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#i’m not too good at words especially in english
industrations · 6 months
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Hi, may I ask you a question? I know this is probably kind of an unusual ask so feel free to ignore this! But you seem so nice and kind so I thought I might ask you about this...
So lately I keep thinking a lot about gender things. Oh and I am a girl (maybe (as in afab)) and until recently I was convinced that I am very comfortable in my gender. And the thing is, I did think about it. I knew about my sexuality since I was a teenager and I remember thinking about my gender on many occasions and always feeling so sure about it and so comfortable in my body. But also... I've always been kinda scrawny (my friends keep joking that oversized clothes make me look like a 14 year old boy) and then someone told me people go through second puberty and I might get bigger hips in the next years and I would hate that. And then I wondered why, is it just the change or would I genuinely be uncomfortable in a more feminine body?
And now I'm wondering, because why would that come up now?? I mean I am in my early twenties now and I've known about my sexuality for years. But I've also kind of ignored that after realizing it for a while whoops. So it might be happening again. Or maybe it's really just a bit of gender envy and not all that serious?
I think I'm just trying to ask you if you think it's possible that I realize some things late? I'm just so unsure lately and I feel like I can't really ask anyone about this...
So yeah, apologies for sending you that paragraph and I hope you have a nice day!!
Alright so first of I want to say that I am in no means an expert at this. I’m not a therapist and I can’t tell you what you are or what you aren’t feeling. But I can speak from my own experience that things like this are by no means tied to a specific period of time in your life. There’s people that are well into their adult years (and i’m talking 60-70) that are still discovering things about themselves
I’ve spend a long time around people who were telling me what I can and cannot be or what i should be. I was "comfortable" in my gender because I was thought that I should be. And until I actually started talking to people who were going through similar things, I didn’t quite understand that it was not the norm feeling this way about yourself.
Again speaking from my own experience because never let anyone tell you what’s right or wrong for you. There is certain things about being afab i embrace and appreciate even. Things i would miss was i born differently. I love having a softer voice, and more feminine features because those are things that make me me.
But then I have cis girl friends who tell me "oh I wish I had your chest" or "you should be grateful you don’t have as little as me" and I just rather die that having this part of my body be perceived at all. I have my top surgery very soon which i’m extremely excited for but why do I have to defend myself for wanting something that’ll make me happier just because people don’t understand the feeling.
Sorry this has become quite personal and rambly somehow but apparently i have many feelings about this and if they can help anyone in any way then that would he the best outcome. I guess what i’m trying to say is try to let go of whatever you think other people want you to be and be kind and gentle with yourself. You don’t HAVE to be anything the only thing you should be is comfortable in your own skin
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erwinsvow · 1 month
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wait imagine rafe’s reaction when shy!reader is talking (for once) and his friends start interrupting her and her words slowly die out, or even as a shy girl i always get self conscious when it looks like people aren’t paying attention to what i’m saying so i just stop talking at all😭 which i feel shy!reader would do with rafe.
this was the sweetest prompt ever for these two ♡ i completely feel the same way have always been like that too! my favorite thing in the world is asking people to finish their stories after someone else interrupts or remembering where they left off. small angelic behaviors!
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"-and it's about two brothers, um, it follows the idea of cain and abel through different generations, so it's the brothers and then his sons, but-"
you're perched next to rafe, one of his hands around your waist keeping you in place, the other around his beer. he takes a sip, looking down at you talk about the book you were reading.
kelce had asked, and rafe is glad he did. you're too shy for your own good, clamming up around everyone. he wants to make you comfortable around his friends, at the very least. it's been going well so far, while you ask questions to them over sips of lemonade and reply thoughtfully when they answer.
you're interrupted by topper and the girl he's picked up ever since he stopped chasing after sarah.
"sounds like an english class book," topper comments.
"those books were always so boring. remember that one about the guy and the eyes-" his new girlfriend continues.
"i need another beer. kelce, need one?" topper asks, and you fall silent, curling up further next to rafe. he looks down at you, wondering why you're not continuing. you're quiet, leaning your head on his shoulder and playing with the hem of your dress.
they're talking about beer and classes now, even kelce sucked into the conversation. rafe doesn't like that, not at all, not the way your excitement faded away the second they stopped paying attention, the way topper interrupted, the shit they're talking about now instead of getting to know you, especially when you had listened to them so attentively.
"top, shut the fuck up. and stop cutting my girl off." they go quiet at once. you can hear your heart thudding in your chest. you look up at rafe surprised that he said anything. "keep goin', kid. so they're brothers?"
when it's just the two of you later that night, you hug rafe tight, pressing your head into his check and staying like that for minutes, feeling him rub your back and kiss your forehead, before pulling you away by your neck.
"what's that for?" he mumbles.
"for listening to me."
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powerfultenderness · 1 year
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Bed
Summary: König’s new neighbor finds out how comfortable his bed is. König falls quickly.
Pairing: König/F!Reader (civilian)
Rated: T+
A/N: Just some fluff. 
Word count: 2947
[Neighbor König masterlist]
It was nice to have his own place. Having been in the military most of his life, König was used to base life. The familiarity of it all was a comfort, but there were some, well, comforts that were always missing. Like his bed. The beds on base were little more than stiff uncomfortable cots, a little too small for him, causing his feet to hang off the edge of the bed. But his bed at home? Large and soft and yet firm enough to hold his weight, with ample room for his height. The pillows were like solid clouds. And the vanilla scented candle on his nightstand would fill his room with its delicious aroma and lull him into soft dreams. 
That’s where he was headed now, ready to eat the take out he was carrying, take a nice hot shower and climb into his bed. But as he rounded the stairs to get to his flat, he was met with a slight block on the stairs. A woman was struggling with a box, bracing it against her knee and grunting with every step she tried to take. 
“Excuse me,” he started in German.
You jumped, and let out an undignified squeak, when someone started talking behind you. The surprise made you drop your box, thankfully it was already low to the step and didn’t drop on your foot or anything. Still you were sure you heard something break. “Shit!” 
With a hand over your heart you turned and had to hold back another startled reaction. The man at the foot of the stairs was big, giant even, and was wearing…some sort of…hood? A mask? What the fuck? It took a second for you to realize he was carrying a take out bag, he must be trying to get past you. “S-sorry, you just startled me.” 
He raised his hands, a gesture to show that he meant no harm. “No, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He replied, this time in English. “Do you need some help?” 
You smiled politely at the man, “oh. No thank you! I got it!” You chuckled nervously, still a little out of breath from struggling with the box, while you braced your lower back with one hand. 
He smiled, not that you could see it, and gestured to the stairs. “Ok. After you.” 
Right. Shit, right. You were blocking him, the big guy probably didn’t want to just push past you on the stairs. 
You chuckled nervously again and picked up the box, trying to keep your grunts quiet, and heaved it up one more step. You could feel his eyes on you, another step, two more steps, then the landing. Whew! You gently dropped the box and straightened out your back to look up at the rest of the stairs. 
You sighed, the little flight you just made it up was the easy part, now the long part of the stairs. The faint chuckling you heard from the foot of the stairs didn’t help either.
“Miss, are you sure you don’t need any help?” 
“I mean,” you started with a huff, not out of anger, just an attempt to calm your breathing. “I don’t need help, I can carry it! But, help would be very much appreciated, yes. Thank you.” 
He nodded and smoothly moved up to the landing, keeping his movements deliberate. Something he learned to do long ago around civilians, especially around women that were smaller than him, so he didn’t scare them. You showed signs of being wary of him —a good thing as far as he is concerned, as he is a stranger—and took a step back as he neared you. Since his face is covered, he can’t offer a mollifying smile (though he feels himself doing so anyway), and instead simply nodded at you again before he picked up the box.
He chuckled, watching you struggle with the box had him expecting a heavy thing, but, “this isn’t heavy.”
“What!” You squeaked, hands on your hips, “it’s like, fifty pounds!” 
Even with his face covered (why?), you can tell just by the way his eyes darted over to you that he is smirking. “Where to?”
“Oh, not far. I’m at 203.” 
“Neighbor,” he nodded as he started up the stairs. “I live in 205.” 
You turned to him with a kind smile and introduced yourself, “nice to meet you, neighbor!” 
“König,” he replied, now at the top of the stairs, and shifted the box so he was holding it in one hand. He extended his right hand to you   
“Now you’re just showing off,” you say with an amused smile and shake his hand before leading him to your new flat.
He was surprised when you opened the door without unlocking it first.
“You should lock your door,” he followed you in. 
You rolled your eyes a little with a short laugh and spread your arms out in the literally empty flat. “What, you think someone is going to break in and steal my nothing?”
“No. There are other things to take besides your stuff.” He half muttered as he set the box down by the wall.
“Huh?”
He looked at you, with your head tilted slightly as you questioned him, and understood. You were one of those civilians. Innocent. He can’t bring himself to put a damper on this interaction, in the back of his mind he realizes that now he’ll have to keep an eye and ear out for his new neighbor. 
“Do you need help bringing anything else up?” 
You gave him a strained smile, nervous, if the sound of your voice was anything to go by, and shook your head. “No, no I couldn’t possibly take up more of your time.” 
You reached out and touched his forearm, intending to remind him of his dinner that he was carrying, but only drawing your attention to his muscles. “Oh. Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, before realizing that you’re essentially feeling him up and quickly drew your hand back. 
König blushed at the soft touch, and again at your mumbled admiration. Not for the first time in his life he was thankful for the mask that covered his face. 
“Uhm,” you cleared your throat and focused, “this was the heaviest box! I thought it would be best to start with that one! So I got it, really. Thank you, though.” 
You smiled at him again and König decided then that he liked seeing you smile. “The food can wait. I don’t mind helping.” He offered one more time, that seemed to be the pattern with you.
Honestly, why were you even saying no to this hunk of man? Sure, you couldn’t see his face, but the form fitting long sleeved shirt he wore did little to hide just how fit he was. So you hummed and hedge, “I really don’t want to be an imposition-” 
“You won’t.”
You smiled again, not a kind polite one like before, but bright and happy. He definitely liked your smile. “Well, in that case, König, I’d love your help!” 
His stomach flipped at your words and smile, and he felt himself blushing even harder. He knew why. It wasn’t often that cute civilian women smiled at him like that. It was nice to have the attention of a pretty woman, even if nothing more came of it, as he expected. 
“Let me put this down,” he lifted the bag of food a bit and you nodded, “sure!” 
Out in the hall he paused and waited for you to lock the door. You scoffed playfully and obliged him, “really, someone taking those broken plates off my hands would be a blessing.” 
He smirked but didn’t humor you, he wasn’t going to encourage your carelessness; what if something happened while he wasn’t around? 
With König’s help it didn’t take long to bring up the rest of the boxes. The man doubled up on boxes on both trips while you carried light bags and just opened doors for him. 
As he set the rest of the boxes down in the living room, you were rummaging through one of the bags you carried up, until you pulled out a wallet. “Thank you so much, König, let me pay you for all your help.” 
“No.” He shook his head and raised a hand to refuse your payment, “it was my pleasure.” 
Pleasure? Damn, where was this guy when you were moving out too? 
“König,” you draw out his name in a small pout. “How can I repay you, then?” 
Once again a wave of excitement rushed through him. He couldn’t help the inappropriate thoughts that ran through his mind for a second, that influenced his answer. “Have dinner with me.” 
Normally he wasn’t so forward with women, and never with civilian women. But you were nice, and didn’t seem to be scared of him, and besides, he saw you checking him out at least once! 
You were a little surprised by the request but smiled nonetheless. “Dinner? Sure, when-” 
“Now.”
“Now?” Well now you’re really surprised. “König, are you offering to share your dinner with me?”
He looked around the apartment, the only thing you had were a few boxes, and shrugged. “What else will you eat?” 
Oh. He had a point. You’re sure if you dug around in one of your bags, you could find a forgotten energy bar somewhere, but you didn’t have any real food around. “Well, ok. That’s true. Are you sure I can’t pay you? I feel like the person roping others into helping them move is supposed to pay for dinner.” 
“No.”
You shrugged, “well, alright then. Let’s go. Oh, unless you want to eat here? I can offer premium seating on the floor!” 
He chuckled and moved towards the door, holding it open for you. He once again waited for you to lock the door before leading you to his flat.
205 was a different layout than yours. It was one of the bigger flats with two bedrooms, two baths, a spacious living room and open kitchen. His place was nicely furnished, one of the first things that caught your eye was the big leather sectional in the living room. It was one of those deep couches, which made sense, considering how tall he was. 
The table and chairs that he motioned for you to sit at were also clearly chosen to accommodate his size. You practically had to climb into the chair, and could easily kick your feet while he grabbed the food and some plates.
He had been so efficient in helping you, that even with the short delay, the food was still warm. You thanked him again and started to dig in when he set a plate in front of you. It’s only after your first bite that you noticed he was eating by lifting his mask for every bite. 
Oh. “I’m sorry.” 
He hummed, confused by your sudden apology. “Why?” 
You gestured to your face, “you probably take off your mask when you’re alone in your home.” 
Warmth bloomed in his chest. You were concerned about him? Of course you were, you were nice. A pretty, nice girl who didn’t want to be an imposition on him, who worried about his comfort, who didn’t lock her door. 
He shook his head, “don’t worry about that. It is not a problem.” 
There was something intense about his stare as he answered you, so intense that you dropped the matter and quickly finished your meal. He matched your pace, finishing his meal just as you finished yours.
You opened your mouth, you were going to thank him again and bid him goodnight, he was sure, but he spoke first. “Want a beer?” 
“Oh. Sure.” 
You smiled at him again, causing his blood to thrum in his veins. He wanted to remember your smile for the next time he was on a mission. The other men would brag about their women, and he had no one to think of, but now your pretty smile would keep his mind company. 
Once you had your beer, you glanced around the apartment, taking it in. He had nice taste, the furniture was high quality, and even the TV looked like it was on the expensive side. Whatever he did, he was doing well for himself. But your eyes kept getting drawn to the couch. Maybe because you were currently lacking furniture yourself, it just looked so comfortable.
“König,” you started, not looking directly at him, “can I sit on your-” 
Face? Dick? Yes, whatever you wanted, “yes.” He answered as you finished your question, “-couch?”  
Oh. He deflated and took a breath to calm down. Of course you weren’t asking him to fuck you right now. 
You set your beer down and moved to the living room. “It just looks so comfy.” You explained as you sat down and pushed yourself back into the firm cushions. You chuckled to yourself as your feet hovered off the ground when you were seated all the way back. Yea, this couch was definitely meant for taller people. 
He grabbed your beer and set it down on the coffee table in front of you, to which you flashed him with another brilliant smile. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, “movie?” 
You looked at him as he sat down next to you, his knee gently bumping into yours. “Dinner and a movie? Careful, König, I might start thinking this is a date.” 
He laughed, boisterously, nervously, but relieved that you laughed with him. 
The movie was of no consequence, but he felt encouraged every time you giggled at one of his jokes. By the time he was done with his second beer, he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie, instead he was telling you stories about his missions, nothing classified of course, but the way you stared at him with wide eyes, shining in anticipation as if he were more interesting than the handsome man on the television fueled him. At one point he even rolled up his shirt to show you a nasty scar on his side. 
You gasped, eyes wide and looked up at him a little flustered as you asked him if it had hurt too bad.
“Ah, it was nothing! I barely felt it!” He assured you and cleared his throat as he rolled his shirt back down. 
“Wow! That’s crazy!” You exclaimed as you shifted in your seat too.
His eyes flickered down for a moment and he noticed the way your thighs squeezed together before you found a comfortable position. You were closer to him now, and when he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder, you didn’t move or give any indication that you were uncomfortable. He grinned to himself, nervous adrenaline finding its way into his blood and he had to actively stop himself from bouncing his knee.  
And that adrenaline faded as you nodded off to sleep next to him. Well, you had mentioned that you’d been driving all day, moving. So naturally as soon as you were comfortable you fell asleep. 
He was only slightly disappointed, it was still a better night than he could have hoped for otherwise.
-
You woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Your morning alarm. You sighed, you still had time before you really had to wake up, so you snuggled right back into bed. It was so soft and warm, but the temperature in the room was bordering cold, which made the warm and heavy blankets even more inviting. The subtle scent of peppermint and vanilla-
Wait!
You quickly sat up, eyes wide in confusion as you looked around a room you had never seen before. It took a moment for last night’s events to come back to you. Oh! This must be König’s room…but he was nowhere around.
You straightened out the bed, feeling slightly guilty about climbing into such a nice bed in your street clothes.
“König?” 
“Good morning!” He called from the kitchen.
You followed his voice, glancing at the couch on the way to the kitchen and saw that there was a pillow and blanket folded neatly on one of the cushions.
“Did you sleep on the couch?” You asked once you were near the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island counter. Like you, he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, mask and all, probably hadn’t wanted to wake you.
“Yes.” 
“You should have just woke me up. Sorry I kicked you out of your room. Did you carry me to bed?”
“Yes. Breakfast?” He asked just as he flipped an egg.
You glanced away and fought down a blush. What you’d give to have him carry you to his room while you were awake! 
“No, thank you.” 
“Are you sure?”
“I still have a lot of stuff to take care of, I should get started.”
“Oh.” He sounded so disappointed, and even his shoulders drooped a little.
You chuckled, “but thanks to you, I’m starting the day so refreshed!”
“Me?”
“Yea.” You nodded and smiled at him again, just like you did last night. “Your bed is so comfortable!”
“You like my bed?” 
“Mmhmm!” You flashed him a devious smile this time, “maybe next time you can join me.” 
The clatter of the spatula falling to the floor and him scrambling to grab it, echoed over your cute giggle. By the time he was standing up again, you were already by the door. “Bye, König!” 
“G-goodbye!” He stuttered after you, already dreaming of what next time would entail. 
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firelilyfox · 3 months
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Crush
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Dune : Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: None / just fluff
You have a crush on Paul & he might have the same feeling about you
This is my first fanfic on this platform & my first about Dune. Please forgive me for mistakes (English is not my first language)
comments/reblogs are appreciated :]
If you have any ideas what scenarios I could do next then let me know because this is fun!
——————————————————-
The sun was setting as you finally arrived. It was a long and hard day and you are longing for some comfort, but everyone of your friends was busy with drinking and making fun of the believers like Stilgar. Even your best friend Chani was nowhere to be found.
Only he was there. Paul Arteides.
The One. The Voice… or some bullshit like that. You weren’t one of the believers. In your eyes Paul is just a normal human being with a talent for big speeches.
You never really talked to him more than three words because the thought alone made you nervous. Since he joined the Fremen two months ago you had a little … crush on him. And obviously you weren’t really good at smalltalk. Especially when all of your people have eagle eyes on the boy you wanted to talk to.
But tonight he was alone. Nobody paid any attention to him as Paul was sitting in a shadowy corner by a small fireplace, sipping a drink. For a second you wanted to turn away and just going to bed like every other night, but something tells you to do the opposite.
„Can I join you?“ You asked bravely.
Paul looked up with a little smile on his face. „Please do. I’ve been waiting.“
You hesitate for a moment, frowning but you sit down right next to him. „What where you waiting for?“
He chuckled softly. „For someone like you to talk to me.“
„Someone like me?“ You asked confused and watching his smile getting even brighter. Paul has that kind of smile, that makes you want to smile too instantly. All you can hope for is that the flickering light of the fire conceal you’re blushing.
„Yeah. Someone who truly dislikes me.“
You smirked. „What makes you think that I dislike you? Oh, mighty Duke of Arrakis?“
A warm laughter escaped his lips and for the first time ever you really saw his face light up in enjoyment. „Oh please don’t say that. It sounds awful! I only said it because I was in the heat of the moment.“
„I liked it.“
His laughing froze for a moment and he looked surprised. „You liked it? Are you having a stroke or something?“
„No!“ You laughed. „I really liked it. Sure it was a litte … dramatic but in the end you have a talent to bring people together and give them hope. That’s pretty impressing.“
He shrugged his shoulders. „Nah, I’m just good at telling people what they want to hear I guess.“ He hesitated. „Chani told me that you weren’t one of the believers and that you think this whole Lisan al Gaib thing is just bullshit.“ Paul is offering you his cup and you accept to take a sip. Immediately the taste of wine fills your senses. While you process his words you lick some of the wine from your lips and catching him starring at them.
Did you just imagine how his gaze darkened for a second or did that really had an impact on him?
You clear your throat because all of the sudden your mouth got dry again. „You talked to Chani about me?“
A crooked smile shows on his lips. „Yeah I did. I was … I wanted to…“
„I thought you were good with words?“ You say to mock him with success.
„I am good with words! But you have the talent to make me forget what I wanted to say and how.“ His eyes are locked with yours and you are able to feel how your heart skips a beat.
You wanted to say something but your mind were blank. Paul moves closer to you, slowly to make sure that you were able to stop him at any time.
„I like how you unsettle me“, he whispered. You could feel his breath against your lips. „Every time I see you I find new strength. But I never found the courage to talk to you.“
„But you … you always seemed so … full of courage“, your voice was not more than a scratching.
„I’m good at pretending“, Paul swallows hard and his eyes darted to your lips again. „Sometimes.“
„Sometimes?“ You asked.
„I can’t pretend that I don’t want to kiss you right now.“
You wanted to say something, but before you were able to even catch a breath his lips laid on yours. Soft like the morning wind in the desert. His hand holding your cheek and pulling you closer as you gave in to the kiss. Your fingers find their way up his chest and into his curled hair.
A little moan escaped your throat as he intensifies the kiss and as an answer to your reaction, you could feel him smiling against your lips.
„I think Muad’Dib is enjoying his time with the Fremen!“ You two were interrupted by some drunk Fremen men cheering and applauding from afar.
Paul and you are giggling like kids. Both with red cheeks and swollen lips. „Your people like a good show, mh?“
„Only if the mighty Duke of Arrakis is involved.“
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tonicandjins · 1 year
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learning languages | lee donghyuck
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pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.
날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold
The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 
It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 
Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 
Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 
They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 
It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 
Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.
Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 
You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 
“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”
“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”
“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”
“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.
“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”
You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 
“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 
Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 
But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 
“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”
It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 
You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 
“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”
So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.
“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”
“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.
Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 
Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.
“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”
It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 
“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”
“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”
“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”
Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 
Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.
The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 
The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 
You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 
It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 
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약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise
When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.
Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.
By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.
It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.
Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.
Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.
Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.
Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.
Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.
It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.
Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.
“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.
“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.
“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”
“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”
He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”
You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”
Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”
“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”
This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”
“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”
“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”
You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”
Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.
Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.
“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”
You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.
“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”
Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”
“It is,” you confess.
Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.
Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.
“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”
He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”
Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”
“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.
“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”
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한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?
Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.
The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.
Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” you answer quietly.
Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”
He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.
Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”
Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.
“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.
The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”
You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.
“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”
“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”
He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”
Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”
You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”
Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.
You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.
“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”
You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”
He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”
“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.
“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”
You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.
You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”
Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.
“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”
“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.
He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”
You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.
“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”
“That’s mean!” you gasp.
“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.
“Donghyuck!”
“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”
You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”
“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.
Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”
The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.
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저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic
“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.
It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.
There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.
Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.
“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”
The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.
“She loves you already!” Mark comments.
You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”
“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”
“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”
Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”
Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.
It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.
Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.
Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”
“No way,” Mark protests.
“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.
“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”
“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”
Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.
Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.
“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”
Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.
“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”
This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.
“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”
“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”
He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”
“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”
Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.
Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”
“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”
Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”
You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.
“What?” you ask.
Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.
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먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.
Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.
Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.
“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”
You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.
“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”
You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.
Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.
It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.
And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.
“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”
“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”
Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”
You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.
“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”
Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.
“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”
“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”
It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.
“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”
“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.
Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”
“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.
Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.
You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.
You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.
It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.
The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”
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삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle
Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.
Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.
SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.
“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.
You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”
“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“
Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.
“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.
“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”
“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”
Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.
The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.
“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.
“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”
The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.
Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.
Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.
The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.
“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”
The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.
“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”
“Love… triangles?” you repeat.
“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”
You gulp.
“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”
This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.
“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”
You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”
Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.
It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.
Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”
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이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?
You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.
Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?
You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.
Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.
You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.
Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.
“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”
“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”
Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.
“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”
“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”
A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.
“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.
“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.
“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.
“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”
Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”
But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.
Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.
You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.
“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.
Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.
“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.
You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.
Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.
You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”
Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.
He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.
“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.
“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”
“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”
“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”
“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”
Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.
“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.
Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.
When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.
“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”
So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.
When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.
Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.
Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.
You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.
Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.
“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”
“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”
Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.
“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.
Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”
“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”
“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.
“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”
“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”
You laugh but urge him to continue.
“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”
“What does Mark have—”
“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”
Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.
“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”
You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”
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일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?
It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”
“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”
“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”
As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”
You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.
“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”
“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”
Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”
“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”
The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”
“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.
Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”
That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.
“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”
You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”
You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”
“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.
Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.
“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”
Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”
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계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons
When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.
From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.
The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.
The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.
But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.
In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.
Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.
“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.
“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.
Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”
Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.
Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.
It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.
The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).
Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.
“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”
Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”
Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”
“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”
Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”
Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”
Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”
“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.
Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.
“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”
Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”
“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”
“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.
Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”
“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.
“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”
You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”
It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.
With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.
Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”
Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?
Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.
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 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand
Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.
You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.
His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.
It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.
The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.
You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).
Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.
Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.
Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.
“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.
Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.
His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.
You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.
“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”
“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”
Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.
You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.
“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”
Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.
“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.
“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”
You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.
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천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home
Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.
You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.
Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.
Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.
Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.
Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.
Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.
They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.
You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.
“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.
“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.
“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”
“Please speak slowly.”
“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”
“I can’t understand you.”
“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”
“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”
Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”
“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”
“Huh?”
“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”
“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.
“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”
Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.
The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.
You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.
“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”
“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”
Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”
“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”
Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.
“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””
“Shit like?” Mark asks.
You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”
Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”
“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”
“Oh, Y/N.”
“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”
Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”
You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.
“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”
You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”
“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”
You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”
“Back home?”
You smile. “Yes. Back home.”
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갈망 (galmang) - longing
It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.
You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.
The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.
The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.
The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.
Of course, she knows.
Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.
Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.
They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.
“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.
“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”
“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”
Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”
“Mhm.”
“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”
Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”
It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.
But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.
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예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected
The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.
You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.
You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.
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미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you
“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.
“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.
“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”
Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.
“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”
“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”
He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.
“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.
Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”
You keep your arms crossed over your chest.
“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”
“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”
“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”
Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.
“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”
“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.
“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.
“But now like how you are a part of me.”
Oh.
“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”
He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.
“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”
Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”
Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.
“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”
But he doesn’t have to.
“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”
Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”
It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.
The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.
Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.
You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.
And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.
Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.
Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:
Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.
It’s only the beginning, it seems.
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The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.
It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.
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jeneveuxrein · 6 months
Text
safety net [1/2] (BLACKPINK Rosé)
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word count: 25.8K
part 1 (14.8K) | part 2 (11K)
(thanks to everyone who read the first story i published, truly appreciate it! this one's more plot than anything with a smidgen of you know)
“Hey.” 
You glance away from your screen to Park Chaeyoung standing in front of you, a determined look on her face. You prefer to call her Rosie, mostly because you know how much it irritates her, and you’re the only one that calls her by her English name.
“Uh hey Rosie,” You greet, slightly closing your laptop. “What’s up?” 
“I have a proposition for you,” Rosie leans over the table. “And please listen to it before you flat out say no.”
You raise an eyebrow, shutting your laptop completely. You start packing your belongings. 
“Wait what? What’re you doing?” Rosie straightens, taking a step back. 
“Well I’m hungry, and if I have to listen to you, I would rather do it while I’m eating,” You swing your backpack over one shoulder, adding, “You’re paying by the way.” 
As you walk away, you hear Rosie huff. You smirk when her arm loops with yours. 
“Fine,” You don’t have to look at her to know she’s pouting, but you wonder what, of all things, she needs you for.
Guess you’ll find out. 
--
The server places your orders in front of you, as Rosie sits across from you, sipping her iced coffee. You give a small thanks as your mouth waters at the sight of the burger. 
“You act like you don’t eat,” Rosie comments after you take the first bite. You flip her off after taking another bite. You hadn’t eaten lunch, so you were starving. 
“What do you want?” You ask before you continue eating, ignoring her comment. No matter what, you were ravenous. This burger would be gone before she finished.
“Okay,” Rosie takes a breath, composing herself. You realize that whatever she’s going to ask you is big, especially if she’s asking you. Though, you keep eating. “So you know how I’ve never been in a relationship right?” 
You nod. It wasn’t any of your business, nor did you pay any attention to her dating life specifically, but your friends, the girls mostly, commented a lot about her lack of dating, or really lack of interest in anyone.
“Well, there’s this guy who I’ve been talking to lately and I think I like him,” Rosie takes a small bite of her salad. “The only problem is my, I guess, experience, if you’re catching my drift.” 
This burger is too good for you to stop eating, but you nod anyways, having absolutely no idea what she’s referring to.
“I was wondering if you could help me in that department,” You raise an eyebrow, which you’re paying attention now. “I mean, will you show me how to have sex?” 
You choke, being mid-bite, that the burger falls apart onto the plate. You cough as Rosie’s suddenly next to you, hitting your back. 
“Oh my god, are you alright?” Rosie asks once you’ve stopped coughing.
“Yeah, I’m good,” You nod, waving off the server who was walking towards your table. “I’m good,” You repeat and Rosie takes her seat again. 
“So? What do you say?” 
“No,” You say flatly, staring at the deconstructed burger on your plate. Thankfully you finished most of it, but still.
“What? Why?” Rosie crosses her arms, eyes narrowing. 
It doesn’t faze you. You’re used to this, especially if it’s with Rosie.
“First let me ask, why me?” You attempt to put the burger back together, distracting yourself from the thoughts of Rosie like that.
“Well, it was Jennie’s idea really,” Rosie confesses, watching you rearrange the meat patty. “She said that if I want to feel comfortable doing stuff with Soohyun, I should just get it over with.”
Choi Soohyun, the rich pretty boy at your university. You’ve met him a few times, and he’s nice enough. You know his track record with women is on par with yours, but the difference is that he uses his father’s money to pull them in. You, on the other hand, come from a relatively wealthy family as well, but only Rosie and her three best friends know that. 
“And it has to be me?” You ask bluntly, appetite suddenly gone as you push the plate away.
“Yes,” Rosie nods enthusiastically, “As much as everyone calls you a playboy, girls talk. You allegedly know your way around a bedroom, and what better way for me to learn is from you.”
“Chaeyoung, absolutely not,” Using her real name was only saved for serious moments, and this was way too serious for a Tuesday afternoon. 
“Why not?” Rosie argues, rolling her eyes. “It’s just sex, isn’t that what all guys want?”
“I’m not sure what guys you’ve been hanging out with, but no, not all guys want just sex,” You mock, leaning back into the chair. “And shouldn’t your first time be special with someone you actually, I don’t know, like?” 
“In an ideal world, yes,” Chaeyoung answers, aggressively stabbing a piece of lettuce. “But I don’t care much for that stuff. You’re not answering my question, why won’t you have sex with me?” 
There was a list of reasons you could think of as to why you won’t have sex with Rosie. 
Number one, and the only one you were concerned about, being the history you have together. 
You’ve been sworn enemies since middle school, but there was a time before that where you were actually close. You grew up in the house next to hers, and your parents set up multiple play dates that she was someone you enjoyed spending time with. You considered her your best friend. It changed in middle school, for reasons you still didn’t know. You didn’t have the mental capacity at that age to fix it because you missed her, but you’ve never told her that. 
In high school, it was better, but you feigned indifference while she flat out ignored you. Unless your families were having dinner, but even then that consisted of snarky comments and petty arguments. The amount of times her older sister had to step in were too many to count. 
You thought university would be your fresh start, but lo and behold, you couldn’t seem to shake her presence from your life. You thought you wouldn’t see her as much since you were taking different subjects, but your friends ran in the same circle, so you saw her more than you needed to. 
“Do you not find me attractive?” Rosie’s question catches you off guard when you don’t respond. 
You’d be lying if you said no. You’ve been a witness to Rosie turning into a beautiful woman, but if she knew that, especially coming from you, her ego would skyrocket. A lot of the men, even women, on campus have a crush on her, but she typically rejected anyone because she was too focused on school and her dream of becoming a fashion designer—something she was very close to achieving with the amount of internships she’s been receiving from companies abroad. 
“Shut up, you know it’s not that,” You mumble, ignoring the smirk forming on Rosie’s face. “It’s you and me. We haven’t gotten along since we were like seven, now all of a sudden, you want to,” You pause, thinking of how to say it, “Have sex with me because of what you’ve heard?” 
“Look,” Rosie sighs, face falling. You detect the desperation, but she’d never admit it. “I know our relationship is complicated, but you’re the only guy I can trust to do this. Jungkook would blab. Taehyung would be an ass. And Yoongi’s too nice. Everyone else has a girlfriend who I very much would like to stay friends with. Can’t we just put the past behind us?” 
You didn’t want to further complicate things. At best, you two were civil. At worst, Rosie would be yelling at you along with repeatedly hitting your shoulder to take back whatever set her off. 
Adding sex into the mix? It’s a bomb waiting to go off. 
“I don’t know, Chaeyoung,” You say softly, pushing your plate away. “As much as you’re a pain in my ass, I don’t think I could do that with you. It would feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” 
Her face softens, and she reaches for your hand, “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, I’m taking advantage of you. It’s not like we have feelings for each other right?” 
You don’t, as far as you’re aware, but you have always, and will always, have a soft spot for her. You may not have gotten along over the years, but you’d still have her back. If she means what she says about her trusting you out of all the friends she has, it’s important. 
“No,” It feels off saying that, but you ignore it. “Fine,” You relent. You couldn’t believe you were agreeing. “But we have to set rules.”
“Really?” Rosie beams, clapping her hands. “Yes yes, of course.” 
“Uh, first rule, we’ll do it at my place since I live alone. I don’t need Jennie or Lisa or Jisoo hovering,” You say, which she nods. You love the girls, hell you’ve slept with Jennie on a couple occasions, but they can be nosey and overly critical. 
“That makes sense. Rule number two, no sleeping over,” She makes a face, “I will literally bring you home if it’s super late, or I’ll just bring you home in general.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” Rosie rolls her eyes. 
“I know I don’t, but I’m not budging,” You’re firm about that. Your parents would kill you if anything happened to Rosie and you were the last person to see her. 
“Rule three, if you sleep with other people, please let me know and use a fucking condom,” Rosie says, “I don’t want my first time to end up with a disease.”
You’re slightly offended because as much as you have sex, you are safe. Even when girls don’t want to use protection, you do. 
“Obviously I will.”
“Good,” Rosie nods, “Last rule, no feelings. If at any point you or I feel something more than our mutual disdain for each other, we stop.” 
“Okay,” You roll your eyes, “Like I’d ever fall for you, but fine.” 
A pit forms in your stomach after saying that, but again, you brush it off.
“Right back at ya,” Rosie winks, smiling brightly that she accomplished her mission. “So what’re you doing tonight? Can we start?”
You nearly choke on your saliva, eyes bugging out as Rosie looks completely serious. 
“Uh,” You don’t have anything planned. You still have to finish the budget report your professor assigned, but it wasn’t due for another week. “You want to start tonight?”
“The sooner, the better right?”
“Okay,” You nod, suddenly nervous about this whole situation. “Okay,” You say a bit more confidently. “You’re paying for this.”
“I know,” Rosie chuckles, signaling to the server for the bill. 
What did you get yourself into?
--
You open the door for Rosie, letting her in first before following. You shut the door while she takes off her shoes, neatly placing them to the side as you take off your coat. 
“So this is your place,” Rosie comments, walking along the wall as she inspects the photos. It is her first time here, not that she was never welcomed. Your apartment has always been your safe place, only allowing a select few here.  “Did you take these?” 
“Yeah, I’m minoring in photography, so,” You shrug, walking past her as she stares at a photo from Jennie’s birthday. “I’m going to change into sweats, did you need anything? Water? Soju?” You offer because you’re considering taking a shot before you get started to ease your nerves. 
Rosie laughs, shaking her head, “Soju? Really? You need that?” 
“Don’t make fun of me. It isn’t every day that one of the hottest girls at school asks me to teach her to have sex,” You mutter, but Rosie hears you loud and clear. 
“You admit that I’m hot then?” You swear you can hear her smirking behind you. 
“Fuck off, help yourself to whatever,” You roll your eyes as she laughs. 
You don’t bother entertaining her any longer, making your way to your room. You change into something comfy—grey sweats and a white shirt. You hadn’t expected company tonight, nor had you expected having sex. It’s been about a week since, even though your ex-girlfriend messaged you about hooking up for fun the other day. You didn’t even respond, knowing that would just end up messy.
When you return to the living room, Rosie sits on your couch, legs crossed as she types away on her phone. You’d bet she was texting Jennie. 
“So how do you want to do this?” You ask awkwardly, scratching the back of your neck as you sit next to her. You leave a decent amount of space in between, not wanting to seem too eager. 
“I don’t know,” Rosie sighs, “Is there a way we can just ease into it?” 
“Like making out and stuff?” You’ve never spoken about sex so mechanically, that this is a first for you too. 
“I guess? I don’t really know how to start this,” Rosie says unsurely, looking away. 
“Hey,” You reach over, a finger gently tilting her chin to look at you, “There’s no pressure okay? We can just watch TV first and go from there. We literally don’t even have to do anything. As long as you’re comfortable.”
You watch her lip quiver. You hope she doesn’t cry. The last girl you made cry was Nayeon when you broke up with her.
“Okay,” Rosie nods, leaning into your hand. “Thanks again for this. I know this whole situation is awkward.” 
“Stop,” You wave dismissively, rubbing her cheek with your thumb. “It’s important to you, so I guess by default it’s important to me. Your pace,” You smile. 
When Rosie smiles back, you can feel something itch behind your rib cage. You quickly shake that away before retracting your hand. “Here,” You grab the remote, “Put something on, I’ll get us drinks.”
“Oh there’s this new Netflix reality show I want to watch,” You hear Rosie say as you walk to the kitchen. 
You didn’t have that much to offer, since you hadn’t had the time to head to the store. You do opt for a couple bottles of soju to ease both of your nerves along with water because hydration matters. You peruse your pantry and there’s a bag of unopened chips, figuring that would be good to have too. At least for yourself to keep your hands busy. 
When you return to the couch, placing the items on the coffee table, you see the opening credits of what looks like university students? 
“What’s this about?” You ask. This time, you sit closer to her, so that any shift in your leg, your knees would touch. 
Rosie goes on to explain the premise of the show, where people are about to be of legal age and how they form relationships in two different settings. She heard about the show from Lisa who binged it with Jennie in one night. 
“Is this sappy?” You pour a shot each, handing Rosie the glass. 
“Probably, but it’s wholesome,” Rosie raises the glass, “To my virginity?”
“I’m absolutely not toasting to that,” You roll your eyes, taking the shot without waiting. 
Rosie scoffs, downing the drink in one go before putting the glass on the coffee table. “You’re so annoying sometimes.” 
You don’t respond, instead choosing to pour another shot as the contestants of the show enter the classroom. You usually don’t drink this much on a weekday, but this situation warrants it. It feels surreal to be with Rosie, alone, in your apartment of all places. You couldn’t remember the last time you were willingly alone with her, but the thought of those memories were tucked away. 
“Here,” Rosie grimaces at the drink. “Just one more.” 
Rosie relents, taking the shot without making another annoying toast. You smirk before following. The liquid goes down smooth, but you feel the effects starting. Your cheeks feel warm, soothing some–not all–of the nerves. 
You lean back into the couch, throwing an arm casually over the cushion. Rosie automatically leans into you, sighing deeply before resting her head on your shoulder. 
“You smell good,” Rosie comments, snuggling deeper into your side. The compliment throws you off because she hadn’t said anything remotely nice to you in years. 
“Uh thanks,” You bring your free hand to scratch the back of your neck. Rosie doesn’t say anything else, nor do you. You settle in, letting what’s on the screen take your attention. 
The show is corny, but you understand why Rosie said it’s wholesome. The sense of innocence and pureness everyone has when it comes to relationships is something you miss. You hadn’t had that kind of outlook in years, which slightly makes you want to go into your future relationships more honest about how you feel.
But Nayeon cheating on you over a year ago left its damage on you. 
You’d never be disrespectful towards women, but you were upfront that whatever you did with them would never be serious. You couldn’t let it get too intense. Sure they’d always want more, but you couldn’t give yourself to someone like that again. 
At least not yet. 
“What’re you thinking about?” Rosie asks after a few minutes, resting her hand on your stomach. 
“Nayeon,” You say simply. 
She raises her head to look at you, “Huh, what why? Didn’t you break up like last year?”
“This show’s making me a little sentimental,” You say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 
“Why’d you two break up anyways?” 
“What’d you hear?” You prod, curious as to what Nayeon told people. 
“According to Jennie, who heard it from Sana, Nayeon was tired of arguing,” Rosie furrows her eyebrows as she remembers what she heard. 
That’s one way to put it. 
“Ah well I guess so,” You shrug. 
“There’s more to it huh?” She's as perceptive as ever. 
“She cheated on me,” Rosie’s eyes widened. “We got into an argument about her meeting my parents. She kept pushing the issue, but you know how my parents are. She storms out and next thing you know, I’m getting a call from Jungkook to come to this party to pick up Nayeon cause she’s wasted.”
You remember that night clearly, something you wanted to very much forget. 
“I got there. I’m looking all over for her, Jungkook and Taehyung have no idea where she went. We pretty much split up looking for her, and lucky me, the first door I opened, Nayeon’s naked, on top of some guy.” 
Rosie sits up straight, crossing her legs on the cushion as she faces you. The concerned expression etched on her face has you believing she almost cares, but you don’t. 
“And she sees me, which immediately sobers her up. All I could do was nod, telling her that we’ll talk in the morning,” The memory still hurts to think about. “Nayeon, being Nayeon, followed me out, apologizing, saying it was a mistake.”
Rosie takes hold of your hand, and you let her. Letting this out feels nice since you hadn’t told anyone what happened. You told Nayeon to tell people whatever she felt was best, and you’d keep the real reason a secret. 
“Anyways, next day, we talk and she’s sorry, of course, but she just didn’t understand what the big deal was. It’s not that I didn’t love her, cause I did, but I didn’t think we were there yet for her to meet them,” You sigh, shaking your head. “But yeah we broke up. I didn’t care what she said, and I didn’t defend myself when Sana and Jihyo cornered me, calling me an ass. I just started to sleep around, which probably was the reason why I got that playboy reputation.” 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Rosie says quietly after a minute, the words sinking in. 
You smile sadly, “It wasn’t for anyone to know, but it’s okay. It really is. Relationships are messy, which is why I avoid any emotional connection with girls. Not because I think less of them, but because I think the least of myself in that regard.”
“Stop,” Rosie squeezes your hand, forcing you to look at her. “I don’t know how you are in relationships, but I’m sure that whoever you’re with is lucky.”
“You’re just saying that,” Self-deprecation is something you’ve mastered in the past year.
Rosie tugs your hand with enough force so your face is in front of hers. You could feel her breath against your skin, the faint smell of alcohol lingering. “Stop,” She whispers. “I’m not.”
Blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the sudden confession of why you are the way you’ve been. 
You kiss her, bringing your lips to hers. You sense her freeze, but she sighs softly after a moment. It ignites a fire in your chest, wanting nothing more than her close to you. 
You pull away, leaning your forehead on hers. You open your eyes first to see hers closed. 
“Sorry, I-”
“No,” Rosie cuts you off, cupping your face before kissing you again. 
Out of pure reflex, you pull Rosie on top of you, straddling your thighs as you wrap your arms around her waist. She lets out a small oomph, which you pause, but she continues moving her lips against yours. 
You dip your tongue in between her lips, earning a moan as she threads her fingers in your hair. A shiver goes down your spine as she tugs lightly, a move that turns you on immensely. Your cock stirs as her kisses become firmer, more sure. 
Rosie’s body starts to move. It’s subtle, but her hips slightly shift, causing you to pull away, groaning. 
“Chaeng,” You pant, hands gripping her waist to steady her. 
“Am I doing something wrong?” Rosie asks softly, chest heaving as she rests her forehead on yours. 
“No,” You kiss her on the nose. “You’re doing everything right. I just have to control myself,” You let out a breath. 
“Would it be the worst thing if you lost control?” Rosie murmurs, pecking you softly on the lips. 
The question goes straight to your cock. It doesn’t help that she’s seated right on top of it that you have to remember that this isn’t about you.
Yes is what you want to say because this is still new to her, and as lame as it sounds, like you actually care about her, you do want to make this enjoyable.
“I don’t know,” You shrug, loosening your grip. “But I don’t want to rush into it. Small steps right?”
“Right,” Rosie nods, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So what next?” 
“Uh,” Your brain’s short circuiting because all the blood in your body seems to have rushed south. “Maybe just rock your hips and see how it feels?”
“Like this?” She gently rolls herself over you, testing the waters. 
“Is it doing anything for you?” You grit out. 
“I’m not sure, let me try again,” She rolls her body again, but with a little more pressure that she moans softly. “That did.”
It definitely did something for you because your cock stiffens at the contact. 
“Just do what feels good for you,” Your head falls back as she repeats the motion, undulating her hips over your erection. “Yeah just like that,” You sigh, guiding her movements along your length. 
All you feel is Rosie. She’s wearing leggings, but the friction over your sweats overwhelms your senses. You act on impulse, kissing her again. She returns the kiss with the same enthusiasm, grinding down. 
You didn’t think dry humping would get you this worked up, but the small moans Rosie lets out against your lips has you hoping you don’t make a mess of yourself. 
“Fuck,” Rosie moans, tearing her lips off yours as her rhythm falters. 
It leaves her neck exposed, so you trail your lips along her chin, peppering soft bites that has her gripping your shoulders tightly. 
You feel her nails digging into your skin. Her pace quickens before her body suddenly seizes, jerking on top of you, as she moans loudly.
Fuck she’s coming. 
Doing what you can to prolong her orgasm, you rock up into her, hoping you’re hitting her clit at the right angle. Her body freezes, shaking that you didn’t have the reflex to control your own body before cumming into your sweats, groaning in the crook of her neck. 
You hadn’t had a visceral response like that in years, but that was the hottest thing you’d ever experienced. The fact that Rosie got off by rubbing herself against you goes straight to your head. 
Rosie’s breathing heavily against you, playing with the hairs on your neck as you try to regulate your own breath. 
“I—fuck, I’m so sorry,” Rosie says softly, resting her butt on your thighs. 
“What?” Your voice comes out hoarse. “Why are you apologizing?” 
“I don’t know,” She buries her head into your neck. 
“That was hot,” You confess, placing a soft kiss on her neck. Her body shivers at the contact, causing you to smile.
“Really?” She sounds so unsure, that you don’t know how else to make her believe you. 
“Really,” You pull back to her, avoiding your gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a little wild, but she looks hot either way. 
Maybe it was the release of hormones after an orgasm that could be clouding your thoughts, but you find her so attractive at this moment that you want to kiss her again. 
“Did you, you know?” Rosie glances down, biting her lip. 
“Uh,” You force out a chuckle. “Yeah… Sorry about that. I should probably change.” 
“Right,” Rosie’s eyes stay looking at your crotch before she shakes her head. “Right,” She repeats and moves off your lap. 
“Give me a few and I’ll drive you home, okay?” You stand, placing a hand over the wet spot on the fabric. 
“You really don’t have to, I can call a car.”
“No,” Shaking your head, “I insist.”
“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes,” And just like that, it’s back to normal. 
“Yeah and you used me to cum, so,” She throws a pillow at you, which you easily dodge, laughing as you walk to your room. 
--
--
Can we meet tonight? 
The words glowing on your screen as you walk out of the building, just finished your last class of the day. 
It’s been about a week since Rosie asked you. You hadn’t seen her, but she occasionally sent you articles regarding sex and if you ever experienced such things. The one that had you almost drop your phone was if you ever made a girl squirt, which you haven’t, but you explained not all girls can. 
Instead of replying back with a message, you call her. 
“Hello?”
“Where are you? We can do take away,” You offer, walking in the direction of where she might be. 
“I’m in the music building with Jennie,” You immediately turn around to go the other direction. 
“Okay I’m on the way, I’ll be there in a little,” You hang up without waiting for her to respond. You’ll probably get a slap or two, but it’s not like it matters. 
By the time you reach the music building, Rosie and Jennie are outside, talking with another person. You can’t see who it is, but as you get closer, it’s Nayeon. 
Fuck. 
It wasn’t like Nayeon and you were on bad terms. You were always polite and treated her with the same respect you would like anyone else. It would just look suspicious to be walking alone with Rosie since she always made remarks about the weird feeling she got when you were in the same vicinity. She described it as unresolved sexual tension, but it never felt like that to you. 
“Oppa,” Jennie greets, her gummy smile forming as you walk up to them. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes as they dart between you and Rosie because of course she knows about the arrangement. 
“Hey,” You smile, waving awkwardly to Nayeon. 
Nayeon gives a small hi while Rosie slaps your shoulder, “That’s for hanging up on me.” 
“Okay,” You rub where she hit. “Ready to go?” You ask, reaching for Rosie’s bag without thinking. 
“Uh?” Jennie’s eyes widen while Nayeon’s narrow at the gesture. “How nice of you?” Rosie reluctantly hands over her bag. 
You don’t know what came over you because you definitely didn’t just carry a girl’s bag, which Nayeon was very aware of. She knew you only carried stuff for the girl you’re dating, something she experienced firsthand. 
“My way of saying sorry for hanging up on you,” You say smoothly. Her bag is heavy, which you hope they can’t tell you’re struggling.
“Nayeon was telling us about a party this weekend,” Jennie says. 
“It’s Mina’s birthday,” Nayeon says softly, eyes on you. “You should come if you’re free.” There’s a hopeful tone in her voice.
“Um,” You’re put on the spot, wracking your brain for any excuse, but Rosie saves you. 
“Don’t we have dinner with our parents? If we get back early enough, you could probably make it.”
You try to ignore the way Nayeon’s face falls, but you can’t ignore Jennie’s confusion since she obviously would’ve known. 
“Oh yeah, you’re right,” You play along. You hadn’t had a family dinner in months, but it was a somewhat believable excuse. “I’ll see if I can make it.” 
You listen as the girls say bye, Jennie opting to walk with Nayeon to catch up. When the two women leave, Rosie tries grabbing her bag back. 
“What’re you doing?” She huffs when you don’t let go. 
“I can carry my own bag, you know,” Rosie walks in front of you, clearly annoyed. 
“I know, but just let me do this for you.” 
“You’re most likely giving me an orgasm tonight, you’re doing enough,” Rosie rolls her eyes, attempting once again. “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” 
“Fine, here,” Her comment pisses you off, but she has a point. The university playboy holding the bag of one of the most wanted girls on campus? That would surely be part of the gossip mill. You hand over the bag, a muttered thanks makes you roll your eyes. 
“You’re paying for dinner tonight,” Rosie states. 
You honestly already planned to, but you nod anyway. 
--
“Can you take your shirt off?” Rosie asks, out of breath, as you hover over her. 
“Uh yeah,” You lean back, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere to the side before bringing your lips back to hers. 
That same show plays in the background, unopened food forgotten on the coffee table. The plan was to eat then fool around, but Rosie had something else in mind. 
“Okay don’t let this get to your head,” Rosie says against your lips, in between kisses, trailing a finger over your abdomen, “But you’re actually hot.” 
The muscles flex under her touch, that you pull her body to the edge of the couch cushion, “I know,” You smirk, dipping a hand underneath her blouse. “Is this okay?” You ask. 
“More than okay,” Rosie spreads her legs wider to let you rest in between. 
You grind yourself against the apex of her thighs, thankful she wore a skirt today. She moans as it spurs you on to do it again. Mimicking the motion of thrusting in and out of her has your imagination running wild as to what it will be like when you’re actually inside her. 
“Fuck,” Rosie grips your arms as you continue the motion. “Don’t stop.” 
You won’t until she cums, and her back arches as she rolls her hips down to meet your thrusts. After one particularly hard thrust, her body tenses and bingo. 
“There?” You breathe out as you hit the same spot again. She nods, as you watch her face scrunch up. “Gonna cum for me?” 
“Yeah,” Her eyes open, gaze locked in between your legs. “Fuck, Jennie was right. You’re huge.”
As if your ego couldn’t get any bigger. You’re sure she felt just how big you were last week, but she most likely didn’t see it. It probably didn’t help that you were wearing sweats that accentuated your size. 
“Thanks,” You grunt, too focused on her pleasure and your own. 
You flip her skirt up, mouth watering at the sight of her choice in lingerie. A simple lavender thong with a small bow at the waistband has your hips rutting into her faster. 
“Fuck you’re so hot,” You bite your lip, head thrown back as she moans louder. 
“I think I’m—oh shit,” Rosie’s body tenses in your hands, back arching as her orgasm washes over her. You feel her clit pulse through your sweats that you continue grinding against her. 
You’re more composed this time and don’t prematurely cum. However, your cock hurts from not having a release. You’ll likely just suffer through it and deal with your problem after you drop her off. 
You don’t move from your position, keeping the pressure of Rosie’s cloth-covered pussy against you. You might not get to cum, but it still feels nice. After a few minutes of her regulating her breathing and you thinking of everything not related to fucking her, she smiles up at you. You return the smile, tickling her skin that she squirms in your hold. 
“Stop!” She slaps your arm. “You know I’m ticklish.” 
“I know,” You fold over, resting your head on her stomach. “Was that okay?” Her skirt hasn’t moved, and you’re trying very hard not to touch her there. 
“Yeah, that was… something,” Rosie sighs, placing her hand lazily on your head, lightly scratching. “Can you do something else since we’re already here?” 
“Sure, what?” You look up to Rosie biting her lip. 
“Can you touch me?” Rosie asks softly, adding, “Like down there?” 
Your palm twitches at the request, hell, your cock twitches too. 
“Uh, yeah,” You push yourself up, kneeling in between her legs. They try to close, but with how you’re positioned, it doesn’t go very far. “Just let me know if anything hurts, I’ll stop.”
Rosie nods, giving you the signal to do something. What you really wanted to do was find out how she tastes, but you tuck that thought away for another time. There will be a time in the future where that’ll happen. 
You reach under her skirt, gently pulling the fabric down. She kicks it away, leaving her completely bare from the waist down.
You’re fucked. 
Your mouth waters at the sight of her. Your gaze must’ve made her nervous because she quickly covers herself. 
“Shit, I’m sorry,” You pull back. 
“No, no,” Rosie shakes her head, crossing her legs. “I’m just nervous.”
“Hey,” You move to sit next to her. “We don’t have to do anything.”
“Can we go to your room?” Rosie offers weakly, which you nod, standing, extending a hand out. She gives you a small smile, taking it before you pull her up. She stumbles a little, but you’re there to catch her. “Lead the way?” 
You guide Rosie to your room, nerves prickling at you because no woman has ever been in your room except Nayeon. You had a strict rule of sleeping with women at their place, never yours. Rosie notices your hesitation when you stand in the doorway, asking if you were okay. 
“Um, this is going to sound bad, but the last woman that was in my bed was Nayeon,” You say quietly, letting go of Rosie’s hand. 
“That’s okay?” Rosie says unsurely. “If it’s too much for you, we can go back to the couch.” 
You shake your head. It isn’t that big of a deal, you were probably overthinking it. “No, it’s okay. I just felt like telling you that,” Which was true. You wanted to tell Rosie that, even though there wasn’t a reason to. 
Rosie kisses your shoulder softly before walking around you towards your bed. She slips underneath the comforter, which you follow right after her, laying on your side as she’s on her back. 
“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else tonight,” You prop your head on your hand, staring at her as she looks at the ceiling. 
“Yeah I’m okay, more than okay. It just feels…” Rosie trails off, pouting a little as she tries to find the words. She looks pretty cute like this, but you immediately shake that thought away. You aren’t supposed to be having thoughts like that when this whole situation was transactional. “Intimate, I guess. To be in your bed like this.” 
“I suppose so.” 
“But yeah let’s keep going,” Rosie glances at you before turning to face you. “How should we…?”
A question pops into your mind, “Have you ever touched yourself?” 
“Err, yes?” 
“What does that mean?” You chuckle.
“I guess I have. I’ve never gotten off on my own though. I’ve put a finger inside myself, but it felt weird so I just stopped,” Rosie blushes, turning away. 
“Uncomfortable?” You ask softly, bringing your hand to rest on her stomach. 
“I guess? I don’t exactly know what I’m doing,” Rosie mumbles. 
“Let me, yeah?” You move so you’re sitting up, back against the headboard. “Come here, sit in between my legs.” 
Rosie complies, settling in between your legs as she lays against your chest. You kiss the crown of her head, sliding your arms around her body. 
Now this feels intimate, and oddly feels right to be with her like this. Again, you shake that feeling away, reminding yourself that this is just sex. 
A finger traces down her stomach aimlessly, hoping it relaxes her. She sighs contentedly before resting her head on your shoulder. You kiss her neck, and she giggles. 
“That tickles,” Rosie says shyly. 
“But in a good way right?” You murmur, bringing your hand lower. Her legs automatically widen and her breath hitches as you apply light pressure on her hip bone. 
“Yeah,” Rosie sighs, shifting against your cock. 
“Good. You trust me right?” You dip your hand in between her legs, resting on her pubis. Her hands find your thighs to hold on to, nodding. 
You swipe a finger in between her folds, slowly, and she’s absolutely soaked. Your cock twitches at how wet she is. You’re sure you’re leaking into the fabric of your sweats. 
“You’re wet,” You don’t recognize your voice. 
“I’m sorry?” Rosie moans as you swipe through again, gently brushing over her clit. 
“No, it’s fucking hot,” You murmur and her nails scratch at your skin. “So fucking hot.” 
You repeat the motion a few times, eliciting soft moans as she squirms against you. Your other hand carefully unbuttons her blouse, and when the last button comes undone, you cup her breast, squeezing lightly. 
“You’re being a tease,” You smirk against her skin, nipping lightly as she drops her head down. 
“Just making you feel comfortable,” You chuckle as you swipe down, dipping your index finger inside. 
“Oh shit,” Rosie throws her head back when you pull your finger out. 
Your finger circles her entrance slowly as her legs spread wider. This position isn’t the best and you’ll likely strain your wrist, but you couldn’t care less about yourself at the moment. You insert your finger in again, but this time, you don’t pull out, letting your finger rest inside her. 
You imagine your cock inside her, stretching her out. Your cock literally aches to be inside her because if this was how she felt—tight, warm, wet—you’d bust. 
“Move,” Rosie commands through gritted teeth, her hips rolling down to get more of you inside her. 
“So impatient,” You whisper, biting her skin softly. “It’s like you want me or something.” 
“Oh fuck you,” Rosie’s nails digging into your skin as you start to move. 
“You will,” Your voice comes out low, slowly moving in and out of her slick. “Not tonight,” Unfortunately, “But you will.” 
“You’re so—fuck,” Rosie chokes on her words when your palm brushes over her clit, the penetration overstimulating her. 
You smirk, freeing your hand from her chest and bringing hers under yours, “Touch yourself.”
Rosie easily obliges, rubbing her fingers over her clit as you begin pumping a smidge closer. Her pussy’s still tight, but her body’s slowly welcoming the intrusion. Based on the blissed-out expression on her face, eyes closed, she’s biting her lip. 
“Don’t be shy Rosie,” You kiss behind her ear, “Let me hear you.” 
Her eyes open, and the lust is there. She moans louder as her fingers move faster, causing you to match her pace. Your cock aches, wanting some sort of relief that your hips lightly thrust against her backside. 
“Fuck,” Is all you can say because you want to fuck Rosie, especially with how her walls are squeezing your fingers.
“Cum,” You say simply and she does.
Her body spasms, back arching as she presses her butt directly on your cock. She lets out the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard, drawn out as her free hand reaches for your neck. Her walls aren’t letting your fingers move, so you opt to gently move them to prolong her orgasm.
After a minute, or two, Rosie falls limp in your hold, her arms flailing over your thighs. You slowly pull your fingers out, peering over her shoulder to see her slick. A nasty thought comes to you, and you bringing your fingers to your mouth, cleaning them to see what she tastes like, and dear fuck you want it directly from the source. 
“You’re fucking gross,” Rosie pants softly, weakly lifting her arm to swat your hand away. 
“You wanna taste yourself?” You brush your finger against her lips, and she makes a disgusted face. “Eh, if not now, later.”
Rosie tries to sit up, but she falls back into your chest, resting her head on your shoulder as you bring your arms around her stomach. You kiss her neck, murmuring, “Was that okay?” 
“It was great,” Rosie nods slowly, turning her head slightly to kiss your cheek. “Thanks for that. I see the appeal in it now.”
You chuckle, chest vibrating against her body, “Yeah sex is pretty great.” 
“I’m so tired,” Rosie yawns.
“Uh,” You’re still hard, which you hoped Rosie was too blissed out to notice. “Let me just shower first and I’ll take you home.” A cold shower was needed. You’ll probably give yourself relief when you get home, but you don’t think you’ll be able to survive the drive. 
“Okay,” Rosie yawns again, “But can we stay here for a few more minutes?” 
“Of course.”
Rosie sighs contentedly, snuggling into your chest. You typically didn’t cuddle after, but with her, it felt warranted. You wouldn’t say it felt right, but it didn’t feel wrong. You were comfortable doing this with her, and you hadn’t felt that since Nayeon. 
You would be lying if you said you hadn’t missed Rosie. Child-you would be happy to spend time with her, but adult-you knows what this is—sex. A knot forms in your stomach at the thought, but your rational side knew you  and her weren’t ever going to be together. 
Weird, but you dismiss the feeling completely.
“I’ll give you some clothes to wear,” You offer, nuzzling your chin into her. 
“They’ll give you shit, you know that right?” Referring to her friends.
“Tell Jennie she never got anything from me,” You quip, earning a light slap on your leg. “What! She didn’t!” 
“Stop talking about my friend who you’ve slept with after you just gave me two orgasms,” You didn’t need to see her face to know she rolled her eyes. 
“Sorry,” You mumble, kissing her neck. 
Rosie laughs, a sweet airy laugh that has your heart fluttering, and you think that it’s a sound you’d want to hear more often. 
--
--
Someone ruffles your hair as you’re zoned in on finishing this expense report and you hear laughter behind you. 
“What the fuck,” You pull your headphones out to see the offender. 
Rosie. 
With Lisa right behind her. 
“Sorry,” Lisa peeks her head over Rosie, “You just looked too focused that I wanted to mess with you.” 
“What do you two want?” Your eyes narrow as Rosie smiles. It eases your irritation, but still.
“Figured we’d say hello. Chaeng saw you, but didn’t want to disturb you. I, however, did,” Lisa answers, stepping forward. There’s a shit-eating grin on her face. 
“Hey,” Rosie says softly. “I’m sorry. I told her not to.” 
“It’s okay,” You shrug, checking your watch. 
“Do you have plans tonight?” Lisa wiggles her eyebrows, eyes darting to Rosie, who slaps the back of her head. “Ow.”
“I have a game with Yoongi in about an hour.” 
“Oh we should watch!” Lisa nudges Rosie, who rolls her eyes. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” 
Rosie gives you a look, as if she’s waiting for you to invite her yourself. You smile, giving a small nod. 
“Okay fine,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head, but she smiles at you anyways. 
“Are you good oppa? I’ve seen Yoongi play, and he’s pretty good,” Lisa asks as you start to pack your stuff. 
“I guess you’ll see,” You didn’t like talking about yourself. You considered yourself decent, but there would always be someone better. 
When you finish, you decide you wanted to tease Rosie. You wait until Lisa’s a few feet away, leaning forward, “I’m usually pretty riled up after a game, so I hope you’ll come over after.” 
The blush on Rosie’s face has you grinning, which gets even wider when she gives you a small nod.
--
“I don’t get why you do that.”
“Do what?” You ask, mouth full of mandu. 
“Say you’re not good, but then score twenty points like it’s nothing.”
“So you were keeping track?” You smirk, reaching for another mandu on the table with your chopsticks. 
“No, Yoongi told me after the game,” Rosie huffs, crossing her arms as she slouches into the couch. 
“It’s okay if you did, I’m flattered you paid that much attention to me.” That earns you a slap, but you couldn’t care. You played the whole game so you were starving. 
You’re back at yours, just hanging out. You really had no intention of doing anything with Rosie tonight, even if you did tease her about being riled up. As much as you’d hate to admit it, you enjoy spending time with her as of lately. 
Lisa gave you a thumbs up when Rosie told her she’d be leaving with you. No one seemed to notice when you two walked out together, but Yoongi did text you asking where you went since the team usually went out after. 
“I have a question.”
“Go for it.”
“Do you ever feel frustrated after we you know?” 
“Uh,” The question catches you off guard. 
It’s been two days since, and you can admit it was a struggle after feeling her cum on your fingers. You thought about having sex with someone to give you some relief, but that thought had the knot in your stomach tightening. 
“Frustrated in the sense I need to release,” You answer honestly, but quickly followed up with, “But it’s not that big of a deal. I took care of it.” The tips of your ears burned at the implication.
Rosie sighs next to you, shaking her head, “Okay can I be honest?” 
“Uh of course?” 
“I feel bad,” You were about to bite into the last mandu, but you stopped. “I feel like you’re always making me feel good, but I feel like I’m doing nothing in return.��
You place the mandu back in the box, dropping your chopsticks with it. 
“Believe me you are,” The memory of Rosie’s face as her orgasm hit was something that could not be forgotten. 
“But it doesn’t feel like it!” She throws her hands up dramatically. “I haven’t even seen your you know yet.”
“Oh my god,” You chuckle. “Just say it. It’s not a bad word.” 
“Cock?”
“No.”
“Penis?”
“No.”
This conversation is getting nowhere. 
“Take it out,” Rosie says suddenly.
“Only if you say cock,” You raise an eyebrow. 
“No.”
“Then no cock for you,” You poke her nose after she huffs, hitting your leg. 
After a minute, Rosie shoves her face into your chest. She mumbles something that you can’t quite make out, asking her to repeat. 
“Cock,” Rosie says quietly, rubbing her face deeper from embarrassment. 
“Was that so hard?” You smile, kissing her head. “Do you really want me to ‘take it out’ as you so eloquently put it?” 
“Yeah,” Rosie mumbles, and you swear there’s a pout. 
“You do it,” You offer, shifting slightly to wrap an arm around her. “No pressure Chaeng. Do whatever you feel is right and if anything hurts me, I’ll tell you.”
Rosie shyly asks if you could move to your bed, which you happily oblige. You swoop her in her arms, causing her to scream and slap your chest the whole way to your room. You laugh as she curses at you, but it’s fun for you and you know she thinks it is too. 
“You’re annoying,” Rosie comments after you drop her on the bed. “Literally the most annoying person I know. How do girls put up with you?” 
“I can think of a few ways that make up for it,” You sit on the edge of the bed, facing her. 
“Arrogant too,” Rosie adds, shifting her body so she’s next to you. 
Neither of you say anything while you’re sitting. You’re trying to think of how to guide Rosie while she stares at the floor. An idea pops into your mind, as you scoot until your back is pressed against the headboard. 
“What’re you doing?” 
“Seduce me,” You say simply, patting the space next to you. Her eyebrows furrow, but she’s right back next to you in no time. 
“How?” 
“We’ve done a few things together, I’m sure you could figure it out.” It wouldn’t take much to turn you on. Your control slips every time Rosie’s over that your body has a mind of its own. 
She could kiss you and you’d be hard, as embarrassing as that is.
“Um okay,” Rosie bites her lip as she looks at you. 
You smile, winking even, that makes her roll her eyes. 
Rosie leans forward, kissing you softly on the lips. You keep your hands still, but your lips move easily against hers. She lets out a small moan when you dip your tongue into her mouth. Her arms circle around your neck, pulling you closer.
The blood in your body rushes south, waking your cock as Rosie presses against you. Kissing her has become one of your favorite things even if you’ve only done less than a handful of times. As someone who has had a healthy sex life, it’s scary how easily your body reacts to her.
She detaches her lips, placing soft kisses along your jawline. You let her, relaxing into the headboard as your eyes close.
A groan escapes from your lips when Rosie places her hand over your crotch. 
“What?” She pulls back, a concerned look etched on her face. Her hand doesn’t move though. 
“Nothing, you’re doing great,” You take a breath, “Just caught me off guard.” 
Rosie makes a sound, but goes back to kissing your face. Her hand starts to move, palming your cock over your sweats.
Your body immediately reacts, hardening underneath her touch. She smirks against your neck, “Well hello.” 
You laugh, shaking your head before kissing her sweetly on her forehead, “It’s a bodily reaction, what do you expect?”
“I think your body likes me,” Rosie brings her lips to yours before sitting straight. In a swift move, she swings her leg over you, cupping your face and bringing you in a bruising kiss, not giving you a chance to answer.
You instinctively rest your hands on her waist, pulling her body flushed against yours. She lets out a moan as your grip tightens. 
You’re too lost in the kiss to notice Rosie sneaking her hand in between. Her fingers brush against the waistband of your sweats, abdomen tightening at her touch. You mumble a pathetic please because all she’s doing is riling you up. She smirks against your lips, dipping her hand to actually touch you. 
Your head’s spinning and your hips involuntarily thrust into her hand. Given the space, it’s a little tight, but Rosie’s hand wrapped around you has your control slipping faster than before. You pull your sweats down so you’re fully free.
“Is this okay?” Rosie asks in between kisses as she slowly moves her hand up and down your length.
“Fuck yes,” You groan, detaching your lips from hers as your head falls backs. 
Her hand’s soft, velvet-like, as she strokes you. You’re almost scared to look down because you feel yourself leaking as she cups the tip. She tentatively spreads it over you, that it’s making you lose your mind. 
You open your eyes to Rosie intently staring at her ministrations, her tongue slightly peaking out. 
“You can squeeze a little, but—ow shit!” Your hand shoots out, holding her wrist as you gasp. 
“Oh my god,” Rosie automatically lets go, “I’m so sorry!” 
You cough, catching your breath. You’re already sensitive, but it felt like Rosie was about to rip your dick off. “I’m fine,” You cough again, “Just a little lighter.” 
“Sorry,” Rosie mumbles, looking away. 
You place your hand over hers, together enclosing over your cock. “Like this,” You slowly move her hand under yours, applying enough pressure. Her hand’s smaller than yours, so she can’t completely fit around your girth. 
“How does it feel?” Rosie asks softly. 
“Good,” You nod, eyes rolling back as you let go of her hand. “So good.” 
Rosie experiments with her grip and pace for a while, going faster at times while squeezing the right amount that has you seeing stars. You’re too focused on her hand that you don’t notice her move off your lap. 
Something warm envelopes your cock and your eyes shoot open to Rosie’s mouth around the head. 
“Fuck,” You grip the bedsheet, nearly tearing it off. “Give me a warning next time,” You moan. 
“Sorry,” Your cock fucking pops out of her mouth as she continues to stroke you, “It seemed warranted. Too much?” 
“Not enough,” Your abdomen tenses as she engulfs you again, going farther down your length. 
Her tongue licks your tip as you watch her cheeks hollow out. You're mesmerized as she moves her head up and down your length, and each time she gets lower. 
“Has anyone ever deepthroated you?” Rosie asks, catching her breath, but her hands don’t remain idle. 
“Uh,” You barely hear her question, “I don’t know,” You couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else at the moment, but if she wants to try, you’ll let her. 
“Can I try?” Rosie places a sweet kiss on the tip, making a face as a smidge of precum gets on her lip. 
“By all means,” Your eyes roll back. Your hand itches to hold onto her head, but you’re scared of forcing her to take more than she can. 
Rosie’s lips are around you once again, and the tip hits the back of her throat. There’s a sharp inhale, and you’re not sure if it’s from her or you, but that doesn’t deter her. 
“Chaeng,” You grit out and your hand moves to the back of her head, threading your fingers in her hair. You don’t push down, but her throat relaxes and takes you all the way. “Fuck,” Your fingers fist through her locks, keeping her there until her finger taps on your thigh. 
You immediately let go, and she comes off your cock, a slight dribble of drool on her chin. 
“How was that?” Rosie smirks. 
“Either make me cum or fuck off,” Your eyes narrow, challenging her that she doesn’t reply, instead taking you down her throat once more, swallowing around your length that you cum without warning. 
You try to pull her off as your release shoots down her throat, but she’s adamant to take all of you. Your eyes roll back when she swallows, the pressure becoming too much as your hips thrust up into her mouth. 
Rosie’s mouth is dangerous, and you’re thanking whatever deity for her skills. You’ve had your fair share of blow jobs, but she’s number one in your book. You’re definitely never going to tell her because practice makes perfect, and you know she’s a perfectionist. It might be a little selfish, but you’ll gladly be willing to take whatever she gives you until this is over. 
Once your orgasm and she’s drained you for all that you’ve had, your hand relaxes, dropping to the side. She slowly comes off your cock, overly sensitive, but she licks the underside and that has your head spinning. 
“So,” Rosie sits in between your legs, wiping her chin with the back of her hand, “How was I?”
You’re still trying to catch your breath, but you weakly get out, “There’s always room for improvement.”
“Really?” Rosie raises an eyebrow, eyeing your now-soft cock. “I drained you in less than fifteen minutes.” 
“I’ve been pent up,” You mumble, eyes closing. “I blame you.”
“Just admit you think I’m hot,” Rosie’s suddenly hovering over you, hair tickling your face. 
“Move your hair,” You try to push her off, but you’re bone dead. Playing a game followed by this has your body exhausted. 
“Admit it,” Rosie kisses your lips, a slight tang on them. “I did,” She adds. 
You groan, wrapping an arm around her so she’s fully on top of you, “Why do you need to hear that?” You know she knows you think so. 
“Cause,” She kisses you again, leaving her lips on yours.
“Cause what?” You sigh, lazily moving your lips against hers. 
Rosie’s tongue dips into your mouth, short circuiting your brain before murmuring, “Cause it’s you.”
Your eyes feel heavy, wanting to pass out and you actually might. Something washes over you before your body shuts down. You don’t know why, but you tell her, “You’re not hot, you’re beautiful,” before sleep takes over completely.
(You wake up a few hours later, alone, but not without a note on your nightstand, groaning at Rosie’s cursive— 
Thanks handsome guy <3 see you around. 
ps I called a car, and before you beat yourself up, it’s okay)
--
--
It’s stupid. 
You’re stupid. 
A fool, some might say.
You’re calling yourself a fool. 
What compels you to be at Rosie’s apartment door, waiting, holding a bouquet of roses, without even asking if she’s home, is beyond you. 
It’s a risky move, the longer you wait for her—or anyone for that matter—to open the door. 
You immediately felt guilty waking up to Rosie’s note. You didn’t even return the favor, and you’ve been wanting to. In your mind, showing up at her place, uninvited, with flowers, was a way to make it up to her before asking if she wanted to come over so you could thoroughly make it up to her. 
The door swings open and it’s Lisa, clothes wrinkled and hair all over the place. You don’t comment on it because you know something’s going on between her and Jennie, but it wasn’t your place to ask. Instead you ask, “Hey, sorry to bother, but is Rosie in?” 
Lisa smiles, and your face falls, the answer doesn’t need to be said, but she invites you in anyways. 
You don’t know why you just don’t leave, but you enter their apartment, slipping off your shoes while awkwardly holding the flowers. 
“Here, let me take those.” They’re out of your hands before you could respond. “Make yourself at home.”
You’ve been here a handful of times, mostly when there was a party or someone needed a ride home, but it feels off being here. 
Or does it feel that way because she wasn’t here? 
You follow Lisa to the living room, seeing Jennie seated on the couch in the same disheveled appearance. Her eyes widen when she realizes it’s you here, but she doesn’t say anything except for a polite hello. 
Neither of the women say anything, but Lisa prepares the flowers in the vase. You stare at the coffee table, trying to find any words to explain why you’re here. 
“So what brings you here?” Jennie asks a question she knows the answer to. 
“Uh, I thought Rosie would be in,” You answer, scratching the back of your head. You notice the silent exchange between the two, but the sad smile that forms on Jennie’s face says enough. 
“She’s out at the moment,” Jennie bites her lip, thinking of what to say. “She should be back in an hour or so. You’re more than welcome to stay.”
“I probably shouldn’t,” You sigh, realizing just how stupid it was for you to show up. Your thoughts stray that she’s out with Soohyun, but that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 
“She’s having dinner with Soohyun,” Lisa says and you watch Jennie’s eyes narrow, rolling her eyes. 
“Lisa.”
“What? He should know,” The woman shrugs, acting as if it’s not a big deal. 
And it’s not. 
At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself. 
“Rosie can do whatever she likes,” It comes out harsher than you intended, but you’re feeling something that you don’t want to acknowledge. You stand, “I should get going. Uh, you guys can keep those. No need to tell her that’s for her. Sorry they’re not blue Jen,” You add, knowing those are her favorite. 
Jennie gives you a sympathetic smile, shaking her head, “You’re sweet, you know that right?” 
“Sure,” You shrug, walking towards the door. “Sorry to bother you both,” You bow after slipping your shoes on.
“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Jennie asks, meeting you by the door. 
“Yeah, it’s okay. Please don’t tell her,” There’s a fifty-fifty chance Rosie would find out, odds being Lisa telling her where the roses came from. 
“Why not? It’s sweet you brought her flowers.”
“I don’t really have a reason as to why,” You do have a reason, but you’re not sure how much Rosie shares with them. 
Jennie looks like she doesn’t believe you, but she doesn’t press you anymore, nodding. “See you at Mina’s?” 
“Maybe,” You answer vaguely, remembering that you actually have to see your parents this weekend sans the Parks. “I have a business meeting with my parents, so I doubt I’ll make it back in time.” 
“With Chaeng?” Jennie raises an eyebrow. 
“No, just me, so I’ll be in Seong-buk,” You grimace at the thought of having to sit in this, but your father’s adamant it’s good exposure for you. 
“Well I hope you can make it,” Jennie reassures, hugging you briefly before taking a step back. 
“You’ll see me if I do,” You wink. “Thanks again Jen.”
Once the door shuts, you sigh. You couldn’t believe you showed up at Rosie’s place, unannounced. What were you expecting? You’re still not entirely sure, but you’re disappointed nonetheless. It’s almost been two weeks since this arrangement started and you’re scared you’re getting attached. You’ve had longer flings and felt zero attachment to them. 
You question why it feels different, and you toy with the idea of joining Jungkook in Hongdae to remind yourself that you don’t get attached. A wave of guilt passes through you, which you’re torn on what you should do. 
“Fuck it,” You mumble to the empty hallway. 
--
You hear the door knock and pause the show you’ve been sort of watching with Rosie. You’d rather drown in the river than admit you actually like this show. 
You aren’t expecting anyone except the food delivery, so you are surprised when you open the door to see Rosie. 
“Uh hey?” You greet. One look at her and you know she’s upset based on the fire in her eyes. 
“What the fuck,” Rosie spits out. 
Great. Fucking Lisa. 
You aren’t given the chance to ask anything as she barges through the door. You turn around once the door’s shut, and she’s seething. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Why the fuck did you show up at my place?”
“Drop off flowers for Jennie and Lisa,” You answer noncommittally, crossing your arms as you lean against the door. 
“Bullshit. Tell me why,” Rosie steps forward, invading your space. Her perfume makes you dizzy, but you can’t dwell on it too much since she looks like she’s about five seconds away from ripping your head off. 
“What do you want me to say?” You deflect. You didn’t want to get into the reason why—the actual reason—that had you take the train back to yours instead of a club. 
“The fucking truth!” She throws her hands up dramatically, shaking her head. 
“I came over because I wanted to make it up to you for completely knocking out last night, happy?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the door and walking past her. 
“No, I’m not—hey! Get back here, I’m still talking to you,” Rosie’s hand encloses over your wrist. 
The move forces you to turn around, reflexively pulling her into you so that you’re face-to-face. 
“Don’t,” Your voice comes out low. “I’m being honest. Your turn now, why are you here?” 
“Because,” Rosie tries to get out of your grasp, but it’s futile. “As soon as I get home, Lisa fucking singsongs that you dropped by with flowers to see me. Then she told me she mentioned to you that I was out with Soohyun.”
You let go, dropping her hand completely before taking a step back. Hearing his name makes you sick, but you refuse to admit why. 
“How was that?” You ask, tired, because you knew what you signed up for. 
“Do you really want to know?” Rosie crosses her arms, glaring. 
“I don’t, but you’ll tell me anyway.”
“It was good. He’s funny. He’s polite, offered to pay the bill, and walked me to the door,” Each word digs at you, but you don’t let it show. “He wanted to come in to say hello to the girls, but I told him I just wanted to sleep. He asked me out again.”
“And? Is there going to be a second date?” 
“Yes,” Rosie says flatly. 
“Good, happy for you,” You hoped you sounded as detached as possible. “Now you still didn’t answer why you’re here if you ‘just wanted to sleep’?” 
“Because I’ve been fucking frustrated since last night,” Rosie sighs, shaking her head. “I didn’t think I would be, but you fucking fell asleep. I tried dealing with it myself, but that made it worse.” 
All you’re imagining is Rosie, in her bed, touching herself, which has you immediately hard. But you’re a little ticked off at the moment to fully enjoy that imagery.
“Why didn’t you ask Soohyun to help you?” It’s a low blow, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Rosie pushes you, like actually pushes you, with enough force to move. 
“You’re a fucking asshole,” Rosie seethes out, turning to walk out. “I planned on coming over after the dinner for you to take care of the problem you created.”
You’re faster, grabbing her arm to pull her body flush against yours. 
“So you couldn’t cum?” You whisper. 
“Fuck you,” Rosie struggles to get out from your hold, but you have one arm securely wrapped around her waist. 
“I don’t think we’re there yet,” You murmur, “But there is something I still haven’t done.” 
“I’m mad at you,” Rosie ignores your suggestion. 
“If I do what I want to do, I promise you won’t be mad.”
“Doubtful,” Rosie pouts, relaxing into your embrace. 
“I’m sorry,” You mean it.
“I’m still mad,” She huffs, burying her face into your chest. 
“Let me make it up to you,” You tilt her head up, forcing her to look at you. “Please?” 
“Fine. On the condition I sleep over.”
You freeze, vividly remembering the rules you set in place that she wouldn’t sleep over. 
“Our rules?” 
“You broke the first one by coming over without telling me,” She reasons. 
“Do you want to spend the night?” You ask nervously. You hadn’t spent the night with a girl since Nayeon. Every time you had sex, you’d leave before they woke up, or right after. 
“Yes,” Rosie rocks on her tiptoes to kiss you briefly, wrapping her arms around your neck. “It makes things easier for us.” 
“Can I still bring you home in the morning?” You ask shyly, looking away. 
“You better,” Rosie smiles. “I’m still mad though.” 
You roll your eyes, using your strength to pick her up, wrapping her legs around your waist, “I’ll make it up to you.” 
Rosie squeals, hitting your shoulder as you carry her towards your room. “Don’t drop me!” 
You chuckle, shaking your head, as you kick the door open, “You’re fine, trust me.”
You do drop her on the bed and Rosie huffs as she sprawls out on the bed. You take in her appearance—a simple black dress that falls mid-thigh with her hair half-up. She’s beautiful, but you won’t say it out loud—even though you feel like you’ve told her. 
“You’re staring,” Rosie comments, resting on her elbows, a small smile tugging at her lips. 
“Can you blame me?” You drop to your knees, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. “Do you trust me?” You ask softly, locking eyes with her.
“Yes,” And that’s all you need.
— 
You wake up slowly, yawning and stretching. Your arm hits a body, causing you to almost jump when you notice a body’s pressed to your side. You remember that Rosie stayed the night after spending a good amount of time and effort in between her legs. 
She had physically yanked you away from overstimulation, but it was worth it. The sounds she made along with how she tasted was something you wanted to do again. You barely scratched the surface, but you were addicted. 
You had to give her credit because she came three times. You tried to go for a fourth, but she mustered enough strength to kick you away. You wouldn’t let up until she wasn’t mad anymore. By the second orgasm, she wasn’t, but you had to make sure. 
When you were done, cleaning up the mess you made, you kissed her softly as she laid limply on the bed. “Thanks,” She mumbled, sighing contentedly as she played with the hairs on the back of your neck. “I’m not mad at you anymore.” 
“I know,” You smirked, kissing her again before laying your head on the pillow. 
Rosie wanted to return the favor, but you shook your head, embarrassed to share that you were touching yourself while eating her out. She found out anyway because you couldn’t lie to her. It went straight to her head, teasing you that you couldn’t help yourself. She kissed the pout away before falling asleep. 
You check the clock on your nightstand, “Fuck,” You mutter, stirring Rosie awake. 
“What’s wrong?” Rosie’s voice comes out hoarse, slightly turning her body. 
It’s almost noon, and you haven’t finished looking over the reports and proposals your father sent over last night. 
“I’m so sorry,” You sit up, shaking your head in frustration. “I would make you breakfast, but I have to review some things for tonight.” 
“What’s tonight?” You watch her rub her eyes, and you can’t help but think how cute she is. 
“I have a business dinner with my parents.” 
“Oh.”
“Yeah…” You trail off. 
“Do you want me to go with you? I’d just have to stop by my place to change, but I can go,” Rosie offers, turning as she pulls the blanket over her. 
Your heart flutters. If there’s anyone that knows your parents, it’s Rosie. She’s known them since you were kids, seeing just how much pressure was put on you being their only child. It sucked a lot when things changed, but you couldn’t dwell on it that much. You were just trying to appease what they wanted, even though you knew it would never be enough. 
“Alice is home too,” Rosie adds when you don’t respond. “I can just hang out with her until you’re done.” 
“Are you sure?” You didn’t want to impose on her plans for the day. 
“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t,” Rosie sits up, the blanket falling slightly down her body. You glance and remember she was wearing one of your shirts that was a little too big on her. “Mina’s party is later, so we could go after if you need to blow off steam.”
“We’ll see how I feel,” You scoff, knowing exactly how you’d feel after. “But thanks Chaeng, it means a lot.” 
“Eh, I know how they are, so,” Rosie shrugs, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek. She rests her head on your shoulder, laying an arm along your stomach. “I’m sorry it hasn’t gotten any better.” 
“It’s okay,” You say a little too quickly, but she doesn’t press the issue, snuggling deeper into your side. “Thanks,” You mumble. 
“You could always do whatever you want, they’d come around,” Rosie suggests, tracing a finger up and down your abdomen. 
“Yeah, like being a photographer would make enough money for them. They’d see it as a hobby, which it is, not as a career,” You say bitterly, shaking your head at the memory of when you suggested it that one time. 
“Well you could always take pictures of me, and you know, I know people in fashion that could see your portfolio.”
“Chaeng, you’ve done enough for me,” You’re shocked that she’d even offer this. You knew that she had connections, but she worked hard for those. It would feel wrong to actually take her up on it. 
“You’ve also done enough for me,” She pokes your cheek. “Just think about it, the offer’s there.”
You don’t know what to say. You deflect with humor and sarcasm because it’s what you know, especially with her, “Careful, it sounds like you actually like me or something.”
“Oh fuck off,” Rosie slaps your chest, giggling. 
She doesn’t confirm or deny it. You’re left wondering if she ever could. 
--
The car’s silent except for the music Rosie asked—demanded—to play, connecting her phone before you could say yes. You’re on your way back to the city, finished with the business meeting with your parents and some overseas executive who brought his daughter too. 
You were completely blindsided. It was a business meeting disguised as a fucking introduction to a ‘potential’ wife that your parents shamelessly arranged on your behalf. You weren’t that much of an ass to be completely rude to the girl—Kazuha—who also didn’t want to be there. She flat out told you what the meeting was, which you appreciated her honesty.
Nakamura Kazuha was pretty, an innocent air around her that would have you interested if it was under normal circumstances. Your parents coincidentally left you alone for a bit to get to know each other, and she seemed like a great person. She was shy, but polite. She was funny, in a quiet sort of way where you had to be paying attention. 
Kazuha told you she had a boyfriend that she wanted to be with; however, her parents didn’t approve. It was a point of contention because it wasn’t like Satoshi was a bad person, he just didn’t meet the standards they had—in other words, not wealthy.
You shared that same sentiment, explaining your last relationship with Nayeon and how she was a great person, but you knew your parents would never approve. 
“Who was that girl you dropped off?” Kazuha asked once dinner was over. Your parents off to the wine cellar. 
What? 
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Kazuha smiled. “We arrived the same time you did and I saw you walk a girl to the house next door.”
“Oh uh that’s Rosie,” You answered vaguely. 
“She’s pretty. Are you two dating?” 
“What? No, she’s just a friend,” You rushed out, but Kazuha wasn’t dumb. She could tell that you weren’t just friends. 
“Interesting. I don’t know many guys who walk friends to the door, but,” She shrugged, “It’s none of my business. That’s sweet of you though.” 
When you only nodded, she smiled again, moving on to talk about other things. The thought of her observation struck a chord, causing you to dwell on it for the rest of the evening. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” Rosie’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 
“Do you want to hear about it?” 
“I do,” Rosie nods in your periphery. 
You tell her everything. 
How the meeting wasn’t actually business for your parents. How they purposely set you and Kazuha up. How your father tricked you into preparing for something that was already signed. How your mother boldly asked when you and Kazuha would see each other next—when she lived in another country. How you were pissed and irritated and upset. How you were just tired of it. 
“I mean, fuck, at this rate, I might as well just go along with it because every single choice is made for me,” You hit the wheel while stopped at a redlight. 
“Hey,” Rosie coos, reaching for your hand, the tension melting away from your touch. “Don’t say that.”
“Well it’s not like I have any other fucking choice, unless I end up with someone who’s as rich or richer than my family, they’ll never approve. I’m literally setting up my future wife for a lifetime of disapproval. Look at Minjun, his wife hardly even attends family gatherings,” You scoff. 
You saw firsthand how your cousin’s marriage was affected by someone your family deemed ‘not good enough’. You also admired how Minjun stayed with his wife when everyone, even you, said not too because it wasn’t worth the headache. 
Rosie tugs your hand to look at her, a sad smile etched on her face, “Well then you just haven’t met that somebody yet.”
“How can I when I’m literally getting put into arranged marriages at this point?” You sigh, tired from the dinner. 
“You will, I’m sure of it,” She squeezes your hand, interlacing your fingers together. “You’re smart. You’re kind. And don’t let it get to your head, but you are good-looking. Anyone who gets to be with you would be lucky.” 
Your ears burn from her compliments. The comment of your looks does go to your head, but you don’t want to ruin the moment. 
“Thanks,” You mumble shyly, looking away as you start driving. 
“Are we going to Mina’s?” Rosie asks, keeping your hand on her lap. 
The use of we has you confused. 
“Uh, I was just going to drop you off and stay in. I don’t feel very social anymore. I’m still worked up,” You roll your eyes, turning right onto Mina’s street. 
Rosie squeezes your hand, her thumb rubbing your skin, “Are you sure? It could help you get your mind off things.”
“The only thing that would get my mind off anything is I fuck someone,” You say crassly. 
“I’m right here,” Rosie lets go of your hand, huffing.
“Yeah but I have a bit of aggression at the moment. I can’t exactly take you roughly,” You pull up to the curb, a few houses down from Mina’s. 
“And why not?” Rosie unbuckles her seat belt, crossing her legs on the seat to face you. 
“You think really low of me if I’d have your first time be like that,” You reason, rolling your shoulders as you shut the car off. 
Could you imagine taking Rosie roughly? Absolutely. You know how flexible she is, and you could have fun with her body if she gives you enough time with her. You wanted to prolong this arrangement because time’s running out. You weren’t sure if it would be a one and done type of thing, but you didn’t want to ask. 
“I don’t,” Rosie scoffs, leaning forward to kiss you softly on the cheek. “But I hope we’ll get there.” 
The kiss sends a shiver down your spine, melting into the car seat. You turn to kiss her on the lips, a simple peck that she deepens, pulling you into her that has your body on fire. 
“Can I convince you to stay?” Rosie murmurs, sneaking a hand to your slacks. She palms you through the fabric, causing you to groan against her lips. “I think I can.” Her hand deftly lowers the zipper. 
“Chaeng,” You tear away your lips, head falling back on the headrest as you watch her take your cock out. 
“Yeah?” Rosie moves over the center console, dropping her head. 
“We’re in public,” Your voice comes out hoarse as her head goes lower, tongue slipping out to lick your tip. 
“It’s dark,” Rosie kisses your cock, “Better be quick then.”
In a swift move, Rosie’s mouth encloses over you and you’re a goner. 
--
You laugh at the nonsense Jungkook says in an attempt to distract the pair across the table from missing the shot. It works, and you’re one cup away from winning again.
You feel lighter than you did an hour ago. All thanks to the woman who happens to be sitting very closely to the man she’s interested in. Although, you’re trying your best not to dwell on the sinking feeling in your stomach every time you glance her way. 
“Dude you got it,” You nod to Jungkook who’s a bit drunk, but he swears his coordination gets better the more he drinks. 
Your best friend smirks, winking at the other team before smoothly tossing the ball and it falling perfectly into the lone cup. 
“And that’s game,” Jungkook puffs his chest out while the other two roll their eyes. “Who’s next?” 
“Take Yoongi for this round, I need some air,” You say without waiting for his response. You walk off to the kitchen, grabbing a beer before you make your way to the backyard. 
A few people stop you, mostly girls, asking what you’re doing after. You give a noncommittal answer because you would like to leave with Rosie, but the odds of that happening are low. 
The cool air hits your lungs and you let out a breath. A much needed one with the amount of people that are inside. There’s a few people, but they’re all in their own conversations, not paying you any mind. 
You find an unoccupied couch, deciding to sit alone before Jungkook finds you. You’re not drunk, but you’re not sober either. You’re in that limbo of a few more drinks might put you over the edge. 
Your mind vividly replays Rosie ‘convincing’ you to stay. She didn’t need to do much to get you to cum, but she did well to get you there in less than five minutes. You were almost tempted to say fuck the party and head back to yours, but after she swallowed you for all you had to give, she patted your head and said it was time to go inside. 
“Can I sit with you?” A voice immediately brings you out of your thoughts, your gaze falling on your ex-girlfriend. 
“Sure,” You scoot over, making some room on the couch. 
You take a sip of your beer, letting the bitter liquid sit in your mouth as you gather your thoughts. It wasn’t that it was hard to be around Nayeon, it was just awkward. You two were cordial, and you knew–thanks to Sana–that she wanted to get back together. You tried avoiding her, but running in the same social circle made it difficult. 
“How’s your night?” Nayeon asks after a few minutes. 
“It’s good,” You answer politely. “How about yours?” 
“Same.”
The noise from the house fills the silence when neither of you say anything else. 
You were with Nayeon for almost two years, and there was never a lull in the conversation. She would either be asking you a million questions or she would be telling you about her day in great detail. You tried to be friends with her after you broke up, but you didn’t think it was worth it. 
“How are you and Chaeyoung?” Nayeon asks nonchalantly that you pause mid-sip. 
“What’s there to know?” You finish your beer, placing the glass bottle on the table. 
Nayeon shrugs, sipping her wine, “I saw you two walk in together.” 
“We had dinner with our parents,” You lie, but it was more a half-lie since you actually did have dinner with your parents, just separately. 
Nayeon makes a humming sound before saying, “Your relationship with her was always interesting to me.” When you don’t ask what she means–she’ll tell you anyways–she continues, “I knew you two quote unquote hated each other, but regardless of that, there was always something that made me think you, or her, might’ve had feelings.” 
“What the fuck are you talking about, Nayeon?” You sigh. The way this conversation was going instantly killed your mood. 
“It’s hard to explain,” Nayeon shrugs, taking another sip. “But she likes Soohyun right? Or they’ve gone out together.” 
“I don’t know who Rosie likes, and it’s honestly none of my business,” You were getting irritated, especially since his name was now in the conversation. 
“I’m not saying it is your business, but all I’m saying is to be careful. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 
“That’s rich coming from you,” You snap. “You literally fucking cheated on me over an argument.” 
“You don’t think I regret that?” Nayeon’s voice cracks. “I’ve regretted that ever since.” 
“It’s too fucking late for that Nayeon, I don’t want to hear it,” You stand, blood boiling. “I’m fucking over this.” 
First the dinner with your parents, now this. You didn’t want to rehash the past with Nayeon. It was over. You got cheated on by a girl who was your first serious relationship, someone you loved, and thought about a future with. Then said-girl was telling you to be careful with Rosie, of all people. 
You knew what you were doing with Rosie, but for Nayeon to say what she said struck a chord.
Why? 
That was something you weren’t ready to admit. 
You walk away from Nayeon, leaving her alone. As soon as you enter the house, Jungkook calls you over, but you beeline for the front door without a second glance at Rosie. 
(But if you did, you would’ve seen her stand up from her seat next to Soohyun.) 
“Hey!” Rosie calls out to you. You don’t turn around, your pace picks up. “Hey, what the fuck happened?” Her hand encloses around your wrist, stopping you as soon as you reach your car. 
“Nothing,” You pull your hand away, jaw clenching as you try to compose yourself. 
“That’s a fucking lie.” 
You turn around, eyes glaring to the same expression, “Just let me be. I don’t want to deal with anyone else tonight.” 
“Too fucking bad, I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what happened,” Rosie crosses her arms. “I also have your fucking keys dumbass.” 
Fuck. 
“Give them to me,” You reach around her, knowing she put it in her back pocket, but she was faster. She took the keys out of her pocket, holding it up in front of your face. “Chaeng.” 
“You’re not fucking driving in this state. You’ve been drinking and you’re obviously pissed for whatever reason. I’m calling us a car and we’ll get yours in the morning. Don’t fucking fight with me about this,” Rosie glares, raising her chin defiantly. 
“Fine,” You roll your eyes, leaning against your car. 
You watch Rosie pull her phone out, calling a car or whatever. The alcohol was catching up to you. You close your eyes, trying to calm your nerves because you were still pissed off. You shouldn’t have taken it out on Rosie, but you weren’t expecting to see her for the rest of the night. 
You feel arms wrap around your back, Rosie’s perfume suddenly invading your senses, as she rests her head on your chest. 
“Let’s just sleep tonight okay?” Rosie whispers against your chest. “You’ve had a long day.” 
“I’m sorry,” You mumble, realizing your mistake. 
“Don’t be,” Rosie’s hand finds its way underneath your shirt, soothingly rubbing your lower back. 
“What about Soohyun?” You ask, doing your best to not sound like you were watching her. 
“He’s not relevant right now,” Rosie says softly, looping her fingers through your belt loop. “I’ll talk to him this weekend.” 
It annoys you a little bit, but you can’t help but think you’ve won some non-existent, one-sided competition with Soohyun. Rosie’s leaving with you and not him. 
You’re treading a thin line, crossing into dangerous territory. You’re hoping that once you have sex, all these feelings and thoughts that have been plaguing your mind will vanish. 
Because getting involved with Rosie was never on your mind. 
--
--
--
(It was way too long to fit in one post -_-)
819 notes · View notes
finelinefae · 2 months
Text
home (doctor!harry)
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synopsis: y/n is homesick and harry wants to help her
word count: 7.7k
contains: fluff, Filipino y/n, doctor harry, medical talk, homesickness, brief moments of discrimination, workplace bullying, rude co-workers
a/n: happy soft girl sunday!!! this is such an interesting and personal topic for me because so much of this was inspired by my mama and her own personal experiences of leaving her home in the Philippines and moving to an entirely different country to create a better life for herself. this one is for all of my girls who are struggling with homesickness, who work in a job because they have to not because they want to, who try to support their families, who work in healthcare, whose first language is not english, who feel as though their identity is muddled up and so much more- this is for you and this is for my mama too.
. . .
‘You have just as much right to be here as everyone else.’
That’s what Y/N had been telling herself since she had left for work in the early hours of this morning. She had barely slept a wink last night, tossing and turning as her mind was riddled with things that hadn’t happened but weighed so much. 
Her backpack was filled with the things she listed weeks before. Her scrubs, a packed lunch, water, a few snacks to eat throughout the day and a couple of things loose at the bottom that jangled with each step she took towards the tube station. On her feet was a new pair of trainers her mother had bought her before she took the plane to a country she had never stepped foot in before the beginning of this month. 
“Mahal kita, mamimiss kita.” I love you, I will miss you. Her mother had said as she dropped her off at the airport. No tears in her eyes because they were all in Y/N’s as she clenched her fingers around the handle of her small suitcase that was just enough to last the first few months out of the three years she’d be living away from her family. 
“Mama,” Y/N cried, her family weren’t criers but today she was. 
Y/N’s mother shook her head, refusing to allow herself to cry when this was meant to be good. “Gagawa ka ng mga magagandang bagay.” You will do such good things. Her mother wiped away her tears, “Mananatili pa rin ako dito sa loob ng tatlong taon at magiging mas mahusay ka.” I will still be here in three years and you will be someone better. 
Y/N was homesick as soon as the plane lifted off the ground of her home country. The trouble with planes was the window was always too small and she could only ever look down and not behind. Once they flew over her country of the Philippines, she took in everything she possibly could - the bright colours of the sea and the sand on the beaches that stretched for miles. 
She would come back and she would be better, for her family. 
As she stepped off of the tube train and walked up the steps towards the light, she took the sunshine peeking through the gaps of the grey clouds in the London sky as a good sign. Even though things weren’t easy, it doesn’t mean they were bad. 
The hospital was huge in comparison to the hospitals where she had done her training back home. It took her a while to find where the entrance was without going in through the emergency department but eventually, she found her way to the front desk. 
"Hi," Y/N said softly, feeling unsure. Even though she was good at English after years of studying it during school, she still doubted herself, especially around fluent speakers. It made her feel embarrassed and more of an outsider than she already was. “I’m Y/N, I’m here to pick up my ID badge.” 
The woman at the desk, peered over her glasses and smiled, “Is today your first day?” 
“Yes, I’m a healthcare assistant,” Y/N offered a smile, as best as she could despite her nerves. 
The woman’s fingers clacked against the keyboard, “I’m afraid your ID badge has yet to be delivered so I’ll have to give you a temporary one.” 
Y/N’s smile faltered, “Oh okay,” 
“Let me print one out for you, I’ll be right back.” The receptionist slid off her chair. 
Y/N stood to the side, her eyes darting around the hospital. There were many healthcare workers already at work, pushing patients around in wheelchairs or walking in pairs down huge corridors. She gripped the strap of her backpack, her palms sweating. 
Suddenly, a man stepped up to the desk beside her, reaching over to grab a clipboard and a pen. He was wearing a white shirt with a stethoscope around his neck. Y/N’s eyes narrowed on his badge, seeing the word ‘Doctor’ written in bold. 
"Can I help you?" he asked in a detached tone, his attention elsewhere.
Y/N hesitated, noticing his lack of focus. "Um, no, I'm just waiting," she stammered.
He scoffed dismissively. "Typical," he muttered, setting the clipboard back down and finally turning to face her.
Y/N was taken aback by his striking appearance. Her breath caught as she met his gaze, momentarily forgetting her surroundings. His features were chiselled, framed by dark hair that fell effortlessly across his forehead. But it was his piercing eyes that held her captive, a mesmerising shade of green that reminded her of the leaves off the mango trees that grew in her hometown. 
His gaze found hers, and she noticed the subtle parting of his lips as his eyes settled on her. There was a softness in his gaze, a gentle relaxation evident in the way his shoulders eased down. Maybe it was from how frightened she looked as her gaze landed on everything around her but his voice was softer now, a hint of concern evident beneath the initial hardness, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she regained her composure. "Uh, no, I'm fine, thank you," she managed to reply, feeling a flutter in her chest at the unexpected kindness in his tone.
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “Well alright then. I know how hard first days can be so if I see you around, don’t worry about asking me for help.”
“Oh uh, thank you…Doctor,” Y/N replied, taken aback by his kindness. 
“Y’ can call me Harry,” She noticed a dimple appear when he smiled. His eyes were fixed on her for a beat before he pointed to his name badge and continued, “S my name y’ see.”
Y/N couldn’t help but smile and a little giggle escaped her, “It’s a nice name.”
“What’s your name?” Harry asked but was interrupted by the receptionist returning.
“Good morning Doctor Styles,” She greeted as she sat back at the desk.
“Good morning Hannah,” Harry replied, his eyes darting from Y/N to Hannah.
The woman slid the badge over to Y/N. It was a printed-out copy of the badge she was supposed to have gotten, laminated and whole-punched to a lanyard. Y/N took it between her fingers and read her name on it, her eyebrows furrowing. “Um, I think my last name is spelt wrong,” Y/N said, it would be fine if it was a small spelling mistake but it may as well be a completely different name with the way it had been spelt. 
“Sorry?” Hannah’s smile faltered. 
"U-um, my last name is spelled wrong. I-I'm sorry, I don't want to be such a pain," Y/N stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she handed the lanyard back to the receptionist.
The receptionist glanced at the name badge, and then back at Y/N. "Oh, it must be because it's such a complicated name. I must have spelt it wrong on the computer. Are you sure you can't just use it? Only until your ID comes in?"
Y/N felt a sinking feeling in her chest. She hated confrontation or being an inconvenience, but she had already given up so much for a better life here. She couldn't give up her name too. "But it's my name," she insisted softly, her voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and determination.
Just as the receptionist's mouth opened to respond, the Doctor, who had been silently observing, cleared his throat. "Hannah, I think it would be better if we give Y/N the correct name on her own ID badge, don't you think?" He interjected gently, coming to Y/N's aid without hesitation. “The whole point of it is to let people know who we are, we wouldn’t want people getting Y/N’s name wrong on her first day would we?”
Hannah frowned and Y/N could tell she wasn’t happy, “Right, I’ll be right back.” 
Y/N released a sigh, putting a hand to her forehead, “Thank you, Doctor Styles.” She said even though she was extremely embarrassed. 
“Hey it’s Harry,” He smiled, “And you were right to argue with her, ‘s your name which is beautiful by the way.”  Y/N's cheeks flushed even deeper at his compliment, but she managed a shy smile in return, feeling a sense of gratitude for Harry's kindness and support. “Don’t let these people push you around. You have just of a right to be here as everyone else.”
Y/N’s lips parted as he spoke the words she had been repeating to herself since she woke up. Y/N watched him go, her heart still racing at the unexpected encounter, a newfound warmth spreading through her as she resumed her wait in the bustling hospital corridor. 
Hannah soon returned with an annoyed look on her face as she handed Y/N her temporary badge with her name written correctly. She thanked her and walked away already having gained a possible enemy but maybe a possible friend too. 
 . . .
“I don’t want her as my nurse,” An elderly patient said midway through the day as they were serving lunch. 
Y/N had been in her scrubs for five hours, with another seven to go. Her feet ached from standing all day, attending to the patients that had been assigned to her at the start of the day. While some of the other healthcare workers had been welcoming, she couldn't ignore the clear divide between them. They tended to gather in separate groups and have their own cliques going on amongst them, but Y/N appreciated their support as she adjusted to her new role, minding her own business as she did. 
“Margot,” Layla, another healthcare assistant, spoke to the eighty-year-old woman who was laying in bed waiting for her lunch to be fed to her, “Y/N’s a new healthcare assistant, she’s just going to be feeding you lunch.”
“I don’t want her,” Margot protested, “I want someone else.”
Y/N's gaze dropped, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. She had been expecting this to happen at some point but she didn’t think it would happen so soon. "It's alright, Layla. I'll take over your tasks," Y/N offered quietly, not wanting to make a scene.
Layla's eyes softened with sympathy. "She's not usually like this," she whispered.
Y/N nodded, her resolve firm as she gathered her belongings to assist elsewhere. "No problem," she replied with a shrug, masking her hurt.
"C'mon, Margot," Layla urged gently, collecting the tray of hot lunch.
"I don't want a foreigner feeding me," Margot muttered sharply, her words stinging the air.
Y/N’s eyes stung as she left the room. She thought she had been lucky with her patient’s today and the majority of them had been rather lovely. They’d been interested in Y/N’s life, noticing her olive-toned complexion and black hair and asking her where she came from. The question allowed her to reminisce on her time back home and describe the foods and the environment she grew up with but it was only so long before she came across someone who didn’t care - seeing her as nothing more than a stranger in a foreign land that never quite felt like home.
Y/N took three deep breaths before stepping into the wing to cover Layla's shift for an hour. She knew she needed to shake off the hurt from the recent encounter, hoping that immersing herself in work would help ease the discomfort. 
Three other women were working on the ward when Y/N entered the room. They were sitting in the corner on plastic chairs, sharing a phone screen as some show played. One of them turned when they noticed Y/N was in the room which caused the other two to follow. 
“Hello,” Y/N spoke, timidly, “I’m here to help out Layla for a little while.” 
The women exchanged knowing glances, their expressions morphing into smirks. One of them, the apparent leader of the group, sneered as she replied, "Oh, great. About time someone else did some work around here. Layla's been slacking off all morning." 
“Really?” Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, Layla had been very kind to her just moments ago. 
“Yeah,” The leader replied, her lips smacking together as she chewed on a piece of gum, “You can start by feeding those three their lunches.” She pointed her finger towards three patients lying in their beds. 
“All three?” There were only six beds in the room. 
“Is there a problem?” The woman folded her arms, the other two trying not to laugh behind her. 
“No,” Y/N shook her head, “No there is not.”
Y/N rolled up her sleeves and got to work, trying to spoon-feed all three patients as the other girls sat in the corner continuing to watch their show. Despite the mocking gaze of her co-workers, Y/N was fully determined to prove to herself that she could get through this. She needed to just put her head down and remind herself that this was for the better - the money would be worth it at the end of the month and she’d have enough to send to her family back home too. 
As Y/N sat with the last patient, one of the ladies stood up to go and tended to another one. “Janice,” She cooed, walking over to the side of the bed where an elderly woman lay asleep, “Janice wake up love,” She squeezed her hand, “Janice?”
Y/N’s head shot in their direction, her eyes falling on Janice who wouldn’t wake up. She dropped the bowl of food on the side table and rushed over, “Hello Janice? Can you hear me?” The lady asked as Y/N put her ear to her mouth to see if she was breathing. 
“She’s unconscious,” Y/N stated, “Her throat is blocked, did you feed her?”
The woman’s eyes were wide, “I-I-”
“Call the doctor,” Y/N instructed one of the other girls who immediately pressed the red button to alert the emergency services. 
“We don’t have enough time,” Y/N muttered, “Get me a tracheostomy tube.”
“We don’t have authorisation to-”
“I can do it, I’ve done it before, please.” Y/N’s adrenaline was running high but she remained calm on the surface, it was what she had been trained to do. 
The woman hurried over with a tube, and Y/N wasted no time. With steady hands, she performed a tracheostomy to create an emergency airway for Janice. Time seemed to blur as Y/N worked quickly and efficiently.
Minutes later, as Y/N finished, the doctor entered the room, taking in the scene with great concern and alertness on his face. “Where’s the emergency?” It was Doctor Styles, Y/N recognised him by his voice. 
She squeezed her eyes shut, even though the patient had been saved and was able to breathe better, it wasn’t protocol to allow Healthcare assistants to perform such an intricate procedure that could so easily go wrong. She could be in big trouble for this and it was only her first day. 
“Janice was unconscious, she was barely breathing,” One of Y/N’s co-workers explained.
Harry approached the patient, his eyes widening in disbelief as he realised what Y/N had done. "You did this?" he asked his tone a mix of astonishment and concern.
Y/N looked up, her stomach churning with dread. She could already picture the disappointment on her mother's face for potentially jeopardising her job on the first day. "I was trying to-"
"Do you realise how dangerous this procedure is?" Harry's voice cut through her explanation.
Y/N's gaze fell to the ground, her throat tightening with guilt. "Yes, I do."
"She could have died," Harry stated, his tone grave.
"I know, but I-" Y/N began, her words faltering.
"You saved her life," Harry's interruption caught Y/N off guard, her head shooting up to meet his gaze. For the first time, she saw the awe and shock reflected in his eyes.
“How did you know how to do it?” Harry asked, genuine curiosity evident in his tone.
“I learnt it during my training,” Y/N explained, her nerves still on edge.
“You just learnt it?” Harry chuckled softly, his gaze drifting to the other women in the room. "And what were you three doing when this happened?"
“W-well, we've yet to learn that procedure, Doctor Styles,” one of them spoke up, the rest nodding along in agreement.
Harry rolled his eyes, his attention returning to Y/N. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Truly remarkable,” he said, his gaze fixed on her. 
. . .
Y/N was exhausted at the end of her shift. Her bag was still packed, her lunch and snacks untouched, because she had been on her feet all day. Her skin felt sticky underneath her sweatshirt, she couldn’t wait to shower once she got back to the house. 
As she left the hospital, she inhaled the fresh air and felt the cool breeze against her flushed face.  She needed to get the tube station back to her boarding house but she was grateful to finally have a few hours away from the scent of disinfectant and rude co-workers. 
“Y/N!” Y/N spun on her heel as she heard the call of her name, turning to see Doctor Styles pacing towards her. It was the first time today she had seen him wearing glasses. 
“Doctor Styles, I thought you would be at home already,” She smiled as best as she could despite feeling much too tired to do so. 
“No, I still have a few hours to go.” He replied, that dimple and sparkle in his eye returning to his equally tired face. “I caught you walking out and left my office to come speak to you. I was really impressed by what you did today. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen a healthcare assistant do that under such pressure.”
“Oh, it was nothing,” Y/N was terrible at taking compliments, even more so when she was tired.
“It was everything. You saved a woman’s life.” Harry stated. 
"Right," Y/N murmured, her mind still reeling from the events of the day and Harry's constant acknowledgement.
A brief moment of silence fell between them as Harry looked as though he was trying to speak but didn’t know how to word it properly, “Listen I…forgive me if I’m being too forward but would you maybe want to grab something to eat with me one night, maybe, I don’t know. If you want to of course, no pressure, and if you have a boyfriend that’s okay too but is it okay if you don’t tell me because that would be incredibly kind towards my pride.”
For the first time today, Y/N released a genuine laugh as he finished his rambling. “You’re not like the boys back home.” She said after she had composed herself. 
Harry frowned, “Is that a good thing?”
“It’s refreshing,” She told him, it was nice to experience something new and it be a good thing for once. “I will go out with you Harry.” 
A smile tugged at the corner of Harry’s lips, despite his attempt to suppress it by biting his bottom lip. He rubbed his hand over his mouth in a futile effort to conceal his grin, but the crinkles around his eyes and the dimples on his cheeks betrayed his amusement. "Okay," he chuckled softly, unable to contain his delight. "That’s good."
“I have an afternoon off in three days time, is that okay?” He asked eagerly, wanting to see her as soon as possible.
“I would like that,” she says, her voice filled with anticipation. “A lot actually.”
Their gazes locked for a brief moment. “Well, I should probably get going,” Y/N said, breaking the silence.
“Yes, of course. Can I give you my number first? I can text you the details later if that’s okay,” Harry asked, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.
“Oh, sure,” Y/N replied, taking out her phone, which only had her family’s numbers saved in it.
Harry quickly typed his number into Y/N's phone before handing it back to her with a warm smile. “I’ll hopefully see you tomorrow?” Harry asked.
“Yes, I’m here tomorrow.” Harry walked backwards towards the hospital entrance, smiling and shaking his head before turning his back to her.
Y/N was in disbelief as she began her journey home. She couldn't shake the feeling of surprise that someone like Harry would want to go on a date with her. Dating wasn't even on her radar when she arrived; she had suspected that no man would find her attractive because of how she looked - she wasn’t really deemed the stereotypical female in Western society. But Harry's genuine interest had shattered those doubts. As she navigated through the bustling streets, a newfound sense of confidence began to bloom within her. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something wonderful and a new distraction from her overwhelming life. 
. . .
Harry had been eyeing the clock all morning. 
“Have somewhere to be?” Niall, his co-worker, asked, having seen him glued to the clock. 
“Something like that,” Harry mumbled. 
With just an hour left of his shift, Harry couldn't shake the anticipation of taking Y/N out for dinner tonight. She had been occupying his thoughts incessantly for the past three days. The golden hue of her skin and the soft, round features of her face had etched themselves into his mind. He found himself mesmerised by the almond shape of her eyes, their deep brown colour reminiscent of a shot of espresso in the morning. 
He loved the melodic, soft tones of her voice and the way she spoke with an accent that brought life into the usual boring words people spoke to him every day. He thought about how her cheeks would tinge pink whenever she’d start speaking, how shy she was whenever he’d praise her or how expressive her eyes were whenever she wasn’t talking. 
He was a Doctor and knew all the ways in which the mind and body worked but he was beginning to question his beliefs since he had met Y/N because he was pretty sure he had fallen in love at first sight. 
Everything about her had been on his mind and he was desperate to find out all that he possibly could about the quiet, shy healthcare assistant who saved the life of a woman on her first day. 
Interrupting the images of Y/N that had been playing in his mind, was the sound of the buzzer to the emergency department. Harry sat up at the same time as Niall who was already standing to his feet to go and see what the problem was. He sighed, hoping for time to hurry up so the evening would arrive much sooner. 
“Hey it’s me,” Harry sighed a heavy sigh into the phone as he held it against his ear, sitting in his car in the staff parking area of the hospital many hours later. His forehead was pressed against the steering wheel as tiredness and guilt laced within him.
“Hello Harry,” Y/N’s soft voice rang through the speaker, soothing a piece of him that was just so tired, “Is everything okay?”
Harry’s eyes squeezed shut, “You’re probably going to hate me for this but is there any chance we can reschedule? Something came up at work and I’ve only just come out.” He was five hours overtime after a family had been rushed into the emergency room after an accident. 
He swallowed as he waited for her to reply, “Oh,” She said and the small remark made him feel even more guilty than he already felt. 
“I’m sorry,” He hated himself because it was all he had been looking forward to.
“Harry,” Y/N said his name, “It’s okay. I’ve worked in enough hospitals to know these things happen. Of course, we can go at another time but are you okay?”
He released a long breath at the question, “No not really,” it was the truth and another reason why he needed to reschedule the date. He had seen some pretty tough things today and it weighed heavily on his mind. 
“Have you eaten?” Y/N asked, concern in her voice. 
His eyes stung, his head falling back against the headrest, “No I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” 
Y/N sighed over the phone, “Do you live close by?”
“I live about ten minutes from the hospital,” He told her, wondering why she would ask. 
“Is it okay if I come by?” She asks, “I mean it’s okay if not.”
Harry’s shoulders dropped, “That actually sounds really nice.”
The fact that Y/N would be visiting him at his home seemed to ease the weight of the long day from Harry's shoulders. With a faint smile playing on his lips, he leaned back in his seat, feeling a hint of anticipation at the thought of her company.
When Harry got home, he saw how messy his apartment was. Feeling a sudden jolt of energy, he quickly picked up his laundry off of the floor and threw dirty dishes into the dishwasher. He took a moment to straighten up the living room and fluff the cushions on the couch. Trying to make everything look cleaner than it actually was in order to impress her. 
His buzzer rang and he quickly went to answer it, allowing her to come up as his heart raced in his chest. With one last glance around the room, he swiftly nudged something under the coffee table before reaching the door just as she knocked.
Harry felt all the tiredness from his body lift when he opened the door and found her standing there with a plastic carrier bag in her hands. She was wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, her hair tied up in a ponytail and her face make-up free. 
“Hey,” He breathed, a piece of him settling when he laid eyes on her, “Thank you for coming here.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” She smiled and walked past him after he moved to the side to let her in. 
Her eyes were wide as she took in his apartment, “This is a lot better than the boarding house.”
His eyebrows furrowed, “You’re living in a boarding house?”
She nodded, “Only until I can find my own place to live. It was what the company who transferred me here offered when I applied.” 
“I see,” Harry realised he was still in his uniform except his shirt was untucked and his tie was loose around his neck. 
Y/N placed the plastic bag on the kitchen counter, “I bought some things to make you since you didn’t eat. How about I start cooking and you can get changed?” 
Harry scratched the back of his neck, “I-I hope you don’t think I invited you over to cook for me Y/N. I actually really just wanted to see you.”
Y/N’s cheeks flushed, “It’s okay, I enjoy cooking and maybe it’s my excuse to see you too.”
He took a step forward, “If I had known you had been waiting to find an excuse I would have invited you over much sooner.” 
She shifted under his gaze, biting her lip to stop her smile, “Go get dressed,” She ordered and Harry grinned, it was the first time he had seen her act so assertively. 
He took a thirty-minute long shower, scrubbing off the remains of the day from his skin. He wore a grey sweatshirt and sweatpants, drying his hair with a towel as he re-entered the kitchen to find Y/N already plating up the food she had made. 
The kitchen was an aroma of fragrances Harry had never smelt before. His mouth watered as Y/N spooned rice onto plates and picked up the saucepan to bring to the kitchen island. “This smells amazing,” Harry sat on one of the stools, picking up a knife and fork. 
“It’s called chicken adobo,” Y/N informs him, “It’s a traditional dish of the Philippines, my mama used to make it for me and my sister when we’d come in from school.” 
Harry listened intently, “That’s where you’re from?” 
Y/N smiled, “It’s my home.” She took Harry’s plate and spooned some of the chicken on top of the rice before doing the same for herself, “I hope you don’t mind but I use my hands to eat,” 
Harry lowered his knife and fork, “Really?”
“Mhm,” Y/N picked up some of the rice and chicken with her fingers,  “It’s called Kamayan. It’s meant to help appreciate the flavours and textures of the food we make or are served.”
Harry looked genuinely interested as Y/N ate the food pressed into her hand, “Can I try?”
Y/N paused chewing on her food, not expecting him to want to try something that in many Western cultures might be considered bad manners. She quickly swallowed it down and nodded, “Of course.” 
Harry pursed his lips as he concentrated on gathering the rice and chicken into his hands. He felt the stickiness of the rice as he pressed it with his fingers. It wasn’t as graceful as Y/N had done as he attempted to put it all into his mouth. He chewed on the chicken, his taste buds tingling at the new flavour. 
Swallowing it down his eyes brightened, “It’s delicious!”
Y/N’s eyes crinkled, “Yeah? You think so?”
“I’ve never eaten with my hands before but it feels quite liberating.” He chuckles.
Y/N laughs, “My mama always told us to eat with our hands.” 
Harry repeated the action, scooping the perfect serving into his hand and eating it, “Where did you live when you lived in the Philippines?”
“I grew up in Roxas City- it’s on one of the many islands and it’s beautiful. The beaches stretch for miles and the water is so blue and clear you can see your feet walking along the bottom.” Harry watched as Y/N explained animatedly what her home country was like. Her words brought the images to life in his mind as he pictured her walking along the beaches. 
He was happy to see her relax into conversation the more questions he asked about her home, “What made you want to come here to work?”
Y/N’s smile faltered and Harry wished he could take back the question but she answered, “My family aren’t wealthy and I always knew I would have to leave at some point to go out and make enough money to bring back for them so we could have a better life. I trained in healthcare so I could come here and work.” 
Harry's expression softened, concern evident in his eyes. "Has it been difficult?" he asked gently. He knew it might sound like a cliché question, but he genuinely wanted to make sure she was coping okay. It must be incredibly difficult having to leave everything you know for something completely different. 
“I’m so homesick,” Y/N’s eyes watered, “Every day I go back to that boarding house and count down the days until I can go home again. I-I thought I knew English before coming here but it’s so difficult to understand when people are talking so fast and expecting you to know what they’re saying.” Harry grabbed a tissue and passed it to her. She took it in her hands and gave him a watery smile, “I miss my mama and my sister and the sun. London is so grey.” 
Harry reached out a hand and gripped her fingers, squeezing them gently, “Hey, you’re doing so good Y/N.” He started, “You’re so unbelievably brave for coming here and starting this new life. I mean I couldn’t do what you’re doing - I get homesick even when my mum lives ten minutes away,” Y/N laughs and the sound sparks something inside of him, even when she was crying she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his life, “You should be so proud of yourself and I know your family is proud of you too.”
Y/N’s watery eyes looked into his, “Thank you,” She whispered, “This is the first time I’ve stepped outside my house other than to get that stupid train to work.” 
“Seriously?” Harry was shocked, no wonder she was feeling so trapped and cooped up. 
Harry glanced at their two empty plates before giving her hand a tight squeeze, “C’mon,”
“What-” Y/N watched as he grabbed his jacket and car keys.
“Let me take you somewhere,” He insisted, his voice warm and inviting. 
“But it’s dark outside?” Y/N slid off her stool and followed him to the front door. 
“That’s the best time of day,” He smirked and whisked her away to his car where he drove her through the streets of London, illuminated by the lights that lit up the streets. 
He parked on the side of the road somewhere and they walked for fifteen minutes until they reached a busier area of the city where people were still out with friends, “Hopefully it’s still there,” He mumbled. 
“What are you talking about?” Y/N frowned and her head lifted to see the bright lights from billboards that surrounded the square. Perfume adverts and models appeared on the big screens as tourists posed for pictures in front of them. 
“This is Piccadilly Circus,” Harry motioned to the place they were standing in. He intertwined their fingers and led her over to stand her in front of the biggest billboard of them all, “And that is your home.” He pointed to it and the billboard switched to a picture of a beach that looked almost exactly the same as the one she had grown up near. Big, bold letters with the words ‘Visit the Philippines’ were at the bottom but Y/N couldn’t seem to stop staring at the sea that illuminated the square, casting it in blue light. 
Her eyes glistened with tears, “I know it’s not the same,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck, “But-”
“It’s my home,” Y/N gasped, a grin taking over her entire face, “That’s where I’m from Harry!” 
Harry’s grin mirrored hers, “It is!” He replies with equal enthusiasm. 
“Can you take a picture of me?” She reached for her phone and passed it to him. Y/N smiled like a kid at Christmas in front of the billboard and Harry quickly snapped a picture before it switched to a different advert. 
He handed the phone back to her and she looked down unable to keep her eyes off of that blue sea she had been missing. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” She murmured and looked up to see him already gazing at her, “Thank you.”
Harry smiled bashfully, shaking his head, “I know you don’t believe it yet but I think you were meant to be here at this moment in life and I think maybe I was meant to be here too.” He admitted. 
“You really think that?” She asked.
“I believe it wholeheartedly,” He stated. 
When the billboard returned to the picture of the sea, Y/N insisted Harry stand to get a picture in front of it. He pulled a face, pointing at the billboard and the picture came out all blurry because Y/N had been laughing too much. 
Late into the night, they stayed in Piccadilly Circus taking pictures of each other and with each other as the beach appeared on the screen. Harry swore his camera roll was now just pictures of Y/N squealing with excitement whenever the image of the beach appeared. 
In the moments in between, they sat and spoke. Comparing cultures and learning more about one another. Whilst Y/N had learnt about Harry’s family and living in the English countryside as a child, Harry had learnt all about Y/N’s time in the sun and how much she adored fishing in the spring and picking mangoes off her grandpa’s mango trees. 
It wasn’t a date, it was more than that. 
It was the converging of two paths in life that had now become one. 
. . .
Mahal na mama, Dear mama. 
I got my first paycheck today and I have sent you as much as I can. I hope it’s enough to buy you some new shoes because I know you are getting tired of your old ones. 
I have been working hard and I’m slowly growing used to the way things work here. I’d be lying if I told you it was easy, it’s been so incredibly hard. So many times I have been desperate to come home, wondering whether this was where I belonged or if it just wasn’t meant to be. 
But Mama, I’ve met someone. 
Don’t be upset. I know you always told me and sissy it should always be careers before boys but he has become my home away from home mama. 
He’s a doctor at the hospital and his name is Harry.
Every day he picks me up from work even though his apartment is right by the hospital and we walk into work together. He’s not embarrassed to hold my hand or kiss me goodbye either. 
I spend a lot of days at his home because it’s a lot nicer than my boarding house. He asks me to cook him some of your recipes and he tells me to tell you that they are delicious and he hopes one day that you can cook them for him. 
He loves to listen to me speak about home and I love to hear him speak about his. 
He’s introduced me to this whole other world of culture mama and it is so beautiful. 
I love you and I miss you but I am safe and happy and I am doing well.
I am still counting down the days until I can come home and visit you but just know I am no longer homesick because of him. 
Mahal kita Mama. 
. . .
“Ang pangalan ko ay Harry,”
“Ang… Pan-gaaa-”
“Pangalan,” Y/N tried not to laugh at the concentrated look on his face. 
“Pangalan,” She nods.
“Ang pangalan ko ay Harry,” Harry looks at her for confirmation and she nods, leaning forward to kiss him. 
“It’s nice to meet you, Harry, my name is Y/N.” She murmurs against his lips. 
She feels his lips curve against hers before he puckers them and presses kisses all over her face. She tries to pull him away but he keeps her in his grip until they collapse onto the bed. “Harryyyy,” She giggles as he presses kisses along her exposed collarbones. 
“What’s the word for kisses again?” He murmurs against her neck. 
Y/N’s hands run through his curls, pushing them back from his face. Her lips ghost against his as she murmurs, “Mga halik,” 
“Mga halik,” He repeats, his pronunciation improving. 
“Mhm,” She puckers her lips to kiss him to which he happily hums and returns her kiss. “I need to start dinner,”
“No,” He whines, holding onto her, “Stay.”
“But I’m so hungry and you need to help me with the lumpia.” She says referring to the spring roles she had taught him to make. 
“We can’t order a pizza?” He pouts, “I just want to hold you.” 
Y/N sighed but was unable to prevent herself from falling for the pouty look on his face, “Fine, we’ll get a pizza but only if we can get it with pineapple.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed, “Criminal,” 
“But you love me?” She grins, cheekily. 
“I do,” He kisses her before grabbing his phone, “I truly do.”
Since moving to a new country and meeting Harry, Y/N's life had transformed. He had brought back the sense of familiarity she had lost when she moved across the world. In him, she found not just love, but a true home—a place where she belonged and was cherished in return.
Her work and life in general had become easier because she no longer felt so alone. Every day they’d sit together during their lunch breaks at work and go back to Harry’s apartment at the end of their shifts. 
“Hi baby,” Harry greeted her whenever she’d get into the car with him. He’d lean over the console and kiss her. 
“Hi syota,” Sweetheart. She’d say in return and despite how tired he felt, he always managed to smile at the term of endearment she’d picked for him. 
Further into their dating, Harry had been desperate to learn her language. Even though Y/N told him it didn’t matter to her - they had their own ways of communicating that only they understood, bridging the gap between words that got lost in translation - he was instant on it. 
“But when our kids learn, I’ll be left out.” It was the first time he said I love you without even saying the three words. 
As they sat in his living room, which was slowly becoming hers too, eating pizza and watching Lord of the Rings, because Harry was insistent on making Y/N watch the whole series if she wanted to truly see the beauty of Western culture, Y/N realised that maybe Harry was right and this was where she was meant to be all along. 
“I love you,” Harry murmured as he held her in his arms on the couch. 
“Mahal kita.” I love you. She replied, feeling more at home in his arms than she did anywhere else in the world. 
3 years later… 
“Are you nervous baby?” Harry whispered in her ear as they sat side by side on the plane, their fingers intertwined. She was wearing his sweater and he had one of her rings on a chain around his neck, it was the physical representation of how they had interwoven their lives had become. 
“A little,” Y/N confessed, glancing out the window to see they were nearing the island she had left three years ago. “I’m worried they won’t like this version of me.”
“Hey,” Harry cupped her cheek in his hand, “They’re your family, they’ll love every version of you the same way I do.” 
Y/N’s lips turned upwards, “You promise?” 
“I’d never lie to you my love,” He kissed the bridge of her nose. 
The plane shook as it landed on the ground. Y/N could already feel the heat of the sun before she’d even stepped off the plane, just from looking out the window. Harry grabbed her duffle bag from the overhead compartment and took his own travel case as well. 
He was wearing a shirt that said ‘But Daddy I love him’ and white shorts with sunglasses buried in his dishevelled curls. They had been flying for hours, the both of them exhausted, but Y/N couldn’t seem to calm the jitters of seeing her home again. 
Harry pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, “Calm down, puso ko.” my heart. 
“Do you think she’ll be here?” Y/N was already craning her neck as they got to passport control even though it was impossible to see past the arrival gates from where they stood. 
She remembered what her mother had told her when she dropped her off to start her new life in England. 
“Mananatili pa rin ako dito sa loob ng tatlong taon at magiging mas mahusay ka.” I will still be here in three years and you will be someone better. 
She hoped she had done just as her mother said and she would be returning to her as someone better than the person she used to be. 
Once they got through the gate, Y/N stood on her toes and tried to spot her mother in the crowds. She didn’t expect to see her right away as her mother was rather short but she hoped she’d sense her presence somewhere in the room. 
“Do you see her?” Y/N asked, Harry was also looking around to see if she was somewhere. 
“Y/N!” A warm, comforting voice that echoed in the depths of her childhood and rang through her to this day, called for her amongst the bustle of people. 
Y/N’s eyes watered, “Mama!” She called, spinning around to find her. 
“Hey look baby,” Harry pointed and that’s when Y/N saw her. Her arms open, standing in the place she promised she would be three years later. 
“Mama!” Y/N dropped Harry’s hand and ran towards her mother, enveloping herself in her arms and feeling her soft skin against her own. She felt the hands that had held her as a child, cling to the back of her shirt. 
“Ang anak ko,” My child. Her mother held her. 
“I’ve missed you so much,” Y/N whispered, her eyes flooding with tears. 
Y/N pulled away, looking down at her mother and feeling a fresh flood of tears fill her eyes. A presence came up behind her, a hand on her shoulder. She put her hand on top of his and watched as her mother’s eyes widened in surprise, “Mama, this is my boyfriend, Harry.”
Harry cleared his throat, placing their bags on the floor, “Hello ang pangalan ko ay Harry. Ikinagagalak kitang makilala.” Hello, my name is Harry. Nice to meet you. His tone was slightly unsure as he spoke but Y/N beamed as he spoke the words to his mother, having spent the last few years teaching him. 
Her mother smiled, a tear falling from her eye. Y/N’s lips parted, having never seen her mother cry before. She took a step forward and then wrapped her arms around Harry, “Salamat sa pag-aalaga sa anak ko.” thank you for taking care of my daughter. 
Y/N covered her mouth to stop herself from sobbing in the middle of the airport. She wanted to take this moment and bottle it up as she watched her two favourite people in the entire world embrace each other. 
If there was one thing Y/N had learnt from her time away it was that home wasn’t so much of a place anymore but the people instead.
These were her people.
They were her home. 
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hearts4chriss · 2 months
Text
Under the table.
𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒.
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Bad boy!Chris + good girl!Black fem shy nerd
Prompt: midway through ur English lecture Chris goes under ur desk while the teacher or nobody can see
Part 02
A/n- VERY REQUESTED!! Pt 3 is also done !! And not proof read
Contains: dirty talking, use of pet names, public sex, chris is munchin, creampie, suggestive touching, embarassed!reader.
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ever since Chris and I had sex, things were, well obviously different.
It felt kinda nice having a guy as good looking as him giving me attention despite how wrong it was.
For some reason I felt safe with him, like he wouldn’t let anyone bully me or make fun of me anymore, it was kinda comforting.
Chris pov
Since we had sex, I felt so attached to her like a fucking idiot.
I don’t regret not one bit of it, but something inside me was- I couldn’t get enough of her.
I wanted to taste her, feel her. The way she looked up at me with those big eyes and swollen plump lips after I had ruined her made me yearn for more of her.
The way she felt around me, the way she moaned my name and how she screamed it when she would cum.
it wasn’t just that, she’s beautiful.
her cute little glasses that sit on her nose, her glossy lips and that sweet smile she always give me as she does now while I’m walking with her too our class
I kept her close to me, I wanted to keep her safe from all those things that could hurt her. She was precious I couldn’t bare the thought if someone tried to hurt her. I had to protect her.
we got top class and I held the door for her and gave her a small wink making her smile a bit letting her dimples peek through before my eyes wandered too her skirt.
she had on pink panties this time and I couldn’t resist myself. The way they were peeking through the bottom of her skirt made my dick pressing against my pants.
the way she sat down on the desk and i immediately followed quickly sitting next to her in the back so I could tease her some more.
soon enough class got started and I watched her pull out her pink notebook that said “𝐻𝒪𝒩𝒪𝒰𝑅𝒮 𝐸𝒩𝒢𝐿𝐼𝒮𝐻 ” in a darker pink and she opened it flipping through to find a clean page.
She saw me looking at her noticing I didn’t have a pencil or paper.
Do you need anything? I-I have extra..she said softly nearly making me melt but I tried to keep my composure from wanting to bury my head in between her thighs.
are you stuttering princess, I’m not THAT am I? I let out a small laugh rubbing my hand over her leg and her eyes widen.
No just- ugh here! She whines slightly embarrassed from my little pet name I’ve given her but I thought it was cute so she wasn’t gonna stop me, especially if I got reactions like this.
mhmm nice try tho. I kiss her cheek allowing a smile to curve on her lips.
then the lesson started and she began to take notes and I couldn’t take my eyes off her and how focused she was.
she would poke her tongue out, kinda how I would while she was concentrating, the way she’d push her glasses up occasionally just took me back to the night I fucked her so hard they came off her pretty face.
And her intelligence, the way she answered every question with such ease, then whenever I’d get called on she’d slide me a note with her tiny handwriting with the answer giving me a small smile squeezing my hand slightly.
she was so damn innocent but that only made me want her more.
I was snapped out my fantasies when she asked
May I use the bathroom! She raised her hand our teacher nodded and she got up and walked out the classroom and I was mesmerized by her thighs- fuck the way they look when she walks-
I sighed and peer at her seat next to me and realize, there’s a small wet spot and I smirked too myself.
I made her wet
the thought of that alone could make me cum, knowing I made this nerdy girl wet from only a few words and she tried too hide it was so adorable- never in life would I picture myself liking a girl like her but-
She came back 4 minutes later and sits down fixing her skirt.
you okay princess? I whisper against her neck and I watch her breath hitch.
What’s wrong? I say softly pretending to relax her nerves and dirty thoughts I knew she was having of me and I chuckled.
I slid one of my hands up her thigh resting it at the tip of where her skirt began.
Chris- w-were in class…she shudders shyly at my touch, as if she was begging me too touch her knowing how wrong it was and how fearful she was if she got caught.
and? why would that stop me from eating that pretty pussy of yours?
I Watch her squeeze her thighs together and adjust her glasses and I smirked knowing exactly what her little mind was thinking, though she’d never admit it
gonna be quiet for me? Let me eat you out in class? Make you cum all over my face baby hm? I whisper low enough because nobody was really paying attention too the teacher or us.
yes m’i’ll be quiet I promise- she whispers shaking her head.
Lower ur seat for me. I whisper crouching down under the desks enclosed by a small wall for backpack storage.
Her fingers attached too the lever and she does so moving towards the front of her chair giving me a perfect view of her panties.
I wasted no time knowing this already made her nervous enough, I thought it was cute how embarrassed she was. But she was needy. And I wasn’t gonna make her wait any longer.
I slid the panties down putting them into my pocket.
Her pussy was so fucking wet and it was all for me, I couldn’t wait to taste her.
It was right in front of me as she had positioned herself in the perfect angle, I left kisses on her thighs as a reminder she was my girl and nobody else was aloud to do this.
But her warmth was calling me, the same one I was just inside of only days ago.
I press my tongue to her wetness and she shrieks placing her hand over her mouth beginning to write with shaky hands
fuck- she tastes so good, that aroma id been craving was finally failing into my mouth, I slurped and sucked damn near the life out of this girl as she threw her legs around my head trying to maintain her volume.
her hand grasps my brunette hair slightly tugging on it and I look up seeing how she had one hand over he mouth whilst the other pulls my hair, knowing how flustered all of this made her I opt for sending her a wink before lapping up her wetness again.
I couldn’t get enough of it, she felt so good on my lips, it was so fucking perfect on my mouth, i couldn’t help myself from shaking my head in her pussy sticking my tongue out as her legs shook each time from overwhelming pleasure.
I spread her legs further apart making her groan but she quickly turned into a cough making me damn near burst out laughing.
I knew she was probably freaking out from this, and that made feel somewhat guilty but she was so hard to resist the way she sat in that chair her ass poking out a bit which I really fucking hated because I knew she did as well, but fuck it made me hard especially knowing it was only me who could make her feel so good.
It didn’t take long for her to release her warm cum all over my face, since this was the first she’d experienced this.
Fuck- I whisper to myself watch her juices drip onto the chair. I quickly stood up walking too a side table by the class door.
What’s on ur face Christopher? Look a little mess…the teacher questions and I chuckle and make up a lie quickly
Just ate something really good, and sweet and it had some cream inside so I got a little messy I apologize. I give the teacher a sly smile and she rolls her eyes at me and I wipe my face off and grab some extras for her.
I cleaned her up and saw how her legs shook a bit and how out of breath she was from this.
Her face looked a little embarrassed from my comment earlier but she had a small grin on her face one of enjoyment.
Are you okay princess? I wasn’t too much was I? I say slipping her panties back and she slowly slides them on as my hand rests on her back.
I’m- okay that was-wow-I don’t know I-i liked it a lot. She says shyly, lots of breath in between each word as she placed her head on the desk looking up at me with those big gorgeous eyes through her glasses and that’s when I realize something inside of me.
I couldn’t just have her for sex, or my own pleasure.
I wanted her to be my girl
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scarletevening · 10 months
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innocuous [ könig ]
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saying im obsessed with this man is an undersatement.
cw: suggestive [ some are a little up front... ], foul language, age difference? [ i mean he is a colonel... ], might be toxic [ idk tho too many hearts in my eyes ], also kinda fem! reader but can be read as gn! reader
Older bf! König, whos not a man you can read, far too experienced with life to let you get in his thoughts, but that doesn’t mean that he could keep himself out of yours. 
OlderBf! König, who basically entranced you with his intelligence, guiding you like a gentle wing, keeping you close and safe from unfamiliarity, because he was familiar with all of it.
OlderBf! König, would let you make mistakes so he could help you learn, hold your hand and reward you for every little thing you accomplished, even as small as finding the breaker, talking you through it, even for something as big as every time he makes you squirt.
OlderBf! König, even in things you might have experience in, he’ll baby you. he’ll baby you when you first kiss him, gently pressing his scarred lips against your plush, glossy ones, carefully holding your chin, guiding you even if you knew what you were doing. but god did it make you nervous when he did that, nervous enough to make the hand on your chin more than helpful. 
OlderBf! König, who is a total tease, but refuses to admit it. He knows how to get your pretty little head all riled up, and with his deep voice, his vocabulary more extensive than yours, even as his foreign language, in english, he speaks like a poet. even when he talks about the ways he would fuck you in his office. 
OlderBf! König, who wears sexy rectangle glasses every night as he closes his day with a chapter from a mystery book. he knows you look- stare at him, the way the glasses sit at the tip of his large, hooked nose, slightly crooked from a long-since healed break. a nose you have very lewdly felt between your legs.  
OlderBf! König, lets you babble to him about your day, responding in short hums as you chatter, taking no particular interest in your words because he’s too focused on your plump, glossy lips. doesn’t matter if your yelling, screaming, whining, crying, just plain talking, he loves the blush of your lips.
OlderBf! König, who doesn’t get jealous because he knows you’re all his. who enjoys the way you pout when you purposefully try to make him jealous, giggling and laughing with McTavish. but why can’t he just share his good little girl? knowing you’d probably like that too.
OlderBf! König, who can make you melt with just his eyes. not just his adorable puppy eyes that any man would bend for, but the way he looks down at[on] you, his towering height forcing you to deflate under his orders, piercing gaze making words out of stares. he isn’t a colonel for no reason, its hard to do anything but listen, especially when he whispers in your ear how to move your hips. 
OlderBf! König, who loves to mock the way you moaned the morning after. chuckling as he caresses your faces, using poetry to describe the way tears so beautifully filled your eyes, just as he filled you. 
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
i am a whole different person when hes mentioned
idk if i should do hcs again i’m more of a rambler yk?
directory 
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ihopeinevergetsoberr · 11 months
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Who says I’m sharing that bath with you?
female anatomy for reader (no use of y/n, gender-neutral pronouns)
nsfw, fluffy smut basically word count: 1900~ english is not my first language. if you spot any mistakes (grammatical especially), any typos/misspelled words or if you have any advices for me in general: please let me know. reblogs and comments are highly appreciated.
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art cr: @arcanescribbles
"Have some mercy on yourself," you mumble, wrapping an arm around his slender waist, and its thinness has you flabbergasted and somewhat concerned again. He doesn't hesitate. Allows you to place that weary head on his shoulder, to nuzzle into the crook of his neck – a pleasant relief in the guise of your heat, of the rhythmic breaths tickling his slimline skin.
"You can't work that much,” you remind him, trying to hide your evident worry behind a light-hearted chuckle.
“Have you ever heard of a proper greeting?” Viktor quirks an eyebrow, and his deft hand quickly grabs yours to do a thing that never fails to make your heart shrink; he has you melting at the feeling of his dry, warm lips on your knuckles yet again.
“Hug is a proper greeting,” you protest with a slightly offended scoff, burying your nose into the gorgeous mess of his hair —all unkempt strands and a sturdy scent of something pleasant, yet not exactly definable.
“Not when it comes with scolding,” Viktor releases your hand, the touch of his lips lingering on its skin, and he turns around, forcing you to break the embrace for a second — which you do reluctantly. But now you get to face him, and that certainly feels like a much bigger win.
A win and a one more reason to give him a lecture. Viktor initiates eye contact, runs a hand along the perfect curve of your hips, hoping that his gentle touch is a good enough distraction from his terribly deep eye-bags — so treacherously confirming your concerns about his sleep schedule (or the lack of such, to be precise).
"You've gotten thinner," you state with a sad frown, looking Viktor up and down. "And you need a nap," you continue, tangling two fingers into his hair. "And a bath.”
“I’ve missed you terribly, and that’s the first thing you mention when I finally have you in my arms?” Viktor cooed, staring at you with a guilty smile — your love-sick genius, always exhausted yet so unexplainably handsome in his own special way.
You scoff again. Wrap your arms around his neck, gently pressing him against the desk — a small gesture of care that allows his body a better support without the cane.
“Have you eaten today?” you carefully ask, watching his expression closely.
“Maybe,” he grudgingly answers, and his amber eyes are lancing right through you in the dull light of his lab — tired, attentive, pretty.
“I don’t like that answer,” your voice is a sweet purr against his skin, and he winces as you slide a hand down his chest, fixing his vest for him.
“You’re being incredibly annoying today,” he informs you, pressing a quick peck to your lips. A brief one, barely palpable, too fleeting to give you a proper taste. “Perhaps I should appease you.”
“If you want to appease me, a kiss like that won’t do.”
“Demanding, are we?” he quirked an eyebrow, casually sitting down at his desk, squeezing your waist in a playful attempt to pull you onto his lap. But you don’t move an inch. Not until he kisses you properly, at least.
He gets the hint. Gently grabs your chin, pressing your noses together, kissing the right way this time, deep and slow, with his tongue brushing your bottom lip before slipping into your open mouth — it’s almost lewd, actually, since this small motion stole a surprised moan from you. The kiss of a hungry, fervently missing his lover man. Your man.
“Better?” the question is rhetorical at this point. He knows he left you amazed and dizzy once again —your now out-of-rhythm breath is speaking for itself. But Viktor wouldn’t be Viktor if he hadn’t asked. The incorrigible tease at his best behaviour.
“Much better,” you give him the reassurance he’s been seeking, adding the missing touch to this affectionate gesture by nuzzling into your embrace, and he hums, satisfied with the solace you’ve so easily brought him purely with your presence.
“So.. is my darling appeased now?”
“Relatively,” you laugh, and a self-assured smirk plasters smugly across his face. “It won’t save you from having dinner with me tonight though.”
“Is that so? Well, I appreciate the effort, and the fact you came here just to visit your sick, touch-starved man, but I’m afraid I still have work to do—“
“I’m not here just to visit you,” you cut him off, as one of your hands slips off his neck straight to cup his sharp knee, “I’m here to collect you. I’m stealing you home with me.”
“Oh no,” he cracks an exaggeratedly offended expression, but judging from the still-present on his face grin — he’s actually rather pleased with your intentions. “Being abducted definitely doesn’t sound appealing to me at all.”
“That’s right,” you nod, gently nudging him. “I’ll even hold you hostage if that’s what it takes to bathe you and get you into bed.”
“But what a horrific torture!” he pulls away, slamming a hand to his chest with a low giggle — it lands on his sternum with a muffled slap, right where his thudding heart is. “How ever will I survive that?”
“I believe your fate is inevitable, so you better just accept it.”
“How unfortunate,” he murmurs, pulling you closer, and you gasp, allowing him to lay his cheek against your chest. “Can’t wait to end up in that bath with you,” he whispers, and you hitch in breath, your hand stops massaging his scalp.
“Who says I’m sharing that bath with you?” you tease light-heartedly, feeling his grip tighten around your waist.
“Me,” his response is firm and simple, yet still maddening enough for you to go weak in the knees. Apparently, his nap is being delayed again.
***
Bath with Viktor is a death sentence — a long and squirming one, of countless orgasms and moans loud enough to wake up the whole Piltover. You tried, you really did, to talk him out of it, to make him wait until at least after dinner, but he’s stubborn and knows damn well that you can’t resist him, so all your warnings about how he needs some rest first were muffled mercilessly by his tongue buried deep inside you. At this point, you’re not even sure whether he’s really that into devouring you, or if he’s just trying to prove you wrong, to show you that he’s never tired when it comes to eating you out.
He has you sitting on the edge of the bathtub, legs resting on his covered in crescent nail marks shoulders, and you tug, tug, tug on his hair as he tongue-fucks you through yet another insane release. If only he could smile right now, which was obviously impossible in his position, he would definitely give you the most provoking signature smirk. So you mentally thank his passion for giving head, since it’s the one to blame for his inability to destroy you even more with those grins and the witty dirty-talk right now. He has you right where he wants you: with your thighs wrapped tightly around his head, with your slick getting quite literally everywhere — on his tongue, on his chin, some on his chest even. And when you slam your head against the wall, light-headed and breathless, he knows it’s time to do a particularly vicious thing — to suck on your abused clit so hard he might as well just suck the damn soul out of you along with it.
Too much. Too overwhelming. And those sweat drops forming on his forehead, and the way he digs his wet fingers into the soft flesh of your legs, and the way he laps up so thoroughly-
“Gonna cum,” you gather the last strengths in your possession to mumble an illegible warning and the skillful bastard between your thighs only picks up pace, leaving you wondering how his tongue is still intact after all that frantic motions inside your cunt. But the technique is rather impressive. You stare at him, wide-eyed and with your lower lip bitten. His sinful gaze meets yours with a guttural rattle Viktor makes when you grip a strand of his dark hair so hard your knuckles turn white. You want to tell him how good his mouth feels, how indescribably hot he looks kneeling in the bathtub, how attractive his skin glistens right now, in the warm water. But the words are unnecessary. Your precious cussing as you come undone on his agile tongue is the best existing compliment to him.
So you deliver. He coaxes the third orgasm out of you. Leaves you throbbing, making one of your shaking legs slip off his slick shoulder into the water with a loud splash. He licks the remnants of you tauntingly-slow off his swollen lips, watching your every convulsion closely, and he’s proud, oh so proud of himself, that it almost re-turns you on all over again.
“Look at you,” his sultry whisper reminds you that his ability of being a smartass is back, now that his mouth is no longer full.
“Viktor,” you suffocate, grabbing his shoulder to hold on for dear life so you won’t fall out of the tub completely. He chuckles, carefully pulling you back into the water, thoughtful as always, like the gentleman he is. Well, if rearranging your guts with that tortuous tongue and thick cock could be considered something gentlemen do, of course.
He tastes like you now. His tongue is somewhat sour, much puffier in comparison to yours, and it’s not that animate anymore — he pushes it into your mouth rather lazily, evidently worn out by the intercourse.
“I thought the purpose of this bath was to get me cleaned, not dirty,” he whispers with a filthy giggle, wiping your slick off his chin. You roll your eyes, admitting that a single thing stopping you from biting him for that joke is a complete lack of energy. And the fact that he’d just one-upped every single man you'd slept with before. Once again.
“Oh fuck you,” you giggle back, snuggling into his chest, and it feels so gentle — the lust is gone and the only thing left between you is pure affection; divine, immaculate, expressed through the softness of your body and the sharpness of his.
“I would be a liar if I said it doesn’t sound tempting, but I don’t believe you’re in a state to do so, my love,” Viktor teases, but you don’t talk back. He left you witless. Too fucked out for your own liking and just perfect for his. “Do you think you can make it to the kitchen?” he asks, pointing at your wobbly legs.
“Yeah,” you hesitate for a second, reluctant to get out of the warm bath. “And you?”
“Oh, I’m not hungry,” Viktor shakes his head, and his response dramatically increases your urge to pinch him. That wasn’t the deal!
“No. Not a chance, you’re not skipping dinner again.”
“But I’ve already had dinner. Well. In a way,” he whispers, as the corners of his mouth curl into another insufferable smirk and it takes a good ten-second uncomfortable pause for you to understand the pun.
“Eating pussy is not an actual meal,” you frown, pulling away.
“And that’s so unfortunate, don’t you think? At least that way, I’d never skip them…”
“Viktor!”
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bussyslayer333 · 1 year
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There was something ‘bout you
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summary: bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him. college au
pairing: fratboy!bradley x tutor!reader
word count: 9.2k
warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, mentions of blood, teeny amount of violence, smut (oral and pinv), bradley sucks so bad but he’s cute!! MDNI 18+
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Bradley knew girls liked him, loved him even.
He once had a girl leave him a love letter after a night together. It was a sweet touch, the pink paper and the gel pen she’d written it in, he slept with her once more after that but had to cut her off once he caught her snipping a little bit of his hair off in the middle of the night.
Anyways, what Bradley had concluded is that he was an attractive guy. Not too classically like his roommate and best friend Jake with his blonde locks and ken doll looks. But in a boyish charming way with his “big brown puppy dog eyes” or whatever that girl had written in the letter.
So when his Eng Lit professor had told him he was going to be tutored by a girl in his class he was pretty excited to say the least. Truth be told, the only reason he had picked this Eng Lit class was because he knew there would be an abundance of girls in there, sure they were probably a little more intellectually advanced than the girls he would usually go for but maybe that was what he needed. Some girl obsessed with like gothic literature, Jake had assured him they were the freaks he needed to bag.
He’s already started tuning out Professor Clarke’s spiel on getting his grade up and started imagining all the hot girls in his class who could possibly be tutoring him. There was Clara, she was the kind of gothy Jake was on about, he could definitely be into that. Or even Natalie, she was who Bradley usually went for, pretty brunette and what Jake would call in his omniscience; a colossal rack.
“Bradley, are you listening to me?”
Bradley pulled his mind from the depths of analysis of the girls in his class and hummed,
“Yes, Professor.”
“So you know who I’m assigning to tutor you?”
Bradley winces apologetically and watches as Professor Clarke runs a hand down his face.
“Please, Bradley. I’m just asking you to try and put some effort in, she’s only gonna be able to do so much to help you, you need to help yourself.”
Bradley sighs, “who is it?”
When Professor Clarke gives Bradley your name and tells him that you’ll meet him after class tomorrow his first thought is “who the fuck is that?” and his second one is in mourning of being in forced proximity of a hot goth chick or one of the girls who he’s already slept with.
Bradley walks back to his house slightly dejected, if he couldn’t even recognise you from your name there was probably not a huge chance you were going to be the ‘bad boy gets taught in a different way by his tutor’ wet dream he was hoping for. When he finally gets back he finds Jake lounging on the couch with another one of his frat brothers Reuben.
Jake looks up from where him and Reuben are watching this weeks football highlights on the TV to meet Bradley’s moping gaze.
“You good bro?”
Bradley replies with a whine, “Professor Clarke is making some girl tutor me.”
Reuben snorts and shovels another handful of chips into his mouth, “hot.”
Bradley rolls his eyes and flops onto the couch in between his two friends. He says your name to the two boys and begins, “do you know her?”
Jake’s eyebrows furrow in thought for a moment before he smacks Reuben on the back of the head,
“Bro?” He whines.
“It’s the library chick!” Jake exclaims.
Reuben looks confused for a moment before he realises, “oh shit yeah!”
Jake and Reuben looks happy for themselves for a few moments before Bradley interrupts again, “When the fuck have you ever been to the library?”
Jake frowns, “I’ll have you know that I read, the classics are my favourite!”
“What classics?” Reuben scoffs.
Jake smiles, “You know, the classic ones?”
“Where’s Waldo isn’t a classic J,” Bradley smirks.
“Shut the fuck up, okay I was trying to impress this girl in my econ class.” Jake admits, “she’s very well read.”
Bradley mutters something about Jake being pussywhipped before deciding he needed to get back to the problem at hand. You.
“Okay, so library chick. Do I know her?”
Jake racks his mind for a minute, scowling at Reuben’s loud chewing sounds.
“Fuck, yeah okay, do you remember last year? She dropped that massive encyclopaedia on your hand after you whistled when she was bent over sorting out books.”
Bradley cringes in recollection. In his defence he did think he was complimenting you… albeit with not much class or subtlety. You were cute. Maybe a bit nerdy, but you clearly had guts which he appreciated.
“Shit.. yeah.”
Bradley hoped you weren’t one for grudges.
You weren’t for the most part, and when Professor Clarke had told you who you would be tutoring you had decided last years incident could be water under the bridge. You figured he didn’t even remember you, he hadn’t acknowledged your presence in the one class you shared either way.
However, when he came sauntering down from his seat right at the back of the lecture hall and paused in front of you by Professor Clarke’s desk you were already becoming mildly irritated.
Bradley could tell, and he also knew that he was goading it on by making eye contact with your tits before your eyes and then saying,
“Hey, beautiful.”
He watches as you scoff and mutter something that sounds similar to “fucking prick.” It makes him smile.
Professor Clarke sighs loudly and speaks directed towards you, “I trust you’ll be able to help Bradley, Lord knows he needs it.”
Bradley’s smile drops, “Hey! I literally submitted my last assignment in on time!”
Your face drops in shock, is that seriously what he considers a win?
Professor Clarke looks at Bradley and sighs once again, “you sent me a gif of a rat dancing and made the subject of the email “The Great Ratsby”.”
Bradley sputters slightly but clears his throat feeling the weighted stare of Professor Clarke still on him. The older man smiles thinly as you thank him for his time and move towards the door. Bradley is hot on your tail, and he rounds on you once the reach the corridor.
“So…. how are we doing this angel?”
Bradley can’t control how his lips quirk upwards at you apparent distaste for the pet name. He can’t help but wonder what you’d appreciate more; maybe sweetheart or baby or something cute like bunny. He’s snapped out of his thought process by you waving your hand in front of his face.
“Earth to Bradley?” You quip.
He shakes his head a smiles, “Sorry what was that sweetheart?”
He notices how your brows furrowed once again before you start up, “I could book a study room in the library? Wednesday at 6?”
Bradley nods, “Sure, can I get your number?”
You’re taken aback slightly before Bradley clarifies, “So we can text about when to meet?”
“Oh. Right, yeah of course.”
Bradley reaches for his phone in his hoodie pocket and hands it to you, opening it up to his contacts. Before you can type in your number you can’t help but notice the sheer amount of girls in his contacts. All with specific names.
cass (toothy ❌)
natalie (.)(.)
samantha (screamer ✅)
It makes you’re stomach churn in mild horror, which your push down in favour of finally typing in your number. You hand his phone back to him and watch as he chuckles whilst writing your contact name. He doesn’t let you see it before shooting you off a short “hi” text to send his number to your phone.
Bradley stares at you for a moment before whistling, “right… so I’ll see you Wednesday?”
You smile awkwardly back at him, “yeah.”
He readjusts his cap and nods in a goodbye before turning to leave the building. You try to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as you walk out the exit opposite.
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It’s 6:45 on Wednesday when Bradley finally shows up. He’s wearing black joggers and a top that you presume is a few sizes too small with a cap placed backwards on his head.
He felt kind of shitty about being late, he was leaving to get to the library at 10 to 6 when Jake and his other frat brother Mickey called him over whilst they were playing COD, he thought he could squeeze in a game and not be too late. Evidently, he was wrong.
You’re reading a book which he doesn’t recognise when he finds you in the study room and begins to apologise.
“I’m sorry for being late sweetheart-”
“Yeah. Whatever Bradley, let’s just start.” You breathe out, not having the energy to listen to his excuses.
Bradley’s pissed at that. He came in here willing to apologise and you think you can make him feel bad? Not likely.
“There’s no need to get bitchy? I literally said I’m sorry.” Bradley snorts, pulling a chair out opposite you with a loud scrape.
You scoff, “seriously? I’ve been waiting for you for almost an hour!”
“Yeah and I said sorry!”
“That’s not the point-”
You catch yourself before you carry on, he wasn’t worth the waste of breath.
“Look it’s fine. Let’s just get started.”
Bradley pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek and leans back.
“Alright.”
The session is as productive as you can make it with your significantly shorter period of time. You find out that Bradley knows little to nothing about any of the texts that you’re studying and enjoys annoying you deeply. You’re not sure whether he hates silence or just loves the sound of his own voice. You figure it’s the latter.
“You’re glasses don’t fit you properly.” He points out after you push them up your nose for the third time in the past minute.
They’re slipping down your nose as you look down to read over some notes Bradley had made.
“Sure they do.”
Bradley shrugs and leans back again. You can feel his heavy gaze on you as you push your glasses back up again. He doesn’t say anything. Just smiles.
You’re cute, for sure. He kind of digs your chunky cardigan library assistant vibe. Maybe if you loosened up a little he’d like you even more. Bradley starts to wonder what you’d be like at one of his frat parties. He doesn’t think he’s seen you anywhere outside of class or the library. Maybe you’d go absolutely buck wild after a few of Reuben’s infamously too strong drinks. He figures you’re probably his friend Bob’s type, you’re both sort of nerdy and cute in a mousy way.
Bradley doesn��t realise he’s been zoned out looking at your face for the past two minutes until he sees a book being dropped down on the desk in front of him. It gives him slight PTSD from the encyclopaedia incident. He picks up the book and looks at you, confused.
“What’s this?”
You laugh with an almost unbelieving look on your face.
“Shakespeare? Romeo and Juliet? We’ve just started going over it in class?”
Bradley picks up the book of various Shakespeare plays and skims through it until he reaches Romeo and Juliet.
“Yeah, my bad, I think I recognise this.”
You cringe inwardly at the amount of work you’re probably going to have to put in to stop Bradley from failing.
“Great.”
Bradley smiles at what he thinks is praise from you and goes back to reading the first scene of the play. You’re blessed with a blissful silence for a moment whilst Bradley reads and you send off a few texts to you roommate Maya about how the tutoring session is going.
maya 😘😘
how is it???????
you
he’s an idiot
i’m pretty sure i saw him read dickens on the reading list and snort and then mumble “dick” under his breath
maya 😘😘
LMFAO
the cute ones are never smart
you
ew
maya 😘😘
shut up you’d hit
you
i find that offensive
Before you can send off another annoyed text to your friend, Bradley speaks up again.
“Do you like, read and shit?”
You stifle a giggle, “what?”
“Like books?”
“Are you seriously asking the girl who works at the library-”
Bradley chuckles, “Okay! I see my mistake, what’s you’re favourite book then?”
You hum whilst staring at him, it was an oddly thoughtful question.
“Probably Wuthering Heights. It’s by Emily Brontë.”
You’re not quite sure why you told him the last part. There was no doubt in your mind that Bradley Bradshaw did not know who the Brontë sisters were.
He cocks his head to the side, “what’s it about?”
You’re not sure whether Bradley genuinely wants to know about you and your interests or if he just doesn’t want to actually study, Bradley is equally confused because he’s asking his question in earnest.
“It’s about this guy called Heathcliff who gets adopted into this family and falls in love with his sister Catherine, he grows up to find out that she’s a married another man and basically becomes obsessed with avenging what could have been his.” You try to explain as simply as possible.
“HIS SISTER?” Bradley exclaims with a laugh.
“It’s not like that-”
“Babe, I didn’t realise you were into that freak shit.”
You can’t control your laugh at the absurdity of his words. Bradley really likes that sound, and the way that your eyes crinkle. It’s weird, he suddenly feels like he wants to be the only person to make you do that.
Once you’ve calmed down you look back up to see Bradley staring at you once again. You quirk an eyebrow up questioningly before looking at the clock behind him.
“Shit, we need to go. I only booked this place till 8.”
“What! I swear I only just got here!”
You snort, “Yeah well if you’d been on time…”
Bradley pouts at you, “Baby, please. I’m sorry.”
It’s half mocking, but the way he’s staring up at you with wide eyes makes your stomach flutter slightly. You shake your head as if to banish the thoughts and begin picking up your books.
“Just be on time next week, please.”
Bradley stands, moving round the table and pats you on the head.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
The gesture makes your frown slightly, but it served as a reminder for how you suppose Bradley truly feels about you. You’re not friends, and he doesn’t like you in any romantic capacity. You’re just the girl forced into tutoring him.
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The next few tutoring sessions go somewhat the same. Bradley has a short attention span but tries his best, he’s nice enough to you that you can sometimes forget he’s slept with half the girls in your class.
You’re sat next to him in the study room doing some quick flash card recap questions. He’s fiddling with a thread at the end of your long sleeve shirt, it feels kind of intimate but you don’t want to look into it too hard. It’s been like this over the past few weeks, touches that last too long and his incessant usage of pet names. But, every time you begin to let yourself feel special you’ll catch a glimpse of a girls name flash across his phone screen and your predicament hits you right across the face with a loud crack; shattering the hope you’ve been building.
Bradley moves from playing with the thread on your top sleeve to your fingers, mumbling a correct answer to one of your questions. He keeps finding the need to be close to you, and not even always in a sexual way which shocks him the most. Don’t get him wrong, he’s definitely thought about it a few times in the shower, or in his bed or even when he was fucking Natalie last week and he suddenly thought about how cute you’d look with your glasses sliding down your nose whilst you’re sat on top of him. He had to look away from Natalie for the rest of the time she was there, he felt too guilty.
The morning after when Natalie had left surprisingly early, Jake (who had been noticing the lack of girls flowing in and out of his shared room on Bradley’s part) had an inkling as to why.
“You like her.” Jake declares as he plops himself down in the gaming chair in his room, spinning to face where Bradley is lying on his bed.
“What?”
“The library chick. The one who’s been tutoring you.” Jake expands.
“What do you mean?”
“You like her!”
Bradley huffs, annoyed at Jake’s insistence, “yeah, she’s cool.”
Jake rolls his eyes, “no, you like like her.”
“You’re 12, and no I don’t!” Bradley removes his hands from behind his head and moves to sit up straighter against his headboard.
Jake clicks his tongue, “okay so you wouldn’t mind if I fucked her?”
Bradley cocks his head to the side but doesn’t say anything.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, she’s kind of hot.”
Jake watched as a muscle in Bradley’s jaw ticks. He knows he’s struck gold.
“Maybe we’ll do some roleplay, she can be my sexy teacher and I’ll bend her over the desk.” Jake wraps his knuckles against the desk behind him and chuckles, “sturdy.”
Jake knows he’s almost got Bradley as he watches him clench and unclench his fist.
“I mean that ass, it’s insane really I’ll tell you how it feels afterwards if you-”
“Shut the fuck up! Fuck! Fine okay I fucking like her, what do you want me to say?!”
Bradley’s outburst doesn’t surprise Jake in the slightest. In fact, it puts a smile on his face.
“Nothing. I just wanted to know.”
Bradley rubs a hand down his face, he’s pretty sure he’s never felt like this before. It kind of scares him to be honest.
“You should invite her here on Friday.”
Friday. For the party. Bradley thinks about it for a second, “Bro, not if you’re going to try and fuck her.”
Jake chuckles, “she’s all yours, her roommate is the girl from my econ class so if anything this is selfish of me.”
Bradley smiles, “alright.”
After Bradley answers another question correct you smile at him brightly.
“Looks like somebody’s been hitting the books!” You poke, setting your flash cards down on the table.
Bradley warms at the praise and looks at you for a moment.
“Will you come to my party on Friday?”
You study his face for a moment, he looks almost nervous.
“I don’t know Brad, it’s not really my scene and I wouldn’t really know anyone,” you smile apologetically at him.
“You know me!” Bradley reasons, pulling your hand into his.
“And you’re gonna spend the whole night sitting with me? You’re funny.”
Bradley thinks about how he’d definitely do that if you asked him to.
“Bring your roommate! Maya is it? I’m pretty sure Jake is in love with her.”
Bradley’s words make you giggle and you consider for a moment, when you look back to Bradley he’s got an adorable pout on his lips,
“Please don’t make me beg, angel.”
Although the idea of Bradley on his knees begging is tempting, you’re not that cruel. You pretend to think for a moment more before answering.
“Fine. But only in the name of Jake and Maya.”
Bradley is pleased with your answer, “Thanks, angel.”
You smile, “whatever.”
You check your phone and find that you’ve spent the last 10 minutes of the session just chatting with Bradley.
“We need to go,” You remind him.
Bradley looks a little crestfallen but stands anyway. He helps you gather your books and puts them into your tote bag for you.
“Thanks.” You mumble as he hands the bag to you.
He scratches the back of his head for a moment before speaking, “Can I, like, walk you back?”
His gesture makes you smile, as well as his sort of nervous demeanour, “Little old me? Bradley Bradshaw wants to walk little old me home?” you tease.
The familiar smirk makes its way back onto Bradley’s face at your prodding. “Shut up, I’m being a gentleman or whatever.”
“Well then, who am I to decline?” You smile at him.
“Dork.” Bradley mutters under his breath as he opens the door for you.
Bradley takes your bag off of your shoulder and places it on his own, once he feels the weight settles down he looks at you shocked,
“You carry this shit around everywhere?”
The confused look in his eye makes you laugh, “yes?”
“This is so heavy? What are you even carrying?”
“Books? My laptop?”
Bradley laughs, “Shit, maybe I need to start coming to these sessions more prepared.”
Bradley pushes open the main door to the library and the cold night air hits you unexpectedly, making you shiver in your long sleeve tee. He looks down at your attire and rolls his eyes.
“Hold this for a sec.” Bradley drops your bag back into your hands and begins to pull his hoodie up over his head.
You go to protest but your mouth falls open awkwardly at the way his t-shirt rides up, exposing his toned lower abdomen and the sprinkling of hair that leads all the way down-
“Angel?”
“Yes! Sorry, what?” You stutter out with a chuckle.
Bradley gestures for you to hand him back the bag and hands out the hoodie with his other hand. You take it and pull it over your head, revelling in the smell of it. It’s partly his cologne and the rest something uniquely him.
“Ready to go?” Bradley asks, looking down at you.
“Sure,” You smile up at him.
Bradley feels his stomach flip, looking down at your frame drowned in his hoodie. Before he can even process what he’s doing Bradley has slipped his hand into yours. You don’t say anything in fear of him retracting it but the smile that sits on your face is blinding.
You walk in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Bradley squeezing your hand every now and then in reassurance. You turn a corner and watch as you apartment complex comes into view. Squeezing his hand you look up at him and speak,
“This is me.”
Bradley pouts a little, “You don’t want me to walk you all the way in?”
You giggle and shake your head, “No don’t worry.”
You reach for the hem of the hoodie and begin to pull it up when Bradley stops you.
“Keep it. Please. It looks better on you.” He almost whispers.
You flush at his words and look at him with furrowed brows, trying to study his expression. Whether he’s being truthful or not. He hands your bag back over to you and nods.
“If you’re sure.” You smile, “I’ll see you Friday?”
Bradley winks, “You better.”
“Night Bradley.”
“Goodnight, angel.” Bradley hums.
He watches your retreating frame until you’re inside of your building before spinning on his heel to walk in the opposite direction back to his house.
Bradley pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking through his messages as he walks. He finds himself deleting almost all of the irrelevant numbers from girls that had been littering his contacts without much thought. Once he’s done he goes to pocket his phone again before it vibrates in his hand.
angel ❤️‍🩹
thank u <3
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Maya has been ready to go for the past half an hour as she sits on your bed and watches as you pick up various dresses and items of clothing before discarding them on the floor.
You’ll admit you probably look ridiculous stood in your underwear with a full face of makeup on and your hair pulled up into a styled ponytail but it was not your priority at this second.
“I have nothing to wear! I’m not going Maya, just go without me!”
Maya sighs and walks towards you’re closet, rifling through the particularly skimpy dresses you had purposely avoided. She pulls out a short blue halter neck dress and shoves it into your hands.
“Go put this on.”
You roll your eyes at her tone, “okay, mom.”
“And don’t ruin the makeup I did!”
You wander into the little bathroom and begin to pull the dress over your head when Maya opens the door with a tiny scrap of fabric in her hands.
“You are not wearing those granny panties,” She looks pointedly down at the cotton panties with flowers that you have on.
You pout, “They’re comfy.”
Maya struts over and places the lacy garment in your hand, “Bradley can thank me later.”
“Shut up!” You exclaim, trying to hide your smile.
“I’ll be in here if you need me,” She giggles,
“Wait! Maya you didn’t give me a bra!” You whine.
She rolls her eyes, “I know.” Before closing the door behind her.
You strip out of your comfy underwear and look down at the baby blue lace and sigh, at least you’d shaved. Pulling the dress over your head whilst trying to maintain Maya’s artistry was hard but not impossible you found, and when you pulled the dress the rest of the way down you realised you didn’t need a bra anyway. You spin a little, looking at yourself in the mirror. You looked good.
There’s a new found confidence in your walk as you make your way back to your bedroom where Maya is sat fiddling with the buckle on a pair of wedges in her lap. When she looks up she hollers at you,
“Damnn! Twirl for me gorgeous!”
You laugh at her antics but indulge her anyway gasping in faux shock when she slaps your butt playfully. She hands over the wedges and your eyes widen slightly at the height.
Maya laughs at your expression, “baby don’t worry I’m sure they’ll be in the air more than they’ll be on the ground anyway.”
“You’re relentless!” You swat at her before bending down to do up the shoes.
You gather your phone and some lipgloss before linking your arms in Maya’s.
“Let’s go?”
“Let’s go.” She confirms.
You check your phone once your a block away from Bradley’s frat house. There’s a few messages from him that you’ve yet to respond to.
brad 🙃
when are u getting here??
i miss u angel
you
almost there :)
You snort at how needy Bradley sounded, there was probably enough girls there to keep him entertained.
It’s not hard to miss Bradley’s house, there are people littered around the front yard drinking and the music could be heard from at least a block away. As you walk up the steps on the front porch you wobble slightly on your wedges and Maya steadies you, she sees the anxious look in your eyes and smiles,
“You look so hot right now babe,”
You roll your eyes but let the nerves sink down as she grips onto your hand tighter.
The house is pretty packed with girls in tiny outfits and an unnerving amount of shirtless dudes. Maya leads you through the crowds to where there’s a group of dudes playing beer pong. As you get closer you recognise Jake and Bradley and a few other guys from their frat.
Jake spots you both first, nudging Bradley. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous when Bradley makes eye contact with you and starts making his way over, much to the disappointment of the frat bro he was playing with. You look to your side to find that Maya has already made her way over to Jake and when you look back Bradley is right in front of you.
He’s still tall enough that you have to look up to make eye contact with him, and his cologne clouds your thoughts. He takes your hand and drags you over to a quieter corner of the room. Bradley’s eyes rake over your form hungrily, you drop your hands in front of your stomach almost on autopilot.
“You look incredible, angel.” Bradley speaks earnestly.
He takes both your hands in his and holds them up so he can stare at you again.
You can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks as you look up at him, “You think?” You ask somewhat coyly.
Bradley nods, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, making you giggle. He takes one of your hands and spins you around just slightly and whistles lowly,
“Can I take a picture?”
You roll your eyes and spin back around to face him, pushing lightly at his chest, “Shut up.”
He raises both hands in mock defence and shrugs, “worth a shot.”
You move to stand to the side of him, back against the wall and take a moment to look at him. He looks handsome, as always, but you can tell he’s put extra effort in. He’s wearing a thin shirt with two of the middle buttons done up and dark jeans. You’re sure he could have forgone the shirt with how much of his skin is exposed but you can’t complain seeing how tightly it fits around his biceps. His hair is tousled but in a way that looks purposeful and he smells incredible.
Without realising, you’ve inched closer to Bradley and his cologne hits your nose in a pleasant surprise. When you meet his eyes you find that he’s already looking at you.
“You smell good,” you murmur.
Bradley leans down so that you can hear him clearly, “thank you, angel.”
His lips brush against the shell of your ear so delicately that you could almost pretend that you imagined it, but the way a shiver runs down your spine tells you otherwise. Before you get a chance to compose yourself Bradley is imposing on your personal space again and speaking into you ear,
“Do you want me to get you a drink?” He nods towards the kitchen on the far side of the house.
You consider for a moment, then nod.
“Please.”
Maybe it would help calm your nerves.
“I’ll be back in a sec.”
Bradley departs from his space next to you with a wink, his lack of presence already making you frown. Instead of moping, you survey the surrounding area for Maya, hoping to check in with her.
You finally catch sight of her when her hot pink dress catches your eye as she ascends the main staircase with a tall blonde who you can only recognise as Jake. You giggle, swiping open your phone to send her a text.
you
use protection 😘
You can only hope she reads your message.
After a few more moments of scrolling through your phone you look up to realise Bradley still hasn’t made his way back to you. First you consider the fact that this is a party that he is hosting, he could have been sidetracked by any one of his numerous frat brothers or friends.
So, you decide to make your way to the kitchen, just so you could retrieve your drink of course.
What you’re not prepared to see is short brunette girl kissing Bradley, because of course that’s what held him up from getting your drink. It serves as a reminder of the fact that he is not your boyfriend and had no intention of being so, you figure he probably got tired of waiting for you to put out so he moved onto the next girl. You see that someone had lined up a few tequila shots on the counter nearest to you and knock back the few closest, wincing as the liquid warms the back of your throat all the way down to your stomach.
You close your eyes and breathe out, stomach churning from the shots and sight you’ve just seen, you spin on your heel to walk away from the counter but stumble whilst turning around too quickly. You probably would have hit the floor if it wasn’t for a strong grasp, steadying you by the waist.
“Shit, you okay darlin’?” The person who saved you from near embarrassment drawls out.
You steady yourself with hands on his surprisingly hard chest and look up into his blue eyes. He’s handsome, even with his wired frame glasses slipping down his sloped nose. He’s not less attractive than Bradley, just in a more refined way.
“God, I’m sorry, I’m not used to wearing shoes this high yet.” You mumble sheepishly, frustrated that you’ve managed to embarrass yourself in front of another freakishly attractive man.
“I’m Robert or Bob or whatever you want to call me,” Robert smiles down at you, speaking somewhat loudly to combat the thumping bass of whatever song was currently playing.
You give him your name and he smiles brighter if possible, almost as if he’s shocked you’re still talking to him.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He charms, watching you giggle.
His words almost make you forget what you had seen in the kitchen, the memory making you frown ever so slightly. Robert mistakes this for annoyance at his words and quickly adds on,
“Sorry, that was stupid and-”
You’re quick to silence his anxieties, “No, I liked it.” You speak in earnest, propelled by liquid courage.
Robert scratches the back of his neck and cocks his head to the side, “Do you want to dance?”
His question makes you smile, because yeah you do want to dance and fuck Bradley Bradshaw.
“Totally.” You beam up at him.
Robert pulls you toward the living room where people are crammed together dancing, sweaty bodies moving on top of each other in some cases almost obscenely.
The music seems to be vibrating off of the walls and the familiar voices of Rihanna and Bryson Tiller fill your ears. Robert seems somewhat apprehensive but the tequila buzzing through you makes you confident as you turn you back to him, grinding your ass back subtly as to test the waters. Robert’s hands move to grip at your waist, aiding you in grinding back onto him. You move one of your arms to rest around his neck and you giggle as you hear him groan quietly into your hair.
Bradley returns to where he’d left you flustered and annoyed carrying two red cups. Natalie had cornered him in the kitchen and tried to kiss him. He was furious, he’d sent her a text a few days ago apologising and letting her know he wasn’t interested in seeing her again. Clearly, that didn’t matter to her. After she had forced herself on him, he shoved her off somewhat awkwardly and told her firmly that he wasn’t interested. Bradley realised she was clearly already plastered and retrieved one of her friends from nearby to look after her.
He felt bad for leaving you on your own for so long but he hoped that if he could explain you wouldn’t be too annoyed.
However, when he gets back he finds that you’re not there. Initially, he worries that you’d left to go home. But after scanning the large living room packed with people, he spots you, grinding back onto his friend Bob.
Bradley’s stomach drops watching how you giggle at something Bob has whispered into your ear, how his hands and wrapped around your waist and how your ass is grinding back onto his crotch.
Without realising, Bradley has began to storm through the clumps of intoxicated people, dropping the drinks on a side table nearby. Fuelled by anger and jealously he pulls at one of Bob’s arms wrapped around your waist.
Bob stumbles back and turns with brows furrowed,
“Bradley? Are you okay-”
Before he can finish his question, Bradley’s fist hits the side of Bob’s nose with a sickening crunch, pushing him to the ground before raising his fist to hit him again.
The people who were previously dancing have made a circle around the commotion, drawing the attention of Bradley’s frat brothers Reuben and Mickey who push to the middle of the circle and grab Bradley before he can cause anymore damage.
“What the fuck man!” Reuben scolds in his ear, pulling him from his anger induced trance.
Bradley stops struggling against Reuben and Mickey’s grip, and instead looks down to see you tearfully wiping at the blood spilling from Bob’s nose in copious amounts.
Your watery eyes are looking up at him with so much anger that he feels bile rising in his throat. He runs a bruised hand through his sweaty hair and sighs. He can hear Mickey trying to get everyone to disperse, clearly not wanting his friend’s dirty laundry being aired out in front of everyone they know. Bradley can’t focus on any of the words being spoken to him, just the utter look of disappointment on your face.
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A few hours later almost everyone has left the house. You’re sat on a bench in the backyard knees tucked under you and wedges removed and on the floor. Maya and Jake are sat next to you, they had returned to find an almost empty house save for you and Jake’s frat brothers.
Bradley had stormed out following Reuben and Mickey’s intervention, he couldn’t handle looking at your sad face and being the one who caused it.
“I just don’t know what the fuck he wants from me!” You exclaim to Maya.
Her and Jake had been filled in by you and Jake had the decency to look sheepish. It was his idea to invite you tonight, he knew how Bradley felt about you but it wasn’t necessarily his place to say.
You didn’t know how to feel, you were still upset from seeing him kiss that girl, confused as to why he punched Robert if he clearly wasn’t interested in you. Maybe it was some strange frat bro mentality, he didn’t want you but he also didn’t want anyone else to have you? It was all too confusing for 2am.
Maya’s hand is comforting on your back, rubbing circles and trying to alleviate the stress radiating off of you. Guilt is eating at Jake’s stomach and he’s about to spill everything he knows when he hears the glass patio doors opening from behind him.
He turns back and makes eye contact with Bradley, trying to non verbally say “not the time.” But you’ve noticed his presence before Jake can save him.
“Fuck off, Bradley.”
Bradley winces, he deserves your anger.
“Angel, please. Hear me out?” Bradley pleads.
He looks awkward, scratching at the back of his neck, nervous for your answer.
You look to Maya and she shrugs. She thinks you should hear him out, of course she does.
You sigh, “Fine.”
Jake and Maya exchange words silently and move to leave. Jake pats Bradley on the shoulder, he knows how shitty Bradley feels about how tonight went down and he also knows that he’s just been at Bob’s apartment apologising profusely.
Bradley sits down on the bench next to you, he wants nothing more than to pull you into his lap and tuck his chin on top of your head, but he knows that probably wouldn’t go down too well right now.
“I’m so fucking sorry angel.” Bradley breathes out.
You raise your eyebrows, “I don’t get you Bradley!” you huff out, “You walk me home and call me ‘angel’ and you have no concept of personal space but then I see you kissing some girl in the kitchen whilst you’re supposedly getting me a drink and then as soon as I-”
“I wasn’t kissing anyone!” Bradley cuts in, confused.
“Bradley there was only one person in that house wearing a floral button up and he was kissing a girl in the kitchen when I went to check on you.”
Bradley racks his brain for a moment before he realises what you’re talking about.
“Oh shit. Natalie.” Bradley concludes, mostly to himself.
You roll your eyes, “Great to know you caught her name before you let her shove her tongue down your throat.”
Now you knew her name you recognised her, she was in your Eng Lit class. Natalie was gorgeous to make you feel even worse.
“Angel, I didn’t want to kiss her.” Bradley sighs, “she was wasted and pushed herself on me.”
You look at him sadly, wanting so badly to believe him, “really?”
Bradley shuffles closer towards you, placing his hand over yours resting on the faded wood of the bench.
“I wouldn’t lie, angel.” Bradley promises, squeezing your hand.
“Still doesn’t excuse you acting like a fucking neanderthal and punching Robert, he didn’t deserve that. He’s sweet.” You’re not willing to fully forgive him yet.
Bradley feels anxiety pool in his stomach, at the thought of what he’s going to have to say to you.
“I know and I told him how sorry I was. I just, you make me crazy you know?” Bradley laughs out, “the first time I met you, you dropped an encyclopaedia on my hand. Do you remember that?”
You giggle slightly at the memory, “You deserved it.”
“Yeah well the thing is sweetheart, I deserve a lot of shit. I know I kind of fucking suck, but one thing I really don’t deserve is you.” Bradley smiles nervously.
“You’re so smart, and I’m such an idiot because I thought I could try and pretend that I’m not in love with you.”
Your eyes widen at Bradley’s confession. He looks pale with anxiety, he doesn’t think he can remember a time where he’d ever been nervous when talking to a girl. But this was so much different. Because it’s you.
Bradley can’t help the word vomit that seems to be pouring out of his lips, “You’re so beautiful, but that’s not the reason I love you. I love how smart you are and how you’re funnier than me and all my friends combined. I love the way you make me feel when I’m with you. I know I’ve probably completely fucked this up tonight but I just wanted you to know how I feel.”
The vulnerability in Bradley’s words makes your heart clench, the way his eyes are staring at you so deeply, shining in the moonlight like he’d do anything for you. You can feel the tears pooling in your lash line.
“Oh Bradley.” You give him a watery smile, reaching your free hand up to cup at his jawline.
“I love you too, you dick.”
Bradley laughs, loud. Relief is sweet but not as sweet as how you look, staring at him with wide eyes and pouted lips.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispers.
You nod and surge forward, hands coming to rest around his neck. Bradley pulls you into his lap and connects your lips. He thinks about the cherry chapstick you always carry in your bag and how he can taste it on you now, how soft your lips feel against his. His tongue pushes against your lips tentatively, you grant him access and sigh contentedly at the feeling of him.
One of Bradley’s hands is soft at the back of your head, guiding you against him gently whilst the other is tracing circles against your hips rhythmically. You trace your nails in patterns against the short hair and the back of his head and smile into the kiss as he moans at the feeling.
Bradley goes to deepen the kiss once again but is stopped abruptly by a noise coming from behind him.
“We should check on them, oh-”
You pull back from Bradley sheepishly with a wet saliva caused noise and make eye contact with Maya. Then Jake.
Jake is the first to laugh, “I told you they’d be fine.”
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You wake up before Bradley at noon the next day. You’re lying in his bed draped in a large t-shirt of his.
The sun is streaming through his thin curtains and you’ve been swapping your gaze between a shirtless Bradley and something that caught your eye on his bedside table.
Bradley begins to stir with an aggressive yawn and stretch that almost wipes you out. You whack his arm out of your face and lean down kiss his forehead.
“Morning, sleeping beauty.” You giggle.
Bradley groans and smushes his face into your boobs,
“I’m tired.” he mumbles, muffled.
You thread a hand through his curls and speak tentatively,
“I have a question.”
Bradley sits up at that, moving so he can look at you properly.
“When did you get this?” You reach for the book on his bedside table, it’s a copy of Wuthering Heights with an old receipt sticking out at around the half way mark being used in place of a proper bookmark.
Bradley’s cheeks flush slightly, “Like, I don’t know. Maybe a few days after that first session in the library.”
Your cheeks hurt from trying to suppress your smile. You reach forward and kiss him sweetly, handing resting on his toned chest.
When you pull back he chuckles, “I wanted to impress you.”
“That is the sexiest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Bradley cackles at your emission until he realises how deadly serious you’re being.
“Angel.. we need to change that.” He smiles, lifting at the hem of his shirt on your frame.
You hum and connect your lips again, slipping your tongue into his mouth as he begins to pull at the t-shirt.
You separate for a moment to let him pull it off you fully. On reaction your hands reach up to cover yourself but Bradley catches them before you get the chance. He manoeuvres you so that he’s now the one on top and stares down at you hungrily.
“Jesus christ, angel.”
His hands reach for you breasts, squeezing them appreciatively. His thumbs flick over your pebbled nipples, smirking upon seeing how you preen into his touch, back arching up off of the bed.
Bradley moves to kiss down from your lips to you collarbones, paying specific attention to your pulse point, tongue lathing at where he sucked a mark too harshly. He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, straining against his boxers, at the sounds of your little whimpers and moans.
Bradley attaches his lips to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue in circles, revelling at how your breath hitches.
“Fuck, please Brad,” you whimper from underneath him.
He unlatches his lips and rests his head on your stomach.
“What do you need angel? Anything.” He promises.
Your teeth bite into your bottom lip as you consider, “your mouth?”
Bradley smiles at your request and shucks the covers off from his back, he moves down the bed slightly and sits back on his knees. His hands reach forward to grasp at your panties, pulling them down your legs. You lift your hips to aid him and giggle at how he holds them appreciatively once they’re off.
“These are cute.” He admits.
“Thanks, babe.” You giggle, make a mental note to tell Maya.
“But this. This is fucking incredible.”
Bradley lifts your legs over his shoulders, head dipping down to look at your pussy. He blows a cool breath onto your glistening folds and smirks at how your squirm at the feeling.
“Does me reading seriously make you this soaked?” Bradley chuckles.
You buck your hips up and whine, “yes! It’s cute you wanted to impress me.”
Bradley laughs and decides to put and end to your waiting, licking a stripe up your folds. The sound you make is music to his ears. He swirls his tongue around your clit, arms holding your thighs from closing around his head.
He licks at you languidly and moans against your pussy, “you taste amazing.”
Bradley’s words make you whimper, a shiver of arousal running down your spine.
“Keep going, baby please.”
Bradley’s tongue dips into your hole, fucking into you for a moment before coming back up to swirl at your clit. He’s moaning almost as much as you, the vibrations making your hips jerk up against his hold. You reach a hand down to grab at his hair making Bradley whimper. The noise shocks you slightly and makes you gush, pleasing Bradley to no end.
He sucks at your clit, spurred on by your hand grasping at his curls.
“Fuck, I’m close Brad please.” You whimper out.
Bradley flicks at your clit once more then pulls away, tongue poking out to lick at your juices that have accumulated around his chin.
You whine at the loss of contact and the pout on your lips almost makes Bradley cave, before he speaks up again.
“I want to feel you around me angel.”
You shiver at his words and nod, pulling him up by his chin to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you can tell he knows it too by the way he smiles against your lips.
He pulls back only to reach for a condom from a drawer in his bedside table. He hands it to you to open whilst he pulls off his boxers. Although, you’re sort of hypnotised by how handsome he looks in the sunlight peaking in through his cheap curtains. His skin is tan and he has a few moles dotted around his chest, but most importantly there’s a sprinkling of dark hair that spans from between his pecs all the way down into his happy trail. When you catch sight of his cock your mouth waters slightly and Bradley laughs.
“It’s rude to stare, angel.”
“It’s rude that half the girls on this campus have seen the snake between your legs, Bradley.”
He snorts at you short streak of jealousy and moves to cup your cheeks with his hands.
“You’re the only one for me, angel.”
He sighs against your lips as he feels your small hands wrap around his dick. He looks down and groans loudly at the sight of you slowly stroking him before ripping open the condom he had given to you.
You let go of him so that he can roll the condom down his length, shuffling down so you can lie with your head resting against the pillows. Bradley sits on his knees between your thighs, staring down at you intensely.
“You’re so beautiful, angel.”
He leans down to connect your lips quickly and pulls back only slightly so he can watch your features as he guides his cock towards your entrance, dripping in arousal.
He pushes in slowly, smirking as you whimper quietly. You roll your eyes at his expression and whisper into his ear,
“Fuck me like you mean it, Bradshaw.”
Bradley laughs and hikes your legs up higher around his waist. He plunges into you without warning, revelling in how you squeak in surprise. His thrusts are deep and calculated, hitting at the right spot almost every time.
You moan out gutturally, “shit, right there Brad.”
The way his name rolls off your lips make Bradley grunt in pleasure, speeding up his thrusts if even possible. You feel incredible around him, squeezing at him just right. Bradley continues his ministrations but reaches a hand down to toy at your clit, smirking at how your moans increase in pitch. He makes circles around the bundle of nerves and feels his eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your walls are pulsing against him.
You reach a hand down over Bradley’s to swirl at your clit, he groans loudly at the sight, head dropping down to stare at where he’s fucking in and out of you. He moans a little pathetically but can’t feel it within himself to be embarrassed when you tighten so deliciously around him.
“I’m really close, angel.” He groans, leaning down to breathe into your neck.
“Me too, baby.” You whine, kissing the top of his head, “please cum for me, Bradley.”
Your words were all Bradley needed to reach his peak. His hips stutter against yours as he spurts into the condom and the feeling combined with your fast swirls against your clit shoots white hot pleasure through you, pushing you over the precipice as well.
Bradley is a panting mess above you, his skin sticking to yours with sweat. He pulls out of you slowly and ties off the condom. When he flops down next to you, you kiss all over his face, squealing when he grabs your face and smushes your lips together. He pulls away from you and stares at you in your sweaty post sex glow and smiles.
You catch his eyes and hum, “you’re so pretty, Bradley.”
His lips quirk as he reaches to stroke his thumb over you cheek.
“I’ve not heard that one before.”
Bradley eventually ventures downstairs to retrieve you a glass of water and makes eye contact with Reuben as he goes to ascend the stairs again.
Reuben flips him the bird without looking, “you’re fucking loud bro.”
Bradley can’t find it in himself to care.
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No one is more surprised on Monday morning than Professor Clarke when he sees you walk into his lecture hall with Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your waist, your usual large tote bag now slung over his shoulder.
He watches in amusement for the hour as you note diligently and raise you hand as usual, however there was now the addition of Bradley. Pointing at your notes when he wanted something explaining or whispering something in your ear after you made a good point that makes you smile.
Professor Clarke finds it sweet, albeit slightly confusing considering the tension that surrounded the two of you when you’d been introduced.
Once your class has finished Bradley helps you pack your things up before putting your bag over his shoulder once again,
“You know I can carry my own bag?” You tease, poking at his bicep.
“Then how will everyone know you have a super strong and handsome boyfriend?” Bradley rolls his eyes playfully.
As you’re descending the stairs you spot someone walking towards you and Bradley from the corner of your eye.
“Natalie, hi.” Bradley speaks awkwardly, placing a comforting hand on your waist.
“Hi Bradley… I just wanted to apologise, I was fucking wasted on Friday and I didn’t realise you have a girlfriend and I should have read your texts properly and I’m really embarrassed to be honest,” she chuckles out awkwardly.
You smile at the girl, sensing her guiltiness. You look to Bradley who has a small smile on his face as well.
“It’s cool,” Bradley speaks truthfully.
She nods and sends you another apologetic smile before making her own exit from the classroom.
Once she’s out of earshot you turn to Bradley,“That was nice of her,”
Bradley nods and threads his hand in yours, leading you down the rest of the stairs. As you walk past Professor Clarke’s desk he calls out your name. He gestures down to where you’re holding hands with Bradley and jests,
“I’ll admit this was the last outcome I was expecting when I asked you to tutor Bradley here.”
You can feel Bradley’s smirk from next to you and roll your eyes, “He’s not so bad.”
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a/n: HERE SHE IS LADIES AND GENTS!!!!! fratboy!brad and his angel 😭😭😭
my apologies for how sucky he gets BUT HE MAKES UP FOR IT PROMISE
also apologies for making him deck bob LMFAO
as always i love to hear feedback so pls comment, reblog or send me an ask and tell me what you think!
thank u for reading!!!
- honey <333
4K notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 6 months
Text
when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home
Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader
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summary: Spending Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia isn’t ideal. Javier knows you’re missing home a little harder than usual, so he comes up with a plan to cheer you up.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. minor deviation from canon timeline (had to make it work), reader is an agent for the DEA, NO AGE SPECIED, NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, reader understands and speaks spanish but no mention of her race or ethnicity, friends to lovers trope, reader celebrates christmas, reader has a good relationship with her family, minor smoking and alcohol consumption (both reader and javi), reader’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes. fluff, soft javi, he’s a bit of a grinch in the beginning though. switches in pov’s and tenses.
*ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS AT THE END.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: thank you to @hellishjoel for inviting me to join in on this fun project!
12 Days of Pedro Masterlist
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Javier Peña doesn’t do Christmas.
He especially doesn’t do Christmas in Bogotá.
He doesn’t see the point even acknowledging it.
There are more important things on his mind.
Capturing Pablo Escobar.
Dismantling the dangerous Medellín Cartel.
Living long enough to tell the fucking tale.
Those were his priorities while in Colombia.
Not decking the halls with boughs of holly.
And yet, there he is, fighting with a string of bright and colorful lights, wishing these things would put themselves on the tree. “Puta madre,” Javi curses underneath his breath as he tries untangling them from around his waist. Somehow, he only makes it worse. He grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous—it shouldn’t be this fucking hard throwing lights on a goddamn fucking tree—” He pauses, spins around to find where he’d gone wrong and then continues grouching to himself. “Can’t believe people do this fucking shit for fun. Stupidest thing I’ve ever—”
Javi manages to free himself and glances down at his watch to see he’s running out of time—it’s past five now, and unless Messina’s in one of those bad fucking moods of hers and decides to dump some last minute paperwork onto your desk, then you’re going to be walking through the front door soon.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh.
He’d been an idiot to decline Connie’s offer to help him when she had dropped off the decorations for him earlier that afternoon.
“You sure you don’t need my help?” she had asked as she handed him the cardboard box overflowing with festive ornaments and tinsel. “I have a couple of more hours before I have to be at the clinic, you know. I can help you set it all up for her, make it all nice and pretty.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled,” he’d replied. “I’m sure it won’t take me too long to put some—is this fucking fruit?” Confused, Javi shifted the box over to his hip, pulling out a string of dried oranges and red cranberries. “Um, what the hell is this for? This supposed to be a snack for me while I decorate?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a homemade garland.”
“It’s a homemade what now?”
“Garland, Javier. It goes on the tree.”
Amused, he’d raised an eyebrow at her.
“Fruit going back onto the tree? That’s ironic.”
Sighing, Connie rolled her eyes at him once more.
“Last chance. Do you want my help or not, Javi?”
“I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ve got it handled.”
She’d shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself, then.”
Little did he know how he’d regret his decision. It’s a bigger headache than he thought it would be, an incredible waste of valuable time he could’ve been using to hunt down new leads, do the job he came here to do and find Pablo Escobar. Then again, the more he thinks about it, the more Javi realizes this isn’t a waste of his time at all—not really.
Because he’s doing this for you.
Because he knows you love Christmas.
Because he knows you’ve been feeling homesick.
The season you normally adored was bringing you nothing but emptiness this year. There is a void—a hole in your heart that only your family could fill.
“Messina denied my request for time off,” you had told him, taking a drag of his cigarette—you’re not much of a smoker, but he’d learned that tended to change on occasion when you were upset. “Said it isn’t fair to let me go home for Christmas. That I’m not the only one who wants to be with their family. And I get it. I do.” Sighing, you took a second drag and then handed the cigarette back to Javier; he’d put it between his lips, the taste of cherry flavored lip gloss that lingered on the filtered tip prompting a craving stronger than his craving for nicotine. “It was selfish of me to even think of taking time off. I just—I miss spending Christmas in my hometown, you know? Waking up to snow outside my window in the mornings. Building snowmen with my sister, hurling snowballs at my brother. I miss my mother and her cooking. I miss my father and how even at our age, he still insists on pretending to be Santa.”
Laughing, Javier leaned forward on his stool.
You’d asked him to meet you at your usual spot—a quiet lounge bar right around the corner from your apartment. When he walked in and saw the scotch in front of you on the table, he’d known something was wrong. You’re not much of a drinker, either.
“Does he eat the cookies and drink the milk too?”
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, a little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. He tried not to let his gaze longer there too long—he’s just one man. There was only so much strength he could muster to keep fighting the temptation.
“Of course. He takes his role very, very seriously.”
Despite your smile, he’d noticed it right away.
The unmistakable sadness in your eyes.
You were tough as fucking nails.
In this line of work, you had no choice but to be.
But Javier knew your family was your weakness.
His weakness?
His weakness was sitting there in front of him with a crestfallen expression on her pretty face, tracing around the rim of her glass with her finger.
“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Your voice had thickened, the emotions you’re used to bottling up threatening to boil over.
“Of course not,” he assured you. “There is nothing stupid about wanting to go back home to see your family. There’s nothing stupid about wanting to be with them for the holidays. I promise you that.”
You snorted. “Peña, we’re trying to bring down the most dangerous man in all of South America. Last thing I need to be doing right now is dreaming of a white Christmas. It’s fucking stupid, alright?”
Hesitantly, Javier lifted his hand and placed it over yours—it wasn’t the first time he’d ever held it, not the first time he had shown physical affection, but this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and he didn’t want to make things worse. Once he realized it was okay, he brushed the back of it with his thumb softly, soothingly.
“Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño.”
“No hay caso para eso, Javier.”
“Maybe I can convince her to let you go. She’s got me and she’s got Murphy. We’ll handle things here while you head home for a few days, spend a week with your family for Christmas. Doesn’t hurt to try, you know.” Javi squeezed your hand. Knowing just how fucking stubborn you could be, he insisted on it. “Por favor, cielo. Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. Dejame ayudarte.”
You drained the rest of your scotch and swallowed it along with the lump that had climbed it’s way up your throat. Setting the glass back down, you then pulled your hand out from under his and stood up.
“Forget it. I’m here because I have a job to do—we both have a job to do. I’ll get over it, Javier. Always do.”
Before he could say another word, you’d picked up your jacket and purse, making a quick dash for the exit before he could see the stubborn tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and down the side of your face. But he had seen it, and that’s exactly why he knew he had to do something for you.
About an hour later, Javi places a glittering star on top of the white spruce and then takes a couple of steps back, hands on his hips. Cocking his head to the side, he observes the tree and makes sure that he hasn’t left a single spot bare. He decides to add more gold tinsel until he feels oddly satisfied—and once he is, he pulls out his pocket knife, using it to open the small sized box he had brought with him; two different addresses were scribbled on the side of it in your mother’s handwriting, his apartment’s address the destination, her address the return.
“I wrapped it well,” she’d said over the phone. “It’s her most prized possession, so I really hope it gets to you in one piece or she’s going to kill us both.”
Javier slowly unwraps the object inside and feels a wave of complete and utter relief wash over him to see it made it through customs without breaking.
He squints, taking a better look at the ornament.
The little blonde ballerina is made of porcelain and holds a nutcracker soldier in her arms—the skirt of her dress is white lace embroidered with teeny red rosettes that perfectly match the blush painted on her cheeks and the color of the bow in her hair.
“It’s Clara,” your mother had explained to him.
“Who?” he’d asked, stupidly.
“Clara. You know, from The Nutcracker?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he’d fibbed. “Clara. Got it.”
He had no clue what she had been talking about—but if it’s special to you, then it’s special to him.
Carefully, Javi hangs it on tree just as he hears the front door open and then slam shut so hard that it causes the paper thin walls of your unit to rattle.
“Peña!” you shout loudly. “You fucking asshole!”
Lip rolling between his teeth, he stifles a laugh.
You must have seen his Wrangler parked outside.
Grinning, Javier steps out into the hallway to greet you. “Hola, hermosa. Bienvenida a casa.”
“So, let me get this straight,” you say, tossing your purse and unit keys onto a nearby table. “You offer to give me ride to and from work but then proceed to ditch me and leave work three hours early—you leave me with no other fucking choice but to call a cab to bring me home and when he drops me off, I see your fucking car outside of my apartment?”
Rubbing his chin, he hums, “Sounds about right.”
You approach him, your hands curled into fists.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Javier?”
Javi’s quick to hold up his own hands in defense.
He won’t put it past you to knock him out—he and Murphy have seen you bring down men twice your size before without a weapon. Neither of them can decide if it’s hot as hell or downright terrifying.
“Okay, put those away and let me explain,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry I did that to you, but I did it for a reason.”
You scoff, “Well, if that reason was to piss me off, I have some news for you—it fucking worked.”
“That wasn’t the reason. Not this time, anyway.”
Chuckling, Javier extends a hand, holding it out to you.
You peer at it. “What are you doing, Peña?”
“Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti.”
Suspiciously, you ask him, “What did you do?”
He laughs again. He knew it wouldn’t make it easy for him. “You do know how surprises work, right?”
You lift your chin. “I do and I don’t like surprises.”
“I know you don’t, but I think you’ll like this one.”
Javi continues to hold out his hand and waits.
He’s just as stubborn as you are, if not more.
“We can stand here all fucking night, corazón.”
Sighing in defeat, you place your hand in his, heart skipping a beat when he smiles and laces together your fingers with his own.
“Cierra tus ojos.”
“Javier, I don’t want—”
He quickly cuts you off. “Do you trust me?”
Of course. Hell, you trusted him with your life.
And not just because it’s a job requirement.
Huffing, you do as he says and close your eyes.
“Good.” Javier places his other hand on your waist and his fingers brush against the patch of smooth, soft skin peeking out from between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. Ignoring his burning desire to feel more of you, he leads the way into the living room and positions you in front of the tree. Without dropping your hand, he moves to stand directly behind you, chest pressed lightly against your back.“Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita.”
“Look Peña, I don’t know what you’re up to but—”
Your own startled gasp cuts you off mid sentence.
Squeezing your hand, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and you can feel his grin as he whispers, “Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parece?”
You open your mouth to speak, then clamp it shut.
His surprise had left you speechless.
Pleased with himself, Javi nudges you towards the tree and then drops his hands down at his sides as he watches you gingerly touch the needles.
Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, the delicious, woodsy smell of pine reminding you of your family and how you’d all pile into your father’s old pickup truck and head to the Christmas Tree Farm to find the perfect white spruce to take home. Your father took great care in the picking process—he wanted the tallest, fluffiest, most fragrant tree. “Need this place to smell like the farm!” he’d boom. You smile and can’t help but to think he’d approve of Javi—if not because of what he had done for you, then the choice in tree would be enough to win him over.
“Do you like it?” he asks, softly.
You open your eyes and whirl around. “Javi, I can’t believe you did this,” you say, breathlessly. Smiling brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, you throw your arms around him. “I love it so much!”
He savors the embrace—and wonders if you know just how perfectly you fit right in his arms.
“There’s one more surprise,” Javier informs you as he spins you around to look at the tree once again. “Do you see it?”
“See what?” Peering at the tree, you frown. “What am I supposed to be looking for—wait a second, is that—is that Clara?” Your hand flies to your mouth and you look up at him in complete shock. “That’s the ornament my grandmother made for me when I was a baby! I’ve had her since my first Christmas. How did you—?”
“Santa no cuenta sus secretos.” Javi grins, pulling you closer against his side. “But if you must know, your mom sent it to me,” he confesses. “Actually, I have to be honest—this whole thing was her idea.”
Perplexed, you ask, “This was my mom’s idea?”
“I know you’ve been having a hard time being here during the holidays instead of with your family,” he says. “I called her up a couple of weeks ago, asked her what I could do for you. We started talking and came up with this.” He shrugs and touches a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I know it’s not the same as going home. But I thought it might be nice to bring a little piece of home here to you.”
Warmth blossoms inside of your chest as you turn to face him. You place a hand on his chest. “Javi?”
Nervously, his throat bobs. “Yeah?”
“Why did you do this for me?”
Javier lifts his hand and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told you. I just want to see you happy.”
“But why?”
You know why.
But you need to hear him say it.
You need to hear it from his own mouth.
Javi’s hand moves to cup the side of your face. “Is it not obvious?” he murmurs as he grazes the silky soft skin over your cheekbone. “Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientas igual.”
“How do you know I don’t feel the same for you?”
“Do you?” His thumb sweeps your bottom lip. “Do you feel the same for me?”
Your hand curls around his red plaid flannel.
“I shouldn’t,” you admit. “We’re work partners.”
He feigns offense. “Ouch. And here I was, thinking we were friends.” He now takes your chin between his index finger and his thumb. Licking his lips, his eyes meet yours. “Breaking my heart, baby.”
Your breath audibly catches. “We are friends—and it scares me to put our friendship on the line.”
“But?” he prompts as he tilts your head up toward his. His opposite hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him.
“But when you do things like this—it’s hard for me not to fucking fall in love with you, Peña.” You drag your hand down his chest, your fingers relishing in the softness of his flannel. “It’s so fucking hard for me not to fall in love with somebody who feels like home.”
Javier’s chuckles softly.
“For the record, this wasn’t a ploy to get you to fall in love with me, corazón. But if it worked—” Javier pauses, dropping his hand from your face. “Then I guess it’s worth pulling this thing out.”
He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans.
“Javi, what the hell are you—?”
He grins, holding the mistletoe above your heads.
“Connie said this might come in handy.”
Your eyes flicker to his lips, then meet his gaze.
“Ven aqui, Peña.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull Javi in and crash your mouth against his. You brush his bottom lip with your tongue and he grants you the access you’re looking for. He tastes like spearmint and scotch, and something else too.
He tastes like yours.
And he feels like home.
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diver credit to @saradika-graphics ❤️
Translations
Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño. - I’ll talk to Messina, darling.
No hay caso para eso, Javier. - There’s no point, Javier.
Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. - Let me help you with this. I just want to see you happy.
Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti. - Come with me, I have a surprise for you.
Cierra tus ojos. - Close your eyes.
Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita. - You can open your eyes, pretty girl.
Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parch? - Surprise, precious girl. You have a Christmas tree. What do you think?
Santa no cuenta sus secretos. - Santa doesn’t tell his secrets.
Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientes igual. - You know all too well I have feelings for you. Even if you don’t feel the same.
Ven aqui, Peña. - Come here, Peña.
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c4qwp · 5 months
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felix catton x fem!reader
| he falls hard for you
📎 tags : fluff, female reader, felix being older than you by a year, fanon of felix bc i’m such a bad writer guys, bad orthography, (my first post…), felix being a fucking cutie patootie, (y/n) not mentioned
📎 words count : oof idk but not a lot 💀🔥🔥🔥😜😜😜
📎 author's note : this is my first post (so first story), don’t hesitate to comment to help me to progress! english isn’t my first language, idk if felix is fanon but i tried my best to write him like i how i see him
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felix was a charming, flirty, wealthy and captivating man. everyone loved him. everyone wanted to be around him. it exhausted him. people just wouldn't leave him alone. especially the girls. but he didn’t care about them, you were the exception.
you've only known felix for 6 months, but that hasn't stopped you from liking each other's personalities —and physiques. you're a new student from california studying at oxford, and the handsome british guy hasn't stopped coming to see you to find out more about you.
it all started with a laugh he heard in the hallway. a cute one he thought. and that's how he first saw you.
"hello?" you called loudly when you noticed eyes on you.
the sunlight illuminated felix perfectly as he met your gaze. you were just too cute. your doe eyes watching him while scanning him up and down due to his height.
"hey sorry- ive never seen you here before, are you new?" he asked.
as you were telling your friend to wait for you, an other guy appeared besides the stranger.
"felix where the fuck have you been mate??" a man with curly hair said.
"dude i’m busy let’s talk later" felix replied.
"hey sor-"
and you were gone.
felix didn’t even catch your name and it disappointed him. he likes to meet new people, even more when they’re cute like you.
a month passed after this rather short meeting. as you were revising in the library, a voice called out to you.
"oh hey arent you the new student?"
felix. you heard about him, only good thingd though. you’ve met him but his — pretty face, made you speechless. you felt shy in front of him. now there you are, sitting like an idiot and saying nothing. gosh.
"oh — uhmm hey!" you relied a bit nervously.
"hey! sorry i think we'd met before but hadn't talked more" he said.
"yes i remember." you introduced yourself and smiled.
"i’m felix catton nice to meet you as well" he smiled in turn.
"yeahh i heard about you, felix" you smirked and closed your book.
"oh yeah? i hope you've heard good things about me haha" he said.
"mmhh who knows?" you teased him.
while there was a small blank, he glimpsed your book.
"wait aint no way you’re reading harry potter?!" he said, trying to whisper as much as possible so as not to disturb the other students.
"way. i really like reading books. they're better than movies. and this is not the first time that i’m reading it." you replied.
"it’s my favorite book and it feels good to meet someone who thinks the same about it." he said with a big smile on his face.
it was getting late and you had to get back to your dorm to phone your best friend, who unfortunately wasn't at the same university as you. you exchanged phone numbers and then left.
one day.
one fucking day.
you two were apart for only a day. he sent you the first message and you answered them. he couldn't stop thinking about your smile, your eyes and your voice. it was the same for you.
even though you'd only been messaging each other for 2 weeks, he asked you if you wanted to go out somewhere. of course, you agreed and offered to go for a coffee to take a break from studying.
you put on a beautiful white summer dress that showed off your body.
‘i hope i’m not overdoing it...’ you thought.
03:17PM
"i’m so sorry for being late—…" you whispered to the man with a glass of soda against his lips, letting him know you were tired and done with the conversation. your eyes sparkling with joy, your lips curling up into a gleeful smile when you locked eyes with the person you had been craving to see all evening. he hadn't missed one night, not a single one. he was right on time. right there to stay with you, make you feel comfortable, talk to you all night.
you'd laugh, he'd watch.
he'd talk, you'd listen.
"no no don’t wo—" as he turned to answer you, he was stunned by your beauty.
his eyes wandered up and down your face. you noticed him and smiled at him.
‘i hate the way you make me feel — my chest begin to tighten when my eyes lock onto yours, yet i find it merely impossible to look away.’
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theealbatross · 21 days
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Sebastian x Reader: i love you, it's ruining my life (One Shot)
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Plot: Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him. Tags: none, fluff, slytherin!reader, bad english accent attempt by me, repressed feelings, unhealthy attachment, codependency, teenagers trying to process trauma together, mentions of nightmares, they are both 17 years old [A/N: FUCK JK ROWLING!!!!!!! Also I just needed to write something and somehow a depressed Slytherin boy was just the one to cure my insane writer's block. Enjoy!]
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I am not dating Sebastian Sallow, is what you kept saying yet no one seems to ever believe you. Even Natty, bless her kind soul, gave you a look so incredulous as the words went out of your mouth that you couldn’t help but be confused yourself -- were you dating Sebastian?
“I’m not trying to be nosy, my friend. I’m just concerned.”
“About what?” This has been the third person this month with that same irritating expression on their face. Pity.
“I thought … you were always together that I just assumed there was … something.”
You blinked, trying not to let your face slip, afraid that your ever observant friend would read too much into each emotion.
“Well, there’s nothing. So you and the others can –”
“There are others?!”
You widened her eyes, telling Natty to drop it and she wisely did. “The rest of you can stop reporting his rendezvous to me. Understood?”
“There you are!”
Merlin, will the cruel gods of fate ever give you a break?
The deep voice from the door cut through half of the conversations in your table as Sebastian jogged towards you. “Morning, pet.”
He casually grabbed your head gently, pressing a kiss on top of it, before settling down by straddling the chair so he was facing you. “Hey Natty, got lost?”
It wasn’t unheard of for students to not stick to the assigned tables on their houses but it was still odd, especially for someone like Natty who much preferred the company of like-minded people. Always said that the quiet and whispers in the Slytherin table made her uneasy.
Natty looked from you, to him, to the arms that was hidden under the table but was no doubt placed on your waist, subtly but insistently pulling you closer. You silently pleaded for her to ignore it which she thankfully did with a sigh.
“Not at all, Sebastian. Just trying to keep our friend company before you undoubtedly steal her away for the day.”
He didn’t even pretend to be offended by the accusation, only chuckling good-heartedly. “You can be welcome to tag along just for today.”
“Wouldn’t want to intrude. And with the trouble the two of you get into I’d be grounded by my mother for the rest of my life.”
The three of them laughed at that. The conversation thankfully flowing easier and away from the initial topic. Once Ominis arrived and Poppy was called over it was like fifth-year again. The initial circle you had formed has always been a source of comfort, no longer having to have your guard up all the time especially as easy conversation flowed between each other.
“I got some new books for you, just got delivered an hour ago. We should read it tonight.”
You fed him a piece of bread in your hands, knowing that his growing appetite has not been satiated by the plate he made for himself but he would be too lazy to make a new one and would just rather take bits and pieces from your own. “Just for me, huh?”
He grabbed a tuft of grapes before feeding you one as well before he demolished the entire thing. You couldn’t help but giggle when he spat out a small branch that managed to sneak into his mouth.
“It’s that new muggle series you love, paid off one of Ominis’ servant to line for it so you wouldn’t have to sneak out of Hogwarts like I know you had planned to tonight.”
You could feel your face heating up at the fact that he knew you too damn well. “You know I don’t like you spending money on me, Sebastian.”
“Well, you’re gonna be reading it to me so technically I’m spending money for me.”
You gave him a look but he quickly evaded it by feeding you another pair of grapes.
Sebastian had been haunted by nightmares after last year’s events. Ones so bad that the nurse feared he would be a bit too dependent on sleeping potions at such a young age. Thankfully, the two of you had found a solution together, after a late night studying in the Undercroft reading your notes aloud hoping it would stick into your head a bit better – you had turned to find your companion snoring away beside you.
At first, the two of you thought it was the history lesson that put him right to slumber so you borrowed tons of history books in the library for him to read before he slept but an enchanted note later and you were dragging your sleepy self and a blanket out of your chambers as you read about the History of Magic in his bed.
It was that night that you had been eternally grateful that he had no other roommate but Ominis. Especially when you found out that Sebastian was apparently a horrible koala when asleep.
“That’s just –”
“What are you two whispering about?”
You actually jumped, pushing Sebastian away as if the soft voice behind them reminded you of how they had actually drifted closer than what was appropriate.
“Arieta,” Sebastian greeted her with a raised brow, seemingly confused why the Ravenclaw was this far off the room not even all that affected that his new girlfriend just caught him being a bit too comfortable with another girl.
“Sebby!” she shrieked prettily, quickly recovering and pulling on his arm. “We have History of Magic together, remember? You know I can’t survive that class without your shoulder to sleep on.”
She can hear Ominis choke on a laugh yet Arieta shot you a look like it was your fault.
“I, uh,” Sebastian turned to your table, now fully aware that everyone was staring at him with various expression on their faces. “Right, let’s go.”
Ever the gentleman, Sebastian was quick to grab the books in Arieta’s arm as she held on to his hand and dragged him towards the doors.
“Arieta, huh, wouldn’t have pegged her as territorial one,” Natty chuckled, you chucked a grape at her. “What? I am only speaking my mind. Might have to watch out for that one or she might just drag poor Sebastian away from –”
Just before she finished her sentence Sebastian came bounding down the path once again stopping just beside you, catching his breath. “Hey, you’re mine tonight, okay? No adventures.”
His wording left so much to be misinterpreted that even Poppy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, damn near resembling those mooncalfs she loves so much.
"I stand corrected," Natty muttered.
“Sebby!” Arieta screamed at the end of the hallway.
Merlin’s beard.
“I’m coming!” He threw her an impatient look before holding on to your chin so you were looking at him and forcing you to nod. “No adventures.”
This time the embarrassment of the absolute mess that was unfolding before your unfinished breakfast have overwhelmed your brain that you could only nod with him.
“No adventures.”
Sebastian smiled, one of those real, bright ones that makes your body malfunction and your heart to stop beating. Pressing one last kiss on the top of your head and managing to wave to your shared friends he was off and gone through the double doors.
The entire table was left in silence and you had hoped they would let this go but Natty couldn’t give you that mercy as she cleared her throat.
“Well, now I got even more questions.”
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You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow you just think about him a lot.
You weren’t as daft as the rest of them have probably assumed. You did think there was a lot more than friendship between Sebastian and you. But with all the things that the two of you had been through it was difficult to pinpoint what it exactly was aside from their unusually intense loyalty to each other.
Was it a trauma bond? Was it just their kindred spirits refusing to let the one soul who understood them go? Did everything that they went through, the secrets they keep, the curses they threw to protect each other become the bloody ribbon that held the unhealthy attachment they had to each other? It could be love. But it could be a whole lot more complicated than that.
That’s what they were. They were complicated.
After the nightmare that was your fifth year the two of you had kept to yourselves with Ominis in tow, trying to keep as low as profile as possible and give your poor professors a break. With your newfound infamy as the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ (blergh) and the dark secret you three were desperately keeping for Sebastian, the best you could hope for was to blend in with the rest of the nameless students in Hogwarts.
That agreement got shot into hell when your dear friend Sebastian Sallow proved to be one of the best beaters in Hogwarts’ long, long history. It was a dare that exploded in your own face to try out and irritate Imelda but when he had accidentally proven to be a bit too good at it their mutual friend clutched at him with her demanding claws and put him through the ringer until he got spat out decent enough to be one of the soldiers to secure the honor of their noble house and win the Quidditch cup this year.
Piled on top of that development was his connection to the Gaunt family, the Hero of Hogwarts, and the rumor of his hefty trust fund waiting for him the moment he turns 18 – Sebastian Sallow, just as the gods intended, became the most eligible bachelor of his age.
And thus your hell begun.
The silent charm he always had with him grew with his stature. He clearly enjoyed the attention after having hid his pretty bloody face behind dangerous books all year last year that it was almost like he was compensating for the hearts he could’ve broken. Every moon it was a different girl looped around his arms and every month it was a different friend reporting to you that your presumed ‘boyfriend’ was found snogging a goddamn Gryffindor in the Three Broomsticks.
It was annoying, confusing, and you were getting sick of it.
“Over here.”
Before you could find the source of the voice you knew all too well, a door had already opened and you were quickly pulled into an empty room – well, room was being generous as it was more of a storage space than anything.
“Sebastian!”
“Shh,” you gawked when his opened palm muffled your voice as he firmly presses it on your mouth. The unmistakable sounds of footsteps and a softer call of his name echoed the hallway outside the door. When the footsteps faded and disappeared, he had the nerve to give you a lopsided grin that turned your face red in irritation. Definitely in irritation.
Nothing quite like being forced to face the boy who had been running around your head all day.
“Sorry bout that, pet,” he chuckled, leaning on the wall an arms-length way from you. “I’m not too good with break-ups, especially when they say no.”
“Must be horrifying,” you sniped shortly, also pressing your back on the nearest wall to give you as much space as possible – it would just be absolutely mortifying to faint because your heart was beating too fast it was like it was trying to escape. “Are you gonna explain why you’ve kidnapped me in this dingy room?”
“Come on now, don’t be short with me. I just wanted to hang out with you ‘s all.”
“You want to hang out with me …. Inside a closet?”
He shrugged, “I never see you anymore these days.”
Ah, the nightmares must be back. She tries to swallow down the bitter taste in her mouth.
“That’s not my fault, Sebastian.”
At least he looked guilty. And absolutely miserable.
In the few weeks you had taken your eyes off him it would seem he had another growth spurt. Do boys just not stop growing ever? Looking up at him was starting to get painful. Plus, all those drills they run to prepare for every game had done nothing but well for his physique. You couldn’t help but run your eyes to his broad chest and shoulders before you caught yourself and nearly screamed in horror.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” Rough hands grabbed one of yours. He bent his knees so he could look in your eyes as you now outright refuse to meet his, in anger for the absolute shit friend he had been the past months or in embarrassment that you so casually checked him out you’re not quite sure. “I … I got distracted but I missed you. You know I prefer your company over any other.”
Those damned brown eyes, not even the poor light in the windowless room could dull its effect on you. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
Your harsh words did not match with the growing smile on your face you failed to suppress. He mirrored your grin, “Do you still have classes?”
You shook your head.
He damn near vibrated in glee. Merlin, you did miss him.
“Let me steal you away.”
In a flash, Sebastian grabbed a hold of your hand to survey the hall one last time before dragging you out of the room and into the nearest Floo. You barely caught the surprise and anger in his ex-girlfriend’s eyes as she gawked by the stairs before you got swallowed up by a green flash of powder.
“Boathouse.”
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You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow because this is definitely not a date.
You wouldn’t think the Boathouse would be a romantic place but with the lack of students, the dimming sun and a gorgeous boy leading you in the inside of it for privacy – you couldn’t help but think that anyone who would pass by would be well within their right to think you had become another notch in Sebastian Sallow’s belt.
You’re not sure how you feel about that. A greater witch would’ve been offended but maybe you’re no better than the knots in his belt.
“Sit here.”
Sebastian spread out a worn-out black robe on the ground, patting on it expectantly. Before you could do it yourself, he was already kneeling beside you and removing your shoes and socks. The intimate act forced you to hold your breath, making sure you controlled your face so your jaw doesn’t fall to the floor as he slowly pulled on your socks, gently plopping them on the edge and letting the Black Lake’s water tickle your feet as they dangled.
When you were settled, he nonchalantly laid his head down on your lap. Gods, help you.
“Comfortable, aren’t you?”
He made a dramatic noise of satisfaction, even wiggling in your lap to show his assent. A giggle slipped out of your mouth at the absolute gall of him, your hands naturally falling in his soft, thick, brown hair to play with it.
“What had you been up to, pet?” he mumbles, eyes never leaving your face although you find yourself unable to do the same as you opted to look around the architecture of the Boathouse you rarely visit.
“Nothing much,” you shrugged. “Although I did find that swimming in the Forbidden Forest’s Lake was surprisingly relaxing.”
He hummed, not even surprised at your little antics when you leave his line of sight. The boy had definitely pulled you out of worse situations than roaming around the Forbidden Forest. “You should take me some time. Merlin knows relaxing is what I need.”
A scoff escaped your mouth as you rolled your eyes.
“Yeah, right after I duel your newest girlfriend for the honor of getting to take you out.”
He poked your side at that, “As entertaining that would be you know all you have to do is send me an owl and I’d trek up to Maurenweem for you.”
Your face clearly showed you didn't believe him and he frowned. Carefully, you ran a finger in-between his brows where a frown formed to relax it.
At this angle you could see the toll the sleepless nights he must’ve been having had on him. If the bags on his eyes was any indication it must’ve been a few nights now. You ran your hands on his hair earning you a satisfied hum as he dangled his hand on the edge of the ledge to play with the water below.
“When was the last time you slept?”
He popped one eye open but your gentle touch proved too much as he closed it again with an even longer hum. “A few hours last night.”
“You should’ve woken me up.”
He gently shook his head, grabbing your free hand so he can hold it by his stomach.
“I didn’t wanna bother you.”
“Oh please, Sebastian.”
He chuckled at that, gripping on your hand tightly as he let out a heavy breath. “The nightmares … I thought it’s been better. Barely had any a few months ago. But now it’s just gotten worse.”
The confession broke your heart. Sebastian was not a vulnerable person; despite his usually easy and cheerful demeanor he was quick to wall himself in at the first sign of trouble. You would bet galleons of gold he still feels horrible of all the things he put you through and it was truly in desperation when he had called you over to help him through his insomnia. Which was also why you had welcomed the responsibility with open arms.
“Care to tell? Is it still about Anne?”
His estranged twin has been forefront of most of his darkest nightmares but he shook his head again and for that you were thankful he was spared that at least. “Solomon? Ominis?”
He opened his eyes; it was full of overflowing guilt and fear. And when it seemed he could no longer keep it to himself he sighed, “It’s about you. That’s the reason why I couldn’t …”
The revelation had your blood freezing. “What?”
He sat up, now facing you and taking both of your hands. “I’m only telling you this because you are my best friend and to remind you that none of this is ever your fault. You haven’t done a thing wrong, in fact, I can’t think how I would’ve gotten past any of this if it wasn’t for you.”
You held on to his hands tighter. “Sebastian, you’re scaring me.”
He shook his head, pulling you closer as if to comfort. Why was he comforting you when it was him who had been terrorized by this dream version of you. It was irrational to be mad but how could you not be when apparently you had become one of his problems while you were simultaneously desperately trying to fix it.
A palm on your cheeks pulled you out of your self-loathing.
“All of my dreams … it was of the people I love leaving me. Anne never forgiving me for the rest of my life, Ominis turning me in …”
“Oh, Sebastian,” you buried a sob on the crook of his neck, your hand roping around his back so you can rub on his back comfortingly while he lets everything out.
“And … and every time it happens my brain drives itself insane thinking of plans of what I would do if those nightmares came true. That’s the reason why I couldn’t sleep.” You looked up at him through your lashes but never leaving your spot even as he brings your legs out of the water and over his until you were in his lap.
“But then … they turned to you.” His voice dropped so low you almost shivered. “And for the life of me I just couldn’t … see an out of that. If I lost you – If you gave up on me I … I think I’d turn myself in Azkaban myself.”
“Sebastian I would never –”
“I know that,” he whispered. “But I still can’t – I can’t let it go. I can’t let go of these doubts and fear.”
This time he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “That’s why I keep hanging out with all those girls.”
You raised your head in confusion, taking a better look at him.
“I thought if I loved you less, my nightmares would be kinder.”
The breath got caught in your throat. What is he – does he mean –
“But I couldn’t do that either,” He sighed, rubbing a hand on his face, clearly frustrated. “So I’ve decided. I’d rather go insane, let the nightmares do their worst because I am done pretending I don’t love you. I’m done avoiding you, I’m done pretending you aren’t the only light in my life. I’m done. And I love you.”
A fully grown crying Mandrake could drop from the sky and you don’t think you would’ve heard it over your own heart. You could barely comprehend anything but that his grip on your waist was so tight it was almost painful and that his pleading, terrified eyes was in the perfect angle that the late dying sun made it look like it was in a golden fire.
And that Sebastian Sallow … is in love with you. Just as madly as you were with him.
“I’m not forcing you into anything. I needed to let it out. If you want, I fully intend to formally court you until –”
“I love you.” You could no longer bear to put him in such misery. As long as you were alive, he would not question the adoration you’ve felt for him that just kept growing since the first day he had taken you to Hogsmeade. “I love you, Sebastian.”
Just for a moment there was quiet then he burst out laughing. “Thank you, darling." His body visibly shuddered as he sighed in relief, burying his face in your chest. "I’ve already planned to throw myself off the highest cliff in Hogwarts if this had gone south.”
You wrapped your hands around his neck, accepting the gentlest kisses on your neck. “Don’t say that. I plan to be your girlfriend for a very long time.”
His body shook from laughing, this time a kiss under your jaw, “Not that long I hope?”
You frowned, pulling away from him, though his unrelenting hold prevented much space to be in between the two of you. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” his thumbs rubbed circles on your thigh, now seemingly shy. “If all goes well, I had hoped to be engaged by the time we graduate. You won’t be just my girlfriend then.”
"You bastard," You gawked, laughing at his proclamation. The happiness was overflowing in your chest that you couldn’t help but just squeeze him into you hoping maybe that your souls would fuse with each other.  “You haven’t even kissed me yet and you’re already pre-proposing?”
He licked his lips, his sleepless eyes now full of vigor. “Ah, we gotta fix that, don’t we, pet?”
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“We’re dating.”
Natty sighed in relief.
Poppy clapped.
Garreth passed Imelda a silver coin.
"Excuse me," Ominis muttered, standing up. “I'm gonna request a room change to the Headmaster.”
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yongility · 1 month
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NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 3/?
genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.
warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.
word count: +10k?
a/n: I’m sorry this took too long to post!! 😭😭 but I been so busy with college rn, I’m going to graduate this year so I’m like having a lot of work lately, and I wasn’t satisfied with what I was writing so that was the reason it took longer than expected, sorry!
I'm a sucker for cliche stuff so as soon as this fic popped in my mind l had to write it down, english isn't my first language tho.
I'm sorry if this is too long TT, but this is kinda a slowburn? it might contain a lot of parts so wait for part 3! One of the reasons this is long af it's because I would like to show you how Jaehyun and (Y/N's life is before they get together! So pls pls don't skip anything I hope you like it!
if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!
The third day of the week arrived promptly, where (Y/N) found herself comfortably seated in one of the library chairs, with her chemistry books scattered on the table in front of her as she studied for the exams she had coming up, with Jungwoo beside her.
It was becoming her routine for the week; after last Friday's party, what she most desired was to avoid being at home, especially after having an argument with her mother when she returned from the party.
She didn't want to deal with her in a good time.
Annoyed that her mother had thought it was a great idea to take away her right to use her own car as punishment for disobeying her that night and leaving the house... staying in the library seemed the most pleasant option; with silence, able to listen to music through her AirPods, without her mother bothering her every five minutes and being able to review what she had learned in her last classes: it was something she could take advantage of. She took a sip of her vanilla latte, which had been sponsored by Jungwoo, who, in an attempt to apologize for abandoning her in that way during last Friday's party, promised to pay for each of her daily drinks for a week and a half, no matter the cost.
And even though (Y/N) could afford that or even triple, she was still happy about it. Gifted things tasted even better anyway.
Of course, she first gave Jungwoo a -no- beating after telling him everything that had happened during his absence, but still, she appreciated that her friend was okay even though she hadn't heard anything from him until Saturday night.
During these last few days, with a new routine, (Y/N) was almost always in the same places, at the same times, and if she was honest, she was surprised not to have bumped into Jung Jaehyun at any moment.
It was weird; she would normally see him somewhere around the school, either accompanied by Lucas or just sitting on one of the benches while smoking his 'n' cigarette of the day. But simply, since Friday, she hadn't heard anything from him... she hadn't even bumped into Lucas, which increased the level of strangeness, considering he was a social butterfly, he was always around. (Y/N) had been aware of her words after Jaehyun had taken her home: she could no longer continue with whatever deal they had, with all the stress of her own tasks and knowing that no matter what she did, her cousin wouldn't give up his addictions, it was best to give up.
Although it would hurt her soul to know that there was no way to help Daeho.
But thinking about it, she didn't know if she had really been sincere about each going their own way... apparently Jaehyun had taken it very seriously to not show up anywhere, and although (Y/N) knew very well that being close to him didn't bring her anything good... his presence hadn't been so bothersome in the last few days. Really, after sharing a few words and spending more time with him, she couldn't say that she disliked his existence. It was funny if you asked the (Y/N) from a month ago, there would be no way she could have imagined that, somehow, she would be related to none other than Jung Jaehyun, who, on the outside, just seemed to be one more problem.
She tried to stop thinking about it and tried to focus her gaze on the book in front of her, but after a few minutes... it was difficult for her. There was something inside her that made her feel uneasy but she couldn't think what it was.
"There’s a race in Kosmo today" her best friend's voice brought her out of her thoughts.
Kosmo was the neighborhood that was right in the middle of the city, dividing Kwangya and Neo Zone. (Y/N) knew that there were usually illegal races in that area because it was when the rich kids from Kwangya usually dared to compete against Neo Zone.
"And why should I care...?"
"Your cousin will go to bet," Jungwoo replied, interrupting her study session.
The girl opened her eyes in surprise and asked, "How do you know?"
"Daeho told Mingi, and Mingi told me," he replied simply, shrugging his shoulders. The boy fell silent for a moment and cleared his throat. "Don’t you want to go?" He asked curiously.
(Y/N) looked up from her books and observed her friend incredulously. "Why would I want to go?"
"To keep an eye on Daeho," he answered.
"I'm still mad with him, I've decided not to help him anymore. I really tried, I've been trying for the past few years, but he doesn't want help and now I understand," the girl confessed, closing her book and letting out a sigh.
"Still... don't you think it would be fun? Getting out of our comfort zone a bit... seeing what all this racing stuff is about. I've heard they're amazing," Jungwoo insisted.
"Jungwoo, my mom will kill me if she finds out I went to an illegal race," the girl continued, taking a sip of her coffee.
"She won't find out."
"Jungwoo..."
"Come on, (Y/N), we won't even be in Neo Zone, it'll be in Kwangya only. We'll go, watch the race, and leave. We won't even make contact with anyone. We'll go on our own," the boy assured her, moving closer to her. "Please, I think it would be interesting to break out of our routine, just for one night, what could go wrong?"
"Many things could go wrong, Woo," she replied.
"We won't know unless we try," he pouted, clasping his hands together. "Please."
She hated how persuasive her best friend was.
She sighed and shook her head. "Fine, but at the first sign of trouble, we're leaving without a second thought."
"I love you so much," Jungwoo replied, hugging her shoulders.
"And I really hate you."
______________________________________________
The night fell faster than she expected, and among the roar of engines and the intense music that could be heard on the outskirts of Kosmo, (Y/N) felt something cold run through her body.
She could see familiar faces here and there, some of her classmates from Kwangya were in the place, and from the opposite side, the cars and familiar faces of Neo Zone were present.
It was a strange atmosphere for her; she had always played it safe, and now she didn't even know what to think. She felt herself getting closer to Jungwoo to not lose him, the last thing she needed was for them to separate like they did at the party.
She didn't think she could survive alone.
And it's not that she was dumb to think otherwise, but her parents raised her in an environment where they made her believe that she shouldn't do things outside her daily life. (Y/N) was afraid of adventures. Her life was governed by being obedient and doing the right thing; she didn't know when the moment of rebellion she had a few days ago when she left home the night of the party had been wise.
And now finding herself in Kosmo secretly from her mother at an illegal race? She must have gone crazy.
She believed even more so that she had gone crazy when something inside her hoped to run into none other than Jung Jaehyun.
She didn't understand why the urgency of what was happening, and even less why she expected to run into Jaehyun before running into Daeho.
Maybe it was because she found it strange not to have seen him since last Friday's party.
But she knew that if there was one place Jaehyun wouldn't miss... it would be the race tonight.
"Are you looking for Daeho?" Jungwoo asked when he saw her looking around. "He's probably with Mingi."
How could she explain to her friend that the person she was looking for was none other than Jung Jaehyun?
She nodded without saying more, and they both continued on their way while cautiously observing their surroundings. The smell of marijuana and car engines was embedded in the place, the music made their ears ring, and the night breeze made their bodies tremble.
(Y/N)'s eyes drifted away when she noticed Lucas in the distance, having a conversation with another guy. Lucas felt her gaze on him and looked at the girl with confusion before approaching her after apologizing to his companion.
"Hey, Kwangya kiddos, what brings you here on this magnificent night?" Lucas asked enthusiastically.
"We wanted to know what these races are about," Jungwoo replied simply.
"Hmm, interesting," the tall guy nodded. "Well, you're in luck, Jaehyun will race today, are you sure you want to see the show? The best of the area against someone from Yellow Wood," Lucas explained while cracking his fingers slightly.
Upon hearing the guy's name, (Y/N) looked up and paid attention to Lucas's words.
"If you're interested in betting, come to me," Lucas advised.
"I think we're fine like this," said (Y/N).
"Alright, take care. I'll go look for my guy to get him ready for the race," Lucas announced as he patted Jungwoo on the back.
The guy walked away from them with a smile, and Jungwoo responded with one of his own, then he looked at his friend and frowned, "relax, you're anxious."
How could she not be?
But before she could even answer anything, a few meters away, she saw the familiar face she had been looking for. In the distance, the silhouette of Jung Jaehyun was leaning against his car while talking to a few guys from Neo Zone, his neck tattoos weren't very visible due to the darkness of the night but she could distinguish them a bit, then... as if he had called him, Jaehyun's gaze moved to connect with hers, making her freeze in place.
Jaehyun frowned when he saw her standing just a few steps away from him, looking like a lost puppy as she stood beside Jungwoo.
The sight reminded him of a month ago when Daeho had clumsily brought (Y/N) to Neo Zone. Although this time she was accompanied by her best friend, another rich and spoiled kid from Kwangya. He observed the outfit she had decided to wear, once again, just like that time, it wasn't extravagant, no famous brand could be seen in her attire, and the only piece of jewelry she wore was a pair of earrings that definitely looked like gold...
He hoped she wouldn't lose them tonight.
Because they made her look good.
The surprise was evident on the girl's face when she took a better look at the brunet's body, who was now walking towards her, wearing a hoodie with its hood over his head and as he got closer, the darkness of the night was no longer so intrusive. It hadn't been enough to hide the bruises that were scattered across his body.
There was one under his cheek, just below his left eye, and it was reddish, as if it were flushed. Then, looking at the ones between his jaw and his neck, she noticed how they subtly mixed with the ink of the tattoo he had on his neck. That one was difficult to distinguish thanks to the dark lines that adorned that part of his body, but if you paid enough attention, it was alarming.
When she lowered her gaze over his torso and then looked at his hands, she could see the intense shades of red that his knuckles contained, as if ground blood had accumulated on each of them.
It wasn't the first time she had seen Jaehyun or Lucas with a bruise or two on a school day, but it was the first time she had seen it up close.
Her heart was pounding a mile a minute. Why was it suddenly doing this?
"Did you lost your way home?" Jaehyun asked when he was in front of her.
"Jaehyun," she muttered quietly, "... are you okay?"
The girl didn't need much to realize that was the stupidest question she could ask right now, of course he wasn't okay. And although she knew this happened regularly in Jaehyun's life, she couldn't help but fill her head with doubts; what had to happen for him to end up like this?
... was that the reason he hadn't gone to school?
A small smile appeared on the boy's face, and even with the different colors decorating his face, she could still notice the dimples that formed in it.
Why did he still look good?
"I don't think you came here to ask that, Angel," Jaehyun replied mockingly. "I really believed in your whole story about us going on our ways, so what are you doing at a race where most of the spectators are from Neo Zone?"
The girl was left speechless. "Jungwoo brought me here."
"Well, if that's the case, enjoy the races, I think it'll be fun for you to spice up your Wednesday nights a bit," he continued with a sarcastic smile.
"What happened to you?" She asked again.
Jaehyun didn't answer.
He had gotten himself into big trouble... all thanks to Jeno.
He had trusted that all his merchandise would be sold by the time Monday came around, but after being at Johnny Suh's party, where other dealers were also present, he didn't manage to sell what he needed.
He had a little less than half left in his pockets and in Lucas's.
Luck had not been on his side this time, and when he had to be accountable to Lee Sooman, he had to take responsibility for his brother's actions. And despite telling him that he would not take care of him like he used to after the argument they had... he'd much rather take the beatings he had received than see Jeno the way he did in the mirror.
That time, it really felt eternal. He still remembers the angry (but also mocking) look Sooman had on his face when Jaehyun and Lucas brought the money to his office and after asking Lucas none too kindly to leave, that was when Jaehyun knew what was coming.
With Cheol Uk by his side, leading him out of the office to the vacant lot not far from the warehouse, Jaehyun could do nothing but accept what was coming.
It was one blow after another, and he knew well that at that moment, defending himself was not something he should do or he would end up worse.
He remembers feeling every punch with tremendous pain, and all he could think about was Jeno and how he would have felt if it had been him getting beaten up.
At least Jaehyun was used to the beatings and had no choice; he already knew that all of this was part of being someone from Neo Zone, so he simply had to continue to comply with what Sooman demanded to the letter unless he wanted to end up again in the position he was in.
What felt like hours was really just a few minutes; Cheol Uk stopped hitting him after a while and without saying more, he left. Leaving Jaehyun in the middle of the vacant lot with a broken lip and eyebrow as he spat blood and reached for his abdomen for some support to get up and walk to where he knew Lucas was waiting for him.
How much more? How much longer would he have to keep with all of this?
But, right now, it wasn't something he should talk about.
"It's really not something you need to know," he replied with a smirk. "You came to enjoy the race, right? Then do it, I'll be running in a few minutes, if you don't get scared by the atmosphere here before that, I'm sure you'll want to see me," Jaehyun continued, winking at her.
"I think it'll be fun to see you in second place," the girl teased.
"Baby... I always win," Jaehyun bragged, looking her directly in the eyes.
It was then that the girl didn't say anything else, she just kept her gaze on his. She hated feeling intrigued by Jaehyun himself. Because right now she didn't even feel like she was in Kosmo, with Jaehyun in front of her looking directly at her, she didn't even feel real. She was getting into fire and she knew it.
And she didn't know if she could escape from it.
For a moment she felt a heaviness on her shoulders and warmth surrounded her, causing her to snap out of her thoughts and notice that the jacket that Jaehyun was wearing over his hoodie was now over her body.
"You were trembling like a chihuahua," Jaehyun explained. "Don't consider it an act of kindness, I'm just returning the favor after having done my jobs those two weeks... at least now they won't kick me out of school this evaluation period," he continued.
"I'm not sure if I should feel good knowing that I'm indirectly helping an illegal business," she replied, adjusting the jacket.
"No one needs to know," he replied. "Good luck tonight, don't get lost too much because things get interesting," he said, and without further ado, he turned around to go back to his friends.
(Y/N) stood perplexed in her place, and it was then that she felt Jungwoo's presence next to her.
"What was that?"
"I have no idea."
_______________________________________________
The next morning, after putting her books back in her backpack, (Y/N) looked at the jacket folded inside her bag, feeling a heaviness and remembering the events of the previous night.
The rumors were true... Jung Jaehyun was the best street racer in the area, because he not only competed once the day before, but two more times, winning 3 victories in a short time, and to be honest, it had been impressive.
She hadn't run into him again after the brief conversation they had, and even though she had been waiting for it... she and Jungwoo bolted from the place when they heard the police sirens approaching Kosmo.
The last thing she needed was for her parents to find out about her escapade.
She didn't hear anything from Daeho the night before, she even doubted if he had really gone to the race.
She didn't want to give too much importance to the situation, which is why she chose to continue her path through the school hallways, hoping to return the jacket that was at the bottom of her bag and trying to divert her thoughts to something other than Jaehyun.
And as if she had summoned him, she saw him under the entrance roof as he leaned against the wall and took a drag from the cigarette in his hands. (Y/N) checked the day's weather and cursed when she noticed the raindrops falling lightly. She had forgotten about today's forecast.
Jaehyun was lost in his thoughts as he watched the rain and let out the smoke in his chest.
The bruises were still visible.
She stopped abruptly to take the jacket out of her bag and, without saying anything, approached him and handed it back to him.
Jaehyun looked at her with a raised eyebrow and blew out the smoke from his lungs.
"You're welcome," Jaehyun said as he took the jacket in his hands.
"Yes, thank you," she said, feeling her cheeks flush.
"Where did you park your car?" Jaehyun asked out of nowhere.
"I didn't bring it with me, my mom confiscated it," she blurted out without thinking, and when she turned to look at Jaehyun, she noticed a mocking smile on his face.
"Oh, mom took away your Porsche," he pouted mockingly and shook his head. "Come on, I'll take you home."
"I'm fine, Jaehyun. Thanks," she said as she looked at the rain.
"Come on, it wouldn't be the first time I've taken you. Plus, the school won't be closing anytime soon."
She thought about all the possibilities that crossed her mind, but something about her was excited to think about the ride home.
"Where's your car?"
______________________________________________
It was fortunate that his car was nearby.
Jaehyun turned on the heater as soon as they got into the car, and without further ado, the journey began.
It was just like the first time they had been together in the same car. Without saying anything, both with their eyes focused on the road, and it was then that they both realized that they didn't have a topic of conversation. The few times they had interacted had been about their interests and what they needed from each other at the moment. However, Jaehyun didn't know anything about (Y/N) that he hadn't heard at school, and (Y/N) didn't know anything about Jaehyun that she hadn't heard in the hallways or from her parents about the people from Neo Zone.
At this point, they weren't even acquaintances.
They had just coincided in something and that was it.
(Y/N) took the opportunity to send a text message to Jungwoo and tell him that he no longer needed to pick her up, without explaining more, she sent the text and subsequently, Jaehyun's phone rang.
The boy sighed and cautiously looked for a quick place to park even with the sound of the mobile phone ringing filling the car. He took the device and (Y/N) could notice the slight tension that seized Jaehyun's body as he read the caller ID, without thinking twice he answered the call.
The brunette felt weird being able to hear Jaehyun's conversation, so she tried to distract herself with something else. First with her phone, then looking out the window where she could see the rain beginning to dissipate, and then she could hear a "I'll be there in a moment" that made her react and turn to see him end the call.
The boy scratched his neck and then brought his hands to his face to rub it, let out a deep sigh, and looked at (Y/N).
“Uh, I need to do something quickly and your house is still a bit far... Do you mind if we stop by that place first? It's on the way” he asked with no other option.
“Does this has to do with your job?” She asked.
It took him a moment to respond: — No, it's not about my job. You can stay in the car, it's just that, I really need to get there.
After seeing Jaehyun's face and not being able to decipher what he was trying to say, (Y/N) nodded, not very sure, and that was enough for Jaehyun to quickly start the car.
Thousands of thoughts ran through (Y/N)'s mind. Eager to know where they were headed; she didn't know if she should believe Jaehyun that this wasn't about picking up or delivering goods or meeting someone who worked on the same thing he did.
She was only sure they wouldn't go to Neo Zone because they were far from there.
She could see how impatient Jaehyun seemed while driving, and that only made her even more nervous. What exactly did they tell him in that call to make him like this? She wanted to ask, but she knew she wouldn't get an answer.
She didn't know how many minutes had passed, she only knew that the rain stopped just before the car parked and she finally noticed where they were. A gray building was a few meters away from them, and it wasn't hard to recognize it.
It was the National Rehabilitation Center.
A long and large building, which was accompanied by an extensive garden, and from the outside, you could see that there were a huge number of rooms inside it.
Her head was flooded with even more questions knowing that this was the place where Jaehyun was needed.
“You can stay in the car if you want. I'll be back in a moment” Jaehyun said as he opened the car door and got out.
Curiosity got the better of her.
And that's why she got out of the car and followed Jaehyun. Without saying anything, they entered the building where they were immediately greeted by a nurse who seemed to know the boy well.
“Jaehyun, I'm glad you were able to answer the call” said the woman as she greeted them. “We need to talk to you”.
The boy nodded and turned to (Y/N), who just nodded and said, “I’ll wait for you.”
He smiled slightly and walked with the person until they reached the reception where she was able to pull out a few papers.
It had been, perhaps, about two weeks since the last time he had been there. A place he was very familiar with and where he regularly went; he had become good friends with the friendly nurses who apparently didn't care where he came from.
He was grateful that the nurse didn't say anything when his bruises and wounds were clearly visible.
“Has something happened?” he asked after a few seconds.
“ He's fine” the nurse said with a smile “but we need to talk to you about his stay here” she continued.
That's when the small smile on his face disappeared. Jaehyun knew what she was referring to. He swallowed hard before the nurse could speak.
“The payment is overdue, Jaehyun," the nurse confirmed what he already knew. "We care about Sicheng's health, but this is not my concern. You know that the center relies on patients' monthly payments, and the administrators in charge of them request them punctually," she commented as she handed Jaehyun one of the papers. "I understand your situation and Sicheng's, but there's nothing more I can do even if I wanted to; I've tried to delay the payment as much as I could, but unfortunately, it can't be delayed any longer. The administrators expect the payment soon, or we'll have to discharge Sicheng and send him home," she concluded.
It was difficult at first for Jaehyun to process everything the nurse had said, as more than ten things ran through his mind at once; one of them being his good friend Winwin, then, thinking about how he could quickly get the money he knew he owed to the clinic, considering the beating he had just received for not being able to complete a sale. So, what would he do? He still needed half the money for that monthly payment, and between the clinic's expenses and those of his own house for his family, he couldn't see a way to get the money on time.
He would have to ask for more stash to sell if he wanted to do it.
He couldn't let them discharge Sicheng.
Not while he hasn't made progress.
"I'm sorry," Jaehyun said. "I... I still have a little left to complete the payment. It's just that lately, it's been harder, and... how much time do I have to pay it?" the breathless boy asked.
"Considering that it's only the first few days of the month, and the payment is already two weeks late... I can't give you more than three days," lamented the nurse, making a grimace.
"I'll try the impossible to bring you that money on Saturday. Sicheng still can't be discharged; he hasn't progressed the way he was supposed to," he affirmed, a slight pout evident in his mouth.
What a contrast there was between his expression and the bruises, accompanied by the tattoos on his body.
Being in the Rehabilitation Center was the place where he could be most vulnerable.
"How is he?" he asked, lowering his gaze.
"Same as the last time you came to visit him," commented the nurse. "We're doing what we can, Jaehyun, but as long as he stays the way he is, we can't move forward. We need his will to help him."
When no words came out of his mouth, the nurse continued: "Jaehyun, you know you can go see him."
For Jaehyun, each visit was just as difficult as the day he decided to admit Sicheng to that clinic, and each one left him more tormented than the previous.
He would give everything if that means that Sicheng would go back to be himself.
He nodded after a few seconds and cautiously glanced back, where, not far away, (Y/N) was reading some brochures and observing the facilities around them; when she noticed the boy's gaze on her body, she walked toward him carefully.
The brunette didn't really know what came to his mind or what caused those words to come out of his mouth, but when he wanted to back off, it was too late, because they had already been expressed.
"Are you coming with me?"
And although (Y/N) had no idea why they were there or where they were going, she accepted anyway. So they found themselves walking down the long whitewashed hallway until they reached an elevator, and then they went up about three floors.
The atmosphere was cold, the hallways and rooms were well-lit, and they could see a few nurses and what she assumed were doctors walking around in their lab coats.
Jaehyun didn't know why he was allowing himself to show her that part of his life, especially when it was such a fragile part for him. He had tried to protect it cautiously for the past few months, and now he was there, accompanied by Hwang (Y/N), with the person he never thought he would meet at that moment.
He hadn't really thought of her when he asked if they could go there before going home; his head was only thinking about the clinic and Sicheng when the call had ended, and it was too late to change his mind when they had set off.
He just hoped the girl would be discreet enough.
They reached room 119, where Jaehyun pushed the door open and where in a wheelchair, they both could see Winwin, who was facing the large window of his room, looking outside.
(Y/N)'s surprised face did not go unnoticed; she was confused in a thousand ways. She knew who Dong Sicheng was; everyone in her school knew him, however... she thought he had simply left the city. She had no idea he was in that place. So in her head, thousands of questions arose about him, why he was there, and why he was in a wheelchair.
She could only react when she heard Jaehyun's voice: "Hey, buddy. How are you today?"
Nothing.
That's what he received.
Jaehyun walked over to him, and when he stood next to him, he crouched down enough to be able to observe him better. Winwin had his gaze fixed forward, his cheeks were a little rosy, his hair fell over his forehead, and his hands were resting on his legs.
Jaehyun sighed.
"Oh, I see you've taken a shower today," the boy mentioned with a smile, and again, there was not a single response.
When he noticed the presence of the girl, who had remained in her place throughout the visit and hesitated to approach them, he spoke: "Today I'm not alone; I brought company. Maybe you'll find it helpful to hear another voice that isn't mine or Lucas's... or the nurses'," the boy teased and gestured to the brunette to come closer, who obeyed. "Do you remember (Y/N)? She was in our class; we've coincided a couple of times, that's why she's here."
"Hello, Winwin," she greeted softly. Jaehyun made a grimace and stood up from his place to be at the girl's height.
"Don't expect an answer," Jaehyun commented. "There won't be one."
"I thought... I thought Winwin had moved to China," (Y/N) confessed.
Jaehyun snorted: "Yes, that's what everyone thinks."
Those words took her by surprise, and it was when she decided to remain silent, watching from a distance the little interaction between the boys: it was just Jaehyun saying a few words while adjusting Sicheng's hair without expecting any response.
Dong Sicheng and Jung Jaehyun had been friends since birth, being two little boys who grew up on the streets of Neo Zone, it was easy to click with each other. Winwin's parents had decided to move to the infamous area after his father had met Lee Sooman in some low neighborhood in Wenzhou, China, and he had offered him a job where he could have his family at least a little better off than in his country.
Winwin had not joined the gang since it had not been of great urgency to him; his father was the active member needed by the family, and if he were honest... the farthest he could be from the Neo Zone gang... the better. He was always Jaehyun's companion at all times. Best friends who shared every detail of their lives for years, Jaehyun took care of Sicheng, and he provided the most sincere friendship he had ever had... then, a while later, Lucas Wong and Mark Lee joined their adventures.
Four boys from Neo Zone with the desire to conquer the world, but unable to leave their sad reality behind.
Jaehyun still remembers that fateful day a year ago, and he still feels like it happened yesterday.
The guilt gnawed at him every passing day, terrorizing each of his nights as he wondered: Why?
Why did something like that have to happen to someone as good as Dong Sicheng was?
A year ago, when Jaehyun had chosen to go deliver a package of stash after Winwin had asked him to stay and keep him company, and he had denied that request... that decision still drilled into his head.
Winwin's family and he had been robbed in their own home. Knowing who had done it, the reasons for the event, and who had ordered such inhumanity, were still a mystery. When Winwin's parents along with him tried to flee the place by leaving in a car; it had not been the wisest decision they had made at the moment... because not long after, outside of Neo Zone, after the group of people who had robbed their home managed to shoot a clean shot in one of the tires of the rear part of the car, causing Winwin's father to lose control of his own vehicle and not a few meters later it would impact hard enough for the car to be shot in another direction, causing immediate damage.
Jaehyun only remembers receiving a call from Lucas and minutes later finding himself at the entrance to the Emergency Room of the General Hospital, where a stretcher with Winwin's body was being transported.
He remembers seeing the blood. He remembers hearing Lucas and Mark's screams asking to see their friend. He remembers standing still at the entrance to the Emergency Room.
But above all, he remembers thinking, what would have happened if instead of deciding to go sell that stupid package of stash, what if he had stayed at home with his mother and Sicheng?
A week in a coma and a diagnosis of paraplegia was what made Jaehyun lose his mind.
It had been a year since the accident, and Winwin had not even progressed a bit. After being diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder, it had been difficult to help the injury in the dorsal spine that he had suffered; the damage had been partial, Winwin could handle his movements and his sensitivity to walk again... if only he would come out of the state of shock he was still in.
There were too many things he experienced in so few minutes, so much physical and mental pain for what happened, that now, Sicheng couldn't react.
It had been a year since Sicheng hasn’t spoken.
The doctors assured that he could hear and understand everything, but he was simply mentally tired to process the words and make them come out of his mouth.
His body didn't react as it should either.
And until Winwin had the strength of his own will to do it, the only thing they could do at that clinic was to keep him on medication so that the pains would not persist.
But Jaehyun couldn't take it anymore.
What he would give for Sicheng to be able to enjoy life again.
Unfortunately, the visits he made to the hospital... didn't last more than half an hour since that was the place's regulation. So, his farewell was as quick as his arrival.
"See you on Saturday, Win," he put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't give the nurses too much trouble."
He could swear he heard Winwin laugh and say goodbye.
Even though that really didn't happen.
(Y/N), who throughout the visit remained silent observing both boys, could feel her heart in her hand. She had never believed she would see that vulnerability on Jaehyun's part, and knowing what it was about because of the importance his best friend had in his life, made her heart ache with sadness even more.
"Now I'll take you home," murmured Jaehyun when he passed by her without saying anything else.
The girl glanced back, looking for the last time at Sicheng's silhouette, who hadn't moved from the same place since they had both arrived in the room. She took a deep breath and left the room when Jaehyun was already far enough away.
She didn't know what to say. There were no words of comfort for the situation, and she knew it, that's why they both silently said goodbye to the nurse who had received them and continued like that until they entered the car, which was not parked far away.
Jaehyun allowed himself to lean back on the driver's seat as he closed his eyes and sighed heavily.
"I guess you have many questions," Jaehyun said without opening his eyes.
She had.
"I don't know if I really should ask them," (Y/N) confessed as she looked at him.
The boy remained silent for a few seconds.
"Sicheng and his parents had an accident a year ago," Jaehyun said, opening his eyes to look at her. "An accident that was caused."
"By whom?"
"No one knows," he replied, taking his hands to the steering wheel of the car and squeezing it tightly. "His parents died instantly... Winwin arrived at the hospital in critical condition; it was a miracle that he came out alive."
"Why...?"
"Why is he in this clinic?" he interrupted, and she nodded with a knot in her stomach. "The accident had a great impact and damaged on his dorsal spine; the doctors diagnosed partial paraplegia; his sensitivity in his legs was minimal, and he couldn't make any extensive movements with his legs that didn't make him cry from the pain. After seven days, he woke up from the coma and realized everything that had happened, including my uncle's death... he hasn't said a single word since then... the doctors said it would take time for him to recover, and that eventually, he would speak, but Winwin doesn't have the will to do it; he's still in a kind of state of shock, and that has delayed his recovery," he explained, unable to see her in the eyes.
"Who... who pays for all this if Sicheng's parents aren't here?" she asked curiously.
Jaehyun sighed; "For the first few months, my boss covered part of the monthly fee, until suddenly he stopped doing it. Since then, I've been taking care of it."
The girl's expression was one of surprise.
"How do you do it?"
"That’s the reason I'm in the business that I'm in," he replied, changing his gaze to her, being able to see directly into her eyes and causing her to feel a shiver run through her body.
There was something about those bruised eyes that had done something to her.
"It must be hard," the girl said in a murmur.
Jaehyun snorted and nodded slowly. He hated being seen in his less tough character. The only person he allowed himself to be like that with was Lucas... or Winwin. And for a stranger to see him like that... made his blood boil.
"You know? Winwin loved dancing," Jaehyun said, smiling sideways as the memory came to his mind.
That fact wasn't strange for (Y/N), she remembers seeing Winwin at the school theater... the only boy from Neo Zone who was part of the dance team. She didn't even know how he had managed that, but he must have been good if the Kwangya students allowed him to be in the group.
"Now nobody knows if he'll be able to do it again," Jaehyun continued. "Winwin was the only one of all of us who really had a future, he wasn't even a gang member... he hadn't even gone through his initiation, and look how he ended up."
(Y/N) swallowed.
"Mark Lee is no longer friends with you, right?" The girl asked curiously.
"Things got complicated with him after the accident."
The brunette fell silent for a moment and then shifted her body to face him.
“Haven't you thought about looking for another alternative?” she questioned again “You know? If you let me help you, maybe I could get you a position at my father's company and...”
“Shh. I think I've told you it's not that easy.”
“ But it could be” she insisted.
Jaehyun scoffed and shook his head as he looked away from her.
“I not only have to cover this quota, I also have to bring money home, for my mom and for Jeno. It's the easiest way to get what I need” he confessed “besides, I told you once... in Neo Zone there's no way out, once you're in, you're in forever.”
The tattoos on his neck were what sentenced him to a miserable life forever.
But as long as that miserable life helped to ease the pain and managed to make Sicheng return to who he was, it would be worth it.
“It doesn't have to be like this” she murmured, focusing on her own hands.
"You don't know what it's like to be part of this," he countered in a low voice.
How had they opened up to have such a conversation so suddenly?
The girl felt her lip tremble as she remembered the scene she had witnessed minutes earlier in that room, and she couldn't help but think about how it would feel to lose a loved one in such a way... knowing that physically they were present, but mentally they weren't there.
(Y/N) had always had a heart easy to move, but she really never believed that Jung Jaehyun would be able to achieve that.
"Is that why you insist on continuing school?" she asked, looking at him again.
"Students are my best clients," he replied with a half smile.
(Y/N) didn't know how to take that.
She closed her eyes for a moment and then said, "I can help you with a few more assignments," she assured. "But only for a while and in my own way. But, I don't want you to involve me in any of the problems you're in, it will only be school matters. I don't want to be associated with anything you do, if anything you do is enough to help Sicheng, I'll try not to question it."
Jaehyun couldn't believe what he had just heard.
"If that helps you help me and me stay in school..." he paused "...I might be willing."
"What's the reason for your change of heart?"
"Because if I were in the same situation as you, I would also want someone to somehow help me," she replied, hugging herself.
The boy nodded with a half-smile, and without further ado, he started the car.
"Only school matters," Jaehyun confirmed.
She definitely didn't know what he had just gotten himself into.
______________________________________________
The day after the visit to the National Rehabilitation Center, something happened that made (Y/N) unable to concentrate enough during class hours. Her mind kept going back to the place over and over again, but how horrible was the situation the boy was in. One day you're capable, and the next... not even being able to move. How could anyone endure that?
At some point in the morning, during the physics period, her mind was spinning, her leg moving anxiously, and she bit her lips. She tried to erase the conversation she and Jaehyun had had the day before a thousand times and tried to erase the image of Winwin in that room.
But it was impossible.
Just when she thought she had succeeded, the image returned immediately.
She hated being someone who cared too much about things.
Because she knew something wasn't right with her when she found herself in front of the doors of the Rehabilitation Center.
Her coat shielded her from the cold breeze on that day, and as she clutched her bag to her, she didn't think anymore and entered the place.
She felt a little out of place when she entered the center, but after a few minutes, a presence came in front of her.
"Hello, good morning," the nurse greeted her. "Oh, you're the girl who accompanied Jaehyun yesterday, right?" She asked in confusion.
The girl smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm Hwang (Y/N). I'm Jaehyun's classmate... and Winwin's."
"How nice of you to visit us... are you here to see Winwin? It's rare to see someone come for him other than Lucas or Jaehyun," confessed the nurse.
"Um, yes... I could say I'm here for a visit," the girl smiled. "But, to be honest... yesterday I overheard a bit of his conversation with Jaehyun... I know Winwin's payment is delayed this month."
"Yes, usually Jaehyun finds a way to pay on time," she sighed. "But this month it's been delayed for a few weeks, and if I'm honest, I've been doing everything I can to keep Winwin from being discharged."
The girl nodded and asked, "Do you think Winwin's treatment will still take time?"
"I can't answer that accurately," admitted the nurse. "It's all a matter of Winwin's will, but to be honest, right now he has no will at all, so far as we're concerned, and if the payment continues to be monthly... he could spend another half a year here."
The girl understood the situation, and although she would like to think more about it... she didn't, so she didn't even know when she blurted out those words: "Is there any way I can pay for the next six months?"
The nurse's eyes widened with surprise, and she looked at the girl with enthusiasm. "Are you serious?"
"Yes," she replied. "I would like to help one of my classmates as long as I can. Money is not a problem," she confessed.
"Wow... thank you, i really appreciate that. Winwin is a boy with a lot of potential from what we know, and although we're sad that we haven't made the progress we want, we know that someday he will leave through that door better," (Y/N) smiled nostalgically.
"I just need to ask you something," the brunette confessed. "Could you not tell Jaehyun that I've paid?" she questioned.
"I don't know if it's easy to lie to someone like Jaehyun," the nurse laughed. "But since it's something good you've done... I'll try," the nurse walked to the desk with (Y/N) behind her. "(Y/N)?" She called and paid attention. "I know there may be many things about Jaehyun... but he's a good guy... beneath all that facade; he really has something good."
Those words hammered in her head. "Thank you."
_____________________________________________
(Y/N) reviewed the same line of text she had read five times now on some molasses topic. Trying to understand the topic deeply.
The air coming lightly through one of the library windows was enough for her to try to hug herself to take warmth, read a bit from the physics books on the table, and impatiently move her leg.
She didn't know at what exact moment a tall figure stood in front of her, but what she did know was that that person didn't seem very happy.
"Why did you do it?" Jaehyun let out while looking directly at her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," (Y/N) replied while looking at her book attentively.
"I know you know. I thought I told you I don't need your money," Jaehyun repeated with annoyance.
"I still don't know what you're talking about," the girl stopped seeing her book and changed her gaze to the boy.
"Don't play with me," the boy exclaimed exasperatedly. "Why did I went to the center today and they told me Winwin's treatment has been paid for the next six months?"
The girl shrugged. "It could have been your boss."
"My boss doesn't give a shit about Winwin!" Exclaimed the boy. "I told you I didn't need your money, I was clear, I don't want to owe anything to anyone from Kwangya."
"You don't need to pay me back," the girl assured, standing up in front of Jaehyun. "With the money you'll save from that, you'll be able to sell less."
"It seems you don't understand a fucking thing!" Jaehyun raised your arms with annoyance. "Paying or not paying for Sicheng's treatment, it doesn't change the fact that I sell drugs!" The boy explained regardless of where they were; they were lucky the library wasn't being occupied by other people.
"Everyone starts somewhere!" the girl attacked. "I just wanted to take a weight off your shoulders."
Jaehyun scoffed and looked at her with a sarcastic smile.
"Why? I don't need your pity! If you hadn't accompanied me yesterday, you'd still be thinking Winwin had moved to China! You didn't give a fucking damn even when he was your classmate!"
(Y/N) started gathering her things and putting them in her backpack.
"Saying thank you would have been enough, Jaehyun!" the girl remarked. "I know you can do better with your life," she murmured as she turned to look at him.
Jaehyun's blood was boiling; he hated when people interfered in his life, as if he didn't already have enough to deal with.
"You don't know anything about me! You said it yourself; we're not even friends," he retorted.
"And what if I want to get to know you better?" the girl exclaimed without thinking. They both fell silent, staring into each other's eyes. (Y/N) didn't even want to say those words, but she did.
She couldn't deny that Jung Jaehyun was intriguing. She didn't know why. She didn't know why she had been avoiding him for weeks, but since that night at Neo Zone, when they had talked about the deal, she knew it would be difficult to shake him off, and when she had... something inside her wanted them to meet again. Why are things so difficult? They are two different people from different backgrounds; why would she suddenly be interested in him? Was it because she saw him vulnerable the day before? Or was it because she believed there was something good in him, just like the nurse had said?
She must be crazy to think like that.
"You really don't want to do it," Jaehyun said with a bit more calmness.
"I know you can get out out of that hole, Jaehyun."
"Winwin's parents tried, and look how that ended up!" he exclaimed. "There's no way out in Neo Zone, get that through your head," he explained. "There's nothing good about me. I don't even know why you think so, just because yesterday you saw something different or because I drove you home a couple of times, doesn't mean you know everything about me!"
"Stop acting like a fucking jerk."
"Like a jerk? This is reality! Your act of charity isn't going to change my life. I was born a dealer, and that's how my life will end!"
"I really believe there's something good in you."
"Well, keep believing it."
"If you ever feel grateful, you know where to find me," the girl said, gathering her things and walking out of the library.
Jaehyun cursed under his breath and shook his hands in frustration. In just a few days, the girl had managed to push his buttons faster than anyone else from Neo Zone.
But when he saw her walk out the door, why did he feel regret for lashing out at her?
_______________________________________________
The week had been slow this time. (Y/N) and Jaehyun had been avoiding each other like the plague, not even looking at each other when they crossed paths in the hallway. For the girl, it seemed like childish behavior, especially coming from Jaehyun and his usual façade; now he seemed nothing more than someone throwing a tantrum after she only wanted to help him.
But she still thought she really wanted to get to know him better.
What was behind his façade? What was it that made him who he was? Not the boy from Neo Zone, not the dealer everyone knew... who was Jeong Jaehyun really?
That question had been on her mind for weeks, and it disappointed her a bit to know that she might never know the answers to those doubts she had about the boy.
Today was warm compared to the weather last week. The sun was shining brightly, and luckily for (Y/N), her mother had decided to return her car. So her day had started off on the right foot, and hoping for a good day, she took the opportunity to stop by her favorite coffee shop in Kwangya. Ordering her usual vanilla latte and just before it was time to pay, a thought invaded her mind, and after debating it internally, she decided to follow her thoughts.
An hour and a half later, when she was the last one to leave her physics class, someone blocked her path at the classroom door. Holding her book to her chest, after the unexpected startle, she looked ahead to find no one but Jaehyun. Who stood silently in front of her, with the same leather jacket he used to wear, the same combination of marijuana and vanilla scent, and with the same enchanting eyes, that she had just noticed.
She was in dangerous territory.
And she knew it.
"I need to go to my next class, Jaehyun," the girl said shortly.
For a few seconds, the boy in front of her didn't say anything, he just watched her, until he sighed and slowly said, "Thank you."
Short and to the point, he didn't say anything else, and that was enough to make (Y/N)'s heart flutter in a thousand ways.
"For the coffee," the boy finished. "And for the notes."
"I did my part, I told you I would help you," said (Y/N) as she fiddled with her fingers.
"I thought you wouldn't after the last time we met," Jaehyun confessed.
"I'm sticking to that."
A small silence ensued. Two people face to face. With thousands of doubts between them and things to resolve. What had drawn them together? How was it that the universe managed to put two completely different people in the same place?
"Did you mean it?" Jaehyun asked, and when he noticed that (Y/N) didn't understand what he meant, he continued. "About wanting to get to know me more."
(Y/N) swallowed hard and looking him in the eyes, nodded.
"I still believe there's something good in you."
"Why?"
"I don't know yet," she replied honestly. "And it's killing me. A while ago, I wouldn't have wanted anything to do with you, not even to cross paths, but now, I don't know what's changed, but every time I try to stay away, it's like something brings me back here," she confessed, leaving Jaehyun speechless, who just watched her, trying to decipher everything she was saying.
It was killing him too.
"Let's go to my car," he said.
"Huh?" she asked, confused.
"You want to know more about me, then get in my car," he said again, this time making his way to the parking lot, with (Y/N) behind him, who didn't say a single word, just followed his lead.
What was he doing?
When they reached the car, Jaehyun opened the passenger door, causing (Y/N) to get in without protesting. Then Jaehyun got into the driver's seat and without further ado, started the engine. She didn't know what was happening or what would happen next, but right now she could only trust Jaehyun.
Even though she didn't know how bad an idea that might be.
A few minutes later, as they had traveled a long distance, (Y/N) noticed they were approaching Neo Zone, and with her eyes wide open, she panicked.
"This is me," Jaehyun said out of nowhere, catching the girl's attention. "See all these streets? This is where I belong. This is what I am," he explained carefully.
(Y/N) looked out the window, a couple of people smoking on the sidewalk, others passing joints, and other silent streets. The houses weren't that big... rather, they looked cramped. Unlike what she was used to, to her lifestyle, this didn't seem like it would be enough for a family.
But what did she know with the privilege she had?
"I grew up here, this is what I know," he commented. "Most people are born and die here, it's something that seems to be already written," he continued as his car slowed down. "Those of us from here have a different perspective on life... people from Kwangya lives for the money... we live to survive, and although it's getting harder and harder, we manage to do it," the car finally stopped, and still looking out the window, (Y/N) saw a small house in front of them. One story, not much to describe or point out, it was small but for some reason, it looked cozy.
(Y/N) changed her gaze to Jaehyun, who was still looking ahead and spoke.
"Is this your house?"
Jaehyun nodded.
(Y/N) smiled softly.
"Would you invite me in?"
______________________________________________
He doesn't know how (Y/N) managed to have an effect on him, but now they were there, inside his little house, (Y/N) carefully examining the walls around them and analyzing every aspect of the small space.
He was grateful there were no one at home.
"It looks cozy," (Y/N) said as she looked at one of the frames hanging on the wall.
"I guess it's not even a third of your house," Jaehyun assured to (Y/N).
“And no matter how many people are there, it always feels lonely," she confessed. "It's like no one leaves anything there, like it's something unimportant. As if it's not a home," she finished.
Jaehyun looked at her gently, and as she looked around, thousands of things went through his mind.
"To be honest with you," the girl spoke. "I see more vibes from Jeno in this house than yours," she said. "Many things here seem related to Jeno... but I don't see many things related to you..." she continued. "It's like you don't even think about staying here for long."
"I don't plan on leaving Neo Zone," Jaehyun asserted, crossing his arms.
"Don't you want a different future?"
"There's no future for me," Jaehyun pointed out. "And if there were, I'd prefer to give it to Jeno. He has much more to live for than I do."
"You also have a life to live. A future to write, you can change what is today, for something better," (Y/N) turned around to face the boy.
"I have no way out," the boy replied. "Do you think this is easy? After seeing my dad die and doing everything my bosses ask me to do no matter what. Taking care of my mom, Jeno, and now Winwin? Huh? Making sure Winwin becomes who he was again and that my brother doesn't end up being a fucking addict are enough reasons for me not to leave here," Jaehyun concluded, getting dangerously close to her, with a few centimeters separating them.
The words echoed in her head strongly.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't pity me," Jaehyun said under his breath.
"It's not that. It's just that every time I think about all this and now that I see your place and I don't see anything that seems to belong to you, it makes me think that's what you're looking for, to belong to something and leave here as soon as there's an opportunity,"
Jaehyun looked directly at her, not knowing what to say. And afraid to think that maybe she was right.
Because yes, maybe he wanted to get out of there, along with his mom, Jeno, and Winwin; maybe he wanted to do something with his life that wasn't illegal, but what was the point of thinking about it when he knew he wouldn't make it? He was afraid to admit that he wanted to be able to change things, to be able to make his family okay, that no shadow from the past would follow them, that they would have a place where they could forge a clean and safe future.
"This has never been about what I want," Jaehyun commented with a future. "Since I was born, everything around me was the gang. After my father's death, I knew what was coming, and I knew I would never be able to get out of it. It doesn’t matter what I want. It matter what my boss wants, he has that kind of power, no one below him has their own decision. The whole life of Neo Zone is ruled by him," he concluded, even closer to her.
(Y/N) looked him in the eyes, her breath uncontrolled. Her chest heaved, and her hands were sweating.
"What do you want, Jaehyun?" she whispered.
The boy paused for a moment and looked at her lips.
"Now?" he asked, and she nodded. "Would it be unrealistic to say that I want to kiss you?"
"How realistic would it be to say that I want you to do it?
She didn't even finish the question because Jaehyun's lips collided firmly with hers. The boy's long hands slid through (Y/N)'s soft hair, her hair smelling of lavender shampoo. He gently covered her cheek with one of his rough hands, and she melted into the touch.
It wasn't a hurried kiss, as (Y/N) thought it would be; actually, Jaehyun was taking the time to savor every passing second. As if this moment would disappear at any minute and he wanted to hold onto it.
Was he looking for something to belong to?
His hand moved from her cheek to her waist, and she took the opportunity to press her body against his and release a moan of pleasure. As if she felt complete leaning against Jaehyun's warmth.
As if it was something they both longed for for a long time.
And even though she wanted to continue with the act, they were severely interrupted when a car horn sounded incessantly outside the house, causing them to separate with tremendous confusion. (Y/N)'s red cheeks were enough to make Jaehyun's heart race, but when he heard another horn, he took her hand and they walked outside in hurry.
And then, there was Jeno, being thrown out of the back of a car, blood streaming from a cut on his eyebrow, bruises scattered all over his body, and falling firmly to the ground after being thrown.
"I want this to be the last time your brother sets foot in our zone. Next time it won't be him we throw," the familiar voice of a boy from the opposing gang spoke up. Chris. Who was with the window down and smiling maliciously. "Neither will it be you, Jung. It will be the girl who will end up like this,"
Jaehyun moved abruptly from his place to try to reach the car, but it left as fast as it could, (Y/N) shocked to hear those words, didn't do anything more than approach Jeno to help him up. Then Jaehyun cursed under his breath and looked into the distance at the girl and her brother together.
And his chest tightened as he realized that now, she too had been involved.
And he believed there was no turning back, because she was right... Jaehyun wanted to belong to something.
But how selfish would it be to belong to (Y/N)?
a/n: well now you know what happened to Winwin TT. Once again I’m sorry if this took too long I promise I’ll try to update sooner this time!
taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)
taglist: @spicyryujin @kriizztin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae
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Man, each year I get to it, I love the May 5th entry and what it means. I take something new from it each time. Like last year I noticed the sacrifices and efforts the Driver and the other passengers made to try and save Jonathan, a stranger to them, by showing up early, by giving him gifts, by blessing him, despite the danger that puts them in. Especially when Dracula, as the driver, points it out to the Driver of the first coach, what he was trying to do, and scares him by pointing out what he said (despite it being heard far out of normal earshot and over the sound of horses galloping).
This year though, I notice that, but I see some of the smaller details too. Like how the mountains are full of blooming fruit trees, and how we are so used to the “gothic” aesthetic we almost forget it’s Spring. How Jonathan takes notice and comfort in the view, despite the growing unease he feels because of the people around him. He is trying to distract himself from how scared he’s getting based on their warnings. Warding him from the Evil Eye.
"No, no," he said; "you must not walk here; the dogs are too fierce"; and then he added, with what he evidently meant for grim pleasantry—for he looked round to catch the approving smile of the rest—"and you may have enough of such matters before you go to sleep."
I also take notice of this from the driver, as it’s almost a morbid gallows humor that he clearly knows to expect the wolves, and knowing what happens later, I’m sure the people here have a horrible fear of them, knowing what Dracula can do…and what he does to that poor mother later.
There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the air the heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the mountain range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got into the thunderous one.
We also get here what might be our first indication that the Count can control the weather to an extent.
They were driven by a tall man, with a long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face from us.
All I can imagine is Dracula in a fake beard now lol.
"You are early to-night, my friend." The man stammered in reply:—
"The English Herr was in a hurry," to which the stranger replied:—
"That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are swift."
But God, this must have been terrifying for the driver and the passengers. What would Dracula do to punish them for trying to escape him? Would he dare make an example in front of the Englishman right now, or would he grant them mercy to say nothing else as Jonathan is unsuspectingly led to his doom, so they think.
"Denn die Todten reiten schnell"— ("For the dead travel fast.")
The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a gleaming smile.
It feels like they’re all in on some sick joke that they know the punchline to, but Jonathan doesn’t, so with the dramatic irony, it feels like we the readers are the same peasants, trying to do anything to save or warn Jonathan but it’s already too late.
I also notice how quickly Dracula tries to shift the power dynamic with Jonathan, and have him doubt his sanity so soon, and he’s not even in the castle yet.
He drives him in circles to try and disorient Jonathan and make him feel even more lost, also keeping him out for far later and making Jonathan question if he’s dreaming or if what he’s seeing is real. I’d also bet more than anything that wine he offer Jonathan on the coach that Jonathan didn’t end up taking was drugged. Because it’s far easier to disorient an unconscious passenger in the dark than it is to disorient a conscious passenger. But he still does a pretty darn good job.
Then there’s the blue flames, which Jonathan doesn’t know how to react to as they seem supernatural and he doesn’t know how to rationalize it yet, so he takes it as if he’s dreaming.
This gave me a sort of shock, for I suppose the general superstition about midnight was increased by my recent experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.
Jonathan also has already felt the fear and nerves associated with the supernatural and superstition after what all of the townsfolk have told him, and later he tries to brush this off and rationalize again, try not to get too scared, but a part of him already realizes something is wrong.
Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road—a long, agonised wailing, as if from fear.
I also want to point this out, as it’s right before the wolves surround the coach, but it’s the second time a “dog” has been mentioned howling in the night, and with this evidence, I bet Dracula uses the wolves as a threat to keep the peasants and townsfolk in line, as he can’t munch down on everyone. But it shows how powerful he is and what a threat he poses. I wonder who the wolves kill in the night.
Also how Jonathan, as an Englishman where there were no more native wolves, can’t even imagine that’s what they were and thinks they are dogs.
And it makes sense now that earlier when Jonathan was getting out his good ol’ polyglot dictionary, how the two words mean the same thing.
"vrolok" and "vlkoslak"—both of which mean the same thing, one being Slovak and the other Servian for something that is either were-wolf or vampire.
As Dracula, as we see later, can transform into a wolf himself, and so there is probably less distinction between the two in this culture than we have tried to establish in the modern day.
Once there appeared a strange optical effect: when he stood between me and the flame he did not obstruct it, for I could see its ghostly flicker all the same.
Ah, I wonder if this is an early indication that Dracula cannot be depicted through traditional means? Like how he can’t be seen in the mirror. Certain lights just, pass through him.
I shouted and beat the side of the calèche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from that side, so as to give him a chance of reaching the trap.
We also see Jonathan taking an active and proactive approach, in this manner trying to be helpful and aid his (what he assumes human) driver. With these sorts of actions already, I can see signs of the man who will pick up a shovel to try and do what needs to be done. Who takes a knife and vows action, not hesitating.
He is polite right now, he’s on business. He doesn’t know what’s coming. But regardless, that person is still in him, and he’s capable of taking great action and doing great things for the sake of survival and doing what he thinks is right.
And Dracula commanding the wolves to stop as the driver, and the cloud passing overhead, I feel is like a subtle display of power and threat to Jonathan. He’s still playing pretend, but when Jonathan does figure out he was the coach the whole time, and he plays coy, the Count knows Jonathan will remember this threat, and it feels that much more sinister.
Jonathan still questions and thinks he fell asleep, as he doesn’t see how he’d have missed the approach of the castle otherwise, but I think he was awake because it was dark, and the count was intentionally taking him a winding and confusing path under a lot of fear. Though if he did fall asleep, I’m that much more terrified about how Dracula was driving him about, now secure in the knowledge that Jonathan would be thoroughly isolated and lost.
And the thing that nearly gives Dracula away twice as the driver is the strength of his grip on Jonathan’s hand, also lacing a subtle threat.
through these frowning walls and dark window openings it was not likely that my voice could penetrate.
Well this is just scary knowing how trapped Jonathan becomes later, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear the outside world, and how the outside world might not be able to hear him, and how he’s already acknowledging that.
The time I waited seemed endless, and I felt doubts and fears crowding upon me. What sort of place had I come to, and among what kind of people? What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked?
He already is expressing doubts and fears, he isn’t ignorant of what situation he might be in, and it’s only later when he tries to rationalize with the count and is given the comforts manipulation of food and sleep, that he tries to dismiss these fears and take the Count at his word.
Was this a customary incident in the life of a solicitor's clerk sent out to explain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Solicitor's clerk! Mina would not like that. Solicitor—for just before leaving London I got word that my examination was successful; and I am now a full-blown solicitor!
Okay, this is just really cute. Mina said You passed the Bar, you Deserve to call yourself a Solicitor Jonathan <3
Also explains a lot that Jonathan is a fresh faced baby lawyer who just passed the bar and needs this assignment. He’s probably hoping that after this pay day he can marry Mina and have enough for them to start making a life together. Also says a lot for Dracula’s strategy to him to get someone young, inexperienced, and unfamiliar with the area, who might be seen as “expendable” so that Jonathan’s sudden “disappearance” might go unremarked by those in charge (though Mina would notice).
I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I were awake. It all seemed like a horrible nightmare to me, and I expected that I should suddenly awake, and find myself at home, with the dawn struggling in through the windows, as I had now and again felt in the morning after a day of overwork. But my flesh answered the pinching test, and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awake and among the Carpathians. All I could do now was to be patient, and to wait the coming of the morning.
Again, those early signs of doubt and fear from Jonathan, showing his unease already at the situation. We did not deserve to be clowning on him so much when this book club first started. It’s not his fault he’s not genre aware 😔 I’m sorry Jonathan.
And when Drac does show up to open the door:
"Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own will!" He made no motion of stepping to meet me, but stood like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome had fixed him into stone.
I wonder if he’s like that because he needs to be invited into places to be there, so if it’s almost like a supernatural hold of importance for him to offer the same thing. Almost like a subtle joke or curse with the knowledge that after Jonathan enters, he won’t be allowed to leave of his own will
holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed as cold as ice—more like the hand of a dead than a living man.
I also like how all the clues are there, and since Jonathan has written them down and taken note of them, the expression on them must be some of the things he’s piercing together about his own fears as well that he’s afraid to voice aloud or in his journal, because if he voices his suspicions, they might become more real to him.
The strength of the handshake was so much akin to that which I had noticed in the driver, whose face I had not seen, that for a moment I doubted if it were not the same person to whom I was speaking
See? He knows what’s up, he’s just afraid to say it.
I also didn’t pick up that Jonathan’s room is octagonal for some reason. I wonder if there’s any reason for that or symbolism with the 8 sides?
Also the letter from Mr. Hawkin’s feels very ominous in retrospect knowing what’s coming and how Dracula will treat Jonathan:
"I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters."
I feel like Dracula knew to take advantage of that, and also this feels like him basically reading the menu for an ideal victim once his business is said and done, so I get shivers, brrrrr.
Hitherto I had noticed the backs of his hands as they lay on his knees in the firelight, and they had seemed rather white and fine; but seeing them now close to me, I could not but notice that they were rather coarse—broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs in the centre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point. As the Count leaned over me and his hands touched me, I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which, do what I would, I could not conceal.
I also like that while Jonathan is describing Dracula, he notice his hands. And I am also struck with how little it is brought up that he has hair on his palms, and I can see the more wolf-like nature of this vampire mythology. I wonder if Bram Stoker intended for werewolves and vampires to be the same thing in his novel? They are certainly compared and have similar powers and weaknesses, so it’s possible I guess.
Also Dracula has corpse-breath lol. Nasty.
I saw the first dim streak of the coming dawn. There seemed a strange stillness over everything; but as I listened I heard as if from down below in the valley the howling of many wolves.
Ah ha! Also the first foreshadowing we get for the importance of dawn and dusk in the novel, as we know later how important timing becomes for our protagonists, so seeing its affects already make me smile at the recognition of the signs so early.
"Listen to them—the children of the night. What music they make!" Seeing, I suppose, some expression in my face strange to him, he added:—
"Ah, sir, you dwellers in the city cannot enter into the feelings of the hunter."
And ah, an iconic line. Though I just get second hand angry and uncomfortable at Dracula’s insistence that he’s a “hunter” 🤢. God I just hate him haha.
I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul. God keep me, if only for the sake of those dear to me!
And literally Day 1 of being in the castle and Jonathan is already questioning his sanity and piecing things together he’s afraid to even voice in his journal. This is the second time in as many days he has already wished that those around him find this journal and laments should anything bad happen to him. It creates the impression of one who knows they’re walking into danger but must go on anyway.
But I love Jonathan so much, and I definitely really like the May 5th entry, and it does so much work to set up what happens later.
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