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asahicore · 5 months

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bad news first - sjy (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. From the moment you'd met at eight to the day he moved to South Korea at fourteen, you and Jake were inseparable. But after years of being apart, you've come to terms with the fact that at twenty, you and Jake just aren't what you used to be. That is until you get a text from him, and all of a sudden, he's back by your side, doing his year abroad at the university you study at, and all your feelings for him float back up to the surface. genre. college au, childhood friends to ???? to lovers, painful mutual pining, one bed trope..... a sprinkle of angst (my hand slipped) but mostly fluff i promise and smut (mdni!!!), also i made sunghoon really weird in this and idkw, this is set in scotland.. edinburgh uni rep!! word count. 23k author's note. everybody say happy belated birthday to @zreamy.. happy belated birthday zo!!! being 22 years and 6 days old is cooler than just 22 years old anyway.. hope you like it bestie... if you dont... well theres a building on campus thats 17 stories high sooo.. enjoy! i hope everyone else enjoys too, since this is a bday fic for zo she couldnt beta read so i had to raw dog this so if its terrible.. not my fault! lmk what u think!! i also made a playlist for this, do listen along!!

“Alright kids, good news or bad news first?”

You looked at your teacher, then at the boy next to you, then back at your teacher. “Bad news first,” you said in unison.

You were only eight, but you were both wise enough to know that hearing good news second would assuage the blow of whatever these bad news were. Miss Dawson sighed as she crouched in front of you. “The bad news is your bus driver is on strike and won’t be coming. The good news is that your parents have been informed and are coming to pick you up soon.”

Following her instructions, you headed to the gymnasium and sat there silently among the other kids. Not many kids in your class rode the bus home, and the ones who did seemed to have drivers not on strike, so it was just the two of you. You were used to that, though - over January and February, you had made a sort of silent pact to stand and wait for the bus together. You sometimes shared snacks, but you never spoke. For some reason, you felt at ease with this boy, even though you didn’t know much about him. You had heard he had moved to Brisbane just at the start of this year, all the way from South Korea. You were pretty sure his name was Jake.

You handed him one of your Twix bars. Then he spoke. “I thought a strike was when you did really well in bowling.”

“Same,” you replied, mouth full of chocolate and caramel. “I’m not sure why that would keep the bus driver from picking us up.”

Jake looked at you with wide eyes, distress clear in them. “Do you think he went bowling instead of picking us up?”

This made you frown. “That’d be really rude.”

“It would. I always make sure to go bowling on the weekends, ‘cause if I missed school that’d be rude to Miss Dawson.”

You nodded your head in fervent agreement. “For sure.”

That weekend, his mum called your mum to ask if you wanted to go to the bowling alley with them. From then on, for the next six years, you were stuck together by glue.

Twelve years later, Jake’s name appearing on your phone screen has become such a rare sight, you don’t believe it right away. It takes you a few seconds of intense squinting at the letters to actually realise your eyes aren’t deceiving you.

jake.sim15 hey y/n!! you go to edinburgh uni right?

You type and delete three different responses before settling for a simple yeah, I am! what’s up?, hoping you sounded nonchalant even though you very much felt chalant. You thought that whatever you sent wouldn’t be as weird as taking forever to answer such a straightforward question.

As you wait for Jake’s reply, you scroll through your previous shared messages, noting with sadness that for three years in a row, the only instances you’d texted were to wish each other a happy birthday or when he reacted with a fire emoji to Stories of your dog, Milo. Before that, your last conversation was to congratulate each other about getting into your top choice universities and to discuss plans for your respective futures.

Futures that used to include each other, you think. His reply appears at the bottom of your screen before melancholy can fill your heart.

jake.sim15 i applied to go there for my year abroad next year annnnd i got in !! heh

You shoot up straight from your seat on the lounge chaise you’d been sunbathing on, a loud “Oh my God!” involuntarily escaping your mouth.

“What? What happened? Is everything okay?” Chaewon asks frantically, rushing over to your side. “Oh,” she says when she sees your phone. “It’s a text… from a boy?”

This makes Yunjin, previously unbothered by your panic, rise from her seat and take off her sunglasses. “A boy? Show me,” she demands, snatching your phone from your hands before you can protest. Upon seeing the texts on your screen, she lets out a loud gasp. “It’s not just any boy! It’s the one and only Jake Sim himself.”

“Give that back!” you plead, hand reaching for your phone, but Yunjin is already walking away.

“And he’s coming to Edi this September, apparently. He says he’s sorry for not saying anything earlier, but he was waiting for an answer up until now.” She scoffs. “Leave it to our uni to tell someone they’re in less than two months before term starts. Oh, you’re the first person he’s told, Y/N! After his parents. How cute,” she coos, protesting when you snatch your phone back from her. “Hey! I was reading that.”

“Those are my texts, Yunjin. I’m the one who’s meant to read them.”

She shrugs. “You would’ve told us anyway.”

“What are you going to reply?” Chaewon asks. With the both of them hovering over your shoulders and watching as you type a response, a sort of stage fright comes over you, making you send what might be the most unoriginal reply known to man.

“Awesome? Seriously, Y/N?” Yunjin reads, disproportionately disgusted with you.

“That’s a lot of exclamation marks. It almost makes it look like you don’t mean it,” Chaewon says.

“I do mean it!”

“Well, he seems to like it. A smiling-with-teeth emoji is a good sign, right?” she asks in an attempt to make you feel better.

“He has automatic caps off. That man is run-through,” Yunjin says, shaking her head as she walks back to her sunbed.

“You were excited about him texting me just a second ago,” you reproach.

“Yeah, before I found out he was a whore.”

“Yunjin, you know we don't slut-shame here!” Chaewon exclaims. Before Yunjin can say anything even worse in response, your phone starts ringing, and Jake’s name appears on your screen. “He’s calling you?” Chaewon gasps, making Yunjin sit up with a start for the second time in less than five minutes.

“This man is insane,” she remarks with all the seriousness in the world.

You run away from your friends, finding refuge in the outside kitchen area out of earshot. They don’t need to hear your conversation with Jake. You love them, but they can be weirdly unsupportive in moments like these.

“Hey, Jake,” you greet, hoping he doesn’t notice the breathlessness in your voice. It was because you had just ran, of course - you didn’t want him to think you were so nervous about talking to him after such a long time, you could barely breathe. Because you weren’t. At all.

“Hey, Y/N!” he replies, and the excitement in his voice makes your heart melt. “I hope it’s not weird that I called, I just thought it’d be nicer than texting, is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s nice to hear your voice,” you say before you can really think about it, and cringe at your own words. Years without talking and the world’s worst line is the first thing you say to Jake. Thankfully, before you start excruciating yourself, a chuckle pours out of Jake’s throat and blesses your ears.

“It’s nice to hear your voice, too. What are you up to?”

“Oh, I’m on vacation with my friends. One of them has a rich aunt who owns a villa in southern Italy, so we’re just chilling by the pool right now.”

“You always wanted to go to Italy! That sounds so nice,” he says. Your breath catches gently in your throat - he remembers, you note.

“Yeah, it really is. What about you, how are you spending the summer?”

Jake tells you about the local bookstore owned by a grandpa that’s always had a soft spot for him and that gave him a part-time job for the summer. “I’m trying to save up as much money as I can before I leave. If I treat you to a meal, will you show me around the city?” he asks, and you can hear the grin in his voice. It makes you realise how much you’ve actually missed him.

“You don’t need to treat me to a meal, I’ll show you around anyway.”

Still, he insists, and you find yourself giving in quickly - because it’s Jake or because free food is on the table, you’re not sure. Probably both.

You and Jake get to talking, but fitting years and years of catching up into one conversation is an impossible task, and before you know it, when you check your phone, you’ve been talking for over an hour. Yunjin is angrily waving at you, pointing at her stomach to indicate hunger like a caveman who’s just learned how to communicate. You apologise to Jake, telling him you have to go, and plan to meet during fresher’s week before you hang up.

A few hours later, you get a text from him saying it was nice talking to you and jokingly asking whether Yunjin was satisfied with lunch. It’s innocuous, but it opens a gate for more texting, which leads to long, rambling voice messages, which leads to late-night phone calls that remind you of when you were fifteen and still kept in touch. When August fades into September, you feel like you’ve got your best friend back.

You remember why you were so in love with him at fourteen.

You see Jake before he sees you.

Among the throngs of people, you manage to spot the dark, messy flop of hair on his head weighed down by a nice pair of wireless headphones. After a thirteen-hour flight from Seoul, a four-hour layover in Frankfurt and a final, two-hour flight to Edinburgh, he looks rightfully exhausted, using what looks like the last of his energy to spot the exit and the airport bus stop. Even wearing a simple denim jacket, white tee and grey sweatpants, he’s so gorgeous you forget what you came here for, until he almost walks right past you without seeing you. You put yourself in his path and hold your hand-written banner up, making yourself as obvious as you can as you call out his name.

When he sees you, he stops dead in his tracks for a second, someone almost running into him before he remembers the crowd behind him. His tired features break out into a bright smile that has your heartbeat speeding up so much, you think it might run out of your chest.

He had told you not to come, that it would be late for you and he didn’t want to bother you, but you had managed to get the information of his arrival before he forbade you from picking him up so you did it anyway, wanting to surprise him. After years of being apart, rather than waiting another day, you wanted to see him as soon as possible.

Jake briskly makes his way to you, dropping his bags next to him on the floor as he engulfs you in a hug, warm and tight as if he’s trying to make up for all those years. You hug him back as if someone would appear out of thin air and take him away from you again.

“This was the longest day of my life, I’m so happy to see you,” he says when he pulls away, and you’re so happy you can’t even say anything back, resorting to giggling and lightly swatting non-existent dust off of his shoulders.

As you wait for the bus, he tells you about every trivial thing that happened to him on his trip, from how expensive a sandwich is at the airport to the German kid sitting in front of him that kept turning around to stare at him on his second flight.

“How did you know he was German?” you ask, amused.

Jake pauses. “Just vibes.”

Conversation on the bus is slightly disjointed as you jump from topic to topic with random pauses here and there before one of you finds something to talk about - but it’s okay, you hadn’t expected for the two of you to be as easy as before. It’s more awe at seeing each other after such a long time than awkwardness. Even though you’d caught up over summer, there was a world of difference between speaking on the phone and actually sitting next to him. You notice things like the shine of his hair, the creases that form on the sides of his lips when he smiles, or, unfortunately for you, the veins that run along his forearms and hands - things you hadn’t noticed previously thanks to the sometimes questionable quality of the front camera of his phone. Once in a while, your thigh brushes against his, and it reminds you that he’s really here. Even that he’s real, at all.

In a tragic turn of events, Jake lives in the student accommodation you used to live in in first year, and coming back to it two years later is slightly traumatising. His three-person flat is in a different building as your old one, and you marvel at how it somehow still smells the same - like dusty, decade-old carpeting and the permanent stench of students’ dubitable cooking. He’s the first one to move in, which makes the place slightly eerie, but it means that you’re not bothering anyone by unpacking Jake’s stuff and cooking Shin Ramyun the previous tenants had left behind at 11pm.

Your late dinner was meant for you to take a small break, watch a couple episodes of Friends which Jake had been shocked to learn you’d never watched, and you had been shocked to learn he was a die-hard fan of (since one year ago), then get back to unpacking. But the ramen sends an already exhausted Jake into a food coma so intense, he falls asleep on your shoulder five minutes into the second episode.

You let him sleep as long as he needs, turning the volume down on his laptop and stifling your chuckles as much as you can. You feel like a cat has fallen asleep in your lap - you are now obliged by law to stay still until Jake wakes up. It’s not until an hour later that Jake’s uncomfortable sleeping position forces him awake, lifting his head off of your shoulder with a grunt. He looks around himself, at his room that’s not quite familiar to him yet, then at you, eyes still scrunched with sleepiness as a grin blooms onto his lips.

“Sorry,” clearing his throat of its grogginess. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one a.m,” you reply, and his eyes go wide.

“You should’ve woken me up! Does your shoulder hurt?” he asks, much more alarmed than he should be, and it makes you laugh.

“It’s all good. But now that you’re awake, I should probably head home.”

“I’ll get you an Uber,” he says, already pulling out his phone.

“It’s fine, Jake, my place is a ten-minute walk from here. I live just up the road.”

Jake’s fingers on his phone pause as he looks up at you. “Then I’ll walk you home.” He lifts a finger in warning when he sees you start to protest. “And don’t fight me on this. You did so much today, it’s the least I can do.”

As much as you love the idea of spending more time with Jake, even if it’s just ten minutes, you still don’t want to bother him when you know how tired he is. “It’s really safe around here. I can just text you when I’m home, if you’re worried about me getting kidnapped or something,” you say, taking his jacket from his hands and placing it back on his desk chair.

He grabs it back, putting it on before you can take it from him again, and rummages through one of his suitcases for a black, woolly scarf. Neither of you speaks as he wraps it tight around your neck, even though the early September weather isn’t cold enough to warrant it. His hands stop briefly on the scarf and a small smile spreads on his lips. You hope he doesn’t hear your sharp intake of breath when your eyes meet. “It’s not about that,” he says simply, voice low and unlike you’ve ever heard it before. You don’t think his voice had quite finished cracking when he’d moved away back then.

Suddenly, he steps away, grabs his keys, and heads for the door. “Let’s go!” he says, voice back to its usual cheery tone. You don’t find it in you to question him, so you just follow him out, welcoming the night breeze that cools down your burning cheeks with open arms.

The walk to your place is mostly done in comfortable silence, but it still goes by too quickly for your liking. You keep your hands in your pockets to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like reaching out for Jake’s hand that swishes back-and-forth as he walks. Instead, you bury your nose in his scarf and relish in the unfamiliar but comforting smell that his cologne has left behind on the fabric. You hug goodbye when you reach your flat, and you have to remind yourself to let go. He insists on you keeping the scarf. “My mum packed me, like, three, so you can have that one.”

“Your mum still pack your things for you, does she?” you ask, tone playful.

“No-” he says, voice slightly whiny, before he realises you’re just teasing him. “Whatever,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You hope the streetlights aren’t bright enough for him to notice the flustered look on your face. The both of you stand there awkwardly for a second, before he lets out another chuckle. “Right. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you beam.

“Okay,” he says, but still doesn’t make a move to leave. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll be off then.” He gives you one last smile then turns around, burying his hands in his pockets, and you watch as he walks away.

“Get home safe,” you call out after a few seconds.

He pivots on his heels, and, with a wave of his hand, says, “I will! Go inside.”

“Good night!”

“Night, Y/N!”

When you walk into your living room, Yunjin is sitting on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, gaze trained on the wall opposite her, one lamp lighting the otherwise completely dark room. She looks like a detective in one of those bad cop shows.

“Gosh, what’s all this for?”

“You’re back awfully late,” she says, neither looking at you nor answering your question.

“Yeah, I was with Jake,” you shrug, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. She abruptly gets up from her seat, following you into the other room and staying close behind you.

“And?” she demands, mouth way too close to your ear and making you start.

“And what?” you ask.

“What do you mean and what?!” she says, clearly agitated. “I want to know everything!”

“There’s nothing to say, really. He seemed happy I picked him up from the airport, then I helped him unpack. He lives in Riego, by the way.”

“Ew.”

“I know, it was awful going back there.”

The two of you stare at each other as you drink your water. “Well?” she asks.

“What?”

“Is that it?”

You fill your glass again to take it into your bedroom. “I don’t know, we just ate and watched Friends.”

“You hate shows with laughing tracks,” she states like it’s an accusation.

“It wasn’t actually that bad,” you reply, shrugging.

She tuts. “Love will do ugly, ugly things to a person.”

“You’ve been in a loving relationship for the past two years.”

“This isn’t about me. Can we talk about how you’re still in love with the same loser from when you were ten?”

“I was fourteen, and don’t call Jake a loser when you haven’t even met him.” You ignore the roll of her eyes. “And I’m not. Not anymore. I’m just happy to have my friend back.” Yunjin gives you a look. “Okay, maybe I’m still a little bit in love with him. But it’s so little, it’s barely there.” Her expression is unchangingly unimpressed and you can’t help but throw in the towel. “Alright, fine. I still love him, what about it?”

“You’re pathetic.”

“I know that, no need to remind me.”

“Are you gonna do something about it?”

“My patheticness? I’ve tried, didn’t really work.”

“No, idiot, about Jake. You should go and get him! It’d be so sexy if you got together as 20-somethings after knowing each other since you were babies.”

“We were eight when we met. And I don’t know if sexy is the word I’d use here.”

“Anything is sexy if you try hard enough,” she says, and you have to laugh. “Anyways, you should confess your undying love and tell him you’ve felt that way since you met.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Guys might not show it, but they probably get all hot for stuff like that. Boosts their ego and shit.”

“Yunjin, I just got my friend back, I’m not gonna risk it. Plus, who knows, I might not actually be in love with him. It might just be my emotions acting up, like, seeing someone I used to like after a while. We’ve both changed so much, once I get to know him more now, I might not even feel the way I used to.”

“Notice how you’ve used the word might twice in ten seconds? You’re just trying to find excuses.”

You groan. “This is why I hate English Lit people.”

“You do English Lit.”

“I know, and I’m the only nice person that does it.” In your head, you add and Jake, but saying it out loud would only make this conversation worse for you.

“What’s that scarf, by the way? Did he give you that?”

You look down at the scarf like it’s a piece of incriminating evidence. “Can you stop grilling me, please? It’s late.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You sighed deeply. “Fine. Yes, he gave me-”

“It’s not even that cold outside!” she exclaimed in an outrage. “Don’t tell me he also walked you home?”

You pause. “He did.”

She gasped. “He walked you home because he’s in love with you.”

“He walked me home because he’s a good friend that looks after me.”

“He walked you home because he realised how hot you’ve gotten and he wants some of that.”

All you can do is sigh. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.”

“If you weren’t such a coward, you wouldn’t be going to bed alone.”

“Whatever!” you say, shutting the door behind you, shaking that preposterous conversation out of your head. When you get into bed, it takes you at least half-an-hour before you can settle down, but you know your constant tossing and turning isn’t due to your inability to find a comfortable enough position to sleep in. Between your evening with Jake and Yunjin’s pestering, thoughts run wild and incoherent through your head.

You want to tell her every little thing that happened with Jake tonight, but you’re afraid it might do you more harm than good. She is most definitely the type of friend who will take the smallest action a guy did for you or the most meaningless thing he might have said and turn it into a sign that he has the hots for you, which usually does wonders for your confidence, but right now, you don’t need that kind of delusion. Did seeing your childhood best friend you used to secretly harbour feelings for make you feel some type of way? Of course, but that doesn’t mean you still love him after all this time, after six years of being apart, the majority of those years spent with no contact. It wasn’t like you parted ways with resentment, or anything of that sort, far from it; rather, you drifted apart naturally, as two teenagers with over 7000 kilometres between them would. At first, you’d call frequently and even write each other letters - but as you became more preoccupied with school, friends, and extracurriculars, your phones gradually rang less and your mailboxes became gradually emptier. You don’t even remember who sent the last, unanswered letter.

Tonight isn’t the first time you replay the moment Jake announced that he would go away, but it’s the first time it’s a bittersweet memory. It used to only be bitter - but now that you’ve reconnected, you can look back at it with fondness, wishing you could tell fourteen-year-old you the hurt would only last so long.

It hadn’t started unusually.

“So, bad news first, right?”

In your six years of friendship with Jake, this had been the first time you’d really been wary of what he would say next. The look on his face told you that this bad news wouldn’t be as easy to shake off as usual. Your definition of bad news was things like I got grounded so I can’t hang out, I forgot we had a test tomorrow so I can’t hang out, my allergies are acting up again so I can’t hang out.

“I’m moving to Korea next month.”

I’m on another continent, so I can’t hang out.

You remember the words not quite making sense at the time. “Oh? How long are you staying there?” you said, taking a bite of your strawberry ice cream which Jake had insisted on paying for, even though you knew he didn’t get much allowance.

“Forever.”

You stopped chewing, and the ice cream melted uncomfortably in your mouth. You don’t know how long you stayed there, frozen as you stared at your best friend in disbelief. It wasn’t until he lightly shoved your shoulder, only meeting your eyes for a split second, that you remembered to swallow and to say something.

“Forever as in… You won’t live here anymore? At all?”

Jake shook his head. He kept his eyes trained on the vanilla-chocolate ice cream sandwich he’d left in its wrapper. In the blazing hot Brisbane summer, it had probably fully melted two minutes ago. “At all.”

“Oh,” was all you found yourself able to say. For some reason, you hoped that continuing to eat your ice cream would stop you from crying, but to no avail. Hot, salty tears quickly started raining down your cheeks, mixing with the sweetness of your ice cream when they reached your lips.

“It’s my dad’s work. Same reason why I moved here when we were kids in the first place. They wanted him here then, they want him back there now. We just have to follow,” Jake explained, sounding just as upset as you felt.

“Right.”

“Are you mad at me?” Jake asked, worry clear in his voice, and finally turned to face you. At the sight of you crying, he let out a small oh, tears of his own pooling in his eyes.

You frowned. “Of course not. I’m never mad at you, you know that. I just… You’re my best friend, Jakey. It’s gonna be so lame around here without you.”

“It’ll be lame there without you, too.”

You attempted a smile. “Well, of course. But at least you’ll get to make new friends, see new places. You’ll be in a whole other country, I’m sure you’ll have fun there. I’m gonna be stuck in boring old Brisbane for the foreseeable future.”

“Do you know how offended our friends would be if they heard you speaking right now?” he asked, nudging your shoulder with his.

You sniffled and let out a chuckle. “They’re all great, but… I don’t like them nearly as much as I like you,” you said, staring down at your hands, hoping he wouldn’t realise exactly what you meant by that statement.

A weight was lifted off of your shoulders when Jake answered. “I like you the most too, Y/N.” You tried not to think too much about whether he’d meant it platonically or romantically - none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of his arms around you, his warmth enveloping your whole body, his familiar scent that you already missed.

You felt him take a deep breath against you before he pulled away. He sniffled and did his best to put on a smile. “Right, enough of that. I’m not leaving until next month, so don’t think you’re rid of me just yet,” he joked, and it helped alleviate the weight on your heart, even if just a little. “You said you had something to tell me? Good news after bad news, and all that.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot about that.”

You thought for a second. Today was the day you had planned to confess your feelings to Jake - you’d only told him you had good news to share. But what was the point now that he was leaving? If he felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if he didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

Jake tilted his head, waiting for you to speak. In a split second, you made yourself forget your disappointment over having built the courage to tell him how you felt only for it all to fall through, and resolved to make the most of Jake’s last month here. You wiped your tears and mirrored his small smile as best you could. “Um, it wasn’t anything much. My mum made those cowboy cookies you like.”

Jake’s head fell back as he groaned in anticipation. “If she wasn’t happily married with three kids, I’d marry your mum. Let’s go right now.”

You laughed. “There’d be a bit of an age gap there.”

“We’d make it work,” Jake joked, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you walked towards your house. He beamed down at you, his bright, boyish smile that you loved to bits, and you beamed up at him as you grabbed the hand that hung off your shoulder in your own.

You walked as happily as you could. “Do you even speak Korean?” you suddenly asked.

Jake halted abruptly in his steps, a gravely offended look on his face. When you looked back at him in confusion, he rolled his eyes and started walking again, pulling you with him. “It’s literally my mother tongue, Y/N. I speak it every day at home.”

“Oh, right.”

At the time, you thought nothing could come between you and Jake. Not anyone, not anything, neither distance nor time. But they did. A week after he’d left, a boy from your class you’d talked to maybe once or twice asked you out on a date. You weren’t sure why, but you said yes. Then you said yes to being his girlfriend, even though you didn’t like him all that much, and you even said yes to reducing your texting with Jake because it made him jealous. When you’d broken up with him and wanted to catch up with Jake and apologise for your absence, you’d found that his new school in Seoul was a lot more demanding than yours in Brisbane, and he had to spend most of his evenings in academies if he wanted to get into a nice university. It’s when you learned that he’d be staying in South Korea for college that you decided to leave Australia too. Brisbane was a lot less fun without him there - why bother staying? You couldn’t go to him because of the language barrier and the cost of university there. If you were to essentially uproot your life, might as well go somewhere you could get a scholarship and understand the people around you.

It seemed insane that someone you had thought would be by your side for the rest of your life, someone that was part of your most cherished memories, had been reduced to someone you casually texted once in a while. It seems even more insane that now that you’re finally done essentially grieving your friendship with Jake, he stands in front of you again, six inches taller but still donning those puppy-like eyes and smile of his.

For your sake, you just hoped you wouldn’t be as in love with him at twenty as you were at fourteen.

The next day, you show Jake around campus, which wouldn’t normally take more than ten minutes, but takes double that time because of the sheer amount of people there. Between the Societies Fair taking up most of the square, the tour guides leading freshers, walking slowly and taking in their new campus, and the pizza and drinks stands, freshers’ week always turns campus into what feels like the busiest place on Earth. You try not to let it hit a nerve for Jake’s sake, who’s clearly ecstatic at all the activity, but you like this place a lot more when it’s quieter. You walk through the Fair, laughing as Jake marvels at all the different clubs and societies at the Uni.

“Gardening Society? Dungeons & Dragons Society? Wine society?” he exclaims, astonishment growing with every passing stand.

“And this is only the first day. They also have a Taylor Swift Society.” He grabs a flyer from about every society, even though you know he’ll join between two to zero of them.

When you walk out, there’s a girl handing out samples of shampoo and conditioner, and you let her give you one, more out of politeness than anything.

“These are so useless,” you start, and Jake chuckles, unaware of the incoming rant. “I had that job of distributing them last year, and we would get a tip if we gave them all out. So naturally I put a bunch in my bag, but then I had to use them for like two weeks.” You sigh. “First of all, my hair did not like it. And second, the ratio is so off. There’s way more conditioner than shampoo when it should be the other way around, so you have to condition your hair even though it’s not properly clean. So stupid.”

“Sounds terrible,” Jake says, laughing. “Is that why you’re not doing it this year?”

“Oh… Not really. I dated the guy that takes care of this promo stuff, so it would’ve been kinda awkward…” you trail, immediately wishing you could backtrack on conversation. Talking about your ex with Jake wasn’t on your to-do list for today. Or ever.

“You dated your boss?”

“The manager, yeah, I guess. He was only 24, though, don’t worry.”

“I’m more worried about the power imbalance than the age gap there.”

You shrug, looking down at your shoes. “It’s not like he was that high up.”

“So, what happened? Why did you break up?”

“Well, he acted like our four-year age difference meant he could treat me like a little kid. It was nice being taken care of at first but then I realised how condescending he was and dumped him.”

“How long were you together?”

You pause. “Two weeks,” you admit abashedly, making Jake chuckle. “At least he didn’t waste my time and showed his red flags early on.”

“Any boyfriends since?” he asks, and you wonder whether you’re making up the unsure tone of his voice. As if he’s curious, but doesn’t want to show it too much. You hope you’re not making it up.

“A few, but they never last very long with me,” you say, a meek smile on your lips. “Furthest I got was three months.”

“And why didn’t it work out with three-months-guy?”

“He started comparing me to his mum a bit too often.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, I ran out of there without looking back.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you’ve got high standards. I would hate to see you date just any loser.”

You want to say, High standards or issues?, but you don’t want to make it weird, so you play it cool instead. “I would never. I have a mental checklist with everything a guy needs to have for me to date him.”

“A checklist? I have to hear about this.”

You sigh, debating whether you should tell him about it. Would he notice it’s based on him? Would he notice the only person that could tick practically every box was none other than him? Jake gently elbows your side, goading you on. When you look at him, he’s got a shit-eating grin playing on his lips, and you give in. You look off into the distance as you start listing your requirements. “Well, there’s all your basics like funny, taller than me but not too much, ‘cause I don’t want neck cramps, smart, takes uni seriously, has plans for his future, easy to talk to, not emotionally stunted and can actually have a vulnerable conversation. It’s also a bonus if he has a nice face.”

“How much of a bonus?”

You think for a second. “It’s more a dealbreaker than a bonus, actually. Nice smile is a must, definitely.”

“Okay. Got any more specifics?”

“I do have some particular ones. It’s nice if he’s a reader, but it’s terrible if it makes him think he’s better than everyone or if he tries to sound smarter than me. I like it if he has experience, I don’t want to have to teach him everything. But obviously I don’t want him to still be in love with his ex. Guys and their first loves, I swear… I also don’t really like picky eaters.” You look over at Jake and take a double-take. He’s typing away on his phone, but because of his privacy screen protector, you can’t see anything. You huff. “I also don’t like it if he has those protective screens on his phone. What’s on there that’s so important that I can’t take a peek? What are you even doing?”

The sweet sound of Jake’s giggles erases any trace of annoyance that you felt seconds ago. He turns his screen towards you, showing the list of mostly ticked boxes that he’s written up. “See? I check most of these,” he says with a proud smile. “Guess your standards aren’t that high.” You don’t tell him that your standards are high, he’s just that amazing.

You do your best to look only amused at this even though inside, you’re all but freaking out. “Which are you missing?”

“Well, I clearly own a privacy screen. And I don’t have much experience. Not nearly as much as you, by the sounds of it,” he admits, somewhat sheepish. “But other than that, I’m practically the perfect man for you.” He looks down at you with a smile so bright, it makes you wish you had brought sunglasses. It takes everything in you not to scream right then and there. Yes, Jake, you are the perfect man for me, but I wish you wouldn’t say it like it was a joke.

You let out a stiff chuckle, and, rather than saying something stupid and possibly damaging, shift the conversation to him. “What do you mean by not much experience? Have you not dated anyone?”

Jake sighs. “Nope, not anyone. I went on a few dates, you know, went through a few talking stages and all that, but it never went much further. There was always something…” He glances at you then. “Missing.”

“I know that feeling,” you say with a chuckle, and he laughs too, a breathy sound.

“I don’t have a checklist to pinpoint what it is, though.”

You smile. “You should try, it might help.”

“I just… I guess I’m like you in that I also have high standards. But it made me not even want to give anyone a chance, especially since I knew it wouldn’t end up anywhere.”

“Don’t tell me no one has ever managed to reach the great Jake Sim’s standards?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Jake smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course someone has. She’s the whole reason I have standards in the first place. It’s not my standards I compare people to, it’s her.”

Jealousy has never made you feel as sad as it is right now. “And… it didn’t work out between you?”

Jake looks at you, eyes searching for something in yours but seemingly not finding it, and so he turns his gaze away. You don’t know why you feel so disappointed. “Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’. “She didn’t feel the same way.”

Whoever this girl is, you can’t believe how stupid she is for passing up the opportunity to have Jake Sim. “That’s… It sucks, I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t think spitting on this girl would make him feel any better, so you keep those thoughts to yourself.

“It’s okay,” he says with a small smile. “It was a while ago already.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re quite over it, though,” you say, and you’re surprised but glad to see his smile widen.

“That’s true.” His eyes meet yours again. “I don’t think I’ll be over her anytime soon, either.” You have to look away to shield the pain that flashes through your eyes from him.

Pretending you don’t have feelings for your best friend and that you’re okay with him being in love with someone else is like riding a bike: even after years of not doing it, it only takes a few minutes for you to be able to do it perfectly again. Muscle memory, if you will. So you sigh dramatically and throw your arm around Jake’s shoulder, slightly pulling him down to your level. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have so much fun this year, you’ll completely forget about her. Promise. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Yeah?”

He smiles down at you. You want nothing more but that glint of melancholy in his eyes to be gone. “Yeah.”

Jake is only half-glad to see you haven’t changed much from your childhood and early teenage years. You’re still just as pretty, just as warm; it’s still as comfortable to be around you. You’re also still as dense.

Then and now, he did everything he could to make his feelings for you very, very obvious. Either you’re completely oblivious, or the idea of dating him is so horrifying to you, you understand but pretend you don’t. He really hopes it’s the former.

He arrived in Edinburgh just a bit over a week ago, and you’ve seen each other almost every day. Out of those times, there isn’t a single one where he hasn’t tried to send something your way - something that says, hey, what if we stopped being friends and dated instead? Wouldn’t that be cool? Can’t you see how desperately I love you?, but you never latch on. The ball’s in your court, and he wants you to throw it back, but it’s been feeling more like a boomerang that always hits him right in the face when it circles back than a game of catch.

But he’s reminding himself not to be too greedy. Even if it’s just as friends, at least he has you back, so he’s satisfied with that. For now.

His first class of the year is on the following Tuesday morning, a ninety-minute seminar specifically made for exchange students called Discover Scotland. (He has Mondays free, resulting in a three-day weekend, which you and your 9am Monday tutorial are very envious of.) As interesting as the English Lit courses he’s taking seem, it’s this one he’s most looking forward to - except for the one class he shares with you, of course. Not even because of the seminars themselves, which will be about all sorts of topics on Scottish culture and history, but because of the coursework, as crazy as that sounds. It consists of a singular project, not due until the very last day of the semester, in which he has to travel to at least three different places in the country, research its background and provide a detailed account of his experience there. It can take any form: a written report, an in-class presentation, a podcast, anything. He could even film a TikTok if he wanted. Jake knew that being part of the Arts & Crafts club for two years in a row back in Seoul wasn’t for nothing - his scrapbooking skills would finally have their time to shine.

That afternoon, he practically snatches you as you come out of your lecture, giving you little time to say bye to your friends, and makes you take him to the biggest stationary store you know in the city. If he wants to ace this project, he will need supplies. Many, many supplies. And it’s more fun shopping if you’re with him. You seem happy following him around the store, and when he asks you if you want to come on his trips with him, he can pretend it’s because you seem so excited about his project and not because he had thought of you accompanying him as soon as he heard about it.

As you stand in line at the till, you tell him that if he wants to start his project now, you could go to the beach together. You raise your eyebrows at him when he snaps your head towards you. “There’s a beach here?!”

“Did you not look at a map before coming here?” you ask, amused.

“I guess I didn’t…” he says, distraught at the new information. It only lasts a second, though. “Okay, let’s go now.”

“Now?” you echo, and he nods. “But-” you start, but are interrupted by your thoughts. “I guess there’s no reason not to. The weather’s nice and it’s not like I have any uni work yet. Let’s go,” you agree, looking up at him with a smile. You’re so pretty he almost forgets to look away, until the employee calls Next in a bored drawl.

An hour later, you’re at the beach, barefoot on the sand and ice cream in hand. Strawberry for you and vanilla for him, he notes with a smile. Really not much has changed, he thinks. From the sand, to the water, to the promenade along the beach, Portobello is worlds away from the beaches back home in Australia, or those of Jeju Island. But it’s still nice, and because you’re with him, it’s even better. You’ve been walking around for an hour, splashing each other with water and mercilessly ruining sandcastles left behind before he realises you technically came here for his project. He writes down things he doesn’t want to forget on his phone and snaps a few pictures, sneaking a few of you when you’re not looking. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are with your hair blowing in the wind and the way the chill bites at your cheeks, but he keeps it a secret between him and his Notes app.

Even though he lives two stops further down, he gets off from the bus with you, containing his excitement as best he can when you invite him up for a cup of tea. “Depends. What tea do you have?” he asks, trying and failing to play it cool. He’s just grateful he doesn’t have to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you.

You roll your eyes playfully as you unlock the front door to your building. “I can make you hot chocolate, Mister Tea-Is-For-Old-People.”

He chuckles. “Actually, I’ll have you know I started drinking tea at uni.” When you turn around to look at him, a surprised look on your face, he nods proudly. “Mh-hm. I got addicted to caffeine very quickly into first year so I started drinking black tea for the sake of my heart,” he explains.

“God,” you say breathily, sounding mildly horrified. “A caffeine addiction sounds intense.”

“It was, yeah,” he says, laughing as he follows you into your flat.

Yunjin and Chaewon are sitting at the living room table, watching an episode of what he thinks is Gossip Girl, and they greet him as normally as these two can, but he wonders what the knowing look they exchange is all about. He’d met them the previous weekend when you had all gone for drinks together, along with Jay, Yunjin’s boyfriend, and they had all but grilled him on his relationship with you. He hadn’t thought much of it, chalking it up to your friends feeling protective of you, and truthfully, he was just happy to get to talk about you. But now, he was wondering if you had told them anything about him that made them so curious about him. If you did, he hoped it was something positive.

He stands awkwardly in the kitchen, chatting with you as you boil the water and get cups out, but he can feel their gazes burning the back of his head. Clearly, whatever conversation he’s having with you, he’s also having it with them. “How do you take your tea?” you ask.

“Um, three sugars and lots of milk, please,” he says, smiling innocently when you slowly turn to look at him, a mix of disapproval, disgust, and offence on your face.

You sigh deeply. “I mean, I’ll do it, but I’m not sure that’s even tea anymore.”

“You’re one to talk, Miss Caramel Frappuccino,” he says, recycling your bad joke from earlier.

“At least I don’t claim to be drinking coffee when I order a frap,” you argue. “And this is how you battled your coffee addiction? You’ll be getting another kind of heart problem, Jakey.” He doesn’t know if you even notice your use of his old nickname - the first time you’ve used it since he’s been here - but you don’t make a big deal of it, so he doesn’t either. Not outwardly, at least. Mentally, he’s running laps around your small kitchen.

Jake laughs it off. “I thought I came here for tea, not a health check-up,” he says, smile growing wider at the sight of yours.

“Right, sorry,” you say, giggling. “I’ll make your tea just how you like it,” you add in a sweet voice. Jake knows you’re just doing it as a joke, but it still manages to make butterflies erupt in his stomach.

His tea tastes even sweeter that day.

A few days after your impromptu trip to the beach, you’re waiting for Jake outside of his class. He heard of this donut shop he “absolutely needs to visit” and is dragging you along with him - well, “dragging” is a big word considering you’d follow him anywhere. You got here a few minutes early, not needing much of a reason to leave the library, so you scroll through your feed until Jake calls out your name. You’re only mildly surprised to see Jay leaving the classroom behind him.

“Y/N! Can you believe that Jay and I are in the same class?” he says excitedly as the two boys walk toward you. You feel like a dog owner being greeted by their over-enthusiastic dog after a long day (about three hours) of being apart.

“I can believe it, actually. You two do the same degree.”

You exchange quick greetings with Jay before the three of you start heading out. As you walk, Jake throws his arm around your shoulders so casually, it almost throws you off balance. Physical contact always came easy to him, but there’s something about him doing it next to someone else that catches you off guard. It reminds you of walking somewhere with Jay and Yunjin as they discretely held hands. It makes you feel like it’s not the three of you, but Jay with the two of you. Like you and Jake come as a pair rather than as two individuals.

All of that from a simple arm around your shoulders.

Jake asking you in a very unsubtle whisper whether Jay can come with brings you out of your head and back into the conversation. “Yeah, of course,” you say, smiling. It’s not a bad idea to have Jay along: hanging out with someone else might snap you out of your delusion.

Most of the walk to the shop is done in laughter as Jake and Jay realise how much random stuff they have in common, from their peanut allergies to the embarrassing Harry Potter phase they had as fifteen-year-olds. Grassmarket is really busy on Friday afternoons, and there’s a bit of a queue of other donut-enjoyers in front of the boutique, but you don’t mind. The sun is shining down gently on the square and it gives you time to choose your donut out of the ten or so flavours available. In the end, you go for white chocolate and raspberry, while Jake chooses Biscoff and Jay, tiramisu.

“My friend Sunghoon would love this,” he says after taking a hearty bite. “He goes crazy over tiramisu. Like a cat with catnip.”

Jake chuckles, mouth full of Biscoff. “That’s funny, I also have a friend named Sunghoon who loves tiramisu back in Seoul.”

Jay punches Jake’s shoulder, eyes wide in amusement and shock. “Bro, that’s crazy. You have to be lying at this point,” he says, but Jake shakes his head fervently.

“I promise I’m not. I’ve even saved his number with the tiramisu emoji.”

“There’s a tiramisu emoji?” Jay asks, already over questioning the existence of Jake’s Sunghoon.

The conversation circles back to the courses you’re all taking this semester, and Jake tells Jay about Discover Scotland and the trips he’s planned so far. “Well, if you really want to discover Scotland as a student, you need to go on a night out in Glasgow,” Jay says. Going by the look on Jake’s face, Jay’s idea seems to have struck a chord in him.

“Y/N?”

You nod, finishing your mouthful of donut before speaking. “Yeah, Glasgow’s really fun. We should go,” you say, laughing when the two boys high-five in victory. Between the train, the drinks and the club entry, going out isn’t a cheap ordeal, and getting to and fro also takes a while - even so, the smile on Jake’s face makes it worth it.

He wipes some raspberry jam from the corner of your mouth, shooting you a wink, and you want to disintegrate right then and there, become one with the bench you’re sitting on and never have to face him again. The conversation resumes as Jay tells Jake about all the best places to go out in Glasgow, but you don’t hear a word - the feeling of Jake’s thumb so close to your lips takes away your ability for coherent thought.

“It’s decided, then. We’re going out tomorrow night,” Jay loudly announces. “Let me gather the troops.”

That’s how you find yourself in line for the club the next day, already tipsy from pre-drinking on the train and at the pub. It’s still warm enough for you and the girls to wear as little clothing as you want, but Jake insisted on giving you his flannel jacket anyway. If not for the warmth it brings, you’re glad to have his scent enveloping you.

The five of you work exceptionally well together. You, Chaewon and Yunjin have been a given since you met in first year, and Jay and Yunjin went so well together that he was but a natural addition to your little group. Jake’s only been here for over a week, but it’s like he’s always been around, and you couldn’t be happier about it. Him and Jay hit it off immediately, and although the girls needed some time to warm up to him (it’s not everyday that you meet your friend’s ex-best-friend she’s practically always been in love with; you understand why they might’ve been wary at first), they now tease him just as relentlessly as they do Jay. He takes it like a champ.

For a little while, you watch your friends speaking over each other, bickering over nothing, a smile on your face. Two pints of cider and some of Jay’s fancy vodka have made you more grateful than ever for them - if you drink too much in the club, you’ll be hugging them and crying about how much you love them. You’re not sure what that might look like around Jake, so you decide to keep yourself in check for the night.

It takes about thirty minutes before you manage to get into the club. It’s not coat check season yet, so you head straight to the bar. “Sunghoon said he’d meet us here,” Jay says, lifting his head to spot his friend in the sea of drunk students. “Oh yeah, there he is! Hoon, hey!”

You hear a loud “Jongseong!” being shouted from somewhere in the crowd, but you’re not sure who Jay is waving at until a boy whose face is mostly eyebrows is standing - well, standing as best as he can, with the copious amount of alcohol he’s obviously already consumed - in front of you. He gives Jay a hug and the three of you a nod of his head, a lopsided smile on his face. When he turns to Jake, his eyebrows lift first, then his face breaks into a wide grin.

“Jake, my man!” he shouts, taking a stunned Jake’s hand and bringing him into a hug.

“Sunghoon? What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, chuckling and frowning in confusion.

“I’m just partying, man! Same as you!”

“No, I mean here in Scotland, you dumbass!”

“You two know each other?” Jay asks, looking back and forth between his two friends.

“Jake’s my man!” Sunghoon exclaims, unhelpful and stumbling as he throws an arm around his man’s shoulders. Jake shoots you a distressed look but you just laugh at him.

“This is Tiramisu Sunghoon I told you about,” Jake says, helping Sunghoon stand up straight.

“God, what I would do for a tiramisu right now,” Sunghoon says, looking at Yunjin like she might relate. She chuckles awkwardly.

“I have no idea what he’s doing in Scotland, though. Hoon, I thought you were going to NYU for your exchange?”

Sunghoon pauses to think for a second, looking like he’s never heard of NYU in his life. “Oh, that! Yeah, I did an online orientation thing and… it did not go well. Let’s just say there’s someone in New York City who wants me dead,” he says conspiratorially. You all stare at him but he gives no further explanation. On your right, you hear Yunjin whisper what the fuck under her breath. “So I transferred here instead!”

“I didn’t know you were an exchange student,” Jay says, still looking just as confused.

“Yeah, man! But anyways, let’s not talk about uni right now. I’m on a bender, day three, baby! Do not talk to me tomorrow,” he says, chuckling until the smile suddenly drops from his face. “I mean that.” You look around yourself, glad to find everyone is just as baffled as you. “Let’s party!” Sunghoon cheers, intoxicated grin back on his lips. Jake and Jay follow, but you and the girls stay back for a second, taking in everything that has just happened.

“That. Is the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” Chaewon blurts, staring blankly at the spot Sunghoon stood in a second ago.

“Yeah, he also seems to be a raging alcoholic. And he’s what, twenty-one?” Yunjin says, a scowl on her face.

“I could fix him.”

“Okay, let’s go,” you say, grabbing your friends by their wrists before either of them can say something worse.

Feeling generous, Sunghoon buys shots for all six of you, and you quickly down them before heading to the dancefloor. On your way there, a group of sober-looking girls hand Chaewon a giant, still almost full jug of red liquid, something that costs at least twelve pounds here. They say they’re leaving and don’t need it anymore, smiling as you profusely and astonishedly thank them. You look at your friends, mentally weighing the risk and drugging possibility this might present, but shrug and pass the jug around after taking hearty sips anyway. It tastes so much like fizzy cherries that you wonder if it even contains any alcohol, but sure enough, twenty minutes later, the three of you are spinning around on the dancefloor, screaming the lyrics to your favourite pop songs at the top of your lungs. Jake at a club is a completely foreign sight to you, and you can’t stop laughing at all the silly moves he pulls.

You’re shaking your whole body to a Nicki song from the early 2010s when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. Before you can turn around and slap whoever this random man is that thinks he can touch you, a familiar voice whispers it’s just me in your ear, and you simultaneously relax and tense up knowing that Jake is standing right behind you. “There’s a creep staring at you,” he explains, lips and breath gently tickling your ear as he speaks. You look around the room and quickly notice a man standing in a corner, drink in one hand and the other in his pocket, unmoving as he eyes you with a smirk so slimy it makes your stomach turn. To avoid his gaze, you turn around, but you’re not sure the sight you’re met with is much better for you.

Jake peers down at you, eyes slightly glossed over and cheeks flushed from the alcohol, jaw locked in annoyance. He glances at the guy in the corner, who you assume is still staring when you feel Jake’s hands brush along your sides until they reach your waist. His gaze returns to your face as he brings you a step closer to him. Reflexively, you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Is this okay?” he mouths. All you can do is meekly nod. You watch as his eyes deliberately scan your face, going down and down. Time stills when they reach your lips and stay there. It’s like someone has put the booming music of the club on mute, and the only thing you can hear is your heart loudly beating in your ears. You suddenly feel very sober.

You swear Jake’s face is slowly inching its way towards yours when you’re abruptly taken away. Yunjin has grabbed you by the forearm, leading you and Chaewon to the bathroom as she chants “Bathroom break! Bathroom break!”, clearly unaware of the moment she’s just interrupted.

Because of the queue for the girls’ bathroom and Chaewon’s decision to console this random girl who was in the middle of a breakdown, it’s not until half-an-hour later that you emerge back into the crowd. You spot the boys at a table, two empty shots each in front of them and all three with a beer in hand. They will not be happy checking their bank accounts tomorrow morning.

“Y/N! You’re back!” Jake calls out happily when he spots you, and you can tell right away that he’s much drunker than when you left him. His whole face is flush, his eyes don’t open quite all the way, and a lopsided smile won’t leave his lips - even like this, he’s so pretty that you want to grab his hand and take him somewhere it’s just the two of you.

Chaewon gets drinks for the three of you and then you’re dancing again. It’s already one am at this point, and the remaining two hours until the club closes, fueled with alcohol and good music, go by in a flash. Before you know it, the DJ is playing All of Me by John Legend and the lights have been turned on, clear signs that you’re overstaying your welcome. The few people that have made it to closing time stumble out of the club and into the street, heading for either the nearest subway stop or the next party of the night. Since there are no trains at this time, your group walks to the close-by bus station, listening to Jake and Sunghoon grumble about how the clubs in Seoul don’t close until at least five or six and how trains run all night there.

The bus is already at the station when you get there, and the driver doesn’t seem too pleased about having six mildly drunk kids get on his bus, but he’s probably used to questionable people taking public transport at this time of the day anyway. Physically, Sunghoon is sitting across from you, but mentally, he’s off somewhere far, far from this bus. With his head against the window and mouth wide open, saliva pooling at the corner of his lips, he looks like he’s any second away from obnoxiously snoring. Jay and Yunjin are sitting somewhere you can’t see them, probably eating each other’s faces; she once told you they had their “most mind-blowing sex” when both a little drunk, and much to your dismay, you haven’t been able to get that piece of information out of your head since. Chaewon is on the phone to her long-distance bestie Sakura, for whom it’s a nice eleven in the morning right now.

This means that you and Jake are left alone, both of you still tipsy and not tired enough to fall asleep. You drop your head on Jake’s shoulder, and not only does he let you, he also takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers and placing them atop his thigh. Clumsily, because he now has to use his left hand, Jake slips his phone out of his back pocket and shows you the photos he took all evening. As the night progresses, they get blurrier and blurrier, so much so that towards the end, you can’t tell what he was even trying to capture, and you laugh at how inappropriate some of these would be to submit in a university project.

When he softly says your name, you don’t raise your head, simply humming to let him know you’re listening. You close your eyes, cherishing the way your name sounds on his lips. It’s his tone, tentative and vulnerable as he tells you there’s something he’s been wanting to ask you, that makes you look up at him. He, however, won’t meet your eyes, and settles his gaze on the window, even though it’s so dark outside you can’t make out a thing.

“How come you never replied to my letter? I know it’s been ages, but… I still find myself wondering about it.” The question is softly asked and you know he by no means wants to hurt you, but it still feels like a punch to the throat. You hadn’t remembered who it was that had sent the last letter, while he’d been wondering all these years why his words had been left unanswered.

He seems set on not looking at you, so you rest your head back on his shoulder. Your hand is still in his. “I’m not sure, Jakey. I’m sorry,” you say, aware it’s not a satisfying answer. You’ve thought about why you and Jake had stopped talking for hours on end; you’ve discussed it with your friends and your mum, looked at it from all sorts of angles, tried to come up with real reasons other than time pulling you apart. But now that Jake himself is asking you about it, the words don’t come easy. You’ve theorised that you were afraid putting effort into sustaining your friendship would only hurt you in the end, because it was just that - a friendship. You could fool yourself into thinking you were okay only being friends with him when he was with you, that putting your feelings aside was worth it since you could at least spend time with him. But now that he was away, you didn’t have that anymore - it just hurt. So what was the point? And how could you phrase all this without betraying your feelings for him?

“Our letters were so sparse anyway back then, even our texts and calls were getting less and less frequent… And whenever I had a new boyfriend, I’d get into the same argument about being too close to you over and over again, even though you were literally on another continent.”

“You know, I always felt sorry about that.”

“About what?”

“Those boyfriends of yours. I felt like you waited for me to leave before you started dating-”

“It wasn’t like that!” you exclaim, lifting your head again. Finally, he meets your eyes, gaze softening upon seeing your affronted expression. “It wasn’t like that,” you repeat, relaxing your tone. “If anything, they were the ones that waited for you to be gone. I'm sorry I let their jealousy get to me.”

Jake smiles, the tenderness in his gaze making your whole body turn to jelly. He squeezes your hands. “It’s okay. I just… I felt like I was always in the way of your relationships, even after I left.”

“You don’t have to feel sorry about that. They should’ve had more trust in me.”

He pauses, gaze dropping down to your intertwined hands. “I would’ve been jealous.” When his eyes find yours again, there’s something in them that you quite can’t place. It creates a ball of nerves that pull at your stomach. “If I were dating you, and you had a guy friend you were as close with as we were back then, I’d be jealous. You know, I’d assume he had feelings for you. And that you might have feelings for him, too.”

Because I did, you think. I did, and I still do. You try to communicate that thought to Jake, but telepathy works especially bad when one has as much alcohol coursing through their veins as you do right now. So instead, you say the opposite of what you’re thinking, turning away from Jake to avoid his gaze. You watch the dribble of saliva trickle from Sunghoon’s lips. “That’s not a great view of male-female friendship.”

Jake’s retort comes immediately. “But we were different, right?”

His words echo through your head until they make even less sense than they did initially. Different from what? From who? You’re not sure - but you like the idea of you and Jake being different, special. You especially like the idea of Jake thinking so. So you look at him and smile. “Right.”

Slowly, his grin fades and turns into a worried expression. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“We’re still different now, aren’t we?”

You want to wrap him in your arms so tightly neither of you can breathe. You settle for running a hand through his hair and pinching his cheek. “Course we are.” Your whole being relaxes when his face breaks into a smile again.

The next morning, you wake up to Yunjin plopping down on your bed unceremoniously, shaking you awake, and asking you if you want anything from Snax Café. On one hand, you’re grateful that she thought of you and that in thirty minutes’ time, you’ll have the greasiest sausage wrap and hash browns known to man in your hand; on the other, you’d like to think that she knows you well enough to know to order your regular from there without asking. But that’s probably the hangover talking.

You stumble out of bed, thanking last night’s you for having remembered to take headache medicine before crashing. Even if your stomach is very upset with the copious amount of alcohol it needs to rid your body of, and your throat is begging for water, at least your head doesn’t feel like it’s been split into two. As Yunjin barges into Chaewon’s room just as she had done yours, you head for the kitchen to get yourself a tall glass of revitalising tap water. You’re only mildly surprised to find Sunghoon passed out on your living room couch - it takes you a few seconds to remember that the three of you took pity on him when you learned he lived over an hour’s walk from the station, so you let him spend the night on your uncomfortable, cold leather sofa. While you down your glass in three gulps, you hear Yunjin shaking Sunghoon awake and asking him loudly if he wanted something from Snax.

“Fuck, I’d kill for a Snax right now,” he groggily says before he’s even opened his eyes. When he does, they dart around the room until they land on Yunjin, who's crouching in front of him. He looks like he thought her question was asked in a dream and not in real life. He also looks like he's not quite sure where he is, or who Yunjin is. It isn’t until Jay comes wobbling out of Yunjin’s bed to the couch opposite Sunghoon that the memories seem to piece back together in his head. The three of you watch him like he’s an unstable mental patient and you’re his doctors.

“No need for that, I’m ordering it on Deliveroo.” He nods his head and goes back to sleep for the time being.

Just as you’re about to text Jake, your phone rings with a call from him. His raspy morning voice as he asks you whether you slept well makes you want to put your head in an oven heated at 200 degrees Celsius. However, you resist the urge, and answer him with a smile, then ask him the same question.

“I slept pretty well too. I’d have slept in longer but one of my flatmates decided to have a Sunday fucking brunch and his friends are so loud. Can I come over?”

You’re very aware of the other people in the room, especially of Chaewon who has just walked in and is eyeing you suspiciously as if to say, Why are you smiling so hard at ten in the morning? You know the girls would jump at any opportunity to tease you about Jake, and with the added presence of Sunghoon in the room, you can’t have that. So you stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat and answer as nonchalantly as you can. It also gives you the chance to reflect on why Jake Sim asking you whether he can come over makes you want to giggle like a giddy schoolgirl so much.

(Maybe it’s because when it comes to him, you’re still the giddy schoolgirl you used to be.)

“Yeah, of course. I was going to ask you if you wanted anything from Snax, actually.”

“Snax? What’s that?”

“Oh my God, Jake, am I about to introduce you to Snax right now?”

Twenty minutes later, the six of you are sitting around your small living room table, all varying amounts of tired, dehydrated and famished as you dig into your breakfast. Given your current levels of energy, it’s fairly quiet; plus, the food hits such a spot that it’s hard to talk and eat at the same time. Jake eats like he’s never had a breakfast wrap and hash brown in his life. It’s an endearing sight if you’ve ever seen one.

You spend the afternoon together, watching movies curled up in your bed, and you try desperately not to think about the implications of that - except that’s hard to do when Jake is right next to you, legs and arms ever-so-slightly brushing against yours, his warmth so close yet so out of reach. You purposefully let him pick movies you’ve already seen so that you don’t have to focus on anything but your own thoughts and the faint but dizzying scent of his body wash. The both of you had an innumerable amount of sleepovers as kids, so this shouldn’t feel weird, but it decidedly does, probably because you’re much more aware of him now in a way you weren’t before.

As hard as you try to figure out what exactly he meant by “different,” you draw a blank. The only way you’ll understand is if you ask him, and you’re far too scared to do that. You don’t want to seem so hung upon a singular word he used when he was tipsy. It might be slightly dramatic, but you felt like some sort of balance had been restored since Jake was back in your life - the problem was it made you scared to do anything that might threaten this newfound equilibrium. It at least seems like different means a good thing to him, and that’s enough for you.

You look over to him when the second movie comes to an end. He’s sleeping peacefully, lashes caressing the skin under his eyes and cheeks looking rounder than usual. It’d be so easy to reach a finger out and trace the line descending from the top of his forehead to his chin, gliding along the bump of his nose and feeling the plumpness of his rosy lips, but you settle for drawing that line with your eyes instead.

You don’t think you’ll be able to fall asleep with him next to you and your heart beating so loudly in your ears, but you find yourself waking up a few hours later, the sun already starting to set. Jake is already awake, scrolling on his phone, one arm casually behind his head as if being in your bed is as comfortable to him as being in his own. When he sees you’ve woken up, his honey-coated smile washes warmly over you, and he makes a joke about how he keeps on falling asleep when he’s with you. “I feel that at ease, I guess,” he says, and you hope you’re not making up the small blush that spreads over his cheeks.

Semesters are always a short and intense affair, but this one passes by even quicker with Jake by your side. Before you know it, it’s midterms already, and you and Jake have travelled enough for him to complete his project and make another one just for the hell of it. He had scoured the internet for the cheapest train tickets and most noteworthy sites, planning trips that lasted anywhere between three hours and a day for the two of you. All you needed to do was follow and trust him, which was the easiest thing anyone could’ve asked of you.

You’ve gone back to Glasgow, during the day, this time, as well as St. Andrews and Aberdeen. You’ve practically visited every loch and castle in a one-hour train ride radius of Edinburgh, and Jake has more lined up for the second part of the semester. He’s even said that your trips should continue being a thing next term, and you couldn’t have agreed faster. With every new destination, every train ride spent looking out a window or laughing about everything and anything, any odd Scottish food you try for the first time, you somehow fall for him a bit deeper. You didn’t know your love for him could bloom any more than it already had - but Jake is the gift that keeps on giving, and, unwillingly or not, he always finds new ways to make your heart speed that much faster.

Attentionate, affectionate, sweet Jake who always makes sure you’re comfortable wherever you go, always gives you his jacket or tucks your hair behind your ear to prevent it from falling in your face. Who, as time passed, grew more touchy, would hold your hand, ruffle your hair, pinch your cheek, which was simultaneously devastating and elating. Who, you could tell, started to linger more, both in his touch and in his gaze. Questions of does he love me back or am I seeing what I want to see? nearly drove you mad.

“I feel like at this point the only way she’ll understand that I like her is if I kill myself and write in my suicide note that it’s her fault for not loving me back.”

Jake has been pacing back and forth in Jay’s living room for approximately twenty minutes, with no end in sight. At least he’ll have gotten most of his ten thousand steps of the day in.

Jay sighs heavily. “Okay, I really don’t think you need to go that far.”

“Sounds romantic to me,” Sunghoon says, mouth full of salted caramel popcorn.

“I hope you never get a girlfriend,” Jay retorts, looking at his deranged friend with a scowl. He turns back to his (slightly more) normal friend and gives him a sympathetic smile.

“I mean, I told her we were different. Different. That we weren’t like regular friends. I tell her she’s pretty every chance I get. I give her my jacket all the time, even though this country is fucking cold. I’ve even given her a t-shirt of mine, sprayed with my perfume and everything. And don’t get me wrong, I do it ‘cause I love doing that for her-”

“Simp,” Sunghoon snickers.

“But what the hell else can I do? Like, she has to be ignoring it on purpose at this point.”

“You could always, you know… tell her?”

Jake scoffs, fixing his friend with a derisive look. “Wow. What a great idea, Jay, I never thought of that one before!”

A popcorn lands right on Jay’s cheek. “You’re so clueless, man,” Sunghoon says, a shit-eating smirk on his lips. As if he knows any better.

Jay looks back-and-forth between his friends, an expression on his face like he’s been disparaged. “Sorry, I didn’t know being straightforward and honest was such a bad thing. It would just make things a lot clearer for the both of you.”

“But… I’m scared,” Jake says.

“Man up!” Sunghoon suddenly yells, punching the sofa next to him, making his friends jump. “How can she ever figure it out if you don’t tell her?”

“You were on my side just a second ago, man, what are you doing?” Jake asks, confusion written all over his face. Sunghoon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two boys, retreating into silence as he stuffs his mouth with another handful of popcorn.

“Just ignore him,” Jay says. “But for once, he did say something that makes a modicum of sense. You think you’re being really obvious, but you might not actually be. Which could be a good sign, you know. I heard girls were super aware of a guy liking them if they weren’t into him, but being totally oblivious if they did like him.”

“Where did you hear that?” Jake asks, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“...Instagram Reels,” Jay reluctantly admits, frowning at Sunghoon who bursts into laughter.

Jake holds the bridge of his nose between two fingers like his head aches. “You’re both so useless, I’m never coming to you with my problems ever again.”

“I’ll pretend I’m not offended by that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, anyway,” Sunghoon says. He’s smiling but Jake genuinely can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“But seriously, if you think you’ve done everything, then just do one last thing that’s so obvious she can’t misinterpret it,” Jay says.

“Like what?”

“Like kissing her, or some-”

“Kissing her?!” Jake echoes.

“That’s wild, man,” Sunghoon uselessly butts in.

“It’s just an example, calm yourselves,” Jay says. “Or, again, just straight up tell her how you feel. It’s what I did with Yunjin, and it worked.”

“You and Yunjin are dating?” Sunghoon asks, bewildered.

Jay shakes his head at him. “Where the hell have you been, bro? We were literally cuddling on the couch the other day.”

“I just thought you were really good friends, or something.”

Jake groans, holding his head in his hands. Sunghoon was of no help whatsoever, and Jay was so on point that it annoyed him. Confessing was the only solution - but Jake was so afraid of being rejected and losing your friendship that he had barely entertained the thought. But he had found the courage to do it once, and even though his planned confession had fallen through back then, he could get himself together and do it again.

It was the day he had told you he was moving to Korea, which he himself had learned that morning. Originally, he’d texted you because he had news to share - good news. Or at least, he hoped they were good. He hoped the soft, lingering looks you gave him weren’t a figment of his imagination but rather the confirmation he needed that you liked him back. He hoped that like him, you cared too much about your friendship to make the first move into something else; that by confessing first, you’d be relieved of that responsibility; that his wish to hold your hand and kiss your forehead wasn’t one-sided.

He decided not to prepare anything - just a couple sentences that he’d rehearsed over and over in his head. Declarations of love, bouquets of flowers, chocolate and couple keychains, all that could wait until after you’d said yes to being his girlfriend. He didn’t want to win you over just once, he wanted to show you every day how much he loved you. Fourteen-year-old Jake was absolutely head over heels for you; so imagine his disappointment when, as he was getting ready to meet with you, his parents called him downstairs, a tone to their voice Jake wasn’t familiar with, but that couldn’t mean anything good.

“Your dad’s job is sending us back to Seoul next month,” his mom announced, not beating around the bush. He felt everything quite literally crumbling down around him. His friends in Brisbane, his school, his hobbies, but above all, you. He’d lose it all. And what was the point now in telling you how he felt? If you felt the same way, it would only make his departure that much harder, and if you didn’t, it would ruin your last moments together. It just wasn’t worth it.

What he had planned to be good news turned into the most awful ones. The thought of it happening all over again makes twenty-year-old Jake shudder. But he wouldn’t let himself be trapped by time again - sure, in seven months, the academic year would be over, and he would go back to Korea. But that didn’t mean that those seven months should be spent in agony, or the following ones either, for that matter. You would make it work. What was long-distance to someone who loved someone else as much as Jake loved you?

But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. He has to start by really resolving to do this, and in the off-chance that it actually goes in his favour, he’d start worrying about long distance then.

First, he has a trip to plan.

You should’ve known that a trip to the Scottish Highlands in the middle of November was a risky choice in terms of weather. The day started off nicely enough - no sign of rain when you woke up or as you watched the sunrise through the train window. Clouds turned the sky a bright white at first, then increasingly greyer and greyer. You feel the first drops of rain after lunch as you walk around a small village. By four pm, it’s pitch black and storming like you’ve rarely seen before. You head into a pub to grab a drink as you wait for the rain to subside, but subside it does not. You end up ordering fish and chips, one each, although one serving is enough to feed three. Even after taking your time eating, the bad weather does not let up. The last train, which is meant to be at eight pm, has been cancelled. Luckily, there’s an inn right across the road from the pub; you have no choice but to spend the night.

The inn receptionist is sitting so low on her chair, you can barely see her over the desk until you’re standing right over it. Her face is hidden by a book and it’s only when you say hiya that she seems to realise you’re there. You had never heard of the book or of its author, but you recognized the cover design as that of those romance novels with repetitive plots and weirdly misogynistic love interests your mum and every other middle-aged woman was obsessed with.

Her smile widens as she looks between you and Jake. “Hi there. One room for the lovely couple?”

“Oh, we’re not-”

“Yes, please,” Jake interrupts, smiling down at her, then at you. “It’ll be cheaper if we share a room.”

“Our only room with two single beds is already taken, I’m afraid. One double bed okay for you two?”

You feel like you’re about to faint, so you’re glad Jake is there to answer. “Yeah, of course.” How the idea of sharing one bed with you is so okay to him, you’re not sure - granted, you’ve done it before, but this feels different. For all intents and purposes, this is a hotel room you’re staying in. And you’re staying in it with Jake.

You try to calm your breathing as the receptionist guides you to your room, chatting casually with Jake on the way there. As she unlocks the door for you, she informs you that check-out must be done before eleven in the morning tomorrow, then bids you good night and leaves you to it, still wearing that smile you swear has mischievousness to it. The door clicks shut behind you, and it’s just Jake and you again, together in this small room until tomorrow morning. Your chances of survival are very, very low.

Your room is a humble one, consisting of a desk, a cupboard, two armchairs, a small, separate bathroom and the infamous bed. Every surface seems to be covered with wood, from the ceiling, to the walls, to the old-fashioned furniture. Only the floor is a soft, beige carpet. Especially with the darkness outside, it makes for a gloomy room until you turn on the lamp by the entrance; it casts a warm, golden light in the room, one that would make you feel at ease if it wasn’t for Jake’s presence next to you. The implications of being essentially trapped in a barely-lit room with him are heavy on your mind, especially when he looks this gorgeous with his hair still damp from the rain and the soft lights playing on his face.

His voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Right. Do you, um, do you wanna shower first?” he asks, setting his bag on one of the armchairs.

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” There has never been such an awkward tension between the two of you, but you know you’re not doing anything to ease it. You hope a shower will help you get out of your head and make you relax.

You feel the tension leave your muscles under the hot water, but your stomach is still in knots. You’ve never been this nervous around Jake before; back when you were fourteen and again in these past few months, you’d gotten so used to dealing with your unspoken feelings for him that you could almost forget about them when you were with him. They’d come back to you when you were alone and dwelling on the moments you’d spent together, on his words and actions you desperately tried not to read too much into but always ended up doing anyway. But right now, they’ve floated to the surface, becoming as obvious to you as a stain on your skin you can’t rub away. You’re scared Jake will notice it, and, in the worst case scenario you often thought about, would run away and never speak to you again.

At least the raging storm outside would make that a bit harder.

When you step out of the shower, you curse yourself for not having worn more comfortable clothes on this trip. You definitely can’t wear these jeans and button-up sweater to lounge around. Thankfully, the inn provides two long bathrobes that you could wear over underwear and your tank top, but you wonder where on the scale of inappropriate this would be to wear with Jake in the room. He’s seen you in short pyjama shorts before, but this, like everything else that would usually be normal between the two of you, feels weird today.

You wrap the bathrobe around yourself, tying it in place around your waist, and decide that it’d only be weird if you made it weird. And if Jake found the sight of your bare legs weird, then he was the weird one.

The scene you’re met with as you walk into the room makes you want to retreat into the bathroom immediately. Jake is lying on the bed with his upper half against the headboard, one leg extended and the other one bent, resting his head against one palm, using his free hand to scroll through his phone. His t-shirt has ridden up slightly, putting the waistband of his Calvin Kleins into view. Worst of all, when he sees you, his face breaks into a grin.

Your stomach twists when he gives you a once-over, letting his gaze linger on your legs. “Did you bring a bathrobe with you or was it included?” he asks with an annoyingly handsome smirk.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I bring a bathrobe with me wherever I go,” you say sarcastically. “Now shut up and go shower, you stink.” Reverting to insults is always the solution when you’re internally freaking out.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He takes so long in the shower that by the time he comes out, you’ve dozed off in bed. As if you were a child, he wakes you up with a boop to the nose, crouching next to the bed and smiling at you. His wet hair falls on his head like that of a movie star in a shower scene, which you find extremely unfair, and his cheeks are red from the warmth of the water.

“It’s still early. Do you wanna go grab another drink?”

“In our bathrobes?” you say, laughing. “Nah, I don’t really feel like drinking anyway.” Read: I’m not sure what I’ll do with alcohol in me.

“Okay, no worries. Um, I think I saw they had board games in the lobby?”

Your ears perk up at this. “Ooh, what kind of board games?”

Putting jeans on underneath his bathrobe, Jake slips away for a minute and comes back with Monopoly, Uno, and a deck of cards. “They didn’t have much for two players,” he says, dumping everything on the bed.

You already knew that anything would become fun if you did it with Jake, but you definitely didn’t expect to spend almost five hours just playing Monopoly and card games with him. Neither of you stays put for very long, always switching from sitting criss-cross to laying on your stomach, making fun of the other’s bathrobe even though you’re wearing the exact same thing. You make each other laugh as you make up your own nonsense rules and disregard the laws of your games, attacking the other ruthlessly for a couple extra points or coins. Jake even makes you go get snacks from a corner store that’s miraculously still open because you lose the first round of Uno.

After some time, Jake lets out a loud yawn, which in turn makes you yawn too. He checks his phone to find that it’s close to midnight already. “Time for bed?” he asks, and your nervousness that had finally dissipated as you played came rushing back.

You nod. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The two of you clean up before brushing your teeth. Even that, with Jake by your side, becomes a silly affair as he pulls faces in the mirror and nudges your hip with his. You stay behind to use the toilet, and when you come back out, Jake’s already in bed, bathrobe tossed on one of the armchairs. This means that Jake is just casually in a t-shirt and boxers, waiting for you to join him in bed. Luckily, his back is turned to you, so you quickly take off your own bathrobe and slide under the sheets, careful to keep your distance from him. The sheets are cold underneath you, and you know it’ll take a while before your body heat warms them up - although you feel very hot and bothered because of the man lying next to you.

“Gosh, I’m really sleepy all of a sudden,” he says, words distorted by a yawn. You only hum in response, and he reaches for the lamp to turn it off. Just like that, you’re in complete darkness, and Jake’s body is mere inches from your own.

It’s eerily quiet for a while, and when you’ve managed to slow your heartbeat and regularise your breathing, you start trying to fall asleep. You toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position until Jake’s low, sleepy voice breaks the silence. “Can’t sleep?” he asks, and you freeze.

You sigh. “No. I’m sorry for keeping you up,” you say guiltily.

“It’s okay. I can’t really sleep either. It’s a bit cold in here.”

You pause. “Right. Yeah, it is,” you say, even though you feel like you’re sweating buckets.

The room plunges into silence again, long enough for you to think Jake has fallen asleep. You feel something cold against your foot, only realising as it slides up your calf that it’s his foot. “Jake!” you whisper-yell, withdrawing your leg as he bursts into giggles that warm your heart. “Your feet are so cold,” you say in-between chuckles.

“I’m cold all over,” he whines. “Have they not turned the heating on yet? It’s already mid-November.”

“People are used to the cold here.”

“Well I’m not. Can we cuddle?” he suddenly asks, and he must somehow feel the way you freeze in place because he stammers out a justification straight away. “For, I mean, just for warmth, you know. I don’t think I’ll sleep otherwise.”

His foot finds yours again and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, fine,” you say with a sigh as if you were doing only half-heartedly for his sake. As if this was some big sacrifice you were making, and not something you’d daydreamed about one too many times before.

Your heart is beating a thousand miles a second when you scooch closer to Jake, his hands finding your waist as easily as if they’d been there a hundred times before. He pulls you in much closer than you had expected, holding you tightly against his chest, one arm for you to use as a pillow and one hand resting on your lower back. You try to calm your respiration so that he can’t hear how short of breath you are, but based on his own breathing, he seems to be out in five minutes. It takes you longer to fall asleep, every shift of his body sending shivers down your spine, but you manage to relax after some time, letting his warmth envelop you as you drift off to sleep.

The feeling of waking up with you in his arms is so unreal, Jake thinks he might still be dreaming.

He looks down at your peaceful sleeping face and can’t stop the smile that spreads on his lips. Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but this is a sight he particularly wants to commit to memory. He watches fondly as the bright sun rays of the early morning hit your face, making you scrunch your eyebrows and bury your face deeper against him. You grunt softly, and when he feels you shifting and stretching your legs, he pretends to fall asleep so you don’t catch him staring. It seems like you’ve raised your head, chin tilted towards him - if he’s lucky, you’re watching him “sleep” just like he did seconds ago.

He contains a smile at the joke that forms itself in his brain before shooting his eyes open, catching you off guard during what you thought was a private, secret moment.

“Shit!” you yelp, practically jumping off of him and rolling onto the other side of the bed. He bursts into laughter, proud that his little prank was effective. Before you can scold him, he makes his way to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing your back against his chest. He thinks he feels your body tense; but then you bring your hand over his, swiping your thumb back and forth against his skin, and you relax in his hold. “You’re so annoying,” you complain, but your voice is tender, almost weak.

He buries his face in your hair, trying not to be too loud when he inhales there. “Sorry,” he says, the smile evident in his voice. “The opportunity was right there. Caught you staring, huh?”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Jake is more than happy to enjoy this moment in silence, but there’s something burning the tip of his tongue. It’s been there for a while now, but he thinks he’s finally found the right moment. “Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“There’s something I couldn’t tell you last night, but I feel oddly okay saying it right now. Are you listening?”

“I am, yeah,” you say gently, voice so soft it caresses his skin and draws goosebumps from it.

His chest expands and falls with a deep, shaky breath. With your back right against it, he’s scared you’ll hear that his heart is beating faster than it should. “Bad news first?” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Uh-oh.”

“There’s no roundabout way to say this, so here goes, I guess.” He takes another breath. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.” You tense in his embrace, and he waits for you to say something, anything before he continues.

“Oh,” is all you say. He hopes it’s a good oh - even if it isn’t, he doesn’t let it deter him.

“Yeah. I really debated telling you this… I know you might not feel the same way. But I also know that if I don’t say anything and make the same mistake twice, I’ll beat myself up over it for the rest of my life.”

“The same mistake?” you ask, looking at him over your shoulder.

He gazes down at you tenderly, pushing hair away from your face with a gentle hand. “I already felt that way back when we lived in Australia. I was about to tell you but when I learned that I was moving, I didn’t wanna risk ruining the little time we had left together.”

The look on your face both breaks his heart and patches it up again. “Jakey…” you say, voice just a whisper. You turn around to face him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. The fact that you’re not saying much is making his stomach twist in agonising stress, but he takes it as a good sign that you’re still holding him tight and not running away.

“I think I’d be the luckiest guy on Earth if you felt the same way,” he says, hopefulness clear in his voice.

And then he finally hears the words he’s been dying to hear all these years. “Of course, I feel the same way, Jake,” you say, eyes meeting his. “This isn’t bad news at all, it’s like, the best possible news ever.”

It takes him a few seconds, but when your words sink in, a bright smile graces his features. He feels tears coming up - tears of relief that you feel the same way, of sadness that it took the both of you so long to get here, of happiness that something new might start - he’s not sure. Perhaps everything at once.

“Of course?” he echoes, smiling wildly. “It wasn’t obvious to me.”

“Oh, gosh,” you murmur, burying yourself into him once more. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

He tightened his hold around you, bringing you to him as close as physically possible. “Me neither.”

The feeling of you tangling your bare legs with his and bunching up the fabric of his t-shirt in your fist awakens something in him - he had been in his head, thanking the heavens that you loved him back, reeling from his belated confession, but he was now very aware of his body. And of yours. He was reminded of Jay telling him to kiss you - although he hadn’t needed to go there to reveal his feelings to you, it was still a possibility. It was even more so now that he knew you felt the same way.

He tries to be subtle as he brushes a hand up your back to the nape of your neck, gently grazing his fingernails against the skin there. He has to suppress a self-satisfied smirk when he feels you squirm under his touch, lifting your head to fix him with a scolding look. Your stern expression fades as soon as his eyes fall on your lips, however, and you quickly mirror his gaze. His lips part, and he feels his whole body shake as he takes a deep breath in. Who knew that you’d share your first kiss on a random Sunday morning in the fuckass middle of nowhere in Scotland?

Maybe you take pity on him, or you recognise the effort put into being the one to make the first move, or, as he’d like to think, you just really want to kiss him - either way, you’re the one who closes the gap and presses your lips to his.

Your lips. So soft, so delicate against his, absolutely perfect. It’s a simple, tentative touch, but he’s craved it for so long that it makes his head spin. He frowns, despite himself instantly needing more than this feather-like feeling of your lips brushing against each other. His mind tells him to calm down and take it slow, but his body takes over, urging him to grab the nape of your neck a little harder, to hold you a little closer to him, to kiss you a little stronger. Thankfully, you let him do all of this and more, hands finding purchase in his hair and returning his intensity tenfold.

He doesn’t know what’s better - the fact that you’re kissing him or the kiss itself. The way your lips move against his is intoxicating; it wraps itself around its mind and leaves no room for thoughts that aren’t of you. You seem to want him as desperately as he wants you, to have waited for him as long as he did for you, and this is what drives him crazy. You press your body against his and he sees stars; you let out a moan against his lips and he kisses you deeper, ready to do anything to hear that melody again.

Unfortunately, the only melody he gets to hear is that of his phone alarm, informing you that it’s quarter to eleven and that you have fifteen minutes to leave. Check-out at eleven am had sounded nice yesterday; now, he would stay in this dingy inn his whole life if it meant he got to keep kissing you.

The both of you reluctantly break apart, bursting into giddy laughter when your eyes meet. As said before, Jake always thinks you’re pretty, but with your pupils blown and your lips plump from kissing, this might just be the prettiest he’s ever seen you.

“You know, I like you a lot, but I’d like you even more if you could stop time,” you say.

He looks down at you with a smile, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen on your face. “Sure, I’ll learn how to control time for you.”

“Thanks, Jakey.” You peck his lips, lingering, and he closes his eyes to savour your sweetness.

“Anything for you, baby.” His eyes widen at the nickname slip, but you erupt into giggles.

“Baby?”

“Would you look at the time, we really got to go,” he says, detangling his limbs from yours. He pauses for a second. “Baby,” he repeats, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before bouncing from the bed.

You get ready together, and the mundane tasks of stripping sheets from a bed and packing bags become the funnest things he’s ever done. You’re all over each other, attacking the other with kisses and hugs; Jake doesn’t think he’s ever felt quite this happy.

And this is only the beginning.

There’s a glint in the receptionist’s eyes when you check out of your room, as if she knew something you and Jake had been oblivious to all along. It’s the only one in town, so you go back to the little pub for a full breakfast with eggs, hash browns, haggis, and sausages. You get coffee so strong you think you might not sleep for the next four days, while Jake drinks tea that is equal parts sugar, milk, and actual tea.

From the moment you leave the pub to the moment you arrive at your doorstep, Jake’s hands barely leave yours. When they have to, like when you’re searching for the perfect seat on the train or when the controller checks your tickets, they’re back together within a minute, like two magnets that can’t stay apart for too long. The rain has long subsided, leaving place to a bright blue sky and wet blades of grass that shine in the sun.

Now that your mutual feelings don’t need to be kept secret, you tell each other about everything you had to go through, like you pretending your good news was your mum having baked the cookies Jake liked and him seeing your new boyfriends every two months on your close friends story. He tells you about all the hints he’s dropped, causing you to facepalm over and over again. It feels like two friends catching each other to speed on all the latest gossip, except the topic of that gossip is you.

The juxtaposition of your familiarity with Jake with the novelty of behaving like a couple, of not having to hold back with your touches or gazes or words, is nothing if not jarring. But you have a feeling you’ll get used to it in no time.

As you unlock the front door to your building, you don’t ask him if he’s coming up - to you, it’s a given that you’ll be spending the rest of today and every day after that together. So when he doesn’t follow you, staying still on the threshold, you turn around with a questioning look on your face.

“There’s something I need to do this afternoon,” he says, taking both of your hands in his.

“Can’t I come with?” you say. Jake wavers for a second, but sadly, he stays firm in his decision.

“Sorry, baby, it’s a surprise. I’ll be back at seven with takeout?”

You can’t possibly be mad at him when he calls you baby and offers food in the same breath. “Only if you bring takeout.”

“You only love me because I feed you, don’t you?” he asks, a smile on his face.

“Yup,” you reply. You’re standing on a step, so you bend down to kiss him - you intend for it to be a peck, but when your lips touch, you’re unable to pull away. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, in the warmth that takes over your body and makes your brain all fuzzy.

A loud, affronted gasp from behind you makes you jump from Jake, and when you turn around, Chaewon and Yunjin are standing in the stairwell, staring at you with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

“So this was a sexcapade?” is, much to your horror, the first thing Yunjin says.

Thanks to Chaewon, neither you nor Jake have the time to dwell on this sentence as she comes running down the stairs and pounces on you. You don’t know how a woman so small can have such force, but her hug is so tight you can barely breathe, let alone hug her back properly. “I knew you could do it!” she exclaims. When she pulls away, she seems so moved, it looks like she’s about to cry. “You finally popped your Jake cherry,” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for Jake to hear. A bark of laughter escapes his throat.

“Okay, thanks, guys,” you say, escaping this awkward situation and going up the stairs. “I’ll see you later, Jake!” you yell over your shoulder. The girls seem to be on their way out, and you’re more than happy leaving him to deal with them on his own. God knows you’ll get the worst of it when they come back.

As soon as you get to your flat, you make a beeline for your bedroom, plopping on the bed. You’re the same person, and this is the same room. But something within you feels entirely different, like a scar that you had been carrying around had, without you even noticing, healed so well you could barely see it anymore. You lifted your hands in the air, looked at the back of them, then at your palms. They were the same old hands that had been with you your whole life, and you were almost shocked that there wasn’t something utterly different about them after having held Jake’s hand for so long. Just to be sure, you sniffed your right hand, but it didn’t smell any different, either. But you still felt Jake’s hand on yours, like headphones you’d been wearing for hours and still felt on your ears after taking them off.

Yunjin and Chaewon are back from their shopping half-an-hour later; they got you a chocolate fudge cake from Tesco to congratulate you. “You guys are acting like this is my birthday…” you say, eyeing the cake greedily as Chaewon cuts it into three equal parts (even though it says serves eight on the packaging).

“This is more important than your birthday, Y/N,” Yunjin states as she pours oat milk into three cups of Earl Grey tea. “This is, like, the moment of a lifetime.”

“Are you saying a girl’s importance depends on her having a boyfriend?”

“Yes, Y/N, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Especially when said boyfriend is the guy she’s been pining after for all of her teenage and adult life.”

You sigh. “Well, he hasn’t exactly popped the boyfriend and girlfriend question yet.” They both turn to look at you, an annoyed look on their faces. You stand up straight, uncomfortable under their gazes. “What?”

“Usually, I’m all for clarity on this issue,” Chaewon starts. “But isn’t it pretty obvious here?”

“You’re still gonna have to tell us everything in minute detail, but Jake’s already told us what happened. He had no qualms referring to you as his girlfriend, so I really don’t think this is something you need to worry about. What you should worry about is when and where you’re going to hop on that dick.”

Chaewon bursts into laughter, and you can’t help but follow suit. “Gosh, Yunjin, you really do have a way with words.”

“I know. This is what having a Jane Austen hyperfixation at fifteen will do to you.”

Following Yunjin’s orders, you tell them about the events of the previous day and this morning over tea and cake. They ooh and ah and gasp in all the right places, ask you very specific questions and even make you draw a picture of the room you stayed in. You’ve talked to them about Jake so many times that there’s only so much to say now - but still, you talk for hours on end, deviating off-topic so often you end up talking about something else entirely.

You’re in bed reading for your Middle English Literature class when the doorbell rings. It’s seven on the dot, so it can be no one else other than Jake. It’s been mere hours, but you’ve missed him enough to last you for weeks.

He brought takeaway from the Indian place you’d raved about a hundred times but hadn’t brought him to yet. Somehow, your heart grows even fonder as you watch his reaction to the food, the raise of his eyebrows, the widening of his eyes, the excited shimmy of his shoulders. When you ask him about his afternoon, a wide smile breaks out onto his face, like a lightbulb illuminating a room. Without a word, he scurries to your room, bringing back some sort of book with him. He hands it to you with a shy smile and curious eyes, eagerly anticipating your reaction. The cover reads Y/N and Jake in his clumsy but endearing handwriting, with the date of his arrival in Edinburgh and an em-dash scribbled underneath. “I haven’t booked my flight home yet, so I’ll add the second date later,” he explains.

When you flick through it, you’re met with photographs of you and Jake on all of the trips you’ve done so far, as well as the various adventures you got up to in the city. There’s even one of you sleeping in the library at two am during midterms when you had forgotten about one of your essays, due at midday. Jake had come with coffee and words of encouragement, and now he could brag that the high mark you got was thanks to him. It’s not only photos - it’s also ticket stubs, receipts, stickers, and even a dried flower you had found pretty on your trip to St. Andrews. He’s also written quite a lot, from diary-like entries about what you got up to that day or songs that reminded him of you.

“You misspelt right here,” you say, pointing to a sentence that reads This is the café write next to the hotel where the last Harry Potter book is said to have been written!!! under a photo of you drinking a massive cup of hot chocolate. The more you look at the typo, the more it makes you laugh, until you have tears brimming in your eyes.

Thanks to Yunjin’s messiness, pens and pencils are strewn over your coffee table. Jake, flushed red in embarrassment at the small mistake, snatches a pencil and aggressively erases write, spelling it correctly the second time around. “This is the level of today’s English Lit undergrads,” he murmurs under his breath. His frown disappears when he looks at you and he laughs along.

You continue looking through the album until you land on a page titled Why I love Y/N. From top to bottom, left to right, it’s filled with Jake’s tiny handwriting. You can tell he put effort into making it neat. There’s a singular photograph of you, one that dates from the first days after Jake’s arrival when you were walking around in the Meadows, the park right next to campus. The sun shone down on you and you smiled brightly at Jake behind the camera.

You’re not a quarter through reading when tears swell in your eyes, rendering your vision blurry. You wipe them away before they can fall and stain the page. Jake has detailed every last thing he loves about you. It can hardly get cornier than this, but the fact that he wrote this about you makes your heart so full, you’re afraid it might explode in your chest. It ranges from basic things like the way she makes me laugh or her pretty face when she falls asleep in the train (or anywhere, for that matter) to more you-specific things like the strict pastel colour-coding she uses for her notes and her perseverance when eating spicy food even though she can’t take it. He mentions things about you that you didn’t even know, and that feeling of being known in-and-out, of being really seen by someone else only brings more tears to your eyes. Your favourite line comes at the end - the way she makes any place feel like home. A proper sob pushes past your lips at this, and Jake, who had been watching you with an anxious smile, rests a palm on your knee and inches closer to you.

“Why are you crying, is- Did I write something bad?”

You shake your head fervently. “No, no, Jakey, this is… It’s perfect. I’m just…” you trail, letting out a half-sob, half-chuckle. You look at him with a smile before pulling him into a tight hug. “I love it so much. I love you so much.”

You can feel Jake relax against you. “I love you too, baby. I’m glad you like it.”

You pull away after a small while, and turn the next page over. It’s a picture of you over breakfast this morning, with words WE’RE DATING!!!! written underneath it, and those simple words make you so happy, your cheeks ache from smiling. But every page after that is empty. Jake scratches the back of his neck. “I, um, I thought we could fill the rest out together. I debated just doing it myself and giving it to you at the end of the year, but I thought it’d be more fun doing it together.”

“It would. This is such an amazing idea,” you say, flicking back through the pages.

“I thought of it because of that project I had. When I started working on it, all the photos I wanted to include were of you, but I wasn’t sure how much my professor would appreciate that… So I decided to make one more personal. One for us,” he says shyly, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

“Thank you so much, Jakey.”

He smiles. “It’s no worries.”

“Did you do it all this afternoon?”

“I had started it before, but I added it most of today, yeah. Which, by the way, awful timing. I wanted nothing more than to spend today with you.”

Your heart leaps. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to hearing such words from Jake’s mouth.

Sometime later, you’re laying in bed with Jake between your legs, watching the most recent animated Spiderman movie. With the tips of your fingers, you draw random patterns on his forearm, and if it wasn’t for his occasional chuckles, you’d think he had fallen asleep. You chat for a bit after the movie, but you find that after such an emotionally-packed day, you’re ready to call it a night fairly early. But when the lights are off and it’s just you lying against Jake’s chest, his fingernails grazing your scalp and his familiar, comforting scent clouding your judgement, all thoughts of an early night are thrown out of the window.

You shouldn’t feel so nervous - you had fallen asleep in his arms last night, and it had gone well. Really well.

“This is different from yesterday, isn’t it?” Jake suddenly says, breaking the heavy silence with a low voice. It’s like he read your mind.

“Yeah,” you whisper against his skin.

No other words are needed. You brush the tip of your nose along his neck until you reach his jawline, pressing soft kisses there and delighting in the increasing shakiness of his breath. The feeling of your lips meeting is so intense, so all-encompassing, that you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle anything more.

This is still new territory, but you’re both so eager to discover it that it makes for a messy kiss, lips moving against each other ravenously, tongues beckoning moans from the other. It’s a kiss that somehow leaves you breathless and breathes oxygen back into your lungs at once.

In a matter of seconds, Jake has flipped you on your back and is hovering over you, one hand holding him up and one hand free to roam your body. He slips it underneath your t-shirt, brushes it along the side of your waist, his touch leaving behind a trail of fire blazing on your skin. It’s so distracting, you can’t even kiss him back properly anymore. Jake doesn’t seem to mind. At first, when he starts pressing hot kisses to your jawline and your neck, you think he’s giving you a respite - but when he gently sinks his teeth into the skin there, leaving marks that will later remind you tonight wasn’t a dream, chuckling as you squirm and whine under him, you understand that this is anything but a respite.

You curse your earlier decision of not wearing a bra, because it gives you no preparation whatsoever to the sensation of Jake brushing his thumb against one of your nipples. With a loud gasp, your back arches off of the bed, which only aids Jake in raising your t-shirt up over your breasts.

He takes a minute to admire the sight of you panting and half-naked underneath him. It makes you feel shy, and you want to do something so that he stops looking and starts doing, but his gaze holds you in place. His pupils are blown with lust, eyes raking over your body and taking everything in. You have a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that it’s you he’s looking at with those eyes.

His soft lips attach themselves to your nipple while his fingers continue their work on the other one. You’ve never felt this sensitive, never felt this on edge, like you might fall apart at any second even with so little simulation. Your core throbs, impatiently waiting to be tended to, but you’re already trembling so hard from Jake’s attention to your breasts that you don’t know what will happen to you once he actually touches you down there.

“You doing okay, baby?” he asks, the rasp in his voice making you want him impossibly more. You grip his hair and he looks up at you, a tender smile on his lips. You nod your head yes and he laughs. “Yeah? You want more?” You pause at his question. You do want more, but is it worth your sanity?

It takes you a second to decide that it’s worth that and more. You nod again.

Jake seems to have sensed your hesitation. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I am. It’s just a lot.”

His expression of worry softens into a smile. “I’ll take it slow for you, love. It’s a lot for me, too.” He leans in to press soft kisses to your cheek, and some of the tension in your body diffuses. Whatever happens, Jake will be there to take care of you. “But it feels good, right?” he asks, lips moving against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“So good, Jakey,” you reply shakily.

“Good.”

You can tell that Jake really does want to take it slow - his movements are more deliberate, gentler. But eagerness, both yours and his, soon takes over, and a minute later, he’s trailing kisses down your body until he reaches your lower stomach. Your breath quickens as he hooks fingers underneath your leggings and underwear, sliding both garments down your legs and leaving you bare to him. You think the feeling of his lips on the fleshy parts of your inner thighs is what might actually do you in, make you lose your sense of reality forever - but then his tongue darts out against your clit, a barely-there touch, and your whole body flatlines.

Your reaction eggs Jake on, who, more confident now, takes the sensitive bud in his lips and alternates between sucking and licking motions. A knot ties itself embarrassingly quickly in your stomach, a knot that tightens and tightens as Jake flattens his tongue against you, licking up your juices from your entrance to your clit; a knot that threatens to come loose when he slides a long finger inside of you. You can’t take more than thirty seconds of this.

“Jakey,” you say, voice practically a moan. Your brain is fuzzy and it takes a distressing amount of time to form a simple sentence. “Can you come here?”

“Is something wrong, baby?” he asks breathily, sliding his finger out of you and coming back up so that his face is right above yours.

“No, just… I want you.”

Any trace of worry on Jake’s features dissipates as he cocks an eyebrow, one corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk. “Is that so?”

This kind of boldness would usually have you rolling your eyes, but here, it only makes your core throb more violently. It’s almost humiliating how much you want this man. It’s definitely humiliating, how easy it is to swallow your pride and play into his game. “Yes, please,” you say, eyes pleading with him.

He smiles almost giddily before burying his face against the side of yours. “My baby’s so polite,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Take this off, then,” you say, grabbing the bottom hem of his t-shirt.

“So she says please and gives orders,” he jokes, quickly obliging anyway.

Not once in your time apart had Jake posted any sort of beach trip or pool photos, so this was the first time you saw his bare chest. God, was it one for the history books. You trace the defined lines of his muscles with a finger and wonder how he had managed to get even more perfect. He lets you marvel at him for it, clearly proud that you’re gawking so shamelessly, but your mind drifts back to more urgent matters when he presses himself into you, his clothed cock, hard and hot, brushing against your folds. “Fuck,” you sigh, bucking your hips into his to feel him over and over again.

It’s so much, but it’s not enough; Jake instantly gets your message when you hook your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, pulling him to you and kissing him feverishly. Your lips don’t part as he slides his boxers off, and you drink up the nectar that are his moans as you take him in your hand, pumping him a few times.

“Condom?” he asks, but you shake your head.

“I’m on the pill. And even so… I usually always use a condom, but I don’t want to now. Not with you.”

Jake closes his eyes as he takes a deep, stabilising breath. “I feel totally normal about that. Not crazy at all.”

You giggle, and he opens his eyes, a wide smile gracing his lips before he bends down to kiss you. “You ready for the night of your life?” he asks against your lips. “It’s gonna last five minutes, tops,” he says, making you laugh again. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t do anything about it. I think I could’ve cum just from eating you out.”

“That would’ve been hot.”

“Really? We’ll make it a challenge for next time, then.”

When Jake plunges into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He fills you up, slow inch by slow inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. You both need some time getting used to the feeling - Jake drops his head in the crook of your neck and lets out a sound between a grunt and a moan, something you’ve never heard from him before. You grab onto his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin as you try to tether yourself to him. You hold him so tight that he has no choice but to let his body rest on top of yours, his arms coming to circle your waist and bring you even closer.

His movements start out halting, the pleasure so overwhelming that it makes it hard for him to move steadily. In time, he falls into a torturously slow rhythm, but it’s the perfect kind of torture, the kind that has tears brimming in your eyes. It’s so hard to take, and yet you want more. You’re brought closer to the edge with every thrust of his dick into you, especially as he picks up the pace and lifts your hips to meet his. The new angle has his tip brushing against that spot deep inside you that makes it hard to breathe.

You can tell he’s just as close as you when he loses that steady rhythm he had found, his motions growing more desperate, harsher, quicker. Conscious of your roommates, you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as your orgasm washes over you, your whole body on fire, so sensitive that the few more seconds Jake needs to come undone himself drive both your body and your mind into overstimulation. Even the feeling of him pulling out, drops of hot liquid dripping out of your entrance, is too much and makes you let out a small, tired whine.

Jake peppers your face with kisses as he holds your waist tightly, brushing his thumb back-and-forth on your warm skin, sticky with sweat. “You did so well, baby. So good for me.” You think you might be ready for a second round if he keeps talking to you like that. “I love you so much.”

You sigh deeply, as if you were just told disconcerting news. “Okay.”

“Okay?!” he echoes, looking up at you with an outraged expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, I love you too, I just- I’m not used to this yet! You can’t just tell me you love and expect me to be normal. You have to warn me first.”

“Can I just warn you now that I’m going to tell you I love you every time I get the chance?”

You sigh. “I guess.”

“Can I tell you now?” he asks, and you hum. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jake tuts. “I highly doubt it, but whatever makes you happy.”

You hold Jake close to you, one arm around his shoulders and the other hand playing with his hair as you come down from your high. You think he might’ve fallen asleep, and you’re close to drifting off yourself when he speaks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. Not just the sex, although that has been on my mind for a while now,” he says, making you laugh, “but all of this. Being together, getting to be in your arms like this, kissing you whenever I want. Calling you my girlfriend.”

“Me too, Jakey. I waited so long I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

Jake chuckles. “How stupid were we not to have noticed we felt the same way?”

“Very stupid. I think we felt so sorry for ourselves that we were stuck in one-sided love, that we didn’t even realise the other was going through the exact same thing. But at least we’re now.”

“At least we’re here now.” You and Jake yawn at the exact same time, making you burst into giggles, giddy with sleep and love.

“Let’s sleep, baby,” you say.

Jake hums, burying himself deeper against your body. “Sleep well, my love. I’ll be here.”

After years of pining after each other, you and Jake find it a bit hard to keep your relationship to yourselves, or your hands off of each other.

At the beginning, all of your friends had been happy for you, but that quickly went away when your and Jake’s honeymoon phase never died down and the PDA just kept on going. If the glue you were stuck with previously was metaphorical, this one was pretty close to being real. Superglue kept you together, your moments together rarely spent without some sort of physical touch. Yunjin fake-gagged so often, you were afraid she might actually vomit one of these days. It took Sunghoon two weeks longer than everyone else to clock you and Jake had started dating.

This meant that in private, there was truly no holding back. Jake back-hugged you any chance he got, to the point you started to think he was more koala than human - although that’d imply he saw you as a tree. Make-out sessions were a particular favourite of yours - how could they not be when your boyfriend’s lips seemed to have been carved by God himself, soft and plump to the heavens, like they were made to be kissed. Really, you were just honouring God’s will when you kissed Jake.

The goodbye that comes at the end of the year is not an easy one, and the month spent at home before you fly to Korea seems to never end. But you get there eventually, and as nice as it is to catch up with Jake’s parents after so long, you feign sleepiness after lunch as an excuse to get some time alone with your boyfriend. Ironically, this “time alone” is spent so intensely that you do end up falling asleep afterwards.

You have to admit, you really did a number on your boyfriend this time - what can a girl do when she missed her boyfriend this much? Jake is still passed out when you wake up from your nap, so you slip out as discreetly as you can from his embrace and get out of bed. You head for the closet first and swipe the comfiest looking sweater of his that you find there so you can stay warm as you look around his room. A pang of melancholia hits your chest - most of the pictures and objects on his walls and shelves are parts of his life you weren’t around to witness. Friends you don’t recognize, places you’ve never heard of, phases you’d never known he’d gone through. But then you see the frame on his desk, a faded photo of the two of you at ten years of age, eating ice cream on the bench outside of your house. Milo is sitting at your feet. Jake’s family hadn’t adopted Layla yet. You realise that even if there’s whole parts of your life you didn’t get to share with each other, nothing could touch your memories, or your future.

You want to go back in time and tell fourteen-year-old you that no matter how painful it might seem at the moment, it will all be worth it for the sight of Jake Sim slowly drifting into wakefulness, patting the bed next to him, and noticing you’re missing with furrowed eyebrows. When he opens his eyes and they settle on you, a sleepy smile will grace his dazzling features, and he’ll say, “Come back to bed.”

You’ll be even more in love at twenty than at fourteen.

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz (ask to be removed/added!)

#enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen x reader #jake sim x reader #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun x reader #enhypen oneshots #jake sim oneshots #enhypen imagines #jake sim imagines #enhypen fluff #jake fluff

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gyuswhore · 8 months

Text

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) [teaser]

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

READ FULL FIC HERE!

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (none in teaser) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT: est. 25k

WORD COUNT [teaser]: ~820

RELEASE DATE: est. october 2nd 2023

!PLEASE SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST (ageless blogs WILL NOT BE ADDED)!

masterlist

WARNINGS [!is subject to change upon publishing of the full fic!]: slowburn, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, (smut tags in the full fic)

[A/N]: I worked rlly hard on the banner pls look at it ‼️ enjoy hehe also this is probably gonna be way more than 25k but I supposed its better than overshooting

teaser under the cut!

It’s a black sedan that rolls up next to you, slower than what’s considered a normal speed on an empty street. It honks and you nearly halt, owing to the shake that passes through your knees. It honks again, and you can’t help but look to the side to find a window rolled down.

Mingyu sits on the driver’s seat, leaning over to the empty passenger side to grab your attention.

“The Uber’s free! So is the driver,” he yells out the window. “Hop in.”

“I’m alright. I kinda wanna walk.” You shift your weight between your feet, the distance adding an awkward feel.

“Wasn’t asking. It’s the middle of the night, I’m not letting you walk alone.” As he speaks, another car passes from behind him, slowing down. You note the look the other driver is giving you through the window, and it’s enough to convince you to step into Mingyu’s car.

“I think we’re way past the point of formalities, don’t know why you hesitated.” He chuckles as he motions for you to click on your seatbelt. You fumble with it for a moment, his own fingers coming to the rescue to latch it on. You retract your fingers before they can brush with his own any further.

Settling into your seat, you choose to look forward as he picks up speed. “Uhm, just wanted to walk, it was nice outside.”

“Take someone with you next time, it’s nearly midnight,” he warns.

There’s a twinge of annoyance that emerges in the back of your mind for some reason, despite knowing full well that he was right. You just didn’t want to hear it from him.

It’s silent for a bit as the radio plays an uncharacteristically upbeat tune, prompting you to wonder if it was just you who felt the atmosphere pressing in on your chest.

“Did you not bring your car today?” he asks out of the blue, eyes remaining on the road as you glance up at him. One look at his side profile and you’re turning your gaze away.

“No, it’s at the workshop. I came with Nayeon.”

“Why didn’t you leave with her?”

“I…” You pause. “I told her I was gonna go with Seok.”

“Hm. That didn’t happen.”

“It’s like I said,” you mumble.

He hums again in response, dropping the subject.

“Listen, are you…are you okay?” he starts again and it has you looking back up at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You try to hide the bitterness in your tone but it proves difficult.

“I couldn’t help but overhear but I was sitting right there. Hao was talking to Mika about something she’d said to you, about…” He trails off. “I mean, you looked a little upset, I just wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You bit your tongue. Hard.

He knew you were staring at him, he knew you weren’t over him. He knew you were still standing on the same square confinement from months ago. Never changed.

“I’m fine,” you reply, snappier than you had intended.

“Are you sure? I felt like I should’ve said something but Nayeon was right there so I thought…” He sounds unsure and when you see him look at you, with eyes filled with an emotion that makes you nearly gag, you almost lose it. You did not want him to pity you. Nor care for you; especially when it came from a place that nullifies your feelings. You didn’t want him to care for you for the sole reason that you were his best friend’s sister.

“Mingyu, I think it’s best if you drop it.”

“Of course. But it might help if you wanna, you know, feel your feelings.”

Fuck no, you weren’t crying in front of him. Not when you're sure he’s noticed the tear stains on your makeup.

“Mingyu, I said drop it. I don’t need your help, I don’t need to feel anything, I need you stop feeling like you’re obligated to care about me because you’re not.” The words come tumbling out before you can stop them, irritation laced in every snap and dent.

He says your name in an attempt to smooth you over. It only lands him in more trouble.

“No, listen, I get it. You’re uncomfortable about everything but you feel like you need to check up on me at the same time, and I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to worry about that. What happened, happened, and it’s my job to pick up the pieces because it’s my fault. You don’t need to meddle.” You’re breathing hard as you finish, finally settling back in your seat.

He’s already pulling up to your building, heat still penetrating the silence. You unbuckle your seatbelt, mumbling a thanks for the ride.

“Seok’s staying at Cheol’s tonight,” he calls out as you shuffle out the door. “Remember to lock the door.”

You stand sheepishly holding the open door as you nod quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the shoot.”

1K notes · View notes

faetima · 23 days

Text

𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞. .

. . one day you receive an odd text from an unknown number. you try blocking the number, but it doesn’t work.

oh well, it’s probably just someone pranking you.

right?

// tws ; lil bit of cursing, stalking ; gn reader ; modern au, yandere au

a/n: sorry for the weird formatting!! tumblr wouldn't let me format it correctly :(

also sorry for the random bigger text, it keeps changing random letters and numbers to be bigger for some reason??

𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧.

aconties — symbolize hatred and that you should be cautious.

aconite - veil

always forever - cults

jealous girl - lana del rey

suki suki daisuki - jun togawa

yes or yes - twice

saccharine - jazmin bean

stalker’s tango - autoheart

an unhealthy obsession - tbrso

candy coated suicide - night club

i wanna be your boyfriend - hot freaks

i’m a slave 4 u - jazmin bean

the red means i love you - madds buckley

body - mother mother

red lights - bang chan, hyunjin

playlist <3

𝟭.‎‎‎‎‎

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

18:12 december 12th, 2024

unknown number

hello, my aconite. :)

you

who is this?

unknown number

oh, dont worry about that.

youll know very soon, my beloved aconite. <3

read 18:20

you have blocked unknown number !

…

your block was unsuccessful ! please try again later .

𝟮.

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

13:27 december 13th, 2024

unknown number

hello, my aconite!

how was your day today?

sent 13:27

unknown number

hello?

sent 16:43

unknown number

please reply. i know youre online, aconite.

you

please stop

who is this??

unknown number

i told you before !

haha, my aconite is so silly. never remembers anything.

like your math homework yesterday, hm? completely forgot to do it!

so cute.<3

read 17:38

you have blocked unknown number !

…

your block was unsuccessful ! please try again later .

𝟯.

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

12:12 december 14th, 2024

unknown number

who is that boy?

you

unknown number

the one sitting across from you.

he keeps looking at you.

he keeps touching you. its pissing me off.

who is he?

you

he’s my friend

unknown number

sure.

well see how long that lasts. :)

read 12:48

you looked up from your phone, glancing towards bennett, and then around the small cafeteria which was packed with people, a shiver running down your spine.

whoever was texting you was here, and they were watching you.

𝟰.

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

12:58 december 17th, 2024

unknown number

my beloved aconite, arent you supposed to be in class rigjt now?

right ***

ignore that.

and, most importantly, arent you supposed to be paying attention?

come on darling, on your phone in the one class i so happen to be in?

you can do this in chemistry or something. dont do it just when i so happen to be near you. i know for a fact you dont do this in any other class.

anyways, see you later ❤️❤️

read 13:02

𝟱.

you have started a chat !

09:27 december 18th, 2024

you

BENNETT

HELP KE

benny

Huh? Wht happened? R u ok?

you

THERE’S THIS GHY

OR GIRL I DON’T KNOW

AND I THINK HE’S STALKING ME OR SOMETHING

benny

Huh?? Wdym?

you

OKAY I DON’T KNOW IF HE’S STALKING ME

BUT HE’S GIVING ME REALLY FREAKY VIBES

HE KEEPS TEXTING ME

AND HE SAW ME TALKING TO YOU

AND THEN HE ASKED ABT THAT

AND HE WAS LIKE “HE WON’T BE YOUR FRIEND FOR LONG 🙂”

AND AND AND

APPARENTLY HE’S IN MY MATH CLASS???

AND HE SAW ME ON MY PHONE

JND TEHN HE TEXTED ME AND SCOLED ME

HELP WHAT DO I DO

benny

Just block him

you

I TRIED

IT’S NOT WORKING??

benny

Well I dont think u can do anything abt it besides that

Bc u dont hv any proof that he has any malicious intent

So uhm maybe just ignore him

Maybe hes just trolling u

you

yeah

maybe

read 10:01

you let out a sigh, putting your phone face down and burying your face in your arms.

what could you even do at this point? you didn’t have any proof they had any bad intent, and you couldn’t block them.

this whole situation was starting to freak you out. it didn’t help that you were pretty emotional and easily scared.

maybe you should look on the positive side. hey, someone finally has a crush on you!

you swallowed hard, breathing rapidly, heart racing. you buried your face deeper in your arms, scared of what was to come from this whole situation.

𝟲.

you exhaled shakily, a small fog appearing from it. you were shivering, the outside cold pinpricking your skin like tiny needles.

choosing fashion over warmth probably hadn’t been a good idea, but who cared? you liked dressing up. it was worth sacrificing your comfort for something you enjoyed! plus you would’ve been cold either way. it would be heated enough in the classroom anyway.

at least you hoped it would be.

you walked at moderately fast pace to your school, putting in your earbuds. you scrolled down your playlist on spotify, finally finding the song you had been craving to listen to. you clicked the play button on it, refraining from humming along to it.

you found yourself repeatedly glancing behind yourself, even though each time you looked no one was there. every time there was even the slightest of rustling able to penetrate through the sound of the music you were listening to, you’d jump, paranoid.

ever since you had received the first message, you had been on edge, and for good reason. this whole situation was extremely different from what you experienced in your day to day life.

before this, you hadn’t even known of anyone liking you romantically. it wasn’t that everyone hated you or something, you were just pretty shy, which led others to socialize with and notice you less.

a lot less.

it was a bit disappointing, but at least you had a few friends.

you had been lost in your train of thought too long. as you walked forward mindlessly, you hadn’t noticed a figure also walking in front of you.

you crashed into the person and staggered a little before regaining your balance.

luckily the person didn’t fall or anything, but instead stood rigid like a stone wall.

you gasped out a few apologizes, repeatedly saying “sorry”.

but you immediately shut up when the person turned around and when electric purple eyes met your own.

you swallowed hard, freezing as the person scowled at you.

𝟳.

“watch where you’re going,” the person muttered, still scowling at you. her loosely braided hair—a shade of bright purple, similar to that of an aconite, with some lighter purple highlights within it—fell down the front of her shoulder, and she pushed it back. the motion itself was filled with pure elegance and grace.

”i- uhm, sorry,” you mumbled, your neck getting hotter as you lowered your head a little in shame.

the girl rolled her eyes.

even that was full of daintiness and fluidity.

she sighed the slightest bit, seeming to soften a little.

”it’s fine, i guess. just watch where you’re going in the future.”

she mumbled those words quickly before turning and walking away briskly, pulling out her phone and rapidly texting someone whilst walking.

the sharp clicking of her heels was the only thing heard in the crisp and cold morning air.

suddenly, your phone buzzed. you took it out, hands trembling the tiniest bit.

‎‎‎unknown number has started a chat !

07:54 december 19th, 2024

unknown number

where are you?

youre in class by this time.

read 07:54

unknown number

answer me.

read 08:01

unknown number

stop fucking leaving me on read.

read 08:04

you have blocked unknown number !

…

your block was successful !

𝟴.

22:39 december 20th, 2024

unknown number

youre going to regret this so, so much my pretty aconite.

im going to pick all your petals off.

one

one. <3

your message was not able to be sent ! you may have been blocked by the recipient . if not, please try again later . if the problem persists, please contact customer support .

𝟵.

a few days had passed since you had blocked the number.

now you sat in class, chin placed in the palm of your arm. you felt eerily drowsy, but knew it was just because of how bored you were. the teacher droned on and on about some sort of math formula. you didn’t bother listening, knowing it would only make your head hurt if you tried to understand what was going on.

you were snapped out of your sleepy daze when the teacher said something about a “group project”. she said there would be groups of three or four, and that groups would be predetermined, but you could request to be put in a group with someone else.

the person sitting in front of you passed you the slip to request to be put into a group with someone.

you passed it to the person behind you after realizing what the slip was for.

you just had to be assigned a group project in the class you had no friends in. it could’ve been in literally any other class, but no, instead it was in the class where you barley knew anyone.

you didn’t put anyone on the slip because you barley knew anyone in the class, and the people you knew probably were already going to put someone else on the paper.

you put your head down in your arms, closing your eyes, listening to the erratic chatter around you.

what you didn’t notice was that, on the slip, someone had already put your name down alongside theirs.

𝟭𝟬.

you sighed softly, finally done with school for the day. you opened the door to your house, and were hit by the strong and unmistakable aroma of your favorite meal.

you stepped into your house, closing the door quietly and setting your backpack down. you greeted your mom, who greeted you back. she stood in the kitchen, cooking your favorite meal.

”can you go to the store for me? i need salt for this, but we ran out,” your mom stated, gesturing towards what she was cooking.

you nodded silently, turning to leave. you opened the door, closed it, and started walking to the store.

upon entering, you couldn’t help but notice how empty it was. usually there were at least a few other people, but right now you could only spot around four.

you walked around the store but, even after ten minutes of sauntering around, couldn’t find the salt for some reason. maybe you were going blind or something.

you decided to ask an employee, timidly walking up to one and tapping him on the shoulder.

he turned around, bright purple eyes meeting your own. a scowl, which didn’t quite seem to fit him, adorned his pretty face. his hair was a dull shade of purple, and light wispy bangs fell on his forehead. his skin was extremely clear and pale like porcelain, and looked as if it could shatter any second. the resemblance to a doll he bore was uncanny.

”what?” he snapped, glaring at you through his bangs.

”uhm, sorry to bother you, but, uh, do you.. do you know where the salt is?” you asked, fidgeting a little with your fingers.

he let out a long, deep sigh.

”yes. follow me,” he muttered, already walking towards the isle.

you followed in suit.

𝟭𝟭.

tentatively, you looked up from your hands to see who was in your group.

the first person you laid your eyes upon was a girl with light blue hair tied into an elegant and sleek ponytail with a black ribbon with golden streaks. she had a small beauty mark under one of her eyes, which were a pale shade of blue, matching her hair.

sitting beside her was a guy who was a bit taller than her. he had green eyes and messy honey-yellow hair that was tied into a ponytail with a scarlet red ribbon.

you moved your gaze to the last person.

he seemed oddly familiar, like you had seen him somewhere before. you couldn’t quite remember where though, maybe at park or store?

he had feathery bangs which fell down his forehead in a almost perfect matter. his hair itself seemed to be styled in a jellyfish cut of sorts, and was a dim shade of lavender. his eyes matched the color of his hair, and were narrowed to form a scowl on his pretty face. his skin was eerily pale, almost like porcelain.

the boy who you were just looking at let out what seemed to be an annoyed sigh, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes at something.

the blonde boy spoke up first.

”so, uhm.. hi. i’m thoma.”

following in suit, you all said your names after him.

thoma spoke again.

”do you guys have a phone number or something we can use to contact each other with for the project? i already have ayaka’s, so i just need you boths’.”

scaramouche shook his head.

”i don’t have access to my phone right now,” he muttered, still scowling

”oh.”

”we, uhm, we can use instagram or something to message each other?” you said, the slightest hint of nervousness lacing your voice.

”sure,” ayaka said.

scaramouche and thoma nodded in agreement.

you all wrote down your usernames on a piece of paper.

once you got home, you took out your phone, typing all their usernames into the search bar and following them one by one. after doing so, you added them all to a group chat.

𝟭𝟮.

you have started a chat !

18:12 december 27th, 2024

you

@.lookingforthoma

Hello.

@.hidingfromayaka

🤑

@.flowers4sc4ra

hi. ig.

@.hidingfromayaka

LMAOO WHY IS UR USERNAME THAT

UR ALWAYS SO EMO BUT NOW

”FLOWERS4SC4RA”

LMOA LMOA

@.flowers4sc4ra

shut the fuck up.

you

pls stop

@.flowers4sc4ra

sorry. ig.

@.hidingfromayaka

OMFG

HE KIST

USYT

JUST

SAID SORRY

TO U

SHEJSHWJAHAAKAKWK

you

okay anyway

there’s two parts on the project

i was thinking we could split up into teams of two and then each do one part or smth?

idk man 😭😭

@.lookingforthoma

That sounds good.

@.flowers4sc4ra

ok.

@.hidingfromayaka

i call dibs on working with ayaka 😛😛

1 user disliked

𝟭𝟯.

you stood in front of his house’s door, rocking back onto your heels and then up onto your toes, nervous. you clutched the bag you were holding—of which was filled with notebooks and various school supplies.

you were anxious, waiting for scaramouche to answer the door. it had only been a minute, but to you it felt like ten.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. you didn’t know why or how or when or where, just that you had a bad gut feeling.

but you shook it off, knowing you had to work on the project.

all of the sudden the door opened, slamming against the wall in a violent manner, making you flinch a little, torn out of your thoughts.

you glanced at the doorway, laying your eyes on the indigo-haired boy.

”uhm, hi,” you mumbled, swallowing nervously.

”hi,” he replied, voice and face blank; devoid of any emotion, “uh, d’you wanna come in?”

you uttered a small okay, walking inside after he shuffled a little to the side.

“we can work in the living room, i guess.”

you nodded silently, following scaramouche as he walked to the living room.

upon arriving, you placed your bag—which you had been clutching so hard your knuckles had turned white—down. you both sat down on the ground, and, after taking your things out, started working on the project.

scaramouche was sitting slightly behind you, doing his part of the project. once every few minutes, he would lean his head over your shoulder—face almost touching it—in order to see what progress you had made.

your heart beat much, much faster every time he did it, face getting hot.

and of course that didn’t go unnoticed by scaramouche.

around an hour after working on the project, you asked scaramouche where the bathroom was.

”straight, then go left,” he said. he didn’t even glance up at you as he told you where to go, just continued writing on the notebook splayed out in front of him.

you got up, walking out of the living room and straight like he said.

only problem was you didn’t quite remember if he had said to go right or left after going straight.

you decided to go right, and came across a door. assuming it was the bathroom, you opened it.

you really wished you hadn’t after you saw what was inside.

𝟭𝟰.

after you had opened the door and seen what was inside, you really wished you hadn't.

inside there were hundreds and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of photographs. they were plastered all over the walls, overlapping each other. they covered the ground, the walls, the ceiling, everything. the only things in the room besides that were a bed, a desk, and a computer monitor, which was lit up.

the bright screen blared at you, enticing you to come look.

the monitor displayed pictures of a house, probably running from security cameras or the like.

but it wasn't just any house, no.

it was your house.

your room.

your kitchen.

your living room.

your fucking house.

a wave of dizziness and nausea hit you. you felt sick to your stomach, leaning on the doorway for support.

then you heard something clattering behind you, falling to the floor.

you looked behind you, eyes wide.

scaramouche was standing there, frozen. he had dropped his phone to the ground, which had a photo of you working on the project opened on it.

”why the fuck are you in my room?” he burst out, almost yelling at you.

his room?

you became even more still than you were before, if that was even physically possible.

”y-you- your room?” you uttered, voice audibly shaking.

scaramouche just glared at you, hands fisted up.

then he took a step toward you.

you, in turn, stepped backwards.

the slightest rusting of paper was heard—presumably some of the photographs getting crushed underneath your feet.

he walked closer.

you backed away.

it was a vicious cycle which eventually ended when you bumped into a wall. some photographs fell down to the floor from the motion.

scaramouche cornered you in, staring at you with an unknown glint in his eyes.

it was a combination of everything you had made him fucking feel—obsession, anger, lovesickness, loathing.

he leaned in towards you, mouth almost touching your ear from how close he was. his hot breath fanned across your neck.

”well, since you’ve already seen everything, there’s no point in letting you leave now, hm? not when you’re right where i want you, my beloved aconite,” he whispered, pulling away. scaramouche grinned.

he stared at you with a mixture of emotions in his eyes, but the most prominent was limerence.

“you’re finally all mine. my aconite.”

175 notes · View notes

tyonfs · 2 years

Text

netflix and chill

❝ you’ve been eye-fucking me all night, and i was starting to think you weren’t gonna get around to the chill part of netflix and chill. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee jeno x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, strangers to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, smut, couch sex, wall sex, shower sex, fingering, dry humping, lots of teasing!! and some degradation and praise, oral (fem. receiving), choking, size kink, bulge kink, hyuck is insufferable, i’m sorry this is pure filth, despite the warnings there are fluffy moments

SUMMARY ▸ lee jeno doesn’t want to give up the carefree life of a single man, not tied down by emotional entanglements and commitments. that is, until he sees you smacking a man twice your size with a stack of engineering paper. he kind of falls in love, so jeno does what any normal person does and invites you over to netflix and chill.

PLAYLIST ▸ long way 2 go by cassie • sour grapes by le sserafim • foreshadow by enhypen • lucid dream by aespa

WORD COUNT ▸ 10,087 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello hello! i went awol for a tiny bit but im back and i really hope you guys enjoy this !! shoutout to the ice cream sandwich that kept me awake to finish this. second installment of the bitch hunters series ♡

THE FIRST TIME LEE JENO FELT THE WORLD SHIFT OFF ITS AXIS WAS WHEN HE SAW YOU KNOCKING THE DAYLIGHTS OUT OF A MAN TWICE YOUR SIZE.

Na Jaemin and Lee Donghyuck, his housemates, were still bickering behind Jeno about a pact they had made in the beginning of the year. It was a tradition the residents of the Bitch Hunters household carried out, in which they would get a girlfriend in their fourth year of college. Since their other housemate, Huang Renjun, had already accomplished a successful bitch hunting season, Jaemin and Donghyuck were arguing who would get a girlfriend between the two of them.

Jeno honestly didn’t care when it happened; he just knew he was ready for a relationship, but he was planning on waiting for the perfect girl to come along.

Jeno had flings here and there. He hooked up with Kim Minjeong for a long time before she got a boyfriend. He was a great guy and Jeno truly was happy for them, but he felt a strange feeling in his chest when he realized she was tied down.

No, it wasn’t jealousy in any sense. Jeno was on good terms with Minjeong, but he didn’t like her to the point of wanting to be in a relationship. The reason he felt so strange was because he felt left behind. Once Minjeong picked herself up and found someone that made her happy, Jeno felt like he was stuck in a rut.

That, or he just felt embarrassed to be lumped with Donghyuck and Jaemin.

It was when Jeno started dreading his 4 P.M. Structural Design class that he started to think about how laughable his situation was. He was an architectural engineering major who could outline the process for laying down the foundation for a building, but he couldn’t set the foundations of a relationship within himself.

That was when he heard the commotion.

“Cut it out already!” the person yelled. “I don’t want anything to do with you after what you pulled last night.”

“Y/N, please,” the man who looked about twice your size begged. “Can we just talk in private?”

“I already told you, I don’t wanna see your face again.”

It was rare for Jeno to get involved in other people’s problems, but you two were arguing in the middle of campus and Jeno was a little scared for you. For starters, the man was taller than Jeno himself, and he kept getting closer to you despite your protests. It always angered him when he saw situations like these unravel; some people just didn’t know how to respect boundaries.

“Whoa.” Donghyuck placed a hand on Jeno’s shoulder after he had stopped in his tracks. “What are you gonna do? Punch him?”

“Let’s get going, Jeno.” Jaemin nudged his housemate. “Causing a scene in front of everyone might make this worse.”

Jeno was a careful man. He paid his bills on time, stuck to a strict routine to make sure he completed everything by the end of the day, and abided by the rules as often as he needed to. Violence was definitely not in Lee Jeno’s book, and this was mostly because he promised his mother that he wouldn’t get into trouble. So, nope, he was not going to get involved.

“Just please don’t tell my girlfriend.”

There was one thing that Jeno would never tolerate, and that was cheating.

Whatever snapped in him had clouded his brain completely. Before he knew it, he was charging over to the guy with his hand balled in a fist, raising behind him to swing.

The sharp sound that followed the blow made the courtyard go silent. For a moment, Jeno couldn’t even figure out what had happened. His knuckles weren’t stinging at all, and he hadn’t even gotten close enough to land a blow on the man.

“Holy shit,” Jeno whispered when he realized the man had been knocked down by none other than you.

You were holding your thick stack of engineering paper in both hands, brows knitted in frustration as you realized what you had just done. You finally made eye contact with Jeno. He wasn’t sure if his heart was racing because he was absolutely terrified of you, or if he had just fallen in love with you. Both were plausible, and that confused Jeno even more.

The man grunted and started to get up. “Hey—”

This could turn ugly fast, and Jeno had already inserted himself into the situation by approaching you. Before anyone could react, he grabbed one of your hands and started sprinting in the direction of the architecture building.

(He was going to get an earful about this from Donghyuck and Jaemin later, which he was not prepared for.)

When Jeno decided that the coast was clear and it was safe for you two to stop running, he jogged to a halt and let go of your hand. His chest was heaving from exerting himself suddenly, and he felt a little bad when you had to double over to catch your breath.

“Thanks,” you breathed out, hands placed firmly on your knees, “but… who are you?”

“Um, Jeno,” he introduced. “Lee Jeno.”

“I’m Y/N,” you said, managing a smile while looking like you were about to go limp. “How’d you know I needed to go to the arch building?”

“Oh…” Jeno glanced over his shoulder. “Actually, I just wanted to get us out of that weird situation. I just ended up running to wherever my next class was.” He paused for a second before asking, “You an arch student, too?”

“I’m materials engineering, but I’m trying to switch,” you explained. “Anyway, thanks for getting me out of there. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I just kept standing there.”

Jeno laughed. “Honestly, I didn’t need to do anything. It looks like you can handle yourself just fine.”

You had a curious look dancing in your eyes, like you wanted to say something more, but you held off. Instead, you asked, “What class are you going to, by the way?”

“Structural Design,” Jeno answered with a scoff. “I don’t think you’re gonna experience the thrill of columns and beams anywhere else.”

“No way. I’m trying to crash that class.”

“Willingly?”

You giggled. “If I wanna switch—yeah,” you said matter-of-factly. “You wouldn’t mind helping me get in, would you?”

Jeno pondered on this for a second. This was the perfect opportunity to get to know you, a complete stranger, a lot better. He was already seeing possibilities of something coming out of this, but he also didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I mean, I do know the professor pretty well,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging into a grin, “so I guess I could put in a good word.”

This seemed to brighten your spirits, which was a stark contrast to the gloomy expression you wore earlier. Jeno exchanged some small talk with you, getting to learn that you were a year younger and were currently going through a quarter life crisis because you felt like you were switching majors too late. Jeno managed to reassure you that it was fairly normal to switch, especially when you already had engineering classes completed to stay ahead.

When you both got to the lecture hall, Jeno was surprised that you stuck by his side. He half-expected you to ditch him for a friend you ran into. And although you did run into a friend, you still sat next to Jeno.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel proud about that.

Actually, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be feeling at all, but two things were running through Jeno’s head: you were very pretty, and you were probably going to be the death of him.

Later that night, Jeno realized that he had to prepare for war at the dinner table.

“And you know what Lover Boy did after that?” Jaemin jested. “He ran with the girl! Dude thought this was his K-drama moment.”

Sometimes, he found meals with his housemates to be insufferable.

Donghyuck and Jaemin were currently giving Renjun the rundown of what had happened. Jeno, on the other hand, had never wanted to die so bad. Maybe it was some sort of curse, but there seemed to be a pattern of bully victims in the households being the men who were interested in a girl.

“I won’t lie,” Renjun started, turning to look at Jeno, “I got secondhand embarrassment listening to that.”

“Thanks Renjun,” Jeno replied flatly.

“Did you ever find out what happened between her and that dude?” Donghyuck asked.

Jeno recalled their conversation after class was over. He had mentioned the topic very vaguely, and then you went off on a tangent about how the guy was hitting on you at a party, and then you found out he had a girlfriend as he was practically begging you for sex. Thankfully, nothing had happened, but you were very unsettled that he was shamelessly cheating on his girlfriend.

When Jeno asked if you were going to tell his girlfriend, a coy smile spread across your lips before you showed him the text messages you sent her.

“Just some idiot trying to keep her quiet after he was trying to get in her pants,” Jeno replied, disgusted, “and he has a girlfriend.”

“Some people are just grown adults with the brains of a child,” Renjun muttered, shaking his head. Once the slightly uncomfortable silence settled—one that Jeno assumed was out of respect for your unfortunate situation—Renjun cleared his throat and asked, “So, is she nice?”

“Nice?” Jeno frowned. “Well, from what I noticed—yeah.”

“Renjun just wants to know if you’d cuff her,” Jaemin clarified, looking down as if he was more invested in his Chipotle bowl than his housemate’s love life.

“That’s not what I meant!” Renjun protested, but then he turned to Jeno again. “But, uh… would you?”

It wasn’t like Jeno hadn’t thought about that question eventually coming up, but he had just met you and wasn’t keen on answering right away. While you seemed sweet, there was still a lot that Jeno didn’t know about you. He was never the type to rush into relationships, which is why his situationships in the past never worked out; they always got tired of waiting for Jeno to make a move.

That was probably something he should be working on.

“I’m happy being single,” he answered, “and I like our little bachelor pact, save for Renjun.”

“Gee, thanks,” Renjun muttered.

“You should invite her out with us,” Donghyuck replied, and Jeno knew that was just his way of saying he was going to tease them ruthlessly.

He chewed on his salad, thoughtful. “I think I’ll hang out with her one-on-one first.”

Lee Jeno was a man of his word, so when you showed up to Structural Design a week later, you had been successfully enrolled in the class.

You slid in the empty seat next to Jeno with a grin. “I owe you big time.”

If this was some formality, Jeno felt worse and worse by your actions. He appreciated your kindness, but he wasn’t ready to break the news that he might have accidentally left out. He felt like Adam in Michaelangelo’s The Creation of Adam, except God wasn’t reaching toward Jeno to breathe life into him; Jeno was desperately trying to get the higher power to pull him out of this horrifying situation.

Perhaps you were starting to notice, too, based on how the atmosphere in the classroom shifted from its normal lecture days. It was almost obvious with how students were either buried in their notes or frantically flipping through their textbooks.

“I wouldn’t say big time,” Jeno mumbled. He sheepishly grinned before muttering, “I might have forgotten to tell you that we have a midterm today.”

Your face went a little slack.

“What?!”

You looked around you in a panic before slumping back in your seat, both hands covering your face. Jeno wasn’t sure what expression you were wearing behind them, but it couldn’t have been good.

“I’m sorry!” he apologized quickly. “Honest to God—it totally slipped my mind.”

“I’m done for,” you replied, sorrowful. “First official day in this class, and I’m gonna fail.”

Jeno balked. He had shattered any chances of a friendship with you. This would probably be the last time you ever sat next to him again. He tossed around the idea of letting you cheat off him, but Jeno played by the rules; he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he got caught helping someone cheat.

He ended up not being able to say anything to you. Despite how many times he ran through different dialogues in his head, none of them sounded good enough to ease your worries. There was no shortcut to redemption from here, so Jeno was doomed—a little dramatic, too, but mostly just doomed.

He attentively listened as the professor spoke briefly before passing out the exam, trying to ignore the distress that was just emanating from you. He kept his eyes down as he passed you the other exam packet he got, physically swallowing down the guilt that was eating at him. Jeno knew deep down that it wasn’t even that big of a deal, but he felt horrible for potentially ruining your chances of switching into the class.

“Oh, Y/N,” the professor began, grabbing the paper that was in front of you, “since you joined pretty late, I don’t think you’ll be ready for the midterm. I’ll excuse you from this exam, and you can just complete the assignments you’ve missed.”

“Thank you so much,” you gushed. “That’s such a relief to hear.”

Girls were scary, Jeno decided.

One minute you were glaring daggers at him, and then the next you were buzzing with joy. When Jeno shot you a wary look, testing the waters before he could smile, you just smirked back at him and caused him to malfunction. With that, you made your exit, leaving Jeno at a crossroads, not knowing whether to feel relieved or terrified.

Focus, Jeno. Focus on structures and beams.

“I want to remind everyone to show their work on their paper,” the professor reminded, “and, yes, Heeseung, for that last question I do want you all to find the derivation of the equations for the determination of internal forces in the three-hinged arch.”

Piece of cake. Jeno had spent all night studying the stress distribution across beams and the design of its flexural reinforcements, so he was—

Hold on.

After fully processing the words that came out of his professor’s mouth, Jeno was mortified. The sinking feeling in his chest had capsized and fallen into a pit in his stomach.

He studied the wrong chapter.

Jeno was walking out of the lecture hall with sagged shoulders when he heard your voice ring from beside him, “Why the long face?”

He was startled for a moment, wondering why you were even there. He had taken an hour and a half to go over the exam thoroughly before giving up and turning it in, so that was far too much time for you to wait around. Part of him was rather fond at the thought of you waiting around for him, though.

“Probably failed that test,” Jeno replied, as if he was completely unfazed by your presence. “That midterm was not about structures and beams.”

“That’s tough.”

Jeno had to keep himself from glaring at you, but he supposed he was failing by the way you shrank back at his eyes narrowing. “You got it lucky.”

“I just switched in!” you defended.

“Well—yeah, I guess…” Jeno mumbled. He was stuck between wanting to act childish and wanting to numb himself from the pain of failing his test. So, he offered, “Wanna get away for a bit with me?”

“You have class at noon.”

“After that, I mean.”

You blinked at him before responding, “I’m down. Actually, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to hang out because we don’t know each other that well. Might as well get comfy if we’re gonna be classmates, you know?”

Jeno grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“By the way,” you started, “if you had my number, you could’ve just texted me about the midterm.”

“But I don’t—”

“So”—you paused and pulled out a Sharpie from your bag, uncapping it to scribble down your number on Jeno’s hand—“I’ll just give it to you.”

Jeno smiled down at you as you held his hand carefully, writing your number down all the way across his palm. The way your tongue stuck out while you were concentrating was absolutely adorable. Maybe it was him feeling absolutely defeated after that exam or maybe it was the way Jeno could smell the lingering Cocoa Butter Kiss Body Splash coming from you, but he was overtaken by the urge to indulge himself.

Come to think of it, Jeno hadn’t even figured out where he wanted to take you when he proposed it earlier. He had just been speaking his unfiltered thoughts without processing them.

So, like a fool, Jeno blurted out, “Are you down to Netflix and chill?”

You agreed.

It was surprising. Jeno was actually waiting for you to shoot him down. He hadn’t expected you to look up at him with those innocent eyes and nod so cheerfully. For a moment, he was wondering if you had misinterpreted his words, but then you were asking where his house was, so Jeno assumed you had some understanding of the implication.

He made sure that his housemates were away, so he offered up his house. You seemed more than willing to go over even when Jeno informed you that you two would be alone.

He didn’t expect you to take it so literally.

He was baffled that he had actually spent the past four hours watching Shokugeki no Soma with you. Maybe it was the fact that you two were watching a slice of life anime that made it hard to set the mood, but Jeno assumed you got the hint that “Netflix and chill” had a sexual undertone. He wasn’t going to make you uncomfortable by making a move, though, so Jeno sat back and resented how the anime characters were seeing more clothes coming off than he was.

You weren’t supposed to actually chill; you were supposed to jump his bones and show him the light.

On the bright side, Jeno felt better knowing that his housemates weren’t home while you were over. There was a high possibility that Donghyuck would somehow ruin this date or make Jeno feel like he wanted to die. He could almost hear the echoes of his friends laughing at him, and Jeno was certain the lack of action he was getting was making him go crazy.

“They always drop their pants over food,” you commented, snickering at the show of several garments flying off on the screen.

“Makes it hard to believe this is just a slice of life anime,” Jeno replied, and he was a touch bitter that he didn’t use his turn in the conversation for a pickup line instead. “Do you usually watch this genre?”

“Yeah, sometimes. This show’s really popular, though, so I’m excited to watch the rest with my friend.”

Huh? You were supposed to watch it with him.

Maybe this really was supposed to be completely platonic. Jeno was starting to suspect he got the mood wrong earlier and you took his invitation as something friendly. The worst situation was unfolding in front of him right now, and Jeno didn’t know how to salvage it.

Jeno was being stupid. He barely knew you to begin with. How could he expect such a commitment from you?

He raised a brow. “Oh? Do you usually watch with other people then?”

“Not really,” you answered. “I just knew we would be too preoccupied to finish it.”

“Preoccupied? With what?”

Jeno’s mouth went dry when your hand slid onto his knee, and his head started spinning when you dragged your nail up to his thigh. He was finding it hard to figure out what to focus on when you started leaning in closer, too. Your proximity was intoxicating, your touch was driving him crazy, and he couldn’t even breathe properly when you were giving him the bedroom eyes.

“What do you think, Jeno?” you asked with a little giggle. “You’ve been eye-fucking me all night, and I was starting to think you weren’t gonna get around to the chill part of Netflix and chill.”

Holy fuck. Jeno must have saved a kingdom in his past life.

Part of him was amazed that you took four whole hours to make a move on him, but he had no room to complain when he had been holding back the entire time. The other half of him, though, was just itching to tear off your clothes and fuck you into the couch. Jeno wasn’t sure if you liked it rough, and he didn’t want to test the waters after seeing you knock the daylights out of a six-foot-two man.

Plus, he wanted to be gentle with you (for the first time, at least). Although his carnal instincts urged him otherwise, he wanted to treat you like a princess.

“Jeno,” you repeated, hooking your leg around his waist and sliding onto his lap. Jeno was taken aback when you straddled him, immediately moving his hands to grab your waist. You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him toward you, whispering in his ear, “Make it up to me and fuck my brains out.”

Scratch being gentle.

It appeared that you weren’t as soft and pliable as he had thought.

“God, you’re driving me crazy,” Jeno growled before grabbing the back of your neck and pressing his lips to yours. He was delighted by your muffled whimper, feeling more encouraged when you tugged his hair. Jeno slid his tongue past your lips, coaxing you to deepen the kiss further. He pulled away a little to murmur against your lips, “Want me to go slow?”

You shook your head, shuddering at the close proximity and your hot breaths fanning against each other. “I don’t wanna go slow,” you whispered.

Although you were so insistent on Jeno being rough with you, he was still gentle when he replied, “Whatever pace you want.” He brushed your loose hair out of your face. The eager look on your face just made him want to tease you. “You sure you can take it?”

You nodded once more, and Jeno grabbed ahold of your hips, rocking them slowly against his. You started to match his rhythm perfectly, whining with each roll of your hips that caused your cunt to rub against his growing bulge. He paused for a moment as he tugged your shorts down, making you lift your hips so he could remove them. There was a timbre in Jeno’s voice when he told you he was going to go harder, and all you could do was grab onto the front of his shirt and beg for more. In a twisted way, he liked having you so helpless on his lap.

Jeno’s lips met yours once more in a fit of passion, tongue sliding against yours as his fingers dug into your waist. He switched positions, flipping you over so that your back was on the couch and he was hovering over you.

The moment Jeno dragged his fingers from your hips to the front of your underwear, he noticed you squirming instantly. The sight made his lips curl into a smirk, not halting his slow, torturous motions with his fingers. Barely grazing his hands against your cunt, and Jeno already had you whining for him.

“Feels good,” you breathed out. Jeno could tell you were playing it up just to get more, and he had to appreciate the effort you were putting in. “Jeno, please…” you trailed off, hands reaching down to slowly trace the veins on his hand.

“Hm? You like my fingers?” he asked, feigning sympathy.

His voice was honey in your ears, and you were melting at the very words. Jeno was startled when you nodded, pulling his hand up so that you could suck on his fingers—so that you could show him how badly you wanted him. He stared at your lips wrapped around his digits in complete awe. Your tongue moving around his fingers was making him go crazy; it burned like a fire, like a sin. It completely doused Jeno’s fiery confidence, leaving him gawking at you.

You took the lead this time, pressing your lips to Jeno’s swiftly. What started chaste and gentle soon turned languid and hot, with Jeno chasing the taste of your tongue each time.

There was something he felt when he made out with girls in the past. It was this hazy, clouded daze in his head, like he couldn’t think straight. This time, however, Jeno had never been so alert and clear-headed. Sure, his thoughts were mainly composed of tearing your clothes off, but he was so grounded in the moment, wanting it to last for as long as it could.

When Jeno pulled away, you were both staring at each other with blown-out pupils and swollen lips. Jeno was praying his flushed cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt.

He liked your pretty lips far too much to rush things, but he agreed he would be rough. Jeno was, at his core, a man of his word.

“I’m gonna fuck you against the wall.”

“Huh?”

While you were staring at him with wide eyes, Jeno shifted off the couch to scoop you up, holding you steady by your thighs. You were clearly shocked by his strength, yelping initially before wrapping your arms and legs around him. Jeno appreciated how adaptable you were when you started stringing kisses from the corner of his lip to his jaw.

He had your back up against the wall, and his own body was pressed flush against yours.

The bed was no longer an option. Jeno was too drunk on your taste to think about moving all the way to his room, and he didn’t even care if Jaemin were to walk inside right now. (Maybe he would feel some shame if it were Donghyuck or Renjun, though; he knew he would never hear the end of it from those two.)

Clothes were taken off, strewn aside, and Jeno couldn’t help but smirk as he circled the pad of his thumb around your bare nipple, admiring how beautiful you looked when you were fully nude. You helped Jeno with taking off his own clothes, as well, and he grinned, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose.

Although Jeno had reiterated several times that he would go rough, he was still a softie at heart.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t go hard, though. This was just the build-up, and Jeno lived for the foreplay.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, peppering featherlight kisses to your lips, “you’re so fucking pretty.”

His lips traveled down your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along its column until he reached your collarbone. Jeno’s teeth razed the tender skin, sucking delicately until he left bruises down your neck and along your shoulders.

You swallowed, instinctively bringing your hand up to tug his hair. “What if someone sees?” you asked.

Jeno hardly even flinched at the possibility. “Let them.”

There was a shift in the air, and maybe it was because of the thought that crossed Jeno’s head—that you didn’t want anyone to know what you two were getting up to. He started biting harder. Sucking harder.

“Why?” he asked between love bites. He let his tongue graze over your bruised skin. “You don’t want them to?”

You shook your head quickly, hips stuttering to a stop. You looked Jeno dead in the eye.

“No, I do.”

Jeno sighed quietly—a little happily, if you were able to pick up on that—and he tugged his boxers down so that his cock sprang out. You marveled at his size, and that only made Jeno’s ego inflate further.

“You want it?” he mumbled in your ear. “Want me buried inside that tight cunt of yours?”

You whined at his words, which turned Jeno on even more. He thought he would go crazy if he couldn’t push himself inside you soon. His cock was already throbbing painfully.

Your eyes were screwed shut. “Please, Jeno,” you breathed out. “Want it so bad.”

“Look at me and tell me what you want me to do.”

Jeno was amused as your eyes fluttered open, half-lidded but still meeting his gaze. He continued the torturous roll of his hips as he waited for your answer, even teasing your clothed cunt with the head of his cock. He was itching to tear off the fabric that was holding him back.

You hummed. “Can you do something for me?”

Jeno leaned in and whispered against the shell of your ear, “Anything.”

“I want you to eat me out.”

It was as if some beast deep within Jeno had been waiting for your confirmation, waiting to snap.

He wasn’t sure if he was testing the waters or diving in head-first anymore. Nevertheless, Jeno started kissing down your body, making his way from your chest, to your stomach, to your hips, and down to your inner thighs. Every breathless whimper from you encouraged him further, and Jeno was ready to give you what you wanted already.

Unfortunately for you, Jeno was an absolute tease.

His palms gripped the back of your thighs, sliding forward until they were gripping your hips. He bit down on the lace of your underwear and dragged it down your legs, looking up at you with a smirk as he did, enjoying the flustered look on your face.

“Want my fingers, too?” Jeno asked, positioning himself and spreading your legs apart more. You were looking at him like you were surprised that he was offering both, and all Jeno could do was grin.

“Please,” you begged.

Jeno licked one long stripe along your lips, hot and wet and messy. It was like the first taste of poison that spurred him to drink more. Your hips started squirming at the contact, and he had to push them back against the wall. He moved back up to kiss your clit, ghosting his lips along your folds. However, Jeno wasn’t satisfied by your stifled sighs and whines; he knew you could be louder if you let yourself go.

So, Jeno grabbed ahold of one of your legs, ignoring your yelp of surprise, and he waited for you to balance on the other before he draped it over his shoulder. This gave him a better angle to devour you, so he dove right in, licking and sucking on your cunt like a starved man.

That got you moaning, and Jeno felt proud that he could make you feel that good. He settled for sucking on your clit gently, showing special attention to that little ball of nerves until you were sobbing and crying out his name. His cock was aching by this point, and he didn’t want you to be sore before he fucked you, so Jeno decided to finally aid your incoming orgasm with his fingers.

He went back to eating out your cunt, using his fingers to rub your clit in precise circles. Your cries were seared into his memory, like a melody he couldn’t escape. It was making him feel like he was on fire, inciting a groan from the back of his throat.

The desperation was thick in your voice. “I-I’m so close…”

“I got you,” Jeno mumbled against your cunt, and he slid two fingers inside you just as you came.

He guided you throughout your orgasm, continuing to kitten lick at your engorged clit and fingering you as you rode out your high. Jeno could feel your walls contracting, and the feeling must have been so intense for you because he felt your legs starting to shake as well. Your other leg was on the verge of buckling and collapsing, so Jeno held you steady by gripping your knee.

“So good for me,” Jeno moaned, “so fucking good and obedient for me, doll.”

This was what Jeno loved about wall sex. He loved watching you struggle to stay upright as he fucked you out. He loved the tension despite being in such an uncomfortable position. He loved feeling you grab onto him for leverage since there was nothing else you could do.

“How was that?” Jeno asked once the pulsing of your walls slowed to a twitch. He gently removed your leg from his shoulder and stood up so that he was cornering you against the wall again. “You want more, don’t you?”

Dazed, you bit down on your lower lip, nodding dumbly at his question. You weren’t even trying to speak, though, so Jeno gripped your jaw.

“Words, angel,” he ordered.

You whimpered, gripping the front of his shirt. “I need you to fuck me already.”

Gaze on your lips, Jeno only nodded before sealing your mouth with his again. You sighed into his mouth blissfully, sliding your hands up to wrap around his neck once more. Jeno scooped you up and brought you back to the couch.

You giggled. “TV’s still on.”

“You’re gonna have to be extra loud for me, then,” Jeno replied, grinning as he got on top of you. He ran his hands along the curves of your body, exhaling slowly in utter admiration. “You ready for me?”

“Of course,” you breathed out.

He reached for his wallet first to pull out the spare condom he kept inside. When he was taking it out, you raised a brow at him.

“Is that a condom?” you asked.

“No—seasoning packet.”

You rolled your eyes. “Very funny.”

Jeno smiled at you before he used his teeth to tear the wrapper off, sliding the rubber onto his cock. Once he rolled it onto his length, he looked at you to make sure you were still okay with this. The way you reached for his cock, pumping it once and rousing a groan from Jeno, though, was very telling.

Jeno licked two of his fingers and brought them down to rub against your folds, smirking at how you squirmed and whined for him. He pulled away and pressed his fingers against your lips, urging you to open up. Soon, you wrapped your pretty lips around his fingers and sucked on them obediently. His cock twitched, as if it was telling him to hurry the fuck up already. Jeno thought he would never be able to get tired of the breathtaking sight.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he groaned.

With that, Jeno pulled his fingers away and leaned down to peck your lips softly before he slid inside you. Your eyes widened and a gasp tore its way past your lips, and the way Jeno was splitting you apart made you feel like fine china shattering into pieces. Jeno himself was overwhelmed by the sensation; the way you sucked him in was bringing his entire world down.

God, now Jeno understood why men went to war over women in the past. This was earth-shattering.

Jeno removed your legs from where they were wrapped around his waist, and he pushed them up so that they were closer to your chest. He groaned as he bottomed out inside you, relishing each cry and whimper that fell from your lips. The way your walls tightened around his cock made him feel desperate more; one taste and Lee Jeno wanted your everything.

“That’s it,” he grunted. “Take it—take it all, doll.”

Jeno started moving inside you at a steady pace once you were adjusted to his size. He pulled your hands off of him, interlocking your fingers with his and holding them above you. Watching your gaze turn lustful and your tits bounce as Jeno pounded into you was quite the sight. He fucked into you harder, slowing down for more precise thrusts.

“F-faster,” you begged, eyes trained where the two of you were connected, where his cock was buried deep in your cunt.

“You want me to ruin you, huh?” Jeno questioned in a low voice, his voice so featherlight that he wondered if you could hear it over the sound of skin slapping. “Want me to fuck you ‘till you’re sore.”

“Yes—fuck, yes.”

Jeno sped up his thrusts, groaning as his hips slammed against yours. He repositioned himself so that he was sitting up more, and it was mostly so that Jeno could push down on your stomach as he fucked you to see if he could feel his cock moving inside of you. When he did feel it moving under your stomach, Jeno’s cock twitched inside of you, causing you to cry his name out.

You didn’t verbalize it, but Jeno could tell you were reaching your orgasm once again. The way you started to seize up, mouth parting as your eyes were lost trying to make sense of the blinding pleasure, was enough for Jeno to draw the conclusion that you were very close. He, too, felt his pleasure teetering over the edge, daring to spill over.

So, with one last groan, he buried his face in your neck and came. Good could hardly scratch the surface on how it felt. Jeno felt like he had experienced an explosion of pleasure after holding back for so long.

However, his job wasn’t done; he still had to take care of you. Jeno grabbed ahold of your hips firmly and fucked into you at a swifter pace, trying to get you to your orgasm despite his sore and aching cock. The overstimulation had him practically whimpering as he fucked you harder.

You were finally at your peak, coming undone in front of him with your eyes rolling back and your jaw helplessly gone slack. Jeno smirked, wondering if he had fucked you dumb, and his smile faded when he realized he probably had. He held you in his arms, kissing your cheeks gently as you twitched and squirmed, fighting the waves of pleasure that were starting to subside.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a soft murmur, stroking your hair. “You were so good for me.”

Your chest was heaving like you had just run a marathon. “That was the best sex of my life.”

“Don’t stroke my ego.”

“I’m serious.”

(After that, Jeno invited you to wash up with him, which vaguely translated into shower sex. He helped you wash your hair and scrub your body with soap, slathering the suds all over your body. Then, Jeno pushed you against the wall after you washed off, kissing your neck with vigor before turning you around.

Jeno groped your tits as he slid inside you, taking you from the back. He pounded into you for a few minutes before you were going limp against the wall, needing Jeno to hold you up and keep you grounded.)

You were so sore and fucked-out by the end that Jeno was worried he had gone too hard on you. He helped you dry yourself with the towel and dried your hair with the hairdryer once he gave you clothes to change into. He even ordered take-out for the two of you and had dinner with you in his bed. You two talked about architecture and your dreams, and then you started talking about what shows you wanted to watch next.

Jeno was trying to decode your words in case you were talking about sex positions, but, no, you were legitimately talking about Netflix shows.

He offered you sleeping over, mostly because he didn’t want you to leave nor did he want to sleep alone after such a sensual night. Thankfully, you accepted his offer and Jeno found himself spooning you in bed. He nestled his chin in the crook of your neck and realized he had never felt so cozy and relaxed with someone in his arms. (Once he slept over in Minjeong’s bed and she kicked him out in her sleep.)

“Hey,” you whispered. Jeno hummed sleepily, acknowledging your words, and you continued, “Thanks for today. It was a lot of fun.”

Jeno tightened his grip on you. “I had a lot of fun, too.” He moved his lips to your ear. “Maybe we could do this again some other time.”

“I’m free this weekend,” you offered.

“Perfect.”

Jeno smiled and thought about all the new things he could try with you. Hopefully, it wouldn’t take you both four hours to get to business. Jeno spent more time waiting to fuck you on that couch than actually fucking you.

He froze upon a newfound, horrifying realization. You must have noticed him stiffening up because you turned your head a little, looking concerned.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

Jeno swallowed thickly. “I just realized we broke the ‘no sex on the couch’ rule.”

This was how the exchanges usually went.

Jeno would make an excuse to come over to your place—something along the lines of “we didn’t finish that show,” which was completely bullshit because you two never finished shows—and then he would fuck you on every surface imaginable. This time around, however, you were going over to the Bitch Hunters’ residence, and Jeno was absolutely terrified because he would be breaking the one unspoken rule that didn’t make it to the contract.

No sex on the couch.

(He broke this rule the first time, actually. He felt horrible about it and skipped class to deep-clean the couch.)

Sex on the couch was Jeno’s favorite, though. It presented the challenge of finding a way to get into a comfortable position, but it was also so accessible to use. He especially loved being over you so that he could show off how huge his muscles were, and balancing his weight on furniture with minimal surface area was the best way to display that.

It wasn’t that Jeno was scared to bend the rules of the contract—actually, scratch that; he was terrified. He wanted to respect his housemates, and fucking you on the couch that everyone sat on was going against that.

They had to have known that Jeno was planning to have sex on the couch, though. Jaemin had already teased him about his “Netflix and chill” date this morning, and everyone else decided to clear out of the house for tonight. Renjun was at his girlfriend’s place, Donghyuck was hanging out with Yoo Jimin, and Jaemin was getting munchies with a friend. Jeno felt like he had unknowingly sexiled them, and he felt a little guilty about it.

When you showed up around thirty minutes after his housemates left, Jeno couldn’t help but think about how thin the material of your dress was. Naturally, all thoughts of protecting the poor couch disappeared (again).

He swooped down to peck your lips before you walked in, and then Jeno spent the next five minutes wondering if he was even supposed to greet his hookup with a peck on the lips. You both wound up settling on a random episode of Never Have I Ever. It wasn’t like either of you were actually interested in the show; it was just easy to ignore as it played in the background.

(However, you told Jeno earlier that you two had to watch Don’t Fuck With Cats, and that he would face the consequences if he fucked you senseless before then. So, Jeno complied and put the show on.)

Five minutes of catching up and you two ended up making out on the couch, Jeno’s hand sliding to your lower back and pulling you flush against his body. What first was kissing turned to a heated makeout session, and that quickly turned to Jeno rolling his hips against your clothed cunt. It was almost painful how hard his cock was in his sweatpants.

He grunted quietly. “Fuck, that’s it,” Jeno growled out, his thrusts turning sharper and more eager. All he wanted to do was tear your clothes off and start fucking you; dry humping was only doing so much to satiate his libido.

“I thought we… were watching—a-ah!—Don’t Fuck With C-Cats,” you got out, whimpering each time Jeno thrusted against you at a brutal pace.

You were definitely insane, Jeno deliberated, or maybe it was the entire female population in general. You decked a beefy-looking man with a stack of engineering paper, willingly chose to switch into architectural engineering, and now you were thinking about a serial killer documentary right before Jeno was about to fuck the daylights out of you.

“We can watch it later,” he growled, pinning your hips down against the couch. “I’m a little preoccupied right now.”

You whined, arching your back and hiking up the skirt of your dress so that Jeno could simper at your soaked underwear. He could tell he was embarrassing you, and, better yet, he could tell it was turning you on.

“Jeno.” You had never called out his name so seriously, punctuating it like a slap to the face. It pulled him out of the fog, looking right into your eyes. “Fuck me already.”

“Anything for you.”

He wasted no time undressing you, tugging your underwear past your ankles and helping you pull your dress off. When you were fully naked, it was your turn to help Jeno remove his clothes. Part of him swelled with joy when he noticed that you didn’t shy away from him once, like you were finally perfectly comfortable being so vulnerable in front of Jeno.

“Choke me,” you pleaded. It was completely out-of-the-blue for Jeno, but it had surely been on your mind for a while.

Oh. That was new.

“You’re such a weirdo,” he chastised, but the both of you were very well aware of his cock twitching at your words.

“I’m not a weirdo,” you defended, then smirked. “Plus, I can feel how excited you are to try it out.”

“Got me there.”

Jeno wrapped his fingers around your neck, not adding any pressure at first so it was more for decoration. Then, he squeezed the sides gently, watching your lips part in surprise. Jeno rubbed your cunt to prep you, and he slowly increased the pressure on your neck when he felt you getting wetter. Then, he started rubbing the head of his cock along your folds.

He called out your name in that low register of his when he slid right into you, holding your legs apart so that you wouldn’t squirm. It was slow and sensual, but the moment he felt your walls throbbing around his cock, Jeno couldn’t hold back anymore. By the way you rocked your hips against his, it was clear that you didn’t want him to hold back either.

“J-Jeno, you feel—”

Jeno clamped a hand over your mouth, smirking at the half-dazed, half-stunned look in your eyes. “Angel, did you forget you’re supposed to be quiet? My roommates might be out of the house, but I still have neighbors.”

You nodded, eyes practically glowing at his words. Jeno liked how you could switch up from bratty to obedient in seconds, and he would never admit it, but he got a kick out of you being so compliant with him. It was the biggest power trip for him.

He fucked you deep and slow, and you didn’t beg him to go faster or try to get yourself off as fast as you could. It was like you were enjoying the moment with him, enjoying feeling so connected like this.

Jeno felt something rising to the surface, like it was about to boil over. He didn’t have time to be rational or think straight when he was so immersed in pleasure, but he felt so vulnerable and weak with you in his arms.

Then, your walls were pulsating around his cock, squeezing him in such a way that he was cumming next. Jeno groaned lowly against your skin, whispering sweet nothings as you sobbed throughout your orgasm. Somehow, the intimacy made Jeno’s orgasm feel ten times more powerful.

“I want this,” he breathed out, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “I want you, Y/N—want you more than anything else.”

Jeno’s lips trembled against your skin. He was terrified for your response, terrified that you could end things right now. He contemplated getting off of you and clearing the air, but something told him to stop lying to you about what he truly wanted from this.

Seconds passed. Minutes. Jeno’s heart was pounding because you two were just holding each other, you stroking his hair in soothing motions while he laid on top of you.

After several agonizing minutes, you finally whispered, “I want you, too.”

You laid like that for hours, neither of you moving or saying anything. You two just listened to each other’s heartbeats in utter silence, and it was comforting.

Other than the fact that Jeno was starting to realize that he was developing real feelings for you, and that made losing you feel a lot scarier.

Before Jeno was about to announce to his housemates that he was going to ask you out, he had to make a formal apology. So, being the honest man he was, Lee Jeno got down on his knees while his three friends were watching a SpongeBob SquarePants rerun.

They were all, of course, concerned for their friend. Sure, Jeno did stupid things here and there (and it was often Renjun that asked him if he the clouds he floated in were even in our atmosphere), but, this time, they were all staring at him in sheer confusion.

Jaemin raised a brow. “Jeno? Are you on drugs?”

“I wanna apologize to you guys,” Jeno said, raising his head to meet their eyes. “I fucked Y/N on the couch.”

Donghyuck gaped at him. “Wh—”

“Twice,” Jeno admitted.

Renjun’s jaw dropped—almost comically—and he grabbed the arm of the couch to lift himself from the seat. “This couch? Why would you tell us that information while we’re sitting on it?”

“I cleaned it with the steam cleaner right after! Both times!” Jeno added quickly to ease their worries. Renjun sighed in relief and sat back down on the cushion. “I felt so bad after breaking our contract, so I did a deep clean after Y/N left.”

“I really appreciate your honesty, Jeno,” Renjun started, “but, honestly, I could’ve gone my entire life without knowing Y/N got railed on the couch that we’re watching fucking SpongeBob on.”

Jeno grinned sheepishly. “My bad.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Also, I’m planning on asking Y/N out soon, and I sort of need your guys’ help.”

“Good!” Donghyuck huffed. “You better go out with her after all the emotional trauma you’ve put poor Larry through.”

Jaemin frowned. “Who’s Larry?”

“Our couch, Jaemin.”

“Who named our couch after Harry Styles’ and Louis Tomlinson’s ship name?”

“Our couch is no longer named Larry,” Donghyuck announced, mortified.

Renjun rolled his eyes at his friends, and he turned to Jeno once again. “What do you need us to help you with?”

Jeno sucked in a sharp breath. “Well…”

Lee Jeno wanted to ask you out in the most romantic way. His gesture had to be absolutely golden—something you would remember for the rest of your life. His plan was almost perfect; he had sent you on a very small wild goose chase while he was setting up the last part of his scavenger hunt for you. It was composed of all of the places that reminded him of you.

Jaemin was stationed at the place on campus where Jeno first met you. The clue he sent you was pretty straightforward: Go to the place where you decked that creep A.K.A the first place we met. When Jeno received the text from Jaemin that he had given you the bouquet of flowers and the next clue, the second part of the scavenger hunt was underway.

Renjun was situated in front of the building where Jeno hit on you for the first time. Not that this clue was hard or anything, but he knew that you would recognize the classroom you waited outside of while Jeno failed his midterm. (He later wondered if that was probably more of a traumatic memory for him, and perhaps he had miscalculated the romantic aspect of this plan). To his relief, Renjun was able to hand you the box of chocolates along with the third and final clue.

The paper slip read Netflix and chill, and Jeno was sure you would know exactly where to go. Donghyuck was standing outside the house with a key for you. Jeno had set up a picnic for the two of you in the living room, complete with candles and your favorite movies ready to watch on the TV. He had also prepared a slideshow of his favorite moments with you; it was cheesy, but he really wanted to show you he cared. All he had to do now was hang up the letters he had drawn and cut out that read “Will You Go Out With Me?”

His plan was almost perfect.

His mistake, however, was asking Donghyuck for help.

jeno: can you stall y/n for 10 min before you let her in the house? im almost done

hyuck: aight i’ll let her in

jeno: WTFFF DID U EVEN READ WHAT I SENT

To his horror, Jeno heard the key click before the door opened. He didn’t even want to turn and see you standing at the doorway, still mentally cursing out Donghyuck for half-assing his job and getting the hell out of there so that he wouldn’t have to face Jeno’s wrath.

You sounded bewildered when you read aloud, “Will… you… go?”

Jeno was not able to hang up the last three words in time.

So, he grabbed each word and held two in either hand, and he held up the middle one with his teeth. Jeno finally turned to you and kneeled under the words on the wall, hoping this had cleared everything up for good. This was probably the messiest confession considering he had put so much thought and effort into it, but Jeno hoped you would at least like the apple pie he made.

“Will you go me with out.”

Jeno switched around the papers he was holding.

“Will you go out with me?” you corrected. Jeno looked at you expectantly before you broke into a fit of giggles, still clutching your rose bouquet and box of chocolates tightly. “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for you to ask me for ages!”

A flood of relief washed through his body. Jeno felt each and every nerve of his physically unravel and settle down. He had been so on-edge about asking you out that he didn’t realize how instinctively tense he was these past few days.

“I really like you, Y/N,” Jeno said, smiling, “and I wanna get to know you better, so can we graduate from Netflix and chill to actual dates?”

You grinned. “I like the sound of that.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I suppose a picnic at home is the perfect place to start.”

Jeno slung his arm around your waist and started explaining all the dishes he made for you, thrilled at the way your eyes lit up at every single one. He sat with you on the blanket and helped you taste from each of the plates before you picked one to start with. (You really liked the apple pie, and it made Jeno swell with joy.)

It was true that Jeno probably didn't have all of his columns and beams in place to form the structure of a relationship. All this time, he thought he was the one who was supposed to set the foundation and lay the materials out. Now, though, he realized that he could build up the framework with you, and it wasn’t so bad having someone who could understand him through and through.

Lee Jeno loved the structure and analysis that went into architectural engineering. He loved the calculations and hands-on work he had to do in order to solve a problem.

He loved building things—working toward creating his own future, his own life. Jeno preferred taking control in that regard.

Now, though, he was more than happy to share the reins with you.

Lee Donghyuck and Na Jaemin sat at a park bench, contemplating getting high off their asses to distract themselves from how they felt like complete losers. After helping Jeno with his plan and getting the confirmation text from their friend that it actually worked out, the two boys realized that they were now fighting for second-to-last place.

“You know why the two of you haven’t gotten girlfriends yet?” Renjun reprimanded them earlier. “It’s because you guys keep seeing this as a competition.”

Donghyuck was an honest man, most of the time. Although it made him sound like a shitty person, it was true that he had a competitive streak. The fact that Renjun and Jeno were kicking his ass was pride-crushing. He couldn’t believe he, Lee Donghyuck, was vying for last place with Jaemin.

The two bitch hunters with the short end of the stick felt pathetic.

That being said, it wasn’t like Donghyuck wasn’t happy for Renjun or Jeno. In fact, he had been rooting for them the entire time and encouraging them to ask out the girls they liked. That’s what friends did; they supported each other until the very end. He wasn’t praying for their downfall, either. If Donghyuck truly wanted someone to fail, he would personally be involved in their downfall, and that wasn’t the case at all.

It was shitty—he knew that. Donghyuck couldn’t shake off the feeling of wanting to be first. He was too competitive for his own good, even if it was fun sometimes.

“Are we even gonna get girlfriends?” Jaemin questioned. “You know, we’ve lived an easy life—getting by with our pretty privilege. Maybe we were doomed to fail because we’ve been so careless.”

Donghyuck groaned. “Don’t say that! I’ll go crazy if I lose.” He sighed softly and pressed his lips together. “You know, I think we’ll be just fine. It would be criminal if we didn’t get cuffed.”

“You’re right,” Jaemin replied. “I’m a catch.”

“Well, I’m actually not so sure about you, but whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Jaemin laughed, pushing at his friend’s shoulder playfully.

That was how it was. Donghyuck never meant any of the jabs he made at his friends. He always sincerely supported them behind that joking facade of his. He truly did think Jaemin would find someone. Why wouldn’t he? Jaemin was probably one of the most attractive guys in their year. Once he got past all of the commitment issues and flightiness, he would have no problems cuffing that special someone.

“You know, I think we need to go out more,” Donghyuck said. “We need to start going to parties again.”

His friend raised a brow. “For what?”

“To meet people,” he explained. “It’s unlikely that we’re gonna fall for someone in our class like Jeno—”

Jaemin huffed. “Unlikely? Why?”

“Because you barely even go to your in-person classes, dumbass.”

“Point taken.”

“Renjun, on the other hand,” Donghyuck continued, “met his girlfriend at a party, and if he can do it, so can we.”

Jaemin nodded along to his words, holding out a hand for Donghyuck to shake. He took Jaemin’s hand and shook it firmly, as if this was a business deal they had just finalized.

“Speaking of parties,” Donghyuck started, “Yoo Jimin’s throwing a party tomorrow, and I think we should go.”

“Dude, she doesn’t want you.”

“I just said we’re going to her party!” Donghyuck exclaimed. “I’m not expecting anything, but if she happens to be into me, then that’s a win.”

Jaemin chuckled. “Keep dreaming.”

Deep down, though, both boys knew that Donghyuck was very capable of chasing after what he wanted. If who he wanted was Yoo Jimin, he was 100% confident he would successfully cuff her if he tried hard enough.

For now, though, Donghyuck watched the water ripple across the pond alongside his best friend.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE ON THIS ONE !!! let’s all celebrate league player no bitches lee jeno attaining his bitch <33 also half this fic was pure self indulgence and filth but yk it’s all for the vibes >:) i am very very excited to write hyuck’s and would start now but it’s late and i am using my energy to post this muah muah !! thank you for all the support on this series and the hype for this fic! i have been soooo blown away by the comments and reblogs and asks!! <3

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capricornlevi · 8 months

Text

noise complaints -- choso x reader

college au!choso x reader, RA!choso, secret relationship. wc 2.5k

MDNI, 18+ only. reader has a vagina but no gendered pronouns.

"he's at the door again!"

you hear utahime's shout from the bedroom next to yours but you don't answer, hoping she'll get the message from your pointed silence.

she doesn't.

"come on!" she protests through the paper-thin walls. "please! you're the only one he likes, we never get written up when you answer."

"turning the music down could help!" you shout back, but without much malice. it's 8pm on a friday, hardly unsociable hours, and the speaker isn't nearly as loud as some of the other dorms on your floor. it's not exam season; there's no reason why you need to be singled out for punishment.

plus, the only reason you're not in there with her -- drunkenly singing along to some autogenerated playlist that has 27 likes, sipping 'sangria' that's more like boxed red wine and soda -- is because she's on a date, one she's been looking forward to for some time now, one you helped her get ready for as she rambled anxiously about her plans for the evening.

you don't have it in you to begrudge her.

"fine," you sigh, rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hand.

two voices cheer victoriously from next door.

"we love you!"

you chuckle to yourself before it gets cut off by a yawn.

tossing your phone onto the bedside table, you stand up, rolling out a knot in your shoulder that you know will only get worse as the evening progresses.

time to go see the RA.

the shy, reserved, yet surprisingly strict RA. the one who has a particular hatred for noise complaints.

he's still knocking at your door; like utahime, he clearly doesn't take silence for an answer. you speed up to answer it before your roommate feels to need to intervene herself.

as you make your way down the hall, you wonder absent-mindedly if you should've changed into something more ... formal. your vest is nearly see-through, the fabric light and flimsy, but you rationalise it away.

it's summer. it's insufferably hot in the dorms, too uncomfortable to wear anything other than the bare minimum.

you're sure he won't mind. he's probably hot as well.

not dwelling on those thoughts any further, you open the door to find what you expected to see -- choso standing there, holding the tablet that the RAs are issued with to log complaints on their floor, chipped black nail polish clearly visible as he tucks the device against his chest.

he's wearing all black - as per usual - but he's swapped his typical hoodie and jeans for a t-shirt and light sweats, looking a little self-conscious as your eyes flicker up and down while taking in the change in outfit.

you grin. it's really endearing.

"hi, choso."

"hi," he replies, a blush staining his cheekbones already. his dark hair is swept back in its usual hairstyle, a few soft strands falling into his eyes before he brushes them out of the way. he gives you a look you're all too familiar with, peering up at you through frustratingly perfect eyelashes, dark brown eyes meeting yours with a forced confidence "you ... you probably know why i'm knocking."

"i can guess," you answer plainly, still smiling at him as he puts in significant effort in keeping his eyes fixed on your face.

he bites his lip, a silver ring catching the light as it shifts. "okay. the same as before, then."

"so you're here about the noise?" you offer innocently, gesturing down to utahime's room.

he looks confused for a moment, thin brows furrowing as he tries to piece together your reasoning.

eventually, he seems to understand what you're getting at. he raises his voice just loud enough that utahime can hear from down the hall.

"yeah, the noise. got a report in a few minutes ago, so --"

"of course," you reply diligently. "i understand."

"uh ... good. so we're clear, then."

he trails off a little awkwardly, and if it weren't for the darkening of his pupils you'd think he was actually discouraged by your responses. you wonder if you've put on too good of a show.

not willing to let that happen, your grin deepens as you lift your hand, take him by the collar and drag him in for a messy kiss, barely letting the door close behind him as you pull him inside.

the awkward, shy version of choso nearly disappears the moment his lips meet yours again; he's voracious, hungry, the cool metal of his piercing hitting off your teeth as he deepens the kiss within moments of touching you.

you're still just as surprised by this side of him, this layer you didn't know he had, the same as you were the first time this happened. you relish every time you get to see it.

from what he's alluded to before, nobody else has the privilege.

"w-wait," you whisper against his lips, kiss-slick and already swollen, "you have to be quiet. she ... it's too early for her to find out."

instead of answering, he fixes his lips to your pulse point, suckling at your neck as he backs you against the wall, your shoulderblades hitting against the cold plaster and raising your skin to goosebumps.

"choso -- choso, i'm not kidding," you protest half-heartedly, the whisper already torn and desperate. "we need to -- we need to get to my room, ok? then we can do whatever --"

before you've even finished the sentence he pulls back, face now fully flushed but not from embarrassment, not from self-consciousness.

"or i can eat you out right here?" he offers quietly, one hand on your waist as the other drifts lower, trailing up your thigh and along the hemline of your skirt. against your better judgment, your hips start to shift, chasing his touch, the sensation you know only his fingers can bring.

just then, the music coming from utahime's room pauses, plunging the apartment into a sudden silence.

choso's hand stills on your thigh; you barely breathe as you listen intently, waiting for utahime to burst through the door and discover you here in the most compromising of positions.

thankfully, it's just her switching the song. seconds later the music starts to play again and you hear her date's voice sing along, blissfully unaware of what's happening just feet away from them both.

taking that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom, you take choso's hand and guide him down the hall, single-minded in your goal.

he lets you, knowing that it will pay off.

once you're safely hidden away in your room, you move in tandem as he backs you up towards your twin bed, his lips only leaving your jawline when he needs to catch his breath.

this is going to be really fun.

before you can even repeat your warning to stay quiet, you're lying flat on your back on the mattress, your already-short skirt hiking up your thighs as you settle against the sheets.

choso grins when he sees your nipples pebble against the thin fabric of your vest. his hands trail up your body, thumbs tracing lazy circles as you wriggle to try and shimmy out of your clothes.

he doesn't rush you, though. from the look on his face, you'd guess he could just play with your tits all evening and be more than satisfied.

but you're not of the same opinion. you need his touch somewhere else, need it to the point of aching, and you tell him as much.

he's not the type to tease with words. he's quiet, deliberate, even right now -- but he doesn't need to say what he wants to do out loud. you know with just a look, the way his tongue plays with his lip piercing, the imprint of his cock through his sweats.

even though you've been in this exact situation before, you can't tear your eyes away from the sight of choso getting on his knees before you, tugging your underwear down your legs and pressing wet kisses to your sensitive inner thighs.

you almost cry out before remembering to cut yourself off. hastily covering for yourself, you start to warn him;

"we need to stay --"

"yeah, quiet. i know," he whispers with a smile, not willing to protest too much given the situation he's in now, the one he's pictured every time he's touched himself this past week, since he met you in the abandoned study closet on the third floor on saturday.

since he fucked you against the wall till tears streamed down your cheeks, until your thighs shook around his trim waist, limbs turned to jelly as he wrung orgasm after orgasm from you.

"promise?" you whisper with a little smile, knowing it won't affect your own answer.

your underwear now tossed to the side, he takes his thumb and index finger and spreads you open, the cool air over your exposed flesh making you gasp, reverent in how he looks at you.

"i'll try," comes his hushed answer, before he dips his head in to taste.

the first slide of his tongue has your breath catching in your throat, spine already arching off the bed as he moves slowly, methodically, savouring your taste before circling back on your clit, dragging the tip of his tongue over the hood.

his grip on your thighs is strong but it needs to be in order for you to stay any bit still; you squirm against him, his nails leaving crescent indentations in your skin as he keeps you steady.

at the first broken cry of his name, he stops immediately.

you let out a groan of protest, lifting your head from the pillow to further voice your grievances, only to be met with a petulant-sounding;

"you said to be quiet."

frustrated at your own words being used against you, you let your head fall back, mulling over how to reply.

utahime's music is still playing. they mightn't hear you, you're not being that loud --

but choso still hasn't picked up where he left off.

you know what he's capable of doing with that tongue, those fingers, so you throw in the towel fairly quickly.

"fine."

"use the back of your hand if you need to," he whispers before pausing, leaning over to pick up something, "or use this."

he tosses your own underwear towards you.

you grab it and throw it aside, rolling your eyes playfully.

"it hasn't come to that yet."

"still," he retorts, lowering himself down again, "it could come in handy."

"we'll - we'll see," you choke out, feeling his tongue part you again, wondering if you will actually end up need ingthat makeshift gag,

he licks and suckles, providing just the right amount of pressure as you start to grind against the wet heat of his mouth.

he knows what you need from him.

"one or two?"

you don't need to ask him to clarify. "two."

"already?"

your hand flies up to cover your mouth, pleasured mewls dying in your throat.

once it passes, you let your hands drop back to your side.

well, you could ...

you could just ...

so you do; you fist your hands in his hair, soft and silky under your touch, and answer.

"already."

you feel one of his hands release from your thighs as he starts to stroke himself, low reverberations of his groans enhancing the sensation of his tongue against you.

then the other hand drifts down your waist, hips, until two fingers prod at your entrance, your wetness coating his fingertips before he can even get inside you.

his hand moves slowly while his mouth nips and suckles, your legs spreading even further to allow him room.

inch by inch he slips inside, meeting no resistance since you're ore than wet enough for two -- maybe even three --

he curls his fingers and you cry out his name.

he doesn't stop this time, though, too enraptured by the sight of his fingers disappearing through your swollen folds to deny himself anything.

the music next door is drowning out any sound you're making, you know it is. you don't want to stop for a moment.

you can't stop.

he pumps his fingers in and out as your hips roll against him, chasing the friction that you need as much as air right now.

you really think you might die without out.

you feel yourself pulse around him; he feels it as well, the way you contract when he hits that spot against your walls, and suctions his lips around your clit in the way he knows will have you coming for him more than once.

with his lips angled like this, you can feel the piercing as it shifts against you; the cold metal should probably feel jarring but it only adds to the sensitivity, a unique sensation that you now can only associate with him.

it's funny -- you haven't been seeing each other for long, only hooking up when you have the chance to go undetected -- but he already knows your tells, the signs that you're close, so close --

you barely hear it, the sound muffled and quiet by intention, but the feeling of him groaning your name as he licks into you is too much, too much, too intense a feeling for you to bear ....

your orgasm hits you like a crashing wave, washing over every nerve in your body as you spasm around his fingers, your limbs turning to jelly as you lose your grip on his hair, hands fumbling with the bedsheets to try to establish yourself.

it is neverending, an all-consuming sensation that lasts until he pulls his fingers out unceremoniously, aftershocks clenching around nothing.

your teary eyes open as you see what prompted his sudden movement

choso's brows are pinched together desperately, almost panicked, as he fists his cock, hips rocking rhythmically.

"you're gonna make me come ... fuck, fuck --"

with a cut-off moan he grips the base of his cock, coming over your stomach, coming ropes that reach your breasts, his head thrown back as his jaw clenches shut.

the sight is enough to prolong your own orgasm, faint ripples running through you even as choso's pleasure starts to ebb away.

"oh fuck," he groans once his cock stills, his chest rising and falling, his sweat-slick skin glistening as he collects himself. "fuck ... I'm sorry."

"don't be sorry," you grin up at him, having come to a sudden realisation. "from the sound of it ... utahime and her date just closed to front door, so ... looks like we have the place to ourselves."

"we do?" he half-pants, half-laughs. "how ... how long has it been since --"

"too long," you cut him off. "so we need to make up for lost time."

it's his turn to grin again, eyes scanning the mess he's made of your chest with a sense of pride.

"happily."

#choso x reader #choso x you #jjk x reader #choso #may tries to write

379 notes · View notes

missrosegold · 4 months

Text

I've got a blood trail red in the blue

Synopsis: Vampire!AU You moved to the quiet, costal town to escape from your ex, only to find yourself entangled with a man with fiery blue eyes, and a grin that’s slightly too sharp.

He may or may not be an immortal gang leader to a bunch of other blood-sucking degenerates, but you’ll worry about that later.

Word count: 20k

Pairing: Dabi x Reader (fem!reader)

Warnings: Mentions of murder, Blood and gore, Smut, Mentioned past toxic relationships, Smoking, Smut and additional warnings listed below so Minors or Ageless blogs please DNI. This is rated 18+

Playlist: Take Me To The Sun - D4VD + The Summoning (the ending. if you know, you know) - Sleep Token

For @kimkaelyn Thank you for all of the encouragement you’ve shown me when I needed it most – this one’s for you. Also, thank you for making this beautiful banner for me!! It looks so good!!

Title is from The Summoning by Sleep Token

Inspired by The Lost boys

Happy Birthday Dabi - I'm so pleased I was able to finish this for his birthday. He deserves all good things.

**You can read it on A03 here if the formatting on Tumblr is throwing you off! I cross-post all my works to my A03 account!

Tagging: @vambirezz @dabisqueen @little-red-insomniac @sunaraii @touyasprettydoll @touyas-back-lover @cloudsz04 @faetheral @impulsivethoughtsat2am @whitemochabunnie

You sigh loudly as you move the last box of your things into your new bedroom.

Dusting off your hands, you stand up and look around the small room, giving it an approving once over, before heading out into the living room to continue putting the rest of your things away in your new apartment.

Opting to take a quick break, you crack open the sliding glass doors leading out onto your small patio and step outside into the evening air. Closing your eyes, you breathe in the balmy, salt laced air, as a cool breeze combs through your hair, sending pleasant chills down your spine. You stay like that for a moment, before the sound of seagulls cawing overhead draws your attention to the surrounding view.

The sight of the small costal town spread out before your balcony greets you, as you look outward. You’d just moved to the town of Ashikita a few days ago, leaving your life in the busy city of Tokyo behind you. You scowl even thinking about the place.

You’d loved your life in Tokyo. It was the person you shared your life with there you’d hated.

You purse your lips as your thoughts trail back to your ex-boyfriend, despite your best efforts. He was the sole reason you’d moved all the way out to this small town in the first place. Your relationship had been on a downwards spiral for a while, and had gradually become unhealthier the longer you’d stayed with him. He had become progressively more controlling and manipulative whenever you’d tried to leave your shared apartment for anything else aside for work, and his behavior had only become worse by the day.

Eventually, things came to a boiling point when he decided to try and lock you in the bathroom when you’d told him that you were going out to see a friend, and that had been your breaking point. You had packed your things up when he’d left to go to work, and that had been that. You had taken up residence at your parent’s place for a few months while you’d searched for a new apartment and a new job, far away from your ex’s grasp, all the while dodging his incessant calling, before blocking him all together.

You had settled in Ashikita, a small costal town in Kyushu, known for its attractive beaches and coastlines. It was also quiet during the off season, deeming it the perfect place for someone who was trying to escape from the city.

Perfect for someone who didn’t wish to be found.

You allow your gaze to sweep through the sights spread out below your balcony. Your apartment was located near the coastline, and had a nice view of the nearby beach and wooden boardwalk that wrapped around it, much to your inner delight. The twinkling of lights from the few carnival rides you can see on the old wooden platform catches your attention, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you recall old childhood memories of when your parents used to take you to the small country fair that used to come by your hometown in the summer.

You sigh as the multicolored lights gradually become brighter as the sun slowly sinks behind the watery horizon in the distance. Glancing back into your dark apartment, you decided to go down to check out the boardwalk after night falls – not wanting to spend more time in your lonely apartment then necessary.

You slowly slink back inside, and force yourself to continue to unpacking as the outside becomes darker. Once your apartment looks somewhat like your own space, you quickly change into something a little warmer to explore the boardwalk, before making your way out of your apartment.

The boardwalk, as you discover, is only a ten-minute walk away from your building, and you use the time to lightly explore the surrounding area as you make your way towards the beach. The distant crashing of the ocean waves against the shore makes your heart pound excitedly in your chest, and the sounds of the boardwalk rides echoes through the air around you, only adding to your growing excitement.

You make your way onto the old wooden boardwalk and look around at the rides and other various vendors set up on both sides of the platform. You slowly make your way around the brightly lit area with the crowds of other people taking in the sights and sounds like you, before a gentle musical chime accompanied by soft twinkling lights in the coroner of your eye catches your attention.

Turning to your left, you gasp in delight as you find yourself looking at a vintage merry go round. It’s old, older than you by probably several decades, but it’s no less charming than it would’ve been when it was brand new. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been on one, and before you can think about what you’re doing, you’re in the short line to buy a ticket.

The teen running the ride looks entirely uninterested as he takes your money before passing you a ticket and waving you on. You slowly make your way around the merry go round, taking in all of the old wooden animals – most of their paint old and dull – before settling on a sleek black horse wearing a blue saddle and bridle.

Not long after choosing your mount, the voice of the teen operating the ride crackles to life over the loud speaker and announces the ride was starting, before the squealing of gears and the hum of hidden electronics signals the start of the ride. You grip the pole as your horse slowly moves up and down, giggling in spite of yourself.

The world spins around you slowly and you lose yourself in the tinny sounds of music blaring out of the ancient speakers scattered around the ride. As you glance out at the boardwalk outside of the merry go round, something catches your attention.

No, not something, someone.

You catch a fleeting glimpse of a tall man dressed in various shades of dark blue and black, standing just outside of the fence blocking off the ride. You have to wait for the ride to do another full circle before you see him again, this time in clearer detail.

He’s standing still as a statue, allowing you to get a better look at him as you come around once again. He’s imposing looking, with his dark attire, save for a white shirt draped loosely around his gangly frame. He’s wearing a long dark blue duster and stitched pants, tucked into black combat boots – a strange choice of clothing considering the warm weather. He’s tall and lean, but you can tell he’s well-built underneath the loose clothes he wears; but his unique choice of clothing isn’t what draws your attention to him.

He is without a doubt, one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen.

His spiky black hair is as dark as night, and his skin is pale and flawless, drawing attention to his high cheekbones but you notice a slight roundness to his cheeks, giving a gentle softness to his otherwise edgy features.

As you pass him once more, you lock eyes with the intriguing stranger and your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are as blue as the surrounding ocean. You don’t think you’ve ever seen any one with eyes that particular shade of blue before.

As you slowly pass him again, he smirks at you, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest involuntarily.

The crackling sounds from the old loudspeakers snap you out of your trance as the teen from before announces the ride was over, and to leave at the nearest exit point. You slide off your horse and make your way to the exit, speed walking back to where you first saw the dark-haired man, only to find he’d seemingly vanished.

You look around the area, confused as to how he could’ve disappeared so fast, only to hear deep laughter echoing a little further down the boardwalk. You turn in the direction of the laughter, only to see the dark-haired man standing in the middle of a group of four other men.

They’re an interesting looking group if you’ve ever seen one: a silvery, white-haired man with vibrant red eyes is standing next to your handsome stranger, snickering at something he said, drawing your attention to the odd amount of scarring under his eyes and around his mouth. Beside him, a man with what you can only assume is box-dyed pink hair, dressed in a black hoodie is leaning slightly on him, listening intently to what he’s saying. On the other side of the ravenette; a taller, slightly older looking blonde-haired man with a long scar running down his forehead, is smoking a cigarette, and beside him, a well-dressed brunette who looked to be about the same age as his scarred companion, is fixing his tie, smiling and nodding with whatever was being discussed.

You smile to yourself as you take in the group. As much as you would’ve liked to talk to the dark-haired man, you didn’t want to interrupt his time with his friends. You turn around, ready to make your leave, only to feel a sudden weight draped around your shoulders. Startled, you whirl around only to find yourself staring up into the deep blue eyes of handsome stranger from before.

Now that he’s up close and personal, you find yourself unable to look away from the unique blue of his eyes. There’s something about them that has you completely entranced, and suddenly, the rest of your surroundings seem to fade away until it’s just you and him. You’re stuck in his orbit and he’s pulling you in simply by looking at you, pinning you in place where you stand. The stranger suddenly blinks, and just like that; he releases you from whatever hold he had you in, abruptly snapping you back to reality.

You don’t even have time to wonder how the hell he was able to catch up to you so fast, before you feel your throat dry up and close up involuntarily as he shoots you a dark smirk.

“’Sup sweetheart?”

His deep voice startles you. It’s smooth, with a slight rasp to it, sounding like he’d smoked recently. He’s warm as well – it’s almost shocking how hot he is, as you feel the heat from his body leaching into your side through the barrier your clothes provide.

You struggle to come up with a response to his greeting, and you can tell by the way his grin grows slightly, he enjoys the effect he has on you. He squeezes your shoulders again, almost teasingly.

“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re getting all shy on me now? I saw you checking me out on the merry go round. Thought you wanted to say hello.”

“You saw that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, fighting to keep the flush you feel creeping up your neck under control, as the man throws his head back and laughs, allowing you to catch sight of clean white teeth that seemed slightly sharper than the average person’s.

“Yeah, I saw. Gotta say, I’m flattered. Haven’t seen a cute thing like you around here for a while. You new here?”

“I… Yeah.” You finally manage to sputter out, “I just moved here.” causing him to grin again.

“Yeah? Where are you from?”

“Tokyo. I got a new job down here. It’s a lot different than the city. Nice though.”

The dark-haired man nodded. “I bet. Why did you move here? This isn’t exactly a major city. I’m surprised you’d want to come here of all places.”

You freeze. Memories of your ex come flooding back, and you chew on your lip as you struggle to figure out what to tell the handsome man. You didn’t want to divulge your shitty dating history to a total stranger, when you yourself were trying to move on. Thankfully, the longer you remain silent, the more the grin seemed to slide off his lips, seemingly understanding what you were thinking, without you having to say a word.

“Someone there made you want to leave?”

You nod soundlessly, causing the man to kiss the back of his teeth.

“Well, that’s a shame. Dunno who the jackass is who made you feel the need to come to a remote shithole like this, but fuck ‘em.”

His brunt comment makes you snort in spite of yourself. You turn in his hold so you’re facing him more directly, offering him a half smile. “I don’t even know your name. What is it?”

The man grins salaciously at you as he stoops down to your level. “Dabi. And you, gorgeous?”

You know there’s not a chance in hell that’s his real name, but you decide not to press him on it. Maybe you’ll ask him about it later, if you ever run into him again.

You tell him your name, and he straightens back up, rolling your name off his tongue, causing you to flush gently under the intensity of his piercing blue gaze, He jerks his thumb back at the group of young men behind him. “The guys and I were just hanging around the boardwalk. Wanna walk with me pretty girl?”

You look over his shoulder to see the other four men staring you down intently. There something about the way they’re looking at you that makes you uneasy, but you can’t place what about it makes you uncomfortable. Instead, you smile up at him and shake your head.

“That’s okay, I don’t want to interrupt your time with your friends. I just wanted to explore a little bit. I’m still unpacking my apartment, so I should probably get back to doing that.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding.” Dabi sends you another grin, teeth glinting like knives in the carnival lights. “I’m sure you’d be better company then those jokers always.”

“I’m good.” You tell him, gently removing his arm from around your shoulders, watching as his smirk falls slightly at your gesture. “Maybe next time, if you’re around.”

“My boys and I live close to the area. I’m sure we’ll meet up at some point.” Dabi takes a step back from you, shoving his hands into his pockets, and sends you another smoldering grin that makes your heart speed up to dangerous levels.

“See you later sweetheart.”

“Bye.” You tell him with a timid wave, watching as he sends you a knowing wink, before turning on his heel and making his way back to his friends, who are already at his throat.

“What the hell was that, Dabi? Thought you were going to bring her back for sure.”

“Dude, I can’t believe you didn’t take her out. You always manage to pull—”

“Shut the hell up you psychos.”

Your roll your eyes as at their conversation as you shift your purse on your shoulder and walk in the opposite direction, away from the interesting group and back towards your apartment. The sound of the roaring ocean overtakes the sounds of the boardwalk as you make the trek back to your apartment alone.

You wake up the next morning to the sound of your phone alarm going off.

You get up with a groan, and slowly begin your morning routine. You shuffle around your apartment as you get ready to start your new office job. You pack your lunch with what meager items you have in your fridge, before heading downstairs to where your car is parked. Hopping in, you quickly plug the coordinates into your car’s nav system, and make the twenty-minute drive to your new office.

It’s small building, and your job is an entrée level position, but it pays decently well and is still more than enough to cover your living expenses – it’s part of the reason you took the job in the first place, since you’ll have to pay the entirety of your rent by yourself now.

Still, you’d much rather struggle by yourself then crawl back to your ex.

You day is uneventful, and you spend the majority of your day filling out new employee paperwork and getting to know the rest of your new colleagues. They’re nice and seemingly keep mostly to themselves, something you’re not used to after working in Tokyo for the last several years.

Still though, you can’t complain. Honestly, you think it might be good to keep your head down for a while as you get settled in. There’d be plenty of time to get to know the rest of your new coworkers later.

Your day passes quickly, and before you know it, you’re pulling into your parking space at your apartment building. Soon enough, you find yourself shutting the door to your apartment with a sigh as you kick your shoes off, before heading into your bedroom to change out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable.

As you make your way back out into your small living room, you’re hit with how bland your new apartment looks in comparison to your old one, and suddenly you don’t want to be in your tiny apartment. You glance out the living room window that’s pointed towards the beach and you know where you want to go.

Grabbing your keys, you find yourself making the short walk to the beach as the sun sinks lower in the sky, casting golden reflections on the water’s choppy service. You spend an hour on the beach, relaxing and breathing in the salty air, before getting up and making your way over to the boardwalk where several food vendors are setting up.

After paying for some cotton candy, you walk around the darkening boardwalk, nibbling mindlessly on your food as you explore several areas you hadn’t been able to look at the night before. As the numerous strings of fairy lights decorating the rides gradually get brighter as the sky grows darker, you decide you head back to your apartment before it get’s too late.

Before you can turn around to make your way back to your home, you feel a presence behind you and a sudden heat washes over you.

“Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon sweetheart.”

You whirl around at the familiar voice, only to see the dark-haired man from the night before standing behind you with a sharp grin. You note he’s wearing the same clothes from the night before, but he’s switched out his long duster for a shorter leather jacket with a ripped collar, adding to his intrigue.

“Oh hey! Dabi, right?” you ask him, prompting him to nod with a wicked smirk.

“Sounds nice, coming from you.”

You roll your eyes at his flirtatious comment, instead asking what you wanted to ask him last night. “That’s not your real name, is it?”

Dabi’s smirk only grows wider at your question, his bright blue eyes seemingly growing brighter. “No.”

“You ever going to tell me what it is?”

The dark-haired man clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Maybe later, if you stick around long enough.”

You shrug, not seeing any point in pushing it further. “Do you live around here?”

Dabi nods after a moment. “Yeah, I rent a place near here with a few guys. They’re tolerable.”

“Oh, your friends from last night?” you ask, thinking back to the group of men with him last night. You can’t help but grin as the man’s handsome face twists into a grimace at your comment.

“Wouldn’t go as far as to call them my friends, but we’ll go with that.” His dry response causes you to laugh.

“So, you’re more of a lone wolf, huh?”

Dabi snorts, the hint of a smile gracing his lips. “Absolutely. Up until those idiots wormed their way into my life years ago, I was fine with being on my own.”

You laugh at his comment before asking: “Have you lived here long?”

At your question, Dabi seems to pause. You watch as he chews on his bottom lip before carefully responding.

“I’ve been here a while, yeah.”

You nod, “Well, it seems nice here from what I’ve seen so far. It’s a lot different from Tokyo, but in a good way, I think.”

Dabi snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks away from you. “If you’re saying that, then you clearly don’t know what actually goes on around here.”

You frown at his cryptic reply, not sure how to feel about what he’s telling you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dabi only gestures for you to follow him, and you do without much resistance. He ends up taking you further down the boardwalk to a spot you hadn’t yet been to, and stops in front of a large bulletin board plastered with several layers of white filers.

He taps the board. “Welcome to the missing person’s capitol of Japan.” He tells you flatly, allowing you to get a closer look at the papers rustling in the breeze.

You feel your heart sink into your stomach as you take in the layers upon layers of printed paper faces and their basic information printed out under them. From what you can see, some of the missing person fliers are months old, and others are as recent as a week ago. The missing people seem to be of every age and ethnicity, but the number of people plastered on the bulletin board is shocking.

You turn to Dabi, flabbergasted. “What the hell is this?”

Dabi shrugs nonchalantly. “An open secret.”

“I checked out the area before I moved here. All the websites I looked at painted this place as quiet and safe. I never saw anything like this.” You protested, causing the dark-haired man to nod.

“That’s because the authorities do whatever they can to cover it up. This has been going on for a long time. Years, honestly. These are the most recent ones.”

“The most recent?!”

“Like I said, years, babe. Didn’t you ever wonder why the rent around here was so cheap?”

“I—well, I mean, yeah, but—” You run a hand through your hair nervously. “I came here to escape from the chaos – not get involved in a different kind.”

Dabi pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and puts one in his mouth, but doesn’t light it, instead opting to nudge your shoulder gently. “You’ll be fine during the day. No one’s going to steal you away sweetheart. It’s night time you have to be worried about. Just keep your head down and don’t go looking for trouble, you’ll be fine.”

You hum in response, but you must not look very convinced, because he sighs around his cigarette, taking it out of his mouth and flicking it into a nearby trashcan. “Tell you what; how about I walk you back to your building. Will that make you feel better?”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you—”

“You’re not.” Dabi interrupts you as he brushes past you gently, his abnormally warm fingers ghost the skin of your arm as he passes you. “Come on. I’ll take you back home. Can’t have someone snatching you away now, can we?”

He winks at you, laughing lightly as your face flushes against your will, yet you find yourself tailing after him, leading him back to your apartment. Normally you’d be very against allowing a near perfect stranger to know where you live, but the news of the missing people has shaken you more then you’d like to admit, and right now having some extra company doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

You walk slowly back to your apartment side by side with him, and in that time, you end up talking about anything and everything. Conversation seems to come naturally with him, and your guard slowly drops. The more you talk to him, the more he seems to loosen up in turn, though he keeps a polite distance when you try and find out more about him, instead, re-directing the conversation back to you.

“So, you never told me why you left Tokyo.” he drawls, heavily lidded eyes finding your own. “This isn’t exactly near there. I’m just trying to understand why you’d wanna leave your family behind to come here. You don’t strike me as the type who likes being alone for long periods of time.”

You stop short and mull over his question in your head. As much as you didn’t want to get into it, the raven-haired man was the closest thing you had to a friend here, and if you continued talking to him as you were, the question was bound to come up eventually. Instead, you exhale loudly through your nose before answering.

“Your original guess wasn’t far off.” You admit quietly, watching as his dark brows rise slightly at your subdued response.

You elaborate. “I left Tokyo to escape from my ex. The relationship had been bad for a while, and I should’ve left sooner then I did, but it was really hard. He was so possessive at the end, I felt like I was suffocating. It never got physical between us, but it probably would’ve if I stayed longer.”

You look up at your companion, only to see that his normally bright eyes are dark, and there’s a prominent tick in his jaw that hadn’t been there earlier. Dabi catches you staring at him, and sighs.

“Does he know where you are?” You shake your head.

“Not that I know of. I didn’t tell many people I was moving here aside from my parents. Most of my friends know I moved, but don’t know where to. I wanted to keep it quiet since he’s still trying to find ways to contact me. I don’t want him knowing where I am.”

Dabi hums in agreement as you approach your building. “So, you don’t have any friends out here, huh?”

You shake your head as you approach the main entrance. “I’m all by myself.”

You both stop a few feet from the door, and to your surprise (and relief), Dabi makes no move to invite himself in. You were worried he’d insist on walking you to your actual apartment, and as handsome as he was; you weren’t sure you wanted him knowing what apartment was yours… yet.

You’re just about to bid him goodnight before he suddenly speaks up, catching you off guard.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“No plans as far as I know. Just working during the day. I should be free past six. Why?” You sputter, not expecting him to ask.

Dabi shrugs, sending you a relaxed grin, and once again you note how his teeth are oddly sharp. “It’s Friday night. If you’re not busy and you want to make some new friends, the guys I room with are having a night in. If you want to join, you can. Our place isn’t far from here.”

You’re slightly shocked at his offer. He doesn’t seem like the type who enjoys more people hanging around him then necessary, but then again, you’ve been wrong about people before, and now that he’s offered, he’s right: you don’t have any friends out here, and you are becoming lonely. Maybe meeting some new people wouldn’t be a terrible thing.

Before you can think about it any longer, you hear yourself agreeing. “Sure, that sounds great.”

Dabi smirks at you, broadcasting his pearly canines. “Excellent. I’ll let them know you’re coming. I’ll come pick you up back here when the sun drops. My place is about twenty minutes by car.”

You nod with a small smile. “That sounds good. Thanks again for walking me back Dabi.”

He only waves you off. “It’s nothing, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, bye.” You tell him as you open the door to your building, watching as he shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets and heads back in the direction of the boardwalk without another word. You watch him leave until he’s all but swallowed up by the surrounding darkness, before smiling to yourself and heading inside.

Dabi sinks his fangs into the man’s neck faster than he can scream for help. He holds him locked in a death embrace until the man’s frantic thrashing grows weaker, before completely stilling as his body grows limp in his hold.

It’s only when the man’s colour pallet has gone a deathly white does Dabi finally release his grip on the man, letting him collapse onto the sandy ground underneath the boardwalk. He wipes his bloodied mouth on the back of his sleeve with a grimace as he stares down at his victim.

Sour. Too sour for his liking. Clearly the man wasn’t in the best health before he got his hands on him, but beggers couldn’t be choosers, and he was hungry.

That’s the biggest downside to being what he is: the insatiable thirst for blood couldn’t be ignored for long. He would know. He’s tried to fight against his unsavory appetite in the past, but the end results are always the same, and he not about to starve just so a few lost souls could be spared. He’s no saint – in fact, he’s damn near the opposite of one.

Vampire.

The title is branded into him, even if only he can see it. He has to feed regularly in order to keep his more monstrous tendencies at bay, but he can go a few days without a meal. Any longer than that, and the real him becomes visible to all. The last thing he needs is anyone finding out what he really is.

Dabi feels his fangs slowly retract into his gums as he cooly observes his latest kill. It wasn’t anything personal, he didn’t even know the guy’s name. Just like the rest of his victims, he prefers not to know anything about them – it makes draining their blood harder later on. The body laying before him was just some random man he’d seen wandering the boardwalk by himself half drunk, making him an ideal target. It was all too easy to lure the man to a more secluded spot before jumping him, but he’s had years of practice perfecting his craft. He’s done it so many times he doesn’t feel much of anything anymore.

The missing person board can confirm that much.

Once he’s certain most of the evidence has been cleaned from his face, he snaps his fingers, and the corpse before him suddenly bursts into bright blue flames – consuming the unnamed man until there’s nothing left of him except for a pile of blackened ash, and the horrid smell of burnt meat.

Dabi sighs as he turns away from the remains and slowly trudges out from the wooden underbelly of the boardwalk above him, kicking at sand carelessly as his thoughts drift back to you.

You smell so good. Your blood practically sings to him. Walking you back to your apartment had been a challenge to him, as he had to fight every urge screaming at him to whisk you away and drain you dry, just like he’s planned to when he’d first laid eyes on you. But the more he talked to you, and the more you’d let him in on certain parts of your life, the less he wanted to do so.

You were… different. You stuck out from the other humans he’s forced to be around. You were sweet, if a bit withdrawn, but it added to your appeal. Your personality was refreshing, and it made him want to keep you around, and figure out just who you really are.

It helped that he found you to be rather… pretty, to say the least.

He wouldn’t bother trying to deny you were a good-looking girl. He’d seen the way you’d looked at him on the merry go round, and if that meant anything, then you found him to be just as attractive.

Well… at least you found his current face to be handsome. He’s not sure how you’d react to his real face, but he’d cross that bridge if and when he came to it.

He feels the corners of his lips upturn at the thought. Now the real test would be if you could handle him and his boys.

The next day is uneventful. You continue your training at the office, and slowly get to know some your co-workers past a first name basis. You finish up your work load at the end of the day and bid your co-workers good-bye, before making your way back home.

The sun is just starting to dip down in the sky by the time you get back into your apartment. You toss your keys onto your tiny kitchen table, taking a seat and scrolling through your phone mindlessly.

You respond to a few texts from your friends who know where you moved to, letting them know that you’re doing okay, and how you were going to meet with some of the locals later, before one of your friends texts out something that sends a chill down your spine.

Your ex had reached out to them asking them where you went.

Your friend assures you they didn’t tell him anything before you can ask, but you still feel a heavy weight building in your stomach. You end up putting your phone down after promising you’ll text them later, before getting up and moving into the living room, breathing heavily as you fight to control your nerves.

The sun has just sunk behind the horizon as you peer out your window, only to balk as you see a sleek black car parked beside yours in the parking lot, and a familiar man lounging on the hood, smoking a cigarette.

You swear to yourself as you grab your room key and bolt out of your apartment and down the staircase to the main floor. You make your way out into the parking lot, waving at the dark-haired man, who straightens up upon seeing you.

“Hey.” Dabi rasps, tossing down his cigarette and stomping it out.

“Hi.” You tell him with a slight smile. “I didn’t expect you to come by so soon.”

“I told you when the sun sinks.” The blue-eyed man retorts, but there’s no venom behind it. “You ready?”

“Let me get changed first.” You tell him, gesturing down to your work clothes. “You can come in and wait in my apartment if you want. I’d feel bad if I left you out here.”

Dabi looks hesitant at first, but he nods and follows you stiffly towards the entrance of your building. You wave him through, and he passes you with a slightly uncomfortable look on his face, before following you up the stairs to your front door. You open it and step in, expecting him to follow you, but he doesn’t. You shoot him a questioning look, and he cocks an eyebrow at you, giving you a tiny smirk.

“Gonna invite me in doll?”

“Oh, sorry, you can come in.” You laugh, and that seems to be the invitation he was waiting for, since he glides through your doorframe easily, shutting it behind him.

You can’t help by notice how glaringly out of place he seems in your minimalist apartment. He sticks out against the light colours like a sore thumb, and you have to bite back a giggle as you watch him take a seat on your small living room couch.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” you ask him as you make your way towards your room. Dabi only shakes his head as he leans back into your sofa.

“I’m good doll, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll be out in just a second.” You tell him as you dip into your room, shutting your door behind you. You quickly throw on some casual but nice clothes and run a brush through your hair in an attempt to rid yourself of the tangles. You don’t know what kind of night you were in for with a bunch of men who looked to be in various stages of their twenties and early thirties, but you still wanted to look presentable. The last thing you wanted was to be accused that you were trying too hard, or turning Dabi’s invitation into something it wasn’t.

Once your satisfied with how you look, you make your way into your living room where Dabi is waiting for you. You don’t miss how he eyes you up and down as he stands up and makes his way over to you. “Ready?”

“All set.” You confirm, watching as his fiery blue eyes seem to light up as he grins at you. Twirling his car keys on his finger.

“I’ll drive.”

You follow him downstairs to his car, and surprisingly, he holds the door open for you. You slide into his passenger seat with a stammered thank you, allowing him to close the door behind you and get into the driver’s side, starting the car with a low roar. He puts the car in gear and pulls out of the apartment complex, before turning onto the road that leads back towards the beach, chatting you up all the while.

Your nerves about meeting the rest of his roommates slowly fade away as he assures you that his roommates where alright (even though he claimed they were still annoying), and while some of them were quieter than others, they meant well.

He steers the car past the boardwalk, causing you to raise an eyebrow at him. Dabi catches your look and chuckles. “I rent a house on the other side of town with a few guys. It’s more secluded.”

You nod as you watch the multi-coloured lights from the rides pass you by as Dabi continues on down the road. You learn very quickly he wasn’t kidding about his house being secluded, as he pulls off the main road and onto a dirt path leading into the trees that line the left side of the road. You can’t help but inwardly sweat at the change of scenery, but the passive look on Dabi’s face doesn’t change as he focuses on the road.

“You plan on murdering me or something?” You half joke, only for him to snicker.

“Naw doll, not tonight. You’re too pretty for that.”

He must see how flushed your face is reflected in the mirror, because he laughs openly at you and reaches over to squeeze your knee with a hot hand

“Kidding. Relax, we’re here. Probably should’ve told you I live in the middle of nowhere.” He chuckles as he pulls into an old driveway and puts the car in park. “Welcome to my house.”

You find yourself looking at a large traditional-styled home that looks like nothing’s been done to it since the turn of the past century. There’s moss and dead leaves littering the roof and front yard, and some of the white paint on the front of the house is cracked and pealing. If you had stumbled across the house on your own, you would’ve thought it was abandoned – if not for the two other cars parked on the other side of the driveway, signaling the house was inhabited.

Dabi must see your apprehensive look as he gets out to open your door again despite your protests. “I know, it looks like a bit of a dump.” He admits as he jerks a thumb towards the house. “That’s what happens when you have five guys who all work nights living under one roof. Rents cheap though. It’s why we’ve been here for so long.”

“You all work nights?” you ask as Dabi leads you towards the front door. He hums in agreement as he opens the door, exposing a dark inside interior.

The more you think about it, the more it makes since. You’ve never encountered him during the day, and every time you’ve run into him it was always near the boardwalk.

“What is it that you do?” you ask him as he flicks on a light near the door, illuminating an old mudroom and part of a dark hall. He shuts the door behind you as he kicks off his shoes, prompting you to do the same.

“I work near the docks.” He tells you vaguely as he gestures for you to follow him further into the house. “I do some operational work. Shipping and receiving. All that boring shit. It’s not very exciting.”

“What do the rest of your roommates do?” you ask him as he takes you towards a closed off room near the back of the house. You can hear different voices echoing behind the door as well as what sounds like a TV playing in the background. Dabi only shakes his head at you as he opens the door, exposing the room inside.

“You can ask them yourself.”

You step inside and are greeted to the sight of the four men from the boardwalk lounging around a large flatscreen TV. The man with the pink dye job and silver haired man with the odd scarring on his face are huddled around the screen playing a fighting game, while the two older looking gentlemen are sitting on the worn leather couch behind them, providing commentary. The blonde one with the scar running down the front of his face is smoking another cigarette, while the brunette dressed in well-tailored clothes is sitting on the other side of the couch, away from the smoke.

The pink haired man lets out huff of annoyance as his on-screen character dies. He turns around, only to freeze as he locks eyes with you.

“Oh shit.” He breathes, “She came.”

His comment causes the other men to turn around and stare at you, their facial relations ranging from a mixture of surprise to slight distrust. You don’t know why some of them are looking at you with slightly guarded expressions, but you don’t get to dwell on it for long, as Dabi comes in behind you and lightly drapes an arm across your shoulders.

“These are the guys.” He announces, nodding at each of them in turn. “The two idiots on the floor are Tomera and Iguchi. That’s Jin,” he nods to the blonde who breaks out into a grin, waving at you. “—and last but not least is Atsuhiro.” The aforementioned man stands up to greet you, giving you a polite handshake.

“I apologize for the mess.” He tells you, gesturing around the crowed room. “We seldom get guests. We weren’t sure if you were actually going to come.”

“That’s alright. I didn’t notice.” You tell him as Dabi steers you towards an empty couch to the side of the one Jin and Atsuhiro are sitting on. You notice he keeps his hand on your frame as you sit down with him, and he doesn’t remove it afterwards, almost as if he’s guarding you. It’s not uncomfortable, but you notice the same uneasy feeling you had when you first met him and his motley crew is back. There’s something about them that unnerves you, but for the life of you, you can’t place what it is.

They seem alright at first glance though. Tomura and Iguchi resume their game, but make a point to talk to you while they play, as Jin and Atsuhrio engage you in conversation, all the while Dabi observes you, not really adding anything to the conversations, and seems content just listening to you talk to his roommates.

You find out that Tomura and Iguchi are streamers – their online tags being Shigaraki and Spinner respectively – while Atsuhrio works as a street performer using the stage name Mr. Compress. Meanwhile Jin (who insists you call him Twice, for reasons he doesn’t get into), does deliveries around town during the evening, on top of working with Dabi at the docks when it’s slow, but has the night off tonight.

As you slowly start to relax, the conversations gradually become easier until you’re questioning why you felt so uneasy in the first place; that is, until Tomera makes an off-handed comment to you.

“M’surprised he brought you back here.” He jerks a thumb back at Dabi, not looking up from his game. “Most girls don’t last that long with him—”

“Tenko,” Dabi seethes out through gritted teeth beside you. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”

“Don’t call me by that name.” The red eyed man snaps suddenly, pausing the game to glare at the man beside you. “That name is dead, and you know I’m right.”

“Don’t be an ass.” Dabi snarls back as he pulls you towards him. “I told you to behave tonight while she’s over.”

“Fuck you, you’re not my father.”

“No, but I can torch your ass—”

“Alright, maybe we shouldn’t have this fight in front of her.” Iguchi suddenly speaks up, cutting them both off. “I don’t know about you guys, but I like her, and I want her to come back.”

“Thank you, Iguchi, I like you too.” You tell him sweetly, causing the tips of his ears to pinken, as he mumbles something intelligible under his breath and turns back towards the TV. Tomura rolls his eyes and resumes the game. Jin only chuckles as he turns towards you.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Jin tells you with a genuine smile. “Himiko’s going to love you.”

You shoot Dabi a questioning look, but he only rolls his eyes. “You’ll meet her shortly.”

“Her? But I thought only you guys lived here—”

Before you can get another word out, the distant slam of a door, accompanied by the sound of footsteps rushing towards the room interrupts you. As the light footsteps grow closer, you feel Dabi tense up beside you, as he leans over to whisper something to Atsuhiro that sounds suspiciously along the lines of, “I swear, if she’s just getting back in from one of her nightly rampages, we’re going to have a problem-“ Before a blonde girl who looked to be no older then eighteen, with two hair buns on either side of her head, bursts into the room with an almost manic grin on her face.

“Guys, you would not believe what I smelled coming back up here.” She cackles. “I think there’s a—” she cuts herself off as her abnormally golden eyes find yours. Before you can blink, she’s tossed herself over the couch that Jin and Atsuhrio are sitting on and plops herself down right in front of you.

“Hi! You’re really pretty! I’m Himiko Toga! Who are you?” she questions you with a smile that’s almost too wide for her face. You introduce yourself with a breathless laugh at her animated introduction, only to hear what sounds like a rumble coming from Dabi.

You turn to him only to see his insanely blue eyes are locked on the girl sitting in front of you and realize that he is, in fact growling at her.

“Back off Toga.” He warns her, but she ignores him.

“God I’m so happy another girl is here – I’m stuck here with these smelly boys every day and it get so boring! Do you know that you smell really, really good by the way—”

“Okay, enough.” Dabi hisses through gritted teeth. “Jesus, you don’t need to come onto her that fucking strong.”

Himiko gapes at him in mock shock. “Oh, come on. I could smell her all the way from outside the front door. You know she smells good. We all know!” She points around the room, but for some reason none of the other men meet her eye. In fact, they seem to be trying incredibly hard not to acknowledge what she’s saying.

Odd. You don’t remember putting on any perfume before you left.

“Thanks… I guess.” You tell her, unsure of what to say in response. Before the younger girl can respond, Dabi swiftly interrupts her.

“It’s not a bad thing. This psycho just doesn’t know how to give a compliment like a normal fucking person.” He shoots her a pointed look, but he’s not snarling at her anymore. Himiko seems to get the point, and sticks her tongue out at him, settling into the space between Jin and Atsuhrio, chatting excitedly with the older blonde, while occasionally sneaking glances at you.

The earlier tension fades away and you spend the next couple of hours with the odd group, chatting with each of them. Some of them have more to say then others such as Jin and Himiko, while Tomura and Iguchi are more on the quiet side, but still pleasant to talk to none the less. Dabi remains quiet for the most part next to you, never saying much, but you can tell he’s pleased with how you interact with his roommates.

Still, even as you grow more comfortable around them, there’s still a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that something is off about them. You have no proof to back up your unease though, so you try your best to ignore it, and focus on having a good time. After all, the seemingly mismatched group was the closest thing you had to actual friends here, and made you realize how badly you missed your group of friends back home.

You quickly end up losing track of time, and it’s only when Dabi checks his phone besides you, and muffles a curse under his breath, do you realize how late it is.

“Shit, it’s already five, I gotta take you home, sun will be up soon.” He mutters as he stands up, offering a hand to you, which you accept.

“Gotta keep up your sleep schedule?” you ask, hearing Tomura snort in the background at your comment. Dabi only nods as he heads towards the door.

“Something like that.”

You wave at the rest of the group. “It was really nice meeting you all.” You tell them sincerely. “Hopefully we can do this again sometime.”

“Come back anytime!” Himiko chirps, waving at you enthusiastically. “You better bring her back!” she crows at Dabi’s retreating from, and he waves at her without turning back around.

He leads you towards the front of the house where your shoes are, before walking out into the dewy morning air towards his car. Once again, he holds your door open for you, ignoring your protests, before getting in himself and starting the car, pulling out of the old driveway, and heading back down the dirt path towards the main road.

The sun is just starting to peak out from the horizon, painting the coastline in soft pinks and purples as Dabi steers the car past the old boardwalk, before you finally ask the question that had been on your mind for the last couple of hours.

“So, what’s the deal with Himiko?”

The dark-haired man only grunts. “You mean why is she so unhinged? Beats the hell outta me princess. “

“No, not that.” You wave him off, smacking his shoulder playfully at the nickname as he sends you a shit-eating grin in response. “I mean… you didn’t tell me about her initially, and I’ve never seen her with you before. Does she live with you too?”

Dabi mulls over your question for a moment, keeping a careful eye on the horizon which is slowly growing brighter, as he turns onto your street. After a moment he nods.

“Yeah, she does.” He confirms. “I know how it looks: one high school girl living with five guys in their twenties and thirties, but trust me, it’s not like that.” He’s quiet for a moment before elaborating.

“Toga has a shitty past. She ran away from her folks years ago – bad homelife from what she told us – and she had nowhere to go for a long time. I found her wandering the boardwalk one day and she never left after that. She took to Twice immediately, and she’s basically like his little sister. He’d do just about anything for her.” He exhales through his noes as he begrudgingly admits; “Hell, we all would.”

“Damn, how much did it hurt to admit that?” you tease him, prompting him groan.

“Shut up.” He grumbles as he pulls into your building’s parking lot. He parks the car and turns to you. “So, did we scare you off?”

“Not yet.” you tell him with a smile as you unbuckle your seat beat and open your door, posed to leave. “You guys are definitely interesting, I’ll give you that, but honestly; this was really nice. Thank you for inviting me over. I hope we can do it again sometime soon.”

Dabi shrugs his shoulders, “Well they seem to like you, especially Toga and Twice, so you’re welcome to come over again if you want. It’ll have to be during the evening though, since we all work at night.”

“Noted.” You tell him as you slide out of the car, only for him to suddenly grab your arm. You turn to stare at him quizzically, only for him to nod at your purse.

“Gimme me your phone for a second.”

You unlock it and pass it to him wordlessly, only to see him open a new contact in your phone and type something into it before passing it back to you. “My number.” He tells you before you can ask. “It’s easier to get a hold of me this way, rather than running into me at night at random.”

“Good call.” You agree, “I’ll text you later?”

“I’ll be waiting.” He sends you a knowing smirk. “I’ll see you later sweetheart.”

“Yeah… later.” You tell him, closing the door behind you. He waits until you’ve made it inside your building’s lobby, before peeling out of the parking lot and taking off towards his house like hell on wheels. You find it a little strange, but you loose track of your thoughts when you glance down at your phone, only to see he’s labeled himself as Dabi with a little flame emoji and a winky face next to his name in your contacts.

You feel yourself blush involuntarily as you stuff your phone back in your purse and climb the stairs to your apartment.

You definitely had a crush on him, you couldn’t deny it. Yet there was something off about him you just couldn’t place. There was something he wasn’t telling you – you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

The next several weeks come and go, and for the most part, they’re uneventful.

Work is going well, and you finally manage to find the time to finish personalizing your apartment so it looks more like home. Your friends still message you occasionally, giving you updates about what’s going on back home, and your ex pops up in conversation with them once or twice on how he’s still asking about you, much to your dismay. Aside from that, everything in your life is shockingly normal.

It feels almost odd being able to say it out loud. This is the most at ease you’ve felt since breaking up with your ex. Being on your own, away from him and his obsessive tendencies, makes you question why you didn’t do it sooner.

It feels nice, being able to breathe for the first time in almost two years since calling it off with him. Your life is calmer, maybe a bit slower than you’re used to, but it’s peaceful and stable. You’re happy.

The only major thing that’s changed recently is how you’re spending a lot more time around Dabi now.

Ever since he gave you his number, you’ve been texting back and forth frequently. You’ve gotten to know him better in that time (even though he still refused to tell you his real name), and you can safely say; he has his quirks.

For starters; he only messages you at night. He’s radio silent during the day, and only texts you back once the sun has set, or whenever he gets up. You’d blame it on him working nights, but he’s always quick to respond to your texts late at night, and always seems to be free whenever you message him asking if he wanted to get together, making you wonder what kind of work schedule he runs on.

Another thing you find peculiar is how you don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat before. You’ve offered to make him dinner a few times or to go into town to get something, but he always waves you off politely, telling you he’s already eaten, or giving you some other reason why he doesn’t want to get food with you. It’s not a deal-breaker by any means, and he doesn’t strike you as the type to have issues with food, but you leave it be just in case.

He's also weird about coming into your apartment even though he’s been in it multiple times by now. You’d initially thought he was uncomfortable being in your space, but it seems to be more of a politeness thing than anything else. He’s definitely not as stiff about entering like he was when he first came to visit, but he still makes a show about you inviting him in, even though he claims he could waltz right into your unit if he wanted to, but he never does.

Finally, you’ve noticed he isn’t particularly well-liked by the locals. In fact; none of the people in his house seem to be, but it’s especially bad with him.

It’s glaringly obvious. He’s taken you into town a handful of times so you can walk around together, only for people to glare pointedly at him and start whispering as soon as you were both out of ear-shot. If it bothers him, he doesn’t let it show, but you know from how his jaw tenses up, he’s aware that people are talking behind his back.

You tried to ask him about it once, but he shrugged you off, saying something about how there was some bad blood between him and some of the older locals, but refused to dive into it, stating how it was old news, but some people didn’t like to forget the past. His tone had given you the impression he wasn’t going to tell you any more than that, so you’d left it alone, not wanting to get into it.

There were somethings people didn’t feel comfortable sharing. You could relate; your rocky relationship with your ex was one of those topics for you.

To his credit, Dabi doesn’t pry into it, but it’s come up a few times – it’s inevitable, you knew it would eventually – but he doesn’t force you to say more then what you want to tell him. You don’t think you’d have to say much anyways; he seems to be able to piece together what happened in your past relationship on his own, without you having to say much of anything.

“Guy’s a dick.” He’d told you bluntly one night as you were taking an evening stroll around the boardwalk. “Seriously, he sounds like a tool. You should be glad you got out of there when you did. I wouldn’t waste your time crying over someone like him.”

“Easy to say that now – it wasn’t so easy when I was living with him.” You’d told him calmly. “We had joint banking. It’s hard to get out when you have to pay rent and buy groceries. I saved up enough to move out and get my place here eventually, but it took time.”

He’d fallen quiet at that, shifting his piercing blue orbs from your figure to the wooden boards beneath his feet, before nodding and muttering mostly to himself; “Yeah. I get that.”

For some reason, your heart had swelled in your chest upon seeing him vulnerable for a moment – a far cry from his usual fiery and cocky self.

In that moment you knew you were screwed; you were down bad for a man whose real name you still didn’t know. Somewhere along the lines, he had wormed his way into your heart without you noticing, and made a place from himself there.

Yet, you couldn’t say you minded. He was different from anyone you’d ever met, but in a way you found refreshing.

Currently, you find yourself walking with him on the boardwalk once again, admiring the blinking strings of fairy lights. Dabi doesn’t hold your hand, but he walks stride for stride with you, your shoulders bumping occasionally at the close proximity. Suddenly, a loud wail interrupts the usual fair noises permeating the warm evening air around you.

You both turn in the direction of the cry, only to see two middle-aged women standing in front of the massive missing person’s board. One of the ladies is sobbing unconsolably, while the other one is trying to console her.

Ah yes, you’d been so wrapped up with moving into your place and hanging out with Dabi on top of work, you’d almost completely forgotten about the town’s dark underbelly.

You can see Dabi’s lips pull downwards slightly as he takes them in, and he reaches out to try and steer you away from the scene, muttering under his breath about not wanting to get involved, but you gently pull your arm away from his grasp as you take a hesitant step towards the ladies who are slowly moving away from the old wooden board. You manage to overhear the last bit of their conversation as they leave, and older woman’s cry’s pull at your heart.

“—I don’t understand, where could he have gone? I saw him that morning, but he never came back home!”

“��We’ll find him dear. Maybe he’s visiting your friends on the other side of town.”

“—He would’ve called! It’s been three days! Three days since I’ve heard any word from my husband!”

You creep closer to the old corkscrew board and feel your heart sink in your chest as you find yourself looking at a fresh photo of a middle-aged man, presumably the woman’s missing husband. Now that you can see the board in its entirety, you notice there’s several new fliers posted among the sea of other missing faces, presumably never found.

You hear the heavy tread of Dabi’s combat boots behind you. “There’s more.” You tell him sadly without turning around. You hear him exhale loudly through his nose.

“Told you there would be. I wasn’t lying. This place is the missing person’s capitol of Japan.”

“I don’t understand.” You turn to face him, only to see that he has a blank expression on his face, giving nothing away. “I’ve never seen anything suspicious when we’ve gone out at night, and you told me that’s when this stuff usually happens.”

“The difference is; you don’t go out looking for trouble.” Dabi tells you smoothly, his insanely blue irises meeting yours, locking you in place. “Trust me, these people probably went out of their way to stumble across something they weren’t supposed to see, and they paid the price for it. Bad things happen all the time sweetheart, whether you see them or not.”

“You seem pretty confident about that.” You murmur finally, holding his gaze. “Had some experience with trouble in the past?”

For once, Dabi doesn’t have anything to say to you. Finally, he sighs and rakes a hand through his inky spikes. “Maybe.”

You want to ask him what he means, but in that moment, you feel your phone vibrate from inside your purse. You fish it out, only to see a text appear on screen that has your blood turning to ice in your veins.

???

Found you.

There’s no name attached to the text, only a random number you don’t recognize, but you think you already know who it’s from.

It has to be him. There’s only one other person you can think of who would text you something so innocent but so sinister, and it has you feeling like you want to puke.

Your ex-boyfriend.

Your eyes dart around the packed boardwalk wildly, trying to see if you could spot the familiar face of your ex in the crowd, but thankfully, you don’t see him anywhere.

How in the hell did he find you? There were only a few friends aside from your parents who knew where you’d moved to, and you highly doubt any of them would tell him where you’d gone. It was possible he’d simply gotten a new number and found a way to text you just to scare you, and if that’s what he wanted, he had accomplished his goal.

Your panic must be written across your face clear as day, because the next thing you know, Dabi has a hand underneath your chin, lifting your face up to meet his concerned expression.

“—I asked if you were okay doll. I’ve been calling you, but you didn’t respond to me.” He tells you. He glances down at your phone, a frown pulling at his lips. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know.” You tell him truthfully, shoving your phone back into your bag. “A really sick joke, I hope.”

His eyes narrow, the fire burning in them shines brightly, even though they’re more lidded then usual as he narrows his eyes at you. “What’s going on sweetheart?”

“Nothing—I—” You croak. You can’t stop looking around, hoping, praying, you don’t see the one person you were trying to escape from staring back at you. “—I gotta go.”

A look of concern passes over Dabi’s face, and you feel a flash of guilt for lying to him, but you don’t want to get him involved. You don’t want to bring anyone else into your mess. It’s not fair.

“If this was about earlier, I can—”

“It’s not!” you cut him off, already backing away from him. “I’ll text you later. I just—I just gotta go. I’m sorry.”

You don’t give him time to respond, before you pivot on your heel and book it down the boardwalk, away from the blinding lights, and away from him.

You don’t look back, and you don’t stop running until you’re in your tiny apartment – slamming the door behind you and locking it – even though it feels suffocating. It feels like the walls are closing in on you, and you’re finding it hard to breathe as you collapse onto your bed and cry.

You don’t know what to do.

You awake to the sound of furious pounding on your door.

You don’t know when you passed out; probably sometime after you managed to calm down slightly, but you can feel the dried tear tracks covering your cheeks as you slowly sit up and shuffle hesitantly towards your front door. The pounding continues, and you can’t help but wonder what time it is, and if you were going to receive a noise complaint from one of your neighbors, before you hear a horribly familiar voice just outside your door:

“I know you’re in there. You better open up right now or I’ll get your whole building involved!”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins as you hear the unmistakable sound of your ex-boyfriend’s voice snarl threateningly from the other side. You feel like someone’s dumped a bucket of freezing water on you as you start to panic. Tears flood your eyes involuntarily as you try to process what’s happening, but nothing’s making sense.

You have no doubt he’d wake the rest of your apartment building to get at you – if he hadn’t already woken up your neighbors. You know what he’s like better than anyone. Your ex has always been a big guy, and once he has his mind set on something (or someone), he’ll stop at nothing until he’s gotten it.

You have no idea how he got in the building in the first place, or how he figured out what apartment was yours, but that doesn’t matter as you watch your doorknob start twisting violently. You bolt forward and grab it with both hands, trying to keep it from unlocking as you listen to your ex-boyfriend grunt outside the door, no doubt trying to pick the lock from the outside.

After a few moments of back and forth struggling with the door; you hear the tell-take click of the door unlocking. You don’t stick around to watch it swing open – you know you won’t be able to hold it closed against him for long if he tries to force it open – and you sprint to your bedroom, slamming the flimsy door shut and locking it behind you.

You can’t calm down; you hear him in your kitchen, treading around the tiny space, calling for you, before his heavy footsteps slowly make their way towards your bedroom door.

You have limited options; if your apartment was closer to the ground, you’d consider escaping out your bedroom window, but you’re several stories up and you don’t want to do something that may cause you to break your leg, putting you at even more of a disadvantage against your ex-boyfriend. You have no idea what he wants from you, but if he’s so desperate that he’s willing to stalk you and break into your apartment, it can’t be good.

The police will take too long to get to you, you already know this. In the past, they hadn’t been helpful in these kind of situations – you know from experience. You can’t call them… but there is someone you can call.

You dive for your purse and pull out your phone just as your ex starts pounding on your bedroom door. Your finger hovers over Dabi’s contact in your phone, as he starts yelling at you through the door. You don’t want to involve Dabi in your personal troubles, you really don’t… but right now, you don’t have a choice.

Even though you don’t want to call him… you know he’ll help you.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you’ve hit the call button, and scoot yourself into the farthest corner of your room from the door, as you listen to the phone ring. It only rings twice before he picks up.

“It’s three in the morning sweetheart, what’s going on? Are you okay—”

“Dabi please help me!” you interrupt him, whispering frantically as your ex starts to rattle your doorknob. “I’m in trouble. I don’t know what to do!”

“What’s wrong? Where are you?” Immediately, his voice deepens, and you can tell he’s on high alert. You can’t see him, but you can hear rustling on the other end, and the tell-tale jingling of keys in the background.

“I’m in my apartment—it’s my ex—I don’t know how, but he found me. He broke in, and now he’s outside my door!” You hate that you’ve starting crying again, but you’re terrified, and Dabi can tell.

“Is he in the room with you?” Dabi rasps on the other line. “I can hear shouting in the background, that him?”

“Yeah, that’s him, and no he’s not, but he’s trying to force his way in!”

Dabi hums and you hear a door slam in the distance, followed by the sound of what you assume is his car starting.

“I’ll be there in less then ten. Just stay on the line with me. Everything’s going to be okay doll, I promise. I don’t know what he wants, but he’s not going to hurt you, I promise—”

At that moment, your bedroom door flies inward, causing you to scream and drop your phone, ending the call, as your ex rushes towards you. A surge of pure adrenaline hits you, and you drive your foot into his stomach and kick him back, giving you enough time to push yourself to your feet and make a mad dash for your door, only for him to grab you around the middle, and throw you down onto your bed, climbing on top of you and pinning your hands before you can recover.

“Get off me you freak!” you screech as you thrash in his hold. You manage to knee him in the sternum, briefly knocking the wind of out him, but it only serves to make him angrier, as he presses his knees into your thighs, and grips your wrists so tightly you know you’ll have handshape bruises adorning your arms for days after.

“Hell no, I finally found you, you little bitch—there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go again.” Your ex seethes above you. “It took me weeks to track you down. Your friends were no help, so took me longer than expected to find you.”

“I didn’t want you to find me, that was the point of me moving here!” you wail as you desperately try to free your legs. “I never want to see you again! What part of that is so hard for you to understand?!”

“Bullshit. You and I aren’t done until I say we’re done.” Your ex snaps. He looks around your bedroom and scoffs.

“I see you’re trying so hard to build a new life without me. Ungrateful brat. You moved on fast.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Your ex-boyfriend dips down so your noses are almost touching. “I saw you on the boardwalk with that guy earlier. Who the hell is he? Your fuck-buddy? Your new boy toy?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, but he’s on his way here so I suggest you leave before he makes you!”

At your threat, your ex throws his head back and laughs. “I know what he looks like. He’s not even half my body weight. I’m not fucking scared of him—”

The abrupt sound of your front door being kicked in aggressively stops him mid-sentence, and the sound of heavy boots stomping towards your bedroom causes him to freeze. Your ex shifts so he’s more upright and looks behind him, giving you a clear view of your doorframe; only to see Dabi standing in it, looking absolutely feral.

His dark hair is wilder then usual, obsidian spikes sticking up every which way, and he has on the dark, torn duster you’d first seen him in over his usual dark pants and white tee-shirt, giving him a an almost deranged look. He has a mean glint in his eyes you’ve never seen before, and he looks almost predatory as your bedroom casts odd shadows across his face. You’ve never seen him this pissed before, and all of your instincts are screaming at you to run as you take in his disheveled appearance.

“You’re not scared of me, huh?” Dabi chuckles, but there’s no humor to it. His voice is as cold as ice, but his eyes are like blue fire, and are locked on your ex.

“You should be.”

It’s the only warning you get before he lunges at your ex. The sudden tackle rips him off of you and Dabi wastes no time taking him to the floor as you bolt upright. You look on in shock as both men wrestle on the floor before it turns into an all-out slug fest between them. You leap out of the way as they make their way off the floor and crash into your walls, never once taking their hands off of each other as they yell obesities and filth that you’re certain your next-door neighbor can hear through your shared wall.

Honestly, you’re shocked at how well Dabi is handling himself – you didn’t think he was weak, but he’s much leaner then your ex and not as tall – yet, he’s clearly got the upper hand as he cracks your ex across the face in rapid succession. You freeze as his nose explodes into a mess of scarlet, splattering across his face and your wall as he yells out in pain, taking his hands off of Dabi to hold his nose in a pathetic attempt to stanch the bleeding. The sudden display of gore has the opposite effect on Dabi.

He stares at the blood flowing from your ex’s nose like a faucet, before shooting you an almost apologetic look.

“Sorry you have to see this doll.”

You don’t have time to ask him what he means before he seems to shift right before your eyes. The shadows of your room seem to warp and twist around him, and you think it’s just a trick of the moonlight streaming in from your window; until you watch his obsidian hair turn stark white.

You feel your eyes widen as his form shifts – you ex is too busy trying to keep his nose together to pay attention to what’s happening in front of him – but you notice a horrible burning smell wafting through the room as his once pale, flawless skin morphs into a patchwork mess of dusky, wrinkled burns, held together to the few patches of visible healthy skin by what looks like silver surgical staples glinting wickedly in the pale moonlight.

You have no idea what’s happening to him or who or what he is, but you feel your knees give out as he flashes you a nasty looking grin, giving you a full view of the wicked sharp fangs sliding down past his burnt lower lip.

“You—” you whisper, but you don’t manage to say anything more, before Dabi turns back to your ex, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him down to his level, before sinking his razor-sharp fangs into the side of his neck before the larger man can even register what’s happening.

Your ex tries to fend him off, but Dabi is stronger. He ends up relinquishing his hold on his hair in favour of wrapping his arms around him in a death embrace. You can’t pull your eyes off of the scene in front of you, as your ex’s struggling gradually grows weaker, while Dabi laps at the blood flowing freely from the deep puncture holes in the side of his neck.

You hear your ex gargle wetly in the back of his throat before he goes completely limp in the white-haired mans grip. After a moment, Dabi retracts his fangs from his neck, before tossing his motionless body to the floor. You whimper involuntarily as you cover your mouth, staring at the lifeless body of your ex-boyfriend as Dabi whirls around to face you, his piercing eyes finding yours.

“You killed him.” You whisper. Dabi only glances down at the still-warm corpse on your bedroom floor for half a second before locking eyes with you again.

“I did.”

“Why?”

“He was assaulting you.”

“Oh.” You croak lamely. You try not to stare at the red coating his lips and dripping down his chin, staining the white of his shirt.

A moment of silence descends on your room. The only thing you can hear is the frantic pounding of your heart in your chest – it’s so loud in the resounding silence, you’re sure Dabi can hear it. The air is so tense you can cut it with a knife, but neither of you make a move. Finally, you clear your throat.

“I think I’m going to call the police.”

“You’re not going to do that.”

When the ivory-haired creature speaks, his voice is low and quiet, but you can tell just by looking at his eyes, he means business. You swallow thickly and nod to the corpse behind him.

“There’s a dead body in my apartment Dabi, I need to call the police. I—” you cough, trying to reason with him. “I’m not going to tell them about you. I won’t say anything. I know you were trying to protect me, but I can’t just ignore a dead body in my bedroom—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Dabi interrupts you, waving a hand at the corpse dismissively. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What do you mean you’ll—”

Dabi snaps his fingers, and before you can blink, the corpse of your ex-boyfriend bursts into bright blue flames. You scream as you scramble backwards, pressing yourself further against the wall, as the flames rage and quickly consume the body before your eyes. Dabi only grins savagely at your reaction.

“Don’t be scared sweetheart. He’s trash. The least he can do is become fuel for my flames.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, watching as the cobalt flames extinguish themselves, leaving nothing but ash in their wake. “What are you?”

Dabi only stares you down as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think you already know the answer doll.”

You do. But you don’t think you can voice it out loud. You don’t know what it means for either of you now.

Dabi licks his mismatched lips, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his red tinted fangs. “You’re coming with me.”

You shake your head. “No, hold on—”

“I’m not giving you a choice sweetheart.”

He’s on you faster than you can blink. He slaps a brunt hand over your mouth before you can cry out. He grabs your chin with his free hand as he presses you up against the wall, forcing you to stare into his burning irises.

“Sleep.” He commands.

You feel a wave of sudden fatigue pass over you, and your eyelids flutter shut against your will. The last thing you remember is feeling his insanely warm arms wrap around you and a sudden feeling of weightlessness, before sleep takes you.

You wake up with a pounding headache.

Blinking away sleep, you slowly sit up with a groan and rub at your eyes, wincing internally as you feel your eye makeup smear even further. You slowly look around, only to freeze as it suddenly dawns on you have no idea where you are.

You’re in what appears to be a bedroom, but it’s hard to tell since it’s so dark. The window coverings block out any form of light from outside, keeping you quite literally in the dark. You have no idea what time it is or (more concerning), who’s bedroom you’re in, until the events from before you passed out come flooding back to you.

Your ex. Blood everywhere. Dabi. Scars. Blue flames. Fangs.

You shudder at the last thought. Had you hallucinated the whole thing? It didn’t seem real. You think back to feeling the heat of the flames that had consumed your ex-boyfriend on your skin, and you rub at your arms involuntarily.

No, they had definitely been real. Which means everything else was real too.

Currently, you were certain of two things:

One: your shitty ex was dead. Drained of his blood before being incinerated to a crisp before your very eyes.

Two: Dabi wasn’t human.

Before you can sink too far into your thoughts, you’re suddenly aware of a prickling sensation dancing along your skin. You know the feeling all too well, and as groggy as you might feel in the moment, you’re painfully aware someone’s watching you.

You’re not alone.

A slight shuffling noise from the far corner of the room catches your attention. You slowly turn in the direction of the sound with baited breath, only to see an abnormal looking shadow faintly outlined in the surrounding darkness of the room.

You already know who it is without him having to say anything.

“Dabi?” you call out to him timidly. A deep sigh answers you.

“Good, you’re awake. You’ve been out for a while.” He rasps quietly.

“Where am I?” you ask, squinting at his outline. The more you try to make him out, the more he seems to try and blend into the pitch of the room.

“My room. Back at the house. I drove us back here after you passed out.” You hear him kiss the back of his teeth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sleep for so long.”

“Wait, how long have I been out?” you question, as you feel around your surroundings, only to realize that he’s put you on his bed.

“About an hour. Dawn’s coming soon. I couldn’t leave you alone after you saw all… that.”

He doesn’t need to clarify what he means.

You both laps into an uncomfortable silence, before you finally gather up the courage to ask him the question that’s plagued you since he took you.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Silence answers you, and you feel yourself start to shake as every horrible scenario you can think of races through your head. Almost as if he senses the what you’re thinking about, you hear Dabi take a hesitant step forward, only to catch himself at the last second.

“…No.” he finally admits. “No, I’m not going to kill you.”

“Then why did you bring me here?” you sniff, as you try to control the tears you feel pricking at the corners of your lash line. “Why do any of this. What are you? Who are you?”

He doesn’t answer you. You squint into the abys of the room where you know he is, and you can faintly see his deep blue eyes gazing back at you, looking like twin flames in the gloom. You swallow hard and try a different approach.

“It’s too dark in here… can I have some light?”

Dabi sighs, but you hear him snap his fingers, and suddenly a candle you didn’t know was nearby, bursts into blue flames. The wicks hiss and sizzle before settling, casting an eerie blue glow around the room, illuminating it slightly. You glance to the corner where you know Dabi is, and you can see him a little better, though he seems to be trying to keep himself out of the light as much as possible.

You frown slightly. “Come here.” You tell him quietly, patting the space beside you on the bed. You know you’re tempting fate, but you believe him when you say he won’t hurt you. He had multiple chances to kill you, and yet; you’re still here.

You hear Dabi snort. “I don’t think you want that.”

You shake your head. “I do. C’mere. We need to talk.”

Dabi falls silent, but you see him turn towards you, and slowly makes his way over to you. The flickering blue light the candle provides casts twisted shadows over his lean frame as he stops just in front of you, and bends down so he’s eye level with you.

You find yourself face to face with a mess of painful looking burns covering the majority of his face, held together with countless surgical staples. The burns are everywhere; under his eyes, his neck, the entirety of his lower jaw, and even his ears. Now that you’re up close, you can see he even has some staples decorating his ears much like regular piercings, and he even has three studs dotting the right side of his nose. They suit him in a way, and you can’t help but find him handsome, even with half of his face completely ravaged by burns.

Dabi’s eyes glint savagely as you take him in slowly, his two-toned lips pulling back and exposing the deadly sharp fangs inside his maw. “Not pretty, is it?”

“What happened to you?” you whisper, hesitantly reaching up to touch his burnt lower jaw. Dabi seems to want to flinch away from your touch, but he forces himself to stay grounded as your fingertips gently brush his destroyed skin.

He laughs breathlessly and rakes a burnt hand aggressively through his now very white hair. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He agrees, pulling away from your gentle hands reluctantly. He trudges over to a small loveseat pushed up against the wall opposite to his bed and sits down on it, shrugging off his torn duster, before putting his head in his hands with a sigh, giving you a painful view of the long wine-coloured burns tracking down his arms and ending at his knuckles.

You try not to focus at the dried blood that’s still decorating his shirt and hands.

After a moment he props his head up on his hands, fixing you with his intense gaze, but still doesn’t say anything. You realize he’s waiting for you; but now you’re at a loss for words. The agitated vampire across the room from you sighs, and you can see the veins in his neck become more prominent as he forces himself to try and relax.

“I know you have questions, so ask.”

“So, you’re really a—” you cut yourself off and swallow thickly. Even though you know what he is without him saying it, you still can’t quiet bring yourself to say it out loud. He leans forward, smiling meanly as he rests his forearms on his knees, eyeing you with his burning stare of his, that suddenly seems so cold.

“Go on, you can say it.” He prompts you, finally getting you to unfreeze.

“—A vampire.” You finish lamely. He nods, leaning back and draping both arms over the back of the loveseat.

“You got it sweetheart.”

“But how?” you prod, finally finding your voice. “I thought they were myth?”

“So did I, until one bit me.” Dabi snickers unkindly across from you, before quieting down, allowing you to ask your next question.

“How did you become one?”

“I died.” Dabi tells you flatly, avoiding your gaze for the first time since he brought you here. His nose scrunches up after he says it.

“Well, I almost did. Technically I was walking the line between life and death when the old fucker found me.”

He sighs and runs a blood-stained hand through his spiky white mane, leaving faint russet streaks behind. You force yourself to maintain eye contact with him as he speaks again.

“When I was alive, my name was Touya Todoroki.” He admits softly, giving you his real name for the first time since you met him. “I was taking a walk in the woods near my family home when a forest fire broke out, burning everything. I got trapped in the blaze and I ended up with these.” He gestures to the dark patches of gnarled skin covering the majority of his visible skin.

“I’m not sure how I managed to survive, and I don’t know how long I was left there for; but it was the vampire who ended up turning me, who found me in the aftermath. I was in bad shape and probably would’ve died if he hadn’t given me his blood, turning me into this.”

He says it so scathingly. You know he’s frustrated without him having to tell you. Still… the horrific burns that mar his skin tell you a story of unspeakable agony. There’s no way a normal person would’ve been able to survive what he went through without help. His help just happened to have come from an unexpected source.

“He saved you.” You murmur quietly, causing Dabi… Touya… whatever his name was, to snort bitterly.

“He didn’t fucking ask, he just did, consequences be damned. Believe me, there was plenty of days at the beginning where I wish he hadn’t and just let me die.”

His bluntness causes a deep ache to bloom in your chest as you take in the vast amount of damage covering his body. You can only imagine how much worse the burns had been when he’d first been turned, on top of dealing with becoming what he is now. Before you can say anything, Dabi continues on, still refusing to look at you directly.

“After he turned me; my sire brought me back with him to recover. I ended up staying with him for a few years while I was figuring out my new body before I eventually left. Found my way here a while ago and never ended up leaving. Been here ever since.” He looks at you pointedly. “Don’t ask me how old I am. I stopped keeping track a while ago.”

Normally you’d be content to leave it there (honestly, now that he’s said it, you’re not sure if you want to know exactly how old he is anyways), but he has a car, which means he must have a license of some kind, which then begs the question how he was able to get one in the first place.

“Wait, so if you’re a vampire and you’re… older than you look, how have you been able to get a drivers license, or any I.D. for that matter?” Dabi snorts.

“Remember how Compress works as an entertainer?”

“Yeah…?”

“Turns out he’s really good at forgery too.”

“Oh.” You furrow your brows at his explanation.

“So… Compress knows about your… condition?” Dabi smirks at your hesitance.

“Oh yeah. Fully aware.”

“Is he… I mean… is everyone in the house a—”

“We’ll put it this way doll: nobody in this house has a heartbeat except for you.”

Well, this just kept getting better and better. Not only was your crush and his friend’s part of the undead; they were also committing fraud. You definitely knew how to pick them.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t be as surprised as you are upon hearing the rest of Dabi’s roommates are also vampires. All of them operated at night, and they definitely had quirks that set them apart from other people. Not to mention it would also explain the feeling of unease you always experienced around them. You’re more shocked at how many there are, which brings you to your next question:

“So, your sire—” you look at him questionably, waiting for him to explain. Thankfully, he provides you with an answer.

“—is a term referring to the one who turns you, yeah. Mine happened to be a particularly old bastard. Strong as hell, but old as time. He had a lot of influence over my kind back in the day. Pretty sure he died some years back. No idea who killed him, but I’d thank them if I knew.” He pauses before laughing lightly.

“Come to think of it; Shigaraki and I share the same sire, but he stayed with him way longer than I did. I left as soon as I could.”

Well, that was interesting news. “Why?”

“He played favourites.” The snowy-haired vampire grins at you from across the way, but there’s no warmth behind his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure he turned me first, but I was already gone by the time Shigaraki came into the picture. We knew of each other, but our paths never crossed. He sought me out a year or two before our sire bit the dust, and I’ve been stuck with him ever since. As for the others…” he waves his hand dismissively. “Hell if I know. They just sort of showed up one day, one after the other. I don’t know how they found us, s’not like I was broadcasting we were here, but they still came regardless, and then they never left.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about what happened to your sire.” You tell him. “It must be hard, loosing your mentor like that.” To your surprise Dabi only laughs, waving off your concerns.

“Don’t be. In fact, I’m not. I’m glad he’s gone. Shigaraki was more torn up about it then I ever was, but even he got over it. There’s a lot of perks that come along with your sire dying. Powerful perks.” He leans forward, pointing to the blue flames chewing away at the candle wicks.

“When it comes to vampire hierarchy, the most powerful vampires are the older ones who create the majority of newer vampires. The vampires they turn are basically their pawns – never to get any stronger – unless, their creator dies. Then they can inherit some of their former sire’s abilities through succession.”

He grins darkly at the confused expression you know you must be wearing on your face, because he elaborates before you can ask. He taps the marred skin of his lower jaw.

“If you haven’t noticed, I can shift between my real face, and the one you’re used to seeing; minus the burns. I didn’t used to be able to do that. Do you know how fucking difficult it is to go out in public when your face looks like this? Even at night, all people do is stare. It’s fucking annoying.” He shakes his head, allowing the dim candle light to reflect off his pale hair, giving it a blue tinge. “There’s a bunch of other things I can do now, but this is the most useful.”

“Like the flames?” You ask. Surprisingly, Dabi shakes his head.

“No, that I’ve always been able to do since I turned. My own special ability if you will. Normally you get one when you become a vampire. Shigaraki can decay shit; Toga can transform herself into a different person if she’s drank their blood; Twice can create multiple copies of himself; you get the picture. there’re some weird ones out there. Mine’s a sick fucking joke, considering it’s what killed me in the first place, but it’s powerful, so I can’t complain too much.”

“Oh.” You mumble, still trying to wrap your head around what he’s telling you, but you know you’re failing miserably. You’re not worried about him killing you, but you still don’t understand why he’s telling you all this.

“So… you don’t want to kill me.” You clarify gently. Dabi only shakes his head.

“No. Wouldn’t have bothered tell you all that if I did.” He confirms softly.

“Then what do you want with me?” you ask him again. Dabi sighs.

“I don’t think it’s a secret that I like you princess.” He tells you with the faintest hint of a smirk, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. “—and I know you like me too.” He adds after a pause.

Your mouth twitches and you nod slowly before looking away. “I do, it’s just... this is a lot to take in.”

A thought occurs to you suddenly, an awful thought. One that you wish you didn’t think of, but now that you have, you have to ask.

“All those people… the missing ones from the boardwalk… that was you, wasn’t it?”

His silence is telling.

“Oh my god Dabi…” you whisper, running a hand through your hair as you let out a breathless laugh. “There’s so many people… how long have you been doing this for?”

“To be fair, not all of them were me.” He corrects you, but his answer lacks any of his usual fire. “There are five other vampires here. I can’t drain over a hundred people by myself. Besides, I don’t need much to survive. I can go two or three weeks without feeding, but the longer I go without blood, the worse the thirst is.”

“Over a hundred?” you sputter. You think back to all the faces you’d seen posted on the bulletin board. Some postings had been quite old while others had been days old, and there had probably been more before them – many more.

“Like I said; we’ve been here a long time. We never get old, and we basically never die… but we have to feed. That’s the trade off.” Dabi tells you solemnly.

“We normally try to go for people who won’t be missed; drunks, the occasional asshole who pisses us off… and some piece of shit abusers.” He growls ominously, and you know that he’s referring to your ex without him having to say it.

“… But some people just end up coming across us at the wrong place at the wrong time.” He admits after a moment. “We try to be selective about who we feed off of, but if we’re starving, we have to feed, otherwise we would go feral.”

“Is that why you brought me here?” you hate that you have to ask him, but you need to know. “To feed off of?”

“Hell no.” Dabi reaffirms. “Of course not. Your blood smells incredible, and I’d be lying if I told you I hadn’t thought about drinking from you...” He bites his burnt lower lip as you visibly cringe in front of him, before quickly adding: “But I’m not going to feed off you. I enjoy having you around too much. You’re different from the other humans I’m forced to be around. Besides, I’m not hungry anyways.”

You try not to read too much into that.

“So then what are your plans for me?” you finally ask, as you pull one of the blankets you were laying on over your legs. “Why bother telling me any of this? Do… do the others know I’m here?”

“They know. If you’re worried about them getting at you, they won’t. They’d have to go through me, and I’m not someone they want to fight anyways. I’d light their asses up if they got within ten feet of you. But they don’t want you harmed either, so don’t worry about them.”

“You’re sure about that?”

Dabi scoffs. “Shigaraki isn’t happy that I brought you back here, but he’s a miserable bastard on a good day. I couldn’t very well leave you back at your place anyways.”

“So then what happens now?” you ask quietly. “I don’t think things can go back to the way they were before.”

Dabi shakes his head; his ivory spikes sway sightly at the motion. “No. They can’t. I figured if I brought you back here and tried to explain what was going on, you’d understand at least a little. I wouldn’t have bothered saving you from that piece of shit if I didn’t somewhat care for you, you know.”

“I know.” You pause before averting your eyes, and mumbling bashfully; “Thank you for saving my life. I have no idea what he was going to do with me, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I was… so scared.” You admit as you drop your gaze to your hands.

You ex had never acted like that before in the past – even when things were at an all-time low between you, he’d never physically assaulted you. The look he’d had in his eyes could’ve fooled you into thinking he was possessed by a demon. You don’t want to think about what would’ve happened had Dabi not intervened.

At your silence, Dabi stands from his spot and slowly makes his way over to you, giving you plenty of time to stop him if you wanted, but you let him approach. He cautiously kneels on the bed in front of you, and slowly takes your hands in his large, scarred ones.

“Look;” he tells you softly, but firmly. “I wasn’t lying when I said I like you. There’s something about you I find irresistible – and it’s got nothing to do with how I find the smell of your blood intoxicating either. I want you to stay… with me, that is.”

You feel yourself soften at his admission and he groans in the back of his throat, squeezing your hands. “Look. I’m not good at this shit. I’ve been around a long time and I’ve never been good at it – never needed to be – but ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to keep you all to myself.” He bites out a laugh at his admission.

“It’s selfish of me to say that; especially considering everything that happened with your ex – but you make me want to be.” He licks his lips before quietly admitting;

“I may be a monster, but I certainly won’t treat you like one.”

You mull over his words for a moment. His eyes convey nothing but sincerity, and you find yourself believing what he’s saying to you. You squeeze his hands back.

“I feel the same way about you.” You admit, watching as a variety of emotions flicker through his eyes. Shock. Surprise. Acceptance, and something else you couldn’t quite place—

“Can I kiss you? He suddenly blurts out. You blink, realizing he’d gradually gotten closer to you, invading your space and crowding you in. If it’d had been anyone else, you’d be uncomfortable with how close they were to you; but it’s Dabi, and even with the knowledge of what he was, you don’t feel anything but calm.

Odd, considering you’d watched him murder a man right in front of you not too long ago – but even knowing that, you know he won’t hurt you.

You nod, your eyes slipping closed, and he leans in and presses his two-toned lips to your own. The texture of his lips is unlike anything you’ve ever felt; his upper lip is soft while his bottom lip is rough and chapped from the burns, but the contrast is nice, and you feel yourself sigh into the kiss, giving him further access to your mouth. The scarred man takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss, as you feel his hands leave your own to cradle either side of your face. You realize how big his hands are when you feel his fingers splay out across your lower jaw and sweep over the pulse point in your neck, keeping you tethered to him as you fist your hands in his shirt.

You only pull back when air becomes too much of a necessity, but not before you boldly run your tongue over the too-sharp teeth hidden in his mouth, causing Dabi to laugh slightly as he watches you regain your breath. His hands never leave the sides of your face, as you reach up to cover the backs of his stapled covered hands with your smaller ones.

“You’re playing a dangerous game sweetheart.” he chuckles, slowly rubbing circles onto your face with his fingertips. “Keep doing that, and I really won’t be able to control myself around you.”

His statement makes you blush and you squeeze his hands. “Dabi I—"

“Touya.”

“What—?”

“Touya. My real name. It’s Touya.” He tells you breathlessly. “You asked me when we first met what my real name was. It’s Touya. Just call me Touya.”

“Touya.” You test his real name out gently, and a pleased rumble escapes the back of his throat.

“Fuck, it sounds good coming from you.” He tells you, eyes half-lidded. “Really good.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as he closes the gap between you again, pressing his lips to your own, only this time, he’s bolder and allows his hands to wander down your body until they settle on your hips, hot as a brand.

“Shit.” You murmur as you wrap your arms around his neck. Touya chuckles against your lips before tilting his head so his head his mouth is right next to your ear.

“If you want to keep going, just know I’m not going to stop.” He rasps as he squeezes your hips. “I won’t force you, but if you don’t want to then you have to tell me now—”

You cut him off by turning your head and pressing your lips to his again, prompting him to pull you closer until you’re practically straddling his lap.

“Fuck.” He snarls as he shifts and pins you down on his bed. “Here I was trying to be nice. Trying to be good for you, but you had to go and rile me up—”

“Touya.” You whimper as you feel something hard pressing into your inner thigh. “Touya please. Don’t tease.”

“Fuck sweetheart, I know. Don’t worry I’m going to take care of you.” He hisses as he paws at your shirt. “Fucking—take this shit off. I want to see you.”

He helps strip you out of your clothes in record time, and suddenly you find yourself bare before him. You move to cover your exposed breasts but Touya swiftly pins your hands. He doesn’t bother to try and hide his unapologetic gaze as he takes in the sight of your naked body on his bed.

He looks at you as if you’re a work of art, you realize, and he seems to be completely lost in you. You call out to him gently, snapping him out of whatever trance he’s fallen under.

“I can’t believe you’re letting someone like me do this to someone like you.” He admits. “Even after I told you what I am. After you’ve seen what I can do. What I’ve done.” He shakes his head, but his eyes light up as a wicked smirk overtakes his features, allowing his fangs to peak out from under his lip.

“Think you might be as fucked up as me, pretty girl. No woman in their right mind would let a monster like me fuck them after watching me kill their shitbag ex. You’re a sick little thing, aren’t you?” he teases you, but you only shake your head.

“You’re not a monster.” You tell him sincerely. “I don’t think you are.”

Touya only smiles down at you as he touches his forehead to yours. “Think you might be the only person in the world who thinks that sweetheart, but thank you.”

You fist your hand in his bloodied shirt. “Take this off.” You tell him, and for the first time, he hesitates slightly.

“It’s not pretty underneath.” He warns you. “The burns go all the way down.”

You help him out of his shirt in response.

He’s not wrong: his torso is a mosaic of dark purple burns and staples crossing over his shoulders, stomach and back. His legs aren’t much better once you shimmy his pants down his legs, but you couldn’t care less once you see his cock.

It’s beautiful and pale like the rest of his unmarred skin, it’s a good length, and decently thick. The tip is flushed red and you can’t help but swallow in anticipation as he kneels between your legs again. Touya grins as he hovers over you.

“I can hear your heart about to burst out of your chest princess. You might wanna calm down; don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Shut up.” You mumble sheepishly, prompting him to laugh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve—well…”

Touya chuckles at your hesitance. “Me too.” He admits, and for some reason, it makes you feel better. Touya’s eyes rake down your exposed form, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drags his eyes up to your neck. “You smell so good.”

“Do you want to?” you ask breathlessly, turning your head slightly to the side. “I could let you—”

“No, not yet.” Touya murmurs, bending down to kiss you. “Let me try something.”

You don’t get the chance to ask him what he means before he’s bent down between your legs, and licking a long stripe through the middle of your pussy with the flat of his tongue.

You let out a load moan and throw your head back as he begins to lap at your pussy like a man starved, his large hands hold your thighs open as he licks at your center. You whimper and moan as he eats you out with vigor – your cries only increasing in volume as he introduces his fingers to where you need him most.

He starts with one pushing deep into your core, but it isn’t long before he’s adding a second digit, scissoring you open as he eats you out like he’s biting into a ripe fruit, and you feel divine.

It’s not long before you feel yourself teetering on the edge, and you close your eyes as you prepare to fall – only for your eyes to suddenly snap open as you feel something sharp digging into your inner thigh. You bolt up with a gasp only to see your vampire’s fangs buried in the meat of your thigh as he continues to pump his long fingers in and out of you.

Your blood dribbles down his chin as he continues to suck on you – moaning around your leg – and some sick part of your brain thinks it’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. You reach down and fist your hand in his hair, tugging on it slightly and watch his eyes close as he groans something that sounds suspiciously like “harder.”

His fingers brush up against your sweet spot when you tug on the blood-streaked strands again, and you buck up into his hand, causing him to stroke the spot again and again has he drinks your blood. You’re getting light-headed and you can’t tell if it’s from your impending orgasm or the blood loss, before Touya pulls away from your leg, and twists his fingers just right, causing you to fall over the edge with a loud gasp as you feel yourself come undone.

“Fuck me.” You hear Touya snarl, and suddenly he’s looming over you again, caging you in with both his arms on either side of you, mouth dripping red with your blood. He grins down at you sadistically, elongated fangs streaked red with your blood. “That’s so fucking hot.”

You only moan in response as you feel for the puncture wounds he’s left in your thigh, but he swats your hand away as he lines himself in with your entrance. He pins both of your hands above your head with his free hand, and swoops down to press a heated kiss to your neck before slamming himself home – filling you up in one fluid motion.

You feel your back arch off the bed, and your mouth drops open in a silent ‘o’ as you struggle to adjust to his size. Above you, Touya hisses, as he struggles to keep himself in check.

“I can feel you squeezing down on me.” He pants. “You keep doing that, I’m not going to last long.” He warns you, but you shake your head.

“Don’t care. I just—I just want to feel you Touy—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before he’s moving within you. His movements are deep and deliberate, leaving your breathless as he snaps his hips against yours at a brutal pace. He’s relentless, almost as if he’s trying to make a home for himself in your depths. You notice that his pupils are dilating and shrinking rapidly as he struggles to hold himself back break completely breaking you.

“Fuuuck.” The white-haired vampire groans as he slides his hand down to your hip, holding you in place as he pounds into your gummy walls. “You’re perfect. I knew you would be. I wanted you. I wanted you from the moment I smelled your blood. I’m glad I didn’t—” he cuts his ramblings off, and buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as you moan his name.

You feel his fangs ghosting along your neck, and it brings you back to reality. You weakly tap at his hand holding both of yours prisoner with your fingers, and he quickly releases you. You opt to wrap your arms around his burnt neck – being mindful of the staples holding his skin together – trying to keep him as close as possible, as his other hand finds your free hip, and grips you hard enough that you know you’ll have handshape bruises by the time you’re done.

But that doesn’t matter, not when he’s trying his damnedest to rearrange your insides.

“I’m close.” You murmur in his burnt ear, and he grunts in acknowledgment.

“Me too.” He rumbles, pressing his warm body to yours. “Need you to come for me doll. Need to feel it—” he sneakily reaches down to rub at your clit, and that does you in.

You come with a choked scream and he follows you with an almost feral snarl. You feel his cock twitch and are rewarded by the warm stream of his dead seed deep within you. It’s too much stimulation, and you try to move away, but he follows you, holding you down with his body weight. You feel the press of his fangs like a whisper against your neck, but he doesn’t bite down, much to your surprise.

You stay glued together for what feels like an eternity, only for him to pull out of your body with a huff and flop down next to you on his bed. He doesn’t go far though, and opts to pull you close to his scar-ridden body so you’re practically laying on top of his chest; not that you mind though.

It’s funny, now that you’re so close to him – it’s only now that you realize he doesn’t have a heartbeat.

It should be concerning. It should have you running for the hills. You should be panicking at the knowledge of the literal undead roaming around, draining unsuspecting victims of their life blood – and while you’re still not sure what to think of the last part – you also know the vampire next to you wouldn’t hurt you. He’s protected you in his own gory way, and while you know you probably shouldn’t; you feel safe around him.

You trace the seams of his scars, and feel him hum contentedly in the back of his throat as he shifts you slightly against him. Peering at the dark window coverings, you can see the faint traces of dawn light trying to break through. Touya follows your gaze through heavily lidded eyes.

“Guess you’re staying here doll; I’m not going out in that. I’ll take you home later.”

“What, so you can make me do the walk of shame in front of your roommates?” you ask him, causing him to laugh.

“They won’t say anything. Not if they don’t want to get turned to ash.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and flashes his fangs at you, glinting wickedly in the low candle-light. You tap them hesitantly.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Bite me. You could’ve.”

“Your leg says otherwise sweetheart.”

“Not that.” You brush him off. “I mean my neck. I know you wanted to. I could feel you.”

Touya exhales loudly through his pierced nose. “I did.” He admits. “The problem is, if I did, I probably wouldn’t stop.”

“Ah.”

You lapse into silence for a moment more, before you go back to tracing seams of his broken skin. “Can you turn people? Into what you are?”

He only nods, closing his eyes gently. “I can.” He confirms. “Never done it before though. Never had the need or want to.”

You feel your heart speed up in your chest, and you know he must be able to hear it as you force yourself to ask; “What would you do, if I asked you to turn me one day?” Touya only chuckles.

“I’d turn you into my own personal thrall. Keep you by my side.”

“Oh, so like some sort of slave?” you tease weakly, but Touya only shakes his head with a slight grimace.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a Dracula’s Bride sort of arrangement actually. I wouldn’t put you through the shit I went through when I first turned.”

The implication hangs heavy in the air between you, but he doesn’t make a move to take it back. You twist and prop yourself up on your elbow so you’re looking him dead in his eyes, only to see he’s deadly serious, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“You mean that?”

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” he tells you gruffly, placing one of his large hands on your head and pushing you back down to his chest. “Don’t ask me shit like that unless you’re actually serious though. It’s a one-way street. The change is permanent. You’re this forever.” He warns you.

He must see the hesitation in your eyes, because his voice softens, and the hand that’s currently holding your head down switches to lightly combing through your hair.

“Live your life for now sweetheart. My offer still stands: If you really want to toss your mortality out the window. I’ll be the one to take it from you. But for now, just think about it. You can give me your answer when you’re ready.”

“…and what if I decide I’m never ready?”

Touya chuckles. “Then you’ll have my undead ass as a boyfriend when you’re an old lady up until the day you die.”

“A boyfriend huh?” you tease, grinning up at him softly. He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I just told you I’d make you my thrall, that’s all you’re getting from me pretty girl.”

“You basically said you’d make me your wife. Dracula’s bride, remember?”

Touya rolls his eyes, and you swear you see the faintest dusting of pink flash across the parts of his cheeks that aren’t brunt, but it’s gone as soon as it came, prompting you to giggle, and you both fall into a comfortable silence.

He squeezes you once after a heartbeat. “I’d take care of you, you know; if you wanted me to turn you. I’ll take care of you now, but I’ll look after you if and when you decide you want me to change you. You know my secret so you’re stuck with me now. It’s not like I can let you go. You don’t have a choice.”

You laugh in spite of yourself and snuggle closer to him. “I could think of worse things.”

“You say that now…”

“and I’ll mean it later.” You tell him as you reach up to stroke the burnt flesh of his jaw. “Really, I do.”

You feel Touya press a light kiss to the crown of your head, “Yeah I know.” He confirms, murmuring into your hair. “Now, sleep. I’ll take you back to your place once the sun has set. We’ll figure out what to say to your landlord about the scorch marks I left behind. Worse comes to worse, you can just move in here with me.”

You feel your eyelids droop at his words and you snuggle into his burnt flesh, trying your best not to apply any more added pressure to the sutures keeping him together, as you feel his arms settle at your waist, keeping you close to him.

You weren’t sure what the future held for you now, but you were sure that whatever it decided to throw your way, your vampire wouldn’t be far behind you.

FIN

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zialltops · 3 months

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honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

masterlist | ao3 | spotify playlist

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his mouth connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck.

a/n: this chapter was so fun to write, I accidentally made it 9.5k words lol, but it was such a relief (ish) to write. Some new warning apply to this chapter, so please be advised of those. We get to see a whole new side to Joel this chapter and we’ll get to see some “in the making of” this chapter in the following one. A little bit of context on why Joel changes so abruptly and the reasoning behind his decisions. I hope you all know how much i love love love you guys for being here for me while i struggle to find time to write. I’m working on getting back on my feet every day and this is the one safe place I have to escape and indulge in my favorite coping mechanism. Much love, H 🤍

Chapter 7–You Don’t Want That Smoke

Your birthday falls on Friday this year, (lucky you) but it also means the First Friday dance falls on your birthday this year as well. It’s the first community event after the cold winter months and by that time, most people are itching to get out of their snow-buried homes. The town usually puts on the event to celebrate the coming spring, hosting venders of all sorts and games for the families. Growing up, your parents would take you to the petting zoo and let you ride the ponies, like you didn’t have a horse at home, like there wasn’t a whole ranch to attend to, animals to raise up and sell, like you could just for a moment, be a normal little girl from a quiet street who’d never sat in a saddle in her life.

If only that had been the case, ever. If only you’d had parents who pursued safe, reliable careers, where they had pensions and retirement, insurance and benefits, instead of breaking their backs for a ranch that had been dying long before it was left to your mother by her parents. Was it obligation that kept them here, or was it something else? Was it the same thing that got you through years of college, all in an attempt to keep your parents' dream alive for a little while longer?

It’s Wednesday, which means you have two more days before your birthday and Melly’s plane lands in a few hours from Colorado, but so far your morning has taken you five rounds in the octagon and is currently coming back for more.

“—No! The statements I just got in the mail yesterday said we have ninety days to come up with three months worth of the mortgage before the property faces foreclosure.”

The woman on the other end of the phone sighs at you and you can hear the way her hands hit her keyboard. “I know that, ma’am, but that was a month and a half ago and we still have not received any payments. The bank sent another letter, requesting that the entire six month worth of back payments be received by the end of the ninety days or the property will be foreclosed on.”

The routinely scripted response feels like an open handed slap to the face, white hot pain snapping through your veins like lightning on the Wyoming plains. You sink down into the dining room chair and let it soak in all the way.

“How many days do we have left?” You hear yourself whisper into the phone but it’s not you speaking, not really—its a absent reflex like blinking or breathing.

“That's…51 days, ma’am. We’ll contact you again in thirty days if we have not received the entire amount by that time.”

Your eyes burn and blur, tears for the years of your life wasted on a useless education, until they surge past the dam and plummet to the paper below. When you look down at the document, your tears are stained red by the ink on the foreclosure notice. “How much will it be, again?” Defeated, Inadequate and Doomed.

“Fourteen thousand, three hundred and forty dollars, for six months worth of the Mortgage and late fees accumulated.” She sounds annoyed when she reads off the obscene number, like she isn’t sealing the fate of your family home, the dream your parents have worked their whole lives for to pass down to you—all wasted on a backed mortgage that your parents took out on the farm when you were born.

The full circle indicates that losing your family’s livelihood was your fault, from start to finish. You didn’t make it in time. All your hard work, and you’re still going to lose it.

“Is that everything, ma’am?”

Click

You drop the phone and sob into your arms, your whole body shaking and heaving with every sharp inhale. In your best attempt to keep quiet, you attract the attention of the one person you long to keep this from, your sweet, well meaning mom.

She’s soft spoken when she soothes you, rubs your back while you dry up your tears against her chest and she doesn’t ask why, just kisses your forehead and smiles one of those sweet sweet smiles at you and says, “We’ll get through this, Honey, don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure this out together.”

And you believe her, enough to reel in your hiccups, enough to ease your searing tears. “Why don’t you take a break from work, Melly gets here soon, yeah? You got everything you girls need?”

You smile at her, thankful for her ability to distract you from the things that keep you up at night. She knows you better than anyone, she’s your best friend. “Maybe we can stop at the store after we get her, but we gotta leave soon—“ you check the time, one hour until her plane touches down in Jackson and it takes forty five minutes to get there alone.

“Actually Honey, about that…I can't go with you. I’m not feeling up to it and I thought I would whip up dinner for you girls. But I got someone to go with you,”

You stand up from the chair and put the papers back into the envelope. “Mom, I really can go alone, I drove all the way here—“ she stops you with a quiet scuff. “You got stuck in the snow and Joel had to pull you out.” Joel, that son of a bitch…that big, sexy cowboy son of a bitch who left you in the snow. Who huffs and puffs and walks around like the sweatiest, filthiest, most delicious version of every nasty fantasy you’ve ever had. Of course she would drag him into this, maybe she’s the one who’s after the help.

“Speak of the devil,” she has this knowing look when her gaze travels past you to the doorway of the dining room. You glance over your shoulder to find yourself smack dab in the middle of one of those filthy dreams, dressed in green plaid and his brown Carhartt jacket, his black cowboy hat resting atop his head with curls peeking out of the sides, kissing the tips of his ears. His beard has grown out a tad too, making him look soft all over, scruffy and curly with a dimpled smile. The sight of him comes with a sudden rush of soothing comfort, warm eyes that make you feel safe, hidden in the shadows of his hat.

“Heard I was takin’ you somewhere?” He’s broad and sturdy, with a slight sheen of sweat on the peaks of his collarbones under his shirt. Under his beard, his neck is taught and his muscles are strained, his pulse visible beneath his skin despite his cool composure. If you know Joel, he did a days worth of work this morning to clear his schedule for the rest of the afternoon. He probably smells like sweat and dirt, like horses and leather under all that damn southern charm he possesses.

Actually, you can take me anywhere. On the couch, in my room, hell—in the glow of a fridge light.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to bite off your involuntary groan, shooting your mom a sharp look. She may play coy, might act like she's this innocent and sweet, cookie baking, laundry folding, house making mom who knows no better, but you see what she’s really up to. How she hides behind her little false oblivion, a facade she usually only uses for good. This doesn’t feel like it was for the greater good.

“You—“ you sneer at her quietly and she smiles with a “Not sure what you mean dear, but you better get a move on. I have to get dinner in the oven!” She scurries out of the room and into the next, letting the door swing closed behind her. Joel remains in the same spot, one shoulder pressed against the white wood frame of the old door, his muddy boots on the dark hardwood floors. Your eyes drag up the rest of him, his pants are tight in the middle, hugging his hips and probably just barely restraining what lays below the dark blue denim. There's a soft curve to his belly, made apparent when his arms cross over his chest and pull his shirt tight against his front.

His belly looks so damn soft. So fucking round and bite-able. A few more clicks up, his chest nearly bulging out of the buttons of the flannel. The buttons hang on for dear life, but you’re afraid if he flexes, they will scatter to the floor with your resolve.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. “Doin’ alright there, darlin’?” If his presence wasn’t enough, the bourbony southern drawl and the way he cocks his hip makes your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. “Yeah—Yep, just need to get dressed and I’ll be ready.” You’re still in a big sleep shirt, have been all morning because work for you doesn’t require pants half of the time. When you start to breeze past, his eyes drop to the exposed skin of your thighs.

“Been wonderin’…” he stops you with a big hand, pressed against your sternum when you try to pass by his solid form. He’s still faced the opposite direction than your body, only his head turns to look down at you, gone still beneath his stern fingertips. “If you always walk around naked under these shirts, or if you��re wearin’ somethin’ under there when mom and dad are ‘round?”

His eyes flick back to the door leading into the kitchen, where your mother is currently hiding from your scowl, then back down to the hem of your oversized shirt. The hand on your ribs shifts when you haul in a deep, stuttering breath. It slips a few inches lower, the tips of his thick fingers dipping into the flesh of your stomach, just below your belly button. He’s so close and so fucking firm where he holds you in place.

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself, Cowboy?”

You challenge him back and you swear he stops breathing beside you. He meets your dare with a low growl, reverberating inside his rib cage like a shout in a vast canyon. What the hell is happening right now, did he hit his head or something? Is he finally getting the fucking hint? How desperately you want him to have his way with you? Then again, the last time he saw you dressed like this, you were bent over, knowingly showing off everything you had to offer, the place you wanted him most, while you listened to the guttural sounds leaving the unsuspecting man behind you. You aren’t going to complain about the sudden shift in his attention, hell no—you’ll soak in what you can get from the leery cowboy.

You hardly register the way he moves until he leans forward and warm fingertips graze the skin just under your ass. He’s looking when he lifts the shirt all the way up to your tailbone slowly, covered by smooth black satin, a thong that hugs your hips but leaves your cheeks exposed to his greedy sight. His eyes are everywhere, your thighs and the curve of your bare behind. His fingers dip just under the black satin band on your hip, his expression is just shy of a devoted man as he drinks in the contrasting sensation of your smooth skin and the silky material.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, letting his hand slip from your panties to travel back down, unsure fingers tracing along the crease of your ass, curling under your cheek when he gets to the bottom. It’s the softest touch you’ve ever felt, full of admiration and barely restrained desire. It sets your skin on fire, radiating behind your eyelids. “Those are…damn pretty, sugar…but you better go get yourself ready, before you’re late.” His hands slip away from you completely and he turns in the direction of the door, already on his way out before you even fully process what just happened. What flipped inside of Joel on a random Wednesday afternoon in late February?

He leaves with a satisfied smirk with intentions of starting the truck while you stammer against the doorway and remind yourself to breathe. When the front door closes behind him, you lean against the wood he was just propped against, hoping his heat will still linger there. He instigated something, a secret whisper of want, the thought makes a grin break out from one side of your face to the other, pulling your cheeks tight. He wants you.

You get dressed with that same stupid grin plastered on your face. You shift through your closet a few times, but you keep falling back on the same outfit. A pair of flared jeans, light in color with stitch work on the sides. With a pair of boots, they make your ass look like a dream—just what you are going for, just so you can rile Joel further. You find a tight top and a thick wool flannel to throw over it, before tracking back down the stairs to the front door.

It’s the rush of adrenaline that shocks the agony from your brain, but the moment you bound down the front steps to his waiting truck, the door already propped open, you pause.

You stop at the foot of the stairs and turn, looking up the steps you’ve known your entire life, the screen door you’ve spent numerous summers swinging in and out of. The porch you’ve watched storms roll in from, the porch swing where you had your first kiss. All this and…your heart sinks. When you turn back towards the running chevy, Joel is staring back at you, his once knowing smirk traded in for a furrow of concern on his handsome features.

You climb into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt while Joel puts the truck in gear and pulls away from the house.

There’s a long stretch of road that passes in near silence, before it’s you who just can’t take it anymore. Joel, sweet fucking Joel sat beside you, respecting your emotions and your boundaries once again. “Ranch is ‘bout to be foreclosed.” You tell him. Once it’s spoken aloud, you realize just how imminent your family’s demise really is. How quickly you are going to lose everything, watch your parents walk away with no retirement and nothing to show for themselves, for generations of hard work.

You expect something, questions about how you know, how long you have, if there's anything he can do to help you, but the questions never come. Instead, Joel reaches over and presses his fingers into the latch on your buckle, pulling it off of you with one click.

“C’mere, sweet girl.” His tone is low, soft enough to not interrupt your thoughts, but enough to have you drawing across the bench seat and slipping under his sturdy arm while he drives. He keeps you tucked in close beside him, his hand trailing up and down your arm to ease out the pain residing in your veins. He takes one glance down at you and leans forward, his lips connecting with the crown of your head. “We’ll get through it. We ain’t goin’ down without a hell of a fight.”

Because after the years you’ve spent away from this place, Joel has come to think of the Rising Sun ranch as his home just as much as it is yours. He’d raised every one of the cattle on that ranch, he’s worked day and night to ensure its survival, he’s lost sleep and nearly limbs fighting to keep them afloat while you were gone. This is his home, his fight right alongside yours. Finally, the weight seems to ease up, shouldered by Joel's sense of responsibility for your family’s livelihood.

Beside you, he’s solid and warm, he’s alive and overflowing with strength, enough to spare, for something to cling to. You turn your head and bury your face in his shoulder, covering yourself in the shield of protection he has to offer, sturdy, devoted support that makes you feel lightheaded with security. He doesn’t push you further, doesn’t prod you for details. He just hangs on, keeps your body tucked in close to his while he drives into town. At some point, the rattling of the old truck along patchy highway roads lulls you into sleep with your head against his shoulder and one leg across his lap.

Joel, with all the strength he can muster—holds on tight.

“Hey,” your senses come rushing back when the truck comes to a stop and your warm pillow jostles under your head. You lift up off his weight a little and glance at him through a sleepy gaze, a soft smile present on his lips. “As much as I like you droolin’ all over me…” he gestures to wet stain on his flannel. “Think your friends plane lands soon, don’t want you to miss it.”

You get yourself together enough to look out the window. Joel parked right outside of baggage claim at Jacksons little airport and his arm still sits tightly around your shoulders. A deep sigh sets in to your bones and you lean against him for just a moment longer to soak in the warmth. “Hey, look at me, darlin’,” his hand wraps around your chin gently, coaxing your eyes up to his. “Don’t think about the ranch, at least till the week is over. Ain’t nothin’ you can do right now, so don’t let it ruin your birthday. Everythin’s gonna be alright.” His words trail off when a broad thumb swipes across the underside of your bottom lip, his gaze caught in yours so tightly you’re half sure the jaws of life couldn’t draw you apart. He breaks out into a grin and heaves a shallow laugh. “Had a little drool there.”

The little laugh that bubbles up in you breaks the eye contact and Joel shuts off the truck, untucking you from his arm. You check the time for safe measures, there's still a few more minutes before the plane lands and she still has to make it out the gates.

“Joel?” He’s fiddling with his key chain, adjusting a few backwards keys. “Hmm?” He barely makes eye contact—is he embarrassed? From holding you while you slept? “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me—for my family while I’ve been gone. I can't think of a way to…repay you for everything.”

Joel glances over at you and something flashes in his brown eyes, something that looks like discomfort and shame. He takes a sharp breath in and squeezes his knuckles around the keys. “I didn’t do it all selflessly…please don’t take this wrong. I haven’t felt a sense of belonging in years. Me and Tommy have been drifting since I was twenty eight, working on one ranch after another. We’d stick around a town for six months and he’d get antsy, stir up trouble and we’d have to hit the road again.”

He brings his hand up to his mouth and chews on the corner of his thumb. He’s anxious, you can tell by the way his eyes flitter to you then away quickly. “I’ve covered his ass more times than I can count because I don’t know if I’ll be the same if I have to leave here. It feels fuckin—selfish, like I’m usin’ your folks. M’gettin’ old, my bones are tired and all I want is to…stop. Slow down for once in my life. I’ve never been more at peace than I am here, with your parents and the ranch. I was doin’ so good, gettin’ my mind right, hatin’ myself a little less and then—“ he trails off with a distant look in his eyes.

And then…what? What’s caused Joel to lose that sense of peace and stability? “What happened?” You sink back in the bench seat, run your fingers along the stitched pattern of color adorning the warn padding. “S’big snow storm came in…I was comin’ back from town because I took Tommy to pick up flowers. He’d been a real asshole to a sweet lady who didn’t deserve it. Was pissed off he was smokin’ in the truck, pissed he was jeopardizin’ our home again, when we see this little car stuck in the embankment, met this—real pretty girl, and she…” he sneaks a glance over at you, but he’s doing his best to find anywhere, anything else to look at. Cars passing by, the sun reflecting off the bright white paint on the cross walk. The older woman in-front of you, helping what looks like her daughter, load her luggage into the trunk.

“She got under my skin and I was flustered for the first time in a really long time. Kinda freaked me out—and then I left here there—‘cuz I was scared shitless and nothin’s ever been the same since. Sorta think she hates my guts half the time for it.”

There's this unsettling silence in the cab, Joel's nerves and his admission hanging in the air between you. He’s never ever been this vulnerable and honest with you before. You’ve talked to him more times than you can count now, a meaningless little conversation where you found everything you needed to change your mind about him. But he’s never opened himself up like he was right now, in the damn pick up line of the Jackson airport.

“Joel I…I already forgave you for that.” You forgave him for that when he gave you your necklace for Christmas. You forgave him when he carried a newborn calf half a mile through a snowstorm for you. You forgave him when you came down the stairs to him in that damn cowboy hat.

You forgave him when he came back for you and looked at you with those pretty brown eyes.

“What?” He looks over at you and you hold onto the eye contact for as long as you possibly can. “I don’t hate you. Furthest thing from it actually—I do hate how much you avoid me. Like I’m going to bite your head off any second—“ he snorts, cracks a white smile at you and his eyes crinkle at the sides, making your stomach flutter, little blue butterflies soaring through your abdomen. “You do bite my head off—often.”

Okay—maybe he’s a little right, maybe you let it get too far a few times, spent too many afternoons angry at his distaste for you, when all you wanted was a taste of him. “Well, I’m sorry…for all the things I’ve said to you, the things I’ve called you. But I’m not upset about that anymore. I forgave you for that a long time ago. You’ve already made up for it a million times, Joel.”

He’s grinning at you like you just told him he won the fucking lottery, his nervous hands drumming a absent tune against the steering wheel. He’s looking at you like it’s the first time you’ve ever met him, his eyes shining with mirth and admiration. “Think…you could give this ol’ cowboy another shot?” That nervous little shake of his jaw, the tick in his voice and the hopefulness in his eyes is enough to break anyone, but you? You’re so lost on him you never want to find your way back. Throw away the maps, toss the keys somewhere you’ll never find them again—you never want to go anywhere else in the world. Another shot? You’d give him all of them.

“Pretend you’ve never met me before.”

He blinks, cocks an eyebrow and makes a face of confusion at you. “I’ve never met you?” You nod, turn your whole body to face him on the bench seat of his old beat up chevy. “Like it’s the first time we’ve met. I’m Hank's daughter and you’re picking me up from the airport to take me home for the first time in years. We’ve never met. Try again, shoot your shot, cowboy.”

You’d like to imagine that's how it went—your mom and dad were too busy to come get you and you decided to fly because you knew your little car wouldn’t make it. They send Joel, because he’s trustworthy and punctual. They know he’ll treat their daughter with respect, they trust that he’ll use his better judgment, because they know he’s a good man. You know that under that rough, hard exterior is an anxious man searching for belonging, a good man.

Joel takes a deep breath, lets his mind drift out the window before he turns it back to you with a charming smile, one you’ve never been on the receiving end of. It’s smoldering, flirtatious—everything you imagined Joel to be after all those years of pinning after a man you’ve never laid eyes on. A Joel you’ve never met and desperately need to get to know better. “Prodigy daughter finally returns,” his drawl is thick and his eyes rake over you once, twice, before settling on your own. “I’m Joel.”

You giggle—rightfully so, because this Joel? This Joel is all quick wit and chivalry. You fake introduce yourself back, your grin mirroring his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure is…all mine, darlin’.”

You could stare at him forever with that damn goofy smile on his face. “Anyone ever tell you—you look good in this?” You tell him, reaching up to flick the brim of his hat, but it stays firmly in place despite your efforts. He snorts and snaps up to catch your wrist, holding onto it tightly in his big hand. “S’funny, I was just thinkin’ about how good you’d look in my hat.” His thumb circles the inside of your wrist slowly,’ pushing down the fabric of your sleeve with the effort. Slowly, he draws your appendage closer, till his mouth hovers just above your skin. His eyes are like witnessing something tragic, so devastating you can't bring yourself to look away.

“In just—“ His eyes slip closed when his lips connect with the inside of your wrist. His lips are warm and so tender you fight down a soft whimper at the intoxicating sensation. When they open again, dangerous amber irises peer back at you like you’re their salvation. “-my cowboy hat.”

Oh—fuck. There’s an image you’ll never get out of your mind—your hands on his sweaty chest, the brim of his hat falling in front of your eyes while you try to keep it in place, despite the way you ride him—

“Joel—Jesus, you can’t just—“

He breaks out into a chest filled laugh, his eyes slip close and his head falls back. His whole body responds to the way he laughs, his legs kick up, his chest heaves and his belly bounces. He’s a menace, a damn trouble starter—he makes you see hearts around his head and a sparkle in his eyes you’re sure you’re imagining. He calms his laugh down with a few deep breaths, a grin still plastered on his handsome face. “What can I say? I’m really bad at first impressions.”

He is, but it doesn’t bother you like it used to. Joel isn’t and never will be the perfect man you’d envisioned. He’ll never be the Joel you’d made up in your head for so long, because that Joel was made solely for you, from your interpretation of a man who’s perfect for you in every way. But that Joel and the one in front of you are two vastly different people—this Joel is gruff at times, opinionated and flawed. He wasn’t made perfect for you, but you find that the things that make him the least like the Joel in your mind—are the things that you like most about him. He’s gruff, but he’s punctual and takes no shit. He’s opinionated, but he’s wise about life, he’s earned the right to voice his beliefs. He’s flawed—he has crows feet by his kind eyes, graying curls and weathered hands—but it’s his flaws that entice you to learn more about him. They make him real in front of you instead of a made up, faceless man in your dreams.

Your phone chimes in your pocket and it sucks you from the void in the cab of this old truck, away from Joel's charming smile and his burning hand on your wrist. He pulls away and the moment dissipates into dust on the dashboard.

Melly: I just got my bag, headed out now!

“Be right back,” you slip out the door with a firm shut and try your hardest not to glance back at the man in the cab of that blue and white truck.

Finding Melly is easy, she sticks out like a sore thumb with her blonde hair and too-blessed chest. What did she do in a past life for tits like that, anyways?

She comes out the double doors and jogs to you with a grin your wearing on your own face. “Oh my gosh!” She squeals, finally getting close enough to throw your arms around each other. It’s been months since you’ve seen each other after spending everyday together for the last two years. You tumble around together in your hug for a few minutes before she pulls back to look you over, in a pair of flared jeans and boots. “Oh man, the country got you.” She jokes, faking a deflated sigh. “Would you fuck off?” She laughs menacingly, slinging her bag over her shoulder for more security. “Let me guess, you’re still trying to drive that cowboy crazy, right?”

With a deep eye roll, you finally look back at the truck. He’s looking right back at you, an easy smile on his lips when your eyes connect. You look back to your best friend and make a face. “He uhm…he actually drove me…to come get you. He’s in the truck, please be nice to him, okay?” She sneers and you know she means trouble when you help her with her things on her way to the truck.

“Please don’t fucking embarrass me, I swear dude—“ Mel gives you a little shove and huffs a laugh when you put her suitcase in the bed of the pickup. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your shot with the old dude.” She looks around you, eyeing him from outside of the truck without his knowledge. “Holy shit, dude he’s hot. He’s like, stupid hot.”

You look over at him too and like he can feel your eyes on him, he looks over his shoulder, smiles warmly and you know it—

Know you’re fucked.

“Not a word.” Mel throws her hands up innocently and follows your lead when you open the door of the truck and climb in the middle, sliding in right beside Joel, reclaiming the space you’d taken up on your way here.

The whole drive back to the ranch, your body is on fire along the parts that connect to Joel, pressed so close you’re afraid you might melt into him.

Two days pass in a blur.

You spend a lot of time with Mel, catching up on how she's been doing since graduating, how she likes work—she’s a wildlife biologist in Colorado, who’s still learning the ropes of the job but she’s never been more excited to be a part of something. You don’t tell her about the ranch for a good reason, but she still asks and doesn’t say anything if she notices the look on your face when you lie to her.

We’ll get through it

You love spending time with her, but you don’t see a lot of Joel besides meals. He’s pleasant and soft, smiling at you like he’s never worn a frown on that handsome face. He sits too close at dinner, draws your gaze in far too many times for it to be an accident. It’s not anymore but it’s still so damn hard to make yourself believe that this isn’t just a fleeting moment—temptation breathing life into you for the first time in years, teasing you with possibilities.

He makes you burn but he doesn’t push further, doesn’t chase that desire down its narrowing path. It’s so close—you’re so close to finally making him yours.

When your birthday rolls around, he’s nowhere to be seen at breakfast. When you head out to the stables, the horses have already been fed and there's no trace of the man who plagues your every waking moment. The truck is gone and the tire-tracks in the driveway look old, like he’s been gone for hours. It’s not that he’s required to see you on your birthday, but you thought things were going to change. You thought that re-meeting him in the truck at the airport would restart everything, he’d realize you want him around more than the ranch hand who got under your skin and made you desperate for his attention. It feels naive, to watch out the window for his truck for most of the morning, pining after that faded powder blue and rust.

“This is depressing to watch from the outside, you know that right?” Comes Mel’s voice from the other side of your room when you check the window for the first time in the last half hour. She's painting her nails on the chair in your room while you peer through the blinds like he might appear out of thin air without you hearing the rumble of his old chevy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You do your best to defend yourself, stepping away and crossing your arms as you trudge to your bed.

“Don’t play dumb with me, I know you. You’re pacing your room wondering when you’ll see him. You know everyone can see the way you guys look at each other right? When are you guys going to like…kick it up a notch, get in his pants?”

You toss yourself on the fluffy sheets and close your eyes tight, letting your mind wander for a moment. “I don’t know…” what are you going to do, if you cant even see him long enough to get him alone? Tonight is the dance and you were hoping he’d be there, maybe he’d ask you for a dance. You’ve never told a boy in your hometown yes to a dance at this thing, but you’d change that for Joel. If he asked, you’d let him spin you around all night long.

Only problem is, he can’t do that if he’s still avoiding you like you're an illness he can’t afford to catch. “He’s so confusing. One second he acts like…he wants me, the next he’s hiding from me, probably—ugh, I just wish I could get him out of my head if he wants nothing to do with me!”

The room is silent, still for all of five glorious seconds before Mel breaks it. “Does he still run away to jerk off?” You snap your eyes over to her with a sharp glare. “Yes! And he drives me up the fucking wall, dude! All I want is to get my hands on that delicious man and he runs away every time. How am I ever supposed to accomplish anything if I can't even get him alone for five minutes. And every time I do, something happens and ruins it all.”

You can't seem to get a second with him no matter how hard you try. The last two days, he hasn’t been around aside from his work in the morning, a few meals he makes it to in between. If you’re being honest, it's painful to think about the way he’d smiled at you a few days ago and the way he doesn’t have the time of day now.

“If he shows up at that dance tonight, I’m making sure you get your second alone. Now come on, let me help you pick out your dress. He won't know what he’s missing out on.”

By the time you’re headed out the door for town, Joel is still nowhere in sight. You thought you’d heard his truck for a moment earlier, but when you’d peered out the window a few minutes later, there was no blue chevy in the driveway. No cowboy waiting out front for you.

You trudged to the car in your black dress, two slits up the sides where your thighs peak out and a back so low your half afraid your ass is going to fall out of the damn thing. You do your best to hold it up when you walk through the dirt, a pair of knee high red cowgirl boots are the only thing saving you from the mud right now.

Melly isn’t far behind, but she's not dressed in anything nearly as revealing as you. She’s making friends with Tommy who surprisingly hasn’t tried to flirt yet and claims to have no idea where his older brother has disappeared to. He’s endearing, but you know he’s playing for both sides here, hiding something for his brother.

On the drive into town, your parents take your dads truck, leaving you, Mel and Tommy in your car. When you get about half way, you finally break and ask if Tommy has seen Joel, if he knows if he’s coming. Tommy shrugs in the rearview mirror with a smile.

“I’m sure we’ll see ‘em.” Is the only answer you get.

It doesn’t happen for hours.

Hours of forcing a smile through mind numbing conversation with people you haven’t seen in years. The same old how have you been in the big city? and you tell them it was hard work and commitment. They ask no plans for the future? like you’re doomed without a ring on your hand at your age. You keep your head up through every comment, back handed compliment and pick up line that passes you by for a whole fucking hour on the dance floor alone.

“I think I want to go home soon. I’m having the worst fucking time, my feet are killing me and I think my eyelash is falling off.” Your whining and limping, faking distress and discomfort for any shot to get the fuck out of here, go home and maybe you can chance a run in with Joel.

Maybe he’s coming in from the north pasture where he’s probably been hiding all day. He’d be covered in muck and sweat, dirt clinging to the creases in his face. He’d be tired and worn out, vulnerable to the way you’d take advantage of his weakened restraint. “You sure you don’t want to stay a few minutes longer?” Melly muses beside you sipping on a tall glass of tequila on ice, watching the small town’s people converse and dance, laugh and gather together under the low string lighting.

You take a long drag of the drink in your own hand, your third of the night that's finally starting to warm your insides. It’s not enough to ease the ache of wishing Joel would appear. You know he won't, there's only a few hours left and people are starting to get tipsy. “I think you might want to rethink that…the devil himself just walked in, twelve o’clock.”

You look up at her, in a pretty green dress with curly hair framing her face. She’s smirking over your shoulder at something—or someone behind you. You turn the rest of the way around and swear you’re in the middle of one of those movie scenes.

The ones where the love interest walks in and sexy rock plays while they walk in slow motion. With wind blowing this hair back even though they are inside. Joel fucking Miller was doing exactly that at this very minute, striding through the hall in his cowboy hat and a black button down, dark wash jeans and his boots. He looks like a wet dream standing there, looking a little bit lost and so damn handsome. Under his hat, you can see that his hair is slicked back and he looks clean like he’d gone home and gotten ready.

He’s here.

“Oh he looks…if you don’t ask him to dance, I will. He’s hot.” You wish you could explain to her that Joel is more than that, that he’s funny and endearing, that he’s honorable and loyal to a fault. He’s so many more things than just hot. You swivel around as he makes his way through the crowd, he’s bound to find you and you don’t want him to spot you gawking at him. “Do I look okay? Fuck he looks so good—is my hair alright?” You try to do a quick pat down but Melly grabs your hand with a smile. “You look fine. He’s not going to know what hit him, I promise—but he’s coming this way so whatever you do, chill out.”

She sets her drink on the tall table, the ones that adorn the outside of the dance floor for people who want to mingle. You take a long drink of yours and move to set it down when someone clears their throat behind you. The drink hits the table and you turn slowly, till you rotate around to face him completely. He’s even more devastating up close with pearl snap buttons on his shirt, his arms nearly bulging out of the damn thing. His facial hair looks shorter, his eyes shimmering with reflected light.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’, standin’ here all by herself on her birthday?” He grins at you and takes another step forward. “Guess I’m just waiting for the right cowboy to ask me for a dance.” You tease back, reaching out for him once he’s close enough for you to touch. You start at his stomach, soft under his dress shirt. When your hands make contact, a visible shiver runs through Joel.

There’s suddenly two more hands to join the party, one high up on your waist while the other curves around low on your hip, his digits digging into the top of your ass. “I’ll be real’ honest with you here, doll—askin’ you for a dance is the only reason I came tonight.” He smells good for once, usually you catch a hint of his shower under the smell of dirt and manure, a faintness of his once clean skin. Now, it’s all you can focus on—how he’d taste like his soap, smooth and clean, every part of him reachable by your watering mouth. “Well, Cowboy…go on.” Your hands slip up his chest and over his broad shoulders, like you’ve imagined yourself doing a thousand times. He’s responsive, lowers his shoulders so you fit along him perfectly.

“Would ya make this old man's day, let me have a dance?” His hand drops lower, along the side of your thigh until he can dig them into the curve under your ass. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to hoist you up, drag you into that vice-like grip you want to be at the mercy of every day of your life. “Can’t get me any closer, Joel.” You giggle, hiding your face against his neck. He smells like after shave and a little like whiskey. “I thought you were giving up drinking?” You nip at his jaw lightly, just to listen to the way he rumbles against you.

“I’m—tryin’ to keep my cool here, but you look fucking incredible tonight. Needed a little courage to walk up to you, s’all.” He leans back slightly, looking down at the way your dress squeezes your tits together, nearly pouring out of the black satin. “Fucking…gorgeous in this thing, you know that? You knew how sexy this little thing was, didn’t you?” He pulls at the slit that exposes your thighs, raking it up a little higher, until he can get a handful of bare skin. He’s not wrong—you’d put the dress on and thought about all the ways it would drive Joel crazy if he saw you in it.

“You better take me dancing before you take this off of me.” The dance around you has started to fade away. Melly took her cue to go and has started to make conversation elsewhere. “With pleasure, darlin’.”

Joel all but carries you to the middle of the dance floor before you notice his obvious nervous ticks, the shake of his hands and the way he’s fighting the urge to gnaw on his thumb. He’s anxious despite his obvious attempt at faking composure. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders again, he stammers. “Need to tell you somethin’.” His voice is a little shaky on the inhale when his hands find your waist again. “I went into town last week, there’s this dance studio on sixth street and I thought, maybe I could trade work for someone to…teach me how to use my damn feet.” For added flair, he reels away from you and spins you once before drawing you back into his chest as he moves. “So, I take it someone taught you?”

The song changes, something slow, romantic and sweet that couples join in around you, swaying together around the dance floor. “Lady said she’d been lookin’ for someone to replace the dance floor. Told her I just wanted to learn to dance, so I’d stand a chance against the other schmucks askin’ you.” He dances you around for a few more moments, pulling out all the stops—every new move he learned. Was that why he was gone so much, disappearing every time you turned around? He was replacing a damn floor and learning how to dance, all for you?

“Joel—“ you start, trying to grab ahold of him for long enough to make him still. “There's somethin’ else,” he dips you back and your insides flutter, looking up at him with those big brown hopeful eyes. He stands you up right again and the dancing slows to a stop, right there in the middle of the dance hall. You’re sure the towns eyes are on you, your mom and dad, friends from high school, older people you’ve been around your entire life. “She wouldn’t let me leave without payin’ me for it, said dancin’ lessons don’t cost that much after all.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a envelope, sealed tight with a number written on the front.

“Ranch needs it a whole hell of a lot more than I do. S’just two grand, but I’ve found a few other odd jobs, so there will be more comin’, but it’s a start—“ your hand clasps over his clutching the envelope. You push his hand down, stepping forward until you're nearly standing on his own feet. “Joel Miller…are you going to stand there all night running your mouth, or are you going to kiss me?” This endearing man, this big, expressive cowboy who can’t seem to get anything right in his own eyes, but everything right in yours.

He chuckles, the hand not holding the envelope finds the side of your face, sliding his thumb along the apple of your cheek. He’s not the one to make the first move after all—after all the leading him towards it, the teasing and the showmanship. It’s you that stands up high on your tiptoes and drags him the rest of the way in, until his mouth finds yours in the lull of the dance hall, surrounded by swaying bodies and sweet music.

He sucks in a breath through his nose and his mouth opens, slots your lips between his when he finally, fucking finally gives all the way in. It’s sweet, chaste while you stand there, smack dab in the middle of the floor. Joel stuffs the envelope back into his pocket and his other hand finds your body again, yanking until you're flushed against him, digging your hands into his shoulders when his tongue licks along the seam of your mouth, begging to be let into the slick heat. What was slow and steady, soon becomes frantic, hot and needy. Your fingers tug at the buttons of his shirt and someone shoots off a whistle from across the room, enough to have you reeling apart. Joel's mouth is red, his lips swollen and shiny from your spit.

“You want to get out of here?”

Yes. Fucking hell yes you wanted to, you’ve wanted to all damn night, but with Joel standing in front of you, a strained tent in his dark jeans, it’s all you can think about. Instead of a response, you grab him by his hand and all but drag him out the back doors towards the parking lot. It's quiet, dark—the dance isn’t even close to being over so there’s next to no one in the parking lot.

You never stood a chance, looking back on this moment right here. You never would have stood a chance, with Joel’s ragged breathing behind you when he closes the door tight behind him.

One look at his wild eyes and parted lips, you should have known how this night was going to end.

Joel was desperate. He needed you, needed to touch you every second of his day. He thought about you every second he spent awake and he dreamt of you all night long. When he’d heard about the dance, he wanted to kick himself for not learning sooner. Finding the dance studio was a fluke, learning to dance was a damn nightmare and the floor wasn’t much better, but he’d do it all again for another opportunity to press you up against the brick wall with your thighs pressed apart and his hips slotted between them while he all but devoured your mouth.

He’s ruthless, relentless as he drags your bottom lip between his teeth. You—you can't keep your sounds to yourself, hiking your legs up higher around his waist when he presses in closer. He can feel himself straining through his jeans, can feel the heat of your core against his painfully hard cock. He’d take you right fucking here if you let him. “Joel—Joel,” your hips roll down to meet his uncontrollable press forward. “I know—fuck, baby, I know.” His movements are hurried and frantic, like this might be the only shot he has to get his hands on you. His mouth finds your jaw and he bites down on your flesh, relishing in the salty taste of sweat from dancing, the tang of your perfume and the sweet taste of your skin. It’s your sharp whine that gets him in motion again, his stilled teeth still hanging on to your delicate jaw. “Touch me, please—please, touch me.”

In a scurry, he drops his hand between your bodies, pushing the fabric of your dress to the side so his fingertips can work under the elastic of your panties, past the soaked material to the place he’s always longed to touch, always wondered what it would feel like.

And you are fucking drenched under his exploring digits. He slips them through your lips, your slick already dripping down his knuckles when he finds your clit and presses the pad of his thumb to it, swirling it around in a swift motion. Your head falls back and your mouth hangs open, a silent scream on your parted lips.

“There it is, huh? S’what finally gets you quiet? Just needed me to touch your pussy, didn’t you?” He groans when your thighs tremble against him, trying to tighten up around his waist where he has you pinned to the cold wall. His thumb keeps its rhythm while his fingers dip lower, making him breathless at how easily your body draws those fingers in. You come apart like you were meant to do just that, your body rapidly chasing him towards the brink. If he hadn’t gotten himself off twice today, he’s sure he’d already have cum in his pants from just this. “Yes-Yes, Joel—make me cum, please!” Your voice is wrecked.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving in that pretty little dress—your tits are about to bust out of the damn thing. He picks up the pace, slams his fingers into your heat and curls them while his thumb makes quick work of your clit. It’s been so long since he touched a woman, but he’ll never forget the signs.

You are dangerously, furiously close in mere minutes alone. “That’s it, pretty girl—cum on these fingers, let me feel her squeeze me.” You cry out sharply and he nearly covers your mouth with his other hand, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he revels in the pulse of your pussy on his fingers, the way you grind down against him while your body grasps for release. It comes to you with a whole body shake, a ragged gasp of his name and his tongue on your jugular.

When he pulls his hand free, it’s with a wet sound that makes his gut tighten and his knees weak. He has to get you somewhere more secluded, away from the prying eyes of the town folks. “Wunna taste you,” he growls lowly, dragging you away from the building despite the way you stumble, the lightheadedness from cuming on his fingers.

His truck is parked in the back for lack of a better spot, due to his tardiness. He’ll thank his lucky stars for it later, if he can remind himself of it. Now, he slings the door open and nearly throws you down on the bench seat. “C’mere, girl.” He’s running out of will power and common sense, the only thing driving his mind right now is sheer want, carnal desire to get his mouth all over what he’s already ruined. He’s lucky for the part of his brain that slips off his hat and sets it on the dashboard. “Lemme see that fuckin’ pussy.”

His hands find the backs of your knees and he yanks you to the edge of the seat. At this angle, he can spread you out and kneel beside the truck, let you use the door jam to rest your foot on. When your eyes find him, he thinks you’re just as far gone as he is, blinded to the world unfolding around you, to rubber hitting asphalt nearby.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, babygirl. Only word you’ll know is my name when I’m finished with you.” He pushes your dress up with your hurried help, both of you desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as possible. The second he has your panties dangling between his finger tips, he pushes his head between your spread legs and buries himself under your dress.

The thing about Joel is, he’s always been too good at this. Half the time, it's the only reason women stick around. It must have been the only reason he got his ex wife to marry him.

He’s abandoned his shame and better judgment. He’s starved, famished for a taste of you. This man, this unhinged version of Joel eats pussy like he’s going to die without it. From the very second his mouth finds your center, he’s lost to your immodest cries, your mindless begging for him to keep going, never stop, never stop, Joel—please. He opens his mouth wide, slops his tongue through your folds like he’s trying to lick every drop from your sensitive skin. He pulls away for a breath and his eyes bounce up to meet yours, transfixed on his relentless attack. “Wunna split this little pussy open on me,” he says, muffled against your soft mound. He takes another long lap and moans at the heady taste of you on his greedy tongue.

“I’ve been practicing—I got, oh, fuck Joel, like that,” your head tips back and he pulls his mouth away completely. “You got what, baby, use your words.”

Your body clenches on nothing and his eyes track the movement with a low rumble. “Got a toy that’s as big as you so I could practice. So I'd be able to take you.”

You’d thought about this, about him. You’d thought about him while fucking yourself on a toy you’d bought to train yourself.

He doesn’t have the words to express the way it makes his chest tighten, so he presses his face between your thighs again and gets back to work, drawing out every secret you can no longer hold onto, how good he makes you feel, how hot and devastating his tongue is—how the sound of a car pulling up doesn’t even register until—

“Jackson Police department, step away from the vehicle!”

You should have known.

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majickth · 1 year

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Hermit's Hollow Masterpost

What is Hermit's Hollow?

Hermit's Hollow is a mysterious small town AU centered around the titular town of Hermit's Hollow. It's is heavily inspired by works such as Twin Peaks, Welcome to Nightvale, TAZ: Amnesty, Gravity Falls, and other similar media. The story, while not always in chronological order, is told through transcripts, recovered photographs, journal entries, and -- occasionally -- strange puzzles strewn about. Basically, there's weird things in the trees, the town may be almost be literally alive, and the weirdest thing at the local tourist trap is its owner.

What's the story?

Grian is a former journalist with a tarnished reputation. With nothing else left to lose, he accepts an invitation from his sister to start anew in the sleepy mountainside town of Hermit's Hollow. What appears to be a peaceful escape quickly reveals itself to be far more, however, as soon Grian is embroiled in the mystery of a missing scientist, a charming tourist trap owner, and a town that's far more than it seems. Now, armed with only a Polaroid camera and his intuition, he's determined to uncover the town's secrets -- for better or for worse.

Find the AU here: #hermits hollow au.

Official Playlist

Got some art/writing/anything you wanna share? @ me and be sure to tag it! I love seeing all the cool stuff people make :D

Art:

Grian + Pearl (Official Character Sheets)

Scar + Cub (Official Character Sheets)

Grian and Pearl Reunion (Comic)

Dead is Better - Ex and Cleo (Comic)

First Time at the the Diner

Strange Things Happen For No Reason

Take a Picture

Scar (Doodles)

Etho (Doodles)

Gem (Doodles)

Scarland [by @fadedandromeda]

Doc [by @rainoftime3]

Cleo [by @rainoftime3]

Welcome to Hermit's Hollow [by @suffer-my-beloved-mutuals]

Etho at the Pass N Gas (Comic) [by @domithekingoffools]

Fics:

Not Very Ideal, Is It? (Tumblr) [by @roxie-roo]

Day 2 (Tumblr) [by @roxie-roo]

Inbetween - Etho (Tumblr) [by @eagle-warri]

A Hollow Mystery (AO3) [by @myths-gay-and-random-bullshit]

Cosplay:

Grian [by @myst3ry-pl4nt]

Info:

General Character Overview

The Hollow is Weird

The Lunar Express

The Diner, The Facility, and The Past

Doc

Joe Hills

Impulse

Bdubs

Keralis

Xisuma/Ex

Mumbo

Etho

Tango

Zedaph

False

Wels

Hermit's Hollow Recap (KHHR)

NOTE: this masterpost is incomplete. If I am missing anything, lmk and I will add it as soon as I am able.

#hermits hollow au #hermits hollow au masterpost #hermits hollow masterpost #this is long overdue #but tadah!#will update this as time goes on

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whalyrae · 6 months

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DANCE WITH ME - CHAPTER 6

“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”

Summary : All your life, you thought you were a beta, a simple and boring beta. Until everything change. But now that you've presented yourself as an omega, how will you manage to live and hide it from your six friends and best friend, all alphas and all in the same pack? (a/n : I'm a shit for summary I'm so sorry-)

Genre : soulmate au (of course I'm a bitch for this), omegaverse, bangtan alphas au!, omega reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 3k

Warnings : the usual one I guess, like smut, angst, fluff (yeah its a warning for some people ) mention of depression, abusive parents (physically and morally), violence and blood, PTSD, scars, self harm,…

Tag list : @ghostlyworld @kawaiikpoplover268 @scuzmunkie @iamkookiesforyou @00ihatesnaku @stellauniverse @akemiixx01 @aceofcards05 @strxwbloody @seoul9711 @amara-mars @alex-walker-86 @yoongicatcat @xicanacorpse

A/N : Remember me ? Ah, I'm so soooo sorry for the wait, really. I'll not vent again, I already did it last weeks. I'm sorry about the quality of the chapter too… it's not really corrected, there are probably lots of spelling, conjugation, syntax mistakes… I think I've lost the little writing talent I had, really, it's so frustrating :') With this writer block it hasn't really helped either… I can't put the ideas I have in my head into words, and it's getting on my nerves too much…!! Hope you'll like it though even a little, I'll do my best for the next one ! ♥ Thank you so much for all the love and attention you give to this story, you can't imagine how much it means for me !! ♥

Also I made a playlist for the story ! If you have any songs who made you think about the story, you can share it to me and I'll add it on the playlist !

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad | Spotify playlist

Chapter 5 // Chapter 7

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

The room was silent after Jungkook's explanation. He and Yoongi had not waited to go to the oldest of the two's apartments where their partners were. Fortunately, since it was so late in the day, they were all there, and reunited in the same place.

Jungkook shared what he heard during your conversation with Wooyoung and Yeosang. When you said you were an omega.

Jimin was the first to react. Of course, he did.

“I can’t believe it…!” he exclaimed after a few seconds, “She’s my best friend… we’ve known each other since high school! If she were an omega, she would've told me! She can't have lied to me…”

Sitting between Hoseok and Taehyung, he brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs with a pout. He accepted Hoseok's embrace, who placed a kiss on his head.

The other boys stayed silent. Some of them were quite surprised to learn this, but Namjoon, Yoongi and Taehyung weren't so surprised to hear it, something inside them knew it, they just couldn't explain it.

"But that'd explain a lot..." Jimin added with a sigh, " she's quite... different recently..."

He obviously noticed the change in your behavior towards him recently. You were more distant and less tactile, and you tended to isolate yourself more in your room, whereas before, you spent all your free time with them, in one of their apartments.

At first, he thought that the classes and the dancing were exhausting you physically and mentally, like him. And knowing you, you tended to isolate yourself when you weren't feeling well. But it had never lasted as long as it did. He would never have thought that the reason behind it was... that you were an omega.

"We've all noticed it, I think," Jin replied, crossing his arms and looking thoughtful.

"But if she really is an omega," continued Jungkook, "why did she hide it from us? Would she be... afraid of us or something?"

The younger’s question left the room in silence. Everyone had heard about your misadventures with alphas, the behavior of your parents, and your brothers and sisters who were themselves alphas. And even though Jimin had always been the exception to the rule in your life, and now the other boys, you still had a certain reserve towards alphas. And that was as a beta. So, if you were an omega...

“It's not as if it matters anyway,” Namjoon affirmed, “whether she's a beta, an omega, or even an alpha, she's with us, she's part of the pack. But it's true that I'm wondering why she's hiding it from us.”

"Everyone has their wounds, scars, we all do, and we know that our little Y/N has some deep ones that haven't fully healed yet..." Hoseok spoke in a soft, understanding voice, stroking Jimin's hair in a protective, reassuring way.

"It takes time to gain someone's trust, even more so when someone has suffered mistreatment, abandonment, or physical and psychological violence." added Namjoon, crossing his arms.

Namjoon was right, and everyone agreed with him. For them, naturally, it didn't matter whether you were an alpha, a beta, or an omega. You were who you were, whatever your nature.

Everyone also knew what you'd been through with your parents, how they treated you, how they had treated you in the past.

None of them had ever said or done anything inappropriate to you, as they would to any of them.

This was the first time in your life since Jimin that you'd been treated like a real human being with respect and consideration, with no alpha, omega or beta stuffs behind it. You were simply Y/N. That was why you'd been able to open to them, to relax and feel at ease in their presence, but there was still a way to go, they were aware about that.

“It’s easy, we can just go and ask her." Yoongi stood up, ready to leave the apartment, "there's no point in speculating and making yourself feel bad," he continued, giving Jimin a gentle look, "I'm sure she'll be able to help us clear up this issue. She's the best person to tell us about it. "

Yoongi was the most impatient of all. But inside of him, he didn't want to admit that you had hidden something from them. Something that in one way didn't matter, but in another way did, more than they or even you realized.

“Wait hyung!” Jimin grabbed his arms to stop him. “Maybe it’s… something deeper than just a little secret she hides from us… If we go and find her now, she might panic, and things could go badly.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes but didn’t argue with him.

“I don't want to risk losing her... I couldn't bear that.”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair as he thought about how he'd felt when he'd seen you with San earlier in the day. Even though the interaction between you had been completely innocent, he had imagined you leaving him and his companions to go with him, Wooyoung, and their pack. This simple thought had given him a painful sensation in his lower abdomen that made him wince.

He knew you weren't interested in San, or Wooyoung, or anyone else for either (or so he thought). But despite everything, he still had this fear deep inside of him, of losing the people he loved.

"If you'd told her how you felt about her from the start you wouldn't be in this situation."

Jimin turned his head towards Taehyung, surprised and shocked by his words.

"Taehyung!"

"I'm totally right, Jin hyung! He already knows! We've already talked about it several times."

Jimin felt six pairs of eyes on him and shrugged. Yes, it was true that Jimin had confided in Taehyung several times about you. About his feelings for you that he'd kept deep inside him since high school, about his desire for you that only grew stronger with each passing day. More than once, Taehyung had tried to get Jimin to tell you how he felt, but without succeeding in convincing him.

To be honest, it wasn't really a secret that Jimin loved you and that you loved Jimin in return.

At least, it was obvious to everyone except both of you.

“Namjoon, Yoongi, and I were best friends too…” Jin giggled, “And here we are now.”

Namjoon chuckled and nodded. They had already talked about how they had become more than friends. A drunken evening together had been enough to loosen their tongues and open their hearts.

“We need to find a good way to figure out all of this,” concluded Hoseok, “and we should tell her, too. Everything.”

They all glanced at Hoseok. Some of them were tense, especially Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook. But Taehyung, Yoongi, and Namjoon agreed with him.

“I don't know how you've done it, and I don't know how you've kept going all this time, Jimin,” Yoongi let out, stretching.

“Yeah, she's.... fuck I can't even describe it,” Namjoon muttered as he remembered what had happened between you and Yoongi a few weeks ago. In fact, it was that episode that had a triggering effect on him, on how he really felt about you. He also remembered noticing your change at that time, and that he would eventually get the answers to his questions.

Now he had them.

As for Yoongi, he didn't need all that to know that he felt an irrepressible attraction to you, the same as he felt for each of his companions.

They were all attracted to you. It wasn't the first time they'd talked about it, discussed a potential way to confess everything to you.

But how could they tell their roommate and beta friend that her seven alphas’ friends, one of whom had been her best friend since high school, all felt an attraction to her?

And what if her feelings weren’t mutuals to all of them?

“Listen…” Jimin began after few seconds, coming to his senses and straightening up, "I'll talk to her, let me talk to her first... but I need time to think about how to broach the subject, and with evaluations coming up..."

"Certainly Jimin, naturally." Namjoon replied in a gentle voice, moving closer to him and placing a kiss on his forehead, "whatever happens, you won't lose her. No one will lose anyone, I promise."

“But what do we do until then?” Asked Jungkook with a small pout.

“Well, I guess we had to wait, act normally, as we always have. We've been able to hold back all those months. Ah yes… years for you, Jimin.” Jin teased with a playful wink, ignoring the death gaze his boyfriend gave him, “we can hold back a little longer," he then affirmed with a nod, even if he was as unconvinced as his partners.

Their attraction to you was growing by the day. And the little encounter with Namjoon and Yoongi clearly showed that they were finding it harder and harder to contain themselves.

None of them wanted to lose you. And they would never, ever do or say anything to hurt you. They were all convinced that if you really were an omega, you had a good reason for keeping it from them until now.

°°°

You had no idea of the conversation going on upstairs, nor that Jungkook had heard a part of your call with Wooyoung and Yeosang. After hanging up with them, you left your room to go to the kitchen and get something to eat. Noticing that none of your Alpha friends were present in the apartment, you concluded that they had probably decided to spend the evening together. The idea pinched your heart somewhat. Of course, you couldn't blame them, they were together after all, you were just a friend to them (or so you thought). You didn't know why you felt this way. And you didn't like it. As if your life wasn't complicated enough as it was, with the sudden discovery that you were an omega that you didn't know how to handle or how to tell your best alpha friend without him thinking you'd been hiding it from him all these years. Losing him too... you didn't want to think about it. You didn't want to lose either of them.

One good news, however, was that there were currently no signs of potential heat. This gave you more time to think about how you would tell Jimin and the boys.

You didn't know when, or how they would show up, whether it would be like the first time, or not. But Wooyoung had reassured you that you'd feel the first symptoms coming on now that you were aware of your omega condition. With a sigh, you headed into the kitchen to prepare yourself something to eat. Tomorrow would be a busy day, as you and Wooyoung had planned to train for longer than usual, as the fateful date of the demonstration and therefore of the evaluation was next week, and you needed to keep up your strength.

You didn't have the energy or the mood to cook yourself an elaborate meal. Simple instant noodles would do. You were just going to add some meat and eggs to the preparation, nothing more.

It wasn't long afterwards, when you were waiting for the water to boil, leaning against the kitchen counter with your cell phone in hand, that you heard the front door open.

"Oh, you're back already?" you asked, noticing Jimin, Hoseok and Jungkook. "I thought you'd had a lovers' date or something."

Your tone had been sharper and colder than you'd expected. You felt your heart and stomach twist slightly. Your three friends who'd just returned didn't seem to notice though, and so much for the better.

"Not at all, with the evaluations coming up, we don't really have time for this sort of thing anymore!" replied Hoseok with a laugh, approaching her with his hands in his pockets, "what are you making? Instant noodles, really?"

Hoseok's tone seemed accusatory.

"Noona! You're a dancer! You need to eat better than that!" Jungkook exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes, chuckling and shaking your head.

"No time or energy to make me a real thing. Would you like some too? Or have you guys already eaten? Don't say no and then steal my food as you always do!"

You heard Jimin's laughter, quickly followed by Jungkook and Hoseok.

Then, suddenly, reality hit you. It hit you as if a boxer had just punched you in the face.

Your head turned towards them, there they were, simply doing the simplest thing in the world. Talking, laughing, joking. And yet, it was as if it were the most beautiful thing, the most melodious sound you'd ever heard.

Your eyes widened, you stopped breathing for a few seconds, and you just stayed still, staring at them. Your heart was racing fast, too fast.

Oh.

Thinking back, what you were feeling, at that very moment, why your heart was beating so fast when you were with one of them, when you were with Jimin, since high school. This desire to always be with one of them, this feeling of security, of well-being, of safety you felt in their presence. There were no doubts.

Wooyoung and Yeosang had explained it to you. At first, you hadn't really understood what he meant at the time (or you didn't want to understand it, you weren’t ready for that truth), but now everything seemed clear.

As if the fog in your heart and mind had finally cleared.

The attraction of an omega to an alpha, of an alpha to an omega, only worked if the feelings were there too.

It was simple, and logical. You felt a bit foolish.

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, drawing the attention of the three boys.

"Noona? Is everything all right?" Jimin asked, clearly worried.

You looked up at him and noticed with surprise that the water had probably been boiling for many minutes.

Jimin was standing not far from you, his beautiful brown eyes staring back at you. This simple eye contact between you had been enough to make your heart rate quicken again.

"Uh I... yeah, yeah everything's fine...!"

You turned to pick up the packets of instant noodles, noticing without much surprise that Jungkook had added two more.

Your intonation wasn't as confident as you'd hoped. You saw Jimin's gaze become more serious. He took a step towards you, making you take a step back.

You could feel his singular, distinctive scent invading you, as it had since the first day, you'd met in the high school dance club.

How could you not have noticed it before? How could you not have realized?

You were in love with your best friend.

You were in love with your best friend, and his companions, your friends.

Well, technically you'd realized it a few hours earlier when you called Wooyoung and Yeosang. But now, now that you were face to face with the people involved... now that you were confronted with the undeniable truth... things were different, totally different.

Your gestures were suddenly clumsier. You couldn't hide the fact that you were troubled for some reasons unknown to him.

To your relief, Hoseok and Jungkook were in the living room, seemingly focused on some program playing on the TV. But Jimin was still there, scanning you completely.

He was the one who'd known you best, for the longest time. He knew something was wrong, without really knowing exactly what.

How to tell him that in the space of a few weeks, you'd learned you were an omega, but on top of that, you'd just realized how you felt about him and your friends?

It was a lot to take in, to accept for someone who hadn't learned to express her feelings and emotions.

You had to calm down, not panic, not worry Jimin.

As for the last point, it was already a bit of a failure.

"Noona, please, talk to me..." he murmured, his hands resting delicately on your shoulders.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, resting your hands on his. They were so soft, you couldn't help but squeeze them, wanting to hold them longer.

You never wanted to let them go.

"I'm fine, just a little... stressed and tired, it'll get better after the evaluations, I promise."

Jimin didn't seem convinced, and you could read it on his face. You smiled at him and took him into your arms for a long hug, holding him tightly against you.

He seemed surprised at first, but eventually returned your embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist and his head resting against your shoulder.

You made a decision. In truth, you'd made up your mind after your call with Wooyoung and Yeosang, but now you were sure and certain you wanted to do it.

After your evaluations, in less than two weeks, you'd confess everything to the boys.

... well, maybe not about your feelings for them. Not just yet, and maybe you never will. Never could your feelings be returned.

But you owed them the truth that you were an omega. You had an unspeakable fear of reliving the rejection you experienced with your family, but lying to your best friend, to your friends was worse than anything.

As you felt his warmth, his scent takes possession of your being, your body had relaxed.

"I'll always be with you Y/n, no matter what," Jimin murmured, his embrace around you tightening, and you couldn't contain the shiver as his breath brushed up against your skin, "you and me against the whole world, remember?"

He lifted his head, and you stared at him a few seconds before letting out a laugh. You hadn't heard those words since high school.

"Hey lovebirds, you're cute and all huh, but we're starving!”

"We're not lovebirds!" Jimin and you exclaimed at the same time, causing Jungkook and Hoseok, the one who spoke, to burst into hilarity.

You stepped back from Jimin and turned your back to him while he bickered with his two partners, mostly to hide your face and your blushes from them. You took the packets of noodles, the pre-cut meat, and the eggs. You put everything in the boiling water pan, taking long, slow breaths, trying to calm the pounding of your heart.

Damn it. Those guys will really be the death of you.

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chimcess · 2 months

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Waterlog || pjm (3)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 12.2k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: toxic relationship (not reader and jimin), arguments, cheating (not reader and jimin), talks about previous child abuse, anxiety attack, strong language, crying, emotional abuse (not reader and jimin), talks of bad parental relationships, abandonment issues, some PTSD, prescription medication use, mentions of depression and mental health, lots of angst in this one, finally making some progress though, age insecurity, mutual pining, lots of side character development in this one, they really are so sweet together, jimin just being the nicest boy in the world, so much PDA, physical touch is his love language 👀👀👀, writing this is so comforting even when its angsty lol, i think that's it, let me know if I missed something A/N: Hello hello. Probably my favorite chapter to date. Bad news is that I think this series might be a little longer than originally intended. My inability to just get to the point has things moving a little slow, but I'm trying my best. We'll have to see, though! Hope you enjoy reading :)

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Time went by quickly. Wednesday and Friday morning, Jimin and I met up to train for a few hours and then got breakfast together. When he asked if I wanted to work out with him in the evenings, I agreed. In the beginning, I had given him pointers, but after the second week came to a close, we had started exercising in silence. We spotted one another, made small talk, and went to dinner on the nights he did not go home to be with his parents. We got along and I was happy my overwhelming attraction to him had slowly calmed down.

I was still aware of his presence, the way he smelled, and how often he smiled and laughed, but I had grown used to seeing him walking around in barely anything at all. Hoseok called me a cougar whenever we had time to chat while Andy kept telling me to talk with Jimin about how I felt, but I had gotten very good at deflecting. Things were better and I was taking my wins whenever I could get them. Even if those wins meant I went home sexually frustrated and aching for someone to make it better.

Jimin was packing up for the night and I was getting ready to head out. He had plans with a large group of his friends, so I would have to figure out dinner by myself this time. He invited me but I politely declined. I could vaguely recall how rude his friends from that restaurant had been, and that one girl's mean glare. I had no interest in repeating that.

Giselle waved at me on her way out which I returned with a smile. She was a very sweet, college girl and getting to know her was fun. Her brother moved out here six years ago and was the only reason she left Memphis. In-State tuition and a rent-free bedroom was all it took to convince her to spend some quality time with her big brother and his dog, Lucky.

She and Sam were the closest, but I would often see her eating lunch with Megan when he was with a client. Everyone was making bets on when they would eventually hook up, but I was convinced that had already happened and they were keeping it a secret from the nosy staff.

"See you tomorrow," Yoongi called out from across the room, seemingly appearing out of thin air.

He was out of eyesight before I could reply.

"Bye Yoon," Giselle sing-songed anyway, shoving her ear buds in and leaving before the door could close behind Yoongi. "Night guys!"

As the young woman said, Yoongi and Megan were the two most important people to befriend. Not just for massages either. The both of them were hilarious and kept the back fridge stocked with our favorite snacks. On the mornings I did not have time to eat breakfast, Megan stopped and got me a muffin and coffee from her favorite cafe. If I needed someone to help me out in the pool, Yoongi was always happy to offer himself for the job. It was challenging for me to focus on my swimming when Jimin was around, and I would often come in early to get a quick work out in before he got here.

“You okay getting home?” Jimin asked.

We had come together tonight, and he had offered to drive us in his truck. I had grown very fond of the green machine, which Jimin affectionately called Fiona, and I jumped at the chance to get in his passenger seat. We were usually riding around in my car since it was better on gas.

“Yeah, I’m riding with Sam.”

Sam and I had grown close as well. He was super funny and always down to hang out with me if I showed up by myself. On the odd Sunday I felt like getting out of the house, I found myself at the gym with Sam. I was currently attempting to teach him how to swim and always filled in for Yoongi on the weekends.

Jimin nodded, “Good. See you this weekend?”

I smiled, “Can’t miss your big party.”

Jimin’s 24th birthday was on the 13th and his family liked to go big. Eloise was clearing out an entire section in their restaurant for all of us, and I had found myself teamed up with Taehyung to help with the planning. Na-Yeon put everything in his hands since she was not feeling up to the task this year. I only agreed to help when I realized just how overboard the snowboarder would go if no one was there to reel him back in. So far, I had placed the responsibility of decorating, music, and organizing the gift table on my shoulders. James had pulled me aside and thanked me when he found out. Apparently, he was also worried about Taehyung’s enthusiasm.

“It should be fun,” He nodded. “I’m going to head out.”

“See you tomorrow,” We had finally started coming 5 days a week. "We're working on your turns. Butterflies, too. Be prepared.”

He groaned, “You’re torturing me, coach.”

I laughed, “Is the baby upset?”

“Very,” He winked. My mouth went dry. Sometimes I felt silly for getting nervous around him, especially when I knew he flirted with everyone. I was not special. “See you Saturday.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled as I stared at his retreating back. “See you.”

Jimin’s birthday passed quietly. We had a great time and ate well. Taehyung got drunk enough to suggest karaoke once we cleared out the place for the night, and he and Na-yeon had all of us cracking up. I finally met Jungkook’s girlfriend, a pretty girl who did not talk very much, and I could feel the tension between the two of them. Jimin said that was just how they were and to ignore it.

After Jungkook successfully shoved Jimin's face into his cake, we opened presents. The boys got him tons of workout clothes and gear, Eloise bought him a new blender, and his parents both chipped in to get the new video game he had been talking about picking up.

I gifted him a bottle of his favorite cologne after Na-Yeon mentioned he was out. Jo Malone was the most distracting thing in my life right now, its scent clinging to the passenger side of my car most days and driving me insane if Jimin stood too close. Still, it was something I did not think I could part with now. Jimin was happy with the present and hugged me after opening it. I was positive I had this stupid grin on my face for the rest of the night.

By Halloween we were in the gym every day, save Sunday and the occasional Saturday when Jimin needed some time to rest. We both kept our word, our conversation at the restaurant we went to with Jungkook and Taehyung sticking better than I thought it would. Overtime he got more confident when asking for a break and I was a professional at picking up on his body language. We were a good team, and I was confident he would be in great shape for the Olympics.

It was mid-November now and Taehyung had finally gotten around to getting us together for the sushi date in Detroit. I had just gotten out of the shower when Jimin messaged he was going to come along. His mom had a rough Sunday and could not go to their usual dance class, so he had stayed with her instead. He looked worn out when he walked inside the pool room Monday morning so instead of training, I just sent him home. We were meeting back up on Wednesday to get back to work, but it seemed Jungkook’s nagging finally convinced him to come out with the rest of us.

My relationships with his friends had also started to improve. Taehyung had added me to their group chat a few weeks back and I had tried to keep up with them as often as I could remember to. It was not difficult. They text so often I had to silence notifications for the chat, but I had to admit they were really funny. Jungkook especially.

I was happy to spend time with everyone and getting out of the house sounded nice. Violet and Calvin were great, and I did enjoy eating dinner with them sometimes, but I would be lying if I said they would be my first choice to spend time with.

I had grown close enough with Taehyung during the partying planning that his bubbly, over the top personality had become more endearing than overwhelming. We had gone to lunch a few times together, his boldness only increasing with each meet up, and he could hold me hostage for hours if I let him. Milo was typically my saving grace, and Taehyung would leave with a wet kiss to my cheek and promises of the same time next week.

Tae: Y/N should pick you up

Jimin: Why???

Kookie: Your truck is ass

I chuckled and sent off a text of my own before going to my dresser to find something warm to wear.

Me: I don’t mind driving

Me: Don’t hate on the truck. I like it.

My phone chimed a few times but I ignored it for now. I knew I wanted to wear a pair of dark, navy jeans. It was freezing outside so a long sleeve was a must, but I could get away with just two layers. My hands found a mustard-yellow turtleneck and I smiled. I could wear my brown boots with it. Happy with my outfit, I checked on the chat.

Jimin: U sure?

Tae: The truck is GREEN

Tae: Already a crime

Kookie: It can’t go over 60

Darcy: omg stop blowing my phone up

Darcy: just ride with her dude

Jimin: Y/N?

I rolled my eyes. I hated when he did that. Jimin had the habit of double and triple checking in with someone. It was sweet but it also drove me insane. There was nothing more I disliked than repeating myself, especially if I already agreed to something.

Me: I’ll pick you up in 30, k?

Jimin: Thanks

Darcy: Was that so hard?

I frowned. So, Darcy was in a bad mood then. Shouldn't take it out on Jimin, I thought. Even if she was having a bad day, something that seemed to be a reoccurring theme with her, it doesn't mean she can just talk to people like that. Fighting the urge to give into my annoyance and call her out, I tossed my phone on my bed and made myself finish getting ready.

Walking into the living room, I went on a hunt for the jacket I wanted to wear. It was the same color as my leather boots with sherpa trim. It would tie everything together and, I hoped, would keep Taehyung from complaining too much about the “offensive” color of my shirt. He had a hard time accepting anything in the yellow or green family. Finding it on the sofa, I nodded and left it be. I would grab it on my way out.

It took me more time to get my hair figured out than anything, but once I gave up and did the same thing that I did every day, it worked itself. After that, I put on a little bit of makeup since I figured it would not take me very long. This was a casual outing with friends and the dim lights of the sushi place would give me some grace if things were not perfect. A nice base, simple eye look, and a layer of mascara already had me looking more awake than I had in months. After applying a layer of lip gloss and a misting of setting spray, I was out of the door, jacket keeping me warm, and purse tucked under my arm.

I drove in silence, like I always did, and pulled onto the curb of Jimin’s house. Sending a text to the chat, I waited for him to come out. I was a few minutes later than I said I would be, but Jimin found a way to be late for everything, so I did not feel that bad about it. Taehyung and Milo were already on leaving Ann Arbor, and Jungkook and Darcy riding with them. They would only beat us there by fifteen minutes or so, but I hoped he would hurry up and come outside. Taehyung worked hard for those reservations.

My phone vibrated and I stared at the little device in my cup holder. It was weird how my anxiety fluctuated on a daily basis. Back home, I could talk on the phone and hold a conversation behind the wheel, but ever since I came to Michigan it felt like I had taken three massive steps back. Taking a few deep breaths, I told myself that I was safe. I was parked, completely stationary, and no one was around. No traffic meant no accidents. Sucking in a harsh breath, I picked it up.

Jimin: Be out in a sec

Jimin: Just making sure mom is okay

He had not left his mother’s house in days. I was worried about Na-Yeon, but I had to believe that Jimin would tell me if something was seriously wrong with her. I had truly started to feel connected with the woman. We joked over dinner and I found myself helping her out more and more each time I came by. It would devastate me if she passed away without me knowing how bad it had gotten.

Me: Take your time

He came out only two minutes later. Wearing a heavy, black puffy jacket and tight pants, Jimin leisurely walked over and got into the car. His cologne hit me as soon as the door opened, and I bit my lip, trying to hide the deep inhale I took. Jo fucking Malone.

He smiled at me but otherwise kept quiet as I drove. He knew I had a difficult time behind the wheel and tried his best to keep conversation light. While I normally appreciated the sentiment, I did not want to make him sit in silence for 45 minutes. Opening and closing my mouth a few times, I struggled to come up with a good conversation topic.

We often bounced from idea to idea, mostly sticking to swimming and music, and I always found our little talks to be very insightful. Movies and tv shows had been fun to bond over, a small generational gap introducing us to shit we had never heard of before. There were so many things I could bring up, things that Jimin would jump at the idea to talk about. Still, I could not find my voice.

“So,” I started, awkwardly, trying to push past the blockade of anxiety. “Is this place as good as Tae says or is he going off on one of his rants again?”

Jimin chuckled softly. “It’s pretty good, but it’s still just sushi. Taehyung finds a way to make everything sound extravagant.”

We shared a quiet laugh.

“It was nice of him to invite me,” My hands gripped the wheel tighter. We were starting to approach more populated areas. “He didn’t have to do that.”

Jimin snorted childishly, the sound relaxing me ever so slightly. If there was one thing I hated was driving at night. I was lucky the snow had stopped falling yesterday afternoon and the roads were clear, but a part of me wished I had asked Jimin to drive.

Traffic in Saline was lighter than any town back in Colorado, and driving around was a breeze in comparison. At home, you were lucky if there was only one accident a day, but more times than not I had been stuck on the interstate for hours because of multiple car crashes. Michigan felt less hectic; safer. Not safe enough to let my guard down, but safe enough to listen to Jimin when he spoke.

“Taehyung is just that kind of guy.”

I nodded; eyes glued to the road. I wanted to say something and keep our conversation flowing, but the more cars around us the more I tuned him out. My eyes flickered between my rearview mirror, side mirrors, and windshield rapidly as I drove. Once we were out of Saline and on I-94, I loosened my grip on the wheel. We would not hit much traffic until we were closer to Detroit.

Jimin stayed quiet and looked out the window. I wanted to thank him for being so understanding, but I knew he would not want me to. I kept my thoughts to myself and focused on the road. Jimin began to hum an unfamiliar tune.

My hands were shaking when we pulled up to the restaurant. Traffic had gotten pretty bad coming into the city, but we had picked a good day to come out. Jimin hummed and sang underneath his breath for most of the car ride, and we had a few small sporadic conversations when I felt the knots in my stomach loosen for a few brief moments.

"It's been forever since I've come here," Jimin said to himself, going to unbuckle his seat belt. "It looks pretty filled up."

Bash was a sushi place across from Wayne State University's football field and was one Taehyung’s favorite restaurants. He bragged about how delicious their food was for weeks before finally wearing me down with the promise of picking up the tab. He made reservations for their omakase, or “chef’s choice,” and promised I would get his obsession.

When I talked to Megan about it, she had said it was an expensive meal, so I was going to try and force myself to enjoy it regardless of my own personal feelings. Jimin seemed to like it here, and we usually enjoyed a lot of the same foods, so it made me feel a bit better about things.

I had to park down the street and spotted Taehyung’s Mazda a few cars away. Instead of getting out, I took a few moments to gather my composure. Jimin sat beside me patiently. He had grown used to my traffic anxiety. We had driven together so many times now, and he had gotten a taste of the worst of it a handful of times.

He had only asked about it the first time we rode to the gym together, completely frazzled and unsure of himself as I hyperventilated in the driver's seat. My hands trembled violently as my palms sweat profusely, and I let myself shed a few tears once we were parked. He reached out, placing a hand on my back, and quietly asked me what was bothering me.

“Red light,” I managed to wheeze out. They were doing some construction on the main road and things started piling up. I had gotten stuck in the intersection for just a few seconds, but it was long enough to send me into a blind panic. “Anxiety. Sorry. Need a minute.”

He helped me calm down, calming down to help me through my panic attack. We played a game of I-Spy, Jimin picking out the most obvious shit and saying the most random things to point out in order to make me laugh. When I felt a little better, he got out of the car to help me get out. After that he kept quiet about my obvious driving discomforts, but stuck close just in case I needed the support, and always offered to drive.

“Ready?” He asked when I grabbed my phone out of the cup holder.

“Yeah.”

We walked inside and the hostess made light conversation while she walked us to the back. Taehyung's laugh could be heard from the other side of the room, and his bright blue hair and vibrant eyeshadow stuck out like a sore thumb in this place. Milo was dressed in all black, his arm draped around his fiancé's shoulder, and a smile on his face. Jungkook was beside him scrolling through his phone, but Darcy was nowhere in sight. Glancing at Jimin, he seemed exasperated.

“Trouble in paradise,” He murmured, leaning down so I could hear him. I had to imagine their relationship was very exhausting and took its toll on their friend group. I knew how much it sucked being caught between Tilly and Hobi back in the day. “Here we fucking go.”

Taehyung jumped out of the booth when he caught sight of us, his fluffy, white cropped top riding up, revealing even more of his tanned skin. The snowboarder wrapped his arms around my waist and snuggled my hairline, showering me in compliments. Gold hoop earrings tapped my forehead, and his belly button ring was cold against my ribcage. He was happy to see me “dolled up” for once and forgave how ugly my shirt was since I looked “so cute.”

Milo gave me a slight wave, eyes never leaving Taehyung's bouncing body as he embraced Jimin, and Jungkook put his phone down to greet us. Darcy had gone to the bathroom and from the look on Milo’s face, Jimin’s was right about trouble in paradise. Whatever was going on, we were all about to fall witness. It made my stomach churn just thinking about it.

Our waitress brought a new pot of tea, asking us if we needed anything, before leaving with the promise of the first course coming out soon. Darcy almost slammed into the poor woman on her way back to our booth, her annoyed huff making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When she sat down beside her boyfriend her entire body was rigged and face pulled together tightly. She did not spare us a glance as she sulked.

Darcy was a very beautiful girl and it made sense why Jungkook liked her so much. Tanned skin, green eyes, and black hair, the girl had one of those bodies most women would pay thousands of dollars for. Like Taehyung had said, she was a pleasant enough person, and we did not along well enough to hold a conversation, but there was no hiding the fact that Darcy was not a nice girl. In fact, I would venture to say she was very, very mean.

I saw it firsthand at Jimin’s birthday party. I had a moment where I felt myself panicking. Overwhelmed with all of the noise and people, I excused myself and called Andy to get my head back on straight. The women's restroom was tucked away in a small hallway and allowed me the space to shed a few tears. I was just starting to calm down, Andy's words of encouragement getting back to some sort of baseline, while I rubbed cold water on my neck. That was when I heard Jungkook on the other side of the door.

He was angry and when I told Andy I needed to go, I had every intention of going out there to talk to him, but another voice beat me to it. Darcy had been in a bad mood since she walked through the front door, her shitty attitude bringing down the party every time she opened her mouth. At first, I just brushed it off as an off night, something I could feel empathy towards, but then she opened her mouth and stopped those thoughts in their tracks.

The two of them were serial cheaters, and Jimin had alluded to that being their main issue when I asked about her attitude problem earlier that night. Eloise was the person who gave me the whole story and was not afraid to voice her dislike for the older girl. This was different from Milo, a guy who she clashed with due to their night and day personalities. Darcy had actively picked on and made fun of her growing up, and bullied her older sister while they were in school together.

Darcy, according to Eloise, started the back-and-forth cheating when they were in college. Instead of going their separate ways, something I doubt anyone would have blamed Jungkook for doing, he chose to get even. After fucking one of her sorority sisters, Jungkook made his way through the entire house within the span of three months. In retaliation, Darcy slept with a couple of guys from the NHL, something she still did to this day.

On the night of the party, she was still fuming over catching him with another woman a few days prior. Trapped in the bathroom and too afraid to let them know I could hear them; I suffered through five minutes of a couple’s quarrel I had no business being in the middle of. It was an eye opener for sure and made me avoid getting too close to either of them.

Darcy was very mean and spiteful, her words meant to cut him deeply with little care about how it would make him feel in the long run. She even brought up screwing one of his rivals to get back at him, something she had done on numerous occasions, and went as far as to compare the two men in bed. It helped to explain why Jungkook hated Jackson Wang so much.

Jungkook, despite how much I enjoyed him as an individual, was just as awful. He spent most of the argument defending his bad behavior by bringing up her own and took no accountability for his actions. He could have sex with all of Michigan and it would be justified because she cheated on him first. It was all very juvenile, and I tried my best to avoid them for the rest of the night.

“Bet they can’t go ten minutes without fighting,” Jimin mumbled in my ear.

I fought back a smile, leaning into his side. Physical touch was the swimmer’s love language and I had slowly grown accustomed to small touches here and there. So, it did not catch me off guard when his arm came around my shoulders, resting just above my head, hand gently brushing against my neck. The voice in my head often wished he would do it more often.

“She won’t start something before the food gets here,” I reasoned, stealing a look at the couple. Jungkook seemed fine, but from the look on Darcy’s face that might change soon. “I’ll say twenty.”

“What are we bargaining for?”

I laughed awkwardly, “Whatever you want.”

Taking a second to think, Jimin eyed the couple across the table. Taehyung and Milo were obviously extremely aware of the couple's awkward tension and tactfully ignored them, instead giggling about some inside joke. They were a very sweet pair. My weariness about Milo had dissipated over the last few weeks, but I could understand why he and Eloise could not get along.

Lou herself had admitted to being a bit of a stuck-up teenager back in the day, and Milo was the typical small-town stoner. They constantly butt heads when they were in high school, and just drifted apart with age. Taehyung and Jimin's friendship were the only reason they were in the same circle anymore, and the two just never spoke to avoid pressing buttons.

“I want to do something together,” Jimin finally said, I smiled, trying to ignore the snarky comments Darcy was making. The arguing was starting, and I felt my neck growing hot. Did they have to do this in public? “Get dinner or something.”

“We do that all the time,” I countered, half-heartedly paying attention to him.

“Denny’s doesn’t count," He mumbled.

The waitress finally came back with a large tray of sushi in her hand. That seemed to break up the argument momentarily, but Darcy did not seem pleased to be interrupted. Stuffing a large piece of ahi sashimi in my mouth, I sparked up a conversation with Taehyung to keep myself from having another meltdown. Beside him, Milo sent me a grateful look.

The rest of the table was silent, waiting for the fight to resume. Taehyung kept smiling painfully, but I could see the panic bubbling in his eyes, and for once I saw a small crack in his otherwise well-crafted facade.

“I didn’t mean just getting food,” Jimin finally continued when we hit a lull, and it took me a few seconds to remember what he was talking about. “I meant… going out.”

I looked at him, eyebrow raised. His cheeks were puffed with scallops and I wished we were alone. This was not a conversation I wanted to have in front of the others, especially if he was insinuating what I thought he was. I did not want to jump to conclusions, but I was sure he was asking me out on a date. Even if it made me feel jittery thinking about it, I had a difficult time finding the voice to say yes. Saying no felt just as impossible, though, and I wished he would have picked a better time to bring this up. Whatever the hell this was.

“What are you asking me?” I whispered, taking another piece of fish off my plate, sneaking a look at Taehyung and Milo.

They were too wrapped up in one another to being listening in on us. I did not even bother checking in with the other two. I knew for a fact they did not care about anybody else but themselves.

“You know,” He replied.

Dating was not off the table, and I was more than happy to indulge myself, but I was worried about crossing this invisible line I had drawn. What would people say if they found out? A coach and her trainee, and even worse, the older woman and her much younger man. I could see the headlines now and it made my palms sticky. That would not be a good look for either one of us, and I did not want our personal relationship to affect Jimin’s career.

Putting my chopsticks down, I leaned away from him. “Can we talk about this later?”

He nodded, meeting my eyes, and I was relieved to see he was not upset. I had seen him angry a few times now, and he wore it on his sleeve with pride. Jimin was not afraid of his emotions, something I found extremely attractive, and it was nice that all I could see right now was understanding. Whatever happened he would hear me out, and I had to hope he would be understanding. I just had to be sure I did not fuck anything up.

Across the table the bickering had started again. Our waitress brought out the rest of our meal, sans desert, and seemed happy we were enjoying the food. She eyed Darcy wearily and left our table in a hurry. I felt horrible for the wait staff who had come to our table. They were all getting the nastiest looks from the dark haired beauty.

“Do we really have to do this now?” Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair roughly. His face was red and expression tight. “In front of my friends, dude? Are you serious?”

I cleared my throat, grabbed my tea and took a long sip before sinking into the booth and praying no one could see me. Jimin’s arm dropped, and he squeezed my shoulder in comfort. I let myself melt under his touch. It always felt nice when his hands were on me, his warmth burning hot like a furnace even in below freezing temperatures. Taehyung’s eyes were bulging out of his head now, his bottom lip trembling as he tried his best to keep the conversation between the four of us light. He had stopped trying to include the other two.

“You two seem close,” He gritted, fakeness coming from him that I had never encountered before. “Glad you were able to sort that out.”

I looked over at Jimin and saw his cheeks had gone pink. So, Taehyung knew something I didn’t. It would make sense for the childhood best friend to get the scoop before the chick he’s known for two months, I had definitely vented to my friends on more than one occasion, and my curiosity was peaked.

“I'm working on it,” Jimin replied, taking a big gulp of water. “Thanks, Tae," He breathed, rolling his eyes.

I stifled a laugh. He was so cute when he was embarrassed. I made a mental note to ask Tae to explain what he meant when we had a chance to get lunch. I had a feeling the snowboarder would be more than happy to divulge that little piece of information.

“Talking about me to your friends?” I teased, trying my best to ignore the ever-growing argument across from me. The butterflies in my stomach were a helpful distraction. “Good things, I hope.”

He cracked a smile, face and neck flushed. “The best things.”

Such a flirt.

I bit my lip and looked away. Eating was a nice way to interrupt the electricity that was enveloping us, and I gorged myself on octopus and tuna. Whatever the hell these dishes were, I had to admit the sushi here was the best I had ever had. I would never doubt a recommendation from Taehyung again.

The conversation started flowing easily after that. Jungkook and Darcy were at a stalemate and were relatively quiet on their side of the booth. With the atmosphere lightening, Milo felt good enough to start telling us his latest work stories. He was a firefighter along with all three of his brothers. His father was promoted to chief about five years ago but was coming up to his retirement. The only one of his siblings to avoid the fireman fate was his baby sister, but had still managed to find a job at the station.

"You guys must be close," I laughed in disbelief.

“It’s the family business,” He joked. "Rosie is our new EMT."

Taehyung spoke excitedly about his upcoming competitions and was really hopeful he would win enough to qualify for the Olympics this year. Milo and Jimin both reassured him multiple times while I tried my best to keep up with everything he was talking about. I had very little knowledge of snowboarding, so I was having to constantly interrupt and ask for clarification. No one seemed to mind, and eventually Jungkook joined in to talk about his upcoming hockey games.

The Red Wings were having a good year, and he was proud of his team for working as hard as they did. As a goalie, he did not do a lot of skating, but his job was one of the hardest on the team. From what I knew after watching a few games on tv with Jimin's family, Jungkook was one of the best goalies in the NHL who was highly sought after. He had been offered millions to transfer to the New York Rangers, but out of loyalty he turned them down.

“I’ll take you to a few matches if you want,” Jimin offered. “Kook can get us tickets whenever.”

I smiled, “That sounds like fun.”

“Milo and I go all of the time so we can sit together,” Taehyung interjected, his shoulders relaxed for the first time since we got here.

Darcy was quiet and stayed on her phone. Jungkook was pretending she was not here, and it helped keep the arguing from starting again. I was not sure how long the truce would last, but I hoped they could hold it together long enough for us to finish eating.

“So Y/N,” Milo mused, taking a piece of fish from Taehyung’s plate. “Have you ever thought about competing again?”

I laughed nervously, “For a time, maybe. My injuries make it hard for me to swim the way I used to so I decided to keep it as a hobby.”

It was not a complete lie, but I knew I might be able to get back into competitions if I put in the time and effort. I hated the thought of being back in the spotlight, cameras shoved in my face, only to lose and give them more to talk about. I was still recovering from the trauma they inflicted on me after the accident. My leg injuries just gave me the perfect excuse to keep my distance.

He nodded, eyebrows knitted, “I didn’t know you had medical leave. What happened?”

Jimin tensed up beside me.

“I was in a car accident,” I replied. Talking about what happened did not bother me as much as it used to, and Milo seemed genuinely interested in the answer. “I had to get a full knee replacement on my left side, and a full hip replacement. I should have lost my leg, but the doctor on staff recognized me and brought up my profession.”

Milo whistled, giving me a sympathetic look. “Leg? You could have died.”

“Well,” I breathed, finishing off my last piece of fish. “I pulled through though, so it wasn’t all bad.” I fiddled with my shirt, pretending to smooth it down as I played it cool. "Anyway, I have nerve damage in my leg that makes me get really horrible cramps and twitching if I overwork my muscles. It sucks but coaching is really fun, so I can't complain."

Blatantly lying wasn't something I did often, but I truly hated reliving the months of physical therapy. Unable to walk or talk, I was stuck in that hospital bed for weeks and then got sent home to watch my closest friends wait on me hand-and-foot. When I wasn’t in physical therapy, I was with my SLP. When I wasn’t with her then I was in bed, crying into my pillow, and wishing I had never woken up. It was an extremely dark time in my life, one filled with chronic pain and overwhelming depression, and talking about it made me emotional.

“Anyway,” Taehyung sent his fiancé a pointed look. “Kookie’s next home game is in two weeks.”

Happy to be out of the spotlight, I began to talk with Jimin about changing our schedule around so we could attend the game. Taehyung was excited to get me some Red Wing merchandise, and Jungkook quickly began to boast about his prowess on the ice. Darcy scoffed beside him and I felt the group tense up.

“You’re so cocky, Ian,” She taunted, eyes glued to her phone. “I heard Avalanche was doing really well this season.”

I knew from the group chat that the Red Wings and the Colorado Avalanche had a long-standing rivalry. It had started all the way back in the mid-90’s and reached its peak in 2002. While the intensity had dissipated over the years, it had recently spiked up again due to Jungkook and Jackson Wang’s ongoing feud. The only reason Darcy would bring that up would be to piss her boyfriend off.

“Hm,” Jungkook smirked, chuckling darkly. “Who told you that?”

I held my breath, already guessing where this was going. The tension from earlier was thicker than ever as we fell silent. Darcy put her phone on the table, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and looked Jungkook in the face as she replied.

“Jackson.”

It was dead silent for a few seconds. Then, without waiting for a response, Darcy kept digging the knife in and twisting. She called him ugly, said he sucked in bed, brought up all of the ways Jackson was better than he was, and went as far as to bring up his father's affair. Jungkook could not get a word in as her silky voice dropped lower and lower, words cutting deeper and deeper, and eyes growing brighter as she watched his expression fall. I learned something tonight. Darcy enjoyed hurting Jungkook.

"Why are you doing this, dude?" Jungkook's voice was thick with emotion. "You're acting like a fucking child. It's embarrassing."

“Holy shit,” Milo groaned as their voices got louder. “Are they being forreal right now?”

“Babe,” Taehyung scolded, the forced smile still plastered on his face. “Language.”

“You weren’t embarrassed when you fucked that girl” Darcy screamed and I felt my stomach twist uncomfortably. “Why should I feel bad about airing out my dirty laundry? Everyone here knows how much of a whore I am anyway, isn’t that right, Ian?”

“Keep your voice down,” Jungkook hissed, eyes glassy. “You’re causing a scene.”

Taehyung and Milo looked as mortified as I felt, both of them staring at Darcy in horror. The entire restaurant had gone silent. Eyes were glued to our table as they argued. She shouted about him getting his dick sucked in their bed, and Jungkook was just angry she was acting like this in public. It was Jimin’s birthday all over again only this time they knew people were watching and did not care. Taehyung’s smile was finally gone and replaced by trembling lips and fidgeting hands.

“Take that shit outside,” Jimin cut in, voice cold and hard. Darcy glared daggers in our direction. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”

Darcy opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by the waitress coming back and demanding our party leave. Taehyung began to apologize profusely while Darcy stormed out of the restaurant, bumping into numerous people roughly without looking back. Jungkook was hot on her heels, breathing heavily, and eyes glossed over with unshed tears. She shouted that Jackson was outside and for Jungkook to go fuck himself. Jungkook didn’t reply but I knew he was not expecting the other man to be here. I sure the fuck wasn't.

An arm wrapped around my shoulders, “Hey, calm down. Breathe.”

I had not realized I had been holding my breath. Turning my head, I was taken aback by how close Jimin was. Our noses brushed together, his breath hot against my cheek, and I jerked away, heart racing. The butterflies were swarming now, and a shiver went down my spine. His arm dropped and I immediately missed its warmth. Flustered, I scooted out of the booth and kept my head hung low. I was so embarrassed, and I could hear Taehyung’s voice starting to wobble as he handed over some cash to the waitress for the trouble. No one was going home happy tonight.

“I’m so fucking pissed off,” Jimin grunted, keeping in step with me. Milo was attempting to get a now hysterical Taehyung calmed as they followed behind us. “I don’t know why Tae invites the two of them anywhere.”

I shook my head, “It’s not his fault. She needs to get some self-control, though. That was so rude and uncalled for, and for what?"

“They both owe him a fucking apology,” He sighed harshly.

The guests of honor were already in a very heated screaming match when we finally made it outside. Whatever had been brewing inside had clearly reached its peak, and neither one of them was willing to back down. Jimin’s arm was back around my shoulders as he tried his best to shelter me from the strong winds that were kicking up. Looking at Darcy and Jungkook all I could see were my parents and it caused me great discomfort. Maybe I should try to call my dad again and make sure he was alright? He rarely answered but at least it would cut some of the edge off of my anxiety.

“Why are you acting like this?” Jungkook shouted, pulling at his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?”

“You!” Darcy shrieked. “You! You! YOU! You’re the problem. This is all your fault!”

Jungkook called her a crazy bitch and Darcy slapped him across the face before stomping off. A sleek red convertible was waiting for her on the curb, a well-groomed man behind the steering wheel. He smiled and waved at Jungkook before speeding off, Darcy already attaching her lips to his neck and not sparing any of us a second glance.

“What the fuck!” Taehyung shouted, sobbing and clinging to Milo.

I was surprised he was able to hold himself back for that long. He seemed hellbent on strangling Jungkook as soon as he was able. I stepped to the side watching a man I had never seen upset shove Jungkook backwards. Any resemblance of a smile was gone now, replaced with a snot-nosed, red eyed man with bared teeth. Jungkook stumbled, barely keeping his footing before shoving the other man back. Milo was quick to defend his fiancé, pushing Jungkook so hard he stumbled, fell on his ass, and cried out in pain.

Jimin’s arm gripped me tighter as he stared at the scene unfold in silence. His clenched jaw, however, told me how angry he was. I briefly wondered what he would be doing if he was not so focused on keeping me warm.

“That was so fucked up,” Taehyung cried, wiping his face roughly. “I told you both to keep that shit at home or don’t come!”

“She started it! It’s not my fault-”

“Dude,” Milo shook his head, wrapping his arms around Taehyung. “It doesn’t fucking matter. That’s your girl.”

As the three of them argued, I tried to decipher the look on Jimin’s face. He was angry, that was very apparent, and I felt my own anger finally start to rise. He had been dealing with so much shit and on his first night out in ages this happens? It was unfair and ridiculous, my frustration over the entire situation making me want to go over and push Jungkook around, too. However, I knew that was not the way to handle this. Truth was, he was not the only person to blame for how badly the night had ended. Darcy was the main instigator.

“Are you okay?” I asked Jimin, stepping away from his tight embrace. His arm was still around my shoulders with no sign of moving. “I’m sorry everything got so shitty.”

He nodded, face softening when he looked at me. “Just worried about Taehyung. He was really excited about tonight.”

The yelling was finally starting to calm down and I was happy that they were talking things out. I did not think I could handle the screaming for any longer. I had been a bundle of nerves since I left my house, and my fingers trembled at my sides. I could hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head, though I was positive it was distorted after so many years. Sometimes when her and dad fought, she would find me hiding in my closet and pull me out, hands leaving my skin tender from the harsh grip she had on my arms, before telling me to clean up the broken dishes from off the floor.

“Come here you little shit!”

She hated me; hated being a mother. I could remember how much I wished she would hold me like the other kids' moms held them but was too afraid to ask. One time I drew a picture of her at school and she never even looked at it. Instead, she smoked her cigarettes at the dinner table and watched Law and Order. If I really thought about it, she threw the drawing away. It was too dirty. Just like I was too dirty.

Mom had germaphobia and considered me one of the dirtiest things she had ever seen. I was not allowed in their bedroom because of it. Dad went along with it like he did everything else. When he wasn’t drinking, he was sleeping or in the garage. I hoped he was doing okay. Danielle seemed to be just as controlling as mom had been.

“Where’d you go?”

I startled, whipping around to find Jimin staring at me. His expression was gentle and calm, and I was suddenly aware of the harsh chill nipping at my wet cheeks. I had not noticed I was starting to cry. Strange. It had been a long time since those memories had been brought up.

“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing my arm. “You looked lost.”

I nodded, quickly reaching up to pat the tears away. It was a good thing my mascara was smudge proof or else I might look even more pathetic. I am 31 now and it felt stupid to cry over things so far in the past. Things I had not had to deal with in well over 20 years. Dr.Wolfe would disagree with me, but she wasn't here.

“Yeah,” I nodded, voice thick. “Just zoned out for a second. Eyes must have dried out.”

It was a bad lie, but a lie he accepted. Squeezing my arm one last time, he finally moved away to give me a bit of breathing room. That was another thing that I always appreciated about the guy. He never overstayed his welcome, even if he wanted to. Taking a second to compose myself, I mindlessly fixed my hair and adjusted my clothes. Nervous habit.

“I think everyone’s heading home for the night,” Jimin said, nodding his head toward the other three men. “They seem cool. You ready to leave?”

I shrugged, “If you are.”

He nodded and walked over to the ground. I gave myself another moment to gather my thoughts. The worst of it was over and I doubted those memories would make themselves known again. With the screaming over it would not take long for my head to get itself straightened out. I might ask Jimin to drive us back, though. I was exhausted, and frankly, I did not think we would be safe if I was behind the wheel. Nothing worse than an anxious driver.

Jungkook was ashamed of their behavior tonight, and when I joined the others, he was quick to throw a million apologies in my direction. I accepted them all easily but knew it would take me a few days to fully forgive him. Tonight was a lot. Hopefully I could speak with Taehyung privately and ask him not to invite the couple out with us. If I never had to see Darcy again it would make my stay that much easier.

“I think we’re going to go home,” Milo said once Jungkook walked away. He was planning on calling an Uber so Tae could have a bit of space. “My little flower is burned out for the night.”

I smiled sadly, “Are you sure? We can always try something else.”

Taehyung’s head snapped in my direction and I wanted to scoop him up in my arms. His face was puffy from crying and eyes still misty. He was quick to nod his head and reached out to take hold of my hands.

“You still want to hang out with me?” He whimpered.

I had only said it to cheer him up not thinking that he would actually go for the idea. I had never seen him so distraught before and Milo seemed convinced that he was over having fun. Stealing a look at the blonde, he gave me a grateful smile but otherwise kept a watchful eye on Taehyung.

“Of course I do,” I finally replied, squeezing his large hands. “Tonight wasn’t your fault.”

His lower lip started to wobble again and next thing I knew I was in a very tight, warm hug. Taehyung cried into the crook of my neck. He was worried I would not like him anymore because of the fight. I awkwardly hugged him back, hoping my calm reassurances would soothe him. We really needed to get from outside the front of this restaurant before they called the cops.

“It’s alright,” I said, trying to gently remove his arms from my waist. “We’re still friends, I promise.”

After another minute of crying, Taehyung was back in Milo’s arms. His face was red, and his nose was running, but the sobs had stopped. Jimin placed a hand on my lower back and started to bounce a few ideas off of Milo. It was late, but from the sound of things, our get together was not over. I could not say for certain if this was a good thing or not, I did need to have that talk with Jimin. If we were out too late there was no way for me to promise I would not pass out in the car.

“Uh,” Jimin thought for a second. “If we’re still hungry there’s Pie Sci and Woodbridge is right down the street. There's also that park a few blocks away."

I shrugged, “Whatever’s the best?” Looking at Taehyung, I made sure that he was feeling well enough to hang out. “I won’t be upset if you want to go home. It was a rough night for all of us.”

He sniffled and nodded. “I’m just really tired.”

Jimin and I said our goodbyes and I promised the blue haired boy I would call him in the morning to set up another meet up. He called it a group date, something neither Jimin nor I disagreed with, but it did make me feel queasy. Depending on how our conversation goes, we may never spend time together outside of training. I felt like I was going to vomit.

“Let me drive?” Jimin murmured as we parted ways with the couple.

I nodded, digging in my purse to find them. “Mind reader, I swear. Get out of my head, kid.”

He snickered, “Who says you weren’t in mine, granny”

The queasiness dissipated and I felt like I could breathe a little bit easier now. Being alone with Jimin had never felt this nerve wracking before, not even the first time we met, and it was hard to explain all of the thoughts and feelings going through my head. We were finally having the talk, but I had never imagined it going this way. Handing him the keys, I elbowed him in the ribs.

“Whoops,” I mocked. “You know me and my bad eyesight, kiddo.”

“Watch it,” He hissed, rubbing the spot. “Don’t want you breaking anything. You know you have frail bones.”

I laughed, “Don’t make me give you a knuckle sandwich, punk.”

Sliding into the passenger seat felt less daunting after the light hearted exchange. Still, my blood was pumping as Jimin clicked his seatbelt in place. I had no idea when the conversation would shift into murkier waters, but I needed to start thinking about what to say to him.

Denying my feelings would only make things worse, and I did not think the younger man would believe me. In fact, he would be offended that I thought he was dumb enough to get bamboozled in the first place. Lying did not seem like the right call anyway. My feelings were not something to feel ashamed about, but they were very frightening.

“When is later?”

I gasped, startled out of my thoughts. We had been driving for over ten minutes already. Time seemed to slip by when I was lost in my own head. Jimin apologized for scaring me but repeated the question once I reassured him that I was fine.

“Now,” I mumbled. “I guess later is now.”

Turning on the blinker, Jimin switched lanes smoothly. He was probably the best driver that I knew and always made sure to keep my little quirks in mind during our rides. He had even gotten used to leaving the radio off when I was around, something that I appreciated more than words could ever say. Recognizing that I was stalling, I cleared my throat and tried my best to get my jumbled thoughts across.

“As much as I would like to go on that date,” I started, voice weak, “I’m just a bit concerned with how that might affect our ability to work together.”

There we go, I thought to myself mentally patting myself on the back. That was not as hard as I thought it would be. Leaving out a few details would not hurt anybody, and it was the main cause of concern for me. My age was definitely up there, but I doubted Jimin would understand my perspective. To him I was just older, but to the rest of the world I was this cougar on the prowl for young men to help me relive my glory days. Even my own friends thought it was funny to make fun of the age gap.

“Is it only because of that?” Jimin pressed, his voice telling me that he was still reacting positively to whatever was coming out of my mouth. I was refusing to look at him, fearful that he would see through me. “Or is there something else bothering you?”

“W-w-well-” I stammered, “There is the media frenzy to think about. Sejin is already dealing with the press and your ‘out of character’ seclusion this season. Then there’s the age gap. I just-” I struggled to find the right words. Having let my insecurity slip out, I lost my flow and scrambled to get back on track. “Look, I haven’t done this whole dating thing in a really long time, and I don’t want that to get in the way of being a good coach. Ozzie put me in charge of you, and my reputation is on the line.”

I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Mouth dry and palms sweaty, I forced myself to look out of the window as I spoke. Anxiety had been something I dealt with for as long as I could remember, and it only got worse the older I got. My hands and fingers trembled in my lap as I tried to steady my breathing.

In all of the dreams I had about Jimin, and there had been quite a few at this point, this moment had never felt so real and raw. We were always in these picture perfect pieces of heaven, sunshine beaming down on us, and the words I desperately wanted to say fell from my lips with ease. It was simple and sweet, and yet profound and beautiful. I could wax poetics and put myself thoughts together so eloquently he had no choice but to say yes to me.

Reality was different. Here I was stumbling over my sentences and stuttering my way through words. Instead of taking his hand with mine, I was fidgeting with shaking fingers and desperately hoping he could not see just how uncomfortable I was. I knew he did. He always noticed. My heart was racing so fast I was afraid it would burst. Had he turned the heart up? It was boiling.

“I just want to know how you feel about me.”

“Hm?” I squeaked, unable to form any real words. My mouth was too dry.

“I’ve thought about all of the same shit,” Jimin continued, voice as smooth and calming as ever. “I don’t care about any of that. All I want to know is how you feel about me.”

“You know,” I replied, wheezing. Talking felt impossible. “You know.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Taking in a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut and began the mental countdown. My therapist taught me the technique years ago and I always found it to be helpful. I did this a few times until I felt calm enough to open my eyes.

“Are you alright?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded, finally feeling my heart rate slowing. “A little anxious.”

“Don’t be,” He placed a hand on my knee. “It’s just me.”

And he was right. It was just Jimin and I in my car, but that was also the reason I felt so suffocated. There was nowhere to run or hide in here, and if things went south I was stuck with him for half an hour. Trying not to let those pessimistic thoughts send me back into a panic, I began to mentally point out things in my car.

Air freshener. It's green. It smells like pine and lemons. I want a new scent. Jimin likes to buy this coconut and mango one that smells like candy. I will buy one like his. I love the smell.

I let out a heavy breath. Everything was fine. He was not upset. He just wanted to know how I felt about him. Nothing more nothing less. My heart was settling, and my fingers were no longer shaking.

“I like you,” I choked out, placing my hand over his. “But you already knew that.”

He gently laughed, flipping his hand up to intertwine our fingers.

“Yeah, you’re a terrible actress.”

I groaned, leaning my head against the window. As much as I tried kidding myself, there was absolutely no way he did not see the way I looked at him. I always knew when his flirting took on a more serious edge, like when he called me beautiful after seeing the scar on my leg for the first time, so it should not have been surprising that he picked up on a thing or two. Still, it did not make it any less embarrassing.

“How long have you known?” I asked, peeking at him through my lashes.

“I mean, I had a feeling when you first got to town, but I wasn’t completely sure until that first training day.”

He laughed at my embarrassed groan, holding my hand tighter. I knew I wasn't subtle enough. Poker face champion, my ass.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He cooed. “You’ve been my dream girl since I was, like, 15.”

“That's not helping the age gap thing,” I tittered as I played with his fingers. Then, because I could not help myself. “Dream girl, huh?”

Picking up on the teasing tone in my voice, Jimin chortled.

“Okay, big head. Calm down.”

“Big head?” I guffawed, pulling my hand out of his grasp. “Who are you calling big head, shortstop?”

“You, big head,” Taking back my hand, Jimin pinned it down and kept a tight grip. “No take backs.”

I always loved it when Jimin was in a good mood. He was so playful and full of energy, and all signs of those dark days were in the deepest parts of his mind. It was impossible to keep myself from playing along which only served to egg him on.

“You never said yes or no.”

“Yes or no to what?” I questioned.

Jimin started rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.

“To that date.”

Saying yes felt wrong, but saying no felt impossible. No matter what I said someone would be upset, and I had to decide who that would be: Jimin or America? I turned my own hand around this time and put my fingers through his. They fit together awkwardly, his hands just a bit too large, but I still found it perfect all the same.

“Do you have any ideas?”

His shiteating grin was contagious and a burst of butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. Hands clasped, Jimin started to list off all of the places we could go, but I was not fully listening. I had a date with this guy. I was going on a date with my trainee.

“What do you think?”

I blinked rapidly, hoping he could not tell that I had zoned out.

“You pick,” I breathed. “Surprise me.”

The rest of the drive back home was spent making small talk and discussing food preferences. Jimin was a dinner and a movie kind of guy, while I would rather do some sort of activity. What type of conversation could we have in a theater? Jimin seemed excited to plan out a fun night and I was just happy he was this into me. The feeling was most definitely mutual.

“Do you mind if I go to my house tonight? Mom needs some space and I know my dad is tired of having me breathing down their necks.”

I had yet to go over to his house. The days that we drove together were when he spent the evening with his parents. When Na-yeon and I talked about it, she was more upfront about her health situation than the men of the house. James spent most of his time taking care of his wife and their son enjoyed giving him a break every now and then. James would go on a fishing trip with his friends while Jimin stayed back to keep an eye on his mother.

“Is it closer to town?” I asked, nibbling on my lower lip.

I had yet to drive through downtown Ann Arbor. The Park house, and by proxy the Anderson’s, was a thirty minute drive from the bustling city. Nestled in the smaller town of Saline going towards Manchester, I had rarely had to leave the small town. This trip to Detroit was the farthest I had gone since arriving in Michigan, but I had a feeling the traffic in downtown Ann Arbor would be a bit much for me to drive through alone.

“Yeah,” I felt even more nervous by his nonchalant tone. “I used to live downtown, but I got tired of the noise. I bought my house in Eberwhite last summer, so there’s a little less foot traffic.”

“How’s the drive back to Saline?” Even I could hear the hesitation in my voice.

“Less than twenty,” Rubbing the back of my hand, his voice took on a sweeter tone. “We don’t have to. My truck’s at my parent’s place anyway.”

“Maybe some other time?” I forced myself to laugh, hoping to make the awkward tension leave. “Preferably when it’s not dark outside.”

I relaxed into my seat once I started seeing familiar landmarks. Saline was a very small town with a little over 2,000 residents, but downtown still had a way of attracting a relatively large crowd. Stoney Creek Brewery was packed and Jimin pointed out Sam’s car as we pass by.

“Looks like he came out with Otis and Skye,” He murmured.

Otis was another personal trainer at the gym, and Skye was responsible for marketing. They had been going out for a while now and made plan to move to Ann Arbor once Otis graduated from school. He was getting his masters in movement science at the University of Michigan. They had planned on moving out there when he graduated last year, but neither of them could find a job that could pay their bills. Otis was hoping the master’s would give him a competitive edge while Skye saved up enough money to start her own advertising firm.

“Think Gigi is with them?” I wondered.

“Probably not. She’s busy studying for an exam. I saw that she requested time off tomorrow and the day after, so I don’t think she has the time to go out for drinks.”

Giselle was getting her bachelor’s in dental hygiene at UM, and everytime I spoke to her she was swamped with work. I had no idea she needed to request time off, though. Must be an intense program.

“Did you ever go to college?” I asked Jimin.

He nodded, “I got my bachelor’s in psychology.”

Well, I had not been expecting that.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I never went back to get my master’s,” We turned onto the long road that led to his parent’s house. “I might after the Olympics.”

It was interesting to hear about his goals post-swimming. I never had those. My entire life was going to be swimming, and then, once I could no longer compete, I was opening my own swim school. After a couple of years of coaching under my belt, the plan was to start training professional athletes until I could join the Olympic coaching team. The accident was a very traumatic and eye-opening experience for me, so most of those plans ended up getting changed and modified over the years.

“What about you?” Jimin asked, pulling up to the curb.

“I went through an accelerated program at UCCS. Just graduated with my Masters in Athletic Training back in April.”

Neither one of us seemed to be ready to break the bubble we created. Even if we were just talking about school, it felt too intimate to leave. Holding hands in my car was new and I was worried if I opened the car door all of this would turn out to be a dream. The date, the confession; all of it.

“I should get going,” Jimin sighed, still not moving his hand from mine. “It’s late and I have to drive home.”

I was the first one to move away. He was right. It was almost midnight and I had a really difficult time tonight. All of that yelling really took a toll on me. Jimin did not move until he heard the click of my seatbelt unfastening.

“See you tomorrow?” He asked when I rounded the car. Getting out of the car, he held the door open as I slid inside. “I know we were out later than we thought we’d be.”

I nodded, “We can have a late morning. 8:30 instead of 6.”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

He closed my car door and jogged to his truck. It was parked in the driveway today. I pressed the button to roll my window down.

“Drive safe!” I called out.

Looking over his shoulder, Jimin grinned and threw a hand up. I watched him climb into Fiona and tried to keep myself from worrying too much. It was so dark outside and he could be exhausted behind the wheel. Who knows what could happen to him.

He caught me staring and waved at me again. I returned it with a small smile. The truck stopped for a second and his phone was his hand. My cell phone vibrated in the cupholder.

Jimin: I’ll be okay

Jimin: Text you when I get home, k?

Looking back at the truck, I found him already looking at me. I nodded my response. He smiled at me again, waved, before finally backing out of the driveway. I did not move until I could no longer see his truck in my rearview. My phone buzzed one more time.

Jimin: At the stop sign on Woodland and Ann Arbor-Saline

Jimin: Go home. I’m here. I’m fine.

I hesitated texting him back when I knew he was driving, but decided that I would just have to trust he would not open it until it was safe.

Me: Get out of my head, kid

Finally putting my car in drive, I threw my phone back in its spot and made the ten minute drive down the road to the Anderson house. All of the lights were off when I pulled up and I was as quiet as a mouse walking to the backyard.

I was beyond tired but still needed to get my nighttime routine done. Stripping out of my clothes, I turned on the shower and took off my makeup. Tonight wasn’t a wash night, so I was not in the shower for long. I heard my phone vibrating as I put on lotion and I quickly threw on a night shirt and went to my bedroom.

Jimin: Who says you aren’t in mine, meemaw

Jimin: I’m home now so you can get some sleep

Jimin: Night, geezer

I snorted. That was a new one. Crawling into bed, I got comfortable under my blankets and thought about a good comeback.

Me: Thank you

Me: Geezer? That’s such an geriatric thing to say, you whippersnapper

Jimin: LOL night 🫰🏼

Me: Night 🌜

I quick sent Taehyung a text to make sure he and Milo go home safely before putting my phone on the charger. Jungkook sent a text to our group chat an hour ago to let us know he was in his apartment back in Detroit. He was in Ann Arbor so often since Darcy lived out here, but he had bought a multi-million dollar home in Corktown when was first signed to the Red Wings in 2019. Milo was the one to reply to my text, signing his name at the bottom, since Taehyung passed out in the car on their way back home.

I took my medications and started up a game of solitaire while I waited for them to kick in. My psychologist had sent me to Michigan with a three month supply. I was planning my first trip back next week so I could see the boys in time for their first big competition of the season. While I was in town, I would pick up another three month supply. We were making the arrangements work as best as we could, and I was lucky I had a large group of people willing to support me during this transition.

Finally I felt the sleeping pills kicking in and I went to my white noise app. I hated falling asleep in silence and Emery had suggested the app while we were in a session. I paid for a yearly subscription and never regretted the fifty bucks. It had been a huge help in lulling me to bed.

Lights out and blankets wrapped snugly around my body, I closed my eyes and thought about everything that had happened. Jimin liked me back, asked me on a date, and told all of his friends about his infatuation with me before I even realized something else was going on. I was his dream girl. That put a lazy smile on my face. Then, I could no longer think about anything and was plunged into a dreamless sleep.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae @adventures-in-bookland

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