in hand, you headed into the living area, looking around in one final swoop to make sure you had everything packed for the day. A sheet of sunlight spilt into the room from outside the window, pale, like the morning sky, yet filling every crevice of the cheap apartment with a dull shine. And for a very fleeting moment, you thought this place wasn’t so abhorrent. It had been your home, your stepping stone, a thumbprint which identified a period of hardship and growth. But, despite this bittersweet taste on your tongue, you couldn’t envision yourself staying.

“Come on,” Jeonghan pinched your hip, “at this rate I’ll get a speeding ticket trying to get you to work on time.”

Turning around, you stuck a kiss to the boy’s cheek, just catching the cool beginning of a smirk on that dazzling face of his as you interlaced your fingers and pulled him into the corridor.

No, you could not stay here.

Not when your future was with Jeonghan.

✧✎ a/n: yeah, so this was clearly A LOT longer than the original love café teehee. i remembered the plot vaguely therefore i refused to reread my first version weufhewif PLS IT MAKES ME CONVULSE SO BAD !! i just had to rewrite the plot and do it some actual justice! i hope this version is a lot better and that you rly enjoyed it! i wish yjh would give me money but i guess we can’t all live in a fantasy world!! thx for reading!!

[omgreally]

I’ve been reading mandos intergalactic taxi service and UGH✨💕 the pining and fluff with the intimacy smut is just chefs kiss your writing style is amazing🤌🏽✨ I’ve been in such a Din mood lately, could your write like a confession drabble where the reader and din are pining for each other and din is dropping hints but the reader is like really not a hint taker lol pretty please with a cherry on top 😭💕 smut or fluff your choice I know you’d write it so well!!

BLESS YOUR HEART @liltangerineart and thank you! Next chapter of Taxi Service should be up tomorrow I hope!

In the meantime I hope you like this? Not a confession as such and more, uh, top!Mando than I intended, but he is bad at dropping hints. I like to think he would be very...straightforward 😎

Din Djarin/F!Reader - E - 1624 words - Oblivious!Reader, Infatuated!Din, frustrated yearning, angst and, of course, smut.

It's getting ridiculous.

He is a Mandalorian, one of the most fabled, the most feared warriors in the galaxy. Rumour and danger follow him as he charts a path through the galaxy that blazes bright, leaving behind myth and legend - people whispering things like 'I heard he killed a whole troop with his hands tied' and 'I heard he was eight feet tall, made of steel'.

He is a Mandalorian, who has never had to rely on anybody but himself - and yet here he is, sweating beneath his cowl whenever you brush too close, trying too hard to inhale the scent of you through his helmet's filters, memorizing the sound of your laugh.

It's like he's a foundling again - uncertain, insecure, nervous. And they’re not butterflies in the pit of his stomach - they’re bullets from an ancient slugthrower weapon, and he can taste metal at the back of his tongue whenever he tries to talk to you.

“Do you have someone, back home?” A clumsy overture, as obvious as it is stupid; Din winces beneath the helm but you don’t seem to notice - you just shake your head and shrug.

“No. Just me. I wouldn’t have left otherwise.” Loyal, he thinks, and the bullets in his stomach sting just that little bit harder.

He tries asking you more about yourself. How you became a bounty hunter. How many weapons you’ve handled. The different kinds of ships you’ve flown. Places you’ve been. But you never give up anything truly personal about yourself - you’re a cypher.

Maybe that’s why the Mandalorian finds himself strangely drawn to you.

He doesn’t know how to navigate this - not really. He has no experience with this kind of thing. It’s always been about the next quarry, the next job, and then it was about the kid, and now…

And now he’s stuck.

He wants to hit something, break something, feel the impact of his fists against flesh and bone. He settles for balling them up whenever you’re around, biting his tongue, and waiting til later to jerk himself off in pathetic, clench-jawed silence in the refresher.

“You slept late,” you point out the next morning as he emerges, stiff in more than one way, from his bunk.

“Couldn’t sleep last night,” he says, and he’s so tired, so frustrated that he adds, gruffly: “Bed was too empty.”

“Probably need more pillows,” you muse as you wander off to the kitchenette. “Cup of caf?”

“Extra strong,” he grunts as he leans a shoulder to the wall, and you’re oblivious to his glower.

“Coming right up.” A minute later, you press a mug into his hand. “I’ll leave you to it. No need to go hide, I’ll go find a bulkhead to look at while you take your helmet off.”

You grin at him, and he stares at you. You’re just about to turn away when he reaches up, and you go still, your smile slackening in shock as he thumbs the release latch under his chin.

The helm’s pneumatic seal hisses as it lifts, just enough so he can get the rim of his mug up and to his lips. He takes a long, slow pull, and while his vision is eclipsed by the rim of the helmet at the moment, he knows you haven’t left.

As he expects, you’re still there - staring at him as he lowers his helm back into place. Your mouth is even slightly open - lips parted - and he watches the dart of your tongue as you wet them before swallowing hard.

“I’m just...I’m just gonna,” you say, abortingly, and start to back away. You jump as your shoulder hits the hatchway. Din watches as you turn, hesitate, then hurry away, your shoulders squared defensively as if you can feel the force of his gaze on your back.

Alone, the taste of caf hot and bitter on his tongue, Din Djarin grins.

After that, he starts to notice. He starts to notice how tense you are when he’s close.

At first he’s not sure - but then, once, he deliberately brushes your waist as he moves past you in the cockpit to take the pilot’s seat, and you’re still standing there, frozen, when he glances back at you. You brush it off, but it happens again when you bump into him coming out of the fresher. When he reaches over your head in the kitchenette to fetch a ration bar from a compartment. When you lean over his shoulder to point out the coordinates to a refueling station. When he catches you yawning, falling asleep in the passenger’s seat.

“I’m going to hit my bunk,” you say, rising to your feet, your arms stretched above your head. Din turns slowly, and he catches the glimpse of a sliver of flesh as your shirt rides up. The words escape him before he’s even conscious of their existence.

“Want some company?”

Dank farrik, he’s been dropping hints and touches for ages - and he knows you’re affected by his presence, he’s sure of it now. They might be closer to butterflies for you, but his bullets are bouncing around in his gut right now.

“What?” you ask, half-laughing - as if it’s all some grand joke. “You gotta stop with the innuendo, Mando. I might get the wrong idea.”

“And if it’s not innuendo?” He’s flicked the ship to auto-pilot - on his feet - looming towards you. You’re caught in the hatchway, unable to step backwards to fall down the ladder, unwilling to turn your back. "If you've got the right idea?"

“What?” you repeat - licking your lips again. Your eyes are flicking back and forth from his visor to his hands. It’s almost like you're expecting a fight.

“I want to fuck you.”

The words are matter-of-fact but delivered in a low baritone, a gravelly rasp that lifts the hairs on the back of your neck. You stop breathing for a second - he can see it - and your leg twitches, just half a step backward - but then you swing it forward again, swaying towards him. Like he has you in his gravitational pull.

It’s all Din needs. He closes the distance between you, his gloved hands closing around your biceps, the leather worn and warm through your shirt.

He says your name, once, in a digital growl that curls your toes in your boots. And then it’s like an explosion - it all happens so quickly; there are hands and clothes everywhere and then on the deck, and in the aftermath you are in the Mandalorian’s arms, naked, your legs around his waist as he presses you up against the bulkhead.

His chestplate hits the deck - his flak jacket lifted above his head when you let him stop touching you long enough. You barely have time to appreciate the feel of his naked hands on your skin, cupping your breasts in his broad, smooth palms, thumbing your nipples all-too-briefly before he’s sliding down the zipper of his flight suit and baring a V of muscled flesh all the way to his groin.

“Mando,” you gasp as he frees his cock, as he maneuvers the throbbing, purpled head to drag through your slit. He finds you open and wet, lips parted for him, and he groans as he nudges against your fluttering hole. He doesn't hesitate.

He pushes in slow, for he’s a lot to take, thick and hard and the stretch is almost too much. You whine, your voice high and tight in your throat, and he soothes you with soft little noises and praise that makes you feel light-headed.

“Shhh, that’s it,” “You’re so fucking tight-” “Made to take my cock, mesh’la" and other words you don’t recognize. Eventually, he’s all the way inside you, his pelvis flush to yours, the scratch of hair at his pubic bone pressing into your mound.

You pant in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, a thin resin of sweat risen on your brow. “Move,” you order through clenched teeth, and finally you open your eyes to meet his visor and demand, “Fuck me, Mando.”

And he does - withdrawing his hips from the welcoming cradle of yours, his cock dragging back through you, and you can feel every ridge and vein before he’s spearing back in, jarring your back against the bulkhead. It’s a shock right through your system, and you can feel adrenaline flooding your veins, your blood pumping faster like you’re fighting for your life. You might as well be, for he does it again, and again, and soon he’s setting a punishing pace that hits against something soft and devastating deep inside you.

Your orgasm hits you like a blow you fail to dodge - winding you, knocking the air from your lungs - and for a moment all that matters is the blinding flash of pleasure through your nerves, the rolling wave that makes your cunt flutter in rippling spasms around the pulsing rod of his cock. He pins your hips with another vicious rut of his hips and then he’s coming, too, releasing into the impossible grip of your body, groaning with every spurt of spend he fills you with.

“Fuck,” Din summarizes, once you both can catch your breath - once your legs start to loosen, jelly-weak as he pulls out gently, lowering your feet back to the ground. He’s suddenly nervous - worried he’s fucked this up, done the wrong thing, lost patience and paid for it with your scorn.

But your smile is brilliant as you beam up at him - your face radiant - flushed and sweaty. You are beautiful.

“Next time, don't waste time dropping hints,” you tell him, and then you reassure him with a laugh, and the wonderful feeling of your arms around his neck.

For a while, he just holds you close. And for a while, the bullets in his stomach are gone.

[haikyuu-sins]

Hiiii sweetie I love your Law writings so much! Oh this sounds like your others are bad, no I didn't mean to say that! I'm sure your others are good too, I just didn't read them yet because I'm Law obsessed lately. Anyways, could I request something? It's actually my first time to request something so I hope I did it right??? I'm sorry if I didn't. Coming back to the request, could you do something like Law x reader (preferably female but gn would be okay too though so everyone can relate!) being kinda close to each other and always teasing each other (she is a Strawhat member) and he is deeply in love with her but his heart breaks seeing her hugging a guy of her crew? Like he knows she's a cutiepie and loves hugging her friends but he just gets so jealous seeing her with Zoro or whoever and his mood changes and he distances himself from her, leaving her all confused because he thinks it's impossible for her to like him when it's so much more likely and also practical to date someone of her crew. But then she asks him about him being so weird and cold lately and he kind of let's everything out and confesses? I'm so sorry if this is too long or complicated, ignore it if that's the case! Sending lots of love to you from Germany! <3

Oh my freaking goodness you’re so sweet! I’m glad you enjoy all of my Law writings as much as I love writing for him! Don’t even worry, you don’t have to read my other’s if you don’t want to, if it’s just Law you wanna read the go right ahead! :) GERMANY?! I have people reading my works in GERMANY?! It always baffles me when I get asks that say they’re from another country because I forget that not everyone is going to live near me. Thank you for all the love all the way from Germany! ❤️

Warnings: None, other than some swearing here and there, not proofread in the slightest.

****Law x Strawhat!Reader

He hated it. There was nothing more that Law hated right now was seeing you draped over Zoro’s back while you watched something over his shoulder. He was stupid to think that you wouldn’t have a close relationship with them, of course you would. Law could only grit his teeth and endure it. It wasn’t like the two of you were in a relationship, he couldn’t tell you to stop.

Law actually could think of something he hated more. It was the fact that Zoro didn’t seem to mind, not in the slightest. It was like this was a daily occurrence for him and it was something he was used to. Part of him wanted to see the marimo push you off and act annoyed. But something told him that even then, you wouldn’t care and would simply do it again.

“Hey Law! Come look at what Usopp made-!” you slid off of Zoro’s back and turned around with a smile, hoping to see the other swordsman you had seen just a moment ago. Your sweet smile turned into a frown, then a pout when you realized he wasn’t there anymore. ‘Where did he go?’ You thought to yourself as you looked around the deck.

You knew that the other captain was a bit more reclusive than you’d like since you enjoyed being around him and it never seemed like he wanted to be around the rest of the crew-probably because most of the crew was so boisturious and loud and Law was, well...the opposite of boisturious and loud.

It didn’t take you long to find him. “You left us!” you say to him, playfully feigning like you were upset as you crossed your arms. “How rude!”

“And for a reason.” he simply responded back, not even looking at you while he did.

“Sorry, were we being too loud?” you chuckled and smiled. “You’re gonna have to get used to that on this ship while you’re here with us.”

Am I going to have to get used to seeing you all over your crew as well? Law kept his thoughts to himself while he opted not to give you another response.

“Um...I’ll just…” you pointed back to Zoro and the others, leaving him to be by himself since that’s what you thought he wanted. It was the opposite. He wanted to be around you, but he just couldn’t stand seeing you so close to them as well. As much as he wished that was him, he’d never say it aloud.

It was something that you had been noticing the past few days. The two of you got along great when you were on Punk Hazard together, so what was different now? You felt more comfortable since you were on your own ship and maybe that was it. There weren't any battles happening and everyone was quite lax...so shouldn’t it be the opposite? Shouldn’t he be more relaxed now that he knew he was safe? Or was that even it? You weren’t sure.

It took you a few days to finally approach him about it. You noticed that every time you he was around you and then when you went over to your crew mates, he’d be gone before you even turned back around.

The crew was inside eating and Law had finished first, opting to go outside in the quiet after he was done. You soon followed after you were done and left the loud dining room to find him. It wasn’t difficult since there was only a limited area outside on the deck.

“Don’t like how loud it is in there?” you chuckled as you walked up to the railing next to him. “I’m not sure how long you’ll stay with us, but you get used to it, you actually tend to enjoy it after a while and when it’s quiet, you feel a little weird.”

“I don’t think I’ll be getting used to Mugiwara-ya anytime soon and I don’t know how you deal with…” Luffy’s loud shriek was heard in the distance and Law’s face scrunched up, “that.”

You only laugh at the other captain, “I take it your crew isn’t like this then?”

He rolled his eyes and almost cringed at the thought. “No. They are. I just choose to ignore it most of the time.”

“And does that work?”

He answered almost immediately, “Never.”

You laughed again and Law felt like his breath almost caught in his throat. It was something he would be able to listen to over and over again and never get sick of-unlike your captain.

“I wanted to ask you something too…” your fingers tapped the railing and traced the design of the wood. “Are you okay? Or did I do something wrong? I thought we were getting along really well and lately it feels like you’ve been more distant for some reason. I just...I like talking to you and I thought you did too. We’ll be in the middle of a conversation and I’ll turn to talk to someone and then when I turn back to talk to you again, you’re gone. But maybe I just misinterpreted it and you didn’t want to talk to me in the first place.” you let out an almost pitiful sounding laugh, along with a sad smile.

Fuck...That wasn’t the reason in the slightest and he hated that he made you think that it was your fault he was just a little jealous of your crew mates that you live with.

“No.. that’s not it…” he sighed to himself, feeling guilty that he had made you feel that way. He was fighting with himself internally. Do I say something to them or not? He knew that there wouldn’t be much of a relationship since the two of you were on separate crews. Pair that with the fact that he doesn’t even know if he’ll survive this attack on Doflamingo.

Law wouldn’t want to get your hopes up about anything if you felt the same way about him. At the same time, this could possibly be one of his only chances to tell you how he felt. All he could think about was embarrassing himself. From the first time he saw you on Sabaody, he knew that there was something about you because of the way you never left his mind since then.

It was a stroke of luck that you managed to see him again on Punk Hazard. Since you were relatively new to the crew at that time, you still hadn’t bonded with anyone in particular so he never saw you acting like you do now with them.

You raised your brow in an attempt to get him to continue with what he was trying to say. “Then what is it?” you ask him slowly. “If you don’t want to say anything, that’s fine I guess. As long as I’m not doing anything to make you mad or hate me.”

“I’m not mad at you. I don’t hate you either.” he paused for a moment, gritting his teeth together. Law couldn’t believe that he was even doing this to himself. “Quite the opposite actually…”

Your brow raised again in slight confusion. “Oh?” you hesitated, the thought registering in your head about what he meant. You knew he wasn’t exactly the person who would let his feelings gush out. A small smile slipped out and you tried your best not to smirk.. “Ooh~ I see.” you drug your words out slowly.

As Law went to open his mouth, whether to object to what you were saying-even though he wasn’t-or let you know that you were right, he didn’t get to say anything before your Captain burst onto the deck.

“Y/N-chaaan!!! Come play with us!!” and you couldn’t even object or tell Luffy that you would be there in a minute when a long arm stretched out to grab you. It wrapped around your waist and you before it was able to yank you away from Law, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and planted your lips firmly on his.

“I’m glad you don’t hate me~” you grin as you pull away, not because you want to but because you’re being forced away by Luffy.

Law could feel his cheeks heat up from the sudden kiss and all he wanted to do was grab his hat and pull it over his face. But then he would’ve missed seeing your smile as you notice just how flustered you made him. He wouldn’t mind being a little embarrassed if he gets to see your smile every time.

[btssaysstudy]

Cheer || jjk.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader Genre: fluff, cheerleader!yn x athlete!jk (requested by anon) Warning(s): minor swearing, alcohol, drinking games mentioned, college after game parties, reader is a cheer athlete, jungkook plays rugby, stress from expectations WC: ~9.9k (this is the longest I've ever written I hope it doesn't flop!!) Summary: You felt that your cheer team was under-appreciated by certain people — specifically the rugby team that your cheer team supports during their matches. How is it that their star player, Jeon Jungkook, manages to find his way into your life despite having a bad impression of the rugby players? Update (6/8): Made an edit

You always loved being in a team. That would explain why you were where you were. Standing on the mat in the indoor gym with your cheer team on a Friday night. Cheer was beyond exhausting, but you still loved doing it, especially with the team that you got in college. Your coach - a perfectionist - always drilled you guys over the minute details. That would also explain why you were still practicing for something so ‘trivial’ - your opinion, not your coach’s.

Your team was practicing the routine for the rugby team’s qualifying match on Monday. It was a simple routine - as always. Your team didn’t do championship level routines during such events, you were all just there as moral support and being the hype people for the team. All you had to do was cheer with your pom poms, throw in a couple of stunts and the crowd would go wild.

But every event was a chance to get better, to get closer to perfect, according to your coach. And you did not disagree. You just never looked forward to cheering for the rugby team even after all the events. Despite your team always cheering for the football club, you could say you disliked most of them. It always felt as though they didn’t appreciate the moral support and took you guys for granted.

“Might want to look happy, yn.” You heard a playful remark from behind. Jimin, your most trusted base.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Just don’t drop me.”

There was no way you could pull off your stunts if you didn’t have trust in your teammates. And you could say you trusted Jimin with your life - literally. Accidents and mistakes were bound to happen but there was no doubt that you’d be down to try for anything if Jimin was your base.

Not only was Jimin a trustworthy base, but he was also an amazing stunter. His physique was perfect to be an in between, he could pull off both roles. That almost guaranteed him a spot on the mat every time. He was extremely hardworking as well and you’ll always be proud of your best friend making mat. Of course, you wanted to make mat just as badly as the next person.

Last season, you did not make mat and it crushed you. Jimin was there to get you out of your rut and encouraged you to bounce back stronger. Thanks to him, you managed to pick yourself up and train harder for the upcoming nationals. You had never been more determined to make mat.

“Point your toes, I want my flyers looking really perfect.” Your coach yelled over the music. Your coach was a beast, but an effective one, nonetheless. Your team won nationals last season and ready to bag this season as well.

“Alright, that’s all for today. Clean the place up and you guys can go home. Thanks everybody!” Your coach clapped their hands and the team followed suit as everyone got up from the mat and started tidying the place.

“Need a lift?”

“Yes please, you’re the best!” You pulled Jimin in for a tight hug, “Okay, you do this then!” Jimin handed you the empty bottles that he picked up from the ground as he headed off the change first.

You grumbled but took his place in defeat.

—

Big smiles were plastered on your faces as you congratulated the winning team - your college. You best friend nudged you while you waved the team goodbye as they passed by. “Coming to the after party?”

“Wouldn’t miss the free drinks and snacks.”

Jimin snorted, “Obviously.”

Though you did say that it felt like the cheer team was under appreciated, you were always invited to the after parties. Most of you went, mainly for the free drinks and snacks.

You flashed two thumbs up with Jimin as Yoongi passed by. A small smile on his face as he slightly bowed his heads in your direction, acknowledging your cheers.

Through all the after parties, you have been acquainted with one of their star players - Min Yoongi. He was one of the few who hung out in the kitchen to avoid all the party games and the crowd in the general. He disliked the unnecessary glamour and attention that came along with joining the rugby club. You admired his passion for rugby and along with Jimin, the three of you became the trio who hid away from the crowd during the parties.

After the debrief with our coach, your team dispersed to your own places to freshen up for the after party. It was a Friday night, and a good night of drinking was warranted after a tiring week.

You were all lucky your coach was not strict regarding such parties, as long as everyone turned up ready for the following practice.

“Glad to see faces I actually like.” Yoongi commented, handing you two drinks he had already prepared. “You make it sound like you hate everyone on your team.”

“I would say a good majority. I’m actually jealous that your cheer team is so close knit.”

Jimin nudged you after you downed your shot, “Without trust, our stunts won’t fly.”

You nodded your head in agreement, “Probably should get my team to watch your practices to learn a thing about team spirit.” Yoongi scoffed, mostly to himself, knowing that realistically, it would never happen.

The three of you turned your attention to the living room, watching Yoongi’s teammates either play beer pong or trying to find their fling for the night.

“They’re skilled, no doubt. But most of them are here for the popularity. It’s rare to find someone who genuinely likes football too.” Yoongi ranted as you poured himself another shot.

“Is there not a single soul?” Jimin asked, feeling a tinge of pity for his friend who was not experiencing the same level of love for his team as Jimin did for the cheer team.

Yoongi’s eyes scanned across the room, slowly shaking his head before his eyes landed on someone. “Actually, there is— Jungkook!” He raised his hand, shouting over the loud music as he tried to get someone’s attention.

You turned your head to see Jungkook approaching your group. “Jungkook? Really?” You questioned Yoongi. Jungkook was one of the star players as well. It was impossible not to know Jungkook. You could walk down any corridor in campus, and you would hear someone mention his name at least once.

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted Yoongi before his eyes shifted to yours and Jimin’s. “What’s going on?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders, “Just wanted to introduce you to some of the members from cheer.”

“From cheer, huh?” The corner of his lips tugged upwards as his eyes went back to you.

“I figured you won’t recognise us, even though we’ve been at your parties since, well… Basically here every party.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but it just came out from you. You heard Jimin chuckle from beside you as he draped his arms over you.

“Sorry bud, yn here doesn’t have a good impression of you guys.”

“It’s not like you have a better one.” You bit back at Jimin who just stuck out his tongue at you. “That is true,” He pulled away as he took a drink, “We were actually just bitching about you guys with Yoongi.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in bewilderment, yet he felt amused enough to stay and find out more. “Is that so, Yoongi?”

His teammate nodded his head nonchalantly, “Just sharing the truth. About how most of them are here to be popular. I called you because I know you’re one of the few who actually joined for rugby.”

Jungkook huffed out an amused hum, “Interesting. What are your names again?”

“Yn and Jimin.” Jimin instantly replied, knowing you were probably going to reply with a snarky comment. “Part of the cheer team, like Yoongi said. She’s mainly a flyer and I’m a base and tumbler.”

You watched as his eyes furrowed in confusion, “S-Sorry I don’t know cheer terms.”

“Not surprised.” You let the words slip as you took a sip from your cup. Jungkook’s eyes looked at you, a hint of challenge and interest on his expression.

“If you have something against me, let’s hear it.”

“Don’t take it personally, Jungkook.” You reached out to give a light pat on his right chest. “I had a bad impression on Yoongi as well.”

With that, Yoongi sighed, nodding his head in the back. “It’s a miracle she likes me now.”

“Well, why don’t you give me a chance to change that impression then?” The left corner of his lip rose a playful look on his face as he challenged you.

It could be the alcohol or could be the loud music that made you disoriented. Nonetheless, you reached out your hand for a handshake, “You’ve got one chance.”

Jimin and Yoongi left the kitchen to enjoy their own time together. You had an inkling that something was stirring between them, but you decided to let them be as you were left alone with Jungkook in the kitchen.

“So, yn,” Jungkook shifted in the high stool, leaning on his right elbow, his attention focused on you. “Care to explain why you seem to hate my team so badly?”

“Buckle your seatbelts, Jeon.” You teased as you reached out for your drink. You watched his attention eyes fixated on yours as he waited for your answer. “I dislike your team because it feels we don’t get the appreciation I feel we rightfully deserve. We’re always there for your plays, even for your friendlies. The support just feels one sided and to me it sucks when we put in a lot for our routines as well.”

You watched him slowly nod his head in understanding, his body leaning backwards as he internalised your words. “I have to admit. I never really paused to think about your cheer team. I mean your outfits and pom poms are cute and all— “

Pointing your finger at him, you interrupted, “Exactly, we’re not just cute outfits and pom poms. We only use the cheesy pom poms for your matches to make the crowd all hyped up. Do you even know we have our own competition as well?”

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, “Of course I do. Just never watched one.”

You let out a short, dry laugh, “It’s okay. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Jungkook frowned, noting the dejected tone laced in your laugh and words as you tried to dismiss it. As an athlete himself, he knew how dejecting it must feel that support was one sided or lacking.

“Hey,” He placed the cup on the counter, “Why don’t you educate me? I’d like to know more.”

You smiled, “You’re pretty good at changing your first impression. You’re working really hard.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “No no, I mean it. It’s not just about changing your opinion of me. Tell me about cheer.”

You paused momentarily, recognising the sincerity in his voice as his gaze stayed on you. You knew he was serious about wanting to know more. It was as though the wall you placed between the two seemed to falter, a very minuscule crack forming on the wall.

“Jungkook!” A random college student hollered for his attention, “Come play beer pong with us!” You watched in amusement as you read their body language. They were clearly flirting with Jungkook and calling for his attention.

“Duty calls?”

Jungkook shook his head, “I’ll pass!”

“We can save this talk for another time, you can go— “

“Just to clear things up,” Jungkook turned back to you, “I’m not a fuckboy.”

You choked on air from his sudden defence statement, “I-I didn’t s-say you were— “

“Didn’t have to,” He said with a light smile on his face, “But I expected it too. Comes with the popularity I guess.” “So, you don’t…?” You trailed off and he shook his head, as if he was completely appalled by the sheer thought of being a fuckboy. “No, no. I don’t see the point in flings. Like Yoongi said, I’m here for rugby. Not to find dates.”

It felt as if another crack in the wall was formed after learning that fact. Like how Yoongi managed to break down the wall between you and him a few games ago.

Maybe not all jocks were bad.

“Anyway,” Jungkook pulled you back from your thoughts, “Educate me.”

You began sharing how was practice like, the different roles people were and how strict your coach was. You explained how you were always at the gym on the days you didn’t have training. You always got passionate when you talked about cheer and Jungkook experienced it first-hand. He watched how your face immediately lit up when he asked you to share about the sport. He was sure that even a person with zero interest with cheer would be completely drawn to hear you share about it with how enthusiastic you were.

“We currently have training three times a week since nationals are coming. We practice from late afternoon to almost midnight sometimes.” You paused, a sheepish grin creeping on your face as you realised you had been rambling on about your sport. “I-I’m sorry, I must’ve bored you to death.”

“No, no!” He immediately shook his head, hands out in front shaking as well in protest, “I wasn’t bored. I was really interested. I can tell how much you love cheer though.”

“Y-Yea I really do. Always good to find something to distract you especially during college.”

He nodded his head, “Can’t argue with that.” He raised his plastic cup in his hand, “Cheers to distractions.”

“Cheers,” You laughed, raising your cup towards his.

-

You could say you clicked well with Jungkook that night. In fact, you guys shared a lot about each other’s sport that you didn’t exchange numbers or any form of communication afterwards. It didn’t bug you so much since you figured it was a one-off conversation with him.

To be frank, you almost forgot that you talked with Jungkook that party. Jimin was the one who reminded you, asking about how he was and if you still hated jocks.

“He’s not bad, actually.”

“Of course, that’s why Yoongi actually likes him.” You raised an eyebrow suspiciously, leaning towards Jimin, “Speaking of Yoongi, how are things between you two?”

Your friend snorted, dismissing you with his hand, “What are you talking about? There’s nothing going on. We’re just friendly.”

“For now?”

Jimin shrugged, “We’ll see how it goes.” He gives you a wink before getting up, extending his hand out as an offer to pull you up. “Back on the mat.”

Training went on until 11pm, it was full of drills as soon your coach would be picking who will make mat for nationals. Everyone had to give it their all during practice as you were all constantly being scrutinised by your coach, your attitude, skills, and stamina. You had been training your stunts with Jimin after he managed to pull you back up from your sulking phase. Everything was important.

You separated from Jimin after practice as you made your way to the bus stop to head home. “Yn? Is that you?”

A very familiar honey-like voice.

Jungkook slowly made his way to the bus stop, “What are you doing here at campus so late?” You asked.

“I was studying. Just ended practice?”

“Yea.”

Jungkook glanced at his watch, “Wanna grab a midnight snack?”

You smiled, “Sure.”

“How does ice cream sound?”

“I’m down.”

There was a small ice cream store near campus and luckily, you managed to catch the last order. The both of you enjoyed your slow late night stroll back to the bus stop as you strikes up a conversation with him.

“I realised I was the only one talking about my sport that night. How about you share about rugby? I actually don’t know much about it.”

“You sure?” Jungkook asked, slightly shocked that you had brought up his sport. “Because I can get carried away when I talk about it—“

You laughed, “I’m sure Jungkook. Fire away.”

Jungkook started sharing the rules and positions of rugby - “I’m number 11, one of the wings” You looked at him, already confused with the terms. With a short chuckle, he explained, “I’m one of the backs. We do the running and scoring. Sometimes, we have to knock people down in our way.”

He continued sharing his training schedule as well - how his team similarly had gym sessions on non-training days just like cheer. The only difference was that the rugby team had a gym off campus.

“Sounds fancy.”

“It’s pretty fancy.” He nodded his head letting out an airy laugh.

“Rubgy doesn’t sound too bad now that I know how it works.”

“You could watch one of our matches or practices when you guys aren’t cheering for us.”

“Why not.”

—

“Guess who I see?” Jimin whispered, nudging you out of your focus. You looked up, placing your dumbbells down, “Where are you looking at?”

“6 o’clock.” He muttered as he sneakily stole your dumbbells to do his set while you turned around to spot Jungkook who had just entered the gym.

You were surprised to see Jungkook and his teammates at the gym. Yoongi was the first one who spotted you. He sent a small smile, raising his hand for a short wave in your direction.

“Hey thief,” You nudged Jimin back, “Yoongi is here too.”

“I know, that’s why I stole your dumbbells.” You chuckled, smacking his toned arms upon learning his tactic.

You watched Yoongi talk to Jungkook, seemingly informing him that you were there as Jungkook turned his body around, his eyes meeting yours. You smiled, sending a hello with your hand to which he returned.

Seeing that you were unoccupied, since Jimin stole your dumbbells, Jungkook made his way to you. “What happened to your almighty external gym?”

He shrugged with a bright smile, “After hearing you hype up the campus gym so much the other night, I thought, why not give it a shot?”

You shook your head with a chuckle, clearly not believing his words. “If that’s the case, enjoy the campus gym!” You reached out to pat his broad shoulders before turning back to resume your gym session.

“Are you done with your set yet?” You questioned Jimin who stood right back up with a grin, “Was he watching me?”

Taking the dumbbells from his hands, you shrugged, “Doubt it.”

“Yea right.” Jimin scoffed, stepping aside to give you more space.

Your gym session lasted an hour as usual, ensuring that you don’t over-work your body as well since your coach was going to be choosing the final 20 soon.

Whenever you weren’t studying or training, you were stressing over whether you’ll make mat. And it was evident on your face. You heard a sigh coming from Jimin, “Don’t stress over it too much. You’ve been working extra hard this season, I’m confident you’ll make it.”

You responded with a weak smile, “Thanks Jimin, I really hope so.”

“Me too, but what you need is to stop thinking about it right now. Go get a distraction for tonight. Tomorrow’s training is going to be torturous.”

“When isn’t it?” You joked, “Touché.”

You packed your gym bag with Jimin, ready to leave and wind down for the day. Jimin was right, you needed a distraction - maybe a Netflix movie, or do some yoga to de-stress, or do a sheet mask —

“Jimin, yn!” You heard Yoongi holler out your names as you walked away from the campus gym.

“Yoongi, what’s up?”

Yoongi walked up to the both of you, accompanied by Jungkook.

“We just ended our session, was thinking if you wanted to grab dinner together?”

“Sure! Yn here,” Jimin laces his arm around yours as he pulled you closer to him, “needs a distraction ASAP.”

“A distraction?” Jungkook asked, looking at you for a response.

“From worrying about making mat.”

Yoongi chuckled, “Jungkook doesn’t know cheer lingo— “

“Oh no,” He shook his head, “I know what that means.”

“You do?!” Yoongi and Jimin asked incredulously.

“I gave him a lecture about cheer during that after party.” You answered and Jimin laughed, “Right! I forgot about your granny lecture.”

You scoffed defensively, “I-I mean he could’ve stopped be any time he was bored— “

“Because I wasn’t. It’s refreshing seeing people be so passionate about something, especially during college.” You returned the smile, the more you interacted with Jungkook, the more you could see why Yoongi kept Jungkook in his small circle of friends.

If there was anything the four of you had in common, it was your passion for your sport.

“I know a great place we can eat at.” Yoongi suggested. The four of you headed over to Yoongi’s go-to restaurants after his workout sessions. As the food started to come to your table, Yoongi and Jimin were caught up with some music competition show that you did not keep up with.

“So how has cheer been?” Jungkook’s voice pulled your attention towards him. “Fun but tiring as usual. Our coach is selecting who will make it to the final 20 for the nationals.” You sighed, anxiousness clearly evident in your tone and on your face.

“Hey, from an athlete to another, I know you’ve trained very hard, and I’ll be rooting for you to make it to the final 20.”

You weren’t sure why, but it felt comforting to hear those words from Jungkook. It felt different than when Jimin would cheer you up. You quickly decided that it was because you were praised by one of the star players of the rugby team. It felt great being acknowledged by someone out of the cheer world.

So, you decided to go with that explanation.

“Thanks, Jungkook, I hope I do. But you technically don’t know whether I’ve trained hard since you’ve never seen me practice.”

“That is true.” He simply grinned at you, “But I just know.”

“You have so much faith in me, Jungkook.” You teased.

He placed his forearms on the table, leaning on them to bring himself slightly close to you, “I have lots of faith in you.”

—

You weren’t stupid and you weren’t blind either. You and Jimin have been spotting Jungkook and Yoongi loitering around the indoor gym lately.

“Did you see them?” Jimin tossed you your newly refilled bottle, “I haven’t left the gym. They’re here again? It’s like 10pm.”

Jimin shrugged his shoulders, “Yoongi was napping on the table though. Looks like Jungkook was the only one actually studying.”

Jungkook never mentioned to you that he stayed back in campus to revise. Though, you barely talked to him since you never exchanged numbers. Every time you had a conversation with him, you both would get too swept up in the conversation that it never occurred to either of you that it was the 21st century and you could talk with your phones.

Training ended an hour later, and you did not expect them to still be outside ‘studying’.

“You guys are still studying?” Jimin called out as you both approached them, Jungkook’s head shot up almost instantly, his eyes finding yours, a bright smile on his face despite his tired eyes from revision. “What a coincidence seeing you here.”

You raised your eyebrows questioningly, “Here,” You looked around with your hands gesturing to the area, “Right outside the indoor gym, with no fan or AC.”

“Yes, here.” He insisted.

Yoongi sighed, finally waking up from his nap. “What’s with the commotion— Oh, you guys are finally done with practice.” He got up and grabbed his bags, “Jimin, need a lift?”

“Yes please!” Jimin nodded his head, giving you a quick goodbye hug before heading off with Yoongi, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Guess I can’t judge your preference for a study location.” You made your way to him as he packed up his belongings. “I kinda feel bad for you that Yoongi ditched you.”

Jungkook shook his head with a smile, “He was meant to ditch me anyway. I was waiting to see you.”

You felt yourself momentarily pause; an inhale stuck halfway as you processed his words. He waited to see me. You thought, your brain trying to find an explanation for that.

“I realised we haven’t exchanged numbers even after all this time.” He continued when he didn’t get a response.

“O-Oh right, here,” You reached for your phone in your bag, handing it to Jungkook. “I’ll drop you message.”

Jungkook didn’t take your phone immediately, his eyes locked on your face, as if he was shocked that you didn’t mind exchanging numbers, his hand reached for your phone, gently brushing against your fingers, sending a fluttery feeling in your way.

Once he added his contact, he returned your phone, “It’s 11pm, do you have a ride home?”

“I usually just take the bus.”

“I have a car. Let me take you home.”

“Oh no,” You shook your head, “You don’t have to really, I’m used to taking the bus— “

“But I’m already here anyway, come on, do you not trust my driving skills?” He joked and you let out an airy laugh, “Alright fine. I owe you one.”

“Nah, you already gave me your number.” He winked at you, throwing his bag over his shoulder, leading the way to the carpark with you slightly stunned from his flirtatious remarks.

The care ride with Jungkook was comfortable, slightly tense on your end at the start. Jungkook gave you the cable to play whatever music you wanted which made you slightly more comfortable. “I don’t know if we have the same music taste— “

“It’s alright, just play whatever you want.”

“O-Okay…”

Surprisingly, you and Jungkook didn’t have that much of a difference in differing taste, there were some songs that he didn’t know but found himself liking it. He himself was shocked to learn that you had similar taste in music.

Jungkook didn’t know why he felt so nervous having you in his car and driving you home. It was not like you were getting married. But why did he feel so nervous? Jungkook rarely flirted or showed interest in someone. His love was rugby - his sport - his life. He poured his heart and soul into the sport. But with you, he found that he couldn’t help flirting with you. It felt natural - It felt right.

Ironically, or maybe not, as he drove you home that night, Jungkook knew deep down, he was in it for the long ride.

—

Jimin held your hands tightly as you kept your eyelids shut. You could feel that your heart was about to jump out of your chest as you sat on the mat with Jimin, waiting for your coach to call out all the 20 names. It almost felt like you could feel your heartbeat in your head, the suspense and dragging was killing you.

Your hands clammy in Jimin’s but you did not have a single care as all you wanted in that moment was to make it to nationals.

“Jimin.”

You gasped, pulling Jimin in for a tight hug as he yelled in excitement. You were proud of your best friend; you knew that he would make mat and he deserved it.

Names were called and there were only 5 names left to be called, you grip on Jimin’s hands slackened as you started to accept that you won’t make it—

“Yn.”

You ears rang and you thought you were about to go deaf. Jimin’s loud but happy scream stunned you as you were pulled in for a suffocating hug this time.

The last 4 names were called and the final 20 had been made (subject to change).

Tears welled up in your eyes as memories of your gruelling training flashed through your mind. All the tiring practices and extra trainings with Jimin, the hardships and discipline all paid off.

Training went swimmingly, your coach running through sections of the choreography until it was time to wrap up. “Didn’t have the time to properly congratulate you.” Jimin said with a bright proud grin on his face as you left the gym.

“Thanks, Jimin! Hopefully we can stay on the 20 and compete together.”

“I’m confident we will.”

His eyes shifted away from you, and you followed his gaze to see Jungkook outside, once again, studying, alone this time. “Where’s Yoongi?” You asked as you both approached him.

“He gave up studying with me. Probably went home to crash after our practice today.”

Jimin eyed Jungkook’s facial expression suspiciously, eyes darting between you and Jungkook before he spoke, “I’m going book a ride and head home first yea? Text me when you’re home.” Jimin gives your shoulder a good squeeze before saying bye to you and Jungkook.

“What’s with the big smile on your face?” Jungkook questioned as he started packing his belongings. Your smile was contagious and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as well as soon as he saw your bright expression.

“I got into the top 20!”

You squared like a little girl, once again excited from the thought of making it this season.

Jungkook abruptly stopped gathering his stuff, stepping away from the table, “Really? Congrats, yn!” He pulled you in for a hug which made your muscles stiffen but your arms automatically wrapped around him.

“I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Jungkook.” You chuckled as you pulled away from the embrace. Your mind was clouded, filled with a mixture of thoughts of making it to the Top 20 and how warm that hug felt. How it felt so ‘right’.

Over the past few weeks, it had become a routine, to have Jungkook studying outside the indoor gym and drive you home after practice. You always told him he didn’t need to send you home, but he never listened.

“Our qualifying match is next Friday, if we win, there’ll be an after party, are you free to come?”

“For the after party?”

“Yea, I mean, technically your whole cheer team usually come but since your nationals are coming, I’m assuming you would be too busy to come.”

“No no, I’ll come.”

“You will?” Jungkook’s face lit up and a bubbling feeling grew in your chest as you tried to ignore it. “Yea I will.”

—

Since Jungkook had his qualifying match around the corner, you stopped seeing him late at night outside the gym. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you missed seeing him after your practice.

Nonetheless, you would still spend the night texting him right before bed. It felt so easy to converse with him and you always looked forward to hear stories about his rugby practice and it felt nice to share about your cheer practice to him.

Friday quickly arrived and you decided to watch his match since the game was on your campus grounds. You took a seat somewhere in the middle of the bleachers and your eyes scanned the field to find Jungkook.

You recalled him explaining the positions of the backs and you found his number - 11. A smile crept unto your face as your eyes fixated on Jungkook. Your facial expression always scrunched up into a wince whenever you see them tackle each other during the game. You would let out a hiss as if you were the one sliding against the grass as Jungkook scored a point.

Nonetheless, it was fascinating to actually watch the game. Not surprisingly, after you understood the rules of the game, it was exciting to root for your college’s team. Maybe it was because you were rooting for a particular player, but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself just yet.

During half-time, your college’s team made their way back to the benches which was in front of where you sat. You didn’t bother shouting for his attention since you knew it was important to stay in the zone.

You sat at your spot, watching him, and you almost felt like a stalker. He was drenched in sweat, definitely going to have bruises or scratches from the game, you could see his chest move up and down as he took deep breaths to relax.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat when he had looked up and found your eyes amongst the crowd. Jungkook had been casually looking around the crowd to see if you really did come to watch his game.

He had texted you the night before about how he hoped you could come see his game now that you know how it actually worked. You told him no promises but had made sure you were free the afternoon to attend his game. Of course, you didn’t tell him that.

In an instant, his serious gaze broke into an inviting smile as he mouthed the words “hey” at your direction. You smiled back, returning the greeting while you hoped no one caught that moment between the two of you.

His coach called for their attention to remind them of their game plan but Jungkook was having a battle in his mind. The image of you smiling at the bleachers stayed as he tried to listen to his coach’s words. He knew the game plan, he was always on top the game. But seeing you watching him from the bleachers made him feel giddy but at least he also motivated him to do extra well. He wanted to look good in front of you.

And that’s exactly what he did.

He sent you text to wait for him to freshen up and you sat at your spot, enjoying the breeze as you waited for him to come back from his shower.

“You actually came.”

You looked up from your phone to see a wet-haired Jungkook approaching you with a lopsided grin. “Wanted to give support especially after all the times you sent me home after practice.”

Your phone vibrated as Jimin spammed you with messages when you stopped replying. Jimin had been asking about your whereabouts and you told him you were at the rugby game. He was upset since he would have tagged along to watch Yoongi if he knew you were going.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

Jungkook gestured with his thumb behind him, “Still showering. Is Jimin here?”

You chuckled, shaking your head, “He didn’t know I was coming to watch. I think he’ll attack me later at the party.”

“Sounds like a fun match to see.” He joked and you scoffed, “I’ll beat Jimin easily.”

“I’m sure, I’ll always be rooting for you.”

It sounded like another tease but his words caused nervous knots in your stomach. You deliberately ignored the feeling as you walked down the bleachers to his side, “Shall we get Yoongi and Jimin?”

“Yep, text me his address. We’ll pick him up once Yoongi is ready to go.”

Get ready, Jungkook’s picking you up - yn

I already look good, always ready - Jimin

Yoongi didn’t take long to come out of the showers and the three of you made your way in Jungkook’s car to pick Jimin up, all ready for the after party.

“I haven’t had dinner so I am ready for all the food.” Jimin groaned, clutching his stomach as he hopped off the car.

The four of you made your way up the driveway to see that the after party had started even earlier. “Looks like everyone couldn’t wait to party.” Yoongi commented as you entered through the main door, the loud typical party music blasting through the house.

It wasn’t a very packed party, lesser than the usual after parties but still plenty of people nonetheless.

There were already different groups engaging in different activities - gossiping, flirting, beer pong, truth or dare, Mario Kart and many more.

“Yn, you hungry? I heard Woohyun baked pasta for tonight.” Yoongi gestured to the kitchen. Before you could reply, Jungkook added on, “Someone’s barbecuing in the backyard though.”

“Barbecue?” You repeated, “Sounds delicious.” You turned your head back to Yoongi, “I’ll follow you guys after!”

Yoongi and Jimin made their way to the kitchen while you and Jungkook headed over to start your night with barbecue.

At the backyard, there was a swimming pool with a small lawn where the barbecue was. The two of you made your way to the table with the cooked food, helping yourself to dinner.

“This tastes amazing.” You moaned in delight after the first bite.

Jungkook laughed, “Come on,” He took an empty plate and grabbed a handful of barbecue sticks and kebabs, leading the way to the other side of the pool with one empty lounge chair.

You shared the plastic lounge chair, sitting beside Jungkook as you shared the plate. “So, how was my game?”

“To be honest,” You cleared your throat, “More interesting now that I know the game.”

He grinned like a happy high school boy, “That’s great to hear! Maybe you can watch more of my games or practices when you have the time.”

“We’ll see about that.” You teased, grabbing another stick to feed yourself.

“So, how’s your prep for nationals?”

“Tiring, one of our flyers got a concussion after a bad fall last night so she’s temporarily replaced. Our pyramid’s a mess.”

Jungkook lightly nudged your shoulders, “I’m sure it’ll turn out well. You guys are the defending champions.”

“I hope we can defend it this season.”

“Gotta think positively.” He winked at you and you returned a small smile. Silence fell upon you two as you noticed the lack of personal space between the both of you. It felt comfortable yet nerve-racking to be so close to him.

Was he uncomfortable with the closeness? Should you move away?

Just as you were about to scoot away, he spoke. “I’m really glad you came to my match tonight. It felt different.” He admitted rather shyly as his gaze dropped to the half empty plate.

“Different?”

Jungkook nodded his head, “Felt nice knowing there’s someone out there rooting for me.”

“There were lots of people rooting out for you.”

“Yea but, someone out there that I really want to impress.”

You didn’t have a reply, you weren’t sure how to reply. You decided to opt for a small encouraging pat on his shoulder before retracting your hand.

It didn’t seem much from an outsider’s perspective, but his words held a lot of weight. For the both of you. Almost as if you were about to cross a line - some line that you weren’t sure if you’re both ready to cross.

“Well,” He cleared his throat, standing up, “Shall we go find the two?”

“S-Sure.”

The two of you entered through the back door and was immediately blocked by his fellow team player, handing both of you a bottle of soju. “Gotta help us finish these, Jeon. Someone,” his eyes darted to another team player, “Accidentally ordered twice our usual order.”

“Damn.” Jungkook laughed in disbelief, “I’ll pull my weight then.”

“Great! You know what’s a perfect game for that? Spin the Bottle! You guys wanna play?”

Jungkook’s gaze darted to yours as you hesitated to reply.

“Come on Jeon, you always reject our games. Just this once, yea?”

He sighed, “A-Alright sure. Yn?”

You shook your head, “I’ll pass. Go have fun.” You patted his back as you excused yourself to the kitchen. There was a sour feeling knowing that Jungkook agreed to play Spin the Bottle, you avoided looking at the circle at the living area as you went to find Yoongi and Jimin guarding the snacks.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

“Spin the Bottle.” You plopped yourself down beside Jimin, chugging the soju bottle in your hand.

“Someone sounds affected.” Jimin teased, handing you a plate of pasta.

“No one’s affected.” You defended yourself as you grabbed a fork to eat the pasta, ignoring the feeling in your chest.

You had almost completely forgotten about Spin the Bottle as the three of you went on to talk about other things. You were laughing and enjoying your night with the two until you heard the familiar voice that made your muscles freeze.

“Any pasta left for me?”

You turned to look at Jungkook, “Enjoyed the game?”

“Pretty interesting,” He started and you immediately wanted to shut his voice out, “But would’ve been fun if you were in the game.” He winked at you before he took a plate for himself, acting as if he hadn’t said those words. You saw the empty soju bottle that he placed on the counter top and figured it was the alcohol talking so you decided to brush it off. It was probably the alcohol making him say such a brave statement in front of your friends.

Would something have happened if you agreed to play the game?

—

You realised that maybe he did decide to be more brave.

He started sitting in the gymnasium to watch your practices. Jimin would always inform you when he spotted Jungkook, insisting that he was here to watch you. Though you constantly denied, because you knew he knew a few of you guys from all the parties.

Somehow, you always felt his eyes were locked on you - his attention never leaving you no matter how chaotic the mat got. Every fall, every success, every break. You just knew he was looking at you.

The first practice you realised he was there, you approached him after practice ended.

“Hey Jungkook!”

“Why are you here?”

“Am I that unwanted? Looks like only Jimin is glad to see me here.”

“N-No,” You were caught off-guard, “I was just wondering—“

“I know, I’m kidding.” Jungkook chuckled, getting up from the bench, hopping down to stand right in front of you. “You came to my game, and I want to come see your practices. I haven’t actually seen how serious cheer can be.”

You hummed, “Alright then.” You tossed your damp towel over your shoulder. Jungkook reached out, “Let me take your bag. I saw how tiring practice was.”

“Jungkook it’s fine—“

“And you fell from that pyramid a couple of times. You better ice that bruise.” He pointed to the bruise on your shin. You had gotten the bruise when you knocked it against one of your teammate’s foot when you had fallen off the pyramid.

He had successfully snatched your duffel bag when you were distracted by the bruise on your shin. “Jungkook—“

“Come on, let the guy be a gentleman.” Jimin nudged your sides and you shot a light glare his way. “I already booked a ride and it’s here so I’ll head home first. Text me when you’re home, yea?” Jimin patted your shoulder before jogging off.

During the ride home, Jungkook shared how in awe he was during your practice. “I felt that same way watching your game too.” You admitted.

“I’m definitely watching nationals with Yoongi.”

“You don’t have to—“

“But I want to! I’m coming.”

Over the weeks, you learned even more about Jungkook.

Firstly, Jungkook was a really thoughtful individual.

He also loved going the extra mile. You knew his rugby training schedule since he shared it before. So you knew he was watching your late night sessions after his tiring ones on some days, yet still sat through all the way.

He didn’t attend all practices, but he didn’t have to. You always appreciated the times he came to watch and you made it a point to watch his trainings as well when you had nothing on.

Secondly, Jungkook was one of the most hardworking and disciplined individuals that you have met.

Every footwork drill, punishment or endurance runs, he took it seriously. He always gave it his 110%. Even when you knew he was near his limit, he never slacked.

Thirdly, Jungkook was cute when he was in the zone.

His eyebrows always scrunched together, sometimes he would bite his lip for extra concentration. He would whisper to himself after his attempts or runs, possibly correcting himself or encouraging himself.

You knew he was his harshest critic. You could see it in his training etiquette.

From an athlete to another, Jungkook was a very respectable athlete - in both fitness and character.

Eventually, this became routine between the both of you. You would watch each other’s practices whenever you had the time. Jimin and Yoongi had gotten used to the scene as well.

Both would tease the both of you separately, “Look who’s here.”

“Shut up.” You both would say to them, trying to fight the smile that wanted to break through.

“You know, people will start thinking that we’re dating.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad thing, now would it?” Jungkook tilted his head, a cheeky grin on his face as he tossed you a cold unopened bottle of water. His reply sent your heart fluttering. He knew his way with words.

“It’ll kill your popularity with the public. Everyone will lose hope and stop pining after you.” You said dramatically after taking a big gulp of the refreshing water.

“Still don’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

“You know, you’re a real flirt Jeon Jungkook.”

He grinned cheekily, “Only when I want to.”

He definitely knew his way with words, and possibly, his way to your heart.

—

Jungkook started asking you out for lunch and dinner over the weeks, including the weekends. It was refreshing seeing you two not dripping in sweat from training. And he cleaned up well.

Although the rugby finals and cheer nationals were just around the corner, you both tried to find spare time to hang out. It felt like a stress-reliever. You both needed it. Jungkook knew he needed and wanted it. He always wanted to see you.

You were both at an open field, lying next to each other, bodies facing up as you enjoyed the night sky. Silence engulfed the both of you as you relished the tranquility of the night.

With hectic schedules, you appreciated times like this when you didn’t have to think about something so serious like competitions and expectations.

You were grateful that you made it to the Final 20 but it was still stressful knowing that there are high expectations for your team to defend your title.

It was the same for Jungkook.

“This feels great, doesn’t it?” He was the first to break the silence.

You turned just your head to admire his side profile as his eyes remained glue to the starry night.

“It does.”

Jungkook paused before continuing the conversation, “You know, I didn’t actually play Spin the Bottle that night. I just drank every time it was me, just wanted to please Woohyun.”

Confused, you weren’t sure why Jungkook had brought that up out of the blue. “Why are you—”

“I just wanted you to know. Felt like you had to know.” He shrugged his shoulders, pressing his lips into a tight line. “Didn’t want to send mix signals.”

“Mix signals?” You turned around, lying on top of your stomach as you got up on your forearms. You had a hunch of where this conversation was heading, but you didn’t like to be one making assumptions. Jungkook turned his head to face you, “I’m into you. I always like being with you and I hope you feel the same way.”

Nothing came out of your mouth. You were stunned by his sudden confession. Your eyes remained on his face as he kept a soft smile, with not a single ounce of regret on his face.

“I… I like being with you too.” You replied shyly, shuffling back down to lie down on your back next to him, not daring to make eye contact.

Next to you, Jungkook let out a short chuckle. He decided not to push it for that night. But it was enough to know that things were going right between the two of you.

“I never shared this with anyone but, sometimes, I do feel like quitting rugby.”

You were taken aback by his sudden change in topic but didn't to roll with it

“Why?”

He took a while to respond, formulating his thoughts into sentences. “The expectations get too much sometimes, especially as one of the labelled star players.” He scoffed, as if he was laughing at the term, or himself.

“I’m sure as the Final 20 in cheer you feel that expectation as well.”

You didn’t give a verbal reply, only nodding your head as you turned your head back to face up to the sky.

Jungkook didn’t need a verbal reply, he knew you felt the same.

“It’s suffocating. But right now, I feel like I can take a deep long breath, and not worry about making a mistake or slowing down.”

Just as he said that, he took a deep inhale, letting out his breath through is mouth.

“That felt good to let out. I never wanted to share this with others because I’m afraid they’ll think that I’m taking my position and skills for granted.”

“Yea I get what you’re saying.” You assured him and he smiled, turning his head to face you. You heard the shuffling sounds and you decided to face him as well, momentarily freezing when your eyes finally met his.

“But it feels like I can talk to you about anything. It feels nice to talk to you, yn.”

You were once again lost for words, feeling your cheeks grow hot as your eyes remained locked in his gaze.

“I feel safe with you.”

—

It was the final championship match for rugby. Your cheer team was once again there, to root for your college - you and Jimin were specifically rooting for Yoongi and Jungkook.

The whole venue was excruciatingly loud and tense. Both colleges with great support backing them. The match was very close and you could tell how they seemed more tired than other games. The nerves and the physical demand was getting to them.

Your coach yelled, calling their hands to get your attention. “Come on guys, time to boost their morale”

With your pom poms in your hands, your cheer team gathered, facing your side of the bleachers, enthusiastically cheering the campus cheers and getting the crowd to join in.

It was followed by simply stunts and routines to get the atmosphere more lively and ready for the game to resume.

As the players passed by your team, you all wished them good luck.

“Good luck, Yoongi!”

“Good luck, Jungkook!” You exclaimed encouragingly, shaking both your pom poms his way as he turned around to see you. He winked at you, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ before they made their way to the field.

“You’re drooling.”

Jimin’s voice taunted you from the side, You elbowed his side, “You’re doing the same.”

“Touche.”

As the timer reaches the end, your side erupted in the loudest of cheers, you happily screaming along with the crowd. This win felt different from all the different times your cheer team supported them. Your college managed to defend their title, winning the championship for the season.

When the players returned to the benches and huddled for a group photo together, Jimin whispered, “Why don’t you go up and congratulate him?”

“Hush, Jimin, not in front of everyone.”

“Come on, don’t be shy. I know you like him.”

“We’re just close friends.”

Jimin scoffed, his index finger pointing to you and himself, “You and I are close friends. You and Jungkook however, are idiots who don’t want to admit that you guys like each other.”

“Shut it!” You sighed, lightly hitting him with your pom poms. When you turned around, Jungkook had already made his way to you. “You were cheering really hard back there.”

“Just for you.”

Just for me?” He raised his eyebrows, a smug look on his face as he stepped closer, “Yoongi’s gonna be devastated knowing that—“

“Actually my cheers were for Yoongi but I didn’t want you to feel upset or forgotten.”

Jungkook frowned and you really wished you had the guts to just kiss him right there, your eyes flickering to his pink soft lips.

“I’m kidding, don’t cry, not when you just became a champion.”

Jungkook laughed heartily before leaning towards your ear, “I’m already a champion having you on my side to cheer me on.”

—

Attention immediately shifted to your team for the upcoming nationals which was just a week after Jungkook’s finals.

You guys had constant past few runs leading up to the final day and everything felt like it would go well. The biggest obstacle was controlling your mental state during the day itself.

The night before, Jungkook had sent you a lengthy good luck message as he reminded you that he would be there.

You slept peacefully that night and woke up to read his message in the morning once again. You had your own cheerleader this time.

Everything seemed to go by quickly, the warm ups and runs backstage while waiting for your team’s turn. You had not met Jungkook or Yoongi since you were preparing backstage with your team, focused on getting into the right mental state.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest when it was finally your team’s turn to perform.

The sun was scorching hot and there were many spectators. You stood in formation with your teammates as you waited for the song to play.

It felt way different than last season. Even though you were there last season to support the performing team, it truly felt different to be the one about to perform on the mat. With all eyes on you, carefully watching for any mistakes or mishaps. The heat already making you sweat when you stepped onto the stage.

But once the music played, that was all you could focus on.

Bright smiles plastered on all your faces as you went through the routine. A silent celebration in your head every time your team successfully pulled off a stunt.

Quick gazes made on the mat as you constantly changed formation. Encouraging looks and the sounds of the encouragement on the mat from your teammates to get you through the routine.

And just like that - it was your ending pose. Heavy pants surrounding you as your gaze locked on the audience. You all broke character afterwards, squealing and hugging each other for not screwing up the pyramid and the routine.

It felt good.

In fact, it felt amazing.

Jimin yelled your name, pulling you in for a tight hug, “We did it!”

“I know!”

Once all the teams had finished, the top 2 teams were announced and your college name was called out.

In front of the entire crowd, you hold intertwined your hands, head hung low and eyes shut right as you awaited for the results. The cheerleader holding the 2nd prize trophy walked back and forth between the two college teams as the announcer evilly drags on the result.

Your heartbeat was pounding loudly and you could feel it in your head, all your hands clasped together were clammy from nervous sweat.

Jungkook’s hopefully eyes stayed locked on your figure as he waited for announcements from the crowd.

The other college was called and your entre team’s knees went weak, buckling as some immediately fell to the ground.

Deafening screams erupted as you were pulled into a big group hug, you guys had just defended your title.

Your team was the reigning national champion once again.

Tears were falling as everyone congratuler each other. Your coach and assistant coach ran up to mat to join the group hug as your team proudly accepted the winning trophy.

You had made your way off the stag to reunite with the other cheer members as the public slowly started to approach you for a team photo.

With tears all over your faces, you posed for the group photos as thanked all your teammates with a big hug.

“Yn!”

You heard his voice amongst the chaos.

You felt yourself immediately searching for the familiar pair of eyes in the crowd. The moment your eyes landed on him, you rushed up towards him, his arms wide open ready to accept you.

Jungkook pulled you in for tight embrace, repeatedly saying “congrats, you did it, I know you guys would win”. Tears flowed down your face once again still not believing what had just happened.

It felt so surreal and yet being in Jungkook’s embrace felt even more surreal. It was as if you were in a dream.

“Congrats yn!” You heard Yoongi’s voice from behind Jungkook.

You pulled away to see not only Yoongi but the entire rugby team with him. They were cheering proudly, chanting your college’s name with pride. Your eyes immediately farted back to Jungkook who had kept his arms around you.

“Did you…?”

“Yes, I convinced everyone to come. They’d be missing on such a stellar performance.”

As if your grin couldn’t get any bigger, your broke into a euphoric laugh, “You’re amazing.”

“You’re calling me amazing? After what your team had just displayed back there? You must be blind—“

Maybe it was the adrenaline rush, the high influx of dopamine from winning the competition and from being in his embrace. It didn’t matter, when your lips met his, you knew that was all that mattered at that moment.

You felt Jungkook lean into the kiss, his arms pulling you closer to his body. Both of you could hear your cheer team behind you and Jungkook’s rugby team behind him, both cheering your names.

You guys laughed into the kiss when you heard Yoongi and Jimin loudly expressed their thoughts. “It’s about time.”

“I swear I thought they’ll never get to this stage.”

—

His bright and welcoming smile never failed to make your day, no matter how tired you were. You never thought that you’d love going for rugby practices and matches. It was the complete opposite scenario from the beginning of the year.

But now, it never got boring to watch your boyfriend get into his sport. You would always tell him that he looked attractive when he was serious. You enjoyed doing that because it always made him fluster and fumble over his words.

“I-I don’t… Nah… I don’t look cute when I’m serious.” He would adjust the neckline of his shirt, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression on his face.

“You’re finally done.” You made your way down the bleachers, “I’ve been thinking about dessert the past 30 minutes.”

Jungkook nodded his head, extending his arms out to pull you into a sweaty hug. He placed a light kiss on your forehead, pulling back slightly to get a better view of your face.

“Ice cream?”

Deja Vu.

You remembered the first night you hung out with Jungkook after meeting him at the after party. When you were at the bus stop ready to go home.

WIth a grin, you leaned in to kiss his soft lips lightly, “I’m down.”